QUIAPO CHURCH

I’m not a religious person but every so often, I stop by and visit a church; not so much to hear mass, but to seek respite. The tranquil cavernous ambience of a church is, indeed, conducive for quieting one's mind. Lately, it has been Quiapo Church for me, but definitely not on Fridays. It’s mobbed.

Quiapo Church is walking distance from the university belt area where I sometimes play badminton. The bustling commercial area that surrounds it is where I also buy my shuttlecocks at a sporting goods store over at Raon Street (now Gil Puyat Street). In the midst of numerous stores that offer affordable prices from electronics to native handicrafts, are the street vendors who sell candles, sampaguita garlands, amulets and herbal cures for a wide variety of ailments (and also from what I was whispered, cannabis).

The church itself is home to the famed Black Nazarene, a dark hardwood statue of Jesus of Nazareth. It was created by a Mexican craftsman and brought via galleon from Mexico in the 18th century. This statue is taken out of the church and paraded during its feast. Many believe that those who pray to it are granted special favors and miracles. It isn’t unusual, therefore, to see some devotees crawling on their knees from the entrance to the altar as if humbly and earnestly begging for a miracle. However, for the hurried or those overburdened with life’s daily grind, inside the church at the back, sitting on plastic stools are the women — prayer warriors — who will pray on their behalf if requested.

Everyone has a wish to make. I do, too. And I breathe life into it through my self-created ritual — burning of a candle. But inside Quiapo Church, you are no longer allowed to burn candles as a measure, I suppose, to preserve its interiors. So what I do is buy candles from one of the vendors outside. Their portable stands also provide metal boxes where the customers may light and burn these candles. In New York, one of my favorite churches, St. Francis near Madison Square Garden, much to my dismay, replaced their votive candles with electric bulbs — you slip in your contribution and then turn on a switch. However, the scent of burning candles adds to the divine ambience of a church, I think.

Burning three candles has become a personal ritual whenever I visit a church. One is to breathe life to the wishes that remain unfulfilled not only the wish made by me but also those by friends and families. Second is to honor the memory of loved ones who had passed away and whose guidance I sometimes seek. Third is to symbolize my unity with everyone on the planetary and spiritual plane, as well as ultimately with the higher creative force, I refer to as God.

During these gloomy rainy days in Manila — when these opportunistic blues seem better able to sneak in unknowingly — there’s no better way for me to spend a few minutes of some free time than to visit Quiapo Church and light some candles.