Every culture has ceremonies to mark milestones in the lives of its people. Ceremonies aren’t parties, exactly, although they are often held in conjunction with a party or celebration of some sort.
In our culture, spring seems to be the season for ceremonies. We mark the end of our student’s school days with graduation and, in some communities, baccalaureate. The Commencement ceremony is a recognition of moving into adulthood, or in the case of non-traditional students, a change in life journey. Baccalaureate is the spiritual component of this milestone.
Bar Mitzvah, and other traditions that note the passage of childhood into youth, involve ceremonies. Weddings are an indication of commitment on the part of two people to begin a family unit, and baptisms are a welcome into the church family. Funerals are the official farewell ceremony.
One of the ways we celebrate after a ceremony is with food. Guests are made welcome and thanked for being part of the honoree’s life. This aspect has changed a lot in my lifetime. My high school graduation didn’t involve a party or reception, although we graduates were expected to form a receiving line and shake the hand of people who attended. Some rumor circulated among classmates about staying out all night, but it didn’t materialize when parents heard the scuttlebutt. I think we kids were relieved. There was absolutely nothing to do in Thedford, Nebraska, in 1956, after nine o’clock. I think we had a bonfire in the park, roasted some hot dogs and marshmallows, and wandered on home.
Back then, weddings involved another receiving line and there was coffee, cake and punch for the guests. I don’t recall any food after funerals, just folks standing around in the cemetery visiting for a bit. I agree with my neighbor who wonders what ever happened to just cookies and punch.
By the time my kids graduated, some families invited close friends in for coffee after Commencement and there were plenty of graduates who made a party of their own, despite rules and parental cautions.
Of late, all of the above ceremonies seem to require a party with decorations, hearty food, and, depending on the event, plenty of mind-altering substances. I’m not sure how we got here from there, and wonder if some of that isn’t a matter of keeping up with the Joneses.
In ranch country, at this time of year, branding is the ceremony that gets scheduled around all the other hoopla. The calves are guests of honor. They endure a certain routine and make a lot of noise that’s not very joyful. The workers enjoy the reception—a hearty meal, something to wet the whistle, and good fellowship. They linger long to chat and reminisce, but the cattle skedaddle quickly, kind of like I did at my high school graduation and both weddings.
Meet me here next week and meanwhile do your best. Somebody might like it.