College of Thelema: Thelemic Education

93 Edward, Sophia, et al,

Well, I don't claim to be a Mother Theresa expert and most likely won't become one in the next year or two... I'm reflecting on her life from the little I know of it, and in a sense, now that she's dead and no longer at work in the world, my projections on her are more meaningful to me than whatever she was (if anyone can ever find that out).

I see, from what I know, a woman who believed deeply enough in something, some sense of purpose, to keep going for fifty years when the "thrill was gone". Right or wrong, that sort of persistence is impressive.

From the little I know, it seems that she deeply believed in the value of suffering; that she must have perceived her True Will, rightly or wrongly, as being in service to suffering; as serving and furthering the Path of Mem. She was a sort of Priestess of suffering. It seems true, from the little I've read, that she was not in love with the poor, but with poverty; not in love with the pain-ridden, but with pain itself. It's an exceedingly old-Aeon perception, and the sort of mindset that caused Crowley to turn perhaps excessively against the symbolism of the Hanged Man card, in reaction. In trying to serve her idea of Christ, she may inadvertently advanced the cause of Kali, native to her chosen ground. (But then, I love Kali too, perhaps more than Christ, so that's no barrier to me...)

But her newly exposed dryness of spirit, which I do not believe to be fabricated, regardless of the spin administered, indicates to me the depth of her commitment to this Word of hers, "suffering". Because she created in herself an abyss of suffering to match the outer suffering of those she (helpfully or not) served. In this she reminds me of Reverend Dimmesdale in "The Scarlet Letter", who does not share in the public shame of his lover Hester, but whose flesh bears in secret the excruciating physical mirror to her outer experience.

Dimmesdale eventually acheived salvation by the public confession of his sin; a peculiarly Christian manner of recompense not shared by other faiths. Did Mother Theresa, despite her recorded requests to the contrary, hope to also attain forgiveness through confession and suffering? I don't know. But the whole story is, I think, still heroic in its scope. Remember that for the ancient Greeks, the word "hero" was not a judgement of moral worth, but a practical description of one who was half man and half god; i.e., who lived and loved and fought on a scale beyond that of ordinary folk. Tragic stories of heroes also often involved their tragic flaw; the personality trait that led both to their rise and to their inevitable fall.

And as to recorded instances of silly or petty statements: undoubtedly. All humans say stupid things from time to time. But in today's era of camera phones and Youtube, our momentary lapses become eternal, and we are left with no one to believe in or look up to. And who benefits from that?

93 Sophia Lux and Edward,

Sophia, I could only make guesses as to the location of "dryness" on the Tree of Life, so glad Edward had an answer...

Edward, maybe you are right, maybe not; I don't know enough to say at this point. Perhaps I will have to buy the book in question, which apparantly contains her fairly uncensored letters. Perhaps on reading them carefully, some light will be shed on our own spiritual path; either by seeing her errors, or her successes, or both. But on the surface I would say that even if she suffered and struggled in error, she did so on a scale that was heroic.

Although (obviously) of a different faith, many of us have admired Mother Theresa's dedication and strength in the past. Now it seems there is a new reason to be in awe of her: it turns out that through most of her life and work, she was persevering through fifty years of a "spiritual dryness". Despite her inability to feel the comfort of the Divine in her life, she continued with her work and service to others. Truly a saint, and some comfort to those of us who have experience of the "dark night of the soul". Following is a NY Times editorial, copied in full: (TIME magazine has a longer article on the same subject this week: www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1655415,00.html)

Op-Ed Contributor
A Saint’s Dark Night

By JAMES MARTIN
Published: August 29, 2007
THE stunning revelations contained in a new book, which show that Mother Teresa doubted God’s existence, will delight her detractors and confuse her admirers. Or is it the other way around?

The private journals and letters of the woman now known as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta will be released next month as “Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light,” and some excerpts have been published in Time magazine. The pious title of the book, however, is misleading. Most of its pages reveal not the serene meditations of a Catholic sister confident in her belief, but the agonized words of a person confronting a terrifying period of darkness that lasted for decades.

“In my soul I feel just that terrible pain of loss,” she wrote in 1959, “of God not wanting me — of God not being God — of God not existing.” According to the book, this inner turmoil, known by only a handful of her closest colleagues, lasted until her death in 1997.

Gleeful detractors may point to this as yet another example of the hypocrisy of organized religion. The woman widely known in her lifetime as a “living saint” apparently didn’t even believe in God.

It was not always so. In 1946, Mother Teresa, then 36, was hard at work in a girls school in Calcutta when she fell ill. On a train ride en route to some rest in Darjeeling, she had heard what she would later call a “voice” asking her to work with the poorest of the poor, and experienced a profound sense of God’s presence.

A few years later, however, after founding the Missionaries of Charity and beginning her work with the poor, darkness descended on her inner life. In 1957, she wrote to the archbishop of Calcutta about her struggles, saying, “I find no words to express the depths of the darkness.”

But to conclude that Mother Teresa was a crypto-atheist is to misread both the woman and the experience that she was forced to undergo.

Even the most sophisticated believers sometimes believe that the saints enjoyed a stress-free spiritual life — suffering little personal doubt. For many saints this is accurate: St. Francis de Sales, the 17th-century author of “An Introduction to the Devout Life,” said that he never went more than 15 minutes without being aware of God’s presence. Yet the opposite experience is so common it even has a name. St. John of the Cross, the Spanish mystic, labeled it the “dark night,” the time when a person feels completely abandoned by God, and which can lead even ardent believers to doubt God’s existence.

During her final illness, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the 19th-century French Carmelite nun who is now widely revered as “The Little Flower,” faced a similar trial, which seemed to center on doubts about whether anything awaited her after death. “If you only knew what darkness I am plunged into,” she said to the sisters in her convent. But Mother Teresa’s “dark night” was of a different magnitude, lasting for decades. It is almost unparalleled in the lives of the saints.

In time, with the aid of the priest who acted as her spiritual director, Mother Teresa concluded that these painful experiences could help her identify not only with the abandonment that Jesus Christ felt during the crucifixion, but also with the abandonment that the poor faced daily. In this way she hoped to enter, in her words, the “dark holes” of the lives of the people with whom she worked. Paradoxically, then, Mother Teresa’s doubt may have contributed to the efficacy of one of the more notable faith-based initiatives of the last century.

Few of us, even the most devout believers, are willing to leave everything behind to serve the poor. Consequently, Mother Teresa’s work can seem far removed from our daily lives. Yet in its relentless and even obsessive questioning, her life intersects with that of the modern atheist and agnostic. “If I ever become a saint,” she wrote, “I will surely be one of ‘darkness.’ ”

Mother Teresa’s ministry with the poor won her the Nobel Prize and the admiration of a believing world. Her ministry to a doubting modern world may have just begun.

James Martin is a Jesuit priest and the author of “My Life With the Saints.”

93 All,

Well, not as if you need any further encouragement after the above endorsements, but I have typed out one fairly long quote from the book. Please forgive its length, but for me so far it neatly sums up what is so special and moving about this book (and perhaps the author felt this way as well, since she placed it in the Introduction). Here it is (if it all fits in one post):

From: Women of the Golden Dawn, Introduction, page 4:

"Magical Mottos, Inner Myths

Each of these Golden Dawn women chose a motto to define her personal search for meaning and her link to the Divine. The motto became her magical name, because in so naming herself after the image of a central principle, each woman strove to make herself over in that image. Yeats said, “There is some one myth for every man, which if we but knew it, would make us understand all that he did and thought.” Through their mottos we can glimpse the inner myths through which these women gave life to their souls. As you read their stories and discover how their mottos weave through their decisions and actions, you might think about the magical motto you would choose for yourself to express your own inner myth. What is the central principle or image by and for which you would wish to live? Wisdom, Light, Peace, Joy, Justice, Bliss, Strength, Truth, Unity… to quest, to love, to learn, to dare, to persevere. Is it symbolized by a Heart, Fire, Stars, a Sun, a Divinity? All of these appear in the mottos of members of the Golden Dawn, and always they tell something about the character of the person so named and about the central principle or image that motivates them. Through their mottos we will find the character, motivation, and aims to which the women of the Golden Dawn aspired, which can be seen through the related concepts of principle, quest, and task.

Florence Farr’s magical personality was Sapientia Sapienti Dono Data, literally translated as “Wisdom is given as a gift to the Wise.” The Latin word for wisdom has an additional meaning relating to the senses so that the expression can also be understood thus: “Taste is given to those who have the ability to savor it.” The motto clearly places wisdom as Florence’s dominating principle; her quest was to perceive its presence, and therefore her task was to hone spiritual knowledge.

Annie Horniman’s magical motto was Fortiter et Recte, literally, “Bravely and Justly,” but perhaps best translated as “With Fortitude and Rectitude.” Annie’s focal principle was moral uprightness: to be straight and strong. Her quest was to find a standard straight enough to warrant her task of upholding it with spiritual courage.

Moina Bergson Mathers was known magically as Vestigia Nulla Retrorsum, meaning “I leave no traces behind” – literally, “No tracks (footprints) turn back” – and, in fact, she left almost no physical evidence of herself. Moina’s dominating principle was selflessness. The clue lies in “not turning back,” for to not retrace the circle of incarnation she must annihilate (make null) her individual personality. We might therefore say that her task was to escape the spiral of karma and rebirth (and perhaps her own heritage), and her quest was toward spiritual evolution.

Finally, Maud Gonne’s motto was Per Ignum Ad Lucem, “Through the Fire to the Light.” Maud lived by the principle of pure single-minded focus to which everything else must be sacrificed. Her task was to burn away whatever was unnecessary to her purpose, sensing that the way to Spirit was through the strength of her Desire. This implied that only if she proved her worth through the most intense, even painful, experiences could she achieve her quest for spiritual strength.

As Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar discovered when editing The Madwoman in the Attic, about nineteenth-century women writers: “Women will starve in silence until new stories are created which confer on them the power of naming themselves.” The women of the Golden Dawn demonstrate what is possible when we name ourselves. We will discover how together they sought, never looking back, to apply the gift of their wisdom to courageously evolve along the straightest path to the Divine within.

Yet their real stories lie not just in how they succeeded, but in how they failed, for biography is the story of a person in conflict with herself and her environment."

93 All,

I'm halfway through a book called "Women of the Golden Dawn: Rebels and Priestesses," by Mary Greer. I am finding this book to be deeply inspiring and hope that I can convince others to read it as well (if you haven't already) and comment on it in this thread.

Ms. Greer describes the lives of four key women of the Golden Dawn in great detail. The women are: Florence Farr, Annie Horniman, Maud Gonne, and Mina Begson (Moina Mathers). Each of these women had very different personalities, and grew into a very different role in the order.

This book is very readable and brings these women and their environment and times to life. There are interesting descriptions of some of the workings done at the time, as well as astrological interpretations of events. The women deal with all the same things we do: relationships, money, family, children, aspiration, heartbreak, arguments, and division within their group. In a very deep way, it is empowering to read the stories of our spiritual grandmothers.

When I had gotten a couple of chapters into this book, I started thinking how wonderful it would be to have a "book club", in which Thelemic women could read this book together and discuss it and their thoughts. However, we'll all pretty spread out over the country, and have busy schedules. So perhaps this thread on the forum can be an online "book club".

You can find the book at Amazon.com here: www.amazon.com/Women-Golden-Dawn-Priestesses-Horniman/dp/0892816074/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-0824723-3673448?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1187880265&sr=1-1

Over the next several days, I'll be posting small excerpts from the book on this thread as "teasers," in an effort to entice people to read it!

93 93/93
Anna

Another science-related article from the NY Times relating in some way to the New Aeon and our growing understanding of the intertwining of mercy and severity (this one is relatively short, so I'm going to try and paste the whole thing onto this post):

Why Darwinism Isn't Depressing

By ROBERT WRIGHT
Published: April 21, 2007

Scientists have discovered that love is truth.

Granted, no scientist has put it quite like that. In fact, when scientists talk about love -- the neurochemistry, the evolutionary origins -- they make it sound unlovely.

More broadly, our growing grasp of the biology behind our thoughts and feelings has some people downhearted. One commentator recently acknowledged the ascendancy of the Darwinian paradigm with a sigh: ''Evolution doesn't really lead to anything outside itself.''

Cheer up! Despair is a plausible response to news that our loftiest feelings boil down to genetic self-interest, but genetic self-interest actually turns out to be our salvation. The selfishness of our genes gave us the illuminating power of love and put us on the path to a kind of transcendence.

Before hiking to the peak, let's pause for some sobering concessions. Yes, love is physically mediated, a product of biochemistry. (Why this would surprise anyone familiar with alcohol and coffee is something that has long baffled scientists.) And, yes, the biochemistry was built by natural selection. Like it or not, we are survival machines.

But survival machines are unfairly maligned. The name suggests, well, machines devoted to their survival. In truth, though, natural selection builds machines devoted ultimately to the survival of their genes, not themselves.

Hence love. A love-impelled grandparent sacrifices her life to save a child's life. Too bad for the grandparent, but mission accomplished for the love genes: they've kept copies of themselves alive in a vibrant vehicle that was otherwise doomed, and all they've lost is a vehicle that, frankly, didn't have the world's most auspicious odometer anyway. Love of offspring (and siblings) is your genes' way of getting you to serve their agenda.

Feel manipulated? Don't worry -- we get the last laugh.

Genes are just dopey little particles, devoid of consciousness. We, in contrast, can perceive the world. And how! Thanks to love, we see beyond our selves and into the selves around us.

A thought experiment: Suppose you are a parent and you (a) watch someone else's toddler misbehave and then (b) watch your own toddler do the same. Your predicted reactions, respectively, are: (a) ''What a brat!'' and (b) ''That's what happens when she skips her nap.''

Now (b) is often a correct explanation, whereas (a) -- the ''brat'' reaction -- isn't even an explanation. Thus does love lead to truth. So, too, when a parent sees her child show off and senses that the grandstanding is grounded in insecurity. That's an often valid explanation -- unlike, say, ''My neighbor's kid is such a showoff''-- and brings insight into human nature.

Yes, yes, love can warp your perception, too. Still, there is an apprehension of the other -- an empathetic understanding -- that is at least humanly possible, and it would never have gotten off the ground had love not emerged on this planet as a direct result of Darwinian logic.

Some people, on hearing this, remain stubbornly ungrateful. They hate the arbitrariness of it all. You mean I love my child just because she's got my genes? So my ''appreciation'' of her ''specialness'' is an illusion?

Exactly! If you'd married someone else, there would be a different child you considered special -- and if you then spotted the child that is now yours on the street, you'd consider her a brat. (And, frankly but I digress.)

O.K., so your child isn't special. This doesn't have to mean she's not worthy of your love. It could mean instead that other people's kids are worthy of your love. But it has to mean one or the other. And -- especially given that love can bring truth -- isn't it better to expand love's scope than to narrow it?

I'm a realist. I don't expect you to get all mushy about the kid next door. But if you carry into your everyday encounters an awareness that empathetic understanding makes sense, that's progress.

Transcending the arbitrary narrowness of our empathy isn't guaranteed by nature. (Why do you think they call it transcendence?) But nature has given us the tools -- not just the empathy, but the brains to figure out how evolution works, and thus to see that the narrowness is arbitrary.

So evolution has led to something outside itself -- to the brink of a larger, more widely illuminating love, maybe even to a glimpse of moral truth. What's not to like?

Robert Wright, author of ''The Moral Animal,'' is a senior fellow at the New America Foundation and runs the Web site Bloggingheads.tv.

Hey, this is a little off to the side, but here's an article from the NY Times, describing recent research on the behavior of dogs and other animals. Turns out that the right brain (which controls the left side of the body) deals more with fear, and the left brain (which controls the right side of the body) deals more with love and nourishment. This brings to mind the pillars of severity (on the left) and mercy (on the right), as well as the world-wide association (at least until recent times) of the left hand with darkness or the Devil.

www.nytimes.com/2007/04/24/science/24wag.html?em&ex=1177905600&en=1c79304bc8541fd5&ei=5087%0A

The link should work, but if not, try going to nytimes.com, science section, and the title of the article is, "If You Want to Know if Spot Loves You So, It's in His Tail." BTW, you can sign up, free of charge, for the NY Times to send you an email each morning with their headline articles (and links to many more). Access to past articles (archives) and some Op-Ed pieces requires a "subscription" of about $9 per month or $50 per year. If you've got the extra cash, it's well worth it to stay informed by the best paper in the States, and also support daily paper journalism (which is the original source of most of our news, but becoming less and less profitable for the news companies every day; another issue in and of itself.)

p.s. yes, I am a leftie...

93 YHVH,

My oil is from SomaLuna as well and I woud ditto DavidH's comments. Have to take their word for it, but seems good... have also bought some oil from an OTO member in Portland, but that would be hard to access from Athens. My father's family is from the Pellopenesus and Crete; greetings to you in Athens! Last time I was in Greece was in 1972 as a child; still remember walking through the Parthenon. Understand that's not possible anymore... Is there a Thelemic community in Athens these days? I saw a news article recently in which Greek pagans took over the Acropolis for the first official worship of the old Greek gods in some time... did you have the opportunity to attend?

93 93/93
Anna

LOL! Edward, you're right about the difficulty of embracing joy! Years ago, I remember wondering whether I would even be "me" if I weren't depressed. Would I become just like all those (possibly fictional) happy suburban shopping mall rats? This was long before I heard Jim describing our personalities as "T-shirts" that we wear over our inner star... I think Thelemites often have a hard time choosing joy because so many of us were or are "black sheep." We're different, perhaps have always been different, and long ago decided that we were going to embrace our outsider status and make it our own. A certain moroseness quite frequently accompanies this stance. We embrace the shadow; the things others don't want to look at or even acknowledge: death, pain, loneliness, sorrow...

This isn't always a bad thing: after all, if we weren't willing to be different, willing to be outsiders, willing to take a closer look at things we'd been told were "evil" (like magick, the occult, and Crowley for example) we'd have never made it to this forum or to the rest of the Work....

On the other hand, there's no reason why one can't be an outsider and joyful too. One just tends not to be joyful about the same things as the other sheep...

Basically, we all have to eventually give up our attachments to get through the gate. As Jim was saying recently, you don't have to give up everything you own, but you have to be willing to give it up, to get past a certain point (certainly not right at the beginning)... For some of us outsiders, that means in part that we have to be willing to share some qualities with those insiders that we've been resenting and feeling superior to all these years. For the "insiders," the reverse applies.

Well, I've drifted off topic as usual...

I did want to say that I agree with asclepio about the difficulty of explaining Thelema. I remember when I first started reading about Thelema... the various descriptions of Thelemic beliefs and practices that I read at first sounded so vague and eclectic... honestly they sounded wishy-washy to me back then. "What do you believe?" "Well, we believe that everyone is a star and has their own path to follow; we can't tell them what that is, but we recommend these various practices to start finding it." What? Coming from my background in Christianity and Islam, that sounded like someone was dodging the question. "There is no God but God and Muhammad is His messenger." Now, that's a statement of belief, according to my thinking at the time.

I certainly don't think that way anymore, but I remember that there was a really tall hurdle for me to get over in understanding what Thelema was about. I felt an internal drive to pursue this path and so I did... but I did not have a conscious, intellectual understanding of it for quite a long time...

I think if I were going to explain Thelema to someone today, I might begin by saying that it brings the lessons of Taoism to the roots of Western consciousness. What does that mean? Taoists hold the view that the ultimate reality is the Tao, which is "the mysterious natural order of the Universe," beyond all description; not nothingness, but "everythingness." The Tao contains divisions within itself; firstly yin and yang, which were created by the division of the Tao (0=2). These divisions are in constant dynamic balance with each other, and both from the same source. The Taoist seeks to find a path in life which is in line with the current of the Tao; he/she seeks to bring the opposites within themselves to balance, as the yin and the yang in the Tao, and she desires a quality of "spontaneity" which is unconditioned and uninfluenced, being nothing more than itself. (As you can see, very similar to Thelemic ideas...) So, why not be Taoist? Here's the main reason, IMHO, and the reason why I would explain Thelema as "bringing Taoism to the Western roots." All of us raised in the West (or in the Middle East, or any region influenced by the Abrahamic faiths) carry within us very powerful archetypes created by the monotheistic, dualistic faiths and the cultures which have grown up around them. Archetypes such as God, Jesus, the Devil, salvation, damnation, the redemption of sins, heaven, hell, angels and demons, and so many more. These archetypes and their numinous power (my favorite Jung word!) don't go away just because we decide that we're converting to Taoism or Buddhism or any other "foreign" faith that doesn't engage our own native archetypes. You can sit and meditate in a Buddhist monastery for years, but God and the Devil in the forms that you learned in Sunday school are still going to be roaming around in your subconscious, kicking up dust and wreaking havoc when you least expect it. You have to go after them where they live, not just cover them up with a new religion. And that's just what Thelema does. And that's why it's so scary. Because now you're going to take the Tao and the yin and the yang and apply that to your Christian beliefs, so that "God" and "the Devil" just turn out to be two aspects of the Whole, both necessary and both in ever-changing dynamic balance. It's only Thelema that can actually heal the archetypical wounds of our collective subconscious and bring us back to spontaneous unity with the All.

sigh anyway, thanks for letting me share my thoughts...

93,

If I may digress from the main topic of this thread for a moment... I would like to address the question of etiquette.

A large number of Thelemites seem to have interpreted "Do what thou wilt" as a license to behave without thought or consideration. Apparently manners are considered "un-Thelemic." On the contrary, I would argue that manners are useful tools for Thelemites.

What is the purpose of etiquette? I would describe it as twofold: firstly, etiquette allows persons who may have differing or even opposing views or interests to interact with each other, learn from each other, negotiate with each other, and even work with each other. Without the "social lubricant" of etiquette, discussion of difficult topics and issues would be impossible. The annoyance factor would quickly outweigh the benefits of discussion and social congress would end.

Secondly, etiquette is a social marker that proves one worthy of reciprocal respect and consideration. By behaving in a "noble" fashion, with the sort of restraint and generosity that kings would employ, one indicates that one is a person of quality and discipline, and worthy of respect. Think of the movie "Kingdom of Heaven" (if you have seen it). Leaving aside historical considerations, remember the noble bearing of Balian, King Baldwin, and Saladin. Also remember the boorish antics of Guy de Lusignan. Leaving historical considerations aside, which characters seemed more regal, more deserving of respect?

Some Thelemites may make the mistake of thinking that manners are the same as "making nice," and may confuse etiquette with obedience to authoritarian controls. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Etiquette is a tool that will allow you to pursue your True Will, whatever that is, without losing forward momentum to friction. What moves faster through the air; an arrow, or a cardboard box? The arrow offers no resistance to the world around it except at its one point of Will. It is also possible to remain polite while not being nice at all, as numerous movie villains have shown us.

By rude behavior, you may lose the good will of those who might be in a position to help you later. You never know when you might need someone. Don't throw away good will without good cause.

93 93/93
Anna

Jim wrote: But the Golden Rule then assumes that what I want in my experience of existence is the same as what you want.

A really good (and sad) example of this is an American humanitarian effort some decades ago that was attempting to relieve famine in some part of Africa (was it Ethiopia? unfortunately there are a lot of areas in Africa that have suffered from famine) by air-dropping powdered milk. Not realizing that most Africans, like most Asians and some Mediterraneans, can't digest milk once they're adult...

93 Edward,

Interesting post and replies... here're my thoughts from a slightly different angle:

Not all religions have a strong mythological component. Taoism and Islam, for example, are to a certain extent actually rejecting of mythologies in favor of a path of understanding God or the Universe directly without the intermediaries of Yetziratic process. Taoism consists mainly in the conception of the yin and the yang, which emerged from the original nothingness, and of the tao, or path, one takes to understanding their dance. This is very like the Thelemic/Kabbalistic ideas of Binah and Chokmah above the abyss and the initiate's journey thereto. At the folk level, there are conceptions of Taoist "dieties" with their various stories, but they are not the center of the religion; most accounts I have read imply that these are provided for the comfort and satisfaction of the common people... Most of what I have read of Crowley and his work indicates that he aimed most of his attention toward the few who were willing and able to pursue the Work; he was not much concerned with whether or not the bulk of the people could find a friendly interface with Thelema. I see Thelema as an inherently elitist religion; not in an exclusionary way like a country club, but in a meritocracy fashion like a martial arts school or a research university.

Islam strongly rejects the application of any attributes or characteristics to God whatsoever, arguing that he/she/it is above and beyond any such descriptives.... it is a beautiful, pure, but stark conception of God... reminding me of a Japanese Zen rock garden in its austerity. Islam also rejects the idea that God could have a "son" or family of any sort. The "99 names of God" in Islamic tradition are to a large extent pairs of opposites which communicate that God encompasses and transcends all dualities and describable properties. Islam does have a more human series of stories, similar to myth, concerning the Prophet and his companions and family, but this is similar to our stories of Crowley and this adventures.

Crowley strongly admired both the Taoist and Islamic traditions and it may not be coincidental that Thelema also deals more directly with the "pure" or less mythological conceptions of God.

Another thought is that it fits, according to my understanding of Thelema and its philosophies, that as little as possible is spelled out for the initiate, so as not to interfere with each finding his/her own Will, or path. The construction of mythologies to assist the seeker in interfacting with the Divine might both ease and distort the journey of the Seeker. Ideas related to this might be the reason for the prohibition in the Comment against discussing the contents of the Book.

93 93/93
Anna

93 Frater 418,

The Four Powers of the Sphinx are discussed in some detail in Liber Aleph and in In The Continuum volume 2, number four (reference courtesy of dshoemaker, moderator). See General Discussion section for info on ordering ITC copies.

Regarding your post in which you are asking about examples such as daring to proceed with a Goetia ritual without feeling ready, etc: In my opinion, the four powers of the Sphinx are meant to balance each other, just as the four elements are meant to balance each other. Pursue each one of them, but not to the detriment of any other. "To know" that one is not ready but to "dare" regardless without desperate need would be foolish, IMHO. Prepare your knowledge and your will, keep silence where necessary; once all is in place, dare to proceed despite your fears. That's just my thought; I'm still at an early stage of figuring this out myself....

93 93/93
Anna

93,

Kraig states in "Modern Magick" that generated power increases exponentially in group work, meaning that 2 persons may raise 4 times the power of one, 3 persons may raise 8 times the power of a single magician, 4 persons may raise 16 times the power, and so forth. (This is assuming all other factors, including the skill of the magicians, constant.) How does this jive with others' experiences here? I regularly work together with between 7 and 16 other magicians; the effect is always much greater than myself alone, but is noticeably stronger at times, not always for reasons that I can identify. What would you say are the most important factors affecting the generation of magical power in a group?

And speaking of Kraig and his book; I have a friend who is shy of group work; would you recommend someone's following the study plan in Kraig's book for solitary work? Or not?

93 93/93
Anna