Why Ásatrú?

"Why Ásatrú?" was originally written on 25 August 2018. It was later transformed into one of the middle chapters of my book, Tales from the Ironwood. I think it serves well as a stand-alone piece and is a fair representation of my thinking at the time. It has become one of the most popular of my articles. Victor Hugo warned however that "popularity is a piece of faded tinsel that is out of date."

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WHEN FRIENDS AND FAMILY LEARN that I have embraced a faith that honors and worships the pre-Christian gods of Europe, they are typically bewildered. I recall one of my cousins saying, “Well that’s fine, but I think it’s crazy.” I refrained from pointing out the “crazy” things that Christians believe like a teenaged virgin giving birth to god Almighty or that everyone born before the time of Christ was damned to Hell for all eternity. Other friends and family often remained silent, choosing not to discuss religion, but presumably thinking much the same. Few seem to ever stop to consider the strange things that they believe.

It’s not too difficult to understand why one might leave Christianity. In fact, according to several studies, the number of Christians as a percentage of the population in the US and many European countries is rapidly declining. Sex scandals in the Catholic Church combined with changing perspectives on issues including abortion and homosexuality have made the Church appear antiquated and out-of-step with the times.

While there are many who embrace the principles of political “progressivism,” there are others who feel disenfranchised. Our fast-paced materialistic world has replaced traditional values with fads and technology that appear to lack enduring worth. It’s become rather commonplace to find couples or families at restaurants staring mutely at their cell phones. What was once an occasion for a family to enjoy each other’s company and share the accomplishments and the challenges of the day is replaced with the latest meme or cat video on social media.

Globalism has resulted in a bland monoculture where all people everywhere are the same or clamor to be so. While striving for some sort of equality, all have been reduced to little more than consumers. Large corporations have successfully sold the world the idea that the “new” is better than “old.” Thousands of people line up to purchase the latest iPhone for outrageous prices while their old phone works perfectly well.

Within the maelstrom of modernism it comes as little surprise that some have begun to seek something greater. While there are people of European descent who undoubtedly return to the church of their youths, the Christian Church has never been a part of our deeper folk-soul. It forever remains foreign to Europeans as a people. In order to embrace Christianity, we must overcome our natural instincts and convince ourselves, for example, that “turning the other cheek” is a proper and moral behavior. It is, and always has been, unnatural for us, as a people, to believe that sexuality is sinful, that children are born sinners, that we are incapable of heroic deeds that can earn us a place in the afterlife.

Even in our modern culture, popular films and books often still feature heroic characters (apparently those making movies know what sells.) Audiences love to plunk down their hard-earned dollars to watch Marvel and DC superheroes fight the forces of evil. We love the heroism of Star Wars. Through the years, heroes from John Wayne to Sylvester Stallone have stirred the hearts of children and adults alike. Children used to love the tales of the Three Musketeers and Robin Hood. Such characters not only thrilled our imaginations—they reminded us of who we really are. It is therefore fairly easy to see why there are few popular movies featuring characters that behave like Jesus.

Several years ago I ran into an old high-school friend, Corey, whom I hadn’t seen in quite some time. While Jewish by heritage, he was atheist when I knew him. In high school, Corey used to like to challenge his family’s rabbi with all sorts of outlandish theories. After reading Erich Von Däniken’s Chariots of the Gods, he developed various questions designed to convince his rabbi of ancient alien visitations to our planet. I was surprised then when he told me that he had become an Orthodox Jew. The decision was made as a result of a near-death experience. It seemed natural and right for him to return to the faith of his ancestors. He told me that he thought god himself was calling him home. His story is not unique. Confronted with daily attacks on tradition, many are beginning to return to older more-meaningful pathways.

Today more and more people are being called home to the gods of their ancestors. In Europe, some are returning to the worship of the old Roman gods. Thousands of Greeks are beginning to worship the old Greek gods once again. The Greek government officially recognized Hellenic polytheism in 2017. Many more are returning to the faith of the ancient Druids. Each year hundreds of Druids make a pilgrimage to Stonehenge. According to the American Religious Identification Survey, there are some 30,000 Druids in the United States alone. On the outskirts of Rejkjavik, a hof is being built—the first pagan temple to be constructed in Iceland in more than a thousand years. In each case, the old gods are filling a spiritual void left by Christianity/Globalism. Ásatrú similarly fulfills the spiritual needs of those of Northern and Western European descent. Traditional values such as loyalty and honor are held high among its adherents. There is a distinct value placed on community, one’s ancestors, and nature itself. Unlike Christianity, where nature is put under man’s dominion, the ancient lore teaches that we are one with nature.

Why would someone turn to Ásatrú in Twenty-First-Century America? The answer seems clear. We do not choose Ásatrú, but rather Ásatrú or the old gods themselves, choose us. While some might argue that we may select Ásatrú as our faith as simply as one might choose between an iPhone and Android phone, most understand that Ásatrú has deep cultural roots. Sure, anyone may become Christian (or Muslim for that matter). The world’s largest religions are both universalist and monotheistic. Their ways are the Only Way—but their road is broad and open to all. Our path is admittedly a narrow one—distinctly tribalist and polytheistic. Our way is not the only way however—in fact, every people should have the same opportunity to practice the religion of their pre-Christian or pre-Muslim ancestors. Ásatrú speaks directly to those whose ancestors, once upon a time now nearly forgotten, worshipped the old gods of the North. For many who turn to Ásatrú, the modern world no longer fulfills our spiritual needs.

Ásatrú speaks to the deepest part of our souls. It fills that void left by the modern world. Ásatrú reminds us of where we came from. It helps us feel who we are. It provides us with a vision of the world that was, that is, and that will come.

Copyright © 2019 by Donald van den Andel