Lammas

Last week as it was getting on towards Lammas, I hopefully went online in search of folks to celebrate with in my new town. Turns out the Pagans in Ithaca have thought this through and have a web page for folks like me. I got myself signed up for the yahoo list, and sure enough in came an open invitation to celebrate Lammas with a coven out in Freeville. By coincidence, last week I had a fresh bought of existential angst, and in trying to remember how I usually deal with my angst, realized I hadn't been to church since my ministry partner and I led that big multi-media intergenerational service back in June. I was glad to see that this Lammas ritual was open to children, because I hate leaving my son to go worship. If I'm going to be apart from my son on an evening or weekend, it should involve margaritas and live music. I want to go to rituals where a mom can be a mom.

My son was in kind of a bad mood come Sunday, so I packed up all his favorite snacks and CDs for our drive into the country. "I'm not going to know anyone" he worried. "Me either" I said, "We will have to make each other brave." He brought teddy along for extra courage.

We were doing great until the ritual actually started. While we were calling the directions and casting the circle Nick starts to say loudly "This is SO boring" and many variations thereof. For a moment I was angry. It reminded me of all those times that I've been leading worship, and it's my son who doesn't seem to know how to act during a service. Then it hit me. How would he know? Every time he's been to a service I've been leading it. He's never had his mom sit next to him explaining what on earth is going on, or even why we need to be quiet. At that last service in June, Nick walked right up to the pulpit while I was preachifying, and tugged on my robe to ask if he could go back to the childcare room. I said afterward that when I'm "telling a story" he needs to stay in his seat and not come talk to me. He said "Really? Why?"

So it was time for a new paradigm for experiencing worship together. I put aside our 2 lawn chairs, and spread out a blanket on the ground. We snuggled in close together, and very quietly I explained some of what was happening. Finally it was time to make corn dollys to burn. Quiet time was over and now we could really talk about stuff. They provided straw and yarn and little wooden stars. It was the stars that got his attention. He REALLY didn't want to burn it though. I figured there were enough for us to have 2, one to keep and one to burn. We talked about wishes, and gratitude, and leaving things behind. I won't tell you want all we said, because I DO try to give him a little privacy. He asked me to put his dolly on the fire (star tucked inside) and I said what he had told me to say. I realized that often as a parent and educator I try to encourage young children to wish for noble things, the kinds of mature things that adults wish for. Again I had an inner shift. I should honor the things that ARE most important to him right now in his own image of his life. Like Playstation for one. When I mention Playstation, he gets a real picture of what gratitude is. It has been a solace and a joy to him all summer. Ritual is a space where you get to feel your actual feelings. If you are bored or angry, this is a time when you can be honest about that. When it's my turn I can imbue my dolly with lofty adult things, including my own adult anger.

After the ritual I walked him around to all the altars, and we tried to guess which one was which. I was surprised to find that Water is still the West out here (I figured it was a Bay Area/ Pacific Ocean thing.) And then he was ready to GO I mean GO. We went to meet the family for Sunday Night BBQ at a local bar, and he was MOST glad to see them. But he held onto that star. And all on his own, he had an idea that he could put glitter on his star and use it as a wishing star to keep forever. So of course we did (I got one too once he had this great idea) And when we woke Monday morning, we both felt lighter. And Nick was talking about his star, and about wishing for things, and letting things go that you don't want anymore.

Which all goes to show: almost every ritual has a couple of boring parts, but sometimes they work their magic anyway.