Readers, please enjoy this guest blog post by Linda Raedisch, author of Night of the Witches.
Religion, for me, is a spectator sport. I often find myself gazing longingly from the sidelines, but the truth is that anything more intense than lighting incense or putting up a Christmas tree gives me the willies. If you want to send me into a panic, ask me to say grace. I’d rather hang back and take notes.
I’ve always been fascinated by household altars because, like most erstwhile Protestants, I didn’t have one growing up. At the moment, the altar that fascinates me the most is the one inside my South Indian neighbors’ apartment—for the simple reason that I have never seen
