3 Rome’s Santa Maria Churches

CHRISTIANS BEGAN TO OFFICIALLY call Mary “Mother of God” after the Council of Ephesus in 431 B.C. Devotion to her took hold in Rome, and goddesses’ temples were abandoned or replaced with churches. Today, there are 26 churches in the Eternal City dedicated to Santa Maria, the Blessed Virgin Mary, aka BVM.

The grandest, largest, and oldest is the Basilica Santa Maria Maggiore, on the Esquiline Hill (near Termini). It was built over what was once a fertility temple, dedicated to Cybele, who Romans called Magna Mater—Great Mother. It’s also called The Madonna of the Snow, because one summer night, on August 5, A.D. 359, Mary answered the prayer of Pope Liberius, who had asked for a sign of where to build a church, by miraculously bringing a snowfall to this hill, as if her answer was: “Right here!” Every year on August 5, white rose petals are released from the dome of the church to commemorate this event.

Inside the dazzling rectangular expanse, in the Borghese Chapel, is Rome’s most important Marian icon: a Byzantine painting of the Virgin and Child, the Salus Populi Romani, Protectress of the Roman People, believed to have saved worshippers from the plague. The basilica ceilings are decorated with gold that came from the New World from Spain’s Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand in the days of Christopher Columbus. Marvelous fifth-century mosaics decorate the altar, further glorifying the BVM.

My favorite spot is the Loggia delle Benedizioni, which you can see by winding around past the gift shop to the museum and requesting a guide, who, (for a small fee), will lead you upstairs to view amazing thirteenth-century mosaics that tell the story of the Madonna of the Snow. Grand baroque angel statues adorn this loggia, and the view from up here is stunning. Also, the guide is a member of the Vatican police—mine was a proud pope’s bodyguard—whose enthusiasm for the entire basilica was exhilarating: “Look at this!” he said, taking me around the corner of the loggia to see a circular staircase. “Bernini built this when he was only 16! Imagine how many popes have touched this railing!”

No one will know what you’re talking about if you call it this, except maybe a priest. Everybody else knows it as the Pantheon, a fantastic monument built to honor all the goddesses and gods. It was consecrated in the seventh century as a church dedicated to Mary and the martyrs.

The “Eye of God”—the humongous, uncovered circular opening at the top of the Pantheon’s dome—frames the dramatic Roman sky, making the ever-changing city a part of this architectural wonder. It’s fabulous near sunset. One winter I got there just before closing when a rosy cotton-candy-tinged-with-gold cloud floated across it, inspiring even one of the guards to throw his head back and sigh. And it’s great in the rain. Especially in the rain, when water pours through and drains out the holes in its floor.

You also should take a moment to look at the plaque to the right of artist Raphael’s tomb. On it is the name of the girl he was engaged to, Maria Bibbiena, his patron’s niece. Raphael died at thirty-seven without ever marrying Maria. According to his biographer Vasari, he died from too much sex. Not with Maria, but with a baker’s daughter who was his steady mistress.

Pantheon, aka Santa Maria and the Martyrs: Monday–Saturday 8:30-7:30, Sunday 9-6

A zigzag away from the Pantheon takes you to this, Rome’s only Gothic church. “Sopra” means “over,” as the church was built over a place where there once was a temple complex devoted to Minerva (Goddess of Wisdom, Rome, and War), and Isis (Egyptian Goddess of Fertility).

I love Sopra Minerva’s ceiling—a vaulted expanse of dreamy blue and stars, outlined in burgundy. There’s a Renaissance Chapel of the Annunciation, where a willowy Mary, against a gold background, is handing out dowries to young maidens, just as the Dominican friars of this church once did. The masterpiece here is the Carafa Chapel, painted by Filippino Lippi, where the BVM is surrounded by musical angels as she flies up to heaven. At the main altar is the tomb of Saint Catherine of Siena, a powerhouse of the fourteenth century who bravely fought to bring the Pope back to Rome from Avignon. And to the right of that main altar is Michelangelo’s Christ Carrying the Cross—the cover over Jesus’s privates is from Baroque days.

This church, near the forum, wins for the best photo op, with the Bocca della Verità (Mouth of Truth) at its entrance, along with long lines of tourists unless you get there early or late in the day. The medieval legend of the big-faced disk says if a liar sticks his hand in its mouth, it’ll get bitten off. Gregory Peck did a great job of faking his hand being eaten in Roman Holiday, and Audrey Hepburn’s freaked-out yet charming reaction is a gem of a scene I replay on You Tube when I am Rome-sick.

You cross the Tiber, head through a maze of narrow streets, arrive at the piazza and BAM: topping this church is a vibrant mosaic frieze of Mary nursing Jesus, surrounded by ten lamp-holding virgins. This was built on a spot where it’s believed oil spurted from the ground and flowed the entire day Jesus was born.

Over the inside altar, Mary’s life story is told in Pietro Cavallini’s thirteenth-century mosaics, culminating with her being crowned Queen of Heaven. It’s best to get there on a sunny day, when the light bounces and sparkles off the gold background.

One of the most popular spots in the huge church is Saint Anthony’s statue, surrounded by candles and covered with hand-scribbled notes, written to beg for miracles or help finding whatever’s lost. At night the piazza surrounding this Santa Maria church gets magical. The lit-up mosaic makes it seem like Mary’s blessing the whole Felliniesque scene of tourists and locals passing through or hanging around the fountain. I can never resist indulging in a caffè or Campari at the di Marzio to take it all in.

“Every moment is an opportunity for something wonderful to happen,” was the Baroque artists’ philosophy. It’s how I feel when this church appears like a pearl tucked at the end of a cobblestoned street in one of Rome’s most theatrical settings.

Maybe I love della Pace so much because its opening hours (see below) make it more elusive than the others—like an ultra-handsome guy who’s hardly ever available. When your timing is right, you open the door to the small sanctuary and get a glorious blast of Raphael’s frescos of four sibyls—prophetesses in flowing robes, beautifully blending grace and power.

Sibyls were brilliant older women of Greece, Italy, and Persia who studied the moon and the stars, predicting eclipses and creating the basis for astrology. Catholics adopted them, believing Cumae (the sibyl on the left) predicted the birth of Christ. In this painting, completed by Raphael’s students after he died, sibyls listen to the words of swooping angels.

To the left of that fresco is a chapel designed by Michelangelo, and throughout the church are paintings of events of Mary’s life, from her birth to Assumption. Lots of female saints are honored here as well, including Bridget and Catherine who border Mary in the painting opposite Raphael’s. Sculptures of Saints Cecilia, Agnes, and Chiara adorn the arches.

Even if Santa Maria della Pace isn’t open, you’ll find another treasure if you head left from the church’s entrance: the Bramante Cloister. This was the first work Bramante did in Rome, right before he went to work on Saint Peter’s Square, and shows on a smaller scale his genius for harmony.

If you take the stairs from the cloister, you can peek through the bookshop window into the church for a view of Raphael’s masterpiece, which takes the edge off disappointment if the sanctuary is closed.

Santa Maria della Pace: Vicolo del Arco della Pace 5, Monday and Friday 10-4, Tuesday-Thursday 9-12, closed Saturday and Sunday

Golden Day: Visit Santa Maria Sopra Minerva and then the Pantheon as the sun is setting. Have dinner at Armando al Pantheon, my favorite Rome restaurant. It’s a cozy, family run place that serves delicious traditional dishes—such as Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe, with cheese and pepper, and Abbacchio a scottadito, baby lamb chops. (Salita de Crescenzi 31, 06 6880 3034, closed Saturday night and Sunday, reservations essential, www.armandoalpantheon.it)

TIP: Roaming through the central areas of these churches during Mass times (Sunday mornings, early Saturday evenings) is not permitted, so arrange your visits accordingly.