Magick and Religion
[Editor’s Note: This blog post was nearly completed, although not entirely satisfactory, and scheduled to be posted on the morning of March 15, 2019. Upon arising that morning to review the words I had drafted, I saw the news about a gunman who killed 49 people in a Mosque in New Zealand. This tragic and misguided event shed some light upon what I had to say, and has resulted in a substantial rewrite of the piece in order to include an import aspect of the message that I had missed in my original post.]
It may come as no surprise, but producing musicals based on planetary rituals written by an infamous occultists can lead to some questions about what I, personally, believe. So, allow me to state for the record that I believe in the transformative power of mysticism and magick, and that religion is a cultural framework for those practices.
And if that satisfies your curiosity, or provides you the opportunity to write me off as a harmless eccentric, that is perfectly acceptable to me. I am mostly harmless, and rather eccentric.
But, for those of you who might want to understand why someone who seems relatively rational might engage in this type of practice and study, well, I am happy to explain.
Before I go any further, I present The Big Disclaimer. I speak for myself. My thoughts and ideas are informed by years of study and practical experience, shaped by the wisdom I have gleaned from those who were kind enough to share their understanding with me, and tried in the crucible of my own daily practice. While I have worked closely with people who have followed many paths, and while I follow many myself, I do not seek to claim authority over any tradition, but I will be making some rather sweeping and inclusive statements about all traditions. I understand that some of what I say might seem critical, and I hope that any criticism I offer is accepted gracefully.
Myth and History
Mythology and history are not the same thing. That seems like a pretty benign statement, but I will probably lose close to half of my audience right there.
We are a species that tells stories. Be it the trials we experience at the airport, or that time we met a famous musician at a dive bar, we have our narratives, and we tell them to each other and to ourselves. The dates and times may escape us, and the tales may go largely unremembered after the first or second telling, but we love to share. And those stories that resonate are retold, and embellished in the telling.
Unless we are scrupulously accounting for dates, times and locations in the record of our narratives, unless we are recording events carefully to avoid the encroachment of poetic embellishment, our tales will stray from the facts of a situation into the realm of personal fantasy in a matter of days, if not hours. And why not? In the majority of cases, it makes for a better story in our mind, especially because the new story supports our own narrative.
Most of what we are taught about history is actually mythology. Just lost another ten percent of my readers. But being frank: Columbus was basically a pirate who was bad at math. Washington never chopped down a cherry tree, much less told the truth about it. You could not fit every species of spider on an boat as small as the Ark is described in the Bible, much less two of every animal.
Yes, I said it. The Bible is mythology. Literally folk tales, told thousands of times and written down hundreds of years after they were first uttered around a camp fire. And the selection process regarding which of those tales was to be included in the book is a story unto itself, fraught with politics and the quest for personal power.
But don’t just take my word for it. Google “Council of Nicaea”. We’ll wait…
I often remark that there is a distinction between truth and fact that largely falls along the same lines as the divide between mythology and history. Fact is an event in space and time, something we can point to. Limited to the specific circumstances that govern that occurrence. Truth is our relationship to those facts, and is colored by our perception, illuminated in our recollection, and seasoned with our emotions.
In fact, there may have never existed a race between a tortoise and a hare, but the story contains a truth, or at least a childish truism. “Slow and steady wins the race.” That is the power of a myth, that it can capture an idea, and inspire further exploration. You may argue that a fable or parable differs from a myth, in that people never believed in the reality of a fable or parable, but interpreted myths as “facts” at one time.
Maybe some people did believe these stories were history. But, unless there were giant guys enacting these stories in front of the tiny folks who were originally telling them, those early artist were quite aware that they were crafting a narrative. I suspect many of the listeners were, too.
Please note that I have never said “just mythology”. I would never dream of employing the diminutive when discussing myth. Myth is a retelling of a tale that includes layers of meaning beyond the surface narrative. It inspires in a way that is entirely outside of the realm of reality, but in doing so it can improve reality.
To illustrate this point, I quote the inestimable Terry Pratchett from The Hogfather.
Symbols and Correspondences
At this point you are likely protesting about what all this has to do with magick, mysticism, and the religious experience. To address this, we are going to dive a bit into the realm of fact, and how our brains employ these various sensations into our personal narratives, and then explore how we can use this to our advantage.
The first step in understanding magick is understanding the idea of symbols.
A symbols is, by one definition: a thing or character that represents or stands for something else, especially a material object representing something abstract. Think of the tortoise and the hare.
Symbols are the key to all language. They are the figures in our dreams. They are the sum of all our aspirations, and cornerstone of all human superstition. They are the mystery of the religious experience and the horrible scream of every nightmare.
And as they are representational of other things, they lend themselves to the concept of correspondence. Each discreet symbol may correspond to many things, and those correspondences can result in a symbols set having multiple complimentary and interrelated interpretations.
As symbols are employed by the human subconscious in dream architecture, it has been surmised that the symbols our minds employ in dream scenarios are expressed in such a manner that all possible interpretation are in some way relevant. A bucket of water may have several meanings to an individual, and each of those meanings is being actively explored by the dreamer simultaneously when that image appears in a dream. If the mind were avoiding some aspect of the symbol, or if it were superfluous, it would naturally selected a different symbol that doesn’t invoke that particular aspect. A cigar is never just a cigar.
This may all seem like a bit of an aside, until we start to look at the parts of the brain that analyze symbols.
The Brain – Where Symbols Live
The frontal lobe of the brain is where rational interpretation takes place. It receives input via a gatekeeper in the brain called the amygdala, which collects input from the various sensory receptors and interpolates them. The frontal lobe is where senses and memories then meet to interpret our reality. Everything you have every seen, thought, felt or done is actually taking place in your frontal lobe.
This specialized part of the brain is truly what allows us to create anything at all! It is the seat of human genius. And teaching this part of the brain how to rationally interpret symbols is the bulk of our cultural learning, from our earliest moments. The sound and pitch of a parents voice. The glowing warmth of fire. The smell of home. These impressions are remembered and begin to shape our internal symbolic landscape.
We then analyze these memories and experiences, and look for ways to employ them; to use them to our advantage; to experiment with our environment, and learn from the results. And all this while we are still toddlers, developing our earliest motor skills and employing rudimentary tools. Eventually we start to associate sounds with words, and words with there meanings, and we are on our way to sharing our ideas as we develop them.
Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the case, this amazing part of the mind, the frontal lobe, can be completely paralyzed by stress, anxiety and fear. These emotions trigger a response in the sympathetic nervous system, which governs fight or flight response. The amygdala will stop sending impulses to the frontal lobe, and direct them to the autonomic nervous system.
This is an excellent response when faced with a dangerous predator, or when leaping out of the way of a moving vehicle. This is not the time for analyses, but for action!
Additionally, our capacity for abstract thought allows us to invent and imagine terrors that seem altogether real to the amygdala. Since the amygdala does not interpret input as true or false (that would be the frontal lobe) but rather in terms of danger, it can shut off the part of our brain capable of realizing the insubstantial nature of the threat. And here is where our miraculous minds can poison us. When faced with an overwhelming decision, an eminent crisis, or even existential dread, the fight or flight response kicks in and shuts down the frontal lobe, often right when we need it the most.
So, how can we find our way back to the rational parts of our minds? One historically tried and true method is mythology!
Having a symbol set you can rely on in a crisis can help you analyze that crisis in light of the symbol set. And that analysis will activate your frontal lobe, engaging the problem solving part of your brain!
As an example – when faced with a dilemma as a child, one might inculcate a hero or heroine, like Luke Skywalker or Princess Leia, in order to measure their choices against the contrast presented by their fears and their vision of what heroism truly is. These are abstract concepts that are embodied in the form of myths, that they impact real life decisions.
Once you move out of the realm of fear into the inspired space embodied by the myth, the problem solving part of the brain becomes active again, and starts to imagine not only how a mythic figure might react, but specific strategies they might employ. The ideal inspires the reaction, and reshapes the narrative.
This entire scenario is the basis for religious mythology and it’s practical application for good or ill. In their best sense, these stories can inspire strength of character, generosity of spirit and integrity of the self. In there worst sense, fear of the other, crippling superstition and a reliance on external authority.
The evil that men do
There is something else to say here, regarding the fear that paralyses the mind, and circumvents the interpretive process. Sometimes, when employed in an unconscionable manner, the myth becomes the source of the dread.
There is no need to imagine how it might be if a human were to be convinced (either by themselves or by others) that if they did not engage in some servile, violent, destructive, or cruel behavior that they would be subjected to some fearful result. The fear of eternal torment by a loving God has convinced otherwise rational people to do unspeakable things, committing horrific crimes against themselves and against other.
I am a fan of religion. Religion is a shared cultural mythology, a poetic narrative of our relationship with our reality that can be usefully employed to address complex problems. It has value insofar as it imparts positive group behavioral norms, a sense of internal discipline, and a program that can be employed in managing crisis individually and collectively.
Yet, in the hands of the unscrupulous, it is a poison.
For example, I believe that the employment of chastity as a personal discipline (or even preference) is a wholesome and powerful application of sexual magick. It is a choice to abstain from certain activities in order to focus that energy elsewhere, or to set them apart as Holy.
That said, the moment that this chastity is not longer a choice that empowers the individual, but a mandate handed down by some “religious authority” enforced by either fear of eternal torment, social isolation, or just being beaten to death with big fucking rocks, it is not longer a spiritual discipline designed to make something Holy; it is an oppressive superstitious abomination, designed to enslave people, employing the same methods that can set them free.
I have heard it said that the Spirit is like a river, and that all religions are like vessels pulling water from that same river. The vessels are shaped by the culture where they are developed. Some are ornate, some are plain, some tall, some short, but all are useful, because they hold and shape the living water. It is only when someone places a lid on the container and claims to have the whole river therein that they become stagnate.
I like to shorten this to: “There are as many names for God as there are for water, it all gets you wet.” Because it sounds a little naughty.
Returning to the subject, that idea of stagnation and claimed authority is the real danger. To the extent that any leader claims sole authority, to that exact extent should they be suspect. We are all traveling our various paths, we are all learning our lessons, and finding our way. If you want to find a guide, so be it. You are welcome to employ any course of study, and find the practice that suits you best. Anyone who claims that they are the sole arbiter of the truth, the sole path to enlightenment, the sole infallible voice of God on earth, or the one true conduit for the Secret Masters is likely either delusional, or deceiving you.
Such an unscrupulous teacher will try to isolate you from other information. They will try to make you afraid of other thoughts. They will point to wickedness, evil, and impurity everywhere. Rather than seeing the divine expressed throughout humanity (an excellent method for finding it in yourself) or graciously acknowledging that the principals at work behind all these practices are essentially the same, they will encourage fear and hatred of others, often by inculcating that this fear and hatred is a glorious manifestation of your love for your friends, family and community.
It is an old and tested tool for leading people into servitude through fear. It circumvents the ability to rationally interpret the meaning of an otherwise beautiful experience, and makes it the tool of enslavement. Can you imagine any more absurd reason to hate someone than their preference between Star Wars and Star Trek? Because that is what religious discrimination is, a debate between science fiction genres. It is less substantive than arguing over which is the better sports team, as that can at least be proven by some objective measure from season to season. Yet, when faced with imagined torment, or real ostracization, it is difficult to see the irrationality of that false dichotomy.
They say the truth shall set you free. Perhaps. Understanding the method in which these symbols are employed affords us the opportunity to use these techniques to our best advantage, rather than allowing others to exploit them to our detriment. And it is up to us how we will employ this ability.
We will begin exploring some techniques for using these abilities to our advantage in the next post. Until then, courage!