Pagan in Public (or, One Foot in the Broom Closet?)
So I ran into Brad on campus today. If you're following this and don't know him, Brad is a member of the local Pagan community. In terms of background and inclination, he's very, very (book-)Wicca-focused: trained (briefly) with the priestess who did my handfasting, largely duotheistic, comfortable with both of the W-words, tends to feel persecuted by the dominant culture, usually dripping with occultish jewellery, wants to do guided meditation a lot, likes to come to every ritual circle fully robed, etc. I like Brad, I really do, but while I'm happy to provide spiritual care to him as needed, we're not at all the same kind of Pagan.
See, as these things go, I'm sort of an EpiscoPagan: beautiful liturgies, sort of watered-down theo/thealogy, and I really dig dignity. I think it's an effect of growing up in the Anglican church; if I'd grown up in a charismatic tradition, I might have turned into the next Silver Ravenwolf or something. Truth is, I'm not a theist at all, neither mono nor poly: I just don't do the "personal God/s, active in the universe" thing. I try to resist categorization, but if I had to be thrown into a category, I'd probably fit best under pantheism ("God is better understood as way of looking at natural law, existence, and the Universe (the sum total of all that was, is and shall be), rather than as a transcendent and especially anthropomorphic entity" - Wiki). I don't expect anyone to see things the way I do, though. Nobody has to, because Paganism is resistant to orthodoxy as a whole (this can't be said of all the particular traditions under the umbrella, but that's another story for another day). Also, I consider myself a fairly serious student of those aspects of Paganism which resonate with me: myth as both metaphor and cultural artifact, liturgical design, ethics, history, that sort of thing. I like strong scholarship in my books on the subject, or failing that, I like Pagan authors to admit that it's still early in our history and we're still building our traditions. The time to "invent your own Grandma" has passed, if it ever really existed at all. Give me Ronald Hutton over Silver Ravenwolf any day. I really want to be part of a religious tradition, or collection thereof, with dignity and gravitas and joy and an authentic identity. Does that make sense?
The problem is, that's not where the movement is currently at, and moreover, that's not where the local community (such as it is) is at. I shouldn't speak in generalizations, of course, but it seems to me that Pagans tend to be more credulous than critical -- a lot of people encounter Paganism for the first time with Cunningham's Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner, but it seems many ignore his admonition to read everything with a critical eye, even his own words. Brad, sweet fellow that he is, is not exactly a practitioner of the fine art of critical thinking; worse, he also couldn't find discretion on a map.
It makes me profoundly uncomfortable when people who conceive of a completely different brand of Paganism -- and here I mean people who'll try anything as long as it sounds mysterious (and/or implausible), whether or not they understand its sources, or who've seen The Craft one too many times, or what have you -- put me on the spot. I had someone corner me in the mall once and loudly go on at some length about blood-mingling in a "proper" handfasting (not something I ever practice, though I don't judge those who wish to share bodily fluids on their own time), for instance. Today wasn't even the first time Brad has talked to me about spiritual matters in an inappropriate context: the first time, he started asking me about people, referring to them by their craft/spiritual names, while I was hard at work at the barbershop! On a marginally less annoying level, I've had people pester me about casting spells and psychic powers (get me started, I dare you) when I was trying to hang out with friends.
So today, after I took the opportunity to run away from Brad (I believe I flashed a "Dave, don't leave me!" look), I started thinking about what an odd space I'm in. I'm a very public Pagan: I've been quoted in the media (complete with "hey look, I haven't slept in days!" picture, also featuring Fluffy), I'm known locally for providing non-churchy wedding services, including handfastings, I'm the Pagan rep on my local Multifaith Committee, and I never leave the house without my very tasteful, minimalist pentacle on board. While I provide spiritual care to my community, though, I'm very private about my beliefs and personal practices -- I don't even share that part of myself with Kyle, for the most part. It's for me to decide what to reveal, and when, and what to keep to myself. When someone puts me on the spot like Brad did today, I feel torn between allowing possible misunderstandings about me to stand and revealing deeply private information. I haven't quite worked out how to handle that.
See, as these things go, I'm sort of an EpiscoPagan: beautiful liturgies, sort of watered-down theo/thealogy, and I really dig dignity. I think it's an effect of growing up in the Anglican church; if I'd grown up in a charismatic tradition, I might have turned into the next Silver Ravenwolf or something. Truth is, I'm not a theist at all, neither mono nor poly: I just don't do the "personal God/s, active in the universe" thing. I try to resist categorization, but if I had to be thrown into a category, I'd probably fit best under pantheism ("God is better understood as way of looking at natural law, existence, and the Universe (the sum total of all that was, is and shall be), rather than as a transcendent and especially anthropomorphic entity" - Wiki). I don't expect anyone to see things the way I do, though. Nobody has to, because Paganism is resistant to orthodoxy as a whole (this can't be said of all the particular traditions under the umbrella, but that's another story for another day). Also, I consider myself a fairly serious student of those aspects of Paganism which resonate with me: myth as both metaphor and cultural artifact, liturgical design, ethics, history, that sort of thing. I like strong scholarship in my books on the subject, or failing that, I like Pagan authors to admit that it's still early in our history and we're still building our traditions. The time to "invent your own Grandma" has passed, if it ever really existed at all. Give me Ronald Hutton over Silver Ravenwolf any day. I really want to be part of a religious tradition, or collection thereof, with dignity and gravitas and joy and an authentic identity. Does that make sense?
The problem is, that's not where the movement is currently at, and moreover, that's not where the local community (such as it is) is at. I shouldn't speak in generalizations, of course, but it seems to me that Pagans tend to be more credulous than critical -- a lot of people encounter Paganism for the first time with Cunningham's Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner, but it seems many ignore his admonition to read everything with a critical eye, even his own words. Brad, sweet fellow that he is, is not exactly a practitioner of the fine art of critical thinking; worse, he also couldn't find discretion on a map.
It makes me profoundly uncomfortable when people who conceive of a completely different brand of Paganism -- and here I mean people who'll try anything as long as it sounds mysterious (and/or implausible), whether or not they understand its sources, or who've seen The Craft one too many times, or what have you -- put me on the spot. I had someone corner me in the mall once and loudly go on at some length about blood-mingling in a "proper" handfasting (not something I ever practice, though I don't judge those who wish to share bodily fluids on their own time), for instance. Today wasn't even the first time Brad has talked to me about spiritual matters in an inappropriate context: the first time, he started asking me about people, referring to them by their craft/spiritual names, while I was hard at work at the barbershop! On a marginally less annoying level, I've had people pester me about casting spells and psychic powers (get me started, I dare you) when I was trying to hang out with friends.
So today, after I took the opportunity to run away from Brad (I believe I flashed a "Dave, don't leave me!" look), I started thinking about what an odd space I'm in. I'm a very public Pagan: I've been quoted in the media (complete with "hey look, I haven't slept in days!" picture, also featuring Fluffy), I'm known locally for providing non-churchy wedding services, including handfastings, I'm the Pagan rep on my local Multifaith Committee, and I never leave the house without my very tasteful, minimalist pentacle on board. While I provide spiritual care to my community, though, I'm very private about my beliefs and personal practices -- I don't even share that part of myself with Kyle, for the most part. It's for me to decide what to reveal, and when, and what to keep to myself. When someone puts me on the spot like Brad did today, I feel torn between allowing possible misunderstandings about me to stand and revealing deeply private information. I haven't quite worked out how to handle that.