Reflections on our second Holy Week so unlike any in the past due to the pandemic

By C. Horatius Mosquera

Like so many Filipino Catholics, I have always considered Lent—Holy Week in particular—as a season of grace, that time of the year when we take a break for reflection and renewal within the context of our Christian faith. Yet through the years, Holy Week has changed its mood, feeling, and character. The advent of modern comforts and technology seems to have distanced us from contemplation while the threat of pandemic has kept us apart from each other.

I recall as a child how summer vacations in the province would be made more interesting (at least to my city boy’s mind) with the traditions that came with observing Holy Week. Still echoing in my memory, for example, is the hypnotic chanting of the Pasion, literally a reading in rhyme of the Passion and Death of Jesus Christ, sung by women of the poblacion, from day till night, when it would lull me to sleep in the warm summer evenings while I lay under the protective mantle of a mosquito net over a carved wooden bed.

As I grew older, the Pasionwould take on a decidedly electronic character, as microphones and speakers became widespread. In the cities, however, this quaint tradition has all but disappeared of late, replaced by more decidedly secular reflections on Tik Tok.

One of my favorite occasions was Palm Sunday. I was always fascinated by the ornately woven palaspasor palm fronds which the faithful would bring to the church to be blessed. When my Mom would gather us to go church, which was just a short walk from our house, a maid would give us each a palaspasto carry. I always associated the blessing of the palm fronds a magical moment, as the faithful would raise their palaspas in unison to wave and shake up in the air. I also noticed that the palaspas was placed on altars, doors, lintels, or windows, like talismans to keep demons away from our house, and to safeguard the house and its occupants from fire or lightning. Sadly, most of us would probably have baguas on our doors and windows rather than the palaspas.

On Holy Wednesday, we would go to church to do the Stations of the Cross. The Stations of the Cross has 14 stations, a good devotional meditation during Lent if there was any. I found it utterly boring as a kid, but leave it to a pious mother to get a child to finish it all the way. Do millennials do the Stations of the Cross? Spending hours on gaming stations might be more like it.

The pandemic has been a spiritual loss as we are all kept at a distance, away from our rituals and traditions, and apart from each other.

On Maundy Thursday, I would be captivated by the “Washing of the Feet,” a ritual re-enactment of the washing of the feet of the Twelve Apostles. With the parish priest playing the role of Jesus Christ, and 12 men of good standing in the parish portraying the apostles, I always wondered if the priest noticed if any of those chosen men ever had smelly feet. Naughty childish thoughts aside, I was particularly amused one time when my own Dad was chosen to be one of those apostles. After the ritual, the parish priest gave each of the gentlemen a Bible. On my Dad’s Bible, the priest inscribed in Germanic cursive “To my apostle John,” which happened to be my Dad’s name.

On Good Friday, there were many happenings around the plaza that would be of interest to a young child. There was the procession of sacred statues on elaborate carrozas. It seemed that each family had its own statue to show off. There was also the dumugor wrestling participated in by the town’s strapping young men. I never understood how the sport was related to the Holy Week festivities, but it was entertaining nevertheless. And if your family was up to it, you could go on a visita Iglesia, visiting as many churches as you could in one day. If not, there was the “Seven Last Words,” which would go on mid-morning till 3 p.m.

I did recall one strange practice: It seemed everything stopped at 3 p.m. The elders would caution against any roughhousing that would cause any cuts, or broken bones, saying that those cuts or broken bones would never heal. Nor could you take a bath beyond 3 p.m.: It was bad luck to do so.

Solemnity was the byword on Good Friday. There were none of the regular shows on television, none of the regular music on radio, none of the films in movie houses. There were instead good old religious-themed movies on show. As a kid, I found afternoons on Good Friday boring, more so because it would also be unbearably hot, but I could not do anything else but try to be refreshed with cold drinks or iced treats, because “God is dead.”

I really enjoyed Easter Sunday as a kid. We would usually wake up before sunrise as a family to witness the ritual of the Encuentro or Salubong. It was a delightful spectacle to watch a little girl drop down from a decorated arch dressed as an angel. Of course, later in the morning, there was the Easter egg hunt. Even if the contents of the eggs were only candy or coin, it was always so much fun to go searching for those handpainted eggs—the more collected, the better!

Nowadays, there seems to be a disconnect with the communion and community that characterized the Holy Week of old. Airconditioning now keeps us at home, out of the heat. Cable television and the Internet now offer distraction from introspection. Malls have become the new town plazas. There is more interest to go to the beach, rather than the church.

We are now on our second Holy Week so unlike any in the past due to the pandemic. The health emergency has been a challenge to faith, and a spiritual loss as we are all kept at a distance, away from our rituals and traditions, and apart from each other.

Yet paradoxically, the pandemic may have provided us with an opportunity for a different kind of faith experience that is no less enriching. Beyond watching religious services streamed live, we can rediscover our spirituality, our desire to be closer to God, right in our own homes, prayerfully in the loving embrace of family. For at the core of Holy Week is the message of Easter—with its Good News of hope, the Resurrection, and life everlasting. As it was then, that message continues to be valid now, no matter how we celebrate it.

As we look forward to better times, let us not forget the blessings that come our way. For even in a time of pandemic, ours is this season of grace.