By GIAN GERONIMO
JENNY Silahis is a penitent who has been involved in the practice of self-flagellation for over 20 years now as part of the penitensiya, or public penance, during Holy Week.
His initial reason for undergoing penitensiya was to ask for a healthy and blessing-filled life for himself. When he had his own family, he added to his panata, or religious vow, prayers for his family.
But in 2008 Silahis’ wife and his children left him. In the Holy Week that followed, he joined group of men in Taytay, Rizal who undergo self-flagellation during Good Friday.
“(I did it) in the hopes that my family will return,” said Silahis in Filipino. “And I get to see my children again.”
Holy Week, the last week of the Lenten Season when Christians commemorate the last days of Jesus Christ on earth, is a time of great importance in the Philippines, a Catholic-dominated nation. Some observe this period through practices such as Visita Iglesia (visiting seven churches) and Pabasa (the life, death and resurrection of Christ sung). Some, however, take a more radical route and choose to experience for themselves the suffering Christ endured, thus the penitensiya.
These people, mostly men, walk the streets during Holy Week under the heat of the sun, and subject themselves to pain by lashing their backs with instruments such as chains or bamboo.
They go on with their penitence with a panata; meaning, the pain they go through will be done in exchange for a request from God either for themselves or for both them and their loved ones.
But despite the repeated warnings of the health department on the health risks involved and the Church’s disapproval of these harmful ways of professing faith, many like Silahis choose to suffer in this painful manner.
“I know the Church does not approve of what we are doing,” Vic Naelga said. “But what we do is right in the eyes of God.”
Naelga, a 67-year-old retired porter, has been doing self-flagellation since he was a teenager. Now too old to participate in penitensiya, Naelga guides the younger members of the group to continue the practice.
Seeking grace, atoning for sins
Silahis and Naelga, along with a group of men, are members of the Samahan ng mga Namamanata sa Birhen Dolores, a group based in Taytay. They all practice self-flagellation during the Holy Week and are a common sight in town.
They can be seen in the streets and in processions from Holy Thursday to Good Friday, masked and hitting their backs with chains, before opening the welts with a razor (called pangkidlit), after which they repeat the process all over again.
Last Friday, they made their final appearance for the year as they joined the Amba Procession in Taytay. This procession is also known as the Santo Entierro or “holy burial” procession in other towns that commemorate it.
In this procession, the dead figure of Christ, in repose and encased in a glass coffin is hauled by men through ropes from the Taytay parish, then around town, and back to the church again, similar to what is done in Quiapo during the Feast of the Black Nazarene. Thousands of the town’s residents watch or join the procession, which starts at 5 p.m. and ends at around 9 in the evening.
All of them have their stories, but what binds them is the panata involved in committing themselves to endure the pain of penitensiya.
Carlos Bernardino, 41, a welder, started self-flagellating for his family’s health and safety. He is in his seventh year in doing the practice and plans to continue this penitence until he becomes incapacitated to do so.
Bernardino brushed off the dangers involved in self-flagellating. “It’s all about faith. Faith lang ‘yan,” he said. Besides, he said he doesn’t mind the pain much. “This is my belief. I don’t apply medication or anything at all (after penitensiya).”
A father of twin sons, Bernardino said he won’t mind if his children would be willing to continue the practice when they grow up. “It’s a possibility,” he said. “I’ll ask them if they want to do it, and if they do, why not?”
Ariel Tambioco, 36 and also in his seventh year of undergoing self-flagellation, admitted that the process is painful.
“But it is heartfelt, and it is for God, so you need to accept what you feel, the baking sun, the wounds,” he said.
Armand Caballas, 24 and so far the youngest of the group, began self-flagellating when he was 21 years old. He described himself as being far away from God when he was younger, and upon realizing he wanted to change, as well as wanting to sacrifice for his family, ventured into self-flagellation.
Asked about the pain, the thin Caballas said in Filipino, “I don’t really think about those things. Namamanata ako, eh.”
The practitioners of self-flagellation evidently have no qualms on the way they chose to show their devotion. Instead of going to confession or mass, these people chose to lash themselves and try to mimic the trials and tribulations Christ faced as he was nearing his final hours on earth.
From the word itself, penitensiya, the act is of attempting to redeem one’s self to God in order to show repentance. People engage themselves in self-flagellation because they want to show how sorry they are for things they did in the past.
Their way of showing faith is remarkable, albeit radical and unorthodox.
“We just pray that we are blessed by God and strengthened by this experience,” Tambioco said.
Three years have passed since Silahis’ family left him, and still he continues his penitence, praying that his panata will be heard and granted and he will eventually see his wife and children again.
“But even if they do not return, I made a vow,” he said. “Itutuloy at itutuloy ko ito (I will continue).”
(Gian Geronimo is a student of the University of the Philippines interning at VERA Files.)
