NO JOY IN THIS PARADE!

Palm Sunday is a day for the expression of joy: Jesus was being declared King as he entered Jerusalem. Not until Easter Sunday and the celebration of the resurrection is there such joy. People are happy, smiling and glad to be with their neighbors. When the congregation enters the church people wave their palms and shout “Christ is King”. Things appeared to be quite different in Tingambato.

Upon arrival we saw people rushing to get into the procession so followed along to capture the procession. Everyone carried beautiful palms: tall, intricately woven and laced with flowers to give a stunning appearance. Although there were easily 400 people in the procession, there was no sense of joy. The only music was an accordion following Jesus, his disciples and the local priest, and it was playing a dirge. People were not smiling, which is unusual, and they appeared to want to get it over with.

As an outsider there was no way to figure out what was going on but a friend asked where he could purchase a palm since there was no appearance of local makers on the streets. One could not purchase a palm as they had been distributed by the government! Is there a connection between this gift and the lack of joy? Did people need to be encouraged to attend? Was the priest struggling to fill the church? This day was also the opening of the annual geranium festival so perhaps organizers wanted an impressive event for visitors!

Whatever the explanation, the event left me puzzled.

IMAGES OF CHRIST

Good Friday is almost past, but not without the procession of images of Christ. Two things struck me on observing this event once again. The first is to be reminded of how easily those in the secular West dismiss Christianity (and perhaps all religions). Second, and related, is the importance of this event.

Let’s begin with a brief description. The procession is scheduled to begin at 7:00PM but everyone knows it won’t begin until dusk. Nevertheless, the center of town is virtually shut down from about 6:300 – about 10 square blocks of this pueblo. As vehicles have been removed, people take to the streets, some taking up their positions along the curbs, others just walking perhaps looking for a better viewing place. By the time the procession begins there must be 1,000 (or perhaps 2,000) on the streets. One has the feeling the entire town has turned out for this annual event. The procession begins with the mandatory truck with four police officers with machine guns at the ready and then the Bishop protected by a canopy held by four men (and perhaps the guns) and then a lovely image of Mary (revealing again her importance as the mother of Christ). The main procession consists of a Christ image from every church in town, some very large images taking 8 men to carry and others no more than 15 inches high. One or two images are of Christ in his glass tomb (which fascinates the young children) and others carried on a mat or in a supine position on the cross. Many of the walkers carry candles to suggest that the life of Christ will live on after his death earlier in the day. The procession takes about 30 minutes to pass: There is no band (which is very unusual) and the entire crowd is silent.

Why do people come? Clearly they do not come to see the latest image as little has changed over the years. It is not novelty that brings them out, but the predictable. If we rely on Brandes (1988) analysis we note that there are no masks, suggesting that the main participants are not playing a social role in which individual identity is lost. On this occasion people are truly playing themselves, as are the crowd. We are all participating in collective ritual in which we must see and be seen. We all remind ourselves of our membership (the writer and probably many other westerners present can be excluded from this claim) and this reminder binds members together and provides a collective identity. In a Catholic country this identity is reinforced several times throughout the year, but the events of these few days restate the importance of that membership and provides emotional attachment and feeling of importance. The events of these days make public the very foundations of the group – a belief in Christ, in the story of his crucifixion and resurrection.

By coincidence I read a story in Canada’s national newspaper reporting the dismay of professors of English literature at the growing unawareness of the story of Christianity among their students. This unawareness prevents them from understanding the metaphors, phrases and persons from the Bible that have shaped much of the literature of the West. Some students fail to understand why their professor is frequently talking about Christianity and perhaps see this as bias. However, this story, which has been around for 2000 years (perhaps the only longer surviving story is that of the Jews) has penetrated much of our language and story telling. Perhaps this is part of my dismay at the ease with which the secular west dismisses Christianity. If this same story were encountered while traveling in the darkest (if any such place still exists) of the Amazon, we would marvel and go out of our way to learn more. Now students would rather take a course in the history of rock music than read the Bible or listen to analysis of this old story.

MYSTERY IN A MEXICAN VILLAGE

Stand still! Listen to the church bells. The funeral procession approaching. The fireworks announcing the beginning of a celebration. The sound of the band as a carnival procession approaches your street. Sometime I think I hear something invisible, something I can almost see. Perhaps the spirit, or what others have called the collective conscience or the ties of community bonds.

This invisible something becomes most powerful during certain celebratory events with great community participation. Events such as the celebration of Easter. As a non-Catholics I do not appreciate the religious symbolism and as a member of a secular, individualistic culture I do not fully grasp what is happening. But I do feel emotion rising in my chest as I follow along as a non-member. Following the Palm Sunday celebration with Jesus retaking the walk into the city of Jerusalem followed by his disciples, angels, incense burners and a large group of believers waving palm boughs, one senses a ritual being reenacted for yet another time and probably with many of the same community members involved. Then entering the church to see a full church standing, waving their palm boughs and repeating: Christ is King”, even the non-believer experiences something. What is this?
Observing the story of Jesus’ betrayal, the trial and then sentence by Pilot, the whipping and then the procession to Calvary, again one senses the importance of ritual and not a tourist performance. The actors are all local people and yet the performance is professional, the costumes believable even if you look closely and see the Roman helmets include old broom heads painted gold, the actors give no hint of over acting or of signaling that they feel foolish or are just playing. Then as you watch the procession proceeding with Jesus carrying a large cross and stopping at some of the ‘stations’ one begins to sense the enormity of the undertaking and the emotional power of ritual. Watching the three crosses being raised with Jesus bearing his crown of thorns one again has a strong sense of something mysterious just about to be revealed. But what is it?

During the procession of silence this invisible something again pulls at you. The procession begins as night is about to fall and among other things includes a large image of Jesus carrying the cross or on the cross and a large image of the grieving Mary. The participants in the procession also include young people carrying many of the ritual items – the hammer and nails used for the crucifixion, the dice and vinegar, the crown of thorns, white linens to wrap the body – a group of angels, many groups in barefeet and covering their heads in pointed hats with only holes for their eyes, and a drummer who beats out a mournful sound throughout the procession. Most are dressed in black and carry red candle lights. As the procession winds through the town everything appears to go quiet except for the haunting sound of the drum. On one block on a residential street, every household has adorned the street with pine needles, erected alters, decorated the sidewalks with bows and colorful hoop holding candles. What is it that is in the air? What do I feel?
The resurrection procession is quite different as it now includes a large image of Jesus rising from his burial place and an image of the local Virgin. The music on this occasion is happy and the procession is accompanied by the lighting of colourful fireworks as the group passes each church along the route. The procession culminates in a large outdoor mass and then the ritualistic blowing up of Judas (and perhaps a local politician or two). These last events appear to alleviate the burden of the past three days as people hold their ears during the Judas blasts and dodge the sparkling “foot chasers” let off from the fireworks attached to Judas.
One is drawn to all of these events in part by the spectacle itself but more importantly by the strong representation of collective emotion and community solidarity in paying for and supporting these events. It is the ritual that is important and not the spectacle. The ritual appears to tie people to their community, to their beliefs, and uses emotion to give a sense of identity and belonging. It reminds us of what has been lost in more secular countries where our attempts at widespread participation is turned into a commercial events and the police are required to deal with the drunks. We come away from secular events remembering only the spectacle and not feeling a strong attachment to the community or our neighbors.