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KEN CHITWOOD

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“The person who knows only one religion, knows none”
— Max Müller

A culture, not a costume

October 28, 2015

Along with ghouls and ghosts, bags of candy and ticker-tape versions of things that go bump in the night, this year's Halloween themed décor in grocery store aisles are intermixed with skulls. But these are not just your ordinary cranial bones. Instead, they are bedecked with flowers and glitter, bright golden colors and sombreros.

They are known as "sugar skulls" or calaveras and are associated with Dia de los Muertos, or "Day of the Dead. Dia de los Muertos is a hemispheric American holiday celebrated near the end of October or the beginning of November, with the official celebrations taking place on November 1 and 2 by people in Mexico, Guatemala, the United States, and some other South American nations. 

But what are the deeper meanings behind the costumes and the wall-hangings? Is there something more happening here than Halloween furnishings and golden color schemes? Are calaveras a significant aspect of Mexican culture or just a another costume? 

“Calavera” is the Spanish word for skull, but calaveras in the context of the Day of the Dead bear extra significance. You see them all around Mexico — in poetry and graffiti murals, on shirts and jewelry, in ancient Mexica (Aztec) carvings and modern sculpture on the city streets. 

One celebrant I talked to said, “Calaveras remind us to celebrate life, to appreciate that even death is sacred, is alive. ‘La Muerte’ is inevitable, it is a right of passage, it is a place and moment to be experienced now and in the future. The dead are never gone and we should never neglect them. The inevitable, our fate or whatever you call it, cannot be avoided, it must be embraced and danced with. It can even be sweet.”

The ubiquitous symbols of the Day of the Dead — calaveras, elaborate artistic representations of a dead aristocratic woman (La Catrina) and flowers such as marigolds — not only ordain altars in homes and cemeteries, but now find their way into museums, menus, suburban jack-o-lanterns, art shows, clothing, and Hollywood runways.

“For me El Dia de los Muertos brings my family together to remember and celebrate the life of those past” said Aida Hernandez, a Houston-area Spanish teacher. “To us it is a very spiritual time and not just about the decorations or food.”

Traditionally, the Hispanic holiday is a time for families, neighborhoods and whole towns to come together to remember and celebrate the life of their ancestors, both young and old, and to make offerings (ofrendas) to the deceased. The celebrations are many and varied, but they often include elaborate processionals, graveyard ceremonies, skulls, stories of those passed and parties to celebrate the continuum between life and death.

Influenced by the Roman Catholic celebration of All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days the holiday has its roots in Mayan and Aztec customs and beliefs. The modern manifestation of the Day of the Dead is an amalgamation of various cultural influences both North and South of the border. As MSNBC’s Alyx Kaczuwka reported:

The pre-Hispanic, Mayan and Aztec roots of the Day of the Dead, or Dia de los Muertos, date back at least 3,000 years. Traditionally associated with Mexico, its celebration has also found its way around the world, often blending in local cultural influences with the ancient traditions.

What is really fascinating is how the Day of the Dead is not only an alleviating institution for indigenous and Spanish speaking cultures in the Americas, but also now for el Norte in the co-opting of the holiday’s symbols in U.S. pop culture. Whereas the mestiza/o — mixed race — or Indian community of the Americas originally took the initiative in developing these meaningful mixes as a way to reclaim a sense of agency in a cultural milieu that demeaned their social standing and stripped them of power, now non-Latina/o Americans are embracing the symbology of the celebration as a way to give material voice to the new mestizaje being created in the crucible of contemporary, trans-local, American culture.

As reported by the Associated Press: In the last decade or so, this traditional Latin American holiday with indigenous roots has spread throughout the U.S. along with migration from Mexico and other countries where it is observed. Not only are U.S.-born Latinos adopting the Day of the Dead, but various underground and artistic non-Latino groups have begun to mark the Nov. 1-2 holidays through colorful celebrations, parades, exhibits and even bike rides and mixed martial arts fights.  

However, this co-option and adaptation of this traditionally Mexican holiday is not without its misunderstandings and misappropriations. On Facebook, my friend Paola recently shared the following post speaking to her heart and her passion for this holiday. To best understand what the symbols mean, without just dressing up in a costume that seems chic and "authentic," please read her first-hand account below: 

“I love Texas and in particular the Houston area because it has a rich mix of culture — you can literally find everything here!

Lately, I have seen grocery stores and some party stores carrying what in Mexico is known as Dia de los Muertos or “Day of the Dead” decorations! I have to admit that I thought it was so cool that my local H-E-B or Kroger [two grocery stores in Texas] care enough to bring my culture to retail.

However as a dear friend of mine pointed out to me, this is not really bringing the Mexican culture to Texas if most of the people do not know what all this means. She is absolutely right! For example, one time I heard somebody saying that all those skeletons were part of a satanic ritual called “Santa Muerte” [though there is a tradition of belief and ritual surrounding “Santa Muerte” it is distinct from the practice of Dia de los Muertos]. I know that most of my friends here have an idea what “Dia de los muertos” is, but I would like to take some time to let you know a little more about it in my own words:

My ancestors believe that the most important journey for us begins after your soul departs from here, however that soul will have one more chance to come and visit its loved ones! Sometimes those souls will forget how to get back “home” so the family will lay a path of familiar things to guide the way (like flowers, favorite food or drinks, incense, candles and pictures). That my ancestors were able to continue doing this for their loved ones, even after the Spanish took so many of traditions away, is incredible!

The sugar skull tradition that seems to be popular right now comes from what we call a “Calavera” or “Catrina” (‘Dapper Skeleton’ or ‘Elegant Skull’), which made its first appearance in 1910 by a famous Mexican printmaker, cartoon illustrator and lithographer name José Guadalupe Posada. The image depicts a female skeleton dressed only in a hat befitting the upper class outfit of a European of her time. She is offered as a satirical portrait of those Mexican natives who, Posada felt, were aspiring to adopt European aristocratic traditions in the pre-revolutionary era. Now does everyone dress and paint their faces like this? I would like to say yes, but the reality is no! Indeed, not everybody in Mexico is proud of being Mexican!

And that’s it, for me this is not just a costume, it is indicative of my culture — its vitality, its survival, its adaptation, its tradition. More than that, I believe that thanks to this tradition I was available to meet many of my relatives that passed away before or shortly after I was born and every time I help in my house to set the offering on the table or every time we went to visit their graves my family talks to us. As we remember funny little stories about them or my grandma will prepare their favorite meals, it is a great way to keep them alive.

So next time you are walking in your grocery aisle and found something “Dia de los muertos” related and you have no idea what is for now you will know a little bit more! #WeAreACulture #NotJustACostume”
— Paola


In Faith Goes Pop, Religion and Culture Tags Dia de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, Calaveras, Sugar skull, Mestizo, Mestizaje, Hybridity
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The Passion of Justin Bieber, Surf Church, & other Recent #FaithGoesPop Sightings

April 2, 2015

The goal of #FaithGoesPop is to pay attention to, sight, and comment on the many ways that religion and pop culture cross paths, intermesh, and come into conflict. The hope is that our exploration of "Faith Pop" would be broad enough to include the ways religion is re-appropriated in popular culture and how popular culture is re-allocated by religious actors and entities. To do this successfully I called on many of you to sight your "Faith Pop" and let me know when you saw #FaithGoesPop via Facebook, Twitter, & e-mail. 

You've done very well. 

We've got a fresh new harvest of #FaithGoesPop sightings ranging from water bottles to the passion of Justin Bieber, from soul food seders to surf church and everything in between. Lez get started. 

  • All the way from California Alex W. sent me a pic of "Noah Water: California Spring Water." Yes, they went there.

Noah's Water, flooding your thirst since the Deluvian age. 

You know, because nothing screams "clever marketing" louder than a Hebrew Torah narrative about Ha Shem (G-d) wiping humans, animals, and (possibly?) unicorns off the face of the earth with torrential downpours and water spouts from the pits of hell? (See Genesis 6-9) And if that isn't ironic enough, they call it "Noah's Water," because, you know, after spending 40 days and nights floating on a world of water all that Noah wants is a tall, cool, glass of spring water. Yeah right. I'd imagine that every time Noah drank a glass of water after the Genesis flood he suffered from a serious case of PTSD. "Flood your thirst." Brilliant tagline. About as good as a tagline for red paint that reads, "Passover Proof" or these tasteless salt and pepper shakers featuring Lot and his wife. Nice touch by catching the sheer terror of Lot's wife with her arms raised in a running pose. 

"What's going on here?!" you ask. Irony. Pure, Gen X-er & Millennial proof irony. As Brett McCracken of RELEVANT magazine notes:

“It’s no secret: Our generation—letʼs very roughly say those of us currently between college age and 40—is very, very ironic. That is, we look at the world, especially pop culture, through a highly sarcastic, “youʼve got to be joking, right?” lens. More self-aware and media savvy than ever, we are a growing class of ironists who speak in terms of pastiche, Internet bits and pop culture bites, film quotes and song lyrics, and “oh no she didnʼt!” tabloid tomfoolery. We look the stupidity of culture in the face and kiss it...”
— Brett McCracken, RELEVANT Magazine

McCracken reflects that irony has become a defense mechanism for the savvy generations that grew up in a society where earnestness failed and consumer capitalism ran rampant. Irony is a way to strip the forces of global capitalism and normal nihilism from their inevitable and quasi divine force. How? To make sure nothing is sacred and everything is ridiculous. I can't quite complain. I'm part of this generation. I swallow pastiche & appreciate sardonicism with the best of them. But I must say, with Noah's Water we may have outdone ourselves. 

*FYI, our last #FaithGoesPop compendium featured an H20 bottle as well. There is something in the water folks. 

  • Now, from water to beer. Ben C. out in California shared a photo of a "Holy Hefeweizen" that he had the honor of blessing before it was tapped for the St. Patrick season at a local SoCal brewery.

Of course, religious quaffs are nothing new. Sages across the ages have not only enjoyed a drink or two, but brewed a few (or hundreds) of gallons as well and there are even deities of the sacred draughts. If you were tempted, like I am, to give thanks for the saintly suds from above, you could turn to Silenus, Greek god of beer, or Ninkasi, the Sumerian goddess who slakes the thirst of the world with the fruit of her bounteous hops. Here in the Americas, you could magnify the Mexica deity Tezcatzontecatl, god of drunkenness. Perhaps, with a swig of ale you could proclaim the accolades of Mbaba Mwana Waresa, the Zulu god credited with brewing the first beer in creation. To learn more about the storied history of religion & beer, check out

  • Staying at the table for our #FaithGoesPop sightings I came across a "Soul Food Seder" in the most recent edition of Sunset Magazine. 

Sunset shares the story of chef Tanya Holland (again, in California) who runs Oakland's Brown Sugar Kitchen who makes a case for the best soul food west of the Mississippi. For years, she's wanted to host a seder. Married Phil Surkis, who is Jewish, the pair invited friends and family over for a "soul food seder" that harmonized African American and Jewish culture, recipes, and rituals. The result? North African styled haroseth symbolizing the mortar the Hebrews were forced to make bricks from in Egypt; Creole Matzo-ball Soup; & flourless chocolate pecan cake. This remix on a rather traditional table setting and menu is the quintessence of cultural hybridity. Fusing her African American roots and Jewish husband's background on one level and redeeming history (using North African recipe elements for foods representing the liberating meal of a people once enslaved there) on another, Holland created a "third-space" out the post-colonial pieces that make up her mélange family story. The result? A table full of fellowship, stories, and a recipe for the future of religion and culture. 

  • Next, another merger. This time: surf church. 

Photo from The Los Angeles Times story on Pepperdine's surf chapels.

It seems we can't get away from California (I promise, the next sighting won't be from the Left Coast). But I can't say no to my mom, who sighted this one and sent it my way. Out at Pepperdine University, students are given the opportunity to attend "Surf Chapel." The Los Angeles Times reported, "First they listen to Bible passages and break up into small groups to share emotional highs and lows. Then many of them don wetsuits, grab boards from a Pepperdine recreation department truck and hit the waves." The surfer's service is led by former Navy-man and current business professor Rob Shearer who "carries his surfboard and his New American Standard Bible and wades into the sacred realm of the outdoors, where he expounds the merits of religious belief and community building" every Wednesday with Pepperdine undergrads. 

Surfing and religion have a wavy history. Pepperdine profs aren't alone in taking to the waves to surf the spirit. Indeed, Dr. Bron Taylor (University of Florida) reflected in Surfing magazine and elsewhere that "soul surfers" who testify to the "physical, psychological, and spiritual" benefits of surfing constitute their own "new religious movement" which prescribes a reverence for nature's "transformative, healing, and sacred" powers.

Like the close-calls and cuts of surfers contending for the same break it seems "soul surfers" and those "surfing for the Savior" may compete to catch the same spiritual swell.  

  • kay, I promised. No more California. Let's head to Brazil and move from "surfing the spirits" to "slaying in the Spirit." 

Slaying them in the Spirit. 

Celso F. sighted this gem of a graphic image illustrating a Pare de Sufrir warrior cutting down an effigy of a mai de santo (lit. "mother of saint") the Candomble religion of Brazil. Vitor Teixeira, a South American political humorist and illustrator often takes his pen-and-ink out on the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God (UCKG, or Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus), also known as Pare de Sufrir (lit. "stop suffering"). Here, he makes clear the theological bent of the 8 million member strong neo-Pentecostal megachurch, which is planting churches in places as diverse as Houston, TX and London, England. With an emphasis on Spirit-fueled healing of the body, prophecy, baptism in the Holy Spirit, glossolalia (speaking in tongues), and eternal salvation the UCKG sees itself as a bulwark against satanic influences in poverty, crime, and competing religions. Thus, the church trains their followers to be "warriors" to fight against Afro-Brazilian religions such as Candomble and Umbanda  (see the 2005 book Orixás, Caboclos e Guias: Deuses ou Demônios? by founding pastor Edir Macedo). 

The conflict, and the embodied, pneumatic, and apocalyptic essence of UCKG highlights the triumphant, and even dominionist, theology of some new global Pentecostalisms. While not representative of all Pentecostals, the UCKG makes explicit the swelling numbers of those Spirit-filled evangelicals who aim to "raise champions and take territories" for the Lord relying on a worldview that sees the spiritual manifest in city blocks, and visceral contestations over human bodies. In their view, the spiritual is all pervasive and everything material is a potential vessel of divine power -- nefarious or benevolent. Everything is spiritual. Thus, the Spirit of God must be called upon to fight and cure physical enemies and realities -- social, political, economic, and religious. 

  • Speaking of spiritual battles, let's talk about "The Passion of Justin Bieber."

You can't un-do seeing this photo. It's burned in your memory for-ev-er [insert "Sandlot" voiceover here].

Andrew R. sent me a link to a Jezebel story wherein the author highlights the parallels between Jesus Christ's passion during #HolyWeek and the recent roasting of everyone's favorite popstar to hate -- Justin Bieber. Other than the expected, but nonetheless lame, jokes about "believers" and "Beliebers" the roast featured a long list of B-list celebs taking the mickey out of Bieber in a thinly veiled attempt to resurrect his career. 

While the author makes it clear that, in reality, "apart from their scant biographical similarities" JB and JC have nothing in common it seems we've come full circle in our exploration of #FaithGoesPop. We started with irony. We end with irony. What could be more satirical than a parallel comparison of the passion narrative of a man many consider divine with a man many consider a boy? 

The answer? Noah Water, that's what. 

Conclusion

As you can see folks, religion is everywhere. Not only does it serve as a launching point for caustic humor, but despite the prophecies of secular theorists who foresaw the decline of religion in the 21st-century the world is a seemingly very sacred place. At home altars and in public processions of faith, from breweries to Biebers, religion helps us to make meaning of popular culture. Religion, what Dr. Anthony Pinn of Rice University sums up as "the quest for complex subjectivity" involves our search to answer the fundamental questions of our existence and invest life -- in all its material pop culture glory -- with significant, transcendent, meaning. 

Keep your eyes peeled friends. You shouldn't have to look too hard. #FaithGoesPop is everywhere. 

In Faith Goes Pop Tags #FaithGoesPop, Justin Bieber's passion, Pare de Sufrir, Candomble and Pentecostalism, Pentecostalism, UCKG, Surf church, Pepperdine surf chapel, Surfing as religion, Bron Taylor, Soul food seder, Tanya Holland, Beer blessing, Holy Hefeweizen, RELEVANT magazine, Culture of irony, Noah's Water, Flood your thirs, Lot and wife salt shakers, Pastiche, Hybridity, Faith Goes Pop
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Preaching, Diversity, & Hybrid Churches

March 10, 2015

Recently, I had the honor of posting two blogs on the FiveTwo.com site. FiveTwo is all about sharpening sacramental entrepreneurs to start new spiritual communities. I've been working with FiveTwo at the local and national level since 2010 and enjoy being a regular contributor to their blog. 

My two blogs covered the very important topic of how to work with, and preach in, a multi-ethnic setting. My proposals were to aim for hybridity -- in our understanding, preparation, methods, and delivery. 

I offered, "Hybridity doesn’t begin in the pulpit. It starts with deliberate efforts to build “third spaces” where the multiple cultures, backgrounds, and ethnicities in your community can come together to mix socially, borrow culturally, and learn from one another spiritually. Hybridity, at its best, should not favor one culture over the other, but instead should emphasize equilateral exchange. This should be evident not only in your pulpit (we will get to this later), but in our staffing, our programming, our discipleship, our outreach, our choir, our altar guild, or our Monday afternoon social sports teams. We have to build hybridity into our churches from the ground up, together."

Here are the links for the two blogs:

  • Preaching, Diversity, and Hybrid Cultures
  • Remixing the Pulpit

There was some significant pushback on this article. In fact, there were three specific critiques. While I hope to address these criticisms in subsequent, unique, blog posts, I want to take a moment to identify and briefly address them here:

  • One commenter challenged that the liturgy (as conceived by confessional Lutherans) is universal. To this, I openly wonder -- is the liturgy truly universal? Has it not been adapted? Changed? How does it exclude and create boundaries? Furthermore, is a universal liturgy the goal? Should there not be a certain degree of contextualization? In the end, my discussion of hybridity is about contextualization, not universalization. Thus, the commenter and I are talking cross-purposes and aiming at different ends. 
  • Another interlocutor accused me of undermining the "office of preaching" and Article XIV of the Augsburg Confession. For my non-Lutheran readership, I am sorry; this is particularly pedantic for you. I started to address this challenge on Twitter and intimated that hybrid preaching does not necessarily undermine the "office of preaching" as conceived in AC XIV. Having a creative team to help plan a preaching series, community exegetical work, and multiple preachers can all be guided and directed by an ordained and properly called pastor. Just as we have (LC-MS Lutherans and others) built upon the pastoral office to include commissioned positions (DCE, DCO, Deacon, Deaconess, teacher) so too we can invite multiple people into the process of preaching under the auspices of the regular call of the pastor who leads the process and not undermine that office. 
  • Finally, another commenter asked me to provide an "ideal hybrid service." Again, in reference to the first point above, I think this is missing my point. Hybrid services are inherently contextual. They are based in interpreting your local community and applying Scripture and confessional theology into the neighborhood you find yourself called to bless and serve. I can't give you a "ideal" hybrid service. That's the work I propose you do. You'll have to be the one to "keep your look in the book and your feet in the street." (Thanks Rev. Greg Seltz for that one!) In my article I put forward particular postures that can aid this process, but that's about as far as I can go. One of the beauties of our synod (again, the LC-MS here) is that we walk together as a synod, holding to central theological postures, but we are locally diverse (at least, at our best). We do not need, and indeed are reticent, to enforce conformity from the top-down. This call for contextualized, hybrid, structures, services, and preaching is an extension of the heart of our synodical, congregation-based, polity. Furthermore, it also underlines our sacramental, tangible, and flesh-and-blood-here-and-now-faith-in-the-streets theology. 

With all this said, I invite you to read the original pieces (HERE and HERE), share them, comment on them, and become part of the conversation. 

In Church Ministry Tags FiveTwo, Bill Woolsey, AC Article XIV, Preaching office, Multi-ethnic churches, Hybridity, Ken Chitwood, Confessional Lutheranism
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