In our push toward a multicultural society, Americans have lost sight of our individual past. In our rush to be democratic, we have lost our sense of dignity. In our urge to be open, we have lost our appreciation for ritual.
Our lives used to be filled with ritual. Ages ago, when life revolved around the twin suns of the natural, agrarian world and the formal religion of our homelands, ritual imbued every life, every day. From feast days to harvest moons, ritual was woven into society; one might even say that ritual created society, shaped it, set its rhythm. Ritual infused everyday events with power and meaning, and helped us mark those once-in-a-lifetime events with the importance they deserved.
But now? Bit by bit, as we demand a more secular government, we remove ritual from public life. As we struggle to reconcile the dogma of religious teachings with the evidence of scientific inquiry, we dilute the power of those rituals our religions provide. This all became starkly clear to me a short time ago, in the wake of my mother’s death.
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