More of the same…

*Sigh*

You know I realize that I’m starting to sound like a broken record. I don’t particularly like being that guy who’s always having to raise flags whenever pagans do something dumb, but I guess somebody’s got to do it.

You see, it’s a widespread misconception that no one really knows the origins of April Fools Day. However, as explained by several scholarly studies like Gillian Owens’s “Norwegian Folkmyth and Avril Toulle”, the holiday has a pretty dark past, one that — given pagans virulent ire over days like St. Patrick’s Day — I’m surprised we don’t discuss more.

You see, April Fool’s Day started in the 1600s when the Christians began to take firmer hold of the northern reaches of the Norwegian coastline, where pre-Christian polytheist practices were still widespread. A French missionary, Avril Toulle (corrupted into “April Fool,” you see) was sent to re-convert the masses. Chaucer’s Canterberry Tales relate an English version of the story in which “Avril Doole” took it upon himself to dress up as the Devil and pop out from behind bushes and trees whenever he saw ancient Heathenry being practiced. Having frightened the pagans, he would then go on to berate them for their misconduct and force them to confess on the spot.

Avril’s reputation preceeded him, and as he made north into the colder reaches, folks began to anticipate a visit from the Devil-man, and so when Avril reached a certain town and began to pull his “prank,” the villagers all responded with wailing and displays of devout piety. At first Avril was pleased, thinking that he had finished his work reconverting the countryside; however, he soon found out that the villagers were in a state of distress because, so they told him, Rome had burnt down to the ground. Much to the villagers’ delight, Avril believed their lie (Rome was, of course, just fine) and rushed back to the St. Peter’s where, unfortunately, his devil costume was found and he was hung as a heretic.

And so, as you can see, there *is* a story here, one with elements similar to the St. Patrick story: A man comes to a distant land and begins routing out paganism. But there’s a twist, in that in this story it’s the proverbial “Snakes” that “win” as the villagers play Avril at his own game and successfully prank him.

After Avril’s departure from Norway, it became a tradition there to dress up in costumes and jump out at passersby during April. The practice moved to England where the Day of Avril Fool was set as April 1st and the tradition of lying to friends in order to upset them became a part of the festival, in rememberance of the villagers’ response to Avril. And thus we have the traditions today.

But I’ve got to ask everyone: Is it really right for us to celebrate a day that commemorates the actions of a missionary? Perhaps you’ll say that we’re remembering not the missionary, but the righteous pagans’ ingenious response to the threat of forced conversion — but to that I must ask, is it right to celebrate a jest that ended in a man’s death? I’m not saying that there are easy answers to this, I’m just wondering if it’s not a little hypocritical of all of us to get up in arms about certain commemorative days, but not others — when the litmus test seems to be whether or not we have taken the time to do our research.

You can find more information about the questionable origin of April Fool’s day here.

Neoplatonism at Cherry Hill

A friend sent me this link today, knowing that it would pique my interest. It piques my interest because 1) my sub-specialty in the field of Islamic History is the history of Islamic Neoplatonism, and 2) I’ve written before on the problematic relationship between Neopaganism and Neoplatonism.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Cherry Hill Seminary recently, for a variety of reasons. I almost applied there, for one thing! But more to the point at the moment is a conversation I had a few months ago at a meeting of the Hyde Park Pagan Potluck*: We were discussing the possibility (or rather, the impossibility) of pagan education, and whether or not such a thing is possible when pagan theology and practice is so nebulously (and often contradictorily) defined. Eventually we came to the topic of pagan seminaries, of which the best example is Cherry Hill. Without clear boundaries as to what constitutes contemporary paganism, its theology, history, and practice, how is it possible to create meaningful syllabi for study?  (At the moment I won’t go into my problems with “Pagan Studies” as a field. Regardless, if no one is clear on what exactly makes up paganism, how can one study “Pagan Ministry”?)

The last thing that has been on my mind recently about Cherry Hill was Dr. Catherine Hoff Kraemer’s remarks during the New Media panel at this year’s Pantheacon, which was made available to me and to you through the courtesy of T. Thorn Coyle, here.

What’s got my mental gears a-grindin’ today is this: By its very nature as an academic institution, Cherry Hill has had to find a working answer to the question of “What is Paganism?” In so doing, the seminary is also a normativizing force, suggesting bit-by-bit what exactly defines pagan theology.

And that’s fine. What I find frustrating (distasteful?) is that, by virtue of their endorsement of Sam Webster’s Neoplatonic theurgy intensive, their answer to this question seems to be, at least in part: “Neoplatonism.”

Nocturnal Me.

Sleep has been eluding me, my friends, for about a week now. It’s 5:40 Am and, just like every night recently, I find myself gazing at myself in the mirror that sits across from my bed, holding staring contests with myself. So far, it’s been a standoff.

I’ve always jokingly said that I’m just nocturnal. Whenever I haven’t got somewhere to be in the mornings, I find myself staying up later and later into the evenings, until it becomes like this when I couldn’t even get to sleep before 3 AM if I wanted to.

We used to live in a pretty big house out in the country, and I remember sneaking downstairs (though I’m sure my parents weren’t unawares, really) and watching cartoons all night every weekend, challenging myself to stay up past midnight, past 1 AM, past — gasp! — 2, 3, 4, and even once, one glorious saturday morning, staying up and meeting the sun as it rose up over the hedge-apple row. I remember slowly opening the front door (it must have been around 5:30) and walking out onto the concrete sidewalk that went out to the driveway — the ground was too cold for my bare feet and I wanted to rush back inside, but everything was so beautiful: The Sun rising in the east, over the hedgerow (“Don’t go there — snakes”) and butterflies in the field that sloped down along the long drive to the highway. There was corn in the field out to the west that year, and even though I wouldn’t dare go out into the corn rows at night for fear of monsters and axe-murderers, there in the morning light and the cold, crisp air the smell of the still-green ears rushed into my lungs like a drug.

On the nights when my resolve wasn’t so firm, I’d lay down a blanket on the floor in front of the TV and nod off to whatever I’d found on the Satellite, to be found in the morning and shooed off by my mother, or by the sound of my grandparents driving up the lane ready to take me to church.

Those were the times when I saw my first episode of Star Trek. It was the TOS episode “The Apple,” the one with the lizard-headed cave and the orange-skinned “humanoid primitives.” It was also when I saw reruns of Tales from the Crypt and Back to the Future.

It was also the first time (to the horror of my parents, I’m sure) that I saw string bikinis (thanks to Starz’s late-nite lineup–I was scandalized), fuzzy soft-core, and B horror flicks and Audrie Hepburn and — AND — Tom Cruise’s pre-Scientology wonder-thighs and the gay fantasy nerd wet dream that is the film Legend.

…I suppose I could go on about this for a great long while, but there wouldn’t be much point to it. I’ve just noticed the daylight coming in the window now, just like that day when I was 8. I’m not what you’d call a “Morning Person,” but I do love these few moments when I’m still awake and the world around me is just waking up. Hmm… Anyway, it’d be nice if my nocturnal nature didn’t kick in the week before finals!

 

Have a nice week. Light a candle for Japan.

A Rant About Unintended Insults

What I am about to tell you is not about paganism—or maybe it is. Also: The following is a rant.

It happened again today, you see, or perhaps last week. There I was, conversing as always (surely about French Structuralism, or the nature of the Image, or how much I love Reuben sandwiches) when someone raised their hand and cut me off.

“Wait a minute,” they said, obviously puzzled, “did you just say the word y’all?”

“Why yes, yes I did,” I reply, and before the conversation could go on any further I already knew how it would go: First, my co-conversationalist would look me over, sizing me up – Are they wondering whether I am a physical threat, I ask myself? Hardly. Are they considering my potential bone-ability? Hopefully, but alas, probably not.

Are they trying to work out the perceived contradiction between my oh-so hip and urban Gap jacket, my Boystown buzz-cut, and my sizeable vocabulary (on the one hand) and (on the other) the torrent of stereotypes, pre-conceived notions, and generally not-so-couth ideas about rural (often “Southern”) America? Bingo. Then, they will verbally kick me in the face:

“But,” they tease, obviously unaware of my inner monologue, “you don’t act like a hick.” Apparently the reality of my rural background has hit them for the first time, and they don’t know what to do with this new information.

On Books and Blogs

Hello there, my wonderfuls. It’s been a busy few weeks here at Chez Rapture. Before I post something of substance (you may have noticed that those take a while!) I just wanted to give you a few updates.

First, I’m excited to let you know that I have become a new co-blogger over at Pantheon. My first post went up yesterday. To be honest, one of the reasons I haven’t written much here recently is because I’ve been retooling some of my material that was in progress to become Pantheon posts! Take note that, after the successful recent series on the “Future of Paganism,” Pantheon is currently looking for submissions for a new series on gender in paganism; you should think about contributing!

Second, Ruby Sara and I have been hard work preparing for Golden Harvest, an event being put on in the Chicagoland area by Earth Traditions. RS and I are totally freaking out (no, really, we know our lines!) about presenting the gathering’s main ritual. Funnily enough, I am typing this message ensconced among the many bookmaker’s tools that RS’s Intrepid Spouse has used to fashion for us handmade goddamned books (!) containing the various liturgies that we have written and performed over the last year. Look out for future links to buy these handmade goddamned books in the near future! Here’s an excerpt from our most recent liturgy, “Table & Stranger: An Ingathering Rite for Harvest Home.”

Friends! Beloveds! Gather in! The light is waning and the darkness clothes the trees with the promise of bonfires and long nights. The flicker and burn of summer is a memory, and winter hovers just beyond the golden hill. This is the very heart of autumn, a time of food and feast, of friend and fellow, of giving and thanksgiving. A time of in-gathering, when we meet with loved ones around full tables and heavy baskets bursting with apples. Gather in and gather ’round to celebrate this harvest feast!

For it is now, as the darkness swells and the shadows lengthen, that we call out to Old Coat! Fox-Faced Singer! Mischief Maker! Cackling Storyteller! Peasant-King!

Old Coat, the Devil at the Crossroads! King of Hearsay and Lies, King of Smoke, Lord of Broken Mirrors! His is the Story and the Song, the Up and the Down, the Near and the Far! He is the Shape-Changer and Edge-Walker, and He whistles His crazy music down the dusty roads and back streets! With staff in hand, He wears a cap He stole from his brother the Blackbird, and the patches on His coat are cut from green grass and golden wheat fields… A Friend to all People, Desire and Deception! Who is He, that Wildest of Gods? Would you know Him if you saw Him? Sure as sure, He knows you!

Insomniac Rain & Pagan Kashrut

August has been (had been!) an interesting month indeed here at The Great Tininess, full of a few ups and downs. On the up-side, I’ve moved into a new apartment complete with four flights of stairs and a pressure-less shower. I guess it is a good thing, though, since I have a much reduced chance of accidentally stepping on Ruby Sara‘s cat.

The real downer is that I can’t sleep. No, I mean I can’t sleep. For the last week or so I’ve been a complete insomniac, up at cockscrow (after having unsuccessfully lain in bed for a few eons, or a wide-eyed, 12 episode marathon of Stargate Atlantis) and bumming around the apartment like a sad excuse for a vegetarian zombie. I’ve been entertaining myself with a lot of porn reading, like James C. Scott’s The Art of NOT Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia (Yale, 2009) and J. C. De Moore’s The Rise of Yahwism: The Roots of Israelite Monotheism (1997). Next in the queue is Miguel Leon-Portilla’s Pre-Columbian Literatures of Mexico (Norman, 1969). As you can tell, I’m a hoot at dinner parties…

“Empires of Food”

I caught this show on NPR today. The program, concerning a new book Empires of Food: Feast, Famine, and the Rise and Fall of Civilizations, touches on a few issues I’ve been thinking a lot about recently, and echoes some topics brought up in the blog posts I pointed out yesterday. Particularly interesting is co-author Evan Fraser’s assertion that economy trumps ecology only at our great peril.

How we eat, produce food could bring down society. – with Guy Raz

A Question: Who’s Pagan?

So, obviously you can tell that what is bugging my mind recently are issues of definition. My sense is that in order to set about defining paganism as a concept we need to figure out who we’re trying to talk about when we try to use the word pagan.

I say that we need to establish a clear in-group. So, I have a question for all of you: What groups and individuals can we safely say fall squarely and entirely within the bounds of paganism?

Of course, I plan to problematize these bounds later; so right now I’m just asking for your instincts, based on your interactions with communities and gatherings. We can talk about who may or may NOT be pagans later (Satanists, Voodooists, Thelemites) but right now I want to know who’s unambiguously pagan.

My gut tells me that Wiccans can be considered unambiguously pagan. I’ve never heard of an individual who claims to be a Wiccan, though not a pagan. Thoughts?

My plan, after getting y’all’s help in finding a few more examples (Druids, maybe?) is then to see whether or not these groups stack up against several proposed definitions of “pagan”.

EDIT: Perhaps a more useful way to phrase my question is, “Members of what group or groups unanimously identify as pagan?”

Why I Hate “Project Pagan Enough”

I could not have planned this better if I had tried. Project Pagan Enough, a “movement” initiated by Pagan blogger Fire Lyte, is a stark example of exactly the sort of lack of maturity within the Pagan community that I talked about in my last post. You see, there are really three things going on with Project Pagan Enough.

First, Project Pagan Enough calls for tolerance regarding the way that people dress or the choices (including musical taste, for example) that people make that may make them appear “too mainstream” to Pagans who think that Paganism necessarily needs to stand outside of the mainstream. Indeed, this seems to be the main thrust of PPE:

If you listen to Lady Gaga right alongside Kellianna, you are still pagan enough. If you don’t mind wearing Abercrombie & Fitch, Prada, or other name brand, mainstream clothing to the local pagan festival, you are still pagan enough.

Okay, I get it. Some people don’t dig the idea that, as participants in alternative spiritualities, our choices regarding music, clothing, etc. should necessarily be alternative. And I agree! I don’t think that any decision made merely for the sake of being unlike someone else can be productive: That’s just negative definition, which I’m against. However, I DO think that a case can be made that Pagans should be making decisions that happen to be counter-cultural. For example, I don’t believe that rampant consumerism can be compatible with an earth-based spirituality and, therefore, I think that Pagans (who claim to be earth-centered, or at least should do so) should eschew practices that embody this (i.e., buying Prada).

As a Pagan whose appearance might be construed as “mainstream”–I wear jeans and black t-shirts; I have no piercings or tattoos; my hair is blonde and cropped–I have to say that a “movement” to end harassment against this is ludicrous. Any individual must be able to stand up for him- or herself concerning the choices that he or she makes. If someone is making fun of you for the clothes you wear, do something to deal with it! Call them out on it! Argue! Stand up for yourself! The fact that the online community has reacted to this pledge while continuing to ignore issues of actual importance displays quite clearly the childish behavior of those involved. This isn’t middle school, folks.

But this isn’t the only point being made by Project Pagan Enough. Additionally, PPE seeks to encourage interfaith tolerance:

Also, Project Pagan Enough seeks to encourage members of the pagan community to be more tolerant of other religions, beliefs, and practices. What do I mean? Aren’t we the most tolerant of all faith-based communities? Well, what happens when you hear the word ‘Christian?’ Are you still that tolerant, loving, inclusive pagan?

[...] Project Pagan Enough seeks to say that we should be secure enough in our beliefs and ourselves to truly tolerate other religions and stop laying blame for what we consider to be the evils of the world on the doorstep of other faiths.

How exactly this interfaith message is related to being “Pagan Enough” eludes me. On the one hand, I think that it is essential for Pagans to work toward getting over the rampant anti-Christian bigotry that I see plaguing our community; on the other hand, I think that the sentiment of Project Pagan Enough is exactly that shallow sort of “tolerance” that I railed against in my last entry [linked to above].

And here’s why: The third and most inconspicuous of the facets of Project Pagan Enough is its insistence that Pagans should be all-inclusive not only regarding clothing and music choices, but also including practice and belief:

You are pagan enough, despite how you look, act, smell, dress, believe, or are.

You recognize that others are pagan enough despite their appearance, smell, manner of dress, belief, practice, or other aspect.

In other words, here we are again: “Paganism” is meaningless. If it is possible for anyone who believes anything and does anything to be “Pagan Enough”, Paganism is a so-called “religious tradition” that has neither set beliefs nor set practices and therefore cannot be viewed as any sort of religious tradition at all. By the parameters of Project Pagan Enough, anyone that has ever lived is “Pagan Enough,” including all Christians, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Jains, Hindus, Sikhs, Scientologists, Raelians, or Atheists. Anybody.

Project Pagan Enough is an immature attempt to solve immature problems. I hope that those who have engaged in this “riot” will further examine their own choices and their relationship to Paganism and begin to ask why it is that they have involved themselves with something that they themselves assert to be ultimately baseless. I hope that others will look at Project Pagan Enough and see in it an excellent example of the real problems facing contemporary Paganism, and that they will work toward a deepening, rather than a shallowing, of Pagan discourse.

My Thoughts on Pagan Religious Dress

Ever since learning about Sailor Mars, I’ve always wanted to be a monk (err, I guess a Nun. Specifically, one of these). Now, that was at a very impressionable young age, and since then I’ve wanted to be many other things “when I grow up”: Archaeologist, architect, cartoonist, porn star, scholar, revolutionary. But the monastic urge has never left me. Now, I could (and will) write a whole post about what a Pagan monasticism might look like, and what some Pagans have done in order to begin such traditions. All I want to talk about right now, though, is clothing.

You see, one of the aspects of the monastic life that has always appealed to me is the idea of formal dress, dress with a purpose. Dress that comes out of a tradition; dress that others like you have worn before.  Dress that is a constant reminder to one’s-self and to one’s community of a commitment to religious life.

Back when I almost converted to Islam, a not-insignificant part of my reasons for potentially doing so was that Islam has a thriving culture of—if not exactly “monastic”—traditional religious garb. Hijabi women I know (that is, women who wear Islamic head coverings) often explain that their decision to wear the hijab comes out of a recognition of tradition, a fulfillment of (what they themselves interpret to be) religious obligation, and a commitment to expressing their religiosity at all times. Of course, these same women must continually negotiate issues concerning the oppression of women through prescribed clothing, and that is an ongoing (and raging) discussion that I won’t go into here.

Men in Islam might also wear religious garb; hats like skullcaps are the most recognizable form of this. They do so out of respect for Allah and, again, in order to keep themselves mindful of their faith. This idea of “mindfulness” is one reason (along with religious dictation–it’s built into the system) that Jewish people might wear tzitzit (fringes).

And so, like I said just a second ago, these ideas of 1) constant mindfulnessand 2) affiliation with tradition appeal to me. Concerning the first point, this can be managed by anyone privately, I think, and Pagans often wear jewelry to this effect. I and many others wear necklaces or rings with specific personal or cultural meanings that remind us of, say, our commitment to certain Gods or practices. But to me, this is on too small of a scale. Everyone’s jewelry is different; it’s all personal, not communal, and therefore it does not imply a relationship with a group. The only thing we have that comes close to this is the iconography of the pentacle, but it’s not like we -all- wear pentacles, or the same pentacles, nor do all Pagans recognize the pentacle as meaningful!

Now, the examples of religious dress that I just described from Islam and Judaism all come out of the interaction between religious law and cultural norms. As American Neopagans, we have neither law from which we gain ideas about dress, and a large part of our ethos is the rejection of the social mores of the dominant culture. So, two questions arise:

What statements would we want to be making with our choices about religious garb, and what source(s) might we draw from in order to design the clothing?

Now, just to be clear, I realize that trying to work out common practices for Neopagans to adopt is like trying to herd anarchist zombie kittens that have rabies and are all on fire. Still, I think that it’s an exercise that’s worth doing, especially since I am by no means suggesting that ALL Pagans should (or MUST!!!1!) conform to any sort of dress practice. I’m just saying that we should think over the possibilities of starting a few practices that, over time, could grow into meaningful and optional practices among certain kinds of Pagans. ((There, caveats done!))

For me, Paganism is all balanced on two pillars: Earth-centered spirituality and respect for ancient Pagan traditions. So, I think that as Pagans our goal in creating religious garb should be to highlight these two things, while at the same time creating that sense of communion that I’ve discussed above.

I think that clothing choices based on Earth-centered spirituality must be ecologically aware, but that could mean many different things. To me, this implies a rejection of capitalism (being a plague on the planet, frankly) and so a movement toward clothing that is not branded. Personally, the aesthetics of a simplified, smaller, even plain wardrobe speaks to me; however, it is also true that a joyous grokking of the Earth calls out in a language of mess and vibrancy, and so one’s Earth-centered clothing might reflect that fact through color and texture. Truthfully, the negotiation of this conundrum might be one of the most productive sources for ecotheological dialogue in Paganism, and so I won’t try to draw any conclusions on the topic here.

Regarding the ancient traditions from which we take inspiration, there are many things for us to look at, including the proto- or pseudo-religious orders that existed in the past. As one example, this book details traditions relating to devotees of Isis, including the donning of black skullcaps. The problem with this, of course, is that each ancient practice that we might draw upon is necessarily culturally inflected, and so I can anticipate that it would be difficult for us to build any pan-Pagan traditions out of these.

All of this means, then, that I might have set myself to an impossible task. We may never be able to devise any sort of Neopagan religious garb, and that’s fine. I realize that my impulse toward head-coverings and simple clothing is my own, although I’m aware that it’s not JUST me. I guess what it comes down to is this: We can’t set about trying to make up these things; instead, it might be that we have to wait until inspiration hits us and decidedly “neo-” practices come about. Sure, now monks wear apron-like robes, but that came about practically and then spread. I think that this is how all of this must come about—the problem is that all that takes time, a -long- time, and I’m impatient! We also have to ask ourselves what sort of clothing choices we make generally (and not necessarily out of a devotional impulse) that might later inform such a practice; as for me, I’m not looking forward to seeing any sort of Pagan monastic orders that wear tie-dye Celtic knot robes with pewter sandals and crushed velvet hats!!

((Now, I do have ideas floating around in my head, don’t get me wrong! The most productive idea I’ve had, I think, is that Pagans could adopt the practice of devotional scapulars. These have a form that can remain constant while supporting the individuality needed in any Pagan practice.))