Antiphons

Sunrise over Rome, seen from a terrace above Trastevere. The light of a new day lifting the city out of darkness. A city whose history is written in blood, beauty and stone, and the power and glory of the gods. Where pilgrims and tourists come with their burdens of faith and doubt, their yearnings for eternity and their restless quest for novelty. Sights ticked off the bucket list. The Colosseum. The Vatican. Piazza Navona, where Bernini’s muscular river gods sport themselves on the site where Saint Agnes was martyred. They say she is the patron saint of young girls, chastity, rape survivors, and the children of Mary. In secret churches darkly lit, the Virgin weeps and feeds the hungry child. Does she weep for all the virgin martyrs who were told that purity is more sacred than life?

In St Peter’s Square, Bernini’s columns wrap protective arms around the crib with its timeless story of hope reborn. As evening falls, the Christmas tree glitters its cryptic promises to the silhouetted fi…