Yesterday, as I sat in a pew of an old Lutheran church nestled among recently harvested rolling fields, I hummed along as my friend sat at the organ and played For All the Saints. I reflected back a week to our All Souls service.
I believe it says a lot about who we are as individuals, as a church community, as a society, in how we honor our dead. In our ever more hectic, every day world with corporate-driven practices that define grief in HR policy and relegate just three days for sorrow before it is back to business as usual, there is a lot to learn from studying the traditions of other cultures.
In the Romany graveyards of Eastern Europe, nestled next to gold domed, centuries-old churches and scattered among the headstones of family plots there are often elaborate gazebos built with permanent tables and benches that provide regular gathering places.
When family and friends come together they bring their tastiest culinary treats, a portion to be enjoyed among the living and a portion left for the spirits. Flowing with the libations are the shared memories which braid together the stories of the departed and the lives of the next generation. Not that we should walk lock-step in the beliefs of our ancestors because that would render us unable to see injustice and work for change; unable to recognize inequity and dream of the possibility of a different world.
Rather, in remembering those who have come before us, we need to build on our heritage bringing together the good news and those parts in need of transformation. Last Sunday, we lit candles for those whose memories live in our hearts. It was good that we spoke aloud the names of those who have died.
