This article was originally published in the 2013 Yule edition of Oak Leaves, a publication of Ár nDraíocht Féin: A Druid Fellowship. It is an excellent publication and I highly recommend subscribing and reading up on what the druids of ADF are about. In an attempt to update my blog I have backdated this post. The material presented below is my attempt at defining some of the interesting traditions and terminology one finds within Nordic source material. Thus this work is completely my interpretation and you should absolutely do the research and discover for yourselves what resonates. I hope you enjoy the information and find something useful for your own practice.
What exactly is Yule?
We tend to celebrate Yule at or near the winter solstice depending on scheduling for grove rites. The day usually falls sometime between December 19th-22nd. Depending on the hearth culture that the individual chooses to honor, there are a variety of celebrations that occur during the month of December; we as ADF druids label the entire time period, “Yule”. The purpose of this article is to explain what the background for celebrating Yule entails for those practicing a primarily Scandinavian/Nordic hearth as well as give an example of how to set up ritual space for the beginning of the season.
In the Saga of Hákon the Good,by Snorri Sturluson, we are told that the Yule celebration lasted for three nights. King Hákon, a Christian, sought to impose the new religious practices of Christmas onto his subjects. He tried to pass several „Yuletide reforms“ that included celebrating Yule on December 25th rather than at the winter solstice. His pagan subjects objected to this and Hákon found himself in the difficult position of dealing with unruly people while trying to battle outside forces. In Religion of the Northmen by Rudolph Keyser, Yule is placed at the time of the miðr vetr (Mid-winter) festival around the middle of January. Though the date of the festival is different in the two sources, Keyser matches Snorri when he says:
„It began on Midwinter-night (miðsvetrar-nátt), which, by reason of the great sacrificial slaughter then performed, was named höggu-nátt, the Hewing or Butchering Night, and it lasted three days, or, according to the ancient mode of expression, three nights.“ (p.220)
I wondered what the „ancient mode of expression“ in Keyser‘s statement might mean and found a quick reference in The Island of Fire by Rev. P.C. Headley page 95 that read:
„ The Icelander‘s sabbath, like that of colonial New England, which has not yet wholly disappeared from its valleys, commences at six o‘clock Saturday evening, and closes the same hour the following day.“
Whether the pre-Christianized Scandinavian people began their festivals in the evening versus the morning we may never know but Headley‘s statement gives us food for thought where a society deeply entrenched in tradition is concerned. Regardless of the time of day that a high-day was observed there are two conflicting points as to where Yule actually falls within the Nordic calendar. Do we believe Snorri‘s versions that capture the traditions of Yule as they are seen by a Christian over two hundred after the events? Do we believe Keysor who wrote his analysis of the traditions in 1854? In my opinion the conflict boils down to individual interpretation of the source materials.
Icelandic calendars were broken down into two seasons, winter and summer. There were twelve months to a year and four weeks to every month. This left four extra days a year and every couple of years led to eleven extra days creating a leap week (sumarauki). The extra week was placed between the third and fourth summer months making the normal 364 day, 52 week year into a 371 day, 53 week year and since the 12th century were inserted when necessary. The Icelandic months were divided at the half point of our current Gregorian calendar. Winter began the middle of October (Gormánuður) and ended with the beginning of April (Einmánuður). The months of winter fall like so: Gormánuður, Ýlir (Frermánuður), Jólmánuður (Hrútmánuður, Mǫrsugr), Þorri, Gói, and Einmánuður. (See Table 1)
Table 1:
When you account for the change in days every few years it is easy to see why the date of Yule would have shifted. What it does not explain is why there is nearly a five week difference between Keysor‘s and Snorri‘s accounts. This may be where we see personal interpretation play a key role.
Keysor mentions that of the three main sacrificial festivals one is held on Winter-night (Veturnætur) and one is held on Midwinter-night (miðsvetrar-nátt). This may be where the issue lies. It appears by the similarity in names to be two different times where a „winter night“ occurs. On top of that throw in the winter solstice and you end up with quite a tangled mess, unless you read a little more and insert some UPG. Keysor explains that Winter-night occurred at the beginning of the winter season, mid-October, and was a time that the folk set aside to welcome in the winter cold. In Diana Paxon‘s book Essential Ásatrú, she says:
„Sigvat, an eleventh-century Christian skald, complained in a poem about having been refused hospitality at a farm because the people were sacrificing to the alfar. The alfar (elves) are ancestral spirits.“ (p. 109)
Now we have a time of year where the harvest period has ended, winter is welcomed in, and the ancestors are honored. This fits in quite nicely with the Samhain season but the name tends to throw people off. For those of us in more southern climes (as opposed to Norway and Iceland) we are enjoying a fall with beautiful colors on the trees, pumpkins, and Samhain parties. Though it is not yet upon us a nip is in air and we know that winter is coming. A better term, one that Paxon uses as well, would be Winter Finding. I tend to see this as winter finding its way back to us after the long summer months. By slightly adjusting the name we can then look at the other two winter type feasts and work on defining them better for our own practices.
Midwinter-night occurs around the middle of January. A seventeenth-century manuscript (AM 466 12mo) begins a calendar with the incipit: „January, mid-winter month…“. The pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place when we account for midwinter in a more literal sense rather than as another word for the winter solstice. Scotland has an annual festival called Up-Helly-aa near the 11th of January. On a side note, the festival is hosted on a live feed that is accessible for those that wish to watch the Vikings invade and take over a Scottish town for a day. Some groups celebrate Twelfth Night during this time by counting twelve days from the new calendar year. The feast for midwinter-night is sometimes called a Þorra-blót as it occurs right at the beginning of the Þorri month of the Icelandic Calendar. It is the month of snow and ice, when the worst winter has to offer in the far North often occurs. Winter stores are brought out, mead is poured, and the people celebrate the final turn towards summer. If we begin the „winter“ season in October by renaming the first feast time as Winter Finding, then I believe we can safely label the feast in January either Winter Nights or Þorri-blót. My personal preference is Winter Nights as I generally recognize the Nordic Goddess, Skaði, at this time period and the more generic name allows me to do so.
Yule (Jól), as mentioned before, is a three day feast honoring peace, family, and welcoming back the sun during the shortest day of the year, Winter Solstice. Winter Solstice is the same for all those in the northern hemisphere occurring around December 19th-22nd. In the southern hemisphere they would observe the solstice in June, again all those living in that half of the world observing the shortest day at the same time. Here is where we can pull in Headley‘s statement regarding times for honoring the sabbath. While he may have been referring specifically to Sunday worship of Christians, I can personally see where the idea may have had much earlier roots. Beginning a feast day towards the end of a day, or sundown, allows for the practitioner to finish off necessary chores from that day in order to devote the next period of time (whether a single day or many) completely to their observances. Almost like cleaning your house before going on vacation. When you get back the only thing you have to clean is what you brought in with you. Observing high days is no different. For Yule all work is set aside, projects are finished, and none are started until the new year. Paxson states:
„December 19th – Mother Night. A feast in honor of Frigg and mothers. A time to celebrate the family, especially the women and children, and female ancestors…From this time through the end of Yule, all spinning must be finished and put away.
December 20 (or the eve of the solstice) – Yule Eve. The longest night of the year. Light the Yule log. Bake Yule cakes for each child. The house must be thoroughly cleaned and a light left burning all night.“ (p. 111)
It is the light left burning that intrigues me. Take a moment to place yourself outside of the modern day world. Think about a home in Iceland, Greenland, Norway, or Sweden where in the winter the only light is the fire in your hearth and maybe a lantern or two. The days have been getting shorter, the nights have drawn on longer and longer. The evening of the solstice has arrived and there were only three hours of light, which is a relative term, for the entire day. Farther north with the Samis, there may not have been any light at all. Clouds, mist, and even terrain may have blocked out any sunlight that struggled to get through. The world has become eerily silent and cold. Nothing appears to move or breath. Time almost seems to stand still and you feel in the pit of your stomach that touch of fear and uncertainty. You wonder, for a few moments, if the sun will ever come back. Now expand that to more than just a few moments and instead try and imagine that feeling holding you in a state of unrest and worry for days or weeks. Your only consolation is the fire burning in your hearth and those you have gathered close about you. This is what Yule is about. We know today, through science, that the earth has tilted away from the sun and is at its furthest point in orbit. We also know that the idea of the sun not returning is less likely thanks to calendars and years of scientific observation. In the time of the early Scandinavians, however, the sun may not have been seen to rise for several days. The longer the darkness went the more people became afraid and despondent. Fear of death from dark beings and the cold led to vigils and prayers to gods and goddesses of old for the safe return of the sun and warmth. We label these older civilizations as ‘superstitious’ compared to our modern concepts. That is a presumptuous stance. These superstitions are what gave a people faith and provided the roots for ritual observances.
In what way can we observe Yule?
It is at this juncture of the article that I can share what I do from a personal standpoint, or my own UPG. I begin the Twelve Nights of Yule on December 19th. This allows me to celebrate Twelfth Night itself on New Year’s Eve. My setting of dates may not be entirely accurate (I am NOT a Reconstructionist) but if you read the previous paragraphs you will understand that really no one knows for certain where the dates actually occurred. What I attempt to do is connect with traditions that my ancestors may have observed in a way that fits within my modern world. For example, some people work third or second shift and would have to adjust ritual times according to their individual schedules. Do not concern yourself with matching specific times unless you absolutely feel the need.
It is the beginning of the new spiritual year for many of us and thus a time to be rid of the old and make way for those things that start us fresh. With this in mind, the 19th becomes the day of preparation. Beginning in the morning with the necessary cup of “do not let me kill anyone,” place yourself in the mindset of preparing your hall. After morning devotional (if this is part of your daily routine), start with cleaning the kitchen. The kitchen is often considered the heart of the home. As such, if the heart is not clean, then the rest of the house seems slovenly and ‘clogged.’ I dedicate all of the energy I use in the cleaning of the house to Frigg (as a goddess of hearth and home) or Nerðus (as the Earth Mother). I find that making the work an offering places my mind in a slightly altered space, a light trance, that allows for all of the nasty jobs (such as cleaning the toilets after boys) to not matter so much. It opens my mind to the kindreds and I also feel a great deal better as I do it. Once the space is cleared, take a break. Breaks are just as important as the work itself. This allows you to switch from the cleaning mode into the ‘creating sacred space’ frame of mind. After the break, and perhaps a light snack to rejuvenate the body, it is time to set up the altar.
How you decide to set up is entirely up to the individual, as well it should be. Altars are personal expressions of our relationships with the kindreds. No one can tell you how your space should look. If you are unable to have a full yule log, improvise. It isn’t about being ‘correct’ or ‘exact’, as long as the intent is there. If all you have is a picture of a yule log that you tape pictures of candles to each night then go for it! If you have small children or just live in a small space try drawing a yule log and then add a candle drawing each night. Use construction paper and be creative. As the yule log is sacrificed in the fire on Twelfth Night it would make a perfect art project with the little ones that is easily cleaned up (with no need for storage). Those creative energies are fantastic offerings to the kindreds, can serve as a wonderful teaching time with little ones, and give you a sense of accomplishment while setting up your space. I happen to have a log this year so I will share what I, personally, am doing.
The Yule log is prepared with thirteen holes drilled to fit either taper or tea lights. Yes, I said thirteen. The center candle is the one used to light all the others and should be considered the sacred flame (much like the Flame of Kildare). The colors you use for your log are entirely up to you. I prefer all white candles. That may change depending on what resonates from year to year. The Yule log is the center piece. Place the log with the candles in front. If you are ready to actually bless the space, then by all means set the candles within the log. I prefer to wait for evening. Gather all the materials you need to set up for Yule and arrange them on the altar as you see fit, including any non-perishable offerings. Place the candle that is specifically dedicated to the Sun Deity of your choice in a prominent place that is easily accessible. You do not want to have difficulties in lighting your candles nor set yourself on fire trying to reach everything.
When you are ready to decorate the altar and bless it, start by a simple grounding and centering. Once you have ‘shut out’ the mundane and set your mind to the task at hand, begin by decorating the Yule log. Place the candles one by one, dedicating them to their appropriate night (it is fine to carve the night/deity into the wax for ease in remembering). Once the candles are set, place those items that you wish to dress the log with around and on it, as necessary. You can pray, sing, chant, talk to the kindreds, whatever you feel called to do. The idea is to connect the physical act of what you are doing to both the kindreds and your own spiritual mindset. You are linking everything together. If you use evergreens, drape them appropriately on the log and around the altar. Once you have the log and altar ready then begin to bless the space. If you wish to perform a full ADF Core Order, then do so. I prefer to bless the space with incense, then with water while I invite the kindred to be present. Once this task is done light the center candle with the intent of making it the sacred flame. I do this by dedicating that candle to the Earth Mother from whom all things come. My mentality is that without the earth there is no me. From the Earth all things come, to her all things return. It is only fitting that the main flame of the log belongs to her. [If you prefer to dedicate the center candle to Sunna/Sol (insert hearth sun deity here) then do it. The Yule Log is yours to set and dress as you see fit.] Once you have dedicated the candle, try to burn it for about an hour envisioning the flame as your connection to the Earth’s flow. The time is not a requirement just a suggestion. Then extinguish the flame, close down the rite in whatever manner resonates within you and go about your business. You are now ready to honor the Twelve Nights of Yule.
Personal devotionals can still be done in the mornings and even in the evenings if the individual desires. The celebration of twelfth night is to be looked upon as an additional festivity instead of supplanting the usual workings.
Okay, I set up my sacred space for Yule. Now what?
Well, this depends on the person. If you are not interested in doing anything more than the winter solstice don’t. Once I have my space created and ready I practice my own version of the twelve nights. I think that may be a different article though. On the actual winter solstice I perform an all-night vigil. Think back to my comments on lights left burning. We do know that early Scandinavians stayed up on the Winter Solstice to keep the fires burning. Part of this was for warmth, part to light the lodge while the folk gathered were drinking and partying. Either way a light was left burning. Now think about the scenario of concern I painted. Even though we have science to teach us that there is no need to fear the sun not returning, there is still that small child inside of us that wonders. I discovered this in my own practice over the past few years.
On the winter solstice I try to take a nap in the early afternoon. There are times that work interfered and I was unable to do so but the effort was made to rest. I have since learned to just take the day of and the day after off. About an hour before sunset I bring out Sunna’s candle, an offering, and some matches to the back porch. Sometimes I dress in full ritual garb, other times I don’t. It’s up to you what feels right. Once sunset approaches I go outside and face the west. I call out to Sunna bidding her a peaceful rest on this longest night and entreat her to return when the night is over. I make an offering of thanks to her for the warmth and light she has given us and then hold up the candle to her fading light. Striking the match, or lighter, I set the flame to the wick as Sunna sets calling to her to place her own spark within the flame that it may guide her back come morning. I try my best to time things appropriately but sometimes the wind picks up and you just have to keep the intent focused while you relight. There is some argument as to whether the Goddess Sól is the same as Sunna. They are both listed as a sun deity and with similar genealogy. One might consider them one and the same or perhaps two twin sisters. I see them like this: Sól (which translates specifically as Sun) as the physical Sun. Sunna, again to me, is the energy that radiates from the Sun. You cannot have one without the other or there is no power. The reason I separate them is that there is not any indication within the lore that they are the same person. Sól is not listed as a kenning for Sunna nor vice versa. One is listed in the Prose Edda and one in the Poetic Edda. This would lead me to believe that they are two different entities that share similar duties perhaps due to regions of worship. If you wish to honor them separately then do so, if it feels like you should combine them into one being absolutely do that. It’s your practice. Once Sól, the physical aspect of Sunna, sets I turn to walk into the house carefully handling the flame. As I cross the threshold I announce to those present in the house, including the wights, “Behold, Sunna has entered our home. The flame has been kindled and we now tend her light that she may find her way back tomorrow at the end of this darkest night. Hail Sunna.”
This begins the vigil. Sunna’s flame is carefully placed on the altar in a position of honor. At the top of every hour I offer up a small prayer to the deity, ancestor, spirit of choice. You can start with Oðin, then move through the Æsir and the Asyniur, or recognize an entity as it fits within the COoR, or just make small prayers to Sunna each hour if you like. One hour I like to devote to Frigg and all her handmaidens. That particular hour prayer generally lasts about 10 minutes while the rest usually only take a minute or two. As I also honor the twelve nights of Yule I try to incorporate one devotional prayer to coincide with whichever candle I am lighting that evening. Now this sounds pretty simple, right? It starts off pretty easy and you can usually keep momentum going until about 2:30 in the morning. This is when things start to get difficult. No matter how great of a nap you take your body still wants to sleep. Couple that with the neighborhood becoming quiet, kids going to bed, life beginning to settle for the evening and you are looking at one tired Druid. Starting about 3 am is when you have the opportunity to receive even the smallest inkling of what your ancestors may have experienced at this time of year. I turn off all the lights and as many appliances as I can get away with shortly after midnight. No computers, no phones, as little technology as possible. I have Sunna’s flame and maybe a few tealights for extra lighting. It is bad for reading books but perfect for meditation, jotting down thought processes, and just reflection. The quieter everything becomes the more unsettled you find yourself. The only break in the silence is your hourly prayer. The time starts to drag slower and slower. You are tired, anxious, and lonely. By 5 am you have begun to know what desperation is and it is at this point that you are the closest you may ever be to true understanding of what the returning sun means. You long for it, you cry inside for Sunna to appear, you even wonder whether she actually will. When the first lightening of the sky occurs it is truly a wonderful moment. You have tended the flame all night and now it is time to return it to the sky.
Take Sunna’s candle and carry it slowly out. Look to the east and watch for the sky to brighten. Once you begin to see the lifting of Sól hold up the candle and send that spark you held of Sunna back where she belongs. I make offerings of gratitude for her return and then extinguish the candle preserving it for the next year. Once we finish with the final welcoming it is time, at last, to pass out ourselves with the amazing feeling of accomplishment we received for having taken part in a concept that is centuries old even if the physical practice may not be.
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