Something I Hadn’t THought About
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Hello everyone! Kumusta ka!
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Seriously, it’s been a while. How are you?
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I took January off to work on a couple potential limited run seasons for Hugot Podcasting. And on that front, the concept I was initially going to launch with is getting pushed back because maybe it could be grant funded which feels like a win for a culture whose tales are often ignored. You know, having a prestigious organization potentially throw money at one. So now, I’ve got an audio show in development. Hopefully, I can have a trailer for it by the next episode, which would mean the launch date could be in April because the trailer tends to be the last thing I do…. Which is super bad because I need that to publish the RSS feed and get that distributed, but that’s something I’ll worry about later.
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Seriously, I’ll worry about it later probably because, dear audience, you did not come for administrative updates. You came for tidbits about Filipino culture, answered questions you have from your own experiences, or just to revisit things you had always taken for granted. And today, I’ve got something that fits in those categories perfectly: Hesus Nazareno or the Black Nazarene.
And you might not realize that this is something worth discussing. Because if you have seen images of the Black Nazarene, you can immediately identify it as an image of Jesus with a darker complexion than what you normally see. And you would be right. Nazarene refers to Nazareth in Galilee where Jesus Christ was born. So it seems like, at first glance, this is just another image of Jesus.
But the Black Nazarene actually has its own place in Filipino culture, as I learned recently when it suddenly appeared on my social media feeds from family celebrating this icon on both New Year’s Eve and January 9th. Two of the three special days when the image is brought out of its shrine in the Minor Basilica of the Black Nazarene in Manila for processions. The third time being Good Friday, the feast of the Passion of the Christ that the Black Nazarene depicts a moment of.
It is regularly venerated on Fridays though, which seems to be a callback to older liturgical traditions within the Catholic faith. Pre-Vatican II, every Friday had a twinge of that sense of mourning in a similar way that every Sunday is seen as a celebration commemorating the Resurrection. The tradition evolved, and holding Friday has a day of reverence and mild austerity has lost some of its common placeness. Now Friday has blended in with the rest of the week as just another weekday service rather than being a weekly reminder of the Crucifixion to pair with Sunday’s Resurrection. But through this particular image of Christ, the Philippines has held onto the tradition, a tradition that has, let me remind you, otherwise faded away in the rest of the Catholic world.
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And there’s some irony in that considering there has been some debate about whether the veneration of the Black Nazarene constitutes actually a case of idolatry, specifically a form of idolatry that uses Catholic imagery to mask pre-Christian practices.
The argument manifests in a few different ways, but it does boil down to this: Filipinos seem to be over fixated on the image itself, focusing on the physical image and consequently overlooking the larger theological framework or what the Black Nazarne is meant to represent. This is particularly because the relationship Filipinos have with the Black Nazarene can be seen as a very physical one, what with its being brought out into the people as a major crux of that connection.
Which, to me, did not make great sense as an argument, so if I oversimplified it here, that’s why. To me, the idea that an image of the divine being integrated into life in such a personal way could be blasphemous is outright absurd. I just don’t see how an image of the divine could undercut the thing it represents so simply and matter-of-factly. Just having and appreciating an image doesn’t make idolatry. Which is what the argument sounds like to me. The argument here is that the obsession with the image elevates the image itself to a divine status rather than just being a link to the divine.
And it turns out, I’m not alone in this skepticism. The monsignor of the Basilica’s district Jose Clemente Ignacio sees the Filipino devotion to the image as a reflection of the people’s larger relationship with the divine and maybe with everything in their lives. Filipinos just have a more physical one than what outsiders are likely used to. There is a cultural desire to touch or kiss sacred objects because of a belief in the Divine being present in those objects. The same sort of belief that underlies the Catholic belief in the Eucharist and the transfiguration.
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But I’m getting a bit too carried away in a discussion that could have been my college thesis if I was allowed to write more than one, as in one for each of my major, and in hindsight I’m pretty glad someone stopped me from doing that. But once again that’s not the point.
Maybe you do know what I’m talking about when I say the Black Nazarene or an image of Jesus Christ with a darker complexion than usual. Maybe when you saw it, you just thought it was an image of Jesus made from a darker wood or treated with some sort of lacquer. Therefore, it wasn’t technically anything special. And in a sense, you are right.
The original image was made by an anonymous Mexican sculptor in 1606 from a dark mesquite wood, a popular medium at the time it was made, though traditional accounts have tried to explain the coloring as a charring or coating from votive candles left burning in front of the image.
And to further jog your memory, taking it beyond just beyond the color of Christ’s skin. The Black Nazarene wears a braided wig made of dyed abaca and includes the crown of thorns, but in this case a golden crown, and on that crown are the traditional three powers in halo form. The Tres Potencias of the Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The style of these rays are recurring themes in Filipino and Hispanic iconography.
And true to the agony of the Crucifixion and march to the cross, the barefoot image is shown kneeling or genuflecting, brought down by the agony of His suffering and weight of the Cross.
But this garments are truly royal. The image is dressed in heavy velvet tunics of maroon with floral emblems made of gold with lace collars and cuffs. The King of Kings, as it were, still retains His status despite the agony of His crusade. True to the strong theological underpinnings in the depiction.
Which is probably at least partially why, despite the previously mentioned controversies surrounding the love the Filipino people have for the image, it was approved by Pope Innocent X in 1650 as a sacramental image. And he also authorised the Confraternity of the Most Holy Jesus Nazarene. But that’s off topic.
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There is some theological discussion to be had surrounding the Black Nazarene and where it falls into the Filipino consciousness that I admit is going to be super hard to cite partially because these are things I remember studying in college but not what text I was studying at the time. And these are also general observations about the Catholic faith and colonialism and also aspects of Jose Rizal’s work and the truths about Filipino society that he presented within them.
So with all of that said, I do want to make it very clear that I fully admit that there are assertions in the following section that might require citations in your mind, that I’m not going to be able to provide. It’s not that I don’t take the rules of academic research seriously. It’s that I’m somewhat limited by the fact that these things have integrated themselves into my world view in a way that I cannot easily parse out. But I hope you can still somewhat follow my logic.
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So okay, let’s start with this statement: The Black Nazarene is an image of the suffering Christ (pause). That’s not controversial at all. I mean, the Crucifixion being a case of brutal suffering is pretty theologically apparent. Or just apparent. Let’s take it out of theology. But the religious veneration of the Black Nazarene is likely tied to all that this particular image of Christ is. And I don’t just mean the complexion which often comes up in discussions on idolatry but is still somewhat relevant in this section.
So let me say it again: the fact that the Black Nazarene is an image of Christ in his suffering is likely why Filipinos are so drawn to the image. And let me explain.
Whether it be a carryover of colonialism entirely or an exasperation of the common observation that those with wealth could be paler than those without because they didn’t have to labor in the fields themselves and could pay someone to do it in their place, it’s hard to know where one ends and one begins, in the Philippines and in other countries in the reason, there is still a lingering cultural preferences for a paler complexion. It’s in the media, cosmetic stores, and my goddaughter’s insecurities. To be pale is essentially to be one of the few on the higher tier in society, and there’s always--or almost always--a tier higher than you.
In most cases, this would be an advantage. This helps you get ahead or stay ahead. Or live a comfortable life. But there is one glaring exception to this idea that those better endowed are better off. And that is Christianity.
Catholicism, or Christianity more broadly, has always been a religion for the meek and lowly when it comes to doctrine. Whether it be economically, politically, or socially or at the intersection of all these things, the Christian story speaks to the disenfranchised not otherwise specified.
Take its savior, Jesus Christ, born in a manager to a young couple travelling for a census dictated by an outside power that had conquered their homeland, who was conceived by not by the conquering of His Mother by a Deity but by her consent and willingness to enter into the Divine Plan. Jesus Christ, then, did not swoop down and destroy tyrants, but submitted Himself to the seemingly worst iteration of the Divine plan when His well-being is considered. He’s the Messiah of the Jewish tradition, and the Old Testament tells countless tales of misfortune and lost wars. I mean, at the time, they were subject of Rome which wasn’t a great thing to be.
And then there’s the whole Sermon of the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew. The “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.”
According to Nietzche, and this one I do know the book, it was in his work The Antichrist, Christrianity is a subversive religion. It twisted the otherwise instinctual values of strength and domination in order to exult the class of people Jesus found himself in: the not wealthy, not citizens of a giant and often cruel empire. And this is most apparent in the Crucifixion. The Messiah is hung on the cross by the Romans, and yet still somehow had to make it a victory. If the outsider won, like in this model, then those outside of an established social order or at least the dominating class had to be in the right. That had to be the place to be.
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For colonized or even enslaved people, this aspect of the Christian narrative could be more than a little pretty appealing. It could draw people into a religion that otherwise had no sway over them because of who brought it over. But in the face of those who hurt them, this religion offered the assurance that those who harmed them would get a comeuppance and that those who suffered in this life would ultimately be rewarded in the next.
And all of that happened independent of personal merit. I.e. it was the literal Son of God was that was Crucified. So if you are constantly being berated by those higher up in the social ladder than you, it’s easier to believe that their words matter than it is to challenge the narrative you are constantly hearing.
The Black Nazarene plays into that for all that it is. In this way, the Black Nazarene fits into the Filipino identity in a very specific and important way. Particularly when it comes to the intense relationship Filipinos have with Catholicism, that is something that I definitely need to unpack, but another time.
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And all of that makes for a segue into a reminder about Hugot Podcasting. Which will hopefully have a more official launch with a line-up of content sometime soon. But for now, this show is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. If you like the show, consider leaving a review or following us on Twitter @miscellanymedia or @hugotpodcasting for updates on more content like this. Thanks.
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Sources:
Sison, Antonio D. (2015). "Afflictive Apparitions: The Folk Catholic Imaginary in Philippine Cinema". Material Religion. Routledge. 11 (4): 421–442.
Jaime C. Laya (2001). Letras Y Figuras. Manila: Anvil. pp. 89–90. ISBN 978-971-27-1143-5.
Elizabeth H. Pisares (1999). Daly City is My Nation: Race, Imperialism and the Claiming of Pinay / Pinoy Identities in Filipino American Culture. University of California Press. p. 58. OCLC 43832108