PaganPages.org» Diakonissa Sr Pamela

Esoteric Christian Witch

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Fri, 01 May 2009 06:10:46 +0000

May has always been known as the month of Mary, the mother of Yeshua/Jesus. In fact, the main verse of a long-beloved hymn, sung during the crowning with roses of the statue of Mary in May entitled “Bring Flowers of the Rarest” is, “Oh, Mary, we crown thee with blossoms today, Queen of the angels, Queen of the May”.
There are several feast days of Mary that are celebrated in the Church in May. May 12th is the feast day of Our Lady of the Divine Shepherd, May 15th is in honor of Our Lady of Fatima, May 24th for Our Lady, Help of Christians and May 31st celebrates both Our Lady Medatrix of All Graces as well as Our Lady, Virgin and Queen.
Devotees of Mary Magdalene celebrate two beautiful feast days; May 1st is the Feast of the Sacred Bride and on May 15th, the Festival of the Sacred Marriage. The Flowering of Divine Union, the beautiful ritual found in The Holy Book of Mary Magdalene by Jennifer Reif, may be performed on this day.
The feast day of St. Sarah the Egyptian, who to many, may very well have been the daughter of Yeshua/Jesus and Mary Magdalene is on May 24th.
All of these days may also be considered feast days of Holy Sophia as in the Esoteric, Gnostic and Christo-Pagan traditions, both Mother Mary and Mary Magdalene are considered to be either incarnations, archetypes or emanations of Sophia as both Mother/Barbelo and Daughter, however one may choose to perceive them.
May is also the traditional month of marriage. Certainly Beltane is the Feast Day of the Sacred Marriage, the Divine Union reflected here on Earth.
Most Pagan religions had God/Goddess consorts. Isis/Osiris, Odin and Frigga (or Freya), Zeus and Hera, Mercury and Rosemerta and Yehovah and Asherah are an example of Divine Unions.
Esoterics and Christo-Pagans also have a pantheon of Divine Consorts, a Triple Divine Consort, if you will. They consist of, as emanating from the androgynous Barbelo; the Sophia/Christos, Mother Mary/Joseph and Mary/ Yeshua/Jesus.
The May Queen’s Consort, Joseph, wasn’t as much largely forgotten in dogmatic teachings, as he was separated from Her. Dogma taught us that theirs was not a marriage in the fullest sense. It was as if they were married ‘in name, only’.
Joseph no longer appears in the bible after Yeshua is twelve years old, when He is found in the temple by his parents after they had been searching for him for three days. This led us to surmise that Joseph died between the time Yeshua was twelve years old and the time he started His public ministry. We were led to believe his death took place shortly after Yeshua was twelve. But, no-one really knows whether that was so or not. There were 18 years between that particular scene in the bible and the beginning of Yeshua’s ministry.
The May Queen and Her consort could have had a long-lasting, full and successful marriage. Or, She could have had a short and loving marriage. The point is, the May Queen had an husband, a Divine Consort. Their marriage, as well as the marriage of Mary Magdalene and Yeshua was a bringing down to Earth in archetype of the Bridal Chamber of the Christos/Sophia.
Some scholars are now of the consideration that Yeshua/Jesus sent out his disciples in pairs of two, not as two males, but as male/female partners, consorts who preached His teachings and ministered to the people in His Name. They are of a further mind that His teachings were actually about Sacred Partnership. This is an area in which the author intends further study.
The Queen of the May’s joyous celebration may take place on either May 1st or May 15th. The priestess would wear a crown of roses or other flowers in her hair and be dressed all in white.
Hymns are sung, the rosary (I substitute the word ‘children’ for ‘sinners’ in the traditional Hail Mary prayer) and/or the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary (a prayerful list of Mary’s attributes) may be recited followed by the placing of a small crown of roses on the statue of the Blessed Mother Mary. Many, at least it used to be so years ago, will carry a vase of a dozen roses or other of Her flowers into a church and place them at the base of Her statue.
Meditation could center around not only our Heavenly Queens, Sophia and the two Marys, but also the importance of Sacred Consort-ship.
Mother Mary’s colors are blue and white. Her flowers are red roses, white lilacs and white lilies. An enclosed “Mary Garden” may be planted at this time. The garden’s flowers could include roses, violets, morning glories, summer flox and peonies. St. John’s Wort is an herb in Her honor. Mayflowers and lily of the valley are Her wildflowers.
Rose incense and rose quartz would complete ritual items for Her feast day. An angel cake topped with strawberries would be a delicious finale to the feast.
The celebration of the Queen of the May is a living, albeit veiled, Goddess-centered tradition, a Tradition that has been continuously practiced for almost one thousand years. While stemming from the Church, it has many Pagan elements.
Our Queen also took part in a Divine Marriage. The Queen had a consort and so the Month of the Sacred Marriage reminds us to ponder Her own marriage as well as that of Her Son and Daughter-in-Law, reflections of below and above.
A picture of the work of the artist, Claire O’Hagan in decorating the Queen of the May statue in Ireland may be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/May%5FQueen.
– Blessed Be during the Month of Our Queen.

Esoteric Christian Witch

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 06:10:15 +0000

The Anointer of the Sacrificial King

Springtime will soon be upon us, for some sooner than others.
At this time of the Pagan/Heathen feast of Ostara and the Christian feast of Easter, we think of the resurrection of all life.
Life on Mother Earth and life within ourselves are yearly renewed with each blossom that pops through the soil and each new leaf budding on a delicate tree branch. Islands of ice begin to melt in the brooks revealing cold, fresh bubbling water flowing gracefully on its merry way through-out the awakening woodlands. The last of the winter snows refresh the ever greening grasses newly springing up to greet the mild southerly winds. Robins reappear in backyards pecking for elusive worms and the glorious sun shines ever more brightly with each new day, as the promise of summer approaches, yet again.
Before the resurrection of life, there must be the sacrificial death. We see this in Nature with each autumn and winter season. Trees fall into a deep slumber while seeds fall into the earth waiting to give fruitful re-birth in March, April and May.
We also see this life and death cycle reflected in the Pagan myths of the Sacrificial King who offers his life for the fertility of the land which will in turn, nurture his people for the coming year.
The Sacrificial King cannot perform this holy task on his own, however. He must be anointed by the priestess of the Great Goddess. It takes a royal partnership of the Sacred Union, a partnership of the Divine Male and the Divine Female acting through their incarnated representatives on Earth, to produce this Great Sacrifice of renewal. In acts of fertile sacrifice resulting in acts of new creation there must be the precious Sacred Balance of the Male and Female Energies which spark and sparkle into existence the Spiral Dance of the Universe.
Mary Magdalene was the High Priestess of the Great Goddess (Barbelo/Sophia/Isis/Astarte) who anointed the Sacrificial King of Christianity. The significance of this anointing, faithfully recorded in every Christian bible on Earth as fore-told by Yeshua/Jesus, Himself, has gone unnoticed and unrecognized for centuries upon centuries upon centuries.
The earliest Christians, many of whom were emerging from the great ancient Pagan and Mystery religions, recognized this act for what it truly was. However, within just a few hundred years from the infancy of Christianity, the true meaning behind the anointing and the real identity of the Anointer became buried beneath unbalanced male-dominated dogmas and rituals.
The evidence for the marriage of Jesus and Mary Magdalene will be borne out in a future article. Suffice it to say for now, that Yeshua/Jesus was of the Jewish royal blood-line. Mary Magdalene was His Royal Bride. As Her initiated priestess, I believe that Yeshua was an incarnation of the Divine Male. I also believe Mary Magdalene, His Consort, was an incarnation of the Divine Female.
This is the true Myth of Christianity, the myth that was drowned beneath waves of one stifling doctrine after another. This myth is now coming to light thanks to the scholarship of people like Margaret Starbird.
The Divine Sacred Union was never lost to us rather, it was hidden from us like a precious jewel which had been dropped, trampled upon and deeply embedded in the mud beneath mindless feet, waiting to be re-discovered by those who persistently sought for it. Those who sought for and found this jewel of Sacred Union within Christianity have graciously raised it to the Light, revealing it’s shining luminescent glory for all to see and rejoice.
Like the Pagan and Mystery religions of old as well as major religions like Hinduism, Christians also have a Divine Couple, a Sacred Balance, a Royal Bride and Bridegroom, a God and Goddess to honor and worship.
The Royal Bride, Mary Magdalene, anointed the Sacrificial King with her costly spikenard which was carefully sheltered within the swirling earth-toned colors of the alabaster jar. Without this anointing, Yeshua would not have been truly King, He would not have been the Messiah. A King must be anointed. Indeed, messiah means ‘anointed one’.
As Margaret Starbird states in her book, The Goddess in the Gospels, “The anointing of Jesus in the Gospels is an enactment of rites from the prevailing fertility cult of the ancient Middle East. In pouring her precious unguent of nard over the head of Jesus, the woman whom tradition has identified with ‘the Magdalene’ (the Great) performed an act identical to the marriage rite of the hieros gamous- the rite of anointing the chosen Bridegroom/King by the royal representative of the Great Goddess”.
She goes on to say, “Highlights of this story recounted in the four Christian Gospels are reminiscent of myths celebrated in pagan fertility cults of the Middle East, those of Tammuz, Dumuzi and Adonis. In the Pagan rituals surrounding the ancient myths, the Goddess (the Sister-Bride) goes to the tomb in the garden to lament the death of her Bridegroom and rejoices to find him resurrected.”
One has to wonder how differently Christianity would have evolved, both as a religion and within our own psyches, especially the psyches of countless generations of young girls and women, had the significance of this story and the true identity and role of Mary Magdalene not been lost to us over the aeons.
It was when I was Russian Orthodox that I first learned the legend of Mary Magdalene and the red egg. It is a tradition within the Orthodox Church to give red eggs as gifts during the feast of Pascha/Easter after the long winter-ending Fast of Great Lent.
The legend, as it was explained to me by a Russian priest, states that Mary Magdalene traveled to Rome and had an audience with Tiberius Caesar. A gift to the emperor was expected at the time of the visit. Mary Magdalene brought, as her gift, a simple white egg. The purpose of Her visit was to protest the death of an innocent man, Yeshua/Jesus under Pilate. She greeted Caesar with the words, “Christ is Risen”. Caesar replied with the disbelief that no-one could more rise from the dead than a white egg could turn red. As he spoke those words, the white egg held in Mary Magdalene’s hand slowly turned a deep crimson red. Mary Magdalene explained to Caesar that the red egg symbolized life rising from a sealed tomb. The Pagan emperor would have recognized the meaning behind life arising from a sealed tomb.
Each year, priestesses and devotees of Mary Magdalene place a red egg upon Her altar at Easter time in memory of this ancient miracle.
The rites and rituals of spring may include a reading or recitation of the tale of the Anointing and Sacrifice of the Great King by His Royal Bride. A story, in and of itself, that stemmed not just from the ancient Pagan rites but also within the true, inner tradition of Christianity. A story that has been long buried beneath the winter-snows of time and is now being resurrected amongst the lilies and lilacs of the spring of our century. A story that has been faithfully transmitted through legends, images and stonework.
In her book, The Holy Book of Mary Magdalene, the author, Jennifer Reif, has a beautiful spring ritual entitled, Day of the Verdent Magdalene, Grail of Earth and Heaven. Other rituals might possibly include a self-anointing of spikenard and myrrh as well as an offering of these precious ointments to Mary Magdalene, Herself. These sacred oils and ointments as well as candles and alabaster jars are available from www.abbaoil.com as well as other sources from Jerusalem.
Spring is a great time to plant an outdoor sanctuary garden in Her honor. Roses, lilies and fragrant herbs planted beneath an arbor covered in grapevines would create a tranquil surrounding for Her statue or the statues of the Christian Royal Couple.
Green is both the color of fertility and the color Mary Magdalene wears in many of the paintings and icons that have been drawn in Her honor.
Of course, hot cross buns, braided egg breads and roasted lamb are favorite feast foods at this time of year.
Without the Sacrifice of the Divine Father incarnate, there could be no Life. Without the Blessing/Anointing of the Divine Mother incarnate, there could be no Sacrifice. Such is the myth and story of Spring. Our Story. The Earth’s Story.
Along with our offerings this coming season, let gratitude and appreciation be the greatest amongst them. No matter what trials we may be currently under-going during this troubling economy, spring ever returns, the sun warms our hearts, blue skies form an heavenly horizon above our heads, gentle breezes kiss our cheeks, the Creative Pair’s artistry colors anew our daily surroundings, the full moon rises every month and lakes, streams, rivers and forests await our visit in order to soothe our anxious spirits.
Everyone, everywhere can plant a simple plot or potted garden of flowers, herbs and vegetables, tending Mother Earth and She tends us.
The Great Sacrifice of the Royal Couple, He, in the sacrifice of His very life, She, in the sorrowful anointing of and subsequent loss of Her Beloved, eternally begets the Great Resurrection and revival of all life everywhere.
Christians through-out the world remember and honor the sacrifice of Jesus/Yeshua at Easter-tide. Now, it is time to also remember and honor the One who anointed Him for His sacrifice, His Royal Bride, the One Who stands at His left-hand, Mary Magdalene. There is and always has been a Sacred Balance within Christianity’s core myths of sacrifice and resurrection. We just didn’t know. We didn’t remember.
At last, after hundreds of years of being labeled as a penitent prostitute, the Lost Bride, the Royal Anointer is rightfully being restored to Her Beloved, the Sacrificial and Resurrected Bridegroom/King of Easter.
“I am the first and the last. I am the honored and the scorned. I am the whore and the holy. I am the mother and the daughter. …Do not banish me from your vision….in no place, in no time, be unknowing of me. Be alert. Don’t be ignorant of me.” (excerpts from Thunder, Perfect Mind, a Gnostic text. Author, unknown.)
Diakonissa Sr. Pamela Lanides.

Sources:

The Goddess in the Gospels by Margaret Starbird.
The Holy Book of Mary Magdalene, The Path of the Grail Steward by
Jennifer Reif.
Thunder, Perfect Mind, Gnostic text, author, unknown.

Christian Magick, Then and Now

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 06:10:27 +0000

It might come as a surprise to learn that ancient Christians practiced magick. In fact, they had elaborate systems of magick ranging from healing spells, charms, amulets and erotic love spells to revenge curses as varied as separating a man from a woman and a curse against a woman’s face and work.
These were mainly Coptic Texts dating from the first century C.E. to the eleventh or twelfth centuries. Many of the texts invoke the Archangels. They include prayers, hymns, magickal words and involve chanting sacred vowel sounds while performing elaborate rituals. Upon studying them, the reader quickly gleans that these must have been powerful spells, indeed.
From my own life, growing up as a Catholic, I look back now and realize that we practiced our own cultural form of magick. This was a magick practiced by my ancestors for many centuries. And, yet, I could never see it as magick, until now.
We certainly didn’t consider our pious practices as being a form of magick. Our faith, our belief was absolute. The outcome was certain in our minds. We foresaw the end result in our imagination. Those three things, belief, direction of will and visualization are the basis of magick.
The saints were our version of the Gods and Goddesses and the Blessed Mother was our Queen of Heaven, our own veiled Divine Feminine. A crown of stars shone above her head and her feet eternally rest on a crescent moon.
There were many spells that we Catholics practiced, not realizing that they were spells. For example, place a dollar bill beneath a statue of the Infant of Prague and you will never lack for money. Or, pray the blessing before and after meals and nothing you eat will ever make you sick. Keep holy water at home to bless your house against demons, storms and evil and to bless yourself for health, grace and protection. Light a candle at church for a particular intention and leave a small offering of money for the candle. Novenas are nine days of prayer to the Blessed Mother, Jesus or to a saint or archangel, nine being a magickal number. I’ve never, ever known a novena to fail.
Pray the daily rosary and fifteen promises would be obtained. Wear a blessed medal and you will be protected. Go to church the day after Candlemas on the feast of St. Blase and have a priest place two candles on your throat in blessing. The candle blessing will heal and protect your throat. Bring the blessed palms home from church on Palm Sunday and place them in your home for yearly protection and blessing.
The important thing to note is that the work depended, not upon the person performing it but, upon the deity or saint invoked.
The Traditional Catholic Church has maintained a beautiful ritual that was performed each year, in every parish, before the vast changes of the council of Vatican II occurred. Every year, on May 15th, the parishioners would form a long, out-door procession in front of the church doors. The priest, carrying a silk pillow upon which lies a crown of fresh roses, lead the way round a winding path to a large statue of the Blessed Virgin which was flanked by meticulously trimmed shrubs shading pockets of marigolds and zinnias. A troupe of altar boys, the eldest carrying the processional cross, dressed in traditional white and black flowing robes, swung their incense from side to side while chanting the prayer responses in Latin. Girls followed along, dressed all in white, their heads were draped in white lace mantillas while a basket of rose petals graced their wrists. Garlands of flowers crowned their mantillas.
A long parade of the faithful, women and girls in skirts and long mantilla veils, men and boys dressed smartly in their Sunday suits and ties, followed along behind the statue of Our Lady with deep reverence and heart-felt love. They clutch rosaries and wear the Miraculous Medal, in honor of Our Lady.
Forming a ring around the statue of the Virgin Mary, the crowd sung sweet, uplifting hymns and devoutly recited the prayers, heads bowed low or eyes gazing hopefully at Our Lady.
Sweet, exotic smelling incense wafts towards the statue and billows over the crowd. The priest ascends a small step-ladder and places the precious crown of roses upon the statue. Our Lady, Queen of Heaven, is now also Queen of the May, as the hymn pronounces Her. This can be performed as a solitary within the home sanctuary.
How magickal, how Goddess-honoring, how beautiful is this ritual? It’s an ancient, yet still living, unbroken tradition held within the remnants of today’s Traditional Chapels.
Modern day Esoteric Christians (and anyone else who would find this of interest) inherit the ancient Judaic-Christian tradition of a wide array of magick and ritual. Kabbalistic magick both esoteric and practical, kabbalistic tarot along with esoteric meditations on The Sphere, the Fiery Spear, The Grail and The Lance of Light all figure greatly in the Esoteric Christian tradition. Other Christians, including many clergy, are attracted to Enochian magick.
A potent form of healing and protection magick may be practiced by anointing the forehead with a biblical oil while praying specified psalms. There is also the Templar Tradition and other magickal Orders from which to choose and learn. Mojo bags accompanied by psalms or prayers fit quite nicely within the Christian magickal tradition.
Novenas remain a powerful source of help no matter what the need. Each saint is the patron of a certain cause. St. Lucy is the patron saint of eyes. St. Gerard Majella is the patron of expectant mothers and young children while St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless cases. There are hundreds of saints all with a particular area of specialty. At the beginning of the novena, one may light a blessed and consecrated glass-encased novena candle with appropriate herbs floating beside the wick.
The Element Encyclopedia of 5,000 spells by Judika Illes contains many saint-oriented spells including a number of spells invoking Mary Magdalene.
Wanding, by Evan Twede remains a form of magick that can be practiced by anyone of any faith or tradition. The wand is named and undergoes a special consecration ritual. A few simple words invokes your spirit ally into the wand. Sometimes, when performed against a white background, a blue aura can be seen as soon as the spirit of the wand is called into the world, the wood, the wand. The wand becomes much more than a tool, it becomes your closest ally. Wanding is simple, easy and effective.
For those who join certain Gnostic or Esoteric Orders or schools, many powerful rituals become available.
A mystical magician is one who works in harmony with God (the Father and Mother) and is able to become a link between the outer and inner creations or worlds. A Christian Witch strives to become the mystical magician.

Sources not cited:
Experience of the Inner Worlds, by Gareth Knight.
Magical Christianity by Coleston Brown.
Ancient Christian Magic by Marvin W. Meyer and Richard Smith.

Candlemas, From Ice to Light

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 06:10:48 +0000

Each year, I strive to find personal meaning in Imbolc/Candlemas. The Pagan festival of the birth of lambs has nothing to do with my life. I don’t live on a farm. There are no sheep or lambs frolicking merrily on hills nearby. Nor, am I a personal devotee of the Goddess Bridget, although I do have honor and a great respect for Her.
The beginning of Feb. in New England is much too early to be looking forward to Spring. Looking towards Spring in early Feb. would be raising a false hope which would thereafter be dashed deep into the frozen ground by the stark reality of two more months of snowstorms followed by a month of ice storms. I don’t allow the Jan. thaw to fool me. I won’t allow Candlemas to fool me, either. My corner of the world does not start to thaw until the middle of April and does not blossom until early May. So, while Imbolc/Candlemas may have brought the hope of an early Spring to the ancient Celts, it’s still dark, frigid and blustery in North Central Massachusetts, with no end in sight until the Turning of the Wheel on Beltane.
A recent event radically brought Candlemas to my mind. That recent event will go down in local history as the Great Ice Storm of ’08. We New Englanders weather Spring ice storms each year. There’s always some debris from broken branches in our yards and the danger of slippery roads for traveling. Ice storms are very pretty, beautiful even, but not fun.
This year, for the first time that any of us can remember in our lifetimes, we had an ice storm in December. Not March, not April, December. Yup, this is the land of 40- 60 degree temperature changes in one day. The joke about New Englanders skiing in shorts and a parker is a reality, not a joke. The Yankee saying, ‘if you don’t like the weather in New England, just wait a minute’ is very true. Sort of.
Dec. 11, 2008 started out as an usually warm and rainy day. A torrential torrent of about three to four inches of rain fell in the afternoon. The remnant of the storm froze to sleet during the early evening. That night, the temperature tumbled down to just ten degrees above zero.
Darkness fell upon 21 towns in my area of north-central Mass/southern NH. Highways and most roads in each town were closed. Massive power outages had occurred. Entire electrical grids had been destroyed. Main power lines were down, everywhere.
While I was aware that our power had gone out, I didn’t realize the immensity of what had taken place during the previous night until I tried to drive to work the next morning.
It was like entering an alien world. Tall trees had been cracked in half as if lightning had struck thousands of them at once while picking and choosing the next victim from amongst the survivors. Fallen trees were strewn carelessly across the road, one after another, as if a tornado had touched down every quarter of a mile. Never, had I driven over one power line after another after another as if they were merely markers along the road. I had to drive in the opposite lane around the edges of ice-laden fallen trees and slowly sneak beneath power lines that grazed the roof of my car, hoping against hope that they were not live wires. I will never forget that eerie, other-worldly ride to work for as long as I live. Of course, there was no power or phone lines at work.
For as far as I could see, the world around me was encased beneath inches-thick ice. The surviving trees were bent low to the ground. They groaned and creaked beneath the enormous weight of the ice. Toppled telephone poles in the center of towns made you wonder if someone had set off a series of bombs.
Areas that were once private were now in full view due to the massive, wide-spread devastation. I dread to see the woods when I walk on the trails this Spring. It will make me cry.
Everyone had a story. Within my own family, there was a tree that broke through the roof and living room ceiling, two cars were dented and windshields smashed beneath fallen trees, each and every transformer blew along the road before the telephone poles toppled to the ground, appliances were lost during a power surge. A friend lay awake all night, listening to the trees, limbs and ice surrounding his home come crashing to the ground.
Stores, gas stations and work-places were closed. When one small store opened due to the use of a generator, we lined up for coffee, sharing our stories with strangers.
The headline of one local newspaper was most apt, “CRUSHED”.
I had to drive a total of 12 miles before I found cell-phone service. I immediately called my visiting daughter to warn her not to drive home to Boston in order to go to work. At that very moment, she was stopped in her car on the way to the gas station, stunned. Before her lay a scene that she described as being possible only in a disaster movie. Two large trees lay across the road stacked one upon one another. On top of the trees lay two telephone poles, the total height of which dwarfed the policemen who were frantically waving to her to immediately turn around.
Next, I called my two youngest sons to warn them not to venture out of their home as a state of emergency had been declared by the governor. Naturally, they were out joy-riding with their video cameras. Figures, I sighed to myself. My husband was out and about in the process of trying to save thousands of dollars worth of tropical fish.
This was the first year that we did not have a wood stove. By the night of Dec. 12th, the interior temp of the house swiftly dove down to 46 degrees. My son’s house was down to 31 degrees. My husband, daughter and I decided to take a brief drive in order to warm up in the truck before hunkering down for the night. We drove up the hill to an old cemetery. The stark, cold beauty we encountered there was virtually indescribable.
It was the night of the full moon. There was not an artificial light anywhere around, for miles and miles. The moon lit up the icy panorama around us. There was just the light of that brilliant, huge, white moon hanging, seemingly almost within reach, above us and nothing else. Two tall trees had survived the storm. The canopies of the trees shone with what seemed to be an interior light shining from within the ice, so bright was the Snow Moon that night. The world around us sparkled and glittered as if a fountain of diamonds had opened from the cosmos and became embedded in the trees and blanketed the Earth. I simply had to stand outside in that severe cold in order to breathe in the beauty and bask in the quiet, sparkling solitude.
Later on that night, I gazed out the window close to midnight. The entire outdoors was ablaze with a cold, dazzling, glittering ice-fire so bright I could see everything as clear as day. I had never seen anything like this. I was awestruck.
This was our first winter without a wood stove due to a recent move. But, being a nun, deaconess and witch, you can be assured that I always have plenty of candles on hand. We filled each room with natural light and spent the evening playing cards, talking and laughing together, huddled beneath shawls, sweaters and fingerless gloves.
As I fell asleep that night, I realized what Candlemas was going to mean to me from now on because of the Great Ice Storm of ’08. The awe-inspiring natural beauty that I had witnessed on the night of the Snow-Moon, the night of the glowing ice-fire, was a once in a life-time event
As I write this, it is now nine days after the storm. We were of the lucky few who received our power back after only three days. We were able to shelter family members within the renewed warmth of our home this past week. Most towns have had their power restored yet, there are still many within each town who don’t have it back. Some have wood stoves. Some have generators. Many are staying in hotels and shelters. Several towns have been told it will be another two or three weeks because it is not just a matter of restringing wires but rather, it’s a matter of rebuilding the destroyed grids from the ground up. We have received help from the National Guard and from power companies from as far away as Indiana and Ohio down to PA, Tennessee and Fla. All are working tirelessly, 16-18 hour shifts. They will be missing Christmas with their families. We are so grateful for their assistance.
What will Candlemas mean to me, now? For me, Candlemas will forever be a celebration of the moon-struck, ice frosted dance of nature that I was so very privileged to witness. It will be a remembrance of the many who traveled from so far away to help us for, without their help, we would still be in the cold and dark. When I light my 13 candles on Candlemas in my cauldron strewn with herbs, I will remember and know that no matter how dark or cold the night, the moon will always cast its protective glow upon my world. My ritual will be a celebration of the natural light of the many candles that guarded us from the encroaching house-darkness. Yule may represent the re-birth of the infant Sun, but Candlemas will mean that the Light is always there during the long, winter night, reflected by the moon, the ice and shining within the candle-light and the hearth-fire. We are never alone in the dark. There is always Light.
May you all have a Happy New Year and a very Blessed Candlemas.

The Christian Pantheon at Yuletide

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 05:10:49 +0000

Years before I rather, due to unforeseen circumstances, fell under the potentially incendiary term of becoming a Christian Witch, I was intrigued by the concept of the Triple Goddess.
The subtle beckoning of both the Triple Goddesses Bridget and Hecate tugged at my heart, yet I felt hesitant about calling upon Them or inviting Them into my life.
In many ways, I was quite drawn to Hecate, but I harbored a bit of fear or should I say a deep respect regarding her Dark Mother/Crone aspects. I wasn’t sure I could safely handle those aspects.
The Goddess Bridget had been turned into St. Bridget by the Catholic Church. Try as I might, I couldn’t separate the two in my mind. So, for me and in all un-fairness to Her, Bridget was ‘too Catholic’. The desire for the Triple Goddess to enter my life and to join in my rituals lingered within the misty yearnings of my soul, but I gave up my search for Her.
About a year after I became a Sophian Gnostic nun and an Esoteric Christian deaconess and priestess, I sat before my altar and fell into contemplative thought, a kind of meditative trance.
My altar is graced with statues of Holy Sophia, the Blessed Mother and Mary Magdalene. Living devotional flames illumine the feet of each Goddess. Their iconic images, believed by Orthodox Christians to be literal windows to Heaven, hang on the wall above my altar breathing jasmine incense and receiving warmth from the olive oil nourished icon lamp, a hanging sentinel of light.
As I gazed upon my statues, a revelation struck me, soared through me and melted the phoenix-fired core of my soul. Actually, it was a ‘duh’ moment. I have the Triple Goddess! She has already entered my life! Her triple reflection, Her triple images are right before my eyes. She’s been with me for a while now, yet I hadn’t recognized Her.
Her maiden aspect is the Holy Mary Magdalene, High Queen, priestess. The Mother aspect is Blessed Mary, the Queen Mother. As Grandmother Wisdom She is Sophia, the Divine Source of the Feminine.
When you know something is right, you just know it. This form of the Triple Goddess is right for me. She was and is my Truth. This Triple Goddess resonates and echoes through-out all the auras of my being. Her, I could believe in with all my heart, all my soul and all my mind. They are one and are all manifestations of the Barbelo. The Triple Goddess of all Christian Witches and Esoteric Christians who so choose to honor Her as such.
But what about the male aspects of my Christian pantheon? It had been a while since I had considered myself a Christian. I wasn’t sure about my relationship with Jesus. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back to Jesus.
The Big Book of Near Death Experiences, by P.M.H. Atwater, made a deep impression on me. Initially, I had hesitated to buy it. The title struck me as one of those books you’d be embarrassed to purchase. However, my curiosity overcame my false sense of pride. I’m glad it did. The title is both misleading and accurate at the same time. This almost 450 page book includes both sides of the question of near death experiences. It includes the side which claims through science that near death experiences are a phenomena of dying neurons in the brain alongside the opposing testimonies of those who have died and come back. The book also includes the writings, with thirty years of experience behind them, of many experts in the field
One of the main things my soul and psyche soaked in from this book was the reality of the Divine Light. This Light is described as brighter than a million suns, yet It doesn’t harm the eyes. It is described as being pure, unconditional love, intelligent, caring and non-judgmental.
Yes, I could believe in the Divine Light, the All-Source.
When I began, after more than a decade, to re-read the Bible, both Gnostic and Church-ordained canon, the passages about the Light appeared to highlight themselves before my eyes. Flying arrows of thought, rushing messengers of understanding between my Higher Delta Self and my beta brain, acting in the manner of the Tarot eight of wands rushing towards their destination, pierced their way through my consciousness. These verses aren’t just metaphors! They are describing a literal Divine Light which we encounter in the next realm! Those who have died and come back to life have seem It! They have experienced It! They have learned from It!
The book goes on to describe the next level which, after the All-Source-Million-Suns-Light, many describe a bright, Father-male Light and a dark, Female Light, both of which emanate from the All-Source.
Great by me. This all confirms both my Wiccan and my Esoteric Christian beliefs in that a Divine Masculine and a Divine Feminine emanate from the All-Source.
Sigh, but what about Jesus?
I simply couldn’t go back to my old beliefs and my old practices. I had fought too hard for many years and had come too far in my spiritual life and freedom to retreat back into my old fear-based belief-system and accompanying mindset. This mindset equated Jesus with its own self.
“My leaving the Christian Church wasn’t because of Jesus. I left it because of the Church system and the way the Church portrayed Jesus,” I continually reminded myself.
At this point in my internal struggle, I entered the whole mythic vs historical Jesus debate. In searching for the absolute Truth about Jesus, I participated in online arguments through my Gnostic forum, I surfed every pertinent website I could find and I poured over countless books authored by biblical scholars. The search was head-spinning and mind-numbing.
My ending determination was that both sides have entirely valid points and neither argument is stronger than the other. I did notice, in all aspects of my reading, that those on either side of the fence are firmly entrenched in their opinions.
Slowly, it began to dawn on me that it doesn’t matter who or what Jesus was or whether He was historical or mythical. Mythical, in this case, meaning an underlying Cosmic Reality beneath the stories. Rather, I became drawn to the enigmatic Jesus of the Gospel of Judas, the Hero of the Cosmic Mysteries in the Pistis Sophia and the magickal Jesus of the Round Dance of the Cross. This is the Jesus Who invited me to see Him in a New Light. He is the Twin Aeon of Sophia, the Logos of St. John and the Divine Christos of Humanity.
It is His teachings which are important, both exoteric and esoteric, not whether He was pre-ordained to die on the cross for our sins, whether or not the resurrection really happened or if He truly physically ascended into Heaven. For many, these things are important and help to define their faith and that is fine. I had to come to terms with these questions for myself. And so, I realized that the Sophian/Christos Light-Spark dwells within me and within all.
The Gnostic Jesus is the Jesus I could accept. My Christian pantheon now consists of the All-Source/Divine Light/Father, the Gnostic Jesus/Son and the Triple Goddess, Herself.
Yuletide is both a Pagan Mythic Holiday and a Christian Mystery Play. As Pagans, we welcome the birth of the Sun and witness the triumph of the Oak King over the Holly King. As Christians, we celebrate the birth of the Son and witness the triumph of good over evil.
This Yuletide I will be celebrating the birth of the infant Sun beneath the stars and moon, with my cakes and wine, my songs, prayers and poetic myths. This Christmas I will be celebrating the birth of the infant Son beneath angelic choirs and Heaven, with my cakes and wine, my carols, prayers and poetic scriptures. For you see, the essence of the Eternal Story ever remains the same for All is One.
As we ignite our candles during this great Festival of Light, may we remember that we are all birthing our own Sun/Son within and as the Season of the Wheel continues to turn, so must the Sun/Son within continue to wax larger and brighter until It bursts through our representative personality masks which populate this incarnational matrix game and blazes forth as a thousand suns, yet never harming the eye. The message is simple. Love God, find your Divine Sun/Son Spark within and bring it without, love others and harm none.

May the Gnostic Jesus continue to dwell and grow within my own soul.
May the True Sun/Son of All dwell and grow within yours.
A Joyous and Blessed Yule/Christmas to all.

Journey Towards Christian Witchcraft

Diakonissa Sr Pamela — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 04:01:10 +0000

This article is dedicated to Father Jordan Stratford+ of the Apostolic Johannite Church and fellow witch, who helped me to find Holy Sophia.

My long, agonizing journey towards becoming a Christian Witch began on the day that I left the Christian Church forever, which was thirteen years ago. After having been an Ultra- Traditional Catholic followed by my conversion to the Russian Orthodox Church, one day, I simply walked out of the 2,000 year old, heavy oaken Christian door and never looked back. Or, so I thought at the time.
Leaving Christianity had nothing to do with Jesus Christ or his Mother Mary, the latter, to whom I had been deeply devoted all my life.
I finally had enough of the rules and regulations regarding every aspect of my mind, body and soul. I was done with the politics and the scandals which touched me, personally. I was finished with the hypocrisy of a priesthood that didn’t always follow it’s own rules, alongside a male hierarchy which felt it had a God-ordained right to instruct me as how to conduct the most private parts of my life under pain of ever-lasting fire, anguish and desolation. I was angry, very, very angry.
The first thing I was determined to do upon my new-found freedom, was to read every book that had been banned to me as both a Catholic and as an Orthodox Christian. Anything that had been deemed heretical, I read, most voraciously.
My eyes slowly opened to a greater, wider truth. Hmmm, Church history wasn’t quite what I was taught. Gee, St. Dominic and St. Simon Stock were torturers. Wow, the Church wasn’t exactly ‘in place’ from the very beginning. What, there were ‘other’ gospels? And, oh, most of our holidays and even some of our ‘saints’ came from Pagan places and myths, what do you know? And, omg, you mean the Resurrection could actually have been a MYTH?
Well, that’s that. St. Paul said that if the Resurrection did not take place then there was no point to being a Christian. (Pardon my paraphrase.) Well, that was good enough for me. I could now happily leave Christianity with a clear conscience. The in-bred fears, however, took years to overcome.
A day in the bookstore brought me to the most evil of part of the store, the New Age Section. The section at which I used to glance quickly with judgmental derision.
I knew that the New Agers consisted of a vast net-work of the most highly sophisticated entrepreneurs, a matrix of high-placed businesses and people which and who were connected to each other in a web-like conspiracy that prefigured the vast cyber-maze of the internet.
The New Age Powers that Be were obscenely wealthy people who, through invading our schools and infiltrating our homes and bookstores, were going to take over the world for the very-soon-to-appear-upon-the-Earth, Anti-Christ. This was the absolute Truth. I had been taught this at Church and I had read it in many a bona-fide Christian book.
Funny thing was, I had always secretly whispered to myself that if I wasn’t such a staunch, loyal Orthodox/Catholic (they were both one Church for the first thousand years) Christian, I would so love to be New Age with the crystals, the fairies and the tarot cards! How fun would that be? What a joyous spirituality!
That’s the way the world should be; magick flowing through the air, so thick you could feel and sense it. The glowing light of fairies hidden beneath draping willow trees. The mists of the lake, beckoning you to dwell within its swirling multi-dimension, veil-ripping-connecting energies. The tropical breeze-kissed mid-summer nights, enticing you to venture beyond your own drab world to Summerland.
Back at the bookstore, The Mists of Avalon looked intriguing, as well as the books by Scott Cunningham, who-ever he was. What kind of name is SilverRavenWolf? I figured I might as well read what she had to say, also. And, as I began to read these bizarre, almost fearful and bordering on the spiritually dangerous books, I began to remember……
I remembered how my pockets were always filled with special rocks and gemstones, nestled alongside the little white, cloth ghosts that I both made and named (after the gemstones), until I was 11 and such things became too childish.
I remembered that I could talk to and understand the trees, at least, until I was 13 and high school began to overwhelm me.
I could gaze into a brook and become so connected to it, I could so feel it’s spirit, I could so meld as one with it, I so understood it, that is, until I turned 14 and the brook was covered in pavement.
I remembered the stars, the planets, the star clusters, galaxies and quasars.. my greatest passion and the greatest love of my life, the Cosmos, until I turned 16 and realized that I was never going to be an astronomer.
I remembered the forest, the home place, the most safe place, the most secure place, the place where I belonged, until I turned 17 and entered the ‘real world’ of working to make money and searching for my future husband.
I remembered the magick I used to try to practice, until I turned 18 and started studied Christianity as an adult.
I remember the moon, who was my very best friend ever since I was five years old and she followed me home from school one day, (except back then, I got the impression that the moon was male,) until I was married and had to focus on raising children.
I don’t know nor understand what happens to us as we get older. I no longer want to understand. But, it’s so wonderful to know that we can get it back, again. It grew stronger each year that I was, well, to use a term that I never really, actually wanted to use let alone fully acknowledge to myself, a witch.
I’m no-one special. I don’t want to be part of a fad. I have no special ‘powers’ or secret knowledge. There are so many who leave me in the dust when it comes to occult knowledge and the practice of magick. But, when you get right down to it, I guess I have to admit, I am a witch.
I thought to myself at the time, Wicca is the most perfect religion in the world. Just perfect. My Hand-fasted husband thought so, too. It was great to have his support in my new-found religion.
, home-study courses, tons of reading and lots of magickal practice took up the next five or six years of my life. The Sabbats and Esbats, well, they were just awesome, to say the least. My own personal rituals consisted of prayers, poems, magick and a true Goddess-Communion.
I found Wanding, by Evan Twede and became a wanding practitioner. I studied the Tarot and Runes (didn’t really ever get to crystals but, I still love them) along with the use of the pendulum.
On a trip with my sister to Louisiana, where I had lived for a time as a child, I both read about and marked the tomb, in New Orleans, of Marie Laveaux, with three x’s and left a lit candle. (This was the November before Katrina.)
The study of reincarnation simply gave life a whole new meaning. Reincarnation gave life the meaning of Hope. This wasn’t an all or nothing life, after all. We have plenty of time to get it right.
The greatest gift that I have received from Wicca is not only this great feeling of flying freedom but, it has reconnected me to my Mother, to Nature, Herself, to what I knew was true in my childhood but, now I understand things at a more mature and wiser level. At least I hope so, anyway.
There was always something missing for me from Wicca, though. I tried and tried to connect with the Old God/desses, the old pantheons. I endeavored to bring forth the meaning of the old myths into modern life. Aside from a connection to Woden and my ancestral Gallic Goddess, Sequanna, it just wasn’t working for me.
Despite my maternal Breton ancestral background, the Celtic myths didn’t touch me, they didn’t reach my soul. The Celtic pantheon just felt distant and alien to my sensibilities.
I understood the concept that there are many Goddesses who are all aspects of the Great Goddess. Heck, I had been Catholic. We had dozens of different names for the Blessed Virgin Mary, all with different aspects, myths, messages, colors and costumes. But, somehow, the pantheon part of being Pagan/Wiccan just wasn’t working for me.
The other cultural pantheons felt even more remote. I was an American living in the 21st century. I wanted to discover the true Universal Divine Feminine for now, not the Tribal Goddesses of old.
I wanted to know HER Name. HER true Name. I wanted to know Who She really Was/ Is and Will Be Forever with every quantum particle of my being, with every breath from my lungs, with every beat of my heart, with every firing neuron of my brain. I wanted to know Who She truly is, now, for me. I wanted to know Her very Name.
There was another aspect of being Pagan/Wiccan that was sorely lacking in my practice and that was a disparity of a profound depth of spiritual life. Sure, the rituals, the magick, the divination and even the meditation were all great but, it just felt like something huge was missing.
And that is when I found, through Father Jordan Statford+, the Holy Sophia. Sophia Who is The Holy Spirit, the Feminine Face of the Very God, the True Divine Light, Isis, incarnate, Mother Mary, incarnate, Mary Magdalene, incarnate, all in Her various aspects, Whose Daughter is Eve. The Breath of the Shekinah. She Who was hidden in the form of the ancient Jewish Goddess, Asherah. She is the Gnostic Barbelo, the True Divine Feminine, descended to us, Herself. She is beyond Goddess. She Was, Is and Forever Will Be.
It was only when I found Sophia that the Charge of the Goddess truly came alive for me, for Whom the poetry truly made sense and in Whom the words were completely validated. She was, is and ever will be, the Soul of Nature. She was, is and ever will be, our true divine Mother. She and She alone, is truly within and without. I had found Her.
I rushed outside and whispered to the night, “Sophia, is it You?” And a sudden rush of wind answered, ‘yes’.
Thanks to Father Jordan’s patience, I learned that I couldn’t separate Sophia from the Gnostic Christian myth nor from her Twin, the Divine Christos. I learned about Cosmic myth and it’s meaning. I learned the importance of not taking exoteric Christianity as a literal/black/white/set in stone fact.
I had to come face to face with and wrestle against, as if my very life depended upon it, the black demons of my former Christianity to the point where I literally felt like I was about to lose my mind and I had to pray for help like I’ve never prayed, before.
I once had to learn to become free through Wicca. Now, I had to learn to become free within Gnostic/Esoteric Christianity. I had to come to terms with my Catholic/Orthodox background. And, when I did, a whole new universe of spiritual wonder opened up before me.
We have to see things as cosmic realities, not Earth-bound realities. All of our religious truths, from every single religion in this world, including Christianity, all of them contain golden nuggets and rainbow embedded jewels of a world beyond us that we only see in a darkened mirror, as St. Paul said.
There is nothing wrong with Christianity. There is nothing wrong with Wicca. One is not more ‘true’ than the other. They just both need to be expanded beyond this earthly/political plane to encompass the spiraling dimensions of what lies beyond the veil. One does not preclude the other. They just both have to be seen in a New Light. The True Light of our True Father and our True Mother.
Did you know that Jesus, in certain Gnostic Gospels referred to the Holy Spirit as His Mother? Did you know that ancient Christians practiced a very powerful and potent form of magick? Did you know that there was an ancient form of Christianity that was very different for the modern form? Did you know that many of the teachings of Jesus might have come from Egypt?
The combination of Esoteric and Gnostic Christianity along with the deep prayerful life of the Exoteric Church and the natural, magickal life of Wicca has completed my journey towards becoming a Christian Witch. Or, more specifically, a Sophian Gnostic-Esoteric Witch.
I have found the Great Goddess, the True Divine Feminine, Most Holy Sophia, for Whom I had searched so long.
Do yourself a favor, if you are searching for the Goddess, read Thunder, Perfect Mind, in the Gnostic texts or online and you will find Her. Read the Gnostic, Song of the Pearl, and you will find out what life is all about. Read the Gnostic, Round Dance of the Cross, and you will find a different, ritualistic Jesus.
I have found the spiritual depth and abiding, soul-nourishing prayerful/spiritual life for which, as a Pagan, I had searched for so many years. And, I’ve learned to combine them with the re-connection to Nature that I have so preciously re-learned and re-experienced through Wicca.
Father Jordan Statford+ once told me that Wicca was designed to lead to Gnosticism and that journeying from Wicca to Gnosticism was like following the breadcrumbs Home. He was right. But, for both Father Jordan+, myself and many other Gnostics, both Christian and non-Christian, that does not mean you have to leave the witchcraft behind.
So, yes, I guess you could say I am a Christian Witch. I am now spiritually complete. I feel I have the best of all spiritual worlds, so to speak. Those who feel that Christianity and Wicca/Witchcraft do not mix, truly do not see Christianity in its true Light nor in it’s true evolution from Egypt through Israel and beyond to the East and West. Prejudices must be put aside. Toleration and education are the key.
No journey is traveled without the greatest of teachers of whom I send my most heart-felt gratitude: Gerald O’Donell, of the Academy of Remote Viewing and Influencing who, more than anyone, taught me that we are One, my truly loving mentor, Dr. Katia Romanoff, of the Mystery Schools at Northernway.org and The Church of the Way, of whom I have the highest regard and is, perhaps, my idol in this life, Deacon Anthony Silvia, of the Apostolic Johannite Church, whom I miss dearly and from whom I gained a wealth of Gnostic learning, my dearly and beyond any imagining, most beloved, Rev. Mother Marsha Emrick+, Gnostic Priest of the Gnostic Church of St. Mary Magdalene, Buddhist, proctor of our Order of Gnostic nuns and Wiccan high priestess, and especially, Father Jordan Stratford+, Arch-priest of the Apostolic Johannite Church, proctor of the monks of our Gnostic Order of St. Esclarmonde and witch, whose patience, love and caring knows no bounds. He is the one who helped me find Sophia and he is the one to whom this article is dedicated.
Thank you all, for helping this poor, wandering soul, to find her Path.
May you all, dear readers, find your true path. May you find your true teachers to guide you along the way.
It can be a long, deeply frustrating and precariously steep mountain road full of switch-backs and down-ward slides, but the Treasure, that precious Pearl is worth the journey. Keep your mind OPEN.
May you be Blessed during the coming Yule season.
Diakonissa Sr. Pamela Lanides, O.S.E., O.D.M., O.M.M.