To begin with, Catholicism is cultic. I use “cult” in its general sense: worship, devotion, veneration; expressed in rites and rituals, devotions, icons, holy objects. Catholicism, described as “sensuous,” easily lends itself to cult. It’s said to be a “full-bodied experience” where the awareness of God comes through the five senses: music, incense and candles, beads, scapulars and medals, icons, costumed hierarchy, magnificent altars.
Even more so is the Filipino version, alien to minimalism, and in love with spectacle and ornamentation, bursting in full color and sound in our fiestas. When it comes to cult, Filipino religiosity spilleth over.
But “cult” is an essential component of religion; it’s not in question. What makes ours “questionable” is its excess and extravagance – too many, too much; like a fetish, an obsession, the answer to all our problems. We are not known for restraint; we pile them all on: our buffet tables, the walls in our homes, our sari-sari stores.
And so every devotee has her clutch of dog-eared prayers, devotions and novenas for every relic, favorite saints or special occasions. And every other Filipino home, from Baseco to Bel Air, has its altar, big or small, with statues and images, rosaries and medals on which we peg our hopes; for ours is an asking religion. As far as we are concerned, our icons are not mere symbols or representations but possessed of some immanent power to heal our sick; or to grant a job or the jackpot; and so we touch or rub “their feet, their face, the pedestal if we can’t reach the face.”
At the apex, what can beat the fanatic frenzy that is Quiapo on the feast of the Nazarene? Enough said.
But surely, there is more to religion than just the “sensuous.” There is the brain, the “innermost part” of our being, the transcendence of it all.
This leads to a few questions which both we the faithful who tend to be cultic, and the still cultic-princely prelates and priests who cultivate it, must try to answer.
Icons and holy objects are good. The Bible and Church teachings are clear. We do not worship them; we only venerate. Yet, why are we accused of idol worship? Is it because it seems that we do? “They shall plead for your needs,” advertised a store selling statuary.
Devotions are good. They constitute much of the Filipino’s prayer life. But many a sociologist and theologian wonder whether the pietism permeates the devotees’ lives or whether it is a comfort zone or a compartment for selected portions of their lives.
Good too is the veneration of saints, the great exemplars, around whom devotions can be stirred to fervent heights. But to an honest eye, saint-making can be political. Like a comet, John Paul II streaked past John Paul I (a man of “vast learning” and humilitas who was shedding the trappings of high ecclesiastical office) and John XXIII (Vatican II, remember?), both long “blessed” but now “forgotten” in the back burner with the power off.
There has been a call for lay saints because in Paradise we may find “mothers, workers, professionals, students set higher than the official saints we venerate on earth.” (Right now I can name two friends who are living saints but will never make it to the official pantheon.) But working against lay saints is “the Church’s requirement that a local devotion spring up” around them! What do we have here, a popularity contest?
Rituals, simple or grand, are good or a mixed bag. They can bring in the numbers. The Nazarene brings in millions (of people and money, I am told), in a manner by the way, that the Church laments year after year.
Yet, why another kilometric, winding procession in the environs of Luneta? What kind of “faithful” is the Church nurturing?
Our symbols and expressions of worship are so profuse, they swamp all meaning and become ends in themselves. This is hardly the stuff religion and spirituality are made of – an observation turning off sectors of both youths and adults, perhaps still an expendable minority in the eyes of the Church, but for how long? The question rankles.
But despite everything, cult is good. They remain occasions for “faith experiences” and may be the bedrock of a people’s deep faith. Writes a relative, “Tama na sa akin ang First Friday and prayers, de todo mal y peligro libranos, Señor.” Who is to question that?
Christmas is upon us. Spared from being decked like the Sto. Niño, Santa Claus, myth or not, is coming in all modes of transport: floating down a parachute, climbing a ladder, dangling on a rope, riding on an elephant. But the best Santa is in my sala – Rogate Images’ “Kneeling Santa,” cap in hand, a smile playing on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes, bent over, adoring the Babe in the manger. Here’s the man of the hour adoring the real reason for the season!
Asuncion David Maramba is a retired professor, book editor and occasional journalist. Comments to marda_ph @yahoo.com, fax 8284454