National Post (National Edition)
Our Lady of Holy Death rattles Catholic Church
Popularity of ‘religion’ growing rapidly
TEPITO, MEXICO CITY • Holding a scythe in one hand and a globe in the other, the Santa Muerte could be easily mistaken for the Grim Reaper.
But to her supporters, this skeletal saint nicknamed “skinny woman” has the power to heal illness, bring prosperity and even help them find love.
Known as the patron saint of violent drug cartels for her relative tolerance, Our Lady of Holy Death is perhaps the fastest-growing religion in the Americas. When Jasmin Marquez was sentenced to life in prison but freed after only a year, she attributed the “miracle” to this smiling skeleton.
Standing reverently before the shrine of the Santa Muerte, Marquez carefully lit a cigarette and let it burn without toking.
“It’s for her,” she explained, in a whisper so as not to disturb the other worshippers.
Marquez, 27, spoke from Tepito, one of Mexico City’s most dangerous neighbourhoods and the principal sanctuary of a cult that now has millions of faithful in its grip.
“From Chile to Canada, Santa Muerte has no rival in terms of the rapidity and scope of its expansion,” said Andrew Chesnut, professor of religious studies at Virginia Commonwealth University and author of Devoted to Death: Santa Muerte, the Skeleton Saint.
“In 2001, when devotion to the folk religion first went public in Mexico, Saint Death was unknown to 99 per cent of Mexicans. In just 15 years Santa Muerte has attracted an estimated 10 to 12 million devotees, primarily in Mexico, Central America, and the U.S.”
He added the religion now also has followers across the globe, “including in the UK, Australia”.
Worship of the Santa Muerte was initially clandestine, the prayers and rites quietly uttered at altars fashioned by believers in their homes.
More forgiving than the Catholic Church — she is said not to punish traditional sins — she grew popular in Mexico’s prisons. Inmates enscribe her on cell walls. Some hold on to small pieces of paper bearing her drawing when they sleep.
Counter-narcotics teams have often found shrines in raids on drug lords’ safe houses. Marquez, who was coy about the reasons for her criminal conviction, bears a tattoo of the saint on her arm.
Around the turn of the 21st century, the Santa Muerte burst into the mainstream. One of the people credited with this change is Enriqueta Romero, a charismatic follower often referred to as the religion’s “high priestess.” Romero bears little relation to a priestess in the traditional sense. Having grown up in Tepito, she speaks in colourful slang, peppered with expletives. Her hair is dyed black, but for a shock of white across the top. She wears white high heels, and grins with the flash of a golden tooth.
Now in her 70s, she grew up with the deity in her home and said she simply decided one day to place her outside for all to see.
“I believed she shouldn’t stay hidden any more,” she said.
“I love the death, her physique. She shouldn’t be feared. She is not vengeful, she will not hasten your death. She is part of life and she protects those no one else will.”
Historians say the folk religion has its roots in Mexico’s ancient Aztec culture. But its modern iteration incorporates many of the rituals of the Catholic Church. Romero believes the two religions are symbiotic — on the front of the shelter that houses the Santa Muerte hangs a statue of Jesus on the cross. They are, she says, both ways of worshipping the same God.
Devotees mix traditional religious offerings with their own belief of what the skeleton might enjoy. The altar at her bony feet has both gently flickering votive candles and Lambrusco wine. Instead of incense, one man lit a marijuana joint.
These actions have only further incensed the Catholic Church, which already viewed the folk religion as a blasphemous threat to its standing in Mexico. Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi, the Vatican’s Pontifical Council for Culture, has declared the faith the “degeneration of religion.”
“It’s not religion just because it’s dressed up like religion; it’s a blasphemy against religion,” he said.
The Mexican government briefly tried to suppress the cult, with the army demolishing 40 roadside shrines close to the U.S. border in 2009.
But the efforts failed, and by 2013 the Santa Muerte had come to rival the Virgin of Guadalupe, the country’s “national patroness” in popularity.
Away from the centre of Mexico City, not everyone sees the religion this way. Maria, 43, a taxi driver who chose not to give her surname, spoke in fear of the deity. She, too, worshipped her once, she said. But she felt too controlled by her and so she decided to stop. In the following year, her brother, son-in-law and an uncle all died, one in a car crash and two from illnesses.
“Be careful,” she said. “Research her by all means, but don’t join her. Because once you do she won’t let you leave.”
IT’S NOT RELIGION JUST BECAUSE IT’S DRESSED UP LIKE RELIGION.