The Path: Musings on Eclectic Panentheism and Faith

I've been having an interesting discussion with someone who contacted me out of the blue after seeing my profile on a Pagan site (which I'd completely forgotten about, naturally). He's a Buddhist and a seeker; currently non-religious, if I'm reading his tone right, but with a Christian background. He's also curious about other people's religions -- what they believe, and why. Lately it sounds like he's been talking to people of varying Pagan bents about their paths, and asked me to explain mine: eclectic panentheism.

I don't think it's a concept I articulate very well to other people, unfortunately, so this was a good excuse to ponder the meaning of it all. I first came across the word "panentheism" (as opposed to panthesim) in Pagans & Christians: The Personal Spiritual Experience by Gus diZerega. A few years ago, I'd read that and Michael York's Pagan Theology: Paganism as a World Religion in the hope that I'd find some clues that would allow me to talk to my mother about religion again -- no luck in that, but they did cause me to re-evaluate and re-define my own path, so I consider it a win.

Here's the gist of my original reply, tweaked slightly after some rethinking.

Panentheism, as I understand it, is the concept that the Divine is both immanent (pervasive within the material world) and transcendant (above/apart from the material world) at the same time. Which sounds contradictory, but ... take this example. I look around and see a beautiful lake, surrounded by trees and rocks and ducks. The wind blows, clouds dance across the sky, and the sun beams down on me and five of my closest friends. As a Pagan, I see my gods and goddesses as the core of being within all of these things. Sometimes I may think of that infusion as Spirit; other times, just the subatomic attraction that holds molecules together. For all I know -- or care, honestly -- they're the same; in any case, that connection is a thread of the Divine; the common element that runs through everything in creation. It is the gods, inherent within nature.

At the same time, I also pray; when I pray, I'm not addressing my prayers to that common binding thread that runs through the lake and the tree, but to specific deities who are individual faces of the Divine. They have personalities, and duties, and power to shape this world. We learn from their stories just as we learn to respect the forces they represent. Oya may be the storm crashing down on me, but she's also the wife of Chango, and a mother, and a psychopomp, and so on.

I think the concept is pretty familiar to most Pagans, it's just that, for the most part, we understand it intuitively without bothering to pin it down and define it in theological terms.

There's a dearth of scholarly writings on modern Paganism, as far as I can tell, but that's slowly changing under the guidance of writers like diZerega and York (both on the faculty now at Cherry Hill Seminary), Chas Clifton, and a handful of other names and publishing houses (e.g., AltaMira) that escape me due to the vagaries of this allergy-med fugue. For me, that's a welcome change from the over-abundance of books on witchy spell recipes, dream interpretation, past lives, crystals and astrology that currently make up 90% of any given bookstore's "metaphysics" section. I still rely on the anthropology and sociology shelves for most of my purchases, since I'm more interested in the history and mystery of Paganism (ancient and modern) than in recreating someone else's ritual. 'Cause honestly, let's face it -- how many stores actually include Paganism in their Theology section?

In any case... As mentioned above, it was diZerega's book that initially helped me re-evaluate and better understand my own approach to spirituality, as well as the approaches of others -- for example, how panentheism differs from pantheism, polytheism, etc. I suspect the distinctions are largely of interest to scholars and geeks, but it seems reasonable that anyone who follows a particular philosophical or religious path should take the time to think through the whys and hows of their beliefs and practices. Not only for the purpose of intelligent discussion, but also for your own personal understanding. Faith is an intensely personal aspect of a person's worldview-- or at least, it should be, in my opinion. I still can't help but cringe inwardly when it appears to be an excuse for lemming behavior or willful ignorance.

Mind you, I know I don't have all the answers -- and neither does anyone else, as far as I can tell. But faith, to me, does not mean you check your brain at the door. It should not be blind, nor should it be unyielding. What it should be: an evolving understanding, tempered by experience, evidence (when available), perspective, and a willingness to question and re-evaluate.