About Fame That Is Not Fleeting

“The three young men on the tour of the old Spanish Monastery had to be restrained from smoking—they were obviously crestfallen because the two pretty girls in the party showed not the least interest in their presence. Their masculinity seemed to have no appeal to the girls, but the celibacy and silence of the old building were like a provocative perfume…”

Graham Greene, Monsignor Quixote

What makes enduring fame?

According to the Oxford Dictionary, fame is the state of being known or talked about by many people, especially on account of notable achievements.

The dictionary gives this example: “Winning the Olympic title has brought her fame and fortune."

Jesse Owens, the African-American who won four gold medals in Berlin at the 1936 Olympic Games, standing in stark contrast to Hitler’s Aryan fantasies, was once famous. So was Bob Beamon. I remember him flying through the air like an angel, traveling an unfathomable distance in Mexico City in 1968 when he smashed the long-jump world record; today, no one remembers him. Wilt Chamberlin scored 100 points in an NBA game and averaged 50 points a game for a whole season; at one time considered one of the greats, he is now largely lost in time. Mohammed Ali and Michael Jordan, noted as the most recognized people on the planet during the height of their fame, are fading away, too.

So many athletes and celebrities of our modern, media-frenzied epoch are so well-known that it seems impossible that they could ever be forgotten. But they will be. The likes of Messi, George Clooney, and Tiger Woods one day will pass from our collective consciousness.

Yet, there is a tiny nun who died almost 450 years ago who still attracts throngs of people to see her.

Saint Teresa is one of the greatest saints of the Catholic Church. From the old walled city of Ávila, Spain, she is known for her deep mysticism, brilliant writings, and monastic entrepreneurship. She established an order of Discalced Carmelite Nuns organized around her strict beliefs; her enterprise continues to thrive. It is estimated that about 10,000 sisters, living in about 750 convents located in over 80 countries, still follow in her footsteps.

In May I followed her, too. I set out for Alba de Tormes, a small town of 5,000 people in remote western Spain. There were thousands of others there, too…

… including at least one sandwich-eating AC/DC fan!

And so why did almost 100,000 people, over a two-week period, come from all over the world to this little town to see the dead saint?

Reverence, fascination, hope, and perhaps some morbid curiosity. You see, the great saint’s body, said to have remained in the state of incorruptibility since her death over 400 years ago, was on display. That is to say, her mortal remains have not decayed as is normal when humans pass… or maybe I should say when normal humans die.

Saint Teresa died in 1582 at the age of sixty-seven, and she was buried at the Convento de la Anunciación in Alba de Tormes, Spain. Nine months after her death, her coffin was opened, and her body was found to be intact, with only her clothing having rotted. Before the body was re-interred, one of her hands was cut off, wrapped in a scarf, and sent to Ávila. The body was exhumed again in 1585, and once more she was found to have not decayed. This time an arm was removed and placed in the convent of Alba de Tormes. Poor Saint Teresa, what price she has paid for fame. Her body parts are here, there, and everywhere.

In Rome her right foot and a part of her jaw are kept. Journeying to Lisbon, you can find one of her hands. In Ronda, Spain, are her left eye and left hand (the latter was kept by Francisco Franco after Francoist troops captured it from Republican troops during the Spanish Civil War). After touring the Eiffel Tower, one may go to the Church of Our Lady of Loreto to inspect a finger. And in Alba de Tormes, in addition to her tomb, her left arm and heart are on display.

Her remains were last examined and shown in 1914, and this year they were on display again. During two weeks in May, almost 100,000 people solemnly filed past her body. The long-dead saint, who was revered not only by Franco but also by the likes of fashion designer Manolo Blahnik, continues to hold power over the thoughts and emotions of many.

Why?

First, it is because of her spiritual journey. She traveled closer to God than almost anyone ever has. Somerset Maugham called her book, The Life of Teresa of Jesus, “one of the great autobiographies of the world.”

Then there is the astonishingly strange phenomenon of corporeal incorruptibility. Incorruptibility is a Catholic and Orthodox belief that divine intervention allows some human bodies (specifically saints and the beatified) to completely or partially avoid the normal process of decomposition after death as a sign of their holiness.

I have seen this unusual—may I say somewhat creepy—occurrence before. In Paris, I saw the incorrupt body of Saint Catherine Labouré, and in the truly off-the-grid town of Ágreda, Spain, the incorrupt body of Maria of Ágreda lies.

But the display of Saint Teresa was a spectacle.

“It’s historic, as she has only been viewed by the public twice before since her death, and this is the longest she has ever been on display,” says Father Miguel Ángel González, the prior of the Discalced Carmelites of Salamanca, who are responsible for looking after the saint's remains, as he admired the queue of pilgrims that snaked down the street. “People come to receive Saint Teresa’s blessing,” he added.

Near the coffin, glass cases on permanent display contain a handless arm and a shriveled human heart. The phial for her heart is open because when they put it in a closed one, it burst the glass…

The words of Shakespeare’s Hamlet come to mind. In Act 1, Scene 5 of the play, after Hamlet and Horatio witness the ghost of his father, Hamlet says to his friend:

“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Indeed.

In the church I see a couple who, having reached the front of the queue, hold hands in prayer, while nearby, another woman silently weeps. Others wear sunglasses to hide their teary eyes.

Not everyone was sympathetic to the show, including the Bishop of nearby Salamanca. "It is not a good idea to display the body of Saint Teresa in this way," said Bishop Jose Luis Retana. "It only serves to encourage people's morbid curiosity."

Perhaps he is right. And it is said that Spain, like the rest of Western Europe, has become secularized. I am sure at one level that is true. It is not fashionable to follow the saints and miracles upon which much of the country’s history is built. Yet, quietly below the surface, I have met many, many people who are not so quick to give up what they believe… what they know to be true.

And so it is that the great saint of Avila’s hold on so many people will continue to endure. She will be revered long after Taylor Swift has been forgotten.

The idea of bodily incorruptibility is an alien concept; I can’t get my mind around it, and for me there is indeed a macabre element to it. In the end, I prefer to remember Saint Teresa in ecstasy, as Bernini sculpted her in 1652.

In the words of her books, the art about her, and in her body itself, she remains immortal.