1.
We tend to think of religion when we think of rituals because that's where they appear at their most deliberate and obvious, and it's this link with the divine, spiritual, mysterious and awe-inspiring that of course has led to their inclusion in horror and supernatural fiction. But they are everywhere in life, often completely unconscious: from the order and manner in which we do things before leaving the house or when we come home from work; the ways in which we greet each other and say goodbye (language is full of ritual features); the motions we are expected to go through when buying an overpriced coffee or haggling over a Turkish carpet; motions we are expected to go through at a job interview or on a date; the games that we play for sport and what we do watching them; how we perform music or drama or comedy and what we do watching them; to what we say and how we move when we gather to celebrate, commiserate or protest... These traditions, habits and expectations are part of the functioning of a society, a shared language of symbols and behaviour through which we can understand each other, and the world, and navigate our way through it.
I have always been a bit sniffy and dismissive of ritual in everyday life, I know; perhaps sometimes unfairly, as traditions and rituals do serve an important purpose in social cohesion and stability, and even our ability to make sense of the world. But at the same time there is something maddeningly knee-jerk and brain-dead about how we can often all simply fall into step and thoughtlessly repeat the same old actions - long after they have ceased to actually do what they were designed to, long after they have come to symbolise something quite different from what they profess to, or long after they have become simply empty and impotent gestures that have no remotely rational purpose. And there can be something maddeningly pompous in how we can take tradition and ritual all so seriously. But I know my behaviour is chock full of habit and ritual too - and a ritual is, if nothing else, a comfort.
2.
I have always been a bit sniffy and dismissive of ritual in everyday life, I know; perhaps sometimes unfairly, as traditions and rituals do serve an important purpose in social cohesion and stability, and even our ability to make sense of the world. But at the same time there is something maddeningly knee-jerk and brain-dead about how we can often all simply fall into step and thoughtlessly repeat the same old actions - long after they have ceased to actually do what they were designed to, long after they have come to symbolise something quite different from what they profess to, or long after they have become simply empty and impotent gestures that have no remotely rational purpose. And there can be something maddeningly pompous in how we can take tradition and ritual all so seriously. But I know my behaviour is chock full of habit and ritual too - and a ritual is, if nothing else, a comfort.
2.
Which brings me back to what rituals are not. The idea that doing a ritual just once could produce some new and startling effect - the idea of a ritual as the catalyst for some a creative and dynamic action such as opening a portal, casting a spell or conjuring a demon - is kind of the opposite of what a ritual really does. Rituals are an attempt to KEEP THINGS THE SAME - to solidify and make concrete an idea or behaviour by repeating it again and again. Think about where rituals are deliberately done - religious services, marriages, funerals, remembrance services, awards ceremonies, military parades, seasonal celebrations, or even superstitious behaviours and OCD-like ticks - and it is obvious that these are repeated symbolic actions that are designed to try to leave a lasting mark on the ever-changing maelstrom of life as it flows by - a bid for reliable regularity in a transient and uncertain world.
Rituals mark a milestone, remember past lessons we do not want to forget or keep an idea or belief alive; they codify a useful way of doing things - knowledge, skills and strategy through practice; they train social behaviour or create a norm for how to act and what to expect; they try to exert control or comfort where it is sorely lacking. If we want to sombrely remember Archfiend Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, or maybe celebrate His Satanic Majesty's 13.8 billionth birthday, or maybe ensure that Cthulhu's heart-warming life advice or innovative guitar technique are never forgotten, by all means, lets get a ritual going. But as for actually summoning those guys and making new things happen, forget it. The only effect ritual actually has is on human psychology and behaviour.
