This is really apropos of nothing but I came up with this fun metaphor, and I wanted to write it down so I don't forget it.
See, religions are like drinks. You've got your Christian martinis, all basically the same just with a few different ingredients or proportions. You've got your gin in the west and your vodka in the east. Maybe Protestantism is all gimlets, I don't know. And then you've got your Islamic manhattans, and Buddhist white russians, and so on.
(These aren't intended to be exact correlations, they're used to illustrate.)
The point is that every religion is a mix of the same basic ingredients, and it's up to each person to find the drink that they like best. And it's okay for one person to prefer a vodka martini to a mudslide, because in the end you get just as drunk.
To extend the metaphor slightly, that makes priests into bartenders. Granted, some bartenders only know how to make a thousand different martinis, but the best are able to mix up just about anything, thereby to help the drinker find something that really satisfies.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Three Errors
The Common Order of Worship for the Reform begins with the following. Paraphrased, because I can't be arsed to find and Ctrl-V the original text.
I like this. Always have. Granted, I've always had a weakness for Biblical pomp, which the early works of the Reform have in spades, but I think there's something to the idea of making a statement of belief through confessing these errors.
The trouble is, I'm not sure they fit. I mean, sure, okay, on the surface they're all fine. A case could be made against there being no need for prayer and sacrifice, depending on your specific view of the divine; but in general, they're applicable.
My problem with them is, they don't say enough.
My own personal theology is presently in development. The things I "know" for sure are that the gods, little-g, the Aesir and Vanir and Tuatha de Danann and the Greek gods and the Egyptian gods and the Mesoamerican gods are all distinct from the Creator-God. It is my belief that they serve the function assigned to the aeons in Gnostic theology -- spiritual teachers and guides, keystones of divine knowledge. Though myths exist in which they play a prominent part in the creation and/or shaping of the world, I think these are teaching-myths, not truth.
Where my thinking diverges from that of the Gnostics is in assigning separation to the Infinite-God and Creator-God. Or, perhaps it would be better said that I do not believe the Creator-God to be lesser, or evil. While it is true that the world is full of suffering, it is necessary to suffer in order to grow -- and the existence of the world must be a goodness, because with no world there would be no grokking.
But God is remote. In that sense I am a Deist -- I do not believe the Creator interferes with the Cosmos because to do so would be to subvert its very purpose. Prayers and sacrifices to God are not only unnecessary, they are also futile. God simply cannot be reached; a mortal simply cannot fully understand the infinite.
However, prayers and sacrifices to the aeons are not futile, nor are they unnecessary. The act of making prayers and sacrifices, the act of giving gifts to the gods and Kindreds, is what opens the way between us and them. So in that sense, the gifts are needful.
In addition, I think there is utility in offering prayers to the One. It is to the One that we are referring when we say, "thou art God" -- the statement is a recognition of the individual's intellect, will, and agency; the parts of us that are Godly. Offering prayers to the One makes us mindful of the divine, and more aware of the divine within ourselves and the need to submit to its will.
So what would the "three errors" be? Lately I've been using the following:
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?
O God, forgive us these three errors made due to our human limitations: that thou art everywhere, but we worship you here; that thou are without face and form, yet we give you both; that thou hast no need of prayers and sacrifices, but we offer them anyway.
I like this. Always have. Granted, I've always had a weakness for Biblical pomp, which the early works of the Reform have in spades, but I think there's something to the idea of making a statement of belief through confessing these errors.
The trouble is, I'm not sure they fit. I mean, sure, okay, on the surface they're all fine. A case could be made against there being no need for prayer and sacrifice, depending on your specific view of the divine; but in general, they're applicable.
My problem with them is, they don't say enough.
My own personal theology is presently in development. The things I "know" for sure are that the gods, little-g, the Aesir and Vanir and Tuatha de Danann and the Greek gods and the Egyptian gods and the Mesoamerican gods are all distinct from the Creator-God. It is my belief that they serve the function assigned to the aeons in Gnostic theology -- spiritual teachers and guides, keystones of divine knowledge. Though myths exist in which they play a prominent part in the creation and/or shaping of the world, I think these are teaching-myths, not truth.
Where my thinking diverges from that of the Gnostics is in assigning separation to the Infinite-God and Creator-God. Or, perhaps it would be better said that I do not believe the Creator-God to be lesser, or evil. While it is true that the world is full of suffering, it is necessary to suffer in order to grow -- and the existence of the world must be a goodness, because with no world there would be no grokking.
But God is remote. In that sense I am a Deist -- I do not believe the Creator interferes with the Cosmos because to do so would be to subvert its very purpose. Prayers and sacrifices to God are not only unnecessary, they are also futile. God simply cannot be reached; a mortal simply cannot fully understand the infinite.
However, prayers and sacrifices to the aeons are not futile, nor are they unnecessary. The act of making prayers and sacrifices, the act of giving gifts to the gods and Kindreds, is what opens the way between us and them. So in that sense, the gifts are needful.
In addition, I think there is utility in offering prayers to the One. It is to the One that we are referring when we say, "thou art God" -- the statement is a recognition of the individual's intellect, will, and agency; the parts of us that are Godly. Offering prayers to the One makes us mindful of the divine, and more aware of the divine within ourselves and the need to submit to its will.
So what would the "three errors" be? Lately I've been using the following:
That thou art everywhere, yet I praise and cherish you here;That thou sitest at the summit that cannot be reached, yet I seek to climb;That thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God; yet from thee I stand apart.
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?
Sunday, January 19, 2014
On the notion of Divine equality
One of the things I believe more than any other is "thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God." This is a truism and I cannot imagine it being any other way. All that groks is God. Meeting another grokking being is meeting God and meeting yourself. There are manifold implications and consequences of this Truth but the one I'm most interested in right now is the idea of equality.
On the surface, it seems that if two things are the same then they must be equal. Or, perhaps, "equals." Infinity is infinity, right? And given the assertion that I am God, then the kindreds are also God, collectively and individually. Since we are all God, how can it be that I worship them?
It's a question of right behavior. A host might defer to his guest and, in turn, be deferred to. Two friends, social equals, who are out drinking together might mistreat one another in affectionately horrific ways. A father cherishes his daughter, viewing her as "higher" than himself and yet still requiring her obedience.
Equality is a power play, and even in infinities there is hierarchy. y = x grows to infinity, but y = x2 grows to infinity faster; it is a higher-order infinity. We are God, and so are the gods; but the gods are better at being God than we are.
It is correct to defer to the gods during workings because they are our guests. But it is also correct to defer to them because they are "first among equals." It may not be that their worth is greater than ours, or their potential; but their realization of that potential outstrips us in every way.
Thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God. But just as one infinity can be greater than another, one can grok more completely than another. This being true, failure to recognize it is dishonest. It is hubris, which is itself a failure to recognize things as they are.
The gods might appreciate spunk and self-reliance, but when a line into dishonesty is crossed, somehow I think their amusement quickly palls.
On the surface, it seems that if two things are the same then they must be equal. Or, perhaps, "equals." Infinity is infinity, right? And given the assertion that I am God, then the kindreds are also God, collectively and individually. Since we are all God, how can it be that I worship them?
It's a question of right behavior. A host might defer to his guest and, in turn, be deferred to. Two friends, social equals, who are out drinking together might mistreat one another in affectionately horrific ways. A father cherishes his daughter, viewing her as "higher" than himself and yet still requiring her obedience.
Equality is a power play, and even in infinities there is hierarchy. y = x grows to infinity, but y = x
It is correct to defer to the gods during workings because they are our guests. But it is also correct to defer to them because they are "first among equals." It may not be that their worth is greater than ours, or their potential; but their realization of that potential outstrips us in every way.
Thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God. But just as one infinity can be greater than another, one can grok more completely than another. This being true, failure to recognize it is dishonest. It is hubris, which is itself a failure to recognize things as they are.
The gods might appreciate spunk and self-reliance, but when a line into dishonesty is crossed, somehow I think their amusement quickly palls.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
On personal relationships
Two days in a row, huh.
I follow a number of Asatru groups on Facebook. I don't spend too much time reading through the conversations, which I guess kind of defeats the purpose of following the groups, but anyway. I did happen to catch something worthy of thought.
This poster made the claim that, to our ancestors, the idea of having a "personal relationship" with the deities was preposterous. Odin was busy worrying about Ragnarok, Thor was busy fighting jotnar, etc. They didn't have the time or attention to spend answering prayers or developing "relationships." In ritual, the gods were acknowledged, but they paid no more attention to their worshipers than a king pays to a peasant.
There is an amusingly Deistic flavor to this idea -- that the Godhead is remote from mankind. Still, I'm not sure I buy into it. I mean I don't know one way or the other how the ancestors felt but I'm not sure I buy into a Deistic idea of polytheism.
The poster went on to claim that it was the Ancestors to whom most prayer and devotion was offered, and it was the Ancestors who would provide aid. Interestingly Confucian, and logical in that the Ancestors, of the three Kindreds, would have the most vested interest in aiding the living, what with the whole bloodline and lineage and so forth.
On the other hand, not to be impertinent but genuinely asking -- Ancestors are nothing more than dead humans, therefore why should they have any power to bless or assist? I can think of a number of potential answers but further reflection is needed.
There was also the claim made that solitary Asatru is an oxymoron -- that the faith of the Old Ones is inherently communal. See above re: the absurdity of personal relationships. I don't know where I sit on this one either.
Many things to think about.
I follow a number of Asatru groups on Facebook. I don't spend too much time reading through the conversations, which I guess kind of defeats the purpose of following the groups, but anyway. I did happen to catch something worthy of thought.
This poster made the claim that, to our ancestors, the idea of having a "personal relationship" with the deities was preposterous. Odin was busy worrying about Ragnarok, Thor was busy fighting jotnar, etc. They didn't have the time or attention to spend answering prayers or developing "relationships." In ritual, the gods were acknowledged, but they paid no more attention to their worshipers than a king pays to a peasant.
There is an amusingly Deistic flavor to this idea -- that the Godhead is remote from mankind. Still, I'm not sure I buy into it. I mean I don't know one way or the other how the ancestors felt but I'm not sure I buy into a Deistic idea of polytheism.
The poster went on to claim that it was the Ancestors to whom most prayer and devotion was offered, and it was the Ancestors who would provide aid. Interestingly Confucian, and logical in that the Ancestors, of the three Kindreds, would have the most vested interest in aiding the living, what with the whole bloodline and lineage and so forth.
On the other hand, not to be impertinent but genuinely asking -- Ancestors are nothing more than dead humans, therefore why should they have any power to bless or assist? I can think of a number of potential answers but further reflection is needed.
There was also the claim made that solitary Asatru is an oxymoron -- that the faith of the Old Ones is inherently communal. See above re: the absurdity of personal relationships. I don't know where I sit on this one either.
Many things to think about.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
The First Two Weeks
So I'm two weeks into the Dedicant's Program, it having been the first of my "resolutions" at the new year to make an honest effort at it. I've managed to remember to do evening and usually morning devotionals each day, mostly thanks to setting a reminder alarm. Granted, they've been extremely freeform and have in general involved little-to-no meditation, but at this stage it's the habit I'm trying to instill. Leaving the particulars for later. Next month, perhaps.
Also took the opportunity to give Stranger in a Strange Land its annual reread. And it depressed me. But I don't want to talk about that just yet.
I'm struggling. Struggling to make some sense of it all, to bring some order to my thoughts and beliefs. See, I identify as a "Heathen Druid," with a bit of Gnosticism thrown in. And whatever the "Thou art God" would be considered. Apotheo-humanist? Is there even a word for it? Pantheism, the God-in-all-things?
There is tension between the "Thou art God" belief and the belief in the literal reality of the Aesir and Vanir. Let alone the other Kindreds. It overwhelms, a bit -- I know so few of their names, I know nothing of the nature of the land-wights particularly given my circumstances, and offering reverence and worship to dead people when I did not do so while they were alive ... ugh, so much confusion.
I've thought of myself as a Druid for over a decade now, closing in all-too-rapidly on two. I've only recently come to fully embrace the "Heathen" label, but it's been a part of things for most of that time. I was told, long ago, that I belong to the "old man," and I've never really doubted that. (Perhaps "belong" wasn't the word used, I don't recall with perfect clarity.) And yet for all that time, nearly twenty years, I've done very little study and even less work.
So I come into this with an odd perspective and many years of bad habits. Many years of treating this like a Christian faith, praying and praying without ceremony, without offering. Many years of thinking I knew what was going on all the while learning new dribs and drabs here and there that sometimes radically changed my perspective. Many years of "experience" with almost no practical knowledge. And yet I'm not jumping in with the zeal of a newcomer because in so many ways the ideas are old and comfortable to me.
"I've been doing this forever, I don't have all that much to learn." Which isn't true even for the ancients. Profound arrogance, the arrogance of the weekend warrior Christian. Something that must be discarded.
That's really why I began again. Why I'm trying not to hurry along, burn myself out, lose interest. Trying to start small and build in increments so I have a solid foundation this time around.
Trouble is, I'm not sure it's working.
I keep spinning around between Heathen polytheism, Neo-Druidic RDNA Earth-mother pantheism, and the teachings of Stranger. I want to learn from the gods and uncover the deep teachings and knowledge while at the same time feeling a profound urge to prostrate myself before the Infinite-God and submit to His will.
There's a simplicity to monotheism that is appealing to me. I'm not good at making friends at the best of times and the idea of tailoring a ritual to dozens of beings individually and by name is exhausting. As above, so below: I am much happier addressing a faceless crowd or enjoying the company of a few close friends than I am schmoozing at a huge party.
And perhaps therein lies the answer. Perhaps I should work on my relationship with one or two of the faces of God at once. Expand the circle over time instead of trying to draw it around everyone at once.
Reading Stranger threw everything into a bit of upheaval. The theology presented within resonates with me more strongly than anything else ever has. Reading through it I am continuously assailed with the "finally, someone understands!" thoughts, which is of course why I keep coming back to it, year after year.
And yet I can't countenance any religious observance that doesn't include Odin in some way. Though I have not pledged to him nor has he accepted me, I cannot but think of myself as an "Odinsman." Bit of a sine qua non I suppose.
I used to feel close with the Earth Mother but that's been gone a while. I think I might strive to get that back.
And then come the other thoughts. I am God, and thou art God, and together we are God. All things that grok are God, for God is He who groks. I am but an egg, this is true, but so is the Earth -- an egg that nurtures and shelters us, but one day we must be strong enough to break free...
It is, in a way, a tripartate spirituality. That actually has a kind of tidiness. I think I'll run with it.
Also took the opportunity to give Stranger in a Strange Land its annual reread. And it depressed me. But I don't want to talk about that just yet.
I'm struggling. Struggling to make some sense of it all, to bring some order to my thoughts and beliefs. See, I identify as a "Heathen Druid," with a bit of Gnosticism thrown in. And whatever the "Thou art God" would be considered. Apotheo-humanist? Is there even a word for it? Pantheism, the God-in-all-things?
There is tension between the "Thou art God" belief and the belief in the literal reality of the Aesir and Vanir. Let alone the other Kindreds. It overwhelms, a bit -- I know so few of their names, I know nothing of the nature of the land-wights particularly given my circumstances, and offering reverence and worship to dead people when I did not do so while they were alive ... ugh, so much confusion.
I've thought of myself as a Druid for over a decade now, closing in all-too-rapidly on two. I've only recently come to fully embrace the "Heathen" label, but it's been a part of things for most of that time. I was told, long ago, that I belong to the "old man," and I've never really doubted that. (Perhaps "belong" wasn't the word used, I don't recall with perfect clarity.) And yet for all that time, nearly twenty years, I've done very little study and even less work.
So I come into this with an odd perspective and many years of bad habits. Many years of treating this like a Christian faith, praying and praying without ceremony, without offering. Many years of thinking I knew what was going on all the while learning new dribs and drabs here and there that sometimes radically changed my perspective. Many years of "experience" with almost no practical knowledge. And yet I'm not jumping in with the zeal of a newcomer because in so many ways the ideas are old and comfortable to me.
"I've been doing this forever, I don't have all that much to learn." Which isn't true even for the ancients. Profound arrogance, the arrogance of the weekend warrior Christian. Something that must be discarded.
That's really why I began again. Why I'm trying not to hurry along, burn myself out, lose interest. Trying to start small and build in increments so I have a solid foundation this time around.
Trouble is, I'm not sure it's working.
I keep spinning around between Heathen polytheism, Neo-Druidic RDNA Earth-mother pantheism, and the teachings of Stranger. I want to learn from the gods and uncover the deep teachings and knowledge while at the same time feeling a profound urge to prostrate myself before the Infinite-God and submit to His will.
There's a simplicity to monotheism that is appealing to me. I'm not good at making friends at the best of times and the idea of tailoring a ritual to dozens of beings individually and by name is exhausting. As above, so below: I am much happier addressing a faceless crowd or enjoying the company of a few close friends than I am schmoozing at a huge party.
And perhaps therein lies the answer. Perhaps I should work on my relationship with one or two of the faces of God at once. Expand the circle over time instead of trying to draw it around everyone at once.
Reading Stranger threw everything into a bit of upheaval. The theology presented within resonates with me more strongly than anything else ever has. Reading through it I am continuously assailed with the "finally, someone understands!" thoughts, which is of course why I keep coming back to it, year after year.
And yet I can't countenance any religious observance that doesn't include Odin in some way. Though I have not pledged to him nor has he accepted me, I cannot but think of myself as an "Odinsman." Bit of a sine qua non I suppose.
I used to feel close with the Earth Mother but that's been gone a while. I think I might strive to get that back.
And then come the other thoughts. I am God, and thou art God, and together we are God. All things that grok are God, for God is He who groks. I am but an egg, this is true, but so is the Earth -- an egg that nurtures and shelters us, but one day we must be strong enough to break free...
It is, in a way, a tripartate spirituality. That actually has a kind of tidiness. I think I'll run with it.
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