L | A (Translated with ChatGPT)
By Davide Maniaci
San Carlo. Father Sergio Maionoldi, archpriest, during the Orthodox Mass
The Orthodox icons are situated alongside the frescoes of the saints. The Mass in Italian precedes services in Greek, Slavic, or Romanian, with no objections from attendees.
These neighborhood churches transport visitors into a distinctly Greek ambiance upon entry. In Vigevano, it is the Orthodox Christians who sustain two religious buildings that would otherwise fall victim to the passage of time. This exemplifies a model of peaceful coexistence between faiths and, pragmatically, resolves an existing issue.
For just under a year, the church of San Carlo, located on a secluded street in the historic center, has been administered by the Orthodox Church of the 'Protection of the Mother of God.' Previously, the faithful congregated in a municipal building.
The Diocese of Vigevano, under the leadership of Bishop Maurizio Gervasoni, has extended its hospitality to this community. San Carlo had not functioned as a parish for some time and had remained largely empty.
'We coexist peacefully,' explains Father Sergio Mainoldi, the Orthodox archpriest, 'with the Catholic worship, which is conducted in an adjacent chapel. During our services, many of their members light candles.'
On August 24, a celebratory event marked the 300th anniversary of the building's construction, characterized by an ecumenical ceremony where faithful from various denominations gathered in prayer. This community includes adopted residents of Vigevano, predominantly Ukrainians, Moldovans, and Russians. Approximately 90 active members attend services at least once a month.
San Giacomo Maggiore. Father Cristian Alexandru is a reference point for the Orthodox community
On Corso Genova, a heavily trafficked street, lies the convent of the Madgalene Sisters, which has long been under eviction. Within this expansive complex is the Romanian Orthodox parish of San Giacomo Maggiore.
It is part of the eponymous diocese that encompasses all of Italy. Inside the church, the atmosphere contrasts with its exterior; icons separate the sanctuary from the rest of the space. At the center are Christ and the Madonna, with the church's patron saint—St. James, celebrated on April 30—on the right, and St. Nicholas on the left.
The syncretism of familiar Catholic elements and more unusual Eastern images evokes a sense of wonder.
For the past ten years, this has been the base for the Romanian Orthodox community, thanks to the loan agreement established with the Diocese of Vigevano. Previously, they were compelled to gather in a small parish hall, praying amidst various challenges. The arrangement with the bishop changed that dynamic.
When Father Cristian Alexandru arrived in the city, he did not know his parishioners. He sought them out individually, almost door to door.
'Many,' he explains, 'had distanced themselves from religion, largely due to the inability to practice it here. I estimate there are around 1,300 adherents in the city, though the regular attendees are fewer. They are well-integrated individuals, whose children sometimes attend Catholic catechism. Discussions of God are common; there is no significant difference.'
Just before Easter, which is celebrated later than the Catholic observance, groups of families arrive slowly and peacefully. They fill all the parking spaces and patiently await the vigil of Good Friday, during which the building is surrounded by a stunning array of candles.
As darkness falls, they disperse with their candles in hand, lingering on the streets for a final farewell, transforming the streets of Vigevano into an unusually crowded scene filled with a pleasant hum and soft lights.
By Davide Maniaci
San Carlo. Father Sergio Maionoldi, archpriest, during the Orthodox Mass
The Orthodox icons are situated alongside the frescoes of the saints. The Mass in Italian precedes services in Greek, Slavic, or Romanian, with no objections from attendees.
These neighborhood churches transport visitors into a distinctly Greek ambiance upon entry. In Vigevano, it is the Orthodox Christians who sustain two religious buildings that would otherwise fall victim to the passage of time. This exemplifies a model of peaceful coexistence between faiths and, pragmatically, resolves an existing issue.
For just under a year, the church of San Carlo, located on a secluded street in the historic center, has been administered by the Orthodox Church of the 'Protection of the Mother of God.' Previously, the faithful congregated in a municipal building.
The Diocese of Vigevano, under the leadership of Bishop Maurizio Gervasoni, has extended its hospitality to this community. San Carlo had not functioned as a parish for some time and had remained largely empty.
'We coexist peacefully,' explains Father Sergio Mainoldi, the Orthodox archpriest, 'with the Catholic worship, which is conducted in an adjacent chapel. During our services, many of their members light candles.'
On August 24, a celebratory event marked the 300th anniversary of the building's construction, characterized by an ecumenical ceremony where faithful from various denominations gathered in prayer. This community includes adopted residents of Vigevano, predominantly Ukrainians, Moldovans, and Russians. Approximately 90 active members attend services at least once a month.
San Giacomo Maggiore. Father Cristian Alexandru is a reference point for the Orthodox community
On Corso Genova, a heavily trafficked street, lies the convent of the Madgalene Sisters, which has long been under eviction. Within this expansive complex is the Romanian Orthodox parish of San Giacomo Maggiore.
It is part of the eponymous diocese that encompasses all of Italy. Inside the church, the atmosphere contrasts with its exterior; icons separate the sanctuary from the rest of the space. At the center are Christ and the Madonna, with the church's patron saint—St. James, celebrated on April 30—on the right, and St. Nicholas on the left.
The syncretism of familiar Catholic elements and more unusual Eastern images evokes a sense of wonder.
For the past ten years, this has been the base for the Romanian Orthodox community, thanks to the loan agreement established with the Diocese of Vigevano. Previously, they were compelled to gather in a small parish hall, praying amidst various challenges. The arrangement with the bishop changed that dynamic.
When Father Cristian Alexandru arrived in the city, he did not know his parishioners. He sought them out individually, almost door to door.
'Many,' he explains, 'had distanced themselves from religion, largely due to the inability to practice it here. I estimate there are around 1,300 adherents in the city, though the regular attendees are fewer. They are well-integrated individuals, whose children sometimes attend Catholic catechism. Discussions of God are common; there is no significant difference.'
Just before Easter, which is celebrated later than the Catholic observance, groups of families arrive slowly and peacefully. They fill all the parking spaces and patiently await the vigil of Good Friday, during which the building is surrounded by a stunning array of candles.
As darkness falls, they disperse with their candles in hand, lingering on the streets for a final farewell, transforming the streets of Vigevano into an unusually crowded scene filled with a pleasant hum and soft lights.
