Brewing - The Gray World: Craft

Neolithic Shamanism: Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition - Raven Kaldera 2012

Brewing
The Gray World: Craft

Raven: My wife is actually the brewer in my family, but when I requested to be able to make a sacred beer, she walked me through the process. I used the blessings in the wonderful Northern Tradition book Ingvi’s Blessing, by Geordie Ingerson (Asphodel Press, 2011), which walks one through each step of the process, giving a blessing or offering at each step. We used a recipe for juniper beer in Stephen Buhner’s book Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers, which I recommend for anyone who wants to forge a spiritual relationship with any sort of alcohol, even if only drinking it.

Galina: I’ve brewed mead a couple of times, and it certainly teaches patience. It’s fairly messy, so until I moved into my own house, I wasn’t able to brew very often. There is something very special, however, in being able to offer to the Gods and ancestors something that you have painstakingly brewed yourself. I have a strong working relationship with alcohol. First, I had an adopted mother who took me in hand and trained my palate to professional levels. I seriously considered training as a sommelier, and I’ve had the pleasure of tasting some of the world’s most remarkable wines. I have a deep affection for the beauty and elegance that the spirit of the vine can embody. I’ve also used it at times to move into a headspace in which I can be used as an oracle. Half a glass of wine, taken with proper Intent and with respect to the spirit of the vine, can move me into an oracular headspace. It lubricates the psychic passages, if you’ll pardon the rather crude image, and allows for a smooth and relatively easy transition. Of course, part of honoring the spirit of the vine lies in not abusing it or its gifts. Alcohol is a very sacred thing. It’s a microcosm of the Well of Wyrd where destiny is born, of Odhroerir the mead of inspiration, and of the ever-increasing waters of memory.

Myths from all over the world explain that fermented beverages are a gift to us from the Gods and spirits. There are no tales of people accidentally finding out that fermented plant material or honey tasted good and altered the mind; in every case, a higher being took pity on a humankind in misery and gave us the gift of fermentation in order to provide some joy in living. As animists who believe in the worlds of spirit, we can easily see this as a truth: as with medicinal plants, a higher power bestowed on us the secret of alcoholic beverages.

Today, alcohol is as often a problem as it is a joy. This is because the ancient rules regarding the consumption of alcohol as a sacred beverage are long lost. It’s similar to tobacco—a sacred plant that was solemnly used in ritual ceremonies on special occasions harmed no one and did much good, but that same plant, when grown irreverently and used casually, causes addictions and extracts a high death toll. Alcohol was once the bringer of visions, as much so as the herbal hallucinogens we associate with shamans.

Mead is the most popular sacred beverage of the North, probably because it was the oldest. Tales abound of the sacred Mead of Poetry that blessed certain individuals with silver tongues. Paleolithic hunter-gatherers had occasional access to large amounts of honey, but malt and grain are the products of agriculture. The only fermented beverage that may vie historically for the oldest position is apple cider, which is also immortalized in the myth of Iduna’s apples of eternal youth. However, beer also became sacred when the focus changed to agriculture in the Neolithic era, and the cult of John Barleycorn grew. This archetypal figure was worshiped by every farmer, cut down and sacrificed in his prime, and reborn again in the spring. The Norse called him Ingvi or Frey, and the double X seen on bushels of grain and certain beers comes from his double-X Ing rune. Beers were also made from special combinations of herbs for magical and trance-inducing purposes; Pilsner ale originally contained pilsen, the Old Germanic word for henbane. Sacred to Thor, the henbane ale was poured as a libation for the Thunder God and also drunk to induce visions from him. Odin also has a strong connection to alcohol. He won the sacred mead of inspiration, Odhroerir, and there are tales of his giving aid to the lady of the house when it came to brewing. Norse women were responsible for providing the alcohol for their families. Brewing was an important household craft, and if a woman caught Odin’s eye by her skill and industry in brewing, he was not above spitting into the vats of fermenting mash or mead, thus rendering the finished product extraordinarily excellent.

Image Exercise: Sacred Brewing

Sacred brewing begins with cleanliness. All vessels for brewing should be carefully washed—although not with bleach, as that will kill the eventual living microorganisms—and a prayer said for cleanliness. Then the malted grain (if one is making beer or ale) or the fruit juice (if one is making fruit wine) or the herbal brew (if one is making a herbal wine) or the honey (if one is making mead) is blessed, and the spirits of the plants are asked to lend their strength and aid to the brew. If you have connections with Gods of grain, fruit, herbs, or bees, this is a good time to call on them. Then follow the recipe you have chosen until you come to adding the yeast.

As Geordie Ingerson points out in Ingvi’s Blessing, it is important to remember that yeast is a living being, or, rather, thousands of tiny living beings that will be sacrificing themselves to give you this drink. In a sense, every alcoholic drink is the sacrificial body not only of the plants but of the yeast itself. Every loaf of bread rises because of their breathing, and every alcoholic drink ferments through their process of eating and excreting. So, at this point, a prayer should be said in honor of the yeast creatures who give their lives for our joy. All the spiritual brewers who we’ve spoken to caution that the yeast must be treated as a guest in the home, that arguments and negative interpersonal energy near their tun or carboy or bottles will distress the yeast and cause the beverage to go flat or sour. Yeast and brewing function best in an atmosphere of happiness. If you can’t provide that atmosphere, perhaps home brewing is not for you.

At the end, when you open the drink, say a prayer of acknowledgment for everything that died for this product, and request that its effects be pleasant and bring wisdom, rather than engendering foolishness. Sacred brews should be used in some sort of ritual context, or at least in a consecrated area. They are not something to knock back while watching football with the rowdy friends. (For that, support your local noncorporate brewery, and buy specialty beer or wine from them.)