My brother priest and best friend, Monsignor Edward Puleo, struggled with pancreatic cancer for the past three years. Just a few months prior to his diagnosis he buried his elderly father as well as his only sibling. I was with him the day he was told by his doctor in 2021 that he had only three months to live. He immediately prayed that his dear mom, already advanced in years, would pass before him.
His prayer was answered on January 2, 2023. As for Monsignor Puleo, he fought hard to live every day to the fullest. I’ve never seen such willpower and inner strength than when I watched my friend each and every day for three years. That’s how long he lived before passing from this world to the next on October 25, 2024.
As a first-generation Italian-Sicilian American, Monsignor Puleo had a passion for many things (aside from the obvious), including electric trains and antique cars. His greatest passion, however, was his love for the Holy Family (Jesus, Mary and Joseph). Those who knew him best were not surprised to see one or more Nativity sets on display throughout the entire year in the rectory where he lived.
Parishioners seemed to know this, too, and many would give him Nativity scenes of various sizes as an addition to his collection. Almost daily he would say to me (half in jest, half in earnest) while pointing at a Manger scene: “Guarda. Che bello” which is translated: “Look. Isn’t it beautiful!” Each scene was different (one from the other) and yet the same. But each was absolutely “beautiful!”
Something similar actually occurs in Italy every Christmas season. The object is different in every church, but yet, the same. It’s the Nativity scene, the artistic re-creation of the first Christmas night, which Italians treasure.
One of Italy’s most famous saints, St. Francis of Assisi, is credited with starting the tradition nearly eight centuries ago. Italians have made it a high art form. In fact, Rome’s churches compete for the most elaborate Nativity scene, often with real waterfalls, sound and light shows, star studded skies, and moving figures. Church hopping to view the Nativity scenes is very much a part of the Christmas season.
Rome has its own Fifth Avenue – the Via Giulial, where all the merchants get together every year to plan a common theme for their window displays. On the Via Giulial, however, there are never any Santas or elves or red-nosed reindeers. The theme is always some national or regional tradition of the Nativity scene.
The most famous Nativity scene in Rome is in the ancient Basilica of Saints Cosmos and Damien – an intricate montage of hundreds of wood, porcelain and terra-cotta figures that are 50 feet long, 30 feet high and more than 20 feet deep. Constructed in the 1600’s by a team of noted artists, sculptors, and architects for the Bourbon King Charles III, the scene faithfully re-creates the customs and costumes of over 200 17th century Neapolitan figures.
Less than two blocks away is a full museum, displaying Nativity scenes from around the world. In it one can find figures of the Holy Family, shepherds, kings, angels, and animals in glass, porcelain, wood, seeds, stone, marzipan, terra-cotta, tin, paper, and ceramic. From Peru are tall, brightly colored terra-cotta figures in the hats and shawls of the Altiplano. From Mexico and Bolivia are figures of cut tin. From Africa is a scene of Jesus, Mary and Joseph with black features delicately carved in ebony. There are bamboo figures from Japan, seashell figures from the South Pacific, and creations of glued seeds from Thailand.
It is in the churches of Italy, however, that the Italians’ love of Nativity scenes becomes most evident. Many churches have volunteers who spend all year planning and building the Nativity scene including the street cleaners who build an elaborate scene in a small church a few blocks from St. Peter’s Square each year.
The scene usually fills a niche of one of the side altars of the church, and a steady procession of visitors stream by daily throughout the Christmas season. Popes often visit the street cleaners’ Nativity scene on the Feast of the Epiphany.
One of the most intriguing Nativity scenes is in the Jesuit Church of Saint Ignatius in the center of Rome. Miniature ships are depicted on a sea with gentle waves turned into whitecap breakers as they near the shore – a three-dimensional optical illusion. A five-minute sequence of lighting and sacred Christmas music, with a large rotating backdrop, changes the scene from day to night, makes an angel appear, announces the child’s birth, and brings the star of Bethlehem across the sky.
Through a trick of lighting against the backdrop, a volcano periodically erupts and its smoke appears across the scene and disappears. In the center, where shepherds make their way, a boy sits fishing from the edge of a bridge with his feet dangling over a stream of real water. In the foreground, a shepherd’s fire glows under a metal pot which emits a small, steady wisp of steam.
The hillsides are populated with shepherds and other rural folk, sheep, goats, dogs, miniature trees, and bushes, and the three kings and their entourage can be seen coming over the hills from afar. But, the focus of the whole montage, as with Nativity scenes everywhere, is the manger where the newborn Prince of Peace lays.
As we celebrate Christmas in this Year of Our Lord, 2024, I ask that you join me in praying for my friend, Monsignor Edward Puleo – that he may enjoy eternal life with the Prince of Peace he loved so dearly and whom we celebrate this Christmas and every moment of everyday throughout our lives.
Father Hillier serves as diocesan director, Office of Pontifical Mission Societies, the Office for Persons with Disabilities and Censor Luborum.