Getting in the spirit

Happy Feast of the Immaculate Conception!

There’s nothing like walking into a beautiful church for making you feel holy.  After weeks of attending the less than inspiring, nearly nondenominational church-in-the-round on base (I think they move the Mary statue out for the Protestant services, but the puny stations of the cross are permanently attached – they are small enough not to be noticed when the chapel is used for events like retirement ceremonies), we went to the cathedral of Guam, Dulce Nombre de Maria, for the feast of the Immaculate Conception.  It’s a major feast day here, and most people on the island had the day off. Schools were out. Only the heathen federal government didn’t shut down.

Each parish here has a big celebration for its patron saint day, usually a novena of rosaries and a procession, followed by a huge dinner.  Since this was the feast for the Cathedral, it was an especially big celebration.  I’m kicking myself for not making the effort to get out to at least one night of the novena. Nor did we make it to the procession earlier in the day, which apparently is hugely attended.  I let the boys go to soccer practice instead.  Next year…

We did do some coloring pages during the day – our typical feast day craft - and made meringues for our white supper of flounder and lumpia and white sweet potatoes.  (A funny combination, because I need to go to the grocery.)

But it wasn’t until we walked into the Cathedral, through the lingering crowds outside in the plaza, which is where nearly all of Guam’s Christmas lights are located, that I finally felt the spirit of peace descend. By most standards, the Cathedral isn’t huge, but it is spacious inside, with a pretty coffered wooden ceiling.

When we entered, we naturally followed the crowd and joined the line to venerate the statue of Santa Marian Kamalen, which translates roughly as “Saint Mary of the Barracks" or "the shed.”  I had to look up her story when we got home, even though we have a votive candle with her image on it as part of our typhoon supplies.  She is about three hundred years old, and about three feet high with real hair and a fancy gold crown. There are several stories about her origin – one is that a scantily-clad fisherman saw her on the bottom of the ocean floor, but when he dove to retrieve her, she kept receding, until he went home and put on his Sunday clothes, and then he could pick her up.  She was taken to the Spanish presidio and kept in the barracks there until the church was completed, hence the name. She has survived fires and earthquakes, bombings and raids, and at least three thefts in the last 50 years.  Most recently in 1992, she was missing for two months until a parks and rec. worker saw her waving in some bushes not far from the Cathedral. A recent restorer believes she was carved in the Philippines prior to 1690, and was attached to a ship as protectress. (see guampedia for more.)

Photos from the Pacific Daily News

The younger kids are always apprehensive about venerating statues, not from any theological quibbles, but I think because they don’t want to kiss something in public.  Fortunately for them, the statue was high on her rose-bedecked processional, so only really tall people could have kissed her. A number of women rubbed her with their rosaries and missals and handkerchiefs; all who approached had genuine reverence.

The spirit invaded. I couldn’t help but feel in love with everything. I loved the plump lady in her silk muumuu, the teen-aged boys wearing red ties who stood as attendants to the statue, the couple with the barefooted blond toddler and cranky bald baby who sat next to us, the gifted cantors, who passed their dark-headed baby back and forth as they sang with gusto in beautiful voices that filled the cathedral with joy. I loved the homily by the priest who began by reading his script in a formal tone about Mary’s sinlessness, quoting from the catechism, and then reverted to a casual tone that revealed his devotion when he compared her to the tabernacle, the holy of holies. And everyone loved the choir from Palau, an impressive group of talent from a tiny island. They represented the Micronesian Islands at the Madrid World Youth Day.

We capped off the evening with a visit to the Capuchin Friary’s Christmas village display.  The Friary is a well-cared for building at the top of a hill overlooking the sea, and the monks there have provided a space for some of their friends to set up an elaborate miniature winter wonderland. Several electric train sets wind through three rooms where little houses and carousels and nativity sets and holiday statues, including chubby caroling monks, are arranged on carved white foam covered in cotton to look like snow. The kids were charmed, although this display paled in comparison to similar layouts we’ve seen in other places. They enjoyed looking for the incongruous parts, like outsized statues of St. Francis in front of all the churches, or people with broken legs, or anachronistic matchbox cars. They were delighted further with the dessert table at the end of the show, although they reached for the Little Debbies over the homemade coconut empanadas, rice cakes (which do have a funny taste) and the gelatinous pink mochi.

again from the PDN

We drove home filled with a Christmasy spirit, the most festive we’ve felt since lighting the first Advent candle.  Since temperatures are still in the 80s, and we’re not planning travels home to visit family, Christmas still seems far away. But over the next couple of weeks, more activities are on the calendar: a Christmas party and serving dinner at the orphanage this weekend, a couple band concerts next week, an ornament exchange, a cookie exchange, caroling, lessons and carols at the church, other parties. There will be plenty of opportunities to feel celebratory; I hope this evening's reflective celebration set the tone for the rest of the season.