Ancestor Veneration Around the World
Even though many people today are embracing the concept of ancestor work, it’s hardly a new idea. Nearly every ancient culture venerated those who came before them, in some way, shape, or form, and it’s not uncommon at all to look back through history and find ways that people celebrated their badass kin.
From an anthropological standpoint, the veneration of the ancestors is considered one of the earliest forms of spiritual or religious expression. There is some question as to what actually constitutes ancestor worship in early societies, and a number of variables. Some societies honored collective ancestors rather than linear ones, and there are different ways, across cultures, that the living can be influenced by the dead.
In a 2016 study, Hunter-Gatherers and the Origins of Religion, researchers Hervey C. Peoples, Pavel Duda, and Frank W. Marlowe proposed that there’s a direct correlation between ancestor veneration and the appearance of shamanism. In early cultures that practiced ancestor worship, in one form or the other, the existence of shamanism almost always appears to indicate a stable society. In groups that don’t practice shamanism but do venerate their dead, society appears a little shakier economically, politically, and culturally. In addition, many of the groups that still practice ancestor veneration today, as their forebears did, believe that the dead have a profound and powerful influence over the living.
The Early Period
Scholars have spent a lot of time evaluating, from an anthropological and archaeological perspective, the funerary practices of the ancient Middle East, particularly the areas that are now known as Iraq and Syria. During the days of Gilgamesh and Hammurabi, dead ancestors survived socially; belief in their existence after death created a parallel world in which they wandered about side by side with their living descendants. For the people of this region, which the Greeks called Mesopotamia, the dead were simply a part of daily life.
The Mesopotamians cared for their departed family members by offering daily gifts of bread and water, as well as gathering regularly to honor the cult of their ancestors. They wrote epic poems and songs and prayers honoring their dead. In their work In Remembrance of Me: Feasting with the Dead in the Ancient Middle East, Virginia Rimmer Herrmann and J. David Schloen tell the story of a man named Katumuwa, who commissioned a stone monument to be carved with his image and his name, along with instructions for his descendants to honor him annually with a great feast. His monument was uncovered in 2008; his memorial—officially known as the Katumuwa Stele—is one of many found in Turkey and other parts of the Middle East. Katumuwa’s inscriptions shed light on the practices of his people, particularly because the text explains that his soul itself is present in the stone to receive the offerings of his children and grandchildren for generations to come. How badass would it have been if your great-something grandparents, a century or two ago, had left you a To Do list with guidelines as to how they wanted to be honored in the afterlife?
In addition to ancestral memorials kept in private homes, there is evidence that the people of Mesopotamia also held regular banquets at tombs. Neighborhood burial areas were designated for individuals who might have held positions of prominence in the community or who were communal ancestors, and they were honored with offerings of food and drink, flowers, and incense.
The Roman Parentalia
In ancient Rome, the Parentalia was an annual nine-day celebration held each February to honor the spirits of the ancestors. All business and court activities ceased, temples were closed, and no marriage ceremonies took place. Public opening ceremonies were held on the Ides of the month, February 13, in which deified family members were welcomed with a ritual led by one of the priestesses of Vesta. A goddess of family life, the hearth, and domesticity, Vesta was worshiped in Rome for many years, and her priestesses were known as the Vestals. Don’t let the idea of the Vestal Virgin fool you—the Vestals were pretty badass, and their role of tending the sacred fire of Rome was crucial to the city’s security and livelihood.
Every Roman household had a shrine to the Lares, or spirits of dead ancestors, and the Parentes, who were immediate family members that had passed away, like a mother or father. When someone died, a mask was made of the person’s face, and hung in the home in a place of honor. Offerings were made, both at the masks and at the tomb. The ancestors spoke through the voices of oracles when people had a question that needed answering.
Some Romans had small statuettes of their lost loved ones that they took with them if they traveled. In the film Gladiator, Russell Crowe’s titular character, a warrior named Maximus, prays to small icons of his dead wife and son. Maximus also invokes “blessed father” and “blessed mother,” calling upon his own deceased parents in his prayers.
During the Parentalia, families gathered together to visit the graves of their deceased loved ones outside the city to avoid polluting the living. To celebrate your bloodline as the Romans did during Parentalia, visit the graves of your ancestors, and pour a libation of wine at the headstone.
Eternal Life for the Dead in Egypt
In ancient Egypt, it was much the same as in Rome—the dead were buried with great honor, pomp, and circumstance, and then sent off with all of the things they’d need in the afterlife. People actually cared about their dead. They venerated them long after they passed away, and celebrated them. During the New Kingdom period, around 1550–1069 B.C.E., an ancestor cult thrived in Egypt; excavations have revealed carved busts of ancestors kept in a place of honor in family homes.
In December 2018, archaeologists uncovered an 18th Dynasty villa near the site of an ancient city, Tell Edfu, several hundred miles south of Cairo. Led by professor Nadine Moeller, researchers from the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago discovered that the villa’s main hall included a shrine dedicated to the family’s deceased kinfolk. The shrine contained a small fireplace and altar, numerous inscribed stelae, and statuettes of people, including a seated scribe. One of the stelae featured images of a man and woman standing beside one another surrounded by hieroglyphs that displayed not only their names and titles but also the recipe for a common offering formula.
Burial excavations from around Egypt have revealed the existence of hundreds of clay and metal pots and jars that held food and drink. This practice of sealing meal offerings along with the body into tombs is evident in the burial chamber of the man who could be considered Egypt’s most famous mummified ruler, Tutankhamun, but they have also been found in the graves of average citizens. If sitting down to dine with family in life is considered a way of strengthening connections, then sharing meals with them in the afterlife is a way to keep that bond as they move onto the next world.
For those who walked the realm of the living, caring for the dead was a condition of one’s status; if you treated your dead with reverence and respect, they would bless you with abundance and fortune. It was a reciprocal relationship; the dead depended on the living for a high-quality existence in the afterlife.
Mexico and Mesoamerica
In Mexico and in many Mexican communities in the United States, Dia de los Muertos is observed for three days, beginning on the evening of October 31 and continuing through November 2. This is the Day of the Dead celebration, a time when families gather together, pack picnic lunches, and go to cemeteries to honor the memories of family members who have died in the past year, with special attention paid to children and infants on the first day. Altars, or ofrendas, include colored tissue ribbons, flowers, photos of the dead, and candles. It’s also popular to include food offerings with a theme of death—sugar skulls and coffins are a common item, as are small figures made of bread.
In some of the Yucatan Peninsula’s smaller villages in the state of Campeche, the Day of the Dead is called Hanal Pixan, a Yucatán phrase that means “feeding of the souls.” Photographer George Fery has spent years in Campeche, respectfully creating images that show how residents keep the bones of their ancestors in wooden crates which are then stored in colorfully painted concrete mausoleums. Fery describes the way each box is lined with a cloth embroidered by a family member that depicts the person’s image, name, and a short memorial text. When visiting tombs at Hanal Pixan, family members gently remove the bones from the box, and clean them with a soft brush while praying and speaking words of praise to the deceased. After the bones are cleaned, they’re covered in a fresh cloth and returned until next year’s celebration.
In the Zinacantec Mayan culture of Mesoamerica, ancestral guardians formed the cornerstone of shamanistic practice. Author Robert M. Torrance explains in The Spiritual Quest: Transcendence in Myth, Religion, and Science that a shaman might venture on a quest, often with as many as nineteen different steps to be taken, each involving prayers, candles, and sacrifices. Making the pilgrimage from his village to the ceremonial center down the mountainside, the shaman would stop at a series of shrines to offer prayers to his ancestor gods for healing, enlightenment, and more.
Among the Inca, deceased members of the royal family were mummified and served burnt offerings and drinks. They were also watched over by a living guardian, whose job it was to ensure the deceased had everything they needed in the afterlife. In return, they were consulted for their opinions on matters of state, an extension of the idea of the Inca king’s divine rulership.
In much of the Andes, ancestor worship extended beyond royal family members to include all social classes. A sixteenth-century Quechua nobleman, Felipe Huaman Poma de Ayala, spent much of his life chronicling the impact Spanish conquistadores had upon the people of the Andes. He wrote that after someone died, members of the extended family washed and cared for the body, providing the deceased with the reverence appropriate to their station in society. The body might be kept in a tomb, but could also reside in a relative’s home shrine, where they would be honored regularly with prayer and sacrifices. This typically took place only with lineal descendants and usually only through a few generations, but it was believed that treatment of ancestral spirits had a direct effect on one’s fortune and health. Disrespect or negligence would result in financial ruin and physical ailments.
You can use these practices and customs as inspiration for your own ancestor veneration if your badass kinfolk come from Mexico or Central America. If your loved ones are buried nearby, make a day of it to stop at the cemetery to clean their headstones and leave a small token or offering in tribute.
Watchful, Protective Ancestors
In some European cultures, particularly among Scandinavian societies, ancestors were buried near the home so they could keep a watchful eye on the family. The deceased helped bring honor and fortune to the surviving members; in return, the family made offerings to the dead in a specifically ritualized format (barley or beer were popular in early Germanic tribes). Families who failed to honor their dead properly could find themselves facing misfortune or catastrophe. To honor your ancestors with a Nordic theme, make offerings of food and beverage at a gravesite. Make this a formal occasion, perhaps even reciting your lineage as far back as you can, e.g., Hail to my ancestor, Andrew, son of James, son of Ingrid, daughter of Mary, and so on.
Among Norse societies, one of the most important gifts one could receive from their ancestors was fertile land. It was also believed that one inherited hamingja, or good fortune, from ancestors as well as property. An ancestor who had been successful in life was assumed to continue being prosperous in death and could grant favors and fortune to their descendants. There was a reciprocal nature to this, of course—offerings to the ancestors were the best way to invite their generosity. The dead existed side by side with the living and had the ability to bestow protection, inspiration, and power upon those who treated them well.
Eastern Spirituality
In many Asian cultures, ancestor veneration is practiced as a matter of routine. It’s not so much a sense of worship as it is reverence for those who came before. This is due in part to an emphasis on family lines, and Confucius himself taught that the elders should be treated with honor. The notion of “family” was not just the people who lived in your immediate household, but your extended network of aunts and uncles, cousins and kinfolk, both living and deceased.
The Shinto practices of Japan and Buddhist practices of most of Asia include practices of filial piety; when an individual died, elaborate ceremonies would be held at both the funeral location and within the home. Just because someone passed on did not mean they would no longer be remembered, and most homes even today have a small shrine or altar dedicated to the ancestors. Offerings of fruit, incense, and flowers are presented and there is often a small tablet inscribed with the names of the deceased family members. These altars allow families to not only have a focal point for veneration of their dead but to have something to show outsiders, as a source of pride in their ancestry as well.
The living pay tribute to the dead as payment of debts owed and to show gratitude for the gifts received. As for the dead, they offer the living financial abundance, prosperity, and the blessing of descendants to honor you in the afterlife in direct proportion to how much you’ve cared for your own people. If you have Asian ancestors, add a small shelf on your wall with a photo of the deceased, some incense, flowers, and cups for offerings.
Native American Nations
Some of the native tribes indigenous to the Americas have always honored the spirits of their ancestors. The Iroquois of the eastern portion of the United States have a rich cultural history that includes ancestral spirits who watched over the people in their day-to-day activities as well as visiting the living during their dreams. In Iroquois society, the dead are respected and honored with regular feasts. In many Native American tribal and First Nation groups, the ancestral guides are part of a collective in which all people and animals are descended from communal ancestors.
In 1896, an explorer named Walter McClintock went to Montana, where he spent the next four years living among the Blackfoot people. In 1910, he wrote a book, The Old North Trail, about his experiences with Blackfoot folklore and religious customs. He relays a number of ghost stories in his narrative, including several that indicate the Blackfoot took very good care of their deceased ancestors. In some cases, they would keep the skeleton of a beloved family member in a rawhide bag for many years—one chief transported his dead brother this way for hundreds of miles, which was considered an act of great honor and devotion.
Evidence of ancestor veneration has also been found in archaeological discoveries in the American southwest among the Sonoran Desert peoples. In The Oxford Handbook of North American Archaeology, Lisa Young describes shrines that include small figurines that have been found in excavations of both public areas and private households. In the same book, author Barbara Mills writes of an Anasazi site in New Mexico, where family members were memorialized with a variety of objects placed inside crypts, including adding the bones of those newly deceased to blend in with the old.
The Spirits of Africa
African Americans both in African Traditional Religions (ATR) and in mainstream Abrahamic faith systems have historically placed a lot of emphasis on the celebration and honoring of their kinfolk both living and dead. Think about it: you live in a place where you celebrate your elders and your ancestors, and then you’re ripped from your homeland and sold across the sea. You have nothing at all—except your heritage. Why wouldn’t you keep it alive, passing the customs and traditions and legacy on down for generation upon generation?
The family unit—both immediate and extended—has been the foundation of the African American community for centuries. Although the experience of the institution of slavery served to weaken the family structure in most cases—often by violent means and forced separations— it had the opposite effect collectively; it was the structure of the extended family unit that enabled survival during enslavement, through the post-Civil War era, and into the days of Jim Crow laws. As the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s gained momentum, people spread out more, moving away from the homes where they’d been born and raised, and large family gatherings became less crucial for survival.
In African American Elders, Cultural Traditions, and the Family Reunion, author Renee McCoy explains the ways that African American family reunions in recent decades—often with hundreds of participants joining in from around the world—have become a vehicle for restoring lost connections and revitalizing culture and tradition. At any family reunion, itself a ritual of sorts, elders become indispensable sources of wisdom, guidance, and power; they’re treated with great respect and honor, just like their ancestors. They tell stories, offer advice, and form the foundation for building strong and authentic future generations, preserving their birthright for those yet to come.
As in other places around the world, the people of different African nations and cultures honor their ancestors alongside spirits of land and place in addition to divine figures. It is the ancestors, however, who hold a special place in the spiritual system. For the Yoruba of Nigeria, not just anyone can become a venerated ancestor. To achieve this sort of status, one must have lived a benevolent life, die well-respected, and leave behind children who appropriately honor them in death by way of prayer and offerings. Sometimes, whole generations pass before someone is afforded the standing of honored ancestor.
The Kingdom of Dahomey (within present-day Benin) existed for about three hundred years and ended in the late nineteenth century when the French empire waged war and colonized the country. For the Dahomey people, ancestral rituals tied the kinship of the royal line into the fertility of the earth—crucial for a good crop and good harvest. At annual feasts, human offerings were presented to royal ancestors to bring about abundance in the fields. The ancestral spirits of the king could bestow gifts and favors upon the living if they chose; the best way to win their approval was with sacrifice. An entire ritual structure existed that celebrated the ancestors of the royal family; when a king died, hundreds of prisoners and slaves were ceremonially sacrificed so he could join his ancestors in watching over the people.
Today, people who follow many of the ATR belief systems in the West continue the veneration of their bloodlines. These ancestors maintain a spiritual connection with their living descendants; showing them honor is a way of demonstrating respect to one’s elders. In general, ancestors are seen as benevolent; those who are unhappy might decide to cause inconveniences or minor problems for descendants who have wandered in the wrong direction. To appease disgruntled badass ancestors, make the appropriate offerings and ask what they want from you.
So, Where Did Our Badass Kinfolk Go?
As more and more people came to America whether by force or by choice, they brought their ancestors with them and honored them … until they didn’t. What happened? Simply, we stopped paying attention to ancestral heritage. We got busy: we started focusing on having all the things our neighbors did and worrying about whether we were enough. Even though our ancestors were talking to us, we quit listening.
For many people in the Western world who were raised as Christians, the concept of ancestor worship or veneration is sometimes considered supernatural. Because it goes against scripture, people stopped doing it a few generations back; the notion emerged that ancestor worship was wrong because it goes against biblical warnings about replacing Jesus as the divine mediator between man and God.
Today, we’re starting to see a resurgence of ancestor veneration as part of spiritual practice. As more and more of us embrace Pagan and nature-based belief systems, the idea that ancestor worship is somehow wrong or strange or weird is getting pushed aside. Instead, we’re reclaiming our kinship lines and celebrating our ancestral guides. We’re asking them to step in and help us out with healing, protection, and wealth. In return, we’re honoring them. We’re presenting them with offerings, gifts made in their names, and more.
After all, if we succeed, they have something to be very proud of.