Good Friday

We had talked to our friends in our village about the traditional ceremonies that happen in the cultural center for Holy Week.  From what we gleaned, we figured Friday would be the best time to go take a look.  As soon as our friends found out we were heading down, our vehicle started filling up!

Two of our friends went with us with their kids and “took care” of us.  When we crossed the bridge into the village, we were invited to the “cocina” to eat beans and tortillas.  We ate and observed the rituals from the safety of the half-building.

We arrived in the early afternoon.  As we walked from the truck to the village, we saw that they people were marching around the town center.  Our friends told us they were parading “the christ.”  When we arrived, they had already returned “the christ” to the church.  There were a group of about 30 men, called “the Jews” who were dancing around the town center beating drums, playing flutes, drinking, and play-fighting with carved “swords.”

One of our friends had brought a few beautiful, red hibiscus flowers as an offering.  So, before we left, she took Sarah and me with her as she went to the church to leave her offering.  When we got over to the church, we got “stuck” outside because the “Jews” had made their way in front of the church and were “dancing” in front of the door.  We hid off on the side until they moved enough so that we could run into the church really quick.

There were two sober men guarding the entrance to the church the whole time with guns.  (The guns are just a formality.  I really don’t think they could do much damage.)

They let us through and we were inside the dark church.  The light coming in through the door illuminated colorful paper flags strung across the ceiling and along the walls.  Four rows of palm branches, two on the left and two on the right, drew your eyes half-way down the long room to the center.  There, between rows of candles, on a raised frame sat a coffin draped in a dark cloth.

On the other side of the coffin, two teenage girls attended two small bowls of coals.  One ground incense while the other sprinkled the incense over the coals.  Then, she left one bowl to smoke beside the coffin and took the other one farther into the church to the front wall which was draped with more colorful paper flags and moved the bowl around so the smoke covered everything.

I couldn’t tell what was up front because we didn’t get close enough to see well and the flags were covering everything.  But, it seemed by the shape that it was some kind of altar.

Benches were lined up along the walls on either side.

As we entered the room, we paused so our eyes could adjust to the lighting and took in what we saw.  Sarah and I followed the cues of our friend and went forward to the middle of the room.  As we neared the coffin, a hand reached out of nowhere toward our friend with a candle.  She took the candle, pulled out some rolled up paper that she had grabbed in the kitchen, put it to the flame on another candle and used it to light her new candle.  She placed in on the floor beside the coffin and motioned for us to sit.  The three of us went over to the side of the room and sat for a few minutes.  There wasn’t much of a view because we ended up sitting behind palm branches and couldn’t see much.

We sat waiting, not knowing how long our friend would stay and wanting to see if anything else would happen.  After a few minutes of waiting on our hostess, she looked at us and asked, “Are you ready?”  She had been waiting on us!  She directed us to the benches and sat down because she knew we would want to see what was happening in the church and what it looked like!

We saw so many foreign things – much paganism and deception.  But, we also saw the blessings of growing relationships with friends in our village.  They were proactive in showing us and telling us what was happening and we were blessed to see them “take care” of us in what was for us, a new context.