So I saw this post arguing that Christopaganism is inherently eclectic, and that got me thinking, “Am I eclectic?”

Although it’s not usually intended that way these days, it’s actually a fairly value-neutral term to me. One of the most important philosophical schools that developed during the Hellenistic era was Eclecticism, which derived its name from the adherents’ reputation for ἐκλεκτικός or the ability to select the very best from competing systems of thought and I’d have no trouble copping to that if I felt it was an accurate description.

But I’m not sure that it is, at least with regard to my interest in folk Catholicism, which no doubt comes across as the most anomalous and eclectic part of my practice.

The reason that I don’t think it fits is because I’m highly selective in what I draw on from that tradition. Basically it all comes back to Spider and what she’s shown me. I’ve actually had to curb my enthusiasm for this stuff so that I don’t end up diluting her message. I mean, it would be very easy to fall into “put a corpse on it” mode.

Sacred Heart, Saint Francis, Saint Christopher, Santa Muerte, rosaries, lectio divina, the Virgin of Guadalupe, stigmata … this shit is cool. Real cool. But it does absolutely nothing for me. Just leaves me totally spiritually flaccid, you know. And all the stuff that’s the actual reason most people are Catholic today? Sporfle.

No, for me it’s all about John the Baptist, Saint Paul, Doubtful Saint Margaret, Mary with all those daggers piercing her heart, the temptation of Saint Anthony, bone chapels, weird ass processions and folk traditions, flagellant nuns and lots and lots of severed heads.

That’s pretty much the extent of my interest in Catholicism and all of it is directly because of Spider.

For instance, the other day I was out on a magical walk and suddenly heard her say, very clearly, “Read the Apocryphal Acts of Paul.” And I’m like, “Okay. I really hope such a text exists!”

And lo and behold I find a translation on the web. Turns out that although I hadn’t read it I was already familiar with the content as a large part of it is concerned with the passion of Saint Thecla which may have started off as an independent tradition later grafted onto Paul’s legend.

So I read it and discover:

Saint Paul is a shape-shifter.
He comes as a stranger to the city, preaching personal liberation through the dissolution of gender roles and societal norms.
His presence drives everyone out of their minds, especially the women who go utterly, completely bonkers for him.
One girl in particular loses it bad for him. She spurns her mother and fiance and sits at the window — like a spider — desperate for any sound or sight of him. She shifts between catatonia and ecstatic raving. Nothing any of them do has any effect on the girl. She can only have her wits restored by the saint.
After labyrinthine ordeals the pair are supernaturally reunited and there is much love in the tomb.

And I’m like “Motherfucker. You have got to be shitting me!”

It’s practically a fucking etiological myth for tarantism.

Written almost a thousand years before the phenomenon surfaces and in a completely different part of the world.

And yeah, I was reminded of another story — an older story — while reading that too.

Circles, man. Circles.

So that’s why there’s now Catholic elements in my stuff. It wouldn’t be right to ignore what this spirit is telling me — or to go beyond that. Blurry as they may be, I know where my boundaries are.

Happy Nativity of John the Baptist everybody!