Monday, September 2, 2019

Ragnarök and Odin, Death and Memory

The version of Norse mythology we see projected in popular culture tends to focus on overly macho Viking warriors longing for bloody, heroic deaths to earn their place in Valhalla and on the great cataclysmic massacre that will occur in the future battle of Ragnarök.

For evidence of the doom and gloom supposedly inherent to the myths, the character of Odin is presented as obsessed with fighting what he knows to be a lost cause. Wise giants and far-seeing prophetesses reveal the future to him, yet he continues to sow strife in the world to build his undead army for a battle he knows cannot be won.

Odin and his wolves depicted by Hans Thoma (1839-1924)

This interpretation of the emotional core of the Norse myths and legends found its ultimate form in the Third Reich’s leadership distributing copies of the Nibelungenlied to German troops, intending the grisly eradication of the Burgundians in the medieval poem as an inspiration for soldiers to continue fighting unto death, even when there was no hope of victory.

Is this dark fatalism the only way to read the trajectory of the material? Is the core of the lore built on an embrace of violence and a valorization of mass suicide?

The self dies the same

One of the most well-known verses from the Old Icelandic poem Hávamál (“Sayings of the High One”) features the narrator – generally understood to be Odin himself – reflecting on the transitory nature of life:
Cattle die, kinsmen die, the self dies the same, but the glory of reputation never dies for the one who gets himself a good one.
This can – and has been – read as a celebration of a heroic Nordic ethos celebrating glorious deeds that resound in ringing praise from other manly men, yet there is also a theological nugget that can be found here.

The nouns of the verse are presented in ascending order of importance for the individual being addressed: one’s farm animals, fellow men, self, and reputation. They are also presented in order of increasing immateriality, from the animal whose meat sustains the body to the other humans of both material and spiritual composition to the soul on its own to the incorporeal concept of reputation.

These things are also presented with a divide between them; the first three will fade away, but the last will not. Interestingly, it is the most immaterial thing – the idea that those living after a person’s death will have of them – that survives.

For the subject at hand, the important idea here is that “the self dies the same.” The soul is grouped with cattle and kin as something subject to death. This idea of a non-immortal soul seems to have confirmation elsewhere in the mythological poetry.

According to Völuspá (“Prophecy of the Seeress”), it is not only the gods and giants who will battle at Ragnarök. Enormous monsters will take part, such as the wolf Fenrir and the Midgard Serpent. But men will also join the fray, as “warriors tread the path from Hel” once the guard-dog of the domain has left his post. Snorri Sturluson calls these warriors “Hel’s people,” and they seem to be the dead set free to do battle.

If they are, there is a suggestion that the dead can also die. Like the gods who must be sustained by Idunn’s apples or decay unto death, the souls of men are not permanent and immortal. They can be struck down on the field of battle between the various powers with dominion over the worlds.

To understand why this is not a depressive outlook, compare the pagan worldview of the Hávamál verse to its famous parallel in The Wanderer, an Old English poem with a clear Christian worldview. The anonymous Wanderer poet writes:
Here wealth is temporary, here a friend is temporary, here oneself is temporary, here a kinsman is temporary; all this foundation of the earth will become worthless!
While acknowledging the transitory nature of life, the pagan poet emphasizes that right action matters because of its effect on future reputation. The Christian poet likewise remarks upon the fleeting nature of life, but concludes that nothing matters but the eternal afterlife in the Kingdom of God.

The difference between the two conclusions highlights an important pagan idea. Yes, the soul itself shall die, but life in the world goes on. Not one’s individual life, but new life. New members of the community will be born, and – if a person has lived well – they shall speak of the good deeds and right actions of the one departed.

This idea is likewise supported by the poem Völuspá. After Ragnarök, after a new world has arisen from the ruins of the old, the children and grandchildren of Odin and Thor will gather and reflect on the legacy of those now gone. The new gods of the new world will tell tales of the old gods who have gone down into memory.

And here is the crux of it all.

The long line of human memory

Many myths of Odin show him traveling the world, disguised as on old wanderer in order to gather knowledge of the future. Everything he learns confirms the coming catastrophe. Despite his determined efforts to save Baldr and his gathering together an army of undead heroes, Ragnarök shall come and the world shall fall.

The Nazis read the determination of the old gods and heroes in the face of disaster through the lens of German Romanticism, understanding the ancient worldview as one of dedication to the grand lost cause, no matter the consequences or end results. There is, however, another way to read these tales.

Yes, our loved ones will die. Yes, we will die. Following my reading above, even our souls will die. But life will go on, and the long line of human memory will continue to spin out from the past into the future.

In the poem Grímnismál (“Sayings of the Masked One”), Odin speaks of his two ravens, saying that he fears that Hugin (“thought”) will not return from his daily flight over the world, but that he fears even more that Munin (“memory”) will not come back. Greater than the very human fear of the dissipation of consciousness is the fear of the end of memory. This idea brings together the strands from Hávamál and Völuspá and makes a different reading of Odin’s wandering possible.

First, there is the assertion in Hávamál that even the soul of the individual will die, and only memory in the minds of others will live on. Second, there is the image in Völuspá of children in a distant future age celebrating memories of those who have been lost. Third, there is Odin’s fear in Grímnismál of the loss of memory being greater than the loss of consciousness.

All of this leads to the conclusion that Odin is not determinedly fighting against the doom that he knows must occur out of some sort of bloody “lost cause” ideology, but because he knows that ensuring the life of future generations is intimately tied to the continuation of the human story. Odin works toward the lengthening of the line of memory from one generation to the next in a Fortspinnung that can transcend even the end of our time-cycle at Ragnarök and continue into the next age.

The inspirational element of Odin’s quest and of the progression of the myths is not that one must fight to the death in order to achieve Viking greatness, but that one must not give up hope in the face of the permanent death that we all must face as individuals. Instead, we each must fight to make a better future world and continue the struggle against the destructive forces in our lives in order to help move the pieces on the board into a better position for the next generation and all the generations that follow.

We don’t have to accept the Romantic reading of Norse and Germanic mythology and legend as validation for an ideology of either rugged individualism or blind loyalty to a lost cause. We can read the lore as showing that an eternal afterlife of the soul is not the focus. Glorious death in battle is not the focus.

Doing everything we can to provide a better foundation for future generations is of prime importance. The continuation of the human story is what really matters. The wider world is more important than the inner one, and we would do well by turning away from our spiritual self-absorption and into the bigger narrative.

An earlier version of this article appeared at The Wild Hunt.

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Science and Religion

Last October, Pagan Forum at Illinois Institute of Technology hosted an event titled “Religion + Science.” I moderated a discussion by a sizable group of diverse, passionate, and thoughtful undergraduate and graduate students as they addressed these questions:
What place is there for mythology and religion at an institution centered on science? Do religion and science conflict, or can they strengthen and reinforce each other?

Where do scientists find moral guidance? How should morality be included in scientific projects?

Why do you attend religious events or celebrate religious holidays? How much is literal belief in the supernatural part of your religious practice?

How do religion and science overlap?

How does science help you understand religion? How does religion help you understand science?
The attendees had a lot to say.

Detail from Paul Alexander's cover art for Frank Herbert's Whipping Star (1977)

One student stated that she was not religious but saw the value of spirituality in helping people with mental health in day-to-day life and asserted that religion becomes an issue when it goes directly against scientific teaching.

Others spoke of the mental, physical, social, and spiritual benefits of religion but warned of in-group versus out-group divisions in religious organizations.

Another student addressed what he called the problem of atheist systems, arguing that a lack of a religious deity is replaced by the deification of a political dictator. He stated that it is better to have a god with strictly defined parameters than a ruler with unbridled power.

A graduate student took a strong stand for pure science and against ethical reviews of scientific research, insisting that his own personal code made his work free of moral implications and that he had no responsibility for how his work was used after leaving his desk.

The discussion ran well past the time allotted. Even after we officially ended, many students stayed to continue talking about the issues.

In November, I was invited to be a guest on Curiosity Unplugged, “the talk show where Illinois Tech faculty members leave no topic unexplored, no challenge unconsidered, and no query unanswered.” Associate Director of Editorial Services Marcia Faye wrote that she wanted to include me in an episode “on the intersection of science and religion” since I had “hosted a student discussion on a similar topic.”

The discussion panel put together for the broadcast featured faculty from several areas:
Colleen M. Humer, Studio Assistant Professor of Architecture

Andrew J. Howard, Associate Professor of Biology and Physics

Karl E. H. Seigfried, Adjunct Professor of Humanities and Pagan Chaplain

Jack Snapper, Associate Professor of Humanities

Chris White, Professor of Physics and Vice Provost for Academic Affairs
The episode was titled “In Our Search for Truth, Do Science and Religion Collide?” and described on the show’s website like this:
How did we get here? Where did we come from? Where are we going? As humans we have turned to both religion and science for answers to these infinitely daunting questions. Although religion and science have butted heads over topics such as genetics, medicine, and evolution, studies show that arguments between the two are overblown. According to a 2014 Pew Research Center report, while 59 percent of Americans believe that science and religion conflict, most Americans think that science aligns with their own beliefs, and most people who identify themselves as highly religious are less likely to see conflict. When it comes to God or science, whose side are we willing to take, and when?
I have long argued that including practitioners of minority religious traditions in public conversations leads to the discussion of issues that are regularly ignored or erased. In this case, paganism and polytheism became part of a conversation that almost always defaults to the monotheistic Abrahamic faiths as the be-all and end-all of “religion.”

By being present and speaking out, today’s Pagans and Heathens can be a force for positive change. I strongly encourage all practitioners of minority religions to engage academics and journalists. There is no better way to change the narrative than by being included in its construction.

You can listen to a recording of the broadcast – edited down from our longer discussion in the studio and first broadcast on January 3 – by clicking the ► button in the player below.

You can learn more about Pagan Forum at Illinois Institute of Technology by clicking here.

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Thor’s Hammer in Iceland: Interview with Ragnheiður Gló Gylfadóttir

A farmstead from the Viking Age was found last October by a local resident in Þjórsárdalur, a valley in the southern highlands of Iceland.

Bergur Þór Björnsson is the great-grandson of the man who discovered the region’s most recently found Viking-era farm back in 1920. With his new find, the total number of known farms stands at twenty-one.

Archaeologists from Fornleifastofnun Ísland (Institute of Archaeology in Iceland) were called to the scene and soon found several small objects. Among them was a Thor’s hammer amulet, only the second ever found in Iceland. Adolf Friðriksson, director of the Institute, told me that record searches so far suggest that this is the first Mjölnir pendant made of stone found anywhere.

Stone Thor's hammer found in Þjórsárdalur, Iceland

I spoke with Ragnheiður Gló Gylfadóttir – the archaeologist from Fornleifastofnun Ísland who investigated the find – about the site, the discovery, and the newly-unearthed objects.

KS – How did the explosion of the Hekla volcano in 1104 affect farms in the Þjórsárdalur area?

RG – This is not an easy question to answer. The valley wasn’t deserted all at the same time.

The tephra [fragments of dust and rock propelled into the air by volcanic eruption] layer from 1104 likely covered the valley, but there is evidence of habitation in the valley until the twelfth century. One of the farms, for example, fell out of use in the late sixteenth century, and two farms are still in habitation.

KS – Have any other farms in this area been excavated?

RG – This deserted valley has held a central place in Icelandic archaeology for nearly one and a half centuries. It’s often referred to as “Iceland’s Pompeii.” There are about fifteen to twenty known Viking Age sites and farms in the valley, and the first excavations there took place in the late 1890s.

In 1939, a team of Nordic archaeologists came to Iceland to investigate Viking Age and medieval house structures as the key to understanding the development of Nordic building custom. At the time, six farms were excavated in Þjórsárdalur, Stöng the most famous of them.

Since then, there has been lively – and sometimes vicious – debate on the dating of the abandonment of the valley. A number of “follow-up” excavations have been carried out, the last one in 2000-2001.

In total, about two thousand artifacts from the farms have been found, dating mostly from the ninth to twelfth century.

Whetstone found in Þjórsárdalur, Iceland

KS – Have Icelandic Forestry Service soil-reclamation and reforestation projects in the area affected archaeological discoveries and excavations?

RG – Yes, they have. Some parts of the valley are now covered in forest, and some sites are “gone” as the result.

KS – How did Bergur Þór Björnsson discover the Bergstaðir farm site?

RG – He was born and raised in a farm in Þjórsárdalur, one of the two that is in habitation in the valley. He felt there was “a gap” in the distribution of the Viking age farms and decided to try to find some evidence of habitation there.

KS – What is the protocol for investigation and collection when you receive information about a new find like that from Bergur?

RG – The Cultural Heritage Agency of Iceland should be informed about any archaeological sites, finds, or artifacts as soon as possible. If some artifacts are found they should be turned over to the National Museum of Iceland.

The Institute of Archaeology, where I work, has no role when people find new things or archaeological sites in Iceland. The Institute is privately owned, and we do both research and commercial work.

We were working in Þjórsárdalur for the local municipality when we talked to Bergur, and he informed us about the site. The project involved measuring up and surveying all known archaeological sites in the municipality, also outside Þjórsárdalur.

Of course, we followed the laws and reported the farm and the finds to the Cultural Heritage Agency. The finds go to the National Museum.

All the finds were measured in situ with a total station [electronic device which simultaneously measures horizontal and vertical position of an object], and the midden [refuse pile] as well. We hope to do more research in the area later. No excavation has been done there yet.

Buckle found in Þjórsárdalur, Iceland

KS – What living and work structures were visible at the site?

RG – The site is eroded and no structures are visible on the surface. We found a midden. A big part is likely eroded away. There is also evidence of a smithy. Slag is lying on the surface there.

KS – Iceland Magazine reports that “[w]hen archeologists arrived at the scene they could immediately see that Bergur was right: The foundation of a Viking Age longhouse were clearly visible in the ground, as well as various other remains” (sic). Can you clarify what you saw at the site?

RG – There were no structures, only a few stones and the midden, and slag where the smithy probably was.

KS – Can you explain what objects have been found so far?

RG – The objects were found in the midden and the smithy, lying on the surface. We found a Thor’s hammer amulet, whetstones, part of a soapstone pot, and iron buckles. I can’t explain why these items were there at this time.

KS – In the photograph I’ve seen, the Thor’s hammer amulet appears to have runes carved into it. Do you think that’s what they are?

RG – These are not runes, or so we believe at this time. The amulet is made of sandstone and therefore scratches easily. It’s been lying in the ground for about 1100 years, among sharp pumice stones from eruptions in Hekla.

KS – Does the Thor’s hammer have a hole in the shaft to be strung as an amulet?

RG – No, the hole or the shaft is broken and missing from the amulet.

Awl found in Þjórsárdalur, Iceland

KS – If the farm was abandoned in 1104 and the Thor’s hammer was found in the surface soil, do you suppose at this stage of research that this object was in use a century after the official Christian conversion of Iceland?

RG – We don´t know when the farm was deserted. Tephra from different eruptions is on the surface, and no excavations have been done. The farm, like big parts of Þjórsárdalur, is eroded and the soil moves around easily.

KS – What happens to the objects now?

RG – They will go to the National Museum of Iceland, Þjóðminjasafn Íslands.

KS – What are the institute’s plans for further excavation?

RG – We hope to excavate the site and do further research there. The site is very interesting, and no other midden is known in Þjórsárdalur.

Thanks to Ragnheiður Gló Gylfadóttir for being so generous with her time and to Adolf Friðriksson, Director of Fornleifastofnun Íslands, for his kind help and permission to use the official photographs of the objects.

An earlier version of this interview appeared at The Wild Hunt.

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

On Inclusive Heathenry

Over the past year and a half, and especially since the Frith Forge conference in Germany, I’ve noticed increasing use and discussion of the term “inclusive Heathenry.”

It often seems more of a rebranding than a revolutionary concept. Practitioners of Ásatrú and Heathenry have long taken sides over issues of inclusion, with some staking out clear positions on either end of the spectrum and many situating themselves in a complicated middle ground.

The battles that have raged for so long have been between standpoints that were often defined by the other side. The universalist position supposedly said that anyone could be Heathen – no questions asked. The folkish position supposedly said that only straight white people could be Heathen – with many questions asked.

Whether these two poles were really so clearly defined for all who identified with or were identified with them in past decades can be debated. What seems to be happening now is a real hardening of positions that parallels the current hardening of sociopolitical positions more generally.

On one hand, members of multiple marginalized groups have become much more vocal in their demands for visibility, self-determination, and voice in the larger national and international discussion. Members of the LGBTQ+ community, of religious minorities, and of refugee populations have used social media to force traditional media to cover their stories. Populations most affected by police brutality have used the omnipresence of mobile phones to document their abuse and make it public. Those who have traditionally been the subject of political debates have taken political action to force politicians to address their own concerns, and they have themselves run for political office across the United States. From Colin Kaepernick to Laverne Cox to Rana Abdelhamid, younger people are resolutely fighting for positive change.

On the other hand, followers of white nationalist and other extreme right ideologies have also become much more vocal in their demands for power, enforcement of “traditional” social structures, and silencing of voices in the wider discussion through threats of violence. Overtly white supremacist and neo-Nazi individuals and organizations have staged protest marches throughout the western world and used social media to terrorize those who speak out against hate and to manipulate major media into magnifying their voices. In California, Illinois, North Carolina, Virginia, and Wisconsin, self-proclaimed anti-Semites and white supremacists campaigned for public office last year and, in some cases, won Republican primaries.

Words, not deeds

As often happens, trends in religion reflect trends in the larger society. It has become commonplace for Heathen organizations large and small to include formal inclusive statements on their social media pages and websites. Thor’s Oak Kindred, the group I lead in Chicago, uses typical verbiage:
Our members are kindred by choice and have chosen to embrace each other as family. We are proud of our diversity, and we stand against all discrimination on the basis of race, sex, orientation, identity, origin, ancestry, age, or ability.
Truth be told, such public statements are often disclaimers designed to distance the organization from white nationalist and overtly racist elements in the wider Heathen world. Much of the increased discussion of inclusiveness among Heathens is in reaction to the fact that the far right end of the Heathen spectrum has been following the far right end of the political spectrum in its move to increased stridency and dropping of dog whistles in favor of openly racist rhetoric.

Thor standing against the World Serpent by Carl Emil Doepler, Sr. (1876)

Stephen McNallen, founder and longtime leader of the Asatru Folk Assembly, is a case in point. After decades of distancing himself from white supremacists in interviews and using euphemistic language in his essays, he has openly aligned himself with white supremacist figures such as Richard Spencer and dropped the use of terms such as “European-descended peoples” and “people descended from the European tribes” in favor of declaring “white people” to be an embattled minority in threat of imminent extinction. The turn towards undeniably white nationalist rhetoric by McNallen and the younger leaders of his organization finally led the Southern Poverty Law Center to add the Asatru Folk Assembly to its list of hate groups in 2017.

The obvious overlap between right-wing Heathenry and far-right hate groups and its coverage by mainstream media has understandably driven declarations of inclusiveness by centrist and liberal Heathens. Especially for those of us who use our real names online when posting about Heathenry – as opposed to having accounts anonymized with Viking pseudonyms – and those of us who are openly Ásatrú in our professional lives, there are real consequences for being put in the same box as racist Heathens by a general populace that has no interest in parsing internal arguments in what they usually see as a fringe religion.

A university dean once told me to my face that my religion “has no validity.” The head of a national interfaith organization barred me from working with his organization after he found anti-Semitic rhetoric on a folkish Heathen website. Two professors of medieval studies told me that my critique of racism within their field was invalid because anyone studying Norse mythology must be doing so to promote white nationalism. The list goes on.

Now, I’m doing fine, but it’s undeniable that even those who should know better are happy to lump all Heathens in with the worst elements who associate themselves with Heathenry. It’s completely understandable that Heathens of positive intent would feel the need to make public declarations against bigotry.

Yet the question must be asked: what do these announcements, pronouncements, and denouncements accomplish? What is actually changed in the world by all of these declarations, exclamations, and proclamations?

Yes, we should make these public statements. We need to be sure that those declaring that straight whiteness is a prerequisite for participating in these religions aren’t allowed to dominate the discourse about them. This is good and necessary work, but will it change the minds of non-Heathens who tar us all with the same brush? Will writing blog posts about how awful racist Heathenry is really make a meaningful difference in offline life?

We can parse names, oaths, phrasing, slogans, manifestos, and hashtags until our fingers cramp from furious typing, yet both racist Heathens and non-Heathens who consider us all crypto-racists will still attack us on principle.

The determined insistence that “we are not Nazis” can also, at times, paste over the racism and bigotry within ourselves and our communities – prejudice that doesn’t openly fly the swastika, but permeates so much of society with a more shadowy and subtle presence. When reduced to “we are not that,” the resolute insistence that we are already inclusive can be used to shut down discussion of diversity that addresses the white elephant in rooms full of white people. The whiteness of inclusive Heathenry can sometimes be blinding.

Deeds, not words

I believe that we are our deeds, and I believe that our actions matter more than our intentions.

There is great value in crafting well-written and thoughtful statements to share with the wider public in print and online, but the words should be backed up with deliberate action. If we want to really send a strong message about inclusiveness in Heathenry and about the inclusive nature of Heathenry, we must take real steps to truly realize and reify inclusivity itself.

Rather than defining inclusive Heathenry in negative terms as “not racist and not Nazi,” let’s define it in positive terms to mean “celebrating the inclusion of diverse peoples in our communities both religious and secular.” Let’s show the world that we not only oppose exclusion in principle, but that we actively promote inclusion through our actions.

In 1913, Mohandas K. Gandhi wrote:
We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.
We should keep telling the world that we are inclusive, but we should also embrace inclusivity and live lives based upon it. Only by doing so and by taking the actions that logically follow can we truly change ourselves and the societies in which we live.

Gandhi's march to challenge discriminatory laws in Volksrust, South Africa (1913)

I should clarify what I mean by taking action. I specifically mean setting aside the urge to write sternly worded online posts, to add virtual badges to profile pictures, to wear safety pins as markers of liberality, and to continue to situate ourselves in the world of symbolic gestures. I mean to take actual action, to do definite deeds, and to make our presence felt in the wider world in a way that promotes real inclusiveness.

Do you believe that hospitality for the guest is a value at the core of Heathenry? If so, let’s make that value manifest outside of our insular and tribal Heathen communities and truly live the ancient ideal in the modern world. Step up and support refugees by backing politicians who forward beneficial programs for them and by standing against government officials who harass, imprison, and abuse them. Provide financial support for refugee networks and centers that help those in need. Volunteer to teach, to provide child care, or to use whatever skill set is at your disposal. Our everyday world is bigger and more diverse than the Viking hall of old. Our sense of hospitality needs to be likewise larger and more inclusive.

Do you believe that wyrd weaves its way through generations? If so, let’s do the work to address the wrongs of the past, stand against the wrongs of the present, and take action for the benefit of the future. Ask the nearest Jewish community center for events and materials about the Holocaust, then invite other Heathens to attend and to study the materials. Volunteer to work for political candidates running against the self-avowed anti-Semites now campaigning for political office. Show up to remove Nazi graffiti and to repair damage done to Jewish cemeteries and synagogues by far-right extremists. The tired excuse that “I should not be held responsible for things that happened before I was born” is incompatible with belief in the workings of wyrd across generations.

Do you believe that Ásatrú and Heathenry are world-affirming religions? If so, let’s acknowledge that bigotry, injustice, and suffering are real forces of darkness in this world that can’t be prayed away. Let’s volunteer our help in whatever capacity we are able – legal work, office work, janitorial work, donations of funds earned through our own work – for the groups that are on the front lines fighting for equality, justice, and peace: the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Southern Poverty Law Center, the American Indian College Fund, and all the other organizations that seek to raise peoples who have been pushed down by institutionalized racism throughout the centuries, who continue to be held down by the very institutions that so many of us continue to benefit from in some fashion. To truly affirm the world means to take action that affirms positive change in this world.

Do you believe that Ásatrú and Heathenry should be inclusive? If so, let’s put in the hard work to truly make them so. If your Heathen community, organization, or event is made up entirely of white people, contact the Heathen groups that include practitioners who come from Jewish, African, Hispanic, Latin American, and all other backgrounds, and ask them for advice on building a more inclusive religious community of your own. If you truly believe that the Old Gods do indeed call to good people of all backgrounds all around the world, ask yourself what is intrinsic to your own community that only attracts white people. I’m not talking about missionary work, despite the fact that many Heathen individuals and organizations actually do missionary work while calling it something else, like “public pub moots,” “inviting interested friends to blót,” or “in-reach Heathen prison services.” I’m talking about real inclusion, about putting your belief that the gods can be heard by all open persons into practice, about actually including individuals from diverse backgrounds in your community. If you ask, “Why would a black person, or a Latinx person, or a Jewish person be interested in Heathenry?” – you just might be folkish, after all.

So there it is. I believe that inclusive Heathenry should be something centered on actively promoting and embracing inclusion. I believe that actions matter and that we live in an era when right action is needful. Do I myself need to do better at all the things discussed above? As a former vice presidential candidate famously declared, you betcha! We all do. Let’s lift each other up and do good in this world. Let’s stand for something positive, not just against something negative. Let’s work towards making inclusive Heathenry a truly diverse force that can change the world for the better.

An earlier version of this article appeared at The Wild Hunt.

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Heathen South: Interview with Ryan Denison

This July, Atlanta will once again host Mystic South: Theory, Practice, and Play. According to the convention’s Facebook page, the Pagan event “highlights the Southern flair and mystic spirit of our own part of the country.”

Headliners this year include Lilith Dorsey, Jason Mankey, Sangoma Oludoye, and Tuatha Dea. The conference schedule features rituals, workshops, papers, panels, presentations, and a live podcast. Information on Mystic South 2019 can be found at the convention’s official website.

Several events last year centered on Norse material and Heathen religions. To get a sense of the conference from a Heathen perspective, I spoke with Ryan Denison of the Mystic South organizing committee.

Ryan Denison of Mystic South

Ryan is co-founder, secretary, and a member of the clergy for Berkano Hearth Union. The relatively new organization describes itself as
a community of Heathens who are working together to create an inclusive group to learn, grow, and deepen our shared spirituality. We seek this whether it be toward Norse, Anglo-Saxon, Slavic, Sami, Finnish, or other flavors of Heathenry. The organization desires to provide a safe environment where everyone has a voice and members can turn to this community and have other members there for help or someone to listen to them.
Ryan is also co-founder and administrator of Heathen Men United, a Facebook group dedicated to fostering “affirmative productive change in the Heathen community by focusing on positive, supportive examples of masculinity.”

KS – Were you the only Heathen on the Mystic South organizing committee?

RD – Actually, no. Gypsey Teague is also an Icelandic Heathen. So two out of the seven organizers are Heathen.

KS – How do Heathens function (or not) within the wider Pagan communities of the southern United States?

RD – From my experience, I feel we function and interact well with the communities in the South. Berkano Hearth Union hasn’t been around long enough to interact with other communities yet, but we would definitely be willing to do so.

KS – What makes Heathenry qualitatively different in the South than it is in other regions of the U.S.?

RD – A lot of characteristics of Heathenry – such as hospitality and honor – are also stereotypical Southern characteristics and are emphasized in Southern Heathenry.

Being from Appalachia, I grew up in the hills and playing in creeks, so the animism of Heathenry also came easily to me, although I don’t see that as being specifically Southern.

There are of course the negative stereotypes of the South – namely, racism – which I have run into in Southern Heathenry, as well, over social media. Luckily, the groups I have become involved with have been very quick to dispel any person that showed racist tendencies.

KS – I’d love to hear about the Heathen presentations at the last Mystic South. What did Birna Isleifsdottir discuss in her presentation on Norse cosmology?

RD – This was actually an amazing presentation discussing the cosmology as seen in the Eddas, with the use of Legos! Essentially telling the story of creation using the Legos.

KS – How did Gypsey Teague’s discussion of early Norse navigational tools go?

RD – Gypsey’s presentation was pretty amazing, discussing the historical use of Norse navigation tools, including the famed sunstone. I don’t want to go into too much detail, as I am hoping to get the papers published in an annual journal edition.

KS – I’m especially curious about Morgan Daimler’s talk on Wodan and the Wild Hunt.

RD – Morgan is an amazing presenter who is very academically oriented, which I love.

She discussed the many varied stories of the Wild Hunt over Europe and how each of those stories had their regional details – i.e., the different leaders of the hunt from various regions. She discussed the participants of the hunt also being varied a bit by region, but all are hunting for new members to join the group.

She also spoke to the fact that the hunt was a terrifying experience, and yet in some regions there are tales that if you treated the hunt with respect and hospitality, you could be rewarded greatly.

KS – What were the central issues in J. Beofeld’s talk on the multi-part soul in Anglo-Saxon paganism?

RD – Joseph talked about the fact that the idea of the singular soul is an oddity in religion and discussed the idea that each person has a multi-part soul that can also be split up on death.

KS – Were there any other Heathen presentations?

RD – There was a workshop on land wights, but it wasn’t specifically Heathen in nature.

KS – You moderated a panel called “Reconstructing a Faith.” Can you explain the subject and talk about how it went?

RD – The idea of the panel was to discuss the basics of reconstructionism within Paganism and how we bring those researched findings into the present day. The panel was well received.

We began the discussion by defining reconstructionism. The participants defined the term in their own words, but there was general consensus that the idea is to base worldview and actions on those that we can find through holistic research.

We then discussed good versus bad research. We had a long discussion on source criticism, bias, historiography, interpretatio romana, and the dangers of not being thorough in your research and/or basing too much on a few sources – for example, using a text that only uses philology, and not taking into account other findings of archaeology.

We finished the panel by discussing the fact that we don’t want to reconstruct everything from the past. There are many things that need to be left in the past and do not fit in to our modern world.

Altar for opening ceremony at Mystic South (Photo by Heather Greene)

KS – What was the thought process in designing and performing your welcome ritual?

RD – The idea was to ask the appropriate gods to help foster learning, magic, and frithful communication amongst the diverse paths represented, as well as provide a level of protection for our conference. With that in mind, we asked for the assistance of Odin (esoteric knowledge), Freya (magic), Thor (protection), and Tyr (frith, grith, and god of the Thing).

We had to take into account that there would be many paths represented that may not wish to drink alcohol or may not want to drink from the same horn. Therefore, we decided to use locally obtained spring water in lieu of mead. We also had a separate bowl from which water could be poured into paper cups. We also could not use fire – big hang up for a Heathen blót! To that end we used fake fire made from paper and pipe cleaners on a torch that had previously been burned.

As we passed the horn, we had each participant say a sentence or two about what they wanted to take away from the conference. We received many compliments that this set a fantastic tone for the nature of the conference as being one of the reception and dissemination of sacred knowledge.

KS – What’s the Polytheist and Pagan Educational Symposium (PAPER) that you started at Mystic South?

RD – PAPER was born out of the fact that I can’t afford to travel. Ha!

Seriously, I wanted to attend religious academic conferences and could never find the time nor money to attend. So I thought, why not start one in Atlanta and bring these great minds here? From that came PAPER and attaching onto Mystic South.

The idea has evolved into bringing academia to the masses – allowing thorough and original research to be presented by these fantastic minds to groups of Pagans and polytheists that have never experienced this type of setting.

The past two years have been very well received, and I hope the idea continues to grow by publishing the PAPER presentations in an annual journal.

KS – Looking back, how do you think the Heathen portions of the conference went?

RD – I believe that Heathenry was represented with honor and honesty. We will know more when we have the survey data available, but I feel the Heathen portions went incredibly well.

KS – What Heathen events, rituals, and presentations do you have planned for this year’s conference?

RD – “Connecting to the Land” by John Beckett. Although he's not Heathen, it definitely applies to Heathen practice. “Creating Modern Art from Ancient Pagan Poetry” by Sam Flegal, “Pagan Interplay: Honoring our Ancestors” by Berkano Hearth Union member Jennifer Dodson. “Reconstructionism for Dummies: An Intro and How-to Guide to the Methodology of Pagan Reconstructionism” by BHU members Ryan Denison and Joseph Beofeld.

We really don't have any Heathen specific PAPERS this year. The rituals, too, are all more Wiccan.

Berkano Hearth Union logo

KS – I’d like to talk a bit about Berkano Hearth Union. What led to the creation of the organization?

RD – The creation of Berkano Hearth Union was prompted by several Heathens in the local groups coming together to form a union of various hearths that would focus on inclusivity, research, and community.

KS – What are your goals for the group?

RD – The goal is to foster community and provide knowledge to our members. We are now incorporated as a non-profit and will seek 501(c)(3) status, which we hope to use to better our community through fundraising for groups such as veterans and volunteering in our local community. We had our first full election at Yule, and all went well, with new board and officers in place.

KS – How do you see local, regional, national, and international Heathen groups interacting? Should they interact?

RD – Yes, I think they should. From my perspective, I feel any interaction between these groups would be a huge positive with the potential to grow and learn.

KS – You spoke to The Wild Hunt last April about the Heathen Men United group. Has anything developed since then, and do you have plans for action outside social media?

RD – Heathen Men United is continuing to grow online with some very tough but positive conversations happening. Because we have members all over the world, we are encouraging those who live close to come together once a month for food, drink, and fellowship.

Here in Atlanta, we have done so for several months, with really positive responses. We have had as many as fifteen men come together for dinner, discussion, and support of each other.

KS – Thanks for agreeing to discuss all of this, and good luck with your work!

RD – Thank you for all your work with your research, blog, and writing! I truly feel that we need to be more open to show the world the great and positive impact of our faith.

An earlier version of this interview appeared at The Wild Hunt.

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Ásatrú and Heathenry, Belief and Beards, Racists and Reporters

A little while ago, Boing Boing writer Seamus Bellamy contacted me for an article he was writing for the “award-winning zine, blog and directory of mostly wonderful things.” He asked me a series of questions about the modern religions of Ásatrú and Heathenry as he worked on a follow-up to an earlier article of his on Heathens in the American military.

As I’ve done in the past after being interviewed by journalists, I’m publishing the questions asked and my full answers here. Mr. Bellamy’s questions are in large bold type, with my answers following each one.

I would like to thank Mr. Bellamy for his thought-provoking questions and for providing this opportunity. I hope that my answers are interesting to some of you.

You can read the article on the Boing Boing website by clicking here.

How would you define Heathenism to someone unfamiliar with the term?

The set of definitions I wrote for the Religion Newswriters Association’s Religion Stylebook are at

Ásatrú is a modern religion that revives, reconstructs, and reimagines pre-Christian Germanic polytheistic religion with emphasis on medieval Icelandic texts. The term Ásatrú itself is modern Icelandic for “Æsir faith” and means belief in or loyalty to the major tribe of Norse gods and goddesses. Practitioners usually refer to themselves as Heathens.

More generally, the term Heathenry refers to the wider world of contemporary Germanic polytheism, which includes not only modern traditions based on older Icelandic and Norse beliefs and practices, but also on those of the Anglo-Saxons, Franks, and other ancient groups that spoke Germanic languages.

Depending where in the world you are, today’s practitioners may use the terms Ásatrú and Heathenry interchangeably, or they may insist that the first one refers specifically to beliefs and practices centered on Icelandic sources.

When we self-identify as Heathens, it doesn’t mean we’re calling ourselves “heathens” in the popular or derogatory sense. There doesn’t seem to have been a native word for the various systems of polytheistic religious beliefs and practices in any Germanic language before the clash with Christianity. After the new religion came to the north, the term Heathen (Old Norse heiðinn, Old English haéðen, Old High German heidan) was used for those who believed in what was also called the Old Way, and it’s used in this sense by modern practitioners.

Most Heathens around the world are deeply familiar with a wide range of source texts on various aspects of historical belief and practice. In order to understand the origins and development of our tradition, we study Roman reports, Old Norse and Anglo-Saxon poetry, Icelandic sagas, medieval legal codes, early German literature, nineteenth century folklore collections, and many other types of written sources – along with academic works on archaeology, history, and so on.

Rock carving from Bohuslän, Sweden (c1800 BCE)

Although it’s a modern religion, Ásatrú has a four-thousand-year history. Its gods, symbols, and rituals have roots in Northern Europe that date to approximately 2000 BCE. From shadowy beginnings in the Bronze Age through a late flowering in the Viking Age, local variants developed throughout continental Europe, the Nordic countries, and the British Isles. Large-scale public practice ended with Christian conversion, but there is documentation of private practice continuing for several centuries. Some beliefs and rituals survived into the twentieth century as elements of folk religion throughout the Northern European diaspora, including North America.

Ásatrú is what sociologists call a new religious movement (NRM). In Iceland, the old faith of Odin, Thor, Freya, and the other Norse gods and goddesses was officially abandoned for Christianity at the national assembly in the year 1000 CE. Although private practice continued for some time afterward – and folk practices continued much longer still – it wasn’t until after a group of twelve men and women adopted the term Ásatrú and formed the Ásatrúarfélagið (“Ásatrú Fellowship”) as a new religious organization in 1972 that the old gods were once more openly worshiped in the country.

The Ásatrúarfélagið was officially recognized by the Icelandic government in 1973, and its members performed the first public blót (Heathen ritual) held in Iceland since the rite was outlawed almost a thousand years earlier. The religion soon spread out internationally, and the number of adherents has greatly grown over the past forty-five years. Ásatrú is now the largest non-Christian religion in Iceland, and the construction of a major hof (Heathen temple) is nearing completion.

According to the 2013 Worldwide Heathen Census, some form of the religion can be found in ninety-eight countries, with the United States having by far the largest number of practitioners. That’s an amazing spread of what remains a largely unrecognized and misunderstood religion in less than half of a century.

What beliefs, if you are comfortable speaking about them, do you personally hold?

Worldview might be a better term than belief. In both modern Ásatrú and the ancient Germanic traditions that inform it, the focus is less on subscribing to a dogmatic set of beliefs than to experiencing and living life in a way that engages with the numinous as an intrinsic part of the world, not as an external force that stands outside time and space.

I sometimes think of Ásatrú as a poetic gloss on life that is informed by the poems, myths, sagas, legends, and histories that we turn to for information and inspiration. We don’t have sacred texts that parallel those of the Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. We don’t have commandments handed down from the heavens and preserved in infallible texts. Instead, our lore provides a guide to forming ways of seeing and acting.

For just one example, a quiet walk in a forest can be a deeply meaningful experience enriched by both conscious and subconscious internal connections of the present moment to past engagement with lore of elves, myths of Odin, legends of Siegfried, and history of the early Germanic tribes. The nonverbal connection of elements can be more meaningful as a religious experience than any verbal discourse about beliefs.

This way of seeing the world leads to a way of living in the world. The past is an active a force that affects the present as the present continually becomes the past. Heathens often say that “we are our deeds,” meaning that the actions we take in the now become part of the past that determines what can happen in the future. One way of conceiving of this process is as weaving a web of wyrd, of being part of a vast network of deeds and consequences. This naturally leads to the honoring – not the worship, as it’s often misunderstood – of those who came before us and whose deeds made our own lives possible.

The Norns weaving wyrd by Charles E. Brock (1930)

In this worldview, death is the final action of an individual’s life story, but it isn’t at all the end of that life's effect on the future present. In the poem Hávamál (“Sayings of the High One”), the god Odin famously says,

Cattle die, kinsmen die,
The self dies the same,
But the glory of reputation never dies
For the one who gets himself a good one.
The focus here isn’t on a mystical afterlife, despite the pop culture emphasis on the warrior’s paradise of Valhalla. There’s an acceptance of the finality of death, but it isn’t part of some cartoonish Germanic doom and gloom. The realization of the reality of death for the individual doesn’t lead to existential paralysis. Instead, it leads to a wholehearted embrace of living life to the fullest, so that one's deeds can continue to live positively in the minds of future generations and affect the life of the living beyond the death of the individual.

The emphasis on the importance of deeds leads to a refocusing on life choices. What will you do to make a positive impact in your own lifetime? How will you work to make life better for future generations? Will you allow harm to come to your community through inaction? How will you preserve the lore of the past so that it continues to live on and have real effect in the present? Of course, other religions also ask these questions. Maybe the difference is that they are at the core of the Ásatrú tradition and not secondary to questions of salvation of the soul.

I think the Norse gods are absolutely real, but I don’t think that they are walking, talking characters as portrayed in Norse mythology. This distinction seems to hang up a lot of people. Given the prominence of evangelical and fundamentalist voices in American public discourse on religion, we tend to equate literal belief in ancient religious texts with religiosity. If you don’t believe literally that your deity is exactly as described in the texts, you must be an atheist. I disagree.

There’s a very wide range of relationships with the divine in Ásatrú and Heathenry. Depending whom you ask, the deities are conceived of as natural forces, psychological drives, poetic constructs, cultural figures, immanent material beings, or something else entirely.

I think that the gods and goddesses are all around us. I feel the might of Thor in midwestern summer thunderstorms. I feel the inspiration of Odin in moments of musical improvisation. I feel the presence of the elves in quiet places of the forest. The Old Norse texts sometimes refer to the gods as powers. That conception makes complete sense to me.

I think the Norse myths portray the gods in understandable ways, as symbols that interact with each other in narrative forms. Reading a story about Thor’s adventure can be a spiritual experience that is both related to and very different from experiencing his power in the thunderstorm. Taking myths literally as history does violence to the depth of their symbolic, religious, and cultural meaning. That violence can spill out into our interactions with others, because a fundamentalist approach to the word all too easily leads to a fundamentalist approach to the world.

How did you come to find your beliefs?

Find is a good word to use. There was no conversion process, as there often is in the Abrahamic faith traditions. Instead, there was a realization and recognition that this modern religion with ancient roots was the right thing for me. As with many Heathens, it was less a sense of coming into a new belief system than a having a sensation that this is what I already was.

When I was a kid, my parents insisted that I learn Greek, Jewish, and Christian mythology. They told me, “You can believe whatever you want when you grow up, but you need to know these traditions, or you'll never be able to understand art, literature, and music.” I was only familiar with Norse mythology in a general way, mostly through Marvel Comics and Dungeons & Dragons. The specific moment when things changed was when I stumbled across Children of Odin, the Irish poet Padraic Colum’s 1920 retelling of the major Norse myths.

Thor flies over a farmer by Max Koch (1900)

Reading the book, I immediately saw my Opa in Thor. My German grandfather was born in the old country as a peasant farmer – traditionally, the major constituency of the thunder god – and worked as a bricklayer in Milwaukee after World War II. He loved drinking, dancing, children, and good solid food. The myths specifically show Thor sharing these loves, except for the maybe the dancing. The god of the myths is arguably the idealized self-image of the free farmer, the ancient social class to which my Opa himself belonged. Like Thor, my Opa was quick to anger, yet equally quick to joy.

Odin reminded me of my father. As a young child, my dad not only survived anti-German extermination camps run by Marshal Tito’s Yugoslavian Communist Partisans, but he single-handedly rescued his extended family and led them to freedom in Austria’s British Zone, repeatedly crossing a vast distance of hostile territory in Eastern Europe on foot. As a philosophy professor at Loyola University Chicago, he spent his adult life questioning and seeking answers for the most profound of life's questions. Odin appears when his descendants are in seemingly hopeless situations, as my father did in his youth for the members of his family. In his Wanderer aspect, Odin roams the world, questioning all and seeking wisdom, which is also the philosopher’s task.

Neither Odin nor my father necessarily found joy in wisdom. Odin learns that all must someday die, even the gods and the world itself. More than half a century after he survived torture at the hands of brutal extermination camp guards, my father watched as the president of his adopted United States worked to enable the brutal torture of “enemy combatants” even as he was himself dying of cancer. For both Odin and my father, awareness of darkness led not to paralysis, but to determination to fight the good fight.

The more I learned about Norse mythology and religion, the more I felt connected to Thor and Odin. Thor goes alone against the giants as he fights the forces threatening the gods and humans under his protection. He cares very little for his own safety as he rushes headlong into battle with overwhelming opponents. He’s a great inspiration as we fight today’s battles against bigotry, homophobia, misogyny, racism, and injustice of all kinds. Thor can inspire us to bravely face the dangers that arise when challenging discrimination.

Odin inspires in a very different way. His endless questioning and searching for wisdom is what I find most inspiring. I’m not seeking mystical answers in the words of the god. It’s the questioning itself that I believe is important. I feel a connection to the poets of a thousand years and more ago who asked the same questions that bother me in the darkest hours of the night. I feel a similar connection to the god who still wanders the world and ponders the same questions under the same stars that shine down on me.

Do you have any recommended starting points for folks that might be interested in learning more about Heathenism?

If someone wants to learn about any living religion, the best thing to do is to get to know practitioners of that tradition. Thor’s Oak Kindred, the Ásatrú group in Chicago that I lead as goði (priest), has members from Chicago and the surrounding region. Anyone interested in learning about the tradition can contact us and ask for pointers about clergy or groups in their area that are holding public events or are interested in discussion.

If that seems like too much, reading is good. There are many approaches to learning about a religion, but I would suggest reading about the mythology, the historical tradition, and the modern religions.

For mythology, I recommend starting with the book that first got me into all of this – Padraic Colum’s Children of Odin (1920). It tells all the major myths in a coherent way, has fantastic illustrations by the Hungarian artist Willy Pogany, and is suitable for all ages.

Willy Pogany's Odin from Padraic Colum's Children of Odin (1920)

If you’re ready for something deeper, read the Edda by Snorri Sturluson (c. 1220). Much of what we know about the myths comes from Snorri, and he writes in a straightforward prose style. Be forewarned: the Christian Snorri frames the myths in a hodgepodge of medieval Latin learning and sometimes gives his own interpretations that contradict what we now know about religious beliefs and practices of the earlier pagan era.

For the most moving of the mythological texts, read the Poetic Edda. It brings together the great mythological and heroic poems of Iceland, mainly from one important manuscript of c. 1270. The poems tell of gods and goddesses, dwarves and dragons, heroes and Valkyries. These brilliant works served as sources for Snorri’s more straightforward text, and they can be very difficult to understand without reading a lot of footnotes.

All three books of the mythology books I recommend are free to download from The Norse Mythology Online Library.

There are two wonderful and accessible books for learning about learn about historical Germanic polytheism. H.R. Ellis Davidson’s Gods and Myths of Northern Europe (1964) is my favorite introduction to Norse mythology, religion, and culture. The book introduces us to each of the major deities in detail and discusses not only literature but archaeology, theology, history, place-name analysis, visual arts, and more in a virtuosic work that my high school, college, and adult students love to read.

Rudolf Simek’s A Dictionary of Northern Mythology (1992) is a wonderful work that’s really more of an encyclopedia than a dictionary. As the preface explains, “the mythology and religion of all Germanic tribes – Scandinavians as well as Goths or Angles and Saxons – have been dealt with [in this book] insofar as they are Germanic in origin; hence, of the English mythology of heathen times, the religion imported by the Germanic tribes is included.” Modern Heathens tend to have an expansive sense of the historical background of the modern religions. We study sources from Iceland, England, Denmark, Germany, and elsewhere. Simek’s work is beloved by many of us both for its inclusion of a wide range of material and for its insightful drawing of connections between diverse sources.

To learn about modern Ásatrú and Heathenry, I think it’s important to read works by practitioners rather than by the academics who study them. Patricia M. Lafayllve’s A Practical Heathen’s Guide to Asatru (2013) and Diana Paxson’s Essential Asatru: Walking the Path of Norse Paganism (2006) are both introductory books that give a brief overview of Heathen history and mythology, introduce deities and land-spirits, explain theological constructs, and describe rituals and celebrations performed today.

For a more in-depth work, the two-volume Our Troth is a massive collaborative work divided into History and Lore (2006) and Living the Troth (2007). This is the standard text I recommend to scholars who want a detailed work on beliefs and practices written from a variety of perspectives within these religions. The fact that some of the authors featured and perspectives forwarded are deeply problematic itself provides a sense of the complicated issues and deep conflicts within modern Heathenry.

There was a recent story in the Army Times about a soldier who has been allowed to maintain a beard as doing so is a tenet of his heathen faith. However, the Open Halls Project stated that there is no requirement in Heathenism to sport facial hair. In your experience as a scholar and practitioner, is this the case?

There has been a long struggle for recognition of the rights of Ásatrú and Heathen members of the U.S. Armed Forces, and there has been some notable progress in the last few years.

In 2013, the Department of Veterans Affairs responded to a petition by American Heathens and approved Mjölnir (Thor’s hammer) as an available emblem of belief for government grave markers. The U.S. Air Force added Ásatrú and Heathenry as options on its religious preference list in 2014 , and – after an email campaign and the submission of the Heathen Resource Guide for Chaplains to the Department of Defense in 2016 – the religions were finally recognized across all branches of the U.S. Military Services in 2017.

However, there are still no Ásatrú or Heathen chaplains, and there are reports from practitioners that recognition hasn’t been fully implemented at ground level.

These are serious issues of religious rights that have wide support across many subsets of the wider Heathen community. They concern access to appropriate counseling, keeping of texts and objects, time and space for ritual celebration, and last rites of memorial and burial. No such consensus supports the lone soldier who insists wearing a full beard is a requirement of Heathenry.

My drinking horn, Thor's hammer pendant, and oath ring

First, there’s no theological or historical basis for such a claim. There are texts that mention some pagans of the long ago time having beards, but there are also texts that mention others that are clean shaven and still others that have moustaches only. There is no written commandment from Odin declaring that growing a beard is a prerequisite of being an adult male practitioner, and the evidence shows that fashions in facial hair changed over time and across space during the many centuries of pre-Christian Germanic polytheism.

Second, none of the major Heathen organizations in the U.S. or abroad list having a beard as a requirement for practicing the religion. To the contrary, they have mostly criticized and ridiculed this idea in public and private. There are definitely modern Heathen men who wear full beards, just as there are modern hipsters, metalheads, liberals, conservatives, truckers, and professors who wear full beards. There are also Heathens with moustaches, goatees, long hair, short hair, no hair, and every possible combination of grooming choices.

Third, there seems to be something else going on here. I’ve been contacted by soldiers and police officers asking me to provide them with evidence that beards were required in ancient Heathenry so that they can fight official regulations as discriminating against them. That’s the nub of the issue – the idea that they are victims of discrimination.

They usually open by stating that Muslim and Sikh men are allowed to wear beards, so they must have the same right because of their Heathen beliefs. They then claim ancestral connections to proud Germanic pagans and claim that they are the inheritors of an ancient tradition of sacred grooming that is somehow bound to both ancestry and religion.

From everything I’ve seen, this is mostly about the anger of these men at Muslims and Sikhs receiving what they see as unfairly preferential treatment. It’s a small part of a much larger cultural moment in which a subset of straight white men loudly proclaim that rights and recognition won by women, immigrants, people of color, members of minority religions, and members of the LGBTQ+ community are really attacks on them.

I fully admit there’s a strong counterargument to all of this which insists that Ásatrú and Heathenry are not dogmatic religions with centralized power structures, that local communities of practitioners decide the parameters of their own beliefs and practices, and that individuals can have direct experiences of the divine. What if you made a sacred oath not to cut your beard until a specific task had been accomplished – a grooming view that does have precedent in ancient texts? What if your local Heathen community believes that beards are required as a mark of belonging? What if you had a vision of Thor in which he told you to grow a beard as a sign of devotion?

These are issues between you, your religious community, and your deities. I don’t think it would be advisable or even possible for the U.S. Armed Forces to accommodate every religious oath, local community practice, and personal experience of revelation that contradicts some standard regulation. How would that even work?

As I said earlier, there are serious issues for Heathens in the military that a large proportion of practitioners have taken stands on, and there has been real progress in some of these areas. If an individual soldier can convince his commander that Thor wants him to have a beard, more power to him. It’s just not something that will get a wide base of support from a large number of practitioners in the wider world.

There’s been talk in the news, on and off, about white nationalists and other racist groups taking an interest in "Odinism." What’s the attraction, and is their aggression and hate the norm, in your experience, with other practitioners of the faith?

Despite media and academic fixation on this issue to the near-exclusion of any other aspect of Ásatrú and Heathenry, racist extremism is definitely not the norm among practitioners in the U.S. and worldwide. An impressive number of Heathen organizations worldwide have publicly signed Declaration 127, which includes this statement:
“We hereby declare that we do not condone hatred or discrimination carried out in the name of our religion, and will no longer associate with those who do. We will not grant the tacit approval of silence in the name of frið [peace], to those who would use our traditions to justify prejudice on the basis of race, nationality, orientation, or gender identity.”
The document specifically denounces the Asatru Folk Assembly, an American group that had its Facebook page taken down last year for posting racist material and which is now listed by the Southern Poverty Law Center as a hate group promoting “neo-Völkisch” ideology inspired by German racist nationalism from the late 1800s through the Nazi years.

Asatru Folk Assembly is listed as a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center

There are other Heathen groups and individuals that hold and promote racist views, and their loudness on the internet gives an exaggerated impression their actual numbers. They have been emboldened in the U.S. by the alt-right-adjacent public statements of Donald Trump as candidate and president and by mainstream media coverage that continues to scold non-Republicans and insist they have to listen to the concerns of the right-wing extremists regularly portrayed as “the folks next door.” Members of Heathenry’s racist fringe in the U.K., continental Europe, and the Nordic countries have been likewise emboldened by the rise of far-right politicians and the hateful rhetoric against immigrants and refugees.

The attraction of white nationalists to Heathenry today seems largely centered on an association of Germanic pagan literature and symbols with the Third Reich. Runic symbols pop up fairly regularly on flags and banners carried by neo-Confederates and alt-right activists, almost always in the distinctive forms used by the Nazis.

There’s also a fixation of many young straight white male extremists on the Viking Age as some sort of model for a pure white ethnostate. Scholars in Scandinavian and medieval studies have done a good job of pushing back on these racist fantasies of the era, despite problematic race issues in their own academic fields.

When religion is a factor in these hateful groups, it seems to be a secondary one. The Asatru Folk Assembly itself began as the Viking Brotherhood, a group that founder Stephen McNallen described as “a miniscule organization” that was “focused on the image of the warrior, and on the assertion of individual will and freedom that the warrior epitomizes.” He has also openly stated, “I think many people first get involved in racial politics, and then later decide that maybe Odinism or Asatrú [sic] attracts them.”

There is a subset of the far-right subculture that decided relatively recently that the evangelical Christianity they were raised in was “tainted” by its connections to Judaism and then moved over to Odinism or some other racist form of Heathenry. The negative aspects that they carry over from the worldview of their pre-conversion faith are usually fairly obvious and manifest as fundamentalism, sectarianism, overt homophobia, and an extremely conservative ideology regarding roles of women.

The mainstream Ásatrú and Heathen communities regularly denounce the hateful fringe. A far more widespread and pernicious problem is the fact that more subtle prejudice sneaks into even the most well-meaning groups of every religion. We all need to do a better job of questioning our own biases and challenging those around us who promote stereotypes and derogatory views of others.

Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and other major faiths are discussed openly in the media on a regular basis. With such a long-running tradition, and so many adherents, why are Pagan and Heathenistic faiths pushed to the side more often than not?

That’s an easy question to answer: the quest for clicks and the inherent biases of the journalists themselves.

On one hand, coverage of religion – like most corporate news – is driven by the profit motive. Journalists on what they themselves revealingly call “the God beat” write gushing pieces about Pope Francis as a liberal crusader because there is sizable demographic that will click on the headline. They write snarky pieces about fallen megachurch pastors because gleeful Schadenfreude also drives clicks. Writers fighting to justify their salaries in a hard market gravitate to the small cluster of topics that will get them hits and get them paid.

On the other hand, the personal beliefs of religion reporters often drive their reporting for supposedly secular news outlets. I’ve had many conversations about this issue with journalists who cover religion for major mainstream and corporate media. Publicly, they talk a good game about supporting diversity in the newsroom and in subjects covered. Privately, they say amazingly revealing things about their own religious allegiances (Christian), explain why they mostly cover Catholicism (positively) and evangelicals (critically), and respond to my calls for true diversity in hiring and writing (furiously). Unsurprisingly, they insist that the private conversations are off the record.

I have no problem with reporters reporting from a specific faith perspective. I was hired a columnist at The Wild Hunt specifically to do so. But The Wild Hunt openly announces itself as “a daily, independent news journal dedicated to serving the collective Pagan, Heathen and polytheist communities worldwide.” I openly declare my religious affiliations in my articles and my bio.

Writers for The Wild Hunt are open about their religious affiliations

The problem arises when reporters for trusted secular news organizations write news reports – not opinion columns – that promote their own religious tradition while actively hiding their own connection to that tradition. I’ve seen reporters who neglect to mention in their professional bios that they’re actually ordained and practicing ministers. Again, I have no problem with a minister doubling as a reporter. I just think it’s bizarre that their editors and publishers allow them to avoid full disclosure and to cover up conflicts of interest.

I purposely used the term inherent bias earlier, because it seems thaT the prejudices of the reporters sometimes unconsciously override their own search for clicks. Mainstream religion reporters overwhelmingly cover white Christians, yet white Christians now make up only 40% of Americans. White evangelicals are now only 17% of the country’s population, and white Catholics are down to 11%, but – despite these shrinking numbers – they continue to receive the lion’s share of coverage on “the God beat.” Editors hire people they feel comfortable around, and reporters write about what they know.

As always, bleeding can push a group into leading the news. Reporting on Islam surged after 9/11. Articles featuring Jewish perspectives on violence involving Palestinians continue to be regularly produced. Ásatrú and Heathenry only get featured in regards to the racist fringe we discussed earlier. Every once in a while, there’s a flurry of articles about Icelandic Ásatrú, but they either exclaim “People still believe in elves!” (with a picture of the Keebler Elves) or “People still believe in Thor!” (with a picture of Chris Hemsworth).

For the past few years, religion reporters have been pushing a narrative of “the rise of the Nones.” It focuses on deeply problematic American religion surveys that ask “Do you believe in God or not?” Published articles regularly jump straight from discussing the Abrahamic faiths to theorizing about atheists, agnostics, and the “religiously unaffiliated.” There’s no questioning of the question asked or mention of non-Abrahamic faiths. Is the erasure driven by willful prejudice or by inherent bias so strong that it blinds reporters to common sense?

This resolute focus on Abrahamic faiths and atheism while ignoring other religious traditions plays out not just in the media but also in interfaith organizations and university offices of spiritual life. Again, one factor is financial; as American participation in legacy religions shrinks, organizations are wooing atheists in an attempt to bolster their membership and income. The other factor is, of course, bias; the atheist who agrees to discuss the existence of an Abrahamic deity is necessarily part of a conversation in which practitioners of polytheistic religions have no part.

If we want to change this dynamic, we need to apply public pressure to editors and publishers of corporate news organizations that practice exclusion, and we need to financially support news outlets that provide inclusive coverage. Waiting for positive change accomplishes nothing. We are our deeds.
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