Why Filipino Catholicism Looks So Cringey: Spectacle and Substance in the Contemporary Church

We are pleased to present a guest article on Catholicism in the Philippines by a long time friend and supporter of this blog writing under the pseudonym Didacus. This essay was composed in response to the recent cringe-inducing video of Filipino seminarians dancing and singing the official Philippine "theme song" of the Synod on Synodality. In this piece, Didacus attempts to answer the question, "Why is Philippine Catholicism so cringey?" It is a deceptively simple question whose answer takes us on an in depth exploration of Philippine history, identity, and pop culture, with especial emphasis on the Philippine "variety shows," which Didacus argues are a template for understanding Catholicism in the Philippines.

One more thing: If you have any interest in getting a basic understanding of Philippine history, I have a book on this subject from Arx Publishing entitled The Story of the Philippines: God's Rampart in Asia you may want to check out.  Many thanks to Didacus for this long and insightful commentary.

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Recently, faithful followers of this blog's Faceboog page saw, against their will, a video of Filipino seminarians dancing to the cheesy official theme song of the Synod on Synodality in the Philippines (If you don't know what I"m referring to, the song can be manfully endured here). As expected, the comments on the Facebook page rightfully made fun of how cringey it was. I think most younger American Catholics, even if they do not usually attend the TLM, would also agree if they’d seen it. The instantaneous nature of social media makes it easy to disabuse our common notions about distant shores. Anecdotally, I had seen comments online from well-meaning American Catholics lavishing praises on their Filipino brethren for their zeal and religiosity, with the assumption that this translates to things like the liturgy as well; after all, the Philippines is the only country in the world without divorce besides the Vatican. But this dancing video and other posts making the rounds online are leading trads to call into question the general state of things in Philippine Catholicism, primarily when it comes to liturgical sanity.

Obviously, this one video should not be an indictment of the wide tapestry that is the Philippine Church. To start with, one cannot conceive of Philippine history and culture—much less the question of Filipino nationhood—without reference to the Church. However, in this essay I would like to shed light on why the Philippines just keeps churning out boomerific nonsense like this, in terms of particular aspects of its history and culture, while focusing on the relatively recent rise of Filipino-style variety shows. Next, I would try to connect this to the larger trend of aggiornamento in the post-Vatican II Church qua event, as it came to pass during the sixties and seventies. Ultimately, I seek to paint a picture of a national church that has been hobbled by the noxious developments of late modernity, despite trying to remain a voice of reason in a country that, like the rest of the world, is increasingly falling into madness. As the writer of this piece, I should say, I was born and raised Filipino but have been living in the United States for the last 11 years.

"In every step, there's a prayer"

 

The Filipino joie de vivre

The Philippines is situated next to the Pacific Ocean––which is the most geologically-active region on earth and a source of endless typhoons that come through the islands. Nothing illustrates this unlucky concatenation of geographic factors than the massive Luzon earthquake of 1990, followed less than a year later by the eruption of Mount Pinatubo while the winds of Typhoon Yunya were buffeting everything along its path. If you add to this the chronic poverty and broken political institutions that Filipinos have to deal with, one would think that Filipinos are given to fatalism and despair. But this is only half-true; Filipinos actually are a joyous, resilient, and hopeful people. And while fatalism is considered a Filipino trait (encapsulated by the expression bahala na in Tagalog—"come what may"), the Filipino is happily resigned to what God has ordained for him. This cheerful resignation in the face of many difficulties is perceived both by Filipinos about themselves and by foreign observers; the Philippines was rated one of the world’s happiest countries recently according to one international survey. It is, perhaps, precisely due to the need to help each other and to cope psychologically with natural disasters and other man-made upheavals that Filipinos have developed a culture that promotes cooperation, solidarity, hospitality, and a strong sense of gratitude for the simpler joys of life. This is also most likely why Roman Catholicism as introduced by Spanish conquistadors made easy inroads among the Filipino people. It is a fair question to ask if it was Catholicism that made Filipinos a hopeful, resilient people, or if Filipinos had already possessed these characteristics which then convinced them to seek baptism. But it is not really hard to see why a religion founded on the hope of the Resurrection and the redemptive power of suffering flourished on this storm-tossed, volcano-strewn archipelago in the tropics.

This indomitable cheerfulness does shine warm and bright as the sun over the Philippine sky whenever it catches a break from earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and typhoon surges. As a tropical culture, the Philippines shares many cultural traits as well with other warmer areas of the globe. One can observe that the Philippines shares an openness and abandon that are easily seen in Mediterranean cultures such as Spain, which was another factor for the relatively harmonious acceptance of Spanish cultural influences among Filipinos. When not dealing with disasters, Filipinos can celebrate various occasions great and small like there is no tomorrow—and it is never a mean party when either family, friends, or the whole community is always involved. Before the Spaniards arrived, these took the form of communal celebrations that attended harvests, the change of seasons, marriages, births, and other important events that marked communal life. After the Spaniards arrived in 1565 and stayed for the next 333 years, this took the form of the town fiesta.

From Fiestas to Variety Shows

The sanctoral cycle was a natural addition to the life of the hundreds of communities that made up the islands at the dawn of the Spanish colonization, being easily incorporated to the existing pagan festivities. Nothing much changed when the patronal feasts replaced these earlier celebrations, except perhaps the scale of the merrymaking, which then came to include Masses, processions, novenas, and other devotional practices unique to the islands, but was never complete without a lot of eating, drinking, singing, and dancing. Even today every Filipino celebration, whether it’s a small party among friends or a big festival, is always accompanied with food, drink, and lively music. It’s no mystery, for one, why karaoke is considered the national pastime, and that why Filipinos seem to be really talented at it, as attested by clips on Tiktok and Instagram of them singing up to par with Western pop stars. But even before social media, Filipinos have been singing on the streets, in bars, even in classrooms and offices; basically, in pretty much wherever it’s acceptable for silence to be interrupted.

Under Spanish rule, Filipinos were also introduced to European performing arts and musical forms. At first, this took purely religious forms from the Middle Ages such as the passion play (senakulo) and chanted epic poems (pasyon) about the suffering and death of Christ. With the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869, the Philippines forged even closer links to the mother country, exposing a generation of Filipinos to novel forms of theater, orchestral music, and with opera—particularly its Spanish version, the zarzuela (sarswela). The zarzuela is similar to the German singspiel in that it mixed music and spoken dialogue together and dealt with plots that are comedic or romantic in nature. Parallel developments in sacred music did keep pace; liturgical music that were popular in Spain in the nineteenth century also made their way to local parishes. These Mass settings, called misas pastorelas, are still commonly used as settings for Masses at Lent and Christmas in rural areas.

During the American occupation (1898-1945), the popularity of the zarzuela eventually gave way to the vaudeville (bodabil). Vaudeville as introduced by the Americans consisted of a variety of genres performed consecutively, such as songs, dancing, comedic skits, acrobatics, performance magic, circus tricks, and even athletic performances. Many popular actors in what is considered the Philippine golden age of cinema (coincidentally during the fifties and sixties) got their break into the entertainment industry through bodabil. The genre proved to be sellable to the masses after independence, but with the advent of television in the late fifties to early sixties it in turn lost its audience to variety shows.

The variety show, while not originally a Filipino development, remains a staple of Filipino television today, and has been able to keep itself relevant despite the rise of streaming. Varierty shows occupy the coveted noontime slots of networks, beginning in the late fifties when the majority of Filipino women were housewives, but also when Filipino pupils were allowed to take their lunches at home. These demographic groups remain the majority audience for variety shows today. With the advent of cable television in the nineties, everyone from the middle-class up obtained more choices in programming, which tilted the viewership of these shows toward the working-class as well.

The first variety show was Student Canteen which ran from 1958 to 1990, but the longest-running and most successful of them all was its rival Eat Bulaga, which has been running across multiple networks since 1979. While in the US, variety shows like The Ed Sullivan Show were mostly just the vaudeville on camera, Filipino culture would add its unique twist to the genre in the form of games and contests. Large monetary prizes came to be at stake, thanks to the rapid expansion of media and thus corporate sponsors vying for advertising space. Name it—if it exists and can prove popular to the masses, it can be made into some cheap gimmick that can rake in a lot of money not only for the contestants themselves, but especially for the show producers and corporate interests involved. Eat Bulaga, throughout its life, has hosted beauty pageants, quizzing shows, stunt challenges à la Fear Factor, episodic skits, and of course, singing and dancing competitions. Think of the Superbowl, but instead of one Sunday in February, it’s every weekday. Instead of just football, you also have mini-episodes of Miss Universe, American Ninja Warrior, Jeopardy, and a Big Bang Theory episode all within a three-hour time slot. And as you expected, lots of commercials.

A dance number before the start of a game show in Eat Bulaga, the longest running 

Filipino variety show

Old Church, New Media

The Philippine Church, like the worldwide Catholic Church during the twentieth century, followed the rapid developments in mass communications and adopted them for its evangelizing mission, expanding its already hegemonic presence to the living room of every Filipino household. Radio Veritas, a radio station that broadcasts not only in the country but also across all of Asia, was founded shortly before Vatican II in 1958. It proved crucial to making the People Power Revolution possible in 1986, striking the killing blow to the already weakened 21-year rule of the strongman Ferdinand Marcos. Besides Radio Veritas, the Catholic Church also owns or is affiliated with multiple TV channels (such as the El Shaddai network, run by charismatics), newspapers, magazines, and more recently, online streaming. In any major network, there is bound to be a Catholic-themed show sometime in the week.

But the media presence of the Catholic Church is felt most keenly during the Sacred Triduum within Holy Week, where normal programming is suspended and substituted for religious programming in the form of religious movies like the Passion of the Christ, live broadcasts of processions and popular devotions (especially the infamous and bloody Maleldo rites in Pampanga province), the Triduum liturgies themselves, and other wholesome or faith-themed programming. In fact, Eat Bulaga itself airs special one-episode stories in lieu of its regular fare, with its hosts serving as actors. During this time, everything is solemn as befitting the dignity of the week of the Lord’s Passion, and all is thankfully free of cringe.

The Coming Paradigm Shift

From the first Mass celebrated in Limasawa island and the baptism of the first Filipino converts in Cebu during Magellan’s expedition, the Church has exercised a profound influence on Filipino culture; as mentioned earlier, there is no conception of Filipino identity possible without reference to Catholicism. Indeed, it can be easily argued that the usual constituents of the nation-state like a common language and a single government were only able to build on the foundations of a pre-existing Catholic identity among the majority lowland population.

The Catholic Church’s role as the moral guardian of the nascent nation’s conscience went unchallenged for centuries until the advent of nationalism and liberalism in the nineteenth century; this took the form of the so-called Propaganda Movement of the late century when Spanish-educated Filipino elites began petitioning liberal reforms in Spain to be applied in the Philippines. An emergent Filipino counter-elite composed of Spanish-descended criollos, wealthy natives then called indios, and assimilated Chinese mestizos began to see the dominance of the Catholic Church in terms of national liberation and self-determination after the failed Secularization movement which raged throughout the greater part of the century. This conflict, which started as an internecine ecclesiastical dispute on canonical jurisdiction, later acquired political and ethnic dimensions, since native-born secular priests struggled against Spanish-born regular priests of religious orders who refused to cede parishes assigned to them. The implication was that the native Filipino inhabitants were still living in mission territory and thus could not be considered capable of taking over the Catholic hierarchy, which also implied that Filipinos were not able to handle their own secular affairs. Thus it happened that the rise of Filipino nationalism was defined negatively in terms of the opposition of the “abusive friars” which nationalist propaganda successfully tacked onto the Catholic Church—a piece of invective rhetoric that has always proved useful for Filipino politicians whenever they come to butt heads with the Church over issues of faith and morals.

With the Americans introducing the separation of church and state, allowing the spread of Protestantism, and entrenching liberal-democratic ideals, the Church lost its political privileges and its singular influence over politics, morality, and the wider culture. However, it can be said that the Filipino clergy that gradually took over the hierarchy during this time did inherit the self-assured gravitas that befit the Church’s role as the islands’ preeminent moral authority. Perhaps, this might have expressed itself with the tinge of a “fortress mentality” that defined how the universal Church grappled with a fast-changing globe of new technologies and ideas, unleashed by the liberal and technological revolutions of the preceding two centuries. But as the world recovered from the devastation caused by the Second World War, the political and intellectual classes of the victorious Allies concluded that these new ideas cannot be implemented soon enough, nor did it suffice to blame repressive systems of government. For it was from the same strictures borne of tradition, custom, nationalism, and the strict piety of religious faith which allowed hatred, violence, and genocide to almost destroy the world, given that all these things are defined by the Other’s exclusion. Whether consciously or unconsciously, whether through technological innovations or revolutionary movements, the world began to open up to the values of the open society. We already know how this affected the universal Church—the legacy of the Second Vatican Council that we know fully too well in the West.

The Philippine Church quickly followed these mid-century developments. One important event that defined the opposition of the Church with emerging liberalism was the controversy surrounding the Rizal Bill of the fifties, which mandated the teaching of the novels Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo in all schools, written by no less than the moral and intellectual leader of Philippine nationalism, the national hero José Rizal. It will probably take a whole study of the ramifications of the event to determine if this was the spark that precipitated the national version of aggiornamento, but it is evident from the Church’s failure to prevent its signing into law that it was already losing its influence. It is safe to assume then that not a few local clerics wondered if a different outlook was possible. Therefore, the Philippine Church sought to remake its image to be more approachable, friendly, open, and accepting, while at the same time trying to remain faithful to its historic mission to the Filipino people. And what better way was there than to identify oneself with the variety shows that arose with the paradigm shift of the sixties?

It’s Showtime, People (of God)!

It is, then, at the crossroads of popular culture and a Church seeking contemporary relevance that we get the dancing seminarians video—this is nothing else but the Philippine Church turning aspects of its liturgy and its missionary activity into another variety show production. This is why it also isn’t surprising to see someone like Cardinal Tagle feeling like he needs to be a performer, as seen in this short of him singing “Imagine” by John Lennon. In the case of many Filipino priests, there has been a desire to be entertaining like a variety show host, or at least present themselves as if they have an A-lister’s hip and cool public persona. One can see how this applies, for example, when it comes to how the liturgy is conducted; you have priests add in the same cringey song and dance numbers in homilies, act like talk show hosts as they deliver corny jokes from the pulpit, or else employ spectacles and other inappropriate distractions, in order to grab (and hopefully keep) the congregation’s attention. Or else, there is a constant need to inflict forced charisma on people through mandatory song numbers and other talent displays on every occasion, nowadays especially in social media. If all of this sounds familiar, make the appropriate cultural translation, and you will see that it is not very different from being subjected to the mercy of a Mass presided over by Fr. Bob Boomer.

If only the Bologna School were actually a school for singing

But the worst aspect of this banalization of the image of the Church and priesthood is probably the effeminacy inherent in the variety shows. Variety show entertainment tends to be campy, featuring bombastic antics from hosts, who encourage the same behavior from the contestants. And since a significant chunk of the variety shows' audience is composed of women and young people, we end up with content that is given to levity, a more relaxed atmosphere, and youthful irreverence. More importantly, LGBT-identifying performers commonly fill the ranks of hosts and comedians, who moreover act raunchier and more flamboyant than their heterosexual equivalents. It’s not surprising that the variety shows frequently get suspended by the MTRCB, a Filipino government agency that can enforce media standards, because of things like sexually-charged language, the simulation of sexual acts, and other off-color jokes and innuendos. 

But if we are talking about a more insidious form of effeminacy, which St Thomas properly defines as the reluctance to undergo difficulties or forsake pleasures (II-II, q.138, a.1), a discerning critic can accuse variety shows of essentially promoting a get-rich scheme among the poor that also make up a lot of its viewership, with the millions of pesos they promise to anyone lucky enough to win their numerous contests. This popular frenzy turned into tragedy in 2006 when a stampede in one variety show killed 73 people and wounded 400 others, because apparently the crowd trying to enter the stadium where the show was being held thought that they were running out of tickets.

Now, I am not suggesting that clerics correspondingly descend to the level of rainbow insanity that many of these shows go to. The Philippine Church still speaks out as the voice of morality when needed; the Church throughout the 2000s consistently opposed the Reproductive Health Bill which mandated government funding and promotion of contraceptives, for example (though it ultimately failed to prevent its passing in 2012). Later, during the Duterte administration’s drug war from 2016 to 2022, the Church also picked up the fight against extrajudicial killings and other human rights abuses committed by the police. Fortunately, there are still Catholic clergy who take not only their duties seriously, but also preserve an image of dignified authority. Cardinal Pablo David, for example, who received the red hat from Pope Francis for leading the bishops’ response against the same drug war, has, to my knowledge, never felt the need to engage in these silly antics. But even if the Church doesn’t fully adopt this vulgar effeminacy, it nevertheless has no shortage of priests who make fools of themselves pretending like they are hosts or performers in variety shows, or else cultivate this personality in their ministry. But with the desire to be liked and to be perceived as being likeable, the insidious form of effeminacy mentioned above rears its ugly head in this context whenever the Church seeks more adulation. As a result, priests grow increasingly coy about preaching hard, challenging truths. In every embarrassing attempt at a John Lennon impression, an admonition to respect the sanctity of life loses its evangelistic tenor, dulling its prophetic summons.

Yet, this supposed need on the part of the hierarchy to adopt a cooler, more congenial image is fundamentally about the question of who should dictate and set the tone of the culture—is it the Church, or worldly forces that push effeminacy, license, and brainrot through the mass media? The postconciliar strategy for evangelization, after all, consists of the Church relating to the world, because it thinks that to be effective, it should not be left behind by the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut that is progress. Ultimately, however, this is already a concession that the Church does not have the power to shape the wider culture anymore—it can’t beat it, so it might as well join it, with the presumption that it can gently prod it toward the right direction. But, as we have seen consistently, the Church just ends up being a lousy competitor to these spectacles of modern culture, whether it be American sports or Philippine variety shows. Like Lenny Wosniak in 30 Rock thinking that he’s blending in with the kids with his baggy skateboarder getup, everyone eventually sees the farce that the Church has been forcing itself into, even if it looks appealing at first. By its very nature, the Church cannot abandon its ancient bearings behind without losing its soul completely; at most, it becomes a bizarre attraction worthy of a feature in a Ripley’s Believe it or Not! episode. Yet the Church is bound to fail to adapt to the latest, passing trends, partly because it is an ancient institution which by nature is characterized by inertia toward innovation, but fundamentally because she is the Bride of Christ, called to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

"How do you do, fellow Catholics?"

A Culture and Church in Crisis

As I’ve mentioned, Filipinos tend to have a more relaxed, laid-back outlook of life despite the natural and institutional environment that they inhabit. And every culture’s strengths in one area can be weaknesses in another context. As the Philippine Church has conceded the pride of place of its influence to mass media, variety shows and other degenerate programming has pushed aspects of the culture that are good in moderation to the point of dissolute excesses, owing to the perverted incentives of popular consumerism. Filipino culture in its Apollonian face values solidarity, community, resilience, filial piety, modesty, and religiosity. But as the Church sabotages itself, it gives free rein over a Dionysian corruption that laps up the latest materialistic trends and promotes cheap thrills to men and women, trivializes sexual behavior among young people, fosters a get-rich-quick mentality among the most indigent, and encourages self-emasculating antics among priests.

As of today, reverence for Holy Mother Church and respect for authority and tradition mostly remains, but only time will tell how long this respect will last, given the insidious spread of the gray goo that is globalized neoliberalism and the universal Church’s supine attitude toward it. The Philippines is still mostly Catholic, and specifically the Diocese of Tagbilaran, where these dancing seminarians are from, has better vocational numbers than many American dioceses. This may partly explain why the Filipino Church in general can get away with a lot of these shenanigans—at least for now. It can simply be that different countries react differently to the expansion of late-stage liberalism. But it could also be that many of these attendant changes to the culture have not taken place yet because of a corresponding lack of economic development in the neoliberal model, which has so far accompanied profound changes in this direction. However, recent signs indicate the latter; for one, the Philippine birth rate for the first time in centuries is now below the 2.1 replacement rate, being now at 1.9. I can personally attest to the fact that many of my classmates and childhood friends are neither married nor have children. In the span of one generation, we might be confronted by the loss of cousins due to smaller families, which has long been the case in many wealthy countries like the United States. Also, the question of divorce, and thus the attendant social slippery slope that accompanies it, looms large yet again in the current agenda of the Philippine Congress. Public discussions about same-sex marriage and abortion are also gaining momentum.

A Filipino layman greets Cardinal Tagle through the filial mano gesture

A Hope of Restoration

I’d like to conclude with a popular Catholic song that has been mostly forgotten by younger generations due to the dominance of Western-influenced mass media and performance arts, if only to give you a small glimpse of what Filipino Catholicism without compromises looked like.

The song No mas amor que el tuyo was composed by Manuel Bernabe (lyrics) and Simeon Resurrection (music) and was chosen to be the theme song for the 33rd International Eucharistic Congress held in Manila in 1937. In time, it came to be known as a well-beloved Filipino devotional song to the Sacred Heart. My hope is that, if the Philippines is going to be influenced Western trends, then it should at least take cues from a small but growing Traditionalist movement to recover the riches of the preconciliar Church. There is a small number of younger Filipinos who have rediscovered these treasures, owing to social media and contemporary content platforms like YouTube. The song in its entirety represents who the Filipino is and what he stands for, brought into the full bloom of culture and civilization by the Gospel which arrived in his shores 500 years ago. The original Spanish reflects the happy marriage of Hispanicity and Orientalism that defines his identity, the sweet melody sings of his joyous disposition and warm hospitality toward his fellow man, and the hopeful lyrics proclaim the ardor in his heart that burns for his Savior. And he is, finally, an heir to a Catholicism which with manly courage has always preached beauty and truth to a world mired by ugliness and lies.