Showing posts with label ecocentrism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ecocentrism. Show all posts

Monday, January 14, 2013

Nature Worship, Polytheism and the "Point" of Paganism

Sophia shared a link to Stifyn Emrys's post, "There's Far More to Paganism Than Worshipping Gods and Goddesses," in which Emrys responds to that post by P. Sufenas Virius Lupus on "bringing back the gods" that I linked to the other day but haven't had a chance to go back and read. If Emrys is being fair in his characterization of the main thrust of Lupus's argument, then I'm actually a bit concerned. I used to think of Lupus as a thoughtful, respectful writer — one of those reconstructionist polytheists (in company with folks like Erynn Rowan Laurie and some others) who can be intelligent and nuanced in their own theology and practice without feeling the need to tear down others or erect straw men to legitimize their own views.

Emrys's main point is that Paganism is (and I would add, always has been) much more complex than worship of "the old gods." This is so obvious, and to claim otherwise would be so contrary to historical fact — and we're talking recent history, here — that I find it disconcerting that someone like Lupus who supposedly takes his history very seriously could make a claim to the contrary. It seems that the claim that modern Paganism's "point" is to "bring back the gods" is a fabrication almost on par with the claim that it represents an unbroken lineage of the ancient Matriarchy, or that the Burning Times killed millions of women who were secretly priestesses of the Goddess. It just simply isn't true that this is the "point" of Paganism, and no serious scholar of modern Paganism as a New Religious Movement would ever make such a claim. Hell, my thesis on the influences of modern Paganism's development over the past fifty years — which I wrote not even ten years ago — examined polytheism as only one of many different theological strands, and not even the most influential one. Back when I was doing this research, there wasn't even such a thing as "hard polytheism" in the popular mindset of the average self-identifying Pagan. If anyone had tried to make the claim that modern Paganism's "point" was polytheism, you could easily have pointed to several different statistical studies and surveys of the actual beliefs and practices of people calling themselves Pagan/Neopagan that clearly showed this just wasn't the case.

In fact, the most recent general survey of Pagan practice and belief that came out in June 2012 (barely six motnhs ago) shows that more than 87% of self-identifying Pagans said "reverence for nature" was the most important element of Paganism, whereas only 10% chose "worship of the gods." And even though 56% of the Pagans surveyed identified as polytheist, when asked if worship of the gods was a fundamental aspect of Paganism, less than half of them said yes. Now I don't think this particular survey was necessarily all that scientific or carefully controlled.... but those numbers certainly seem to confirm my own impression of the breakdown.

So what the hell is Lupus talking about? I need to go back and actually read his post for myself. It might be that Emrys is exaggerating Lupus's claims (though from the brief skim I did the other day, I don't think he is).

What's the "point"?


Lupus opens by stating outright:

I feel the need to state once again that one of the "points" of modern Paganism is to bring back the gods. [...] their reality as actual beings with independence, volition, and power was disregarded, downplayed, or demonized in many cases.

So he does say "one of the 'points' of modern Paganism," and not the point... and he also puts the word "point" in scare quotes, though I'm not sure exactly what he's trying to communicate by doing that. I get nervous when I see a lot of furry writing, with scare quotes scattered throughout a text when it's not obvious that the person is either quoting someone else or trying to be deliberately ironic/sarcastic. I'm not sure how a "point" differs from a point.

He goes on:

What I am noticing more and more recently, however, is that modern Paganism is being purposefully defined so as to not include the gods. In recent weeks alone: Jonathan Korman has defined "the pagan sensibility" as not necessarily needing to include the gods; John Halstead has discussed the four centers of modern Paganism, but has portrayed the deity-centric forms of Paganism as inherently creedal; and here at Patheos' Pagan Portal, Yvonne Aburrow has defined "theology" as "reasoning about the Divine" rather than "reasoning about the gods," which is not remotely the same thing (on which more will be said in a moment). [emphasis added]

I've already noted why I think his qualms with Aburrow's definition of theology are somewhat silly ("biology is the study of life" vs. "biology is the study of lives), but I'll be interested to see what more he has to say on this. As for Korman's and Halstead's posts, I've read both of them, and they are both clearly working towards a definition of Paganism that is inclusive and nuanced, rather than a single, monolithic statement about a community that is inherently diverse and complex. Considering that all evidence suggests that not all Pagans see (hard) polytheism as essential to the community-identity of modern Paganism, I would say that the attempts of these two to come up with a description of the community is more accurate than Lupus's so far. Even Lupus seems to be contradicting himself — didn't he just say polytheism was only one of the "points"? It might have seemed at first that he was saying there are multiple aspects of Paganism that modern Pagans share more or less in common — and that holding to any or several of these aspects might be enough to identify oneself as Pagan. But now it seems pretty obvious that what he's actually saying is that "worship of the gods" is necessary but not sufficient to being Pagan. Most people who call themselves Pagan would disagree with him on this.

He says:

For a long time now, I've been hearing modern Paganism characterized as a "nature religion" or an "earth-based religion." [...] I suspect a huge reason that it is characterized that way—especially to non-Pagans—is because of fear of being thought foolish or "primitive" for recognizing the gods. [emphasis added]

What? No.

Considering the amount of shaming "tree-huggers" and "dirt-worshippers" receive from mainstream society for being foolish, sentimental, overly-romantic, and yes, "primitive" and "anti-progress" and even "anti-human".... I find it hard to believe that Pagans are just lying to everyone about their reverence for nature because it's easier than admitting you're a polytheist. That has certainly never been the case in my experience.

Lupus then recounts an incident when he was at a university in Ireland (attending as a student? he doesn't say), when he requested the use of the campus chapel for an important ritual. The chaplaincy council rejected his request, recommending that he hold the ritual outside because that would be "more appropriate." Lupus points out that not only would this be inappropriate because of the weather of late autumn, but that there were no examples of outdoor rituals in the history of the tradition he was reconstructing, but many examples of indoor temples and ritual spaces. He concludes:

Unfortunately, my preferences and information in this regard were considered irrelevant, because the chaplaincy council knew what was best and most appropriate for "my sort" of people. [original emphasis]

This sounds like a story of obvious prejudice and disrespect, but I'm not sure what it has to do with whether or not Pagans in general should or shouldn't be "earth-centered." I have attended several indoor group rituals hosted by Pagan or Druid groups that were explicitly "earth-centered," either because outdoor space was not available or because weather made outdoor ritual impractical. Lupus seems to be making the argument that because he encountered mainstream ignorance which hindered his religious freedom, that therefore somehow earth-centered Pagans are to blame. He says:

This is one instance in which public perception of modern Pagan identity and religiosity interfered with actual practice. The idea of Pagans as "nature worshippers" fits in perfectly with the Christian conception (and, as in my case, misconception) of ancient polytheists as unsophisticated bumpkins with no place in civilized society, and therefore no business doing their rituals indoors.

Here, he identifies the view of Pagans as "unsophisticated bumpkins with no place in civilized society" as a "misconception" when it's applied to him, but seems to be suggesting that he thinks it's a perfectly reasonable view of others who self-identify as "nature worshippers." Rather than arguing against such a prejudiced view as fundamentally ignorant no matter who it's applied to, he seems primarily upset that it was applied to him when it shouldn't have been.

I should point out that, just as I've attended indoor rituals during cold weather, I have also attended outdoor rituals (usually private or small group rituals) despite the weather being somewhat unpleasant. I also spent five or six hours this past weekend hiking around in near-freezing temperatures. I do not think that my willingness to go outside in various kinds of weather, or my ability to appreciate and celebrate the natural world in all kinds of conditions, makes me an "unsophisticated bumpkin." Nimue recently pointed out in a blog post, in fact, that our ability to go out in bad weather and then come back in and get dry and warm again is a mark of our civilized lifestyle — and I am not particularly inclined to balk at a civilized lifestyle that let's me go out to experience the outdoors in all sorts of conditions without risking life and limb. Huzzah for hiking boots and warm coats.

Moving on...

As Star Foster said many months back, polytheism is one of the few things that modern Paganism can be said to "own" almost exclusively; but, for too many, it seems like the funny old lamp inherited from our great-grandparents that we hide in the basement when the guests come over.

There go the scare quotes again. Maybe talking about Pagans "owning" polytheism makes it seem less ridiculous than actually staking your entire argument on the immature sense of ownership (sans scare quotes). The idea that certain groups can own (or "own") particular philosophical or theological concepts is itself deeply problematic. But instead of talking about that, let's just get snippy and sarcastic in the next paragraph...

Lupus then goes on to argue semantics, but at least he admits it. Turns out, he has nothing more intelligent to say about language usage than before, other than falling into the usual trap of thinking that some foreign term that he read in a book is therefore inherently more complex than a familiar English word:

As I've indicated already, polytheists are not monotheists, but, I would argue, neither are they monists. This is why I no longer use the phrase "the Divine" in talking about modern Paganism or polytheism. This may be more a question of semantics in many people's minds, and if that's the case that's fine. Still, the phrase "the Divine" does not, for me, describe the reality of the gods as I have come to know them, nor does it usefully and accurately translate the element theos in a term like "theology." Ancient Greek used theos as singular and plural (both "god" and "gods"), as masculine and feminine (both "god/s" and "goddess/es"), and as a noun or as an adjective (both "god" and "godly"), so one can choose whatever option fits the purpose when using this term.

For fun, let's look up the etymology of the word "divine":

From Latin divinus "of a god," from divus "a god," related to deus "god, deity" (see Zeus), from Greek, from PIE *dewos- "god" (cf. Latin deus "god," Old Persian daiva- "demon, evil god," Old Church Slavonic deivai, Sanskrit deva-), from root *dyeu- "to gleam, to shine;" also the root of words for "sky" and "day"

Oh noooooosss! It looks like the modern English word "divine" traces back to the ancient Greek! ::headdesk::

Anyway, then Lupus spends some time talking somewhat confusedly about how theos implies a complexity of language that is unique to polytheism, and is not reflected in monotheism or monism. So far as I can understand what he's trying to say, he is simply wrong about this because he is unfamiliar with the many different theological approaches to monotheism. As a great example, he ends this particular ramble by gleefully dangling the tantalizing possibility that polytheism might even be able to conceive of the gods as "verbs" — which means that he must at least be completely unfamiliar with the book God is a Verb, by David Cooper, which explores that very concept in a monotheistic context. ::headdesk again::

He continues:

Pagan or polytheist practice that emphasizes cultus presupposes a definite being with volition and consciousness on the other end of the interaction. (Cultus, for the present purpose, is active and deliberate interaction with divine beings.) Thus, when I hear Pagans being described or self-defining as "nature worshippers," I wonder how interaction can take place at all. "Nature" doesn't care if you make offerings, hold festivals, or sing its praises and dance and feast with your friends. Dancing at Lughnasadh will not avert global warming; singing a hymn won't stop an earthquake; pouring a libation won't prevent it from raining. The best way to "honor" nature is to do things like recycle, not drive, reduce one's carbon footprint, and so forth. [emphasis added]

Again, what?

Lupus "wonders how interaction [with nature] can take place at all" but then ends his paragraph by listing ways that we interact with nature. What's going on here is an obvious (maybe even deliberate?) confusion about the purpose of ritual. Lupus claims that he defines cultus as "active and deliberate interaction with divine beings" who are "definite being[s] with volition and consciousness." But his examples of what he actually considers "cultus" all include rituals in which people exert control over these divine beings — making offerings, singing hymns or dancing in order to exert influence over the gods. Arguably, if this is how he defines the purpose of ritual, then the evidence that he is interacting with "definite beings with volition and consciousness" is just as scanty as those people pouring libations to the earth itself. At least when I pour a libation to a tree, I know that the physical water will actually make a difference to that tree. Burning incense in order to please Zeus, on the other hand?

But the more important point is that not all ritual is propitiatory in nature. In fact, ritual is complex (I really can't believe I have to keep saying this). Sometimes ritual is celebratory, and celebratory ritual is still a way of interacting with the gods, or nature, or even the other people involved in the ritual. Do you take someone out to dinner because you want to get in their pants? Or do you enjoy the act of having dinner with them? And if they don't let you get in their pants, do you conclude that they "don't care" about having dinner with you, or that they might not even be real beings with volition and consciousness?

Lupus's argument here is either a deliberate straw man, or a profound ignorance about the nature and purpose of ritual in different contexts. It may also involve a deeply ingrained prejudice against seeing things other than humans as alive, conscious or possessing self-determination. It's taken scientists a while, but at least now, finally, it is an agreed-upon scientific fact that other animals most definitely are "beings with volition and consciousness." Ecologists acknowledge that even inanimate things (like rock formations, river systems, or chemical compounds) can participate in what are self-organizing, self-sustaining living systems. If it's not too big a leap of faith to believe that Zeus gives a shit about whether or not you burn incense, it shouldn't be so big a leap to believe that self-organizing, self-sustaining living systems in the natural world (of which we are a part) do have some stake in how we interact with them, both through ritual and through everyday life.

Lupus ends his post by repeating many of his previous points, and likewise repeating many of his earlier inaccurate assumptions and logical missteps, so there's not much point in going on with this step-by-step analysis. His main concern seems to be that "nature worship" in the modern sense is, well, modern, and should therefore be avoided because (to paraphrase) "our ancestors didn't do it." It's unclear if he actually thinks anyone really worships nature at all, since throughout his piece he accuses self-identifying "nature worshippers" as calling themselves that merely to hide the fact that they're polytheists. (This sounds to me a lot like monotheists who want to insist that self-describing polytheists are "really just confused monotheists.") His straw men are ridiculous enough that it wouldn't surprise me if he has trouble finding anyone who would agree with his characterization of nature worship. His last paragraph is pretty heavy-handed with "should"-loaded language, while lamenting that so few of our Pagan leaders and luminaries have seen the light and agree with him about the need to emphasize polytheism.

In general, it's mostly an oddly whiney and misinformed piece — at once trying to claim the authority to speak for the majority while complaining that the majority is too ignorant or foolish to agree with him. Safe to say, this is not a very good rhetorical approach to use in trying to win people over. But it might be very effective in preaching to the trollish choir.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Sunrise/Sunset Language: Further Thoughts

Jeff sent me this reply after reading my previous post:

Completely agree with all your points, and yes, as far as I know, all languages basically refer to the Earth, sun, moon, and stars as if we were standing on a dinner plate, and the sky were a concave shell above us.

That said...

Some part of my subconscious has been kicking around ideas about what is 'natural' for humans insofar as we *do* strive to improve ourselves, and in particular to see things from other points of view, and consciously (and subconsciously) change ourselves based on that. There's no question that one of the great strengths of humans is that we *can* (when we try) understand other points of view, and even, to some extent, adopt them. You mention, for example, the coyote: naturally we wouldn't expect a coyote's perspective to be like a human's, and we would not expect a coyote to try and adopt a human perspective (although certain dogs do a very good job of it), and we would not ever expect any human to completely grok a coyote's perspective. But some humans, with years of study, do come to understand coyotes extremely well -- better than, say, rabbits understand coyotes, or bees understand coyotes. And because of this plasticity of mind (which goes hand in hand with the neoteny of our physiology), the question of what is 'natural' for human beings is rather complex.

To be specific: for humans who grew up and lived all their lives on a space station orbiting the moon, it would be completely natural for them to adopt new words for the motion of the sun, words that might have more in common with the 'objective' perspective than what most languages use. (Or perhaps not: they might still use perspective-centric language, e.g. the sun is "coming out", i.e. from behind the Earth or the Moon.) This wouldn't mean that they were unnatural humans, nor yet that they were less anthropocentric. But they'll have adopted a perspective quite foreign to any other species of Earth life.

So... since this is probably rather muddled, let me summarize. I completely agree with you, AND I think it's interesting to note that we humans have this plasticity of mind that makes it difficult to say exactly what is 'natural' for a human being. And as we alter our environment through developments in technology and culture, our neoteny and plasticity will only increase. It will be fascinating to see what strange ways of being human we develop in the next ten thousand years. :-)

Very excellent points. I don't think I have anything to add, other than that I think appreciating the plasticity of human nature and human language means, to a certain extent, explicitly allowing and making room for that plasticity. While that might mean sculpting and shaping our language consciously in some ways, it also means allowing language to evolve naturally. In this case I do not think it means excising certain terms completely and attempting to replace them with others in accordance with a predetermined ideology, especially not one that posits that it is fundamentally problematic to even acknowledge our human perspective.

In the other comments responding to Rua Lupa's post, some readers have offered very poetic alternatives, and poetry is exactly the right place where this type of language play is at its best. (There are plenty of examples where poetry has been the source of new words or phrases, too, so in that way poetry is not only the perfect place for language play, but the most nourishing soil for the evolution and growth of language as well.) I am by no means saying we shouldn't experiment with language or explore its depths or flexibility. Please yes, let's do.

Sunrise/Sunset: Can We Even Be Less Human?

Over on No Unsacred Place, Rua Lupa has a post up that pretty much epitomizes one of the problems with much of modern environmentalist rhetoric: the existential angst of being human.

She is specifically looking at the (supposedly problematic) language of saying "sunrise" and "sunset," which takes for granted an earth-centric perspective rather than acknowledging the scientific fact that the earth revolves around the sun and not vice versa.

If I'd wanted to be a real dick, I could have pointed out that according to Einstein's theory of relativity, we are in fact perfectly justified in talking about the sun (and indeed the entire cosmos) as revolving around the earth, if that happens to be our perspective. But I restrained.

The real issue is that many environmentalists are still stuck in the inherited worldview that says humans are "naturally" fallen and sinful creatures and can't do anything right. Therefore, what humans do is bad, and the problem with the planet is humans. Not the specific things that humans do, but simply the humans themselves. Thus, you get existential angst (or politically correct righteousness, or both) over something as innocuous as language that describes the sun as rising and setting.

This was the comment I left on the post:

I haven't heard of any ecocentric folks raising objections to the terms sunrise/sunset -- in fact, this is the first I've heard of it being a problem. I happen to agree with "Nobody" in the first comment above.

Acknowledging that humans have a particular perspective and that human language will reflect that perspective is not inherently anthropocentric.

Artificially trying to surpress our natural, intuitive relationship with our surroundings by adopting constrained language is unlikely to fix the problem, either, in my opinion. Language is itself a living, evolving thing, not a construct that we can meddle with and manipulate as we like. That's not to say that trying to craft more conscientious language isn't sometimes helpful, but I have my doubts about how effective it would be to try to force unnatural/awkward phrasings into the language to replace ones that already serve perfectly well. Words, like organisms, fill niches when they are needed, and a word without a niche to fill is not going to survive for very long.

I'd also point out -- and this might be rocking the boat a bit -- that for most of the hundreds of thousands of years since the evolution of the human species, we've largely been ignorant of the facts of modern science. But that has not necessarily resulted in us being worse human beings, or even worse animal citizens of the planet. We don't worry if the coyote has a coyote-centric perspective of the world, and we tend to assume that it does and that this is perfectly fine. In fact, we can't help but have a view of the world that is defined by our own humanness -- trying to have any other kind of view would be, well, inhuman. And one thing the planet does not need us to be is any more inhuman than we already act. (So many of our screw ups have come from us thinking that we can engineer ourselves into being better humans than the species the planet made us.)

Let's root out the actual ideologies that are problematic and destructive and put our energies into deconstructing those, rather identifying our humanness itself as the problem.

I should check this with Jeff, but it might even be that this is a problem specific to the English language (or a handful of related languages) and not universal to all human languages. If it is universal (which, given just how basic an experience it is to not just humans but pretty much everything on the planet, is the most likely), it tells us something fascinating and valuable about how we experience the world. I think we're better off learning from and appreciating that perspective, rather than trying to surpress it.

ETA: I couldn't help but follow up, in response to Rua Lupa asking another commenter to define (without reference to a dictionary) what a sunrise/sunset actually is:

Arguably, the terms "sunrise" and "sunset" refer to the specific event of the sun rising above or sinking below the horizon line from the perspective of a particular point on the surface of the earth.

In other words, the event itself is place-specific, it is necessarily related to a particular location and the perspective of (e.g. the horizon as viewed from) that location. It would be nonsensical to talk about the position of the sun in relation to the horizon without referring to a specific location.

So I'm not clear how you plan to replace these words/concepts with terms that are place-nonspecific. The very attempt to do so is a kind of ideological blinder, an attempt to universalize what is inherently and by definition a localized event.

I've done too much flying this year. I've experienced firsthand that sunrise/sunset is relative to your location, and to try to talk differently about it is bound to cause problems.