Cemeteries are a refuge for the living more than for the dead
The old cemetery is hidden away from the bustle of life’s routine concerns.
A sense of tranquillity blanketed its spacious grounds just off U.S. 30 in Schererville, located somewhere between the past and the present, between heaven and earth.
I’ve driven past St. Michael Parish hundreds of times, never once looking past the church building to see its historic cemetery, dating back to 1873. On this unexpectedly holy Saturday, I bicycled past it just slow enough to notice it.
“Are we allowed to visit?” said my fiancee, who spotted it from a back road.
“We’ll be quiet and respectful,” I replied as we parked our bikes.
We were the only souls there. Living souls anyway.
As soon as we entered, a reverential pause button was pushed on our active, sweaty day. Birds sung in the trees as heavy traffic hurried past in the distance. Nature served as the soundtrack as we first explored a towering crucifixion atop a small mound.
Tucked behind the somber image of Jesus nailed to a cross, a brick pathway guided visitors to a Stations of the Cross installation, each one cast in bronze. Alone, under only the gaze of Jesus, I quietly read the storytelling Scripture of each station. I’ve never done this before, not in order, not in its entirety.
I’ve visited a handful of these Stations of the Cross installations through the years at different locations. The most popular one in our area is the Shrine of the Christ’s Passion in St. John, a multimedia “Prayer Trail” with life-size bronze sculptures, soft music, and the godlike narration voice of Chicago broadcaster Bill Kurtis.
The 14 Stations of the Cross at St. Michael Parish cemetery seemed more intimate to me. I paused in silence to read about Jesus’ crucifixion and His eventual ascension from death. The quietness of the experience provided a peaceful feeling, an unscheduled moment of solace in an otherwise noisy day.
For those few minutes, the outside world stopped spinning, or even mattering. I took mental notes and a few photos.
“You don’t have to be Catholic, or a faithful believer, to embrace the cemetery’s calmness. Or to find refuge from the storm of reality just outside its realm,” I later wrote on my social media pages.
I’ve always been absorbed by the inevitability of death, which gives life its meaning and its fleeting importance. It’s been a consistent theme in my work. Death casts a sprawling shadow over the politics of life’s silliness and banality and pettiness.
A cemetery — any cemetery — nails down this same realization every time I visit one, either for personal or professional reasons.
Admittedly, I don’t visit cemeteries often enough to visit my own loved ones. My visits are usually for a column or a site-seeing excursion, like in 2018 when I visited the cemetery of Trinity Church in New York City’s financial district to visit the grave of Alexander Hamilton.
There, I stood in the rain for several minutes with my fiancee and her daughter to soak up the historic experience. Once again, I felt the same realization surrounded by all those entombed bodies, just as I did while walking through a Catholic cemetery in Schererville I never knew existed until that day. It’s a quiet reverence that just overtakes you, regardless who’s buried there.
Prompted by my Easter Sunday column, readers shared with me similar experiences when they visit cemeteries, burial sites or final resting places. My column explored a controversy about the traditional purposes of cemeteries versus their evolving incarnations for the public.
A woman visiting Chapel Lawn Memorial Gardens in Schererville was flabbergasted to find out that an Easter scavenger hunt was being hosted along its roadways. She expected to find the usual solace there. She was met by a worker in bunny ears.
“I’m beyond livid,” the woman told me after leaving the cemetery. I understood her point. However, I saw no harm or disrespect with the cemetery’s efforts to bring a little life to a site of so much death. It seemed even more fitting for the Easter holiday. Many readers agreed.
“My grandparents are there. They would be thrilled with the excitement!” wrote Penny E.
“If we don’t get kids and families comfortable with the thought of visiting a cemetery, who will visit and tend our graves?” wrote Linda S.
“I think these fun activities at cemeteries are great, as long as no one tramples on the graves,” Karen U. wrote. “It helps children see that visiting their loved ones graves can be a pleasant experience so they aren’t apprehensive about going to the cemetery again without any special activity going on.”
Other readers didn’t agree. “This is totally disrespectful to those buried there and also their families and visitors,” said Joni G. of Palos, Illinois. “One of the problems I foresee is that, OK, it’s not a problem for now, but human nature being what it is, what happens when down the road they think a ‘haunted house’ is a good idea at Halloween? Or Irish dancers on St. Pat’s Day? Perhaps conduct tours for kids of the veterans section, and explain to them just why they get special treatment.”
Stacy V. wrote, “I just buried my mother there in November. I’m at a loss for words. I am appalled. I have other family members there as well. As a grieving family member, I’m not pleased.”
“Please, please, please STOP attending these things!” wrote Kara G. “It’s unbelievably disrespectful and leads to vandalism. Ghost hunt anywhere else you want, but stay away from our cemeteries!”
Cemeteries, I was reminded, are more of a refuge for the living than for the dead.