Pagan Power

By William Kenny
Times Staff Writer

One might have expected to find a crew of smelly, unshaven, leather- and denim-wearing Harley-Davidson motorcycle riders there.
Or perhaps a bunch of lunatics dancing around with animal carcasses and screaming in tongues.
Either way, the seventh annual Delaware Valley Pagan Network Summer Social probably wouldn’t have sounded very inviting to most folks. After all, the common preconception of a pagan isn’t of a thoughtful, educated, spiritual and perhaps idealistic nature lover.
But the perversion of the definition of the term, which for millennia has been used to describe their kind, is just one of many obstacles confronting modern-day pagans.
Righting those widely held misconceptions is a primary objective of the DVPN, an umbrella group for so-called "neo-pagans" throughout the region who practice a myriad of polytheistic, nature-based faiths or "paths" derived largely from ancient religions.
Last month, dozens of pagans gathered in a picnic area at Fort Washington State Park for the Summer Social, where they exchanged thoughts about their lifestyles, showed off arts and crafts, shared in a spiritual ceremony or two and, mainly, socialized much like humans of any other religions would.
They even wore T-shirts, tank tops, shorts, skirts, sneakers and sandals. And some had baseball caps, too.
"Our catch phrase is, ‘Building a nurturous community,’" said Franklin Evans, president of the DVPN and a self-described "high priest" who avoids defining his beliefs, except to say they’re based on the "Gaia concept" of "the planet as an organism."
"Pagans have been scattered and diverse. Our purpose is for anyone who defines (himself) as a pagan to be able to connect with other pagans," Evans said.
oo
In keeping with their rejection of labels, DVPN leaders don’t like to say what is and what is not a pagan.
Webster’s dictionary defines a pagan as "a follower of a polytheistic religion (as in ancient Rome)." The DVPN enthusiastically lists how many of its members define themselves, however.
The network claims as many as 200 individual members and reports more than 30 known "working groups" in the region.
Most of those groups practice Wicca, a relatively recent addition to the spectrum of pagan religions, created in the 1940s by an Englishman named Gerald Gardner. There are several Wiccan sects. Most practitioners (male and female) call themselves witches and worship gods and goddesses from a variety of ancient religions.
Druidism was founded in 17th-century Britain and is based on ancient Celtic beliefs, while Reconstructionism is an attempt to replicate closely with historical documentation an ancient religion such as those practiced by the Norse, Celts, Greeks, Romans or Egyptians.
Modern-day indigenous traditions, such as those practiced by Native Americans and Australian Aborigines, can be considered pagan, as can African and Afro-Caribbean traditions like Vodoun (commonly referred to as voodoo) or Santeria.
Yet other pagans define what they practice as Shamanism, Witchcraft or Eclecticism, the last of which borrows traditions from many different sources to form a single practice.
Rather than enforce conformity, many pagans celebrate the diversity of their beliefs and their unique individual relationships with their surroundings.
Penny Watkins and Jen Prince are co-founders of a Jenkintown-based group, or "coven," named the Red Crescent Path.
According to Prince, the crescent represents the moon, which members consider the "goddess," a feminine higher power and counterpart to the male sun, or the "god."
"The fact that we’re all on our own spiritual path is the ‘path,’ and the ‘red’ is strength and power," Watkins said.
When asked why she chose to join the Red Crescent Path, Veronica, who asked that her last name not be published, explained, "It chooses us."
"When people are spiritual and they don’t find satisfaction within other organized religions, everyone goes toward what feels right for them," Watkins said.
oo
Kate Murray, a recent addition to the coven, says she began investigating paganism and witchcraft without urging from or the support of an organized group. Rather, she explored in virtual isolation, but followed her instincts.
"In the beginning, I didn’t know anybody. It was just studying on my own and finding my own path," Murray said. "I had no friends that were involved or interested. A couple of them looked into it like a fad thing, then got out. (To me) it felt right."
Pagan religions aren’t generally based on a single text, such as the Bible or Torah, or a stated dogma, but most have a plethora of traditional and modern resources, such as historical and philosophical books and Internet publications.
"I was experimenting, learning what I liked and what I didn’t like," Murray said. "It required a lot of learning to get really deep into it. It’s a lifelong process."
Though based largely on Wicca, Red Crescent Path members consider themselves eclectic, with influences ranging from Native American to Shaman to Buddhism.
"It encompasses most polytheistic religions," Watkins said.
"We learn about different gods and goddesses," Prince said. "Different elements go into the practice of witchcraft."
The group works on a religious calendar mirroring the seasons and cycles of nature — the solstices and equinoxes and the "cross-quarter" days that mark the middle of each season. They also celebrate the phases of the moon and the physical cycles experienced by all humans, such as sleep or reproduction.
"We call it the wheel," Watkins said.
Rituals within individual covens or groups often are closely guarded, much like the rituals practiced by lodges, college fraternities and sororities or secret societies.
A more generic ritual that the Red Crescent Path organized for the recent DVPN social asked participants to gather in a circle in a clearing of some woods, pay homage to a series of gods — each represented by a lit candle — meditate and share some information or insight.
Burning incense helped set the mood.
oo
Many pagan rituals are designed to encourage participants to tap into a subconscious state and, in doing so, to learn something about themselves as well as the world around them. A key part of any ritual, however, is a safe return to the here and now.
"We’re inviting you to experience the energy we’re creating at that moment," said Evans, the DVPN president. "We give them a full circle of experience, then we bring them back to where they started, hopefully a little better (than they were)."
Many groups practice what they call magic, and they believe in it. But it has nothing to do with Houdini, David Copperfield, card tricks or a lounge act.
"My view on magic is that you have an intention, you have a goal you want to accomplish. You raise that energy and send it out into the universe," said Brian Cassidy, a Red Crescent Path member.
Prince, the group’s co-founder, said it’s basically a matter of faith. "Part of the way magic works is you do believe that it’s going to happen," she said.
The goal could be material in nature or to effect a psychological or emotional state. Prince has yet to get a broomstick airborne, however.
"I sure do wish I could fly on a broom. That would be great," she said.
The concept of magic is largely why pagans have been persecuted for so long. Since the birth of monotheism thousands of years ago, outsiders have portrayed them as devil-worshipers, savages, murderers or worse.
For example, Puritan hysteria led to the execution of 20 alleged witches and the imprisonment of many more in Salem, Mass., in the 1690s.
Evans and fellow DVPN board member Morgan Beard insist that pagans aren’t out to harness evil, slaughter animals or sacrifice virgins.
"Most groups have ethical codes, ethical restrictions against committing any kind of felony," Beard said.
"Felony crime in pagan ritual religiously is a myth," Evans added.
Certain individuals or groups may not have gotten that memo, however, as each follows their own path and may not participate in the broader pagan community.
For example, in July 2002, attendants at a Frankford gas station found in a Dumpster two trash bags containing the mutilated remains of several dismembered goats and chickens. The bags also contained flowers, coconuts, candles and honey, leading investigators to believe they were left over from a religious ritual.
Similar animal remains have also turned up from time to time in Pennypack and Tacony Creek parks, a police source told the Northeast Times at the time of the Frankford discovery.
Animal sacrifice is most often linked to Afro-Caribbean traditions.
"Every group has members who make a mess," Evans said. "You have the people who will embarrass the group. But if someone wants to take what they read about Santeria, go into the park and leave a mess, I think the Santerians are going to have issue with that."
Some groups "honor the animal’s spirit" by eating its cooked flesh, Evans added. The ritual is only one element of a pagan lifestyle, however.
"It’s not only about rituals," Watkins said. "It’s about getting together, eating, drinking and celebrating life."
oo
Members of her group come from many different walks of life. One is a veterinary nurse, while another is a paralegal and another a mental-health professional.
Cassidy believes that a person’s state of mind is more important than their state of being.
"In order to be an effective pagan or witch or Wiccan, a lot of what makes you succeed in the capacity is knowing yourself," Cassidy said. "You have to be honest with yourself. You have to take down your facades and be who you really are."
At times, they admit, being "who they are" can cause a bit of friction with folks who don’t understand, or don’t want to try to understand, what they’re about.
Some members of the Red Crescent Path, for instance, display pagan symbols as tattoos or jewelry.
"People are confused because our symbol is the pentacle, and that’s associated with Satan," Watkins said. "People are afraid of the association."
"I think it’s more curiosity than suspicion," Prince said.
Quelling suspicions, satisfying curiosity and exercising their freedom of religion is what the DVPN and its members plan to continue to strive to do.
"I think we’ll be successful when you could walk up to anyone on the street, say you’re a witch or a pagan, and be respected," Watkins said. ••
Visit www.dvpn.org for information about the Delaware Valley Pagan Network.
Reporter William Kenny can be reached at 215-354-3031 or bkenny@phillynews.com