August 19, 2021

Heather Greene has a new piece up on Religion News Service that says Study: Gen Z doubles down on spirituality, combining tarot and traditional faith. It looks at a study by the Springtide Research Institute that says:

Younger Americans, known for fashioning their own spirituality the way they curate their social media feeds, are doing so using well-established alternative practices.

Here’s a longer quote:

“Our generation has already been distancing ourselves from a lot of institutions,” wrote Zaina Qureshi, a 16-year-old who identifies as both Muslim and spiritual. “The main three Abrahamic religions leave little to our own interpretation of Scripture.”

With tarot and other similar practices, Qureshi said, “we’re open to interpret what we want to think (for) ourselves and make our own guidelines when it comes to spirituality, which is why I think a lot of young people resonate with it.”

This shouldn’t come as a surprise to any student of religion. People have been practicing divination and other forms of magic within the context of established religions for as long as there have been established religions. How do we know? From all the rules against it. You don’t have to try to ban something that no one is doing. Unless you’re a politician trying to exploit your base’s conspiracy theories (see: voter fraud, late term abortion, etc.) but that’s another rant for another time.

The place of magic within religions that preach against it is an interesting topic. But as a Pagan, I’m more interested in the people who leave Christianity and Islam – and atheism – for our more magic-affirming traditions.

Our many varieties of Paganism and polytheism are not a social club, a political party, or a marketing agency. We don’t proselytize. At the same time, we want to see our values grow in the mainstream culture. More importantly, we want to be welcoming to those who are looking for what we have – even if they don’t know it yet. The Gods call who They call, but many times those calls are faint and difficult to follow.

How do we welcome those who expect to “make their own guidelines?” How do we balance the obligation to preserve our sacred traditions with the obligation to be hospitable to those who simply won’t tolerate being told what to believe or what to do?

Understand what is negotiable and what isn’t

Do you want to cast a circle at the start of a ritual? Great – I usually do. Think rituals are better without circles? That’s fine too. I’m a member of two Druid orders. OBOD casts circles – ADF doesn’t. I encourage you to think through your liturgy and to make conscious decisions about what to include, but at the end of the day circle casting is entirely optional as far as I’m concerned.

Want to have a public high day ritual and not honor one or more deities? I won’t be helping you lead that one. Honoring the Gods is at the core of my religion. We can talk about Who to honor and how best to honor Them, but including the Gods is a non-negotiable for me.

That doesn’t mean I won’t work with non-theistic Pagans where we have common cause. But I cannot take the Gods out of my religion to make anyone feel comfortable.

We don’t all have the same non-negotiables. Know what yours are, so you know where you can let things go in the name of being welcoming and inclusive, and where you need to draw a sharp, clear line.

Provide a robust foundation

This is perhaps the most important thing we can provide for seekers and spiritual explorers. Most of them aren’t looking for a place to do whatever they want – they don’t need a religion for that. They’re looking for a place – a group, a tradition, a culture – where they fit. Our job is to help them figure out if they fit in Paganism (or rather, a particular form of Paganism). If they do, great. If they don’t, then they’ve learned something, which is also great.

This is one of the reasons I wrote The Path of Paganism. It starts at the beginning, with what religion is and why it’s so much more than what our Protestant-dominated mainstream culture says it is. It covers the foundations of modern Paganism and the Four Centers of Nature, Gods, the Self, and Community. And it goes into depth on several forms of Pagan practice.

This isn’t meant to be a plug for my book. Honestly, if people are just getting started, I usually recommend Morgan Daimler’s Irish Paganism (even if you’re not Irish or interested in Ireland). It’s a better 101 book – The Path of Paganism is more of a 201 book.

If we give people a good foundation in what Paganism is and what it isn’t, they can do a better job of figuring out if they want to build on our foundation, or if they’d be better off somewhere else.

Promote the primacy of religious experience

A popular quote from Deepak Chopra says “Religion is belief in someone else’s experience. Spirituality is having your own experience.”

This is simply wrong. Don’t say “religion” when what you mean is Christianity.

Religion is the collective wisdom of those who came before us. In the case of Pagan religion, that includes wisdom around the best ways to have your own religious and spiritual experiences.

There is nothing like looking up at the stars and realizing the universe is so big and so old, and we are so small and so new, and yet here we are, contemplating it all. There’s nothing like standing in a circle (cast or not) and feeling the presence of the Gods and spirits. There’s nothing like the experience of a God merging part of Their essence with yours, giving you a taste of divinity that’s like being inside a fire hose.

These experiences are often described as ineffable. Not because it’s forbidden to speak of them, but because words are completely inadequate to describe them.

Other people’s experiences provide opportunities to compare and contrast with our own. Experiences of skilled practitioners provide road maps for us to follow.

But there is no substitute for having our own experiences. And for a generation that wants to see for themselves, the best thing we can offer are structures and guidelines to facilitate them.

Teach practices that facilitate religious experiences

There’s a fine line between teaching foundational material and letting people grow into deeper practices, and letting them jump in the deep end of the pool – or pushing them in – right away. Honestly, I tend to be too conservative here – I don’t want someone’s spiritual injury (or in some cases, physical injury) on my conscience.

But it’s better to have those who weren’t ready running away in terror than to have those who are ready walking away out of boredom.

Religious experiences happen in their own time – they cannot be commanded. But there are things we can do to put ourselves in places where they’re more likely to happen.

We can do the devotional work that builds the kind of relationships that are likely to express themselves in ecstatic experiences. We can put ourselves in wild places and liminal places. We can set appropriate expectations, and learn to appreciate subtle experiences as much as the more dramatic ones. We can teach Drawing Down the Moon and other forms of ecstatic communion.

We can teach the kind of magic that gets results.

Coming up with your own interpretation of a sacred text is one thing. Having your own sacred experience is quite another. Let’s teach seekers how to have them.

Teach discernment

If you’re doing to teach people how to have a religious experience, you also need to teach them how to interpret them. Raw experiences are amazing and powerful, but they are literally meaningless until we interpret them and decide what they mean.

If we aren’t mindful, we’ll end up interpreting our experiences in the context of popular fiction. That’s not likely to be a helpful approach.

Discernment takes knowledge, to have an idea of what something might have been. It takes analysis, to walk through the possibilities and eliminate those that are impossible, or highly unlikely. And finally, it takes a decision to operate as though our best guess is completely true, even as we remain open to new experiences and new interpretations.

Provide opportunities for exploration and practice

As I write this the United States and much of the world are in the middle of the Delta variant surge. Just as we were starting to gather in person again, we need to be taking greater precautions against spreading Covid. But the pandemic won’t last forever, and even if it does we’ll find ways to practice together.

Our public rituals tend to be rites of worship and celebration. That’s good and appropriate. But we need to provide opportunities for those who want deeper experiences to have them. The best way to do that is in the company of folks who’ve done these things before – it’s the safest way, too.

If it works, people will stick around

We practice our Pagan and polytheist religions because they’re meaningful and helpful to us, not because they’re popular – or because we want them to be popular.

But most people – particularly the younger generation of seekers and spiritual explorers – bring a rather utilitarian approach to religion and spirituality. If it works, they’ll keep doing it. If it doesn’t, they’ll move on to something else.

Sometimes what works for one won’t work for another. Sometimes the requirements are too much and people leave because it’s too hard. But also, sometimes the requirements are too little, and people leave because they don’t get anything out of it.

None of us are as unique as we like to think we are. If a religious and spiritual approach works for us, it’s likely to work for others.

We just have to present it to them in such a way that they’ll give it a try.

July 18, 2021

You may have seen the meme going around social media that says “progress is not linear.” It shows a figure moving along a mountainous terrain: lots of ups and downs before a final climb to the top. I like the meme even though I find it somewhat simplistic. It makes the very important point that we shouldn’t stop working just because it doesn’t feel like we’re making progress.

But while the main point of the meme is true and helpful, the path it shows doesn’t ring true for me. Yes, I’ve had ups and downs like everyone else. Yes, consistent effort over time has produced good results. But I’ve had more pain from spiritual plateaus than I ever had from ups and downs.

Plateaus start by reaching a new level. Whether you’re talking about magic, devotion, mundane skills, or anything else, you’ve accomplished something – and it feels good. It takes a while to get used to it, but eventually you do. You continue your practice, working on your projects, and working toward your goals. All is well.

And then one day you realize you’ve been doing the same things in the same way for quite some time. You realize it’s been a while since you “leveled up” but you’re not close to reaching the next level. You’re not even sure you know what the next level is.

It’s not new and exciting anymore. It’s not even satisfying. In fact, it’s starting to get frustrating.

You’re on a spiritual plateau.

This isn’t being overwhelmed with the ordinary world, though that certainly can be a problem. And it’s not stale devotion. I wrote about that back in January. This is something deeper and longer-lasting. Your joy is gone. You’re dissatisfied with where you are, you know you want something more or at least, something different. But you don’t know what that is.

This has happened to me several times. The worst was about ten years ago. My practice felt like mindless repetition. I had started a blog that very few people read. I had completed the OBOD training program and didn’t know where to go next. Nothing was “wrong” but nothing was satisfying either. I was keeping up with my devotions, but not much more.

I needed help to get off that plateau.

Here are five things you can do to get yourself off a spiritual plateau and moving forward again.

Go on a retreat

There’s nothing like a change of environment to change your thinking patterns. A few years ago I studied briefly with a Buddhist teacher (I was trying to learn meditation techniques) who recommended weekend retreats every three months and week-long retreats once a year. I enjoy our hotel-based Pagan conferences and conventions, but there’s nothing like the retreats into the woods to help you focus on being Pagan 24/7 for a while.

Organized retreats can be hard to find, and the ones that exist are usually tradition-specific. You can do your own retreat: go rent a camp site or a cabin for a few days. Plan some structured activities, especially devotion and worship. Schedule some time for meditation and contemplation. And leave some time completely unscheduled – just don’t spend it looking at your phone.

Most of us have obligations around work and family that make getting away challenging. Cost can be a problem. But if you’re stuck on a spiritual plateau, a few days away from your routine and focusing solely on your religious and spiritual life can be very helpful.

2015 OBOD East Coast Gathering

Hire a spiritual director

When I was stuck on my worst plateau, nothing seemed to work. So I contacted Thorn Coyle, who I knew did spiritual direction (that was 10 years ago – I don’t know if they still do this work or not). Thorn said their work was “holding a mirror up so people could see themselves.” It wasn’t therapy – it was a combination of listening, recommending spiritual practices, and facilitating accountability.

I’ve talked with people who’ve engaged spiritual directors in other religious traditions – they’ve done much the same thing. Sometimes you need someone who can help you see what you’re missing, and someone who will insist that you do what you say you want to do.

Perhaps there’s an elder in your tradition who could fill this role for you. Or perhaps a local leader in an adjacent tradition – sometimes a different spiritual perspective can be helpful (so long as it’s not antagonistically different). I do this work, but I don’t do it often, and I don’t do it for free – consider me an option of last resort.

As with retreats, there are costs involved that will be prohibitive for some. But if you can afford a spiritual director, they can be very helpful.

Begin a structured training program

Spiritual plateaus usually manifest in one of two ways. Either you don’t know what to do, or you know what to do but you don’t know how to do it. A structured training program can help with both.

I’m an OBOD Druid – I completed their three-tiered program of Bard, Ovate, and Druid. It’s arguably the best spiritual training program in any Pagan tradition. It’s not cheap and it’s not quick – it’s nominally a three-year program, but virtually no one finishes that quickly (it took me 5½ years). And it’s more “spiritual technology” than devotion or magic. But what it does, it does well.

I’m a member of ADF, but I have not done their Dedicant Program. Those who have tell me it’s a very good introduction to modern polytheist Paganism. ADF’s other programs are also good.

Other traditions have their own programs – most of them are helpful in their own way. Just beware of chasing certificates. Our mainstream society places an extraordinary value on degrees and certifications – that often carries over into our religious world. While I’m a strong supporter of education, degrees for the sake of degrees accomplishes little.

Still, if you’re stuck on a spiritual plateau, the structure provided by a training program may be what you need to get you off of it.

Do a transformative working

Maybe you don’t have the time or money for any of the above. Or maybe you tried it and it didn’t work. Completing the OBOD program and attending two Druid retreats showed me I was on a plateau, but they didn’t get me off of it. Or maybe your need is less in this world and more in the world of spirit.

Then perhaps what you need is a transformative working.

If you’re part of a tradition that performs initiations, see what is required. If you meet the requirements, or if you’re close, ask for it. Remember that initiation does not begin when the ceremony starts. Initiation begins when you start asking about it and doing research about. Say “I want in” and you will be heard, though by whom is never certain.

Self-initiation is difficult but possible. This post from last year explores what it can and can’t do in more detail.

I had considerable success performing the Headless Rite. Some people use it as a regular rite of cleansing, like the LBRP. I did it as a one-time thing, although I did a lot of rehearsal that may have had a cumulative effect. I have no good single reference for this. Google it, read all the top sources, and come up with a revision that works for you.

There are other options for transformative workings – the process of finding and/or creating the right one can be as helpful as actually doing the working. Find what works for you.

Become a monk (for a while)

We usually think of monks in either a Christian or a Buddhist context. But several of the ancient Pagan traditions included priests and priestesses who served as dedicated religious practitioners, either on a short-term or long-term basis. They dedicated themselves to serving their Gods above all else.

You need not find a cloistered monastery to adopt a monastic way of life, at least for a short time. All you need to do is accelerate and amplify your regular spiritual practice.

Set aside regular times for prayer every day. No matter how busy you are, you can find two or three minutes to step outside, ground and center, and pray some combination of scripted and extemporaneous prayer.

Make offerings every day. Set aside a time to approach your altar, say the necessary prayers, and offer food and/or drink to your Gods.

Do a full rite of worship at least once a week – something that takes 30 to 60 minutes. If you can do it more frequently, great. Just make sure you keep a regular schedule – consistency matters.

You don’t have to announce your monasticism to the world – and as far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t. But you may want to make a subtle change in your wardrobe, jewelry, or hairstyle – something reminds you that you’ve taken on religious obligations.

Do not expect quick results from monastic practice. Its benefits come slowly and gradually, as the practices stop being something you do and start being something you are. But when you do them faithfully, eventually you will find yourself looking back and saying “wow – I guess I have come a long way since I started.”

Progress of any sort is not linear. Life isn’t linear. There will always be ups and downs, and there will be plateaus – those times when we feel stuck in our spirituality. Recognizing that you’re on a plateau is a good thing – it’s the first step in getting yourself off of it.

Blessings to you as you navigate the ups and downs – and the flat spots – of your spiritual journey.

June 27, 2021

What do you do when you find yourself in a spiritual situation you can’t handle?

Maybe something – or someone – has moved into your house and is making a nuisance of themselves. Maybe you have a serious need and your magic hasn’t been able to produce the necessary results. Or maybe a God won’t take no for an answer and you really don’t want to say yes.

Unless you’re incredibly stubborn, you ask for help. There are many sources, including some on this blog.

But sometimes you need more than knowledge.

You need skills it takes years to develop. You need an advocate or a personal introduction. Or you need more magical muscle power than any one person can generate. Remember the exorcism scene from Practical Magic (1998)? Aunt Frances and Aunt Jet were powerful witches, but they knew they needed a coven for this. Even untrained people would do – they just needed more raw power.

Practical Magic is Hollywood fiction, but there’s truth embedded in this scene. Some things simply can’t be done alone.

When it comes to spiritual conflicts, many of us like to think we’re The Bride from Kill Bill (2003), taking on the Crazy 88 in the Showdown at House of Blue Leaves and mowing them all down. Yes, that scene was an homage to Bruce Lee, but not even he could survive an attack of that magnitude.

Sometimes we need help. Not advice, not instruction, not even wisdom. We need someone – or many someones – to stand behind us, or beside us, or occasionally in front of us.

And many Pagans are solitary practitioners, alone in an environment that is indifferent to our success or failure, sharing both ordinary and spirit worlds with persons who see us as a resource to be exploited for their own purposes.

So what do we do?

A lack of connection and collaboration

The prevalence of solitary practitioners began largely as a matter of numbers. More people wanted training and initiation in Wicca, witchcraft, and related traditions than could be handled by existing teachers. I began my Pagan journey in the 1990s in the days when Barnes & Noble was everyone’s first teacher.

As it turns out, a lot of people like being solitary. They had a bad experience in another religion. They want to practice on their own timetable. They want to do exactly what they want to do the way they want to do it.

That’s not wrong. And it’s not just Pagans who are moving in that direction. Christian churches are hemorrhaging members. Most of those leaving aren’t becoming atheists. They’re joining (if “joining” can be used in this context) the Spiritual But Not Religious movement, which its conservative detractors call “moral therapeutic deism.”

The key (at least for our purposes here) is that they’re solitary. And they’re setting an example in the wider culture that a religious community is unnecessary – an example many Pagans and witches are happy to follow.

I had hoped for groups and networks

I believe in religious community. Good religion is what binds us together, not with shared beliefs but with shared values, shared practices, and mutual support. I’ve been preaching the value of Pagan groups for as long as I’ve been blogging (that’s 13 years, in case you weren’t aware).

My vision was that we would begin forming strong local groups around the country and around the world. Those groups would network regionally by geography and world-wide by tradition. This would allow us to serve more seekers, build infrastructure, and be available to support each other both spiritually and physically.

That isn’t happening.

Oh, some local groups are very successful. There are a few networks, like Covenant of the Goddess and ADF. But they’re the exception, not the rule.

We aren’t building groups and networks because most of us don’t want groups and networks. Or we only want them if they’ll be exactly what we want them to be. That’s not how groups work.

The question of solitary practice vs. group practice mostly comes down to personal preference. You can perform devotion, study philosophy and theology, work magic, and do other religious and spiritual work on your own just fine, even if you could take them farther with group practice.

But sometimes you need more than what any one person can do.

The spirit world doesn’t care about personal autonomy

First the Protestants told us that religion was a matter of individual belief (and that they had the One True Way, but that’s not what’s important here). Then our wider society began to celebrate cultural rebels and told us to “do your own thing.” And let’s not forget the American idea of the “rugged individualist” (which is a toxic idea, but that’s another rant for another time).

The spirit world doesn’t care about personal autonomy.

Read the grimoires: the goal is basically to claim the authority of a God or holy person and use that authority to command lesser spirits to do your bidding. Listen to contemporary practitioners talk about being claimed, about “horse trading” among the Gods, and about asking one deity to intervene in a situation with another deity.

There are corners of the spirit world where you will be seen as a traveler to be shown hospitality, and there are other corners where you will be seen as an interloper to be constrained… or exploited… or eliminated.

Like the ordinary world, the spirit world isn’t all about us. There are sharks and grizzly bears in this world, and there are similar persons in the spirit world.

Do I bring this up too often? I don’t think that’s possible, especially in our naïve and human-centric contemporary culture.

Sometimes you need a safe conduct pass. Sometimes you need a skilled negotiator who’s familiar with the ways of a particular group of spiritual persons.

And sometimes you need a small army standing with you, making it clear that you aren’t easy prey.

Cultivating spiritual allies

Some of this can be done on our own. As most polytheists emphasize, our ancestors are our most accessible allies. Set up an ancestor shrine, make regular offerings, call their names and celebrate their lives – stuff we should all be doing anyway. They’ll be there when you need them.

To the extent that they can. A quote I’ve heard from several sources says “just because they’re dead doesn’t mean they’re smart.” And considering that for those of us of European descent, our ancestors have been Christians for the past 50 generations or so, they may be disinclined to support our Pagan and heretical endeavors.

Cultivating relationships with Gods is the core of my own polytheist religion. I have on occasion asked Cernunnos or the Morrigan to intercede for me when other deities wanted my services. So far so good. But our priorities are not Their priorities. If I get myself into a jam doing something that isn’t in their service, They may not be in any hurry to bail me out.

We can also form and maintain alliances with other-than-divine persons. These can be useful, in this world and in the Otherworld. But bargain carefully, particularly when you’re dealing with the Fair Folk.

How can solitary practitioners find human allies?

But even with all this, there are times when you need 13 witches to cast an ambitious spell. There are times when you need someone (in this world) you can talk to (verbally, in your language) and have them intercede on your behalf. And there are times when you need an established group to put you under their protection and say “this one is ours and you won’t be taking them.”

You may never need any of this. If your work is limited to worshipping the Gods and celebrating the seasons, these situations may never arise.

But the more you journey into the Otherworld, the more you interact with spiritual persons, and the more you work “big” magic, the more likely you are to need spiritual backup.

It would be easy for me to scream “see, this is why you need to be forming covens and groves!” or “find a group before you need a group!” or something like that. But if people haven’t done that already, this isn’t going to convince them, particularly the first time things get difficult in a group – which they always do, because we’re human and humans are messy.

Networks of support

This mostly hasn’t been a problem for me. I’m part of a good, strong local group. I’m friends with a lot of experienced Pagans, polytheists, witches, and others – there are people I can call on when I need help.

What can we do – what can you do – to have resources available when you need them?

How do we form loose networks of (mostly) like-minded practitioners? Most of us are willing to help our friends. We’re less willing to help people we don’t know, if only because we don’t know if they’re having a spiritual emergency or if they need mental health care. I don’t have to know you practice just like I do in order to help you. I just have to know you well enough to trust you.

How do we build a common vocabulary, so we have a consistent idea of what a given situation entails?

How do we develop common practices, so when we need to join together from all over the world we’re all doing the same things?

How do we build spiritual connections that can be activated from where ever we are? There are established ways to do this if everyone is part of the same group, but that puts us back to that “joining a group” thing. I can connect to you and you can connect to your friend in Switzerland, but can the three of us join together for a one-time working even if I don’t know your friend? Can we form a “witch chain” of 13 people? Or more?

What else can we do?

Beginning a conversation

I imagine for some of you, talk of networking and common vocabulary and witch chains sounds too much like joining a group. Too much chance somebody’s going to “tell you what to do” or suggest you should be accountable, even if it’s just to your own word. So be it. If you want to be an absolutely solitary practitioner, that’s absolutely your right and I wish you well with it.

But for the rest of us, particularly those who would like to be part of a group but who can’t due to differing traditions or geography or extreme introversion, there may be a way to find the spiritual support you need when you need it most.

I have no concrete proposals. I’m not volunteering to set up a phone tree like in Practical Magic. But I’m thinking about these things.

And I imagine some of you are too.

February 21, 2021

One of the homework assignments in the Navigating Tower Time class was to “tell your own story of weirdness.” Most of us have one: a prophetic dream, the overwhelming presence of a God, an occurrence that defies “rational” explanation. We rarely talk about them, because we’re afraid of other people’s reactions: they’ll think we’re crazy, or delusional, or flat out lying about it.

I encourage everyone – but especially participants in this class – to tell their stories. Telling a story keeps it alive. It reminds us that yes, that really did happen, no matter what the skeptics say. But more than that, hearing other people’s stories reminds us that we’re not alone. These things happen to most people. Not all, but most.

The responses I got from the participants were amazing. The individual stories are not mine to share, but I am betraying no confidences by telling you I read about encounters with ghosts, ancestors, and Gods; about synchronicities that are so unlikely they’re impossible to dismiss; and about magical workings that manifested amazing results.

But I also got some more tentative responses. “I’m not sure this is what you’re talking about.” “I’m not sure this counts.” “I’ve never really had any weird experiences”… which would be fine – most of us have these stories, but not everyone. Except that statement was followed by descriptions of some very spiritual, very non-ordinary experiences.

I was intentionally vague with my instructions – I didn’t want to restrict people to talking only about certain kinds of experiences. In retrospect, my instructions may have been too vague. And perhaps, calling it “weirdness” contributed to unrealistic expectations.

But I think there’s more to it than that.

When we talk about spiritual experiences, religious experiences, magical experiences – anything that falls into that general category – most of us don’t know what to expect.

It’s easy to say “well, everybody’s experiences are different.” Except they’re not. The details are of course unique to one person (or sometimes, to one group) and to one time, but spiritual experiences usually have common structures and elements. That’s one of the ways we can spot people who aren’t telling the truth. The problem is that most of us don’t know what those common structures and elements are, so we don’t know what to expect.

And our mainstream society has set some very unhelpful expectations.

It’s hard to communicate this in writing. My editor had to push me to include a section on ecstatic practice in Paganism In Depth. I learned this by doing it, with others who were there to help me along, affirm my experiences, tell me what they saw and heard, and help me figure out what the whole thing meant.

But if something mystical happens and you’re by yourself, it’s just as real as if it happens in a circle with your coven or grove.

Setting expectations

So I want to talk about setting expectations for our spiritual experiences.

For the purposes of this post, whether I call it a spiritual experience, a religious experience, a magical experience, or a mystical experience, I’m talking about the same thing: something happens that defies ordinary explanation and has a meaningful impact on our lives. There are differences between, say, magic and religion, but there’s enough overlap in the way these experiences happen that we can group them together when talking about setting expectations.

Pop culture sets unrealistic expectations

Let’s start here. TV, movies, fiction, video games – they all present spiritual experiences in a way that simply doesn’t happen.

Now, I like magical fiction, even though I know it’s not real. I occasionally find it inspiring. But if you’re a beginner it may be the only reference point you have. Some of us grew up in a religion that, although very different, still affirmed the direct experience of the Divine. Unfortunately, those traditions tend to be politically conservative and religiously repressive. So we look elsewhere for our examples, and fiction is the only other option many of us have.

All we can do is to be aware of this, and when our minds start to go in that direction, remind ourselves that this is fiction. Reality is far less dramatic… and occasionally, far more meaningful.

Skeptics make it worse

If you come to the conclusion that there is only the material world and that Gods and spirits don’t exist, so be it. I’ll be happy to work with you to make this world a better place. You’re not the problem here.

The problem is the aggressive atheists and materialists who insist that not only are there no Gods, spirits, magic, or anything of the sort, those persons and things couldn’t possibly exist and anyone who thinks otherwise is delusional.

Even when we reject this line of thinking, we’re still left with the idea that in order for something to be real, we have to have “proof.” And only certain kinds of proof are acceptable – the kinds that affirm there is only matter and the interactions of matter, and nothing else is possible.

And so we start to rationalize our experiences away. We look for “reasonable” explanations, even when the most reasonable explanation is that we just encountered a spirit. We tell ourselves it didn’t happen, it’s all in our heads – anything to avoid coming to conclusion that we live in a magical world.

The need to establish good foundational assumptions

We will only see what our foundational assumptions tell us is possible. These are the ideas about how the world works that most of us don’t even realize are assumptions. They’re just “the way things are,” “common sense,” or “what everybody knows.”

Last year I led a 7-week course on Building a New Myth, subtitled “Scientific, Animist, and Polytheist Foundations For the Future.” It’s my least popular class, but in many ways I think it’s the most important, because helps people learn that just because we affirm the findings of science we don’t ignore our experiences that fall outside the boundaries of the scientific method.

Many of us have unhelpful expectations for our spiritual experiences because we assume that if it can’t be explained by contemporary science then it can’t be real. This expectation is itself unrealistic and decidedly unhelpful.

Big spiritual experiences are infrequent

In the Tower Time homework, I heard stories from people’s childhoods. I heard stories that took place decades ago, or years ago. I heard a couple stories that happened a few days ago, but they were a distinct minority.

People where telling “old” stories because they were important enough that they remembered them after so many years, but also because nothing “bigger” had happened since. Big, dramatic, life-changing spiritual experiences don’t happen often.

If we expect them to come on a regular basis – or worse, whenever we want them – we will be disappointed.

Most spiritual experiences are subtle

For all of my work with and for the Morrigan, I’ve never experienced Her standing bodily in front of me. I doubt I ever will. Her presence – and the presence of the other Gods – is far more subtle.

It’s not an audible voice (most of the time, anyway) – it’s a voice in your head, except it’s not in your head. It’s not something you see with your physical eyes – it’s something you see with your inner eyes. Sometimes you can feel it on your skin, but when you try to grasp it with your fingers it slips through them.

The vast majority of spiritual experiences are subtle. That means they’re easy to miss if you’re not paying attention, and easy to dismiss if you’re looking for something out of an urban fantasy novel.

This is why meditation is such an important spiritual practice. It trains us to recognize subtle spiritual signals.

For a few people, it’s not subtle

For some people, encounters with the Gods are a frequent thing. In some cases, they’re a continuous “I can’t shut it off” thing.

These people exist in every religion. They’re the mystics and the shamans (the real shamans, not people who took a class from Michael Harner). They have complicated, difficult lives. They are often celebrated for the wisdom and inspiration they communicate, and then ignored or attacked when they communicate something inconvenient.

You probably don’t want to be one of these people. If you think you do, be careful what you wish for.

In any case, they are real but rare, and their experiences are not normative for the rest of us.

Focus on the message, not the medium

I believe the Gods are real. I believe They are individual persons, who if not omnipotent are powerful enough to do pretty much whatever They want. If They wanted to appear bodily amongst us They could choose to do so.

That They do not tells us something important.

I think that “something important” is that They want us to focus on the message and not the medium.

If the Morrigan tells me to get ready to clean up after a massive spiritual disruption, what’s most important is that I get ready. Whether I hear that from Her face to face, from that familiar voice behind my head, or from reading an omen in Nature is a secondary concern.

The proof is in the living

At the end of the day, this is all the proof I need. My life is significantly better since I started following this religious and spiritual path. It’s not perfect, but it’s tangibly better. And more importantly, it’s more meaningful. I’ve found my place – it’s with my Gods, my ancestors, and my community.

I’m thankful for the stories of otherworldly experiences shared by participants in the Tower Time class and by others. When we tell our stories we give other people context for their own experiences, and that’s a very good thing. And that helps us set realistic expectations for what we see and hear and do in our own spiritual lives.

December 15, 2020

Ever since the election I’ve felt the need to get back to basics, in my practice and in my blogging.

We need the basics to build a foundation for living virtuously and for exploring life in greater depth. It’s easy to think about the basics as boxes to be checked – we learn them and then we move on to something deeper and more important.

But just like physical foundations, our spiritual foundations need regular maintenance and reinforcement. Over the past month I’ve written five posts on the foundations of Paganism as I understand and practice it.

We Are All Part of Nature

The Primacy of Spiritual Experiences

Paganism as a Religion of Relationships

Building an Orthopraxic Religion

The Role of Belief in an Orthopraxic Religion

Today I want to review the matter of the Gods. What do we know about Them, and how should we respond to Them?

1. We know there are Gods because we experience Them

This is where we begin. Not with a book, although the stories of our ancestors tell us something about how they experienced the Gods. And not with intellectual abstractions, although we can use logic and reason to learn some things about the Gods.

We know there are Gods because we experience Them. Sometimes these are subtle experiences. Other times they are loud and powerful. We can and should debate what these experiences mean, but for many people throughout the history of humanity, the best interpretation is that we have experienced the presence of a God.

2. Gods are spirits

We’re human, we classify things – it’s what we do. It’s an evolutionary adaptation that makes it possible for us to process massive sensory inputs quickly and efficiently, so we can stay alive long enough to pass our genes down to the next generation. Our classifications are often arbitrary and sometimes inaccurate, but over thousands of years some of them have proven to be consistently useful.

Trying to classify the Gods borders on impossible, but it’s what we do. And we can start here.

Some of the stories of our ancestors tell of Gods walking bodily among humans. Occasionally I hear someone talk about seeing a person they’re sure was a God. It is reasonable to believe that Gods occasionally take bodily form. But the vast majority of our contemporary experiences of Gods are of non-tangible persons – spirits.

3. Gods are persons

And that brings us to the next observation, that spirits are persons. And as such, they are individuals of inherent dignity and worth.

Some people say that all persons have spirits. I prefer to say that all spirits are persons – some persons have bodies and some don’t. You and I are persons. Your cat is a person. The tree in your back yard is a person. So are rivers and mountains. So are our ancestors.

All living beings are persons, and that includes the Gods.

4. Gods are the most of all persons

Our intuitive classifications lead us to put everyone in neat little boxes, but as useful as that practice is, it’s often inaccurate. What differentiates a God from an ancestor, the spirit of a place, or some other spiritual person?

I’ve heard it said (from Ian Corrigan, if I’m remembering correctly) that “Gods are the mightiest of spirits.” I got some resistance to that, because some people think it implies that might makes right. So instead, I’ve started saying that whatever other persons may be, Gods are the most. They are the oldest, the strongest, the wisest, the most virtuous – the most.

They are individuals – not every God is all of these things. A deified ancestor is not as old and likely isn’t as powerful as, say, Zeus.

I don’t know how to draw the line between “God” and “not-God” and I don’t think trying to draw it is particularly useful. Arguing about who is the “most of the most” is best left to teenage boys discussing comic book heroes.

But if spirits exist on a spectrum, Gods are the ones clustered at the far end.

5. Gods have areas of interest

We intuitively understand that the God of the Sun and the Goddess of the Moon have different areas of interest. The Gods of one people are more likely to be concerned with them than with people on the other side of the world (unless they choose to be concerned – the Gods call who They call). Different deities have different areas of interest, and perhaps, different responsibilities.

What this means is that while we can speak of “the Gods” as a cluster of beings and discuss what it means for a person to be a God, we cannot speak of “the will of the Gods” or “the mission of the Gods” with any meaning. They are individuals who sometimes work together, but each has Their own priorities.

Some Pagan and polytheist traditions teach that all the Gods are always in agreement. After reading the stories of our ancestors and the conflicts between various deities that they describe, I think that’s unlikely.

6. But we approach the Gods best through relationships, not through functions

Many people have said this before, but I’ll say it again: the Gods are not vending machines.

If you have a need, it is good and right to pray that your Gods will help you get it. But the emphasis here is your Gods – the Gods who you honor and serve on a regular basis.

Early on in my Pagan journey I called on a deity (who will remain nameless) because my need matched Their mythological function. I clearly heard “who are you and why should I give you anything?” I had no answer.

Just as you are more likely to go out of your way to help a relative or a neighbor (that you know and like) than a random stranger, so are the Gods more likely to assist someone who speaks to Them and listens for Them on a regular basis.

7. Our worship proclaims that the Gods are worthy

I wrote about this back in June. Worship is not about telling an insecure deity how they are everything and you are nothing. Worship is about proclaiming that the Gods are worthy. Our worship draws us closer to the Gods, it advances the Gods and makes Them more visible in the mainstream world, and mainly, it proclaims that Their virtues and values are how we should live.

Our society could use more divine virtues, both individually and collectively.

8. Worship is the beginning, not the end

The Gods have Their own interests and Their own areas of responsibilities – They have Their own lives.

So do we.

We do not exist to worship the Gods. We worship the Gods because it is good and right and helpful, because when we worship Them, we take on some of Their virtues. We become a little more God-like ourselves.

Now, what do we do with that?

We start by taking care of ourselves, our families, and our neighbors. We build respectful, reciprocal relationships with other persons, both human persons and other-than-human persons. We build a better world – a world that better reflects the virtues of the Gods.

We do this knowing that our efforts will be imperfect and that our lives are short. But we can build on the foundation left by our ancestors, and we can hand our work off to our descendants when we can no longer continue it.

When we do, over time our world becomes more God-like. And that’s a very good thing.

9. Many Gods, many people, many ways

These are my ideas about the Gods and how we relate to Them. I’ve written on this topic many times over the years.

Other people have other ideas. They worship and work with different Gods, they experience those Gods in different ways, and their Gods ask (or sometimes, demand) different things from them.

It has been so ever since humans first began spreading out across the world.

As curious as I am about the nature of Gods in general, I am far more interested in relating to the small handful of Gods who have made Themselves known to me. If other people have other experiences and other interpretations, that’s between them and Their Gods. All that concerns me is whether they treat others with dignity and respect, and that they conduct themselves in an honorable manner.

There are many different Gods. They call many different people to worship and work with Them in many different ways.

Listen for the God or Gods who call to you.

Pursue the God or Gods who appeal to you.

And support other Pagans and polytheists as they do the same.

December 6, 2020

Last week an article came across my social media feeds titled: Study links some forms of spiritual training to narcissism and “spiritual superiority”.

The article in Psych News Daily is based on a paper from Roos Vonk and Anouk Visser at Radboud University Nijmegen in The Netherlands. It’s not behind a paywall, so you can read the whole thing if you like.

Here’s an excerpt from the abstract:

Spiritual training is assumed to reduce self-enhancement, but may have the paradoxical effect of boosting superiority feelings … Our results illustrate that the self-enhancement motive is powerful and deeply ingrained so that it can hijack methods intended to transcend the ego and, instead, adopt them to its own service.

And a line from the conclusion that will surprise exactly no one:

The phenomenon of spiritual superiority is widely recognized, both by authors who have written about it and by lay people who have felt the condescension of spiritually ‘enlightened’ others.

If you’ve been around Paganism, witchcraft, or any form of alternative spirituality for any length of time, you’ve seen this first-hand. It can lead to spiritual bypassing, toxic positivity, and carried to extremes, to abusive and cultish behavior on the part of “spiritual” leaders.

The study shows that some forms of spiritual training are more likely to lead to narcissism than others. And while that finding makes sense, in my experience the type of training and practice is less relevant than the depth and seriousness with which it’s approached (to which a cynic might respond that some forms of spirituality are inherently deeper than others, but that would be judgmental…).

I’m glad that these mental health professionals have done the work to study this phenomenon. But as someone who participates in spiritual training – both as a teacher and as a student – I’m more interested in how we can avoid it.

It’s not wrong to want to be more spiritual

We need to start here. It’s not wrong to want to be more spiritual than the average person.

Some people have the idea that we should all just want to be the same. I say we should all be as much as we can be… and as much as we want to be. I love watching professional athletes do things I can never do. I love seeing artwork made by people with vision and skills I simply don’t have. I’m a pretty good ritual leader, but I enjoy participating in rituals led by people whose composition and facilitation skills are far above mine. They don’t intimidate me – they inspire me.

It’s not wrong to want to increase your spiritual or magical skills. Desire is a good thing. It’s the first step toward doing something that will make your life better, and possibly make the world better.

Desire can get out of hand, particularly if we respond without regard for the bigger picture, or without regard for ethics. But wanting to be more spiritual – however you define it – is a good thing.

The challenge comes with what it takes to get there. There are many ways to approach spirituality. There are only two ways to do it right.

Diligent and consistent practice

This is the route most of us have to take.

You start where you are, because you can’t start anywhere else. Pray. Meditate. Make offerings. Spend time outdoors. Read and study whatever magical or spiritual techniques that interest you and then start practicing them.

There’s a chapter on spiritual practice in The Path of Paganism and another chapter in Paganism in Depth. I’ve blogged on spiritual practice numerous times over the years. If you’re looking to get started, there’s plenty here to point you in the right direction.

But then you have to do the work.

Some things you do every day. Others every week, every month, or every season.

How quickly you progress depends on your level of commitment, your aptitude for the work, and on the quality of your instruction – regardless of whether you learn from books, online sources, in-person teaching, or any other method. If what you practice is ineffective or just plain wrong, you’re not going to grow.

Formal training helps. The OBOD course was very helpful to me as I was getting serious about my Pagan practice. I teach classes, both at Pagan gatherings and online. But no weekend class or 6-week class is going to make you a master of anything.

A God or other spirit claims you

This is the quick way. It’s not the easy way.

I wrote about this last year in a post titled Sometimes The Gods Take What They Want and Sometimes What They Want Is You. While most of us have a choice as to which deity we will worship – if any – some people don’t. Some people are claimed, a few of them violently.

I don’t know why. I just know it happens in a small percentage of cases.

These people have instant spiritual depth. There’s nothing like having a God pick you up and throw you across the room (I know one case where that happened literally) to make the world of spirit absolutely real to you.

They don’t get instant magical and spiritual skills. Most times they have to work to develop them the same as everyone else. They just never get a break from school.

Issues of cultural appropriation aside, this is why most people who call themselves shamans aren’t shamans. Taking a Michael Harner course doesn’t make you a shaman. If you journey into the Otherworld, you’re a hedgewitch. If you work with spirits, you’re a sorcerer. The definition of a shaman isn’t just “someone who does shaman stuff” but also someone who’s been claimed by the spirits. Without that claiming, you cannot be a shaman.

With that claiming, you’re set for a life that’s hard, painful, and likely, short.

Do not wish for this. But it is one way to gain authentic spiritual depth.

A humbling experience

It’s good to want more spiritual depth, knowledge, and skills than the average person. But when you start to get it, there’s a bit of Dunning–Kruger effect. People with a little knowledge overestimate their abilities.

The more you learn, the more you realize just how much you don’t know.

Experiencing the first-hand presence of a God is an amazing thing. But after it’s over, you realize that what you experienced wasn’t you, it was Them. You realize that while your skills and abilities may be above average, the Gods are more than you by orders of magnitude.

When I hear people bragging about their magical power, their spiritual depth, or telling everyone they’re “a natural witch” I assume they’re still on that initial Dunning-Kruger peak. The people who I know have some spiritual depth to them – the people I go to when I run into things I need help with – are all rather quiet and modest… and not just because they’re introverts.

They know that however “big” they may be, there are persons out there who are massively bigger.

A lot of work

I teach a class on Operative Magic – the kind of magic you use to get stuff done. There’s nothing wrong with using magic to make your life better. In a year like 2020, we need all the help we can get.

But when you start working with Gods and spirits, when you start exploring the edges of the map of reality, your life doesn’t get easier. It gets a lot busier. There’s a reason why people with oathed relationships to deities often say they were “called into Their service.”

The spiritual side of all this is a lot of work. The mundane side of it is even more work.

It’s meaningful and fulfilling work – I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But that doesn’t make it any easier, or any less time-consuming.

My first thought on reading this study was “yes, of course that’s true.” My second thought was that some people are going to hear this and think “maybe I shouldn’t pursue spiritual training.” But the people who are having second thoughts are the ones who are less likely to fall into this trap. It’s the ones who are thinking “I can handle it” (when they don’t even know what “it” is yet) that I’m concerned about.

Be mindful: know what you’re getting into. Be prepared to put in the work for as long as it takes. Understand that the work never ends.

Do it right and it can be incredibly rewarding.

November 22, 2020

19 years ago this Friday, I had a spiritual epiphany.

But before I tell that tale, I need to go back a little farther.

February 1993 marked the beginning of my Pagan journey. I went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras with some friends I met online. That was a life changing trip for many reasons, most notably because I met a Wiccan for the first time. They explained that their religion was about seeing the Divine in Nature and about worshipping a Goddess as well as a God. It included magic and witchcraft.

This was what I had been looking for all my life.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t ready for a drastic change of religion. I still had a lot of foundational work to do. I needed to finish exorcising fundamentalism from my soul, and I hadn’t figured out how to do it. And so I spent eight years dabbling in witchcraft, Wicca, and Paganism.

I got nowhere.

Thanksgiving Night 2001

I moved to Texas at the end of October to start a new job. My wife stayed back in Georgia waiting on the house to sell – I flew home for Thanksgiving, which we celebrated with my family in Chattanooga.

We were staying at my mother’s house – the house I grew up in. After dinner I got a call from a close friend.

He told me he had been hearing voices.

Now, this friend was – and still is – one of the most grounded, this-world oriented people I know. I knew he wasn’t making things up, and I knew he wouldn’t be calling me if there was a “rational explanation” for it. He’s also a medical professional – if he had a medical problem he’d recognize the symptoms.

Anyway, I told him it could be a ghost or a disembodied human spirit. It could be a fairy or a nature spirit. Or maybe it was something else – I offered to refer him to more knowledgeable people if he wanted.

He never brought it up again. 19 years later, nothing has changed. He’s still a friend, still very grounded, and as far as I know, never heard voices again.

The Friday after Thanksgiving 2001

Some time the next day I realized I was talking like I was some sort of expert on the supernatural, when in fact I didn’t know if I really believed any of it. I didn’t know what I was talking about.

That realization hit me like the proverbial cosmic 2×4. I heard someone (more likely Someone, but to this day I don’t know who, and it doesn’t really matter) say

“GET SERIOUS OR MOVE ON!”

I didn’t know exactly what “get serious” entailed, but I had a crystal clear vision of what would happen if I abandoned this path. I saw myself much older (about the age I currently am), sitting in the pew of a non-descript Mainline Protestant church, trying to “do good” but bored silly, and filled with regrets for what might have been.

I had to see where the Pagan path would take me.

I had to get serious.

And I did.

19 years of study and practice

This is where I went from “seeking” to diligently following a path. And so I mark my Druidry from the Friday after Thanksgiving 2001, even though I wouldn’t discover Druidry until several months later.

There is very little we know about the ancient Druids with any certainty. They didn’t keep written records (though they were literate) and so what little we know about them comes from outside sources. One of those sources says that Druids trained for 19 years.

That struck me as important… to me if not to all Druids. And it wasn’t long before I knew that the Friday after Thanksgiving 2020 was going to be an important date for me.

The Metonic Cycle

The 19 year time period likely comes from the Metonic Cycle.

The lunar cycle and the solar cycle don’t line up over the course of a year – that’s why our months have different numbers of days. But over 19 years, they do – the moon will be in the same phase on the same date 19 years apart.

We know the Babylonians and the Romans were aware of the Metonic Cycle by 600 BCE or so. It’s likely the Celts were too.

Now, the Friday after Thanksgiving 2001 was November 23. I will go out tomorrow night and pour special offerings, but I’m saving my big celebration for Friday. Because November 23 wasn’t what was important to me – what was important was the Friday after Thanksgiving.

Bryn Celli Ddu, Anglesey, Wales - 2014
Bryn Celli Ddu, Anglesey, Wales – 2014

What changes after 19 years?

I always knew this was going to be an important date. But I never had any idea what would change after 19 years of study and practice.

To the best of my knowledge, none of the many contemporary Druid orders have a 19 year requirement for any of their grades or levels. OBOD’s study program is nominally three years – it took me five and a half.

I’m too young to retire, and other than stepping aside from formal leadership in Denton CUUPS, none of my Pagan and Druid work is something you retire from. Or at least, that’s how I see it.

I always assumed that some sort of “next level” opportunity would present itself. But that’s a rather romantic idea… and a bit nerdish, too. The Gods aren’t tied to the Metonic Cycle. If any of Them had something They wanted me to take on, They’d tell me when They were ready – and They have.

I started seriously thinking and meditating on this earlier this year. But there was always something more urgent and more important: blog posts to write, classes to teach, rituals to video, political movements to support.

A couple weeks ago it finally hit me: there will be no “step change” in my Druidry, in my priesthood, or in my Paganism. Trying to force one would be unwise and likely unsuccessful.

But this is still an important milestone for me, and I still intend to celebrate it.

What to celebrate after 19 years?

First of all, I want to remember my epiphany and give thanks for it. Honestly addressing those deep religious questions was hard. Without Someone yelling GET SERIOUS OR MOVE ON I might have kept trying to straddle the fence between liberal Christianity and Paganism and going nowhere.

I want to celebrate 19 years seriously dedicated to this path, and 27 years on it in total. There have been times when I’ve thought “I wonder when I’m going to get tired of this and drop it for something else?” I’ve made oaths and other commitments – walking away hasn’t been a viable option for quite some time. But it’s been 19 years and I’m still going strong – I don’t want to walk away. This is my calling in life, and I’m glad I found it.

I want to review some of the steps along the way. It’s easy to get so caught up in today (especially in a year like 2020) that we forget where we started and how far we’ve come. This is one of the reasons I recommend journaling as a spiritual practice. I have good notes for all of these past 19 years… plus 12 years here on the blog.

Nothing is ever certain in life, much less in the middle of a pandemic. But according to the actuarial tables, the odds are good that I’ll complete another Metonic Cycle. Age has already started slowing me down, and that will only accelerate as I get older. It is not reasonable to expect I’ll be able to go as far in the next 19 years as I have in the past 19 years.

But then again, I’m starting in a much better place, and don’t have to spend any time figuring out what path I’m supposed to follow. So maybe I can go as far, or even farther.

Who knows? I’m not sure even the Gods know.

What I do know is that 19 years ago I had an epiphany and it changed my life.

And for that I am very, very thankful.

June 3, 2020

The Awen – the mystical elixir of wisdom and inspiration – flows on its own schedule, for its own reasons. I spent four days trying to come up with a blog post to say something about the murder of George Floyd and the protests that followed. Nothing blog length came together. Instead, on Monday afternoon I wrote barely 100 words on Facebook that I call Four Things I Know.

Apparently what needed to be said didn’t require 1500 words. Four Things I Know was very well-received. It was shared widely and now I have a bunch of new friends and followers.

And a few new enemies, who think I’m abetting evil for daring to condemn murder without condemning property destruction at the same time. Riots are problematic, even when they’re understandable. These riots are particularly complicated because of the several very different groups participating in them. But while property can be replaced, people can’t. Property destruction is not equivalent to murder, and insisting on “condemning them both” is to be one of the white moderates who Martin Luther King, Jr. complained “are more devoted to order than to justice.”

I’ve also had some complaints that “I follow you for Paganism, not for politics.” These people must not have been following me for very long, because while my primary emphasis with this blog is Pagan and polytheist religion, politics have always been part of the mix.

How could it be any other way?

Religion is far more than belief

One of the unfortunate outcomes from Christianity in general and Protestantism in particular is the idea that religion is primarily about what you believe: which set of supernatural propositions you accept and which ones you reject. But for most people throughout most of the world throughout most of history, religion was and is about what you do, who you are, and whose you are.

The Anomalous Thracian says religion is a container for relationships. I like that definition. The concepts, traditions, and practices of my Pagan polytheist religion are primarily intended to help me form and maintain respectful reciprocal relationships with my Gods and ancestors, and with my family, community, and the wide range of persons – both human and other-than-human – with whom I share this world.

Too many people think religion is all about rules and control. That’s true for some religions – in practice if not by design – but Paganism is far more about virtues and values. In a difficult situation, the main question is not “what’s the rule here?” but “which virtues are involved, and how can I best embody them?”

The highest virtues of my religion are hospitality and reciprocity. Perseverance is perhaps the most beneficial to us as individuals. Justice is essential for a healthy society.

My religion is just as much about promoting these and other virtues as it is about saying prayers, making offerings, and leading rituals.

Politics is the collective expression of our highest values

Embodying virtues is simple when it’s just you. It’s never easy, as anyone who’s ever tried to be both honest and kind and the same time understands. But it’s simple enough – this is what’s important to you so this is how you live.

It gets harder when you move into the public realm. Humans are social animals, and as our 10,000-year experiment with civilization shows, we accomplish far more when we work together.

But how should we work together? How can we best promote a cohesive society while still respecting the individuality of all its members? What are our communal obligations and what should be the responsibility of individuals? How can we best protect the poor and weak from the strong and powerful?

There are many different approaches to these questions. Which approaches we prefer is an expression of our values, which flow from our religion. If my Pagan religion teaches that Nature is sacred, I cannot be silent on issues of protecting clean water and air, and preserving habitats for other species.

If my Pagan religion teaches justice – and it does – I cannot be silent when those charged with protecting society instead needlessly kill people, especially when they do so because of institutional racism.

Justice in Tower Time

Ignoring politics supports the status quo

I get it – politics is messy and complicated, and over my lifetime it’s gotten increasingly polarized and vicious. Change is hard and it comes too slowly. But ignoring it makes a clear statement that you’re OK with the way things are now.

Too many of us are OK with the way things are now.

Things aren’t great, but they’re good enough, and change is scary. Plus our lives are fragile. If protesters block a road we may be late to work, so we’ll get fired, so we’ll lose our livelihood. Doing the work to make our lives – and everyone else’s lives – less dependent on the arbitrary demands of employers and thus less fragile is hard. It’s so much easier to just demand that other people not interfere with what we’re used to, even if what they’re trying to say is “stop killing us.”

And let’s face it: a lot of people like authoritarian rule, even if they’re not the ones in charge.

You must of course do what seems right to you. As for me, I can’t ignore the impact of the political system on other people, even if it works OK for me, sorta kinda, some of the time.

I serve a Goddess of Sovereignty

The Morrigan is the Irish Goddess of sovereignty, of battle, and of the aftermath of battle. She is one of most active deities in our world, if not the most active. I served her informally for 13 years and now formally since 2017.

Sovereignty isn’t the hot topic of discussion it was in the Pagan community a few years ago, but it’s still an important concept. Sovereignty means the right to rule and the responsibility to rule rightly. Depending on your view (and I support all these views, depending on the context) sovereignty flows from the people, from the Goddess of Sovereignty, or from the land itself.

Sovereignty is not unconditional. If the ruler rules unjustly or ineffectively, Sovereignty will withdraw Her blessings and the land will suffer.

Our land is suffering greatly.

I do not believe the Morrigan – or pretty much any other deity – cares much which political party is in power, in this country or anywhere else. But She has made it very clear to me and to many others that we are to work toward building a more just society. And in Her typical opaque fashion, She’s left the details for us to work out on our own.

I write about politics and I participate in the political process because my values tell me I must. But I also do these things because a Goddess to whom I am oathed insists that I do them.

The Morrigan

Devotion comes first for me

To be honest, I don’t get all that much criticism for blogging about political matters. After almost 12 years people have figured out that this is what I do and I’m going to keep doing it no matter what they say.

And I occasionally get some criticism from those who think I’m not political enough.

For me, it’s not a question of whether devotion or politics is more important. They’re both important. But the inspiration I need to do the political work I do flows from my connections to my Gods, ancestors, and other spiritual allies. If I don’t put my devotional work first, I won’t be able to do the political work.

And as much as I’m convinced that active participation in the political process is a good and necessary thing, I’m equally convinced that putting our faith in politics is the wrong choice.

Nature is stronger than government. Magic is stronger than law. The human spirit is stronger than politics. And the Gods are stronger than any of them.

This is who I am and what I do. I write about Paganism and polytheism, about religion and magic, and occasionally about politics. If you find what I write helpful or engaging, I hope you’ll stick around. If you don’t, the internet is a big place – I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for somewhere else.

And now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for prayer.


Browse Our Archives