Mystery

Several commenters on my last post (both here and on social media) have pointed out that John Halstead’s original essay on the Three Centers of Paganism included the idea that the three centers overlap. That’s correct, of course, and I’m hardly unique in my quest to integrate Nature-centered, self-centered, and deity-centered beliefs and practices. But I feel a particularly strong need to consciously combine three separate identities into one whole identity.

Beyond my own concerns, it seems the loudest voices in the current Pagan kerfuffle are all speaking from one and only one center. If they are deity-centered, gods and goddesses (and perhaps ancestors, who are on their way to becoming deities) are their only concern. If they are self-centered, refining their souls is their only concern, and gods are metaphors or archetypes who support that refinement. If they are Nature-centered, then caring for the Earth and relating to the rest of the natural world is of primary importance.

To a certain extent this is understandable. Discoveries and advances – whether material, spiritual, or cultural – are usually made by specialists, not generalists. Our new Pagan religion(s) need these specialists creating and recreating ways to connect to the gods, techniques for spiritual growth, and ways of living sustainably.

The problem is that when you dive deeply into one small area, there is a tendency to view that area as the most important area… and in extreme cases, as the only important area. When your experience is very strong and aligns with lore and with the experiences of your coreligionists, there is a tendency to view those experiences as being literally and even exclusively true.

In other words, it’s easy to lose sight of mystery.

Last year, fellow Patheos blogger Aidan Kelly presented a series of posts on his recreation of the famous Eleusinian Mysteries (here’s a link to the first post – they aren’t all consecutive). It’s quite good and although it’s long, if you’re interested in what went on I highly recommend it. But even if by some brilliant combination of scholarship, gnosis, and luck Aidan was able to perfectly describe who did what, when, and where, reading his posts would not explain the mysteries to you. A mystery cannot be told, it can only be experienced, and experience is an individual, subjective thing.

If that is true at the level of mystery cults and initiations, it is doubly true at the level of the Divine.

I have a long relationship with Cernunnos. I met him in the woods when I was a child. I didn’t know who he was, much less that he was a god. He reintroduced himself later and called me to be his priest. I’ve led rituals in his honor. I pray to him every night. On two occasions I’ve experienced him in direct communion. I am absolutely convinced he is a real individual being with his own unique personality and agency. But the strength of my conviction doesn’t make it so.

If someone else says Cernunnos is an aspect of a universal Horned God, on what grounds can I say they’re wrong? If someone else says he’s a metaphor for the masculine principle, on what grounds can I say they’re wrong? I can say “your theory doesn’t match my experience” or “your ideas aren’t helpful to me” but that doesn’t mean I’m right and they’re wrong.

For all any of us know or think we know about the gods, their true nature remains a mystery – something we cannot know, not because we don’t have the information or because our measurement technology isn’t sufficiently advanced, but because it’s beyond the capacity of humans to know. Acknowledging mystery is an act of humility and integrity. It accepts the limitations of human perception but refuses to be restricted to only one way of knowing.

Practice diligently enough and deeply enough and like mystics of every age and every religion, eventually you will find Mystery, those moments of timelessness where the illusion of separation fades away and we realize we’re all connected, that we’re all One.

Just so there’s no misunderstanding, that statement is not an expression of monotheism. This is pantheism, or perhaps monism, and is perfectly compatible with hard polytheism: the gods are part of the Great Mystery, the same as you and me and the rocks and trees.

Secondly, it does not mean all religions are equal. We may not be able to say with certainty that one religion is more true than another, but we can – and should – say that some are more helpful than others.

And this is not an excuse for vague, little-of-this-and-little-of-that religion. Great mystics become great mystics by delving deeply into their own traditions, not by shallowly hopping from one to another.

I like theology and its rational speculation on the nature of the gods. I’ve got a long essay where I elaborate on “What Are The Gods?” It was written for another purpose and I need to rework it into two or three blog posts. My theories give me a framework for my spiritual practice. But accepting mystery means I don’t have to pretend I know more than I do and I don’t have to argue with others over matters that cannot be objectively resolved.

I like knowing, but it’s OK to not know what can’t be known. Blessed be mystery. Blessed be Mystery.

Print Friendly

About John Beckett

I’m a Druid in the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids. I’m an ordained priest in the Universal Gnostic Fellowship. I’m the Coordinating Officer of the Denton, Texas Covenant of Unitarian Universalist Pagans. This year I’m also serving as a member of the Board of Trustees of CUUPS National. I’m a member of the Denton Unitarian Universalist Fellowship.

I write as a spiritual practice. It helps me organize my thoughts and work through ideas and concepts. It helps me evaluate my beliefs and practices against my core values and against what I know (or at least, what I think I know) to be true. It helps me interpret my experiences (religious and otherwise) in ways that are both meaningful and honest.

  • Tommy Elf

    Good post. Quite a bit to ponder on for anyone coming to the topic.

    >I like knowing, but it’s OK to not know what can’t be known.

    I like this particular quote. Our understanding of the Gods comes from our own perspectives, which draw on our individual experiences. Even when we think we know all there is to know…we find out that we merely have our toe in the ocean (so to speak). I’ve come to find that out plenty of times (even on this current vacation to Montana), when I encounter the Spirits of the Land. Each little “discovery” provides a little more information, each bit of information provides me with new ways to approach my own understanding of the world around me. And yet…I’m only starting to scratch the surface – and most likely won’t know an extreme amount of detail before I pass beyond the veil. But still…the desire to understand is there, so I keep searching and keep experiencing…

    –T

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/johnbeckett/ John Beckett

      Tommy, that’s the approach I try to take. I WANT to know everything, but I have to be honest about what I can and can’t know. You do this better than most.

      Enjoy Montana – another place I’ve never been and need to go some day.

      • Tommy Elf

        Montana has been fun thus far – though its been mostly driving. The real adventure starts tomorrow with a visit to Wild Horse Island.

        Being honest about what you can and can’t know is the key here – in my opinion. Its a matter of learning your limitations – and then doing the harder part, which is accepting those limitations. I know I’ll never be able to understand all that there is in Ceremonial Magick, for instance. My brain just doesn’t bend that way. Its helpful, for me, that I have a limited amount of interest in that discipline – which allows me to set it to the side and move on to the things that I do have aptitude and desire to learn and practice. I’ve been on this Pagan Path since 1987…and there’s still so much more to learn. And that makes me very, very happy… :)

        –T

  • http://www.patheos.com/Pagan Christine Kraemer

    > Just so there’s no misunderstanding, that statement is not an expression of monotheism. This is pantheism, or perhaps monism, and is perfectly compatible with hard polytheism: the gods are part of the Great Mystery, the same as you and me and the rocks and trees.

    Please keep saying this often and loudly! It frustrates me to no end to see monism and monotheism being consistently conflated in Pagan discussions. There are important implications for practice in the difference between them.

    • http://www.patheos.com/blogs/johnbeckett/ John Beckett

      Trust me – I will. I’ve been accused of promoting monotheism on several occasions when I’ve described mystical experiences… usually by people who should know better.

    • Christopher Scott Thompson

      I’ll second that!

    • Eilidh Nic Sidheag

      Thirded. The experience of Oneness was one of the things that made it difficult for me to disentangle myself from Christianity earlier, despite not actually finding the figure of Jesus of Nazareth very attractive. It was only when I began exploring the Hindu Advaita tradition in order to support my yoga practice that I began to realise that monotheism is not necessarily the only or even the best religious expression of monism.


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X