The call for papers for the next annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion is now available online. You will find the Contemporary Pagan Studies Group’s CFP here.
Tag Archives: American religion
Cemetery Theory in the Upland South
From a blog about the archaeology of American cemeteries:
There are cemeteries that are formally laid out, for example, most city cemeteries (many of which follow the ideas of the Rural Cemetery movement, but that’s a topic for another day), then there are the folk cemeteries – those that follow a folk, or vernacular, pattern. The distinction is roughly analogous to that between Landmark Architecture (created by professionally trained and schooled architects) and Vernacular Architecture (everything else – often applied to barns, houses, and other structures). Like Folk/Vernacular Architecture, Folk Cemeteries follow a cultural pattern developed through tradition and practical experience. There are many different traditions in cemeteries, one of which is the Upland South Folk Cemetery as defined by D. Gregory Jeane. I’m going to prevent a sort of thumbnail sketch of the Upland South Folk Cemetery (USFC), if you’d like to know more check out suggested reading at the end of this post.
Wicca without “Woo”
I linked earlier to one of Eric Steinhart’s series of discussions and critiques of Wicca from a non-theistic philosophical perspective. Here is the last, apparently, on Wicca without the “woo”:
Despite Steinhart’s perspective, however, his blogging annoyed some of the heavyweights at Freethoughtblogs.com, of which Camels with Hammers is part.
Having read a few of Eric’s contributions, I am disgusted. Prolix bafflegab, confusion, thinly veiled attempts to rationalize pagan mysticism, and just general longwinded bullshit. Why have you invited him here? He’s awful.
Woo indeed. Apparently Wicca comes under the heading of Things That May Not Be Discussed if you are a committed atheist. (Condemnation from the security of one’s armchair would be all right, I suppose.) If you take it seriously enough to discuss the possibility of an “atheistic nature religion,” you have become ideologically unclean.
Ironic, eh?
Learning about Pagans for the Purpose of Converting Them
Last month, I answered some questions from a reporter for a Christian news site.
He had such response that now he is on the Pagan beat. So I give you “A Peek at Modern Paganism, Part One” and “Part Two.”
Soon — wait for it — you meet that reliable figure, the ex-Pagan who found Jesus.
(Sorry, but there is a long history of fraud about that. One example here: John Todd. I mentioned Todd to the reporter, Mark Hensch, but Christian reporters rarely seem to investigate the claims of ex-Pagans on the lecture trail. Todd was brought down by Christian journalists, it’s true, but he is just one example of the type.)
Understanding such multiplicity, says former Santeria-high-priest-turned-evangelical-Christian-author John Ramirez, is vital to befriending and ministering to pagans. Christians need grace, compassion and mercy, he said, to connect with their pagan peers.
Interestingly, the next expert quoted is James Beverley, a Canadian whom I know slightly from academic study of new religious movements, in which he is active. But here he has his theologian hat on:
“Witchcraft ultimately fails in the mythic and legendary nature of its gods and goddesses,” Beverley writes in Nelson’s Illustrated Guide to Religions’ chapter on Wicca. “The Roman, Celtic, Nordic and Greek deities dwell only in the followers’ imaginations. The lack of historical trustworthiness concerning Artemis or Zeus or Diana or Isis is in direct contrast the historical nature of the Gospel accounts of Jesus Christ.”
Bottom line: be strong in your faith, learn to appreciate nature, and you can get close to the Pagans.
What Do Pagans Get from Interfaith Activities?
What does “ecumenism” mean when you don’t “all worship the same god”?
Elizabeth Scalia, a/k/a The Anchoress, a Roman Catholic blogger at Patheos, comments simultaneously on posts by another Patheos Catholic blogger and by Star Foster, who manages the site’s Pagan portal. Both of the latter, in Star’s words, hold that “My faith is not a matter of style. It’s not like shoes or purses. It’s not a matter of deciding if I want tacos or pasta for dinner. It’s not something I can change on a whim.”
Scalia’s verdict: “Ecumenism has not been able to say that [not all religions are the same]; it’s been too busy trying to be all things to all people and placing equal values to things that are not equal in anyone’s mind. It’s been a lie.”
She ends up admiring Star for her honesty, at least. But her commenters, many of them, are not convinced. “I couldn’t call myself a Catholic and not tell you that the practice of Witchcraft is evil,” notes one.
Which is why I sometimes wonder why we — Pagans in particular — bother with ecumenical and interfaith activities.
It’s true that I do often feel that religious professionals have more in common with each other and are more able to relate to one another than their congregants and followers are.
We Pagans do not seek unity with the same fervor that the Christians do (even as they splinter more and more). “Ecumenicism” refers to a promotion of unity, of purpose if not of organization, between different Christian bodies.
“Interfaith” has a somewhat different meaning. At times the two words are used interchangeably, but they should not be. Were it not for the American constitutional tradition of religious freedom (and similar traditions in some other Western nations), I do not think that the Pagans would get a seat at the interfaith luncheon table. (Resolutions passed by the United Nations have no effect that I have ever seen.)
So my title is an editorial rather than a rhetorical question. I have just been going over some material related to the Contemporary Pagan Studies Group in the American Academy of Religion — the 2012 call for papers has not yet been posted but soon will be. I don’t know if that topic would fit the “call” perfectly, but a creative person could make it fit. Or write an article for The Pomegranate.
Top Pagan New Stories of 2011
Do visit The Wild Hunt and read “Top Ten Pagan Stories of 2011, Part 1” and “Part 2.”
Asperger’s or Just Garage-Band Religion?
My friends who are scholars of new religious movements (NRMs) theorize about how NRMs develop or do not, become accepted or do not, assimilate or do not. Some engage in a “scholarship of advocacy,” defending in various fora the human right to start one’s own religion without being labeled a dangerous cult.
But in many cases, I think that they also just enjoy the spectacle of religion, the sheer weirdness and variety of what comes down the road.
Rod Dreher, a cultural commentator who often touches on religion, but not a scholar of NRMS as such, put up a light-hearted post recently about “His Royal Highness Prince Rutherford Johnson of Etruria, who is also Rutherford Cardinal Johnson, the patriarch of the recently invented Anglican Rite Roman Catholic Church.”
Some of the comments are quite good and lead to other links about episcopi vagantes — self-proclaimed or dubious bishops, archbishops, and anti-popes.
One commenter hypothesized an Asperger’s syndrome connection, only with hierarchies, vestments, and churchiness rather than computers, trains, or some of the other intense fascinations that Aspie kids often display.
It all reminded me of my wife’s step-brother. He had a fairly mainstream Roman Catholic childhood in upstate New York, but was always fascinated with orders of knighthood and coats of arms, which he designed for the family. He eventually found some decayed European aristocrat to make him a knight of the “Order of St. Constantine” or something, whereupon he put out a news release about himself, which appeared in his local newspaper.
“Do you think he was somewhere on that spectrum?” I asked her.
“He was always just weird,” she said.
Setting aside the dynamics of her family, maybe some people are just weirdly creative. On a scale of 1 to 5, how much weirder is starting a church than starting a garage band? (Both might have a secondary goal of improving your social life.) Both are creative activities.
Archbishop . . . archdruid . . . arch-whatever. Here comes the parade!
An Atheistic Critique of Wicca
Blogging atheist Eric Steinhart, writing at Daniel Fincke’s Camels with Hammers, turns his rhetorical guns on Wicca. He thinks that a “woo-free Wicca” might be tolerable.
There are a number of separate posts, and I have not read them all. But I get the impression that he is engaging with a very limited number of books, chosen more or less at random from the Llewellyn catalog, plus something by the late Stewart Farrar.
The irony is that there are indeed a huge number of books about Wicca, yet everyone calls it a religion of experience, “embodied religion,” and so forth. I am not sure that Steinhart gets that part. Has he been in circle? Has he experienced the fire and smoke and music of a large festival?
I don’t mean that either experience would “convert” him, nor should they. And he probably would respond that they merely activate different parts of the brain, which has nothing to do with all those imaginary gods, etc.
What interests me here too is that his postings provide another data point in the increasing role of contemporary Paganism — and Wicca (broadly defined) as its largest segment — as the new religious “other.”
What people like Steinhart have yet to work out is that the rhetorical starting points are different when talking about polytheism, animism, etc. than when talking about the scriptural religions.
Mojo and Materiality: 300 Goddesses
The bulk of Morning Glory Zell's goddess-image collection is in these cabinets.
After Isis Oasis and Lucky Mojo, the final stop on the pre-AAR annual meeting “Mojo and Materiality” tour was the home of Oberon and Morning Glory Zell of the Church of All Worlds.
They contribute to Pagan “materiality” through through their business, Mythic Images, which features Oberon’s and other designers’ statues, plaques, and jewelry.
But they also have a huge collection of occult and Pagan-related images and objects of their own, gathered and created over the past forty-some years.
Morning Glory uses these images in workshops on the Divine Feminine, and is prepared to discuss the stories, cultus, and relationships of each one. We did not have time for a full workshop, of course, but she gave a sort of hands-on meta-presentation about how she does them.
My only regret is that the sun had set, so we could not see the grounds and outside shrines.
Mojo & Materiality: Lucky Mojo Curio Co.
Mexican devil image, left, from Lucky Mojo. Candle from Montréal Pagan Resource Centre, both on my desk.
When the AAR met in Montreal in 2009, we not only had our first session on idolatry/materiality from a Pagan perspective, but also the Magical Mercantile Tour of Pagan and occult-related shops and meeting places.
This year’s tour revisited the concept under a slightly different name, a tribute to our second stop, the Lucky Mojo Curio Co. in Forestville, Calif. (The first stop was Isis Oasis.) The tour was made possible by Julie Epona and Morning Glory Zell of the Church of All Worlds.
Lucky Mojo employs a small staff in mail-order product sales, hoodoo lessons, and counseling. The first thing you see when walking up to the shop is a shed painted with a version of the “See Rock City” advertisement painted on barns throughout the Southeast and Lower Midwest.
The shed displays an iconic Tennessee advertisement.
The Rock City ad not only sets you up for what has been described as Lucky Mojo’s “1930s Memphis” aesthetic, but since founder Catherine Yronwode has a background in graphic-novel and comics publishing, I suspect that it might also be a reference to Neil Gaiman’s American Gods.
Catherine Yronwode in her shop.
That is Lucky Mojo: ironic, postmodern, humorous—but still serious.
My other souvenir is a classic wooden-handled cardboard fan, of the type handed out by funeral parlors in the pre-air-conditioning era. One side shows a soppy portrait of Jesus as The Good Shepherd, while the other advertises the ambiguously named Missionary Independent Spiritual Church, located adjacent to the shop and office.
Interior of the "smallest church," with Catherine's partner, Nagasiva Yronwode, peering in the window, and the Good Shepherd fan and devil figure (also shown above) on the table.
It has just a small table and two chairs for card readings, etc., plus altars for placing help requests according to their elemental correspondences.
In the spirit of Hoodoo and rootwork, the “smallest church” is cheerfully casual about theological categories. As Tayannah Lee McQuillar writes in Rootwork, “[Rootwork] has no pantheon or priesthood. It refers only to a set of healing and spell practices, and the practitioner can be whatever religion they wish.”