Mission to Brazil: The churches and streets of Sao Paulo

In Sao Paulo I had a great opportunity to see two beautiful churches and familiarize myself with a slice of the busy city of over 10 million. The city is lined with wide parkways, congested superhighways, urban areas, and statue heavy green spaces. In contrast there are narrow one way streets and many non sequitur neighborhoods of mixed use buildings and varying facades.

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I walked into the Cathedral of Sao Paulo in the afternoon not aware that inside the light of day could be equal to the outside. The walls spired to reach for the heights of the ceiling, and to my own memory I can faintly remember the floor’s appearance. The designers and architects most certainly welcomed the sun as the nature light reflects through the arched windows and off the bright gray stone. The stain glass was crystalline with minimal color and design; poignant but airy.

It is a giant of a church without many opulent adornments. The intricate could only have resided in vain against the whole of this rising space, and that fact was well understood in its construction.

I walked around looking up with my mouth gaping at this amazing Cathedral. The history of the Cathedral starts about 100 years ago. The construction process began in 1913 and continued until 1967. In 2000 to 2002 the Cathedral was restored to the original beauty of its 1967 competition.

I walked out to see the square below and there was a great mix of those circulating on and below the steps. I scanned the view of the square; many others looked out with me. Most wore faded or threadbare clothes and seemed to stare as if projecting their inward thoughts below. Those in business suits cut across the plaza steadily, and small groups watched the preachers and street performers. A town car with government plates rushed a side mirrors width in front of me as I stepped onto the landing. It never slowed as it weaved through pedestrians on this closed street off street running from the Federal Court Building.

In Brazil I have the impression that right-of-way goes to the cars, and if a person is hit by a car it would be that persons fault.

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We moved northwesterly to the Monteiro De Sao Bento; a Benedictine monastery and school. I walked with Brother Gabriel leading the way most of the time. It was difficult to walk side by side, mostly due to the narrow sidewalks packed with people and stuff. I say “stuff” because it could be municipal items like light poles, phone booths, and over filled trash cans, which seemed to be more strategically placed to be in your way. The great diversity of obstacles was impressive from the produce and juice stands, trinket kiosks, wheel barrows, construction materials or debris, three wide conversations from store front to the street, wooden carts, and crates stacked to be loaded into buildings.

We were able to walk in the streets for a couple blocks due to a street protest. The clown dressed protesters walked in a flotilla with music playing as they performed amidst the stilt walkers. It was more like a circus and I never understood what was being protested. I asked Brother Gabriel and he said something to the effect, “I don’t know, they protest so many things.” In Brazil protests are common and can be absurd or benign, or impassionedly vocal or physical riotous.

It felt at times like total bedlam both on the streets and on the walkways. It was exhilarating to race from the Cathedral, in the center of the city, to the Monastery twenty hectic minutes away. Both churches were great towering structures that stood imposing against the modern commercial buildings.

I hadn’t thought about it until now, but I don’t think I could have chosen a greater juxtaposition. In the churches it was serene and peaceful. I could see some people in focused prayer with such heavy burdens that the marble floor they knelt on seemed to sag. On the street, the people focus on transporting themselves to their locations without being stopped by the many obstacles; which in a short time I understood completely.

In shadow of the Monastery I could see it was more than a church. It was a complex that occupied most of the city block, and its sizable presence defined the neighborhood.

Brazil is a culturally Catholic country since being colonized by Europeans who were tied to the Catholic Church. The people are active in varying degree in the church, from very devout to completely secular, weddings and funerals. There are other Christian religions here like the Baptists, and Protestants, but the Catholic Church is treaded into the fiber of the Brazil. The symbols, saints, and expressions are common. I hear on the street or in TV interviews the common expression, “Thanks be to God”, which seems to be more of a punctuation then a mindfulness of God.

We walked through the courtyard and to the left were groups of young children playing at recess. We came to the angled doors of the basilica. This entrance was designed to break the waves of sound on the streets in front. Ornately patterned stained glass darkened the nave and wood trimming the marble trapped the light that cut into the space. My eyes followed the stately arches and statues of the 12 disciples that pedestaled just above the heads of those walking beneath, and on down to the center aisle to the elevated floor holding the altar and a high lectern. Wood pews sat on the raises floor and faced the altar to its right, and a couple of balconies hovered above. It is where the monks would assembly to be separate for masses. I walked in enough to see the wide dimensions of the whole room. The hidden alcoves lit by dim lights and candles lined the walls; each a station of devotion to a Saint, Christ, or the Virgin Mary. I circled the swells of people in prayer that pressed against the backs of those closest to the statues. I questioned why some Saints ushered an impatient following and others waited to be recognized.

I recalled the Cathedral in which light echoed in the awesomeness of the space, but here the lack of illumination twinkled the ornate artistry of the paintings, the metal work, and wood work. I can say I felt peace without the grandness of rapture and took in that external peace. In some ways it felt much like wood paneled library.

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This experience called to mind something I say to my friend Mark, when we visited the Cathedral of St. Louis in New Orleans last year. I said:

All churches and holy places are created to glorify the presence of God and to inspire those in them to experience the spiritual in some way. A church for all its beauty and grandeur is built to show a gratitude to the almighty.

Although there is no church building that exceeds the beauty of one human being. All of us were given the gift of inspiration and carry it with us.

That being said, those who created these churches must have felt inspired themselves.