Three days ago, we attended a worship service at National Basilica, a Catholic church in Cartega, San Josè. Even though we went on Sunday, I have been reflecting on it ever since.
Before we went, I had to admit I was wondering how much I could get out of a service that was entirely spoken in Spanish (especially considering the most I got out of those six weeks of Spanish in middle school were "hola," "gracias," and the basic colors.) The second I saw the building, however, all worries disappeared. The church was a huge grey and white building with large columns, angel statues guarding the top, and wide open doors all the way around the building.
People poured from every door and out onto the courtyard in front of the church. We made our way over and stood in the entrance to the back of the church.
As stunning as the outside was, the inside was even more amazing. Every time I turned my head, I found twelve new intricate details to catch my attention. The upbeat modern music reflected the congregation that seemed to mostly consist of young families.
We stood in the back until the service before ours was over. We walked in to find pews as soon as other people started leaving, but the seats were already filling again. Our group ended up in two different pews.
Thanks to a little experience attending Catholic mass with my dad's family, I could tell what was going on during most of the service. In a way, hearing the Spanish-speaking voice over a microphone was soothing, even if I didn't know what he was saying. The church was so large, I could barely even see the priest, but this also gave me the ability to take in more and more details while Karla, one of our hosts, would occasionally point out certain aspects of the service.
One of the most touching points was towards the beginning of the service. We sat in a pew to the right of the center aisle. Karla nudged me and pointed to the aisle on our right. Dozens of people were on their knees, slowly making their way up the long aisle to the front of the chapel. I looked across the church to the aisle on the left, and saw even more people doing the same thing. I recognized this as an act of repentance, and it was amazing. These people, young and old, were demonstrating such a beautiful act of faith and love for God. It was so different from the religion I was brought up in, it really made an impact.
After the service, we headed outside and followed the crowd around to the back of the church, where a line was forming to tour certain artifacts related to the church and its history. According to the story, the church was built around a stone on which a statue was found by a young indian girl. After trying several times to take the statue home, it would always return to the stone on which she first found it. After the third try, she took the statue to a priest, who mostly ignored the story but kept the statue. The next day, the statue returned to its stone. The priest took it home again and locked it away, but the next day it was gone. Recognizing the supernatural qualities of the statue, he called other priests to discuss, and they decided that since the statue couldn't be moved, they would instead build a church around the statue.
The first thing we cane across were cabinets full of charms that were shaped like humans, animals, and various body parts. Each charm represented a person or animal who had been healed on the site of the church. For example, if the charm was a heart, the person had heart trouble that was healed. Again, this struck me because it seemed so different from the religion I know. There must have been thousands of charms, each representing a person who felt their life was changed thanks to the grace of God.
Another spot that stood out to me was a section of wall that had a small garden in front of it. The wall was in three layers, each one extending further than the last. Each layer had a different date, representing the years the church was remodeled. Every time, they would keep this section of the wall intact to show the various layers. The very last thing we came across was the original stone and statue, an amazing representation of the faith that this church was founded upon.
I never thought I would have gotten so much out of a service that I couldn't understand a word of. Instead, this experience was in one of the top five most amazing things I have ever witnessed. Part of my reasoning for coming to Costa Rica was to experience another culture and see a different way of life, and I achieved this the very first day here. I look forward to seeing what else I learn when our lectures start on Thursday!
Puravida!
Morgan
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