Deep In My Heart I Do Believe

This week I watched a fantastic documentary film called Shared Legacies: The African-American Jewish Civil Rights Alliance. The inspiration of Shared Legacies was in jarring contrast to the Washington riot we’ve been seeing replayed over and over on television. It’s hard to place the lives lost in the DC melee beside civil rights martyrs. Still, we must remember that some lost their lives in a way that refocused our attention on the things that really matter in America and beyond. A juxtaposition of January 6 with a previous Black Lives Matter march and rally allows those who are willing to see the distinction between injustice and a healthy democracy. Exposure of many of the January 6 protestors has revealed ugly truths about our society. I expect to see more gaslighting and conspiracy theories spewed, but now they will be backlit by the brighter lights who are stepping forward to bring our democracy back into a semblance of balance.

Late afternoon on the 6th I met with interfaith and Jewish leaders here in my city to determine what our immediate public response would be. We knew that whatever we might say about what had already happened, we needed to put out messaging that might prevent bloodshed in the near future. I called Andras Corban-Arthen of Earthspirit for advice. Andras has been deeply involved in global interfaith for many years. He agreed with me that interfaith groups must avoid politics. But, he exclaimed, everything is political, and politics is how people in our society communicate with each other. He pointed out that there are many religions whose members have a long history of bloodshed and conflict, but who have learned to come together over shared human concerns like hunger, racism, equal rights and environmental work.

In the end, our statewide media release noted that marches are a cherished American practice, but urged people to refrain from counterprotest for the time being because the white nationalists across the country were eager and prepared for physical conflict. One person contacted us with a polite reproach that protest is an important part of her spirituality. My reply was that she should continue to do all that she can, but to explore fresh ways to speak out which would not jeopardize her or others’ lives, to watch for a day soon when rather than pouring gas on flames, one’s voice will be heard, effecting change.

Nonetheless, our spiritual lives do seek a way to connect with others during dangerous times. While I counsel caution about going abroad during pandemic (when I visited a state MAGA rally on the morning of January 6 I believe I saw only one person wearing a mask), I am personally committed to continuing to speak my truth in support of justice and against racism.

White nationalist activities grow bolder not just in the United States but in many countries. This has drawn extra attention to the Paganism & Its Discontents conference of 2019 and the release of a publication of those papers in fall of 2020 by a U.K. publisher. Whatever our theology, spirituality or practice, surely we can all agree that it is high time for humans to treat each other as they wish to be treated, that it is time for whites to stop fearing people of color, time to affirm the merits of a multicultural society. Within this seminary’s virtual walls we encourage discussion in the classroom and beyond about how to make a difference. We encourage that discussion to arise out of passion, not anger, the latter being a fire that is too easily quenched or too quick to surge out into a wildfire. Anger can burn, and some things need burning, but right now we need new beginnings, the fruit of intense passion for life. A dispassionate composure may help us to look back on our history with honesty, finally making us able as a country to admit how we have harmed so many.

Once we have looked back with remorse, then unity and peace naturally lead us into the future. Is this Pollyanna speaking? Or could it be that deep in my heart I really do believe that we shall overcome someday? In the days to come, be gentle with each other. Assume good faith and intent, and affirm integrity when you see it.

Holli S. Emore, M.Div
Executive Director

Pagans in Pandemic Spring 2020

We asked you to share what’s happening in your world as we go through the pandemic together. Thanks to everyone who responded!

photo courtesy of Laurel Holmstrom-Keyes

Read here

Aidan Solar in Canada; Lucia Morena Vela in Spain; Laurel Holmstrom-Keyes in California; Julie Olson, CMC, in Arizona; Katherine Bayne in Virginia; David Oringderff in Missouri; Strobus White in Massachusetts; Maggie Beaumont in New Jersey; Megan Woolever in California; Joan Ouimette, M.Div. and CHS alumna; Michael York, in England; Cynthia Cebuhar in Arizona; Brandy Williams in Washington (state); Jennifer Bennett in Massachusetts; Wes Isley, M.Div. and CHS alumnus; Lauren Raine in Arizona, former CHS Artist-in-Residence; Valentine McKay-Riddell in New Mexico; Amy Beltaine in Portugal; Jenny Blain in Scotland.

A Calling to Pagans

Tomorrow many Christians will celebrate a feast of fire which they call Pentecost. Some of you may remember the story, and it feels as if fire is raining down on all our heads today, around our country, just as it did on the early apostles of the Pentecost story.

I asked my friend, a Lutheran minister, what he plans to say to his congregation tomorrow. He had just driven several hours to get home in time to attend a rally here in Columbia which turned ugly after he left, thinking it was over. He pointed out that we can let fire consume and destroy, or we can let it rise up inside us to emerge as righteous action.

Anger which destroys is not what is needed right now. Anger which demands justice certainly is. That fiery anger can be the fuel that keeps us working for something better long after the last protester has gone home. Here in South Carolina, one of the only states in the country without a hate crimes law, there is one crawling slowly towards a vote – get fired up about getting that passed.

Don’t just collect cans of food at a once-a-year Pagan festival – find out what is needed in your own community to address poverty, unequal education, domestic violence, and all the plagues that would destroy. Don’t just look away from the white separatists and anarchists who would turn us against each other. Live your truth right in front of them. Speak up, step up, and do the work. Most importantly, don’t just lament your white privilege (or lack of it) – live your life in a way that will tip the scales of Maat back to balance, for all of us.

Finally, I want to quote Michelle Obama, a very wise woman, who tweeted yesterday: “It’s up to all of us—Black, white, everyone—no matter how well-meaning we think we might be, to do the honest, uncomfortable work of rooting it out. It starts with self-examination and listening to those whose lives are different from our own.

“It ends with justice, compassion, and empathy that manifests in our lives and on our streets. I pray we all have the strength for that journey, just as I pray for the souls and the families of those who were taken from us.”

My prayer as well, may it be so.

Holli S. Emore, M.Div
Executive Director

Remembering September 11

Ten years ago…

Cherry Hill Seminary was a fledgling online presence, no less pained by the violence of September 11, 2011, than our sisters and brothers in the Christian, Jewish, Muslim, non-religious, and other religious communities across the country, around the world.

Ten years later, our faculty and students reflect on the meaning they draw from this decade of grieving, self-examination and, we hope, healing.  No doubt, the aftermath of September 11 became part of the journey of some to Cherry Hill Seminary where they join with others in building reservoirs of wisdom.

At first, we intended to issue a statement on behalf of Cherry Hill Seminary, our hopes for a future in which our children may live without fear, without judgment, and in peace.  But when we asked our Cherry Hill Seminary family for their thoughts, we were overwhelmed by the passion and eloquence. Therefore, we offer excerpts from several individuals who serve on our faculty.

These powerful comments reflect our national wounding as well as our journey towards wholeness as a society.  Please keep in mind that this sharing is not an endorsement by Cherry Hill Seminary of any particular policies, movements or political views, but that each of our professors and students speaks freely from his or her conscience. May their words commemorate the great loss experienced on September 11.  May their words shine light into the dark places exposed on that day.

May their words bring us closer to true peace.

Vivianne Crowley, Ph.D., Dept. of Pastoral Counseling & Chaplaincy

My husband Chris and I were staying in downtown New York that day. I was doing a radio interview on the dark side of the human personality when the first tower was hit and the questions suddenly switched to commenting on terrorism but at first we didn’t know why . . . We went out into the street and were there when the second tower collapsed.  We then spent the day walking the streets, talking to shocked people and wandering at night down the centre of a deserted traffic-less Fifth Avenue.  It was like something from a Hollywood movie of the end of the world . . . What I felt about the whole thing was that it showed how fragile our society was in this interconnected world.  It’s not just the effect of one act of terrorism but governments’ and people’s reactions to it – proliferation, replication, escalation . . . We can’t prevent isolated acts of terrorism, however draconian our security apparatus becomes; but we can control our reactions to it.  It is a good time ten years on to reflect on the need for mindfulness and mature wisdom in dealing with those whose ambition is to provoke us into actions that destroy ourselves, our values and the societies we have built.

–Vivianne Crowley

People of many faiths and no faiths died that clear September morning.  And oddly, East Coast, West Coast, North and South seemed to melt together.  We were, in a real sense, all New Yorkers.  The world seemed to stand beside America.  There was a powerful sense of unity that unfortunately was itself short lived.  Those of us who consider ourselves part and parcel of Nature, the natural world, are horrified by any destruction of life.  The worst way to respond to such destruction is to mete out further, greater destruction and death, human and non-human.  We think not only of the unwise, senseless, costly and unwinnable wars our leaders have chosen to wage, and the ten years of suffering and loss of lives of Iraqis, Afghanis, Coalition and American women and men, but the unnatural disasters waged on the air, the ground and water, animals and birds; children and elderly people filled with fear.  The awful decision of those 19 men who committed suicide while murdering thousands will never be forgotten.  That terrible act was a “911” emergency call to the world, but primarily to the United States (“US”), to wake up to the explosive power of mixing ignorance, poverty and hopelessness with religious extremism.  Perhaps instead of building new monuments to wealth and towers of “freedom” we could work with people around the world to build peace, brotherhood and sisterhood with living things in all lands, without fear, without terror, without national vibrato and further violence.  Those fateful acts in the blue skies of that autumn day ten years ago threatened the planet itself, and we should never give in to the terrors, or the terrible fears that seek to destroy our freedom to think reasonably and act compassionately toward all.

–Chris Highland
Tracy Wharton

My hope for the day of remembrance is that we recall our commitments to those who stepped up in service on that day- many of the firefighters, chaplains, human service people, police, volunteers… they are still fighting for benefits to help them live with the aftereffects of their selfless actions, and many died without care that should have been given without a second thought for the cost.  I hope that we will remember that they were willing to sacrifice themselves for us, and we have largely let them- something that we, as a nation, should be ashamed of.  On a day where we will pause to remember our collective tragedy, let us also remember the valor of those men and women who turned without a thought and walked into the fray, many of them for the last time, and those who did not run, but stopped to help those standing nearby- their coworkers, the people they met in a hallway or a staircase, the people wandering in the rubble and the streets.  As we call them heroes, something so easily done these days, let us also turn our eyes to how we value what they do in an ongoing manner, and how we can add substance of support to what is otherwise simply so much lovely rhetoric.  My hope is that we can begin to shift our understanding of what it means to help another human being, from something that is done for heroism to something that is simply an unquestioned part of who we are.  We have many differences across our nation, but when we stand together to support one another, nothing could be a stronger force.

–Tracy Wharton
Michael York, Ph.D., Professor Emeritus, Dept. of Theology & Religious History

Paganism is the mother of all religions – whether some of her children wish to acknowledge her or not.  As the oldest of religions, paganism has not been exempt from learning, growth and change – having in the past been associated with atrocity and cruelty no less than most religions that have emerged in her wake.  But today, despite the great variety in practice and understanding of the divine that exists beneath the pagan banner, there is an underlying sentiment – conviction if you will – that cherishes the gift of life for everyone.  Consequently, today’s paganism holds her head high in abhorrence and rejection of wanton slaying and/or massacre when situations are not conforming to our immediate wishes.  Paganism, as the origin of the human propensity for the spiritual, offers a grounding belief in the best that all of earth’s children can produce – despite the different gods and goddesses that these children revere.  If the horror of 911 and its aftermath bring more clearly to awareness and focus the worst of which humans are capable, pagan belief affirms the possibility of an opposite consisting of universal respect and mutual listening – an opposite for which we dedicate ourselves toward the necessary work of reviving and resurrecting the sacred phoenix from the ashes of futile ruin.  Paganism welcomes one and all to the unfolding ascent of the human dream.

–Michael York

What stays with me is the unity we found once the devastation became known, that our depth of grief and pain brought us together in uncommon ways.  We as a people were forever changed; and that change became embodied through us by the power of our collective soul to right toward healing. The day holds special significance for me because I’m from New York originally. These photos are from Brooklyn just a week later, taken at a park located right across the water from where the Twin Towers had stood.  I remember.

–Chandra Alexandre

We are wrestling with our angels as a people. And in some ways, we are not doing very well. And so, I think we are still facing the challenges and ordeals of this time of initiation. This year, I will be observing the remembrance of September 11th with prayers to both my ancestors and to Horus. I pray to my ancestors that my countrymen uphold the virtues of liberty, openness, and unity in diversity that has characterized our best ambitions. I pray to Horus that we may recognize that we are being tested by our own angels, and recognize that spiritual warfare is with the self, and not with others. I also ask my ancestors and Horus, in his guise as a psychopomp, to help those who died that day and who may not have completed their own journey, to help them that they make their passage safely, that they achieve happiness their chosen eternity, and and that they complete the Great Work.

–Grant Potts
Robert Patrick

The day holds memory of terror. We make memory of sacred space that is our life, today.
The day holds memory of loss. We make memory of what we still have, today.
The day holds memory of fear. We make memory of newborn trust, born in what we do, today.
The day holds memory of rage. We make memory of deep, centered peace in this moment, today.
The day holds memory of abiding grief. We take steps to heal and create abiding wisdom, today.

–Bob Patrick