Hey, Jude…

To great ballyhoo (pushed by, and paid for by Dr. Simi — that is Victor González Herrera of the Dr. Simi pharmaceutical chain), a relic — said to be the arm bone of Jesus’ replacement apostle, Judas Tadeus (called “Jude” in the English language bibles to distinguish him from the bad Judas) — made an appearance his week at the Metropolitan Cathedral.

One can be rather cynical and quite skeptical of the claim that the bone belonged to a person said to have been beheaded in Beirut in 65 AD, or that it in itself possesses any particular power or mystical value… but then again, whoever Jude was (the Acts of the Apostles suggest he was either Jesus’ cousin or little brother, and may have been the groom at the wedding where Jesus brought the booze… Judas — this one — being mentioned as married, and assisted by his wife in his work as one of Jesus’ first 12 followers (proving incidentally, you don’t need a lot of followers to be an influencer) is a major influencer in Mexico, especially in Mexico City.

For whatever reason (as the Wikipedia puts it); “According to tradition, after his martyrdom, pilgrims came to his grave to pray and many of them experienced the powerful intercessions of St. Jude. Thus the title, ‘The Saint for the Hopeless and the Despaired’.”

Hopelessness and despair can be the default when you are poor, especially in the bewildering and a denizen of (to use a cliché once standard with the Associated Press) the “teeming slums” of Mexico City… “el monstro”.

To get by, you need a friend, a patrón at your side. And Jude fits the bill. Whether or not the friend is imaginary is irrelevant. As a patrón, there is some expectation of a transaction for favors given, and his terms are easy… faith, and perhaps a visit. His regular hangout is the Church of San Hipolito, dating back to the 16th century, but since the 1920s, staffed by Claritian priests, an order particularly associated with Saint Jude.

The Claritians, the “Congregation of Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary” were founded specifically to serve the underserved and forgotten. Their “mission statement” specifies

We are sent to evangelize by listening to the poor. One cannot be a Claretian if one acts as if the poor did not exist. Nor can one be a Claretian if one does not denounce unjust structures, fight against the system that subjugates the poor, and propose alternatives.”

They have worked in Mexico since the 1920s when, in the post-Revolutionary anti-clerical era they worked mostly underground… perhaps fitting them even better for serving and underserved community. As an order, one thing they’ve been noted for is their linguistic training… often serving in minority language communities. San Hipolito had, and may still have, an Anglo priest (whose name I forget) who preached in Caló … the “underworld” slang of Mexico City (comparable to cockney in London) and uses words that in that in “proper” Spanish would give a heart attack to a nun.

And, so… when asking for favors, and although the “official” feast of St. Jude is 28 October… the 28th of every month is one of the better days to call on Jude for help. Not that officials — ecclesiastic or otherwise — have a say in the matter. As the scholar of religion Bernado Barranca V. writes:

Saint Jude Thaddeus is one of the most venerated saints in Mexico, known for his closeness to the faithful. He is a giving saint, effective in the so-called exchange of spiritual goods. Many temples are consecrated in his honor. Many refer to him affectionately as “Saint Jude,” highlighting his popularity among young people only surpassed by the devotion to the Virgin of Guadalupe.

The adhesions to Jude Thaddeus are explained in the field of popular religiosity that so bothers the exquisite Mexican Catholic hierarchy. It is the faith of the poor and the simple. It is the religious expression of those believers who do not have access to medical insurance, do not have access to credit, do not have Internet and barely survive. This religiosity is lived, not thought, suffered and enjoyed. Fortunately, it is not at the mercy of dense ecclesiastical doctrines.

Popular religiosity is as dramatic as it is supportive. It is the faith of poor people who do not have access to vaccines or treatments, they do not have IMSS. They are the abandoned by the system, who clung to the protective mantle of the dark Virgin and to the detentes, shamanism and everything that symbolically protects them. Because they have no alternative! The devotion to Judas Thaddeus is the religiosity that can be subversive because it is beyond ecclesiastical canons and holds resentment against power for being abandoned. It is a thermometer of the life and moment of a people. The devotion to Guadalupe increases in times of crisis as occurred during 2015 and more recently in the pandemic. Thus, Saint Jude appears and reappears when conditions become more pressing.

That those with no alternative sometimes work outside the strictures of bourgeois convention, or… well… the strictly legal (or, definitely not legal), devotion to St. Jude is more “reputable” or acceptable to “dense ecclesiastical doctrines” than, say, Santa Muerte, or Jesús Malverde. As Barranco adds:

The majority of devotees of Jude Thaddeus, as it was said, are young people. The universe of crime, drugs and unemployment are united. The young, in “Juditas,” ask for opportunities and supports to achieve a better life. Saint Jude Thaddeus often walks, like Saint Death, between the line between what is forbidden and what is attainable. Many of his rituals are clandestine, and not all of the practices he performs are permitted by the Holy See.

Although, one wonders if Dr. Simi — whose fortune rests on selling cheap generics and cut rate medical services outside the system hasn’t glommed on to the saint of the poor and dispossessed more as a marketing ploy than out of any sense of piety. But then again, as a well-known Latin American cleric was heard to say about other “not quite ecclesiastically approved activities, “Who am I to judge'”.