No Bones About It

You need more than an afternoon to see the city of Rome. With all roads leading to it, there are a lot weaving around within it as well. Visiting here in '05 I did a trek with several friends looking for one of the more obscure of those roads, Via dei Cappuccini, and when even locals had trouble directing us to it, we realized we needed to stop at a gelateria for replenishment.

That turned out to be a mistake, however, as upon setting out, fully ice creamified, we did find the reticent street, and the small church on it that had been our final goal, only to find that it had closed two minutes before.

Two minutes that had been spent purchasing and savoring gelati. Best laid plans.

So it was this last week during the rejuvenating vigor of the Easter Octave that the endeavor was taken up again to find the small Capuchin church that had been our historic goal.

In the photo at left, you can make out the arched door to the lower right that leads to the crypt, wherein is housed the 'bone church' of Rome.

No words do the crypt chapels justice. And on this page no photos will do them justice either. You can't take photos inside, so the exterior photo is the best we can do here. However, if you go to the Capuchin's page itself, you can pursue the link 'The Crypt', and there find both find photos and description of 'the crypt'. The web page, well worth your time, describes the history of how a large stock of bones came to be collected in one place, and then how they became incorporated into the crypt chapels themselves.

Thus the habited skeletons facing the text:

"What you are, we once were;
what we are, you soon will be."

After ruminating amongst the skulls and vertebrae-laced chandeliers, it was time to head to the nearby Spanish Steps.

A beautiful, brightly lit chapel stands at the top of this well known destination, providing Eucharistic Adoration and a wonderful sung liturgy to faithful visitors and surprised tourists. Being in the Italian city of Rome at the top of the Spanish Steps, it makes sense that it is kept by a French community.








Home in Rome of the Community of Jerusalem (link includes clips of their magnificent chanting).






Too bad I don't speak French.

I speak sunset, though, and so appreciated the skyline both before and after the evening service.











The Steps remain ever-populated.