Since the Minoans aren't around anymore and we can't read the texts and inscriptions they wrote (Linear A hasn't been deciphered), we have to build our Minoan spiritual practice based on whatever inspiration we can find.

It turns out, there are still remnants of ancient rites that cling to life in the folk practices of Crete and other parts of Europe in this Christian era. You probably already knew this. In many places, the Christian church took over Pagan practices and renamed them, like the Irish goddess Brigit becoming a Christian saint.

I recently ran across an article about an ancient practice that survives in Crete and neighboring areas in a Christian guise. In this tradition, on Epiphany (6 January) a Christian priest throws a cross into the water and a bunch of young men vie to retrieve it. Apparently the rite evolved from a much older one that involved blessing the spirits of streams, lakes, and other bodies of water. Dance ethnology research also suggests that this might have been a way, in pre-Christian times, for people to celebrate the coming-of-age of young men and possibly also to choose a young man for special religious offices.

So when we got hold of this information over in Ariadne's Tribe, we were inspired to create a new addition to our sacred calendar. We're calling it the Blessing of the Waters, and we celebrate it on the first Full Moon after Winter Solstice, a date which dance ethnology research suggests may have been the date for the original pre-Christian celebration.

Those of us who live in modern developed countries are spoiled about water. All we have to do is turn on a tap to get all we want, hot or cold. Now granted, the Minoans were pretty high-tech about water for their time. They had aqueducts that brought water into the cities and towns from Crete's mountain springs, and they dug canals to bring water to their fields. They even had fresh water piped into some buildings and homes as well as enclosed sewers to take waste water away safely.

But still, they had to lug their water around in buckets. And they knew that in bad years, the springs would all but dry up in the summer, leaving them to hope they had stored enough rainwater in their cisterns to make it through until the rains started up in the autumn. During the hot Cretan summer, the smaller streams and creeks dry up completely and the rivers slow down to a trickle. Water is life.

So we want to honor the water, wherever we are. Dance ethnology research suggests that this rite was originally associated with the Winter Solstice, possibly held on the first Full Moon afterwards. So that’s when we celebrate it: the first Full Moon after Winter Solstice, which may fall any time from late December to mid-January in the northern hemisphere and any time from late June to mid-July in the southern hemisphere.

What happens in this rite? We go to the nearest body of water, whether that's a stream, pond, lake, river, or the ocean. If you live somewhere that's land-locked with no natural water nearby, you could put out a bowl to catch rain water and use that. Failing that, water from your tap will work. But don't use bottled water, even if it's natural spring water, because it's not local - it was imported from far away, and the point of this rite is to get in touch with your local water.

We make offerings: perhaps some incense and a song, perhaps some food that would be safe for the wildlife of the area (birdseed is a good choice). We touch the water and thank it, tell it how much we value it. Then we touch the water to ourselves - anoint your forehead, if you like, or if you're doing the rite in a group, sprinkle the water lightly over all the participants. A small bunch of fresh herbs makes a great tool for this (it's called an aspergillum).

This rite could also be used for coming-of-age for boys, though obviously if you're going to have a young man jump into the water in January, you want to be sure he's healthy enough for it to be safe, and have plenty of blankets and hot drinks on hand for afterward if you live in the part of the world where January is wintertime. While the Christian version involves throwing a cross into the water to be retrieved, we think tossing a labrys would be a good choice. Again, making offerings to the spirit of the water and thanking it for its value in your life is a good idea.

If you're feeling intrepid, you could also use this rite the way we think it might have been used in ancient times, to choose a special young man for some sacred office. Thankfully, human sacrifice is out of fashion, but if you're looking for a dramatic way to pick a priest for your Pagan group, this fits the bill.

So this is how Paganism grows. It's a sure bet that we're not doing this rite exactly the way it was performed in ancient times. But times change, and I'm pretty sure the deities and spirits understand that. As modern Pagans, we're building a practice that works for us in our time. What is remembered, lives, even if it's in slightly different form.

Image: The Cretan coastline and the Mediterranean sea (Pixabay, public domain)