What is a Blót?: History, Rituals, and Modern Revival of Sacred Sacrifice
For the Norse and wider Germanic peoples, religion was not a matter of abstract belief or weekly attendance at temples. It was deeply woven into daily survival, community ties, and the cycles of nature. At the very heart of this lived spirituality was the blót (Old Norse blóta), a word that literally means “to worship, sacrifice, or honour with offerings.”
The blót was not just an act of giving - it was the central ritual of Norse paganism, an exchange between humans and the divine powers. Through it, people honoured gods, land-spirits, and ancestors, seeking blessings in return: fertility, health, victory, and prosperity.
In this exploration, we will delve into what a blót was, how it was carried out, its history in both written and archaeological sources, and how modern Heathens revive the practice today.
The Meaning of “Blót”
The Old Norse verb blóta is far richer than the English words “worship” or “pray.” Its roots lie in the Proto-Germanic blōtaną, meaning “to sacrifice, to strengthen, to consecrate.” Linguistically and culturally, it conveys the idea of empowerment - of giving strength to the gods, spirits, and ancestors, and in return receiving their strength. Unlike the later Christian concept of worship as submission or adoration, blóta was transactional, reciprocal, and communal. It was not about humbling oneself before the divine, but about maintaining balance and honour within a sacred web of relationships.
To “blót” meant more than speaking words of praise; it required giving something of tangible value - whether the blood of an animal, the best cuts of meat, crafted goods, or a libation of mead poured onto the earth. This act was not seen as charity, nor was it a bribe. Instead, it was understood as a sacred contract, a living covenant between humans and the unseen powers. The guiding principle was simple: we give, so that you may give in return. By feeding the gods, the land-spirits, and the ancestors, one ensured the ongoing cycle of fertility, luck, and protection that sustained both the individual and the community.
The Noun Blót
From this understanding, the noun blót came to describe the rituals themselves.. the sacred occasions where offerings and sacrifices were made. These gatherings were not occasions of mourning but festive and life-affirming, blending religion with communal celebration. Meat roasted, horns of ale and mead were raised, and oaths were sworn. The divine and the mortal shared in the same meal, symbolising that all were part of the same cosmic family.
Blóts could be directed towards different recipients depending on the needs of the season, the family, or the wider community:
Gods and Goddesses (Æsir and Vanir): Odin for wisdom and victory, Thor for protection and strength, Freyr for fertility and harvest, Freyja for love and seiðr, Njörðr for seafaring luck, and many more. Local deities unique to regions or landscapes were also honoured.
Ancestors (the Disir): The spirits of the family line and the mighty women of the past were revered, asked for guidance, protection, and blessings upon the household.
Land-spirits (Landvættir, Alfar, and local powers): The unseen beings that dwelt in the earth, rivers, forests, and burial mounds. Appeasing them was vital for ensuring fertility of crops, safety of livestock, and harmony with the land itself.
A Sacred Web of Exchange
At the heart of the blót lies one of the most important truths of the Norse worldview: no one (neither human nor god) existed in isolation. Life was understood as a constant cycle of giving and receiving, a sacred exchange that bound all beings together. The gods depended upon human offerings for strength and honour, just as humans relied upon the blessings of the gods, the wisdom of their ancestors, and the fertility of the land.
This threefold focus (gods, ancestors, and land-spirits) formed a spiritual triangle of obligations. Each blót acknowledged and reinforced this triangle:
The gods ensured fertility, protection, wisdom, and victory. They embodied the higher forces of creation and destruction, and offerings reminded them of the bonds of kinship and loyalty between divine and mortal.
The ancestors were honoured as ever-present members of the community. To forget them was to weaken one’s own luck (hamingja), while to honour them was to ensure their continued protection and guidance. Offerings made at burial mounds or hearths bound the living to the dead in an unbroken chain.
The land-spirits (landvættir and álfar) represented the living presence of the natural world. Without their favour, crops would wither, livestock would sicken, and journeys could end in disaster. A libation of ale or a portion of food offered to the earth or mound ensured harmony with the spirits of place.
By weaving these relationships together, the blót created a sacred web of exchange that encompassed every layer of existence. It was not only about seeking immediate blessings (good harvests, safe voyages, victory in battle) but also about reinforcing the larger structure of cosmic order (innangardr, the ordered world, against utangardr, the chaotic beyond).
In this way, each act of giving was more than symbolic.. it was performative and binding. When the blood of a sacrifice was sprinkled upon altars, statues, and even the gathered folk, it consecrated not only the ritual space but also reaffirmed the participants’ place in the cosmic cycle. The Norse believed that every gift carried weight, and that failing to uphold these reciprocal duties risked losing favour with the gods, the ancestors, and the land itself.
The blót, therefore, was not an isolated religious act. It was the heartbeat of community and survival, an embodied recognition that humans were part of a greater living fabric. Each offering was a strand in that web, tying kin to kin, humans to gods, and mortals to the mysteries of earth and spirit. In giving, they renewed not only their luck and fertility but also their identity as a people bound to both past and future generations.
Historical Sources on Blót’s
Our understanding of the blót comes from a mixture of archaeology, poetry, sagas, and the often-problematic accounts of Christian chroniclers. While no single source paints a complete picture, together they reveal the centrality of the blót to Norse religious life and how it was perceived both within and outside the pagan world.
Snorri Sturluson and Heimskringla -
The 13th-century Icelandic historian and poet Snorri Sturluson provides some of the most detailed written accounts of blóts in his Heimskringla. Writing two centuries after Iceland’s official conversion to Christianity, Snorri was both preserving and reshaping earlier traditions. He describes how kings such as Hákon the Good and others struggled with the tension between Christianity and the expectation to lead public sacrifices. His narratives show that the blót was not merely religious but also political and social, binding rulers to their people through ritual leadership.
Snorri also emphasises the great public blóts at central cultic sites like Lade in Norway and Uppsala in Sweden, where entire communities gathered. While he often frames these practices with Christian moral judgement, his work remains a crucial witness to the importance of sacrifice in legitimising kingship and ensuring prosperity.
Adam of Bremen and the Temple at Uppsala -
Another key source is Adam of Bremen, a German chronicler writing in the 1070s. In his Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum, Adam describes the great temple at Uppsala in Sweden, where every nine years a massive blót was held. According to him, this involved the sacrifice of nine of every living creature, including most controversially - humans. Their bodies were said to be hung in the sacred grove beside the temple.
While scholars debate whether Adam’s account reflects reality or Christian exaggeration designed to scandalise pagan practice, archaeological evidence of ritual deposits, animal remains, and cultic sites in Sweden suggests at least some truth. His description underscores how awe-inspiring and feared the Norse sacrificial system was to outside observers.
Sagas and Eddas -
The sagas and Eddic poems, though recorded later in Christianised Iceland, preserve vital glimpses of blót traditions.
For example:
The Hávamál (“Sayings of the High One”) contains wisdom verses attributed to Odin, several of which reference sacrifice and reciprocal gifting as the foundation of divine-human relations.
The Hervarar saga and Vatnsdæla saga describe household blóts, where family heads presided over sacrifices to ensure prosperity, linking ritual to daily survival.
Víga-Glúms saga and Eyrbyggja saga both mention cultic feasts and sacrifices, showing how they were woven into local community life.
These sagas confirm that blóts were not limited to grand temples but were practised in homes, farms, and local gatherings—demonstrating the flexibility and ubiquity of sacrifice in Norse culture.
Beyond the written word, archaeology provides material traces of blót. Animal bones found in wells, bogs, and temple sites suggest ritual slaughter, while ceremonial vessels, altars, and figurines indicate spaces of cultic activity. The famous bog bodies of Northern Europe, some dating back to the Iron Age, with ritual wounds or bindings, may even represent human offerings akin to those described by Adam of Bremen.
It is essential to remember that most of these written accounts were recorded by Christian scribes, often with the intention of portraying pagan rituals as barbaric or demonic. This means that while the sagas and chronicles are invaluable, they must be read critically, with archaeology and comparative Indo-European traditions providing balance.
What is clear, however, is that the blót was not an obscure or occasional rite but a central and defining feature of Norse religion. Whether performed at the royal temples of Uppsala or the hearths of ordinary families, sacrifice bound people to gods, ancestors, and land in ways that shaped both faith and society.
How a Blót Was Performed
A blót was never a single, rigid ceremony. Like much of Norse religion, it was decentralised, situational, and adaptable to the needs of the community or household. Yet, across sagas, chronicles, and archaeological evidence, we find recurring patterns that shaped the ritual and gave it recognisable form. These elements (sacrifice, feast, drinking, and sacred space) were flexible but deeply symbolic, ensuring continuity of meaning even as the details shifted across Scandinavia.
1. The Sacrifice (Hlaut and Hlautbolli)
The sacrifice (fórn) was the most visible and memorable part of a blót. Typically, a domestic or valuable animal such as a pig, goat, horse, or cattle was selected, depending on the wealth and intention of the community. Horses, in particular, were highly significant: to kill such a noble beast marked the rite as especially solemn and powerful.
The blood of the sacrifice, known as hlaut, was carefully collected in a bowl (hlautbolli). From there, it was sprinkled (hlauttein) with twigs, evergreen branches, or brushes across altars, temple walls, cult statues, and even upon the gathered people themselves. This sprinkling was not grim or violent - it was a consecration, a literal sharing of divine power and vitality. Blood was seen as life-force, and its scattering sanctified both the space and those who stood within it.
Not every blót, however, required blood sacrifice. Smaller or household rites often involved offerings of food, drink, crafted goods, or valuables such as weapons or jewellery. These items could be buried in the earth, cast into lakes, or left on stone altars as gifts to the gods, ancestors, or land-spirits. Archaeological finds of weapons bent and destroyed before being deposited suggest that sacrifice also meant releasing the essence of an object to the divine.
2. The Feast: Sharing Between Gods and Mortals
After the sacrifice, the animal was prepared for a communal feast. This was no ordinary meal - it was sacred participation in the bond between gods and mortals.
The gods received their portion through the blood and through select cuts of meat, bones, or fat that were burned, buried, or otherwise dedicated. The rest was boiled in great cauldrons or roasted and shared among the people. Eating the sacrificial meat bound the community together, but it also bound them to the gods: the same life-force that had been offered to the divine now nourished the folk.
Feasting also had a strong social function. Leaders such as kings or chieftains displayed generosity by providing meat and drink, reinforcing their role as mediators between gods and people. Through the feast, bonds of loyalty, kinship, and hierarchy were renewed, echoing the reciprocal principle of gift-giving that permeated Norse culture.
3. The Toasts (Sumbel and Minni)
Drinking rituals were integral to many blóts, often woven into the feast. In these rites, drinking horns or cups of ale and mead were passed around in a prescribed order, each accompanied by words of great weight. This was known as sumbel or minni (memorial toast).
The first toast was typically raised to the gods, most often Odin, Thor, and Freyr, asking for their blessings in war, weather, and fertility. The second was made to the ancestors - the álfar (elves), dísir (ancestral women), and the honoured dead of the kin. The third toast was the most personal, where individuals made boasts, vows, or pledges. These words carried sacred force: to promise something in a sumbel was to bind oneself with fate and divine witness.
Through these ritual toasts, the community not only honoured divine and ancestral powers but also strengthened the bonds among themselves. Words, like gifts, created obligations. Mead and ale acted as both sacrament and social glue, embodying joy, seriousness, and sacred reciprocity in equal measure.
4. Sacred Space: Where the Divine Meets the Mortal
Blóts could take place in many settings, reflecting the flexible, decentralised nature of Norse worship.
Great Temples: Sites such as Uppsala in Sweden or Lade in Norway hosted large, centralised sacrifices. These were political as well as religious events, drawing together entire regions under the authority of kings or jarls.
Sacred Groves and Open-Air Sites: Natural landscapes were deeply holy. Groves, springs, hills, and stones often became the focus of blóts, their inherent power enhanced by the offerings made there. Tacitus, writing of Germanic tribes in the 1st century CE, remarked that they worshipped primarily in nature rather than buildings, a tradition that persisted in Scandinavia.
Farmsteads and Households: Most blóts were smaller, private, and domestic. Families held sacrifices at their homesteads, dedicating offerings to their household gods, ancestors, and local land-spirits. These rites reaffirmed kinship, fertility, and protection at the most intimate level.
In all cases, the act of dedication (declaring a space holy) was what transformed an ordinary hall, grove, or field into a sanctuary. Sacredness was not fixed to geography but was created and renewed through ritual.
Types of Blót
A blót was never random. Each one had a purpose, linked to the seasons, to family life, or to times of need. The old Norse people saw these offerings as a way of keeping balance with the gods, the ancestors, and the land.
Álfablót (Elf Sacrifice)
Álfablót was a private ritual held in autumn. It was done at the household or farm, often near burial mounds. The offerings were given to the álfar spirits of the land and the ancestors. Outsiders were not allowed, which shows how personal and sacred this rite was. Women often led the ritual.
Today, some Heathens celebrate Álfablót by making small offerings at home or at natural places, giving thanks to ancestors and land-spirits.
Dísablót (Blót to the Dísir)
Dísablót was for the dísir, the female spirits of family and fate. It was usually held at the start of winter, or in late winter/early spring. In Sweden, it was tied to a large market and assembly known as the Disting.
These spirits were believed to protect families but also had power over destiny. Offering to them was a way to seek blessings and safety.
Modern Heathens often honour the dísir in late winter with food, drink, and prayers to female ancestors.
Sigrblót (Victory Blót)
Sigrblót took place in spring, around April. It was offered mainly to Odin, asking for victory in battles, raids, or journeys. Weapons, animals, and oaths could be part of this ritual.
While in the Viking Age it was about war and raiding, today Heathens often use Sigrblót to celebrate personal victories, courage, or new starts.
Haustblót (Autumn Blót)
Haustblót was the harvest sacrifice in late autumn. It was a time to give thanks for food gathered and to prepare for the long winter. Offerings were made to the Vanir gods (Freyr, Freyja, Njörðr) who ruled over fertility and prosperity, and also to the ancestors.
Modern Heathens still celebrate Haustblót as a harvest festival, giving thanks for blessings received and asking for strength for the cold months ahead.
Jólablót (Yule Blót)
Jólablót was the sacrifice held at Yule, around the winter solstice. It was a major holy tide, asking for fertility, abundance, and survival during the darkest time of the year.
Animals were sacrificed, feasts were held, and mead was shared. The gods received their share, while the people ate the rest. Fires and greenery symbolised renewal, and the dead were honoured as they were believed to walk among the living.
Today, Jólablót is still one of the biggest Heathen festivals, with feasts, blóts, ancestor offerings, and fires to celebrate life in the deep midwinter.
Blóts for Life Events
Not every blót was tied to the calendar. Many were held at important moments in life:
Voyages and travel: Asking for safe journeys.
Weddings: Calling on the gods to bless love, fertility, and prosperity.
Births: Welcoming a new child into the family and seeking ancestral protection.
Times of need: Such as famine, sickness, or war.
These personal blóts show that sacrifice was not just for festivals but a part of everyday life when people needed help or wanted to give thanks.
The Role of the Community
When a large blót was held, such as at Uppsala in Sweden or Lade in Norway, it brought whole communities together. People travelled from far and wide, not just to honour the gods, but also to meet kin, trade goods, arrange marriages, and share news. These gatherings reminded everyone that survival depended on unity. The shared feast after the sacrifice was as important as the offering itself, binding the community together.
Leaders often presided over these public blóts - kings, jarls, or chieftains. By leading the sacrifices, they showed that they had the favour of the gods, which gave them both political and spiritual authority. A king who could not win the blessings of the gods risked losing his people’s loyalty. This is why saga accounts often show kings judged by how well they kept the old ways of sacrifice.
In Iceland, this link between politics and religion was especially clear. The goði was both a chieftain and a priest, leading legal assemblies while also performing blóts. This dual role shows how deeply woven religion and law were in Norse society. To honour the gods was also to show leadership, justice, and strength.
Blóts also carried legal and social weight. At large sacrifices, law courts or assemblies (things) were sometimes held. Disputes were settled, oaths sworn, and decisions made with the gods as witnesses. Sharing in the blót and feast afterwards sealed those agreements, giving them sacred power.
Not all blóts were public. Smaller, household sacrifices were common. These were led by the head of the family, but women often played key roles, especially when honouring ancestors, land-spirits, or the dísir (female protective spirits). This balance shows that blóts were not just about kings and warriors - they were part of daily family life, with women as keepers of ritual and memory.
Modern Revival of Blót
Today, modern Heathens, Ásatrúar, and Norse Pagans across the world have brought the practice of blót back into their lives. While the old sacrifices described in the sagas are no longer carried out in the same way (animal offerings are generally avoided) the heart of the ritual has survived: the exchange between human and divine, the strengthening of bonds, and the celebration of community.
Instead of animal sacrifice, modern blóts use symbolic gifts. Bread, mead, beer, fruit, milk, or honey are common offerings. Some practitioners make homemade food, brew their own mead, or craft tokens and charms by hand, seeing the effort and intention as part of the gift. Offerings are often poured onto the ground, placed at trees, or given at household or outdoor altars, returning them to the land or to the spirits.
For some, offerings are tied to seasonal produce: apples or root vegetables in autumn, fresh herbs in spring, evergreens in winter. This reflects the old idea of giving from what the earth provides at that time of year.
Feasting remains central. After the offerings are made, a shared meal follows. In modern blóts, this may be a potluck where everyone brings food, or a simple family dinner with a portion dedicated to the gods and ancestors. Eating together, as in the past, is seen as a way of uniting mortals and the divine.
For many Heathens, the feast is not just physical nourishment but also a moment of fellowship, strengthening friendships, families, and kindreds (small religious groups).
The Sumbel Tradition
One of the most beloved modern practices connected with blót is sumbel (ritual toasting). A horn or cup of mead, beer, or even non-alcoholic drink is passed around the group. Each person drinks and speaks in turn. The toasts usually follow three rounds:
The Gods and Goddesses – thanking them and asking for their blessings.
The Ancestors and Heroes – honouring those who came before.
Personal Oaths and Boasts – speaking promises, victories, or hopes aloud.
This tradition creates a sense of shared responsibility, because words spoken in sumbel are binding and remembered by both people and gods.
Seasonal Blóts in Modern Practice
Many Heathens today organise their ritual year around the old seasonal blóts:
Yule (Jólablót): At midwinter, offerings of mead and evergreen are made, with feasting and gift-giving.
Dísablót: Often held in February or early spring, to honour female ancestors and protective spirits.
Sigurblót (Sigrblót): In spring, offerings are made for new ventures, personal victories, and the year’s work ahead.
Midsummer Blót: Bonfires, offerings to the sun, and outdoor celebrations.
Haustblót: At the harvest, thanks are given for abundance and preparations are made for winter.
Álfablót: A quiet, private autumn rite for ancestors and land-spirits.
These festivals are not always practised on exact historical dates. Instead, modern Heathens adapt them to the local climate, community schedules, and personal needs, while keeping the spirit of the old cycle.
Blót as Connection and Reciprocity
For modern practitioners, blót is about much more than ritual.. it is about reciprocity. By giving back to the gods, ancestors, and land, Heathens affirm that life is a web of relationships, and that humans are not separate from the natural or spiritual world.
Blót is also a way of building community. In kindreds or local groups, blóts are times of gathering, celebration, and shared strength. In solitary practice, a blót can be a quiet offering at a home altar or a walk into nature, where a gift is left at a tree or stone.
Ultimately, blót today is about connection to the gods, to one’s ancestors, to the turning of the seasons, and to the land itself. Even without the old animal sacrifices, the essence of “we give, so that you may give” remains alive.
The Eternal Offering
From the misty groves of Uppsala to the longhouses of Iceland, the blót was the pulse of Norse religion. It was not an occasional spectacle but the fabric of faith, tying together gods, ancestors, and people in sacred exchange.
Even after Christianity suppressed the old rites, their essence endured in feasts, fires, and folk customs. And today, as modern pagans pour mead to the gods and call the names of their ancestors, the blót lives again - not as a relic, but as a living tradition, still reminding us of the power of reciprocity, community, and reverence.
Hail the Gods.
Hail the Ancestors.
Hail the Blót.