Hi there! Happy Easter everyone! I was supposed to give you something last Good Friday but I never made it. Anyway, here I go. You must have noticed it, the church have always regarded the cross as a symbol of triumph of Christ. I think it is only during Palm Sunday (and Good Friday?) that we get to witness a graphic (dramatic, if I may add) presentation of the suffering of Christ. More reason for us to pause and ponder upon what made the preceding week holy.
Let me continue my feature on holy week in Calbayog City. As with the past years, the Good Friday service at the Sts. Peter and Paul Cathedral began (on the dot) at 1 pm with the siete palabras. Priests from the parish and the nearby parishes took turns to reflect on the seven last words.
Old folks fondly recall that many years ago this activity ended with some sort of reenactment of the death of Jesus. Someone would say a line (supposedly the last line uttered by the Lord) and on cue, a parish worker in charge would pull a cord and the head of the crucified Christ (yup, the one with a movable head which one finds in the left wing of top of what used to be tombs of Calbayog’s first two bishops) moves or bows down portraying the death of the Lord and it always gave goosebumps to many parishioners. Alas, things can never go perfect. I’d like to recall this kwentong barbero about one particular Good Friday service in the city many years ago. The person in charge missed the cue, and forgot about pulling the cord and the head of the crucified Christ did not move. The (cue) line cannot be uttered again, so how did they do it? Someone supposedly called (‘twas more of a loud whisper) the name of the person in charge and said, “tiwasi na!” Ahh, Filipinos indeed can always make something light out of anything they go through. And yes, I experienced something akin to that myself a few years ago. There was this guy who I presumed was inspired by the crucifixions of folks in Luzon or maybe in his effort to do penitensya, had himself crucified. And there he hanged on his cross somewhere in Rawis. It was some kinda sight to behold until he called on some of his companions, nope not to reenact the seven last words, but to ask for ice water.
And what is Good Friday without the procession? There were at least 14 corrozas that went around the city last Friday and it included the carrozas that have always fascinated me as these are the ones I grew up with, so to speak.
“An carro san Señor” is how members of the Gomez family refer to the more than a century old life-size image of Christ tied and scourged on the pillar. Originally part of a set of 5 images (from Mexico) which included a centurion, the image of the Señor tied to a pillar was all that’s left after the Gomez family evacuated during the last world war.
There was the one owned by the Rosales Family. It is the one depicting the third fall of Jesus. Life-size images of Christ on the ground with a big cross on his back and at least four hudeyos with their glaring eyes are my earliest images of the suffering of Christ.
The Santo Intierro of the Sarmiento Family (or is it the Ignacio or Bernardo family, now I'm not sure), for whatever reason, is always the most popular among the mass goers. On top of many people taking time to touch its feet, its decors and flowers always get plucked even just halfway through the procession.
The image of the Dolorosa or the Sorrowful Mother gives some kinda eerie twist to Good Friday when it goes on procession in the middle of the night. It goes through the silent streets of Calbayog with the recitation of the rosary blaring and the moon peeping over the horizon.
These are some of the memories or the stuff that holy weeks are made of in my hometown, and I guess in everybody’s hometown. Let’s not even start discussing on how the people in Boracay or other resorts fared last weekend. Be that as it may, at the end of the day, it takes more than the color, rituals and pageantry that our religious traditions are made of. I guess it takes ourselves as individuals not only taking part in the activities for the sake of following tradition, but to take time to pause and ponder upon the greatest gift that the Almighty has provided us. And in doing so, to take time to ponder on the sad fact (or is it reality) that love and peace, despite being the most overused words there is, are also the most elusive in this world.
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This is it for now. Happy Easter everyone! Ciao!
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