The Basilica of Bom Jesus

 Ben Antao

Yesterday was the feast day of St. Francis Xavier, and naturally I was wondering what it might be like in Old Goa at the Basilica of Bom Jesus. I was thinking of sending to TGF the reminiscence that I had recorded in my self-published memoir Images of Goa, but dropped the idea as I was hurting from a nagging pain in the back.

However, this morning (6:30 a.m. in Toronto as I am writing this) I received a private communication from a Goan in Panjim about how he and his wife and two kids stood in line yesterday at the famed basilica to receive umaum (kiss) of the casket of the universally venerated saint. His message, plus the fact the pain in my back has subsided, has encouraged me to compose this piece.


I quote from my book:

"A visit to the shrine can be a religious as well as an edifying experience as Joe discovered during another Exposition in November 1964. Because the ambience of Old Goa has that extraordinary quality of making a person come closer to the spirit of God, Joe decided to make a confession in the basilica in the presence of the exposed casket.

"It was around eleven in the morning on a weekday and the basilica was empty save for a couple of visitors. Joe entered the church and sat down in a pew. Directly across to his right was a confessional booth where a priest was sitting. Seeing that there was no one making a confession, he walked towards the booth and knelt down and said, 'I want to make a confession.'

"Immediately the priest who appeared to be in his sixties turned his gray-haired head to his left and, looking directly at Joe through the latticed screen, replied in English, 'You can't make a confession, you are not prepared.'

"Joe was stunned for an indefinite second. Then he managed to say, 'But I am prepared.' "The priest now looking straight towards the pews insisted, 'No, you are not prepared.'

"Not knowing what to say now and overtaken by the suddenness of the unexpected, Joe stared through the screen.

"'I saw you come into the church just now and sit down,' the priest said by way of elaboration, still looking ahead. 'And then, you come here,' he said turning his head towards Joe. 'How can you come to confession just like that?'

"Joe, sensing rejection and disappointment, kept his mouth shut.

"'Go now and prepare yourself,' the priest advised in a tone of upbraiding and finality.

"Joe rose from the kneeler and tiptoed out of the basilica by the main portal as if he had intruded into a holy place. His senses were temporarily numb as he felt a strange sensation of spiritual defeat. Five minutes earlier, his spirit was edified by St. Francis Xavier. As he took the carreira back to Panjim, a 15-minute ride, he stared blankly at the open fields in a desperate effort to recover from the spiritual letdown. In Panjim he walked into his favorite bar and ordered a double gin and soda."

End of quote.

'Joe' is the persona I used in my memoir because the third-person narrative gave me the freedom to move in and out of the character's mind.

I was working for the Navhind Times at that time and had covered the Exposition that opened in the last week of November. Every day during that novena week I would go to Old Goa in quest of human interest stories. Boy, what a human interest story I had that day! But I didn't write it. Instead, I went to Bombay to see Pope Paul VI who was coming to India to inaugurate the 38th International Eucharistic Congress in that city.

Most of you on this forum would know what happened afterwards. I did not return to Goa. A few months later I got hired as a reporter by The Indian Express. After a year I got lucky to be selected from about 100 candidates from western India for a year's journalism scholarship granted by the World Press Institute based at Macalester College, St. Paul, Minn. After a year in the U.S., I came to Canada in 1967, where I have made my home since.

I got married in 1969 and took my Italian-Canadian wife and 9-month-old son Martin to Goa in December 1973. We visited the basilica and I met the priest who had denied me the confession. He was Monsignor Agapito Lourenco, rector of the basilica. He was inside the church that day. I introduced myself and the family. Seeing that I was a journalist working for The Catholic Register weekly in Toronto, he asked me if I could do him a favor--raise some funds for an old clergy home that he was building in Porvorim.

I told him I'd try my best. Upon returning to Toronto, I was able to raise some money and sent him a draft for $1,000 Canadian.

I visited Goa again in December 1984, this time only with my son. The Exposition was on, but at the Se Cathedral. I was astonished to see the changes. The whole place looked like a bazaar - noisy, dirty, and crowded. The churches had been turned into curiosity shops, with merchants inside and out selling tacky merchandise of dubious value.

I mentioned this fact to Lambert Mascarenhas, who was my editor at the Navhind Times in 1963 and then editor of Goa Today.

"No, no, no," he said. "You don't understand at all. It's tourism, you see. Goa is a tourist paradise now. Millions of visitors come here every year and have a good time. They have nothing but praise for it. And you come back and criticize it! What do you know? I live and work here. Don't you tell me about Goa!" Then he regarded me with a twist of his upper lip and a flare of his dark nostrils; both actions were designed to communicate his contempt.

I got the message. My ear heard the familiar, past resonance of Lambert's voice, a tone calculated to reject and discount anybody's opinion save his own.

"I'm not criticizing," I said. "Just wanted to state my observation. In the basilica I didn't find that aura of prayerful sanctity as in the past. The reverence has disappeared. I didn't see any Catholic guides there either. Whatever happened to all the Catholics? It's as if the Church has abandoned the monuments to the government."

Lambert was clearly agitated now and stood up from behind his clean desk. "Let me tell you something. You come from Canada and expect the place to be the same as when you left it? What's the matter with you? What's wrong if the churches are attracting tourists? Goa has made tremendous progress since liberation. Just look around. New roads, bridges, hotels on beaches, electricity in the villages! The place is bustling with development, with mind-boggling opportunities."

I could envision the scene at Old Goa yesterday, judging from the description contained in the private message I received today. I'll always remember Old Goa with fondness, especially on December 3, and the basilica where I met my spiritual Waterloo.



Ben Antao
Dec 04 2002
Toronto, Canada

Cecil Pinto: Last evening in Old Goa

from St. Francis Xavier    http://www.colaco.net/1/sfx.htm

Francisco de Xavier was canonized in 1622, along with his mentor Ignacio de Loyola.

Today, the unpreserved but as-yet-undisintegrated body of St. Francisco lies in a wooden coffin inside a silver casket in the Basilica de Bom Jesus  (pic. right) in Old Goa. It can be seen in the chapel, as one turns right, at the main altar of the basilica. The casket ( pic. left ) has a glass window through which, the head is clearly seen. There have been numerous expositions and millions of people of all faiths and countries have seen the body. The body has gradually lost some of its moisture and future expositions ( below right ) have been restricted. Many who visit the Basilica of Bom Jesus and the Se Cathedral across the street are overcome by the deep  spirituality of the place.

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