Basilica of Bom Jesus

Stand still for a moment and look at the stone. It is a deep, rusty red, pitted with tiny holes like a sponge that has turned to rock. Run your eyes across the facade and you will see the texture everywhere. This is laterite, the iron-rich stone of the Goan coast. In the afternoon sun it glows almost the colour of dried chillies. Around you, the air is warm and heavy, and somewhere a crow is calling from the palms.

You are standing in front of the Basilica of Bom Jesus. The name is Portuguese, and it means Good Jesus, a reference to the infant Christ. This church was built by the Jesuits, the Catholic religious order founded in the sixteenth century. It was consecrated in 1605. At that time, Old Goa was not a quiet village of ruins and lawns. It was the capital of Portugal's Asian empire, a crowded port city of churches, warehouses and markets.

Here is the first surprise. The bare red stone you see was not meant to be seen. Like most churches in Goa, this building was once covered in white lime plaster. The other great churches of Old Goa still wear that white coat. At some point in the twentieth century, the plaster here was removed, and the facade was left exposed. So the basilica looks different from its neighbours, warmer and rougher. Many visitors assume this is the original look. It is not.

Now look up at the facade itself. It rises in three main levels, with columns and window frames in a classical style. At the very top, in the centre, find the monogram of the Jesuits. It is made of three letters, I, H and S, an abbreviation of the name of Jesus in Greek. You will see this emblem on Jesuit churches across the world, from Rome to Latin America. Here, it crowns a building on the western coast of India.

But people do not travel here only for the architecture. They come because of one man. His name was Francis Xavier. He was a Spanish missionary and one of the founding members of the Jesuit order. He arrived in Goa in 1542. From here he travelled across Asia, to southern India, to the islands of Southeast Asia, and to Japan. He died in 1552 on a small island off the coast of China, while waiting to enter the country.

What happened next is the heart of this place. His body was first buried on that island, then moved, and finally brought back to Goa in 1554. Accounts from the time describe the body as remarkably well preserved. For the faithful, this was a sign of holiness. Francis Xavier was declared a saint in 1622. Today, his remains rest inside this basilica, and they draw pilgrims from India and far beyond.

Step inside, and let your eyes adjust. After the bright courtyard, the interior feels cool and dim. The nave is a single long hall, simple in plan. The walls are plain, but the far end shines. The main altar is covered in gilded wood, a tall wall of gold. At its centre stands a statue of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits. Above him, look for the infant Jesus, the figure who gives the church its name.

Now walk toward the side chapel on the right. This is where the saint's tomb stands. Here is the second surprise. The tomb was not made in Goa, or even in India. It was a gift from the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo the Third, of the Medici family in Florence. A Florentine sculptor, Giovanni Battista Foggini, designed it. It was carved in Italy at the end of the seventeenth century, then shipped in pieces across the oceans and assembled here.

Look closely at the stone. The base is made of coloured Italian marble and jasper, in deep reds, greens and creams. Bronze panels show scenes from the saint's life and travels. On top of the tomb sits a silver casket, and inside it lie his remains. The contrast is striking. Italian luxury from a Florentine workshop, resting inside a church of rough Goan laterite. Two worlds meet in this one small chapel.

The saint's body has also gathered stories over the centuries. Some parts were removed as relics. The right forearm, for example, was sent to the main Jesuit church in Rome in the early seventeenth century. There are also popular tales. According to one well-known legend, a devout woman bit off one of the saint's toes to keep as a relic. Locals still repeat this story, but treat it as folklore rather than recorded history.

About once every ten years, the remains are brought out for a public exposition. During these weeks, hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come to Old Goa. Every year, the saint's feast day falls on the third of December, and the grounds fill with families, candles and flower sellers. On an ordinary day, it is much quieter. You might hear only footsteps on the floor, a whispered prayer, and the ceiling fans turning overhead.

Before you leave, notice the long building attached to the church. This was the Professed House, the residence of the Jesuit priests. It is older than the basilica itself. In 1986, this church became part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, together with the other churches and convents of Old Goa. Across the road you can see the white bulk of the cathedral. Together, these buildings are what remain of a city that was once among the largest in Asia.

Now step back out into the light. Turn and look at the facade one more time. The red stone holds the heat of the day, and in the monsoon it darkens almost to brown. Listen to the traffic on the road, the voices of school groups, the rustle of the palms. Four centuries ago, this courtyard sat at the centre of an empire. Today it is a quiet lawn under the sky... and the saint is still here, inside, behind those doors.