A Brief (A Very Brief) History Of Wicca
Feb. 2nd, 2005 11:27 amReligious movements swiftly go out of date. They begin by challenging the status quo, then, once society has caught up with them, slip into conservatism as they defend their aging insights against the onrush of the new.
Wicca began as a challenge to the mores of the 1950s. It was always a little old-fashioned- with a whiff of geriatric naughtiness- and was soon overtaken by the sexual revolution of the 1960s. It was reinvented in the 70s, by Starhawk and others, as a vehicle for left-wing protest and feminist assertion. Now, unless I'm missing something, there's nothing much left in it except a nostalgia for ye olden dayes.
Charmed is the monument erected over its grave. If the US entertainment industry thinks something is safe for the mainstream, you can be pretty certain it's no longer prancing and kicking.
Wicca began as a challenge to the mores of the 1950s. It was always a little old-fashioned- with a whiff of geriatric naughtiness- and was soon overtaken by the sexual revolution of the 1960s. It was reinvented in the 70s, by Starhawk and others, as a vehicle for left-wing protest and feminist assertion. Now, unless I'm missing something, there's nothing much left in it except a nostalgia for ye olden dayes.
Charmed is the monument erected over its grave. If the US entertainment industry thinks something is safe for the mainstream, you can be pretty certain it's no longer prancing and kicking.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-02 09:52 am (UTC)Okay, you've given me something here: "religion is a personal thing."
Yes. Absolutely.
When people go into bars, there are usually no windows. It's usually dark inside.
The world is shut out so that the mind can loosen itself from the everyday.
Same for going into church: regular glass that looks out onto a parking lot is exchanged for stained glass with pictures of saints. The world is shut out.
There's a difference in bars and churches--there's no ritual in a bar--but, still, we're trying in both to be liberated from everyday thinking. In bars we do this chemically to the brain, and smooth the way to freedom with darkness and atmosphere.
When we go to church, surely we must take some hope for a surprise, for a miracle, in the door with us ("Lord, it is good to be here.")
In short, it's easier to be taken by a miracle in a place that is charged with energy and hope, perhaps, than, say, in the shower at home.
And there is group energy. I have felt it. It is extemely potent. It's partly emotion. It's partly expectation.
Expectation: that's the word. That's what the structure and the words provide. You can go to the Faith Promise Freeway Primitive Baptist Church and experience a miracle. Your life can be changed.
Not because they all handle snakes with reverence, but because YOU "expect a miracle."
Which makes me wonder, all over again: what is a miracle?
no subject
Date: 2005-02-02 10:43 am (UTC)YOu see, I don't agree with you about the inside of a church being charged with energy and hope. I find energy and hope when I stand in a forest surrounded by trees and growing things. I find energy and hope when I stand on the shore of Lake Ontario and watch the water - especially in the surging waves of a windstorm. I found energy and hope when I stood ankle deep in the water, the red sands of Prince Edward Island beneath my feet, and watched the sun come up. I found energy and hope in the pounding waters of Niagara Falls.
Conversely, I found energy and hope when I stood on the farthest up level of the CN Tower, in the dark, and looked out on the city of Toronto below me, the lights scattered like handsful of glitter tossed across the wrinkles of a child's blanket.
See what I mean?
no subject
Date: 2005-02-02 11:52 am (UTC)See what I mean?
Yes. I do see. Lovely imagery, too.
I was following a train of thought about why we set up places apart. For some people, those places aren't necessary.