The Celebration of Summer

When Pagan is new again 

Many centuries ago, the existence of those living in Eastern European lands was ruled by the rhythms of the seasons. The most important events involved changes in the natural world. The arrival of every new season was a magical moment, where cosmic forces burst to the surface, taking on a special significance and determining much of what was happening in the present and what would happen in the future. In this perpetual cycle of natural elements and phenomena, the Sun plays a tremendous role. 

When the Sun’s power is at a minimum, Earth is covered with snow and it was believed that ancestral spirits walked its surface, potentially coming into contact with the living, who may thus be able to find out what the future holds. This is at the end of December, a time when it was customary to dress in strange, animal costumes, to prepare foods fitting for a wake (or rather, pominki, in Russian) and leave them out for the departed to come and feast on it. Those who took part in the magical processions that went from house to house singing songs were rewarded with generous gifts of food – a mystical token of future prosperity and wealth. 

When the Sun regained its power and winter gave way to spring, ceremonies had to be conducted that would magically reinforce the power of the Sun and help nature awaken from its slumber. This is the origin of the bliny consumed during Maslenitsa, and the bonfires on which winter was burned in effigy, as well as the vast number of rituals to prepare livestock, peasant homesteads, and even the tools with which the land would be cultivated. 

And then, when the Sun came into its full strength, summer made its entrance. The most important events of the year began to take place. Deep beneath the soil, from the seeds cast upon the ground, ears of grain started to erupt; the next harvest came to life; the power of nature was reaching its zenith. The magical force of flowers, grasses and trees proliferated and it was believed that water sprites, having spent most of the year asleep under ground, came to the surface and swung from tree branch to tree branch. The magical denizens of the woods – snakes, bears, wood goblins – were awake. 

The task of people in all of this was to support the great force of Nature, to conduct the required rituals without which the natural cycle cannot exist. And so, on the night of July 6-7 (according to the present calendar), when the sun shines with its greatest force, night is short and days are amazingly long, rituals were observed that called upon the great elements of fire and water to help mankind. 

During the first hours of July 7 (June 24 before Russia switched to the Gregorian calendar), peasants set tremendous bonfires and jumped over them, bathed naked in rivers, sang and danced around the fires, and rolled tremendous burning wheels that were then pushed into the water. Fire and water prevailed: the fiery wheels were like symbols of the Sun and those who danced and sang in circular khorovody around the bonfires also suggested the Sun’s circular path. Fire and water were united, a joining akin to the principle of the masculine and feminine. Indeed, throughout the ages, vast numbers of couples came together on this night – a time when anything goes. 

Ten centuries after the birth of Christ, Rus became a Christian nation. But this did not alter the pagan foundations of peasant life. It is believed that there were remote places where people contrived to openly profess paganism up until the fourteenth century, not allowing churches to be built or priests to enter their communities. Gradually, however, the church managed to spread its influence over virtually the entire territory of Rus. The peal of church bells could be heard everywhere in the country and church holidays became the most important events in the lives of both rural and urban populations. 

But in the countryside, under the surface, life still followed the unhurried and unchanging courses set through thousands of years of pagan tradition. Ancient beliefs molded themselves to fit new ways of life. Veneration of ancestors in December became associated with Christmas, feasting on pancakes during Maslenitsa became the final frolic before the deprivations of the Great Fast leading up to Easter. Springtime agricultural rituals were performed on the Thursday of Holy Week. 

And what about the summer celebration of the elements? It just so happened that this day coincided with the birthday of John the Baptist, who had foretold the coming of Christ and christened the Savior in the Jordan River. The magical powers of water were thus given a Christian “basis.” But the nature of the celebration – known as Ivan Kupala, from the verb kupatsya, to bathe – remained the same. Whatever view village priests may have taken, bonfires were still lit, peasants still swam naked, and couples went off into the woods. And, of course, everyone knew that, during this magical night, trees and grasses began to speak, that this was the only night of the year when the fern flowered – a plant that could be used to locate treasures sleeping underground, in the kingdom of the dead. 

In the nineteenth century, when ethnographers started to study and describe Russian village rituals, they were struck by how many pagan beliefs had survived almost unchanged over the millennia. Peasants, often unaware of the ancient meaning of their rituals, and sincerely believing themselves to be true Orthodox Christians, nonetheless were following the practices of their pre-Christian ancestors. The ancient gods were still around; they had merely been transformed into Christian saints. For example, the protector of beasts and wealth – Veles – had become St. Vlasy, the protector of livestock. Others became spirits – wood goblins (leshiye) or house goblins (domovoi) – the reality of which no one doubted. During Ilya’s Week in August, the Biblical prophet Ilya traveled across the sky in a rumbling chariot – the explanation behind thunderstorms. As late as the 19th century, people brought bulls to church on St. Ilya’s Day, not realizing that the bull had always been the animal associated with Perun, god of thunder. In 1925, peasants in Leningrad Oblast decided to appease nature just as their ancestors had done. Hoping for a good harvest, they tied a young girl to a tree in the forest, offering her as a bride to the lord of the forest – the bear. Fortunately, times had already changed and the poor girl was saved before her groom had a chance to make her acquaintance. 

And what about Ivan Kupala? Even today, everyone – both in the city and the country – knows about this holiday, largely thanks to Gogol’s dark tale “St. John’s Eve,” in which a fern flowers and an evil witch forces a village youth to kill an innocent baby. Everyone remembers that Ivan Kupala is a time for lighting bonfires and swimming naked. Some use this night as an occasion for high-society gatherings and wild parties; others mark it with more folkloric celebrations. These observances are marked by a certain artificiality, as are many attempts to “revive” ancient rituals.

Of course, today many rituals have been completely forgotten. It seems unlikely that there are still farmsteads where women rise at dawn on the Thursday of Holy Week to circle their houses naked, using juniper branches to sprinkle livestock and farm tools with water. And it is hard to imagine that on New Year’s Eve there are still men who hide behind pastries while their wives pretend not to see them, a rather simple act of wizardry intended to ensure tall and healthy crops in the coming year. But many rituals refuse to give way to the onslaught of modern life. There are still places where people dress up and go caroling on Christmas, and while observance of the Great Fast (Lent) is far from universal in Russia, bliny are prepared during Maslenitsa even by those who do not consider themselves Orthodox Christians. 

And, of course, in any part of the country, at any natural spring considered a source of holy water, one can find a little church or chapel. But then, nearby, you will always also see a tree with its branches covered with colorful ribbons – left by pilgrims who are acting out an ancient pagan ritual of leaving offerings to the water spirit. In June, during the Orthodox holiday, Trinity Week, some will go to church while others will decorate their homes with birch branches, since this is the time, also known as “Green Yuletide,” when rusalki swing on them. The details of such rituals may have been forgotten, but their essence – the great power of the natural elements – will probably never die. And St. John’s Eve will remain an eerie and majestic moment of transition, even for those who know nothing of how their ancestors marked this night.