But Day of the Dead was the most anticipated day of the year because my grandfather and I would visit my grandmother at the cemetery. On this day, we did not wear costumes or knock on our neighbors’ doors asking for candies. Instead, we commemorated, remembered, and grieved our deceased family members in order to keep their memories alive.
Halloween and All Saints Day didn’t begin as a festival for candy and costumes. It was a face to face reality with the pain and loss of grieving the dead. Traditionally, this time of year brings about reflections on impermanence, the inevitability of death, the cycle of loss and the inevitable renewal.
It wasn’t until college, however, that I understood the difference between right-belief and right-action. Righteousness is more about the way we proceed through life than it is about how right we feel we are in any given circumstance.
“How is the Purple Book?” she asked me. That’s what she called Frei’s The Eclipse of Biblical Narrative, the 400-page tome I’d been plowing through all spring term. The postliberal hermeneutic inside pushed me toward an aesthetic appreciation of the Gospel. Lily liked the aesthetics of the book itself.
This series was my introduction to American culture — and a whole lot more.
This article is part of an ongoing series titled “Books that Changed My Life.” Autobiographical reviews of books that changed our lives for the better and sometimes for the worse. I consider myself to be an intellectual. I’m a lover of information, yet a loather of reading. I know, that last statement is quintessential anti-intellectual. […]