Questions About Ásatrú Religion

On Thursday, a journalist from the Star Tribune in Minneapolis contacted me with questions about Ásatrú and Heathenry, modern iterations of Norse and Germanic polytheistic religions. John Reinan was writing a local-focus piece involving the traditions and was researching background on the religions to give context to his article.

The core of Mr. Reinan's story was Camp Courage's cancellation of a booking by the Asatru Folk Assembly, an extremist organization that planned to use the Minnesota campground for what was presented as "a harvest-type festival." The AFA's reservation was cancelled when Camp Courage management determined that the group's "mission and areas of focus significantly conflict with [our] core values."

Logo of the Asatru Folk Assembly

Mr. Reinan did due diligence on the subject, speaking to practitioners of Ásatrú within and without the AFA, and wrote a piece that leaves no doubts about the racialist views of this particular organization. His article, "Minnesota camp cancels booking of Nordic heritage group with white supremacist bent," rises above past reporting on Ásatrú by Religion Dispatches and Religion News Service.

Across the globe, Heathens come from a wide variety of nationalities, ethnicities, economic circumstances, educational levels, and gender identities. There are African-American Heathens, Latinx Heathens, transgender Heathens, and Heathens who are members of LGBTQ+ communities. Ásatrú and Heathen organizations and individuals have repeatedly and publicly denounced the AFA as a fringe group that does not represent the overwhelming majority of those who practice the various associated traditions.

The questions that Mr. Reinan asked me were more insightful and interesting than many I have been asked by mainstream journalists on the topic of Ásatrú. Due to the space limitations of his article, he didn't use most of my answers. He has kindly given me permission to post his questions (in bold) along with my full replies.

In general, what is your view on the current state of Norse-focused religions? Are they gaining adherents in the United States? I’ve seen your 2013 census – do you still think that’s accurate?

Ásatrú and Heathenry are definitely growing in the United States. The results of the Worldwide Heathen Census I conducted in 2013 led me to estimate the number of adherents in the U.S. at nearly 20,000. The number has surely grown since then, and I am planning a follow-up census to reflect this growth.

Worldwide Heathen Census was conducted in 2013

My original study was designed to complement works like the U.S. Religious Landscape Survey by the Pew Research Center, which disappear members of minority religions into categories like "New Age" or "No Religious Preference." Such erasure distorts the rich web of small religions in the United States.

To what do you attribute the appeal of Nordic heritage religions?

The various revivals, reconstructions, and re-imaginings of pre-Christian Norse and Germanic religions appeal to a wide base of people for a wide variety of reasons.

In Iceland, members of the Ásatrúarfélagið ("Ásatrú Fellowship") can trace their family trees directly back to the pagan heroes of the sagas, so they are literally returning to the religion of their ancestors. This connection cannot be claimed by those who practice Heathenry in the other ninety-seven countries in which adherents have self-reported.

Some are attracted by the powerful pagan poetry of Iceland from the Viking age, some by the magnificent myths of the gods and heroes that have survived. Some people are drawn to the mystery of archeological finds documenting religious practices dating to nearly 2000 BCE – practices as old as the earliest beginnings of Judaism.

Bronze Age rock carving in Sweden

What makes Heathenry different from the majority of world religions is that the vast majority of its followers today choose to participate in the religion. This distinguishes the tradition from so many faiths – Christianity, Judaism, Islam – in which one basically continues the religion in which one was raised.

Through such a lens, Heathenry is a religion of free will and adult choice, and the others are based on family practice and ancestry.

What makes a group a religion rather than a cultural enterprise?

What makes any group a religion rather than a cultural enterprise? If we define "religious practice" to mean only a sacred moment in which one is engaged with the numinous, then Heathenry qualifies just as much as Christianity or any other better-known faith.

But the lines between religion and cultural enterprise are blurred for all of us. How often do we hear that a friend is "culturally Catholic" or "culturally Jewish"?

There is more to belonging to a tradition than that moment when one eats the communion wafer or raises the horn to Odin.

How accurate or authentic are the religious beliefs and practices observed by these religions? In other words, do you think they’re some actual approximation of pre-Christian beliefs and practices, or are they more a wishful re-creation in modern terms of what people hope or guess they were like?

There is a variety of approach to ritual and belief in worldwide Heathenry, just as there is for any religious tradition.

Like Christians who insist that today's practice must approximate as closely as possible the rituals of the first century of Christianity, there are Heathen reconstructionists who insist that ritual and worldview must be based on rigorous study of primary and academic sources.

First-century ritual of the goddess Nerthus (Emil Doepler, 1900)

Like liberal Jewish practitioners, there are Heathens who believe that their religion must change with the times and incorporate modern developments in science, human rights, and so forth.

Is it fair to ask a Muslim today how "accurate or authentic" her religious beliefs and practices are? Religious traditions are very complex and interesting things.

Do you consider the Asatru Folk Assembly to be a white supremacist group?

Since its inception, the leaders of the Asatru Folk Assembly have defined the organization in opposition to the tolerant mainstream of Heathenry.

Stephen McNallen, the organization's founder, told religious historian Mattias Gardell that the founding of the group was in reaction to "liberals, affirmative-action Asatrúers, black goðar [priests], and New Agers" populating American Ásatrú.

McNallen is profiled in Gods of the Blood

For decades, McNallen and prominent members have issued screeds against racial minorities, claimed that religious affiliation is determined by DNA, and insisted that their version of the religion is only for white people.

The group's tactic has long been to use dog-whistle terms while simultaneously engaging in activities such as recruiting at white-power conventions, as reported by Media Matters and confirmed by sociologist Dr. Jennifer Snook. Recently, the new leadership has abandoned the old caution and openly used white nationalist rhetoric in public statements.

At this point, with decades of history and documentation, it is difficult to see the AFA as anything other than a hate group on the extreme fringe of Heathenry.

In your view, how widespread are supremacists in the Nordic folk religions versus those who are involved for benign cultural reasons?

Every religion has an extremist fringe. Many groups have racists that appropriate their traditions to promote far-right ideologies.

Heathenry is no different, yet the coverage of Heathenry is different. Almost without exception, journalists and academics will only cover the racist element. This is quite different from treatment of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.

White nationalists vs. regular Heathens as % of total Heathen
community, based on research of sociologist Jennifer Snook

The tiny percentage of extremist Heathens is repeatedly held up for public scrutiny while the mainstream of everyday Heathens is completely ignored. This is a shameful practice, and I hope that – with the growth of the Heathen population in the United States – this will change.

Safe Spaces at University of Chicago

This week, a letter from the Dean of Students in The College of the University of Chicago to incoming freshmen received much media attention. The letter by Dean John (Jay) Ellison welcomes incoming students of the Class of 2020, congratulating them on their acceptance and thanking them for choosing to attend the University of Chicago as undergraduates. A large part of the letter is standard and uncontroversial.

One of the entrances to the University of Chicago

However, this paragraph stood out:

Our commitment to academic freedom means that we do not support so-called "trigger warnings," we do not cancel invited speakers because their topics might prove controversial, and we do not condone the creation of intellectual "safe spaces" where individuals can retreat from ideas and perspectives at odds with their own.

Interestingly, both trigger warnings and safe spaces were presented in quotation marks, while academic freedom was not. This guided the reporting on and discussion of the letter in both mainstream media and social media. Many accepted at face value that the university was taking a principled stand for freedom of speech.

However, as a member of a minority religion in the University of Chicago Divinity School's graduate program, I have had many personal experiences that directly contradict the letter's assertions that all perspectives are welcome at the institution. Since I joined the program in 2014, there have also been several reported incidents that suggest the university has ongoing issues with equal rights for many kinds of minorities. These problems are not unique to this institution.

Given these issues, I recently revived the dormant Interfaith Dialogue organization at the school and now serve as president. Upon seeing the dean's letter, I immediately made a public statement declaring Interfaith Dialogue to be a safe space for members of minority faiths.

I was soon contacted by Beth McMurtrie, Senior Writer for The Chronicle of Higher Education. She asked to interview me for "a story about reaction on campus to the U of Chicago's letter to new students about safe spaces/academic freedom." As happened in my past interviews with The Daily Beast, OnFaith, Public Radio International, and The History Channel, only a tiny bit of my answer was used for the article as published. In this case, Ms. McMurtrie only used one sentence of mine.

I completely understand. Journalists must collect and review a great amount of information, then condense and select what they have gathered to create a clear narrative. However, I would like to offer my full answers here, since they place in perspective the small quote that was used in Ms. McMurtrie's article.

What follows are her questions (in bold) and my answers. This is a complicated issue, and there are no easy solutions.

What's your reaction to the letter?

I immediately and publicly declared Interfaith Dialogue, the registered student organization I lead as president, to be a safe space for members of minority religious traditions.

Interfaith Dialogue at the University of Chicago

As the first practitioner of Ásatrú (a modern iteration of Old Norse polytheistic religion) in the Divinity School's graduate program and as someone who had family in death camps in the mid-twentieth century, I feel a particular responsibility to stand with minority faith adherents whose voices have not been widely heard and whose experiences have not been openly addressed.

What do you think the administration was trying to say and why?

One of the things we learn early at the Divinity School is that we cannot know what is in the heart of someone who creates a text. We can only deal with the text as it stands and discuss various modes of reading and interpretation.

The University of Chicago Divinity School

That being said, the online and social media reaction to the letter has been noteworthy.

Members of the extremist alt-right community have been high-fiving the university for standing up for "free speech" and against "social justice warriors" and "cultural Marxists." The same segment of society is using the same terminology to cheer the university as it has been using to cheer the most disturbing elements of Donald Trump's presidential campaign.

Whatever the original intention of the letter, this is troubling and should be publicly addressed.

Any broader comments about the larger debate around safe spaces and trigger words that academia is wrestling with?

There has recently been heated discussion of these issues by academics, students, media, and commentariat. We are taught in the Divinity School to interrogate what is behind questions asked and to examine power dynamics of such interactions.

Projecting an image of diversity at the University of Chicago

Within the academy, who is standing up on either side of this debate? Many very emotional issues are at play here, but I worry that stances against safe spaces and trigger warnings by faculty and administrators in the name of free speech are sometimes made in order to maintain a status quo in which young women and members of underrepresented minority communities do not feel safe questioning the often traditionally patriarchal systems in which they find themselves.

How do we balance the right to free speech of tenured professors with equal rights for undergraduate students whose worldviews have long gone unheard in the academy? I am not sure that receiving such a letter from upper administration effectively communicates the University of Chicago's true and real dedication to an open dialogue in which a young Latina student can raise her hand in class and strongly challenge a statement made by a senior faculty member without fear of reprisal.

Religion and Politics in Ásatrú and Heathenry

In the online world of Ásatrú and Heathenry, the reprimand “stop mixing religion and politics” is a regular refrain. On Facebook and Twitter, on blogs and websites, in discussion groups and comment sections, accusations are often made that a given individual or group is polluting the religion with personal political bias. This phenomenon is not specific to a particular position; invective is hurled from both ends of the political spectrum.

Odin actually does look a bit like Karl Marx.
Odin the Wanderer by Georg von Rosen (1843-1923)

From one side come cries of “SJW.” Given the ideologies of many who favor its usage, I long thought this stood for “Single Jewish Woman,” but it is actually used to accuse an opponent of being a “Social Justice Warrior.” Logically, this implies that the accuser is a “Social Injustice Defender,” but logic is not often strong in online confrontations. “Cultural Marxist” is another term popular with the same social set. I assumed it was used for people who demand free streaming music as a basic human right, but it refers to those who supposedly aim to destroy “Western culture” by promoting democracy, intellectualism and protection of minority rights – despite the fact that many would consider these to be bedrock ideals of “the West.” Ironically, those Heathens who decry multiculturalism are arguing for a society in which members of marginalized minority faiths like Ásatrú are denied their rights by members of majority faiths whose prejudices are pandered to by corporate candidates and corporate media.

From the other side comes the No True Heathen fallacy, which asserts that no Heathen would subscribe to extremist philosophies such as “white nationalism” or conspiracy theories such as “white genocide.” When Heathens repeatedly pop up who promote these concepts, the boundaries of the assertion are reset to state that no true Heathen would hold these beliefs. This is parallel to the meme stating that members of ISIS are not true Muslims and that members of the KKK are not true Christians, despite the fact that ISIS clearly declares itself to be thoroughly Muslim and the KKK has long been rooted in Protestantism. Likewise, the intersection of Heathenry with extremist ideology has a lengthy and continuing history that has been well documented by academics. Declaring that agreement with liberal politics is the litmus test to be considered a “true believer” strangely puts progressives in the position of arguing for a reactionary notion of religious purity and identity policing.

The one thing both sides agree on is that the other is injecting politics into religion, while they themselves are simply expressing the true spirit of Heathenry. Each accuses the other of hijacking Heathenry to promote their political views. However, the idea that religion and politics are somehow separable goes against Heathen history, mythology and theology.

History

Before the conversions to Christianity, variations of the term goði were used in the Nordic lands. The title, dating to the fifth century or earlier, referred to an individual who held dual secular and sacred roles, who was both chieftain and priest. The goðar (plural) in pagan Iceland traveled each year to the national Althing, the island’s version of the great assemblies that were known throughout the Germanic world. Throughout the north, these meetings ranged in size and jurisdiction from local to national as they straddled the sacred and the profane.

Althing in Session by W.G. Collingwood (1854-1932)

Archaeological and written sources from the first century through the thirteenth attest to the sacred nature of the cultural institution that decided political, economic and legal matters. A third-century votive inscription on Hadrian’s Wall in England set up by Frisian auxiliaries in the Roman army refers to Mars Thingsus (Mars of the Thing), the god who presided over the assembly. The large annual assembly of the continental Saxons appears to have featured large-scale religious rituals. The ninth-century Life of Saint Lebuin, most likely written by a Saxon author, mentions that the meeting included prayer to pagan gods.

Given this history, is it so odd that modern Heathen leaders who have appropriated the ancient title of goði speak on secular issues? The allsherjargoði (very roughly translated as “high priest”) of Iceland’s Ásatrúarfélagið (Ásatrú Fellowship) has spoken out in support of gay marriage rights in Iceland, which has drawn the ire of right-wing Heathens and the support of left-wing ones. The alsherjargothi (an Americanized spelling) of America’s Asatru Folk Assembly has publicly spoken out against Muslim immigrants in Germany, which has brought down the fury of left-wing Heathens and the cheers of right-wing ones.

In both cases, supporters insist the leader they like is expressing the deepest ideals of the religion, and opponents declare that the leader they don’t like is perverting the religion for political ends. At root, this is a basic human inability to see faults in ourselves that we observe in others. This tendency tends to terminate any attempt at decent discussion by degenerating into denunciation and name-calling.

I am not in any way suggesting a moral equivalency between the two leader’s positions or arguing that we should not speak out strongly against those who we believe promote troubling views. Instead, I am offering the idea that responses to statements such as these should move beyond what amount to accusations of heresy and demands for silencing that sometimes become what the media calls fatwas.

Historical goðar were involved in both religious and political matters, and they arguably would not have made much distinction between the two spheres. Members of the community sometimes strongly disagreed with prominent people, just as they do now. If historical Heathens could argue issues at the assembly without calling for excommunication or declaring someone anathema for holding a political view they found distasteful, maybe we can likewise respond to opposing opinions without demanding that there should be no discussion allowed.

Mythology

Referring to mythological lore to support one’s political ideas has always been popular. The poems of the Poetic Edda provide problems for both sides of the political aisle, yet both happily quote them to shore up their positions. One oft-cited verse from Hávamál (“Sayings of the High One,” i.e. Odin) has been read in radically different ways.

Away from his arms in the open field
A man should fare not a foot;
For never he knows when the need for a spear
Shall arise on the distant road.

Some Americans read the text fairly literally, arguing that it gives a Heathen stamp to the notion of gun ownership and carrying rights. Some Icelanders read it metaphorically, suggesting that it is a poetic image about being intellectually prepared for the struggles of life. The literalists argue that they are following what the text actually says, the liberals that they are finding what it really means.

The argument between these two modes of reading religious texts is nothing new. Just ask your local rabbi. In the fourth century, the Christian bishop Gregory of Nyssa famously wrote on the difficulties of choosing between literal and allegorical readings. Interestingly, allêgoria posed a bit of a problem for early Christians, since the method was associated with the old pagan philosophy. In any case, both readings of the Hávamál verse owe more to modern cultural concepts than they do to ancient Heathen views. One side is justifying conservative American ideas of gun rights, the other is expressing liberal Icelandic ideas of intellectual life. Both use the same verse from the Old Icelandic literary heritage as a touchstone for their modern views.

Hávamál by W.G. Collingwood (1854-1932)

The poem Rígsþula (“Lay of Ríg,” a god usually taken to be Heimdall) causes some political problems for both right and left. It tells how the wandering god fathers the social classes of slaves, free farmers and nobles before tutoring Konr ungr (“young kin,” but a word-play on konungr, “king”) in the way of a ruler. Is this a religious or a political text? For those who argue against multiculturalism, the poem presents a god with a Celtic name in a narrative that – with its religious endorsement of a caste system and a descended god who teaches royal behavior – is closer to the sacred social structures of the ancient Hindu epics than it is to the Protestant work-ethic expressed in the Nine Noble Virtues. For those who champion progressive Heathenry, the poem shows that the gods gave social inequality to you. Rígsþula is awkward for both sides, but it clearly mixes the sacred and the social. Like those in so many other religious traditions, we pick and choose which parts of the lore to emphasize and which to minimize.

Another poem that is problematic for all concerned is Hárbarðsljóð (“Song of Graybeard,” i.e. Odin), which features a verbal sparring match between Thor and a disguised Odin as they compare their accomplishments. One of the best-known moments is Graybeard’s taunt that “Odin owns the nobles who fall in battle | and Thor owns the race of thralls.” The rugged individualist crowd is faced with a poem portraying Odin himself stating that class warfare continues into the Heathen afterlife. By rallying the slaves in Þrúðheim (“Home of Power”), is Thor acting like a Social Justice Warrior? By hosting them in his hall, is he providing public assistance to the poor?

On the other hand, the progressive pagan crowd is faced with the inconvenient truth that the one thing the wise god and the protecting god agree on is that it would be fun to rape a young woman together. Somehow, this section of the poem doesn’t get publicly mentioned very often. The victim the gods discuss is a “linen-white girl,” which (if the internet was a logical place) should lead to protests and petitions against Thor and Odin by the far-right crowd that rants against Idris Elba playing Heimdall (“the whitest of the gods”) and thinks there’s an international conspiracy against white women. Even leaving an in-context interpretation of “white” aside, the fondness of the gods for rape is problematic for both sides. Should we pretend this poem never existed? Should we tell the gods to stop talking about hot-button political issues?

Theology

Contemporary Heathen theology also argues against the separation of religion and politics. To say that Heathenry is a “world-accepting” religion is to say that Heathens move in the world. Our focus is on the lived life, on the world around us as we move from the past through the present and into the future. If we disengage Heathen life from the wider world and insist that Heathen action only happens in religious contexts, then we are drawing a hard line between the sacred and secular much stronger than that in any ritual hallowing.

If “Heathening” only means participating in and discussing ritual and belief, then it also means disengaging from the world – the very antithesis of “world-accepting.” Few seem to argue for any such extreme disengagement, but it is not uncommon to come across use of the Old Icelandic term for “within the yard” to state “not my innangarð, not my problem.”

The Heathen mantra that “we are our deeds” asserts that what matters is what we do. Like the Hindu concept of dharma, the Heathen idea of right action defines the making of a good life. What is important in life is how we act in the world, not just how we behave while participating in blót. If Heathen ethics only affect our behavior around other Heathens, we imitate “Sunday Christians” by becoming “Sumbel Heathens,” and we imitate the “churchy” by becoming “kindredy.”

Sacrifice to Thor by J.L. Lund (1777-1867)

It would be quite odd for members of a religion that seeks to reconstruct or reinvent practices of the wide-ranging wanderers of the Migration Period and the Viking Age to turn inwards to innangarð insularity. To say we have a “Heathen worldview” suggests that we see the world beyond our doorstep and take action within it.

None of the above argues against the separation of church and state, which most of us agree is good policy, despite the fact that it owes more to the Enlightenment than to the Heathen Age. Rather, this article addresses how we address the interaction between the religious and political beliefs of both ourselves and those with whom we disagree.

For Heathens, religion and politics are always already linked. By acknowledging that, maybe we can move beyond the childish name-calling and purity inquisitions to discuss the issues and challenges of living in the world today – and how we can each take action that is consistent with our own diverse Heathen worldviews.

This article originally appeared at The Wild Hunt.

A College Student Asks About Norse Mythology and Norse Religion, Part Two

Click here for Part One.

3. I read on your blog that you are a musician. How have you integrated your religion into your music?

There are several ways that I have consciously incorporated my religion into my music. Here are just two of them.

Blue Rhizome by The New Quartet

First, I believe in interfaith dialogue and inclusivity, even if the “great religions” don’t really return the favor. I wrote the extended composition that appears on my Blue Rhizome album for mixed quartet. Not only were the players mixed in the sense of playing a non-standard combination of instruments, but they came from a mixed religious background: Ásatrú, Baptist, Jewish, and Greek Orthodox. The beginning of my liner notes explain the spiritual impetus for the music:

The composition of this piece was inspired by a crisis of faith. Not religious faith, but faith in humanity. 150 years from now, it is guaranteed that everyone now alive will be in the ground or consumed by flames. There will be no exceptions. All our efforts, dreams, and hopes will end as all biographies must.

In these few years that we have of consciousness and life, we divide ourselves into tribes. Our choice of friends, lovers, and colleagues is based on comfort with what we see as members of our own group. Ethnicity, race, religion, culture, and nationality are used as an excuse to shut out love, new experiences, challenges to our habits, and expansion of our experiences. The Other is judged and the Like is embraced, whether consciously or not.

The music plots a psychological trajectory from “the sadness and despair of those wandering between tribes” through stages including “a meditation on the transitory nature of life” to “the glimmer of hope that we may find kindred spirits across tribal lines.” The peak of the piece is “Destroy All Monsters,” my electric guitar duet with drummer Chris Avgerin, which “represents the anger that can grow out of sadness, whether the Monster is racism, sexism, or the Snake That Encircles the World.”

Thor vs the World Serpent by Ernst Hansen

That last bit is, of course, a reference to the World Serpent, the great enemy of the god Thor. The thought behind the guitar solo was inspired by a famous verse from the Sayings of the High One in which Odin says:

Where you recognize evil, call it evil,
and give no truce to your enemies.

I have been called a “social justice warrior” by online wags for daring to suggest that racism and sexism are evils and monsters that we must confront. Such is life.

Second, I believe that the subjective experience that I often have of composing and improvising music is the same basic experience that the Elder Heathen conceived of as inspiration by the god Odin. When I recorded some of the guitar and bass tracks for Of Alien Feelings, my collaboration with the great drummer Calvin Weston that featured a cross-section of legendary prog rock and jazz players from the last half-century, I simply hit the record button, closed my eyes, and opened my mind so that the music could flow through me without the commentary of my conscious mind. This is not always an easy thing for a trained musician to do!

In the best moments, I would feel like the music was coming from outside of me, that I was not consciously creating it. This is the experience of pure creativity that I think was understood as possession by Odin or as the effect of drinking his magical Mead of Poetry.

Odin by Lorenz Froølich

Intellectually, I understand that creativity can come from our brains combining past experiences in novel ways, that it can be partially explained by the science of the mind. I also understand that, in the actual moment of creativity, I am not aware of whatever electric connections are being made inside my skull.

Scientific theories are necessary for our understanding of reality, but there are also needs that can only be filled by religion, spirituality, and the arts. I believe that the creative experience transcends time, space, and culture, and I think of these bright moments as times when Odin’s inspiration briefly touches me.

4. How have you connected with others who practice Ásatrú?

There are many ways that Heathens find each other. Sometimes, it’s just a pleasant surprise, like when I reconnected years ago with a close friend from high school. We had drifted apart over the long period since we were teenage Motörhead fans together, but when we found each other again, somehow we were both Heathens. The Norns are subtle.

The Norns by Carl Emil Doepler

I have sought out others because I was interested in their writing or academic work, and others have sought me out for the same reason. Intellectual discussion often develops into friendship. I have also met Heathens in places where one would expect to find them, like visiting the headquarters and attending the events of the Ásatrúarfélagið (Ásatrú Fellowship) in Iceland.

There’s also the internet, of course. On one hand, you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. There are trolls lurking everywhere, but that is not a necessarily Heathen phenomenon. I’ve seen equal nastiness in Tolkien fandom and discussions between professional musicians. It’s just an unfortunate element intrinsic to online interaction.

On the other had, what we old graybeards used to call “the Information Superhighway” can also be a great way for members of religious minorities to find fellow practitioners. I have found Heathens on social media who I have subsequently met in this thing called life. Jennifer Snook’s book on Heathens in the U.S. has a great discussion of the pros and cons of Heathenry’s relationship with the internet.

5. How are Ásatrú, Heathenry, and Paganism related?

In very general terms, you could say that each is under the umbrella of the next. Basically, you can think of each one like this.

Thor's Hammer pendant from Erikstorp, Odeshög,
Ostergotland, Sweden, probably before 1016

Ásatrú refers to religions that largely center on the Old Norse sources, meaning that they focus on the deities, myths, and practices as described in Icelandic literary sources and various other texts and archaeological finds that are related to them.

Heathenry is a larger term for Germanic polytheistic traditions that include Ásatrú as well as related religious beliefs and practices such as Theodism (which emphasizes Anglo-Saxon sources) and a wide range of praxis based on local and regional traditions (recreated or newly made).

Paganism is a yet wider term that encompasses Heathenry, Wicca, Druidism, and a large number of religions that claim connection to various cultural backgrounds (Baltic, Hellenic, Italic, and so on).

As with any religious terminology, these definitions are widely contested and argued. Some practitioners see Ásatrú and Heathenry as synonymous while others see them as oppositional. Paganism sometimes seems to only mean Wicca, especially as it used by mainstream booksellers (see, for example, the “Witchcraft, Wicca & Paganism – Modern” section at Barnes & Noble).

I once had a religion editor at a cable news network condescendingly explain to me that “Heathenry and Wicca are denominations of the religion of Paganism.” I think you would be hard-pressed to find many Heathens or Wiccans who would agree with his construction. We may argue over the fine shadings of the terms, but there are also some clear divisions.

6. I read an article that was written recently about how Iceland is building the first Norse gods temple in one thousand years. How has not having a place to worship affected your religious practice?

Like your question about Western culture, this makes me a bit sad. It suggests that the mainstream media misrepresentation of Heathenry has permeated popular perception to the same degree that academic misdirection of the trajectory of history and literature has shaped student views.

Valheim Hof in Denmark, dedicated to Odin and the gods

First, the hof (Heathen temple) being built in Iceland is not the first temple to the Norse gods built in the past thousand years. It’s not even the first one this decade. There are Heathen hofs on private property around the world, but we don’t know exactly how many. They are private places of veneration and ritual that are not publicly announced but are used by individuals, families, or groups.

We do know of several temples currently in operation around the world, including in Maryland, California, Denmark and England. We can definitely say that when it is finished – likely in winter 2017 or later – the Icelandic temple will be the first large-scale public hof built in Iceland in the last thousand years.

The story of the future Iceland temple went viral in a media frenzy a while ago, but most of the online articles misrepresented what was really happening as they plagiarized content and lifted quotes without attribution. Such is today’s religion journalism.

Second, I think we have to be careful about using generic concepts of “a place to worship.” The idea that religious ritual requires a brick-and-mortar structure for large congregations to gather in front of an ordained clergyperson is not universal.

This is my temple, no walls needed:
Michigan's Upper Peninsula in 2015

Much Heathen ritual takes place outside, where we tend to feel closer to the gods and wights. I personally feel closest to the wights when we are out walking quietly in one of America’s beautiful forests. The woods have always been a mystical place for me. We planted and dedicated a Thor’s Oak in our back yard, and that is where I speak and make offerings to the Powers in a conscious emulation of fragmentary descriptions of Germanic ritual in the surviving texts.

We also celebrate the high days of the Heathen calendar in our home, with family gathered around the table or in front of the fireplace. This also has a basis in historical practice, in which the home was often the center of family religious activity. So, I think not having a big, public, tax-exempt structure listed on Google Maps has had absolutely no effect on my religious practice.

7. I have been reading a lot about the traditional Norse deities. For example, Thor, Odin, and Freyr. What roles do these gods have in modern Ásatrú? Do you actively worship them?

There are many gods, goddesses, and wights that inhabit the Heathen world. Their roles are multiform and multivalent.

Freyr, Odin and Thor by Wilhelm Kaulbach

You often hear that Thor is the god of thunder, but I would question what function thunder has. Is Thor’s role as a deity to make noise during storms? That seems fairly limited in scope. I would say, instead, that thunder is one manifestation of his power. Thor has many roles, including protector of humanity from the threatening forces of the uncultivated world, bringer of the rains that enable life to grow and flourish, and the one who hallows life events such as marriages and funerals.

Another Heathen may say that one or none of these are true descriptions of Thor’s role in her life. She may not pay much attention to Thor, instead focusing on Odin, Freyja, or another deity in her thoughts and actions. In polytheistic religions, the many gods play many roles and are open to many interpretations.

I would also question use of the word worship, contemporary use of which tends to privilege ways of relating to godhood that are rooted in the monotheistic traditions of the Middle East. Heathens often talk of reciprocal gifting with the gods or of honoring their ancestors, which are both quite different modes of religious action from praising an almighty deity. When I raise a drinking horn to Odin, to the spirits of the land, or to my deceased father, the action and the meanings behind it have very little to do with, for example, the praising and flattering of God that I have often seen in Evangelical churches where I’ve been hired to play bass for services.

My ritual drinking horn, carved by Jóhanna G. Harðardóttir

One of the best poems by one of the best poets of the Elder Heathen Era both rails at Odin for the premature death of the poet’s sons and thanks him for the gift of poetic ability which enables his expression of grief. This understanding and acceptance that the gods bring both good and bad, both suffering and joy, is one of the defining areas of difference between polytheism and monotheism. Heathens don’t ask why God allows bad things to happen to good people. They accept that the gods, like everything in this cosmos, are complicated.

8. What role do the Nine Noble Virtues have in your practice?

None. I mean no offense to those who place value on them. I understand that the Nine Noble Virtues are meaningful to some Heathens, that they are a source of inner strength, and that they are a way to focus on positivity in their lives. It is not anyone’s business to tell someone that her personal religious beliefs are invalid. That way lies fundamentalism. However, I steer clear of the NNV in my own practice for several reasons.

The Seven Heavenly Virtues date to the 5th century.
What motivated modern Heathens to imitate them?

They were supposedly “codified” from the poems of the Poetic Edda. To begin with, I don’t believe that poetry can truly be translated. There is too much cultural meaning and association packed into each word, especially when you go back to poetry from over a millennium ago. How do you translate a symphony written for orchestra by Beethoven? If you play it on solo xylophone, it simply is not the symphony any more.

Following from this, I really don’t believe that poetry can be codified, especially religious poetry. How do you codify a symphony by Beethoven? If you reduce it to a few isolated and unconnected single notes, you are destroying the core of what defines the work – the act of listening to its complete duration and experiencing it in its fullness. The same goes for religious poetry. Codifying a poem or set of poems into a list of single nouns is simply not something I can get behind.

It’s also a bit odd that Odin himself violates each of the Nine Noble Virtues, right there in the poems themselves. To avoid fighting frost-giants (Courage), he gives a false name (Truth) as he breaks his pledge (Honor) to a giant-maiden (Fidelity). He can’t resist personally insulting Thor (Discipline) and refuses to help him (Hospitality), even though Thor fights the giants for him (Self-reliance) while he’s off having love affairs (Industriousness) or cursing a foster-son for his imperfections instead of continuing to mentor him (Perseverance).

Odin doesn't seem all that concerned with virtue.
Sculpture by Herman Ernst Freund

You could go through this same exercise with other deities in the poems and myths. I think this further undermines the assertion that the NNV were codified from the poems.

What these polytheistic poems paint for me is a portrait of a complex set of worldviews that offers no simple answers. Odin is subtle, and Sayings of the High One resists reduction to tidy, unambiguous virtues. The very idea of creating a list of guidelines for behavior seems to imitate the concept from patriarchal monotheist religions of revealed law, to create a simple code that functions like Ten Heathen Commandments carved onto rune-stones and brought down the Rainbow Bridge from Asgard.

To make a different religio-cultural comparison, the NNV assert a simple, communal, universal dharma for all Heathens as opposed to a complex, localized, individual dharma for each Heathen. The NNV are thus internally contradictory as they simultaneously advocate for rugged individualism and for conformist groupthink.

As I said at the beginning of my answer to this question, I realize that some Heathens find value in the Nine Noble Virtues. I don’t deign to tell them how to believe or practice. I simply don’t find the NNV valuable, and the above outlines some of the many reasons why. Your mileage may vary.

Thank you for your thoughtful questions. I hope that my answers will encourage you to dig deeper into historical and modern Heathenry. Please keep me posted on your studies!

A College Student Asks About Norse Mythology and Norse Religion, Part One

I fairly regularly receive emails from students with school assignments that include interview projects. There are far too many requests for me to respond to all the questions, but I have written detailed answers to various young people over the past few years and posted them in the For Students section of The Norse Mythology Blog.

In 2011, I answered a series of questions from a high school student. In 2012, I wrote replies to a middle school student. In 2013, I was interviewed by a sixth grader. In 2014, I provided answers for another sixth grader. I somehow never got around to working on one of these interview requests in 2015, but this post features the first group of my answers to a college student who is researching Norse mythology and religion.

College of Saint Benedict in St. Joseph, Minnesota

Lily Hauger is a nursing student taking the Religions of the World class taught at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University in Minnesota by Dr. Hans Gustafson, a member of the Theology Department at the University of St. Thomas and Associate Director of the Jay Phillips Center for Interfaith Learning.

For her semester project, Lily chose to study Ásatrú (“Æsir Faith”), a modern iteration of Norse religion. She sent me some very interesting questions that show how deeply she has thought about these issues – and that reflect the excellent research she has already done on the subject.

I’m very happy that Dr. Gustafson is encouraging his students to study religions with which they may not be familiar. The two of us have been corresponding for a couple of years, and he has been a great supporter of the inclusion of Ásatrú in interfaith dialogue. He asked me a while ago to recommend texts on historical and modern Heathenry (Germanic polytheism) to include on the recommended reading list for his world religions course.

It’s great that Dr. Gustafson is so welcoming of minority religions in an academic and theological context, and it’s wonderful that Lily decided to research the topic. I hope that the answers I’m posting this week and next will be of some help to other students curious about Ásatrú and Heathenry.

1. In what ways have you blended your religious beliefs with Western culture?

My religious beliefs are rooted in Western culture, and Western culture is rooted in my religious beliefs. Let me try to explain.

I used to teach in the religion department of a private liberal arts college where “Western Heritage” is taught with the “foundational texts of the Western intellectual tradition.” This preserves an older, Eurocentric way of teaching college students that accepts a colonialist division of the world into West and East or, to use the old-fashioned terms, Occidental and Oriental.

An English map of the world from c.1265

Strangely, this division stretches a definition of the West in order to concentrate on a Christian view of culture that jumps in time and place from Latin antiquity and Biblical times in southern Europe, Africa, and the Middle East to the early modern period in western and northern Europe.

In the first semester, students read works from ancient Greece (southeastern Europe), Italy (south-central Europe), Africa (south of Europe) and the Middle East (east of Europe). The latest text is from the fourth century. In the second semester, the students skip ahead one thousand years and read texts from the fourteenth century and later. They are introduced to works from England, France, Germany, and other nations of western and northern Europe.

This raises two questions. What was happening in western and northern Europe in the years between the fourth and fourteenth centuries? Does any literature survive from this time and area?

To answer the first question: a lot was happening. As the Roman Empire collapsed and the Huns pushed westwards, the so-called Migration Age began in the late fourth century. Change was the order of the day as various Germanic tribes fought for and consolidated power over a wide geographical area in what we now call Europe. These tribes slowly converted to Christianity from paganism over the next centuries.

By the time the Viking Age began in the late eighth century with the first raids on England, the Scandinavian invaders were seen by the Christian English as terrifying pagans – despite the fact that the Anglo-Saxons had themselves worshiped the same or similar gods scarcely more than a century earlier. By the end of the Viking Age in the eleventh century, almost all of Scandinavia was Christian; paganism in Sweden held on until the mid-twelfth century.

When we look at the surviving evidence for Germanic religions between the fourth century and the twelfth century, we have to acknowledge that we are talking about a large number of divergent peoples who held a great variety of religious beliefs and engaged in a wide array of religious practices. There was no one great Heathen religion with a common theology and praxis; there was an array of somewhat related beliefs and practices that differed with period and location.

We can, in the most general terms, say that this era saw the flowering of Germanic religions with roots that we can trace back to around 2000 BCE. Unfortunately, it also saw the willful eradication of the religions by Christian clergy and political leaders.

To answer the second question: yes, literature survives. Beowulf’s events take place during the Migration Age; the lengthy poem that is generally considered the first great work of English literature was probably composed in the eighth century and is preserved in a manuscript from around the year 1000. The German Nibelungenlied is also inspired by events in the Migration Age and was written down in approximately 1200; another version of the story is told in the thirteenth-century Icelandic Völsunga saga – both texts influenced the composition of Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen and J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. There are German poems going back quite far, like the Hildebrandslied of around 800, which share characters and themes with much later texts.

First page of Beowulf in the surviving manuscript

The great flowering of Icelandic literature in the thirteenth century preserved both the poems that are our primary source for Norse mythology and the sagas purporting to portray life in pagan northern Europe – and, most importantly, of the Viking Age – through shelves full of what would later be called novels, five hundred years before Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding. Almost all of these texts are available in translation for you to read.

So, the earliest literature of western and northern Europe grows out of the events of the Migration Age and the Viking Age. This time period set the stage for all the ups and downs of European history into our own times. The earliest beginnings of what later came to be the kingdoms, empires, and nations of Europe began at this time. The Germanic languages became ever more distinct from each other and set the stage for the evolution of the languages we speak today, like English, German, Dutch, and Norwegian.

The literature of this period did not simply record the events of the past; it interpreted them according to the times of its creators and influenced generations of listeners and readers to this day. Why academic study of “Western Heritage” so often skips over this time period and this literature is a complicated saga in itself, but it is beyond the scope of this already overlong answer to your question. I would, however, encourage students to ask their teachers why they skip over this period of one thousand years.

My point is this: my religious beliefs are grounded in the history and literature of one of the most important and foundational periods of Western culture. All of the texts I mentioned preserve literary evidence for the beliefs and practices of the pre-Christian religions that, since the early 1970s, have been revived, reconstructed, and reimagined as Ásatrú and Heathenry.

Thor's Hammer Pendant from the Viking Age
Bredsätra, Öland, Sweden

I look to scholarly work on this period and to the literature that survives for inspiration. The scholarship provides information on how the old pagan religions may have been practiced while offering theories on the worldviews and beliefs of what some practitioners today call Elder Heathens or Arch-Heathens. The literature preserves some of the mythology (unfortunately a mere drop in the ocean of what is forever lost) and gives us insights into pagan life preserved by writers and chroniclers relatively close chronologically to the events described.

The fact that a well-educated and inquisitive college student like you would see this religious tradition as something separate from Western culture makes me a bit sad, because it means that there is a hole at the heart of our modern educational system. It also makes me more determined to continue my own projects and to promote the work of others who work to keep this material alive.

2. As a student who is studying Ásatrú and Norse mythology for the first time, what do you think is vital for me to know?

Ásatrú has often been called “the religion with homework.” Many of today’s Heathens are deeply engaged with scholarship and literature. Some have earned advanced academic degrees and have created their own scholarly works; others have moved from reading the old literature to creating new Heathen poetry and story.

For a college student who wants to dive into the subject, I would suggest this reading list. In an ideal world, I would ask you to read all of them in this given order. In a realistic world, I would ask you to read the descriptions and start with the one that seems most relevant to your own interests.

Mythology

Edda by Snorri Sturluson, translated by Anthony Faulkes
We owe a great deal to the Icelander Snorri Sturluson for his work preserving Norse mythology. This book is the primary source for most of the myths you find retold by later authors. It’s important to keep in mind that Snorri was a Christian writing more than two hundred years after the official conversion of Iceland and that elements of Christian worldview creep into his book. It’s also key to remember that this is not a holy book or bible of Heathenry, but rather an instructional work for poets of his time that teaches the major myths as part of Iceland’s literary heritage.

A manuscript of Snorri Sturluson's Edda
Iceland, 18th century

The Poetic Edda translated by Carolyne Larrington
Written down in the thirteenth century, these poems were preserved orally from the pagan era in Iceland. They tell of gods and goddesses, dwarves and dragons, heroes and Valkyries. You will read the great Prophecy of the Seeress that tells of the creation of the world and its dissolution at Ragnarök, and you will enjoy the Sayings of the High One, in which Odin shares his wisdom, tells of his experiences, and speaks of runes and magic. I suggest reading this after Snorri’s Edda, since the poems are quite dense and can be somewhat mystifying without having first having read Snorri’s more straightforward prose accounts.

Historical Heathenry

Gods and Myths of Northern Europe by H.R. Ellis Davidson
Although it was first published in 1964, this is still my favorite introduction to Norse mythology, religion, and culture. Davidson introduces us to each of the major deities in detail as she discusses not merely literature, but archaeology, theology, history, place-name analysis, visual arts, and more in a virtuosic work that is very accessible to the casual reader. I have repeatedly assigned this as a required textbook for my own courses on mythology and religion.

Simek's Dictionary of Northern Mythology

A Dictionary of Northern Mythology by Rudolf Simek
Translated from the German, this brilliant work is really more of an encyclopedia than a dictionary. Simek’s 1992 preface to the English edition explains the breadth of this wonderful work, stating that

an English audience will associate most of the material presented in [the book] with the northern mythology of the Eddas and sagas of medieval Scandinavia. The scope of the book is, however, wider than that: the mythology and religion of all Germanic tribes – Scandinavians as well as Goths or Angles and Saxons – have been dealt with insofar as they are Germanic in origin; hence, of the English mythology of heathen times, the religion imported by the Germanic tribes is included, but not that of the older Celtic population.

Many Heathens today (myself included) have an expansive sense of the historical background of the modern religions. We look to not only Icelandic sources, but to those from England, Denmark, Germany, and elsewhere. Simek’s work is beloved by many of us for both its inclusion of a wide range of material and its insightful drawing of connections between diverse sources.

Modern Heathenry

A Practical Heathen’s Guide to Asatru by Patricia M. Lafayllve
There are many books available in what is often called the “Ásatrú 101” category. Written by practitioners, they usually give a brief overview of Heathen history and mythology, introduce the deities and wights (land-spirits), explain theological constructs, and describe the general rituals and celebrations performed today. Lafayllve’s book provides all of this in a clear and concise format, is recent enough (2013) to represent current ideas held by the average Heathen (if there is such a thing), and is both widely available and affordable. It’s a good entry point into the modern traditions, but remember that this is only one of the many perspectives in today’s Ásatrú and Heathenry.

Jennifer Snook's American Heathens

American Heathens: The Politics of Identity in a Pagan Religious Movement by Jennifer Snook
This is the first peer-reviewed academic book on American Heathens written by an American Heathen, and it is also the first long-term professional ethnographic study of the subject in the field of sociology. Published last year, it combines an insider perspective with a scholarly approach. Snook investigates such issues as the interaction of Heathenry and Wicca, the relationship between religious experience and academic research, the use of the internet to build (or tear down) communities, the many roles of women, and the place of ethnicity and heritage. You can introduce yourself to Snook’s work by reading my three-part interview with her here.

To be continued in Part Two.