Holy Week 2007

For the most part of the Holy Week (and a few days before that), it seems that all I ever heard was excited chatter about going to Boracay, Palawan, or Puerto Galera. Nary a mention of abstinence, sacrifice, or Christ. Cheesy, I know. And the last thing you would expect from me.

I grew up with the nuns in my all-girls' school in the province. But going to church was never something my dysfunctional family did. Yet in the sweltering hot days of Holy Week, trapped as I was where I had to be, there was nothing else to do but let each Holy day roll past. If I close my eyes, I can see it very clearly. Dusty, deserted subdivision roads awash in yellow wavery heat with undulating voices of old crones permeating all frequencies. The minutes ticked by slowly and every minute of it, I wished I was somewhere else. Excitement was brought on by a religious movie on the few network stations there were at the time, or the passing of brown bodies dripping blood for penance.

But now that I have every convenience and luxury - my Internet and pc, cable, dvds, celfons, and a swimming party, I can't help but feel that something is wrong. And I can't help but think, some suffering IS good for the soul. Holy Week is the time to look inside of oneself and see that the path we have chosen is the path we can live with. It's a time to think, pray, and meditate.

And I hope that by the end of it, you and I have done a little bit of that...