I am still not sure why the death of a Puerto Rican astrologer last weekend made headlines in a lot of elite newspapers, but there were stories everywhere this week about Walter Mercado.
The way he was written up, you’d think he was a reincarnated Jeane Dixon, so lavish was the praise. Among other things in his garish wardrobe, Mercado would sport a huge cross on a chain around his neck. Also, there was lots of God-talk involved in his work.
But you didn’t hear about any religion connections in all the obits, other than how Mercado had transcended all kinds of labels. What mattered was that, in an era in which drag queens are in fashion, Mercado was a forerunner in that culture. The Los Angeles Times said this:
Stars and fans of the late Puerto Rican astrologer and television personality Walter Mercado took to Twitter on Sunday morning to mourn the LGBTQ and Latino icon.
Mercado, who never publicly stated his sexuality, was an icon in the gay community for never conforming to traditional gender roles and challenging Latin America’s conservative television culture.
In an emotional thread, comedian Gabe Gonzalez shared his personal connection to the astrologer, who died Saturday of kidney failure.
I turned to the Remezcla site, which has a video of Mercado telling of paranormal experiences he had as a youth that led to him turning to astrology. He had more of those experiences — contacts with a “being of light” — at other points in his life, but he didn’t identify these experiences with any theological system.
It seems that this astrologer radiated, to his followers, far more love and acceptance than what leaders in organized religion were doling out.
I read more about his gender nonconformity and breaking of social norms than what he actually did as an astrologer. In other words, the gender-bending side of his life was more important than his beliefs.
What were some of his predictions? Did they come true? From this obit on Fox News to this Miami News Times piece, you don’ really get an answer to that.
You also don’t get a feel for what any Catholic officials (in the mainly Catholic Latino culture) felt about the guy, who was engaged in a practice forbidden in scripture. Instead, every writer I read insisted that Catholics saw no problem with his practices. As the New Times said:
My abuela was a good Catholic woman, so of course she didn’t believe in reading the stars or interpreting how the planets align from month to month. But Mercado was so beloved it didn’t matter. When he ended his program with his iconic signoff — "Paz, mucha paz, pero sobre todo, mucho, mucho, mucho amor" — my grandma would turn to me, seated cross-legged on the floor next to her, and emphasize the importance of that message.
A silly horoscope delivered by a flamboyantly dressed performer of indeterminate gender didn’t matter; the real takeaway was the appeal to be kind to people and approach each day with love and peace in your heart.
So was Mercado above religion? The New York Times says he transcended it.
When the new year approached, Walter recommended rituals in the extensive special editions of his horoscopes that ran in newspapers, magazines and on TV all across Latin America, and following them became a tradition that transcended generations, creeds or faiths. Walter would recommend what color to wear, which candles to burn and even what flowers and perfumes to bathe in before the clock struck midnight in order to start the year off right. Alejandro Álvarez, a poet friend of mine, described it perfectly in a Facebook post: “Walter was my grandmother, hiding her Santería from my Pentecostal grandfather.”
Those baths of roses and honey, the rituals with incense, water, plants, rocks and Agua de Florida, in no way seemed to contradict Catholic or Christian devotion, or the many forms of religious syncretism that are part of the daily life of his followers. In the figure of Walter Mercado, the mix of religions and the Santería heritage — so strong in the Caribbean and with its variations and cultural undertones in the rest of Latin America — manifested itself naturally and without clashes. Abuelas who clasped their rosary beads also read Walter.
From what I could gather from this Vice piece, Mercado was a patron saint of the spiritual-but-not-religious crowd; a patron saint for the unchurched and an example for gay kids to look up to.
For many, Mercado provided a link to the spirituality that many Latinx people grew up with, even if they have since left the church or changed their beliefs. He taught us to look to the stars and planets for understanding, and by the sheer force of his exuberant presence, to do so with confidence.
That is why I am guessing he was so lionized in the media in recent days; he was a pioneer for the newly popular “nones” movement — a man who toyed with the supernatural but had no use for specific doctrines about God. Such spirituality is quite popular these days, so it’s small wonder his death received so much attention.