Here on the eastern seaboard of the U.S., summer is winding down. We’re roughly halfway between Lughnasadh and Mabon and I find myself thinking about the male aspect of the Divine.
While we haven’t had as rough a time of it as some parts of the U.S., it has been hot here. Up until this week, it was still hot – too hot for me and what’s left of my vegetable garden. July temps seemed never to stray out of the 90s. Cooling rains were few and far between. August continued the trend without mercy.
Still, the other morning on a walk around the yard at mid-morning, I couldn’t help but reflect on the quality of the heat that greeted me. It was sweltering, no doubt. But every now and then I felt a wisp of cooler air. Maybe it was coming from the nearby woods. Maybe it was just my imagination. But there definitely seemed to be a difference in the intensity of the heat.
I got me to thinking about the way Pagans within the Wiccan and European-influenced traditions view Father God. You may call him Lugh or Odin or Jupiter or any other name that is comfortable. But if he is a sky god, you know that as the year wanes, so does his power.
Just like the blazing heat at the first of summer, Father God comes on strong at Litha. We feel that he could just as easily burn us and the entire world to a crisp as saturate our world with life-giving light. He is bright and bold and takes no guff from anyone or anything. Surely, no energy can keep such fires radiating so hot for long.
And, just so, after about six weeks, the energy begins to ebb. In my tradition, we are taught that Father God matures into his role as leader and patriarch at this time. No longer the brash young stud, he measures his reserves with an eye to a dwindling supply. This is the season of the first hint of sadness at the coming dark. Leaves on certain trees are signaling the upcoming color change. The ground crackles, drained of nutrients because it has given so much up to this point. At certain times and in certain light, the entire landscape just looks tired.
I wonder if this is how our ancestors viewed the coming fall. In watching the world around them going through yet another cycle, is this how they came to understand Father God? Does Father God feel sorrow, knowing that soon he will retire to the Underworld? Or does he feel a sense of dignified acceptance? This is the way of the world. And after all, the knowledge of the eventual renewal at the Winter Solstice must be of some comfort.
I don’t know. I think I believe that dignified acceptance is the ultimate goal and comfort. I relish fall, even more than spring. The anticipation of cooler air, colorful foliage, fall flowers, apples and pumpkins and all the season promises is at the center of my happiness in the season. I choose the dwell on the celebration of the turning of the Wheel.
I like to think that Father God does, too.
Comments