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Religion: Jubilant

4 minute read
TIME

Early on the day before Christmas, a stir that had moved for weeks beneath the regal calm of the Vatican rose to its crescendo. Through lofty-ceilinged corridors and spacious chambers, the imminence of a great occasion loomed almost into sight, quickening men’s steps, sharpening conversations. Legates, priests, guards, swarms of distinguished visitors came and went busily or stood in knots waiting. The sheen of myriad deep-dyed silks, the richness of furs and laces and sparkling gems moved everywhere in splendid profusion. Occasionally way was made for the slow, scarlet dignity of a cardinal, gala in ceremonial robes, snowy linens and flashing rings, come to present solemn Christmas greetings to the Pope.

Toward sundown, the stir hushed. All was ready and the imminence pressed to reveal itself. The doors of the Pontiff’s apartment trembled, parted, delivered up a gorgeous procession led by a canopied sedan chair on the shoulders of twelve scarlet-clad sediarii. Down vast corridors, down wide steps into the Sistine Chapel moved the procession. There the canopied chair opened and Pope Pius XI stepped out, knelt, worshipped. Entering the chair again, he had himself carried on to the entrance to the great nave of St. Peter’s, his followers lowers carrying candles and chanting liturgical verses.

The majestic notes of Longhi’s pontifical march, blared out by six silver trumpets, apprised waiting throngs of the Holy Father’s arrival in the portico. After a pause, during which the Fathed donned his white and gold mitre and changed from the closed sedan to the famed sedia gestoria, the procession crossed the portico to where the papal throne had been set before the Holy Door of St. Peter’s. There the Pope descended and, while all knelt, approached the throne, accompanied by two attendants holding flabelli—great ostrich-feather fans—on either side of his head. The Pope prayed, arose and proceeded up the steps leading to the Holy Door. Someone handed him his studded gold hammer (TIME, Dec. 22). He raised his hand to smite.

“Aperite mihi portas justitiae!” he cried as he swung the hammer.

“Ingressus in eas confitebor Domino,” answered the singing chaplains.

One, two, three—the blows fell on a large slate tablet engraved with a golden cross. At the third blow the tablet cracked across. The door did not seem to budge. Pope Pius faced about and returned to his throne.

No sooner was he seated than the effect of his hammering was seen. The massive door was slowly falling in—lowered by unseen sampietrini (workmen) upon a bell-signal from the master of ceremonies. Down, down it went, and was wheeled away on massive casters affixed beforehand. Came the penitents of the Vatican basilica, with holy water and blessed towels, to scour and scrub and dry the aperture. Came a thunderous peal of joy from the bells of St. Peter’s, echoed at once all over Rome by 400 other church belfries. The Pope stood erect on his throne and chanted thanksgiving. The Sistine choir burst into the sublime music of Palestrina. It was the Holy Year, the 23rd Jubilee of Roman Catholicism, now at last begun.

With cross and candle, the Pope next knelt on the holy threshold, singing the Te Deum. When he arose, he crossed the threshold first of any. He was followed by Cardinals Bisleti and Lega, by the other Cardinals and, in the course of the evening, by some 60 jubilant thousands, all of whom kissed the side columns as they passed through.

Later, in the chapel of the Pieta, Pius XI addressed the religious brotherhoods of Rome, entrusting to them the care of the Holy Door and explaining its significance as the symbol of the eternal door of the City of God. Said he: “We hope the words ‘Glory to God and on earth, peace, good will toward men,’ will come true. May this Holy Year bring peace to the mind and peace to the heart and peace to the will.” Then he blessed his listeners and distributed among them jubilee med; showing the dome of St. Peter’s and an image of himself, one hand gi ping the scroll of his Jubilee bull, other uplifted as a sign of benediction.

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