Heathen's Lair

Children of the Gods

Alter Setup
Past, Present, Future
Make A real difference come out of the broom closet
Bringing ritual into your every day life
America is under Attack!!
A Christian Speaks of Wicca and Witchcraft
The Goddess
The Old Ones Live in New Things Too
The Quest For Power
The Religious Experience: A Wiccan Viewpoint
The Rose
The Skeptical Witch
There Are More Religions in America Than Just Christianity
This Shall Not Be!
To Heal or Not to Heal?
Values in the Balance
Views of Deity
We Are the Other People
Weight of the World
What is drawing down the moon and how do you do it?
Where Did Magick Originate?
Wicca: It's Traditions and Concepts
Wicca and Body Image
Wiccan Basics - What is Magick?
The Celtic Vedic Connection
The Dichotomy Between Sex and Faith
The First Congregational Church of Wicca[credits]
The Fundamentalist's Problem[credits]
The God of the Witches
The 'W' Word (Witch), What Does it Mean?
The Delicate Balance of Pagan Ethics
Safety With Herbs in Healing and Magick
So What is a Blue Moon
Spiritual Conception
Synaesthesia: The Crossing of the Senses
Talking to Goddess
Saturday Morning Cartoons Aren't Pagan-Friendly
Polyamory: Loving Unlimited
Principles of Wiccan Belief
Responses to Nasty Fundies
Ritual - Expression of Will, Art and Creativity
Ritual and Ritual Preparation
Rituals, invocations and sacred space
Pledge to Pagan Spirituality
Irish Witches
Jesus Christ! Youre acting like one of those Christians
Magick and Science
Modern Pagan Persecutions
Music and Magic
Namaste - Meaning and Usage
Nipping Trouble in the Bud: Community and Child Custody Issues Affecting Heathens
Obedience: On Being Sheep
On the heaviness of weight
Our Pagan Village: The Importance and Persuit of Honor
Pagan Fundamentalists
Pagan Musings
Pagan Mythology
Pagan Sexuality and Sexual Freedom
How to find a Coven or Group
Howling at the Moon!
I am Pagan
In Nomine Babalon: Sacred Whoredom in a Thelemic Context
Ethics In Magick
Experiences of a Pagan Practicing Pranic Healing
From Agape to Praxis: The Fourfold Nature of Love
From Self-Doubt to Self-Assurance: The Inner Journey of The Fool
Grounding and Shielding
Healing Routine: How to setup a Healing Ritual
Ethics Or Etiquette
Everyday is Sacred
Crossing Lines
Descent Into Confusion
Disease and The Creative Process in Magick
Can you be a Christian and a Witch???
Creative Visualization and Wicca
Can You Bhoga All Night Long?
Consciousness & Politics
Children of the Gods
Building Shadows
Blood Sacrifice
Chingle Hall
Chinese Dragons
Absent Healing
All One People
An Earth Religion
An Open Letter To The Pagan Community
An Opinion on Magick
An Overview of Clairvoyance
Are there such things as White Witches?
Christianity vs. Paganism: Why?
Come Out Come Out Wherever You Are!
Coming Out as a Witch at Work
Coming Out of the Broom Closet
Asatru, an Ancient Religion Reborn
Aspects of Religion: A Wiccan Viewpoint
Comming Out
Bambi Pagans
A cup of Hemlock
Astronomy in Ancient Civilisations
Being Jewish And Wiccan { One Women's View }

Crimson's Favorite Articles

Children of the Gods[credits]

by Robin Woodsong


Muslim stood with Jew, Pagan with Christian, Hindu with atheist, all protesting injustice, all making a stand as one people against hate. Downtown Denver was alive with a multi-hued tapestry of people, joined together in tragedy, and hope.

A Denver police officer was dead, shot by a skinhead. A few days later a dead pig, with the name of the slain policeman scrawled across it, was thrown out of a speeding car in front of the officer's home precinct. The obscene drama continued when two skinheads taunted, and then murdered a black African immigrant., then shot through the spine a white woman who came to the dying man's aid.

Hate. Hate bred of insecurity. Hate bred of fear. Unreasoning fury against the other, the different, the divergent. Fury carefully nurtured in racist writings, racist music, racist gatherings which look back to the ovens of Auschwitz and Dachau with tender longings.

Nausea rises in me as I read the skinhead's confession. The skinhead relates his pride in the murder, his pride in the white race. Nauseated, because he no longer has human emotions, but is an emotionally dead thing motivated by hate. Nauseated because, as a young man, I might have taken his path.

Having spent most of my young life growing up in Europe, I didn't meet a person of color until I returned to the states and started junior high. My new, white, friends would call the White Power Line after school. A recorded diatribe about the ignorant nigger apes who would drag chaste white women into dark alleys to rape and sodomize them. I took in this new information with a mixture of gullibility and dark delight.

I learned that Jews were behind an international conspiracy to corrupt the Aryan people into race-mixed slaves. I learned that the Holocaust never happened, and that it should happen again.

In my sophomore year I got my first job, working part-time in a government warehouse. As I walked in for my first day I was shocked and appalled. My boss was black, my co-workers were black, I was the only white working there. I was afraid to go back into the warehouse thinking someone would cut the honky's throat with a straight razor. Soon however, I joined in their laughter, drinking my first beer with co-workers on the back dock after work, taking my first toke of marijuana with the young men in the alley behind the warehouse. Soon it was no longer them – but us. It was shock therapy for a budding racist, and I thank the Gods for it.

But the Gods were not done with me and my education continued on a different track.

In college I was introduced to Jesus Christ as my personal savior. We were God's chosen people, all others were destined to burn in hellfire for eternity. The Jews, the Muslims, the Pagans, the Hindus and all others were corrupt, sinful, in rebellion against the One True God. We were God's army, and I dedicated my life to fighting their Satanic doctrines.

I studied Judaism, so I could convert Jews. I studied Islam, so I could convert Muslims. I studied the occult, so I could convert Witches. I catalogued errors, deviations from the One True Way. But in their writings I found wisdom, which was unexpected. I found joy, which was baffling. I found moral courage, which was perplexing. I found truth, and that shook my faith.

I came to understand that these were not Satan's minions dedicated to bringing on the reign of the Anti-Christ. These were fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, uncles and cousins who lived, loved and strove for truth and justice each in their own way, using their own values and beliefs.

I realized I had simply substituted my intolerance against people of color for an intolerance against non-Christians. In my longing to belong I had again defined most of the world as other, as inferior, as profane.

When we define what is sacred, we define what is profane. All is sacred, all are part of the everlasting dance of the cosmos. We are made of the stuff of the stars, looking back at the cosmos, back at ourselves, with delight and joy.

Racism and religious intolerance is not about the other, the outsider. It's about each of us – our fears, insecurities, our longing to belong, to be safe, to be loved.

In the church we stand together and promote a new age of harmony. A man stands next to me. His skin is black as ink, black as a starless sky. Around the church people begin to join hands. I am momentarily hesitant - leftover remnants of years of training in hatred. As I reach for his hand, he turns to me, smiles and takes my hand in his own. I recognize him now, he is my father, my brother, my son. We are brothers joined in a common cause. To change the world one soul - one decision - at a time. A decision that I will treat all peoples with the respect and dignity they deserve as children of the Gods.