The Music... and the Silence of Rome

The impact of the sounds of Rome is evident to any pilgrim. But almost more stunning is the absence of sound. The soft steps of visitors rings out, pounding against the beautiful baroque walls of Saint John Lateran. The light pours through the windows high above as the slightest whisper from a mother to here child is audible across the Church. Reverence can be heard-heard in not hearing a single thing. The contrast of the reverence, as silence pervades the ears, with the bustling and hurrying sounds of the street outside is beautiful. Vendors hoping to snag tourists gaping at the sights prod and prod you to look at their array of sunglasses.

The undeniable closeness that can be felt to the eternal is all the more striking as one enters from a street full of cars, buses, tourists and vendors. The sudden absence of sound lets even the uninformed tourist know this place (church) is no sight-seeing or photo-taking bonanza. It is a place of worship, of beauty, of faith, and of adoration. Catholics across the globe feel connected through prayer and silence in these historical churches.

The echo of footsteps is drowned out by the beginning of a Mass. The entrance hymn rings out from a small side chapel flooded with the faithful as our tour is concluding. It is impossible not to be moved by the reverence of the little nuns who kneel on the stone with their hands folded like figures in religious art of the Middle Ages. I walk past the side chapel where the sacrifice of the Mass has begun and the silence is marked only by the words of the little priest. His whisper is like a call within these walls. I dropped to my knees as I passed, not out of habit, but out of awe...not even aware of the difference until I rise.

In the silence of Saint John Lateran, I can hear something within myself. I can feel something there I have not felt. In Wilbur's poem "Ceremony" we are shown the importance of rites. Rituals can become habitual, but in the spirit of the people and the place, reverence can silence the world. Ceremony and grandeur can shock the senses of the physical side of man, shock it into silence. A silence through which we can hear....

The culture and tradition of Rome are audible. From the moment I open my eyes in this morning I hear the beautiful blend of sounds that let me know that I am in Italy. The fascinating mixture of tradition, modern life, and the enduring Christian presence is heard at all times of the day. The visible beauty of Rome is preached by all those pilgrims, tourists and the like, but before my own experience I had never been told of the music present everywhere-from the bustling modern streets of the Coliseum to the quiet, even sleepy side streets of Trastevere. It is almost impossible not to be stunned with the beauty of the grand churches and ancient ruins or obelisk surrounding one as he arrives in Rome. But for those who are merely attracted by "the sights," hurrying from location to location, the sounds may be missed or even lost in the hurried pace of a traveler. Maybe it is only by living, as I am now, here in Rome that one can slow the eyes and mind and listen-listen to the sounds of Rome.

Traditional culture can be heard everywhere in Rome. But, to my ears, the street markets, little gypsy musicians, and small cafes with old men conversing over the newspaper enjoying a small glass of red wine. The Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere is filled with the sounds of Italian culture. Gypsies play guitar or accordion on the steps of the beautiful fountain in the center of the piazza. The coins that they earn jingle and clink as they are dropped in by passersby or tourists awed by the quaintness. Old men sip their "vino," chattering amongst themselves, perhaps discussing politics or the weather...even the quality of the drinks. Their characteristic little dogs who sit obediently at the heels of their masters occasionally yip or beg for a scrap from the table. Sitting and listening to these sounds, one can hear Italy, hear Rome, hear Trastevere. The sounds of "progress" and modern convenience add to the complexity and beauty of this music. Cars (whose horns seem to honk out of habit) come in and out of the sound scape. Mopeds weave through the crowds and cars with their higher- pitched tone complimenting the deeper rumblings of the cars. Women in fashionable stiletto heels clink over the cobblestone streets-tapping their own beat into the music of the Piazza. The presence of the Church is heard, marking the time in the piazza from the bell tower of Santa Maria. The power of the sounds of the bells can be felt as well as heard, much like a deep cello in a string quartet. The Church keeps time and tempo to the music of Rome. It regulates and marks out the pace and influence of all other sounds. The undeniable influence of Christianity may be heard by those who are listening. It has woven tradition, culture, and the modern into a symphony-one conducted by the metronome of the Catholic Church.

Sitting in the Piazza, cutting off the distraction of the eyes, I am able to listen. All of the sense can be fed by the Roman experience. Though we think of seeing, and perhaps tasting, all that is beautiful and Roman, it has come as a surprise to me to hear Rome. I recommend that you listen....

--By a Thomas More College sophomore in Rome