Pagan Graves in Vatican Basement!
By Barbie Nadeau
October 14, 2006
Oct. 13, 2006 - Just inside the Vatican's fortified walls, directly below the street connecting its private pharmacy and its members-only supermarket, lies a 2,000-year-old graveyard littered with bizarre, often disturbing displays of pagan worship. Under one metallic walkway, the headless skeleton of a young boy rests in an open grave. At his side, a marble replica of a hen's egg, which to pagans represented the rebirth of the body through reincarnation. Nearby, countless skeletons lie scattered among the remnants of terra cotta vases used in pagan ceremonies. The underground air is damp with the smell of wet dirt, and the clay tubes used by the pagans to feed their dead with honey and syrup still protrude, fingerlike, from the ground.
Walking among the exposed bones of any ancient graveyard would be chilling enough. But when it's a pagan necropolis directly beneath Vatican City, arguably Christianity's holiest shrine, then the situation redlines right into completely unnerving. Or it would be if it weren't so enthralling, especially for anyone who has ever pondered Roman Catholicism's pagan roots. The Necropoli dell'Autoparco (literally Necropolis of the Parking Garage), a 2,000-year-old burial ground, which opens to the public Oct. 20, offers a rarely seen glimpse of the close ties between pagans and Christians during the Augustan era (23 B.C.-14 A.D.). "You see a mix of social class and even religious beliefs here,' says Francesco Buranelli, director of the Vatican Museums, who believes that including the pagan graveyard as part of the Vatican's museums will foster awareness of the roots of Catholicism and the importance of its Roman history. The site "brings together the rich and the poor, the plebes and the nobles," he says. "We have not opened an exhibit as historically significant in recent history."
The necropolis was discovered by accident in 2003 when construction workers broke ground for a new parking garage for Vatican employees. After local residents complained that dump trucks leaving the site were carrying tombstones and other seemingly important archaeological debris, the Vatican admitted uncovering what was believed to be an ancient Roman burial ground. Little further explanation was offered. But in the waning days of John Paul II's papacy, plans were made to open the graveyard to the public. John Paul himself was a student of Rome's pagan roots. But when he was succeeded by the more conservative Pope Benedict XVI, the plan was nearly derailed—until the Vatican's official archeologists insisted that the Holy See carry through the plans to honor the former pope. Indeed, when it opens next week as part of the Vatican Museums' 500th anniversary, the very fact that it exists so publicly is a testament to the Holy See's curious new willingness to promote that which it does not necessarily believe. "Everyone always thinks that if it's not about pure Christianity, the Vatican isn't interested," says Cristina Gennaccari, an archaeologist with the Vatican Museums. "But there are many pagan aspects of all things modern, and when it comes to archeology, especially religious archeology, there is really no room for distinction."
Funerary statue of an infant with inscription 'Tiberius Natronius Vemustus' from the family tomb of the Natronii family—part of the pagan cemetery uncovered beneath the Vatican
At first, Gennaccari explains, it wasn't clear just what had been discovered—whether it was a continuation of St. Peter's necropolis under the basilica or simply a small family mausoleum. But when excavators found that the site was much more expansive than a family tomb, they called in the Vatican's sacred archeologists, who confirmed that this was, as one says, the "a mini Pompeii" in terms of historical significance, second only in importance to the necropolis under the dome of St. Peter's Basilica, where the bones of St. Peter himself are believed to be buried. Cardinal Francesco Marchisano, head of the Pontifical Commission for Sacred Archeology, admits that while they did have to reduce the original plan for the parking lot, it was worth it. "It's just not easy to dig with all those wonderful things underground."
Besides, the Vatican is quick to point out, some of the bones in the necropolis belonged to people who were, as Gennaccari puts it, "on the verge of conversion to Christianity." She points to a carving on the sarcophagus of a young third-century soldier that shows a young woman kneeling next to a tree upon which a bird roosts. These symbols, she says, represent the soldier's potential belief in Christianity: "It brings him into the Christian realm," she asserts. Another carving shows a man praying in a way that early Christians did, she says, which could show that he was also an early convert, or at least had the inclination. Never mind that nearby, the tombs of others are decorated with obviously pagan mosaics elaborately depicting, among other things, a drunken Dionysus, the god of wine and fertility, being held aloft by a satyr. Many of the tombs are still equipped with the oil lamps used by mourners for illumination when they read to their dead to keep them occupied until the next life.
Luckily, the graves were largely undamaged due to what archeologists believe was a second-century mudslide that sealed the site, much like Mount Vesuvius's volcanic explosion that "froze' Pompeii. The site now encompasses four separate digs that run along the ancient thoroughfares of the Via Triumphalis. In all, the Necropoli dell'Autoparco holds more than 250 excavated tombs, including 40 elaborate mausoleums. Initially, only two sections of the dig will be open to the public, including the grave of the pagan boy with the egg and the family grave of Alcimus, one of Emperor Nero's slaves who, according to the inscription, also made decorations for the Teatro di Pompeo, a favorite haunt of Nero himself.
Even though the dig is Roman and not religious in nature, the archaeologists have had no interaction beyond official courtesy visits by Italy's Cultural Ministry, who keep a close watch on excavations in Rome. The Vatican remains steadfastly independent. "We are an individual state," says Gennaccari. "It's no different than if the necropolis had been discovered in France or any other sovereign nation. It's ours."
The graveyard will be open to the public only on Friday and Saturday
mornings, by appointment, for €5 ($6.25). It will also remain an active
archaeological dig until the sacred archaeologists feel they have cataloged and
uncovered as much as they can, or need to. While Gennaccari admits that there
are probably more treasures under the buildings that form the core of Vatican
City's infrastructure—mainly under the pharmacy and grocery
store—"It'll be hard,' she says with a shrug, "to convince anyone
that we have to dislocate some of our modern conveniences to see what else is
there." For now, the Necropolis of the Parking Garage is probably as deep as
the Vatican wants to dig into its pagan roots.