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Cernnunos 1
Cernnunos, the Horned God
When you become death, you become immortal.
When you realize the presence of the Horned God,
the Lord of Death within you,
you realize your place in the neverending order of the world,
and your spirit becomes immortal.
-Tannim Maelik, 1999
He is the hunter. He is the dying God. But his death is always in the service of the life force. He is untamed sexuality, but sexuality as a deep, holy, connecting power. He is the power of feeling, and the image of what men could be if they were liberated from the constraints of patriarchal culture.
The God of the Wood is sexual, but sexuality is seen as sacred, not as obscene or blasphemous. Our God wears horns, but they are the waxing and waning cycles of the Goddess moon, and the symbol of animal vitality. In some respects, he is black, not because he is evil or dreadful or fearful, but because darkness and the night are times of power, and is also part of the cycles of time.
For men, the God is the image of inner power and of a potency that is more than merely sexual. He is the undivided self, in which mind is not split from body, nor is it split from the spirit of the flesh. He is a part of the celebration that is life.
The God Cernnunos is only a small part of the overall reality that is life. He is the essence of death that stems from the nurturing Goddess aspect that is birth and re-birth, the continuation that is the life cycle. Birth, life, Death, Re-birth. They are one in the same. Two sides of an identical mirror like night and day.
Cernnunos's love includes sexuality, which is also wild and untamed as well as gentle and tender. His sexuality is fully felt, in a content in which sexual desire is sacred, not only because it is the means by which life is pro-created, but also because it is the means by which our own lives, are most deeply and ecstatically realized. Sex is sacrament, an outward sign of an inward grace. That grace is the deep connection and recognition of the wholeness of another person. In its essence, it is not limited the physical act, it is an exchange of personal energy, of subtle nourishment between two people. Through connection with another, we connect with all that is life.
The God is Eros, but he is also Logos, the power of the mind!
For both men and women, the God Cernnunos is also the dying-god. He represents the giving over that sustains life: Death in the service of the life force. Life is characterized by many losses, and unless the pain of each one is fully felt and worked through, it remains buried in the psyche, where like a festering sore that never fully heals, it exudes emotional poison. The dying god embodies the concept of loss.
Death is always followed by rebirth, loss by restitution. After the dark of the moon, the new crescent appears. Spring follows winter; day follows night. In a worldview that views everything as cynical, death, itself cannot be the final ending, but rather some unknown transformation to some new form of being. The God becomes the comforter and consoler of hearts, who teaches us to understand death through his example. He embodies the warmth, the tenderness, and compassion that are the true complement of male aggression.

The dying God puts on his antlers or horns and becomes `The Hunter', who meets out death as well as suffering it. It is difficult for us to understand the concepts of the divine hunter, but in a culture of hunters, the hunt meant life, and the hunter was the life giver of the tribe. The tribe identified with its food animals; hunting involved tremendous skill and knowledge of the habits and psychology of the prey. Animals were never killed needlessly, and no parts of the kill were ever wasted. Life was never taken without recognition and reverence for the spirit of the prey.
As the lord of winds, the God is identified with the elements of the natural world. As lord of the dance, he symbolizes the spiral dance that is life. He is the bright sun, the light-giving, energizing force, and the darkness of life and death. There is no good vs. evil; both are part of the cycle, the necessary balance that is life. He embodies movement and change. The sun child is born at the winter solstice, when, after the triumph of darkness throughout the years longest night, the sun rises again. The God is within and without. However we call him, he awakens within us. He lends balance and fire, he is the lover that blesses and guides sexual pleasure.
At the Winter solstice, he is born as the embodiment of innocence and joy, of childish delight in all things. He is the triumph of the returning light. At Brigid or Candlemas, February 2nd, his growth is celebrated, as the days grow visibly longer. At the Spring equinox, he is the green flourishing youth who dances with the Goddess in her maiden aspect. On Beltane, May 1st, there marriage is celebrated with maypoles and bonfires and huge versions of the green man of the wood are erected from leaves and branches.

On the Summer solstice it is consummated in a union so complete it becomes death. He is named Summer clad king, instead of Winter born, and the crown is of roses: the bloom of culmination coupled with the stab of the thorn. He is mourned at Lughnasad, August 1st, and at the fall equinox, he sleeps in the womb of the Goddess, sailing over the sunless sea that is her womb. At Samhain, (first full moon in Scorpio), he arrives at the land of youth, the shining land of the dead in which souls grow young again, as they wait to be reborn. He opens the gates that they may return and visit their loved ones, and rules in the dream world, as he too grows young again, until at the Winter solstice he is again reborn.
This is the myth, the poetic statement of a process that is seasonal, celestial, and psychological. Enacting the myth in ritual, we enact our own transformation, the constant birth, growth, culmination, and passing of our ideas, plans, work, and relationships. Each loss, each change, even a happy one, turns life upside down. We each become the hanged one: The herb that's hung up to dry, the carcass hung to cure, the hanged man of the tarot, whose meaning is the sacrifice that allows us to move on to a new level of being.
The God does not perpetuate acts of sadomasochism on the Goddess or preach to her “the power of sexual surrender.” It is he that surrenders, to the power of his own feelings.
Nowhere but in love do we live so completely in the all-consuming present; and at no time but when we are in love are we so seemingly conscious of our own mortality. For even if love lasts, or metamorphoses into a sweeter and deeper, if less fiery storm. Sooner or later, one lover will die and one will be left with the loss alone. Through the embrace of Pan, whose hairy thighs rub us raw even as they bring us ecstasy, can we learn to be fully alive?
And so the God is the proud stag who haunts the heart of the deepest forest, that of the self. He is untamed. He is all that lies within us that refuses to be domesticated, that refuses to be compromised, diluted, made safe, molded, or tampered with. He is free.
Pan shapes flexibility in the World of form.
Known to all societies in one form or another, the Horned God, Death, Pan, Lord of the Wood, Gadarn; the Druid God of Fertility, God of the underworld, Kouros, Kern, kernnunose, the Grim Reaper, God of the Dream World, and many, many others.
To me he is simply known as “The Lord of Death!”
Words of the God
Listen now to the words of the God. He, who of old, was called Zeus, Herne, Tammuz, Apollo, Cernnunos, Lugh, Osiris, Dionysos, and many other names. He who is the Horned-One. He who is the Mother-Son and Mother-Lover. He who dies and is reborn.
“I who am the Companion of the Lady and Child of the Mother; I who am He who lives and dies and lives again, do call on you to know Me as I am, for in doing so you will know yourself. I am King Stag, Horned-One, Lord of the Hunt. I am Passion and Pleasure and Pursuit. I am Wild but not violent; Free but not uncontrolled. Know Me as I am and hear ye the charge I place before you. That you may love whom thou wilt but neglect not those whom you owe fidelity and loyalty. That you think, say and do as thou wilt so long as you harm no other nor bring harm unto thyself. And, I, who am One with She that is All, do charge you to be one with those whom you love, for all your acts of love and joy and pleasure are Rituals unto Us. I, who am He that lives, dies and lives again, do charge you to know my ages and to honor them through the passing of seasons and the turning of the year.”
“Know Me in the Winter as I am born and begin to grow. Celebrate My birth.” “Know Me in the Spring as the Earth comes to life and I am the Hunter. Celebrate new beginnings and growth.”
“Know Me in the Summer as Nature is fulfilled and I am wedded to She with whom I am Everything. Celebrate love.” “Know Me in the Autumn as you gather the harvest and I am fulfilled through death from which comes life. Celebrate transformation.”
“Know Me as I am. He who lives and dies and lives again and celebrate in Me the turning of the wheel. Understand My mystery for I am Son of the Mother and Consort to the Lady. I am My own Father, born of My own death, as you must also die that you may be reborn. For I am One with She that is All and you are one with Us!”
"Look well upon this light, for it is the last thou shall see in this, thy mortal life!"
Death is a common theme in initiatory rites.
In the usual initiation rite, there is a ritual death and rebirth. The initiate dies to his old life and is reborn to a new life as an initiate. With this ritual death and rebirth comes, if the initiate has been properly prepared, a significant change in consciousness and awareness. The initiate emerges transformed -- transfigured. This is not unique to Wicca, many mystery religions use the death and rebirth motif in their initiation rites. There is even speculation that the three days Lazarus spent in the tomb was a rite of initiation.
As the wheel of the year turns toward the dark time, it is natural to turn one's mind to the realms of shadow and darkness. The God has been sacrificed for the good of the world, and now dwells in the underworld as the Lord of Death and Resurrection. The life force is visibly ebbing in the world as nature shuts down for the winter.
I've been thinking lately of the relation between death and initiation.
In the movie "What About Bob", Bob, the overly dependent patient of a psychologist drives his poor therapist well over the edge. His therapist eventually ties him to a chair under which he's placed enough explosive to blow him to bits. Somehow, he escapes, but the experience of staring death in the face changes him. As a result of this change, he becomes much more self-reliant and is healed of his psychological problems. He also writes a book called "Death Therapy" and becomes quite famous on the talk show circuit.
In another book, "A Rage for Revenge", the main character undergoes what is called "mode training". In this training, he is forcibly introduced to the certainty of his own death. We follow him through the five stages of death, as defined by Elizabeth Kuebler-Ross: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. In the course of this training, he learns to choose which mental state he will operate in, and to function independently of pre-programmed mental states.
Recently, a friend of mine was forced to move out of a house he had owned for some years, abandoning most of his possessions. He reflected on the change in perspective that resulted from shedding his possessions, and commented that death, the shedding of the physical body, would be a more extreme form of this.
Death is a powerful force in our lives. It drives us to do something with the amount of time we have -- to do something that will make a difference after we're gone. It reminds us that there is a time limit on what we can achieve. It also spurs our quest for something more, for something that exists beyond that final deadline. Often this quest leads us into spiritual explorations, and it is in the course of this quest that we encounter the concept of initiation.
Given the parallels between initiation and death, it's worth reflecting on one more parallel. The five stages of death apply to initiation as well.
In the first stage, we have denial. There is no deep Mystery, nothing to be initiated into. What we see on the surface is all there is, and anyone who thinks there's anything deeper is a superstitious fool. The secularist -- the philosophical materialist -- denies the existence of any force or presence beneath the surface of nature. Rites of initiation are childish games at best, and dangerous hazing at worst. The religiously or spiritually inclined acknowledges this presence, but can't or won't believe that anything more lies on the other side of the initiation experience. There are no Mysteries. In either case, initiation is a childish game at best, and dangerous hazing at worst.
In the next stage, it has become apparent that initiation does lead to something not readily available elsewhere. Often the response is one of anger. The initiate, bound by oaths of secrecy, "thinks he's better than everyone else", or is "holding out" or just "teasing us with his so-called secrets". The very idea of initiation is "elitist". The notion that some people might not be "proper persons, properly prepared" is "judgemental". In a way, this represents progress. The non-initiate recognizes the existence of the Mysteries, and that their attainment is something to be desired. He has become a seeker. The anger he feels is over being told there may be some question as to whether he is a "proper person" or is "properly prepared".
Anger having failed to shake loose the secrets and Mysteries, the seeker turns to bargaining. Surely the secrets can be found in a book somewhere. Or maybe some other path has something equivalent to the Mysteries, without requiring the tests leading up to and including initiation. Or maybe someone will be pursuaded to leak the secrets. Bargaining fails because of the underlying truth behind the Mysteries -- they can never be told in words. "The Tao which can be named is not the Eternal Tao", and the Mysteries which can be explained are not the Mysteries. Bargaining, even when the seeker finds everything he seeks, in books or from informants, fails for this reason.
Anger burns itself out eventually. Without the energizing nature of this emotion, the seeker moves into depression. The training period is long, and the process of finding a teacher was equally long. Or maybe the teacher continues to elude the seeker. How can the Mysteries ever be attained if they can't be explained? If the seeker were a "proper person", wouldn't there be some progress by now? Is it worth continuing? Here we have the Samhain of the seeker's quest, the time when the light is fading and all hope is dying. The seeker has entered the dark night of the soul.
The seeker who perseveres emerges from the darkness into light. The time for Initiation comes, and the seeker is reborn into a new life. Propriety of person and long training come together to ignite the spark in the heart of the seeker. He opens up to the divine flame and accepts the Mysteries as They accept him. The family of the hidden children of the Goddess welcomes a newly born member.
This is not the end of the story because the story has no end. The wheel turns, and each part of the cycle comes round again and again. Every seeker will visit these stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance time and time again. But with each visit, experience adds to experience and wisdom deepens. The wheel turns, but it turns because we're moving. The wheel rolls forward.
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