SA D D LEBAG f e at u r e
LOS HERMANOS Y LA ÚLTIMA VERÓNICA A locked, wooden box enticed a young woman’s interest all her life. The day the box revealed its secrets, her heartfelt fears warred with her desire to know the truth. What she learned confirmed her suspicions and opened a bittersweet understanding of the religious brotherhood of Hermanos Penitentes. Carmen Baca
I
HEARD THE FIRST mournful rise of my fatherʼs voice echo down the valley. It was joined by the others almost immediately after, the blending of twelve menʼs baritone, bass, and tenors sounding almost discordant yet harmonic, a distinct trait that made their singing dismal, doleful, even funereal. I’ve heard some compare los Hermanosʼ alabados to Gregorian chants, but I have to say the only characteristic they share is the somberness. The combined voices of los Hermanos in the blackness of the still nights in our little canyon made the hairs on one’s head stand on end—that is how mournful the timbre of their singing struck us listeners. It didnʼt matter that this occasion of their singing occurred at four o’clock in the afternoon. The time made it less frightening though the mystery of their brotherhood still caused an emotional response in me. The tenor matched the words of their alabados, the hymns passed down from generations. Every song reminded us of Christ’s plight on earth at the hands of mankind, and as Lent was a season for reflection on His life,
the words contributed to the overall solemnity and sadness of the forty days before Easter. Listening to the men as they walked in solemn procession from the morada to the capilla on those Lenten Friday afternoons is one of my most precious memories of the brotherhood. Known as los Hermanos Penitentes de la Fraternidad Piadosa de Nuestro Padre Jesús Nazareno (The Penitent Brothers of the Pious Fraternity of Our Father Jesus of Nazareth), los Hermanos had been a part of my life since before my earliest memories of them. I didn’t realize until later that they were our leaders, the descendants of the all-male religious brotherhood who left Spain due to religious persecution. Their cofradía—confraternity—began when their forefathers settled in northern New Mexico in the 1500s. My fatherʼs membership began in the mid-1920s and lasted until the mid ’80s when they disbanded. They were the caretakers of our community, offering spiritual guidance to the inhabitants of the Cañoncito Valley since they lived far from towns and churches.
