Last night I hosted a going away party for one of my very close friends. He will be leaving in two days for basic training, and before the year is up, he will most likely be deployed to Iraq. Throwing this party made me reflect a lot on what it means to serve others. Yes, it was great to spend the night with some of my friends, but with all the cleaning, setup, baking, and take-down, it was also a lot of work. By the end of the night my head hurt, my feet ached, and I had to hold my eyes open with toothpicks. Amazingly, though, I went to bed feeling better than I had in a long time; although you never would have been able to guess it by looking at me. In my opinion, this was an act of real service--I did something draining and uncomfortable for the benefit of someone else.
Real service does not make us feel great. In fact, it usually leaves us feeling (and looking) like crap. It puts all of our abilities to the test, and it slowly weans us into reality. Yet, no matter how much it hurts, there is a certain satisfaction in helping others. Something deep inside you warms and crawls to life--your hearth fires are stoked. It all sounds so fluffy, but there is a certain fluffiness about it. It is that deep sense of hope. You stop and wonder, "Wow. I just did that, and if I can, anyone can."
We have to share this world. Why not make it easier and better for everyone? All it takes is one person, one more snowflake to start the avalanche. What have you done today? What can you still do?
10 January 2010
07 January 2010
Why I Like The Pentacle
I have often described myself as a Celtic Reconstructionist, or more accurately, an Irish Recreationist. I find great pleasure and satisfaction in connecting with the Divine through the pre-Christian spirituality of
One of the most common explanations of the pentacle that I have come across is that it represents the five Elements: Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Aether. However, since they are of Greek origin, I do not employ these elements in my practice. Even when I used to work with these elements, I did so superficially and never felt any real kinship with them. It would seem that using the pentacle in this respect, then, would be meaningless for me. Indeed, that is what I thought, but I have found the truth to be quite the opposite.
Though on the surface this explanation of the pentacle links it with the five classical elements, there is a deeper meaning in this explanation—a meaning that stretches far beyond the individual facets of the Elements. In much metaphysical thought, as well as in classical scientific and philosophic thought, the five Elements combine to make everything in the universe. It is by means of the infinite combinations of Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Aether that all things take on form and thus life. So what does it mean to describe the pentacle in terms of the Elements? I would argue that to do so is not to describe the pentacle as a representation of the Elements but rather to explain it as a symbol of the whole. This is what I found to be one of the deeper meanings of the pentacle, and this symbolism is in no way opposed to the Irish system.
In Irish and other Celtic mythologies, the whole is often represented by the number five. Therefore, in
Another way I tend to view the pentacle is as the combination of two symbols: the sword and the cauldron. The sword is made up of the two lower points and the upper point, so that the resulting image looks like a blade. The cauldron is made of the two side points and the lower middle point. This understanding of the pentacle strikes me in many ways. First off it reminds me of the great Undry of the Dagda, a sign which suggests that I will be provided with whatever I truly need in life. On top of this, the sword rises from the cauldron, reminding me that, while I will have what I need, this does not mean that I will not have to struggle and fight for it—it is the age-old rule that the Gods will only help those who help themselves.
A second interpretation of this sword-cauldron symbolism that I sometimes employ is the transcendence-cum-immanence of the Divine. The cauldron, as the provider of earthly needs, represents the immanence of the Gods. They work with us here in this world, and they are evidenced by various aspects of Creation. For example, Bóann is evidenced by the
The sword, on the other hand, governs the laws of life and death, laws which are not chosen in this plane of existence. In this way it points (quite literally) to the transcendence of the Divine. Though the Gods may manifest themselves (or allow themselves to be manifested) in the physical this is only a part of them. The Divine is so much more than what we come to know and interact with while alive. Though infiltrating the physical, it ultimately reaches beyond mundane confines.
In this sword transcendence-cum-immanence understanding of the pentacle, the symbol again stands for the whole. Immanent and transcendent, the Divine pervades all.
So those are some of my thoughts on the symbolism of the pentacle. Although it is not a native Irish symbol, I still believe that, under the right context, it is completely compatible with Irish spirituality. As a representation of the whole, I have adopted it as a symbol of the Sovereign Goddess, the Great Spirit which permeates Creation. She is the All, and I cannot imagine a better illustration of her power than the pentacle. And though I once tried to discard the symbol of the pentacle from my practice, I now feel that its message is so intertwined into who I am that to do away with it would be to give up a piece of myself.
[1] Rees, Alwyn, and Brinley Rees. Celtic Heritage: Ancient Tradition in
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