[REFLECTION] Santacruzan: Piety or pageantry?

‘The parade of saints has morphed into a catwalk. A procession that once pointed to the Cross now bows to capital.’

Every May, Philippine towns transform into scenes of spectacle. Gilded arches, floral floats, marching bands, and young women in opulent gowns parading down narrow streets – this is the Santacruzan, a hallmark of Filipino Catholicism, or at least what remains of it.

But behind the shimmer of sequins and the pageantry of the sagala lies an unsettling question: What exactly are we celebrating?

The Santacruzan, also known as the Sagalahan, is the grand culmination of the Flores de Mayo, a monthlong Marian devotion introduced by Spanish missionaries over a century ago. Traditionally, it was a simple, heartfelt practice: Filipino Catholics gathered daily to pray the rosary and offer fresh flowers to the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose spiritual motherhood was honored with the bloom of May.

Somewhere along the way, the focus shifted.

Originally, the Santacruzan was tethered to the feast of Roodmas, the commemoration of Saint Helena’s discovery of the True Cross. In its earliest forms, the procession was didactic. Characters like Reyna Elena and Constantino served as visual catechesis. Their roles are embedded in the theological narrative of salvation. Other figures, from biblical women to the personified Faith, Hope, and Charity, traced the arc of Christian virtue and Church history.

In essence, the event was meant to instruct and inspire. It was a moving tableau of Catholic identity designed not just to please the eye but to elevate the heart.

But today, that original intention seems like a footnote in an increasingly secularized performance. The parade of saints has morphed into a catwalk. The language of devotion has been replaced by the grammar of spectacle. While the event still carries Christian symbols, its center of gravity has shifted —from catechesis to competition, from piety to prestige.

Ironically, even Catholic parishes have not been immune. In some places, the title of Reyna Elena no longer honors the memory of a saintly queen but is awarded to the highest fundraiser. A procession that once pointed to the Cross now bows to capital. What was once a communal act of devotion has been rebranded as a cultural heritage showcase. Glamorous, yes, but hollow at its core.

Let’s be clear: the Church is not, and has never been, allergic to beauty. The Christian imagination is formed, even nourished, by beauty. Beauty in the Christian tradition is not about surface appeal but about reflecting divine order and goodness — a radiance that awakens the soul to seek God. When properly understood, beauty becomes a kind of evangelization, a window through which we glimpse eternity.

The problem is not beauty per se, but beauty divorced from meaning. When the extravagant eclipses the spiritual, when excess suffocates essence, we are left with a faith that is ornate but weightless, like a rosary of roses but no prayer.

We cannot afford that kind of faith today.

In a Church increasingly called to embrace the poor, the marginalized, the forgotten, we are challenged to redirect not just our money, but our imagination. What if the budgets we pour into gowns and garlands were reallocated to feed the hungry, house the homeless, or educate children? What if our communities paraded their compassion more visibly than their costumes?

Of course, traditions evolve. No one is asking to erase the Santacruzan from our calendars. But neither should we let it float aimlessly in the glitter of cultural nostalgia. We must reclaim its soul — prayerful, catechetical, Christ-centered.

If we fail to do so, the danger is not that the Church becomes irrelevant. The danger is that it becomes indistinguishable from a fashion show, from a fundraising gimmick, from a performance of faith with no substance.

And surely, we are meant for more than that. – Rappler.com

Gerard Mapalo, 26, is a theology instructor at Saint Louis University, Baguio City. Hailing from Tubao, La Union, he was a former seminarian of the Diocese of San Fernando de La Union and the University of Santo Tomas Central Seminary, where he also served as chancellor.