São Miguel is experiencing Lenten pilgrimages. Those who live outside the island may not understand what these pilgrimages are and what motivates the pilgrims. What is your view as a local?

First, I can share the view of the phenomenon as a spectator. I’ve never taken part in a pilgrimage, I confess. Still, like any Micaelense with a connection to the land, I can always remember looking with fascination at those groups of men with loaded eyes traveling through the bowels of the territory towards the various churches and hermitages on the island. It’s part of our imagination to hear the echo of the pilgrims’ songs at dawn when the sky is still black. When a rancho passes, you learn to stop and watch silently as a sign of respect. You learn to make requests of greater strength to those men, which must be reciprocated as a prayer by those watching, a way of supporting the sacrifice of the pilgrimage, which is made for a collective good. The phenomenon’s strength results from the pilgrimage’s deep spirituality and the communion between the population and the pilgrims. There is also an important aspect to pilgrimages. It’s the fact that people from all walks of life, of different ages and backgrounds, take part – even though each group is linked to a parish or town. The pilgrimages are a profound spiritual experience with a very strong community force. Perhaps for this reason, outsiders may not notice these factors that make up the identity of Lenten pilgrimages.

The pilgrims travel around the island and receive popular support wherever they go. What does this support consist of and in what spirit does it occur?

The support essentially consists of giving shelter and food. It’s a very strong symbol of solidarity. People who open their doors to strangers, providing shelter, also share part of the sacrament of the pilgrimages. It’s common for people to give the best room in their house to pilgrims. Some families have received pilgrims for decades. There are people with few means who offer their best to the pilgrims. They do it with pleasure. There is a give and take, free of interests or ulterior motives. Such a gesture is extremely important in a contemporary age of individualism and inequality. In an increasingly polarized society where dialogue is not cultivated, this movement brings people from different social classes together, putting them on the same level and fostering equality.

Some understand that being a pilgrim changes you for the better. Do you feel this in your day-to-day contact with people? Or does life go on as usual after the pilgrimage?

It’s always difficult to assess the impact of this kind of religious phenomenon on people’s lives, and I even feel like quoting, if I may, that old popular proverb that says, “with fools neither to mass nor to heaven”. Irony aside, it seems undeniable to me that this is an experience that fosters empathy. I don’t know a single person who has taken part and says that it hasn’t been something remarkable in their life. I’ve done reports and news stories on Lenten pilgrimages, interviewing historians and participants, and I’ve noticed, at least according to my interpretation, an interesting fact: a component that goes beyond the Catholic faith and even the religious dimension. It is a profound spiritual experience that allows us to connect with the values of solidarity and sharing. It brings people closer together. It allows for a reorganization of priorities and an opportunity for self-knowledge and introspection. And then, of course, walking the island for seven days is also a test of strength because of its physical demands. A daily challenge that forces you to rediscover new strength.

Pilgrimages, Santo Cristo, and Espírito Santo make up a religious trilogy that takes up a good part of the year and, above all, seems to become ingrained in the people’s and community’s spirit. Does this make people darker, more fearful, and submissive to the various powers, or are we dealing with factors of freedom?

I think it depends on each person, as there is a component of individual experience in each of the different phenomena. Antero de Quental already pointed to the oppression of religion as one of the causes of the decadence of the peninsular peoples. These peoples, he said, were “naturally religious” with an “ardent, exalted and exclusive” religiosity. Antero knew what he was talking about, not least because the Catholic conflict profoundly marked his life. Still, I wouldn’t go so far as to defend a kind of Marxist view of the impact of religion on a given community, especially in the case of this religious trilogy, as he calls it.

The pilgrimages, the feasts of Senhor Santo Cristo dos Milagres, and the Festas do Divino Espírito Santo have common traits in that they are linked to the population’s fear of natural disasters. They are the supplications of a population asking for divine protection in bad weather. The connection between religion and nature is very deep in our land. These three religious festivals help form the visceral religiosity of the islands, which is very evident in São Miguel. This religiosity, I believe, may be linked to a certain conservatism, especially in more isolated communities. However, it’s important to draw attention to the fact that all three festivals come from society and are not controlled by the Catholic Church hierarchy. In the case of the Holy Spirit, it is known that it is a deeply popular manifestation, just like the pilgrims – both manifestations were banned by the Catholic Church, which never liked to see things get out of hand. Even in the feasts of the Holy Christ, where the Roman Catholic component is perhaps more evident, the procession and organization of the feasts are the responsibility of a brotherhood, not the church. They are, therefore, festivals that are born from the bottom up, with deep roots in the population, and that reflect the faith that is typical of a people – and, once again, they bring together devotees from different classes, backgrounds, and ideologies.

We see the pilgrimages from a distance, with people bent over with exhaustion, and we see the Holy Christ and the promises whose fulfillment drives people to exhaustion… Are the younger generations getting into this spirit or not?

The pilgrimages, in particular, have seen an increase in participants over the decades, demonstrating the movement’s vitality. It’s common to see children joining the ranches, which helps to show that this tradition is passed down from generation to generation. Specifically, regarding pilgrimages, some dynamics have emerged in recent decades that have helped to bring more people closer to this phenomenon. There are, for example, groups of women pilgrims (some with hundreds of people) who leave at dawn and spend a day on pilgrimage. Educational institutions also gather the youngest to organize a children’s pilgrimage, during which the children adopt the rites and clothing just like pilgrims.

Now, it is obviously foreseeable that these movements will suffer from the complex crisis affecting all the mediating powers that have dominated much of our lives, such as the church, representative democracy, or journalism. The church’s crisis obviously influences the number of believers, which could have implications for the future.

However, what makes the festivals of Santo Cristo, Lenten pilgrimages, or the Divine Holy Spirit so powerful is that they are still guaranteed to survive: they are festivals that come from the people and are deeply rooted in the island’s experience for better or for worse.

In Diário Insular-José Lourenço-director

Translated by Diniz Borges

Translated to English as a community outreach program from the Portuguese Beyond Borders Institute (PBBI) and the Modern and Classical Languages and Literatures Department (MCLL) as part of Bruma Publication at California State University, Fresno, PBBI thanks the Luso-American Education Foundation for their support.