Pabasa—How It Started

It didn’t begin as singing. It became one voice after another, carrying a story that refuses to stop.

Holy Week in the Philippines has a sound. A steady chant. Voices taking turns. A story moving forward, line by line. That sound is Pabasa (chanting of the Passion).

But it didn’t begin as singing.

It started during the Spanish period, around the 1500s, when missionaries brought Christianity to the Philippines. The story of Jesus Christ was there, but there was a problem. The Bible was in Latin or Spanish, and most Filipinos spoke their own languages. Many could not read formal texts.

So the message had to change form.

Instead of teaching through books, they turned the story into poetry. This became the Pasyon (Passion of Christ), a long Tagalog poem that tells the life, suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It was easier to remember, easier to follow, and closer to how people already shared stories.

The real change came from the people.

Filipinos began to chant the Pasyon. They gave it melody. They turned it into something you don’t just read, but continue. One voice starts, another follows, then another. Hours pass. The story keeps going.

That became Pabasa.

It wasn’t planned and it wasn’t designed as a performance. It simply grew that way.

Over time, it moved beyond the church. Families started doing it at home. Neighborhoods joined in. Some offered it as a personal devotion, others as a shared act during Holy Week.

You don’t need a stage. You don’t need training. You just continue the line.

That’s why it stayed.

Pabasa is about keeping the story alive across voices and across time.

What began as a way to teach became something deeper. Not just something we understand, but something we take part in.

Even now, when everything is fast, Pabasa moves slowly.

And maybe that’s the point.

The story is not rushed. It is carried.

And as long as someone is willing to take the next line, it will not stop.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Praying Without Words • Darem Placer

The False Accusation

A Spanish priest in 9th century Córdoba faced a deadly accusation after a family dispute led authorities to believe he had abandoned Islam.

Roderick was a Spanish priest who lived during the time when much of Spain was under Muslim rule. He lived in the city of Córdoba in the 9th century, during a tense period of religious conflict in the region.

His story would later become part of the group known as the Martyrs of Córdoba. Christians who were executed during a tense period of religious conflict in the region.

The strange turn in his life began with a family quarrel.

Roderick had two brothers. One remained Christian like him. The other had converted to Islam. One day the two brothers got into a violent argument, and Roderick tried to break up the fight. During the chaos he was struck and knocked unconscious.

While he was out, the brother who had become Muslim reportedly told the authorities that Roderick had converted to Islam.

That claim created a serious problem. Under the laws of the time, someone who converted to Islam and later returned to Christianity was considered guilty of apostasy, meaning abandoning Islam after having accepted it.

When Roderick woke up and denied the accusation, the authorities did not accept his explanation. He was arrested and placed in prison.

While imprisoned, he met another Christian prisoner named Salomon. The two encouraged each other in faith while awaiting judgment.

In AD 857, both men were executed for refusing to abandon their Christian belief.

Sometimes faith is tested not in big public moments but in unexpected situations—even inside family conflicts. The story of Saint Roderick reminds us that even small moments of honesty and courage can matter more than we realize.

Let’s keep learning the saints’ way—day by day.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ