I drink for the joy of my gods.
I’ve gotten out of the habit in recent months, but when sharing a beer with the gods was the norm it was brilliant. A glass bottle of craft beer, a beer opener, and a long tall glass. The crack of the opening, the sound of liquid pouring into the glass, and the yeasty, hoppy smell in the air all served to remind me to take a moment to contemplate that which sustains life.
In an offering of beer, I give it freely, an offering to the gods to refresh and restore. The glass sits on the shrine so the gods may partake. During this time, I contemplate the beer and its connection to life.
Water refreshes the heart, a libation from Abu and Khebu. Grain, the staff of life, restores health and vitality. Beer is both water and bread; it encompasses both perfect offerings that so many give to their gods each day.
Beer was used to trick “She Who Dances on Blood” into stopping her slaughter of men. A river of red beer mimicked blood closely enough that She gladly drank to excess. Her drunkenness, still celebrated today, allows us to live.
At the end of contemplation, the offering reverts. The glass is removed from the shrine, and a sip is taken. That first sip renews our connection – we eat and drink. Our cycles are the same.
Tonight, I will drink for the joy of my gods.