The Asatru Way of Death

Last week, our kindred here took a massive and damaging body blow.  Sandi, our beloved most elder member, died in her sleep probably early in the morning of August 15.  She had had health problems, but this was still completely unexpected.  She leaves behind a daughter, two sons and at least one grandchild.

 

Sandi and her family are all heathens.  Since the family is still very much in shock, there is a service planned for the 25^th, but even that plan is tentative.  I respect that, but the kindred was hurting and very much needed a mourning ritual.

 

Asatru as practiced in the Americas is still new.  40 years or so is not even a blink of an eye in human history.  I turned to “Our Troth” for a funeral rite, but the organization is still so new that there has not been the need for one yet.  Sven did a little search on the internet and found a ritual, but it needed lots of tweaking to make it into what we wanted.

 

What we wanted was a rite in which we could not only say goodbye to Sandi, but given the suddenness of her departure we also wanted to make sure she was supplied for the journey.  She took care of us for years, with food, her wealth of experience and her indomitable spirit.  Now we could take care of her.

 

Here is the ritual as we made it.  All names are pseudonyms:

RITE OF PASSING

[ Sven lights the fire, blessing the fire by placing the Mjollnir on the fire and asking the gods to use this fire to send our gifts and prayers to Sandi. ]

 

Signy:  We call the gods here today to witness the passing of one of our kin from Midgard. May they all take note that today a great person, Sandi, has passed from us. May Heimdall guide her on her journey across the Bifrost bridge.

 

Sven/Dana:: Havamal 76-77

 

76.
Deyr fé,                                                               Cattle Die
deyja frændr,                                                       Kinsmen Die
deyr sjalfr it sama,                                               We ourselves shall die.
en orðstírr                                                            One’s good name will never die
deyr aldregi,                                                        of one who has taken it.
hveim er sér góðan getr.

77.
Deyr fé,                                                               Cattle Die
deyja frændr,                                                       Kinsmen Die
deyr sjalfr it sama,                                               We ourselves shall die
ek veit einn,                                                         This I know will never die                  
at aldrei deyr:                                                      the fame of the dead’s deeds
dómr um dauðan hvern. 

 

Bob: Heimskringla - Yngling’s Saga #8

 

Odin established the same law in his land that had been in force

in Asaland.  Thus he established by law that all dead men should

be burned, and their belongings laid with them upon the pile, and

the ashes be cast into the sea or buried in the earth.  Thus,

said he, every one will come to Valhalla with the riches he had

with him upon the pile; and he would also enjoy whatever he

himself had buried in the earth.

 

Xerxes:  Let us now toast Sandi and the deeds that made her great.

(Each person takes the horn and says why Sandi meant so much to them.)

 

Signy- Sandi has left us.  We will not let her travel empty-handed.  Who has something for Sandi to take with her on her journey?

 

Each person comes up to the pyre. To each person Steph says “What gift do you bring so that Sandi will be well supplied?” The giftgiver then responds by holding up whatever object it is they have brought to leave with the deceased and explains the significance of the object.

 

Clarisse- Sandi, may you fare well. We thank the gods for their presence may they and the spirits of the land, the Landvattir, keep this place safe from all ill wishers.

 

Signy: From the gods to the earth to us / from us to the earth to the gods, hail! this rite is ended. But the folk go on.  [While pouring the libation in the fire or over the howe.\

 

[People are encouraged to remain in frith and speak stories and rememberances of Sandi.]

 

This ceremony ended up being very well timed.  Bob and Clarisse had Jul gifts for Sandi.  Bob had already purchased an amber pendant for her, and Clarisse had started knitting a shawl on Monday.  On hearing that we were having a pyre on Saturday she tried to finish the shawl, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Dana had a small bag with travel runes.  Sven had a mjollnir pendant and I had ears of corn, beer and a box of chocolates.  Xerxes (believe it or not, his real name is just as peculiar) had written a note. 

 

Being a Lokisman, Sven got the pyre going really, really hot.  At the end, nothing was left of any of the offerings beyond a very small bit of melted metal.  As the law of Odin cited in the second reading demanded, we buried the ashes and hope to erect some kind of runic monument in the future.

 

Sandi has left us, but she has gone equipped with something to eat, something to drink, something to keep her warm, runes and amber.  We hope she is enjoying the company in Fensalir. 

 

Hail, Sandi!  Hail the Idises, to whose ranks she has graduated!

 

 

Sorrow Throughout the Nine Worlds

I spent the weekend thinking about a heathen response (not “the” heathen response) to the unimaginably terrible shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary in Connecticut this past Friday.  I wasn’t sure if I should even attempt to write one, because I intended this blog to specifically not be a current events blog.  Still, I’m a theologian by training, and this is where the rubber hits the road where religion is concerned.

This is a pastoral question.  What can one say about a senseless massacre in which 20 completely innocent children were murdered, along with 6 adults who were by all accounts doing everything they could to protect their charges?  How does one make sense of that?

The Asatru answer is, “You don’t. “  I turned to the Eddas to see what I could find there, and the passages that seemed to echo the situation in Newtown were those concerning the death of Baldr. 

What we see in this story is a community in mourning.  Baldr, the pure and beautiful son of Odin and Frigga, has been senselessly killed.  There’s lots of blame to go around.  Loki killed Baldr for reasons unknown, or Hoedur killed Baldr without Loki’s assistance because he wanted Nanna, Baldr’s wife. Frigga should have made the mistletoe swear not to harm Baldr.  Finally, why did Baldr allow people to throw arrows and other missiles at him anyway?  Was he that proud of his newly-acquired Superman powers?

None of this makes one blessed bit of difference because Baldr is dead, and he’s not coming back.

The community of Aesir and Vanir come to the funeral.  Odin whispers something in Baldr’s ear before they lift him into the boat that will be his pyre.  Nanna dies or commits suicide because she cannot live without her husband, and she is laid beside him to be cremated.  Thor raises Mjollnir to bless the funeral pyre, but a dwarf thoughtlessly walks in front of him so Thor kicks him into the fire in his rage.

This is significant.  Thor, who is known for his holiness, who is bringing the sacred to the funeral, strikes out in anger and another life is lost.  To my thinking, this is something that happens to a lot of us religious folk and clergy.  In the face of intense sorrow we strike out at people over stupid things at the precise moment when we’re supposed to be holy and priestly.  This is a call for us to keep a close eye on our reactions, because if the mighty god Thor can lose it out of grief, so can we.  Grief is more powerful than Thor.

It is also more powerful than Frigga.  Frigga attempted the impossible when she asked for every being in the nine worlds to swear not to hurt her son.  She attempts it again when she has Odin send Hermod to Hel to see if he can bring Baldr back from the dead.  Frigga attempts the impossible a third and final time when she asks every being in the nine worlds to weep for Baldr, the condition for his return.

But again, none of this makes one blessed bit of difference.  Baldr is dead.  He’s not coming back.  Frigga is a mother, though, and one cannot think less of her for trying.  What loving mother wouldn’t attempt the impossible, multiple times, for the sake of her child?

Grief, anger, unanswerable questions, the wish of a parent to move heaven and earth in order to have their baby back.  The mourning in Asgard over Baldr mirrors that of Newtown, or any place that’s seen its children die long before their time.  If we look at the story for comfort, we won’t find any.  The events surrounding the death of Baldr show us that the gods aren’t any more immune from death and sorrow than we are.  We can point to the details on how all of them react to tragedy and see ourselves in the mother who is made irrational by grief, the angry father who will have vengeance at the cost of others’ suffering, the clergy doing or saying something stupid in the heat of their own emotion.  We have gods who understand what we’re going through because they’ve gone through it themselves.  Blessed be.

At this point, someone is probably thinking about how Baldr is going to come back and take Odin’s place after the Ragnarok.  Someone else is also thinking about how Baldr is drinking mead with Hel in her beautifully decorated hall.  Assuming that these two details are true, how likely is it that reminding Frigga of that would comfort her?  Baldr may be content and safe where he is, but Frigga can’t see him or talk to him or share confidences about the future with him.   When Baldr does return to Frigga, it will cost Odin’s life for him to do so.  Frigga is a wise and loving goddess, but she is also a very sad one. 

This brings me to the only advice I can give about the massacre or any other comparable tragedy.  If you wouldn’t say it to Frigga about Baldr, don’t say it to another human about whatever loss they’ve suffered.  Bring a casserole and offer to be there.  Otherwise, take a page from Frigga’s book and remain silent.