I wanted to write an article concerning panentheism. Prior to reading Christine Hoff
Kraemer’s book Seeking the Mystery: An
Introduction to Pagan Theologies, I wasn’t familiar with the term. She defines it thusly: “Panentheists
believe that deity is present throughout the material world, but see deity as
more than just the world itself (‘God/dess is in all things, and all things are
in God/dess’).” This definition—if
it can be called that—of deity struck a chord in me. In my prior entry, I mentioned the immanence and
transcendence of the Christian God.
The difference between immanence/transcendence versus panentheism is
what ultimately led me away from Christianity. Let me explain.
For the pagan panentheist, deity is actually, wholly present
in the material world. The herbs
in your garden are deity. Your
house cat is deity. Even the brook
running behind your house is deity.
However, deity also exists beyond the material world that humans can
grasp. In that way, deity is also
transcendent. Deity is everywhere
around us, but also “above” us, so to speak. For Christians, this is blasphemy—or at least, a great
misunderstanding of God according to their theology.
Rather than identifying God/deity with their external
surroundings, Christians label the material world around them as
“Creation.” God created the
plants, animals, and landscape that humans interact with daily. Even more, according to at least one of
the Christian creation stories, humans—specifically Adam—are given dominion
over the material world. Already
there is a hierarchy established: God is on the top, then humans (or angels,
depending on how detailed one wishes to become), animals, plants, and
non-living matter. Humans are seen
as stewards of the Earth. God
entrusted Adam and Eve with the Garden, and hence everything in it.
This has led to two distinct outcomes in the Christian
world. One is to acknowledge the
great responsibility that the Christian God has placed on humanity. Because their god trusted them with the
world’s upkeep, it must therefore be important enough to care for. These Christians usually describe
themselves as good stewards, and there are many groups that campaign for green
energy laws and take time out of their day to aid the environment.
Then there is the other branch: the Christians who have
decided to ignore their god’s call to be good stewards and focus rather on
getting as much as they can from the environment—literally exploiting the
landscape—because they view the Second Coming as imminent and they don’t plan
to be here that long. If Christ is
coming today, what need is there to care about tomorrow? It is this attitude that has led to the
environmental crises we see today.
I, personally, interact with nature in such a way that it is
hard for me to believe that I ever thought it to be on a lower plane of
existence than myself. The feeling
I get from standing underneath a large, shady tree is a feeling of smallness—of
insignificance. This is because I
understand the tree to be one with the Goddess, but not entirely the same. I suppose that makes me something of a
monist, and I am not one to eschew that label. In short, I wanted to explain what led to the break between
me and the Church, and this is one of them.
