Saturday, December 7, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Magic and Religion. (part 3,523)
There’s a discussion flowing around the Pagan blogosphere about the place of Magical art in Pagan
religion. This is a topic near and dear to my heart. I think it is central to
the future of spiritual practice in the west. If we want to progress past the
boundaries of Europe’s traditional monotheisms, then we must have a place for
magic as a sacred part of spirituality.
Annoyingly, I suppose that I must define my terms. By magic I mean the
conscious application of spiritual principles for personally-willed goals. By
spirituality I mean the work of conforming the self with (spiritual) reality in
such a way as to produce peace, freedom and happiness for the individual.
Plainly these two terms might work either in harmony or at odds. I find the goal
of wisdom to be to bring them into harmony. By religion I mean a system of
belief and practice, often drawn from traditional magic, that intends to
produce spirituality in those who work it.
A great deal is made in modern time of religions as tools of
social control of the individual. Certainly that has been one of the social uses for religion, especially in eras
when religion and state were united. However in my experience that use is
becoming obsolete in the modern world. Social concensus and state enforcement
seem no longer to require the sanction of the divine in order to be accepted by
common people.
For westerners that leaves ‘a religion’ as ‘a systematic
approach to spiritual practice’. This needn’t leave out a moral element – many
religions begin mystical teaching with moral instruction. It does tend to focus
religion on the practical – on methods that produce the experiences of
spirituality, rather than on moral or social conformation. That’s what I mean,
generally, by ‘a religion’ – ‘a system intended to produce a specific set of
spiritual experiences’.
My inclination is to view ‘magic’ as the core principle in
all the above terms. In religions the methods used to work with the divine –
meditation, devotion, right action – are all directed by individual will. Any
willed reach toward the divine is a magical act. The ancient Christians
perceived this and were so concerned to remove human will from the equation
that they imagined the divine will deciding which individuals would be able to
conceive the will toward the divine. I think we can happily discard such
convolution and admit our freedom to choose.
So then, to me, a religion is a specific expression of the
methods of magic. A religion (I try not to speak about ‘religion’ as a general
category any more than I must) is a set of mental positions, acts and goals
that intends to connect the individual self with a reality that transcends the
self. The Roman church adapted theurgic invocation and talismanic art in
creating itself. Buddhism adapted tantra and various local sorceries. Even in
Islam Sufi ways preserved older mystical methods. In my opinion it is this core
of magical practice that brings the spark of real contact with the spirits, and
real contact with spirit(s) is the core of working religion.
That’s why I see magic as the core business of this complex – it is willed
application of spiritual principles. It is by will that we establish our
relations with the gods and spirits, by will that we keep our local cult, by
will that we explore the realms of spirits. From these efforts we compose the
personal religion of our hearth and home-temple, and support our local village
religion.
On a traditional level, we find ourselves bumping up against
definitions of magic that imply impiety
and disapproval. It is easy to understand magic as spell-casting and divination,
both of which might be understood as efforts to raise personal will above that
of the gods, and thus impiety. (Let’s leave aside for the moment whether that
raising is in fact impious – I disagree with those who say that it is.)
Magic is much more than spellbinding. The longer I study the
clearer it becomes to me that the old cliché – “Magic is the yoga of the west”
is precisely so. In fact it is just as accurate to say that yoga is the sorcery
of the east. Yoga concerns itself both with spiritual growth and gain of
wisdom, and also with occult powers and abilities. Yes, I know that many
teachers discount the latter, yet it is never absent from traditional yogas.
Unlike the category of ‘magic’ in the west, yoga has remained part of orthodox
and mainstream Hinduism. There are as many sects and kinds of yoga as of magic,
certainly, but the central ideas of yogic (and tantric) esotericism are largely normative in
Hindu thought.
So magic, in our Pagan models, is the technical and formal
application of the principles of spiritual reality. This can be used for common
good – love, wealth, family, etc. It can also be used to produce powerful
personal experiences. The style of work that we inherit as ‘high magic’ began
in efforts to retain personal temple rituals of Pagan times in secret. When we
make a shrine in our home, put up an image, make offerings to it with
invocation, etc, we are surely doing magic as well, I think, as religion. In the same way when we
prepare a careful bundle of symbols, imbued with the hidden powers of herbs and
stones, present them to the land-spirits and ‘charge’ them with our intent we are still
participating in the religious model of our Paganism, even as we work our
personal and individual will.
I suppose that is my hope for our Paganism – that occult and esoteric methods
will have a normative place in our religions. Divination, trance-vision, rites
intended to produce increase in bounty or happiness – these are traditionally
‘occult’ arts that make perfect sense inside Pagan religions. Of course these
are largely specialist skills. We can offer them to general students of our
ways, but only those with the inclination will devote the effort required to
grasp them. To have them present in our mix is like yeast in the mash, I think –
the power that enchants the common, and brings spirit into matter.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
My Books; A Self-Review for Buyers
Gifting at the solstice season is an old and honorable
custom, stretching back into Pagan time, along with drinking and feasting. For
those of us in the northern hemisphere, whatever our religious inclinations,
the solstice season is a time for enjoying friends and kin, and sharing the
bounty that the year has brought. Here at the always-annoying initial descent
of winter I am already looking forward to Yule morning, when the light begins
to grow again.
Regular readers will know that I write books and sell them.
I’ve done this a long time, though I have yet to have a main-stream
publication. (The truth is I’m only a little motivated. The advantages of
self-publishing continue to appeal to me. ) As a result I am sometimes asked
how to approach my material in an orderly way, or, “what to read first”. In an
effort to reduce the retyping of the answer to that question I’ll try to put
the important stuff in order here.
If you are looking to read my books, you are hoping to learn
about a practical approach to modern Celtic-style religion and magic. I freely
refer to what I do as Pagan, though my material is radically different from
much of modern Pagan practice. I begin with a reconstructionist’s concern for the
original and reliably authentic lore of the Celts, especially the Gaels. To
that I add a modern mage’s willingness to reframe, reinvent and experiment. In
general I am more concerned with occultism and sorcery than with religion,
mainly just as my personal inclination. However all my magical work is framed
inside the Pagan religious model in which I work. Blog readers will know my
opinion about the intimate connection between religion and magic.
Had I been interested in fame as an occultist, I’d have been
an eclectic. Instead I have hitched my wagon to the specific ritual format and
cosmology devised within ADF’s Druidry. Fortunately that format has come to be
more in tune with trends (and/or contributed to them) in modern magic over the
last decades. The modern interest in real work with spirits based on offering,
divination and blessing fits very nicely (imhhaa opinion) with the work that
I’ve devised. Readers used to working in a post-Wiccan or post-Masonic ritual
style will find plenty in the material that can be adapted for their own work.
Prologue:
1: ADF’s Dedicant Path: The 150 page book that comes with
one’s first year of ADF membership provides a simple introduction to the symbol
system and ritual forms used in the rest of my work. I wrote most of the material,
and edited the most recent edition. Even if one is uncertain about ADF as a
primary Pagan path the material in our training, and the community of support, is
valuable for those interested in non-Wiccan modern Pagan directions.
The Dedicant materials are available only with a one-year ADF membership. Note that all the following are available at my Lulu shop, except for SFHW, which is available at Amazon from ADF Publishing.
Top Tier:
2: Sacred Fire, Holy Well, A Druid’s Grimoire. This was the
first formal writing I did about
our Druidic system. The core material began as a pamphlet for our local Grove in 1991. By the end of the 90s it had grown into the 300 page item it is now. In truth, all the themes of my later work are present here. If there’s a fault in the book it is that the rites were written to be performed for and by medium to large groups. The seasonal rites are based on our local Grove rites, where we readily have a half-dozen voices available, and the magical rites are written for myself and a partner to work for a fairly large group. The rites have been criticized as unworkable by solitaries, and that may be true.
our Druidic system. The core material began as a pamphlet for our local Grove in 1991. By the end of the 90s it had grown into the 300 page item it is now. In truth, all the themes of my later work are present here. If there’s a fault in the book it is that the rites were written to be performed for and by medium to large groups. The seasonal rites are based on our local Grove rites, where we readily have a half-dozen voices available, and the magical rites are written for myself and a partner to work for a fairly large group. The rites have been criticized as unworkable by solitaries, and that may be true.
However I continue to get good reviews from readers who find the book useful
for developing a personal practice. It is a multi-category compendium with an
introduction, at least, to the whole shootin’ - match.

Having run a few students through the Nine Moons work I
realized that much of the material might be of interest to folks not involved
in Our Druidry. I decided that two of the primary teachings of the system ought
to be broken out an offered to more general readers, apart from a rigorous
general training. Those are the spirit-arte material, and the teachings on
trace and vision-work.
This book contains my final-to-date efforts to apply
principles of classic magical spirit work as found in the grimoires to a
polytheist, alliance-based model. The rites have been tested by several
magicians now to good effect, and I’m confident offering the material. I expect
the system to be especially useful for those working to gain primary familiar
allies among the Dead and the Landwights.

The focus of the book’s vision-work is the construction and
use of an Inner Nemeton – a visualized temple and workspace that serves as an
arrival and departure point for further vision. This is presented in some
detail, in a series of scripted trances. Also provided are exercises intended
to allow an approach to the personal Higher Genius, here conceived in a Pagan
way.
Let me say this plainly – I don’t recommend buying both the
Book of Nine Moons and the two “Books
of…”. There is some new material in each of the latter (more in the Book of
Summoning) but they mainly reframe material from the full system. The two later
books are more modular, easier to adapt to a personal a la carte practice. The
Book of Nine Moons is a complete system.
Second Tier
6: The Court of Brigid Grimoire. This is a complete ritual
suite for approaching the
goddess Brigid, meeting her primary ‘ministers’ or
‘angels’ or ‘daemons’ and working with the servant spirits of her ‘court’. It
is based entirely on the methods presented in the Book of Summoning (and to
some degree in Sacred Fire, Holy Well). It could be worked directly from the
text by a new student, but some study of the underlying system will certainly
reduce confusion.
Me Having Fun
11: The Fire and Well Spellbook. This was me having fun with
typesetting. It is all the ritual material from Sacred Fire, Holy Well arranged
in a pretty type-face. Buy the hardback if you want something romantic for your
wizard’s library.

13: Liber Spirituum. The grimoire tradition of magic
includes the idea of a Book of Spirits – a personal book in which one collects
the names, sigils and ‘signatures’ of the spirits with whom one has made pacts.
This is my typeset of one for myself. The decoration is Celtic, but it would
work for any spirit-arte collection.
The Dwale of Afagddu. My small effort at a Cthulhu Mythos
tome begins with a weird tale of ancient Wales, telling the secret story behind
Cerridwen’s brewing. It then provides a grimoires of mythos rites. It walks a
line between actually performable and why bother, but it includes a variety of
fake-evil sorcerous Cthulhu art by me.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
A Samhain Season Tale
Druid Facebook elder and funnyman Mike the Fool called for a round of short stories to be produced for the Samhain season. Drawing on (i.e. stealing) another literary game, he declared that each story should begin with "It was a dark and stormy night, as the Druid thought about the strange events of Samhain." I thought this was a nice idea, and decided to give my bardic skills a try.
The following is pretty much a live performance of an improvised story, save that I wrote it down instead of telling it aloud. It has had only the smallest edits of word-choice and grammar. As I understand Mike intends only to archive these tales on Facebook I'll just stash this here.
While the Feast of Samhain has passed, we remain in the dark season, until Yule morning turns the tide. The season of the Dead and the Sidhe is still upon us. Time to gather family and friends and enjoy your fire and ale. May you be blessed in it.
The following is pretty much a live performance of an improvised story, save that I wrote it down instead of telling it aloud. It has had only the smallest edits of word-choice and grammar. As I understand Mike intends only to archive these tales on Facebook I'll just stash this here.
While the Feast of Samhain has passed, we remain in the dark season, until Yule morning turns the tide. The season of the Dead and the Sidhe is still upon us. Time to gather family and friends and enjoy your fire and ale. May you be blessed in it.
The
Burning of Eoghan’s Rath
Ian
Corrigan 2013

Eoghan
the Chieftain was an arrogant man, elected by the barons because he had
defeated their old enemies up the river. He proclaimed his desire to extend the
clan’s holdings into the ancient forest, and he set his barons to cutting the
trees and clearing stumps. This was no ill thing, the Druid thought, that the
king should enlarge the tribe’s wealth. However, care was required.
As
custom taught, the Druid had gone ahead into the wood. He laid his hazel-rod
across his knuckles and reading its swoops and dips he determined what patches
and parts of the wood were dear to the clan’s Good Neighbors. A wise chief
would have heeded him, but Eoghan declared that it would be his clan who ruled
our fields, and called for full clearance.
The
cutting began as the full moon passed, and for two weeks the axes worked
steadily, regardless of the Druid’s warnings. Eoghan often went with his
ax-men, for with his goad they would cut all the faster. In time they came to a
deep, wet portion of the wood, where the bare trees stood above dark water. Two
weeks before the Samhain Moon, at the twilight of the day when the first
silver-shaving sliver of moon was visible above the fields, three wights walked
out of the woods.
It
was a marvel to see them for they were accompanied by a ringing, swirling cloud
of notes, as if harps swirled about their forms. Likewise they lit the woods,
coming out of its depths where night shadows already gathered. Even so it was
difficult to say whether they generated light, or only defined themselves by
the shadows that were thrown from them, making the trees into grasping sentries
as they walked.
Tall
and slender they were, and white like the moon, white like silver, white like
chalk. Long and thin their faces and piercing their eyes, like the eyes of
birds that spy a frog.
“Turn
aside” cried chalk; “Stay away” screeched silver; “Come no further” croaked
moon.
Eoghan
and his crew stood still as stones, fixed under their gaze, until the three
turned and vanished again. The men would cut no more that day, and Eoghan led
them back to their rath.

“Not hard, big man,” he answered, “We dwell in the territory of the Seat of Mider, the God of Magic and Wisdom, the King of the Aes Sidhe in these parts. Those three were his messengers called the Three Cranes of Denial. None who is not a welcome guest can ever pass them. We must cease our cutting, Chief, and be
pleased with what we have gained.”
But
Eoghan would not hear wise council. He declared that he would rule the vales,
not some once-mighty so-called king, and he filled his men with ale. Drunken
they swore to take up their axes against the Neighbors, though many regretted
their boldness in the morning.
So
those who dared returned to the cutting, and the Druid turned away from them.
He called upon his Druid rights, and declared that the Samhain Sacrifice would
be made before the very gates of their walls. His apprentices aiding him, he built
the low square mound on which the Fire was laid. Searching carefully, he
brought in good dry oak, and ash, and birch from the forests. He was pleased
that his rod still led him well, and the wights did not seem to impede his
work. He built a good square fire, and laid up wood to fuel it. Three cows he
brought, Nine goats , and nineteen squabs. It was the Chieftain’s job to host
the feast for the clan, and his wealth brought the singers and jugglers, his
slaves raised the tressels and benches and built a good roof over the Fire.
At
last the feast days came, and all came to the sacrifice ground for the feast.
As the sun was high overhead the Druids began, offering first the cows to the
Shining Gods, so that the cooks could prepare them for the folk. Ale-kegs were
broached and ale poured, for the gods, the spirits and the folk, and the rite
and revel continued until night was full upon the court.
As
the full moon rose over the wood, there came a great roaring, like the
unceasing thunder of bronze trumpets, and the rumble of hooves, with the
wailing of prey in the wolf’s jaws. The host of the Sidhe rode forth on Samhain
night, and charged toward the gathered folk. At its head rode the White King,
white as bone, white as corpse-flesh, white as snow. He led the roaring host
once around the rath, his left shoulder turned toward the walls, then rode to
the edge of the Fire’s light and stopped.
The
Druid greeted him, but there was no joy in their conversation. The White One
desired vengeance, a price for the insult given by Eoghan.
“I will burn your fort”, he roared, and brandished a white-flamed torch, “and cook the flesh of your folk for this my horde to share with the God in his Seat.”
“I will burn your fort”, he roared, and brandished a white-flamed torch, “and cook the flesh of your folk for this my horde to share with the God in his Seat.”
The
Druid gestured, and his apprentices began to slaughter the nine goats, as the
singers sang an ancient hymn to the God of Wisdom and his Cranes. The Druid
proclaimed that he gave flesh already, and that the price was paid, but the
White Rider would hear none of that.
“Here then is my offered price, Herald of the King,” the Druid said at last, “I will burn this feast, and these walls, and these beasts, in your honor. You will not have my folk, neither their men nor women nor bairns, but return to the King with our fealty, and our promise to abide outside his wood.”
“Here then is my offered price, Herald of the King,” the Druid said at last, “I will burn this feast, and these walls, and these beasts, in your honor. You will not have my folk, neither their men nor women nor bairns, but return to the King with our fealty, and our promise to abide outside his wood.”
All
this was acceptable, save for one other condition. So the barons of the clan
dragged forth impious Eoghan, and the wights of the horde took him up, and set
him aflame, and carried him flaming away from that ground. As the War-Leader
watched, the Druids set fire to the walls of their rath, and the benches and tressels
of the feast and even the roof of the fire-porch, and the night was lit by fire
even as the folk drank their fill of ale. The feast continued through the day,
as the folk rejoiced in their rescue and the barons discussed the succession.
Now the Druid stood, after the next sunset, and contemplated the work before his people. Foolishness, he knew, was seldom rewarded, and the Gods would have their due.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
What’s Worship?
I'm making some effort to catch up on posts as the year ends. Getting my writing-hinges all oiled up. Back to some practical stuff soon, too...
I’ll put my cards on the table. My goal is to demote the word ‘worship’ from
its specialized place of honor or disdain in modern times. I want to normalize
it, and strip it of its special status.
Let’s
start with the schoolboy stuff:
From
Wikipedia (because I know this one is accurate)
“Worship
is an act of religious
devotion usually directed towards a deity. The word is derived from the Old English
weorþscipe, meaning worship, honour shown to an object, which has been
etymologised as "worthiness or worth-ship"—to give, at its simplest,
worth to something.”
From the Free Dictionary:
wor·ship
n.
1.
a. The reverent love and devotion accorded a deity, an idol, or a sacred
object.
b.
The ceremonies, prayers, or other religious forms by which this love is
expressed.
2.
Ardent devotion; adoration.
3.
often Worship Chiefly British Used as a form of address for magistrates,
mayors, and certain other dignitaries: Your Worship.
[Middle English worshipe, worthiness, honor,
from Old English weorthscipe : weorth, worth; see worth1 + -scipe, -ship.]
From
Merriam Webster
1:
chiefly British: a person of importance —used as a title for various
officials (as magistrates and some mayors)
2:
reverence offered a divine being or supernatural
power; also : an act of expressing such reverence
3:
a form of religious practice with its creed and ritual
Remembering
that dictionaries are only commercial efforts to compile usages, I especially
note two things. First, in no case is worship said to involve personal
abasement, bowing, scraping, etc. Second, I note that worship is not reserved
for any specific category of being. It is extended to gods, ‘supernatural
beings” (never mind…), and honored humans.
Here
we must, once again, discard the weight of historical western religious
thinking. The central principle with which so many of us were raised is that
only “God” is worthy of worship. In that model worship is a special position of
the emotions and intention that elevates “God” above all other things. All
other beings can only be approached with some lesser degree of emotion and
intent – often described in English as reverence or devotion. The Roman church uses Latin terms:
Latria
vs. Dulia and Hyperdulia: Latria
is sacrificial in character, and may be offered only to God. Catholic and
Orthodox Christians offer other degrees of reverence to the Blessed Virgin Mary and to the Saints; these
non-sacrificial types of reverence are called hyperdulia
and dulia,
respectively. In English, dulia is also called veneration. Hyperdulia is
essentially a heightened degree of dulia provided only to the Blessed Virgin.
So
this is the deeply-written core notion of western religiosity – that worship
belongs only to the Highest, the Most True, the Ultimate, etc. I think this is
among the most important notions to discard as we attempt to regain an
understanding of ancient ways. It is an imposition of monotheism, for the most
part.
When
approaching a word with thick layers of meaning I like to return to
etymological origins. I know this isn’t the end of any story about a term, but
I like it for clarification. The term worship does not have, at its base, any
reference to the divine or spiritual. Instead it refers to the human act of
giving honor or respect to another.
Perhaps
we should begin at what may be the strange end for westerners – the worship due to other people.
“the five central religious duties or
"sacrifices" of the Hindu householder: paying homage to seers, to
Gods and elementals, to ancestors, to living beings and, manushya yajna,
"homage to men," which includes gracious hosting of guests.”
In
English we find ‘worship’ applied to magistrates and other ‘worthies’. There is
simply no reason to consider worship to be some high and special position of
the heart, reserved only for the highest and most-special things. It is proper,
in my opinion, to offer worship to anything in life one finds worthy of
respect.
In
fact, that would be my own definition of worship in a Pagan context:
The ritualized
expression of respect and honor.
The
ritualization part can feel funny for modern people in our informal age. In
more formal times ‘ritualized respect’ included proper forms of address and
detailed rules for social interactions. For some periods and in some places
this ritualized respect might have included a degree of ‘bowing and scraping’
(when your lord can kill you or make you rich at a whim, there’s this
tendency…). More commonly it includes exchange of gifts, mutual obligation and
mutual respect between me and the powers that I worship. In some extremely
formal situations, such as eastern guru-worship we see the material presence of
a teacher treated as the idol of a deity. That’s strange for moderns, but fully
within the spirit of the traditional idea of worship. Most notably for us it
again illustrates that worship in a polytheistic context is not limited to the highest
or ultimate being.
In
the same way, worship does not require any sense of hierarchy or
superiority/inferiority. Kings pay ritual respect to other kings, farmers to
farmers and, yes, gods to gods. I fall back on Hindu tales again, where when
one god petitions another for aid they are plainly said to worship and
sacrifice to them. Hellenic story is less specific, though we plainly see gods
petitioning other gods for aid. In modern Hinduism the pious greeting is the ‘Namaste’
or “Namaskar’, understood to mean “The god in me greets the god in you with
worship”.
![]() |
Durga is worshipped by other gods. |
In
this we can understand that no being is omnipotent. No being shapes the world
through personal will alone. All beings exist in relationship, depending on the
power and good-will of others for our successful lives. All beings must
maintain relationship with other beings in order to work our will – even individual
gods. Thus it is not abasement or acknowledgement of superiority that drives
worship, nor need it be based on overwhelming awe and wonder. Simply the need
or desire to establish relationship is all that is involved in the basic idea
of worship.
In
ADF we sometimes do a style of rite in which we pass the toasting cup, and each
present toasts to those spirits that are important to them. Strictly ethnic
Pagans might be appalled at some of our rounds, as people toast gods of various
cultures, ancestors, nature spirits and, often enough the spirits of living
animals, especially their personal companions. While I find a degree of humor
in worshipping one’s housepets, I can’t really fault it. It seems proper to
respect and honor those you allow to live with you, and thus proper to express
that respect in a sacred way. Worship is no more fraught than that.
Next,
I find that Pagan worship in no ways requires or assumes exclusivity. There is
not the slightest notion from ancient lore that the gods were jealous of one
another, or that they ‘competed’ for worshippers. While households, occupations
and districts might have their favorite local powers it was understood that
people invoked the gods at need, through the customary methods of offering and
asking. On the other hand too much is made of ‘categorizing’ the gods (love,
war, etc). If a worshipper had a relationship with a powerful spirit that would
be the first spirit one asks for aid, even if one is asking a mother goddess
for victory in strife. When travelling it was normative, and good manners, to
worship the gods of the house or land in which one found oneself. The notion of
loyalty to one’s gods did not commonly include exclusivity.
Some
religious models suggest that reciprocity is impiety – that we ought to worship
because the gods are too wonderful not to worship, and that asking for things
in turn is impious. There is great value in generating experiences of awe and
wonder in the personal mind. However, I think that from a Pagan perspective we
must set aside the notion that worship is primarily a response to awe.
Certainly approaching powerful spirits is like approaching a Tesla coil – it produces
effects. Those effects are, themselves, desirable, and lead to repeated action.
However I don’t think we need some moth-to-the-flame motivation for worship –
self-interest is a noble enough cause. We worship because it is good to worship
– it produces good for us, andfor the spirits with which we interact.

These
positions – mutual worship, non-exclusivity, the piety of reciprocity, and
praxis-preference – are easy to find attested in lore. Forgive me for not
tracking down citations for this blog post.
I
suppose my goal here is to rinse away some of the recent accretion of nonsense
on the fine old idea of worship. It’s no big deal. When you offer a guest a
drink on arrival it is worship. When you leave a harvesting-offering for an
herb or tree spirit it is worship. When you place your ancestors’ pictures in a
place of honor it is worship. From there of course one proceeds to the other traditional
elements of worship – singing hymns, giving praise, offering food and drink.
What guest would not be pleased by such kindnesses?
This
is why I do not hesitate to say that I worship my ancestors, or the
land-wights, or the ground I walk on. It’s only right, and no big deal.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
What’s a God?
I keep finding myself talking with folks who are making
deals with powerful spirits, entering long-term relationships with them, etc,
but who assert that they do not “worship gods”. It’s a thorny conceptual maze,
those terms, but one that is central to how we understand what it is we are
doing, and what the ancients and modern tribal peoples do. So I’ll take a whack
at trying to find the out-door.
I do think we must discard the entire corpus of post-pagan
theology and religious philosophy if we are to understand tribal and polytheist
thought. I begin by asserting that in a Euro-Pagan context, at least, there is
no such thing as a Creator and Lord of the Universe. No god is that. I don't
believe that absolute omnipotence or omniscience are available to any specific
being, and so I do not attribute those to gods. Relative omnipotence is another
matter.
I don't think that the All-Being of the cosmos is a person,
or accepts worship, or gives a crap about what happens to existence - it just
*is*. Mystics may have a use for it, but it's pretty pointless for common magic
and religion. In the same way I do not believe there is any plan in or for the
cosmos, unless several powerful beings get together and make one for a while.
The All does not exercise Providential Will. Individual gods exercise
individual will.
![]() |
A Roman Fire-Sacrifice |
The Germanic root of the term 'god' means "that to
which we sacrifice". Out of the great cosmos of spirits, many are
indifferent to mortals, but some choose to respond to our invocations. Out of
those, some are especially effective in granting us their blessings. These
beings become the gods of various peoples. Poets write pretty stories about
them, turn them into a big Royal Family, etc, but they are still a subset of
spirits.
So when I use the term god, generally, I mean 'a spirit who
answers offering with blessing'. Incidentally, I find that the term god is
entirely inappropriate to refer to the Ultimate Reality, or to the Ground of
Being. Once again, those are impersonal realities that do not love or hate,
have will or intention. I sometimes use the general term ‘the divine’, but I
mean it in the way one uses ‘nature’ to refer to general trends in the material
world.
So, let’s forget about all that, and try to begin from first
principles.
1: There are spirits. Leaving aside just what spirits
“really” are, it is obvious that humans in every age and culture have
experienced contacts with spirits. The development of relationships with those
spirits is what amounts to “religion”.
2: The development of relationships with the spirits brings
blessing. The reason our species bothered is that we perceived positive results
from our efforts with the spirits.
3: Over the eons we developed relationships with specific
spirits, often seeking great powers that transcended immediate locale (Sun,
moon, wind, etc) but also meeting local spirits of stone and stream. Renowned
ancestors may also become regular parts of a local religion. “Religion” then,
means re-linking. It is the regular maintenance of the links between mortals
and the spirits.
4: In a broad sense, in English, any of the spirits who are
offered to and respond to offerings are ‘gods’. They are also ‘spirits’.
Cultures differ about whether there’s a big distinction between those
categories.
For this to make sense we must entirely abandon the notion
that ‘god’ refers to some unique category, different in kind from the rest of
existence. Gods are not apart from nature, or from spirit, or from biological
life including humankind. Gods are specific beings within the broader category
of spirits. They may be big, cosmic-y gods, or immediate local gods. Ancient
Pagans had no problem referring to the gods of the hearth or the well, referring
to spirits much lesser in cosmic-story significance than the Olympians. Any
spirit with whom one enters a relationship of offering-and-response can
reasonably be referred to as a god, though it is often useful to define
additional subcategories. In Greek the word theos is applied both to spirits
who receive worship and to human kings and rulers. In that usage a ‘god’ is not
limited even to spirit beings, but is any
being that has the power to give blessing in return for honor.
To be complete it is worthwhile to examine the mythic model
that also answers my original question. In this I must limit myself to Indo-European
examples, both for brevity and because that’s as far as my slim expertise
extends.
In Euro-Pagan story, an original chaos comes to be divided
(mysteriously) into polar
opposites. These usually impersonal opposites then
generate the basis of existence-in-form. From that basis, by various premises,
the first personal beings arise, occupying the closest we see to a ‘prime mover’
in old models. These primal beings are ‘gods’ mainly in the sense that they are
ancient and renowned – they seldom receive worship in the actual cult of the
people. Perhaps one or more of these primal beings finds a place in the final
pantheon. Often a later god-name becomes associated with a primal figure of
tribal stories.
From these usually dim and symbolic origins arise tales of a
first family of deities. Usually confused, miraculous and incestuous, the great
ones play and war among themselves. Usually a primal war occurs, between the
gods who later become the
gods of mortals, and other powers less friendly to human comfort. The gods who like mortals defeat the gods who don’t care, and the bits or order that allow life are carved out. Our world is one such orderly enclosure, held fast by our gods and spirits.
gods of mortals, and other powers less friendly to human comfort. The gods who like mortals defeat the gods who don’t care, and the bits or order that allow life are carved out. Our world is one such orderly enclosure, held fast by our gods and spirits.
My above abstract model might seem to lack in reverence. The mythic model
includes it fully. The gods, in this case, are the eldest and mightiest, wise
and caring, who maintain the turning of seasons and support the continuation
and prosperity of the tribe. They are worthy of worship by their very natures,
the way an accomplished hero is worthy.
In practice the mythic model is still fairly permeable. That
First Family adopt others, have new children, marry and make alliances. Local
spirits and ancestors may be promoted, variant pantheons are normative. Most of
the basic formula proposed above still applies in fact, whatever the poets say.
So, if I were to answer my own question, in light of all
this, I might say:
A god is a being,
especially a spirit, who has power and will answer honorable worship with good blessing.
While the term can be applied even to small local spirits, it is most often
reserved for the oldest, greatest or most central of the spirits honored by a
tribe.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
The 'Authority' of Paganism

Because
our OP was new to Paganism, I begin with some basics. Always worth a bit of
restatement…
'Paganism' can, for the sake of this discussion,
be defined as "the naturally-occurring religious impulse of a local
area" By naturally-occurring I mean that it hasn't been brought in by
preachers or prophets, and reflects the
tradition-whose-beginnings-aren't-remembered. by 'religious impulse' I mean the
human inclination to make relationship with a perceived 'spiritual' reality -
with the persons and beings seen to reside in the world. by 'local area' I
refer to the worship of beings local to the religion - the god of *that*
mountain, *those* stars.
Paganism like that isn't revealed by the divine to mortals as commandments and
prescriptions. Rather it grows out of the nature of humans, matter and the
divine, the same way plants and animals grow, and the way that music or poetry
has grown among humans. It "just is". The rest is detail.
To be fair, one should look at a little of that detail. The Pagan religions
that early Christians knew were the indigenous and traditional religions of
Europe and the Middle East. While modern historians have theories on where
those cultures came from, and how they grew, for those living in Rome or
Ireland the ways were just the ways - the stuff people had always done to keep
relationship with the spirits. They didn't have an original prophet, or a
'founder'. They didn't have a 'scripture' on which the Ways were founded, they
were a collection of customs, ways and specific artistic inheritances (hymns,
images, etc) that together made up the 'religion' part of life.
Our modern Paganism is a set of efforts to reclaim the kind of spirituality
enjoyed by the ancients. We observe the work of modern polytheists (there are a
few 'pagan' religions still in business, unbroken, but not many), study the
records of pre-Christian religion in Europe, cobble together experiments and
try them, and through all that we devise ways of relating with the spirits that
we hope resemble those of the ancients.
Some specific modern Pagan systems can be said to have founders. Gardnerian
Wicca, specific Asatru organizations, ADF all have known histories. However in
every case members of the systems take them home, experiment with them and vary
them as local conditions warrant. There is no original 'authority'.
Perhaps that's what your original discussion was really about - what is the
*authority* of Paganism? Christianity places great store in the authority of
their scriptures, allegedly authored by their God, and thus the Final Document
in all disputes. Paganism neither needs nor wants any such thing, and never
did. In my spirituality the Authority of the divine rests in my own heart. The
divine is distributed among all things, and that includes us humans. When I
decide to approach the greater divine (the gods, etc) I do it by my own will
and work, informed by the teachings of others like me in the past. Certainly
the spirits give their input and inspiration, but they are partners in the
work, not lords of it. Paganism has the authority of nature - it exists because
it was natural for it to exist, and nature is the true depiction of the divine.
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