A Greater Sabbat and an Earth Cross-Quarter Day

Northern Hemisphere February 2nd  

Southern Hemisphere July 31st

Seasonal Relevancy

Spring is on its way at last and we can very clearly see that the days have become longer and the warmth and light of the sun is returning. Imbolg comes from the ancient word meaning 'ewe's milk' and reminds us that this is lambing season. In addition, the grass is beginning to grow again and the spring flowers are just beginning to burst forth from the ground.  

Mythological Relevancy

Imbolg is the time of the quickening. The baby Oak King is growing and the Goddess is a maiden once more. This Sabbat belongs to the fire Goddess Brigid, who presides over healing, the well springs and the hearth.  

Popular Traditions

Because this time of year is synonymous with new life, new ideas and new beginnings it’s particularly relevant for initiations and dedications. Even more, it is a purifying time of year when we should clear out the old things that have held us back and make room for brighter and healthier behaviours and actions for the growing season ahead.

Make a Brigid's Cross from straw, hang it on your front door as a protective charm and burn the old one from last year. Conduct rituals with candles to invoke the fire Goddess Brigid, and to symbolise the light of the longer days.  

 A Contemporary Imbolg Ritual

The altar is prepared as usual. A cauldron with at least one stone in it for each person present sits in front of the altar. Each covener should previously have been asked to bring a food donation of one tin or packet of non perishable food item with them. Also have a space, box or bag in front of the altar for people to offer this food donation. Cast the circle as normal if there are no visitors present, otherwise, omit the circle casting.

The ritual leader addresses those gathered; “Welcome to all those who have gathered here today to celebrate the festival of Imbolg. Traditionally this is a time of year when we should be spring cleaning our homes and repaying old debts in preparation for the coming light of spring. Making sure we have completed these tasks allows us to be more emotionally free and prepared to take on the new challenges of the growing season ahead and thus develop ourselves along with the new light of spring.”

“In these modern days of isolation where we don’t always know, let alone see, our neighbours, today we will be focusing on community and how you can contribute to the people around you as you prepare to bring in that light of Spring.”

“The “Stone Soup” fable is a simple story that shows how a group of people can work together to support each other and bring joy and a sense of belonging to one another. The story goes like this...”

Some one reads the following fable out to the group.

A weary traveller, in the depths of winter, came into a dark village. His feet were sore and his stomach was empty. He walked, door to door, with nothing but a single copper coin to his name, and asked the villagers if he could buy some of their food. At each door, a gaunt villager told him that they were starving, unable to spare even a morsel of their winter stores.

Finally, the young man sat down in the centre of the square, aware of the eyes peeking at him from shuttered windows. He reached down, brushed some snow from a small rock beneath his feet, and lifted it. With a start, he leapt to his feet, looked up to the shuttered windows, cleared his throat and made an announcement. "You silly, starving people! How can you hide behind your walls, desperate for food when you have perfectly good stones like this laying all around you? Does but one of the women here have a good kettle she can loan me? I promise enough stone soup to feed her whole family if she loans it to me for the day!”

The washerwoman had a kettle frozen behind her house, a large kettle last used for stew at Christmas time, too large to use for her family’s meagre meals and too small for laundry. She volunteered it, and the young man dragged it, full of snow, from the outdoor hearth it had occupied for a month to the centre of the square. Villagers, bored in the dark winter, gathered around to help the man start a fire and melt the snow and ice in the pot. They were all convinced he was nuts, but helped him nonetheless. It was a sleepy village, and his obvious lunacy was worth a few cold feet to observe.

Once the snow had melted, he lifted the stone high for all of the villagers to see and plopped it into the pot. "Stewus blueus magic rock," he chanted, "give us soup within this crock!" He walked three times around the pot and took a spoon someone handed him and dipped it in. Ever the diligent cook, he tasted the water and its mild aftertaste of Christmas stew and shook his head. "It’s bland," he told them, "If only I had a bit of salt."

The butcher told him he had salt sitting in his salting pot, the remnants of salting the midwinter's catch, which had run out the week before. It was brown and hardened into one lump, but he’d give it to the man for free.

The man took his offer gladly, and added the brown lump to the pot. He again took a sip. "the magic is working" he told his audience, and, indeed, there was a faint smell of food coming from the pot. He sipped the soup again, and made a face. "It’s too sweet!" he said. "If only I had the ends of some turnips, or some radishes to give it some bite!"

Two women looked about and then went into their houses, coming out with half-rotten vegetables. The man carefully cut the rotted parts away and added the vegetables, greens and all.

There was no mistaking that it smelled like food now. The man tasted the soup, and said "It’s missing something" and handed the spoon to the brewman’s wife, who nodded, then scurried into the closed tavern, returning with a small burlap bag of barley. As she dumped it in, the wife of the mayor objected. "You can’t have barley in soup without parsnips!" she declared, and produced a bunch of limp, greying parsnips, which she handed to the man, who skinned them, chopped them and plopped them in.

Another woman objected as well, adding a fat, dry onion to the broth, and another, and still another, each adding the small secret ingredient that made the soups they made at home ‘perfect’.

Within an hour, the smell of the soup filled the square, and the people came from every crevice and corner with a bowl. The mayor of the town hailed the wanderer as their saviour and put him up in his own house after he and the villagers had filled their bellies with delicious, if odd-tasting, stone soup.

At this point, the ritual leader begins a discussion by suggesting that listening to that story leads us to consider a whole bunch of things. What might that story be teaching us? Perhaps it teaches us about community contribution, a spirit of togetherness, compassion, and that each little bit helps. Sometimes we need one person to start the chain of events off and it’s often easier to ignore someone in need than to provide help.

The ritual leader asks those gathered; “Who or what is community? Is it the people around where you live? Is the community your work mates? Is it your coven/group friends? Perhaps it’s the Pagan community? Or is the community your social group?”

The ritual leader addresses those gathered; “Like the kettle of stone soup in the story, here you will find a cauldron loaded with different stones. Stones and rocks are bounty from our Earth and each stone brings with it different Earth memories and contributions from Gaia. Each stone here is therefore a gift from Gaia and these gifts are yours to use wisely and appropriately. Each stone here represents a contribution that you can make to your community.”

“Take a moment now to think about who your community is and what contribution you can make to it. It may be that your contribution is; to mow your elderly neighbour’s lawn, to wash your friend’s/partner’s/parents’ car, to visit that friend in hospital, to make the time to bring morning tea in for your colleagues at work, to donate a rug to a charity”.

“When you have decided who your community is and what you can contribute to it, take a stone. Then spend a few moments to send your thoughts of contribution into that gift from Gaia.”

“Now that you have all sent your thoughts into your stones. What do you think we need to do now? We need to enact the thoughts we just created.”

Someone else addresses those gathered; “Gaia, Mother Goddess of our planet, let these stones before us be the catalyst that brings about our intention. We ask that you hear our thoughts and help us create the reality. Help us donate our energies, our actions, ourselves to those around us, who mean so much to us and who help make us who we are. Let these stones remind us of our pledge to our community and ensure that we live up to our pledge. So mote it be.”

Yet someone else addresses those gathered; “As we go home to our families, to our friends, our work and our lives, let each of these stones remind us that we pledged here today to make a contribution. We pledged to offer something of who we are to help someone else be who they are. So mote it be.”

The ritual leader addresses those gathered again; “Imbolg comes from the ancient word meaning 'ewe's milk' and reminds us that this is lambing season. Ewes provide us with warm woollen clothing and with food. To honour Imbolg’s ancient link with food and to further honour our commitment to community as in the Stone Soup fable, we have elected to donate some of our food to the larder of those less fortunate than ourselves. In sharing our food with others, we honour the Gods and Goddesses and the community of which we are part.”

“Please take a moment now to place your food offering before the altar. As you do so, take a moment to remember those who are not always able to provide food for their own families”.

Consecrate and then have the cakes and ale then close the circle. Follow up with a feast during which everyone considers those less fortunate than themselves who may be unable to feast. 

Smiles and blessings, Amethyst