Celebrating Isaac, celebrating community.

I didn't know Isaac Bonewits at all well, which is to say that I vaguely remember shaking his hand and briefly hanging with him at some FreeSpirit Gathering some time in the past. I might have been present in a ritual that he facilitated. I did give him a lot of airplay when I was doing the Between The Worlds radio broadcast in Massachusetts after he released Be Pagan Once Again on cassette.

Good, stout heathen stuff, that.

The one time I really spoke with him was on the phone, doing an information-gathering interview concerning Scott Cunningham. Isaac had details about Cunningham's medical condition, who was about to succumb to spinal meningitis. I didn't know anything about spinal meningitis at the time, and Isaac playfuly laughed at me when I foolishly asked if Scott's condition was serious. Way to go, Devyn.

Gods know there are many biographical tributes going on concerning him, his life's work, and his monumental contributions to the global Pagan community, so far be it from me to attempt to make another one. It's excellent enough that Peg Aloi of Witches' Voice and Jason of Wild Hunt have already provided us with some. Deborah Lipp offered some very classy words through her Facebook account. But after Margot Adler shares the relevance of one's life on National Public Radio, one wee little upstart blog like this can't really add much. That's an excellent thing.

This morning, I had the opportunity to help in some small way, being that I'm acquainted with the excellent people providing the services to Isaac and his family. I was privileged to acquire the details concerning the family's wishes should (when) others formulate their own ritual tributes to him, and it feels good to have been one of the people to help get that kind of word out.

(Namely, the family requests that all rites honouring Isaac feature three key points: that they be joyful celebrations of his life, that a cup is raised to him, and that the song "Into The West" (Annie Lennox) is performed or played.)

But all of this has also given me pause for thought to appreciate not only Isaac as a person and as a teacher, but also how the growth of the Pagan community over the last several decades has enabled this kind of outpouring of respect and appreciation for one of its respected own, and what that kind of outpour could express to the general public. I mean, his departure was cited on NPR.

Most Paganfolk can probably hope for a service that might only vaguely represent their beliefs. I've known some who, after their death, rituals were held in secret and/or separated from the blood relatives of the deceased family.

The High Priestess whose covenmates met in secret on the beach to honour her life and work. The High Priest whose entire life as such was kept secret from his own wife, and whose friends also had to mark his death in secret. The young man in Oshawa for whom my then-partner and I acquired flowers from a local funeral home so we could facilitate a ritual for him in our house. The beautifully creative woman who was murdered in Massachusetts, and the stern but necessary request that all attendees at her wake refrain from wearing or saying anything that smacked of Pagan practice.

Very few, if any, of us are going to make the kind of undeniable mark that Isaac Bonewits did. But, compared to the days when those identifying themselves as Witches might likely face harassment, forced psychological assessments, police suspicion, or even assault, that such a person's funerary rites can be so publicly present, so representative of what this community means, takes all of us one step forward. In a sense, even in his agrieved departure, a man like Isaac Bonewits continues to serve the Gods and Their children by showing the world around him that an alternatively spiritual person's life can be celebrated on its own terms, unapologetically, without quantifying explanation, and nobody has to repress anything to participate in it. What greater thing can be said of a man who spent his life sharing his research and passion, his attitude and perseverance, his wit and refusal to tolerate nambypamby nonsense in the tribe?

Perhaps, when it becomes our time to Go, our families and peers will be that much more aware, understanding, and appreciative of who and what we have been also.

I wish I had had the opportunity to know you better, sir. Thank you for all that you are, were, and remain. There'll be a bell for you come Samhain.