Chapter XXXI: Section 4: Funeral

The funerals, as one would naturally suppose, are more ceremonious, more ritualistic, and although there is now generally a minimum of festivity connected with them, this has not always been so. [178] When the condition of a sick person is beyond hope, the priest is notified and the person is given confession, communion, and extreme unction. After death the eyes and mouth are closed, the body washed and dressed up in the newest and cleanest clothes to be had, and the arms crossed on the breast. [179] Two candles are kept burning until the day of the funeral, one at the foot and one at the head of the coffin. Sad, wooden bells are sounded, and guests are invited to pay their last respects. Coffee is served to them, but without sugar, as a sign of grief. Mourning women are secured, who eulogize the departed and weep and lament until the priests begin their chanting. The corpse is now taken to the church in a special coffin which is covered with a black velvet cloth adorned with small white crosses, among the wealthy, but among the poor the body is wrapped in linen and laid in a simple bier, carried by relatives and friends. At the head of the procession, which marches very slowly and chants on the way, there are carried a great cross and two lighted torches, followed by the priests and then by the coffin. The passer-by must stop and cross himself many times. At the church the coffin is laid down, and if the relatives are wealthy each person in the church is provided with a small wax candle which is kept lighted during the service. While the ceremony proceeds the body is blessed with holy water and perfumed with incense, after which the procession re-forms to accompany the body to the cemetery. The chanting is kept up all the way. At the cemetery the body is lowered into its last resting-place, and the priest, after making the sign of the cross on the four corners of the grave, throws three shovelfuls of earth into it and three more on the coffin. The people imitate by throwing three handfuls of dust, and the ceremony completed, all return to the home of the deceased where they partake of steaming broth prepared by the neighbors and friends, and recite prayers for the soul of the dead. This latter practice, as said before, is a pagan survival, as is also the chanting of mass for the departed, which occurs three days later, at which time broth is again distributed, but this time to the poor as a sacrifice to the dead. The grave is blessed on the third day, again on the ninth, at the close of the third month, and for the last time, at the close of the year.

The funeral of a priest is performed with much splendor. [180] The procession makes a circuit of all the churches, and stopping at different places, portions of the gospel are read. If the priest be of high rank, as an archbishop, or a bishop, he is carried in an open coffin and in a sitting posture, dressed up in official vestments, in which position he is interred in the courtyard of the church. Farmers send sheep to be killed and given to the poor as a sacrifice. The Greeks in Constantinople also carry their dead in an open coffin, but this is because a Greek official who was a refugee prisoner in Constantinople at the time of the war of the Turks with the Greeks, endeavored to get himself carried out of the country by feigning death and boxing himself up in a coffin. But the Turks discovered the ruse and it was enacted by the sultan that thereafter all Greeks must be carried to their graves in open coffins. The custom in respect to the Armenian bishops, however, has no connection with this.

In some parts of Armenia, as for example in Erzerum, the snow lies so deep in winter-time that burial is well-nigh impossible. During spring-time, with the melting of the snow, coffins have been found perched up on tree tops. This was related by an Armenian boy I know of, who lived in the vicinity of Erzerum. Curious customs of the past have left their marks. In Tarsus, for example, there are Armenian graves ranged about a tree which is asserted to have been planted by St. Paul, each provided with a stone upon which has been carved a symbol of the deceased, for the merchant, a representation of weights and measures, for the blacksmith, an anvil and hammer, for the scribe, an inkstand and pen, and for the industrious housewife, a distaff and spindle. In the cemetery of Nakhitchevan is a large building in which the mourners have a great repast after the funeral, and in certain other graveyards, Dubois found innumerable pieces of broken pitchers and crockery, which were probably broken, as the custom is, to ward off the evil spirit of the dead.

These four ceremonies complete the third and last group of festivals described. I have called them ceremonies because fundamentally that is what they are, but they are to be distinguished sharply from the many church ceremonies I have not so much as mentioned, by reason of their festival or social value which alone makes them proper subject-matter for this thesis. The relation between these ceremonies as revealed in the common procession, as well as in the religious ceremony necessary to each is due largely to the fact that they have to do with the most ordinary, and yet most extraordinary of life's events, birth, betrothal, marriage, and death.

Reviewing them from the standpoint of their social or festival value, it is obvious that the marriage celebration easily takes first place, the betrothal festivities second, baptism and funeral third. There is the rather uncouth, perhaps, but none the less spontaneous gaiety of the friends of the bridegroom, not only on the eve of the wedding-day when they go to the bath, but also on the morning of the wedding-day when the unfortunate youth is assuredly cured of any addiction he might have to the use of perfumes. I should imagine that the music would begin to bore the young men by the time the barber arrives, since the musicians also accompany the rejoicing of the night before, and yet it may be said that there could be nothing more convenient or ingenious devised to carry over a lull in the merry-making, for after all, the young men could not well be singing, joking, laughing, and teasing all the time. In striking contrast is the melancholy rejoicing of the party of young women at the home of the bride. But where there is dancing and singing there can not well be weeping, although no doubt it is more natural for the bride to be thoughtful on her wedding-day, than for the bridegroom, for it is the former who leaves her home to spend the rest of her days in a very new, very strange, perhaps even unkindly world. There is still another reason for the melancholy, in that the girl must know she is bidding farewell forever to the delights and joys and freedom of childhood, for although to-day she may speak and sing and make merry, to-morrow morning she must be silent and prepared to pour water over the hands of her father- and mother-in-law. Henceforth it is for her to be submissive, obedient, docile, uncomplaining even at heart, for what use will it be to complain, and though her most cherished dreams may be of motherhood, does she not also have spirit, and why must it be broken? Is she then only a chattel to be sold into everlasting bondage? It is all too evident, even to the dullest of brides, that the happiness of childhood is forever past, and the brighter one can hardly fail to feel that she has been bartered for the bit of gold about her waist or neck.

There is then the very highest of social value to be attributed to both of these festivities, and largely because in each group of people, the young men on one side, the young women on the other, there is perfect community of feeling, mutual understanding, and freedom of thought and expression. In comparison with these gatherings, the mixed assembly at the house of the bridegroom after the marriage ceremony is of little importance. The succession of events covering a period of nearly thirty-six hours, of which only a few, and perhaps none at all, are spent in sleep by the members of the bridal party, must certainly begin to have its effect by the time the little baby doll is placed in the lap of the bride.

The betrothal party is always out for a good time, for they realize that the merry-making is to be an all-night affair. There is the procession with its candles lighting up the darkened streets, the music and singing filling all space, the humorous little artificialities in the house of the bride,--real enough, at least ceremoniously, from the standpoint of the family,--the syrup, the attempted stealing of utensils, the return procession, the singing, music, and dancing at the home of the young bridegroom-to-be, without stop until dawn. All of this makes a rather complete occasion, even for young people.

Baptism and funeral rites come nearest being pure ceremonies. But even the baptismal rite has its procession to and from the church participated in by all the friends and relatives of the family, and though the event is an occasion neither for rejoicing nor for sorrow, it is important enough, occurring as it does but once in the lifetime of each individual. There are, to be sure, the social calls that follow the ceremony. But the event can not be said to have any attraction for the young; and if this is true of baptism, it is still more true of funerals. Nevertheless there is the distinct psychological value of each, calling up as they do various associations, as the baptism of this one, or the death of another one, and thus keeping alive the deepest experiences of life. If they are crude and offensive to more delicate tastes, it must be remembered that a belief is represented in the concrete fashion essential to the simple mind, a mode of representation necessary to the best of intellects even though on another plane.