Iglesia San Francisco de Asis

I was baptized in this beautiful old church in 1956. I make it a point to go visit when we go to the island. I was able to see the entry in their old books with my parents signature. It’s like time has stops whenever I walk in to pray and meditate. All the complications and conflicts disappear when I am in His presence at this old church. Now we are also blessed to have a Pope who has taken the name of this Saint. Take a moment if your in el Viejo San Juan and go in and visit

A quiet morning in Old San Juan wouldn’t be complete without some time spent in reflection. I don’t speak Spanish that well and I am not Catholic, but as I walked down Cll SF, I noticed a small courtyard. Thinking that’s all it was, I walked up the few brick steps and noticed that it was a plaza leading into an old (OLD!) church. The outer façade has been worn by sun, weather and time but that added to its charm for me. Again, I was presented with the wondrous reminder of just how much older PR is than anything I encounter in my routine day-​to-​day in Chicago.
Walking inside the sanctuary, I was struck by the tiny, yet sturdy wooden pews. I could tell that these pews hadn’t changed in a very long time. They were small and narrowly constructed — much more apt to a long ago time before everything and everyone was super-​sized. Or, maybe that’s just my mainland bias. And, old church ladies seem to have the ability to navigate any sanctuary, so there’s that. Facing front, the altar is relatively simple. There’s not an over-​adornment of gold or marble. There’s just frescos, mosiacs and crucifix. To the side are large open-​air walls (cut outs) that, at night, are shuttered with storm doors. While I was there, it let in glorious natural light and fresh air. The balcony was, again, simple. A painting, woodwork and molding are all I really noticed.
In this simplicity lies the ability to openly, honestly and without distraction communicate with God. I move fast. I tend to be on the go more than I am not. A lot of times, I will look back on a week and a calendar full of appointments, deadlines, overlapped schedules and commitments and wonder just what I really did in that time. (In passing thoughts/​moments), I realize that I don’t take a lot of time for myself. It’s a problem. Here, in this quiet, old and humble church, I was able to take some time (15 minutes? Half hour? An hour?) to spend in quiet reflection and open communion. To be able to let go (and let God) for a little while and leave problems/​fears/​frustrations/​etc. behind was a refreshment I hadn’t experienced in much too long a time. Sometimes it’s hard to acknowledge that you’re so very very thirsty.