The lessons of cemeteries

By Lori Erickson
Posted May 24, 2012

[Episcopal News Service] While the church honors its dead on All Saints Day in November, the national holiday of Memorial Day also has deep resonance for many of us. The observance began as a way to pay tribute to those who had died in wars, but over the years it has expanded to become a time when we remember all those who have died. On this day we visit cemeteries to lay flowers on the graves of those we have loved, walking amid the neatly tended rows to search out the markers with familiar names.

Cemeteries seem to be places that one either loves or hates. I know many people who find them morbid and others for whom there’s no more pleasant place for an evening stroll. But I think cemeteries aren’t just lovely places to walk: they’re also classrooms for the soul.

The most obvious lesson, of course, is that none of us are going to get out of this world alive. As we walk among the monuments we realize that worms and humus will be our eventual fate as well. There’s good reason why Buddhist teachers recommend meditating in a graveyard, for there’s no better place to ponder the transitory nature of existence.

Graveyards also provide lessons in what is most important in life. At the end of people’s lives, identities get stripped down to their most fundamental roles: father, mother, daughter, son. The writing on the stones has a Zen-like simplicity. I’ve never seen a headstone that said that the deceased was assistant vice president for human resources or the youngest person to get tenure in her department.

While honoring my own loved ones is important to me, in my travels I’ve found that cemeteries are often profoundly moving places. I remember the white markers that fill the American Cemetery in Normandy, which is located on a hillside above the beach where thousands of men lost their lives on D-Day. I recall paying my respects at Thomas Merton’s grave at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky and standing in silence before the eternal flame that burns at the burial site of Martin Luther King, Jr., in Atlanta.

Henry David Thoreau's grave in Concord, Massachusetts, is filled with pens, pencils and other tokens left by visitors. PHOTO/Lori Erickson

One of my favorite graveyards is Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, Massachusetts, where a number of America’s preeminent authors are buried, including Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Louisa May Alcott. Henry David Thoreau’s grave marker is the simplest of them all, a small stone bearing the name “Henry.” When I visited, the unassuming monument was surrounded by pencils, pens, and scraps of paper on which people had written their favorite passages from his work. One hundred and fifty years after Thoreau’s death, his words still draw people to this peaceful spot beneath tall trees.

Experiences like these make me wonder about the increasingly common practice of having one’s ashes scattered to the wind after death. In a culture in which so many are rootless during life, it makes sense that they would have no permanent marker in death. But my time in cemeteries has convinced me that we need a specific place to honor our dead, for there is much to be learned at someone’s final resting place.

Those lessons don’t have to be grim and depressing, as those who celebrate the Day of the Dead in Mexico know. On November 1 and 2, families gather at the graves of loved ones, bringing the deceased’s favorite foods and drinks as well as candles, decorations, and candy. The belief is that the souls of the dead come back for a few hours during this time to join with the living in celebrating.

Such celebrations recognize that the intertwining of life and death is our human condition. When we leave the gates of a cemetery, death walks with us as we re-enter our ordinary lives, whispering in our ears the eternal truth that life cannot be fully lived unless we know that it will someday end. That’s the paradox that a cemetery can teach us as we lay our flowers on graves this Memorial Day.

— Lori Erickson writes about inner and outer journeys at She serves as a deacon at Trinity Episcopal Church in Iowa City, Iowa.

Statements and opinions expressed in the articles and communications herein, are those of the author(s) and not necessarily those of Episcopal News Service or the Episcopal Church.

Comments (5)

  1. Sanford Z. K. Hampton says:

    In the midst of the Memorial Day observance let us not forget that Sunday is PENTECOST

  2. Ronald Remmers says:

    You may want to do some more research on the origins of Memorial Day. It was started by the Veterans of the Civil War to Honor the dead and wounded of both sides. The first celebrations were “segregated” in that the Union veterans and the Confederate veterans did not mix but held separate celebrations on the same day. As the years wore on and the bitterness faded, the two groups began to hold a single celebration to honor all the veterans of the Civil War.

    Veterans Day was established to honor those who served in World War One. That is why November 11th was selected. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month to mark the end of the fighting. With the ending of World War Two, a single celebration to honor all veterans was thought to be more practical and Memorial day was expanded to honor all service veterans. Over the years it has also expanded to honor those who serve to protect the public.

  3. Kathleen Kuczynski says:

    Through many experiences with family deaths, I have come to value a place to mourn and remember. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a cremation or a conventional burial. I prefer columbaria to scattering, because they give one places to “visit” the deceased. My sister-in-law was cremated and her ashes were buried on a hill in a site that was significant to her and her husband, but not easily accessible. I don’t think my mother-in-law ever fully accepted the death of her daughter, and I think having a place to go would have made it more real to her.

  4. Susan Bailey says:

    Lori, I should have known it was you before seeing your name – you have a very distinctive voice that resonates. I love this post! Death is so effective in revealing the honest truth. It has the ability to remove masks and allows or even forces people to be vulnerable. As a musician at my church, I’ve often with other musicians there about which times we prefer to play, at weddings or funerals, and funerals always win! We feel here our music can make a difference.

    I’ve visited Sleepy Hollow several times and also find Henry’s stone to be very moving. The day I saw it, there were two acorns placed on top of the stone. It was so lovely.

    Every Mother’s Day I visit Mount Auburn Cemetery for the annual spring bird migration. My parents always used to go and we’d go with them; now my sister, son and I go to honor them. Mount Auburn has so many moving tributes to people, both the famous and the not.

    Thank you for this lovely reflection for Memorial Day.

  5. Thomas Andrew says:

    I wish we would return Memorial Day to the honor of those who have given their lives for this greatest of nations and to them alone. To clutter the day (as my local newspaper does) with remembrances of Aunt Sally, who baked such wonderful cookies, or Uncle Joe, who could tell a good joke, is inappropriate and disrespectful towards those men and women who have sacrificed their time, their bodies and their lives so that we can enjoy the freedoms given to us by God. No doubt we miss all of our loved ones but we have 364 other days to devote to their memory. Obviously as Christians we have All Saints, All Souls and the anniversary of their entry into the Kingdom. Let’s leave Memorial Day to the memory of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

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