Holy Week gives everyone in the Philippines a multi-day break – a curious mix of worldly indulgence and religious traditions that are slowly fading away.The season also highlights just how far Filipino Catholicism has drifted from the more subdued, diluted version practiced in Europe.
Today, about 85% of the population, most of whom belong to various Christian denominations, begin to celebrate a traditional Filipino Holy Week with all its flavors, including the more intense ones.
When People Celebrate, Blood Flows
Holy Week (Mahal na Araw) is the most important religious event of the year, and commemorates the suffering and crucifixion, while Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus.
Filipino Holy Week still carries a strong dose of pre-colonial pagan influences from before Spanish rule, so its theological purity doesn’t quite match that of the more polished European versions. On top of that, Filipinos tend to focus far more on Christ’s suffering than on the resurrection.
The season is preceded by a 40-day Lenten period known as Kuwaresma. In theory, you’re supposed to fast from everything, but these days most families limit their sacrifice to avoiding meat. In a national cuisine built almost entirely on meat, that alone qualifies as a passion play. Kuwaresma begins on Ash Wednesday and culminates on Easter.
The climax of Holy Week is the remembrance of Christ’s bloody crucifixion, dramatized in Senakulo performances. Sins are atoned for through proper suffering – not through chocolate eggs, pastel decorations, or polite seasonal desserts.
A Glimpse of the Sacred
Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday (Linggo ng Palaspas), when devout believers – and the spiritually awakened once-a-year types – carry palm fronds to church to be blessed by priests. To minimize cleanup, the blessing often takes place outside churches, in parking lots, or at makeshift outdoor blessing stations. The blessed leaves are taken home and placed on altars, doors, and windows to ward off demons, disease, and other unpleasant surprises.
Wednesday (Miyerkules Santo) is officially the last working day before the holiday stretch, though many employers allow their workers to leave early. In parts of Southern Luzon and the Ilocos region, the first Senakulo plays and processions depicting Christ’s suffering begin.
Maundy Thursday (Huwebes Santo) is the first official holiday. In larger cities, processions fill the streets, with statues of saints carried on elaborately decorated floats lit by candles and adorned with flowers.
It’s also the traditional day for confession – time to settle accounts for the year’s sins. Churches stay open all night because the backlog of human wrongdoing simply cannot be processed during regular business hours.
Good Friday (Biyernes Santo)
Good Friday is the peak of Holy Week – the holiest day – when much of the population now gathers in front of their televisions instead of in churches. It’s also the one day of the year when major cities are nearly free of traffic.
The streets aren’t entirely empty, however. Groups of bloodied men can be seen walking around, whipping and cutting themselves as an act of penance or devotion.
In the afternoon, people gather in darkened churches, at crucifixion sites of Senakulo plays, or at home to observe the hour of Christ’s death – the ninth hour, traditionally understood as 3 p.m. (time zones hadn’t been invented yet, so no need to nitpick).
The Senakulo dramas reach their emotional climax, after which people wipe crosses and church altars with cloths and handkerchiefs – bringing home not only a fragment of holiness but likely a few viruses as well.
There’s also an alternative way to mark Good Friday: some villagers – nowadays including women – head into remote mountains and isolated places to pray and to reflect on life’s deeper spiritual questions.
The Lenten Climax
According to the Gospels, on Holy Saturday (Sabado de Gloria), Jesus lay dead in his tomb. Evil forces are believed to roam freely, causing all sorts of trouble. Filipino households, however, remain well-protected – as long as they have blessed palm leaves and altar-touched cloths on hand.
Along the coasts, families and friends head to the beach. They rent huts, cook meals, socialize, drink, and sing karaoke. Children play in the water, although swimming before Easter Sunday is traditionally discouraged.
By late evening, the fasting period typically ends. Malls, shops, and restaurants reopen. Meat lovers rejoice – burgers, pizzas, and all things carnivorous return to the table.
On Easter Sunday (Linggo ng Pagkabuhay), it’s time to return to church. Processions form, with men following images of Jesus and women following images of the Virgin Mary. In some areas, a statue of the mourning Virgin (Mater Dolorosa) is brought before the church and transformed into Nuestra Señora de Alegría – Our Lady of Joy – by dramatically removing her black veil as bells ring and confetti rains down.
The Most Extreme Traditions
Now to the main attraction – the part Filipino Holy Week is known for worldwide: crucifixions, where penitents portray Jesus. Participants believe that being crucified helps atone for sins, brings miraculous healing, or expresses gratitude for blessings received.
The most well-known location for these events is Pampanga province, particularly the village of San Pedro Cutud in San Fernando City, about an hour from Manila.
Participants are hoisted onto crosses and left hanging for several minutes, with nails driven through their palms – and sometimes their feet. The process runs like an assembly line: up on the cross, nails in, down for first aid, next Jesus up. Those who don’t walk away miraculously healed are transported to the local hospital.
The Catholic Church once strongly opposed these practices and managed to shut them down for decades. But local authorities in Pampanga considered them part of cultural heritage and successfully overturned the ban in 1962.
In 2015, San Fernando banned foreign tourists from participating, to prevent the spectacle from turning into a full-blown international freak show. During the COVID pandemic, crucifixions paused for a few years due to restrictions. Now, the blood is flowing again – and with plenty of willing participants, it’s not stopping anytime soon.
Opportunity Makes a Jesus
I went through my own crucifixion back in 1995, just south of Puerto Princesa, at a place called Calvary Hill. I got the chance to hang on a cross when local priests organizing a Senakulo began seeing visions and noticing uncanny similarities between traditional depictions of Jesus and me. Back then, my hair and beard were much longer, in line with the prevailing “Jesus look”.
The local production had run into a credibility crisis: for a few years, they had been forced to use a plastic dummy due to a shortage of volunteer Jesuses. When the priests invited me to step in, it sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime experience – so I took the offer and climbed up.
My crucifixion followed the “light Jesus” method. The cross, carved from narra wood, had a small platform to stand on. My arms were tied to the crossbeam with soft cotton bindings – no nails or extreme measures involved. Two boys dressed as Roman soldiers occasionally poked my ribs with bamboo sticks tipped with sponges soaked in chicken blood.
I marinated on the cross for about half an hour in the blazing afternoon heat. There was even some real pain involved as my shoulders began cramping. I wouldn’t recommend the experience – hanging on a cross is surprisingly exhausting.
Secular Drift
The Philippines has been rapidly secularizing, and the decline in religious tradition is especially visible during Holy Week. As recently as the late 1990s, Holy Week was a deeply felt and actively practiced cultural ritual. Since then, it has gradually faded into just another long weekend – spent relaxing at home or visiting relatives in the provinces.
Many Holy Week rituals have lost their connection to their original meaning. What were once vibrant religious dramas and emotional ceremonies have thinned out into something bland and hollow – Like a dessert that looks right but doesn’t taste the same as before.
And yet – because of that, and despite it all – I wish you a blessed Holy Week and happy Easter.
