Posted by: Jed | December 9, 2008

Ritual for the Dead

I was hanging out with Rinpoche on the library porch when the call came. He looked mildly surprised, hung up, and said, “Somebody died! I must go do po-wa.”

Phowa

Rinpoche and attendant monks preparing offerings and prayers in the home of the deceased

I tried not to sound too eager when I asked if I could come along.

“Yes, you must see this,” he said.

In the Tibetan tradition, a recently deceased being spends up to 49 days in the “bardo,” a state very roughly akin to purgatory. One of the main differences is that the end of the tunnel for the vast majority of beings is reincarnation.

Time in the bardo is generally a harrowing experience — with lots of terrifying and confusing images — so having a high lama on hand to guide you is a very good thing indeed. He and the attendant monks create effigies to ransom demons away from preying on your soul, guide you step-by-step through this between-life, and scold your family when they cry so as not to increase your suffering.

Relaying consecrated Tibetan letters of the alphabet to be placed on the dead body, which is on the ground behind the tarp

Relaying consecrated letters of the Tibetan alphabet to be placed on the dead body, which is on the ground behind the tarp

One hour of this service costs 700 rupees ($14) — a considerable amount by Indian standards — so most families cannot afford more than a couple of hours. Rich families may pay to have a lama on hand throughout the entire bardo period.

After offerings are made and the body washed and purified with blessed water, the corpse is covered with small round pieces of paper, on which have been written letters from the Tibetan language. Each one represents a deity and, upon being placed on the various defiled parts of the body, complete the purification process.

Gathering soil to cover the body with after it goes in the box (not a coffin -- more like a trunk)

Gathering soil to cover the body with after it goes in the box (not a coffin -- more like a trunk)

The corpse is then covered with soil, partially wrapped in cloth, put into a box, and carried inside for last rites. The box remains by the family house for three days and is then burned as an offering to the fire deities, who are actually just symbolic embodiments of wisdom.

An astrologer (one of my teachers) then assesses the situation. It turns out that this man died 10 years earlier than he was supposed to and will be reborn either as a rich boy in “the East” or as a beggar. What will decide his fate? The decision is the family’s to make. If they build two excellent statues of two prominent Bön deities within 49 days, the former scenario will come to fruition. If they do not, the latter.

As one geshé said, “It’s a lot of work when someone dies!”

This is just barely scratching the surface of this fascinating ritual and cultural phenomenon. Post a comment or email me if you want to hear more.


Responses

  1. Fascinating! Regarding the astrologer’s interpretation, if your next life is supposed to reflect how you lived your past one, then how could it be up to his family to determine his fate? Doesn’t that seem unfair? LMB!

  2. Of course we want more details re. death and wedding……..morbid curiosity and vicarious pleasure respectively.
    Liked your tango music better.

  3. Good question, pnut. I actually had a long debate with Geshé Sonam about this very issue. And asked Rinpoche about it. I’m still not totally satisfied, but here are the answers:

    The first is that your karma and your family’s karma are tied together. When you get married and accumulate wealth together, this wealth is imbued with the potential to harm or help either or both of you. So using it for good, auspicious purposes will benefit the transmigrating being who helped accumulate the wealth.

    The other answer is that astrology has its own logic that we can’t always understand. Perhaps the extra 10 years the man was supposed to live would have seen him doing meritorious things. Or the statues will actually somehow generate good karma for others who see them, which eventually circles back to the transmigrating being — a tourist sees the statues and likes them and buys a similar one in “the east,” which allows that merchant’s family to have a child that they couldn’t otherwise have afforded, and the transmigrating being sees the opportunity to be born into this family in the bardo and takes it.

    The shorter answer is: Karma works in mysterious ways!


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