The views expressed in this article are the author’s own experiences, and do not represent Ordo Templi Orientis in the UK or otherwise.

“The magick. The magick is very powerful. You might leave with a big smile on your face and you don’t know where it’s come from, or you might not get anything for a couple of days. But you’ll get something.” I say to Thomas.

Contains meat, for those who choose to consume it…

I’m leaning against my car, desperately trying not to show how hungry I am as I wolf down a chicken and bacon sandwich one of my Camp has kindly foraged for in the local Tesco’s. An affable young man, with more than a touch of nervousness about him, has come to attend a celebration of Liber XV: the Gnostic Mass at Shemyaza Camp in Brighton, and I am trying to make encouraging conversation in between mouthfuls. Brother Adrian, President of the Electoral College of UK Grand Lodge, O.T.O., will be giving an address beforehand which I am eager to hear, having booked him as a speaker for the Occult Conference 2014 in Glastonbury.

Thomas looked not unlike a rabbit-worrier caught in the headlights, after falling down a particularly unsympathetic rabbit-hole. I had been trying to make small talk on what was laughably becoming my lunch “quarter-hour”, perhaps in hindsight I should rather have taken my time amongst the beautiful stars of the Order shining brightly outside Shemyaza’s venue, or sitting in my car after the long drive, but I felt compelled to offer warmth and hospitality to those who had never been before. Thomas looked like he needed warmth more than anyone; the grey September day must have drizzled upon him particularly hard, but being from Manchester it was lovely weather where I was standing.

I had come to Brighton by way of Hastings, where I had been performing Initiations into Ordo Templi Orientis the day before. A five hour drive from Glastonbury via Bournemouth with three brethren, after a full week of work and script-learning, a brief sleep overnight, a full day of ritual rehearsal and performance, and an evening of feasting. In an alternate universe I would have been enjoying a lazy Sunday around the Lodge rather than talking to this chap and his lank hair and expensively worn-looking schoolteacher’s jacket, but the call had come in from the Body Master in Brighton that they required some Officers for the Mass – and Calix Sanctus, our Camp, would not be found wanting.

First thing that morning I had awoken, performed Resh and spent time in meditation; then I washed dishes from the Feast, made coffee for everyone, sounded the alarm, and tidied the Lodge. We were out of there by ten fifteen, tired but happy, and headed to Brighton. Upon reaching our destination, carefully driving my battered Ford Mondeo up the gravel path and under scaffolding by a block of flats, we reach the community centre which Shemyaza rents at fair expense without expecting a penny in donations for its rituals. We hopped inside, helped to raise the Temple, and had a thorough rehearsal of the Mass. One of my sisters from Glastonbury, herself only recently baptised into E.G.C. and initiated to I°, had acted as Officer for the initiation yesterday and was now to be Child for the Mass. As we went through the ritual preparation, the tremendous effort which we had all put ourselves through became worth it as the beauty of the ritual crystallised into our physical actions. You can read the script  every day for a lifetime, but until you experience a Gnostic Mass in the flesh you will never understand what it means to be there. You will never feel the tech.

So as I finally catch a break, say my hellos to brethren who have travelled cross-country as I have to be there, and eat my breakfast behind my car, I am enthused about the Miracle of the Mass. I am looking forward to acting as Positive Child for Adrian, whom I believe to be one of the foremost ritualists in UK Grand Lodge, and his Priestess, whose skills and proficiencies might on the surface include “a beautiful Eastern European with dark eyes and darker jewelry” but also incredible depths in both communicating the beauty of the Mass and her passion for the Order. It is in this frame of mind that I encounter Thomas, and hope to ease him into an obviously unfamiliar situation. As we talk, I describe the profound results I have experienced from taking the Sacrament of Communion within the Church.

He replies to me, “I was kind of hoping just to observe. Is it obligatory to participate?”

I gave him a very close look. It enters my mind that he hasn’t read the script, or been made aware that it is a participatory celebration of the Mass..

“Everyone,” I say, gently, “is expected to take the sacrament.”

His eyes say it all: Shit.

I start to explain that the congregation take part in the Mass from the very beginning, before the Priestess, Children, or Priest are even on-scene, and that the Sacrament is merely the Officers giving back in an energising format the work that the People have put in; but Brother Adrian appears at the doorway and motions for Officers to come inside. I smile warmly at Thomas, pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, and move away.

We perform final checks for the Mass, and then it is time for the TEDx OTO lecture. As always, Adrian is a fantastic speaker, and, as always, I stick my oar in during the more free discussion afterwards. I’m aware that we are pressed for time, but every initiate is so passionate about the subject that we continue well past the optimal start time. We break to change the hall back to the Mass Temple, and I am relieved that the one newcomer whom I am aware had to leave early has stayed on and enters so we can start.

As promised, two weeks later the author performed a celebration with his Priestess in Glastonbury

Now in my Confirmation robe and a black sash, I attend the Deacon as he goes through the steps, signs, actions, and contributions of the People for the ritual, and also the exact composition of the Cakes of Light for today’s celebration. It’s a good thing really, because otherwise people can end up repeating the same tosh you might find on the internet, on otherwise reliable websites.

Another shorter break and we begin. I subsume myself into the role, the Vau in the IHShVH of the Mass team, the Pillar of Mercy, the bearer of the Generative elements, and do my best to ensure everything runs as smoothly as possible within the remit of, well, a pillar. (Not, as I once thought a sister called me during Mass, a pillock. She said pillar, honest.) The ritual proceeds, and I pay strict attention to the actions of both the Priest and Priestess, as my wife and I are due to act in those very roles in a fortnight. The elements are consecrated, the mystical marriage performed, and the Miracle of the Mass is brought back below the veil for all congregants to participate and feel the Divine inside them brought to the fore as they ecstatically declare, “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods!”

As a Child, I see every communicant come up; two Bishops who had also attended the Lodge the day before, then initiates from across the South of England, local initiates, and those outside the Order for whom this day was prepared at great length. I realise towards the end of the communication that Thomas is not there, and I worry for an instant that I have said something to scare him off. This thought sloughs off my mind quickly however, as the next communicant approaches for their Sacrament, and I provide it without hesitation. They consume the Cake of Light, then move to my sister who provides a goblet of wine. They make a cross over the Priestess, consume the wine, replace the goblet, and Communicate. This process is impossible to describe to someone who has never experienced the Mass, but a rough idea is that of standing before God – not “a Goddess”, because Nuit is everything, all of the universe, the “continuous one of Heaven” – as your soul is filled with light until you feel it may explode, and you suddenly understand that there is no difference between yourself, the Priestess, or any other person. Love truly is the Law, at that point, Love under Will.

All of this is not to be experienced by poor Thomas, our doubting near-attendee. The Mass is concluded, the Priest retires to the tomb, spent from transmitting the Light of the Gnosis, and the People exit. As we clear down the Temple, and once Adrian is back from Priest-space, I apologise profusely for scaring an attendee off. Adrian, always kind, shrugs and absolves me of my guilt as he was only half sure the chap would turn up at all.

We strike the Temple, and retire to a pub. I am exhausted, but happy, and have found the courage to speak to more of our attendees, which goes down much better as nobody Hail Marys and runs away. I peruse the menu for something to eat, looking for perhaps a steak, or a hamburger, or even a chicken wrap. Typically, this is Brighton, and we have found our way to a raucus, rock-playing pub for Vegetarians. I guess I’ll have to make do with a cheese and onion sandwich.

Sef Salem III°

Body Master, Calix Sanctus Camp Glastonbury

[Our token Thelemite contributor, Sef wrote this in response to an account of this same event from Thomas McGrath, which can be found here.  There were a few inaccuracies in the original article; notably the type of sandwich being eaten during the conversation, and Sef’s age. Although, he will accept “affable yet sly” as a descriptor. NW]

“Man’s last and highest parting occurs when, for God’s sake, he takes leave of God.” Meister Eckhart

Magic can be a funny old business. I recently had an interesting car journey with a friend who had tried to read some of the posts on this blog, and was frankly struggling with the idea that I actually believed that Magic worked.

As a reasoned apologist, I started by stating that I thought that the psycho-drama of ritual practice was primarily focused on transforming ourselves. Whatever else Magic may or may not accomplish it aims to transform our own awareness so that we become more effective. By self-willed memetic infection, the change that we seek becomes more likely as we sensitize our perception to themes and opportunities. So far so good, but after this in all honesty my explanations started to get a bit blurry. As I sought to wax lyrical about probability enhancement, chaos theory and the power of placebo, I felt increasingly like some sort of new age snake oil salesman. While these hip sound-bites were pointing towards complex and subtle realities, I felt that I was doing a rather shit job at describing why I pursue the spiritual path that I do.

Would you like a little snake oil with that paradigm sir?

If for a moment I surrender my self-identification as a magical practitioner and ask “what do I actually find myself doing?” the answer is arguably far more interesting and multi-faceted. Stepping back from some sort of spiky, black-clad magical stereotype, the actual phenomena of my spiritual practice is often far from sorcerous go-getting. Looking back through old magical diaries I see lots of hatha yoga, lots of mindfulness practice, mantra work, crazed speculations and wondering. What I tend to see is an exploration of the bodymind and a testing/re-testing of various hypothesis about what might be going on. So think less black-clad Crowley wannabe, more disheveled Colombo wondering and wandering.

When I first got turned onto the esoteric via the work of Carl Jung, it was his interest in the unconscious and synchronicity that flicked a light switch for me. As my friend and Jung scholar Lloyd Keane might observe, old Carl Gustav was in pursuit of mystery and depth. In reflecting upon my on-going pursuit of Magic as a spiritual path, it is not an end in itself but rather a set of approaches that make the exploration of Mystery possible. While the passivity of faith sought to continually reassure, Magic often aims to provide a Gnostic tool-kit via which the brave (or foolhardy!) may plumb the depths of initiatory possibility.

The fantastic quote from Meister Eckhart highlights that the more we work with something, the more it seems that we need to be willing to let go of how we initially understood it. When we place ourselves on an initiatory journey that seeks to explore the unknown, the spiritual detective must be willing to re-evaluate cherished past orthodoxies that no longer hold as true. This is a high-stakes game in which previous colleagues turn away and in which terms like “heretic” are bandied about. This process of redefinition and conscious surrender is often the work of deep chaos.

Whether we frame such voyages as “crossing the Abyss” or as confronting Apophis, the core process seems similar. We come to a point where language and concepts falter as the Void calls out to our inner ache for liberty. When we push out into the deep waters, what we thought of as “Self” is swallowed up by Leviathan. We are gone, floating in a pregnant darkness where time and direction mean little. Traditions may vary in describing this as an annihilation of Self or in a greater unfolding beyond the egoic, but these are often limited spatial metaphors that we employ in trying to map the numinous.

Meister Eckhart – actually laughing inside

However these states are induced-be it through sitting meditation, trance dancing or their spontaneous arising, their impermanence means that eventually a more active expression of consciousness will re-emerge. When we emerge from these states of absorption, while the demands and pleasures of our waking life remain, we cannot return unchanged. Our understanding and the favoured techniques that got us started on the path may no longer feel relevant and may in fact run contra to new insights gained.
Magic like anything subtle is by its very nature difficult to articulate and needs to be subject to on-going revision. Magic for me is strongly related to Heidegger’s idea of mood, and it’s hard to articulate the power of its performativity as a distant observer (see HERE). Ariel Glucklich is helpful in trying to capture the idea of “magical consciousness” in his study of magical practitioners in Banaras. For him magic is both relational (between practitioner and client) and it takes place in a liminal state of consciousness in which the micro-analysis of linear causation is suspended. To try to understand Magic outside such an enlivened discourse seems inevitably limited.

Magic by its very nature needs to be immersive and to understand it you need to risk doing it, and in doing it you need to be willing to abandon what you thought it was.

(To check out Part Une of this essay click HERE.)

SD