Every Holy Week in my hometown of Marinduque, life transforms into something almost cinematic. From blood-streaked penitents to the chilling clang of wooden swords, the Moriones Festival isn’t just a celebration—it’s a deeply spiritual, dramatic, and unforgettable experience that shaped my childhood and continues to hold meaning in my adult life.
๐ When Does the Moriones Festival Happen?
If memory serves me right, the actual Moriones Festival begins on Good Friday, with the crucifixion of Jesus, and climaxes on Easter Sunday with the resurrection and the beheading of Longinus—a Roman centurion who proclaimed the miracle.
✝️ Good Friday: A Dramatization That Feels Real
From Monday to Friday, townspeople gather to reenact key moments from the Passion of Christ. I remember one year vividly—my sister played Mary, and we watched the entire ordeal unfold.
When I say “ordeal,” I mean it. They don't just act; they live the scene. From carrying the heavy wooden cross to Jesus falling, crying out in pain, and finally being crucified—it’s intense. Not staged. Raw. Emotional. Human.
As kids, we waited outside the church to join the procession. Sometimes, if we were late (we lived far!), we’d catch up down the road—candles ready, asking strangers if we could light ours from theirs. The walk was always quiet and solemn, winding through the whole town.
๐ค Black Saturday: A Moment of Eerie Silence
The next day felt... different. Quiet. The kind of silence that blankets a place after something monumental.
Yet the streets weren’t completely still. You’d still see Morion-clad men—locals in their Roman costumes and wooden masks—wandering around.
And then you'd hear it: someone running and yelling. Don’t panic. It’s Longinus, proclaiming that Jesus has risen.
But just like in the story, it doesn’t end well.
Morions (Roman soldiers) chase him through the streets, and in front of the entire town gathered in the plaza, they behead him—dramatically, of course. As a kid, this was traumatizing. I thought it was real! But over time, I understood: this was the heart of the Moriones Festival.
๐ Easter Sunday: Pagsalubong and Early Morning Memories
Easter Sunday meant waking up at dawn to go to the tiangge (market). My mom would sell everything from fruits and vegetables to random goods. I’d be walking half-asleep, eyes closed, veggies almost falling from my basket. My mom would nudge me, “Uy, nahuhulog na!”
Because we were so early, we always got to witness the beautiful ceremony called “Pagsalubong.” It’s the moment when Mary and the Risen Christ meet again, symbolizing reunion and triumph.
Fake angels floated above the church. Flowers were everywhere. Soft hymns played. For a child, it was magical—something I’ve never forgotten.
๐ฉธ Acts of Penance: Faith Through Pain
Along the way, you’ll see people bleeding—real blood. Some men and women cut themselves with razor blades, then whip their backs with wooden rods as an act of penance for their sins.
My Nanay once told me the number of rods equals the number of years they commit to this sacrifice. Some even lay flat on the road, waiting for townsfolk to step on them. As a child, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’d lightly tap with my toe and skip over them. But my naughty sister? She’d jump on them like a game.
And after all this pain? They’d go straight into the sea to heal. Imagine the sting.
๐ก️ The Morion Mask: Behind the Wood and Paint
Wearing the Morion mask is itself a form of penance. The heat under the costume is punishing, especially at midday. But you’ll still see them—parading, posing, even scaring little kids.
One time, I asked my mom why an old man in our town became blind. She said it was because of wearing the mask. Who knows if that’s true—but it stuck with me.
Back then, there were no streetlights. We’d walk home from the procession in the dark, candles lighting our way. Maybe that was our little form of penance too.
๐งก Passing the Tradition On
Everything I know about this story—about Jesus, Longinus, and the Roman soldiers—I learned not from books, but from the dramatizations in my town. And I believed it. Still do.
Now that I’m older, it’s a tradition I hope to pass down to my son. If given the chance, I want him to see it, feel it, and believe it too.
๐ The Moriones Festival isn’t just about costumes and drama—it’s about faith, community, sacrifice, and memory. It’s terrifying, beautiful, and deeply Filipino.
If you ever get the chance, come to Marinduque during Holy Week. Witness it for yourself. But be warned—it’s not just a show. It’s a spiritual journey you’ll never forget.
๐ฏ️ Planning to Experience the Moriones Festival?
๐ Location:
Marinduque, Philippines
๐
Best time to go: Holy Week (Good Friday to Easter Sunday)
๐ฃ
What to bring: Comfortable shoes, candles, water, and an open heart
๐ Be respectful, stay curious, and don’t forget to bring your faith.
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