Black Elk as a young man

Black Elk was participating in a religious ceremony when he fell into a trance. As his body sunk to the ground, his spirit was lifted high and transported over a river which many men and women were struggling to cross. He touched ground on the other bank in the land of his ancestors. Two men greeted him and assured him that his father, who had died years before, was happy here, but that it was not yet Black Elk’s time to join him.

Looking around, he saw that the world of his ancestors resembled his own world, the Midwestern plains. Only it was more perfect:

I could see a beautiful land where many, many people were camping in a great circle. I could see that they were happy and had plenty. Everywhere there were drying racks full of meat. The air was clear and beautiful with a living light that was everywhere. All around the circle, feeding on the green, green grass, were fat and happy horses; and animals of all kinds were scattered all over the green hills, and singing hunters were returning with their meat.

The inhabitants appeared to be in the prime of life: “all the people were beautiful and young. There were no old ones there, nor children either–just people of about one age, and beautiful.”
When Black Elk returned to ordinary consciousness, an audience thronged around him, eager to hear of his otherworldly journey. His tribe, like most cultures throughout history, believed in survival of the spirit and looked to those who had experienced altered consciousness to provide them with a map of the unseen world.

Black Elk explained that the practice originated when a young boy of the tribe died and his grieving father sought out the shaman for help. The shaman told the father, “This boy seems to be dead, yet he is not really, for we shall keep his soul among our people, and through this our children and the children of their children will become wakan [holy].”

The shaman then addressed the soul of the child: “Behold O soul! Where you dwell upon this earth will be a sacred place; this center will cause the people to be as wakan as you are. Our grandchildren will now walk the path of life with pure hearts, and with firm step!” And to the parents: “We shall gain great knowledge from this soul which has here been purified. Be good to it and love it, for it is wakan.”

The ritual itself was lengthy and involved a number of steps to be performed by the shaman, the family members, and the rest of the tribe. In an early phase, the shaman purified a lock of hair of the dead person and wrapped it in sacred buckskin. This bundle then was seen as housing the soul and was hung in a special place in the family’s tipi. The keeper of the soul, usually a family member, would take special care of the bundle. He or she would pray to it, “feed” it, and show it many other signs of respect. As the shaman would tell the parents:

You are now keeping the soul of your own son, who is not dead, but is with you. From now on you must live in a sacred manner, for your son will be in this tipi until his soul is released. You should remember that the habits which you establish during this period will remain with you always. You must take great care that no bad person enters the lodge where you keep the soul, and that there be no arguments or dissensions; there should always be harmony in your lodge, for all these things have an influence on the soul which is being purified there.

Your hands are wakan; treat them as such! And your eyes are wakan; when you see your relatives and all things, see them in a sacred manner! … Every day and night your son will be with you; look after his soul all the time, for through this you will always remember Wakan-Tanka [the Great Spirit]. From this day on you will be wakan, and as I have taught you, so you too will now be able to teach others.

During the time that a soul was being kept, the keeper was not supposed to fight or use a knife for any reason. “The people should love and honor this holy man, frequently bringing food and gifts to him, and the keeper of the soul should in turn offer up his pipe very often to Wakan-Tanka for the good of the nation.” In good weather, the bundle was to be hung outside. By bringing it gifts and praying before it, the people of the tribe gained blessings from this soul.

The concluding part of the ritual, the “Releasing of the Soul,” would typically take place a year after the person’s death. Everyone participated in it. After offering gifts to the various powers of earth and sky, the holy keeper spoke to the soul within the bundle:

You, O soul, were with your people, but soon you will leave. Today is your day, and it is wakan. Today your Father, Wakan-Tanka is bending down to see you; all your people have arrived to be with you. All your relatives love you, and have taken good care of you. You and the holy woman of the four ages, who brought to us the sacred pipe, are now together here in this lodge. . . .

The bundle was carried past the threshold of the tipi–leaving the circle of this life–and thus the soul was released. In its purified state, the soul was ready to rejoin the Great Spirit.

The shaman would say to the parents, “You loved your son, and you have kept him at the center of our people’s hoop. As you have been good to this your loved one, so be good to all other people! This sacred influence of your son’s soul will be upon the people; it is as a tree that will always bloom.”

It was through this rite, Black Elk wrote, “that we purify the souls of our dead, and that our love for one another is increased.” Through purification the soul becomes one with Wakan-Tanka and need not wander the earth, he declared, “as is the case with the souls of bad people.” And further, “the keeping of a soul helps us to remember death and also Wakan-Tanka, who is above all dying.”

Through the survivors’ prayers, respect, and peaceful behavior, a mutual benefit would occur. The presence of the bundle continually reminded the family that how they behaved would affect the soul, for good or ill. For a year they focused on the good that this soul was bestowing on them and their tribe; they found inspiration in it to purify themselves and share this goodness with others. Survivors gained consolation in knowing that their loved one’s spirit remained near them and that they were helping to prepare the soul for its journey.

This ritual helped to make real the notion that the death of a loved one can serve life-giving purposes for those who remain behind. No soul ever truly leaves his or her loved ones. He or she remains with them for a time in spirit and, through their mutual love and respect, they create a lasting legacy of goodwill.

The main character in The Pilgrim’s Progress is an ordinary man named Christian, who is seeking the celestial city of heaven. To reach it he must avoid the temptations and fears with which earthly life threatens him. After many trials he, with his companion Hopeful, arrive at the outskirts of heaven, where they encounter a final, unexpected barrier–the River of Death. Two Shining Men inform them that they must pass through this river if they are to enter heaven.
The river, however, is not the same for every pilgrim. As the angel tells them: “you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place.” Hopeful’s crossing is easy, but Christian sinks into the waves.

And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember, nor orderly talk of, any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart-fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. ‘Twas also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits. . . .

His companion, Hopeful, counsels him to take comfort in his faith:

These troubles and distresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you, but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. . . . Be of good cheer. Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.

Christian, who had fallen into a trance, now awakens, shouting, “Oh, I see him again! and he tells me, ‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee’ (Isaiah 43.2).” Christian and Hopeful then emerge on the other bank of the River of Death. The Shining Men, who had been standing by unseen all along, greet them again and conduct them to the gates of heaven, where they are joyfully admitted.

Bearing in mind this version, it’s intriguing to reflect on the similarities of the transition at death and this artistic depiction of drowning. Water has long served as a symbol of unitive consciousness-the blissful “oceanic” feeling of the person who experiences oneness with the universe. And so, water appropriately symbolizes the fundamental shift the mind is said to experience at death. By leaving one’s narrow ego-consciousness, the soul is purified and returns to a more unitive, expanded consciousness–a state in which one easily feels love for everyone else. The soul who easily crosses the river of death may be said to have made a successful transition from earthly orientation to that of the afterdeath realm. By contrast, the soul who struggles or is overwhelmed by the waves is somehow resistant to this transformation.

Bunyan’s allegory unites many of the prominent themes of soul-cleansing as described in various cultures. This stage in the afterlife may be summarized as:

• This phase is not necessarily more frightening than are the tribulations one encounters on earth, but it is the final hurdle to overcome in order to reach heaven.
• One’s state of mind depends on one’s degree of faith (or, in some traditions, on one’s ability to maintain meditative calm, which may amount to the same thing).
• The fearful may panic and temporarily lose their wits, while the calm and hopeful suffer little distress.
• Guilt and fearful apparitions afflict the soul as he or she recalls past transgressions.
  The individual may feel alone, but in fact, helpful spirits are ever ready to give encouragement.
• If one is frightened, the soul may emerge from the ordeal by regaining a measure of self-control (this is a test, as Hopeful tells Christian, of whether a person will bring to mind faith in the goodness and mercy of God. This compares with the assurances in the Tibetan Book of the Dead that the soul will escape its suffering by taking refuge in any of the compassionate beings that appear in the bardo).
• And finally, this painful process results in a stronger individual–Christian is at last “made whole.”

We see this played out in the account of a Siberian Samoyed hunter, who had been mistakenly thought dead by his family. During his journey to the underworld, he told an anthropologist, his spirit flew across an ocean, forests, and mountains. Then, as he said,

Finally I reached a ridge of high hills from which I could see a black river. There were many people in the black river all trying to escape from it. Some of them sank ever deeper into the stream and they tried in vain to work themselves out. Others climbed the smooth mountain slopes until their bloody hands were no longer able to continue and they would fall down again. In the river there was a tremendously high pole which many climbed. Large birds were flying around the pole and terrified the people so that they would lose their grip.

This vision offers of a panoramic view of how differently individuals may react to the afterdeath experience. To some, this same river and mountain slope could be a source of profit and enjoyment, not something to be resisted: “[They] drove back and forth on the river without trying to escape but fished and had a good time on the sandbanks. In the forests above the river, people were hunting and living just like on earth. A few of them were there with their entire families; others waited for their wives and children.”1

In this composite picture of the journey, some people struggle to emerge from the water, some suffer in the climb up the mountain, some live peacefully nearby with their loved ones. All persons may cross the same “terrain,” but for certain individuals it will be arduous and painful, for others easy and rewarding. We each travel a unique path at death, in other words. And we each eventually reach our destination–this too is shown in the myths. Yet it appears that we pass many of the same psychic landmarks on our way.

The accounts often indicate, however, that the water-crossing experience is transformative. Hindus wish their ashes to be scattered in the Ganges River, the “Mother,” as a sign of their return to the God/Goddess . If the hero Gilgamesh, in the Sumerian epic poem, wishes to return alive from his journey to the underworld, he must not to touch the waters when he crosses the Sea of Death. As part of his transformation from Egyptian king to the god of the underworld, Osiris was sealed in a chest and flung into the Nile River by his jealous brother, Seth. Isis, Osiris’ devoted sister-wife, followed the casket to the sea, later restoring him to life.

1 Holger Kalweit, Dreamtime and Inner Space, Boulder, CO: Shambhala, 1988, p. 33.