Do Good Work.

Where we're coming from

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:53:12 GMT

I'm currently reading a book called "Why Bother? Getting a Life in a Locked-Down Land", by Sam Smith. It's about the perceived loss of individualism and individual power in American society, which is deeply interesting stuff, but not particularly relevant to the topic of this post. The thing that is relevant to the topic of this post is that in one section of the book that deals with the place of religion in society, and particularly, the role of religion in creating positive change, Smith throws out a little side comment to the effect that he was grounded in the work of societal change and the movement towards freedom by his parents, who were involved in the Labor movement and several other cause-oriented movements. It seems to me that any time I read anybody on the subject of creating social change, they talk about how their parents were involved in the peace movement, the civil rights movement, and so on. It makes sense that people who grow up in an environment dedicated to creating change should take in some portion of that dedication to action, even if the issues the younger generation works for are not the causes of the older.

I can't lay claim to any such grounding in social action from my family. My parents, having grown up poor and worked their way up to the middle class, are suspicious of altruism. They were, at first, eager to fit in with their new social class, and impressed upon me the value of conformity and competition. They are deeply interested in What People Will Think. My grandparents, who grew up poor and remained poor, are more inclined to share, but they too are disinterested in change at a society-wide level. They are, however, the sort of people who would do anything for you, which is worth quite a bit to me in the good example department. And, in the interest of fairness, my parents are becoming more socially aware as they age. At some point after I had grown up and left the house, my dad, who is a critical care nurse, got deeply involved with the project of unionizing nurses in his state, mostly in the interest of maintaining adequate staffing patterns for patient care. My mother takes in feral cats and pays for the cost of spaying and neutering, assists in a local animal shelter, and is interested in alternative energy. They're currently serving as an excellent example of how people can move from a place of self-interest to a place of service. My parents' causes are all fights that have potential benefit to them, in addition to any side social benefits, and that's fine by me.

It makes me think, too, about the place of pagans in social action. What grounding do we have in working for change? Where does it come from? What values do we hold that could or should be expressed by a commitment to service or activism? Of course, there are as many different answers to those questions as there are pagans - one of the beautiful things about living a pagan faith is that we have a good deal of freedom in selecting which values we will uphold and what commitments we will make as people of faith.

Some of us work in a faith tradition that comes through the Reclaiming movement, which comes with a commitment to feminism and ecology work, among other causes. The place of service in that sort of pagan faith is clear. That sort of pagan, as a person of some degree of enlightenment, ought to work to make the world a better place because they are able to see the world's problems in a way that others can't or don't. The work is part of the price of that ability to see.

Some of us practice reconstructed traditions like Heathenry or Druidry. When we take up that sort of faith, we inherit the values of the culture we reconstruct, which often comes with an obligation to the betterment of the tribe and the community. Those faiths often provide their adherents with a list of virtues or values that the individual should profess and uphold. The virtues vary by tradition, but they're a clear and present part of the faith. You might argue with a co-religionist about the meaning of, say, Hospitality, and how one might best practice that virtue, but if you're an ADF druid, you have to be aware that Hospitality is on your to-do list, and you're going to have to engage with it at some level.

I originally came to paganism through British Traditional Wicca. The motivation to service in that tradition is simple on the surface: the Three-Fold Law states that whatever we send out, we get back three-fold. I help another person, other people will help me. If you've ever helped friends move, you'll probably have noticed that this principle does not require a supernatural agency to enforce it -- once you've moved a couple of people, when it's your turn to move, some of those folks will show up with their buddies to help. It's a bit more like my parents' approach to service, in which you give because it benefits you as well as others, but as I said above, I'm fine with that. Wicca also has some built-in issue focus: it calls for support of causes that see the sexes as equals, because that's the structure of the coven. It calls for support of ecological causes, because of its identification of the Earth as Mother, and the fact that, hey, if the seasons go all crazy, your whole ritual year is off its tilt. Also, being basically a fertility religion, it's big on abundance and having enough food to feed the community, so we have some call to fight hunger.

And there's another thing that calls pagans to service, something that crosses tradition lines. We're empowered as individuals to create change. If you're in a magic-working tradition, you can't escape your own power to change things. You could choose to change things only for yourself and your own benefit, but even that can create ripples of positive effect for others. Traditions that place less emphasis on magic tend to place more emphasis on a close relationship with a single deity or small group of deities, on prayer and a relationship of favors. Even though the individual pagan in these relationships may not be "casting spells" or doing magical work, they are empowered to ask favors directly from their deity, who is assumed to have direct power in the world. As pagans, we require very little intercession in order to get things done. We don't need a leader to tell us where to go and what to do. We don't need to wait for our congressperson to take a stand, or our clergy-person to tell us it's OK to be involved, or even for a group to form near us that will facilitate the work. All we need to do is see a need, and then be brave enough to act to fill it.

Thu, 29 May 2008 15:14:30 GMT

Last night, I attended an interfaith church service for my city's Gay Pride festival. This year marks the 30th year that the Pride festival has happened in Kansas City. The service included a look back at the history of Pride and of the LGBT community over the last thirty years. We heard from gay men, lesbian women, and straight allies, everybody telling the stories of their life in the community and how events changed them, and how they changed the world.

A Unitarian Universalist woman talked about the first time she had her name in print associated with activism for gay rights, and how her association with the cause made her a target for bigotry and homophobia, even though she is straight. A young man from William Jewell, a private university that has received national awards for excellence, detailed his work in getting the Student Bill of Rights to include freedom from discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity or expression. He was optimistic, but acknowledged that the university had a long way to go: he reported that the psychology department uses a version of the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) that lists homosexuality as a mental illness. (For those playing along at home, homosexuality was removed from the DSM in 1973, though there is some concern based on the composition of the latest revision committee that it might return to the lists in future editions.)

At the end of the service, a young man who is a member of Passages, a LGBT youth organization, spoke. He talked about how the presence of a strong and supportive community helped him to climb out from the pit of repression and self-hate that he had learned from his Catholic family and the church schools he attended, and how he is now able to comfortably express himself as a gay man and has the support of his new church home. He shared a vision of the future in which LGBT youth would not have to go through the experience of bigotry, mistrust, and disapproval that he had as a young teen, and would be accepted and celebrated by friends, family, and church.   The congregation cheered.

This morning, I read a newspaper article which said that hate crimes against LGBT people increased 142% in my town from last year.   In some ways, I expected to see something like that. I recently spoke to Donna Ross, a board member of the Kansas City Anti-Violence Project, and she said that one of the great victories of that organization has been in training local police on dealing with the LGBT community, and the LGBT community in dealing with the local police. According to her, that means that fewer crimes are going unreported, which probably accounts for a good portion of the increase.

I imagine that some of the rest of it is attributable to the political and cultural climate. Huge gains are being made for civil rights all over the country, not just in California, and there's a certain amount of backlash to be expected from that. The whole gay rights issue is out there in the public eye, and there are enough hardcore haters to make people who are undecided on the question of whether gay people are in fact people feel comfortable showing their bigotry to the world.

So I have to ask: What can I do to help bring about the future that the gentleman from Passages is hoping for? What can I do to minimize violence and hate? How can I change the culture to reduce acceptance of bigotry?   I do what I can.

This weekend, I'll be at Kansas City Gay Pride. At some point, I'll be sitting at a table for the Kansas City Coalition of Welcoming Ministries, an interfaith group dedicated to helping religious institutions welcome LGBT people, and to education about anti-LGBT bigotry and violence in religious contexts. If you're interested and local, come on by. The organization is new and small, but already doing a lot, and we could be doing a lot more with more folks involved.

The Druids and the Food Bank

Wed, 14 May 2008 15:57:10 GMT

The druid grove I am affiliated with recently did a Beltane ritual in which the focus of the rite was growing the grove, producing visions for what we'd like to see the grove do and be over the next few years. The ritual was worked in an ADF style, which means that most of it was given over to the making of offerings to the various deities that the grove and its members honor. The visions, too, were given as offerings, and one of the visions produced was of the grove growing as a service organization, gaining visibility and sympathy, and perhaps even members who were more interested in being part of a community service organization based in paganism than in coming to rituals.

Towards the end of ADF ritual, the group seeks an omen, a response from the gods indicating that they are pleased or displeased with the work, or suggesting further action or offerings to be made. The omen in this case was taken by the seer by drawing ogham disks. She drew first the character that is usually a 'modifier', indicating that the next character drawn should be regarded as particularly relevant to the realm of the sea. She then drew a second character, which proved to be the 'modifier' indicating that the next draw should be regarded as relevant to the realm of the sky. The ADF cosmology includes three realms, the land, sea, and sky, and the seer interpreted the omen to mean that the work was incomplete, missing the 'earthy' part.

Consultation followed among the group. Visions had been shared, but no action had been promised to back them up. The entire work had taken place in the shining sky of inspiration and the shifting sea of imagination. It needed to be brought to earth, made manifest in the physical world. The chieftain in charge of the ritual promised to contact Harvesters, a local food bank with which the grove has worked before, to see about ongoing volunteer opportunities. The assembled people vowed to provide some of their time on a regular basis to the work.

The omen was drawn again. Was this the right thing to do, the proper next step? The ogham returned "Apple". The gods spoke, and the word they spoke was "Sweet!". The grove will donate time to the food bank, sorting and packaging food for distribution, at least one Saturday morning every three months for at least the next year.

'Allo out there

Mon, 12 May 2008 18:18:50 GMT

This is my first post in my spankin' new Inksome journal. :) I thought I might use it as an introduction, not so much of myself, but of what I'm trying to accomplish here.

I'm a pagan magician living in the Midwest U.S. This journal is the outcome of a snide remark I heard once about pagans, which was basically to the effect that all pagans were self-centered jerks, and you never would hear "pagan charity" become a common phrase the way that, say "christian charity" is. To that, I say [insert something rude here]. Some of the most amazingly giving, involved human beings I've ever known have been pagan. We tend to fly under the radar of philanthropy though, for a couple of reasons. One is that we tend to join existing charitable or activist organizations rather than start our own. Another is that we often tend towards lives that lead us primarily to spiritual or social gain rather than monetary gain, so we tend to be donors of time rather than funds. And, of course, we are famously unwilling to stand in line and be counted for things - too much focus on us makes a lot of us nervous, and even if we can comfortably be looked at, we are often unwilling to be identified as pagan in the public eye.

But we're out there. We're doing the work (whatever we perceive the work to be). I believe that the next step for me is to temporarily abandon the Fourth Power of the Sphinx and start talking. I want to talk about what I'm doing. I want to talk about what you're doing. I want to share my ideas about things we could be doing. I want to be inspired and inspiring. I want to use the mighty connective power of the internet to drive change. Are you in?