El Dia de los Muertos

Rev. Peter A. Friedrichs

October 29, 2006

"Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?" These are big questions to be asking in such a little hymn, aren't they? And the answer to these big questions? "Mystery, mystery. Life is a riddle and a mystery." In my experience, we Unitarian Universalists don't do well with mysteries, at least mysteries of the unsolvable kind. While we pride ourselves on our willingness to search -- for truth and meaning, for a spiritual path that resonates with our experience of the world, for satisfaction to our deepest yearnings -- we generally like to be offered an assortment of possible answers to our questions. Some people accuse Unitarian Universalism of being the ultimate buffet, where we can choose a little bit of this, perhaps a generous helping of that, all while we strive to maintain a little bit of room on our plate for that one thing that will truly satisfy our spiritual hunger. It's not a wholly inaccurate metaphor for what you find at our churches and, I, for one, take it as a complement. Here at UUCDC, as in other Unitarian Universalist congregations, you can mix a little Buddhism with your humanism. You can enjoy a heaping portion of agnosticism with a hint of deism. You can tease your palate with paganism and cleanse it with Christianity. Yum!

But what do we do when we get to the end of the proverbial buffet line, when we're looking for the dessert (or perhaps the toppings for our sundae)? For many of us here, it seems like there's an empty pan and nothing to choose from. The question "What happens to us when we die?" is the ultimate unanswerable inquiry. Christianity offers eternal life to those who believe that Jesus died and was resurrected to wash away their sins. Hinduism offers a destiny of reincarnation, the repeated return of the soul to new bodies until it ultimately reunites with its Source. Judaism and Islam both offer a belief in the afterlife, in a type of heaven and hell, but it is not central to those faiths. For those with a more scientific bent, with the development of modern emergency medical technology we now have anecdotal evidence from those who have suffered near-death experiences, people who claim remarkably similar experiences during the time between when they have "died" and are resuscitated.

Historically, one of the primary pillars of our faith, the foundational belief on which Universalism hinged, was an understanding that all souls would one day be rejoined with their maker in heaven. The term "Universalism" refers to this faith in the universal salvation of all humanity. In this post-modern age, many contemporary Unitarian Universalists wrestle with the meaning of the term "salvation," and some have rejected it altogether. Like many other questions of faith, we are often more capable of articulating what we don't believe about death and beyond than we are of stating what it is we do believe. "Mystery, mystery. Life is a riddle and a mystery." I hope it's not going to disappoint too many of you when I tell you that I won't be solving that riddle here today.

Regardless of your beliefs or non-beliefs about life after death, about the existence of a spirit world, or heaven or hell, we find ourselves now in that time of year when cultures around the world celebrate and honor those who have gone before. For pagans and the ancient Celts, this is the time of Samhain ("saw-en"). Samhain marks the transition from the summer, or the light half of the year, to the winter, or the dark half of the year, and for some the change from the old year to the new. Being between seasons and between years, this is said to be a magical time, when the dead walk among the living and the veils between past, present and future may be lifted through practices of divination and prophecy. During this time, the ancient Celts and their pagan brothers and sisters believe that they can pass without harm freely between this world and the spirit world, and they attempt to make contact with their ancestors, seeking guidance and inspiration. Samhain is a time of great feasting, and the dead are honored not as long-departed ancestors, but as living spirits who possess the root-wisdom of the tribe. Pagans believe that the ancestral spirits should be welcomed with food and gifts in order to placate them.

Pagans are quick to point out that the Christian holidays known as "All Saints Day" and "All Souls Day" were co-opted from their ancient practices, and while there certainly is evidence to that effect it is disputed by the Catholic church. In any event, All Saints and All Souls have been celebrated by the Christian church on November 1 and 2 since the early Middle Ages. During the 8th Century Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as the anniversary of the consecration of a chapel in St. Peter's for the relics of the holy apostles and of all saints, martyrs and confessors. Thus, November 1 is celebrated as All Saints Day. It is followed on November 2 by All Souls Day, a day of prayer and commemoration for all those who have died but have not yet reached heaven. It's kind of a holiday for the rest of us. On All Souls Day, the faithful both seek contact with the spirits in purgatory and pray for the saints to intercede on their behalf.

The celebration of the Day of the Dead, or El Dia de los Muertos, dates back to pre-Colombian times, more than 3,000 years ago in what is now Mexico and other meso-American societies. Originally observed during the ninth month of the Aztec Solar Calendar, these celebrations were moved by the Spanish Conquistadors to coincide with the observance of All Saints and All Souls days. But they are far from the somber, prayerful rites of medieval Europe. El Dia de los Muertos is a time of celebration, when the spirits of dead ancestors are welcomed back into the home of their loved ones with great anticipation and joy. While this holiday is celebrated differently in different parts of Mexico and other Latin cultures, some common practices exist. The living will spend the days of the dead tending to and cleaning the grave sites of their ancestors, decorating them with colorful flowers and sometimes even paints. Relatives enjoy picnics in the cemetery, sharing favorite foods of the deceased. They bring toys for los Angelitos, the little angels, children who have died, and tequila for departed adults. In the United States and in Mexico's larger cities, families build altars in their homes, called ofrendas, dedicating them to the dearly departed. They surround these altars with flowers, food, and pictures of the deceased. Prayer candles, in purple for pain, white for hope and pink for celebration, are lit on the altars. It is traditional to decorate the ofrenda with paper skeletons, pan de muertos, loaves of sweet bread, and sugar candy skulls decorated in bright colors bearing the names of dead relatives on their foreheads. Families will often create a path of marigold petals leading from outside their homes to the ofrenda, to welcome and lead the spirits back home. Symbols of death, including skeletons, skulls and coffins, are playfully rendered, and they don't possess the sinister overtones they have in our culture. Unlike Halloween, where the object is to make spirits as scary as possible, those who celebrate El Dia de los Muertos welcome spirits home with open arms and great celebration.

One of the wonderful aspects of Unitarian Universalism is our ability to learn about the traditions of other cultures and other faiths, and in so doing to expand our own sense of ourselves. Our Principles and Purposes state that "the living tradition we share draws from many sources," including "wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life." Today we have created our own ofrenda, of sorts, populated by the pictures and mementos of relatives and friends who have lived out their lives here on earth. You'll note, however, that we have no paper skeletons, no pan de muertos, no sugar candy skulls on our altar. Although Unitarian Universalism permits and even encourages us to explore traditions such as El Dia de los Muertos, we must be careful when we engage in rituals that approximate or reflect the practices of another group, particularly when we as a community are composed primarily of members of the dominant cultural group. While we are encouraged to seek and gain inspiration from the customs, practices, and beliefs of other cultures, we must not engage in rituals or practices, nor should we display symbols, that belong solely to those cultures. The technical term for this is "cultural misappropriation."

As my colleague Judy Quarles, from the Unitarian Universalist Society of Oneonta, writes, "Sometimes we, as individuals and even as a congregation, in searching for religious meaning, use religious traditions and customs without much real knowledge or concern about their original context. Or sometimes we take a tradition from another religion and give it our own meaning. In doing so we are in grave danger of trivializing or misunderstanding the original meaning."

There is no bright line that differentiates a permitted practice from cultural misappropriation, so we must maintain a keen awareness at times like these. There are perhaps some among us who are of Mexican or meso-American descent, who can celebrate El Dia de los Muertos with integrity. I certainly am not one of them, as you can tell simply by my pronunciation, or shall I say, mispronunciation, of the name of the holiday. By providing a table, decorated with colorful cloths, candles and leaves, upon which we have placed our pictures and items of long-dead or recently lost relatives, we do not seek to mimic or to appropriate this tradition. Our ritual this morning has been inspired by the Mexican way of celebrating the Day of the Dead. I find this culture's approach to inviting the presence of their ancestors, to welcoming them home, if you will, to be a source of inspiration to me. As faithful Unitarian Universalists we are compelled to seek inspiration from the full width and breadth of human religious traditions and to be transformed by what we learn. We must, however, engage in honest inquiry that inspires, but does not co-opt, where we may find meaning without misappropriation.

As I said, the Mexican celebration of El Dia de los Muertos is a source of inspiration to me. While those who celebrate this holiday fear death and grieve the loss of a loved one every bit as much or as little as do any faithful people, I am inspired by their relationship to death and their willingness to embrace death as a natural part of life's process. Likewise, I am inspired by this culture's commitment to remembering its dead, celebrating its dead, honoring its dead. This tradition is deeply ingrained in their national psyche. El Dia de los Muertos is not just a Hallmark greeting card holiday or just another excuse to take a day off from work or from school. It is a time of linking the past with the present, of recalling one's roots, and of calling to mind one's own mortality.

As we placed our pictures or our artifacts on our altar today, we called into consciousness our connection with those who have come before. Pierre Auguste Friedrichs was my father's father, a man I never knew. He died long before I was born. Yet he is a part of me. We know from the science of genetics that this is literally true, that I am made up, in part, of his same DNA. He is also part of me because I have grown up in the presence of the stories of his life, and those stories, too, are a part of who I am. Those stories are early chapters of my own story, or perhaps a prequel to it, just as mine will be those of my grandchildren. I do not believe that my grandfather's spirit lurks behind a veil that draws thin at this time of year, or that, by placing his picture here, I am inviting his spirit to enter this holy place and to dwell among us for a time. But his presence here, in me, is very real, and this ritual helps remind me of that fact. It is right to create a space and a time to remember our ancestors, for they are the soil from which we all grow. And that is their immortality.

Bringing forth pictures of our ancestors serves another purpose as well. This ritual reminds us of a simple fact, one we are often loathe to admit. Someday we, too will be but a memory or a trace of genetic material. Like it or not, we, too, are mortal. Someday, hopefully later and not sooner, our photographs will be placed on a table, or a mantelpiece, or perhaps an ofrenda. This is not a morbid thought, but rather a reminder that our time here is limited and that we must spend it wisely. As Robert Weston said in our reading today, "so may we know, accept, embrace, the mystery of life we hold a while, nor mourn that it outgrows each separate self, but still rejoice that we may have our day. Lift high our colors to the sky! and give, each in his time, fresh glory to the earth." In the end, then, the Day of the Dead, El Dia de los Muertos, is a celebration of life.

"Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?" Look in front of you. This is where we come from. This is who and what we are. And this is where we are going. Life is a riddle and a mystery.

Blessed Be and Amen.

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