Sunday, September 23, 2007 Gil: Tender rituals By Sandy Gil Sunday Dunes
(First of Two Parts)
A FEW weeks ago, a dear friend of mine suddenly appeared out of nowhere. His name is Carlos; and Carlos is a man of the cloth. Man of the cloth... sounds like a tailor... or could be a textile weaver (although it is normally women who weave in this country). But surely far from that, Carlos is a member of a religious congregation, a holy man. Someone saw us walking down the corridor of my workplace and wondered aloud that he did not realize that the sacred and the profane could actually be together. Of course, I promptly assumed I was the sacred.
With Carlos' unexpected appearance, I decided to maximize his existence by requesting him to bless my new home. Certainly, my home is no longer new. While I had moved into my cute little abode more than a year ago, I had always wanted it to be blessed. But I had postponed this plan time and again for two reasons.
First, when I had moved in, everyone assumed that they would be invited to an extravagant house warming. And although the house does not quite need warming (or heating) in an undoubtedly tropical climate, the phrase meant a house blessing. Little did people know that my home can comfortably fit only a maximum of three individuals. Worse yet, I possess a porcelain (!) dinner set for only four. And this same number is likewise assigned to my drinking glasses, spoons, forks and so on...
The Filipino tradition of a house blessing where one shows off one's material wealth was definitely out of the question. And so I did not push through with the house blessing plans. Thus, by the time I had asked Carlos to bless my home, the excitement of my impending house warming had already died a natural death.
The second reason for the postponement is simpler. I do not possess an extensive network of religious people. In fact, I know only of two men of the cloth in Davao City: a Jesuit and Carlos. My Jesuit friend was then too busy with his academic endeavors and our schedules could not be coordinated. It became obvious that the house blessing would have to wait for an opportune time. And what more opportune time when Carlos suddenly emerged from the shadows of his sabbatical!
-o0o-
Carlos requested that the following, not necessarily in the order of importance, be provided for the momentous occasion: candles, incense, wine, flowers, fruits and instrumental music. An interesting assortment of items, don't you think?
I actually keep candles, incense, music and wine (of course) handy in my home. It was the flowers and fruits that would have to be eventually purchased. But then again, I do have a small garden studded with luscious yellow bells as hedges. And the fruits... well, would the fruits of my labor suffice? Carlos preferred not to demean himself by responding to that question.
-o0o-
The blessing was scheduled last Sunday. And I think Carlos was a bit surprised (although he tried to restrain his facial transparency) that I had only one other guest, my best friend, Reza. And it was the most personal ritual that I have ever witnessed.
I had put on my instrumental music, Jim Chappell's Tender Rituals, to start the ceremony. Carlos asked Reza and me to light the candles (tealights actually) and incense. He asked me to pour a little bit of wine in three wine glasses. We took out the fruits (I eventually bought a few) -- three apples, three oranges and a bunch of seedless grapes. I was also asked to place a bowl of water in the midst of all these items. These were all placed on the center table in the living room.
In the meantime, Carlos stepped out of the house and returned with a young branch he had picked from the garden. He placed this beside the bowl of water. We were indeed as busy as bees preparing all the items needed for the ritual.
Soon enough, Carlos laid a deep purple tubaw (scarf) on the center table. Then he gently laid one peso coins I had collected around the edges of the scarf. He said that these silver coins were important for the Bagobo in blessing rituals. They symbolized wealth and luck. I was not to use these coins for commercial transactions after the blessing.
Then Carlos reverently laid deep sky-blue Muslim prayer beads on the scarf beside a Catholic cross etched with the dove of peace within the circle of silver coins. By this time, I thought that my once-simple center table looked like an absolutely disorganized altar.
But before I could say anything, Carlos announced that the ritual that was about to commence was to be an ecumenical one.
