I'm pleased to announce that a friend of mine has launched a new blog for Israelis interested in Canaanite polytheism. The blog, called Canaan is Here, is written entirely in Hebrew by Israelis. 

I have updated my previous post, Know Your Middle East Religions: Ancient and Modern Polytheists, to reflect this new addition. 

Why is this important and groundbreaking? The Holy Lands were holy long before monotheism, yet many fear that fundamentalist conservative monotheist religions have obliterated the ancient ways. It's true that the situation is difficult and often dire depending on the locale for the few people who honor the ancient deities and the ancient ways. But, nonetheless, it happens.

It is mind-blowingly beautiful to know that growth, beauty, and restoration continue in our world. And there are brave, gentle souls who quietly do the heavy lifting. 

O Nanna, Suen, moon gods of
The once-great Sumer, you yet glow
Enflaming the dry seas we call
The desert. Your ephemeral,
Untouchable hands caress dust.
In deepest silence you will make
A mirror image staring back.
Each grain of sand: a star that sweeps
Across the desolation vast.

Canaanite-culture inspired music? Yes! Leave the belly dance albums behind and try something different from the Middle East. From classical music, to metal music, to meditation music, it's all here. 

Have fun with these musical goodies!

The Hymn to Nikkal

The goddess Nikkalu-wa-Ibbi, The Fruitful and Radiant one, can lay claim to the oldest recorded hymn on earth, circa 1300-1200 BCE (about 3300-3200 years ago).

In doing a search for “Hymn to Nikkal” or “Oldest Music in the World,” you will run into several different versions of this hymn found in the Canaanite city of Ugarit, in southern modern-day Syria. Here are but a few versions--keep in mind that these versions will sound different because scholars still debate how to read Ugaritic-Hurrian musical notation, and because each musician will add her or his own style to the piece.

Michael Levy’s version on the lyre. This is one of my favorites.

I was inspired to create a pocket guide to polytheists and alternative religions centered on the Middle East. These movements are growing. Very little was available when I started out as a qadish fourteen years ago, and now Middle Eastern-based religions are sprouting up everywhere. I will present a quick historical look at these religions and regions, then include where you can find them online in modern communities.

I had not intended to do a blog post today. It is a holiday for me, the ‘Ashuru Shamni, the Festival of Oil. It is a time when I make offerings of olive oil and ask that Baʻlu Haddu pour his blessings of protection over my community. But Ms. Cara Schultz in "In Syria and Egypt, Pagan Voices Fall Silent", a post made just yesterday, and Ms. Galina Krasskova: Pagan Voices Fall Silent: Polytheism in the Middle East, a response today, give me pause. 

This evening marks the holiday of ‘Ashuru Shamni, the festival of olive oil. An ancient text from the Canaanite city of Ugarit in the Late Bronze Age, about 1200 BCE (3200 years ago), details how priests made an offering of the Oil of Peace to the protective god Baʻlu Haddu (Baʻal Hadad). Let's take a look at both ancient and modern festivities at this season--including recipes!

Wisdom doesn’t care whose clothes She wears: maybe She wears a set of Carhartts and a pair of sh!t-covered boots, sometimes She wears a bejeweled crown, and sometimes She wears a kid’s onesie. But Her words, whether they come out of a farmer, a king, or a kid, are always prudent and well-timed. We become wise when we recognize Her and heed Her.

The head symbolizes much in Near Eastern philosophy. Curses and blessings alike are directed at a person’s head: “may there be a blessing on X's head” or “may [Deity] break X's skull.” The head is also a place of honor: the raising of the head or the placing a crown or wreath on the brow represents recognition. The lowering of the head represents shame, anxiety, or lack of confidence. In this sense, wearing something atop the head represents dignity or status. 

If I had a pinch of gold dust for every time a site on the internet or a Pagan book said Inanna, Astarte, Ishtar,‘Anat, and Asherah are all the same goddess, or “aspects” of the same goddess, I’d be pawning my way to the crown jewels by now. There is a great deal of misinformation regarding who these ancient goddesses are and they are often confused. So let’s unravel this tangle. We’ll explore who is whom, how these goddesses interconnect or don’t, and the reasons they became grouped together to the point of losing individuality. 

I think that the US Congress should decorate their doors with Sheela Na-Gigs because of their obsessive preoccupation with women's bodies.

We need stuff on a daily basis. It is difficult to go through an entire day without buying something: bus fare or gas for the car, food, repairs, bills, rent, medicine, elder care, child care, and so on. Since the recession, many of us make our small change go further; yet our concern for the economy also sits at the forefront of our thoughts. Companies have outsourced jobs overseas to countries that have looser restrictions and poor labor practices. This situation causes people here to lose their jobs, and it causes others overseas to get caught in terrible work environments.  The tech company Apple outsourced to Foxconn, a company infamous for their horrible conditions.  

Some of us cry foul, but really we should take a cold, hard look in the mirror. In our drive for a bargain, we’ve overlooked cheap labor. We have helped create—and still contribute to—outsourcing, job loss, wage slavery, and unethical practices.  It’s not a bargain when we short-change human life and labor. All is not lost: there are many small changes we can make to help promote a better economy here at home (wherever home is), and thus contribute to economic stability abroad.

The holiday calendar for qadishuma (people who practice Natib Qadish, Canaanite religion) is based on primary texts: Bronze Age cuneiform texts found at the city of Ugarit. These texts date to around 1200 BCE (about 3212 years ago). We also take into consideration the Gezer Calendar, a writing in early Hebrew found in Gezer, and written in 925 BCE (about 2937 years ago).

Unlike the temperate European climate where there are four seasons (spring-summer-autumn-winter) there are basically two seasons in Canaan (wet and dry) with a little transition between the two. The wet season corresponds to a northern temperate climate's seasons of autumn and winter; and the dry season includes some of a northern temperate climate's spring and summer. There are two harvests: one around the transition of the dry season to the wet season for fruit (sometime around August-September on the secular calendar); and a grain harvest as the wet season transitions to the dry season (somewhere around March-April-May on the secular calendar).

Allow me to begin with a large caveat: I am not a Pagan, or a Wiccan, and I am certainly not a witch. I do not celebrate Samhain; it’s not a part of my holiday calendar.

However, I will party down with my bad self on Halloween. I love the parade of large-eyed pudgy-fisted candy-craving pint-sized goblins who come to my door each year. I eagerly await that little brother in tow, wearing the obligatory lion, tiger, or bear costume, with whiskers and nose painted on his face: you know the kind of kiddo—so young he can’t even say “trick or treat” yet. And sometimes mom or dad comes, too, carrying a little gurgling pumpkin-baby in arms. This traditional tableau is so disgustingly adorable I nearly lose my mind. It really is my favorite American tradition.

I give all of the football players, rock stars, vampires, mad scientists, cartoon characters, and the like, lots and lots of chocolaty candy. I refuse to hand out hard candies or taffies or cheap hard pink bubblegum. I know what I wanted as a kid: forget the crud and hand over the good stuff!

However, trick-or-treater beware: I curse my candy.

This Friday night kicks off ‘Ashuru Mothbati, the Canaanite Festival of Dwellings and new year. I am looking forward to honoring the deities, feasting with my family, and performing divination. In the Shanatu Qadishtu (sacred yearly holiday cycle) of Natib Qadish, this holiday occurs on the new moon of the lunar month which encompasses the autumnal equinox. The celebration marks the end of the old year and the beginning of the new, and it honors the Canaanite fruit harvest--dates, pomegranates, grapes, and figs. We know of the holiday from texts hand-written in cuneiform by the Canaanites 3200 years ago.

From ancient roots to modern observance, this holiday honors abundance and the gifts of the deities.

Day 12 [Shalamu] (month), Shanatu 84 (year)*

A multiplying mound of books, clothes, stones, CDs, DVDs, videos, toys and tchotchkes gather on the edge of a lush Persian rug and the hardwood floor. Near a shining new shredder nests a box overflowing with obsolete paperwork and junk mail. I’ve rolled up my sleeves and I’m taking responsibility for my surroundings. Everyone has baggage, but it’s up to us to unpack and see if we really want to schlep what’s in those bags. The items that we keep around us reflect the mental state, emotions, memories we choose to value.

I can find no better activity than to engage in an activity which results in self-improvement and in giving to charity simultaneously in preparation for my new year's festival. 

In exchange for this purging, I gain more closet space, more file space, more shelf space, more organization, a better understanding of what I have, an appreciation for my many blessings, and a better grasp on where things are. I have found items missing for a year. I’ve removed ink pens and lighters from my endangered species list. The dining room table is a nice dark brown color—who would have guessed? I had the table stacked high with papers that I had been sorting.

It’s a difficult task to go through all worldly possessions and choose which to let go and which to keep. I’ve come up with a list of questions, and  “If the answer is no, I let it go.”

26 Rashu Yeni (month), Shanatu 84 (year)*

I was in the middle of a book review when a hoard of somber people walked in procession next door. Even the little sparrows all sat for a moment—a small flock of them, seated in the diamond-spaces of the chain link fence, the industrial veil separating my living space from that of the dead. It’s a humid, overcast day in the summer. I had contemplated opening up the house and shutting off the air conditioning because I am a cold-blooded cheapskate and I like warm weather far better than cold. But I’m glad I didn’t open the windows because I wouldn’t have wanted to intrude on their service. There were a lot of people there, many more people show up as they feel the loss more keenly of a life cut too short and I wonder if this is the story outside my window.

I live near a cemetery. I love it because I think cemeteries are beautiful--beautiful in form, beautiful in function. They serve as a poignant reminder of life’s value. This real estate location has difficult moments, but they are the trade-off for the quiet, the beauty, and the experience. I see the whole process: the preliminary examination of the site, the grave digging, then the procession and the graveside rite. Afterwards for a month, people will stop by and pay their respects to the newly deceased—a person, who according to my tradition, has joined the ranks of the rapiuma: the shades of the dead, the ancestral spirits who can aid the living.