Superstition and Religion

We were walking across the Charles Bridge on a crisp but sunny morning in Prague.

I was reading my guidebook as we sauntered, trying to learn about the statues we were passing and the history of the centuries-old structure. Much of the bronze we saw was worn away from the touch of so many pilgrims.

We passed a certain statue of a sainted priest from the 14th century. He is known for his piety in the face of threats from the king, who drowned him off this bridge. I read aloud from my book, "Devout pilgrims - from Mexico and Moravia alike - touch the engraving to make a wish come true. You get only one chance in life for this wish, so think carefully before you touch the saint." I thought about what my wish should be for a second and then skipped up to the engraving to seal the deal.

I've never had a problem with wish-making before. I know the "Star light, star bright" rhyme by heart, make a careful decision before I blow out my birthday candles, and toss coins into fountains. But something about the way that cold bronze felt to my hand and the image of the cross above me sent chills across my body. I instantly regretted my carefree decision to make a wish here. I'm a Christian, and the way I see it, Christianity is about actions like feeding the hungry, spreading truth, or treating others as well as oneself. It's not about mandatory pilgrimages and doesn't promote many "If, then" rules. It is certainly not about rewards for pilgrimages or making wishes at the right place at the right time.

I sheepishly turned back to Chris, trying to brush off my yucky feeling, praying repentant prayers in my head. Chris noticed my expression and asked, "Um, what did you wish for?"

You want to know, too? You're lucky, because I'm actually going to tell you because it's part of this story, even though it's embarrassing and even a little creepy. It's related to that part in The Lord of the Rings when Theoden is mourning after the funeral of his son. He says with conviction, "No parent should have to bury their child." So, morbid Holly strikes again, and instead of making a generic wish for something like snow on Christmas or peace in the Middle East, I wished that Daisy would outlive me.

"I wished that D would die before me," I shrugged, rolling my eyes. "Wait! I mean the other way around!" "Really - I mean - I think I did! Oh my gosh, what if I said it the wrong way in my wish!"

And there it is: the ugliness of wishes and magic and myth in its entirety. For an instant, I imagined my life unfolding as a modern Greek tragedy because of my stupid, potentially misspoken wish. The good news is that there is no rule in my religion like "A wish made can't be reversed." With full force, I realized the goodness of what the Christian faith looks like, especially in relation to the ancient superstitions: the spirit of the law instead of the letter of the law; the assurance that God knows what we say even when the don't have the words; the doctrine that the Holy Spirit is continually with us and that we don't just rely on point-to-point encounters; the equality of all people regardless of circumstance... These things seem human and sane. Just the sort of God that I would want to have out there working with us.

Obviously, this inner turmoil affected the way I saw Prague and the other "religious" sightseeing we did. I developed a distaste for what religion in the Czech Republic has become. (Interestingly, although it shares a border with Poland, the most religious country in Europe, the Czech Republic is the least.)

An example of other Christian draws in the city: Loreta Church

This old church has been "a hit with pilgrims for centuries" because of its Santa Casa (Holy House), considered to be part of Mary's home in Nazareth. It's also the traditional departure point for the long Santiago hike. We didn't pay the 5 Euros to go in. 

One more illustration and then I'll quit my topic. Inside the Carmelite Church of St. Mary the Victorious, there's a special doll. Behold Prague's "most worshiped treasure," "a focus of worship and miracle tales in Prague and Spanish-speaking countries."

This little "Infant of Prague" has a collection of miniature robes made for him by famous people like Maria Theresa of the Hapsburg empire. Apparently, some South Americans travel to Prague just to see this one statue. It must truly be important to these pilgrims, just like I travel to see things that are important to me.

Religion in Prague, at least on the tourist track, seems to maintain a medieval flavor of superstition that surprised me. It threw into relief my own thoughts about prayer, and re-understanding religious convictions is always a good thing. Travel's fun.

Czech Beer

It's the land of the original Pilsner and the original Budweiser. We had heard a lot about the greatness of Czech beer and were excited to try it. Thus, we slotted our first lunch at the Strahov Monastery's brewery up near Prague's castle.

They serve a handful of varieties of beer, all unpasteurized and unfiltered. We got to try an IPA, an amber, and a dark beer called St. Norbert. 

This was, without question, the best beer we've ever tasted. If we go back to Prague, we'll probably make a point to come here every day.

Since we were eating and some customers were just grabbing a drink, and since Daisy is a proven conversation starter, we got to know quite a few neighbors at these tables. One couple came from Vienna, where the man was a professor of German literature. Another couple came from London. This man kept exclaiming "Well done! Well DONE!" when he heard about Chris' position at the MPI. Another couple that we met came from Illinois, and they suggested that it was easier traveling with a 2-year-old than with a teenager. I can see their point.

During the rest of the trip, we checked off the rest of the beers on our list...

...all of which were fantastic.

In my German guidebook that I borrowed from the library, I found a list describing the beers. It said that Branik brewery actually uses the river water of the Moldau in its beers. We couldn't find it on tap, so settled for a bottle. Unfortunately, it was so disappointing that I couldn't finish it. Now I know why it's not on tap anywhere!

Prague: Day 1

We had a nice time in Prague at the end of October. Not only did we never feel nervous about our wallets (probably because we avoided the Metro), but we were entranced by the thousands of small, beautiful artistic accents, liked the ritzy Viennese vibe, and appreciated the lower Eastern European prices.

Right after we arrived at 7 AM from a loud and clunky short night's sleep on the train, we stopped at an amazing cafe for breakfast. It was my first time having the elongated Czech rolls, generously topped with caraway and salt. They're eaten with all toppings, even jams. I loved the savory/sweet combination.

Then, we checked into our nice little hotel. It shared a quiet square with a yellow church. There were three things that, besides a perfectly comfortable stay, would make us want to stay here again: 1) They have a bird named Beppa or something. Daisy loved him. 2) They have a bottle of champagne sitting out on the breakfast buffet. 3) One night, I was looking for Daisy's PJ's and eventually found them, folded and with one button done, under her pillow in the pack-n-play. What a sweet maid.

Brief walk from Hotel Hastal into the old town

In the center of the old square, there's a large statue of Jan Hus, the Christian reformer and martyr. His conviction after studying the Bible was that all believers should be able to take communion, but at that time, only the religious leaders partook. He was burned at this spot one hundred years before Martin Luther succeeded in defying the powerful Church.

Tyn Church was Catholic before Hus, but the Hussites managed to maintain ownership of the building for two hundred years after his death. In 1620, the Hapsburg (Catholic) victory over the Czechs meant that the symbolic golden chalice once marking the building was melted down and created into the Virgin Mary still shining over the now empty niche on Tyn Church.

The mechanically advanced astronomical clock performs a little top-of-the-hour show. Like in Krakow, a bugler joins in with a call from the top of the clock's tower. 

Prague's Astronomical Clock

Charles Bridge, another famous landmark, is from the 14th century, and until the 1800's it was the only bridge over the Vlatava (Moldau) river. 

Apparently, Dixieland on the bridge is a "thing"

The waters of the Moldau, made famous by
Smetana's Ma Vlast

We stepped inside St. Nicholas church in the Little Quarter.

Chris and sleeping Daisy

Even though we were exhausted, we decided to walk up to the top of the hill to see an old monastery. It took forever, but the trees glowed, the views were fabulous, and we had a special time in quiet nature.

Charles Bridge, Tyn Church, etc. Prague is known as
The City of a Thousand Spires for a reason

We had lunch at the monastery and toured Prague Castle, but I'll write about those experiences later. After that busy first day, we paused to watch the sun set by the banks of the Moldau before finding dinner and collapsing in bed. End of day 1.