Here
in north-west Europe, our 21st century communities are multi-cultural
and multi-faith, and that is a very good thing: there is so much we
can learn from each other and enjoy and celebrate together, so long
as we set aside the ridiculous fear of 'the unknown' and the
'different'. But for some of us, including me, much of our own
cultural and religious heritage derives from Celtic and Norse
mythologies and traditions - a heritage which has been forgotten,
ignored, or subsumed by the subsequent spread of Pauline
Christianity, which radically re-shaped not only our society, but
also our mind-set.
If
you buy in to the story (myth/legend) of the Fall, the need for
personal salvation, and the cult of the Saviour-Hero, then this may
well suit you. For me, it does not sit comfortably any more, even
though I have tried to honour the traditions I received from my
immediate fore-mothers and -fathers. And I want to get further back,
to the ancestors I cannot find for my family tree, the unknown
generations of up to two millennia ago. Why? Because they and their
beliefs and practices are my true roots, and, as I slow down a little
within a fast-paced world, I want to know, to own, my rootedness, and
to decide just to what and where I belong.
A
sense of identity can be a frail thing. It may be defined by family
relationships - being a daughter, sister, niece, aunt, wife, mother,
cousin, friend. It may be defined by occupation - being a student,
teacher, nurse, manager, therapist. It may be defined by activities -
singer, crafter, gardener, cook, photographer, blogger. But all these
ways of perceiving our identity alter over time. Even, or rather,
especially, our appearance varies as we grow up and age down! So in
all this change, what is it that is constant?
It
has been said that, for indigenous people the world over, tradition
is the basic tenet of society, the glue that binds them together, one
of the points of focus that creates group identity. It has also been
said that the greater part of such tradition is the relationship with
the ancestors, and that the very act of acknowledging them helps us
to find our place in the world and the sense of belonging within our
tribe. The ancestors are thus both our past and our future.
Have
we replaced the sense of belonging to a tribe, within which we know
our place in the world, with attachment to, for example, football or
other sports teams? Have we replaced participation in the lives of
our tribe with observing the lives of so-called celebrities on
television and in newspapers and magazines? Have we replaced
life-long adherence to a community of faith with self-serving and
perhaps facile individualistic quests for wealth, power, glamour,
elitism, or, even, spiritual growth? Who, today, are our kindred?
Who, to us, are worth our service and care? Who are worth living and
dying for?
As
readers of my blog will know, despite not being an historian, last
month I attempted a little foray into the beliefs and practices of
ancient British people - not entirely straight-forward, since there
were no written records of anything, let alone of
culture or religious belief and practice: it is only possible to
speculate and/or, at best, extrapolate theories based on
archaeological discoveries - none of which are of images/statues of
deities nor of special buildings for worship. What can be deduced up
to and including the era of the Iron-Age Celts is this:
- that, for at least the last 40,000 years, people have mattered to each other and have been cared for by each other, including those who are sick, injured, disabled, old, and newly born; and this care includes deliberate burial;
- the dead may have been honoured by the placing of grave goods;
- there may have been a belief in an after-life, and veneration of ancestors.
- there was a belief that people were constituted of a soul (whatever that means) as well as a body;
- there was belief in a spirit world beyond or behind the tangible world, and in a variety of gods and goddesses, many of whom personify aspects of Nature, and some of whom were either tribal, in couples, or triadic (each 'person' of the triad revealing a different aspect of the whole divine being);
- offerings, including sacrifices, were made to the deities, indicating a belief in a relationship between humanity and divinity; and
- natural and man-made sites were used for rituals and for festivals.
Then
along come the Romans, first of all in 55 BCE and then back to stay
from 43 CE, and with them, for the first time, written records,
albeit very much reflecting their own world view, rather than that of
their indigenous pagan (rural-dwellers) subjects. So these give the
information that the Celts:
- celebrated festivals, marking the progress of the year, measured in lunar months;
- worshipped both in sacred groves and at shrines;
- included the Druids - the 'oak-seers' - portrayed (and persecuted) by the Romans as a religious and learned elite with considerable holy and secular powers; and
- believed in re-incarnation and the transmigration of the soul.
The
Romans themselves brought their own religious beliefs and practices
with them, which had quite a lot in common with Celtic paganism: both
were polytheistic, both believed in local spirits, and both practiced
very localised worship, whether in natural places (Celts) or man-made
temples (Romans). Despite these similarities, the two traditions did
not unite, leaving a door open for the new faith and culture of
Christianity - albeit developing with a distinctive Celtic approach -
so that by the 6th century CE, the Celtic region was in transition
between paganism and Christianity.
And
then the Germanic Saxon hordes descend. The
Anglo-Saxons were, like the Romans and Celts before them,
polytheists. They
also believed in various other supernatural beings or wights,
including elves, giants, and dragons, and they believed in what are
now termed magic and witchcraft, using charms and amulets such as
cowrie shells, animal teeth, and gemstones such as amethyst, amber,
and quartz. Their cultic
practice was probably very similar to other pre-Christian pagan
systems, and is said to have included offerings and rituals carried
out in both high places and other sacred spaces (such as the henges
and other enclosures) as well as at man-made monuments and shrines.
One interesting Anglo-Saxon concept was that of Wyrd, often
translated as Fate, but more accurately meaning 'that which has come
to pass' in the sense of a process of happening - a concept also
found in Norse mythology.
Anglo-Saxon
paganism only existed in Britain for a relatively short time - from
the 5th to the 8th centuries - and it was
during the late Anglo-Saxon period that Britain was subject to Viking
raids and invasions. As the potential for colonisation was realised,
larger Norse armies began to arrive, and there were continuing
struggles for power between the Anglo-Saxons and the North-men until
878, when a treaty established the two kingdoms of Danelaw (north and
east) and Wessex (south and west). From then on the nation see-sawed
between Anglo-Saxon and Nordic rule, until in 1066 Duke William, 'the
conqueror', became the first Norman King of England.
The
North folk had of course brought with them to Britain their own
pre-Christian beliefs, which again included belief in supernatural
beings, such as
alfr
(elves)
and trolls,
as well as a
pantheon of deities. Chief among these was Odin, the All-Father, god
of warfare, justice, death, wisdom and poetry; his consort Frigg was
the goddess of Love. Thor, the thunder god with his hammer Mjölnir,
was the main defender of the gods against their enemies, the Giants;
his consort Sif was the Goddess Earth or Grain Goddess. Freyr (Lord)
and his twin sister Freyja (Lady) were the god and goddess of
fertility. More powerful, however, than the gods were the Nornir,
female beings who ruled the destiny/fate/Wyrd of both gods and men.
Norse
religious belief, much like that of the Celts and
Anglo-Saxons/Teutons, was not centralised, each region having its own
slight variations. As far as is known, there were no priests as such
(although there were shaman and seers) - the leader of the community
or household would carry out the rituals. First among these was the
blót:
the sacrifice of an animal, the sprinkling of its blood over both
images of the gods and the assembled people, and feasting on its
meat, washed down with mead or ale. Smaller, daily rituals included
galdr
(chanted incantations), while the rites of passage through life were
also the cause of celebration, such as birth and naming, marriage,
and burials/funerals.
I
freely admit that I am a novice in terms of my knowledge of
pre-Christian British beliefs, and there is a LOT more research to be
done! However, from what I have learnt so far, the following seems to
me to be a reasonable, if vague, summary:
- It is appropriate to give honour to the dead, by funeral/burial/cremation rites, and the inclusion, as appropriate, of grave or funeral goods. This indicates a belief in an after-life, and leads to the honouring of the ancestors.
- A common thread through the ages is a belief in a spirit world which is enmeshed with our own tangible world, populated by beings who are variously understood to be deities and spirits, and many of whom are personifications of aspects of nature.
- Rituals re-inforce the inter-relationship between people, the natural world, and the spirit/other world, and gathering as a community/fellowship/sharing is important and enhancing.
- Sacred places may be natural or man-made; it may or may not be useful to have 'ordained' religious leaders, but is not necessary as such: the head of a household can 'preside' and every one can adopt their own personal practices.
- There is a value in marking both the turning points of the year with festivals (aided by the use of calendars), and the significant stages of human life.
So,
having already started to create my own 'sacred space' - Cernunnos'
Spiral - in our evolving garden, what I'm now going to attempt is a
rather different sort of 'calendar' from the one I've already posted
over the past several months on my blog 'Celebrating the Year'. This
new one won't be a set of dates, but rather a series of activities -
a guide for doing - in order to determine our perception of
where we are both in the annual cycle and in the greater scheme of
things.
Since
I am writing this at the time of the Harvest Moon, it's a good
coincidence that the first of the Days of Doing is Harvest. Also
known as the Feast
of the Wains
(wagons), this takes place around the time of the Autumn Equinox
('Mabon'), and was in honour of those gods associated with fertility,
wisdom, and the future. One custom which survived the Christian
conversion was the leaving of some of the harvest for the gods and/or
spirits, for example, the last clump of corn, or the last five or six
apples. The reserved crops were decorated with ribbons, and from this
arose the tradition of the Corn Maiden and the making of corn
dollies.
What
to do:
If you have anything that you can harvest - herbs, fruit, veg,
flowers - then harvest it, but leave a small portion, and decorate it
with a ribbon.
About
a (lunar) month later is Winter
Nights,
which was regarded as the start of winter, there being only two
seasons, winter and summer. In the old days, this was celebrated with
a feast and with prayers for a good winter, and both the spirits of
the land and the ancestral guardian spirits were honoured, along with
the remembrance of the dead and of one's ancestors. This festival was
incorporated by the Christians as All Souls Day - the 'Commemoration
of the Faithful Departed'. Winter Nights also marked the beginning of
the Wild Hunt, which would continue until Walpurgisnacht (1st May) -
a procession of the dead led by Odin (also revered as Wotan) on his
eight-legged horse Sleipnir ('Slippy'), accompanied by dogs and
horses, riding through the winter storms.
What
to do:
Plant something in memory of the people you love who have died, and,
as you tend it and watch it grow, remember them with thankfulness.
Next
of course, at the time of the Winter Solstice, there is Jól
(Yule), Jólnir
being one of the names of Odin (Óðinn),
the All-Father (Alfaðir),
the vital force of the vital forces which were personified as the
gods, the breath of life, will, and power. According to legend, Odin
played a part in the creation of the world, by the slaying of the
primordial being Ymir, and granting the gift of life to the first two
human beings, Ask and Embla, who were also given Midgard (Middle
Earth) for their dwelling, and who were the father and mother of all
people.
An
excursion in the manner of, and about, Odin...
Known
in Old English and Old Saxon as Woden and in Old High German as Wotan
('Master of ecstasy') Odin is the ruler of the Aesir tribe of deities
(the other being the Vanir), but he often ventures far from his realm
of Asgard, on long solitary wanderings throughout the cosmos on
quests for wisdom, knowledge, and magical power, accompanied by his
ravens Hugin and Munin and the wolves Geri and Freki.
He
has been described as a 'relentless seeker after, and giver of,
wisdom' but with little regard for convention - and he was thus the
patron both of rulers and of outlaws. Another apparent contradiction
is that he is both a war god, closely associated with
berserkers/warrior-shaman and ferocious totem animals (wolves and
bears), and yet he speaks only in poems, having stolen the mead of
poetry, Óðrœrir,
from the giants, and dispensing it to certain gods, humans, and other
beings whom he deems worthy of it. And yet, perhaps there is less
contradiction here than first appears: both battle-frenzy and poetic
inspiration derive from óðr
- the divine madness which may manifest in war and in words.
Odin
is often portrayed as a tall, old man, with flowing beard, wearing a
cloak and a wide-brimmed hat, and carrying his spear Gungnir.
His appearance
is marked by his single, piercing eye. The story goes that Odin
ventured to one of the three Wells found among the roots of the
world-tree Yggdrasil, where Mimir, 'the Rememberer' lived. One of the
tree roots passes into the land of the frost jötnar
where the primordial plane of Ginnungagap once existed. The water of
the wells contained much wisdom. Odin asked Mimir for a drink of
water from the well - and the price of the drink was an eye - which
may symbolise the exchange of one mode of perception - eye-sight -
for another - insight.
The
great tree Yggdrasil, whose upper branches cradle Asgard, home of the
Aesir, grew out of the Well of Urd, where the Norns live. Odin had
observed the Norns from his seat in Asgard and envied their powers
and wisdom. Wishing to prove himself worthy of knowledge of the
runes, each of which contained philosophical and magical significance
in both visual form and sound, Odin hung himself from a branch of
Yggdrasil, pierced himself with his spear, and refused food, water,
or any aid. Staring down, he called to the runes for nine nights and
days, in a state somewhere between life and death - like the shaman,
who underwent a ritual death and rebirth in order to acquire their
powers - and, I think, origin of the Hanged Man card of the Tarot. At
last Odin perceived the shapes of the runes in the depths of the
water. Taking this as a sign that they had accepted his sacrifice,
Odin fixed both their form and their secrets in his memory, and ended
his ordeal with a cry of exultation. (It would be interesting to go
back in time and learn how much of the story of Odin that has come
down to us from the sagas and the 13th century eddas of Snorri
Sturluson was influenced by Christianity and the New Testament
stories of Jesus.)
From
the knowledge of the runes, Odin gained much power, including the
ability to heal emotional and bodily wounds, and
to wake the dead, he being the lord of Valhalla, the most prestigious
dwelling place of the dead, chosen from the fallen by the valkyries.
(The other half go to Fólkvangr
(Field
of the People),
the
realm of the goddess Freya.)
Odin
is described in the Eddas as the father of Thor, Baldr, Víðarr
and Váli,
and elsewhere as also the father of Heimdallr, Bragi, Týr,
and Hoðr.
...
and back again to Jól...
Some
of our current Christmas customs find their roots in Jól: the
lighting of the Yule Log (somewhat down graded to a chocolate cake!),
singing, visiting one another's houses, Father Christmas/Santa Claus,
riding across the sky in his sleigh drawn by reindeer - a gentle
version of the Wild Hunt - and, of course, feasting.
The
original feast centred around the boar (hence that mysterious Boar's
Head Carol!), a creature associated with Freyr, the god of sacral
kingship, over which solemn, holy oaths for the coming year would be
made - which have dwindled down to our often desultory New Year
Resolutions. According to some legends, the eve of the Solstice was
when Freyr himself rode over the world on the back of his shining
boar, bringing back Light and Love. Later the same eve was celebrated
as the birth-night of the god Baldur... and, of course, it is when
Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus. So it is at this darkest
time of the year when the brightest hope re-enters the world.
What
to do:
Light a candle, and let it burn out naturally (and safely please!)
But
before the Jólblót
(Yule feast), on the eve of its first day, was Modraniht,
Mother Night, in honour, of course, of mothers. Food was left out for
the departed mothers and other ancestors, as well as for the álfar
(elves) and for the
Wild Hunt, and children would hope to receive a gift in return for
this kindness - another link with Santa Claus and his elvish
assistants.
What
to do:
Find out what your nearest women's refuge needs, and give it to them.
After
the dark and cold of Winter, it is no surprise that the first of the
Rites of Spring is Summer
Finding.
This could occur either around the Spring Equinox (around the third
week of March) or any time during the first half of what we know as
April. The significant 'findings' were the first flower of Spring,
such as the violet, and/or the return of certain birds, such as the
cuckoo, stork, or swallow, from their winter roosts. The later
practices of both Easter and May Day derive from this festival time:
for example, the hare, sacred to the goddess Ostara/Eostre, became
the "Easter Bunny", and Hot Cross Buns derive from the
ritual bread marked with the image of the horns of the ox sacrificed
at the feast. The very word 'bun' derives from the Saxon word 'boun'
meaning 'sacred ox'.
What
to do:
Keep a keen look out for the first signs of Spring - and, if it's a
flower, don't pick it! Take a photo and put it up somewhere you'll
see it every day.
Walpurgisnacht,
the end of the period of the Wild Hunt, occurred around the end of
April. Once a nine night festival, it was a remembrance of Odin's
self-sacrifice on the World Tree, Yggdrasil (see above, re Jól).
It was on the ninth night that he beheld the Runes, grasped them, and
ritually died for an instant, during which all the Light in the Nine
Worlds was extinguished and Chaos reigned before the Light returned
(on the last stroke of mid-night) - marked by the lighting of bale
fires.
What
to do:
Remind your self of something you've wanted to do or learn or see...
And set whatever is needed in motion so that you get to do it.
Two
other deaths, those of Baldr, son of Odin and his wife Frigg
('Beloved'), killed by Loki ('Knot'/'Tangle'), and of the hero Sigurd
(whose story is thought to derive in part from the history of one of
the Merovingian kings of the Franks, Sigebert) were celebrated at the
Summer Solstice. Known as Sun's
Wending,
this festival was kept with dancing, feasting, burning wheels, and
bonfires, into which were cast garlands, herbs and blue flowers, such
as larkspur, as a sign of throwing off an ill-fortune. Cattle were
sometimes driven through the smoke of the fires, to cleanse or purify
them.
What
to do:
Watch the sun set, and either stay up all night or get up early
enough to see it rise. And treat your self to a really nice
break-fast!
The
last major event before harvest came round again was
þing-tide
around
the third week of August. The þing
(pronounced 'thing') also known as Alþing,
was an assembly or meeting, held, unsurprisingly, at the þingstede.
In
Anglo-Saxon terms, it was a folk-moot, or folk meeting, during which
legislation was laid down, chieftains and kings elected (one person,
one vote), and legal judgments made. The annual public assemby of the
Isle of Man, during which new Max laws are read out and petitions
delivered, derives its name, Tynwald, from the þingvellir.
Elsewhere, it became known as the wapentake.
What
to do:
Send a card (yes, a real one, not an e- one) to someone you regret
losing touch with, just to say you're thinking of them, and including
your current contact details.
THE
END!!!
