Divination for 2022

The cards always tell the truth. It’s just that sometimes the reader has a hard time discerning what that truth is. Or as in the past two years, a hard time accepting the truth they see.

My Divination for 2020 had the cards to show what was coming, but I didn’t have the context to see it – I couldn’t imagine things would get as bad as they got.

I promised myself – and all of you – that I wouldn’t make the same mistake in 2021. When the Ten of Swords showed up I said “This is the third card that repeats from last year’s reading. I minimized it then – I won’t do that again.”

The main theme in last year’s reading was “much of 2020 will continue.” That certainly happened. The Wheel of Fortune and its randomness were in the central “heart of the matter” position, and the Ten of Swords and its pain were in “the final outcome.” That wasn’t a positive reading. I tried to put a positive spin on it, encouraging people to “take steps to change course and create a different future.”

Divination works best when it’s specific and focused. Readings for a wide community for a whole year are necessarily vague. But this was my reading, and I paid attention. I took a few different steps and I created a slightly better future: 2021 was a better year than 2020 – though still far from a good year. Could I have done better with more and different countermeasures? Perhaps. That’s something to keep in mind for 2022.

This is one of the reasons I advise everyone to keep records of your divinations. You can go back and see what you got right and what you missed, and learn to read better next time. But also, you can see what you did to strengthen or mitigate the future you saw coming. Divination shows what will be, not what must be.

So with 2021 in the rear view mirror, let’s take a look at 2022.

As always, my question for the cards was “what does the new year hold for me and mine?” The closer you are to me, the more this applies to you. If you do ritual with me in my back yard, it’s very relevant to you. If you follow a Pagan polytheist path like me, it applies a fair amount. If you’re a casual blog reader, less so. But the fact that you’re reading this post means there’s some connection between you and me, so I would not recommend dismissing it as irrelevant.

I’m reading with the Celtic Tarot, which seems to speak to me better than any other deck. I’m using the Celtic Cross spread, because it’s the best I’ve found for broad readings such as this.

The first thing that stands out is that there are two cards repeated from last year’s readings. And guess what – both of them were also in the 2020 reading.

The Six of Shields moved from “what is coming” in 2020 to “what is passing” in 2021 to “the heart of the matter” in 2022. This is a card of giving, and especially in this deck, a card of balanced giving. This is giving what you can, not giving till it hurts.

It’s supported by the Page of Shields, which is in the “in the far past” position, though I think its position in the Celtic Cross is of minimal importance here. What I see is the Page meditating on her shield, which forms a foundation for the person in the Six of Shields to aid those who need it.

The other card repeated in all three readings is the dreaded Ten of Swords. It went from “you as you see yourself” in 2020 (who among us didn’t feel like the Ten of Swords many times in 2020?) to “the final outcome” in 2021, which I called a painful ending that could be avoided with proper action. This year it’s in the “major influence” position.

I learned my lesson in 2020 – I’m not going to sugar coat this card. But as I read it here, it’s important to see the whole card. A bad situation, defeat, severe injury… but also the beginnings of a sunrise. There is hope in this card. Not “it’s going to be OK” hope but rather “you can get through this even though it hurts like hell” hope.

The Six of Cauldrons in the “what you seek” position is pretty clear. After everything we’ve been through in the past couple of years, we just want some nice pretty flowers. In his guidebook to the Celtic Tarot, Kristoffer Hughes calls this the nostalgia card. It’s a nice thought, but it’s not happening.

The core of this reading is in the Page of Shields, the Six of Shields, and the Ten of Swords. Deep spiritual practice, giving (especially the kind of giving that allows people to build their own security) in an environment that’s going to look and feel an awful lot like the past two years.

So, what do we do about it? The Knight of Swords in the “what is passing” position says it’s time to stop fighting foolhardy battles. The Eight of Cauldrons in the “what is coming” position says it’s time to move on. I call this card “I like it here – why do I have to leave?” We may not like where we are here at the beginning of 2022, but at least it’s familiar. At least it’s predictable. Something new could be worse.

Or it could be the rocky path to something deeper and more meaningful.

The Seven of Swords is in the “you as you see yourself” position. In 2019 I wrote a meditation on this card (I’ve got to quit titling blog posts “meditations” – no one reads them) where I said that while I cannot defend the ethics of espionage, it happens, and those who don’t do it are at a disadvantage to those who do.

Stop charging into battle like a knight on a dragon. Move on to something deeper, something more spiritual, something more magical. There is work that needs to be done that’s dirty, but necessary.

No one goes to the witch who lives deep in the forest if they have other options. Witches do what is necessary, even when it isn’t all pretty and clean and legal. What kind of witch do you want to be?

The final three cards are brighter… quite literally. The Three of Wands speaks of opportunity and the need for action. I’ll have more to say about opportunity in next Tuesday’s blog post. The Nine of Wands reflects the fear of further injury, but also the confidence that such injuries will not be fatal. And the final outcome is the Ace of Wands: the essence of inspiration and new beginnings. Great good can come from this year, but we have to make it through this year first.

You may have noticed that there are no major arcana in this reading. That’s unusual, though not extraordinary (the odds are 36 to 1). When I have a reading with no major arcana in it, that typically means that it deals with the small stuff and with ordinary effort.

What we accomplish in 2022 will not be done with flash and dramatics. There will be no grand revelations, no return to the past, no deus ex machina deliverance. It will be done with quiet spiritual practice, with a commitment to deeper things, and by doing the kind of things that require careful planning and stealth.

After the last two years, I’ll take it.

An October Viewing and Reading Challenge

October 5, 2021 By John Beckett

October is the best month and it’s not even close.

The days are shorter and the temperatures are cooler. All four major team sports are in action. Samhain and Halloween are this month, and the Winter Holidays (with their days off from work) are getting close. And the movies on TV get a lot better… most years, anyway.

I’ve done October movie posts before. In 2016 I wrote 31 Movies for Halloween, where I listed my favorite horror movies from what I consider the four major eras of supernatural filmmaking. In 2019 I wrote 13 Horror Movies I’m Watching This October, where I scanned the schedule of TCM (Turner Classic Movies) and pulled out the ones I really wanted to see. I think I actually watched them all, except for A Bucket of Blood.

I was going to do something similar this year. But when I looked at the schedules I was rather disappointed. None of the streaming services (that I have) have much I’m excited about. The basic cable channels seem geared toward kids. I like The Addams Family movies too, but that’s not what I’m looking for right now.

Even TCM’s schedule is disappointing. They have a very good lineup for Halloween weekend, but the rest of the month is rather sparse. I could only come up with nine movies to recommend, and I’ve already written about six of those.

And that brings us to the point of this post.

I’ve been binging comfort movies

I’ve been comfort-watching ever since the pandemic began. I’ve been watching the same movies over and over and over again.

As I write this, Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) is in my Blu-ray player. Before that, it was Van Helsing (2004), the Underworld movies (except Rise of the Lycans – I can’t handle the werewolf abuse even though I’m not a werewolf fan), and the two Mummy movies with Rachel Weisz and Brendan Fraser. Before it left Netflix, I was watching Penny Dreadful pretty much on a loop.

The psychological websites and articles I found say this is a common thing. The familiar is comfortable, particularly at a time when so much is unfamiliar and uncomfortable. We already know the stories, so they take less energy to watch. We know how they end, so we know we won’t be disappointed even if we don’t like the ending (like Penny Dreadful). And we watch them simply because we like them – while I like to experiment with food, I never get tired of a good pizza.

There’s nothing wrong with binging comfort movies. But I was expecting to binge old favorites all month, and there’s not much for me this year.

I’ve been avoiding new movies and shows

Enjoying your old favorites is fine. But at some point, you turn into the video equivalent of the people who only listen to the music that was popular when they were in high school. You miss out on a lot of good stuff.

I haven’t watched a new TV show since The Nevers in April. I watched the new The Suicide Squad movie in August, but I watched it on my computer where I could play games in the slow spots – and it was a sequel. I’ve been unwilling to risk any time on something new.

And while I’ve managed to work my to-be-read pile down in recent months, I haven’t read much fiction.

Solution: a viewing and reading challenge

Writing a classic horror movie post this year would just be more of the same. I need something different. I need something new.

I need an October viewing and reading challenge.

I really am busy. I’m teaching an on-line class, I’m blogging, and my local groups are trying to do more in-person stuff. My paying job just got busier, and likely will remain so for the rest of the year. I can’t commit to something huge.

But I don’t need something huge. I just need enough to break me out of this comfort movie routine.

So here’s the challenge. During the month of October I want to watch one new movie and one new series. I want to read one new book. And I want to watch one old movie that either I haven’t seen, or I haven’t seen in so long I don’t remember anything about it.

Here are my choices.

A new movie: A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night

This was the hardest choice to make, because I don’t like most contemporary horror movies. I don’t like gore and I don’t like jump scares – if I want realistic horror I’ll watch the news. I want supernatural fantasy – the more gothic (or just goth) the better. And nobody’s made a good Dracula movie since 1992.

Horror movie reviews are next to useless, whether professional or amateur. Everybody wants something different from a horror movie and too many reviewers are quick to bash anything that doesn’t satisfy their particular desires.

And then there’s the problem of a million streaming services, all wanting a separate monthly fee [insert rant here].

But after a bit of googling, watching some trailers, and reading enough reviews to find common themes, I settled on A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night. From IMDb:

In the Iranian ghost-town Bad City, a place that reeks of death and loneliness, the townspeople are unaware they are being stalked by a lonesome vampire.

It’s black and white, in Persian with English subtitles (although it was filmed in California). That’s a bit artsy for my tastes. But I’ve heard good things about it since it came out in 2014. And how can you argue with a movie billed as “the first Iranian vampire Western”? I’ve been waiting for it to show up on cable, but it’s available to rent on Amazon Prime for $3.99 – that’s not much of a risk.

Second choices: Bloodthirsty (a werewolf movie on Amazon) and Blood Red Sky (vampires vs. terrorists on Netflix). I’ll probably watch them both eventually.

A new series: Brand New Cherry Flavor

This was an easy choice. Actually, pushing myself to watch this series was one of the reasons behind this post. Here’s the IMDb blurb:

Lisa Nova, an aspiring film director in the sun-drenched but seamy world of 1990 Los Angeles, embarks on a mind-altering journey of supernatural revenge that gets nightmarishly out of control.

Every witch or otherwise magical friend who’s mentioned this show has had good things to say about it. I found this very positive Teen Vogue review by Lisa Stardust, who’s a magical practitioner herself.

But I’ve been unwilling to invest the time in something new, preferring to watch my comfort movies over and over again. Thus this challenge.

Brand New Cherry Flavor is available on Netflix. There are eight episodes that average 43 minutes each – that’s a weekend with plenty of time for something else.

Time to get watching.

Second choice: Motherland: Fort Salem. I’m hearing good things from witches about this one too, but the military context isn’t particularly appealing to me. And it’s really intended for a younger audience. I’m unlikely to watch it, but maybe.

A new book: The Historian

I asked my Facebook friends for recommendations and I got a ton. The post is public – you can read through them if you like. Many of them didn’t meet the specifications I listed (supernatural fiction, fairly new, etc.) but plenty did.

I think A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness got the most recommendations. It also got the most negative comments.

I picked The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. It’s a Dracula story that mixes the historical Vlad the Impaler with contemporary vampire lore, not entirely unlike what Bram Stoker did in 1897.

It’s a little older than what I wanted (published in 2005). But I bought it when it first came out based on reviews and recommendations – it’s been sitting on my shelves ever since. It’s not a short book: 642 pages. With everything else going on, it may be a real challenge to get it finished this month.

But following the principle of “read what you’ve got before you buy more” it’s the right choice.

Second choice: The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow. Of all the recommendations on Facebook, this is the one that most grabbed my interest. It’s not a short book either (528 pages) but if I get back into the habit of reading regularly I’ll pick it up before too long.

An old movie that’s new to me: Count Dracula

This 1977 BBC film with Louis Jourdan as the Count is generally considered the most faithful adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel ever made. I remember watching it on PBS as a teenager. I remember being vaguely disappointed, but I don’t remember why. I had read the book by then, so I knew the story would be different from the 1931 Lugosi film. It may have been the 1970s TV production quality. Or my expectations may have been so high nothing could have lived up to them.

In any case, it’s time to watch it again. And it’s available on Amazon Prime.

Second choice: Taste the Blood of Dracula. This 1970 Hammer Film was the fourth starring Christopher Lee as Dracula. I’m sure I’ve seen it, but the IMDb summary doesn’t ring a bell. TCM is showing it the afternoon of October 21, and Amazon has it to rent for $1.99.

Want to take the challenge?

I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been watching my old favorites to the exclusion of new material. If your movies and books have gotten stale – if you’re missing out on new stuff – take the October Viewing and Reading Challenge.

Watch one new movie.
Watch one new TV series.
Read one new book.
And watch one old movie that you’ve forgotten.

Tell us about your choices – and how you liked them – in the comments.

After completing the challenge, I wrote How It Went: Four Reviews from the October Viewing and Reading Challenge.

How to Hack Your Worldview

August 1, 2021 By John Beckett

One of the things I consistently emphasize is the importance of worldview – our foundational assumptions about the world and the way it works. These are the things we assume are true in part because they seem self-evident, but mainly because they’re what we were taught as children and we never thought to question them.

It’s like the story I told in the very first Under the Ancient Oaks video. I was talking about Paganism to someone who knew very little about it, and at the end he said “what I really want to know is how Paganism says you get to heaven.” He assumed that the purpose of all religion was to make sure you end up in the good place after you die and not the bad place. That assumes there are only two possibilities for an afterlife, which in turn assumes that there even is an afterlife.

These unproven and mostly unprovable assumptions severely limit our thinking. If something is counter to our worldview, we will reflexively assume it’s not possible and so we won’t consider it.

Changing a worldview is hard. It took years of struggle and practice for me to change mine. Last year I taught an online class titled Building a New Myth, about how to build a new worldview. Based on the feedback, I think it did a good job of teaching the techniques necessary to build a good, robust, resilient worldview. It’s on-demand – it’s still there if you’d like to take it. But it requires that you already understand the need for new foundational assumptions.

What if you just can’t get past your current worldview? What if you know (or just suspect) your core beliefs are wrong but you can’t figure out how they’re wrong?

Then you need to hack your worldview.

I’m a bit reluctant to use the term “hack.” It was overused in the 2010s – it became a buzzword that all too often meant doing questionably ethical things to exploit the system in ways not available to most people. But the core definition of hacking – using a back-door method to reprogram a system to do what you want it to do – perfectly fits what we’re trying to do here.

Does something deep inside whisper that there’s more to life than what you’ve always been told? Are you dissatisfied with your spiritual path but you can’t imagine leaving it? Does your current religion insist that you believe things you know aren’t true, but you’re afraid to challenge its authority?

Then it’s time to hack your worldview.

Requirements for hacking

There is only one requirement for spiritual hacking, but it’s an absolute requirement: honesty. You must be completely and totally honest – mainly with yourself. You must value honest answers over easy answers, over comfortable answers, and over simple answers.

A piece of the truth may be simple, but the whole truth is always complex and multi-layered.

No question can be off limits. No question is too unorthodox, too heretical, too blasphemous. Every question deserves investigation, contemplation, and where possible, an answer.

And we must be honest with our answers. No question is unaskable, but some questions are unanswerable.

When it comes to religion and metaphysics, most questions can only be answered tentatively. We must not assume certainty where all we have is probability. We must also avoid the error of assuming that in the absence of conclusive proof, all ways are equally true. Some answers are more likely than others, and some answers are obviously wrong.

Honesty demands that we examine all the evidence, including the messy evidence, including the painful evidence, including the evidence of our own religious experiences. The idea that the only real evidence is tangible evidence is itself a foundational assumption – one that I’ve found to be decidedly unhelpful.

Will you be honest with yourself? Will you ask hard questions, and refuse to settle for easy answers? Will you go where the evidence leads?

Then let’s get hacking.

What do you believe?

The hardest part of examining a worldview is figuring out what to examine. Most foundational assumptions aren’t just unstated, they’re unrecognized. They’re just the way things are. But we have to start somewhere.

Start by asking yourself “what do I believe?”

That’s a very open-ended question. “I believe chocolate is better than vanilla” is a perfectly valid belief, but it’s not particularly helpful here. Try to limit your questions to matters of religion, philosophy, and metaphysics, especially the “big questions” centered around life, death and what comes afterwards, the nature of the Gods, good and evil, and such.

Write your answers down. You’re looking for a list of bullet points, not a creed. This is best done in a computer file (Word document, text file, etc.) where you can easily add, delete, and insert things where you need them.

You’ll need multiple sessions. Work on this for 20 or 30 minutes, then when you start to get stuck, set it down and go do something else. Come back in an hour or in a day. Don’t worry about getting a complete list – you can always add to it later (and you probably will).

When you feel like you’ve got most of your important beliefs catalogued, it’s time to move on to the next step.

Why do you believe that?

Now go line by line and ask yourself “why do I believe that?”

“Because it’s true” is not an acceptable answer. Even if that’s correct, it’s too easy an answer. What makes you think it’s true? What evidence convinces you? What logic persuades you? What experiences confirm your belief?

What you will likely find is that some beliefs are supported not by evidence but by traditions, myths, and other beliefs – things that may very well be valid reasons to believe something, but that are still contingent on something else.

Add these to your list of beliefs and ask yourself why you believe them. Continue the process as long as you keep uncovering more beliefs.

The goal is to come up with a list of core beliefs – your foundational assumptions about life and everything in it.

Why do you not believe something else?

Now the process gets harder. For each belief – about the Gods, about death, about values and ethics, about whatever beliefs are important to you – consider alternatives.

For example, if you believe in many Gods, why do you not believe in one God, or in no Gods? Other people believe these things – why are you convinced you’re right and they’re wrong?

This is where the real hacking begins. If you’ve worked through your beliefs diligently and honestly, you’ve got a short list of concepts, ideas, and values that make sense to you – and that are meaningful to you. But other people who are just as intelligent and reasonable as you – at least on average – believe different things. Why are you right and they’re wrong?

There are two dangers here. The first is to assume you’re smarter and better educated and that everyone else is simply wrong. That way lies religious intolerance, ethnocentrism, racism, and other cultural ills.

The other danger is to assume that since other people have good reasons for believing different things, any answer is a good answer and it doesn’t matter what we believe. While integrity demands that we hold our beliefs loosely and always be open to new evidence and new lines of thinking, the benefits of beliefs come when we take one answer and explore it as deeply as we can.

When you examine alternative beliefs honestly and fairly, the false certainty most of us have around our foundational assumptions starts to crumble.

Learned beliefs vs inherent beliefs

Most of our beliefs have an external source: our parents, the religion of our childhood, the mainstream culture, or a process of study and evaluation. But sometimes you keep asking “why?” and the only answer you can come up with is “I just do.”

In 2018 I explored the idea of Paganism as an Orientation. When I rejected fundamentalism, why did I never consider atheism? How have I always felt that Nature is sacred? Why did I always believe the Divine has a feminine side, even though I had “God the Father” pounded into my head over and over again?

Why do most children believe in magic, and only stop when it’s “educated” out of them?

There are very few truly inherent beliefs, and the vast majority of them are very high-level. Polytheism may be humanity’s default religious position, but “I should worship the Morrigan” is not.

Be careful of jumping to this conclusion too quickly. But while most beliefs are learned, a few are something we’re born with.

Learn your history

Most people are ignorant about their own religious history.

I grew up going to Sunday School every week without fail. But I didn’t learn basic Christian history until I did some reading on my own in my late 20s. I didn’t learn the history of some of the doctrines of evangelical fundamentalism until I was well on my Pagan path and was trying to deal with the religious baggage of my youth.

I’ve tried to do better with my Paganism and polytheism. This is one of the main reasons why I disagree with many who say “I’m a polytheist, not a Pagan.” While my religion differs significantly from the generic Paganism we see on Instagram, it came out of the modern Pagan movement. I need to acknowledge that lineage, for better and for worse.

The goal here is to learn the history of your beliefs. Where did these ideas come from? How did they develop over time? Were they a response to a particular set of circumstances? Did they develop organically, or were they imposed by those with power?

Beware the mythologized history that religions (and politicians) often promote. That means you need to read professional historians. Now, historians can be biased, and sometimes they get things wrong. Newer history is usually better.

The main benefit of reading history is that you learn that beliefs and concepts weren’t handed down by the Gods – they came out of a human process, and that same human process can change them if necessary.

What to do with a hacked worldview

If you’ve worked through this process diligently and honestly, any false certainty you may have had should be gone. That’s a good thing. But there’s a good chance that you discovered at least a few of your foundational assumptions are something you can no longer believe.

Now you have a vacuum – you need to fill it with something. Because if you don’t, sooner or later those old beliefs will creep back in.

I have a class for that, but the purpose of this post isn’t to sell classes.

I recommend starting with science and the findings of science. Science doesn’t have all the answers, and it can’t answer questions of meaning. But what it does, it does well.

Study Nature, and learn to see the personhood of all beings.

Explore the beliefs and practices of our ancestors, especially our Pagan and polytheist ancestors.

Approach one or more of the Many Gods. Learn Their stories, embody Their virtues, promote Their values.

And out of all that, decide what new foundational assumptions make sense to you and help you live a better life.

Most people don’t even recognize that they have a worldview. They believe what they were taught or what they picked up from the wider society. They think that’s “just the way things are.” But that approach can hold us back – it held me back for many years.

Examining your worldview is hard work. But it’s useful, helpful work – even if you have to hack it.

Who Put the Odal Rune on the CPAC Stage?

March 1, 2021 By John Beckett

Over the weekend pictures started flying around social media: the stage at CPAC was in the shape of the Odal rune. And while there is nothing nefarious about runes – they are sacred to Heathens and to many other people – as always, context matters.

And the context here screams “Nazis.”

CPAC is the Conservative Political Action Conference, an annual convention hosted by the American Conservative Union. It began in 1974 – Ronald Reagan gave the first keynote address. Whatever it may have been in its earlier years, it’s now an event where Republicans who want to run for President go to try to form an emotional attachment with the far right. This year’s speakers included Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, Mike Pompeo, and Donald Trump, in his first speech since leaving the White House.

Themes included repetition of the lie that the election was stolen, attacking moderate Republicans like Mitt Romney and Liz Cheney, and wallowing in victimhood.

And it included a golden statue of Donald Trump.

This is what passes for a conservative movement these days. William F. Buckley is spinning in his grave.

But there are lines that even far right populists cannot cross, at least not if they want to get elected to national office. And openly embracing Naziism is one of those lines. For now, anyway.

The head of the American Conservative Union denied the connection, saying “stage design conspiracies are outrageous and slanderous.”

Still, the stage at CPAC is in the shape of a Nazi symbol. Who put it there, and why?

Norse runes do not belong to Nazis

Historically, runes began as a system of writing among Germanic peoples in the early centuries of the common era. Mythically, the runes were a gift from Odin, who hung himself on the World Tree for nine nights in order to gain their wisdom.

Runes in their historical context: Runenstein von Kingittorsuaq – National Museum of Denmark. Used under Creative Commons license.

The Nazis appropriated the runes in their attempt to build a strong national identity. They were used as insignias by the SS (the Schutzstaffel – literally “protection squad” – the Nazi-est of the Nazis) for several of their divisions.

At a high level, the Odal rune represents ancestors and kinship. In recent years it’s been appropriated by white supremacists, in part to support their claim of “European heritage” and in part because they can’t get away with using the swastika.

The swastika is a sacred symbol in several religions and cultures, but it is lost to us for at least another hundred years. It’s connection with Naziism and the Holocaust may mean it’s lost to us forever. Those who attempt to reclaim it (almost always in the context of “you can’t tell me what to do”) ignore the evil it represents and the harm it brings to Jews and many others.

Odal and the other runes are not yet so associated with Nazis and white supremacists that they are unusable in the mainstream world. Those of us in the Pagan movement – whether we are Heathen or not – have an obligation to put these sacred symbols in their proper context and to educate the general public on their historical origins and uses.

The CPAC version of the Odal rune is only found in Naziism

The picture below is from Denton CUUPS 2018 Gleichentag Circle. We made an Odal rune and placed it on our altar as a symbol of our connections to our ancestors. We also explained its misuse so our participants would understand why this is different from its misuse by white supremacists.

This is the historical shape of the Odal rune. The version on the CPAC stage includes serifs – “wings” or “feet.” The Odal rune was never written like that in a historical or mythical setting – it is only found in Nazi insignia.

So the stage isn’t a Norse rune or a Heathen rune or an ancient rune. It’s a Nazi rune.

The odds this was an accident are incredibly long

The Wild Hunt had a very good piece on this on Saturday, including more pictures – I encourage you to read it. Here are two key quotes:

The wings of the CPAC stage lead nowhere … The red triangle toward the rear of the stage similarly serves no apparent functional use. This means that the set was intentionally designed this way, not for its utility, but for its visual appeal – an image that looks, unquestionably, like the odal rune.

And also:

It beggars belief that the design went through approval and construction without anybody realizing what it looked like – and how it has been used, in the past and in the modern-day.

Jumping to conclusions is one way conspiracy theories get started, and I hate conspiracy theories. At the same time, I see no way this was an accident. Someone intentionally designed this stage in the shape of a Nazi symbol. Who was it?

I see three possibilities.

A resistance troll?

The people who built that stage did not design it. They had a plan, and that plan was drawn by someone, based on a design by someone else. It would be a fairly simple thing trace it back to its ultimate origin. I do not expect that will happen. I expect the connection will either continue to be denied, or it will be blamed on someone not part of CPAC.

There’s a whole industry built up around conventions and large events – it’s entirely possible that stage design was contracted out to a third party with no apparent political affiliations. And it’s also possible that the designer given this job said “let’s show the whole world that you people are Nazis and Nazi sympathizers.”

But while that’s possible, designers do not have final say on any design. Ultimately someone – likely many someones – at CPAC approved the stage layout. As The Wild Hunt said, it beggars belief that no one noticed this.

Plus, I find it difficult to believe that CPAC didn’t thoroughly vet their contractors for political purity. The events industry is suffering heavily from the Covid pandemic – CPAC had their pick of anyone.

So while this is possible, unless someone with receipts to back it up takes credit for it, I think it’s highly unlikely.

An anti-Semitic dog whistle?

The far right is not monolithic. Some speak of a “Judeo-Christian heritage” and think of Jews as allies in their war against Muslims and atheists (and Pagans, if there were enough of us to matter to them). The Evangelical right believes a strong Israel is a prerequisite for the second coming of Jesus. They support Jews (or at least, certain kinds of Jews) as they attempt to bring about the end of the world – after which they think all the “good Jews” will convert to Christianity and the rest will burn in Hell.

Others on the far right are openly anti-Semitic. Let’s not forget the “very fine people” in Charlottesville who were chanting “Jews will not replace us.” Let’s not forget the Capitol insurrectionists who wore shirts saying “Camp Auschwitz” and “6MWE” – 6 million wasn’t enough.

The head of CPAC may very well have been telling the truth when he said “CPAC proudly stands with our Jewish allies.” But not everybody in his movement shares his feelings.

It is entirely possible that an actual Nazi somewhere in the CPAC organization designed this stage to say “as soon as we take over, my side is coming for the Jews.”

If this is true we will never know it. The far right is purging itself of people who aren’t sufficiently loyal to Donald Trump, not people who support genocide.

MAGA magicians?

Historians disagree on the extent to which the Thule Gesellschaft practiced magic in support of Hitler’s regime. I suspect much of that disagreement has to do with the historians’ own thoughts on magic. Still, we know there were several serious magicians and occultists in high Nazi circles. Aleister Crowley claimed he fought them with magic. And Operation Cone of Power was almost certainly a historical event, to one degree or another.

The vast majority of Pagans, witches, and other magicians are politically liberal. A significant minority are conservative. Some are openly fascists and/or gleeful Trump supporters. There can be no doubt that some people are working magic to support the philosophies, policies, and personalities advocated at CPAC.

This was the first place my mind went when I saw the CPAC stage – this is a magical working.

Because it is elevated, the layout of the stage would not be obvious to those in attendance… and few in attendance would be likely to recognize the Odal rune in any case. It takes a different, literally higher perspective to see what’s there. But the speakers would be standing on it, a connection to the “glorious past” of white supremacy and the “interrupted vision” of Hitler and the Nazis. Pictures of the stage would carry this connection and its message far and wide… and they are.

That’s why Thorn Coyle and others put a red “no” circle over the image before sharing.

Is there a MAGA version of the Thule Gesellschaft? I’d be shocked if there weren’t a least a few groups styling themselves as such. I have a hard time thinking any of them are big enough and powerful enough to dictate the stage design to the American Conservative Union… though that may be wishful thinking on my part.

But it is entirely possible that one such individual is in a key position at CPAC. And given the facts as we know them at the moment, I think that’s most likely.

There are more important issues than the shape of the stage

It is unlikely we will ever know the truth of how the CPAC stage was built in the shape of a Nazi rune. And as concerned as I am with the possibility that people with some competency in magic have this kind of influence and access, I’m more concerned with the Trumpism being preached from the stage.

Numerous CPAC speakers insisted “we aren’t going anywhere.” We should believe them. 75 million people voted for Donald Trump even after seeing how he governed for four years – how many would vote for someone with similar ideas but a smoother delivery?

And while we’re at it, we need to hold our current less-worse President accountable. I’m willing to give him some time to deliver on his campaign promises, but bombing Middle Eastern countries is only going to make things worse.

Ultimately, we will defeat Trumpism only if we can show the largely unideological center that we have a better way.

Runenstein Blauzahn – Jelling, Denmark. Photo by Jürgen Howaldt. Used under Creative Commons license.

Runes are the gift of Odin to the people – they do not belong to Nazis, white supremacists, or Trump worshippers. This misuse, this appropriation, does not change that, no matter where it came from.

For good, academically-sound information on the runes, see Futhark – the International Journal of Runic Studies. And also The Rune Cast, a podcast about runes and the people who read and wrote them.

Update

On March 3, the design firm that created the CPAC stage said they “had no idea that the design resembled any symbol, nor was there any intention to create something that did.”

I take them at their word. It’s possible the designer had seen the Odal rune and forgotten about it, but the shape remained in their memory. As a writer, I know that happens with words all the time. It’s also possible the designer drew this randomly – convergent evolution does happen from time to time.

Still, the stage design is in the shape of the Odal rune, Tom Swiss’ very rational argument to the contrary notwithstanding. And in any case, the biggest problem at CPAC wasn’t the shape of the stage, it was the Trumpism being preached from the stage.

In Defense of the Celtic Cross

January 26, 2021 By John Beckett

As I often do when reading Tarot, my Divination For 2021 used the Celtic Cross layout. It’s a common spread frequently included in the “little white book” that comes with most decks. I don’t use it all the time, but I use it a lot, especially when I’m reading for other people.

Coincidentally – I think – some of my Tarot-reading friends expressed their dislike of the Celtic Cross. This Twitter thread includes comments from Thorn Mooney, Laura Tempest Zakroff, and Christopher Penczak. Those are three very skilled and experienced witches and readers – none of them like the Celtic Cross. I’ve seen other readers (who I won’t name) whose dislike degenerated into ridicule of people using it. (To be clear: Thorn, Tempest, and Penczak did no such thing – they simply said “I don’t like it” – and that’s a perfectly valid opinion.)

I’ve had good results from the Celtic Cross. And while I’m not an evangelist for it – or for any other spread, or divination method – I would hate to see people abandon it just because some don’t like it.

The Celtic Cross with the Waite-Smith deck. One downside to the Celtic Cross – it doesn’t lend itself to the low and wide pictures needed for blog illustrations.

The weaknesses of the Celtic Cross

In the Twitter thread, Thorn Mooney linked to her 2018 blog post titled The Celtic Cross is Kind of Terrible. I encourage you to read Thorn’s post. It’s a good and reasonable critique, not a hit piece. Here’s a key quote:

Whatever the Celtic Cross is, it is most surely neither ancient nor Celtic. But even if it were, it would still be a crappy spread for beginners.

Like Thorn, I tried learning Tarot on my own by reading the little white book. Also like Thorn, I had little success with it – the fact that I was trying to use a 10-card spread had a lot to do with that.

I’ve written previously about How I Learned To Read Tarot. I had to take an in-person class twice before it finally stuck. If I ever taught a Tarot class, I would spend about six weeks just studying the cards. Then we’d practice with 1-card draws, 3-card spreads, and 5-card spreads. Only after all that would we get into larger spreads – and the Celtic Cross is only one of many such layouts.

I grew up thinking “real” Tarot meant reading from the Waite-Smith deck using the Celtic Cross layout. That’s simply wrong.

But there’s still a place for the Celtic Cross in the toolbox of the Tarot reader.

Structure helps non-intuitive readers

I’m seeing more and more Tarot practitioners advising others to read intuitively. Don’t worry about “standard” meanings of the cards and don’t try to fit them into a formal layout. Just look at the cards and let the messages and meanings come to you.

I can do that now. I couldn’t do it when I started, or even after several years of practice.

Intuition is like any other talent – it’s not evenly distributed across the population (if you want to improve your intuition, read Mat Auryn’s excellent book Psychic Witch – and do the work he recommends). It’s not a stretch to say that many of the better Tarot readers are naturally intuitive. Unfortunately, many people who are naturally talented in a field tend to forget that what comes easily for them doesn’t come so easily for others.

For those of us who have to work at developing intuition, a structured layout helps narrow our focus in a reading. We’re not trying to intuit what a card means, we’re trying to intuit what it means in the context of the position where it falls. That narrows things down significantly, which improves accuracy and confidence.

Yes, you can do structured positions with a 3-card or 5-card spread, and that’s sufficient for most simple questions. But if you can’t get enough depth and clarity to answer your question and it’s not coming intuitively, you’re going to need more cards.

The Celtic Cross is too complicated for beginners and it’s not necessary for advanced readers. It’s very good for intermediate readers who are trying to become advanced readers, especially those who aren’t naturally intuitive.

The Celtic Cross with the Aleister Crowley’s Thoth deck. I love the artwork, but I can’t read with this deck at all.

The Celtic Cross facilitates storytelling

Specific questions need specific answers. But many times, people consult the Tarot or other divinatory tools for more general guidance. We don’t need a yes-or-no answer – we need to understand what’s going on. We need a story.

The ten positions of the Celtic Cross provide the framework for a story: what’s going on, how did we get here, where are we trying to go, what are the major influences, and where will we end up if we continue on this path?

I don’t do a lot of public readings, but when I do, at least half my querents have vague, high-level questions. I won’t read without a question, but I can’t force people to be as specific as I’d prefer. Many times they don’t know what they need – they just know something is “off” and they’re looking for guidance. The combination of the imagery in the cards and the context of the spread help create a story that gives the querent context for what they’re experiencing.

This is especially true when, in the words of Captain Barbossa, you see the positions as “more what you’d call guidelines than actual rules.” The positions provide structure, but patterns and combinations provide depth – as does intuitive reading, when you can do it.

The Celtic Cross as I read it

There are many variations on the Celtic Cross – this is the one I use. It’s my blending of multiple sources, from little white books to “real” books to what I’ve picked up from other readers and what I’ve learned on my own.

1. At the heart of the matter. The central issue of the question. Some readers select a “significator” in this position, while others do that and then draw for Position 1, giving an 11 card spread. I draw this as Card 1 of 10.

2. Crossing it for good or for ill. The major influence on the question. In a live reading I’ll place it over Card 1 (literally crossing it), but when I’m doing a photo shoot I’ll place it at the top, so you can see the first card clearly.

3. Your goal – what you seek. Not what you really want and not what you think you’re supposed to want, but what you’re going after right now.

4. In the far past. How did you get here? What happened in the past that brought you to this situation?

5. What is passing. What has been influential in recent times but is now going away, perhaps gradually or perhaps suddenly?

6. What is coming. What’s new that you should be looking out for.

7. You as you see yourself. How do you fit into this story? Is that an accurate assessment?

8. The environment in which we work. The wider context of the situation, especially things like politics, cultural trends, and natural phenomena. Many times this is the most informative card in the entire spread.

9. Your hopes and fears. What are you afraid of? What’s holding you back? What are you hoping will happen, and are those hopes realistic?

10. The final outcome. If you continue following the narrative as described by the first nine cards, this is where you’ll end up. Oftentimes this card doesn’t show a definitive place or condition so much as it tells you what things will look and feel like when you get there. As always, if you don’t like what the cards tell you, take action to change the story.

Patterns, combinations, and intuition

The cards in their positions are the beginning of the reading, not the end.

Going into depth on how I read Tarot would require far more than a blog post. And just because I read this way doesn’t mean it’s the best way for you to read. But once all ten cards are on the table, there are things I’m looking for.

How many Major Arcana cards are in the spread? How many of each suit? Are there multiples of a particular number? The more occurrences, the stronger that particular influence.

What cards seem to be related to each other, either to amplify their message or to moderate it?

Perhaps most importantly, what stands out in the cards themselves? Forget the “standard” meanings – what is this card trying to tell you right here right now? In my Divination For 2021, what stood out with The High Priestess was the cauldron. In that reading, the figure isn’t a priestess so much as she’s a witch – a magic user. In the Ten of Swords, it was the narrow band of sunlight in between the horizon and the dark clouds. Yes, things are going to be bad. But they won’t stay bad forever.

the High Priestess and the Ten of Swords from the Celtic Tarot

Sometimes one card just doesn’t fit with the rest of the cards, or with the narrative they create. When this happens, I will usually draw three more cards on top of it, to try to clarify the situation. Sometimes this provides clarity – other times I’m just as befuddled as I was to start with. Divination is an inexact science – it doesn’t always provide the answers we want.

Choose the right tool for the job

The Celtic Cross isn’t the “best” Tarot spread or the “most powerful” or “most ancient” or anything of the sort. It’s not for everyone.

It’s not a good spread for beginners. If you’re just starting out, concentrate on studying the cards and on answering simple questions with a few cards. Remember that you only get better with practice.

It’s often unnecessary for highly intuitive readers. If you don’t need it, don’t bother with it.

But for me, the Celtic Cross provided the structure I needed to get confident doing deeper readings, especially readings for other people. And it continues to provide good results in high level readings.

So I’m going to keep using it.

Divination For 2021

January 1, 2021 By John Beckett

If there was ever a time to demonstrate the limitations of doing generic, widely focused divination, it was 2020.

Like magic, divination works best when it’s specific and narrowly focused. When you ask a vague question (“what’s next year going be like?”) you’re going to get a vague answer.

Beyond that, the answers you get require interpretation. Even the wisest of us will only see what we think is possible.

Astrology is generally more useful for spotting big, long-term trends than divination. Still, I know of no astrologers who predicted a world-wide pandemic for 2020. Most talked about “challenges” in a generic sense. A few simply said “this is going to be a very difficult year.”

Late in the year, I heard a couple say “I was afraid to tell people how bad it was going to get.” Divination is an inexact science, and there are ethical issues with giving people very bad news when you can’t be 100% sure you’re right. I was taught “never tell someone their spouse is having an affair” – if you’re wrong, you’ve needlessly damaged a marriage. Same thing with “never predict a death.”

But sometimes the Death card really does mean death.

Looking back on my Divination For 2020, the cards were there to warn us. The Nine of Swords and the Ten of Swords in the same reading was a warning that bad things were coming. I correctly called the need to conjure resources, but I completely missed the context of why we’d need to conjure them. The Six of Swords as the final outcome for the year is very accurate, whether we’re talking politics, the pandemic, or pretty much anything else related to moving on from 2020.

But I literally couldn’t imagine what we would experience in 2020, so I couldn’t see it in the cards.

So why even do large-scale divination?

Broad divination is less like a photograph and more like a jigsaw puzzle. We don’t see the big picture at the beginning. But as pieces fall into place, patterns start to emerge, and we’re better able to figure out what pieces are missing and where they might come in. What I couldn’t see in this reading in January was starting to come into focus by May, and by September it was clear.

Large-scale divination is often less about preparing and more about understanding.

Perhaps the most useful observation in last year’s divination was this:

If you go to the trouble of doing divination or astrological readings or such – or going over the readings of those you trust and respect – take it one step further and keep what you learn in front of you during the year.

And with that, let’s take a look at 2021. For the fourth consecutive year I’m reading with the Celtic Tarot, which seems to speak to me better than any other deck.

My question for the cards was “what does the new year hold for me and mine?” The closer you are to me, the more this applies to you. If you do ritual with me in my back yard, it’s very relevant to you. If you follow a Pagan polytheist path like me, it applies a fair amount. If you’re a casual blog reader, less so. But the fact that you’re reading this post means there’s some connection between you and me, so I would not recommend dismissing it as irrelevant.

Four Shields – much of 2020 will continue

The first thing that stands out is that like last year, there are four Shields (Pentacles in most decks) in this reading – and two of them are the same cards. It’s not unusual (either magically or statistically) to have cards reappear in different readings, but when they do we need to pay close attention.

Last year the Queen and the Six were two of four Shields that advised us to conjure resources and to use them wisely. This year they fall in the “what is passing” positions. But we also have the King of Shields in the “major influence” position and the Ten of Shields in “hopes and fears.”

What we did in 2020 will impact our lives in 2021. That’s hardly a revelation – it’s simple cause and effect. But too many of us are expecting that January 1 (or January 20) will mean an end to our problems. It will not.

What got you through 2020 – caution, commitment, and resourcefulness – will get you through 2021.

The theme for the year: the Wheel of Fortune

Many of my Tarot-reading friends don’t like the Celtic Cross layout. I use it because I’ve found it to be accurate and helpful, especially when the positions are viewed more as guidelines than actual rules.

The first card is “the heart of the matter.” For 2021, that’s the Wheel of Fortune. At its core, this is a card of randomness, of chance, of luck – good, bad, and indifferent – and of opportunity. It reminds us of the limitations of divination: we can only see what is likely to happen, not what will happen.

The King of Shields “crossing it for good or for ill” is a reminder that material resources can moderate the impact of random chance (insert sermon on economic justice here). Make use of what you have, both to survive random difficulties and to take advantage of random opportunities. That will put you in a better position to deal with whatever comes with the next spin of the Wheel.

Identifying and making use of random opportunities will be the difference between surviving 2021 and thriving in 2021.

The work of the year: magic and spiritual depth

Despite the continuities, 2021 will not be a clone of 2020.

Aces are cards of new beginnings. This reading includes the Ace of Cauldrons, and The High Priestess (in the “what you seek” position), who is working with a large simmering cauldron. Immediately over the Ace of Cauldrons in “the environment in which we work” slot is The Magician.

This is the year to own your witchcraft. Yes, mundane problems require mundane effort, but they can be helped with magic. Plus we don’t call it “practicing” witchcraft for nothing – the more you practice, the better you get, and the better results you get. “Whenever you have need of anything” break out your sigils, your herbs and stones, your wand, or your cauldron. Or all of the above.

2021 is also a year for deep spiritual work – the kind of “off the map” Otherworldly journeying that scares people with good sense and attracts some of us like cats to a can opener. I did some of this work last year – I need to do more this year.

Pay attention!

Sometimes the simple “little white book” interpretations are the most accurate. The Four of Cauldrons tells us that when we feel like we’re missing out on something, oftentimes the reason is that we’re not seeing something that’s just at the edge of our perception. I don’t know what this card points to for me, much less for you. I do know it’s a call to pay attention.

Other times, reading the cards requires more knowledge and subtlety. The Ten of Shields is usually understood as a card of completeness and happiness. But in the Celtic Tarot, the woman is Aranrhod. She is about to step over the wand that will cause her to give birth to Lleu Llaw Gyffes and entangle her in a series of conflicts.

Watch your step, especially when you think our difficulties are behind us.

The Ten of Swords, again

I did not want to see the Ten of Swords in “the final outcome” position.

This is the third card that repeats from last year’s reading. I minimized it then – I won’t do that again.

I will say – as always – that the cards show what will be, not what must be. This painful ending can be avoided – individually if not collectively – if we take steps to change course and create a different future.

The other nine cards show the way. Use your resources wisely, especially those you gained in 2020. Pay attention, both to the traps in front of you and to the opportunities that random chance sends your way. Work your magic, diligently and deeply.

I wish I could show you a bright and happy future for the coming year. I started to draw more cards to add clarity to the Ten of Swords – I was told “no!” loudly and clearly.

This is the reading for the coming year. Keep it in front of you. As the pieces start to fall into place, think about what’s likely to come next – and about what you can do to make it work out better for you and yours.

The Evolution of My Pagan Ritual Liturgy

December 17, 2020 By John Beckett

Tomorrow’s Winter Solstice Ritual will be the seventh online ritual I’ve done this year. All of them follow a similar ritual order and framework – a liturgy. We often think of liturgy as something Christians do, but the word comes to us from the ancient Greek lēitos meaning “public” and -ergos meaning “working.” Liturgy was Pagan long before it was Christian.

I’ve been using this particular liturgy for several years, but it didn’t start here. It’s been a journey. My Pagan ritual liturgy has evolved, and likely, it will continue to evolve.

To be clear, when I say “my liturgy” I mean “the liturgy I use.” I didn’t invent any of this. I’m not sure anybody invented any of it, at least not in our era. People have been doing these things for hundreds and hundreds of years.

I don’t even own this exact combination of ritual elements. Much of this liturgy evolved in my work with Denton CUUPS, and with other groups and individuals. Rarely have we sat down and tried to determine the best possible liturgy. Rather, we’ve added and removed elements because of specific needs at specific times. We kept what worked and discarded what didn’t.

This is how I got here, through 10 years of solitary practice and 17 years of group practice.

Under the Ancient Oaks Online Samhain Ritual – 2020

In the beginning was Scott Cunningham

Like most Pagans of this generation, my initial instruction was from books, in particular Scott Cunningham’s Wicca: A Guide For The Solitary Practitioner.

I’m not sure it would be fair to call my early workings “ritual,” much less “liturgy.” I was primarily focused on low-level magical workings. It would be a long time before I tried anything resembling high magic, much less devotion. Most of what could be considered liturgy was cleansing, casting a circle, and calling the quarters (a term I no longer use).

I wasn’t the only one. When I finally started going to public rituals, I mostly saw cleansing, casting a circle, and calling the quarters. I went to several rituals where there was ten to fifteen minutes of elaborate opening, ten minutes of elaborate closing, and maybe five minutes of an actual magical or religious working in between. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always emphasized “make the main event the main event” when I teach ritual.

My first public ritual – thank you ADF

The first time I led a public ritual was Summer Solstice 2003. That occasion has its own blog post, including how I was so nervous I almost backed out.

I wanted to do a Druid ritual, I didn’t know where to start, and most of the Druid rituals I found on the internet were from ADF – Ár nDraíocht Féin. I still have the script – it follows their Core Order of Ritual almost exactly.

Unlike Wicca and OBOD, ADF doesn’t cast circles and call quarters. The “world building” part of their liturgy focuses on the Fire, the Well, and the Tree. Over the years I’ve kept casting circles and invoking the spirits of the elements and directions – I explained why in a 2017 blog post (short answer: I find it helpful – my liturgy is very utilitarian).

But from ADF I learned to do a pre-ritual briefing, to let everyone know what you’re going to do and how to participate. I find that helpful even in a closed group that’s been working together for years.

I got the idea of a grounding meditation from ADF, and I still use a version of their Tree Meditation in my daily practice. It was a major part of my liturgy for many years, though lately I find myself using it less and less.

ADF introduced me to the idea of the Three Kindreds – the Gods, the Ancestors, and the Nature Spirits – and also to the idea that if we invite them into our rituals, we should make offerings to them. That gradually made its way into my liturgy.

ADF priest Rev. Lauren Mart and the members of Nine Waves Grove lead ritual at the 2018 Texas Imbolc Retreat

OBOD and “borrow and blend”

I joined the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids in Fall 2004 and began their training program. OBOD is part of the Western Mystery Tradition: they cast circles and call the spirits of the elements and directions much the same as Wiccans. That made it easy to move back and forth between my solitary OBOD rituals and my public CUUPS rituals, which were still heavily Wiccan.

Writing a ritual is hard, and when trying to do it for the first time most people do what I did: they find something they like on the internet and use that. The problem is that they throw together a bit of Wicca, a bit of ADF, a bit of traditional witchcraft, and a bit of something they saw on TV – and it doesn’t work. If you’re going to borrow, you have to blend – you have to give the whole ritual one theme and one voice. The same is true for rituals written by several people – someone has to edit it to make it sound like one person wrote the whole thing.

From about 2004 to about 2011, my liturgy had been borrowed and blended into a fairly consistent order. Pre-ritual briefing. Opening bell. Ground and center meditation. Formal opening. Cast circle and call quarters. Invoke ancestors and deities. Then the main working. After that the simple feast, reversing the grounding meditation, thanking the Gods, dismissing the quarters, uncasting the circle, a benediction and the closing bell.

Most of that liturgical framework remains. But there have been changes over the years.

The emergence of a polytheist

In 2010, if you had asked me if I was a hard polytheist or a soft polytheist, I would have said “yes.” By 2014, I would have said “I’m a polytheist – soft polytheism is pantheism.”

There were always deities involved in my rituals. Sometimes they were individual deities (I first met the Morrigan at Lughnasadh 2004), but many times they were simply “The Goddess” and “The God.” Reciting The Charge of the Goddess was a frequent ritual element.

My liturgy was quite flexible – it worked either way. But invocations and offerings became more important, as did choosing the right Deity of the Occasion. Figuring out that we need to honor Lugh at Lughnasadh or Brighid at Imbolc is easy, but who do we honor at Beltane? Sometimes it’s Whoever says “I want your next ritual” – we can’t nail the Gods to a calendar.

Honor the Morrigan at the Summer Solstice? If She says so, yes! Under the Ancient Oaks Online Summer Solstice Ritual – 2020

The Fair Folk demand their due

The Fair Folk are not to be trifled with, and whenever someone tells me they want to “work with the fairies” I send them to Morgan Daimler and hope they can be persuaded otherwise. But Denton CUUPS and its members have had a rather unique relationship with the Good Neighbors since before there was a Denton CUUPS. We have, upon occasion, acknowledged them in ritual and tried to maintain neighborly relations.

One such time was Beltane 2016. We invited the Fair Folk, we told some of their stories, and we were – in our opinion – quite hospitable toward them. They thought otherwise and helped themselves to an entire pitcher of wine.

Before the ritual we poured wine out of bottles into a glass pitcher and set it on a table near the main altar, to use in our simple feast. It sat there for at least a half hour. And then at one point in the ritual, with nothing going on around the table, the pitcher simply split, like what happens when you pour cold water into a hot glass. Except there was no sudden change of temperature anywhere.

For this and other reasons, I am now obligated to acknowledge the Fair Folk in my rituals – I can’t dump them in with the land spirits like I tried to do for several years. If you’re participating in one of my online rituals and you’re not comfortable offering to themselves, then don’t. I completely understand, and to a large extent, agree. But I no longer have that choice, and so my liturgy now includes recognizing and offering to the Fair Folk.

The central fire

Early on my Pagan journey I learned that some people invoke Center as the fifth direction. I did that a couple of times, but never gave it much thought. Later, I learned about the Greek Omphalos and the Norse Yggdrasil – mystical centers of the world.

ADF teaches that the fire is a gateway to the Otherworld – but so are the Well and the Tree. But there’s something special about fire, going back to the idea that the campfire was humanity’s first sacred circle.

In this short video, I talk with ADF Archdruid Jean Pagano about the importance of fire in ADF ritual, and in Indo-European religion in general.

My invocation of the central fire varies from ritual to ritual, but it always begins with the statement “this fire is the intersection of all times, all directions, and all worlds.” It ends with “we make this offering, that our journeys may be safe and fruitful.” The fire is the mystical center of the ritual.

Going forward: make changes mindfully

I run into some Pagans who dislike the whole idea of liturgy. For them, Pagan ritual should always be “spontaneous.” They are, of course, free to conduct their rituals however they like.

But while there’s a place for spontaneity, it’s mainly in solitary and very small group workings. In a medium to large group ritual, it usually leads to disjointed and ineffectual workings.

The Greeks – who gave us the word “liturgy” – had an order to their sacrifices and other public rituals. The Egyptians had a liturgy for everything – we have them because they painted them on the walls of their temples and tombs. In some cases they were literally carved in stone.

As I hope this post has demonstrated, our contemporary Pagan liturgies need not be permanently fixed. When there’s a good reason to make a change – either as a one-time thing or going forward indefinitely – then make the change. If it works, keep it. If it doesn’t, don’t.

But I encourage you to make changes mindfully. Break rules on purpose, not haphazardly. You don’t have to justify your changes to me or to anyone else. You just have to convince yourself that you’re changing a liturgy that works because something else might work better, not just because “this is cool and I want to do it.”

Good liturgy should be a living thing. This is how my liturgy has evolved over the years.