A Vibrant, Living Spirituality in San Juan de Chamula

Written and submitted by: Alfredo Winters, June 2011

When the indigenous peoples in America were forced by the Spanish to convert to Catholicism, many groups merged their traditional beliefs into the new religion, in effect co-opting it.

Recently we visited the little town of San Juan de Chamula and saw first hand what that means. Chamula is an indigenous Mayan pueblo about 10 kilometers outside San Cristobal de las Casas. The town is in the autonomous region of Chiapas, self governing and outside federal jurisdiction. Outwardly, it looks like many other small rural towns, except for the abundance of tourists.

Rural Chiapas is traditional and conservative and most people completely identify themselves as Catholic. If a member of the pueblo either stops believing or converts to another faith, they are driven out of the community. There is a barrio on the edge of San Cristobal inhabited by Mayan Presbyterians who were driven from their homes.

The people of Chamula are fiercely protective of their faith. Taking pictures of the people or inside the church is absolutely forbidden, as we were reminded many times. And we were watched carefully to make sure we complied. I was surprised to learn that there is no priest in the village, that the community has complete control of their faith and practices. Once inside the sanctuary, it was clear why.

From the outside, the church looks like any number of white 16th century Mexican village churches, except maybe for the entry portal, painted in vivid purple and green, and decorated with Mayan symbols. Stepping inside, it is unlike any church I have ever been in.

The sanctuary is dim, with only a few small windows and no electric lights, but the space is filled with candle light and people. This was on a Thursday afternoon. I was told that it's full everyday except Wednesdays, when because of superstition, it's usually empty.

There are no pews or chairs in the sanctuary. Both sides are lined with many glass cabinets containing a myriad of saints, all nicely dressed and labeled. In front of the saints are altar tables covered with lighted candles. The floor in front of the altars is covered with pine needles, which makes the stone tile floor quite slippery. Filling the center of the sanctuary, random groups of people sit on the floor in prayer, kneeling in front of rows of colored tapers that they have stuck to the floor with hot wax. It's like looking at a sea of flickering points of light. One group of women have a live chicken next to them that will be sacrificed by having it's neck broken in such a way that there is no blood. If blood shows, the sacrifice has not been accepted and another chicken will have to be offered.

There is a curandero in most of the groups who cures the sick by means of prayers, cleansings with pine boughs and the burning of copal and candles. All around the church, there are groups of village men scraping melted wax off the floor, sweeping up the dirt and used pine needles, mopping the floor clean, and laying down new needles in preparation for more groups of supplicants.

Like all of us, I have been in many churches over the years. I have appreciated the magnificence and power of St. Peter's. I have been awed by the soaring perfection and grace of Chartres. I have been charmed by the simplicity of country chapels. But these feelings have all been about the buildings, which are essentially piles of stone. This is the first time that I have experienced a Christian church that felt sacred and alive with spirituality. The Maya refer to it as a "living church" and that was my experience.

Author: Alfredo Winters, THOTH member since 2006