There's definitely a change in the air today. It's fresher, cooler, and almost sharper. The heat of July has suddenly given way to something else.
I woke this morning and realised we are fast approaching a time Pagans call 'Lammas'. Traditionally this is the time for the harvest to begin, for the Sun to give up its place in our lives and for the summer to gradually turn into autumn. But there is an aspect to Lammas, I have to say, which is a little sad and sometimes even brutal, as is life, of course. And Pagans have always accepted these aspects of life, even though it might look as if it's all singing and dancing round the May Pole. And this festival is both a celebration of the harvest and an often poignant reminder of the cycle of life which is all around us.

Lammas is harvest time

At Lammas, the Sun God or the Father, as he is now, must give way to his Son. We have followed the cycle of fertility and birth throughout the year and, just as the apples on the trees have ripened and the corn in the fields grown golden and heavy, the young God has grown, with his mother's protection and his father's guidance, almost to adulthood. And, as the sun wanes, the new, youthful God must take his place. And perhaps that can be seen around us, if we look for it.

Summertime can be a time of exploration for young men and is, perhaps, the time for boys to become men. I wonder if that is why, come the end of summer, we see rites and festivals like Lammas all over the world? For Pagans here, this festival sees the Sun God, often in the form of John Barleycorn or the Wicker Man, making a sacrifice for the sake of the harvest and to make way for the next generation.

Now, the word 'sacrifice', I know, often summons up gruesome images from films made in the 1970s when everyone believed Pagans to be bloodthirsty heathens! However, this idea of the old father laying down to give up his place is very much a symbolic part of these rites. (Though it is more dramatic for films to have an orgiastic bloodletting). In many ways the songs and traditions of August taught valuable lessons about the word. They illustrate that, in order for us to step on and progress, new ideas and fresh talents must be encouraged and allowed to take the place of the old. But in Paganism it is also believed that we live on, even after our bodies are gone, through the whole of life. At Lammas, this is played out through this Father and Son relationship. Like the Oak tree, whose essence is passed into the Earth and rises again in the form of its offspring. The seeds of wild flowers will also now fall and lie in wait until next spring when they will take the place of the flowers which shed them. This version of reincarnation back into the world is seen in many forms throughout Pagan writings and offers us a chance to develop and learn lessons which one single lifetime could not accommodate.

John's Lammas altar

So, at Lammas, the rituals and songs tell of the sad death and irrepressible rebirth of the old spirit of the barley fields and orchards. And that, of course, usually means more than a little drinking of ale and cider, a tradition which is still common today. The spilling of ale and beer into the fields is also part of this festival, encouraging the fertility of the corn for the next year. A very old song is often sung at this time of year called John Barleycorn, telling of the old God of the fields being cut down, thrashed, ground down - and how he rises, time and time again from the Earth. A very ancient version of the resurrection theme which runs through most indigenous Spiritualities and also part of our folklore telling how agriculture was developed by the three young 'magus' or 'Wize' Men.

But this is not just a time for the God. His power, in the skies as well as his influence upon our lives, is fading now. And, cool and patient, the Goddess stands in wait as her children celebrate his passing and enjoy the fruits of their labours. Great feasts were common in August and the figure of the Goddess would be venerated after sundown to acknowledge her coming and her growing influence. Perhaps this was more evident in the past, since, after building, toiling in fields and working the land, the man's work would have been more or less done for a time and the work of tending the family, preparing food for winter and caring for vulnerable children in the freezing months would me down to the mother. We must not underestimate her work in these deadly, dark months. Before central heating and fridge freezers, the survival of a family would be a very real and daily struggle while men searched for food and wood to burn.

The "eternal Goddess"

Perhaps this festival also marks the eternal quality of the Goddess as seen in Paganism. We regard the female as being a permanent state and generally static. Mother Nature is cyclic and, although there are changes within that cycle, the essence of Nature remains immutable. It is the God who seems to constantly change, never permanent, never sated and often imperfect. In this part of the great turn of the year, we see how that relationship is illustrated and is necessary. The Goddess standing by and witnessing her consort falling to Earth but encouraging her son to take his place and take things one more step further. This eternal Goddess, in her three aspects as Virgin, Mother and Wise Woman, is symbolised as the Moon.

Personally I find Lammas a particularly important time since it is not only my birthday, but is also the anniversary of my Father's death. Up until the time I became interested in Paganism, I felt that losing him on my birthday was a terrible twist of fate. Now, however, as you will have read, I can see it in a different light and spend Lammas remembering my Father and celebrating his life and the things he taught me. Simply giving me life is enough of a gift for me and, at sundown, no matter what kind of celebration or Rite I perform, when I think of the Sun finally setting and 'dying', I raise a glass to my Father and, looking down at my altar strewn with summer fruits and breads, thank him for the gifts he has left in his wake. And I think that is the essence of Lammas, and is why, even now, we celebrate this time of year with Harvest Festivals and take Summer Holidays to bid the Sun farewell.