Faithfully Fatima
Dave Says:
A country as devout as Portugal wouldn’t be as devout as Portugal (95% Catholic) without its own site of holy pilgramage. So the story goes, in 1917 in the small village of Fatima, the Virgin Mary appeared to three children in an oak tree. I speak not of children in a oak tree but of the dear virgin. Why she chose an oak tree, I’m not sure. As a fully grown adult, even standing at ground level and even without the celestial light, chorus of angels and the satisfiying glow of a well polished halo it’s not hard to make yourself seen to three small children. However, the oak tree turns out to be an essential prop in our story because her repeated visitations on the 13th of the five sucessive months, to an ever increasing crowd, would have required ever increasing elevation to make herself seen to the 70,000 amassed for her final visit. Had she not first appeared in a tree to three small people the miracle would have become a little cumbersome as she clambored for more height. Perhaps a small stool for her next visit, followed by a mid-sized tea chest for her third, then a humble hay cart, and finally the stool, on the tea chest on the hay cart. At this point the good Virgin would have probably given up and wished she had just levitated in the first place. But, the tree it was and there the tree (or one that looks just like it) stands to this very day.
The tree (or the one that looks just like it) is no longer surrounded by the scorched hillsides of central Portugal but sits slap bang in the middle of a giant ashphalt parking lot. This is not a lot for cars though, it is a massive parking lot of religion where every year the million or so devotees who make their way to Fatima park themselves and their beliefs on this giant concrete concourse to stare at the tree (or the one that looks just like it). The Catholic church has since built a very Roman looking basilica which, unfortunately, due to its dominating architecture, brand new unweathered white granite and the sheer size needed to compete with the concrete concourse, ends up looking more third reich than vatican two.
Back to Mary and 70,000. So, there she is, up a tree, speaking to these three kids in a very ghost of Christmas to come manner concerning a few important events that were to occur sometime in the future. I’m not sure how quiet and attentive 70,000 people can be when watching a miracle but it appears that something convieniently distracted them at the decisive moment because not one the faithful can attest to actually seeing or hearing the divine lady. However, if proof of this miracle is required (and why should it, it’s a miracle after all) all present will bare witness to the fact it stopped raining and the sun came out - apparently quite a strange occurance in spring in Europe. Apparently, after the climatatic miracles were over, the blind could then see, the lame could then walk and those with mild gastric disorders gave a hearty belch and declared themselves cured. The poor kids were then taken into the protective custody of the Roman Catholic church who, after much “protective” interogation, decided Mary had made three prophecees. The first foretelling WWII, the second warning of the rise of Russia and communism and third predicting the assination of a pope. The church, ever protective of its flock, did not tell the world what these secrets were until after the events had occured; the last one revealed in 2000 claiming the failed assination attempt on John Paul II in 1981 was proof positive, if proof of your faith should be required.
Never let it be said the Catholics don’t understand the value of a dollar. Surrounding Fatima’s basilica is a courtyard of copious Catholic commercialism where trinkets of Christian kitch await the holy annointing of your Euro. Shops and market stalls overflow with effigies of the Virgin Mary ranging in cost, quality and function. Should you need divine intervention whilst driving, a small dashboard likeness of our lady will see you home. Should your technique require a small miracle on the dance floor a glow-in-the-dark Mary or neon-flashing Disco Mary may be just the ticket. But, at the end of day, only a Yoda sized likeness of the most virtuous mother in history will suffice. Prices range from one euro through to thousands and begs the following questions: Should one spend comenserate to one’s income? Is God going to be angry if you’re a cheapskate tightwad when buying your religious pariphynalia and does the Lord look kindly on hagaling over images of his one and only son? However, the best souviners to buy for your loved ones, the gifts that keep on giving, must be the wax body parts. It’s voodoo in reverse. Instead of taking a likeness of the ear, breast, leg, stomach, foot, hand or head and inserting pins to inflict pain you can light the pre-inserted wick and melt the apendage at the basilica to encourage speedy healing. There are enough body parts on sale of varying sizes to construct your very own waxy disproportioned human - perhaps a handy preventative melting for what ever may ail you in the future.
One the three children to witness the start of this religious theme park is still alive. She became a nun and her picture is everywhere along with creepy deathmask like artist renditions of the other two who died whilst still children. If her whole life had not been altered by the consequences of what could have easily been a childhood prank (along the lines of the British children who took pictures of the fairies at the end of their garden) I wonder what she might have thought about all this. Even if she truly believes what she saw, the commercialism and the obscene grandure of the basilica (couldn’t all of that money have been spent on helping the devout) mocks her belief and casts a church sanctioned opportunist shadow over what may have been a pure enlightenment. It appears I don’t have to mock the religious in Fatima, they seem to do a fine job all by themselves.