Visitors packed Mission San Juan Bautista on Saturday to watch
what was, everyone agreed, a beautiful sunrise.
HOLLISTER
Visitors packed Mission San Juan Bautista on Saturday to watch what was, everyone agreed, a beautiful sunrise.
“Words can’t convey it,” said Scotts Valley resident Brian Strehlke.
Winter solstice at the mission has become a local tradition, and Saturday’s gathering was one of the most popular in the event’s 10-year history. Most waited for the sunrise in the relative warmth of the chapel, but there were plenty of visitors outside, enduring icy weather to catch a glimpse of the sun.
“This is actually pretty warm,” said Mike Whitcancock, a visitor from Salt Lake City.
But Whitcancock is a self-described devotee of the great outdoors. When asked if his family planned to join him in the cold, Whitcancock laughed and said, “That’s not going to happen.”
It’s not just the sunrise that brought in the visitors. The mission is also home to a phenomenon that Father Edward Fitz-Henry said he rediscovered in 1997.
During one early-morning visit to the chapel, Fitz-Henry noticed that sunlight streamed in through the mission window, hitting a location near the mission tabernacle. As the days passed, the priest continued to check back, and he saw the beam of sunlight move closer and closer to the tabernacle.
On the winter solstice – the shortest day of the year – the beam struck the tabernacle dead-on.
“I thought, ‘Wow, this is a really awesome thing,'” Fitz-Henry said.
The phenomenon was likely part of the mission designers’ original plans, but it was eventually forgotten until the recent rediscovery, Fitz-Henry said. The timing is symbolic, he said, because the days start getting longer after the solstice, embodying the Christian belief that Jesus Christ “brings the light.”
Word of the event has been spreading. Most recently, an article in the Observer, a Catholic newspaper, helped draw Saturday’s big crowds.
David Thorp, a San Juan Bautista resident, recalled attending “the first awakening” 10 years ago.
“It belonged to us in 1997,” Thorp said. “Now it belongs to the peninsula.”
Fitz-Henry said he’s grateful the weather cooperated, which doesn’t always happen. For example, it rained in 2005, and the clouds obscured the sun in 2006. But the skies were clear Saturday, and the light appeared right on cue.
As the beam moved down the wall and struck the tabernacle, visitors lined up to enjoy a literal moment in the sun.
“I love it,” Fitz-Henry said afterward. “It was a beautiful day.”
