Beyond Goddess: Female Devotees of Male Deities

(This article was written in 2004 and appeared in newWitch #11, January - March 2006.  I'm posting it here for the benefit of people who may not have had a chance to read it in the magazine, and also because I am in the process of expanding it into a book by the same name.)

By Laure Beth Lynch

When I was a rebellious teenager looking into Paganism for the first time, all the beginners’ books I turned to for advice encouraged me to find a patron Goddess.  Not necessarily at the exclusion of a God, mind you; in fact, a lot of sources (mostly Wiccan ones) advised me to seek one deity of each gender, for the sake of balance.  But there was always an emphasis on the feminine aspect so neglected by the patriarchal mainstream religions, to the point where I began to feel almost like I’d be a traitor to my sex if I didn’t work with a female deity.  And beyond that there was also the assumption—which I mostly shared—that it would be more natural and comfortable for me to
devote myself to a Goddess, someone who could serve as a kind of divine role model, someone likely to share my interests and concerns as an angsty, bookish young woman.

Well.  Eventually I did meet up with not one Goddess but several.  However, the connections were never all that strong, and as time went on I became aware that there was a Big Male Presence sort of hanging around on the sidelines, constantly trying to make inroads into my life by means of relentless signs, dreams, and other clue-by-fours, never letting up on His efforts to reel me in.  When I finally stopped trying to run away and began to pay attention, I sussed out that this Male Presence was Odin, the Norse/Germanic God of inspiration, ecstasy, magic, and death.  Reluctantly at first, I began to research Him, study the culture and literature of His people, and most importantly, listen to Him.  He informed me in no uncertain terms that I was His—and the rest, as they say, is history.

As I began talking to other Pagans both online and in person, I discovered that my experiences are far from unique.  In traditions ranging from Wicca to reconstructionist faiths such as Asatru and Hellenismos, an increasing number of women are working closely with Gods, as either their primary patron or in addition to whatever Goddess/es they serve.  And most of them agree that it was the God in question who chose them—often unexpectedly.

“I so did not choose him. To be blunt and honest, I didn’t want him,” says Lilith Maeve Crow, an eclectic whose background includes Dianic Wicca, Shamanism, Yoruba, Druidry, and Kitchen Witchery, and who works closely with—you guessed it—Crow, psychopomp and trickster extraordinaire of the Native American pantheon.  Lilith Maeve, who was raised Catholic, started out as a strict Dianic Wiccan and was very focused on working only with female energy before Crow entered her life.  She now works with a variety of Goddesses but “so far am a one god kind of gal.”  In her shamanic studies, her first totem was the bunny, an herbivore who was “nice and sweet and wanted to make love not war (not with me, just as a vibe).”  And then crows began stalking her--eating their dead wherever she went, rapping on her window, and finally showing up in her dreams.   “It was the dreams that did it, really. He would be in human form and it made him much more approachable for me.”

Like Lilith Maeve, author and Germanic Heathen Mary Sharratt has always practiced a very feminist and Goddess-centered spirituality and never expected to be called by a God.  When Wodan (the continental Germanic version of Odin) first started appearing to her in meditation and trance work, “I even told Him to go away! I thought a God like Wodan would be too macho for someone like me.”  But He kept sticking around and she finally decided that her patron goddess Holda/Frau Holle (equated by most mythographers with Wodan’s wife Frija/Frigga) also wanted her to work with Him.  “I definitely feel that Holda and Wodan compliment each other and it would be unnatural to serve one and ignore the other.”

Other women I spoke to were more like me in that the goddess-focused thing never really worked out.  Oenochoe, a Hellenic polytheist, felt an attraction to Persephone when she first began her Pagan studies, but has never pursued a continuing relationship with Her or any other Goddess. “I don't know if that means anything, if it's just coincidence that only male gods have chosen me, or if it's an extension of my general tendency to get along with men better than women.”  At 13, she read a scholarly book about Dionysos and from that point on “He was always kind of in the back of my head.”  When she began studying Wicca later on, it seemed obvious that Dionysos was her patron.  “But of course, relationships are all reciprocal, so in a sense I also chose him. I returned his interest, studied his history, learned the many ways of his worship.”

My kindred sister Jolene Dawe is a dual-faith Heathen and Hellenic semi-reconstructionist because she ended up being claimed strongly by not one God but two, from two different pantheons.  Her first impulse when new to Paganism was to look into various Goddesses, although at the time she was still sorting through her beliefs about the nature of the Gods.  But when she first decided to seek a more direct, personal relationship with the divine, it was the Greek sea God Poseidon who was right there, waiting “with his breath held, an idea that still makes me a tad uncomfy.”  She became aware of her other patron, Odin, years before she started working with Him, through a connection her father had with Thor.  It was only when she began studying Heathenism and was in the process of using Reiki symbols to seal the sacred space during a solitary ritual for Hella that “Odin came through with a dominating presence and said that while the Reiki symbols were all well and good, He and His family had Their own system.”  She started learning the runes thereafter, and the relationship with Odin grew closer.

Closeness is a recurring theme when listening to these women talk about their male patrons; most of them will tell you that these are the most intimate and intensely personal relationships they’ve ever had with a deity, although the exact nature of the relationship can vary widely.  Some female devotees find a father figure, complete with the support and positive reinforcement that may have been lacking in their relationships with their human fathers.   Jolene has a father-daughter rapport with Odin and “it’s a role that was actually very easy to get used to once I had stopped fighting His claim on me.”  For Mary, Wodan is “my mentor and teacher, my great Master in the mysteries.”  Working with Him alongside Holda has helped her to reclaim her “masculine side” on her own, rather than through a male priest or elder.  “Having a direct experience of a male God without any middlemen interpreting the experience for me (as one has in most revealed religions such as the Catholic religion in which I was raised) has been enormously powerful. I feel that I am a much more powerful person as a result of this.”

Others see their Gods as beloved but cranky uncles, as Darkhawk, a Kemetic polytheist, describes Set, who she says “kicks my ass for my own good. I do love Him dearly, partly I think because so many people misunderstand Him.”  Hylian Shadow, a follower of the Celtic bards Gwydion ap Don and Taliesin, sees her deities more as older brothers.  I was raised by my father, and I’ve always felt more comfortable hanging out with the guys, so I’m more comfortable telling a God things.”  Phoebe Lyra, a Hellenic Pagan, also relates to her patron Apollo as an older brother, and says He has helped her to be more mellow and a lot less angry. 
He is a nurturing male without any tendency to be macho, sexist, or controlling, which encourages me to be less defensive with human males as well.”

And then there are those of us—a great many of us, apparently--whose relationships to our Gods are anything but platonic.  When I finally dedicated myself to Odin, at His insistence it was not just your standard dedication; it was a wedding, complete with a ring and mutually exchanged marriage vows.  I am dizzy-swoony-head-over-heels in love with Him, as passionately adoring (and often as shy, moody and angsty, by turns) as a schoolgirl with her first love.  And I’ve been surprised to discover how many women have similar relationships with their own gods.  Jolene has taken marriage vows to Poseidon and refers to Him as “my hearth and home.”  Oenochoe sees Dionysos mostly as a lover.  “As a maenad, I relate to him in a very personal, intimate way--he intoxicates, he inspires lust and frenzy and wild dancing. I imagine myself dancing with him on the mountainside, and yes, there is a sexual aspect to that sometimes.”  Brenda, a Celtic reconstructionist Pagan dedicated to Mannanan mac Lir, says that “part of how I honor Manannan and work with him is contact during sexual intercourse. He is also my bedmate of sorts when I'm away from home.”   Lillith Maeve’s relationship with Crow tends to fit into “a very tempestuous sixteen year old first big love model,” and says the bulk of their interactions happen during dreams or when her boyfriend draws Crow down.  “Usually it’s a lot of teen angst. A lot of crying and making out. The dizzy in love thing. The mad upset thing. And we have had relations with each other. It’s pretty intense and mind blowing to be involved in that way.”

But can male deities really serve as role models for female worshippers? And how important is that pesky gender difference, anyway?  In my case, I know that Odin is the consummate role model for me in many things (writing, rune work, and trance work as well as confidence, bravery, cunning); I would be hard-put to find a Goddess who shared so many of my interests and concerns, and frankly, I have no interest in trying.  I would also say that most of the challenges and benefits involved in working with Him stem from His being Odin, not simply because He’s male.  And most of the women I spoke to seem to agree when it comes to their own patrons.

“The differences between gods and goddesses are really the differences people assign to them; they are not inherent to the divine,” says Jolene, who adds that Poseidon encourages her to strive for awareness and compassion (“He is rather Zen-like, which hurts my head”) while Odin pushes her to be mindful.  “Awareness and mindfulness, though they seem the same, are not quite the same.  Awareness is less active than mindfulness is.  Compassion is hard.  And I don’t excel at any of these things, let me tell you!  But I try. “  In these things, she says, her relationships with her gods define her spiritual growth.

Once Mary got over the irony of being chosen by a God whom many regard as patron of the “Warriors Who Are Going to Valhalla tattoo biker crowd,” she learned that some of His most devout worshippers are strong, independent women. “I've come to the conclusion that he goes out of His way to "recruit" women who are uppity and strong-willed. He doesn't go for the surrendered or submissive types at all.”  While she definitely feels closer and more comfortable with Holda as a goddess, she’s learned to see past Wodan’s “scary” reputation as God of the Slain.  “My work with Him has definitely charged my writing and given me inspiration.”

Oenochoe believes there are some differences in working with a God as opposed to a Goddess because of the differences between male and female energy, and also finds the “lover” relationship a woman can have with a God to be deeply rewarding.  But in the long run “deity is deity, and approaching the divine is always exciting, intoxicating and terrifying.”  She goes on to agree with others that her spiritual growth is almost completely tied to her relationships with her Gods.  “Not because they are male, but because they are gods, and they guide me and teach me and challenge me and care for me and give me something to always be reaching for.”

“It’s like having a boyfriend verses having a girl friend,” says Lilith Maeve, who adds that neither is “better” as far as she’s concerned; both types of relationship are fulfilling in different ways.  With Goddesses, as with girlfriends, “there’s kinship and more sameness,” whereas with a God there tends to be a lot more work involved.  “When I work with Crow it’s a lot more raw and it forces me to examine things inside that suck and hurt. He’s not afraid to push. And it makes me more able to push myself.”

Have I convinced you yet that it may be worth your while to answer the call of the male deity who’s knocking to be let into your life?  Women with male patrons almost universally offer the same advice: be open to the relationship. 
Don’t let other people tell you what you can and cannot do,” Jolene says.  “Don’t let other people’s ideas of what is politically correct, pagan-wise, decide anything for you.”  She adds that while research can help you get to know your deity better in the context of His culture and history, the most important thing is to keep the lines of communication open because “the relationship will be between you and He, not between you and He and historical or mythical information.”

Mary echoes the advice to keep an open mind.  “This God is probably approaching you because He has something unique to teach you or because you need something He can provide.”  She also
cautions against being put off by the God’s “outer” reputation in the Pagan community.  “Many of the most powerful Gods such as Odin are misunderstood; i.e. Odin is a scary trickster only to be approached by macho warriors.”  She advises women to read the existing mythology, form their own conclusions, and talk to other people who have worked in depth with that God.

But most of all? Have fun and enjoy the relationship, wherever it happens to take you.  “If you think mortal boys are rough, they don’t have nothing on gods,” Lilith Maeve quips.  “Seriously, it’s a hell of a roller coaster.”  Give the One who’s calling to you half a chance, and you just may end with more than a divine role model.  You may end up with a divine soul mate.  I know I did.


(c) 2004
wodandis@gmail.com