A devout Catholic has nailed himself to a cross on Good Friday – for the 36th time in a vow to God after surviving a “miracle” fall.

Ruben Enaje, 64, is pictured alongside two other devotees pinned to wooden crosses in front of large crowds in the village of San Pedro Cutud in the Philippines.

Actors dressed as Roman soldiers hammered nails into the carpenter’s palms, with ropes and fabric supporting their bodies as they were hoisted onto the crosses. Enaje can be seen in vivid, gruesome images wearing a crown of thorny twigs and a white sheet around his waist as he gazes out at the assembled crowds.

Despite previously stating that he was getting too old, Enaje has participated in the crucifixion re-enactment for over three decades and continued this year. However, he finds it hard to refuse requests from villagers whose family members are suffering from ill health.

Photographs from the grisly celebrations also depict people soaked in blood with slashes in their skin after rhythmically whipping their backs with strips of bamboo tied to ropes. Dozens of bare-chested pilgrims clad in black shrouds and crowns made of vines walked barefoot through dusty, narrow streets.

They were seen flagellating themselves until they were covered in wounds, their blood soaking the top of their trousers and splattering on bystanders.

In Mexico and San Fernando, the tradition of physical penance began around six decades ago as a religious commitment by the impoverished pleading for divine intervention – be it seeking forgiveness, healing from ailments or hoping for other miracles to come into their lives.

Participants demonstrate their piety by lying prostrate to receive whippings and beatings, with some fervent believers even utilizing razor blades to draw blood, marking the beginning of sacred street performances enacted by the devout local populace.

Remarkably, in the 1980s, Ruben Enaje survived a “miracle” fall from a three-story building almost unharmed. This life-saving incident spurred him to partake in these ritualistic crucifixions annually out of gratitude for what he regards as a miraculous event.

He continued this extraordinary act of faith as he attributed his family members’ recoveries from severe sicknesses and his own professional success in carpentry and sign painting to divine grace.

Every year, on a dusty hillside, Enaje and fellow worshippers, adorned in woven crowns of thorns, endure the arduous trek bearing large wooden crosses for over half a mile, often amidst the blistering summer heat.

Dramas of devotion reach their climax when villagers, adorned as Roman centurions, drive 4-inch (10-centimetre) stainless steel nails through the devotees’ hands and feet before hoisting them onto wooden crosses. Aloft for roughly ten minutes, they remain under the scorching sun while onlookers pray and capture the scene.

Speaking to Review of Religions, he said: “It all started in 1985, when I fell from the third floor of a building and miraculously escaped death.

“At that moment, I made a vow to God that I will make a sacrifice to pay for my second life; I wanted to do that by re-enacting the act of the crucifixion as thanksgiving. One year after my accident, I joined the Senakulo (re-enactment of crucifixion), where I carried the cross to the Burol (Hill of Crucifixion).

“From what I have heard from my grandfather, the re-enactment rituals have been carried out in the Philippines since 1945 or the 1950s (basically after the Japanese left after WWII).”