How important are the ancestors in your Druid ritual? Do you invite them in? Do you ask anything else of them?
Kris Hughes : This takes place during the creation of sacred space. The ancestors of the four corners of our island are honoured and acknowledged with libation of mead. Four indidviduals will perform this duty with poetry and song. The four directional stones stand in permanent honour of the ancestral dead. The ancestors play an imoprtant role in all our rituals, but particualrly poignant are they during Calan Gaeaf (Samhain) to which we dedicate most of the ritual. Our rituals encourage communion with the ancestors where we listen to their wisdom and teachings.
Jon Grundy : There are three kinds of ancestor for me to honour. I am
bones, blood, flesh and mind. These were formed from my mother and father and the millions of mothers and fathers before them, humans, before humans, before hominids, before vertebrates, before plants, back to the “primordial ooze”.
Then, if “I” am spirit, perpetually reincarnated throughout the bionetwork, and before that as stardust, my ancestors are all these creatures, entities, things and the things I am yet to meet. And there are my ancestors of faith. Many will have been of the Abrahamic faiths, and the “pagan” faiths and the first quaking at the rumble of thunder, the shake of the ground, the tempest, the forest fire, the drought and the dark times of cold and hunger. Their experience and wisdom and foolishness, their triumphs and disasters, their being and departing, they are the legacy of my forebears.
Their memories are left behind, a perpetual echo through the ages, in the
Otherworld. When I merge with the spirit that is all things, I join with them all. Through the Awen, I feel them; through the mist, I see them. I call to these at the Samhain, the early morning, the dark of night and in the old places. In the ringing of the beechwood, in the dark water and in the dance, they meet with me – they have always been there.
Phil Ryder : Our ancestors are with us constantly, in the shape of the land, in the air we breathe, in our food and drink, the blood in our veins and in the spiritual path we follow. We acknowledge their presence; we honour them, welcoming them to our celebration.
Emma Restall Orr : Some talk of Druidry as a religion of ancestor veneration. I feel this is often misconstrued as being worship of the dead, and this is not what I understand as Drudry. When we honour or revere the ancestors, we are acknowledging those of our own blood, those who have lived on the land where we live, and those of our heritage whose teachings we now seek to comprehend. Our reverence comes not from a sense of these folk having been heroes, for they were often as flawed as we are; our reverence is based on the perception of where or how they are. For the dead are in the wind, as breath and words spoken, songs sung. They are in the waters of our land which hold so much memory. They are in the mud that nourished them, which their bodies nourish when they died. They are in our blood, in the stories told, in the mistakes we make, in the lessons we have learned, in each child’s smile, in every ploughed field, each glimpse of hope. Our ancestors are all around and within us. As such, it is through them that we are able to find that exquisite connection with nature. This is what we revere, this is what we give thanks for, raising our meadhorn in their honour, remembering their names and their stories.
Louise Sutherland : For me there are three sets of ancestors: the ancestors who shaped the land I’m on, those whose bones lay within it; the ancestors of my bloodline and those who raised me; and the ancestors of the Craft. I honour all three within my rites and meditations. My honouring of the ancestors is mostly about my gratitude. When I honour the ancestors of the land, it allows me to be more aware of where I am, to feel the history of the place and to acknowledge their presence. The ancestors of the land remind me of the long line of humanity which I am a part of, and the simplicity of our lives and deaths as we cycle around, living and dying, feeding the land and being fed by it. I honour the ancestors of the Craft as an expression of my gratitude for those who teach me, thankful that throughout history there have been folk whose souls are woven into the land. In honouring the ancestors of the Craft I am able to feel my place among them as a student and as a future teacher. I honour the ancestors of my blood and those who raised me, to feel their presence within and around me, to acknowledge my humanity, my weaknesses and to feel the courage and strength of my bloodline within me.
Ximena Eduarda : I conceive the ritual as the vivification of my ancestors’ legacy; when I speak their words I repeat, when I sing their songs I intone; when I dance their dances I display, when I invoke their knowledge I apply and when I transform their magic I apply. I meet with them in Samhain, with the ones I remember and those who come to remind me who I am, planting together the seeds for the new cycle.
Usually I feel in my rituals a very powerful force, which when activated inside of me, the presence of my maternal blood I recognize; my mother who still dwells in this world, and the Triad that gave life to both of us: my grandmother, my great-grandmother and my great-great-grandmother. Being the four of them the kind of women who make of their strength and greatness a way of life. Once this force is activated I feel the fruits of life as if from me they proceeded and start handling the ritual with unusual and supreme mastery.