Perspective

I love ritual!  Be it a Sabbat at the Turning of the Wheel, the drums at a Voodoo ritual, the swinging incense censer at an Orthodox Church, dancing at a women’s Passover Seder, or listening to the hypnotic chant of a Latin Mass, I’m mesmerized.   Add tradition and I’m hooked.

            That being said I hadn’t planned to spend Christmas Eve at a Christian church.  But the music is ethereal; the decorations are rich, and the feeling “holy”.  The people there are full of quiet anticipation.

I settle in and gaze up at the altar.  Painted on the back wall are sparkling gold even-armed crosses.  They point out the quarters: north-earth, south-fire, east-air, west-water.  This particular cross is a pagan representation of balance…..balance in nature and balance in life.  The harpist is playing Suo Gan, a haunting Welsh lullaby.  Peace…..

The candles are burning brightly.  Their light and warmth send forth healing to all gathered there.  I think of both Goddess and saint, Brigid of the Flame!  Brigid, Saint or Goddess, is an eternal being who, like the flame of life itself, keeps the our light shining and rekindles hope and inspiration.  And of course there are a host of others, Hestia, Vesta, Pele, Freyja, Agnayi, all associated with fire’s strength.

The choir is singing a “Christmas” song, The Holly and the Ivy.  Hummmm…. The holly and ivy are definitely Pagan fertility symbols.  Holly was sacred to druids who associated it with the winter solstice.  And there are stories of the Holly King who rules nature from the summer solstice to Yule. Ivy symbolizes vibrancy.  The druids admired its deep green hue. Sprigs of ivy would be woven into necklaces or chaplets to bring about clarity of thought as well as celebrate the vitality of nature.

The stained glass window behind the altar is back-lit.  The image of the dove, the Holy Spirit, hovers over all.  In Gnosticism the Holy Spirit is the "feminine" or female aspect of God so Gnostics see the Holy Spirit was the true "mother" of Jesus.  The dove is also the symbol of many Goddesses including my beloved Sophia!

Above the massive pipe organ I see a clover-shaped cutout. Three parts yet one leaf, a triskele of sorts, a trinity….Maiden, Mother, Crone.  And She is intently watching all that goes on here.

            The Mother aspect of the triune has many names, but tonight She is Mary, Maria, Virgin, Madonna, Blessed Mother.  The banner being carried by the acolytes is crimson red with an image of the Mother and baby on it.  The church is decorated with beautiful red poinsettias and the pine garlands are tied up with red bows.  The red wine is poured in to the chalice (yet another symbol for the Great Goddess, the Mother of the Universe).  She is here!
            Perspective, I begin to realize, is all that makes us different.  These folks, deep in prayer, are worshiping the tiny baby.  My focus is ever on the Mother.

Blessed Be!

v     “I am protected by your might, Blessed Mother, day and night.”

v      (freely adapted from a prayer by Scott Cunningham)

Who is My Sister?

            I’m sitting here watching the candles burning….dressed with special oils….energized with special intentions.  The flames dance sending prayers and requests upward with the smoke, out into the universe, to the Goddess.  “For my sisters and for me………”

            I remembered reading some research about intercessory prayer and healing.  1,000 heart patients were admitted to a Missouri hospital over a year period.  Half of these patients were prayed for daily by volunteers for 4 weeks.  The other half didn’t have “pray-ers” assigned to them.    None of the patients were aware of this study.  After 4 weeks it was noted that the prayed-for patients had 11% fewer complications.  That’s a small but statistically significant difference.  The medical community is finally figuring out something that spiritual people have known all along.

            “For my sisters and for me……”  I repeat this often.  But who are my sisters?  Well, I have no blood sisters, but I have my sisters in the Goddess.  These ladies are near and dear to my heart, although many of them I have never met.   Huhmm, my sisters??  I, of course, have my girl friends, some I’ve known forever, some newer friends. With some I share my deep, dark secrets, with some I share coffee and conversation.  I keep them in my prayers, yes, they’re my sisters. 

            I was reading an article about cultural differences and wound up praying for a young Afghani girl mentioned in the article.  “Aisha was the Afghani teenager who was forced into an abusive marriage with a Taliban fighter, who abused her and kept her with his animals. When she attempted to flee, her family caught her, hacked off her nose and ears, and left her for dead in the mountains. After crawling to her grandfather’s house, she was saved by a nearby American hospital.”  (http://www.thebestschools.org/bestschoolsblog/2011/12/03/wrong-culture-right-teacher's-surprising-discovery/)

Is this my sister?  Yes, she is!  Those women tortured and killed for being witches in Africa, are they my sisters?

            I want to cry whenever I hear girls or women putting down another woman.  I want to scream, “Don’t you get it?  If we want to survive in this world, if we want to gain power, we need to stick together; we need to support one another!”  How do we teach this to our daughters?  Society (dare I use the “p” word, patriarchy) sets us up to compete, not support, and encourages us to tear our sisters down rather than build them up. 

            We need to model respect and compassion.  We need to remember that the Earth is our mother so that makes us all sisters.  And we need to light those candles, send out positive energy, and we need to pray, “For my Sisters and for me……..”