The Velveteen Altar

The Velveteen Altar

When I thought about this project I wanted to pick things that weren’t status quo. I attempt to be organized so I wrote down “a” words for two weeks, ones I felt compelled to write about and I selected my two. This was not one of them, but it niggles and digs at me all the same.

Altars. As defined by dictionary.com
“1. an elevated place or structure, as a mound or platform, at which religious rites are performed or on which sacrifices are offered to gods, ancestors, etc.

2. Ecclesiastical  communion table.

3. ( initial capital letter) Astronomy . the constellation Ara.

4. (in a dry dock) a ledge for supporting the feet of shorings.”

Oh, now there are some tasty morsels to dig into, aren’t there? A constellation? How perfectly sublime. My favorite is the dry dock definition. Such a figurative definition for us to latch onto, should we so choose. A supportive structure for our shorings. I do so love that one.

Then of course we go to the more religious ones. A communion table. A platform for rites and sacrifices.  These smack of control. Sacrifices that we determine, and so being aren’t truly sacrifices. Rites we govern, or worse, we glean from someone else and don’t truly feel ourselves. It’s so common in the pagan community to see people reading in a staccato measure from a piece of paper while moving things around according to the instructions in the manual. This kind of altar brings to memory so many rites and passages I’ve attended that ring hollow. Impersonal tables set according to a drawing in a book. It lacks heart and depth, replaced by fear of taking a wrong step or saying the wrong word. It pains me to see this happen because it’s so unnecessary.
See…and I’m going to admit this much to the admonishment of some, but it’s okay. Really it is…
Here it goes…

I don’t like altars.
Not.
One.
Bit.

This entire thing of requiring one place to worship, a specific area that is consecrated just isn’t natural to me. This is a human need, not one of gods or nature. We create god/desses in our image because, honestly, it’s all we have to draw on. This does not apply solely to physical imagery though. We, as people, love the idea of attention. Even the meekest person will secretly feel themselves go a-tingle and perk up at the idea of someone loving them unconditionally, doing their bidding, worshipping them. So of course we put that desire from within ourselves onto the needs of the god/desses. We, humans, need consistency and some predictability. If you know that every ritual you will go to the same exact spot, it makes life easier. It used to be the sacred alters, groves and worship houses aligned with something special- from Stone Hedge to the Mayan Temples but over the years it’s become a habit to have them in our homes or tossed up from some awkward sense of pagan propriety. It’s tradition. It’s history. It’s human.

I use the words nature and natural a lot. You are going to see it over and over because that is where my heart lies, where my faith rests and where my spirit soars. I understand nature. There is a chaotic order to it that resonates within me. The heady, musty smell of earth while feeling the cool granules between my fingertips is intoxicating. From the caress of a gentle summer breeze lingering my cheek to the bitter sting of a winter wind, I am entranced by every breath. The nurturing and destructive dichotomy of fire is perplexing and mystifying, even as I am buoyed up and nourished by the depths and defiance of water. There is nothing there about a table covered in a tie-dyed, over-processed, screen-printed fabric, reeking of white sage and sprinkled in water blessed under the full moon with bits of dead plants and food cast offs left on it to nourish no one as it collects dust in the corner of a room where it is out of the way of our day to day lives. Why, then, do we assume this is natural and how it must be?

I reflected on this once, from my perspective as a kitchen witch, and I found I simply could not, in good faith, lay food and drink upon a table to dry up or rot away. We, in this house, are not in danger of starving so truly the meaning of it being a “sacrifice” is lost. It felt wrong and un-natural so I stopped doing it and I was not struck with blight, knocked on me arse by lightning or dunked in the briny depths by a put out deity. Instead I started giving those items to the world. The drinks now sate my plants. The food is now offered to the animals outside. It’s nourishing and more natural. It feels better, as if I am helping my world just a little, fortifying it a little each time. It adds an uplifting energy to all that I do.

Now, do not get me wrong. This is not to say tables do not have their place, nor do I believe that those who swear by altars are somehow “wrong”. We all need some place to put stuff. We all have to put the candles somewhere safe yet, if all of nature is sacred, then anywhere we choose to lay the tools down should automatically be sacred, without needing consecration.  We cast circle. We spin our wards and take our protective measures when we set to worship. Safety is then, not an issue. I’m a big fan of decorating tables for holidays, of finding a piece of ground and calling quarters from there, of speaking from the heart, of moving by gut, by instinct, by nature- making sure that those decorations used can either be reused or be somehow recycled or reclaimed by nature.

In the same vein are the items on the altar.  Isn’t an object used every day, loved and cherished more sacred than a chalice set aside for use only on high holidays, relegated to a shelf/table/mantle to collect dust the rest of the year? This reminds me of the Velveteen Rabbit, the children’s story about the stuffed rabbit who was so loved by a child that it’s button eye was popping off and it’s soft, lustrous fabric had become dull and threadbare. The child sadly became ill with “fever” which means all the belongings in the nursery were to be burned, including the rabbit. Instead, when the rabbit was taken outside to be burned it was magically turned into a real bunny- because anything so loved and so cherished did, indeed become real to the child. Therefore, instead of a pretty altar shouldn’t we use that athame and chalice everyday? Allow it to nourish us, to become worn from our hands, imbued with our energy and grow from the power of use and love? Those candles take on more meaning if they are not tucked into a beautifully decorated corner but cherished and used to warm our nights and light our lives.
Since we don’t know when the veil will claim us, perhaps things shouldn’t be saved for those “special occasions” as much as enjoyed right now- from that wine that would be the perfect drink at Midsummer to the nightie that would be particularly tempting on May Day. There will always be more “perfect wines” and another Midsummer but not another right now.

The more complex we make things, the more controlled they are, the less natural they become and the further from the true spirit of paganism it is, at least for me.

Be blessed and be well.