Can you be Christian and Carnival?

I am not the most qualified candidate to write this piece. I am the first to admit this. Somebody “pas han’ on me long time- I have a special Carnival obeah that resurrects with each strum of the bass of a soca tune, which persists throughout and during the Carnival season and which does not even ebb away at the end of the festivities, so rabid am I in my enjoyment of the pageantry. I stand resolutely in the pursuit of fun- fetes, all inclusive, drinking, eating, jamming, playing ah “marse”. My (limited) wining skills are tested to extremity by many a reveller.


My religious grandaunt and her best friend Eileen often warn me of Carnival’s pagan origins- they admonish that it began as a spring festival to the god Dionysus and that my revelry is the ultimate honour to the God Bacchus, hence bacchanalia, so ergo sum: it is not at all possible to be Christian and to partake in Carnival. With a fluid wisecrack retort, I remind her of its decidedly Christian appropriation (like many Catholic rites)- it is the extension of the jubilee of Christ’s birth before we say farewell to flesh and sombrely remember his death, as the Romanesque Italians would say: “carne vale” (farewell meat). The tension of the Church and its response to Carnival was epitomised when I was but a wee lass in Grenada- our church had a Carnival band, we sponsored a calypso tent and one of the priests would play jourvert. However, there is always the belief that even if one attends church, pays tithes, reads the Bible and try to abide by all the Christian edicts, one cannot really be a true Christian if one takes part in Carnival. As Granny says- you can’t serve two masters. My response: you are wrong, I am the master of Carnival, it does not master me. I have only one master and that’s Jah/God/Jehovah.

It is true that Carnival became Christianised only after the church realised that it could not be suppressed. Some say that “carnival" really stems from "carrus navalis": the "naval car" or ship, which carried the Celtic and Germanic Sea-God from his Northern abode to the winter feasts. It is mentioned that the medieval Church reinterpreted this as the Ship of Fools, on which all kinds of sinners sail to their death. Others say some elements derive from the Romans Saturnalia, or Lupercalia- traditional festivals with lots of food and drink, dress-up and parades. The societal order was reversed and rules of behaviour were suspended: higher classes had no authority over lower, masters waited on their slaves, men dressed like women. From the mid 1140s Carnival included a host of fertility rites, agricultural and hunting rituals, and forms of sun, river, or mountain worship. A temporary King was crowned and everyone had to abide by his most ludicrous whims. There are others who ascribe an African element to the Caribbean type Carnival, shrouded it may be under the European cloak of pre Lenten festivities. Commentators like Grisso (www.theafrican.com) argue that our West Indian carnivals have decidedly Yoruba roots like the throwing of talcum powder as a disguise and the dressing in similar colours to constitute a band. Others argue that it is linked to the worship of ancestors- the use of colourful clothes and masks were a way to appease the spirits to return among the living and to accede to prayers.

I must admit that I do not care very much about the initial origins of Carnival very much, as I am very sure I do not worship the ancestors when I parade in the streets. I prefer to live in the now as much as possible. Carnival and mass (masquerade) today have little to do with the traditional European Christian celebrations that evolved from the wealthy and landed plantocracy of the sugar estates. Yes, we have returned somewhat to the past as there are balls in wealthy homes catering to a certain class (ie Lara fetes) but it is now fair to say that it has evolved into a festival of abandon, a kaleidoscope and a riot of colour and glamour. Our vestments are no longer elaborate bulky costumes and masks- we are acolytes of the beads and bikinis. We bear staffs instead of candles and we wait in anticipation for the altar of the “Stage” to strut our stuff. Our celebrants are the King and Queen of the Bands and their sermons are delivered by the vicarage of the kaiso and soca artists- jump and wave, misbehave, get on, wine, jook, palance. Religious leaders often condemn Carnival today as promoting idolatry and immorality and a mere excuse for drunken debauchery. The ones who take themselves ultra seriously quote Jeremiah and Ephesians and liken it to the rampant behaviour of Sodom and Gomorrah. They warn us that it will provoke the wrath of an angry God on a nation. Jourvert (Jour Ouvert) they say is the typification of all that is wrong with Carnival- the dressing like black devils at the crack of dawn is true idolatry of Lucifer.

In my eyes, Carnival is a mirror of the society in which we live. If it is immoral, it means our society is immoral, if it is hypocritical and debaucherous, it means that our society tolerates debaucheries. It is true that drink is consumed in copious quantities, but the same could be said of wedding celebrations- sanctified by God. Fact is that in Caribbean society, alcohol is often freely consumed and Carnival day is no exception to the rule of a drunk. Carnival no Carnival some of us do not drink to excess and Carnival no Carnival some of us do. Others warn us that nakedness and “wriggling bodies” are advertisements for sex. Oh save us from the evils of sex that will grasp up in its claws, unawares in a Carnival Band! The last time I checked most of us are thinking adults. It is impossible to ascribe sexual licentiousness to a festival: it is impossible to be sexually loose for one day and to live like a hermit for 363 days. If anyone is free with sexual favours around Carnival time, then it is highly likely that those favours were fast and loose (no pun intended) all year round. Character speaks louder than reputation or even behaviour- in spite of my less than holy Carnival behaviour (memories of those cheese sandwich wines live on), I have never ever been propositioned for sex: the individual in question would be certain to be the subject of a flying kick! To be honest, if one has participated in all the feting and excitement of the day, sleep is the only word with s which will be sought at the end of the evening.

As for J’ouvert, anyone knowing its true origins would be loathe to call it idolatry. It is the ultimate irony : the portrayal of the slave masters as black devils. More than anything, it is a rejection of veneration, a sarcastic and mocking cultural role play of the slaves’ masters at masquerade balls. The criticisms rivalled at Carnival today seem to represent a very colonialised view of culture and is reminiscent of the fears of the planter class who reported after emancipation “ in our towns, commencing with the orgies on Sunday night, we have a fearful howling of a parcel of semi-savages emerging God knows where from, exhibiting hellish scenes and the most demoniacal representations of the days of slavery: then using the mask the two following days as a mere cloak for every species of barbarism and crime” (Philip Scher, George Washington University) when they themselves committed one of the greatest atrocities on humanity. Who were the real savages?

They were fearful of the ceremony of the Cannes Brulées and stamped it out of carnivals in Trinidad and Grenada. Cannes Brulées was the ex-slaves’ nocturnal journey through the streets, burning the canes, symbols of their oppression- a re-enactment of the slaves’ tasks to put out the fires of the burning cane (sometimes set by them) and so dousing their freedom so to speak. Jouvert is the only time of the year when the hoi polloi, the great unwashed, are engaged in satirical political commentary on the rulers of the day through “Ole Mas” : they represent figures in the community and in traditional Caribbean folklore with cunning and tact. The Dame Lorraine, the Neg Jadin, the Burrokeets, the Short Knee, the Wild Indians, the Jab Molassie and the Moko Jumbies all have their own stories to tell. The calypsonians regale the year’s activities and serve as the omniscient narrator of the most newsworthy stories- they were the first bloggers of Caribbean life. Didn’t Jesus come to set the captives free? How can I separate myself from my cultural identity in the pretence that it would make me a better Christian? Or do I simply separate myself from the wining and jamming and what is termed lewd “dancing” that is not at all Christian-like? But isn’t this a part of the general fervour of the celebration?

I pledge allegiance to Carnival because it is a great equaliser. It is the only time of year when superfluous titles of lawyer, doctor, cleaner and politician are all erased and we are all just human. We are unified only by the pulse of music and march onwards with one spirit, together. At the risk of sounding blasphemous, isn’t this the meaning of Christianity- that we are all one flesh? Isn’t it a fact that Ecclesiastes 3:1 says that for everything there is a season and a time under heaven- including a time to dance? The Jamiesson Faucet Bible Commentary believes that this means that there is a time for all earthly pursuits. And isn’t Carnival simply the polar opposite of the solemnity of the Passion of Christ?

True Christianity is to live as Jesus lived. Jesus walked. Among all. He came for all men- Jew as well as Gentile, slave as well as free. Maybe it’s my image of this man as a free spirited individual, chanting “fire burn” on the Scribes and Pharisees, overturning the tables of the den of thieves in the temple, rolling twelve deep – with some close “brethren” for disciples, getting more wine when it ran out at the wedding in Cana that makes me feel that he does not appear to be a self righteous, prescriptive, egoist.