Go ahead; call me biased. But if you really want to experience Christmas, you have to spend it in the Philippines, where 105 million Filipinos inhabit about 2,000 of 7,641 islands. There, Advent Season begins at the first “-ber” month, that is, Septem”-ber” 1, and doesn’t end until January 6, “Three Kings’ Day.”
Filipinos go all out when it comes to celebrating Christmas: amazing festivals of lights, effulgent decorations [indigenous and western], multicolored costumes [native and otherwise], carols [original Filipino and traditional western], and, most especially, delicious food. In our age of technology, kids in the tropics can even enjoy a white Christmas when their parents take them to a winter wonderland of fake snow.
One of the Advent traditions in this 86% Catholic country is Simbang Gabi [literally, Church Night Service]. The nine-day series of masses starts on December 16 and culminates on Christmas Eve. The last midnight mass is called Misa de Gallo [Spanish, “Rooster’s Crow”; literally, Rooster Mass].
There is a quaint non-religious tradition in Filipino culture, practiced any time of the year, but even more so at Christmas. It is “Mano po.” For non-Filipinos, let me describe it. You go to your grandparents’ home on Christmas Day. As soon as you can, you take the right hand of your “lolo or lola” [grandpa or grandma], bow your head, and touch your forehead with the back of their extended hand while saying, “Mano po” [Your hand, please; loosely translated]. And your grandparent says, “Bestigo santo” [Holy blessing].
Then comes the fun part; your grandparent hands you a shiny one- peso silver coin [in my generation, the exchange rate was 2 pesos=1 dollar], and you say, “Salamat po” [Thank you]. You do this several times throughout the day as you visit the homes of your aunts, uncles, ninongs and ninangs [godfathers and godmothers]. By the time you go to bed on December 25, you are a “rich” child. And if you do not get anything [almost never happens]? You still thank them for their words of blessing.
But what if there were no gifts? Could we still celebrate Christmas without them? I submit that yes, we could, because we’re already celebrating the best gift ever, God’s gift to humanity, God’s Son.
Born in a manger, his parents were considered poor. He grew up as a carpenter’s son and left his parents’ home at about age 30. For the next three years, or so, he ministered to the poor, the heartbroken, the downtrodden, the marginalized, and the outcast, including lepers. And, unlike foxes with holes and birds with nests, he had no home to call his own where he could lay his head at night. At the end of a short life in this world, he was disowned and denied by his disciple-friends. He was declared guilty, after going through a mockery of a trial, without the required number of witnesses, conducted at night, illegally.
He was humiliated, spat at, slapped in the face, tortured in public, and crucified. He died the death of a convicted criminal. This poor itinerant preacher had no tangible gift to give anyone. But he gave to all humanity the greatest gift ever, his life, God’s very life.
“[He] came in poverty and humility, to reveal a heavenly kingdom and to conquer the curse of sin through his own death.” [Lisa Appelo] His royal visitors from the east probably expected him to be born in a royal palace. But paranoid King Herod had no reason to fear being dethroned, because this child-king’s kingdom was not of this world.
Christmas can indeed be celebrated without tangible gifts. Like Steve Maraboli wrote, “Want to keep Christ in Christmas? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.”
Let us continue to emulate Christ daily, and, most especially and HONESTLY, during this ADVENT Season. We do not have a series of nightly services at church, leading up to Christmas. But we can take Christ’s extended hand and minister to others, like he did.
“Mano po.”
“Maligayang Pasko” [Merry Christmas].
Honesto Pascual and his wife, Carmencita, have been members of LSUC since 1977. Their two daughters, Elaine and Kharolynn, graduates of LSE, LSA, and LSU, were raised in this church community.