Second part of a series

Pinoy in Rome: Countdown to the Jubilee Year of Mercy (II)

By ROBERT Z. CORTES
December 12, 2015

Day 3: Sant’Agnese in Agone

One knows he’s getting "spoiled" by Rome's beauty when he avoids Piazza Navona at all costs when he makes the seven-minute walk from Piazza Farnese (the area where I live) to Piazza Sant'Apollinare (where my university is). One would understand the logic of that, of course, especially in this season when this place is just so full of people at around lunch time.

But there is a beautiful church there, alas, too often missed out by the usual tourist, who is naturally fascinated by the Bernini fountain of the Quattro Fiumi (though less so by the ones of Giacomo della Porta on both ends of the piazza) and awed by the sheer activity in the piazza (live music, painters, living statues, pigeons, etc.). Once one’s attention are caught by these distractions, one loses track of time in the piazza and realizes only too late that there’s no more time to enter the church. It doesn't help that unlike the bigger churches in Rome, the people manning this church demand their siesta time.

By some act of providence – most probably acting through human error – my choir’s practice ended so late yesterday. By the time I had finished eating lunch, I looked at my watch and realized it was one of those “oh-happy-fault” moments: it was opening time for Sant'Agnese in Agone. It was then settled that I was going to do the third day of my novena to the Immaculate Conception there.

This Baroque church is as baroque as baroque can get, just judging from the facade made by Francesco Borromini. As one approaches the church from the southern end, however, one should turn his back a bit, so one sees an image of Our Lady known (one of those altar-like structures called Madonella in Italy). Now this is one would be one of the most charming Rome can offer. For it has a beautiful cornice over the image with the inscription "Advocata Nostra" and "ora pro nobis." The image is large as well, and was obviously placed there to "Christianize" the whole formerly pagan stadium, saying "Our advocate, pray for us!"

As one enters the Church, if one still had any doubts that this is the height of baroque, one look at the arresting ceiling and dome will settle that. I would have to say that of the many domes I have seen in Rome, this would be the most impressive. But all the pictures I’ve don’t justice to it. For that I had to turn to Aaron Articulo, one of the Philippines’ most promising young photographers, who has graciously lent me this picture to share with you. (You can get in touch with him in Facebook and introduce yourself as a reader of this column; he just may pass on to you a copy of his masterful photo.)

In any case, all the sculptures and reliefs in this church all shout "baroque!" You can see that fact on the relief of the main altar, before which I did my rosary. It's a relief of the "double Holy Family" (of Jesus and St. John the Baptist). To add to the baroque-ness, baroque music was playing. It's not very easy to pray with that, however – at least for me. So when it was about time to do mental prayer, I decided to enter a small chapel where I knew a treasure is kept.

That treasure is the skull of St. Agnes, which one sees enshrined in a beautiful metal sculpture ordered made by St. Pius X. I was very lucky, because for a long time I was alone with the holy relic. In between short bits when some old people were coming in and out, I got to focus more on the physical and spiritual reality of the relic before me. The last time I was here, I was fascinated by how the skull was so small. Now, I realized it was only the upper part, that is, from the upper jaw to the top of the cranium. But aside from that, she was also just twelve years old. Some paintings show her already as a robust woman whose neck could give even the sharpest metal a hard time. That gross oversight is not only unhistorical, but also takes away from the impressiveness of her martyrdom. I was mulling on these ideas as I ended my prayer, totally awed by this privileged moment.

Before I end this article, however, maybe just a word about the phrase, "in agone" that forms part of the church’s name. Many people think it's from the word "agony" which would then refer to St. Agnes's martyrdom. Tempting as that may be, however, it’s not the case. In fact the word "agone" is a Latin word derived from the Greek which means "competition" - because Piazza Navona before was the area of the Stadium of Diocletian where there used to be a lot of... well, you guessed it.

But, then, of course, it so happens that the English word “agony” does come from agone for all the anguish and suffering that happens in the stadium. And Saint Agnes suffered the agony of her martyrdom in the "circus agonalis" of this emperor during what is considered the cruelest persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire. So there is a cosmic coincidence in the name of the church: the place of competition and of anguish. For Saint Agnes, there was not only competition and anguish; more importantly, there was victory.

This final perseverance in grace, despite all our difficulties, is the one thing we need to pray for ourselves, and the one thing we pray St. Agnes and Our Lady will obtain for us.