Relics.

The churchs of Italy all usually have at least one relic in them. This may be a sliver from the cross upon which Christ was cruxified, it could also be something as simple as a cloth that touched a Saint's foot. Where relics become interesting is when they begin to include body parts. In San Domenico in Siena, one may view the head of St. Catherine, the patron saint of both Siena and the Dominicans. The head sits in a gaudy glass case, which nearly resembles a lantern with the grey-brown head taking the place of a candle. The head is well mumified and the case is placed just far enough to make one ever so slighly strain to try and see its details. It has some sort of cloth upon its hollow skull. They also have her finger in a different glass case, this one being much closer to the viewer.

What purpose does a relic serve in a religion where the body is only the clothing of the spirit. In the middle ages, the break from paganism to Christianity was muddled and far less definite than people believe. People were baptized, but they continued to practice many of their previous pagan customs by transforming the local gods into saints that could still be venerated. But what modern purpose do relics serve? They remind us of the miraculous some might say. They form a tie between the legendary miracles of the past and the physical world that each of us so intimately knowns. I reject this view. The finger of St. Catherine tells me nothing about miracles. I maintain that what the finger does is form a link between the holy and the trivial. The monks of San Domenico cannot possibly believe that Catherine's head lantern beautifies her head. Instead what it cleverly does through contrast is to emphasize the imperfection of the head. It does not verify the miraculous by sanctifying matter, but rather it corrupts the sanctified and reminds us that even a saint ought to take better care of their finger nails.