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The Entwined Roots

Looking at the history of Western magick, the spiritual family tree of witchcraft entwines many times and in many places with the family tree of the magi. The modern scholar’s view is that ceremonial magick, particularly the traditions of the Golden Dawn, greatly influenced the reformation and reconstruction of Wicca in the twentieth century. There is less certainty as to how much witchcraft has influenced ceremonial magick. Scholars debate the historical age and practice of witchcraft, and whether the modern version has any links to ancient witchcraft. What was once considered fact by witchcraft practitioners has been put into doubt by modern scholars. Skeptics of Wicca’s link to any past witchcraft tradition will say that Gerald Gardner made up the connection, but will still admit that, as a spiritual system, Wicca works quite well. Traditionalists will reference material, both scholarly and from family traditions and special lineages, to make their own case that what we do now in our magick is similar in form to what has been done in ages past, even if the context isn’t entirely the same.

Such traditionalists believe the arts of the magician came out of the work of the tribal cunning folk and shamans, the witches. The information was said to survive in the forms of ceremonial magick because the magicians wrote things down, while many of the folk traditions were oral and were lost during the Burning Times. Even the famed and controversial alchemist Paracelsus, who popularized the Doctrine of Signatures, left academia to study with the gypsies and the wise ones of the woods to truly know the medicine of plants. The modern founders of both the ceremonial traditions and Wicca were involved in the practices of folk magick and of more formal ceremonial magick. Some current practitioners work with aspects of both traditions, and often don’t know it or aren’t aware of the rich history they share. I believe that in both the modern age and the past, the practices of witches and magicians have influenced each other. Like two different plants growing out of the same fertile soil, their roots are too similar not to share common ground and common origins. And like plants, they continue to cross-pollinate each other, adding to the richness and diversity of our spiritual garden.

The Ancient World of Magick

As our world moved away from the hunter-gatherer societies of the Stone Age and eventually toward the agrarian communities and the ancient cities marked by amazingly sophisticated developments in architecture, writing, temple traditions, politics, and philosophy, the mysteries of magick were not evenly divided between the witch and the mage. While some of the magickal workers remained in the rural areas, practicing what we would consider folk ways, and others were involved in more ecstatic and nonhierarchical cults of mystery, many practitioners became involved in the temple traditions of the ancient world. But the domain of the temples, and their more organized structures, was not exclusively the male mysteries. We find strong temple traditions devoted to both the goddesses and gods of the ancient societies.

The temple traditions held in highest regard by modern witches seeking to reclaim the mysteries of the ancient world are those of the Egyptian gods Isis and Osiris. Many witches use images of Isis and Osiris as the Goddess and God upon their altar. The story of this couple is used in many rites and classes to explore the themes of life, death, magick, and rebirth. Though some speculate that the origin of Isis is in an all-pervading mother goddess archetype from Predynastic Egypt and that she was absorbed into the later solar-dominant Egyptian pantheon, her worship spread in later eras to again become an all-encompassing mother goddess figure, beloved all over the ancient world.

From the tale of Isis and Osiris, witches take the themes of the eternal goddess’s power to resurrect from death to life, but also the concept of the mysteries of death that forever change. The link between sex and death also is inferred, as sexual power always has been associated with the primal forces of life and death, as detailed in the mysteries of the zodiac sign Scorpio. When I look at the priestess and priest of Isis and Osiris, I see my ancestors, carrying the traditions of witchcraft, the cycles of the seasons in the exoteric outer world, and the mysteries of death, rebirth, magick, and the shadow in the esoteric inner world.

Believed to be older than the temple traditions of Egypt are those of Mesopotamia, including Sumer, Akkadia, and their spiritual descendants Babylon and Assyria. These cultures held rich mystery traditions of goddesses and gods. Many believe the arts of magick as we know them began in these lands. They are known for their abilities in tracking the heavens and interpreting their movements, in summoning spirits, in medicine and healing, and in petitioning the gods for blessings. Parts of the city-state territory known as Sumeria were later absorbed by the empires of Babylon, Assyria, and Persia. We find the origin of the term magi and the strong priest-magi archetype in links to the Persian traditions and religion. The Sumerian root influenced most mythologies of the Middle East.

Some of our most familiar divine images and archetypes in Western mythology find their origins in these Mesopotamian traditions, including the sky god Marduk, the scribe Nabu, the resurrection god Dumuzi, the Earth Mother goddess Ninhursag, the primal mother of watery chaos Tiamat, and the Sun god Shamash. The most important of these deities to modern witches is the goddess Inanna. Her mystery is much like that of Osiris, but this tale focuses exclusively on the goddess instead of a male figure descending to the depths. Modern mystics believe the mysteries of Inanna, a fertility and sexuality goddess, were reenacted in rituals of initiation. Inanna’s priestesses maintained a temple tradition of sacred prostitution, initiating others into the ways of lovemaking and its magick.

Mesopotamian lore influenced the rise of the Persian religion, administered by the magi of the land we now call Iran. The Persian traditions evolved into a form of dualism, a philosophy of light and dark, spiritual and material, in conflict, which set the stage for the rise of Zoroastrianism. The prophet Zarathustra, known as Zoroaster to the Greeks, sought to reform the magician religion and traditions from a period of corruption. His religion and theology, emphasizing the light, became known as Zoroastrianism and had a profound influence on the world, particularly on Jewish, Christian, and Islamic worldviews. In this theology, the all-powerful and wise creator Ahura Mazda, or Ohrmazd, is in conflict with a being of destruction and impurity known as Angra Mainyu, or Ahriman. The righteous, or followers of Asha, the righteous light, ascend to heaven, while the evil and corrupt descend to hell to be purified. On the final day, all of the world and all souls will be purified and ascend to heaven.

Zoroaster’s influence can be seen in certain forms of Gnostic Christianity. While in Zoroastrianism the world is not inherently evil, but a creation of Ohrmazd, it is implied that it needs to be purified from the influence of Ahriman. Gnostic tradition often looked at the world as inherently evil and taught that only through true and personal knowledge of the divine can one escape the material world and join the true god. The God of the Old Testament is considered to be the Demiurge, or the King of the World—not the true god, but rather the god of ego and form, keeping us in servitude and suffering. The material world, flesh, and pleasure are seen as traps to keep us away from the divine. In many ways, the Demiurge can be compared to the later Christian concept of the Devil. The dualism became more pronounced as the world became a battleground for the good and evil figures, with humanity caught in the middle. The gnosis, or knowledge of the Gnostics, is the direct ecstatic experience of the divine, and Gnostic philosophies and cosmologies are said to point the way to a true experience and eventual escape from the material world of suffering. It’s important to note that not all forms of Gnostic Christianity held this worldview, as there was not one overarching Gnostic Church but rather a variety of independent sects until the rise of the Roman Catholic Church eradicated the independent Christians as it did the pagan traditions. Some forms of Gnostic worship were very feminine-reverent and had a lot in common with modern forms of magick and paganism.

Though most would not associate the traditions of the ancient Hebrew people with witchcraft and magick, there is a rich magickal tradition beneath the surface. With the associations the Hebrew people had with both captivities in Egypt and Babylon, some speculate that the Jewish mystics either influenced their captors or were influenced by these pagan cultures. There is probably a little truth to both. We know that in Old Testament accounts witchcraft might have been outlawed, but was being practiced in these territories. The account of the Witch of Endor links witchcraft practices to what today we would consider necromancy or spiritualism, the rituals to speak with the dead. Saul seeks a woman “with familiar spirit” to summon the spirit of Samuel for guidance. Many looking to folk traditions will point out that traditional witchcraft has always had more to do with the ancestors than with what most modern witches practice today.

Beyond the Witch of Endor, another link to the Hebraic tradition itself is the figure of King Solomon. Though one can debate whether this magician-king figure was an actual or mythical figure, he is described as a magician, with the ability to summon, bind, and control all manner of spirits, both good and evil, for the construction of the temple. He is attributed with writing a number of medieval grimoires on magick, though if there was a historical Solomon, his connection to these books is mythical and spiritual at best, and not literal. Yet as a figure he provides a tantalizing link between the image of priest and magician, and as a spirit worker he has seer or shamanic overtones. Most interesting to witches and magicians is his relationship with the Queen of Sheba. Some speculate that Solomon was actually a devotee of Astarte, the Phoenician goddess linked with Inanna and also known as Ashera. His famous Song of Songs is actually an invocation to her. It is further speculated that Solomon and the Queen were involved in forms of Phoenician fertility magick or tantra. Though these are all wonderful ideas in the mythical history linking the mage and the priestess-witch archetypes, there is no hard evidence that King Solomon actually existed, let alone was a practitioner of Phoenician sex magick. Yet his mythos continues to inspire magicians today.

The association of magicians with biblical lore also exists in the New Testament, as the infant Jesus is visited by three wise men, magi from the East, each bringing a gift of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The figure of Jesus himself, often renounced by witches due to the persecution of the Christian Church against pagan ways, is embraced as a guiding principle in ritual magick. Some witches have a problem not with Jesus the teacher and healer, but with his subsequent followers. They echo a famous quote attributed to Gandhi: “I love your Christ. It’s just that so many of you Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Some even see Jesus as a witch figure, performing magick later viewed as miracles, traveling with a company of twelve and thus making thirteen in total like a coven, and venerating the feminine in his mother, Mary, and Mary Magdalene. Magicians see Jesus not as a witch, but as a magician, espousing many of the same principles that are found in magickal teachings across the world. Wild speculations as to how Jesus spent the time before his ministry place him in Egypt, India, or with the Druids in Europe, learning the ways of magick and the arts of life after death to prepare him for his work in the Middle East.

Witches and magicians find a familiar territory in the myths and traditions of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Many attribute the first true images of the witch to ancient Greece, through the traditions of the Thessalian witches and the images of Hecate and her priestesses. It is through the development of the Greek civilization that we have evidence of a split between the mysteries of the more rural, illicit religions and ecstatic cults meeting in the wilds and the more structured and formal temple traditions. Through their traditions, and due to interpretations and terms coined by the philosopher Nietzsche, we have the concept of Apollonian and Dionysian principles in culture, theater, and religion.

The Apollonian principle, named for the Sun god Apollo, refers to the processes that bring about greater individualization, form, and structure, including rational thought and logic. The Dionysian principle, named for the twice-born god of the vine Dionysus, embodies the process of union, breaking down individualization where the sense of self is absorbed by the greater whole, often through drunkenness or madness. Emotion, intuition, and chaos are the hallmarks of this path. At first glance, the Apollonian approach seems geared more for the ritual magician, while the Dionysian has more of a classic witch’s sabbat feel to it. Greek society embraced both principles in varying degrees, just as today, the modern witchcraft mystery traditions embrace both principles. There is both learning and intuition in our traditions. Like Osiris and Inanna, Apollo and Dionysus have resurrection myths associated with them, from the cyclical return of the Sun to the dismemberment, death, and resurrection in the Underworld.

The Greek traditions lean to one side or the other. The mysteries associated with Orpheus, the Greek poet and musician born to the muse Calliope and the god Apollo, have a more Dionysian feel to them, particularly when compared to the later mystery schools.

These mysteries existed along with those of Eleusis, based upon the mythos of Demeter and Persephone. This is another story of descent and return. Persephone was abducted to the Underworld by the Underworld god Hades, then forced to eat the food of the dead (pomegranate seeds) and become Queen of the Dead. The rites of the Eleusinian mysteries were so secret that we don’t really know what occurred, but speculations include ritual reenactment of the mythos, or even a hallucinogenic sacrament made from the ergot fungus that grows on grain.

The temple at Delphi is another bridge between the Apollonian and Dionysian currents. It was originally a temple to the mother goddess Gaia or the goddess Delphyne, and was later associated with the followers of Apollo. One would travel to the temple to consult Pythia, the oracle of Delphi. The historian Plutarch was a high priest at Delphi and recorded the process. The priestess would enter a small chamber and absorb fumes that inspired prophecy. Modern research suggests that a fault line beneath the temple actually released hydrocarbon gases capable of inducing trance and vision. For mystics, the famous quote “Know thyself” is from the archway of the temple, urging all to see the mysteries within. The temple at Delphi remained a major religious center until it was closed by the Christian emperor Theodosius.

The mystery teachings of a more Apollonian bent are found in the philosopher sages of Greece. The term Hermetic, applied to a wide body of Western mystery traditions, can be traced to Hermes, the god of travel, commerce, and messages. Hermes is free to travel the realms of Olympus, Earth, and the Underworld, with the sign of the caduceus as his mark of office. Hermes is also linked to the figure of Hermes Trismegistus, or “thrice greatest Hermes,” and to the Egyptian scribe god Thoth, as the patron of alchemy and magick. Writings attributed to Hermes still influence modern magicians today. As a Mercurial archetype, he is associated with his Roman counterpart, Mercury, god of the mind, words, and communication. Myth links Hermes and Apollo together as brothers, and they traded gifts, the lyre from Hermes to Apollo and the caduceus from Apollo to Hermes.

Pythagoras established a secret mystery cult that was believed to be similar to the Orphic mysteries. Some say that either he trained with the Druids, or they, in turn, were trained or influenced by him during his travels of the world. Pythagoras studied in Egypt, Babylonia, and India and spent time with the Druids. He was said to have studied with the Thessalian witches, from whom he learned the arts of divination. Geometry, mathematics, music, and poetry played important roles in the teachings of Pythagoras. He was the first to create the theory of the “music of the spheres.” Like magicians and witches of every era, he was reputed to have magickal powers, to converse with the animals, call eagles from the sky, and bilocate. Greek scholars continued the traditions of exploring the universe through philosophy, math, astrology, and art. They speculated about the nature of the soul and the otherworlds and also gave us the popular philosophies and concepts we still study at university today. The teachings of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle laid a foundation for further metaphysical thought and subsequent traditions. Plato in particular influenced a third-century CE revival known as Neoplatonism, which would go on to influence Qabalah and Hermeticism for all future generations. Though we most often think of these philosophers as academics, their images and roles are not far from those of the village wise man or wizard, guiding the next generation’s development and understanding of nature, the self, and the universe.

Though the mysteries and philosophies continued under Roman rule, a new mystery tradition gained notoriety—that of Mithras. Coming from Persia, Roman Mithraism probably differed greatly from its Eastern counterparts. It became a secret tradition exclusively for men and was very popular with the Roman military. Mithras was a deity who eventually was coopted into Zoroastrianism, turning into a divine intermediary between Ahura Mazda and the humans of the world. Mithras is identified with the Sun and the powers of light. He also is identified as a divine king and patron of rulers. Some myths have him incarnate in a physical body at one time, and today, many of us find parallels in his myth and symbolism with the figure of Jesus Christ. As with the Eleusinian mysteries, there is very little we know for certain about the Roman cult of Mithras, though today we believe its rites occurred in underground temples or caves, and involved the sacrifice of a bull and the bathing in its blood to be reborn again. Though we are not sure if the priests of this tradition considered themselves magicians or healers in the sense of operative magick, they share striking parallels to the initiatory magick of life, death, and rebirth found in all ancient civilizations. The stories of Mithras rose from Persia, the land fabled for its magi. Mithraism eventually lost its hold on Roman society due to the rise of Christianity, which borrowed aspects of Mithraism and opened its doors to anyone—men, women, and children—regardless of rank or status.

The Roman poet Virgil not only was a contributor to the world of literature, but also was known as an accomplished magician. One legend says that he was taught magick by demons that he accidentally released from a bottle he discovered while digging in a vineyard. Another legend, probably closer to the truth, says that he graduated from a magick school in Toledo, having been tutored in the arts by Moorish instructors. He may have created a similar school in Naples, where he was an instructor. Living in the first century BCE, Virgil was known for his ability to create remarkable healing baths, as well as use copper, gold, and iron for magickal purposes. His profession put him at odds with the less mystically inclined medical establishment of the day. Virgil was said to have died while performing a rejuvenation ceremony with his servant. The ritual required his servant to kill him and dismember the body, placing the pieces in a barrel and under a magick oil lamp for nine days. After that time, Virgil was supposed to be revived. His servant reluctantly did as asked by his master, but the emperor, looking for the poet, interrupted the ceremony, refusing to believe the ritual tale and instead believing the servant murdered Virgil. The emperor had the servant killed and then later saw a ghost of a small child running around the barrel and cursing him. The remains were buried in Naples.

We must remember that, as modern pagans, we look back fondly on the pagan scholars of antiquity as magician-philosophers who have contributed to our own magickal revolutions, but in their own times, they generally did not look kindly upon the magus image. Though the magi were well respected for a time as a priestly class in ancient Persia, the import of the magician image to ancient Greece and Rome did not come with the same stature. Though early figures such as Orpheus and Pythagoras included magickal and shamanic elements in their teachings, many later philosophers did not. Some of these ancient philosophers contributed to the world’s poor view of both the magician and the witch, seeing little difference between the two and referring to them both with disdain. Such a development could occur only in a society that viewed magick as a skill separate from religion, medicine, and other crafts, and that viewed logic as superior to intuition. As the philosopher’s world grew, the role of the priestess or priest of a little understood or respected religion was devalued, and the view of the magician as charlatan and deceiver, needing to be “debunked,” flourished. Plato actually contributed greatly to a hostile view of magick in his work the Laws. Though many witches believe that Christians are solely responsible for the persecution of magickal practitioners, the laws against magick actually began in the Roman Empire and were adopted by the later Christian Empire to use against both Christian heretics and pagan practitioners.

Though these theories on life, the divine, and the soul help inform us as modern pagans, it is important to remember that many of these ancient philosophical teachings were based mostly on intellectual musings rather than on direct experience or contact with the Otherworld, or the transmission of teachings from the ancient mystery schools. Not until the Neoplatonists did we have the strong image of the theurgist, but that image is not often applied to those of the rural traditions of the mage and witch. These academics contributed a piece of wisdom to our modern pagan renaissance, but their teachings do not encompass all of our magickal experiences. Full esoteric teachings, coupling philosophy with direct experience, flourished in the traditions of alchemy and Hermetic magick.

The European Tribal Link

Another root of our ancient world magick comes from the Indo-European tribes. The traditions of witchcraft draw upon the Celtic and Teutonic traditions, which provide a very interesting connection to our image of the mage and wizard. These powerful tribes migrated out of the Indus Valley and had contact with ancient Greece and Rome, yet their civilizations were based on ideals and structures very different from the city-states and ancient empires. But still, there was magick in these societies, and these magicians bridge the gap between our image of the primal shamanic figure and the stately clergy of the temples.

Witches hark back to the Druids as spiritual ancestors, the wise ones of the Celtic society. The Druidic link is a convenient one for modern practitioners, because those in the tradition wrote down very little themselves, so our modern knowledge of Druidic wisdom is our best guess based on current evidence. A popular modern notion is that there were three levels of training and function in the Druid caste. The first was bard, a keeper of lore, knowledge, poetry, song, and history. The second was an ovate or judge, an arbiter of dispute. The third rank was the priest, the facilitator of seasonal rituals and the instruction of new Druids. Despite the popular image that modern people have of ancient Celtica as a unified nation of Celts, in reality the tribes were separate and often feuding. The only common link among them was respect for the Druid, who interpreted the words of the gods and whose judgment was final, for to be banished from Celtic religion was to be banished from Celtic society and have no place among the people.

With such a wide range of function, who were the Druids, really? Due to a revival of Druidism by English gentlemen in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, we have the image of the scholarly, wizardly old male Druid etched into our collective consciousness, fitting the archetypal wizard image. Though many portray Druidism as a male art, others cite that there were “Druidesses” as well as Druids. Though their intentions were good, these revivalists had no real link to or notion of actual Druidism beyond a love of nature. When contemplating the time period and culture of the Druids, it was far more likely that they wore animal skins rather than fine robes. Druids are more akin to our image of the shaman than that of the courtly magician, yet they fulfilled the function of the priest in their society. In fact, their caste is referred to as the priest caste of Celtic culture. They had no formal temples, but practiced in groves. Their training took at least nineteen years to complete and must have been as complex, if not more so, than the temple traditions of the ancient world, for the Druids were said to memorize everything they learned. In myth and story, they are considered to be great magicians, capable of summoning storms, healing the sick, cursing, and predicting the future.

The most famous image of the Druid is that of Merlin, known as a magician. As a practitioner of the magick of England, most likely he too was a Druid, if he was a living person at all. His archetype is that of the magician wearing a blue robe with yellow stars and a conical hat, but he was most likely an animal-skin wearer, with a feathered cloak, and more akin to the wild man of the forest than the court scholar. He has the role of prophet, and his advice is received like the trickster, forcing people to confront themselves and others. In some legends, he ultimately is tricked, and trapped in a tree or cave by his lover and student. Merlin is seen as a patron of both the Celtic shamanic traditions and the Hermetic magicians. Some believe that the name Merlin, or Myrrdin, is not a name at all, but rather is a title, given to the High Priest of Albion, of England, and encompasses a lineage of high priests stretching back to Atlantis. Merlin and the Druidic tradition give us the link to the Celtic Otherworld so strongly associated with witchcraft and the Goddess, as well as a link between the functions of priest, magician, and shaman.

The Teutonic tribes did not have the unifying force of the Druids in their society. However, most of these tribes did have magickal practitioners. Their practices are seen as very shamanic, without the same rigid caste system and division of ranks in their mystical orders. Practitioners often were devoted to the magick of a particular goddess or god, and would act as diviner or seer, as well as folk magician. One of the most powerful Norse influences on magick, both ancient and modern, is the figure of the all-father god Odin. Also known as Wotan, he is an archetypal Mercury magician figure. Called the star-cloaked wanderer, Odin travels the nine worlds of Norse mythology. He gives the gifts of inspiration and berserker fury, and has a strong association with language, a staple gift of the Mercurial god. Odin was said to experience a shamanic death while hanging from the World Tree, and received knowledge of the runes, a language of shapes and sounds that make magick. Each rune is not just a symbol, but is the actual embodiment of a power. Odin then gave the runes to humanity. Though not embraced by modern ceremonial magicians, the runes have become beloved by modern witches as a magickal alphabet and aid in spell casting. The runes are used to divine the future, receive guidance, and make powerful changes. Odin and his ancient rune magician followers are another bridge between the shamanic traditions of tribal people and the more systematic approaches of formal magicians.

Though not of Indo-European origin, but residing in a climate similar to that of the Northern tribes, are the traditions of Finnish practitioners. Väinämöinen, the primary figure of the mythical songs compiled in the Finnish national epic the Kalevala, is a divine being of even greater scope than Merlin. He is considered both a godlike divinity and a tribal figure, with similarities to both the shaman, traveling between the worlds of humanity and the divine, and the magician, as he uses song and poetry to make his magick, like the bards of Celtic tradition and the temple priests with their words of power and secret tongues. It is interesting how the mythical figures of Merlin, Odin, and Väinämöinen all possess an aspect of the wild man, poet, and magician.

Though most of us involved in neopaganism think of the Indus Valley traditions as those that migrated west through Europe, another branch settled in India, creating what we think of today as Hindu society. Hindu mystics form a bridge from the Stone Age wise ones, with their cave paintings of horned gods similar to those found in Europe, to a fully developed society with a formal priestly caste known as the Brahmins. In Vedic society, the Brahmins hold a similar status to that held by the Druids in Celtic traditions, yet unlike the Celts, their lore, mythos, and esoteric systems were recorded in a written format. The Brahmins experienced no persecution in the form of the Burning Times, so to this day, much of their lore survives. The oldest lore of ancient India contains cave paintings and images similar to the horned figures in European lore. There is a strong similarity between the dark goddesses of India and those of the European tradition. The knotwork in Indian art, though more angular in its features, likewise shares associations with the Celtic knot art.

Modern magicians wonder how many other similarities we might share with India, and whether we can reconstruct what was lost in the West from what was preserved in the East, with regard to knowledge of the forces of energy, both in the human body and in the cosmos. Many ceremonial magicians look to the Eastern teachings to compare and revive the Western traditions, as their tantric lore, and even their elemental tattva symbols show up in the modern Hermetic teachings. Even the Far East teachings of Taoism—Taoist alchemy and the use of the I Ching divination system—show up in Hermetic magick. The image of the Asian sages and wizards is not far off from that of the Western magician.

Magick Underground

Magick’s decline from the public arena came about with the rise of Christianity as the dominant force in Europe and the suppression of the native religions. Even magicians who embraced a Christian framework were not always well received, as the suppression of magick had as much to do with politics and power as it did with theology. Magick embraced by the Church and priests were claimed as miracles, while magick from any other source was labeled Satanism. It is in this time that the split between the formerly complementary partnership of the intuitive feminine mysteries and the more direct male mysteries became pronounced. Magick was divided into the cunning traditions of the forest folk and peasantry, and the high magick of the courts and secret workshops.

The Hermetic magick that grew among the educated classes of European men incorporated a wide range of traditions into its fold. Alchemy from the East and Middle East, mixed with Egyptian and Greek symbolism, became entwined with the Jewish lore of the Kabbalah. The Hermetic texts made their way into the philosopher class, to the point where some saw Hermes as a Christ figure, or more appropriately, the first ancient pagan Christian. Christian mythos became an allegory for the personal salvation and resurrection of the magician. Exploration and experimentation of the ancient mysteries in this new context grew. Texts were copied and added to, increasing our magickal theories and understanding. Magickal alphabets were created to encode information. Though there were persecutions, and many did not escape them, the upper class endured a different type of Burning Times than did the hedge witches, midwives, and unfortunate victims of village hysteria.

In the first century BCE, a Jewish-Egyptian alchemist made a great contribution to the world of magick and alchemy. Named Maria and referred to as Maria Prophetissa, Maria the Jewess, or Miriam, she is considered by some to be the first alchemist and the inventor of several alchemical processes and pieces of equipment, including the balneum Maria, or bain-marie, a water bath similar to an early form of the double boiler. Very little is known of the historic details of her life, as she was confused with Moses’s sister Miriam and later equated with Mary Magdalene.

Simon Magus is a controversial magician figure from the early Christian era. He was a magician and spiritual leader with quite a reputation in Samaria and Rome, and is given credit for the founding of the Simonian Gnostic tradition. He was known to perform magick, conjure spirits, brew potions, and advocate freedom in sexuality. The early Christian Church obviously saw Simon Magus as a rival to their figure of Jesus Christ, and our knowledge of him comes through their records. Simon and Peter entered into a conflict, and Simon allegedly died in a magickal duel with Peter, either flying and fatally falling when Peter canceled his power to fly, or failing to resurrect himself once he had entombed himself in the earth. His story is an example of how the early Christian Church sought converts by showing that its magick, or “miracles,” were stronger than those of other magicians and more worthy of attention. Simon’s Gnostic cult continued onward for a short time, sharing space with the early Christians, but eventually all his writings were destroyed and his cult died out with the rise of the mainstream Christian Church.

The work of the scholar known as Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite dates to the fifth century and includes the Divine Names, Celestial Hierarchy, Mystical Theology, Ecclesiastical Hierarchy, and many epistles. His work showed the influence of Neoplatonism, and he is credited with bringing the pagan traditions of Neoplatonism into a Christian framework, making it accessible to those in both the Eastern and Western churches. His work includes teachings on the names and nature of God, the celestial hierarchy along with the angelic realms and orders, and mystical theology. He provides a bridge to keep the pagan scholars’ material alive and growing in the dominant Christian world.

Albertus Magnus held many titles, as master magician, Dominican bishop, alchemist, astrologer, count, and eventual saint. He is regarded as the founder of planetary magick and the use of plants and gems in magick. It is thought that his reputation as a magician might have held up his canonization. He died in 1280 and was canonized in 1932. The Vatican denied that he was the author of his alchemical manuscripts.

The life of Pietro d’Abano is an interesting one to note in the history of magick, as he lived during the transition from freedom to persecution. When he was young, the occult arts were practiced freely. He became a magician, astrologer, and physician, as well as an advocate for natural magick in healing, and divining the character of an individual by facial features, or physiognomy. By the end of his life, in 1316, the occult arts were highly suspect and the Inquisition was just around the corner. In the fourteenth century, his body was exhumed and publicly burned.

The French alchemist Nicholas Flamel allegedly discovered the Philosopher’s Stone, the elixir of immortality, after being obsessed with a magickal text and eventually traveling to Toledo, Spain, to consult the rabbis there. Some accounts say he is still alive and walking the Earth today with his beloved wife, Perenelle. He did, however, disappear from the history books by 1417 and left considerable wealth to many hospitals, churches, and chapels. As Flamel was a simple scribe, his legacy points to the potential transmutation of lead to gold to fund these endeavors.

Marsilio Ficino followed a path similar to that of Albertus Magnus, studying both natural and planetary magick. Like Magnus, Ficino had many different roles beside being a magician, including physician and priest. His system of Hermetic magick focused on the planets and their influence on health. Due to his political and religious connections, as well as his doctrine that magick was completely compatible with Christianity, he was never persecuted. Both Agrippa and Paracelsus studied Ficino’s work.

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola was a magician and Christian scholar in Italy in the 1400s. He studied at the Platonic Academy founded by Marsilio Ficino, under the patronage of the Medici family. He became a notable scholar in the Hermetic tradition at an early age. He was at least partly responsible for bringing the Qabalah into the Western traditions. He is famous for the quote, “No science more effectively proves the divinity of Christ than magick and Cabala.” His work made him quite controversial with the Catholic Church. In 1487, under the direction of Pope Innocent VIII, his work was condemned. He was forced to retract his writings and teachings and spent some time in jail. Later, Pope Alexander VI deemed his works free of any heresy.

Cornelius Agrippa was a renowned magician of the sixteenth century, and his Three Books of Occult Philosophy, still available in print today, is a staple in the modern Western esoteric lore. He traveled extensively and studied Kabbalah and Hermeticism, and was a leading force in the Christianized forms of Cabala. Thought not identified as a witch himself, he spoke about the superiority of the feminine gender and, while in Metz, acted as public advocate for a girl accused of witchcraft. Though he got her acquitted, he was then accused of witchcraft himself. He managed to stay ahead of witch hunters and print his book despite the Inquisition’s attempts to stop him. He developed quite a sinister reputation undeservedly, and might have been the prototype for the Dr. Faust character.

Giordano Bruno was a Dominican, magician, and mnemonist, best known for his contributions to the Art of Memory, a system of memorization originating in Greece. His work fused the Art of Memory with Hermetic magick. He was charged with heresy and was forced to flee the order and Italy. He traveled extensively, and his “Giordanist” circles in Germany might have played a role in the development of the Rosicrucians. His teachings also eventually made their way into the Freemason teachings. Modern American witch Lori Bruno claims descent from Giordano and says that he was a practitioner of the Old Religion of witchcraft.

Pioneering work on angelic lore was done by Elizabethan magician and scholar John Dee, along with his psychic partner Edward Kelley, though the two barely got to use the intricate system of Enochian magick they received, including an entire language and alphabet. Records of it survived until the modern age, where it was used and built upon by magicians of the Golden Dawn and their successors. Both were surrounded in controversy, as Dee was Queen Elizabeth’s court astrologer and adviser on occult matters and was possibly a spy. Kelley had a reputation for theft and lying, though Dee claimed that he was a gifted scryer, and that without his talents, the transmission of the Enochian teachings would not have been possible.

While some magicians remained in their intellectual towers and temples, some found their way into the natural world to continue their understanding of God. Paracelsus, famous and volatile alchemist and father of much of our modern medicine, gave up on academia to study with the gypsies and wise women of the woods who knew more of the world of nature and curing the ills of humankind than the growing community of medical practitioners. He also insisted, like Hippocrates before him, that knowledge of astrology was essential for any doctor. Paracelsus could be considered one of the fathers of modern “holistic” medicine, as he believed in treating both the body and the soul, and the imbalances in the relationship between the two. He looked at the effect of astrology and the weather on health, and believed in the power of magick and spirits as well as medicine. Reportedly, he had a crystal in his sword hilt that contained a spirit. Like Paracelsus, many of the pioneers in science and medicine, including Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton, were also advocates of astrology, alchemy, and other esoteric arts. Modern biographies often whitewash such information to make these figures more “respectable” to the modern world.

The Comte de Saint Germain is an enigmatic figure in European magick and mysticism. Very little factual history is known of this man. Reports of his behavior are mixed and dubious at best, ranging from a wonderman alchemist capable of removing the flaws from gems to spy, braggart, womanizer, and con artist. After his death, lore about Saint Germain grew, portraying him as an adept of the mysteries, a mason, a Rosicrucian, and eventually a figure in Theosophy as a hidden master or ascended being, guiding the forces of magick and ceremonial orders from another plane of existence. His legend plays an important role for Theosophically inclined witches and magicians.

Francis Barrett was a major figure in jump-starting the revival of magick. The majority of the material in his book The Magus was composed mostly of large passages from Agrippa’s Three Books of Occult Philosophy, which were not available at the time, and his book and students brought the occult arts to light in the early 1800s.

Eliphas Lévi was another clergyman fascinated with the occult. Ordained as a deacon, he was eventually expelled, most likely for studying or teaching doctrines contrary to the Church teachings. He is best known for developing associations between the tarot, the Qabalah, the Hebrew alphabet, and the elements. He died the day Aleister Crowley was born, and Crowley counted him as one of his past incarnations. Lévi greatly influenced the Golden Dawn system of magick.

Paschal Beverly Randolph was an occultist of many trades, from spiritualist and practitioner of high magick to hoodoo root doctor. He is best known for his contributions to mirror magick for use in developing conscious clairvoyance and practicing sex magick. He might have met Lévi in his travels, and he certainly influenced the next generation of mages, including Crowley and Blavatsky.

While the magicians plied their craft in the courts of Europe under the cosmology of Christianity, historians still argue as to what the witches were up to. Were they only scattered remnants of folk belief masquerading as witchcraft? Were there true cults educated and devoted to teaching the mysteries? It depends on whom you ask.

Many believe the witchcraft traditions continued in secret, hidden from the eyes of Christianity, at least for a time. These advocates envision an organized cult of the Goddess. Critics on the other end of the spectrum wonder what, if any, folk magick survived. As is so often the case, the truth is likely to be somewhere in between. There is enough anecdotal evidence to conclude that witchcraft, in some form or function, existed in Europe, though it was not likely a large organization. Much like paganism today, it was probably a loose collection of practitioners, some more serious and educated in the mysteries than others. Basic folk beliefs continued under Christianity, as well as the vocation of cunning men and women in the village. I’m sure that some of the keepers of the flame knew the old mysteries in one form or another, and kept them going for those who felt the call. It is in those mysteries that the roots of the witch and magician remained entwined during this dark period of history, although they were separated by class and culture.

The influence of the East on both the alchemist magicians and the witch cults is a point deserving of deep thought. Whereas the Eastern influences can be traced more overtly in ceremonial magick, with its written texts, many a traditional witch story will tell you that the office of the Man in Black in the coven structure, often cited as the Devil by Christian prosecutors, was not originally a symbol of anything, but was literally a black man who taught them the arts and mysteries, suggesting a Moorish connection. Black also became associated with the esoteric arts because of alchemy, coming from the land of Khem, Egypt, the black lands of rich Nile delta soil and the Arabic word for black (khem), which closely resembles the Arabic word for wisdom. The “chem” of alchemy and chemistry comes from this root. The Moorish kingdom in Spain lasted from 711 CE to 1492 and influenced Western occultism, art, and science. The Moors introduced many concepts and words to Europe, from Arabic numerals to the terms zenith and nadir in astrology. Arabic Qabalah, similar to the Hebrew version, delved deep into the study of numbers and words to find their true meanings. The city of Toledo, Spain, became synonymous with study of the occult arts. Christian Rosenkreutz, the mythical founder of the Rosicrucian Mysteries (which led to the modern movements of the Golden Dawn), was said to have studied in Fez, Morocco.

The rise of Islam in the East might have caused those in the Middle East who were devoted to older pagan faiths to move west to escape Islam. Through their migration, they eventually came to influence the Old Religion of Europe. Some might have hidden beneath the veneer of the Islamic tradition as they traveled. The formal structure of the coven, holidays, and ranks might have been aspects imported to the cults of the Goddess and family traditions from contact with the Saracens and Sufis. Gerald Gardner, who is believed to have been initiated into a Sufi order while traveling in the East, states in his book Witchcraft Today that witches say their cult comes from the East. The Eastern traditions could have influenced the West, or they could have come from a similar root, terrestrially, or the mystics of each culture could have found the same inner-world inspiration from the same symbols and actions. Teachers such as traditional witch Robert Cochrane, magician and occultist Rollo Ahmed, Sufi master Idries Shah, and the material of the Pickingill tradition brought to light by E. W. Liddell all point to Eastern influences predating Gerald Gardner.

Both Sufis and witches believe in a power that can be raised and transmitted, a power that is not symbolic but is an actual energy. They called it baraka, meaning “blessing” or “power.” The Sufi saying “Baraka bashad” means “may the blessings be” and is strikingly similar to the “Blessed be” of witches. As in witchcraft, some Sufi practices have elements of sacred sexuality and the conference of blessing through sexual actions. In particular, there are traditions similar to the fivefold kiss, as outlined in the classic The Jewel in the Lotus by Allen Edwardes. The Aniza Bedouin were taught by the Sufi Abu el-Atahiyya (748–828 CE), and his disciples were known as Wise Ones and commemorated him with the image of the horns of a goat and a torch between them. A group of his disciples ended up in Spain under Moorish rule. The Dhulqarneni, or Two-Horned Ones, are a cult similar to the Aniza that flourished in Morocco and Spain despite the more orthodox Islamic authority’s attempts to suppress it. The Dhulqarneni have many similarities to the image of witches, as they were associated with the Moon, danced in a circle to raise power, spoke Muslim prayers backwards, invoked the “Black Man” El Aswad, met at the crossroads, marked themselves with a small wound from a ritual knife at initiation, carried forked staffs (stangs), wore ritual robes, and met in groups of thirteen. Their meetings were called the Zabbat, “the Forceful or Powerful One,” which sounds strikingly similar to the Sabbat of the witch.

The Templars were another point of contact between the West and East. Through a Christian order of knights, the Knights Templar were far from ordinary Christians, and their mysteries have never been fully explained to the satisfaction of all. Started in the aftermath of the first crusade, ostensibly to act as warrior monks to protect pilgrims to the Holy Land, the Templars did little protecting and spent most of their time in the Middle East, establishing themselves as an order, in the ruins of what was believed to be King Solomon’s Temple. With rank and privileges afforded by the Church that no other group had, they soon became a force in the Christian world, starting modern banking. Occultists speculate that they found something in the ruins, from the Holy Grail to the Ark of the Covenant, to evidence that Judeo-Christian tradition was nothing more than myth, and not literal truth, as believed. After rising in power and prestige, they fell from grace in the eyes of the Church and royalty. Members of the order were arrested and tortured, ostensibly over a financial dispute with King Philip of France. Philip forced Pope Clement V to disband the order.

The Templars were accused of heresy, homosexuality, and witchcraft. They were particularly reviled for their worship of a being called Baphomet, and their image of this deity as a horned being with a goat head, beard, and hindquarters, and of mixed gender, with female breasts and erect phallus. A candle was often at the crown, as well as the inverted pentagram. Baphomet bore a resemblance to both the Christian Devil and the witch’s image of the divine, and in particular to the witch’s God, mixing male and female, human and animal characteristics. Idris Shah Sayid, as reported by Doreen Valiente in her An ABC of Witchcraft, suggested his name comes from the Arabic Abufihamat, or “Father of Understanding.” Baphomet is much like the symbol of the Aniza Bedouins. Our modern image of the Devil from the tarot is drawn from the same image. The figure of Baphomet is also strikingly similar to that of the Greek god Pan, as occultist Eliphas Lévi equated Baphomet with Pan and the horned god found in medieval witchcraft lore. Though the androgynous nature does not seem very godlike to many, the old traditions often started with a bisexual androgynous figure.

Modern scholars suppose that the Knights might have been trained in the mysticism and philosophy of the East, though obviously not in the Islamic mysteries, as the keeping of idols would go against the core beliefs of Muslims. The Eastern mysteries in which the Knights were versed seemed much more pagan, yet were organized into orders and ranks within the larger organization. And what, if anything, did the Knights Templar tradition have to do with the magick attributed to King Solomon? No one knows for sure, but there are a few interesting parallels to what witches have been accused of, though none of the Templars are reported to have identified with witchcraft.

Though the Templars were disbanded, a full disclosure of their finances and membership was never discovered. Legends persist of the Templars who escaped persecution ending up in Scotland and starting the Masonic movement, another group with a mythical connection to Solomon and the ancient world. The Masons incorporated a lot of Templar mythical themes into their initiation rites. Others suppose that the mystics of the order either were absorbed into other Christian organizations or blended in with the rural folk and peasantry. Perhaps some put their mysticism to use as cunning men, and the existing cunning men and witches traded lore with the Masons, bringing the Eastern influence. With the expansion of Freemasonry, the cunning men of a community might have joined for the measure of secrecy it afforded them, both influencing the growth of Masonry and in turn being influenced by it. British Traditional Witchcraft degree systems bear a strong resemblance to the Masonic model, and one might debate which came first.

Through the Masonic connection we could have the additional link of Solomonic magick found in the Craft. During the Burning Times, folk witches were said to be caught with copies of the old grimoires, such as versions of the Key of Solomon. If there was simply a folk tradition of magick and not an organized tradition of some sort, it seems rather strange that pagan folk healers would want and keep Judeo-Christian manuals of magick unless there was some deeper connection and use. In Venice during the seventeenth century, Laura Malipero was caught with a copy of the Key of Solomon in her home, with a handwritten book that included excerpts of the key she transcribed. Though many critics will say that the witch’s magickal journal is found only in the modern craft, and the term Book of Shadows appears only in the post-Gardner era, here we see at least some historical record of the practice of keeping a magickal book among witches. A woodcut dating from 1555, from the book History of the Northern Peoples by Bishop Olaus Magnus, depicts a witch using a knife and magickal herbs to control a demon she has conjured, reminiscent of the techniques found in the grimoires of Solomon, as an early version of the Key of Solomon is dated 1572. Though they are different systems of magick and different theologies all together, we still see a connection between the arts of high and low magick.

The Modern Magickal Revival

In the modern magickal revival of the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, we saw a strange switch in the gender roles of magick. Many occultists believed that, on the subtle planes, those of the feminine gender mediate a more masculine, projective energy and those of a masculine gender mediate a more feminine, receptive energy. This seemed to prove true, at least in part, with the coming of the New Age. Some striking women played a strong role in the more intellectual mysteries and theorems of the New Age, while two men became associated with the traditions of witchcraft and the Goddess. Both phenomena made the image of the male witch and the female magician more common in our collective mind, though we still have plenty of examples of male magicians and female witches in this age of revival.

The tradition of Theosophy was an impetus for the New Age metaphysical movement in the West. Though not a tradition of magicians, it does have a magickal bent that often is overlooked. Theosophy, like the work of the Hermetic Qabalists, brought the strands of truth from many world traditions into a harmonious whole, though it is interesting that the Theosophical teachings tended to focus on the Eastern mysteries, Christianity, and those Western traditions of the pagan temple traditions, such as those of Egypt and Greece. The more ecstatic mysteries of the rural pagans, along with the Jewish mysticism, were not emphasized. The two most notable pioneers of the Theosophical movement were the founder of the society, Helena Blavatsky, who officially began the organization in 1875, and her spiritual successor Alice Bailey. Rather than have the image of the wise hedge witch, dispensing folk cures and conjuring magick, each woman wrote volumes of intellectually dense material, inspired by the hidden masters of the Theosophical tradition. Blavatsky’s Isis Unveiled was much more magickal in nature than her later work The Secret Doctrine. One of Bailey’s numerous works was entitled A Treatise on White Magic, emphasizing the spiritual components of magickal traditions.

While the archetype of the feminine intellectual and spiritual leader was on the rise in Theosophy, we had the more familiar image of the male magician in the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and its various offshoots. Founded in 1888, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn has a history rich with controversy and mystery. The root of much of the mystery is found in a document known as the Cipher Manuscript, and the speculations as to its veracity. In one popularly accepted history of the order, Rev. A.F.A. Woodford found the manuscript and believed it to be from antiquity. Woodford, a Mason and Hermetic Society member, consulted Dr. William Wynn Westcott and Dr. William Robert Woodman, both officers in the Rosicrucian Society of England, and then later Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers and his psychic wife, Moina Mathers. The Cipher contained the framework for a series of rituals. A document with the manuscript stated that anyone who deciphered it should contact “Fraulein Anna Sprengel” in Hanover, Germany. Westcott claimed to have done so, and further stated that Sprengel had given him permission to establish an order of magicians as a branch of the Rosicrucian Order of England. Together, his aspiring group of would-be magicians founded the Isis-Urania Temple of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and launched one of the most influential traditions of modern magick the world has ever known. At one time, members included figures such as William Butler Yeats, Arthur Edward Waite, and Florence Farr.

Of course, critics would argue that this unusual history only served to give the founders some sense of legitimacy and connection to the past through a mysterious German woman and that, in the end, her permission and authority had little influence on the triumphs and tragedies of the lodge.

The Order of the Golden Dawn had the intellectual bent that one would expect from the upper class of England. With their global view, they reconstructed rituals from the Cipher Manuscript with a foundation in Hermetic Qabalah, using the Tree of Life as their primary glyph and symbol system, but synthesizing Jewish, Christian, pagan, and Eastern elements to create a whole complicated cosmology and system of magickal theory. They drew heavily upon the scholarly work and research available at the time, and the work of previous magicians such as Eliphas Lévi, Cornelius Agrippa, Francis Barrett, and John Dee.

The group experienced a variety of internal conflicts and schisms. Samuel Mathers claimed psychic contact with the true rulers of the order, the “Secret Chiefs,” which many assume to be a group of ascended beings guiding from the invisible planes of reality, similar to Theosophy’s masters. These invisible rulers named Mathers the “Visible Head” of the order. His leadership eventually resulted in the dissolution of the group, yet the body of theory, ritual, and lore remained on the terrestrial planes and eventually was made available by others, most notably Israel Regardie. Modern magicians have used and adapted the Golden Dawn material in their quest for the completion of the Great Work—the enlightenment of the magician and the Philosopher’s Stone of the alchemist.

Many attribute Mathers’ relationship with the young and controversial figure of Aleister Crowley as a leading reason for the dissolution of the order. Though this certainly was a factor, not all the blame can be laid at Crowley’s feet. Crowley joined the Golden Dawn in 1898 and became Mathers’ protégé, much to the dismay of many of the other members. The two eventually had a falling-out marked by not only verbal assaults but also magickal ones. Crowley was a prolific and insightful author on the topics of magick and mysticism, but his greatest contribution to Western occultism was the transmission of The Book of the Law and the formation of his religion, Thelema. With the guidance of a spirit named Aiwass, thought to be Crowley’s Holy Guardian Angel, or Higher Self, Crowley proclaimed himself the prophet of the next aeon, the Aeon of Horus. Thelema is Greek for “will,” and the tradition is based on performing one’s True Will over all other laws and creeds. Though it is erroneously believed by many to be a license to do whatever you want, Thelema refers not to the ego’s will but to the soul’s. According to Crowley, Thelema holds the pattern of spiritual development for the next age.

Though Crowley was a magician dedicated to the Great Work and the highest aims of magick, his life is often misunderstood, and even in life, Crowley promoted that misunderstanding. Reveling in the title of “the most wicked man in the world,” and using a name his mother called him as a child, “the Beast,” he did believe that the principles of Thelema would replace those of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and his apocalyptic ritual symbolism reflected that. His lifestyle and sense of self shook Victorian society, though many of the things he was ostracized for in his age, such as his bisexuality, would not be considered so scandalous today. Between reveling in his reputation and the fact that modern Satanists later drew upon some of his writings, he erroneously has been labeled a Satanist and thus is avoided by many seekers, even many witches.

In 1922, Crowley became the leader of the Ordo Templi Orientis, or O.T.O., a group of magicians working through sex magick. He also was involved in the Argenteum Astrum, the A ... A ... or Order of the Silver Star, as an initiatory tradition, separate from, but harmonious with, the O.T.O. Conflicting reports state that Crowley was the founder of Argenteum Astrum and eventually abandoned it, while others state that the order is far older than and independent of Crowley, based on individual teacher-student relationships, and that he simply brought it to mainstream occult attention. As with so many topics in Crowley’s life, and in the history of magick in general, we may never find an answer that satisfies both academics and devotees.

Crowley’s teachings on magick were based heavily on the principles and structure of the Golden Dawn system, yet he interwove his own Thelemic cosmology to be the prominent element of the rituals. He reworked and rewrote many of the famous Golden Dawn rituals to suit his own purposes. Crowley is responsible for popularizing the spelling of magick with a k, to differentiate it from sideshow stage magic and illusions. He changed some Qabalistic and tarot correspondences, based on the inspired message of The Book of the Law. He encoded much of his own magickal teachings at the end of his life in the monumental Thoth Tarot and The Book of Thoth text in conjunction with the art of Lady Frieda Harris. Unlike the focus of the Golden Dawn, his workings had a much stronger sexual content and greater emphasis placed on the Goddess as an aspect of divinity, manifesting through the star goddess Nuit and the goddess Babylon. Like his magickal motto, Perdurabo, which literally means “I will endure till the end,” his work has endured and continues to inspire and sometimes irritate magicians and witches of this aeon.

A lesser-known breakaway from the Golden Dawn, yet one who arguably has had as profound an effect on modern magick and Wicca, is Violet Firth, better known by her magickal name, Dion Fortune, short for “Deo, Non Fortuna,” or “by God, not chance.” Fortune left the Golden Dawn to form the Fraternity of the Inner Light, which eventually was renamed the Society of the Inner Light and is still in existence today. Here again we have an even stronger feminine magician archetype, both through her own persona and those of her characters. Fortune wrote several magickal texts, such as The Mystical Qabalah, but was best known for the deep wisdom teachings that influenced modern magick found in her magickal fiction, such as The Sea Priestess, Demon Lover, and The Goat-Foot God. Many feel that she openly expressed beliefs and theology in these novels and stories that she could not credibly present in more academic work, as she was writing before the repeal of the Witchcraft Act in England. She is famous for a line in The Sea Priestess that is quoted by magicians and witches today: “All the gods are one god, and all the goddesses are one goddess, and there is one initiator.” Though Fortune was not considered a witch, much of the poetry in her novels has a very witchy feel to it, such as this passage from The Sea Priestess:

I am the soundless, boundless, bitter sea;

All things in the end shall come to me.

Mine is the kingdom of Persephone,

The inner earth, where lead the pathways three.

Who drinks the waters of that hidden well

Shall see the things whereof he dare not tell—

Shall tread the shadowy path that leads to me—

Diana of the Ways and Hecate,

Selene of the Moon, Persephone.

Dion Fortune and her Sea Priestess character express the archetype of the witch as high priestess, regal and otherworldly, rather than cunning woman. Fortune’s great contribution to the Western mysteries was the move away from sole reliance on the Qabalah and a quest to find the indigenous wisdom of the British Isles and the greenery of the land and the Goddess. She brought together the pagan and Christian mysteries of the Round Table and the Grail with the mysteries of Plato’s Atlantis, forms of spiritualism and high magick. She died in 1946, but many claim that she is guiding the traditions she founded from the inner planes.

From the waves of the ceremonial revival in England came the witchcraft revival, with two very prominent and vocal men at the forefront, Gerald Gardner and Alex Sanders. Two active lineages in the modern craft, Gardnerian and Alexandrian witchcraft, still bear their names. Though many associate witchcraft with the Goddess, feminism, and the mysteries of women, these two prominent and controversial men left their stamp indelibly on the traditions and showed that the Craft has had a male side to it all along.

Gerald B. Gardner was a British civil servant who spent time traveling in the East and exploring the occult. He claimed initiation into a New Forest witch coven in England in 1939. After the repeal of the Witchcraft Act in 1951, Gardner started his own coven and brought the teachings of the Craft to public light. Critics would argue that his version of witchcraft was an amalgam of several different sources. He was influenced by his time in the East, as well as by the works of Margaret Murray and Theosophy. Gardner, like the founders of the Golden Dawn, was a Mason as well. It’s hard to see what elements of these other traditions were a smoke screen for the New Forest coven, as members initially met in a Rosicrucian theater and possibly called themselves the Crotona Fellowship. The Fellowship was described as Rosicrucian, Masonic, or Theosophical, depending on the observer, and many believe it was a façade for the smaller group of witches to find appropriate new members. Few modern pagans realize that Gardner also was a member of the modern Druidic revival and held a charter for Crowley’s O.T.O. organization. Gardner’s version of the Craft seemed to embody all of these elements.

The strongest link to a line of modern ritual magick comes from Aleister Crowley. Gardner had a passing acquaintance with Crowley late in the magician’s life. Author Francis King, among others, believes that it was Crowley who wrote the Gardnerian Book of Shadows. Though Crowley does not show up directly in his own works and personal accounts, there is speculation that he had a link to the witchcraft cult before his studies of ceremonial magick, to a line of witches potentially linked to the New Forest coven. George Pickingill, an infamous cunning man and witch of his time, was said to preside over nine covens in Norfolk, England, in the late 1800s. Crowley potentially was offered membership or even initiated into one of Pickingill’s covens in his youth. Rumor has it that he was dismissed for his contemptuous attitude toward women in positions of power before he completed his training. The link of common initiatory traditions in the Craft might have been the foundation for Gardner’s and Crowley’s friendship.

Like Crowley, Pickingill was a controversial man, outwardly calling for the overthrow of Christianity, and was considered by some to be a Satanist. He advocated for witches and Satanists to band together to overthrow Christianity. He was known for his magickal powers, as it was said that he could command imps to pick the fields while he smoked his pipe and relaxed. He might have borrowed liberally from some academic and classical components of magickal texts, such as passages from Barrett’s The Magus, to form his own tradition. He, too, might have influenced the rise of the Golden Dawn’s generation of magicians. Doreen Valiente alleges, in Witchcraft for Tomorrow, that Pickingill might have had a hand, along with his Masonic students, in creating the Cipher Manuscript, which led to the formation of the Golden Dawn, though most researchers of the Golden Dawn’s history would disagree. Moina Mathers, however, was said to have attended one of Pickingill’s demonstrations of his magickal prowess for a group of Freemasons and Rosicrucians. The waters get murky when trying to determine who borrowed from whom and where a given teaching originated. How much of an influence Pickingill had on Crowley, Gardner, or anybody else is vastly debated.

Alex Sanders’ line of witchcraft had the definitive flair of ceremonial magick to it. His witchcraft origin is not very clear, as various accounts exist of his initiation, from his grandmother to his uncle bringing him into the family tradition. Some even speculate that he was a failed Gardnerian initiate who began his own tradition based on the rituals he received, with some accidental miscopies from the Book of Shadows that slightly changed the theology and format, and then concocted his family history story as a cover. Maxine Sanders, Sanders’ ex-wife and high priestess, paints a portrait of an established living tradition predating Alex’s contact with any Gardnerians. In any case, the work he put forth to the world definitely was influenced by the world of high magick in terms of symbolism, ritual, and structure.

Sanders was inspired in particular by W. E. Butler, a member of the Society of the Inner Light and author of The Magician: His Training and Work, and Franz Bardon, author of Initiation into Hermetics. Author Janet Farrar, who is responsible for popularizing much of Alexandrian Wicca with her late husband, Stewart Farrar, and Gavin Bone, speculates, in the book Progressive Witchcraft, that Sanders was trying to turn the folk magick of witchcraft into something more ceremonially oriented. Witches in the Alexandrian tradition often receive training in the arts of high magick, including fluid condensers, Enochian magick, Golden Dawn rituals, and planetary squares, which eventually made their way into other branches of Wicca.

The last major branch of magick to entwine magicians and witches is Chaos magick. Though this freeform, avant-garde, experimental movement of magick often is attributed to Peter J. Carroll and his books Liber Null and Psychonaut and even peripherally draws inspiration from the life of Aleister Crowley, the real grandfather of the Chaos magick movement and its practices is Austin Osman Spare. Spare had a brief association with Crowley as an artist for Crowley’s publication, The Equinox, and was a member of the Silver Star. Though he is an inspiration to Chaos magicians everywhere, and Chaos magick is considered cutting-edge in the world of high magick, Spare himself identified truly as a witch and was initiated into the mysteries of witchcraft by a woman known to us only as Mrs. Paterson. She called herself his second mother, or witch mother, and gave him the craft name Zos.

Spare’s form of magick was entwined with his art and sexuality. Though he met with a certain amount of critical and commercial success in England, he became disenchanted with the art scene and retired to obscurity. In the 1950s he met Gerald Gardner, who encouraged him to make sigils and talismans. Spare’s magnum opus, Zos Kia Cultus, was unfinished at his death in 1956, though he published several books and works of art during his lifetime. His forms of sigilization and sexual magick became foundation stones in the traditions of Illuminates of Thanateros, or IOT, an organization that became equated with the Chaos magick movement, as it was founded by Peter Carroll and Ray Sherwin. Expanding upon many of the theories of Spare, Thanateros embodies the dual concepts of death (Thanatos) and love (Eros) in its cosmology.

The last of the major public witches of the twentieth century to proclaim potential influence from Crowley is author, astrologer, psychic, and numerologist Sybil Leek. This English witch claimed to have met with Crowley when she was nine, and he encouraged her poetry and magick, teaching her secret words and vibrations of power. She lived in the New Forest area and was initiated into several traditions, including a New Forest coven descended from George Pickingill. In the time of Gardner’s and Sanders’ popularity, Leek, too, weighed in as a public voice of the Old Religion, and eventually moved to America to share her knowledge and writings with the world. Often at odds with the witchcraft community, she was against ritual nudity but advocated cursing in situations that warranted it, even writing a book of curses. She wrote many books on a variety of esoteric topics, and claimed that the spirit of Madame Blavatsky acted as her guide, urging her to write about reincarnation. Leek lived a colorful and adventuresome life, tying together many esoteric professions under the banner of “witch.”

Modern authors continue to walk the paths of both the magician and the witch. Popular author Donald Michael Kraig has done for ceremonial magick what Scott Cunningham did for Wicca, making it accessible to those who truly seek and wish to live it. Few know that Kraig also is initiated in witchcraft traditions and was the onetime roommate of Cunningham, forming more than one bridge with the pagan community.

William Gray was a well-respected occultist of the twentieth century known for his work in the Hermetic tradition and ritual magick. He founded a magickal tradition known as the Sangreal Sodality, yet he had contact with traditional witch Robert Cochrane, and the two seemed to influence each other. Gray’s Sangreal Prayer has made its way into traditions descended from Cochrane and can be found in the book Witchcraft: A Tradition Renewed by Doreen Valiente and Evan Jones:

Beloved Bloodmother of my especial breed,
Welcome me at this moment with your willing womb.
Let me learn to live in love with all you are,
So my seeking spirit serves the Sangreal.

Other practitioners who straddle the lines between witchcraft, paganism, and ceremonial magick include R. J. Stewart, Dolores Ashcroft-Nowicki, Herman Slater, Edmund Buczynski, John Michael Greer, Kala Trobe, and Jason Augustus Newcomb.

Though we’d like to believe that there exist secret and unbroken lineages of Gnostic magicians, reverent to the Goddess and the true mysteries behind Christianity and all religions, as suggested in the popular fiction of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, few are stepping forward. Like most members of the family traditions of witchcraft, those who claim any lineage to pre-Golden Dawn magickal traditions are dismissed or put through an academic scrutiny that does not uphold their claims. I’d like to think the world is full of secret orders, working their magick behind closed doors for the evolution and healing of the planet, keeping the chains of the mysteries alive. Are these secret orders real? Perhaps, but perhaps not. We might never know for certain, and maybe it’s best that way, as there is always a bit of mystery and mythos in the history of magick.

Though this history of the entwined roots of witches and magicians only scratches the surface, and a deeper study could reveal much more, it does begin to demonstrate to both sides that the traditions and beliefs we have in common are just as great as the divisions between us, and it is possible to claim identity and lineage with both sides of this magickal coin.

Hermetic Magick In Modern Witchcraft

During the time of the Witchcraft Renaissance of Gardner and Sanders, anything esoteric and occult generally was regarded as witchcraft, including Theosophy, Spiritualism, and forms of ceremonial magick, even if practitioners of such traditions would not regard them as such. Most witches don’t realize what a strong influence a wide range of Hermetic and ceremonial teachings had upon the Craft during this revival.

The archetypal magician images of Merlin and Thoth were as much of a guide to those new to the faith as the triple goddess and the stag god. In many traditions of witchcraft, particularly forms of British Traditional Wicca lineages, the high priest is referred to as the magus in the Book of Shadows. In some Welsh traditions, the female witch is referred to as Gwiddon and the male Gwyddon, both closely related to the Welsh mage god Gwydion, brother to Arianrhod and often seen as a Merlin-esque figure.

My first exposure to Hermetic magick was through witchcraft and the key teachings found in The Kybalion, known as the Hermetic principles. These seven principles, which I emphasize with my own students in The Inner Temple of Witchcraft training (ITOW, Chapter 8), have guided my understanding of all magick and mysticism. In them we see the paradox of the divine consisting of one force, what is called the Divine Mind and what many witches call the Web of Life or the Great Wheel, yet the divine manifests in male and female, and has many forms and faces, including our own. There is the paradox of strict monotheism or polytheism found in mysticism. When one believes in immanent divinity, both possibilities are embraced. We all are connected and one, yet we all are individuals simultaneously. Roots of this theology can be found in the pagan priests and priestesses and scholars of Egypt and Greece, as well as in India. It is this brand of polytheism that most modern witches embrace, whether they articulate it or not.

What is known to many of us as the witches’ pyramid—To Know, To Will, To Dare, and To Keep Silent—also is known as the Laws of the Magus or the Powers of the Sphinx. Its teaching can be found in the last section of the “official” history of the Golden Dawn lectures, as reprinted by Francis King in Modern Ritual Magic: “Be well assured, my Frater, that the Order of the G.D., of which you have now become a member, can show you the way to much secret Knowledge, and to much Spiritual progress, it can, we believe, lead true and patient students who can Will, Dare, Learn and be Silent to the Summum Bonum, True Wisdom and Perfect Happiness.” The four precepts actually predate both Gardnerian Wicca and the Golden Dawn. Again, did the two traditions come to similar conclusions on parallel paths, or did one borrow from the other? And just because a paper trail might find its origin, as best as it can be traced, to the world of the magus, that doesn’t necessarily mean the teaching itself originated there. These precepts most often are attributed to Lévi, but when dealing with a tradition in which little was written down, we may never know what lore the hedge witches and cunning folk taught those of their vocation. Hermetic tradition tells us the four laws of the magus go back to the sphinx, as the sphinx often is seen as an amalgamative creature consisting of the head of a human, the front of a lion, the hind of a bull, and the wings of an eagle—the totemic animals of the four fixed zodiac signs, Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, and Scorpio, which are emblems for the elements of air, fire, earth, and water, respectively. It is through the wisdom of the sphinx that a magician attains mastery. Through the wisdom of mythical Egypt, the witch priestess and mage are brought together again.

Many witches use a black and a white candle on their altar, for the Goddess and the God, respectively, with the black candle on the left side and the white candle on the right, when facing the altar. Those who look deeper into the symbolism will see the image of the Priestess card from the tarot. We “face” her, as she is flanked by the two pillars, and the candles are symbolic of opening the gates between this world and the next, as she is the guardian of the veil. Further investigation relates the two pillars to the pillars of Solomon’s temple, as well as the two outer pillars of the Tree of Life glyph—the dark Pillar of Severity on the left as you face it, and the Pillar of Mercy on the right. An altar with these candles aligns us to the ancient temple traditions rooted in Qabalistic symbolism, even when we are not consciously aware of it.

In spellcraft, ceremonial overtones are found in the use of planetary days and hours, astrological calculations, magick squares, and sigils. It has been speculated that the British Traditional markings of the athame have a connection to the Solomonic magick of spirit summoning. Phrases used to consecrate the salt and water in ritual, such as the following, are also from Solomonic magick: “Blessings be upon thee, O Creature of Salt; let all malignity and hindrance be cast forth from thee, and let all good enter within. Wherefore do I bless and consecrate thee, that thou mayest aid me,” and “I exorcise thee, O Creature of Water, that thou cast out from thee all the impurity and uncleanliness of the world of phantasm.” Though at first glance this blessing of salt and water doesn’t seem to fit a pagan folk magick tradition, in actuality it touches upon the animistic tendencies inherent in witchcraft and folk magick, seeing all things as having a conscious, animating spirit that can partner with us in magick. There is a spirit, a creature, animating all things—all people, animals, trees, herbs, and stones, and even salt, water, smoke, and fire.

The use of the Theban alphabet as code and script is reminiscent of codes in Hebrew, Enochian, or the Alphabet of the Magi. Many witches learn to clear the space of a ritual circle using some variation of the Golden Dawn’s most famous ritual, the LBRP, or Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram, but they often don’t understand the symbolism and meaning of this ritual. Those who do often have difficulty reconciling how the LBRP fits into the theology of witchcraft.

The beloved Charge of the Goddess poetry so often attributed solely to Doreen Valiente, Gerald Gardner’s high priestess, has its roots in older material from Charles Leland’s Aradia, or the Gospel of the Witches. Yet I found a primary concept from it almost word for word in an alchemical treatise known as The Salt of Nature Regenerated, originally written in Arabic and translated first to Dutch and then English in the late 1600s. This often-quoted line from the Charge, “And you who seek to know Me, know that your seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without,” is very similar to this alchemical teaching found in the treatise: “If that which thou seekest though find not within thee, thou wilt never find it without thee.” Did the two disciplines simply know the same mysteries, or did one influence the other? This shows a connection, if not a direct connection, between the core spiritual truths of two different yet fundamentally nature-oriented traditions.

Though most Wiccans favor a Goddess image that is triune in nature—Maiden, Mother, and Crone—the Charge of the Goddess depicts a dual Goddess—one of the Earth and the other of the stars. The starry Goddess is not far from the goddess Nuit of infinite space described in Crowley’s Thelemic cosmology in The Book of the Law. In fact, one can’t look at the teachings of Thelema and not at least see its parallels, as well as some direct contributions, to modern witchcraft. Out of all the male magicians of the Golden Dawn era, Crowley was by far the most “witchy” of the high magicians. He openly explored the shadow through sexuality and topics found too taboo, both profane and sacred, by the society around him. He was very much the wild man of the woods in spiritual, if not literal, location, exploring the frontiers of consciousness for himself and his community, bringing new teachings to the new age. It’s no wonder he would be directly associated with witchcraft, even only anecdotally in his youth, with George Pickingill; in his prime, inspiring Sybil Leek; and in his elderhood, with Gerald Gardner. Many modern practitioners, both witch and magician, affectionately refer to Crowley as “Uncle Al” for his connection to our work. Some people believe that Wicca is nothing more than an outer-court organization of his O.T.O., designed to find those who are willing to explore sex magick and bring them into the mysteries of the Eastern order.

Many witches’ first definition of magick is a variation of Crowley’s famous one, “Magick is the art and science of causing change in conformity with Will.” I like to add the word spirituality to “art and science,” but basically this is the definition that I was taught and use. Many students of witchcraft learn it, and have other teachings and ritual phrases peppered with what arguably could be called “Crowley-isms,” but are never aware of this. Though my first teachers rarely referenced Crowley or his work, the first tarot deck they showed me was the Thoth deck. Many witches are not great devotees of Crowley or Thelema, but his influence looms large, and often unconsciously, upon many strands of Western occultism. It’s only when looking back upon my training now that I can see his influence on my formative years in magick.

Crowley’s concept of Thelema, of True Will, profoundly influences how many modern witches interpret the Wiccan Rede. The lines most often quoted from The Book of the Law are “Do what thou will is the whole of the Law” and “Love is the law, love under will.” They are not a far cry from “And it harm none, do what ye will” and the witch’s teachings on Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. I learned that there are two meanings of the Wiccan Rede. The exoteric meaning is what most people look at—pursue whatever you want and desire as long as it does no harm. If you really think about it, this is a ridiculous teaching, because everything we do causes harm on some level. Witches know that, on a primal level, life feeds life. Even the most vegan, eco-friendly lifestyle causes harm on some level. If we walk across a field, we could kill an insect. Plant matter is alive, too, so if we eat something vegetative, that means the plant won’t fulfill its normal life cycle. Fighting an illness kills microbes and bacteria. We then interpret the Rede as, do as little harm as possible, and be conscious of all actions. As we become more conscious of our actions, we begin to see the more esoteric meaning of the Rede. The “will” referred to is the True Will, where we are in alignment with our soul’s purpose, and if we are in alignment at every moment, then we are consciously a force of nature and the universe. The harm we do is part of the cycles of destruction and creation. Being in our True Will requires great clarity and a transcendence of the personal ego and personal will that few achieve in every aspect of their lives. Yet both the witch and the magician strive for this goal as a path to enlightenment.

A beautiful line of poetry found in some versions of the Book of Shadows is, “I am the flame that burns in every man, and in the core of every star. I am Life and the Giver of Life, yet therefore is the knowledge of me the knowledge of Death. I am alone, the Lord within ourselves whose name is mystery of Mysteries.” This bears a close resemblance to the other most often-quoted part of The Book of the Law—“Every man and every woman is a star”—which speaks to the innate divinity at the core of every human being. Another line from the Book of Shadows is “Encourage our hearts, let thy light crystallize itself in our blood, fulfilling us of Resurrection, for there is no part of us that is not of the Gods.” This bears a striking resemblance to the Gnostic Mass of Aleister Crowley, with the lines “Make open the path of creation and of intelligence between us and our minds. Enlighten our understanding. Encourage our hearts. Let thy light crystallize itself in our blood, fulfilling us of Resurrection,” and the statement of each member when taking the Cake of Light, “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods.”

Similarities in poetry and theology lend credence to the theory that Crowley wrote the Gardnerian Book of Shadows, or at least that Gardner borrowed liberally from Crowley in reworking the book and filling in the gaps of whatever traditional material he received from the New Forest coven. Our folk history tells us that Doreen Valiente is responsible for reworking and even removing much of the Crowley influence in the Gardnerian Book of Shadows, and that she brought a greater emphasis to the Goddess, who was not as prominent in the original material; yet these bits of Crowley’s poetry have remained in publicly available versions of the Gardnerian Book of Shadows. Those who believe that the Gardnerian material can be traced to traditional witchcraft sources have an alternate suggestion for the source of the material, drawing upon Crowley’s contact with George Pickingill and his possible initiation into a line of witchcraft earlier in his life. Such advocates suggest that Gardner consulted with Crowley to aid him in filling in the gaps in the traditional material by asking him to recall the rituals and experiences of his youth. Crowley’s own Thelemic material also drew upon the witchcraft experiences of his youth, partially explaining the tone of Thelema and its resonance with witchcraft. The Gardnerian rituals and Thelemic inspirations were influenced by the same root traditions, and Crowley simply helped Gardner piece together all the material and use certain phrases to make it work. Consciously or unconsciously, Crowley possibly gave the traditional witchcraft lore a more Thelemic twist when remembering it in his elderhood to make sure his own magickal contributions lived on in Gardner’s Wicca. One must remember that Crowley’s work is far more widely available now after his death that it was in his own lifetime, and he probably did not foresee his profound impact on Western magick.

Though modern witches are not automatically followers of Thelema, we do have much in common with regard to finding our magickal will. Rather than following Crowley’s religion, I suggest that we witches study it and use the reigning themes of Crowley’s life, if not his particular employment of those themes, as inspiration. No one gave him permission to create magickal models. He simply did, using what worked for him. He didn’t do it in a flippant way, without understanding what came before. He was a scholar, who learned and practiced traditional forms of magick before seeking his own inspiration. He was well grounded in traditions of the East and West, and his innovative teachings fit well into these frameworks. He didn’t simply make them up from whole cloth, but he built upon the traditions before him, adapting them for this age.

Crowley’s famous axiom, “Ever man and every woman is a star,” suits the theme of this course. In this book, we will learn the art and science of deconstructing and reconstructing our own magickal models, our own reality maps. Thereby, we will become the center of our own system, our own star. Likewise, we will focus on the inner light and inner divine guidance, from our Holy Guardian Angel, or Higher Self, rather than dogma. Though Crowley laid a path in his rituals and teachings to follow, the lesson of his life is to be our own star, and follow the orbit and path of our own True Will, not those of our teachers. If we walk only in the footsteps of those who came before us and never venture any further, we, as a people, will not advance. We must take the steps to forge new paths in the wilderness and lead the way for those to come.

None of this is intended to imply that modern witchcraft has come solely from the traditions of Hermetic magick. We have quite a rich lore on the ancestors, the seasons, the fey, herbalism, and folk magick. But it does show that the teachings of both traditions have quite a bit in common with each other and are not in conflict. As the living traditions of witchcraft died out or went underground, later practitioners, raised in a modern intellectual society, sought to understand the wisdom of the Craft by looking at and drawing from its parallel spiritual tradition, the tradition of the magus. There was a healthy cross-pollination between mage and witch in the ancient days, when it may not have been easy to distinguish between the two, up until the times of the persecutions. We continue the traditions of using what works, learning from other wisdom traditions, and sharing what we know with those who have the eyes to see and the ears to hear.

One can’t look at the history and lore of witches and magicians without seeing the potential conflicts, real and imagined, between the traditions. I know many a witch who wants nothing to do with the world of high magick. The Hermetic traditions are a trigger point for such witches, bringing up judgmental feelings. Many believe the “high” magicians look down on them in criticism or judgment. Many witches disdain the Judeo-Christian symbolism in high magick, or the intellectual, masculine approach to the mysteries. In their opinion, high magick is full of pomp and ceremony, with few practical results, and most witches favor practical results. Some magicians look at many witches as undereducated, misinformed, and concerned about controlling a situation with their will, to the point that they miss the spiritual orientation of magick and the fundamental understanding that all mysteries lead to the same place.

When we get past these stereotypes, we see that there are many things the magician and witch can teach each other. Qabalah can teach a witch how to see the truths of many cultures and traditions, looking through cultural symbolism to the core ideas. Practical magick can show the magician how to find the divine in the most mundane and ordinary places, spiritualizing every action. Practitioners of both traditions who truly understand the mysteries know that one must incorporate the intuitive and the rational, inspiration and discipline, to be truly effective and whole. A folk song known as “The Two Magicians,” or “The Coal Black Smith,” tells the tale of a blacksmith magus and a witch. Through a shapeshifting contest, the two rivals become lovers. I see a similar alchemy in play when there is rivalry or strife between magicians and witches, as the two are far more complementary than most people think.

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