Postcard from Turin, Italy: Where the donkey fell, the Holy Spirit rose

A quick glance at several churches:

During one of the periods when the Duchy of Savoy was failing to get along with French cousins, the French rudely plundered a town and its church outside of Turin.

On the Feast Day of Corpus Christi in 1453, the scavengers brought their seized riches into the plaza of Turin to sell. A donkey bearing the ciborium containing the sacramental hosts fell. The Holy Spirit rose up from the saddle bag and illuminated the plaza. An obvious miraculous sign indicating the site for construction of a church.

Replacing an older church on the spot, the “new” Basilica del Corpus Domini was built in 1607 with later Baroque interior remodeling.

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.

Mark 10:35

Charitably showing their devotion to God – and perhaps an unwillingness to worship with those less successful – the Pious Congregation of Banks, Shopkeepers and Merchants established their own church for “encounter and prayer” in 1692. With an entrance almost hidden down a hallway in a building in, appropriately, Turin’s shopping district, Capella dei Mercanti is noted for its vault with frescos by Stefano Maria Legnani (1661-1713) and paintings by Andrea Pozzo (1642-1709).

Postcard from Genoa, Italy: Never judge an Italian church by its facade

Located just outside the original walls of Genoa’s historic center and with a mid-1800s Neoclassical façade, the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata de Vastato almost escaped our notice. If not nudged by our landlord, we would have missed the wildly rich Baroque interior added in the 17th century to the church built at the close of the 16th century.

Every church door we passed through in Genoa offered similar visual rewards, as some of these photographs indicate.

 

Postcard from Budapest, Hungary: The church of the Raven King of Hungary stands as stunning landmark

In 1458, a raven flew from Transylvania to Prague bearing a ring sent by the mother of Matthias to let him know to return home. Or so some claim. The raven and the ring symbol can be seen throughout Budapest, and Matthias became known as Matthias Corvinus, corvinus meaning raven in Latin.

The Diet elected the 15-year-old king, even though he had no direct dynastic claim to the throne. He would rule until his death, somewhat suspicious in cause, in 1490. His reign was noted for increased military power, the rise of power of lower nobility at the expense of the upper crust and an artistic Renaissance.

Perched atop a hilltop on the Buda side of the river, the church known as Matthias Church is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The earliest portions of it were built in the 13th century. Styles range from a medieval relief depicting Mary’s death dates from 1370 to major Gothic details added to the outside and murals inside added at the close of the 19th century. The tallest tower was added by King Matthias, whose royal wedding was held in the church.

Conquering Turks in the mid-1500s white-washed the walls and covered them with carpets to transform the church into a serviceable mosque. Before the Ottoman invasion, some of the faithful walled up the Loreto Chapel containing a statue of the Black Madonna dating from 1515. An explosion in 1686 at the castle nearby sent that wall crumbling, and the statue reappeared for the faithful prior to the end of Ottoman control in 1699.

The church then was remodeled in the Baroque style. Among the kings whose coronations have been held there is Emperor Franz Josef in 1867.

The extensive changes characterizing the appearance of the church today were undertaken in 1895, including the installation of the gleaming, colorful Zsolnay ceramic roof tiles. Despite the intermingling of so many conflicting styles through the centuries, Matthias Church stands as a stunning landmark above the Danube.