What’s a feast? - The complex influences on Folk practices
Put simply, a feast is a celebration of an empowered or elevated spirit. It’s like a birthday party nut for saints, ancestors, deities, and other revered spirits.
When it comes to Folk Catholicism
We have to discuss the varied influences coloring feast days. Here’s the thing—it’s different for everyone.
I see Folk Catholicism as what I call “A Braided Practice”. Meaning, each practitioner brings together their own influences. Commonly there are at least 2 influences or stands being brought together under the umbrella term “folk”.
My style of Folk Catholicism has 3 strands of influence: Roman Catholicism, Mexican Brujeria, and Espiritismo (as seen in Mexico & the southern US). I’d break those down even further to demonstrate commonalities.
Most Folk practices draw power from:
A dominant, organized, religion
An ancestral religion or spirituality
A spiritual science / practical modality
We can't understate that many modern folk practices result from generations of colonization, assimilation, and survival. As such, many utilize dominant religions as a facade to preserve indigenous beliefs and practices. I’ve noticed among my generation of practitioners that we’re on the opposite side of the spectrum. Rather than preserving the traditions we’re raised with, many of us have to completely reclaim or redevelop a connection to our ance4stor’s magic. I imagine that’s a result of at least 2 generations of complete assimilation.a
A forsaken past forgets the future.
My Mom’s generation is Catholic in name but mostly secular; praying infrequently, disregarding many draconian doctrines, and attending ceremonies on rare occasions. For many like her, religion is cool and necessary but ultimately comes second to daily life.
My Grandma’s generation is much sterner, adhering to more restrictive doctrines, engaging more frequently with religion (usually with some degree of fear), and placing greater importance on being a “good catholic”.
What I find interesting is that 2 generations prior to her, we get into some mysticism.
Little Grandma, fighting ghosts with the Santo Nino
I’ve been regaled with tales of my great great grandma my whole life. I’ve heard her described as A strong Apache woman, a loving caregiver, and a low-key bruja.
My uncle was often in Little Grandma’s care, spending long amounts of time with her while my grandma worked 3 jobs and drank like a dehydrated fish. He once shared a tale he called a ghost story with me. As he describes it, one night, he was getting ready for bed. Little Grandma in her nightgown, a salt and pepper braid trailed down her back, almost reaching the floor, came into the bedroom solemnly. Prepared for her nightly prayers, rosary in hand, she sat in front of a small altar, called my uncle to join her, and began reciting the rosary.
Before a statue of El Santo Nino de Atocha, she prayed her prayers, calling protections, peace, and prosperity over her loved ones. Her eyes closed, prayers now being recited in a mix of Spanish and an unknown language as her presence intensified.
Being a child, my uncle was bored and started to disrupt Little Grandma. Poking and pulling at her relentlessly.
Politely Little Grandma shushed him in between her prayers. Briefly explaining, “Y hito, these prayers protect us.”, before being pulled back into her trance-like prayers.
This small child, no more than 7, couldn’t wait. He kept pestering her and soon found out just how important these prayers were.
Stopping her prayers abruptly and angrily, Little Grandma snapped at him.
As soon as she stopped, the lights in the house flickered.
A chill wind sweeps across the room, extinguishing candles and rattling their spines.
A clear night turns stormy in an instant.
“Shit.”.
Little Grandma, in all her power, stands and restarts her prayers, now beseeching the infant Jesus to destroy the evil around them. Loudly proclaiming protection over herself and my uncle. Her icon of the Holy Infant rattles, a glass of water slides across the table aggressively. “See? Now sit and pray”, she says to my now stunned silent uncle.
As she finishes praying, she places her rosary beads upon the icon and crosses herself. As if nothing happened, climbs in bed and never says a word about it again.
The influence of diverse thought
Now Little Grandma was catholic by all accounts. Yet her prayers are deeper, more effective, and strategically used to address any situation. In her methodology, her comfort engaging with spirits, and her devotion to a patron saint, I see elements of spiritism. The fact that she opened and closed a ceremony with specific prayers, called upon her spirits and combated an unknown entity like it’s a regular night is bad ass to say the least.
The love she had for The Santo Nino of Atocha is of particular interest to me. He’s an extremely relevant spirit, culturally. Dressed as a Spanish pilgrim and known for helping incarcerated people, I’m not surprised those colonized by the Spanish found comfort in his image and folklore.
In Mexico and the Caribbean, this saint is heavily synchronized. Often conflated with elevated African Spirits like Ellegua or Exu for his traveller, healer, and road opener aspects. He’s also synchanized with indigenous spirits of early spring and gentle fertility. Several Nauatl Gods are revered through this catholic image as well. The synchronization is varied and sometimes so subliminal that practitioners don’t recognize it. My grandma and mom are in that category, unaware of the depth of spiritual power held in the image of a tiny child.
I have an intense devotion with The Infant of Atocha. He represents all aspects of renewal, newness, and rejuvenation. He’s spring, he’s creativity, he’s the trickster wisdom of a child who’s savvy beyond their years. I associate him with Quetzalcoatl in many ways.
Ya know, I still have that statue my great, great, grandma poured so much devotion into. He’s the center of my ancestral altar and one of the first faces I greet each morning.
Bringin it back
I hope this story highlights the complexity of folk-catholic beliefs. Sometimes faith is so powerful, so deep, so ancestral that it radiates from us, resonating with the divine in any form it takes.
One way we show devotion to patron saints like this is via the annual feast. Mose elevated spirits request infrequent offerings unless nescecary for addressing an arising problem. On average, we take time one day a year to show our spirits love. Giving them symbols of their patronage, specific flowers, drinks, candles, and of course prayers.
The way this looks depends on the strands in YOUR braid. What cultural or ancestral influences do you recognize in your practice?
