Taking a Knee

Religion and art continue to be bound together in our culture. Some of the greatest works of art are huge canvases of religious figures and some of the greatest churches are made such by their elaborate frescoes and architecture. Basilica de San Antonio de la Florida is no different. The small Chapel, situated on a surprisingly low-traffic street given its prominence, lies next to the Rio Manzanares in West Madrid. Inside this delicate and quaint chapel, built in the late 1790s, are the remains of the infamous Spanish painter, Francisco de Goya. This chapel stands as a truly fitting resting place for the master considering that possibly his greatest work towers over his tomb. This great work, an elaborate series of frescoes depicting the Miracle of St. Anthony (my grandfather's namesake and my middle name) steals the muscle function from one's face as jaw drops and eyes widen. For all of the masterpieces in Madrid's numerous museums, this church displays only Goya's fresco and it need display nothing more. To sit on the pew at the base of the alter and simply gaze upward serves as a reconciliation not only with god, but with humanity. One can sit and ponder all of life's questions from here and seemingly have the answers. The legend of St. Anthony where he raises a man from the dead to acquit his father of the man's murder depicts many of life key themes; a son's love for his father, the lengths we would go to for love and family, the corruption of the justice system, and how belief results in accomplishment of the impossible. I knelt on my way out for two reasons: one, to pay homage to the great spiritual presence of the cathedral and wish my loved ones good tidings, and two, to recoup after beholding such magnificence.

We walked out of the chapel a little lighter, and as I looked at down at my watch, though time certainly seemed an irrelevant concept at this point, I realized that we had some time to kill before Alvaro met us for dinner.

This time translated into a hike up the mountain to the centuries old Templo de Debod. This Egyptian temple, which happens to be older than Christ, was gifted to Spain for their patronage in a temple restoration initiative in Egypt. Moreover, Egyptians transported the temple to Madrid brick by brick. This temple also showcases some of the best views of Palacio Real in specific and Madrid in general that one could ever see.

Rounding out this day of contemplation, spirituality, and awe, we hiked backed to town and met Alvaro for dinner. We ate a fine roast chicken dinner at Casa Mingo, the Asturian cider house, and rode back into Sol like champions of the night. With an extra pep in my step, I thought of the impending San Fermin festival.