Jonathan Rodrigues,TNN | Aug 10, 2014, 01.53 AM IST
Ever
woke up on a lazy Sunday morning wishing that church was just a few
steps away and that you could just crawl out of bed and head for mass?
Most Catholics would admit to this slothful desire but others plead
non-guilty as they had another option — the late evening mass at the
chapel attached to their neighbour's home. For many it turned into a
habit that they hardly visited the parish church, while for others it
was a place of bonding that fostered brotherhood and nurtured their
faith.
Some say it was a matter of prestige for a family to have a chapel in their house, while others downplay it as a class factor, suggesting that the worship place was more of a necessity than a sign of vanity. "I am not a church historian but I wouldn't say that it was a prestige factor or a sign of vanity as such, but yes, only those who could afford built chapels in their homes. But more than a symbolism of class or status, the primary reason for erecting a chapel was to cater to the needs of the priests in these houses," says Fr Joaquim Loiola Pereira, secretary to the archbishop of Goa and Daman.
He further explains, "Earlier, there were surplus priests and those who were not designated to a particular church or mission were forced to stay at home. They needed a place to celebrate mass everyday and therefore many of these families built chapels. Then again, not every family could afford a chapel. Those belonging to higher class and owning a lot of property, and who could fund and maintain the place of worship, went on to build chapels."
Those who grew up along the countryside will agree that Mass at the local chapel was a never-ending service — characterized by an elderly priest dragging his sermon into the sunset, as the villagers prayed earnestly to their patron saints. "Chapels provided easy access to elderly retired priests who would otherwise have to travel long distances to get to the village church. Their lengthy homilies had a distinct charm. It helped you unwind and soothed your nerve after a tiring week. Even if you were not listening to them, it just felt safe and secure to be there," says Zezito Costa from Utorda, whose ancestors built the Our Lady of Piety chapel in the village of Utorda.
Octagenarian Naomi Barreto, patroness of the Holy Family chapel in Cansaulim, relates her experience: "Participating in mass at these local chapels served as a community building activity, as it kept the neighbourhood strong and cohesive. The casual feeling of the prayer place being in your neighbourhood also allowed you to let go of your inhibitions and partake in the service more generously. It provided a platform for many timid and non-confident readers to take up the task of reading the scriptures during mass, something they didn't have the courage to do at the parish church."
Elders in many villages helplessly admit that these community prayer services that they would excitedly look forward to during their hay days are slowly turning extinct. "As little kids, I remember we would run to be the first at the chapel so that we could get our hands on the fire crackers. We also wanted to be altar boys and ring the bell, so sometimes we would delegate duties among ourselves. I wouldn't deny it that some of us skipped morning mass at church because this cute little girl always attended the evening Mass at the chapel," confesses Carl Dias, who recollects that the local chapel that he frequented in Raia was a place for sharing and fellowship. "Neighbours learned who was sick, pregnant or married. No one was spared, whether you liked it or not. Everyone cared."
Nixon Carvalho has another candid moment to share: "I remember the time when I rang the chapel bell the wrong way. I was granted the opportunity to ring the chapel bell and as I did I saw the bunch of villagers running towards the chapel waving their arms in desperation. Only after a sound scolding I realized that the beats were wrong and I actually alarmed the people about a death in the village rather than reminding them about Mass."
The local chapels served as makeshift parishes when the village church was either struck by some tragedy or closed for renovation. Some public chapels were intentionally built to reduce the burden on the village parish church due to the growing population, but some evolved from mere prayer rooms or private oratories. A few others were simple private crosses erected in the compound that eventually transformed to public chapels. Some private chapels have mass every Sunday and on other obligatory days, while others open up the premises only during the feast — that attracts devotees from all over. No matter how far they have shifted, these loyalists will always come back to the family or call up their neighbours on the feast day. "I have been lucky that the feast of St Anthony at our ward chapel always happens when I am back home after a voyage at sea. The chapel feast is always exciting, but nowadays I can't see any youngsters around. Everyone has either migrated abroad for jobs or studies. Feast day in the 20th century was my favourite party as cousins would come over for the weekend to partake in a huge family reunion," says Thomas Vaz from Calangute.
Some say it was a matter of prestige for a family to have a chapel in their house, while others downplay it as a class factor, suggesting that the worship place was more of a necessity than a sign of vanity. "I am not a church historian but I wouldn't say that it was a prestige factor or a sign of vanity as such, but yes, only those who could afford built chapels in their homes. But more than a symbolism of class or status, the primary reason for erecting a chapel was to cater to the needs of the priests in these houses," says Fr Joaquim Loiola Pereira, secretary to the archbishop of Goa and Daman.
He further explains, "Earlier, there were surplus priests and those who were not designated to a particular church or mission were forced to stay at home. They needed a place to celebrate mass everyday and therefore many of these families built chapels. Then again, not every family could afford a chapel. Those belonging to higher class and owning a lot of property, and who could fund and maintain the place of worship, went on to build chapels."
Those who grew up along the countryside will agree that Mass at the local chapel was a never-ending service — characterized by an elderly priest dragging his sermon into the sunset, as the villagers prayed earnestly to their patron saints. "Chapels provided easy access to elderly retired priests who would otherwise have to travel long distances to get to the village church. Their lengthy homilies had a distinct charm. It helped you unwind and soothed your nerve after a tiring week. Even if you were not listening to them, it just felt safe and secure to be there," says Zezito Costa from Utorda, whose ancestors built the Our Lady of Piety chapel in the village of Utorda.
Octagenarian Naomi Barreto, patroness of the Holy Family chapel in Cansaulim, relates her experience: "Participating in mass at these local chapels served as a community building activity, as it kept the neighbourhood strong and cohesive. The casual feeling of the prayer place being in your neighbourhood also allowed you to let go of your inhibitions and partake in the service more generously. It provided a platform for many timid and non-confident readers to take up the task of reading the scriptures during mass, something they didn't have the courage to do at the parish church."
Elders in many villages helplessly admit that these community prayer services that they would excitedly look forward to during their hay days are slowly turning extinct. "As little kids, I remember we would run to be the first at the chapel so that we could get our hands on the fire crackers. We also wanted to be altar boys and ring the bell, so sometimes we would delegate duties among ourselves. I wouldn't deny it that some of us skipped morning mass at church because this cute little girl always attended the evening Mass at the chapel," confesses Carl Dias, who recollects that the local chapel that he frequented in Raia was a place for sharing and fellowship. "Neighbours learned who was sick, pregnant or married. No one was spared, whether you liked it or not. Everyone cared."
Nixon Carvalho has another candid moment to share: "I remember the time when I rang the chapel bell the wrong way. I was granted the opportunity to ring the chapel bell and as I did I saw the bunch of villagers running towards the chapel waving their arms in desperation. Only after a sound scolding I realized that the beats were wrong and I actually alarmed the people about a death in the village rather than reminding them about Mass."
The local chapels served as makeshift parishes when the village church was either struck by some tragedy or closed for renovation. Some public chapels were intentionally built to reduce the burden on the village parish church due to the growing population, but some evolved from mere prayer rooms or private oratories. A few others were simple private crosses erected in the compound that eventually transformed to public chapels. Some private chapels have mass every Sunday and on other obligatory days, while others open up the premises only during the feast — that attracts devotees from all over. No matter how far they have shifted, these loyalists will always come back to the family or call up their neighbours on the feast day. "I have been lucky that the feast of St Anthony at our ward chapel always happens when I am back home after a voyage at sea. The chapel feast is always exciting, but nowadays I can't see any youngsters around. Everyone has either migrated abroad for jobs or studies. Feast day in the 20th century was my favourite party as cousins would come over for the weekend to partake in a huge family reunion," says Thomas Vaz from Calangute.
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/goa/The-chapel-next-door-attitude-working-for-Catholics/articleshow/39968309.cms
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