Honouring the Ancestors

By Mark Williams, from www.groveofthestars.org

 

'Hail to you, my ancestors and kindred many, you whose breath I now breathe, you whose bodies are mingled with this most sacred soil, you of my bloodline, to you be blessing and honour...'

SO I BEGIN my day with prayers to my ancestors, at the shrine in my house. In this essay, I want to take the time to explore my own beliefs about honouring the ancestors, my experiences of the presence of their Spirits, and the creation of a shrine in their names.

I didn't have a shrine to my ancestors until this year, I am ashamed to admit. Indeed, though I read in Bobcat's books repeatedly that Druidry is an earth and ancestor based spirituality, I failed miserably to translate that insight into anything practical. 'Oh, my room's too small for another altar. Oh, I haven't got any photos of them. Oh, I don't even know their names...' Such were the excuses! I kidded myself that I was suitably honouring them with some fine-sounding words and bread at Samhain, and an extra nightlight on my altar during the winter months. Oh dear. It nagged at my conscience, like a troublesome tooth.

And then I was flung into my fascination with the tradition of the Orishas, through my devotion to the goddess Oshun, the shimmering, sensual Lady of fresh waters. In that tradition, the honouring of the ancestors is absolutely central. Their great proverb is: Ancestors before Orisha. That's to say, you honour the ancestors and take your problems and prayers to them before you take them to the divinities (or let's just say 'to the Orishas', because Orisha people think of them as being like great angels under the One God, Olodumare.) Ancestors before Orisha. I see no reason why this insight shouldn't be applicable in Druidry too.

Practitioners of Santería (the form of the Yoruba religion found in Cuba and semi-syncretised with Catholicism) in particular have a way of creating an ancestral altar that I've found extremely useful. It strikes me that at the moment there's not much good written guidance to creating a Druidic ancestral shrine, and I learnt a great deal from the rather more prescriptive Cuban way of doing it. I must emphasise that what I write here is NOT the last word - I am not a Santería initiate. But it is garnered from having spoken to those that are.

An ancestral altar is referred to as a boveda. Santería devotees believe strongly that good spirits are attracted to white, so the altar will have a white cloth, and white candles. There is also a great belief in the importance of water, water representing life and refreshment in the Yoruba spiritual system. So glasses of fresh water will be placed on the boveda. The usual number is seven, each glass representing a different cadre of spirits: spirits that love me, spirits in need of love, and so on. The glasses are arranged in a ring, with one glass in the centre, which is for one's own spiritual Guide. Very often a crucifix will be placed in this glass or balanced on it, to invoke God's blessings on the shrine. (I imagine this is not a feature most Druids would want to replicate, though my very Catholic ancestors love the idea and there's a bit of a fight going on about it....more of that later.) On my own altar I have placed a white candle at the centre, with three glasses, one for my mother's kin, one for my father's kin, and one for such spiritual Guides as I may have. The glasses have several purposes. First, they symbolically refresh the ancestral spirits. Second, their clarity is a metaphor for clear communication between the dead and the living. Third, they reflect and scatter the candlelight, filling the altar with glinting light. The effect is beautiful, and unfortunately photographs don't capture it. The water should be refreshed regularly, and of course the glasses get limescale so you have to rub them with lemon juice when you wash them! Santeros also recommend that there be flowers, especially roses, though carnations are thought to be 'absorbent' of spiritual vibrations.

Such altars will have photos of the dead on it, and will be prayed over on a regular basis, often with Catholic prayers and a long prayer in Yoruba called the Moyuba. I will not give this here, but suffice it to say that it involves the scattering of water and prayers to the Orishas and the Spirits of the dead. Often cigar-smoke will be blown over the altar, and the Spirits will be offered rum and black sweet coffee. Every so often, the practitioner will cook their dead a feast, which should be placed in white dishes. Incidentally, two things: first, tradition dictates that salt drives away spirits, so food for the ancestors should never be salted. I personally abide by this one. Second, one should use a different set of dishes for the ancestors, and should not feed the living with the same dishes as the dead. In practice for me, this means a pretty, old white saucer.

My version of a boveda has cigars, rosemary (for remembrance, though in summer there are white roses), cigars and the glasses. I expected my ancestors, being Scots, would prefer whisky and tea to rum and coffee, but no. They made it very clear that rum and coffee did very well, thank you. I visit the shrine every day, which is not difficult as it's at the foot of my bed. (Yes, my room is rather cluttered with various shrines and altars.) Tradition dictates that you should not have your ancestral altar in the room where you sleep or have sex, but in a shared house sadly this isn't possible. My ancestors have to struggle with the indignity of being covered with a cloth at night, like a budgie. As soon as I move, they will get a cupboard on the wall that can be closed.

So how do one's ancestors make their presence felt? If you're not one of the [un]lucky psychic types, how can you become aware of them?

I can only speak of my own experience here. The first thing is to spend time at the shrine and simply listen, I've found. They speak in silences. Presences and answers to your questions suggest themselves. You'll be browsing the market and a voice says inside: 'Put that on the altar.' Go to them with your worries and problems, ask for help and advice. I always conclude my ancestral prayers with the following:

That seems to work well. Working regularly with your ancestors means that they are much more obviously present when you invoke them during ritual. And they get to meet everybody else's ancestors, which a Santería practitioner once told me they like. (He advised a friend and I to take our spirits along to a séance, as the equivalent of 'a good night out' for them.) It is good to read out their names three times, too, saying something like: 'I honour my father's mother [name] [name] [name]...' I always end by saying, 'I honour all my kindred whose names are lost to me.' Another way to do this is to list languages or racial groups if you are of mixed heritage. I sometimes say: 'I honour all my ancestors who spoke English, Welsh or Gaelic, or any other tongue...'

Aside from the deepening connection of prayer and communion, there is also the following oracle, called the chamalongas, which is - I think - another Cuban technique. It is a method of divination used for contacting the dead can asking them what they would like. (In Santería, initiated priests use it to ask if the Orishas are pleased with offerings made to them. To the uninitiated, it is said that 'only' the dead speak through the chamlongas.) The oracle consists of four small discs of coconut shell, with one light side and one dark side. These have been specially consecrated with liquid made from pounding sacred herbs in water whilst singing certain chants, and the blood of a feathered animal, such as a rooster. I think we can live without that kind of affair in Druidry, thank you very much. But I have seen this done, and it is remarkable.

The practitioner lays out a straw mat, with a white candle and various designs chalked onto it. There is also a bowl of fresh water, and he or she sprinkles some onto the mat to 'refresh' the reading. Usually there is also a bottle of Florida Water, the ubiquitous citrus-scented cologne used as a cleanser in Santería. Cigar smoke is blown over the chamalongas (my details here are hazy). A question with a yes/no answer is asked, and the reader takes two discs in each hand, clicks them together and drops them on the mat. Now of course there are five possible combinations, and I give my - again hazy - recollection of them down below.

o o o o

Four whites up. ALAFIA. Good fortune, the blessing of the Spirits. 'Yes, probably'.

o o o •

Three whites, one black. OTAWE. A 'weak yes', which may become a 'strong yes' with a spiritual cleansing. Or the ancestors are neutral. The topic of questioning may not be the topic of true concern.

o o • •

EYIFE. When two white coconut and two black are turned up it is good. The response to your question is "Yes". Eyife is the strongest and most definite answer.

If the two white coconut fall on each other (touch or lay on each other) it is called 'Ire' which is especially good blessing.

o • • •

OCANA SODE. When three black and one white coconut come up the answer to your question is "No".

The reader should reformulate the question so that it can be answered. This is an important cast! First, it says you must give an offering to your Spirits for a positive outcome. I tend to give more coffee or rum.

Second, you must keep changing the question until Spirit gives you the root problem. There is a warning here of bad magic or a negative person who is causing problems. Keep asking the Spirits until you discover where the problem lies. Once you have a 'Yes' answer the issue is over. The root problem must be dealt with.

• • • •

OYEKU. When four black sides come up it is a warning, apparently. The reader should immediately ask what to Spirit an offering must be given to in order to 'kill' the sign - or not allow misfortune to befall the client.

My source tells me: 'This is often an indication of witchcraft or dead spirits surrounding the client.' Make of that what you will.

It is doubtful that this situation can change. The answer to your question is "No". The reader should reformulate the question so that it can be answered. Once again the root problem must be identified and a solution uncovered. I tend to take this to mean, 'No, we are seriously not happy.'

You might want to think about adapting this system. You might not. Friends of mine in particular have used it with great success. My own Catholic ancestors were less happy, and requested Holy Water when asked if there was anything they wanted on their shrine. Indeed these days every so often I go into a Catholic Church and light candles for their spirits, which seems to please them greatly, and say Catholic prayers over the shrine every Sunday. The shrine seems to brighten with the delight and satisfaction of my ancestors’ spirits. But I draw the line at the crucifix on the altar! A Druid could easily make a set of these discs from yew wood (the tree of eternity, the tree that goes beyond death) or willow. I'd be interested to hear what results people get. It is not a tool to be used lightly and disrespectfully, as it gives startlingly clear, consistent answers. You may also find it amplifies any 'atmosphere' around your altar.

Working with my ancestors has been truly a profound step upon my path. I cannot believe that I had not done it before. This Samhain, when I poured rum into the fire in the honour and called their names, there was a wash of recognition, the blessing of their presence, there, with me, in that winter wood. I could feel the hum of spirit that I know to be my father's mother, and that of my mother's father, and all my kindred, stretching back. I knew them and they knew me, because I had worked on our relationship.

I hope you find some small inspiration in what I have written here. May your Spirits bless you and guide you in turn, as mine have done.

Mark Williams
April 2006.