RitualsEsbats: The Witches’ Full Moon Rite

The night arrives silver. Past the roofline the moon lifts full and cold, and the ordinary hour thins until it will hold something else.

An esbat is the witches’ rite of that light.

It is kept on the night the moon stands full, and a night either side is allowed as well.

The circle is cast. The moon is greeted. Then the working of the month begins.

An esbat is smaller than a sabbat and far more frequent. It belongs to the moon rather than the sun.

Twelve or thirteen of them fall in a single year, each a night of practice, each one a door that opens once and closes again behind the tide.

What an Esbat Is

The word names a meeting rather than a festival.

A sabbat marks a turning of the solar year. An esbat marks a turning of the moon.

It is a working night, and the work smells of wax and cold air.

Spells are cast, tools are charged, and those present speak with the Goddess.

Solitary witches keep esbats as well, and they keep them simply.

Nothing in the rite requires a group, a temple or an altar dressed in silver. A candle, a window and a full moon will do.

Esbat and Sabbat: What Separates Them

The difference between the two is easy to hold in the hand.

A sabbat celebrates the turning of the season. An esbat does the work of the month.

Sabbats follow the sun through eight fixed points of the year, driven into the calendar like pegs. For many, the round begins with Samhain.

Esbats follow the moon instead, and the moon does not wait for anyone’s calendar.

A sabbat may be loud and seasonal, crowded with food and heat and voices.

An esbat is quieter. The light in the room is usually silver, and the loudest sound is your own breathing.

Why the Full Moon

The full moon is the height of the lunar tide. Everything begun at the dark of the moon has climbed to its visible peak and stands there, brimming.

Older practice treats the waxing half of the cycle as a time for drawing toward you.

The waning half is kept for letting go. The full moon sits at the hinge between them.

Both directions stand open on that one night, and the hinge holds steady only while the light is whole.

The phases of the moon set the shape of every lunar working.

Twelve or thirteen full moons rise between one winter and the next. Many traditions give each one a name taken from the season around it.

Those names differ from region to region and from book to book.

A name is a memory aid rather than a rule. What matters is that the night is noticed and kept.

When and Where to Hold the Rite

The moon is full at an exact moment, not for a whole night. She brims, and then she begins to fall away.

Practice differs on how closely that moment has to be met.

Many keep the rite on the evening nearest the exact full, once the dark has settled over the roofs.

Others allow the night before and the night after, which gives three usable evenings.

If the hour is impossible, keep the rite whenever it can honestly be kept.

A rite performed with attention is worth more than a perfect hour missed.

Outdoors, where the moon can actually be seen, is the older preference. A garden, a balcony, a field with the grass gone grey, a stretch of shoreline where the water throws the light back again — each of them will serve.

Indoors serves as well. Set the altar near a window that faces the light, and let the cold pane do the rest.

Cloud does not cancel an esbat. The moon is full behind the cloud, and the whole sky glows dully with her whether or not she shows her face.

What to Gather

Little is needed, and less than that will do.

  • A white or silver candle for the moon
  • A bowl of clean water, wide enough to hold a reflection
  • Salt, or a little earth carried home from a place you know
  • Incense, or a dish of dried herbs
  • An athame or wand, if one is kept
  • A cup of wine, juice or plain water
  • Bread, cakes or fruit
  • A book of shadows and something to write with

Anything missing may be replaced by something honest and near at hand. A single candle and a pair of open hands are enough for a first esbat.

Tools help the mind to settle. The wax, the water, the cold weight of the blade gather your attention and hold it still. They do not do the work themselves.

Preparing Yourself

Bathe, or at least wash the hands and face, and let the water take the day off your skin. Wear something kept for ritual, or wear nothing formal at all.

Sit awhile, and let the hours behind you settle like silt.

A short grounding meditation settles the attention before any circle is cast.

Breathe slowly until the noise of the day has thinned to nothing. Then stand, and begin.

Casting the Circle

The circle is the working space of the rite, and it is drawn on air.

It is walked sunwise, beginning in the east or the north according to tradition. Trace the boundary with the blade, the wand or the open hand, and let the line close behind your fingers.

The full method belongs to the magic circle itself, and it is worth learning properly before an esbat is attempted.

As the line is drawn, words such as these may be spoken:

I cast this circle between the worlds, a place that is not a place, in an hour that is not an hour.

Walk the round three times where three rounds are the custom.

Once the boundary is closed, the ordinary room is no longer the room you stand in. The walls remain where they were. Something else has come to stand inside them.

Calling the Quarters

The four quarters are greeted in turn, one at each side of the circle.

Each of them carries one of the four elements and one direction of the world.

Face the quarter. Raise the hand. Speak plainly into the dark.

Guardians of the East, powers of Air, be present at this rite and witness what is done here.

Repeat toward the south and fire, the west and water, the north and earth.

Light a candle at each quarter if quarter candles are kept, and let four small flames lean at the edges of the round. The circle is built. The rite may begin.

Greeting the Moon and Drawing Her Down

Turn toward the moon, or toward the altar candle that stands for her. Raise both arms and look up into the light.

This is the heart of the esbat, and it needs no elaborate wording.

Lady of the full moon, silver in the dark, you are welcome here. Look upon this circle, and upon the one who stands within it.

Stand still afterward. Let the silence do the answering.

Some traditions add a further rite called drawing down the moon.

In a coven, the priestess stands as the vessel and the moon is invited into her. What she speaks afterward is received as the words of the Goddess.

Kept alone, the same rite turns inward and needs no witness.

Stand beneath the light, breathe it in, and let it fill the body from the crown downward, cold and slow, the way water fills a glass.

Come into me, light of the moon, and let what is spoken here be true.

This part of the esbat is not required, and many keep the rite without it.

The Work of the Night

The esbat is where the magic of the month is actually done, and the full light stands open like a wide door.

The full moon suits a broad range of workings:

  • Charging tools, stones, jewelry and water in the moonlight
  • Divination by tarot, runes or scrying
  • Healing work for those who have asked for it
  • Blessing a new book, a new tool or a new altar
  • Setting an intention for the cycle ahead
  • Releasing what has grown heavy

Choose one working rather than six. A single act done fully carries further than a crowded list.

Write the aim down in one line before you begin. Vague wishes tend to produce vague nights.

Moon Water

A bowl of clean water is set where the moonlight can reach it — a sill, a step, a flat stone lying in the grass.

It is left there through the night with the pale light resting on its surface, and lifted again before the sun rises.

The water is then kept for cleansing tools, marking the brow or dressing candles.

This practice is used when you wish to carry something of the night into ordinary days.

Store it in a dark bottle, out of the sun. Do not drink it unless the water and the vessel are clean enough to trust.

Cakes and Ale

Every esbat ends with food and drink taken inside the circle. The cup is lifted first, and then the plate.

May you never hunger. May you never thirst.

Eat a little and drink a little, standing or seated as you prefer. The taste of bread returns you to your own weight.

Set a portion aside for the earth, and give it back outside once the circle is down. The sharing brings the body down gently from the high point of the rite.

Closing the Circle

Thank the quarters in reverse order to the calling, and thank the moon last of all.

Go if you must, stay if you will, and hail and farewell.

Then walk widdershins and take the boundary up behind you, gathering the line like thread onto a spool.

Snuff the candles rather than blowing them out, where that custom is kept, and let the smoke go up grey and straight.

The room becomes an ordinary room again — chair, floor, cooling cup. A circle left open leaves the mind open with it.

Esbats of the Dark Moon

Not every esbat falls at the full. Some traditions keep a dark moon esbat as well, held at the new moon, when the sky keeps back everything but stars.

That night suits banishing, deep divination and the quiet ending of things.

The structure is the same. The mood turns inward, the candles are fewer, and the shadows stand closer to the altar.

Where only one esbat a month is kept, it is almost always the full.

A year of esbats is twelve or thirteen nights long.

Keeping an Esbat Alone

Most esbats are kept by one person rather than by a coven. One candle, one window, one voice in a dark room.

Nothing in the rite depends on numbers. The solitary form is often stronger for being shorter.

Stripped to the bone, a complete esbat holds five movements:

  1. Cast the circle
  2. Greet the moon
  3. Do one working
  4. Eat and drink
  5. Close the circle

A brief rite kept with your whole attention is enough when the evening allows no more.

Length has never been the measure of a rite.

After the Rite

Eat something ordinary and drink a glass of water. Put the tools away rather than leaving them out on the altar to gather the cold.

Record the night before sleep, while the details are still warm.

Note the date, the working, the words used, and anything that arrived unasked.

Over a year the entries begin to show a pattern. Certain moons read heavier than others, and the reasons surface slowly, the way stones rise through a field.

That record is what turns a run of scattered nights into a practice.

Sleep with the curtain open if the moon can reach the bed.

Common Mistakes

A few troubles repeat across almost every beginner’s first year.

  • Waiting for perfect weather, perfect tools or a perfect hour
  • Cramming six workings into one night
  • Reading long passages aloud instead of speaking plainly
  • Forgetting to close the circle properly
  • Keeping no record at all

None of these ruin a rite, but all of them thin it, the way water thins wine.

The remedy in every case is the same. Do less, and mean what is done.

The Simplest Esbat

Take away the salt, the smoke, the blade and the book, and this much remains.

Go outside on the night of the full moon and look up. Let the cold find your face.

Full moon, I see you, and I keep this night with you.

Stand there until the standing feels finished, then go back inside. That is an esbat, and it counts as one.