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10. Personal responsibility. Christians are lucky. They have that whole Original Sin thing to fall back on. Basically, because a snake talked their primoridial parents into eating some fruit from a tree, they're born with the taint of sin about them. This means that they can trace everything bad they do - from murder and molesting little altar boys to eating too much turkey on Thanksgiving and driving in the carpool lane when they're alone - back to this. And they don't actually have to do anything about their woeful state. They just have to say they're sorry and accept Jesus, and poof, they're magically cleansed. There's no easy fix for Hellenes. If you screw up, it's your fault. There's no one else you can blame: it falls squarely on your shoulders. Similarly, if you dig yourself into a hole, you have to dig yourself out of it. No one's going to come along and give you a blood-covered 'get out of Hell free' card. You have to make amends for your wrong-doings, even if, like Oedipus, you sin unknowingly, or like Agamemnon, a divinity has temporarily caused you to take leave of your senses. 9. Animal Sacrifice. The idea of reciprocal though unequal gift-giving is central to many Pagan religions, but especially to Hellênismos. In Homer, it is the religious act. par excellance and no prayer is offered without the accompanyment of incense and the fragrant scent of animal fat burnt upon the altar. When Christianity wished to dismantle its competitor from the top down, it forbid animal sacrifices and the large public festivals and banquets that accompanied it. Yet, this is an aspect of ancient religion that many squeamish moderns have a problem with. And understandably so. It's messy. Animals are dirty creatures. They track mud everywhere. They smell. They urinate and deficate at will. Most of them have fleas or ticks or other nasty parasites. They slobber. And they knock stuff over. Animal sacrifice is complicated. First you have to pick out a proper animal, free of blemish and ritually pure. Then you have to lead it up to the altar, and sprinkle it with water to make sure it gives consent to being sacrificed. (If it just stands there looking at you, it doesn't.) Then there's the incredibly long prayers and complex ritual actions. And the actual slaughter, which needs to be done properly and skillfully so that the animal doesn't suffer needlessly. Then you have to dig through the carcus and find the organs that belong to the Gods, and read the liver for oracles. It's a lot of work. Certainly more than Christians go through in preparing their cannibalistic Jesus crackers. Plus, most of us simply lack the room. I don't know about you, but I just can't fit a proper hekatomb (100 cattle) in my backyard. And have you ever tried to lead a goat through your living room? The damn things'll take a bite out of your Lazy-boy recliner every single time. And let's be honest. It's kind of gross. All that warm blood gushing everywhere, and the thick coat of fat and the sausage-like intestines and the stench. Oh, the stench. The worst part is when the blood sprays everywhere, and you get it all over your nice, clean khiton. Do you have any idea how tough it is to get a stain like that out? 8. The homework. In the 1970s, Asatru touted itself as the religion with homework. Hellênismos is the religion with homework - and pop quizzes! Hellenes often have a reputation for intellectual snobbery and bookishness. Let me tell you, this is well deserved. Unlike with other Pagan religions, Hellenic books don't come in dumbed down versions, kindly indicated by a little crescent on the spine. Consequently, we have to make do with dry, academic tomes that contain ample footnotes and large chunks of text in Latin or Greek. (Some Hellenes have even been thrown into orgasmic bliss upon hearing that Walter Burkert is releasing a new book.) Any Hellene worth their salt will have a conversational familiarity with the primary texts: Homer, Hesiod, the Orphic hymns, Plato, Plutarch, Pausanias, Pindar, Sappho and Herodotus, as well as the important later Neoplatonists. In addition to religion, Hellenes will often be conversant in subjects such as philosophy, history, economics, politics, and gender issues - as these have bearing on any culturally specific religion. Many will also be fluent in Greek - Attic, Koine, Archaic, and Modern. (Anything beyond that is just showing off.) Through a rigorous system of peer review and criticism, Hellenes have adopted academic standards of communication, especially the quoting of sources and construction of arguments with logical inferences. Failure to adopt such standards can result in severe mockery. And, this isn't just on websites, publications, email lists and boards: I know Hellenes (myself actually) who employ footnotes in their casual conversations. Such a level of geekiness isn't for everyone. There have been graduate students, for instance, who left the religion because it was too much work. 7. Too many holidays. I don't think Wiccans realize quite how lucky they are. They have eight major holidays, fairly evenly spaced throughout the year: Samhain (Oct 31), Yule (Dec 21), Imbolc (Feb 1), Ostara (March 21), Beltaine (May 1), Litha (June 21), Lughnasadh (Aug 1), and Mabon (Sept 21). Hellenes have this many observances every month! According to Hesiod's Works and Days the Agathos Daimon receives sacrifices on the second day of the month, Athene the third, Aphrodite, Herakles, Hermes & Eros the fourth, Artemis the sixth, Apollo the seventh, and Poseidon and Theseus on the eighth. The Noumenia or new moon festival was celebrated on the first day of the month, and sacrifices were given to Hekate and the spirits of the dead on the final days. These are just the regular, recurring sacrifices. Each month usually has an additional three or four festivals scheduled - while months like Skiraphorion have seven, Metageitnion has eight, and Puanepsion has eleven! It seems like every other day is either a festival day or preparation for a festival day. And Hellenic festivals aren't simple things, either. They require lavish presentations, big processions, music, competitions, and overflowing feasts. Other Gods may accept kool-aid and cookies as a proper sacrificial meal: the Olympians are a bit more demanding. 6. 'Creative' names discouraged. If you've ever been to a Wiccan event, the first thing you'll notice are the wonderful names: Rainbow SparkleStar, Elfshot, Deerwoman MoonMenses, and more Jasmines, Rowans, Ravens, Merlins, and Wrens than you can shake a stick at. (That stick should preferably be covered in glitter, feathers, and crystals by the way.) Hellenes, on the other hand, are pretty boring when it comes to that kind of thing. Most of them actually go by their given names. Those of us who adopt religious nomikers usually choose sensible Greek sounding ones. 5. No fancy titles. Impressive sounding titles abound in other Pagan religions. You can be an ArchDruid, a High Priestess, a Magus, a Discordian Pope, the Outer Head of the O.T.O. (I've met two in AOL chat rooms), a Witch Queen, a Dolphin Lord of the True Atlantean Brotherhood, a third level Reiki Master, and so on. You don't even have to deserve these titles. The only limit is your imagination and the credulity of the people you're trying to convince. Hellênismos is kind of a downer in that respect. We don't have any neat titles or rigid hierarchy. In antiquity, there was no special class of Priests who approached the Gods on behalf of the people: anyone could sacrifice at the altar of the Gods, or beseech them in prayer. In fact, the most important sacrifices were done inside the home, by the head of the family. Even marriages and funerals were performed by the family itself. Being a Priest was more of a civic post than a spiritual calling. (In fact, when they weren't hereditary, Priesthoods were usually bought and sold!) They presided over temples, were in charge of putting on the big festivals with their special dances and public banquets, and got to sacrifice the animal and take home their portion of the meat. That was pretty much it. (Things were no doubt different in the mysteries, and at Oracle centers like Delphi or Dodona - but we're talking about the public religion here.) The rest of the time they were just regular Joe Hellene, with no more authority than any other elder of the community. 4. No super powers or dreadful conspiracies. Practically every Wiccan you talk to has incredible powers. They can levitate stuff with their mind. They can make people fall in love with them simply by reciting bad poetry. They can speak to animals. Travel through the astral realms. Banish ghosts and demons. And make clowds form and rain fall at will. They all seem to have special destinies, usually something about stopping the end of the world. And any time they lose a job, have a relationship break up, or come down with the flu, it's because they're under psychic attack from rogue witches or Secret Black Lodges. Hellenes are pretty boring by comparison. In fact, the only thing that sets us apart from society at large is the fact that we pray and sacrifice to more Gods than they do. 3. The burden of being an heir to Hellenic culture. For many, Greek culture is the hallmark of Western Civilization. Greece placed her indelible stamp upon the fields of mathematics, the physical sciences, astronomy, medicine, architecture, sculpture, philosophy, politics, economics, poetry, drama, and history, so that you cannot even discuss these various subjects without mentioning the Hellenic contribution. Well over 25% of our English words come directly from Greek - and that number rises drastically in the sciences. The American democratic form of government, with its checks and balances, its faith in the average citizen, and its separation of church and state - is a lineal descendent of 5th century Athens. Many of the great figures of Greece were truly 'Rennaissance men' - dabbling in art, politics, philosophy, the military, athletics, religion, and agriculture. Only slaves were specialists in a single subject. That's a pretty heavy-duty burden to place on someone's shoulders. Especially when all you want to do is lay around the house in your boxers, smoking pot, eating curry vindaloo and microwave burritoes, watching Jerry Springer, Shoujo Kakumei Utena, and kicking cyborg alien ass on the Playstation, with an occasional foray online to check your mail or look at porn. There are days when I really think I should be out sacking villages or writing a 50,000 line epic on the founding of the city of Thebes or something impressive like that. But I usually just roll over and go back to bed and let the nagging guilt of a life wasted pass me by. 2. No celebrity Hellenes. The Mormons have Donny and Marie Osmond. The Buddhists have Ricky Martin and the Beastie Boys. Wicca has Cybil Shepherd and Sully from Godsmack. Santana and Shirley Maclaine are New Agers. Tom Cruise and Michael Jackson are Scientologists. Marilyn Manson and N*Sync's Lance Bass are Satanists. (Oh sure. He'll deny it. But how else do you explain that awful, awful movie On the Line?) Mel Brooks and Adam Sandler are Jews. Moby and Creed frontman Scott Stapp are Christians. Even Islam has a pop icon in Cat Stevens. But there are no celebrity Hellenic Polytheists. Which, come to think of it, probably isn't such a bad thing. And the number one reason not to be a Hellene: 1. The Gods actually listen to your prayers. You'd think this would be a good thing, wouldn't you? Especially coming from Christianity, with Yahweh the neglectful absentee Father God. But that's only because you haven't had Dionysos drag you into the desert to have a little heart to heart, while the temple where you were worshipping starts to burn down. Or have your wallet stolen every time you pray to Hermes. Or have four people proclaim their undying love to you within 24 hours of complaining to Aphrodite that you're feeling lonely. Or have your your telephone shut off after praying to have the chaos from your online life removed. The Gods have only had a handful of worshippers within the last 1600 years. This is a big change from the way it used to be, when whole cities would gather and burn oxen on their altars. They haven't had much to do in that time, and I think they're a little bored, you know. So they tend to take a very keen interest in our lives. Too keen sometimes. I saw a nymph watch me take a shower once. That was a very disturbing experience. |
