The Great Rite in Token
The Great Rite is most often performed in token, usually in conjunction with the ceremony of cakes and ale (or cakes and wine). The Great Rite in token serves as the symbolic representation of two forces coming together, and most often involves the athame and chalice (with the chalice containing wine or some other liquid). I have a lot of friends who call this rite “the knife in the cup,” and this representation of the Great Rite is so widespread that it’s become a nearly iconic expression of Wiccan-Witchcraft.
Traditionally, many Witch tools were categorized by what type of energy they were believed to contain. “Aggressive” tools such as athames and swords were said to have masculine energy, while more delicate tools such as the chalice (or cup) were said to have feminine energy. So the knife in the cup was seen as the symbolic union of male and female energy, with all the accompanying thoughts of male-female fertility. As gender identity has become recognized as more fluid over the last twenty years, there are many Witches who have grown uncomfortable with the knife in the cup.
Witchcraft is an inclusive spiritual tradition. It does not discriminate and accepts all sorts of sexualities and gender identities. If someone is uncomfortable with the athame and chalice being used in the symbolic Great Rite, they are free to discard and/or modify it. Witchcraft is always about what works for the individual Witch or coven. People who discard the cup and knife aren’t fundamentally changing Wiccan-Witchcraft, and they deserve to be supported.
However, an athame is not a penis and a cup is not a vagina. When my wife plunges her athame into our coven’s chalice, I don’t picture a vagina being penetrated by a penis in my mind’s eye. I simply see two forces coming together. It’s true that for many people the athame is connected to the God and the chalice is connected to the Goddess, but that’s only one interpretation. The great thing about symbols is that they can be interpreted in a whole host of ways.
Female-male copulation is a part of nature though, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with celebrating that. Most of us have a mother and a father after all. And there’s also nothing wrong with celebrating female-female and male-male copulation either, for they are also a part of nature. There are also humans who are completely asexual and organisms that reproduce asexually. There are all sorts of sexualities, and I believe that all of them are expressed in the Lord and Lady (and all that lies between them).
I find it useful to get past the sexual symbolism that’s often incorporated into the Great Rite and get down to what the rite truly expresses. In ritual, the symbolic Great Rite has a multitude of meanings and is used to celebrate several different though related things, such as the following.
The Union of Two Forces. For a long time this was often expressed by the Goddess and God and implied sexual intercourse, but any two aspects of deity work here, along with more metaphorical concepts such as sun/moon, earth/sky, land/sea, and night/day. Any two things that come together and create something new are worth celebrating. And anytime two hearts unite, they create a new relationship and a new love.
The Natural World. Everything that we see around us in nature essentially comes from the combination of at least two forces. The Grand Canyon, for instance, was shaped by water and eroding rock. Without each force, that wonder would not exist, and everything that grows in our backyard is a combination of various forces and elements.
I’ve heard the line “worlds are born” used in conjunction with the symbolic Great Rite, and it’s an expression I absolutely love. Our earth is just one piece of a much larger natural universe, and one that wasn’t created by sex. We aren’t here strictly because of human procreation; we are here because stars exploded and worlds were born. When we enact the symbolic Great Rite, we are connecting to the things in our backyard and to the vast cosmos above us.
The Triumph of Life over Death. In my coven’s Great Rite ceremony, we use the line “Life is more than a gift; it is a promise. All that dies shall be reborn.” For me the Great Rite is a reminder that no matter how bleak the world may look in January, life will eventually return. Nature teaches us that there can’t be new life without death, and that both stages of existence are important natural processes.
I will die, and you will die, but because of the Goddess and God we will eventually be reborn and return to this world that we love. When we enact the Great Rite we are acknowledging that to live is also to die. The natural world is full of death, and so are many of the myths that make up the Witch’s Wheel of the Year, but in both instances life does eventually return.
The Blessings of Fertility. Despite humanity’s best efforts over the last two hundred years, the earth remains a remarkably fertile place. Humans produce nearly four billion tons of food every year, and that is in addition to what is produced by the very fertile natural world around us every day. 224 The fact that most of us, at least in the industrialized world, are well fed and have enough to eat is a true blessing. It’s easy to simply equate fertility with the creation of babies, but fertility encompasses more than our ability to reproduce; it’s linked to the ecosystems that sustain and maintain our lives on this earth.
When I enact the symbolic Great Rite, I stop to think of all those wheat and corn fields out in the Midwest, California’s Central Valley (where most of my produce comes from), and England’s apple orchards, which produce the hard cider I love so much. The world is a very fertile place and it’s a fertility that should be celebrated.
Cakes and Ale
In many Witch circles today the symbolic Great Rite is performed in tandem with a part of ritual known as cakes and ale (or cakes and wine). Because the Great Rite in token usually involves wine (or ale or some other beverage), the two rites dovetail nicely and even share some of the same sentiments. While many Witches quickly rush through cakes and ale, I find it to be a vital and important part of coven ritual for a variety of different reasons.
Cakes and ale involves the sharing of food and drink, most often near the end of ritual. While the ceremony is called cakes and ale, any sort of food stuff works as a “cake.” Over the years my coven has used all manner of baked goods as cakes. Cookies, rolls, bread, and cupcakes all come to mind, along with fruits and vegetables. For ale we’ve used wine, cider, mead, beer, milk, and sparkling grape juice. Any kind of liquid can be used as ale, though wine is probably the most traditional. A completely alcohol-free cakes and ale ceremony is acceptable and is a must for covens with recovering alcoholics. (I have a great deal of sympathy here since my own mother is an alcoholic.)
At its core, cakes and ale serves as a celebration of the abundance and fertility of the earth. We are able to eat cakes because the earth provides us with grain and all the other things necessary to turn that grain into something edible. Most of us also see cakes and ale as a tangible gift from the gods.
Because they are a gift from the gods, cakes and ale serves as a moment of thanksgiving during Witch ritual. We thank the gods for what they’ve given us, and our thanks help to sustain them in turn. When handing out cakes and ale, I’m reminded of all the other gifts that my Lord and Lady have given me over the years (my coven, the Craft, and dozens more). We should be thankful for what we’ve been given, and cakes and ale provides an opportunity to do just that.
The Pagan group the Church of All Worlds has a saying that I’ve always found applicable to cakes and ale: “Water shared is life shared.” While my coven’s cup is generally filled with wine instead of water, the sentiment is still valid. Groups that share food and drink with one another generally stay together. Sharing cakes and ale is a way for a group to bond and forge the ties that will keep them together.
The phrase cakes and ale is a traditional English one that means “the good life,” 225 and there are few things better in life than enjoying good food and drink with chosen family while in a magickal space. The phrase first showed up in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night in 1602 in the line “Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” Because of the deeper meaning of the phrase cakes and ale, I find it preferable to cakes and wine, though the latter is nearly as common in witchy circles (with wine also being more common in my own chalice).
Cakes and ale serves another purpose in ritual: it’s a great way to ground. After an hour of raising energy and praising the gods, putting some food and drink in the belly is an easy way to come back down to earth, so to speak. Eating and drinking help reconnect us to the physical world, which is so easy to forget about while in the magick circle. In the few instances when I’ve left a ritual without receiving cakes and ale, I’ve found myself a little out of sorts.
Before being consumed in ritual, the cakes and ale should be blessed by whoever is leading the ritual. When with my coven, I generally use the beverage that was activated in the Great Rite and then pass that cup around the circle. At large gatherings I use individual cups for everyone, blessing them with my athame, which still usually has a bit of the liquid held by the cup in the Great Rite. My wife suggests passing around the cup before the cakes to avoid food particles getting in the wine.
Traditional Witch Cakes
There is no one “traditional” Witch cake, but there’s one that comes close. In Charles Leland’s Aradia there are instructions for a Witch’s supper, with some rudimentary guidelines for specific Witch cakes. The exact recipe is not given, but the cakes should be made of “meal and salt, honey and water.” 226 Incantations to say over the meal and salt are also given, along with conjurations for the deities Cain and Diana.
The most well-known conjuration from Aradia is to be said immediately before the cakes are baked:
Conjuration of Diana.
I do not bake the bread, nor with it salt,
Nor do I cook the honey with the wine;
I bake the body and the blood and soul,
The soul of (great) Diana, that she shall
Know neither rest nor peace, and ever be
In cruel suffering till she will grant
What I request, what I most desire,
I beg it of her from my very heart!
And if the grace be granted, O Diana!
In honour of thee I will hold this feast,
Feast and drain the goblet deep,
We will dance and wildly leap,
And if thou grant’st the grace which I require,
Then when the dance is wildest, all the lamps
Shall be extinguished and we’ll freely love! 227
Parts of this invocation are quite lovely, but the idea of baking “the body and the blood and soul” of Great Diana has always struck me as veering dangerously close to ideas about the Catholic Eucharist. I know very few (if any) Witches who believe that eating a ritual cake counts as eating the soul of a deity, but that doesn’t take away from the fun of chanting Italian Witch incantations while baking. It’s also possible that the invocation is simply equating eating grain with eating the soul of the earth, which to me is far less creepy than “body and blood.”
The threats toward Diana are out of place in most Witch traditions today, but such refrains are still common among many Catholics. “Saint shaming” is a very real practice, and effigies of saints are sometimes sat in corners, drowned in water, buried, or placed upside down if devotees feel that the saint is not working hard enough for them.228 It’s possible that threats toward Diana stem from this tradition.
While Leland did not leave us with detailed instructions on just how to make a Witch cake, it’s easy enough to make cookies containing salt, honey, water, and meal. Here is a recipe to make something equivalent to what the Italian Witches of 1899 might have been eating.
Ingredients
1 tablespoon honey
½ cup white or red wine
½ cup brown sugar
1⁄3 cup oil or melted butter (I prefer butter)
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons spring water
2 ¼ cups flour (I’ve seen some recipes that call for half this amount of flour, substituting an equal amount of oatmeal.)
You can also include any spices you might like, such as ground cloves, cinnamon, ginger, or anise seeds. Sugar granules can also be sprinkled on the tops of your cakes if you so desire.
Instructions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Mix all the ingredients together minus the flour. Slowly begin to add in the flour while saying:
I conjure thee, O Meal!
Who art indeed our body, since without thee
We could not live, thou who (at first as seed)
Before becoming flower went in the earth,
Where all deep secrets hide, and then when ground
Didst dance like dust in the wind, and yet meanwhile
Didst bear with thee in flitting, secrets strange!
I conjure thee so that I might make a cake in honor of Diana,
She who is the Great Lady and Queen of the Witches. 229
Once all the flour has been added, add any extra spices, and knead the dough on a well-floured surface such as a cutting board.
Knead for ten minutes, adding extra water or flour as needed. If your dough is too dry, add a few drops of water. If it’s too gooey, add some more flour.
Drop about a teaspoon of the dough onto a well-greased cookie sheet and shape into a crescent moon with your hands.
Before placing your cookies in the oven, say one final conjuration:
We did not bake the bread, nor with it wine,
We did not cook the honey with the vine,
We baked the body and the blood and soul,
The soul of Diana who makes the years roll.
She knew neither rest nor peace,
In cruel suffering no torments cease.
Until she granted what we most desired,
The arch of magick growing ever higher.
We begged it of her from our very hearts!
And in that grace was granted by her mighty arts.
In honor of thee we hold this feast. 230
Bake the cookies for about twenty-five minutes, turning them over once about halfway through to prevent scorching on the bottom. If you want to sprinkle a little extra sugar on top of them, do so when you flip them over.
This is a very simple recipe and can be easily adapted. For sweeter cakes add a bit more honey or sugar. I also like to use hard apple cider instead of wine in the fall. Any sort of water can be substituted for spring water, but I like using natural sources when I can. And the cakes pack a bit of an extra punch when water from a sacred spot is used in their creation.
Libations
Because the gods share with us, we also share our cakes and ale with them. This is known as a libation, and most covens keep a libation bowl on their altars to collect offerings for the gods. In my coven we reserve at least one healthy drink of our ritual wine for deity, along with a couple of cakes or slices of bread. Post-ritual we take that libation outside and leave it near our lemon tree as an offering to the gods and the fairy folk who reside in our backyard.
Libations serve as a way of offering thanks to the gods for all they have given us. They are a token of our appreciation, but they power the gods as well. Back in 1954 Gerald Gardner wrote that “our gods are not all-powerful, they need our aid. They desire good to us, fertility for man, beast and crops, but they need our help to bring it about; and by our dances and other means they get that help.” 231
For many Witches it’s strange to read that the gods have limitations, but just like Gardner, I believe they do. Just as there are limits to what human beings can do, I believe the natural world imposes some limitations on the gods as well.
Presenting the Lord and Lady with libations empowers them. The gods don’t consume their cakes and ale like we humans do, but I believe that they receive the essence of that food and drink when we offer it to them, and through that essence they receive power. Libations aren’t the only way to empower the gods, but they are an easy way to do so.
Libations can be offered to the gods in several different ways. The most common way is to leave whatever offering you have outside in a rather secluded place. Many of us don’t have a large backyard (or sometimes any yard at all), and that’s just fine. Bushes, tree trunks, grassy patches, and bodies of water are all fine spaces for libations. In some traditions it’s considered good luck to leave your offerings at a crossroads or other liminal space, but what’s most important is to leave your libation safely and discreetly.
In many ancient pagan cultures fire was used as an instrument to send offerings to the gods. It was believed that the offering was being accepted if the smoke from the fire went straight up into the air and that it was being rejected if the smoke did not. When I’m at an outdoor festival, I will often pour my libation onto a fire, but it’s far less practical to do this when I’m at home.
Another alternative is to throw your libation into the garbage, sink, or compost pile after an appropriate amount of time. If this is my only alternative, I like to leave my libation upon my altar for at least an hour or two post-ritual to ensure that the gods receive the essence of what I’ve left for them. I believe the gods “consume” my libation when I take it outside, so if I have to dispose of my offering indoors, I believe it’s important to wait a while before doing so.
There are many covens who won’t consume their cakes and ale until they have been offered to the gods and placed in the libation bowl. This is not necessary, but I think it shows deference and respect, feelings the gods certainly appreciate. When we operate in sacred space, the gods are often equal partners in our magickal endeavors, so sharing the food and drink they helped us to receive is the least we can do.
Most covens mix their offerings of cakes and ale in the libation bowl, but my wife frowns upon this practice. As she’s said to our coven many times, “Would you like to eat bread soaked in wine? I didn’t think so.” So instead of putting our wine into the libation bowl, we leave a little bit at the bottom of our chalice and then take it outside to give to the gods. When it comes to libations, there are no absolute right or wrongs. Just show some respect and be thankful for the blessings in your life.
Symbolic Great Rite Rituals
Though the Great Rite in token is symbolic, that doesn’t mean it’s devoid of magick or energy. Because the Great Rite is a celebration of creating something new, the people participating directly in the rite should charge their athames, cups, or whatever other tool they will use while performing it. When I enact the symbolic Great Rite, I actively focus on opening myself up to the energy of the natural world around me. I then channel that energy and place it in whatever tool I’ll be using. When that energy mixes with the energy of my High Priestess and the wine in our cup, we’ve created something new.
I’ve heard some people call the symbolic Great Rite “drink and dunk,” but it’s no empty gesture; it’s about creating a new energy and getting in touch with the powers of creation. The Great Rite doesn’t have to involve a huge amount of energy, but it should never be treated as a mundane act.
The Great Rite can be performed alone, provided the individual Witch has access to at least two different tools. The first version of the Great Rite I ever enacted was as a solitary Witch at my dedication ritual. I simply used one of my fingers as an athame, dipping it into the bottle of wine I had taken with me to that rite.
The Basic Great Rite/Cakes and Ale
Tools Needed: Athame or wand, cup full of wine or some other beverage
High Priest: Life is more than a gift; it is a promise. All that dies shall be reborn.
High Priestess: And now we celebrate the most ancient of magicks, the magick of joining.
High Priest: The athame is to the sky
High Priestess: As the cup is to the earth.
The High Priest plunges their athame into the cup.
Both: United in life and abundance, blessed be!
High Priestess (holding the cup up in the air): May the Lady and Lord bless this drink as they have blessed this coven. So mote it be!
Another covener takes the plate of cakes and holds them up between the High Priestess and High Priest. The High Priest dips his athame into the wine, and upon removing it, lightly touches each cake with the athame.
High Priest: May the Lord and Lady bless these cakes as they have blessed this coven. So mote it be!
The High Priestess and High Priest drink from the cup and then pass it clockwise to the other coveners. Then they each take a cake before passing the rest to the other coveners. Libations are put in the libation bowl. Cakes and ale continues for as long as the High Priestess wishes.
This version of the Great Rite comes directly from my coven’s Book of Shadows, and when I originally wrote it I thought it would be temporary and that I’d eventually come up with something better. Seven years later this is still the version I’m using, and for good reason. It hits all the high points for me: triumph over death, rebirth, joining, and the joy of creating something new. Several years ago my entire coven started saying it aloud with my wife and me while we performed it, which is a great way to involve an entire group in the Great Rite.
The line “The athame is to the sky as the cup is to the earth” is one that can easily be amended, depending on what works best for the Witches in attendance. Some covens might want to use the more traditional sounding “The athame is to the Lord as the cup is to the Lady.” There’s no right or wrong here, but only what’s best for each group or Witch.
The Great Rite/Cakes and Ale, All Chalices Edition
This version of the symbolic Great Rite requires three different chalices, along with three different humans to hold those three cups. (I will use High Priestess 1, High Priestess 2, and a High Priest in this version.) Because this rite involves pouring the contents of two chalices into an empty one, I like the two glasses to be filled with a different liquid. This can be something simple, like water and wine (which is how the Greeks drank their vino), or it can be more elaborate, like champagne and orange juice (which is especially appropriate if your ritual is in the morning).
High Priestess 1: Within our hands we all hold the power of creation.
High Priestess 2: Now let us celebrate that power with the greatest of rites,
High Priest: While remembering that all who die shall be reborn.
High Priestess 1: We now celebrate the original magick,
High Priestess 2: The magick of joining.
High Priestesses 1 and 2: When two become one
The two High Priestesses pour the contents of their chalices into the empty cup held by the High Priest.
High Priestesses 1 and 2: And worlds are born.
All: May it ever be so.
The High Priest then holds up his now full chalice and asks the Lady and Lord to bless its contents.
High Priest: Gracious Goddess and Horned Lord, we ask that you bless this drink. May it serve as a reminder of your power and grace. Blessed be!
High Priestess 2 then takes the tray of cakes and lifts them up in front of the High Priestess 1. High Priestess 1 then dips her fingers or athame into the High Priest’s chalice and blesses the cakes.
High Priestess 1: Gracious Goddess and Horned Lord, bless these cakes and may they ever connect us to you both and the beauty of this world. Blessed be!
The High Priest hands the wine to the High Priestesses, who then pass it along to the rest of the coven. The cakes are passed out in a similar manner, with cakes and ale lasting for as long as the coven desires.
224. “Key Facts on Food Loss and Waste You Should Know!,” Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, accessed October 13, 2018, http://www.fao.org/save-food/resources/keyfindings/en/.
225. The Phrase Finder, https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/257200.html.
226. Leland, Aradia. Opening of Chapter 2, page 136 in the Phoenix Publishing edition.
227. Leland, Aradia. Page 140 in the Phoenix Publishing edition; quote from the original Leland translation.
228. Rollin, Santa Muerte, 50–52. I love this book, and I love Santa Muerte, and she’s been especially helpful to me while writing this book. (I’m also far too frightened of her to ever engage in saint shaming.)
229. Adapted from Aradia, with a lot left out. It’s a really long invocation!
230. Adapted from Aradia by me, because I like everything to rhyme when possible.
231. Gardner, Witchcraft Today, 91.