Atheopaganism: An Earth-honoring path rooted in science

This, nonbelieving seeker, is for you.

It is for you in your search, in your intellectual integrity, in your joy and your frustration.

You’re not alone.

There is a way to marry the spiritual urge and the rational mind.

Let’s talk about it.

Special Thanks

This book is possible due to the support of Atheopaganism’s Patreon patrons, past and present:

Abby Pagan-Stocking

Amanda Rader

Andrea LeMeuse

Anonymous

Bethany Brittain

Carl Boone

Carrie Sessarego

Catherine Fountain

Deryn Harris

DJ Hamouris and Buffalo Brownson

Eric Steinhart

James Callegary

Jill Fagerstrom

Jonathan Weber

Katie Frooman

Kiki GardenGnome

Kimba Joy Theurich

Melissa Hope

Randy Pacheco

Sara and Evan Robinson

Sarah Phillips

Selene and Rene Vega

Steve Lewis

Tony Schlisser

My very deepest gratitude to you all.

Foreword by John Halstead

A quarter of a century ago, astrophysicist and science popularizer Carl Sagan wrote:

A religion, old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by contemporary science might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths. Sooner or later such a religion will emerge.¹

I believe Atheopaganism is a significant step toward the religion of the future described by Sagan.

***

I belong to two religious communities: Unitarian Universalism and Naturalistic Paganism. Unitarian Universalism is a religious denomination which includes atheists, Pagans, Buddhists, Christians, and others, all committed to a set of values which includes respect for the inherent worth of all people and for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are all a part. Naturalistic Paganism is a loose community of people who draw inspiration from the myths and rituals of ancient pagans and strive to create religious forms which are both intellectually honest and emotionally satisfying to modern people. Both Unitarian Universalism and Naturalistic Paganism are forms of what is called Religious Naturalism. Religious Naturalists look to the natural world and to themselves for meaning and morality, rather than to some transcendent heaven or supernatural being.

In my experience, naturalistic religions, like Unitarian Universalism and Naturalistic Paganism, often struggle to find the right balance between rationalism and religious ecstasy. Because we are in reaction to the supernaturalistic religions of our time, we sometimes end up throwing out the proverbial baby with the bathwater—the bathwater in this case being superstitious beliefs and empty observances and the baby being transformative religious experience. When we reject the literalism and pietism of theistic religion, we tend to lose a certain energy or enthusiasm², and without that energy, we can’t seem to sustain a religious movement. This has been true of Unitarian Universalists, who have been limping along since the time of the Transcendentalists, and it is true of much of Naturalistic Paganism as well. 

There have been many attempts to create a viable Naturalistic Pagan tradition. These include the Druidic Order of Naturalism, Toteg Tribe, Gaia Group, Panthea, and Ehoah. But none of them has lived up to its potential. Atheopaganism shows signs of being the exception. Atheopaganism is a naturalistic religion, but it avoids many of the pitfalls that other naturalistic religions fall into, and for that reason, I believe, it has the potential to successfully bring together the structure of rational naturalism and the energy of religious enthusiasm.

First of all, Atheopaganism is a practice, as much as it is a philosophy. Atheopagans embrace ritual. Number six of the thirteen Atheopagan Principles states, I enact regular ritual in observance of my religion.

In a 2015 Spectator article about the rise of modern Paganism, atheist Andrew Brown wrote that what separates successful religions is not demanding doctrine, but demanding practices, rituals and observances which saturate everyday life.³  I believe this, more than anything else, explains the decline of liberal religion over the past half century. There is a tendency among Religious Naturalists, like other religious liberals, to favor thinking about and talking about religion over the actual doing of religion. What religious practice they do have, tends to be limited and quite reserved. For some Religious Naturalists, the aversion to theistic religious forms is so strong, that they reject all ritual or symbolism. In extreme cases, even the lighting of candles and the singing of songs is eschewed.⁴

But ritual is a useful, and I believe essential, tool for Religious Naturalists. It can help us feel in our hearts and bodies, what we know in our minds—in a way that just talking does not. As Mark Green explains on the Atheopaganism blog:

"We do ritual because humans are ritualizing organisms. We have been ritualizing the important moments and meanings of our lives since before we were fully human. Denying this, pretending that we have somehow transcended the manifold natures of our evolved brains to focus only on the ‘thinky’ parts, is to deny the factual nature of the human experience.

"We are still the creatures who painted the powerful and desirable/huntable creatures of their landscape upon cave walls, who left the prints of their hands in the caves to say, ‘I was here.’

And it is through ritual, even today, that we create memorable moments of power and meaning. That we connect with our deepest selves, and each other.⁵

This embrace of ritual is what distinguishes Atheopaganism from many other naturalistic religions.

Another thing that distinguishes Atheopaganism is its embrace of ecstatic experience. Ecstatic rituals are intended to bring about a shift in our consciousness, from a state of existential disconnection to one of radical interconnectedness. This is accomplished by using ritual techniques like drumming, altered breathing, chanting, singing, and dancing. These techniques involve rhythmic behaviors that have a scientifically predictable effect on the human brain. Aesthetics like fire, candles, incense, music, and poetry also help shift our consciousness. Atheopagan ritual combines this neurological effect with sacred content like myths and religious imagery.

When a ritual works, the participants are able to temporarily silence the thinking or talking part of their mind and give themselves over wholly to their embodied experience. Some Neo-Pagans call this state trance. Mark Green refers to it as the Ritual State. Once this state is achieved, we may experience a deeper sense of connection with our bodies, with the physical Earth, and with our human and other-than-human kin.⁶

But many Religious Naturalists are deeply uncomfortable with ecstatic experience, as it involves a degree of disassociation from the intellective faculties. Atheopagans, however, understand the proper place for ecstatic experience. Again, Mark Green explains:

"I am the product of centuries of European cultural ‘bleaching out’ of human wildness in favor of manners, rectitude, forbearance, privacy, and shame. Of steady alienation from the body in favor of the mind. … Underneath all that, though, I am what we all are: an animal.

"Yes, an animal. A thinking one, but an animal nonetheless, who eats and shits and sweats and fucks.

"And as I get older, I find I treasure more and more the times when I can experience my animal self. Singing. Dancing. Howling at the moon.

"In ritual, there are techniques that make it easier. …

"There is great joy in living in the animal self for a time, such as dancing around a fire to the beat of drums. It’s a challenge, for bleached-out men like me, getting to that animal self and honoring it.

"But I try, and I encourage you to try, too.

"Own your animal. Feel the breath going in, the happy surge of blood sugar as you eat on an empty stomach. Indulge the urge to howl at the moon, to dance about the fire. Find a way to get outside naked, and feel the sun on your skin. Run your hands over your body.

"Feel that you are an animal, here on planet Earth, not only thinking and wondering at the glory of what we can understand, but grunting and snuffling through the underbrush for something delicious and sustaining.

Both are true. Both are what we are. Celebrate it.⁷

Last but not least, Atheopaganism strives for community.  While Atheopagans can practice alone, ideally their will find each other and build communities around their shared values and practices. Religious Naturalists are iconoclasts and rebels, which can make forming community challenging.  But the cultivation of community—physical, not virtual, community—is critical, because group rituals offer greater potential for achieving ecstatic transformation than do rituals performed alone. This is part of the reason that Religious Naturalists are suspicious of participation in groups … and it is the very reason we need them. Our fear of group-think often stands in the way of those experiences which have little to do with rationality.

Mark Green has worked tirelessly to foster community among non-theistic Pagans, both online and in real life. He organized gatherings for non-theistic Pagans (both official and unofficial) at Pantheacon, which is the largest annual Pagan conference. He created and moderates an online community of over 1,500 people interested in Atheopaganism. And he organizes in-person and online events to celebrate the solstices, equinoxes, and cross-quarter days. He’s even begun an online course in Atheopagan theory and practice, called Atheopaganism U. And now, he has written this book.

In December 2018, an opinion piece appeared in the New York Times entitled, The Return of Paganism. The author, Ross Douthat, is a Catholic and a regular conservative voice at the Times. Douthat asks what it would take for paganism⁸ to really become a challenge to the Christian hegemony. He concludes … 

To get a fully revived paganism in contemporary America …. the philosophers of pantheism and civil religion would need to build a religious bridge to the New Agers and neo-pagans, and together they would need to create a more fully realized cult of the immanent divine, an actual way to worship, not just to appreciate, the pantheistic order they discern.⁹

Whatever I might think of Douthat’s politics or his religiosity, I agree with his conclusion. If contemporary Paganism is ever to become a cultural force, we must build a bridge between philosophical naturalism and political progressivism, on the one hand, and that atavistic religious sensibility which is our inheritance as human beings and which finds expression in rituals and celebrations that are an organic response to the natural world. This is what Atheopaganism strives to be.

What Mark Green has accomplished is amazing. He has created a coherent religious system, devoid of theistic language or symbolism, but emotionally compelling—as the many people who call themselves Atheopagans can attest. But the true test of Atheopaganism has yet to come. It is the test of all new religious movements: Can they survive without their founder? I don’t expect Mark will be going anywhere anytime soon, so the Atheopagan community has time … time to build the communal structures which will help it survive into the future. And this book will be an essential tool in that work.

— John Halstead, Sept. 2019

Ritual for Atheists: A Note of Encouragement

This is directed to our friends in the atheist/skeptic community. Thanks for checking out Atheopaganism!

I want you to know that I know: it feels a bit silly to start with.

When you first start doing Atheopagan rituals as an atheist who has never had a religious practice, it feels contrived and hokey and uncomfortable. It can also feel good, but the discomfort often undermines the sense of rightness or meaning rituals can bring.

I know, because I went through it. It’s been nearly 30 years now, but I remember only too well how uncomfortable I was when first confronted with standing in a circle holding hands, talking in flowery language to invisible Presences, drumming and dancing…all of it, the whole megillah.

The challenge for atheists who move in the direction of ritual observances is that the atheist/skeptic community lauds the analytical part of the brain, and many atheists are accustomed to living there as much as they can. And that is the exact part of the brain you want largely to turn off during ritual.

Now, Atheopaganism makes it somewhat easier for you. As far as we’re concerned, there aren’t any invisible Presences, and personally, I avoid unnecessarily flowery language: inspirational poetry is one thing; lobbing lofty thees and thous all over the place is just…awkward.

Where I’m going with this, fellow atheists, is to encourage you to keep going. Being able to relax and surrender into the Ritual State is a learned skill; it gets easier. And the rewards are tremendous.

Ritual practice can open a whole new dimension to life that is filled with meaning, kindness, joy, love and emotional healing. It can make us wiser and better people.

So take a deep breath, and begin. Do solitary rituals so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. Then work with your family, or a friend.

And try to keep a straight face. It won’t be too long before the thought of rolling your eyes never even occurs to you.

PART I: A LONG, STRANGE TRIP

My Journey to and Through Modern Neopaganism

Becoming a Pagan

I was raised as a rational materialist*, in the household of a scientist and a medical professional.  I learned curiosity and a thirst for knowledge early on.  The Universe was filled with intricate, fascinating, knowable and discoverable things which behaved according to laws.  I wasn't so much an atheist as a non-theist; the idea that gods might exist was about as germane to modern life, in my thinking, as pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone.  It wasn't until middle school that it came to my attention that there were a lot of churches around, and people actually believed in God.  The thought was beyond quaint:  it was preposterous.

In 1987, at 25, I was invited by a friend to a gathering of his Pagan co-celebrants to mark the autumnal equinox.  I went, and was deeply uncomfortable with the standing-in-a-circle-holding-hands, talking-to-invisible-presences stuff, yet I was also intrigued.  The color, pageantry and feeling of symbolic enactment of connection to the forces of nature struck a deep chord in me, opened a poetic, glowing, non-linear state in me that was pleasurable—it felt right (and True) to acknowledge connection to the natural forces from which we evolved and through which we are able to eat, breathe and survive.  Unlike the other religious practices I'd heard of, which struck