In Guatemala the forty days leading up to Easter is called the Cuaresma, or what we would call in the US, Lent. The traditions for the celebration of this solemn time, though, could not be more different. While my experience with the Catholic commemoration of this time tends to be spiritually serious and somewhat solemn (albeit, many churches do host Friday night fish-fries which can be quite raucous), these forty days are truly celebrated in Guatemala.
It’s taken some getting used to for me to appreciate anything about the processions and church celebrations here, but living here has helped me better understand the heart of some of those participating in these festivities. For some here, it is a time of great superstition and ritual importance. For others, however, I have come to see that their involvement in the vigils (velaciones) and processions grow out of a deep and abiding love for Jesus and gratitude for what He has done in gaining their salvation.
My friend, Daryl Fulp, put this into some perspective for me when he reminded me of our “celebration of the Easter bunny” and I remembered one particular Easter worship in my own evangelical church in the US where the bunny made a rather abrupt appearance in our service, ruining a particularly spirit-filled time of worship. I guess we all blow it, sometimes, in our attempts to merge the secular with the sacred.
So this year, I’ve resolved to open myself up to what God has for me during this season. And I’d like to share with you some of what He’s revealed to me (or at least I think He has!).
Cuaresma
Each weekend during Lent, a velacion (vigil) is held in a different church around Antigua. These begin on Friday night, and culminate in a procession on Sunday. The church hosting the procession and vigil is decorated to commemorate a Biblical teaching or event. One I visited this year portrayed the resurrection of Christ, another the last judgment. The entire church is rearranged to accommodate the display, and an elaborate alfombra or carpet is constructing in front of the display using flowers, fruits, vegetables and saw dust. The atmosphere inside the church was reverent and people struggled through the crowd to get close to the display.
These amazing renderings of Jesus and the Lamb of God are done entirely with flower petals.
Outside, the tone is quite different on Friday and Saturday, with a street festival taking place in the church square. The rich aroma of street food pervades the area, and there are a multitude of people selling trinkets and cheap toys for the children. This is like an American carnival, without the rides!
Semana Santa
Workers carrying palms into Antigua in preparation for Palm Sunday.
Holy Week starts on Palm Sunday and runs through Easter Sunday and the folks in Antigua, Guatemala cram a lot into that week with dozens of processions at all hours of the day and night and thousands of participants of all ages. The processions often overlap and traffic comes to a stand still throughout the week. If you are planning on going anywhere from Wednesday through Saturday, chances are you won’t make it, or it will take you literally hours to get through the city. Streets become parking lots!
The religious processions are organized and
carried out by the brotherhoods, made up of
either men, women, or even children. These
brotherhoods are responsible for planning and
orchestrating the vigil as well as the procession
for their church. Each church carries it’s own
distinctive statues (some dating back to the
17th Century) through the streets during the
procession, with the most famous being that of
Jesus the Nazarene, and the Sorrowful Mother
(Mary).
Each procession leaves its church, usually led by incense carriers, and the banner of the particular brotherhood. Cucuruchus, or carriers, dressed in purple or black robes, will take turns carrying the anda, or platform carrying the statue, for about a block at
a time. At each corner, a new group of
carriers takes over, since it is difficult to carry
these heavy platforms (some weighing up to
7000 lbs.) while walking in synchronized
cadence.
People participate in these processions for varied reasons. The best explanation was given me by Leo, Jr. (a son in “my” Guatemalan family) who participates in some of the processions. He says, “Some people think that God forgives their sins if they walk [in the procession]. That’s not true. God forgives us when we are sorry and ask forgiveness. Me, I walk, to show my gratitude to Jesus for all He has done for me. It’s what little I can do.”
Leo Jr. and his son, Alejandro
Alfombras
In addition to the alfombras constructed in the churches during the velaciones, carpets are also constructed along the processional routes each weekend. Varying from simple to extremely elaborate, these are generally constructed by the families living along the procession route. The construction is timed so as to be completed just before the procession arrives, so the alfombra is at its best.
Sand or sawdust is generally used to level the cobblestone roadway. Sawdust is then collected and dyed in different colors. Favorite colors are purple, green, blue, red, yellow and black. Flowers such as bougainvillea, chrysanthemums, carnations, roses and other native plants and pine needles are also used.
Immediately after the procession passes these beautiful street “paintings” are swept into garbage trucks and taken away. I’ve come to think of them as “performance art” designed in many cases solely out of devotion to God. It still pains my heart to see these beautiful works of art so roughly discarded, though.
Reflections
By no stretch of the imagination am I an expert on these ancient traditions. Nor can I say I am particularly comfortable with the ritual and symbolism of many of the things done during this time.
Talking with my Guatemalan Catholic friends about the celebrations this year, I’ve come to a little bit of a better understanding of all of this. I’ve discovered, for instance, that not all the processions or celebrations are sanctioned by the church. This includes the ones which in the past I have considered bizarre and even demonic. Yes, there is a large intermingling of Catholic and Maya traditions, but many of those who participate in these ceremonies seem to have the right motive, even if I would disagree strongly with some of their doctrine. I’m still wrestling with what this means. . .but find if I talk about Jesus, rather than dogma, we find a lot more common ground. Often, it seems, the blending is due to lack of proper instruction rather than a firm commitment. I’ve been so happy to find that most Guatemalans, if I talk with them about what the Bible says, are open to sharing.
What I have come away from this Lent with is a somewhat embarrassing conviction of how little preparation and reflection I have put into my own celebration of the Resurrection many years. If nothing else, experiencing Lent in Guatemala, I have been more aware of my own role in Christ’s crucifixion, and cling more tightly to the promise of the Resurrection. And that’s a good thing. . .
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