Religious Education Update: October 22

Dia de los Muertos

Today the children will learn about Dia de lost Muertos, the Day of the Dead. The original celebration can be traced back to the Aztecs, who had a Lady of the Dead ritual dedicated to children and the dead during what is now July and August. In Mexico’s postconquest era, the holiday was moved by Spanish priests to coincide with the Christian holiday of All Hallow’s Eve.

Modern Mexican families create an altar in their homes for the holiday, and decorate it with items that they feel are beautiful and attractive to their departed ones. Such items include flowers and food, photographs of the departed or articles of clothing that their loved ones wore. This is done to entice the dead and make sure that their spirits actually return to take part in the remembrance.

Many Unitarian Universalist churches celebrate the holiday at this time. For UU’s, the observance is a time to remember and celebrate the lives of loved ones, including relatives, friends and pets.

Peter Morales of the UU Church of Davis wrote the following description of a UU service at his church:

“The rich sound of congregant Sue Saum's flute filled the sanctuary with a soft, pensive tune as members of the Unitarian Church of Davis, California, came up quietly to a simple but colorful altar, placing on it photographs and mementos of loved ones. As part of a regular Sunday service, I had delivered a homily about death and remembrance, then invited the congregation to take part in a special ritual. I began by placing on the altar a photograph of my mother, Oralia, who had died a few months before. Virtually every member of the congregation followed suit. Those without a memento brought a flower and put it on the altar. I looked out and saw that there was hardly a dry eye among the 175 worshipers. Something deep, sacred, and joyous was occurring.

I was overwhelmed by the depth of feeling I had unwittingly touched. It was only the third service I had led, and the ritual of remembrance, which I'd adapted from the Mexican Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) tradition, was something of an experiment. I was so worried it might not work at this highly intellectual congregation in a university town that I had made sure there were some shills in the pews. With a few helpers guaranteed to participate, I thought, "At least this won't turn into an utter disaster."

Part of the genius of the Día de los Muertos is the way it mixes celebration and mourning. Like a good UU memorial service, it both affirms life and gives us a chance to share our grief.

After the ritual, dozens of people came up to thank me. A retired man in his 70s stands out in my memory. He opened his wallet and showed me a slip of paper with the name of a dear friend killed in World War II. Having carried that name in wallet after wallet for more than 50 years, the man told me this was the first time he had been able to remember that friend in an open, public way in his faith community. Days after the ceremony, I received a note from a leader of the congregation thanking me for giving her permission to grieve.

We sophisticated UUs are apt to see the Día de los Muertos as primitive or quaint. Surely, few of us share the cosmology of rural Mexicans who lay out favorite foods in memory of a dead relative. If I do this with my mother's favorite foods (maybe one of my aunt Amelia's wonderful Christmas tamales or her calabacita stew), I don't believe her spirit will return and be pleased at being remembered. Nor do I believe my mother will hear her favorite old Mexican tunes if I play a recording of them.

Yet if we dismiss the Day of the Dead as pure superstition, we can easily miss the profound spiritual and psychological insight that makes this tradition powerful. A Mexican boy spending the night at his uncle's grave has a connection across time with his forebearers that our children do not. While we dwellers in a technological age are connected to the World Wide Web, cellular phones, and cable tv, have message machines, voice mail, pagers, and call waiting, we have cut ourselves off from the web of time. Traditional cultures, with their mediums and ghosts and reincarnations, have understood intuitively something we've repressed: the dead don't die; they live on.

I'm not speaking metaphysically or theologically. I'm talking about the very real stuff of memory, history, and molecular biology. Look in the mirror. The DNA of your ancestors is alive in you. Look at your children and grandchildren and see yourself and your ancestors. Think of the decisions made by your parents and grandparents. Their choices shaped your life. And the choices we make every day shape the lives of those to come. The interconnections stretch across time.

This is what the Día de los Muertos reminds us of, and this is its power. A simple ceremony of remembrance puts us in touch with our place in time and our mortality, and it reminds us that to live is to create a legacy that endures for generations.”

Next Sunday, we will have a Day of the Dead service at UUP to remember and celebrate our interconnections that stretch across time. Please bring photographs or mementos of those beings who remain precious to you, though no longer alive. These photographs could be of relatives, friends, or beloved pets. It will be a time of sharing happy and sad feelings, while honoring our place in the continuum of time.

Marlene Abel
Director of Religious Education