Summer has gone to its rest. The harvest is reaped; its bounty stored in anticipation. Leaves of red and gold carpet the ground. Their once bright colours turning to rust in the early morning frost. Slowly disintegrating, they provide a bed of cover for the seedlings of spring to come. In decay, still they serve a purpose. The sun sinks ever lower on the horizon, its rays weak and watery in being. And a lonely wind laments its way among the empty tree branches. We are at a liminal point, crossing a borderland. Where for one brief moment, time hangs in suspension. Summer to winter, light to dark… death into rebirth. A cusp between the seasons.
Different cultures, different religions acknowledge the transition each in their own way. The Celtic world knows this time as Samhuinn (sow-en). The end of one year, and the beginning of another. For the calendar divides into halves, and the darker months are now in the ascendent. The old year ends at sunset on October 31st. However, the new year does not yet begin until dawn on November 1st. The hours in between are seen as ‘no time’.
An opportunity for the spirits of loved ones now gone to return and walk once more, however briefly, among the living. Custom dictates the lighting of a fire or candle to acknowledge. The setting out of a favourite food, or dish to welcome. A celebration in remembrance. A way of letting loved ones passed know they are not forgotten, but in their own way, remain still a part of our lives. Never fully gone… or far from us.
Christianity marks this liminal time as well. All Saint’s Day. When candles are lit in remembrance and prayers echo their words of comfort. Once celebrated to honour the saints of the Church, it now encompasses all who have passed. And various services are held in accordance.
Different customs, yet the message remains the same. Loved ones are missed… regardless. They can’t be called back, much as we would like otherwise. Who of us wouldn’t wish for just one more day… or even an hour with a dear one now departed?
Since time began, people have struggled with the finality of death, the letting go. It’s hard. It’s a part of life. And each culture, each religion, has developed ways of coping with this reality; one of which is a time set aside for remembrance and acknowledgement. A way to ease the grief of loss with grace… and a certain amount of acceptance.
Nature sets the example. In Autumn the leaves turn their glorious colors – a blaze of bright-shining lights in an otherwise ordinary landscape. For one brief moment each individual leaf has its time to shine, to serve a purpose, to make its mark… to be noticed and acknowledged. And, in a way – loved. Then… the tree lets go, the leaf falls, and life re-cycles round the seasons once again. In letting go, the tree makes way for the rebirth of new leaves come spring. Life moves on… so must we.
Time-honoured customs, and religious beliefs support this. Each in their own way offer comfort, helping provide the strength needed to say whatever goodbye is necessary… as dictated by nature and individual circumstance.
But there is one thing which cannot be taken from us, and that is the act of remembrance. Memories can be recalled at a moment’s notice, in the beat of a heart. Wrapping us once more in the presence of a loved one, regardless of how long gone… or removed from us in time. Love is eternal and they live on, even if simply in memory.
Come dusk on October 31st… I will light a candle, set out an oatcake with marmalade – and a wee dram. For one brief moment, I will bask in the love of those who once were… and in many ways still are. For they live in my heart. Life can never fully take them away.
The very Rev. Lord MacLeod of Fuinery offers a beautiful benediction in the following prayer. A lovely blending of Celtic lore and Christian tradition. He says it far better than I.
Take heart… and be comforted.
A Veil Thin as Gossamer
Be Thou, Triune God, in the midst of us
As we give thanks for those who have gone
From the sight of earthly eyes.
They, in Thy nearer presence,
Still worship with us
In the mystery of the one family
In heaven and on earth…
If it be Thy holy will,
Tell them how much we love them,
And how much we miss them,
And how we long for the day
When we shall meet with them again….
Strengthen us to go on in loving service
Of All Thy children.
Thus shall we have communion with Thee,
And, in Thee
With our beloved ones.
Thus shall we come to know within ourselves
That there is no death,
And that only a veil divides….
Thin as gossamer.
2 thoughts on “In Remembrance… Samhuinn”
This was so very beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. I’ve never before heard All Saint’s Day described so meaningfully. At dusk on October 31, I will light a candle and leave out malted milk balls and a cup of cocoa 🙂
What a delicious welcome in remembrance! No matter what, we always think of them and how they bless our lives still…
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