Of basilicas and doors: The Porta Sanctas of the Vatican and Rome

The Holy See and the Eternal City have always had a spiritual way of seamlessly weaving the divine into the every day. With the independent city state enclave and the Italian capital, revered faith and glorious history have long marched together, hand-in-hand, its four papal basilicas devotedly safeguard their respective sacred gateways — The Holy Doors.

These much-awaited portals, meticulously sealed with cement and mortar and opened only during declared Jubilee Years — with a few rare exceptions through the years, as ordered by the incumbent pope — were not simply architectural features. They are symbols of passage from the weight of the past into the possibility of renewal, from damnation to grace.

These Porta Sanctas are believed to absolve and grant the much-sought-after plenary indulgence at the time of the remission of sins — all forgiven, released from the guilt, penalties and consequences of wrongdoings — after one has passed through.

At St. Peter’s Basilica, the Holy Door stood as both an everlasting threshold and a treasured promise. Flocking it were several young active pilgrims — hundreds, perhaps even a thousand — all attending the World Youth Day, presided by Pope Leo XIV the day before at the little town of Tor Vergata within the city outskirts.

My siblings and I found ourselves surrounded by seemingly countless groups of youths from all over the world, led by one bearing a cross, another with a flag with the country they represented and yet a third one with a musical instrument, all in procession from different directions, their music and hymns filling the air.

It was a challenge — I would admit almost impossible – to take a photo. A continuous steady flow of spoilers — of “photobombers” as my grandniece Ana would complain. But then again, that was the point — to capture the essence of it all — as it truly was hopelessly crowded.

The first basilica on this site rose in the 4th century under Emperor Constantine. By the High Middle Ages, it had become a popular pilgrimage destination of the Western world. In the year 1506, Pope Julius II had ordered the demolition of the original structure to make way for a grander house of prayer.

What followed then were monumental projects, to involve Bramante, Raphael, Michelangelo — masters all, simply known by their mononyms. Much later, Bernini, who developed the Baroque style of sculpture, beautifully completed the interiors of the magnificence, seen, admired and awed today.

During the present Jubilee Year, from 24 December 2024 to 6 January 2026 — the late Pope Francis himself ceremoniously opened the door — and since then, prayerful pilgrims have eagerly crossed — as they had dreamt of — through one of the most sacred spaces in Christendom.

The Basilica of Saint Paul Beyond The Walks held the second Holy Door, reminding everyone it had been constructed outside the ancient city limits. After the Edict of Milan in 313, Emperor Constantine graciously donated two basilicas to the faithful — one for Peter, one for Paul.

At this domain, devout pilgrims honored the Apostle to the Gentiles. And soon, the numbers grew in massive proportions, too numerous for the original structure. By the 5th century, Theodosius, Valentinian II and Arcadius — all emperors — had demanded for a larger church, reoriented so that it faced west. What we marvel at today — after a devastating fire — was completed in the 19th century, consecrated by Pope Pius IX in 1854.

Within the walls, we discovered the iron chain which, according to tradition, had bound Saint Paul to his guard while imprisoned in Rome.

We next noticed the familiar medallions of every pope along the nave. I recall from past visits only a few spaces remained unfilled — a sight that inspired whispers of legend: when all the blanks are taken, it would signal the world’s end. Our amiable and knowledgeable tour guide Mauro reassured that more slots had been quietly added. But the myth persists, as does the wonder.

The third door: St. John Lateran — formally the Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior and of Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist — is Rome’s oldest public church. Though tourists often do St. Peter’s their first stop, it is here, on the Caelian Hill, where the Pope’s official ecclesiastical seat lay. In essence, this is the cathedral of the Bishop of Rome.

The Laterani family had once owned the land until the infamous Emperor Nero — who history frames continued to play his harp as Rome was totally razed in flames – confiscated it after a plot against him. In time, the Lateran Palace rose, eventually gifted to the Church by Constantine. From then on, the basilica served as the residence of popes for centuries.

The Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, with its fourth Holy Door, stands proudly on the Esquiline Hill. It is the largest Roman church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Its foundation was tied to a miracle: snow had fallen on the morning of 5 August 358, outlining the place where Our Lady desired her church to rise. Even centuries later, during its annual feast, white rose petals are ceremoniously dropped from the ceiling, recalling the wondrous snowfall.

The basilica is home to the revered icon Salus Populi Romani — the Protectress of the Roman People. Tradition has linked it to the hand — icons are never painted, always written — of St. Luke the Evangelist.

Today, on a side is the final resting place of Pope Francis, as per his request. After all, during each of his worldwide apostolic journeys, he would visit and pray before the image upon his departure on papal missions, and then again immediately after his return.

Taken together, the Holy Doors of The Vatican and Rome, the beautiful thought sharply lingered, as much as the sites of doors bricked and yet unsealed, of basilicas towering above the city and the enclave, of pilgrims crisscrossing with their own personal purpose.

The Holy Doors formed a spiritual map — St. Peter’s with two bronze wings and eight compartments at the Vatican; the golden-bronze masterpiece at St. Paul’s beyond the walls; St. John Lateran on the Caelian, which depicts Christ on a cross along with the Virgin Mary embracing infant Jesus; and Santa Maria Maggiore on the Esquiline, which symbolizes reconciliation. Each had its own distinct narrative of apostles and emperors, of saints and sinners, miracles and mosaics, continuity and change. For the dedicated pilgrims such as my precious siblings and travel buddies, the very act of walking through these doors, coupled with acts of penance and sacrifice, may be — like us — their personal Holy Grails.