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05 Apr 2006: Wiccan Heresies: Harm None Isn't Enough
[Originally published August 7, 2005]"An it harm none, do what ye will."
These eight words make up the Wiccan Rede, which is (arguably) the most significant point of intersection between Wiccan sects. Granted, we must also have veneration of the Goddess for a religious group to claim to be Wiccan, but without the Rede, such a group might be "Goddess-worshipping", but not Wiccan.
But is the Rede enough? This entry in the Wiccan Heresies series is not about whether such-and-such Tradition is actually Wiccan. Frankly, "validity" arguments bore us to tears. No, this time the question is whether or not the Rede is sufficient for the religion. This will involve the concept of something I call the "zero point". To adequately explain this, I need to explore, for a moment, the Buddhist concept of assisting all sentient beings.
In the middle-path Buddhism, all practitioners are to strive constantly to ease the suffering of all sentient beings. This can be through as simple a practice as hanging prayer flags, which are believed to "bless the wind", carrying the blessings across the world. According to their faith, the prayer flags increase the amount of peacefulness, ease suffering, and encourage mindfullness in all who are affected by the wind that passes over these flags. Of course, the practitioner is also enjoined to do more, actively praying, working on their own talents and mental/spiritual discipline, and above all, never passing up an opportunity to be compassionate toward another sentient being. There is no concept of "sin", per se, any more than there is in Wicca. There is no warning that failure to be compassionate will result in time spent in some place of torment reserved for the evil. Rather, it is acknowledged that if you are not compassionate, you are interferring with your progress toward enlightenment, and your karma will cause you to continue to be reborn into samsara, the wheel of rebirth that is the lot of the unenlightened. In other words, you won't progress toward perfection. And unlike most Wiccan sects with which I'm familiar, the Buddhists have no problem with the idea of you reincarnating as a slug next time, if that's how rotten you were to people this time around.
If we reduce the Wiccan Rede to its two most significant words, it would probably be "harm none". If we were to reduce Buddhism's injunction to ease all suffering to its two root words, they might be "heal all". The point between the two is what I call the zero point, the place where you can follow the Wiccan Rede, but fall short of the Buddhist injunction: you're harming none, but helping none either.
Shouldn't Wicca be equally committed to healing all? Is the zero point good enough for us? There is a saying that we in America are well acquainted with: "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." The zero point, by definition, isn't part of the solution. So logically, it's not enough for a religion that claims to want to be a positive influence in the world.
I submit that we need to ensure that in our training, we emphasize that the Rede isn't the place to end, it's the place to start. Start being a positive influence in the world. Heal all is a worthy goal.
05 Apr 2006: Wiccan Heresies: Demanding More from Our Clergy
[Originally published July 24, 2005 ]Storytime...
The city isn't very big, as cities go these days. Just under 150,000 people, enough to be vibrant and have enough diversity to draw a number of religions together. Seeing how important it is that different faiths learn about each other, some intrepid souls decide to organize an Ecumenical Conference, and send out some invitations to local congregation leaders, fully intending to throw as wide a net as possible. The objective is to have a truly ecumenical experience. After a few weeks of negotiating schedules and picking up the names of some other potential attendees, the date is set, the flyers printed, and the news agencies alerted.
Shortly after the story airs, the expected happens: calls start coming in from sects and religious groups that didn't receive an invitation. A few calls are indignant, but most are polite, and the organizers offer their apology and extend the invitation to those who seem genuinely interested in participating. Among those calls were couple from local Wiccan and Pagan groups, but none were of a size that the organizers considered "significant" -- no more than 10 people were in any single group. Not wanting this segment of the population to be left out, the organizers suggest that, if the groups could form a "coalition" of sorts, they could send a representative who could speak for them all. After all, not every local Christian sect was being invited either. A few weeks later, another call, this time from the "Pagan Coalition", is made, asking to attend the Conference. The organizers are very pleased to accomodate.
At the opening of the Conference, each participant is given materials that cover the agenda, a few keynotes, and a listing of short biographical pieces covering the other representatives. As each one checks in, they take a few minutes to check out "the competition", reading up on their soon-to-be-met colleagues.
Father Michael Hill is pastor of St. Andrew's Church. At 53, he's been a Roman Catholic priest for just under half his life, having been ordained at 28, after years of rigorous study at the seminary. In addition to holding the equivalvent of Master's degrees in theology, psychology and history, he has received abundant training in individual and group counseling. He's been at St. Andrew's for 15 years now, but acted as an assistant pastor at three other churches, one of them in an inner city. He's looking forward to some "peer time", and mildly nervous about giving the first keynote.
Rabbi Ismail Levenberg leads the Valley Temple, a reformed congregation and the only Synagogue of over 400 members in the city. He just turned 60 a month ago, and reflects on how much life has changed as he finds himself sitting at a table with other learned men of G-d, even though he has severe doubts about some of them. His own studies at two universities have yielded the Doctorate in comparative religions that he holds, and he knows a great deal about some of the religions represented here today. Nevertheless, he is here to learn more about them, and take that information back to his people. Perhaps, he thinks, there will be new alliances today. He's giving the keynote this afternoon, and he is only nervous about staying on topic.
Khenpo Kyabje Rinpoche is a Tibetan Buddhist monk of the Kagya line. At 82, he's the oldest religious leader here. His training began at the age of 11 in Tibet, before the Chinese came, and he managed to escape to India before the tanks rolled over his monastary. He spent close to 20 years in various schools and universities, pursuing knowledge of the Dharma, as well as his advanced skills in linguistics, philosophy, and teaching. With a sense of amusement, he realizes that he gained his title, and was teaching students full-time, when the young man to his left was still in diapers. Khenpo is not nervous at all, having a lifetime of meditative peace to draw on.
Rev. Jeremy Biscaine of the Green Valley Baptist Church is highly nervous. He's 31, recently a father again (third child, born without complications this time), married for 9 years. His studies at the Divinity College were not easy, and he did not graduate anywhere near the top of his class. Fortunately, he was also not so close to the bottom, praise the Lord. The degree he holds is called "Doctor of Divinity" and in his heart of hearts, he knows that title is something of a sham. Oh, to be sure, he is well equipped to lead his flock: the studies included in-depth analysis of the Bible, several courses in theology, psychology, group dynamics, counseling, fiscal management of a church. Even a course on public relations that covered fund raising technique. And he has lead his church now for 4 years. Still, he can't think of himself as a "doctor", knowing how little he truly knows compared to his college professors. Now they were geniuses. But they aren't around now, so it was up to him to hold the standard of the Baptist faith.
At the table, there are only three women, but none are as young as Stephanie Braun, aka High Priestess Amber Moondaughter... and she is not just nervous. She is fairly sure that the anxiety she's feeling isn't the precursor of a heart attack, but... At 26, she's not just the youngest woman, but the youngest representative, the only 20-something except for the Sunni Muslim at the other end of the table, and he's 29. Stephanie is regretting her decision to use her Craft name in registering for the Conference, as she's already had to explain three times the difference between Craft name and Mundane name. And she's also regretting the biographical data next to her name. Where the other representatives have listed congregations that they've led, schools attended and degrees earned, Stephanie does not. She doesn't have any degrees, having dropped out of college after just two years in pursuit of an art history major. She has no training to speak of in conflict resolution, counseling, or psychology. She has never even attended a seminar on group leadership. Fortunately, the biographies didn't delve into more personal information, such as financial status; Stephanie is always on the brink of bankruptcy. Her relationships are equally troubled, as she finally extricated herself last spring from her third live-in lover to "go crazy" on her in as many years. If they had asked where her income came from, she would have had to reply that she was a cashier at local grocery store. But fortunately, they asked none of that, and so her biography simply read:
- Amber Moondaughter, High Priestess. Representative, Pagan Coalition. She holds the Sublime Third Degree (highest level) in the Gardnerian Tradition of Wicca, and leads Oak Circle Coven, a Wiccan congregation. She also holds Third Degree in two other Traditions. She trains clergy in all three Lines, and assists junior clergy in performing their spiritual duties.
Quite the story, isn't it? When looked at like this, one might have to wonder, precisely what does the Wiccan above actually have to bring to the table? What would she bring to her coven, even?
The fact is, our mythical Amber, above... and any resemblance to any Priestess is coincidental and should not be viewed as a slap... gained her Third Degree the way most Wiccans do these days. She stuck around long enough, was able to demonstrate a sufficient amount of competence to the other, equally-poorly-trained High P's, and sought the Initiations and Elevations. Most covens do not require their prospective Thirds to perform as much work as might be expected from a high school chemistry class. And yet, they are Elevated, which means that they can do unto the religion of Wicca, and the Trad to which they belong, pretty much whatever they damned well feel like doing. And if another Third doesn't like it, tough. We're autonomous, remember?
But what does that say about our committment to the ones whose spirtual lives we're influencing? Don't we owe it to our coveners to be more? To be able to provide what even a lowly Deacon at the local Episcopal church can do? Those are questions we need to start asking. And we need to start coming up with suitable answers.
Should we not be able to expect the clergy charged with the continuation of the Line to be worthy of the role?
04 Apr 2006: Wiccan Heresies: Layered Clergy
[Originally published July 17, 2005]Virtually all Traditions of Wicca (including the "non-traditionals") hold a few things as being true, although we claim to have no dogma. The Wiccan Rede, for example, and some form of the Rule of Three. We get around calling them dogma largely on the argument that no one is expected to accept these tenets on faith alone, simply because someone higher up said they were so. And in that respect, the statement stands: Wiccans honestly are non-dogmatic. But there are some things that are held so closely, and are rarely questioned, that they begin to take on the power of dogma. one of these is the simple statement: All Wiccans are clergy.
A cursory examination of this statement might lead one to conclude that all Wiccans are expected to be able to perform the functions of clergy, at least for themselves, and this is indeed at the heart of one of the various modes of thought on the subject. There is no separation between Wiccans and the Gods, no need for someone to act as an intercessor for the "lay Wiccan". All of us can reach out to Them, and we will be Heard.
But as the religion grows and ages, we will find ourselves faced with a need that we have not addressed, at least not on any decent scale. We will be confronted with a number of folks who, for various reasons, choose not to develop their talents as clergy, but wish to take part in the faith and the practices. They worship the Gods, they want to be part of the circles, but have no intention of Initiating, let alone being elevated to the Third. In short, we will develop a laity. It's already happening in some places. And in some small ways, there are movements toward handling this need. But by and large, the needs of laity are not just being ignored, they are being actively discouraged.
If an individual wishes to practice as a Wiccan, reveres the Gods and keeps to the few tenets we do have, but states flatly that they do not want to ever, ever lead a coven, those of us who've lead covens and other groups might do little more than nod, and mutter, "Smart person..." Let that same individual also state that they do not want to lead ritual, learn more than just the basics of ceremony and so forth, and there will likely be raised brows and talk about "Sabbat Wiccan", a derrogatory term that is our faith's equivalent of "Sunday Christian". There is a feeling, a belief, that all Wiccans must "develop" at least to the point to where they could cast a circle for themselves, if nothing else.
We submit that we must prepare ourselves as clergy to handle the needs of these laity, rather than trying to ensure that they never appear.
To that end, we suggest that the idea of "layered clergy" be explored. While it might be an axiom that all Wiccans are clergy, there needs to be a differentiation between the clergy that ministers only to the self ("you are your own best priestess"), clergy that minister to non-clergy, and clergy that minister to other clergy. Each layer, of course, is capable of ministering to the needs of every lower layer.
For example, let's assume a Wiccan priestess (we'll call her Amber, since it's likely most of us know a priestess named that) who heads a coven. In her outer court are two individuals we would refer to as laity. Those two could certainly minister to themselves, by following a daily devotional practice, but neither is capable of properly handling the needs of a coven. That's what Amber does; she puts on the circles and so forth that allow the small congregation to meet its socially-oriented spiritual needs. But Amber isn't so great at handling anything but the most simple types of counseling. While some of her coveners' needs fall into the "you need professional help" category, others just require someone who is more adept at the spiritual subtlties. For those cases, Amber needs to consult with a higher priestess, who has had the time and wherewithal to more adequately develop her talents for these things. That priestess could be a resource for a small group of other priestesses or priests, and could be held in reserve for those times where the lower layer clergy is in too deep.
This is a rough-out of an idea of course, but it's a concept we're playing with at Dragon's Weave.
