Remarks to the ECER 2023 in Riga Latvia

 On June 29-30, the European Congress of Ethnic Religions (ECER) met in Riga, Latvia. Here is the speech I gave at this gathering.

Hello.  I am very pleased to be with you today.  As most of you know, before the ECER there was the WCER (World Congress of Ethnic Religions).  I was at the first WCER  meeting in Vilnius in 1998 when it was initially called the WPC—the World Pagan Congress. I attended several meetings after that, in Athens in 2004 and Antwerp in 2005.  I am not a member of any ethnic religion or Pagan group, officially, but am a scholar with training in the history of Indian and Pagan European religions, who has had close relationships with the Asatru religion in Iceland, Romuva in Lithuania and Dievturi in Latvia, the last of which makes me especially happy to be here today.

In that first conference in 1998, we debated what name to use for the kind of religion we were involved with. The word “Pagan” was advanced as a way to indicate that we represent what came before Christianity in Europe and that we continue to suffer disrespect and suppression from Christian authorities. It was also mentioned that in modern times, Pagan often means a nature-oriented religion that allows for the worship of ancient gods. Others preferred “ethnic” as a way of indicating that the religious traditions under discussion were connected with particular places and peoples. Finally, the decision was made to accept the Ethnic Religion label as our official designation. I continue to prefer the term Pagan, so I ask you to forgive me if use this term today.

Today, as one of the only people here who was at the first meeting and who has what is now a long history of studying and supporting European Pagan or ethnic religions, I want to offer some thoughts on the future development of Paganism or ethnic religion in the years ahead.

Paganism reaches into the past to find spiritual meaning that can still be valid today.  We are thus all very concerned with preserving and protecting traditions from the past. However, all human life, all human culture, including religion, needs to evolve and develop.  If we look at any of the major world religions whether Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Islam or others we can see that these religions change over time, often involving a lot of debate and discussion about what to keep from the past, what to put aside as no longer useful or meaningful, and whether to develop new things.  Early Hinduism practiced animal sacrifice, but this was later abandoned, and now we often associate Hinduism with strict vegetarianism. The Buddha told his followers that he was not a god and not to worship him, but over the centuries, the Buddha has been worshipped like a god. Therefore, we who are Pagans or follow ethnic traditions grounded in the past should not feel constrained to only repeat what has been done in the past, especially considering the difficulty in actually knowing and recreating what exactly people did and believed a thousand or ten thousand years ago.  We have to be humble about the past, because we have never been there. We have never met our ancient ancestors. We only have limited information about the religion of the past. We can and should take inspiration from the past, but not be trapped by it. It is great to visit the museum, but who really wants to live there?

This actually opens great possibilities for development of European Pagan religions. From the beautiful fragments of the past that we find in archaeology, in folklore, and other sources, we can create new visions and practices, taking inspiration from the past, but also recognizing that we live in a changing world with many sources of information that were not available a thousand years ago. If someone wants to create new religious music that is computer-based and electronic, not played on a kokles or kankles, we should not reject this just because it is not a thousand years old or even a hundred. We should see if it has spiritual meaning that connects to people today, and if it helps the tradition speak to modern times and not only ancient.

One particular challenge we have today is that we live in societies of increasing diversity. This creates questions for Pagan or ethnic religions about who should be allowed to participate in our religious activities or to obtain membership in our organizations. Some would say this should only be people with the exact same ethnic identity as the original creators of the religious traditions that we honor. I think this is wrong on several levels. First of all, historians and archaeologists can tell us that people in the past were actually more diverse than we might think. Tribal identities were fluid and changeable, and people migrated, moved, and mixed a great deal. So, the people of the past may not fall into the kind of neat ethnic categories that some like to imagine. Second, to survive today, our religions must reflect the societies we live in, unless we want our religions to be hostile fortresses where we keep out outsiders and live in a mental world of paranoia and resentment., which can easily degenerate into outright racism and white power fantasies.  I think there is a better way, which is to focus on maintaining and developing sacred traditions, not obsessing over who is involved in the traditions. If a black person, an Asian or a Roma feels a sincere interest in becoming a Czech or a Greek or a Norwegian Pagan, why not let them in?  If they are willing to learn the traditions and practice them with deep sincerity, are they not at least equally deserving as some white person with the right kind of ethnic surname who may be of poor moral character, limited intelligence and not care at all about the tradition?  Pagan or ethnic religions do not have huge membership. They need to grow.  And accepting people of different ethnic and racial backgrounds is one way to do that.

Finally, I want to call on all of you to consider that in ancient Pagan or ethnic religions, nature is sacred.  I believe that one of the best ways for our religions to unify and to also have positive relations with other religions in the world is to dedicate ourselves to only worshipping nature, but protecting it. I believe it would be a very good thing for Pagans to be at the forefront of environmental action, to fight against pollution, climate change and the other severe problems affecting our earth. In this way, we show the world that we do not live in a museum. We live in the world and just as we honor and protect our ancient traditions and ancestors, we honor and protect the earth that is the mother of us all.

Thank you.

 

Solstice Meditations on the Fragility of Nature

Today, the day of the summer solstice, is a time to celebrate the beauty and vitality of nature, to bask in the rays of light and warmth reaching out to us all around the earth. In the Lithuanian Pagan solstice observance known as Rasos or Jonines, paralleled in the Latvian holiday of Ligo, and other similar festivities across Eastern Europe, Russia and Scandinavia, the peak of the nightlong celebration is the setting on fire of wagon wheels coated in pitch, which are rolled down hills to mimic the rolling or turning of the sun across the seasons. As there is only a brief time of darkness on the night of the summer solstice, owing to the phenomenon of the White Nights in the Northern European summer, the lighting of the wheel is meant to re-awaken the sun when it seems to have disappeared, however briefly, threatening darkness, chaos and death. Happily, the sun is soon again shining, and the cycle is complete.

The lighting of the wheel is a reminder that the ancients understood nature to be not only sacred and vital, but also fragile, in perpetual risk of destruction or disappearance. Whether you go out today or tonight to celebrate the solstice, or stay home due to the endless round of task and obligations that consume our lives like the darkness that swallows the sun each night, say a prayer or take a moment to contemplate how our modern way of life has threatened the continued vitality of nature like never before in human history. Let's take a note from the wisdom of the ancients, and remember that life is not just a quest for material consumption and social status. Life is also to be lived in, and with, nature, and that imposes a sacred obligation on us to not allow nature to be destroyed. Not by choking our air with automobile exhaust, not by blowing up mountains to burn more coal, not by ripping open the depths of the earth and ruining the water supply to scrape out more oil and gas, not by mining uranium to fuel unsafe nuclear power plants, not by islands of plastic garbage stifling the sea, and not by mountains of discarded electronics that poor children in Africa and elsewhere burn to separate the valuable bits to make more electronics to be discarded next year.

There are so many problems to be addressed in our unhealthy use of nature's resources, but the sun, who we Pagans salute on the solstice, contains one key to our planet's survival. The sun offers boundless energy that we can tap without destroying or desecrating our environment. Solar power is not a panacea to all that ails the earth and our relationship to it, but it is at least a partial solution to one piece of our environmental dilemma. Let's embrace that full-force and encourage our politicians to do the same!

May all hail the beauty, warmth and power of the sun.....!

May all remember our dependence on, and the fragility, of nature.....!

May all find the wisdom in their hearts to respect true and enduring values....!

Peace and plenty to you and yours on the solstice!

Nature, Art and Beauty: European Inspiration

Dear Friends,

On a recent visit to Europe which took me to Iceland, Sweden and the Czech Republic, with very enjoyable stops in Reykjavík, Stockholm, Prague and Brno, I met with members of Ásatrú and other Pagan movements as well. I found that many of the people I spoke with shared my concerns about certain tendencies in the American form of Norse Paganism such that I have often elaborated on this blog. Like me, they are not at all enthusiastic about a military-oriented Paganism, have no intense attachments to guns or other instruments of death, and absolutely understand the need to completely distance any viable modern Paganism that wants to be taken seriously from anything remotely racist or Nazi or neo-Nazi. I am sad to say this, but it is only when I break bread with my European Pagan brothers and sisters that I actually feel hope for Norse Paganism as a peaceful, inspirational spiritual path that is completely free of violence and hatefulness.



Since I have found it very hard to discuss, let alone reach agreement, with American Norse Pagans about the concerns and values that my European friends seem to quite readily understand, I have concluded that my natural spiritual home is probably not in the USA, but in Europe. I see America as a society heavily burdened, if not fatally flawed with a psychologically and spiritually destructive heritage of racism and violence, and this spills over into many products of our culture. Indeed, I do at times wonder about simply relocating to Europe, where in so many ways I feel more at home, but there are other things that tie me to America and will continue to do so for a good many years to come, such as a desire to do my little part to make the country a slightly better or at least less awful and mean-spirited place through my involvement in education. Also, there are practical considerations that would not make such a relocation an easy task to execute. As things stand, I expect to remain in America as an out-of-place, internationalized American for some years to come, and to continue to develop my spirituality in consultation with my European Pagan friends.

In this essay I will focus on explaining the inspiration I received on this trip. The inspiration was in fact of two sorts, one from nature, and one from art. In Iceland, with my old friend Baldur (an actual human being who is a father, husband and teacher, not the god who dies such a tragic, youthful death in Norse mythology!), it was the power of nature that most spoke to me.



I wanted to get out of the city to see mountains and rivers, and we drove north from Reykjavík one cold but clear Sunday.



As had first happened to me during my first sojourn in Iceland in 1996, I was absolutely bowled over by the raw power of nature as it is manifested in the Icelandic landscape.





Everywhere you turn there are mountains in the distance, rivers and streams cutting through the rough countryside, waterfalls rumbling, hot springs erupting,birds wheeling and screeching in the sky.





The wind is strong, the blue in the sky seems more vivid than in other places, and rocky hills and stone outcroppings are easy to understand as the dwellings of sacred beings.



I felt revived and renewed, and remembered that it was in Iceland that I first experienced Ásatrú in a beautiful outdoor ritual in which we gathered around a roaring fire in a stone circle framed by a towering mountain decorated from above by stars twinkling in a dark autumn sky.

The artistic inspiration grew out of both talking with Pagans in Iceland, Sweden and the Czech Republic, and observing my friends and their surroundings. I reflected on how important art is to Paganism, and how the best types of Pagan religion that I have come across have always had a highly developed artistic dimension. The first Ásatrú ritual I ever participated in in Iceland was totally suffused with art, from improvised music by skilled musicians, not just amateurs banging away on acoustic guitars, to a banner on which each person attending was invited to write or draw something of significance to them.

This artistic flair carries over into the leadership, or perhaps the reverse should be said, that the greatest Pagan leaders. in Iceland at least, have often been artists. The first leader of Icelandic Ásatrú, Sveinbjörn Beinteinsson, was a poet and singer who was open-minded enough to get on the stage in front of punk bands in the 1980s and recite traditional rímur poetry, though by this time he was a white bearded old man, not someone you would expect to be hanging around with punk musicians, let alone getting on stage with them.



The current high priest of the Ásatrúarféladið (Ásatrú Fellowship) in Iceland is a professional musician and composer, Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson, who has composed prize-winning film scores among other achievements, and recently released a CD with contemporary musical backing of the very rímur poetry that Sveinbjörn used to write and perform. The CD is called Stafnbúi on the 12 Tonar label, see http://www.12tonar.is/2012/21_steindor-hilmar-stafnbui.php .



Compare American Ásatrú, where two of the founding figures were both military men, Stephen McNallen and Valgard Murray. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and Icelandic Ásatrú accordingly took an artistic direction, and American Ásatrú a martial one. This is not to say that American Ásatrú is lacking in art, as there is a lot of poetry and music that can be found at such sites as http://www.odins-gift.com/index.html , but my own experience is that the artistic impulse is overshadowed by war-related elements. I would be curious if readers know of other examples of artistic contributions playing a major role in Paganism.



In Sweden, two of the leaders of the Swedish Ásatrú group that I know in Stockholm are artists, one a musician and photographer, the other a sculptor.



I am not aware of any of the Pagans I know in the Czech Republic being artists,per se, but one of the places we met, a lovely teahouse in the Castle district in Prague called Čajový klub „Duhovka.“

http://www.duhovka.eu .

.

The Duhovka had a very artistic, bohemian atmosphere. And why shouldn't it be bohemian? The Czechs were the original Bohemians, you see, and Bohemia is the name of one of the Czech regions.





In Lithuania and Latvia, folk musicians have led the way in the most vibrant modern Pagan movements there, such as Lithuanian Romuva, led by the skilled folk singers Jonas and Inija Trinkūnas and their folk ensemble Kūlgrinda.



See http://www.last.fm/music/Kūlgrinda .

Most of the artistic Pagans I know in Iceland and Europe have little interest in war and weapons. Their eyes and art look toward nature and beauty, not anger and death. However, here I must contradict myself. There is another branch of Norse Paganism-inspired music in Europe that does celebrate weapons, war, anger and aggression, this being Pagan-related "death metal" heavy metal music. It is not to my taste, but it certainly has its fans. Taking this into account complicates the nice binary opposition I was speaking of earlier. It requires me to say that yes, there are also things in European Paganism that I do not like! However, I tend to think that this kind of music appeals mainly to young people, and I would speculate that as they mature in both life and spirituality, they will not look at this music the same way anymore. If some grizzled death metal fan in their sixties wants to write in and tell me I am wrong, that they still start and end the day headbanging and chanting angry death lyrics like they did when they were 16 or 22, that is fine!

Age, that is, a person's position in the unstoppable life-cycle, is indeed something to consider. I am 53, closer to old age than to youth, and perhaps some of my preferences and perspectives are rooted in my own aging process. I seek beauty, calm and inspiration in nature, and hope for a form of Paganism that is in tune with those needs and aspirations. Perhaps younger men and women need different things, more angry, energetic and expressive of the stormy passions of youth.

Be that as it may, I also think of this in a broader frame, beyond a strictly Pagan context. Look at any great religious tradition, from Christianity to Judaism to Buddhism to any other, and you will find that art has played a key role in the development, propagation and perpetuation of that religion. In Prague, I stopped into a former medieval convent, now a museum, displaying Czech Christian art. See http://www.avantgarde-prague.com/prague-guide/things-to-see-in-prague/museums/convent-of-st-agnes/ The artwork was overwhelming in its concentrated force of expression. I have had the same experience contemplating ancient Hindu or Buddhist or Greek art. The articulation of religious themes and sensibilities through art is one of the secrets of success to any of the world's most well-known and respected religions. In contrast, there has never been a religion that ever became great or long-lasting simply by celebrating war and martial valor. That makes good patriotic propaganda, but its artistic merit may be limited. I believe the same will apply to Paganism, whether Ásatrú or other types. In the end, whoever comes up with the most profound, powerful and enticing religious art, in whatever media, will also be the ones to create the most enduring and important forms of modern Paganism. So, while some might call for warriors to take up arms, I call on poets to take up their lexicons, painters, their brushes, and sculptors, their clay. Express your spirituality through the most beautiful art you can muster, and we will all be the richer for it!

A Pagan Walks into a Synagogue...

Long-time readers of this blog, as opposed to accidental victims led here against their will, may recall that on several occasions I have mused about connections, whether contrasts or commonalities, between Judaism and Paganism. This entry is a further walk down this path. It may also provide a bit of instruction in Jewish history for those who may not be well-acquainted with this topic. It's also nice to have a way to ward off any truly right-wing Pagans or anti-Semitic neo-Nazi types, for whom I would imagine a sympathetic discussion of Judaism has the same effect as a silver crucifix wrapped in garlic has on a vampire!

On Friday evening, 22nd of February, I was a guest speaker at a synagogue in a town not too far from where I live in New York State. I took the opportunity to speak about some topics that I have been researching and writing about for the last several years for my hopefully-someday-to-be-finished book about religious diversity in Eastern Europe. I focused on two very strange, fascinating and indeed troubling characters from Jewish history, the so-called "false messiahs" Shabbetai Zevi and Jacob Frank. Both men claimed to be the long awaited Jewish messiah, Zevi in Turkey in the 17th century, Frank in Poland in the 18th, but asserted a path to Jewish salvation that involved massive diversion, if not perversion, of many of the standard forms of Jewish life. Though simply narrating their weird careers as Jewish leaders of essentially anti-Jewish movements that attracted thousands of followers and caused massive headaches for both the Ottoman Empire and the Kingdom of Poland-Lithuania would have probably been quite enough, I wanted to sketch out both the historical and religious-ideational backgrounds of these renegade religious movements, and also discuss the various ways in which these movements influenced or paralleled other modern Jewish movements from Hasidism to the "Jewish Enlightenment" Haskalah, as well as foreshadowing the French Revolution in certain ways. I even spoke a bit about the Kabbalah as one of the main inspirations for Zevi and Frank.

I then went on to talk about some of my impressions of Jewish life and culture in Eastern Europe, explaining how my slowly growing awareness of the Jewish culture of the past in places like Budapest as well as my encounters with ugly flashes of anti-Semitism in Siauliai had inspired me to want to know more about the Jewish side of Eastern European history, resulting in my decision to write a book not only about Eastern European Paganism, which would have been relatively easy for me, as this has been my major research area for some years, but about Judaism as well, in an attempt to arrive at an overview of the diversity of Eastern European religious life beyond the stereotyped assumption of total Christian dominance, as in the usual description of Poland as a "Catholic country," for example.

It ended up being a rather lengthy talk that I gave, definitely a bit TOO long for one tough old lady in the congregation, who approached me later in the evening to teasingly scold me, saying she felt like standing up and yelling "SHUT UP!" at me. However, the reaction was very positive overall, not least from the rabbi, who praised me for getting at the heart of some very important issues in a way that reminded her of her past graduate studies during her rabbinical training. Other members of the congregation approached me to thank me for a stimulating talk. I stayed for the Friday evening Shabbat dinner and had friendly conversations with a very nice group of people. I was very moved, especially by the words of appreciation from the rabbi, as I have been working on this research and thinking in almost total isolation for the last three years. I have really had no one to discuss these things with, other than engaging in imaginary conversations with the authors of the books and articles that I have been collecting. It was therefore extremely gratifying to not only not be laughed out of the temple, so to speak, but to hear people of the faith that I have been exploring tell me that I was on the right track with many of my perceptions and interpretations.

I also attended the evening religious service, and found that quite meaningful and moving as well. Much of the liturgy was focused on imploring the God of the Jews to continue to provide for the welfare and protection of the people of the nation of Israel, and calling on the sons and daughters of Israel to keep faith with their God. This might be seen as a narrow, tribal focus from some points of view. However, at this stage in my life, differences and dividing lines are much less important to me than areas of common ground and expressions of shared yearning and common purpose, and I find my ears increasingly tuned to the universal dimensions of any religious message. I therefore hear the call to the people of Israel as echoing a universal call to all people of all religious and ethnic backgrounds to seek holiness and betterment, and I find nothing strange or alienating in that. This also has interesting implications for my occasional arguments with Norse Pagans who want to make modern-day Norse Paganism into a strictly ethnic, "Northern European" faith, which I and others disagree with, preferring that this be a more universal faith open to any people of any background anywhere.

The alternation between mostly English-translated and Hebrew-original texts in the service also made me think that for Norse or other Pagans in America or other English-language countries, some similar accommodation between modern and ancient language is a pragmatic solution. To speak of the two types of Paganism that I have been most involved with, I could envision Norse Pagans studying Old Norse for reading and prayer purposes, or Lithuanian American Pagans studying Lithuanian, the way young Jewish boys and girls are herded into Hebrew classes, to their childish frustration but their adult pride and satisfaction.

Of course, modern Pagans have a LONG way to go if they want to have any kind of liturgy to match that of Judaism or other long-established religions. This is in fact half the reason why some would-be Pagans give up on Paganism and go back to traditional faiths, whatever their reservations or private differences might be with the faith traditions that they choose to join or rejoin. It is certainly nice to plug right into something that has been long-established and well-worked out, as opposed to something that is forever under construction and endlessly argued over, as is the case with much of the Paganism that I have known!

The evening service included the singing of certain passages by both the rabbi and the congregation, and this was very pleasing to me. My Eastern European journeys have acquainted me with klezmer and other forms of Jewish music, including the experimental Jewish jazz of that mad New York City mystic, John Zorn, that I have developed a warm appreciation for alongside other types of Eastern European folk music from the Baltic to the Balkans. There are certain styles and melodies of Jewish music that really touch my heart. Those damned Jewish musicians, they really know how to rip your heart out with an aching violin and a haunting melody! In the synagogue, I could feel more clearly how more contemporary forms of Jewish music like klezmer are outgrowths of the ancient Hebrew melodies and singing styles.

So, this was a very special evening for me. I feel I made some new friends and feel a new sense of kinship with Judaism--in my own way, of course. "My own way" does not however extend to wanting to imitate Shabbetai Zevi or Jacob Frank in developing a new form of Judaism!

But what about a new form of Paganism? That is something to think about and discuss... In fact, since all of our modern types of Paganism are really quite new entities, despite the older traditions that we draw upon, I would argue that "new forms of Paganism" is the only thing we are ever talking about!

Question: When do Jews get to dress up like Pagans and have a bit of carnival-esque fun?

Answer... Happy Purim! (Today: Saturday, February 23).

Pagan-Jewish Parallels

I have been researching Eastern European Jewish history this summer, and this has led me to reflect on some possible Pagan-Jewish parallels. No, I am not making a claim that the ancient Pagans of this or that region of Europe were one of the legendary lost tribes of Israel that made a wrong turn in the Mediterranean and ended up in Stonehenge or Uppsala. Nothing like that! Instead, what I have been contemplating is how the complicated status of Judaism and Jewishness as both religion and ethnic identity provides an interesting mirror to the status of Ethnic Reconstructionist Paganism as both a form of religion or spirituality AND an adaptation of particular ethnic traditions of particular European regions. Let me take you through some of the areas of correspondence that I have been considering between Paganism and Judaism, and also demonstrate that some of the areas of absolute difference between Paganism and Judaism may not quite be so absolute as is often believed.

1. Both Jews and Pagans follow religious traditions rooted in a particular place or "holy land." Even when followers of these traditions find themselves very far away, the original place of their religion's development remains sacred and meaningful. All the long centuries after the Roman Empire's crushing of the original Jewish kingdom in ancient times, Jews continued to regard Palestine as their sacred homeland, up to the development of a modern Jewish state, Israel. The Pagan parallel involves Pagans living outside of Europe in such places as the United States and Australia continuing to regard the area in Europe in which their religious tradition first developed, such as Lithuania for Romuva believers, Ireland for Celtic Pagans, Scandinavia for Norse Pagans, and so on. Travel to the homeland is a powerful spiritual experience for Pagans, as is visiting Israel for Jews.

2. The corollary of the love of a spiritual homeland is the sense of exile and loss, which is again common to both Jews and Pagans.

3. The language of the original homeland is likewise valued as sacred,with Hebrew for the Jews; European languages related to particular European regions for Pagans. Both Jews outside of Israel and Pagans living outside of Europe struggle to acquire and maintain knowledge of these languages.

4. In both Jewish mysticism and some forms of European Paganism, the ancient script,indeed the very letters and symbols of the sacred language is seen as possessing magical, divinely inspired powers. Compare the Kabbalistic view of the magical powers of Hebrew letters with the significance that Norse Pagans invest in the ancient Germanic runes. Other Pagans such as Celts, Balts and Slavs also tend to regard their earliest forms of writing as possessing sacredness and possibly magical power.

5. Both Jews and Pagans have a range of views about who is qualified to claim identity as a member of these religions. All Jewish denominations see birth from Jewish parents, with priority on a Jewish mother, as a legitimate qualification for Jewish identity. Some sects see having a Jewish father as sufficient. Most Jewish sects allow conversion to Judaism by people not born Jewish, with different rules as to how conversion is to be carried out. Among European ethnic Pagans, there is an ongoing discussion about whether and to what extent a family ancestral link to the European spiritual homeland is an important qualification for membership in a Pagan community. Most forms of ethnic Paganism allow those without an ancestral link to participate in their religious activities, but there is often a preference and privileging of those with ancestral links, though this is not always explicitly stated. There are also some ethnic Pagans who insist on ancestry as a necessary factor for inclusion in the community. Just as Jews have long debated and disagreed about these issues, Pagans are likely to do the same. I myself would advocate for totally open conversion without preference to, or prejudice against, ethnic background, but I am well aware that others have quite different and even opposite opinions!

6. Jewish communities in Eastern European history were often segregated to greater or lesser extent, though this was rarely a total sealing off of Jews from contact with non-Jews. It can be argued that this segregation helped to maintain Jewish identity and foster the development of distinct Eastern European traditions such as Hasidism. Though most if not all Pagans today live in mixed, pluralistic societies, I have on a number of occasions met Pagans who would like to live in a more segregated manner, in tight-knit Pagan communities that would be distinct and separate, though not totally sealed off, from mainstream, Christian-dominant society. Some Pagans create temporary communities in the summer months, whether camping out together at festivals, or constructing an intentionally archaic, folkloric village, as the leaders of Romuva have done in Lithuania. I wonder, will we see Pagan versions of shtetls and ghettos in the future?

7. The sacredness of nature is common to both Paganism and Judaism. While this may be more obvious and central in Pagan traditions, Judaism is replete with nature symbolism. Jewish festivals such as Sukkoth and Shavuot are essentially agricultural festivals, celebrating the fertility of the earth. The Old Testament and the Kabbalah both utilize trees as sacred symbols. To take up the contrary view, one that has become rather conventional among Pagans, the argument is sometimes made that Judaism is un-natural and anti-natural insofar as it involves the desire of God that mankind will subjugate and dominate all other creatures, whereas Paganism supposedly involves a more reverent attitude of harmony with nature. I think this difference is overstated. Most Pagan traditions are grounded in an agricultural lifestyle which also involves a domination and subjugation of animals and the natural world. Even if the natural world is highly respected and honored as sacred, it is still subjugated and dominated by mankind in any form of European-derived Paganism I know of. Judaism is also sometimes criticized by Pagans as a religion of the desert, but let us not forget that the Holy, Promised Land of the Bible is the "land of milk and honey," not a wasteland but a fertile land conducive to animal breeding and agriculture, much like Old World Europe.

8. But what about the fundamental difference between Judaism as a monotheistic faith and Paganism as a polytheistic worldview? I would not deny that this is a real difference, but I would also note that there are some monotheistic tendencies in Paganism just as there are polytheistic ones in Judaism. Greek Pagan philosophy moved toward a conception of the One behind the Many, and Norse mythology describes Odin as the All-father, and speaks of some sort of One greater than the gods arising after the world-destruction of Ragnarok. Judaism contains angels, which are arguably divine beings, certainly greater-than-mortal, and the Kabbalah has multiple powers and beings that are also greater-than-human, notably the Shekhinah, a female personification of the Jewish nation that looks a lot like a Jewish goddess. There are also the rejected goddess (or demoness) figures like Lilith in the Old Testament.

I would therefore argue that there are a good many parallels between Paganism and Judaism that are well worth pondering. I believe that open-minded Jews and Pagans can find a certain amount of common ground, if they wish to.

Spiritual Indecision...Or Do You Call It Pluralism?

A fair number of comments to this blog have raised provocative questions and heartfelt concerns about the linkage between ethnicity, including the problematic concept of "race," and Pagan spiritual traditions in much of modern-day Paganism or neo-Paganism. This is something I have also struggled with, and I am not yet sure who or what has won the struggle!

I have divided loyalties between two different European Pagan traditions, the Norse or Nordic Paganism of Iceland and Scandinavia, and the Baltic Paganism of Lithuania and Latvia. I have Czech and Lithuanian ancestry, but was exposed to Norse mythology at an early age--I am not ashamed to admit it was through the comic book "The Mighty Thor!!"--but always felt a great curiosity about Lithuania, from dribs and drabs that my mother would relate to us, based on her mother's recollections of her childhood in Lithuania in the early 20th century. In undergraduate college, I did a research paper on Nazi appropriations of Norse mythology--highly ironic as I am now working on a somewhat higher level research paper on the same topic that I hope to publish in a scholarly journal like "Nova Religio" or "The Pomegranate." When I started graduate school in the mid-1980s, I made Norse Mythology one of my areas of study. This carried on with study of the Old Norse language at the University of Wisconsin at the end of that decade, and led me to obtain a Fulbright Fellowship at the University of Iceland in the mid-1990s, which led to participation in Asatru Fellowship activities in the Reykjavik area, and continuing connections with Iceland and Asatru.

However, the same year that I went to Iceland, I also went to Lithuania, where I came to know Jonas and Inija Trinkunas, the husband and wife leaders of the Lithuanian Pagan group Romuva. This led to further visits in 1998 and 2002. A bit later, after teaching in Japan several years, I scored a second Fulbright Fellowship to teach at Siauliai University in Lithuania from fall of 2004 to spring of 2005, and was once more highly impressed by Lithuanian spirituality, but also frustrated at my inability to learn the Lithuanian language, which was really necessary for me to fully participate in Romuva.

I came back to the USA in 2005 with a pragmatic sense that I would henceforth concentrate on forging links with people involved in Nordic Paganism, largely because it was more accessible with most of the materials being translated into English, with several generations of Asatru in America having developed a workable American version of Nordic Paganism. However, I still feel connected to Lithuania and Romuva, and do not by any means renounce my ties to them. (Hey, what's the point of being polytheistic if you can't be pluralistic?) I see the traditions as kindred branches of the Indo-European spiritual tree, anyway, with Perkunas being the Lithuanian version of Thor, and Velnias being the Lithuanian version of Odin, and the Lithuanian World Tree being no less of a vivid symbol of interconnectedness between mankind and nature than Yggdrasil in Norse mythology. In many ways, I see myself as an Indo-Europeanist, which also allows me to feel at home in other related spiritual traditions like Hinduism.

However, I am such a shameless spiritual slut, or religious eclectic, anyway, that I cannot really accept being walled off from other traditions that appeal and make sense to me. Having lived in Japan from 1999-2004, I am very appreciative of Shinto, which of all religions I have known, is the one whose closeness to nature has most impressed me. When I pray to my various gods, spirits and ancestors, I often bow and clap my hands twice, Shinto-style, and I do not imagine that Odin or whoever else I am addressing feels slighted by this elegant and respectful gesture. Furthermore, my analytical mind tells me that all names and forms of the "divine" (or whatever you want to call It) are just provisional place markers to help the human psyche reach out to something beyond yet deep within itself; however, I find certain god-images and personalities emotionally moving. And, at the risk of sounding ridiculous--and I can assure you I am not saying this in a flippant way--I like the fact that in religion, we can return to the child in us who enjoys playing with dolls and toy figures. I think that play is actually highly significant.

An acquaintance of mine in Sweden made a very pertinent point about this kind of eclecticism. He told me that he likes to worship the Scandinavian goddess Freyja, and has also taught his daughter to do the same, but that if she were to decide to instead worship the Greek goddess Diana, he would not have a problem with it, as he sees them as ultimately meaning very much the same thing. However, he would PREFER that she worship Freyja, as this would be more in keeping with their particular cultural and ethnic context, but he would not insist on it. I think that is a lovely attitude, and I am grateful to him for sharing that.