A sight to behold


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12 points on the Omicron surge 

History tells of the destruction in World War II of most of the churches that used to dot Intramuros. The only one left standing then was San Agustin, and what remained of the Manila Cathedral, which was later rebuilt.


One of the former Intramuros churches was the Iglesia de San Nicolas de Tolentino, the home church of the Augustinian Recollects.


Today, there are only two existing remembrances of this church: a historical marker at the corner of Recoletos and Muralla streets, and one of the country’s most beloved Christian images, which used to be enthroned in the church.


The Manila Bulletin’s office now stands on the spot where the church once proudly stood.


Meanwhile, it is the transfer (traslacion) of the Black Nazarene image on Jan. 9, 1787, from the San Nicolas Tolentino Church to Quiapo Church that is commemorated every year in what has become the country’s most sensational, most anticipated, and longest Catholic procession.


As the Quiapo Church website states: “The image of the Black Nazarene was brought to the Philippines by an unknown Recollect priest from Mexico during the Galleon trade. From the Church of Recollect Fathers in Intramuros, it was transferred to Quiapo Church...”


The choice of Quirino Grandstand as starting point of the “traslacion” remembers another church, San Juan Bautista, located in the former Bagumbayan (now part of the Luneta) and where the Recollects first placed the image from 1606-1608 before moving it to San Nicolas Tolentino where it stayed until 1787. Besides, the grandstand can better accommodate the huge number of devotees, and provide more than adequate space for a temporary altar.


Honors have been given to the Quiapo Church due to the Filipino devotion to the Nazareno: First, the image’s “traslacion” itself as a gift of the Recollects and the then-archbishop of Manila. Then, the raising of the church to the status of a “minor basilica.” Third, its designation as an archdiocesan shrine and then as a national shrine. Considering its religious and cultural importance, Jan. 9 may soon be declared as a national Catholic feast day.


As an 80s kid, I used to accompany my mother in the annual Black Nazarene procession in Quiapo. Her brother, our Tito Boy, also joined as part of his own “panata.” I always remember that the procession started and ended at the church. It was always a sight to behold.


It turns out that my childhood memories were correct: The Quiapo Church website says that it was only in 2009 that church authorities began to remember and remake the first “traslacion.”


While I have since stopped personally going to the procession, I still follow news and live coverage of this annual event with great interest.


Last week’s “traslacion” was no exception, especially with the changes made by church and government authorities: the deployment of a new “andas” featuring a tempered glass enclosure to purportedly “protect” the image and the security preparations around Quiapo Church.


While conceding the need to protect the image from the wear and tear of the raucous procession, I guess the humid or damp interior of the tempered glass enclosure may also have harmed the image. Maybe the Quiapo Church authorities should invite scientists to immediately re-examine the image, especially the torso or body part.


Livestreams of the procession showed mist inside the tempered glass enclosure that simultaneously hid or obscured the sight of the Nazareno and also may have endangered the centuries-old image itself.


The Black Nazarene procession is special to millions because of its accessibility to devotees. It is unique, and unlike others where the most a devotee could do is to look at an image or grab a flower from the carroza at the end of the mostly solemn affair.


It is also our most predominantly male and mainly-masa Catholic procession. It is a “masa” affair: The suffering Christ mirrors their social condition, and they also share in the hope of resurrection. Barefooted people guard the image, pull the abaca ropes, and have a chance to touch the image, the andas, or even just the rope.


To see and to touch because, as a sociologist says, expressions of faith could also be tactile.


Some are there in thanksgiving, while others are in supplication. Some do it by hearing any of the round-the-clock masses in church, while others join the procession. Everyone gazing at and reaching for an image of their champion – one enshrined, another moving – and exclaiming: “Viva!”
History continues.