Sweet spirits do surround us now

Readers familiar with my usual jocular and even profane tone may be surprised that every morning I go to a prayer service at a neighborhood Episcopal church where we do what may be the only daily sung service of morning prayer outside a monastery in this country. (Even at cathedrals and other prominent churches, such as Trinity Church in New York, the Morning Prayer service is spoken, not sung.)

At this time of year the mood is elegaic, as we not only celebrate All Saints Day (Nov. 1) but also All Souls Day or Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, which in San Francisco is celebrated not only because of the large Mexican-American presence in the Mission District but also because of the twenty-year old AIDS epidemic -- not to mention the continuing street violence in the Mission and other neighborhoods.

This morning we spoke the names of our dead and sang a Shaker hymn:

Sweet spirits do surround us now,
I feel them gathering near,
I can perceive them lowly bow
And hear their heavenly cheer.

Tonight in the Mission, the Mission Cultural Center sponsors the annual parade through the neighborhood. Despite the annoying presence of post-hippie drummers and college girls of dubious provenance who draw on mustaches and speak Spanish in bad California accents, the nighttime procession is beautiful and touching.

Here's a moving essay by Sara, the organizer of the morning prayer service, a piece that captures this day's embrace of life amidst death.

Day of the Dead, Dia de los Muertos, Sara Miles, morning prayer