Godfolk Training The role of the Godwo/man in the Troth is to lead rites, teach, and offer basic spiritual counseling at the local level: in short, to fulfill the same functions fulfilled by religious figures in small communities of every faith. The purpose of this programme is to give you a basic framework within which you may work on acquiring these skills and against which you can measure your progress. Your chief duties, however, will be to your own Kindred: while the Godmathelers can account you certified in lore, ritual performance, and at least theoretical counseling, it is the folk with whom you work who will deem you fit or unfit to be a clergyperson, and who will ordain you or refuse to do so accordingly. While it is not required for you to write up your findings and work in the specific lessons, doing so is both excellent discipline for you and will make it much easier for you to be evaluated for Troth certification when the time has come. You may send or email such descriptions to either your supervisory Elder or the Warder of the Lore. If you have any questions about what you are doing or would like further guidance on a specific subject, you are encouraged to write to your supervisory Elder or the Warder. These lessons are set out in terms of individual use, but you will find it both enlightening and useful for all if you can work through them with your Kindred; the process of doing so will help teach you how to teach, and will also allow you the sort of access to the thoughts, beliefs, knowledge, and occasional misconceptions of others which is vital if you are to actually do your job as a Godwo/man in teaching our religion and helping others both in knowing the lore and understanding the Germanic ways of thought on which the lore and beliefs of our forebears are based. Arranging weekly or bi-weekly study groups is generally a good way to go about such work; the lessons should be put out beforehand so that those who may chance to miss a few can do the work on their own. As a Godwo/man in training, it will no doubt be expected that you can lead such a group: this means, basically, that you must work harder and spend more time considering the subject than anyone else. Before you begin, please read through the whole syllabus and note where lessons in the three different sections complement each other. These sections are meant to be dealt with simultaneously, rather than one at a time, as in practice we cannot separate lore, ritual, and folk-work. You will note that many of the books recommended here, especially those dealing with folk-work, are written in the Christian idiom. Although you may find this disconcerting and even possibly annoying at times, the exercise of sorting out the true and useful information from the specifically Christian point of view is an excellent one for an aspiring clergyperson, especially given the length of time Christianity has been operating as a functional religion versus the ages of the Germanic reconstruction, or even neo-Paganism as a whole. Remember, also, that the method of teaching by giving examples of persons who succeeded or failed in a particular respect, or persons who embody certain characteristics, is a universally valid one: for every example of human behaviour Christians can quote from the Bible, there is a corresponding example recorded in Germanic culture.
Part I: Lore Without a sound grounding in the lore of our forebears, you can hardly hope to guide others in the ways of the Elder Troth. Therefore, this is where you should begin. The first books you will need to start out are the Prose Edda, the Poetic Edda, and at least one reliable guide to the practice of the religion today. Our Troth, the official handbook of the Troth, is your chief text for this purpose, as it includes vastly more material than any books currently put out by larger publishers, as well as offering a wide range of perspectives on the religion and its practice. The second-best choices are Kveldulf Gundarsson's Teutonic Religion and Edred Thorsson's A Book of Troth (the latter is, however, seriously outdated in its description of Troth organization, and is considerably less complete than the former in regards to its discussion of the lore). These two may be used to complement Our Troth, as relatively little of the material from them is repeated in Our Troth. Do not, for any reason, use Ed Fitch's Rites of Odin or D.J. Conway's Norse Magic.Gods and Myths of Northern Europe and/or E.O.G. Turville-Petre's Myth and Religion of the North may also be used, though need not be if you are not already familiar with the basic tales. H.R. Ellis-Davidson's You may well already have a good general knowledge of the myths and general practices, as many folk do by the time they apply for clergy training. Therefore, each step is divided into two parts: one, a basic and systematic introduction to the religious lore, and two, the contemplation of how to teach the lore and/or explain it to outsiders. In this programme, as is usual in Troth practice, the generic Germanic god-names (Wodan, Frija, Thonar, Frowe and Fro Ing, rather than Óðinn, Frigg, Þórr, Freyja and Freyr) will be used for most purposes, but where Old Norse sources are cited directly, the Norse names may be used. You will mark that, together with the actual reading required, you are also encouraged to do meditative work. This is because religious lore is relatively useless for a Godwo/man without some form of personal visioning to tie it to. If you do not wish to use the visions given in this programme, then seek out some other form by which you can to some degree experience what you have learned about in theory. The Creation and Destruction of the Worlds Read the description of the creation and destruction of the worlds in the Prose Edda; then read Völuspá and Vafþrúðnismál in the Poetic Edda; then read the relevant chapter(s) in your secondary source(s): ch. XXV in Our Troth and ch. 2 in Teutonic Religion. Go outside where you can lie on the earth and look up at the sky. Breathe slowly and regularly, relaxing your body. When you are in a relaxed state, begin to see the bowl of the sky as Ymir's skull, the trees about you as his hairs, the rocks as his bones, and so forth; feel the Swart-Alfs beneath you, moiling like maggots within his corpse. When you can experience this clearly, play in your mind all that you know of his wyrd before this - his birth from the foggy rivers of venomous water, his growth at Auðumbla's teat, his sleep and the trolls that came from his living body, his death at the hands of Wodan and his brothers, and the shaping that brought him to this moment. Now look forward: see Ymir's skull dark and snowy with endless winter, the grass beneath you dead under years of snow, and the snow's whiteness churned dark with patches of blood and mud. Play out the Ragnark in your mind, and the new world rising afterwards. When you have thought on this for a while, if possible, find someone who does not already know the tale and tell it to them - see if you can convey it in a form that makes sense. After doing the above exercise, sit down with your texts again. List each of the elements in the creation and destruction of the world as described by Snorri, then by each of the Eddic poems. Note well where they vary or directly contradict each other; also observe Snorri's familiarity with the two poems, which probably pre-date him by two to three hundred years (the generally accepted date for Völuspá is ca. 1000 C.E.). This is a good point at which to clarify your opinion on various aspects of Eddic reliability. For instance: neither of the poems mention any element of fire in the creation of the world; Snorri's account of Víðarr's revenge is drastically different from that of Völuspá; and at least one verse of the poem is almost a direct quote from the Biblical myth of the Apocalypse. Can the Eddas be taken literally? To what degree can they (especially the Prose Edda, written by a Christian some two hundred years after the conversion of Iceland) be considered inspired works? Is it possible that even foreign-influenced interpolations (as in Völuspá) or conscious artistic arrangements and inventions (as in the Prose Edda) could nevertheless convey important spiritual truths? And if Snorri did make up the presence of fire, as well as ice, in the creation of the world, as is not improbable, how can you deal with and explain to others that one of the most popular images of Norse myth as it is known today may well have little or no relationship to what our forebears believed? Even if you don't think Snorri made this up, give this question good thought: it will come up again when, for instance, you are discussing the afterlife.
Our God/esses: Who and What Are They? Read the Prose Edda description of Ásgarðr. Then read Grímnismál and Lokasenna in the Poetic Edda. Then read the relevant chapters in your secondary source (ch. VIII in Our Troth, ch. 3 in Teutonic Religion). Then choose the three deities you think you know best, and read the chapter or section on each of them in your secondary source. Consider: How might that deity have been first recognised in the earliest days of our folk? (note: the name is likely to give you a clue: for instance, Thonar, "Thunderer", was probably not a lunar deity) How can you recognise his or her workings in the natural world? The human/social world? The worlds of the gods? How, when asked by an outsider, would you compare the nature of our god/esses to that of the Christian god? If you are familiar with Wicca or other forms of neo-Paganism, consider your answer to this as well.
Do your best to find a setting in which you can experience the might of at least one of the deities you have chosen expressed through the natural world. Do your best to see the shape of the deity and feel his/her presence as our Northern forebears did. Now is the time to clarify your own position on what, precisely, the nature of our god/esses is: are they, for instance, real beings independent of humankind, beings shaped in whole or in part by our beliefs and cultural structures, archetypal images, or something else? The Troth does not impose any single dogma - you are free to choose your own specific form of belief in this matter - but if you are going to be working with the god/esses and explaining them to other folk, you need to have a strong sense of who and what they actually are as far as you are concerned. Consider Lokasenna and the role of humour in traditional religions - if this poem is taken as Heathen in origin, what important things does it tell us about the nature of our god/esses? Is it possible to blaspheme in a traditional setting? Are the god/esses responsible for living up to the same general rules of conduct and honour as human beings? What bearing does or should their conduct have on our lives? Consider the references in the various poems you have read so far and the Prose Edda (together with anything else that may spring to mind) regarding the reaction of the god/esses to the deaths of other deities and/or favoured humans. What does this tell you about their nature and character? How might their responses be useful in grief counseling? Finally, a very important issue in an historically based religion such as ours is the question of the development of the god/esses. Several of those we know from the Norse sources were probably not named until the Viking Age, and some may never have been worshipped; others, such as Tiw, may have held a more important position in earlier days which was largely lost by the beginning of the Viking Age, if not before. Social factors may likewise have influenced god-lore: for instance, one theory of the origins of the Ases and Wans (accepted by some, if not all, among both academic researchers and Heathens) holds that the Wans were pre-Indo-European deities and that the battle between them preserves memories of the battle between Indo-European invaders and native Scandinavians. The Frowe (Freyja) was not known at all outside Scandinavia, as far as we know; the same is true for several other god/esses. What perspective do you apply to the question of whether the god/esses do indeed grow and/or change their natures and positions, and how we should respond in cases where we know such changes have taken place?
Wyrd Look up the names Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld in the indices of the Prose and Poetic Eddas. Read every reference to them. Also, read the description of the death of Baldr and what follows after in the Prose Edda; read Baldrs draumar and re-read Völuspá, Read the materials on Balder and re-read the chapters on the shaping and end of the world in your secondary source(s); if you have access to a copy of Teutonic Magic, read the chapters on Wyrd and on the runes Nauthiz and Perthro in that work. Sit with your eyes closed, envisioning the Well beneath the World-Tree with the three Norns about it and two swans floating upon it. See the water as welling up through layer upon layer of stone, each layer's pattern shaped by all the ones below it, and new layers being endlessly laid down as the water flows up through the Tree's roots to its crown, dripping back into the Well as shining dew. Think of how this might shapes the wyrd of every living thing - how death is already laid down at birth, for humans and god/esses alike - but also how our choices and deeds can help to shape that which comes after us. Consider Wodan's actions regarding Balder and his death: seeking the foretellings of the völva, siring the son who can avenge Balder, whispering the last and greatest of his secrets in Balder's ear on the funeral pyre, and, finally, leaving his seat to Balder reborn; also consider the possibility that he may have been behind the whole process of Balder's death and rebirth. Then think on the saying, "No man escapes his wyrd". Consider: who are the Norns and why do they have rule even over the god/esses? Remember that Wyrd is the only one known to be Common Germanic, with Verðandi and Skuld probably being later Norse developments. Compare the concept of Wyrd to that of karma, noting in particular the distinction of moral judgements and lack thereof. Also compare it to the Presbyterian doctrine of predestination. Consider how you would explain Wyrd to: - An enquirer who is totally clueless about things Germanic.
- A woman who has just miscarried a badly wanted child.
- Someone who has committed a serious crime for which s/he was never punished.
- Someone whose life is dogged by inexplicable and bizarre happenings, good, bad, or both.
Getting to Know the God/esses Although you may well have a chosen deity with whom you do most of your private work, as a Godwo/man of the Troth, you are expected to know at least the basic lore of all the deities and to be able to work with all or most of them at need. Your need in this regards is twofold: you must have a reasonable personal understanding, and you must be able to teach godlore to other folk. Therefore: -
Write down the names of all the god/esses in the order in which you feel that you know them best. In the order you have written, look each name up in the indices of the Prose and Poetic Eddas, and read every reference thereto. This may be done at the rate of one a day, although the better-known deities may take longer. Read the relevant chapter or section in your secondary source(s). These references should direct you to, and will in most cases detail, the major tales of the deity in sources other than the Eddas, if there are any surviving. While you may not have access to all of said sources, it will be to your advantage to look up as many as you can. When studying Wodan, you should also read chapter 18 in Our Troth, which concerns the walkurjas (valkyries). Do not rely on the relevant section in Teutonic Religion, because it is based on assumptions which further studies in the Norse sources have shown to be incorrect, as is detailed in Our Troth. Do a calling to the god/ess as described in IV under Ritual Work.
Much of our lore has been lost, and was lost by Snorri's time: for instance, in the prologue to the Prose Edda, Snorri tells us that Sif's origins and kindred are unknown, which is true enough; and we don't even know where the tribe of the Wans came from. Therefore, for each deity, you should also seek out and consider something that is unknown about him or her and come up with at least two theories of explanation. If you are good at trance-work or other forms of direct communication with the god/esses, you may ask directly; otherwise and/or in addition to such work, you may pray for inspiration regarding the matter, or use whatever other form of enquiring of deities you are most comfortable with. Beware of taking such inspired answers as absolute, unshakeable, literal truth - the god/esses are often inclined to use the metaphors or images that will most readily penetrate the human mind with which they are dealing - but write them down and keep a good eye out for primary or secondary material which may either confirm or debunk whatever has come into your mind. Do avoid inflicting such explanations on others as anything more than possibilities or, at most, personal feelings and inspirations on the subject until you have found significant external confirmation for them! Most folk have a limited tolerance for revealed religion, and promoting an excess of your own personal revelation too aggressively is a good way to get blown off as a flake, no matter how valid said revelation is.
Getting to Know the Wights The longest-lived part of the religion of our forebears - which has never died in Iceland and still survives as a shadowy folk memory in the more rural parts of the Germanic world - is the worship of the wights: alfs and idises, dwarves, land-wights, and house-ghosts of sundry sorts. Our chief sources for this worship come from folklore collected in the nineteenth century, although there are also some helpful references in the sagas. As a Godwo/man, you will need to be able to explain to folk who and what these wights are (with a good grasp of the theories regarding, for instance, the differences between the Dark, Swart, and Light Alfs). Since they do not figure largely in the myths, you are likely to find that the burden of teaching a Kindred about them, finding the land-wights in your area, and guiding folk to work with their own house-ghosts will rest largely on your own shoulders, which requires a good understanding of their importance. Therefore: Read chapters 20 and 22-24 in Our Troth, chapter 6 (except for the section on walkyriges) in Teutonic Religion). If you have access to it through a library or personal collection, look up elves, dwarves, land-wights, trolls, and giants in the index of Jacob Grimm's Teutonic Mythology and read all references to them. Remember that there are actually two indices: one in vol. 3 and one in vol. 4. Other books which you may find useful, though which are not required, are Jacqueline Simpson's translations/collections of folklore material (Scandinavian Folktales; Icelandic Folktales and Legends). Meditate on the wyrd of the conversion, when the great hofs were replaced by Christian churches, the statues of the god/esses thrown away or destroyed...but when folk still, in spite of the Christian laws, quietly set out a bowl of porridge on the hearth, went to cast loaves of bread into certain streams, and left food on the table for their dead forebears during the Yule-nights. Consider that even when armed force could keep folk from going in public to call on the god/esses, no force could break the kinship of the living with the dead, or of those who lived on and worked the land with the land that gave them life - and still gives it to us. Think on the importance of this quiet thread, that spun on unbroken through all the changes in troth and society, and how the worship of alfs, idises, house-ghosts, and landwights truly grounds us and confirms us as Heathens. Perform the ritual work with alfs, idises, house-ghosts, and land-wights as described in the corresponding lesson under Ritual Work. Continue to do so on a regular basis. B. Prepare your own set of lectures and exercises in order to communicate this understanding to your Kindred. Establish a good and easily transmitted explanation of the relationships and differences between "high Heathenry" (the organized cult of deities known and worshipped in relatively similar ways over wide periods of time and space) and "low Heathenry" (the worship of local and ancestral wights). Consider ways in which your Kindred can strike a reasonable and traditional balance between these two aspects of Heathen practice.
The Soul and the Afterlife Read chs. XXVI and XLV in Our Troth and/or ch. 8 in Teutonic Religion. Then re-read Grímnismál, Vafþrúðnismál, and Baldrs draumar. Read Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar and Helgakviða Hundingsbana I and II (Poetic Edda), and the section in the Prose Edda in which Snorri describes Hel and Valhöll. You may also feel inspired to seek out some of the saga references given in the secondary sources and read them for yourself. Write down a list of all the different fates of the soul that are actually cited in the Poetic Edda and the sagas, then read Snorri's description of Hel and Valhöll again. Return to I: The Creation and Destruction of the World and do part B, subsituting the varying forms of the afterlife for the discrepancies in the creation tales. Sit down in a dark and cool place with your eyes closed. See a Stone Age burial mound - a chamber built out of slabs of rock with earth heaped over it and the grass going above it - in which a forebear of yours lies, adorned with strings of amber and fine furs, with weapons and tools chipped keen from flint, and heaped about with clay jugs of beer and wild apples, joints of roast meat and pots full of nuts and grain. Now see the stone walls of the chamber within the mound rising higher, until it no longer seems like a little room, but a well-built house, with a table and benches within, at which a whole family of folk laugh and feast. Some are still wearing furs and skins, some have woven tunics and adornments of bronze, bronze swords and neck-rings of twisted gold. The house stretches higher and longer yet, filling with folk; the swords glint iron, the woven fabrics become brighter and the metalwork finer. Now you can see a great and shadowy shape sitting in the high-seat between the carven pillars at the end of the hall. A raven sits on this drighten's wrist instead of a hawk, and the hounds eating the scraps from his table are grim gray wolves; a single eye gleams from the darkness beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Looking out the door to the green lands beyond, you can see a high-timbered hall where goats graze before an unharnessed wain, another where two huge golden cats laze in the sunshine, a third where women sit outside the door, spinning and singing, and a great many more, bearing signs of all the goddesses. The land is bounded by a rushing gray river, over which a shimmering bridge of rainbow fire arches; you can see folk riding across it to these lands, but also riding back from them. See yourself stepping out the door and looking back. Now, the hall looks like a mountain with a gap in it, through which you can still see the fires and hear the sounds of feasting; and though you can see it, you stand firmly on the green earth of the Middle-Garth. Open your eyes and breathe deeply; sit for a little while and think about the roads that lead between death and life. If you can find it, read The Road to Hel. Thereupon, consider: How do you explain the complexities of the Germanic afterlife to someone who only knows it as described by Snorri (those who die fighting go to Valhöll; everyone else goes to Hel)? How do you explain the various forms of rebirth, ancestral souls, and so forth to someone only familiar with the basic "New Age" concept? Consider the chief consistent element in Germanic afterlife beliefs, which is that one is united with one's kin who have gone before and those who are yet to come. Now think about explaining this in light of the fact that most people's forebears, including those whose deaths they are likely to experience in this lifetimes (parents, grandparents, and other older kinsfolk), are Christian. What difference does this make in terms of rebirth, meeting in the halls of the gods or family halls, and/or the sometime presence of the dead as guardian alfs and idises?
Folk and Troth Read Hávamál and Hárbarðsljóð in the Poetic Edda. Read ch. XXVII in Our Troth and/or chs. 7 and 9 in Teutonic Religion. Consider your interactions with others. What have you promised to do and done; what have you promised to do and not done? What boasts have you fulfilled, and what have you failed in? Write down the nine Atheling-Thews (Boldness, Truth, Are or Honour, Troth, Self-Rule, Guest-Friendliness, Busyship, Free-Standing, and Steadfastness) from memory, and find positive and negative examples of each, either from personal experience or from other sources (political figures, history, fiction). Choose one major work of Teutonic literature - a saga, an epic poem, or an Eddic poem - and go through it, observing both positive and negative examples of the Atheling-Thews and the other chief thews discussed in Our Troth (Evenhed or Fairness, Strength, Wisdom, Open-Handedness, Kinship). Then do the same with a work of fiction set in modern times. Read Beowulf and Saga of the Volsungs. Consider the difference between the ethics of the heroes in each. It has been suggested (Thomas Hill, 'The Confession of Beowulf and the Structure of Volsunga Saga', in The Vikings,Hárbarðsljóð. ed. by R. T. Farrell, London: Phillimore, 1982, pp. 165-79) that in his final death-boast, 'Beowulf is, in effect, defining himself as an anti-Volsung, as a hero and king who has avoided the heroic faults which are so large a part of the story of the Volsungs...the contrast between this mode of Germanic heroism and that exemplified in the Volsung legend is both so sharp and so specific that I believe the poet is deliberately contrasting his hero with those whose deeds are celebrated in the Volsung cycle' (pp. 172-74). Evaluate this and consider the relationship between the deeds of the heroes and the character of the Vösungs' patron god Óðinn; Beowulf's patron, if one existed, has been lost, but the "Bear's Son" motif which is exemplified in his poem is sometimes connected with Thonar, and his "confession" and ability to fight without a sword are also characteristic of, for instance, Fro Ing and Wanic holy kingship. Compare the distinctions between Óðinn and Þórr in Then read Grettir's Saga. The stories of Beowulf and Grettir almost certainly share a single original (the above-mentioned "Bear's Son" motif), but one is a well-loved social figure, the other is an outlaw who cannot integrate successfully with society. Consider the reasons for this difference, and the question of how much of Grettir's ill luck is of his own making.
Holy Feasts The course of your training may be expected to take at least a year, during which you will perform. Ihe feasts of the Teutonic year one by one (chs. XLVI-LIV in Our Troth, pp. 266-327 in Teutonic Religion). You ought to read about each at least three weeks before it is time for you to perform the rite, and have a meeting with your Kindred to discuss it one to two weeks before the actual ritual. The chief things you must have in mind regarding each ritual are: Its place and function in the agricultural/natural year: that is to say, how our forebears experienced it as necessary to maintaining their physical lives. Its place and function in the social sphere: that is to say, what changes it meant in human activity and the importance of having a ritual to mark the shift between seasonal activities. Its place and function in the psychological sphere: that is to say, how it affects human awareness of both our own doings and the worlds around us. Particularly to be considered is how the practical elements of the agricultural year (sowing, harvest, rest) can and should be reinterpreted in a society where most folk do not work directly on the land. Its place and function in the spiritual sphere: how the changing of the seasons is affected by and affects the god/esses, how the flowing of energy and various forms of spiritual manifestation are altered, what types of devotion (and, if you are versed in it, magic) are appropriate to do both at the feasts and in the spaces of time they mark off.
Consider how each of these appears in the rites presented, embodied by the traditional images of the agricultural year and occasionally tribal warfare. Then think about how you can express them in your own terms, perhaps changing the ritual to incorporate your local situation and/or activities. Finally, go through the Eddas and consider which poems or myths might be most appropriate for reading exerpts from or performing as a ritual drama at each festival. Note: having one person read a whole Eddic poem in the middle of a ritual, especially if that person has difficulty pronouncing Old Norse, will not enlighten most listeners, but bore them nigh unto death. It only works if the whole group is well-versed in Germanic spiritual lore and the reader is a very good reader. However, elements from the myths may easily be incorporated, or the chief event referred to, in rituals. It is especially important that you practice and encourage the practice of the traditional crafts and other activities associated with each festival: weaving Yule wreaths, cooking and trying to eat traditional disgusting Icelandic foods for the Feast of Thonar, painting eggs for Ostara, kindling need-fire and laying green branches under the window of your beloved on Waluburg's Eve, making corn dollies for the harvest festivals, and so forth. By doing so, you may experience and understand the lore of the festival on the deepest levels. History of the Northern Religion Read chs. I-VII in Our Troth; refer to Appendix IV in Teutonic Religion. Read Saga of Hakon the Good, Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, and Saga of St. Olaf in Heimskringla. Remember that the latter three were written by an Icelander of antiquarian sentiments, who preserved his country's memory of animosity towards the Norwegian kings, perhaps sharpened by continued Norwegian meddling in Icelandic politics. The sections of skaldic verse quoted, however, are often accepted as authentically stemming from the time and person to whom they are attributed, and may therefore be taken without too much difficulty as indicative of the feelings and beliefs of the period, at least as expressed by court skalds. Consider the chief elements of continuity between the various ages; you should be able to trace at least three elements of the religion which have remained consistent from the Stone Age through the Viking Age, if not the modern period. Think about ways of working these elements into your own ritual and practice of the religion, or recognising and making others aware of their age and importance if they are already there. Read Two Lives of Charlemagne and Bede's History of the English Church and People. Consider our proper relationship to Christianity. One of the most controversial topics within Germanic religion today is the question of what degree of animosity it is right, necessary or acceptable to harbour towards Christianity, and how and when, if ever, it is appropriate to express such animosity. As a Godwoman, you will be expected to hold a clear position on this and be able to defend it appropriately and in a manner which does not cause undue alienation of, or offense to, outsiders. You must, therefore, look at the matter with a clear perspective and prepare yourself to articulate certain things in a sensible and socially acceptable way: what, for instance, was lost by the conversion; what might have been gained; how the methods of conversion practiced in the North affected the quality of religious and social life thereafter (it may be especially instructive to compare Norway and Iceland, and Germany and England); and how Christianity has affected the thoughts, activities, and history of the Germanic peoples in the last centuries - specifically, what elements of modern society can be traced directly to Christian influence, and how a return to the values and beliefs of the North might change these matters. Remember that Christianity is not only to be defined by Baptist fundamentalists, but also includes, for instance, scholastic Jesuit theology and liberal American Presbyterianism and Methodism; however, all these many forms have certain beliefs in common, which are basically, in the minds of the vast majority of folk who practice the Northern religion incompatible with our own (and would certainly also be thus incompatible in the minds of the vast majority of Christians if they were aware of our existence). Remember, also, that direct attacks on the beliefs of others, while they may sometimes be useful for shocking the naïve into thought, are generally far more likely to cause the sort of offense that brands one as intrinsically hostile and a little crazy, and prevents whatever one has to say from being heard. Christian-bashing is largely not useful, but the ability to compare and contrast our religions, and discuss their histories as well as their ideals and beliefs, is extremely useful.
Basic Runelore While, as a Godwo/man, you are not expected to be a great runic magician, you are expected to be able to transcribe inscriptions into the Elder Futhark, pick runes for simple purposes, and carve and colour basic inscriptions (as, for example, on your ritual tools). If this is all you feel you need, proceed with this lesson. If you want more, buy one or more of the recommended books and proceed according to their study courses, which are designed for training runic magicians. The most helpful books available are Edred Thorsson's FUTHARK, Kveldulf Gundarsson's Teutonic Magic, and Freya Aswynn's Leaves of Yggdrasil. Any of these three will do for the purpose at hand. Particularly if you have no plans to go farther with runic studies, FUTHARK may be the most immediately useful as a basic handbook, since it offers a neat, simple list of keywords and uses for each rune, as well as a table of correspondences at the back. The chief advantage of Teutonic Magic is its completeness (including a lot of general Teutonic lore and discussion of the principles of magic) and more extensive discussion of the nature and background of each rune. Leaves of Yggdrasil strikes a middle ground, and is also notable in that it presents a female view of the runes and a more folk-rooted viewpoint, being written by a native Dutchwoman. Taking two to three runes a day, read through the section describing the rune. Draw it in red on a flashcard; on the other side, write its name, its sound-value, the meaning of the name, a few keywords, and the names of any god/esses or wights associated with it. For example: "Fehu. F. 'Gold' or 'moveable wealth'. Money, fruitfulness, sexual energy, strife, fire. Freyja." Then, without looking at any books, take a piece of paper, draw the runes you have done thus far in order, and write their names under them (so that, for instance, the first day you draw and write "Fehu, Uruz"; the second, you draw and write, "Fehu, Uruz, Thurisaz, Ansuz"; the third, "Fehu, Uruz, Thurisaz, Ansuz, Raidho, Kenaz", and so forth) until you have reached the end of the futhark and know all the runes and sound-values. Take a piece of flat wood and carve the runes on it in order, chanting the name of each as you carve and seeing a line of red light run down the knife from your hand to fill the rune as you carve it. Keep in mind the basics of carving: - The smaller the knife, the easier it is to control.
- The sharper the knife, the easier it is to control and the better your work will look.
- Always cut away from your own body, so that if the knife slips it will not slice you.
- Always carve with the grain, never across it.
For runes that you want to last and look good, make the first cuts at a slight angle, then go over it from the opposite angle so that you are actually carving a sliver out of the wood and leaving a groove rather than a scratch. When you have finished carving, colour the runes with red paint or blood, chanting the name of each as you colour it. There are ways to make this process more magically effective, as described in the above books; these are merely the most basic elements of empowerment. Start writing and transcribing short phrases for each god/ess. When writing in runes, remember: - Runic spelling is not only phonetic, but highly discretionary: for instance, if you have a letter or sound in a fertility inscription for which you would normally use Isa, you may subsitute Ehwaz or Eihwaz as more suitable.
- Runes are not normally duplicated: the word "hallow", for instance, is more properly transcribed "HALO". The only reason to duplicate a rune is if you, for whatever reason, want a specific number of runes in an inscription.
Part II: Ritual Briefly defined, a ritual is the performance of symbolic actions intended to communicate a message. A religious ritual is the performance of symbolic actions designed to provide a framework for communication between living humans and Otherworldly wights (god/esses, alfs and idises, land-wights, and so forth). A ritual may be as simple as the act of sprinkling a few drops of your beer on the earth at an otherwise mundane picnic, or as complex as the performance of a five-hour, hundred-person mystery play. The kind of rituals you, as a Troth Godwo/man, will normally be expected to perform fall close to the middle of these two extremes. Elaborate choreographic training, extensive memorization, and unusual dramatic or vocal ability, and great magical skill will not be required of you. You will, however, need to be able to do some memorization, to recite your lines clearly and expressively, to handle ritual tools smoothly, and to achieve basic competence in warding and hallowing a stead, calling the god/esses and wights, making blessings, and generally raising and directing might. To this end, it is important to keep in mind what your function as the performer of a Teutonic ritual should be, and what the chief function of religious ritual is. Your role may be contrasted to that of a Catholic priest. In the Catholic Church, only an ordained priest is permitted to perform certain rituals: the priest is the sole direct linkage between the deity and his worshippers, and therefore ordained priests are necessary for the practice of the religion. In the Germanic tradition, most, if not all, true folk are expected to have their own basic connection with the god/esses. Neither ordination nor ritual skill make you necessary to anyone practicing the religion: anyone can perform any rite at any time, or simply make a heartfelt call to the god/esses, and if that person is true and sincere, chances are the god/esses will answer. What you can and must do, however, is assist in making that communication easier. This is one of the purposes of Troth ritual training: to teach you to help others make and strengthen their own contacts with the god/esses. In performing a religious ritual, whether it is for one person or a whole group, your function is as a facilitator of communications between the worlds. It is, indeed, helpful to think of yourself as a host at a feast. That is to say: by hallowing a stead, you make a clean and pleasant place in which god/esses, wights, and humans can mingle. By calling on the god/esses and wights, you send out the invitations: the better you know them and they you, the more often you have talked with them and invited them to enjoyable parties, and the more pleasingly sent the invitations are, the likelier they are to show up. At the same time, you are inviting the humans gathered there into the holy stead of awareness in which they can feel the presence of the god/esses and wights among them. You then encourage conversation within appropriate boundaries: that is, the performance of the symbolic actions which carry the messages which the rite is designed to convey, the making of appropriate toasts and boasts, and so forth. You also make food and drink available to everyone present - the ale and perhaps bread, meat, or fruit of the offering. When the time for the gathering to break up has come, you then inform everyone by performing an official closing to the ritual, after which all concerned can mingle as they will. If you, the host, are unskilled, the party can break down at any moment. If the hallowing is not done or badly done, the house may seem dirty and unpleasing to any of the guests who are sensitive enough to notice (human or otherwise). If the calls are badly performed, even if the god/esses are willing to respond to the need in your heart and come anyway (as is most often the case), it may be difficult for the humans there to enter the stead of awareness which they should be sharing with the god/esses. If you perform the actions badly, the wrong message or no message at all may be given. For instance, if you say that you are going to offer ale, and then discover that no one actually managed to bring any, this will likely cause serious offense; if you try to pour a horn full and end up spilling its contents all over yourself, the only message that anyone is likely to get is that you are a klutz. Simple inept fumbling with the tools, like inept god-calling, is unlikely to distress the god/esses unduly, but it will distract the human participants and interfere with the full communication process. Failure to provide some sort of closure to the ritual may lead to spiritual chaos of various sorts: while we trust that our god/esses and wights feast with us after our rituals, it is important to make the distinction between a rite in which every activity is intended to have weighty and direct spiritual significance, and a party at which people (and god/esses) are simply hanging about, having fun, increasing their friendship and kinship, and so forth. In short, every public ritual needs at least one reasonably competent ritual leader if it is fully to have the desired effect of bringing gods and folk together: and this, in a nutshell, is why you are doing ritual training. It is also helpful to consider the chief purposes of ritual. These are: Celebratory A celebratory ritual is one which recognises a specific event, thereby strengthening the awareness of the participants and encouraging the smooth flowing of Wyrd from it. The most common of these are the blessings of the year, which celebrate the points of the year's turning, encouraging the proper shifts of mindset in the participants, recognising the presence of the god/esses in each season's activity and life, and encouraging the next season to flow well and smoothly. Folk-Binding A folk-binding ritual is one which strengthens communal identity. The most common of these is the Kindred symbel. Other rituals which strengthen the bonding between folk include weddings, ritual inaugurations, processions, and smaller things such as the singing of a chosen song, the wearing of chosen garb, and other activities which symbolically proclaim the nature of a group and the identification of all its members with it. Goal-Driven A goal-driven ritual is a ritual performed for a specific purpose. Examples of this might include a rite for healing, a blessing on someone about to go on a journey, a ritual to help find a new house or job, and so forth. Initiatory An initiatory ritual is a ritual performed for marking and/or producing a change of state in the individual being initiated. The most common initiatory rituals include Troth-taking (either in a Kindred or by oneself), name-giving (the ritual acceptance of a newborn into the human world), man- or woman-making, and dedication to a specific god/ess. Devotional A devotional ritual is a ritual performed for the purpose of bringing a human or group of humans closer to a deity/deities or wight/wights. Examples of this range from pouring out a drop of drink all the way to self-sacrifice, but the most common forms of pure devotional ritual are personal meditation and prayer, or a group rite at which a particular deity is called on, toasted, blessed, and asked for blessing.
These are not, of course, absolutely clear-cut categories. For instance, nearly all, if not all, the rituals done by a group have a strong element of folk-binding in them by their very nature as acts performed by that specific group, and all religious rituals, by definition, have a strong element of devotion. A funeral service is an initiatory rite to the deceased, marking his/her transition; it is also goal-driven (blessing and making easier the dead person's faring to whichever part of the Otherworld s/he was inclined towards) and strongly folk-binding (nothing brings a family - or a Kindred - together faster than a funeral, and much of the traditional funeral ritual is designed to strengthen the social support of the bereaved). All rituals, whatever their purpose, also perform several psychological functions. As described by Owe Wikström ('Liturgy as Experience' in The Problem of Ritual, ed. by Tore Ahlbäck (Åbo: Donner Institute, 1993), p. 96), these are: A cognitive function: that is to say, defining the nature of cosmos, being, and similar questions about existence as a whole. An emotional function: providing an experience of the god/esses who accompany us through life and provide security. An ethical function: a way of receiving moral guidance and definition, and aligning the individual with the world of the god/esses. An expressive function: 'the symbols and rites of the service give expression to a feeling of wonderment, awe, gratitude and joy when we are confronted with the holy'.
When preparing a ritual for performance, it is worthwhile to go through these two sets of categories and consider which of them are most relevant to the purpose at hand and how they are fulfilled in the rite. By so doing, you get a clearer sense of the importance of the various activities included in the ritual, and will, therefore, be better prepared to orchestrate it. To perform a public ritual well, you need four main ingredients. These are: blessing (the presence of the god/esses and/or wights), might (the power raised by the person or people performing the ritual), understanding (both your own full understanding of the meaning of the words and actions and the intended effect of the ritual, and the understanding of the other participants), and dramatics (vocal expression and projection, the ability to handle ritual tools, remember your lines or read them smoothly, and generally the capability to make sure the rite goes through smoothly and properly). The first of these is, in the end, not something you have any real control over. However, you can encourage it by working often, and building up a good friendship, with said god/esses and wights (either on your own or with your Kindred) and creating a ritual space in which they feel welcome, comfortable, and generally pleased. The second is a matter of your own ability to set apart a holy stead and call power into it. This does not call for any great magical talent: it can be done quite well by a person of average strength, sensitivity, and confidence with a little regular practice. The third requires you to study the rite thoroughly on your own and then to talk about it with the participants. If you are working in a closed Kindred situation, a study group a week beforehand will be effective for this purpose; if you are holding an open ritual, you will need to be able to separate out the most important elements and give a brief speech beforehand. Finally, the fourth element is entirely your responsibility, and can be fulfilled only by regular practice of ritual skills and rehearsal of each specific ritual before you perform it for others. The books you will need for this are Our Troth and/or Teutonic Religion. Books you may find helpful, particularly in the later part, are Grimes' Beginning in Ritual Studies, Lehmann & Myers' Magic, Myth, and Religion, and Ritual in a New Day: An Invitation (Commission on Worship, United Methodist Church). Other items you will need to have at various points: a Hammer pendant for your own wear; a ritual horn or cup (note: horns can be purchased at Tandy Leather, and both Our Troth and Teutonic Religion include information on making them safe and pleasant to drink from), and a blessing-bowl large enough to hold between a hornfull and two hornfulls of frothing ale. Feeling Might Before you, as a ritual-worker, can effectively hallow a stead and raise might within it, it is needful for you to feel it and have a good sense of what should be within a holy place and what should be blocked out. The first rule of ritual work is given to us in the first verse of Hávamál: Gáttir allar aðr gangi fram,
um scoðaz scyli,
um scygnaz scyli;
þvíat óvist er at vita hvar óvinir
sitia á fleti fyrir. "Before one goes through all doorways, one should peer about them, one should look searchingly about them: for no-one may know where unfriendly folk sit about the walls." In other words, ward yourself and be wary. A good basic warding is to take a Hammer on a chain and swing it clockwise about one's head and body, calling out softly, "Thonar! Thonar! Thonar! Warder of the Ases' Garth, Warder of the Middle-Garth, Warder of human folk, be with me! Ward me in going, ward me in coming; ward me in standing and sitting and staying; ward me in all my works, ward me on all my ways. Hallowed go I from here, hallowed come I again, hallowed am I hence and hither!" Do this over and over again until you feel something - a tingle of might, the sense of light flowing out from the whirling ring of the Hammer to surround you, or some other sign that the warding is active. Then put the Hammer around your neck and go forth, sure in the knowledge that the Warder of the Middle-Garth is with you. Memorize this charm, because there is always the chance that you may need it. Go to a quiet place in as unspoilt and human-free a natural area as you can find (take due precautions such as sunburn lotion and bug repellent as necessary; if this sort of spiritual experience is new to you, minor physical distractions can make the whole process much more difficult and less fruitful). In selecting such a spot, it is important that it be accessible, that herds of noisy children will not be thundering through, and that it be relatively safe. It is preferable to go to a place where you have felt comfortable and welcome before, if you know of one. Burial sites should be avoided, as it is not the purpose of this rite to talk to the dead; Native American holy places should also be avoided, unless you have been there previously and felt yourself welcome. Bring a little food and drink (a piece of bread and a bottle of beer or a carton of milk, perhaps). Sit down with your palms either on the earth or resting against a tree or a rock. Close your eyes. Now breathe deeply through your nose, counting slowly to nine. Your breath should start downward from your diaphragm: it should feel as though the air is swelling down to your groin and then slowly rising to fill your chest, while your shoulders are absolutely still and relaxed. Hold this breath for a count of three; let it go through your mouth, counting to nine. Sit with your lungs empty for a count of three, then breathe in again. This is your basic ritual breath. Later you will have to modify it for the needs of performance, breathing in more swiftly, but it is the breath that you will always use for meditational work. When the breath is coming easily to you and your body is relaxed, open your senses. Listen carefully to whatever is around you...the rustling of leaves, the sounds of birds, the noises of water. Be aware of your bodily feelings as well - the touch of the earth or rock or tree on your palms, wind or sunlight or rain on your head. Do not try to strain or force things with your imagination; but, as you continue to breathe deeply, feel that your senses are stretching outward so that you can feel the dark strength of the might flowing up from the earth, the deep-rooted, high-reaching might of the trees, the great age of the rocks, the cleansing and holy might of running water (or the thundering power of the sea, or the still and secret might of a lake, if you are by any of these bodies). When you can feel this well, open your eyes, letting your sight add to your sense of what is around you. Do not try to focus your gaze on any one thing, but relax your sight. You may actually see shadows, images, or light-plays that are not part of normal vision; do not let these things distract you, but sit quietly like this for a few more minutes. Then stand up, taking a deep breath. Spread your legs wide and stretch your arms upward, looking at the sky. Say, "Above me Ase-Garth's awesome might," and see a spiral of brightness funneling clockwise down into you, linking you to the heavens. Say, "Roots below in Hella's halls," and feel a dark spiral funneling counter-clockwise up into you, rooting you solidly in the earth. Bring your feet together and cross your arms over your chest. Say, "Here in the middle is Middle-Garth's might." See all the might around you solidifying into you, setting your senses and awareness firmly back into your own body. Now sit down and share the food and drink with the wights of the place, in thanks for what they have shown you. Note: it is always a good idea to eat and drink a little something after ritual work. In most forms of magic practiced today, and in traditions which incorporate "magical" techniques into their religious practice, this, and other activities which steady the practitioner and strengthen his/her link to her/his body and the earth, are normally called "grounding", and it is important to do this after rituals so that you do not, for instance, remain so tranced that you drive your car off the road. If, at any point during this exercise, you begin to feel strongly frightened, menaced, or have a strong sense that something is wrong with the place, or you, or both, stand up, grasp your Hammer, and start walking away, repeating the "Thonar Ward" charm softly as you go. Do not run, and do not give way to your fright. In general, unfriendly wights or other such things should be treated like aggressive wild animals: signs of fear make them more likely to attack, and you more vulnerable to their attack. When you get home, even if the sense of menace has abated, it is wise to perform some form of the Hammer rite (given in Teutonic Religion and Our Troth; see discussion in lesson 3) to ward your house. The purpose of the first exercise was feeling natural might. The purpose of this exercise is to feel might generated from within yourself, and is performed, for reasons that will soon become obvious, in the privacy of your own home. Select a time when other folk are not likely to be disturbed by very loud noise. Do the "Thonar Ward" charm. If the Hammer is on a long chain, tie it up tightly around your neck so that even the most violent movements will not cause it to fly up and hit you in the teeth. Select a piece of music which normally arouses a great deal of powerful physical emotion in you (if the piece is short, record several pieces of this sort onto a single tape: it may take you a little while to get fully into the exercise). Strip naked. If you do any form of stretching and/or breathing exercises on a regular basis, do them. Otherwise, simply stretch as well and comfortably as you can, breathing deeply until you are completely relaxed. Put the music on, as loud as you can stand it (or get away with it before your neighbors call the police). Let it roar through you, moving your body to dance, mime the actions in the song, or whatever other energetic physical movements you feel inclined to do. No one is watching you: let all your inhibitions go; give yourself up completely to the power of the music and the might it evokes from within you. If it comes naturally, envision light flowing up from within and bursting out of you, spraying forth from your hands and feet with every movement until the room seems like a laser-show. When the music is at an end, stand as you did at the last rite with feet spread and hands outstretched, saying, "Above me Ase-Garth's awesome might," and so forth. With the last words, "Here in the middle is Middle-Garth's might," you should feel all the energy in the room coalescing into you, drawn back and solidified. Now sit down and eat something. This may be done as many times as you feel necessary, either varying the music or keeping it the same, whichever seems more powerful to you. This exercise is not recommended as a regular part of the practice programme. Its purpose is to protect you if you have to deal with energies which make you strongly uncomfortable, as may happen in this stage where you are working on expanding your psychic sensitivities. Do the "Thonar Ward" charm until you feel really safe and secure. Stand for a few moments, breathing deeply, and see yourself clad in full armour and helm, holding a shield up before you, with a sword at your side. Feel the weight of the chain-mail heavy on your shoulders and its hem swishing about your knees; feel the heaviness of the helm on your head and the cold metal of nosepiece and cheekpieces curving down over your face, the chain-mail gorget hanging down from the helm's edge to ward your neck; feel the sturdy linden-wood before you, standing between you and all harm, and the might of Thonar warm at your back, the god warding you like a shield-brother. When in the area that makes you feel uncomfortable, stand as unobtrusively as possible, breathing deeply. First concentrate on your armour, shield, and the might of the Hammer about you, then, as if you were peering through the eye-holes of your helmet over the rim of your shield, feel about to get a sense of the unpleasantness around you. You may perceive it in a number of different ways: a dark shadow, a whiff of rot, and/or a feeling of slime are three of the most common sensory interpretations of hostile might. Unless you are very sensitive, you are unlikely to actually see a wight, have a vision of a distressing event, or any such specific manifestation; and this is not, in any case, the purpose of this exercise. Once you have a solid sense of what is making you uncomfortable, hold your Hammer and repeat the "Thonar Ward" charm (under your breath, if need be), seeing the warding ring of Thonar's might about you grow brighter, until there is no trace of the offending energy for at least three feet around your body. If you can, go to a sauna. If not, go home and run a bath. Before you get in, swing the Hammer over the water and say, "Thonar hallow the rushing river - all ill wights must flee, all ill might be gone!" Throw a leek, an onion, or a piece of garlic into the water and say, "The cup is signed by Thonar; I cast a leek in the cup. So shall my mead never be blended with harm; so shall all spoor of ill be rinsed from me." Get in the bath. Submerge yourself totally for a moment. If you only have a shower, sign it with the Hammer as above and hold the leek/onion/garlic while saying, "The water falls from heaven-fells; signed by Thonar, it cleanses; I hold the hallowed leek. So shall my mead never be blended with harm; so shall all spoor of ill be rinsed from me." When you are absolutely sure you are clean, get out and eat something.
The Ritual Voice Your voice is your chief external instrument in ritual work. If it is not a particularly pleasant voice, do not despair. The purpose of ritual vocalization is not prettiness, but power. Although the ability to sing well is an advantage in ritual work, the vocal use is more comparable to that of stage performance: what you have must be utilized in such a manner as to convey the role most effectively, not to impress folk with how nice you sound. Not only can all voices can be made more effective with training, but part of your work will be to develop a ritual style which is particularly suited to your own capabilities. A book which will assist you in this is Cicely Berry's Voice and the Actor. If it is at all possible for you to do so, either arrange for singing lessons, take an acting class, or, preferably, both. In most towns, it will be easier and cheaper to find some sort of communal theatrical programme, especially if there is a university or community college: summer and night classes in theatre are frequently on offer. Acting classes will also be of more general benefit for ritual work, as they also teach movement, handling props, improvisation, and so forth. If you live in a really small town, your only recourse may be something like private lessons in hymn-singing with the local church's only soprano. This is neither wonderful nor particularly pleasant, but vastly better than nothing. The following exercises are given as more or less stopgap measures for those who, for whatever reason, do not have access to any form of personal vocal training. Consider your voice. What is its range (high, medium, low)? What is its power like (do you blow people away when you speak? Do you have trouble making yourself heard when you have to raise your voice to talk over noise)? What is its tonal quality - is it smooth and mellow, or are unkind folk inclined to compare its sound to a vulture arriving late at the dead donkey? If you have had any experience in singing, even in a school choir, you will probably have a pretty good sense of some of these elements. If not, you may be completely at sea. The best way to answer these questions if you don't already know the answer is to make a tape recording of yourself. Find the best machine possible, as a little distortion is always inevitable. Record yourself reciting the "Thonar Ward" charm - first in a quiet, but intense whisper; secondly, at a normal volume; thirdly, as loudly as you can speak without actually breaking into a shout or scream. Then sing something fast. Then sing something slow. Then play it back. Then, if you are like most people doing this for the first time, you will scream, "That's not what I sound like!", fling the tape recorder across the room, and commit hara-kiri. Quite seriously: because much of what you hear when you vocalize is resonance carried by bone conduction, your voice always sounds different to your own ears than it does to everyone else's. And at least nine out of ten people hate the way they sound on tape (the tenth person is probably a professional actor or singer). Unless the machinery you are using is professional quality, the sound of the recording itself will also probably be somewhat inferior to that of your voice. So now put your guts back into your body and pick up the tape recorder. Pretend that you are a drama coach and that this is a recording of a new student. Evaluate it for tone quality, control, and power. Is the voice rough or smooth? Does it convey emotional intensity, or is it a monotone that could be reading a grocery list? On the "loud" repetition, does it sound at all strained or cracked? Is the singing on-key? On the "slow" piece, are the breaths and phrasing smooth and controlled, or does it sound broken and jumpy? Write all of these answers down, as objectively as you can. Now repeat the whole exercise, keeping in mind what you have observed and trying, as best as you can, to correct the faults. Listen to the first repetition again, then the second, and see if there are any changes between them. Now that you have an idea of what you sound like, sit down and see if you can think of any actors with voices similar to yours. No matter how odd you sound, chances are there will be someone. Note: you can ask friends and Kindred members about this, but this is only recommended if you like the sound of your voice: otherwise, they may or may not give you honest answers, and you may not like the answers you get if they do. Once you have found a model, do a little research into the roles s/he has played most successfully. Watch the films and see how s/he uses the vocal style in question to create an effect. Whatever your vocal type, abilities, or limitations, the first thing you need to know how to do in ritual performance is called vocal projection. This is the skill by which it is possible for an actor or singer on-stage to be heard clearly in the back row, while still apparently speaking in normal tones or singing very softly. If you have acting or singing training. you can skip this part of the lesson. Begin by standing at one end of the largest room you can work in. Your goal is to, while speaking in normal tones, be clearly audible at the other end. It is all the better if you can do this with a partner who can stand across the room from you and evaluate your performance; if not, envision someone about your height to whom you are speaking, and look him/her straight in the eye. In the absence of a partner, it will help to put your tape recorder at that end of the room and record yourself. Good vocalization comes from the diaphragm. Stretch, relax, then breathe in a good deep ritual breath through your nose. As you speak, you should feel a solid column of air rising up from the base of your body, through your throat, and into your head. Although the words are coming through your mouth, you should feel the sound spearing out from the middle of your forehead. Feel the back of your throat opening upward; see your whole head as an open, resonant cave (at this point in the lesson, jokes are usually made about the empty skulls of singers and actors). Do not let your chin tip up, as this will strain the sound: remember, the person across the room is your height, and you are looking straight into his/her eyes. Be careful not to shout; keep the volume of your voice to a normal level. Also be careful that your shoulders stay perfectly level - all the power of your breath should come from your diaphragm; if your shoulders are moving, you are breathing from your upper chest, which will not provide the breath support you need. Your back must be straight, your hands hanging relaxed at your sides: do not let yourself clench them. Do not, at this point, worry about dramatic emphasis, ritual power and so forth in your words: simply speak, pitching the words in the middle of your comfortable range or perhaps a little higher. Say, Hail, Day! Hail, Day's sons!
hail to Night and her daughter!
With loving eyes look you upon us,
and sig (1 "Sig" is pronounced to rhyme with wig. It means "victory", and is often used in Germanic ritual in place of the Latin-based word) give to those standing here! Hail to the gods! Hail the goddesses,
Hail the all-giving Earth!
Fair speech and wit to famed ones here grant,
and healing hands, while we live. Hail! (This prayer consists of verses 3-4 of the Eddic poem Sigrdrífumál, spoken by the ex-valkyrie Sigrdrífa when Sigurðr awakens her. It is almost the only Heathen prayer surviving from elder days, and thus is frequently used in modern Germanic religion, especially at Ostara and dawn rituals, though it is acceptable as a general blessing at any time. You should memorize it. Note that you are likely to run into several different translations in the course of your career) Now ask your partner if the sound carried well and if you sounded at all as though you were shouting or straining to be heard. Or listen to the tape recorder and evaluate it for yourself. Ideally, you should sound as though you were speaking clearly, but standing next to the tape recorder instead of across a large room. If your first attempt at projection was unsuccessful, evaluate what you did wrong. Were you too busy concentrating on the words to pay attention to what your voice was doing? In that case, try something simpler: instead of "Hail to Day", simply recite a list of god-names: "Wodan. Frija. Thonar. Fro Ing. Frowe. Skadhi. Loki. Balder", and so forth. Other common faults include raising your voice or straining for volume (cure: self-control - actively concentrate on not getting any louder than a normal conversational tone), improper breathing (cure: practice reciting the prayer slowly for a while, stopping for a good deep ritual inhalation between every line), and failure to create proper head resonance (cure: try it again, with your main focus of awareness on the high arch at the back of your throat, the empty resonance of your skull, and the projection of the sound out from between your eyes). If your first attempt at projection was successful, do it a few more times to make sure. Try putting more emotion into your voice: open your eyes a little more widely, smile, open your mouth a little farther, and concentrate on your voice ringing in the very top of your head to give the sound a brighter tone. Envision yourself standing on a mountain peak with the sun rising before you, brightening the mist in the valley below, as the stars fade from the lightening blue sky behind you; feel that joy, and send it out on the stream of power beaming across the room from the middle of your forehead. When you have done this a couple of times, you should be able to feel the might thrumming through you as you speak; if you have a partner, ask if s/he can perceive any difference or feel anything out of the ordinary. When you have achieved this, it is time to try varying the emotion with a slightly longer piece of Sigrdrífumál, beginning with verse 2. Sigrdrífa, still heavy with her long sleep, is recalling how Óðinn stripped her of her valkyriehood. She says, I slept long, long was I asleep,
life is long to the sad.
It was Óðinn willed that I might no longer
brandish bloody staves. Speak these words slowly and sadly, at a lower pitch than the "Hail, Day" prayer. You should still feel them coming out of the middle of your forehead and resonating through your skull, but as well as the arch at the top of your throat, you should feel the bottom of your throat opening out into the deep cave of your lungs, and your chest should thrum with them. Then let your throat arch higher and all the power of your speech travel up to resonate hard in the middle and top of your skull as you pitch your voice upward again and speak the "Hail, Day" as you did before, smiling and joyous. As well as speaking, you will also want to be able to chant. Chanting is distinguished from singing in that it is usually on a single pitch or, at most, covers only a very limited range. The tonal quality of most chanting is halfway between strongly vibrated speaking and actual singing. The advantage of chanting over singing in ritual is that a melody does not have to be learnt, the musical elements do not distract the hearers from the words, the largely monotonous character of the chant helps bring about a state of open consciousness and receptiveness in the hearers, and the Godwo/man doing it does not have to have any singing ability beyond being able to breathe properly and maintain a steady, strong, regular sound. The choice of when to chant and when to speak in a ritual is entirely up to your own sense of drama, power, and immediate inspiration, but elements that are more often chanted are such things as the opening hallowing and calls to the god/esses, while specific prayers, verses to which the folk are supposed to respond, and so forth, are more usually spoken. To practice chanting, stand as you did for projection training. Concentrate on the same physical elements (breath support from the diaphragm, posture, relaxation, open throat, head resonance). Begin with a low hum, until you can feel your teeth rattling. Slowly open your mouth; see the tone spreading out from between your eyes in a wide cone as you open the sound to a pure vowel. Chant: AAAAAAA (as in "Ah")
EY (as in "hey")
EEEEEEEEE (as in "week")
eeeeeeeeeeeeee (as in "well")
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII (as in "eye")
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii (as in win)
OOOOOOOOO (as in "Oh")
OW (as in cow)
UUUUUUUUU (as in "you")
uuuuuuuuuuuuu (as in "cushion")
UH (as in "rug") The sounds should vibrate through your whole body, but the vibration should be strongest in the middle of your forehead (where you envision the sound coming out) and the top of your skull. You may notice that EEEEEEEE tends to rise in pitch, while OOOOO and UUUUU tend to sink. If you have ambitions of singing, you will wish to control this, making sure that all the notes sound on the same pitch and do not wobble in tone. If you do not, feel free to let them go where they will, as the slight natural variation will only improve your chanting. When you end a tone, you should either taper it slowly down to nothing or cut it off cleanly. A common fault among beginning singers is to end with a sort of loud lurch or hiccup. Be sure that your partner, if you have one, is aware of this and can correct you if you start doing it. When you are comfortable with the vowels, you may begin chanting god-names, in whatever linguistic form you choose (here, some Old Norse names are given together with Troth Germanic forms). The consonants should be crisp; take care to keep the vowels open. Final n's and m's may be tapered down into a hum. Here, the prolonged vowels will be given as according to the sound-values above: - Skaði: SkAAAAAAdhEEEEEEE (Skah-thee. The sound spelt as ð is pronounced th as in the, not th as in thorn, which is represented by þ in Old Norse)
- Óðinn: OOOOOOOOOOdhiiiiiiiiiiiin (O-thin)
- Wodan: WOOOOOOOOdAAAAAAAn
- Ullr: uuuuuuuuuuuuullr (Uh-lur. End it fast)
- Frigg: Friiiiiiiiiiiiiiigg
- Frija: FrEEEEEEEyAAAAA
- Freyja: FrEY-UH
- Freyr: FrEYr
- Fro: FrOOOOOOOOOOO
- Frowe: FrOW-UH
- Hel: Heeeeeeeel
Continue at will. It may be that, with repeated chanting of a deity's name, you will begin to feel a certain sense of presence. It is, therefore, advisable to have a hornfull or cupfull of beer available (or, if you are a non-drinker, apple juice or nonalcoholic beer). At the end of the session, lift it and say, To all the gods and goddesses high,
I hail you, holy folk! Then take a drink, pour the rest into a blessing bowl, and pour it out onto the earth. Chanting is distinguished from ordinary speech, not only by the intensity and vibration of sound produced, but by its strongly rhythmic character. Accordingly, when you are producing the appropriate tonal quality easily, it is time to begin chanting verse. Germanic verse forms may be difficult to get to grips with at first: they are generally based on the broken half-line bound by alliteration on stressed syllables. Try reading the practice piece aloud several times, stressing the syllables that are typed in boldface. If you have a stringed or keyed instrument, try a quick strum on the strings between half-lines; if not, beat a drum or the bottom of a saucepan. To hear-ing I bid all ho-ly chil-dren,
Both high and low of Heim-dall's kin.
Val-Fa-ther, you willed, that well I should say,
All eld-est ta-les, that I first re-mem-ber.
Et-ins I mind, ear-liest bairns,
The ones who first fost-tered me up.
Nine worlds mind I, nine in the wood,
Of met-ing tree well-known, the mould beneath. Old was the age, when Y-mir lived,
there was no sand, nor waves ice-cold.
The earth was not, nor up-Heav-en,
Ginn-ungagap on-ly, and grass no-where. When this flows smoothly, go on practicing with favourite passages from the Eddas and/or bits from the rituals in your secondary source(s), until you find the rhythms coming easily to you.
Ritual Performance 1 Read chapters XXXV through XXXVII in Our Troth and/or chapter 14 in Teutonic Religion. Perform the exercises in chapter XXXVI and go through the books recommended by Alice Karlsdottir at the end of the chapter. If you do not have Our Troth, the books you are looking for are Claudia Sullivan's The Actor Alone: Exercises for Work in Progress, Sarah Barken's The Alexander Technique, Eric Morris' Acting from the Ultimate Consciousness (and other books by this author), Sonia Moore's The Stanislavsky System: The Professional Training of an Actor, and Constantin Stanislavski's An Actor Prepares (also: Building a Character and Creating a Role). While all these books are not necessary to have right away, the more you are able to work with them, the better your ritual performance will become. For an historical background and a tremendous resource regarding elements of folk-drama that you can work into your own Kindred's rituals and festival practices, consider Terry Gunnell's The Origins of Drama in Scandinavia. For people raised in Christian society, especially Protestants, it is often difficult to understand the close interaction of ritual and theatre. However, we know that the Classical theatre developed from religious ritual, and Gunnell makes a good argument that a similar process may have occurred with Scandinavian folk-theatre. Consider what theatre is: it is the use of words, gestures, clothing, and perhaps music in order to evoke an emotional response - a response that can range from laughter to full-fledged emotional catharsis - in both audience and actors (necessarily so: to be believed, an actor must first believe him/herself). Exactly the same is true for ritual, although the purpose is even more intense, as the response is not only expected to be emotional, but spiritual, and to involve the god/esses and wights who participate as well as human beings. This does not mean that every ritual has to be done on a large scale by Godfolk with voices like Matti Salminen and Jessye Norman. It means, as in the staging of a theatrical play, that every element needs to be consistent with the message conveyed to gods and humans and to convey that message clearly and well, whether the situation is the mountaintop calling of Thonar to bring a thunderstorm in front of three hundred people by Godman Erik the Loud and his Amazing Fifteen-Pound Hammer, or the calling of the idises on Mothernights by Godwoman Helga the Quiet as she sits stitching on her embroidery in a small, candlelit living room. There is often a certain tendency for folk who were raised Protestant to think of theatre in ritual as entertainment at best, sound and fury getting in the way of spiritual experience at worst. This is a viewpoint peculiar to that particular branch of Christianity, alien to Heathenry (or any other traditional religion). The importance of theatrical ritual is that it is our chief tool in harmonizing the worlds and producing a state of awareness and an energy level in which gods and humans can interact without distraction: the trappings of theatre serve to open the ways between the worlds. The first ritual for you to practice, the Hammer Rite, is the most common preface to other rituals, being done for the purpose of hallowing and warding a stead. It appears in several different published forms, chiefly for the purpose of getting around copyright problems. You can find it in, for instance, FUTHARK, A Book of Troth, Teutonic Religion, and Our Troth. The original was, so far as I know, created by Edred Thorsson, and may find part of its ultimate origin in the ceremonial magick Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram. For this reason, some folk have expressed doubts as to whether it is really suitable for use in Germanic religion. However, each element of the ritual - the use of the four or eight directions in magico-religious practice, the use of the Hammer-sign to hallow and ward, and the practice of ritually setting aside a holy stead - has a firm basis in Germanic tradition, while the incompatible elements inherent in the ceremonial rite (for instance, the ceremonial attribution of the four elements to the four quarters and the association of beings of power with said elements; the vibration of mystic deity-names; and, of course, the sign of the pentagram itself) have been carefully weeded out. Thus we may state with reasonable safety that, although this specific ritual is modern, it would probably be unlikely to have raised eyebrows if performed in tenth-century Iceland. Select the form of the rite which you find appeals best to you (or which is the most accessible), and set about memorizing it. None is particularly superior to any other, but consistency is important: make a choice and stick to it. In the process of memorization, of this or any other ritual, it is best to walk around and make the appropriate gestures as you mutter to yourself. The more you practice in this manner, the more the gestures and words will be linked in your body-memory, and the smoother your overall presentation will be. When practicing or performing a ritual, it is always better to make your gestures too big than too small, too slow than too fast, too strong than too weak. The impression you wish to project at all times is one of intensity and certainty, and on top of that, you want to make sure that everyone can see what you are doing really well. With the Hammer rite, the best way to ensure this is to start by getting the heaviest sledgehammer you can comfortably lift and really swing it hard when you make the sign of the Hammer. After you have practiced this a few times, set the sledgehammer down and try to get the same effect by imagining your fist as the hammer's heavy metal head. The reason this is important is that, although you may normally use a hallowed Hammer when performing a prescheduled ritual, you never know when you may need to make the blessing-sign with your full might. Also, the strength and intensity that is required to swing a heavy hammer hard should be ingrained in your body's memory as the basis of all ritual gestures. When you are comfortable walking-through the motions and reading from the book, sit down and close your eyes. Subvocalize the ritual, moving your hands in the appropriate gestures. When you can do this and get all the way through it without flubbing lines or missing a move, it is time to stand up and do the ritual with full voice and full might. At this point, assuming you did everything correctly, you now have a warded room, house, or personal space, depending on where you saw yourself setting the Hammers. It should be noted that the Hammer-hallowing is a religious blessing on a place, and it is not the same thing as a magical circle. For instance, stepping in and out of it will not break it, nor do participants in a ritual warded by this method need to cut themselves in and out, open doors in the warding, or anything of that nature. Also, unlike a magical circle, a Hammer-hallowing does not need to be taken down when the rite is over unless there is some pressing reason why the site should not continue to have Thonar's blessing and warding asked upon it. Practice the Hammer ritual until you can do it smoothly. A good way to strengthen your own abilities to raise and feel might is to do the Hammer rite every morning and every evening. This will also help strengthen your sense of contact with the world of the god/esses, not to mention warding you very thoroughly from whatever unfriendly wights might be wandering around. At this point, it is also time for you to start practicing the other chief gestures which often give new Godfolk trouble: that is, pouring ale into a horn, drinking from the horn, and pouring it from the horn into the bowl without making a mess (if you are a non-drinker who expects to be performing rites with alcohol for folk who do drink, use a near-beer like Clausthaler or Kaliber, which will give you at least some sense of what the froth does. If you never intend to use real ale or beer, then practice with whatever it is you are likely to use). Timing the flow of ale into the horn with your ritual is very important. The reason for this is, ale poured into a horn froths up tremendously and takes a long time to settle enough for you to drink without getting foam all over your face. Doing wet runs of the pertinent part of several different rituals will give you a sense of whether you prefer to start pouring during whatever calling or blessing is spoken before the drinking, allow for a long pause during which folk can listen in silence to the voices of the god/esses, have someone else stand around ready to pass you pre-filled horns, or just go for it, pour until the horn is full, and let the head froth over the edge and run everywhere (this can be a good dramatic gesture, but it only really works outdoors; otherwise everyone stops thinking about the ritual and starts thinking, "Oh my gods, the floor!"). Once you have the ale in the horn, you need to learn how to drink from the horn. If you have not done this before, the keyword here is slowly. Tilt it with the tip pointing upwards, so that the ale runs along the long side. Drink. Drink several times, until the horn is empty. You will notice that the chances of it spilling over you get higher as the level in the horn gets lower, because when there is less than half a horn, the drink tends to pool in the middle for a moment, then rush out in a giant wave (and of course, the larger the horn is, the more noticeable this tendency becomes). When you have mastered the arts of filling and drinking from a horn, the next thing you need to be able to do is pour liquid out of the horn and into the bowl without spilling it. This is not easy, either. Try it with water first, holding both items over the sink. When you feel you have got the hang of it, then try beer (to simulate real-life conditions, where the horn will usually have been passed around at least once before you empty it into the bowl, drink some of the beer), observing how much froth you get. A good blessing bowl should hold at least a hornfull and a half of ale, based on the fact that the general ritual symbel consists of three rounds and a medium-sized Kindred (5-8 people) will usually empty something like one half to two-thirds of a medium-sized horn (holding about two beers). Choose short scenes from Eddic poems or passages from sagas. Read the section silently a couple of times so that you have a clear idea of the emotions and expression that the character or characters are using, then read them aloud, as expressively as you can. If possible, get someone else to do this with you and add the physical motions that go with the words. Eddic poems are exceptionally good for this, as they are written in script form anyway.
Calling the God/esses Note that this lesson is likely to take a very long time to complete in full. Therefore, after you have done at least three god/esses, you may continue to V and on from there, interspersing subsequent god/ess callings with other exercises. You should be performing this exercise together with the corresponding lesson under Lore. For each god/ess, start with the process of research described there. By the time you have finished that, you should have a fair idea of who you are dealing with: what deeds s/he is known for; what his/her bynames are; what sort of things s/he was usually called on for (as well as how, and by whom); what images and forces are associated with him/her; and so forth. Read Our Troth, ch. XXXIV, and/or Teutonic Religion, ch. 15. You are now ready to construct a brief calling and blessing for the god/ess in question. If you are not experienced in writing and/or performing rituals, you should probably follow the basic format given here. The ritual need not be composed in verse. Since the only persons involved are you and the god/ess, an heartfelt speech will be sufficient; at your choice, you may find simply speaking your feelings at the moment when you feel the god/ess' presence to be more useful and fitting than actually writing and memorizing something beforehand. In getting ready for the rite, again, the image of a host inviting an honoured guest is useful. You have found out who your guest is, what s/he likes, how s/he may be recognised upon arrival, how s/he should properly be addressed and spoken to, and what forms of behaviour may be expected of her/him. Now it is time to make the appropriate preparations. The more you can do in decorating your holy stead appropriately, the easier it will be for you to make your call and get an answer: you are both changing the feeling within the stead so that the god/ess will be more comfortable there, and doing a form of preliminary practical meditation which will make it easier for you to feel his/her presence. Such decorations may include things like: hanging or covering the floor with fabrics in a fitting colour or colours (traditional, like Wodan's deep blue-black and Thonar's red; modern, like the green and gold often associated with Fro Ing; or stemming from your own personal understanding and intuition); setting up little statues or pictures which show something associated with the god/ess (holy animals, natural landscapes), putting appropriate items around (a spearhead for Wodan, Hammer for Thonar, spindle for Frija, golden or amber necklace for the Frowe), decorating with whatever flowers, dried plants, or such seem fitting, and so forth. Alternatively, you can look for a stead outdoors in which the might of the god/ess can be easily felt (a mountaintop, a lakeside, a beach?). Choosing the right drink for the blessing can also be a useful form of contemplation: not only must you decide what form of drink is most fitting (ale? mead? wine? hard liquor? milk? apple juice? spring water?), but you also have the opportunity to seek out a brand with an appropriate label and name. Microbrewery and British ales are especially appropriate for this purpose: Victory Ale, Raven Ale, and Grimsberger for Wodan, for instance, or Skull-Splitter for Thonar, White Boar for Fro Ing, and so forth. While this may seem like a very frivolous exercise, in fact, it forces you to really think about experiencing the character of the deity in a practical, understandable, down to earth way: for instance, it seems fairly obvious that Skaði's favourite drink is Finlandia vodka, preferably served straight out of the freezer with the frost-mist still chilling off the bottle, poured into a stone or crystal shot-glass. The exercise also emphasises the essential relationship between us and our god/esses: namely, that we are friends and kin - and, if a good friend were coming to visit, you'd want to offer him a drink that he would really enjoy, wouldn't you? When you are all ready to begin, put up the Do Not Disturb sign, unplug the phone and make sure no one is due to visit you. If someone bangs on the door, let them bang. The god/esses are usually fairly understanding about your need to take care of mundane matters, but if you are not experienced in ritual practice, the last thing you need is to be shaken out of the middle of a rite and forced to focus on something else. Do the Hammer Rite. Call the god/ess. The calling should, if possible, refer to some of his/her deeds and characteristics, and/or use at least some of his/her by-names, if any are known. It is also good to make reference to the way in which the holy stead has been readied for the god/ess. For example: "Frija, mighty mother, frowe of house and home! Hlín, who weeps for Balder; Wodan's wife, rede-giver to the one-eyed god; spinner and seeress, silent knower of ørlgs! Rising falcon-winged from Fensalir's depths, Frija, fare thou to my hall. Here the floors are swept for thy coming; the cups are washed, and the linens are clean. Hail thee, Frija, welcome and hail!" (and the house had better be clean, too, since Frija has the keen eye of a Swedish housewife where dust and muss are concerned) Note: it is good to have a couple of basic calling-verses, or at least the chief elements (deeds, names, characteristics) memorized for each of the god/esses, since you never know when you may need to call upon them with no warning or chance for preparation. If you haven't felt any holy presence by the time the calling is over, repeat it twice more, then wait in silence a while. If you still don't feel anything, fill the horn and say, "I drink to thee, holy (name): might and joy to thee aye!" Drink; pour the rest in the bowl. If you are outside, pour it out on the earth. If you are inside, say, "Weal to thee, weal through the worlds; in weal I go forth from here." Perform some gesture to show that the rite is over - tap the Hammer on the harrow three times, for instance, blow on a horn, or clap your hands sharply. Then go outside and pour what is in the bowl out on the earth. Write down all that you did and experienced - or didn't experience - in full detail. Consider what, if anything, you might have done wrong and ask yourself why either the god/ess might not have chosen to be present at the rite, or whether any personal factors could have been blocking your sense of his/her presence. Continue with your research on the next god/ess, and wait until you have done several more to go back to this one. If, however, you do feel the presence of the god/ess, you may proceed to either recite a memorized speech or say what is in your heart. This may consist of nothing more than, "Thank you for coming. I would like to get to know you better; can you please help me with this", or you may find that you have a great deal that you would like to say. In any case, be sure that you leave a certain quiet space during which you can listen. Whether you seem to hear an actual voice, get a series of images, or merely feel a general impression, you may be sure that you are being answered in the manner that is most fitting for you at this time. When it seems fitting, fill the horn and lift it (if you decided on a hard liquor, a small cup may be subsituted). Make whatever toast you feel like making to the god/ess. Even if the rest of the rite was memorized, this should be spontaneous. Take a drink, then pour the rest into the bowl. Lift the bowl and offer it to the god/ess. Dip a twig into it and sprinkle the harrow, the eight directions, and yourself. If you are outside, you may pour the bowlfull out on the earth or harrow now. Thank the god/ess for coming, blessing him/her on her/his way home and asking that s/he look on you with friendly eyes in times to come. Perform some gesture to show that the rite is over. If you are inside, go outside and pour the bowl out on the earth. Write down all that you did and experienced, in full detail (for instance: it is not sufficient to say simply, "I felt the presence of Frija." You need to describe the feeling - a general warm tingle? A light blue shimmering in the air? The sense that someone else was actually standing in the room next to you?). Pay special attention to your dreams for the next night or three. Sometimes, especially if you are not experienced in ritual sensitivity, the god/ess may have to wait until you are asleep to actually get through to your consciousness, or may have told you something that can only consciously surfact in sleep. If you find yourself feeling highly uncomfortable with one deity or another, or feel that you have a particular reason to dislike him or her, you should be aware that this is not all that uncommon. Wodan and Loki are the two gods who most often provoke nervousness, but folk have been known to feel unwilling to call on a number of the god/esses for personal reasons. At this stage in your training, when you are first getting used to calling the god/esses and feeling their might, if you have no more experienced folk around to talk about the matter with, supervise you, and so forth in the process, it is not good for you to try to call one with whom you feel uncomfortable or have personal issues. However, especially if the deity in question is one of the better-known ones, it is probable that you will, at some point, find yourself having to deal with him/her in a ritual setting, a counselling matter, or both; and certainly you will be responsible for teaching his/her lore accurately, without allowing your personal feelings to colour it too strongly. In such a case, therefore, you should follow the normal procedure of reading the primary and secondary sources and writing a ritual. This will give you a chance to think seriously about the god/ess; why some good and true folk call upon him/her (and this is true for every deity in our pantheon, including some of the more marginal deities such as Loki, Ægir, and Rán); what her/his necessary manifestations are in the worlds of humans, god/esses, and nature; and, generally, it is important for folk to know and honour him/her. For instance: many worshippers of Thonar have trouble dealing with Loki, yet Thonar himself chooses the Sly One as a friend and traveling companion, and one of our earliest skaldic poems, Haustlng, refers to Loki as "Þórr's highly trusted rede-giver": clearly the god has a different view than that of some of his followers, and knowing why this is so will shed light on Thonar as well as on Loki. If you still are not ready to deal directly with that god/ess in a full ritual setting, instead of performing the ritual you have written, condense it into a toast in which you say, basically, "O (name of deity), known for (this, that, and the other), worker of (these deeds), I give you honour for your might of (whatever) and your working of (these functions) in the Nine Worlds. Hail to you, without whom (this, that, or the other would not happen or would not have happened). May I learn to understand you better, and to help your chosen ones when they have need." This toast may be given at a symbel, if you have one coming up soon, or you may do it in the privacy of your own holy stead, after a short period of quiet meditation. If the latter, drink some of it, pour the rest into a blessing-bowl, and pour it out on the ground. If you are still especially uncomfortable with the god/ess after your research and consideration, choose a deity with whom you are more friendly who also has some connection with the deity in question. For instance, both Wodan and Thonar are traditionally friends with Loki; Wodan and Njörðr are both on good terms with Skaði, Thonar travels with Tiw in Hymiskviða and shares some of his attributes and functions, as do Forseti and Wulþur (Ullr), both gods associated with elements of law, and so forth. Instead of making the toast to the god/ess you are uncomfortable with, make it first to the one you are comfortable with, and ask him/her to help you understand and work with the other one (who has done thus and such deeds, fulfills thus and such a function, and so forth) as best as is fitting for you.
Calling and Speaking With the Wights Read the lore and do the work in the corresponding lesson under Lore. The first step in speaking with wights is to find them. While all alfs and idises can be called on within your home or in a holy stead, for meeting them the first time, it is better to go to the stead where their might can be most clearly seen or felt. - Light Alfs: preferably high places at dawn or on bright days.
- Dark or Mound Alfs: If you live in Northern Europe, you should go to an old burial mound. If you live anywhere else, Dark Alfs are best called within your house; your house-ghost or family follower may originally have been a Dark Alf. Do not try to subsitute Native American burial places for Northern European burial mounds. The natives probably won't like it, and you probably won't enjoy the results.
- Swart Alfs or dwarves: underground places or big rocks.
- Idises: at home, beside the hearth (if you have one) or the heart of your house.
- House-ghosts: either as idises or, if you have a barn, in the barn.
- Land-wights: special features in the landscape (boulders, small hills, cliffs, bodies of water, especially waterfalls and streams, large trees). Land-wights can be found where-ever there is quiet and natural or carefully tended land, but dislike noise and strife: if you see an unnaturally barren, lifeless, overbuilt, and/or polluted area, chances are that its land-wights have left. However, it is often easiest to perceive them at landscape features.
Certain feasts or times of the year are easier than others to find or call some of the wights at. Light Alfs are most easily seen at Ostara and Midsummer (and generally in the summer half of the year); land-wights around the beginning of harvest-time (about August 1), Dark Alfs, idises, and house-ghosts at Winternights and Yule, and Swart Alfs in the winter half of the year. This does not mean that you cannot, for instance, talk to your idises at Midsummer, Light Alfs at Yule, or land-wights at any time of year; however, the more fitting the year-tide is to the nature of the wight, the easier it will be for you to see, hear, or feel their presence. Bring an offering. Ale or milk (always whole milk, never 2% or skim) and bread are the most usual. If you are dealing with the land-wights of North America, it is wise to bring tobacco as well, because it is what these land-wights expect. Northern European land-wights do not, but many of the house-ghosts in these countries have grown used to tobacco in the last two or three centuries, and do consider it their due. Good pipe tobacco is best, and there are many New Age publications which advertise ritual tobacco which is organically grown, untreated with chemicals, and generally superior as an offering; however, any tobacco will do. Once you have found your stead, if it is outdoors in a public place, look around it and pick up any trash that anyone may have thrown about (it is even better if you bring a small trash bag and start doing this on the way to the stead. The more care you show for the state of the land, the likelier your visit is to be met with favour by any in-dwelling wights. Sit down quietly with your eyes closed and start breathing deeply. Stretch out your senses as you did in the first ritual exercise. First try to get a sense of the stead: the general feeling of it, the way its might moves and flows, and so forth. Then listen more carefully: does it seem to you that you can feel any movement nearby? Open your eyes and sit quietly. As with the work you have done calling the god/esses, the ways in which you can sense an indwelling wight or wights in a stead can vary considerably: you may see flickering movements in the corner of your eye, hear rustlings outside or murmurings inside your head, find yourself receiving images or feelings, and so forth. You should not try too hard to visualize, as wights are inclined to appear in a variety of shapes. Land-wights are especially likely to show up in the Middle-Garth as birds or beasts; dwarves have been known to take the shapes of stags, and house-ghosts to appear as cats, for instance. Then again, especially if you are dealing with a land-wight attached to a landscape feature, you may only sense its presence within the stone, tree, stream, or whatever. When you feel or see the wight, you may begin speaking softly, whispering, or subvocalizing to him/her, as seems most fitting. Wights do not usually await high ceremony: it is more fitting to speak to a wight as you would to a friendly acquaintance or good friend, depending on the feelings you get from him/her (if the wight seems displeased with your presence, apologise for bothering her/him and ask if there is anything you can do. If you do not get any reply and the sense of displeasure does not lessen, lay your offering down untouched and go away. Consider what either you might have done wrong or what others in the past might have: for instance, if the area has been trashed by tourists, mucked up physically or spiritually by heavy metal bozos who think they're Satanists, or subjected to heavy industrial works, mechanical noise, and so forth, the wights there may not want to talk to any humans, for any reason. Doing your best to clear things up, if you can, will help; but some places can be fixed by nothing short of major political activism, which is outside the range of this training. If the sense of unpleasantness continues, perform the Hammer-working as described in the first lesson). Tell the wight who you are and why you're there; you may wish to ask the wight her/his name and function in the area, or questions about the spiritual and physical landscape, and so forth. If the wight is a Swart Alf and you are a craftsperson, it is fitting to ask his/her advice and help with craftwork; if the wight is a land-wight in your garden, you can ask questions about what might be good to grow where, where it would be fitting to put holy stones or god-images, talk to him/her about how well your land is warded, what blessings it might want, and so forth. When you have finished, drink a little of your drink and take a bite of your bread, then pour out the rest of the drink and set down the bread. Say your goodbyes and go away. Write down all that you felt and saw. Pay special attention to your dreams that night; wights very often make themselves known to folk in dreams. When calling on Dark Alfs and idises, or talking to house-ghosts, make sure that your home is reasonably tidy and neat. If you can, take out or cover the more jarring modern appliances in the room where you are doing this, and light it with candles and/or a fireplace instead of electrical lights. The reason for this is that, in speaking with these wights, you are becoming aware of your whole clan-wyrd - all those folk who spun and wove, carved wood and scraped hides, sang songs and told stories, by firelight. If you know a traditional craft of this sort, sit and practice it for a little w
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