Six Days til Mother's Night

I'm looking forward to Mother's Night on the 20th, just my personal, quiet celebration--like I do most things--a Mother's song (to the tune of Greensleeves) I found and a pine candle I bought. For a display, I thought I'd bring in a few sprigs (I'm not big on denuding my trees) of evergreen and add some apples and nuts from the grocery store. Frigg, Freya, Idun and Sunna will be the honored goddesses, and I will ask blessings on all the grandmothers, mothers, daughters and sisters I know. If that's not good mojo, I don't know what is.

About Idun (Idunn, Iduna, Idhuna): Ramblings

Idun ("She Who Renews") is the Norse goddess of youth, who grows the magic apples of immortality that keep the gods young. Her husband Bragi was god of poetry.

Remember Pagan immortality doesn't mean "forever pacing in heaven." It's about the never-ending cycles of renewal and death that we observe and in which we participate. Despite all the fearmongering, ancient and modern, there's no uncertainty in spring and winter; ya gotta love that. And when the sun and earth runs out, there are other stars, and when the stars all run out, there is still the universe, and when the universe runs out, there is rest and another universe. Do your worst, you dirty, carbon dioxide polluters, you can't outdo the gods!

But about Idun...

Loki, the god of mischief and fire, was once responsible for arranging Her abduction by the giant Thajazi. Without Her apples, the gods soon began to age, and threatened Loki until He agreed to rescue Her, which He accomplished by borrowing Freyja's falcon robe and fleeing with Idun who He had changed to a nut. (This story must be a season-cycle tale; there are lots of them like this, apple to nut, etc.)

Some say that Gerd the Giantess is another aspect of Idun. Freyr brought her eleven golden apples and Draupnir. Sunna may also appear as the aspect Gerd, whose beautiful white arms, raised aloft, illuminated sea and sky. Freyr could see her from a great distance and fell in love.

As we are in love when the morning sun rises or when She returns from southern climes as She will begin to do on Mother's Night, gracing us with her light and warmth a little more each day. Even in the coldest winter, the longest night (literally), she holds the promise of renewal. I'd say that's a miracle or...humankind's propensity for hope. In either case, it's worth celebrating.

End of Ramble.

Somehow Marie Osmond Found Her Way Onto My Blog

...it must have been love. Being Mormon (or Catholic or Heathen or Jewish) does not wholly define each or any of us! It's the reason I don't care for the word "religion," because it tends to categorize people into slots. We are so much more, and our individual, personal beliefs so much more subtle and complex than these religion packages. Marie Osmond shows what a classy lady and a good mom she is. Read here.

Among a Host...

Yesterday, Sunna was gentle on my head. Sif worked with me hand-in-hand. Odin and Hel reserve places for me among the honored, but I think I will not stay long with either of them. I am too much a Thor's woman, and we are more concerned with life, for which death is only the fertilizer.

The First of May

Walpurgis Night from Wikipedia:


From the Mystical Cauldron website:

Celebrated on May 1st, this is a lusty and glorious Sabbat, rich in World history and tradition. It is called by many names, including Walpugisnacht (Germany), Sheila-na-Gig (Ireland), Tithe Day (also Germany), and Festival of Pan (Greece).

Beltane Around The World

In Britain, the royal family still burns a balefire each May Eve to keep the family line going.

In Norway, old brooms are thrown into the balefire and new ones are dedicated to their purpose. .

In Scotland the balefire was lit for the 'need fire', the only non-ritual fire allowed to burn on this day.

The Norse believed you had to sleep at home on Beltane Eve and keep the hearth fire burning strongly until dawn.

In Wales the balefires were kept burning for three days, because 3 was a sacred number to the Celts.

In the Alps of Italy, the festival is Floralia. Flowers and plants are picked on May 1st and a very potent wine is made from them. Each year, all the old wine has to be comsumed before midnight and more flowers and plants gathered for the next year's batch.

In China, it is considered good luck to eat noodles in the Springtime.

Beltane Traditions

Mischievous fairies were believed to abound at Beltane and great care was taken to protect against them. Daisy chains were woven just prior to ritual and places around children's necks for protection.

A hot coal was placed inside the butter churns to keep fairies out ot them.

Livestock was fed fresh dill for protection.

Bells were hung on altars and worn on the ankles of dancers and ritual goers. The ringing of the bells was believed to hurt the fairies' ears and keep them away.

Brooms were ridden hobbyhorse-style over fields and through pastures in symbolic fertility rites.

Ashes from the Beltane fire were scattered over the fields to bless and protect them. The ashes were also placed in a small bag and worn as fertility amulets by infertile women.

Special summer pastures for the livestock were used only after May 1st since fields were the realm of the Pooka from Samhain to Beltane.

Livestock animals were driven through or between waning balefires for purification, protection and healing.

Although May is the month of the sacred marriage of the God & Goddess, it is considered unlucky for humans to marry in May, which is why June is the traditional month for marriages.

The term 'Maying' refers to celebrating all of the traditions of May Day. It was traditional to go on outings and picnics in the woods or meadows to enjoy the beauty of Nature, pick flowers and/or make love. Couples who consumated their relationship in this way were considered to have had a "greenwood marriage". Children conceived while 'A-Maying' are born in February and are referred to as "Merry Begots".

Dancing around the Maypole may be the best known Beltane tradition.

Comment: I was born in February. :)

From the fish eaters website:

Sadly, the word "Walpurgisnacht" is nowadays mostly associated with pagans, who see the day as a mere adjunct to Beltane (May Day) and even dare to use the label "Walpurgisnacht" for their festivities. Where Walpurgisnacht is celebrated, it is usually celebrated wrongly, in a non-Catholic -- sometimes even anti-Catholic -- manner. Odes to May, Spring, fertility, and the earth, the playing of pranks -- these are the things most often thought of when "Walpurgisnacht" comes to mind, and thoughts of the great Saint are all too rare.

...But it doesn't have to be that way. Bonfires-- practically ubiquitous in Catholic celebrations but which pagans also light today in honor of the god (demon) Bel -- recall the divine light that illuminated Wallburga's monastery, and as their hypnotic beauty is enjoyed, one can pray a litany to St. Walburga. The ancient Swedish tradition of collecting branches at dusk to decorate homes? Make those branches oak branches, and decorate them with symbols of Christ and the great Apostles to Germany to recall the Benedectines' victory over paganism, as perfectly seen in the story of St. Boniface and the "sacred oak." As to foods, German fare and beer brewed by Benedictines or their brothers, the Trappists, sound perfect.

Now, because Walpurgisnacht does fall on the same date as Beltane Eve, this will be, for pagans, a night much like Hallowe'en (the Eve of All Saints) insofar as the pagan Samhain coincides calendrically with our Feasts for the dead. Therefore, prayers for pagans and for witches who hold their sabats tonight would be a wonderful thing. May St. Walburga -- who, with St. Boniface, her brothers, and other Benedictines -- brought the good news of Christ to Germany intercede for them now and bring them to Jesus through His Church.

Comment: The veneer that Christians gloss over their appropriation of pagan customs is thin indeed. By the way, Walburga was made a saint only after it was discovered that oil was oozing from her remains. Icky!

from the Irminenschaft website:

Walburga Frouwa [An Freya] Walburga Frouwa is Ing Fro's twin sister, and most popular of all Goddesses among Heathen of eldritch times as well as today. In the Norse sources, Walburga Frouwa is named strictly by her title (Freya) as is her brother Ing Fro (Frey): Lady and Lord, respectively, and its from this association of name that Wicca’s ‘Lord and Lady’ is drawn. The Frouwa is infamous for her abilities at magan-craft and witching, and it's of no surprise to find her as the patroness of witches and the center of praise on Walburganaht (a long-standing witches’ holiday). Walburga Frouwa’s wain is drawn by cats, which are thought to be sacred to her -the popular image of a witch accompanied by a (black) cat originates from the association of the felines to the Goddess.

Comment: There is continuing discussion about the identity of goddesses mentioned in the Northern literature. Because their roles overlap, this is especially true between Frigg (wife of Odin) and Freya. They are, however, distinct entities, Frigg being of the Aesir, Freya of the Vanir, and their natures vary accordingly.

From the Central States Heathens reminder:

Walburg is better known as Walpurgisnacht or May Eve. Walburg is a Goddess of our Folk, combining some of the traits of Her better-known peers. Reflect on Freya, Frigga and Hel as the repository of the glorious dead; then you will have an idea of Walburg's nature. On this day, pour a horn of Mead upon the Earth in memory of our heroes.

Good Walpurgisnacht and Happy May Day!

A Heathen Child's Bedtime Prayer

Thanks to Rod for sharing this link.

Magnificent Mani
God of the Moon
God of Dreams
Protector of Children...

Help me to have no bad dreams,
Keep me warm,
and safe in my bed.
Hail Mani!

Woe Is Me

I'm signed in from my Dad's computer. My own was eaten alive by a virus even while I battled to save it. My anti-viral/security software, Norton, was also eaten in this voracious attack. That's $170 for the last renewal down the drain. I wonder how much I will pay before the end. Today I'll try to do a system recovery, but I'm pretty sure I will lose all my files. Fortunately, all my travel photos, most of my garden photos and a few family pics are backed up on CDs. (*pats herself on the back for that.)

To those of you with whom I am in email contact, I will be checking only sporadically, so expect my reply rate to be slower.

On a high note, I met with the friendly folk at Rheinwood Hearth last night, saw their hof, the solar cross and held impromptu sumbel in observance of Spring. Our unrehearsed homage was casual but struck just the right notes under a clear, cool, springtime sky. It was my first taste of mead, and though I only drank a few sips I had a bit of a hangover at around three am. In all, it was a good evening with good food among good people.

Thanks and Hail to the folks of Rheinwood Hearth!

The Northern Spirit

The Northern spirit is dissatisfied with a desert god.

In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors are half concealed, but from whose chimneys the smoke cheerfully ascends....We enjoy now, not an Oriental, but a Boreal leisure, around warm stoves and fireplaces, and watch the shadow of motes in the sunbeams.
.
Sometimes our fate grows too homely and familiarly serious ever to be cruel. Consider how for three months the human destiny is wrapped in furs. The good Hebrew Revelation takes no cognizance of all this cheerful snow. Is there no religion for the temperate and frigid zones? We know of no scripture which records the pure benignity of the gods on a New England winter night. The best scripture, after all, records but a meager faith. Its saints live reserved and austere. Let a brave, devout one spend the year in the woods of Maine or Labrador, and see if the Hebrew Scriptures speak adequately to their condition and experience, from the setting in of winter to the breaking up of the ice.

- italics from A Winter Walk, Henry David Thoreau (Henry David Thoreau's forebears, as well as it can be traced, were English, French and Scottish.)

A Northern Prayer for Thursday

Vaygar Elmersson has posted this prayer...

Njord, god of harbors and seas close to land, help us to remember the cargoes of wealth that float to our doors daily from the wonderful universe in which we live. Though our misfortunes may rise and fall like the tides, the chance of prosperity, like the eternal sea brimming with fish, is still there. Like the salt-sea spray, awaken us to the possibilities that surround us, so that our nets may be cast wide and return full of life’s gifts.

HAIL NJORD!!

In the Northern tradition, there is a concept called Wyrd. It is the belief that our actions and of others shape (or weave) our possible futures. In practice, it means that we are not limited to a single future, predetermined by a higher power. Instead, we possess the power to either worsen or improve the course of our lives. There are limitations; the past, the environment, including the acts of other people, but we are not powerless. Our choices count. It means that we are responsible for our own failures and successes, but it also means we have power over our own lives. The prayer above reflects the belief in Wyrd. I like it because it allows for the life-affirming principles of positive action and hope.

For the Folks at Jotun's Bane Kindred

Hobojesus

I do hope my readers have all discovered the blog I added to my blogroll recently, the one titled Caught a glimpse of Jesus down by the railroad tracks.... This young writer is a true talent, and a man with something to say, by golly.

Thanks to Tracie the Red for tipping me off to Tim.

Of Ships and Quakers

I took a break from following the Sparling line of my lineage in order to rest my brain and allow some time for my internet queries to possibly yield some information. In the meanwhile, my dad fed me a tidbit about his Tripp ancestors. He told me that his mother had said that five Tripps had taken passage to America from Europe together. Well, that was something I might be able to discover!

I haven't found any record of just that tale, but I did find something as interesting and might be the origin of the family story of five Tripps. Except for the commonality of ships, I'm not sure why the story set me in mind of this folk song, The Sloop John B.

The Sloop John B.
Lee Hays/Carl Sandburg

We come on the sloop John B, my grandfather and me.
Around Nassau town we did roam.
Drinkin' all night. Got into a fight.
Well, I feel so break up, I want to go home.
(I want to go home. So now,)

Hoist up the John B's sails.
See how the main sails set.
Call for the captain ashore, let me go home.
(Let me go home.)
Let me go home.
(I want to go home.)
I want to go home.
(Why don't you let me go home?)
Well, I feel so broke up, I want to go home.
(I want to go home.)

Well the First mate, he got drunk.
Broke up the Captain's trunk.
The Constable had to come and take him away.
Sheriff John Stone (Sheriff John Stone),
why don't you leave me alone?
Yeah, Yeah (Why don't you leave me alone?)
Well, I feel so break up, I want to go home.
(I want to go home. So, now)

Well, the poor cook he caught the fits.
Threw away all of my grits.
Then he took and he ate up all of my corn.
Let me go home.
(I want to go home.)
I want to go home.
(Why don't you let me go home?)

This is the worst trip since I've been born.
(Since I have been born. So, now)

Hoist up the John B's sails. (John B. sails)
See how the main sails set. (Main sails set.)
Call for the captain ashore, let me go home.
(Let me go home.)
Let me go home.
(I want to go home.)
I want to go home.
(Why don't you let me go home?)
Well, I feel so break up, I want to go home.
(I want to go home.)

When my ancestor, John Tripp, immigrated to America he was on a ship of colonists, many of whom eventually became related by marriage. It was a kind of Founder's Ship. John Tripp, my ancestor, has been called "The Founder" by some, because so many individuals can now trace their lineage back to him. Below is a letter originally written in the hand of my ancestor, an immigrant from England. It begins with a paraphrase by Holly Tamer, and credit for interpretation of the hand-written document goes to Carl Boyer. The "persacuted people" John writes about refers to the persecution of the Quakers.

By his own hand, he wrote that he had 11 brothers and sisters, "and much kindred...was put an apprentice to a ship carpenter of Thoresby 3 miles from Alford in Lincolnshire where I served 7 years...and after that I bound myself to Frances East for 4 pounds a year for 4 yeares who...after I had served him for about a year and a half sold me to Robert Jafra then living in Boston...and boston church members persacuting som to the ofending of others my master came to Rhod Island with the said parsacuted people and I with him and his wife being sickly and they could not git their maid to Rhode Island with them because Boston members cried out against Rhod Island people whom the said members had expelled from them therefore my master was forced to se.. me to Randal Houlding of portsmouth on Rhode Island and I served a while and after bought out the rest of time of him and after a whil I married a wife hose madon name was mary paine I being about thirty or twenty eight years old or there abouts and the Lord hath given us Eleven Children of which one is ded the eldest is 29 yeares old and upward this 17th the Second month 1670 prased be the our Rock who hath been help and unto us at all times given what thou please it is marcy from thee to receive anything for the Earth."

Secularization of Europe

from A Sermon by Fr. Davenport, 13 January 2008
Shortly before he died, Nouwen returned to Holland to lecture at his seminary. There were just thirty-six students instead of the hundreds which had been there when he was a student. A century ago, 98 percent of Dutch people attended church. Now less than 15 percent do. “Almost half the church buildings in Holland have been destroyed or converted into restaurants, art galleries, or condominiums.”

Yancey writes, “Whenever I visit Europe and see the mostly hollow shells of an institution that dominated the continent for fifteen hundred years, I wonder if the same pattern will play out here [in the United States].” Yancey has hope that our country will “resist the avalanche of disbelief” because individual churches here have long been sending people on mission. Those on mission learn about suffering from the church in China, passionate evangelism from Africa, and intercessory prayer in Korea. “Just as nothing threatens my faith like a visit to agnostic Europe,” Yancey writes, “nothing invigorates my faith more than a visit to churches in non-Western countries.”

from the blog On the Go with Bo!

My parents in-law live in Utrecht, and we come here often. They have recently moved into a beautiful apartment on the canal, which used to be an old monastery and church. So what I find amusing is that the only place in this world where I've seen churches being converted into apartments is Holland. Seems like the church going population in Holland has decreased drastically over the past decades, that the churches don't have enough revenue and thus are being sold off to private developers. Only in Holland!

Well, not only in Holland. Jason at The Wild Hunt wrote today about post-Christian anxiety. Here are a couple of pictures I took in Europe, examples of the secularization. The first two of the Vondelkerk are in Amsterdam, but the second, that one of the elaborate, church paintings was in Scotland in what is now a restaurant dining hall. It's where we had our strictly secular supper one evening.

The Vondelkerk, view from the end of the block.

office address plaque at the Vondelkerk and bulletin for the opera to be performed in its hall; it still hosts weddings, too

Wine in the West V

continued...

Concerning mead, I've previously shared Northern European literature, specifically passages from Y Goddodin and Beowulf in my post "Honor and Courage," where I discussed (overlong, I'm sure) mead's ritual significance among the warrior elite. It doesn't end there though. This Cult of Mead was no passing fad, but an ancient (evident from archaeology) and pervasive (as we see from its predominance in literature) aspect of our pagan past, especially of Northern folk whom Christians came to call Heathens, among whom the rituals were preserved long into the Christian age. Preserved so long, in fact, that modern Americans, Vinlanders, if you will, continue to practice them today. Perfect examples are "tailgating," toasts to the newlyweds (and just about every other adult social milestone) and the ubiquitous New Year's Eve drinking bout.

Obviously, various Christian denominations advocate different attitudes toward alcohol from that of total abstinence to a stance of almost indifferent tolerance. Nevertheless, the consumption of the Heathen and that of the Christian are distinctly different, or would be, if Christians actually adhered to the traditions of consumption within their churches. No denomination, as far as I know, lauds the drinker as among our Heathen ancestors. No denomination, as far as I know, celebrates, as modern Vinlanders do, the heroic drinker, that one who can drink all others "under the table" or "holds his drink well." This admiration is a legacy of our Heathen past.

Among the Heathens, there's no proscription against alcoholic consumption, rather a man who can drink and hold it well is admired. The Heathen recognizes the simple and domestic virtues of ale, mead and wine.

By the fire one should drink ale, one should slide over the ice,
buy a lean horse and a rusty blade,
fatten the horse at home and a dog on the farmstead.
-Havamol 83

Not very much need a man give,
often you get praise for a little;
with half a loaf and a tilted cup
I've got myself a companion.
-Havamol 52

He also recognizes the dangers of excess; "The heron of forgetfulness hovers over the ale-drinking; he steals men's wits...A man shouldn't hold onto the cup but drink mead in moderation..." -Havamol 13 and 19.

As for the heroic drinker, there are two ways of looking at that. There's the warrior who drinks to seal his vow as in Beowulf and Y Gododdin, then there's the hero of drink, whom I feel developed in a later age than the first. This type of heroic drinker appears in the Icelandic Sagas. Egil Skallagrimsson has to be the greatest of these:

Then the ale was brought in, an exceptionally strong brew. Each man was given a horn to drink from, and the host made a special point of letting Egil and his men drink as much as possible. Egil drank incessantly for a long time at first, and when his companions became incapacitated, he drank what they could not finish as well. -Egil's Saga

A man was expected to uphold his end of the drinking, as in The Tale of Halldor Snorrason II;

Thorir came to speak to the king, saying 'As you know, I am an old man, and get tired quickly. I do not think I am capable of following the customs of the king's men, such as drinking toasts and such related things. I am now going to look elsewhere, even though being with you is best and most agreeable to me.'

The king answered, 'It is possible for us to find a solution, my friend. Stay here with my followers. You have my permission to drink no more than you wish.'

Bard was a man from Oppland, a good comrade, and not very old. He was an intimate friend of King Harald's. These three men, Bard, Thorir and Halldor, shared a bench, and one evening, just as the king walked by where they were sitting and drinking, Halldor was passing over the horn. It was a great animal horn, and nearly transparent. It was possible to see quite well through it that he had drunk half as much as Thorir, who was a slow drinker.

Then the king spoke: 'It takes a while before you see people in their true colours, Halldor,' he said. 'So you break faith in drinking with old men, and rush off to whores in the late evening instead of following your king.'

Halldor made no answer, but Bard could sense that he disliked the king's comments. Bard went to meet the king early in the morning.

'You are an early riser, Bard,' said the king.

'I have come to reproach you, my lord,' said Bard. 'You spoke badly and unjustly to your friend Halldor yesterday evening, when you accused him of not drinking his share. It was Thorir's horn and he had already given up and would have returned it to the tray if Halldor had not drunk it for him...'.

To this, all I can add is that perhaps these prodigious drinkers preserved themselves with Odin's magical advice, "...where you drink ale, choose the power of earth! For earth is good against drunkenness..." -Havamol 137

finis

Wine in the West IV

continued...

It is in these scraps of record, as well as from archaeology and anthropology, that I search for answers. It's because I don't experience the eastern philosophy as my own that I seek to rediscover my ancestral philosophy.

As Guignebert wrote (roughly), the Western peoples have never really understood the Eastern religions, most notably, Christianity. I believe that's true of Americans in general, not just myself. We shout in victory at competitive events. Rather than experience humility, we take pride in our professional achievements. We strive for excellence in all things and reward the winners. We admire independence, courage and strength. Twist it as you like, Christianity is not the foundation of these American attitudes.

[15th century drinking horn from a Picasaweb album by Reese. The late date on this horn demonstrates just how long the drinking cult survived in Europe, hundred of years into the Christian ages, in fact. As I suggest, to this day.]

Not all my ancestors were of the warrior elite, maybe none of them. But whether they were farmers or bakers, they lived in a society which honored the ideals of that elite, just as we honor, significantly to my point, the soldiers who serve and protect our country. To be a warrior does not mean one enjoys bloodshed. It only requires a sense of duty and honor, the conviction that the strong must protect the weak. The noblest warrior is one who desires peace above all else.

What does this have to do with wine? Well, literature and archaeology agree that the culture of mead or wine was integral to lives of Western pagans, south or north. I don't believe we can understand these people unless we understand the role of their intoxicants, and I believe we gain greater spiritual and intellectual access to their thoughts and convictions when we participate in their customs. That does not mean we revert to a comparatively primitive lifestyle, but we do have the luxury to study the best of the age's values, compare them to our own, good and bad, and apply those which make us better people.

to be continued...

Raud the Strong

Follow two literary selections to honor Raud's Day. The first is Longfellow's version of the events recorded in the Heimskringla. The second is a translation of that record in which the defiant Heathen, Raud the Strong, is martyred for his gods.

X
RAUD THE STRONG

"All the old gods are dead,
All the wild warlocks fled;
But the White Christ lives and reigns,
And throughout my wide domains
His Gospel shall be spread!"
On the Evangelists
Thus swore King Olaf.
But still in dreams of the night
Beheld he the crimson light,
And heard the voice that defied
Him who was crucified,
And challenged him to the fight.
To Sigurd the Bishop
King Olaf confessed it.
And Sigurd the Bishop said,
"The old gods are not dead,
For the great Thor still reigns,
And among the Jarls and Thanes
The old witchcraft still is spread."
Thus to King Olaf
Said Sigurd the Bishop.
"Far north in the Salten Fiord,
By rapine, fire, and sword,
Lives the Viking, Raud the Strong;
All the Godoe Isles belong
To him and his heathen horde."
Thus went on speaking
Sigurd the Bishop.
"A warlock, a wizard is he,
And lord of the wind and the sea;
And whichever way he sails,
He has ever favoring gales,
By his craft in sorcery."
Here the sign of the cross
Made devoutly King Olaf.
"With rites that we both abhor,
He worships Odin and Thor;
So it cannot yet be said,
That all the old gods are dead,
And the warlocks are no more,"
Flushing with anger
Said Sigurd the Bishop.
Then King Olaf cried aloud:
"I will talk with this mighty Raud,
And along the Salten Fiord
Preach the Gospel with my sword,
Or be brought back in my shroud!"
So northward from Drontheim
Sailed King Olaf!

XI
BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD

Loud the angry wind was wailing
As King Olaf's ships came sailing
Northward out of Drontheim haven
To the mouth of Salten Fiord.
Though the flying sea-spray drenches
Fore and aft the rowers' benches,
Not a single heart is craven
Of the champions there on board.
All without the Fiord was quiet,
But within it storm and riot,
Such as on his Viking cruises
Raud the Strong was wont to ride.
And the sea through all its tide-ways
Swept the reeling vessels sideways,
As the leaves are swept through sluices,
When the flood-gates open wide."
'T is the warlock! 't is the demonRaud!"
cried Sigurd to the seamen;
"But the Lord is not affrigted
By the witchcraft of his foes.
"To the ship's bow he ascended,
By his choristers attended,
Round him were the tapers lighted,
And the sacred incense rose.
On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd,
In his robes, as one transfigured,
And the Crucifix he planted
High amid the rain and mist.
Then with holy water sprinkled
All the ship; the mass-bells tinkled;
Loud the monks around him chanted,
Loud he read the Evangelist.
As into the Fiord they darted,
On each side the water parted;
Down a path like silver molten
Steadily rowed King Olaf's ships;
Steadily burned all night the tapers,
And the White Christ through the vapors
Gleamed across the Fiord of Salten,
As through John's Apocalyspe,
---Till at last they reached Raud's dwelling
On the little isle of Gelling;
Not a guard was at the doorway,
Not a glimmer of light was seen.
But at anchor, carved and gilded,
Lay the dragon-ship he builded;
'T was the grandest ship in Norway,
With its crest and scales of green.
Up the stairway, softly creeping,
To the loft where Raud was sleeping,
With their fists they burst asunder
Bolt and bar that held the door.
Drunken with sleep and ale they found him,
Dragged him from his bed and bound him,
While he stared with stupid wonder,
At the look and garb they wore.
Then King Olaf said: "O Sea-King!
Little time have we for speaking,
Choose between the good and evil;
Be baptized, or thou shalt die!
But in scorn the heathen scoffer
Answered: "I disdain thine offer;
Neither fear I God nor Devil;
Thee and thy Gospel I defy!"
Then between his jaws distended,
When his frantic struggles ended,
Through King Olaf's horn an adder,
Touched by fire, they forced to glide.
Sharp his tooth was as an arrow,
As he gnawed through bone and marrow;
But without a groan or shudder,
Raud the Strong blaspheming died.
Then baptized they all that region,
Swarthy Lap and fair Norwegian,
Far as swims the salmon, leaping,
Up the streams of Salten Fiord.
In their temples Thor and Odin
Lay in dust and ashes trodden,
As King Olaf, onward sweeping,
Preached the Gospel with his sword.
Then he took the carved and gilded
Dragon-ship that Raud had builded,
And the tiller single-handed,
Grasping, steered into the main.
Southward sailed the sea-gull's o'er him,
Southward sailed the ship that bore him,
Till at Drontheim haven landed
Olaf and his crew again.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(from the Saga of King Olaf)


Heimskringlaor
The Chronicle of the Kings of Norway
BySnorri Sturluson(c. 1179 - 1241)
Online Medieval and Classical Library Release #15b
Originally written in Old Norse, app. 1225 A.D., by the poet and historian Snorri Sturluson. English translation by Samuel Laing (London, 1844).


87. OF RAUD'S BEING TORTURED.
Bishop Sigurd took all his mass robes and went forward to the bow
of the king's ship; ordered tapers to be lighted, and incense to
be brought out. Then he set the crucifix upon the stem of the
vessel, read the Evangelist and many prayers, besprinkled the
whole ship with holy water, and then ordered the ship-tent to be
stowed away, and to row into the fjord. The king ordered all the
other ships to follow him. Now when all was ready on board the
Crane to row, she went into the fjord without the rowers finding
any wind; and the sea was curled about their keel track like as
in a calm, so quiet and still was the water; yet on each side of
them the waves were lashing up so high that they hid the sight of
the mountains. And so the one ship followed the other in the
smooth sea track; and they proceeded this way the whole day and
night, until they reached Godey. Now when they came to Raud's
house his great ship, the dragon, was afloat close to the land.
King Olaf went up to the house immediately with his people; made
an attack on the loft in which Raud was sleeping, and broke it
open. The men rushed in: Raud was taken and bound, and of the
people with him some were killed and some made prisoners. Then
the king's men went to a lodging in which Raud's house servants
slept, and killed some, bound others, and beat others. Then the
king ordered Raud to be brought before him, and offered him
baptism. "And," says the king, "I will not take thy property
from thee, but rather be thy friend, if thou wilt make thyself
worthy to be so." Raud exclaimed with all his might against the
proposal, saying he would never believe in Christ, and making his
scoff of God. Then the king was wroth, and said Raud should die
the worst of deaths. And the king ordered him to be bound to a
beam of wood, with his face uppermost, and a round pin of wood
set between his teeth to force his mouth open. Then the king
ordered an adder to be stuck into the mouth of him; but the
serpent would not go into his mouth, but shrunk back when Raud
breathed against it. Now the king ordered a hollow branch of an
angelica root to be stuck into Raud's mouth; others say the king
put his horn into his mouth, and forced the serpent to go in by
holding a red-hot iron before the opening. So the serpent crept
into the mouth of Raud and down his throat, and gnawed its way
out of his side; and thus Raud perished. King Olaf took here
much gold and silver, and other property of weapons, and many
sorts of precious effects; and all the men who were with Raud he
either had baptized, or if they refused had them killed or
tortured. Then the king took the dragonship which Raud had
owned, and steered it himself; for it was a much larger and
handsomer vessel than the Crane. In front it had a dragon's
head, and aft a crook, which turned up, and ended with the figure
of the dragon's tail. The carved work on each side of the stem
and stern was gilded. This ship the king called the Serpent.
When the sails were hoisted they represented, as it were, the
dragon's wings; and the ship was the handsomest in all Norway.
The islands on which Raud dwelt were called Gylling and Haering;
but the whole islands together were called Godey Isles, and the
current between the isles and the mainland the Godey Stream.
King Olaf baptized the whole people of the fjord, and then sailed
southwards along the land; and on this voyage happened much and
various things, which are set down in tales and sagas, -- namely,
how witches and evil spirits tormented his men, and sometimes
himself; but we will rather write about what occurred when King
Olaf made Norway Christian, or in the other countries in which he
advanced Christianity. ...

A Wild Hunt Must Read

Is there any more thoughtful group than those reading The Wild Hunt? Read the comments here for Jason's post, "Outgrowing Paganism?"

The Book of Love

Once again, I'm indebted to Pico at Wild Chihuahuas for finding the perfect youtube for the moment.

Queen Sigrith's Day

Yesterday, Sunday, was the 9th, the monthly Day of Honor, the day when a historical, semi-historical or mythical hero is honored as a virtuous, courageous or spiritual inspiration to modern Heathen practitioners. Pagans discover these paragons in literature and archaeological evaluation. The path of Reconstructionism, especially, leads pagans into study, also into experimentation with artifact (i.e. Thor's hammer), symbol (i.e. labyrinths, runes) and custom (i.e. sumbel, blot). Because there is no dogma, the pagan is a perpetual seeker. Ironically for Heathens, they eventually discover that the journey is the destination.

Yesterday was Queen Sigrith's Day. She is honored for her courage in refusing to deny her belief in the gods. She reminds Heathens, too, that the faith is of "kinsmen before", thus a tradition, a "handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, etc., from generation to generation, esp. by word of mouth or by practice." But even more, Queen Sigrith, while insisting on her independence from the foreign god of King Olaf, demonstrated the noble path of tolerance.

She says it all best herself. Therefore, from the Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, trans. Lee M. Hollander...

"Chapter 61. Queen Sigrith Refuses Baptism

Early in spring King Olaf journeyed east to Konungahella for the meeting with Queen Sigrith. And when they met they discussed the matter which had been broached in winter, that they were to marry; and matters went very well. Then King Olaf said that Sigrith should be baptized and accept the true faith. She replied in this wise: “I do not mean to abandon the faith I have had, and my kinsmen before me. Nor shall I object to your belief in the god you prefer.”

Then King Olaf became very angry and said hastily, “Why should I want to marry you dog of a heathen?” and slapped her in the face with the glove he had in his hand. Whereupon he arose, and she too.

Then Sigrith said, “This may well be your death!” With that they parted. The king returned north to Vik, and the queen east to Sweden."

Futhorc

*Futhorc runes in apple wood*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Then I began to quicken and be wise,

and to grow and to prosper;

one word found another word for me,

one deed found another deed for me.

.

The runes you must find and the meaningful letter,

a very great letter,

a very powerful letter,

which the mighty sage stained

and the powerful gods made

and the runemaster of the gods carved out.

.

Odin for the Æsir, and Dain for the elves,

Dvalin for the dwarfs,

Asvid for the giants,

I myself carved some.

.

Do you know how to carve, do you know how to interpret,

do you know how to stain, do you know how to test out,

do you know how to ask, do you know how to sacrifice,

do you know how to dispatch, do you know how to slaughter?

.

Better not to pray, than to sacrifice too much,

one gift always calls for another;

better not dispatched than to slaughter too much.

So Thund carved before the history of nations,

where he rose up, when he came back.

.

.

.

from Sayings of the High One, Poetic Edda, trans. Larrington

Wodhanazson

Below is a post I discovered on the internet, written by a godi, a priest of the Asatru, Troy Wisehart, who was kind enough to give me permission to republish it. I’m happy to share his personal statement, which exemplifies the virtue by which a modern Heathen may live when inspired by the Eddic texts.


"Wodhanaz is that which integrates the many into a conscious whole and describes the entire process. ~ I am a Heathen who follows the ancient path of my ancestors known as Asatru (1) and I have sworn the oath of the gothar (2). Life flows to me and through me, and I choose what remains in me. Because I am a microcosm of the multiverse, I bring from the darkest depths to the highest heights that which is needed for me to be able to receive from the realms of light what is required of the deepest abyss. I take from the dark as well as the light because I am my own master. I follow Odin's path as outlined in the Havamal (3), and Freyja (4) is my protectress. I walk between the worlds in the branches and roots of Yggdrasil (5) and sing the runes. Believing that I am my deeds, I ally myself with the Aesir and Vanir (6), whom I consider to be the forces of harmony and beauty, against that which is of chaos and destruction and each conscious choice of right action strengthens the power of my soul and positively contributes to my hammingja (7) and orlog (8). I am free of hatred and resentment because I recognize those feelings as a form of submission to the focal point of those emotions. I absolutely reject all betrayal, beginning with myself and refuse to take into myself anything whose origin is the bringer of distress, she who is the lover of the trickster and the mother of the children of Jarnvid (9). Having once lost everything, I let go of all that I fear to lose and in so doing recover what is mine. I exist tri-partite in time for I am my ancestors as well as my descendents. My soul resides in my blood and will one day return to that from which it came, bringing with me the sum total of my deeds as a contribution to the folk soul in the next cycle of existence. My destination is the journey, and its purpose is to experience and feel so that I will learn and grow and achieve personal power which is preparation, awareness, intent and the ability to focus through the vessel of the self. In this way I will not be consumed or destroyed. I have come into being, and by the process of coming into being I have established the process of coming into being."


The following notes are my additions, and I don’t mean to attribute the ideas to Mr. Wisehart, although we would, no doubt, have productive discussions using them as starting points.
1. Asatru
2. gothar, collective priesthood of the Asatru community.
3. Havamal is one of the Poetic Eddas, similar in tone to wisdom literature.
4. Odin is a god seeking wisdom. His “path” is one of honor and virtue. Freyja, as Elsa-Brita Titchenell explains in Masks of Odin, “represents the higher, spiritual faculty of intelligence.” It is to Freyja’s hall, Sessrúmnir at Folkvangr, that half of mankind ascend. She is the lover the enlightened sought.
5. Yggdrasil, the World Tree, the Tree of Life.
6. Aesir and Vanir are, roughly, the two tribes of Norse gods. The differences between them and what they represent to the Asatru is beyond the limit of space and purpose here.
7. hammingja is, roughly, individual and familial soul power.
8. orlog, roughly, primal layer of being.
9. Jarnvid, Iron Wood. “She,” “the trickster” and their “children” represent testing forces, obstacles which prevent us from recognizing and then realizing ourselves as gods, but they are also the forge fires through which we are tempered.