Maxim Monday: Be (religiously) silent (Ευφημος ιοθι)

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#delphicmaxims, #paganvalues, Delphic Maxims, maxim monday, religion

Disclaimer: I wrote this last week Tuesday and scheduled it to post today. I forgot about it until just now… If it seems a bit blasé or like it was written with a bit more levity than one might expect in the aftermath of the terror attacks last week, it is. I thought about taking it down and rewriting it, or just holding on to it for a while…but too much levity or not, its something that needs to be said.

You may or may not have noticed, but there’s whole lotta “holier than thou” goin’ on ’round the internet. From Starbucks cups to the literal polytheist vs everyone else match #892 Pagan Blogosphere bitchfest, there isn’t a corner of the internet where someone isn’t thinking someone else is doing religion wrong, while their oh-so-persecuted selves are the only one doing it right.

I have been inspired to discuss my oh, so favorite Delphic Maxim. I call this the “religion is like a penis” maxim. You know how the saying goes (though there are a few variations)…

Look, everyone has an opinion on the nature of the Divine (whether it be one god, many, or none, or something else altogether).  And everyone has (or has interpreted) experiences that have convinced them that their opinion of the Divine is the *right for them* opinion of the Divine.  But somehow, *right for them* just becomes *right*.  And then it seems to follow that since we are *right*, everyone that disagrees with us must have the *wrong* opinion.  And of course, if they actually think that their opinion is the *right* opinion, it must be because they have decided that they are somehow *better* than those of us that think in this other way.  And if they think they are *better* thank we are, then it follows that we should be personally insulted!  And since we have been personally insulted, we must immediately get angry and Defend The Faith.

But I can’t help but think that when we feel the need to Defend The Faith against those whose personal experiences and interpretations of those experiences differ from our own*, that we do so from a place of insecurity.  Because if the gods are, indeed, literal and discrete entities with capability that far outstrip those of mankind, then those gods should have the capacity to inform those *wrong* worshippers that they are, indeed, actually *wrong* in a way that they would be heard and understood…but if they aren’t actually doing that, then it seems like it should follow that maybe they (the gods) don’t actually care as much as we do about either orthodoxy or orthopraxy.  Else, the people making these sorts of doctrinal tests are really no better than some of the more obnoxious fundamentalist Christian denominations.

When we open our big, fat mouths and proclaim that we understand the substance and nature and desires and will of the Divine for each and every single of the several billion people upon this planet, we look like a jerk.  Claiming to know the will of the gods is pretty much the ultimate hubris.  Our experiences of the gods are individual experiences.  Certainly, they are often shared among people with common beliefs (by the way, there are likely evolutionary reasons for that–both biological and cultural), but there are also differences in those experiences.  And if we can’t talk about our religion without waving it in air and whacking people over the head with it, maybe we should keep it in our pants.

So go ahead–long for wisdom** and please, honor providence** (where ‘ere you may find it)!  But don’t forget to control anger**, exercise prudence**, and find fault with no one** while you are at it. After all, you are not a god…so restrain the tongue** when you decide to open your mouth, ‘else you might betray your inability to think like a mortal**.  Keep your religion in your pants.

*telling someone else that they are incorrect is radically different than telling them that you disagree with them, and why–the first is an argument, the second is a discussion

**yeah, these guys are all Delphi Maxims too 🙂

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Monday Maxims: Shun & Despise Evil

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#delphicmaxims, delphic maxim blogging party, Delphic Maxims, evil, maxim monday, wickedness

The Delphic Maxims mention “evil” twice, first as something to be hated, and secondly as something to be abstained from.

But what, precisely is evil?

evil (adj.)
Old English yfel (Kentish evel) “bad, vicious, ill, wicked,” from Proto-Germanic *ubilaz (cf. Old Saxon ubil, Old Frisian and Middle Dutch evel, Dutch euvel, Old High German ubil, German übel, Gothic ubils), from PIE *upelo-, from root *wap- (cf. Hittite huwapp- “evil”).

“In OE., as in all the other early Teut. langs., exc. Scandinavian, this word is the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike or disparagement” [OED]. Evil was the word the Anglo-Saxons used where we would use bad, cruel, unskillful, defective (adj.), or harm, crime, misfortune, disease (n.). The meaning “extreme moral wickedness” was in Old English, but did not become the main sense until 18c. Related: Evilly. Evil eye (Latin oculus malus) was Old English eage yfel. Evilchild is attested as an English surname from 13c.

source: Online Etymology Dictionary

According to Merriam-Webster, evil is an adjective to describe something as “morally reprehensible” or “causing harm”, and a noun for “the fact of suffering, misfortune, and wrong doing” or the something that causes it.  Extreme moral wickedness…or just the stuff we don’t like.  What is or is not evil seems awfully personal.

Back in November, I discussed Delphic Maxim #136, Gratify without harming, and touched on the idea of evil:

Evil tends to be an interesting subject in Pagan communities.  Views of what constitutes “evil” as a definition and as an action or behavior vary, but tend to emphasize the “I know it when I see it” subjectiveness of the idea of evil.  Of the many discussions (online and IRL) that I have encountered on the topic, my favorite definition comes from an essay on the Wiccan Rede from Proteus Coven–evil is a rip in the fabric of empathy.

All of this really leads me to sometimes think that either everything might be evil (either that, or nothing is)–after all, everything has the capacity to directly inflict harm and misfortune on someone, somewhere.  No one lives in a vacuum and even the most altruistic of acts is going to have a downside somewhere down the line (Newton’s Third Law–every action has an equal and opposite reaction, sometimes I think it applies to more than physics).  And if everything is evil, perhaps it all cancels out, and nothing is more evil than the next, except in the context of the beholder.

When I ran these two maxims through Google Translate, the result I got was “hate wickedness” and “abstain from wickedness”.  Wickedness certainly is implied in the dictionary definitions for “evil”, and indeed, definitions of “wickedness” include the description of “evil”.  But I like the word “wickedness” better than that of “evil”–it isn’t as loaded of a term.  When we think of evil in its usage, it often to carry an additional subtext–either as an absolute that is part of a moral dichotomy (good vs evil), or as some Supernatural Big Bad Being.  

Ultimately, I have to say that evil isn’t supernatural.  It isn’t a moral absolute, or the opposite of good.  Evil isn’t a specific action or person or event.  Evil can’t be defined.  But it does exist.  Evil happens, and it isn’t everything, or nothing.

Evil is a rip in the fabric of empathy.

Now…I guess I just need to take the time to discuss what the heck that means!!

Maxim Monday: Respect Yourself

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#delphicmaxims, delphic maxim blogging party, Delphic Maxims, respect

If you’re walking ’round
Think’n that the world
Owes you something
‘Cause you’re here
You goin’ out
The world backwards
Like you did
When you first come here

~The Staple Singers, Respect Yourself (check out their 1972 live performance)

Respect yourself.

It seems like such a modern idea, doesn’t it?  Or an obvious observation, at the very least.  It seems that way, and yet it can be pretty damn hard to actually carry out.

Just for fun, I asked Chickadee what it meant to “respect yourself”…just to see what she would say.  And she had no answer.   Really?  REALLY?  My kid had no idea what it meant to respect herself?

So I asked her what it meant to respect someone else.  And she gets that.  Translated from kindergartner: be courteous and compassionate, show tolerance and give people the benefit of the doubt, demonstrate honesty and forthrightness in your dealings with others.  And then I asked her how she could direct those ideas to herself.

Her answer was to ask mom to help fix a bubble bath and a hot chocolate when she’s had a bad day at school.

Kids are brilliant.

At the end of the day, respecting ourselves is about knowing when we’ve had a bad day (or a good one).  Respecting ourselves is about knowing when to indulge in ourselves, or when to invest in ourselves, or when to discipline ourselves.  Respecting ourselves is about taking the time to forgive ourselves when we didn’t measure up, about celebrating when we did.  Respecting ourselves is about being in tune with our needs, and asking for help when we need it.

Respecting ourselves is about recognizing our health (emotional, physical, and spiritual) as the foundation for what can go out and do in the world.

Sometimes that means we quit…a job that beats us down or a relationship that belittles us on a daily basis.  Sometimes that means we persevere.  Respecting ourselves can mean walking away or taking a stand.  It can be about our values, or our value.  It can mean overcoming a challenge–whether it be the challenge of allowing ourselves the occasional luxury (my problem) or the problem of giving up too many luxuries.  The manner in which we show respect for ourselves is varied…but the basis of it is dependent on our ability to appreciate ourselves both as individuals and as part of humanity.

 

 

 

Honor the Hearth, A Maxim for Candlemas

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candlemas, Delphic Maxims, fire, hearth, Hestia, kitchen witch, maxim monday, womens roles

hearth (noun)
1. the floor of a fireplace, usually of stone, brick, etc., often extending a short distance into a room.
2. home; fireside: the joys of family and hearth.
(from dictionary.com)

In the beginning, before mankind had hearths, we just had fires.  A community fire offered protection from the elements, from darkness, from wild animals, from things that go bump in the night.  A fire acted as a gathering place for the meal to be cooked, for generations of a community to come together to share their common bounty of food and story.  When the community fire became the family hearth, it shifted the cohesion that shared protection, sustenance, and company offered directly into the home, and made it the province of those that tended the home.  For many generations, in many cultures, the hearth tenders (and most deities of the hearth) have been female.  This begins to change, but the stereotype of the Hearth as a “Woman thing” prevails (often even among women).

A lot of the historical context for honoring Hestia, and honoring the hearth (since this maxim can be taken to mean either…though, as all of the other maxims fail to mention any deities by name, I tend to prefer the latter as the meaning the Greeks were going for) is directed towards women, as a result of this stereotyping.  I could talk about things like proper housekeeping, about nourishing food, about keeping a household shrine, about magic in the home…and all sorts of traditional and non-traditional, modern and historical ways to honor Hestia, and to honor the hearth as a physical place (and I do, among other things).  But I think, as a kitchen witch (and a kitchen is just the modern hearth), honoring the hearth ultimately has very little to do with a physical place (even though most of what we do is centered there).  The hearth is just a symbol, a tool, for the working of a certain type of magic…the type of magic that embodies honoring the hearth.

Honoring the hearth is really about honoring those you would share a fire with.

Check back on Saturday for The Bewitching Home blog party!

Monday Maxims: Practice What is Just

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Delphic Maxims, Justice, Martin Luther King, maxim monday, racism

Somewhere I read that the greatness of America is the right to protest for rights.*

At the beginning of this Maxim Monday enterprise I wrote about “being overcome by justice”, and its intersection with the 2nd principle of the Unitarian Universalist Association.  In it, I quoted Martin Luther King, Jr. a couple of times.  Somehow in a stroke of kismet or coincidence, I picked its companion maxim for Martin Luther King Day, not really thinking about the timing, until just before I sat down to write.  I had an entirely different post in mind until then…something in line with service (which I’ve talked about before) as a form of practicing justice…

The moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.*

I think that this maxim happens to be one that Martin Luther King, Jr. might have been a fan of.

I’m not sure there is much I can say on this subject though, that he didn’t say.  And on that matter, I’d prefer to let him speak for himself.

There will be hundreds of posts and articles and news clips on Martin Luther King today, as a historical figure, as an icon for justice and civil rights, and as a husband and father.  I encourage everyone to watch or read them–the Civil Rights era is an important period of our time that we could all use to be more cognizant of…but this post is not about that, not precisely.

I think we all can agree that practicing justice is a good thing to do, even if we differ on what that means in our own lives, and how we feel compelled to express it.  Men (and women) like Martin Luther King do (and have done) a far better job of orating and demonstrating how we can be more just than I will ever be capable of doing.  But what I can do–probably my most important contribution towards bending the universe towards justice, is to teach my children what it means to be overcome by justice and to practice what is just, by talking to them about justice and our failings in living justly with honesty and integrity to the best of my ability and demonstrating just actions in my dealings with them and others.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.*

Today my Chickadee asked me a very serious question that I wasn’t quite ready to answer,”Why did a white man kill Martin Luther King? Is it because he was black?”  For an almost six year old, this is a serious question that she just didn’t know the answer to.  But for me…this question was just a little bit heartbreaking.

Just last week, my baby girl though of skin color as nothing more than nature’s Crayola box.  Just last week, my baby girl would tell you that “I’m not white, I’m peach” and would correct anyone that might suggest her bus buddy with brown skin was “black”.  As far as she was concerned, our skin colors were no more significant than the colors of flowers, and they should be accurately described.  In a mostly white neighborhood, the most significant physical trait of her bus buddy was not the color of her skin, but that “Miss M has ponytails that are better than mine because they have poof.”

And now, not only did she want to know about The Man With A Dream (as she has taken to calling Martin Luther King)–a question much easier to answer than what would follow, but she wanted to know  why someone would be mean to someone for having a different color of skin.  And then she wanted to know why people would think that they were better than other people for having a different color of skin.  And then she wanted to know why people had owned other people.  And she wanted to know why we are white, when we are really peach, and why people that are brown are called black, and why any of that matters, because we are all just people.  And then she wanted to know if having white skin made people do bad things.

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.*

…And I had a hard time answering some of her questions.  I was raised in a family where skin color was treated like eye color…and I come from a place of racial privilege–I’ve experienced prejudice, but never on the basis of my skin color, and never as overt as that sort of prejudice can be.  I might intellectually understand that racism exists and where it stems from (we *do* do Civil War reenacting), but I don’t really understand the depths of hatred that it can and has descended to–I don’t get that kind of hatred, and I sure as hell don’t want my children to.  I might be guilty of saying something that is prejudiced simply because I come from a place of racial privilege, but that would be/would have been from ignorance, and not maliciousness (and I sincerely apologize if that has ever happened).

How do you explain all of that to a six year old?  Especially a six year old with a heart like butterfly wings (seriously, the kiddo gets upset at the idea of hurting someone’s feelings on accident), especially when there are six year olds around the world that LIVE this, on a daily basis. And if not now, from us, when and how will this lesson be taught?

The Hubby and I did our best to explain that people’s minds and hearts can and do change over time.  And that people that lived a long time ago had different ideas of what was right and wrong from ours, and that even then they argued over what was right and wrong like we do today.  Just because something was right (or wrong) then, doesn’t mean it has to stay that way…as our sense of morality grows into one that is more compassionate and more just, we can change what we do and say to be more equitable and to embrace equality…not just on a basis of race, but everywhere, for every quality that makes us different from one another.

We tried to tell her that sometimes people are afraid of people and things that are different from what they see or do on a daily basis and that sometimes people are afraid of change.  That sometimes when people are afraid, they think they need to fight against what they don’t understand, that the fear makes them hate, that the hate can poison their hearts, that poisoned hearts can make them do bad things.  We talked about the fact that people are just people, different and beautiful for it.  We talked about Martin Luther King, and that he believed in justice for all people that were disadvantaged, whether it be because of skin color, or economic status, or any of the other things that divide us, and we watched The Man With a Dream talk about the day when “little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.”

I think that he might have liked to see Chickadee and Miss M skipping down the sidewalk, hand in hand, on their way for a play date.  I think that maybe, for all that practicing justice often means protesting, it can also means two heads bowed together over a coloring book, drinking cocoa, and watching My Little Pony.  Practicing justice is about doing what is right.  And what is more right than two six year olds than playing, together, oblivious to the controversies that might have stirred before they were even born?

*quotes are from Martin Luther King, Jr.