As Paganism’s popularity grows in Maine, leaders are coming together around an often solitary practice

Every morning starts the same way for Paul Ridlon, who also bears the name Magnus de Rhuddlan.

No matter the weather, he steps out of the round yurt where he lives in Portland and burns incense at the south altar, a tree trunk topped with statues of two cranes and a figurine of the Egyptian god Horus.

After greeting the spirit she believes represents the sun, the earth, and her land, Ridlon walks around her raised garden bed and lets the soil beneath her bare feet remind her of her connection to the natural world.

Ridlon follows Norse Druidry, a contemporary form of Paganism focused on respect for the environment, which he has practiced for nearly 15 years and studied at Druid College in Biddeford, a school that prepares people to become priests of nature.

It is one of the polytheistic and mystical religions that form the modern Pagan umbrella; They are beliefs that often emphasize the connection between nature and the divine, and often revive pre-Christian religious practices, such as celebrating the solstice and other seasonal festivals or venerating spirits believed to be present in all things.

In addition to Druidry, other popular modern Pagan religions include Wicca, whose practitioners are described as witches, and eclectic Paganism, which draws inspiration from various faith traditions.

While religious affiliation has declined both nationally and in Maine, Pagans statewide say they are seeing increased interest in the earth-based spirituality their traditions offer; This trend is also supported by religious survey data.

Paganism is generally practiced in isolation, but Maine has numerous groups and institutions that support the faith, including a clergy association that appears to be the only one of its kind in the country.

A growing app

Although they represent a small portion of the population, Pagans appear to have increased in recent years both in Maine and across the country.

The latest data from the Pew Research Center shows that 4 percent of Mainers identify as Pagan or Wiccan In the 2023-34 survey, the highest rate among all states. This is double the previous Pew survey conducted a decade ago.

While this comes with caveats such as a small sample size and a large margin of error, there is also the possibility that this reflects a growing acceptance of Paganism rather than pure growth – which seems to be true for Ridlon. If anything, he thinks it’s an undercount. He believes that the value many Mainers place on independence dovetails well with the individual and earth-centered practices that make up Pagan traditions.

Ridlon thinks the rise is due to declining interest in Christianity; Paganism lacks doctrinal texts or hierarchical structures that appeal to people who were raised as Christians and later left the faith. She was raised Catholic and remembers being taught by nuns early in her life that God is in all people, comparing this to her current belief that everything has a soul.

Researchers such as Marilyn R. Pukkila, retired research librarian at Colby College and eclectic Pagan, attribute the growth in part to the second-wave feminist movement of the 1960s and 1970s; many here were drawn to the idea of ​​the feminine goddess at the heart of Wicca and the independent nature of its rituals that appealed to women and LGBTQ people who felt marginalized by Christianity.

Helen Berger, a sociologist of Modern Paganism, echoed this statement, describing a movement away from organized religion and toward nature-based spirituality fueled by feminist and gay rights movements and environmental concerns.

“This is a non-dogmatic religion,” Berger said. “It’s a religion of practice; it’s a religion where you can do your own thing. And so all these feminists, environmentalists, anti-authoritarians… and homosexuals joining in influenced the course of the religion.”

Berger said that in the 1970s and 1980s, many Pagans either belonged to or were trained in a coven, an official group that practiced witchcraft. Since the 1990s and the advent of the internet, solo practitioners have become more common, making it easier to practice Paganism outside urban centers, Berger said.

He believes this is part of the growth in Maine, where most of the population lives. in rural areas.

Berger said recent witch videos on TikTok and other social media platforms have increased interest in Pagan practices. These trends also help stigmatize beliefs.

Circe Moss MacDonald, Portland New Church’s spiritual director who practices a nature-based form of spirituality but does not identify as Pagan, said she has noticed an increase in the number of Pagan adherents during her nine years with the organization. Open to a variety of faiths, the New Church saw half a dozen Pagan groups host events last year.

The New Church’s monthly Cosmic Service, which Ridlon and MacDonald also pioneer, attracts people seeking a spiritual connection with nature, often using costumes, puppetry, drumming and dance. During the February Cosmic Mass, Ridlon and MacDonald investigated the fundamental roots of electronic devices.

Mainers are increasingly celebrating solstices, equinoxes and other seasonal festivals central to Pagan practice, MacDonald said. Search data from Google shows Mainers’ interest in eight of the major festivals over the past five years has been higher than in any other state except Vermont.

Pagans in Maine have also been gathering in early May for Beltane on the Beach, celebrating the beginning of summer, between the spring equinox and summer solstice, for more than 40 years. The event has scaled back in recent years due to the pandemic and a change of venue, but it still offers a way for Pagans to come together. One volunteer said people regularly get married during the festival.

Build legitimacy

While Pagan rituals are often solitary endeavors, spiritual leaders take on ministerial roles by leading public meetings, serving as chaplains in hospitals and prisons, officiating wedding ceremonies, and advocating for the broader Pagan community.

The Maine Pagan Clergy Association offers a process for spiritual leaders to obtain licenses identifying themselves as Pagan clergy; this allows them to marry under state law, among other things. Leaders in the community say this helps different faith groups move toward equal footing with other religions.

About 40 people have gone through the clergy association’s licensing process since the organization was founded in 2001, Robinson said; It consists of a questionnaire, a background check, mandatory reporter training and an interview. Applicants must also comply with the group’s code of ethics.

“We are always meeting and working with newcomers,” said Kerry Robinson, president of the clergy association.

While it doesn’t always work, licensing can make other types of ministry easier, such as serving incarcerated individuals or people in hospitals, Robinson said. Three years ago, he approached a hospital to offer services in case any Pagan patients had spiritual needs. Robinson said the hospital stopped responding to her emails after she revealed that she, too, was Pagan.

“It is the case that many established belief systems still do not take Pagan clergy seriously because we operate very differently from them,” Robinson said.

The union’s process appears to be unique among the states. While some other states have statewide Pagan associations, none appear to focus on clergy or have a degree program. Instead, individual Pagan groups may offer varying intensities of training programs or paths of ordination for their particular traditions, similar to the Druid College in Maine.

Holli Emore serves as executive director of Cherry Hill Seminary in South Carolina, an online seminary focusing on Pagan practices. Requirements for marriage vary by state, he said, and some students obtain non-denominational licenses online through Universal Life Church or other means. Cherry Hill also began offering students the ordination ceremony last fall, which meets requirements in some states.

Emore is unaware of any Pagan organizations that offer statewide licensing and oversight other than Maine’s, and said he has spoken with Robinson many times about how he wishes other states would “emulate their model.”

Spiritual experiences can be as simple as drinking a cup of tea in the morning and thinking about the trade routes and natural processes that made it possible, according to Kevin Emmons, secretary and licensing coordinator for the Maine clergy group. This meditative aspect of Paganism is one of the aspects that appeals to people, Emmons said, but it also challenges traditional religious expectations.

“Because we don’t tend to own churches and properties and congregations,” Emmons said, he and other Pagans are not taken as seriously as members of other faiths, explaining that licensing helps provide legitimacy.

Ridlon obtained a license through the association, which he said helps build trust in the community by providing an ethical foundation for Pagan leaders.

As his personal spiritual work continues, he focuses on bringing more Pagans together through festivals and rituals in southern Maine. Christians might go to church for an hour or two a week, but what he envisions is more inclusive.

“It takes a day, or even longer, to leave the huge world behind,” Ridlon said.