The ghost festival

The whole family gathered around Tươi, both frightened and delighted. Tươi had turned into a different person; by her own whispered account she was possessed by the spirit of her elder brother who had died young. The words and manner now appearing were indeed no longer Tươi's, but whether they were those of the brother who died young, no one could tell, because he had been only seven then. Her mother wept softly with emotion and was convinced it was her son who had died young, because he mentioned something only she knew: the time she carried him to watch a performance at the communal house and somehow one sandal was lost, so that mother and child went home barefoot.
Her father looked sympathetic but also tried to probe for anything suspicious. He asked:

• If you really are Hưng, tell me what illness you died of.
  Tươi's voice sounded strange, her gaze far away:
• The doctor said I had severe pneumonia at the time, but that wasn't it; Uncle Thành took me away to help him look after things down here.
  Her father exclaimed:
• It's true, Grandfather had a younger brother named Thành who died long ago.
  Tươi nodded and went on:
• I miss Father and Mother and love my younger siblings. Tú, the girlfriend you plan to marry is not good, you know. She has another lover named Khanh over in town. Leave her.
  Tú started and said:
• It's true that once I saw a message from this Khanh, and when I asked she denied it flatly.
  Tươi spoke again:
• Tú, it's good that you're joining the army; when you come back you'll have many lucky opportunities. And Father, stop going to drink tea at Mrs Sương's shop; she has many lovers and if you're not careful, jealous fights will shame you all.
  Father blushed. Mother glared at Father.
  Tươi spoke again:
• In three years I'll be reborn into a family in the next commune, because they've prayed for me and they know how to do good.
  Mother asked:
• What is the realm of the dead like down there, child?
• The realm of the dead is very different from the realm of the living, but those with merit are happy and those with little merit have a hard time.
• And what is hell, child?
• Hell is where people who committed grave wrongs while alive are held. The punishments there are terrifying.
• And what are the heavenly realms, child?
• The heavenly realms I don't know; I've only heard they're very high, for those who in life cultivated themselves and attained a saintly inner nature.
• Then in the seventh month, when we make offerings to the wandering spirits, can the spirits eat?
• How could they eat, Mother? They don't know how to chant sutras, and the living snatch it all up. The spirits come, look, and leave again to drift hungry and miserable.
• Then what sutras must be chanted for the spirits to eat?
• Only when virtuous practitioners chant sutras and give permission can the spirits eat.
• Now I see the young people copying the West with some ghost festival, dressing up as ghosts and demons for a day. What does that mean, child?
• That is an insult to those in the realm of the dead. It's not that everyone who dies is ugly and frightening like that. The spirits witnessing the ghost festival feel very hurt. Nothing is offered to the spirits; they are only mocked as if they were something horrible and wicked.
  Father cut in and asked:
• Have you met any of our relatives down there?
• Some I've met and some I haven't, Father. But once down there, everyone has to look after their own lot, and must try to do work and practise and cultivate merit so that later they have merit enough to be reborn as humans and meet the teachings of the sages to keep practising. Father will live another 15 years, Mother another 23. From now until then, try to practise and do many meritorious deeds. Down there everyone laments: if only we had known to practise and make merit while alive. With merit, whether dead or alive, you are happy. Without merit, you suffer wherever you are.
  Mother asked:
• Then what about the neighbours who often serve the saints who possess their bodies, dressing in fine clothes, dancing and handing out blessings?
• That is only a re-enactment of ancient ritual; it isn't really a lively saint possessing them like that. Saints come back only discreetly, and only when it is really necessary. The Saints also have to look after their own practice.
  The family talked a little longer, and then Tươi collapsed as the spirit left her...👻

We know nothing about the realms after death. Not knowing does not mean there is nothing. Death is never the end, because at death not all the fairness of life has yet been settled. A film may end only when all debts and grievances are resolved. But in this life people die one after another while their debts of grievance, wrongdoing and merit have still not been settled; therefore the film has not ended and must continue in another form.

The realm of death may be very different from this realm of the living, but all are alike in being Fair. Whoever makes merit is happy, whoever commits wrongs suffers. A characteristic of spirits is that they see us, and even know our thoughts. We, on the contrary, do not see them and know nothing of them. Such is the barrier between the two realms of yin and yang.

However, Eastern culture, especially Vietnamese, holds the departed in great regard. Even though we do not see them, Vietnamese people still respect them, make offerings and burn incense in full, which warms the hearts of the departed. Other cultures understand the realm of death differently and so behave differently. They only stand before the grave, lay some flowers and go home. On Halloween, children dress up as ghosts to remember the dead, which is rather comical. That way of remembering is shallow and without respect.

The dead are also people, and also have dignity and honour. Even if sometimes they are a spirit hiding in a corner of the house, or a spirit drifting at the head of the lane, or a spirit in a tall tree, they still have the worth of a living being between heaven and earth. Sometimes they are hungry and need us to make offerings to feed them, sometimes they have the power to protect us in some matter, but they are still lovable, precious beings. Our ethical attitude is to understand them, empathise with them, cherish them, help them, make offerings to them, and create conditions for them to hear the teachings of the sages. They too do not yet understand the teachings well, and sometimes they too may harbour all kinds of anger and delusion, but let us love them first. And then one day we too will go to that realm.
If now we hold the spirits in that realm in respect, then later when we go there we shall also be respected as we deserve.