I HAVE to admit. Lent is one of the few times of the year when I couldn’t help but feel a different sense of nostalgia. Call it a soon-to-be retiree’s longing for the good old days when there were no high-tech gadgets and toxic social media platforms.
True, times have indeed changed and the many advancements in technology have given way to a modern style of living. But is this enough reason to let go of the beautiful traditions that have been part and parcel of our fabric as a people?
From hand-made palaspas to commercially-produced palm fronds complete with a scanned image of your favorite saint printed on a glossy photo paper, from a cappella singing of the pasyon in traditional tunes to videoke-style rendition complete with live accompaniment and synthesizer, and from an orderly Good Friday procession highlighted by communal praying or recitation of the rosary to what is now simply a walk around the poblacion area with the partakers wearing the coolest summer outfits and taking selfies at every sight of the life-size santos on top of the ornate carozzas.
What else are we modernizing all for the sake of outgrowing our beautiful traditions?
My brother Noel and I were in our elementary years when we would unusually wake up early the next day after Palm Sunday. Aside from helping and doing our share in setting up the make-shift altar in our Pabasa or puni, we would eagerly await the arrival of the invited barrio manangs or mangatwa who chanted the pasyon in now bygone and seemingly forgotten melodies. They were not the best singers in town who received any formal vocal training. But their voices were so distinct that they were a league of their own. Magparalumpu, managulele as the old folks would call it, as they retell the life, passion and death of the Lord in a melody that spoke volumes of the people’s collective desire to be forgiven of whatever sins they have committed in the past.
In the afternoon, we would then wait for the magdarame or the magsalibatbat. It was only later in our teens when we have correctly called these people as flagellants. Some of our playmates would even cowl in fear, but my brother and I would be in awe and overwhelmed by the sight of men trying to reenact that poignant scene when Jesus carried the cross to Mt. Calvary. The young maritess in me would then try very hard to possibly identify at least one of the flagellants, which was next to impossible. A black cloth covered their entire heads, and their backs dripping with blood could not even provide a clue or any distinguishing mark to help me identify at least one of the flagellants. Back then I did not know the meaning or the significance of that act, but I was so moved by such gesture, even feeling so sorry for these people who wanted their sins to be washed away.
The Good Friday procession was a sight to behold for the onlookers lined along the streets, and a different spiritual experience for those who took part in it. Right after the police mobile was the late Tatang Crising Silva giving instructions to everyone who immediately followed as if in a trance. It was a slow-moving and quiet procession as the members of the different lay organizations led the townsfolk in reciting the rosary.
How can I forget the pakawasa or the karambola which officially marked the end of the Pabasa? With no meat the whole of Friday, everyone looked forward to that very moment when the clock struck 12; it was already Saturday and everyone took part in the grand salapo or boodle fight. If the club had solicited more than enough funds or had very generous donors, there would be lechon and all sort of food you only see in a grand fiesta celebration. This was our humble idea of community spirit.
For years, the Catholic Church has also reminded the faithful to let go of the many trappings of Lent so that the focus is on the liturgical celebrations that provide the true essence of the season. But I would like to believe that these practices will not make us any less of a Catholic or slow down our spiritual maturity, provided we never lose sight of the true and lasting message of the risen Lord.
Admittedly, it is in the simplicity of how we spend the Lenten season that we can find the meaning and purpose of the celebration, and enable us to walk through our faith and deepen our spirituality.
