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SYNCRETICISM HAPPENS!
by Phillupus Many modern people are used to certain hyphenated terms which refer to cultural or religious realities. The term "Graeco-Roman," for example, is certainly something which is taken to be a monolithic and definite fusion of cultural constructs; and in a religious context, the term tends to mean that the Romans simply gave Latin names to Greek deities. This is, of course, far from the truth, and a view which is lacking in nuance, yet nonetheless it remains a cultural stereotype which has been exploited to various degrees--quite hilarious by Eddie Izzard, for example, when he said that the Romans had to steal the Greek deities because the Roman deities were rather boring, like Geoff the god of biscuits. (If the grain goddess Ceres had a son called Geoff, he very likely also had a warrior aspect, if nothing else, if the ancient Roman agricultural god known as Mars is anything to go by!) People who are trying to be inclusive and to some degree politically correct also often use the term "Judeo-Christian," when what is really meant is "Christian." Christianity was a religion which freely syncretized (or, perhaps, re-interpreted or even [mis-] appropriated) a number of religious influences and elements into its subsequent dogmatic and liturgical structure, among them Judaism; it becomes quite apparent when one studies the Judaism of the post-Second Temple period that it is quite different in almost every respect from mainstream Christianity, and that pre-rabbinic Judaism and tribal Hebraic religion were further independent theological entities altogether. Despite what its adherents might assert, Christianity has very little in common with Judaism in most respects, and the insistent monotheism of Christianity does not bear much resemblance to the henotheism which is enshrined in much of the Hebrew scriptures, and which persists in the practices of many Jewish people. In
general, modern
people are comfortable with certain concepts of cultural or religious
hybridization, while others seem strange or antithetical to them. Thus,
there is a
difficulty which modern pagans who identify as "Graeco-Egyptian"
often encounter, which is often a greater obstacle for other pagans to
surmount
than it is for non-pagans to accept. While Wicca. as founded by Gerald
Gardner,
is a syncretistic and consciously constructed religion on its own, some
practitioners are more insistent on strict adherence to its practical
and
theological guidelines than others. As time goes on, and as the
neopagan
population and movement has become more visible and has had greater
numbers of
practitioners within it, a debate and a dichotomy of methodology has
emerged:
some people prefer more stringent and assiduous following of
established
parameters of tradition, while others take a more piecemeal approach.
The
latter methodology has often been derided as "shopping cart" religion
(in Roman Catholic circles, such spiritual eclecticism has been called
"cafeteria Catholicism"), and has been characterized as
"fluffy" and naive, while those who are proponents of this attitude
towards practice call it "eclectic." Indeed, the postmodern
influences of chaos magic have also had their influence on religious
and
devotional practice in neopaganism, and "anything which works"
deity-wise and culturally is considered permissible. If such a practice
is
fulfilling and productive for those who choose to utilize it, then
there is
nothing wrong with it, as ultimately some benefit to the lives of
practitioners
of any magical tradition and all religions should accrue. However,
those of a
more traditional bent are often upset because of the unthinking
credulity which
often accompanies the more eclectic methodologies, as well as the fears
of
cultural appropriation and possible conflict and offense among one's
spiritual
and deific associates which seem to be ignored by some more
well-informed
eclectics. Those more conservative (in the best sense) elements in
neopagan
traditions advocate keeping as close to their acquired or inherited
traditions
as possible, and to keeping actions in the cultus of diverse deities or
pantheons
carefully separate so as not to transgress culturally specific
boundaries. Some
of the enforcements of these more conservative traditionalist
practices,
however, can veer too far in the direction of "cultural purity," to
the exclusion, and even denigration, of the practices of other
pantheons, and
to those who would seek to have multiple cultural affiliations. Neither
side of
this rather dualistic debate is wholly free from excess. And
yet, the world
in which we currently live is the most diverse and rapidly changing
that has
perhaps ever been in existence on Earth previously. A fifth grader who
can
spell and type in 2008 now has, with a high-speed internet connection,
unprecedented access to the religious wisdom of the ages and of many
more
cultures and sub-traditions than did the most learned scholar of
Alexandria,
with all of its great library's books, at its height, when even the
furthest
reaches of Europe (Scandinavia and Ireland, for example) were largely
unknown.
(Though, in fairness, so much has been lost from the ancient world that
our
knowledge, no matter how extensive, will never be complete; and the
fifth
grader will see just as much dross and nonsense in a search for
information on
any particular religion over the internet than they are likely to see
of
genuine and verifiable fact and useful information.) In the United
States,
Canada, Australia, and Britain (to name only the predominantly
English-speaking
countries), any given citizen is likely to be of a number of possible
ethnic
and cultural stocks, whether all European or otherwise. Immigrants to
the U.S.
were often fleeing religious persecution in some form, so having an
unknown or
unrealized Jewish ancestor is not uncommon; and for non-Europeans,
having
relatives who still do or until recently practiced some form of
non-exclusive
non-monotheistic religion is all the more likely. And even if one were,
strictly speaking, "English," then any number of cultural influences
have constituted that identity, from native Brythonic (i.e. Insular
Celtic) to
Anglo-Saxon-Jutish, to Norse and Danish or Norman and Flemish (all
mostly
Germanic) cultural strata, and yet all are now considered "English"
to some extent. In such a world as this, it seems almost ludicrous for
people
to have narrow and exclusive ideas about what ancestral pre-Christian
traditions one might have a right to, or to which one must submit to
the
elimination of all others. Within
the more
traditionally minded lineages of neopaganism, there is a movement known
as
reconstructionism, which has sought to take ancient sources as the
primary
constituents of its religious practice and theology. In the 1970s,
groups of
reconstructionists began to emerge devoted to Germanic traditions (e.g.
Asatru)
as well as Greek, Roman, and Egyptian ancient religions; in the 1980s,
Celtic
reconstructionist groups and individuals also began to work. In these
groups,
there was often no need to resort to the myth of a grandparent having
been heir
to a secret transmitted body of lore for legitimacy of one's tradition,
nor to
the various arguments of different "druidic" organizations to having
an ancient and venerable tradition (since most of these go back no
further than
the creative and romantic ideals of the late eighteenth century).
Instead,
going to the library, learning an ancient language, and fully
integrating the
materials through ritual practice, meditation, and other active forms
of
spiritual pursuit is seen as merit-worthy in itself. The above named
cultural
reconstructionist traditions, as well as further ones, have had many
groups,
factions, and (as the Irish used to call them) "faction fights"
amongst themselves, with charismatic as well as crazed individuals and
unique
characters among their ranks, and yet they have all also produced
living, valid
and honorable forms of spiritual conduct which have had nearly a
generation to
come into their own. What these traditions might lack in terms of
length of
existence or strength in numbers of adherents, they more than
compensate for in
the quality of work which has been produced. However,
for a
number of reasons, those who are interested in specific cultural
reconstructionist traditions often find themselves being intrigued by
and drawn
into several such traditions rather quickly. Many Kemetic practitioners
find
themselves suddenly drawn to the Norse deities; a Celtic
reconstructionist
might also be involved in an Afro-Carribean religion; a Hellenic
practitioner
may be thwapped (as is the technical term) unexpectedly by a Hindu
deity. The
possibilities are endless, and the number of dual-trad or
"multi-culti" reconstructionists increases constantly. How does one
explain this? How can the flight from and aversion to unthinking
eclecticism
lead to a mixing of pantheons and cultural traditions more diverse and
possibly
discordant than one might have imagined possible when first exposed to
generalized Wicca and neopaganism? There are (at least) two
possibilities which
readily occur: one is a supernatural explanation, and one is a
scholastic one. From
the viewpoint that
the gods are real and do exist and act independently, and that humans
can and
do have relationships with them, one possible answer presents itself.
If a
person shows great dedication to a particular deity and the spiritual
path
which such dedication necessitates, then that individual devotee might
get a
"reputation," as it were, for being a fervent adherent to a deity
amongst the various spiritual powers. (This situation assumes that the
deities,
with fewer restraints of physical geography and linguistic boundaries,
communicate as freely and easily as a modern person is able to over the
internet--if someone today can be in Wyoming and have an instant
message
conversation with someone in New Zealand and Zimbabwe, for example, it
seems
reasonable to assume that Odin's raven Munin could carry a message to
Hermes,
Amaterasu, and Coyote with a few flaps of his feathers.) Thus, other
deities
seeking devotees to do their work for them on Earth might begin
soliciting
their services, like divine headhunters (not in the literal,
cannibalistic
sense, but in the modern business sense!) searching for the perfect
practitioner for the pious purposes they might wish to see completed.
This is
something that is commonly attested amongst practitioners of these
forms of paganism:
the spirits and deities are likely to contact those who have a
reputation for
listening to and following through on such communications--time, space,
and
culture notwithstanding. The
more agnostic
and academic viewpoint, however, has an answer that might lack in
color,
conviction and intrigue, but which just as easily explains why this
phenomenon
might occur. It is readily apparent to anyone who has properly and
thoroughly
studied any ancient religion (or any religion, for that matter) that
none of
them existed in a vacuum, and that they were influenced by and in turn
influenced the cultures around them to a great degree. No religion has
existed
throughout its history without changing and adapting to the realities
of new
cultural contacts through trade, expansion of territory and
colonization, wars,
uprisings and changes in the dominant political regimes, disasters
(natural and
biological) like plagues, droughts, tidal waves, volcanoes and
earthquakes, and
improvements in transportational and informational technology--to only
name a
few such possibilities. Ancient Minoan religion was highly influenced
by the
religion of Egypt; the ancient tribal Hebrews were in contact with
their
neighbors in Sumeria and Babylonia, Egypt, and Canaan; Neolithic
Ireland had
regular trade access to both the continent and Britain, and in the
Bronze Age,
even North Africa; the Germanic and Continental Celtic peoples were in
constant
proximity; and the list goes on. The influence of the Near East on
Greek
religion at various stages is quite apparent, and the contribution of
almost
every culture which the Romans encountered (in war or peace) is marked
on the
temples and deity epithets of the old Latin gods as they survived in
the
Eternal City itself. Were it not for Greek and Roman influence, no
Gaulish or
British deity-names would now be known and recoverable to us--so no
matter how
much so-called "Celtic traditionalists" of various kinds might resent
"Rome" and its imperializing conquerors, were it not for the
colonists of Massilia, Julius Caesar and Claudius and Hadrian, and many
other
such figures, the names of hundreds of deities would have been
unknowable
(other than through the uncertain practice of linguistic
reconstruction). Any
notion of "authentic cultural purity" is necessarily a notion that is
entirely false, a pedantic fantasy no doubt built upon the fact that
certain
monotheistic proselytizing religions, despite being excellent at
syncretism
themselves, made syncretism a sin (in the case of Islam, one of the
highest and
most grave sins). Thus, a notion not native to the polytheistic
viewpoint has
been read into it because the prevalent religions of the modern world
have
defined religion in ways which exclude the possibility of other
"truths" being existent, much less desirable or with which one might
decide to have a fruitful affiliation. When
taking all of
these possible influences into account, the emergence of the
Hellenistic
culture under Alexander the Great and his Ptolemaic successors in Egypt
and the
wider Hellenistic Empire, as well as its continuation after the battle
of
Actium under the Romans through to the end of the fourth century (and,
in some
cases, beyond), which resulted in what could be termed
"Graeco-Egyptian" and "Graeco-Roman-Egyptian" syncretism is
not only a reality which must be acknowledged, but a situation that is
predictable and even expectable, but no less extraordinary, varied, and
impressive for that. Rather than viewing this attempt to create a
unified and
respectful culture that integrated all possible religious systems into
a
workable (though not by necessity coherent or internally consistent)
totality
was an attempt to create peace and harmony and to combine the
advantages and
blessings of a plethora of spiritual influences and deities toward the
common
good of society. When this continued, through the phenomena first of interpretatio Graeca and subsequently interpretatio
Romana, instead of viewing these methodologies of
cultural-religious
contact as a hegemonic and imperialistic strategy of appropriation and
subjugation (as some scholars as well as reconstructionist
practitioners seem
to), instead these approaches could be viewed as genuine human and
institutional responses attempting to understand and create a vector of
encounter with unfamiliar and foreign ideas--even if the results are
(to use an
anthropological commonplace) an etic rather than an emic presentation
of what
the other religion and culture is like. The willingness to assume that
there is
a reality and a truth in the other's viewpoint, no matter how
perfunctory or
even shallow that assumption might have been in certain cases, is an
assumption
that would in fact benefit many modern people seeking to understand the
religions of others, and in fact doing so would most likely benefit the
relationships between the major world religions today, as well as the
interactions between some of the different sects of those religions,
and even
the varying viewpoints which individual members of religious
communities might
hold in relation to their group's prevailing notions. While some
ancient
philosophers might have disagreed and even debated one another about
the nature
of the gods and of reality, or to have shunned particular unappealing
practices, it is difficult to imagine that a Pythagorean would ever say
that
one can kill any gymnosophist in cold blood because of their lack of
genuine
faith, or that a Platonist might opine that all Orphics are damned in
the
afterlife. Even a Roman flamen, a
priest dedicated in their
service to one particular ancient collegium of functionaries of an old
Latin
deity, would not have disdained making offerings to other deities when
the
occasion demanded it or their own interest suggested doing so. The idea
of
cultic exclusivity is very much a symptom which accompanies theological
viewpoints which suggest that truth, deity, and devotion are unitary
with one's
submission to dogma and to an external and generally institutional
interpretive
authority. When
the Greeks and
Romans arrived in other lands, they took their notions of land-spirits
(in
Latin, genius loci, "spirits of
place") with them.
While the people of Britain's gods were perhaps unknown and not well
disposed
towards these incursions, the spirits of the land and the invader's own
ancestors could still be usefully propitiated and given cultus. However
one
approaches this, whether one sees it as religious imperialism and a
foreign
overlay on native traditions, or whether this is simply one culture's
way of
interacting with the very real forces of nature in lands perhaps
foreign but
nonetheless teeming with spiritual presence, this is a reality for
which all
modern neopagans should seek to account. While a person of primarily
European
stock might not feel comfortable, nor be welcome to, honor the spirits
of their
Australian or American birthplace in ways traditional to the indigenous
peoples
of that area, they certainly can acknowledge them in ways which are
attested in
previous European cultures. Polytheism and animism tend to go
hand-in-hand, and
thus there is a natural affinity with individuals and cultures with
similar
theological viewpoints, even when their original cultures are at wide
variance.
A Hellene who does cultus to the nymphai
would find great solace
in and similarity to a Shinto practitioner and their honoring of the kami, for example. With
the persistent
contacts between and colonization by Greece and Rome in Egypt, a mutual
understanding and gradual adoption of hybrid practices eventually
developed,
and endured for generations. If asked what this practice entailed or
from
whence it came and how such an ancient practitioner would have
identified it,
it is very likely that a totally quizzical and even absurdist reaction
would
result--"What do you mean? This is just what
we do!"
While nearly two millennia of distance and separation--temporally,
culturally,
linguistically, and religiously--causes modern people the necessity of
identifying this type of practice as "Graeco-Egyptian," it would be
obvious that in the future, if this particular form of neopagan
reconstructionist syncretism were examined, it might have to be further
modified in its identification to "American (or Australian, etc.)
Graeco-Egyptian religion." One can speculate on the future of this
movement and its perceptions in a variety of ways, but it would be far
more
useful to simply engage in the practices and see how one's own physical
situation and previous spiritual experience best adapts to, assimilates
and
interprets this particular religious stream. But, there is a further fascinating dimension to all of this, to which theologians in more mainstream religions have had great interest in the last century. It is difficult to imagine, if the original Hermes might have been abstracted from the cairns and herms which the Greeks set up as boundary-markers, that eventually Hermes would assume all of the forms he did simply within the Greek cultural spheres. It is even more fascinating that he underwent the further changes he did as a result of continuing close contact between Egypt and the Hellenistic world. The chthonic and psychopompic aspects of Hermes eventually fused with the Egyptian Anubis to form Hermanubis. Hermes as the inventor of writing became merged with the Egyptian divine scribe Thoth to become Hermes Trismegistus, and to become a renowned wisdom figure at the fountainhead of Hermetic philosophy and theology, influential well into the Christian period and beyond. And, in at least one case, Hermes even became fused with one of the other Greek deities in an Egyptian context, in the form of Hermekate--perhaps a non-dualistically gendered guardian of the crossroads, if nothing else. While these syncretisms are certainly predictable and even expectable given the realities of cultural contacts in the past, and the rather archetypalizing tendencies of much post-Platonic Greek thought, nonetheless this puts forward the theological proposition that the gods are as changeable as the humans and the cultures who revere them. If divine reality is as prone to evolution and transformation as much as the wider universe seems to be in a state of flux, then these two realities are in fact much more unified and influential on one another than many may have realized. In Christian circles, this is known as "process theology," and is reflected in ideas like the panentheistic presence of the divine, and yet the divine not being omnipotent. While it took until the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries for the beginnings of this theological stream to be known in these mainline religious circles, one can look back to the days of late antiquity in Egypt and see that this, too, was not a new thing. If the piles of stones that were once synonymous with Hermes have since given way, via Hermes Trismegistus and his heirs, to the very fine technologies of electronic information storage in silicon-based machines (and what is silicon if not very small stones of that element?), then Hermes of the Internet is a reality now which the ancients never would have imagined. Humans have come a long way since late antiquity; and so too have the gods, and it will be so as long as humans are aware of the gods. |