Hidden in Plain Sight

Turn an average street corner in Rome and chances are you’ll find yourself enveloped in a great mist of history, legend, art, saints, popes, emperors, gladiators …

I could go on and on.

I’ve visited countless times, and indeed lived there for a time, yet this observation occurred to me with new clarity recently, when I stepped into the relatively unheralded Basilica di S. Marco Evangelista in the center of the city.

In truth, I found St. Mark’s while searching for something far less impressive: one of Rome’s “talking statues.” I found Madame Lucrezia in a corner just off Piazza Venezia. These statues were Renaissance bulletin boards; on them were affixed political gibes, gossip and poems — early blogs, you might say. After enjoying this unusual bit of history, I noticed St. Mark’s large iron grate.

Most churches in Rome have a few legends about their origins, and this one is no exception. The Evangelist Mark, it’s said, wrote his Gospel while living on the Capitoline Hill across the present piazza. And from this story, somehow, in 336, a Pope St. Mark became its pastor. Actually that year was recently affirmed, when the crypt revealed foundations from that era.

Although we know this titular church (meaning one from earliest Christian times) is dedicated to the Evangelist, who was Pope St. Mark and why was he a saint?

Records are few and not clear. In the first 500 years of popes, more or less, all were called saints. However, given the fact that he was named for the esteemed Evangelist — and that the Pope’s bones still rest at the main altar — we can infer that he was out of the ordinary. Of course, he had less than a year to create an impression.

At first I thought the lack of written information would make for a weak article. I had forgotten that this is Rome, where every stone exudes tales of blood or beneficence. A little research was in order.

Now is a good time to consider what I found, as April 25 is St. Mark the Evangelist’s feast day.

Ancient Yet New

The year 336 was a dramatic one for Rome. The council of Nicaea had met the previous year, and different interpretations of the substance of Father and Son were emerging. Pope Julius (337-352), who followed Pope Mark, had earlier attempted reconciliation between the Western church and the Eastern. But the seat of Byzantine Church governance had been in Constantinople since 324. Rivalry between East and West had become a fact of life almost as soon as the persecutions ended.

For Christian Rome, these were splendid years. Pope Mark saw a period in which Constantine gave the majestic Lateran Palace to the Pope as his residence and financed the construction of churches throughout the city and beyond. Pope Mark probably lived in the Lateran Palace.  In short, the Church was blooming after surviving generations of persecution.

Not only did the Church grow materially, but the number of Christians increased during that century to almost 25 million, mainly in the East. But Christians of the time were not known for great piety. Jerome and Augustine would soon come along to move them out from their partly pagan inclinations.

In any event, the man whose relics lie at this main altar was not the sadly neglected Pope I had imagined. His predecessor, Pope Sylvester, had listed, in the Liber Pontificalis, pages of generous gifts received, including large donations of income-bearing property.

I knew none of this when I saw the graceful façade (15th century) hidden behind a patch of trees and the ever-present vehicular traffic. On the walls of the atrium, fragments of the ages are affixed, bits and pieces of centuries. One funerary plaque that guidebooks do mention, if they notice the church at all, is that of Vannozza Catanei (1518), a Roman aristocrat who gave birth to Lucrezia and Cesare Borgia, fathered by Rodrigo Borgia, who would become the famous Pope Alexander VI.

Of course, St. Mark’s has been reconstructed through the ages. The bell tower was added in 1154. The Pope whose hand is seen most clearly here is Paul II (1464-71); his coat of arms appears at the beautiful, garland-edged portico with a lunette bas relief of Mark the Evangelist.

Paul II (born Pietro Barbo) was given to festivals and luxury. He instituted a vast carnival that started at the far end of the via del Corso and ended here at his palace, the adjoining Palazzo Venezia. All of Rome could join in the fun, and no doubt did.

The large portico and atrium were necessary because this was the St. Peter’s of its day, and crowds appeared to be blessed by the Pope. The magnificent Vatican church we know would not be completed for centuries. To the right of the atrium a garden connects the church to Palazzo Venezia (which now has excellent exhibitions open to the public), where the Pope lived.

Touching Tombs

Inside the fine portico, the small basilica is reminiscent of many of its larger sisters in Rome. The church owes its interior grandeur also to Pope Paul II, at least in the double portico and the sumptuous ceiling of gilded pattern with a blue background. The central nave is bordered by reddish columns. Along the side aisles, small altars are good places to kneel in privacy, usually. Venetian cardinals were often buried here and a praying figure can be seen at their tombs, welcoming us to join in.

Toward dusk, sometimes hanging lamps are lit, giving the whole church an Eastern ambience. We are drawn to the main altar, where in a wondrous concave shell of ninth-century mosaics, Christ blesses us at the center.

Beneath Christ, a row of sheep represent the apostles, with the Lamb of God at center. Above, Peter and Paul stand pointing to Christ and, above all, shine the symbols of the Evangelists: Mark’s lion, Matthew’s winged man, Luke’s ox and John’s eagle.

When you decide to leave, you might ask at the desk to see the scavi (excavations). Down a narrow stair you’ll see part of the original nave, placed farther away to avoid the Tiber River floods of those days. Also here are some tombs, significant because they show that Rome at about 500 A.D. allowed the dead to be buried within city limits, unlike the era of the catacombs.

Pausing here, don’t be surprised if a prayer for those whose tenacity and heroism kept the Church alive through the ages springs spontaneously from your lips.

Barbara Coeyman Hults

is based in New York City.

Planning Your Visit

This is a small church, and anytime is a good time to visit Rome. Just remember that the smaller churches of Rome close for the mid-day period.

Getting There

Across from the Victor Emanuel monument, the Vittoriana, the basilica is just off the via del Corso.