2015-06-08T09:38:33-05:00

This essay was originally published in multiple parts at Neo-Paganism.com.

A Modern Tradition with Ancient Roots

Neo-Paganism has its roots in the 19th century Romantic movement in England and Germany which saw ancient paganism as an ideological and aesthetic counter to the influence of Western modernity and industrialism.

Neo-Pagan witchrcraft, also known as Wicca, was invented by Gerald Gardner and Doreen Valiente in England in the 1940’s and 1950’s, drawing from a variety of sources, including ceremonial magic, Freemasonry, and Margaret Murray’s study of medieval witch trials.  Wicca was imported to the U.S. in 1963. Although Wicca is one of the the most well-known forms of Paganism, there were forms of Neo-Paganism which arose around the early to mid-20th century. These included a Celtic magical order founded by W. B. Yeats and George Russell in the 1890s, the British Woodcraft movement in the early 20th century, a student group at Cambridge in the 1930’s that tried to reconstruct a pagan witchcraft, and The Church of Aphrodite which was formed in New York in 1938.

summer-solstice-sunrise-at-the-stonehengeHowever, Neo-Paganism today is really a product of the American Counterculture of the 1960’s and 1970’s. Like the Romantics, the Neo-Pagans of these decades saw in ancient paganism a cure for the spiritual alienation of modernity. The beginning of the Neo-Pagan movement can be dated to 1967. In that year, three organizations were formed which shaped American Neo-Paganism: Frederick Adams founded Feraferia, a wilderness mystery religion; Aidan Kelly and others formed the New Reformed Order of the Golden Dawn (NROOGD); and Tim (Oberon) Zell filed for incorporation of the Church of All Worlds (CAW). Official status was granted to the CAW in 1968, making it the first Neo-Pagan state-recognized “church”. The CAW also began publishing the Green Egg newsletter in 1968, which became the most important public forum for Neo-Pagans many years and was instrumental in the formation of an emerging identity around the name “Neo-Pagan”.

In the 1970’s, the movement took a decidedly feminist and environmentalist turn. In 1971, Zsuzsanna Budapest founded the Susan B. Anthony Coven No. 1, creating feminist “Dianic” witchcraft, an exclusively women’s tradition. Also in 1971, Tim Zell, the founder of the CAW, published an article entitled, “Theagenesis: The Birth of the Goddess”, which anticipated James Lovelock’s 1979 “Gaia Hypothesis”.

Early forms of Neo-Paganism integrated nature religion and feminist spirituality with the mythology of Robert Graves’ book, The White Goddess,and Jungian psychology. Although Neo-Paganism draws inspiration from ancient religious myths and practices, it is a modern religion intended to meet modern spiritual needs. The primary focus of Neo-Paganism is not on historical authenticity to an ideal pagan past, but on creating a what David Waldron calls a “Pagan consciousness”, the experience of the immanence of divinity and the interconnectedness of all life.

It is now widely accepted by Neo-Paganism is not a survival of an ancient pagan tradition. As Ronald Hutton explains,

“Instead of a line of martyrs and embattled tradition-bearers, the immediate ancestors of [Neo-]Paganism became a succession of cultural radicals, appearing from the eighteenth century onward, who carried out the work of distinguishing the Pagan elements preserved in Western culture and recombining them with images and ideas retrieved directly from the remains of the ancient past, to create a set of modern religions.”

Why “Neo-“?

Many Neo-Pagans call themselves “Pagan” without the Neo- prefix. However, “Pagan” is an umbrella term which includes Neo-Pagans as well as many other kinds of Pagans. Neo-Paganism refers specifically to the “earth-centered” Paganism which emerged in the 1960s and 1970s.

All Neo-Pagans are Pagan, but not all Pagans are Neo-Pagan. Neo-Paganism is one form of contemporary Paganism grouped under what is sometimes called the “Pagan Umbrella”. Contemporary Pagans are a diverse group with varied beliefs and practices which includes Neo-Pagans, feminist witches, Pagan reconstructionists, devotional polytheists, occultists, and many more. What most contemporary Pagans have in common is that they look to ancient pagan religions and contemporary non-monotheistic religions (like Hinduism and the African diasporic religions) for religious inspiration. How they make use of these sources varies considerably.

BRONNITSY, RUSSIA - JUNE 19:  Russian neo-pagans pray celebrating the summer solstice festival called Kupalo on June 19, 2010 in a forest near Bronnitsy, 60 km east of Moscow, Russia.  Hundreds of followers of slavic neo-pagan religious movements  gathered in a forest to celebrate the midsummer. The festivities of Kupalo, or Kupala are known as one of the most expressive Russian folk and pagan holidays. According to their beliefs they try to reconstruct what they believe is the true religion of the Russian people that was destroyed by early Russian Christian church 1000 years ago when it came to Russia and violently converted local pagan populations to Christianity. After the 1991 Soviet collapse Russia has seen a revival of religious movements,superstitions and creeds such as paganism. (Photo by Konstantin Zavrazhin/Getty Images)“Neo-Pagan” is an inclusive term. It includes many Wiccans, witches, druids, shamans, animists, Goddess worshipers, religious humanists, and others. Neo-Paganism is distinguished from other forms of Paganisms by the centrality of the belief that nature is sacred, and for this reason is often called an “earth religion” or “nature religion”. Neo-Paganism is an “earth-centered” religion. The “center” here refers to the place which is most sacred. This is often expressed in theological terms of immanence or pantheism.

The difference between Neo-Paganism and other forms of contemporary Paganism is often a matter of degree. For example, while devotional polytheistic Pagans locate what is most sacred in deities — who may be thought of as a part of nature, Neo-Pagans locate what is most sacred in nature — of which deities may be a part. The earth-centered orientation of Neo-Paganism is something new, and was not usually characteristic of ancient paganisms. It is no coincidence that the birth of Neo-Paganism in the late 1960s and early 1970s coincided with the birth of the environmental movement. While many other religions, like Christianity and Buddhism, are becoming more ecological, no other non-indigenous religion has earth-centeredness as its first principle.

Neo-Paganism can be distinguished from reconstructionist forms of Paganism, which attempt to reconstruct the religions of ancient pagans from surviving historical sources. Neo-Paganism draws freely from many traditions, both ancient and modern, without concern for historical authenticity, to create a spirituality to meet modern needs. In the words of Dennis Carpenter, Neo-Paganism is a “synthesis of historical inspiration and present-day creativity”. Neo-Paganism can also distinguished from devotional polytheistic forms of Paganism, which experience Pagan deities as literal beings with individual personalities. Neo-Pagans are more likely to understand gods and goddesses as metaphors for parts of nature and our unconscious selves and/or as aspects of a greater divine unity.

“Coming Home”

Russian neo-pagans look on while participating in festivities to celebrate the summer solstice in Maloyaroslavets, some 200 kilometers (124 miles) south-west from Moscow, Russia, early Saturday, June 20, 2009. The festivities of Ivan Kupala, or John the Baptist, are similar to Mardi Gras and reflect pre-Christian Slavic traditions and practices. After the 1991 Soviet collapse, Russia has seen a revival of the Russian Orthodox church along with a surge of peripheral movements and creeds.(AP Photo/Sergey Ponomarev)Many people come to Neo-Paganism after leaving the religion they were raised in. Different Neo-Pagan groups may have different requirements for membership, like a probationary period of study, but there is no formal process of conversion to Neo-Paganism generally, and many Neo-Pagans never join any group. Anyone can call themselves Neo-Pagan (which is one of the reasons it is so difficult to define). Most Neo-Pagans come to identify as such through a process of individual spiritual exploration.

Many of us experience our coming to Neo-Paganism as a feeling of “coming home”, by which we mean that Neo-Pagan is an expression of a religious identify for which we previously had no name. For whatever reason, we feel drawn away from the religions of our birth. We feel drawn to the woods, the mountains, or the seashore. We feel a sense of the divine in nature, whether in the earth itself, in the changing of the seasons, or in our own bodies. We are moved by fairy tales, stories from folklore, and ancient pagan myths and art. When we meet other like-minded people, we discover that we are not alone and we realize that we are Neo-Pagans too.

2015-01-31T09:46:39-05:00

Neo-Paganism has multiple centers, including Earth, Deity, and Self.  This is the last in an 8-part series that explores Neo-Paganism as a Self-Centric “mystery religion”. This essay was originally published at Neo-Paganism.org.

xxPolarityAscension-Celebration-1 2
“Ascension Celebration” by Willow Arlenea

Neo-Pagan ritual may be understood to operate on different levels at once. Different people can have different experiences in the same ritual, depending on where they are in their spiritual development. Broadly speaking, Neo-Pagan ritual has an exoteric and an esoteric aspect. One exoteric expression of Neo-Pagan ritual is celebratory. On this level, Neo-Pagan ritual may be about celebrating the changing of the seasons and experiencing a connection with the Earth.

On a more personal, but still exoteric level, a Neo-Pagan celebration of the changing seasons can be experiences as an outward symbol of inward personal changes. These can be the changes of the human life-cycle or the ebb and flow of enthusiasm that we experience psychologically (sometimes corresponding with the changing of the seasons). Through ritual, we can recognize that change is unavoidable and that there is a season to all things, a winter and summer, both inside and out. Part of this is the awareness that we will, one day, die.

On the esoteric level, Neo-Pagan ritual can be about spiritual transformation of the individual. It can be understood as facilitating the process of individuation or achieving personal wholeness. Neo-Pagan ritual can be a therapeutic tool for incarnating, consecrating, and integrating the shadow elements of our psyche which have been repressed by our Western guilt/shame culture. Neo-Pagan ritual can be a formal way of, in Carl Jung’s words, “making the darkness conscious”. Through ritual, we can express an intention to treat all of our drives and temptations with respect and love, so they will reveal their meaning to us.

Esoteric ritual may also be a method, not of integrating the psyche, but as a form of controlled dis-integration. A person’s psychic life can be thought of as a cycle consisting of two movements: The first movement is the emergence (birth) of the ego from the unconscious, symbolized Mother Goddess. This is the spiritual movement toward increasing individuation, but also increasing alienation, from our Source. Friedrich Nietzsche associated this movement with the Greek god Apollo. But true psychological wholeness requires us to periodically return to the Source and to sublimate our ego. And this is the second movement, the mystical movement, which Nietzsche associated with the Greek God Dionysos. Reunion with the Goddess is experienced as that oceanic sense of oneness that the mystics of many different traditions describe. It is the ego death that is the goal of true initiatory experience. Of course, we cannot remain in that place. The difference between the mystic and the madman is that the latter does not return from the Source.

Neo-Pagan ritual can focus on any one of these functions, or it can do more than one. All of them are important. Different people may experience the same ritual differently: as a celebration of and an experience of connection with nature; as a celebration of and acceptance of change in our own lives; as an honoring and welcoming of parts of ourselves that have been neglected or rejected; and an experience of the loss of the sense of self and of union with the transcendent.

2014-09-08T13:27:27-05:00

Humanistic Paganism and nature56Naturalistic Paganism are both terms used to describe a unique Pagan path for those who are uncomfortable with or skeptical of the supernatural or metaphysical elements of contemporary Paganism.  In brief, it is Paganism without the “woo”.  Of if you prefer to frame it in affirmative terms, it is Paganism that is firmly rooted in the physical world.

What is Humanistic Paganism?

Both names are somewhat problematic for reasons that will be discussed below.  Humanistic Paganism is a form of Religious Humanism or Spiritual Humanism.  Religious Humanism can describe any religion that takes a human-centered ethical perspective, as contrasted with a deity-centered ethical perspective.  A humanistic ethic is one that begins and ends with human beings.  What is good is defined in terms of human experience, not the will of any God or gods.  Religious Humanists tend to be atheistic or non-theistic.  Even if the gods did exist, a Religious Humanist would say that we can’t know their will, and so we must base on our actions on what we human beings know — our own experience. For Religious Humanists, human experience and reason provide a more than sufficient basis for ethical action without supernatural revelation.  In fact, Religious Humanism is arguably more ethical than theistic religion.  For example, a humanistic religion would arguably be less likely to lead to genocide than a theistic one, since the will of an inscrutable god or gods cannot be used to justify human suffering.

For many Pagans, the term is “Humanistic Paganism” is problematic, however, since it seems to exclude the more-than-human world, including animals, plants, and the earth itself.  But humanism should not be confused with anthropocentrism.  A Humanistic Paganism can embrace the notion that we humans are part of a much larger community of beings to whom we have ethical obligations.  The adjective “humanistic” is intended to contrast with “theistic”; it excludes gods, but not other living beings.  Perhaps a a more accurate term, then, would be “Biotic Paganism”, but unfortunately it does not have the same cultural cachet as “Humanism”.

What is Naturalistic Paganism?

“Humanistic Paganism” has come to be used more or less synonymously with “Naturalistic Paganism.”  Naturalistic Paganism is a form of Religious Naturalism or Spiritual Naturalism.  The word “Naturalistic” refers to a commitment to philosophical naturalism.  Philosophical naturalism seeks to explain the universe without resort to supernatural causes.  For most Naturalistic Pagans, “naturalistic” is more or less synonymous with “scientific”.  In general, Naturalistic Pagans adopt the most current explanations of science and are skeptical of any claims that are not supported by science.  Thus, Naturalistic Pagans are skeptical about things like magic/magic(k), psychic abilities, communication with spirit entities, attributing intention to inanimate nature, etc. — things that many other Pagans are completely comfortable with.  To the extent that Naturalistic Pagans speak about “magic” or “gods”, we tend to use these words differently than their common usage.  For example, Naturalistic Pagans may speak about “magic”, but as a kind of psychological technique.  Or they may understand “gods” as metaphors for natural phenomena or as psychological archetypes.

Just as Religious Humanism posits that human experience and reason are sufficient basis for ethical action, so Religious Naturalism posits that the scientific understanding of the material universe is a sufficient basis for the awe and reverence which drive religious worship.  As Carl Sagan has famously written:

“In some respects, science has far surpassed religion in delivering awe. How is it that hardly any major religion has looked at science and concluded, ‘This is better than we thought! The Universe is much bigger than our prophets said, grander, more subtle, more elegant?’ Instead they say, ‘No, no, no! My god is a little god, and I want him to stay that way.’ A religion, old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by modern science might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths. Sooner or later such a religion will emerge.”

Similarly Alan Watts has written, “Science has given to our age a most impressive view of this universe, and this demands an equivalently wonderful and splendid conception of God together with an appropriate manner of worship.”  Naturalistic Paganism aims to be a such religion which can provide this “larger” conception of the divine along with an appropriate manner of worship.

What does “Naturalistic” mean?

The name “Naturalistic Paganism” creates some confusion, though, first of all because Paganism generally is already considered a nature religion or an earth-centered religion.  Consequently, some people who come across the name “Naturalistic Paganism” may think it is redundant.  If I describe myself as a Naturalistic Pagan, another Pagan may respond, “I’m naturalistic too.  I love nature.”  But the confusion does not stop there.

Different Naturalistic Pagans will draw the line between what is “naturalistic” and what is “supernatural” in different places.  For instance, I recently had a contributor at the HumanisticPaganism.com (which I edit) distance himself somewhat from the site because I had invited another person to write about a “naturalistic” theory of astrology.  Just the word “astrology” was enough to send him running.  Honestly, I have a similar emotional reaction to the word “astrology”, but I was curious nonetheless what a “naturalistic” astrology would look like.  If Naturalistic Pagans can reclaim “magic” and “gods” (not to mention “paganism”), why not “astrology”?  I myself frequently write about Jungian psychology, which many Naturalistic Pagans may find beyond the pale, because it is not sufficiently verifiable by the scientific method.

In addition, defining Naturalistic Paganism in terms of a natural/supernatural dichotomy is especially problematic when talking to many Pagans for whom the line between the natural and the super-natural is fuzzy at best.  For many Pagans, things like magic and gods are entirely “natural” phenomenal; they are just phenomena that science has yet to verify.  Oftentimes Pagans will invoke scientific metaphors (like “energy”) or actual scientific theories, like quantum mechanics or the Uncertainty Principle, to brush off the objections of philosophical naturalists.  Regardless of the pseudo-scientific nature of these explanations, even the most dogmatic Naturalistic Pagan should admit that there are many things science has yet to discover or explain.  What then is the difference between something that is supernatural and something that is natural but not yet discovered by science.  It is easy to get bogged down in trying to define just what is and is not “naturalistic”, and we tend to talk ourselves in circles.  Similar distinctions between physics vs. metaphysics and the material vs. the immaterial lead to the same place: we just know it when we see it.

I think it makes more sense to describe Naturalistic Pagans in terms of attitudes, rather than bright line definitions.  Naturalistic Pagans tend to be skeptical of claims that have yet to be proven by science, while other Pagans tend to be more skeptical of science — or at least skeptical of the reach of scientific competency.  While many Pagans take a “proceed until proven wrong” approach to things like magic and gods, Naturalistic Pagans take more of a “wait and see” approach.  Your average Pagan will practice magic and invoke gods until they are convinced that these things do not exist, but the Naturalistic Pagan will not do any of these things until they are first proven to exist.  Each is problematic in its own way: The first risks being a fool, and the second a coward.

Being a Naturalistic Pagan

I came to Paganism, fleeing from the transcendental monotheism of Christianity.  I was drawn to Paganism because of its this-worldly orientation.  Paganism seemed to say to me, “we must find the divine in the here-and-now or not at all.”   A pantheistic Goddess, the seasonal Wheel of the Year, and a pro-body/pro-sex ethic all confirmed for me that Paganism was a religion of immanence.  But then I became disturbed by what seemed to me like a lot of fuzzy-headed wishful thinking, things like a belief in instrumental magic (magic that causes change in the physical world without corresponding physical action), mind-over-matter, crystals and magic wands, literal gods as conscious beings, and so on and so on.  This kind of Paganism too closely resembled the other-worldliness of the transcendental Christianity I was leaving behind.  I was very fortunate when I discovered B. T. Newberg’s site, HumanisticPaganism.com (which he transformed into a community blog) and the NaturalisticPaganism Yahoo group started by Jon Cleland Host, where I found many other people who had a love of Paganism, but not the metaphysical aspects of it — people who loved the myth and ritual, but not the credulity and superstition.

I am a Naturalistic Pagan.  However, I am still trying to work out the right balance between being a fool and a coward.  While I am skeptical of anything that smacks of “woo”, I do think genuine spirituality requires a kind of suspension of disbelief at some point, even a leap of faith.  I think we need to use our rational brains (the neocortex) at least to decide just where to leap, then we can let go of the rational side and jump, letting the emotional side (the limbic system) take over … but then we need to go back to the rational side and evaluate if it was the right place to jump after all.  Healthy spirituality is ongoing dialectic, I think.  It’s not so much a matter of finding the right balance between the two — that’s like trying to get half-way into the pool — but of letting each side have free reign in its own time and place.

Too much of the rational side and our spiritual lives become an arid desert, too little and we can be lost in a flood of sensation and emotion.  Naturalistic Pagans tend to err on the side of making our spiritual lives a desert, I think.  We risk spending our lives on the bench, spiritually speaking.  As D.T. Strain has written in his wonderful essay, “Letting Go of the Side of the Pool”, Religious Naturalists (which includes Naturalistic Pagans) have a tendency to always be looking at things from the third-person “objective” point of view, as opposed to full immersion in first-person subjective experience — so we tend to talk or write about things, rather than actually doing them or experiencing them.  But, as D. T. writes, “we cannot achieve greater subjective intuitive experience through greater objective intellectual knowledge alone.”  In other words, intimacy cannot be achieved through distance, and real spirituality is an intimate experience if nothing else.  Over at HumanisticPaganism.com, I have recently posted an essay entitled “Being a Spiritual Wallflower: How Humanistic Pagans can get off the wall and dance”, in which I offer some ideas for how I think Naturalistic Pagans can take that leap into the pool of spiritual experience.  Come over and check it out.

Every religious path has its challenges, and that includes Naturalistic Paganism.  But it remains my spiritual home.  It doesn’t have all the answers, but for me, it is asking the right questions: How can we take the vision of the magnificent Universe offered to us by contemporary science and articulate an appropriate response to the awe and reverence which it inspires?

2014-03-01T08:58:37-05:00

One of the highlights of this year’s Pantheacon for me was the scheduled discussion about Wiccanate privilege presided over by Don Frew and PSVL. The discussion was held in a packed room in the COG/NROOGD/NWC suite. There were many “Big Name Pagans” (BNPs) there, including Starhawk, Margot Adler, Gus DiZerega, Macha Nightmare, Sabina Magliocco, Taylor Ellwood, and others, and I felt privileged to be in the room. (There were lots of other people there whose names I should know, but I did not catch, so I apologize in advance for not being able to refer to everyone by name.)

Anyway, Don Frew started out the discussion by explaining that he had written an article, “The Rudiments of Neo-Pagan Spiritual Practice”, which was published out of its intended context, and elicited a strong reaction, as it definitely was not an inclusive statement of Pagan practice. You can read some of that response in the comments at The Wild Hunt’s Pagan Community Notes and in the comments to Don’s guest post at Pointedly Pagan and at PSVL’s blog. PSVL then explained a little about devotional polytheism and Wiccanate privilege. What followed was, unfortunately, less of a discussion and more of a series of people taking turns talking. I would much rather have heard Don and PSVL respond to each person’s comments, which would have taken longer, but in my opinion would have been more productive, even if everyone didn’t get to “have their say.” The result was, I think, that a lot of people left without really understanding what PSVL and the other devotional polytheists present were talking about.

I can’t do justice to the entire session, but I do want to highlight a few points. But before I go there, I should explain two things. First, “Wiccanate” is a term coined by Johnny Rapture, and it refers to American Neo-Pagan theological ideas and liturgical forms common to large public Pagan gatherings and rituals, which are derived from Wicca, but are perceived to be “generic” or “universal” to Paganism. “Wiccan-Centric” is a related term. “Wiccanate privilege” is a phrase that has been going round in polytheist circles recently. It refers to the ways in which Wicca-inspired ritual and theology are assumed to be normative for Paganism as a whole.

Second, I am one of those Pagans who benefits from Wiccanate privilege, because my ritual and my theology are influenced by what is variously called “Neo-Wicca“, “California Eclectic Wicca”, etc. — i.e., I celebrate the eight stations of the Wheel of the Year, my mythology is inspired by Robert Graves, I am comfortable with ritual structured by a quartered circle and the four Greek elements and four Jungian functions, and my theology is pan(en)theistic and hetero-normative. Having said that, I recognize that Wiccanate privilege is real and it is problematic.

All Wiccanates are not Wiccans

The first thing I noticed in the discussion was that there is still some serious confusion about what “Wiccanate” means. The initiated Garnderians in the room heard “Wiccan” and “Wiccanate” and they seemed to think the speaker meant initiatory British Traditional Witchcraft. What polytheists mean by “Wiccan” or “Wiccanate” is not traditional initiatory Wicca, but Wicca-inspired Neo-Paganism or Neo-Wicca, what Don Frew pejoratively called “Llewellyn Craft”. You can say that only initiatory British Traditional Witchcraft is “real Wicca” until you are blue in the face. But folks, that ship has sailed. It sailed with Scott Cunningham and Llewellyn and the Internet. To most people, “Wicca” now means American Neo-Wicca, the blending of traditional Wiccan ritual forms, with spiritual feminism, Jungian psychology, and the mythology of Robert Graves.

Today, Neo-Wiccan or Wiccanate theology and ritual forms have so thoroughly interpenetrated Pagan festivals and publications that its influence is invisible to many people steeped in the culture. There are a number of reasons for this. One reason is that, decades ago, influential Pagans like Oberon Zell and Ed Fitch started referring to “Outer Court” Wiccan ritual forms as “Neo-Pagan” or just “Pagan”. At the same time, “Pagan” was starting to be used as an umbrella term to describe a variety of religions, including many that had little to do with Wicca and some which were consciously trying to distinguish themselves from Wicca, like ADF and pagan reconstructionists. This was a recipe for confusion. Continuing to insist that “Wicca” is limited to initiatory British Traditional Wicca today just contributes to the obfuscation of Wiccanate hegemony. This is why I could attend a CUUPS Imbolc ritual where the ritual leaders cast a circle, called the quarters, invoked the Lord and Lady, and even used a bessom broom to clear the ritual space, and those same leaders could emphatically state that they were not “Wiccan”, i.e., because they were not initiated.

One polytheist who took part in the Wiccanate discussion at Pantheacon (Finnchuill, I think) attempted to problematize a prayer by Thorn Coyle which closed the Pantheacon “Paganism and Privilege” panel, calling it “Wiccanate”. The prayer in question begins, “Holy Mother, in whom we live, move, and have our being …”. The Wiccans in the room promptly responded that this was Feri, not Wiccan. Setting aside the question of Wicca’s influence on Victor and Cora Anderson, the founders of Feri, this response really missed the point. Whether it is Wiccan or Feri, it is “Wiccanate” because it invokes a pantheistic universal Goddess, rather than a singular, individual goddess.

When Starhawk’s turn to speak came, she explained that she does not read blogs and, in her opinion, all these theological distinctions don’t matter, because what all Pagans can agree on is that the earth needs saving and we need to take action. This was met with applause. Part of me agrees with her about the relative importance of theology and ecology. But her statement was, itself, another manifestation of Wiccanate privilege. Starhawk seemed to assume that “Pagan” was synonymous with “earth-centered”. This is a very common mistake to make, one which Gus DiZerega has made repeatedly. In fact, I think it was Gus, who during the discussion said that the three things that Paganism brings to interfaith are (1) the earth, (2) the divine feminine, and (3) ritual. As much as this resonates with me personally, I have to recognize that this is an earth-centric Pagan perspective. And the fact is that it excludes devotional polytheists whose practice is more deity-centered than earth-centered. While traditional initiatory Wicca is not really earth-centered — British Traditional Wicca is more big-“S” Self-centric — Wiccanate Paganism is earth-centered.*

I was surprised that many of the BNPs in the room did not seem to get that. This was evident when someone attempted to correct PSVL’s intentional reference to the gathered group as “interfaith”, erroneous assuming e meant “intrafaith”.  Honestly, a big part of the confusion seemed to be a generational divide.  PSVL handled it very well, better than I would have.  I was, frankly, disappointed in my fellow Wiccanates.

Don concluded the discussion essentially inviting devotional polytheists to greater participation. This is a nicer version of a common injunction to devotional polytheists to “show up”. This assumes they have not. It’s quite possible that they have, and we have not taken account of them. As one devotional polytheist recently wrote to me, “In a way, what we are fighting against isn’t their desire to exclude us, but their desire to believe they have already achieved perfect inclusivity.” That nails it on the head for me! It’s good that we Wiccanate Pagans value inclusivity, but it kind of misses the point, because holding the value and actually being inclusive are different. Whenever it comes to Pan-Pagan gatherings and Pagan ecumenical efforts — like Pagan Pride Day — Wiccanate ritual and theology always prevails.

Consider the experience of Pagan Pride Day described by Luis Valadez (Oracle) here and here, which seems to be a common experience among devotional polytheists.  It’s a problem is that we even believe there is such a thing as a “generic Pagan prayer” or a “generic Pagan ritual.” I’ve heard this term used by Wiccans, Neo-Pagans, and devotional polytheists alike. And that statement itself is a manifestation of Wiccanate privilege — whether the statement is made by the privileged or the un-privileged. What we commonly call “generic Pagan” ritual — casting a circle, calling the quarters, invoking the God and Goddess — is not generic anything. It is Wiccanate. It is Wicca-inspired Neo-Paganism or American Neo-Wiccan Paganism. And as such, it excludes many Pagans, including devotional polytheists. When we present a so-called “generic” or “watered-down” Pagan ritual at Pagan Pride Day, we are really privileging Wiccanate Pagans.

I was pleased to hear, though, Rayna Templebee respond by identifying the privilege that was manifesting in the room at the time. She pointed out that some of the speakers had not bothered to introduce themselves (Starhawk was one), because they could assume that everyone knew them. That is a manifestation of privilege, as was the implication that their understanding of Paganism is normative.

Who Speaks for Us?

Was it appropriate for Thorn Coyle to offer a pantheistic prayer following the close of a panel discussion on privilege? As someone in the discussion pointed out, it would be quite surprising to hear Thorn offer any other prayer. But when a person offers a prayer in an interfaith context (and the “Paganism and Privilege” session was an interfaith context), what responsibilities do they have to represent the gathering as a whole when they pray? What alternatives are there to praying from one’s own tradition? Is it even possible to pray in a way that will be representative of everyone present? I think it does behoove the person praying to try to be inclusive, but it is probably impossible to pray in a way that will not exclude somebody.

At one point in the discussion, PSVL directed a question to the room as a whole; e** asked if we would not feel excluded were e to offer a prayer to Antinous at the close of an interfaith gathering. The room responded immediately and vocally with a near-unanimous, “No!” We all said we would not feel excluded. Several people said that they would want to hear PSVL’s prayer. PSVL later shared eir account of participating in the closing ritual for Pantheacon years ago in which e was invited to call one of the quarters and e did not say “hail and farewell”. The response was something less than what e had hoped for. I suspect this was probably because those gathered did not know how to respond to the call. But there is a larger point here. The people participating in the Wiccante discussion (including myself) could be gracious about wanting to hear PSVL’s prayer to Antinous because we are the beneficiaries of Wiccanate privilege. We can make room for PSVL’s prayer, because there is so much room available for us. We would not feel excluded by PSVL’s prayer, because eir prayer remains the exception to the rule. And that rule is Wiccanate Paganism. I suspect most of the people in the room would have felt differently if devotional polytheism were the norm and Wiccanate Paganism were the exception.

The problem, as I see it, is not that Thorn or anyone else would offer a pantheistic prayer in a Pagan interfaith context. No prayer can be totally inclusive. The problem is when a pantheistic prayer is offered in such a way that it seems to assume that the prayer is representative of everyone. Thorn can offer her prayer, but I think she should have prefaced it by explaining briefly that this is a prayer that she knows from her tradition and it reflects her understanding of deity.  Instead, to some people who heard it, it seemed like she was assuming that everyone knew where her prayer came from. Honestly, I never thought this before when I heard Thorn offer this prayer, but I can see now how it can be perceived as a manifestation of privilege. Thorn actually has addressed this recently here, and you should definitely read her post.  I would expect PSVL to give the same kind of explanation when e offers a prayer to Antinous at an opening ritual of Pantheacon.

Polytheistic with a Hyphen

PSVL explained to the group that “polytheism” means the worship of more than one deity. Of course, to me, this begs the question of what a “deity” is. E took the position that, if you are a polytheist and something else, like a monist or a pantheist, then you need to say so when you use the word “polytheist”. If you are a “polytheistic panentheistic monist” like Don Frew or a Jungian polytheist like Margot Adler, then don’t just call yourself a polytheist, especially when talking to other Pagans.

I agree, but I was a little surprised to hear PSVL except emself from this rule, and imply that “polytheism” necessarily means eir kind of polytheism, i.e. a belief in multiple gods as independent volitional beings that exist outside of us.  E had recently blogged that e had adopted the term “devotional polytheist”, which I think is a good way of distinguishing eir deity-centered polytheism from other forms of polytheism, like Jungian polytheism, for example.  I had hoped e would promote this distinction.  Instead, e claimed the right to define a word for others — which is a cardinal sin in a Pan-Pagan gathering.

There was a moving moment in the discussion when Margot Adler shared her story of coming to Paganism, when “Wicca was all there was.” She said that, if there had been a Hellenic polytheism at that time (the 1970s), she would have chosen that path, because she was always called to the Greek gods and goddesses. Margot then looked directly at PSVL, and her voice broke as she said that eir excluding “archetypal” understandings of the gods from the definition of “polytheist” makes her feel excluded and “worries” her. This stood out to me, because Margot is someone I admire greatly, and she was one of the people I quoted in my post about my Neo-Pagan theology which recently set off a mini-firestorm in the Pagan blogosphere over of my use of the word “polytheism”.

Margot happens to be the granddaughter of Alfred Adler who, together with Freud and Jung, founded psychotherapy. She considers herself a polytheist, but she is not the same kind of polytheist as PSVL. She recently wrote in her book, Vampires Are Us, “I entered into Paganism because of a love of ritual and a love of the Greek goddesses going back to childhood. And if I go back to my earliest dreams and fantasies of Paganism—the Greek goddesses that I so loved when I was twelve—I knew in the depths of my being that I didn’t want to worship them; I wanted to be them.” (emphasis original). This is the difference between deity-centered and Self-centric Paganism.

I agree with PSVL that the hyphens are necessary when we are communicating to each other what kind of polytheists and Pagans we are. However, I think that applies to devotional or deity-centered polytheists, too! Otherwise, you end up excluding nearly everybody else in the room (almost who all raised their hands to indicate they identified as “polytheist” is some sense).  This includes people like Margot Adler, for gods’ sake, who was using the term before many of us were even born!  The insistence on a definition of polytheism that excludes people like Margot Adler will always be a dead end for polytheists hoping to communicate with other Pagans.

So here was my take away from the discussion:

1.  Wiccanate privilege is real. Don’t assume that all Paganism is earth-centered.

2.  There is no generic Paganism. Don’t assume that your Paganism is anyone else’s.

3.  Embrace hyphens. Don’t assume your polytheism is anyone else’s.

Note: PSVL has summarized eir experience of the discussion here.  Go check it out!

* See Vivianne Crowley (1998), “Wicca as Nature Religion” in Pearson, J. et al (eds), Nature Religion Today: Paganism in the Modern World, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, pp. 170-179; Jo Pearson (2000), “Wicca, Esotericism and Living Nature: Assessing Wicca as Nature Religion” in Pomegranate: The International Journal of Pagan Studies, Issue Number 14, November 2000.

** PSVL is a metagender person, and metagender pronouns are different from the binary gendered pronouns most people are familiar with.  For more info, see here.  Consequently, what looks like typos above is the intentional use of alternative pronouns for an individual who is not male or female.  (Sometimes I still mess up though and accidentally use binary gendered pronouns for metagender persons.  If you notice I have, let me know and I will correct it.)

 

2014-02-05T11:53:06-05:00

The Space Between

The bullets in our firefight
Is where I’ll be hiding, waiting for you
[…]
The Space Between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain
[…]
The Space Between
What’s wrong and right
Is where you’ll find me hiding, waiting for you
The Space Between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we’ll fill with time

 — “The Space Between”, Dave Matthews Band

 

“The Space Between” by Thomas Huang, Wharariki Beach, New Zealand

Words and Meaning

“Words have meaning.”  

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard that statement from certain devotional polytheists in online arguments over the last couple of years.  The statement is most often intended to express the belief that I have used a word in a manner the speaker deems incorrect (and even offensive).  “Polytheistic” is only the latest example.  Before that it was “gods”.  And before that it was “Pagan”.  My perceived misuse of these words has been characterized as everything from mere sophistry to an attack on others’ religious identities to an attack on our very ability to communicate.

Recently though, I realized that the sentence above (“Words have meaning.”) was familiar for another reason.  It is familiar because I’ve said it myself before.  Long before I was Pagan, I said those very words to my wife when I was leaving the Mormon church.  The word in question at the time was “truth”.  I was hung up on the way that Mormons use the word “true”.  On the first Sunday every month, Mormons have a testimony meeting where members volunteer to come to the pulpit and deliver a short, spontaneous, “This I believe …” type statement of faith.  Almost all the testimonies offered will include some form of the statement, “I know the [Mormon] Church is true.”  Obviously, since I was leaving the LDS Church, I did not think the Church was “true”.  When we discussed it, my wife took the position though that the word “true” could be understood in a relativistic sense, as in “I know the [Mormon] Church is true for me.”  My response?  “Words have meaning.”

So there is a certain cosmic justice at work in the fact that I am hearing these same words being used in response to my own statements of faith today.

But, over the years since I made that statement to my wife, I have slowly come to embrace a different attitude toward questions of truth, meaning, and language.  I am working on becoming more comfortable with a greater degree of ambiguity in these matters.

Categorizing: Putting experiences in word boxes

I love categorizing things (as anyone knows who had read this blog).  My natural reaction to any new experience is to try to fit it in a box, a word box.  It is the way I structure my experience and make sense of my world.  It is how I make a cosmos out of chaos.  Not everyone needs categories to the same degree as I do, but I think everyone uses them to one degree or another.  I still love categorizing.  But more and more I am appreciating how real life bleeds across the boundaries of my categories.  Take for instance my categorization of Pagans into the four “centers” of Earth, Self, Deity, Community.  (I started out with three and later added a fourth.)  Some Pagans might fit into just one of these categories, but many (maybe most) Pagans fall into two or more categories.  But even if no one fit into just one category, I think these categories would still be useful for making sense of our differences and similarities.  These categories still have meaning, not as solid containers but as overlapping penumbras under the Pagan umbrellas.

Today, I am less and less inclined to try to force my experiences into any single category.  More and more I am embracing the possibility of both/and instead of either/or.  Words do have meaning.  Or more accurately, they do have meanings (plural).  And it’s a good thing, because there are not enough words in the English language (or ancient Greek or any other language) to contain human experience.  And nowhere is this more true than in the area of religious experience.

Am I a theist or an atheist?  For some devotional polytheists, those seem to be the only two options.  And to them, I clearly fall into the latter group.  But neither really describes me.  Is pan-theism theistic or a-atheistic?  And what about pan-en-thism?  Do I believe the gods are real?  Yes and no.  Is Jungian polytheism a religion or a psychology?  Both/and.  Are the gods in our heads or “out there” in the world?  Both/and.  Are the gods one or many?  Both/and.

“The Space Between” (version 2) by pincel3d

A Space Between

I started this blog as an effort to carve out a space where I could explore these ambiguities.  A space where I could exist between my twin desires for the messiness of incarnation and the purity of transcendence.  A space between a reductive materialism and an ungrounded supernaturalism  A space between the dangers of the psychologization of my religious experience on the one hand and the reification of that religious experience on the other.  Over time, many of you have joined me in this exploration.  And my journey has been greatly enriched by your company and your wisdom.  You have reminded me time and again of the porousness and fluidity of my categories.

And every time you do, I have to admit, I feel a certain measure of fear.  Fear of letting go of the rigidity of my categories.  Fear of considering unfamiliar categories for my experiences.  Fear of opening up to experiences that I do not yet have categories for.  Why fear?  Because those categories are the boundaries that keeps chaos at bay.  To a certain type of mind, such as my own, these arguments over the meaning of words can feel like life and death.  And that is why debates over the etymology of words can turn into a struggle for existential survival.  I felt this acutely when I was leaving the Mormon church.  At that time, I very much needed the word “true” to mean something, one thing and only one thing.  I believed the Mormon church was “false”, and for “false” to mean something, for my departure from the Mormon church to mean something, “true” had to mean something too.  To let go of that definition felt like letting go of who I was.  Today, I have grown more comfortable with the notion that people mean different things when they say “I know this church is true.”  Today, I don’t feel quite as much angst when I hear Mormons use that phrase.

But still I understand the tenacity with which some devotional polytheists hold to certain definitions.  I feel it too.  I felt it acutely when I first realized that there were people calling themselves “Pagan” who did not fit my narrow image of what Paganism was.  I still feel it sometimes.  I feel it when others describe experiences I don’t have a category for.  I feel it when you, my readers, call me to move out of my categories and return to my experience.  I fight against it almost every time I blog.  Sometimes I am more successful than others.  Sometimes (probably more often than I’d like to admit) I let the need for clear bright lines overwhelm me.  But sometimes I manage to stay open to the ambiguity, to the mystery, of human experience.  Sometimes my curiosity exceeds my fear.  Sometimes I manage to make the words serve me, rather than making me their servant.

Mandy Martin, “Wanderers in the desert of the real”

Words do have meanings.  And those meanings are important.  Without them, we could not communicate with one another.  Without them, we would drown in a flood of chaos.  But there are other ways to die than drowning.  We can die of thirst a “desert of the real” where a slavish worship of words has cut us off from the very experiences which give life to those words. “Where there is no water nothing lives; where there is too much of it everything drowns. It is the task of consciousness to select the right place where you are not too near and not too far from water; but water is indispensable.” (Jung)  Life happens in this space in-between, in the space between the words.

2014-01-31T09:03:02-05:00

Conor O’Bryan Warren asked me during our Pagan Tea Time chat what “Jungian polytheism” is.  I found myself stumbling over how to answer, primarily because Conor is a devotional polytheist, and I know how some polytheists feel about my Jung-talk.  But Conor was genuinely wondering what the heck I was talking about.  So I gave it a shot.  Here’s what I said, less eloquently and more succinctly, to Conor.

First of all, as I explained in a previous post, I don’t really call myself a Jungian polytheist or any kind of polytheist, because “polytheism” (note the quotes) is just one element of my belief system, and not one that I would place right in the center.  But let’s set that issue aside and explain what a “Jungian polytheism” looks like.  I’ve written about this before on this blog at my Jungian Neo-Paganism blog, Dreaming the Myth Forward.  I usually quote a lot of Carl Jung, because I love how he says things, and I try to make it sound erudite.  But in this post, I want to try to explain it as simply as I can using my own words.  As an experiment, I’m going to resist the urge to quote Jung or anyone else.  (If you want to read some of what Jung said, you can check out my other blog, click on some of the links below, or just type “Jung” into the search engine to the right.)

For me, being Pagan means that I find the divine (1) in myself and (2) in the world around me.  These are two aspects of my Paganism that I struggle to bring together: the Self-centric Paganism and the earth-centric Paganism.  Anyway, “Jungian polytheism” is (mostly) part of the former, the part of my religion that locates the divine in myself.

Now, when I say I locate the divine in myself, I don’t mean I am divinizing my conscious ego-self — that would be delusional.  For me, what I am calling “myself” or “my Self” is much larger than my conscious mind — which is just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.  My “Self” includes an unconscious that is much “larger” than what I ordinarily think of as “me”.  In fact, that larger Self may very well expand out into the world in some way, and that is where my Self-centric and earth-centric Paganism begin to overlap.  (But that’s a discussion for another day.)  This all comes from the psychologist, Carl Jung.  So that’s where the Jungian part of “Jungian polytheism” comes from.

What’s important for this discussion is to understand that this unconscious Self is not unitary.  It is made up of myriad partial personalities running around in the background of my conscious mind.  These partial selves are not invented; they are discovered — through meditation, dreams, analysis of neurosis and so on.  They often have certain resemblances or correspondences to the gods and heroes of myth.  (I think there’s a reason for that, but again that’s a discussion for another day.)  So that’s where the poly- part of the “Jungian polytheism” comes from: There are “many” of these partial selves.

If these partial selves are left to their own devices, they will drive us to ruin, because they are all battling for dominance.  At any given moment, we can be kind of “possessed” by one of these mini-personalities that drive us or “ride” us.  By making room in my conscious life for each of these selves, a sacred time and a sacred place to honor each of them in their own right, I bring order to the chaos that is my “self”.  This can be done through therapy or many other ways.  I do it through ritual.  The goal of ritual, for me, is not mastery of these other selves, but wholeness.  Through ritual, I seek to integrate these partial selves with my conscious self.  Personal power (power-with, not power-over), I believe comes from bringing these disparate personal forces into some kind of harmony.

But why call them gods?  That’s a question I really didn’t get to when talking to Conor.  The reason I call them “gods” is because I can’t think of any other word that adequately describes the overwhelming influence that these powers have over our lives.  In a very real sense, they are living us.  They determine our fate, the way a literal god would.  We might also call them demons (or, better, what the Greeks called daimones), but the goal to to sacralize them, not to demonize them — to honor them, and treat each of them as holy.  (What are demons anyway, but the repressed gods of a conquered people?)  And that’s the other reason why I call them “gods” — because I respond to them the way I would to a god, by honoring them in sacred ritual.  And invoking these “gods” can have the same effect within me that many people experience by praying to traditional gods, such as emotional healing and personal transformation.  Can they help me get a job or a lover?  Of course they can: by helping me to change, so I can change my circumstances.  So that’s where the –theism part of the “Jungian polytheism” comes from.

That’s about as non-jargony and succinct as I can do at this point.  (I know, I have a way to go.  Wow, I really wanted to include some quotes from Jung.)

It’s obvious this is a very different understanding of the gods than many devotional polytheists have.  And I admit that when I talk to devotional polytheists, I am hearing them describe their relationships with the gods through my own paradigm.  I don’t understand the metaphysical nature of the gods in the same way as Conor, for example.  But I do respect and honor the relationship he has with his gods.  I respect and honor the rituals he uses to create and maintain those relationships.  And I respect and honor the good that those relationships bring into his life.  And I have no problem calling his gods “gods”, because that’s what they are to me as well.  The same goes for my Christian wife and her God.  I honor her experience and I can use her language.  Does it matter that we don’t mean exactly the same things by those words?  It would sadden me if my wife, or Conor, or any other theist found me impious or disrespectful because the words we use mean something different to me.  I think that while we are starting out in very different places, with different understandings about the nature of the gods, we do end up, if not in the exact same place, then at least in the same neighborhood — the place where we all honor the holiness of the encounter with the divine Other, however we conceive that.

In a future post, I hope to introduce you to my gods so you can see what I am talking about in practice.




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