All One Family
The first of three harvest festivals, the greater sabbat of Lammas celebrates grains and marks the beginning of the harvest season. Also called Lughnasadh after the god Lugh, Lammas is a time to think about our hopes and fears. We remember Lugh, the Sun God, because it is on this day that he lays down his life for the sake of harvest. Lammas is both a time to celebrate and a time to mourn and remember.
Lammas is a festival honoring both fire and water. Fire symbolizes our survival in the physical world, providing warmth, cooking, protection, and the bright spark of imagination and intelligence. The sun is central to the growth and ripening of the crops. Fire was traditionally used to bake breads, make preserves, and bubble the cauldron to make fermented drinks like cider and ale. Water symbolizes our survival in the emotional and psychic worlds. It provides healing, transportation, and hydration for humans, animals, and crops.
Harvest time means endings. Lugh is cut down like the grains and descends into the earth and into the womb of the Goddess, preparing to be reborn. The God sacrifices himself for the greater good, knowing he will be transformed.
While we enjoy the harvest of early fruits and berries, grains, and vegetables, we also start to think ahead to winter. Days are growing ever shorter, and there is a cooling at night. The sun sets earlier and it is suddenly dark.
Even if we live in a city, we contemplate storing some of our abundant crops away. People buy seasonal produce and “put it up.” In rural areas, pickling and making jams augment what can be frozen. Because of the duality of Lammas, celebrating harvest and mourning the loss of the God, it is a good time to both count our blessings and share with those in need. When we put up our fruit and vegetables, it is easy to get into the Lammas spirit of sharing by sending a jar of harvest riches to family, friends, or neighbors.
We think about sacrifice and recognize we must begin to prepare ourselves for what lies ahead. Our teens start to think about going back to school, and they begin the task of preparing themselves for that big transition. They realize that they will soon have to sacrifice their “freedom.”
The sobering reality of school and the creep of the darkness is enough to inspire a fantastic feast, one that reminds us to really enjoy all that we are blessed with, even as we look ahead to what is guaranteed.
Practice: Feast on Life
One of the easiest ways to celebrate Lammas with your teens is to plan a feast that incorporates both fire and water. It could be a big beach celebration that involves swimming, sunshine, and beach volleyball, or a barn dance with twinkling lights, cold drinks, and a corn roast. If you live in the city, maybe you will simply plan a community picnic in a local park enjoying the sun and a juicy watermelon. Make the gathering a potluck and suggest local harvest as the theme.
Because we are celebrating abundance, let your teens bring a friend with them. In the ideal world, you can gather with your friends, other families with similar-aged kids, and the teens.
This summer I had the pleasure of gathering with three other families. We met at the beach in the afternoon. With lawn chairs, beach toys, and tons of food, we were equipped to enjoy sun, water, and sand.
There was a combined total of ten teens and kids aged 7 to 14. Despite the age differences, they played well together, enjoying noisy games of tag and Marco Polo in the warm water. The adults lazed on the beach while enjoying conversations, laughter, and the chance to watch our teens being kids for a while.
When several families come together, there is always an abundance of food. Because I live in a rich agricultural area, I took burgers, sweet corn, and a home-baked blueberry pie, all produced locally. Other people brought roasted chicken, new potato salad, grilled zucchini and summer squash, coleslaw, fresh rye bread, two kinds of local cheese, maple grilled peaches, fresh raspberries with whipped cream, and locally produced wine. The feast was truly a feast of local agricultural abundance and the richness that evolves when families and friends come together.
After dinner, most of the moms played in the water with the kids. I was thankful to have some fun time with my daughter. I got to enjoy some “kid time,” knowing that this too is coming to an end as she grows into a young woman.
The park warden warned us that the sun goes down quickly at this time of year, so we packed up all our stuff while we had light. Then, calling the kids out of the water, we stood on the shore as the sun slipped down over the horizon, and suddenly it was dark.
Stretching out the celebration, we went back to one family’s farm. The adults sat around the bonfire talking, laughing, drinking wine, and singing along to the strummed guitar. The kids gobbled s’mores, and then they went bravely into the dark vineyard to play “manhunt.”
There is so much to teach our teens. But if I can teach my daughter to be present, appreciate her friends, share the bounty, and enjoy the good times, I’ve given her the gifts of Lammas. Recognizing that we are rich with family, friends, sustenance, and joy, we have what’s needed to survive the dark times ahead.
And without having to coax, teach, or tell, I know my daughter got the lesson.