by Briana Hilton

The recent opening of a landscaped garden with symbolic features was marked with a Druid dedication, highlighting the historic relationship between Druidry and nature that is still celebrated to this day.  Whether they are designing and cultivating formal gardens or communing with nature in forests and other natural spaces, Druids are known for their spiritual connection with nature and plants. This connection is often seen as a partnership where the druid works in harmony with the plant world to foster spiritual growth and healing.  Embracing plant allies fosters a profound connection to the natural world in Druidry. Druids recognise that plants are vital components of the web of life and they seek to honour, protect and preserve the ecosystems in which their plant allies thrive. As well as visually enhancing formal gardens, plants play a vital role in rituals and, by cultivating deep relationships with plants, Druids deepen their understanding of the interdependence of all living beings and the sacredness of the Earth.

Cultivating Sacred Gardens

Druids draw inspiration from the cycle of growth in their spiritual practices and rituals, seeking to align themselves with the rhythms of nature and to recognise their place within the larger pattern of growth, decay and rebirth. This concept informs their understanding of life, death and how all living beings are related, fostering a sacred awareness of the cycles of nature. and a sense of responsibility towards the preservation and nurturing of the natural world.  There are three stages in the cycle of growth:  growth and fruition, decay and transition, rebirth and renewal. While it is impossible to stop this natural cycle, Druids have a sense of responsibility towards the nurturing and preservation of nature, investing in plant maintenance to extend lifespans.  Druids often cultivate gardens as sacred spaces for connecting with the plant world and a place to grow symbolic plants used in rituals and ceremonies. These gardens are considered places of spiritual significance where the druid can work in partnership with the plants to co-create a harmonious and nurturing environment.

Embracing Natural Settings

Druids often practise meditation in natural settings such as forests or groves to commune with the spirits of the plant. In these meditative states, they seek to understand the wisdom and healing properties of the plants, as well as to establish a spiritual connection with them. Druids have a long-standing and profound connection with oak groves, as they serve as natural sanctuaries for Druidic rituals. These sacred spaces are believed to be endowed with a heightened energy and spiritual potency, making them ideal locations for conducting ceremonies, invoking blessings and communing with nature. Oak groves are spaces where ancient wisdom and modern practice intersect, where the timeless energies of nature merge with the ongoing spiritual journey of the Druidic community.

Deepening Spiritual Connections

Whether they are found in natural groves or formal gardens, particular plants carry great meaning in Druidry and help to intensify spiritual connections in Druid rituals. Taken as a tea or infused in oil, herbs like rosemary and lavender can sharpen the mind, while blue Vervain, fitting for visionary meditation around the Winter Solstice, has a more calming effect.  Another plant associated with the winter season is Mistletoe, considered as the most sacred of plants in Druidry. The plant has a compelling history, as it was believed that the spirit of the oak tree on which it grew passed into the mistletoe’s bright greenery over the winter, before returning. In contemporary Druidry, mistletoe continues to be honoured and integrated into modern spiritual practices, serving as a potent symbol of interconnectedness, renewal and the enduring wisdom of nature.

Overall, the concept of plant allies in Druidry reflects a holistic and reverent approach to the natural world, affirming the interconnectedness between humans and the plant kingdom. From taking an active role in the preservation of plants in cultivated gardens to celebrating the harmonious relationship with plant allies in forests and other natural spaces, Druids seek to cultivate a harmonious coexistence with the Earth, draw spiritual nourishment and guidance from the wisdom of plants and contribute to the healing and preservation of the world.

by Andrew Fabian

Introduction

The Ogham Tea Ceremony combines elements from a traditional Japanese tea ceremony and aspects of Ogham divination. The ceremony offers the participant a semi-traditional tea ceremony whilst receiving an Ogham reading focusing on the past, present, and future.

In preparation for performing your Ogham Tea Ceremony, you must create your own tea service. Creating your tea service can be an extremely creative process and will enable you to imbue your ritual objects with your own personal intent. You may wish to craft your tea service in clay, like the service shown in the pictures, or you may want to purchase readily available blank items and decorate them yourself using ceramic pens and paints, which are available from most hobby stores. Details of the items needed for your tea service are in the next section.

Ceremonial Items and Ingredients Needed

Below is the list of ceremonial items and ingredients required for the Ogham Tea Ceremony:

Teacups (20), each with a design dedicated to one of the Ogham trees. (Please note that it is essential that the design can only be visible from

one side of the cup.)

Teapot (1) will need to be able to hold enough water to fill three teacups during the ritual.

Tea Caddy (3) will contain the ritual’s three tea blends (past, present, and future).

Tea Strainer (3) is needed to collect the loose tea leaves when preparing the tea during the ceremony.

Saucer (3) to rest the tea strainers on when not used.

Teaspoon (3) to decant the tea from the tea caddy into the tea strainer during the ceremony.

Tablecloth (1) to create a sacred space upon which to perform the tea ceremony. For this ritual, I decided to purchase a botanical design which included the triple moon of the goddess – representing the divine and providing three clear areas in which to place the teacups during the ceremony to represent the past, present, and future.

Ogham Book (1) to assist when providing the reading during the ceremony.

Past Tea Blend: the blend can be of your choice but should include herbs that can aid divination, such as Vervain and Mugwort. The blend should also include at least one ingredient that comes from the roots of a plant (such as Ginger) for its association with the past.

Present Tea Blend: the blend can be of your choice but should include herbs that can aid divination, such as Vervain and Mugwort. The blend should also include at least one ingredient that comes from the bark of a plant (such as Cinnamon) for its association with the present.

Future Tea Blend: the blend can be of your choice but should include herbs that can aid divination, such as Vervain and Mugwort. The blend should also include at least one ingredient from a plant’s leaves, flowers, or fruit (such as Cherry Blossom) for its association with the future.

Water – enough to fill the teapot and for 3 cups of tea during the ritual.

Preparation Steps

Several preparation steps will need to be completed before the ceremony, which are outlined below:

Collecting Herbs – Collecting the herbal ingredients for the tea blends will most likely take up most of your preparation time. It is entirely up to you whether you grow and forage your herbs, purchase individual herbs, or purchase a premade tea blend. However, as mentioned earlier, your tea blends should contain herbal ingredients associated with divination, the past, the present, and the future.

Collecting Water – How you collect the water for the tea ceremony is entirely up to you. Whether you use tap water from home, purchase bottled water or collect rainwater or water from a nearby well. Providing it is safe to drink.

Blessing the Tea Blends and Water – Once the herbs and water have been collected, they should be blessed the night before the tea ceremony. Preferably, this should be done on the night of a full moon for additional potency; however, this is not essential if the lunar calendar doesn’t align with your planned ceremony.

For the blessing, you should set up an altar outside or near a window if this is not possible. Including objects you associate with herbs, healing, and water, such as a simple green and blue candle. The collected water and herbs are placed centrally on the altar.

Once the altar is set up and you are ready to perform the blessing, you should open your ritual space in your usual manner, with the blessing of the water and herbs being the main rite of the ritual. I usually invoke the Goddess Airmed for this blessing due to her connection with herbal healing and wisdom. A simple outline of these blessings is provided below:

Goddess Airmed, mistress of healing and herbal wisdom, please shine your divine light upon this sacred water and herbs. Help me to remember the ancient ways of the plant spirits and their virtues, that I too may learn to bring wholeness and healing during my tea ceremony tomorrow. Beannachtai

Once the blessings have concluded, you should close your ritual space in your usual manner and leave the water and herbs out to bathe in the night sky and collect them the next morning when they are required for the tea ceremony.

Opening and Blessing the Space – Before the ceremony and the guest’s arrival, you must open and bless the ritual space. For this, you should cast the circle to surround the ritual area and open the quarters in your usual manner, in addition to performing the following prayer to deity:

O Great Spirit, O Spirit of this land, this space, I ask for your blessings, guidance and inspiration on this Ogham Tea Ceremony.

Setting up the Ceremonial Space – Once the ritual space has been opened and blessed, it is time to set up the ceremonial tea area. To do this, you must place the tablecloth upon the table with each of the tea caddies (past, present, and future) running down the middle of the tablecloth and equally distanced apart with an accompanying saucer, tea strainer and spoon directly beside each caddy. The teapot should be towards the back of the tablecloth, placed directly in front of where the host will be sitting. All items should be facing towards the guests’ seat with designs visible as shown below:

The 20 teacups should be placed to the side of the tablecloth, ready for guest selection during the tea ceremony. The Ogham designs should be facing towards the host and should not be visible to the guest, as shown below:

Ogham Tea Ceremony

There are several steps which make up the tea ceremony, which are outlined below:

Welcoming and Greeting the Guest – Once the guest is comfortably seated, welcome them and provide an overview of the ceremony they will participate in. Explain to the guest that the tea ceremony will combine the Ogham divination and Herbal teas to offer insights into the past, present, and future. Ask the guest if they have any allergies before serving the team and if they have any questions before the ceremony’s commencement. Answer any necessary questions if required.

Selecting the Cups – Present the 20 teacups to the guest. The teacups should be placed so that the guest cannot see the Ogham designs and that only the blank side of the teacups should be shown. Advise the guest to pick up each teacup individually whilst contemplating their intent for the reading. Encourage the guest to feel each teacup within their hands and feel the form of the teacup but without viewing the design from the other side.

Finally, ask the guest to select three teacups, explaining that each one will represent the past, present, and future within the reading. Once the guest has chosen, place the teacups in front of the relevant tea caddy and saucer. Ensuring that the design is facing the host and is still hidden from the guest, as shown below:

Serving the Tea (Past) – The host should make a subtle mental note of the Ogham tree on the teacup before serving the tea. When the host is ready to serve the tea, slowly turn the teacup around so that its Ogham design is visible to the guest, place the strainer into the cup and start to decant a heaped teaspoon of the Past Tea Blend into the strainer – finally adding the hot water from the teapot.

While the tea brews, the host should explain to the guest the ingredients in the tea blend, mentioning any herbs that can aid divination and explaining any components that come from a plant’s roots and their association with the past.

Note: – I use a pre-blended Liquorice Twist herbal infusion containing peppermint (65%) and liquorice (35%) with added vervain and mugwort leaves from my garden.

Once the tea has been brewed, remove the strainer, and place it upon the saucer before handing it to the guest to drink whilst the host performs the Ogham reading, explaining that the past reading may represent a combination of the following:

Energies and events that are in the past yet still affect you.

How your past either holds you back (blocks) or helps you move forward (growth).

What you need to take from the past and use to your advantage today.

Serving the Tea (Present) – The host should make a subtle mental note of the Ogham tree on the teacup before serving the tea. When the host is reading to serve the tea, slowly turn the teacup around so that its Ogham design is visible to the guest, place the strainer into the cup and start to

decant a heaped teaspoon of the Present Tea Blend into the strainer – finally adding the hot water from the teapot.
While the tea brews, the host should explain to the guest the ingredients in the tea blend, mentioning any herbs that can aid divination and explaining any components that come from the trunk of a plant and their association with the present.

Note: – I use a pre-blended Cinnamon & Vanilla Chai containing Cinnamon (40%), Ginger (18%), sweet fennel (18%), liquorice (16%), cardamom seeds (5%) and bourbon vanilla extract with added vervain and mugwort leaves from my garden.

Once the tea has been brewed, remove the strainer, and place it on the saucer before handing it to the guest to drink whilst the host performs the Ogham reading, explaining that the present reading may represent a combination of the following:

What is going on for you right now?

The energy of the present moment.

Opportunities and challenges that are currently being presented to you.

Serving the Tea (Future) – The host should make a subtle mental note of the Ogham tree represented upon the teacup before serving the tea. When the host is reading to serve the tea, slowly turn the teacup around so that its Ogham design is visible to the guest, place the strainer into the cup and start to decant a heaped teaspoon of the Future Tea Blend into the strainer – finally adding the hot water from the teapot.

While the tea brews, the host should explain to the guest the ingredients in the tea blend, mentioning any herbs that can aid divination and explaining any components that come from a plant’s fruit, flowers, or leaves and their association with the future.

Note: – I use a pre-blended Cherry Blossom green tea containing green tea (95%), peony flowers (1%) and rose petals (1%) with added vervain and mugwort leaves from my garden.

Once the tea has been brewed, remove the strainer, and place it upon the saucer before handing it to the guest to drink whilst the host performs the Ogham reading, explaining that the future reading may represent a combination of the following:

Outcome of the situation.

The direction that things seem to be moving in.

What you are wanting.

Concluding the Reading – Once all the tea has been served, and the readings have taken place. The host should invite the guest to ask any final questions they may have or feedback they wish to share. The ceremony has been completed once all questions have been answered, and the guest may leave.

Closing the Ceremony

You must close the ritual space following the ceremony and after the guest’s departure. For this, you should uncast the circle and close the quarters in your usual manner, in addition to performing the following gratitude to deity:

‘O Great Spirit, O Spirit of this land, this space, I give thanks for your blessings, guidance and inspiration on this Ogham Tea Ceremony.’

Happy Solstice to one and all!

It’s taken me all day to sit and write today, but that’s okay, some things take a while

Solstice! The barefoot thumping heartbeat of the summer, and all of her adventures.

Peak energy of the sun, peak light, enormous growth everywhere. It’s here! We made it!

This longest day stretches over the next few, and invites a whole time of summer: summertime.

Hot. Sunny. Sweaty. Leaping into bodies of water. Spending time with loved ones. Friends. Family. Laughing! Adventuring. Travelling. Sunglasses and that smell of suncream. Daytime naps on the grass under trees. Beaches. Salty bare skin from the sea. Holidays. Basking. Cold drinks. Long dusky evenings. Bright long mornings. Crowds and chatter. Fires at night. Bare feet. Skies full of stars. Expressions of love. Release. Creativity and risk and stretch. Fullness. Rest and energy. Energy and rest.

A long list of stereotypes? Perhaps. Also, much truth and nostalgia and joy.

It is, as ever, an opportunity to pause and reflect. Where were you at the winter solstice? Where are you now? Where will you be by the next? Get curious with yourself, and the life you are living. Set intentions and goals if they have meaning to you. Reflect either way, just for the value of its own self.

Summer has a different feeling altogether; patchworks of experiences woven together by the bright, close sunshine and the longer days. A lightness. A warmth. A fun.

We wait so so long for these months to circle back around, even while we love the other seasons as they pass, but here they finally are.

So, smile at the sun as she sets tonight. Wave at her now! Watch her rise in the coming days if you can. Watching the sunrise reminds me of how light can burst out of darkness, the patience involved in waiting, and the hope involved in the watching the horizon gently brighten as the sunrise pulls closer. The first glint of golden beaming through from the source that gives us all of our energy. Come and sit in my classroom, my lessons on climate change will tell you that!

So, whatever your ingredients of summer are, I hope you have one that is nourishing in the ways that you need it to be.

The days stay the same length for the next few days, so you’ve got a little while!

I have grown herbs for many years, and use them in cooking, cleaning, for making incense etc. While beginning my studies on the OBOD Ovate course, and after a visit to Chambawallah Teas shop in Birmingham, I felt guided to research, journey and create a tea ritual. I have created my tea mix for a healing ritual. You may create other mixes for maybe tonics or transformation?

The important things to think about when thinking of creating a tea ritual are,

How are you going to get the ingredients and create the tea mix?
What equipment do you need to create the ritual?
How will you create the sacred space for the ritual?

The following is my process, from thinking about what the ingredients may be, through to preparing a ritual for someone. I have added some of the blessings that I use, you may choose your own, relevant to the way that you work in ritual. I have divided the process into three parts.

Information, herbs and items you may need
Preparing the items, and day before the ritual preparation.
Preparing and creating the ritual.
Collecting/buying/storing of Herbs and Ritual Items:

The first thing is to decide how you will get the herbs you need for a tea ritual, this may include growing them, you may know where wild herbs grow and are able to forage for them, buying herbs from a garden centre or maybe buying dried herbs online. You may use this recipe or like to try your own.

Each time I collect herbs, I always ask for Bridget’s wisdom to help me in my tea ritual work with the following blessing:

To the great goddess of Ireland and beyond
I anoint my head as you anointed those you blessed
Oh Brigid, I too ask for your blessing and wisdom, and knowledge,
The wonderful, gifted Celtic goddess that you are.
I am humbled by the bees who bought their magickal nectar
from your Apple Orchards in the otherworld.
As you walked, your feet like kisses to the earth, -shamrocks and flowers would appear
Please share with me your knowledge of herbs and otherworldly help
In this great time of healing, I too can pass healing to others, so they can find their way
Come share with me so I can walk in your footsteps, and my steps be like kisses to the earth,
deepen my spirituality and wisdom, for the benefit of all sentient beings.

You may need to dry the herbs, and when completely dry, finely chop them and store them in air tight containers. I use jars to store all my herbs, with the herb names and dates that the herbs were picked on labels.

Collecting items to use

This is a list of the items that have become sacred for my tea ritual, you may have similar or chose different items for yours.

~ Blue bottle for the water that I use, and a pink quartz crystal programmed for healing. Picture.
~ Circular tray symbolic of the Earth, of the circle of the year, and of the sacred circle that we create for
ritual and ceremony.
~ Two cloths, to sit in the tray – the first representing the elements, and the second one representing the
Tree of Life.
~ Ritual tea pot, and cups for herbal preparations. I recently bought these cups, thinking they were very
apt for the ritual.
~ I have small spoon for measuring the herbs into one of the teas, and a dish for mixing the tea, and a box to keep the tea in.

I prepare the water and tea the day before to give them time to blend…To read the entire article click here…

by The Most Rev. Shaun McCann

By the rowan and the brier
By the raging forest fire
By the sky in lightening torn
By the moon that’s newly born
By the rising of the sun
By the task that I have done
I bind my feeble soul to thee
Almighty, Son, and Spirit three.
~ Fr. David Adam

The Christian mystic, St. John of the Cross once noted that God’s first language is silence – but if the Divine Beloved, who is beyond all language, has an earthly tongue, then it is almost certainly that of Nature itself.

Whether seeking to put human words on the more-than-human, the beyond-human or the non-human – the work of expressing the Ineffable has always been a universal challenge found in harmony across religious or spiritual traditions. The diverse history of Christian expression and variety is a testament to this.

Out of this rich history of human journeys to express the inexpressible has been born many masterpieces of music, architecture, poetry, and storytelling, or they have served as the progenitors from which many of these expressions have begun, grown or been immortalized.

The aural tapestry of polyphony, the magnetic upward pull of eye, heart and mind to vaulted cathedral ceiling, the dancing play of stained glass sunlight cast across the frankincense adorned air of sanctuary and chapel, or the reverent eyes of silent icons that follow the timeless procession of seeker and initiate into the heart of every temple – these all seek to give shape, form and expression to that which by its very nature, defies limitation.

Underlying every theology, every ritual, and reflected in the eyes of thousands of years of adherents, is the quest to incarnate the infinite in the finite; to take hold of the timeless Divine even if for fleeting moments.

In Christianity, tangible expressions are not only born from this impulse but also attempt to communicate or generate it. A notable example of this is the Sacrament of the Eucharist, in which the spiritual reality is not merely signified in the expression, but the expression can directly participate, create or become the thing it signifies.

Unfortunately over time, this interchange of experience and expression has just as often led to a blind spot of where the Divine is to be encountered, and Christianity in its quest to honour the Divine has neglected the treasure for the sake of which it has travelled both distance and time. There is a present day amnesia about what is literally under its feet and the ground upon which it stands.

In the meeting of the worlds of Christianity and nature-centered spirituality, particularly as expressed by modern Druidry, there is not only an opportunity whereby each can explore, enrich and experience each other, there is also a space where Christianity can more fully experience itself in a new way, or perhaps an old way – a timeless way.

It is natural and human for us to seek to express the individual spiritual impulse with things of the highest and most grand order of magnitude which we can conceive. When trying to grasp the Ineffable, we naturally reach for those symbols which are transcendent enough to do justice to this spiritual reality but are also instinctively or intuitively understood and universal to human experience.

Yet too often for its long and storied history of art, Christianity and Christians both intellectually and experientially forget that there’s only one thing on earth common to each human being which truly expresses that sense of magnitude which does justice to the Divine – the sweep and beauty of the fullness of the natural world. Springing forth, from a perspective of deference and humility before the Divine Beloved in this way, comes a vista of spiritual exploration and reflection which opens up when we realize that many human symbols are but homage to this reality.

Mountains as basilicas to the heavens, stones as altars of the Most High, rivers as the coursing of the spirit of God, the trees as banners in the processional of time, or pillars in a cathedral of nature, the echo of song from the choir of winds, the face of the deep reflecting the face of the Divine. Nature effortlessly and organically exemplifies those profound symbols which humanity has used as metaphors to comprehend the Infinite. The depth of the oceans, the illumination of the flame, the liberating expanse of the sky.

As the continental drift of Christianity continues a slow sail further from its ancient roots, this is a language it is slowly losing the ability to think in, even if its texts and hagiographies speak in a way that is punctuated with its poetry.

Scripture, from canonical texts such as the Hebrew Bible and Greek New Testament, to the non-canonical, apocryphal and pseudepigraphical works such as those found in the Nag Hammadi Library, are a treasury of this imagery. Yet we overlook its tangible counterparts over our heads, before our eyes, and under our feet.

God’s voice in the fire which burns but does not consume, the seekers in the desert guided by pillars of cloud and flame, John the Baptist plunging initiates under flowing water to be born anew, Jesus using the very ground under his feet to heal the blind and calling forth Lazarus from the womb of the earth, the voice of the seven thunders speaking the ineffable.

Centuries of seeking to incarnate the Divine through human human hands has caused many Christians and expressions of Christianity to lose sight of the wisdom found in some of its own theologies and historic traditions which implicitly includes Nature as a part of its spiritual universe – namely, panentheism.

Christian theology carries within itself not only nature as symbol and metaphor for the Divine, but nature as an expression, emanation and aspect of the Divine.

Odds are, if you’re a Christian exploring the possibilities of pagan practice, you have undoubtedly seen paganism framed in terms of Pantheism. The depth of this association or its universality is better left to scholars and expert pagan practitioners rather than myself, as I am neither, but there are many of each whom you will encounter in the significant and enlightening Mount Haemus lectures found in the Order’s resources.

Pantheism, from the Greek pan-theos, popularized by John Toland, whom exoteric and esoteric history credits with being a central figure in setting the stage for the Druid Revival, means all and divine respectively. It is the idea that reality and divinity, or perhaps nature or the universe and divinity are one for one, that is- one and the same.

Embedded within the ancient history of Christian theology and found today among a significant number of adherents, particularly in the orthodox East, and heterodox expressions in the West, is that of the aligned but different concept of panentheism.

From the Greek pan-en-theos, “all in god” – panentheism holds that the Divine interpenetrates or is in all things and fills the material universe, and yet exists beyond it as well. That the entire universe exists within the Divine and the Divine is bigger than the universe – and thus both immanent and transcendent. Both all-pervading and all-encompassing, God is neither separate from nor identified with the universe.

This is also consonant with my own view and that of the Apostolic Johannite Church, the Gnostic Christian Church in which I serve.

Hand in hand with this view, at least in my own case is one of the common tenets of both ancient and modern iterations of Gnosticism and Gnostic Christianity (from the Greek word Gnosis, which refers to knowledge of the experiential kind) is that of an emanationist cosmology – that the Universe is the result of the emanation of the Divine, like ripples from from a stone cast in the waters of eternity rather than a single moment of willful divine creation.

In the case of panentheism, this isn’t some ancient heresy or insignificant view shared by a few but is implicitly and explicitly sown into millennia of Christian theology yet somehow forgotten, overlooked or misunderstood. When this perspective is recovered, it reestablishes humanity in the fullness of spiritual context.

In the collection of works we now know as the canonical New Testament, whenever a figure referred to ‘the scriptures’ – to what did they refer? Not to Christian scripture as we know it but as they knew it – being the Hebrew Bible, or the Old Testament so-called. Sometimes we forget this as many are rooted in reading the present into the past.

Similarly, it is all too common to see our spiritual or physical ancestors under our terms rather than on their own terms. Progress in the form of education, inclusion, science and technology is worthy of celebration but when we recall and look outward through the spiritual eyes of our ancestors – we rekindle something that is too easily lost at times in the pace of change – mystery and wonder.

Placed in perspective, our progress does not dispel the mystery and wonder of former ages but can build on it with an understanding that unfolds greater wonder and beauty than truly known without.

The primal power of the ‘sky in lightening torn’ as the poet and priest Fr. David Adam has scribed, is not lessened by the knowledge that each bolt releases a gigajoule of energy. That is enough power to enable you to surf this website for hundreds of days non-stop. We are not lessened by this knowledge, we now have a full appreciation of what a sky torn by the lightning flash really means – not mere beauty but scale and scope and where we sit within it – it doesn’t discard respect for that power, it embraces it.

At this very moment, dwelling within you are elements of the mineral world, the vegetable world and the animal world, drawn up from the depths of the sea, raised in the arc of the sky and alive in the foundation of your bones, and not only the substance of the world but the very stars themselves. This knowledge does not separate us from nature, it places us at once within it, a part of it, and the result of it.

In an emanated and panentheistic universe, the Divine interpenetrates all things in the same way that all things interpenetrate ourselves, and from this perspective Nature becomes our elder sibling, rippled out from the same Divine source.

Christian mystics, of both orthodox and heterodox strains, have known this when they speak of reading and learning from the Book of Nature.

When the ancient Christians, especially those in Celtic lands, walked out into the land and nature, they encountered a world alive with the Divine, a transcendence made immanent under every stone, hanging from every branch, and whispering in every brook. Panentheism puts this experience into a concept that is communicated in orthodox Christianity but rarely sought out in practice and one for which Druidry can help Christianity make a reconnection to itself.

The re-enchantment of the landscape of Christian experience begins with a re-enchanting shift in theological perspective. The myths, stories, meditations and perspective of modern Druidry offer Christianity ancient trackways to learn and embrace beyond its borders but also to better understand its own history and spirituality.

To be sure, Christianity in the lands of the Druids has roots in time that stretch back of their own accord, with the stories of St. Joseph of Arimathea, St. Alban, St. Columba, St. Patrick, St Brigid, St. Ninian, St. Nectan, St David and so many more. While historically we have little record for much of a then contemporary overlap, it should be no surprise that the power and force of myth in both Christianity and modern Druidry came together historically in the modern era with a flowering of stories towards a hybrid Celtic Church that inhabited a liminal and twilight space as the historical spiritual landscape shifted – one that was neither solely Christian nor Pagan but became the inheritance of each other as we know them today. While much of this is aspirational rather than firmly historical, it is an aspiration which does both paths credit.

That some of the central figures of the original Druid Revival were themselves Christian (albeit heterodox) and some even clergy cannot be discounted, most notably Iolo Morganwg (Edward Williams) and the Rev. William Stukeley respectively, the latter being an Anglican priest who self-identified as a Druid. These figures served as driving forces for preservation and study of sacred sites, Celtic culture and language.

This participation continues in the present day with many Christians who draw spiritual, mythological and personal value from Druidry as expressed by communities such as the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids, including both more mainstream and less orthodox laity and clergy.

It is also worth remembering the notable figures within and without the Order itself who have found value in the interchange between Pagan and Christian thought and practice. This includes two very significant and pivotal modern figures – both the founder of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids, Ross Nichols, and the founder of modern Wicca, Gerald Gardner, both ordained in Neo-Celtic expressions of the Independent Sacramental Movement, which the past Chosen Chief, Phillip Carr-Gomm has spoken of in his many fine talks and works.

It was not beneath either of their respective Christian or Pagan worldviews to embrace or recognize in common, the best of their counterparts as an enrichment or perspective on their own paths. They recognized then, as we should recognize now, that there is a shared space in the land and the stories we tell about the land, and most importantly, the stories the land can tell us – about ourselves, each other and the Divine.

Christianity, particularly its Celtic and Neo-Celtic expressions, can offer to Druidry a poetic, folk and bardic-like continuity of hagiography and mysticism where the oral tradition of the ancient Druids fell silent beneath Roman steel.

Druidry in turn offers a lived, ancient and yet fully present reality of timeless mythology, insightful narrative and ritual built around the land and nature – a power of myth and experience-centered practice which not only enables us to have a richer understanding of our fellow non-Christian seekers, but also builds a modular toolkit which enables us to examine our own tradition in a new way.

In speaking of what these traditions can offer to each other, a mention must also be made of that symbol which belongs neither wholly to Christianity or to Druidry, but is the common mythological, aspirational and spiritual heritage held between them – the Grail.

Implicit in the form of the Cauldron which is seeded throughout the landscape of pagan mythology but particularly in the Welsh Mabinogion with its Arthurian themes and made explicit in the Christian romance stories originating in the age of troubadours, trobairitz and minnesingers, comes the Grail.

As the preeminent personification of both the spiritual quest and its goal, the Grail mythology told in story, song and poem, is a transcultural narrative and spiritual language that not only speaks to one’s relationship to the spiritual and natural realms but also one’s own relationship to oneself in the course of the spiritual journey.

While there is much more to this shared space than can be explored in this paper, the imperative principle that can be drawn up from its deep well with ease is the shared ideal that the Grail serves as pointer to – which can function not only as a guiding principle in how Christians and Pagans see each other, but also how each approaches the path and the world.

There is an old story which illustrates this, known as the Parable or Allegory of the Long Spoons, which marks out the contrast between a place of torment and that of paradise. In the place of torment, guests are seated at a banquet equipped with spoons that are too long and unwieldy to be able to feed themselves, and they are continually hungry. In the place of paradise, the table setting is exactly the same – the difference is that the guests use the long spoons to feed each other.

The heroes of the Grail stories did not drink from the Grail themselves, it was achieved for those around them. I would go as far as to suggest that the Grail is not truly achieved until it is offered in service to another.

Like the shared symbol of the Grail, the exploration of our commonalities and differences creates a trackway in the forest of the world that can lead us to living our own principles more fully.

Whether seen as the canonical scriptural view of each human being made in the image of God – or the Gnostic viewpoint of each human being possessing the Sacred Flame, the Divine Spark whose apprehension brings salvation from sleeping selfhood – seeing the Divine in the person of our fellow humanity is an essential quality of any spiritual path walked with integrity.

In moments of difficulty – be they personal, societal or global, seeing the Divine in one another can be a challenge. When the face of the Divine does not become readily visible in the face of either neighbour, stranger or self – it is in those most challenging of moments that a reconnection with the Divine and re-enchantment of our world and life isn’t just important, it is essential.

In those moments when we cannot see the Divine in ourselves or each other – we have an opportunity to keep that flame lit by seeing and experiencing it through the agency of our elder sibling – Nature. It is under her care that mystery, wonder and the sacred can be nurtured until we are able to become, as Meister Eckhart has said, “mothers of God, for God is always needing to be born.”

That the Divine is both seen in the simple and overlooked staple of life and offered in refreshment and communion to and with each other is a fundamental lesson of the central Christian Sacrament of the Eucharist. When Jesus instructed his Apostles at the Last Supper that bread and wine would be the body and blood of the Divine, he didn’t say ‘This is a great symbol for my body’. He declared it to be his body.

As powerful as the transformation of the elements of the Eucharist into the Divine, the Infinite into the Finite, is the transformation of our perception which can come from approaching the world in this way- seeing the Divine in the world around us and recognizing it as an element of wholeness by which to heal and be healed. When we begin to see and care for the world and those in it in the same way as the eucharistic bread, the veil falls and the Kingdom of Heaven is made present around us.

Finally, as an underline to some of the explorations I’ve made, we can turn at last to the exemplar of Christian practice – Christ, who in his own moments of introspection, spiritual pilgrimage, and even time of trial did not go to the temple – he went upon the water, into the wilderness and into the garden – to hear the word of the Divine.

In my therapy, I work largely from an Internal Family Systems perspective, which treats the mind as plural and mental parts as their own individuals with their own values, fears, etc. The parts may be misguided at times, but they’re always trying to help. The IFS model also includes the idea of the Self as the core person that is always available to support and lead the other parts and consistently demonstrates calm, clarity, compassion, confidence connection, courage, creativity, and curiosity. In my magic, I often work with colored candles, since I have affinity for colors and fire. My ritual therefore went as follows.

First I moved an ottoman to the side of the room and brought my altar to the center so I could walk around it, in the sense of casting a circle.

The first part of the ritual was evoking the qualities of Self I felt I needed for life without the critical voices to work. I decided I needed courage to go through with this, compassion to keep me sensitive to the needs of others, and clarity to choose how to act.

I lit a black candle and carried it in a circle around the altar, saying “I bind to myself the courage to change my life and live true to who I am.”

I lit a brown candle from the black candle, blew out the black candle, and carried the brown one around the altar, saying “I bind to myself compassion for others and for myself.”

I lit a white candle from the brown one (I would have preferred orange, but I don’t have orange on hand at the moment, so white is a decent stand-in), blew out the brown candle, and carried the white one around the altar, saying “I bind to myself the clarity to know and choose what’s right and fair.”

After that, it was time to actually work with the critical voices. I wanted them to stop hurting me, but I didn’t want lose important insights. I was also aware that they were part of the internal family system and meant well, and so needed to be treated kindly and not banished.

I lit a blue candle and carried it around the altar, saying “I ask the critical voices to give me peace.”

I lit a gold candle from the blue one, set the blue one on the altar rather than blowing it out, and carried the gold one around the altar, saying “I ask the critical voices to leave me wisdom.”

I lit a pink candle from the gold one, set the gold one on the altar, and carried the pink one around, saying “I invite the critical voices to find their joy within the family system.”

After this, I moved the candles to their regular places on the altar and knelt in front of it for a few moments, declaring that whenever I visit the altar, the spell will be renewed. Then I took the very small risk of leaving the candles lit while I pushed the altar back to its place under the window; this felt like a way of embracing the sense of risk I have in quieting the critical voices.

I sat for a few moments at the altar under the window, then blew out the candles, first blue, then gold, then pink, repeating the purpose of each candle as I did so. I stayed until the smoke from the candles dissipated, which is my typical practice of moving from ritual space to normal space with candles.

by Kimberly Israel

I created this ritual to deal with integrating the experience of my own trauma as the experience itself was coming to a close. It gave me a way to handle all the intense feelings: It’s an inescapable fact that this happened to me; I did not in any way consent to this happening to me; the experience changed me and the person I am now depends on that experience having happened; I want to be who I am, but I’m also feeling the sheer pain of the trauma. The purpose of the ritual is to acknowledge the pain, accept that it happened, and move towards letting it go while still embracing the person one has become through the experience. This was a major ritual for me, so there are a lot of sensory pieces; feel free to simplify (or complexify) it to suit your needs.

Materials
I have my own set of correspondences for colors, scents, herbs, etc. with concepts, so I used those for this ritual. Throughout the notes, I’ll be referring to the materials I used, but feel free to use more traditional symbolism or whatever is meaningful to you.

The concepts the ritual works with (and the corresponding materials I used) are:

-Change/death (bronze/copper candle, mint leaves, mint oil, small dish of soil)

-Struggle/banishment (black candle, cloves, vinegar, small tea light candle) [The black, cloves, and vinegar I looked up for traditional symbolism since the concept isn’t in my personal symbol set]

– Wisdom (gold candle, sage, cedarwood oil, small bowl of water)

– Hope (gray candle, thyme, bergamot oil, empty bottle to blow across or some sort of pipes or whistle)

– Trust/renewal (rainbow 7-day candle, soap bubbles – there are recipes online to make your own if you choose)
Preparation
Set up the materials in your ritual space on either one large table/stand or five small ones with change/death to the north, struggle/banishment to the west, wisdom to the south, hope to the east, and trust/renewal in the center. The ritual will start in the north and move counterclockwise and then into the center. (I realize this is nontraditional, but it’s what worked for me). If you’re using one large table, make sure you can easily reach the center when the time comes. I did the ritual barefoot out on my patio using a couple tables, some stacked stone blocks, and a garden toolbox, but it’ll work just as well wearing shoes and moving around your kitchen table.

Ritual
I didn’t do any formal opening or closing, but if you want to do so, there’s no reason not to. After any opening you do, approach the northern space. Sprinkle mint leaves in a circle around the candle, and eat one if you wish. Anoint the candle with the mint oil. Mix a little bit of oil with a little bit of soil and smear it on your forehead and inner wrists. Say the following or something similar in your own words: “My world fell apart and I felt as if I had died.” Light the candle and spend as long as you wish meditating on that part of your experience.

When you are ready, move to the western space, carrying the candle you lit in the northern space. Sprinkle cloves in a circle around the candle, and eat a pinch if you wish (I used ground cloves; eating a whole clove might be unpleasant, though my minute of research suggests that it’s not dangerous – please check for yourself before ingesting anything you’re unsure of). Anoint the candle with the vinegar. Light the tea light. Say the following or something similar in your own words: “I tried everything to banish the suffering; my life felt like an unending struggle.” Light the candle (not the tea light you just lit) from the candle you lit in the previous part of the ritual. If you feel comfortable doing so, you may choose to wet your fingers with vinegar and use your damp fingers to snuff out the tea light. Otherwise, you can blow out the tea light or leave it burning as you choose. (Please do not wet your fingers and then touch the wick of the tea light if you’ve substituted something flammable for the vinegar). Spend as long as you wish meditating on that part of your experience.

When you are ready, move to the southern space, carrying the candle you lit in the western space. Sprinkle sage in a circle around the candle, and eat a bit if you wish. Anoint the candle with the cedarwood oil. Mix a few drops of oil in the water and use the scented water to wash off the soil from your forehead and wrists. Say the following or something similar in your own words: “Although I didn’t choose my pain, in time I learned wisdom through it.” Light the candle from the one you lit in the part of the ritual just previous. Spend as long as you wish meditating on that part of your experience.

When you are ready, move to the eastern space, carrying the candle you lit in the western space. Sprinkle thyme in a circle around the candle, and eat a bit if you wish. Anoint the candle with the bergamot oil. Rub a bit of oil on the mouth of the bottle or, if you are using an instrument, rub the oil somewhere where it will not cause damage. Blow a few notes across the bottle or on the instrument or whistle (they don’t have to be different notes; repeating the same sound a few times is fine). Say the following or something similar in your own words: “With wisdom came hope and the ability to see my life as more than pain.” Light the candle from the one you lit in the part of the ritual just previous. Spend as long as you wish meditating on that part of your experience.

When you are ready, move to the center space, carrying the candle you lit in the eastern space. Say the following or something similar in your own words: “Changes beyond my control brought suffering that I couldn’t avoid. In order to survive, I had to grow in wisdom and become a person who could endure. That endurance brought hope and the ability to trust [God/Goddess/Spirits/Life/Divinity]. Now that the mists of pain are parting, I embrace the trust that brought me through and turn my heart to renewal.” Light the 7-day candle from the candle you lit in the part of the ritual just previous. Blow some bubbles in all directions and watch the colors dance. Spend as long as you wish meditating on your path forward. You may use a closing now if you wish, or just blow out the smaller candles and clean up. If you can do so safely, let the large candle burn down on its own. Otherwise, light it whenever you can until it’s burned down. In either case, look at the candle often to remind yourself that you’ve survived, grown, and deepened your trust in the divine as you understand it.

by Dr Kennan Elkman Taylor

Heathen Magic is an account of the exploration of and reconnection with my own heritage and ancestry in the context of a healing vocation, which itself is not simply defined by my learned trade as a medical practitioner. Further than this, it is also how this magical perspective can inform the changes that are upon us in health and well-being, although these are largely unrecognised or denied by most, not least those within the medical profession itself. Simply put, I see that medicine itself demands a more mythic and magical perspective for its own renewal, and that a heathen context is essential for this.

Until recently my personal vocation was as a medical doctor in modern clinical practice, but the journey of discovery and reconnection inevitably created conflict in being a practitioner in the modern era, such that I could ultimately no longer sustain it. Were I to have maintained this conflict, my health would have been at risk in a concerning way and, were it not for my knowledge that a health crisis is a key element of the shamanic calling, I would then either become another ‘medical statistic’ in the death column or languish in some sort of dissatisfied or depressed retirement. Neither of these options suits my temperament, so at this time and stage of my life, it is time to put my professional experience into a larger and more creative context.

One option would be to see my personal journey through medicine as a critical study of the modern profession and its predominantly scientific world-view. Some colleagues and many other observers have followed this path, which has a valid place in comment about a profession that is ‘losing its way’ in the mire of science, politics and big business; but this is not my way. Mine is to ask questions about how and why it has lost its way, and I make the assumption that we all know it has, even if only intuitively, and that a critical approach can, and maybe should, also be creative one. So initially I followed the lead of Jung and began to look for the archetypal patterns in medicine and healing, which led me to shamanism and my own cultural roots.

Shamanism, in its modern context, I see as the most holistic approach to the art of healing. However, my own ‘exploration and reconnection’ has taken a particular route within this archetypal complex. The exploration has been external, as evidenced by my involvement with Jung, Druidry, as well as other significant individuals and organisations. Internally, my dreams, intuitions and psychic experiences have both informed the external and led me to a heathen heritage that has a predominantly magical orientation, and hence the title of this work.
Following a family tragedy and a serious illness a generation ago, I was drawn to Druidry and became connected with the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids, or OBOD. I found that this gave me a context in which I could ‘restructure’ my life and direction. As I did this I was progressively drawn to the Ovate path of the tripartite structure espoused within OBOD. For several years I was actively involved in seeing whether the further exploration of the Ovate path had a place within the Order, but found that issues such as magic in healing and cultural issues around the Germanic aspects of my heritage made this unlikely, so my exploration drifting into a more solo journey. I have since become accustomed to this liminal existence, so as a kind of ‘hedge-druid’ I associate it with my shamanic vocation.

To the title Heathen Magic: Heathen is an Old English or Anglo-Saxon word meaning ‘inhabiting open country’, and thus related to ‘heath’. It is therefore related to nature and the environment in a fundamental way; other more modern meanings of heathen are thus prejudiced in response to some of the dynamic patterns briefly explored immediately above. A more detailed and somewhat speculative etymological exploration may indicate more associations with ‘health’ and healing’, even of the ‘holy’.
I have chosen the word ‘heathen’ in the title deliberately. Most would use the term ‘pagan’, but this is essentially a Christian word to describe the non-believer and not the way the Anglo-Saxons would describe themselves, nor their spiritual identity and orientation. Heathen is an Anglo-Saxon word that has an interesting etymology, as it can be used to describe the spiritual orientation of someone not of a monotheistic faith (Christianity, Judaism, Islam), but in the modern vernacular is somewhat derogatory and associated with someone ‘uneducated’ or ‘uncultured’. In this it follows the debasement of and loss of depth in the authentic meaning of the word, as has occurred with ‘myth’ and ‘magic’.
This attitude also involves the depreciation of all things Anglo-Saxon; the language being seen generally in that light, which is quite an irony when it dominates our modern life and world as the English language. The Anglo-Saxon era has, until recently, also been referred to as the ‘Dark Ages’, with the impression given that it was fundamentally brutal and warlike. This impression carries over into swear words; itself of interest, because these words often have a magical sense and meaning. As an experiment, try saying the ones beginning with ‘f’ and ‘c’ aloud and feel their power; that is, if you can get beyond the prejudices associated with them! A more integrated sexual and magical view of life is probably what has brought about such repression, because such a view assists our individual development and directs our destiny, fate or ‘wyrd’.

Of course, Christianity has been the main repressive protagonist in this process. In many ways this religion succeeded where the military Romans failed. The ‘reasons’ for this are complex, but I would argue that it has created an undercurrent that is still psychologically operating in our time. For example, my experience of modern Druidry is that this Christian influence remains strong when considering shamanic areas such as health and healing, sexuality and power.
I further believe this is one reason that the revival of polytheistic religion has settled on matters Celtic in the English speaking world; painting a picture of the Celts as artistic, musical, and generally the converse of our impression of the Anglo-Saxon. Yet these Celtic people are Germanic cousins, who, with the Anglo-Saxons, kind of ‘book-ended’ the Roman occupation, coming as they did from neighbouring areas of Germania. Yet my clear position, supported by an archetypal perspective, is that these two peoples form a relatively uninterrupted continuum and are best seen collectively as ‘Anglo-Celtic’.
Magic was – and is – an integral part of the heathen world-view. It is beyond the scope of this work to go into the detail of what is a rich theology, mythology and cosmology here; although I would like to point out that there are some interesting connections to the Celtic culture, as espoused within OBOD. It is fairly clear now that the threefold structure within these cultures is a common – archetypal – feature. The king-priest is at the apex, and corresponds to the Druid, although I also detect a connection with the lawyer here. The magician may relate to the Ovate or Vate, and I wonder here about the connection of this (more Latin) term with Odin, or Woden, as he is known in England? The Bard, or Anglo-Saxon ‘Scop’, has a more continuous function into the second millennium.

In Germanic culture Woden is paradoxically both a god and an ancestor; he exists in many lines of kings, indicating either a historical or mythological function. Is Woden a continuation of Merlin, with his original name of Myrrdin – one being of the woods and the other of the sea? Woden is a colossus who straddles the priest-king and magical functions, as well as being a champion of poetry. He seems to have emerged more primarily in England, rather than being simply a Germanic or Scandinavian import; is this a progression from the Celtic world-view, and even one that may have been exported back to other parts of Northern Europe?
All this is tempting and speculative, although I find it interesting and fascinating: yet it is also eminently real. In my own personal case the gods – or ancestors – were telling me: “You will not be following your vocation, your ‘wyrd’; what sort of existence would that be?” As is often the case in the magical realms, the gods indicated that medical practice was no longer part of my path, but have now left it up to me to discover what is… although, as in dreams, they continue to provide information, like food for the journey. Medicine has been my route into the magic of the heathen world, but it is not the only route, which I hope this work will clarify. Heathen magic has medicine and well-being as one of its domains, but there is also creativity, poetry, sexuality… and more.

Here in the late afternoon of my – this – life, I have set down the tools of my former trade. I am now in a space to discuss, share and bring to the light of day my experience and knowledge; a time of contemplation and proclamation, as the liminal mask of the evening encroaches, and I pick up new tools. I have a sense that this period and these tools are within the magic of my heritage; being the voice of our ancestors, in a time we sorely need this kind of discussion – and the ensuing action.

This essay is part of the Introduction to a forthcoming work Heathen Magic, that is the sequel to Just Add Blood.

by Joanna Van Der Hoeven

In a recent article published in Paganism 101 – An Introduction to Paganism by 101 Pagans, Emma Restall Orr wrote about Pagan ethics, and how they can be achieved and viable through a religion that has no single central authority or god figure.

Using nature as the inspiration for ethics, Pagans are able to pick and choose not only within their various traditions, but also within their own environments; those environments that they currently work and live in and, therefore, hopefully understand and commune with on a deep level. This can create a relativism that may not work for the broad spectrum that is Paganism, however, Restall-Orr uses the notion of pantheism to help sort out that issue; essentially, for something to be ethical, it should be for the good of all, not just the one, or the single environment.

Such an ethical code is in part relativistic, requiring that each decision be made with a comprehensive and wakeful acknowledgement of the immediate context, with all its layers of ecosystems and interwoven relationships. However, its code also requires deference to the fact that every aspect of that context is essentially rooted deep within the totality of nature, and the effect of that moment’s decision will shimmer through every part of the whole.

Yet such an understanding only goes so far. Where the practice of Paganism is truly ethical, it is because the experience of that divine wholeness is also present, flowing into the teachings together with an understanding of will, and influencing each decision with the wisdom of selfless responsibility. Emma Restall Orr, Paganism 101, Moon Books 2013.
It is so simple a way to define a person’s ethics – yet why do so many people, including Pagans, seem to struggle with this concept in their daily lives?

It requires a profound sense of selflessness to live in such a way. Paganism, New Age, Self-Help and modern psychology are so focused on the self, and the betterment or improvement of the self, that all else can easily fall by the wayside. This is reinforced by a constant barrage of marketing contradictions, wherein we are either being told that we’re not good enough(and require their product in order to be good enough) or that we deserve it (whatever it is that they are selling). In order to work on principles that work for the good of the entire world, we have to step beyond the bounds of our own egos, our own little worlds created in our minds and also those of our physical environments in order to truly walk our talk.
It’s not easy. The ego exists to ensure its own existence. It hollers and chatters away inside our minds, making much of its importance to our unique perception of our self. Without it, it says, we lose our identity, and especially as Pagans, that identity is what sets us apart from the crowd. This voice is also the voice that makes us feel better about ourselves in comparison to those of other faiths (other Pagan paths included). It is also the root of self-importance and ego-based power plays, both within the Pagan community and the wider web of being. It constantly screams for attention: from the media, from other Pagans, from anyone who will listen and justify this self-importance (yes, I do see the irony of this in a written article – please bear with me).

Yet we are only human. We make mistakes. We learn about how to deal with this voice within our minds, should we choose to through careful consideration and making changes to our lifestyle. We will never be 100% über-Pagan, but we can change little things in order to slowly drop away the ego and work towards integration, taking into consideration the whole rather than our selves.
For instance, when was the last time you did something in return for nothing? Something for your community, whichever one that may be, without the expectation of a reward, a thank you, an acknowledgement of some kind? We are so used to being given something for something in our modern capitalist society that we simply expect it now as par for the course. We join an organisation not only because we believe in its values, but because we’ll get something from it – take RSPB membership. Not only will you help save wildlife, but if you join before August 31 2014 you’ll get a free book, “Handbook of Garden Wildlife”. Woodland Trust membership right now includes a free tree dedication. Most Pagan organisations will have a magazine or newsletter for members at the very least. We’ve become so used to a capitalist society that we are always expecting something in return for hard work or monetary funding. Very few organisations can exist now without offering something for members. It is a sad commentary on how we live in today’s world, in my opinion.

At this time of year, when the first harvests are coming in, is a great time to give back in whatever way you can to your local environment, the community or the world at large. We are blessed with food on our plates and roofs over our heads, things which many other humans are not. We are not being shot at or suffering greatly in any similar way in the modern Western world, for the most part. What can we give back for all that we have received?

Yet it isn’t just a case of giving back – we must completely change our lifestyle in order to ensure that giving back is done regularly, and not just as and when we feel like it. In this sense, a modern concept of sacrifice comes into play, where we sacrifice our time, our ways of being, our comfort in order to benefit the whole. This is not altruism in any sense – it is simply the most ethical way we can exist on this planet for much longer.
I am vegan not because I will be healthier in my own self. I did not spend my savings on solar-panels for the roof because of any paltry return on investment. I do not recycle because it will make me a good Pagan. I do not clean up litter in my village because of any personal reward or recognition. I do not write letters to MP’s to justify my own self-importance. None of these things are done for my self – they are done with the entirety of existence at the very core of the action, thinking of the future ancestors, whether animal, vegetable or mineral. This does not give me a sense of pride or self-righteousness. It is difficult to consider every action in regards to the whole. It’s not an easy life – many sacrifices have been and will continue to be made. There are much easier ways to live that would provide much more personal gratification. And therein lies the greatest of the First World problems.

As Pagans, we need to step beyond the boundaries of our self. We can use the self as a starting point and then work towards a life in service to that which most inspires us – nature itself. The gods are not there to inspire us to become better people but to show us that there is much more beyond our own self – we need to drop that sense of need, that desire for recognition and simply live in a way that would benefit the whole of existence. To quote Shakespeare: “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Joanna van der Hoeven is a Druid and author who currently lives in Suffolk, UK. Visit Joanna’s website.

by Barbara Stühlmeyer

The story I want to share happened in the 1980. We had just moved to a wonderful tiny village in northern Germany not too far from the University we were studying. We had a charming old cottage with a fitting number of rooms for our instruments and books, a lovely garden and as it really was a very small village with much space for our long walks in nature. The quietness was so helpful for our studies and the work was pure joy. The church we worked at as musicians and me as a sacristan too was a wonderful little gothic building with matching interior, a nice organ and the best of it, it was directly next to our cottage so we had a 30 second walk to work.

The parish gave us a warm welcome and did everything to make us feel integrated. One day a few weeks after we moved in, a neighbour rang on our door. He looked serious and after we sat down in the living room he said to us: “Our neighbour the baker has died.” We were shocked, because we knew very well that this kind man who every morning sold us his wonderful aromatic buns was not of old age. Indeed it was a heart attack that ended his life so immediately.
“You are the first neighbour, cantor,” proceeded the man, “so it´s your duty to carry the coffin”. My husband was slightly shocked because he had never been confronted with such a task. Of course he was more than willing to help, but there were still a few questions. “Who will carry him with me?” was the first. “Has ever anyone fallen into the grave when the coffin is lowered down” was the second. Günther answered the second first and affirmed this with the addition, that such things only used to happen under severe rain. A poor consolation in a rainy November. Günther then came back to the first question and told us about the other men who had to carry the coffin: “There is Walter from the other side of the street, he is the second neighbour, Karl from the green house two hundred meters afar, he is the third neighbour, and myself, I am the fourth, our neighbour explained. We were astonished, because Günther was far from being the forth neighbour if anybody could count from one to four. There were as far as we could see 10 houses between the baker and his cottage.

The story behind this tradition is easily understood. The thinking that led to it is a form of ancestry, seen in the residents of the houses of the village. Its rooting back in pagan times, when the villages were founded. The first inhabitants formed a network of neighbourhoods with certain responsibilities as for example the participation in the funeral of a deceased neighbour. And the first neighbour of the old times remained the first, even if new houses where build. Neighbourhood in this region was seen as a form of ancestry, related to the hearth of the house.

To combine the network of neighbourhood with the concept of ancestry made sense since it granted, that the threads of the network remained stable in times of trouble, when a family of the tribe dies out or decides to move.
In the Middle Ages cities the guilds where in charge on behalf of organising a funeral, caring for the widows and orphans. They also organised the commemoration of the deceased.

In the little village we lived in that was in the first weeks also a task for the neighbourhood. The neighbours met to hold the wake, they organised the funeral as well as the requiem, they announced the death of their companion in the newspaper, they printed invitation cards for the funeral and the after death party and joined the commemoration mass six weeks after the funeral as well as the so called “Jahresamt”, a commemoration mass hold one year after the person had died, in which all the relatives, friends and neighbours met again. One special prayer that I only experienced in this parish, was in the service for the deceased which ended with a prayer for the next one in the middle of the community who will be dying. When we prayed it I sat beneath a very old man who prayed wholeheartedly, because he knew very well, that he could be this next person we just prayed for. It felt like a view on a strong connection of this special tribe and made the concept of ancestry strongly palpably.

There are many other threads of pagan traditions around funerals in Germany. One of them is the feeding of the deceased that took place around Samhain. In Munich it was common until 1980 to bring eggs and bacon to the graves of the loved. And there are still some families who put a plate for the deceased on the table to enable him to join the family meal. Hopefully, this form of ancestral networks will remain alive and inspire others to build new long lasting threads.