These are questions I am frequently asked. The answers I give reflect my
understanding as a fledgling santera.

Do Santeria practitioners worship many Gods?
Santeria is what academics call a monotheistic religion, meaning it includes the belief in
one Supreme Being: God or Oloddumare. Many people are surprised to learn this given
the popularity of the colorful orishas of the Yoruba pantheon. These orishas are viewed
as earthly manifestations of God’s energies that bestow their blessings and powers upon
living people. Likewise, deceased ancestors are worshiped as sacred energies,
collectively known as Egungun or Egun, who guide and protect loved ones.

What is the difference between Santeria, Ifa and Lucumí?
The answer to this question is likely to be different depending on whom you ask. Santeria
is the religion formed by slaves in Cuba when they syncretized the Gods and Goddesses
of the Yoruba pantheon with God, Jesus and the Saints of the Catholic Church. In my
understanding, modern-day Ifá corresponds to the Yoruba male priesthood of the orisha
Orunmila, also known as St. Francis or San Francisco to santeros. Orula, as he is also
called, is the knower of all human destinies.

Babalawos are the high priest of Yoruba orisha worship and played major roles in most
Santeria ceremonies. Due in part to the scarcity of babalawos in the United States in the
fifties and sixties, some of the practices traditionally performed by babalawos were done
by santeros instead.

With the rise of the Ifá community, especially after the 1980 Mariel Boatlift, the roles are
shifting once again. For example, the tradition that came out of Cuba held that a Santeria
initiate first received the sacred necklaces (elekes in Yoruba, called collares in Spanish)
from a santero, then the Warriors and Orunmila at the hands of a babalawo followed
lastly by the initiation into the mysteries of the person’s guardian orisha by his or her
godparents, or padrinos. Now that babalawos are more readily available, some houses of
Santeria practitioners are again following this traditional ordering of sequential steps that
lead to initiation.

Lucumi is the Yoruba word for friend. Historically, the Yoruba in Cuba came to be
known as Lucumi. Modern santeros use the word to refer to Spanish version of the
Yoruba language that evolved in Cuba. (Due to the oral nature of the traditions, many
spellings of words can differ from person to person.) Some orisha worshipers, especially
African Americans, now refer to themselves as Lucumi practitioners. Their practice,
which arrived on U.S. shores as Santeria, no longer includes the Catholic and Hispanic
influences and interpretations of the Yoruba religion.

The Lucumi still share important similarities with Santeria, such as that of initiates
receiving multiple orishas during initiation. Historically, individual orishas had separate
worship communities, much like many Catholic countries claim a patron saint. In the
New World, these individual communities collapsed into one in which all orishas were worshiped. Some experts cite the first evidence of the practice of receiving multiple
orishas occurring in Cuba in 1923 and the first initiation on U.S. shores occurring in 1961
in New York.

How does ancestor worship fit into Santeria?
In Yoruba culture, deceased ancestors are worshiped as sacred entities, collectively
known as egungun or egun, that guide and protect the loved ones still living. The
practices associated with worship of egungun were among those lost in the Slave Trade.
Without the knowledge of the specific practices, santeros turned instead to the practice
known as spiritism, or espiritismo in Spanish, developed by a French scientist who wrote
under the pseudonym of Allan Kardec. His Guide to Mediums and Collection of Prayers
are basic texts used by santeros to develop their mediumistic talents and call to the egun
during misas, or séances, respectively. It’s important to note that many people who do not
practice Santeria practice spiritism. It is estimated that 90 percent of Latin Americans
believe in espiritismo.

Why do santeros sacrifice animals and is the practice legal?
The sacrificing of animals is the most sensationalized aspect of Santeria practice. It has
been misrepresented as cruel, illegal and thoughtless process. Nothing could be further
from the truth. At the center of the practice is the Yoruba concept of ashé, or life energy.
All of God’s creations possess this energy to varying degrees. Living things require the
ashé of other living things in order to flourish. Whether from plants or animals, the
human body requires energy to physically survive. For the Yoruba, the ashé of both
plants and animals are also used for spiritual healing and wellbeing. The actual practice
of the sacrifice is done with the utmost respect for the animal giving its life and only with
permission of the orishas. Sacrifices are usually performed under serious circumstances
or during a few specific rituals. In my view, the use of livestock is minimal compared to
what is consumed for food and the taking of those lives is done in a far more humane and
thoughtful way than what ends up on the dinner plates of average Americans. Lastly, the
practice was deemed to be legal by the United States Supreme Court in 1993 (see Church
of Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520 [1993]).

If Santeria is so powerful, why are many santeros poor?
The assumption at the heart of this question is that santeros believe themselves to be all
knowing. Again, nothing could be farther from the truth, at least among those who would
never be mistaken for a charlatan. An author writing about Ifå put this into prospective:
initiation is simply permission to study. I take it one step further and say that initiation
into Santeria is also a call to serve. That service includes honoring the orishas, bringing
forth the guidance offered to family members by departed ancestors, and offering
spiritual guidance to those who seek it. My godmother died in what some would call
abject poverty. Those of us who knew her, however, know that was because her full-time
job was seeing to the wellbeing of her religious and blood-related families. This job paid
little in the way of money, but we were her calling and she was unselfish with her time
and support. Anyone who attended her funeral saw and felt that she was rich in love,
respect and many of the non-material blessings the orishas have to offer.