What magic does this icon hold? What strange force drew the Cebuanos from far and near to gather together and pray as one people? There are fiestas and fiestas in the country but not one can compare in magnitude, expansiveness and spiritual intensity with the Pista Senyor.
They say that the Basilica crowd was a matter of mass psychology, a phenomenon that generated communal sentiment. But had we asked some of these who prayed the novena, danced the sinuog or walked in the procession we would have learned that they had their own personal reasons for being there. Perhaps some of them came to thank the Child Jesus for a good harvest; others were happy for getting employed; still others could be there for the healing they experienced; and still others were simply exuberant for the good health and good life they enjoyed. Many had come for no distinct reason except that some strange attraction drew them towards the dark icon. Whatever it was that made people gravitate to the Child's sanctuary, faith was behind it all, a solid almost palpable faith on the miraculous nature of the Santo Niño de Cebu.
As a Cebuano I grew up in the shadow of such faith. My mother (bless her soul!), a devout Catholic, took her faith in the Child Jesus so seriously that He was the first she would rush to whenever any of us children would get sick. It was then that certain Fridays would find us lining up to pay homage to the holy icon. We would hear the Mass after which we would go out to the churchyard where we kids would be entrusted to the aging arms of sinuog dancers who would gyrate and sway, shouting "Pit Senyor, kang undo kini!" It was not a pleasant experience for kids of course because the dancers usually smelt of something unpleasant. But mother would accept no excuses. She had promised the patron saint such ritual and so on it would have to be performed.
Of course Pista Senyor week was a grand affair for mother and the family. I remember being roused from sleep at dawn for an early morning walk to San Agustin church to take part in the novena. And I remember too standing for hours on the sidewalk as we waited for the Santo Niño caro to pass by. We would then kneel on both knees as it passed in front of us and mother would be teary-eyed as she gazed on the lighted platform carrying the miraculous icon.
Yes, every Cebuano who celebrates the Fiesta Señor these days has his own childhood tale on this feast. It could be a tale of joy or a tale of sorrow. Whatever it is, it is inevitably a tale of faith - faith made stronger by happenings prayed for and happenings which came to pass.
When hope becomes elusive, the Cebuano prays, and prays almost always to his "Brother Cebuano", the Santo Niño. Almost always too, through some unexplained events, help comes and hope is restored. Skeptics there are as always, but even these are taking notice of the Santo Niño especially during His feast day. They may not acknowledge His bounty - a fairly prosperous and livable city almost typhoon free, a vibrant local economy, a tourist haven, a group of conscience-driven leaders - but they savor these as part of the Cebuano's way of life. They celebrate the Pista Senyor.
Even Cebuanos who have been away from home for years come back to glorify Cebu's premiere religious event. Perhaps the Sinulog mardi gras plays the tourist's itch for them, but just the same they end up as pilgrims at the Basilica. Indeed, since nothing happens without God's knowledge, the Sinulog mardi gras could be the Santo Niño's handiwork designed to draw more people to His feast day. In grandeur and appeal, the Sinulog has grown into a gigantic extravaganza for feast-loving Cebuanos and non-Cebuanos alike. As such it has placed Cebu in the map of tourism authorities abroad and has contributed significantly to the rise of an upbeat local economy.
Indeed, while the Pista Senyor has evolved into a big communal journey of faith, the Sinulog has morphed into a celebration of life, a festival of oneness and goodwill.