Critical Incident

The Capuchin Crypt Museum is part of a small weekend endeavor that Jackson, Chris and I undertook. It had seemed like we had heard someone mention the Bone Church every day of the trip. We looked up pictures online to see if it would be worth the entry fee, and we decided on the spot that it was well worth the walk and the euros. I remembered hearing someone say that there were around 4000 bones that made up the shrines in the crypt. Nothing could have prepared me for the somber and desolate feelings I experienced in the crypt.

The assistants at the desk were fairly rude when we asked about getting into the church, and they were more interested in their own conversations than allowing us to enter. They also did not appreciate when we jokingly asked if we were qualified as big enough to be considered a group for the discounted entry price. After their irritated response, we were given passage where there were small exhibits that we were not expecting. There were pieces that belonged to the early monks and original remnants from biblical stories.

While we were passing through the small exhibits, there was a tour group that entered the church. They were speaking English, but they were trying to be quiet so as not to disturb anyone else. They were standing in front of a couple exhibits. Most of the plaques were written in Italian, so we were not likely to receive enlightenment on what they were. We finished the short walk through the exhibits, and we were finally at the shrines we had traveled to see.

The shrines were a shocking site. When I walked down the stairs my world became silent. I was entranced in the horrifying spectacle that was a magnificent assembly of human bones. The most interesting fact of the shrines was that each one was dedicated to certain bones. The crypts dedicated to specific bones were the Crypt of Skulls, the Crypt of Pelvises, the Crypt of Leg Bones and Thigh Bones, and the Crypt of the Three Skeletons.

The Crypt of the Three Skeletons had a plaque with something along the lines of, “What you are, we used to be. What we are, you will be,” written on it. The crypt itself had one central skeleton holding a scythe in one hand and scales in the other. To me, it was representing death and judgement of life. Upon seeing this grim image, I became aware of how I live my life; the events that led me to become who I am as well as how I treat and view those around me and myself.

The harrowing sights in the crypt also made me realize that after I die, I will no longer matter. I am left hoping that my actions while I live can lead to a better world for those who live after me. When I entered the church, I was not expecting to experience a shift in my world view; I expected to see human bones in person. The way these people were moved and dismembered to become part of an exhibit is both morbid and beautiful in a sense.

The bones in the crypts all used to belong to someone. Initially, when I saw these bones, I wondered how their owners would feel knowing that pieces of their bodies have been repurposed into a form of macabre art. I do not believe that they would appreciate their bodies being split apart in this manner.