The Last Holy Day

Holy week is almost over. Religious say, today Christ has risen from the dead. Today believers rejoice and commuters celebrate the re-opening of LRT II.

There has been not much of a fuzz about this holy week. Not that I know of. pro’ly because I wasn’t really paying attention.

I knew of some people however that did celebrate the holy week. I had a friend gave up computer games for a week and the other went to 14 churches or what they call bisita iglesia. But that’s it. And oh, my brother. He went to an alay-lakad of some sort with his girlfriend. They walked from Pasig to Antipolo church.

I’ve once witnessed it when I was working in Business World for my summer internship back when I was still in school. We covered the SuMaKah festival but unlike the so and so believers, we rode with style on a Ford up to Antipolo. We reached the place just before dawn. I got to interview people about why they go there and what they get from it. Most say it’s part of their life-long panata. Their grandparents and parents of their grandparents did just that and probably their ghrandchildren and the sons of their grandchildren will do just that. It is amazing to know how strong these people believe that walking from Quiapo church to Antipolo church will make their lives easier or will merit them a sure ticket to heaven. It’s faith—a really strong one. I also interviewed one guy who owned a black Nazarene. He said that when people wipe their hankies on the Nazarene’s body it cures them of their diseases and pains. Pathetic as it may sound but a lot of Filipinos believe that. This country is so miracle-inclined that people would kneel before a dancing sun or a gay guy who believes Mary speaks to him. Now I heard that guy had a sex change. Who could blame the people, miracles give hope; hope to the poverish lives the majority populace has.

I am always asked if I believed in God. And as someone who was born Christian, I was always inclined to say yes, I believe in God. In fact I used to be a choir member, I used to go to church every Sunday and did churchly stuff. My parents are strong believers as well. I just don’t know what happened with me, why I slowly fall off from that faith. Pro’ly because I had too many questions about religion, about the faith, about God.

One thing I never forgot though is praying—not for myself but for the well-being of my family. You see, even if you don’t believe in God, it is human nature to believe in something. Something where you can draw strength from; something higher that all of us; something up there. Whatever or whoever it is, I don’t care. I’ll just keep on praying.