Earth-Based Shaminism
|
Summer Solstice
Summer Solstice By W. T. S. Thackara
For most ancient peoples, the sky was compass, calendar, and clock. Throughout history, religious celebrations and sacred rites have been connected with one or another of the solstices and equinoxes. Christmas, for example, is associated with the winter solstice (a three-day period when the sun appears to "stand still" before commencing its northward journey). December 25 was celebrated by the ancient Mithraic religion as the birthday of its savior, also by the old Romans as natalis solis invicti — the "birthday of the unconquered sun." The Hopis of the American Southwest hold a winter solstice ceremony timed by their Sun Watchers. Its names mean "they come out" (Soya'la) — referring to the kachinas, the guardian cosmic spirits who protect and guide the Hopi through their seasons of life — and "the sun turns back" (Ta'wa A'hoyi), symbolizing the beginning and renewal of life and growth.
The equinoxes occur midway between the solstices, when the sun crosses over the celestial equator, and day and night are of equal length. Both the Jewish Passover and the Christian Easter are connected with the spring equinox, the actual day of celebration being determined by lunar phases. At the springtime the ancient Athenians celebrated the lesser Mysteries at Agrai, and six months later at Eleusis they held their greater Mysteries, which dealt primarily with death and the postmortem journey of the soul. Also near the autumnal equinox is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year festival, followed ten days later by Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement for sins of the previous year.
SOLSTICES AND EQUINOXES
Midsummer ceremonies and festivals were held at henges and sacred sites throughout Britain and northern Europe, and the Medicine Wheel and Sun Dance rite of the North American Plains are also connected with the summer solstice.
These celebrations are but a sampling, which naturally prompts us to ask why they were linked to astronomical events: the result of earth's axis inclined in relation to its annual orbit around the sun. Part of the reason is that ancient cultures did not have the marked distinction between sacred and secular that we have today. At a more philosophical level, these rites were originally designed to aid them to reestablish or strengthen their connection with their divine source, to live in harmony with the cosmic ecosystem, and thus to participate consciously with the intelligent powers that create and sustain the universe.
Summer dawn cairn alignments at Big Horn Medicine Wheel, Wymoming (John A. Eddy, native American Astronomy; Aveni ed.)
For them, nature was the visible expression of divinity at work, and the ancient mythographers frequently associated the sky with universal mind or intelligence, which orders the structure and behavior of stars, planets, and all the creatures inhabiting them. The universe itself was considered to be a living entity in which all beings, including ourselves, were rooted, and drew life, meaning, and substance. For example, in Beyond the Blue Horizon, Dr. E. C. Krupp, director of the Griffith Observatory, writes about the Desana Indians of the Amazonian rain forest, a "primitive" people "who still look at the sky and still talk about it":
They speak of the sky as a brain. [It] is bicameral, divided into two hemispheres, and the fissure between them is the Milky Way. . . . Their brains must resonate with the sky, must dance to the same tune, for consciousness to exist . . . . They are guided by their own experience and by the insights of their shamans, whose direct, mystical experiences with the spirit world provide valuable understanding and power. The Desana shamans say they go to the sky for some of this power and knowledge. . . . . . . One of its fundamental attributes — and the Desana are explicit about this — is a link between the brain and the sky. What the Desana mean by that link is the relationship they see between the celestial cycles that order time and the world, and their use of those cycles to organize their lives and response to the natural environment. . . . They and other people all over the world, since the stone age, have seen a correlation between what takes place in the sky and what is happening on earth and in their lives. — pp. 3-4 While each religious system and culture usually celebrates only one or two of the solstices or equinoxes, modern theosophical tradition links the four and shows their relationship to one another as major junction points in our evolutionary cycle. The writings of H. P. Blavatsky contain a few hints about the seasons (cf. The Secret Doctrine 1:639), but G. de Purucker gives a fuller development of this theme, most notably in The Four Sacred Seasons, relating it to the goals of life and the initiatory program of the Mystery schools.
Our English word initiation comes from the Latin root initiare, meaning "to begin." Initiation is also the word most frequently used to translate the equivalent Greek term, telete, which means "a finishing," a "making perfect" for that particular level of awakenment or insight. The sacred seasons accordingly mark beginnings and endings, each representing the close of an old and the opening of a new chapter in the larger continuum of our individual and collective evolutionary experience. The basic purpose of the initiatory Mysteries — which find their analog in the sacraments and liturgical practices of the Christian churches — is progressively to align oneself more closely with the god within. All real initiations are preceded by instruction, training, discipline, and purification. Taken together these are said to comprise the lesser Mysteries — the necessary foundation and rehearsal of the greater Mysteries, which lead to the mystic union with our divine source.
The greatest of the initiations, as the world's religious traditions suggest, occur at the solstices and equinoxes.
These four seasons in their cycle are symbolic of the four chief events of progress of initiation: first, that of the Winter Solstice, which event is also called the Great Birth, when the aspirant brings to birth the god within him and for a time at least becomes temporarily at one therewith in consciousness and in feeling; . . . the birth of the mystic Christos. Then, second, comes the period or event of esoteric adolescence at the Spring Equinox, when in the full flush of the victory gained at the Winter Solstice, and with the marvelous inner strength and power that come to one who has thus achieved, the aspirant enters upon the greatest temptation, except one, known to human beings, and prevails; and this event may be called the Great Temptation. . . . Then, third, comes the event of the Summer Solstice, at which time the neophyte or aspirant must undergo, and successfully prevail over, the greatest temptation known to man just referred to; and if he so prevail, which means the renouncing of all chance of individual progress for the sake of becoming one of the Saviors of the world, he then takes his position as one of the stones in the Guardian Wall. Thereafter he dedicates his life to the service of the world without thought of guerdon or of individual progress — it may be for aeons — sacrificing himself spiritually in the service for all that lives. For this reason the initiation at this season of the year has been called the Great Renunciation. . . . in the initiation of the Autumnal Equinox the neophyte or aspirant passes beyond the portals of irrevocable death, and returns among men no more. . . . The Autumnal Equinox is likewise straitly and closely related to the investigation, during the rites and trials of the neophyte, of the many and varied and intricate mysteries connected with death. For these and for other reasons it has been called the Great Passing. — The Four Sacred Seasons, pp. 42-5 It is easy to think of all this as too mystical, lofty, and remote from our day-to-day lives. Yet, viewing the natural cycle of birth, growth, maturity, and passing, one can see the very short distance between concept and application. Following the analogy of nature, I find it helpful to think of the solstices as turning points and the equinoxes as crossing points. Winter represents a turning away from the darkness of selfishness and ignorance towards the light of charity and spiritual perception. In one sense it symbolizes the birth, or rebirth, of the solar element in our nature as our guiding light in life.
The spring "cross over" may be seen as an opportunity to surmount the trials and temptations of our adolescence, both physical and spiritual, and to become self-reliant — more fully cognizant of and responsive to the inner and outer promptings of our divine center. In spring all nature seems to be trying to infill itself with the creative life force, to achieve wholeness and balance. With fall, it is natural to think of harvest: to reap, store, and assimilate its fruits, to let go of the past, and prepare for the future.
Coming back to the summer solstice — when the sun stands stronger, higher, and longer than at any other period of the year — one finds inspiration in the Great Renunciation, or what could be called the "bodhisattva" initiation. In Buddhism, a bodhisattva is a person on the path to buddhahood who has awakened a degree of wisdom — bodhisattva means "one whose essence is wisdom." In this sense anyone who strives for enlightenment, who acts from his innermost essence, or wisdom and compassion, is to some extent a bodhisattva. The highest example is one who has earned the right to the eons-long bliss of nirvana but, choosing from the very law of his being, renounces it for a more noble objective: the eons-long task of working for the enlightenment and happiness of all.
The summer turning point in this sense represents a pivotal decision about evolutionary progress and fulfillment, in which all of us may participate. Do we "stand still" and stay awhile to help? Or have we become so energized by our aspirations that we cannot help but jump orbit into a more distant realm, more isolated from the needs of the world? As I see it, renunciation is a paradox. We turn away from personal spiritual progress, but in so doing we actually identify more closely with spirit. Everything hangs on motive: if our decision is made with a view to deferred benefit — a loftier nirvana, rank in heaven, or some other lordship — we instantly nullify the act because we have personalized it. Our daily life presents us with innumerable opportunities to act from compassion and self-forgetfulness, and hopefully we do this wisely. To the degree we succeed, we discover the meaning of renouncing the fruit of action, and perhaps something of the quality of experience undergone by the great ones at this summer solstice period. Surely they have no aspiration to be world saviors, but are so precisely because of the simplicity of their decision and what naturally flows from it. Similarly, by detaching ourselves from personal motive as far as possible, our highest wisdom and love can exert themselves — and the world around us will be benefited accordingly.
Simply put, summer symbolizes maturity and ripening judgment, when our natural interest turns to the needs of others. This solstice period is perhaps the sacred season to which we can most easily relate, because altruism and service is something all of us understand.
For most ancient peoples, the sky was compass, calendar, and clock. Throughout history, religious celebrations and sacred rites have been connected with one or another of the solstices and equinoxes. Christmas, for example, is associated with the winter solstice (a three-day period when the sun appears to "stand still" before commencing its northward journey). December 25 was celebrated by the ancient Mithraic religion as the birthday of its savior, also by the old Romans as natalis solis invicti — the "birthday of the unconquered sun." The Hopis of the American Southwest hold a winter solstice ceremony timed by their Sun Watchers. Its names mean "they come out" (Soya'la) — referring to the kachinas, the guardian cosmic spirits who protect and guide the Hopi through their seasons of life — and "the sun turns back" (Ta'wa A'hoyi), symbolizing the beginning and renewal of life and growth.
The equinoxes occur midway between the solstices, when the sun crosses over the celestial equator, and day and night are of equal length. Both the Jewish Passover and the Christian Easter are connected with the spring equinox, the actual day of celebration being determined by lunar phases. At the springtime the ancient Athenians celebrated the lesser Mysteries at Agrai, and six months later at Eleusis they held their greater Mysteries, which dealt primarily with death and the postmortem journey of the soul. Also near the autumnal equinox is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year festival, followed ten days later by Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement for sins of the previous year.
SOLSTICES AND EQUINOXES
Midsummer ceremonies and festivals were held at henges and sacred sites throughout Britain and northern Europe, and the Medicine Wheel and Sun Dance rite of the North American Plains are also connected with the summer solstice.
These celebrations are but a sampling, which naturally prompts us to ask why they were linked to astronomical events: the result of earth's axis inclined in relation to its annual orbit around the sun. Part of the reason is that ancient cultures did not have the marked distinction between sacred and secular that we have today. At a more philosophical level, these rites were originally designed to aid them to reestablish or strengthen their connection with their divine source, to live in harmony with the cosmic ecosystem, and thus to participate consciously with the intelligent powers that create and sustain the universe.
Summer dawn cairn alignments at Big Horn Medicine Wheel, Wymoming (John A. Eddy, native American Astronomy; Aveni ed.)
For them, nature was the visible expression of divinity at work, and the ancient mythographers frequently associated the sky with universal mind or intelligence, which orders the structure and behavior of stars, planets, and all the creatures inhabiting them. The universe itself was considered to be a living entity in which all beings, including ourselves, were rooted, and drew life, meaning, and substance. For example, in Beyond the Blue Horizon, Dr. E. C. Krupp, director of the Griffith Observatory, writes about the Desana Indians of the Amazonian rain forest, a "primitive" people "who still look at the sky and still talk about it":
They speak of the sky as a brain. [It] is bicameral, divided into two hemispheres, and the fissure between them is the Milky Way. . . . Their brains must resonate with the sky, must dance to the same tune, for consciousness to exist . . . . They are guided by their own experience and by the insights of their shamans, whose direct, mystical experiences with the spirit world provide valuable understanding and power. The Desana shamans say they go to the sky for some of this power and knowledge. . . . . . . One of its fundamental attributes — and the Desana are explicit about this — is a link between the brain and the sky. What the Desana mean by that link is the relationship they see between the celestial cycles that order time and the world, and their use of those cycles to organize their lives and response to the natural environment. . . . They and other people all over the world, since the stone age, have seen a correlation between what takes place in the sky and what is happening on earth and in their lives. — pp. 3-4 While each religious system and culture usually celebrates only one or two of the solstices or equinoxes, modern theosophical tradition links the four and shows their relationship to one another as major junction points in our evolutionary cycle. The writings of H. P. Blavatsky contain a few hints about the seasons (cf. The Secret Doctrine 1:639), but G. de Purucker gives a fuller development of this theme, most notably in The Four Sacred Seasons, relating it to the goals of life and the initiatory program of the Mystery schools.
Our English word initiation comes from the Latin root initiare, meaning "to begin." Initiation is also the word most frequently used to translate the equivalent Greek term, telete, which means "a finishing," a "making perfect" for that particular level of awakenment or insight. The sacred seasons accordingly mark beginnings and endings, each representing the close of an old and the opening of a new chapter in the larger continuum of our individual and collective evolutionary experience. The basic purpose of the initiatory Mysteries — which find their analog in the sacraments and liturgical practices of the Christian churches — is progressively to align oneself more closely with the god within. All real initiations are preceded by instruction, training, discipline, and purification. Taken together these are said to comprise the lesser Mysteries — the necessary foundation and rehearsal of the greater Mysteries, which lead to the mystic union with our divine source.
The greatest of the initiations, as the world's religious traditions suggest, occur at the solstices and equinoxes.
These four seasons in their cycle are symbolic of the four chief events of progress of initiation: first, that of the Winter Solstice, which event is also called the Great Birth, when the aspirant brings to birth the god within him and for a time at least becomes temporarily at one therewith in consciousness and in feeling; . . . the birth of the mystic Christos. Then, second, comes the period or event of esoteric adolescence at the Spring Equinox, when in the full flush of the victory gained at the Winter Solstice, and with the marvelous inner strength and power that come to one who has thus achieved, the aspirant enters upon the greatest temptation, except one, known to human beings, and prevails; and this event may be called the Great Temptation. . . . Then, third, comes the event of the Summer Solstice, at which time the neophyte or aspirant must undergo, and successfully prevail over, the greatest temptation known to man just referred to; and if he so prevail, which means the renouncing of all chance of individual progress for the sake of becoming one of the Saviors of the world, he then takes his position as one of the stones in the Guardian Wall. Thereafter he dedicates his life to the service of the world without thought of guerdon or of individual progress — it may be for aeons — sacrificing himself spiritually in the service for all that lives. For this reason the initiation at this season of the year has been called the Great Renunciation. . . . in the initiation of the Autumnal Equinox the neophyte or aspirant passes beyond the portals of irrevocable death, and returns among men no more. . . . The Autumnal Equinox is likewise straitly and closely related to the investigation, during the rites and trials of the neophyte, of the many and varied and intricate mysteries connected with death. For these and for other reasons it has been called the Great Passing. — The Four Sacred Seasons, pp. 42-5 It is easy to think of all this as too mystical, lofty, and remote from our day-to-day lives. Yet, viewing the natural cycle of birth, growth, maturity, and passing, one can see the very short distance between concept and application. Following the analogy of nature, I find it helpful to think of the solstices as turning points and the equinoxes as crossing points. Winter represents a turning away from the darkness of selfishness and ignorance towards the light of charity and spiritual perception. In one sense it symbolizes the birth, or rebirth, of the solar element in our nature as our guiding light in life.
The spring "cross over" may be seen as an opportunity to surmount the trials and temptations of our adolescence, both physical and spiritual, and to become self-reliant — more fully cognizant of and responsive to the inner and outer promptings of our divine center. In spring all nature seems to be trying to infill itself with the creative life force, to achieve wholeness and balance. With fall, it is natural to think of harvest: to reap, store, and assimilate its fruits, to let go of the past, and prepare for the future.
Coming back to the summer solstice — when the sun stands stronger, higher, and longer than at any other period of the year — one finds inspiration in the Great Renunciation, or what could be called the "bodhisattva" initiation. In Buddhism, a bodhisattva is a person on the path to buddhahood who has awakened a degree of wisdom — bodhisattva means "one whose essence is wisdom." In this sense anyone who strives for enlightenment, who acts from his innermost essence, or wisdom and compassion, is to some extent a bodhisattva. The highest example is one who has earned the right to the eons-long bliss of nirvana but, choosing from the very law of his being, renounces it for a more noble objective: the eons-long task of working for the enlightenment and happiness of all.
The summer turning point in this sense represents a pivotal decision about evolutionary progress and fulfillment, in which all of us may participate. Do we "stand still" and stay awhile to help? Or have we become so energized by our aspirations that we cannot help but jump orbit into a more distant realm, more isolated from the needs of the world? As I see it, renunciation is a paradox. We turn away from personal spiritual progress, but in so doing we actually identify more closely with spirit. Everything hangs on motive: if our decision is made with a view to deferred benefit — a loftier nirvana, rank in heaven, or some other lordship — we instantly nullify the act because we have personalized it. Our daily life presents us with innumerable opportunities to act from compassion and self-forgetfulness, and hopefully we do this wisely. To the degree we succeed, we discover the meaning of renouncing the fruit of action, and perhaps something of the quality of experience undergone by the great ones at this summer solstice period. Surely they have no aspiration to be world saviors, but are so precisely because of the simplicity of their decision and what naturally flows from it. Similarly, by detaching ourselves from personal motive as far as possible, our highest wisdom and love can exert themselves — and the world around us will be benefited accordingly.
Simply put, summer symbolizes maturity and ripening judgment, when our natural interest turns to the needs of others. This solstice period is perhaps the sacred season to which we can most easily relate, because altruism and service is something all of us understand.
- From Sunrise magazine, June/July 1998; copyright © 1998 Theosophical University Press
Candlemas, Feb 2 the Cross-Quarter Hinge
February 2 is one of the great cross-quarter days which make up the wheel of the year. It falls midway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox and in many traditions is considered the beginning of spring.Awakening the Ground
In Western Europe, this was the time for preparing the fields for the first planting. Even in Seattle, you can begin turning over and enriching the soil in anticipation of the first sowing in March. Pamela Berger has written a book, The Goodess Obscured: Transformation of the Grain Protectress from Goddess to Saint, about the rituals celebrated at this time of year, when the ground is first awakened and the seed placed in the belly of the earth. This is a significant moment in a community which depends on the earth for sustenance. The fields were purified and offerings were made to the goddess.
This medieval Anglo-Saxon plowing charm, recorded by Berger, was said by the farmer while cutting the first furrow.
Whole be thou Earth
Mother of men.
In the lap of God,
Be thous as-growing.
Be filled with fodder
For fare-need of men.
The farmer then took a loaf of bread, kneaded it with milk and holy water and laid it under the first furrow, saying:
Acre full fed,
Bring forth fodder for men!
Blossoming brightly,
Blessed become;
And the God who wrought the ground,
Grant us the gifts of growing,
That the corn, all the corn,
may come unto our need.
The promises of the return of the light and the renewal of life which were made at the winter solstice are now becoming manifest. It's the dawn of the year. It's the time when a woman who is pregnant begins showing. It's time to creep out of the hibernation of winter, cautiously, like the Ground Hog who supposedly emerges on this day to check his shadow. It's the time of germination. This is a traditional time for new beginnings. Covens of witches usually initiate new members at this time.
St. Brigid, the Grain GoddessIn Ireland, this holy day is called Imbolc and begins at sunset on February 1 continuing through sunset February 2nd. There are several different derivations offered for the name Imbolc: from Ol-melc (ewe's milk) because the ewes are lactating at this time, from Im-bolg (around the belly) in honor of the swelling belly of the earth goddess, and from folcaim (I wash) because of the rites of purification which took place at this time. All of these explanations capture the themes of this festival.
February 1st is the feast day of St. Brigid, who began her life as a pagan goddess and ended up a Christian saint. She was a fire and fertility goddess. In her temple at Kildare, vestal virgins tended an eternal fire. On her feast day, her statue was washed in the sea (purification) and then carried in a cart through the fields surrounded by candles.
The legends about the goddess, Brigid, gradually became associated with (the somewhat spurious) Saint Brigid who founded the first convent in Ireland (where else?) at Kildare.
To celebrate St. Brigid's day, people put out a loaf of bread on the windowsill for the Saint and an ear of corn for her white cow, offerings for the grain goddess like the loaf buried in the first furrow. A small quantity of special seeds are mixed with those to be sown. Wheat stalks are woven into X-shaped crosses to serve as charms to protect home from fire and lightning.
In the HIghlands, women dress the corn doll or last sheaf (from Lammas or the autumn equinox) in a bridal gown and put her in a basket, which is called the Bride's bed. A wand, candle or other phallic object is laid across her and Bride is invited to come, for her bed is ready.
Purification
The Catholic Church, as it was wont to do, found an opportunity to superimpose a Christian holiday on this pagan festival. Jewish women went through a purification ceremony 40 days after the birth of a male child (80 days after the birth of a female child). So in the 6th century (according to J.C. Cooper in The Aquarian Dictionary of Festivals,February 2 (which falls 39 days after Christmas) was declared the feast of the Purification of Mary. The theme of purification remained a link between the two holy days.
Like many miraculous babies, Jesus is recognized as a future hero from the time of his infancy. One of these recognitions occurs in Luke 2:21 when he is being presented in the temple (at the time of Mary's purification ) and a holy man, Simeon, recognizes him as the Christ, calling him “a light for revelation.”
This is the ostensible reason given for the custom of bringing candles to church to be blessed by the priest on February 2nd. They are then take home where they serve as talismans and protections from all sorts of disasters. This custom is the origin for the name Candle-mass. In Hungary, according to Dorothy Spicer in The Book of Festivals, February 2nd is called Blessing of the Candle of the Happy Woman (Gyertyazsenteio Boidog Asszony). In Poland, it is called Mother of God Who Saves Us From Thunder (Swieto Matki Boskiej Gromnicznej).
Actually, this festival has always been associated with fire. In ancient Armenia (writes Spicer), this was the date of the pagan spring festival in honor of Mihr, the God of fire. Originally, fires were built in his honor in open places and a lantern was lit which burned in the temple throughout the year. When Armenia became Christian, the fires were built in church courtyards instead. People danced about the flames, jumped over them and carried home embers to kindle their own fires from the sacred flames.
Since Lent can sometimes begin as early as February 4th, some Candlemas customs became associated with Shrove Tuesday (Mardi Gras) and the beginning of Lent, which is a time of purification.
Celebrating CandlemasCandles and Christmas Greens
The main element of your decorating scheme for Candlemas is fairly obvious: candles. You can gather all the candles in your home in one room and light them from one central candle. Or place a candle in each window (but watch them carefully).
Candlemas is one of the traditional times for taking down Christmas decorations (Twelfth Night, on January 6th, is the other). If you are very careful (because they are tinder dry), you can burn them. Or, better yet, return them to the earth mother by using them for compost or mulch.
Certain foods are traditional for Candlemas, including crepes, pancakes and cakes, all grain-based foods. Pancakes and crepes are considered symbols of the sun because of their round shape and golden color.
If you have a fireplace, clean out your hearth and then light a new fire. Sit around the fire and reflect on your hopes for the coming year. What do you hope to accomplish? What are you passionate about? What seeds do you wish to plant? Discuss these ideas with others or write them down in a journal but make them concrete in some way so that on Lammas (August 2nd, the festival of the first harvest), you can look back to see what progress you’ve made.
Brigid is the goddess of creative inspiration as well as reproductive fertility. This is a good time for sharing creative work, or, if you don't think of yourself as especially creative, an idea that worked or a plan that materialized. Thank the Goddess for her inspiration, perhaps by dedicating a future work to her.
Making Pledges and Commitments
Since Candlemas is a time of new beginnings, this is a good day to ritually celebrate all things new. Plan a ceremony to name a new baby, officially welcome a new person into a family or plight your troth to your beloved. Make a commitment to a goal (like a New Years resolution): this would be an especially powerful thing to do in a group.
In San Francisco, the Reclaiming Collective sponsors a big public ritual called Brigid, which focuses on political commitment. After acknowledging despair over the events of the past year, the participants reflect on the source of their own power and then make a pledge in front of the community about the work they intend to do during the coming year. During this ritual, the flames in a cauldron represent Brigid's Sacred Flame, the fire of inspiration and passion, while a punch bowl filled with waters gathered from all over the world represents Brigid's Holy Well, the source of healing and purification.
If you plan your own ceremony, use these two powerful symbols: fire and water. For instance, wash your hands and bathe your face in salt water, which is especially good for purification. Light a candle as you make your pledge. Incorporate the third symbol of the holiday — seeds — by planting a seed or bulb in a pot to symbolize your commitment, or by blessing a bowl or packet of seeds that you will plant later.
Purification and Renewal
Have you ever given anything up for Lent? If not, you might consider it. You don’t have to be Catholic to gain spiritual benefits from the voluntary surrender of something you cherish. You can give up something frivolous or something serious, but it should be something you will notice. Folk wisdom says it takes six weeks (or approximately the 40 days of Lent) to establish a new habit, so you may end up with a lifestyle change.
The kids in our neighborhood have eagerly embraced the idea of giving up something for Lent. We know one little girl who gave up TV for Lent and another who gave up catsup, her favorite food. In the last two years, I've given up alcohol and coffee for Lent. Forty days is enough time to notice the difference in the way you feel without a favorite substance or distraction.
Since Candlemas is often considered the beginning of spring, you can perform another ritual act of purification: spring cleaning. This would be a good time to do a thorough house cleaning, sweeping the floors with salt water, banishing the gloom of winter and creating a sparkling, shiny new setting for spring.
Thanks to: http://www.schooloftheseasons.com/candlemas.html . See this site for more information.
In Western Europe, this was the time for preparing the fields for the first planting. Even in Seattle, you can begin turning over and enriching the soil in anticipation of the first sowing in March. Pamela Berger has written a book, The Goodess Obscured: Transformation of the Grain Protectress from Goddess to Saint, about the rituals celebrated at this time of year, when the ground is first awakened and the seed placed in the belly of the earth. This is a significant moment in a community which depends on the earth for sustenance. The fields were purified and offerings were made to the goddess.
This medieval Anglo-Saxon plowing charm, recorded by Berger, was said by the farmer while cutting the first furrow.
Whole be thou Earth
Mother of men.
In the lap of God,
Be thous as-growing.
Be filled with fodder
For fare-need of men.
The farmer then took a loaf of bread, kneaded it with milk and holy water and laid it under the first furrow, saying:
Acre full fed,
Bring forth fodder for men!
Blossoming brightly,
Blessed become;
And the God who wrought the ground,
Grant us the gifts of growing,
That the corn, all the corn,
may come unto our need.
The promises of the return of the light and the renewal of life which were made at the winter solstice are now becoming manifest. It's the dawn of the year. It's the time when a woman who is pregnant begins showing. It's time to creep out of the hibernation of winter, cautiously, like the Ground Hog who supposedly emerges on this day to check his shadow. It's the time of germination. This is a traditional time for new beginnings. Covens of witches usually initiate new members at this time.
St. Brigid, the Grain GoddessIn Ireland, this holy day is called Imbolc and begins at sunset on February 1 continuing through sunset February 2nd. There are several different derivations offered for the name Imbolc: from Ol-melc (ewe's milk) because the ewes are lactating at this time, from Im-bolg (around the belly) in honor of the swelling belly of the earth goddess, and from folcaim (I wash) because of the rites of purification which took place at this time. All of these explanations capture the themes of this festival.
February 1st is the feast day of St. Brigid, who began her life as a pagan goddess and ended up a Christian saint. She was a fire and fertility goddess. In her temple at Kildare, vestal virgins tended an eternal fire. On her feast day, her statue was washed in the sea (purification) and then carried in a cart through the fields surrounded by candles.
The legends about the goddess, Brigid, gradually became associated with (the somewhat spurious) Saint Brigid who founded the first convent in Ireland (where else?) at Kildare.
To celebrate St. Brigid's day, people put out a loaf of bread on the windowsill for the Saint and an ear of corn for her white cow, offerings for the grain goddess like the loaf buried in the first furrow. A small quantity of special seeds are mixed with those to be sown. Wheat stalks are woven into X-shaped crosses to serve as charms to protect home from fire and lightning.
In the HIghlands, women dress the corn doll or last sheaf (from Lammas or the autumn equinox) in a bridal gown and put her in a basket, which is called the Bride's bed. A wand, candle or other phallic object is laid across her and Bride is invited to come, for her bed is ready.
Purification
The Catholic Church, as it was wont to do, found an opportunity to superimpose a Christian holiday on this pagan festival. Jewish women went through a purification ceremony 40 days after the birth of a male child (80 days after the birth of a female child). So in the 6th century (according to J.C. Cooper in The Aquarian Dictionary of Festivals,February 2 (which falls 39 days after Christmas) was declared the feast of the Purification of Mary. The theme of purification remained a link between the two holy days.
Like many miraculous babies, Jesus is recognized as a future hero from the time of his infancy. One of these recognitions occurs in Luke 2:21 when he is being presented in the temple (at the time of Mary's purification ) and a holy man, Simeon, recognizes him as the Christ, calling him “a light for revelation.”
This is the ostensible reason given for the custom of bringing candles to church to be blessed by the priest on February 2nd. They are then take home where they serve as talismans and protections from all sorts of disasters. This custom is the origin for the name Candle-mass. In Hungary, according to Dorothy Spicer in The Book of Festivals, February 2nd is called Blessing of the Candle of the Happy Woman (Gyertyazsenteio Boidog Asszony). In Poland, it is called Mother of God Who Saves Us From Thunder (Swieto Matki Boskiej Gromnicznej).
Actually, this festival has always been associated with fire. In ancient Armenia (writes Spicer), this was the date of the pagan spring festival in honor of Mihr, the God of fire. Originally, fires were built in his honor in open places and a lantern was lit which burned in the temple throughout the year. When Armenia became Christian, the fires were built in church courtyards instead. People danced about the flames, jumped over them and carried home embers to kindle their own fires from the sacred flames.
Since Lent can sometimes begin as early as February 4th, some Candlemas customs became associated with Shrove Tuesday (Mardi Gras) and the beginning of Lent, which is a time of purification.
Celebrating CandlemasCandles and Christmas Greens
The main element of your decorating scheme for Candlemas is fairly obvious: candles. You can gather all the candles in your home in one room and light them from one central candle. Or place a candle in each window (but watch them carefully).
Candlemas is one of the traditional times for taking down Christmas decorations (Twelfth Night, on January 6th, is the other). If you are very careful (because they are tinder dry), you can burn them. Or, better yet, return them to the earth mother by using them for compost or mulch.
Certain foods are traditional for Candlemas, including crepes, pancakes and cakes, all grain-based foods. Pancakes and crepes are considered symbols of the sun because of their round shape and golden color.
If you have a fireplace, clean out your hearth and then light a new fire. Sit around the fire and reflect on your hopes for the coming year. What do you hope to accomplish? What are you passionate about? What seeds do you wish to plant? Discuss these ideas with others or write them down in a journal but make them concrete in some way so that on Lammas (August 2nd, the festival of the first harvest), you can look back to see what progress you’ve made.
Brigid is the goddess of creative inspiration as well as reproductive fertility. This is a good time for sharing creative work, or, if you don't think of yourself as especially creative, an idea that worked or a plan that materialized. Thank the Goddess for her inspiration, perhaps by dedicating a future work to her.
Making Pledges and Commitments
Since Candlemas is a time of new beginnings, this is a good day to ritually celebrate all things new. Plan a ceremony to name a new baby, officially welcome a new person into a family or plight your troth to your beloved. Make a commitment to a goal (like a New Years resolution): this would be an especially powerful thing to do in a group.
In San Francisco, the Reclaiming Collective sponsors a big public ritual called Brigid, which focuses on political commitment. After acknowledging despair over the events of the past year, the participants reflect on the source of their own power and then make a pledge in front of the community about the work they intend to do during the coming year. During this ritual, the flames in a cauldron represent Brigid's Sacred Flame, the fire of inspiration and passion, while a punch bowl filled with waters gathered from all over the world represents Brigid's Holy Well, the source of healing and purification.
If you plan your own ceremony, use these two powerful symbols: fire and water. For instance, wash your hands and bathe your face in salt water, which is especially good for purification. Light a candle as you make your pledge. Incorporate the third symbol of the holiday — seeds — by planting a seed or bulb in a pot to symbolize your commitment, or by blessing a bowl or packet of seeds that you will plant later.
Purification and Renewal
Have you ever given anything up for Lent? If not, you might consider it. You don’t have to be Catholic to gain spiritual benefits from the voluntary surrender of something you cherish. You can give up something frivolous or something serious, but it should be something you will notice. Folk wisdom says it takes six weeks (or approximately the 40 days of Lent) to establish a new habit, so you may end up with a lifestyle change.
The kids in our neighborhood have eagerly embraced the idea of giving up something for Lent. We know one little girl who gave up TV for Lent and another who gave up catsup, her favorite food. In the last two years, I've given up alcohol and coffee for Lent. Forty days is enough time to notice the difference in the way you feel without a favorite substance or distraction.
Since Candlemas is often considered the beginning of spring, you can perform another ritual act of purification: spring cleaning. This would be a good time to do a thorough house cleaning, sweeping the floors with salt water, banishing the gloom of winter and creating a sparkling, shiny new setting for spring.
Thanks to: http://www.schooloftheseasons.com/candlemas.html . See this site for more information.
