Remembering Las Posadas

A tribute post to the Ortiz family that I miss tremendously. I hope this brings back many fond memories. Con mucho amor.

It makes me laugh when I think about all the assumptions I made when I was a kid. I thought everyone had a mom that cooked cuisine from around the world and I thought that everyone’s Dad could fix anything and everything. I also thought everyone’s Christmas season was filled with tons of family events and traditions. When it came to Advent and Christmas celebrations, the “normal” things that occurred in the Ortiz family were otherworldly. Looking back, I now yearn for just an ounce of those traditions to share with our kids.

The Ortiz normal started a week or two before Christmas when my grandfather’s outdoor nativity would begin its rebirth. This wasn’t your normal American outdoor silhouette scene or light-up Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This was a traditional Mexican nativity; a 10 foot long scene, hand crafted, complete with running water. It was the hill country of Bethlehem, with homes perched on neighboring hills, fish in the streams and shepherds with their flocks. Each year I would spend time “helping” to put the nativity together, playing with the little fish in the cold water and studying the little figures around the scene.

While my grandfather’s nativity was amazing, it was an adornment to the nine days leading up to Christmas. The Ortiz family would gather for Las Posadas to pray, sing and eat; reenacting Joseph and Mary’s search for a place to stay. The Ortiz family meaning our grandparents, our 8 aunts and uncles, spouses and the 28 grandchildren plus the extended family and friends that were always welcome at any family gathering. Even with the competing work and school events, it was easy to have a house packed with 30 people.

We would greet each other and then our beloved grandmother would call us to prayer, either kneeling on the floor, or as the years passed on a pillow given to her by one of her children. She would read prayers from an old worn booklet and then we would pray the rosary and intermittently add in the prayer, “Jesus, Jose y Maria, ofrezco por posada, mi corazon y alma mia.” The English translation is “Jesus, Joseph and Mary, I offer you the inn of my heart and soul.” After praying, the kids would take turns carrying the andas, a small platform which held the wooden figures of the holy couple. One half of the party would remain inside while the outdoor group would sing on behalf of Joseph and Mary, asking for shelter.

In Mexico you might have a whole neighborhood participating in this novena, but the Ortiz family in California was relegated to one home and three of its doors (usually the front door, the back door and the front door). At the third “home” Joseph and Mary would be welcomed in with open arms and singing. The host family would then hand out bags with peanuts and clementines and another mystery treat (honestly, it was hit or miss). Some nights we would break piñatas, and other nights we would eat posole or tamales and drink chocolate and pan dulce. On Christmas Eve, the last night of our novena, we would always gather at my grandparent’s home where my grandmother and another beloved family member would cradle a precious little statue of baby Jesus in a cloth and each child would lean over to kiss him and then collect a treat. It was a solemn end to nights of parties, but even then some years we would nap for a couple hours and rush off for Midnight Mass.

The tradition of Las Posadas, while having its very specific structure was frequently interrupted by family dynamics that still make me laugh and smile. One year my grandmother sent multiple of my older teenage cousins to a “time out” in our family’s very tiny bathroom for goofing around during the rosary. One by one they got up obediently and walked down the hall and the rest of us would hear ::knock knock knock:: “Grandma sent me too.” Each time it became more and more difficult for the 30 of us packed in our living room to keep from laughing.

Every year the singing would devolve into an impromptu competition of some sort, sometimes it was who sounded the most off key, who was the loudest or who could sing the notes the longest. There was no prize in this contest but you could almost guarantee a pulled ear or a pinched arm for your efforts. To this day I know the lyrics backward and forward and the tune comes into my head at the beginning of December like clockwork. It all makes my heart ache for more, for more time spent with family and traditions, for more memories with those loved ones who have passed.

Not being able to be in California for Las Posadas has been difficult and at times heartwrenching. If you have moved away from your family you likely already know the truth of this. Now COVID is making this the case for many if not for every family. Maybe its the Nutcracker ballet that your child usually performs in, or a show you go to watch every Christmas season, maybe its a family party, or a special event held at a local nursing home. I think we are all experiencing a bitter sweetness. We look forward to Christmas but cannot help but feel the pain of missing what we know and love.

In a way, we are experiencing something similar to Joseph and Mary. Like them, we are looking for shelter, our home to return to and we are finding the doors closed. We desire to eat with others, to rejoice with others over the birth of Christ but there is a deep heaviness that looms. Things are not as they should be in this world, but this is exactly where God makes a way. Where there is no inn, there is a cave; where there is no bed, there is a manger. Where there are no large earthly receptions, the angels sing. Where there is seemingly no space for Love Himself, He seeks out the most humble spot. And what more humble spot do we have than our hearts that yearn for more?

Every night our little family gathers around our beloved advent wreath and sings “O Come Divine Messiah”. We ask the Lord to come into this dark world soon, to bring His light and show Himself. My son then leads us in our prayer, “Jesus Mary and Joseph, we give you our hearts as your home.” If you have been feeling this loneliness in your heart, or just a desire to have the Lord more present in you, I invite you to pray this with us each night. I invite you to offer Him the inn of your heart and let Him fill it with His goodness. May God bless you all richly this Advent Season!