Et Voila! The Good News Bookshoppe’s Religion List is complete…for the moment. These lists will no doubt evolve and change over time – that’s what I love about ‘em. Next up: Culture, Ecology and Activism. Woo!
Also – as a brief aside before diving into the topic rattling around in my brain this morning, let me just say how consummately unfair it is that somewhere between the time I learned to type (which was only 20 freakin’ years ago maybe), and now, someone eliminated the extra space between a period and the next sentence. I was taught to hit the space-bar twice after the end of a sentence. *fume* Thus, the experiment in retraining begins here and now. More ways in which civilization is just plain ridiculous. But again, I do go on.
As the temperature peaks out today in the balmy 20s (and maybe even 30!), and my fellow townspeople sweep about the streets flagrantly opening their coats and breathing in the lovely “warm” air, and a sweet sense of freedom moves through the world, I am pondering the fascinating question of secrecy within the Pagan movement.
Much has been written on secrecy in Pagan religion. There are a multitude of opinions and reasonable arguments on both sides of the issue. Of course, I’m not talking about necessary secrecy – the privacy of faith that is necessary in some areas in order to protect one’s self, family or business from discrimination or interpersonal drama (as hard as it is to believe – there are a few people in my life who are unaware that I’m Pagan because I see no reason to cause a lot of unnecessary wailing and gnashing of teeth). No, I’m talking about “oathbound” material, secrecy designed to “preserve the tradition,” or delineate between the initiated and outsiders.
I struggle with secrecy (as a sworn Pagan Evangelical, this seems logical). On one hand, of course there is a place for Mystery, for the intimacy that comes from keeping rites a private affair, for the deliciousness of knowing that here, within this room or this circle or this hedge or this grove, there is a specific uniting knowledge that keeps a tradition alive. Yet. Yet. Yet – there is a difference between privacy and secrecy. And then there is that lingering scent of elitism (or is it just burnt toast?), that makes everything just a trifle off.
Privacy is important – my coven practices it ourselves. Privacy and confidentiality amount to the fact that we do not flagrantly toss about the content of our coven conversations, the intimate details of our particular celebrations, the visions we see or the dreams we have that might infringe on the confidentiality of our covenmates – privacy in this case is about establishing trust, creating safe space.
I guess the question that I would ask is: when instead we speak of rites and prayers and polythea/ologies, particularly among our sister and brother Pagans - what is the motivation for Secrecy? What does it really accomplish? We can all think of times that rules of secrecy have accomplished a certain superior attitude about the elite privilege of knowing treasured occult secrets that untrained plebians aren’t privy to (Ah, to be accomplished – “I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished”).
The justification for Secrecy that I struggle with the most is the one based on the claim that any material particular to the tradition in the hands of the untrained would result in the dilution and desecration of the tradition. As a quasi-traditional who floats somewhere between rampant eclecticism and hardline traditionalism (leaning more or less towards the latter), I value tradition. Yet. Yet. The wind pulls by me here in the first new gasps of spring and I wonder – is this kind of Secrecy ever completely enacted for the greater good?
Here is a Secret: when the wind turns suddenly, it can smell like Memory. Sometimes, the memory isn’t even yours. This is the way the wind tells all the secrets of Earth – everything is hidden, in everything is a Mystery – and not one is hoarded, but given freely to anyone who knows how to find them. Not such a secret? Well…I do my best – it is a small kind of accomplishment I suppose.
Jonah said,
February 12, 2007 at 8:26 pm
Ah, yes.(space)(space)The double space.
Well, I’m a bit too young for the double space, but my mother did try to teach me to do it. As recently as a year or two ago I was in an English class in which the teacher insisted we use the double space even though she was well aware that the rest of the world had stopped. I dropped that class. Not entirely because of the double space. But I think the notion of two spaces after a period was pretty silly to begin with – less silly, in fact, than changing it to a single space after years of double dipping. But that’s my opinion. I am from the latter end of the IRC age and the early end of the IM age. We wholeheartedly reject the double space. Muwahaha.
ANYWAY… Traditionalists who believe that sharing their secrets will dilute their tradition are absolutely right – if their tradition cherishes elite membership, power over, and/or mystique.(space)(space)
What happens when the uninitiated are made privy to mystery? One of three things. 1) Nothing. This is probably the most common occurrence. 2) They get it, in which case they (hopefully) learn from it and are better for it and – shocker – were probably ready for it anyway. 3) They don’t get it, and in fact get it wrong.
In my mind, the last case above is the only time when secrecy might be in order. I mean, who cares if they get it wrong? Their loss, not mine, right? But in the case of some potentially dangerous information (like, uh, maybe soul retrieval is one of the few examples I can think of), it might be best to withhold the process from the unprepared.
Say a big but non-lethal secret does get out. Look at the Golden Dawn. A tremendous amount of their previously secret rituals and teachings have been published in numerous books. And guess what? A tremendous amount of people have become empowered and otherwise benefited greatly from that expose. And guess what else? They’re still going strong and, AFAIK, have no severe membership shortage, and have lost no respect within the magical community. In fact, they are now more infamous than ever.
I think I’m starting to go on and on. The final point I want to make is one you already made: the secrets are out there. Shamans from all over the world who have had no contact with each other and even didn’t even know of each other’s existence displayed remarkably similar techniques. A book I just picked up called Plant Spirit Shamanism points out that this is because they learned from the spirits directly. I say, let the spirits decide who is worthy for the secrets! Let the gods dictate who goes out asking for them! And let our own readiness determine whether or not we understand and integrate the mysteries that are all around us!
gospelpagan said,
February 12, 2007 at 9:46 pm
Such good points, Johah, thank you! And your comment about learning from the plants directly – yes! Stephen Buhner, one of my favorite writers/herbalists, has said this also. You might enjoy his “The Lost Language of Plants” and “The Secret Teachings of Plants” in addition to the book you mention.
Thanks again for your thoughtful post!
-S
Thalia said,
February 12, 2007 at 11:48 pm
Well, I for one still religiously use the double space at the end of the sentence. I don’t think I can make my thumbs not do it by this point. It certainly serves a purpose, that being making it easy to tell where a sentence ends at a glance, and to cut down confusion when faced with capitalized words in the middle of a sentence. I do a lot of writing about Goddesses in Dreamweaver (which does not allow 2 spaces at the end) and since I’m in the habit of capitalizing pronouns referring to Deity like Her, Him, His, Theirs, Whom, all that, I find that without the double spaces it is harder to parse, enough so that I find it annoying. I also still put an extra apostrophe S at the end of single nouns that already end in S, e.g. “Dionysos’s festival”. I was taught this in school but it seems that nowadays only the British remember it (as in “Bridget Jones’s Diary”). Something is lost when the details disappear.
I don’t do secrets. I also don’t do initiations, I think for the same reasons, that I just inherently do not trust anyone in authority, maybe becuase I have been told many times over as a woman that someone else knows what’s in my best interest better than I do. And I have always believed that keeping secrets causes far more problems than telling them–how many abused children have suffered because they were told not to tell? Or, less seriously, how many sitcom plots revolve around someone caught in some lie because they were too embarassed to just tell the truth in the first place? I do understand that there is a difference between these kinds of secrets and the ones you’re talking about; but to me I just can’t shake my deep, deep mistrust of them. If my high priestess (one of whom, alas! I do not have at the present, being coven-less) told me something was a secret not to be revealed, or told me that an initiation was required, I would leave that coven. Jonah I think gets it right, that it’s a power-over thing rather than a power-shared thing, which I guess explains why I don’t do hierarchies either. If this religion thing is not accessible to everyone, it is not worth it.
And anyway there is a huge difference between knowing a secret, and knowing a secret. If I’m remembering correctly the central mystery revealed in the Eleusinian Mysteries was in the form of a cut stalk of wheat. I have some kind of inkling what that probably stands for (the seed planted like the dead body is buried, and as the seed sprouts so we are reborn, and it’s as natural and unavoidable as rain falling), but that doesn’t mean I understand it on a soul level or on the level of vision or revelation. You can, after all, hide a secret in plain sight.
heather said,
February 13, 2007 at 12:14 am
I’m holding out for the double space to come back.
gospelpagan said,
February 13, 2007 at 12:48 am
Thalia,
“maybe becuase I have been told many times over as a woman that someone else knows what’s in my best interest better than I do”
Ooooo, what an excellent point (among many in your post)! Yes, I am suspicious of secrets for all the reasons you mention as well.
And Heather – LOL. I’m totally going to say this from now on.
-S
Hecate Demetersdatter said,
February 13, 2007 at 3:13 am
I hit spacespace at the end of every sentence and likely will until I die. I am in the closet at work. I admit that I kind of liked it better when “we Pagans” didn’t prostelytize and were a bit difficult to find. But, I am old, I am old, I shall wear my trousers rolled.
Jonah said,
February 13, 2007 at 4:17 pm
Thalia said: “I also don’t do initiations, I think for the same reasons, that I just inherently do not trust anyone in authority…”
Hmm…
There are a whole spectrum of types of initiations. Are you sworn off all of them? If you happen to be part of a progressive enough group, initiations can even occur at personally meaningful times for you, designed not as an induction into a secret society but as a rite of passage, an induction into the next big secret of your life. You can initiate yourself in such a way, to make a life change or a change in focus spiritually meaningful.
Maybe that’s a fine line between “initiation” and “rite of passage.”
Another type of initiation that I’m definitely not opposed to is the attunement. I studied Reiki out of books for some time before I had my first attunement, and even practiced it. Once I was attuned, though, the experience was very different and much more powerful and meaningful. Some groups (usually ones with secrets) have similar types of initiatory attunements to bring the initiate in line with their ‘current of energy.’
Anyway, I’m not completely opposed to secrets. As Sara pointed out in the original post, sometimes it’s nice to know that your tradition does something in this one special way that no one else knows about. It can make that something all the more meaningful for the individual. It’s when secrecy starts to create power-over, when it starts to create cliques, and when it keeps genuine seekers from some sort of real or imagined spiritual growth that I have a problem with it. I suppose that’s a fine line, as well.
Jonah said,
February 13, 2007 at 4:19 pm
Sara,
Thanks for the book suggestions. I’ll probably buy them and then not read them for a year (since I have SO MANY FRIGGIN’ BOOKS TO READ as it is), but I’m sure I’ll enjoy them nonetheless.
Thalia said,
February 15, 2007 at 11:35 pm
Jonah said:
“There are a whole spectrum of types of initiations. Are you sworn off all of them? If you happen to be part of a progressive enough group, initiations can even occur at personally meaningful times for you, designed not as an induction into a secret society but as a rite of passage, an induction into the next big secret of your life. You can initiate yourself in such a way, to make a life change or a change in focus spiritually meaningful.”
Hmm, thinking about it, I guess I’m not too keen on “rites of passage” either! I’ve got no problems with a ritual to mark a certain life-change, since I think a lot of these passages go unremarked in our culture and (as antidote) it’s a good thing to acknowledge and live in that new space; the thing that’s getting me as I think about it is that that ritual has to originate with the person whose life has changed, not from others. I guess I think that most life-changes will to some extent acknowledge themselves in a person who is aware anyway though like I said above it is useful to ritually acknowledge them too. (In other words, since the event or change is itself the rite of passage, you don’t need an artificial one). But someone else (even like a High Priestess) coming up with the ritual and then imposing it on you? Even with a good friend whom I trust it just doesn’t feel right to me. But then I have serious problems with authority, conformity, and tradition for its own sake; not that I particularly rebel much, but I do not find these things worth holding in any esteem. (As an example, I could not bring myself to go to my high school graduation or prom; even in college I attended my graduation in the audience. This stuff just does not sit well with me on some fundamental level.)
The one sort of initiation I ever took part in was back several years ago when I legally changed my name. When it went through my coven did a little ritual in which they wrapped me up in colored crepe-paper and I had to rip it off as a sort of new born chick out of the shell whatever thing. As soon as they had me all wrapped up I was screaming to get out of there and started taking it off, but my High Priestess told me to think about it and make sure I was ready. So I waited a a moment or two just to please her, but seriously, I was already through that shell the moment I decided to change my name! How could I not be? It just seems so artificial and honestly, silly, really. (Though of course as I changed my name to “Thalia Took” I should really get out of the habit of using “silly” as a derogatory term!)
Thinking back on that ritual, there’s something about it that actually makes me very angry now, and I’m not sure what. Maybe it was my High Priestess assuming that she knew better than I did where I was spiritually? Or that her objection to letting the ritual she designed play out was more important than what I felt? Something just still does not feel right about that with me. And that High Priestess was, and still is, a good friend!
I would argue that initiation of any sort is inherently a power-over dynamic and can be nothing else. Maybe I am incapable of taking anything on faith? Or, perhaps more likely, I can’t trust it when someone else tells me to take something on faith, because the very fact that they’re telling me to take something on faith makes them suspect. Initiations or rites of passage just seem like a dressed-up form of hazing, at the root of them.
Quoting again:
“As Sara pointed out in the original post, sometimes it’s nice to know that your tradition does something in this one special way that no one else knows about. It can make that something all the more meaningful for the individual.”
“Special” is another one of those words that gets me all suspicious. If you’re used to the way one coven does things and then find yourself in another that does things differently, sure there’s a bit of a culture shock. But a tradition that’s “just for us”? Something does not smell right there to me, and I’m sorry I can’t be more specific. Maybe because there’s a faint whiff of elitism, or because it reminds me too much of a religion claiming it knows “the one true way”.
Seriously, though, I am not a cynical mistrustful person! I have a sense of humor, honest!