Lammas: The First Harvest, Sacrifice & the Turning of the Wheel
The halcyon, gold of the harvest, of the Element of Earth and of the Sabbat known as Lammas/Lughnasadh calls itself down from the sun. Summer’s fire has softened its edges, burning itself out into the gilded glow of heavy grains, ripe fruits, and bulging fields. This is a most sacred time of gratitude, of the Lord’s Prayer, of thanks and appreciation for the bounty of the harvest and the fruits of our labours.
This rich celebration of soil, sunlight, and sacrifice feels potent and necessary, yet it has fallen into the shadow of folklore, and the edges of things where the old ways are mistaken for fairy tales. While our ghosts dance for the harvest and the blessings of the Gods, they also mourn—aware that the grain sacrifices itself at its prime to be made into bread, that the fruits are taken in their bloom, and that summer’s peak is giving way to whatever awaits on its other side.
The First Harvest: Sacrifice, Transformation, and Renewal
In many traditions, the first fruits of the harvest are offered to the gods as a gesture of gratitude and a symbolic acknowledgement of the cycle of life and death. Lammas itself marks the first harvest, particularly of grain, and is deeply associated with sacrifice, transformation, and renewal. The sacrificed grain, cut down in its ripest manifestation, is transformed into bread, which in turn sustains life—an archetypal motif seen across all timelines and all cultures.
From a mythological and philosophical perspective, this sacrifice is as essential to the harvest as it is to the mother who gives her prime so that her children may grow strong. A story told again and again through Demeter and Persephone, the White Stag or any number of tales by Hans Christian Andersen in which a mother must make the ultimate sacrifice for the life of her child.
Death and Sacrifice in Nature
In the Celtic tradition, Lammas is deeply tied to Lugh, a solar deity renowned as a master of many skills and a figure embodying both kingship and sacrifice. His festival, Lughnasadh, was established in honour of his mother, Tailtiu, who, according to legend, gave her life clearing the land for agriculture—a powerful reminder that clearing the land may result in death!
The seasonal theme of sacrifice and renewal continues to resonate across mythologies without boundary. In Egyptian lore, Osiris is dismembered, his scattered body fertilizing the land and ensuring its continued abundance. Similarly, in the Christian Eucharist, bread—once grain—is transformed into the sacred body of Christ, symbolizing both death and spiritual sustenance.
Lammas and the Earth Element in Chinese Medicine
Through the lens of birth, maturation, and death, Lammas is the gateway to the Earth Element and the shifting of seasons from the Yang of Spring and Summer to the Yin of Autumn and Winter. Around me, the She-Oak seeds are big and heavy, clustered many to a branch, while all of nature ripens, gathers, and prepares.
In the Five Element Theory, Earth governs stability, nourishment, and life’s transitions—just as Lammas shifts us between the fiery height of summer and the cooling descent into autumn.
Earth rules the Spleen and Stomach meridians, which regulate digestion and our capacity to take in our daily bread — not only physically but also spiritually. The Earth Element teachings are straight up and direct like Earth herself, wanting us to understand nourishment as a circular relationship. The way we nourish ourselves and others, the way we process the fruits of our labour, and how we balance giving and receiving is at its core.
Our capacity for self-care and regulation, for tending to and trusting the Earth beneath us as the telluric that holds all life must itself be nurtured. When we understand this simple lore we will know what it truly means to be human. Homo, meaning "man", and humus, meaning "earth".
Through the Earth Element, we learn to balance sympathy and empathy, giving and receiving, and through this, we understand the lore of the harvest:
Protect and nurture what you plant.
Finish what you start.
The dying are the keepers of the seeds.
The seeds hold the blueprint of the future.
There is a growing seriousness in the Earth Element, there among its bounty. In the Late Summer growth begins to wane. The peak has triumphed, and now, the road turns toward autumn. Soon, the glitz and tinsel will fall, and only the bones will remain. Late summer asks after your inner harvest:
Did you sow the right seeds?
What fruits have you borne?
The Songs of the Soil
Lammas is the song we sing to the Earth, a hymn of agriculture, grazing, and hunting, of sustenance, hearth, and lineage.
In the grain that is harvested, we see the mystery of life and death intertwined. The sheaf, the fruit, the flesh—once full of life—must give of itself to become bread.
Similarly in the Christian esoteric tradition, the Transfiguration of Christ is celebrated around this time. It is a revelation on a mountain, where Jesus becomes Christ, where his ministry pivots towards its ultimate mission, that of the sacrifice itself.
In this mythology, the final gift of Christ was the crucifixion, in the same way, the final gift of the growing cycle is Lammas and the acknowledgement that all outer abundance must be matched by an inner ripening of the soul.
Harvesting Dreams: Ritual and Reflection of Lammas
Today the sun still shines brightly and it's warm enough for swimming and walking about barefoot, but the shift has begun. A turning in feels upon us, a quieting where our face might turn away from the sun.
Over these weeks our ritual work may focus on:
Gratitude—What have you grown and nurtured?
Release—What must be cut down to make way for the new?
Sustenance—What lessons and strength will you carry into the darker months?
May this harvest day be one not only of the bread on our tables but of our living sustenance. As the fruits of the Earth are gathered, may we too gather our striving and our efforts, and offer them up in service to God/ Source / Spirit. The spiral continues, and may we move with it.
Yx
