Here lie the Lutherans

18-20 Abril 2014 – Semana Santa
Valparaíso y Viña del Mar

On top of Cerro Panteón in Valpo, there are three cemeteries, and on Good Friday we visited two of them. 

The view from atop Cerro Panteón

Dueling cementerios

On one side of the street is Cementerio #1 (there is also a Cementerio #2 in the neighborhood, but it was closed). Unlike the often rainbow-tastic Punta Arenas cemetery, Cementerio #1 is pretty austere; white stone or cement is the prevailing material, with splashes of stained glass or flowers here and there.

 

 

Random aside: Angel statues on or near graves confuse me a little, theologically speaking. Are they supposed to represent loved ones as newly-minted angels? Or angels that come and accompany souls to heaven? Or maybe they are really heavy, really expensive postcards from the dearly departed's new home? Hi everyone, meeting some great folks up here! This is my buddy Gabe. Whatever the original reason for their presence, thanks to Doctor Who their new purpose is to freak me out.

Doesn't appear to be weeping, but best not to blink anyway

It being Holy Week, this broken tombstone caught my eye. Keep in mind that this grave is above ground, more like a vault, and that's the entrance.

Has anyone checked for Emilia or Saturnino lately...?

In fact, there were a number of broken or half-missing stones. We don't seem to be in "the dead shall be raised triumphant" times yet, so that leaves three other possibilities: 1) There are a lot of earthquakes here and stuff breaks; 2) Vampires; or 3) Zombies. It could also be a combination of these options.

Across the street from Cementerio #1 is Cementerio de Disidentes, which translates just how it sounds.

What sort of dissidents, you ask? Political activists? Authors? Revolutionaries? Nope.

It's full of Lutherans.

There are also Episcopalians, Anglicans, maybe even a Calvinist or two. It turns out that what makes up the "Pantheon" on Cerro Panteón are Catholics and all sorts of Protestants buried on the same hill, with only a few 12-foot walls and iron gates between them.

Just look at these dissident graves, denying papal infallibility all over the place

Aside from the general air of rebellion, Cementerio de Disidentes was pretty similar to its Catholic neighbor, with lots of somber white stone monuments in crowded but orderly rows. I did notice fewer statues of Mary and more bible verses, or inscriptions in general. I guess we dissidents are wordier.

This dissident was wounded at Waterloo

I thought this perceived chasm between the Catholics and "Dissidents" was kind of funny in an historically enlightening way– for about two days. Actually closer to two hours. That's when I went to Good Friday mass at the church next to our house: Iglesia Capuchino, which is a Franciscan parish (not, as we first thought from hearing the name, a coffee shop).

I was looking forward to the service because it was Viernes Santo, Good Friday, and I appreciate a little gravity and liturgy, especially during Holy Week. At mass they circled the sanctuary and read something for each Station of the Cross, then the priest spoke briefly, and then everyone lined up to go kiss a statue of Christ on the cross. Lutheran Flare-up #1: I ain't kissing no statue. After that was Communion, which I skipped out of respect for Catholic beliefs. Lutheran Flare-up #2: Who are they to withhold Communion from a believer, on this of all days? On the plus side, we sang the Spanish Catholic version of "Were You There," which was a Good Friday staple for me growing up, and I got a little moment to reminisce.

On Easter, we had a double-header: first we visited the ultra-Catholic-sounding Our Lady of Agony before heading to my regular church, which is Assemblies of God. It was Easter, the most significant day of the Christian calendar for any flavor of Christianity. Surely we would see a good Latin American celebration! Well, maybe they were celebrating on the inside. The mass seemed very sedate to me; it was hard to tell it was Easter except for hearing "resucitado" more often than usual.

Then came time for no-Communion-for-you, which irked me even more the second time (Lutheran Flare-up #3). After Communion, the priest took the cup and bread and locked it up in a little golden safe behind the altar, and at this point I was quietly losing my Lutheran cool (Lutheran Flare-up #4). People! This whole week celebrates Christ's sacrifice and victory. The temple curtain was torn in two to remove the separation between God and humanity, not so we could upgrade to a shiny new vault! LUTHERAN SMASH!  It turns out I am more dissident than I realized.

Yesterday, two weeks later, I finally took Communion at my church, where all who believe are welcome to partake, and where a little girl finished off the extra bread afterward. That suits my rebel heart just fine.