Lughnasadh
By Allie
With August comes the festival of Lugh, or Lughnasadh. This is the First Harvest and actually marks the end of summer itself. Autumn has started. The cycle turns and the plants begin to set their seed and in days past, people would be harvesting now, replanting and hoping for a second harvest to tide them through winter. First fruits and seeds are gather. The young animals are reaching towards maturity.
In the Irish tradition that my group follows, Lughnasadh is about two things. Lugh of the Long Hand has defeated Balor. Through this battle he has taken his rightful place, and has also won the art of agriculture for us, his people. There is great celebrating. But amongst the joy there is sorrow - the cycle of life that we do well to remember. Taillte, Lugh's foster-mother - died, and so Lugh holds the Tailltean Games in her honor.
When we celebrate Lughnasadh, like Lugh, we hold athletic contests amidst the feasting. We remember our vigor and our youth through these Games while we also mourn the approach of death. We eat to live - and that which we devour has died. The true joy of life is to be found in acknowledging and celebrating the balance of life and death. We live on the cusp.
This year Lughnasadh falls on the eve of August 6th, that being the mid-way point between the Summer Solstice of June 21st and the Autumnal Equinox of September 22nd. Many people simply use the 1st of August for convenience, but I prefer the actual day myself. As with any Celtic festival, the celebrations begin at dusk and continue for 24 hours. I and my partner celebrate our handfasting on this day each year - an old custom known as the Tailltean marriage. We have never legally signed the papers, but each year at the start of Lughnasadh we renew our vows before witnesses. If we decide to end it, we'll do so at Lughnasadh before our High Priestess and Priest as per custom.
Lughnasadh is, as I said, a Harvest Festival celebrating the advent of agriculture - specifically ploughing, sowing, and reaping. So it revolves around grains. There are many customs about the threshing of the grain and the making of breads. Any ritual should thus include these elements - grains, breads, and harvesting/threshing tools or depictions thereof. Because it is an agricultural event, it's important to recall that the early kings were "harvest" kings. Either literally or figuratively they died with the harvest to be reborn in the spring. Think of the Green Man, John Barleycorn, and Tammuz. Making a corn dolly king or a bread man to sacrifice is always a good idea.
It's hard these days for many of us to actually harvest foods for our own harvest festivals. If you can, try and grow even some simple herbs that you can cut down and cook into your harvest meal. Or consider a "harvest feast" shopping expedition. Invoke the gods, prepare yourself, and go shopping only for foods for your meal. Take time to pick and choose. Experience the foods with all your senses as you sort through. Find seasonally appropriate foods. Think about making your own bread and selecting a small portion of grains to add that you hand-grind yourself.
There are always ways to wind back time to a simpler, more connected lifestyle and bring that forward into the now. Traditional foods you might look at include grains, blueberries, breads, oatcakes, bannock, fresh butter, eggs, curds, and first autumn fruits.
Back to the festival. We celebrate as follows: The setting of the sun is marked by the lighting of a fire and our group settles down for a camp out. We toast food, talk and tell stories, sing, and compete to see who can tell the biggest (or worst) tales and whose riddles stump everyone. My group, and a number of others, do not engage in the dances common to many Celtic festivals. This would be inappropriate at a funeral. We do drum and chat though. Some stay awake all night. Others drop off. With dawn comes the prayers and invocations to Lugh.
Before we eat, we reap a small stand of wheat grown specifically for this and sown earlier in the year to celebrate Spring. We thresh and grind the wheat into flour and make bannocks to cook in the cook-fire on large flat rocks. Our bannocks are shaped into human form, given male attributes and crowns. The stalks from the harvest are left to soak awhile in some water.
While the bannocks are cooking we begin the Games - foot-races, jumping competitions, javelin toss, and wrestling. Those who need to eat usually act as spectators, cheering and jeering equally. Sometimes it gets downright ludicrous.
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There is always a water fight as we 'sort of' reenact the Battle of Magh Tuireadh. Defeating the Fir Bolg is a moment of joy and triumph, yet also bittersweet. These are the foster family of Lugh. His mother died fulfilling the orders of the victorious Tuatha de Danaan following the battle. And then, following the battle, we celebrate Lugh, the hero. Lugh, the Light Bearer. We have fires and candles that we light with invocations to him. The grain stalks left to soak are brought forth and the High Prioestess and Priest weave two corn dollies - a male and a female. These are crowned with flowers and set upon the altar to witness the feast. Small offerings of the food are placed before them.
We begin our feast with the bannocks that are broken, salted, and passed around in the age old tradition. At this point everyone is protected by the laws of hospitality having shared bread. The feast usually lasts hours, and is a lot of fun.
Once the meal is over, the Games resume. A longstanding habit in our group is the crafting of hobby horses which we bring to the Lughnasadh Festival for the horse racing. Everyone participates - no matter how sluggish after the meal. There is always a lot of water left standing from the earlier battle. The hobby horses are raced about the field, through the puddles, in various trials of speed and agility. The children tend to defeat everyone by getting underfoot. Still, it is a lot of fun.
The games continue throughout the day, as do storytelling, singing, and simple conversation. With the coming of the night we offer up our last prayers to Lugh, asking his protection in the coming months as winter draws near.
The corn dollies are taken to the home of the High Priestess. Over the next 6 months they will travel about the group, wintering with us all and speading their protection over the "family". Come the Feast of Bride the dollies will be plowed into Danu's breast to return to her.
Chasing the Red Head
My hand in Her hand
She leads me to the light
Along the calendar lines
Across the star borne night
God following the Goddess
Throughout the depths of time
Skyclad but oh so modest
Her direction true and fine
Wave tops they reach up for her
Longing for Her touch
Making tides and cloud and rain
That Her children need so much
The God is born each morning
Just as He dies each night
Goddess hair is long and red
Her skin soft milky white
The Goddess is all to everyone
The God remains the same
Strong and hot and energized
Alone He's just a name
But combined with Goddess power
Their magical union gives us life
Without Their magic mixture
An athame is just another knife
So I will chase the Red Head
Until the day I die
And spiral up again reborn
And give Her one more try
~ Silver Shaman |
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