Swearing Oaths: A Message from the Edda
As I explain in the opening of "Swearing Oaths," the text for this article formed in its entirety during my dreams on 6 May 2018 and were recorded upon waking. Recalling what seems a rather odd phenomenon, I realize that I have had articles, songs, speeches and even solutions to complex problems at work form in my dreams. Upon its completion, I became more certain than ever that Snorri was purposefully deceptive when composing his Edda.
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While I often have vivid dreams, they are rarely useful or revealing especially with regard to my spiritual faith, Ásatrú. It was therefore strange and exciting when I awoke one morning with a clear and practical explanation of a key story from our lore.
I have long believed that the authors of the Eddas obscured important messages through their use of poetic form.[1] The mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of the texts are however difficult to discern. Authors who recommend that we not only read the lore, but familiarize ourselves with it to such a degree that it becomes internalized, recognize that only then will we begin to rightfully comprehend the depths and richness of our pre-Christian spirituality.
The well-known episode that was made clear in my dream is recounted in Snorri’s Gylfaginning when Gangleri inquires as to the origin of Odin’s wondrous horse Sleipnir. The Aesir had just built Valhalla when “a certain builder” arrived offering to craft a great wall around Odin's hall in order to secure the gods from assaults from both mountain-giants and frost-giants. In return for building such a fortification the builder demanded to take Freya as his wife.
As the story goes, the Aesir agreed to the offer but only after making the terms more difficult by shortening the timeframe to complete the building from three seasons to one. They also stipulated “he was to receive from no man help with the work.” To the gods chagrin the builder and his stallion Svadilfaeri made tremendous progress in their work. With three days remaining to complete the task, only the entrance to the fortification remained unfinished. The gods, now fretting over the payment of Freya, threatened Loki with an “evil death” if he could not somehow cause the deal to be forfeited. The shape-shifting Loki transformed himself into a mare and lured the stallion away from his work. Ultimately the job was left incomplete in the allotted timeframe. The builder revealed himself to be a mountain-giant who was promptly slain by Thor and Loki would, some months later, give birth to an eight-legged foal, Sleipnir.
This fantastic tale is, beneath its surface, an explanation and a warning to believers about the importance of oaths and the dangers of leaving them unfulfilled. I had often wondered why the gods agreed to the offer to have a wall built only to become concerned when it neared completion. The offer however did not originate in Asgard but rather with the builder who offered to perform the work. This builder not only made an oath to build the fortification but also asked the gods for something in return. Heathens and Christians alike have been known to make oaths or promises to the gods in the form of “I will do x for the god(s)” and in return the “god(s) will do y for me.” Following this formula, Martin Luther, hero of the Reformation is reported to have called upon a Christian saint (oftentimes a stand-in or replacement for a god or goddess of pre-Christianized Europe) during a tremendous lightning storm, “Save me Saint Anne, and I shall become a monk.” The storm dissipated and Luther promptly made his way to the monastery. The formula is a simple albeit dangerous one.
The tale of the builder and his horse is surely a sharp warning not to make oaths of this kind. The builder set a high price for completing the work of his oath – the goddess Freya herself. The episode reveals that the gods may not “play fairly” in such circumstances and in fact may prevent someone from fulfilling an oath that should never have been made. The failure of not delivering on this oath was death through a hammer blow from Thor himself:
“Then [Thor] paid the builder’s wages and it wasn’t the sun and moon, instead he stopped him from living in Giantland and struck the first blow so that his skull was shattered into fragments and sent him down beneath Niflhel.”[2]
When I awoke from my dream, I reached for my copy of the Prose Edda that I keep on my nightstand. In the two pages that it takes Snorri to tell this tale, I was astonished to see the number of references to oaths:
“But at their agreement there had been mighty witnesses invoked and many oaths, for the giants did not think it safe to be among the Aesir without a guarantee of safety…”[3]
“And [Loki], being afraid, swore oaths that he would manage things so the builder would forfeit has payment…”[4]
“But when the Aesir saw for certain that it was a mountain-giant that they had there, then the oaths were disregarded and they called upon Thor and he came in a trice and the next thing was that Miollnir was raised aloft.”[5]
And finally Snorri quotes from Völuspá:
“Oaths were gone back on, pledged words and promises, all the solemn vows that passed between them.”[6]
As Ásatrúar we take our oaths very seriously. Many kindreds and tribes have special procedures for those who choose to make an oath during sumbel so that failure to complete what was promised does not impact the hamingja (luck) of the group. Let Snorri’s tale of oath-making and oath-breaking remind all of the consequences of inappropriate oaths and the punishment for leaving, even appropriate, oaths unfulfilled. Let it also serve as an example of a mythological tale that contains a secret meaning to those initated in the old ways.
Notes
1. See my article, “Gylfaginning: Sealed in Secret Language. https://talesfromtheironwood.blogspot.com/2019/12/gylfaginning-sealed-in-secret-language.html
Copyright © 2019 by Donald van den Andel
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