Thursday, October 1, 2026

She Who Shows the Way

Matera, Italy (and all of Southeast Italy)

The art and theology of Matera. The Church of St. Mary of Idris was from a Greek phrase – a church in the rock. The women would come to pray for rain. They would drop to the ground and crawl to the altar, begging the Virgin Mary for water. 

Living water. 

Our lady of water. 

It was the physical necessity they needed. The Sassi people are literally the rock people. 

13th century churches – art depicting Christ with a Greek blessing of the hand – the thumb and pinky touch and the three middle fingers are straight. It is the dual nature of Christ and the trinity represented by the fingers. A sign of blessing. 

Greek-speaking monks fled westward during persecution. San Giovanni rock church – Eastern monasticism. 

There are layers and layers of history, just like the layers and layers of rocks and caves and homes built into every possible crease and crevase. Matera is an area to be studied and researched. It has these preserved cave and rock homes and churches from centuries ago. In the middle of the 20th century, the Italian government needed to step in because the people had been forgotten. They had no resources. No hope left for a functioning community. Matera and the Sassi people were living in squalor, in cave homes with no modern amenities and no way to keep their families healthy. The people were excavated from this rock city. 

The amazing thing is: the city has since built up around this rock community and has become a bustling and modern town. It has all of the modern amenities of a city, in addition to, the preserved place of the rock people. Everything that is still usable is used. Mostly for tourism, but that is one of the most sustaining industries. We parked next to a college (possibly of church history or theology), and then walked past schools and saw a field trip of kids touring the sassi caves and churches. Like most places with marble and travertine roads (my jaw drops every time), it is slippery. The stones beneath your feet are so worn with time that your shoes just slide and slide over every rounded piece. I took my shoes off at one point to walk a little better as we walked down from the Church in the Rock. 

Literally, it is the church built into the biggest rock on the hill. The church is the rock and the rock is the church. The theology is just insanely complete. The church itself is fairly small inside – it is perfectly carved as a cave of several rooms with frescoes on several walls. This is where, it is said, the women came and crawled toward the altar at times to pray for rain for their families. They were going into the earth instead of up toward heaven (where most cathedrals seek to go). The theology is one of earth and elements; it is the very breath we breathe and the space that we inhabit; and nothing more. There is no room for excess or additional grandeur. God is in the rocks and the rain and the warmth of the sun.

Eric and I were able to do this morning outing by ourselves as the kids stayed back to work on school. We created a podcast for ourselves about the history of the area and it had phenomenal information about this area in Southeast Italy. I cannot recommend this area highly enough. In our podcast, we had sources for a nearby town, Altamura. It said we must stop to find this bread from a tiny shop. Everytime we get a challenge like this, we must take it. We drove into this town, similar in size to Matera. We easily parked for free on the street and started walking. Whisked from the modern street into the historic city center, I was mesmerized by the castle wall, the flags of the community, and the quaint nature of the town. We quickly realized how special this side trip for bread was. I would call it holy. 

A couple was getting married at the town center – on a Monday (this was September 28th) in the middle of the day. We curved around through the alleyways to find this bakery – the one with the sourdough semolina bread. There was barely a sign and I knew she closed at 1:30pm. It was 1:12. I went in and asked, “Pagnotte?” And she smiled and said, “si, uno?” 

Due pagnotte, per favore. 

That will be 6 euro she says – and as usual, I am floored by the reasonable prices for two huge loaves of bread. She hands them to me and then says, “uno momento.”

She hands each of us a slice of focaccia bread with tomato on top and practically dripping with olive oil and spices. She was closing up and offering a gift to those of use who happened into her bakery today. My eyes have been opened to the power of a great Extra Virgin Olive Oil and a few simple ingredients on bread. Here, I can eat bread. This is the bread I will have to learn to make when I get home. Italian Semolina Sourdough Bread!

In the car, I broke the big loaf of bread communion style. I loved the visit to the church in the rock. I loved the peace and quiet of the morning. I loved southeast Italy with its sweet towns and people. We drove back to the apartment in Polignano a Mare and then explored that perfect and tiny town that evening with the kids. On the last morning, we all went for a quick visit to the charming Alberobello. It has a fascinating history and it stays preserved as a unique artform for building houses with no permanent mortar in between the small bricks that make the cylindrical roofs on the Trulli houses. It is where you might imagine the real life smurfs to live. Yes, it’s touristy. Maybe the most touristy. But we were in and out by 11am and we toured the museum, walked through the village, bought postcards from the cutest Italian grandma I have ever smiled at, and we got some panzerotti.

We only had two nights in southeast Italy and I wished we had twenty-two nights. There is so much I wanted to explore – Lecce, Monopoli, Gallipoli, Otranto, Brindisi. We did see Bari as we drove toward the airport. We had time for lunch and a walk into the Basilica of St. Nicholas. He is the inspiration for Santa Claus for goodness sake. 

I could spend a lot more time here.