The Den of Debauchery's Subannex

Yule is tomorrow at my place. Augh!

Much cleaning accomplished. Front room done, except for hearth. Kitchen well into it. Worst of the scungy stuff done. Oli took the rug out and beat it senseless. Or at least until the dust quit rising. Obi swept the front porch and walk so folks wouldn't track in the ankle deep leaves.

Yule shopping and crafting done. Rune set and tarot box ready for the gift exchange. 2 hooded scarves and 2 multi tools are together for personal gifts and one has been delivered. She loves it and it fits (always chancy).

Jonner got his birthday present from us, Fortune Street for the Wii. And a card from my Dad. Bun is baking him a cake in Nashville, since they're traveling tomorrow.

Turkey, sweet potatoes, green beans and stuffing, and an eggnog cheesecake on a gingerbread crust. Also spiced cider. All need making tomorrow. May bake some cookies tonight.

And "Make your own insulated cups" as a craft/party favor. Need something to drink the cider in.

Christmas shopping done. Everyone gets something in his or her stocking, except Mom, of course. But Mudd will probably come through with something, if only tickets to the Hobbit or Les Miz.

The days grow shorter as the Sun stays abed later and retires earlier every day. The dark Holly King sends cold blasts from the north, reveling in the darkness of Mother Night. And we shiver and count our pennies, and assess our stores to last through until summer, when there is food again.

In the midst of this comes Yule. On the Winter Solstice, the night is the longest it will be, and the day is less than eight hours long. But on this night, Mother gives birth to the new Sun, who will grow in strength and power and warm us once again. Many pagans will watch, all the long night through, to see the sun rise on the Solstice.

In technical terms, the Solstice occurs when the Sun reaches its southernmost declension of 23.5 degrees. That means the Earth’s axis is tilted exactly 23.5 degrees away from the Sun. He roams in the Tropic of Capricorn and leaves those of us up north to shiver. This year, it happens at 11:12(GMT) on December 21, which is 06:12 in New York City.

Yule is one of the eight great Sabbats on the pagan Wheel of the Year. Sabbats occur on the Solstices, the Equinoxes and on four Cross-Quarter days in-between. Some traditions believe the year ends on Samhain (Nov 1) and the new one does not begin until Yule. Many traditions celebrate it, usually in the same ways, with somewhat different myths attached to it.

Hellenic Reconstructionists often celebrate the Roman Saturnalia, or Sol Invictus. The former honors Saturn, the latter is the birth of the Unconquerable Sun. This was a time of feasting and revelry, with gifts given and a special market, along with conventional temple sacrifices and rituals. One of the features that is unique to this celebration is the role-reversal, where slaves would be allowed to gamble, to eat with and celebrate with their masters. This later found its way into the Feast of Fools/Lord of Misrule customs.

Yule itself comes from the Norse and Germanic peoples. Many of the customs associated with this time of year are from here. The feasting was a way to celebrate the returning light. The trees were decorated with tokens to ensure a good harvest, and in some towns they still go out and wake the orchards on Yule. As it became unsafe to do this openly, the decorated trees moved inside. Ornaments became cookies in place of cider soaked bread, or strings of berries instead of little boats holding bits of holy day meals. Evergreens symbolized hope of returning spring, and their boughs were also used in wreathes. Many would weave these on modranect, Mother’s Night, which corresponds to Christmas Eve. They would be made and imbued with wishes and blessings and protection for the families. Mother’s Night was marked into the 19th century, with the mother or grandmother of the house watching the night through and committing the children to the protection of Mother Mary. The Yule log, burned for the twelve nights of the holiday, is also from these parts, where it would be decorated with holly and inscribed with protective runes.

Celts celebrated Mean Geimredh, Mid-Winter. They welcome the rebirth of the Sun on this day when the Year-Wheel stops turning for an instant. It is a time of reflection, of looking backward at the year past, and forward to the new year. The Oak and Holly Kings, nature gods who fight for dominance at the Solstices may be honored as well. The Oak King wins the fight at Yule, and reigns for six months, causing the days to grow longer and the plants to grow. Their rituals are heavily influenced by Norse and Germanic rituals, from the many invasions, but from them, we get the Holly and Mistletoe. This was the time of year when Druid priests harvested it, to be used in medicine and ritual and fertility rites all year long. Holly was used to decorate doors and windows and keep out the evil spirits thought to walk abroad more during the cold winter nights.

So feast and light candles against the darkness. Welcome the returning light and take hope from the green that soon, all will be green again.

This is a repost from Reviews by Jessewave, originally published in 2010. Solstice times have been adjusted.

(art by walkerminion)

Hunting the wren
Oh where are you going, said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you said Festel to Fose
We´re off to the wood, said John the Red Nose
We´re off to the wood, said John the Red Nose

And what will you do, said Milder to Moulder
For we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
We´ll shoot the cutty wren, said John the Red Nose
We´ll shoot the cutty wren, said John the Red Nose

Oh how will you cut him up, said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
With knives and with forks , said John the Red Nose
With knives and with forks , said John the Red Nose

And who´ll get the spare ribs said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
We´ll give them all to the poor, said John the Red Nose
We´ll give them all to the poor, said John the Red Nose

Although this song is often associated with the Peasants Revolt of 1381, it is a relic of a much older ritual. The Wren is the Little King of the Waning Year. He is found hiding in a holly bush by Robin Redbreast, who kills him.

On Yule, the Mother has come fully pregnant. Her time is at hand and as the old Sun dies into the longest night, she births the new one. The Holly King, her lover, is not pleased by this reminder of his brother and rival, the Oak King.

Mother informs the Holly King it is time for him to go.
No king wants to lay down his crown, and he damnds to know why he must leave and who will make him. Life is beautiful. He loves the cold and frosty stars, the icy wind, the way the snow blankets the world.

Mother smiles and tell him all times change and if he does not step down for the child she carries, even he will die forever. Without the light of the Sun, there will be no growth, no plants, only ice and snow forever. Even his green leaves will shed and die. Everything comes and everything goes. And all that dies is reborn. But without the Sun there will be no rebirth.

She lays his hands on her belly and the Holly King feels the life within her. The warmth comes out even through her body and he melts, tears on his face like dripping icicles.

From out of the growing light of the East comes a young and handsome man. He steps to his aged brother and lays a warm hand beside his face. "It is time."

The Holly King nods, knowing that in time all things are reborn, even he. "I do this for the people, that they may have light and harvest again."

"We thank you for keeping the land safe during the time of Darkness." The Oak King draws forth a sickle and decapitates his brother.

Mother picks up the severed head of her lover and kisses it. "Go into the west. It is the Oak King's time. The wheel always turns."

She covers his body with a blanket of snow and steps into the dawning light of the newborn Sun with her lover, the Oak King.
~
In this, the darkest season of the year, we are hard pressed to remember things change, they always change. The warm days of summer seem far away. The garden is dead and brown. Even here, in the south, we picked the last tomatoes a month ago. The sun, on days he decides to come out, is pale and weak and far away. He lays abed long and retires early, and we want to do the same.

But now, he has been reborn. The days will grow longer. Night will come later and day will come earlier. We may not see immediate life and growth, but soon. In six weeks, early green shoot will start to appear. The trees will bud out, in ghostly haloes of yellow and red and orange and green.

The wheel always turns. Light goes but it always returns. Carry the light with you today and into the fading darkness.
~


The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown

The rising of the Sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry pipes
As we all sing with cheer.

The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood
The Goddess bears the Solstice Sun
To allow our hopes to bud

The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The Green Man and the Holly King
Are always welcome here.