"Day of the Dead"

Laura Chilkott's story reminds me that in all Roman Catholic countries there is a three-day celebration at this time of the year. On October 31, evil spirits are abroad, haunting us and doing mischievous deeds. They are stirred up because they know that on November 1, the departed saints return to earth to walk abroad. Finally, on November 2, all departed souls -- saints, sinners and the undecided -- return to earth to commune briefly with the living. This tri-partite holiday has three names: All Hallows Eve, All Saints Day and All Souls Day.

When Roman Catholic priests first came to the Americas with Cortés in the early 16th century, they brought these traditions with them. As with many Catholic feast days, in Mexico the church's traditions were married to older native traditions which already existed.

Since the era of Greek mythology, when Hera and Zeus held court in Olympia; since the time of Brahma and Atman in India; and the Chou dynasty in China, Mexicans had been celebrating the Day of the Dead. Starting with the Olmecs, then the Zapotecs, and the Toltecs, and the Mayas and the Aztecs, the living and the dead were reunited once a year. After all, for the Aztecs at least, death was but a portal through which humans passed to other existences. Their celebration would be more properly translated as the Month of the Dead. Their goddess Mictecacihuatl [Mic - te - ca - ci - huatl] presided over the festivity.

Today, in Mexico, the Day of the Dead celebration is the most important holiday in the year. It is often celebrated for two nights, with November 1 being El Dio de Los Angelitos, The Day of the Little Angels and November 2 being El Dio de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead. The two together are know as Los Dios de Los Muertos, The Days of the Dead.

El Dio de Los Angelitos is the time when the souls of departed children return to earth. Cat Gonzalez, writing on the Internet tells of visiting a village called Angahuan for the festival. Here is her account:

El Dio de Los Muertos and El Dio de Los Angelitos include the same ritual objects. The most basic is the ofrenda. We have our own ofrenda, or altar here today. In Mexico the ofrenda would include many of the things we've brought, plus a few more. There would be flowers, particularly marigolds or cempazuichitl as they're called in Mexico.

Interestingly, if we lived in Arizona this weekend we'd have a chance to see a new ballet created by a team of Mexican artists under the direction of Michael Uthoff, Ballet Arizona's Artistic Director. The piece is both a ballet and an opera which brings a Day of the Dead fable to life. It centers on a little girl migrating to North America who leaves a trail of marigold petals behind her so the dead may find her in her new homeland.

As well as flowers, there would be gifts, particularly for the children on El Dio de Los Angelitos. Special food would include candy, breads or buns, tamales, tortilla, and mole. The featured candy would be calaveras, or sugar skulls with colorful decorations. Eating a Los Dios de Los Muertos skull is like eating a marshmallow Easter bunny or a chocolate Santa. Although a skull can be a terrifying object for us, the word calaverada, from the word calavera, or skull, means tomfoolery. Skulls are symbols of playfulness when the dead mimic the living.

Perhaps no one has done more to bring fanciful skeletons to life than the artist Jose Guadalupe Posada, who lived in the latter half of the 19th century and the first half of this one. He was a serious artist who inspired Diego Rivera, of whom many of you have probably heard. He was also a folk illustrator and a political cartoonist. He created a skeletal figure called Katarina. She wears a plumed hat and dress, and she has replaced Mictecacihuatl as queen of Los Dios de Los Muertos.

The bread put on the altar would have a significant shape. Sometimes it would be shaped into ovals, to match the oval shaped souls which would be returning to earth. There would be no mole on the altar during El Dio de Los Angelitos because it is too spicy for little children.

Decorations might include puppets and masks in the shape of skeletons. Our children made some wonderful examples for us to enjoy. I hope you will take a look at these before you leave today.

Special incense made from copal might burn on the ofrenda. On El Dio de Los Muertos, when adult souls are being welcomed back there could well be native beverages on the altar including alcoholic drinks like pulque and atole and on El Dio de Los Angelitos, hot chocolate.

The ofrenda might be set up in a home, but more likely it would be in the camposanto, the graveyard or on the road to the camposanto or panteón.

Dale Hoyt Palfrey a writer living in Ajijic, Jalisco, Mexico tells us about a Mexican camposanto in her village:

I contrast Palfrey's description of her village's graveyard with a cemetery I recently visited near here. I think you understand that in Ajijic there are no rules governing the placement of grave markers. I contrast that with the sight of uniform markers set into the ground, so that power mowers can cut the grass without risking harm to the blades of the machines; plastic flowers fading in the sunlight bunched bravely in permanent vases; weeds with stickers crawling between the markers, making one's walk through the cemetery in sandals uncomfortable.

In our attempt to keep death at least at arm's length, our cemeteries have become visual symbols of the death industry rather than visual symbols of caring rituals by the living in remembrance of the dead.

This weekend we and our children commemorate Los Dios de Los Muertos. Not because we pretend to be Mexican but because we know as Unitarian Universalists that we do not have all the answers. By studying others' customs and beliefs we leave ourselves open to new possibilities. Surely something heals within us when we take time to look through boxes or drawers to find a photo of a loved one. Surely something heals within us when we bring that photo here and place it on our ofrenda. Surely something heals within us when we take time to speak of a loved one departed. Surely we need rituals to help us confront what the Rev. Forest Church calls the dual reality of being human and mortal.

Let us sing together Hymn 336 "All My Memories of Love".