Spelling it out
What are Paganism and witchcraft today?
Nic Hubbard finds it's a moot point
Candles glitter in glass
holders, the late evening air is heavy with incense smoke and
alcohol is consumed with religious reverence. You'd be
forgiven for thinking that we've stumbled upon a Catholic
communion, but you couldn't be further from the truth. We're
upstairs at The Hobgoblin pub, York Place. Welcome to a
monthly moot of local Pagans.
If you're expecting human
sacrifice and full frontal nudity, forget it. No goats or
Vestal Virgins, although the amount of long hair in the room
makes you think you might be at an Iron Maiden gig.
Instead we're in for an evening
of literary appreciation. Julie, in her fifties and dressed
like an art teacher, is a Druid. She discusses Thomas Hardy's
Return of the Native. She describes how, despite being a
Christian, Hardy displays Pagan tendencies "because he
was brought up in these rural surroundings."
Ask around, and you'll discover
that most become Pagan through this kind of innate connection
with nature. Enquire further and you'll be told Paganism was
the original religion of Britain and Ireland. Witches, who do
cast spells, but in accordance with their belief in doing no
harm, and Druids, priests of a tree based religion, both come
under the umbrella of Paganism, which also includes those who
follow Egyptian and Nordic traditions. The common thread is an
ancient and earth-based belief, with some worshipping a god or
goddess in the form of the Earth and the Moon. Honouring their
ancestors and the blood and mud of the country are an
important part of all Pagan beliefs, with festivals following
natural cycles. Hardy certainly used the Pagan year as a
structure for many of his novels.
Sue, an aromotherapist, looks
like she could be your aunt, and is wearing jeans and a shirt.
She has been a witch "for a long time..." Her
practice of witchcraft covers everything from honouring the
goddess, simple nature worship, to spellcasting: "it all
sounds a bit lame really," she says. Spells can be cast
to heal those in need, or to influence the weather.
Pass these people on the street
and you'd hardly be able to tell they were anything out of the
ordinary. One of the druids present, Kate, is a textile
designer. She chats about the new stall she hopes to take,
making clothes from natural fibres and selling unusual
accessories. Another woman present corners a couple of people
to arrange a chat over a bottle of wine later in the week. She
is studying for a PhD.
Toby, who works for an
electronics firm, describes himself as "a basic
Pagan." He is dressed in casual black, his long hair tied
back. Paganism is something that he has always followed:
"I went to Catholic school, but no matter how hard I
tried, I couldn't be a Christian." Although it was the
unbending doctrine of Catholicism which made Toby reject
Christianity, he enjoys the rituals of Paganism, which are
open to those who are interested. They involve nothing more
sinister than getting together with like minded people,
sitting on the top of a hill from sun down to sun up within a
protective circle, sometimes dancing and telling tales and
poems. "It's just a way of worshipping our gods really,
in the same way that some people go to church on a Sunday.
There's no definite set pattern," he explains,
"Paganism is quite freeform." Remembering his first
ritual, Toby says, "You do feel a little awkward to start
with, but eventually you throw yourself into it... nobody
forces you to do anything."
The difficult part is finding
like-minded people. Sue says it took her a while to be
accepted by a coven, a group of witches who work together to
cast spells. Pagans like to keep a low profile, and despite
their obvious love of a good time, many are wary to the point
of paranoia when it comes to publicity. Genuine curiosity is
accepted and even welcomed, but as with any religion, there
are a fair number of cranks to be avoided. "It can
attract people who aren't playing with a full deck of
cards," says one.
These problems arise partially
because there is little in the way of doctrine or structure in
most areas of Paganism. The British Druid Order has two
chiefs, but neither accept the role of leader, preferring the
term 'guide'. To a large extent, Pagans are free to construct
their own principles, leaving themselves and the term Pagan
open to misuse. Although the number of active Pagans is
certainly rising, Paganism is not yet a recognised religion in
this country: that decision would have to be made by the
courts. And Pagans are still very open to ridicule from people
who misunderstand their beliefs.
One of the most well-known
Pagans, and the woman widely accepted as the mother of modern
witchcraft was Doreen Valiente. She made Brighton her home
during her most productive years, and was the patron of The
Centre for Pagan Studies, set up in 1995 at Maresfield, East
Sussex. From this she hoped to encourage research and
understanding of Paganism, but unfortunately suffered from the
biggest obstacle still faced by most Pagans - making
themselves known without fear of prejudgement. Doreen died in
1999.
John Belham-Payne, inheritor of
Doreen's artefacts and power, believes that: "The biggest
misconception about Pagans and especially witches is that we
are all devil worshippers, or as I was recently called 'spawn
of Satan.' Absolutely 100 per cent not true. We do not believe
in the Devil. It is not part of our tradition. The Devil is a
totally Christian invention... I doubt you would ever find a
Pagan who is anti-Christian, though most Christian ministers
and their teaching are anti-Pagan." For those who are
concerned about witches casting black magic spells, he
answers: "We live like anyone else by a basic set of
rules, which we take very seriously... 'do whatever you wish,
but do not hurt anyone'... We all have the same ethical
beliefs of love and kinship with nature, the belief in the
duality of deity. In other words we believe in reincarnation
of the spirit."
As a High Priest and arguably
the most powerful witch in the world today, John meets Pagans
of all walks of life: "Amongst my own kind, witches,
there are actors and accountants, bankers and bakers, doctors
and nurses, midwives and housewives." He plans to open a
Witchcraft Museum in either Brighton or Hastings, and is eager
to hear from anyone with any items in their attic they may
want to ask about.
As one of the last counties to
succumb to Christianity's cross-wielding converts, Sussex is
steeped in Pagan history. Scratch the surface of some of
Brighton & Hove's most prominent landmarks and marvel at
what you find. Palmeira Square was the site of a bronze age
barrow, where one of only two cups ever found fashioned of
amber was excavated from an oak coffin. The burial ground was
a site for Pagan ceremonies. And the name Goldstone, which
comes from "Gorsedd" or "Col" stone, is
connected with the Druids. The original stone used to stand at
the north west corner of what is now Hove Park. We even had
our own mini Stonehenge, close to where we ritually enslave
ourselves every bank holiday to our modern god, the car. The
Steine comes from "staene," meaning the place of the
stones.
If you had no idea all this
history and mysticism was on your doorstep, you're forgiven.
This year sees only the 50th anniversary of the Repeal of the
Witchcraft Act. In the short time between then and now, it is
believed that Paganism has enjoyed a colossal resurgence,
rivalling Islam in its claim to be one of the country's
fastest growing religions. Put Pagan into any internet search
engine, and the sheer quantity of results is astounding. The
high quality of practically every site shows that Pagans are
anything but a thing of the past. John believes that there may
be many closet Pagans, who don't know who to contact, or may
not even know that they are Pagans. He hopes "that by
being so open in my belief that I do my best for those who,
because of their job or family cannot express their beliefs or
help by example to pave the way for others to be able to find
their own path."
Right now, back at the Moot,
the path leads directly to the bar. There's a mid- session
break for a beer, as the combination of reading aloud and
incense smoke has caused a few parched throats. This group of
people, with wildly varying backgrounds and religious beliefs
are united under the banner of Paganism, although their ways
of following their religion differ. And they meet up in the
pub. Makes you think that all those hours at Sunday School
were a bit of a waste really.
The Festival of Occulture at
Hanbury Ballroom, and Cinematheque June 25-30. Tickets from
01273 384801.
copyright New Insight
2001
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