The day after I published “a [P]agan church where Christianity [is] very much in the centre,” a friend and I had a delicious intellectual discussion that was garnished with a bit of shouting and a lot of cackling—I did most (okay, all of) the cackling.
Here is the tale:
“Just read your post,” she said. Let’s call her Nun.
“Any thoughts?” I said.
Nun stayed quiet for a while. Then she said, “I think a lot of Pagans will convert. Paganism is too disorganized. People liked to be lead.”
“Wow, Nun, you sound like you’ve been watching Avengers a bit too much. You do know that Marvel’s weak and totally nuts Loki is very little like the Trickster God of Norse mythology, right?”
“What are you talking about?” she said.
“Nothing,” I said, in a sugary voice. “Just saying that you might not know Pagans as well as a PhD. in religious studies makes you think you do.”
The shouting begins…
“That’s very condescending, Ms. Witch!”
The cackling joins the shouting…
“Mayhap, Mrs. Nun-Used-to-Be, but the patronizing tone doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Many Pagans are just afraid to be Christians,” she said.
I cackled, for a long, long, long—
“Magaly!” she shouted.
“Sorry, Nun, I was just giving you time to see how ridiculous that sounded. To say that Pagans are afraid to be Christians is just like saying that a gay guy doesn’t want to be straight because he is terrified of societal acceptance. Silly, silly, Sister.” *cackles*
“You’re impossible,” she said.
“Maybe,” I said, “but I’m also right, and you know it.” Then it hit me. “You know what? I’ll even say that many people, not just Pagans, care little about organized religion. They might be spiritual, love Nature; they might even believe in some sort of god-concept, but they are not all that religious.”
“Say what you want,” she said.
“I did. I said you’re wrong, I’m right, and my hotness is legendary.” I can be really obnoxious when my friend’s babbling annoys me. “So, what about the bet? The winner picks the next fictional book the loser has to read. And because it’s fiction, you can make me reread the Bible.” Like I said, my Wicked Luvs, really obnoxious.
“Fine,” she said, ignoring my bit of Bible jabbing, “you’re on.”
Thirty more minutes or so arguing, and we decided on the questions to ask and the five possible answers.
My Predictions – Many people love the planet that feeds them, even if they don’t always show it. And they tend to be spiritually inclined, but aren’t all that religious.
Nun’s Predictions – Most people dislike making decisions or assuming the responsibilities that come with their choices. When offered anonymity, most of them will confess to being religious, or at least to want some kind of organized religion in their lives.
The table below reflects what 31 of the Wickedest of all my Darling Luvs said
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff,Christ’s Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore. Yes, you’re probably right, I’m cackling as I typed the title ;-D
Notes (just because I suspect that some of you might be as
curious as yours truly):
1. Nun and I met in college. She used to be a nun, but fell in love with someone other than Jesus. They got married. She continues to follow the Christian faith, but not as a Catholic.
2. Nun argued that my sample wasn’t a good one because most of the people who follow my blog are Pagans. I told her that to conduct a poll where we asked non-Pagan individuals questions about Pagan behavior would be as ridiculous—and insensitive—as letting men make decisions about women’s uteruses. She agreed. I gloated. She called me impossible. I agreed.
3. I will reread Lamb with Nun, and might publish a post about our combined experience.