Showing posts with label Black Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Christ. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2018

Original Villages | Coyoacán: Quadrante del San Francisco, Part II: Ritual of Reconciliation of Two Worlds

Yesterday, Saturday, October 6, we spent the first of two days attending the Fiesta of San Francisco in Coyoacán's Quadrante del San Francisco. We discovered two jewels of church architecture, one old and one new, and watched some always colorful and lively chinelo dancers. We return now, on Sunday morning, to witness two rituals listed on the fiesta announcement: a Procession of the Crosses leading to the main Mass and, after the Mass, a Raising of the Crosses.

In the context of the patron saint fiesta for St. Francis of Assisi, in early October, half a year after Semana Santa, Holy Week, with its procession of the cross on Good Friday, and five months after the Fiesta of Santa Cruz, the Feast Day of the Holy Cross, always on May 3, we are mystified and intrigued as to what these rituals centered on the Cross will be and why they are being enacted as part of the Fiesta de San Francisco. Little do we know what a powerful experience we are going to be given, one rooted in the challenge of the confrontation of the two cultures at the core of Mexican identity: indigenous and Spanish.

Something Big Appears About to Happen


Arriving in the atrio of the church, we quickly realize that an event of significant proportions and, therefore, meaning, is going to take place.

The single cross from yesterday stands in its place,
opposite the church.

Opposite the solitary cross, in front of the church entrance,
lie two more large crosses 
— one draped in beige cloth, the other in green.


We have seen three such crosses together before,
at the Fiesta de Santa Cruz, the Holy Cross, on May 3. 
They are the center of an elaborate, post-Easter ritual 
in pueblos dedicated to la Santa Cruz.
Why they are appearing here, in San Francisco in October, is perplexing.

They lie between pillars covered with fresh flowers,
Behind them is a row of small andas, platforms that can be carried, bearing various saints.

Two saints, whom we can't identify, stand adorned with fresh flowers,
awaiting the procession.

Between the crosses,
an altar has been laid out on the pavement. 

While at first striking a foreigner as a curious combination of objects, we quickly realize that it is a deliberately constructed, complex and deeply significant conjunction of indigenous and Catholic religious symbols.
  • In front lie traditional Mexican corn tamales, the food that has fed the people of this land for millennia, wrapped in their corn husks. In one Mesoamerican creation myth, the gods made human beings from corn. Beyond is an unidentifiable, but obviously sacred object, wrapped in a cloth. 
  • Next are three censers, incense burners, carved in traditional indigenous form from black volcanic rock typical of Mexico and bearing copal, incense produced from the aromatic resin of the copal tree, endemic to Mexico.
  • Behind the censers, a cloth embroidered with butterflies, an indigenous symbol of resurrection of life from death, covers a stand serving as an altar.
  • The Virgin Mary stands on the altar, the center of veneration. The Virgin is always portrayed in the form of a particular advocación (from the Spanish/Latin verb advocar, to advocate, to speak up on behalf of someone). The term is used to identify each of the many specific "manifestations" the Virgin takes in her role as an advocate for the Faithful, an intermediary who appeals on their behalf to Her Risen Son, the Christ, in Heaven, and God the Father, the father of Her Son.
We don't recognize her advocación here, hence know her name. She wears a crown, with a cherub on each side, indicating she is some version of the Queen of Heaven, conceived immaculate from sin and assumed directly to Heaven upon her earthly death, where she received eternal life and was crowned.
  • At the rear is a banner of a cofradia (brotherhood), a religious association, dedicated to the Lord of Chalma. He is a version of the Crucified Christ (originally in a black form) believed to have miraculously replaced an obsidian idol of the Nahual/Azteca god Tezcatlipoca in a cave in the town of Chalma, after the idol was destroyed by Augustinian monks who arrived there in the 1530s. Chalma is some seventy miles southwest of Mexico City in the present State of Mexico. 
We have already encountered two other highly venerated black Christs believed to have been found in caves in what is now Mexico City, both at the base of el Cerro de la Estrella, the Hill of the Star, an ancient sacred site, now in Delegación Iztapalapa: el Señor del Calvario, the Lord of Calvary, in Culhuacán, and el Señor de la Cuevita, the Lord of the Little Cave, near the ancient center of the altepetl (city-state) of Iztapalapa.
Tezcatlipoca was god of the night, caves and other "dark" aspects of the world. In indigenous times, Chalma was a major site of pilgrimages from the villages of the Valley of Mexico to worship this god of darkness. With the miraculous appearance of the Lord of Chalma in that god's cave, it was transformed into a pilgrimage site to its new Lord.
Chalma remains today one of the two most visited pilgrimage sites in Mexico after the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City. Each year, many pueblos in the City and Valley of Mexico undertake the seventy-mile walk over the mountains of la Sierra de las Cruces (Mountains of the Crosses), to the Shrine of the Lord of Chalma.
The cofradía of the Lord of Chalma present here is from the Pueblo de San Andrés Tetepilco, another original village some three miles northeast of San Francisco, in Delegación Iztapalapa. The patron saint fiesta of San Andrés is at the end of November. We hope to be able to attend that celebration in Tetepilco.
This combination of indigenous and Catholic symbols is the epitome of the syncretism by which Franciscan and other friars supported the transformation and integration of indigenous religious practices into Roman Catholic ones in order to enable the indigenous to "convert" from their religion to Catholicism via the conjoining of symbols and rituals from the two traditions which shared compatible, deep, archetypical roots and spiritual meaning.

A Puzzling Beginning


Very soon, two men carry the statue of San Francisco from the church,
accompanied by the essential brass banda.
The procession is evidently about to begin.

But then, something strange happens, at least to us, an outsider. St. Francis and the banda don't head off, as would be usual, leading a procession of the other saints. Such processions usually begin at the church, circle through the streets of the saint's pueblo, sometimes coming to a rendezvous with saints arriving as guests from neighboring pueblos, and return to the church for a celebration of the Mass in honor of the patron saint.

Instead, San Francisco is placed where he was yesterday, in front of the church. Then the other saints begin to be carried out of the atrio, one at a time, in a rather informal manner. The banda does not follow to set the usual rhythm. Neither do the parishioners. We are perplexed and ask one standing nearby what is happening. He says that the procession will begin three or four blocks south of the church and the saints are being taken there. Puzzled, but wanting to catch "the action", we decide to follow the departing saints to where the procession will begin. So we wind our way out of the crowded atrio, along the narrow alley and turn south on Calle Quadrante de San Francisco

Two or three short blocks along, the street turns a corner. There we come upon the saints, lined along the sidewalk, waiting.


The small Virgin we saw in the atrio is now here. Next to her is a banner reading "Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan", Dancers of the Virgin of St. John. That gives us the name or avocación, the identity of this Virgin. 

Dancers of the Virgin of St. John,
Mexico Federal District 1987

We have not previously encountered this manifestation of the Virgin at a fiesta. Later research on Wikipedia reveals that she is a version of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, brought by a friar in 1543 to the indigenous town of Mezquititlan, in the northeast corner of what is now the western state of Jalisco. The town was assigned San Juan Bautista, St. John the Baptist, as its patron saint. 

Our Lady did not become important until 1632, when she is attributed with her "first miracle", bringing back to life a young girl, a member of a traveling acrobat family who fell from a trapeze onto knives stuck in the soil below, pointing upward. The Virgin subsequently was attributed with other miracles and became the focus of pilgrimages. At about this same time, many Spanish and mestizo (mixed indigenous-Spanish) people moved into San Juan Mezquititlan from the nearby town of Santa María de los Lagos and the town's name was changed to San Juan de los LagosThe miraculous Virgin became Nuestra Señora de San Juan de los Lagos. 

More and more pilgrims came, and her shrine was enlarged to its present size and Baroque form in the mid-18th century. In 1904 the Pope granted permission for the coronation of the image, recognizing it as a special representation of the Virgin Mary as Queen of Heaven.  A golden crown and two cherubs were added above her. In the mid-20th century, the pope designated the shrine the special status as a basilica. 

The shrine receives millions of pilgrims every year, especially around Candelaria on February 2 (commemorating the day Mary and Joseph presented the 40-day-old Infant Jesus at the Temple in Jerusalem). Thus, in Mexican traditional popular Catholicism, Our Lady of St. John of the Lakes holds a status in the range of Our Lord of Chalma and Our Lady of Guadalupe. She is another of the Santos Populares, Saints of the People that we have been becoming acquainted with in our Ambles to fiestas in Mexico City. She obviously has a following here, far from her town in Jalisco.  

The Ritual Begins with the Indigenous Roots of el Pueblo, the People of Mexico


As we are puzzling over the Virgin and the other saints, people begin to arrive. They are not ordinarily dressed parishioners. They are conchero or Azteca dancers. The banner has told us they are the Dancers of the Virgin of St. John. They are similar to the dancers we have seen at many fiestas, whose centuries-long tradition we have uncovered and shared in our post: Traditional Indigenous Dancers: Concheros and Danzantes Aztecas.

Two young men carry two more banners to add to those of Our Lady of St. John of the Lakes and the Lord of Chalma. Their contrasting images signal that a powerful encounter is about to take place.

This young man, dressed in simple indigenous attire,
carries a banner made of leather, bearing a symbolic Nahua glyph
and three Nahautl words written in Latin letters. 

Pachtli nite icxitoca
"Come together, examine, and follow the steps
of those who have gone before you (your elders)."

In the moment, we have no idea what the Nahuatl words mean. The glyph shows footprints circling into a tree topped by a hummingbird. The tree, we recognize, is the archetypical World Tree, a universal symbol of the axis mundi, the central column of the cosmos. With its roots in the Underworld, it holds up the roof of the Heavens, thereby creating and sustaining the middle space inhabited by the natural and human world. 

The hummingbird is the quintessential Nahua/Azteca symbol of sacrifice (its drawing nectar from flowers is equated with the drawing of blood). Thus, the path leading to the center of the cosmos, and of one's life, leads to self-sacrifice. In Mexica/Azteca religious mythology, human sacrifice was essential to feed the gods, who, in turn, provided the forces necessary to sustain human life. Self-sacrifice was the highest of values.

This is actually quite compatible with the central Christian belief that the sacrifice of Jesus the Christ, the Son of God Incarnate as a human being, provided the way by which sinful humans could be reconciled with God. The church, as the ongoing, incarnate Body of Christ, is the community united via that sacrifice and has the mission to continue to embody sacrifice and reconciliation in the lives of its members.  

Later, when we return home to our computer, we find there is actually an online Nahuatl-English "wiktionary" where we are able to find the three words, Pachtli nite icxitoca. They translate as "Come together, follow the steps of those who have gone before you (your elders)."

The second banner is of St. Francis of Assisi, grasping the cross.
His life as an ascetic monk
was a quintessential model of self-sacrifice.
Through his intense identification with Christ,
he is even believed to have received the stigmata,
the wounds of Christ's Crucifixion, on his hands, feet and side.

Some of the Dancers of the Virgin of St. John of the Lakes.
Indigenous tradition and identity is passed from one generation to the next.

Tradition lives on.

The Drums begin to sound.


The concheros begin to play and sing.


  
....and dance.  And if they can no longer dance, they can still play!


A New World Takes Charge, but a Path to Reconciliation of Old and New Worlds Is Opened



As they first did in 1523,
a Franciscan priest arrives to bless the indigenous danzantes.

A prayer is said.

La Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos,
is held by one of her Danzantes.

Here — with the arrival of the Franciscan priest and his blessing of the Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos — we begin to realize what is being enacted in this day's ritual. The Virgin embodies the same advocación as that of the far more renowned Virgen de Guadalupe. She joins two cultures, the world of the indigenous of what is now Mexico with that of European Roman Catholicism. Here, before our very eyes is a re-enactment of the mission of the original Franciscans.

The Franciscans had the insightfulness to realize that the only way to bridge the chasm between the alien cultures was to offer the indigenous people a vehicle to reconcile themselves with the Spanish Conquest and European Roman Catholicism. They opened the way for the indigenous to actively, concretely and visibly integrate their traditional attire, symbols and cultural expressions with those of Catholicism. In that way, they could maintain the continuity of their heritage and identity while accommodating to a new one.

The collaborative undertaking was accomplished by the indigenous' creative integration of their music, dance and rituals with the music, instruments and rituals of Catholic Europe. The rituals included the explicit adoption of (or viewing themselves as adopted by) particular advocaciones of the Virgin Mary and of the Christ, Her sacrificed Son, in addition to the patron saints assigned by the Catholic friars as the patron, the protector, of each community. These saints, especially the popularly adopted ones, provided, and continue to provide, direct connections with the Divine, the power that creates and maintains the world, that gives life and brings death, but can take one beyond that apparent end.

The conchero danzantes describe this achievement as one of "Conformidad y Unión", the active acceptance of and joining together with the faith and culture brought from Europe. They give it a symbolic name, "la conquista de la flor", "the conquest of the flower", i.e., of the heart.

The Procession of Reconciled Cultures


The two cultures, now symbolically reconciled, begin their procession toward the church of San Francisco where, as one, they will celebrate the Mass for their patron saint.

First, come the acolytes of the church.
Then the indigenous danzantes, 
with their chosen Virgin.



Last, come the saints.
The first is Jesus of the Sacred Heart,
He who sacrificed Himself for humankind.

Arriving at the church filled with the Faithful
awaiting the Mass for San Francisco,
the danzantes enter first.

The saints follow.

The Mass begins.

Ritual of the Raising of the Crosses


As the millennial-old ritual of the Catholic Mass begins, we leave the sanctuary and return to the atrio. The two crosses that greeted us when we arrived earlier in the day still lie on the ground, awaiting the next ritual, the Raising of the Crosses.

When the Mass ends, the ritual begins. It is led by los danzantes. 


The ritual begins, as indigenous rituals have begun for millennia,
with the blowing of a conch shell horn, producing its eerie, to us, plaintive sound.

Multiple drums begin to be sounded.

The strings of los conchos are struck, emitting a simple melody.
The singing begins.


The crosses are raised


First, the cross dressed in green is raised,
requiring significant effort and teamwork.

Then the one dressed in beige is raised, with equal effort and coordination.

The three crosses stand together.

At the center of each cross is the form of a sunburst, one with a heart. The sunburst is the classic symbol of the Presence of the Divine, the Ultimate Power, God. The heart is the Sacred Heart of the self-sacrificed Jesus the Christ, the Incarnate Son of God. The crosses combined with the sunburst symbolize the reconciliation of God with humankind, via that sacrifice. At this intersection, humankind faces God.

There are three crosses because Jesus was crucified between two thieves, one of whom repented his sins and was promised entrance into Paradise by Jesus. That thief is the first person saved by acknowledging who it is being executed next to him.

Veneration of the Crosses: Blessing and being blessed


As we said at the beginning of this post, we have seen such a raising of three crosses at the Fiesta de Santa Cruz in the Pueblo Santa Cruz Acalpixca, in Delegación Xochimilco. There, the raising precedes their being carried, on the following Tuesday, by members of the pueblo up a steep hill, visible from the church, and raised (See video of this ritual). The three crosses remain there, watching over the pueblo, for an entire year.

Then in late April, they are brought down to the pueblo, repainted and dressed with new cloths, in preparation for that year's fiesta and another initiation of the annual cycle. We have read of similar cyclical rites, with the crosses placed on a hilltop for the year, that are enacted in other pueblos in Mexico City dedicated to the Holy Cross. We expect that the same occurs in most every Pueblo Santa Cruz across Mexico and, likely, across Latin America. What we did not see in Santa Cruz Acalpixca is what happens next, here in el Quadrante de San Francisco.

One after another, women of los Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos approach each of the crosses and, in various ways, show their veneration, both blessing each one and, we assume, experiencing that they, in turn, have been and will be blessed by the sacred power made present through the crosses.


The crosses are, in this belief, from this point of view, saints. They are just like all the advocaciones of the Virgin and of Jesus the Christ as an Infant, in his Passion, Crucifixion, Burial, Resurrection and other representations. They are like all those human men and women, such as St. Francis, who because of their exceptional devotion and associated miracles, have been sanctified and reside eternally in Heaven, in the immediate presence of the Divine. 

All these material representations, symbols, including the three raised crosses, are vehicles of communication with that Divine Power that created and governs the Universe and each individual's life. Communing with these saints, here, with these Holy Crosses, in this moment, is as close to the Ultimate Power as these who believe can come. Upon realizing that this sacred communion is what is being enacted and experienced before our eyes — the denouement of the ritual drama of reconciliation we have been witnessing since earlier this morning — we, believer or not, are deeply moved by the spiritual power that is conveyed.

A Small Miracle


While the crosses are being venerated, the conchero danzantes play and sing. When the blessings are finished, they play and sing on, even more loudly, in celebration of the climax of the day's ritual. In this moment, we witness what we consider to be a small miracle, totally human, but still, a miracle of faith.

Beginning with the initial gathering of los danzantes, a few blocks from the church, our eye has been caught by an elderly woman, likely in her 80s or possibly beyond, sitting in a wheelchair. She is wearing a simple tocado, feathered headdress, and under her modern coat, an indigenous dress and jewelry. She is obviously a member of the Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos who, because of her age and infirmity, can no longer dance, but who is still an active participant with the group, clearly its matriarch. At that initial gathering, we requested and she granted the taking of her photo. Just minutes ago, during the veneration of the crosses, she rose from her wheelchair, and with assistance, came to the crosses and prayed to them.   

Now, with the concheros playing and singing full out, we suddenly notice that she is standing with one of them and she, too, is singing her heart out.


There is, in Spanish, the noun ánimo (related, via shared Latin origins, with the English words animal, animate, animation). It means spirit, in the sense of being spirited. It is the energy of the life force that animates us all. Here, in front of us, is pure ánimo mexicano, ánimo humano, ánimo sagrado; Mexican spirit, human spirit, sacred spirit. Again, we are moved, beyond the proverbial words. We can only feel that what we are witnessing is a kind of miracle, the gift of a moment in the presence of the sacred.

¡Adiós!: Farewell to This Sacred Day


After some further playing and singing, the Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos gather into a line and file into the sanctuary, now nearly empty of parishioners. Playing and singing, they move down the central aisle, approaching the altar.




Together with the saints that have gathered for the fiesta,
los danzantes stand, facing the altar. 

Behind the altar is the statue of San Francisco,
and below him, within the golden baldachin (canopy),
is the golden sunburst of the Divine Presence.
In its center, 
encased in glass, is the Sacred Host (sacrifice),
the wafer of bread that is the Body of Christ, the Son of God,
who gave Himself in sacrifice to reconcile mankind to the Divine.

Danzantes de la Virgen de San Juan de los Lagos, with their Virgin,
stand before San Francisco and the Presence of the Divine Host,
in a final act of veneration.

With the danzantes' return before the Divine Host, the Presence of the sacrificed Jesus the Christ, who thereby opened the way for humankind to be reconciled to God — with their return, the drama that we have witnessed today is completed. That drama is the symbolic path of merged ritual opened up by the Catholic Franciscans to the land's indigenous people. By this path, the two cultures that compose Mexico, indigenous and Spanish, that virtually every Mexican embodies (if they are willing to acknowledge it) have been able to reconcile. It is not the only path Mexicans have found to that reconciliation, but it is a powerful one followed still, as we have witnessed today, by many Mexicans. We say this knowing that many other Mexicans still have not yet found one. 

We depart the sanctuary, the atrio, the fiesta and the calles of el Quadrante del San Franciso in awe. We feel we have experienced the clearest, most coherent and, therefore, most powerful representation of what we have been pursuing for the past two-and-a-half years, what has been called the Spiritual Conquest. Better said, as the conchero danzantes do, we have witnessed a dramatization of the path to "Conformidad y Unión", acceptance and joining, to reconciliation, an enactment of "la conquista de la flor" — "the conquest of the flower" — of the human heart.

Post Script: We subsequently learned from the Facebook page of la Capilla del Cuadrante de San Francisco that the Mass celebrated this day was the final one of Padre Porfirio and that it was the first day for Fray Guillermo Basurto, who had blessed the danzantes at the beginning of the  procession, as priest of the Chapel and the pueblo of San Francisco. So it was an extra-special day for el pueblo.


Delegación Coyoacán (purple)
sits in the middle of Mexico City.
El Cuadrante del San Francisco 
(marked by the green/yellow star)

Friday, December 22, 2017

Original Villages | Culhuacán: San Andrés Tomatlán, Pt II - The Lord of Calvary, the Saint of Culhuacán-Tomatlán, Goes Visiting

Culhuacán's Lord of Calvary, the Black Christ, Buried


We have written three previous posts about Culhuacán:
  • The first focused on its history as an original indigenous altepelt (city-state) that for hundreds of years controlled the southeast side of Lake Texcoco and the north side of Lake Xochimilco before the rise to power of the Mexica of Tenochtitlan in 1430.
  • Our second post told of our Amble through Contemporary Culhuacán and its vestiges of the Spirtual Conquest, i.e. the conversion of its indigenous inhabitants to Catholic Christianity by Spanish friars. This led to our first encounter with el Señor del Calvario, the Lord of Calvary, in His Capilla, Chapel, in the center of what is now Pueblo Culhuacán. El Señor is a carved image of Jesus as the Christ during the day and a half He was buried in His tomb—and when, according to the Apostle's Creed, "He descended into Hell." And He is black.

Chapel of the Lord of Calvary, the People's Creation


Chapel of the Lord of Calvary
Note: the space behind the altar is empty.
There is no figure of Christ,
something we wondered about at the time. 

The chapel was built by local residents around the turn of the 19th to the 20th century—that is, it is a creation of religión popular, religion of the people, el pueblo. It is not an establishment of either the official Catholic Church or of any religious order—as were both the nearby former Convent of St. John the Evangelist, built by the Augustians in th mid-16th century as part of their work to convert the indigenous in the so-called Spiritual Conquest, and the adjacent Parrochial Church of St. John the Evangelist, built near the end of the 19th century to replace a church attached to the original convent that had fallen into disrepair.

Nevertheless, despite the chapel's relative newness, the sacred origins of the site go back some centuries. It is located next to a small cave in the adjoining hillside which is the base of a small, extinct volcano called Cerro de la Estrella (Hill of the Star). Volcanic action created many caves in the hillside. The summit of the hill is the site of the Mexica temple of the Binding of the Years or New Fire that we wrote about in our initial post on Culhuacán and its neighbor, Iztapalapa.

This cave was evidently the site of indigenous rituals to gods of the Underworld. In our first post on El Señor, we wrote about the indigenous tradition of black gods, including  Tezcatlipocagod of the night, hurricanes, the north (cold), the earth, enmity, discord, temptation, sorcery, war and strife.

Legend has it that a couple of hundred years ago, the carving of the entombed black Christ was found in the cave.

Cave of the Lord of Calvary
Note: the glass coffin is also empty.

A large mural on the side wall of the Chapel depicts the religious meaning of this intriguing set of symbols and their location.

The black Lord of Calvary is worshipped in his cave by indigenous people.
There are no Spaniards or Catholic priests 

(although the goat is a European introduction).
Cerro de la Estrella rises at the top, in the background.

Binding el Pueblo, the People of Culhuacán-Tomatlán Together


Our third post on Culhuacán recounted our second encounter with el Señor del Calvario, during the Fiesta de la Santisima Trinidad, the Most Holy Trinity, celebrated in June after the end of Easter Season. That Sunday, after joining in a long procession through all four barrios of Pueblo San Francisco Culhuacán, on the Delegacion (borough) Coyoacán side of greater Culhuacán, we arrived at the Chapel of the Lord of Calvary for an outdoor mass, joined by people from the five barrios of Pueblo Culhuacán, in Delegación Iztapalapa.

The Lord of Calvary lies front and center at the Mass celebrating the Holy Trinity.

At the beginning of the Mass, El Señor del Calvario was carefully carried in his glass coffin from His place above the altar of His chapel and placed on a table at the front, where he was joined by the saints brought from all the barrios of both Culhuacáns. It was dramatically clear that El Señor is The Saint, the symbolic figure, that binds all the barrios of Culhuacán together. He is the unofficial, but very powerful Saint of Culhuacán.

El Señor Visits His Barrios


As we kept track of the fiestas of Culhuacán, (via the Facebook page, Fiestas Mágicas del los Pueblos y Barrios Originarios del Valle de MexicoMagical Fiestas of the Original Villages and Neighborhoods of the Valley of Mexico) we noted that El Señor del Calvario goes visiting to the various pueblos and barrios of Culhuacán. Thus, He is similar to his counterparts, El Señor de Misericordia, the Lord of Compassion, in central Coyoacán, and el Niño 'Pa in Xochimilco, but unlike these other two, His visits coincide with the fiesta patronal, the patron saint fiesta, of each community. This, perhaps, explains why His place in His chapel was empty the first time we visited.

Thus, when we saw on the announcement of the Fiesta de San Andrés Tomatlán (held the week of Nov. 30, when we participated in its procession) that the final event was el traslado del Señor del Calvario desde San Andrés hasta Santa María Tomatlan, the transfer of the Lord of Calvary from Pueblo San Andrés to Pueblo Santa María Tomatlán, we were determined to return to San Andrés to witness this very significant act. Clearly, El Señor´s presence in the Church of St. Andrew during its fiesta  and His transfer to St. Mary's for that parish's fiesta, celebrating the Immaculate Conception of Mary (Dec. 8), meant the Pueblo Tomatlán, just south of Pueblo Culhuacán, was part of the larger Culhuacán commuity, part of a larger pueblo. The transfer was scheduled for four o'clock, Tuesday afternoon.

Waiting


At about twenty minutes to four, we get off the Metro at the San Andres Tomatlán station. From the elevated platform, we can see that the church's gate is closed and no one is in the atrio (atrium) inside. A bit anxious as to whether the event is actually going to occur, we descend to Avenida Tláhuac, cross and ascend the stairs to the church. While the iron gate to the atrio is closed, we find it is unlocked, so we enter and climb the remaining stairs to the front of the church.

Fiesta de San Andres' floral portada.
"Congratulatons, St. Andrew, on your day."
The sun is, of course, one of the most ancient of religious symbols.

The large wooden doors to the sanctuary are closed and locked. So, too, is the door to the Chapel on the right side. Our anxiety growing, we walk around to the other side of the church and find a glass door to the church office. A sign says it is open from 9AM to noon and again from 4PM to 7. The break is a typical one in Mexico for comida, the main meal of the day, preferably eaten at home with the family. As it is now a few minutes before four, we decide to sit on the steps and wait, and maintain hope.

Suddenly, promptly at four, a large suburban vehicle drives in through a second gate that is open to a side street. We recognize the driver as the mayordomo, the head of the mayordomia, the committee in charge of the fiesta. Right behind him is a taxi with three or four other members of the mayordomia. As the mayordomo gets out of his car, we go over and greet him. He remembers us from the procession last Thursday and welcomes us, assuring us that el traslado del Señor is going to happen. Other people arrive on foot. I chat with some of them while we wait for whatever is next.

Meeting el Señor del Calvario


Suddenly, someone inside opens the doors to the sanctuary and everyone enters. The sheer number of bouquets of flowers—predominantly lillies—filling the modern, high-ceilinged space is almost overwhelming—as is, may we add, their scent. In the center rests the glass casket of El Señor. Next  to it rests another, much smaller glass casket.

Casket of el Señor del Calvario

El Señor del Calvario
The wrapping
hand-embroidered by ladies
of the parishis changed at each transfer of El Señor.
A woman of the parish informs us that the "dressing" was done at 7 AM this morning.

El Señor del Calvario

Two Señores del Calvario
The smaller casket bears an identical, much smaller Señor.
We have seen such smaller duplicates of saints at numerous fiestas;
these copies of the original are referred to as
demanditas, "little demands,"
but we don't know why.

More Waiting


After taking photos of el Señor and His demandita, we take a seat in a front pew and wait for the initiation of el traslado. More people arrive and the pews behind us fill up. Among those who enter are men and women, including youth, wearing black T-shirts embroidered on the backs with Sr Calvario, Mayordomia 2017, Santa María Tomatlán. Members of the committee from the Pueblo and parish of St. Mary Tomatlán, they are evidently responsible for the transfer of El Señor to their community. They all enter a door to the office at the side of the sanctuary, filling the small room to its limits. They remain there for quite some time.

We wait. It is now approaching 5 PM. It is early December. The sun sets now a little before 6 PM. We get somewhat anxious wondering whether the procession will begin before the light drops. If it doesn't, we won't be able to get any good photos.

T-shirt identifying a member of
the mayordomia, committee,
from Santa María Tomatlán.
Such identifying T-shirts
(or sometimes, polo shirts)
are standard dress for mayordomias.

Finally, some minutes after 5 PM, the door to the office opens and members of the mayordomia enter the sanctuary. One member, a woman perhaps in her thirties, has a large, old-fashioned ledger book which she opens. Piled in front of her are various items. She checks off all the equipment needed for the transfer: slender metal poles, long, thick, polished wooden poles, small cushions for the bearers of the casket to cushion their shoulders. Then several members of the committee gather around the two caskets. There is a lot of activity. 

The caskets are covered with
embroidered cloths.

Wooden poles are slid underneath the casket.

The Procession to Santa Maria Tomatlán


El Señor is carried from the Church of San Andrés.

El Señor and His demandita are carried from the Church of San Andrés.
The metal poles we saw being counted inside hold

canopiesborn by womenabove the caskets.
The saints are given ancient royal treatment. 

The essential banda is ready to accompany the procession.
We note that this one includes a number of women.
Most often, bandas are all male.

Obligatory cohetes,
rocket-style firecrackers,
are shot off,
announcing to the community
that the procession is underway.

Avoiding the many stairs in front, the procession leaves
via the side gate of the church, into the street leading toward
traffic-filled Avenida Tláhuac.

Ancient and modern intersect.
The procession enters Avenida Tláhuac.
A train on Metro Line 12 passes above.

The procession moves down Avenida Tláhuac,
toward Santa María Tomatlán, a few blocks south.

The banner to the left 
is that of  the Mayordomia
of the Church of the Most Pure Conception of the Virgin Mary of Tomatlán.

Traffic is, of course, brought to a standstill while the procession makes its way.

Archway at the entrance to Pueblo Santa María Tomatlán.
Such archways are common at the entrances to original pueblos.

Procession of El Señor del Calvario
arrives in Pueblo Santa María Tomatlán.

The procession turns off the pueblo's main street and
into a narrow calleja, side street.

We are surprised and puzzled,
as we know the church is directly down the main street,

where we had expected to head.

The faithful...
...await.

The procession reaches a point in the street where two tables stand.
They are covered with pink cloths.
The caskets of El Señor and la demandita are lowered to the tables.

The procession comes to two long tables, covered with pink cloths, and the two caskets are lowered carefully to them. Obviously, some kind of welcoming ritual is going to be carried out. 

Time to Leave, Planning to Return


It is now 6 PM. The sun is down and the light is fast following it. It is time for us to leave and return to Coyoacán. We have already planned to come to Santa María Tomatlán in three days, on December 8, for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, as we expect the parish will have a celebration of its patron saint, the Virgin Mary. So we anticipate that we will find El Señor del Calvario, and His demandita, in the church at that time.

El Señor del Calvario in Pueblo Santa María Tomatlán


Thursday morning, we follow our now routine path to Culhuacán and Tomatlán, taking first a taxi across Avenida Taxqueña then getting on Metro Line 12. This time we go past the San Andrés stop to the next one, get off and descend to Avenida Tláhuac. Walking a few blocks north, we turn onto the street that enters the pueblo. A short block farther on, we come alongside the church—a large, modern concrete structure with a gambrel, "Dutch-style" roof that reminds us of barns in the U.S. Northeast.

A portada of plastic flowers covers the entrance
"Most pure Conception, protect your pueblo (people/village)"

Mass is being celebrated for the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary.
Her figure stands at the right, in front of the blue drape. 


Looking for a fiesta


Outside, we search the notices posted on the entrance walls for a schedule of fiesta events. There is only a handwritten sign announcing a series of special Masses today and next Tuesday, December 12, the Fiesta of the Virgin of Guadalupe, the Mother of Mexico. 

Una señora, a matronly lady, is standing just outside the church door, beside a small table offering candles and other religious items. Clearly a representative of the congregation, she is dressed in an attractive green and white plaid wool coat (it is a brisk December morning), with matching, hand-knit wool scarf and cap. We approach her to inquire about the existence of a fiesta this weekend for the Immaculate Conception.

Lady of the church
and our informant.

La señora informs us that there is no fiesta on this occasion, even though this is a church dedicated to the Immaculate Conception of Mary. She tells us that their big fiesta is held on Mary's Natividad, birthday, in early September. (At that time, we were at Church of Santa María Natividad Tepetlalzingo in Delegación Benito Juárez.) We tell her that we will put this on our schedule of fiestas, and, ojalá, God willing, be able to attend next year. She adds that the church also has a procession on Holy Friday of Semana Santa, Holy Week. 

We tell her that, on Tuesday, we had followed the procession of El Señor del Calvario from the Church of San Andrés to the streets of Santa María, but, as it got dark, we didn´t follow Him to the Church. We ask if He is inside, since we can´t see His casket in the sanctuary. She says that, yes, he is in a chapel off to one side of the sanctuary. Mass is nearing its end with the passing of the peace among attendees. As we find this tradition meaningful, we shake hands with her and other parishioners standing inside the doorway. Our guide then enters to receive the Host. 

A very small plaza across the street from the church catches our attention, since it is warmed by the late autumn sun shining into it. So we cross and sit on a bench, sunning ourselves while we wait for the end of Mass so we can enter the church.

Sunny plazuela,
little plaza.

Soon, parishioners are leaving the church. 

Parishioners have brought
their images of the Virgin Mary
to be blessed at the Mass.

Meeting El Señor del Calvario Once Again

We enter the now nearly empty sanctuary. To the right, halfway toward the altar, is a large opening, its arch decorated with pink and white gauze, the colors of San Andrés, St. Andrew, the parish from which El Señor came on Tuesday evening. Walking forward, we turn into the chapel.

It is not like any Catholic Church chapel we have seen in Mexico. It is not covered with Baroque gold gilt. Instead, the walls are covered with a mural that melds medieval with modern styles.

El Señor del Calvario
A crucified Christ hangs in the center of the mural.
To the left is Moses with the Ten Commandments;
to the right is the Apostle and Evangelist St. John.

The walls and ceiling of the space are rounded, which, together with the warm tones of the mural, give it the feeling of a cave. That sensation and the mural remind us of where we started this Amble, not many blocks to the north, in la Capilla del Señor del Calvario, and the cave where He was found. El SeñorHis Capilla and cave remain sacred to the people of Culhuacán and its neighbor, Tomatlán. With El Señor here in Santa María, newly arrived from San Andrés, we feel the completion of a cycle in the communal ritual which binds the many barrios of the two pueblos together.


Delegaciones (Boroughs) of Mexico City
Iztapalapa is the large, bright green one
on the mid-east side.

Pueblos, Barrios and Colonias of Iztapalapa.
Pueblos San Andrés and Santa María Tomatlán are marked by the green/yellow star. 

Pueblos Culhuacán and Tomatlán

Pueblo Culhuacán, location of la Capilla del Señor del Calvario,
is large red area marked by red/yellow star;
smaller areas around it are its barrios.


Pueblo San Andrés Tomatlán includes both the light blue and the lower red area
marked by green/yellow star.


Pueblo Santa María Tomatlán is green area marked by green star.

Cerro de la Estrella, Hill of the Star
is dark gray-greeen area to the northeast.