About two weeks ago we celebrated the Asatru festival called Winter Nights, at which we honored the female ancestors, or Disir.
Tonight, millions of Americans will celebrate Halloween by dressing up in costumes and acting bizarrely. Children will go from door to door, decked out as mummies or witches or princesses, and beg for candy. The older set will go to parties at the office or in homes, but the general spirit will be the same as that of their children - a night of fantasy, of the eerie, the strange.
Halloween takes its name from "Hallows Eve," which comes just before before All Souls Day in the Catholic calendar. It is hardly a coincidence that this is the date of the old Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced SOW-an). As always, the Church was adept at co-opting indigenous holy days and using them for its own ends.
If we compare Samhain and Winter Nights, we see strong similarities. The time of year is significant; harvest has ended and the rigors of winter are coming. The dark half of the year is beginning. The nights are longer. Life retreats from the cold. The wall between the worlds is thin, and the ancestors are near.
Samhain and Winter Nights remind us of the closeness of the European peoples. For all our squabbles, and all our distinct cultural differences, we are in many ways the same bunch of people. The Celts, Germans, and Slavs all descend from the folks of the Funnel Beaker Culture. Even today the European genome is eighty-five to ninety percent derived from the earliest hunter-gatherers to inhabit what are now our homelands. Unfortunately, this closeness has not kept us from fighting one fratricidal war after another with our kin. The bloodbaths of World War One and World War Two are the most obvious examples, but countless less spectacular slaughters have darkened our past. Yes, I know we have always fought among ourselves and I am sure we always will. But modern warfare is a dysgenic disaster of proportions which we can no longer accept.
As for me, I will have a Guinness and remember my ancestors - men like Fergus, son of Nellan, who gave my blood a name - but I will also toast those other men and women of Europa who have made me who I am.
Slainte!...and Prost!
Steve McNallen
Asatru Folk Assembly
http://runestone.org
Monday, October 31, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Fall, the Ancestors, and Asatru
Fall, the Ancestors, and Asatru
We who follow Asatru place considerable importance on the turning of the seasons, each of which has its own feeling and its own festivals. The changes in the world around us from season to season are mirrored by changes in our own inner life. In summer we are more outgoing, more active. The coming of fall and of winter brings a new mood, and produces an inward turning of the spirit. We can learn a lot by observing these emotional and spiritual responses.
In my case, I am very aware that fall has arrived in the Sierras. Some people note the changing seasons with a calendar, but I do it differently. For me, the first day of fall is that day when I walk out on my deck in the morning and I can see my breath. The new season is confirmed as I note that my fluttering friends, the bats, with no more insects to devour, have disappeared into their winter homes.
However you measure it, Fall is here. The nights are chilly; the days cooler than they were. The leaves on the trees are turning to gold and yellow and red and brown - the rains will come soon...then the frost...and finally the first snows. Life seems to be in retreat as the leaves drop off, leaving the bare, skeletal branches reaching skyward. The grass dies back, the flowers disappear, some of the birds have flown to warmer climes and other animals have sought refuge in their burrows. When the snow comes, you'd swear that life had disappeared, and death triumphed in this landscape.
We all know, however, that spring will come. On the far side of winter, the days will lengthen and the frosts will come no more. The grass will be green again, and the flowers fill the fields. Life will return. Indeed - and this is key - it had never really departed! It was there all along, withdrawn, sleeping under the snow. There is an unseen continuity that runs from summer to fall, and through the cold of winter to the renewed life of springtime. The thread of life may be hidden, but it is not broken. Life abides!
The indigenous religions of our European forefathers and foremothers, of which Asatru is a leading example, knew that this same principle applies to the clan, as well. The line of descent - the bond extending from our ancestors, to us, and on to our descendents is a continuity just like the unbroken stream of life that defies winter's blasts. The lineage, the clan line, transcends time and space and, yes, mortality itself. The ancestors are with us always, sending their blessings and love through the thin curtain that is death. That curtain is especially thin at this time of year - the festival of Winter Nights is a reminder of this truth, and the Celtic celebration of Samhain is very much the same in spirit.
The love and blessings the ancestors give us is only half of the transaction, of course. As the Havamal reminds us, a gift looks for a return. Our duty to the ancestors is simply this: to remember them, to visit their graves when we can, to show their pictures to our children and grandchildren, and to tell their stories. Listen, as October works its magic, for the loving whispers of those who have gone before us, and who remain concerned for our welfare - and respond to them with love and remembrance in return!
Steve McNallen
Asatru Folk Assembly
http://runestone.org
We who follow Asatru place considerable importance on the turning of the seasons, each of which has its own feeling and its own festivals. The changes in the world around us from season to season are mirrored by changes in our own inner life. In summer we are more outgoing, more active. The coming of fall and of winter brings a new mood, and produces an inward turning of the spirit. We can learn a lot by observing these emotional and spiritual responses.
In my case, I am very aware that fall has arrived in the Sierras. Some people note the changing seasons with a calendar, but I do it differently. For me, the first day of fall is that day when I walk out on my deck in the morning and I can see my breath. The new season is confirmed as I note that my fluttering friends, the bats, with no more insects to devour, have disappeared into their winter homes.
However you measure it, Fall is here. The nights are chilly; the days cooler than they were. The leaves on the trees are turning to gold and yellow and red and brown - the rains will come soon...then the frost...and finally the first snows. Life seems to be in retreat as the leaves drop off, leaving the bare, skeletal branches reaching skyward. The grass dies back, the flowers disappear, some of the birds have flown to warmer climes and other animals have sought refuge in their burrows. When the snow comes, you'd swear that life had disappeared, and death triumphed in this landscape.
We all know, however, that spring will come. On the far side of winter, the days will lengthen and the frosts will come no more. The grass will be green again, and the flowers fill the fields. Life will return. Indeed - and this is key - it had never really departed! It was there all along, withdrawn, sleeping under the snow. There is an unseen continuity that runs from summer to fall, and through the cold of winter to the renewed life of springtime. The thread of life may be hidden, but it is not broken. Life abides!
The indigenous religions of our European forefathers and foremothers, of which Asatru is a leading example, knew that this same principle applies to the clan, as well. The line of descent - the bond extending from our ancestors, to us, and on to our descendents is a continuity just like the unbroken stream of life that defies winter's blasts. The lineage, the clan line, transcends time and space and, yes, mortality itself. The ancestors are with us always, sending their blessings and love through the thin curtain that is death. That curtain is especially thin at this time of year - the festival of Winter Nights is a reminder of this truth, and the Celtic celebration of Samhain is very much the same in spirit.
The love and blessings the ancestors give us is only half of the transaction, of course. As the Havamal reminds us, a gift looks for a return. Our duty to the ancestors is simply this: to remember them, to visit their graves when we can, to show their pictures to our children and grandchildren, and to tell their stories. Listen, as October works its magic, for the loving whispers of those who have gone before us, and who remain concerned for our welfare - and respond to them with love and remembrance in return!
Steve McNallen
Asatru Folk Assembly
http://runestone.org
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