In the heart of Britain, where the whispers of ancient traditions weave through the bustling streets, a remarkable change has begun to take root among those who don the badge of law enforcement. The Pagan Police Association, a gathering of officers devoted to the worship of nature and the reverence of myriad deities, has emerged as a beacon of recognition for those who practice this often-misunderstood faith.
Among these officers is Sergeant Andy Pardy, a steadfast figure from Hertfordshire Police. With a spirit as fierce as the Norse gods he venerates—Thor, with his mighty hammer; Odin, the wise one with a single eye; and Freyr, the benevolent god of fertility—Pardy embodies the essence of modern Paganism. He recently met with officials from the Home Office, advocating for greater acknowledgment of Pagan officers and their unique beliefs.
“Paganism,” he insists, “is not merely a whimsical dalliance with nature or an eccentric fad. It is not some dark and sinister practice shrouded in mystery. Many envision it as dancing naked around flickering flames, but in truth, our rituals are far more profound.”
His words resonate with sincerity as he explains that for Pagans, rituals are akin to prayer for Christians—filled with chanting, music, meditation, and passages that echo through time. Most Pagans also engage in conservation efforts, striving to give back to the Earth that nurtures them.
The Hertfordshire Police have embraced this spirit of inclusivity by allowing Sergeant Pardy to observe eight sacred holidays each year. These days include Samhain, which marks the Pagan New Year and coincides with Halloween, and Litha, celebrating the longest day of summer. While these days are deducted from his annual leave, they are etched into his calendar as sacred time—an acknowledgment of his faith that cannot be overlooked.
Superintendent Simon Hawkins reflects on this progressive policy: “While we must balance operational needs, our commitment to respecting diverse beliefs allows every officer to reallocate traditional holidays according to their personal faith.” This approach has been warmly received by various faith groups within the force, including Muslim and Jewish communities.
Yet challenges remain. Despite strides toward acceptance, some officers report facing prejudice or being overlooked for promotions due to their beliefs. Misconceptions about Paganism linger like shadows in a dimly lit room—some mistakenly equate it with nefarious practices or extremist ideologies.
But with each passing day and every conversation sparked by individuals like Sergeant Pardy, understanding blossoms like wildflowers in spring. The journey toward recognition is ongoing, yet there is hope that one day all paths—whether they lead through ancient woods or modern precincts—will be honored equally in the tapestry of British society.
2 comments
The only thing “strange” about this story is that it didn’t happen years ago. Over the past half a century, Wicca and Neopaganism have grown into a thriving and mature religious movement grounded in reverence for the Earth and for the Old Gods of pre-Christian Europe. The eight religious holidays are the solstices, equinoxes, and cross-quarter points that mark the turning of the wheel of the year. Celebrating them honors the cycles of life–birth, death, and rebirth–that are present in all of nature.
Makes sense. I like that the holidays are tied to real celestial events. This would have been more important in the past when we were mostly farmers and perhaps before we had good calendars… but even now, it makes sense to me that we should be connected to the seasons in a celebratory way.