Porte Sante
by Elizabeth Lev, appearing in Volume 47
Rome owes many of its greatest artistic glories to Jubilees. Michelangelo carved his Pietà for the Holy Year in 1500, Caravaggio’s Calling of Saint Matthew was commissioned for the Jubilee of 1600, and even the Spanish Steps were inaugurated for the 1725th anniversary of Christ’s birth.
These splendid monuments embellished the capital of Christendom for the expected influx of pious visitors, but the most important Jubilee furnishings, the Holy Doors, are strangely the least glamorous. So discreet are the Holy Doors, that not only are they often passed unnoticed outside of Jubilee Years, but even those passing through them might not know what they are.
The Holy Doors are a symbol of Jesus Christ, who said, “I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture” (John 10:9). Passing through the doors is an outward sign of the desire to return to Christ. And of the many symbols one might have used, such as a special altar or a particular relic, the choice of a portal offers a world of meanings to unpack as well as a reflection on the threshold between sin and salvation.
The Ancient Romans felt a deep spiritual presence in all things. The mysterious passage from outside to inside, whether in a home or a public square, was governed by Janus, the two-headed god. Christians also recognized the significance of thresholds, but emphasized their welcoming aspect, encouraging all to enter the house of the Lord.
As church design grew more sophisticated, the elegance of their doors increased. Rome’s Santa Sabina church still boasts its fifth-century doors with carved cypress panels representing the history of salvation from the Old Testament to the New. They contain one of the earliest depictions of Christ’s crucifixion, where Jesus is portrayed as an open-armed victor over death.
In the Middle Ages, doors grew more precious, trading wood for bronze. And the dawn of the second millennium saw an array of portals featuring narrative panels, such as the stunning 1015 Bernward Doors in Hildesheim Cathedral, decorated with reliefs paralleling scenes from Genesis and the Gospels. The Amalfitano merchant Pantaleone commissioned beautiful bronze panels inlaid with silver in 1070 for the Basilica of Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls, and in 1179, Barisano of Trani sculpted the bronze relief door panels on the Cathedral of Monreale to the delight of pilgrims and congregants.
This tradition of bronze doors would culminate in Lorenzo Ghiberti’s work for the Florentine baptistery. The ten gilt panels described Old Testament scenes with such skill that they were dubbed the “Gates of Paradise” by Michelangelo. Facing the cathedral, these doors marked the journey into new life through baptism, and the exquisite panels underscored the preciousness of the sacrament.
In France, sacred thresholds developed differently. As the stone cathedrals rose in the north, draping Europe in what eleventh-century Cluniac monk Rodulfus described as a “white mantle of churches,” stonemasons surpassed bronzesmiths in portal decoration. While the doors remained in wood, their carved cornices grew ever more elaborate. The structural arches, meant to relieve the weight over the door, were embellished with tightly packed reliefs, usually of the Last Judgment. Congregants entered the church under huddled masses of nudes awaiting their verdicts, with the harrowing vision of the damned herded into the monstrous jaws of the devil. Their refuge was the vision of Christ, seated in the center of the composition with arms open in recollection of the cross, a visual invitation to go through him towards salvation.
All this led to Rome’s Holy Doors. The first Holy Door in Rome was opened at Saint John Lateran in 1423 by Pope Martin IV Colonna, and the other three were added in 1500 at Saint Peter’s, Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls, and Saint Mary Major by none other than Pope Alexander VI Borgia. Deeply moved by the Jubilee, Alexander VI also wrote the rite that would be used for the opening ceremony for centuries, which quotes Psalm 118(117): “Open the doors of justice to me, and I will enter.” In Incarnationis Mysterium, Saint John Paul II wrote that the passage through the door “evokes the passage from sin to grace which every Christian is called to accomplish” (IM 8). Therefore, a sincere desire to turn away from sinful impediments to grace is the key to this door.
The four Holy Doors of the papal basilicas are bricked up when not in use. The opening rite used to involve hammering the doors to break them down. After a near miss in 1974 when parts of the crumbling wall nearly fell on Pope Paul VI, that practice was discontinued, but the breaking of that wall was a potent visual evocation of the barrier between human pride and contrition.
Though pilgrims often don’t notice the doors, it is interesting to see how each basilica has used art and architecture in these furnishings of forgiveness.
Saint John Lateran may be the oldest Holy Door and in the cathedral of Rome to boot, but if it weren’t for the tireless Jubilee volunteers standing outside, it would be hard to distinguish. There are no signs to explain the conditions for indulgence, nor texts of helpful prayers to solemnize this occasion. Unfortunately, the first thing the pilgrim encounters upon entering the porch is a wooden barrier—not exactly the most suitable symbol of mercy. Furthermore, the bronze doors by Floriano Bondini featuring a contorted crucified Christ rising above a hulking Madonna and Child are unlikely to be mistaken for Ghiberti’s “Gates of Paradise” in Florence. These doors, commissioned by Saint John Paul II for the Jubilee in the year 2000, certainly recall the high cost of salvation, but offer little aesthetic encouragement to the pilgrim. A few steps beyond, however, Giotto’s charming fresco illustrates the first Jubilee declared by Boniface VIII in 1300.
One can scarcely miss Saint Mary Major’s Holy Door, since “Porta Santa” is prominently inscribed on the lintel, but it is hemmed in by information booths and ticket desks, impeding a dignified procession through the door. The doors themselves, also from the Jubilee Year of 2000, are a triumph of Marian “girl power” past and present. One side shows Mary declared “Mother of God” at the fifth-century Council of Ephesus while the other captures her proclamation as “Mother of the Church” at the Second Vatican Council. Cast by the sculptor Luigi Mattei and donated to the basilica by the Order of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre, they replaced an earlier set featuring the life of the Virgin (now the main door). While obviously modern, they evoke a lovely complementarity between Mary the Intercessor and the powerful figure of the Risen Christ. This entrance leads pilgrims straight to the feet of Our Lady Queen of Peace, then on to the chapel of the “Salus Populi Romani” icon of Mary, a perfect site to pray for the intentions of the Holy Father.
Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls greets the weary pilgrim with an oasis of peace. Green grass, tall palms, and the silent statue of the apostle to the Gentiles invite contemplation. Next to the stunning eleventh-century portals mentioned above are Enrico Manfrini’s Holy Doors, also from 2000. Large panels in flattened relief represent images of the Passion, Resurrection and Pentecost, alongside modern scenes of sacraments and witness. A Latin inscription across the base promises peace and salvation to those who enter the sacred site of Saint Paul’s burial, just 100 yards away.
Despite the frustrations caused by crowds, security, and bureaucracy, nothing compares to Saint Peter’s Holy Doors. Pilgrims meet at the Castel Sant’Angelo to receive one of the lightweight Jubilee crosses and move in procession down the Via della Conciliazione reciting prayers. Stragglers meld into the organized groups embodying the ecclesia, a convocation of the faithful. Surprisingly, Saint Peter’s Holy Doors are the smallest of the basilica, perhaps a symbol of the humility required to ask forgiveness. They too are bronze, fashioned in 1949 by Vico Consorti. They feature scenes of forgiveness: the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears; Jesus telling Peter to forgive “seven times seventy times”; and the “good thief” crucified with Christ. Immediately upon entering the basilica, the pilgrim is confronted with Michelangelo’s Pietà, strategically placed next to the Holy Door to illustrate the sacrifice that bought redemption. Michelangelo enveloped Christ’s lifeless body in the robes of an oversized Mary, meant to command attention. Michelangelo’s Mary guides pilgrims after they receive the precious indulgence. Her unshakable trust in God and her constant acceptance of divine will serves as a beacon for the faithful as they enter through the doors and into new life.
These portals, symbolic of God’s desire to forgive, wait with open arms like the father in the parable of the prodigal son. In his papal bull Misericordus Vultus, Pope Francis wrote that “the Holy Door will become a Door of Mercy through which anyone who enters will experience the love of God who consoles, pardons, and instills hope” (MV 3).