Liturgy
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New Carols for an Atheopagan Solstice
One of the things that can be hard about moving away from the Christian Overculture is that there is a lot of beautiful art that can become meaningless to you. Architecture, painting, sculpture, music…so many centuries of accumulated human creativity and effort, all illustrating the myths of Christianity. For many who deconvert from Christianity and other authoritarian religions, these artworks can be intensely triggering, and they don’t want anything to do with them. Others miss aspects of them, like the beauty of music that has…undesirable lyrics. I was never a Christian, so I only know this from hearing the reports of others in the Atheopagan community. But I do find…
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Major Update to the Atheopagan Hymnal
It’s been a long time since updating the Atheopagan Hymnal, which is a collection of songs, poetry, invocations and benedictions for use in Atheopagan rituals and gatherings. This is a major update–I’ve added sheet music to a lot of the songs, and increased the content to nearly 60 pages! Thanks to all the creators of this material, and please be aware that this is distributable for personal and religious purposes only–all rights remain with the creators. Download the Atheopagan Hymnal v.5 here.
- Atheology, Descriptions, Holidays, Liturgy, Practice, Principles, Rites of Passage, Ritual, Techniques
The Atheopaganism Book is Now Available As an Audiobook!
In the two weeks before I started my new job, I realized that I wasn’t going to have an extended run of days in which I could record an audiobook of ATHEOPAGANISM: An Earth-Honoring Path Rooted in Science–a long-planned project–for a long time, and it was the moment! So here it is! You can buy it from all the various outlets except Audible, because Amazon. Click here to purchase from Libro.fm, which donates to local independent bookstores!
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Shush Now
In the beginning was the word, and the word was BOOM. BOOM exploding out from nothing, from the tiniest point And even in those early moments the wild particles colliding, Combining to form elements, molecules, scattering wide in the blank empty script Of possibility. On they went, making compounds, slowly pulling towards one another in disks of Spinning gravity, tightening, tightening until BOOM again: a star turning rotating part of a thousand a million a billion a galaxy BOOM The molecules pouring out, heavy and pregnant until Grinding to lava glow the rough spheres, the gravid disks collapse to make worlds BOOM The comets pounding down with water, with carbon…
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Homily
Sisters and brothersAnd genderqueer others, beloveds:Let us not bow our heads. No, let us not bow our heads. Instead,Let us fling them back, arms stretchedWide to the world, mouths gaping in awe For there–THERE–is the sky. The simple,Miraculous sky, blue or gray by dayDark by night, pale scrim of air That is breath that is rainThat keeps the radiation out.The sky’s wide vault, the Temple of Being Upon this good wide Earth.Gaze upward, knowingThis is what I am, where I live, This is the miracle that is me.Do not despair. Be of stout heart, for surelyThose who live entire lives in a Temple Must be blessed. Know your good fortune.Say…
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Summer
Though weather varies widely across the planet, of course, the traditional meaning of May Day in Europe was “the beginning of Summer”. Thus, the summer solstice was termed “Midsummer”, et cetera. Here in the U.S. the unofficial beginning of summer is a little later, with the passage of Memorial Day at the end of May. Here in the Mediterranean climate of coastal northern California, our hills are now turning from green to gold as the grasses go to seed and turn tawny. It is the signal that summer has truly arrived, and we have days to match: 70s and low 80s, not quite hot enough yet to provoke the fog…
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On the Other Hand…(A Love Letter)
So, I’ve been a little hard on the Pagan community lately. I’ve decried abuses and hierarchies, lack of political engagement, and the leftovers of the sexual culture of the 1960s that still thrive in many corners of it. Those things are true, in my opinion, and I stand by them. So why, one might ask, do I continue to be a part of a community of people who I find so problematic? Well, let me tell you: because it’s wonderful. In all my experience, no cohort of people has ever been so smart, interesting, creative, unique and, by and large, genuinely good-hearted. Weird, yes—but isn’t that just a synonym for creative? Despite blind…
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A Dawn Prayer
Whose warm love flows across the land each day Stirring Life, the world’s magic, arms yearning up, Turning each green leaf to follow. Whose generous balm Upon the skin is love’s touch, ahhhhhh heated fingers soothing, Whose roar boils water from ocean to sky Drawing sweet from salt, becoming rain, snow, river, lake; Whose fervid beat upon us is deadly, and yet Contemplating cold stars how we miss it, the Golden One, quotidian center Of our days, steady companion, sower of treasures great and small: Light-bringer, Life-quickener, dazzling, unbearably bright, Hail, oh hail the magnificent Sun!
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May Morning
With love for all of you, on this the eve of May Day… May Morning Fresh as the day the world was made, This morning: dew-spattered through feather fans Of foxtail and wild rye. Mars is low on the horizon, for once. Still As a caught breath, the day, hushed, Holds for a slow-golding time, the rose hints Of bold and bright to come, of music Yet to be made, dances old as the village, new as tomorrow’s milk. How can it be, four billion, five hundred million years, the old and battered Earth, Veteran of ice and fire, meteor, petroleum, stupidity, avarice, ignorance How can it be, this innocence:…
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The Avalanche–A Poem for January
The avalanche took our home. A wave of ice drove us before it, And everything we thought we had we loaded on our backs And fled, but no luck: the cold fist ground us under. Home. Years. Love. Work. Health. We cried as it passed over us, scraping, Pinned in place, locked in dim blue light: Frozen. The avalanche took our hope. We lay motionless, pockets collapsing about us Stripping away more and more, and we did nothing: Only gazed upward, and mourned, and remembered And night came, and all disappeared But a smear of muted stars. And it wasn’t until the sun returned, and murky light Bathed us in…
