Saturday, April 3, 2010

Theology of Brokenness

At an improvised foothill in San Pedro Cutud, a barangay of San Fernando City, ended what I thought was a parade of hope and a procession of devotees, perhaps, scarred from too many broken dreams.

As they moved towards the cross in this man made Calvary, with wounded flesh and spilled blood along the designated pathway to Cutud, devotees bowed to the cross and prayed to Christ Jesus – the Son of God who covenanted to embrace sinners in their brokenness and sinfulness if they believe.

Even as hundreds of devotees trooped to the foothill in a dramatic procession, self-flagellating and inducing blood by having their skin cut five to seven times in a four-hour ordeal to the foothill, ten penitents had themselves nailed to the cross, hands and feet, and screamed the pain of life – for real or for show.

What theology does that devotion manifest? Foreigners were awed at the bravery and daringness of the devotees and penitents. Some, whose cultures demanded economic significance of every deed, wondered what these sacrifices led up to. My seatmate in one of the tents could not find any meaningful value to the drama and hurriedly left.

A Baptist author explains that theology is defined as faith seeking understanding. If it is, then this annual rite may be labeled as the theology of broken spirits or broken dreams rightfully dramatized with real blood from flagellation and the cutting of the flesh with broken glasses and three-inch nail.

How else can one express the anguish of poverty borne out of a social system without being locked up? To these devotees and penitents, it is faith to God who promised to embrace and heal their brokenness. To them, this faith is best demonstrated through a ritual that punishes the flesh with prayer at the foothill as a form of closure – until next year.

Fernando Ferrer, 24 years old and in his second year as a criminology student, was a flagellant on Holy Thursday. Showing his day-old wounds that looked totally healed, he has vowed to join the annual rite as an expression of his faith in Christ Jesus amid his poverty and imperfection with a pervent hope that someday, he will be liberated from this grinding poverty and broken dreams.

Calling me Tatay in the beginning and later Kuya through the hours that he guided me, I saw in him a picture of his faith – honest, respectful and friendly. Perhaps, this is the best argument for his theology and the theology of all the other devotees in this annual rite.

A Filipino author wrote about the theology of the inarticulate suggesting that the poor Filipinos, the inarticulate, have evolved a theology, an expression of faith, which may not be appreciated by the articulate but which have kept them upright and Christ-like.

A van Aarde argues that 'public theology' is an alternative to mainstream theology saying that schooled priests and pastors do not have the exclusive rights of doing theology. “The practice of theology is to be found in both the professional academy and in the public square.” He says that in its core, “public theology” is seen as the inarticulate longing of believers who do not want to belong.

I salute the thousands who wounded their flesh as a way to express their faith. Also the 20 or so brave souls who had their flesh pierced as a way to articulate the pain of brokenness. Amen.