| << Front page | Arts | November 9, 2007 |
Students and Campus Minister Celebrate Day of the Dead in Wilder
In Catholicism, November is the month to celebrate life in the next world. In many Latin American cultures, celebrating the continuity of the human spirit beyond earthly life on El Día de los Muertos comes in the form of mariachi marches, sentimental meals, an imaginative paper and sugar creations. On November 1 and 2, the living come together to hold joyful gatherings in cemeteries, inviting death to lighten up. Last Friday, Nov. 2, a small group of students learned about this tradition and honored loved ones who have passed.
We sat in a small office in Wilder, bathed in fluorescent light. Tabletops were cluttered with cookies, tortilla chips and Halloween candy. Quietly, we took turns leading and answering according to the call and response form of Catholic Liturgy. In a static unison, our words asked God, or whatever entity we hoped would listen, to “hear our prayer.”
Most of the prayer revolved around the reading of names of many individuals we never knew, but whose lives were deemed saintly by the Catholic Church. Then Debbie Dacone, the Newman Catholic Campus Minister, turned her face to us and warmly asked us to add to the prayer.
“All Saints’ Day is meant to celebrate those who lead especially holy lives. All Souls’ Day is for the rest of us,” said Dacone. In the place of saints we can only read about, we were invited to speak the more loaded name of someone gone from us.
The change in the tone of the ceremony reflected the transition from more standardized ceremonies to El Día de los Muertos celebrations. El Día de los Muertos allows people to cope with death and life individually and in close-knit groups by reveling in the activities, food and objects of one who has passed. The design of the celebration of a person is intended to mirror the detail and journey of that life, a life that, according to Catholicism, proceeds in a new form.
According to Dacone, “Death is part of life. Part of living is letting go of loved ones – dying yourself. In Catholicism, we believe that life continues in a different way.”
The holiday happens mostly in Catholic cultures and operates around the framework of the religion, falling the day after All Saints Day, but it appears in that framework as a secular tradition. But its non-Catholic religious roots are buried in ancient Latin American indigenous traditions.
Within Aztec culture, evidence of parties for the dead dates back almost 3,000 years. Back then, the festivities were dedicated to the goddess Mictecacihuatl, known as “the lady of the dead.” This lady still commands the day and is said to poke fun at death and materialism. The goddess is invoked with frequency for religious holidays. In this way, the Day of the Dead is a hybrid celebration, merging the notion of heaven with abundant earth-bound spirit.
In certain parts of the world, November 2 is a day for exciting parades, cake and dancing skeletons. For El Día de los Muertos, many people also build intimate altars with offerings commemorating the lives of those gone.
The altar in Dacone’s office is very small. At a glance, it might not even seem like an altar. One of the tables in the corner of the room is small and colorful, with splashes of sweets. Unpretentiously placed on that table is the extent of the commemorating offering: a single fuzzy photograph and a cigarette butt.
Whatever objects we associate with the memory of a person, they are only a demarcation of the subtle and sprawling impact we have on one another. The extent of the altar is not the point. That night’s activities, like the day itself, are not about death or things as ends in themselves. It is about the continuity inherent in the exercise of living and honoring how loved ones inhabit their forms – whether they are conventionally saintly or not.
We sat in a small office in Wilder, bathed in fluorescent light. Tabletops were cluttered with cookies, tortilla chips and Halloween candy. Quietly, we took turns leading and answering according to the call and response form of Catholic Liturgy. In a static unison, our words asked God, or whatever entity we hoped would listen, to “hear our prayer.”
Most of the prayer revolved around the reading of names of many individuals we never knew, but whose lives were deemed saintly by the Catholic Church. Then Debbie Dacone, the Newman Catholic Campus Minister, turned her face to us and warmly asked us to add to the prayer.
“All Saints’ Day is meant to celebrate those who lead especially holy lives. All Souls’ Day is for the rest of us,” said Dacone. In the place of saints we can only read about, we were invited to speak the more loaded name of someone gone from us.
The change in the tone of the ceremony reflected the transition from more standardized ceremonies to El Día de los Muertos celebrations. El Día de los Muertos allows people to cope with death and life individually and in close-knit groups by reveling in the activities, food and objects of one who has passed. The design of the celebration of a person is intended to mirror the detail and journey of that life, a life that, according to Catholicism, proceeds in a new form.
According to Dacone, “Death is part of life. Part of living is letting go of loved ones – dying yourself. In Catholicism, we believe that life continues in a different way.”
The holiday happens mostly in Catholic cultures and operates around the framework of the religion, falling the day after All Saints Day, but it appears in that framework as a secular tradition. But its non-Catholic religious roots are buried in ancient Latin American indigenous traditions.
Within Aztec culture, evidence of parties for the dead dates back almost 3,000 years. Back then, the festivities were dedicated to the goddess Mictecacihuatl, known as “the lady of the dead.” This lady still commands the day and is said to poke fun at death and materialism. The goddess is invoked with frequency for religious holidays. In this way, the Day of the Dead is a hybrid celebration, merging the notion of heaven with abundant earth-bound spirit.
In certain parts of the world, November 2 is a day for exciting parades, cake and dancing skeletons. For El Día de los Muertos, many people also build intimate altars with offerings commemorating the lives of those gone.
The altar in Dacone’s office is very small. At a glance, it might not even seem like an altar. One of the tables in the corner of the room is small and colorful, with splashes of sweets. Unpretentiously placed on that table is the extent of the commemorating offering: a single fuzzy photograph and a cigarette butt.
Whatever objects we associate with the memory of a person, they are only a demarcation of the subtle and sprawling impact we have on one another. The extent of the altar is not the point. That night’s activities, like the day itself, are not about death or things as ends in themselves. It is about the continuity inherent in the exercise of living and honoring how loved ones inhabit their forms – whether they are conventionally saintly or not.
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