Last of two parts
I FORGOT to explain in my last column what I observed at 3 p.m. of Good Friday at the San Sebastian Cathedral in Tarlac City, where some priests and members of the extraordinary ministers of the Holy Communion, made some smoke as they moved the crucifix violently to signify the death of Jesus. I was told by my colleague, Dr. Lars Raymund Ubaldo, a scholar of Cordillera culture, that this was very similar to what the people of the north do immediately after the death of a person, where the latter is sat in the death chair (sangadi or sangachil), and is smoked. Then the body is wiped down to transfer their power, or “potencia,” to the cloth. Which is also similar to when people wipe the image of the Jesus Nazareno, believing that they are transferring healing powers and graces to the towel. In anthropology, this is called the syncretism of folk beliefs with Catholic rituals, which we term folk Catholicism, which is what makes Filipino Catholicism an enduring faith in the Philippines.
When I went out of the cathedral for the procession after the Good Friday rites, I could still see a group of penitents lying prostrate in front of the church. I had thought for years that they would already be done before 3 p.m. following the time of Jesus’ suffering, but apparently there are still people who carry crosses or flagellate themselves. According to anthropologist Fernando Nakpil Zialcita, this also came from the way warriors mourn a dead “datu,” where they encase and bind their bodies very tightly with rattan.
I have been to the Good Friday procession of Makati, where they set up complete tableaus of all the apostles and each stage of the passion of Christ. The Spaniards used processions during the colonial period as a way to evangelize the people who could not read Spanish, let alone allow them to read the Bible. Our city’s procession is more modest, which included Señor Pacencia (Lord of Patience seated after the scourging), Señor Nazareno (Jesus falls on his knees while carrying the cross), Jesus carrying the cross with Our Lady of Sorrows, another Mater Dolorosa, St. Mary Magdalene, St. John the Evangelist, the Pieta (Jesus carried by his mother Mary after crucifixion) and a beautifully designed carroza for the crucifixion by a young camarero from a prominent Tarlaqueño family, Josh Lugar. Some of the families have been taking care of these Lenten images for generations and take great pains to decorate their carrozas as a form of “bayanihan”; they even have shirts representing their families and images.
The highlight of the procession, of course, was the dead Christ, which in this procession was times two, an ornate Santo Entierro encased in a beautiful carroza, and the image which was brought down from the cross carried by the “apostles” and which the Bishop Roberto Calara Mallari, D.D. accompanied. When the procession around the población ended, this was enshrined for the Easter Vigil as the adoration of the cross continued. The senior parochial vicar, Father Obet Cabrera, introduced me to the bishop who invited me to dinner with the priests. I was so blessed.
Despite the early call time, on Easter Sunday, I decided to wake up early and for the first time join my parents, Vilma and Charles, after many years to go to the Cathedral for my first traditional “Salubong.” This was special for me because they were the first who taught me not only to fear God but also to have faith in Him. When I was a young boy, they brought me to the San Sebastian Cathedral in Tarlac, Tarlac, to pray for me because I was believed to be sickly and might die before I reached the age of 7. My mom at one point dressed me in a small maroon-colored habit and brought me to touch the Poong Jesus Nazareno enshrined in the Cathedral. Oh, and this is where they were also married 42 years ago!
The two processions met before 5 a.m. — the Josh Lugay image of the Resurrected Christ and the Mater Dolorosa, veiled in mourning black. There was no young angel in harness singing “Resvrrexit sicvt dixit, allelvia!” nor a dove with wings clipped tied to balloons. But yes, there was an angel, accompanied by a sacristan, on a crane of the Tarlac Electric Inc., whose driver delicately navigated toward the Holy Mother’s brightly lit carroza so the young angel could get near her face to take away her black mourning veil. No fuss, just happy fireworks coming from the canopy of the church. The Lord has risen!
There were so many people that we were not able to sit inside the cathedral, so we just sat outside for the Easter morning Mass. My mom was delighted to hear me for sing for the first time the good old Mass songs of Fathers Eduardo Hontiveros and Manoling Francisco, SJ. I was just feeling the moment to see many happy people just like Christmastime. And looked forward to my Chowking breakfast with my parents later.