Temporary Festival Shrines

Many of us live far away from any other Hellenic polytheist. Yet we still want to celebrate festivals, both for our own pleasure and that of the gods. Whether we are reconstructing a specific ancient Greek festival or trying to create a new one in the right spirit, we face the problem of what exactly to do, all by ourselves.

First, let me quickly go over some of the ritual acts that can be performed by a solitary worshipper: You can start with a bath or shower and put on fresh clothes. You can wear a wreath on your head of leaves or flowers. You can go through the basic sacrificial ritual - washing your hands in khernips, saying prayers and hymns, throwing barley, burning incense, making offerings and sacrifices. You might, depending on the festival, make a special dish to eat, go to the theatre, play a sport or game, or many other activities.

Even with all these things, though, I found myself looking for something more to do, something that would symbolize each individual festival and satisfy my sense of ritual and my obligations to the gods. What I have come upon, after some thought, is the practice of building small, temporary shrines for each festival. I did not invent this, but rather I noticed other Hellenic pagans doing it, and I have been doing it occasionally for festivals for years, without really pausing to consider why; it just felt right.

Analyzing the practice in context, it still makes sense to me. Ancient Greeks would go to a god's temple to celebrate that god's festival, but we do not currently have temples available. So why not create a small bit of "sacred space" which honors that god and gives them a place to inhabit for the duration of the festival, in much the same way as they were believed to inhabit their temples in ancient times. This shrine can also become the focal point for the ritual, the place to set up offerings and pour libations.

Creating the shrine is also a devotional act in itself. Carefully choosing which objects will be part of it causes you to really think about the god in question and all of his or her attributes, as well as the reason for the festival. For instance, on the Oskhophoria - which celebrates the vine harvest and Dionysos - the shrine could include grapes, a bottle of wine, a statue or mask of Dionysos if you have one, silk ivy or grape leaf garlands (which are readily available at every craft store), a glass or bowl in which to pour libations to Dionysos, as well as the items needed for basic Hellenic ritual (purified water, barley, etc). It can be as simple or ornate as you wish. You don't even have to have a space specially set aside for such a shrine - a small folding tray table can be covered with a cloth and erected anywhere for that one day, or even only for a couple of hours while you celebrate the festival.

You may wish to leave the temporary shrine in place for at least a few days, to remind you of the festival and the god(s) involved. But make sure that you respectfully dismantle it before the next festival (at the very latest), and in the meantime clear away any perishable items such as food offerings so that the shrine remains clean and fresh.

Creating Effective Ritual

There are many articles about how to carry out basic Hellenic polytheist ritual: the procession, khernips, barley, sacrifice, etc. Most of us are becoming familiar with the exoteric aspects of our religion and its rituals. But are these elements the only things necessary for good ritual? And what is good ritual, exactly?

First one must identify the purpose of ritual. Ritual is how we communicate, not only with the divine, but in our other interactions as well - "by ritualizing we make contact with animals, foreigners and gods." (Driver, 15) Only, with the gods we must first figure out how to dwell in the same space together, before communication can occur. Therefore in a spiritual context, ritual provides the means to do these things, as well as the substance of the communication itself (e.g. asking, giving, praising, etc.).

So good ritual needs to bring a person closer to the gods. Which means that it must take into account certain psychological and even physiological factors involved in being human. Even those of us who are deeply spiritual people cannot simply flip a switch in our minds and be in the right mental and emotional state to perceive the gods. A ritual therefore must be structured in a way that helps us move from our normal state of mind to what is generally called an altered state of consciousness. This doesn't necessarily mean we must attain a full trance state or anything of the sort - but ideally our awareness of the spiritual world should be enhanced. Effective ritual "not only presents the invisible but also offers conditions that make the perception possible." (Shorter, 108)

A certain type of atmosphere is therefore required for a ritual to reach full power. This is in some ways superficial - it may for instance include darkness, candles, music, incense, special clothes, etc. - but the point is that it signifies to the people involved that this is not ordinary experience, this is something special, removed from the mundane worries, joys, and cares of the everyday. Now, of course it is possible to put too much emphasis on this atmosphere and create a ritual-ish feel without any real substance. So along with everything I say, one must not forget that the gods are at the heart of this, and these things are done only to facilitate a meeting with them.

"[Mircea Eliade] called sacramental rituals….'doors to the sacred'. Every sacramental ritual, he said, is an invitation to a religious or sacred experience. An invitation, which you may accept or not." (Nichols) I believe it is not only we who must accept or decline this invitation, but the gods as well. Our hope, of course, is that the gods will attend our rituals, accept our thanks, grant our prayers for assistance, and in general just grace us with their presence. Here are a few things that, in my opinion and experience, make a ritual more effective towards that end.

• Holy silence. "Koimeson stoma" is the Greek call for silence at the beginning of the sacrificial rite. There's a good reason for this even today, especially in large groups. Having people chit chatting right before and even during a ritual is distracting and often ruins the devotional atmosphere. There should be a short period of time between setup and actual start of the ritual for everyone to stop talking and get ready both mentally and spiritually for what's about to happen.
• Preparation. In addition to the period of silence, there should be other preparations made stretching back as much as 24 hours before the ritual, depending on how important it is. For instance, fasting for even half a day beforehand will cleanse the body and clear the mind. Bathing (and dressing in clean clothes) just before the ritual is appropriate both for purification and to indicate the formality of the event. At least an hour before you even begin the setup for the ritual, turn off the tv, radio or computer and turn your mind to religious things. Perhaps read some of the hymns to yourself, or think about your last experience with the god in question. One should also endeavor to keep one's mind lightly on the subject of the ritual all day long, from the time one wakes up. These things will mentally and physically prepare you to truly focus within the ritual itself.
• Sensory triggers. Using the same lighting, music, incense, etc. each time you do ritual creates patterns that your subconscious will begin to recognize quickly, making the entrance into altered states easier with each recurrence.
• Repetition of acts/words. The word ritual usually implies repetition; a ritual done often should use the same set of acts/words, at least to an extent, to build up associations. So that eventually, all you have to do is X and you're in the right ritual state of mind instantly. Rituals should make internal sense, and follow a basic form each time. "Like language, rituals have a certain grammar, a certain syntax that it needs [sic] to follow, a certain order." (Nichols) Repetition within the ritual itself is good too (such as a simple chant, call-and-answer, etc.).
• Spontaneity. Repetition does not preclude spontaneity. There should be room for both tradition and for personal experience of the divine, which is naturally going to change somewhat each time. One should be able to add to or even change the ritual if it seems appropriate at the time, within reason (i.e. without compromising the goal or meaning of the ritual).
• Emotional poignancy. "In many rituals strong emotions are engendered and consciousness altered. Not infrequently there is a feeling of 'loss of self'….and a feeling of union with the other members of the congregation and even more embracing entities." (Driver, 152) We are human beings and we relate to things emotionally as well as intellectually, spiritually, etc. Ritual has the power to bring joy, sorrow, fear, hope, and to entirely transform a person's heart. Add elements that have emotional resonance with you personally, or with your group, and encourage an emotional response to the gods' presence.
• Familiarity. While respect should always be maintained, a certain level of informality may be appropriate when doing ritual for gods you are on close terms with. For instance, having a meal to which the god is invited, and conversing with him/her in a casual manner (even if it concerns very serious topics) can enhance one's feeling of intimacy with the god.
• Comprehension of participants. Everyone should know what's going to happen, and why, beforehand. Explanations should not be part of the ritual itself; the meanings of words and actions can be discussed before and even after, but not during. Again, this detracts from the focus and makes it more of a performance than a ritual. Which leads me to…
• No spectators. Everyone should be involved - even if it's just throwing a handful of barley, repeating a prayer, everyone should have some way of participating.
• No scripts - with the possible exception of reading long passages that would be very difficult to memorize. Again, this is not a play, it is a sacred act. How can you be fully in the moment of contact with the divine if you're looking down at the paper in your hand every two seconds? If this means that the ritual is simplified more so that everyone can remember what they need to do and say, so be it. Personally, I think many things can be spoken extemporaneously anyway, and there is rarely need for fancy words (outside of the hymns, of course).
• Simplicity. Oh, there are times for the big pageantry of complex ritual, but for most things simple works best - less room for mistakes, more mental space to actually pay attention to the gods instead of the ritual itself. Brings into focus the real purpose of the ritual.

I truly believe that paying attention to these points will greatly increase the likelihood that the participants of any ritual will reach that state of "ritual consciousness" necessary for a real experience of the divine. Which will then make their offerings, prayers and all other communication that much more powerful and meaningful. And thus we take one more step towards a strong bond of kharis between ourselves and the gods.

Recommended Reading
Bell, Catherine. Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997.
Driver, Tom. Liberating Rites: Understanding the Transformative Power of Ritual. Boulder: Westview Press, 1998.
Eliade, Mircea. Rites and Symbols of Initiation. Woodstock, CT: Spring Publications, 1995.
Nichols, Mike. The Finer Points of Ritual (facilitated discussion): http://www.ecauldron.com/finerpoints.php
Shorter, Bani. Susceptible to the Sacred: The Psychological Experience of Ritual. London: Routledge, 1996.
Van Gennep, Arnold. The Rites of Passage. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1960.

A Personalized Festival Calendar

After years of experimenting and researching and ritualizing, I have finally decided to set down a festival calendar for myself. Of course, I've been celebrating festivals up until now, but it was a somewhat haphazard process. I tried to follow the ancient Athenian calendar, but felt uninterested in many of the festivals, or some were timed completely wrong for the climate where I live. I performed some rituals with my [now ex] partner, which were a blend of Hellenismos and Asatru, but didn't always know how to reconcile that with my strictly Hellenic practice. There were gods I wanted to do ritual for that had no extant festivals. And on top of all of that, I have a very personal spiritual life which includes a few guardian spirits, and I wanted to include them as well. So I am now at a point where I feel that I know enough about the ancient tradition to take it a step further and make a festival calendar relevant to my own life. I hope that discussing my process as an example will help other people who are interested in doing this for themselves.

I wanted to keep to the basic framework of the ancient calendar, so most of the dates are reckoned by the lunar system rather than our modern solar one, even those festivals that I have newly created. The exceptions to that rule are mostly for anniversaries of events that happened to me personally, and therefore fell on the modern calendar. I kept the names of the months as we know them from ancient Athens, but I occasionally moved a festival to make it relevant to the seasons around me.

First, I set down a pattern of monthly observances. In ancient Greece, certain days of the month were always set aside for certain gods (the days being counted from the first visible crescent after the dark moon). Following this tradition, I created some of my own holy days for the gods I worship most. So I kept the 4th for Hermes and the 7th for Apollon, and then I added the 9th for Dionysos (in this case because I found a reference to a Dionysian group in ancient times meeting on the ninth of each month). I decided upon the 27th for the nymphs, loosely based on a sacrifice from Erchia. I kept the 2nd for the agathos daimon, since that is how I relate to my primary spirit companion. I also added the 5th for my other spirit, partly because it was the fifth of a month when I first met him. I tried to make each innovation have at least some meaning behind it so it wasn't completely random.

I cannot possibly list all the festivals in my new personalized calendar here, because there are about forty-five of them. It's not necessary to have so many, but I love a good ritual, and this seemed like a reasonable amount to me. Enough to keep me busy, without being overwhelming. Enough to honor all the gods I hold most dear, in their many aspects, to note the changing of seasons, to commemorate important events in my spiritual life, etc. Anyway, I will choose several to discuss here that should give an idea of what the overall calendar is like.

I'll begin with the winter solstice, since that is coming up soon. For a few years now, I have celebrated this holiday with a combination of Norse Yule traditions and elements from the Rural Dionysia, which go well together. I am now adding another (rather obscure) Dionysian festival to the day, called Turbe. We have no date for Turbe and all we know about it is that sacrifices were offered to Dionysos and Pan, and it had an ecstatic character. This seems to fit in well with the rest, and I figured that an offering of pine boughs (like the ubiquitous Christmas wreaths) would be appropriate for both gods.

Since I am foremost a maenad, many of my festivals are for Dionysos. Some are ancient, and some are from the collection of new festivals created by the Thiasos Dionysos in the past year. I've made my own modifications to both of these to make them entirely mine. So for instance, I'll be celebrating the ancient Oskhophoria, but moving it up a little so that it corresponds with the actual time of the grape harvest in my area. And I'm celebrating the new Meilikhia (feast of gentleness) but moving it to a warmer time of year to correspond with the atmosphere of the festival.

I had to create all the festivals for Hermes from scratch, since he is only mentioned once in the Athenian calendar, within the Dionysian festival of the Anthesteria. I created three days for Hermes scattered throughout the autumn and winter (on the fourth of various months), celebrating my favorite aspects of his: Enodios (on the road), Eriounios (luck bringer) and Psukhopompos (guide of the dead). I also created a couple of festivals for Apollon, in addition to his Athenian ones, that focus on his oracular role, since that is something I am involved in. I set one of them on the day that oracles traditionally began to be given each year at Delphi, and the other on the anniversary of the date on which I was initiated into his Mysteries, a couple of years ago. That way I have ties to both the past and my own personal history and experience.

Some of the new festivals are entirely personal. For instance, I am going to mark certain transformative spiritual experiences I've had in the past, and the initial meeting of my personal spirits, by doing rituals on the anniversaries of those dates. Others are actually ancient festivals with no known date, so I am combining them with other holidays, especially ones I celebrate with my partner. So, for instance, the Thalusia of Demeter and Dionysos will be held during my autumn equinox ritual. I have also incorporated a few festivals with pagan roots but entirely modern expressions - Mardi Gras becomes a Dionysian revel (of course) and Halloween becomes a day of the dead not unlike the day of Khutroi during the Anthesteria.

Finding activities to do during all of these festivals isn't very hard. In some cases, we even know what was done in ancient times. But when that's not an option, it just takes a little creativity to match the ritual to the spirit of the festival. For the Meilikhia, for instance, I do things that express the soothing aspect of Dionysos' nature - listen to beautiful music, eat grapes and figs, drink wine slowly throughout the day, have a long bath, etc. For the Hermaia Eriounia, I will celebrate Hermes' luck-bringing traits by doing a little gambling and praying for good luck in general. On the festivals for the nymphs (I've created four, each focusing on one group) I will go to the appropriate areas nearest my house and build and tend shrines for them. This is all, of course, in addition to the traditional prayers, sacrifices, etc.

I'll be trying out this new calendar for 2005 and then I'll be able to tweak it as needed - add, subtract or change things, find out what really works and what needs improvement. To me, this is Hellenismos at its best - a religious practice that has deep roots but can accommodate innovation. I see a time in the future where we will all have either individual or small group festival calendars, with common traits as well as many differences, meaningful to each of us. That is, after all, the way it really was in ancient Greece, and it makes even more sense today when we all live so spread out. And having myriad ways to worship and celebrate the gods can only be a good thing!

The Agathos Daimon

What I would really like to see in Hellenismos as we grow and develop is a greater focus on personalizing our religion. Building on a strong foundation of Reconstructionism, I think Hellenismos can become relevant to each of us individually, present in our everyday lives, and can inspire passionate bonds with divinities. On that last note, I'd like to discuss the convention of the Agathos Daimon, and what it can mean for our personal spiritual lives.

"Agathos daimon" (also called agathodaimon) translates roughly as "good spirit." It is part of an ancient Greek belief in daimones - a word with many definitions - usually referring to a type of spiritual being a little less powerful and wide-reaching than a god. Over the years, it gained an entirely negative connotation (later morphing into our word demon), but it was originally a more neutral term. The Agathos Daimon is a spirit of fortune and good luck. It can belong to and protect an entire household, and as such it receives libations of (usually unmixed) wine after meals. It can sometimes be seen around the house in the form of a snake.

Originally an androgynous being, in Hellenistic times the Agathos Daimon became decidedly male, and was even said to be the consort of Agathe Tyche, the goddess of fortune. It was portrayed as a young man holding a cornucopia. Yet it still retained its serpentine form, for when a huge snake appeared to Alexander at the future site of Alexandria and then was killed, he erected a hero shrine for it as the Agathos Daimon.

However, the tradition seems to exist more on an individual level than those rites of the gods or even heroes. There were no large festivals for this spirit, no hymns that I know of. In Boeotia, the opening of new wine jars was dedicated to the Agathos Daimon, but that is the only reference to it in the realm of public festival. While the second day of each month was set aside for worship of the Agathos Daimon, in the ancient Athenian calendar, it seems that was a more private affair, the actions of a household or individual rather than a community.

One could almost call the Agathos Daimon a sort of guardian angel, sent to a person at birth to protect and guide him or her throughout life. It also affects an individual's luck. Socrates said that his told him when to stop or keep quiet. It was thought that one needed to appease one's Agathos Daimon so that it would respond favorably. Pindar writes, "The daimon active about me I will always consciously put to rights with me by cultivating him according to my means."

The daimones stand between gods and men, they are as Plato said the "interpreters and ferrymen". Much in the way Vodounists believe in the Christian God but prefer to have interactions with the loa, the daimones are in some ways closer, more accessible than the gods. A relationship with a daimon (including spirits like the nymphs) can be very personal and intimate. It is also a bridge to relationships with the gods. As Pindar said, "The great mind of Zeus steers the daimon of the men whom he loves."

The Agathos Daimon is part of a widespread history of personal spirits in polytheistic religions around the world. The Romans called it a Genius, and in Slavic folklore it was a Dola (a personal fate and protective spirit). It is very similar to the fylgja of Norse tradition. And in shamanistic religions, personal relationships with spirits play a crucial role. And yet, most of us who are reconstructing ancient pagan religions largely ignore daimones in general, and few acknowledge their own Agathos Daimon. I think adopting this ancient tradition will add something to our religion. I think it will encourage the possibility of intimate spiritual relationships with divine entities. I think it will even bring us closer to the gods. I also see it as an opportunity to integrate our practice with the world in which we live. The actual spirit who belongs to you (and to whom you belong) will probably be tied to your family, or the land around you, and relating to it in the context of Greek religious practice brings our religion fully into the present time and place.

I have been interacting with a personal spirit for years now, but only recently understood how to fit that relationship into the context of Hellenismos, by viewing him as my Agathos Daimon. Now I have been saving out the second day of the month for him, leaving him libations, and relating to him as my luck, my fortune, my guardian angel. It has enriched my relationship with my Daimon, as well as my religious life as a whole. It has allowed me an invaluable spirit teacher, guide, protector, and even lover. Yes, I think that the tradition of Agathos Daimon even encompasses a romantic and sexual way of relating to the spirit. After all, we see that in the devotion of certain nympholepts, the feelings of some worshippers towards their patrons, and the relations of other pagans to similar spirits such as fylgja. My Agathos Daimon is such an important part of my life, and I would love to see more people seek out this kind of spiritual bond within the practice of Hellenismos.

On Being a Neokoros

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a neokoros. The word is derived from the Greek naos (temple) and koreo (to sweep), and therefore literally means "temple-sweeper" or more generally "temple keeper." A neokoros was essential to the functionality of a temple, even though he/she occupied a modest position. The duties of a neokoros included not only assuring the cleanliness of the temple and temenos, but also handling the offerings made by supplicants and other daily activity associated with the cult of the god or goddess. A neokoros served the god of the temple in a real and practical manner every day.

So how can this apply to our lives today, when we do not yet have temples for the gods? Well, those of us who feel called to service need to look for alternatives. The most obvious, but most difficult route would be to build a temple or at least large shrine yourself, open it to other worshippers, and tend to it. On a local level, this is already beginning to happen, usually by people opening the shrine rooms in their homes to the public at certain times. But it is not the only way to be a neokoros. Even if you cannot or do not wish to make public your own shrine, it is still a service to the gods to be the keeper of that shrine.

What might the job of neokoros entail today? Creating the shrine in the first place, for one thing. While typically in ancient times temples were dedicated to only one deity, in these times of fewer temenoi and fewer worshippers altogether, it seems acceptable to build a sacred place for more than one god at a time, so long as they are compatible. On the other hand, there is something to be said for focusing on one god, at least in the role of neokoros. It would at least be simpler to start with one god, their festivals and holy days, their sacred objects, etc., before trying to juggle a bunch of them.

Once the shrine is made, whether it be on top of an end table or the size of a building, it needs to be tended to constantly. There are always offerings to be made, and then cleared away. There is general cleaning, dusting, washing, etc. to be done in order to keep the temenos and the cult items within it pure. There is restocking as supplies such as candles, barley, and libation liquids are used up. Even with a small shrine, this can keep you fairly busy, especially if you begin to create your own holy days for the god involved, start your own traditions, etc. While these activities may seem mundane or just a hassle, I think they can actually be deeply fulfilling. Religion isn't only about the fireworks we sometimes experience in contact with the gods, it isn't only about putting on a wreath and feasting at the festivals. It's about living with the gods all the time, every day. And this is one way to be a part of that, and to show your devotion to the gods.

In addition, one might interpret the concept of neokoros more broadly, and think of it as dedicating oneself to the service of the gods, in whatever form that might take. It might be building a website (even a virtual shrine) to talk about your experience of the gods, or your thoughts about worshipping them. It might be working to form a local demos or thiasos, or hosting a festival. Personally, I consider my work on this newsletter a service to the gods, as it encourages us to think about the them, and hopefully may introduce new people to our religion. The idea is to figure out where your talents and passions lie, and start there. It can be entirely personal, but I also think there is something special about working for and with the community (locally or worldwide), where our actions may have a more widespread effect.

The gods give us many blessings. Taking on the joy and responsibility of committed service to one or more of them acknowledges their gifts and seeks to give something back to them. And that is what I will be working towards, in whatever ways I can find, as I constantly strive to be a worthy neokoros.

Household Gods

We read a lot about the grand public festivals of ancient Greece, but of the private household cult much less is known. Indeed, there is less primary source information available on this aspect of the religion, in part because it was not as flashy, and also because it would have been almost second nature, not something one thinks of writing about. However, those daily practices centered in and around the house were essential to Hellenic religion, and should be remembered and revived by us today.

First and foremost is Hestia. She was less anthropomorphized than the rest of the Greek gods, rather she is the hearth itself. In an ancient house, the hearth occupied a central place, and was the focus of virtually all private sacrifices and offerings. Meals were eaten around the hearth, and at the beginning of any meal a portion would be dropped in the fire for Hestia. She was also the first to receive a piece of a sacrifice made in the home. There is evidence that this led to Hestia being recognized first in larger public sacrifices as well. Any new member of the family was first brought to the hearth, people even swore oaths on the hearth.

Of course, modern homes rarely have a fireplace; we certainly do not tend to use them for daily cooking. Hellenic pagans have come up with a variety of solutions to this. Some consider their kitchen stove to be their hearth, especially if it is gas powered and therefore has a flame. In this case, a piece of the meal might be put into the oven or burned atop the stove. Others opt to have a candle lit for Hestia, a sort of "eternal flame" (although it is unsafe to leave it burning while asleep or away). Personally, I have a candle, which is set on the windowsill of my kitchen, near to the stove.

After meals, a few drops of unmixed wine would be poured out onto the floor for the Agathos Daimon, the good spirit, often perceived as a snake. While we no longer have earthen floors to absorb libations, we can still pour out this drink into a small dish, and periodically dispose of the offerings outside on the ground.

The storeroom, or pantry, was protected by Zeus Ktesios (acquirer). In fact, many of Zeus' lesser-known aspects are involved in the household cult. A jar or amphora was dedicated to Zeus Ktesios and placed in the storeroom; it was filled with fresh water, oil, and various fruits (a panspermia type of offering) and the handles were decorated with wool fillets. This Zeus, like the Agathos Daimon, often takes the form of a snake. In fact, not only is the belief in a snake house-spirit prevalent across European paganism, it could even still be found in rural areas of Greece well into the last century. The jar for Zeus Ktesios is a fairly simple offering to assemble, and can be placed in modern pantries or just on the shelves you use for foodstuffs.

The rest of the household religion could be found immediately outside the doors. Here again we find Zeus; an altar to Zeus Herkeios (fence) stood in the courtyard and received sacrifices and libations. Some houses also erected an altar to Zeus Kataibates (who descends) in front of their houses to protect them from lightning strikes.

Further, where the courtyard met the street, might stand a high, conical stone in honor of Apollon Aguieos (of the street). Oil was poured on it, and it was decorated with fillets; it stood to protect the house against harm.

In front of the house one might also find Hermes Propylaios in the shape of a pillar, or a triple image of Hekate. Prayers would be made to these for protection and to avert evil.

Aside from replicating these altars and stones exactly, which many of us cannot do, there are ways to carry on these traditions even in an apartment. An image of one or all of these protecting gods could be hung on the front door (inside, if outside is not possible), or perhaps a pile of stones placed by the front step where one could pour libations and such. Considering what a large part of the average person's religious life these small rituals would have occupied in ancient Greece, it seems only proper that we continue to perform them today, if slightly modified. And it is always a good idea to incur the good-will of the gods when it comes to your family and home!

*******

FMI see Nilsson, Greek Folk Religion, chapter "The House and the Family"

The Ancestors and Heroes

Like most polytheistic cultures, the ancient Greeks had rituals for honoring their ancestors. A family member who had died was still important, and deserved attention. These practices are beginning to grow again in modern polytheism, so it seems fitting to explore how the ancients paid cult to their ancestors, and how we might do so today. Since many things have changed (funeral customs, the religions of our relatives), we must adapt without simply forgetting those who have come before us.

In ancient Greece, after the funerary rites (complex and often expensive ceremonies that took many days) were over, the deceased relative began to be treated in much the same way as other chthonic beings. Food offerings and libations were left at the gravesite, not only at the time of interment, but on certain prescribed days afterwards: the third, ninth and sometimes thirtieth days after the funeral, the deceased's birthday, the anniversary of the person's death, and certain state festivals. The oldest son of the family was the most obligated to pay respect to the ancestor, but everyone could be involved. In addition to food and drink left on the ground, ribbons and flowers might be left by the tomb. Tending to the cult of one's ancestors was primarily a domestic affair, but on the fifth of Boedromion (this year falling on September 19th), Athens celebrated the Genesia, a state holiday paying tribute to everyone's ancestors, and especially to those who had died in wars.

Ancestors were believed to give fertility of all kinds, and were often sacrificed to and prayed to for good crops and fertile wombs. However, the dead were also feared, and people would pass by graves silently, so as to avoid attracting the attention of the soul within. This custom, as well as the prevalence of rites performed at the graves themselves, shows that many people believed at least some aspect of the psyche remained in the grave site. When a person died away from home, their soul had to be called back somehow to an empty grave called a cenotaph, where the person was represented by a stone. Cenotaphs were tended by relatives in the same manner as real graves.

If you have deceased relatives who are buried nearby, of course the easiest way to continue these traditions would be to visit their graves at certain times and leave offerings. However, for those of us living further away, it seems appropriate to erect a small shrine in their honor, similar to the idea of a cenotaph, which can be the focus of our rituals. My shrine for my ancestors is simple, and centers around a collection of photographs on display - my grandfather, my aunt, and group pictures from very long ago of some of my more distant relatives who have all passed on. I have an offering dish, and an object that reminds me very much of my grandfather. There I can leave offerings on formal holidays such as the Genesia, as well as personal days like their birthdays.

I also sometimes go to the local cemetery and leave some libations to all the dead buried there. While I do not know of a precedent for this in ancient Greek custom (except for the Genesia, at which all the city's dead were honored), it seems appropriate to me to establish ties with the area I live in by honoring those who have lived here before, whose spirits (in some people's opinions) would at least partially be linked to this part of the earth. Similar to the way I honor the nymphs of this particular land around me, instead of only the Greek nymphs or the nymphs of my birthplace.

Which brings me to the topic of the heroes. In ancient times, the heroes were men (and sometimes women too) who had been (or were believed to have been) actual living people, worshipped after death as semi-divine. The cult of heroes was directly tied to their tombs (although sometimes many places would boast the tomb of the same hero), and their worship was closer to that of the dead than of the gods. They were offered the same types of foods and libations, and their shrines were passed in silence. A hero did not have to be of divine parentage, but was often honored for some exceptional quality or feat. However, there were few "pan-Hellenic" heroes; mostly this was a local phenomenon, each area having its own heroes. Therefore, when attempting to revive the worship of heroes in modern times, it seems less authentic to turn immediately to ancient Greek heroes, instead of identifying the heroes of our own culture and specific area.

For instance, here in Montana, the most important, most often talked about local heroes are Lewis and Clark. Things are named after them, plays written about them, children are taught their histories. They are definitely the heroes of this place, much more relevant to me than, say, Theseus. Such modern heroes are often the subjects of folk songs and ballads (think: the Iliad), and are to some degree mythologized even when they began as real people - much in the way, I think, that some ancient heroes were. There are sometimes even local variants of these new hero legends, as there were in ancient times.

So how do we now pay cult to our local heroes? We can leave offerings at their graves (when possible) or at places associated with them. We can, as in ancient times, hold feasts in their honor. We can set aside a special day each year for them, or modify an existing civic holiday in their honor. We are not even committing much of an innovation in this, since as Walter Burkert states, "Great gods are no longer born, but new heroes can always be raised up from the army of the dead whenever a family, cult association, or city passes an appropriate resolution to accord heroic honours." (Greek Religion, p. 206) Thus, recognizing new heroes and paying them cult is actually entirely within the structure of ancient Greek religion. And it is yet another way to bring the religion of the past fully into the present.

Encountering the Gods

“Olympians adopt all manner of incognitos for their appearances before Homeric heroes, sometimes cloaking themselves in a fog, sometimes assuming the likeness of a mortal familiar to the character whom they visit, sometimes transforming themselves into the birds that descend effortlessly from their lofty perches.”

-Debora Tam Steiner, Images in Mind

Over the years, I have heard Hellenic polytheists lament many times their distance from the gods. I have heard them remark that perhaps long ago the gods walked amongst us, but that now we must experience them on a purely spiritual level. And I have seen the same people dismiss what I would consider amazing encounters with comments about “coincidence” and “synchronicity” and perhaps “signs.” But I wonder if perhaps we aren’t missing something very powerful that is right in front of us.

When picturing the stories from mythology in our heads, I think many of us tend to see them with Hollywood-type glamour and special effects. There is Zeus, magically morphing into a shower of gold to rain upon Danae. Or Aphrodite, approaching Anchises as a mortal woman but with her beautiful robe practically glowing, revealing her true self. Or Apollon, leading his priests to Delphi in the form of a dolphin. These things belong to the realm of mythology, not our modern reality. If they ever did happen, they certainly don’t happen now.

But what if we take a different view? What if the people who lived those stories experienced them in a much more natural and tangible way than we have imagined – perhaps not as ordinary events, but not supernatural either? What if, what we would see as an amazing but purely physical event – say, coming upon a deer in the woods, who then looks into your eyes for several moments before running away – they would have seen as meeting Artemis in the woods, looking right into her eyes.

Take the previous example of Apollon – instead of the god miraculously changing from an anthropomorphic physical form into that of a dolphin, and then leading the Cretan priests to land, what if a dolphin simply appeared at the side of their boat (as is not uncommon, the same thing happened to a friend of mine in the waters near Delphi), but they knew it to be Apollon and followed it because they were smart enough to follow a god? What if they didn’t need to see the recognizable god actually change into the dolphin, to understand (through experience, through faith, through gut instinct) that the dolphin was nonetheless the god himself?

I mentioned that this happened to a friend – she was vacationing in Greece, took a boat ride to the bay near Delphi, and as she approached that sacred place, a dolphin appeared alongside the boat as if it were guiding her there. She certainly noted that this was a special occurrence, and that it might even be a “sign” (from the gods, or the universe, I’m not sure of her precise spiritual beliefs), but she never entertained the notion that it could be something even greater. And I doubt that many of us would – it seems hubristic or even crazy to believe that a god could be present in such a physical, real form, especially in order to communicate with us. But I think we might be missing out on something by dismissing the possibility.

“Odysseus, one of the few heroes who succeeds in making his tutelary goddess reveal herself, knows that he stands as exception to the common rule: ‘It is difficult for a mortal encountering you to recognize you, goddess,’ he remarks to Athena, ‘for you are able to liken yourself to everything.’”(Steiner)

I first had this idea many years ago while reading the beginning of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Firebrand. She re-imagines the story of Leda and Zeus – instead of a swan, Zeus comes to Leda in the body of her husband. She sees Tyndareus walking to her as lightning sparks in the sky above, and she knows that she is looking at Zeus, that he has essentially possessed Tyndareus and is using that form to make contact with her. Through that physical incarnation (and yet, not some unbelievable manifestation out of thin air, but simply the temporary possession of an already physical form), he is even able to impregnate her. I believe that this type of experience is how many of the encounters between mortals and gods took place, how they appeared to the people involved, and how they can still happen today.

I know that many people believe that the gods send omens and signs, and I do too. I know that sometimes, when a hawk appears at a poignant moment, that hawk is a sign from Hermes, sending me a message. What I am suggesting here is that sometimes, the hawk might be Hermes himself in hawk form, come for some purpose for which a messenger wouldn’t suffice. This might even seem like a subtle difference, but I think it is important. Because it opens up the possibility that the gods are indeed speaking to us, even coming to us, actually, immanently, right now. That it is not only mystics who have direct experiences with the gods, but perhaps merely only them who recognize those experiences as such. And also that we might be praying for our gods to appear before us, and then turning a blind eye to them when they do.

So, if all this is true (and that is a matter of faith, and one that each person must decide for themselves), how do we take off the blinders? Well, for one thing, the next time you pray and receive something you see as a “sign,” take a closer look. Test the experience (I once had a crow follow me for quite a ways, stopping and starting again when I did, after I asked it to show me if it was more than just a crow). Especially if the thing in question directly approaches you in some way, or is doing something totally out of the ordinary. If you pray to Hermes and encounter a homeless man just afterwards, it may be a sign. If that man tells you something he should not have known, appears to know you, and gives you pertinent advice, he may not be just a man (this happened to another friend of mine).

Of course, sometimes a crow is just a crow. And yes, there is a danger here of losing touch with reality, seeing gods everywhere even when there are none, believing everything is directed at you. There are methods to counteract this – share your experience with a trusted friend and get their objective opinion; confirm or deny it through divination or look for a follow-up omen; consult a seer (we do have a few even now); review your dreams afterwards; keep a healthy dose of humor and skepticism within you at all times; etc. But I think it is still worth a deeper look, despite the risks. Because just consider the possibility that the gods are right in front of us, and we don’t even recognize them! That the kinds of things that happen between gods and mortals in the myths could happen now, to us, if we open ourselves up to the experience!

Let’s stop waiting for the gods to appear out of nowhere in a sparkly cloud and speak in a booming voice to us from on high. Instead, let’s start looking for them in the real world around us, and listen for their voices in the songs of birds, the words of strangers, even the music on the radio.