Exegesis on the Rede
Exegesis on the Rede
All religions began with somebody’s sudden flashing insight, enlightenment, a shining vision. Some mystic found the Way and the words to share the vision, and, sharing it, attracted followers. The followers may repeat those precise and poetic words about the vision until they congeal into set phrases, fused language, repeated by rote and without understanding. Clichés begin as great wisdom – that’s why they spread so fast – and end as ritual phrases, heard but not understood. Living spirituality so easily hardens to boring religious routine, maintained through guilt and fear, or habit and social opportunism – any reason but joy. We come to the Craft with a first generation’s joy of discovery, and a first generation’s memory of bored hours of routine worship in our childhood. Because we have known the difference, it is our particular challenge to find or make ways to keep the Craft a living, real experience for our grandchildren and for the students of our students. I think the best of these safeguards is already built into the Craft as we know it, put there by our own good teachers. On our Path, the mystic experience itself is shared, not just the fruits of mysticism. We give all our students the techniques, and the protective/supportive environment that enable almost every one of them to Draw the Moon and/or Invoke the God. This is an incredibly radical change from older religions, even older Pagan religions, in which the only permissible source of inspiration has been to endlessly reinterpret and reapply the vision of the Founder (the Bible, the Book of the Law, the Koran, … ). The practice of Drawing the Moon is the brilliant crown of the Craft. But notice how often, in the old myths, every treasure has its pitfalls? I think I’m beginning to see one of ours. Between the normal process of original visions clotting into cliche, and our perpetual flow of new inspiration, we are in danger of losing the special wisdom of those who founded the modern Craft. I do not think we should assiduously preserve every precious word. My love for my own Gardnerian tradition does not blind me to our sexist and heterosexist roots. And yet, I want us to remain identifiably Witches and not meld into some homogeneous “New Age” sludge. For this, I think we need some sort of anchoring in tradition to give us a sense of identity. Some of the old sayings really do crystallize great wisdom as well, life-affirming Pagan wisdom that our culture needs to hear. So I think it’s time for a little creative borrowing from our neighbors. Christians do something they call “exegesis.” Jews have a somewhat similar process called “midrash.” What it is is something between interpretation and meditation, a very concentrated examination of a particular text. The assumption often is that every single word has meaning (cabalists even look at the individual letters). Out of this inspired combination of scholarship and daydream comes the vitality of those paths whose canon is closed. The contemporary example, of course, is Christian Liberation Theology, based on a re-visioning of Jesus that would utterly shock John Calvin. Although our canon is not closed – and the day it is is the day I quit – I’m suggesting that we can use a similar process to renew the life of the older parts of our own still-young heritage. So, I’d like to try doing some exegesis on an essential statement of the Craft way of life. Every religion has some sort of ethic, some guideline for what it means to live in accordance with this particular mythos, this worldview. Ours, called the Wiccan Rede, is one of the most elegant statements I’ve heard of the principle of situational ethics. Rather than placing the power and duty to decide about behavior with teachers or rulebooks, the Rede places it exactly where it belongs, with the actor. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill:
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