A Pagan Reviews An Evangelical Book About Pagans

Last updated on: June 24, 2024 at 3:09 pm By John Beckett

One day in high school I walked into my Algebra II class and found the chalkboard covered with a series of equations. It was a mathematical proof that 2 = 1. The instructions for the class said “find the fallacy.”

I figured it would be easy. I started at the beginning, worked quickly through all the equations, and finished with 2 = 1. Obviously I made a mistake. So I worked through them again, this time more carefully. Again I got 2 = 1. A third try stepping through the “proof” as deliberately as I could yielded the same result.

I looked around the classroom – nobody else had it either. After about ten minutes the teacher circled one part of one of the equations and said “division by zero.” Then we all saw it.

Anything divided by zero is infinity – in ordinary mathematics division by zero is said to be undefined. That means anything derived from it is meaningless and the “proof” should have stopped when it reached that point.

We were the smartest kids in our class. We learned “you can’t divide by zero” in elementary school. We all missed this because we were so caught up in the details of the equations that we overlooked an erroneous foundational assumption.

The Return of Paganism

Anthony Costello is one of the more thoughtful bloggers on the Patheos Evangelical Channel. While I rarely agree with him, I appreciate his rational approach to religion. In particular, I appreciate that he engages Paganism honestly. Unlike so many, he doesn’t use “Pagan” when he means “secular” and he doesn’t use it to mean “anything that’s not my flavor of Christianity.” So when I saw he had written a book called The Return of Paganism I knew I wanted to read it.

This is a work of Christian apologetics. It attempts to use logic and reason to prove the superiority of the Christian religion. At 34 pages it’s more of a pamphlet than a book, but that’s not a criticism – writers should use as many words as they need to make their point and no more. It is an FYI in case you decide to buy the book yourself.

Costello does a better job of honestly describing modern Paganism than almost any conservative Christian I’ve seen. He draws heavily from Pagan academics, including Michael York, Sabina Magliocco, and Graham Harvey. He understands that Paganism is broad and impossible to precisely define – he settles on a working definition of Paganism as a Nature religion that emphasizes the autonomy of the individual. I argue for a broader definition with more emphasis on the Gods, but Costello’s working definition is better than most and certainly adequate for his purposes.

He ends his section on ontology by saying “the bottom line of neopagan ontology is simply this: nature equals god, or all the gods. Full stop.”

I don’t agree completely, but so far so good.

Epistemology: honest but incomplete

The section on Epistemology (how we know what we know) is honest but incomplete. He begins by quoting Sabina Magliocco on how the Enlightenment devalued “traditional ways of knowing” including ecstatic experiences. He reprints an account of one Pagan’s ecstatic experience, but then quotes C.S. Lewis, who said “Paganism is all belly, no head.” He admits that ecstatic experiences have always been “a means to sacred knowledge” but then complains that “today’s pagans are not ascetics … they are primarily sensualists” – as though one is inherently better than the other.

Disappointingly, there is no exposition as to how and why the Christian approach to epistemology is better. I left Evangelical Christianity long before I became a Pagan because it made claims to rationality and factualism it could not support.

Two key errors on ethics and morality

The section on Morality is where Costello gets sloppy. He quotes Michael York on the necessity of freedom, then falls into the tired argument of “if there are no objective standards of good and evil, then anything is OK” (I’m summarizing – this is not an exact quote). He says (and this is an exact quote) “Nature is amoral and so neopaganism is amoral.”

This statement makes two key errors.

The first is that it ignores works on ethics by Pagans from ancient times until today, including something as basic and commonplace as the Wiccan Rede – “an it harm none, do as you will.” Even Aleister Crowley tempered “do as thou will shall be the whole of the law” with “love is the law, love under will.” Few if any contemporary Pagans argue for the kind of absolute libertinism Costello and others suggest.

Secondly, to say that “Nature is amoral” ignores the fact that humans are part of Nature, and humans are ethical creatures. Our ethics are subjective, often unclear, and always imperfect. But you will find prohibitions on murder and theft and other harm-causing actions in virtually every human society, including those who have never heard of Abrahamic monotheism.

We have ethics because we have compassion. We see others suffer and we instinctively realize that we shouldn’t do things that cause suffering. And we have ethics because we are rational creatures (again, imperfectly so). We see that not causing harm makes society better for everyone including ourselves, and so we encode these concepts in our laws, our myths, and our religions.

Modern Paganism arose in part as a reaction to unnatural and repressive Christian morals, particularly around sexuality. We’ve also learned how “sex is good and natural” can be abused to coerce people into having sex they don’t want, and so we’re working to build a consent culture.

Modern Pagan ethics are a lot deeper and more complex than “if it feels good do it.”

Paganism and Christianity: two very different paths

Costello begins the section Paganism & Christianity by saying “Paganism and Christianity cannot really co-exist in any meaningful way, in spite of their shared humanity.”

Taken at face value, this is a dangerous statement. We must all co-exist: Pagans, Christians, Muslims, atheists, and everyone else. I’m going to give Costello the benefit of the doubt and assume what he means is that Pagans and Christians can be polite neighbors but our religions cannot be reconciled – you can be one or the other but not both, and those who try succeed at neither.

This is where a book based strictly on reason would end – with the admission that Paganism and Christianity are different religions with different foundational assumptions, different understandings of the problems of humanity, and different prescriptions for dealing with those problems. Instead, Costello falls back on the old complaint about Pagans worshipping the Creation instead of the Creator – even though earlier in the book he made it clear he understands that Pagans see no difference between Creation and Creator.

And then he makes an unforced error. He mentions the Christian doctrine of the Resurrection of Jesus and says “for the pagan, and this may be the saddest part of all pagan experience, there is only this world.”

Huh?

I understand that some of our Pagan academics are naturalists who believe in only this one life in this one world, though I don’t know if any of the ones named here agree with that or not. But the stories of our ancestors are filled with descriptions of the Otherworld, Valhalla, the Elysian Fields, the Duat, and seemingly-countless versions of the afterlife. Many Pagans – both ancient and modern – expect to be reincarnated in this world. I’ve written on this on several occasions, especially in this piece from 2017.

It’s true that Pagans are primarily concerned with living fully in this world, not with trying to qualify for “the good place” in the afterlife. But many if not most modern Pagans believe that death does not end life, but rather transforms it.

An exercise in sheep herding

In the final section “Living in a Pagan World” Costello says that “western culture is already Pagan.”

I wish he was right.

I wish we didn’t have states mandating the Ten Commandments be posted in every public classroom. I wish Beltane was a national holiday, and that we all celebrated the Winter Solstice instead of Christmas. I wish an American President was Pagan… or Jewish, or Buddhist, or atheist, or anything to break up this run of 46 out of 46 Christians. Even one of the most prominent atheists calls himself a “cultural Christian.”

Here Costello shifts from dealing with Paganism honestly to fearmongering. He takes that further when he says “the Christian campaign must be one of offense, not defense.”

The Return of Paganism fails to make a rational case for the superiority of the Christian religion. But it wasn’t written to convert Pagans to Christianity. It was written in an attempt to close the barn door, to try to stem the tide of people leaving Christianity in general and Evangelical Christianity in particular. It was written to tell people who have unexamined foundational assumptions they learned in Evangelical churches that Paganism is different and therefore wrong.

But most of us aren’t in high school anymore, and we’ve learned to spot fallacies.

Dear Exvangelicals: I’m Rooting For You

Last updated on: May 27, 2024 at 2:43 pm By John Beckett

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I joined Threads and BlueSky a few months ago, looking for an alternative to the social media site formerly known as Twitter. Almost immediately, the algorithms of both sites started filling my feeds with Exvangelicals: people who are or were part of Evangelical Christianity but who are somewhere in the process of deconstructing their beliefs – questioning the things they were told they had to believe but that are contrary to their reading of the Bible, their understanding of Jesus, and their own good sense.

The Exvangelical movement is in large part a reaction to White Christian Nationalism – a Christianity grounded in exclusivist theology, patriarchy, xenophobia, a hatred of all things LGBTQ+, and opposition to women’s empowerment, especially reproductive rights. It’s a reaction to Evangelical support for Donald Trump, the most un-Christ-like person ever to be President of the United States.

It’s only been in the last few years that the Exvangelical movement has had a name. Before that, it was just “people leaving the church” – as they’ve been doing for the past 60 years. People decided “this just isn’t working for me” and they stopped going to church.

But for some, it wasn’t that simple. It certainly wasn’t for me. When something is a part of your life since birth, and when you’ve been told all that time that the eternal fate of your soul depends on keeping it a part of your life, you can’t just walk away.

And yet something deep inside you whispers “this is wrong and you know it – get out.”

This is not a feature on Exvangelicals for my usual Pagan audience. It’s certainly not an attempt to recruit Exvangelicals into Paganism – proselytizing people who are in difficult situations is evil, and in any case, Paganism is not a proselytizing religion. Rather, this is my attempt to tell Exvangelicals and others in similar situations that I got out of Evangelical fundamentalism and onto a religious path that is meaningful and helpful to me.

And they can too.

Knowing “this is wrong” but not knowing where to go instead

I grew up in a small fundamentalist Baptist church. As a child, I believed what I was taught. Why wouldn’t I? My parents fully believed it and it was part of the wider culture in Tennessee in the 1960s and 70s. I went to Sunday School, I read the Bible, and I sang “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.”

When I was a little older I got to thinking about all the children of the world, and how according to Evangelical doctrine, the vast majority were going to “spend eternity in hell” because they believed the wrong things – and most of them never had a realistic chance to believe the “right” things.

This was “God’s plan”??? If that’s God’s plan, then God is either a lousy planner or is unworthy of worship.

At that point I knew I couldn’t stay where I was religiously, but I didn’t have the knowledge and experience to know where I could go. I knew I wasn’t an atheist – the same part of me that knew “this is wrong” also knew there’s more to life than the material world. So while I continued going to the Baptist church (I was a kid and trying to convince my parents to let me not go to church, or even to go to a different church, was a non-starter), in my heart and in my head I became something of a Christian universalist. I trusted that God would take care of everyone in one way or another.

My journey from there to where I am now is another story, one I wrote about a few years ago.

That church wasn’t as political as many right-wing churches are today, but they still preached patriarchy and xenophobia. Their politics were easy to dismiss.

Their theology took more work.

A religious house of cards

Evangelical doctrine is a house of cards. Their whole “metanarrative” of sin and redemption requires a historcal Adam and Eve. If Adam and Eve weren’t historical people, then there is no Garden of Eden, there is no Fall of Man, and the whole concept of original sin is meaningless.

If Genesis isn’t history and not myth, Evangelical doctrine is false.

I was a curious, intelligent, and rather nerdy little kid who loved science – it’s no wonder I became an engineer. Geology and astrophysics make it clear that the Earth is 4.5 billion years old, not 6,000. Biology and archaeology makes it clear that humans have been around for about 200,000 years and that every living thing on Earth is descended from a common ancestor, not that we suddenly appeared as we are now.

Catholics have managed to hold on to some rather conservative doctrines while still affirming the findings of science. Evangelicals have not. They cling to the insistence that the Bible is “inerrant” and that the myths of Genesis are history, not stories the ancient Hebrews told to explain where they came from, like most every other people on Earth.

They are wrong. And they will twist themselves into intellectual knots to insist that they aren’t.

The fear of rejecting what you were told you have to believe, even when it’s clearly false

I’ve talked to some Evangelicals and read many more who are intelligent, well-educated people who insist on ignoring the findings of science and history and clinging to a literal interpretation of the Bible. How can that be?

Because they’re terrified to do anything else.

If you’ve been told all your life that the eternal fate of your soul depends believing certain things, it can be very hard to examine the evidence and come to the conclusion that those things are, in fact, false. Pascal’s Wager is intellectually dishonest and spiritually bankrupt, but its emotional pull is strong.

Dear Exvangelicals, I want to give you credit for making it this far. These questions are hard to ask and even harder to wrestle with. They’re hard to contemplate when those in positions of religious authority insist that their beliefs – whether they hold those beliefs genuinely or out of fear – are the absolute truth and anything else is the work of the devil.

Trust science and the scientfic method – they’re how we’ve moved from the bronze age to the computer age in just a few centuries. Trust your heart and your brain – they’re gifts from the Divine, however you understand or will come to understand the Divine.

Read!

Your journey out of Biblical literalism, Evangelical doctrine, fear-based religion, and nationalist politics may take a different direction than mine. That’s OK. But there are some things that were very helpful to me that I’m pretty sure will be helpful for you.

Read. A lot. From a wide variety of sources and traditions. Read science and learn how a historical reading of Genesis is intellectually dishonest. Read mythology and learn how the myths of the Bible (a myth is not a “made up story” – a myth is story that provides meaning and identity) are similar to the myths of other people in the Ancient Near East. Read Jewish scholars learn how the people who wrote what Christians call the Old Testament have understood those books for centuries (hint: it’s not what you were taught in Sunday School).

And then read some Buddhist, Hindu, Shinto, and Confuscian writers and get a whole different perspective on religion. Learn about the world’s remaining indigenous cultures and get a glimpse into how your ancestors lived and thought thousand of years ago.

And if it’s not too blatantly self-promoting, I’d like to suggest you read some modern Pagan authors and learn about a religion grounded in Nature, the Many Gods, the Self, and Community.

All religious questions are inherently uncertain

When you understand that the Bible is not inerrant, that the Evangelical “metanarrative” is false, and that many different people have many different approaches to religion, you come to one inescapable fact: all religion is inherently uncertain. The Big Questions of Life – where do we come from, what comes after death, how should we live – are ultimately unanswerable. Not because our technology isn’t sufficiently advanced, but because they deal with matters that are beyond the capacity of our brilliant but still finite brains to comprehend.

And so the question for religion isn’t “what is true?” but rather “what is meaningful and helpful?”

Good religion isn’t about which set of unprovable supernatural propositions you affirm and which ones you reject, but rather about who you are, what you do and how you live, and perhaps most importantly, whose you are. One of the etymological roots of the English word “religion” is the Latin word religare, which means “to bind together.”

Who do you wish to be bound together with, not with chains or with claims of religious and ethnic superiority, but with mutual commitments to love and support each other as we make our way through life?

Move at your own speed

I caution you to move at your own speed. You will no doubt want to figure this all out as quickly as you can. Work diligently toward that goal, but understand that this is a process that takes months and years, not days and weeks. Don’t give up if you don’t get to where you want to go right away. Escaping a lifetime of fear-based indoctrination takes time.

Expect setbacks. The tentacles that got into your brain and into your soul during all those years in Evangelical churches are deep and persistent. They have a way of reappearing at odd and inconvenient times.

“But what if I’m wrong?” “But what if they really are right?” “What if I’m going to hell?”

This isn’t a sign of failure. It’s just a reminder that anything worthwhile requires sustained effort. Remind yourself of what you’ve learned, remind yourself you no longer believe what the Evangelicals told you, and remind yourself why you no longer believe it.

Recommit to escaping toxic religion and to living the kind of life you want to live and that you’re called to live.

I’ll be honest: a purely intellectual approach didn’t work for me. The bad experiences of 18+ years in fundamentalist Evangelical churches and in a fundamentalist Evangelical home couldn’t be rationalized away. I had to crowd them out with good experiences in Pagan and Unitarian Univeralist settings. Perhaps you can reason your way out of this. But if you can’t, don’t give up. Keep working.

Do you need a debaptism? Probably not. But if you do, or if you want one, it can be done.

Blessings and good luck on your path

My hope for everyone is that you find the religious path and religious community that works for you: that makes sense and that helps you deal with the realities of life and death. For some of you, this will be a more reasonable and inclusive form of Christianity. For others, a different religion entirely. Many of you are likely to join the “none of the above” movement of people who are religious at a high level but who reject any and all doctine as unnecessary and unhelpful.

I found my way to Paganism and it works for me. If it works for you, great. If not, I wish you well in finding and following the path that calls to you.

The Fall of the House of Usher

Last updated on: October 27, 2023 at 3:17 pm By John Beckett

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The Fall of the House of Usher is brilliant. It sets Edgar Allan Poe’s stories in our time, but remains faithful to them both in theme and in atmosphere.

The eight-episode series on Netflix explores the question of how ordinary people can do horrible things. The answer it gives in the very end is accurate and useful from a philosophical perspective, and it also makes for satisfying entertainment. That’s a hard combination to produce, but show creator, writer, and director Mike Flanagan nails it.

It helps that he started with some of the best gothic horror source material in the English language. Still, others have tried and not done nearly as well. I love the Edgar Allan Poe movies made by Roger Corman and Vincent Price in the 1960s, but while they’re more fun they lack the depth this series brings to its screen adaptation.

When it comes to horror, I don’t really want to be scared. I want to be fascinated. The Fall of the House of Usher is absolutely fascinating, but it’s also scary. There’s just enough violence and gore to be realistic without being gratuitous (i.e. – without making me look away from the screen). Most of it happens to people who bring it on themselves, but sometimes it happens to characters we like and are sad to see suffer and die.

If you have the least bit of interest in horror, in Edgar Allan Poe, or in an exploration of the nature of evil, go watch The Fall of the House of Usher.

This review contains minor spoilers for the show, but nothing you probably haven’t already heard, or would figure out halfway through the first episode. This is an Edgar Allan Poe story – you know you’re not going to get a happy ending. Still, if you want to watch the show completely fresh, you should stop reading here.

A story as a framework for other stories

When Edgar Allan Poe wrote this short story in 1839, he used the old and crumbling house where the Ushers lived as a metaphor for the decline of the Usher family. There’s an actual house involved in the 2023 miniseries, but mainly “The Fall of the House of Usher” is used as a container to present several other Poe stories, all wrapped around the decline and demise of the Usher family.

It centers around Roderick and Madeline Usher, twins born out of wedlock in 1950 to Eliza Usher, a secretary, and her boss William Longfellow, CEO of Fortunato Pharmaceuticals. Longfellow never claims his children, a critical point in Roderick’s later life. Roderick goes on to father six children, the first two with his then-wife Annabel Lee and the last four with various girlfriends and one night stands. Roderick vows to do better than his father and fully accepts “the bastards” as his. He means well, at least at first.

The story bounces back and forth between a critical time for Roderick and Madeline in 1979 and the present, where they’re CEO and COO of Fortunato Pharmaceuticals and are on trial for promoting addictive painkillers as “safe and effective.”

And then the Ushers start dying one by one, each in a different Poe story. Prospero, the youngest, sets up an exclusive high-dollar party in an abandoned Fortunato factory, an orgy of sex and drugs for the rich and beautiful with “no consequences.”

Except there are always consequences.

Over the eight episodes, we see the deaths of the Ushers presented in “The Masque of the Red Death” (my favorite Poe story, and one that’s extremely relevant to our times), “Murder in the Rue Morgue”, “The Pit and the Pendulum” and more. Along the way, we learn how Roderick and Madeline moved from orphans struggling to survive to the richest of the rich.

And we see how the House of Usher falls.

This is not Luke Skywalker

The acting performances in The Fall of the House of Usher are excellent across the board. I want to call out two in particular.

The first is Mark Hamill as Arthur Pym, the Usher family lawyer. “The Pym Reaper” is a fixer whose entire life consists of cleaning up after the people who pay him, no matter what he has to do or who he has to kill. This is about as far from Luke Skywalker as you can get. It would be easy to play Pym as a caricature of a mob lawyer, but Hamill plays him as someone who is scary because he’s so believable.

The second and most impressive is Carla Gugino as Verna. Her name is an anagram of “raven” and it’s not clear what she is, other than she’s not human. She’s the mysterious figure in red in “The Masque of the Red Death” and takes other key forms in the different stories. In 1979 she offers Roderick and Madeline a life-changing deal – just as she offered deals to John D. Rockefeller, Prescott Bush, and other rich and powerful historical figures. As with Hamill playing Pym, it would have been easy for Gugino to play a stereotypical deal-making demon. Verna is much more complicated, much more real, and thus much more frightening.

A journey into evil

Roderick and Madeline were ordinary children in a difficult but far from unusual situation. They faced challenges similar to those many of us faced and are facing as young adults. Roderick wanted the father he never had. He was a kind and loving husband to Annabel Lee. Madeline wanted what so many women of her generation wanted – to be successful on her own terms without having to service a man to get there. How did they end up building an empire on lies and death?

The Fall of the House of Usher gives two answers.

The most direct answer is by crossing lines we all know we can’t cross. The first time it’s hard. You know it’s wrong and you want to do the right thing. You just want whatever is on the other side of that line a little more. Maybe the cost of doing the right thing is high. You figure you won’t get caught, even though you’re terrified you will. And so you tell a lie, betray a friend, keep your mouth shut when you know you should speak up.

The second time it’s easier. The third time it’s easier still. Eventually things like ethics and truth and relationships are meaningless. There are just ends, and whatever means it takes to achieve them.

The most important answer is given in the final monologue by C. Auguste Dupin, the prosecutor Roderick calls to hear his story before he dies:

“It don’t matter in the end, why you did any of it. I don’t fucking care why you did it.”

The Ushers weren’t “bad people” – even the ones who did very bad things. They were ordinary people placed in difficult and painful situations. Their wealth fixed one set of problems and caused another. Their power shielded them from consequences, which kept them from learning from their mistakes, which caused them to make more and deeper mistakes.

And in the end, none of that mattered. They crossed lines we learn not to cross in kindergarten, they harmed thousands and millions of people, and eventually the consequences caught up with them.

Poe is still a genius 184 years later

Don’t misunderstand: The Fall of the House of Usher is not a morality play. It’s a superb adaptation of some of Edgar Allan Poe’s best-known stories. It’s stylish, and scary, and entertaining.

And it provides some of most apt social commentary I’ve seen in years.

Pick a reason, any reason.

Just watch it.

Evangelicals Claim Paganism Isn’t Really Pagan

Last updated on: June 29, 2023 at 11:02 pm By John Beckett

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I recently came across an article from the Evangelical Christian website Breakpoint titled Is New Paganism Actually Pagan? The writers ask what appears to be an honest question, even if the proper answer is “you’re not Pagan, why do you care?” The problem is in the subtitle: “the modern practice of this ancient belief embraces the innovations of Christianity.”

The article starts out with a fair description of modern Paganism, quoting several actual Pagan practitioners, including Ronald Hutton. But then it argues that “all the things that make modern Paganism appealing to modern people aren’t Pagan” and concludes by claiming “only Jesus offers the truth” – by which, of course, they mean their ideas about Jesus, as opposed to the ideas of Catholics, Mainline Protestants, and other non-Evangelical Christians.

As Pagans, the claims of other religions to exclusive possession of Truth are not our concern – except to dismiss them as arrogant and impossible to support. What is our concern is the claim that our Paganism is somehow inauthentic because it doesn’t exactly match the Paganism of our ancient ancestors, and the claim that the appealing parts of modern Paganism were cribbed from Christianity.

Neither claim is true.

A very selective reading of history – and of current events

The Breakpoint article tries to credit Christianity for “the idea of human equality and dignity” and away from wars and conquest. It is true that the earliest Christians emphasized equality and dignity, arguing that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female…” But once Christianity became the dominant religion of the Roman Empire, that idea went away quickly.

Have these writers forgotten about the Crusades, the slave trade, the Inquisition, and the witch trials? The Hundred Years War and the near non-stop wars in Europe until the mid-20^th century? Colonization and genocide in Africa, Asia, and the Americas?

Have they forgotten that the largest Protestant denomination in this country – the Southern Baptist Convention – was formed in defense of slavery?

The Breakpoint writers are accurate in pointing out that ancient Paganism was not a bastion of humanistic virtue (though it was far deeper than they admit). They are dishonest in failing to recognize that Christianity’s record isn’t significantly better.

The Enlightenment happened in spite of Christianity, not because of it

The Enlightenment happened in a society that was thoroughly Christian. That doesn’t mean it happened because of Christian religion, philosophy, or culture. Correlation is not causation.

Need I bring up Galileo? Or Giordano Bruno, who was burned at the stake for heresy in 1600 – only 16 years before Galileo was forced to recant his observations that the Earth revolves around the Sun and not vice versa?

The Christian (and especially Evangelical) denial of science continues in our time. Other Breakpoint writers argue against the well-established theory of evolution, and a significant number of Evangelicals believe the Earth is only 6000 years old.

The Enlightenment happened because the Church lost its ability to control the spread of ideas and because the spread of science encouraged people to look for demonstrable cause and effect. And, as philosopher Brendan Myers explained in his excellent book The Earth, The Gods and The Soul “people got tired of the austerities of Christian discipline and the misanthropy of the Doctrine of Original Sin.”

Though some Christians try to take credit for the Enlightenment, others view it as a mistake they hope to remedy. Protestant Dominionists and Catholic Integralists both seek to end liberal Western democracy and replace it with their version of a theocracy.

A number of scientists, artists, and other key people in the Enlightenment were Christians who took their faith seriously and still worked for knowledge, justice, and tolerance. So are many contemporary Christians, some of whom are our friends and allies. But to credit the Enlightenment and the promotion of liberal values to the Christian religion is simply inaccurate.

A good religion is a living religion

The charge that Paganism got its good stuff from Christianity is blatantly false. The implication that it’s not really Pagan because it’s not identical to ancient Paganism is a misunderstanding of what religion is supposed to be.

As modern Pagans, we are inspired by the beliefs and practices of our ancestors. But we are not trying to re-create the religion of Iron Age Britain, because we are not Iron Age Britons. Our religion must speak to us and the world we live in, here and now. Paganism is growing in large part because its emphasis on the sacredness of Nature addresses many of our spiritual and practical concerns in this era of climate change and species loss. It’s growing because it understands and promotes gender equality. It’s growing because its acceptance of magic is meaningful and helpful in an era where rights are being taken away.

Meanwhile, Christianity is in steep decline because more and more people do not want to be associated with an institution that denies science and promotes hatred of LGBTQ people and the subjugation of women.

What makes Paganism Pagan?

Paganism is a very broad movement. We can’t define it – we can only describe it. But in general, and speaking for myself, there are a few things that make Paganism Pagan.

Paganism is built on a foundation of animism: the idea that everything is not a thing but a person who we can relate to as persons, and who are worthy of the respect due persons. Christians like to talk about Imago Dei. They’re not wrong, they just don’t take it far enough. All species are part of the divine, not just humans.

Therefore, Paganism sees Nature not as “fallen” but as sacred. We come from Nature – the Earth is our Mother and is due our reverent and loving care. The pleasures of Nature, which among many include food, drink, and sex, are good and holy and should be enjoyed and celebrated, not repressed.

Paganism recognizes the multiplicity of the divine. We understand that many different Gods call many different people to worship and work with Them in many different ways. The world’s many religions are the result of the many Gods and our diverse experiences of Them. Whether a tradition’s beliefs and practices are “true” is far less important than how those beliefs and practices motivate their followers to live in harmony with each other and with the world at large.

This diversity extends to individual humans, and so each person has the inherent right to live their lives and to participate in society as they see fit, unlimited by anyone else’s ideas about race, color, sex, gender identity and gender roles, or any other element of identity or orientation.

Paganism is a magical religion. It recognizes that because everything is connected we can influence everything, even though we can control nothing. Because we have magic, we are never powerless.

Paganism is not a religion of rules. Rather, it is a religion of virtues. In difficult situations we do not ask “what is the rule I must follow?” but “what is the applicable virtue and how can I best embody it?” We recognize that sometimes virtues are in conflict and hard choices must be made. No one can make these choices for another.

There is much more, particularly when we move into individual Pagan traditions. But this is the core of what makes Paganism Pagan.

Keeping the sheep inside the pen

Let’s be honest: this article isn’t intended for proselytizing against Pagans. It’s intended to keep Christians who may feel an intuitive pull toward Paganism from exploring it too deeply.

Christianity in particular and monotheism in general require constant aggressive reinforcement. Without that reinforcement, people intuitively begin to see the beauty and sacredness of Nature. They understand that pleasure is good, not sinful. They experience the multiplicity of the divine and they begin talking about the God of this and the Goddess of that. They have a great need and so they seek out magic, and then the magic works. Paganism is an organic, intuitive religion.

Paganism isn’t a proselytizing religion. It’s not our job to tell anybody which God to worship and how to worship Them. But it is our job – my job – to be here for those who feel that intuitive pull toward Nature and the Gods of Nature.

Because for some of us, Paganism provides meaning and inspiration that no monotheistic religion can match.

Worship, Practice, and Spirits from Pop Culture

Last updated on: September 16, 2022 at 2:15 pm By John Beckett

Today we have four questions: on worship, practice, spirits from pop culture, and comparing different Pagan traditions.

What is worship and why should we do it?

What is “worship” from a Pagan perspective, and is it necessary for a Pagan to worship a deity?

To address the second question first, “Pagan” is a very broad term. It includes some people who are non-theists, and others who are theists but for whatever reason do not worship any Gods. Those people are still Pagans. So no, it is not necessary for Pagans to worship a deity.

But many Pagans do. More relevantly to this question, many Pagans who don’t worship the Gods refrain from worship because of a misunderstanding about what worship is. That’s what I’d like to address here.

Many people – and not just Pagans – have the idea that worship is about self-debasement, about proclaiming the majesty and greatness of some deity and the worthlessness of the worshipper and of humans in general. This is wrong from a Christian perspective and very wrong from a Pagan one.

Our word “worship” comes from the Old English weorthscipe meaning “worthiness” and “an acknowledgment of worth.” To worship someone (or some thing) is to declare that they are worthy. We need not and should not declare ourselves unworthy to acknowledge that our Gods are worthy.

So to worship – in any religious tradition – is to say “this is worthy of our honor, our respect, and our devotion.”

Worship can take many forms. It can be elaborate rituals with offerings and hymns of praise. It can be quiet prayers and devotions. It can be acts of service dedicated to a deity and to Their virtues. Anything that proclaims “our Gods are worthy” is worship.

Worship requires reverence, an attitude of respect and awe. It doesn’t have to be serious and somber all the time, as those of us who worship Gods of the Wild will attest. But it needs a core of respect, not for the form of worship but for the person being worshipped. Without that respect and awe we’re just playing. And while there’s nothing wrong with play (it’s good and necessary, for adults as well as for children) it’s not worship.

My favorite quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson says: “a person will worship something … That which dominates will determine their life and character. Therefore it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.”

When we worship the Gods we become more God-like. And that’s a very good thing.

When you can’t practice “by the book”

I am reaching out to Hecate and Frigg. The resources I am using all talk about elaborate rituals and the use of candles and incense. We have pet birds that that get flight time – candles will be dangerous, and incense is deadly for them. Is there an alternative? Also our house is chaotic at the best of times. I am trying to just pray to them, talk to them, and my very poor attempt to meditate (I have ADHD). Any suggestions?

I love high ritual. I love rituals that are based on the worship and celebrations of our ancient ancestors. But this is one way, not the only way.

Individual traditions (both ancient and contemporary) have their own protocols that must be observed. But the Gods are not bound by human practices. In my experience, when you approach most any deity with respect and with a genuine desire for a reciprocal relationship, They respond positively.

So, yes, just pray. Just talk to Them. Listen for Their responses. Meditation works well for this, but so does ending your prayers with a few moments of silent attention. Make offerings. If you can’t leave them on your indoor altar, pour (or burn, or bury) them outside. Read and study, both what we have from ancient times and what we have from contemporary practitioners.

If in doubt, ask. Ask your question in prayer and listen for an answer. Or ask in divination. Or just pay attention. Over time, you’ll learn which forms of practice are most helpful in building and maintaining a relationship with the deities who call to you, or who you seek out.

Spirits from pop culture

Alanna Blackwood asked:

What are your thoughts on pop culture deities/spirits/entities? Fictional and non-fictional characters/celebrities apply.

And then Rowen Grove added:

What of folk who sincerely believe they have encountered an entity generally considered as fictional – say, Aragorn, or Qui Gon Jinn from Star Wars? I think such encounters are usually dismissed, but what if there is something to it? And if the individual in question is not only an egregore (thought form) but something on which, perhaps, the author picked up?

My thoughts on any sort of religious practice based on pop culture are generally unfavorable. People have a real, legitimate religious experience, but because they’re ignorant of traditional religious understandings of such experiences, they interpret them in the context of some novel or TV show or movie that they’re more familiar with.

But my standard practice is to take anyone’s religious experience at face value. So if someone tells me they encountered Aragorn or Qui Gon Jinn, I’m not going to tell them they’re making it all up. I’m also not going to waste my time with people who obviously are making it all up, either because they really want it to be true or because they’re being a troll. But that’s another topic for another time.

Perhaps, as Rowen mentioned, what these people encounter is an egregore: a thought-form, a spirit that arises from the thoughts and actions of multiple people. For at least as long as people have been talking about egregores, they’ve questioned whether they’re sentient beings or simply organized energies. I don’t have a enough first-hand experience to form a strong opinion – my best guess is mostly the second but occasionally the first.

Rowan also mentions “something on which the author picked up.” Anyone who’s ever written fiction knows that characters can take on a life of their own – I’ve seen some authors describe their writing process as “watching what they do and then writing it down.” Attempts to force characters to do something they don’t want to do often doesn’t end well. Not every time with every author – many are simply the imaginings of the writer. But some characters appear to be spirits who existed before the author ever started writing.

Writers have been using Gods as fictional characters for centuries, sometimes in-character and sometimes in ways best described as appropriation. Are real deities behind those characters? Sometimes I think They are, using fiction to remind people that They’re still here, and still able and willing to enter into divine relationships with people. The fictional character is an aspect of the non-fictional God.

And let’s not forget that some spirits pretend to be someone they’re not, either because they’re trying to manipulate a gullible human or because they’re tricksters and that’s just what they do.

So yes, people do occasionally encounter spirits that at least appear to be characters from pop culture and other fictional sources. There are many things those spirits could be.

As for me, I prefer to direct my thoughts (and especially my devotions) to more traditional Gods and spirits. But at times I’ve been inspired by fictional characters in ways that greatly exceed what you’d expect from someone’s imagination. I’m not going to worship them, but I am going to pay attention.

Comparing and contrasting Pagan traditions and seeking the right tradition for you

How does eclectic Paganism differ from more traditionalist paths such as Wicca, Heathenry, Druidry, etc., and from reconstructionist traditions.

This question is difficult to answer for numerous reasons.

Let me start by saying I respect the question and the questioner. It comes from a place of genuine curiosity, and – as best I can tell – from an attitude of seeking. Most of us were there at one point – we owe it to those who come after us to be as helpful as we can.

But Pagan traditions are notoriously difficult to classify and categorize. Wicca is witchcraft in the tradition of Gerald Gardner. But it’s also witchcraft in the tradition of Raymond Buckland and Scott Cunningham, and witchcraft in the tradition of Jason Mankey and Thorn Mooney (who are both Gardnerian Wiccans, but whose writing and teaching is more than Gardnerian).

There have been Druid orders in operation for close to 300 years. But the Western-Mystery-Tradition-through-a-Celtic-lens spirituality taught by OBOD is very different from the Indo-European polytheist religion taught by ADF. I’m a Druid who’s a member of both orders – my Druidry is influenced by both, and it’s also its own thing.

And remember: when it comes to how we see the world, most everyone inside the Big Tent of Paganism has more in common with each other than we do with the Christian monotheists who still dominate Western culture.

The basics of any modern Pagan tradition can be found in a 101 level book. After that, what you experience with any author, teacher, or group is going to vary, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot.

So to answer the question in the seeking spirit in which it was asked, my suggestion is to read one or two books in the traditions that interest you. See what seems to fit with you and what doesn’t. Then pick one and try it on. Practice it diligently, look for a group, see if it works for you. There is no one right way and there is no one best way. There is only the way that works for you.

Good luck on your journey.

Paganism: No Calls Required

Last updated on: February 14, 2022 at 7:37 pm By John Beckett

For what seemed like many years, the battle cry in the wider Pagan community was “you can’t tell me what to do!”

I rarely bother to tell anyone what to do because I know I have zero power to force them to do it. I often try to make a case for why doing this or that would be in someone’s best interests, but in the end whether they do it or not is up to them, as it should be.

Now it seems like the battle cry has shifted to “you can’t do that!”

This trend has taken a legitimate concern over cultural appropriation and blown it way out of proportion. Now anything and everything is called a “closed practice.” Or they say there’s a problem with someone associated with a tradition or a practice – a problem that may or may not have a factual basis – and so the whole tradition is now off limits.

I would blame it on TikTok, but I’m not on TikTok, and I see it on Twitter and Facebook. So it’s not just a TikTok thing.

And that leads to a question that showed up in my in-box last week:

This seems to be coming around a lot in groups. People are telling others that you must “hear a call” to be involved in anything Pagan, polytheist, or Wiccan. I’m wondering what your take is on this for people who do not hear a call? Is that required?

My short answer is this: no, no, and no!

Follow the path you’re called to

I frequently tell people “follow the path you’re called to.” This doesn’t mean a literal call… or at least, it doesn’t mean that the vast majority of the time.

For most of human history, people followed the religion of their parents, grandparents, and their parents before them. Their religion wasn’t something they believed, it was something they did and something they were. That’s still the case for some people in some traditions.

But we in the West live in the most religiously diverse culture in the history of the world. Many religions and traditions are actively seeking converts. Most – though not all – will welcome you if you have an interest.

Those of us who are dissatisfied with the religion of our childhood (often with good reason) have plenty of options. Where do we start?

What looks interesting? What looks like it aligns with your values? Whose stories resonate with you? Which God or Goddess do you need in your life?

When we find something that matches what we’re looking for, we often say we’re called to it. That’s not a literal call. It’s not an invitation from Cernunnos or the Morrigan, or for that matter from the Buddha or from Richard Dawkins.

A calling is a metaphor for a close match between your religious orientation and interests and the beliefs and practices of an existing or emerging tradition. It’s not a literal call.

Calls from Gods are amazing but not required

Which is not to say that literal calls don’t exist – they do. They’re powerful, they’re amazing, and they’re terrifying.

But they’re not the norm for polytheist religion, and they’re definitely not common for Paganism in general.

All that is required to be a polytheist is to worship one or more of the many Gods. That’s it. Many people talk about being called by this God or that Goddess. Some of those calls fit the definition in the previous section: the call is a match between what’s known about the God (through lore or through contemporary experience) and the interests of the person in question.

That type of call is absolutely valid. You do not need an invitation to worship Cernunnos. All you need is a resonance with the Lord of the Animals and Lord of the Hunt, a desire to embrace wildness, and a love for the natural world. And then a commitment to pray, meditate, make offerings, and perform other acts of devotion and service.

Most times when you approach a God in reverence, They respond. But not always, and not to everyone. Some people have a hard time hearing the Gods. That doesn’t mean their worship is inappropriate or unwanted – it just means they have a hard time discerning the subtle messages that are Their preferred form of communication. But the worship these people offer is just as valid and can be just as meaningful as anyone else’s.

Do you need a literal call to become a priest of a deity? You need something – you can’t just declare yourself to be a priest. Not that people don’t do that, because some do. But could that call be more of a gradual drawing closer in service to a God and less of a specific message? I tend to think it could.

But for the purposes of this question, no call is required to be a polytheist.

Individual groups may require an invitation

The original question mentioned Wicca. You do need an invitation to join a Wiccan coven – they’re private groups with their own requirements for membership. It’s the same for Wiccan traditions like the Gardnerians and the Alexandrians.

But the majority of Wiccans today are solitary practitioners who learned Wicca from books and from other solitary Wiccans. You don’t need a call to buy Raymond Buckland’s books – or Jason Mankey’s, or Thorn Mooney’s. You don’t need a call to practice what you learn in them.

You don’t need an invitation to become an OBOD Druid, but you do need to join the order, and then to work through the study program. Groups, organizations, and traditions have the right to draw their own boundaries and to set their own requirements for membership. No one is entitled to membership in any group, and acting like you’re entitled to it is a good way to get the door slammed in your face.

Beyond that, no one is a good fit for every group. If a group doesn’t want me, I’m better off knowing that up front rather than figuring it out after I’ve invested weeks or months with them.

People want something that’s theirs

I have no patience with people who just want to feel special and who make up silly ahistorical tests to exclude others. I wrote about gatekeeping a couple years ago in response to people like this.

On the other hand, I understand people who want something that’s theirs. They want a place where they belong, where their values are affirmed and worshipping their Gods in their way is a given.

I’d like to have that too. But not so that I can exclude those who haven’t heard the same kind of calls I’ve heard. Rather, so we can help others to be ready to hear those calls when they come, and to provide a home for those who never hear such calls but who love our Gods and share our values just the same.

We will never get those places by throwing up irrelevant gates around broad movements like Paganism, polytheism, and Wicca. We will only get them by building them.

No calls required

Paganism is a movement, not an institution. As such, it has no boundaries – only centers. On one hand, that makes Paganism difficult if not impossible to define. On the other hand, that means gatekeeping such as described here is nonsensical.

Polytheism is also a movement, though it can be defined at a generic level. In 2015 we killed a lot of pixels – and a few friendships – debating the boundaries of polytheism. But nowhere in that debate was anything about “you must be called.” And the idea of Gods calling people was extremely uncommon in ancient times.

Individual Pagan and/or polytheist traditions set their own boundaries. Some of them may require calls from Gods or spirits. But those are few. More common is the expectation that if you want to be a part of a tradition, you feel a call in that “alignment of interests” sense to the extent that you’re willing to embrace and support the tradition.

But in every group I know, the test isn’t “were you called?” but “are you willing to commit?”

As an experienced practitioner, it’s easy for me to roll my eyes at people who obviously don’t know what they’re talking about trying to keep people out of traditions they’re not a part of in the first place. But as the question in my in-box shows, some people are concerned about these claims. They wonder if they’re doing something wrong, or trying to do something that simply can’t be done.

They aren’t.

The people who promote these gatekeeping ideas – for whatever reason – are harming other people, and they’re harming our religious and spiritual movements.

As I said at the beginning of this post, I have no power to make them stop.

But I can tell them and everyone else just how wrong they are.

To The Pagans Who Think I’m Wasting My Time

Last updated on: September 10, 2020 at 6:47 am By John Beckett

On Tuesday I opened Facebook to find several people who I otherwise respect expressing dismay that some of us are arguing about the nature of the Gods “while the world burns.”

To say my initial reaction was unpleasant would be a gross understatement.

After taking a breath, I remembered that some of them live in areas impacted by wildfires. And the current situation is impacting all of us in different ways, none of them good. So I’m trying to be patient and understanding.

But I’m still disappointed in these comments. I think my best response is to simply follow the advice I give people who don’t like what I write. Namely, articulate a different perspective.

This post isn’t about why I think they’re wrong. Rather, this post is about why I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing all along.

We can care about more than one thing at a time

I work a regular job in the mainstream world. I write, speak, and teach on Paganism. I travel when I can, though obviously that hasn’t been much this year. I play with photography, and I care more about sports than I wish I did. And I have a local family of choice that I love dearly and spend as much time with as I can.

I’m spending more time on political matters than I ever have – and not just on Facebook. This is a critical election and I want to make sure I do everything I can to help remove Donald Trump from office. I’m concerned with issues of justice and I’m doing what I can to help build a better world here and now.

And while I sometimes rant about empty pop culture, I occasionally find myself thinking deeply about certain movies and TV shows.

I do all this, and everyone else does much the same. We can care about more than one thing at a time.

I care deeply about the Gods and other spiritual matters

Is devotion the most important thing in my life? I don’t know – I don’t tend to think in terms of what’s most important. There are some things that simply must be done, and devotion is on that list.

I swore an oath to the Morrigan and it matters deeply that I do the work She sets in front of me. Cernunnos has been a presence in my life since before I knew who He was and honoring that presence is deeply important to me. My first-hand experiences of Them and of other deities are among the strongest and most meaningful experiences in my life.

My Otherworldly experiences changed the way I see the nature of reality, and they changed my life for the better. I stopped worrying that maybe the fundamentalists are right. I stopped trying to find my identity in my paying job. I’m participating in something bigger than myself.

I understand that some Pagans are ambivalent – at most – about the Gods. That’s fine. Paganism isn’t Christianity – believing the “right” thing isn’t what’s most important.

But I couldn’t stop caring about the Gods if I wanted to… and I don’t want to.

My religion is a public religion

There’s a strong current in the mainstream culture that bleeds over into the Pagan community. It says that religion and spirituality should always be a private, individual thing. Believe what you want, practice how you want, but keep it behind closed doors.

This isn’t a good thing. Should we keep our music and art to ourselves? Should we keep our philosophy to ourselves? I don’t think any of the people who provided the impetus for this post would say we should keep our political opinions to ourselves.

The old saying about never discussing politics or religion isn’t how we keep the peace. It’s how we got ourselves into this situation where no one knows how to express a contrary opinion without turning it into a personal attack, and where no one knows how to hear a contrary opinion without feeling attacked. We need to learn how to have difficult conversations without creating enemies among people who should be friends and allies.

Besides, it’s not like I’m preaching on a street corner with a megaphone. I write on a religious blogging platform. I hold conversations on my own social media feeds, and on the feeds of those who want to discuss religious matters. If you aren’t interested, it’s pretty easy to avoid it.

There are parts of my practice that are not for public consumption. So I completely support the small but significant number of Pagans who want to practice a truly occult religion. But the vast majority of my religion is intended for all who are interested, whether that’s through public rituals, books, classes, or blog and social media posts advocating for Paganism as I see it.

Discourse and debate are how we advance our knowledge

There is a gross misunderstanding of the purpose of religious debate, especially in religions like Paganism that make no inherent claims of exclusivity.

Debate is not about demanding orthodoxy. It’s about comparing our experiences and our interpretations of them. It’s about presenting our ideas and letting others critique them – asking them to find what we’ve overlooked or misinterpreted, so we can refine them and make them better.

Gatekeeping is a real thing. But much of what is called gatekeeping is just people trying to negotiate the boundaries of a tradition. What does it mean to be a Pagan, or Druid, or a witch?

Religious questions are inherently uncertain. But some answers are better than others, while other answers are demonstrably wrong and/or harmful. Our discourse and debate helps us refine our thinking, even if we can never find The Truth.

I was going to blog on this today, but this post pushed it out. Look for more on this topic on Sunday.

It matters what we believe

We like to draw clear distinctions between Paganism and Christianity, especially Protestant Christianity and their doctrine of sola fide – we say “it doesn’t matter what you believe, it matters what you do.”

Certainly actions matter more than beliefs. But that doesn’t mean beliefs are irrelevant, because our beliefs influence our actions.

If you believe we are part of the Earth you will act differently than if you believe humans have dominion over the Earth. If you believe our ancestors live on and that someday you will become an ancestor, you will act differently than if you believe that when we die we are gone forever.

If you believe the Gods are real, distinct, individual beings you will act differently than if you believe the Gods are only in our heads. Differently, not worse – pantheists, monotheists, and atheists are just as ethical as polytheists.

But those differences matter and they deserve our respect, not our disdain.

The Pagan movement needs more hard differentiation

It became clear some years ago that we can’t define the Pagan movement, we can only describe it. But even our descriptions have proven insufficient to help people find the places where they want to gather… and the places they’d rather avoid.

If you find discourse on the nature of the Gods of such little importance you feel OK mocking it, you do not practice the same religion I do. And that’s OK. Paganism wasn’t one thing in ancient times, it’s not one thing now, and it will never be one thing.

But I’m starting to appreciate why many of my friends say things like “I’m not a Pagan, I’m a polytheist.” “I’m not a Pagan, I’m a witch.” “I’m not a Pagan, I’m a [fill in the blank].”

I’ve kept my Pagan identity because my religion has roots in the Pagan movement. But this is becoming harder and harder to maintain.

I’ll have more to say on this in a future post, whenever I figure out what I want to say.

Engage in dialogue or maintain respectful silence

To the Pagans who think spirited conversations about the Gods are a waste of time, this is why I see things differently. If you seriously think I’m wrong, feel free to make your case. I’m always open to new evidence, new experiences, and new ways of thinking.

But until someone convinces me otherwise, I’m going to continue to do what I’ve been doing.

I’m going to continue my daily and weekly devotions, and my more irregular ecstatic devotions. I’m going to theorize on the nature of the Gods and the universe and I’m going to discuss those theories with anyone who cares to converse. These are among the most important practices in my life.

I’m going to keep working magic, thinking about magic, and teaching magic – because I need it. And so do a lot of other people.

I’m going to write on political matters and work to build a better world here and now. This is one of the ways I put my values into action.

I’m going to comment on things I find interesting, using the same platforms and tools I’ve been using, because they work.

And tonight I’m going to watch Kansas City and Houston in the first NFL game of the season, because I enjoy it and I’m not too cool for sportsball.

You, of course, must do as you think best.

Gatekeeping, Boundaries, and Vetting

Last updated on: March 18, 2020 at 1:41 pm By John Beckett

I had a great time listening to Mat Auryn give a presentation on Psychic Witchcraft at the Austin Witchfest earlier this month. Toward the end of the presentation, Mat opened the floor (the ground?) for questions. Someone asked him about gatekeeping, and said that sometimes gatekeeping is necessary.

Mat gave a very good answer, which boils down to “gatekeeping is bad” “not every group is for everyone” and “if you won’t do the work necessary to find a teacher don’t whine about gatekeeping.”

I have some strong opinions on this subject – it was all I could do to keep from grabbing the microphone and answering the question myself. And while that would have been rude to Mat and to the people who came to hear him talk – not to mention unnecessary – I think there’s value in exploring this topic in more depth.

Gatekeeping is garbage

Gatekeeping is what happens when people without authority arbitrarily decide who is and isn’t worthy of being in a movement that they’re in. Note that I didn’t say “their movement.” They’re part of it, but it doesn’t belong to them and they have no right to say who does or doesn’t belong.

This is most common in fandoms, with people trying to decide who is and isn’t a “real” fan of a band or a movie or a TV show or something else. Here’s a good piece from Medium titled Gatekeeping Doesn’t Make You A God, It Just Makes You An Asshole.

In Paganism we often see gatekeeping around the question of who is or isn’t a witch. Now, I have opinions about what witchcraft is and isn’t, but as I told Devin Hunter on his podcast, that’s not my gate to keep. If you call yourself a witch, I’m not going to argue with you… but I am going to be here in case you decide you’re looking for more depth.

We also see people gatekeeping based on DNA and bloodlines. This is a bad idea that can have dangerous repercussions.

Gatekeeping is bad and we shouldn’t do it. But that doesn’t mean everything should be open to everyone with no qualifications.

Institutions need boundaries

Paganism is a movement. Like all movements, it has no boundaries but instead has a center (four of them) and a direction.

OBOD Druidry is an institution. Institutions have boundaries – either you’re in or you aren’t. Sign up for the course and you’re an OBOD member – and a Bard. But I wasn’t an Ovate until I completed the Bardic grade, applied for membership in the Ovate grove, and was accepted. The Ovate grade has boundaries and either you’re in or you aren’t.

The same is true of Gardnerian Wicca, Feri Witchcraft, and every other organization (no matter how disorganized!) in the world.

Boundaries are necessary to respect and preserve traditions and the identities that flow from them, and all institutions have the right – and the responsibility – to set boundaries as they see fit.

Of course, if you set boundaries to keep people out because of their race, sexual orientation, gender identity, and such, I have the right to decide that you’re a bad person whose institution should be ignored.

Some institutions aren’t for you

Not everybody belongs in every group. As a Pagan, I don’t belong in Christian or atheist groups. I have no desire to join a men’s group. If you do, more power to you… so long as you’re open to all men, and you’re not using “men’s group” as a pretext for excluding women.

Mat Auryn at Austin Witchfest – March 2020

Mat Auryn brought up the Anderson Feri tradition in his answer. Feri doesn’t have the visibility it had a few years ago, but it’s still a popular organization with more prospective students than available teachers. My Feri friends make their position clear: no one has a right to learn Feri and each teacher takes only those students they want to take. If you can’t find a teacher that means you aren’t meant to be Feri.

That’s not gatekeeping. That’s setting boundaries and maintaining them.

And also, too many people get their minds set on one particular tradition without really knowing if it’s right for them or not. Then it becomes like the college admissions process – people put too much emphasis on getting into the “right” school and not enough emphasis on learning all they can while they’re in the school they can get into. If you can’t find a teacher in the tradition you want, see if you might be just as happy in a tradition where teachers are available, or that aren’t taught one-on-one.

Vetting is necessary

Most of my public work has been with Denton CUUPS. As a UU group, CUUPS is open to anyone who shares our values and our interests. In my 17 years we’ve never told a prospective member “you don’t belong here.”

Not all groups are that open. My Gardnerian friends tell me a coven more like a family than a church or a social club. They don’t just want to know if you share their values – they want to know if you’re someone they’re comfortable inviting into their homes… and in the case of some covens, if they’re comfortable being naked with you.

If CUUPS is doing a public ritual, everyone is invited “who comes in love and friendship.” But if I’m doing an ecstatic polytheist ritual in my back yard, I want to make sure everyone who’s there sees the Gods the same way I do. Religious differences matter and respecting those differences sometimes means we can’t worship together.

Vetting isn’t gatekeeping. Vetting is making sure a group stays true to its mission and that everyone who joins it can and will support that mission.

There is a place for secrets

Sometimes I hear the charge of “gatekeeping!” when groups keep secrets and only reveal them to a “proper person properly prepared” (to borrow a line from the Freemasons).

Paganism has too many stories (and not all of them in the distant past) of people who were promised access to powerful secrets if they paid the leader in money, sex, or subservience. That’s not gatekeeping – that’s cultish abuse. If someone offers you a deal like this, walk away. That’s unethical behavior and the odds are very good their secrets aren’t worth having at any price.

On the other hand, there’s a place for progressive learning. In OBOD you don’t get the Ovate material till you finish the Bardic grade, and you don’t get the Druid material till you finish the Ovate grade. Initiations often have ordeals that rely in part on the element of surprise – those need to be kept secret.

More than that, though, it’s necessary to keep sacred things from being profaned (i.e. – made ordinary) by people who haven’t demonstrated they understand how to treat them with proper respect. I wrote a blog post about my oath to the Morrigan and I included a few lines from the oath’s preamble. I did not post the text of the oath, nor will I. Those words are sacred and intimate and they are not for the casually curious.

Gates challenged, boundaries respected, obstacles overcome

Sometimes what appears to be gatekeeping is exactly that – an illegitimate attempt to keep people out because they don’t meet somebody’s arbitrary standards of who belongs and who doesn’t (which almost always means “I only want people like me”). Gatekeeping should be called out and challenged.

Other times what seems like gatekeeping is really a legitimate boundary that needs to be respected.

But sometimes what we encounter is less gatekeeping and more an entrance exam. In his response, Mat said if you really want a Feri teacher (or a teacher in any other tradition) work magic to find one. And then don’t turn down the one who shows up because they’re not as convenient as you prefer.

Too many people talk about what they’re “meant to be” as though that’s supposed to be a free ticket into anything and everything, whether they belong or not. It isn’t. If you’re meant to be something it means you’ll keep trying to find a way until you make it.

And if you don’t make it, maybe you’re really meant to be something else.