Protecting the images of saints

THE CATHOLIC clergy might have succeeded in protecting the laity from the blatant evils of Filipino partisan politics during the recent electoral season. But they have not been as successful in deterring the theft of the images of protector saints inside their churches over the past few years.

The cannibalizing of gold ornaments from, and the desecration of, the image of the Santo Niño inside the San Agustin Church in Manila, an event that was featured in the national dailies and TV channels early this year, was merely a tip of the iceberg of this largely hushed-up phenomenon.

The truth is, antique religious images inside churches and chapels around the country are being lost to thieves on an alarming scale. In Eastern Visayas, I have read reports or heard of the theft of about 10 religious images from churches or chapels over the past year alone.

Biliran town in Biliran Province lost the original image of its protector saint, San Juan Nepomuceno, which was taken from its niche inside the church last year. And the church of Jaro, Leyte, also lost to thieves the ivory parts (head and hands) of its image of St. Matthew the Apostle.

Our religious images are known to be miraculous in some ways based on testimonies of their ardent devotees, but some images are certainly more miraculous than others, and could seemingly protect themselves from the hardest-hearted of thieves.

A few years ago, the church of Basey in Samar, lost its image of the Virgin Mary to thieves. Within hours, the loss and sketchy accounts of the heist was relayed to the police and military authorities and radio stations in Tacloban, which promptly raised an alert about the event.

Within days, the image was found unscathed, somewhere along the highway several towns north of Basey. It was reportedly inside a jeepney that had stalled, apparently the same one used by the thieves as getaway vehicle.

It would be interesting if the thieves would come out and describe to the modern reader the thunder, lightning or whatever that struck them, and forced them to flee without their loot.

Tough luck for them, they happened to take away an icon that was a veteran of protecting itself, even against the more rapacious Moro raiders during historical times.

The Jesuit missionary, Fr. Francisco Ignacio Alcina, writing in 1668, had this to say about the miraculous image of Basey:

"The second observation concerns the image of Our Lady, whose face and hands are made of ivory and which is found in the hermitage of this Basey town. Somehow the Camucon pirates have spared this image on two occasions when they raided, plundered and devastated this town. Constantly, these terrible predators, the Moros, have carried off even the very confessional curtains (so rapacious are they) and whatever nails they could manage to pull out.

"Notwithstanding the fact that ivory is greatly valued and appreciated by them, even more than by our natives, yet on no occasion had they dared to lay hands on this holy image. Perhaps, the image protected itself from such sacrilegious and predatory enemy.

"The last time that this enemy attacked Basey, the minister, by some special inspiration from this image, was urged to leave the said town during the night and not wait till morning as it would be most proper. At daybreak, the enemy fell upon the town without anyone knowing that he was so near, for no warning had been given. They plundered not only what belonged to the church, but also some other previous items of silver like lunette, monstrance, censer, etc.

"They also captured some of the people in Basey and nearby who were unable to escape from the town ... This took place sometime before 1664 or thereabouts."

Alcina’s first observation about the town was that it was terribly infested with crocodiles, that those who perished in their grip were not few. These beasts were so daring that even at night, they would creep under the kitchen of the Jesuits and carry off pigs and other domestic animals.

A missionary who ministered the town sought some supernatural means of eliminating the crocodile menace, for all natural means were futile. The local population drew lots and chose St. Matthew the Apostle as their protector saint, and this act was supposed to have ensured their tranquility for years.

After the Jesuits were expelled from the Spanish colonies in 1768, the Augustinians briefly took over the ministry of Basey. It seems the new ministers were responsible for changing the town’s protector saint to that of the Santo Niño (the present icon in Tacloban), which was replaced in the early 1800s by the Franciscans with that of St. Michael the Archangel.

As for the image of St. Matthew, the Augustinians apparently transferred this to their new parish in Jaro, Leyte, there being a tale in that town about some religious affinity with Basey.

Now, this image has just lost its ivory head and hands.