Failure…

No, I’m not the first polytheist to attempt establishing a calendar of festivals for myself, only to find that I’ve forgotten one (or two, or three…) because things in the day get to be too difficult.

However, I’m really not happy about the two I’m about to discuss, for a variety of reasons.

The first is a simple question of ignorance on my part–though ignorance is no excuse, by any means. I kept having a nagging feeling in the back of my head I was missing a day for an important Sanctus, in fact an important Divus, but because there are a thousand things to keep up with in daily life, other projects, devotions that seem more important in one moment than in another, I kept putting off looking up the relevant information, which would have taken a few minutes at most. The Divus in question is Divus Lucius Verus, son of Divus Aelius Caesar, who was co-emperor with Divus Marcus Aurelius for a number of years before he died. I mentioned recently that I acquired some coins that I was able to use for devotional purposes in relation to Aelius Caesar on his death-date, and which will also come in handy on his birth-date tomorrow. On that same occasion, I also obtained a coin for Lucius Verus. It did not arrive in time for me to use it on Lucius Verus’ dies natalis on December 15. Not only should I have at least done something on that day, though, but his death-date was around the end of December or beginning of January–no source I can find gives a definite date, but it was about five days after “midwinter” (according to Roman reckoning, December 25), which would put it right around the same time that his father Aelius Caesar died. So, I forgot his birth and his death…damn.

Therefore, I ask for his indulgence and his forgiveness, and I apologize for having made this careless and ignorant omission.

Divo Lucio Vero veniam dare et excusare supplico!

[The above is an image of a coin commemorating Divus Lucius Verus' apotheosis, "CONSECRATIO".]

However, the omission/failure which follows is even worse, in my opinion.

One of the best uses for oracles–and I mean actual people devoted to a deity who perform oracular work on their behalf through directly interacting with them, not through tarot cards, runes, and the like–both now and in history, has been for guidance on religious matters. Who should be given hero-cultus? What practice should be adopted to avert a plague or an invasion? What god is involved in this particular situation? And so forth. There are a number of people who are doing “classical” types of oracular work today, and offering this type of service. One such person is my good and dear friend Sannion (gosh, he’s getting a lot of airtime on this blog lately, isn’t he?), who does a monthly Dionysos Day Oracle session as part of his regular practices. I’ve utilized this source of insight and guidance on a number of occasions, most fruitfully (I would hasten to add!), in particular relation to questions of religion and spirituality. In October, I asked Dionysos a question about when to commemorate Pan and the Panantinous syncretism, which I had hoped to do sometime in early January for a variety of reasons. There was a holiday that I used to observe on the 11th of January (yesterday), but due to various reasons moved its primary significance to the 29th of January a few years ago (and I’ll speak more about that holiday when we get to it later in the month). So, I thought perhaps it would be good to have the Pan/Panantinous festival then. Another possibility was January 6. I offered these in question to Dionysos, and this was the response I got:

Dionysos said:

The sixth is better than the eleventh, though it is a hollow day. The eleventh is too busy to be useful, though you do not yet understand why. What of the eighth? It is both full and meaningful, though there is no precedent for it.

So, that settled it–January 8 it should have been. And, I missed it. Damn myself…

But, he certainly was right. January 11th was busy, and I had no notion why in October. What about January 8, though? What happened then? I posted about The Eleventh Muse (an occasion which had me dancing like a fool), and about some weird Antinous art. And there was also a national disaster involving an attempted assassination of a congresswoman, and the successful collateral murder of six and injuring of thirteen others.

What message is there in this? Well, I was dancing before the disaster…and what about after? What of Pan is there in either of these things? Pan is certainly one of the “dancing gods” par excellence. But, what Pan is perhaps more known for even than his ability to dance and to inspire others to do so is where his name survives in English to this day: panic, that irrational fear and practical possession and enthrallment to terror that can suddenly strike without warning. Whether I was seeking it or not, I (and many others across the U.S.) ended up having a deep and extreme experience of panic on that day. Not something that is particularly pleasant, to be certain…

On occasions like this, it is not good to either seek to blame the gods, or to deride ourselves for failing to do rituals and in some inadvertent manner then “causing” such disasters–it happened in the morning, long before I would have considered doing any ritual activity anyway by my preferred methods of doing such. If I were to slip into this logic (though the temptation is certainly there), not only would I risk serious delusions of grandeur that border on the worst type of spiritual solipsism, but I’d also end up looking like certain other people I’ve lampooned recently, and I really want to avoid that at all costs if possible. However, that does not excuse me from my devotional duties and priorities…

So, I’ve learned my lesson, and will remember January 8 ever after as a day on which the good influences and blessings of Pan ought to be sought, no matter what–for the aversion of panic as well as for the gift of joyous music and dancing. Indeed, both Sannion and T. Thorn Coyle got this message in a way I almost entirely missed on that day (and the days after) with the following clip:

Therefore, kudos to both of them for actually being attentive exemplars of practice-in-action and brilliant channels of the influences of the gods, which some of us (i.e. me) were too inattentive to realize at the time.

I would now like to talk a little bit about Pan, and offer all of you (and Pan and Antinous) a poem I wrote, that will be in the Bibliotheca Alexandrina devotional anthology for Pan in the coming months, as a paltry and inadequate but “at least something” attempt to publicly atone for my failure in this case.

One of the first deity-image statues I obtained in my modern pagan practice was a gift from a friend of mine, who went to Greece on a field trip with her class. It was a small, kneeling, white, ithyphallic statue of Pan (or just a general satyr, perhaps, as the above also is), cheap and mass-produced for tourists, but very charming and wonderful for all that; and while I really liked it, I also kept it hidden for years and years because I didn’t want some unsuspecting person (like my mom!) to see it. Sometime in the period of 1998-2000, it disappeared, and I have not been able to find it since–it may very well be in a box somewhere in my storage unit, and I sincerely hope that it is, and that I’ll happily and triumphantly rediscover him at some point in the future, so that I can fully and properly honor him on my shrine next to Antinous, Dionysos, and the many other gods honored there with images.

So, until then, I shall do my best to honor Pan in other ways in the future–including at PantheaCon next month, when I will be portraying him in the sacred drama at our ritual–and for the moment, I offer the following poem.

Panantinous

The ships of Arcadia
go safely across seas
storm-tossed and treacherous
with protection at their prow.

The gods of Arcadia
that protect travelers
like shepherds over sheep
on rustic hillsides.

The sons of Arcadia
in Mantineia’s city
who hunt like wolves
in mountainous forests.

The voices of Arcadia
that instill fear
amidst battle’s roar,
that shake Hades’ gates.

The dancers of Arcadia
wild on the plains
with pipes shrieking
and footsteps like rainfall.

The waters of Arcadia
that drown the careless,
that yield diverse fish
and wash the seashore.

The symbols of Arcadia,
gods and heroes alike,
sons of Hermes,
Pan and Antinous together.

Panantinous, Arcadian god,
protect this ship
and its cargo and crew
from Poseidon’s waves.

*****
I entreat the forgiveness, the pardon, and the indulgence of Divus Lucius Verus, of Pan, and of Antinous, therefore, and will strive to my utmost to not neglect their devotion through distraction, overwork, or ignorance in the future.