Tag Archives: Gregory the Great

The Patience of Job

I think the greatest of popes was Gregory the Great, who held the church together during Rome’s free fall into poverty in the 6th century. He kept his balance by reflecting on the scriptures, and one of his favorite books to reflect on was the Book of Job.  Here he is drawing on Job’s wisdom:

“Paul saw the riches of wisdom within himself though he himself was outwardly a corruptible body, which is why he says ‘We have this treasure in earthen vessels’. In Job, then, the earthenware vessel felt  gaping sores externally; while an interior treasure remained unchanged. The gaping outward wounds did not stop the treasure of wisdom within from welling up and uttering these holy and instructive words: ‘If we have received good at the hand of the Lord, shall we not receive evil?’ By the good he means the good things given by God, both temporal and eternal; by evil he means the blows he is suffering from in the present.”

Gregory quotes from Isaiah:

“‘I am the Lord, unrivalled,

I form the light and create the dark.

I make good fortune and create calamity,

it is I, the Lord, who do all this.’

“I form the light, and create the dark, because when the darkness of pain is created by blows from without, the light of the mind is kindled by instruction within.

‘I make good fortune and create calamity…’ Notice Job’s skill as he meets the arguments of his wife.If we have received good at the hand of the Lord, shall we not receive evil?’

 “It’s consoling, when we suffer afflictions, to remember our Maker’s gifts to us. Painful things will not depress us if we quickly remember also the gifts that we have been given. As Scripture says, ‘In the day of prosperity do not forget affliction, and in the day of affliction, do not forget prosperity.’”

Leave a Comment

Filed under Religion

Humble Leadership

As 6th century Rome started to fall apart and he became pope, St. Gregory the Great wrote one of his great scriptural commentaries called the Moralia, or a Commentary on the Book of Job. Gregory ends his commentary with some humble words that reveal someone who is not afraid to know himself. He’s a humble man, and  we need humble leaders today. I simplify his words, not distorting them, I hope:

“Now that I have finished this work, I have to look at myself. We are so complex, even when we try speaking the truth. Let me go from the forum of words to the senate house of my heart, to take council about myself.

I don’t want to speak anything evil or speak poorly about what is good.

I wish my words please the One is good.  Yet, can I claim I have spoken no evil at all? Have I spoken less well than I should, perhaps? When I look within, pushing aside leafy words and branches of arguments, and examine my deepest intentions, I know I intend to please God, but has some desire for human praise crept in? Has it intruded into my simple desire to please God?

Later, much later, I may realize this. Often, our intentions to please God are joined by a secret yen for human praise. Self-righteously, we even use God’s gifts to please others.

So in my commentary I reveal God’s gifts, but let me confess my wounds too. Let me instruct the little ones by my words, but let others take pity on my weakness. I offer help to some and seek help from others. As I tell some what to do, I open my heart to others to admit what they should forgive.  I give medicine to some, but do not hide my wounds from others. My reader will have more than paid me back if, for what he hears from me, he offers his tears for me.”

1 Comment

Filed under Religion

The Saints March In

Last week was the feast of Saint Agatha, a early woman martyr from Catania in Sicily. We mentioned her at Mass that day among the women listed in the 1st Eucharistic Prayer, which many believe comes from the hand of St. Gregory the Great. (540-604 AD)

Some say Gregory’s mother or grandmother, I don’t remember who, got him to put Agatha’s name in the prayer because they had roots in Sicily and were devoted to the young martyr. Could be.

Rome was collapsing in Gregory’s day as barbarian invaders swept over the Italian peninsula, plundering, burning and destroying. It was the worst of times, and lots of people, among them the well-to-do residents of the Celian Hill where Gregory lived, were getting out of the troubled city as fast as they could.

But the saints weren’t marching out, they were “marchin in.” Those two lists of saints in the Roman canon were Gregory’s army, his enduring support. Their nearby  shrines were fortresses that sustained him. John and Paul, soldier saints who opposed a mighty army;  Cosmos and Damian, the doctors who cured and didn’t mind not getting paid,   Lawrence, who saw the poor as the treasures of the church. Besides Agatha, there was Cecilia, Agnes–strong Roman women of faith who wouldn’t give in, not matter what. All of them were still there in their churches. Gregory saw them, I think, as friends at his side, when so many others had left, and he wanted to remind others too that they were there.

And so we pray at the Eucharist “in union with the whole church.” The times may be rough, but we draw strength from the whole church, the saints living among us and those in glory who, in turn, get their strength from Jesus Christ.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Passionists, Religion

A Contemplative in a Troubled World

I’m reading R.A.Markus’ book, Gregory the Great and His Times (Cambridge 1997). This pope, truly great, lived in Rome “in a period of insecurity unmatched in Roman history.” The world about him was falling apart, yet, though his health was always poor, he kept that world going. He was a “contemplative in a troubled world,” according to Markus, a persistent voice in a “world poised on the edge of chaos, in constant need of men’s devotion, imagination and enterprise, dedicated to its preservation.”

Gregory’s first work after becoming pope in 590 AD was a treatise on Pastoral Care, which deals with how pastors should care for an endangered flock.

Then, he wrote his “Dialogues” about holy people and the miracles they wrought. Most were not people of the past, heroic martyrs commemorated at famous shrines, but unknown, ordinary people of the present, who were largely overlooked by those around them. By the way, he wrote the treatise in the Library of Agapetus, right across from the Church of Saints John and Paul, where two great Roman martyrs were buried.

Gregory’s purpose for writing about them was to assure his readers– and also himself–that God had not withdrawn his gifts of holiness from the Italy of his day; holy people still lived there and were  the backbone of the church. Indeed, it was not the miracles they performed or any great achievement Gregory praised; it was their silent, heroic patience in troubling times.

I was thinking about our attempt to have Fr. Theodore Foley canonized. Does he fit in that category of patient saints in troubled times?

Gregory himself, according to Markus, left few structural achievements. His immediate successors didn’t follow his style and practices as pope. But the church honors him as a great contemplative leader.

Yesterday, Peter Steinfels wrote his last column of “Beliefs” in the New York Times. Another contemplative guide who has helped our church today see . I hope he keeps writing and thinking.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Passionists, Religion

Mary Magdalene

John_20_15

St. Gregory the Great may have got it wrong when he identified Mary Magdalene with the sinful woman mentioned in the gospel stories and Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, but his description of her spirituality is right on.

I wrote about Mary elsewhere in Bread on the Waters; here’s an excerpt from Gregory’s beautiful sermon in today’s Liturgy of the Hours:

“We should reflect on Mary’s attitude and the great love she felt for Christ; for though the disciples had left the tomb, she remained. She was still seeking the one she had not found, and while she sought she wept; burning with the fire of love, she longed for him who she thought had been taken away. And so it happened that the woman who stayed behind to seek Christ was the only one to see him. For perseverance is essential to any good deed, as the voice of truth tells us: Whoever perseveres to the end will be saved.

At first she sought but did not find, but when she persevered it happened that she found what she was looking for. When our desires are not satisfied, they grow stronger, and becoming stronger they take hold of their object. Holy desires likewise grow with anticipation, and if they do not grow they are not really desires. Anyone who succeeds in attaining the truth has burned with such a great love. As David says: My soul has thirsted for the living God; when shall I come and appear before the face of God? And so also in the Song of Songs the Church says: I was wounded by love; and again: My soul is melted with love.

Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek? She is asked why she is sorrowing so that her desire might be strengthened; for when she mentions whom she is seeking, her love is kindled all the more ardently.

Jesus says to her: Mary. Jesus is not recognised when he calls her “woman”; so he calls her by name, as though he were saying: Recognise me as I recognise you; for I do not know you as I know others; I know you as yourself. And so Mary, once addressed by name, recognises who is speaking. She immediately calls him rabboni, that is to say, teacher, because the one whom she sought outwardly was the one who inwardly taught her to keep on searching.”

Leave a Comment

Filed under Religion

Saints John and Paul November 19

The 5th century church of Saints John and Paul stands today on the western spur of the Coelian Hill near the center of imperial Rome, across from the ruins of the emperors’ palaces on the Palatine Hill, the Roman forum and the Colosseum.

The Coelian is an important area for Christian Rome. In imperial times, wealthy senatorial families lived in quiet walled mansions on the hill; apartment houses (insulae) for the middle class and the poor stretched along the roads crossing it. A garrison of imperial troops was also stationed there, ready to serve Rome’s rulers. Even before the 4th century, Christians were found among these various groups on the hill.
Major figures of old Rome came from the area. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius (160-180 AD) was raised there. Constantine (312-337 AD) appropriated extensive properties on its eastern edge from those who opposed his conquest of the city in 311 AD, and shortly afterwards built a baptistery, a residence and the impressive Basilica of the Savior for Christians on the confiscated Lateran property. The bishops of Rome resided there until the 14th century, when they moved to the Vatican.

Besides the pope, other Christians were also active on the Coelian. By the 5th century, when the Church of Saints John and Paul was built, prominent figures like St. Jerome, St. Augustine and spiritual teachers from the Egyptian desert were frequent guests in the homes and churches in the area. The community was part of a lively spiritual and intellectual network that reached throughout the Roman world.

St. Melania the Younger (+439), a member of one of Rome’s richest families, lived near Saints John and Paul. Shortly before Alaric’s army invaded the city in 410 she sold her home and lands on the Coelian and left for Africa with her husband where they lived near Augustine and his community at Hippo. Eventually, Melania began a monastery for women on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem.

The lands next to Saints John and Paul belonged to the wealthy Christian family of St. Gregory the Great (590-604 ) which gave the church two popes before Gregory: Pope St. Felix III (483-492) and Pope St. Agapitus (535-536), Gordian, the father of Agapitus, was a priest of the Church of Saints John and Paul. A splendid library–its ruins visible today across the Clivus Scauri from the church– may go back further than its patron, Agapitus.

Christians from the Coelian reached out to bring the gospel to their pagan neighbors after Constantine gave them their freedom in 312 AD, and the Church of Saints John and Paul may be a center for their efforts. Before then, Christians cautiously promoted their faith; now they presented it boldly. Splendid churches, rivaling Rome’s temples and shrines, now displaced modest community centers or renovated houses.

To win over the powerful Roman majority– many resenting the new faith– the church now promoted the Christian scriptures, freshly translated by St. Jerome, along with his learned commentaries. The new faith, St. Augustine argued in his City of God, far from causing the empire to fall (as its enemies claimed), gave the world a powerful wisdom it needed. Christians believed they had something to say to the Romans of the day.

Was the church of Saints John and Paul part of this new Christian assertiveness? Built in the “show” area of the imperial city, next to the Roman temple of Claudius, It was close to the Roman forum–the heart of Rome. Until then, so as not to offend the Roman majority, new Christian buildings were confined to the city’s edge (the Lateran Basilica is an example) or to the shrines of martyrs outside the city.
Was the church a visual statement that Christianity had arrived?

The builder of Saints John and Paul was a one-time leader of the senate, Pammachius (340-410 AD). His wife was Paolina, daughter of the influential noblewoman St.Paula, who accompanied St. Jerome to the Holy Land.
They had no children, and when Paolina died in 360 Pammachius dedicated himself to the spiritual life, promoting scripture study and caring generously for the poor. St. Jerome a long-time friend and regular correspondent, admired the Roman nobleman’s deep faith and keen mind. Another friend, St. Paulinus of Nola, called Pammachius the “most generous patron the church could have.”

Pammachius built his 5th century church using as its foundations three existing buildings, two of them 3rd century apartment houses facing the Clivus Scauri. Most likely, the Roman senator, wanted his church to be a spiritual and intellectual beacon in the heart of the city.

But Pammachius died in 410 AD, as Alaric and the Goths invaded the Rome. Did the panic and following uncertainty hinder his plans? Almost a century later the great Christian scholar Cassiodorus speaks regretfully of abandoning a joint project to promote Christian learning which he planned to undertake with Agapitus, whose great library stood across the street from Pammachius’ church. As Christians from the Coelian Hill escaped to the safety beyond Rome and in other parts of the city, did Pammachius’ dream come to an end?

As we have already said, the present 5th century church is built on the structures of some houses beneath; furthermore, there is evidence that previously Christians met there for worship. A “house church,” bearing Pammachius’ name is listed among the twenty five early Christian house-churches that existed in the city.

Furthermore, Pammachius’ house-church had another distinction. Bodies of Christian martyrs were buried and honored there, even before the upper basilica was built. Two soldier martyrs, John and Paul, said to have been put to death by the Emperor Julian the Apostate in 362, are the most prominent of the group. By the time of the church synod in Rome in 595, the church of Pammachius was also known as the Church of Saints John and Paul.

Scholars are still puzzled by the stories of the martyrs, John and Paul. Different versions have appeared, the earliest from the 6th century. According to the earliest “Passion” (an account of martyrdom), John and Paul were two Christian officers of the Emperor Constantine, who made them guardians of his daughter, Constantia. Thanks to his generosity, the two brothers bought a house on the Coelian Hill and retired there.

When Julian the Apostate, became emperor, he called the two brothers back into imperial service as his aides. But they refused, because the emperor had betrayed the Christian faith into which he was baptized. Julian, incensed at their refusal, gave them ten days to reconsider; unless they complied with his request, he would charge them with impiety, which was punishable by death.
During the next ten days, the brothers prepared for their martyrdom by giving away their possessions to the poor.

Fearful that open persecution would antagonize the Christians, Julian chose to deal with the two soldiers privately. So he sent one of his captains, Terentianus, to their home to command obedience from them and to sacrifice to the gods. When they remained firm, they were beheaded and secretly buried in their home. To cover up their death, officials started the rumor that they were sent into exile. Three other Christians, the priest Crispus, the cleric Crispinianus and the woman Benedicta were martyred along with the brothers.
Shortly afterwards, the truth came out, and John and Paul, as well as the others, were honored at a shrine built over their graves in the apartments along the Clivus Scauri, which may have been their home. Later, a stairway connected the shrine to the church built above.

The cult of the two soldier saints grew as miracles were reported through their intercession. By the 6th century, their names were listed in the ancient Roman Canon; their feast was celebrated in Rome, Milan and Ravenna on June 23rd, which may be the day of their martyrdom.

Earlier, the two martyred soldiers would have been favorites of the soldiers stationed on the Coelian Hill, who passed their shrine on the Clivus Scauri regularly. They also reminded Christians of Pammachius’ day – who were becoming increasingly more comfortable in Roman society after the years of persecution – that those who follow Jesus must be ready to bear their cross.

Churches share the fate of the places where they are built. The church of Saints John and Paul’s fortune changed following the invasion of the Visigoths in 410. Other barbarian invaders swept through the empire after them, and Rome’s population dwindled from about 800,000 in 400 AD to perhaps 100,000 by 500 AD. Most of the wealthy families from the Coelian fled to the safety of Constantinople or Ravenna. The remaining population either moved from the city or relocated in its westward section, leaving the hill largely abandoned and depopulated. It remained that way until the end of the 19th century.

After a brief shining mement as a center for early Coelian Christians, the Church of Saints John and Paul came under the papal court located at the Lateran area nearby, and depended upon the fluctuating resources of the popes of the time. An annotation from the Liber Pontificalis in the 8th century says that Pope Hadrian I (772-795) “began to renovate the titulus Pammachii, of Saints John and Paul, which had become run down over the years.” Through the dark ages, to medieval times, until today, the church was kept standing by popes, cardinal protectors, religious communities and benefactors who mended, altered or restored its fabric.

By the 6th century, Saints John and Paul was no longer a thriving parish church, but an isolated martyrs’ shrine in an abandoned area of the city. Yet, as Rome under the popes of the 7th century became a magnet for pilgrims flocking to the city’s shrines (especially the shrines of St. Peter and St. Paul), the church of the soldier martyrs on the Coelian Hill also attracted visitors.

From the 11th to the 13th centuries, cardinal protectors provided the popular church with a beautiful bell tower, solid walls and enlarged monastic buildings. Pilgrim guidebooks of the time give the church a place of honor because, uniquely, it contained martyrs’ tombs within the city walls. The 12th century historian and guide, William of Malmesbury, writes: “Inside the city, on the Coelian hill, John and Paul, martyrs, lay in their own house, which was made into a church after their death.”

From the 8th century onward, monastic and religious communities took up residence next to the shrine. The latest religious community making a home there is the Passionists whose founder, St. Paul of the Cross, was a zealous Italian preacher and mystic of the 18th century.
Pope Clement XIV, because of his friendship and admiration for the saint, asked him in 1773 to take over the ancient monastery and church. With seventeen Passionist religious, Paul moved into the monastery of Saints John and Paul, and it has been the seat of administration for his worldwide congregation ever since. Paul spent his last years and died there on October 18, 1775.

Paul of the Cross was proclaimed a saint on June 29, 1867. On April 25, 1880 his remains were brought to the beautiful classical chapel built in his honor on the right hand side of the basilica of Saints John and Paul. The rooms where he lived and died, overlooking the piazza, are carefully preserved in the old monastery.
Besides the saintly founder, other Passionists honored by the church are associated with the place. Among them are: Saint Vincent Strambi (1745-1824), former superior of Saints John and Paul, who was named Bishop of Macerata and suffered during the Napoleonic occupation; Blessed Dominic Barberi (1792-1849), who received John Henry Newman into the Catholic Church; Blessed Bernard Mary Silvestrelli (1831-1911), a superior general of the Passionists who prepared for their worldwide expansion in the 20th century; and Blessed Eugene Bossilkov, a Passionist Bishop martyred by the communists in Bulgaria in 1950.

Today the monastery is a residence for Passionist students from many countries and also the site of the community’s administration.
In the late 19th century, a Passionist religious, Father Germano Ruoppolo (1850-1909) conducted extensive excavations under the church. He uncovered the remains of the early 2nd and 3rd century apartments and homes that were the foundations of the later basilica, as well as the streets of the ancient site and the confession where the martyrs were honored.
Father Germano was also the spiritual director of St. Gemma, an Italian mystic who, from her childhood, was devoted to the mystery of the Passion of Jesus. Today, she is buried in a shrine named in her honor in Lucca. Not far from her rests the body of her saintly guide, Father Germano, Passionist; his own cause for canonization is in process.
Father Germano’s successor in the excavations at Saints John and Paul was Passionist Brother Lambert Budde, who worked there from 1909-1911.

Further explorations were conducted from 1956-1958 through the generosity of Francis Cardinal Spellman of New York and Joseph P. Kennedy, father of President John Kennedy. Cardinal Terence Cooke and Cardinal John O’Connor, successors to Cardinal Francis Spellman as archbishops of New York, also had title to this important Roman church.
The present cardinal protector of Saint John and Paul is the archbishop of New York, Edward Cardinal Egan, who took possession of the church February 24, 2001.

Visiting Saints John and Paul
The bell tower was built in the 12-13th century over the travertine foundations of the 1st century Temple of Claudius and the Claudianum. The large sunken door to the left of the bell tower on the piazza leads to an ancient street before the Claudianum.
The buildings to the left of the bell tower belong to the 11-12 century Monastery of Saints John and Paul,  built by Cardinal Theobald. Its original entrance, now enclosed, is seen to the right of the narthex (or porch at the entrance to the basilica) on the piazza. The double-arched windows above the door to the Claudianum mark the room where St.Paul of the Cross died. (October 18,1775)
The narthex was constructed by Cardinal di Sutri in the middle of the 12th century to protect pilgrims from the weather. Above it is the 13th century gallery, built by Cardinal Savelli, who became Pope Honorius III.
The five large pillars above columns on the upper facade of the basilica are from the original 5th century basilica.The large round dome to the right of façade was constructed in the 19th century as part of the shrine to St.Paul of the Cross.
On the left hand side of the basilica is the ancient street, Clivus Scauri, connecting the Coelian Hill to the Palatine Hill. Spanned by seven brick arches that buttress the 5th century church, the road runs past the 3rd century apartment houses on which the church is built, parts of which can be seen in the church’s foundations.
The excavations under the church can be visited from an entrance on the Clivus Scauri.
Inside the church, the story of Saints John and Paul is told in the paintings in the apse.
There is a painting of Pammachius above an altar to the upper right of the church.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Religion, Travel