“Climate Worship”

My first reaction to this article was to laugh hysterically.  The amount of right-wing pearl-clutching in it is almost ludicrous… I had to check to make sure it wasn’t from a parody site.  As someone commented on the site where I found the link, “Did they just call Greta Thunberg a witch?”  Seriously, though the amount of hatred that Ms. Thunberg has been attracting is… well, unsurprising.  Ms. Thunberg may or may not be Pagan (odds are against it)… but she is an exceptionally brave, intelligent, and articulate young woman and I wish her success.

But there is a point buried in the paranoid babblings in that article.  While the movement to challenge and stop climate change itself isn’t Paganism (it’s not a religion at all, although certain approaches toward it are parareligious), it’s often been argued that Paganism is essentially environmentalist. I wouldn’t go that far, but…

Certainly, environmentalism is central to a lot of Pagan belief- Nature is, after all, one of the four pillars holding up the Big Tent of Paganism.  Anyone whose focus is strongly on Nature is going to be interested in the health of the environment.  For that matter, those who are Devoted to nature-focused Powers are almost certainly going to be involved in at least some aspect of environmentalism (sometimes unexpectedly, says someone who recently did some work in that direction at the behest of a certain Irish sea god…).  It’s probably most accurate to say that there is a strong overlap in the Venn diagram between Paganism and environmentalism, and has been for decades.

The article that sparked this post ends with this sentence:  “The pagan barbarians from the north are back circling outside the citadel.”  Yes.  Yes we are.  From the south, the east and the west as well.  And if your so-called civilization means ignoring and even enhancing the ongoing climate crisis in order keep the 1% happy… your walls will not save you.

 

Glacier Bay

We took a trip to Alaska last month, and one of the stops was Glacier Bay National Park. It was awe-inspiring and beautiful, and the spirit of the place was very evident (even to a cement head like me).  Maybe it’s because everything is so new there- I tend to think of “natural wonders” as being impossibly ancient, but the fjords of the bay formed very recently- since the peak of the Little Ice Age in the 1700s, as a matter of fact.  There was something very raw and brash and youthful about the place.

Johns Hopkins Glacier

Crack! and rumble as we face the
Wall of ice; a woman behind me
Murmurs “white thunder”, and lightning
Ices my spine. More chunks tumble
And splash as the delayed crash follows.
Hard to find a scale to size it
Until the eye, the mind grasps
That those tiny curved dark dots
Are harbor seals, five hundred pounds
Or more, hauled out on the floes
(Oblivious to the plummet of blocks
Bigger than them). Blue glow
Shimmers in the serried spikes along the
Glacier top, and all is quiet for an
Intake of breath while our ship pivots.
Then a span of the ice-face fails
Its hold, spouts and plumes at first,
Then it all merges as the wall dissolves
At one point, fountaining high before
The roll of sound reaches us. A wave
Heaves up, spreads, touches the hull,
Rocks us gently, massive, implacable,
Before passing down the bay towards the sea.