After my last Easter in the Philippines when I was a teenager, I don’t think I will be able to look at holy week the same ever again. They way the people in the area where I lived celebrate Easter and Holy week is unlike anything I had ever seen.
The entire week long many Filipino men literally beat their own backs bloody, as they take long walks to mass. Before they start the beatings, they cut slits in their backs with razor blades so it will bleed more freely when they begin hitting themselves.
Some cary crosses, and still others choose to wait until good Friday and crucify themselves. I have walked next to these people, I have watched 6 men willingly get crucified (they each hung for a few minutes before being let down again, no one died). I have seen teenage boys, dear friends of mine, bearing the self-inflicted scars of beating on their backs.
Even now I can think back and vividly see in my mind the brutality of it, as I got close enough to some to talk to them, to ask them why they would do this.
The answer that I was given by each person I asked was simply “we do it for lessening of sins”.
Not forgiveness even, just lessening.
They beat themselves, torture their own bodies hoping that God will see and lessen whatever punishment they know they have coming.
These thoughts still cut to my heart so deeply, as this is a people that I love, even though I haven’t been in the Philippines for years.
The point of what Christ did on the cross, is that we don’t have to be punished. We don’t have to punish ourselves because He bore our punishment for us. He didn’t have to, but he CHOSE to bear much more punishment and shame than we could ever inflict with a whip to our own backs. And when he was crucified it lasted much longer than the 90 or so seconds I watched those 6 men hang, screaming in agony until they were let down again and rushed to the hospital in a waiting taxi.
I have learned much from this tragedy.
Standing and watching as some one is beaten in front of your eyes, it changes you.
Watching their blood splatter as they are hit repeatedly with a whip made of bamboo and strings. Standing close enough to them that their blood splattered my clothing and feet.
Watching as men are nailed to a cross and lifted up for the city to see. Hearing his wails and seeing the hush fall over the crowd as each person wonders how long he can endure.
These are images that will never be erased from my memory. Watching this brutality occur to because these men believe it to be necessary.
Because they think they have to pay their own debt.
I saw what they were doing, and although my heart broke for their pain, a part of me knows deep inside that I deserve that, and so much worse. It breaks me too, because I know I don’t have to endure what I am due because Christ already did.
God in the form of Christ choosing to take the punishment that should have been my own. It rocks me to my core because I can still hear the whips in my mind from those days in the Philippines so long ago. I can still feel the blood splattered against me and remember how I felt as I watched it stain my clothing, and how I was never quite able to wash the drops of blood from my jeans.
At the end of that day, these men were still recognizable. They went home to their families, sore and bleeding, but known.
And then I remember how the Bible tells us that Christ was unrecognizeable his beating was so awful.
I can’t picture it. I’m scared to even try to imagine the beating he endured.
But I am thankful. Broken, but thankful. That a Holy God would come down to earth, humble, and serve us. And love us. And take punishment that was intended for us, so that we could be right before God.
I can still hear the whips, but my mind can’t fathom the greatness of this sacrifice. Every time I remember, it brings me to tears.
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This post is intentionally photo free, although they did allow me to take pictures of what I saw there. This is a link to photos that I took during my time in the Philippines that Holy Week, if you want to see them. They are quite brutal, and not for the faint of heart (lots of blood). I would not suggest looking at them if you have a child nearby or peering over your shoulder… Photos
Kristen says
Wow this was such a moving post. . . Thank you for your words, I had no idea this was happening around the world.
futurehope says
before I was there I didn’t either! It was so shocking to me, still breaks my heart :(
Nicole says
I will admit, I did not look at the photos. I don’t think I would do well with that. That is very sad what they do over there- I pray that the Lord will truly touch their lives and release them from that. Thank you for sharing. -Nicole at Working Kansas Homemaker
futurehope says
thanks for commenting! I’m checking out your blog now !:)
futurehope says
thank you for praying for them!
I don’t blame you for not looking at the pictures! A part of me wishes I didn’t have those images permanently in my mind, but the other part is glad they are there, so I will never forget and it will always remind me of 1. God’s sacrifice for us and 2. to pray for them and the other lost people in the world!
Sarah @ International Blessings says
Wow, this is so sad. I have been to the Philippines as well, but I think I’m glad I didn’t go during Holy week. That would be SO hard to watch, especially since it is not necessary! Yet, it also reminds us of the sacrifice that Jesus took for us. It’s so easy for Easter weekend to become overwhelmed in chocolate bunnies, and easter egg hunts, that we somehow forget the true reason for celebrating Easter. Thank you for sharing. . .