Monday, April 6, 2009

Un Viernes Santo sin tregua

I lay in bed yesterday morning listening to Eugenio's peppy voice on the radio exhorting the faithful to rise and shine, put on something red (his favorite color and the liturgical hue of the day) and hurry to church to wave palm fronds and reenact Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem.

I sighed. All I could think about was the litany of absurd and violent deaths the last couple of days:

Death and violence. Violence and death. Death and violence. Un Viernes Santo sin tregua.

In this context, the popularity of La Santa Muerte makes sense. The available evidence suggests that she is running the show, not el Rey de Reyes. Singing hosannas to the King of Kings feels like a charade when the only words my heart can form are: "My God, My God, why have You forsaken us?"

I turned the radio off, wept, and went back to sleep.

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