Quaker tradition is rooted in, incontrovertibly
derives from, Christian tradition. Much of our traditional language
was alien to Christians of the time, but likewise much of it was
reassuring and familiar, and many Quaker concepts derive directly
from biblical sources – albeit rather unconventional
interpretations of them. However, especially in the liberal branch of
the worldwide Quaker family, we have also added insights, ideas and
language from other traditions. Those that, in my experience, have
most permeated British Quakerism in terms of language would be from
Buddhism. “Mindful”, and words related to it, would seem a key
example; these seem to drop from Quaker lips as readily as Christian
references, and the practice of mindfulness has Buddhist roots, as
well as being very much in vogue in the world of mental health and
well-being. Other south Asian traditions get a look in as well, and
there's a fair amount of non-specific nature-worship related ideas
and language as well.
In this post, however, I will be focussing on the
idea of pantheon-based faiths, and what we could draw from them. This
isn't an area I hear or read much about in Quaker thought, but it
often comes to mind for me. Of course, I live with someone who was
massively into ancient Greek and Roman (mostly Roman) culture and
mythology when she was a kid, and I have many friends and
acquaintances who identify with or practice various neo-pagan faiths,
so that may not be a surprise.
This is going to get a bit rambling, but please
bear with me – it does all come around to add up to something in
the end.
Modern paganism, often referred to as neopaganism
(though not always by the practitioners, more on which below), is
extremely varied. There are named traditions, which may or may not
have a formal organisation or two behind them, and there are many
practitioners whose practice does not entirely match any of the named
traditions. There are those that claim to be authentic continuations
of pre-Christian practices, and others that only claim to be
reconstructions or syncretic creations based on such practices; yet
others make no claim to historical authenticity of any sort. As such,
some work with pantheons, and others don't. Pantheons that are used
in recognised, named traditions include those of northern Europe,
also known as the Norse or Germanic pantheon, those of Ancient
Greece, and those of ancient Egypt. Names for such traditions include
Asatru, the Northern Tradition, or Heathenry (for the Germanic
pantheon), Hellenism, and Kemetism. Meanwhile, the most well-known
forms of Wicca are focussed on only 2 divine figures, the God and the
Goddess – and often largely focus on the Goddess, especially in
Feminist Wicca, although many practitioners find it useful (or
essential) to bring in figures from various pantheons. In Druidry,
attitudes to the idea of gods are very varied, though
cross-pollination with other forms of neopaganism lead to many
recognisable forms. Druids may be focussed on “worship” of
nameless nature spirits, ancestors, a Wiccan-style Goddess, or a
traditional pantheon (often an Irish or otherwise Celtic pantheon).
The term “neopagan” refers to the fact that
the faiths are generally considered, by those outside the faiths, to
be modern creations based on often limited understandings of ancient
practices. Those practicing Hellenism are perhaps the most likely to
insist that they are not a modern creation, but rather an authentic
revival of ancient practices, though you will find adherents of all
groups making such claims. Critics tend to be sceptical of these
claims. For me personally, I don't think it matters a great deal
either way; authentic spiritual experience does not depend on
authentic reproduction of any particular practice, but rather
following the path the Spirit opens to you, and the sincerity of the
many pagans I have known (and perhaps the pagan elements of my own
belief and experience) lead me to think that the Spirit is with these
people in their practices. As such, while studies of comparative
religion will often refer to these beliefs, practices and experiences
as neopagan, I'll just stick to “pagan”.
Of course, it is not only European paganism in
which we find modern experience of pantheons. The Hindu faith has an
extensive pantheon, though referring to the figures of the pantheon
as separate gods reveals, I understand, something of a disconnect
between western language and thought and that indigenous to south
Asia. All of the gods are, in a sense, aspects of Brahman, the
ultimate reality and godhead of Hindu belief. They epitomise concept
of behaviour, ability, preference and so forth, and in a very real
sense may be seen as archetypes – but archetypes that their
mythology has seen incarnated as avatars, and archetypes that have a
structure of relationship with one another, and with other figures of
mythology. Trying to constrain Hindu thought to ways of thinking that
come readily to most cultural Europeans inevitably loses a great deal
of sense and meaning.
So, that's a whistle-stop tour of some modern
faiths that feature pantheons. What, analytically speaking, is the
role of these pantheons in the actual practice of these faiths? I'm
not a formal student of comparative religion, so I can't speak about
this with authority. I can, however, summarise some of the roles I've
seen or heard of in my own reading and, more importantly, in my own
conversations with practitioners of various faiths.
Some see the figures of the gods of their pantheon
as literally existing, as having their own agendas, and as
interacting with one another and with the world as we know it; in
summary, that they behave as theistic deities. Others see them as
embodiments of ideas, or ideals; as archetypes that are useful in
their practice. For example, a pagan who believes in practical magic
might invoke a deity appropriate to their current working; in doing
so, they may literally believe there is a supernatural being that
they are inviting to assist them, or they may believe that they
better focus their mind and energies but dwelling on the figure –
or perhaps both!
How, then, can Quakers make use of such ideas in
our own practice. If a given Friend believes in the more-or-less
literal existence of a pantheon of deities, obviously their own
prayer and discernment can invoke them, and if they believe in
practical magic they may make use of them in the ways described
above. However, it would seem that most Friends, even limiting it to
liberal Friends, don't believe in or experience either of those
things – or at least, wouldn't recognise them as things they
believe in, more on which later.
So, for the presumed majority of liberal Quakers
who don't believe in actual reality of multiple deities,
pantheon-style, and who don't believe in imposing one's will on the
world by ritual or mental exercises that might be called magic, what
can we take from the idea of pantheons, and integrate them into our
practice and experience?
Well, the example of modern pagans and other
polytheists does show us a key form of conception and usage of
pantheons beyond the literal, as already mentioned above. They are
concepts, archetypes, ideas and ideals. In essence, they can fill the
same role as stories. We use stories to shape our thoughts and to
communicate. We dwell on the meaning of the story of Penn's Sword,
and how it relates to our own experience, our aspirations and
failings. We use bible stories, or the stories of famous Quakers.
Maybe some day many people will use some of the stories
told in my own written ministry.
The figures of traditional pantheons are not
simply a collection of characteristics and areas of dominion. They
are also part of intertwined sets of stories, such as when Thor,
unable to persuade Freyja to go to the a Giant who had stolen his
hammer, as if offering herself in marriage, had to go dressed as a
woman in her stead (much to his own chagrin, and the apparent
amusement of Loki). Then there's the story of Hermes, in which,
having been born that morning, he invented the lyre (having spotted a
tortoise and gotten the idea; I do wonder about the poor tortoise
itself), stole Apollo's herd of cattle, been caught, protested his
innocence, and eventually makes up with Apollo by giving him the
lyre. More than that, each of them in themselves has characteristics
of story beyond simply the set of stories they feature in. They have
depth, morality and lessons woven into the very fabric of the
conceptual existence.
So, we can use the language of gods and pantheons
to communicate ideas, at least with those we share them with – but
then, any such stories and language are hard to assume that people
share, these days. I recently heard ministry referring to the spirit
that came upon the disciples in the upstairs room; if I hadn't
happened to read that recently for entirely separate reasons, I would
have had no idea what the Friend was referring to – though I might
have got it from context eventually. We can also each use them
internally, to try to find new ways of exploring and conceptualising
our individual experiences. We can use them as another thing to
reflect on as we try to comprehend the Spirit, and what it is urging
us towards.
We can even use them for the nearest typical
Quaker practice comes to magic. It's also generally the nearest a lot
of Quakers come to intercessory prayer. However it is you conceive of
it, most liberal Friends will speak of holding others in the Light.
It is what you do when someone is struggling, when someone is scared,
when someone has to do something they find challenging. When they are
injured, ill, or distressed. It's a glib phrase that trips off our
tongues readily, but – in line with our tendency to brush our
differences in belief and experience under the carpet – we rarely
talk about what we each mean by it. But what we all mean is that we
are doing something by which we hope to, in some way, effect a change
in the outcome. Those who believe in one or more deities might be
asking it to intervene, but like magic-working pagans who do not
believe in the literal truth of their pantheons, those of us who do
not believe in one or more gods might use the mental and social
“shape” of a specialised god from a pantheon to shape
whatever-it-is-we're-doing to focus on the sort of outcome we wish to
promote. Apollo for healing, Ganesha for learning and earned
prosperity, or Urðr to help someone find the right path forward in
their life. That doesn't mean we necessarily believe in the existence
of these deities, or are praying to them to intervene, but, by
knowing them and their stories, we use them to focus ourselves in
whatever-it-is-we-do when we hold someone in the light.
If you don't want to use gods in this way, or
learn enough about them for it to be meaningful, perhaps you might
think in terms of more psychological or narratological archetypes.
The hero, the scholar, the father. Make your own pantheon, if that
helps.
Have you ever made use of pantheons in such ways?
Do you think you might experiment with pantheons or archetypes in
your spiritual practice now? Why not sure your experience in the
comments, and we can all learn together.
Follow-up posts to this can be found under the Pantheons and Archetypes label
