Millions of Filipinos around the world are Catholic, thanks to the Spanish colonizers who introduced the religion mainly as a tool for social control. But we must be careful in thinking that the Catholicism of the colonizers is the same as Philippine Catholicism, particularly in the way it is understood and practiced.
For the most part, it looks the same, sounds the same, and in many cases even feels the same, but if we look closely, the religiosity of the everyday Filipino is not really the same.
We treat saints the same way our ancestors used to treat their anito. Our fiestas, today a celebration of Catholic spirits, are rooted in the old pagan traditions. The way most Filipino Catholics do their panata (devotion) and pamumuwesto (pilgrimage) follows the same principles as the folk practitioner. Home altars contain a variety of religious images, from Catholic to Feng Shui—likely in an attempt to harness and appease every power “just in case.” This is why many social scientists in the past have called it “Christianized Animism.”
This week is Holy Week, a commemoration of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection, symbolizing the spirit’s rebirth through suffering. I am not a pastor, so you do not need to hear from me the theological and moral importance of Holy Week and Lenten Season in general. I am a psychological researcher, so my interest is not in what people should be doing during this time, but what people are doing, and what this might imply about us and how we relate with the world. It is not my place to judge anyone’s spiritual belief system. This is how people make meaning of the world and their lives. I always approach the unfamiliar with an open heart (bukas loob), because beneath it all we really are more similar with each other than we think.
Read: Holy Week 2025: An Inquirer.net Special
Across the archipelago, the albularyo, baylan, and antingero are preparing. This is a spiritually powerful time for them. A surwano explained to me that, for some reason, this time is just more “clear,” and so it is easier to do magic. (Like a sunny day, she said.)
Another reason is that Christ (that is, the authority) is dead and the spirits of the earth and underworld are more confident to roam around and strike bargains with people. Albularyos would look for their special herbs; baylans gather in sacred mountains and forests, and some of them engage with each other through balete trees; antingeros make and charge their anting-anting.
One antingero told me that this is also the best time to collect dignum, a kind of magical wood that supposedly only appears to the worthy. Historically, antingeros would take blessed materials from churches during Holy Week (such as fragments of the Paschal candle or a brass bell), and those pieces would be used as anting-anting. Many of them do this as a process of inner transformation (pagbabagong-loob), or as a way to align their individual spirit with the larger spirit that moves the world.
The Jesuit psychologist Jaime Bulatao studied these topics decades ago, and from him we can borrow an important psycho-spiritual concept: what he called the “Filipino Transpersonal Worldview.”
According to Bulatao, most Filipinos see the world in a “transpersonal” way. This academic term just means, experiencing the self beyond the body. This might sound strange, because we think we are limited to our physical forms. But think about how you have felt whenever you see a magnificent sunset, and you suddenly feel like you’re part of a real, beautiful, and loving universe. It is always hard to explain, but the sensation is profound.
Also try to remember the feeling of being so invested in a sports game or concert or beauty pageant that your voice is drowned out in the crowd, and you feel like you are part of one shared spirit. These are all “transpersonal” experiences.
Bulatao said that Philippine spirituality is transpersonal: we interact with the world as if it were part of us, that the spirits of nature and religion are neighbors and family members. In a previous essay, I wrote about family dynamics in Philippine politics—and this is what I mean.
Read: Family dynamics and Philippine politics
So, during this Holy Week, we see this “transpersonal worldview” in action. For most of the year, we are separate from each other. We have different political beliefs, we have different economic needs, we have different tasks and duties in life. We are too busy with our own, and our family’s, well-being (kaginhawaan). But during holidays such as these (remember, “holiday” is rooted in the phrase “holy day”), many of us begin to acknowledge the more spiritual aspects of our lives, especially in how these spiritual things actually influence every other part of lives.
To be clear, I am not writing this just for Catholics. This is not only a religious thing; it is also a cultural experience. If you are not a religious person, you can still experience the transpersonal in your own way. We know that Holy Week is a long, non-working holiday, and many people take this time to travel with their families or rest at home. Our tendency might be to distract ourselves with screen time and doomscrolling on our phones. This is because we do not actually want to listen to the feelings we have buried deep within us: the anger, discontent, resentment, anxiety, and sadness that has built up every other day of the year because of our work and social relationships. So, even though we get to rest from our duties, we are not really letting our spirit breathe.
When was the last time you just sat down and listened to the feelings of your body? When was the last time you took care of yourself—and I mean actual care, by doing things that you really enjoy? This does not have to cost anything; it could be having an honest and vulnerable conversation with a loved one, or starting on that art project you have been putting off, or even listening to your favorite album from your favorite artist.
When was the last time you stared at the sky, or the trees, or the flow of a stream and really let your mind wander? This was the secret of the old animists: the spirits were not really specific entities, they were auras or feelings from the environment. The solemnity we feel in ancient forests or mountains: that is the “diwata.”
Religion has given us convenient symbols to use, so that we can easily access these vital realities. But on the most basic level, it really is about realizing that the world outside our bodies and the world within our minds are one. Sometimes, they are misaligned. Our expectations are not matched; we get disappointed by how people treat us; the stress of the physical world tires us out.
The themes of suffering, renewal, and rebirth during Holy Week are relevant to the personal process we must all go through if we want to realign the inner and outer worlds. When there is misalignment, we feel angry and alone. When they are aligned, we feel like we are one with everything. We feel God’s will and presence in our lives (loob ng Maykapal).
This is what it really means to be “transpersonal.” So, if we want to go through our own transformation (pagbabagong-loob), then we must be ready to feel some discomfort.
You can do panata, pamumuwesto, Visita Iglesia, and all other religious rituals. You can participate in the stations of the cross. But, on a psychological level, these should also help you connect with what is most important to the human experience: your personal relationship with kapwa, nature, and God.
