A Transgender Lesbian Who Embraced Polytheism

Editor’s Note: This article previously appeared in a different format as part of The Atlantic’s Notes section, retired in 2021.

That’s a perspective we haven’t heard from yet. Here’s Lily:

I’ve been really enjoying your reader series on Millennials and religious choice. I suspect a lot of us—alienated economically and politically as well as from dominant forms of religion—are starting to engage with these questions in a more existential way.

I’m a 26-year-old lesbian trans woman. I was raised in a right-wing corner of Texas Episcopalianism just around the time that church was facing schism over the openly gay Gene Robinson’s consecration as a bishop. [CB note: Robinson is profiled in the above video, featured by our video team earlier this year.] I grew up imbued with a worldview full of moral absolutes, with little middle ground between good and evil.

My biggest religious choice involved letting go the notion of all-or-nothing universal standards and instead embrace the value of relationship and community. I left Christianity as a teenager due to my parish’s anti-LGBT teachings and family’s intolerance. However, I kept the absolutist sensibility, becoming a hardline, Dawkins-quoting atheist. Even with different ideological content, anything short of unchanging and uncompromised beliefs still felt like “selling out.”

A series of intense mystical experiences forced me to reconsider. Not everyone had those types of encounters, or perceived the world in the same way—and that was OK. I embraced Hellenismos, a polytheist religion centered around the pantheon of ancient Greece. Modern Hellenismos has no creed. Instead of orthodoxy (right belief), it emphasizes orthopraxy (right practice) through reciprocal relationships with both Gods and other people.

Letting go of the “one truth” idea has allowed me to become a more tolerant, community-focused, and socially-oriented person. Part of that involves the values of my chosen faith, but it also stems from rejecting the underlying attitude I imbibed as a child. That stuck with me long after leaving the church, but this is a world of relationships, not black-and-white dichotomies. Figuring that out has allowed me to become a more whole and authentic person.

For more on the polytheist perspective in the 21st century, check out “Hellenismos – a living, modern religion,” a Patheos post by Cara Schulz:

One of the criticisms that neo-Pagans make about revived or reconstructed religions such as Hellenismos is that we live too much in the past and that our religion isn’t a living, evolving and relevant spirituality. That we are slaves to the past, treating our religion as a museum piece.

Frankly, sometimes this can be true. Sometimes we do spend too much time with books, losing ourselves in the minutia of the past. It can be difficult to see the relevancy of rituals and concepts from 1500 years ago as being valuable and vibrant in a much different time, place, and culture.

But this is how we see it—why reinvent the wheel when you can put some air in the one you’re given and get back on the spiritual path? There were reasons why our ancestors interacted with deities in the way that they did. Because it worked. It’s spiritually fulfilling. It makes sense. It allows for a deeper connection with deities and the world around you. It has meaning and depth and beauty. It is timeless. It vibrates in our very souls.

But the key is to regularly engage in rituals, observances and practices. To adhere as close to what the ancients did, in order to learn from their wisdom and experience, and then to translate that into a slightly more modern form that is still ‘true’ to its origins.

Schulz points to this wedding ceremony as an example of one of those rituals: