fiesta 2010
While making my usual rounds of the Cathedral compound I saw a young man in red overalls sweeping and mopping the shrine. Not recognizing him as one of our workers, I approached him and asked who he was. And he told me his story.
When he was in college, he narrated, he was brought by his benefactor to accompany him every now and then to clean the shrine. They would clean the shrine at night – throwing away withered flowers, scrubbing the floor free of melted candles, and sweeping and mopping the place clean. That was his weekly routine then.
After graduation he worked as a seaman abroad and last December he returned for vacation, and once more had the opportunity to go back to the shrine of his college years. And that was where I found him, cleaning, mopping, scrubbing the floor free of melted wax. No one told him to do what he was doing and there was no obligation on his part. Probably it was the nostalgia of re-living things long gone. Probably it was the urge to retrace the graces and blessings of the past. But most probably it was simply love, gratitude and filial devotion.
When people came days before the fiesta and during the fiesta itself they brought with them their stories, stories of how their lives were touched at one time by this “feeling” Mother, the Virgen de la Candelaria.
As I said in my homily the Sunday before the fiesta, I am not a believer in a statue growing in size, though I assisted in crowing her for four years now and had at one point asked that the crown be adjusted so that it could fit her. I feel that if the Candelaria does miracles, and I believe she does, why should it be directed to a stone growing in size? That would be preposterous, ridiculous and a laughable show of divine power considering the problems of the world and our utmost need for miracles in this country!
However, I am a believer in an image that has “feelings”. When you come face to face with “it”, you feel a presence that tells you “it” can feel you, “it” can read your thoughts and emotions, “it” can sense your presence, “it” is not oblivious to your tears and “it”is a party to your joy . I don’t know how to describe this but this is probably the best that I can do to convey what I think and feel about the image – that even when I am alone up there I cannot feel that I am alone, and I can sense that “it” can sense my presence!
No, I am not a miracle fanatic. I never had any experience of “miracles” in my life, at least the miracles that usually make people talk about (though I badly need one.). Neither am I putting life and attributing powers to a stone that would make my thinking tantamount to idolatry. The explanation is not that simple. But I believe that that image was probably done hundreds of years ago in a very devout way that the artist, professional or otherwise, enshrined in stone not just an image but also a presence, a sacrament so theologians say, that reveals beyond what the eyes can see and tells more than what the cold stone reveals.
If you are familiar with the way the Orthodox Church makes icons and treats them, that’s what I mean. Icons for them are sacraments (the Orthodox Church unlike the Catholics did not limit their sacraments to seven, which I believe “boxed” and limited God’s choices of “bonding” with us). When they make their icons, the artist fasted for forty days before one can even begin his painting. And when an icon is finished done in a prayerful and devout manner, it is endowed with the presence of the divine. For me that’s how the Candelaria was probably made, or if the artist never intended it for anything but to make a living, it was the prayers of the devout, the devotion of our forbears to Mary, that enshrined the presence of the divinity in it.
This is the impetus that made us decide to hold a little program in her honor under her balcony for nine days – a program we called Saludo a la Virgen de la Candelaria, rendered by the different barangays clustered into nine zones. We wanted to hold it like our traditional Filipino gatherings after supper long before we were invaded by teleseryes. Remember those days when we would gather together around our elders to tell stories and recall the events of the day (including the not so pleasant tsismis moving around town)? And then out of the blue somebody would be pulled out to perform a stunt or two reciting this and that or singing some lullaby or rhyme learned early during the day in school? Or the braver fellow among us would just announce, “look lola, see what I can do!”
The saludo was a homely gathering of Jarenos before the mad scramble of pilgrims and businesses to the feast. It was just “us” gathering as one family before an elder, deeply respected and greatly loved, doing whatever we can think of (I mean whatever the barangays can come up with on such short notice) to please and entertain her – vying for that position of who made her proudest. We had street dancing by our very own Tribu Salognon with the accompanying roar of the drums, a composo, two discursos to the Virgin delivered by two young girls, a binalaybay in her honor, two street dramas depicting how Jaro discovered her Mother, tambourine dancers, folk dancers, a children’s choir who sung their winning pieces, modern dances including Nobody But You to the delight of the crowd, two beautiful soloists, so many amateur choirs and even one with their lip singing rendition of the Salve Regina which ended in disaster but nevertheless delighted us all.
These we did after walking in procession from the barangays which culminated in a mass at the Balcony. And like all Ilonggo gatherings, food was provided. One barangay hired a popcorn stand which gave out free popcorn the whole time (I have never eaten that much popcorn in one night.). Another gave out free ice cream (at one point we have to interrupt the program because the performers are holding fast with no plans to let go of their ice cream cones). Some brought bread, juice, bottled water and whatever was edible. The program and even the food were so impromptu to be perfect, and that is precisely why that gathering was just so homely and intimate . . . like family.
As I said, we are in a presence of a feeling image and her presence so imbues the place it smells like her. (Do you know that the color of the cathedral matches the original altar and the original color of her dress in the shrine? It’s as if she wanted it that way all along.) The Jaro Cathedral is after all her home of preference! That is the reason why we wanted to put a limit to places where people can sell their candles during her feast.
But sad to say, when business takes over, a lot of things are compromised. In one’s desire to make a profit and do so as quickly as possible, even signs like Sagrado nga Lugar were no longer respected and openly defiled. I was so angry that morning I prayed to the Virgin that the candles would not be completely sold. And so it happened (wicked smile here) and some came the morning after to return their unsold candles (which they could not!). I wanted to tell them “ti mamay nyo na kay wala kamo pagtaha sa balay sang aton Señora!” Well I could not do that then unless I wanted to be catching around sticks of perdon thrown at me. I told you, she is a “feeling” image! “It” is not just a representation, or an image – “it” has a presence that must be respected!
If you think I was harsh by praying so, then you should also judge Jesus to be the crueler between us. He made a whip and overturned their tables for making the temple, the house of his Father, a den of thieves, while I just said a little prayer in my anger.
I think something has to be done about this. If there was one thing we wanted to do then, it was to create amidst the din of business in and out of the cathedral compound, a little enclave, just a little enclave, where people would not think of anything but pray, where one could be given the chance to simply pray and be with our Mother. It is not too great a demand to ask. If the Jareños want their cathedral to be a house of prayer, a worthy shrine for the Mother of God rather than a center for profit and a market place, then something has to be done.
Frankly I should be the last person to care for the shrine. I might be a router for the Candelaria (I have always in my writings, articles and lectures propagated her image as the image of preference for the Archdiocese of Jaro) but I am definitely not a Jare̱o. But I warn you, this practice of yours (or should I say this neglect), is simply making this holy place a den of thieves, for people whose only desire is a quick buck (which makes it no different to the Jaro Coliseum Рno wonder it is as popular as the fiesta!). I made one attempt too many and it is up to the Pastoral Council and the organizers of the fiesta, if indeed they care, to do something about it in the future.
I have seen firsthand people coming from all walks of life to Jaro bringing with them their stories of the Candelaria – how she touched their lives, how she changed their fortunes, how she influenced their destiny, how she led the way. I have seen this place filled with devotees who kept on coming back to do her homage. I have seen young people flocking here, bringing with them their prayers to pass the board exams with their hopes for their family should they be given a little help by their caring Mother. I have seen a mother walking on her knees to the altar followed dutifully by her son walking by her side. I do not know what she was praying for, but with the difficulty and pain that she had placed herself into, I believe it was something too important, too great to be prayed for just about in any other church. It has to be at the home of the Candelaria. We are not from here, and I, who am just passing by, am not asking too much from Jarenos – in her feast, I just want a place where I can be allowed to pray to the Candelaria. I just want her shrine to be kept sacred.
When he was in college, he narrated, he was brought by his benefactor to accompany him every now and then to clean the shrine. They would clean the shrine at night – throwing away withered flowers, scrubbing the floor free of melted candles, and sweeping and mopping the place clean. That was his weekly routine then.
After graduation he worked as a seaman abroad and last December he returned for vacation, and once more had the opportunity to go back to the shrine of his college years. And that was where I found him, cleaning, mopping, scrubbing the floor free of melted wax. No one told him to do what he was doing and there was no obligation on his part. Probably it was the nostalgia of re-living things long gone. Probably it was the urge to retrace the graces and blessings of the past. But most probably it was simply love, gratitude and filial devotion.
When people came days before the fiesta and during the fiesta itself they brought with them their stories, stories of how their lives were touched at one time by this “feeling” Mother, the Virgen de la Candelaria.
As I said in my homily the Sunday before the fiesta, I am not a believer in a statue growing in size, though I assisted in crowing her for four years now and had at one point asked that the crown be adjusted so that it could fit her. I feel that if the Candelaria does miracles, and I believe she does, why should it be directed to a stone growing in size? That would be preposterous, ridiculous and a laughable show of divine power considering the problems of the world and our utmost need for miracles in this country!
However, I am a believer in an image that has “feelings”. When you come face to face with “it”, you feel a presence that tells you “it” can feel you, “it” can read your thoughts and emotions, “it” can sense your presence, “it” is not oblivious to your tears and “it”is a party to your joy . I don’t know how to describe this but this is probably the best that I can do to convey what I think and feel about the image – that even when I am alone up there I cannot feel that I am alone, and I can sense that “it” can sense my presence!
No, I am not a miracle fanatic. I never had any experience of “miracles” in my life, at least the miracles that usually make people talk about (though I badly need one.). Neither am I putting life and attributing powers to a stone that would make my thinking tantamount to idolatry. The explanation is not that simple. But I believe that that image was probably done hundreds of years ago in a very devout way that the artist, professional or otherwise, enshrined in stone not just an image but also a presence, a sacrament so theologians say, that reveals beyond what the eyes can see and tells more than what the cold stone reveals.
If you are familiar with the way the Orthodox Church makes icons and treats them, that’s what I mean. Icons for them are sacraments (the Orthodox Church unlike the Catholics did not limit their sacraments to seven, which I believe “boxed” and limited God’s choices of “bonding” with us). When they make their icons, the artist fasted for forty days before one can even begin his painting. And when an icon is finished done in a prayerful and devout manner, it is endowed with the presence of the divine. For me that’s how the Candelaria was probably made, or if the artist never intended it for anything but to make a living, it was the prayers of the devout, the devotion of our forbears to Mary, that enshrined the presence of the divinity in it.
This is the impetus that made us decide to hold a little program in her honor under her balcony for nine days – a program we called Saludo a la Virgen de la Candelaria, rendered by the different barangays clustered into nine zones. We wanted to hold it like our traditional Filipino gatherings after supper long before we were invaded by teleseryes. Remember those days when we would gather together around our elders to tell stories and recall the events of the day (including the not so pleasant tsismis moving around town)? And then out of the blue somebody would be pulled out to perform a stunt or two reciting this and that or singing some lullaby or rhyme learned early during the day in school? Or the braver fellow among us would just announce, “look lola, see what I can do!”
The saludo was a homely gathering of Jarenos before the mad scramble of pilgrims and businesses to the feast. It was just “us” gathering as one family before an elder, deeply respected and greatly loved, doing whatever we can think of (I mean whatever the barangays can come up with on such short notice) to please and entertain her – vying for that position of who made her proudest. We had street dancing by our very own Tribu Salognon with the accompanying roar of the drums, a composo, two discursos to the Virgin delivered by two young girls, a binalaybay in her honor, two street dramas depicting how Jaro discovered her Mother, tambourine dancers, folk dancers, a children’s choir who sung their winning pieces, modern dances including Nobody But You to the delight of the crowd, two beautiful soloists, so many amateur choirs and even one with their lip singing rendition of the Salve Regina which ended in disaster but nevertheless delighted us all.
These we did after walking in procession from the barangays which culminated in a mass at the Balcony. And like all Ilonggo gatherings, food was provided. One barangay hired a popcorn stand which gave out free popcorn the whole time (I have never eaten that much popcorn in one night.). Another gave out free ice cream (at one point we have to interrupt the program because the performers are holding fast with no plans to let go of their ice cream cones). Some brought bread, juice, bottled water and whatever was edible. The program and even the food were so impromptu to be perfect, and that is precisely why that gathering was just so homely and intimate . . . like family.
As I said, we are in a presence of a feeling image and her presence so imbues the place it smells like her. (Do you know that the color of the cathedral matches the original altar and the original color of her dress in the shrine? It’s as if she wanted it that way all along.) The Jaro Cathedral is after all her home of preference! That is the reason why we wanted to put a limit to places where people can sell their candles during her feast.
But sad to say, when business takes over, a lot of things are compromised. In one’s desire to make a profit and do so as quickly as possible, even signs like Sagrado nga Lugar were no longer respected and openly defiled. I was so angry that morning I prayed to the Virgin that the candles would not be completely sold. And so it happened (wicked smile here) and some came the morning after to return their unsold candles (which they could not!). I wanted to tell them “ti mamay nyo na kay wala kamo pagtaha sa balay sang aton Señora!” Well I could not do that then unless I wanted to be catching around sticks of perdon thrown at me. I told you, she is a “feeling” image! “It” is not just a representation, or an image – “it” has a presence that must be respected!
If you think I was harsh by praying so, then you should also judge Jesus to be the crueler between us. He made a whip and overturned their tables for making the temple, the house of his Father, a den of thieves, while I just said a little prayer in my anger.
I think something has to be done about this. If there was one thing we wanted to do then, it was to create amidst the din of business in and out of the cathedral compound, a little enclave, just a little enclave, where people would not think of anything but pray, where one could be given the chance to simply pray and be with our Mother. It is not too great a demand to ask. If the Jareños want their cathedral to be a house of prayer, a worthy shrine for the Mother of God rather than a center for profit and a market place, then something has to be done.
Frankly I should be the last person to care for the shrine. I might be a router for the Candelaria (I have always in my writings, articles and lectures propagated her image as the image of preference for the Archdiocese of Jaro) but I am definitely not a Jare̱o. But I warn you, this practice of yours (or should I say this neglect), is simply making this holy place a den of thieves, for people whose only desire is a quick buck (which makes it no different to the Jaro Coliseum Рno wonder it is as popular as the fiesta!). I made one attempt too many and it is up to the Pastoral Council and the organizers of the fiesta, if indeed they care, to do something about it in the future.
I have seen firsthand people coming from all walks of life to Jaro bringing with them their stories of the Candelaria – how she touched their lives, how she changed their fortunes, how she influenced their destiny, how she led the way. I have seen this place filled with devotees who kept on coming back to do her homage. I have seen young people flocking here, bringing with them their prayers to pass the board exams with their hopes for their family should they be given a little help by their caring Mother. I have seen a mother walking on her knees to the altar followed dutifully by her son walking by her side. I do not know what she was praying for, but with the difficulty and pain that she had placed herself into, I believe it was something too important, too great to be prayed for just about in any other church. It has to be at the home of the Candelaria. We are not from here, and I, who am just passing by, am not asking too much from Jarenos – in her feast, I just want a place where I can be allowed to pray to the Candelaria. I just want her shrine to be kept sacred.
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