We are in Sevilla during Semana Santa or Holy Week. This entails incredible processions every day of the week. Some even starting at one in the morning. The locals are dressed to the nines and the tourists look like underdressed slobs – a description that is, in my case, accurate.
Holy Week processions are a sight to behold. Every church has a procession that includes a band, people dressed in robes reminiscent of the KKK and large statues carried by a number of men. Children carry crosses and we haven’t even got to the chains, bare feet and steel poles of the Friday procession. They process from their own church, go to the Cathedral and return to their home church. This is a logistical work of art that includes police, fence arrangers and chair ‘setter uppers’. It dominates the whole of the old city. Many of the well dressed people around town wear lapel pins that identify them with a particular church or society. There is an underlying sense of passionate competition between the groups.
What do I make of all this? It is a fabulous tourist attraction. National and international visitors flock to Sevilla. Bars make more now than at any other time of the year. However, Good Friday and Easter Sunday, are for me, at the heart of the Christian message. It is about Christ’s sacrifice for our total brokenness and his power over sin and death – again, for us. It is about reconciliation with God through His ‘agape’ self giving love.
I see glimpses of that in the theatre of the processions but I wonder if like so may religious traditions we make it more about us and what we want than God and what He has done. The festivities (I can’t think of a more appropriate word) has that secular and self obsessed air of Christmas.
I find myself in that uncomfortable position where I am intrigued and drawn in by the drama but deeply unsettled by its implied message.