The Problem of Evangelization

Pope Benedict XVI once said, "The greatest work of charity is evangelization."  Of course, following Christian tradition, "charity" is synonymous with "love."  So, the greatest act of love that you, a human being, can give to another, is to inform them of (and hopefully recruit them to) the Christian faith and the peace and love of our lord Jesus Christ.

Ugh.

As pagans, one of the basic tenats of our faith is that we do NOT evangelize.  In fact, most pagans that I know are very much against evangelization in general, especially what I call "active evangelization" or "door-to-door evangelization" where one is accosting strangers and aquaintances with unwanted religious advances.  I have always said that the quickest way to alienate someone is to ask, "Can I talk to you about Jesus Christ?"  But that goes for any deity.

The truth is, active evangelization is inherently disrespectful, especially in a modern, western setting (but really anywhere), where most people have been exposed to one or more religious traditions.  Why?  Not only is the so-called evangelist asking if you are so oblivious to the culture around you that you haven't heard of Christianity or considered it as a religious option, but that the path you have decided to follow (or not) is inherently worse than what they are about to offer.  It ultimately comes down to "my god is better than your god," which can further be refined down to "my way of life is better than your way of life."  To see the results of such thinking, one needs only to look back through history, in which we see many long years of war, colonization, forced assimilation, and so on.

However, in our culture today, we don't really see anything quite that violent (unless you are on tumblr--in which case, you should get off tumblr).  Evangelization has become gentler.  No one is putting you in thumb screws to force you to convert.  The worst you're going to encounter in America, at least, are smartly dressed strangers knocking at your door at god-awful times of the morning.  Some might call this a more effective way of evangelizing.  People see how great your life is going, so when they ask, "How do you do it?" you can attribute all your successes to Whomever.  Or, you get someone who is down on their luck, and offer them help...with a caveat.  Some would call this gentler, but also more sinister--insidious, if you will.

Having spent most of my adult life around devout Christians, I can assure you that on a basic level, most of them do not have sinister intentions with their clumsy attempts to evangelize you.  They genuinely believe in what they are trying to foist off on you, and really do think that your life will be better with their deity in it.  They have also been taught from a very young age that evangelizing is something that they are morally obligated to do.  However, this naivete disappears the higher you go up the ladder.  The money and power of televangelists, pastors who receive a salary from their churches, and high-ranking priests (who are more politicians than holy men) are dependent on getting the little people and their wallets to join their ranks.  This is essentially how organized religions support and sustain themselves.  Think of it as a global pyramid scheme.

So, where does this leave us?  If you're a Christian, wait until someone shows signs of being receptive to your religious advances, just as if you were in a bar situation trying to pick someone up.  You don't hit on the person who is doing their best to ignore you.  Also, consider inspiring change in other people by setting a good example.  Live out the words of Christ, instead of the mandates of the Church.

If you're a pagan like me, it's really a non-issue.  Our gods don't need us to reach out to others, and some witches still espouse secrecy as part of their tradition.  In my experience, the old gods have a way of snagging the people that they want.  However, when someone becomes aggressive with you because of what you believe, or they make unwanted advances, don't respond in kind.  Don't respond at all, if it so pleases you.  If you have to say something, be firm, but polite.  You're not interested, and you'd thank them not to bring it up again.  Hate only breeds more hate.

Pagan Catechetics?

I am currently studying catechetics, which gives me a good opportunity to reflect on pagan and Wiccan religious education.  I'm sure that this audience is well aware that most elders in our community will refuse to take on students until they are at least eighteen and absolutely sure that this is the path that the student wants to follow.  I wrote an earlier post on my experience with Catholic catechesis.  (It wasn't good.)  I strongly disagree with the practice of catechizing children, especially at their parents' insistence and not on their own.

But in any case, let's talk about the difference between theology and professions of faith in religious education.  Now, in most traditionally Christian households, the catechist (be it the parent or someone in the church) usually teaches from a position of faith.  That is to say, they teach by making an example of themselves, living out the life of Christ in their own existence.  The focus is less on actual knowledge of the faith in question and more in moralizing, which is why there are so many adult Christians who have no idea what's in the Gospels or the first thing about sacramental theology, but they know prayers and how to live out the faith.

With paganism, the process is different, but similar.  Most pagans are not born that way (though perhaps this will change), but come upon it later in life.  For most, the first thing they do is educate themselves about the faith by reading.  The actual living out of the faith happens later.  Many pagans are voracious readers.  However, the content that is most readily available to new pagans is somewhat suspect.  No one can argue that, on the whole, most resources available at large, mainstream bookstores are introductory material--basically, how-to manuals on getting started: how to cast a circle, how to honor the Wheel of the Year and so on.  They are books on what Wiccans DO with perhaps a short explanation as to why.  Deeper pagan theology is a bit harder to come by and usually gleaned from a variety of different sources.  Some Wiccans and pagans simply stop after reading a book or two by Silver Ravenwolf or DJ Conway, and no further catechesis occurs.  We are all familiar with these people: we call them fluffy bunnies.  The general opinion on fluffy bunnies is negative, as I'm sure this audience is aware.  But should we really look on them with the disdain that we do?

It's a little unfair to judge pagans for being ignorant or uneducated about their faith when there is no catechetical structure in place.  Pagans who do not have someone in their lives to guide them down the path have to make due with what they have, which, depending on one's area, can be rather dubious information.  With the exception of Cherry Hill Seminary, there is no place for pagans to go to further their education.  It is left up to them to make individual choices about every bit of information they receive.  This naturally results in many different flavors of paganism, which further complicates the catechetical issue.  In every Catholic catechetical class I have sat in on, there is a programmed curriculum based on the students' age that has been handed down from a central authority.  It is obvious why this system would fail in a pagan setting: there is no central authority.

Is there a solution to this problem?  Perhaps.  Perhaps if we hold pagan publishing houses to a higher standard, instead of continuing to purchase from them when they are putting out subpar material to sell more books, we might make room for writers who actually know what they're talking about.  But that does nothing to combat the wealth of bad information available on the internet.  Perhaps we need to change our attitude about people who are new to the faith.  After all, few of them are ever willfully ignorant.  If you consider yourself to be someone in the know, make yourself a resource to the young and new people around you.  Just don't let it go to your head.

My Wicca Testimony

So, today, someone told me that the key to proper catechism (religious education) is testimony.  That is, sharing your own religious experiences but making sure to draw attention to what God has done for you rather than yourself, can be super effective, not to educate, obviously, but to evangelize.  "Bearing witness to Christ" is the best way bring people to the Church.  How to properly share your testimony, though?  Answer these three questions:

1. What was your life like before Christ?
2. How did you convert to Christianity?
3. What is your life like now, with Christ?

Obviously, my testimony will be a little different.

My life before Christ was one of loneliness and isolation (so far so good, right?).  I grew up as basically atheist in a small, rural Christian town.  When I was in middle school, I had friends who asked me things like, "If humans are descended from apes, why are there still monkeys?"  In my class in world history in the sixth grade, my teacher asked me to describe and draw my favorite Bible story.  My mom took me to an Episcopal Church where the homily started out, "Hey, at least we're better than Lutherans!" 

Because this is my Christian story, I'm going to skip over my years as a fledgling witch.  Let's go to college!

I went to a private Catholic institution.  As a part of my curriculum there, I was required to take six hours in theology.  Not a big deal.  I enjoy studying other cultures.  Now, I admit, I was nineteen and naive.  When we got to the Biblical portion of my Intro to Catholicism class, I was pretty good at Biblical interpretation, despite the fact that it was the first time encountering many of the texts.  I earned a lot of praise from my male professor, which admittedly felt pretty good.  I lacked a certain amount of male praise growing up.  I earned a scholarship for community service work.  Some of the projects I was involved with were entirely secular (such as helping catalogue photographs at the local library), but the majority of my projects were through the school, which meant there was a spiritual aspect/reflection in almost everything I did.  I got heavily involved in campus ministry, if (initially) for the community outreach aspect of it.

So, combining all the praise I was receiving in my theology courses and the feeling of being included with campus ministry, along with the isolation I felt being a witch at a small Catholic university, I decided to major in theology.  From there, it only made sense to be confirmed in the Catholic Church, if only for my career.  I don't think I ever really believed in the teachings of the Church.  I was always very uncomfortable with the position of women in the Church.  At the back of my mind, I think I felt as though I could help things along between Catholics and pagans by approaching them using their own language.  I was terribly naive.

After college, I went to work for the Church.  Let me say this: my supervisor was a very good, upstanding man.  He took a chance with hiring me with no experience and I truly appreciate the opportunity.  However, he was also laity.  Almost every priest I met refused to look me in the eye, or even address me directly.  This was off-putting, of course, but I ignored it.  After a few months, I realized that there would be no advancement in my career.  Even more, the issues that were most important to me (such as environmental issues), were completely brushed off by the majority of people I met in a professional capacity.  I say "brushed off," but it was really more like "aggressively ignored."  It was made very clear that these issues were not of interest to the average Catholic.

And then there were the phone calls.  After every weekend, I would dread coming back to work because I knew my voicemail would be inundated with people (Catholic parishioners) swearing and screaming at me because they disagreed with (again, their own Catholic) politics.  It was then that I realized there was no hope approaching Catholics with a pagan perspective, because they couldn't even agree with each other.  I gave up hope and quit my job.

Now, let's go back and tell the story again, but with Wicca.

The inciting incident that led me to Wicca was this: I attended a performance by my nieces and nephews at their Bible Camp.  At the end of the performance, the children parroted off Bible verses without understanding them.  It struck me as very wrong, but it shouldn't have, not if I was truly an atheist.  So I went on a quest for what I believed in.  I went through some of the same struggles that I'm sure a lot of pagans and Wiccans go through: do I really believe this, or do I just want to believe this?  This went on for years, despite experiences that confirmed my beliefs.  I found that traditional Wiccan practices didn't quite fit with my lifestyle, as I've mentioned in a previous post.  Eventually I found a spiritual practice that worked for me and a deity that in her infitine graciousness took interest in me.  (I have to note that it happened in that order; it seemed that when I was more attentive to my beliefs, I attracted more spiritual attention.  Funny how that works.)

Life after Wicca is actually fairly normal.  I work a full-time job, pay my bills, watch movies, read books.  But I have the benefit of being able to see transcendence everywhere.  Deity is all around me.  That is what makes my life rich.

Old and New Perspectives

Without revealing too many details, the only other Wiccan I know (personally) is a woman old enough to be my grandmother, who devoted herself to the Path at a time that would mark her as a first generation American witch ("witch" here referring to the modern usage).  Although she is American born and bred, she identifies as a British Traditionalist Witch.  It seems as though her greatest annoyance with the Wiccan/Pagan community is with the growing Eclectic Wicca movement--but we've had some disagreements about the whole Initiation issue as well.

Of course, someone who has gone through a formal Initiation experience, who has progressed through the traditional levels of teaching, will naturally vouch for their own lived experience, especially if it was significant to them.  Even more so if it was performed well!  However, I hardly need to point out that many second and third generation witches did not have the benefit of nearby covens, and many readily accessible sources have vouched for self-initiation experiences.  For many of us, self-initiation was simply a matter of course.  It may or may not have been as powerful as some of the initiation rituals I've seen described in older sources, for many reasons.  First of all, if the fledgling witch is not well versed in the transformative aspects of ritual or, even worse, completely unaware of them, the whole thing might have come off as empty or even silly.  This, probably more than anything, leads to people turning away from Wicca.

I have recently been reading some of the fourth century baptismal homilies of St. Cyril of Jerusalem and St. Ambrose.  Interestingly enough, both of these men described the meaning behind baptism and the other sacraments of initiation only after the catechumen had experienced them.  It has been posited that early Christians relied on the mysterious aspect of their rituals to enact a greater change in the individual.  Baptism was, in their eyes, a figurative death and rebirth as a member of the Church and a believer in Christ.  If one were to go back to The Witches' Bible by the Farrars, one will see the same kind of ideas.  Mystery and secrecy were major parts of Wicca.  Now, just about every aspect of our religion is laid bare for anyone who can afford a book from a thrift shop.  And what has happened as a result is something the Catholic Church fought against for centuries.

Up until the Reformation, scripture was written in Latin and the under classes were kept deliberately ignorant, for if they could read the Bible, they might offer alternate interpretations.  Once the cat was out of the bag about Wicca, just about anybody could write just about anything about it and sell books.  I think this is when Initiation, the three hierarchical levels, and the Witch's Pyramid (the corner of which is secrecy) began to disintegrate.

The Wicca my friend practices is not the same as my Wicca.  Is this a bad thing, though?  Maybe she's stuck in the past, or maybe I'm too loosey-goosey.  Or maybe we're both right.  Maybe there isn't even a "right" or a "wrong."  It's interesting though--we can call both Catholics and Protestants "Christians" and still be correct because they worship the same god.  Besides that, some denominations have very little in common.  But I can't even claim that my friend and I worship the same gods!  She believes in the traditional Lord and Lady, while I work with specific named deities.  We celebrate the same holidays, but not in the same way.  What is it that binds us together, makes us somehow "the same"?  Is it just the name?

I think Wiccans are rapidly heading for (or have already collided with) a huge existential crisis.  When there are no more first generation witches, when there is no one who practices "the standard," will Wicca truly still exist?  Or will "British Traditionalists" become a group like the Christian "Shakers" that died out a hundred years ago?  Wicca is evolving, that's a fact.  And as it evolves, it splinters off again and again like the branches of a tree.  Everything on Earth evolves.  So, I guess that great truth applies here again:

As above, so below.

Your Spiritual Practice is Still Practice!

“Be constant.”

This was part of the message I received yesterday while meditating with Amaterasu, Japanese Goddess of the Sun. That word, “constant,” is not one I use very often, if ever.  I had to mull on it.  I’m very constant when it comes to my work, my education, and my family, but constancy is not something I would ascribe to my spiritual life.  My practice has always been somewhat fickle.  I might go a month in a stagnant state before picking myself back up again.  Sometimes other things get in the way: work is too stressful, or my husband’s health took another turn, for instance.  I might get a bad turn in my tarot reading and stash away my deck for weeks at a time.

For those of us who are solitary practitioners, being constant with your religious practice can be tough, especially if you lack in self-discipline, like I do. There is no one to keep you moving on your path but you.  And if you’re like me, your own self is not always the strictest task master. 

I’m learning, though.  Taking time out of your day to journal is a great way to keep yourself attuned to the presence of deity in your life.  And although the weather is changing, it’s important to find time to commune with nature.  You could bring a blanket to the park, like I do.  Now is the best time of year to find peace and solitude outside if you live in an urban area. Children are in school and it’s too cold to play on the playgrounds anymore, but some of the birds have yet to cease their singing.  If nothing else, you can listen to the sound of falling leaves or rain.

Our Christian brothers and sisters, for the most part, take time every Sunday to commune with their God and community. Although we are not bound by rules about the Sabbath like they are, we could learn something from their weekly pilgrimage to their holy spaces.  There is some danger in routine when it comes to one’s spiritual practice.  Sometimes, when we fall into rhythms, we tend to compartmentalize our lives.  We say, “This is the time for me to be with the Goddess,” and we shut her out of the rest of our time so we can concentrate on getting dinner made or homework done.  This is part of the reason why Catholics wear sacramentals (such as a cross or crucifix)—it serves as a constant reminder that their God is always with them, regardless of whatever mundane activity they’re doing.  For pagans, a sacramental might be a favorite stone or a tattoo, but carrying a reminder of the divine with you always is not a bad idea.  For those of us still firmly entrenched in the Broom Closet, there are discrete ways of reminding yourself of the omnipresent deity in your life.  Where a pentacle necklace might bring questions, a star might be dismissed as merely trendy.  No one has to see what you carry close to your heart.

Maintaining a religious practice takes effort on your part.  Although there might be times when you feel the divine shouting at you, desperately trying to get your attention, there will also be times when She will want you to come to Her.  As in any relationship, it cannot survive if it is one-sided.  Sometimes we have to ask for what we need, rather than simply hope for it to arrive.  If you are seeking some kind of personal gnosis, you are going to have to nurture that relationship with the divine. How can you get the message if you don’t check your inbox?

Your Unique Path and Other People

I once asked my Twitter followers what one should do when one half of a married couple is pagan and the other is not.  I never received any answers (probably due to a limited audience, but still).  I’ve been ruminating on the question myself, and so far I haven’t come up with any answers.  My husband is an atheist and passionate about his non-belief—so much so that he’ll remind that waitress at the local diner when she inevitably asks about our Christmas plans.  I, on the other hand, belong to one of the most fanciful religious traditions around.  He doesn’t understand the concept of “sacred space,” only “this is Saya’s area.”  He doesn’t understand that my garden/altar is not only my space, but a space for deity as well.  I guess I’m lucky inasmuch as he respects my personal space.

Honestly, I am having less of a problem with my husband than with the rest of my family.  I have been a practicing pagan since I was seventeen years old.  My parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of; I don’t think either of them expected it to last into my adulthood, let alone with the same strength and fervor.  My dad thinks I’m silly, and I’m sure that his opinion of the theatrics and drama of paganism have colored my own feelings toward ritual.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I have trouble not feeling ridiculous when I’m spell-casting or casting a circle.  My mother expects that one day I will become a Catholic again, like she did, although I haven’t heard her opinion since the Church has demanded $275 to grant her annulment and allow her to take communion.  Lately, her tone has been a little bitter when she speaks about the Church.

But returning to the marital question: what is one to do when one feels a pull towards the Goddess (or deity) and one’s other half doesn’t?  I don’t suppose there’s a lot either one of you can do.  If your spouse cannot support your spiritual beliefs and you are unwilling to sacrifice them for the relationship to work, I don’t see as how either one of you are compatible.  If you feel like your spouse will mock you for being part of a religion that encourages imagination, play-acting, and creativity, perhaps you don’t really believe what you think you believe.  Perhaps you are only trying to believe it because it is appealing to you in some other way.  That is, maybe you like being part of a “strange” minority religion, or you’ve been put off of a patriarchal view of deity.  I understand!  You want to believe in something so badly!

If this sounds like you, here is the trick to making it work.  If something about Wicca puts you off or sounds too preposterous to put your faith in—change it!  Omit it altogether, if you want!  There is no such thing as the “wrong” path.  What may be wrong for you will work for someone else.  Ultimately, it is up to each of us to search ourselves for what we truly hold dear in the darkest, deepest parts of ourselves.  Forget labels and titles.  We are long past the stage where every Wiccan must be initiated according to Gerald Gardner’s rules.  Of course, there will always be purists who resent this contamination of the original vein of Wicca and paganism.  Go ahead and leave them to it—their hang-ups have nothing to do with you.

And if you are afraid that you will never find a group that will accept you, never fear.  Any group becomes unwieldy if it gets large enough.  There are plenty of pagan groups that are willing to accept you just the way you are.  In fact, they are looking for someone like you because you can bring something special and unique to their group dynamic.  You could be an atheist Wiccan and still find a spot somewhere.  Don’t give up looking just yet.

Wicca and Commercialism

So this has been kicking around in my head for a few days.  We’re all aware, especially with the Holiday season rapidly—and perhaps prematurely—approaching, that religion is highly commercialized.  I’m not even talking about the mad Black Friday shoppers, or the murderous crowds that just have to get their hands on a Tickle-Me-Elmo or Furby or what have you.  Every Christmas season it seems as though there’s more and more to buy just for the sake of celebration itself: Christmas Tree ornaments, Nativity sets, Santa hats, bows, ribbons, wrapping paper—It’s endless!  And let’s not forget Easter… Or Valentine’s Day… Or Halloween.

As a pagan and witch, for a long time I thought myself above the need for chintzy little decorations like “Jesus Playing Basketball in Ceramic,” but during coffee with a friend I found myself saying, “You know, I really hate how commercialized Wicca has become.”  I said it without even really thinking about it, but it’s true.  Every new Wiccan is immediately told by many, many sources (both online and in books) that they need an athame, a wand, a chalice, a bell, a pentacle, dried herbs, a tarot deck, and on and on—always with the addendum that it’s really better to make your own tools, but if that’s not possible, go to www.wiccawhatever.com…

It’s probably good business, to be honest.  I remember when I first started out—for real this time.  I was out of my parents’ house and in my own apartment.  I could do as I damn well pleased.  If I wanted to set up an altar in the middle of the living room, by the Goddess I was going to do so.  I tried to start simple.  To signify the Goddess I had a postcard from my mother picturing an Iris.  For the God, a pinecone I managed to find under the coniferous trees a few blocks from where I parked my car.  I cast my first circle… and it sucked.  It turns out that my little renovated studio wasn’t the best place to raise a cone of power.

I convinced myself (after conveniently finding a well-known metaphysical shop a few blocks away), that it was my tools.  The reason I couldn’t cultivate the atmosphere I wanted was because I was using cereal bowls to hold my salt and water!  Ridiculous, right?  The very first athame I bought featured a dragon’s head hilt with red crystal eyes, grasping a white crystal in its mouth.  “You’re a dragon girl, eh?” the shopkeeper had asked me and I replied, “Sure!” even though I bought it because it was the nicest looking one that I could afford at the time.  I don’t even like dragons.

This started a habit that lasted years.  I used to cruise antique malls looking for just the right item to sit on my altar at home.  Mostly anything that was actually nice was out of my price range—I had a perfume bottle shaped like Athena even though I didn’t even relate to the Goddess in her aspect.  A pewter sculpture of Bast (even though this is a face I do relate to), and who knows what else.  Still, though, my spellcasting was shit and my altar felt about as sacred as my bathroom vanity.

Over the years, I lost all that stuff, even the postcard from my mom, which I wish I could have kept a hold of.  It was only through losing everything that I realized that I never needed it in the first place.  I don’t like to cast spells.  I couldn’t Draw Down the Moon if you asked me to.  My altar is my garden.  Having living, growing lives that depend on me (somewhat—my venus fly trap seems pretty independent) puts me more in a sacred frame of mind than any of the knick knacks I so desired when I was seventeen ever could.  I love reading the Farrars’ elaborate rituals, but it’s more like reading a screenplay for me.  I still love going to etsy and browsing the Wiccan and pagan stuff, but so far the only thing I’ve bought is a moonstone bracelet.  Sorry, ladies, your jewelry is beautiful, but no.  Not today, anyway.