Month 3, Day 11: Druidism

I don’t know about you, but when I hear the word druid, I picture a really old guy—like, cartoonishly wrinkly and old—with a long gaunt face, sunken eyes, and a dark red robe with a pointy hood on the top of his head.

Maybe I’ve just seen bits and pieces of too many fantasy movies, but never enough to give me any real understanding of what a druid is (since I have a tendency to fall asleep during movies). When I found out that druidism is one of the three main branches of modern-day paganism (along with witchcraft and shamanism), I was pretty curious.

The original druids held a place of honor in ancient Celtic society. They were both philosophers and priests—important roles among people who didn’t have all the science, technology, and other nonsense that we have today. (Just kidding. Maybe.)

The druids were also the healers and religious counselors of the Celtic people, kind of like the shamans of Native American societies (which we’ll talk about another time). Funny—even knowing how important druids were, I still keep picturing that old guy, except now he’s brewing up some kind of weird potion, with smoke coming out of it. . . .

Apparently, other people have different images of druids from mine. According to my research, druids are often stereotyped as the earliest of the “tree-huggers,” which isn’t surprising when you consider the fact that they did, in fact, have great respect for trees (like most pagans, who love nature). Druids also held their most sacred rituals in a special grove of trees called a nemeton, so the “tree-hugger” label makes a lot of sense.

Despite their role as leaders in Celtic society, the first druids didn’t preserve their thought and practice in writing for posterity (which, as a writer, I’ve got to say I find absolutely appalling). Instead, they passed down their wisdom orally, from one master druid to his student.

That means there’s nothing left today, at least in the druids’ own words, to tell us what they really believed or how they worshipped. And, thanks to the invading Romans who, upon their arrival in the British Isles around 55 c.e., wiped out a lot of the druids, the ancient druidic tradition was pretty much eliminated.

Or was it? Just like anything else that appeals to a select few people (bell-bottom pants, for example), druidism didn’t stay dead.

Most of the original druids who survived the Roman invasion embraced Christianity (perhaps to make sure they continued to survive).

Then, during the Renaissance, some people in France and Great Britain started to look back on their history, and they came to see the ancient druids as romantic figures, as some of their greatest thinkers. That notion took hold, and by the 1700s, people were starting “new” orders of druids as their way of connecting with what they viewed as their noble spiritual heritage.

By the 20^th century, when Gerald Gardner and his pals were busy establishing Wicca and other people were proposing paganism as a viable alternative to mainstream churches, druidism—in its new and updated form—became part of the movement.

Modern druidism—and maybe old-school druidism, too, although it’s hard to be 100% sure—is based on a deep reverence for nature (like most of paganism) and divides its followers into three main subgroups: bards, seers, and druids.

The druids are the real diehards. They see themselves just like their ancient counterparts, as society’s thinkers, priests, scientists, and the keepers of wisdom about all kinds of things, from religious ritual to healing. To reach the level of a true druid requires some heavy-duty training and commitment, because the position isn’t just about knowledge; it’s also about leading other people on the path of druidism.

If you’re not quite ready to put in the time to become a full-fledged “druid,” there are still ways to practice the faith. You can always be a bard.

Although most people think of bards as musicians and story-tellers, they are more than that, at least in druidism. Bards serve as the repository of the group’s lore and history, and they help people understand and appreciate their spiritual traditions. A modern-day bard doesn’t have to have great musical skill (though it certainly doesn’t hurt). Any artistic endeavor—from dance to writing to drama—is legitimate work for a bard.

But if that’s not up your alley, there’s still one category of druid left for the neo-pagan: the seer, or ovate. (Ovate means “prophet.”) Seers are the visionaries or psychics of druidism. As Carl McColman writes, “In a ritual, it is the seer’s job to listen for any sign that the Gods may be communicating with the grove [the group of druids].”

Wow. Tall order. I think, if I ever want to be a druid, I’ll leave the leadership functions and the seer stuff to others. I’d be much better off as a bard. I may not be able to sing or play a musical instrument, but boy, can I dance! Okay, I’m lying. But I had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?