Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Children of the Stag
Bright Heart, Bright Mind
or
Pay No Attention to That Cross Between the Antlers
“Saint” Hubert, they call him: patron of hunters.
Check out Albrecht Durer's painting of Hubert's famous vision. What do you see? A man, kneeling to a worshipful Stag, praying.
Pay no attention to that cross between the antlers.
You know the story. Maybe you've lived it yourself.
Good Friday, when all good Christians should be in church, praying. You're not among them. You, you're out in the woods instead, hunting.
Hunting.
What do you find there? The Horned, the worshipful Stag: the Animal God, lord of all humanity.
Hubert, hyge beorht in the old Language of the Witches: “bright heart”, “bright mind.”
That crucifix between the antlers? A mere cloak to hide behind during the Hidden Times, a bringing-in of the Old Ways.
Or maybe something more: a likefulness, perhaps.
The god that dies to feed the people?
We know that story, too.
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