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Old Gods, Modern Warriorship

Sharing a little about my spiritual practices and perspective; growing up with a polytheistic faith, and worshipping my Gods as a warrior

 

Old Gods, Modern Warriorship

There are many rays of light leading to the fire from which all things emanate, and every soul is unique. Spirituality is a quest and we each experience it differently – how could we not? So, I’d like to take a moment to let you all get to know me a little better, and my own spiritual practice.


Like many people of faith, when life gets difficult and uncertain, I turn to my Gods. The word faith likely originates with the proto-Indo-European root word bheidh-, meaning to trust (1).  To me, this is the relationship I have with those I pray to, trust – perhaps you can relate.


In my religion, we have many different Gods, and believe they (along with all other things in existence) are born from a singular divine truth, an ‘All God’ who encompasses all things, ever present and so ever concealed. We believe the Gods are our spiritual ancestors, that the only difference between the soul of a person and the soul of a God is one of power and wisdom.  In this way, we are the children of the Gods, and the human soul is akin to a child-God; each one of us unique, each one of us singular in the universe and yet part of a greater whole. We spend our lives learning, growing, and experiencing, ever reaching closer to our divine origins. That is, we spend our lives becoming who we truly are, seeking the truth of the self throughout many incarnations.

We spend our lives becoming who we truly are...

As a child my relationship with the Gods was simple and intimate. Polytheism was a normal feature of my household, practiced openly in the home and held tightly to the heart when in public. This was a necessity of where I grew up, done so that we might protect ourselves from a community whose members sometimes had trouble understanding the existence of alternate spiritual practices. This was normal to me; I knew nothing else, nor truly understood the danger of being discovered. So, I never begrudged keeping my faith private. I lived in a secret world apart, filled with Gods, spirits, magic and wonder. What more could a kid ask for?


From my earliest ages, I was raised to see the Gods as part of the family. They were my spiritual parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts. My siblings and I were encouraged to speak to them freely. I never imagined it was a one-way conversation, the Gods were always present in the lives of the people. It was simply up to me to learn to listen better so I could hear what they were saying. And I did. Through the eyes of a child, I discovered that the language of the Gods is not always verbal – it’s bigger than that, and not limited the way our methods of communication are. Their words are whispered on the winds of inspiration, reflected in water, glimpsed in omens which pass by us. The Gods speak from above and below, within and without; they can be heard in the sun bathing our faces, the billowing wind at our back, and the gentle light of the moon that leads us through the dark places.

Growing up I spoke to the Gods constantly, in the quiet of the night, and the bustle of the day. I shared my joys with them and turned to them to console my sorrows. Their gifts are many, but most notably have come in the forms of unconditional love and simple, endlessly deep glimpses of wisdom. In truth, I don’t think there is anything that can be held in the hand which will ever console the soul as much as the realizations of true wisdom can.



As I grew older, I came to learn of the many other Gods in my traditions, and their many names and myths. While I grew up in the new world, my family comes from the U.K. More specifically, from Scotland, and the regions of Galloway and the Borders. These regions are a unique place, forming the center of the Isles. Galloway, for example, historically hosted many languages inclusive of Gaelic, Welsh, Norman-French and others.


Cauldron of fire

Photo by Chris Rhoads on Unsplash


The old ways are far from extinct, continuing in their own varied ways throughout quiet villages and rural communities, passed down as organic living traditions. Living traditions are most often replete with intangible culture and oral traditions and can differ from region to region. My religion is an ethnic faith which was passed down by my ancestors, preserved by my predecessors, and continues to be further revived in this new age of information. All the names, history, myths and knowledge can add to one’s practice, but for me, the simple and intimate relationship I developed with my Gods as a child still underpins my faith to this day. They are my family. They are the elders of my people, who I share my joys with, and who console my sorrows with their love and wisdom. My faith is not blind, my Gods have earned my trust, and so I know I could walk into the darkest parts of the unknown secure in their hands.


In my religion, even the gentlest domestic deity is also a warrior, bearing a golden torc about their neck. When I took my oath of enlistment into the Marines, I stood in a room with my future brothers and sisters and we all swore an oath which ended with those famed words, ‘so help me God.’  To me, this was ‘so help me Gods’. Like many service members, when I made my oath before the great Divine to which all spiritualities ascend, I did so in the terms I knew, before the deities I knew – and who know me so well. This is an oath which is as binding as it is lifelong.


 After bootcamp, I went home on leave and was initiated into the warrior mysteries of my tradition, swearing yet another life-long warriors’ oath. When I left the Marines, I did so with a spiritual calling. I carried yet another oath from an initiation into the spiritual mysteries of my traditions and stepped onto the long journey of becoming a priest of my Gods. So, what happens when a warrior decides to become a priest? Well, the same thing that happens when they become a parent, a partner, or take on a new career. They become both. Warriorship is an initiation that reaches into the most inward parts of the spirit, it’s not a bridge one can uncross. And why would we want to? So, I am still a warrior, and pursue my spiritual vocation as a warrior.


While the Gods will always be family, the oaths I have taken and the initiations I have undergone have changed my relationship with my Gods in many profound ways. When a person becomes a warrior, it seems to me, the Gods expect them to be a warrior. The standards change. When I underwent my initiation to begin the path of a priest of my Gods, it was made clear to me that my relationship with them had evolved yet again – I would be put to work!


I try to the very best of my ability to live up to the oaths I have sworn to my Gods. I’ll continuously strive to earn the same level of trust as I have for them, just as I will serve both them and my people. Why? Because warriors are faithful. We keep our oaths, we stay true to truth, and we keep faith even in the longest nights.


References

1.      “Faith | Search Online Etymology Dictionary,” n.d. https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=faith.

 

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