A number of days back I mentioned that I was intending to write a post about Yule and what it means and what we Pagans like to do to mark it. This is probably that post. It may be long, it may be boring, and it’s absolutely certainly going to contain gory details about my religion, so if you don’t like that sort of thing, now would be a perfect time to go and look at something more interesting.
Some of you may be aware of the term Yule used in relation to the celebrations around the time of Christmas (a festival I hope I don’t have to explain, if you want to know about it ask x3ja). When I use the term, I’m talking about the midwinter solstice, which is celebrated by many Pagans as one of eight festivals in the year. These festivals are known as Sabbats, and there are two kinds. The four lesser Sabbats fall on the two solstices and the two equinoxes. The four greater Sabbats are spaced between them.
The Pagan year therefore does not end on December the thirty-first. Because modern Pagan practice is drawn from many historical and current cultures, different traditions may well mark the year at different times, but it is not uncommon to mark Samhain (October 31st) as the end of the year, and Yule (the winter solstice) as the start of the next one. This leaves the time between them as a time when there is no year. So what is happening then?
The explanation lies in the story of the wheel of the year, which is the cycle of growth and death and rebirth running through the Sabbats. A legend has built up around this cycle, and explains it very nicely. It is impossible to know where to start, but most explanations start with Yule, so I shall as well — especially given that this is the subject of this entry.
At Yule, the Goddess gives birth to the God Her son, marking the return of light and warmth to the world. She is the Crone at this time of year — old and wise in the ways of the world, bringer of both death and life. As the God begins to grow, His power asserts itself over the world and warmth begins to return. By Imbolc, in late February, the Maiden Goddess has caught his eye, and together they dance across the fields and woodlands and forests, scattering life where they go. Ostara, the spring equinox, marks the start of their courtship, and at Beltane (the start of May) their sexual union brings forth the ultimate flowering of life in the world. The Goddess, now pregnant, becomes the Mother, and the Sun God waxes in power as Litha (the summer solstice) approaches and passes. Mabon is the final fulfillment of the harvest and the Sun God fades to die at Samhain, leaving himself growing in the Goddess’ womb to be born once more at Yule. Biologically it’s mindbending of course, but legends about deities rarely make straightforward sense.
So what do we celebrate at Yule? The return of light and warmth to the world, the knowledge that winter will end — embodied in the rebirth of the God. Our God is the Sun, so it’s easy to see how the story fits in. Naturally enough, at the same time in the Southern Hemisphere, our fellow Witches are celebrating Litha, the midsummer solstice. Paganism is a religion linked to the land and the seasons, and must therefore be adjusted according to circumstance. A certain other religion also celebrates the birth of a deity at this point in the year, just a few days later. I’ll leave to others the endless argument about who did it first, as I really don’t care. I don’t feel that the question is necessary; it keeps people amused trying to answer it, but it’s missing the point. If the celebration is meaningful, does it matter if we copied it from the Christians or if they copied it from us or if we both came up with it by ourselves or if we both copied it from a third party? Some would say yes, but to them I say to go and argue with someone else about it.
As with all Sabbats, the typical celebration will take the form of a ritual, usually conducted by a coven or a working group, or perhaps a more informal gathering of Witches. As with almost all such rituals, it is conducted within the protection of the magic circle. The name is misleading — it’s actually a sphere, lying half above the ground and half below it, which serves two purposes described in most of the casting invocations for it which I have heard.
The first purpose is to form a barrier between the worlds. We live most of the time in our own world, the physical world, but as Witches we work in other worlds, such as the astral plane. The circle raises a portion of the physical world into a place which is between many worlds, allowing us to access them more easily. Magic operates at least partially in other worlds, and these are also the natural homes of the spirits and elements and deities which we work with. In making the circle a barrier, we also protect ourselves from the less pleasant energies which may find us while we are there.
The second purpose of the circle is to contain any energy raised within it. This is an important one for working effective magic, as we frequently need to spend some time raising power for an objective to be accomplished, and it would be no use if the power dissipated immediately. The circle contains it while we raise it, then allows us to shape it to a purpose before sending it to its intended target with the greatest possible effect.
This is now turning into an essay on basic ritual structure, but I’m going to carry on anyway because I’m interested to see how it turns out, and I’m also interested to see what people are going to say to me after they’ve read it. Probably that I’m a complete crackpot, but I suppose I can’t have everything.
The circle is usually laid out on the ground if possible. My usual groups use the quarter candles (more on them later) as primary markers, and sometimes a ring of tealight candles is also used. Others may use a length of rope, chalk dust, or some other natural substance. I have heard of people who cut the circle into the grass in their garden, but although I do work in a circle which is in the garden of two people lucky enough to be able to establish a permenant working area, they have not done this. Although they have marked the quarters, which saves looking for a compass to find out which way is north every time.
I digress. The casting of the circle is a task for a single Witch. Starting in the East, they move deosil (clockwise, the direction of building energy, sometimes the direction of positive energy) around the circle, making an invocation and visualising the circle forming as they pass. The circle is made of blue light, and extends into a sphere above and below the ground. The other members of the group may reinforce with their own visualisation and thus by extension their own power. The invocation I am most familiar with starts ‘I conjure thee, O circle of power, that thou might be a boundary between worlds, to protect those within and contain all energies raised.’ Unfortunately I cannot remember the rest, and I don’t have that particular one written down anywhere. When I have to do it myself, I usually end up writing a new one each time, but in group rituals it has so far always been the responsibility of another.
After the casting of the circle comes the calling of the quarters. We place a candle at each of the four directions — north, south, east and west. Each of these represents one of the four elements of classical mythology, and we invoke the spirits of these elements as extra protection and strength for the circle. This invocation also starts in the East, and each is conducted by a different person except when there are not enough people able to do it available. A Witch working alone obviously has to do them all.
The invocation in the East is to the element Air. Many people, myself included, like to call the quarters as an invocation to both the Guardians of the Watchtowers and the element in question. A (short) invocation for East might run ‘Hail, ye Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East, ye Spirits of Air, I do summon, stir and call thee up to witness our ritual here today and guard this magic circle. Hail, and welcome!’
Longer quarter calls usually dwell on the qualities of the element in question, and some are almost excruciatingly (to my mind) polite about the whole affair. After East, we proceed clockwise again to South (Fire), West (Water) and North (Earth). This done, the High Priest and High Priestess bless the water and salt upon the altar, then use some of the salt to consecrate the water. In some rituals, the circle is blessed with the water, salt, incense and candle from the altar to represent the four elements, but I have not yet been present at one where this is done; it has never felt necessary.
The High Priest and the High Priestess then invoke the God and the Goddess (Goddess first in most cases) into each other and themselves, asking that they witness the ritual, protect those involved and perhaps to lend their power to any magic which will be performed. After this, the main purpose of the ritual will proceed, be it celebration or magical working, a handfasting or initiation, or something else entirely.
Sabbats are usually times for stories to be told. At Samhain, we listened to the story of the Sabbat, and undertook a spiritual journey through the elemental realms to the realm of the dead, where we encountered the Goddess as Crone. This Yule, we contemplated the return of light and warmth to the world, and gathered the feeling of new hope in the coming of the spring to tie wishes to a wishing tree, empowered with the spirit of the Sabbat.
Wine and cakes are blessed and sipped or nibbled as appropriate around the circle, each member in turn passing them to the next with the invocation ‘may you never thirst’ and ‘may you never hunger’. After this at Yule we were getting quite cold (although I in my new robes wasn’t too bad, could’ve done with a cloak and I would’ve been fine) so we engaged in some chanting and stomping around the circle, which I’m sure made passersby think we were quite mad, then made a libation (offering of the wine and cakes remaining), then dismissed the quarters and took down the magic circle. Then the ritual was over, so we decamped to the pub to eat and refresh ourselves.
That last bit caught your interest, didn’t it? Pagans and pubs are as inseperable as my bedroom floor and clutter.
That’s all on the subject for now.
