God's Gift, or God's Wisdom?

God’s Gift, or God’s Wisdom?

           In which I try to explain, borrowing a Christian perspective, the social concepts of sharing God's gift, or honoring God's wisdom 

            I live in North Carolina. The prevalent religious atmosphere can be somewhat conservative; concepts like recycling and environmental concerns, things that many pagans take for granted, are generally ignored. Or worse. I tried to explain this to a friend during a telephone conversation. Our conversation had drifted around to, as it often does, religious awareness in different parts of the country, and differences between pagans and mainstream religions.

            “When I was in Colorado,” I told her, “I was waiting at the bus stop one evening on the way home. A man next to me had just unwrapped his hamburger. His bag shifted on his arm, making him slip and drop the wrapper, and the top half of the bun, onto the ground. I watched as he picked up the bun and blow on it. Then he held the bun up, look upward to the sky, and whisper something. A prayer, obviously, something like, “Please God, wipe any germs from my bun so I don’t get sick, thanks.” Then he rebuilt his burger and ate it in about four bites before the bus came.

            ‘“What about the wrapper?” I asked him. He glanced at me as if he hadn’t noticed I was there before, and his eyes slid to the wrapper lying under the bus stop bench, and back to me. He shrugged and gave it a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s littering, man,” I said. I didn’t mention the crumpled newspaper lying on the bench, or the trash can overflowing with papers and bottles of various kinds. But the hamburger wrapper, that was his trash, a piece he’d just now thrown away. It suddenly became important to me to make this a point, I don’t know why, and I spoke to him as if I were a member of the Christian faith as well.

            ‘“If you’re going to ask God to clean your hamburger bun for you, the least you can do is clean your part of what he made for you. This world is his gift to you. Leaving your trash on the ground, that’s like disrespecting what your Father made for you, you know?”’

            This made an impression, and he picked the wrapper up and left it lying precariously on top of the pile of trash on the garbage can. When the bus arrived and we all got on, I saw the exhaust from the bus blow it off again, but left it at that.

            “I think that’s cool, what you did,” my friend said, “I wish more people would act like that.”

            “I’ve done something like that a couple of times,” I said, “usually adopting a Christian perspective. I call it giving somebody a ‘Jesus Kiss’. It’s like a wake-up call to them to be more spiritually aware of what they’re doing. You know, wheel of life, the interconnectedness of the web, all of that. Pagans, I’m happy to say, are often already more aware of their actions than that.” She made a consenting sound like a happy grunt.

            “So what’s North Carolina like, then?” she asked, “the same kind of vibe?”

            “I wish I could say it was. There’s a lot of good people here, but, well… you know the general notion a lot of conservatives have, that hippies are just no-good bums?”

            “…yeah?” she said carefully.

            “Well amplify that notion about a gazillion percent. Not only are hippies no-good bums, but anyone outside the conservative mainstream, if that is what they are, is suspect, and the ideals that such people would endorse are equally suspicious.”

            “What, like recycling? Taking care of the environment? Like that?”

            “Um, yeah, like that. But even moreso. There are people down here who think that recycling is against Christ.”

            There was a pause, and over the phone I heard the backs of her eyeballs constrict.

            “What?” she said slowly, “say that again.”

            “Some people think that to recycle, to put something back into the system to be used again, is against God’s plan. It’s evil.”

            “How in the hell can they justify that?” she demanded.

            “Okay, lemme try to explain, from their point of view.” I paused, thinking. “First, a little backstory. I used to work at a big banquet hotel in Maryland.”

            “Umm..”

            “Don’t worry, this connects. Stick with me.”

            “Okay…”

            “So at the banquet hotel, the Head Chef rules the kitchen with an iron… spatula. He makes the final decisions on everything, and what he says, goes. If a dinner banquet needs, say, two hundred chicken dijon, then they cook two hundred chicken dijon. Not a hundred and ninety nine, not two hundred and one. The Head Chef is never wrong. If, of course, five extra people show up at the banquet and they have to cook five more, they bend over backwards to justify what the Head Chef had said. He knows exactly how much is needed, and nobody questions it.”

            “Okay,” my friend said. I think she saw where this was going.

            “So there are Christians down here who believe that when God made the world, he knew EXACTLY how much of everything would ever be needed, and he set it up that way. So if we recycle, if we try to extend the use of something, we are as much as saying that God got his figures wrong. We are implying that we have to HELP God manage the world, that we think he might need help to get his figures right.

            “And to hint that God might have gotten something wrong, is as bad as blasphemy. Because God is always right, about everything. End of.”

            “So… but….” Her mind was scrambling to keep up.

            “So. Recycling is bad because it questions God’s wisdom. Taking care of the environment is bad because we’re assuming God wants us to extend the life of the planet. God has a plan, remember, and our job is to follow it. Not try to change it, not try to extend it, just follow it.”

            “But what if recycling IS part of God’s plan?” she asked.

            “Now now, that’s putting words in God’s mouth,” I said, “if we were supposed to recycle, it would have been mentioned in the Bible.”

            “So….. my brain hurts,” she said after a short pause.

            “So the guy in Colorado, with the hamburger wrapper? He understood about taking care of God’s gift. But down here, it’s more important to respect  - unquestioningly - God’s wisdom, even if it means risking one’s health.”

            “And that’s life in the conservative Bible Belt?” she asked.

            “Pretty much, yeah,” I said.

            “Oy veh.” Which sounded funny coming from a pagan Jamaican woman living in Canada.   

Why not Jesus too?

(author's note: this was originally presented on Witchvox, posted on August 24th, 2008.)

            Introduction: A little while ago, I wrote an article criticizing Wicca for using deities out of context, wherein just taking the name and a few base details was deemed sufficient. This started a conversation where we discussed the pros and cons of incorporating ALL the aspects - and baggage - of a deity's worship or influence. Specifically, Jesus Christ.
            In this article, it could be argued that I am contradicting that article and that taking the deity out of context IS allowed. My feeling is that knowing as much as possible about a deity is good, but letting dogma and doctrine get in the way of magick is bad.
            The events recounted in this article are loosely extrapolated from an actual occurrence, fleshed out for the sake of clarity and artistic license.

--------------------------------

            Jenny, a friend of the Coven, sat down with us to ask a favor.
            “My husband’s very sick – I’d love for you guys to raise some magick healing for him. I know he’d appreciate it.”
            We Coveners looked at each other over mugs of herbal tea, and nodded wisely to one another.
            “Of course we’ll help, ” I said, “when would you like us to do this?”
            “Oh, next full moon, I guess – that is the best time for healing magick, right?” she said.
            “That, or the waxing moon, when it’s going from new to full, ” Moonwood volunteered. “When the moon is growing, that’s when you do positive stuff.” Moonwood was new to the Craft and to the Coven, and I gave her a smile and a thumbs-up across the room.
            “He has leukemia, they just found out, ” Jenny said, “and he doesn’t have health insurance. It’s hit us all real hard.”
            Among appreciative sounds of sympathy, Lady Manatee asked if anyone know any goddesses who would work specifically with leukemia or blood-borne illnesses.
            “Well there’s Isis, of course, ” Moonwood said.
            “Asclepius, Greek God – demi-god - of healing, ” Dragonwalker suggested.
            “Or his daughter, Hygeia, ” I said.
            “Maybe Brigit?” Lady Manatee asked.
            “Oh, no, sorry, I should have told you, ” Jenny said, “Mike’s Christian. He wants you guys to do a healing for him, but he wants you to use Jesus for the God, and Mary for the Goddess.”
            You could have heard a cricket chirp three houses away.
            “Um – hello? Pagan?” Moonwood said, “Not Christian?”
            “Well, that’s not to say we couldn’t, ” Hummingbird said slowly, “but do you think Jesus would WANT to be called into circle by a bunch of Witches? Exodus 22:18 and all that?”
            “Guys, we’ve been debating that ‘All Gods are One God’ thing for a while – here’s a good test!” I looked around the Coven, and waited for someone to challenge it.
            “I dunno, ” Moonwood said, “I think it would feel weird, invoking Jesus Christ into circle.”
            “Is Jesus a bad god for Witches?” Jenny asked. She was clearly confused.
            “Let’s just say that a lot of people in Wicca came from Christian backgrounds, and left with bad experiences. Invoking Jesus would be like, letting your abusive ex-stepfather back into the house after so many years.”
            “Wow, I didn’t know that, ” she said, “I figured you guys would be cool with the idea – with Jesus being like a rebel and a hippie and all that.”
            “Hmm, interesting point – are we opposed to Christianity because of its history? Dogma? Philosophy? Because of the Burning Times? What would—“ I smiled at myself for saying these words – “what would Jesus do?”
            “Jesus, the healer, ” Hummingbird said, catching on, “would have looked past the politics, and seen a sick guy who needs us. He’d have grabbed the incense and cast a damn circle, and joined in on us helping Mike get well!”
            “Indeed, ” Dragonwalker said, “Why not Jesus?”
            “I’m still not sure, ” Moonwood said slowly, “Christianity still feels icky to me…”
            As followers of a polytheistic faith, is there any reason we should regard some gods as ‘off-limits’? If all gods are indeed one god, then all aspects of divinity are facets of the Divine Mystery – so Jesus is as sacred a deity as Aphrodite, or Osiris. Granted, the viewpoints of some aspects may seem cross-purposes to Wicca - I would rather refrain from invoking the wrathful Old-Testament Jehovah, for example, or Cthulhu; but all gods, regardless of pantheon or paradigm, can be regarded as part of the Divine Mystery.
            So, indeed, why not Jesus, too?

            Well, folks, a week and a half later, we did cast that healing circle for Mike. Moonwood opted not to participate, and we understood, but everyone else was there – including Jenny.
            We had a picture of Mike on the altar, and a small resin statue of the Risen Christ. We’d decided to use that instead of a crucifix – we agreed that the crucifix represented sacrifice, whereas the Risen Christ represented success and transformation. I wanted a Buddy Christ, from the Kevin Smith movie ‘Dogma’, but we couldn’t find one. Jenny brought a small statue of Mary, standing on a globe crushing a snake. We didn’t like the snake imagery very much – same reason we don’t celebrate St Patrick’s Day – but we let it go.
            Everyone filed into circle, we cleansed and consecrated, invoked the elements, and I held aloft my athame.
            “Hail, Jesus Christ! God of healing, god of forgiveness, god of the poorest of the poor! We seek your aid in the healing of one of your own. Join us in our circle of magick, oh Lord. Hail, and Welcome!”
            “Hail, Mary, full of Grace, ” Hummingbird said, “Goddess of mercy, mother of the sacrificed king, join us in our rite. We have a man seeking your aid and tender mercies. Hail, Mary, and Welcome!”

            When preparing his invocation, I'd put some thought into what Jesus, the man, would have been known for. Healing the blind, the lepers, walking among the common man, all that. I think that if you take Jesus the Christ out of the context of Christian politics and propaganda, he’s really not such a bad guy. It’s his followers, people speaking on his behalf – or assuming to – that have given Christianity such a bad rap. Constantine and his mother, for starters. Torquemada. Fred Phelps. But Jesus?
            Yeah, invoking him did feel a bit weird at first, but if you think about it for a bit, Jesus, as he was then, is one of us, really. Part of an underground – and misunderstood – religion, trying to make good. A rebel, a hippie. Lose the Christian doctrine; that was written centuries later. Think of him in terms of his mythological origins, of the archetype of the sacrificed king. Jesus the Christ is part of that myth-cycle, and as much a qualified deity as Mithras or Osiris.
            And maybe those Witches, like Moonwood, who are still suffering from the psychological damage of bad experiences with Christianity, could benefit from working with Jesus as an individual deity, without all the baggage of Christian dogma and doctrine.

"Yeah.... and?"

People occasionally ask me, where do I see witchcraft in ten years. Twenty. A hundred?  

            I could ramble on for a bit debating the logistics of where and how different facets of faith might mutate and grow – how will covens change? Will there even BE covens? How will our perceptions of divinity change? What effect will social networking have on spiritual dynamics? etc etc etc.  Well, religions and our approach to faith, divinity, worship and magick are always changing, every single day. That aspect of what we do is a constantly evolving and adaptive creature, and I am always amazed and delighted to see it grow, but that’s a blog for another day.

   

            Because beyond our personal magicks and spiritual development, which gods we worship, we have to consider how witches and witchcraft will fit in the cultural landscape tomorrow, or in ten years, or twenty. Whether we have to hide our belief, defend our right to religious freedom, worry about how families, neighbors, bosses, etc, will react if they find out – these are aspects of our life that cannot help but have an impact on how we address our belief and how we present ourselves to the outside world.

            So, my ultimate vision regarding where witchcraft stands in the social forum is…

            Apathy.

            I want people to not give a crap less what religion I am.

            I want people to be as unimpressed to learn that I’m a witch as they might be to learn that I’m left handed, or that I like 80’s music, or that I have no problem with it if they are gay or not. It really should not be a big deal.

   

            Neighbor A: “Hey, your daughter goes to the same school as my son Jason. You heard they have a new teacher? Did you know that she’s …. a witch?!”

            Neighbor B: “Yeah, and….?”

           

            “Yeah, and….?” is a great response! ‘Yes, I know what she believes. No, I don’t necessarily believe the same thing, but that’s not a big deal either. I don’t have a problem with whatever she chooses to believe. She’s qualified to teach my children about math, or art, or history, that’s what matters.’

            There are, of course, different aspects to apathy. I think of the example here as ‘benevolent apathy’. This is not the same as ‘dismissive apathy’ (“Hey, that guy just fell off his motorcycle, his leg is broken in three places!” “Yeah…. and?”)

           When people reach the point that whether that thing you wear around your neck looks like two sticks at 90 degrees, with the lowest segment longer than the other three, or if it looks like 5 lines in a circle, intersecting at 72 degrees, or if it looks like a T with a lump at the top, really doesn't make a freaking difference, that would be delightful! Oh, having them know what they all mean would be nice, but imagine not having to be judged by someone else for wearing a ‘wrong’ symbol. No symbol should be judged as appropriate or inappropriate, except by the person wearing it.

            When you cut past all the drama and the name-calling and the misguided assumptions, the ultimate realization of someone else’s faith is that it’s just that – someone else’s faith. Something you really shouldn’t have to worry about.

            To be honest, we still have a long way to go to see this goal of mine come to fruition. It might not happen in my lifetime. But eventually, someday, someone with learn that someone else is a witch and will simply shrug and say, 

              “Yeah….and?”