Rome: Where History and Faith Stand as Pillars
Rome reveals itself like no other city.
With dense layers of history stretching back to ancient times, it is a place where you feel the past woven into every street and stone.
Two grand pillars anchor the city: the legacy of the Roman Empire and the enduring influence of Christianity.
In this city, history and faith are not mere elements of architecture or tradition; they are the very framework holding it together.
The first of these pillars is Rome’s ancient history, vividly embodied by the Colosseum.
The city’s commitment to preserving its heritage means you won’t find skyscrapers casting shadows over its ruins.
Instead, the Colosseum, with its weathered stone arches, emerges like a quiet sentinel when glimpsed through Rome’s narrow streets.
The first sight of it is striking—a marvel of endurance and grandeur, standing defiantly amid the bustle of modern life.
Each glance reminds you of the city’s remarkable continuity, its refusal to forget the empire that once ruled vast swaths of the world.
But Rome is more than ruins.
The second pillar is a living one: Christianity.
Around every corner, you encounter symbols of faith—the centuries-old churches, the statues of saints, and relics quietly embedded into the daily life of the city.
Rome is both the spiritual and physical heart of the Catholic world, an influence that breathes through the streets with a seamless presence.
It is only upon leaving that one notices the depth of this religious interweaving, a weight carried naturally here yet missing in so many other cities.
Having lived in Paris and London and visited cities across Europe, I had never before felt the profound weight of history and faith intertwined as powerfully as I did in Rome.
I was grateful for the chance to stand at this crossroad of empire and religion, feeling both the historical epicenter of civilization and the spiritual home for millions of Christians.
Reflecting on this, I remembered a notorious map reportedly circulated by ISIS a few years ago, which outlined a vision of conquest across Europe.
Interestingly, Italy was absent from their path.
It took me a while to understand this omission.
Perhaps even the most radical minds recognized the Vatican’s profound influence as the heart of Catholicism, an unshakeable pillar not easily toppled by any force.
The Vatican: Empire of Faith
Back in Tokyo now, I am still struck by memories of Rome, especially the Vatican.
To visit Vatican City was a dream fulfilled, an ambition rooted deep in childhood.
Although raised in a country shaped by Shintoism and Buddhism, my mother’s Christian background and my Western education brought a strong Christian influence into my life.
Standing within the Vatican Museums, I felt the influence of that faith—vast, complex, and sometimes contradictory.
The Vatican’s collections, unexpectedly diverse, include artifacts from religions far older than Christianity.
This struck me as remarkable: these remnants of the Roman Empire’s original faith traditions survive here, in the heart of Catholicism.
Pope Julius II, who amassed these artifacts, must have known that some would view his fascination as heretical or disloyal.
How did he justify this to his followers, I wondered?
Perhaps he saw these pieces as symbols of continuity, as treasures to be preserved rather than erased.
The Vatican’s role in history is unique.
Where Britain built an empire through monarchy and military might, Rome’s religious empire was rooted in faith and influence.
It too wielded power, yet its center—the Pope—was not bound to a single bloodline, evolving instead through the centuries with leaders from all parts of Europe.
And, unlike the British crown, each new Pope reshaped and redefined the Church’s vision. It is an empire not of conquest, but of spiritual dominion.
An Audience with Pope Francis
The highlight of my visit was attending Pope Francis’s sermon.
It was early morning, and the anticipation was palpable.
The Pope arrived in an open white jeep, accompanied by the resonant chants of a choir, their low voices echoing through the square.
There he was, at the center of it all—smiling warmly, almost incongruously, amid a sea of solemn security.
His presence was a reminder that the Vatican does not move with the times; it remains, unshaken, a world unto itself.
For hours, we listened as the Pope spoke, switching between languages, opening the Bible, sharing his messages of faith.
In that moment, the Vatican felt less like a monument and more like a living empire—a kingdom of believers united by a lineage of faith, with Pope Francis, at the helm.
I thought to myself: perhaps Rome’s empire never truly fell; it merely evolved, carrying forward a legacy that now lives on in the Vatican.
