What to Offer to the Gods?

March 1, 2023 By John Beckett

Recently, a student in one of my classes had a question about offerings. The student is vegan and they were concerned they might be asked to make offerings of meat, or even perform an animal sacrifice. I’ve heard this question before – like this time, most of them are hypothetical. Gods rarely ask us to offer something that would go against our ethics.

If we lived in a Pagan society where offerings were a regular part of our culture, we’d grow up seeing how this is done on a regular basis. We don’t, so Pagans and polytheists have to learn from what we know about our ancestors, and from each other.

In 2016 I wrote Why We Make Offerings, a post that lists the reasons why offerings are good and necessary. That post stands on its own. In this post, I want to discuss what we offer, and why.

photo by John Beckett — offering wine to the Morrigan

Food and drink

Most offerings to the Gods, to our ancestors, and to other spirits are offerings of food and drink. We make these offerings in part because that’s what our Pagan ancestors did. If it worked for them, it will probably work for us. Or at least, that’s a good place to start.

Offering food and drink is an act of hospitality. If you invited your favorite entertainer or political leader to your house, you would greet them, offer them a comfortable seat, and then offer them something to drink and/or to eat. You would practice good hospitality. This was especially important in ancient times, when traveling was slow and dangerous and accommodations were often difficult to find. Some Gods – notably Zeus and Odin – were known to disguise Themselves as lowly travelers to test the hospitality of Their followers. Those who were generous were rewarded. Those who were not… were not.

Beyond hospitality, the act of sharing food and drink brings people together. It’s why family meals are important, and why church potlucks are a common practice in churches across the religious spectrum. When we share food and drink with our Gods, we proclaim that we are family – we belong to Them.

Offer what’s good

OK, but what kind of food and drink? Traditionally, people have offered what they had, especially what they had that was of value. In our time, libations of beer, wine, and spirits are common. While few things are truly rare in the contemporary West, these are less common than most other drinks. And there is historical precedent for offering them, at least in certain cultures – that the Egyptians offered beer to their Gods is literally carved in stone.

Some deities are known to prefer certain drinks. The Morrigan is known for liking red wine (it’s not hard to guess why) but in my experience, also good whiskey. Cernunnos almost always says “I’ll have what you’re having” – if it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for Him. I have been asked to make special, specific offerings – so far I’ve always been able to do so when asked. But these are one-time things, not on-going demands.

Except…

The Neoplatonists say the Gods need nothing. Whether that’s true or not, it’s pretty obvious that beings who are the mightiest of spirits have no tangible need for token amounts of food and drink. A few years ago I started thinking about this, and decided to try to find something more useful to offer. I was told in no uncertain terms that my weekly libations were to continue as is. The Gods may not need offerings of food and drink, but clearly They want them.

And that’s reason enough to give them.

When you’re asked for something you can’t give

Sometimes, though, we’re asked for something we don’t feel right about giving. Or if we’re not explicitly asked, we feel pressured to do it because that’s what other people are doing.

The first question is whether this is something you can’t give without violating your ethics, or just something you don’t want to give up.

Danu asks very little of me, but in 2014 She asked me to sacrifice something I didn’t really want to give. There were no ethical considerations involved – I just wanted to hang on to it. She insisted. I relented and gave it to Her. Nine years later, I’m still convinced I did the right thing.

On the other hand, if you’re an alcoholic and need to stay away from alcohol, offering wine is a problem. If you’re a vegan, offering meat is a problem.

If you’re asked to offer something that you can’t give, simply say “I can’t do that, will you accept this instead?” In most cases, the answer is yes. If the answer is no, ask what else you can give.

What’s more important, obedience or staying true to your virtues? It is rare that our Gods “test” people with dilemmas like this (though I know it happens on occasion). On the very few occasions I’ve been asked to do something I didn’t think I could honestly do, I said no. As with the special offering to Danu, years later I’m still convinced I did the right thing.

A word on animal sacrifice

I’ve never made an animal sacrifice. I’ve never been asked to make an animal sacrifice. I doubt I ever will. It’s not part of my religion. But I have friends for whom it is an important part of their religion.

I explored this topic in 2014 in a post titled Sacrifice and the Fear of Real Gods. If you’re interested in the practice, go read it.

Our ancestors made animal sacrifices in part because that’s what they had to offer. And also because in the time before refrigeration, eating a whole cow before it spoiled was a challenge even for large families. Sacrifices were essentially a community barbeque with ritual. Offering some to the Gods reinforced the idea that They were part of the wider community.

The people I know who perform animal sacrifices raise their own animals. They’re treated with respect – they have far better lives and far cleaner deaths than the animals who are slaughtered to make your hamburgers and fried chicken. If you feel called to do this, learn to do it right or don’t do it at all.

More modern offerings

Your labor can be an offering, if you ritualize it. Money can be an offering, if it’s intentional and if it represents a true sacrifice and not an attempt to buy favor. Really, anything can be an offering if it’s given in reverence, and in the spirit of hospitality and reciprocity.

The longer I practice and the more I make offerings of food and drink, the more I’m convinced that the ritual involved is what’s really important – at least for us.

What to do with offerings

I discussed this as part of this 2020 post titled Approaching the Gods with Offerings and Service. To summarize, sometimes you leave them on the ground. Sometimes you burn or bury them. Sometimes you consume them yourself – what the Egyptians called “reversion of offerings.”

Just make sure you don’t leave food that will be harmful to animals likely to eat it. I find it disrespectful to put offerings in the trash or pour them down the drain. That presents a hardship for some who live in urban environments, and some people I respect see no problem with it. If in doubt, ask first.

Give what you have

I’m always happy when people ask what they should offer. It shows they’re taking it seriously.

Our Gods are not capricious and They are not cruel. They can be demanding, but in my experience – both firsthand and secondhand – They rarely ask us for offerings we cannot give. If you have nothing else, clean water is almost always an acceptable offering, especially if you’re pouring it on the ground in a libation. This is what I do most times when I’m traveling, though sometimes I’ve found a bottle of wine or whiskey and offered it.

Offerings are one of the core spiritual practices for me, and for many Pagans and polytheists. They help me maintain relationships with my Gods, my ancestors, and other persons in my life.

Offer food and drink.

Offer what you have.

Make offerings to the Gods.

Divination for 2023

January 1, 2023 By John Beckett

0 Comments

This is the sixth consecutive year I’ve done a Tarot reading for the new year. I can only hope this reading is as accurate and as helpful as the 2022 reading.

A reading for an entire year can’t provide a daily planner level of prediction and guidance. What it can do is to provide a sense of direction – a theme for the year. It can’t tell you there’s a lion in the bushes ahead of you, but it can tell you to keep your eyes open – and you might want to pay particular attention to the right side of the path near the ground.

The 2022 reading warned that last year would be another painful year (Ten of Swords). It recommended building and strengthening a strong spiritual foundation (Page of Shields, Six of Shields). Stop fighting foolhardy battles (Knight of Swords) and move on toward what’s coming next (Eight of Cauldrons).

In last year’s divination blog post, I said “the final three cards are brighter – quite literally … the final outcome is the Ace of Wands: the essence of inspiration and new beginnings. Great good can come from this year, but we have to make it through this year first.”

2022 was three years in one for me: a “meh” beginning, a terrible middle, and a pretty good end. During the worst of it, remembering this reading helped me keep going, because I expected things would get better.

And they did.

Will this trend continue into 2023? That’s what we’re going to find out.

The question for this reading was “what does the new year hold for me and mine?” The closer you are to me, the more this reading applies to you. If you do ritual with me in my back yard, it’s very relevant to you. If you follow a Pagan polytheist path, it applies a fair amount. If you’re a casual blog reader, less so. You must decide how much weight to give this reading in your planning for the coming year.

I’m reading with the Celtic Tarot, because it speaks to me and gives me better answers than any other deck. I’m using the Celtic Cross spread, because it’s the best I’ve found for broad readings such as this.

The first thing that stands out is what’s not here. Unlike 2020, 2021, and 2022, the Ten of Swords is nowhere to be seen. That’s usually an unpleasant card – I’m glad to see it gone. The Six of Shields was in all three of those readings – it’s gone too. The sense that we’ve been living in one long Westeros-length winter started shifting for me in late August of last year – that shift pretty much finished by Samhain. This confirms it. Whatever 2023 brings, it’s not going to be more of the same.

But as I’ve said all along, we’re not going back to 2019, or 2015, or to any other year. Time marches on. The first card in this reading, “at the heart of the matter,” is the Wheel of Fortune. Expect more change and more randomness. “Crossing it for good or for ill” is Rebirth (Judgement in Waite-Smith). Again, expect a new and different year.

There are two cards that repeat from 2022. The Nine of Wands moves from “hopes and fears” to “what you seek.” This card shows someone resting after a serious battle. He’s injured, but he’s still standing. We’d like to have a time of rest in the coming year. The Ace of Wands moves from the final outcome to “what is passing.” As much as I’d like for the positive trends of the last four months to continue on into 2023, this says that’s over. What we get is something new.

Will that be better or worse? It will be different.

The Seven of Cauldrons is in the “far past” position. The time for daydreaming has passed – it’s time to act. The Two of Wands indicates that good things are coming, but notice how the figure is looking to the left, away from all the other cards in the reading – and toward the unused cards left in the deck. Long-term goals and plans are good and necessary, but keep your attention on this year’s business.

The only two Shields (Pentacles in Waite-Smith) in this reading are the Four of Shields, indicating we’re feeling a sense of lack and are inclined to be tight-fisted and closed off. But the next card in the reading is the King of Shields in “the environment in which we work” position. This is not the time to hoard what we have – it’s the time manage our resources wisely, for the good of all.

This is also one of those times where the Celtic Tarot differs slightly but significantly from Waite-Smith and other decks in that system. The King of Shields is Math, King of Gwynedd. His foot is resting in the lap of a maiden, here a representative of the land and the sovereignty of the land. The land is the source of his power – and of ours. Maintain your relationships with the land where you are.

Our hopes and fears are represented by the Queen of Swords. We’ve made it through the last three years – we have the confidence to handle whatever the Wheel sends our way – and the wisdom and judgement to handle it well.

The final outcome position is occupied by The Merlin – The Hermit in Waite-Smith. I don’t think this card points toward solitude and introspection so much as it points toward guidance: The Merlin holds his lamp, offering light and wisdom to all who come to him. Remember that he’s a sage, not an evangelist – he imparts his wisdom to those who come to him and request it. He doesn’t preach it from a streetcorner. Do not expect The Merlin to send you a text and tell you what you need to know. You have to seek him out – and then ask for his guidance.

Who are you in this card? Are you The Merlin? Do you need to help others find their way? Or do you need to seek out guidance? Perhaps you’re both?

Pay particular attention to the rising sun on the horizon. This isn’t The Sun or The World – everything’s not going to be great by the end of 2023. But we’re moving toward something better – and that’s very encouraging.

2023 is not going to be 2020 Part IV. It brings different challenges and new opportunities. We have what we need to make this a good year (whatever “good year” means to you) but we must keep our attention on the business at hand. Let us seek wise counsel when we need it, and let us offer wise counsel when it is requested.

Want to learn to read Tarot? I’ll be teaching an online course in Tarot For Divination beginning January 26. Look for all the details in a blog post next Tuesday, January 10.

The Victory of Lugh

July 24, 2022 By John Beckett

I was honored to give the sermon at today’s Sunday service at the Denton Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. I told the story of the Coming of Lugh as the Story For All Ages, then greatly condensed the rest the story of Lugh leading the Tuatha De Danann to victory during this reflection.

Lady Gregory’s version of this story in Gods and Fighting Men runs over 4,000 words, while the University College Cork translation of the Harleian Manuscript runs almost 9,000 words. Both are worth your time to read in full.

Special thanks to Morgan Daimler for their help with the Morrigan’s words “undertake a battle of overthrowing.”

Lughnasadh, on August 1^st, is one of the eight holy days on the modern Pagan Wheel of the Year. It’s also one of the four Celtic Fire Festivals celebrated in pre-Roman Britain, Ireland, and Gaul – the others being Imbolc on February 1^st, Beltane on May 1^st, and Samhain on October 31^st. Lughnasadh was named for the Irish God Lugh, but it was celebrated in honor of his foster mother Tailtiu, who cleared the land of Ireland for planting and then died from exertion. Now I grew up in Tennessee and spent a lot of time in the woods, and I was taught about a time when forests covered the entire eastern portion of North America. So I assumed Tailtiu died from cutting down all the trees. And then I went to Ireland and saw how rocky the land is, especially parts of the west coat of Ireland, which in places looks like a lunar landscape. I think Tailtiu died from moving too many rocks.

In ancient times and in modern ones, Lughnasadh is a harvest festival. In particular, it’s the grain harvest. Until just a few years ago there were still large corn fields on either side of US 380 between Denton and McKinney, where I live. And as I would be driving to our Lughnasadh circle at the end of July or the first of August, the corn was turning brown. Some years the harvest had already started, while in other years it was getting ready to start. I was always struck by how this is one of the few times when the agricultural calendar of Northwestern Europe lines up with that of the American Southwest.

But it would be a mistake to see Lughnasadh as only a harvest festival, either in ancient times or in modern. It was, and is, a celebration of Tailtiu and of Lugh.

Lugh is the Irish God of… of what? That’s a hard question to answer when it comes to the Celtic deities. Their stories weren’t written down until several centuries into the Christian era. The bad side of that is that much of their divinity has been erased from their stories. The good side is that they are usually portrayed as whole persons and not simply as the personification of functions and forces.

Lugh has two epithets – two titles or names. The first is Lugh Samildánach, which means “master of all arts.” The second is Lugh Lámfada – Lugh of the Long Arm, in reference to his fighting skills. He was invincible in battle.

When I talk about Lugh at UU churches I almost always tell the story of the Coming of Lugh, which I told today as the Story For All Ages. While none of us is the master of all arts, most of us are more capable than we think, and it’s helpful to be reminded of that from time to time. Besides, it’s a fun story. But it’s not the only story of Lugh that survives to our time.

Lugh is part of the Tuatha De Danann – the Children of the Goddess Danu. Legend says they came to Ireland from “the north.” Now, if you look at a map, and especially if you look at a globe, you’ll see that the only thing north of Ireland is the ocean. This was the storyteller’s way of saying “we really don’t know where they came from, but they weren’t always here, and then they were.”

When they got to Ireland they found it was ruled by the Fomorians. Some sources describe the Fomorians as monsters, while others make no mention of their appearance but emphasize they were hostile and cruel. At first the two groups got along, but then a new king arose who oppressed the Tuatha De Danann, demanding excessive tributes and high rents.

Can you think of another situation where immigrants were oppressed – or are being oppressed?

The history of humanity is the story of migration and immigration. But for all that we are a wandering species, we rarely do well when others wander into our midst. Those who are already established tend to oppress immigrants. Unless the immigrants have a huge technological advantage, and then the immigrants wipe out the natives. We can do better. We must do better. But that’s another service for another Sunday.

Lugh himself was half Fomorian – his mother was the daughter of the king of the Fomorians. But when he became an adult he decided to join his father’s people – thus the story of his coming to Tara. And that brings us to the next part of Lugh’s story, one that is very relevant to us, here and now.

The Whisper of the Men of Dea

After Lugh had come to Tara, and made his mind up to join with his father’s people against the Fomorians, he began to think and plan. He went to a quiet place in Grellach Dollaid with Nuada and the Dagda, and with Ogma. They called Goibniu and Diancecht to join them.

Lugh and the others stayed there a full year, making their plans together in secret. That way the Fomorians would not know they were going to rise against them till such time as all would be ready, and till they would know what their strength was. And it is from that council the place got the name afterwards of “The Whisper of the Men of Dea.”

They broke up the council and agreed to meet again in three years. Every one of them went his own way, and Lugh went back to his own friends, the sons of Manannan.

A good while after that, King Nuada was holding a great assembly of the people on the Hill of Uisnech, to the west of Tara. They weren’t there long before they saw an armed troop coming towards them from the east, over the plain; and there was a young man in front of the troop, in command over the rest, and the brightness of his face was like the setting sun, so that they were not able to look at him because of its brightness.

When he came nearer they knew it was Lugh Lámhfhada – Lugh of the Long Arm. Along with him were the Riders of the Sídhe from the Land of Promise, and his own foster-brothers, the sons of Manannan.

The troop came to where the King of Ireland was with the Tuatha De Danann, and they welcomed one another.

They were not there long until they saw a surly, slovenly troop coming towards them. They were many of the messengers of the Fomorians, coming to take rent and tribute, and there was such great dread of them on the Tuatha De Danann, that not one of them would do anything of consequence without permission from them.

They came up to where the King of Ireland was with the Riders of the Sídhe, and the king and all the Tuatha De Danann stood up before them. And Lugh of the Long Arm said: “Why do you stand for that surly, slovenly troop, when you did not stand to greet us?”

And the king said “It is needful for us to do it, for if even a child of us did not stand in their presence, they would not hesitate to kill him.”

“By my word,” said Lugh, “there is a great desire coming on me to kill them all.”

“That is a thing would bring harm on us,” said the king, “for we would meet our own death and destruction through it.”

And Lugh replied “it is too long a time you have been under this oppression.”

We are 21^st Century Unitarian Universalists

At this point, it is necessary to state, clearly and unequivocally, that we are 21^st century Unitarian Universalists, not Iron Age Celts. We do not go into battle with swords and spears, and we certainly don’t go into battle with AR-15s. We use “battle” as a metaphor, not as literal reality.

Some of us aren’t comfortable with battle even as a metaphor. I respect that. But I will remind us all of the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “freedom is never given voluntarily by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

I am proud to be part of a congregation with a history of demanding freedom, for ourselves and for others. Not so long ago we looked at 19^th century Unitarian minster Theodore Parker’s words that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” and we saw a true prophecy. Now we see that arc bending backwards.

The arc of the moral universe doesn’t bend on its own. To quote Dr. King again, it bends “through the tireless efforts and persistent work of those willing to be coworkers with God, and without this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation.” Or in our time, with the forces of social regression.

I’m a Druid, not a General. I stand here this morning with no battle plans. But I see oppression increasing, and I remember “The Whisper of the Men of Dea.”

The Battle of Magh Tuireadh

It was not long until the Fomorians came to attack the Tuatha De Danann. Their whole host came this time, led by their king, Balor of the Evil Eye.

Lugh sent the Dagda to spy out the Fomorians, and to delay them till such time as the men of Ireland would come to the battle. So the Dagda went to their camp, and he asked them for a delay. They said he might have that, but they proceeded to make sport of him. The Dagda endured their taunts, then when the time was right he left for home.

And on his way he saw the Morrigan washing herself in the river Unius of Connacht, and one of her feet was on the south of the river and the other on the north of the river. And the Morrigan and the Dagda made a union, and from that day on that place was known as “The Bed of the Couple.”

The Morrigan said “The Fomorians will land at Mag Ceidne. Summon the warriors of Ireland to meet me at the Ford of the Unshin. I will go to the king of the Fomorians, and I will take from him the blood of his heart and the kidneys of his valor.”

Meanwhile, Lugh had called together the Druids, and smiths, and physicians, and law-makers, and chariot-drivers of Ireland, to make plans for the battle. He asked each in turn what they could do to help in the battle. Each responded with their skill, be it magical or mundane, and promised to wield it for the good of the Tuatha De Danann.

Then Lugh spoke to the whole army and put strength in them, so that each had the spirit in him of a king or a great lord.

When the delay was at an end, the Fomorians and the Tuatha De Danann came towards one another till they met at the plain of Magh Tuireadh. And the two armies threatened one another.

Now the Men of Dea had determined not to let Lugh go into the battle, because his death would be a great loss to them. They left nine of their men keeping watch on him. And on the first day none of the kings or princes went into the battle, but only the common fighting men, and they were fierce and proud.

And the battle went on like that from day to day with no great advantage to one or the other side.

And at last the day of the great battle came, and the Fomorians came out of their camp and stood in strong ranks. And not a leader or a fighting man of them was without good armour to his skin, a helmet on his head, a broad spear in his right hand, a heavy sword in his belt, and a strong shield on his shoulder.

The Men of Dea rose up and left Lugh and his nine comrades keeping him, and they went on to the battle. And a hard battle was fought, and for a while it was going against the Tuatha de Danann. Their king Nuada of the Silver Hand, and Macha daughter of Emmass, both fell by Balor, King of the Fomorians. Cassmail fell by Octriallach, and the Dagda got a dreadful wound from a casting spear that was thrown by Ceithlenn, wife of Balor.

But when the battle was going on, Lugh broke away from those that were keeping him, and rushed out to the front of the Men of Dea. And then there was a fierce battle fought, and Lugh heartened the Tuatha De Danann to fight well, so they would not be in bonds any longer. For it was better for them, he said, to die protecting their own country than to live under bonds and under tribute any longer. And he sang a song of courage to them, and the hosts gave a great shout as they went into battle, and then they met together, and each of them began to attack the enemy.

People choose to fight rather than to submit

The text goes on to describe the battle in bloody detail. Just how bloody depends on the squeamishness of the translator – and the Victorians who first translated the Old Irish into modern English were quite squeamish.

War is a terrible thing. People die, and not cleanly. Those who live are changed forever. My brother came home from Vietnam without a scratch, but he died at 64, largely from untreated psychological wounds.

And yet, as we see in Ukraine, time and time again people choose to fight rather than to submit.

We need not – and I argue, we should not – resort to physical violence. But the courage and the determination required to win a military battle are identical to the courage and determination required to win the social and political and economic battles we face here and now.

The battle in this story – the Second Battle of Magh Tuireadh – ended in a rather unique way. That part of the story is also relevant to us here and now.

The end of the battle

Then Lugh and Balor, the King of the Fomorians, met in the battle, and Lugh called out reproaches to him; and there was anger in Balor, and he said to the men that were with him: “Lift up my eyelid till l see this chatterer that is talking to me.” For any who fell under the eye of Balor would immediately die.

Then they raised Balor’s eyelid, but Lugh made a cast of his red spear at him, that brought the eye out through the back of his head, so that it was towards his own army it fell, and three times nine of the Fomorians died when they looked at it.

And if Lugh had not put out that eye when he did, the whole of Ireland would have been burned in one flash. After this, Lugh struck Balor’s head off.

After that it was not a battle any more but a rout, and the Fomorians were beaten back to the sea.

Not what are we fighting against, what are we fighting for?

Sometimes you really can kill a monster by cutting off its head. I’m confident that if Vladimir Putin could be removed, the war in Ukraine would end.

But other times, what we see is not an evil head directing a movement of minions, but a figurehead that for all the damage it does, is only a representative of something deeper and more widespread. Cut off the head and another will take its place, because the conditions that caused the monster to arise are still there. Conditions like fear, hatred, bigotry, and greed.

Here is where I need to pause this ancient Irish story and return to our contemporary Unitarian Universalism. If we do not resist, oppression will continue to grow and the arc of the moral universe will continue bending backwards, away from justice. But our resistance must be grounded in compassion, in courage, in hope, and in love. Our anger is just, but we must not allow our anger to turn into hatred. Otherwise we will become like those who fight crime by putting more and more people in prison without ever doing anything about the conditions that lead to crime in the first place.

Our UU faith teaches compassion and acceptance of everyone. It doesn’t fear diversity, it celebrates diversity. It doesn’t ask us all to follow the same path, but rather to love and support each other as we follow the path that calls to us individually.

In politics and in religion, I like to say “don’t tell me what you’re against – tell me what you’re for.” It is necessary that we fight against what is oppressing us and what is oppressing others. But it is even more important that we fight, and advocate, and live for the good things that make our UU faith so meaningful and helpful to us, and to our world.

Peace comes after victory

After the battle was won, the Morrigan gave out the news of the great victory to the hosts and to the royal heights of Ireland, and she said: “Peace up to the skies, the skies down to earth, the earth under the skies; strength to everyone.”

Then Lugh was made king over the Tuatha De Danann, and it was at Nas he had his court.

Each responded with their skill, be it magical or mundane

For modern Pagans, the stories of our ancestors are not scripture, but they are treasures nonetheless. They are myths, but those who think myths are simply made-up stories don’t understand what a myth is. A myth is a story that tells us who we are, where we come from, and what’s important in life. A myth is a story about things that never were but always are.

Before the Battle of Magh Tuireadh, Lugh asked each in turn what they could do to help. Each responded with their skill, be it magical or mundane, and promised to wield it for the good of all.

Hail Lugh Samildánach – Lugh, Master of All Arts.

Hail Lugh Lámfada – Lugh of the Long Arm.

May your Lughnasadh be fruitful and blessed.

Benediction

When the Tuatha De Danann were oppressed, the Goddess Morrigan said “undertake a battle of overthrowing.” And so the warriors, physicians, smiths, and Druids of the Tuatha De Danann met in secret conference. Each told what power they possessed, and what they would bring to the battle.

What are your skills? What are your arts? What do you bring to the battle for freedom, and justice, and the right to bodily autonomy for all?

This battle will not be won with physical weapons, either those of the Iron Age or those of today. But victory demands strength, courage, and determination just the same.

May your Lughnasadh be happy and bright, and may it be a time of planning for the days that lie ahead.

Summer Solstice in Modern Paganism

June 12, 2022 By John Beckett

There’s a story that says one day while they were both at their naturist (i.e. – nudist) retreat, Gerald Garner (the founder of Wicca) and Ross Nichols (the founder of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids) were discussing which holidays they should celebrate. Gardner, who thought he was recreating a Nature religion, wanted to celebrate the four solstices and equinoxes. Nichols, who was a Druid and would go on to found his own Druid order, wanted to celebrate the four Celtic fire festivals. In the end they decided to do both, and so the modern Pagan Wheel of the Year was born.

That story is probably more apocryphal than historical, but it’s certainly true in a mythical sense. The fire festivals of Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain are attested in pre-Christian Celtic lore – they’ve been celebrated for over two millennia. The solstices and equinoxes are natural phenomena – they’ve existed for as long as the Earth has been revolving around the Sun, and the Winter Solstice may be humanity’s oldest holy day. But putting all eight together into the Wheel of the Year as we know it is a mid-20^th century invention.

We don’t have much in the way of ancient Pagan lore around the Summer Solstice. Most of the customs we know date from the Christian era, though some from the Baltic region certainly look Pagan. We don’t even have many names for it.

And that’s OK. Religious authenticity does not come from doing exactly what people did centuries ago. It comes from building and maintaining relationships with Nature, with our Gods, and with each other, in ways that are meaningful and helpful to us here and now. Our lack of knowledge about how our ancestors celebrated the Summer Solstice – or even if they celebrated it – simply means we have more freedom to celebrate it in ways that are right for us.

So as we approach the Summer Solstice (which can occur between June 20 and June 22 – in 2022 it’s Tuesday, June 21 at 4:13 AM CDT), let’s look at some of the ways modern Pagans celebrate this holy day.

Honor the Sun at the height of its power

If we celebrate the death and rebirth of the Sun at the Winter Solstice, it follows that we should also celebrate the Sun at the height of its power: the Summer Solstice.

The Solstice is the earliest the Sun will rise and the latest it will set (the actual times may vary by a couple of minutes due to the way we define “sunrise” and “sunset”). It’s the farthest north the Sun will rise on the eastern horizon and set on the western horizon. It’s the highest it will be in the sky at noon.

This is more extreme at higher latitudes. Here in North Texas we have 14 hours 21 minutes of daylight on the Summer Solstice. In Seattle it’s 16 hours. In Stockholm it’s 18 hours 37 minutes. And in Barrow, Alaska, the Sun rose on May 11 and it won’t set again until August 2.

Without the warmth and light of the Sun, there could be no life on Earth. We receive so much from the Sun – the least we can do is to give thanks to the Sun.

Mark the longest day

Notice I said “mark” the longest day, not “celebrate” it. I don’t have if I have Reverse SAD or if I just prefer darker and cooler days. I just know that by the middle of May I start to notice that the days are awfully long. Right now my alarm clock is unnecessary, because birds are waking me up an hour before sunrise… which is about 45 minutes before I have to get up.

The worst of the Texas Summer is yet to come. Our hottest months are July and August. But once we pass the Summer Solstice I know the days will be getting shorter, and although the blast furnace heat is coming it won’t last forever.

Worship a Sun God

Or a Sun Goddess. Most of us think of the Sun as masculine and the Moon as feminine, but some cultures saw that reversed.

For me, when I hear “Sun God” I think of the Egyptian Ra. Denton CUUPS performed an Egyptian Temple Ritual at the Summer Solstice every year for 15 years, and many of those were dedicated to Ra, in whole or in part. We’re doing something different this year, but we’ll be honoring the Gods of Egypt again in July.

the 2009 Denton CUUPS Egyptian Summer Solstice RItual in White Rock Lake Park, the largest park in the city of Dallas

Celebrate a restful pause

If we know little about how the Summer Solstice was celebrated in ancient times, perhaps that’s because there wasn’t a lot going on. The height of the Sun doesn’t have the spiritual and emotional connections that the rebirth of the Sun has. From an agricultural perspective, there’s not a lot going on either. Planting was finished in the Spring and the harvest won’t begin till later in the Summer. There’s the perpetual work of weeding, watering, and keeping young crops from being eaten by insects, birds, and other animals. But Midsummer is a relatively slow time.

It’s also a restful pause for those in the education world, whether as students or as teachers. I remember being a kid and going from excitement that school was out to boredom from nothing to do in about three weeks. I would not go back to that for anything.

But especially in a country where most people get two weeks’ vacation or less, it’s good to stop for a moment and rest whenever we can.

Because before too long, we’ll be back at work again.

Things are reversed in the Southern Hemisphere

In the Southern Hemisphere, things are reversed. They’re getting ready to celebrate the Winter Solstice and move into their coldest part of the year. But close to 90% of the world’s population lives in the Northern Hemisphere, so we tend to assume our way is the “right” way – even though it’s just the most populous way.

Summer Solstice Resources

Summer Solstice – A Solitary Ritual

8 Things to do for Summer Solstice as a Solitary Pagan

7 Ways to Celebrate the Summer Solstice by Jason Mankey

Sunrise and Sunset Times from TimeandDate.com

Wild Magic

April 10, 2022 By John Beckett

Every time I start to narrow my practice down to something more manageable, I find myself presented with something new. Or in this case, with something very, very old.

Not in an “ooh, shiny!” sense, but in a sense of “this, too, is part of who you are.”

Not a distraction, but a reminder.

And an opportunity.

Operative magic is not the only magic

While I’m not a huge fan of Aleister Crowley, I lean heavily on his definition of magic: “the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will.” Magic is something we do. Magic is a cause that generates an effect. I’ve written a fair amount on magic over the years. My course in Operative Magic is the most popular of all the Under the Ancient Oaks online classes.

When I do my monthly full moon workings – or when I have a need that can’t wait for the next full moon – I usually do some form of sigil magic, kitchen witchery, or Traditional Witchcraft. These are different techniques from different traditions, but they share a common formula: a target, a method, and an action, all leading toward a desired result.

I get annoyed when people romanticize magic: “magic isn’t something you do, it’s something you are.” No. That’s a desire to feel special without having to actually do anything. I get even more annoyed when people say something like “magic is the experience of being alive.” Again, no. That’s an attempt to feel magical while clinging to a materialist worldview. Wonder and awe is beautiful and powerful, but it’s not magic.

All this is true. But still, magic is more than spells written in iambic pentameter.

The dog and the wolf both howl at the moon

I think my first reminder of this was a recent blog post by Damh the Bard titled “The Green Grimoire – The Book of Nature 1.” It’s mainly an announcement of things to come, but it included a concern about “what happens to spiritual paths when they become overtly human-centric.” It reminded me that for all my love of the many Gods and my service to Them, my first and strongest calling to Paganism was in Nature.

And then last week I was doing a Tarot reading for a client. The details are of course confidential, but at a key point The Moon turned up.

In the Waite-Smith deck and in Robin Wood (which I was using at the time), The Moon shows a dog (representing civilization) and a wolf (representing the wild) both howling at the moon. A crayfish crawls out of the water onto the land, representing our even older and wilder connections.

There is a wild magic that has nothing to do with target statements and tables of correspondences. Like the dog howling at the moon, it’s not something to be learned from books.

It’s something to be remembered.

Remembering something very old

Wild magic is religious in the sense that it acknowledges the reality of Gods and spirits, but it is not devotional. It is magical in the sense that it taps into unseen energies, facilitates Nature rearranging our priorities, and (at least occasionally) enables the Spirits of Nature to intercede on our behalf.

Wild magic is magic our proto-human ancestors could have practiced 2 million years ago (and likely did) because it does not require language.

It requires placing yourself in wild places and remembering what’s been forgotten over 10,000 years of civilization, 300 years of industrial society, and 60 years of the information age.

It requires connection.

Practicing wild magic

Practicing wild magic begins with returning to the wild, if only for a short time. Truly wild, undeveloped places are best, but any place outdoors will work, including your back yard. Nighttime is best, but dusk and dawn are especially magical times, and magic works just fine in daylight even though we seem to notice it more easily at night.

If you simply cannot go outside, bring the outside inside. Keep houseplants, open a window, light a fire or a candle, and mainly, turn off the electronics.

Don’t let the desire for the perfect wild environment keep you from doing what you can. Doing something is better than doing nothing.

And then listen.

Listen to the birds and squirrels, to the wind and rain, and to the dogs (and perhaps, other canines) howling at the moon.

Look up at the sky, look down at the dirt, look out at the trees.

Take in the smells.

What do you hear, what do you see, what do you smell? Don’t try to identify and classify everything. Just take it in. Experience it.

Remember that you’re a part of it.

Sense the energy – hear the spirits

And then listen with your other senses. Feel the energy moving around you.

What else is in the wild?

Who else is in the wild?

What are they saying? Are any of them speaking to you?

Listen.

And take care. Do not assume everyone you encounter is there to help you. Do not assume everyone wants to be your friend. Most just want to do their own thing and be left alone. Some, however, may share your values, your goals, your priorities. They may be willing work with you, and you may be able to learn something in the process.

Just remember the laws of hospitality and reciprocity, and be impeccable with your word.

Remembering our connections

This is all fascinating, but at the end of the day I’m an engineer, not a scientist – I want to know what I can do with it.

Wild magic is less about generating results and more about remembering who you are, and what you are.

The biggest lie civilization ever told us is that we’re not animals. We’re special animals, to be sure. We have opposable thumbs and big brains and the capacity for language. That lets us do things other animals can’t, or can’t do as well. That’s both good (modern medicine, the internet) and bad (nuclear weapons, advertising).

Wild magic reminds us that we’re animals, neither better nor worse than the other animals. The natural world is our home – we’re connected to it.

Wild magic also reminds us that we’re spirits, neither better nor worse than the other spirits. The spirit world is our home too – we’re connected to it.

Anything is possible when you know who you truly are

This is the primary benefit from wild magic: it helps you strip away all the masks, costumes, and programming of the modern world and understand who – and what – you truly are.

When you know who you are, you know what you want. Not what you think you want or what you’ve been told you’re supposed to want, but what you really want.

And when you know what you really want, it’s easier to select a target for your magical workings. Or, you know, go get it with mundane effort. Or better yet, with both.

Because learning how to do sigil magic or candle magic or poppet magic is easy.

Figuring out what to do those things for is hard.

Remember you’re an animal. Remember you’re a spirit. Remember you’re connected to all the other animals and all the other spirits in this world, and in the Otherworld. It’s not enough to intellectually acknowledge that these things are true. You need to feel them in your bones. You need to feel them in your soul.

Wild magic has to be experienced.

Now, go howl at the moon.

An Atheist Hopes For Reincarnation

February 6, 2022 By John Beckett

In December, the bulk of the bloggers on the Patheos Nonreligious channel resigned. According to this report by Religion News Service, they were asked to tone down their criticism of religion – which, from my perspective as a religious person, sometimes crossed the line from critique into mockery. But also, many of the writers wanted their own specifically non-religious space.

In January the new site OnlySky launched, by and for the secular and nonreligious. It’s a lot more visually impressive than the Patheos Nonreligious channel, though it’s harder to navigate. As someone who supports religious freedom and diversity and who hopes everyone finds the path that’s best for them, I wish them well.

Atheists and Pagans are frequently on the same side when it comes to fighting for religious freedom and to prevent the dominant religion from using the power of government to promote its beliefs and to mandate its practices. We are competitors in the marketplace of religions, offering diametrically opposed alternatives to the dominant religion.

There is some overlap in the two movements – nontheistic Paganism is a valid path. I’m a polytheist, but if someone wants to pour an offering to Brighid, it would never occur to me to ask if they’re offering to the Goddess, to the saint, or to a metaphor for inspiration and healing.

And that brings us to the first post on OnlySky that grabbed my attention. Kristen Chase (who, best as I can tell, wasn’t part of Patheos Nonreligious) has a piece titled I’m nonreligious, and I kind of hope reincarnation is a real thing. It’s a short piece if you want to read it for yourself. Here’s a brief excerpt:

Do I really believe that I’ll see my kids after I die? No. And I certainly will not be handing out small booklets or knocking down anyone’s door to try to get them to believe right along with me.

But does it give me a little solace in these difficult times? Abso-freaking-lutely.

I appreciate Kristen Chase sharing her thinking on this, and I appreciate the OnlySky editors putting it on their front page (albeit near the bottom of the page).

Comments were mixed. Some were supportive and sympathetic while others were not, such as one that said “wishful thinking and no evidence of any of it.” That statement is blatantly false, and more importantly, it’s unhelpful to someone who is wrestling with a question that has challenged humanity for thousands of years.

The only thing we know is that we don’t know

The only thing we can say with certainty about what comes after death is that we don’t know. But the belief that consciousness survives death (whether through reincarnation, an afterlife, or something else) is intuitive and near-universal. Atheists like to say that children have to be indoctrinated into religion, but that’s not true. They have to be indoctrinated into specific religious traditions, but religion itself is organic – and that includes the belief that there’s something more than this world and this one life.

The evidence points me toward a belief in a time of rest and review in an Otherworld, followed by rebirth into this world. Unlike Kristen Chase, I really do believe that. But on a confidence scale, my belief in reincarnation is relatively low, far less than my belief in the reality of the Gods and the efficacy of magic.

Belief isn’t a binary thing. This is something our Christian-dominated culture doesn’t seem to understand. Growing up, I was taught there were some things I had to belief, and I had to believe them “with all my heart.” Doubt was a sin.

Doubt isn’t a sin. Doubt is the honest result when you examine inconclusive evidence. You come to what you think is the most likely conclusion, but you realize you might be wrong. You believe, but you hold that belief very loosely.

The fundamentalists I grew up with refused to consider that they might be wrong. So do the atheists telling Kristen Chase that her hope for reincarnation is “wishful thinking.”

Enjoy this life while you’re here

It’s natural to wonder about what comes after death. It’s not healthy to obsess over it. So many in our society do obsess over it, because the dominant religion tells us that it’s a high stakes matter. Pick the right belief and you’ll live forever in paradise. Pick the wrong belief and you’ll be tortured for all eternity.

The fact that the heaven-or-hell dichotomy has such high stakes with no clear and incontrovertible evidence was one of the first things that let me know what I was being taught by the Baptists wasn’t right. I may have been nine, but I was a clear-thinking nine-year-old.

I agree with the non-theists that we should never let our thoughts about the next life distract us from this life. There is work we must do here because it can only be done here.

Beyond that, as a Pagan I readily and unreservedly affirm that this life and this world are good. Nature is beautiful and terrible, live-giving and life taking, and it’s good. It’s not fair and it’s not nice – no world that includes war, famine, childhood cancer, and coronaviruses can be considered fair or nice. But it’s still good.

All those “bad” things remind us that the universe isn’t all about us. We’re one species on one planet that has existed for a fraction of the life of a universe that’s incredibly big and complex. And yet, here we are, contemplating it all.

And making it more fair and more nice for more persons is enough to keep us busy for more lifetimes than we can imagine.

The afterlife will take care of itself

The Morrigan holds my death. In Her usual cryptic manner, She’s told me very little about what comes after death and even less about when my death will be… if She knows… if She’s decided. Her message to me is to keep working to embody Her virtues and values in my life, and to spread them in this world.

I still think about what comes after death – a little, anyway. I’m human – how could I not think about it?

My thinking has led me to believe in reincarnation. But it’s a belief I hold loosely. I might be wrong – there might be only an afterlife. Or there might be nothing after death. I’m OK with that too. I would say I’d be disappointed if that’s the case, but if it is I won’t be around to know.

And I don’t want to get so caught up in the next life that I neglect to live this life as fully as I can.

What comes after death will take care of itself in its own time.

The 2000th Post on Under the Ancient Oaks

January 30, 2022 By John Beckett

The first post on Under the Ancient Oaks went up on June 29, 2008. Thirteen and a half years later, this is the 2000^th post.

I’ve done two major retrospectives recently. In 2018 I wrote 10 Years Under the Ancient Oaks, which tells the story of how this blog began and how it grew into what it is today. Last year I wrote 13 Year Blogiversary of Under the Ancient Oaks, which was more about the state of the blog and future plans. Those posts stand on their own and I don’t want to repeat them.

But 2000 posts is a significant number, and I feel the need to recognize it in one way or another.

I started to pull out posts with milestone numbers (#1, #100, #500, etc.) but too many of them were posts I’d rather not call attention to. Ray Bradbury was right: everyone’s first million words are crap. I had done some writing before I started blogging – I think I hit my million words in late 2011. That’s somewhere around #450. Most of the ones before that weren’t great.

As I was looking over the list of posts, it became clear that blogging is never done in a vacuum. My early posts were very UU-centric. Not only was I very involved in my local UU church at the time, most of the other bloggers I was reading were also UUs. My writing gradually became more Pagan-centric, especially after I moved to Patheos Pagan in early 2013. When the polytheist movement began to pick up steam around 2014, the emphasis of my blogging shifted again. Today I’m a polytheist first, but I still blog on topics of the day, whatever corner of the Big Tent they come from.

Blogging is best done in community. The more people blogging and blogging regularly, the better things are for all of us.

The other thing that became clear was that I really fill three separate roles on the blog. Sometimes I’m a reporter, telling people what’s going on. Sometimes I’m a columnist, offering my analysis and opinions on events and issues. And sometimes I’m a teacher, sharing my beliefs and practices for those who are interested in them.

My two most widely-read post of all time are analysis and opinion (“Adulting” Is an Indictment of Society, Not of Millennials from 2016 and Dude, It’s You from 2014), but all the other top posts are teaching posts.

And now I’m at 2000 posts. Rather than yet another variation on a Top 10 list, for the 2000^th post I’d like to pull out a few posts that in retrospect are more important than perhaps any of us realized at the time.

#9 – Experience, Belief, and Practice – August 2008

Not all those first million words are crap. In my 9^th post overall, I wrote 341 words that did a very good job of articulating the relationship between experience, belief, and practice. It’s a virtuous circle – you can enter at any point and move in either direction. But if you make your way to all three, you’ll have the beginnings of a meaningful and robust religion.

It’s important enough that I expanded on it in The Path of Paganism.

#153 – Martin Luther King Jr. on Mystery Religions and Christianity – September 2009

When Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was a seminary student in 1950, he wrote a paper titled “The Influence of the Mystery Religions on Christianity.” King wrote:

There can hardly be any gainsaying of the fact that Christianity was greatly influenced by the Mystery religions, both from a ritual and a doctrinal angle.

There’s nothing earth-shattering in the paper – just good religious history of the kind that Mainline Protestants acknowledge but mostly ignore and fundamentalists actively deny. My only disappointment is that King repeated a theme already quite old at the time: that the imperfect Pagan religions were only a preliminary step toward the “more perfect” Christian religion which replaced them.

The notes added by The Martin Luther King Jr. Research and Education Institute at Stanford (where King’s papers are archived) say the paper got an A.

#391 – To Fly By Night – June 2011

My book reviews tend to not be well-read. I do them anyway because books are the primary way most people learn Paganism and witchcraft. I want to promote the good ones and warn people away from the bad ones.

This is one of the good ones.

It’s an anthology of hedgewitchery, a practice that has “less interest in the heavily scripted and ceremonial aspects of … modern Paganism and witchcraft” and that involves “the seeking of divine wisdom … interaction with the ancestors, the fae, and other spirits … and working in the Otherworld to manifest a material benefit in this world.”

In discussions around whether it’s proper to use the term “shaman” someone (I can’t remember who) suggested that the closest Western equivalent to “shaman” is “hedgewitch.” I tend to agree.

To Fly By Night is still in print. The Amazon link in the review no longer works, but this one does.

#487 – Common Ritual Errors and How to Avoid Them – January 2012

By 2012 I was starting to write more teaching posts – this is one of them. Doing public ritual isn’t just doing your private ritual for a few more people. It has its own set of concerns and issues, and I still see too many people ignoring them.

This isn’t complicated. It just takes paying attention and thinking things through.

#748 – A Call To Piracy – November 2013

If I rewrote this post today I would take a much harsher tone. While I’m still managing to navigate the mainstream world, just playing the game is getting harder and harder, and the rules keep changing to benefit the rich and powerful.

#1051 – Sore Quadriceps and the Reality of Pagan Priesthood – November 2015

This is one of my favorite posts of all time. For that 1-hour ritual you attended, there are people who were working 6 hours before you got there, and for another 6 hours after you left. Real leadership isn’t about power or glory, it’s about doing what must be done, even when it’s a ton of work.

When we did the Spiral Labyrinth again in 2019 I directed the setup, but I left placing the candles and picking them up to younger people.

#1276 – Why I Had To Make a Clean Break With Christianity – April 2017

Traditional witchcraft and classic occultism were gaining in popularity in 2017 – they’re still going strong. Much of what we have (especially with the grimoire tradition) has roots in Christianity. That’s a valid approach, and one that works for many people. But it doesn’t work for me. Because of the trauma I suffered growing up in a fundamentalist church, I had to make a clean break with Christianity.

#1446 – Paganism in the Dry Season – May 2018

This post turned out to be rather prescient – unfortunately. It’s about what you do when you want to keep moving but it’s hard and joyless, when the vision of a better world and a deeper practice is obscured by smoke and haze.

Kinda like where we’ve been for the past two years.

#1719 – I’m Better Than Vanessa Ives – I Hope To Be As Good As Vanessa Ives – March 2020

Throughout the pandemic, I’ve been watching Penny Dreadful pretty much on a loop. It’s beautiful, it’s fascinating, and in some ways it’s inspiring, even though I hated the ending.

I escaped the toxic religion of my childhood, and in that I’m better than Vanessa Ives. But some magic comes with a price – a price Vanessa willingly paid. Would I do the same? Would I do what must be done, no matter the cost?

When that time comes, I hope I’m as good as Vanessa Ives.