Ritual

An Apache girl's coming of age ceremony (courtesy of https://borderlore.org/)

DO WE REALLY HAVE NO RITUALS?

It's a common assertion that modern (read: white) people have no rituals, we lost our rituals, or we are living in a dearth of ritual. This is certainly true, at least in the traditional sense. On the other hand, the most basic definition of ritual is any act that happens exactly the same every time. Ordering in a restaurant, signing paperwork, opening Christmas presents one at a time on Christmas morning--all of these are rituals in a strict sense. However, these rituals fail to pass muster on Joseph Campbell's definition:

"A ritual is the enactment of a myth." -- Joseph Campbell

So our Christmas morning carnage of wrapping paper supposedly hearkens back to the Frankincense, Myrrh, and Gold that the three Magi presented to the Holy Family in a stable long ago, but it's probably the last thing on a seven-year-old's mind as he tears into a Lego set that cost his mother ten hours of labor as a CNA.

Although we lament the loss of ritual, most Americans would be hard pressed to say why. Something about a sense of meaning. A sense of our place in the cosmos. A sense of memory or nostalgia. Or tradition! Yes, glorious tradition! Perhaps that's the reason conservatives miss having ritual. Community togetherness? Perhaps that's the reason liberals miss ritual. But these silly generalizations of mine don't really get to the heart of why ritual is so crucial.

TIME AS A STREAM

Time is unrelenting; it "stops for no one". Ritual creates an artificial pause between past and future; it allows us to take a breath. Many of us have mundane rituals that serve this purpose--we always put an upbeat song on after getting into the car, we have silent coffee first thing in the morning, we take a hot shower every night before bed. These mundane rituals perform the function of marking time and creating a space where, at least for a moment, we have an excuse to commit our attention to the moment.

However, many rituals originated in a need to also provide narrative structure to life and time, and this approaches the more profound purpose of ritual. Funerals, for example, honor the deceased, create a way to grieve in community, and both connect us to the person we have lost while acknowledging the terrible disconnection that is now reality. However, minus the more mythical trappings, this still doesn't cut the mythical mustard.

RITUAL AS SACRED THEATER

None of what I've said so far actually explores True ritual. True rituals are those that have, for thousands of years, sustained the lives and sanity of our ancestors. These rituals many of us can only associate with other cultures, or with religions we secular people have as little to do with as possible. Picture throngs of men in traditional regalia celebrating a Shinto Matsuri. Or a child in a white jumpsuit being dipped backward into a baptismal font. Or a Brahmin in north India offering butter into a ritual fire while chanting in Sanskrit.

What all of these have in common is a root system that grows deep into the collective unconscious, and roles for the participants that place them firmly in a specific myth. Each of these rituals recreates a narrative that is ancient and essential, and places the person in the role of a hero, saint, messiah, or even God. Of course, many religions' Orthodox forms will deny this: the person getting baptized is following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, not assuming the Role of Christ Himself! But the truth is obvious: these kinds of rituals are always theater, and the whole point is that we the actors are literally playing God.

PLAYING GOD IS NORMALLY A BAD THING

Ram Dass talks about a schizophrenic relative who was hospitalized and expressed some frustration with him.

"On your weird little Hindu hippie commune, you say you're connecting with Christ consciousness, and we're all Krishna or Jesus Christ or whatever, and nobody has a problem with it. Meanwhile I say that I'm Jesus Christ, and the put me in a padded room for it."

To which Ram Dass replied: "that's because you said you're Jesus Christ and nobody else is. I say I'm Jesus Christ, and so is everyone."

This, in a nutshell, is the difference between delusional thinking and mystical thinking. The point of sacred theater, according to Joseph Campbell and other Jungian types, is that we were always Divine to begin with, and we're reminding ourselves of that. Ritual returns us to reality. It's not playing pretend in the way that we would if we played King Lear; it's playing pretend in a way that reminds us of our deep belonging in the universe. And it almost always happens in community--it connects us collectively to the same narratives, and it places us back into relationship with others. True ritual is about coming home.

BUT I'M NOT RELIGIOUS

Offering a puja to the Shivalinga, making the Hajj to Mecca, retracing the stations of the cross, are all obvious versions of ritual that recreates myth.

What I'm curious about, especially for those of us who chafe against religion, are the homegrown versions of this phenomena sprouting up in our lives. Dressing in Fishnets and going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Cosplaying as Frodo Baggins and going to a fantasy convention. Pouring out Malt Liquor at the grave of a dead cousin because he thought he was a gangster. Whatever it is, if it's bringing you home, if its reminding you who you really are and what your community really is--it's starting to become true ritual.