SFX's corpse is legendarily known as "the incorruptible body of Francis Xavier" because it has resisted decay for hundreds of years. Until recently, they hauled it out every year in a glass coffin for everyone to touch and kiss (the coffin, not the body). Lately there are rumors that the miracle may be over, because the body is starting to fall apart. My friend wasn't entirely sure they'd bring it out this year, but I was crossing my fingers.
When we got to the Basilica, there was a huge tent outside with thousands of chairs set up for the mass. A glittery sign said "St. Francis Xavier spreads the Jesus Glow" in English and Konkani (the regional language of Goa). Next to this was a long maze of ropes, like you'd see in front of a ride at Disneyland. Luckily there were only a few hundred people in line because it was day 7 of the feast. (All the locals go before day 9, when things really get crazy.)
Every single person there was dressed in their nicest party clothes, except me. Foolishly, I'd worn khakis and a T-shirt. I looked as if I'd just spent an hour riding a scooter through the dusty countryside. The fact that I really had was small consolation amidst the gold jewelry and sequined dresses of Catholic pageantry.
We shuffled into the church and past the altar and before I knew it, we'd reached the body of SFX! The church had compromised on the decay issue and displayed him in an ornate wooden coffin with glass windows on a platform above our heads. He was very clearly in there, but you could really only see his brown shriveled hands, feet and profile. The pilgrims touched and kissed the base of the platform and dropped marigold flower leis into baskets placed at regular intervals. I touched the platform too, but I wasn't really sure what to say/think/pray.
No matter, the tide of bodies quickly shuffled us out the door and into seats for mass.
The whole sermon was in Konkani, so I just stood up and sat down when everyone else did. At one point, the priest yelled out "Money! Mobile! Motorcycle!" and I knew he must be warning against the growing materialism of the younger generations. The rest of the time, I just let the unfamiliar words wash over me and prayed silent Tiny Tim prayers.
"God bless us every one!"
After mass, we headed to a nearby museum where Portuguese colonists had stashed all the "heathen" Hindu statues they'd removed when they were building Christian churches. Then we hit the carnival midway for lunch, beer, and popsicles. I contemplated riding my first Indian Ferris wheel, but I never saw anyone else on it the whole time I was there. If the Indians - who shun seat belts and helmets and maximum capacity laws - don't trust their carnivals rides, I sure as heck won't.
I didn't think the day could get much better, but my friend had saved the best surprise for last. We went back to the Basilica and walked through a courtyard where hundreds of pilgrims were camped out for the duration of the novenas, and we got in line for something called "The Sound and Light Gallery, A Pilgrimmage of the Heart."
We had to wait 15 minutes for an English-language version, for which we were the only audience. It turned out to be an animatronic Chuck E. Cheese-style show on the life of Jesus!
I was strictly forbidden to take photos - even of the sign outside - so you'll have to take my word for how awesome it was. We walked from room to room watching robotic John the Baptists and Pontius Pilates acting out the familiar story, simultaneously aided and hindered by our thickly accented tour guide.
"Behold chew slum!"
What did she say? Oh! Jerusalem!
When Jesus was transformed on the mount, Indian pop music started playing and a strobe light went off over his head. Then multi-colored disco lights turned on over OUR heads, to demonstrate God's love reaching us through Jesus. (And that God's love is very like a Bombay nightclub!)
At one point, we entered a small fiberglass cave with a life-sized Jesus sitting lotus-style in one corner. "Pray with Jesus!" our guide commanded. My friend and I bowed our heads obediently, but started fidgeting after a few minutes.
It was a relief when the guide led us away, even though we were obviously headed to the crucifixion. I never thought anything could top seeing the possibly miraculous corpse of a saint, but when the animatronic Jesus died on the cross, the room went dark and the floor literally shook under our feet! I sincerely wish I could have teleported every one of you there with me.
Don't worry, I'd send you back home before I get on the 12-hour bus to Mangalore tomorrow. I'll be in an ashram in Mysore doing yoga from December 8 through the 15, with some long bus rides before and after, so my blogging time might be limited for awhile. May the awesome disco strobe-light of God's love sustain you until we meet again.
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