Offering/Invocation, Acceptance

While Offering/Invocation and Acceptance can indeed be logically treated as separate segments, the ritual flow between the two parts is inseparably connected, and therefore, since both represent the mirror-images of a single sacred act of Exchange, it is useful to look at them somewhat simultaneously.

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To return to our analogy of the gathering of friend and Kin, think for a moment of the time when the folk had come together, and everything is in place.

If this is a casual dinner party, perhaps the host will stand up and call a toast either in honor of a special guest, or the food is finally brought out, and everyone starts passing the plates after a momentary appreciative pause. If this is a wedding reception, the newlyweds will come in and will be greeted with applause and toasts. If this is a surprise party, the guest of honor will enter, the lights will go on, and the folks will jump up out of their hiding places with much ado. At some gatherings, where gift-giving is expected, the gifts will be presented and opened at this time.

Whatever the nature of the gathering, and whatever the level of formality, at some point the activity will pass from transition to the "main course", and folks will get on with the business of sharing with each other, be it sharing of gifts, or of food, or of emotion, or of physical gifts, or of all these things.

It is much the same with ritual. The particulars of this segment very much depend on the occasion and the preference of the participants – but the heart of the matter remains the same: we give and we receive in the manner that embodies our sharing and communion with the Divine – our Kinship.

There are several separate elements that might occur simultaneously or at different times during this segment that merit discussion in this context:

INVOCATION:

Invocation is basically the address to the Deity/Spirit/s, or a group of Powers, as appropriate to the Rite, in preparation to making Offerings. Ideally, the invocation concludes with the participants of the Rite being very aware of the Presence of the invoked Power among them. And Ideally the invocation concludes with the Presence being very much aware of the participates.

Traditional invocations usually involve some or all of the following elements:

This last element – the specific concluding statement of the invocation depends greatly upon the particular practitioner’s understanding of how the Deity/Spirit/s are present in the Rite. This issue was already mentioned in introductory article, but it bears repeating here.

The understanding of the Presence may span the spectrum from quite literal to entirely mystical.

In the literal mode, the practitioner believes that the Power/s must be specifically called into the Rite, sometimes via a special action, such as opening a gate – or, conversely, that the practitioner himself must go into the place where the Deity/Spirit dwells, in order to come into Her presence. There are several fairly important implications to this mode. One of them is that in order to practice so, one must assume that the particular Powers one is addressing, even if They be Gods, are not only limited in where and how They are present and what They know, but also that our action is required to bring Them to our Rite.

The entirely mystical model assumes that spiritual connections – the underlying Oneness of the Divine – are present in all times and in all places, and it is only a matter of the state of mind to access that Oneness and come into the presence of whatever Spiritual Image that you seek.

Please note, that strictly speaking neither extreme necessarily precludes the other even within one person’s system of belief, since if one utilizes the concept of a mystical image, the two may very well co-exist, and each becomes apparent if the practitioner simply shifts the point of view. This is no different from choosing to look at a thing as a sum of it’s parts, or to look at a thing as a whole – both have their place in our understanding, and in our context it is useful to never forget that point.

As an analogy: you may drive at a car as a whole, but when you’re driving you specifically focus on the steering wheel and hope that the taillights and rear bumper are following along as expected.

Within ritual, however, either the group has to decide on a particular point of view to be consistent throughout the ritual, or to make sure to phrase the rite in such a way that each individual worshipper may interpret the words to suit her particular beliefs. The first approach is probably more suitable for a solitary ritual, or a closed circle of like-minded thinkers, the second is more suitable to an open group.

Indeed, this "neutral" approach is almost a necessity in a group TdB context, since we specifically try to allow for the individual’s right to develop their own beliefs. This is one of the reasons why in a group ritual, unless the personal beliefs of the group are nearly identical, it is important to use specific agreed-upon forms in invocations, and certain other key elements, rather then follow "do what your instinct tells you" type scenario.

Consider the following examples:

1. This is an example of the "literal" mode, with the ritual conducted in a shrine dedicated to Brighid. Note that the worshipper is specifically asking Brighid to welcome him into Her home – the shrine – and to accept the forthcoming offering:

"Oh, Lady Brighid
  Lady of the Wells,
  Lady of the Hearthfire,
  Lady of the Healing Hands,
  Welcome me into Thy home, I pray Thee,
  Hear my words, and accept my gifts."

2. On the other hand, an example of the "literal" mode conducted in a place not specifically dedicated to Brighid might go something like this. Note that the Goddess is specifically invited to enter the consecrated area:

"Oh, Lady Brighid
  Lady of the Wells,
  Lady of the Hearthfire,
  Lady of the Healing Hands,
  Join me in this sacred place, I pray Thee,
  Hear my words, and accept my gifts."

3. An example of the "mystical" mode, where the location is largely irrelevant, might look like the following. Note that the assumption is made that the Goddess can hear the prayer wherever the Rite may be taking place:

"Oh, Lady Brighid
  Lady of the Wells,
  Lady of the Hearthfire,
  Lady of the Healing Hands,
  Hear my words, and accept my gifts."

4. Finally, then, this is a "neutral" mode, where the issue is not explicitly addressed, thus allowing a variety of interpretation to the participants. Note that the "bless me even as I bless Thee" phrasing allows both for the literal and the mystical interpretation:

"Oh, Lady Brighid
  Lady of the Wells,
  Lady of the Hearthfire,
  Lady of the Healing Hands,
  Bless me even as I bless Thee, I pray Thee,
  Hear my words, and accept my gifts."

There are a few guidelines to remember regarding invocations:

One should neither command nor dismiss the Deity/s or Spirit/s. One, rather, invites, and/or acknowledges the Presence – politely – and bids goodbye at the end of the Rite. This is not an idle comment: there are indeed Neo-Pagan practitioners who holler "join us NOW" at the their Gods, and order "BEGONE" when their ritual is finished. Without necessarily addressing the issue of whether or not such behavior is in any way traditional to Druidry, it is sufficient to say that such behavior is inappropriate to the Druidry of Kinship -–simply because it is rude and presumptuous. Ordering one’s Kin to visit is not a good way to form or maintain a good relationship.

One should neither grovel nor beg. One, rather, gives honor, and asks for a due return. Kinship bestows a sense of dignity, even if it is sometimes an unequal Kinship. Human beings may not be as powerful, or as wise, as some of the Powers we may address in worship, but neither are we completely powerless and without wit. We as well are of the Divine, and we should not see ourselves as less then what we are.

To put this in a bit of a philosophical perspective: the first maxim of wisdom is "Know Thyself". To have pride in one’s own self-worth is a virtue, yet to be prideful – that is to claim more then that to which one is entitled – is, as the ancient Greeks would have put it, hubris, and hubris angers the Powers. On the other hand, humility – that is knowing one’s own limitations – is also a virtue, while self-humiliation – that is purposefully diminishing one’s own worth – is destructive, and offensive as well, for to humiliate oneself is to humiliate the Divine within. Thus, in another one of those ironies though which we sometimes approach the truth, pride and humility are two sides of the same thing: the knowledge of one’s own place and self-worth.

PETITION/PRAYER

It is perfectly appropriate in this segment of the Rite to address the Powers with specific requests – a prayer for special needs, perhaps, or a general blessing request. These may be included as part of invocations, or have their own place after the invocation takes place.

For instance, one might modify the above invocation to Brighid as follows:

"Oh, Lady Brighid
  Lady of the Wells,
  Lady of the Hearthfire,
  Lady of the Healing Hands,

Bless me with wisdom,
Bless me with love,
Bless me with health,

  Bless me even as I bless Thee, I pray Thee,
  Hear my words, and accept my gifts."

Or, if there is more then one participant, the petitionary prayer may be done as a litany – that is a dialog between one celebrant and group response - after the invocation. For instance:

<etc...>

The other type of prayer that may be offered at this time is a praise, or thanksgiving prayer. The first is usually an elaboration on the attributes of the Deity/Spirit addressed, and the second may be a thanks for a general blessings, or a particular event. Both, or either, as petitionary prayer, can be included into the invocation, or can stand on their own.

OFFERING:

In general terms, an offering is something that we give as a gift to Those we worship. Sometimes it is also called "sacrifice", though in traditional pre-Christian contexts it seemed to have lacked the altruistic nature usually associated with the word in modern context, but rather was interpreted in it’s literal meaning – that is to "make sacred" – as anything given to the Gods or Spirits is made sacred by the act.

As with just about all things concerning religion in general, and ritual in particular, the object of offering, as well as the act of offering does and should have many layers of meaning, as well as a variety of possible interpretations.

At the very first, literal, layer, the offering is an act equivalent to giving a guest-gift as per ancient traditions of hospitality, or something equivalent, such as a birthday gift, or another special occasion gift. The purpose of this kind of gift may be to generally engender good will, and express caring for the person receiving the gift, or to provide someone with something they might need and cannot otherwise afford, etc. We are all familiar with this sort of gift-giving – as we are equally familiar with emotional connotations of it: namely that giving a gift normally gives rise to a certain amount of obligation to reciprocate, if not at the moment of receiving a gift, then at a later date. This reciprocation may not be necessarily in kind – in other words it does not always involve the equivalent monetary value, for instance – but it may involve a more intangible thing, such as time, physical assistance, kindly feelings, etc. It is a social undertone that is rather unavoidable in most cultures, and leads to a rather involved, if mostly indirect, etiquette and art of gift-giving that basically can be pinned down to "do not give more then the person can be reasonably expected to reciprocate".

It is quite interesting to observe that even in the most casual situations, overly extravagant gifting can lead to strained relationship when the receiver becomes uncomfortable due to either feeling that the giver is trying to buy their friendship, or due to the impression that the giver is expecting something in return that the receiver is either unwilling or unable to give. One may even stretch this principle a bit further and consider that many believe – probably wisely – that the best form of charity for the poor is not to offer them money, but rather to offer them a job, thus giving them the ability – and the dignity – of reciprocity. Which principle does not negate either all charity giving, or the simple act of compassion towards the truly needy, whatever form it may take. The bottom line is that under ordinary circumstances, where neither charity, nor extremes are involved, the giving of gifts is loosely (or, in some cased, tightly) guided by the implicit understanding of the very thing that is one of the most important principles of Kinship – that is, balance and mutuality. As this is evident in most human-to-human interactions, it is reasonable to apply the same principle to the offerings given to the Divine. Nor is there anything new about this analysis: In the Havamal one reads: "It is better not asked, then given overmuch..."

As an example, consider a woman wanting to make an offering to Brighid and ask the Goddess for help in conceiving. This is a great gift, an important one, and so it deserves a special offering. This woman might, for instance, grow a special plant from a seed, plant it, and dedicate it to Brighid, asking for a blessing of fertility in return.

The question that begs to be asked while contemplating this first, literal, layer of the meanings of offering, and, perhaps, leads us to peek beneath this layer, is: just what is it that the God/s or Spirit/s may want, or even need, from us? And how much is too much?

Beyond the literal meaning of giving a gift as a sign of good will and caring, there is a layer of the substance of a gift. If one is observant, it is often easy enough to figure out what to give a human relative, for instance. If your mother’s washer breaks down, and her birthday is coming up, it is fairly effortless (short of the expense involved) to decide to give her a new washer. While the principle involved in making offerings to Deity’s and Spirit/s may be somewhat similar, the particulars are a bit more esoteric, since in this context we are dealing with the matters of the Otherworld, and for most folks, Otherworld is usually an ambiguous place at best, and should be. Parenthetically, the ambiguity of the matters of the Otherworld is intimately woven together with its mystical nature, and our own search for truths – one might observe that the most profound and universal truths are the most ambiguous precisely because they are true for many... The more one tries to squeeze out a precise definition, the less profound the statement becomes, which incidentally is rather opposite to the scientific methodology, which in turn is the reason why it is hardly ever advisable to apply the methods and terminology of science, be it physics or psychology, to religious matters, beyond pattern examples and such, no matter how tempting it may be... At any rate, the question that needs to be asked in this context is: what constitutes a meaningful gift when the receiver is a Deity or a Spirit? Or, perhaps, a more appropriate question would be: what do we receive from the Divine that invites, and ethically necessitates, reciprocation? There are many variations on the answers to these, just as there are many modern and historical forms of offering. Many would say that the gifts of the Divine include things like inspiration, guidance, luck, talent. It may be said as well that things like food, for instance, are the gifts of the Earth Mother, though it may also be argued that in the case of agriculture at least, the labor that is required to bring forth the food is an offering in and of itself, and the food production is at best a cooperative effort, though in this context it is not a bad thing to consider making offerings to the spirits of plants and animals that we eat, at the very least... On the other hand, the beauty of Nature is most certainly a gift that needs reciprocating. As another example, we owe our Ancestors for the gift of our life – quite literally. When considering the substance of a particular offering it is good to contemplate these things, and to make an offering commensurate with the nature of the gifts we receive, and the nature of the Power we are gifting.

For instance, a Druid might consider thanking the spirit of the animal he is cooking for dinner by setting aside a portion of, say, grain, and saying:

"Spirit of this cow, accept my offering of thanks for giving your life so that we might eat. From life to death, and from death to life again, may it be well with you in the Otherworld."

As another example, consider a Druid who meditates in her special sacred place in the woods, and suddenly sees a breathtakingly beautiful rainbow. She appreciates it for what it is – a generous gift from the Earth Mother.

In thanksgiving, she raises her arms up, sings a praise song, then takes a pretty stone from her pouch and places is in the earth, saying:

"Earth Mother, I thank Thee for the great gift of beauty. Accept my offering and my blessings. So be it."

Beyond these considerations, there is the question of the value of the offering. Usually a gift has a value quite beyond it’s monetary cost – and since we are dealing with spiritual matters, the value of the gift can only be evaluated from spiritual perspective. So the question pertinent to this layer is: how do we measure spiritual value? Perhaps the best measure we have is simply how much of ourselves do we engage both in the gift itself, and in the process of offering – ultimately each worshipper is responsible for the value her offering carries to the One/s she honors. How much of your own spirit can you involve in making an offering? What does the form of the offering mean to you, from religious perspective? How do you prepare it, bless it, give it, think of it? All these things come to the fore when one deals with the Divine, and there are no ready answers beyond your own thinking along the suggested patterns provided, and the traditions available. The pattern to consider here is that the essence of what we receive from the Divine is a blessings – and in exactly the same manner, we may consider the spiritual aspect of our gifts to the Divine a blessing. Whereupon the blessings we receive may not entail anything more physically tangible then a feeling of peace and fulfillment – or conversely may be as tangible as life and death, the blessings we give to the Divine serve as the mystical image of ourselves, of our own nature, and thus include both a physical manifestation, and a spiritual core.

For example, a Druid of Russian origin wants to make an offering to her Ancestors during the Samhain Fire Rite. She prepares an offering that to her seems pleasing to her departed Kin: in the traditional Russian manner she places a handful of cranberries into a bottle of Vodka, and keeps it in her freezer for about a month or so.

At the Rite, she raises the vessel with Vodka up and says:

"Beloved Ancestors, Mothers and Fathers of my blood, as the spirit of Fire is strong within this drink, so is the fire of my Spirit strong within my blessing."

She falls silent for a moment, blessing her offering in the silence of her soul, then continues,

"Accept this gift of my love and honor, bless me even as I bless Thee, and know that I remember."

With that, she pours her offering into the fire. (Carefully, because Vodka is extremely flammable! A little goes a long way...)

One might notice at this point, not without some amusement, that the deeper one delves into the layers of meaning, the more questions are asked, and the less ready answers are given. Ultimately, one may design and enjoy an effective and meaningful ritual using the literal meanings alone – but to journey deeper into the spiral path, even in this one aspect of ritual, is to delve into the Otherworld as surely as if one walked into an ancient Sacred Grove and met the Spirits of the Forest. The questions – some of them – might get you there, but the answers are your own task.

Finally, one of the deepest, and possibly the ultimate, meaning of Offering is that of Communion. In the most abstract manner, when we exchange the gifts with the Divine, we in a very real sense become the Divine, in whatever manner or aspect we might see it. The act of exchange is a mystical image of the interdependence and the interconnection of the Universe – and by acting it out we participate in maintaining and strengthening the links – we co-create the Universe. More – by acknowledging our own needs, and the needs of Those we worship by this exchange, we recognize both the limitations of our humanity, and the empowerment of our Divinity – and we recognize the Divine as symbiotic to our own existance. The relationship, at this depth, becomes that of oneness, of sharing substance and spirit via a gift – and that in and of itself becomes an offering, because there can be no higher offering then a mutual offering of Self.

For example, consider the following fragment of a Rite, as a small group of Druids approach the most sacred and mystical moment of their ritual:

The Lead Celebrant raises up a loaf of freshly baked bread and a vessel of tea brewed with sacred herbs.

<Lead Celebrant> "This is the essence of life, made of fire, and earth, and water."
<All> "Blessed is life, and those who give it."

A moment of silence passes, as all present silently bless the offerings with all the good and beautiful things that are in their hearts.

<Lead Celebrant>

"We lift these gifts

in the eye of the Mother who bears us
in the eye of the Father who begets us
in the eye of the Spirit that indwells us

  In friendship and affection
  Kindred Spirits, bless this offering
  That we might partake of Thy gifts
  Bestow upon us in the fullness of Thine abundance

the blessings of Love
the blessings of Wisdom
the blessings of Fertility

  That we might do in the world of the Three
  As the Ageless Ones do in the Otherworld

each shade and light
each day and night
each time in kindness

  Grant Thou us Thy blessings."

<All sing> "Hail to Ye, Hail to Ye, Hail to Ye!"

A moment of silence follows.

<Lead Celebrant>

"Thine own of Thine own do we offer unto Thee,
  On behalf of all, and for all."

A portion of bread and drink is placed in the offering bowl, or on the earth.

The Lead Celebrant then turns towards his folk, and holding the remainder of the offering forward proclaims:

"Behold – the Gifts of Life!"

<All> "The Gifts of Life!"

The gifts are then shared among the folk.

To bring this discussion to a more mundane – and practical – level, the first thing to consider is what to offer. Historically this may have been all manner of things, including food, such as animals, cakes, wine, or oil, various household items, spoils of war, arts and crafts – in other words, just about anything with any possible religious significance to the human life of the relevant period, including humans themselves.

It should be added in this context that the entirety of human life may – and most definitely was in ancient times – viewed as a matter of religious significance.

Right at first, let us dispose of the issue of human sacrifice. The truth is: yes, the Ancient did it. The truth also is that in modern times the practice is repugnant, and modern Druids most definitely do not do it. Since this article is not intended to be a manual for someone to duplicate authentic ancient practices, but rather on how to evolve and develop a modern Druid practice, with all the healthy scruples that evolution of ethics has to teach us, there is no need to address this topic further, beyond saying that human sacrifice was probably fairly rare in most healthy cultures, and had a theology associated with it that might be interesting for a diligent student of history of religions – but only as an exercise in education and perspective.

Another form of sacrifice that had definitely been practiced by the Ancients – possibly Druids, and definitely related cultures, but is definitely not appropriate for a modern Druid – is the animal divinatory sacrifice. That is, an animal (usually an animal of some specific religious significance) would be ritually killed, and an omen would be read from various aspects of it’s death. This practice is as repugnant to most modern sensibilities as human sacrifice, and, considering that if one feels the need to divine, there are many other, considerably less offensive, methods of doing so, completely unnecessary.

The general issue of animal sacrifice, however, is not as ethically clear-cut as most modern folk would like to believe. If one lets go for a moment of the unfortunately idiotic, and equally unfortunately persistent image perpetuated by entertainment industry of all ages consisting of an Evil Witch cackling over a slain body of someone’s beloved pet, and trying to raise her favorite demon of the month, and focuses on historical aspects of such practice, a few fairly obvious observations come to the fore.

Most animal sacrifices went something like this:

An animal was ceremonially slaughtered by a priest with all due honor. Specific parts of it, usually dictated by the local tradition, were given to the God/s, either by burning, or by another means, and the rest of the animal was consumed by the folk as a communion feast.

Consider the following scenario:

An animal was slaughtered in some anonymous slaughterhouse by a man who probably does not even consider the sanctity of it’s life or death. A Druid buys it’s meat in the local supermarket and cooks it for a special dinner dedicated to the Ancestors. During this ceremonial meal, she, and her fellow Druids, share part of the meal with the Ancestors by setting aside a special Ancestor place setting, and offering a part of each dish to Them.

One might observe at this point that the modern Druid has just, in effect, performed an animal sacrifice to the Ancestors.

One might also observe that the difference consists mainly of the fact that in ancient times, the sacrificial animal would have been slaughtered with honor and ceremony properly acknowledging the value of it’s life and spirit, and probably by a person with some consideration towards not making the animal in question unduly anxious, since it was often considered bad luck for the animal to go to it’s death "unwilling", while in modern times said animal was probably slaughtered in a processing factory, without any consideration extraneous to producing beef.

Truth is sometimes a rather merciless thing. In the spirit of truth, then, one might as well observe that if a modern Druid is not a vegetarian, and observes tradition by sharing her meal with Those she honors in worship now and again, said modern Druid should be very careful when expressing her views on animal sacrifice, lest she engage in hypocrisy – a thing most unfitting to a Seeker of Truth.

And further in the spirit of truth, this line of thinking is not limited to meat-eaters.

As Druids, we acknowledge life as sacred. Death is a part of life – a natural and necessary part, for we, all of us, live off the death of other life – even vegetarians destroy plant life by consuming it. When we give food to the Powers, one of the things we are enacting is this cycle of Life and Death – and by doing so we are acknowledging our part and purpose in the Universe – a purpose that involves both creation and destruction. In this, we are also a mystical Image of the Divine, and the theological importance of this is clearly unavoidable.

In modern times, those who live in "developed" countries can afford a certain amount of squeamishness – and indeed it has become a habit for most, since farmers who habitually slaughter food animals, and hunters who hunt for food rather then sport are rare in modern industrial economies. But squeamishness or not, and until and unless our technology or our demise removes us from the food chain entirely – we still must eat to live, and to eat either we must kill – or someone else must conveniently do it for us, which, after all, removes neither our responsibility for the death, be it animal or vegetable, nor our duty as Druids to reflect upon this truth, in ritual and otherwise.

None of this is intended to promote true ritual animal sacrifice among us – that would be highly inadvisable, possibly illegal, and the practice is simply not politically acceptable, whatever the ethical or religious considerations may be. Though, parenthetically, one might observe at this final juncture that some modern religions existing in industrial societies do, in fact, practice animal sacrifice, and ritual slaughter derived from the practice of animal sacrifice. While some of these cause shudders amidst certain, usually poorly informed, circles, others, such as the practice of ritual slaughter among the traditional Jews, are perfectly acceptable. Food for thought, as it were.

Among modern Druids and similar religions, offerings are usually far less controversial then what is touched upon in the above discussion, and the nature and form of them blends both ancient and modern traditions, as well as the needs to survive in a society that is not always friendly to our religion by avoiding unnecessary controversy.

One of the favorite things to offer – and often the most meaningful to an individual Druid – is the product of one’s own labor. By offering something that we make – be it a work of art, a poem, a crafted object, or, in a private ritual, perhaps even a thought or an emotion, we dedicate not only the object itself, but also that part of our creativity that went into making it. The crafting of a sacrificial object is often a meditative and spiritual experience in and of itself, in both the thought that goes into it, and the work, and the emotional value that we place on it. This kind of offering is most appropriate for a special occasion, and the process can be a very fulfilling, as well as traditionally meaningful, spiritual experience. It also has an educational value in that often when planning and making such an offering we are driven to contemplate both traditional and modern meanings of the work and it's result. In a sense, once again focusing on the process, for instance, we are sharing with the Divine our own Divinity, for in creating something new and unique we become as Those we worship in yet another form of communion. Frequently, when it is suggested that such an offering be made, folks have an initial reaction of "but I am not a creative person, I am not a writer, poet, sculptor, painter, etc..." The truth of the matter is that all people have within them the creative spark. Fertility in it’s most general sense is one of the ways that the Divine manifests in organic life – the ability to bring forth new living beings identifies us with Those we worship, on however small a scale it may be, and in that we as a species are no different from the chipmunks. But we, as a species, also possess a different kind of fertility beyond physical reproduction of our own kind – the fertility of the mind, of the body and of the soul that deals not with begetting and giving birth to human beings, but with begetting and giving birth to things sometimes very different from ourselves, and for the purposes beyond the survival of the species. In this we are expressing our Divinity in a special way, and we are given this gift perhaps precisely because of our ability to recognize it for what it is. Just as a person who does not understand how to love himself has precious little love to give to another, so a person who does not understand her own spiritual and creative gifts which are her inherent right by birth, cannot properly gift someone else. We cannot share that which we do not see. That is why an important part of being a Druid is recognizing our own nature, our own gifts, and the ways in which they make us similar – and different from other species, and from each other. Being creative in making an offering does not mean creating a museum-quality work of art – though certainly if one is capable of such feats, such work would make a fitting offering. What it means, rather, is investing one’s own being in the process of creation. Even in small things it is possible to express one’s creative spirit, and one’s creative inclination – and indeed from a larger perspective what matters is not how large or impressive to other human beings the offering is – what matters is the investment one makes in the offering. It is entirely likely that Those we worship care far more for how much we care, then for how much – or little – we think of each other’s work. Excellence and achievement is a relative thing even in human affairs, and when dealing with the Otherworld, the coinage may be an entirely different affair altogether. Without belaboring the point any further, it is sufficient to say that there are many, many different ways to express personal creativity in making an offering – and all of these ways are worthy, both small and great, as long as the offering is made for the sake of it’s proper ritual purpose, rather then for the sake of personal vanity. Here are just a few ideas that one might try: baking bread or cookies with special ingredients; brewing a special herbal tea for a libation; making a wreath; planting a flower, making and dedicating a particular ritual object, such as a pouch for offering, or a woven basket; writing a song, a poem or a story; putting together a special arrangement of flowers; carving or burning a meaningful design on a peace of wood – all of these have been done, and the possibilities are endless.

Another way of making a personally meaningful offering to offer the labor itself. There are many ways to do work meaningful in Druidic context, such as cleaning and maintaining nature preserves and parks, educating folks about ecology and importance of conservation, volunteering in animal rescue, including both wild and domesticated species, volunteering in human hospitals and old folk homes – all of these things and many more can be offered to the Divine as dedicated work.

Where the form of offering is more strictly dictated by tradition, logistics, or purpose – such as in the case of a group offering that is meant to be shared as food, or when there are simply too many participants to allow for individual offerings during the main Rite – it is important to imbue the act with spiritual meaning by allowing the time for the participants to bless it, either with a moment of silence, where each individual offers his or her blessings silently, or with a community blessings said aloud. For instance, as in the example given above, the Lead Celebrant may lift the libation up, and all participants may say a common blessing, such as: "We bless this offering unto the Kindreds, with love, honor, and gratitude".

When the offering is an actual physical object, there are several ways to deliver it unto the Kindreds. Some of the traditional ways include: burning it in the ritual Fire, placing it into a shaft in the earth, or, if it is a libation, pouring it onto the ground, or sprinkling it onto the altar, dropping it into any natural body of water, hanging it on a Sacred Tree, etc. The particular choice of the method depends on the circumstances of the ritual space, and the symbology particularly associated with the Center of the Rite as discussed in the section on Hallowing, as well as the particular recipient of the offering. For instance, if the Rite takes place around a campfire, it stands to reason to offer into the Fire. On the other hand, if the Center of the Rite is a Sacred Tree, it might make sense to hang an offering of a ribbon, or a necklace, on the tree branch, and to offer a libation at the root of the Tree. If one is offering grain or such to the Nature Spirits, it stands to reason to scatter it on the ground where birds and other critters can get at it, etc. When the Rite takes place indoors, often the gifts are placed into the Offering Bowl, which is later emptied in the appropriate location in accordance with particular tradition and circumstance.

An interesting question which arises in this context is whether or not the object offered has to be destroyed in the process of offering. One view is that since that which is being offered is destined for the Otherworld, it has to "die" to This World, and pass through the change we know as Death to be of any meaning. From this perspective, burning, drowning, or burying the offering is reminiscent of the death rites afforded to humans. Another view is that what we are actually offering is not the physical form, but that which manifests as the physical form – the spirit of the thing, as it were, in which case what actually happens to the object is far less important.

The question becomes even more interesting when the offering is not physical. For instance when a song, or a poem is offered. Some, for instance, burn a piece of paper with the poem on it once it is read in ritual, and never recite it or write it down again. On the other hand, there are those who consider that reciting a poem in a Deity’s honor during ritual is sufficient for the sacrificial act – and feel free to repeat the poem under other circumstances in the future.

The ancient precedent on this issue is not entirely clear. In many cases sacrificial objects uncovered during excavation are broken, or at least given in such a way that they are clearly inaccessible for any future use – as a matter of fact one of the gravest sacrilegious acts possible would have been to take such objects for personal use, since, once given, they were the property of the Deity in question. On the other hand, in some traditions, the entirety of the food given to a particular Temple might have been distributed among the poor. As well, statues, jewelry and other decorative objects, far from being destroyed, often remained to decorate the ritual space. Perhaps, had we a better glimpse of the theological thought of our Pagan Ancestors, the question might be answered more definitively – but as it is, we are left with some admittedly ambiguous physical evidence, some corollary written material – none of which is actually Celtic/Druidic in origin, and our own thoughts.

A simple principle that might serve as a guideline for making a personal decision in this matter is this: What is given is given. The offering is given as a benefit to the Ones to whom it is offered – and therefore once given, should no longer, in and of itself, serve the one who offers it. For example, if one offers a poem, there is probably no need to wipe it off the face of the Earth, as it were, but on the other hand, since the poem no longer belongs to the writer once it is offered, it’s use should be circumscribed by the benefit it affords to the Deity/Spirit – for instance a reading during another ritual might be perfectly appropriate, while selling said poem for profit of the writer is not. In the same manner, physical objects offered to a Deity or Spirit, should never be used in an ordinary manner again. If the object must be destroyed, so be it – or, under other circumstances, the object might remain as a ritual tool, or a decoration used specifically for the ritual purposes associated with the Deity/Spirit in question.

As a sideline, the practice of giving an offering to a Deity/Spirit should not be confused with asking a Deity/Spirit to bless an object as a ritual tool, or a personal token. In the first instance the object becomes the property of the Deity, while in the second, the object returns to the original owner having been presumably blessed by the Deity’s touch – for which act, unsurprisingly, an offering of thanks would be in order.

Finally, having touched somewhat on what to offer, and how, one might ask the question of when – in other words, under what circumstance is an offering appropriate.

In general, there are – and have been – several types of offering:

A general good will and/or duty offering. This offering can be otherwise termed as a "piety" offering as it were – made on the general principle that to give regular offerings to the Kindreds is the right and proper thing to do all other things notwithstanding. It’s a little akin to sending your relatives holiday cards – you may or may not feel any particular "special" call to send a card to Aunt Brigit, but you know she’ll feel bad if you don’t, and you know that if you don’t you’ll feel like a boor – so you do it, and maybe sometimes you’ll include a special note with it, and sometimes you won’t, but you’ll buy a nice card, and you’ll send it, and next time you see Aunt Brigit in person you won’t have to hide you face. In the same manner, in ancient times offerings were made at specific times and locations – such as on holidays, and it was considered a community duty to do so, because the welfare of the entire community was believed to be dependent on the good relationship they maintained with their Gods/Ancestors/Spirits.

A special occasion/need personal offering. An offering may be made for a specific personal reason. For instance, a worshipper may make an offering and request healing, luck in a particular venture, or something else of personal importance. Or, a worshipper may feel the spiritual need to be closer to the particular Power in question, and thus makes an offering. There is most certainly a precedent for this. Archeologists, in some instances, found chips or tokens connected with offering practice, upon which a request for a blessing – or a curse – had been written by a worshipper. This practice even carried into modern times almost unchanged in it’s principle: consider the practice of lighting personal offertory candles in a Catholic or Orthodox Church.

And, incidentally, a candle is a perfectly good offering for a modern Druid.

A thanksgiving offering. When we perceive that we have been given a blessing from the Divine – asked for, or unasked – it is good to acknowledge our gratitude by making an offering, just like we would at the very least say "thank you" to a friend for lending us a helping hand.

Guilt/Reconciliation offering. When we accidentally or on purpose transgress against a friend, principle of Kinship and honor demands that we make amends by both admitting our responsibility and offering recompense in accordance with the sacred principle of exchange. This may be anything from a simple, sincere apology, to a physical restitution. The question inevitably comes up as to how we can transgress against the Divine. Equally inevitably, the answer can take up a book, and will range from "there is no way" to "breaking the Ten Commandments" or some other rules in a religious book. The issues involved in ancient times would have ranged from ritual impurity in accordance to local customs, to certain kinds of murder, to desecration of a Temple, etc. The charge of blasphemy in pre-Christian times would have carried just as deadly a consequence as a similar charge in historical Christian times, though the content of such a crime would have had a somewhat different focus. Additionally, we must remember that ancient Pagans did not quite view the Divine as we do, that is we have a tendency to view the Gods/Spirits that we worship in an essentially beneficial manner, while the ancients did not always have that comfort, which often resulted in a belief that if anything goes wrong, the Gods must be angry and therefore have to be propitiated. In modern times, and in customary TdB manner, we are left with a variety of personal interpretation. Ultimately, if one decides to make a guilt or propitiatory offering, there is hardly any precedent beyond, in some cases, divination to determine the need, and personal feelings regarding the matter. In some cases, though the answer is obvious. For instance, consider the following example:

A Druid who is not experienced in camping safety lights a ritual fire in a drought-ridden pine forest, and burns down half a state park because a stray spark ignites a pile of old needles and he does not have a bucket of water at hand. Obviously this was a stupid act on many levels. For one thing, he broke the rules of the state forest which amounts to abusing the rules of hospitality – when one is a guest, one abides by the house rules. For another, common sense should have told him not to light a fire during a drought among the pines. For a third, even if he was going to do all of the stupid things above, at the very least he should have thought of having a goodly amount of water and/or sand nearby to smother the fire if it gets out of control. But he didn’t think of any of these things, and as a result, many, many trees are dead, probably some animals, the park is unusable to others for some time, etc. Is this offensive to the Divine? I’d say so. If I were those trees, for instance, I would consider this stupid Druid a murderer. And, possible this is an offense against the local Forest Guardians, and the Earth Mother Herself. In general, even if one does not in personal practice address such entities, wanton destruction can probably be safely assumed to be offensive to creative, nurturing and protective Powers, however we address Them. In the case of our stupid Druid, a confession to the authorities, and a long, long stint of planting trees would do nicely as a propitiatory offering, with or without appropriate ritual.

Sharing/Communion offering. This offering usually consists of something – commonly food or drink, but sometimes it may be something more abstract, such as air, or scent - that is literally shared with the Divine. Such an offering is usually blessed, as in the example given above, then the Kindreds are asked to bless it in return, after which the offering is shared between the Divine and the participants of the Rite. Since this manner of offering most directly images the relationship between us and the Divine, and more, traditionally, a substance touched by the Gods carries with it not only the abstract blessings, but also the very essence of divine nature, by taking it in we acknowledge and take in Divinity that is ours by right of life itself in the most direct manner, this kind of offering is perhaps the most solemn and sacred – and indeed has been treated as such by many traditions throughout the ages.

* * *

Now, all of this might seem like an awful lot of offerings. And it can be, if we pay a lot of attention to how our actions interact with the Divine in and out of formal ritual. In a way, even taking this to the most literal level, this is not so bad. A Druid, after all, considers life, in all it’s facets, sacred, and therefore acknowledging this sacrality by habitual tiny rituals and offering is not at all a bad thing, because it reminds us of our continuous relationship with the Divine. A very pious Druid might, for instance, offer something, a object or a praise, for every aspect of her life daily – for instance, as in the example given above, to the animals and plants that die so that we may eat, to Earth Mother for bearing us, to the Fates for bringing her a good mate, etc., in much the same manner as a very pious Jew offers a thanksgiving prayer for all things, even as prosaic as going to the bathroom.

In general, however, most folks, be they ancient or modern, Druid or otherwise, are simply not that pious, unless they choose to be monks. Life is a valuable thing in and of itself – and a busy thing, and one of the things that makes a ritual Sacred is that it is different from everyday life. There are several things to keep in mind in this regard.

One is that taking into account all the theological development that brings us to modern times, it is perfectly sound and appropriate to be occasionally quite abstract with one’s offering. As pointed out above – a thought or an emotion, when acknowledged as such, can be an offering. Another is that it is also appropriate for someone who practices polytheistically, to offer one thing to a group of Powers – after all, if we may share something, why not They? This in fact is often the practice in group ritual.

How literal or abstract, and how frequent, one chooses to make offerings outside community practice is between the individual and her God/s. We all of us approach our personal relationships somewhat differently, and as long as we give our attention to such things in the manner that is in truth appropriate to us, we are on the right path. The task lies in learning what is appropriate to us, and indeed, that is just another facet of seeking the truth of our own nature.

OMEN OF ACCEPTANCE:

Finally, for completeness, it must be mentioned that the Ancients by no means assumed that all offerings they gave would be accepted. Often, especially on formal occasions, an omen would have been drawn to determine whether or not the offering was acceptable to the Deity/Spirit in question, and if the omen was bad, a propitiatory offering would have been given, and then the second offering would have been given for the original intent – until the omen indicated that it was acceptable. Some modern folk continue with this practice, while some do not on the assumption that the Divine is not nearly as capricious, and far more benevolent, then our Pagan Ancestors might have believed, and therefore, if our offering are given in the spirit of Kinship, our Divine and Spiritual Kin will reciprocate accordingly.

This idea of the innate benevolence of the Kindred Deity/s or Spirit/s is fairly modern, as a matter of fact, and developed more fully in the Christian theology. Nevertheless, if one is less inclined to take into account Christian influences, one might also consider that it is probably fairly safe to guess that this procedure would not have been the case for small individual offerings anyway, since a common worshipper would not have had the skill to perform the divination, and his only recourse would have probably been to simply have faith and hope for the best.

In general, proceeding on faith has it’s theological advantages. Aside from the fact that as modern Druids we may not simply ignore centuries of human theological and philosophical development, be it Christian or otherwise, simple logic suggests that when we give a gift with good intent to a person with whom we are bound by ties of Kinship, even if the gift itself may be a bit off mark, the person in question will accept in the same spirit that it was given. By the same token, if we receive a gift from such a person, it is hardly appropriate to peek underneath the wrapper before we accept it. Ultimately, it is a matter of mutual trust – that is we, for our part, must decide whether or not we trust Those we worship to simply accept Their gifts, and have faith that even if the blessings we get may be difficult to understand sometimes, they are given for our benefit, and in time we will see the reason for it.

As an example of proceeding on faith, this attitude may be made explicit. For instance, the Offering Celebrant might add after each offering:

"What is given in love, is received in love, and returned in love."

In the case where a particular practitioner, or group of practitioners wish to take an omen, it should be done right after the offering is given. Even in the case of communion offering, the divination should be done right after the Otherworld portion is given, and right before the participants partake of it. Though there are many means of taking an omen, and some of them are easier to learn then others, it is better not to do this at all rather then rely on an incompetent or inexperienced diviner. Divination is both an art and a science, depending greatly on experience, vision and wisdom, and should not be taken lightly. It is far better to not take an omen at all, then to misinterpret it. This is because when we take an omen, we allow the Divine to speak to us in a very concrete way – and the Diviner becomes an interpreter between the worshipper and the Kindreds. This is a position of great power, great responsibility, and great trust – and it is not recommended here that it be given haphazardly. Indeed, to a certain extent, it might be said that a Diviner stands between the worshipper and the Divine, and every particular worshipper, unless she, herself, takes an omen, must make a decision if that is a place she would wish to give to anyone. It is worthwhile to observe here that willful misinterpretation of omens does happen for many reasons. It had probably happened in ancient times and it certainly happens in modern times, often because the modern psychological mentality teaches many to focus on the "positive" and ignore the "negative", which often results in ignoring a very real dark side of any traditional symbology, or because the diviner in question is simply ignorant of the meaning and not willing to admit to the fact. Divining is not a game, but very, very serious business, and should be treated and understood as such.

Be that as it may – the advice here is if you are going to take an omen during ritual learn a system of divination thoroughly, practice much, study the correlating history and lore, and make sure that you have the aptitude – the vision – for the job first.

It cannot be emphasized strongly enough that it is better not to take an omen at all and proceed on faith, then to take an omen badly.

OMEN OF RETURN:

This Omen of Return is a divination taken specifically to determine what blessing Those we worship choose to bestow upon us in return for our offerings.

As with the Omen of Acceptance, it is a very optional practice, since proceeding on faith is also perfectly acceptable, and may even be preferable, as pointed out above. It goes without saying that all the cautions regarding the importance of a competent Diviner apply here as well.

If the individual or the group performing the Rite choose to take an Omen of Return, it should be logically taken before the blessings in question are formally accepted – that is right before the participants share the communion offering between themselves, for instance, or whatever form the acceptance takes.

ACCEPTANCE:

In ritual context, acceptance is the other – reciprocal - side of the offering. It means simply conscious and voluntary receiving and acknowledging that which the Divine chooses to bless us with – whether it be in response to our prayers and offerings, or otherwise. The meaning of it in connection with the theology of Kinship is addressed above at some length.

The point to make here is that acceptance must me a matter of conscious choice within ritual. Often, in ordinary life, we receive blessings from the Divine without even noticing it – in ritual we are given an opportunity not only to notice, but to choose to either accept, or reject, by a conscious decision. This is important, because once again the availability of the choice underlines our own dignity and value in how we stand with our Divine and Spiritual Kin. Perhaps in principle it would be rude to reject a gift – but the fact that the choice is there raises us above the status of a complete dependant or slave and into the status of a competent adult.

Accepting may be done by partaking of communion offering, for instance, as in the example given above.

Another way to accept the blessings, if the offering is not of a communion nature, is to ask the Powers to bless some specific substance after the offerings are done, and then partake of this substance. The difference between this method and the communion method is that the substance that becomes imbued with the blessings of the Kindreds is not the same as the offering that was given to Them, but rather becomes a separate gift given from Them to us in return for the gifts we gave to Them. While the communion method emphasizes sharing, this method emphasizes Sacred Exchange in a more literal manner.

For instance, after the offerings are given, the Lead Celebrant may take up a chalice of water, raise it high and say:

<Lead Celebrant>

"As we have given, we ask to receive
  Great Kindreds, bless this water, we pray Thee
  That we might partake of Thy gifts.

  So be it!"

<All> "So be it!"

(a moment of silence)

<Lead Celebrant> (holding the chalice towards the folk)
                "Behold – the Blessed Waters!"

<All> "The Blessed Waters!"

The chalice is then passed around and all participants drink of the water.

There is yet another way to accept – a way that does not preclude more explicit examples above, but may nevertheless stand on it’s own – and that is simply to listen.

Listening is an art. Often the most valued friend is not the one who gives the best advice, or is a skilled conversationalist – but the one who listens well. We may talk a lot to our Spirit Kin – we may pray, and praise, and offer, and even occasionally simply babble. But unless we listen – truly listen – and give ourselves the time and the will to listen – we miss the point.

The Divine may speak to us in many ways, and certainly not only within Ritual – it is not our place to limit the power of that which we may only comprehend in part and that all too often dimly. But we do not always listen. Here, in the most sacred heart of the Rite, after all the preparation, after we separate ourselves from our daily cares and worries, after we learn to see beyond the limits of This World – here is the best place to still ourselves, to open our mind, and hearts, and souls, and listen to that small still voice within us, which here, at the Center of All, merges with other voices – the voices of other souls and other places, the voices of the growing grass, and the still stones, the voices of rustling pine needles, and timid footsteps of a mouse under the cover of last year’s leaves, the voices of thunder and the voices of sunshine. Here is the time and the place to open ourselves, and to receive the highest blessing of all – the sense of our part and purpose, both in the world which we inhabit day by day, and in the Universe at large.

Listening may be included in the Rite in many ways, before, during, after, or in stead of, the physical representation of Acceptance. Here is another place where a Divination might take place, and after the Diviner interprets the Omen, the folk might meditate on it’s meaning in their lives. Or, quite simply, the gathering might take a moment of silence.

For instance, consider the following example:

After the participants partake in the communion offering, the Lead Celebrant rings a chime and says:

<Lead Celebrant>

"Let us be silent. Let us be still.
  For the Kindreds speak to us
  In the voice of the wind,
  In the voice of the fire,
  In the voice of the soul."

A moment of silence takes place. After, the Lead Celebrant rings the chime once more.

<Lead Celebrant>

"Blessed is the giver and the receiver,
  Blessed is the given and the received,
  Blessed is our Kinship from everlasting to everlasting.

  So be it!"

<All> So be it!