Faith, hope, and miracles: How traslacion and Jesus Nazarene lit ways

It is that time of the year again when a plethora of devotees flood the gates of Quiapo Church and the streets of Manila while they wear maroon shirts printed with the face of a man kneeling and carrying a cross that depicts His passion and agony. 

He is holy, adored, revered — charred. 

People were taught that He will save them from their sins, but few know why He got darkened. Later on, history has named this image as the Black Nazarene, derived from a Spanish term Nazareno or Itim na Nazareno as they say in Filipino. Today, people flock towards Him seeking divine intervention. 

Many were singing praises and chanting vivas while waving their towels and handkerchiefs, hoping to come closer for it is believed that He brings miracles and can provide solutions to any problem, and can even cure ailments known and unknown to men. 

The rule is just simple: you pray, you believe, you heal. 

A tale of mystery and survival 

Who would have thought that the Nazareno’s arrival in Manila on March 31,1606 by its long voyage from Acapulco, Mexico would later on amass faithful devotees along Plaza Miranda and the streets of Manila?

There are three tales on where the Nazareno relic got its black color. The initial is the most prominent and the one who was taught to us in our history classes in grade school. It got burned when the galleon where it was transported caught fire in the middle of the ocean. The galleon ship was destroyed, but the Nazareno image survived. 

Another version of the narrative claimed that there is no certain date when the Nazareno relic was brought to Manila by Augustinian Recollects. It stated that the sculpture includes the native Mexican culture in which the portrayal of Jesus Christ is black. 

Finally, the other one was backed up by a Monsignor. Msgr. Sabino Vengco Jr. of the Loyola School of Theology shared in a GMA News release in 2020 that the Nazareno is colored black eversince. The reason behind it, Vengco Jr. explained, is because the wood used during the sculpting process, which is mesquite wood, is dark in color much alike to Kamagong wood. 

While the relic is a symbol of hope and salvation for many, Nazareno is not just a typical religious image. It is sacred — and tough at the same time. Back then, it already survived various threatening disasters: the fire in Quiapo Church in 1791 and 1929, strong earthquakes that shakened Manila during 1645 and 1863, and even the bombing of Manila during the second World War in 1945. 

Whichever of these is believed by the devotees, it won't actually matter, or perhaps it will but for historical context only. What truly matters are the prayers answered, illnesses that were healed, and sinful souls that received salvation. 

Philippine media has been covering the Traslacion for more than a decade. Aerial footage for the past years show a sea of people filling up the bridges, avenues, and thoroughfares in Manila which are used as the route of the procession. But it isn't just a simple drone shot of millions of devotees, down there is a spectacle of how Filipino catholics are devoted to their religion. 

Traslacion, a Spanish word which means moving something from one place to another, happens annually every 9th of January. Nazareno faithfuls who participate in this often walk barefoot as part of their panata. Some of them are wishing for good health, others pray for healing, while some said it is their way of showing that they repent from their sins. 

According to an Inquirer article, the first ever traslacion was conducted between the years 1767 and 1787 when Archbishop Basilio Sancho de Santa Justa y Rufina ordered the transfer of the Nazareno relic from Intramuros to its current home, the Minor Basilica and National Shrine of Jesus Nazareno in Quiapo, to make it more accessible to the devotees. It was only in 2006 where the procession started in Quirino Grandstand for the first time because of Msgr. Josefino Ramirez who ordered it. Since then, the traslacion has become a yearly display of intense devotion of Filipino catholics to the revered image. 

In 2017, the longest duration of traslacion was recorded which lasted more than 22 hours followed by the 22 hours in 2018. In 2024, the anticipated traslacion returned after three years of hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The procession lasted for more than 15 hours and was attended by a crowd of 6.5 million devotees. 

This year, 2025, the Nazareno traversed its way back to Quiapo for almost 21 hours and drew more than 8 million devotees. 

For many of those who crowd the streets of Manila every year, the Nazareno is not just a religious figure but their last string of hope and the answer to life’s most agonizing struggles. For them, traslacion is not just a day of fervent prayer and devotion, but most notably, a sign of hope. 

Among those who joined the annual procession is Luzviminda Samson, a 47 year-old devotee of Jesus Nazarene and a resident of Quiapo. In an interview, Samson shared that her panata to join traslacion was inherited by them through their parents and was being transferred from generations after generations. 

It is her devotion and prayers that urged her to take part in the crowd that throng the streets of Manila yearly. 

“Kaligtasan ng mahal ko sa buhay at kalusugan sa aking pamilya [ang madalas kong hiling],” she said when asked what her prayers are to Nazareno. 

Samson, herself, also witnessed how traslacion and prayers unites people despite their different origins and upbringings. 

“[Overwhelming] kung paano mo [makita] ang mga taong dedikado sa kanilang dasal kahit anong hirap, pagod at pasakit. Handa sila upang makarating lang sa poon ang kanilang kahilingan,” Samson stated. 

But Samson's faith in the adored image, at times, is not smooth sailing. There are instances, according to her, that she questioned her devotion when her prayers were left unanswered. 

“Pero na-realize [ko] na basta't maghintay ka, ibibigay niya [...] Isipin mo [rin] na may plano siya para sa'yo dahil ang lahat ng bagay ay nangyayari dahil may dahilan siya at plano sa buhay mo,” she said. 

While for some, praising Jesus Nazarene and engaging in the flock of people every year have given them miracles, for Albert Pamintuan, a 56 year-old devotee since the year 1995, his panata led him to leave all his bad habits that includes having too much alcohol intake. Jesus Nazarene also helped him recover from a stroke. 

Pamintuan joined the traslacion this year. At exactly 10 p.m. on January 8, he arrived at the Quirino Grandstand where the procession commenced. 

“Hanggang ngayon, wala pa akong tulog,” said Pamintuan. 

In his 30 years of devotion, Pamintuan already witnessed how physical and intense traslacion is. He saw how his fellow devotees got injured and hurt and how they struggle just to get close to the image they venerate. But none of these have stopped his devotion. Like what he said, he got used to it already. 

“Saka ‘yong anak ko andyan din [nakatira] sa Arlegui at pinagdadasal ko na sana, lumago ang negosyo ko,” Pamintuan explained. 

With everything that has happened and is still taking place, the phrase ipagpasa-Diyos mo na lang is often heard especially with people who see faith as the ultimate solution to life’s difficulties, like when how devotees believe that by merely touching the statue, they can receive divine intervention, when nothing else seems to work. 

But this instinct to surrender to the divine is not without its complexities. In a nation that struggles with widespread poverty, a flawed healthcare system, and deeply trenched political crisis, how much should faith play a role in resolving these issues? 

For instance, our healthcare system only caters to 34% of the population access to essential health services. The Universal Health Coverage in the Philippines highlights the challenges faced, particularly in rural areas where healthcare resources are painfully limited, leaving many families vulnerable to the impacts of illness. 

In the realm of education, the numbers speak truth, as reflected by the Philippines' performance in the 2022 Program for International Student Assessment (PISA), where Filipino students ranked 79th out of 81 countries in Reading, Mathematics, and Science.

 

Furthermore, the Philippines scored 34 out of 100 on the 2023 Corruption Perceptions Index, underscoring the need for increased transparency and accountability within governmental structures.

However, the pervasive culture of faith often stifles these calls for change, because the belief that everything can be solved through prayer may inadvertently encourage positivity, while action and critical engagement with the political system are necessary for long-term progress. 

In the 2022 elections, for example, millions of Filipinos turned out to vote, yet many still believed that the political system was beyond change. It is here that the tension between faith and action becomes clear. Faith is crucial as it offers comfort and hope to the community. 

But relying solely on faith without taking concrete steps to improve the nation may result in perpetuating the status quo rather than challenging it. 

Perhaps the answer lies in balance, because faith does not have to be the enemy of action. The devotion to Jesus Nazarene can fuel people’s perseverance and inspire them to act. It can remind them that despite their personal struggles, they have the power to change their situation. But that change cannot happen through faith alone. It requires collective action — voting for leaders who prioritize the welfare of the people, demanding better services, and challenging corruption at every level.

 

The relic of Jesus Nazarene is more than just a symbol of passive hope, it is also a reminder of the strength and resilience that Filipinos possess. It’s a reminder that while faith can provide the strength to endure, action is what will bring true change. Filipinos must not simply wait for miracles, they must also work together, advocate for reforms, and actively participate in the shaping of their country’s future.

 

In the end, the feast of Jesus Nazarene, the traslacion, and the relic itself can be both a symbol of divine intervention and a call to action.

As millions of Filipinos flood the streets of Manila every year, they are not just asking for miracles; they are also being reminded that the power to create change is in their hands, not just in the heavens above, but in the steps they take on the ground. 

Faith and action can — and should — go hand in hand.