Emmanuel Magazine March/April 2018 | Page 8

Emmanuel “Closet Sacramentalists” My children are as catholic as they come — and “Catholic,” too, in the way the late Andrew Greeley, SJ, was fond of using the term. They inhabit a world that is nothing if not “enchanted,” one suffused with symbolic meaning and revelatory of some hidden truth that lies just beneath, just beyond, just outside the immediate face of things. To my way of thinking, they are “closet sacramentalists,” custodians of an array of objects and rites and indelible markings borrowed more or less from the outward form of the religion to which they were exposed through years of Catholic education and countless turns at lighting the family Advent candle, marking the front door at Epiphany, or stoking the parking lot bonfire that announced Easter’s yearly arrival in the parish where they were baptized. Their music — overtly dirge-like at times and almost always in the minor mode — is the hymnody of a perpetual celebration of the Eve of All Hallows, as legitimate an artistic confrontation with human mortality as any concert-hall performance of a Requiem Mass that masks death for the sake of aesthetics. It makes sense that mask-wearing of one kind or another should appeal to them, a convention mostly associated in this country with the gleeful Trick-or-Treating of children, but borne of an ancient and serious desire to transform the self while scaring away the more menacing agents of the Underworld. To see them perform on stage amid the dark silhouettes of amplifiers, mic stands, and instrument racks, a throng of onlookers before them holding cell phones aloft like lighted tapers, is to be transported to the burial-place settings of the Dia de los Muertos celebrated annually in Latin American countries or the Samhain handed down in Celtic regions to welcome the “darker half” of the lunar calendar. One can imagine them pouring out the remains of the beers and soft drinks that multiply at their feet as libations for the invisible Muse they serve or fidgeting with the carved figure of a santos or two, the decorative details of some nicho or retablo or the glowing, round form of a Jack-O-Lantern in place of the soundboard dials and faders that bring their performing to life. Swept up in their music, my kids experience the “liminality” known throughout history by the creative and the pious alike, the dervish- 74