Category Archives: st4r.org

Raising Up the God of the Vine

In about three weeks, we’ll be doing our devotional at Pantheacon! If you want to help get it going, there are a few things we could use help with:

napa-vinyard

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A Prayer to Cthonic Dionysos

I wrote this for a friend of mine who was working with Dionysos in the Underworld. With their permission, I’m sharing it here, in case anyone else has a need for it.

corykian_cave2c_interior_aspect_from_cave_entrance Continue reading


Thiasos Bakkheios Through the Year

The ritual year for Thiasos Bakkheios starts with the Winter Solstice. The calendar of Attica (which many Hellenic reconstructionists use to set their ritual year) begins with the first new moon after the Summer Solstice, but I’ve found that scheduling with modern folks works better if the calendar starts closer to the secular new year.

napa-vinyard

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We Need a Sacred Bartender

Update from Thiasos Bakkheios:comic_history_of_rome_p_223_bacchanalian_group_from_a_very_old_vase
We recently had another chanting and drumming and (some) dancing devotional. I’m going to report on it as best I can. Only some of these are my personal recollections; certain gaps in my memory had to be filled in with information supplied by “dude, you were so wasted” stories people told about me the day after.

The plan was to sacrifice food and drink to Dionysos and His friends and relations, to build up the energy and the ecstasy with chanting and drumming, and to ask the god if He’d be so kind as to send us some sign in our dreams as to how we can best make our individual relationships with him stronger. Continue reading


Indigenous People’s Day

Thoughts I had on Indigenous People’s Day, yesterday:
I was born on land disputed by the Iriquois Confederacy and the Cherokee, land where the Shawnee moved when the whites forced them out of Virginia.
 
I grew up on the land where the Baxoje (Iowa) lived, where once the Dakota and Sauk roamed.
 
I live now on land fished and farmed by the Olohne, and where the Muwekma and others still live.
 
The land I live on, from which I derive my life, is Native land, shaped by Native lives, soaked with Native blood.
 
I remember. I will not let others forget. I will pay the debt incurred by my white ancestors, as best I can, to the descendants of those they wronged.

Mythology is a Finger Pointing at the Moon

The stories of the gods are not the gods. The descriptions of the gods given in those stories are not the nature of the gods. They are fingers pointing at the moon.

moon-map

This is not the Moon.

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Half a World?

There are days, and then there are days, but each day is one.

A day can begin with a phone call that frightens you and makes you feel helpless. That day can continue with doing what little one can to comfort a loved one being assaulted by fear, and then go on to comforting another loved one who has just run out of cope.

That same day can include the smile on a homeless man’s face when I can spare a couple of bucks instead of a handful of coins. It can include a beautiful drive with the sun setting on the right and the moon rising on the left, holding the broad earth and the blue sky between them, and moving me to praise the earth, sea, and sky, the lights of the heavens, and the dead who sleep in the earth. Continue reading


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a biannual journal of polytheism and spiritwork

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