Showing posts with label grapes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grapes. Show all posts

Monday, November 11, 2013

Armistice/Veterans' Day, , the "Eleventh Hour," St. Martin of Tours, and Old Agricultural Practices, posted by Melinda

(photo source)
"The eleventh hour...": perhaps you've heard that phrase, as in "Wow, you sure waited till the 11th hour to get *that* done!" The phrase goes back to the Bible (Matthew 20:6, in the parable of the vineyards--click here), but in succeeding millenia, the notion of 11 o'clock, especially on November 11th, took on further meaning. As food blogger/photographer Cynthia Bertelson notes (click here for her blog), it was on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 that Marshall Foch declared that all hostilities would cease at 11:00 a.m., French time, and would not resume until further notice. (For her post on Armistice Day and St. Martin of Tours, click here--hers is one of the most beautiful blogs we follow; it's called "Gherkins and Tomatoes," and you'll see it in the blog list at lower left.) About a century earlier, all Prussian serfs also had been freed on November 11th (probably because of the date's connection to both agriculture and religion); Bertelsen lists other military treaties, too, that were signed over the years on November 11th, beginning in 1500 CE.

So what has this to do with St. Martin of Tours and old agricultural observances?  As Bertelson explains, the choice of the 11th hour on the 11th day reveals the Catholic traditions that many of the Allies shared, in particular that November 11th is the Feast Day of St. Martin of Tours, patron saint of soldiers, beggars, vintners, innkeepers, and geese (yes, there's a Martinist story behind the geese, those darn loud-mouths [!], which you can read on Bertelson's post!). The significance of beggars hired to work in the vineyards is clarified if you read all of Chapter 20 in Matthew--see here--e.g., he who is last shall be first, "for many are called but few chosen," a notion that also has been applied at times to soldiers.

Jean-Francois Millet, Killing the Hog, National
Gallery of Canada, late 1860s (source)
For our purposes, in the context of farming, November 11th--Martinmas--was regarded as the beginning of winter and the day that religious rites connected with Advent began. Martinmas marked the seeding of wheat for the following year, as well as the grape harvest and production of new wine, and the slaughter and preservation of wheat-fattened hogs, calves, geese, and other animals to provide meat over the winter. (The connection to wheat and grapes, of course, has religious overtones, as does the concept of slaughter/sacrifice.)

Many of us don't like to think about such slaughter, but it was a necessity at the time to put food by to get through the lean winter ahead. (The Bible often uses harvest and slaughter as parables for the cycle of life-death-life; even Jesus was not a vegetarian--click here for a Red Hill Root article on the controversy over Jesus' dietary habits; see page 5.) Hence the harvest also was a time of feasting for all (starting at the 11th hour), including beggars and serfs, with goose often featuring in the feast. I have to say, however, that Millet's painting, above, always makes me sad, as pigs and hogs are such intelligent animals, and the hog knows what's coming up (or coming down) for him or her. The children watching in the background are there to reinforce the notion of cyclical life-death-life, as, when they mature, they too will kill the hog.

Finally, the wheat that had been harvested, again reinforcing both pre-Christian and Christian concepts of life-death-life, was baked into bread loaves shaped like humans, as shown in this lovely, atmospheric photograph by Cynthia Bertelsen.
Martinmas bread, photo by Cynthia Bertelsen (source)

Friday, March 29, 2013

Easter, Fertility, and Farming, by Melinda

Obviously, for Christians Easter is the most significant holiday of the liturgical year, as it celebrates rebirth, regrowth, new spiritual beginnings, and a new life in the most spectacular fashion.

Crossing over in lunisolar calendar
But there are fascinating historical aspects of Easter that lend it other nuances. For one, it's the only "movable" holiday in the Western liturgical calendar--that is, like almost all Hebrew and Muslim holidays, it's calculated by a lunar or "lunisolar" method, while other Christian holidays have set dates in the Gregorian calendar. Easter 2013, for instance, falls on the first Sunday (31st March) after the first full moon (27th March) after 20th March (the Spring Equinox).  Hence, in any given year it can occur from March 22nd to April  25th; according to one scholar, the year-to-year sequence of Easter dates is so complex that it "takes 5.7 million years to repeat"!

This lunisolar calculation is similar to Jewish Passover or Pesach, which occurs around the same time as Easter and marks the beginning of the harvest season in Israel, as well as celebrating the Jews' release from
bondage into a new life (mirroring the theme of rebirth in Christian Easter). The seven foods that were sacred to the Jews (of which Jesus was one) symbolized the seasons of a year's farming, the Jewish connection to the "good land," and a hoped-for abundant harvest--pomegranates, dates, olives, figs, grapes, and wheat (linked with Passover). Jesus' selection of wheat and grapes (wine) at the last Passover meal to represent an abundant "new life," hence, is symbolically profound both theologically and in terms of the land, the soil.

The Worm Moon
Further, vis-a-vis farming, the March full moon is called the Worm Moon, a name bestowed on it by the Algonquins, as this is when the ground begins to soften and worms with their castings reappear, worm-castings (poop) being one of the richest components of the soil and a sure sign of healthy, fertile, organic soil. That's also why robins are so numerous at this time of year, eating lots of worms in early-morning darkness before they lay their eggs around mid-morning (click here for more). The connection between eggs, the moon, fertility, and the growth of new life is at the heart of much Easter symbolism, if you go back far enough in history.

"Easter," for instance, according to the English monk and Christian writer Bede, was named after "Eostre" or "Ostara," the Saxon dawn-goddess of fertility and new life. Eostre had many goddess-analogues in other cultures, including Aphrodite, Astarte, Ishtar, Hathor, Kali, and Demeter (mother of Persephone; we talked about Persephone's symbolism in farming in an earlier post [click here]).
Eostre

What links these goddesses with both Easter and farming is their association with earth's fertility, fostered through cycles of death/darkness/dirt and life/light/air, both seasonally and liturgically. Kali, for instance, in Hindu culture, was described as "the ground," meaning "the mysterious source of life," "ultimate reality," and "the very soil, all-creating and all-consuming." As farmers and gardeners, we need to revere "the ground"--that is, the soil, the humus, which is the earthly source of life and growth--and we need to understand both its productive and destructive cycles, that life springs from death, which of course is also the idea behind the Easter liturgy.

In their role as progenitors of fertility, these goddesses sometimes were
The hare's decorated egg-gift
symbolized by eggs, which of course are a source of new life
. Our popular custom of giving Easter eggs thus also has ancient roots. As far back as 3000 BCE in ancient Persia, red-dyed eggs were given to mark the start of spring.  But why are our Easter eggs delivered by a rabbit? According to one legend, the goddess Eostre found an injured bird and saved its life by transforming it to a hare (another animal associated with springtime and fertility). But the transformation was incomplete, and the hare retained the bird's ability to lay eggs. To thank Eostre for its life, the hare decorated its eggs, leaving them as gifts for Eostre. The constellation Lepus,which can be seen just south of Orion, is, in fact, Eostre's egg-laying hare! Think of that when you watch our new hens this spring and summer at the Farm!  Think of Eostre's dying bird, reborn as a rabbit!
Constellation Lepus