When you hear the word “paganism”, you probably think of
stuff like witches, tarot cards, upside down stars, and some seriously archaic
“B.C.” cultures. While none of that is necessarily out of the picture or
incorrect, I would like to take a little time and space here to discuss a type
of paganism – or neo-paganism, rather – called Ásatrú.
Ásatrú
[Ow-sa-tru] is the belief in the old gods of the Germanic and Scandinavian
Northmen of the first millennium (and beyond); you probably think of them as
Vikings. The word Ásatrú comes from the Old Norse language and means “one who
believes in the Æsir (the gods of Asgard).” In order to discuss Ásatrú as a
religion, I feel I must first provide a brief overview of some key tenants of
the religion. Firstly, Ásatrúar (those who practice the religion) believe that
the universe is separated into nine realms or worlds: Asgard (the realm
of the Æsir, gods of war, life, and greater things), Vannaheim (home of
the Vannatrú, the “lesser” gods of more mundane things like agriculture,
natural aspects, and fertility), Midgard (the realm of men, i.e. Earth),
Swartalfheim (the realm of the dark elves, or dwarves as we call them), Alfheim
(realm of the elves), Jottunheim (the realm of the giants), Hel
(the realm of the dead, not Hell as in Judeo-christian theology, rather a place
where normal people go when they die, ruled by the goddess Hel), Hel is located
on the icy shores of Niflheim (this is the icy of the two primordial
elements), and Musspelsheim (the fiery primordial realm). All of these
realms are inhabited by their own peoples, about whom there are hundreds of
thousands of myths and legends, some of which are important parts of Ásatrú and
some, merely amusing tales for bedtime. I wish I could go into depth about some
of these tales, but I haven’t the time nor anywhere near the space to do them
justice.
I suppose
the best way to give a brief explanation of Ásatrú is to recount my own
experiences with the religion. I was raised a Presbyterian Christian; my family
are all very strong in their faith in the Christian God and his Son, as was I.
It was around the age of seventeen that I discovered Ásatrú through the brother
of a teammate. I’d always found the old Norse legends about heroes like Sigurd
and the gods like Thor, Odin, and Tyr to be fascinating and fantastic, so I
eagerly accepted an invitation to go with my teammates brother to a Moot
(monthly gathering to do ritual) on the first Saturday of the month. It was
like nothing I’d ever experienced. We (myself and a surprising number of Ásatrú
who’d also come) gathered around an antler and bone covered stone altar flanked
by on either side by two roaring fires, all in a clearing in the woods under
the stars. Unsure what to expect, I paid very close attention to the goings on
as a loud and primitive tattoo of drums began to sounds. As the drums
continued, a priest walked out of the trees, his face and bare chest streaked
with ash as he shouted Old Norse prayers to the four directions and to certain
gods as he began the Moot. Following some more traditional speech on the gods
and a more contemporary sermon on self-reliance, a bowl of mead (honey wine),
was passed around and everyone took a drink. I was struck by the amazing energy
I felt during Moot; it was like a primeval force held everyone there together
in some regard, as if some connection stronger than any I’d felt had been
forged. Following Moot, we left the woods and went back to the field where the
longhouse was and gathered around a huge bonfire for what is called Symbal ([SUM-ball]
which is a ritual during which everyone makes a toast in a circle three times,
the first to a god, the second to an ancestor or hero, and the third is a boast
or a vow of some deed). During Symbal, everyone was more relaxed and it turned
riotously funny at some times and touchingly somber at others as people told
stories of past exploits or toasted their dead grandfather.
So what
draws someone to something as antiquated as Ásatrú, you may ask? I can only
speak to my experiences on the matter; it’s different for everybody in every religion.
Since that first Moot I’ve been to two more as well as other gatherings including
work parties and the like. I’ve always been met with nothing short of kindred
spirits and what I can only describe as the best of Southern hospitality. I
realize that these experiences could be had quite literally anywhere under any
circumstances, so I’ll try to explain a little about Ásatrú itself that drew me
to it.
Firstly, as
many of you know, I, as a VMI Cadet, hold honor and integrity in the highest
regard. This is perhaps the biggest reason that I felt drawn to Ásatrú, the
fact that, in its culture, there is nothing higher than honor, than being able
to do what you say and keep your vows. I love the idea that men are accountable
for what they say and do, regardless of circumstance, and that someone is
expected to maintain their honor no matter what. The second, but equally
influential aspect of Ásatrú with which I feel a strong connection is the idea
that a man mustn’t be passive in his doings. That is to say that if a man wishes
to accomplish something, he can’t accomplish it by sitting around and wishing
it to happen, he can’t (although I think it helps) just pray for something to
happen or for the gods to do it for
him, he has to go out and fucking do it for himself. The gods
smile on those who serve themselves, on those who are strong and have a strong
will. This concept aligns very closely with my own feelings on the subject; I
believe strongly that those who are passive in their lives and wait for things to happen are sheep and
doomed to be devoured by the wolves who are aggressive and go out and make things happen. Thirdly, and the
last to be discussed here, are the strong bonds of family and kinship that are
found in Ásatrú. Ásatrúar believe very strongly in one another and will do
anything to help or protect their family and friends. This is something I can
relate to very well as an American, a Cadet, and as a man in general. I mean,
even after you’ve lost all you have in this world, after everything changes,
your family is still there with you and nothing can change that. I would gladly
kill or die for any of my family and those friends of mine who have come to be
my brothers.
These are
just a few broad reasons why I’ve started down the path of Ásatrú. Short of
going into deep philosophical and spiritual talks (which may well follow,
pending the interest here shown), I can’t get too intricate and maintain a
level of comprehensible meaningfulness, as a cursory brush over anything of a
religious nature does it no justice. At any rate, I hope this has been at least
mildly interesting and informative. As I said, I may bang out some more
specific things, perhaps on certain gods themselves, specific aspects of
Ásatrú, etc.
This has
been a poorly organized and hasty exposé on Ásatrú by Sam Crawford.
Rah
Virginia Mil.
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