
"a budding consciousness of our connectedness to all things begins to take root in our mind and imagination..."
'St. Stephen With a Rose': Ritaul, Rapture, and the Grateful Dead Experience
Delivered at UUP by Mary Goodenough on June 1, 2008
I had the great good fortune ... to be invited ...to a Grateful Dead concert. So I go into this building with 8000 people in it and they are all standing for five hours in a rapture. (I had suspected there might be something interesting to observe because of the name Grateful Dead -- that is a phrase that comes from the Egyptian Book of the Dead and it refers to those dead, which is what we are, when we are unawakened, and have gone through the lamenting of the underworld, and agonies and pain of being and non-being and have come to the throne of Osiris, the lord of immortality with whom we are one by the waters of eternal life.) Thank you for having me -- I am truly honored and astonished, in fact, to be here speaking today. You see, I had a strict Christian upbringing and as the eldest daughter of a minister in a town where everyone belonged to the same church I couldn’t get away from pulpit fast enough. Well now, here I am in the pulpit. ("You know it’s gonna get stranger, so let’s get on with the show.") So, I am truly amazed. But as you may have guessed, it’s been a long, strange trip that brought me here and I want to share some of that with you in attempts to convey how it is that the Grateful Dead brought so much joy to so many people for so long. I also want to say what an extraordinary congregation I’ve found here at UUP -- never in my childhood of doctrine and dogma could I have imagined that there existed a group of spiritual seekers so genuinely interested in, and open to all the paths and so many roads that there are. We’ve already heard that wonderful description Joseph Campbell gave of his observations and feelings at a Grateful Dead concert. It was also our great good fortune that he had the opportunity to experience a Grateful Dead concert, because as a world-renowned mythologist, he was able to concisely articulate how ritual, religion, mythology and the arts are interrelated, how these things relate to the Grateful Dead. It is his perspective as given in the lecture "Ritual and Rapture: From Dionysus to the Grateful Dead" that I set forth here. He gave this lecture in San Francisco in 1986 -- more than 20 years ago -- and thanks to Deadhead tapers who recorded everything where any band member was present, (Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir and Mickey Hart were all on the discussion panel following this lecture), we have audio recordings of this event that the Joseph Campbell Foundation until recently didn’t even know existed. I have listened to this lecture many times, and there’s an urgency in Campbell’s voice, that compels me to share his message to all who have ears to hear (and want to hear). So thank you for being here. Campbell begins by describing the function of art: "... when we think of art in its original function in the early societies, it is a form of ritual and religious experience and is not to attach us to the accidental [or superficial] aspects of life and being, but to [attach us to] the great power that moves through all things and unites all things. This is the power that in India is associated with the sound of the syllable ohm, which is the sound of the energy of life--the first energy that descends, as it were, from on high into the world and brings forth then the forms of all things -- and to hear that ohm resounding through the universe and within yourself lets you know that you and the universe are one, and you and that other human being, or animal, or tree, or mountain, are one."What strikes me most profoundly here is the notion that we are all one. (This idea also finds form in the Grateful Dead lyric, "It all rolls into one," from "Stella Blue," that was the first live piece of music we heard this morning. ) Thanks also to Bob Marley’s refrain, "one love, one heart" this oneness of all things is something that more and more people are coming to understand (the animals, plants and earth all know this too), but it’s one thing to KNOW it, on an intellectual level, and it’s an entirely different thing to FEEL it, in you heart, in your gut, in your soul. And as Campbell affirms, this is what the rituals of the nature religions used to convey and what the function of art is now. This is also what Grateful Dead concerts were: they were rituals that brought about the experience of oneness with all things -- the unifying religious experience that was also central to the existence and perpetuation of societies in ancient times. At first glance, you may wonder how could this be? Weren’t the Grateful Dead a rock-n-roll band from the ‘60’s, and weren’t their followers, infamously known as Deadheads, a bunch of drug-addled ragamuffin hippies? Weren’t they just worshipping Jerry -- talk about graven images!?!?? Well, actually no, they weren’t. While of course Jerry Garcia was in fact a charismatic leader (though he characteristically, and vehemently denied any leadership role), what those Deadheads had discovered at Grateful Dead concerts was the rapture Joseph Campbell describes, and their devotion to this experience manifested in their passion for the music of the Grateful Dead. The music itself coupled with the physical experience of being at a concert unified one’s internal and external being in a way that was not only suddenly and broadly accessible because of amplified music, but simply not available anywhere else in western society -- at least on such a broad scale. Interpreting the musical performances of modern society in terms of their ritual content is not new. In his essay "Performance as Ritual," musicologist Christopher Small states: "Whatever form of music or listening we care to engage in, we may be sure that we are taking part in some way in a ritual which affirms the values we ourselves hold." Campbell uses the tragedies of ancient Greece as exemplary models of this kind of ritual performance that brings about the catharsis of mind, senses and heart. This purification was brought about as the tragedies took one’s mind away from the superficial aspects of life and put it in touch with the spiritual causes, the dynamism that moves and unites all things -- the circle and cycle of life and death. We see these themes repeated throughout the Greek tragedies, as we see them again and again in lyrical images of the Grateful Dead. And this is where the catharsis begins to take place. As one encounters these powerful symbols through lyrical representation, a budding consciousness of our connectedness to all things begins to take root in our mind and imagination. (There are so many deeply moving and profound lyrics, I hardly know where to begin, but I had to start somewhere, so I chose Saint Stephen both because I love the song and because the images set forth in the first stanza are so laden with religious connotation that I thought it appropriate in this setting.) Let’s look at them: Saint Stephen with a roseFirst we have Saint Stephen. Although Robert Hunter, the lyricist/poet who wrote these lines, denies that this Stephen is any particular Stephen, anyone like me, with a traditional Christian background, is immediately thrown into the realm of religious contemplation by the reference to Saint Stephen, an early Christian deacon who was in fact a Hellenist -- that is, a Greek-speaking Jew, who was stoned to death for preaching that Israel was becoming increasingly removed from the word of God. Indeed, "wherever he goes the people all complain." In his wonderful lecture, Joseph Campbell specifically cites the monotheism of Christianity as running contrary to the nature religions and opposing the mythology of ancient Greece because in the Judeo-Christian tradition the laws are handed down from supernatural sources from above, rather than arising from the natural forces that are in accord with earth and the natural order therein. So there’s Saint Stephen with a rose. So much comes to mind when we think of a rose. One of Mother Nature’s sweetest smelling flowers (we have tried to surround you with some of that beautiful nature today) -- the rose symbolizes both the beauty and the transience of life on the physical plane. And it is also easy to get caught on its thorns. Indeed, life is at times complicated, thorny, and painful. How quickly a rosebud bursts into bloom and then falls into decay -- to make way for the new buds and the whole cycle begins again, the cycle of life and death -- beautifully represented by the image of a rose. The skeleton and roses are central images in Grateful Dead iconography for this reason as well -- they are reminders of life’s sweet transience. These images are meaningful to us because they reflect the way life really is: there is a dynamism and life force that runs through and continually renews all things, but our time here on earth is short and sweet. This bittersweetness is what makes us go, ah (or ohm), it resonates in our heart because we know it is true. "Country garland in the wind and the rain," gives us images from nature we can not only see, but feel and hear." Who has not stood out in the cold rain and snow, wishing for a hat and a warmer pair of socks? And Saint Stephen is going "in and out of the garden." The garden is another image that strikes me immediately with religious overtones. Especially coupled with the reference to Saint Stephen, the first garden that comes to mind is the biblical garden of Eden -- the archetypal garden -- paradise. Paradise waits... in the Garden of Eden. The garden is bliss, the garden is sacred. The garden is the place whence we emerge and to which we return. Here again we see one’s relationship with nature as a central matter of importance. According to Joseph Campbell, the Garden of Eden represents the psychological state of undifferentiated oneness -- where the gods and humanity are one, man and woman are one, good and evil exist without distinction or duality. The garden is a sacred place of cosmic oneness. (This is also reminiscent of the description of the Grateful Dead Zone read earlier.) On a more immediate level, the garden is where I like to spend as much time as possible -- especially in the spring and summer. When I’m getting irritated and anxious about life’s thorny complications, getting into the garden invariably reminds me of life’s cyclic nature and I am grateful to have even a moment to sink my hands into the earth. Saint Stephen’s going in and out of the garden reminds us that living as we do, in a noisy and complex technological age, it is not only possible, but necessary to continually shift, move, and navigate between the profane world out of the garden and the sacred world in the garden. But I do not mean here to completely externalize the sacred and profane aspects of life as represented by the phrase "in and out of the garden." It seems to me that this phrase also refers to our own state of spiritual awareness. In fact, another oft-repeated Grateful Dead lyric, "once in a while you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right" suggests that being in the garden has more to do with one’s internal state than any kind of physical surroundings. Clearly, "in and out of the garden" refers both to the natural world around us and the inner landscape etched on our souls. In the fourth stanza again we find images of nature: Ladyfinger dipped in moonlightThe balance in nature are here evoked with references to "moonlight" and "sunlight," "morning sky" and "darkness." Nature is also fully animated as "sunlight splatters dawn with answers" and "darkness shrugs and bids the day good-bye." Nature is a living breathing entity that has its cycles of ebb and flow -- just as we humans have our periods of famish and flourish. This sentiment is succinctly expressed in the lines: "talk about your plenty, talk about your ills/ one man gather what another man spills." Now this "one man gathers what another man spills" line is imbued with literal and figurative significance, not only for Deadheads but for all of us. In an age where society regards almost everything as disposable, doesn’t it make sense that in order to survive we must learn how to use and reuse what others have thrown away? (It’s also a lyric Deadhead love to recite when picking up a ground score. I remember the first time I couldn’t find my sweatshirt after a Grateful Dead show. "I guess someone needed it more than you," my friend said. I shrugged. I guess so. I had another, as well as a warm ride home. And I eventually did get my sweatshirt back, as a friend of a friend of a friend realized what had happened and took the time to get it back to me. Many such stories circulate throughout Deadhead lore.) I could go on all day about images of nature in Grateful Dead lyrics but because of the brevity of our time here today I will just take a moment to point out that there are many rich images of nature in the lyrics printed on the sheets included in the order of service. ("Ripple," "Uncle John’s Band," "Let it Grow," "Box of Rain") I also want to mention that many Grateful Dead lyrics literally become mantra to Deadheads. There are many of these verses we repeat to ourselves again and again in a variety of circumstances. When my 18-year old brother, Danny, died in a climbing accident in Wyoming, lyrics from the song "Cassidy" sustained me when nothing else could: Faring thee well nowUnable to take in the shock, or even to cry, I listened to "Cassidy" on my walkman non-stop for hours. "Let your life proceed by its own design." It was as though I could only bring myself to accept this by listening to these words sung again and again. By daylight, the tears began to flow as I listened to Jerry’s soulful crooning in "Brokedown Palace": Fare you well, fare you wellAt the first Grateful Dead concert I attended after my brother’s death in the summer of ’89, they played the old standard Death Don’t Have No Mercy, for the first time after having laid it to rest for many years and it seemed as if they’d played it just for me. Deadheads frequently tell stories of how the synchronicity of a particular song’s performance and the circumstances of their lives played a pivotal role in choices made at the time. This synchronicity illustrates the common Deadhead belief that there is a connection between conscious and unconscious worlds -- between that which is seen and that which is unseen, or hidden behind the veils of illusion. The interplay and relationship of humans with the natural world is a common theme in Grateful Dead culture, evidenced both in Grateful Dead lyrics and in the "enspirited landscape" through which Deadheads traveled from show to show while on tour with the Dead. In fact, the traveling together, the journey, being on the road -- that is, the physical movement and repetition involved with going on tour also played a central role in creating the ritual of a Grateful Dead concert. Historian of religions Jonathan Z. Smith suggests that things, places, persons or times are made sacred by ritual activity. He proposes that we look at ritual as a way of focusing or directing energy in a highly marked way. It is this quality of ritually focused attention that, in his view, makes something sacred. So for many at Grateful Dead performances, a catharsis of the senses was also brought about by the dance and physical movement that the music seemed to awaken within people. An extraordinary feature of Grateful Dead performances was that virtually everyone danced. For some, dance and freedom of movement comprised an even more important part of the ritual than the performance on stage. Speakers were set up in the hallways so that those who needed more space to dance could at least hear, if not see, the music being performed. The energy that emerged from an audience where everyone danced was an incredible phenomenon in and of itself. This movement of energy was what the band responded to most dramatically and what gave the music a life of its own. "The music played the band," a lyric from "The Music Never Stopped" is a common Deadhead phrase to express this concept. To see and feel and be part of a group of several thousand people all moving in harmony with the same music, to the same vibration, that ohm that unites all beings: this is what just bursts the heart open -- and we experience an outpouring of love, a sense of oneness with the universe, and the awakening of the heart that Joseph Campbell at once recognized as a religious experience on par with those of all the great religions of old. Though I love and am passionately moved by the music of the Grateful Dead, I don’t mean to suggest that this is the only way one can experience the rapture that is central to all religious experience. "Though statements just seem vain at last" in contrast to the experience of a live Grateful Dead performance, I merely mean to describe how following the Grateful Dead has been a path of consciousness and spiritual evolvement for myself. Nor do I mean to imply that because the Grateful Dead are no longer performing that this experience of rapture is no longer possible to achieve. On the contrary, I believe the more we look at what great cultural artifacts such as Greek tragedy, Eleusinian Mysteries, tribal initiation rites and Grateful Dead concerts have in common, the more likely it is that we will be able to not only achieve these states of rapture again, but to integrate them into our society in such a way as to preserve both our inner and outer relationships with nature. Biographical note (as delivered by Worship Associate David Dodd): Mary Goodenough began attending UUP in December, and has hardly missed a Sunday since! When I saw her come through the door, I was flabbergasted, having just met her at a symposium on the Grateful Dead at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where we were both speakers. She was born and raised in the Christian tradition, daughter of Swedenborgian priest, educated at Cornell, UC Berkeley and via immersion studies in the Mystery School of the Golden Road to Unlimited Devotion. Mary is a frequent contributor to Grateful Dead Studies at the annual Southwest Popular Culture Conference. |