A is for Ancestors; and for Altars

I'm what you might call an eclectic pagan syncretist. Since my belief system pretty much follows the philosophy of Dr. Henry Jones, Jr. (I'm making this up as I go...) it isn't exactly like any other system out there. One of its major components was taken from my love of genealogy and history. My system honors my ancestors. To that end, I have become skilled in researching my genealogy. Well, I suppose in truth the genealogy came before the paganism, but that's another tale.


My "altar" is a wall of photos and memorabilia from my family, and a bookcase stuffed with photo albums, histories and reference books acquired over the last 30 years of genealogical research. I have a large wall chart that I received from my mom's baby brother and his wife in 1968 that actually got me started on the long road of research. 


Whenever I start working on my genealogy, I say a silent prayer to the ancestors to be near me and guide my research. Since so many things can go wrong (say you are trying to decide which of two different John Clevelands in the South Carolina hills is your direct ancestor, John son of James or John son of Jesse; if you research the wrong one, you will be wasting time and money, and possibly causing embarrassment if someone copies your wrong information), a prayer or offering to the ancestors for guidance can set the mood.


Many of my ceremonies are improvised based on my surroundings (am I at home, in a Mormon-run facility, or in a public library or archive; am I out in public or in private, am I in a hurry or not). Most frequently, if I am at a Mormon Family History Center, I whisper a plea to my patron and matron ancestors to come close and give me the inspiration to find my true connections and uncover new pathways to the information I seek.


Upon finding a new datum, I immediately give thanks to whichever ancestor I feel helped most. This can be as simple as saying "thank you, Aunt Elsie", or it can take the form of a major celebration. My usual one is a fist pump in the air. Then, at my next break, I make a more formal thanks offering, usually in the form of a libation.


Another part of my ancestor worship is respect for the extended family. Because I respect my family members, I have told them that I am not a believer in Christ, but not the extent of my beliefs. I would rather they keep their illusions about me intact; and yes, this is also an avoidance measure, because knowing would lead to confrontations. To most of them, I am a Universalist, which is controversial enough. (Historically my father's family is almost exclusively "missionary Baptist", an old name for the evangelical branch of that faith. My mother's side of the family is split between Methodists, what used to be Evangelical Lutherans but is now part of the United Church of Christ, and Catholics.)


More on this subject next week.