Source: Kummisjoni Gimgha Kbira / Arkivju Lorenzo Zahra

In the old city of Birgu, also known as Vittoriosa, Easter was never an ordinary celebration. It was filled with excitement, tradition, and a story that older residents still remember with a smile.

Until the year 1936, the people of Birgu celebrated the Risen Christ not once, but twice every Easter. The statue would come out in procession on Holy Saturday and again on Easter Sunday.

Source: Kummisjoni Gimgha Kbira / Arkivju Lorenzo Zahra

The statue itself had already been part of Birgu’s story for many years. It was carved from wood in 1833 by the sculptor Salv Psaila from Cospicua, replacing an earlier statue. Psaila had learned his craft from another respected artist, Mariano Gerada. The statue showed Christ risen in victory, and for the people of Birgu it was much more than a sculpture – it was a symbol of hope and joy. The procession on Holy Saturday was the liveliest of the two. It was almost like a festival.

All along the streets, people waited eagerly for a very special moment. At certain points the men carrying the statue would suddenly start running with it. The run represented the great joy of the Resurrection, the moment when Christ rose from the dead.

Source: Salvatore Muscat

Children waited excitedly for another reason. They held tightly to their figolla, the sweet almond Easter cake shaped like animals or hearts. According to tradition, they had to wait for the statue of the Risen Christ to pass by and bless their figolla before they were allowed to eat it.

The celebration usually began at about 10:30 in the morning when the bells of St Lawrence Church rang out the joyful Gloria.

The statue was brought out from the nearby Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, where it was kept during the year, and carried close to St Lawrence Church. Waiting there for it was the band of the Duke of Edinburgh Band.

From there the procession continued through the streets of Birgu along what locals proudly called the “great circuit.”

Sometimes the bearers walked slowly.
Sometimes they ran, lifting the statue high as they rushed through the streets.

During the route there were special moments of respect.

When the procession reached the Church of the Annunciation and the Church of St Scholastica, the statue was lifted high and turned toward the church as a sign of honour.

But perhaps the most moving moment came when the procession arrived at the bastion wall known as the Miratur, popularly called it-Toqba.

There the statue was turned toward the harbour.

This simple gesture carried a powerful meaning: it was a blessing over the sea, which was the livelihood of many families in Birgu.

For many years this joyful tradition continued.

But everything changed in 1936.

On 19 April 1936, new rules from the Maltese Church authorities were officially announced. These decisions had been made the year before during a council in 1935 led by Cardinal Alexis Lépicier.

The decree was signed by Mauro Caruana, Archbishop of Malta, and Mikiel Gonzi, Bishop of Gozo.

Three months later, on 16 July 1936, the rules came into force.

Among the new regulations were restrictions on processions. One result was that the Holy Saturday procession of the Risen Christ was no longer allowed. Another rule said that during the Easter Sunday procession people were not allowed to run with the statue.

For the people of the Cottonera towns, Birgu and Cospicua, this decision felt very painful. They felt that some of their beloved traditions had been taken away.

But the rules had to be obeyed.

From 1937 onwards, only the Easter Sunday procession remained. It took place after the sung Mass, and the statue was carried calmly through the streets.

Then came the war years, when processions stopped altogether.

As the war slowly moved farther away from Malta, life began to return to normal.

With Easter approaching, people began wondering if the old customs might somehow return.

One Easter morning, in 1945, during the eight o’clock Mass at St Lawrence Church, the Archpriest Pawlu Galea was collecting the offerings.

Near the baptismal font, three men stopped him.

They were Wenzu Gatt, the gilder; Salvu Gonzi, the Archbishop’s brother; and Mikiel Licari from Cospicua.

They told him something surprising.

In Cospicua, they said, the people had run with the statue of the Risen Christ again during their procession.

In Cospicua the procession left at six in the morning and returned by nine, just before the sung Mass.

Now the people of Birgu wanted to do the same.

The Archpriest realised that trouble might come if things were not handled carefully.

He went to the police station and telephoned the Archbishop. But the Archbishop could not speak to him at that moment.

So, the Archpriest returned to the church, thinking hard about how to avoid conflict.

He spoke with the police inspector, Salvu Calleja, and explained everything that had happened in Cospicua. He asked the inspector not to involve the police if the same thing happened in Birgu.

They also spoke with Wenzu Busuttil, the Chief Pilot, who understood church matters well. It seemed that everyone quietly agreed.

When the sung Mass finished, Canon Dun Lawrenz Zammit, the youngest of the canons, approached the Archpriest.

He had never before taken part in the procession as a priest.

“Who will lead the procession?” he asked.

The Archpriest told him to lead it, and gently reminded him not to involve the police if the people started running.

The procession began.

The standard was carried by Lorenzo Dalmas, and the band played.

Meanwhile, the Archpriest himself went to the square to watch what would happen.

Soon he was noticed.

A man named Vella, known as “Iz-Zanz,” who had a slight limp and was helping organize the bearers together with the famous footballer Salvu Brincat “Ic-Cappaturi,” came toward him.

Vella leaned closer and said quietly:

“Dun Pawl… you should step aside. We are about to start the run toward the Annunciation Church.”

The Archpriest could not help smiling.

He stepped aside.

Source: Kummisjoni Gimgha Kbira / Arkivju Lorenzo Zahra

And at that very moment the run began.

The statue of the Risen Christ surged forward, carried quickly through the streets, just as it had been years before.

Of course, news eventually reached the Archbishop.

But he said nothing.

Some believed that he allowed such things quietly, knowing that these traditions helped bring people closer to the Church.

And so the tradition returned.

Source: Kummisjoni Gimgha Kbira / Arkivju Lorenzo Zahra

To this very day in Birgu, the statue of the Risen Christ still runs through the streets on Easter morning. But the people always remember one important thing: In every tradition, celebration, and run through the streets, the most important meaning is the Resurrection itself.

Written with reference to:

• ‘Id-Drawwa li Jiġru bl-Irxoxt fil–Birgu’ by J. F. Porsella Flores. L-Imnara : volume 5 : issue 2 : 1995, Ghaqda Maltija tal-Folklor.