The affection in which Mark holds the figure of Jesus is obvious in every word of this book, which is an attempt to reconcile what might be to some irreconcilable: the world of the Christian and the world of the Pagan, and while doing so to explore the parameters within which the two spiritualities exist.
Mark addresses his book to two different groups of people: Pagans who nevertheless still hold some recessive affection for the figure of Jesus Christ, and Christians who find themselves uncomfortable with aspects of the church that took his name but have no wish to abandon it completely.
I come from the second group. I was a cradle Christian, carefully cocooning myself within a gentle and sheltered C of E (Church of England) world, the world of country churches, vicars who were poets and naturalists as much as priests, wheezing organs and cherished church mice, explaining away to myself the horrors of Christians tearing each other to shreds, by blaming narrow specifics such as the Inquisition, or Philip of Spain and Bloody Mary. As my studies progressed, however, I lost my faith if not in God then in the Church. Why was I even thinking about being part of something whose history was soaked in blood, marred by misogyny, and strangled by dogma, and which appeared to have lost sight of the man after whom it is named? I wanted the gentle Jesus of my childhood, but I also wanted mysticism and mystery. I wanted a god who fitted in my country, my mythos: Like so many others, as I was to discover later, I found it hard to relate to the remote and harsh Middle Eastern God of the Old Testament. I wanted a god who understood the world I knew and loved; a god not of sand and desert and olive groves, but a god of misty green isles and apple orchards and verdant forests.
I had to find for myself the Western Mystery Tradition, all but eradicated fifteen hundred years ago by the evangelizing Church, and work my way forward through the maze. I had to find a way of incorporating the female soul of the church which had been lost at the Reformation, an intellectualizing and rationalizing movement which was as misogynistic as that of the early church fathers. I, as a Protestant, had to discover the Virgin Mary, angels, beauty, and love rather than a stream of threats and the terror of a hell which could not feasibly be avoided. Above all I needed to know that nature was a part of God’s world which we should protect and not ruthlessly exploit. A great many of my problems were semantic, I later discovered. They are all there; angels and promises and love—it was a matter of interpretation, and when my faith at last came back, unexpectedly and to a certain extent unsought, it was mediated through the gentle overview of Druidry. I had found my way alone through a tangle of doubt and confusion and ended up with a blend of two spiritualities: the Christianity of my childhood I had missed so much and the newly discovered philosophy and spirituality of Druidry. I was confused and hesitant, and there was no one I felt I could turn to for advice and to use as a sounding board. At the time, neither side seemed to want to talk about the other and I could see no way of joining them up. I wish I’d had Mark’s book to guide and encourage me.
My quest has ended with the writing of a novel, Time’s Legacy, putting Jesus fairly and squarely into “England’s mountains green,” as the poet, mystic, and Druid William Blake described it in his famous hymn, “Jerusalem.” I didn’t write the book with this in mind, but as it progressed I realised that I was working out my own theology in some way, the compromise and exploration of the theme which Mark addresses so comprehensively in this book. In my novel, the Christian characters—in this case, ordained members of the C of E, one of them a woman—are confronted by a Jesus who is a historical person … a real man with all the emotions and hang-ups of a real man. He is still in the process of preparing for his destiny and at this point, is doing so in the company of Druids. His divinity, or, if you prefer, his destiny as a Master and teacher, are hinted at but as yet he has not launched upon his final career, the three short years which will lead to the cross. Each character from their own perspective has to come to terms with the sudden presence in their lives in a way they had never considered possible—of a living, breathing Jesus.
In the first section of his book, Mark provides an erudite and loving picture of the Jesus I did not want to lose, discussing both the historical figure and that of the mystical Cosmic Christ. He considers whether they are one and the same or totally different, addressing many of the problems I and so many people like me have faced.
Following is a section of experiences of Jesus and of the Cosmic Christ by people who have walked the same road, personal and theoretical stories from well-known members of the Pagan community. Their expositions are thoughtful and assured; their learning and experience broad, scholarly, and deeply moving.
In part three, Mark has included the result of interviews with respected elders from various sections of the Pagan world on specific questions related to the book’s theme.
I enjoyed Mark’s book tremendously. I hope you do too. As you read it, it will speak to your soul.
—Barbara Erskine