Drawing Down the Moon (17 page)

“She is,” the woman repeated.

I reacted with absolute amazement. “Wait a minute!” I said. “I've just stepped off the street from another country, from another tradition. I have never been in an Alexandrian circle in my entire live. I have no idea what you even
do!
I just don't think this is right at all, and anyway, I don't know how you conduct your rituals!” I was babbling by this time.

“Oh, it's all right,” she replied. “It's all in the book, just follow the book!”

“No,” I replied. “I won't do it. I just don't think it's right.” And I began to repeat my arguments. “Here I am, a complete stranger, I just don't think this is right.”

Meanwhile Jane was standing against the wall, bound and blindfolded, awaiting her sublime experience of initiation and hearing this unbelievable exchange. All of a sudden Maxine Sanders appeared, almost out of nowhere. She was dressed in a long white gown; her blond hair flowed down past her waist. She looked even more beautiful than any of the pictures I had seen of her. “What's the matter?” asked Maxine.

“She won't do it,” said the woman in black, pointing at me.

I repeated my arguments to Maxine who told me, “None of the other women have shown up.”

Soon several things became clear. The circle-to-be was Maxine's training coven and, within their tradition, first-degree initiations took place in this training group. The priestess of the training group had apparently left after a tantrum over some minor matter. Jane, myself, and six or seven men remained. Jane, by the way, was still standing bound and blindfolded while this explanation was going on. I still refused. Maxine accepted this and said they would make do without a priestess.

One strange event superseded another. For a few moments after we entered the room where the circle was to be held there didn't seem to be an available priest for this training group either, until Maxine threw a small fit. “What kind of Witches do we have here?” she shouted at the seven men in the room. “Why is it always the same person who volunteers?” Finally, someone put his hand up, and everything could begin.

Finally the circle was cast and the ritual was begun. Maxine Sanders listened from outside, on the other side of the room. Power was raised through dancing and chanting: “Eko, eko Azarak, Eko, eko Zamilak, Eko, eko Karnayna, Eko, eko Aradia.”

The circle was fairly monotonous. The energy level seemed low, as one might imagine after the disputes. Lines were read and chants chanted without much feeling. If I hadn't still been in a state of shock, I would have been slightly bored.

Then Jane was led through the initiation ceremony. She was consecrated in the names of the God and the Goddess of the tradition: Karnayna and Aradia. She was asked if she wanted to go through with it. She did. She was welcomed with the passwords, “Perfect love and perfect trust.” She was ceremonially scourged. She was given an oath. She was anointed with water and wine. She was presented each of the circle tools and welcomed into the coven. The details of this ritual can be found in Stewart Farrar's book.

At the end of the ritual everyone dressed and convened at the local pub, which seemed a much livelier place than the circle. But there was Jane, dressed once more, and her eyes positively glowing in that peculiar and extraordinary way that betokens—as sure as anything—a powerful experience inside oneself, an experience that may have begun a process of great change in her life.

And so we come to the peculiar fact that even if Sanders's story is bogus, even if there was no priestess to cast the circle, even if all the “traditions” were violated, even if untalented students botched the event, still Jane may have gone through a true rebirth.

Many in the Craft have come to see initiation as an inner process. Leo Martello, writing in the
WICA Newsletter,
notes that whereas European traditions say, “A Witch is born, not made,” Anglo-American covens say, “A Witch is made, not born.” Martello has often observed that a valid initiation depends more on the one receiving it than on the initiator.
³
And New York City Craft priest Myrdden wrote:

And Craft priest Phoenix made a similar observation:

How do modern Witches define themselves?

Since the Craft is decentralized and each coven is autonomous, no single definition applies to all Wiccans. In the United States most attempts to create a common set of principles and definitions have met with failure, with the exception of adherence to “the Wiccan Rede.” Most of those who join the Wicca do so, in part, because of its implicit autonomy—“It is religion without the ‘middleman,' ” to repeat the words of one Craft priest. Despite this, there have been several attempts by United States Witches to meet and define this slippery term
Witch.
One early attempt to create an ecumenical definition of modern Wicca that would be acceptable to many traditions began in the fall of 1973 when Llewellyn Publications, the occult publishers, sponsored a meeting of Witches in Minneapolis. Seventy-three Witches from different traditions attended. They formed the Council of American Witches and, during the winter of 1974, began collecting statements of principle from various groups. These were printed in the Council's newsletter,
Touchstone.

Carl Weschcke, publisher of Llewellyn, wrote in
Touchstone
that many Witches felt that a common definition was necessary as a “self-policing” mechanism “to protect ourselves from misunderstanding brought about by those whose personal power trips have exposed all of us to ridicule and injury.”
⁶
It was also felt that a common statement would help dispel the sensationalist image pushed in the media, which continued to link Wicca with satanism.

It turned out that there were many differences among Wiccan groups, a few of them conflicting. Here are some of the answers to the question, “What is a Witch?”

 

A Witch
above all
worships the Triple Goddess and her Consort, The Horned God, in one form or another. A Witch works Magick within a definite code of ethics. A Witch acknowledges and uses the male-female polarity in his/her rites. A Witch takes
total
responsibility for her actions, herself, and her future.

—NROOGD (New Reformed Orthodox Order of the Golden Dawn)

 

—COVEN OF GWYNVYD, St. Louis, Missouri

 

—SCHOOL OF WICCA

 

—LADY CYBELE

 

 

 

Some Witches refused even to take part in this process of defining the Craft, feeling that a common statement of principles implied an unacceptable degree of centralization. One Witch wrote to
Touchstone:

Other conflicts arose between people bound by strict oaths of secrecy and others who wished to share their information openly. Some felt that little should be “secret” except for the names used for deities and initiation rituals, so that their psychological impact would not be lost. Another problem was “validity.” Many felt that initiation was an internal process and that one could receive a valid initiation in a dream or vision, or even at the hands of frauds. Others felt that only certain traditions were “valid.”

The groups were closest on ethics. All agreed with the basic Wiccan Creed—“An ye harm none, do what ye will.” Most affirmed Aleister Crowley's famous statement: “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Love is the law, love under will.” Most agreed that it was unethical to “forcefully violate a person's autonomy.” Most affirmed the divinity of all living beings. NROOGD's statement was the strongest.

The Council of American Witches, meeting April 11–14, 1974, in Minneapolis, finally did hammer out a statement of principles: