Ecology of Being

Edward P. Butler in Noēseis

In Plato’s Parmenides, the young Socrates meets the venerable Parmenides and his partner Zeno at the Panathenaia. There, the two great philosophers from Elea in southern Italy proceed to school Socrates in the art of dialectic, in the requisites for a theory of forms, and in the nature of the One-that-is-not-one.

In my previous column, I spoke about the emergence of binary logic in Parmenides’ poem. In Plato’s Parmenides, we see this logic put to work in the rigorous dialectical structure Parmenides teaches: for any hypothesis, we must think through the consequences if it is, and the consequences if it is not; but in addition,

Parmenides: [W]henever you suppose that anything whatsoever exists or does not exist or has any other attribute, you ought to consider the consequences with reference to itself and to each of the other things that you may select, and several of them, and all of them together; and again you must study these others with reference both to themselves and to any one thing you may select, whether you have assumed the thing to exist or not to exist, if you are really going to win through to a sight of the truth after a complete course of discipline [gymnasamenos]. (Parm. 136b-c, trans. G. Morrow and J. Dillon)

We can see from this that anything we are going to consider is necessarily already thoroughly involved in relations to many other things. It should not seem strange, then, that in Plato’s further development of the Eleatic legacy, the intelligible, the world uncovered by thought, takes on the character of an ecology.

We next meet up with a man from Elea in Plato’s Sophist, where Socrates talks to a mysterious stranger from the home of Parmenides and Zeno. This dialogue not only comments upon the thought of Parmenides and his successors in the Eleatic school, but also refers back to Plato’s dialogue Parmenides through the symbolism of the Panathenaia. The Parmenides is rich with allusions to the festival at which it is set, and the dialectic is even described by Parmenides in the quote above as a kind of gymnastic contest, just like those held at the festival. The elaborate demonstration of the method Parmenides provides in the dialogue’s second section, from 137c to the end, is itself akin to a philosophical version of the epic poems recited by rhapsodes in the festival’s musical contest. Finally, references to horses, a subtle one near the beginning, in the frame narrative (126c-127a), and Parmenides’ overt comparison of himself to an old race-horse (137a), evoke the equestrian contest.

(It can never be pointed out too often that horsemanship, in every culture that practices it, is a symbol for a host of analogous relationships: horse and rider are at once body and soul; the emotional and desiring powers of the soul and its reasoning faculty; and the soul itself and the spirit or God who rides it. The presence or absence of a mediating vehicle—the chariot—or technical devices—bridle, etc.—modify the symbolism accordingly. Note that Athena Herself gifts Bellerophontês with the bridle for Pegasus, for She is the patron of all the arts by which the soul disciplines and directs itself, and through which souls together constitute a social and political order through which they may mutually flourish.)

Beyond this, however, there is the purpose of the festival itself, celebrating the Gigantomachy, the war of the Giants and the Olympians, Athena’s special role in which was commemorated by the presentation of Her statue with a peplos on which scenes from this struggle were depicted. And it is this struggle in particular which is evoked by the Eleatic stranger in the Sophist, who speaks of a philosophical Gigantomachy, between those who affirm the reality only of what is tangible, and who are akin to the Giants, and those who affirm instead only what is pure form, and who are like the Olympians. The Stranger finds both sides wanting, however, and brings them to a figurative settlement: what is is neither simply material nor purely ideal—what is, ispower(s):

Stranger: I suggest that everything which possesses any power [dynamis] of any kind, either to produce a change in anything of any nature or to be affected even in the least degree by the slightest cause, though it be only on one occasion, has real being. For I set up as a definition which defines being, that it is nothing else than power. (Sophist 247d-e, trans. H. N. Fowler, modified)

To be, then, is to have the power to affect and to be affected—relation, in the most basic sense. Since this is active and passive power alike, it cannot help but bridge the opposing sides in the mythic Gigantomachy, because power is exerted irrespective of who is victor or vanquished. Moreover, to affect or be affected is so broad as to encompass every kind of mythic interaction, and not solely the agonistic kind. Even the simple contemplation of one’s beauty by another, as in the meta-myth of the Timaeus, where the demiurge contemplates the animal beauty of his fellow God as a thing in itself, is a complex of powers of affecting and being affected for both members of the encounter. And the Stranger’s solution settles the philosophical Gigantomachy as well, because the partisans of the tangible, of sensation and experience, must admit that it is the power of things to affect them and of themselves to be affected by them of which they truly speak; and the partisans of ideas must admit that to know and to be known are powers, that even simply to be known is to be affected, and that without this dynamic continuum, knowledge cannot exist.

Compare to this the climax of the first part of the Parmenides, at which point Socrates has begun to grasp the difficulties in his nascent theory of ideas. The supreme difficulty with the theory, Parmenides points out, is that the relationship between the world of ideas and the world of everyday things proves paradoxical. If the ideas “are not relative to our world, nor our world to them, but each only to themselves,” then perfect knowledge and perfect mastery will be with the Gods, but neither will reach us:

Parmenides: Then, if this most perfect mastership and this most accurate knowledge are with the God1, his mastership can never rule us, nor his knowledge know us or anything of our world; we do not <under this view> rule the Gods with our authority, nor do we know anything of the divine with our knowledge, and by the same reasoning, they likewise, being Gods, are not our masters and have no knowledge of human affairs. But surely this is a most amazing argument, if it makes us deprive the God of knowledge. (Parm. 134d-e, trans. H. N. Fowler)

Parmenides makes clear that this argument means that the theory of ideas, at least as framed in a naïve fashion, cannot stand. It is a reductio ad absurdum to assert anything that would have as its consequence that the Gods are deprived of knowledge or authority, or that we could have no appropriate knowledge of Them or experience Their authority. The theory of powers in the Sophist answers to this impasse, by conceiving the ideas, in their purely intellectual sense, as a subset of something broader and deeper, namely the network of relations, of actions and affections, in which all beings, simply as beings, interact with one another, and nothing is entirely isolated from the influence of anything else.

None of this entails that the Gods are just like us. Rather, it is a question of what must be the case in order that we are even able to speak of Their difference. And Gods as divine individuals (henads) also transcend any economy in which They are involved, including the devotional economy itself. The Gods are more than the sum of Their relations, and yet to form relations, and to be implicated to some degree in those relations, is Their way.

So the Eleatic stranger concludes that “absolute being … revered and holy [semnon kai hagion],” must possess “motion and life and soul and mind” (Sophist 248e-249a). It cannot, therefore, be an idea, a form, but must be something very closely akin to the Gods Themselves. And we see from Plato’s Phaedrus what that is: Their way of life. For the place in which the Gods gather together is where “truly existing essence, with which all true knowledge is concerned” (Phaedrus 247c) is to be found. Here the Gods have Their banquet (247a), for “divine intelligence … is nurtured on mind and pure knowledge” (247d). To be with one another, thus, is the true nourishment of the banquet. Those things that constitute real being are “the things with which the God is engaged qua divine” (249c). Does this mean that, in a sense, as Socrates asks in the famous question of the Euthyphro, that something is holy just in being loved by the Gods? Yes, in a sense, but it is also the case that the Gods love nothing that is not lovable in itself, that Their will is not arbitrary or ‘capricious’, that term monotheists love to cast with such wounding intent upon the Gods of the Pagans. A will can, and must, be both free and good, and virtue is nothing other than the way of life of noble animals, whether mortal or divine, just as Being, in the absolute sense, is nothing other than the being together of the finest beings.

Plutarchian Syncretism: Can We Unite Without Being Cretans (and Cretins)?

P. Sufenas Virius Lupus in Speaking of Syncretism

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks–at least for me–in terms of the wider dialogues in the modern polytheist communities. There have been difficult discussions which have been necessary, and likewise there have been moments where good intentions and motives on various sides of different debates have lead down less-productive paths. As is the case with so many minority groups deprived of privilege, we are often left scrambling for what scraps we can manage, and often we scramble against one another in the process, for a variety of both legitimate (because true and valid), less legitimate (but often just as true or valid), and entirely selfish reasons (which nonetheless we often acknowledge and do not begrudge one another because we understand the natures of one another’s struggles, even if in a given moment or on a given issue we feel we must defend our own position).

I said to Sannion in a comment on his response to a post and comments I had made what follows:

I also wonder if, in our hunger for understanding and community (which many of us have, anyway), we end up being at each other’s throats rather than having each other’s backs simply because we just want people to touch us but have not figured out how to ask for that, if that makes any sense. Hmm…

While this small thought could be taken in a variety of directions, all of which would be useful, I think it does point out something which too many of us have downgraded as a priority within modern polytheism: yes, the Deities are paramount in importance, and they can touch us in all sorts of different ways, but sometimes we need divine beings in our lives who (as I heard a child quoted in a Catholic sermon long ago express) “have skin on,” which is somethingSarenth discussed on a podcast recently. While other humans may not be deities, they are potentially divine beings with whom interactions matter for reasons far more significant, often, than what we might otherwise refer to as “mere community-building.” As humans, we have divine capacities, but we are also mammals, and we love being touched, including in casual social ways. The presence of a number of Deities can only be felt, or can be greatly intensified, when encountered amongst and amidst and within other people, which is one of many reasons why community is important in polytheism. If a given Deity of our devotions is interested in, say, warfare or communication or language, we often go to great lengths as devotees to pursue those interests, or at least acknowledge and respect them. It stands to reason that if Deities also find humans interesting and worthwhile enough to interact with, then we should probably find other humans interesting and worthwhile to interact with as well, and if our Deities are touching us spiritually, they may also want to touch and be touched by us in and through the presence of other humans.

One of the many ideas mentioned at the Polytheist Leadership Conference last summer that particularly resonated with me and has come up again and again in my own thoughts since then is something Raven Kaldera said in his opening statement in the final panel at the conference, which I moderated. In essence, he said that diverse groups of people coming together have usually had one of two results: either they come together in conflict that does not seek to lessen the differences between them; or, in favor of peaceful interactions, their differences are lessened and watered-down for the purposes of pursuing common goals. However, he noted that the Polytheist Leadership Conference was perhaps one of the first times in known (and certainly recent) history where a diverse group of people has come together, has sought to preserve their differences and to truly respect diversity, and yet to also try to work toward common goals. While other interfaith movements have sought to do this, the majority (monotheist) voices amongst them still tend to dominate and insist on a monistic understanding of deities in order to facilitate everyone getting along. Modern polytheism (and in this respect, it is very much unlike mainstream paganism) cannot ever do that, and has never sought to do so. But, the possibility of working together is not a potential option or a matter to consider any longer, it is becoming a necessity.

This brings me back to something I discussed in one of my first columns here, namely thePlutarchian etymology of syncretism, which I explain there in the following fashion:

It comes from the Greek root syn (“with, together with”) added to Kretismos, “as the Cretans do.” It was used first by Plutarch to describe the way in which the Cretans ignored their various local differences in order to band together for common causes. Thus, many things that are positive, and many movements that have done something similar in order to achieve good results for a diversity of individuals, are doing syncretism. In that definition, the modern umbrella movement of Paganism can be considered syncretism, as can the present website, polytheist.com, since it is not seeking to create an orthodoxy of or amongst polytheists, but instead is a resource for bringing many different people and traditions together in conversation and solidarity for the good of all. Even if you do not agree that syncretism applies to all forms of polytheism, thus, you can certainly say that it applies to all the efforts here at polytheist.com!

While Edward Butler’s caveats and suggestions on the etymology (given in the comments on that post) are excellent and should be taken into account, he also did quip on that occasion:

But perhaps I’m not giving due credit to just how impressive it was for Cretans to put enmities aside for a common purpose!

While that may or may not be the case, nonetheless it seems an almost insurmountable obstacle in modern times to find polytheists who line up in terms of their prioritization of–as only a few examples among many–religious matters as opposed to politics and social movements, community-building as opposed to deepening individual devotion, building infrastructure as opposed to critiquing and avoiding it, being paid money for skilled spiritual services as opposed to doing all such things for free, or respecting and rebuilding hierarchies as opposed to demolishing them and their vestiges wherever they may be found. Recognition for and honoring of diversity is a hallmark of the modern polytheist movement (at least in ideal), and valuing what everyone has to bring to the table in terms of viewpoints, skills, interests, and the like is an excellent methodology, not only in terms of inter- and intra-religious community dynamics (which both apply within modern polytheism), but in life generally speaking. But, what if those different ideas are ones that completely clash and can never be reconciled or compromised over? Should we even want them to be? As the Anomalous Thracian has said on several occasions, compromise is a lose-lose situation (despite how often it is lauded), and no one wants their health, integrity, or many other things to be “compromised.”

On that same panel with Raven Kaldera at the Polytheist Leadership Conference, Edward Butler said something that was likewise extremely important on a theological level, but perhaps it can be applied on an interpersonal level as well. We often assume that if one deity doesn’t like another deity or has enmity with them in some myth or other, that therefore they may not like the other deity still, or may not prefer nor even allow their devotees to associate with the devotees of those others, and so forth. (This can also apply to cultures, too–more than one Heathen I’ve seen wears “Burn Rome!” t-shirts, for example.) Dr. Butler instead suggested that because deities have the powers and capabilities that they do, those deities have chosen to manifest themselves in those situations of conflict with one another, even when it might end up to their apparent (at least from a human perspective) detriment. Indeed, these relationships of opposition and conflict might actually be more significant than some of the friendships, alliances, and loves that some Deities have with others. Thus, it should go without saying that worshippers of Set and Osiris need not be against one another; devotees of Dionysos or Herakles need not resent those dedicated to Hera; and the list goes on and on.

Whether or not one believes in reincarnation or any sort of predestination in our own individual destinies, perhaps there is something in this that can apply to our human situations as well. Perhaps some of us will never see eye-to-eye on certain issues, but we need not put out each other’s eyes because of it. If we can model this inclusiveness and respect for one another despite those differences, then our movements will do something almost unprecedented, and will be more robust for the strength in diversity that they are able to accommodate. Certainly, we will have to agree that certain matters–like racism, misogyny, homophobia, trans*phobia, insistent gender binarism and gender essentialism, ableism, ageism, classism, and so forth–will have no place in our movement, and that those who wish to suggest that they can be religiously justified in these viewpoints will not be tolerated amongst us. But, different ideas on what sort of economic system would best support a healthy society, manifold strategies on how to move toward more just outcomes for diverse populations, and a multitude of ways to prioritize our time and energies toward these ends can certainly co-exist amongst our groups…and, though it won’t be easy and will not just happen because we wish it to be so, nonetheless with effort and diligence it can become a reality.

The more time we spend in one another’s actual (rather than virtual) presences will bring this about, certainly, and advantage of those opportunities should be taken whenever and wherever possible–Many Gods West being one such occasion that will happen later this year. It’s harder to do syncretism if none of us actually live on Crete, or ever visit there, so to speak! So, with this more social understanding of “syncretism” in play, and acknowledged–to use modern academic terminology–as a requirement rather than an elective, if we prudently prioritize attention to it alongside the other desiderata of our own religious pursuits, we are more likely to become a viable and formidable force in the future, for our Deities, our societies, and hopefully for our planet and its general well-being, too.

Dêwoi – The Gods

Segomâros Widugeni in Nemeton Segomâros

The Nature of the Gods: The Gods are by far the best known part of Gaulish Polytheism. We have a vast corpus of Latin inscriptions that give us the names of numerous divinities worshiped by Gauls, and a much smaller corpus of Gaulish-language inscriptions, sometimes to the same deities. We have representations of the Gods, symbols, sometimes in clearly understandable settings, sometimes paired with Classical Greco-Roman symbols or images, which can make meanings clearer. We have literary figures in other Celtic languages, and deities in other Indo-European languages, that can low us to make inferences about Their natures. Even so, not everything is known. They are mysterious, and personal experience with Them is needed to truly understand Them.

Dêwos/Dêwâ – The word for “God”: Derived from Proto-Indo-European Déiwos, meaning “God”, but also having connotations of “Shining Ones” and “Celestial Ones”. The general idea is of a shining being of light. While the earliest term suggests a celestial nature, already by the time of the earliest inscriptions and sanctuaries, offerings are being put into pits and shafts, suggesting that the term came to be applied to Underworld beings as well. It needs to be noted that deities are not perfect beings, are in fact capable of making mistakes and doing wrong. While vastly more powerful and better than human beings, they are nevertheless of a similar nature to us. There is no clear demarcation between Gods and lesser irits, for the most part, either. The term can be applied to a vast range of supernatural beings.1

Divine Names: Divine names are mostly descriptive epithets that tell us something about the particular deity in question. Thus we have Rosmertâ, the “Good Provider”, or Sucellus, the “Good Striker”, or Taranis, “Thunder”, and so on. We don’t have “true names” of our Gods in the remonial Magick sense. Names do provide clues about the nature of deities, and may be used in meditation or ritual to connect with them. 2

Divine Symbols – Iconography: The greatest source of linkage to the true nature of our Gods comes from a consideration of their symbols. It is really in the realm of symbolism that the most important truths about the divine nature are conveyed. It must be pointed out that a given deity’s weapons or treasures are not possessions in the usual human sense. Rather, they are expressions of that God or Goddess’s inner essence, less property than a part of the deity, expressing profound truths about him or her. The symbols speak directly to the unconscious mind, and so can une us in”, so to speak, to the energy, the feel, the essence of a divine being. By meditating on the symbols of the Gods, and how these symbols relate to one another, we can bring our religion into our souls.

Divine Couples: One trait of specifically Continental Celtic deities needs mention. They often are grouped in divine couples, similar to the Shiva-Shakti of modern Hinduism. Thus, Mercury/Lugus is paired with Rosmertâ, Sucellus with Natnosueltâ, Grannus with Sironâ, and so on. We cannot be certain what these pairings meant. Certainly, they show signs of heaven-Earth pairing, with celestial-seeming male Gods being paired with Goddesses who seem to have characteristics related to Earth and fertility. In addition, the analogy of Shiva and Shakti may suggest that such vine couples may have represented a Goddess providing a power that is then wielded by a God. 3

Format: Where possible, I am going to follow a fairly standardized format in describing the “Intertribal” or “Major” Gaulish deities. We will give one of the most important names of that deity, and meaning of that name. We will give the leading other names and epithets attached to the deity, where it is clear from iconography and scholarship that the same deity is being described by multiple names. We will give the Interpretatio Romana of the deity. This is a Roman deity associated with the Gaulish deity by the Romans, owing to similar attributes. These are not the same deities, but rather other distinct beings with similar attributes, who can allow us to understand the deity better. We will then give Irish and Indo-European equivalents for the deity. These, again, are distinct, different individuals who play the same roles in related pantheons. We will find that the Irish, Indo-European, and Gaulish pantheons resemble one another very closely, with very similar structures, roles, and themes throughout. We will then give the realm of the deity, which is simply whether I think they live in Albios, Dumnos, this world, or some combination of the three. This is always just my opinion. Then, we will describe the iconography of the deity, as found in the archaeological evidence, if anything is in fact known. And finally, we will give a quick round-up of all the best scholarship on the deity and what these theories are. This is where I will also present my own opinions of and personal gnosis from the deity. I’m only moderately imaginative, so I will mostly be presenting the opinions of leading scholars, and letting you, dear reader, make up your own mind.

Polytheism and Science (II): Parmenides

Edward P. Butler in Noēseis

Parmenides of Elea in Southern Italy (fl. early 5th c. BCE) is commonly reckoned as the father of the mainstream tradition of ancient Hellenic philosophy, which was appropriated, at no small cost all around, by Christian and Muslim monotheists in the Middle Ages, to form, as Christian ideological hegemony waned, the core of the major European philosophies of the modern era—Descartes, Leibniz, Spinoza, Kant, Hegel—and which continues, albeit greatly problematized, to provide orientation to contemporary philosophy. This intellectual paternity of Parmenides has largely to do with his pioneering articulation of binary logic. What I would like to discuss here is the way in which Parmenides grounds binary logic in the theophany recounted in his poem, and, through this, how in general binary logic is rooted in polytheism.

The binary logic of Parmenides is not like the binary classification system particularly associated with the Pythagoreans in their famous table of opposites, and which is recorded by Aristotle (Metaphysics 986a22): limit/unlimited; odd/even; unity/plurality; right/left; male/female; rest/motion; straight/crooked; light/darkness; good/bad; square/oblong. Parmenides’ binary logic undermines the primacy of classificatory binarism like the Pythagorean table, and in the process, also establishes the very principle of metaphysical foundation by recourse to more radical principles. Parmenides’ ultimate binary—Being, which absolutely is, and Nonbeing, which absolutely is not—is indisputably more radical than the Pythagorean opposites. From this foundation, which is put forth in the first part of the poem, known as the Way of Truth (Alêtheia), the other kind of binary can be incorporated, and a version of this sort of oppositional cosmogony appears in the poem’s second part, the Way ofDoxa, or Appearance, in which ‘light’ and ‘night’ provide the dyadic substance of what appears. Clearly these are chosen, rather than any of the other opposites, because they are inherent to phenomenality, to appearance itself, which is permeated with evidence and with obscurity together (frag. 9.3).1 To be ‘apparent’ has a double meaning: it embodies the truth of what appears, but purely as it appears. It is only insofar as we fail to respect the logic of appearance itself that the other meaning comes into play, the sense of being merely apparent, and hencenot true.

Parmenides’ poem begins with a dramatic account of a spiritual journey he made in a chariot “upon the renowned [literally ‘of many words’, polyphêmon]2 road of the daimôn,”3 with an escort of Sun Maidens (Hêliades), who lead him to the House of Nyx (Night). I will not comment here on the significance of Parmenides’ soul-vehicle, the importance of mortality for Parmenides’ thought having been the subject of a recent study.4 Rather, I wish to emphasize the motif of revelation. The chariot arrives at the Gates of the Paths of Night and Day, at which point the Sun Maidens have “pushed back with their hands the veils from their heads,” (frag. 1.10). The Sun Maidens have thus doubly disclosed themselves, by “leaving the House of Night for the light,” and by unveiling. The Sun Maidens persuade Dikê, Justice, to open the gates.

At the house, Parmenides is received by a Goddess (thea) who is not otherwise named. Since She refers to “our house”, it would make sense to regard Her as Nyx, the ultimate oracular Goddess in Hellenic theology. Proclus, however, with an utterly mysterious specificity, refers to her as “the nymph Hypsipyle” (In Parm. 640), by which we should probably understand an epithet, “nymph of the high gate,” as gates (pylai) are repeatedly mentioned in frag. 1; but nothing more can be made of this. The rest of Parmenides’ poem consists of this Goddess’ speech to him, through which She promises that he will “learn all things, both the steadfast heart of well-rounded/well-lit5 truth, and the beliefs [doxa] of mortals, in which there is no true trust. But nevertheless you shall learn these things as well, how the things which seem [dokounta] had genuinely to be, permeating all things completely,” (frag. 1.28-32). The Goddess’ words at the end are ambiguous, and have occasioned much discussion, but what is indisputable is that Her teaching will include both a doctrine of truth and a doctrine of doxa, that is, of semblance, appearance, or belief, which are in one sense inherently untrustworthy, but also express a necessity of their own. What seems to be, may not truly be, but it does trulyseem. Doxa are genuine, dokimos, in that respect, in a play on words, and can thus sustain an account worthy of the Goddess. We are reminded again of the epistemological force of polytheistic affirmations that “All things are full of Gods” (Thales): there is an intelligibility appropriate to anything, however intrinsically obscure, whether in the depths of nature, or in the depths of the human mind, or on the fleeting and fluctuating surface of events.

The maidens from the House of Night enter into the light and push back their veils: what is common to the paths of Truth and of Appearance is disclosure, disclosure of Truth as true, of Appearance as apparent. Theophany is the real beyond the distinction of truth and appearance, but far from being “a single, undifferentiated unity,” as Gallop claims—utterly without justification but typical of modern scholarship—there are plainly many individuals there: the Sun Maidens, Nyx, Dikê, ‘Hypsipyle’, the Daimôn of frag. 12, Erôs, the indefinite totality of “all the Gods” mentioned in frag. 13, and others of whom it is less clear whether they are to be taken more as concepts than as deities, such as Anankê and Moira. Like Parmenides himself as the mortal subject of theophany, these Gods are the basis or support in the real for the dialectical testing or elenchos (frag. 7.5-6) embodied in the Goddess’ discourse, and must be, lest the latter undermine itself in paradox.

In this respect, we glimpse already, at the very beginning of Hellenic philosophy, something that will be explicitly articulated at its culmination: a domain prior to Being—for Being belongs to the Way of Truth in Parmenides’ poem. Just as in the Platonists of late antiquity, this domain beyond Being is that of the Gods, of individuals prior to essence, for essence is the product ofkrisis, of judgment, it is what has been tested through the elenchos the Goddess describes. This term, elenchos, or ‘refutation’ is used as well to refer to those dialogues of Plato’s which arrive at no definite solution, but in and through which concepts articulate themselves and things, as it were, argue for their being. But beyond truth and appearance, there is what simply discloses itself. This primordial disclosure is the primary activity of the Gods, it is theophany itself, and since theophany is the primary moment of ontology, along with theophany features basic to manifestation as such—logic, number, geometry—are imparted in their purest forms.

Binary logic, the it is or it isn’t, is the keystone of the Goddess’ discourse, and what She primarily wishes Parmenides to understand. In the form of on/off, or one/zero, it is also literally what the digital world, with its ‘logic gates’, is made of. But the binary nature of the Way of Truth is not like the binaries of the Pythagorean table. The opposites on the table are enantiomorphs, at once excluding and depending upon one another, but the Way of Truth cuts across them, for each in its way is, and on the Way of Truth there is only “that [it] is, and that [it] cannot not be,” on the one hand, and “that [it] is not and that [it] needs must not be,” (frag. 2) on the other. The traits of necessary being are woven all through things, and yet by coming to recognize these traits in their own right, they coalesce together, “because the same thing is there for thinking and for being” (frag. 3) and “things which, though far off, are yet firmly present to the mind” are not separated from one another—“you shall not cut off what-is from holding fast to what-is” (frag. 4).

The Way of Truth, therefore, is at once a criterion applied to each thing, and also produces something itself “ungenerated and imperishable, whole, single-limbed, steadfast, and complete … [it] is, now, all together, one, continuous” (frag. 8.3-6). On the Way of Truth we discover Being Itself, which is manifest along with everything that manifests itself. By thinking it, it is. It is not discovered in the sense that it was there, and then we found it, nor is it produced in the sense that it comes to be: in thinking, it is. A series of further determinations of being itself follow: it is indivisible (8.22); a plenum (24); a continuum (25); without beginning or end (27); unchanging (29); limited (31), but complete and lacking nothing (32-33); equal to itself in every way (49). It is being itself that is named, She explains, by all the things mortals posit as coming to be and passing away and changing in whatever fashion (38-41), which is to say no more, and no less, than that insofar as generation and destruction and transformation and mixture are, they are being; and this means that they are what being is, while being is not what they are—and it is this insight, the recognition of this asymmetry, which provides the transition to the cosmogony of appearance.

Dikê’s appearance in frag. 1 and again in frag. 8 (14-15) underscores that it is the Gods who, through Their presence in each of the poem’s sections, unite the multiple ‘paths’. But it must be remarked that modern commentators in general have not seen in the Gods any particular clue to the notorious difficulties of Parmenides’ poem, nor frankly taken account of them as anything more than allegorical decoration. But even if all of the Gods in the poem were reduced to conceptual equivalents, Parmenides’ logical insights would still be bounded by an irreducible field of forces, of mortality, agonism, and revelation; it would merely lack the secure grounding of entities whose manifestation, rather than bearing reference to Being, as beings do, is primarily productive of Being.

(The Greek text of Parmenides’ fragments, together with an English translation by John Burnet, are available from this site: http://philoctetes.free.fr/parmenides.htm.)

The Art of Being Led

River Devora in The Web of Blessings

Participating in Community, Holding Our Leaders Accountable

Polytheism as a religious identity is growing. And communities to support these old, new and emerging religions are growing too. As communities grow, leaders step up to help shape, guide, inspire, organize, and support these growing communities and the individuals within them. As leaders arise to guide new and expanding communities, it is important that we who are being led maintain active engagement with the shaping and maintenance of leadership structures. We must both support and feed our leaders while being prepared to hold them accountable to the standards we are shaping within our communities, and stay in dialogue with our leaders and with one another around what standards we want shaping our communities.

I’ve been seeing a lot of really excellent conversation over the past few months about leadership in the pagan and polytheist communities – sharing power, making space for new leaders, and how to be more graceful with power across age and experience differences. And I am so glad to see these conversations happening. But many of us are not in positions of leadership. And even if we are, there are still others whose leadership roles stretch over us in some way or another simply by being a person who is identified as a leader in a community we participate in or are identified with in some way or another. Regardless of whether or not we choose to take on a position of leadership, what do we do when our leaders behave in ways we wish they hadn’t? How do we hold our leaders accountable for the things they say and do? What ethical standards and community accountability models will we choose for ourselves as new leaders emerge in our newly forming or already existing communities? For many of us in many of our overlapping communities, these are more applicable questions.

There are several different types of leaders we find in our religious communities. And there are different levels of leadership with different levels of influence. Some folks are leaders because they start or help start groups that others decide to join. Some are leaders because they are elected to a leadership position in a group with an election process. Some are leaders because they write books, or because they teach classes. Some are leaders because they help design or organize major events or rituals, or perform in major events or rituals. Some are leaders because they serve on councils or are chosen to (or volunteer to) represent paganism or polytheism outside of these communities. Some serve as clergy. Some are musicians. Some own pagan, new age, or metaphysical shops or other businesses. Others are leaders because they write popular blogs or columns with loyal readership who are influenced by their ideas. Many who are considered leaders do more than one of these things.

Each person who might be considered a leader carries some amount of power and influence. That’s what it means to be a leader – leaders are the ones (hopefully) who get things done or make things happen, but leaders also (intentionally or unintentionally) help to shape the beliefs, thoughts and practices of those who look to them for leadership. Historically, many parts of the broader pagan and polytheist communities had “anti-authoritarian” roots, and many pagans are (understandably) uncomfortable with the idea of hierarchical power. This discomfort often leads to a complete denial of the existence of power structures, or a knee jerk reaction to discussions of power. While we who are polytheist may or may not also participate in pagan communities, because so much of the roots of the early pagan communities originate from these and other related movements in the 70s and 80s, we may very well find ourselves influenced by these roots as well.

When we can’t comfortably talk about power, we lose the ability to be responsible with our own power, and we can’t accurately assess the power we are giving to our leaders. We also lose the ability to hold our leaders accountable. But the truth is, we who are led are the ones who give our leaders their power. We decide (or at least we *should* be deciding) to allow them to influence us and our communities. The relationship between a community and its leaders is a type of explicit or implicit contract – the community agrees to be led in exchange for giving that leader respect, power, and influence. The leader agrees to lead (and to work on behalf of that community, by performing the services and duties that their form of leadership requires) in exchange for the community giving them power, respect and influence. Imagine a horse and rider. The rider decides where the horse goes, but if the horse decided it did not want to be led, the little human on its back would not be able to do much other than hold on and hope they didn’t get thrown.

Of course, in order for a horse to accept a rider, it must be trained (sometimes referred to as “broken”). We have all been trained, to varying degrees, to accept some amount of leadership. But horses are still bigger than a single human rider; communities are still stronger than any one leader. When our leaders are leading us in directions that we know are wrong, it us up to us, the communities that give them their power and their legitimacy, to take the reins back.

In the past several months, I have witnessed several prominent Heathen leaders be outed as having racist ideology. Many of us who have been in the Heathen community for any amount of time all knew these leaders espoused varying levels of racist ideologies, but folks outside of Heathenry began to notice as these leaders became more public with their beliefs (posting publically visible racist memes on Facebook, specifically). So what as a Heathen community are we to do? If we claim that these individuals are not “really” Heathens (as I’ve seen some folks do), we run into dangerous territory. By forswearing them, we forfeit any ability to hold them accountable. We also open the door for anyone to declare any other person not really a Heathen (or insert your tradition of choice here) for differences in belief and action. At the same time, I certainly do not want anyone to mistake what I believe for what these public Heathen figures believe.

It is on us, the community being led, to hold our leaders accountable. To demand that our leaders serve as ethically and wisely as they are able. And to remove them from influence when they are creating influences that we don’t want shaping our communities.

What does holding leaders accountable look like? Some of this depends on the size of the community, the scope of influence of that leader, the nature of their leadership role, and the relationship we have to them. Sometimes accountability looks like pulling a leader aside privately and having a difficult conversation about their statements or actions. Sometimes it might mean making a public statement, organizing a petition, writing an open letter, leaving a group that you just can’t ethically continue to participate in. Sometimes it might mean electing a new leader, if there is an election process in place. Sometimes it means starting a new group, and stepping into your own leadership, while being transparent and public around your motivations and process. Though if you decide to go this last route, be sure not to fall into the same traps that caused you to leave the last group – consider getting additional training if needed, and consider working collaboratively with others.

It is also important to be clear about what we expect from our own leaders, and to assess whether or not these expectations are realistic, just as it is important for leaders to assess for themselves what their role is and whether or not they have the skills to execute that role effectively. Many smaller “subculture” type communities are notorious for “eating their leaders”, and I have certainly seen this happen at times over the years in the polytheist communities in which I have participated. Well-meaning folks step into positions of leadership because they love their tradition or spirituality, or because they have a vision of what kind of group they want to participate in. Sometimes folks start groups or assume other types of leadership roles because they feel a calling to do so. But even when there is a calling, leadership is a big responsibility. Others rely on the leader for direction, regardless of the type of leader. It is reasonable to expect a leader to fulfil whatever leadership role they have chosen to assume (clergy, writer, group leader, etc.). It is not reasonable to expect a leader to act outside of their proscribed leadership role, nor is it reasonable for a leader to assume that because they have taken on some kind of specific leadership role, that they have the needed skills to handle situations that would normally involve additional training that they do not possess (assume a journalist should also lead rituals; assume an administrative leader of a group should also write liturgy; assume that having attained some kind of tradition-specific spiritual elevation confers the ability to mediate disputes or provide psychological counseling without additional training in those disciplines; etc.).

Some of the leadership challenges in our communities arise from a lack of adequate training. Some of the challenges arise from the unwillingness of many leaders to recognize that they need additional training, or not knowing what kind of training would most benefit them, or not knowing where to go to get trained once they figure out their own missing competencies. There are groups that are beginning to offer more training opportunities for pagan and polytheist leaders, though many of those groups continue to mostly offer spiritual or religious training rather than training in group facilitation and mediation. And many of these training opportunities (though not all) are more appropriate for pagan or Wiccan leaders and may not be applicable for polytheist leaders. Furthermore, there is often a disdain for mainstream leadership training opportunities (like conflict resolution courses, sensitivity trainings, etc.), and sometimes it is as simple as folks not knowing what training opportunities would make the most sense for them to pursue.

It is on us, the community, to take care of our leaders – leadership done well is a precious resource to a community. Our leaders help us understand and shape our religious practices, create opportunities for us to gather as community for religious or social support, they take care of us, inspire us, challenge us, move us forward, organize us and support our growth as individuals and as communities. But if we want our communities to flourish, we need our leaders to be ethical, competent, well supported, and well trained. It is on each of us who are not leaders to help shape communities where leaders are held accountable, where our official groups are well organized with clear organizational structures (including clearly delineated leadership roles and responsibilities). It is on us to support our leaders so they can best serve us, and to be realistic and respectful about what we expect to get from our leaders.

It is also on us, the community, to take responsibility for our own leaders, being willing to speak up when our leaders behave in ways that we don’t deem acceptable by our community standards. If a leader makes racist statements, or tries to shape discriminatory policies for our groups, or sexually harasses or assaults community members, it is on us to step up as a community and say no, you don’t get to do that kind of thing and continue to have the privilege of leading us. We as the community are not at the mercy of our leaders. We are in a contracted relationship with them, and they lead because we let them.

As we continue to grow and shape our communities, we need to be thoughtful, clear and intentional in how we shape our community ethics and standards, in how we shape our contracts with our leaders, and in how we shape our accountability structures. There is too much at stake for us to do otherwise.

Atriâ Dêwon – The Genealogy of the Gods

Segomâros Widugeni in Nemeton Segomâros

This rather lengthy poem was written in fits and starts of inspiration over the course of a couple weeks. It has been only minimally checked as to vocabulary and grammar. I use words from the Old Celtic Lexicon, which specifically says not to use it as a citable source, so from a scholarly point of view, the poem is already beyond the pale. I also don’t like the repetitiveness of some of it. “Thus and so is a God/dess” at the beginning and end of each stanza hardly seems inspired, but it’s the best I can do. For the most part, I wrote it in Gaulish first, then translated it into English and did what little checking I have done.

It’s written in an attempt at an 11 syllable meter, with a caesura, alliteration, and some rhyme here and there. I can’t keep it up with anything like consistency, though, so my metrical scheme is more aspiration than reality.

As to the contents of the poem, it’s mostly a laundry list of deities and spirits, with hints of another creation myth different from Adbertos Yemoni, as well as bits and pieces of other myths and a few bits of genealogy. It more hints at things than spells them out, but a lot of real old Celtic language poetry is like that. There no attempt to credit the numberless influences on the poem. I wrote in such a state that I can hardly remember where this or that bit came from in any case. Most of it is standard stuff that will get credited in later discussions. However, I can’t promise to stick consistently with this poem when the time comes to actually talk about Gods. My discussion of deities in the column will be scholarship mixed with some UPG. This is neither. This is art.

A few credits I do remember: my take is Maponus is informed by some discussions with Christopher Scott Thompson about this deity. My discussion of Cernunnos owes a little to the work of C. Lee Vermeers, Ceisiwr Serith, and Frances Fray Bober on this deity, though departs from their visions in various ways. Serith’s work also informs my perspective on Grannus. Michael Enright’s Lady with a Mead Cup informs my take on Rosmertâ. My perspective on Lugus is powerfully influenced by an article by John Koch entitled Further to tongu do dia toinges mo thuath [“Mi a dyngaf dynged it”], &c. My take on several Goddesses is coming to be influenced by that of Morpheus Ravenna, from her not-yet-published Book of the Great Queen, though there are other influences as well.

Sos sentî Dêwoi Galetion				So estî kordâ Dêwon
Dêwoi senoi, au kentê					Au dumnê, au nemê
Atriyâ Dêwon noibon					Dêwon toutânon
Dêwoi eti Dêwâs						Sos sentî Dêwoi Galetion.
 
Anderoi buwânt cintus					Are Bitun, in dumnê
Anderoi drukoi waxtoic					Trebânt in gruwosman
Au Anderobi encât					Rîganâ encât swâ
Rîganâ Dêwâ Cintâ					Matir Dêwon swâ

Taranis estî atir					Atir Dêwon in nemê
Dêwos Nemi, Loucetic					Dêwos Rotâs Sleibic
Estîs Marwetos Drîgos					Dêwos Wiriâs, swâ
Dêwos co Gutê Mârê					Taranis estî atir
 
Eponâ estî Rîganâ					Rîganâ Epon swâ
Rîganâ Talamonos					Rîganâ Eporedon
Rîganâ Ulati swâ					Ulati Toutâs
Areletiâ Marwon						Eponâ estî Rîganâ
 
Rosmertâ estî Rîganâ					Uidluâ Mârâ
Rîganâ Medi Ulati					Ulati Coryi,
Co slatî Uidluâs swâ					Dêwâ Toncnaman
Wegyet ollon estîyo					Rosmertâ estî Rîganâ
 
Lugus estî Tigernos					Dêwos Gaisi swâ
Estîs Gnatos Cernunni					Marwetos Durîgos
Estîs Tigernos Coryi swâ				Dêwos Lugyâs swâ
Toncâtyo Toncnamnûs					Lugus estî Tigernos
 
Boduâ estî Rîganâ					Rîganâ Cathon
Cathuboduâ estsi swâ					Dêwâ Orgeton
Tigernâ Cingeton swâ					Delgetyâ eyonon Batûs
Cantletyâ Toncnamnûs					Boduâ estî Rîganâ
 
Camulus estî Dêwos					Estîs Dêwos Cathi
Estîs Rudianus swâ					Estîs Rudiobus swâ
Estîs Cauâros Mâros					Dêwos co Cladebê
Detyo alboudion swâ					Camulus estî Dêwos
 
Nantosueltâ Rîganâ					Estsi Rîganâ Dumni
Rîganâ Ulani swâ					Dêwâ Tegoslougi
Detyâ ollon dagon swâ					Rîganâ Bekon
Detyâ knutûs argantonc					Nantosueltâ Rîganâ
 
Sucellus estî Dêwos					Estîs Dêwos Dumni swâ
Dêwos co Ordê Mârê					Co Pannî Ulani
Detyos ollon dagon swâ					Dêwos Donnos Mâros
Detyo knutûs argontonc					Sucellus estî Dêwos
 
Briganâ estî Dêwâ					Dêwâ Aidletâs
Dêwâ Aidi Windi swâ					Duxtir Taranês swâ
Dêwâ Medii Noibi swâ					Eti Dêwâ Briganton
Dêwâ Tegoslougi swâ					Briganâ estî Dêwâ
 
Cernunnos estî Dêwos					Atir Noibos Lugi
Diclawetos Cingi					Cingi Dêwobo swâ
Areletios Marwon					Pennosenisteros
Eti Rîxs Marwon swâ					Cernunnos estî Dêwos
 
Sironâ estî Dêwâ estsi					Dêwâ Lugrâs
Dêwâ Admessarâs swâ					Rîganâ Tsirânon
Estsi Dêwâ Natrigon					Dêwâ Andounânon
Detyâ Slaniin swâ					Sironâ estî Dêwâ
 
Grannus estî Dêwos					estîs Dêwos Louki
Dêwos Teni in Dubrê					delgetyo Andounnin
Andounnin Slaniâs swâ					Liyagos estîs swâ
Liyagos welisamos					Grannus estî Dêwos
 
Sulis estî Dêwâ						Dêwâ Sâwelii
Dêwâ Roudii Baragii					Dêwâ Dii Windi
Dêwâ Letonoxtii swâ					Weletyâ ollon swâ
Eti dede slaniin					Sulis estî Dêwâ
 
Ogmios estî Dêwos					Estîs Dêwos Nertos
Dêwos Lânos Galâs swâ					Dêwos Caletos swâ
Dêwos Dungwi Arganti					Dêwos Lânos Wati
Estîs Dêwos Senos swâ					Ogmios estî Dêwos
 
Maponos estî Dêwos					Dêwos Yowinkos swâ
Wonesâtyo in Dumnon					wer trition dion
Trebâtyo intir Anderûs					Wisset Brixtom Anderon
Wermonasyo in Bitun					Maponus estî Dêwos
 
Toutatîs sentî Dêwoi					Dêwoi Toutânon swâ
Sentei Dêwoi Contrebion					Dêwoi Trebânon swâ
Cauaroi Toutânon swâ					Dêwoi Cnocon Caitonc
Menekos Senisteroi					Toutatîs sentî Dêwoi
 
Toutodêwâs sentî swâ					Dêwâs Toutânon swâ
Sentsies Dêwâs Contrebion				Dêwâs Trebânon swâ
Tigernâs Talamwos swâ					Dêwâs Abonânon
Co ulatê wer brogion					Toutodêwâs sentî swâ
 
Dêwâs Matres sentî					Dêwâs Toutânon swâ
Sentsies Dêwâs Contrebion				Dewâs Trebânon swâ
Toni Dêwâs Weniânon					Wegyontyâs Toncnaman
Menekos Senisterâs					Dêwâs Matres Sentî
 
Talamodêwoi sentî					Dêwoi biccoi papâs pettiâs
Papi Clocci, Papi Prenni				eti Papi Tegi
Dusioi sentî allatoi					Trebânt in caitê swâ
Bongent prennûs knutûs swâ				Dusioi sentî allatoi
 
Anderoi trebânt in Dumnê				In gruwosmnê swâ
Trebânt ander bitun swâ					Co brixtom nerton swâ
Anderoi drukoi waxtoic					Anderoi wissacoi
Pos trebânt in gruwosmnê				Anderoi trebânt in Dumnê
 
Sos sentî Dêwoi Galetion				So estî kordâ Dêwon
Dêwoi senoi, au kentê					Au dumnê, au nemê
Atriyâ Dêwon noibon					Dêwon toutânon
Dêwoi eti Dêwâs						Sos sentî Dêwoi Galetion.
 
 
 
These are the God of the Galatîs			This is the company of the Gods
The Old Gods, from the beginning			From the Underworld, from Heaven
The Genealogy of the Holy Gods				The Gods of the Tribes
The Gods and Goddesses					These are the Gods of the Galatîs
 
The Anderoi were first					Before the world, in the Underworld
The Aneroi evil and bad					Lived in the darkness
From the Anderoi came					The Queen came, so
The Queen, the First Goddess				The Mother of the Gods, so.
 
Taranis is Father					Father of the Gods, in Heaven
The God of Heaven, and of Lightning			The God of the Wheel, and of the Mountain
He is the Slayer of the Dragon				The God of Truth, so
The God with the Great Voice,				Taranis is Father.
 
Eponâ is a Queen					Queen of Horses, so
Queen of the Earth,					Queen of Cavalry
Queen of Sovereignty, so				Sovereignty of the Tribe
Guide of the Dead,					Eponâ is a Queen.
 
Rosmertâ is a Queen					The Great Seeress
Queen of the Mead of Sovereignty			Sovereignty of the Warband
With the Wand of the Seeress, so			Goddess of Fate
Who Weaves All Things					Rosmertâ is a Queen
 
Lugus is Lord,						The God of the Spear, so
He is the Son of Cernunnos				the Slayer of the Evil King
He is the Lord of the Warband, so			the God of the Oath, so
Who Swears Destinies					Lugus is Lord
 
Boduâ is a Queen					Queen of Battles
Cathuboduâ She is, so					The Goddess of Slaughters
The Lady of Heroes, so					Who holds their deaths
Who sings fates						Boduâ is a Queen
 
Camulus is a God					He is the God of Battle
He is Rudianus, so					He is Rudiobus, so
He is a Great Hero					The God with the Sword,
Who gives all victory, so				Camulus is a God
 
Nantosueltâ Queen					Is the Queen of the Underworld
The Queen of Abundance, so				The Queen of the Household
Who gives all good, so					The Queen of Bees
She gives crops and silver				Queen Nantosueltâ
 
Sucellus is a God					He is God of the Underworld, so
The God with the Great Hammer				The God with the Cup of Abundance
Who gives all good, so					The Great Dark Lord
Who gives crops and silver				Sucellus is a God
 
Briganâ is a Goddess					The Goddess of the Hearth
The Goddess of the Shining Flame, so			The Daughter of Taranis, so
The Goddess of the Sacred Center, so			And the Goddess of High Places
The Goddess of the Household, so			Briganâ is a Goddess
 
Cernunnos is a God					The Holy Father of Lugus
The Opener of the Way					The Way to the Gods, so
The Guide of the Dead					The First Ancestor
And the King of the Dead, so				Cernunnos is a God
 
Sironâ is a Goddess					She is the Goddess of the Moon
The Goddess of Time, so					The Queen of the Stars
She is the Goddess of Serpents				The Goddess of Wells
Who Gives Health/Safety, so				Sironâ is a Goddess
 
Grannus is a God					He is the God of Light
The God of Fire in Water				Who Keeps the Well
The Well of Health/Safety, so				He is a Physician, so
The Greatest of Physicians				Grannus is a God
 
Sulis is a Goddess					The Goddess of the Sun
The Goddess of Red Morning				The Goddess of the Shining Day
The Goddess of Twlight, so				Who Sees All, so
And gives health/safety					Sulis is a Goddess
 
Ogmios is a God						He is a Mighty God
A God Full of Warrior Rage, so				A Hard God, so
The Silver Tongued God					The God Full of Inspiration
He is an old God, so					Ogmios is a God
 
Maponus is a God					He is the Younng God, so
Who Descended into Dumnos				On the Third Day
Who lived among the Anderoi				Who knows the Magic of the Anderoi
Who Rose into the World					Maponus is a God
 
Toutatîs are Gods					Gods of Tribes, so
They are Gods of Districts				Gods of Settlements, so
Heroes of Tribes, so					Gods of Hills and Forests
Often Ancestors						Toutatîs are Gods
 
Toutodêwâs are, so					Goddesses of Tribes, so
They are Goddesses of Districts				Goddesses of Settlements, so
Ladies is the Land, so					Goddesses of Rivers
With Sovereignty over Countries				Toutodêwâs are, so
 
The Dêwâs Matres are					The Goddesses of Tribes, so
They are the Goddesses of Districts			Goddesses of Settlements, so
Also the Goddesses of Families				Who Weave Fate
Often Female Ancestors					The Dêwâs Matres are
 
The Talamodêwoi are					The Small Gods of Each Thing
Each Stone, Each Tree					And of Each House
The Dusioi are wild					They live in the forest, so
They break trees and crops				The Dusioi are wild
 
The Anderoi dwell in Dumnos				in the darkness, so
They dwell under the world, so				with mighty magic, so
The Anderoi evil and bad				The Wise Anderoi
Who dwell in the darkness				The Anderoi dwell in Dumnos
 
These are the God of the Galatîs			This is the company of the Gods
The Old Gods, from the beginning			From the Underworld, from Heaven
The Genealogy of the Holy Gods				The Gods of the Tribes
The Gods and Goddesses					These are the Gods of the Galatîs