23 – Now we are standing on the threshold of the portal. It is pleasing to see that this abbey always leaves its doors open. An unusual awareness begins to form in my mind. I have always considered churches, abbeys and monasteries as being splendid museums. In all of them I have always admired the architecture, paintings, and statues, while remaining absolutely indifferent to what is … invisible. At Sant’Antimo it is not the same. It’s not only the beauty of the scenery, the overwhelming splendour of the abbey, a feeling of calm and peace that envelops you, on your arrival, but also the warm and invisible welcome that impresses you, as you enter the church. It’s a soothing breeze that appeases every anxiety. It is an entering onto the road of a personal search.
24 – Brother Giovanni interrupts my thoughts as he summons to me from within,“Francesco, come here! Just try to imagine how many people, believers and unbelievers, across the centuries, have walked on these very stones where we are now walking. How many pilgrims, how many wayfarers, now as then, have crossed the threshold of this abbey in search of the fount of salvation; how many astonished eyes, opened up to faith. But now look attentively! You too shall see what a person of the Middle Ages saw, on entering this church. Solid columns soaring up towards the sky like the trunks of magnificent trees, where the rays of the sun play about, to hide themselves between the capitals as if between the branches in a forest. It is the garden of Eden, the lost paradise. At the centre there is a mountain – the altar – on which the great tree of the cross is planted, the symbol of life and salvation. And then, if you look at the wooden ceiling, you can see the keel of a vessel. It is the ark of Noah, the vessel that moves across the flood waters, to carry those who believe to their heavenly homeland. These are symbols and messages expressed by the architecture in this church. A person from the Middle Ages, cultured or uncultured, knew well how to read and decipher them. Today, the benches which occupy the central nave, impede a more global and enlarged vision, so to distract one’s attention from the architectonic details with their artistic and symbolic value.”
25 – The brother remains silent, and seems to be lost in a far off vision. Then he sits on a bench, and continues, “Isolated in an exceptional way, and protected by the valley of the Starcia, today this abbey is situated at a certain distance from the major travel routes. In order to arrive at Sant’Antimo, you must deviate from the main road, but only if you know that this artistic monument exists, and you want to visit it. But this was not always so. During the 8th century, the Benedictines did not build their monasteries in distant zones, but on the more important crossroads of the epoch. During that period, characterised by continual factions, the abbeys stood as vital art-centres, particularly distinguished by their architecture. They were quiet, safe, and relatively tranquil havens, enjoying prosperous economical conditions. In order to give you a more exact idea, I have ‘redrawn’ the roads passing near Sant’Antimo during the Middle Ages. Look here!”
26 – I throw a look at the little map, and then gaze around. I watch the people as they enter. Some walk along looking upwards or turning their heads to right and left. Others, studying the guidebook, stop in front of each piece of art. Others are taking photos, while others kneel down on the kneeling stools, for a moment of meditation.
I draw close to brother Giovanni, and say, “What a lot of people come to see Sant’Antimo! They enter, they look, they walk about, and then go off. Who knows how much of all this will remain in their hearts?
Smilingly, the brother ruffles my hair with one hand. “Many men and women, during the past centuries, prayed, hoped, and believed under these vaults. They too entered, looked about, walked within, and then went off. But for them it was a journey of faith. The pilgrim that arrived from the north on the Via Francigena, or from the Maremma region on the west, stopped here in order to venerate the relics of Sant’Antimo, and in order to rest. Once having crossed the threshold of the church, the pilgrim entered onto a severely outlined itinerary. Let us too walk along it. It was a symbolic, spiritual journey that had already commenced before entering the church. The column-bearing lions on both sides of the main portal represented the forces of evil, inducing the wayfarer to hasten his steps towards the inner side of the church, where to find refuge and salvation. So entering, he first made his way to the image of Saint Christopher, to venerate the patron saint of wayfarers. He then proceeded along the northern aisle, to follow, from the left, the entire ambulatory, until reaching the crypt, where he stopped to pray at the tomb of Sant’Antimo. On leaving the crypt, he moved towards the exit along the southern aisle, passing under the capital where Daniel is depicted in the lion’s den.
“This walk represented the itinerary of the soul, which the believer had to follow in order to pass from sin to grace, from death to life. An itinerary that began at the north, i.e. from cold, darkness, and death, to pass through the cross, symbol of Grace that saves and renews, and concluded at the south, in the sun, in the light, in life.
“In those days, many monks never left the monastery, making this symbolic journey within the walls of the church, as the only pilgrimage permitted throughout their life.
“This rite is relived today at Sant’Antimo during the week of Easter. To recall the original itinerary, a very touching and impressive procession accompanied by the Gregorian chant starts off from the main altar, crosses the entire length of the church, to enter the side aisles, and from the ambulatory, then returns again to end in front of the cross.
“And now, could we say a prayer together?”