The Gods Are Not Distant
I’ve spent a lot of time of late, here on this blog, focusing on history and scholastics, but today, I want to speak from my heart. The Havamal tells us:
Hugr (the “inner self”) alone knows, that which lives near the heart (hjarta),
–Havamal 95, Connla Freyjason Translation
A man is alone with his own spirit (literally: “deepest mind”; “souls” is implied);
Narrowness is the worst disease to wise men
And by itself nothing near contentment/happiness.
My heart knows that the Gods are not distant, but near to us every day, in every way. Yet, there are those in the modern American Heathen community who would have us believe that They could care less about our “petty human problems”, and that for any real help, we should rely solely on the Ancestors or the Invisible Population (Landvaettir, Husvaettir, etc.). I’ve talked a lot in the past about why lies such as this exist, and how they are intrinsically related to the infection called narrowness, but today that is infinitely less important to me than the simple fact of what I know: the Gods are not distant; They are right there, and They do and are listening; They do care.
Last week, a friend of ours sustained injuries in a car accident that, according to their doctors, are normally fatal. Yet those in their community rallied together in a conspiracy of love, offering prayers and spellwork based in whatever paths were personally followed, and as of today, our friend is off the ventilator, conscious, talking, and on the road to recovery. The Gods listened; the Gods cared.
Another of my nearest and dearest friends was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She told me the news in the same nonchalant, matter-of-fact way one might comment on the weather. The source of her nonchalance? She knows as I do: the Gods are not distant. Their presence in her life is how she knows she is going to get through this; how she knows she is going to triumph, one way or another. She knows They are listening; she knows They care.
Today, I woke up with pain in my left hip that is positively mind-bending, with no apparent reason for its existence. The left side of my rear end is officially two times larger than the right side of my rear end, and as that is the portion of the body on which one sits, the pain has made sitting here in this chair pretty unpleasant. This comes in the aftermath of two weeks of apparent walking pneumonia and bronchitis, followed by jaw pain which is apparently due to alveolar necrosis. In short: it’s been a rough few weeks. Yet, here I sit, writing this, and how? Because the Gods are not distant; They do listen, and They do care. If They are going to “show up” consistently, I should, too, whenever I’m able.
There’s this little thing called “faith” which is consistently eschewed in the modern American Heathen community, yet formed the very foundation of the lives of our Cultural Ancestors of the Iron Age and after. That I actually have it is the only way I am able to keep going; as a point of historical fact, it’s likely the only way those ancestors kept going as well, especially when facing down the “Little Ice Age” which apparently rang in the period many have come to call the Dark Ages, or setting sail across oceans that had the very real (in their minds) addendum: “Here there be monsters”. Until we reclaim this concept–the concept of faith–this religious trip that we’re attempting to go on will simply continue to be a series of fruitless reenactments, largely based on an assumed history which patently didn’t exist. Until we re-embrace faith, the modern American Heathen community is going to remain a group of cynical curmudgeons seeking power trips, instead of peace.
How does one re-embrace something so ineffable and fundamental as faith? In truth, my own was shattered a couple of years ago; that is how I came to Freyja’s feet in the first place. Yours may likewise be shattered, and the gravity of that should not be underestimated, or glossed-over, or in any other way lessened. You are not “less-than”, because of shattered faith; those who shattered your faith are. Climbing back up the proverbial mountain to reclaim and regain faith can feel like an Everest-level task; Herculean, even. Thus it may seem trite or ridiculous that true faith actually resides in the simplest of things: the witness of every day miracles. The sun rose again this morning? Sunna smiles. The sea followed its pattern of ebb and flow? Ran and Aegir are dancing in Their Hall. The tree outside your window still waves in the wind? Njordr sends His greetings of peace and good seasons.
When the world has brought us to our knees, sometimes the most valuable thing we can do is stay on them and know that we are not alone. That is both the simplicity and complexity of faith. Over the course of the last two weeks, I have literally witnessed that it can, indeed, move mountains. I have often heard it said that “faith that can be proved is not faith at all”, but I disagree: faith that can be proved is called conviction, and I finally have that again. I fervently hope the same for all of you.
