Guide to Ritual Etiquette

Imagine for a moment that you were at a function where the guest of honor was the Queen of England. Half an hour late a guy comes walking in, interrupting the Queen in the middle of her speech. He’s filthy, stinking of sex and weed, wearing torn jeans and a Sex Pistols t-shirt. He stumbles around, bumping into people, inserting his rude and inappropriate comments into the conversation, and starts swinging his fists belligerently when the guards come for him. He evades their grasp, leaps up onto the dais, steals the Queen’s crown, which he puts on his head with his grimy fingers, and then proceeds to dry-hump her to the horrified astonishment of everyone in attendance.

An extreme little scenario, perhaps, but I feel the same disgust and shock when I see people at rituals conduct themselves poorly. Everything you do for the gods should be done with mindfulness and respect. Always remember that you are in the presence of the Great Ones, and conduct yourself accordingly. If behavior would be out of place among polite human society, how much more should that behavior be shunned when you are in the company of the gods?

To begin with, one should be clean both physically and spiritually. Before the ritual, if possible, one should bathe and take special care with their grooming. If time does not allow, one should at least wash their hands and face and any other part of them which will be visible or which will come into contact with anything else. One should wear clean and neat clothing. I don’t think that one should necessarily have to be dressed in “period” attire. After all, this is a religion not a reenactment society. But your clothing should be appropriate for the circumstances. Meaning, if everyone else is going to be wearing casual conservative clothing, don’t come wearing a halter top and cut off jeans. Nor, for that matter, is a three piece suit appropriate for an outdoor event. One should wear neat, loose-fitting clothing to enable one to move about with ease during the ritual. One may choose to wear jewelry or necklaces which have special meaning for the individual or the deity in question, but these should not be ostentatious and overwhelming. (Anyone who has spent any amount of time at Pagan gatherings will instantly be able to call up numerous examples of what I mean.) The same goes for any perfumes, essential oils, or incenses you may choose to use. Just because you absolutely adore them doesn’t mean that others will. And remember: a little bit goes a long way. One may choose to wear clothing of a color associated with a deity, or go the default route and wear white as this was the color most often worn at ancient Hellenic festivals. Other colors include reds, yellows, and blacks. Of course, if one wants to wear a full khiton as a nod to the ancient Greeks, that’s perfectly fine, and can actually contribute a great deal to helping shift awareness. They are also quite flattering to most figures, and easy to construct. Another nod can be in the form of garlands or crowns, which the Greeks wore every time they sacrificed.

This focus on outer appearance has a twofold reason. First, of course, is the fact that the Greeks and their gods loved beauty, and dressing nicely is a sign of respect, both for yourself and those you are going to be with. It shows that you care enough to look your best, that you’re willing to put in the effort and go that extra little mile for them. It also, however, has another aspect to it: the act of dressing up, especially in clothing you do not normally wear, contributes to a shift in your awareness. Little children intuitively understand this and incorporate dress-up as a frequent part of their make-believe games. It sends signals to your unconscious mind that you are doing something special, different, that you are putting on a new identity, distinct from your everyday working and waking persona. As you are putting on your ritual finery, really focus on the act and the transition it indicates, and leave behind the concerns you normally have that you might better focus on the gods and those things relating to them.

Which, naturally enough, leads into the spiritual purity that I initially mentioned. Every day we are beset by countless thoughts, worries, and dilemmas which our minds must constantly wrestle with. How am I going to make the credit card payment this month? What incompetent thing is my co-worker going to do next that I’ll get blamed for? Did my partner take out the trash this morning? Is that the muffler going out on my car? Why does my ass look so huge in these jeans?

When you are about to worship the gods, set aside all such thoughts. At the temple of Asklepios at Epidauros there was an inscription which read “Holiness consists in thinking holy thoughts.” And we should always keep that in mind. This is the first sacrifice that you will perform for your gods, and a sacrifice of greater importance than any offerings of first fruits or libations of wine you may make for them. Set aside all such daily concerns, all such distracting thoughts, however important they may be. Focus entirely on the gods and what you are about to do. The proclamation of the Hierophant at the beginning of the celebration of the Mysteries was “Let holy silence prevail!” And let it prevail with you, both internally and externally. I know it isn’t easy to control your thoughts; they slip in unbidden and dominate our minds. But we must fight against them, drive them out with thoughts of the gods, thoughts of what we are doing, our love for them, and yearning to be in their presence, or else we can miss the experience altogether. It is also disrespectful to the gods. Imagine how you would feel if in the midst of a passionate embrace, all your lover could think and talk about was somebody else. So, empty your mind through meditation: fill it with divine things, and there will be no room for such mundane weeds to take root. And most important of all, do not speak about anything other than the gods and what’s going on during the celebration – and even such talk should be done moderately, if at all. There is nothing more distracting to other people than to hear you gossiping or bullshitting about your day while the celebration is going on. It may be that you haven’t gotten to see these people for a while, it may be that your concerns are urgent – but they can wait. Few festivals go on longer than a couple hours – most not more than thirty minutes. Can you not manage to keep quiet and focused for even so short a period of time? And if you can’t – why are you there? Far better and more pious would it be for you not to attend than to ruin everything for everyone else with your idle chatter.

But there is more to spiritual purity than just having focused thoughts and control over your tongue. I am, of course, referring to one of the most controversial aspects of our religion for modern people, the rules governing ritual purity and miasma. These do not often make sense to us, and some feel therefore that it’s entirely permissible to dispense with them. I feel that this is wrong-hearted. These are ancient and long-standing traditions, honored by our cultural ancestors and in some instances set down by the gods themselves. Who are we to cast them aside, simply because we do not understand them? To me, that violates xenia, hospitality. That would be like going to a stranger’s house and telling him how he should run things. Refusing to take off your shoes when asked, taking the head seat at the dinner table, changing the channel on the television – all when he has invited you in from the cold. Because in a very real sense, that altar and all the space surrounding it belongs to the gods. It is their temporary abode, their home away from home, and as we approach it, we are guests and suppliants. It is not our rules which govern conduct when we stand at the altar – it is theirs. And so, even if I don’t fully understand why something is demanded of me, I will not rudely refuse to abide by it.

But let us really think about miasma and see if it is actually as baffling and incomprehensible as many claim it to be. What are the things that were generally considered to carry with them impurity, miasma? Contact with the dead, with the insane, with murderers, with women who had just given birth, and the act of sex. (There were plenty of others depending on the sanctuary and the god in question – but these were the biggies.) I think part of the problem that people have with miasma is the lingering influence for them of Christian thought.

For many impurity is equated with sin, and sin with wrongness. This is not the case in Greek thought. With the exception of, say, murder there is nothing in that list that the Greeks or their gods would have thought of as wrong in and of itself. Certainly sex could be problematic if it was out of control (for instance the illicit liaison between Paris and Helen led to one of the most disastrous episodes in Greek history) but the Greeks quite enjoyed the physical pleasures, as one sees in the frequent erotic imagery on vases and frescoes, in poetry and even in the stories they told about their gods. (Zeus’ conquests are beyond number, so he is hardly a flesh-hating prude!) And in fact, religious obligation would have put one in contact with the dead, for it was the family’s duty to care for the deceased and see that they received a proper burial. If one were negligent in their duty to a dead family member, not only would they incur the displeasure of the community, but the wrath of the gods and the punishment of the deceased themselves. And yet, this highly important duty – similar to the duty of women to bring forth children – carried with it a state of impurity. How can something that is not only necessary, but seen as a good, bring with it impurity? That has to do with the nature of the gods and the nature of mortal life.

As early as Homer the gods were called Athanatoi – the Deathless or Immortal ones. This was the primary thing which separated them from us humans. A man could be strong and beautiful, wise and powerful, he could accomplish marvelous deeds and change the course of history – but no matter how great he was, no matter what incredible things he had done, he would always be brought low by death. That is our nature. We are small, corruptible, finite creatures, whose every moment is dominated by our mortality. The gods aren’t. They are living, eternal beings, whose existence is shaped by expansiveness, transcendence, and an eternal and unchanging order. In traditional Greek thought there is a huge, one might even say infinite chasm which separates the divine from the mortal, and though we can never actually cross that border, we can draw near it, bridge the chasm a little bit, reach out to the gods even as they are reaching out towards us. This is done in the sacrifice, at their altar, which serves as an autonomous bit of divine land in mortal territory. But the only way that this communication is possible is through the law of sympathy: like speaking to like. The more full we are of mortal things, the harder it is to communicate with the gods. And all of those things – murder, insanity, sex, birth, etc – have about them mortality, abnormality, changeableness, death. These are the things which serve as a barrier between mortals and the divine. It is what makes us who we are. It certainly is not a bad thing – but it stands in the way between us and them. And thus, at least temporarily, in order to affect communication with the divine, we must cease to have contact with the mortal realm. We must stretch ourselves, remove ourselves from the mundane, become for just that moment, something a little more like the gods, purer, more full of life.

Now, of course, that is not to say that we cannot have communication with the gods even in our most mortal state. I dare say there wasn’t an ancient Greek woman who wasn’t mouthing prayers to Artemis in the midst of her labor! And I bet most of those women felt her very near in that moment. But just because the gods can come to us at any time, in any place, doesn’t mean that that holds true for us. A great man may go out in the fields and visit with his workers, and they needn’t worry about their dirty, sweaty condition, for they are in the fields and that is normal. But if those workers should be invited to visit the lord in his mansion, should they not make themselves clean and comely when going to see him? One exception to this, however, is that there are gods who dwell on the boundaries, the khthonioi and those for whom death is as much a part of their nature as life, liminal gods who blur the lines that separate things, who invert the natural order, who are honored with holy unholy rites, and thus who are not at all concerned with purity and miasma. To these gods it may be proper to forgo the normal considerations – but I would do this only if one has had a long-standing and deep relationship with them.

So, how does one ensure their ritual purity? One should avoid sexual contact for at least 24 hours before a festival. Some temples forbid sex for two or three days, especially when the partner was someone other than one’s spouse. One should avoid coming into contact with those persons who are liable to have miasma for a similar length of time – the dead, the insane, criminals, etc. One should also avoid eating foods that are forbidden to particular gods: pork, goat, certain seafood (especially shellfish), horses, dogs, etc. To be on the safe side, one might want to have a vegetarian diet for the couple days leading up to a festival, though even then there are certain things to avoid, such as beans and onions. If one has fresh wounds or sores, these should be covered up as blood itself can cause miasma. One should also avoid desecrating tombs, defiling the images of gods or speaking badly about them, practicing sorcery, having or performing an abortion, corrupting a boy child or virgin, or smearing filth on themselves for an appropriate length of time leading up to the festival, as all of these will render one impure according to the various law-codes at different temples. (See M. P. Nilsson’s Geschichte der griechischen Religion Vol. II and Frederick C. Grant’s Hellenistic Religions for an exhaustive listing of these.) If any of these acts, or accidental contact with people who may have participated in them, are unavoidable, one should perform a ritual of cleansing beforehand. Although any decent Hellenic ritual will begin with the passing of khernips and perfunctory purification rites, don’t risk it, and do your part before you even get there. Remember folks, one can never be too pure!

The next important thing to keep in mind is: touch only what you’re supposed to touch. Don’t go up to the altar and rearrange things, even if you think they’re out of place. Don’t touch the idol unless you’ve been given permission. Don’t touch the items that have been given to the gods, as these now belong entirely to them. And don’t handle the sacred implements, as these require a special level of purity which only the officiating priests may have. If you should accidentally come into contact with any of the above, apologize profusely, both to the officiating priest and the deity.

An extension of this is: don’t touch other people without their consent. Obviously this rule should encompass inappropriate fondling, getting in people’s personal space, and physical altercations – all of which should be out of the question for any civilized individual – but there’s a subtler and more important extension of this as well. Sometimes people can have intense and powerful experiences with the gods during ritual. This can be anything from a fleeting insight up to full divine possession. Such encounters can be accompanied by overwhelming shows of emotion. I’ve seen women who were literally entheos, full of the god Dionysos. They had collapsed onto the ground and were alternating between laughter and tears, blessedly out of their minds with the god. To outsiders this seemed like a frightening state for them to be in, and in their desire to help the poor afflicted girls, these complete strangers got close in their faces, held them, and tried to talk them down out of the state. They didn’t stop to consider whether that’s what the women themselves wanted. That they purposefully opened themselves in this way, and that this experience, while intense, while dredging up all sorts of emotions, was precisely what they needed, and wanted, and what the god himself desired, and that instead of being suddenly shocked out of it, the best response would have been to let them ride it out, let them feel and see and experience everything that he had in store for them, to let it take its natural course from frenzy and communion to release and the blissful state afterwards. It wasn’t the outsiders’ place to make that decision for them, and in fact intruding in that way could have actually caused the women more harm than the state of possession itself. So, in such a situation, mind your own business. Leave that kind of thing up to the individuals who know what they’re doing, who have been trained to deal with these abnormal states.

On the other hand if you’re attending the festival with your young children, keep a close eye on them and don’t let them have free rein. Make sure they know what’s going on, when they can speak, when they shouldn’t, what they can and can’t do, or touch, or eat or drink – and don’t expect other people to watch your child for you. This is good advice normally – but as someone who has worked in retail for most of my adult life, I can testify that far too many parents do none of the above. As inappropriate as it is to let your little one run around screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing a tantrum, knocking over stuff, and generally making a pest of themselves when it’s at the book store, it’s doubly, triply, nay a hundred times worse to let them do this at a religious event. And yet, all too often, I’ve seen this happen. And when the recalcitrant parents were confronted with the behavior of their little demon-spawn, they often replied that they were just letting them enjoy themselves. That’s all well and good – but what about other people? People who are there to worship and commune with their gods, not to listen to little brats shrilly screeching? The child’s right to enjoy itself does not outweigh everyone else’s right to do similarly. Now, please don’t think from the above that I’m proposing that children have no place at festivals or that I think your child would act in this manner. (Oh no, dear reader, I’m sure that your child is surely the most cute, the most cuddly, the most well-behaved and pious child to ever grace the planet. It’s other people’s kids that are brats. See. Now there’s absolutely no need to send off that hate-mail you’re already composing.) Quite to the contrary. Ours is a religion of the household, of the family, of the community. And children are the center of that, the future of our faith. For that reason it is important to raise them in the faith, to instill in them early a sense of the gods and their role in the world, to not hide or be ashamed of our religion, but make it something integral in their lives. And more to the point, it can be very fun for them and for us when they’re participating, from the tossing of barley into the fire to the games and races and dances which all children seem to love. So yes, children definitely have a place at our festivals (well, except for the more adult-themed ones) but their parents must be responsible for them.

And it’s not just parents who should be responsible, but all of us, especially when it comes to helping with prep and clean up. Your mother isn’t there, and even if she is, you should still clean up after yourself! I’ve heard horror stories about this. A couple friends of mine attended a ritual. These individuals, as it turned out, weren’t even Hellenes, but were curious outsiders. The bulk of the ritual, including the meal, had wound down and people were starting to leave. But there was still a huge mess, including dirty cups and dishes and all of the altar supplies still set up. Do you know who broke down and started cleaning things up? The guests. Everyone else was too busy socializing or leaving. That, to me, is utterly reprehensible. Not only should everyone have pitched in and cleaned up their own mess, but it shouldn’t have fallen to outsiders, to guests, to people who weren’t even Hellenes to clean things up. That is a complete violation of xenia. So, do your part. And if you don’t know what needs doing, or where things go, ask.

In fact, that’s my final bit of advice. Before you attend the ritual ask the hosts any questions you might have about how things are done, what will be expected of you, what you can bring or in any other way contribute. Don’t worry about looking like a n00b – much better to find this information out beforehand than to commit a faux pas in the middle of things. If you have special dietary restrictions, or if you can’t drink alcohol, or if you have any other personal considerations, bring this up to the organizers before the event. If there are lines to be recited, actions to be performed, songs to be sung or dances to be performed – find out about these early, and then since you’ll be prepared you’ll be much more comfortable during the festival as opposed to having all of that sprung on you at the last moment.

So, there you go. Those are my rules for attending a festival. Basically, they could be summarized as: be considerate of others, be mindful that you’re in the presence of the gods, and don’t make an ass of yourself. Failure to abide by these will result in your being torn limb from limb by frenzied maenads who will consume your still-bleeding flesh raw.

© 2009 H. Jeremiah Lewis