The mass of St. Sylvestre

We have remarked in the past about the lack of a truly classic Philippine Christmas story; for a country that embraces Christmas as much as we do, this is surprising. But, we do not lack when it comes to a classic New Year’s short story; this is provided courtesy of Nick Joaquin and The Mass of St. Sylvestre. It is one story that we wish to see adapted in film.

The story goes that in the 18th century in Manila lived a wizened, immortality-obsessed man by the name of Mateo el Maestro. “Like all magians, he was obsessed by a fear of death and the idea of immortality; but all the lore he had accumulated he found powerless to wrest the secret from life, though he had labored over countless experiments…” At that time in Manila, there was the legend of the Mass of St. Sylvestre on New Year’s Eve, for which “…had he but the power to behold it - could increase his life by a thousand years.”

The Mass started there “At the Puerta Postigo the heavenly multitude kneels down as St. Sylvestre advances with the Keys to open the noble and ever loyal city of Manila to the New Year. The city’s bells ring out as the gate opens and St. Andrew and his companions come forth to greet the heavenly embassy …The bells continue pealing throughout the enchanted hour and break into a really glorious uproar as St. Sylvestre rises to bestow the final benediction. But when the clocks strike one o’clock, the bells instantly fall mute, the thundering music breaks off, the heavenly companies, vanish - and in the cathedral, so lately glorious with lights and banners and solemn ceremonies, there is suddenly only the silence, only the chilly darkness of the empty naves; and at the altar, the single light burning before the body of God.”

Through consultations with dark and fell spirits, he was informed that “that the holy mysteries (except by divine dispensation) could be observed only by the eyes of the dead. Whereupon a monstrous idea had grown; the grave of a holy man was profaned; the dead eyes plucked out - and on New Year’s Eve Mateo the Maestro hid himself in the cathedral, having grafted into his eye-sockets a pair of eyeballs ravished from the dead.”

From his perch on high, he saw “…the dark naves suddenly light up and a procession forming at the high altar…a glittering angel lifted the great Flag of the City, its Lions and Castles embroidered in jewels. Behind a company of heralds appeared the mighty St. Andrew…Beside him walked the virgin St. Potenciana, robed in bridal white and crowned with roses. Behind them came St. Francis and St. Dominic and a great crowd of Holy Souls who had been, in life, illustrious citizens and faithful lovers of Manila…There the crowd paused in its chanting and, in a moment of silence so infinite you could hear the clocks all over the world intoning twelve, a key clicked…the gates opened and St. Sylvestre entered the city as the wild bells greeted the New Year!”

From his hidden seat, Mateo the Maestro watched, sweating and straining from the agony of his purloined eyes and the heavenly grandeur of a Mass no mortal can withstand. “But at last the Mass drew to a close…St. Sylvestre was standing with his back to the altar - but had he turned his face around or was that a second face that stared back at Mateo?...He dropped down slowly, irresistibly, to his knees - still staring, still fascinated, his mouth agape. Then he ceased to move…

Mateo the Maestro had turned to stone.”

And thus, Mateo was granted the immortality he so long sought. The great stories always have a lesson to be learned. And, of course, typical of Joaquin’s stories, there is more to the ending; to find out though, read the whole story. Happy New Year!