Sankt hans tale i Den Danske Kirke, 28. juni 2025 ved Iben la Cour. (Go to end for English version)

Da vores båltaler desværre ikke kunne alligevel spurgte Karsten om jeg måske ville holde talen i år, da han jo havde gjort det sidste år. 

 Og Jov den chance ville jeg enormt gerne have: for det er vist ikke nogen hemmelighed at jeg de sidste 2-3 år har haft en mission, nemlig at få afskaffet heksen fra bålet i Den Danske Kirke. Men traditioner i Den Danske Kirke er som kirkebygningers skib, stor og fast, det tager tid at dreje kurs. Det er svært at ændre traditioner. 

Hej Jeg hedder Iben, og I har fået noget så kedeligt som kirkens administrative medarbejder som jeres bål taler, en ud af 4 fast ansatte under en hær af frivillige ildsjæle. 

I følge forsideartiklen om Sankt Hans fra Kristeligt Dagblad i søndags længdes vi efter traditioner og ritualer, Sankt Hans er stadig populært og lysten til at fejre den stor. 

I artiklen forklarer sociolog Eva Steensig at grunden er, at man I gamle dage havde mere struktur i hverdagen, blandt andet med flow tv- man lavede for eksempel mad mens der var børnefjernsyn, vi har ikke længere særligt meget af den slags flow til at strukturere vores hverdag.  

Vi har travlt, især her i London har vi travlt, der er meget at gøre og meget at vælge i mellem. 

Og netop derfor er det rart med ritualer, Her får vi, siger Eva, et holdepunkt hvor man kender formen. Man behøver ikke finde på. 

 Og netop i Den Danske Kirke, er vi et holdepunkt for danske traditioner. Og det skal vi da også fortsat være. Men jeg mener dog stadig at vi altid skal huske at kigge på dem, såvel som tweak´e hvordan de traditioner ser ud.

Og der vel ikke noget bedre sted at argumentere for den sag end foran deltagerne som er traditionens virkelige holdepunkt. 

Jer glade mennesker der samles her i dag. 

Velkommen, tak fordi er kommet så vi fortsat kan være en kirke og fejre sammen, og holde traditionerne i live. 

Hvad er mit problem med heksen så? Jov - det er vel simpelt, jeg har svært ved, ligegyldigt hvor kreativt og sjov den er, at heksen jo symbolisere kvinder, især den slags kvinder vi er lidt bange for fordi de er stærke og kloge. 

Jeg har i det hele taget meget svært ved at vi bare gør ting fordi det plejer vi at gøre, uden at sætte spørgsmålstegn ved dem. 

I Danmark er man mange steder holdt op med at have en heks.  

Når man undersøger heksens rolle på bålet til sankthans, er det en overraskende kort tradition. I det hele taget er Sankt Hans et underligt rod af ting (og her kommer lige en lille disclaimer – for information på internettet omkring Sankthans traditioner er lige så rodet som Sankt hans er og jeg er ikke professor i folketraditioner) 

Der er ikke et direkte link mellem heksebrændinger som foregik i 15-1600-tallet til Sankt Hans. 

Den sidste heks der blev brændt i Danmark, var i 1693. Det var Anne Palles fra Falster. Anne var dømt i en snørklet sag af rygter, jalousi og misundelse. 

Anne blev fængslet i 1692 og erkendte sig selv skyldig efter totur og trusler fra de præster der forhørte hende. Sagen blev imidlertid anket til landstinget og højesteret. I de 7 måneders tid retten tog, var der faktisk tvivl om Annas skyld, men hun blev dog stadig dømt til halshugning og brænding.

Det skal hertil siges Anne var 74 år gammel – Jeg vil nu nok mene om en kvinde på 74 år der stadig kan skabe rygter, jalousi og misundelse, enten er der nogle der har båret nag meget længe. Ellers er det en bedrift der burde hyldes mere end straffes. 

Der er mange af den slags kvinder her i kirken, hvor heldige er vi. 

Faktisk ligger de overtroiske kræfter omkring Sankt Hans et andet sted. 

Det var, og er måske stadig, almindelig forståelse af naturen, at ved årstidernes skift er kræfterne stærke, både de gode og de dårlige. 

Helt op i 1800-tallet mente man lægeurter samlet denne nat var mere kraftfulde. Helligkilderne mere healende.  

Men ting kunne også gå galt, onde kræfter var på færde, så man tændte ofte bål, gerne på høje steder og ved kyster så man kunne lyse op, vise vej, sende det farlige videre. Holde det af veje. Holde øje.

Der opstod såkaldte kildemarkeder, ved de hellige kilder, med telter boder og gøgl. Når nu man alligevel skulle være vågen, samle urter og holde øje kunne man jo lige så godt fejre det. 

 Midsommer er en tradition der har været fejret i norden gennem mange århundreder – det blev beskrev af Olaus Mangusn´s Nordiske folke historie i 1555 hvordan alle "uden skelen til køn eller alder" samles på torve eller marker for at brænde bål, danse og synge skæmteviser.

Som vi også gør her sammen i dag. 

Selv om kirken var kritisk overfor denne form for fest: Karsten har ikke været til en før sidste år. Præsten Niels Hemmingsen som levede i 1500-tallet, skrev imod hvordan aftenen blev fejret med "dans og nattedrik, gadelams krans, ild at optænde at huje, skrige og drikke den hele nat over”

Var det for sent, for allerede endnu længere tilbage, i 400-tallet fastlagde kirken festen for Johannes Døberen som ud fra Lukasevangaliet fandt sted et halvt år før Jesu fødsel til den 24. juni. De kaldte det Sankthans, som regnes som en af de ældste kirkefester. 

Lyset fra bålet blev tolket som et symbol på Johannes, som udpegede Kristus i en verden af mørke. De hedenske bål var nu velsignet af kirken til ære for Døberen. 

Johannes går i mørket mød lyset, og når det er mørkest, kommer lyset og går i mørket med os - tilbage hen imod lyset. Gangen, livet og årets. 

Sankt hans og bålet holder øje med de stærke kræfter der er at virke når vi er i grænselandet mellem 2 punkter.  Når det er lysest og mørkest. 

Jeg skrev denne her tale på selve Sankt Hans morgen kl. 4. 

Lyset var begyndt.

Jeg var i Danmark, i Svanninge bakker. 

Solen skinnede månen op stærkt. 

Der var stærke kræfter i duggen og fuglenes kvidderen var høj. 

Foran mig lå årets længste dag og jeg havde tid og muligheder. 

Vores planner for dagen var aflyst da det blæste for meget til hav kajak. Vi skulle afsted til Egeskov slot og fejre Sankt Hans i stedet.

Det er godt når der en ekstra time. Det er godt når traditionerne ikke ligger så fast så vi får lov til at gøre nogle andet hvis det nu passer bedrer. 

Nye ting kan være enormt spændende og dejlige. 

For der er nemlig også sådan at når jeg er i Danmark, har jeg kun et job. Når jeg er i London, har jeg 3. Jeg har også mine voksne børn jeg skal passe eller passes af. Jeg har planlagt hvad jeg skal de fleste timer i døgnet. Det er for mig, og jeg tænker for mange, at når der travlt og meget man skal nå, holder man meget fast i rutiner for at tingene skal hænge sammen. 

Skikken med at placere en dukke på bålet kom givetvis til Danmark fra Tyskland, hvor der i flere århundreder har været tradition at sætte ild til stråmænd. Ankom først hertil omkring 1900-tallet.

Interessant var det samtidig med kvinders rettigheder skred frem.

Herhjemme fandt de første dokumenterede afbrændinger af stråmænd på Sankthansbålet sted i 1920 i Kalundborg.

Det var også 1920 at kvinder fik ret til børnene ved skilsmisse, offentlige stillinger og egen økonomi. 

Dukkerne blev ifølge nogle kilder først kønnet som hekse i 1960erne – og det er jo virkeligt tankevækkende. 

Når nogle har forsøgt at undersøge hvorfor, er svaret ofte bare at det var jo meget sjovt. 

For sådan er det jo ofte med kampe, som kinetisk energi, når man skubber til noget, bliver der overført noget energi, an på modstanden man er oppe i mod, bliver noget af den energi skubbet tilbage. 

Mit problem er nok i virkeligheden ikke så meget heksen, at man lidt bange for stærke kloge kvinder det forstår jeg godt, det er jeg da også selv. De tåler nok at blive brændt.

Men mit problem er at jeg føler vi som danskere ofte vælger den ironiske vej, den hårde vej, at vi nogle gange skubber lidt hårdt igen.  Behøver vi egentlig det?

Jeg husker en Sankt Hans jeg holdt med mine skandinaviske venner, Vi havde lige haft vores Degree show på Goldsmiths Art College. Vores familier var med os, Solen skinnede og vi var samlet på en tagterrasse i East End. Vi følte os på toppen af verden. Vi var glade, stolte og livet var stort foran os.

Toves mors frikadeller smagte fantastisk, selv om de var svenske, det var de blødeste frikadeller jeg nogen sinde havde smag. Det var ligegyldigt om vi spiste silden på rugbrød eller med kartofler, for kartoflerne var nye og smagte også helt vildt godt. 

Tove og Camilla, svenskerne, havde taget blomster med så vi og børnene kunne lave blomsterkranse.

Vi skulle lægge armene over kors og kysse hver gang vi drak, kærligheden og beruselsen skulle passeres videre. 

Johanne og jeg, nok mest mig, havde taget pap dukker med billeder af os alle med, vi skulle brændes på bålet, som var en lille fjolle ild jeg lavede i en gammel BBQ.

Jeg kunne godt se det var helt forkert, men vedholdt, for sådan er jeg vokset op, med lidt vrede og lidt skub tilbage. 

Nu er jeg blevet noget ældre og jeg er parat til at kigge lidt på de skub og den vrede, jeg havde en midsommer for 20 år siden. 

Jeg tænker at vi alle godt kan, når vi kigger på bålet og heksen i aften tænke os om. Tænke over om vi holder vogte, om vi sender noget afsted, sætter noget fri, løsner os.  Eller er det noget vi selv holder fast i? 

Måske unødvendigt. 

Fri os fra det onde, er det et ønske, en bøn eller en afbrænding?

Heksen har ikke været her så længe at vi ikke kan give slip på hende, bålet er her stadig, vi er her stadig, sammen med alle de andre der bor her i London. 

Heksen er ikke farlig, men hvis vi holder for meget fast i hende, bliver vi måske brændt af med hende. 

Tusind tak for at lytte – lad os tænde bålet sammen. 

Sankt Hans Speech at the Danish Church in London by Iben la Cour. 28^th of June 2025.

Since our bonfire speaker unfortunately had to cancel, Karsten asked if I might give the speech this year, as he had done it last year. 

And yes, I would very much like to have that chance: because it is no secret that for the last 2-3 years I have had a mission, namely, to abolish the witch from the bonfire here in the Danish Church. But traditions in the Church of Denmark are like “the ship” of church buildings, large and firm, it takes time to turn course. It is difficult to change traditions. 

Hi, My name is Iben, and you have got something as boring as the church's administration employee as your bonfire speaker, one of 4 permanent employees under an army of passionate volunteers. 

According to the front-page article about Sankt Hans from Kristeligt Dagblad on Sunday, we are longing for traditions and rituals, Sankt Hans is still popular and the desire to celebrate it is great. 

In the article, sociologist Eva Steensig explains that the reason is that in the old days, people had more structure in everyday life, including flow TV - for example, you cooked while there was children's TV, we no longer have very much of that kind of flow to structure our everyday life.  

We are busy, especially here in London we are busy, there is a lot to do and a lot to choose from. 

And that is precisely why it is nice to have rituals. Here, says Eva, we get a point of reference where you know the form. You don't have to make it up. 

And in the Danish Church in particular, we are a holding point for Danish traditions. And we must continue to be so. But I still think that we should always remember to look at them, as well as tweak how those traditions look.

And there is probably no better place to argue for that cause than in front of the participants, who are the real focus of the tradition. 

You - happy people who gather here today. 

Welcome, thank you for coming so that we can continue to be a church and celebrate together, and keep the traditions alive. 

What is my problem with the witch then? Oh - I guess it's simple, I have a hard time with, no matter how creative and funny it is, that the witch symbolises women, especially the kind of women we are a little afraid of because they are strong and smart. 

I find it very difficult that we just do things because we usually do that, without questioning them. In Denmark, in many places, they have stopped having a witch. 

When examining the role of the witch at the bonfire for Midsummer, it is a surprisingly short tradition. Overall, Sankt Hans is a weird mess of things (and here's a little disclaimer – because information on the internet about Sankt Hans traditions is just as messy as Sankt Hans is and I'm not a professor of folk traditions) 

There is no direct link between witch burnings that took place in the 15-1600s to Sankt Hans. 

The last witch to be burned in Denmark was in 1693. It was Anne Palles from Falster. Anne was convicted in a tortuous case of rumours, jealousy and envy. Anne was imprisoned in 1692 and pleaded guilty after torture and threats from the priests who interrogated her. However, the case was appealed to the county council and the Supreme Court. During the 7 months the court took, there were doubts about Anna's guilt, but she was still sentenced to beheading and burning.

Anne was 74 years old – I would probably think of a 74-year-old woman who can still create rumours, jealousy and envy, either there are some who have held grudges for a very long time. Otherwise, it is an achievement that should be celebrated more than punished. 

There are many of these kinds of women here in the church, how lucky are we. 

In fact, the superstitious forces around Sankt Hans lie elsewhere. 

It was, and perhaps still is, a common understanding of nature that at the change of the seasons, forces are strong, both the good and the bad. 

Up until the 1800s, medicinal herbs gathered on this night were believed to be more powerful. The holy springs are more healing.  

But things could also go wrong, evil forces were at work. So fires were often lit, preferably in high places and on coasts so that you could light up, show the way, pass on the dangerous. Keep it out of the way. Keeping watch.

So-called spring markets arose, at the holy springs, with tents, stalls and entertainment. When you had to be awake, collect herbs and keep an eye on it, you might as well celebrate. 

Midsummer is a tradition that has been celebrated in the Nordic countries for many centuries – it was described by Olaus Mangusn's Nordic Folk History in 1555 how everyone "without distinction of gender or age" gathers in squares or fields to light bonfires, dance and sing jollies. 

As we are also doing here together today. 

Although the church was critical of this kind of party: Karsten has not been to one until last year. The priest Niels Hemmingsen, who lived in the 1500s, wrote against how the evening was celebrated with "dancing and night drinking, a wreath of street ligths, fire to light, to cheer, scream and drink it all night over" Was it too late, because even further back, in the 400s, the church established the feast of John the Baptist, which from the Gospel of Luke took place six months before the birth of Jesus on June 24. They called it Sankt Hans (in Danish), and is considered one of the oldest church festivals. 

The light from the fire was interpreted as a symbol of John, who pointed out Christ in a world of darkness. The pagan bonfires were now blessed by the church in honour of the Baptist. 

John walks in the darkness to meet the light, and when it is darkest, the light comes and walks in the darkness with us - back towards the light. The walk, life and the year. 

Sankt Hans and the bonfire keep an eye on the strong forces that are at work when we are in the borderland between 2 points.  When it is brightest and darkest. 

I wrote this speech on the morning of St. Hans at 4 o'clock. 

The light had begun.

I was in Denmark, in the Svanninge hills. 

The sun shone brightly on the moon. 

There were strong forces in the dew and the chirping of the birds was loud. 

Ahead of me was the longest day of the year and I had time and opportunities. 

Our plan for the day was cancelled as it was too windy for sea kayaking. We were going to Egeskov Castle and celebrate Sankt Hans instead.

It's good when there is an extra hour. It's good when the traditions are not so fixed, so we are allowed to do something else if it suits better. 

New things can be hugely exciting and delightful. 

Because it is also the case that when I am in Denmark, I only have one job. 

When I'm in London, I have 3. I also have my adult children I have to take care of or be taken care by. 

I have planned what I am going to do most hours of the day. For me, and I think for many, it is that when there is a lot to be done and a lot to do, you stick to routines in order for things to add up.  

The custom of placing a doll on the fire probably came to Denmark from Germany, where there has been a tradition for several centuries to set fire to straw men. It arrived here around the 1900s. 

Interestingly, this was at the same time as women's rights were advancing.

In Denmark, the first documented burning of straw men on the Sankt Hans bonfire took place in 1920 in Kalundborg.

It was also in 1920 that women were given the right to have children through divorce, public positions and their own finances. 

According to some sources, the dolls were not gendered as witches until the 1960s – and that is really thought-provoking. 

When someone has tried to investigate why, the answer is often just that it was just for fun. 

Because that's often how it is with fights, as kinetic energy, when you push something, some energy is transferred, depending on the resistance you are up against, some of that energy is pushed back. 

My problem is probably not so much the witch that you are a little afraid of strong, smart women, I understand, I am too. They can probably withstand being burned.

But my problem is that I feel that we as Danes often choose the ironic path, the hard way, that we sometimes push a little hard back.  Do we really need it?

I remember a Midsummer I held with my Scandinavian friends, we had just had our Degree show at Goldsmiths Art college. Our families were with us, the sun was shining, and we were gathered on a rooftop terrace in the East End. We felt on top of the world. We were happy, proud and life was big ahead of us.

Tove's mother's meatballs tasted amazing, even though they were Swedish, they were the softest meatballs I ever tasted. It didn't matter if we ate the herring on rye bread or with potatoes, because the potatoes were new and also tasted really good. 

Tove and Camilla, the Swedes, had brought flowers so that we and the children could make flower wreaths.

We had to cross our arms and kiss every time we drank, the love and intoxication had to be passed on. 

Johanne and I, probably mostly me, had brought cardboard dolls with pictures of all of us, we were going to be burned on the fire, which was a little silly fire I made in an old BBQ. 

I could see it was completely wrong, but persisted, because that's how I grew up, with a little anger and a little push back. 

Now I'm a bit older and I'm ready to look at the pushes and anger I had one midsummer 20 years ago. 

I think that when we look at the bonfire and the witch tonight, we can all think about it. Think about whether we are keeping watch, whether we are sending something away, setting something free, loosening ourselves.  Or is it something we hold on to ourselves? 

Perhaps unnecessary. 

Deliver us from evil, is it a wish, a prayer or a burning?

The witch hasn't been here long enough that we can't let go of her, the fire is still here, we're still here, along with all the others who live here in London. 

The witch is not dangerous, but if we hold on to her too much, we might get burned off with her. 

Thank you so much for listening – let's light the fire together.