The Black Nazarene

 

The bible regarded the veneration of images and statue as idolatry. It has been said that it separate man from GOD. But why did the Catholic church initiate and administer processions of images? Even more, each has its own assigned day for feasting, celebration and procession. Is the catholic church polytheistic and hence in the practice of paganism? Why would tens of millions converged every January 9 to celebrate the feast of the Black Nazarene   barefooted and unmindful of rain or scorching heat? Why would thousands upon thousands amid risk of injury or death would forcefully hurled themselves into the disarray of humanity just to have a shot at no more than 50 feet of rope that connects to a “carossa”, that carried the image of the Black Nazarene? Were those multitudes of Catholics merely ignorant, or shamelessly, defiant of Gods resentment of paganism and idolatry? Do they have a collective reason for the displayed spontaneity? Were  they manifesting a personal concept of faith divorced from the church established dogmas and hierarchy?

Though raised and educated in a parochial school ran by catholic priest, the foregoing questions had lingered since my childhood, causing me to view the whole exercise with skepticism. I had actually regarded the annual event as entertainment par excellence until that momentous day of November 8, 1985. Early on in the evening of that day, the doctor summoned me to come near the door of the delivery room to tell me that my second child was in grave danger. The umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and she had defecated inside the womb. Her own body waste would poison her if she failed to get out immediately, which to the doctor’s mind would be impossible since the umbilical cord continued to choke her. She may not be able to get out in time, or not at all, and hence, I was being informed that an immediate surgical intervention will be the only chance to save her. I was dumbfounded and unable to speak, I gave the doctor a nod who quickly turned away from me and hurriedly  went back to the labor room. At that instance it just came out of nowhere and I muttered…”I will pull your chariot every year on the feast day of the Black Nazarene, if you let her survive”. To my mind it was an act of desperation;  a barter offering from someone who has nothing to somebody who has everything; a subconscious challenge to the Black Nazarene’s purported efficacy.

Five minutes or so…or was it five or seven… after I muttered those words the doctor summoned me again. I was quite tense and the hospital air-conditioning had done nothing to arrest my sweating, I was prepared for the bad news or was I ?... my steps were quick but heavy, as I get close, the doctor blurted, “it’s a baby girl, they’re both fine, the cord just unwind, “nagulat din ako (I was surprised myself)". All I can say was thank you Doc! and I kissed her. I again muttered while scratching my brain, “Boy! That was quick”. Soon enough I realized that I just made a promise, and that promise was taken and rewarded. All these years. I have tried to be a man of my word, but to fulfill that promise would mean a total change of my personal views on idolatry and paganism viz a viz the Black Nazarene. I may not have to do what I promised; it may just be a coincidence or was it really? What if its not. I may not be only breaking my own word but I may also be breaking a promise to the divine. The dilemma is not too difficult to solve. You see one of my guiding life principles is when confronted by two adversities, choose the safer side. And I did choose the safer side and from that time on I became a regular in the Black Nazarene procession. 

I was there on the rope gasping for breath along with the rest. Some devotees have tattoos all over their body, some were elderly, and a few were women and most were young and full of energy …and boy! the collective strength was overwhelming to say the least. Our lungs desperately seek for a few millimeters of space but there was none. The oxygen was all taken; and the body heat generated by those thousands were suffocating. I was there amid the rib crushing weight of hundreds from the back and from the front. My feet were constantly drummed by balls of heels and toes. It’s like getting in and out of your mother's womb. I was there half-conscious, I have to, else I will find myself guillotined by two inches or so diameter rope pulled by at least 1000 horsepower force from both ends.

Well, after seven years, and coinciding with my daughter’s birthday, I decided it may have been enough. After all we traditionally celebrate our children’s 7th birthday with a little bit of a bash because he/she had passed the critical years so to speak. However, between her seventh and eighth birthday, my same second daughter was hospitalized after having a convulsion. It was a very serious intestinal infection that had caused a severe fever, her eyes turned into white, the black had disappeared. The doctors felt the need for an encephalography test to check for any abnormality in brain function. Fortunately, there was none. I contemplated on that event in relation to my earlier commitment, its abrupt cessation, and the Filipino habit of asking for a “tawad” (discount). Is somebody up there reminding me of something? I thought it would be prudent to take the safer side again. So I renewed my bow to the unseen; to the divine, that I will continue to carry his image not only figuratively, but also physically through the symbolism that is the Black Nazarene to constantly remind me that there is a supreme being above all. I have come to the reconciliation, that what I am doing is not idolatry but a form of dramatization to recollect a sacred  event in human history; and to fulfill a promise to honor the divine name. The millions that gathered and will gather on the Feast of the Black Nazarene may have millions of reasons for being there, but the fact, as I have seen and felt, was that the experience brings about a  subtle energy to people towards change; it renews and invigorates consciousness; a diminishing sense of materialism; and accession to humility, these are enough reasons for me.

Perhaps not all the things that matters can be explain, and not all that can be explain really matters. It has been 27 years since I started it, and for me I know why I am going back to pull that rope again.

GOD willing and by the divine grace, I hope to see you some day on the feast of the Black Nazarene.