Famous Pagans

“Famous pagans” sounds like a neat little listicleuntil you remember that pagan is one of those words that has worn a lot of costumes over the centuries.
Sometimes it’s a modern identity (“I’m Pagan,” capital P). Sometimes it’s a historical label used by outsiders. Sometimes it’s basically shorthand for
“anyone who wasn’t Christian (or Jewish) in a certain time and place,” which is about as precise as calling every animal in the ocean “fish.” (Technically
true in a poetic sense. Biologically… chaos.)

So this article does two things at once: it introduces genuinely influential figures who are widely discussed in connection with Pagan traditions, and it
explains why the label can be both meaningful and messy. Along the way, we’ll meet an emperor who tried to reboot the old gods, a mathematician
whose legend keeps getting rewritten, and modern American Pagan leaders who helped shape what “Pagan” means todaythrough books, activism, community-building,
and the everyday work of making a minority religion legible in public life.

What “Pagan” Means (and Why That Matters)

Pagan then vs. Pagan now

Historically, pagan was a term used by Christians in the Roman Empire and later Europe to describe people who followed traditional polytheistic religions
(the many gods of Greece and Rome, local deities, household spirits, and a whole range of cult practices). In other words, it was often an outsider labelsometimes
neutral, sometimes insulting, sometimes just “not us.”

In the modern U.S., “Pagan” (often “Modern Pagan” or “Neopagan”) is used by many people as a self-chosen umbrella term for a family of new religious movements.
These movements draw inspiration from pre-Christian religions and mythologies, but they don’t all practice the same way. Some are reconstructionist (carefully
rebuilding a specific tradition), while others are eclectic (blending sources, symbolism, and personal experience). That range is not a flawit’s a defining feature.

Why “famous pagans” can be a tricky label

Here’s the puzzle: if you look at the ancient Mediterranean world, almost everyone would be “pagan” by later Christian categories. But the people in that world
generally didn’t walk around saying, “Hello, I’m a Pagan.” They said, “I honor the gods,” “I keep the rites,” “I sacrifice at the festival,” “My family protects
this shrine,” or “I’m initiated into that mystery cult.” Their religious life was woven into civic life, family life, and politicsnot usually separated into a neat
personal label the way modern religious identity often is.

Modern Paganism flips that: many people do self-identify as Pagan, Wiccan, Druid, Heathen, or another pathoften precisely because they’re living in a
society where religious categories matter, paperwork exists, and everyone loves to ask awkward questions at Thanksgiving. (You haven’t truly lived until you’ve
explained “solstice” to an uncle who thinks it’s a new flavor of energy drink.)

Famous Pagans in the Ancient World (as later writers described them)

These figures weren’t “Pagan influencers” in the modern sense. They were philosophers, officials, or public intellectuals whose lives became symbolic in later
conflicts about religion, power, and identity. Think of this section as: people who became famous partly because of how their religious world was changing.

Emperor Julian (“the Apostate”): the last high-profile Roman defender of the old gods

Julian (4th century CE) is one of the most famous “pagan” figures in Roman history because he openly championed traditional Greco-Roman religion after a period
when Christianity was rising in political influence. He didn’t just prefer the old gods privately; he tried to reshape public religious liferestoring temples,
elevating priesthoods, and pushing back against Christian dominance.

Julian’s story is famous for two reasons. First, it shows how religion had become inseparable from imperial politics. Second, it highlights how the old, diverse
practices of Roman religion were being pressured into something more organizedalmost like a “pagan church”in order to compete with Christianity’s structure.
His efforts ultimately didn’t last, but his reign remains a vivid snapshot of a world in transition: a brief moment when the old gods had an emperor in their corner.

Hypatia of Alexandria: a philosopher caught in a storm of religious and political conflict

Hypatia (c. 355–415 CE) was a mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher in Alexandria. She’s famous not only for her intellect, but also for how later generations
interpreted her life. In her own time, she taught Neoplatonist philosophyan intellectual tradition that many Christians of the era considered “pagan.” Her death
has been told and retold as a symbol: sometimes of anti-intellectualism, sometimes of religious conflict, sometimes of the vulnerability of women in public power.

The important point for our “famous pagans” question is this: Hypatia’s “pagan-ness” is often less about a checklist of rituals and more about how communities
drew boundaries during a tense historical moment. She became a canvas onto which later writers projected their fears and ideals. That’s part of what makes her
enduringly famousand why modern readers should treat her story with care and context.

The Roman “pagan” world wasn’t one religionit was a whole ecosystem

When people imagine “pagan Rome,” they sometimes picture a single tidy pantheon, like a mythological board game: Jupiter, Juno, Mars, roll the dice, offer a
sacrifice, go home. Real Roman religious life was bigger and more varied. Traditional civic cults existed alongside household worship, regional gods, imported
deities, and initiatory groups often called “mystery cults.” These mystery traditions offered intense community bonds and personal religious experiencessometimes
promising a better afterlife, sometimes emphasizing secrecy, symbolism, and ritual reenactment of sacred stories.

Why does this matter for “famous pagans”? Because it reminds us that ancient “paganism” wasn’t a single membership card. It was a lived, shifting landscape
and the “famous” people we remember are often those who intersected with major cultural changes: new religious movements, new political realities, and new
debates about what counts as legitimate belief.

Famous Modern Pagans Who Shaped the Movement in America

Modern Paganism in the U.S. includes many traditionsWicca, Druidry, Heathenry, and more. What ties them together isn’t a single doctrine; it’s a family resemblance:
reverence for nature and seasons, interest in pre-Christian mythologies, ritual practice, and a strong emphasis on personal experience and community.

The people below are “famous” within Pagan communities, and in some cases well-known outside them, because they helped define what modern Pagan identity could look like:
public, literate, organized, ethically serious, and culturally visible.

Starhawk: earth-based spirituality meets activism

If you’ve ever heard of a “spiral dance” ritual, eco-spiritual activism, or feminist Pagan practice in the U.S., you’ve probably run into Starhawk’s influence.
An author and activist, she helped popularize modern Goddess spirituality and earth-centered ritual in a form that felt practical, communal, and politically awake.

Her work is famous for blending spiritual practice with real-world action: environmentalism, nonviolence training, and community organizing. Whether readers agree
with every angle or not, her impact is hard to ignore. She’s one of the clearest examples of a modern Pagan figure who became famous not by “branding,” but by
building a living culture around ritual, teaching, and public engagement.

Margot Adler: the journalist who explained Pagan America to itself

Margot Adler was a longtime NPR journalist and also a Wiccan priestess. That combination mattered. She had a foot in mainstream media and a foot in a religious
community that was often misunderstood. Her book Drawing Down the Moon became a landmark account of Pagan and magical religions in Americapart reporting,
part cultural history, part community mirror.

Adler’s “fame” isn’t celebrity-style fame; it’s the kind that happens when someone documents a movement with enough clarity and empathy that the movement starts
using the book as a reference point. She helped legitimize Pagan voices in public conversation without sanding off the complexity that made them real.

Zsuzsanna Budapest: feminist Witchcraft and the power (and controversy) of boundaries

Zsuzsanna Budapest is often discussed as a key figure in feminist spirituality and Dianic Wicca in the United States. Her influence shows up in how many modern
Pagans think about ritual as a tool for empowermentespecially for womenand how community spaces can be built around shared identity and shared healing practices.

At the same time, Budapest’s legacy also demonstrates a hard truth: modern Paganism isn’t one harmonious group. Like other religious movements, it contains
internal debates about inclusion, authority, and tradition. Those debates matter because they shape what “Pagan community” means in practicewho feels welcome,
who feels erased, and what changes as new generations bring new ethics into old structures.

Raymond Buckland: a bridge-builder for American Wicca

Raymond Buckland is frequently credited with helping bring Gardnerian Wicca to the United States in the mid-20th century and with later developing Seax-Wica,
an accessible tradition inspired by Anglo-Saxon symbolism. In plain English: he helped translate Wicca from a small, initiatory British context into a wider
American landscape where people wanted books, teaching, and public conversation.

Buckland’s fame rests on infrastructure: books, teaching, visibility, and the slow work of helping a new religious movement develop roots in a different country.
Not flashy. Not viral. But historically important.

Scott Cunningham: the voice of the solitary practitioner

One of the biggest shifts in modern Pagan practice has been the move from “you must belong to a formal group” to “you can practice responsibly on your own.”
Scott Cunningham became famous largely because he wrote for that realitypeople who felt spiritually called but didn’t have access to covens, teachers, or local
communities (or who simply preferred a private path).

His work emphasized approachability, clarity, and the idea that spiritual practice could be sincere without being gatekept. Whether someone ultimately joins a
tradition or stays solitary, Cunningham’s influence is part of why modern Paganism in America is as book-literate and self-directed as it is.

Laurie Cabot: Salem’s public-facing Witch and civil-rights advocate

Laurie Cabot is closely associated with Salem, Massachusettsone of the most symbolically loaded places in American “witch” imagination. Her public identity as
a Witch, her role as a teacher and author, and her efforts to advocate for the civil rights of people who identify with Witchcraft traditions made her a highly
visible figure in American Pagan culture.

Cabot’s fame also shows how “witch” and “Pagan” get tangled in popular culture. For some people, “witch” means Halloween costumes and horror movies. For others,
it’s a religious identity. Public figures like Cabot have had to navigate that gapcorrecting misconceptions while also living in a world that loves stereotypes.

Isaac Bonewits and modern American Druidry: building institutions, not just vibes

Druidry in America includes multiple currents, but one of the most visible organizational forms has come through groups that emphasize structured ritual, study,
and community life. Isaac Bonewits is frequently discussed as a major figure in this space, especially because of his role in founding Ár nDraíocht Féin (ADF),
which helped formalize Druid practice in an American nonprofit context.

Even if someone has never attended a Druid rite, the broader point matters: modern Paganism isn’t only private spirituality. It also includes the very practical
work of institutionstraining clergy, hosting festivals, setting ethical standards, and representing communities in interfaith settings.

Organizations that made Pagan life “official” in public settings

Individuals can become famous, but movements become durable when they develop community structures. In the U.S., organizations like the Covenant of the Goddess
became well-known in part for advocacy and outreachhelping Wiccan and Witchcraft practitioners navigate legal recognition, public misunderstanding, and interfaith
representation. This kind of work is rarely glamorous, but it’s foundational. A religion becomes “real” in the public eye not only through books, but through
the slow grind of paperwork, community standards, and showing up consistently.

So… Who Counts as a “Famous Pagan” Today?

Three ways “fame” shows up in Pagan history

• Public impact: People who changed laws, norms, or public perception (often through advocacy and media presence).
• Movement-shaping ideas: Writers and teachers whose work became a shared reference point (books that get passed around like sacred mixtapes).
• Symbolic power: Historical figures who became “meaningful” in later debates (even when the label “pagan” is a retrospective one).

What “famous pagans” are not

They’re not automatically rebels, villains, or mystical super-humans who levitate during a full moon. (If you meet one who can levitate, please ask for the
technique, because my posture could use the help.) Pagan traditions are religions and spiritual paths, not a special effects department.

At the same time, it’s okay to admit that Pagan imagery has cultural sparkle: gods and goddesses, seasonal festivals, ritual symbolism, mythology, and a strong
relationship with nature. The key is to treat it as religion and culture, not as a costume.

How to Explore Pagan History Without Getting Weird About It

Start with respectful curiosity

If you want to learn, aim for questions like: “What does this community believe?” “What practices are important?” “How did this tradition develop?” Avoid the
tabloid questions (“So… do you curse your enemies?”) unless you enjoy being politely roasted by someone holding herbal tea and unbothered confidence.

Use solid sources and multiple angles

Pagan history touches archaeology, religious studies, sociology, and living communities. A museum essay on Roman cults will tell you something different than a
modern Pagan author’s memoirand you learn the most by reading both. The ancient world gives context; the modern movement gives lived meaning.

Remember: modern Paganism is diverse

Some Pagans are devotional polytheists. Some are more symbolic. Some center ritual. Some center ethics, ecology, or community. Some practice alone. Some are deeply
organized. There’s no single “Pagan personality type,” unless the personality type is “has strong opinions about candles.” (Kidding. Mostly.)

Experiences Related to Famous Pagans (About )

Because Paganism spans both ancient history and living religion, the “experience” of engaging with famous pagans often comes in layerslike a historical field trip
stacked on top of a modern community gathering, with a side of personal reflection. People who first encounter figures like Julian or Hypatia often describe a
surprisingly modern reaction: “Wait, this sounds familiar.” Not because the ancient world is identical to ours (it definitely wasn’t), but because the
questions are recognizable. Who gets to define legitimate belief? How do politics and religion mix? What happens when a society’s spiritual center of gravity shifts?
Reading about these moments can feel less like dusty trivia and more like watching the long timeline of human identity debates play out in different costumes.

Others describe their strongest “famous pagan” experiences as happening in museums rather than temples. Standing in front of a Roman-era artifactan altar, a
statue, a ritual objectcan make ancient religion feel real in an unromantic way. Not “sparkly mythology,” but “real people built this, touched this, and
believed something was happening here.” Museum essays about mystery cults and imported deities can add a second jolt: the ancient world was globalized in its own
way, and religious life moved across borders through trade, migration, and empire. For many readers, that complicates the simplistic idea that “paganism” was a
single, local tradition. It wasn’t. It was an ecosystem.

When people connect with modern famous Pagansoften through books rather than personal meetingsthey frequently describe a different kind of experience: permission.
Starhawk’s writing can feel like permission to treat spirituality as embodied and earth-centered, not just theoretical. Margot Adler can feel like permission to
speak about Pagan religion in an ordinary, journalistic voiceno spooky soundtrack required. Scott Cunningham often feels like permission to practice alone and still
feel legitimate. That “permission” is subtle, but it’s powerful: it’s the moment someone realizes a spiritual path can be both meaningful and grounded.

For those who attend open Pagan events (public rituals, seasonal celebrations, interfaith gatherings, or educational workshops), the experience people commonly report
is a mix of familiarity and surprise. Familiarity, because many gatherings are structured like any community event: introductions, shared guidelines, respectful
participation, and a focus on consent and comfort. Surprise, because the emotional tone is often gentler than pop culture suggests. Instead of theatrical curses,
there may be quiet gratitude, ecological awareness, storytelling, and a strong emphasis on personal responsibility. People also notice how much humor exists inside
the communitybecause when you’re a misunderstood minority religion, being able to laugh (without laughing at each other) is a kind of survival skill.

Finally, many people say the most lasting experience isn’t a single ritual or a single famous nameit’s the shift in how they read history and culture afterward.
Once you’ve learned what “pagan” can mean, you start spotting the word used as a shortcut in movies, headlines, and even casual conversation. And you become a little
more careful, a little more precise, and a lot less likely to treat living religions as aesthetic props. In that sense, “famous pagans” are not just famous people;
they’re doorways into a more thoughtful way of understanding belief across time.

Conclusion

“Famous Pagans” isn’t a single roster so much as a map. In the ancient world, the label often points to people who lived at the edge of religious transformation,
like Julian and Hypatiafigures whose stories became symbolic in later cultural battles. In the modern U.S., it points to writers, organizers, and public voices
who helped build Pagan identity as a legitimate, complex religious reality: Starhawk’s activist spirituality, Margot Adler’s cultural documentation, and the
community-shaping work of teachers, advocates, and institutions.

The best takeaway is simple: Paganism isn’t one thing, and “fame” isn’t one kind of spotlight. But when you look closely, these stories show how humans keep
returning to the same deep questionsabout nature, meaning, community, power, and what we owe to one anotherjust with different names for the sacred.