On the wrong side of the Tiber

The sophomore class of Thomas More College has just begun its Rome semester, as students still recovering from jet lag convened for early breakfast at the Villa Maria—a clean, modern facility for pilgrims run by the Salvatorian sisters—and then for their morning Humanities class, today on Moby Dick.

Their next steps took them from 19th century America to Renaissance Italy, as they followed their doughty, deeply informed guide Dr. Paul Connell on a walking tour of the churches and streets of Trastevere, an historic neighborhood south of the Vatican. It stands, like the papal district, on the “wrong” side of the Tiber—the side where “criminals” such as St. Peter were crucified. Dr. Connell described in loving detail the cultural peculiarities which long marked the neighborhood (before gentrification drove out its natives), including its own distinctive dialect, and a tradition of poets who wrote in that tongue.

Students on tour in Trastevere

Dr. Connell then led the students through several historic churches. The most famous is perhaps San Pietro Montorio (St. Peter on the Hill), which has historically been associated with the city's Spanish community. Indeed, this connection may explain why this church was spared destruction in the 1527 sack of Rome by troops of Charles V (also King of Spain). Whatever the reason, it is one of the few Renaissance-style churches to have survived in Rome. Its interior includes magnificent reliefs and sculptures by Bernini—the artist who, Dr. Connell explained to students, is responsible for the design of St. Peter's Square, and much of the greatest art within. But that's jumping ahead, since the students haven't visited St. Peter's yet. Monday's tour included a learned description of Bernini's relief depicting the ecstasy of St. Francis. Dr. Connell explained how Bernini designed this relief to take advantage of the natural light and contrasting shadows to maximize the dramatic impact of the work—a technique called chiarascuro.

As the TMC contingent left the church, Dr. Connell paused to point out the coats of arms on the church's facade—those of the pope, and of the titular cardinal in whose care the historic building stands. Dr. Connell unpacked the symbolism of Pope Benedict's coat of arms. The shell, he noted, is the emblem of pilgrims to Compostella, a fit symbol for the leader of the pilgrim “People of God.” The head of the crowned, noble Ethiopian or Moor signifies the universality of the Church, and its destiny as the cult of the whole human race. Finally, Dr. Connell explored the puzzling image of the bear wearing a knapsack (like many of Thomas More College's students that day). This emblem, he said, belongs to St. Corbin of Munich—who traveled as a pilgrim through the Alps, and lost his pack mule to a hungry bear. Legend tells that the saint ordered the bear to “bear” his burden, and the beast complied. According to the ever-reliable Dr. Connell, the pope saw in the figure of a burdened bear an emblem of of those who hold authority in the Church: they bear others' burdens.