A conservative blog of an incoming college student concerning all things quirky and demented. Be prepared to read a lot of posts concerning Church matters and the odd thought every now and then. That said: Tolle, lege!
"They speak interminably about literary matters (what else can they do?). They read the Iliad or the Pharsalia or they are writing the Commedia; they are magisterial in the exercise of their art, yet they are in Hell because Beatrice forgets them."
- J.L. Borges, "The Noble Castle of the Fourth Canto"
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I'm a bit of a drifter with far too much time in his hands.I'm graduating college in March and hopefully going for my JD this June. And I have this strange ability where I'm able to discern what hot people are thinking, but maybe that's just me.
"And we, our soul rent with sorrow, say to Jesus in all sincerity: I am yours and I give my whole self to You; gladly do I nail myself to your Cross, ready to be in the cross-roads of this world a soul dedicated to You, to your glory, to the work of Redemption, the co-redemption of the whole human race."
A repost of a hymn to the Virgin which I originally posted in January. Nick Joaquin, one of the greatest Filipino writers and a loyal son of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary, was said to have praised this Despedida as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, religious song of Spanish Manila. It was composed by a certain P. Hernandez almost four hundred years ago, and was sung on the novenario and leading to the great Feast of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary. For 10 straight days it was sung after each Mass; at the part when the choir sings 'dame tu bendicion', all in the church kneel while the image of Our Lady is incensed. Upon reaching 'Madre Amorosa, prenda mi amor', the image is veiled by the heavy curtains that used to be present in the old retablo mayor of Santo Domingo church, keeping Our Lady from view until the next day of the novena.
Despedidas, though, are not unique to the Santissimo Rosario; on May pilgrimages, too, they are sung at the great shrines of Mary in the Philippines, and presumably the rest of the Spanish colonies as well. However, this version is unique, in that it has remained relatively unchanged for almost four centuries now. In singing it, then, we are singing the same song which San Fernado de las Capillas, San Lorenzo Ruiz, and San Vicente Liem de la Paz sung in honor of the same Grand Dame, and which countless other Dominican friars sung before embarking on their great endeavor to spread the Gospel in these parts of the world. It is only fitting that we end the Mary month of May with it.
This solid gold sacra or cartagloria is one of the most treasured liturgical accoutrements of venerable San Agustin church in Manila. The words of the consecration are etched on a field of solid gold, and it is only brought out on the Feast of St. Augustine. After the Mass it is immediately returned to the sacristy. From the book 'San Agustin: Art and History 1571 - 2000' by Fr. Pedro Galende OSA and Regalado Trota Jose comes the following excerpt.
"... but the most precious liturgical item which has survived all these turmoils is a sacra, a plaque with the words of the Consecration, o fpure gold mounted on wood. Possibly a 17th-century piece, it formed a part of the treasure evacuated to Pampanga in 1762, just before Colonel Draper's men looted San Agustin. This sacra was brought out only for the feast of San Agustin, and immediately brought back to the vault after the ceremony. It is an excellent and exceedingly rare example of the gold which left Manila aboard Acapulco-bound galleons."
It should be remembered that, from 1762 to 1764, Manila fell under British rule. The Spanish maintained a counter government in Pampanga under the brilliant general Simon de Anda y Salazar. The convent of San Agustin, being the oldest and richest of Manila's monasteries then, was looted by the British. An unfortunate casualty of that episode in history is a 9-ft. tall monstrance made of pure silver, of which no image survives today.
Traditionally, the most solemn of all Good Friday processions in the Philippines has always been that of the Holy Burial-- the Santo Entierro, as it is popularly known here. In the Tagalog region, Laguna is remarkable for its elaborate rituals for the Santo Entierro; I have already blogged about the rituals in Pakil, and now it is Paete's turn. Paete and Pakil are 'sister towns' in that they are quite close to each other; both have churches more than a hundred years old, and both take great pride in preserving the traditions of old.
The photo above was found in one of my favorite weblogs, Sidney Snoeck's My Sari-Sari Store blog. You may also view the full set by following this link: Paete's Holy Week Rituals. If you are wondering about how the Senor is seated on a chair, it is because it hearkens back to an earlier time, way before the Spaniards ever set foot in the Philippines. Traditionally, pre-hispanic Filipinos celebrated their dead by sitting the corpse on a chair; the family of the deceased would eulogize him and sing songs of lamentation around him, while their friends and subjects (if the deceased were a datu) came to pay their respects to the corpse. In some places in northern Philippines the dead continue to be buried in jars in a seating position.
Now, I know that the images can be quite 'disturbing', so here is a note on the matter. In the Philippines, and presumably Spain and her other colonies as well, it is considered rude and impious to refer to images of the saints as objects; they must always be referred to as if they were real persons. That said, devotion becomes more than a mere tradition, but a living, breathing, action, so to speak. Saints and images of the Virgin and Our Lord are bathed, sometimes with rose water, and as in the case of Paete, a mixture of lambanog and cologne (just like Pakil's Entierro). They are smoked with orange blossom, lanzones, and even incense in some areas; they are perfumed, manicured, and even have their hair done. I know of one case where a certain family commissioned one of New York's top salons to create a wig for an image of the Lord. Perhaps the most visible ornament of the 'santo', though, are its clothes. They are made of the most expensive materials available and embroidered with sublime artistry. In many cases, and if the family can afford it, gold thread is used generously, as are pearls and semi-precious stones. The cost of such gowns and robes can climb into the hundreds of thousands of pesos.
There, too, are the aureolas, the 'halo' of the santo, which are often of silver or gold, plated if the family's means cannot afford it. Crowns of the Virgin are the most elaborate, while images of the Lord are given the 'tres potencias', three rays jutting from His head, which, depending on whom you ask, represent either the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity, the Three-fold ministry of Christ, the Paschal Mystery, or the qualities of the human soul.
"The problem, then, is not sin, but the self-absolution and self-justification of our sins… and also a total lack of honor and responsibility when it comes to sin’s consequences. Modern people like to make beds, large beds, but they don’t like to sleep in them. That is the difference between the bad Catholics of yesteryear, and even the “good Catholics” of today. Bad Catholics back then knew they were bad. They had a sense of shame. They would go to Mass, stay in the back, and slink off before anyone could see them as they went back to live with a significant other who wasn’t their spouse, or to continue living their sinful lifestyle. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t edifying, but at least they had a modicum of dignity about it."
I remember back in the day when the Clinton - Lewinsky scandal first erupted, our old parish priest made a comment in his homily condemning the former U.S. president-- not so much for cheating on his wife, but for choosing such an ugly substitute. Of course, he was telling it in jest, but I can't help but think he made an important point: Why sin when you can't even enjoy it? In the Philippines, it is almost a given to expect husbands to cheat at least once on their wives. It's also common for men of all rank and age to keep a mistress, if he can manage it; in my own family I know of several relatives who kept a mistress or two at one time or another. It's not a pretty thought, but really quite common.
But what is the point of this post? Lest anyone make such a mistake, I am definitely not advising you (especially you, male readers) to take a mistress or two just because it is common. I guess my point is, people should grow a pair and start dealing with their own problems, instead of sucking up to the Church and throwing a hissy fit when She disagrees. I'll admit, I'm a bad Catholic, I hate going to confession and if I had the choice, I would much rather sleep in till noon on Sunday than wake up at 8 to go to Mass. But then again, I would be a much worse person if I opted to follow myself than face the consequences of my actions. I am thankful, at least, that the Church in the Philippines has not shed its in-your-face attitude yet when dealing with these things.
I've met too many bad Catholics to know for sure that it is impossible to live one's life without having at least one major f--k up. Perhaps it's because I grew up in a Catholic culture that I don't ever expect the Church to budge on the issues She holds dear. This is a country where divorce is (thankfully!) still illegal, although the issue has been raised to court many times already, the earliest in the 1930s. It did not work then, and it will not work now, not only because of the massive political clout the Church still wields, but because, infidelities and illegitimacies considered, the hearts of the people have not yet lost the sacred sense of matrimony. Ultimately, I am but dust and ash, and to presume that I have the right to break my vow before God would be the ultimate impiety I could commit.
In the old days, when the time for the sermon at Sunday Mass had come, the priest would order a few of his acolytes to lock the church doors from outside, since the men would choose this time to go out of the church (presumably to avoid being chastised). They would come back in time to witness the consecration, and again exit once their wives and children had received Communion (if any did). Despite the 'impossibility' of Church praxis, however, no one in their right mind would ever think of breaking with Her. She may be a hard woman to please, but ultimately, She is a forgiving Mother to us all.
And here now is the most disturbing comment for us today: we no longer have the honor, dignity, and dare I say, the balls, to call ourselves sinners. That should be cause for concern for all of us.
Lest we forget, the merry month of May is our Blessed Mother's month. In a time when all seems lost, we must never be tempted to despair; we have the Mother of God on our side. I've posted this video before, almost if not a little over a year ago. Still, it's a timely reminder for us Catholics. These are but 50 reasons; there are plenty more. What is yours? Mine is simple: Why not? And why not indeed!
Like any Catholic, I have a list somewhere detailing all the churches I would like to visit in my lifetime, both in the Philippines and abroad. In recent years my curiosity has been ignited by the many renovations happening in churches throughout the country; to me, this is a most welcome development, if only to 'balance out' the more negative things about the local Church here (including a dwindling number of priests, an eroding sense of continuity, lax practice, etc). Be that as it may, a lot of churches-- including historical ones-- have suffered much in the Philippines. In Cebu, for example, the centuries old church of Argao had its retablo coated with spray paint per the whims of the parish priest; in Bohol, three hundred year old cantorals were torn out and used as fish wrap, and in Manila, ground zero of liturgical progressivism in the country, the situation is sometimes too difficult to bear.
This article appeared on the Philippine Daily Inquirer on Monday, and is a timely reminder and warning to those foolish or naive enough to junk the Church's heritage at the expense of nationalism, 'progress', or indeed any other ideology. It is not just the heritage of Spain or Europe or colonization that we are junking, but our most tangible link to the past, a past that reaches all the way to the Apostles. Yes, colonization is never perfect, but to discard that experience completely would be tantamount to junking our nationhood, our history, and our memory.
By Augusto Villalon Philippine Daily Inquirer First Posted 00:14:00 05/04/2009
Filed Under: Religion & Belief, Art and Crafts
MANILA, Philippines – The Heritage Conservation Society hosted a second lecture on Church heritage conservation at the Museo ng Maynila. Speaker was Father Milan Ted D. Torralba, canon lawyer and heritage advocate.
Ivan Henares prepared a summary of the lecture and questions that are reprinted here.
There have been several pontifical statements on the importance of church heritage conservation. Pope John Paul II, in his Apostolic Letter Inde a Pontificatus Nostri (25 March 1993) says, “Indeed, by its very nature, faith tends to express itself in artistic forms and historical testimony, having an intrinsic evangelizing power and cultural value, to which the Church is called to pay the greatest attention.”
Torralba pointed out that among the underlying causes for the depreciation of Philippine ecclesiastical cultural heritage are: Misinterpretation of Vatican II or misreading of the objective intent of the Council Fathers that led to confusion, neglect and miseducation; “McDonaldification” or “Disneyfication” of the Filipino; and the mystification of tourism as end-all and be-all. Torralba quoted Richard Engelhardt, “The falsification of authenticity in favor of tourism is a very serious issue.”
Torralba also quoted Czech historian Milan Hübl, “The first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history. Then have somebody write new books, manufacture new culture, invent a new history. Before long, the nation will begin to forget what it is and what it was. The world around it will forget even faster.”
Torralba said that a Filipino priest once asked, “Why preserve or restore Philippine colonial churches when these are symbols of oppression, inequality, and injustice?”
So here are some FAQs of church heritage conservation on the side of the Roman Catholic Church discussed in the lecture:
What is the cultural heritage of the Church?
The cultural heritage of the Church is that essential part of her religious patrimony or legacy handed down from its very source and summit, Jesus Christ, to which such heritage is directed. Its pastoral function is to serve the Church of Christ as effective means of catechizing and evangelizing, as affective instruments of fomenting the sense of the “Last Things.” In a sense and to a certain degree, it is (quasi-) sacramental and ecclesial.
Who are accountable for Philippine ecclesiastical cultural heritage?
1. The Roman Pontiff, by virtue of his primacy of governance, is the supreme administrator and steward of all ecclesiastical goods (Can. 1273).
2. The Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church.
According to Art. 99 of the Apostolic Constitution Pastor Bonus, 20 XI 199: “The Commission has the duty of acting as curator for the artistic and historical patrimony of the whole Church.”
Also “Art. 102—The Commission lends its assistance to particular Churches and Bishops’ Conferences and together with them, where the case arises, sees to the setting up of museums, archives and libraries, and ensures that the entire patrimony of art and history in the whole territory is properly collected and safeguarded and made available to all who have an interest in it.
“Art. 103—In consultation with the Congregation for Seminaries and Educational Institutions and the Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments, the Commission has the task of striving to make the People of God more and more aware of the need and importance of conserving the artistic and historical patrimony of the Church.”
3. Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) is the permanent organizational assembly of the bishops in the Philippines exercising together certain pastoral offices for the Christian faithful of their territory through apostolic plans, programs and projects suited to the circumstances of time and place in accordance with law for the promotion of the greater good offered by the Church to all people (cf. Can. 447; Vatican II, Christus Dominus, No. 38, 1; John Paul II, Apostolos Suos, No. 14).
What is the role of the CBCP Permanent Committee for the Cultural Heritage of the Church?
The Permanent Committee for the Cultural Heritage of the Church, according to Sec. 10 of the By-Laws in the CBCP Statutes (21 October 2000), shall:
1. Promote the cultural heritage of the Church as an invaluable aid to evangelization and catechesis;
2. Foment research on and understanding of the ecclesiastical cultural heritage;
3. Serve as a consultative body on the scientific conservation of cultural ecclesiastical goods;
4. Initiate and sustain collaboration between the Committee and similar government and/or civic agencies involved in the care, conservation and appreciation of the cultural heritage of the Church;
5. Act as official liaison with the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church in the Apostolic Sec 6. Undertake projects in different dioceses or prelatures upon invitation or authorization of, and collaboration with, the ordinaries (bishops) concerned.
Can the CBCP reprimand, or even call the attention of, bishops and/or priests who are perceived to have neglected the care of the ecclesiastical cultural heritage? Can the CBCP order the immediate stop or termination of renovations of ecclesiastical heritage structures presently on-going in the dioceses and parishes in the Philippines?
No. Please see the related question below on the process of filing legitimate complaints with the Roman Catholic Church. Note that you can also file cases in the proper courts based on the laws of the Republic of the Philippines since all colonial churches are, at the minimum, declared by the National Historical Institute as Classified Historic Structures under NHI Resolution No. 3, 22 October 1991. That’s if the priest and the bishop don’t scare the judge into believing that Saint Peter won’t let them in Heaven if they decide against the Church.
Article 428 of the New Civil Code provides that “the right of an owner over his property is not absolute but is subject to certain limitations established by law.”
Can the CBCP create a comprehensive list of all heritage churches in the Philippines in aid of information?
A qualified yes (“I hope,” said Father Torralba, “that the CBCP starts this list.”)
Can the CBCP Plenary Assembly empower its Permanent Committee for the Cultural Heritage of the Church by giving it the sole authority to approve any restoration, construction or further improvements of heritage churches, and by granting it the mandate to order the stoppage of any restoration, construction or further improvement that it deems damaging to a heritage church?
No.
Who then has the final say on the proper care of the cultural heritage of the particular churches in the Philippines?
The diocesan bishop who will base his episcopal decisions on Canon Law governing the proper care and wise use of the ecclesiastical cultural goods of his particular Church, and on concrete pastoral exigencies circumscribed by time and place.
And so, if there are legitimate complaints against the judgment or decision of a priest or the diocesan bishop as regards the care of the ecclesiastical cultural heritage in his own particular church, to whom can the said complaints be lodged?
1. Against the decision or action of a parish priest—first to the parish priest. Otherwise, appeal and recourse be lodged with the diocesan bishop;
2. Appeal against the judgment or decision of the diocesan bishop should be lodged with the authority placing such judgment or decision, which is the diocesan bishop himself;
3. Hierarchical recourse against the decision or action of the diocesan bishop can be brought before the metropolitan (or archbishop) of the ecclesiastical province, or directly to the Holy See (You can copy-furnish your complaints to Monsignor Gianfranco Ravasi, president of the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church, Via della Conciliazione 5-7, Rome, Italy 00193, fax no. +39 0669884621, or e-mail pcbcc@pcchc.va).
What now then is the role of the CBCP in protecting and curating the ecclesiastical cultural heritage of the local Church in the Philippines?
1. The CBCP can gently remind the bishops of the universal canonical legislation on the care of the ecclesiastical cultural heritage as a pastoral service assisting them in this emergent apostolic action of the Church that does hold a primary priority;
2. The CBCP, through its Permanent Committee, assists the diocesan bishops in their task of superintending the ecclesiastical cultural heritage in their respective sees by promoting the work of their diocesan commissions for church heritage thereby helping these to assume their proper obligations on heritage care and utilization;
3. The CBCP promotes awareness, sensitivity, appreciation, and valorization of the ecclesiastical cultural heritage by precisely advancing and supporting the non-formal formation activities of its Permanent Committee expressed through the conduct of the biennial national conventions, regional fora, symposia, and such like settings, and the publication of its journal on cultural heritage studies, the Pintacasi;
4. The CBCP can formulate complementary norms (local canonical legislation), manuals, policies, or guidelines to govern the proper care of the cultural heritage of the particular church in the Philippines.
The initiative began with the International Agreement between the Holy See and the Republic of the Philippines on the Cultural Heritage of the Catholic Church in the Philippines signed on April 17, 2007 and which entered into full force on May 29, 2008, following the exchange of the instruments of ratification.
What is the philosophy behind Ecclesiastical Cultural Heritage Management?
We conserve heritage—ensuring its security from theft, survival from disaster, and safety from mishandling—for the primordial purpose of maintaining and perpetuating its faith (religious/theological) significance by which such heritage is valued.
The line that links the artistic-cultural processes of Christian inspiration and Faith itself is the reference to Jesus Christ.
He is culmen et fons (culmination and source) of all heritage of the Church.
No one knows how the town of Pakil, in the province of Laguna, got its name exactly, nor can anyone, for that matter, pinpoint when and where their centuries-old parish acquired the life-sized crucifix in the photo above. Local lore says that, at least two hundred years ago, an old man came knocking at the church and asked to speak with the priest. The parishioners, their curiosity piqued by the strange appearance of the man, immediately summored the cura parroco. The old man would not say much of his business in Pakil, but asked for some carving tools, a room in which to work, and a day's ration of bread and water. The priest, baffled at the man's unusual request, immediately ordered that the man's needs be accommodated at the soonest possible time. When all of this was done, the man shut himself in the room, locking it from within and out.
Each day, the parishioners would hear pounding noises, and being familiar with the craft of the sculptor, they guessed that the mysterious man was a sculptor. But what was he building? At every occasion they could, the people who brought food for the man would try to look inside his makeshift workshop, but they would always fail to see what the man was working on. Finally, on the seventh day, the parish priest noticed that all was quiet in the room. The men decided to check on the man, fearing the worst had happened. When they reached the room where the mysterious man had stayed, the door, which had previously been sealed, was left ajar, and the people fell prostrate as a magnificently carved image of the Crucified greeted them. The carving tools were laid neatly on one side, looking as if they had not been used at all. When they tried to find the man in order to thank him, they couldn't find him anywhere. The people of Pakil were convinced that he disappeared under their very noses.
Stylistically, the crucifix seems to share a lot of the characteristics of Mexican Christs. The features are certainly not Asian; the defined ribs and whirls and whorls that form the pattern of the image's blood are certainly uncommon in Philippine religious art. The hair, too, is carved, although one cannot see it because of the wig (which is, OTOH, a common trait in Filipino Christs). The image is enshrined in the parish of San Pedro de Alcantara, which is also home to one of the most beloved Virgins of the Tagalogs, NS de los Dolores de Turumba (Our Lady of Sorrows of the Dance; I'll post about that in the future).
- Addendum -
Apparently, the corpus also serves as Pakil's Santo Entierro. Come Holy Wednesday, it is taken down from the cross, and brought to the house of its caretaker. The arms of the image are articulated, meaning they can be folded up on its sides. This was a common practice in the Philippines up until the early to mid twentieth century. Once the image of the Lord reaches its destination, it is given a bath; no water is used, but rather, a mixture of lambanog ('cane vodka' for lack of a better term) and cologne. Lambanog is known for its powerful kick, having, on average, 80 to 90 proof variations (when my great granddad used to drink the stuff, it was up to 200). After the bath it is laid out on a banig or straw mat; below the mat, a cauldron containing several lanzones fruit is burned. The odor of coming from the cauldron serves to 'perfume' the Senor, and as the townsfolk of Pakil believe, symbolizes the prayers of the faithful rising up as smoke before the altar of God.
Come Good Friday, the image is carried in the solemn procession of entombment; it is carried on the shoulders, and not wheeled around on a carrozza, as is popular in these parts. Behind the image follow musicians, singing a song of lament. Finally, the image stops on several occasions, while the town-crier wails mournfully, 'Senor, misericordia Senor!' The people repeat his acclamation; all in all this happens three times, after which the procession resumes its course.
The Cross entered the Philippines borne atop the golden globe held by tiny, wooden fist of the image of the Holy Child. The strange Visitor, worshipped as a powerful rain god by the Cebuanos long after Lapu-lapu had chased off the paltry few still left alive of Magellan's crew, was feasted with song and dance-- a tradition that had been firmly entrenched when Spain once set foot in the Philippines nearly five decades after Magellan's world-changing voyage. Bato Balani Sa Gugma is a song of the Cebuanos, one of their most beloved, which they sing with hearts on high whenever the Feast of the Holy Child draws near. The words are difficult to understand, and practically incomprehensible to myself, a Tagalog speaker (Cebuano is much closer to Bahasa than Tagalog is) but the song remains powerful, sublime, divine, nontheless.
From the church of St. Wolfgang in Salzkammergut, Austria, comes this masterpiece of a statue, the 'Ecce Homo' of Meinrad Guggenblicher. Sankt Wolfgang was completed in the Late Gothic style and was a renowned pilgrim destination; as is usual in many Catholic countries, the church saw many renovations and additions, stylistically or otherwise. Guggenblicher completed this statue in 1706, and along with his pulpit, also carved for the church, is considered one of the finest examples of his work.
Here is some information on Sankt Wolfgang, culled from this website.
Saint Wolfgang was born in 924 in Pfullingen (in today's state of Baden-Württemberg, Germany). He studied at Reichenau under the Benedictines and at Würzburg before he became head of the cathedral school in Trier. He later entered the Benedictine monastery of Einsiedeln where he was ordained priest by bishop (Saint) Ulrich of Augsburg in 968. He later worked as a missionary in the region of Noricum until he became bishop of Regensburg in 972. According to the legend, Wolfgang tried to get away from political quarrels that had arisen a few years later. After arriving at the monastery of Mondsee in 976, he first lived in a cave in the mountains above the Abersee lake but later decided to build a church and a small hermitage near the lake. According to the legend, he had thrown an axe down the mountain and vowed to build the church where he would find it. A popular version of the story has it that the devil himself offered to help him build the church and for reward demanded the first living creature that entered church. Wolfgang accepted, but of course made sure that the first living creature to enter the church was not a human but a wolf. It is said that Wolfgang spent seven years in this area before he was found by a delegation of his bishopric who asked him to return to Regensburg. Wolfgang died in 994 in Pupping near Eferding in Upper Austria and was buried in the church of the monastery St. Emmeram in Regensburg. He was canonized in 1052, his feast day is 31 October.
Here is the first ever book published in the Philippines, scanned by the World Digital Library and available for viewing at that website. Written in Spanish and Tagalog, the book was also the first to show a 'distinctly Philippine alphabet', and featured basic prayers, catechism, and poetry about the Catholic faith. Here is the whole story, via the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
RP first book in cyber library
Philippine Daily Inquirer First Posted 07:09:00 04/21/2009
Filed Under: Books
Published in 1593, the “Doctrina Christiana, en lengua española y tagala,” is the first book printed in the Philippines and the first book printed in a Philippine language. It is also the first book showing an explicit and distinctly Philippine alphabet.
The only known extant copy of the Doctrina is in the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. But a copy of the 79 pages of the Doctrina is available just by clicking the image of the Doctrina’s cover page showing the image of St. Dominick.
Aside from the Doctrina, also posted in the World Digital Library is the French version of the Journal of Magellan’s Voyage, dating from 1525.
The work, attributed to Antonio Pigafetta, a Venetian scholar, details Ferdinand Magellan’s voyage around the world in 1519-22 and includes an early Western description of the people and languages of the Philippines.
A search in the digital library for “Philippines” will give six more results.
These are Aguinaldo’s Navy (created in 1900); The Attack of Manila, October 1762; Map of a Part of China, the Philippine Islands, the Isles of Sunda, the Moluccas, the Papuans; Journey to the East Indies and China, Undertaken at the King’s Command, from 1774 until 1781; Conquest of the Malukus; and Religious parade, Santa Rosa de Lima.
Source: Inquirer Research
Here is the link to the World Digital Library's page on Doctrina Christiana. Following it should be easy, if you know Spanish and can read its archaic orthography. The ancient Tagalog used here presents a more interesting challenge, though, especially since it uses Spanish orthography and is generally deeper than the extant variant used colloquially today (especially in Manila).
If, like me, you spent an inordinate amount of time researching how Holy Week was celebrated throughout the world two weeks ago, then you would know that the andas used for the processions in Guatemala are some of the largest in the world; that Franciscan priests use the Greek Orthodox altar in the Shrine of the Holy Sepulcher for the rite of the deposition; that Nazarenos are the ones with the pointed hoods, and costaleros are the ones with the sacks over their heads carrying the paso in procession. You would know that Taranto, Italy, has excellent marches to accompany the processions of Good Friday, and that an Australian comic was crucified in Pampanga here in the Philippines, who planned to use the footage of him in agony for a TV show (he should not have been let down that cross).
In Seville, capital of Andalusia in Spain, they hold what is, quite possibly, the grandest Good Friday procession in the world. Starting at the crack of midnight, La Madruga, as this procession is called, typically lasts 14 hours, with a minimum of a million people joining. The high point of the procession is the image of Nuestra Senora de Esperanza de Macarena-- a three hundred year old image of the Blessed Mother, which Sevillanos believe to have been carved by angels. The face of La Macarena is haunting; it is the face of one trying to comprehend the agony and grief of a loved one. It is at once restrained and gut-wretching. La Macarena is borne on a huge paso (processional platform), a giant, velvet palio above her announcing that she is the Queen of all Andalusia. Before her burn several tall candles, to shield her eyes from the sight of her Son in agony.
The video above shows the much revered image of La Macarena exiting the church where she and her confraternity 'reside'. Amidst much fanfare and cheers from the crowd, and the piercing trills and passion of haunting saetas sung in honor of the Virgin, the image makes its way through the crowded streets of Seville. Grown men and women cry upon seeing their beloved Queen in her grief; words of admiration, as if whispered to a lover, are dedicated to the Virgin, accompanied by thousands of kisses and rose petals blown at her by many a devout member of the crowd. Women in long, flowing mantillas accompany La Macarena, as the carefully choreographed procession relives the passion and drama of Spain's much revered Semana Santa.
All of these scenes seem to paint an image of militantly Catholic Spain, fiercely proud of her Christian traditions. But the reality is far different. Spain today is a vastly secularized nation with a growing population of atheists and agnostics. Three decades ago, it would have been unthinkable to equate Spain with secularism; even today in the Philippines, the contrite prefer to confess to Spanish priests, because they are perceived to be guardians of tradition, and many still equate that country with glorious, triumphant Catholicism. If Wikipedia is to be believed, then the downward spiral of the Church in Spain poses a serious problem, if Europe is to preserve its Christian identity. How did it happen that the land of the Dominicans, the Jesuits, Opus Dei, which traversed the whole world for glory of God and country become so secular?
The answer is not easy to pinpoint. One can perhaps trace it to the La Gloriosa Revolucion in 1869, when Masonry began to visibly flex its muscle against the Church. More recent is the Civil War of 1936, and its Red Terror, which claimed the lives of thousands of priests, bishops, and religious. But popular sentiment simply does not change overnight; less than 40 years before the Civil War, Spain was still an Empire (technically, a collection of kingdoms), but the loss of Cuba and the Philippines, as well as its defeat at the hands of America (then the new kid on the block trying to assert its place among the old powers of Europe)is sure to have played a role in secularization as well. But the bottom line is that the country's Catholic identity had been under attack for a long time. As easly as the mid-19th century, missionaries in the Philippines were already decrying the lax attitude of Spaniards when it came to the reception of the Sacraments.
Today, while the Church still retains a measure of esteem in Spain, its voice has been growing weaker by the decade. We need not look further than the legalization of same-sex marriage in that country, the pitiful church attendance (20%), and the fact that Spain has one of the lowest birth rates in all of Europe. In the face of all these numbers, one is tempted to think that all is lost for Europe. The former champions of Christendom are gone, and with it, a sense of tradition. We ask ourselves, 'Is there still a Christian nation left in Europe?'
For many, there has been a shift in thought in what constitutes a Christian nation. Many of us see the United States, for example, as the pre-eminent Christian nation on earth today, and proof of this are its great wealth and dominance in world affairs. But the United States has never received the Cross, received its pain and its love. It has received its fruits and its commerce, but not its humility, and its glory. Sometimes it can get depressing to think of the rapidly declining voice of Christianity in the world. But then along come these veritable scenes of splendor from the past, and for a brief moment, all the fears brought about by 'supercategorical thinking' cease to exist. We are alone before the Virgin of Hope once again, crying our eyes and our hearts out like children. Streets fill with the thunder of a million footsteps simultaneously pounding the pavement, and the roar of trumpets heralding the passing of the Queen.
The more I think about it, the more I see the Church like an immovable rock wall, or a majestic mountain undaunted by the tricks and artifice of man. You can butt heads with a wall all you want, but the wall always wins, leaving you with a cracked skull and perhaps more than a few broken bones. In Spain, as in Italy, Portugal, and especially France, the Church has so embedded itself in the culture that it is practically impossible to think outside of its framework. The Church has influenced food, culture, music, even the way we talk, or bid someone goodbye (e.g., Adios - to God)-- even the way we hate has been influenced somewhat by the Church. Even Luis Bunuel, who was rabidly anti-clerical, who toasted the death of bishops and priests in the Civil War, and who threw an image of the Virgin into the sea, would recall the God-haunted days when he yet had faith, citing how the rituals of Viernes Santo always brought a chill to his spine, and not a few tears.
Perhaps it is a new phenomenon to Americans and other people of non-Catholic countries, but Church attendance is never really an excellent gauge of one's faith or religiosity. To be sure, it helps a lot, but at the end of the day, it is not a direct correlate to something that is unquantifiable in the first place. In Italy and Spain, for example, one can be non-religious but still feel insulted by Communist politicians disobeying the Church. Similarly, people who are not regular church-goers can still be moved to tears by the sight of the Virgin in her grief. They cry out to her, their Mother and Queen, and wish that it was them suffering instead. Again, there is that image of the Church as an immovable brick wall; ultimately, it still deserves our respect, whether given grudgingly or not.
Admittedly, the diminishing influence of the Church is something to be lamented. But at the same time we should not expect an overnight 'reversion' to Christian truth. One thing which I fervently believe in is that being a Christian is to be incorporated into the Body of Christ, in all its wounds, bruises, and brokenness. It is not for naught that the defining symbol of Christianity is the crucifix. It is no accident that He died, and it is certainly not a mere trifle that we celebrate His sacrifice. And while a Catholic culture is not the be-all-end-all of our woes, it is certainly a good place to start. A nation is built on ideas; we cherish them with great affection, and in so doing, form our consciousness as a people. I believe that Spain's identity as a Christian nation is crucial for the Church, not only for the sake of its history, but ultimately for the sake of its survival. If indeed culture is the expression of the ideas upon which our nation (or other imagined communities) is built, then the tradition behind it must be preserved as well. You can only have too many glass houses and diamond-studded skulls to last a lifetime before obscurity or the next big fad swallow them into oblivion.
It is said that a drunk man once hurled insults at the image of La Macarena, punctuating it by following his sacrilege with a beer bottle that hit the right cheek of the Virgin. Later, upon reaching sobriety and realizing what he had done, the man was overcome with great grief and resolved to walk in the procession of La Macarena with his ankles bound in chains, and a heavy cross on his shoulders. Even when the man had died, his descendants continued the tradition, and even today, it is said that the tradition continues. Those who wish to purge Spain and indeed the rest of Catholic Europe of every last vestige of their Christian heritage seeth in hatred at the processions of Sevilla's Semana Santa, but the great multitudes who participate seem to defy the desired effect of their opinion-makers. They hate this relic of the superstitious past, because they see that it is alive, despite the onslaught of years and ideologies. They hate it, because ultimately, they are the ones in most need of the light and peace of Christ.
Semana Santa is over, and most of Spain has returned to its former habits. But the Church remains, undaunted-- though perhaps diminished and more than battle-weary-- waiting for that day when it may start to rebuild itself in Europe. And while that day seems far off, one should never underestimate the power of the Church. It is a pledge of hope and a sign of future victory that we can cling to, and ironically, but not accidentally, its herald is the image of the Crucified Lord and His Sorrowful Mother, who is nevertheless ready to forgive and forget all our offenses. That is why she is called Esperanza---Hope--, after all.
"Et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas" -the Nicene Creed
May the peace and joy of the Risen Christ be with you and yours. May the glory and splendor of this day radiate within you and inflame you with the ineffable love of the human God. For truly, Christ the Lord is risen from the dead, and has trampled it beneath His mighty heel. The angelic hosts rejoice, the whole universe rejoices and stands in awe before this most awesome mystery-- how the Uncreated took on dust and ash became as one like the created, and how the Invincible and the Almighty succumbed to mortal sleep-- and rose, a victorious conqueror, bringing desolation to desolation itself. Christ the Lord draws all the world to Himself; let us heed His call and worship Him. Christ has risen from the dead; nothing else matters. But had He not, then truly, nothing else matters.
I realize this is a bit late, but I think it's still worth posting. On the morning of Maundy Thursday members of the Spanish foreign legion arrive in Malaga to participate in the rites of Holy Week. In particular, they lift the larger-than-life image of the Santo Cristo from the cathedral and place it on its processional 'trono', a 4-tonne veritable moving altarpiece. They subsequently carry the image to the cofradia in charge of carrying it in the actual procession at night. I really like the marcha in this video; I did some research behind it but cannot find the name of the tune nor its composer now. Any help would be appreciated.
EDIT: The name of the song is El Novio de la Muerte. Link.
I really liked the way this photo turned out. On our way home from our mini-vacation, we stopped by the sleepy town of Ibaan in the Batangas province to visit their church. We got there around 3pm; outside, a group of people were doing the Via Crucis, while inside, small families gathered to pray. From the looks of it, a Mass was probably going to start in a few minutes-- a lot of the people inside were all properly dressed and some were praying the rosary. We spent a total of fifteen minutes there, as we had to be on our way; Holy Week traffic in the Philippines can literally be a Calvary of a time. Curiously, the images weren't veiled, despite it already being Palm Sunday. I was told by my father that the custom there was to cover the images after the Palm Sunday Mass-- but which, he didn't know. Despite the 'abuse', I was thankful to have been able to see the retablo in all its glory.
I took this photo outside the church of St. James in Ibaan, Batangas, where a group of women and their children were selling these palms for Php 10 a piece. For us Catholics, the waving of palms ushers in the most sacred week of the year, when we commemorate the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of the Son of God. I came back from the beach on Palm Sunday, and the 5-hour traffic, as well as the multitudes of people crowding the streets, were an instant reminder of the solemnity of this week. I'll be honest and admit that I'm not exactly a paragon of virtue, but if anything, this week should remind us that there is nothing too great for God to forgive. May God grant all of us the grace to repent of our sins.
Hosanna, Hosanna filio David. Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini. Hosanna, Hosanna in excelsis. Amen.
Found on Flickr (see link), here is an image of the new retablo of the Cebu Cathedral. It's not yet finished; there are still some adjustments and polishing to be made, according to the craftsmen who built it. Here is a message from Robert Cruz, also found on Flickr, whose group was responsible for its construction.
We were supposed to install on the 3rd week of April yet. But the pastors requested to have them for the Chrism Mass. It took us six days to put up the structure. So many Masses celebrated daily, we could only work at night. Minutes before the Chrism Mass, we were still working on it. [I'm guessing by Chrism Mass he meant its blessing and dedication]
Thus, up-close you'll still see a lot of finishing work and adjustments yet to be done. The statues, relleve, and many of the carvings didn't make it for this shipment. We still have to clad the post-WWII marble canopy jutting out of the center. Expect the retablos to be ready for the Apr. 28 anniversary.
All components were pre-fabricated in our Laguna workshop. The main body is made of Philippine Mahogany with gold leaf appliques (carvings), internally supported by a steel structure.
The left retablo niches will have St. Valeria (top), the twins Sts. Gervasio and Protacio (left, right), bas relief of the Martyrdom of San Vitale (center).
For the right retablo: St. Joseph (top), St. Anthony (left), St. Vincent Ferrer (right), La Inmaculada (center).
The IHS logo was re-used, while the old Crucifix was decorated with rays.
Harvey, thanks for the compliment. We're also working on a proposal for four stained glass windows at the facade (choir and chapel windows).
By the 3rd week, we will start installing the twelve-bell carillon in the belfry.
Growing up, I have to say that my mental image of the Church has always been defined by the 'landscape' in which I lived. It was, for me, experienced primarily through a series of images: women in veils, Sacred Heart scapulars, walking on one's knees, sampaguita-clad statues of the saints, golden retablos, and the graphic depiction of the sufferings of the Crucified. These for me served as a background of sorts, a tapestry on which I somehow based my idea of what the Church was. One of the most ubiquitous components of that tapestry is the novena to St. Jude.
I'm sure you've seen them everywhere. They are usually hidden in some back pew of a grand church, photocopied or printed individually. I've collected a lot of these 'pamphlets' over the years; when I was a student in the sixth grade, I recall plundering our parish for copies of the novena, intrigued by its audacious claim of 'it has never been known to fail'. In 2002, I had the chance to visit Mission San Juan Capistrano in California; St. Jude was there, too, only it was a pamphlet-slash-booklet, containing nine copies of the prayer within. When I started college, I began to collect more and more of these novenas. They range in size from A4 bifolds to 3in by 3in laminated squares small enough to fit in your wallet.
I've never prayed the novena, though. Despite always being intrigued by it, I guess I was never desperate enough to give it a try. But with the worsening economic crisis and other factors, there seems to be an influx in the saint's devotees. I think it's quite fitting (and bitingly ironic) that the shrine of St. Jude in Manila is proximate to Malacanang Palace, the seat of the national government.
Perhaps one reason why I'm so reluctant to give the St. Jude novena a try is because it always seemed like folk magic to me. I have blogged before about the somewhat neurotic religious environment in which I grew up, where evangelical Protestantism seemed to mesh with traditional Roman Catholic piety. While I learned to cross myself, say the Our Father and the Hail Mary, I was also being told about the end of the world, the rapture, and all of that. I took this all in, as any child is wont to do, never really distinguishing one from another. Thus, I would kiss the foot of a saint while believing, simultaneously, that one should not commit idolatry (that is, bow before a graven image, as most prottys define it).
For some reason, whenever I would feel myself in a lull in my spiritual life, I am always buoyed up by St. Jude novena, even if I have never prayed it before. Maybe it was the sheer audacity-- and consequently, hope-- that it promises, but I end up telling myself 'Your life isn't too bad, you know.' One time, I saw an old man, who could not have stood more than 4'10, and whose skin looked as if it had been parched and burned by years walking under the sun, walk his way toward the altar of the church, carrying several pieces of paper with the novena prayers printed on them. The church was practically empty, as it was only 7 in the morning (or perhaps they had already left since the first mass there was at 5.30), and with the exception of the man, most of the people there were preparing to leave. It was such a nice little scene to observe, so peaceful and so hopeful. You would never know that he was beset my so many problems.
I don't think anyone could really determine in an empirical way whether the St. Jude novena delivers on its promise. In the end, one really has to have faith. But that's just the problem with us nowadays: we don't really believe anymore. It's all a matter of convenience and pleasure. Perhaps, one day, God will make me desperate enough to try something so audacious and so comforting as the St. Jude novena. Lord, that I may see.
Just an incredibly haunting photograph, found online, and whose source I am trying desperately to find. The people of the Sagada, instead of lighting candles to remember their dead on All Souls' Day, light small bonfires instead. First is the practical consideration-- one simply cannot expect wimpy candles to last long in the battering winds of the mountains. The more mystical side of this ritual centers on the belief that, the brighter the flame one lights, so too is the intensity of the deceased's suffering alleviated. It is especially interesting, too, since Sagada is not exactly a region where Catholicism is that entrenched-- the Anglican communion is stronger there, having been brought by American missionaries to the Philippines at the dawn of the twentieth century.
