Solstice Sermon
(art by walkerminion)
Hunting the wren
Oh where are you going, said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you said Festel to Fose
We´re off to the wood, said John the Red Nose
We´re off to the wood, said John the Red Nose
And what will you do, said Milder to Moulder
For we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
We´ll shoot the cutty wren, said John the Red Nose
We´ll shoot the cutty wren, said John the Red Nose
Oh how will you cut him up, said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
With knives and with forks , said John the Red Nose
With knives and with forks , said John the Red Nose
And who´ll get the spare ribs said Milder to Moulder
Oh we may not tell you, said Festel to Fose
We´ll give them all to the poor, said John the Red Nose
We´ll give them all to the poor, said John the Red Nose
Although this song is often associated with the Peasants Revolt of 1381, it is a relic of a much older ritual. The Wren is the Little King of the Waning Year. He is found hiding in a holly bush by Robin Redbreast, who kills him.
On Yule, the Mother has come fully pregnant. Her time is at hand and as the old Sun dies into the longest night, she births the new one. The Holly King, her lover, is not pleased by this reminder of his brother and rival, the Oak King.
Mother informs the Holly King it is time for him to go.
No king wants to lay down his crown, and he damnds to know why he must leave and who will make him. Life is beautiful. He loves the cold and frosty stars, the icy wind, the way the snow blankets the world.
Mother smiles and tell him all times change and if he does not step down for the child she carries, even he will die forever. Without the light of the Sun, there will be no growth, no plants, only ice and snow forever. Even his green leaves will shed and die. Everything comes and everything goes. And all that dies is reborn. But without the Sun there will be no rebirth.
She lays his hands on her belly and the Holly King feels the life within her. The warmth comes out even through her body and he melts, tears on his face like dripping icicles.
From out of the growing light of the East comes a young and handsome man. He steps to his aged brother and lays a warm hand beside his face. "It is time."
The Holly King nods, knowing that in time all things are reborn, even he. "I do this for the people, that they may have light and harvest again."
"We thank you for keeping the land safe during the time of Darkness." The Oak King draws forth a sickle and decapitates his brother.
Mother picks up the severed head of her lover and kisses it. "Go into the west. It is the Oak King's time. The wheel always turns."
She covers his body with a blanket of snow and steps into the dawning light of the newborn Sun with her lover, the Oak King.
~
In this, the darkest season of the year, we are hard pressed to remember things change, they always change. The warm days of summer seem far away. The garden is dead and brown. Even here, in the south, we picked the last tomatoes a month ago. The sun, on days he decides to come out, is pale and weak and far away. He lays abed long and retires early, and we want to do the same.
But now, he has been reborn. The days will grow longer. Night will come later and day will come earlier. We may not see immediate life and growth, but soon. In six weeks, early green shoot will start to appear. The trees will bud out, in ghostly haloes of yellow and red and orange and green.
The wheel always turns. Light goes but it always returns. Carry the light with you today and into the fading darkness.
~
The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
The rising of the Sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry pipes
As we all sing with cheer.
The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood
The Goddess bears the Solstice Sun
To allow our hopes to bud
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The Green Man and the Holly King
Are always welcome here.