Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South AmericaRay, George Whitfield
Religion
Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South America
Ray, George Whitfield
Ray, George Whitfield, 1868- -- Travel -- South America; South America -- Description and travel
Next day the man was quietly carried away to the little forest clearing
reserved for the departed, where a few wooden crosses lift their heads
among the tangled growth. Some of these crosses have four rudely carved
letters on them, which you decipher as I. N. R. I. The Indian cannot
tell you their meaning, but he knows they have something to do with his
new religion.
As far as I could ascertain, the departed had no relatives. One after
another had been taken from him, and now he had gone, for "when he is
forsaken, withered and shaken, what can an old man do but die?"--it is
the end of all flesh. Poor man! Had he been able to retain even a spark
of life until Holy Week, he might then have been saved from purgatory.
Rome teaches that on two days in the year--Holy Thursday and Corpus
Christi--the gates of heaven are unguarded, because, they say, _God is
dead_. All people who die on those days go straight to heaven, however
bad they may have been! At no other time is that gate open, and every
soul must pass through the torments of purgatory.
A missionary in Oruru wrote: "The Thursday and Friday of so-called Holy
Week, when Christ's image lay in a coffin and was carried through the
streets, _God being dead_, was the time for robberies, and some one
came to steal from us, but only got about fifty dollars' worth of
building material. Holy Week terminates with the 'Saturday of Glory,'
when spirits are drunk till there is not a dram left in the
drink-shops, which frequently bear such names as 'The Saviour of the
World,' 'The Grace of God,' 'The Fountain of Our Lady,' etc. The poor
deluded Romanists have a holiday on that day over the tragic end of
Judas. A life-size representation of the betrayer is suspended high in
the air in front of the cafés. At ten a.m. the church bells begin to
ring, and this is the signal for lighting the fuse. Then, with a flash
and a bang, every vestige of the effigy has disappeared! At night, if
the town is large enough to afford a theatre, the crowds wend their way
thither. This place of very questionable amusement will often bear the
high-sounding name, _Theatre of the Holy Ghost!_"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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