Miraculous Snow

August 5th is the Day of the Miraculous Snow.

What - this is not on your calendar?

This is the day on which a legendary, freak snowstorm occurred - in August, in Rome, mind you - in the 4th century. Pope Liberious dreamt that the Holy Mother spoke to him and stated her intentions to have a church built in Rome.  She would communicate her wishes via a snowfall in the summer.

And when the snow fell, it landed on the ground in the form of a church floor plan, the specs of which were followed by the builders of Santa Maria Maggiore (Saint Mary 'Major').

Now, for the theologically minded, the era of this event is about the same time that early Christian church officials were settling a matter that had vexed them for awhile:  whether or not Mary was the mother of God or the mother of Jesus.

And this was a big, big deal.

(N.B. I have over-simplified this subject, so apologies to those who are much better versed in the complexities). For Protestants - who are apt to take The Word at its most literal value - that this was even a dilemma may come as some surprise, given what is in the current version of the Bible. 

Much of Marian information is a bit thin on the Biblical ground, so to speak, but her role as Christ's earthly mother is not doubted.

But for many early Christians, this matter was divisive and of serious import, because it depended on the delicate understanding of Christ's simultaneously divine and human origins, and also whether a mortal woman could be the mother of a divine entity that pre-existed Christ (God the Father).  This idea is implied when we count Christ as God-the-Son. 

A whole council of religious officials convened on this.

The final declaration was that Mary was the mother of Christ, who is a form of God-as-a-man.

She is 'Theotokos' - God-bearer.

It would therefore be only correct that a holy relic of this church is Christ's crib, pieces of which are stored in a crystal reliquary (the thing that seems to be glowing in this picture) installed in an open crypt below floor-level, with an eternally praying figure of Saint Jerome, who is also buried here.

So, churches dedicated to Mary started to appear around the time of this important decision. 

The 13th century apse (the space just behind the altar) mosaic.

'Mom, your crown is crooked.  Let me fix that for you.'
In all seriousness, this is known as the Coronation of the Virgin - as the Queen of Heaven.

Santa Maria Maggiore is one of the oldest churches in Rome to be dedicated to Mary.

(Now, of course, there are tons, just in Rome alone:  St. Mary of the Victory, St. Mary of the Angels, St. Mary in Trastevere, and so on...)

It is an important place for several reasons, not the least of which is its status as a Papal basilica.

Wikipedia will tell you that the status of basilica is a matter of Papal decree. Not quite.

The status of Papal basilica may be a matter of decree, but not just the designation of basilica.

An art historian or architect will tell you that 'basilica' is a term for an ancient Roman structure that evolved to be the original form of the earliest Christian purpose-built churches (that weren't adapted from Roman houses, for instance).

A basilica is essentially a large hall - a rectangular space, with middle and side aisles - with pagan origins. In some cases, actual pagan spaces were converted to early Christian ones.  

Sta. Maria Maggiore is not considered to be one of those, but the spatial layout of the building is that of a basilica.

This church, like so many others here, is comprised of layers and additions and re-builds, spanning many centuries. There are 'spoil' (remnants from other monuments or buildings) elements, like old columns, that either date to an ancient Roman temple or to the earliest version of the church at this site. 

A few popes and other individuals are buried in this church.

Just to the side of the altar, entombed in the floor, is the rock star of Roman Baroque sculpture, Bernini...and his family. To have such a spot for both you and your family says a lot about how well you were regarded by everyone.

Santa Maria Maggiore is one of 7 Papal basilicas (two of which are dedicated to Mary - 4 others are dedicated to male saints Peter, Paul, John and Lawrence..and the Basilica of the Holy Cross - and they are all owned by the Holy See, or considered another way, the Vatican, even though they are not on the grounds of the Vatican State)  that are pilgrimage churches.  Thus, a pilgrim coming to Rome would be sure to visit all of them, in order to share a common experience with fellow pilgrims, and to 'get to know' the early saints of the Catholic church. 

On every August 5th, Romans who haven't already gone on vacation gather in the piazza in front of Santa Maria Maggiore to commemorate the event of the miraculous snow. 

We arrived with plenty of time to spare.  I had heard that there would be a re-creation of the event - with fake snow.  I couldn't miss this.

Special lighting - with gels, even - was set up to add visual interest to the facade of the church.

And snow! Well, sort of.  They were soap suds generated by a machine. Cue the smattering of applause.

A stage.  A band.  A person dressed all in white, looking...virginal? Singing.

Costume change!  Something sparkly.

Because rock music - performed in part by a person dressed in a sparkly gown that was occasionally flourished, the way we've seen plenty of rock stars perform - is the right accompaniment to the re-enactment of divinely miraculous summertime snow.
I can't make this up.

As the musical portion of the program seemed to really kick into gear, The Spouse suggested a bus ride home and some gelato.  I was a bit reluctant to go.  So many people were still present and wandering about, and they didn't seem especially interested in the music.  

They seemed to be waiting for something else.

I sensed that the 'snow fall' that we captured on video was not THE snow fall scheduled for the evening. I wondered aloud about this.

But The Spouse's low threshold for sub-par musical performance won out, and we left.

And wouldn't you know it:  a colleague of his reported on the following day that indeed, a BIG 'snow fall' was staged later in the same evening. Soap suds everywhere! For what it was, he said, it was impressive.  And this wasn't his first miraculous snowfall event, either.  He said that the soap suds were a substantial improvement over an earlier year's version, which involved a lot of flour.
Flour?

Regardless, I was sorry that I missed it. 

The Spouse has endorsed this blog entry.  He knows that he's not going to get to live this one down.

Next year, we are sticking around for the big, sticky, miraculous snow.