#basic assumptions

[promethiae]

So I'm having this quandary. (insert long story here) and my mom's reply [to the guy saying "have a blessed day"] was, "see, that's why I didn't want you around i [sic] don't like Christian...stuff"

Now I, personally, have no problem with people saying bless you, or have a blessed day, or merry Christmas, or happy Easter, or whatever. Maybe it's the years of customer service, but I just smile and say thank you, and since my teenage hormone-fueled rage has calmed down I really do mean it when I say thank you. To me, they're telling me that they hope the best for me and I appreciate that.

But the issue of one is assumption. It may not be as damaging as someone assuming pronouns or race or orientation, but there still is the assumption that everyone they meet is christian. And if I just smile and say thank you, am I then reinforcing their assumptions? I want people to challenge my assumptions, to challenge my thought processes, and shouldn't I do the same to others? Is there a polite way to say "I appreciate the thought, but I'm not christian?" 

There's this issue of not minding the very nice gesture, but the gesture in itself is problematic because it furthers the idea that every American that isn't wearing some sort of expressly religious garment is a Christian and that...that's not good either. So what do we do, Tumblr? 

[neverendingjackson]

So apparently everyone on tumblr self-actualises

[gallatheology-blog]

Basic assumptions #2: Positionality

Today is my second post in the “basic assumptions” series—doing some groundwork before moving on to the meat of the blog. After all, it's important to lay out what will undergird this work.

So today I'm looking at positionality.

If there's an objective “view from nowhere” somewhere, I haven't found it. When I look at something, I relate to it in a particular way. Naming the components of this perspective—my perspective—lets both you and me understand what I say in context. It won't be someone else's context; it'll be mine.

So I'm denying all claims of objectivity. After all, what's often considered a “generic” point of view is in fact simply the view of the most powerful groups (in theology, this is Christian or at least Abrahamic monotheism). Part of what makes minoritized voices minoritized is the burden of specificity—in politics, why are “women's issues” a special-interest concern? Don't other people also have genders?

So, I don't present this as a “view from nowhere.” It's a view from here—and here's where I am in terms of my life experience, philosophical commitments, and position and agenda within Paganism.

Who am I?

As a trans woman, I am confronted with androcentrism and male chauvinism on the one hand, and on the other a hostile imperative to account for my existence (let alone legitimacy). Here, I won't ever put men at the center. I won't ever construct cisness as normal and natural and transness as deviant and artificial. Given that feminism and transfeminism will be assumed, this will be “feminism 101” no more than it will be “Paganism 101.” I'm here to do theology, not explain basic sociopolitical concepts.

Conversely, I'll have to prioritize interrogating my whiteness and middle-class background . Sometimes I'll mess up. Modern Pagans and polytheists are often troubled around race in particular—and that's true not just of explicitly “folkish” or racist polytheists, but of our subculture more broadly. So I hope not to lose sight of that here.

What do I believe?

Philosophically, my trans/feminism and rejection of epistemic absolutism are part and parcel of a broader politicized worldview. I don't pretend to believe in neutrality—my leftist position opposes most “existing social conditions.” I won't give weight to ideas or institutions simply because they're dominant. This isn't an advocacy blog as such, but neither will it falsely compartmentalize theological, social, and political concerns.

Where am I coming from as a Pagan?

I'm a polytheist, not a monist or duotheist. The nature of that polytheism will be explored in this blog, of course, but I treat the Gods as plural and not synonymous with myself. In terms of my particular tradition, I'm a galla vowed to Cybele, so naturally my stuff is in line with some ideas of Paganism more than others.

Additionally, this isn't a devotional or intro-to-Paganism blog. I'm here to analyze our structures of belief and understanding in a disciplined, informed, rigorous way; in other words, to do theology.

Finally, I present nothing here as the last word (or even necessarily my last word) on anything. This is an ongoing, open process of exploration and inquiry, in the spirit of investigating questions more than answering them. Feel free to take as many grains of salt as you deem necessary, and share them with me! Any good-faith response is more than welcome.

Next installment in the series: pluralism!

[gallatheology-blog]

Basic assumptions #1: Experience

All right, so I'm starting this out with a series of posts explaining a few fundamentals. It's important to acknowledge what you assume. So, over the next few days, each post (in no particular order) will talk about something this blog will take as a given.

Today's topic: “experience.”

I'm not starting from texts, declarations from authoritative persons, or any pre-theorized metaphysics. Instead, I begin with extra-ordinary moments of encounter between practitioners and our divinities—what are often (not necessarily usefully, but that's another topic) termed “mystical experiences.” These I recognize as a valid way of knowing, and normative for the theology done here. Generally lacking creeds or broadly-accepted holy books, our religions tend to place a premium on moments like that. I see such experiences as probably the only valid epistemic basis for Pagan theology, and my ideas will both derive from them and be held to their standard.

If there's no specific, compelling reason to dismiss someone's human-divine encounter, I assume it's valid.

That said—there's a vital point here. When you have these moments, you usually draw conclusions about the world based on them. That's OK and inevitable—however, I do not automatically assume the validity of these inferences.

For example, my senior thesis focused on a Hindu guru, Swami Muktananda, who toured the world administering shaktipat to thousands of people. Shaktipat is a type of initiation in which the guru awakens divine energy in the recipient—and those he initiated consistently reported powerful responses. Indeed, many of them subsequently adopted Muktananda as their guru and internalized his worldview. Thus, from an experience (shaktipat), they extrapolated a theology (in this case, Shaiva Hinduism).

This blog would approach Muktananda's initiates assuming that the shaktipat experiences were valid extra-ordinary spiritual moments. Would that require me to agree with Shaiva Hindu ideas? I think not—I can disagree with your philosophy even if I recognize that you went through something real. So, my analysis of someone's experiences might not match theirs. Global conclusions can be mistaken, even if they seem supported by individual experiences, and as such they're fair game for analysis. Bear in mind, though—in these discussions, I'm certainly not going to talk about any specific individual without her express permission. That's basic ethics, so I'm just making it totally clear at the outset.

So, to sum up, I'm assuming the legitimacy of spiritual encounters, but not necessarily the philosophical takeaway. I appreciate all respectful discussion or debate, and remember—my stuff is just as up for questioning and critique as anyone else's! I welcome all good-faith responses.

Next up: another “basic assumptions” post, concerning positionality. Specifically, what mine looks like, and what I'm going to do with it.