My Gods Are Not Archetypes

(or “How to decay all meaning in language and religion and life altogether”)

Normally I try not to write from a focused, “targeted” place or perspective, and instead take a generalized and broad-stroke approach. (In other words I prefer to drop napalm on a whole region, rather than knife a single person in the skull, in order to not offend any one single person's delicate feelings more than anyone else's. That's how we do in Democratic California, or so I'm told...) However, today is an exception... kind of. I'm going to share a specific exchange (name removed for the respect of that person's privacy) from a Facebook encounter just a short while ago, not to attack the author (or knife her single belief in the skull) but instead to open up a bigger, napalm-esque issue. Here goes:

As I write this, it's early Friday afternoon and I'm just back from running errands and I'm about to start preparations for a House ritual tomorrow and my Memorial Day observances Monday.  When I was out and about today, several people wished me 'happy holiday' and you know, we all work hard, and I understand the anticipation of a three day weekend, or an unexpected day off, so I returned the greeting but I couldn't help but think "this isn't  a holiday. It's so much more than that." and I wonder if anyone gives any thought anymore to what Memorial Day is really about. 

Memorial Day is a big deal in my devotional world. For those who may not know, it's a day in the US  specifically set aside to honor all those who died while serving in the armed forces. It used to be called Decoration Day, and people would go to military cemeteries, or the section of cemeteries set aside for the military dead and decorate the tombstones with flags, wreaths, and flowers. Now, we have bar-b-qs and go shopping and maybe watch a parade. I find that sad. 

My Gods Are Not Characters

My religion is not fan-fiction. For some reason this is actually a thing that people are confused by.

There's been some interesting talks about gods, heroes, and superheroes in the blog-o-sphere in the last week or two. This has brought up several topics that I have long been outspoken on in private discussions and dialoging with the colleagues, friends, and family that I engage with ritually, devotionally, and theologically. I have offended a few close to me with my views (though this was not my intention) and I have been misunderstood by some, agreed with by others, and had others merely roll their eyes because they didn't see the issues I was addressing as being as “big” as I was making them out to be. I am going to use the current rise of these topics to jump in – even if a little late to the show, as I've been caught up in other things for what seems like ages and ages – and share my views, because I do find these topics to be very important. The recently discussed worship of fictional super-heroes in either “hero cultus” style or as actual deities is one that I find alarming – both from a theological/devotional perspective and perhaps also a mental-health one. I'm going to be open about that part of my view right in the beginning: I have concerns that the worship of *fictional* characters is a dangerous avenue of engagement for its inherent and fundamental blurring of lines between credible reality (even spiritual, mystic, and transcendent reality!) and intentional fiction.

As I see it, there are three pillars of the Kemetic religion(s), in all its (or their) many forms. These pillars are:  The gods, the practices, and the concept of ma'at. It is this third, ma'at, that I will be discussing in this particular post.

Ma'at is often translated as Truth, Justice, Good, Order, or Cosmic Order. It is all of those things at once, in a way that can't be adequately conveyed with any one of the above English words or phrases.  For the Egyptians, the stability of the cosmos was not a fundamentally different thing from a king ruling justly. They were both manifestations of ma'at, and the lack thereof (an unstable cosmos, an unjust king, with the resulting disorder in the land) would be considered a lack of ma'at, and signs of  its opposite, isfet (often translated as "evil" or "disorder".)

The gods are said to live on ma'at as we live on food. I would stretch this bit of theology farther, based on a couple of points:

When a person comes into magic, they often do so largely because they're looking for that magical wand for themselves. Either they're looking for a magical cure for their problems, or they're looking for an explanation why things work out the way they do, and so on. They often don't even give themselves a moment to consider the applications for other people. Even the nicer kinds of people often have this blind spot- they're not being selfish, they're being considerate of meddling in other people's affairs.

Still, I have often said that the true mark of a magician of any sort (be it shaman, sorcerer, witch, etc.) is how they use their powers in aid of another. After all, the first focus of any magician is the mastery of one's self and one's own life. Of course, once one has accomplished that (no easy task, to be sure, but it is the first goal), it should stand to reason that a person would naturally turn their gaze outward towards their surroundings.

In the Marvel Universe (yes, I'm referencing comic books in my magical practice), there are three kinds of true magic- Arcanum Ego, or the magic of one's self and one's own personal "energies"; Arcanum Eco, the magic of one's environment and natural power; and Arcanum Exo, the magic of extraplanar forces and beings. For myself and my own experience, this seemed entirely natural as a system of understanding. My own studies of astrology have taught about the modes of Personal, Interpersonal, and Transpersonal ideology and wisdom- if you haven't learned this yet, the twelve signs are split into four Personal (Aries, Taurus, Gemini, and Cancer), four Interpersonal (Leo, Virgo, Libra, and Scorpio), and four Transpersonal signs (Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces).

Today I was chatting with my colleague Ochani Lele (who will be appearing on Wyrd Ways Radio on June 5), author of "Sacrificial Ceremonies of Santeria: A Complete Guide to the Rituals and Practices," "Diloggun Tales of the Natural World," and several other books.  We were discussing our respective Holy Powers when he asked me a question that made me stop and, after answering it, ask him if he'd mind me using it as a question here.   During the course of our conversation, he said to me: 

"You know . . . having Jewish blood, I've always been a bit afraid of Norse religion. Just out of curiosity, how do you think your gods would react to someone with Jewish blood taking up their worship? Would they respond? Would they accept? What about an African, or an African American? How would the Norse gods respond to such a person? Are they beyond racial boundaries, like the Orishas? I'm assuming they would be . . . but assumptions often get me in trouble. What are your thoughts on that?"

What did it mean to be a priest in ancient Egypt? 

Roving mendicant, parish pastor, fiery evangelist or vodoun mystic – so many stereotypes joust for attention when you speak the word.  Egyptian priests, however, were very different from the typical modern western image of a minister.  Their primary obligation was to conduct daily and seasonal rites in order to perpetuate the balance between the neteru (gods) and the earthly realm.  Healing, magical and literary and musical arts developed around these rites.  But preaching, converting, pastoral care for a congregation, and the like were not part of the job.

A hem-netjer (servant of the god) might be attached to a temple for life as a permanent vocation.  Other priests served in rotation, living at home with wife and children most of the year.  Celibacy was not a requirement for priesthood, though married priests during the New Kingdom abstained from sex before coming to the temple for their period of service.  In the large temples, divisions of labor resulted in specialties like the wab priest (a sort of ritual helper), sem priest (performed funeral rites), and kherheb (lector) priest, who recited texts and often performed magic.

In Osireion practice, we look at the figure of the priest as an allegory or type for our own daily living.  That does not mean we go live in a stone temple, but that we contemplate the devotion of the priest to spiritual practice.  We do not feel that we are inherently unclean, but we do find it meaningful to dip our hands in clean water before a ritual, to signify that we are washing away what is unwanted in our lives and coming to the altar with a clear and open heart.  We burn incense before the statues of our gods, but we are well aware that the scent has a powerful effect on our own human minds, instantly connecting us to the realm of spirit.  We shake the sistra, not only because it was believed that the gods like the sound, butmodel of devotional practice, in particular.

Today, however, we live in communities which are accustomed to a pastoral culture of ministry.  This need not be a conflict for independent-minded Pagans; humans naturally congregate and form groups based on shared values and practice.  Within those groups, some will emerge as possessing specific skills needed by the others.  There is honor and beauty in the idea of caring for others in our spiritual communities.  Intentional nurturing of one’s own spirituality, in addition to learning about ethics, leadership, ceremony and pastoral care, brings about a model for priesthood which can serve the growing new Egyptian spirituality communities.

“O Ra, Lord of Light, Giver of Life and taker of it, cast your light of peace unto the world. So commands the Chief Lector Priest, Haroeris M7, everliving in Ma’at.”

From Selections of Ancient Egyptian Prayer, © Copyright 2009 Michael J. Costa (M7), All rights reserved.

I don't want to talk about this.

Every fiber of my being is resisting - and that's why I'm going to do it. "The way of the transgressor is hard." I've called this series Blurring Boundaries for a reason - because that's what being a Dionysian comes down to. A constant struggle to be free and true, tearing away the masks no matter how painful the process, striving for an openness that leaves you so raw the wind against your skin bruises and filled with a monstrous hunger to experience more, always more, no matter the cost. Being alive and knowing fully what your flesh is capable of.

That is what being a Dionysian means to me, and it's terrifying as the face of the Devourer, my sweet prince, is terrifying. I love him and I will never stop pouring myself out for him. And I know that he would do the same for me because I am an initiate.

I walked into a convenience store a few weeks ago and made a startling discovery. I must have walked by that store a hundred times, but I had no idea that it held one of the greatest selections of magazines and newspapers in the area. As I browsed, I was astonished to see the face of the Black Madonna staring back at me. 

For those of you who read French, the hors-series edition of Sciences et Avenir (Science and the Future), January-February 2013, is an absolute gem.

https://www.epresse.fr/magazine/sciences-et-avenir-hors-serie/2013-01-01

A little over a week ago, I introduced a new series for the blog: a short series about the labours of Hēraklēs. In that post, I described the life of Hēraklēs up until the point where he set out to complete the tasks. Today, I'm taking you through the first of twelve labours: Hēraklēs' challenge to slay the Nemean lion.

The Leon Nemeios (Λεον Νεμειος), or Nemean lion has been described with a large variety of parents. Selene is mentioned by Aelian and Seneca, amongst others, but one of the drakons is also possible, especially Echidna. Diodorus Siculus, in his Library of History describes the lion so: 

(As readers of my Wytch of the North blog know, Queen Anne Boleyn is the most prominent member of a group of spirits I refer to as "The Queens"--since they literally are the spirits of dead queens--whom I have adopted as my Disir, and who have adopted me in turn and are kind enough to favor me with Their advice and support.  I may cover the story of how Anne first came into my life in another post, but for now I would like to share the below thoughts that were inspired by my Work with Her.  Probably this is more or less common knowledge, but for those who may not know, Anne Boleyn was beheaded by her husband, Henry VIII of England, on May 19th 1536, on false charges of adultery and incest.  Thus, I have set aside May 19th each year as Queen Anne's Day, which I observe by processing to our local Owen Memorial Rose Garden here in Eugene, where I leave gifts and offer prayers for her, and then at home I prepare a Tudor-era inspired feast in her honor.  This year, I will also be presenting prayers and poetry submitted as gifts for her by my readers.  Anne's death was a great tragedy, but as I commented recently on my blog, I think it's important to remember how she lived--boldly, with style and aplomb--and not just how she died.)

This week, in my search for Anne Boleyn-themed viewing material that I had not yet seen, I ended up borrowing (from our amazing local library) a BBC production of Philippa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl.  (Which is also available on YouTube here.)  Many of you are doubtless familiar with the Hollywood adaptation of this story, featuring Natalie Portman.  (I watched this again recently too, and to my surprise found that the theatrical release doesn't actually make a whole lot of sense if you aren't already familiar with the novel; this must be due to bad editing and too many deleted scenes, as the plotline--which was fine in the book--just does not hang together well.)  I have to admit, although I love Philippa Gregory, especially her books about the queens involved in the Wars of the Roses (aka "the Cousins' War"), I am not a fan of The Other Boleyn Girl.  Gregory does seem to have a distinctly pro-Catholic bias in her novels, and when writing about the Reformation, that bias translates into an anti-Anne bias.  In The Other Boleyn Girl, Mary is the good girl who compromises her purity for the sake of her family's ambition, then ends up falling in love with the king despite herself, only to be foisted from his bed by the heartless Anne, who coldly connives her way to the throne and stops just short of committing incest with her own brother in a last-ditch effort to conceive the male child that would have saved her life.  (Gregory's treatment of Anne's daughter, Elizabeth the great Protestant Queen,  in later books is not terribly flattering either.)  In historical reality, on the other hand, Mary was more of a good-time girl than a "good" girl (the King of France, one of her many conquests prior to Henry, referred to her as his "English mare,") and Anne was very likely a virgin at the time of her marriage, although on the topic of whether or not she actually loved Henry there are as many opinions as there are writers to offer them.  (The Lady herself says that she did, and does, which makes her story all the more tragic.)

Well, the school term is finally, officially over, I've submitted my last essay exam, and now I am free and clear as a bird, almost. I'm at least free and clear enough that I can catch up on some of the Odin and/or Deity questions that have accrued while i've been battling through finals the last two weeks. As I know i've noted before, I'm really enjoying the questions that are coming in. I think these are conversations we need to be having. Moreover, I"m forced to really engage with my own practice, and think and analyze what I do and how i approach my practice much more consciously and I think that's a good thing. Nothing in devotion should ever become so rote that we forget why we're doing it!

The constellation Draco (from the Greek Drakon, meaning dragon) is identified--funnily enough--with some dragons in Hellenic myth but not others. There are quite a few creatures, after all, who would qualify as a dragon in Hellenic myth. For a dragon or hydra not connected to the constellation, think of the one Kadmos vanquished, for example, or the one Apollon vanquished at Delphi, or even the dragon who guarded the Golden Fleece and was slain by Iásōn. In truth, only two dragons were associated with the myth in ancient times, most notably by Hyginus in his Astronomica: Drakon Hesperios, the Hesperian Dragon, and Drakon Gigantomakhios, the Gigantomachian Dragon.

So, I'm going to use this as an opportunity to address some misconceptions I see all the time in the online pagan community.

We'll start with Sunweaver's statement that:

Heracles was hugely popular and most Ancient Greeks would have known his story from Hesiod.

I'm pleased to announce that a friend of mine has launched a new blog for Israelis interested in Canaanite polytheism. The blog, called Canaan is Here, is written entirely in Hebrew by Israelis. 

I have updated my previous post, Know Your Middle East Religions: Ancient and Modern Polytheists, to reflect this new addition. 

Why is this important and groundbreaking? The Holy Lands were holy long before monotheism, yet many fear that fundamentalist conservative monotheist religions have obliterated the ancient ways. It's true that the situation is difficult and often dire depending on the locale for the few people who honor the ancient deities and the ancient ways. But, nonetheless, it happens.

It is mind-blowingly beautiful to know that growth, beauty, and restoration continue in our world. And there are brave, gentle souls who quietly do the heavy lifting. 

People seem to be enjoying the Odin questions that I"ve been answering here. I'm happy to keep this Q&A series going as long as folks have questions. Many of these things, while I've thought about them and internalized them, I've never actually broken down and analyzed for anyone else, so this is making me look at my experience and my practices and the way i interact with the Gods in new ways too and that's useful to praxis. 

On that note, Liza asks: 

For the men of Ireland have again followed gentlidecht as it was at first before belief, before Patrick’s advent, save only that they have not worshipped idols. For the heathen had a lie and a good word, and this existeth not today. And every evil which the heathen used to do is done at this time in the land of Ériu, save only that the Irish do not worship idols. Howbeit they perpetrate wounding and theft and adultery and parricides and manslaughter, and the wrecking of churches and clerics, covetousness and perjury and lies and false judgment, and destruction of God’s church, draidecht, and gentlidecht, and dealing in charms, philters and enchantments and fidlanna.

—“Adomnán’s Second Vision” (c. 1096 CE), §15-16

The text above is from Whitley Stokes’ edition and translation of “Adomnán’s Second Vision,” which was published in 1891; few scholars, let alone everyday Pagans or polytheists, have paid much attention to it since then. Many modern Celtic Reconstructionist groups have been founded, and have created Irish and other Celtic neologisms as names for their polytheistic practices; but here is a thoroughly medieval Irish word for what the Christians understood to be the Paganism of ancient and medieval Ireland, still going strong (if their reports in this 11^th-century text are to be given credence) after centuries of post-Patrician conversion: Gentlidecht. Stokes translates the word as, rather amusingly from a modern Pagan perspective, “heathenism” or “heathenry”…if only the Ásatrúars knew!

Some of the best epics are not told in a single story, so therefor, I will kick off a mini series today: the labours of Hēraklēs. Hēraklēs (Ἡρακλῆς), from 'Hera' and kleos, 'glory', was born as Alkaios (Ἀλκαῖος) or Alkeidēs (Ἀλκείδης). He became on of the greatest of the divine heroes in Hellenic mythology, and was born the son of Zeus and Alkmene (Ἀλκμήνη), foster son of Amphitryon (Ἀμφιτρύων), king of Tiryns in Argolis. By Alkmene, he is the great-grandson of Perseus, and by Zeus, his half-brother. He is perhaps better known as Hercules, his Roman counterpart. In this first part, I will introduce Hēraklēs and describe his life up until the labours, and then tackle the labours one at a time in coming editions.

Hēraklēs was conceived by Zeus upon Alkmene, as He disguised Himself as her husband, returning early from war. Alkmene accepted Him in her bed gladly, as she was happy to see her husband again. When The real Amphitryon did return later that night, Alkmene realized what had happened, and told her husband. Amphitryon accepted her in his bed, regardless, and so she became pregnant with twins, one fathered by Zeus, and one by her mortal husband. In the words of Apollodorus:

I've been reading a book about Dionysos that Dver picked up for me on her recent trip to the British Isles. I really wanted to like this book (I was even willing to ignore the fact that I found a minimum of three errors on every page I flipped to initially, some of them quite significant) because, hey, it's a book about Dionysos and I'm rather partial to the subject matter, in case you haven't noticed. Plus you never know what's going to introduce somebody to the god. I know a pretty devout mainad who discovered Dionysos through that episode of Xena: Warrior Princess where he's apparently doing Darkness from Legend cosplay. Seriously. It saddens me to say that this book is only marginally more accurate in its portrayal of the god. And the writing - oh so bad. So very, very bad. It deserves the Takei treatment, it's that bad. And the ideas are even worse.

For instance that being a Dionysian is all about living the rock and roll lifestyle 24/7. Woohoo! Several times I had to reassure myself that I wasn't reading a screed dashed off by Tommy Lee whilst on a coke-and-strippers binge. Except that I suspect Tommy can be a bit more eloquent than our author, even when typing the way he pilots boats.

Now look, I'm no prude. If you want me to prove it I'll compose a 10,000 line epic poem (in proper dactylic hexameter, no less) on the gargantuan size and heroic deeds of my penis. Hell, I may even write that thing anyway ...

O Nanna, Suen, moon gods of
The once-great Sumer, you yet glow
Enflaming the dry seas we call
The desert. Your ephemeral,
Untouchable hands caress dust.
In deepest silence you will make
A mirror image staring back.
Each grain of sand: a star that sweeps
Across the desolation vast.