The Magical Messiah

I am prompted to make my thoughts clear on this topic by a recent discussion, in which several people asserted that suffering could be, of itself, “good”.

I could not disagree with this point any more if I denied the very experience of suffering. The justification generally given is that suffering often acts as the impetus for efforts of self-development. This is true, certainly; any self-examination in an adult will prove it out in one’s own personal history. However, let us not make a mistake in logic! To say that we can bring something good out of suffering is not the same as saying that suffering itself is inherently good.

Consider an analogy: a camper is incautious and does not put out his fire before moving on. The fire spreads and rages, destroying acres and acres of forest, spreading across fields of dry grass and into areas populated by humans. Several people, not to mention the numerous animals and incredible numbers of trees, lose their lives, and thousands or millions of dollars in property damage on top of it all. But the burnt remnants of trees and plants fertilize the soil, allowing for the regrowth of the forest even more lush than before. And the fields that were burned now make for excellent farmland. So some benefit did come from it, in the long run! But was the fire, or the carelessness which caused it, or the drought conditions which allowed it to spread, or all of the death and destruction, good of itself? It would be a callous and unreflective soul who would answer in the affirmative.

It has been said that pain is inevitable, but suffering is a choice. This is true, insofar as pain is merely a physiological and/or emotional reaction to some stimulus, while suffering is the result of consciousness of that pain. In other words, pain is just something that “happens to” you, while suffering is something that you “do with” pain. A fish never asks, “Why me?!” And that, conscious awareness, is the key to the whole question.

The degree to which any given individual possesses the capacity for self-reflection is also the degree to which that individual may suffer. The more questions the individual can ask, the more he may suffer. But that does not reflect an inherent property of suffering as much as an inherent property of awareness. It is as the Buddha said: it is Mind that makes a heaven out of hell and a hell out of heaven. Suffering is, of itself, morally neutral. Causing suffering, however, is morally reprehensible. If suffering were inherently good, causing it would also be good, which would lead us into a moral and ethical black hole.

Now, it is also awareness, mind, Νους, which is capable of bringing good out of evil. In our present case, it is conscious reflection which may extract a lesson from the suffering. If I am not paying attention in the kitchen and I put my hand onto a hot stove, I will feel pain, and I will probably suffer by looking at my burn, thinking about how much it hurts, and asking how I could have been so stupid, but only if I take just a moment to consider just how, really, I could have been so stupid, can I learn how not to repeat it. Does that make the burn, or the fact of my consciousness of the pain, beneficial? No, but I might be smart enough to extract some small nugget of knowledge out of those things and avoid making the same mistake twice.

On a higher plane of thought, suffering as both experience and concept, in the broad scope of its reality, provides even more food for thought. I can begin to ask the questions, “Why does suffering exist?”, “Why do innocents suffer?”, and so forth. But the good which comes from this process is not the doing of suffering, but of my reflective and active mind. That is the good in the equation of suffering. Just as a hammer can be both a weapon and a tool, we each have some capacity to use our minds to create, preserve, and carry on cycles of suffering, or we can use them to alleviate and prevent suffering. The more we grow, the more we learn to direct our minds according to our higher will, the more good we can extract and unfold from the suffering which makes up so much of this world. We may learn to outsmart the devil and take from him his power, but that doesn’t make the devil our friend!

Gnosis! Gnosis! We cry out for thy gnosis, O Sige! Silent art thou, thou Void before all things, even before the aeons themselves. Thou Mother of Spirit, before whose creative Kosmos mere kaos is less than dust, we pray unto thee to receive thine supernal gnosis. Holy! Holy! Holy! Sige!

Gnosis! Gnosis! We pray thee thy gnosis, O Charis! Thou art compassionate, the Mother of Love, to whom we pray. In the inmost heart of thine aeon do we seek all miracles, in thy darkly resplendent treasure trove do we seek the true gold of Heaven. Rain down on thy children the healing which resides in the comfort of thy embracing wings, that gnosis which makes all things whole. Holy! Holy! Holy! Charis!

Gnosis! Gnosis! We ask thee thy gnosis, O Sophia! Thou tender Soul of the Fullness in whom was Life then death, and is Life once again, let us glimpse in thee the Redeemer in whose Sacred Heart we are made safe. For we know the thrust-and-stab of homelessness, the screaming desolation of matter apart from thee, even the shattered madness of psyche in which the Light shines not, and we trust in thy perfect sympathy that Incorruptibility descends to claim our incorruptibility by thy refulgent gnosis. Holy! Holy! Holy! Sophia!

If a generation were given the diplomatic task of postponing any action in such a way as to make it seem as if something were just about to happen, then we should have to admit that our age had performed as remarkable a feat as the revolutionary age. (The Present Age by Søren Kierkegaard)

I don’t generally discuss politics here, and there is a very good reason for that. The purpose of this blog, successful or not, is to explore topics significantly deeper and more essential than politics. Political arguments of the past few years have taken quite the religious turn, though, and with some of the most popular mainstream political commentators being also religious commentators, I feel the need to make a few comments of my own, though my audience will certainly never equal theirs in number.

In the same essay from which the opening quotation has been extracted, Kierkegaard had the following to say:

A revolutionary age is an age of action; ours is the age of advertisement and publicity. Nothing ever happens but there is immediate publicity everywhere. In the present age a rebellion is, of all things, the most unthinkable. Such an expression of strength would seem ridiculous to the calculating intelligence of our times.

Writing in 1846, Kierkegaard couldn’t have been more wrong about his own age, given the bloody rebellions across Western Europe only two years later. Still, more apt words could not be written for America here at the end of the first decade of the 21st century. (Of course, Kierkegaard and I both can only write about what we have so far witnessed, making inductive projections into the future, so I can’t be too critical of Søren’s observations.) There is perhaps no area of our lives in which this is more true than in the political arena. We do not have far to look in order to see politicians and pundits making grandiose claims, compiling massive plans, and organizing sparkling rallies, but really to what end? Our eyes are dazzled, our ears left ringing, our brains confounded, our souls enlarged by the promises of HOPE and CHANGE, and declarations that “America today begins to turn back to God.” Where, then, is the hope? It seems to have died, because the change surely hasn’t made itself known. The fact is that the one needed to fuel the other, which would have then fed back into the first, and so on, but of course there was never any real chance for that to happen. Call it indolence.

Kierkegaard continues:

On the other hand a political virtuoso might bring off a feat almost as remarkable. He might write a manifesto suggesting a general assembly at which people should decide upon a rebellion, and it would be so carefully worded that even the censor would let it pass. At the meeting itself he would be able to create the impression that his audience had rebelled, after which they would all go quietly home—having spent a very pleasant evening.

Does this sound familiar? I can recall the excitement of Obama’s rallies, the enthusiasm of going to the polls to elect him, and the resulting ecstasies (perhaps “seizures”) upon the announcement of Obama’s election. And what happened immediately after? Immediately after sex, the warm, relaxed, “fuzzy” sensation which washes through the bodies of many men and women can serve to bring us closer together as individuals, or it can serve to make us lazy. Immediately after a “revolutionary” election, the warm, relaxed, fuzzy sensation which washes over us can serve to enliven us for our mission, or it can serve to put us to sleep. So much for the afterglow!

But the present generation, wearied by its chimerical efforts, relapses into complete indolence. Its condition is that of a man who has only fallen asleep towards morning: first of all come great dreams, then a feeling of laziness, and finally a witty or clever excuse for remaining in bed.

Now, I am not blaming President Barack Obama for this state of affairs; I am merely saying that he, like most politicians, took full advantage of it. I do not know if he and his speech-writers and aides did so on purpose, but it is rather bad in any case. Either our President did not understand the very forces and trends which brought him to power, or he did know and took advantage of the combined boredom, anxiety, and laziness of the American people. And Obama is certainly not the only politician to have taken such advantage! Look at the “anger” of the Tea Party movement, and you will see many politicians riding the coattails of that hollow sensationalism. Whether we dress it up as HOPE or RAGE, we are dealing with the same SUBSTANCE, in truth no substance at all.

Equally unthinkable among the young men of today is a truly religious renunciation of the world, adhered to with daily self-denial. On the other hand almost any theological student is capable of something far more wonderful. He could found a society with the sole object of saving all those who are lost. The age of great and good actions is past, the present is the age of anticipation when even recognition is received in advance.

Golden Age romanticism aside, Kierkegaard’s point here is clear, if stated somewhat sarcastically: it is easy, now, to found a society, what we today might call a “special interest group”, for anything at all, but nothing ever changes. The answer to this, which Kierkegaard also says in the same essay, is simply that such societies are worthless, without substance, unless they are made up exclusively of substantive individuals. In other words, as the old trope goes, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. When we are dealing with a “chain” as large as a social movement, a political party, or a nation, how many weak links must there be, and how weak must the weakest ones be?

And what of Glenn Beck and his ilk? It is common to place Obama, and those like him, at one end of the American political scale, and Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, Rush Limbaugh, and so on, on the opposite end. But is this accurate? It depends, I suppose, on the metric. As far as how much good they do, we could safely place them both firmly in the “negative influence” side of the slider-bar. Are they evil people? Almost certainly no; evil is an extremely strong term, and I hesitate to apply it to flawed human beings, likely no better and certainly no worse than myself. Though likely not “evil”, there is a rather terrifying political messianism surrounding and vivifying both camps. Beck has gone so far as to actually place himself in the role of prophet, a role which traditionally is not assumed but rather imposed; we must always be careful of those who are glad to be God’s mouthpieces!

And so the whole thing comes down to one essential: American society has no essence. It is empty but unwilling to be filled. What can we do? I cannot answer for everybody, but my own intention is to work upon myself, rather to allow God to work within me; if only substantive individuals are of value for creating positive change, if only such individuals can profitably create and join organizations, we must become substantive individuals! Take Kierkegaard’s advice or no, but his vision for becoming such a one was simply

behold, all is in readiness, see how the cruelty of abstraction makes the true form of worldliness only too evident the abyss of eternity opens before you, the sharp scythe of the leveller makes it possible for every one individually to leap over the blade—and behold, it is God who waits. Leap, then, into the arms of God’.

(All quotations from The Present Age: On the Death of Rebellion by Søren Kierkegaard, translated by Alexander Dru, with an introduction by Walter Kaufman, 2010, Harper Perennial Modern Thought paperback edition.)

[Another excerpt from the upcoming book. I promise, there will be original content again soon!]

There is a purpose for structured ritual, and it is not just for the sake of pomp and circumstance. There is a pervasive misunderstanding that ritual has no place in “real magic” or “real religion”, both of which ought to “just come naturally”. It is said that we should just be able to do what “feels right” and let the details attend to themselves. While there is a place for spontaneity in magic, it is rarely appropriate or useful in the core of any given operation.

Magic is based upon certain specific laws, principles by which the universe works from the mental plane on down to the physical, and just as in engineering on the physical plane, we must follow certain formulae in order to take full advantage of those laws. Ignorance of those laws does not abrogate them; if we do not know of gravity, we will still find that we fall down when we trip. Likewise, arrogance will not circumvent the laws; if we defy gravity by throwing ourselves over a cliff, we will suffer the consequences. Granted, most impacts with the laws of magic will not result in such dramatic bone-shattering, but the illustration can be taken further in demonstration of the point. We may play one law against another, such as the laws of aerodynamics or the laws of tensile strength, to find ways around our predicament. Airplanes and suspension bridges are solid examples.

Likewise in magic, failure to observe the laws equals failure to produce results. If we do whatever we feel like in an attempt at producing magical effects, we may occasionally blunder into appropriate uses of law, but we will lose much in the way of efficiency. I, as a layman, may be able to construct a simple bridge out of available materials in order to cross a creek by foot; I may even, with a bit of planning, be able to produce a bridge strong enough to support a heavy car or truck. I will not, however, be able to produce a truss bridge by which a whole line of heavily-laden trucks and 18-wheelers may cross a river or ravine until I spend time studying the appropriate type of engineering, including the materials used and the mathematics involved. In addition, I will have to experiment many times in order to learn precisely how those various elements may be applied, and how to configure them to best effect under different circumstances. Magic is the same way. If we do not study the laws, and the various ways in which we may apply them, we can only get so far.

This is ultimately the difference between a sorcerer and a magician. Sorcery is the blind blundering about. A sorcerer may learn a few formulae for specific circumstances, but until he understands the laws behind those formulae, they will be only situationally useful; a true magician learns first rudimentary formulae, and studies the ways in which those formulae interact with the applicable laws, and builds upon this foundation through further study and practice. This is the way in which all true magic must be learned, whether natural magic or ritual magic. A natural magician begins by learning some basic spells, how to compile the appropriate materials, and perhaps some safe substitutions if all of the materials are not available. Those spells are studied inside and out, picked apart and put back together again, until the trainee understands what each ingredient does alone, and how they interact with one another. This process will eventually open the trainee up to the possibilities inherent in the law of correspondence, which makes further experimentation possible. Similarly, a ritual magician will begin by learning the foundational ritual of her teacher’s system. This ritual will usually begin, or intensify, a long process of inner transmutation and unfoldment which will compound and increase with practice. Just as with natural magic, there are steps involved in the learning process.

The first step is that of studying the ritual thoroughly. This involves first analyzing all of the elements of the ritual, including motions, drawing of lines of force, symbolism, sigils and figures, Names of God, words of power, invocations and incantations, and so on. The student will certainly not be able to understand every layer of the ritual from the first, but if this preliminary study is not conducted, usually lasting a week to a month, including research and contemplation, there will be little hope of a full success and advancement. Without this phase, the ritual will remain only so many words.

The next step involves rehearsal. The ritual need not be memorized start to finish, at first, but it is important to run through the physical aspect of it a few times, at least three, before the first true performance, so that the movements may perform their necessary function rather than merely serve as distractions from the inner side of the effort. This is the part which, if skipped, has the effect of leaving the ritual a halting mess of physical motions.

Finally comes the actual performance, putting the pieces together into an operative ritual. The first performance will usually not be the most powerful one, but it will be far and away more intense than if the first two steps had been skipped. If those phases are skipped, it is possible that, over many months or even years of consistent practice, the performance of the ritual will eventually develop the effects of the first two phases, but it is not likely, and that method lacks efficiency. In fact, failure to follow this scheme, or failure of the teacher to present it in full, has resulted in more aborted or significantly retarded magical training than perhaps any other single factor. It is also important, following this scheme, that only once the core ritual formulae have become well integrated into the trainee’s life, through consistent and disciplined study and practice, the student will be permitted to move on to further ritual work within the system. At this time, the individual will be able to see how the formulae of this first ritual expand outward into other rituals of limitless applications.

When we first begin to study a ritual, and when we finally perform it, we must look deeply into the many elements of it. These elements are manifold. A partial list of the more common and vital such components includes: projection of force, lines of force, sigils & figures, conscious movement, incantations, words of power & Names of God (two distinct components which we can, nevertheless, count as one for the sake of this basic discussion), and ritual tools. We will examine each one, in basic terms, in turn.

Projection of force and lines of force are closely related, the second depending upon the first. The projection of force is simply the capacity for directing the invoked energy wherever it is required within the ritual. This is often an entire area of training within a complete system, though only a rudimentary familiarity with its methods are required for beginning ritual work. The common methods are through visualization, and through kinesthetic imagination, or “imaginary feeling”. I find that combining the two is ideal, so that the student can learn to simultaneously feel the energy as it moves, and create channels into and through which it may move by way of strong visual concentration. Elemental fire alone may create effects if directed properly, but when directed into the lines of a crimson red upward-pointed equilateral triangle, the fire is stabilized and will even attract more elemental fire to itself, building and intensifying over the course of the ritual. The tracing out of such energy circuits in forms appropriate to the energy being worked and the purpose to which it will be put is known as the tracing or drawing of the lines of force. These visualized and physically traced lines actually behave like wires to electricity, providing a path of least resistance for the energy in question to take on the form required of it.

This takes us to the drawing of figures. These are very specialized lines of force which serve specifically to invoke more specific forces, or more specific forms of a given type of force. Some figures, which are often called sigils or seals, perform the function of gateways or conductors for conscious forces which we often term spirits. This can include archangels, angels, nature spirits, demons, and even the shades of the dead, depending upon the sigil, the force with which the sigil is traced, and the intent of the ritual. The red triangle mentioned above is an example of a figure, specific to elemental fire, while an angelic signature extracted from the appropriate planetary kamea would exemplify the sigils and seals. Before moving on, I must mention that archangels and angels cannot be summoned or have their energy drawn from without their consent, but the sigils and seals can serve as requests for their aid in the form of very particularized force.

Though not explicitly mentioned in a lot of training systems, conscious movement is essential to the full effect of ritual magic. Conscious movement, simply, is the process of conducting each movement in the ritual, including the drawing of lines of force, circumambulation, symbolic salutes, and such, not only physically, but also astrally and mentally. That is to say, the magician must be able to concentrate upon the action of all three of his bodies during each and every phase of the ritual. For example, while drawing the triangle above, the magician must be aware first of the physical tracing, the astral action of projecting force and the attendant emotion, and the mental motion of concentration upon the purpose of the particular force and the shape in which it is being formed. These are all movements upon their own proper plane, and are all important to the effective completion of the ritual.

Incantations must also be done consciously, in the same manner. Their effect is layered. First of all, the sonorous chanting, melodic singing, or dramatic recitation of the words will, on its own, produce very real changes in the atmosphere of the ritual area. The sound of an impassioned human voice sets off physiological changes in a person’s nervous system, including the individual making the incantation as well as any participants and assistants. Similarly, the emotion put into the words creates perturbations within the astral matter in the vicinity, making the flow of certain forces easier, and the flow of others more difficult, depending upon the emotional content of the words. Lastly, on the mental plane, the meaning of the words themselves is translated into a corresponding shift in the atmosphere in the uppermost reaches of creation. Of course, the process actually works in reverse order, beginning with the mental interpretation of the words and moving down to the psychic component, finally manifesting as the physical sound vibration and physiological shift, but we tend to be so materially focused that we become aware of things from the ground up, as it were; as such, the conscious use of incantations will tend to exalt the magician’s awareness from the physical to the mental.

Words of power are closely related to incantations, and are often included in them. Their action is even similar. Words of power, however, have much more specialized and precise functions. Very often, they seem like gibberish upon first glance, but are in fact constructed out of letters or syllables (depending usually upon the structure of the foundational language) according to specific rules. Even the ones that do not seem like gibberish, for instance the titles of the Angelic Hosts, are constructed according to formulaic rules. Let us take as an example the Angelic Host of the third sephirah, Binah, who are known as the Aralim. In Hebrew, this would be spelled אראלים (ARALIM). The first syllable, composed as it is of Aleph-Resh-Aleph, represents the solar power in its gentlest aspect, its energy carried in elemental air. This syllable may be seen as shorthand for the phrase from the Emerald Tablet, “The father thereof is the sun […] the wind carried it in its womb[.]” In short, it refers to the whirling of creative force. The second syllable is composed of Lamed-Yod-Mem, which points to a balanced descent into materiality. “Lamed” translates to “ox-goad”, and represents the putting into effect of authority, while it corresponds to the sign of Libra, representing the balancing authority of karmic law on the psychic plane. “Yod” is a hand, and corresponds to Virgo, the mutable earth sign, while “Mem” means water and points to the lower astral, etheric, and physical levels of creation. Now, the word “Aralim” itself translates as “Thrones”. All of the above symbolism combines to form a picture of Divine Authority manifesting creatively. So, when we intone “Aralim” within a ritual, we are calling that very influence, in the form of the Angelic Choir so named, into effect by allowing it to channel down through our mental, psychic, and finally physical bodies. The names of archangels, and of most spirits, are of similar composition and purpose. This is not to say that those angelic choirs or individual spirits do not exist, but because they are not as constrained by space as we ourselves are, they tend to manifest as pure forces unless we provide them with telesmatic (visualized) bodies.

Divine Names, or Names of God, work in a similar fashion, although they of course deal with forces flowing directly from Heaven. These Names are more properly titles, each of which points toward a certain type of Divine Force, Energy, or Influence upon creation. We will take as our example the simplest, yet most profound: Eheieh (אהיה). This Name means, simply, “I Become”. It is the very kernel of creation and of God’s relationship with creation, which makes it the perfect Divine Name to relate to the first sephirah, Kether. We can also analyze its letters in the same way we did with the Aralim. Aleph is again elemental air, and also the whirling rush of creative power. “Hé” means “a window”, while “Yod” is once again both Virgo (mutable earth) and the initial point of creation. All of these symbols point to creative power flowing forth from Heaven, through the cracks in our reality, and into creation. And, in fact, that is the very energy of this Name.

Finally, there are magical tools. These are perhaps the most maligned aspect of ritual magic, and yet one of the most genuinely and immediately useful. Each system of ritual magic has its own set, though some are common among multiple systems. For example, we may examine the four elemental tools found in most systems which have grown out of Hermetism. These are the fire wand, the air dagger, the water cup, and the earth disk. The usual criticism is that we can channel these forces without the use of physical tools, so why bother with them? That is technically true, however when a ritual tool used to channel one specific type of energy is properly constructed and prepared by a ritual of consecration for that one task, the efficiency of the task goes up enormously. A well-made fire wand, having been imbued with its task by the appropriate formulae, will accomplish the task of directing a line of elemental fire with much greater intensity than the ritualist’s own index finger. It is true that we must learn how to move these forces with only our own bodies, but if we can do so with greater efficiency and power with a tool, why would we not take advantage of the opportunity outside of an emergency? It has wisely been observed that it is only with long years of practice that the formulae of the ritual tools become internalized thoroughly enough for us to accomplish the same tasks as easily without them, and this only as we approach true adeptship.

A big part of the problem encountered with ritual tools stems from the fact that most people equate efficiency with multitasking. In magic, however, efficiency is better defined by the ratio of expended or directed energy to the result achieved. From that perspective, it is better to have a large variety of very specialized tools, whereas most would-be magicians think that they can cut down on a lot of “clutter” by using only a few generalized ones. Thus, many use their dagger to both direct air (or fire, in some traditions), and to direct any other forces required. This was done in an attempt at simplifying the older Hermetic tradition of using the four elemental tools derived from the Tarot suits, as listed above, as well as a separate dagger for the directing of the simpler vital energy used for many more general ritual tasks. It is also common in many schools of the Hermetic tradition to construct and consecrate multiple wands of different materials and forms for the directing of specific forces, one for fire, one for the electric fluid, one for pure Will, and so on. Likewise, a dagger for air would be used alongside a sword for the projection of the magician’s own divinely-granted authority. Even the clothing worn during rituals count as tools, from the white robe of purity to the hat or headband of correspondence between macrocosm and microcosm, from the girdle of strength to the pentacle of balance and power, each has a purpose to fulfill and an energetic function which can only be dispensed with gradually, over years or decades. Some magicians never dispense with them, if they have the space and time to use them, simply because properly prepared ritual tools always take some of the burden off of the shoulders of a very busy ritualist. Even adepti will usually have a store of tools at their disposal in order to make their jobs easier.

This has just been a brief survey of the many facets of a ritual system, and why they exist as they do. It is important that we remember that magic is not simply ritualized psychology, but is instead the technology of the superphysical planes. We may perform some tasks with nothing but our bare hands, so to speak, but the appropriate tools, used wisely, can help us in producing effects far beyond our naked capabilities with much less time and effort.

[Excerpted from an upcoming book on Christian Hermetism.]

There are many understandings, and misunderstandings, of the myth of the Fall of Sophia, and of the Demiurge. Many Gnostic Christians assert that at least the common outline of the story must be taken literally, while many others prefer a largely symbolic view. Based on my own gnosis, I take an archetypal perspective, one which cuts across the simplistic boundaries of literalism and symbolism and provides us with guidance for our own spiritual well-being. This is not an uncommon approach; I am far from special in this. However, I wish to emphasize that it is by my own personal gnosis that I have come to this view, so any errors herein are my own and any truth is that of God.

First, let us reiterate the framework of the story, a framework which seems common to most tellings of the Sophia myth, from the various Christian gnostic traditions to Jewish Lurianic Kabbalah. At core, we have it thus: Sophia, as the “lowest” or “outermost” of the Divine emanations (or aeons, in Greek) was tasked with performing the act of creation. That is, the Father imbued her with his creative force (Logos), and Sophia, for her part, veritably gave birth to the created universe (from the mental plane down to the physical). Somehow, she became wrapped (rapt) in her creation, forgetting to some extent where she had come from and what she was supposed to be doing, and so rays or sparks of the Divine Light fractured from her and became conscious entities of their own: the spirits of gods, humans and animals alike, and whatever other conscious beings there ever where, are now, or ever will be, insofar as they are spirits. This did not all happen at once, as we shall see, for some of these beings were created on purpose for specific tasks, once Sophia regained herself somewhat.

The common Christian forms of the story add here that the greatest of the creations, whether accidental or simply botched in-process, was a being commonly referred to as the Demiurge, or lesser craftsman. He is sometimes given a name, Ialdabaoth and Samael being frequent examples, but in any case, the Demiurge took over the job of shaping the astral and physical planes. It is even possible to say that the Demiurge is the astral plane, or at least the consciousness of the astral plane, for it is from the astral layer that the patterns and forms of physical creation are formed and projected downward.

Now, with that specific element, we run into the primary argument between Gnostic Christianity and Hermeticism: is the Demiurge twisted and evil, as many Christians would have it, or is he simply imperfect, but performing an important task or job to the best of his ability, as the Hermetists say? What is his nature?

Here, we must make an aside to human beings. Regardless of the purpose for which we were created, we can know from experience that each of us is, ultimately, a spirit which wears as garments a mind, a soul, and a physical body. Most of us, however, are firmly entrenched in what we may jointly refer to as our ego, composed generally of the physical body, the soul, and perhaps the lowest regions of the mind. The ego, it has been said, is that in us which claims most loudly the holy “I am”, but which deserves it least. This is not to say that the ego is essentially evil. On the contrary, awareness of the body, the astral soul (or personality), and even the lower portions of mind, are important for our functioning in this world and the next. The problem is not with them as they ought to be, but with the fact that they rarely are what they ought to be. We are trapped in a state of ignorance, believing as we often do that this world is all that there is, or at least all that we can experience right now. This belief system is truly sinful, not because we must ignore this world, but because we must serve in this world for a higher purpose, a purpose connected intimately with awareness of ourselves as spirits.

We may speak here of involution and evolution. Involution is the process by which anything becomes physical. It begins as a spiritual ideal, which is then clothed in a mental archetype, which filters into an astral form, which creates an etheric pattern, ultimately manifesting as an individualized physical being, object, or substance. This is not an evil process! It is merely the first half of a rhythmic cycle. The problem is that the descent into matter is a confounding one, which often leaves any conscious beings going through it in a state of confusion. The first things that they sense are their own physical bodies, and the small piece of the physical world immediately surrounding them. If, from there, the developing life-form is not instructed, gently but rigorously, in the truth of their existence, it is almost impossible not to be fooled into believing in what is immediately before it above anything else.

That is the process we each go through. But it is only the beginning. We are each destined also for evolution, which is the continuing process by which we develop our individualities, strengthen them, become wise, and rise back to our Home in the Fullness of Heaven. This process of individuation, far from being one of jettisoning our egos entirely, is instead one of purifying and even spiritualizing mind and soul, until they are no longer mere clothes for the spirit but fully integrated organs or limbs of it. We do not seek to “kill our egos”, a popular phrase in the New Age movement, but instead to consciously transcend them so that, from the perspectives of our clear minds, we may see how best to live in and through our souls and bodies.

“That which is above is like to that which is below, and that which is below is like to that which is above,” and so it is with matters of spiritual awakening, that process which we call evolution. Just as we ourselves have become confused in the world of matter, forgetting our Home and our purpose, so too has the universe itself become confused by the process of involution. Just as the universe is an organism of infinitely greater scale than we, so is its process of involution and evolution on an infinitely greater scale.

The universe’s transcendent spirit is none other than the Divine Sophia, who was asleep within her creation for so long until Jesus, the Christ of God, came into the world to restore her to her Heavenly Throne. Jesus’ mission was on many levels. He came into creation, sacrificing himself in more ways than one before the Cross, before even his birth by the Blessed Mary. He, too, suffered involution, the descent into matter, though he did so in full consciousness so that he could awaken Sophia and rescue us, aiding us in awakening as well, discovering who we truly are in spirit so that we might fulfill our destinies and help he and Sophia in saving the creation.

The Demiurge, then, is Sophia’s ego, her unredeemed soul, her child as truly as our psyches are the children of our true Selves. The Demiurge is not evil, but ignorant, and the Spirit which presides over him is doing everything she can to make him aware of her, to spiritualize him and fully unify with him at last, bringing about the final restoration of the world and the descent of the New Jerusalem whose foundations are already planted in the hearts of all sentient beings.

“There is no ‘black magic’, but rather sorcerers groping in the dark. They grope in the dark because the light of gnosis and mysticism is lacking.” (Meditations on the Tarot, corrected edition 2002 Tarcher/Putnam, pg. 43)

There are many different “traditions” of magic, though they all come down, more or less, to aesthetic differences over practical ones. Certain among these traditions do appear to be more consistently effective than others, but I’ll get to that. Given the preceding, I’m going to treat magic as a single subject for the purposes of this article, only referring to differences of magical systems when necessary for clarity. It is also important to define my parameters right from the start. Under the heading of magic, I include divination and psychism (psychic powers). Divination is simply the use of magical techniques to gain information, while psychic powers are magical powers usually distinguished by their untrained use. Within these categories are also included most New Age and New Thought practices.

“Psychic” means “pertaining to the soul”, from the Greek “psyche”. Let us briefly explore mystical psychology (study, or logic, of the soul) before moving on to the implications of such on magic. Each human being is composed of their physical body, their soul (personality, astral body) and mind (mental body). Nearly every mystical and religious tradition worldwide will agree on this scheme, or one very much like it. Some divide these three “bodies” yet further, while some consider the soul and mind to be two facets of a single entity. It doesn’t matter if these divisions are taken literally or not; while we are alive, there are no hard and fast divisions here, anyway. What is important is that we recognize these three levels of our living awareness: physical, emotional/personal, and mental.

There is still a subtler layer, though: Spirit. In much of Western esoteric thought, mind and spirit are often conflated with one another. Even the great Franz Bardon used the terms almost interchangeably (although with an often unnoticed subtlety that belies his acute awareness of the differences). The cause of the conflation is that most people will go through their whole lives with only a handful of truly, consciously, spiritual experiences. Under those conditions, experiences of the spirit seem to be explainable as simple overload of the mind-brain. This is not entirely untrue; the way we consciously learn to reach for spiritual experiences does involve a lot of mental game-playing (concentration) at first. Eventually, according to the masters, the games become unnecessary as mind melts into Spirit and becomes identified with It.

So what is Spirit? Without going too far with my words, Spirit is God. In Buddhism, Spirit and Nirvana are identical. In Judaism, Spirit may be called Ain Soph. In Hinduism, Spirit is the Atman which is Brahman, the Unknowable and Uncreated. For a Christian, we are talking about God’s Holy Spirit by which we attain to Union in Love with God the Father. Our bodies, souls and minds are of God, as we are each of our human parents, but our Spirit is that in us which is God. I cannot say “my spirit”, but only “Spirit”. Without Spirit, that which identifies itself as “Nicholas Graham” simply wouldn’t be. Spirit is the breath-of-God in which we live, move, and have our being.

All of that being said, we can move on to the relevance of this to an exploration of magic.

Magic is not, cannot be, a spiritual practice. It is mental and psychic primarily, and physical secondarily, but not spiritual. It is by virtue of Spirit that magic works at all, but that is true of everything, so magic is not uniquely “spiritual”. Magic itself cannot help us in drawing closer to Spirit, in the process of identifying mind with Spirit.

In fact, this is the very source of the prohibitions in most traditional religions against the practice of magic: it is not that magic is evil, so much as it is a distraction from higher pursuits. In both Christianity and Judaism, at least as far as the Scriptures are concerned, there is no prohibition against the practice of magic. The Bible only prohibits the use of specific methods of enslaving the souls of the dead (oboth and yideonim) in the Old Testament, and in the New Testament it prohibits poisoning with herbs (pharmakoi). In most English Bibles, all of these terms are translated “magic”, “sorcery”, “witchcraft”, “witch”, “wizard”, and the like, but none of those words actually mean “magic” or anything of the sort.

There is nothing inherently wrong with using magic to change the world in which we live, though any use of magic to attack or manipulate another living being is as unlawful as any other means of doing the same, with the added sin of doing so dishonorably, “behind the scenes” as it were. It is without question that using magic to help people with their problems is a good act, insofar as that aid actually removes barriers between them and God.

There is also the question of the various traditions of so-called “ritual magic”. The practitioners of these traditions typically make great spiritual claims about them, citing dramatic visions and meeting with all manner of metaphysical entities. I do not doubt that many ritual magicians do achieve these visions. I have plenty of personal experience in this realm, myself. I also do not doubt the life-changing nature of the experiences involved. They, at the very least, provide experiential confirmation that the physical world is not all that there is. Still, these things are not “spiritual” insofar as they do not have anything to do with Spirit. They are experiences of the mind and soul. The masters and saints of all traditions, as well as the personal experiences of many seekers through the ages, reveal to us the fact that pure spiritual experience is without any sensory input from within or without. “For silence is the sign of real contact with the spiritual world and this contact, in turn, always engenders the influx of forces.” (Meditations on the Tarot, pg. 11)

There is one category of practice often related to magic which is genuinely spiritual, insofar as it leads to spiritual experience. This is known as theurgy. “Theurgy” means “God work”; that is, the theurgist seeks to make of herself a conscious and willing “instrument of God’s peace”. “The magus in sacred magic plays the role of the last link in the magical chain which descends from above, i.e. in order to serve as the terrestrial point of contact and point of concentration for the operation conceived, willed and put into action from above.” (Meditations on the Tarot, pg. 57)

I will not go into theurgy more deeply than this for now, except to say that theurgy can outwardly resemble magical rituals in many ways, including the use of ritual gestures, physical tools, incense, and the like, but the inner processes differ greatly and more closely resemble contemplative prayer. Theurgy is also sometimes known as “sacred magic” or “divine magic”. It is only magic at all insofar as theurgy may sometimes be used to effect a change in the mental, astral or physical worlds.

In theurgy, we do find the whole of the ethic of magic:

This is the aim of sacred magic; it is nothing other than to give the freedom to see, to hear, to walk, to live, to follow an ideal and to be truly oneself—i.e. to give sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, the ability to walk to the lame, life to the dead, good news or ideals to the poor and free will to those who are possessed by evil spirits. It never encroaches upon freedom, the restoration of which is its unique aim. (Meditations on the Tarot, pg. 61)

Even the simplest sorcery will be judged upon this basis: does it enhance or diminish freedom? Does it liberate, or does it enchain?

So there is the crux: magic is itself not spiritual, but it can either aid or hinder the spiritual quest. It can create space in one’s life for Divine things, or it can become a means of abuse like any other. Magic is only lawful insofar as it creates that space and manifests true, perfect love; otherwise, it is the most foolish and vain of pursuits.

Once, long ago, lived a man named Siddhartha, sometimes called Siddhartha Guatama, Shakyamuni Buddha or, simply, the Buddha. Siddhartha was quick as a serpent, and patient as an ox. He was also enlightened.

Siddhartha searched for years to find a method of spiritual practice that would lead directly and safely to enlightenment, a method that would allow anybody who committed themselves to it to lift themselves beyond the reach of suffering even while alive. When he could find no such methods in his whole land, he decided to make of himself a laboratory.

And so he went out into the wilderness and sat under a tree and vowed, saying, “I will not move from this spot until I have achieved the Goal.”

As he sat and meditated, concentrating himself entirely upon the reality of the present moment, Siddhartha was confronted by many visions. Beautiful women danced and stripped before his eyes. Riches fell from the heavens. Gods and demons bowed before him, pledging their eternal service if he would but stand up, then threatening him with inhuman torments if he refused to wiggle a toe. Every possible passion was embodied in front of him. But Siddhartha just sat and smiled. Each vision came and, inevitably, went.

At length, Mara, the king of demons, appeared in person, revealing himself to be behind all of the temptation through which Siddhartha had sat. Even now, with the great Mara himself cajoling, threatening and bribing him, Siddhartha just sat and smiled. Mara realized that he had been bested, but vowed not to let this be the end of the fight, and went on his way. And so Siddhartha became the Buddha, the Awakened One.

But the story does not end there. Siddhartha went on to teach his method to all who would hear him. He taught of patience and wisdom, of compassion and discipline, of a sober way to enjoy life and achieve enlightenment without sacrificing health and sanity. He was known for being patient and wise, compassionate and disciplined. But even he would feel the occasional upwelling of an unhealthy passion, or the budding of an unskillful thought. What he had learned under that tree, though, he applied at those times. He stopped those emotions and thoughts from becoming dangerous and evil words and actions. Whenever they arose within him, no matter how strongly they surged, he would smile and quietly say, “I see you, Mara.” And at that, his mind and soul were stilled and Mara vanished.

Around five hundred years after Siddhartha, but still very long ago, lived a man named Yeshua. Yeshua, known today as Jesus, was a carpenter by trade and a faithful Jew. Yeshua was a brilliant public speaker, an honest teacher, and a true man of God. He was also anointed by God.

Yeshua studied Torah throughout his youth, even interpreting it for the rabbis much older than himself. He knew from a young age that it was his life’s mission to do the will of God. He knew also that his mission involved teaching others how to become anointed themselves and to spread that anointing far and wide. This was his Good News. To begin his mission, Yeshua received a baptism of water to make way for the fiery anointing of God’s Holy Spirit.

And so he went out into the wilderness and sat upon a hill to meditate and pray, and vowed, saying, “I will not move from this spot until I am fully with my Father in Heaven, one with His Will.”

As he sat and meditated, concentrating himself entirely upon the One Reality, Yeshua was confronted by voices and visions. “You are hungry, yes?” he would hear. “Use the power of your Father in Heaven to turn these rocks into bread and you will be sated.” But Yeshua did not budge, calmly responding, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” And so Yeshua saw himself on the pinnacle of the Temple and was told, “Throw yourself down from here to prove that you are God’s son. Surely, your Father will send His angels to save you!” But Yeshua shrugged and said, “You shall not tempt the Lord your God.” Finally, Yeshua was whisked to a high mountain from which he could see far and wide and was told, “All of this I rule, and all of it I will give to you if you will only bow down and worship me.” But Yeshua said, “Get behind me, adversary! You shall only worship the Lord your God, and Him only shall you serve!” And so the tiny god (devil) left Yeshua.

But the story does not end there. Yeshua went on to teach his way of life to all who would hear him. He taught of patience and wisdom, of compassion and discipline, of a sober way to enjoy life and attain to God. He was known for being honest and true, powerful and humble. But even he would have continue run-ins with unskillful thoughts and dangerous passions. When he found them within himself, he honestly examined them and would pray for comfort or the lifting-up of his cup of troubles from off his heart, but always ending his prayer, “But not my will, but Yours be done.” When he found them within others, he would bring their attention to the situation with a shocking, “Get behind me, adversary!” And at that, he would still his own mind and soul, and the minds and souls of those who came to him for teaching, and the tiny god vanished.

Some may have included the philosopher’s egg in Part 2: Preparations for Alchemy, but it is important (and difficult) enough to warrant its own entry.

In laboratories, refineries, and the like, retorts are used for the purpose of distilling a liquid substance, or of extracting one substance from the matrix of another (natural gas from coal, for instance). They are bulbous containers, often of glass, with long tubes leading into them. In laboratory alchemy, the retort used is a single piece glass bulb-and-tube, of which the tube narrows toward the end and curls downward to prevent gases from escaping. If a perfect Hermetic seal is required, the tube stem can be heated up and melted closed.

I have read a lot of books and articles on alchemy which have claimed that this retort is, when applied to the alchemist herself, the human aura. This is only partly true. If we consider the aura to be the final barrier between “self” and “other”, it is part of the philosopher’s egg, but certainly not the entire thing. In fact, the egg is the whole personal self of the alchemist. At least, this is potentially so in everybody, but only a few dedicated practitioners ever realize it to any considerable degree.

I’m sure that most of my readership is familiar with the Magician’s Pyramid, otherwise known as the Four Powers of the Wise: to know, to will, to dare, and to keep silent. In case anybody reading this is not familiar with them, let us explore them briefly.

To know is, as one would expect, the power of knowledge. It is also the power of understanding. In everyday speech, we may not starkly differentiate between those two, but they are not always the same. It is possible, for instance, to know that the United States dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but to have no understanding of the intellectual, emotional and moral meanings and implications of those actions on the part of our government in the name of our citizenry. A fact may easily be known, but it takes study, contemplation and dedication to gain insight and understanding. The power “to know” encompasses both. Thus, it is both analytical and synthetic mentation combined in the form of the reflective mind.

To will is not simply “to want”, but instead to have single-pointed focus on a particular goal. Even the focus of a child wishing for that one specific toy or gadget to be waiting under the Christmas tree is too vague for us to call it “will” in the sense of this power.

To dare is the most straight-forward of them all: All the well-focused ideas in the world are rather useless if we don’t actually enact them, and this requires a degree of courage that can sometimes be dangerous for those of us whose egos are entirely bound up in success. There is always a chance of failure in these things, and if we do not have the daring necessary to push on even through failure, even a small slip-up can turn catastrophic.

To keep silent is the most widely misunderstood and, therefore, neglected of the four powers. It is also the main subject of interest in the construction of the philosopher’s egg. The rest of this article will focus on explaining it in both theory and practice.

First, theory. To be entirely honest, I have yet to encounter a fully satisfying explanation as to why the enactment of this power is so necessary. I don’t think there’s any clear-cut way of explaining it or understanding it intellectually, yet it always works out in practice.

A common understanding, and one which can serve as a springboard for contemplation, is that we must be very secretive about our alchemical practices. If we are not, the explanation goes, we waste our own energy through idle words. Moreover, the skepticism, jealousy or other negative emotions and thoughts of those whom we have told will set up currents of energy which act as obstacles for our work.

This bit of theory is, based on my experience and the experiences of others with whom I have spoken, basically correct, though not always for the reasons that we would expect. I will take them in reverse order.

The average person, and that includes the vast majority of occultists – let us not fool ourselves, is constantly walking through a field of the thoughts and emotions projected or left behind by others. We are not generally capable of differentiating between our own thoughts and feelings and those of others. They “feel” the same, regardless of their source. This means, among other things, that we are very susceptible to any thoughts and feelings specifically directed at us. A well-meaning friend’s skepticism may not entirely destroy our own belief in the process or goal, but if the doubt happens to pop up at certain specific phases of the operation, all of our work could go down the drain, which will only create more doubt, thus potentially sabotaging the entire process.

This is not to say that we shouldn’t have a healthy degree of doubt, but that it, and all other mental processes, need to be firmly under control. That control is not an easy attainment, so in the meantime we must use some method of insulation from external influences. For that, we have a policy of silence. Do not talk about such things to others, and they will have no opportunity to project doubt or malice your way.

This brings us to the first part of the theory: by some mechanism, we lose energy by talking to others about these things. This mechanism, whatever it is, is a complex one. I have heard it conjectured that it is a literal energy expenditure inherent in the act of speech, but this doesn’t explain anything. The fact is that problems are caused just as much by IMs, text messages and e-mails as by physical speech. It seems instead that energy is transferred through the act of communication itself. Given the symbolism of Hermes/Mercury, that would make sense. This might be a mechanism by which certain Masters have worked upon their disciples, such as Jesus, Shakyamuni Buddha and the Great Rishi Ramana.

Unlike those Masters, however, we have a limited flow of energy at any given time. Ordinary conversations do not make much of an impact, but the more elevated our conversations become, the more of our energy we focus into them. As such, it behooves us to create something of a seal to allow that energy to build up and create pressure. That is the key to much of alchemy: just as in a chemical lab, heat causes expansion, but pressure on the expanding substance creates more heat. Of course we must remember that we are speaking symbolically here, but we unfortunately can’t be any more literal than this due to limitations of language.

We can move nicely from here into another facet of silence: secrecy. Hermetists, Rosicrucians and their ilk have been criticized for a few centuries now for their secrecy. The critics often claim that we are merely trying to construct a false mystery around ourselves for the sake of image alone, or because we don’t really have anything useful to say anyway. That is a fair criticism of a lot of orders and lodges, and certain individuals, but not of the tradition as a whole. Another misunderstanding is that we still fear the inquisition or witch hunters. I know of a few people who live in areas in which they actually do have to keep quiet for fear of their own safety or that of their children. This is a sad state of affairs, but luckily not one that most of us have to worry about anymore. Unfortunately, a lot of budding Hermetists themselves seem to misunderstand the purpose of secrecy. A common belief is that we keep things secret just because our methods can be dangerous to those who are not properly prepared to use them. Again, there is a bit of truth to this, but, generally speaking, the techniques which could be dangerous won’t even work for somebody who isn’t willing to put in the work necessary, and most of the people who do put in that work will learn how to circumvent the dangers. So this is not the core.

An analogy from everyday psychology will help. When you have to keep a secret, perhaps some juicy piece of gossip on which you have been sworn to silence, there is always an attendant feeling of pressure. For most of us, it feels almost as if the secret is trying with all of its might to jump up our windpipes and out of our mouths and we must consciously hold it down. The mental and emotional pressure which we build up by the mere fact of holding something in confidence is actually a useful means of increasing the amount of potential energy we have available for our alchemical processes. This is the point which Aleister Crowley badly missed when he complained of being made to take darksome and dramatic oaths only to be presented with the Hebrew alphabet. Had he not been so impulsive and given it a bit of thought, or perhaps had he actually asked someone the purpose of the exercise, he likely would have come to this conclusion on his own. Crowley was a bit of a tosser, but at least he was a well-learned tosser.

It is utterly true that the Hebrew alphabet itself is no secret, so there would be no reason, even under the Golden Dawn’s oath, to withhold the alphabet itself from anybody who asked. The value of the exercise appears only when we steadfastly refuse to reveal even to our closest friends that upon our initiation we had revealed to us the Hebrew alphabet.

The first detail of practice in the construction of the philosopher’s egg stems from this point. We may openly discuss the principles of alchemy all we wish (as I am doing in these articles), but the specifics of our own personal practice and experience with it must remain strictly confidential. To do otherwise means a severe breach of our all-important seal. I can speak from experience here, as I’m still feeling some of the after-effect from certain years-past revelations. It is very easy to overlook this step, and many others will decide almost immediately that it sounds like baseless occult nonsense and jabber on as they please while moving quickly on to the more “interesting” operations only to find it next to impossible to make any real progress. I suggest long contemplation on the power of silence and actually taking my advice.

Once we have a good start in appropriate secrecy, we must move on to establishing the necessary mindset for work. This mindset has two major advantages: first is that it builds on the insulation we have installed by allowing us more and more to recognize ideas and emotions alien to our own psyches, which gives us the choice of either accepting or rejecting them; second, it makes the primary work of alchemy possible at all.

Preliminary Mind-control Exercise
This exercise should be performed at least daily, and will take about 15 minutes each time. Begin by sitting in a comfortable meditation posture. The standard zazen posture is good: cross-legged, back straight, chin tucked slightly so that the spine is straight at the top, a cushion under the buttocks, hands resting on thighs or in a simple mudra. I also often use the common Western posture of sitting in a chair, back and neck straight as above, hands resting on thighs, feet flat on the floor with thighs parallel to it. It doesn’t really matter, though, as long as you are comfortable and alert.

Once in position, take a few deep breaths and relax your body. Ask yourself a series of questions somewhat like what follows:

• Am I my body with its aging, inevitable decay, and all of its senses? No, I am not this for I am something more than matter.
• Am I my personality with its quirks, foibles, constantly shifting identity and confounding emotions? No, I am not this either, for I can observe my emotions and judge them fairly as if from outside.
• Am I then my mind with its thoughts and ideas? No, I cannot be this either for I observe my thoughts as a beekeeper watches his swarm of bees.

The goal is to conclude that “I and my mind are not one, but two.” Contemplate that point for a while before moving on to the next phase of the exercise. Make sure that you have at least intellectually grasped the idea.

Once you have achieved the appropriate mental state, that you are not your mind but are superior to it, build upon that intellectual foundation by closing your eyes and quietly observing your mental and emotional states, each individual thought and feeling, as if completely separated from them. Watch your thoughts go by as you’d watch migrating birds pass above you; they may be beautiful or interesting, but they are ultimately not any concern to you.

Maintain this state for as long as you are able, or until the end of your allotted time. Repeat this entire process at least once a day for a month or more. Do not move on to other exercises until you are sure that this exercise has “taken”. It is even advisable to abandon other practices, for unfocused attention cannot help this process.

This exercise will gradually have the effect of separating your identity from your lower faculties. With time, you will even gain the ability to distinguish “native” thoughts and emotions from those sent from outside, and will be able to accept or reject them on their merit. It is even possible to gain the capacity to know the source of any given thought or emotion. Still, the goal here is not to gain siddhis, but to transcend the need for them in the first place. This exercise will complete the process of the philosopher’s egg; first, you have sealed it through silence, and then you have lifted your awareness beyond it so that, as a true alchemist, you may work upon its contents.

Before getting much further into the study of alchemy, I think that it’s important to discuss the preliminaries. That is, how can a person prepare herself for the study and practice of alchemy so that they will be balanced and safe in the process?

There are a myriad of ways which people have used through the centuries, though certain modern Hermetists have devised some extremely safe and efficient methods which work much better for the majority of people than previous systems. These ware the approaches I favor and are thus the approaches which I will recommend.

First, I recommend a foundation in general Hermetic theory and practice. This is best gained through the careful and disciplined approach of Franz Bardon’s Initiation Into Hermetics (2001, Merkur Publishing). At least the first three steps of Bardon’s training system should be perfectly mastered before moving on to alchemy. I myself waited significantly longer than that, though that was because I was not privy to the arcana of alchemy at the time. It also depends upon which stage of development you are at: that of a magician, or that of a mystic. If you are at the stage of magician, you should work your way through most or all of Initiation Into Hermetics before considering any intensive practice of alchemy.

As you work through the initial stages of IIH, it is a good idea to study some of the finer points of the theory behind sacred magic and alchemy. For this, there is no better book than The Philosophy of Magic by Arthur Versluis (1986, Arkana). Study this book deeply.

Two other books are of primary importance in this preliminary training. These books are of both practical and theoretical import: The Tarot by Mouni Sadhu (2007, Hermetica Press) and Meditations on the Tarot (anonymous; 2002, Jeremy P. Tarcher).

A number of other works are of secondary importance. They can be done without, but they are extremely helpful in clarifying certain points. First among these is the Bhagavad Gita. In addition to being a fascinating look into Hindu mystical cosmology, the material within on the three gunas is quite useful in coming to an understanding of the three principles of alchemy. Next is Mouni Sadhu’s In Days of Great Peace, a beautiful and fascinating book describing Sadhu’s own spiritual quest and especially his time in the ashram of Sri Ramana Maharishi. The Way of Hermes (2004, Inner Traditions), an outstanding translation of the Corpus Hermeticum and the Definitions of Asclepius, is the primary set of Hermetic scriptures and is well worth study and contemplation. Finally, The Kybalion by Three Initiates (1914, Yogi Publication Society) is a modern exploration of Hermetic practical concepts.

Of course, Alchemy Unveiled by Johannes Helmond (2000, Merkur Publishing) is a wonderful guide to alchemy, though it is necessarily quite dense and difficult reading. I suggest it be added to any Hermetic library.

All of this should present years of work, and more than enough for a balanced ascent.

This is the first in a series of articles I’ll be posting here exploring the arcana and art of alchemy. I do not claim to have all the answers on the topic, but through a series of recent miracles, I have been given something of the practical arcana of the Royal Art. I have been given some degree of freedom to share what I have learned. Still, all arcana require practice and application for full understanding. As such, I can only reveal so much, so I will do my best to make it count.

I have chosen to name this series after one of the books which I have found to be most helpful to me in my study of alchemy: Alchemy Unveiled by Johannes Helmond (English translation copyright 1991 Gerhard Hanswille and Deborah Brumlich). The publishers, Merkur Publishing, have kindly permitted me to quote extensively from the text, so these articles will largely take the form of commentaries upon portions of Helmond’s work. I pray that my own writing does honor to the work of the Order of the Hermetic Initiated Gold- and Rosicrucians, and all other Hermetic adepts who have opened the way for me.

All that said, let’s begin.

What is alchemy? It is not a simple thing to define, like horticulture or cooking. We may say that alchemy is the Hermetic art of transmutation, but that still leaves us with many questions. What do we mean by “Hermetic”? Transmutation of what? And to what end? What are the methods used? And so on. So let us begin with these and see where they lead.

What do we mean by “Hermetic”? There are multiple ways to answer this, each useful in its way. First, we have the common use of the word: hermetically sealed. This point will become more clear in later articles, but for now it is enough to know that the principle work of alchemy is performed within the alchemist, who must make of himself an athanor, a sealed vessel wherein the transmutations take place. There are many techniques used to establish and maintain this seal. One of the most famous, but also most often neglected, is to keep silent. This refers specifically to silence concerning your alchemical practices and interests. The more detail you reveal to others, the more gaps you create in the seal; each one may be relatively small, or temporary and easily fixed, but if you keep creating those small gaps, they add up and the seal is never perfect. Good general advice along these lines is to only tell those very close to you about your interest in alchemy, and do not share any details with any but your most trusted friends who also share an interest in the topic.

Alchemy is also Hermetic in that it is based on the teachings of Hermes Trismegistos, that great semi-mythical adept of ages long past who left for us the Emerald Tablet. In fact, study of the Emerald Tablet of Hermes can alone reveal much about alchemy, though I personally have found that there is always more to coax out of it.

Next, alchemy is an art insofar as it cannot be performed according to unchanging formulae like a chemistry experiment. It has often been believed that alchemy is simply a primitive form of chemistry. The fact is, they are not even terribly closely related disciplines. It has been said, not without some truth, that chemistry and alchemy are not even family, they just live in the same house. Alchemy requires discipline and study like a science, but it also requires creativity, inspiration, and revelation.

Johannes Helmond says it well: ”True alchemy, in reality, is a Kabbalistic art which requires a patient examination of the genuine Hermetic writings and a deep-founded study of Nature. It also requires a revelation, either through an initiated adept or through an inner divine illumination.” (Helmond, pp 13-14) Alchemy is “Kabbalistic” in the sense that it is transmitted “from mouth to ear”, personally from teacher to student. The teacher need not be a living human being, though that is an obvious possibility. It is founded upon the study and observation of nature, certainly, but without illumination all the study in the world cannot make an alchemist.

Transmutation is perhaps more difficult to explain. Obviously, transmutation is the changing of one substance into another. The important thing to understand here is that there must be the seed of the desired substance within the original substance in order for the transmutation to take place. If there were not the essence of gold in the lead, it could not be changed into gold and all effort would be wasted. Luckily for us, the essence of the gold we truly desire lies at the core of all other substances with which we might begin.

What substances are those, then? There can be no pat answer to this question, but the most important substance, the one which must be transmuted before any other transmutation can have full effect, the materia must be the total human being:

“The subjectum artis of the alchemists is therefore the human being — not the human being in the common external sense, but as an internal Paracelsic microcosm and a small worldly astral firmament.” (Helmond pg 22)

The precise meaning of this “internal Paracelsic microcosm” will be made clearer in later parts of this series. For now, we must be content with the knowledge that it is, indeed, the human being that we are trying to transmute and perfect, transforming it utterly.

What, then, of the laboratory side of the art, with its transformation of plant, mineral and animal substances into medicines, precious metals and gems, and so on? This is the romance of alchemy in the popular mind, but it is truthfully a relatively small part of it. Not to say that it is totally unimportant, but it is not the essence. Something of the “practical” applications of alchemy will be said in conclusion of this series of articles.

So, that is all that can really be said by way of a short introduction to the Royal Art of Alchemy. Details will have to await future installments. For now, we at least have something like a definition which can provide a basic intellectual foundation as we move forward.