The Path of a Christian Witch (19 page)

What it means to be a woman, that deep complexity, has been completely obliterated from Christianity. But women of passion, of uncompromising fierceness, have been the stronghold of the Christian faith since the very beginning. So when I raise my hands and praise the Great Goddess, I awaken the memories of all these women who have been tamed under the male church. I raise every symbol of sacred femininity that has been given to us, from the Venus of Willendorf to the Virgin Mary to the goddesses of antiquity and of the Far East. They are women and they are divine, and we desperately need to bring them back to life.

When the moon calls, whether in its full or dark phase, I sit in its light. I let its crystal light fall on me like a fresh shower of star dust. With a soft breath, I inhale it and blow it gently in a circle all around me. This circle is me and the moon, a place to be Woman.

There, in the darkness, a figure forms. She is the Maiden. She is the Vestal Virgin in a long white robe, tending her temple, speaking prophecy with the voice of intuition. She is the child Mary, weaving the temple veil in complete devotion. She is Athena, Esther, the Amazon, tall and proud and fierce. She stands defiant, shoulders back, weapons in hand. She is young, vibrant, purpose-driven. She will kill for what she believes and destroy what threatens those she loves. Her face may change, her guise may change, and her weapons will vary, but she is one. She is strength, youth, innocence, and power.

The circle keeps turning and the Goddess becomes fuller. She answers the call of nature and becomes pregnant with life. This life twirls inside her, makes her grow, makes her vulnerable—beautiful and heavy with a burden she will not shed. With this growth, she becomes the giver, the sustainer. She is complete humility and complete glory, fragile and all-powerful. She gives life. There is nothing greater. The fiercest warriors tremble at such power. She is Mary in full acceptance of her mission. She is Isis full with her son Horus. She is Cerridwen and Demeter, bringer of life on Earth. She is every mother who has ever breathed life into another so that we may pursue our journey on Earth.

The circle continues. Spring turns to summer and then to fall. The Goddess changes yet again. Her shoulders slope down slightly, her hair lightens, and the lines of the ages show on her face. In her eyes is the glimmer of knowledge, wisdom of what she has seen, lessons she has lived. Her staff is the support and guidance of the world. She is the wise one, the healer, the teacher. She commands with the assurance of one who has seen the darkness and has defeated it. She has fought as a Maiden and has lived the greatness of motherhood. She is the prophetess Anne who predicts and warns. She is the Matriarch who steers her family and upholds tradition. Her failing eyes see the spirit world in a new light. Her memories are the continuity of what has been. She is the Crone whose wisdom holds the world.

The great circle is cast and keeps turning. All around, the face of the Goddess looks on, a woman of many guises and many fates. For everything, there is a season: Maiden-Mother-Crone, one and the same and ever changing in the circle of time. They spin into one magnificent figure, one light, one song:

Holy one, Maiden-Mother-Crone

All honor unto you

You are Goddess

And as this light and song merge into you and fill you with the greatness of the ages, only one thing is certain: Thou are Goddess.

You are Goddess.

Petition Magic

The summer solstice was approaching. In Quebec, this means that two national holidays are around the corner and that summer would really be here to stay.

My good friends Jet and Valerie were sitting at the table, and we were all reveling in the warmth of good food, wine, and our friendship. We had studied occupational therapy together, and now we were all well into our second year of work in different settings. We liked taking care of people in their most difficult times. We had all found different niches, working with people of various backgrounds and conditions. Jet was working in a private clinic dealing with work-related injuries. Val devoted herself to taking care of the elderly in a long-term care facility. I had found my calling in helping people overcome their disabilities following strokes. My husband had been working as a radiology technician for a few years already. The change to full-time work status had definitely established itself. We saw the difference it had created in our lives. We were no longer the carefree students we had once been. Although we always had time for each other, the weight of responsibility was there and the demands of full-time work were taking a toll on our energies.

I turned to them and asked, “What do you want to accomplish before you die? What would make your life complete? What are your dreams—you know, those wild fantasies that make your heart fill to bursting? Imagine that you’re an old man or woman. What would you say about it all? Would you say, ‘There was a life worth living,’ or would you say, ‘Where did it all go? There were so many things that I wanted to do!?’”

We all fell silent. I fiddled with my wine glass. What did I dream of doing? I wanted a child to run into my arms, giggling. I wanted to write a book. I would love to dance in a major production. I want to walk into an art gallery and see my work. I want to write a song and hear it performed on stage or on the radio.

I looked up. Everyone had turned very serious; I could see a strange mixture of concern and hope on everyone’s face. “We all have something that drives us inside. So what are we doing about it?”

Jet looked up and said, “We are doing absolutely nothing about it. And there is no reason for that.”

I got up. I fetched paper and pencils, my cast-iron cauldron, and some matches. I put them on the table and said, “So let’s make it happen. Are you all in?” Everyone nodded solemnly. I smiled: “Welcome to your first spell!”

Each person took a paper and a pencil, and without showing anyone else, wrote down one dream they wished to see fulfilled. I struck a match and set my petition on fire. I put it in the cauldron and watched the fire engulf it. As all our papers were burning, I said, “These wishes need no longer be written on paper, for they will come to pass in reality. An it harm none, so mote it be!”

There was a new fire in the room, an energy that was palpable, a hope for all possibilities to come true. Val and I threw the ashes to the wind under a full moon. She hugged me. This was the birth of the Dreamers’ Club.

That night we were different people of different backgrounds, so I chose to perform a simple spell rather than a full-out ritual. On another occasion, had I been alone, I would probably have called the guardians at the four quarters and invoked my Lord Jesus and Lady Mary Magdalene to help me. They are usually part of my rituals because they are part of who I am, and they walk with me wherever I go. But here is an important distinction: one does not have to do magic within a religious framework all the time.

Raising energy, giving it form, and sending it toward a purpose is magic, pure and simple. And it does work based on the Will and the Word. If you wish to incorporate your deities into a ritual, it simply means that dimension is important to you and that you do not want to walk the unknown alone. Both types of magic will work. It is just a question of making this magic the most beautiful it can be for you.

Strong Magic

Sometimes I cast a circle when I’m in dire need of something: protection, security, clarity, peace, wisdom . . . But other times I find myself walking into a circle of the world’s making. My senses tingle, my vision sharpens, and I know that I am meant to do magic. I cleanse my space and ground myself and let magic unfold.

Archangel Raphael, guardian of the gates of the north, give us strength.

Archangel Gabriel, guardian of the gates of the east, give us wisdom.

Archangel Michael, guardian of the gates of the south, give us courage.

Archangel Uriel, guardian of the gates of the west, give us compassion.

I draw up the energy of the earth and send it around the circle. We are between the worlds, safe and strong.

Holy Mother and Holy Father, whose union creates all there is, I come to you with a special quest. Lord Jesus and Holy Mary, my guides, stand with me.

I conjure the image of my request in my mind. If I do not know what it is, I ask for guidance so that the energy that I raise will go for the highest good of all there is. I visualize myself placing this request on a stone slate in front of me.

Holy Ones, this is my request tonight. May it please you that it shall come to pass. An it harm none, so mote it be.

With the image of my purpose burning in my mind, I draw up energy from the earth and send it around the circle in a slow wave. This energy makes the circle brighter and brighter, rising into a vortex around me. As the energy mounts, the circle continues to spin up, tighter and brighter, into a strong and magnificent cone of power. You can hear the buzz of the energy, feel the warm air moving through your hair, and sense the heat it generates on your skin. When you feel the energy is at its maximum, raising high above your head, let it go, like an arrow released from a bow. Imagine the tip of the cone darting into the image of your query as you proclaim with a thunderous voice, “An it harm none, so mote it be!”

The energy is dispelled. Your circle is down. Thank your deities and the archangels for assisting you tonight. This rite is done.

Giving Thanks

The greatest lesson that I have learned as a Christian Witch is that life is full of abundance and that blessings ever flow for those who cultivate peace. With time, I found myself asking for less, recognizing all that was given to me. I used magic and ritual sparingly, and when I did it was mostly for creating sacred space in the world or for gaining insights into different situations. Every day I wake up, truly amazed at what has been given to me. Giving thanks for these blessings is only natural.

I start by preparing myself for this great encounter. I wash myself, letting water cleanse my body and relax my mind. I take special care with washing my hands, which will offer a special gift, and with my feet, which will walk on sacred ground. I place my hand on my heart, acknowledging what lies within, and on my third eye, seat of my vision into the other realm. I don a special garment and anoint myself with fragrant oil. It is a special occasion. The Great Spirit has done so much for me. It is only normal that I be fit to stand in her presence.

I have always lived close to water, and the more I worked with nature, the more flowing water held a special meaning for me. I walk to the water’s edge, close my eyes, and say:

Element of earth, rock of strength, hail and welcome.

Element of air, breath of inspiration and wisdom, hail and welcome.

Element of fire, flame of courage and passion, hail and welcome.

Element of water, source of love and compassion, hail and welcome.

Holy Mother, bounty of the earth, all glory to you.

Holy Father, spark of creation, hallowed be thy name.

With me at the water’s edge is the gift that I have brought. I bring different things, depending on the favor granted or the blessing I have received. It can be a bit of tobacco, as is customary in Native shamanic rites. On other occasions I have brought flowers or herbs, incense, or even bread to feed the ducks in the park. But the most perfect gift is yourself and your presence.

“Lord and Lady, I give you thanks for that which you have granted me. You have never left me in want, no matter the darkness of the hour or the greatness of my need. May this humble gift please you and sing the praises of your Names. Blessed be.”

My Body Is My Temple: A Day Retreat

“Three stalks of parsley, three of sage, three stalks of mint, three pinches of lavender, and three more of chamomile . . . ” I stood by the bubbling pot, stirring it, watching the leaves and flowers whirl hypnotically in front of my eyes.

Today was a day of spiritual rejuvenation, a closed retreat. This was a tradition that I had started after I began to work. I felt I needed extra time for myself and my physical health. Working on my psychic abilities and on my spiritual life meant that my body was exposed to new energetic demands. I wanted to give it something in return. So, I had taken the phones off the hook, and the TV was unplugged. Even the stereo was silent. I had woken up early and gone for a run. Now, I was preparing a spiritual bath according to a voodoo recipe. I poured in all the healing energy I could conjure. It was so soothing to participate in this little ritual. I felt connected to the Witches of old who not only conjured spells in the dark of night, but also got their hands dirty by digging up healing herbs from their gardens. I had chosen my herbs carefully for their powers of purification, protection, and relaxation. The smell arising from the cauldron testified to my wise decision.

I strained the herbs and collected the green infusion. I let it cool down somewhat, while I prepared my altar for meditation. When I was ready, I knelt in the bathtub and poured the warm liquid over me like a great, cleansing waterfall.