A Declaration of Pagan Religious Rights and Duties

This is a draft of a statement of progressive socio-policy principles based on my understanding of basic Pagan religious choices and spiritual inclinations. While I have expressed it in the plural, it is my own reasoning and rhetoric, and no others’ – most notably it does not represent the opinion of ADF or any other group or whatsis with which I am associated. It is me at the end of a plank, neck stuck-out, right next to John Beckett this week.  

I invite critique. I have not attempted to fine-tune for obvious exceptions to these guidelines, which are many. I do not believe that setting simple rules and sticking to them without exception is generally wise, and so all this is offered only as an example of the kind of theological and values-thinking of which our movement is yet rather short.

I: Principles

1: Axiomata

• We declare that individual humans contain a worthy spark of the divine flame, a pure spring of the divine waters, and that the individual mind and will embody the divine will in those sparks and springs.

• We perceive that individuals are naturally entangled in the web of both nature and society (human nature). Therefore just as we owe honor to our own divine nature we owe conscious participation to our networks and the duty to ensure to individuals full and equal participation in all aspects of civic and religious life.

• We assert especially a holy sovereignty of the body, mind and will of living humans. Barring an unarguable need, it is not the business of community or individuals  to intrude on the choices of the flesh or spirit.

• We assert the divine freedom-of-action of every being as a primary Good. When such freedom is reduced the good of all is reduced, so let us be wary of responding to fear with restriction.

• Likewise we observe the interdependence of living things and systems, and acknowledge that individual will must often conform to larger need. In this we pray to wisdom for guidance.

• Because wellness and good outcomes are cumulative in a system we therefore undertake to seek wellness, wholeness and harmony in our lives and work.

• Thus we describe these principles, that we may seek that harmony for ourselves and our communities.

2: Property

• We perceive that the world and its beings belong each to ourselves. All being is holy life, and all life proceeds on its path as our interactions allow.

• It seems fair that individuals should claim such resources as are needed for their own life and work. When such claims are done in the public eye and with community consent we call such claiming ‘property’ and ‘ownership’.

• We assert the spiritual right to claim a hearth on the land, and take our spiritual place among the beings of the land. In this we follow the customs of our community, but we stand, at last, on our spiritual right of claiming.

• Such claiming bestows an equal responsibility for the well-being of the beings and communities of the land, balanced with our right to use resources according to our need. In this let us seek wisdom and balance.

• Therefor we also advise against greed. To hoard resources in private is to deprive community of its life-flow, for little beyond imagined benefit. Let wisdom teach the difference between prosperity and greed.

3: Gender, Love, and Pair-Bonding

• Perceiving gender-presentation to be a social construct, we affirm every individual’s holy right to be who they are led to be, according to their will and work.

• We assert that sexual and intimacy expression and the pursuit of sexual and intimate pleasure are of equal value to the bearing of children; that they develop and deepen the human person in ways otherwise unobtainable. We assert a religious right to seek sexual and intimate pleasure for our own sake, and that of the greater good of our communities.

• Therefore we acknowledge and celebrate the joining in Love of all people who are drawn together by true and holy Eros, or by Caritas, or even by Agape.

• Specifically we feel bound by religious duty to honor all bonds of loving union made between consenting persons. In this we again may take advice from the community, but we assert our religious right to sanction unions regardless of statute.

4: Duty to the Land

• We perceive the ‘ecosystem’ of the world around us as a direct expression of holy spiritual persons and powers, present in and as the land. A major part of our spiritual work is to establish and maintain relationship with those beings and systems.

• We choose to live as participants in the ecosystem in which we reside, doing our best to do good for both ourselves and for whole systems.

• Therefore we assert that human society has a collective duty to protect and maintain local and planetary ecosystems. We see a religious duty to pursue this work in our own lives, and in public policy, as we are able.

5: Duty to our Fellow-Humans

• We assert the individual sovereignty, as equally-noble spirits, of every mortal born. While fate and strength may set us all in our several places, we find no spiritual cause to see greater merit in one human ethnic clan, lineage, gender-group, or circumstance than in another. Individuals rise and fall according to our fates, and our heritage or biology need not be our destiny.

• We assert that it is contrary to harmony and beauty to grant privilege to one sort of human, or place restriction on another, based on the fate of their birth.

• Especially we hold that the gods and spirits are unconcerned with the family, ethnic, or gender heritage of their worshipers. Those who assert such things deform the truth.

• Therefore we welcome to the Hearth of Kinship and the Fire of Worship all who come with a guest’s heart, regardless of ethnic or gender presentation. We affirm a core of relationship with all humans.

6: Duty to the Gods and Spirits

• We perceive the divine in and as the uncountable beings of myth and lore, from the Ancient First Ones to the nearest garden-spirit. These beings great and small entwine in the webs of spiritual ecosystems.

• As ‘religion’ it is our work to help establish and maintain the relationships between mortals and the spirits. Therefore it is our religious duty and right to perform ceremonies of worship and spiritual craft, as our traditions teach.

• In this we claim all the customs and ways of those traditional religions; the raising of idols as presences of the divine; the establishment of Altars and Fires of Offering and worship; the honoring of the features and wonders of nature as the presence of the divine; the keeping of the Sacred Calendar, and the words and songs and deeds of ritual. Likewise we claim as part of holy tradition the practices of divination – sortilege, mediumship, and the seeking of omens; also the work of spiritual healing, and of spiritual methods of seeking luck, prosperity and blessing, which are often called ‘magic’.

II: Specifics

In light of these principles we claim these social and spiritual rights and duties of our religion, without disallowing any others which might reasonably follow from our premises:

• We assert the right to keep public and private rites of worship and offering without hindrance, and with the accommodation offered any religious body. This includes all the common works of religion – marriage, funeral, sacrament, and other personal-passages.

• We assert the right to make private spiritual services of the kind called divination and magic available to our folk and the community.

• We declare that every member of our society is kin, worthy of maintenance and the chance to contribute to the people’s good. We support societal effort to prevent and relieve disadvantage, hunger and want.

• We see that we, individually and collectively, owe the land the honor due a parent – to care for it as we would an aging Elder. We support careful restriction of commerce in service to those goals.

• We affirm the social equality of ‘queer’ sexual natures and gender non-conformity with the common norms. We affirm the value of personal sexual expression as greater than that of social conformity or regulation.

• We affirm reproductive autonomy and body sovereignty for all people. We support responsible reproductive planning for all people, and ready access to birth and pregnancy management for women and their doctors.

• We affirm the right to compose families and affection-groups as life and choice lead.

• Centrally we affirm both the sovereignty of individuals and the obligation of individuals toward the human collectives that sustain us, and likewise to the spiritual collectives existing in the worlds around us. Let us each keep our own flame, and come to the Fire of Sacrifice together.

How Do I Become A Pagan?

A direct question, from a Facebook Pagan group. Let me just fizz about it for a minute, and I’ll offer some direct answers.

Of course the fashionable answer, among all those who imagine themselves woke from the yoke of “religion”, is that one may do as one pleases and call that Paganism. Sigh… 

In my opinion there is simply no real thing in the world that can be whatever one decides it should be. To start at that point is simply to assume that one’s spiritual work is not real, but rather a game or fancy, devised by a whim. While I suppose that might be enough for some people, I assume that when someone asks how to ‘become’ a Pagan, they mean more.

Several answers seemed to recommend a set of “beliefs” as definitive of being Pagan. Often these were very general – “believe in the Earth”, etc. Nobody seemed prepared to offer any systematic set of ‘beliefs’, which I suppose is just as well.

My own opinion is that Pagan religious participation is not defined by beliefs. Beliefs, in religion, are mandatory opinions, and modern Pagan religion has very few of them. Some specific sects may have their own little lists, but even that seems the exception rather than the rule in Pagan sub-groups. There is no organized agreement among Pagans about what ideas must be a part of a system in order for it to be Pagan.

My opinion is that in order to “be Pagan” one must be doing Pagan religious activity. Ancient Paganism was defined by participation in traditional action – in the sacrifices, and festivals and events of the local community. In ancient ways nobody seems to have asked one another what they though the Gods “really were”, nobody tried to exclude (or include) other people based on their enshrined opinions (i.e. beliefs) about the gods and spirits, or about the old stories. Myths and old tales were not mandatory objects of belief, nor taken as literal fact. Many such things would have had the unspoken presumption of fact in the local culture – e.g. “of course there are spirits – we’re just talking about what kind…”. Skepticism of cultural norms is seldom popular, but those norms were not usually codified into scripture or statements of belief.

Practice was another matter. Many ancient polytheist traditions kept ‘scriptures’ that were essentially records of hymns, invocations, spells and other specific ritual elements. The Indic Vedas are the most famous of these, but examples are found in Persia, Greece, and Rome, as well as from the city states long prior to those nations. Some ritual traditions were as tightly-regulated as any modern ideology. In Rome if an error in the traditional work was made, or a bad omen occurred one simply cancelled the rite and tried again another time.

While most modern Pagan systems don’t take such a formal approach to ritual, our ways are often defined by the practice of formal rites, in which words, symbols and natural forces combine to seek a spiritual effect. In many formal sects of neopaganism, such as traditional initiatory Wicca, or some forms of Druidry, a formal outline of ritual has been developed, that defines the sects the way a colors of a bird’s wing define its family. One becomes a part of that tradition by being taught the ritual form, and learning to do it effectively.

Like many elements of tradition this emphasis on ritual and deliberate religious action has been greatly watered-down in the post-internet Pagan world. The same hipster-philosophers will explain that we do not ‘need’ formal practice in order to interact with spirit, and that we can do ‘whatever feels right’ as we develop our personal practice. While these assertions may be true in some circumstances and for some people, I find them to be very bad advice for new students. Spiritual practice is a set of skills, and it is sensible to approach learning any new skill by following the instruction of a skilled teacher.

Both ancient and modern Pagan religious tradition is characterized by a variety of teachers, schools and methods. Modern schools tend to descend from two or three major styles of ritual work, but local groups often have major variations and specific customs. This too directly resembles the ways of the ancients. At the most individual end every household, every private altar, may have our special ways and specific beings. The gods are not jealous, and our own home ways never need stop us from joining with our neighbors for community practice.

So – How does one become a Pagan? 

My short answer is:

By learning how to keep ways of Pagan spirituality, and then keeping them.

This means that it is a bit of work to actually become Pagan. You can’t do it (in any meaningful way) while reading this, simply by deciding to apply a new label to yourself. Instead you must take up the work as you would any skill, whether guitar-playing or spiritual devotion.

For some people it can be a short-cut to choose one of the public Pagan teaching groups and simply practice their ways for a year or three. Groups with long-time, tried and fixed methods can prevent wasted time by providing a coherent outline of learning. There are a number of such schools, allowing students to find which of them best suits. Some traditions of ritual and practice are also well-preserved in modern published materials.

Many modern people seem to have been conditioned against ‘joining’. For those who demand to do-it-themselves there are a number of activities that I think add up to actually doing Pagan ways. Being Pagan means, to me, actually doing Pagan ways.

Here’s a list of categories of work that can add up to a Pagan-style spiritual practice.

1: Good Reading. Popular Pagan publishing has a very hit-and-miss record of providing real information about the ancient ways. Find some good academic reading lists from on-line resources, and commit yourself to reading whole big, dry books, cover to cover. Look, Paganism will almost never ask you to fast for days, or crawl up a mountain on your knees… read some books!

2: Spend time in Nature. This needn’t be any fancier than you like. Simply getting yourself out of the straight lines and machine hum of human life is a teacher about Pagan spirit.

3: Choose a simple ritual form. There are choices – learn to cast a circle, learn to bless the Sacred Center, or any of a dozen similar methods in print. Simply find one you like, or write one, then learn to do it smoothly and with a sense of inspiration. Having simple ‘start and finish’ prayers can be enough, though the fact is that tradition usually prefers complexity.
3a: Consider keeping a Calendar: Setting yourself to do ritual work based on the course of the moon or the turning of the seasons can help provide an ‘excuse’ for actual practice.
4: Learn Simple Trance & Meditation. Oh yes you can. It’s like exercise – you can’t do it until you’ve done it a while. You have to just do it. If you don’t do it, you end up a couch-potato warrior.

5: Find a Local Pagan Temple. These days there are often public organizations making worship and teaching available to the general interested community. Attendance at such rites can help a solitary Pagan meet community, and work the seasonal blessings on a scale often unavailable at home. 

So, life is busy, and very few people really manage to keep busy with all five of these all the time. But if your goal is to have a Pagan spirituality then trying to keep at two or three of these going in your life will keep you developing and growing. In time you will probably come to have close feelings for some Gods, perhaps know the affection and protection of your Ancestors, and deepen your wonder at the non-human beings of the spiritual worlds. In that way we hope to walk in harmony with all things, without strife.

Spirits, Daemons, Gods - Toward a Coherent Model

In the development of Neopagan religious practice and discourse several disputes have arisen concerning the true nature of the gods and spirits. In my opinion these disputes arise mainly due to the remains of Judeo-Christian theological thinking, combined with the influence of modern skepticism and rationalism. As one who finds consideration of theology and metaphysics useful, I will attempt to venture perhaps further into such speculations than is common in our modern Pagan discussion.

The Reality of the Spirits

Let me begin by saying that for this discussion we will treat the world of spirits as ‘real’. In this we need not adopt any firm description of the final nature of that reality. Whether it is a subcategory of ‘material’ manifestation within the quantum foam, or a psycho-linguistic field, or an epiphenomenon of human telepathy, or any other thing, the whole world – every culture in every age – has experienced the presence of the spirits. Communication; direct material action, possession and para-personal expression are just some of the spirit-phenomena common to many or most human cultural experiences. Materialist science has devised a number of clever efforts that attempt to ‘explain away’ such phenomena.  In the mythic reality of our Paganism, let us begin by taking spirits as given, and making it our business to know how to deal with them well. 

While we may not be able to box up the ‘True nature’ of spirits, we can approach them as phenomena, and discuss the traits that humans have seen. To avoid a long summary of world-wide evidence, I will presume to propose a list of general behaviors and characteristics of spirits, in no particular order:

• Spirits are not primarily material, though many traditions describe them as able to manifest bodies of air and smoke, or even of more dense elements.

• Spirits act both psychospiritually and on occasion materially. Like much of magic, spirits seem to operate by affecting How Things Go – which crossroads are taken, which way the coin falls, etc. It is rare to the degree of ‘miracle’ for spirits to act directly on matter, but it is not unknown.

• Spirits resonate with and respond to the material world. When described as ‘animism’ we think of spirits as being ‘in’ or ‘of’ specific material objects – the spirit in a tree or of a waterfall.

• Spirits act through living people, not only by direct possession or guidance, but by influence based on their nature. A merry spirit makes mortals near it inclined to merriment.

• Spirits are widely various in their influence on mortals, some being potentially or overtly dangerous or destructive and others providing blessings worthy of the divine.

Non-Locality of the Spirits

Spirits who become the ‘Gods’ of humankind seem to be those who are particularly powerful or able. In essence they are those who respond to human worship, and give good blessings. While some spirits seem rather localized – attached directly to a specific material basis - the spirits who are called ‘gods’ by the poets often have presence in a wider range of culture and geography; they transcend the local. Sometimes this has a natural material basis – the Sun is visible in all places, even if its effects vary. Sometimes it has a widespread cultural basis – customs surrounding hearth-fire can be relevant to most human habitation.

As a Pagan I take nature and its dance to be a map of the real nature of spiritual reality. As above, so below, the old wisdom says – nature is the materialization of spirit, and we can learn much about one from the actions of the other. When we apply this principle to the nature and presence of the gods we arrive at what I see as the center of polytheism.

Just as with any real thing in our natural world, the divine exists in and as multiple (infinite… uncountable…) entities. The gods as they appear in ‘mythology’ – in the bodies of tales preserved and retold by poets – bear only a generic resemblance to those gods as they are present in local temples and regions. If one considers “Diana” of the Anatolian city of Ephesus, in comparison to the Artemis/Diana of Greco-Roman story my principle is clearly indicated. This phenomenon happens across the polytheist world. In both India and in W African religions it is often formally acknowledged. The Goddess or honored spirit ‘of’ a local village may have the same name and stories as that of three villages away, yet have local presence, history and nature that clearly distinguishes her from another presence in another temple. This doesn’t prevent scholars and theologians inside the tradition from identifying them all as one entity, or villages from competing over whose Goddess is the coolest.

To me this entirely blurs the argument between so-called ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ polytheisms, in which ‘hard’ insists that every iteration of a deity is a distinct entity and not an ‘aspect’ of some other, while the ‘soft’ holds that deities are trans-individual, existing in many aspects. It is clear to me that traditional polytheisms today, and almost certainly those of European ancestors, are and were both. I sometimes propose an axiom that gods and other mighty spirits simply have the power to exist as multiple persons.

The Daemons

To find a specific solution in the myth and metaphysics of Pagan peoples I turn to the Hellenic notion of ‘daemons’. The word ‘daemon’ (from roots meaning ‘separate being’) is a general Greek term for ‘a spirit’. Homer applies it to the Gods while popular Hellenic Paganism could apply it all the way down to one’s garden-sprites as well. In Classical Greek Pagan theology the Daemons were similar to what we think of as ‘angels’ – agents and messengers of the gods. They were understood to attend the sacrifices on behalf of the gods, to carry the blessings of the gods in turn to mortal worshippers, and in essence to function *as* the god at the local level. In this way Zeus “of” a particular regional temple could be both a separate self-acting agency, and a ‘person of’ the storied deity.

I have described Sam Webster’s Fire metaphor before, but it is so very apt here. If I take a spark from a fire, and go a mile away, and use it to light another fire, it will be, in many ways, almost exactly the same as the original – same chemical processes, consuming the same kinds of fuel, etc. It is Fire, in the directly descriptive sense. Yet each such fire is distinctly individual – it is in a new place, it illuminates new things, it develops a unique history and narrative. So, we might think, it is with the Gods. A new image is made, a new ritual fire is lit, and customs are established influenced by the landscape and climate of the new temple.

We may say that in such work a different daemon of the deity is attracted to one temple than to another. In essence these spirit ambassadors or presences act and exist as the deity, as it may appear in the setting mortals have made for it. Mythic tales tell of deities making their own places of worship, reshaping the material world but, again, this level of the miraculous is not the rule. More commonly humans make a particular pattern, lay a sacred feast with a particular flavor, and it attracts the deity in and as a properly resonant daemon.

In this way it is not mistaken to think of the beings that act in each temple as separate and individual beings, who may have their own inclinations and desires. Likewise if you spoke with any one of them they would identify themselves as That God From the Stories, even as local versions of the myths diverge. This polyvalent perspective renders empty many disputes about which kind of worship, which narrative, which theology, is the “real” version from Ancient Days. The real pattern of ancient Paganisms was probably a patchwork of localisms linked by larger cultural forms.

This model has applications at both the most immediate levels, and at the transcendent. For those of us working to establish a home cultus it offers the freedom to establish the work as we will, and accept the results we get. When we establish a home shrine, develop out customs and implement them ‘religiously’ we summon a daemon of the god who is fit for the work we are fit for. If one wishes simply to establish harmony, get a good blessing, and live in peace then the simple sacrificial relationship with your own local daemon of your god may be all you need. For those of more mystical bent, the divine work of formal ritual makes a pathway of linkages – from the image of the God in your mind, through the material form of an idol and invocation, to the daemon of the God who serves at your fire to, perhaps, the cosmic principle of the God themself.

This model can lead us toward certain other speculations. Modern Pagans often ask ourselves about how such culturally similar forms as, say, Diana and Artemis, or Manannan and Manawyddan may be spiritually related. For those drawn to lumping, this daemon theory can easily be expanded from the local to the regional. I, myself, find it just too unlikely that thunder-gods from neighboring cultures with linguistically-neighboring names such as Taranis, Thunor and Thor must be utterly distinct entities. If there is some shorter list of great powers behind the many cousins of the European pantheons, the transpersonal and transcultural spiritual powers behind so many local daemons. Even so they need be no more relevant than a poet’s tales of the Earth-Mother are to bringing in a good harvest, as we approach those Powers almost exclusively through their local expressions. There is nothing in Pagan ways to insist that the ‘highest’ must be a special object of worship; practical work often is better done through more earthly spirits. Once again, we need not try to decide which is “true” – that all gods are separate individuals, or that some gods are ‘aspects’ or ‘persons’ of one another. We can comfortably and reasonably go for “both”.

Gods and Spirits, Magic and Prayer

“Prayer is a form of magic.” “Magic is applied prayer.” One hears these saws often enough in current discourse about Pagan religion and practical magic. Neither assertion has ever rung the bell for me. I feel as if there is a significant difference between what is done when we pray, and what is done when we work a spell for a practical goal.

Refusing to resort to dictionaries, I assert: “Prayer is a verbal or internal address to a/the deity. Often it includes a request for specific aid, though it may be or include some other conversation. While traditional prayer was often scripted, traditional and uniform, prayer is also often performed ex tempore.” Beyond that description, prayer has the connotation of a request to a ‘higher power’, and the inevitable implication that the request might be refused. “All prayers are answered,” we hear from monotheist apologists, “but sometimes the answer is no.” 

Magic arts, on a different hand, intend to cause effects and not merely to ask for them to be caused. Magic is a body of technique that uses spiritual skills to work the individual will of the magician. This is accomplished, in tradition, by a combination of work with the living spirits, and with impersonal spiritual forces. Allies are gathered, patterns woven, and pressure-points targeted in the clever ways that are also used in engineering or even artistic composition. One expects that once one has built skill that doing the work correctly will produce the desired result, without being dependent directly on the will of any higher power. “Magic always works – if you do it right,” is the basic aphorism here.

To do a little context, magical manuals are full of prayers and instructions to pray, and how to pray. The preparation for high-end ritual magic commonly involves periods of fasting and prayer 

Philosophers have found reason to object to traditional magic because it implies an effort to coerce the gods. This is a reasonable objection – that mortal-level efforts cannot have the juice to coerce a large transpersonal power, any more than we can move a hurricane with fans. Yet traditional magical rites, and the spoken ‘prayers’ they preserve, are full of both invitations and direct commands to deities and to a variety of other spirits. Here we find the point I intend to make in this piece:

Traditional Magic does not depend on asking the gods to accomplish our goals.

I think this is the core reason I find magic and prayer to be separate.

If magic is not based on petitioning and requesting, what is its basis? As I said, it is a combination of relationship between the magician and the spirits, and the magician’s ability to employ impersonal spiritual forces. What can be missed by modern students, especially those who are inclined to apply generalized ‘religious’ principles to Paganism, is that the Gods are not the only focus of Pagan religion and sometimes not even the primary focus. I have a point to make about practical work with the gods, but first let me think about the big kindreds of non-deity spirits that play a part in magical work.

Magic of the Dead

Traditional sorcery is heavily, perhaps predominantly, powered by the Dead. The ‘hordes of spirits’ often summoned to carry out the conjuror’s will are composed of the restless dead – those spirits inadequately settled by rites or fate, whose hunger, lust and anger can be exploited by magic. In our modern lives we are lucky to be far freer from violence than our pre-Christian ancestors could have imagined. Likewise the culture of magical hexing and spellcraft for personal gain at another’s expense is greatly reduced. Many of us work to calm and cool the restless Dead, not to exploit them. 

Ancestor worship is a different matter, concerned with family, affection and reverence. One no more commands ones ancestors than one’s grandparents. Rather we maintain our relationship with the Beloved Dead and they become primary protections and instructors. Spirits from our family lineages may become familiar allies or important contacts, but often they remain background counselors and support.

Folk-magic customs may seek aid from a specific spirit. Customs surrounding graveyard dirt and such tokens may call on a specific spirit in a specific grave. In some places such graves have become shrines of a sort, regularly visited by those seeking aid. Magic has always had it’s ‘saints’, and even post-Christian magic seems likely to continue the tradition. 

That kind of individualizing and personifying can happen with the non-human spirits of nature as well.

Magic of the Land-Spirits

A variety of magical traditions draw on spirits present as plants and animals. To gather herbs for practical magic is to make a pact with the spirit of the herbs. Plants of special power and lore may be more individualized allies – the mandrake is an example of this kind of plant familiar.

More mobile spirits abide in wind and weather, and can be called to aid the magician, along with the shining beings of sun and moonlight. These spirits, along with the spirits of the green world and even the sea often appear in the forms of animals.

My own intuition is that such animal-formed Landwights were frequently the ‘familiar spirits’ of medieval folk-witches.

Lore is full of tales in which spirits appear as ‘chimaeras’. In Greek story the Chimaera was a Titan-spirit composed of lion, goat and serpent. Thus the ancients depicted mighty spirits in this composite way. The Satyrs and Centaurs of the Greeks, the Griffins of the east, even the Water-Horse or Nuckelavee of Celtic lore use animal forms to display the power of the Nature-Spirits.

Lacking a literate remnant of Northern Pre-Christian magic, we can find many examples of chimaera spirits in the grimoire tradition. The spirits called ‘demons’ in the medieval theological atmosphere of the grimoires can easily be understood as Landwights or ‘elementals’, appearing in animal-mixture forms proper to their natures. The medieval Christian cosmology relegated all such beings to demonic status, even the gentle ‘demons’ that teach poetry and herbcraft.

Daemons of the Gods.

It seems reasonable that even the most able mortal should not be able to ‘command’ great transpersonal spiritual forces. Ancient skeptics and modern have wondered why the planetary powers of wind or water should respond to our calls. I think a reasonable answer lies in the ancient understanding of the Daemons. 

In Hellenic Paganism the relations between mortals and the gods are managed through the uncountable number of spirit servants attendant on every deity. These spirits were called ‘daemons’ (or ‘daimons, same pronunciation…) a word derived from roots meaning ‘able to act’. The daemons attended the sacrifices as regents of the deities, receiving the offerings and ‘carrying’ them to the gods, then bearing in turn the gods’ blessings back to mortal rituals. In doing this they acted (as their name implies) as the active powers of the god, and would have appeared and acted as the deity, often bearing the symbols and tools of the god. So if a traveler were visited by an apparition of a fine naked young fellow with wings on his hat, he would likely assume it to be both a daemon of Hermes, and a visitation from the god, unconcerned about the distinction of person that might be involved. 

It is such daemons of the gods that magicians seek to employ in practical magic.(more here) The magic of the Greco-Egyptian Papyri often explicitly invokes gods, asks them to send a daemon (or some daemons) and then commands those agents of the god by the borrowed power of the god. In this way one is not, in fact, claiming to command the mighty power that rules the (whatever) of the cosmos, but only their agent, specially selected for and by your magic to be in tune with you and your desire.

So, I feel as if I might define ‘prayer’ as an attempt to invoke and speak directly to the cosmic principle or higher being of a deity, and to entreat it through supplication (i.e. by asking for something). Magic, in turn, is an effort to bring an active agent of the divine near to the mortal world, and arrange to have them aid your goals. In practice this can be the daemon of a God, or a Landspirit, or one or more of the Mighty Dead. Note that in basic magical theory it is spirits who are closer to the mortal world, to the world of forms, who have power to act in our realm – far more so than the Great Abstractions that might lie at the top of an imagined Platonic ladder.

Prayer can be used as a technique of magic. Often it is a preparatory technique intended to attune the magician to those Great Abstractions and thus make us more suited to speak with the related spirits. As a practical spiritual tech for getting results I can see it being useful perhaps with deities with whom one has developed a long sacrificial relationship. However I can’t see prayer as the equivalent of practical magic, or imagine that it could have magic’s (still imperfect) reliability or effectiveness.

Pagan Rites of Sacrifice

Ancient Hellenic bull-sacrifice

One cannot do any study of the actual ways of ancient European religion, i.e. Paganism in its original forms, without encountering the fact of animal sacrifice, and the rumor of the taking of human lives in ritual. It is undoubtedly true that human sacrifice occurred in most ancient European cultures at one stage or another. However it was never the central element of Pagan religious ritual.

               Let me begin with the word ‘sacrifice’. From the Latin, it means ‘Sacred Work’; and ‘sacred’ means ‘set apart for the work of the spirits’.  While it has come to have connotations of ‘giving up’ and even of loss, to reclaim its sacred power is to affirm sacrifice as a joyous work of connection with the divine. During the work of sacrifice, many offerings may be made, of many kinds. In common language these offerings are often referred to as ‘sacrifices'. This is, in a way, a mis-speaking. To say “the sacrifice” is not to refer to whatever object is the central offering of the ritual, but rather the whole ritual of offering and blessing is, itself, ‘the sacrifice’ – the sacred work. So I find myself enjoying referring to our public Pagan rites as ‘the sacrifices’… feels nice and archaic.

               Secondly, in preface, I mention that the Neopagan Druid system I work in has specifically disallowed live-animal offerings in our rites. We do make many offerings – ale and meal and bread and fruit and even meat, but we admit that we haven’t either the call or the skill to take the life of an animal and butcher it for cooking in ritual.

Classical Indian Fire-Sacrifice

• Animal Sacrifice-offerings 

The basic form of larger, community worship from Ireland to India was a feast, shared with the spirits and graced with poetry and song. The best way to serve meat is fresh, and the terrible truth of the human ability to bring death to other beings required ritualization. So animals were ritually honored then killed, and their meat cooked. In Hellenic rites (of which we have written records) the bones and fat were wrapped in the skin and that was burned on the altar for the spirits. The cuts of meat were cooked and shared with the attendees. In ancient Indian fire-sacrifice it was said that the rite was not properly concluded 'until the poor had been fed'.

Smaller or personal religious rites often made offering through ‘libation’ – the simple pouring of wine, grain or other offerings on the altar of a spirit, or by ‘dedications’ – the giving of gifts of images, inscriptions, altars, buildings, even gold and cash to a deity. This form of offering was, in fact, gaining in popularity in the classical period, and even internal and native philosophies in the ancient world found reason to argue against the ancient customs of animal sacrifice. Modern rites that replace animal-meat feasting with such offerings are only expressing a Pagan-era trend.

• Human Sacrifice-offerings:

Ritual killing of political and criminal prisoners is described among the Celts. Scandinavians are said to have offered human lives before their greatest idols. Greek and Roman myths speak of youths being ‘offered’ to this titan or that monster, and the Romans specifically outlawed human-life offerings (which means that there was something to outlaw) in the years around 100bce. Human sacrifice seems to have had two major kinds, though we have no literate remains of ritual for those that I know of. (Some rites may exist buried in Indian Tantric material). First was the killing of prisoners of war and criminals. This seems to have been done en masse when needed, and to have been somewhat casual and pragmatic. We read, also, that when armies faced one another, the opposing army would all have been dedicated to the gods, so that every life taken in battle was an offering.

Modern Druid Fire-Sacrifice

Personal human sacrifice (the 'virgin youth' sort) had to be voluntary. The lore suggests that an offering such as that would have been intended to 'remake the world' - to restore the essential elements of existence. Bone is given to make stone, flesh to make soil, breath to make the wind, etc. This is, I think, where the occasional claim comes from that the Druids said they had created the world.

To live in the Old Ways was, I think, to seek to live in harmony with the world as it really is. To do so, especially for those living and eating straight from the farm, would seem to require the sanctifying of the fact of death, and the ritualizing of the deed of killing. What is murder? Murder is killing done outside the laws, and without the blessing of sacrifice. So, killing for food, killing for law or religion, even killing for war - the ancients seem to have considered the power to kill to be so sacred that it had to be acknowledged and ritualized. As an exercise we might make an ethical comparison between such an attitude (and recalling that life was cheaper, in fact, in ancient days) and our own culture of sanitized, mechanized, and commoditized killing.

• The Takeaway: ‘Sacrifice” is the sacred work of offering to a god or spirit (the gods or spirits), often as offerings of food and gifts as if for a noble guest. Animal-life offering, while common in the ancient world, is not mandatory in modern work. Human sacrifice was already passing away in Pagan times, and need never be contemplated in ours.

No One Way

                         

I’ll make a deal with you, dear reader; I’ll only directly mention present political events when they have a direct bearing on the themes of el bloggo – Druid Magic and Pagan Occultism. Folks can see more of my political thoughts on Facebook, should they have that taste.

The single scariest thing I've heard our new president say (yet) is the assertion that American patriotic unity should derive from the belief in a Creator God, and that religion could unify the nation. In his inaugural address he painted a picture of unity based on “The same Creator God” across the continent. The president, never before a man of any noticeable spiritual inclination, seems willing to allow his office to become the platform for the theocratic visions of the worst elements of modern Christianity – Dominionists and Christian Reconstructionists. 

I object to this on both political and philosophical levels. Politically, giving churches and the modern interpreters of ancient scriptures political and social power has been a reliable formula for oppression. In the US we seek a society based on liberty, and limiting liberty according to the imagined ‘laws’ of one sect or another is not the path to growth and prosperity. Rather, I think that the goals of American liberty are served when every neighbor is free to worship the gods or God or whatever as they see fit. When we make unity around the common welfare, not around a common mythology; I value feeding my neighbor far more highly than I value worshipping with my neighbor. I would make it the government’s business (not the church’s, incidentally) to see that all our people are fed, and not it’s business to see that all our people worship together, or worship the same thing, or being, or whatever.

Philosophically I am highly suspicious that monotheism itself is a toxic idea. To take this to first principles, I think that because I think that monotheism is simply false. There is no one creator being, no being that rules the spiritual cosmos and decides the fate of souls. The gods and spirits live in the same Great Dance as we do, and existence proceeds from all of our actions. That is to say, I am a polytheist and animist on a mythic level – divinity is best expressed as multiple persons.

So, in order to make monotheism even vaguely rational one must compose a vast web of new rules, imposed boundaries and leaps of faith. Here, read this little jest, about the blind men and the beasts. As various locations and peoples try to express this One God, they inevitably create their own local version of it (that’s how religion actually works). Since monotheism usually comes with a strong “us-v-them” component, the differences between my One God and yours must be reconciled, often based on which faction holds political authority at the time.

Warfare based on religion was not unheard-of among polytheist peoples, but almost so. Polytheists expected their neighbors to have different but recognizable religions, and often left one another’s ways alone, even in victory. Gods of other peoples were not ‘false’, and nobody wanted a strange god’s ill-will. But the monotheists redefined all the spirits of the polytheistic world as ‘devils’, and almost immediately took up crusade against them. When competing monotheist ideas arose, those were treated as equally ‘Satanic’.

Perhaps I ramble. My assertion is that any attempt to unite a diverse group of people under one religion must amount to dire oppression. There is no Great Truth that will just make all the Jews and Bahais and Voodooists and witches and Baptists and Johannites and all to just say “Oh… yeah, that seems right”. The inevitable historic path to monotheistic unity has been the burning of temples and books.

So, if the government, or the society, comes to me and demands that I take up the new state cult… we’ll see. I’m a polytheist – as long as I can keep my gods, I always have room for another, I suppose. That hasn’t been how such things have usually gone.

Book Review: The Practical Art of Divine Magic - Patrick Dunn

The Practical Art of Divine Magic: 

Contemporary & Ancient Techniques of Theurgy – 2015 by Patrick Dunn

Let me begin by saying that I have enjoyed all of Patrick Dunn’s previous works on magic (he consistently drops the modern ’k’ from the spelling). In “Magic, Power, Language, Symbol” he brings a linguistic and semiotic approach to magic, and in “Postmodern Magic” he introduces the ‘information model’ of magic, to stand next to the ‘energy’ and ‘spirit’ models. All of this is informed by a thorough understanding of modern and traditional magic, clearly supported by personal practice.

In this book Dunn turns his sharp mind to one of the most well-documented systems of ancient magic – divine theurgy. ‘Theurgy’ roughly means ‘divine work’, and it grew from the late-Pagan need to take the worship of the gods out of the temples and into private chapels, living-rooms and gardens. This makes it well-suited for those same spaces in our Pagan revival. Dunn breaks a complex, multi-century tradition into usable bites and explains each sufficiently for a beginner audience.

In this he begins with Neoplatonism, giving a good simple summary of both Plato himself (and his cave of shadows) and the Neoplatonist mages such as Iamblicus. His understanding is based on Neoplatonic hierarchy – not of archangels and angels, but of Numen-logos, and the layers of manifestation and symbolism that lead spirit into manifestation in matter. His explanation of how all this produces the classic ritual forms of things done, things said and things thought is both simple and elegant.

By going back to the roots, Dunn is able to explain several classic ‘occult’ ideas in their directly theistic Pagan origins. The discussion of the nature of the gods, and of their manifestations and extensions into manifestation, and of sub-deific spirits, runs as a thread through several chapters. He attempts to discuss the gods both as cosmic principles and as their multiple manifestations in symbol and form, both in mental  realms as stories, songs, etc and into the ritual realm in idols and images, and into the natural realms as the ‘correspondences’ of herbs, stones, colors, sounds, etc. The explanations of ‘correspondence’ take a fresh and inspiring direction that reminds me of things I have heard from non-European polytheisms.

The book is complete with a set of exercises that lead from basic trance to full simple rites of offering and blessing. Tools, framing ritual forms, purification are explained and lightly-scripted. The work of the invocation of deity is dealt with in detail, from an intellectual familiarity with a god through formal ritual invitation and reception of power, to the consecration of talismanic idols for longer-term personal cult. Methods of divination are discussed; the method he most thoroughly teaches is the seeking of omens in the natural (and/or urban) world. In a culture of cards and dice it is good to see the basics of intuition emphasized.

His chapter on Daimonology – the lore of the sub-deity spirits that serve both the gods and magicians – concludes with a full rite for meeting one’s ‘personal daimon’ or ‘supernatural assistant’. His spends some time parsing the nature of such a being, without prescribing any conclusion. The rite is based on a famous falcon-rite from the Graeco-Egyptian papyri, well-adapted for a modern altar-top. It is the most fully-developed rite of ‘ritual magic’ (as vaguely distinct from Pagan religious rites) in the book, the culmination of the several small rites and forms that have been previously taught.

The chapter on thaumaturgy (spell work) focuses on written invocations and inscribed tablets, but also provides a good basic rite for consecrating a talisman for any purpose, under the proper deity. Dunn explains that the book isn’t focused on practical magic, but the material here compliments the system taught very nicely.

I heartily recommend this book for Pagans and polytheists interested in adding depth and occult power to rites of worship. It is probably the best general book on Pagan occultism for those working modern polytheism that I have yet encountered. By ‘occultism’ I mean, here, the use of the hidden angles of influence, of invisible connections between material objects and spiritual principles to turn ritual from a heartfelt performance to a machine of blessing. I recommend The Practical Art of Divine Magic to ritual leaders and working clergy, and to those working alone who desire to become the priest/ess of their own temple.

Concerning the Dead

Proof of life - a section from the chapter on the spirits for the new book.

Across the ancient world the veneration of the spirits of the human dead was practiced in a variety of forms. Long before letters were invented the megalithic peoples built great mounds and tombs and kept complex rites of bone and sun and land. The historical peoples we know inherited a land already haunted with unmemoried monuments, with clans of spirits whose names were forgotten. Upon that soil and stone new lives and deaths came and went. Newer mounds and tombs were added to old, and the Dead were never absent from either popular religion or the practice of magic.

In many Pagan farm cultures the family dead were buried under the very earthen floor of the family home. The intimacy of the living with the immediate generations of the Family Dead was part of daily life. Only in places where the press of human population demanded it, such as the growing City of Rome, were the dead transported to ‘cemeteries’. As the Christian churches gained power in the late Roman Empire a deliberate effort was made to divide the living from the dead. Church doctrine taught that the dead were inaccessible to the living. Any manifestation of family spirits or the Heroes of the old religion were demons, impostures of their imagined “Enemy”. Except for certain sanctioned Christian heroes – the ‘Saints’ - there was no licit contact between mortals and the spirits of the dead.

Any effort to restore the ethos and practices of traditional Paganism must certainly include a restoration of the Cult of the Dead. It is an indispensable part of every version of ethnic Indo-European Paganism, and is often called the basis of all work with the spirits. In modern Paganism it is an element that was excluded in early forms, and is now returning.

For those who entered Pagan revival through Wiccan-style rites the absence of the Dead and the Ancestors from most usual work is notable. I think we can find two major influences behind that. Gardner’s Wicca developed in the mid-twentieth century, and the influence of both spiritualism and of Theosophy was still strong. Mediumship – especially physical mediumship – had been frequently involved in fraud both paranormal and financial, and was greatly reduced in influence from previous decades. Dissociating witchcraft from mediumship was part of the effort to legitimize witchcraft practices. From the other side of the same Theosophical influence they received a doctrine of universal reincarnation. Theosophy took the Hindu doctrine of reincarnation, edited it for westerners, and made it a standard part of ‘esoteric teaching’. This was picked up by the early waves of the Pagan revival. When I began meeting other Pagans and witches back in the 1970s a model of universal reincarnation from human life to human life was an assumption of the movement.

A Roman Lararium, house-altar
for the Dead.

The study of real sources about ancient Euro-Paganism has convinced many that no such doctrine was a part of traditional Paganism. Plainly there were teachings about the continuance of individual awareness as a ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ although many ethnic systems contain the idea of multiple soul layers or components. The core of traditional Pagan afterlife beliefs seems to involve the journey of the spirit into the Land of the Dead (usually the Underworld, in some sense). This involves various landscapes, incidents and mysteries, which various sects and teachers used as the basis for rites of initiation and seership. However reincarnation or rebirth is clearly a part of some ancient teachings. In some cases it occurs within family lines, in others a great hero is reborn among his folk. Even in such cultures the cult of the Dead is present, offering a bit of paradox about the fate of the individual soul.

The fate of common personal souls was thought to reside in the Land of the Dead, in which they were subsumed in a general cult of ‘the Dead’ or of ‘the Ancestors’. It was hoped that one’s family and clan would preserve one’s name and memory, and in that way one’s spirit would receive personal offerings and remain close to the love of the folk. Those who were initiates of some ‘mystery’ might expect to be received in some deity’s house or garden, to experience a more personal existence than that of the unremembered mass.

On a family level this was much more personal. Many cultures place a shrine or altar for the house’s lineage in the house itself. Daily spiritual work would have been at least as involved with the Ancestors as with any of the Gods. In Northern lore we find some families who expect their Dead to dwell in a local mound or mountain. Nobles might choose to ‘set up court’ in their own burial mounds, receiving offerings and giving blessings from that seat. The notion that the Dead receive offerings at their graves, whether those are in family homes or in separate spaces, seems to be nearly universal.

We will examine the development of a personal Cult of the Dead for sorcery in coming chapters. Let us examine a few of the broad categories under which the spirits of the Dead were worshipped and conjured in traditional Paganism.

The Ancestral Dead

This category is personal and specific. It refers to those in the line of your family history who are honored as beloved Dead by the living. Some cultures are very concerned with reverence to the recent Dead, with the keeping of family tombs or of house-shrines to the recently passed. Honor to one’s immediate parental and grandparental generations is central to this category.

For many modern Pagans this presents a difficult hurdle in our restoration of traditional practice.  There are two primary difficulties that modern people encounter – first, many families do not share the religious or occult inclinations of modern practitioners. Second, many families have been damaged by a cycle of abuse, or by addiction or other dysfunction that weakens the bond between generations.

The problem of ‘worshipping’ a recently-dead family member with whom one may have had a less than affectionate relationship is addressed by tradition in a strict manner. It simply does not matter what relationship one had with the formerly-living. They are now among the Dead, and must be honored as we honor the Dead. If a parent does badly by their children so that the children refuse to give that proper honor then the whole luck of the family might fail – this encourages the elder generation toward kindness. The Ancestor-worshipping traditions often have specific rites and methods for reconciling ‘difficult’ ancestors with the living. Those can be found in several of our recommended books.

As to the question of recent or Ancestral Dead who were not polytheists, or were in fact devout or nominal Christians, we can answer in several ways. First we might assume that they will have gone their way, and be unlikely to remain to answer the call of a Pagan’s altar. However we know, in most cases, that the Dead loved us while they lived, and so love us now. We can make the proper offerings in any case, in love, and hope that their own gods will allow them the happiness of being remembered. In some cases the recent Dead are entirely happy to remain near their family for a time. It can be a kindness to include some element of the spirit’s religion in their commemoration, but the simple offerings and honoring we give can only be a comfort. We might even assume that the reality of spiritual life becomes clear to us all at death, regardless of our ‘beliefs’ during life. The modern conceit that we shape reality with our beliefs certainly has no basis in tradition.

In any case the degree of intimacy with which the Cult of the Dead is approached will vary widely among practitioners. The basics of the work are done in the home, integrated into the common life. While reverence to family Dead is often seen as a first step, as a gate-keeper between the mortal shrine and the wider world of spirits, this can be approached in a formal and respectful way whatever the personal emotional position of the student may be. There are also many who say that it is the Oldest Dead who bring more power to the work, rather than the more recent.

The Heroes

Notable mortals sometimes become notable spirits. Throughout the Pagan world those whose lives are worthy of memory, those who have done some great or terrible deed for their folk, those of special power, charisma and skill are held in special memory and high esteem. Some of these become active sources of blessing and the object of cult. Often such worship is associated with the tomb or historical locales of the Hero’s story, but sometimes such spirits are subsumed into the pantheon of gods, and generate temples and images widely.

The Hellenes referred to the mightiest of such heroes as the children of the gods themselves, and thus Demigods – “half-gods”. This idea – of mortal offspring of the gods – occurs in various ways and with varying degrees of literalism or importance. Whether or not the local system allows the idea of literal divine parentage the Heroes are those who seem to shine with divine power, and who use that power for the good of their folk. This may occur after death, in the mind’s eye of story, or during a charismatic and effective life.

For modern Pagans in our decentralized and eclectic culture we might each have our own heroes. Of course we share various historical and cultural commonalities. Figures of national or ideological history, from Jefferson and Franklin to Crowley and Gardner, might become a part of a home shrine-cult. For those seeking the work of magic and priestcraft a specific subset of the Heroes may be valuable:

The Elder Wise

It has always been a part of magical wisdom for the living to be taught by the Dead. That which is remembered, lives, as they say, and the memory of the skills, ways, and lore of a people is a matter of great importance to the Dead. Many of those who have undertaken the work of restoring the Old Ways have sought to hear the voices of these beings.

In Our Druidry we often refer to such spirits as the Elder Wise. Spirits, as we say, of those who were once magicians, once priestesses, oracles, spellbinders, conjurors, we call to them and ask them to bring us their teaching. Our experience suggests that this approach is fitting for anyone who dedicates themselves to magical arts or Pagan spirituality. These spirits have shown themselves to be responsive and actively ready to support our modern efforts.

The Unhappy Dead

Life can be hard, and fate is not always kind. To the ancients the rites and memory of mortals were central to the maintenance of a happy afterlife for the recent Dead. Those who passed without proper rites, without a tomb, without kin to mourn them, without formal remembrance were unable to make the usual transition into the Land of the Dead. They became ‘ghosts’ specters that haunted the living world.

This fate was not limited to the lower classes. Those who died unknown while traveling, in shipwrecks, in great battles, by crime or murder – any who died with their life unfulfilled – might find themselves in this category. Together these spirits made up a crowd or mob or host of grey and unhappy beings, some of whom might hate or resent the living. It was not a judgment of moral character. In fact it was the default for all – to become a part of the Host. The rites and works of religion and religious magic were developed to provide a better portion, just as agriculture provided more plentiful food.

This Host of the Dead was a major source of power for practical spellcasting in ancient magic. While they are called on for almost every kind of work, in the Greco-Egyptian material they are called upon for the more “low-down” intentions – harm, coercive love-spells, winning at gambling by disabling the opponent. They might also generate serving spirits. In modern spirit systems it is sometimes taught that such spirits can benefit by working with mortal sorcerers. Their work helps them remember themselves, their names become known to the living, and they can often grow in wisdom and power, along with the magician.

The Ancestors and the Dead are the gateway to working with the spirits. Whatever one’s spiritual perspective the value of work with the Mothers and Fathers, with the Mighty and Wise Dead, and even with the Host of the Hungry cannot be overstated. In many ways it is the single most vital missing element in restoring a polytheist perspective to modern magical practice.