A Pagan Ritual Prayer Book (4 page)

The use of synonyms in succeeding verses is called parallelism. This is a form of repetition in which it is the idea that's repeated, not the words. For instance:

• I pray to you for help,
  

  I ask you for your aid.
  

   
  

In this case, each line has two words that have synonyms in the other. This can even be done with more than three lines:

• We give praise to the Shining Ones.
  

  We honor the High Holy Ones.
  

   
  

  We worship them as is right.
  

   
  

This example shows how you can combine different techniques for effect. “Give praise to,” “honor,” and “worship” are parallels that tie the three lines together, as does the number of syllables (eight per line) and the “we” at the beginning of each. The last line differs from the others, however. The first two have a second parallel—“Shining Ones” and “High Holy Ones.” This is missing in the final line, replaced by the pronoun “them,” which has been shifted toward the beginning. This leaves a hole, into which something new has been dropped—a reason for the action(s). There are two ways this structure can be expressed: 1 / 2 // 1 /2 // 1 / 3, or action//action//action/reason.

In these ways this prayer, short as it is, has been tied together and still provides a clear ending. We've seen the same clear ending in syllable counts and final couplets, and here we see how you can use more than one technique to cap off a prayer.

Other techniques can be used, of course—the two last words can alliterate, for instance. Don't use too many of these techniques at once, however, or the prayer may seem fussy. Don't feel as if you always have to have a hard-hitting end, either. Sometimes a prayer can be effective when it just trails off.

Prayers should be beautiful, and there are many ways to achieve that. A prayer can be a gothic cathedral, lacy and strong. It can be a Japanese tea room, sparse and balanced. It can be a Picasso, showing different sides of an idea all at once. Pick a method and stick with it for the length of the prayer. Otherwise you will have a mess on your hands.

There are many other poetic techniques that can be used to good effect in prayers to increase both their beauty and their depth. This book is threatening to become a handbook on poetry, however, so I will simply recommend that you consult any one of a number of introductions to poetry. Wikipedia's entry on “poetry” is a good place to start.

More important, read poets, especially the greats. You probably read them in school, but read them again. Read Whitman and Frost and Yeats, and yes, Shakespeare too, both his poetry and his prose. Read over your favorites— they're your favorites for a reason. Read other people's poetic prayers, ancient and modern, even non-Pagan ones.
The Book of Common Prayer
is a good source.

While you are reading, allow yourself to absorb. See what turns of phrase are used. Get a feel for how one word flows into another, and for how sentences are ordered. Pay attention to how two words that are supposed to mean the same thing can still feel different.

Immerse yourself in poets, pick up their style, and try to write like them. Write hymns to the Greek gods in the style of the Homeric hymns, and to the Vedic gods in the style of the
Rig Veda
. Don't worry that you aren't being original in this; you are trying on styles to find your own. Try out the styles of modern poets, too. Try to write a prayer like Frost or Yeats, for instance. Eventually you will find a style or styles that appeal to you. You will then find it easy to write in that style and to respond to prayers written in it.

Case in point: J. R. R. Tolkien wrote an extended poem in Germanic alliterative form (Tolkien, 1985). When I was reading it over the course of a few days, I became immersed in the style. As I was planning my day in the shower on one of those days, I realized that I was thinking in the style. Perhaps you won't be influenced to that extent (perhaps you
shouldn't
be), but some transfer will take place, and this will be a step toward developing your own style.

There is no shame in adopting another's style. If it is beautiful, if it speaks to you, then why not? No sense reinventing the wheel. But maybe your survey of other people's styles will lead you to realize that you don't like any of them, and that may lead you to create your own style or styles. Great, go for it.

Do all this and you will find a style that works for you. Do that well enough, and your style will work for others. At the very least, however, do it well enough that it works for the deities to whom it is addressed. Don't be so afraid that your work isn't good enough that you abandon the effort; be just afraid enough to want to write the best prayers you can.

One thing that will help you in this is to remember that prayers are meant to be spoken aloud. You are writing for speech, not for sight. Speak your prayers, either as you compose them or after. You need to learn not only how words fit together, but also how they sound.

Good poetry is easy to say. A good structure keeps the tongue from tripping over words; one follows the other in a natural way. The beauty of structure makes possible a beauty of performance.

This overlaps with another function of specific forms— that they are comfortable by being familiar. For instance, even though the haiku wasn't designed for prayer, its format is well-enough known that the format is comfortable to hear and say.

A nonintuitive function of structured form is that the work involved in creating a prayer can be balanced by the ease with which it can be said. The form does a share of the work. Well-structured prayers, no matter how much sweat has gone into them, can be easier to say than conversational ones.

So far, we have talked about techniques for arranging words, for giving them a structure. There are also rules and techniques for arranging the ideas in a prayer—for how to structure the prayer as a whole. Writing prayers is made easier by using one of a number of prayer structures. In
A Book of Pagan Prayer
, I discussed one of them.

In this form, you begin by identifying the deity addressed. This can be done in one or more ways: by name, by title, or by relating a myth: “Indra, Killer of V
tra, who freed the cows.” Titles can express different sides of a deity. Is Brighid “inspirer of poets,” “goddess of the hearth,” or “provider of sustenance”? She is all of these, and a praise of her that mentions them all may be the better for it. Titles can also be used in a limiting way, to specify which aspect of the deity is being called upon—a kind of “heads-up” as to the request that is coming up. “Mars who guards my field” is subtly different from “Mars who guards our armies.”

Next comes praise. The relation of a myth may be considered praise, but something more explicit is commonly used. Titles often convey praise: “Bull of a thousand cows, warrior of unconquerable strength.”

This is followed by a reminder of what the worshipper has done for the deity in the past and vice versa: “To whom I have many times offered butter, offered foaming drinks, who has been my protector and aid in struggles past.” This establishes that the worshipper and the deity already have a relationship; one does favors for friends.

This may overlap and slide into reasons why the deity should grant the request. This can include favors done by the deity in the past, with the assumption that they'll be willing to perform them again, and a reminder that the request is within the area of the deity's function.

Then comes the current request: “I ask of you further protection, further aid, further support in today's confrontation.” Note the parallels in our developing prayer. Words are repeated from previous lines (“protect,” “aid”) or replaced with synonyms (“struggles,” “confrontation”). There is also augmentation, perhaps to suggest that this request is a continuation of past gifts, or to drive the prayer forward: “protect” and “aid” becomes “protect,” “aid,” and “support.” The petition can be in the form of a request: “May you grant this.” Or, oddly enough, it may be spoken as a command: “Grant this.”

The prayer is finished with a promise or vow. It may be general: “I will always have reason to remember and praise you.” Or it may be more specific: “Wellprotected, I will offer you butter, burned in the fire, after my victory.”

The final prayer reads like this:

• Indra, Killer of V
  tra, who freed the cows,
  

  Bull of a thousand cows, warrior of unconquerable strength,
  

   
  

  to whom I have many times offered butter, offered foaming drinks,
  

   
  

  who has been my protector and aid in struggles past:
  

   
  

  I ask of you further protection, further aid, further support in today's confrontation.
  

   
  

  Well-protected, I will offer to you butter, burned in the fire, after my victory.
  

   
  

This is the standard structure of prayers to Indo-European deities, those of most of the cultures from Europe to India, and it is a good one to use in general. Other cultures have other traditional structures. Typical Egyptian prayers, for instance (Redford, 2002, 313–4), are structured like this:

First is praise, often with many titles: “Isis, throne of kings, mother of gods and men, whose name was praised in Egypt and Rome.”

Then comes a description of the one praying, often self-deprecating: “I who am poor in goods, and weak in power, and in need of aid, pray to you.”

Next, a mention of a specific transgression, especially if it is seen as having caused the problem the prayer is about: “I, who in my weakness have violated the commands of heaven.”

Then follows the request, especially in terms of the violation: “I who am weak from transgressing the holy way, who have become ill from my transgression, ask for healing from the disease I suffer.”

Now comes a promise of future praise, especially in a public way: “I who have prayed to you will make your power well-known to those I encounter.”

Finally, there is a description of the request as if already granted: “I say this, I who have been healed by you, Isis, queen of heaven.”