MY CREDO
Myth and Truth:
Norse Mythology and Unitarian Universalism
by Raymond Blankenhorn
May 4, 2003
Comes then Mjolnir’s mighty wielder;
gapes the grisly earth-girdling serpent,
when strides forth Thór to stay the WormThis stanza is from the Voluspá, an old Nordic poem which conveys the grand narrative of Norse legend. It tells of the creation of the world, the glory-days of the gods, and the Ragnarok, the last battle and the destruction of the world.
To me, the single most moving component of Norse mythology is the Ragnarok. Ragnarok meaning Destruction of the Powers. It involves all creation and destroys all of the gods and giants in a great battle. In a narrative sense, it is comparable to the Christian Armageddon. The difference, however, is far more important than the similarity. The Ragnarok is not a battle between good and evil, through which the Right shall at last be established. It is simply the last hurrah of all warriors. Odin is swallowed by a giant wolf and Thor, after slaying the Jormungand, the Midgard serpent, is engulfed by its poison. The sun and the moon are swallowed by ravenous hounds, and the nine worlds, now nothing but wastelands, fall into the sea. What happens after the Ragnarok is the subject of much controversy. Some say that the Judeo-Christian God takes over, and the two humans who survive are Adam and Eve, and so the world begins anew. This Christianization seems to be more the result of conversion than of ancient lore. Some say that certain, more peaceful gods, come back, and rule in a calm and peaceful world. Or perhaps it results in complete oblivion. The point of all this is that, if there is nothing else, there is bravery in death.
By now, many of you may be wondering, "Why this talk about Norse mythology?" Few things are as dissimilar as, on the one hand, a clan of ancient Viking warriors, gathered around a fire in a hall somewhere, drinking mead and reciting lays about Odin, and on the other, a congregation of Unitarian Universalists asking for peace and understanding. The reason I bring up Norse mythology, however, is that long I before a had given any thought to ‘religion,’ much less a credo statement, I was deeply interested in mythology. Not just the Norse, but also Greek, Celtic, and anything else I could get my hands on. It started with my mother reading to me. I loved the Greek and Norse myths, and I also loved Tolkien’s tales of Middle-earth, and the Chronicles of Narnia, by C. S. Lewis.
For me, it was the adventure of it all. The high-blown, epic fantasy of heroes and their deeds. I suspect, however, that if I had read this material in some sort of "Comparative Religion" course, or if I had pored over Tolkien’s tomes, with a pencil and a pad of paper, seeking for Christian symbolism, it would have ruined it for me. My father, who is passionate about Huckleberry Finn, would agree. If he had known, when he first read it as a young child, about its great significance in American literature, of the all the political references and social satire involved, he probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much, or learned as much from it. I don’t mean here to advocate ignorance, but rather the ability to read and appreciate something for what it is fundamentally, before trying to question and critique it, or put it in the correct academic or philosophical box.
What I am concerned with here is myth and truth, and the relation between the two. Many modern critics and, probably almost all theologians, would say: "The Norse legends are myth, not fact." Norsemen from a distant age would say: "Our legends are fact, not myth." But I say, as Forest Church says, "What’s wrong with myth?" Although I do not believe in the Norse theology, and never did, I always felt that there was something striking and compelling about them. Truth, but not fact. Something important about heroism, something true about the human condition. There is no such thing as Thor, but does that mean the bravery does not exist? Odin is a myth, but is adventure?
To me, there are four ways of looking at an ancient tale. One religious attitude which is common is that these stories are utterly false, and have been superceded by revelation and by the one "true" religion. These old tales are pagan heresies, and their followers worship false gods. Those who believed them are sinful, and may be destined for hell. With various degrees of zealotry, this is a common idea.
A second way of looking at these particular ancient tales would be that of the old Norse themselves. The stories are fact. They are theologically true. They have either happened already or will happen in the future. Indeed, this view was once widely held in the pre-Christian Teutonic and Scandinavian societies, as well as after the spread of Christianity.
Yet a third view, which is also fairly common today, is that these stories are obviously false, as are all other stories concerning the supernatural. They defy the laws of nature and therefore can’t possibly be true. They are at best quaint little stories from the far distant past, which we may smile upon but need not wrestle with, and which are of interest only as artifacts, primarily to historians or other academicians.
But there is also a fourth way of understanding these stories. This forth way is a minority view. But it is also, for better or worse, my preferred way of looking at the world, and is also, I am pleased to report, a profoundly Unitarian Universalist outlook.
So here is my credo. Truth may be found from diverse sources. If one is open and perceptive, great religious myths express sophisticated concepts and ideas that deal with real problems and provide answers that deserve respect. These stories are often not true in a factual sense, that is, they didn’t actually happen, and none of them contain the full and final word on the mystery of human existence. But they do, nonetheless, teach us real things about the human condition and the human quest for meaning. Thank you.