(Traditional edition of January 17, 2015)
If we speak seriously about tradition, allow me to say we have
to look no farther. This stormy-but-sturdy country has lots of surplus, and
they’re flowing like a river. “How about traditional politicians?” you ask me,
and I’d answer, if you could find ten politicians who are not, it means the
world has gone crazy, brother.
When one decides to enter the dirty world of politics but
determined himself not to compromise, definitely he’s neither politically
healthy nor he’s going to be wealthy howbeit he is spiritually wise.
For politics and tradition go hand in hand almost everywhere as
they are inseparable forever. Like Jekyll and Hyde or Bonnie and Clyde, who
joined together and almost no man put them asunder.
Even non-Catholics too couldn’t shake off tradition as easy as a
magician says “Abracadabra.” As you can see, in general, Baptists do not
celebrate their locality’s “patronal fiesta.” However, when they go to a fiesta
of some place in honor of this “Santo” or that “Santa,” the “liberal” Baptists
devour every meat offered them while the “radical” ones would prefer pasta.
They said in confidence they just visit friends in accordance
with tradition. And they would later scramble for any verse needed for
justification.
Well, loyalty to friends is indeed one of the traditions we
never forsook, it’s a street education or a playground’s course we gladly took.
We have learned this thing upclose and personal in conventional way and I mean
personal touch, way before the advent of Facebook.
In Kirayan, in the sides of the North, how could we not develop
such kind of friendship into full-blown relationship when eversince the world
began it was as if we were weaned and kept together in one crib?
Therefore when one of our friends finally married the only girl
he would worship, the rest did follow them all the way to Baguio, even up to
their honeymoon’s doorstep.
And if that groom said their rendezvous with us like troopers of
Starship after all still had a peaceful result, please, in him do not believe.
I tell you, aside from his endless grumbling and tirades, what we did would he
often re-live, and there’s daily blame that we receive.
Thus, we are arduously punished by vowing a vow that we already
made, that during and every wedding anniversary of them, whether it’d be held
in a palace or in a cave, we have to constrain ourselves to re-gather together
or send a spouse as representative.
And for fifteen years we have successfully upheld and followed
that tradition as if it’s written in a star, except in those times when one or
some of us happened to be sailing the high seas or had relocated too far.
But so long as good health stays stellar and there’s no some
other compelling reasons to bar, anyone calling my CP on their anniversary can
say, tell me if these your friends are, and I’ll tell you where you are.
But there are some traditions of men we can’t avoid to ask, how
long will we suffer them, before our lives would not anymore be affected, or,
God forbid, ruined? Jesus said, “In vain do they worship me, teaching for
doctrines the commandments of men… laying aside the commandments of God, ye
hold the tradition of men” (Mark 7:7-8).
Truly, there is great pride seeing us all living our tradition
in one accord. We preserve our culture; we make peace instead of crossing a
sword.
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