Monday, February 28, 2011

Dianic Rites, Gender Identification and Gender Essentialism

At a recent womyn's ritual to Lilith at Pantheacon, several transgender MtFs were turned away at the door and told that the ceremony was only for "women born women."  While the organizers and the event sponsors work toward a mutually agreeable compromise and consensus, the blogosphere continues to hum with the questions of what happens when the right to gender identity and freedom of association and religious expression run headlong into each other. And though there has been a great deal of heat, we have also seen a fair amount of enlightening discourse.

Anya Kless, a priestess of Lilith, offered commentary on Fruit of Pain, and received a rather heated response from legendary witch and elder Z Budapest.  Budapest's post follows, as does my response.  There is a great deal more discussion on Anya's blog regarding this and many other topics: if you haven't bookmarked Fruit of Pain yet, you really should.

Z Budapest in italics.

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This struggle has been going since the Women’s Mysteries first appeared. These individuals selfishly never think about the following: if women allow men to be incorporated into Dianic Mysteries,What will women own on their own? Nothing! Again! Transies who attack us only care about themselves.
We women need our own culture, our own resourcing, our own traditions.

You can tell these are men, They don’t care if women loose the Only tradition reclaimed after much research and practice ,the Dianic Tradition. Men simply want in. its their will. How dare us women not let them in and give away the ONLY spiritual home we have!

Men want to worship the Goddess? Why not put in the WORK and create your own trads. The order of ATTIS for example,(dormant since the 4rth century) used to be for trans gendered people, also the castrata, men who castrated themselves to be more like the Goddess.

Why are we the ONLY tradition they want? Go Gardnerian!Go Druid! Go Ecclectic!

Filled with women, and men. They would fit fine.

But if you claim to be one of us, you have to have sometimes in your life a womb, and overies and MOON bleed and not die.


Women are born not made by men on operating tables.


This comment ill suits your status as an Elder, a Witch, and one of the most important philosophers and thinkers in contemporary Feminism and Neopaganism. I urge you to consider the importance of your words, and to remember that there are sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, lovers and allies on both sides of this argument. If we must disagree, let us do so in a spirit of love. If there must be boundaries between us, let them be drawn in a spirit of cooperation.

I do not dispute the right of CAYA, or any other Dianic group, to define “Womyn” as they see fit. I accept your right to exclude me. Since I identify as third-gendered rather than female, I would never seek entry into your Mysteries. I also accept your right to exclude my transgendered sisters or anyone else whom I might identify as a woman. They are your Mysteries, and you are welcome to share them as you will. I respect your rights to association, belief and expression.

However, I also respect the right of my transgendered sisters to their identity – an identity for which they have suffered and for which they continue to suffer. I will speak out against discrimination and hatred when it is aimed at them, and I will encourage others to do so. If Dianic Wiccans wish to shut out transgendered women from public events held by Pantheacon (particularly if they do so with hateful remarks about “being made on operating tables” and the like), I would encourage the organizers of Pantheacon to withdraw their public support for those workshops and those rituals.

This would not stop Dianics from holding private ceremonies and rituals in their own suites, as many groups do. And just as the OTO or other lodges and orders can restrict events to members only, the Dianic groups would be free to open their doors to whomever they saw fit. This would strike me as an appropriate compromise which would at least go some way toward acknowledging everyone’s rights and feelings. (Granted, it’s sure to dissatisfy just about everyone on one level or another, but that’s the nature of compromise).

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Catholicism, Paganism, Interfaith Dialogue and the Wild Hunt

In a recent Wild Hunt posting, Jason Pitzl-Waters discussed Elizabeth "Liz" Dodd, a onetime Witch whose spiritual quest led her to Roman Catholicism.  As always, Jason presented the case fairly and clearly.  His criticisms of "conversion narratives" and his questions about Dodd's motivations and research skills were trenchant without being strident or hysterical.  Still, I wonder if we might not approach the phenomenon of Liz Dodd in a slightly different manner.   Any interfaith dialogue must begin with people who do not understand each other's spiritual motivations.  And I wonder if Jason was unfairly dismissive when he wrote:
Dodd wants it both ways, she wants to be seen as the “real deal” when she talks about her time as a Witch, but her own biography is that of a seeker, a dabbler, who simply rebelled for a time against her childhood faith (later in the article she talks of a post-Pagan period where she was a “vegan Buddhist”).
If Pagan cyberspace is any indication, there are many Witches who are indeed seekers and dabblers rebelling against their childhood faith.  And Dodd is hardly the first Witch who was introduced to the faith by Silver Ravenwolf: neither do her motivations distinguish her from many another young Witch:
... As a teenager, with only a limited amount of say in what I'd have for dinner, for example, the idea of unmitigated supernatural power, coupled with such a self-governed morality, was very appealing.  My interest in Wicca increased, even in the face of frequent magickal failure. In the booklet I suggest that Wicca can be an important stage in spiritual growth for a young person. Like many of my generation, I was looking for a religious home. Wicca is far removed from mainstream western religion; it has no hierarchy or clergy, no central texts or commandments. It is a framework upon which young, spiritually hungry people can construct a religious identity independent of their parents.
Neopaganism/Goddess Spirituality in America is still largely a religion of converts.  We can expect to see a large number of "seekers and dabblers" passing through: many, like Dodd, will move on to other spiritual pursuits.  We can benefit from exploring both the reasons why they were attracted to the movement and the reasons why they ultimately found it unfulfilling. 

Dodd complains of a lack of depth and scholarship within modern Neopaganism and Occultism. I think it is fair to say that we have not yet produced a MaimonidesAvicenna or St. John of the Cross  and equally fair to say that there's a whole lot of sloppy scholarship and embarrassingly bad Neopagan material on the market and on the web.  That is not to say that there is no depth or breadth to be found in Neopaganism - but it certainly isn't as large, visible or accessible as in traditions with a longer history and greater social capital. 

Interfaith dialogue gives us the opportunity to rectify mutual misunderstandings.  It also gives us a chance to compare and contrast our approaches and to discover areas where we might be doing better.  We need not win Liz Dodd back: if she has found satisfaction in her Catholic faith, then why would we wish to take that away from her? But we should recognize her sincere if flawed attempt to engage with our faith and give her the same courtesy.

And before I go, two more minor nits.  I'd say that the "religion" Dodd was describing - Solitary Witchcraft/Solo Neopaganism - is indeed around 20 years old, having begun about the time Scott Cunningham released Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner.  I would also note that struggling with one's faith has a long and honored tradition within Catholicism and most other religious traditions.  If Dodd's struggles with her faith are a sign of "spiritual immaturity," then what are we to make of that poor bastard Job?

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

On My Recent Hiatus

Since my father died I have been dealing with a lot of personal stuff.  While I didn't feel comfortable discussing some of these issues in a public forum,  I have been making a number of friends-locked entries to my old Livejournal account.   I hope to be posting here more frequently in the near future: for now I will happily provide access to these posts to just about anyone who sends a friend request.  

I am sorry for the absence and hope I have not missed too much while I have been away.  I've really missed the conversations here and look forward to rejoining this corner of the blogosphere soon!

Friday, January 14, 2011

Suicide Bombers, Martyrs, and the Will to Die

It's easy to offer moral condemnations against suicide bombing.  Most of us agree that killing and maiming innocents is a bad thing: absent a few special conditions there's very little support for suicide.  The highly-charged political context makes the subject even touchier.  Some use suicide bombings as evidence of Islam's inherent savagery and barbarism.  Others use it to promote the heroic struggle against Zionists and other infidels.  In their search to explain the phenomenon away with one political cause or another, few have neglected what suicide bombing says about our shared human condition.

("Martyr" here means an individual who chooses to die knowingly and wilfullly for one cause or another.  They may die for religion, politics, ethnic identity, or any other cause which they find important.  This does not imply that their cause is correct: you can die for a bad cause as surely as a good one).

It is also tempting to see martyrdom as the individual sublimated to (or deceived by) a larger group or idea.  Doing so helps minimize act and actor alike. Terrified with the idea that someone might freely choose death, we comfort ourselves with words like "brainwashing" and "fanaticism" by shadowy conspirators.  Yet even the most fanatical brainwashing conspiracies produce comparatively few martyrs. Out of all their peers who experienced the same oppression and heard the same speeches, what inspires the martyr to go down this road?

There are many ways by which one might find a sense of purpose in the world.  Family, job, friends, ethnicity, sexual orientation, musical taste, fashion choices - all these can be used to claim membership in one group or another.  Most who join a group see it as an important part of their lives, not a central part of their identity.  They value its teachings and find solace and support therein.  It becomes a part of their life: it helps them to better function as parents, spouses, employees, and all the other roles which they must play.  But for some that is not enough.  They find no satisfaction in the roles which so engross their fellow congregants, nor do the exterior trappings of their group bring any greater satisfaction.  Because they see nothing worth living for, they choose instead to die.

Without great belief one cannot have great doubt.  There is a deep terror behind the martyr's fervor: it is a fear not of death but of meaninglessness.  Martyrs are keenly aware of all our injustices, excesses, failings and flaws. They want something which will make things right, or at least explain why they went so wrong: they want to know that there is some reason for all this misery.  If they cling tightly to their ideology, it is only because they understand the ramifications of unbelief. They seek a death with meaning, on their own terms, rather than a purposeless, powerless life.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Jared Lee Loughner and the Politics of Madness

In the aftermath of January 8's Tucson massacre, MSNBC's Keith Olbermann suggested shooter Jared Loughner was inspired by comments from Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Bill O'Reilly and Sharon AngleRush Limbaugh claimed that the Democrats "seeks to profit" from the attack on Democratic congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, and that Loughner was "fully supported" by Democrats who were attempting "to find anybody but him to blame.  [Loughner] knows if he plays his cards right, he's just a victim." Amidst all the spin and coverage-jockeying one fact became increasingly clear: Loughner was clearly and desperately mentally ill.

Mentally ill adults who receive treatment in the U.S. public-health system die an average of 25 years sooner than Americans overall... and even this help is growing increasingly scarce.  Campus police at Pima Community College had numerous reports describing Loughner, a former student, as "creepy," "very hostile" and "suspicious."  Ultimately he was suspended and told he could return only after presenting a letter from a mental health professional certifying he was not a threat. Yet Loughner received neither voluntary nor involuntary treatment for his illness, in part because the 2010 budget for Arizona's mental health services was slashed $36 million (37%) from 2009 levels.

As is all too commonplace in America, punitive solutions receive more attention than therapeutic ones.  The Tucson massacre will likely lead not to wider availability of counseling and treatment but to greater use of involuntary commitment - a procedure which has led to many abuses.  To declare someone mentally ill is to disempower them, to declare them incompetent to exercise their rights.  Psychiatric commitment has been used against political dissidents in the Soviet Union, China and the United States, among other places. Today prisons serve as a replacement for mental hospitals: do we want mental hospitals to take the place of prisons?

As Loughner's crime commands ever more press coverage, conflicts drag on in Afghanistan and Iraq.  Neither Democrats nor Republicans seem interested in substantive reforms to our broken financial markets, nor does either party seem aware that for much of America our recession has been a depression for years.  The Tucson massacre evokes not only Foucault but Debord: it becomes a spectacle which brings the community together whilst distracting it from greater problems.  When they get done using Loughner to gain political points against their opponents, Democrats and Republicans will use him to join together in a symbolic "unity" and offer platitudes about peace and toleration.  Liberals, Conservatives and Independents will with one voice condemn the "insane" acts of a "crazy" killer and promise to be nicer to each other henceforth.  It is unlikely  that this camaraderie will bring any improvements to the lives of the mentally ill or protect us from the next Jared Loughner driven to violence by an untreated disease.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Response to a Blog Post on Patheos

In response to Nate Adams' recent article on Patheos, "Don't Let the Grinch Steal Christmas," I was inspired to pen (OK, type) the following. I originally posted this to my Facebook page but realized that it was a bit long for that brief quote-loving medium. And so I have placed it here: I've also taken the opportunity to do a bit of editing for style and grammar.
*****
Nate: well written, even if I don't entirely agree with you.  I am 100% behind your idea that we should celebrate Christmas with numerous religious displays. I would be thrilled to see Jewish, Islamic and Hindu holidays receive recognition at the public square, along with Pagan celebrations of Yuletide and Zoroastrian tributes to Nawruz. And I'd even be happy to see a shrine to Free Thought, Secularism and Atheism alongside all these.

The problem is that in many American towns and cities Christianity is the de facto standard. People in these communities see America as a Christian nation and look askance at those who do not share their beliefs. Christmas celebrations become yet another way of ostracizing those who don't follow the majority beliefs. (Ask some of your Jewish colleagues, particularly those who grew up in a town where they were among the only Jews in the area, about their Christmas memories). I don't have any objection to a Creche if others have no objection to my Vodou-inspired shrine to St. Nicholas or my friend's shrine to Odin. The problem is that many people do.

Many places have found it easier to avoid the numerous problems altogether by limiting or banning religious imagery in the name of keeping Church and State separate. Litigation is expensive and most municipalities would rather avoid it if possible.  (This, of course, does not necessarily apply to showboating politicians or attention-seekers on either side of the argument). I agree that there is an issue of tolerance here and that the public square should be open to any displays of public religious feeling (within reason, of course) rather than to none. But as we all know, law and politics are both arts of the possible. What we have right now may be the best we can get in our current polarized and hot-tempered climate.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Donald Lewis Filan 1931-2010

My parents divorced when I was nine: I barely saw my father after 1974.  He married his second wife soon after his divorce from my mother became final, and they have been together since that time.  I carried my grief and my anger about their separation for a very long time.  Sometimes I blamed my mother, sometimes I blamed my father: more often I blamed both.

By the time I finally came to some sort of terms with my loss my mother was dead and my father long established in a new family.  We had gone from estranged to strangers: while we made a few halting and painful efforts at re-establishing some sort of relationship, they never amounted to anything. When love and grief become too painful, you learn to lock them up and keep them safe.  One grows accustomed to absence: it is so much more reliable and predictable than presence.  And so both of us continued on with the families we had chosen, doing the best we could with what we had.

We touched upon that a bit in our last conversation, a little over a year ago.  We knew by then that the distance between us was insurmountable. But we no longer blamed each other for the rift.  The anger was gone and the hurt had long since faded to a dull ache.

Rest in peace, Dad.  I am glad we made it to absolution even if we could never find our way back to love.