The Great Places – San Fernando Cathedral, San Antonio

Ever since the Church’s first bishops gathered their priests and people around them for the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, Christians have thought of the cathedral – the church in which the “cathedra,” the bishop’s chair, sits – as the center of a given city. In San Antonio, that’s literally true. For in front of the altar at San Fernando Cathedral is a bronze marker, indicating the position of the door of the original colonial church from which the cathedral grew. From that point, the settlement that became San Antonio was laid out, such that everything in town was measured by its distance from the church. San Fernando cathedral is the center of San Antonio, physically as well as historically and spiritually.

San Fernando was the first parish church in Texas, and it’s seen a lot of history since its founding in 1731. Over the ensuing two hundred seventy-five years, five flags have flown from what is now the oldest standing structure in the state: those of Spain, Mexico, the Republic of Texas, the United States, and the Confederate States of America. Canary Island emigres were the first parishioners, laying the church’s cornerstone in 1738. When the Alamo ceased to be a church in 1793, its people became parishioners of San Fernando.

In 1831, Jim Bowie married Ursula de Veramendi in San Fernando; five years later, after General Santa Ana had raised the “No Quarter” flag from the church’s tower, Bowie died in the defense of the Alamo; and a hundred years after that, in 1936, the remains of Bowie, Davy Crockett, William Travis, and other Texas heroes were found beneath the sanctuary of the cathedral and re-interred in a marble sarcophagus which stands in the cathedral today. San Fernando became a cathedral in 1874, when the Diocese of San Antonio was erected. President Lyndon Johnson attended Good Friday services at San Fernando in 1966, and Pope John Paul II visited the cathedral in 1987. A major restoration was undertaken in 2001-2003.

The nave of today’s San Fernando is built out from the colonial church, which now forms a kind of grand apse for the entire cathedral. In the colonial part of the building, and thanks to the 2003 restoration, pilgrims and visitors can now find three stunning “retablos,” masterpieces of carving and gilding created to replace the original retablos lost in an 1828 fire.

The central retablo (a Mexican form of wooden reredos) is 24 by 16 feet, gilded in 24-carat gold, and dedicated to “Jesus Christ, Word and Sacrament;” it houses both the tabernacle and statues of the four evangelists. The retablos to its right and left honor the patronesses of the settlers and soldiers who were San Fernando’s first congregants. Thus the retablo to the right is dedicated to La Virgen de la Candelaria (Our Lady of Candlemas), to whom the Canary Island emigres had a particular devotion. The left retablo is that of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and houses a 1770 painting of the Patroness of the Americas. Done in an 18th century style of wood-carving and gilding, these three retablos are among the world’s finest contemporary examples of this art form.

For all its history, though, San Fernando should not be conflated with nearby historical sites like the four San Antonio Missions, found along the Mission Trail south of the city. Interesting (and touching) as these relics of the first American evangelization are, they speak of the past. As Archbishop José Gomez and cathedral rector Father David Garcia told me, San Fernando takes that past and brings it alive in the present. Five thousand people worship at San Fernando every weekend. Nine hundred baptisms, more than a hundred weddings, and just as many funerals are celebrated there each year. Every day, visitors come in the hundreds to admire the architecture and the retablos, or to honor the remains of the heroes of the Alamo. Many, one suspects, are moved to prayer by the cathedral’s beauty.

As well they might. For here, we touch the religious heart of the fastest-growing Catholic population in America.

COMING UP: Did Christians ban the Games? Tales, myths and other fun facts about the ancient Olympics

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The 2020 Summer Olympics began less than a week ago, and as is usually the case, there’s been enough stunning athleticism, shocking upsets and yes, even a little bit of drama on display to keep the water cooler chatter abuzz until at least the 2022 games.

At their best, the Olympic games bridge cultural divides and unite countries around the world as the greatest living athletes around the globe compete for the coveted gold medal in their respective events. There’s a spirit of global camaraderie that welcomely comes about during every Olympiad; whether watching the Games at home with the family or going to a local bar to cheer on your favorite country, the Olympics bring people together in a way that most other sporting events do not.

Another astounding thing about the Olympics is how they’ve endured over the millennia. Indeed, they provide a special glimpse into the history of the world and those common qualities of humanity that will never die; namely, the need for both unitive, universal community and friendly but fierce competition.

The first recorded Olympic games took place in 776 B.C., though some historians speculate that they could have began as early as the 10th century B.C. The games were held every four years in Olympia to honor the greek god Zeus as one of four Panhellenic festivals, this one coinciding with the second full moon following the summer solstice, usually at the end of July or early August. The Olympics became so significant that the term Olympiad was used to mark a year the games took place, and became a common unit of historical time measurement.

Now, the ancient world wasn’t exactly known for its amicability or even peacefulness, as indicated by the countless wars and power usurpations that took place throughout its history. However, Olympic festivals were marked by a truce among the Greeks called ekecheiria, which roughly means “holding of hands.” This ensured safe travels for athletes and spectators as they made their way to the festival and was a common basis for peace among the Greeks. That the Olympic games could get even the constantly feuding Greeks to lay down their arms and come together in a spirit of solidarity speaks to their significance in ancient history.

Early Olympic events included the footrace, wrestling, the long jump, the javelin throw, the discus throw and boxing. Of course, it’s nigh impossible to read about the ancient Olympics and not come across epic tales of chariot racing, an event which was briefly banned early on but was reinstated by the first century B.C. and drew the interest of several key Roman figures (more on that later).

By the fifth century B.C., athletes from all over the Greek-speaking world came to Olympia for the games. The footrace, also called the Stade or Stadion, was considered the most prestigious event, and is where the english word “stadium” is derived from. Stade was a unit of measurement in ancient Greece which modern historians say is the rough equivalent to 600 feet or 200 yards, though the actual length has been a subject of debate for many years. Either way, it represents the length which runners in the Stadion ran to prove themselves as the fastest sprinters in the ancient world.

Interestingly, very little record about the Olympics games during the time of Christ exists. History tells us that the Roman emperor Tiberius, who was emperor during Christ’s life, won the chariot races during the 194th Olympiad in 4 B.C. In 17 A.D., the popular Roman general Germanicus, who was Tiberius’ adopted son and the future father of the third Roman Emperor Caligula, won the chariot races in 17 A.D., presumably around the time Christ was a teenager.

About those chariot races: they were known to attract elite political figures, some of whom won based on true skill, and others who only wanted the appearance of winning to further exert their power and status. During the 211th Olympiad, Emperor Nero, known for his fierce persecution of Christians and rather narcissistic personality, forcibly moved the Olympic games set to take place in 65 A.D. to 67 A.D. so he could compete while on a tour of Greece. He participated in the chariot races (with six more horses than the other competitors), and declared himself the greatest Olympic victor of all time, though historical eyewitness accounts tell a different story. Nero actually nearly died after a severe wreck, but Nero being Nero, he was still declared the winner.

Thankfully, Nero’s title as an Olympic victor and the Olympiad he “won,” which did not adhere to the established chronology of the games, were subsequently stricken from the official Olympic records after his death.

The Olympics grew over the course of 1,200 years until 393 A.D., when Emperor Theodosius I banned all Pagan festivals from the Roman emperor after Christianity became adopted as the state religion. Popular culture and history has long maintained this story of Christianity being to blame for the halt of the Olympic games. However, in recent years, some historians have disputed this account, saying that it was not for religious reasons but rather economic reasons that the games ended when they did. In fact, even after Theodosius’ death, there are still records of Olympic games taking place up until the fifth century. As the administration of Roman Empire evolved, the Olympics could no longer be sponsored by civil funds and instead became sponsored more and more by rich elites of the time. Simply put, the games became too expensive, and no one wanted to pay for them anymore.

The Olympics did not make a return for 1,500 years, until the Athens Olympics in 1896. Over the last 125 years since their reinstatement, the Games have become an integral piece of modern culture and a remnant of ancient history that was revived to great avail. As the Olympics in Tokyo continue over the next week and athletes compete for the gold, the words of St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians serve as a pertinent reminder of how the spirit of an Olympian imitates closely that of a Christian:

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (1 Cor 9:24-27).

So let the Games continue! And may the race be run not for a perishable prize, but an imperishable one.

Featured photo: Met Museum, Terracotta Panathenaic prize amphora (jar), ca. 510 B.C. Attributed to the Leagros Group.