After Fourteen Years, the First Flame

After fourteen years of living in our home, I finally built a fire pit. At first, it felt like a simple, overdue project—a circle of stones, a pile of wood, a match struck to bring it all alive. But as we sat around that first fire, I realised it was more than just a pit. To sit before a flame is to sit before something ancient. Few elements have shaped humanity so profoundly as fire—primitive yet eternal, a destroyer and a healer, feared and revered. In the glow of those flames, I wasn’t just looking at flickering light; I was staring into a mirror of our past, and into the depths of my own primitive and religious self.

Fire: The Ancient Flame That Still Burns Within Us

Few elements have shaped the story of humanity as profoundly as fire. Primitive yet eternal, fire is both a tool and a symbol, a destroyer and a healer, feared and revered. To sit before a flame, even today, is to sit before a mirror of our past.

Fire in the Beginning

For early humans, fire was more than survival—it was a threshold into civilization itself. To tame fire meant warmth in the night, protection from predators, and the possibility of cooking food that nourished body and mind. Around ancient hearths, stories were born, communities formed, and the flicker of flame became the first theater of human imagination. Fire was primal technology, but also primal mystery.

The Healing Power of Flame

Even now, we instinctively associate fire with healing. A candle flickering in a place of worship can soothe the spirit. A controlled burn of herbs in traditional medicine is believed to purify the body. The simple act of gazing into fire can calm the mind, as though the ancient brain still remembers its comforting promise of safety. Fire destroys, but it also cleanses—burning away disease, pests, or even psychological burdens in the form of ritual flames.

Sacred Ceremonies of Fire

Across cultures, fire is sacred. Hindus keep the agni—the sacred fire—at the heart of weddings and funerals. The Zoroastrians, one of the world’s oldest religious communities, honor fire as a symbol of purity and divine presence. In Native American traditions, fire circles are places of prayer, storytelling, and healing. Even lighting a birthday candle today is a small ritual, a way of placing hope into flame.

Traditions New and Old

Not all fire traditions are gentle. Europe once burned so-called “witches” at the stake, a tragic misuse of flame as a weapon of fear and control. And yet, the memory of fire is also joyful—Bonfire Night in the UK, where fireworks and flames light up November skies, or midsummer fires in Scandinavia, where communities still leap across flames to welcome fertility and good luck. Fire is paradoxical: it can unite or divide, sanctify or terrify.

Fire in World Religions

In polytheistic traditions, fire often appears as a deity or divine force. The Greeks honored Hestia, goddess of the hearth. The Romans lit sacred flames for Vesta. In many indigenous traditions, fire itself is alive, a spirit to be respected.

Monotheistic religions approach fire differently. In Judaism and Christianity, fire is both a symbol of God’s presence—the burning bush that spoke to Moses, the tongues of flame at Pentecost—and a warning of divine judgment. In Islam, fire is both the element of the jinn and the imagery of paradise and punishment. Fire is never neutral; it reveals the nearness of the divine.

A Flame That Will Not Die

Through time, fire has remained at the core of human imagination. We have placed it in temples, on pyres, in forges, and in festivals. We have feared its destruction and cherished its warmth. To speak of fire is to speak of ourselves—our creativity, our violence, our longing for connection with forces greater than us.

And so we end where we began: staring into the flames. Fire still burns within us, in the sparks of invention, the warmth of community, and the rituals that give meaning to our days.

A Burning Question

As we carry fire into the future—through nuclear power, digital sparks, and climate uncertainty—will we remain masters of the flame, or will the flame master us?