STARKVILLE — After more than 30 years of reading think tank “white paper” analyses of so many indices of economic or social progress where Mississippi lags at or near last place among the states, here’s one category where the Magnolia State leads the pack. We’re No. 1!
Mississippi ranks dead last (get it, “dead” last!) in the U.S. rate of cremation. A recent Time magazine piece on the rising popularity of cremation over traditional burials or entombments pointed out that while Nevada had a cremation rate of a whopping 74 percent, the Deep South has been exceedingly slow to “warm up” (sorry, hard to stop … ) to cremation.
The magazine writers offered this explanation: “The U.S.’s history as a predominantly Christian nation has arguably been the one true barrier holding cremation back. That helps explain why there are still fewer cremations in the South than any other region in the U.S. (The book of Revelation in the New Testament foretells a time when a trumpet will sound and the dead in Christ shall rise first as Jesus returns. It doesn’t say anything about the dead rising from their urns.)”
The article goes on to point out that it was only in 1997 that the Catholic Church allowed cremated remains to be part of a funeral mass, and cremation is widely considered forbidden by both Islam and Judaism.
“Even Billy Graham has said there’s nothing in the Bible that forbids it. That’s helped make the practice more acceptable in the Bible Belt, the one region where cremation has yet fully to take hold,” the article said.
Given the turn the popular culture in the country has taken, perhaps being last in cremation has some advantages. Let me remind you, gentle reader, that the season three finale of the AMC television series “The Walking Dead” is currently the most popular show on television. The show, based on the comic book series of the same title, is the tale of a sheriff’s deputy who awakens from a coma to find himself wandering in a post-apocalyptic world dominated by zombies.
Zombies, of course, in this context are of the flesh-eating variety. But one only has to observe the staggering, halting gait or hear the guttural noises made by the average zombie for a time to deduce that they can easily be mistaken for, in no certain order: 1) College students filing into 8 a.m. classes; 2) Late-night boozy revelers on Bourbon Street or at the Neshoba County Fair trying to navigate a path back to their places of abode; or, 3) Children called back into class from recess.
I’ve had lots of friends buried or entombed and I’ve had several cremated. I’m hoping to see most all of them again, but I admit that I’d rather forego the zombie apocalypse and just cut straight to a heavenly reunion replete with soft clouds, harps and streets paved with gold.
• Sid Salter is director of the Office of University Relations at Mississippi State University. Contact him at sidsalter@sidsalter.com.
