Makes sense! Wherever we are, it’s best to be sensitive to and follow local customs—it’s at the heart of intercultural communication.
When I came to Rome in the fall of 1962 (12 years after my first, pilgrimage visit) for three years of Canon Law studies, I already had training in spoken Spanish and Puerto Rican culture. Hispanic culture has many affinities with the Italian, a definite plus!
It was relatively easy to start speaking Italian, since most words were similar to their Spanish equivalents. It was curious for some people, though, since I seemed to be an American but was speaking Italian with a Spanish accent!
It was also relatively easy to get used to Italian ways and customs, since they had many commonalities with the Hispanic.
I got a Vespa to travel back and forth to the Lateran University. Wearing a cassock in public in 1962 was still required for priests, so black robes flapping, I’d scoot down the avenue through the Forum area and circle the Colosseum to get to class.
The Americans were notoriously faithful to class attendance, but I soon noticed that the Italian way was different. The classes were almost entirely Latin lectures, and everyone had easy access to the professor’s text, verbatim!
There was no daily attendance taken, but the last day or two of each month, the lecturer would sign a little ID/attendance booklet each student had to carry.
I learned from the Italians, who were notoriously absent each month from the daily lectures but who were always present for month end signings. So, “when in Rome, do as the Romans do”, I followed their lead!
Since I had the lecture texts, I found it much easier to read and study them at home and have more time to explore the Code of Canon Law and its commentaries. However, my U.S. compatriots were scandalized by my apparently lax behavior!
Pope Paul VI, who was elected in 1963, changed the norms for clerical dress in his diocese: Priests could wear a conservative style suit and tie. It made sense to me, “when in Rome do as the Romans do”, but it shocked some of my more conservative (of New York traditions) confreres.
A very Roman and Italian thing are the concepts of “bella figura” and “bruta figura”—referring to the importance of appearances and not giving scandal. In short, looking good is very important. Here’s a personal example:
During the first session of Vatican II, the newly restored rite of concelebration was still “ad experimentum”—it required an indult or authorization to be used.
The priests and seminarians of the New York Archdiocese in Rome got together for Mass usually once a year. We discussed whether we could get permission to concelebrate. I was delegated to work on it.
I requested a meeting with the bishop secretary of the congregation responsible for liturgy and explained our request. “Ah,” he said, “permission for the experimental rite is usually only for monasteries and special liturgical centers.”
However, he did ask where we planned to celebrate this Mass. “In the catacomb of Priscilla”. I told him.
“In the catacomb, just the small group of you?”, he asked, and I replied in the affirmative. “Bene, bene!” he said, and a few days later I returned to get an elegant Latin rescript authorizing that Mass.
Looking good and not giving scandal makes sense. It’s an important value in Italian culture, and it’s not hypocritical. It’s important to avoid giving scandal, to look good, and even more to be good!
5 March 2021