HOTSPOT

Holy Week used to present an opportunity for total rest of the senses and contemplation. If one would not attend church services, or is simply far from the loud and ardent singing of the Pasyon at the neighborhood Pabasa, one could really take a pause from everything.
No TV and radio, and negligible activity in the streets. Tradition obliges people to be quiet and silent because God is being tried, tortured, dying or dead. Even taking a bath was prohibited.
Holy Week travels to provinces are centered less on fun, but more to participate in the religious activities.
The quietest time would be the days like today, Black Saturday, when Christians mark the day Christ died.
The joyous Christmas celebration cannot compare with the extraordinary hope bannered by Easter. Those who have attended the Easter Vigil mass know this. The mass starts with church lights turned off. The priest would intone “Light of Christ!” and from the candle he holds, the light spreads throughout the church.
All church lights would then be lit. Gone are the purple or black veils that covered altar, images and statues the entire week. It signals that  the wait is over. God is risen. For Christians, this story puts it apart from others. Yes, our God made the supreme sacrifice to save us, and our God rose again from the dead.
The churches are finding it difficult to compete for people’s attention in these modern times. If bishops and priests once feared the temptation of cable television would take away the flock, there are now streaming apps that offer thousands of viewing choices, on-demand. There are the ubiquitous devices offering round-the-clock access to the internet and social media.
The travel and tourism industry has also turned Holy Week into an essential part of its peak season, complete with parties and events.
Surely, the devout would be going to church to join in the rites, whether as a matter of family obligation, force of tradition, or personal acts of faith. The Alay Lakad to the Antipolo Church, for instance, is back after a pandemic break and was expected to draw crowds.
Modernity, it seems, offers no respite for the devout and non-devout alike. The 24/7 assault on the senses coming from media, government, business, and personal circles, almost certainly creates a need for both personal and collective time for rest and contemplation. Whether the churches would address their innermost and broadly-shared concerns throughout the rites, sermons, and commentaries, we do not know. We sure hope so. People would go back to church and go frequently if they find their faith truly relevant and responsive to them, and will help fill whatever void in their personal and collective lives.
Holy Week this year falls almost exactly a month before the anniversary of the 2022 elections. Regardless of who we voted for, and including those who have not yet been eligible to vote, this is a good time for self-examination of where one has fallen short of the actions needed in our politics. It is a time not just for remembering the hopefulness and good feelings brought by the campaign. It could be a time for reflection on how best to pursue our common goals whether our candidate won or not. What use are our supposedly superior political beliefs if actions end on Election Day, right? Surely, history did not end and a lot has to be said and done to improve conditions, defend rights, promote justice, and so on.
Perhaps one matter we could agree to think about this Holy Week is the long overdue commemoration of the many we lost in the pandemic. A great number of them were swiftly cremated, without the opportunity for expressions of grief. Many of them were our relatives and friends, and medical frontliners who served us even at the cost of their own lives. Is it possible to set aside differences to give them a proper national remembrance? It would be in honor of the ones we lost and of the grief we’ve bottled in for three years now.
There could be more areas of agreement, but these may come to us when we pause and reflect individually and collectively. We share one country and one citizenship. Surely, this should be a good starting point. Perhaps only then could we find the way to our very own personal, political, social, economic and environmental Easter. Follow me on Twitter @tonyocruz