Panentheism versus Immanence/Transcendence

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.

Nice to Meet You

For my first entry, I thought I would look at the term "kitchen witch."  In the nine or so years I have been pagan, I have seen the title undergo a couple of changes in connotation.  It seems to have become synonymous (at least to a certain extent) with "hedgewitch," although, in my mind, "hedgewitch" denotes a level of shamanism that isn't as prevalent in the understanding of "kitchen witch."  It is possible for kitchen witches to be Wiccan, but not 100% necessary.  In my mind, kitchen witches use nature and every day tools for their altars and probably wouldn't be caught dead in a metaphysical shop.  There seems to be a trend in kitchen witchery to claim to be descendants of a long line of witches, as opposed to Wiccans, who, by definition, inherit their tradition from Gerald Gardener in the first half of the 20th century.

Although I am not descended from witches--in fact, the majority of my ancestors were Italian and Roman Catholic--I claim the title of kitchen witch.  While I can appreciate the pomp and circumstance of Wicca--the rituals, altar tools, and so on--it simply doesn't "jive" with my personality.  I lack the discipline that Wiccan rituals require.  I identify with the wild woman whose magical practice is part and parcel of her day to day life.  My spirit objects to the compartmentalization high ritual imposes on my lifestyle.  Perhaps it is my distaste for theatrics, but Wicca--although its theology speaks deeply to me--never made its way into my daily routine the way kitchen witchery did.  I tend my herb garden, I make poultices, I cook healthy (and not so healthy) natural meals, while thanking the Goddess for her blessing and bounty.  I celebrate the seasons not by casting circles, but by feasting with friends and family--even if they don't recognize the "reason for the season," as one might say.  I celebrate the Goddess by living, day to day.  That is what kitchen witchery means to me.

Of course, the premise of this blog and my related twitter account is my continuing interactions with the Catholic Church via my job at a Catholic organization and my education at a Catholic university.  How did a kitchen witch end up here?  Like anyone else, my current position in life is the result of a long series of both good and bad decisions, but I suppose I stick with it with the hope of serving as a liaison between two contentious groups.  Certainly, in the Catholic community, there are essential misunderstandings of the modern pagan movement.  Pagans, on the other hand, tend to have at least some understanding of Catholicism, gleaned from the culture at large or personal experience.  Certain specifics of Catholicism may escape them.  The funny thing is that these specifics escape most Catholics as well.  Even the nature of their god remains a mystery to them.

The Christian God is both immanent and transcendent, unchanging, existing outside of time (as humans experience it).  As Starhawk says, the Goddess IS immanence.  (See pg. 9 of Dreaming the Dark, 1982).  She not only exists in time, she is time.  The cycle of her life marks the turning points of our year--season by season, year after year.  The Christian storyline for our lives has a beginning, middle, and end.  For the witch, time is cyclical, and so are our lives.  I cannot understand the appeal of a god that is unknowable, as the Christian God is.  What does the human being gain by appealing to a being entirely outside their ken?  Catholics take comfort in the so-called "mysteries of the Church," such as transubstantiation (the Eucharist becoming the Body and Blood of Christ without changing the form/accidents of bread and wine) and the hypostatic union (Christ being both fully human and fully divine), but acknowledge that the human intellect cannot ever fully understand these truths.  There is nothing analogous in nature for these mysteries.  Perhaps that is why I take so much comfort in the phrase, "As above, so below."