“O Gods, My Gods!”: The Twelve in My Practice

When I was a toddler, my parents exposed me to Greek mythology. They gave me a film called Pegasus, along with an illustrated book that many may find familiar: D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths. In this book, I learned about the importance of the Twelve, and this first introduction has influenced me to this very day. As a Hellenic Polytheist, I consider the Twelve the most important members of my pantheon, and I honor them above all other Gods. This is a basic prerequisite to claiming this religion.

Yet this is a very simplistic way of looking at my religion, and the way I honor my Gods. I have been known to honor Titans. I worship the Muses. I have given grain to nymphs. I have also given cult to Persephone, and I hold Haides in high esteem. Hephaestos, Poseidon, Demeter, and Dionysos don’t receive as much attention in my life as other core Olympians—but wait, did I just include Dionysos in my version of the Twelve? What about Hestia? And how can I say that I honor the Twelve when I have just admitted that I don’t honor them all equally? Won’t honoring the Titans anger Zeus or something?

For something that seems so innocent-sounding, “I honor the Twelve” has suddenly become a complicated and nebulous phrase, and it doesn’t serve as an accurate description of my religious practice. Look over that last paragraph. Flame wars have started over less. Read it? Good. Dissection time.

We will begin with the definition of honor (v). The Oxford English Dictionary gives us the following: [1] to do honor to, pay worthy respect to (by some outward action); to worship, perform one's devotions to; to do obeisance or homage to; to celebrate; [2] to hold in honor, respect highly; to reverence, worship; to regard or treat with honor or respect. When I say that I honor the Twelve, it means that I acknowledge them as the core Olympians, and I observe them in proper cult celebrations spaced out over the course of the Hellenic year. Or, in addition to our modern Western calendar, I follow a religious calendar that consists of twelve or thirteen lunar months. It is composed of both both ancient holidays and modern ones that have been adapted to conform to Hellenic ritual orthopraxy.

As a young child, I learned that Hestia had surrendered her seat to Dionysos, and I still maintain this belief. I do not consider Haides a member of the Twelve, either. To me, the core pantheon members are Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Hephaestos, Demeter, Dionysos, Hermes, Apollon, Athene, Artemis, Ares, and Aphrodite. Other Hellenic Polytheists rotate Hermes out in favor of Haides, or switch Dionysos with Hestia, and they do have enough mythological and historical precedent to do so. These deities are crucial to public worship, and I honor all of them—with some additions—as the year goes by.

Something happens, though, when I turn away from public, calendar-oriented worship and towards my personal relationship with the Gods. I am a writer, poet, flautist, artist, singer, and world-builder. I attend a prominent women’s college, where I study English and Astronomy. One of my friends, a sorcerer, claims that I have some sort of gift that results in him attempting to use me as a sort of divine telephone. I enjoy making people laugh. My professional goals involve becoming a published author and working to advance astronomy. Therefore, some deities among the Twelve have more bearing than others in my personal life—namely Apollon, Athene, and Hermes. Developing a relationship with Ares fuels my decision to start martial arts this fall. I pray to Artemis, Athene, and Ares before or after I work out, depending on the circumstances. For Hera, I have decided to make fidelity my goal when in a relationship. Reclaiming Zeus from radical feminists is one of my minor obsessions.

Among these, Apollon holds the most sway in my personal life. He was there for me as I decided to convert to this religion after years of staring into the window and pawing at the glass. This past summer, I started to have panic attacks about what will happen when I die, and during those dark times I felt him take me in his arms and hold me. While I won’t go into detail here, things are better now. I do listen to some Christian Rock, and he is the God I think of when they refer to “the Lord.” I could not honor him enough in thanks for all he has done for me. Metaphorically speaking, Apollon is #1 on my speed dial. I honor him in the middle of the night every Saturday/Sunday, and think of him on sunny days.

Even though I focus on specific deities, Demeter, Poseidon, Hephaestos, and Dionysos are very important. They receive worship—at the proper times—and influence my life. I did theater all four years of high school, and I will be returning to the LARP scene this fall, so Dionysos will receive honors. I celebrated the Great Dionysia in his honor just a few months ago. Demeter has received barley from me. I have reflected upon Hephaestos, especially when studying myths associated with Hera, and will pray to him when it comes time for me to replace this worn-out laptop. I composed a hymn to Poseidon upon my return to the UK after taking the chunnel to and from France, and I will honor him again when I fly back to my native USA in three weeks.

Let’s look at those minor Gods now. My study of English poetry and literature has led me to a certain fondness for Prometheus, and I sometimes wonder whether he would like a small festival to honor him. Probably not. From the myths, he doesn’t seem like that kind of God. (Maybe I should ask an oracle?) Due to some Unverified Personal Gnostic Experiences, I give a nod at Mnemosyne every now and then, and I chuckle at people who consider her solely a personification of memory. She’s not. Growing up, Persephone maintained my interest in the Greek gods, creating a bridge between the Unitarian Universalist Paganism I was raised in (beginning when I was ten) and Hellenic Polytheism. I have a relationship with the Muses, and if you don’t understand why you haven’t been reading carefully enough. Haides is honored as Lord of the Dead, and I make frequent offerings of food to Hestia. I hope she likes garlic.

Now, I have hopefully clarified what I mean when I say that, first and foremost, I honor the Twelve. I don’t mean that they receive cult equal to one another, or that minor deities don’t have a place in my regular worship. This assertion only means that I recognize their central importance to the faith. Another Hellenic Polytheist may honor the Twelve differently—perhaps he or she has a close relationship with Hephaestos, counts Hestia in and Dionysos out, or worships according to a different festival calendar—but this common ideology unites us and identifies us as members of the same religion.