In thinking about faith systems like Druidry, Asatru, and (Neo)paganism in general, the issue of Reconstructionism comes up. It seems to me that there is a kind of dogmatic rift among Neopagans between the Reconstructionists and the whatever-you-call-the-others. In Druidry the term is usually Revivalists, but that has a specific meaning to Druidry that doesn’t necessarily correspond to other branches of Neopaganism. For the sake of discussion, I am going to call them Contemporists.
Reconstructionism as I understand it means a good faith attempt to actually reconstruct an ancient religious belief system. In practice it probably isn’t completely possible (since most ancient peoples didn’t leave detailed written records of their theological bliefs and a how-to-manual for their rites and practices). Therefore, Reconstructionists are generally willing to “fill in the blanks” with contemporary or invented practices or ideas, with the understanding that such a practice or belief is a provisional place-holder and is subject to change as more historical information is uncovered. Reconstructionist religion tends to go hand-in-hand with a keen interest in history. Good examples of reconstructionist Neopagan faith systems are Asatru and Ár nDraíocht Féin Druidry.
On the other hand, Contemporist faith systems (like Wicca or Revival Druidry) are those that are inspired by ancient belief, myth, and practice, but that have (relatively) contemporary origins. Their practices and beliefs seem more likely to be syncretic, and Contemporists seem generally open to innovation in both theology and practice.
Reconstructionists often accuse Contemporists of having a “made-up religion.” As a teenager, my Neopagan interests were strictly reconstructionist, and I looked with serious disdain on belief systems like Wicca. The irony of course was that I was raised Mormon, which by any measure other than that of the hardcore true believer is a contemporary “made up” religion as well. Nevertheless, I was raised to believe that Mormonism was an ancient faith that had een restored, and my preconceived notions about absolute truth precluded me from accepting religious innovation as valid in any way.
Now, I see things differently. In fact, these days I have no interest in reconstructionism whatsoever. I understand that it floats some peoples’ boats, but not mine. Here’s why:
1) I don’t believe that full reconstruction is really possible, and that some things are simply lost to the mists of time. Thus, a reconstructionist, no matter how zealous, will always be complementing his “authentic” practices with contemporary innovations or borrowed material. So for practical purposes, only his attitude makes him different from the Contemporist.
2) That attitude means the reconstructionist must be willing to abandon what may be useful and meaningful spiritual practices and belifs when they are later discovered to not be in conformity with ancient religion. To me this seems a pointless waste: if something works, don’t stop doing it. A spiritual practice’s validity has nothing to do with age, but with whether or not it works. Every religion was “made up” at one point or another, and the fact that it was made up a long time ago or its author is anonymous doesn’t make it osmehow more real or more valid. Granted, if a spiritual practice has been in continuous use for a long period of time, you can infer a high degree of validity because it has stood the test of time. However, an old practice/belief that is not longer held or is long abandoned may no longer be useful–that may be why it was abandoned in the first place. Either it was no longer useful, or it was supplanted by something else more useful.
3) I’m not an ancient person. I don’t live in the Bronze Age. My life isn’t the same, my concerns may not be the same, and the world I live in may be very different from that of ancient people. What they practiced and believed may have been relevant to them, but that doesn’t mean it is relevant to all people in all situations, and that means it may very well not be relevant to me. Although I have no problem with drawing on ancient sources for beliefs and practices, I see no reason at all to assume that the ancient practices will always be better for me than a more contemporary alternative, especially when the study of history means that that ancient practice would itself be provisional, subject to change, revision, and even dismissal as our historical picture is fine-tuned.
4) I personally see no real need to believe in a Reconstructionist religion if I don’t believe that said religion was absolutely, objectively true. And I don’t believe that any existing religion is absolutely, objectively true, or that it’s even possible for human beings to ever be compeltely sure of what absolute, objective truth is. I will grant that it probably exists, but it seems to me that the nature of epistemology means that asically everything must be subject to doubt.
5) I feel no personal pull to practice or believe in a Reconstructionist religion. I haven’t had a mystical experience with ancient deities where they commanded me to take back up the old ways (and as I don’t really believe in literal personal gods anyway, I don’t really think that such a demand on the part of the gods is likely). I am not a historian who specializes in one particular ancient people to such a degree that it fills my life. Honestly, if I practiced a reconstructionist religion, I think I’d always feel like I was LARPing.
Sailing to Byzantium 
This raises the question of how you balance with the inherent human need for continuity with one’s ancestors or forebears. We seem to treasure that connection and are reluctant to burn all bridges with the past.
Another reason for reconstructionalism might be the idea that it’s wasteful to reinvent the wheel.
Why are one’s forebears from 2,000 years ago somehow more compelling than the ones from the last two centuries? And who said something about burning all bridges with the past? You mistake my meaning–I’m not suggesting that newer is inherently better than older any more than I am suggesting the opposite.
Seth,
While I don’t think this is the point of Kullervo’s blog post at all, I disagree that there is an inherent NEED for continuity with one’s ancestors. I would even go so far as to say that it’s not a universal WANT.
Yeah, but Mormonism teaches that there is indeed such a need, which is the “hearts of the children turning to their fathers” which was awakened (awoken?) when Elijah appeared at the Kirtland temple.
I also see the problem with the notion that there ever was any true pagan orthodoxy. I think if you plopped down into the bronze age you’d be hard pressed to find a universal system.
I feel the same frustration towards the idea of a reconstructed Christianity. In fact my hanging on to the idea that we can “get back” to an original, untainted, universally accepted Christianity is something that has kept me back from sticking with (and feeling comfortable in) the Christian faith. I was always trying to “depaganize” and “historical Jesus-ize” my beliefs. Truth is, we just can’t do it. The Church fathers seemed to get that to some degree.
Tim,
Ya think? 🙂
I agree completely. Generally speaking, pagan religions were/are localized to cultures and regions – that’s one of the biggest differences between them and “universalizing” religions such as Christianity and Buddhism (and, I would argue, much of what passes for Wicca today).
Well, Wicca’s definitely a contemporary religion.
Yes. That was an afterthought that actually didn’t belong there, in retrospect. I was *trying* to say that in the sense of being more universalizing, Wicca is actually closer to Christianity – Protestant Christianity, to be specific – than to traditional or Reconstructionist pagan religions… but I failed.
On a different note, I just finished a book you might enjoy – “The Year of Living Biblically”, by A. J. Jacobs. The author is a secular Jew who decided to spend a year (eight months on the Old Testament, four on the New) trying to live as biblically literal a life as possible. It’s frequently funny, and sometimes surprisingly moving. I just finished it a few minutes ago, and there’s a passage at the end that I particularly wanted to share with you:
“I’m now a reverent agnostic. Which isn’t an oxymoron, I swear. I now believe that whether or not there’s a God, there’s such a thing as sacredness. Life is sacred. The Sabbath can be a sacred day. Prayer can be a sacred ritual. There is something transcendent, beyond the everyday. It’s possible that humans created this sacredness ourselves, but that doesn’t take away from its power or importance.”
I like your comments, executivepagan.
I can see Seth’s point, though, whether we take it as absolute or not. The desire to reconnect to one’s (pre-proselytized) ancestors can be compelling whether or not it is for everyone. But that connection is, I believe, quite impossible. Our ancestors would have evolved to become something different than they were and different than we are without Christianity. What that is, we can only imagine. In other words, the “damage” is quite complete and the idea of us as ideological and religious inheritors of our pagan ancestors is only a wet dream. To choose a snapshot out (obsolete?) historical paganism from some more-or-less specific period of history seems implacably weird to me.
This does, of course, leave the “contemporist” religions potentially relevant to me.
Likewise, there is always Christianity. I liked Kay’s comment. After all, is the spirit of God was moving among his people all along, how is it that they could have strayed in the essentials anyway? Any argument for retroconstructed Christianity potentially denies its own lineage and thus its authority.
ADF is not really a Reconstructionist organization. When I was involved in ADF there was a rift between the Reconstructionists and the Neopagan side of the organization. They pull from the Reconstructionist tradition, but are not exclusively Reconstructionist.
I agree with much of what you wrote here. I’m involved in a Reconstructionist organization (Nova Roma), and it is problematic trying to effectively reconstruct an ancient system of things in our modern environment. Reconstruction is possible, but is more effective, I believe, when approached as an evolution and not as a “screen shot” into the past.
Reconstructionists do not just “fill in the blanks with contemporary or invented practices or ideas.” What is done is a scholarly comparative analysis of similar cultures (surviving or otherwise) to create the most plausible conclusions. Reconstructionism also does not attempt a “full reconstruction” of the source culture, but a modern adaptation without arbitrarily discarding beliefs and practice.
…and David is correct. The ADF identifies itself as a Reconstructionist religion, but what it strives to create is a universal Indo-European religion.
What do you call “made up” religions based on imaginative fiction, like the cult of Yog Sothoth, for example?
Somethig else entirely.
Hi Kullervo,
Thanks for the link to your previous post. This is Jason from your “Narrowing Down the Issues” post. I really liked the point about “only [a Reconstructionist’s] attitude makes him different from the Contemporist.”
Although I think we both agree that the terminology is ill-defined, I would disagree with the categorization of ADF as a strictly Reconstructionist organization. ADF is dedicated to bringing back the “best aspects of the Paleopagan faiths of our ancestors within a modern scientific, artistic, ecological, and wholistic context.” That doesn’t mean we use as placeholders the beliefs and customs we create that are independent of what our ancestors believed. Rather, when confronted with new information, we are presented with multiple opportunities for incorporation into our individual or Grove practices.
For example, say I didn’t know that some Ancient Greeks drowned horses in bodies of water as offerings to Poseidon. Upon reading the offending sentence in Walter Burkert’s “Greek Religion,” a member of ADF would not immediately decide to incorporate ritual drowning of live animals into his next ritual. First, ADF doesn’t perform physical sacrifices of live animals, but we could do many things, like contemplate/meditate on the question or pay homage to our ancestor’s practices by submerging a toy horse in a bucket or some other symbolic practice. We could also simply ask Poseidon for his opinion through divination or mystical means. Finally, we could just ignore the question if incorporating it didn’t add significantly to our practice.
ADF members create new rituals, liturgies, and methods all the time, striking a balance between inspiration and academic rigor. Also, ADF is pan-Indo-European in cultural focus, which makes it different than most Reconstructionist religions and most other forms of Druidry. ADF leaders and members also make no claim to infallibility on Truth and do not seek to set limits on personal religious practices for anyone, only to define what rituals and beliefs can or cannot be called “ADF-style” (i.e. fit within the corpus of ADF religion) and provide a framework for positive growth.
Lastly, I disagree with the wording in alexandt’s comment where “what [ADF] strives to create is a universal Indo-European religion.” We are creating multiple religions, not one. ADF religions and traditions are connected through ritual but are materially different from each other in belief. Thus we define ourselves as an “orthopraxy” and not an orthodoxy. As polytheists, we believe in the multiplicity of religious truth, and as an ADF member you are free to be as agnostic or as whole-hearted as you like while developing your own belief system.