An idea that I see occurring again and again in Pagan dialogue, and increasingly in polytheist dialogue, is the idea of ‘orthopraxy not orthodoxy’.
Before I go too much further, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, orthopraxy is:
“Rightness of action (as distinct from or in addition to rightness of thought); right-doing, practical righteousness; correct practice.”
While the the Oxford English Dictionary defines orthodoxy as:
Authorized or generally accepted theory, doctrine, or practice
My main issue is that I see that orthopraxy stems from orthodoxy, not the other way around. Right action stems from right thought. One requires the other, as right thought without right action is impotent, but right action is unattainable without right thought. Right action and right thought are philosophical terms, and there are several interpretations from theological and philosophical schools as to their meaning. I understand right action as being aligned with right thought, that is, correct actions flow from correct thoughts. In the case of the Gods, respect for the Gods in ritual flows from respect from the Gods in thought. The reverse is also true. Making an offering to a God if you disrespect that God while doing so is itself a form of disrespect.
In theological terms, this means that within polytheism, an orthodox position is that the Gods are real and that They are due worship. Orthopraxy that flows from this position, then, would be to treat the Gods with respect, and to do things that are worshipful, such as pray or make offerings. In the Northern Tradition/Heathenry I would be required to make prayers and a certain offering, such as mugwort, to a Sacred Fire. This is personal orthopraxy which flows from the orthodoxy I have just described.
This is not to say that I want to impose my beliefs on the whole of polytheism, but that polytheism as a whole does actually hold orthodox beliefs from which orthopraxy arises even if those beliefs are incredibly loosely defined. In other words, orthodoxy’s details differ polytheist religion to polytheist religion, but two polytheisms in comparison will have orthodoxies which are similar in general, i.e. the Gods are real, the Gods are holy/sacred, the Gods are due offerings, etc.
Without the orthodoxy of the Gods being real, holy, and due offerings, the orthopraxy of offering to Them in or out of ritual makes not a lick of sense. Polytheists who have adopted the ‘orthopraxic not orthodoxic’ line in the extreme give up the understanding that there are things which polytheists need to believe in order to be polytheist. I’m not even getting into religious specifics here. There’s no need; a Kemetic orthodoxic understanding of the Gods would be different, at the least in detail if not in many overarching senses, than my own as a Northern Tradition Pagan and Heathen.
But why am I emphasizing orthodoxy here? It would seem I am advocating a return to a cage, one I ostensibly flew out of when I left Catholicism. Such an idea, though, leaves orthodoxy, as well as orthopraxy, and much of religious thought that flows from them, in the realm of monotheism. I see no reason for this to be, especially when many polytheist religions have quite a lot to say about these things, and exploring these things, rather than being purely divisive, can actually bring our communities together from within. I do not expect a Kemetic follower to hold, much less entertain my religion’s orthodoxy any more than I would hold theirs, excepting cases where I am interacting with and worshiping Gods from their religion.
This openness to orthodoxy, though, does not mean that I accept others’ orthodoxy wholesale or even in part anymore than they need to accept mine. Disagreements over orthodoxy and orthopraxy are, to my mind, normal, and best navigated by dialogue both between people and, especially, between people and the Gods. Heck, my disagreement over orthopraxy or orthodoxy within my religion has little to no input on a Kemetic’s, for instance. It’s a different story if folks outside of our religions are saying to polytheists that we need to be orthopraxic, not orthodoxic, or vice versa. It’s one thing if we adopt these stances ourselves, and it’s a whole other when this is put on us. Granted, I’d rather not see polytheism swing the pendulum hard toward orthopraxy and away from orthodoxy, since I don’t see them as binaries. Rather, I see them more as complementary sides of the same coin.
Adopting orthodox positions does not mean that we’ll suddenly *poof* turn into fundamentalist Christians today, tomorrow, or a thousand years from now. It does not mean that we’ll suddenly adopt a theocracy from which there is no escape. It does not mean that pluralism will disappear, either. Plenty of historical examples exist as testaments to that. Most polytheist religions have the understanding that there are, in addition to being quite large Gods, cosmologically speaking, many of these Gods may be understood in a local way, that is, through a particular orthodoxy on the local level. I remember reading an article by Sannion quite a while ago referencing different Dionysian temples with different understandings of Him, different requirements for ritual purity (some very exacting if memory serves) and offerings which were well-received for one but not the other.
A firmer adoption of orthodoxy and orthopraxy does not mean we fall into one-true-wayism. We are a whole collection of religions, religious movements and the like between the Pagan, polytheist, and interconnected communities. I find such a thing, given the diversity of beliefs within the polytheist religions themselves, to be nearly impossible. Polytheism’s main stance precludes there being only one way of doing things. I imagine the same of most Pagan groups.
There are places where I do accept a stance that puts more weight toward orthopraxy. For instance, when I attend a ritual for the first time, I do things in an orthopraxic way, as I probably don’t have the information or the headspace for doing things in an orthodoxic way. When I went to the Backeion at Many Gods West, I was there worshiping and praising Dionysus, reciting the prayers and making my own when I felt the call to. What I did not do was fully adopt the Greek, Hellenic, or Thracian mindsets in regards to Him. How could I? I had not studied them much, had not been intitiated into the Dionysian Mysteries, and this had been the first ritual in a very long time where I had been in His Presence. There are just some rituals I will attend where I will be an outsider to the tradition or the religion. So long as doing so would not breach hospitality or taboo(s) on mine or the host’s parts, it’s really up to the Gods, the Ancestors, the spirits, the tradition(s), and the celebrants/ritualists whether or not it is taboo for me to attend the rite.
It seems to me much of the issue people take with the words orthodoxy and orthopraxy is in two parts: the first is an emotional reaction to the words themselves, and the second part is in the feeling that orthodoxy and orthopraxy impose themselves rather than are a natural outgrowth of religious understanding and expression. Words sacred and holy, those have emotional weight to them, and where sacred or holy may have positive ones, at least for those coming out of monotheist religions, orthodoxy can have some heavy negative weight to it. Even in everyday speech, orthodoxy has acquired heavy baggage of being out of touch, wrong-headed, stubborn in the face of scientific evidence, or someone whose outlook refuses to change.
With many Pagans converting from or descendants of converts from monotheist or atheist homes, it’s no wonder some have taken a heavy stance against orthodoxy. I hear the refrain “I left (insert church, group, etc.) here to get away from dogma” and “I left (name) so I could follow my own path” often enough that I think these ideas need addressing as well.
Regardless of where one goes, if one is part of a religion there are orthodoxies, or dogmas, that are part of it. If there are no orthodoxies or dogmas, there is no religion. If you left a monotheist religion to avoid orthodoxy, you may as well quit religion altogether. Non-theist religions have orthodoxy and dogma in their own measures; it is one of the defining characteristics of religion. Religion is the bone upon which the sinew-connections of religious communities are made, and the flesh of spirituality is given form by.
Even in following one’s own path, there are often unspoken orthodoxies and orthopraxies that play into how we frame and understand our place in things, and the experiences we go through. If one starts as a Catholic, and begins exploring outside of Catholicism, as I did, Catholicism is the initial benchmark against which all things are weighed until the benchmark outgrows its usefulness or is actively cast aside. This helps to shape what experiences we may integrate, discount, or accept outright. The coloring of our lenses by our worldview(s) shapes how we come to explore a new path. Even if we, somehow, started from a totally fresh slate and began spiritual exploration, the people we might look to for guidance, physically, online, and/or in a book, and their associated orthodoxies, orthopraxies, etc. would impact our own.
This brings us to a phrase that makes me grit my teeth every time I hear it: “I’m spiritual, but not religious”.
I get the intention of this, generally speaking, but as a phrase it is wrong. As I wrote earlier, “Religion is the bone upon which the sinew-connections of religious communities are made, and the flesh of spirituality is given form by.” Spirituality cannot be without religion of some kind, even if one doesn’t have a name for it or doesn’t care to put it into a given identity. Orthodoxy gives shape to orthopraxy as religion gives shape to spirituality. Spirituality requires religion. Orthopraxy requires orthodoxy.
This is not a one-time thing, though. Orthodoxy and orthopraxy exist in a continuous, reciprocal relationship. They feed one another, grow together. Without one the other falls apart. The orthodoxy of a given polytheist religion feeds the orthopraxy of that religion. The practices of polytheism reinforces the thought and worldview that go into why we do what we do in the first place. It goes on, hand in hand between ourselves and the Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir. If the reciprocity, the Gebo of this is kept well, this reciprocity goes on, hand-in-hand between ourselves, the Holy Powers, and the future generations of animists, polytheists, and Pagans. By passing this on in a healthy way we ensure our communities and their relationships with the Holy Powers flourish.
Here are sources I consulted in exploring this: