A visit to St. Mary Major

This past week, our class visited the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore to enrich our reading of Luke's Gospel. This was another great example of the way the centuries of Christian faith in this place really bring to life the ways in which different eras of the life of the Church inform and shape its understanding of scripture, and the ways that gets expressed in the art of the Church.

Legend has it that the first church built on the site of S. Maria Maggiore was built shortly after Our Lady appeared in a dream either to then-Pope Liberius or a Roman named Giovanni, or perhaps both, letting them know that they should build on the site where they found snow the next morning. The next morning, August 5th (Rome is HOT in August!), snow was found on the hill where S. Maria Maggiore stands to this day. Now, parts of the current church date back to the time of Sixtus II (around the 430s), and there isn't any clear evidence of a prior structure, but it's a great story.

But the story of Sixtus building this church dedicated to Mary, immediately in the wake of the Council of Ephesus, which had confirmed and offered theological defenses for calling Mary "Theotokos" and "Mother of God," is also a great story. And, of course, on walking into the church, one can see artwork of Mary (and many other persons and scenes, especially biblical ones!) not only from the time of Sixtus, but from the time of the 12th century restoration, as well as earlier and later.

One of my favorite pieces to contemplate is now known as the "Salus Populi Romani." Legend holds that St. Luke the Evangelist himself painted this piece on the top of a table that Jesus himself had made (it is 3 foot by 5 foot!). Our Lady sat for the painting, and as she sat, she told Luke story after story of Jesus, many of which made it into his Gospel. (Ever wondered why Luke has more Marian stories than any other Gospel, and a more extensive infancy narrative than anyone else?) Again, according to the legend, the painting was kept by Christians in and around Jerusalem until it was discovered by St. Helena on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and she brought it with her back to Rome. (By the way, legend has it that St. Helena also brought back a piece of the true creche, also housed in this basilica.)

Of course, with a little digging, one finds that the earliest date modern scholars have been willing to give this piece is the fifth century, so these legends are likely false. But it was wonderful to watch the students encounter these pieces, reverenced for centuries, and try to sort through how best to think of them. We had a great conversation about the particular nature of the Incarnation: even if these pieces are not the ones, and even if in truth they have fallen to pieces, there were tables that Jesus made and sat at, there were beds and creches he slept in, there was a cross on which he was crucified, a tomb in which he was lain. We are, of course, in Rome, not in Israel, but I could almost see the claims of our very incarnational faith becoming a bit more real for them.