The Leo Crossquarter
The Greenman, John Barleycorn, Vegie Gods, masculinity and death
On the afternoon of August 7,2023, the Sun will reach 15 degrees Leo. This is the midway point between the Summer Solstice and Autumnal Equinox. Many neoagans celebrate this “cross quarter” as Lammas or Lughnasadh on August 1st. It is the first of three “harvest celebrations” (the other two being the Autumn Equinox or Mabon and Samhain or Halloween). As such, it blends the joy and abundance of harvest time with a dawning awareness of death and decay.
If you are an early riser, you may have noticed that The Sun rises slightly later than it did even a few weeks ago. You may have noticed a few spent leaves on the ground, their Autumn colors reminding us that the year is already in decline. It is a strange time of years, the long still days drowsing us into forgetfulness of the enthusiasm with which we greeted the spring. You might also be asking yourself where the time has gone.
This particular “spoke” in the wheel of the year lies directly across from Imbolc (remember where you were last February?). The two sabots share a few things in common. In both cases we are wise to realize that it is later than we think. In the depth of cold gray days when it seems that light and warmth are far away, Spring is literally just around the corner. Here in the midst of weary Summer, the harvest is already upon us. But for me, the most interesting symmetry between Imbolc and Lammas is the way they reveal to us the “gendered” aspects of nature. At Imbolc we recognize the essential role of the feminine. At no other time does nature feel more like a “Mother” then when we celebrate the birth and nourishment of the fragile infant - Imbolc (in the belly) or Oimelc (yew’s milk). Without this loving care, the year would die in its’ cradle. At Lammas we catch a glimpse of the other side of nature, the masculine and paternal aspect.
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I usually catch a glimpse of him toward the end of July around the time The Sun enters Leo. In the play of light and shadow in treetops or thick undergrowth I might see the face of a man or even his full body. Like the forms we see in clouds he comes. By the time I recognize him, the image fades to leaves and branches. Forget trying to get a picture. It is The Greenman, the force of the Flowery Wand that rises in Spring (have you ever seen bamboo when it first breaks the soil?).
Although he is said to bring The Spring, I feel him most when summer has passed its peak of vigor. A wizened old visage reminding me where all of this frenetic growth is heading. A kind of gallows humor in his voice as he sings to me of poor old John Barleycorn.
It is an old old tune about three men who plant and reap a field of grain. They break John’s body to make the nourishing bread and gladdening beer and grain spirit. Does this remind you of another story of a man broken, his body and blood sustaining us and gladdening our hearts with a promise of something beyond death. But to reach this something we must first follow his rough way.
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There are many, MANY stories of vegetable Gods, (Tammuz, Osiris, Dionysus, Jesus). Born of “virgin” mothers (belonging to no man). Inanna, Isis, Semele, Mary – all bore Sons who were later sacrificed and resurrected in order to bring new life to an imperiled world. Further, these “sons” are all thought to be, in some way, consubstantial (of the same substance and nature) with their father. Some of these stories say outright that the Son, is the issue of an incestuous union with the mother. The son is his own father – “I and the Father are One”. What is going on here?
Each year, many seeds find their way into the soil. They are sheltered through the cold night of the year and emerge as the Sun regains the greater share of the day in spring time. As these plants grow, they draw the very substance of their bodies from what is all around them, the light and air, the water and soil – from The Earth. From the root to the fruit and the seed it bares, the material existence of all plant life, and all of the animal life which feeds upon it, is “borrowed” from the Earth. To paraphrase the poet John Trudell, all living things are “shapes of The Earth”. All living things are forms that Mother Earth allows – “I am The Lord’s servant” Mary answered, “May your word to me be fulfilled”. But who is the servant of servants?
In the many stories of Savior Gods that come down to us from ancient times, we see some common themes. Some outsider figure, born of a union between a “Sky God” and a “Virgin” enters the world. It is usually a hostile world bound in rigid codes and traditions which, originally constructed to protect and regulate life, have come to strangle it. Dionysus to the citizens of Thebes says:
”Citizens of Thebes, I am the greatest challenge mankind has ever faced. You have been trapped inside customs and mores as all mortals have been. You revere order and discipline, which are naturally indispensable in order to live peacefully within the city. But you bury deep within yourselves that ounce of difference which both worries you and excites you at the same time. I am the other, the outcast, the special one, and I am here to reveal that darker side that resides inside you. If you reject it as you have rejected me outside your walls, you will be as lost as proud Pentheus your kind was lost. But if you accept these wild forces, if you let them in rather than repel them, you will be saved. My Father, the Almighty Zeus, has sent me to teach you that true folly is not what you may think. True folly is wanting a perfectly virtuous and rational city. Only the Gods live in such perfection, you, mortals must keep your excesses. Do not admit to reason alone. Do not exclude reason, welcome it. But also welcome the unforeseen, the unpredictable which may disturb you at first. This is the condition that will guarantees your freedom.”
There is too much focus on worldly success and service to the existing social order. The makers and keepers of this order are proud, claiming to embody the order of God on Earth. Their sin is the hubris of aping the perfect order of the spirit world of eternity here in the mutable material world. By this hubris they become severe and unjust, expecting the perfection of angels from men. unable to achieve this perfection even in themselves, their brutality increases until it reaches the one who would save them.
This New God spreads some kind of ecstasy, promising a life beyond this world, beyond death. This New God is perceived as a threat by the existing social order who sets about discrediting, and eventually, destroying him by some brutal device. And yet, this New God of eternal life some how manages to cheat death and the grave and, in so doing, provides his adherents a means by which to transcend this mortal coil. The death of the New God completes his work in Earth by bringing about his resurrection.
That “ounce of difference which Dionysius warns us against rejecting is the excess of nature. The well ordered garden grows upon manure and last year’s stubble, trees grow from a carpet of rot that is the forest floor. We are rooted in what has already died on our behalf. Death is the only path to rebirth. The derangement of the senses which is the gift of Dionysius represents the darkening of reason which allows a fresh vision of life.
At the same time, order, if it is to exist at all, must strive to keep its shape. It does this by rejecting the ounce of difference which undermines it. thus, a conflict arises in which the very forces of order set upon the bringer of the new wine in a blind rage driven by the very chaos they seek to exclude. The “special one”, the “anointed one” is a tragic hero who, paradoxically, Brings a new order by suffering at the hand of the old. So it is with old John Barleycorn. He must die in order to bring life and joy to the people.
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The Masculine, as we find it here in the material world, what is it? That fleeting face among the leaves and branches, accident of light and time, gone before my reckoning. I observe the yellowing leaves of blackberry vines, exhausted as an old man bent and shriveled, his life spent bringing fruits from the earth. Cold berries at breakfast as we watch the birds strip final fruits, to spread their seed in droppings. The life that passes through us like a wave – the air she breathes – this is all we are, his birth and death and resurrection.
The masculine then is, that aspect of nature and the soul that knows not only that it will die, but that it must die in order for the world to be born anew. All traditionally “masculine” pursuits, hunting, warring, mining, building, involve danger and death. Inherent in this is the idea that we may not live to see the completion of the work. But others will. The masculine then is the turn of mind that makes us - whether we are men OR women - willing to die that someone else might live.
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Lammas is, as has been said, only the first of three harvest festivals. One might think that all this talk of death and resurrections might be better left to Samhain, or at least Mabon, why dim the mood of harvest season so soon? The reason is this: our appreciation of the true cost of the harvest should deepen our gratitude for its’ bounty. More over, we understand that we all must some day be reckoned in that cost that others may enjoy the harvests that will come after us.
Blessed Lammas Friends.
Here are a few songs to celebrate the season.