One step into any of Goa’s centuries-old churches, and you’re likely to be drawn instantly to their grand gilded altars, intricately carved pulpits, or glittering chandeliers. But beyond the visual opulence lies a nearly forgotten layer of the state’s Christian heritage—gravestones embedded in the church floors, often overlooked, hidden beneath rows of pews or tiled over in the name of renovation.
In earlier centuries, it was customary to bury the dead inside churches, with the positioning of graves closely linked to the social status of the deceased. Church interiors were divided into zones—Class I, II, and III—marking burial privileges, often determined by caste or social hierarchy. The closer one was buried to the altar, the higher their perceived standing in society. This practice was particularly significant among early neo-converts, who sought proximity to the altar as a symbol of spiritual and social elevation in their new faith. Clergy were accorded the highest honour, often buried within the sanctuary of the church itself.
Gravestones dating back to the 18th century and earlier were typically carved from Basalt, while those from the 19th and early 20th centuries used marble or granite. One of the most fascinating aspects of older Portuguese-era tombstones is their use of “Scriptio Continua”—a style of writing without spaces or punctuation, inherited from Ancient Greek and Latin traditions. It wasn’t until the 19th century that modern scripts, with spaces and punctuation, began replacing this archaic form.
The practice of burying the dead inside churches, however, was outlawed on September 20, 1833, with a royal decree mandating all parishes to build external cemeteries by September 21, 1835. By 1840, it became compulsory for all churches to construct cemeteries outside the church building but within church property. Even in these cemeteries, the class-based burial system persisted, often indicated by plaques bearing inscriptions like “Classe Um” (Class One).
Most graves were family graves, where multiple generations were buried in the same plot, with names added to the epitaph over time. While some epitaphs were poetic and prayerful, others simply noted the names of the deceased. Tombstones of high-ranking clergy were typically inscribed in Latin or Portuguese, with English appearing only in the late 20th century.
Latin abbreviations remain a common sight on many old graves. RIP or “Requiescat in Pace” (Rest in Peace) is perhaps the most recognisable, still used in Christian prayers today. Another frequent inscription is P.N. E. A.M., shorthand for “Pater Noster et Ave Maria”—a subtle request for visitors to recite the Lord’s Prayer and Hail Mary for the departed soul.
Unfortunately, many of these tombstones have been lost—either removed, damaged, or covered up during church renovations, erasing a vital aspect of Goa’s religious and social history. With each gravestone tiled over, a piece of the past quietly vanishes.
As churches continue to evolve as spaces of worship and tourism, there’s growing need to preserve these silent markers of history—etched in stone, embedded in faith, and rooted in the very floor beneath our feet. Regrettably, precious heritage like this is often conveniently destroyed in churches both across the state and around the world. It is crucial that custodians of monuments housing treasures like these, preserve it for the benefit of future generations.