If you’ve been lucky enough to visit St. John Lateran in Rome, you’ll have seen
the inscription that runs across the front saying: “The sacrosanct Lateran Church, mother
and head of all the churches of the City and of the world.” In a sense, the St. John Lateran
Basilica is a mother who has been teaching us what it means to be Church for more
than 1,700 years. It, not St. Peter’s, is the Pope’s cathedral and, through our unity with
the Pope, we have a special connection to it.
The basilica teaches us by its sheer size. When the Emperor Constantine
legalized Christianity in 312, he made it possible for Christians to worship publically
for the first time. But temples in the ancient world were very small – even the temple
in Jerusalem had a very small sanctuary because the people didn’t participate in
worship. They stood outside as the High Priest worshipped for them.
Constantine, therefore, must’ve been surprised when he said to Pope Silvester,
“How big of a temple do you want?” and the pope replied, “How big can you build it?” The
idea that people would participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was
the first place built for public Christian worship in Rome and it set the standard for all
others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that our liturgies are never things we watch
like spectators, but always something in which we participate. No one can do our
prayer for us. Jesus drove the money changers out of the temple because he didn’t
want a temple where people bought sacrifices; he wanted a new temple in which the
presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of Christ’s body. The ideal,
of course, is that when we participate, every reading of Scripture will speak to our
hearts and every Eucharist can be a life-changing encounter with Jesus.
We also learn something from the Baptistery of St. John Lateran. It has red
columns and elaborately carved pillars which were taken from imperial monuments in
Rome. The builders could’ve used new materials, they didn’t have to use things from
other buildings, but I believe they did so for a purpose. That which was secular
becomes sacred; that which was profane is now incorporated into the Body of Christ.
Those old pieces of marble and red porphyry formerly adorned temples of the pagan
emperors but, through the grace of Baptism, are now part of the Church. That is the
power of baptism – it changes us and makes us new in Christ.
Lastly, the gilded bronze pillars near the tabernacle were given by Constantine
to the Basilica. In 30BC, Augustus, the heir to Julius Caesar, conquered the
Cleopatra’s navy. He confiscated all the Egyptian ships and removed their bronze
prows. He had them melted and molded into 4 pillars for the temple of Jupiter. They
were a signal and symbol that a new era had begun. Constantine, in turn, gave them to
the Basilica of St. John Lateran to make the same statement … but now for the
Church – a new day had dawned and Christianity no longer had to hide in fear of
persecution.
May we always keep the Basilica of St. John Lateran in our hearts.