Writing a ritual to music, however, has shown me one detriment to a Very Musical Midsummer. Music and poetry are not very descriptive; they do not often tell you why you are doing something, and it is hard to write poetry and music that tells you how to do something. Interspersed with the music, our Grove Organizer described our next course of action in prose to the gathered assembly. It certainly helped them follow the ritual, but took away somewhat from the power of the music. This is alright, of course, but it was certainly a learning experience for me. Something to keep in mind when writing poems for future rites.

The reason we put these rites on is for community and fellowship, in the presence of the Gods. Power is part of that, and so is understanding. One should not be without the other; we as Americans have a harder time, though, because we lack the cultural experience that the ancient Indo-Europeans had with their Gods and Goddesses. So prose becomes a bigger part of our rites, because that speaks more to our current culture. Not a bad thing, but it can be frustrating.

This rite was to Njord, the keeper of bounty, the God of the Seas and Rivers and what fruits come from them, from travel to fish to trade. We have already had an amazing summer so far, and our lot was increased greatly at Bealtainne. Now, our blessing comes in the form of the Seed, the Sun, and the Tree, a grand omen for the hot days ahead. The solstice marks the longest day of the year, which is a bounty in and of itself, with long days and happy evenings. When I was a child, I looked forward to June, because my bed-time was at sunset, so in May and June I was looking forward to the latest bed-times of my young life. In some ways, it’s still the case, being a school bus driver.

Music was a bounty given at Midsummer, though. Without Njord’s help, and Bragi’s, too, I think it would not have come off so well. Having a good community of attendees was also awesome, a gift given for the work we have put in to have these rites. I hope this is a blessing we see for years to come.

Our next rite is Lughnasadh, on July 31st. It should be a lot of fun; we’re planning some games and sparring matches, and we’re also going to be celebrating the Grove Organizer’s patron, which is always a plus. It will be in the Celtic style, so I think this will be a lot of fun, and very fulfilling.

Summer brings bounty and hard work. Summer brings fertile crops and grand swaths of fields awash in green. America loves summer, even as many Americans loathe winter. I don’t know how different it is in other countries; I’ve never been, myself, but here, summer is the season of increase.

Imagine some of the icons of summer: lemonade, swimming, fresh pie, Fourth of July feasts and parades. In a way, all these are celebrations of increase, from fresh berries thrown in a pie to freshly-squeezed lemons and sugar. In this “Age of Information”, very few of us actually think about why we would be celebrating such things; after all, we can get lemonade in winter now! This might be a contribution to what I’ve seen as a Neopagan backlash against more modern traditions, and being so removed from the picking of the berries and the tending of the tomatoes and corn, I’m not so sure I blame them. In a modern religion based on ancient ways, I think a Romanesque approach might be wise: The city of Rome had many people who were not agricultural in the least, but in the Roman calendar, the seasons were still closely guarded and celebrated, for in those seasons lay the survival of the entire civilization. It is still so today, and some recognize that. Others, though, so far removed from the agricultural scene, have forgotten, even despite the iconic reminders right in front of them, as shown above.

Bealtainne was a time of the lighting of the bonfires, and the cattle would then be driven through the smoke to bless them for the coming summer. Why was this done? To promote increase. To combat disease and promote high volumes of milk and cheese, so that the people would be well-fed, especially the warriors. I think a lot of people forget that the early Irish people were fighters, who often raided each other for their cattle. Being well-fed, therefore, was a requirement. Also during Bealtainne, those that could grow crops were more apt to plant in the British Isles, whereas the mainland was likely to have already tilled and planted, being farther south.

An increase is seen even in the festival aspect of this time of year. At this time period, more people are apt to brave the weather and come to a festival, or to marry (I cannot count the number of May weddings I know of!), or to attend another such type of event. Parades and block parties are all over the papers starting a little before Memorial Day. Even our own group saw a radical increase this year at Bealtainne: 34 attendees! I was impressed. And more than a little scared, considering I was the officiant that day, but I am very happy that everyone seemed to have a good time.

The blessings from the Gods were all a show of increase this Bealtainne, letting us know that they would be present, that we could continue to come together, and that we would be aided in the problems we faced. This was a wonderful omen, I thought. Of course, I also got an increase of sunburn, but that’s okay.

It was wonderful being able to celebrate the increase of summer. I’m hoping that our next ritual, Midsummer, grants similar blessings.

There are strong pieces of culture in all these games, hidden for those that wish to look. The greater number of attackers versus defenders, the goal of capture or escape, and the method of capturing pieces all bespeak reenactments of ancient battles, a major part of life in that time period. The positioning of the attackers around the defenders is a noticeable difference from our modern chess games, which have all one’s pieces start on one side of the board. One can imagine in the Hnefatafl version four Viking ships surrounding a village to capture the king for ransom. In ADF spirituality, all this is important, not because we’re interested in war and battles, but because of the link to the type of culture that conceived of and produced this game. Even if Fidchell is not a Tafl variant, one can imagine Cuchulain studying one of these boards, determining how to strike in order to win. The ability to win at such games was considered to show an uncommonly sharp mind in Ireland, and the Norse sagas mention several times a particular Tafl-player’s prowess being indicative of a strong character. Wisdom and intelligence were as prized as a strong arm and keen wit.

We are uncertain if Tafl was used as divination, as there is no evidence for or against the practice, but we know that Fidchell was sometimes used for this purpose. Sometimes the battle on the Fidchell board played out upon the battlefield; sometimes, the losses of battle caused the Fidchell game to play itself. Separation of the game from the ancient Celtic religion was about as possible as separating farming or spinning yarn – that is to say, everything was both a physical and a spiritual act. In the playing of these cultural games of skill, we can tap into the cultural awareness of that time period; moreover, we can become aware ourselves of the spiritual mindset of those ancient players, that even in play, their world-view was closely considered. Magic was powerful in the Celtic and Germanic mindsets, and manifested sometimes in very mundane ways, such as the pieces on a Tafl board.

I’m thinking of making a set of Tafl boards for SBGH, to use at the Lughnasadh games and other feasting times. The chance to enjoy a cultural game to keep us in the mindset of our ancestors is just too good to pass up.

Neopagans seem to generally have a love of all things artistic. Whether it be poetry or prose, literature holds a special place in our hearts, especially the Neopagans in ADF. Music pulls us deep within the sense of community that we seek together, much in the same way an old hymn sung on the hill where it was written can bring together disparate tourists. There is something deeper than Christianity, deeper than Paganism, or indeed any expression of faith in our use of the arts.

Rituals employing poetry, drama, or music, or a combination of these, seem to me to have a stronger pull to them; they seem more real and seem to have more energy to them. Are the Gods more pleased with artistic expression than simple rote? Perhaps, but it might also be likely that these elements, this artistry that we place within our rituals are a conduit to the higher and the unseen powers of the world, something that makes it easier to connect to and speak with the Gods and the spirits. For the world of spirit is a world of the unseen, the emotional and the logical both, and moreover the mysterious and irrational. Some things can be better explained through song than through paragraphs.

No ritual, in my mind, is complete without the connection to and acknowledgment of the Gods and spirits. I have attended many rituals, some with Gods invoked, some with Gods invited, some without Gods at all, but the ones that included the spirit world as a true and real entity, Gods or not, were the ones that truly had the most weight with me. Sometimes, a rite is great not because of its poetry or its artistry, but because of its inclusion of the spirits and its power to connect to that world. In fact, one might think of it as a prerequisite to being a good ritual.

People may or may not include the time after a worship service as part of it, but I think our ADF groves’ traditions of having a pot luck after ritual is as important as the ritual itself. At the ancient days of feasting in the Indo-European traditions, the holidays would last literally days, including several rites, feasting, and fellowship with the community. As Neopagans become more numerous, I think we yearn for a sense of that in the modern day, as well; community feasting, therefore, brings the attendees of a rite even closer together, as they chat about things that are important to them. At this most recent ritual, for example, I heard a number of wonderful conversations happening, from discussing sleep-overs at well-known pagan authors’ places, to telling stories about how one came to Neopaganism, to bursting into song from almost out of nowhere, which I know myself and several others of the protogrove enjoyed listening to. We talked about language and poetry and modern politics; it doesn’t matter what we talked about, but that we spoke to one another and formed the bonds of friendship and fellowship that I feel are essential in any religious community.

And now, perhaps, I shall end with what I am “supposed” to, but it comes from this musing and the considerations above: I am extremely glad to have come to Denver, met with the people of ADF here, and had a wonderful year of rituals so far. I hope that we continue to have these great rituals for years to come; rituals that honor the Gods and spirits and our symbiotic relationships with them; rituals that continue to have great poetry, song, and insight within them. Oh, and the WONDERFUL food and discussions afterwards!!!

-G

Myths of the seasons were quite common in the ancient world. I think it is wrong to say that all myths could be ascribed to natural phenomena, though many authors, such as H.A. Guerber, disagree. However, some natural events were chronicled in the annals of analogy, a way for those before us to share and entertain with the wonders of the world.

I’d like to share something from Oak Leaves #44, albeit in reduced form: Brighid and the Cailleach. The goddess Bright Brighid was imprisoned by the Cailleach for many years. She was kept in the bleak mountain passes of the north lands in perpetual cold, and every day she’d walk the passes, and the winter landscape would grow weaker for moments as she passed. One day, her passing was observed by a young man called the Mac Oc, the Cailleach’s own son, who swore to free the gentle creature, and began a year-long courtship. On the final day of winter, the two resolved to run away, and the Mac Oc covered Brighid’s face with her cloak (or mantle) so that the land’s enchantment, which kept her imprisoned, could not snare her. The Cailleach was soon on their heels, following the great trail of flowers that sprang at Brighid’s feet as she passed. However, the old crone was soon taken by the land spirits, who rebelled against the winter she brought: as she rested upon a boulder, she was pulled inside and turned to stone. Thus Brighid and the Mac Oc were able to live and love together, amid the spring that heralded her passing.

Another myth to share is the Greek myth of Demeter and Persephone. There are many versions, but this is the one I’m most familiar with: Hades found Persephone playing in the fields one day, grabbed her, and made off to his underworld kingdom to take her as bride. Demeter searched everywhere for a way to enter Hades and retrieve her daughter, but while she searched and mourned, the earth languished under the lack of her care – winter had come. Hermes was finally sent to retrieve Persephone, but came to find the young lady had fallen head over heels for the dark lord of the underworld. She also had eaten six seeds of a pomegranate. So, while she was retrieved and returned to her mother, giving the blessing of spring to the earth, she returns every six months to Hades’ arms, and her mother Demeter resumes mourning until she returns.

There are other Norse examples that I hope will be shared on this blog soon; however, a central theme surrounds these two examples above, that of change from one state of being to another. Before the spring, winter comes, and the change from the dark half of the year to the light is apparent in both the Celtic and the Greek. Spring myths are about change and renewal, a switch in focus from the cold winter months to the warming and longer days that lead eventually to summer. In the Celtic example above, the winter crone holds all, including the goddess who heralds springtime, in an icy embrace, but in the Greek, winter is the result of a goddess neglecting her responsibility to the earth. Yet both transition to spring time with the arrival of a goddess of brightness, goodness, and light. It is her arrival that marks the certain end of a wintry world, and encourages the flowers (such as the snowdrop) to grow from the renewed soil.

Myths are a way to record the spiritual drama of transitions, and the myths involving the return to spring are, to me, especially compelling. For me, this is one of the primary reasons mythic thinking is still relevant and helpful to modern minds.

Neopaganism is in turns a very personal and a very social form of religion. In the personal arena, there is a lot less guidance and (dare I say) dogma to usher those new to the religion in a spiritually profitable direction. There are few elders in the religion compared to others, which gives rise to a lot of self-initiation, self-dedication, and even self-declaration. In such an environment, we become free to make our own choices and do our own research on how to believe and proceed with that belief. Individuality is cherished rather than alienated; self-reflection and meditation are encouraged as paths to growth. Of course, the downside is, we have our share of “gurus” and “masters” of the art that do more harm than good to this set of religions.

On the social side of things, in the days when the religions we currently emulate and draw inspiration from were practiced, religion was a matter for the tribe and for the nation. People came together at regular intervals to mark the passing of the seasons, give offerings, and ask for boons of the Gods. In many ways, this need for interaction with others who believe similarly to ourselves has not diminished. Some Wiccan covens try to collect in groups of 9-13 members. Neopagans of many types and stripes attend Pagan Pride Day, local events, even conventions half a world away. Many pagans learn that there is a viable path other than a Judeo/Christian/Muslim one by talking with other pagans. Some only realize that the religion is right for them after attending and experiencing Neopagan ritual (a few close friends of mine admit to this).

One’s world-view and belief system is something that can tie us together in a way few other social gatherings can, whether that gathering be a full ritual or a simple meeting over coffee and biscuits. Sometimes, one can feel closer to the others that are in a group due to like-mindedness, or even – as Neopaganism has shown – just open-mindedness to others’ beliefs. Sometimes, we learn something new that jives with how we believe, something we then incorporate into our own system. Sometimes, we just enjoy being together as a community.

Community is also why we are continuing to progress towards provisional grove status in the ADF. Going from a protogrove to a provisional one is a big step. There are several steps a protogrove needs to go through, including writing bylaws, registering with the federal government, gathering members, and so on. Membership is a big thing; if members move away or quit attending, the grove can lose its provisional status. Provisional is also not our final step in the process – to become a fully-chartered grove requires even more commitment on the part of the grove’s members.

Commitment is the drive for our next goal; I believe everyone on the Protogrove’s Executive Council shares a desire to see our grove prosper, and more importantly, see our mission of public worship for pagans continue to be realized. It’s nice that not all of those who come to rite are necessarily ADF members: it goes right back to being orthopraxic rather than orthodoxic. It doesn’t matter that I might be Celto-Norse and another participant might be Wiccan, but we can find common ground in our discussions and in ritual, and we can agree to disagree on more debatable points of interest. What matters to me is that the community comes together, despite attempts (real or imagined) to drive wedges based on differences of belief between us.

Our next meet-up is at the Gypsy House Cafe on Marion and E. 13th, and we should be discussing – among other things – the myths of the spring that inspire our community and sometimes bring us together. I’m looking forward to it as another chance for our community to enjoy each other’s company and perhaps to attract more members that are interested in ADF.

On other topics, as some of you may know, we are getting the work done to become a provisional grove. This will mean that we have better non-profit status and official recognition as a “church” in government parlance. A big hold up has been bylaws, because the council has wanted them to be perfect. While I’m sure that we have seemed to move ‘as fast as a speeding oak,’ we are now a week away from having them in a form that can be submitted to Mother Grove.

We hope that as many of you all that can will join us at our meet up on the 20th, be there or be square, which is the worse thing you can be in a circle oriented religion.

Happy Imbolg, and May Bridghid Bless You

Again, thank you to everyone who came to the ritual! It wouldn’t've been as good without you.

-Alyssa

Eostre will be held at Berkely Lake Park in Denver, Colorado, on W. 46th just off of Sheridan, by a trio of trees near a picnic table. The parking lot is between Yates and Xavier St. The date is March 20th, gather time is 2:30PM, ritual time is 3:30PM.

This is an outdoor ritual, and we’ll have it rain, sun, or snow, so please dress for the weather. We will have our customary potluck feast after ritual, and any contributions that cater to any dietary needs are welcome. There will be a portion of the ritual where we give offerings to the Gods, the Ancestors, and the Land Spirits. Any songs, poems, edibles, physical tokens, or other public-appropriate offerings are welcome to be given during this time, but please have them prepared beforehand. Keep in mind, any physical tokens will be broken or burnt, and any food will be discarded-they will not be returned once given.

See everyone there!

For other info, including a map, please visit http://www.silverbranchgoldenhorn.org/schedule.html.

-Alyssa