COMMON BREAD
INTERFAITH DIALOG & CONTEMPLATIVE SPACE FOR THE EVERGREEN COMMUNITY
http://cbread.blogspot.com/2007/10/christian-contemplation-on-samhain.html
INTERFAITH DIALOG & CONTEMPLATIVE SPACE FOR THE EVERGREEN COMMUNITY
http://cbread.blogspot.com/2007/10/christian-contemplation-on-samhain.html
A blessing upon your home, A blessing upon your hearth, Upon your newly-kindled fire. A blessing upon your journey, Your going out and coming home. A blessing upon your face, and all who meet you. May He, for whom to love and to be are one, keep you in the way of his children! (Celtic Blessing) When I was a child, Halloween was my favorite holiday. I could never figure out why adults thought it was only for children. It wasn’t the costumes or the candy that intrigued me so much as the atmosphere of mystery and playfulness. Years later, I would encounter that same paradox in devotion to Radha-Krishna, Rumi’s poems, the crazy stories of Zen masters, the wise folly of Hassidic tales, and St. Francis, fool for Christ. Yet this profound secret – that creation springs from divine playfulness – was first revealed to me at Halloween. I loved the pranks of mischief night and the playful logic of trick or treat. Even more, I loved the contemplative silence after midnight, when I was too drunk on candy to sleep and the darkness seemed alive with spirit. Whether it was the Holy Spirit or the tingling of a trillion sprites, I knew not. It didn’t matter. I sensed a “cloud of witnesses” around me. I feasted on luminous darkness. "Cloud of witnesses" is the New Testament's evocative term for the abiding presence of the saints in our life. In more ancient cultures, they are called "the ancestors." Honoring them is a profoundly important aspect of Samhain, which is why the Church chose this Pagan New Year's festival for the Feast of All Souls (October 31) and the Feast of All Saints (November 1). Samhain is pronounced, saw'in. Samhain is the turning point, the threshold, where the veil between spirit and matter is thin as a wisp. We sense a world of souls around us. The Celts believed that, at this hour, spirits of the newly departed return to wish us farewell before commencing their journey. We can also sense the living consciousness of the plant and animal kingdoms as we celebrate this harvest of souls. We make offerings of remembrance on the alter of hearth and heart. If our ancestors were troubled, we unconsciously carry their troubles today. Therefor, we need to recover them with intentional love-offerings, lighting a candle for healing. If our ancestors were joyful, we carry their joy today. We celebrate that joy with a candle of thanksgiving. This we do at our Samhain feast. Too often in the Christian West, we spurn the veneration of ancestor as ignorant, primitive. Yet we pay our therapist $150 an hour to heal us of our ancestors' wounds. We carry them in every strand of DNA, every unconscious habit of behavior. Since they are primal forces in our unconscious, does it matter whether we call them the Ancestors or the Communion of Saints?
Samhain is a time for tricks and laughter, yet a time for deep contemplative silence. It is the bitter sweet celebration of Summer’s End, one derivation of the word, "samhain". Samhain is thanksgiving for harvest, sacrifice of the old and birth of the new. Samhain is maple leaf and pumpkin, apple and spider's web, little signs of the season transformed into mythic powers simply by offering them in the hearth of gratitude. The origin of the word “bonfire” is the "bone fire" of Samhain, where the weak and old of the flock were culled, so that the strong would survive the Winter. This sacrifice was offered, not with the heartless industry of modern agri-business, but in reverence for the continuity of life. The life we consume lives through us, as we live through those we serve. Today we may not sacrifice sheep and heifers, but we can still make a harvest alter or bonfire, offering prayers written on leaves to cast among the flames. Over the hills of Britain on the Eve of All Souls the bonfires blaze, as in the marvelous opening of Thomas Hardy’s Return of the Native. Citizens light brands from the village bonfire and take them home to kindle their own hearths. Those hearth-coals smolder through the coming year, each home nurtured by the original light of Samhain. It's the turning of the year from bright half to dark. For six months, angels and nature spirits have outwardly engaged in the business of greening, blossoming, and bearing fruit. Now the cycle turns from manifestation to silence, Summer's riot to Winter-space of contemplation. Energy sinks inward, leaf to seed. Matter itself is enlivened with a concentrated force as creation gently implodes. Stumps, crystals, soil itself, glow with an inward light. You cannot understand Samhain unless you hold all matter sacred. It's all about the Incarnation.... In this season, many of us experience a quickening of our inner life. Nature wanes stark, but consciousness ignites. In the Church's liturgical year, Advent begins, heralding Winter Solstice and Yule. The embryonic soul leaps inside the mother, matter. Christmas means birth of Christ, not just in a moment of historical time, but in the womb of nature. Jesus prayed that God's kingdom might manifest On earth as in heaven. In Celtic worship, the same law is expressed: As above so below. When fully present with us on earth, Christ is the Green Man. The veil between the worlds is thin:
Bright to dark the seasons turn.
Green Man's fire in Jack Lantern:
Light above shining within. Come dance in the circle of Samhain,
Buds of Beltane burnished in frost.
Honor the Old Ones: nothing is lost.
Whatever you offer is born again.
