WITH ÅSA AT THE ĘSIR SACRIFICE

"Actually, many people might be Ęsir believers, but most of them don't know it. But there are many elements in our culture, that are reminiscents from the old religion."

This is said by Åsa Eriksson, a mother of two from Hällsäter outside Hudiksvall and the contact person in Hälsingland for the Swedish Ęsir Cult Communion. But for her own part, she does not like the notion Ęsir religion, but prefers saying the ancient custom.

"I don't literarily believe that Thor is out riding his chariot in the sky, when it is thundering", says Åsa. "The stories in the Edda is no dogma, that one has to believe in, but a collection of myths, that should be understood symbolically. For me, the ancient custom is more a question about showing respect for energies in the nature, and about feeling a cultural coherence. Many of our customs, as the celebrations of Yule (Christmas) and Midsummer, have their background in pre-Christian time."

"Today, many people are spiritual searchers", says Åsa Eriksson. "But in my view, the ancient custom is something that differs from new age, all that chrystal healing stuff. There are elements of shamanism in the ancient custom, but these have more in common with the ceremonies of the Laps or the Indians than with astral bodies and liberating breathing."

As a school girl in Upplands-Väsby between Stockholm and Uppsala, Åsa and her class mates made excursions to the many rune stones in the surroundings, and they also visited the ruins of Birka in Björkö in Lake Mälaren. Birka was the commercial centre of Sweden in the ninth century, and the place where the missionary Ansgar for the first time preached Christianity in Sweden. In high school, Åsa read Frans G Bengtsson's novel The long ships, about the Viking raids. But it was quite recently, just four years ago, when she hade moved to Hällsäter with her family, that she really got interested of the old Norse religion.

"The house in which we are living is situated just beside the grave-field, at the border between Hög and Hälsingtuna parishes. The nearest gravemounds are just outside our grounds. When I took my walks there, it was difficult not to percieve what a special energy there is in that place."

Her interest grew, and one day, Åsa found the home page of the Ęsir Cult Communion on the Internet. Now, she is a member of the communion. So far, she is the only one around Hudiksvall, but her mother-in-law and a woman in Forsa are considering membership. Her dream is that in the future, a local organisation, or godeord as they are called in the Communion, will be founded in Hudiksvall. (Half a year after this article was published, the Ydalir Godeord for Hälsingland was actually founded.)

"It would be nice to celebrate Midsummer following the ancient custom, perhaps in some of the old cult places that are situated around here", says Åsa.

There are not many people in Hudiksvall that know about Åsa Eriksson's beliefs. She is living a completely ordinary life, in her own opinion. Right now, she is at home with her second child, but otherwise, she has worked as a seller. For some time, she ran her own car rental establishment. She has not yet decided what to do after her parental leave, but it might be some project of her own. Or she might continue her studies - earlier academic studies in cultural sociology and English have founded a basis for further studies.

Following the ancient custom does not mean, that Åsa Eriksson has anything special against Christianity. Her children are baptised in the church, and she goes with them to the child hours in church.

"They do a lot of good things in church, and there is much positive energy in the Christ gestalt. And albeit one follows the ancient custom, one has to respect the society we are living in, and the other religious beliefs people have. But if I should have another child, I think I would like to have a name giving ceremony following the ancient custom instead of a Cristian baptising."

----------------------- This windy and rainy Easter's Day, Åsa Eriksson and her two friends have travelled down to Gamla Uppsala to participate in the Communion's Spring Sacrifice, or vårblot as it is called in Swedish. On top of the Court Tumulus near Odinsborg some one hundred members of the Communion have gathered, standing in a circle.

"A 'blot' has nothing to do with blood", explains Carl Johan Rehbinder, before the ceremony starts. Rehbinder is chair of the Swedish Ęsir Cult Communion and is also serving as the 'blotgode', priest, of this ritual. "A 'blot' is a blessing, a sacrificing ceremony. We don't make slaughter sacrifices - we stopped doing so centuries ago."

A table is standing as an altar on top of the hill, and there, the hand-carved god-sculptures are arranged. Thor with his hammer, Frej with his enormous erected phallos, the goddess of fertility Freja, the one-eyed Oden and his two ravens Hugin and Munin. With her hands lifted, the blotgydja (priestess) Eva Orre, or Oden-Disa as she is called in this situation, commands blot peace: during this ceremony, nobody is allowed to use violence or hard words, here shall kinship and tolerance rule.

Nevertheless, the blotgode raises the lampoon pole and repudiates "the mental clearfellings who abuse our custom". The Ęsir Cult Communion dissociates from all forms of racism and nazism. They want to live in peaceful co-existence with other cultures and religions.

When the blotgode and the blotgydja have invoked Oden, Frigga and all the other gods and goddesses, the mere blot starts. The circle of participants slowly moves around, clockwise, accompanied by drums and Australian didgeridoos. At the altar, each one puts a piece of an apple in front of some of the god-sculptures, and spreads some seed. Some of them falls on their knees, and some shout out which one of the gods they give their sacrifice, but most of them make their sacrifice silently and without much ado. The blot is a private thing, and each one is doing in the way he or she prefers.

This pluralism is obvious also in the next ceremony, that is called "lag om". A big horn of mead is passed around the circle. Each one drinks for the god he or she prefers, but some address their drink to "all good powers" or "the goodness beyond all religions". The freedom is wide, as is the discipline. The horn is passed around the entire crowd, they meet each other's eyes when passing it over, and it comes all the way back to the blotgode without needing to be refilled. He pours the rest of the mead out on the ground in front of the altar, to the gods.

When the blotgode and the blotgydja have thanked the gods and goddesses for their presence, we are invited to take a piece of apple from the altar. Now we can eat what the gods have left for us, and saw out the seed where we want its life energy to grow.

--------------- Carl Johan Rehbinder, who runs his own media enterprise, is the new chairman of the Swedish Ęsir Cult Communion, with 450 members around the country.

"Actually, I have some doubts regarding calling the Ęsir cult a religion", says Carl Johan Rehbinder. "Rather, it's a cultural belonging. There are many directions within our Communion, from atheists, who perceive the mythology as some kind of psychological theory, to active believers and shamanists. But there is a common platform in the respect for the ancient custom. And there was never a unitarian dogma for our ancestors, either."

Many perceive the Ęsir cult as some kind of violence romanticism, but Carl Johan Rehbinder disagrees.

"The moral stance of our ancestors, as it is expressed in Havamal, is more peaceful than the Christian, and women have a much stronger position than in Christianity. The new nazis and other evil powers, who try to abuse our symbols, don't know what they are talking about - there is no support for their opinions in the ancient custom. We don't want to have anything to do with the nazis, as Christians usually don't want to have to do with Ku Klux Klan."

The Communion started in the beginning of the 90's, and has now grown to 450 members. Local organisations, godeord, exist in a corollary of towns.

"But I don't think the Ęsir cult will expand very quickly", says Carl Johan Rehbinder. "We don't do any missionary work. In the core of missioneering, there is always a conviction that one's own beliefs are superior to others. But for us, the respect for people with other thoughts and beliefs is crucial."

"Most often, we have a relaxed relation to the Christian church. For example, in a ceremony we hade a year ago or so, some Christian priests were participating. What we did that time was to change a little in our invocation, so we invoked Christ together with Oden and the other gods and goddesses. It was a very strong experience for us all."

But all Christians don't show the same acceptance. This Spring sacrifice was originally intended to take place on the first of the King Tumuli, with the stone that was installed by the Pope in 1989 as the altar. But so far, this area is owned by the church, and the chairman of the church council opponed firmly against the plans.

"In his opinion, our ceremony would blasphemise the stone", says Carl Johan Rehbinder. "I tried to argue with him and explain that our intention was not blasphemic at all, but that our blot could be seen as an example of peaceful co-existence, but he was immovable. Next year, however, the church will withdraw the area around the King Tumulus, and the Swedish Central Board of National Antiquities will be responsible for the place. And they are very positive to our activities, since we among other things maintain and restorate old cult places."



©Gustaf Berglund