Tuesday

Pagan Paths

Since starting this blog, I’ve discovered that what I call “Scientific Paganism” is akin to other spiritual paths classed under the umbrella term “non-theistic paganism,” such as Naturalistic Paganism (or Pagan Naturalism) and Atheopaganism. These are Earth-based spiritualities that eschew belief (or “faith”) in supernatural entities or occult powers that defy the generally accepted laws of physics while still finding value in ritual behavior and deep, purposeful exploration of the human spirit. The same impulses that lead people to monotheist or polytheist religions are also present in those who have rejected the very idea of the “supernatural,” i.e., beings or forces that somehow exist outside, above, or beyond the natural world or the cosmos surrounding it.

My view is that, even if cosmic-level sentient entities were proved to exist, they would still be part of the natural order of the universe, and science would expand its horizons to accommodate them. This process has already occurred, as when Albert Einstein was freaked out by the notion of “spooky action at a distance,” only for it to go on to become the respectable scientific principle of quantum entanglement. There are many things about the universe that we do not yet understand and much more to be discovered. But there’s no need to carve out a privileged space that’s exempt from rationality where “and then a miracle happened” is an acceptable explanation. So in religion, as in science, the “supernatural” is, in fact, superfluous.

Rather than wasting time arguing with intractable “true believers,” non-theistic pagans prefer to take a skeptical attitude toward all unsupportable assertions and a practical approach to ritual. They value creativity over adherence to dogma. They generally celebrate or revere the Earth itself, the existence of which does not need to be debated. In this way, they get to the heart of religion and the psychological benefits it confers without building around it an elaborate house of cards that must be defended at all costs. Whatever terms such Neo-Pagans are most comfortable describing themselves with, they share a similar approach to honoring that which gives us life and the wondrous cosmos that we all inhabit.


Friday

Samhain Intro


Samhain (the ‘mh’ makes a ‘w’ sound) is the name of a major Celtic feast that can be traced back to early medieval sources, held on November 1st. In the British Isles it marked the beginning of the winter season, though in America we find ourselves at mid-autumn at this time due to climatic differences. According to historian Ronald Hutton in his 1996 book The Stations of the Sun, Samhain was the ideal time for the year’s most important tribal assemblies: the harvest had been completed, the livestock brought in from the pastures, and the normal seasons for warfare and trading closed. Thus, royalty, warriors, and peasants alike had some extra time on their hands. As such, it was the perfect setting for numerous tales involving encounters with gods and monsters. Like Beltane, which lies at the opposite point on the Wheel of the Year, Samhain was “a particularly numinous time,” during which “fairies and witches were especially active, and magical devices required to guard against them” (pp. 365–366). In time, the medieval Christian Church overlaid this festival with its feast of the dead, which brought with it its own arcane associations. The modern Samhain, then, along with the associated celebration of Halloween, is a hybrid of these ancient Celtic and Christian traditions.

Even so, being the time of year when leaves are dropping from the trees and flowers wither, it seems appropriate that the theme of Samhain celebrations should be “Death”—not as something to be warded off or feared but acknowledged as an integral part of life’s cycles. It is a time to remember our ancestors—and all those who came before us—and to reflect on how their paths influenced ours. We can tell their stories, and honor them for what they did and what they tried to do. Likewise, we can reflect on how we hope to be remembered by those who will come after us, and thereby to remind ourselves that our lives are but one step in the spiral path of the human race and, beyond that, in the journey of our living world, the Earth. Death comes to all things, perhaps even the universe itself, and being mindful of that can help us keep life’s difficulties and disappointments in perspective. Even in the darkest quarter of the year, when the world looks as if it were dying around us, we can set aside a night to celebrate our own spiral path.