The church of St. Prisca is situated on the Aventine hill (one of the original seven hills of Rome), very near to the church of Santa Sabina, where the Lenten Stational Church pilgrimage began on Ash Wednesday.

There is some confusion about who exactly St. Prisca was. We're not sure if she is somehow related or identified with St. Priscilla, who is also a prominent Roman saint. Anyhow, the remains of St. Prisca, who is said to be the first martyr in the West (St. Stephen was the first martyr in the East), are found under the main altar in this church, which is entrusted to the care of the Augustinians.

Tomorrow, I will be participating in the "Seven Church Walk," a tradition initiated by St. Philip Neri. The regular Stational Mass will be celebrated at the basilica of St. Mary Major, and then from there, a group of pilgrims will depart for the basilicas of St. Lawrence (outside the walls), the Holy Cross, John Lateran, St. Sebastian, St. Paul (outside the walls), and St. Peter. These seven churches are the seven major and minor basilicas of Rome. At each place, we will stop for at least a few moments of prayer (and rest!), and then head to the next church. Also included in the day is a nice lunch at a restaurant on the ancient Appian Way, near the catacombs of St. Sebastian.

We are celebrating Holy Week together as a seminary community this year (we only do this on even-numbered years), and I thought I would share with you the words of a hymn that we will sing throughout the week at the celebrations of the Liturgy of the Hours. In Latin the title is Vexilla regis (The royal banners), and the hymn has been sung during Holy Week since the 6th century. It's worth some meditation during these holy days (the "Great Week," as it used to be called).

The royal banners forward go,

The cross shines forth in mystic glow;

Where He in flesh, our flesh Who made,

Our sentence bore, our ransom paid.

Where deep for us the spear was dyed,

Life's torrent rushing from His side,

To wash us in that precious flood,

Where mingled water flowed, and blood.

O tree of beauty, tree of light!

O tree with royal purple bright!

Elect on whose triumphal breast

Those holy limbs should find their rest.

Blest tree, whose chosen branches bore

The wealth that did the world restore,

The price of humankind to pay,

And spoil the spoiler of his prey.

Upon its arms, like balance true,

He weighed the price for sinners due,

The price which none but He could pay,

And spoiled the spoiler of his prey.

O cross, our one reliance, hail!

Still may thy power with us avail

To give new virtue to the saint

And pardon to the penitent.

To Thee, eternal Three in One,

Let homage meet by all be done:

As by the cross Thou dost restore,

So rule and guide us evermore.  Amen.