Autumnus Lore and Rite
Pronounciation: aw-TUM-nuhs
Date: On or about September 21st
Other Names: Fall Equinox, Mabon
The second of the Harvest festivals, when more crops are gathered, more animals are slaughtered, and the God makes His second sacrifice. By some He is now called Lord of the Grain, as He dies a little more with each stalk that is cut down. The Goddess can be called the Grain Mother, as She still awaits the birth of Her Child, and presides over the Harvest in Her Consort's ever-growing absence. Again day and night are equal, just as it was at Eostre, but this time we are moving into the darkness instead of the light. The sickle, the curved blade used for the falling of grain, is an appropriate symbol now. It is also time to think back on the year, see what we have accomplished, and what we have yet to do in the short time before Winter begins anew at Samhain.
AUTUMNUS RITUAL
Set the altar and cast the Circle as usual. Ignore the "P/S" speaking distinctions if this is done as a Solitary rite.
PS: NIGHT AND DAY ARE AGAIN EQUAL, BUT NOW THE DARKNESS BEGINS TO CONQUER THE LIGHT, WE SHALL SEE LESS AND LESS OF THE SUN. THE LORD PREPARES TO MAKE HIS GREATEST SACRIFICE. WITH THE SOUND OF STEEL ON STONE, REAPERS SHARPEN THEIR SCYTHES…
P: I AM THE REAPER WHOSE STRENGTH SETS WITH THE SUN. EVENING COMES AND I GROW COLD, AND HUNGRY. I CRACK A GRAIN BETWEEN MY TEETH BUT DO NOT TASTE IT, FOR ITS SUSTENANCE IS NOT MINE OF WHICH TO PARTAKE. MY EARS, CAKED WITH DUST AND SOIL, STRAIN TO HEAR THE HARVEST SONGS. MY THROAT, DRY FROM THE WORK OF THE DAY, MERELY CROAKS WHEN I TRY TO ADD MY VOICE. MY EYES, CLOUDY WITH AGE, BARELY SEE THE FADED FORMS OF MY BROTHERS WHO WORK THE FIELDS STILL IN THE GROWING DARKNESS. I BEAT MY PALMS AGAINST THE SHEAVES, AND THE PAIN IS SWEET, SWEETER THAN OATS OR WHEAT OR CORN. I AM THE REAPER; WEARY, COLD, HUNGRY… WILLING
If a Group rite, all bow to P.
PS: TO AID THE LORD’S DESCENT, WE NOW DANCE, STAMPING DOWN THE SHORN STALKS INTO THE EARTH, ENSURING THE LAND WILL BE NOURISHED YET UNDER THE FROST. TONIGHT, WE HONOR THE KING!
If this is a Group rite, P to center in God position, stomping type dance around him while chanting.
ALL: THE KING IS DEAD!
LONG LIVE THE KING!
If this is a Group rite, P calls “DOWN,” energy sent to P. PS to East facing in, P to West facing out, still in God position.
If this is a Solitary rite, face West.
PS: BID FAREWELL NOW TO THE SUN KING, FOR HE SETS IN THE WESTERN SKY. GIVE THANKS NOW TO THE LORD OF THE GRAIN, FOR EACH FALL OF THE SCYTHE CUTS INTO HIM JUST AS DEEPLY. BUT AS HE DEPARTS, SO HE REMAINS, IN EACH SEED, IN THE GRAIN WE HAVE POUNDED INTO THE EARTH. THAT WHICH RISES MUST ALSO SET, AND THAT WHICH SETS MUST ALSO RISE, AND SO TURNS THE UNENDING CYCLE, SO SPINS THE WHEEL OF LIFE, FOREVER AND EVER. THEREFORE, ON THIS NIGHT, THE WISE DO NOT WEEP. BLESSÈD BE!
ALL: BLESSÈD BE!
Now to Cakes and Wine.
Date: On or about September 21st
Other Names: Fall Equinox, Mabon
The second of the Harvest festivals, when more crops are gathered, more animals are slaughtered, and the God makes His second sacrifice. By some He is now called Lord of the Grain, as He dies a little more with each stalk that is cut down. The Goddess can be called the Grain Mother, as She still awaits the birth of Her Child, and presides over the Harvest in Her Consort's ever-growing absence. Again day and night are equal, just as it was at Eostre, but this time we are moving into the darkness instead of the light. The sickle, the curved blade used for the falling of grain, is an appropriate symbol now. It is also time to think back on the year, see what we have accomplished, and what we have yet to do in the short time before Winter begins anew at Samhain.
AUTUMNUS RITUAL
Set the altar and cast the Circle as usual. Ignore the "P/S" speaking distinctions if this is done as a Solitary rite.
PS: NIGHT AND DAY ARE AGAIN EQUAL, BUT NOW THE DARKNESS BEGINS TO CONQUER THE LIGHT, WE SHALL SEE LESS AND LESS OF THE SUN. THE LORD PREPARES TO MAKE HIS GREATEST SACRIFICE. WITH THE SOUND OF STEEL ON STONE, REAPERS SHARPEN THEIR SCYTHES…
P: I AM THE REAPER WHOSE STRENGTH SETS WITH THE SUN. EVENING COMES AND I GROW COLD, AND HUNGRY. I CRACK A GRAIN BETWEEN MY TEETH BUT DO NOT TASTE IT, FOR ITS SUSTENANCE IS NOT MINE OF WHICH TO PARTAKE. MY EARS, CAKED WITH DUST AND SOIL, STRAIN TO HEAR THE HARVEST SONGS. MY THROAT, DRY FROM THE WORK OF THE DAY, MERELY CROAKS WHEN I TRY TO ADD MY VOICE. MY EYES, CLOUDY WITH AGE, BARELY SEE THE FADED FORMS OF MY BROTHERS WHO WORK THE FIELDS STILL IN THE GROWING DARKNESS. I BEAT MY PALMS AGAINST THE SHEAVES, AND THE PAIN IS SWEET, SWEETER THAN OATS OR WHEAT OR CORN. I AM THE REAPER; WEARY, COLD, HUNGRY… WILLING
If a Group rite, all bow to P.
PS: TO AID THE LORD’S DESCENT, WE NOW DANCE, STAMPING DOWN THE SHORN STALKS INTO THE EARTH, ENSURING THE LAND WILL BE NOURISHED YET UNDER THE FROST. TONIGHT, WE HONOR THE KING!
If this is a Group rite, P to center in God position, stomping type dance around him while chanting.
ALL: THE KING IS DEAD!
LONG LIVE THE KING!
If this is a Group rite, P calls “DOWN,” energy sent to P. PS to East facing in, P to West facing out, still in God position.
If this is a Solitary rite, face West.
PS: BID FAREWELL NOW TO THE SUN KING, FOR HE SETS IN THE WESTERN SKY. GIVE THANKS NOW TO THE LORD OF THE GRAIN, FOR EACH FALL OF THE SCYTHE CUTS INTO HIM JUST AS DEEPLY. BUT AS HE DEPARTS, SO HE REMAINS, IN EACH SEED, IN THE GRAIN WE HAVE POUNDED INTO THE EARTH. THAT WHICH RISES MUST ALSO SET, AND THAT WHICH SETS MUST ALSO RISE, AND SO TURNS THE UNENDING CYCLE, SO SPINS THE WHEEL OF LIFE, FOREVER AND EVER. THEREFORE, ON THIS NIGHT, THE WISE DO NOT WEEP. BLESSÈD BE!
ALL: BLESSÈD BE!
Now to Cakes and Wine.