Seasons of Darkness and Light

Over at Broom With A View, AmethJera has written a beautiful post about what the Christian season of Advent has in common with the way many Pagans celebrate this time of year. I feel much the same way, this year.

I've now had almost a year very consciously trying to work out who I am, what I believe, which gods I worship, what I value and where I'm going. I'm a long way from working all that out, but I am learning that my spiritual journey is one unbroken line. This doesn't always mean syncretism - the term 'Christo-Pagan' doesn't fit me very well at the moment - but at times, elements of syncretism can make sense. And this is a time of year when the 'waiting for light' concept is common across many religions. That's no accident, but I don't believe it means any faith has 'stolen' from any other. If anything, we've all influenced each other's beliefs and practices as our faith communities have walked their spiritual paths through the centuries. One well, many rivers.

At this time, the Christian church is waiting for light. They look to the coming of a divine child. They wait for the Son.

At this time, Pagans are waiting for light. Many look to the coming of a Divine Child. They wait for the sun.

Together, and with others of spiritual and religious faiths, we wait.

This year I'm waiting for light in particularly deep darkness. But it will come. 

In my approach to this, we wait for and work towards and co-create a better world, where the balance of dark and light is restored, and where power is less tipped in the direction of destruction (of the earth, her creatures and our fellow human beings) and oppression (of anyone less fortunate than the most fortunate, but especially of the weakest, the easiest targets).

At this dark time, what do you wait for and work for?

Longing for light, we wait in darkness.
Longing for truth, we turn to you...
Christ, be our light,
Shine in our hearts, shine through the darkness...
- Advent hymn

Deity and Periphery

This is what I wrote in response to Teo Bishop's very thought-provoking post on deity in Paganism vs the god of Christianity. He talked about his conversion process to Paganism, and asked about how the gods speak to Pagans and how that might vary from the ways that the 'Christian god' is considered by that religion to speak and work in the world today. Go and read, especially the amazing comment stream underneath. Some incredibly thoughtful people have contributed ideas on the gods, the problems with defining them, and how the Christian paradigm is very difficult to 'square' with Pagan approaches (plural) to deity/the Divine. Anyway. I wanted to copy my comment here, because the post and the comments have got me thinking. I said:

I don't know that 'conversion' is the right term for what's going on with me, at least not in the straightforward religious sense. (As a sociological process I can relate to the idea a bit better). As a liberal-radical Christian with a very strong Gnostic influence, Paganism isn't really all that much of a change of paradigm for me. Gnostics have the Sophia myth, as a kind of mother goddess concept; their beliefs are focused in the esoteric wisdom traditions; they have much in common with many Buddhists and other Eastern traditions. Christian Gnosticism is almost more of a spiritual philosophy than a religion. Which means that I've got all these Pagans around me going "Ooh, it's going to be SO hard for you to adjust to these new concepts..." and so far, it just hasn't been. It's a step along on the journey, but not a huge leap off a cliff. So I do think that the type or flavor of Christianity is relevant to the kind of journey they might go on in a process of moving towards Paganism.

But anyway. Concepts of deity. This is the one thing that *has* been a bit harder for me to get my head around (though not impossible, again because of Gnostic influence).  What I think we need to remember is that the god of the Bible, Yahweh, emerged from a very specific culture that valued the written world extremely highly. (The Bronze Age Hebrew people were among the first to use writing, and their gradual elevation of the Torah itself to near-sacred levels is today reflected in the way that Christians relate to the Bible.) To some extent, our society continues to experience the fallout of that - we might not have had such highly codified legal systems or valuing of academic study, for example, without it.

So, for those of us moving into Paganism with *any* kind of Christian influence behind us, we have to remember that we are going to be dragging in our own baggage about the written word. I suffer from this, too - as a sociologist of religion, I can get critical of 'unproven' stuff (like whether the Celts worshipped a certain deity or not) and become focused in the wrong direction, on trying to 'prove' it. That's baggage from both my Christian and my academic backgrounds. And it's usually not the point. Do my deities speak to me today? Yes, but I can't expect them to speak in the same way as a Bronze Age Middle Eastern tribal god. I believe that the gods of the Irish and British ancients spoke to their people in the trees, the wind, the birds... The written word was valued in an *entirely* different way. I need to start by understanding some of these things if I'm going to get *anywhere* with hearing (/seeing/experiencing) these deities. Even the concept of gods 'speaking' is very word-centric. Just like the Bible is: "In the beginning was the Word..." What if we could stop worrying about the written/spoken word, in the modern, narrow, Judeo-Christian sense, and instead ask how the gods sing, do magic, heal, manifest today? Once you throw off the veil of monotheism, and see everything much more metaphorically and esoterically, the word moves away from centre stage. And I think that's a good thing.

Just some thoughts on how different the paradigm is between Christian ideas and many other approaches to the Divine.

In other news, I spent a very awkward time with church friends yesterday. It served as a bit of a clarification of how I feel about church at the moment. The central aspects of it, the Mass and the Gospel and worship, remain important to me - but at the moment, I so very much can't be bothered with the self-congratulatory, ridiculously middle-class, very Anglican-style peripheral stuff, with its 'Where-have-you-been?' type pressure to attend every week whether it benefits me or not. I may go to a church where no one knows me today, so I can slip in and out and not deal with the peripherals. Or I might go and find a bit of the natural world and listen to the trees, the birds, the sky, the river and the gods who manifest in them.

The Problem with Twitter

Twitter involves such an unbelievably high level of stimulation. I used to find it easier than Facebook - but now I have so many people I'm 'following' on twitter that it's becoming just as difficult. As someone on the autistic spectrum, I experience twitter like an INCREDIBLY loud room, full of hundreds of people, all talking about different things, all coming in and out of different conversations and drawing others into and out of them. It's worse than the world's biggest party. The stimulation and churning up of emotion involved with all of that is really quite difficult for me.

I've been working hard on managing my emotions for the last few weeks. I won't go into the details of why, but I find emotions one of the biggest blocks to my experience of spirituality. They can be far more disabling for me than my chronic pain or my easily-dislocating joints. I've been trying to learn how to work with my emotions for the past ten years or more, slowly adding to my management techniques, from meditation to grounding, and using antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication when necessary. It's still REALLY hard. The past few weeks have been difficult, and twitter hasn't been helping. When something goes 'wrong' on twitter, it's a bit like, in the midst of the very loud party, someone has stopped in the middle of all the flow of conversations, and started shouting something like BUT WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT OPINION? while the room around falls silent. And while sometimes I can laugh and shake it off and/or reply, sometimes I'm just faced with the fact that there are some verrrry ignorant/difficult/unfriendly people in the world. And some who are great but just don't like me. And I wish I was someone who could deal with that better, and to some extent I can in the 'real world' - but not in the middle of the world's biggest party!

Celtic Paganism talks about the three realms of earth, sea and sky, the wisdom of the concept of three, and of walking a middle path. Now, in most ways, I know I wasn't called to a middle path. The path of the activist - the warrior - is not exactly one of compromise! But being able to find what T. Thorn Coyle calls the "still centre" within myself is something I want to strive for. That means being aware of the things that draw me away from that. So when I feel under pressure, when I'm having a day when I'm feeling particularly out of balance, maybe not going to the world's biggest party is a sensible idea.

And now I'm off to meditate.

Winter Blessings from Celtic Christianity

The sun is setting, and I'm off to do a really quiet celebration of Samhain. I've been REALLY conflicted about this sabbat, feeling that I shouldn't celebrate it until I completely understand it (among other worries) - and since I really can't get my head around it yet, at all, I was all for trying to forget it was happening.

I confessed this to The Girl, my wonderful Jewish wife, who told me a story. Once upon a time, it was the eve of Passover. Three rabbis had been debating for hours, as rabbis do. They were debating how many plagues there had been in Egypt. There couldn't possibly have been only ten plagues. Were there a hundred? A thousand? More? On and on they debated, as the sun set. Then there was a knock on their door. They opened it to see a small group of concerned-looking students. "Rabbis," they said. "You're late for the service."

So I've been offline today, trying to work through some of this conflicted-ness, and much other stuff too. But I wanted to leave a Samhain blessing. This is a little gift for my dear Pagan friends (not having met most of you does not make you any less friends), who have been so supportive while I try to find my feet on my very personal path. Blessed Samhain. For tonight, I'm going to stop arguing about the number of plagues and go to the service.


Celtic Christian blessings and reflections on winter, death and time


Remember, O friend, your end.
Now you are strong and fit, filled with ambition, boasting of your achievements; but all your success is a mere passing shadow.
Remember you are made of clay, and to clay you will return.
Now you are healthy and handsome, filled with energy, proud of your work; but all your joys are mere passing shadows.
Remember your life is the breath of God, which at death will depart.
Now your life on earth is solid and stable; but soon it will dissolve, your body crumbling to dust.
Remember, O friend, your end.

- Celtic Christian poem

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

The face of nature is solemn in winter, her breath chill, and her eyes pale.
Ducks shiver as they float on icy ponds; the sea heaves, its waves beating against the cliffs.
The birds' song is muffled and sad, as they search for scraps of food; only the ravens are glad, feeding on crimson blood.
The tiny animals are asleep in their holes, with food for the winter; the cattle and sheep huddle for warmth.
The trees are bare, the wind whistling through their branches; the earth is barren and dark, covered with black wet leaves.
The men cut wood for the fire, while the women cook hot, thin soup; people contemplate death, when they shall meet their creator.

- Translated by Robert Van de Weyner from ancient British and Irish poems on the seasons

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

The month of November, the swine are plump.
The trees are now half bare, the leaves half fallen.
The brown floor turns black and sodden.
The days grow shorter, the nights longer.
The rain grows colder, the sunshine paler.
The full barn soon starts to empty.
'The wealth of heaven lasts forever.'


- From the Verses of the Months; Welsh, from about the 15th century


~     ~     ~      ~      ~


In the fading of the summer sun,
the shortening of days, cooling breeze,
swallows' flight and moonlight rays
We see the Creator's hand.
In the browning of leaves once green,
morning mists, autumn chill,
fruit that falls frost's first kiss
We see the Creator's hand.


We bless you, God of Seed and Harvest
And we bless each other
That the beauty of this world
And the love that created it
Might be expressed though our lives
And be a blessing to other.

- Modern Celtic Christian-style Samhain liturgy by John Birch ( http://www.faithandworship.com/Samhain_praying_though_the_Celtic_year.htm )

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

Mary nurtures a Son in her womb:
His birth a blessing to those who discover him.
He goes forth like the sun,
Great is the number of his company.

- Old Welsh poem
(The church season of Advent is about to start - Christians in the winter awaiting the returning Sun...)

There is a time for everything...

...and a season for everything under heaven.
- Ecclesiastes 3:1 (found in both the Jewish and Christian bibles).

I've been an enormous hermit all summer. Since May, when I got married, then flew to Israel for another wedding, then collapsed on the way home, I've been keeping myself away from the world of other people (gah) as much as possible. This often happens to me during the summer - which is no bad thing for a teacher and aspiring academic, as my calendar leans in the direction of winter anyway. This summer I went inside myself, and deeply explored my own spiritual path and choices. This led to past journeys being examined, specific choices being made, and roots being extended. Branches? Not so much. I don't like going out into the world. I am now semi-regularly attending a local Pagan moot, while studying for my bardic grade with OBOD. That's all because I need structure. But since I have a whole long history of deep involvement with church behind me (not always a positive experience), and since I'm still attending church when I can, I don't desperately want an active group to share in regular ritual with - at least, not yet. I'm sure that's something I'll benefit from later. And I am attending open rituals occasionally. But mostly, my religious practice has been very, very personal recently. (And with an episode on the difference between religion and spirituality coming up for 'Divine Community', I'm interested to see myself defining it as religious practice!)

But now things are moving on, and I'm supposed to go back out into the world. I'm supposed to be beginning to reap the harvest of a summer of work, and finding new ways to plant, as a result. I'm back at uni, making a vague effort to focus on my studies, and of course the new podcast is one of the ways I'm responding to a call I feel to be engaging with the world. It's absolutely my calling, as a teacher and student of a lot of things - and I've always felt this calling to teach, to share experience, and to learn. But I would really rather not. I get scared.  I'm scared because my university is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I'm concerned I'm going to fold under it and not be able to finish my thesis (I've barely begun, so this is a bit of a silly one, but there you go). I'm scared that my podcast will be widely hated by the Pagan community because I won't be perceived as a 'real' Pagan, or because I don't know enough about Paganism/religion in general. What's the only thing you can do with fear? Well, you can run away, but eventually life catches up with you. But the other thing you can do is face it. Get back on the horse, and all that. (Note: the horse is metaphorical. I've only had one riding lesson in my entire life, and I was terrified and never did get back on the actual horse. Ahem.)

I'm being blessed enough to be able to worship deities of battle and strength, as well as to honour Scathach (pronounced Skya), a warrior figure who is somewhere between an ancestor and a goddess for some who follow a Celtic spirituality. This was a great shock to me. I thought that the deities who would call to me most would be the peace-making ones. And some of those are becoming important to me too. But the impression I get is that the Celtic deities think I've had quite enough of submission and acquiescence. Not that the deities of peace are about that either, but too much work with them early on and I might get the wrong idea and start to give in to my doormat tendencies, which already run rampant in my life. The gods who are becoming my gods are keen for me to face life a lot more directly. To get in touch with my own power, authority, and sovereignty over my own life.

Which means going back into the fray and dealing with problems, and with society. Did I mention that I really, really hate doing that? Which, y'know, is ironic for a sociologist. ("And given my lifelong search for irony you can imagine how happy I am." - Phoebe, 'Friends') Ah well. I'm working on it. And with that, I return to work on the never-ending literature review. This week: which aspects of Christianity can be seen as a 'new religious movement'? See you all later. (And do please download the podcast! Go on - make me less nervous. Thank you!)

It's Autumn in Britain, and absolutely beautiful.

Podcast! And religion!

My absence over the last few weeks has been due to a) much tiredness and b) putting all my leftover energy into The Podcast! That's right - Divine Community has started. If you're at all interested in religion and society, from a somewhat (but not solely) Pagan perspective, I think you'll enjoy this. You can subscribe in iTunes. We don't have an e-mail address for the show (because Amadore is incredibly busy, and I am both busy and on the autistic spectrum!) but we have a blog where you comment with feedback, and we hope to get a Facebook page and/or messageboard set up soon where people can discuss the issues raised in the show. I'm working on a new episode, in the meantime - with a sooper speshal (to me) guest co-host...!

In meMeME news, spirituality is chugging along, and continuing to make me so grateful that I finally found this path. I'm considering taking the OBOD course (or the new British Druid Order bardic course, which is a similar alternative). I've started an ancestor shrine over the past few weeks, which has opened the door for a surprising introduction from an ancient heroine. I've been doing a lot of reading, from both Pagan and academic sources, on Celtic culture and history. I already knew a lot - I've known some of the myths for years, thanks to having Irish family, and I've explored some of the pre-Christian history of Ireland before - but I've been trying to go deeper. I don't think I could ever be a Celtic reconstructionist*, because we just don't know how (or who) the ancient Celts worshiped. Taking all our cues on this from archaeology and Roman reports is just as dodgy, IMHO, as taking it all from the myths written down in the early Christian era. Ultimately, while I'd love it if we had as much knowledge of our history, culture and gods as some other reconstructionists do, we just don't. So if I meet a goddess who I identify with the myth of An Morrigan, that's what I'm going to call her. She won't mind - any more than she minds if I slightly mispronounce her name. She probably pre-dates the names we've given her anyway. And I mean, really - the Jews don't even know how the name of their god was originally pronounced. There are plenty of cultures where the deities seem to put up with a range of names and pronunciations!

Um, sorry for that diversion. My point was that, as great as it is to find out as much as we can about Celtic culture and worship, through archeology, history and myth (and I recommend Peter Harbison's and Barry Cunliffe's books for that), I personally don't think we can ever find enough evidence to reconstruct even a basic pantheon. I know there's a wide range of views on this, but I have mine. (For now!) So I'm not listening to those who want worshipers of Celtic gods to live like Iron Age Celts (how would I choose between Hallstatt and La Tene, for a start?!), or who insist that only deities whose names have been found on shrines or statues (mainly in Gaul) should be worshiped. I have no response to Gaulish or most Brythonic deities. It's the Irish and Welsh ones who call to me. Is this socially constructed, because I have Irish and Welsh family? Yes, to some extent, it probably is - I'm familiar with aspects of the cultures reflected in the Welsh and Irish myths, and I can imagine what kind of characters the Irish and Welsh would attribute to deities. On the other hand... it's easy to get lost in sociology and forget that spiritual experience matters too. These deities are real to me. I'm a polytheist (have been for a while actually!), and I may be moving towards becoming a 'hard' (or at least 'medium') polytheist. Yes, cultures create deities. But I think that deities also create cultures.

But I am drawing on the rich wisdom accumulated and shared by those who practice various types of Celtic Paganism, including reconstructionism. Most useful here, for me, are the hearth-based religious practices. As I think I hinted at in the podcast, I'm more about religion than spirituality. I'm incredibly happy for those who can follow a spiritual path without structure - but I really, really can't. I need little daily practices, rituals for creating sacred space where I can worship, etc. This doesn't need to involve institutional religion, but for me, it needs to involve personal religious practice. Offering nightly prayers to Bridget (as hearth/home goddess) and to the triple aspect of the Morrigan (as protector) are examples of this kind of thing. I need to do more reading around this kind of practice.

Anyway. Enough rambling. Please subscribe to the podcast! And tell me what you think! I hope you enjoy. :)


*All such statements are subject to change at any time, at my whim. So there.

Labels, identities and causing offence

More than one twitter user appeared offended/confused about me when I 'follow friday'ed some Christians as well as some Pagans. Apparently real Pagans wouldn't follow Christians. This kind of anti-Christian nonsense really pisses me off, regardless of my faith or labels. Other people, from what I've observed, rush to prove their Pagan status under these kinds of doubts. I just stated that I'm not far enough along the path to be sure of labels. But even if I was, and even if I left the Church, I'd still follow the awesome, open-minded Christians whose feeds and blogs I enjoy so much. Like Soul Liberty Faith. You have to read the blog of this incredible woman whose unconditional friendship with local Pagans has lost her the support of her fellow Christians. This is someone who is embodying the open interfaith spirit that I long to see more of in our divided world. Why are Pagans so desperate to decry all Christians that they miss or ignore wonderful exceptions like this? Yes, there are some nasty, bigoted, cruel and exclusive Christians out there. Newsflash: there are a lot of Pagans out there who are very similar in their attitudes. I'm not accusing the tweeters who were confused about my religious identity of that. But I have already observed a lot of it, in my few short months in the Pagan community. And if I have to prove my religious purity to be part of a religion, whether it's Christianity or a Pagan path, then I don't want to be part of that religion. I've already had quite enough of the 'prove you're one of us' attitude from the more conservative Christians. I don't want to join a new faith and find I have to prove my 'Pagan-ness' there, too. I really don't care who's offended that I worship Jesus as well as Arianrhod. I haven't worked out my beliefs yet, and I don't honestly know how to square Christianity with my polytheistic beliefs. And they are polytheistic - I don't even have a Wiccan-style 'all gods are one god' belief to fall back on. The gods are many and that's why they're the gods, to me. I think the reason I (quite suddenly) believe this is that I met some deities who are in no way, shape or form anything like Jesus (or Yahweh, but I don't think I've ever met him). Deity is far too complex to be one, for me. There is probably one source of power or life that humans and gods alike emerge from. But increasingly, there's going to be absolutely no way that I can say the 'I believe in one god' line in the Christian creed.

Which brings me to the other problem of labels I've had this week. Someone very close to me, an atheist of all things, accused me of not knowing what I believe and lying to people by calling myself a Christian. She is so upset about it that, although I know these are her insecurities and not mine, it's made me go back to worrying about deceiving people in church about my beliefs. It is a core aspect of my values that honesty is one of the most important things in a community. It's one of the things I value most about myself - I am honest to the point of stupidity. For now, my conclusion is that I need to take some more time off church (at least in my official choirgirl role - I can visit sometimes) and use the time wisely to keep working on my beliefs. I'm studying and experiencing things all the time (more later on the land spirits/local deities here in Scotland). That's definitely helping me to sort out my own beliefs. Equally, though, my lifetime of experiences as an aspiring mystic and interfaith theologist is helping immensely. Paganism is the path I'm moving towards, but the Divine is far, far bigger than one path. I've always believed that God is bigger than Christianity. That belief continues to sustain me now. Whatever else changes in my life, the Divine is constant. My lifelong aim is to experience more of the Divine. That has not changed. Those of you who think Neo-Paganism has all the answers, remember how many hundreds of other spiritual paths also have a part of the truth, and some have done for thousands of years, from Zoroastrianism to Zen Buddhism. We will never understand everything about the Divine. Let's learn from those who mistakenly think that they do, and be humble.