Magic and Marriage

Part of this post initially appeared on the Agora blog, February 19, 2013.

I’ve chosen to spend my life devoted to a Christian.

When we first met, I made no bones about my faith or my values.  I led off on our very first date by saying, “I’m a feminist, I’m pro choice, and I’m a witch.”

He just smiled and said, “Okay.  Did you want to sit down?”

I spent the early days of our relationship constantly afraid that one day he’d get a lightning bolt to the head and suddenly the easy-going, open man I loved would become intolerant of my beliefs.  It was easy to feel defensive living in the very religious corner of Southwest Michigan sometimes called “the baby Bible belt”.  But he never fulfilled my fears, and gradually, I became comfortable about our different faiths.

I think the key to successful interfaith dialogue and cohabitation is respect.  I respect my husband’s beliefs, and he respects mine.  True, sometimes I love to drag him into a spirited historical discussion about our beliefs, but we manage to keep our conversations from hitting any hot buttons.  Despite our divergent faiths, we do find some common religious ground.  We may approach prayer differently, but we both acknowledge the importance of Spirit in our lives, and our individual relationships with the divine, although different, have strengthened our relationship with each other. We’ve joked when talking about how to raise our daughter faith-wise that we want her to have an understanding of Joseph Campbell and the golden rule: follow your bliss, and do unto others aren’t bad places to start a spiritual upbringing!

I think it helps a great deal that my husband’s faith is non-denominational, and can best be described as first century early church; he doesn’t espouse any particular doctrine or dogma, and there’s nothing about his beliefs that tells him he needs to work hard to convert the people around him, unlike some of the modern evangelical sects of Christianity.  Instead, he’s open to my own experience with the divine, and because of this, I have learned to view the Abrahamic faiths differently; loving a Christian has helped me to practice a more open-minded way of being, and I’m grateful to him for giving me that chance.

Despite my sweetie’s openness, I was initially cautious about being “too witchy” around him.  I am still in the habit of working spells in front of my private altar, alone in the bedroom, but now it’s less about hiding who I am and more about setting aside sacred space for my work.  I’m no longer shy about dragging my husband to my circle gatherings (he hangs out inside until it’s time to feast, and then he joins the party), and in recent months, I’ve even branched into including him in some of my less witchy rituals, like keeping a wish jar and burning the highs and lows of the past year on the Solstice.  It always surprises me how willing he is to go along with these things when I invite him, and I feel closer to him whenever we share in a small spell or ritual.

A few years ago, I took a big step: I broached the topic of having an official altar somewhere in the main living area of our home.  I couched it in terms of a prosperity shrine, something to cultivate joy and well-being in our relationship and shared lives.  It shouldn’t have surprised me when my husband quietly agreed, but it did.  I thought he would take more convincing, but my arguments weren’t needed.  He was in.

On a trip to the local magical supply store, I loaded up my basket with an oil burner carved with Ganesha’s image (sure to help us cultivate laughter), a few stones and candles, and a small bag that I planned to turn into a charm for the inhabitants of our home, including Delphi, our noble house cat.  My husband didn’t bat an eye when I showed him my purchases, and although I kept pestering him, worried that I had overstepped our unspoken religious boundaries, he assured me that he really was fine with the idea of a bliss shrine in our home.

Together, we hung a small shelf in the southwest corner of our dining room, and I started to bedeck it with little tokens of prosperity.   I’ve been creating informal altars around our home for years, but this little corner shelf is the first time I’ve done so consciously after discussing it with my husband.   Since it went up, the shrine has served to remind me of the abundance that is already in my life: the abundant love and respect my husband and I share that allows us to bridge the gap of our faiths to create sacred space together.

The shrine was accidentally knocked down early in my pregnancy, and that prompted some much-needed housekeeping. I re-consecrated the “family bag”, and my husband suggested that we add a small button that matched the color of our soon-to-arrive daughter’s room as her symbol in the shrine. I loved the idea, and when we had re-hung the shrine, it felt right, even though our daughter hadn’t yet arrived on her own. I hope she’ll add object to the family altar as she grows, but for now, I’ve added her birth announcement and a small cup from my belly blessing to Ganesha’s shelf, and it’s a visual, daily reminder that the abundant love and joy my husband work hard to cultivate is continuing to expand.