What a great time I’ve chosen to break my news fast.
When horrific tragedies like that at Virginia tech happen, it takes me a day or two to even process the information. I become overwhelmed. I wonder about the kind of fallout we as a people experience and will experience as the corporate emotional cost of reeling from this kind of tragedy after tragedy builds in us as a society. As always – I move towards questions about the way faith dances in the world, even its dans macabre.
How do we, as Pagans, respond to horror? We are a path determined to celebrate ecstasy (at least, this is my impression/opinion, which is, as ever, perhaps mine alone), which is a critical piece to keep alive in a world where many other religions seem to me to be focused heavily on images of redemption (which necessitate something to be redeemed/saved from), images of tragedy, grief, and the way in which religion acts as a solace in those instances. I think solace is critical as well, but not at the expense of celebrating the glory of life on our green planet, or the precious ecstasy of our embodied being. The key, of course, is to find ways to appeal to both of these critical pieces – to find joy without ignoring the needs of the grieving, and to grieve without ignoring opportunities for joy. Christianity seems pretty on the spot when dealing with times that try our souls and minds – churches organize almost instantaneously to offer opportunities for communities to come together and share tears, prayers, just being with others in grief. We Pagani are simply less organized, less willing maybe, or perhaps just at a loss as what to do as a religious people when these situations arise. As Hecate points out, the disorganization on our parts as Pagans is one of our more endearing qualities to me as well, yet, like Hecate, I wonder that we do not do more, and wonder why we do seem to de-emphasize questions of how we might respond religiously to these events.
Ultimately, again, my faith is about celebration and ecstasy. I do feel that we focus on these aspects of religion as a society so rarely that I think our contribution to religious thought in this manner is absolutely critical and we should not ever lose our focus here. Yet. Yet. There is always and forever the matter of authenticity – and no religion can claim authenticity that denies a piece of the complex nature of being who and where we are. To pray out horror, to learn to cry out in rage and sadness and grief – these are fundamental. We cannot be brothers and sisters in the Holy Order of Hystericals without them.
I may not be articulating well today. My numbness has not yet shifted. I can only hold those families and friends of the many dead in my prayers to the Mama. I can only wonder and fear and rage and cry and love whom I love with a fierceness.
Cat Chapin-Bishop said,
April 17, 2007 at 10:07 pm
My experience of Pagan responses to horror is definately shaped by my association with many longtime Pagans. I’m thinking in particular of the ways the Pagan communities I am part of responded to the events of September 11, 2001. (An essay I wrote that reflects on my response at that time, and gave some ideas on caring for one another in times of tragedy, is online here, if you are interested.)
One large, private group I am a part of, which contains a high proportion of New Yorkers, came together with particular intensity that year; I felt priviledged to be part of that caring community. Another group I was then connected with, the faculty and students of Cherry Hill Seminary, worked very hard to support one another as clergy as well as our local communities, in dealing with the aftershocks of that terrible day. And, closest to home, the members of many of the covens of my local council of the Covenant of the Goddess _did_ come together for a spontaneous vigil.
I know that we are still growing and developing as a religion and as a culture. But, for the new kid on the block, I think we’re actually doing OK. Truth to tell, even the big kids are hurting today. (In the aftermath of 9/11, I became a Quaker as well as a Pagan; Quaker bloggers today are also feeling the pain and asking what we can do to change a world gone so mad.)
Pagans is about celebration and ecstasy–but remember ecstasy isn’t just about happiness; it’s about getting beyond our everyday selves, into visions of greater wholeness. Yes, we dance around a Maypole (to cite Wiccan practice, for one example of Pagan ways), and our Goddess brings back summer and flowers. But we also understand that She has traveled through the Underworld, and we embrace the dark half of the Wheel as well as the light. There is room to pray out our horror. Grief and compassion are Hers, too.