Category Archives: Religion

#changingpathschallenge2024: My values

Today’s blogging challenge prompt is “my values.” As I considered what to say about my values, I decided to look up a definition. The University Texas of Austin’s website Ethics Unwrapped defines values as “beliefs that motivate people to act one way or another.” This made me immediately think of a Threads post from the start of May in which I offered my top three beliefs:

  • Everything and everyone is sacred.
  • We are in dialogue with the Divine.
  • Creation is an ongoing process and we are participants in it.

I’d say that these three beliefs form the foundation of my morals and every decision I make. It is that dialogue and my role as a co-creator that urges to realize that the choices I make have consequences, while my belief that everything is sacred and my desire to treat all everyone and everything with the dignity that such a sacred nature requires informs my choices.

Of course, this trio of beliefs alone are not sufficient for making day-to-day choices. For that, I rely on virtues, those qualities that I have come to deem worthy of pursuing and upholding. I can’t say as I have a definitive or formal list of all the virtues I embrace and seek to uphold, but I’ve been heavily influenced by the Wiccan virtues, the Nine Noble Virtues from Asatru, and Ar nDraiocht Fein’s own list of virtues from their dedicant program.

The thing about a virtue-based morality is that it’s not black and white, nor are there any easy answers in such a system. For each situation, I have to consider the virtues I hold dear and determine which ones have something to say about that particular situation. I then must consider whether any of those virtues come into conflict in the context of that particular situation. If so, I have to decide how to best resolve that conflict. This is why i appreciate being in dialogue with my deities. Their wisdom in navigating such a complicated world is greatly appreciated. But in the end, it is up to me to decide what to do. After all, I am the one who has to take responsibility for my choice and the consequences that result from it.

(This post is part of #changingpathschallenge2024. For more information on the challenge, check out Yvonne Aburrow’s post to learn more about the challenge.)

Why I like being a Pagan: Exploring a journal prompt from Chapter 8 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday readers! In this blog post, I continue working my way through Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. Today’s prompt is from chapter eight, which is titled “Joining a Pagan Tradition.”1 I’ve chosen the following prompt as a guide and inspiration for this post:

What aspect of Paganism are you drawn to? Is it magic and witchcraft? Nature, the Earth, or the land? Ancestors? Trees, stars, and stones? A specific pantheon of deities or a specific ancient culture?

This feels like another one of those prompts where I’ve spent this entire blog exploring the underlying question, so it’ll be somewhat challenge to distill several years of thoughts into a single cohesive post.2

I think the first thing that comes to mind is the memory of how the idea magic drew me to witchcraft (and Paganism in general) almost immediately back in 1998. It wasn’t necessarily even the thought of self-empowerment that comes with the ability to work magic, though that definitely was a factor. There was some part of me that almost craved a sense of wonder and magic — something existing just beyond the humdrum of everyday life — all my life. I remember being a kid and imagining that I could feel the flow of magical energy all around me. So imagine my delight when I read Cunningham’s book3 and realized that some people thought that was actually real. To make a pun of it, I was enchanted.

Of course, as I matured as a witch, I also began to appreciate what I might call the magical of the mundane. I came to appreciate that the separation between a magical life and a mundane one was actually illusory, which is an idea that appealed to me ever since.

I gravitated toward the Norse deities and Freyja over a period of a few years after exploring a few options. For example, i spent about a year studying Irish mythology and trying to connect with the Tuatha De Danann. This was mainly because I found a young gentleman at my local witch shop who was also studying and was a member of Ar nDriacht Fein, a Druid group4 founded by Isaac Bonewitts.

However, my friend and I discussed some of our other interests, and for me, that included the runes, which I had begun studying (at the suggestion of my first boyfriend, no less) even before I decided to leave Christianity.5 My friend noted that I practically lit up when I started talking about the runes and the lore that was often woven into interpreting and understanding them. He commented that while I clearly enjoyed learning about Irish mythology, I did not have that same passion for it. So he strongly encouraged me to seek to build a relationship with the Aesir and Vanir instead. And that’s how I eventually became a Freyjasman.6

As time went by, the ancestors became increasingly important to me. This was especially true as I learned more about seidr and other shamanistic7 aspects of Norse magic. Of course, my first introduction to the idea of honoring the ancestors likely came from my time with ADF, which includes calling and honoring the ancestors in their ritual structure. But it became more important as I began a more practical and intimate practice of working with the ancestors on a more one-on-one level.

As for honoring nature, I have very mixed feelings about the relationship between Paganism and nature, at least how it often seems to be viewed in the greater Pagan community. As someone who grew up in rural Pennsylvania, went hunting a couple times (I quickly realized I had neither the patience nor the overall temperament for it), and grew up camping, I had a great deal of appreciation for nature. I still think much of nature and spending time in nature is wondrous and important. I also think that preserving nature is crucial.

And yet, as an old rural boy, I sometimes feel that many Pagans romanticize and even idolize “nature” in a way that doesn’t resonate with my experiences with nature. I often find myself wondering if any of them have actually taken a hike in the woods or spent much time in the parts of nature not meticulously maintained by people.

Also, I feel like some of my Pagans tend to forget that humans are a part of nature, and that includes our tendency to build structures, societies, and the amenities of civilization. The “nature vs. human civilization” divide sometimes seems overblown to me at times.8

I think for me, this is a topic where my perception of Midgard vs. Utgard is instructive for me.9 On one level, I tend to view them as symbolic of the (relatively) secure places established by human civilization and the untamed places in the world that exist beyond those boundaries. I also think that we as humans need both of these places and that human survival requires us to cross into those untamed places at times. I also think that once you start thinking about these ideas, the boundary between Midgard and Utgard tend to get much fuzzier than we first thought.

That was probably quite the tangent though. At any rate, I hope you’ve enjoyed this latest insight into the things that have drawn me most and meant he most to me in Paganism as I practice it. I’d love to hear your own thoughts in the comments!

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this is the first chapter in part two of the book, where Aburrow shifts focus to exploring and following Pagan spiritualities. For those who are not interested in becoming a Pagan, I acknowledge that the rest of the posts in this series and (and the rest of Aburrow’s book) may not be as directly applicable or even interesting as part one. As such, I understand if you choose to skip the rest of this series, though I hope you’ll at least consider sticking around. After all, you may find ways to apply my own thoughts and Aburrow’s book to your own spiritual path (or lack thereof). Either way, I wish you well. ↩︎
  2. Me being me, I may abandon all pretense of cohesion fairly quickly. ↩︎
  3. Many of you undoubtedly know exactly which one I’m talking about. ↩︎
  4. I’ll note that ADF (whose new website I just noticed) is a bit different than some Druid organizations in that it does not limit itself, its members, or its groves to Celtic reconstructionism. It welcomes and encourages the exploration of any and all Indo-European cultures, their myths, and their religious traditions. However, my friend and the proto-grove he hoped to established were focused on Irish myths and culture. ↩︎
  5. This is where I make most of the Heathens reading this post groan (or worse) by confessing that my foray into the runes started with getting a copy of Ralph Blum’s “Book of Runes.” Don’t worry, though. My studies quickly expanded to sources more rooted in Norse cosmology, mythology, and lore. ↩︎
  6. Okay, Odin occasionally shows up with some lesson he wants me to learn or a change he wants me to make. But my practice and devotion is definitely focused on Freyja. ↩︎
  7. I forget where I picked it up from, but I’ve adopted the practice of describing practices that bear similarities to various shamanic practices as “shamanistic” while reserving the term “shamanic” to refer to practices that are part of a vocation in certain cultures. ↩︎
  8. In the past, I’ve asserted that the sexual (and other) energy often found at a rave in the city is as much a manifestation of nature as an idyllic site in the forest and I’m inclined to stand by that claim. ↩︎
  9. My brain is also slow-baking a retelling of the myth of Thor’s encounter with Utgard-Loki where Utgard-Loki is the protagonist, protecting the untamed places from Thor and his compatriots, whom he saw as invaders. I think this retelling would underscore the dangers of destroying the untamed places by imposing too much order on them. But I’m just a witch who thinks a certain level of chaos is needed for life to thrive in the end. ↩︎

Pondering how syncretic my path may be: Free-styling it for chapter 7 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday, readers. Today, I continue blogging my way through Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. The chapter I’ll be discussing is chapter seven, which is titled “Syncretism and Blending Paths.” And once again, I’ll be free-styling it, as the prompts provided at the end of the chapter don’t really apply to me. They’re mostly geared toward people who are trying to blend two religious traditions or considering it, and that doesn’t quite feel like it applies to me.

The closest I get to blending two religious traditions is the fact that I’m a polytheistic witch and devotee of Freyja who also happens to attend online service at a progressive Christian church. But I don’t consider myself Christian and there’s very little about Christian cosmology or theology that appeals to me.1

About the only time I really considered following two separate traditions, they were both Pagan traditions. In fact, I’d say they were both witchcraft traditions. Back when I considered seeking initiation into the Alexandrian tradition,2 I already had a working relationship with Freyja and had no intentions of giving that up.3 So had I gone through with initiation, I would have been in service to both the Alexandrian deities and mysteries and Freyja and the relationship I had with her.

In other ways, I do feel like I’m a bit syncretic in my practice anyway. After all, my journey to my current spiritual practice took me through a few different traditions,4 and I feel like I picked up a little something from each one that I still carry with me. And as I’ve mentioned before, as a Norse Pagan witch, I seem to fall somewhere between witchcraft and Heathen reconstructionism. And I’d say those two influences are about evenly matched. In some ways, I’m still trying to harmonize them as I flesh out and expand upon the details of my practice. But the influences from the other traditions seem so small to me that I wouldn’t consider myself to be practicing any of them.

Footnotes

  1. You might wonder why I attend a church at all then, dear reader. It’s a fair question. The only answer I can give is that the online live chat during the service is awesome and I enjoy he conversations we have there while listening to the music and sermons. Also, I find that the pastor there preaches some great values and principles that mimic my own despite the fact that I prefer to express them through a different mythology and theological framework. ↩︎
  2. I think this is the third time I’ve mentioned this. Am I talking about it too much? Is it something I should actually do a separate post about someday? I’ll have to ponder these questions. ↩︎
  3. In the Yahoo Group where we discussed British Traditional Wicca, another seeker mentioned they already had a commitment to another deity and asked if they would be expected to give that up. At least one of the elders (I forget which tradition) seemed almost aghast at the idea and commented that if the seeker did so, they weren’t sure they’d want to initiate that seeker. Setting aside commitments is not something that crowd takes lightly, it seems. ↩︎
  4. In order: Non-initiatory Wicca, Druidry, Asatru, Norse Pagan witchcraft (which I never fully left despite exploring another path later), and initiatory Wicca. ↩︎

Desiring sacred community: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 6 of “Changing Paths”

Hello and happy Friday, dear readers! In today’s post, I want to explore a journal prompt Yvonne Aburrow offers at the end of chapter six of their book, Changing Paths. This chapter is titled “The Conversion Process.” Here’s the prompt:

What do you experience as sacred? What do you regard as important, special, emotionally significant?

I’ve given a lot of thought over the past few years on what I think it means to call sacred. Most recently, I did a video on the subject:

I then did a couple of follow-up videos: one on the sacred self and the other one about acknowledging the sacred in others. I think that these three videos together make it clear that I think everything and everyone is sacred. I also think they give a glimpse into what it means to me to treat oneself, others, and even the world in light of that understanding.

As such, I’d like to focus on where this is currently leading me personally at this time. My belief that both I and the other are sacred has me focusing more on building and nurturing relationships between the sacred self, sacred others, and the sacred world. I find myself looking more at the importance of community.1

Wen I first came to Paganism and witchcraft, I was greatly focused on myself. I was relieved to find a spiritual tradition and magical practice that focused on empowering myself and celebrating my own worth. At the time, this was necessary, given the ways my former religious upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth and value.

But as I’ve matured over the past couple decades, I’ve begun shifting my focus toward the people and the world around me. As someone who is confident in my own value and worth,2 I started once more looking for ways to connect with others and even help others. I wanted to share my experiences and what wisdom I have gained from them with others. In fact, this is one of my primary motivators in maintaining this blog, as well as some of my other projects.

Right now, a lot of this effort is focused online, though I’m starting to crave local community as well. I haven’t figured out what that looks like for me these days. I’m not sure if I would be best served by re-joining the local Pagan and Witches meetup (assuming they are back to having in-person meetings in addition to the online ones), getting involved with the local metaphysical shop, or starting my own coven or kindred. That latter one has a certain appeal to me, but I have my reservations, including whether there are others in the area that would want to work magic and/or honor the gods in the way that i do.3 Plus I’m not sure I have a well-enough defined ritual or focus to really build a communal practice. That may be something I work on developing, though.

So I suppose even after all these years, my path is still evolving and progressing. I’m not sure where my desire to have, build, and nurture community will lead me. But that’s what’s on my mind right now. Mainly because that connection with sacred others is what I value and desire most right now.

Footnotes

  1. One of the things that I love about this chapter and the book in general is how central Aburrow has made the concept of community to their discussion of religion and finding a religious home. ↩︎
  2. Though I do try to maintain a modicum of humility. After all, becoming an ego-maniacal boor would be an undesirable over-correction. ↩︎
  3. I’m in a weird niche where I tend to be too Norse-focused for most Wiccans and other witches, yet too “loosey-goosey” with ritual style for most Heathens’ comfort. ↩︎

My religious deal-breakers: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 5 of “Changing Paths.”

Hello readers and happy Friday! Time to tackle another journal prompt from Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This week, we’re looking at chapter 5, which is titled “At the Crossroads.” Unlike the previous two chapters, I easily fell in love with the thought of blogging about one of the journal prompts at the end of this chapter. And boy, is it a doozy!

Make a list of features that any religion or philosophical system that you would consider getting involved in should not have. Your list could include beliefs, values, rituals, metaphors, and practices.

Before I start pulling out my “laundry list” and discussing it, I should note that this is today’s list of my deal-breakers. I’m not sure everything would have been on my list back in 1998 when I was making my break from Christianity. After all, my only goal in 1996 was to make peace with the fact that I was gay. I didn’t plan on changing any other aspect of my faith at that time. But that’s the thing about such lists. They change and grow as we do. We need to allow them to change. Maybe we’ll add new items to the list. Maybe we’ll take some items back off it, or at least clarify what exactly it is we’re opposed to. But let’s get on with my current deal-breakers.

Homophobia and Transphobia

Homophobia would have definitely been on my list of deal-breakers back in 1998. In fact, it was the original deal-breaker that kicked off my deconstruction process. Being a gay man who had realized that denying my sexuality and denying myself fulfilling sexual experiences and relationships was unhealthy for me, I realized that I needed a religion that accepted, embraced, and celebrated my sexuality instead.

Back then however, I did not know much about tans issues. In fact, I’m not sure I had even heard of being trans. If I had, I probably thought it was some sort of “extreme gayness” rather than something different (though often related) to sexual orientation.1

But as I got to know trans people, I saw how their own struggles were often similar to my own. Furthermore, my own trials, tribulations, and harms at the hands of my religious upbringing caused me to experience empathy and compassion for trans people. As such, I want a religion that accepts, embraces, and celebrates them as much as it does me me. In fact, this leads to my next deal-breaker.

Bigotry, Exclusion, and the Establishment of Second Class Members

That same compassion for myself and trans people continued to expand outward, causing me to oppose all bigotries and the various ways a religion might exclude certain groups of people or even treat them as second class members if they were accepted into the religion at all. So I began to see ableism, racism, and sexism as deal-breakers as well.

I will note that I don’t understand these issues and how they express themselves as well as I’m familiar with homophobia, its manifestations, and its effects. I’m still learning about transphobia too, for that matter. So this is an ongoing process for me and one that I doubt I will ever truly complete.

Self-Denigration

This was another deal-breaker that I had back in 1998 and likely the second one I added. My evangelical upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth with its constant messaging that I was a sinner in desperate need of grace, which I had been literally taught was “mercy that I did not deserve.” It was this messaging and the toll it took on my self-esteem that eventually made me realize that I needed a clean break from Christianity altogether. 2

I need (and fortunately found) a religion that embraced me as the wonderful person I am, full of inherent value and worth. Sure, I’m not perfect and needed to improve in many ways. But I am valuable and am worth improving due to that value. My improvement as a person has become a gift I give myself rather than something I have to do to try to appease some deity (and then grovel before that deity when I fail to meet his standard.)

Hell (or Any Other Eternal Punishment)

This is another deal-breaker that was quickly added if it was not on my list in 1998. As I made friends outside of Christian circles after coming out as gay and relying on them for emotional support, I struggled with my belief that these same people were going to be condemned to suffer for eternity simply for believing the “wrong” things. It seemed unfair and cruel, especially considering how much they were helping me keep myself together at the time.

Later, I began to think about the whole idea of hell and realized that in general, the idea of tormenting anyone (or allowing any to be tormented) forever was pure cruelty. I could not believe any deity worth respecting — let alone worshiping — would do such a thing.

This line of thinking eventually led me to thoughts that caused me to add the next two deal-breakers.

A Focus on Retributive or Punitive Justice

As I got thinking about the cruelty of hell, I also began to question what justice was altogether. I began to realize that retributive justice and punitive justice made no sense to me.3 It does nothing to restore those harmed by injustice or improve their circumstances. And even the argument of reform does not make sense if the punishment only comes at the end of the wrongdoer’s life. There’s no time for them do anything positive with their newly reformed ways.

A Focus on the Afterlife

I came to realize that there had to be more to this life than treating it as a test for getting into the preferred afterlife or gaining more converts to join you there. I began to sense that this life was what is important and what we did here matter for what the results here mattered. As such, I realized I needed (and thankfully found) a religion that not only offered insights into how to live a good and happy life here, but sought to celebrate that life for itself.

Divine Command Theory

Divine Command Theory is the moral philosophy that morality is noting more than the divine dictates of God or a group of deities. I am not a fan of this model, because it makes the entire concept of morality arbitrary. I also find it strange — and a bit of circular reasoning — that some religious people will tell you that God declares what is good and also that God is good. If God gets to declare that he is good like that, it is a meaningless statement.

I prefer to find a standard of morality that exists outside of the arbitrary dictates of an authoritarian figure. And that brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Authoritarianism

As someone who values critical thinking and independence, I am not a fan of authoritarianism. I certainly don’t want it in my religion. i want a religion where i can think for myself, grapple with the beliefs and values presented to me. I want the freedom to question and argue with the religious leaders — and even the deities themselves. And it’s even better if they celebrate me for doing so.

I like to think of my relationships with my deities as being centered on dialogue and cooperation, not subservience and unquestioning obedience.

Exclusive Claims to Truth and Totalizing Systems

Aburrow introduces the concept of totalizing systems later in the book (Chapter 7) and defines4 it as “an exclusive or sectarian system that also subsumes all other paradigms rather than accepting that other paradigns exist alongside it.” I have seen too much value in other religions — including religions that I probably would never follow personally — to just discount them as unimportant, let alone invalid. I much prefer approach that states “this is what we do/believe and others are free to believe/do as they please.” Which brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Proselytization

I have no desire to have people convince me to join their religion, nor do I wish to convince others to join mine. I strongly believe that the search for meaning and a connection with the numinous is a deeply personal one driven by an individual’s needs and context. Trying to force people to fit their personal journey into some predefined box strikes me as a sort of violence.

This is not to say I won’t share information about my religion with others. And if someone expresses a desire to follow my religion, i will gladly help them along in that process. But that is only if they come to me seeking such aid. I do not wish to go out actively seeking converts, let alone trying to convince people they need to convert.

Monotheism

I”m not sure this is a deal-breaker so much as just something I no longer believe. I don’t think I could believe it at this point. I think a polytheistic or animistic view of the numinous makes far more sense.

A “Three-O Compliant” Deity

This term is my own invention and a bit of a nod to my career as a software engineer, which is full of such jingoistic buzzwords. What I mean by it is the qualities that some monotheists attribute to their god: omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence.5 I actively reject the notion that any deity possesses the first two qualities and I have my doubts about the third.

Again, I’m not sure this is a true deal-breaker as it is something I just cannot believe anymore. I think the deities have their limits.6 I also believe that the deities are still growing and learning, so they can’t possibly be omniscient.

Closing Thoughts

That’s quite the list. I’m not sure it’s complete (after all, I didn’t cover sexual ethics in general), but I think it’s a great first attempt. As I noted, I reserve the right to update this list (possibly in a future blog post) in the future.

As I wrote this post, I also thought it might be interesting to explore what I want in my religion now that I’ve indicated a bunch of things I don’t want. I may have to do a future blog post on that subject.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear from my readers. Do you agree any of my deal-breakers? Do you disagree with them? Do you have other deal-breakers? Feel free to share them and your reasoning in the comments below.

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this has often been the position that anti-gay Christians — especially the conversion therapy proponents — have taken, either explicitly or implicitly. Often, their ideas about homosexuality and being trans is deeply rooted in strict gender roles and gender stereotypes. So everything that breaks from patriarchal cisheteronomativity tends to get homogonized into the same bucket. ↩︎
  2. I want to note that this statement is describing what was the best choice for me at the time. This is not a prescriptive declaration about what others should do. I fully acknowledge that others have managed to find a version of Christianity that affirms their inherent worth and value. That just isn’t my story. ↩︎
  3. This applies to more than just my theology, by the way. I’m deeply troubled by the way our criminal justice system seems to focus on punishing criminals. Sometimes, proponents of the current system will argue that they’re actually trying to reform criminals. However, research has shown that punishments are not a good method of reform. So that argument falls flat in my opinion. ↩︎
  4. I suspect this is actually a definition they got from another source, but I don’t recall what that source was or whether they cited it. ↩︎
  5. Recently, I’ve noticed some people — mostly atheists criticizing the Christian god — also mentioning omnibenevolence. It’s a term we never used when I was an evangelical Christian, but we certainly believed God was omnibenevolent. We just phrased it as “God is love.” So I have considered re-branding my term as “Four-O Compliance.” Also, for anyone wondering I have my doubts about whether any deity is truly omnibenevolent, either. I tend to think that the nature of the Divine is more complex than that. ↩︎
  6. This is where I note my controversial opinion that I don’t think any theist actually believes that their god is omnipotent. For example, start asking Christians about the problem of evil or how they justify eternal conscious torment and they’ll start saying things like their “all-powerful” god can’t be in the presence of sin. That sounds like a limitation on their god to me. ↩︎

Covens as a model for small groups?

A little over a week ago, Meghan Crozier offered the following cheeky comment1 over on Twitter:

https://twitter.com/thepursuinglife/status/1784019830280163693

While Meghan’s tweet was cheeky, a lot of us in the deconstruction community tend to have complicated feelings about small groups as we experienced them within the evangelical church (and possibly in other related authoritarian religious settings). Such small groups can often be another mechanism of control over members of the church and religion. They can also force a sense of intimacy between members of the group that they are not ready for and may not feel safe with.

And yet, as always, I’m the kind of person who is not ready to just throw the baby out with the bathwater2 and when I typed up my own response to Meghan’s tweet I came to a realization: In witchcraft, covens are more or less small groups.3

Granted, there are a lot of witches and other Pagans that don’t like the thought of being in a coven. And I do have to wonder how many of them feel that way because they’re applying their baggage from past experiences in Christian churches to their perception of covens. But neither covens nor small groups have to be for everyone.

At its core, a coven is simply a small group of witches that get together to collectively work magic, explore whatever spiritual mysteries they might embrace, and serve any powers they might believe in. Also, coven members also meet together to learn and develop their witchcraft practice together. To my mind, this mirrors my experiences in church/Christian small groups.4

Personally, my experience with covens has been greatly positive, and think that kind of comradery comes with great benefits. I also think that there are a few key features of covens that typically prevent them from having the same problems as church/Christian small groups.5

The biggest difference is that the evangelical church (and similar churches) tends to be quite authoritarian in structure and outlook, and that tends to get replicated in their small groups as a matter of course. Such small groups have leaders that tend to be able to exert a certain amount of influence and power over the other members of the group. Then the group itself is typically under the authority of the pastor (and other members of leadership) of the church itself. In most churches, a pastor or the elders can pressure small group leader about how they run the group and even disband the group altogether.6

Covens tend to be far more autonomous. Indeed, most covens are an island unto themselves. Even in an initiatory tradition like Alexandrian Wicca, once a Witch7 is elevated to the third degree and establishes their own coven, that Witch is free to run that coven independently.8

Similarly, individual coven members are given the autonomy to stay or leave as they please. So even if a coven leader has ultimate authority on coven matters (and they often do), members who don’t like the direction being taken are free to “vote with their feet” and leave.9 Typically, since a coven with no members ceases to exist, this leads most coven leaders to at least listen to other members’ input and seek out ways to keep them around. (Though there is such a thing as a coven and an individual not being a good fit, and parting ways really is the best and only option.)

In my experience, the way that intimacy and vulnerability is encouraged and developed tends to be different between church small groups and covens. Many church small groups feel to me like they force the members to become vulnerable to and intimate with the rest of the group. The moment you join such a small group, it’s expected — and those expectations are often explicitly stated — that you will start sharing deeply personal details about yourself, experiences you’ve, and even “sins” you’re “struggling with.” This is a level of intimacy and vulnerability that could be weaponized against you (and many have experienced exactly that) and you’re expected to submit to it before there’s been any effort to build any assurance that it won’t be.

Covens also tend to require a similar level of intimacy and vulnerability,10 but much more time is typically spent building up the sense of trust and safety between members before then. To illustrate what I’m saying here, I want to talk about my own past a bit.

Back in the 2000s, I joined a Yahoo Group where initiates and seekers discussed British Traditional Wicca. I had learned about non-initiatory (“eclectic”) Wicca and had decided it wasn’t for me. At that time, I had also discounted initiatory Wicca, assuming it was basically the same thing. As I joined the list, I learned that the assumption was incorrect and found out that in many ways, the Wicca the initiates and elders of the group discussed seemed far more similar to the kind of witchcraft I practiced. So I became a fairly involved member of the group, posed questions, and even shared my own thoughts. As a result, I ended up making friends with a number of members in the group.

One of the people I made friends with was an Alexandrian High Priestess who was living in the province of Ontario in Canada. We began to exchange emails outside of the group and after about a year, she invited me to a public Pagan event in Ontario. I accepted and had a great time, not least of which because I got to finally meet a Witch I had come to admire and respect.

After that first in-person meeting, we continued to converse via emails and I think we even met in person in public a couple more times. Eventually, though, she invited me to come visit her and her husband at her home and even spend a weekend with them. I accepted and made the six hour trek on the appointed Friday. While there, I met her husband, and a couple of members of both her coven and her outer court. I even had the opportunity to attend one of her outer court rites, which was a deeply moving experience.

It was during this trip that we discussed the possibility of me training with and eventually becoming an initiate in her coven.11 Note that it took one to two years to even get to that first conversation. During that time, we had talked frequently, met a few times, and had already started building a relationship. And while the idea of joining an Alexandrian coven was still scary, I felt that if I was going to join one, this was the one I’d probably be able to trust.

And my would-be High Priestess was okay with my trepidation. She expected it. She did not chide me for it, but took it in stride. At one point during that weekend, the topic of ritual nudity came up once. Like most people, the thought of being naked around other people made me uncomfortable. She acknowledged that and simply said that it’s something we could work on in time if I wanted to pursue membership in her coven.12

I think this slow build-up without a sense of pressure to join, fit in, or become immediately intimate with a small group is vital to healthy small group dynamics.

I’d be interested to hear what thoughts my readers have on this topic. Do you think my comparison is a fair one? Do you think there are other ways that covens demonstrate ways to create and maintain a healthy small group? Do you think there are potential pitfalls that are unique to covens? If so, how would you recommend preventing them from arising or mitigating them? Let us know in the comments.

Footnotes

  1. I should note that while that Tweet was cheeky, the thread she was quoting from when making it was quite serious. In that thread, Meghan was talking about one manifestation of the all-too-human tendency for many of us who are deconstructing our white evangelical Christian backgrounds to recreate some of the problematic elements and patterns from those backgrounds in our new spaces and communities. This is a real problem and one that Meghan and Cortland Coffey discuss somewhat frequently, both on social media and in various episodes of the podcast they host together. ↩︎
  2. I daresay that when I left my evangelical faith, I threw out just about every shred of doctrine, but kept a few nuggets of subtle theology, a handful of values I still found useful, a few ideas about community I found helpful, and some spiritual techniques. Not much of it is particularly Christian anymore, but I like to acknowledge where i picked these things up from, as it’s a part of my history. ↩︎
  3. I suspect a similar argument could be made about at least some Heathen kindreds and Druid groves as well. Though both of those are at least theoretically allowed to grow to any size. However, covens are typically expected to be kept rather small. For example, in Wicca, the maximum size for a coven is traditionally set at thirteen members. It’s expected that a coven that grows larger than that will spit into two or more independent (yet related) covens. ↩︎
  4. A lot of my experience with small groups doesn’t come from church, but from my involvement with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship while I was earning my bachelor’s degree. ↩︎
  5. Note that all-important word “typically” in that statement. There are covens and Pagan groups and organizations that are imperfect and absolutely have the same problems as many evangelical (and similar) churches. This is why it’s important to take note if a particular organization, group, or coven doesn’t fit the broad brushstrokes I’m painting with here. If it doesn’t, then what I’m saying will not apply to that particular organization, group, or coven. Also, covens often have their own problems that are different from the problems many of us have with Christian small groups. Those are just beyond the scope of this blog post. ↩︎
  6. Technically, members of a small group would be able to continue meeting without the official blessing of the church. However, given the authoritarian nature of evangelical Christianity (and similar Christianities), I suspect most members would consider this rebellious. Authoritarian followers often feel the need for the approval of the person in authority. It’s one of the things most of us who leave such religious environments need to deconstruct most. ↩︎
  7. While I do not capitalize “witch” in general or when speaking about myself, I am making a conscious effort to do so in this instance. This is because it is a common (though not universal) practice in Wicca to treat “Witch” as a religious term for its members similar to how followers n Christianity are called “Christians” and therefore capitalize it accordingly. ↩︎
  8. There are a few caveats to this. For example, if a coven’s founder starts practicing a different tradition in their coven or changes the practices of the tradition to a degree, the leaders of the coven that taught them may determine that the new coven is no longer practicing the same tradition and not recognize it’s new members/initiates as members of the original tradition. But they cannot stop the leader of the new coven from doing so. Similarly, most new coven leaders tend to seek the advice and guidance of their initiators, appreciating their past experience and wisdom. But again, they are ultimately free to run their own coven as they see fit. At least this is what I’ve learned from the initiatory Wiccans I’ve spoken to. I’m sure if any of them see this and disagree, they’ll be sure to voice their dissent with my assessment. ↩︎
  9. Technically, this option is available to members of Christian small groups as well. However, given the authoritarian nature and claims of exclusivity (i.e. the idea that the very fate of your eternal soul depends on belonging to that particular religion and possibly even that particular church), the thought of just leaving becomes much scarier than it is for a witch, most of whom know they will not suffer for eternity if they’re not part of any coven, let alone a particular coven. ↩︎
  10. I’ll note that witches don’t seem to be as obsessed with “sin” or moral failings though. Our tendency in with regards to moral failings is to take an attitude of, “I messed up. I need to do what I can to clean up after myself and learn from it so I do better in the future.” So conversations within a coven or other group of witches about such things is going to be more focused on asking for advice or assistance in cleaning up with oneself rather than endless self-recrimination and confessions of guilt and shame. This seems to be a common theme of “bonding” among Christian small groups, however. ↩︎
  11. For a variety of reasons, that never manifested. A huge reason for it was that I simply wasn’t ready to take that kind of plunge at that time. By the time I might have been ready, both of our life circumstances had changed so it was no longer an option. I still think of her regularly and often feel a deep sadness that I’ve lost contact with her since then. I’ve made efforts to find her again, but to no avail. I hope you’re doing well, C, wherever you are. (I don’t want to mention her name, as I feel weird doing so, as if I’m name-dropping.) ↩︎
  12. I’ll also note that she had acknowledged me as a fellow witch worthy of respect long before this point. I simply was a different kind of witch. She was simply offering me an invitation to join her family and learn her tradition alongside my current witchcraft practices. I think that a lot of people mistakenly assume that British Traditional Wiccans don’t think the rest of us are “real witches,” but that hasn’t been my experience at all. ↩︎

A weird boy, but definitely a boy: Freestyling it again for chapter 4 of “Changing Paths”

This Friday, I’ll be blogging some of my thoughts from reading Chapte 4, “Religion and Gender” of Yvonne Aburrow’s1 book, Changing Paths. Once again, I’m totally ad-libbing this post, as none of Yvonne’s wonderful prompts and exercises for this chapter jumped out at me or seemed suited to my blogging purposes.2

It’s taken me a bit to figure out what I was going to say about this chapter. To be honest, my gender was not a huge issue during my Christian upbringing. Certain, my sexual orientation was a huge issue, but in terms of gender, I was a cis man, which evangelical and other authoritarian forms of Christianity tend to practically cater to. Certainly, there are gender expectations within such forms of Christianity that I could not meet as a gay man — namely the idea of becoming a faithful husband and father of the next generation of culture warriors.3 But as a cis male, I was not seen as someone destined to be in a subservient role or someone trying to go against God’s design (again, other than the whole being gay thing).

My church also did not get too explicit about the gender essentialism either, nor did they push strict gender roles. While my church certainly wasn’t a bastion of full egalitarianism. no one there would have dreamed of releasing an official church statement reaffirming that wives were to submit to their husbands, to give just one example.4

In some ways, ideas about gender is something I still had to deconstruct when I converted to witchcraft and Paganism. I found a lot of freedom in being able to embrace a female deity, though it took me a few months to a year to resolve the idea of Divinity being at least partly female.5

It’s been interesting for me as a man primarily dedicated to and working with Freyja. It seems in some Pagan and witchcraft circles that it’s typically thought that men will dedicate themselves to a god and women will dedicate themselves to a goddess. In Wiccan circles, the High Priestess typically invokes the Goddess or has Her drawn down into her. and her male working partner invokes the God or has HIm drawn down into him.6 So in some ways, I’m a bit of a oddity in at least some Pagan and witch circles.

Another thing that is always in the back of my mind is something that doesn’t have to do with religion directly is a conversation i once had with an online feminist friend. (I think it was the blogger who went by the name Fannie Wolfe, but don’t recall for sure.) She observed that it is often the case that what it means to be a man is defined in opposition to what it means to be a woman (and then presented as being superior to it). I often come back to that thought when I’m trying to figure out what it means for me to say that I’m a man. I have yet to come up with a good definition. though listening to people like D.E. Anderson7 has helped me gain a vague perspective.

I also think this is one of those areas where Paganism as a whole tends to muddy the waters from time to time. After all, there’s a tendency in some Pagan circles to classify everything as “masculine” or “feminine,” and those often fit our wider culture’s gender stereotype. For example, masculine energy is often described s that which is “active” and “aggressive” while feminine energy is seen as that which is “passive” and “receptive.” Those of us who work closely with a goddess like Freyja are left laughing and/or scratching our heads.8 Our own deities don’t fit well into the masculine/feminine divide!

Working with Freyja has also helped me to accept that fuzziness around what it means for me to be a man is just a part of life. In fact, I don’t think that what it means to be a man is that high a priority for me.9 I know that whatever it means for me and no matter how I perceive myself, my deities will accept me and honor who I am.

Footnotes

  1. It occurs to me that while I’ve linked to Yvonne’s Threads profile multiple times, I have yet to mention that they also have a blog or provide a link to it. Consider this footnote my initial effort to correct that. ↩︎
  2. I hope it’s clear that I’m not intending this as a criticism of Yvonne. I think their prompts and exercises are fantastic and can see why other people reading this book will likely find them helpful to being the point of a god-send. But I’m also probably not quite the best exemplar of their target audience for the book, either. I went through the majority of my faith change(s) over two decades ago. (If only Yvonne could go back in time and release this book back then.) ↩︎
  3. I’ll also note that the whole Joshua Generation movement didn’t get started until the early-to-mid 2000s, roughly half a decade after I left Christianity altogether as an adult. So while there was a general consensus that Christian parents should raise faithful Christian children when I was growing up, there wasn’t the explicit message about raising up a generation of Christian soldiers to take over the country, either. ↩︎
  4. I’ll also note that gender roles were not strictly held in my own home. For example, my father frequently did laundry on the weekends. This was because my father was a practical man who (1) realized the laundry still needed to be done on weekends when my mother was working at the hospital and (2) was often just looking things to do to keep busy. I have always admired my father’s practicality and like to think I’ve inherited a bit of that from him. ↩︎
  5. At the time, i said that I considered God to be “genderless” and therefore the idea of applying any gender to the Divine struck me as weird. In time, I’ve come to realize this was a bit of self-delusion on my part. God in my mind had been male because male was the default. Granted, I’ll also note that I tended to link gender with sex and anatomy at the time, which made it that much easier to convince myself that God was “genderless,” because what does God need with genitals? Needless to say, my understanding of gender has evolved since then and continues to expand, particularly as I learn more about/from my trans friends. ↩︎
  6. I want to stress that I’m talking about what I understand to be common or typical. There are exceptions. In fact, a cursory search of Yvonne’s blog (because I just knew they must’ve said something about this topic at least once) found a blog post talking about how roles in ritual are and can be assigned. In the comments section, they even come out in support of drawing down deities across genders. I’d invite Yvonne (or anyone else who, unlike me, is actually Wiccan) to offer further resources in the comments of this post as well as any necessary corrections to my statements on the topic. ↩︎
  7. Mx. Anderson uses their full first name when writing professionally due to the fact that their first two books were published before they came out as non-binary. However, in more social settings, they tend to go by their first and middle initials. As I tend to spend a good bit of time socializing with them online, I tend to go with their initials when speaking to/about them.. ↩︎
  8. I could spend a day coming up with adjectives for Freyja and “passive” would never come up or be met with hysterical laughter if it did. ↩︎
  9. I acknowledge that the ability to say that is a sign of cis privilege. After all, it’s easy to not worry about what it means to be a man when it’s rare for anyone to challenge whether I have any business calling myself a man and every fiber of my being agrees with my self-assessment that I am a man. ↩︎

The uniqueness among religions

During my recent appearance on Di the Yoga Witch’s podcast, we got talking about our views on deities. And I provided a few thoughts on why I tend to favor hard polytheism — or at least treating the deities and individuals rather than the same deity (or divine couple) by different names. Here’s what I had to say:1

For those who may not have the time or ability to watch or listen to the video here’s a somewhat edited2 transcript of what I said:

I think one of the other things — and again, I think this is just my personal opinion, my approach to things. All due respect to anyone who take things differently. I’m not here to get into witch wars about whose theology is right and whose understanding of the deities is right. This is just mine. But from my perspective too, the uniqueness is important. One of the problems I see with “they’re all the same” is that there gets to be this homogenization and you lose some of that uniqueness and you lose some of those subtle stories. I’m sorry, the myth of the goddess as recorded by Gerald Gardner and the myth of the Descent of Inanna? Yes, there are some very broad brush similarities, but they also have their own individual story to tell. It’s in those details and those subtle differences…..

That’s the other thing. I’m very strong about myths and understanding meanings and I think that myths can have multiple meanings. For example, I have a couple different readings of the Binding of Fenrir. I have the one version that I tell that focus on Tyr sacrificing his hand. He puts his hand in the wolf’s mouth and makes a promise he knows he’s going to break. And he’s going to lose his hand. But because that’s what’s needed to save the world, he makes that sacrifice. That’s a story expressing that sometimes, seeking justice and doing the right thing does involve sacrifice.

On the flip side, I have a different telling of that same myth where I am a staunch believer that the Aesir, the Norse gods, did that poor doggie wrong. What they did to him was not right. I can hold both of those understandings of that myth in my mind at the same time.

That’s the kind of thing that exploring those meanings of the myths kind of get lost sometimes when you say “they’re all the same.” And I have the same issue with comparative mythology. Not that I think comparative mythology is totally worthless. But at some point you have to appreciate the uniqueness of each story and each personality and each portrayal.

I think this uniqueness applies to myths and deities, but religions in general. I think it’s important to understand that there are differences — both subtle and blatant — between many religions. They each have their own understanding of the world and the Divine (and there are even religions that have no concept of the Divine) is very different. Their goals are often quite different. And sometimes, even things that two religions appear to have in common are viewed quite differently.

I talked about this recently on Threads, where I addressed a number of misconceptions that some people seem to have about my religion by assuming it’s like the Christianity, the religion they’re most familiar with:

Hi. I am a religious person.

❌ I do not believe there’s only one god.

❌ I do not believe my deities are omnipotent or omniscient.

❌ I do not believe in original sin.

❌ I do not believe in heaven or hell.

❌ I do not believe that our eternal destination — assuming we even have one — is determined by where we have the correct beliefs or worship the “right d[eity.]

❌ I do not obey my deities without question.

❌ I do not believe everyone should honor my gods or even believe that they exist.

It’s been received well by adherents of other non-Christians religions (and even a few Christians who don’t believe in all of those points, either). I think it’s important that we appreciate our religion’s particular uniqueness and the uniqueness of other religions.

That’s an important thing to remember. Saying my religion is unique doesn’t mean that my religion is superior to other religions. I think that’s something that gets forgotten given the dominance of one or two religions who do push the idea that their religion is superior to the rest, and even try to manage this by pointing out how their religion “stands out” from the other religions.

To me, uniqueness is about identity, both individually and communally. By being part of my religion, I am a part of a community, and we have our own unique way of viewing ourselves, our world, and our values. And while other religions and communities may have very similar values, they express them in their own unique ways.

And as I often say, I’m a part of my religion because its unique way of seeing and expressing things speaks to and nourishes my soul in a way that other religions unique way of doing the same doesn’t. And I’m sure the people of those religions could say the same thing. And there’s something to be said about various religious communities coming together to celebrate both their common ground and their uniqueness. But to celebrate the latter, we first have to quit trying to erase the differences in an attempt at religious homogenization.

Footnote(s)

  1. Bear in mind that this is a small clip from a rambling conversation that lasted for over an hour. If you haven’t already done so, I’d strongly encourage you to check out the full episode over on Di’s YouTube channel. I provided a link to the full video earlier in this post. ↩︎
  2. I tried to limit my editing to removing filler words like “you know” and “um” as well. I also did not include Di’s responses, which are worth listening to when you have a chance. But they are not essential to this post. ↩︎

Being gaily religious and religiously gay: Blogging freestyle for chapter 3 of “Changing Paths.”

[Content Note: Frank sexual talk, including discussion of masturbation.]

This week, I want to blog about chapter three of Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This chapter is titled “Religion and Sexuailty.”

I’ve struggled a bit with figuring out how I want to handle this chapter. It’s the first chapter where none of the blog prompts really resonated with me in a way that made me think of a way to blog about them.1 So I’ve decided to “free-style” it and just share whatever thoughts on the topic came up while I was reading this chapter.

Of course, I’ve also struggled a bit with remembering what my thoughts and feelings were when reading this chapter. As of the time I’m writing this post, I’m ready to start chapter 11 in the book and will very likely have finished the entire book by the time it gets published. I guess that’s the one down side to establishing a posting schedule. But I shall do my best.

My relationship with my sexuality when I was an evangelical Christian was a complete mess, and not solely because I was gay. For those who may not be familiar with evangelical culture, purity culture is often a huge part of that, and my upbringing was no exception.

I will note that my experience with purity culture was not nearly as intense as some of my friends in the various deconstructing and former evangelical communities I’m involved with. While I got a few messages about how having sex before marriage makes you like a chewed up piece of gum or a tissue someone has already blown their nose into, I know many people who had those messages driven home to them far more frequently and emphatically than I ever did.

In some ways, I think I had it easier as a guy than many of my female friends did. There often seems to be a certain amount of “boys will be boys” mentality even among evangelicals when it comes to sex. This is not to say that boys get a free pass in purity culture, mind you. And there’s always that messaging that depicts men and boys as barely controlled monsters full of hormones and lust, so a lot of guys (and I wasn’t totally exempt from this myself) tend to have negative self-perceptions and internalize a lot of guilt and shame over perfectly normal urges.

That’s where it gets complicated for me. As a gay boy who is essentially a Kinsey 6. “Lusting”2 after girls and women was never really a problem. In fact, I remember trying to imagine kissing a female classmate when I was in high school and finding the idea weird and a little disturbing.

But when I eventually realized that I was attracted to male classmates, that became troubling. After all, the only thing worse (or so I thought) than lusting after a girl was lusting after a boy! I was devastated and spent years in denial, trying to convince myself that it was just a phase, then a few years trying to pray my way to deliverance from my “same sex attractions”3

As an aside, I was online acquaintances with Peterson Toscano and took part int he Beyond Ex-Gay website/movement, both of which got a mention in this chapter. That brought back pleasant memories.

In addition, like most teenage boys (and I suspect most teenagers in general), I greatly enjoyed pleasuring myself. I mean, why wouldn’t I? It feels good and offers some great health benefits. Granted, I didn’t know about the health benefits at the time. But it’s often difficult for a young person whose body is teaming with hormones to resist the urge. I did not resist them. Oh, I’d try, but I’d eventually give in and feel a mountain guilt over it.

In general, I’d say that purity culture tends to destroy young people’s connections to their bodies in addition to their sexuality in general. You’re taught to see your body as this great source of temptation and sinfulness, and that really messes you up. I know it certainly messed me up.

I think that’s one of the things that drew me to Freyja when I turned to Paganism. She is an unapologetically sexual goddess and owns her sexuality as something to be proud of. Furthermore, she embraces all expressions of sexuality, regardless of who you are attracted to or involved with.4 That’s something I needed, so I embraced her and learned to love myself, my body, and my sexuality.

It’s something I”m still working on in some ways, mind you. I do have certain body insecurities. But I know longer see my body or sexuality as a moral failing. And that’s a definite boon.

Footnotes

  1. I will note, however, that I absolutely loved the meditation Yvonne included at the end of this chapter. I have done similar exercises in my own witchcraft practice before, including an exercise that my mentor and would-be initiator had me do when I was exploring the possibility of becoming an initiate of the Minoan Brotherhood, which Yvonne mentioned in this chapter. ↩︎
  2. I will note that the way that purity culture turns all sexual desire — and especially sexual desire that’s not “purified” by romance and/or marriage — into something sinful and dirty totally grinds my gears. To the point that I once wrote something on the topic and titled it “Sacred Lust.” ↩︎
  3. I have complicated feelings about that phrase, given the way it’s used in ex-gay ministries and among conversion therapists. I am so thankful I can abandon it these days and just say I’m gay. But such organizations have long pushed the idea that even identifying as gay rather than just saying you “struggle with same-sex attractions” is bad. I’ve addressed that before. ↩︎
  4. If my readers will allow me to throw a but of unconfirmed personal gnosis out there, the only way I’ve seen to piss off Freyja when it comes to love and sexuality is if you weaponize them to abuse or otherwise intetionally harm another person. You do that, you better watch out. ↩︎

Another Podcast Appearance: Di the Yoga Witch

This past Thursday, I appeared live with Di the Yoga Witch on her podcast along with her friend Kat. (I didn’t think to ask if I could bring reinforcements!) We had a delightfully rambling conversation where we discussed various “witchy shit” in between random tangents and strolls down memory lane. (Di and I must have met nearly twenty years ago.) If you enjoy meandering conversations about everything from the “Witches of TikTok cursed the moon” rumor to what theistic witchcraft means to me to how lucky both Di and I are for ending up with men who are at least interested in witchcraft and Paganism, I’d encourage you to check it out.

This podcast appearance was another new experience to me, as Di streams her shows live, so we even got some feedback and interaction with one of the people who was watching at the time. It was also one of the most conversationally oriented podcast appearances i’ve made so far. Di and Kat (who I met for the first time tonight) were a delight to talk to.

About a week before the show, Kat had come up with a list of ten questions/conversation topics to possibly cover during the episode.1 We managed to get to six of them, and I could’ve still said a lot more about many of those. But alas, we went well over the planned hour (by sixteen minutes and twenty eight seconds, to be precise). So the other questions will just have to wait for another time.

And that’s the good news: I will be making another appearance on Di’s show. We haven’t set a date, but we both agreed there were more things we wanted to talk about — including things that were not included in the original list of questions. For example, Di would really love to talk to me more about deconstruction and religion in general.

So if you watch this conversation, let Di an myself know what you think!

Footnotes

  1. I will note that Kat deserves a lot of credit, because some of the questions suggest she did a bit of digging into what I’d said online. For example, one of the questions (which we covered) was about what it means to me to be a theistic witch. I would not expect that question from someone unless they’d looked around and noted I specifically refer to myself as such. ↩︎