When I was young, Mama would have me tag along with her for the feast day of the Jesus Nazareno in Quiapo. I vaguely recall that we visited a distant relative there once or twice. We used to have a small image of the Black Nazarene at home.

The Memije family's true Nazareno devotee was Mama’s brother, Larry. On most days, Larry Memije is a renowned painter of old Vigan houses, a darts player, and a cyclist. But for many years, every January 9, he joined hundreds of thousands of “mamamasan” whose devotion to the Black Nazarene keeps the tradition alive.

Whether climbing the andas to touch the image, wiping it with a towel, helping pull the ropes, or joining from a distance, it is this persistent, shared faith that sustains the Nazareno devotion year after year.

I’ve been following this tradition ever since. Many friends have also become “mamamasan” and devotees of the Nazareno. The devotion is a powerful symbol and expression of Filipino Catholic faith, and it is the continuing, lived devotion of ordinary people that upholds this icon of Filipino religiosity. Pope John Paul II raised Quiapo Church to the status of a minor basilica in 1987. Recognition by local Church authorities came only after years of unwavering popular devotion, showing that it is the people who truly keep the Nazareno devotion alive.

According to a 2024 primer released by the basilica clergy, “until the 1980s, the statue at the main altar was also the one used for the procession.”

The image had since been divided into two: “The original head of the Nazareno is with the Venerado statue enthroned at the main sanctuary of the church. The original body is with the Vicario, which is brought out during the annual Traslacion procession.”

The primer also states that Quiapo native santero Giner Maglaqui sculpted the new head of the Vicario and body of the Venerado.

This has not been the only major change. Twenty years ago, in 2006, the annual procession became what is now known as the Traslacion. The move commemorated the transfer of the image from Intramuros to Quiapo. The change became permanent in 2009.

Thanks to population growth, as well as live television and radio coverage, and later the explosion of the internet and social media, more people have joined the procession and become devotees. Many have also written theses, dissertations, and academic papers from across disciplines about Quiapo’s Nazareno.

Local and national government officials, police officers, media commentators, and even church officials have in recent years voiced out concerns about “chaos,” “disorder,” “anarchy,” and the procession “taking a long time.” I really don’t understand these concerns, given that devotees have shown no track record of intentional violence against one another or causing intentional damage to the image. As to the time it takes for the andas to travel from Quirino Grandstand to Quiapo, what is the problem with that?

There had been no shortage of faith and discipline among the devotees. There are overflow crowds in the nine-day novenario leading to the fiesta, and the church is packed for each of the 33 fiesta masses held from Jan. 8-9. Hundreds of thousands attend and participate in the Misa Mayor at the grandstand.

I remember one time when the devotees stood up to local government and church authorities: it was when the route inside Quiapo district was changed. That’s quite understandable, to be honest. The senor should be able to pass through the streets of Quiapo, and the people should be visited by their patron.

There’s one possible change that the basilica authorities and the Archdiocese of Manila could consider for 2027. Each day of the nine-day novenario could be assigned to a particular sector: senior citizens, the sick and persons with disabilities, workers, children and students, farmers, families of OFWs, SMEs, and LGBT. I’m quite certain most devotees and the various sectors would appreciate and welcome such a change.

I write this while watching a livestream of the first few hours of this year’s Traslacion. I could still see countless men and women jostling, pushing, shoving, and inching their way toward the andas and the ropes. In Quiapo, an endless stream of people attends the hourly masses, including entire families. Thousands still line up for pahalik.

What you and I cannot see is what’s in those people’s hearts and minds as they express their faith that is alive. May the Nazareno grant us our prayers and bless the Philippines.