Exu Becomes the Lord of the Encruzilhada
- Anelise Molina

- Apr 17
- 3 min read
In Brazilian Portuguese, encruzilhada means crossroads. But the encruzilhada is much more than that. At the encruzilhada, ordinary life meets the divine. Anyone in Brazil (even the most devout Christian) will, at some point in their life, leave an offering at the encruzilhada. They are trying to reach an ambiguous entity that does not care whether the human believes in the patriarchal god or belongs to the African Brazilian religion. Exu cares only about the offer made and the power wielded over human lives. Exu is neither an evil god nor a good one. Exu is neither feminine nor masculine and does not belong to either the physical or the spiritual world. Exu is always crossing. The myth (Prandi, 2001) states that Exu had no exceptional talent or ability. He was always wandering around the world, useless. One day, Exu visited Oxalá, the father of all the Orixás. There, people came to visit for a few days, admired Oxalá’s work in making humans, but learned nothing from the old king. Exu decided to stay and, for sixteen years, learned from Oxalá all about humanity, in every detail. One day, as Oxalá was overwhelmed by work, he asked Exu to go to the encruzilhada that led to his house and let pass only those who brought a present to Oxalá. Exu obeyed and did excellent work. Oxalá, satisfied, named Exu the lord of all the encruzilhadas. Exu is responsible for conveying offers from one side (the physical world) to the other (the spiritual world). Because of its knowledge of humanity, Exu can understand people’s hearts, determine whether their desires are legitimate, and interpret their behavior. Exu lives on the encruzilhada, a no-place place (Prandi, 2001, pp. 40-41). He is the messenger, the communicator, and the god closest to humans. He shares human desires (food, alcohol, sex, parties) and he values commitment, honesty and perseverance. He is the Orixá of the crossing, and the encruzilhada is his place.
Many aspects of Brazilian history and culture can explain the devotion to Exu. Despite the Christian misinterpretation that equates Exu with the Christian devil, most people visit terreiros (Afro-Brazilian temples) and experience Exu’s presence (in his masculine or feminine form) by consulting the Orixá about everyday concerns, such as money, love, and profession. I am from southern Brazil. My region, especially my state, has the highest percentage of practitioners of African-Brazilian religions in the country and also the largest population self-declared “de religião”, which means belonging to one of the many branches of African Brazilian religions (umbanda, candomblé (or nação), quimbanda, batuque). Given the state’s image of massive white immigration from Europe, it seems inconceivable that these two data can coexist: white people worshipping African gods. I particularly grew up in a house with many religions, including Catholicism and batuque, and many races, and for me, at that time, there was no conflict. I later came to understand the improbability of this coexistence. At the same time, this shows how complex my country can be and how this fluid and confusing relationship among race, culture, social class, and spirituality can inform complex coalition-building. It can also explain, at least in part, why Brazilian spirituality is liminal and accommodates a range of complex configurations. Our inclination to assimilate, melt, and mix, and not reject any aspect of the universe in its entirety, can also be explained by historical factors, as I will present further in this chapter.
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