Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno
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| Larry Faraon, OP |
My late father died on this day eight years ago, the Feast of the Black Nazarene of Quiapo, Manila. It was not a coincidence, but he was an ardent devotee. In his younger days, we would watch him pack his stuff of a couple of shirts, Spartan rubber shoes and a pair of rugged gloves that he uses to tightly grip the 50-meter long abaca ropes during the long haul and grueling procession on the day itself. He used to be a “mamamasan”—those devotees who carry and pull the carroza of the Black Nazarene along the procession route.
My father’s religious orientation is quite personal and devotional since he despises the hypocrisy of the Sunday church goers in our local parish, seeing the corrupt officials kneeling at the communion rail and the holier-than-thou manangs and senoras who treat their muchachas shabbily if not ruthlessly at home. I never saw him come to Sunday mass despite my mother’s heckling. His first but not the last mass attendance was when I said my first thanksgiving mass as a newly ordained priest — he had to or else my mom would divorce him!.... MORE
Source: The Daily Tribune
URL: http://www.tribuneonline.org/commentary/20110109com6.html
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