CW: Discussion of suicidal feelings, of the concept of suicide as a metaphor for magic practices, also mention of rape, addiction, and other traumas. 

Here’s something I’ve learned from magic and Devil worship:

Whenever you need to kill yourself, do it.

Just never do it physically.

The initiatory path is a series of spiritual deaths and rebirths. Alchemy is a cycle of putrefaction, purification and perfection. The power of a magician and a Satanist is the power of self-creation, of assuming agency over identity and destiny, and a very large part of that comes from the willingness to die to oneself, to shed old masks and old identities and old lives and old relationships, again and again if necessary.

Growth hurts, and sometimes growth feels like dying. Think of the tarot cards Death, the Tower, the Hanged Man, and even the Wheel of Fortune, under which we are broken and upon which we rise, again and again and again. These are all cards of change, reversal, renewal, and catastrophe, resulting in something new. Crisis is necessary for change, and change is the essence of freedom.

Having been through a few spiritual deaths and rebirths— some intentional but most of them admittedly not— I can tell you that I no longer see myself as a single discrete entity, with one identity continuous between physical birth and death. Instead, I have come to believe in reincarnation within a single lifetime.

The child I was died at the threshold of adolescence. The teenage girl I was supposed to be was murdered when she was raped. The traumatized young woman who replaced her passed away when I transitioned to male, and was replaced with an angry young alcoholic man. He in turn died when I got sober, and so on, and so forth. These are only a few of the people I have been, just a handful of the brief lives I have lived in this single human lifetime.

The person I was yesterday does not have to be the person I am today. Any time I get to a point where I can’t stand myself anymore, I can always die and be reborn.

Easy as that? No, not easy. As hard as that. As hard and painful as dying, and just as liberating.

I believe it was Michelangelo who said he didn’t sculpt, he freed shapes from the stone. I look at myself as a raw block of marble. I take up the chisel and I cut away, until for the time I am satisfied. But only ever for a time. Later I may cut away more.

But even this metaphor is imperfect because I don’t just subtract, I add, and I am no longer convinced that my raw material is the same as what I had when I started out. In a very literal sense, it is not— none of the cells in my body are the same as the ones I had when I was born. I am a collection of free-wheeling atoms, coming and going, and I can let desires, dreams, personality traits, habits, opinions, all these little things that I think are me, come and go as well.

This is why I have had so many names and pseudonyms and stage names and pen names throughout my life. In the internet age taking on new handles and identifying with them comes easy. Magicians do this too— in systems like the Golden Dawn, many take on a new name with each new magical grade. This is useful. Names have power. New born things deserve new names, and if you have died and been reborn, so do you. What do you think baptism, that symbolic drowning followed by naming, is all about?

Is there some essential, platonic me-ness underneath it all? I don’t know. I do have a true, secret name I cling to, the name of my Godself, but I don’t pretend to know that self or to truly be that self for more than a few blessed, fleeting moments here and there. I believe in in my Godself, I hope to know and become that self, but in truth it is an abstraction, an ideal.

The human self I think I know is an illusion, impermanent. I have been many people throughout my life. I don’t look back on all of my dead selves with contempt, although some of them I undoubtedly do despise. All of them were just who I needed to be at the time, my best attempt at an identity for that moment. Prototypes.

Someday I may become the philosophers stone, something polished and pure and utterly Myself. But for now, I putrefy, I purify, I putrefy again. Death and rebirth in an endless cycle without my mortal heart skipping a beat.

And any time the depression hits, I become suicidal, I want to die– that is a sign that it may be time for me to spiritually die again. When my current life, circumstances, identity become unbearable, I can change. I can do something new. There is no need to hurt my physical self, no need to leave this plane. Instead I can embrace the process of putrefaction, of ego death, go willingly into the nigredo phase of the alchemical project once again. It’s only natural, and I believe we all do it.

I have struggled with feeling suicidal all my life, but now I know the truth. I do not want to physically die, or leave this world. I want to transform, to free myself, to grow.

And I can, and I do, again and again and again.

The world is on fire. We all know it and we try not to think about it. But verily I say unto you, my people– we are living in the end times, and we are all gonna die, unless we get our fucking shit together.

A new study predicts that, unless drastic and immediate action is taken, global heating will render the world virtually uninhabitable and bring about the end of civilization as we know it by 2050.

And yes, this is a Satanic problem.

Obviously it should be a problem for all people, since, no matter what our faith, every last one of us is going to burn– not in Hell, but here on Earth.

However, influential elements of the Christian Right are actively courting the apocalypse. They can’t wait for the second coming. They aren’t the least bit concerned about climate disaster, nor do they believe it is man-made. They believe it is the hand of God.

And these fucking wackadoodle doomsday cultists– for make no mistake, that is what they are– have the President’s ear. They have far more influence on American policy than do climate scientists. They are determining our destiny. They are winning.

And who’s gonna stand up to them?

If only there were a religious movement that could provide spirited, passionate opposition to them. A religious movement that does not revile the material world, but cherishes and reveals it. An anti-authoritarian religious movement that is in favor of science and progress. A religious movement dedicated to the Lord of this World. A movement like, oh… Satanism.

Yes, I am aware that Satanic doomsday cults exist. They should be embarrassed. They are doing the same work as right wing Christians, only less effectively. They are laughable.

True Satanism does not court Armageddon, and it isn’t going to take it lying down either. We are not the type of people who go gentle into that good night.

My friends, I teach you the Antichrist!

Our need is desperate. The hour is late. The situation is dire. We need a Messiah who will rage against the suicidal forces of capitalism, fascism, ignorance and doomsday cultism.

We need a Messiah who can maintain hope against all odds, and kindle it in the hearts of others.

This savior should hold reverence for nature in one hand, and the Promethean light of science and technology in the other, for we will need both if we are to be saved.

When conservative voices claim that this world of capitalism and “democracy” is the best of all possible worlds, and claim America is heaven on Earth, the Antichrist should call for a War in Heaven.

And who is the Antichrist?

Well, I am. And you are. And you are. And you, and you, and yes, you.

We must be a beast with many heads. We must rise up and swarm against the powers of the Demiurge, powers of capitalism, fascism, greed, apathy and despair. Those bastards might be ready to meet their Maker– or, more likely, they think they can sit the whole things out in their luxury bunkers. Fuck that. They don’t get to take the whole world with ’em.

The good news is, this is not your fault. Just 100 companies are responsible for 71% of carbon emissions. Sure, our individual emissions contribute, a little bit. But these 100 companies want you feeling guilty and disempowered and wringing your hands as you sort your recyclables. If you’re too busy feeling personally responsible for the destruction of the world, then you aren’t looking at them.

Know the enemy. Fight the enemy. The enemy is big oil. The enemy is capitalism. The enemy is global fascism and the Christian Right. Focus your ire on them. Hit them hard.

But how, I hear you ask? How should I begin? How can I accept the sacred charge of Antichrist, and rear up as a head of the Beast?

Good questions, and I wish I had all the answers. But I do have a few suggestions. Think of these actions as acts of devotion, as religious duties, as offerings.

1. Stop paying them to kill you. Big Oil relies heavily on investors. Who are some of their biggest investors? BANKS. Specifically Wells Fargo, Citibank, Bank of America, and JP Morgan Chase. If you bank with any of those, take your money elsewhere ASAP. It might not sound dramatic or heroic, but it’s one of the most impactful actions you as an individual can take against Big Oil without risking arrest. Consider switching to a credit union instead. Most of them will be a much better banking experience anyway and give you a better interest rate. It’s a pain in the ass to switch, but it’s worth it.
2. Spread awareness of the enemies list. Make as many people as possible aware that climate change is largely fueled by a handful of greedy oil CEOs. We need the entire world to get mad as fuck about it. Posting on social media is a start, but it’s not enough. Post fliers. Drop banners. Put stickers everywhere. Have face-to-face conversations. We need to get everybody pointed in the same direction, against the real opposition.
3. We need to remove carbon from the atmosphere. It’s not enough to stop emissions, we need to actively take green houses gases out of the Earth’s atmosphere. There are ways to do this. Fund projects like these, and if you can’t afford to, at least make sure people are aware of them.
4. Hit the streets. Extinction Rebellion is my personal top pick for a climate activism org to support. Go to rallies held by this group or similar. During protests, Big Oil and their backers should be specifically targeted. Banks like Wells Fargo and Chase should be blockaded, gas stations should be surrounded, etc.
5. Last, for now, and definitely least: make any personal lifestyle changes in the name of environmentalism part of your spiritual practice. Many faiths have embraced dietary restrictions and other special habits. If you swear off meat (or at least beef) in the name of fighting climate change, strengthen your resolve with a religious vow or pact with your favorite demon. Make turning off lights when you leave a room a mindfulness exercise, and practice it diligently. Make donations in the name of your patron demons and deities, as offerings. Call on your demons when you hit the streets for actions. Weave your magick in. Why do I recommend this? Well, because individual actions are only remotely effective as part of a movement, and when done with great consistency. If you incorporate them into your practice, you will give yourself greater motivation to stick with them. If you use them as offerings or part of pacts, you may reap magical rewards in return. If you approach them as mindfulness exercises, you will improve your self-discipline. At the very least, you will directly benefit. Share these practices with your spiritual communities, and you may gain support from others to keep you on track, and even inspire them to take similar actions.

There have been countless apocalyptic religious movements throughout history, but few if any have ever actively tried to stop the apocalypse on the material plane. We need something like that right now.

Let’s be it.

This is a post about something I have just made up, regarding things which people have just made up.

I call it “The Precept of the Eye of Hoor,” a deliberately pretentious name for a simple concept.

Allow me to explain.

Aleister Crowley talks a lot about the Eye of Hoor, which, as it turns out, is his fancy Kabbalistic euphemism for… the butt hole.

No, my Precept is not actually about butt stuff, at least not in a literal sense. This is not that kind of post. Sorry to disappoint.

The Precept of the Eye of Hoor is as follows:

If you just pulled an occult concept out of your own ass, you don’t get to pretend that it is ancient wisdom from Egypt or some shit. Conversely, if you used someone else’s occult concept, you have to cite your source.

Simple, right?

Yet a failure to obey this precept plagues occultism. Occultists are shockingly terrible at citing their sources. Furthermore, there is a longstanding tradition in Western Esotericism of pretending that made-up shit is actually “ancient wisdom” from Egypt or Lemuria or Atlantis or the Akashic Records.

Many popular occult texts, such as, oh, The Testament of Solomon and The Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon and The Sacred Book of Abramelin the Mage and the Zohar claim to be a few thousand years older than they actually are and written by people who did not write them. Don’t get me wrong. Those are all important and effective and powerful texts. But in a bid for greater legitimacy, all claim greater antiquity and more illustrious authorship than they have.

This is the rule when it comes to occultism, not the exception. Think about how many Neopagan traditions (I am looking at you, Wicca) claim to be continuations of “ancient universal religions” that absolutely did not exist. Think about how many occult writers use the work of others without citation or credit (I am looking at you, LaVey).

The truth is that the Eye of Hoor, aka pulling stuff out of your own ass, can actually be a legitimate source of gnosis. You, yes you, can just make shit up and have it be effective and useful. And you ought to be able to admit that.

Pagans on the internet have come up with some useful acronyms to talk about sources of belief. “UPG” stands for “Unverified Personal Gnosis,” aka stuff that you yourself channeled, divined, or intuited. “SPG” means “Shared Personal Gnosis,” which is when more than one person has independently channeled, divined or intuited the same thing. “VPG” or “Verified Personal Gnosis” is when you channeled, divined or intuited something and then later realized that there is support for it in lore and texts.

For example, let’s say you get the feeling that Eisheth Zenunim likes red roses. That’s UPG. You mention this to other practitioners and they go “ya know, that’s funny, I always thought so too.” Now it’s SPG. Later you stumble on the passage in the Zohar where Eisheth Zenunim is repeatedly compared to a red rose. Welp. Now it’s VPG.

And that’s a cool and validating experience, but you know what? Just plain old UPG can be good, too. For example, I feel like Eisheth Zenunim has a thing with spiders. I started seeing spiders around my house in unprecedented numbers right after I started working with her. I do not know anyone else who really feels strongly about this connection. I have found nothing in any text relating Eisheth Zenunim to spiders. I could be wrong, but I also could be right.

Because guess what! All occult wisdom was unverified personal gnosis at some point in time. What do you think prophets are?

The entire Enochian language and system of magic was probably pulled directly from Edward Kelly’s bunghole, and you know what? It works.

I have personally based multiple rituals on alleged rites found in witch hunting manuals which were probably made up by inquisitors and never actually practiced by witches, and you know what? Those rituals worked. They worked really well. I perform Black Masses too, which were similarly made up via a series of anti-Satanic stereotypes. Yet Black Masses have power. And I don’t have to pretend that these rites come from an ancient strain of “traditional Satanism” that didn’t exist. They were made up by Catholics who were scared of blasphemy and who, by channeling their own fear of the Devil, imagined rites that would be very effective in attacking everything they believed. And those rites work just as well in practice as they did in the feverish nightmares of witch hunters.

Because that’s what magic is like. The performance of magic is a series of ritual words and actions given symbolic meaning and power. The Chaotes are on to something.

So please, let’s stop insisting that things must be old to be legitimate. Let’s stop obscuring our sources and omitting our citations. Let’s admit where our knowledge, lore and praxis actually comes from, even when it’s straight from the Eye of Hoor.

Conversely, let’s stop pretending that our ideas are original when they are not.

Let’s cite our sources accurately, whether our ideas come from Paracelsus or are channeled from the Aethyrs or are pulled from our own asses.

And by the way, you don’t have to prove that you were “channeling.” If you believe that you were, just say so, and people can decide for themselves whether or not it seems like a load of bull.

Broad adoption of the Precept of the Eye of Hoor can only benefit occultism as a whole. It will make study much easier for everybody, neophyte and adept and Grand Poobah Magister Templi alike. It will increase rather than decrease legitimacy, because honesty about sourcing is by far the best policy in the digital age. You can’t just claim something is an ancient text anymore, people will catch you and you will only look silly. Citing sources properly would also do a lot to combat cultural appropriation. There is no downside here, except for dishonest and manipulative charlatans who want to claim that gnosis belongs to them and to them along.

A lot of people shy away from Devil Worship, including the atheistic Satanists who compromise the majority of Satanists. I understand why. A lot of pagans want to escape completely from the Abrahamic context, and I get it. Besides, the stigma is really high.

For me personally, I can’t help but stand by Lucifer, and yes he is Satan, and yes he is the Devil, yes, that Devil.

I went for Devil Worship because it actually felt connected to my world and my upbringing and my heritage. I needed to get away from Christianity, but at the same time that Abrahamic mythology is the mythology of my culture. I can’t connect with Celtic traditions or Druidry. That stuff may be in my bloodline somewhere, but it has nothing to do with my life.

The Devil, on the other hand, is an ever-present God to me. He’s the Lord of this World. He’s the untamed wilderness, and he’s also the Promethean light of invention, science, technology. He’s equally present in a virgin forest, or in the back ally, or a dive bar. He’s timeless, because he adapts to every era. Wherever there is temptation, curiosity, rebellion, creativity, lust, music, revolution, carousing, adventure, defiance, he’s THERE, just around every corner, lurking in the shadows with a smile.

I respect others who chose Paganism and avoid the Devil, but none of those Gods have ever felt so close to me, so intimately present, so entangled with everything I love, value and stand for. Call me a Satanist, a Luciferian, a Devil Worshipper, a Diabolator, but please don’t call me a Pagan. Both my religion and I exist in a post-Christian paradigm, not a pre-Christian one, and I have no issue with that.

Because people have been so eager to get away from Devil Worship, the rich mythology of demonology has barely been explored. As a polytheistic Satanist, I have the most incredible pantheon available to me. Demons are amazing, diverse, engaging, personable, wise, playful, and hilariously queer. They’re veterans of a bold cosmic insurrection, guerilla fighters who strike from the shadows of the universe. They inspire me far more than any other Gods ever have.

I am so glad that theistic Satanism is finally really becoming a real thing, and that the Devils are finally getting their due, because this really does have the potential to be a beautiful, joyous, liberating, revolutionary religion.

The specter of human sacrifice haunts Satanism. It is the worst of the stereotypes that we bear, the worst accusation to be made against us.

But the truth is that the specter of human sacrifice haunts religion in general, and especially Christianity.

In a sense, Christianity rests on a foundation of human sacrifice: the crucifixion, the pseudo-cannibalistic ritual of communion. Abraham nearly sacrifices Isaac to God, and in a lesser-known story, Jephtah actually does sacrifice his daughter.

If human sacrifice can be defined broadly as the killing of a human being for religious reasons, the Christianity can be considered to have a history of human sacrifice in practice, via the crusades, the inquisition, and various religious wars.

I think these violent, gruesome undertones provoke anxiety. These abject parts of Christianity need to be expelled somehow, and so they have been projected, for centuries, onto a mostly imaginary enemy: Satanism. (And often Judaism. Ever heard of “blood libel?”)

Certain Satanists and other occultists have flirted with the idea of human sacrifice. Aleister Crowley referred to sacrificing thousands of perfect infants as a sly metaphor for masturbation– in ejaculating outside of a womb, the magus “sacrifices” every potential life represented by each sperm. (In Crowley’s day, talk of violent human sacrifice was less likely to be censored than explicit reference to the sin of Onan! How’s that for backwards?)

Anton LaVey actually advocated human sacrifice, albeit on a magical rather than physically violent basis. He called for the “sacrifice,” i.e. cursing, of individuals who “volunteer” themselves as victims by virtue of obnoxious behavior. If more people took magic/k seriously, more people might be seriously disturbed by this. I confess, I don’t see anything wrong with a good curse on one’s enemies now and then, but I’m on the fence about connecting that to religious sacrifice.

I am considering this in the context of the Satanic Mass. Of particular concern to me is the figure of the nude human altar. The presence of naked figure “on the altar,” typically imagined as that of a beautiful young woman, is easily mistaken for a sacrificial victim. Actually, the body is not a sacrifice on the altar, but in fact is the altar itself. The real sacrifice is in the chalice and patten resting on or near the altar: bread and wine, metaphorical flesh and blood.

(The Gnostic Mass of Thelema also involves a nude priestess on the altar. For a good take on how easily this can be misread as violent sacrifice waiting to happen, see episode one of the excellent series “Strange Angel,” inspired by the life of Jack Parsons.)

In actuality, the “human sacrifice” of the Devil’s mass is the same as in a Catholic mass: the body of Christ. The blasphemy, and the genius, of the Devil’s mass is to make Christ into a victim rather than a messiah. It makes explicit the human sacrifice that lies at the dark heart of Christianity, and it rejects that sacrifice, turning it into a pointless, ugly death rather than a meaningful ascension. Subtext becomes text.

Sometimes I think a consensual, careful sacrifice of one’s own blood can be very powerful. Other excretions, such as sexual fluids can be excellent as well. So can a lock of hair. If giving up a little bit of yourself in this way can be considered “human sacrifice” then I guess I’m all for it in this context. Just be careful and responsible if you decide to draw blood. Self mutilation isn’t cute or Satanic (and as a recovering self-harmer, I should know). I usually just give menstrual blood because it’s convenient and painless. But if you don’t produce that, and reeeeaaally wanna give blood, be really careful, use a sterile tool, do not cut deep, and care properly for the wound.

Other than that, and the occasional Mass of Blasphemy, I don’t think human sacrifice has any place in Satanism. I strongly oppose the killing of human beings for any religious reasons (or really for any reason other than self-defense). I similarly take a dim view of animal sacrifice, unless you’re gonna actually eat the damn thing. Slaughtering a pig or chicken to be cooked and enjoyed in a ritual feast is acceptable to me (why shouldn’t it be? I’m not a vegan) as long as it is done as painlessly as possible. This, by the way, is how pagan animal sacrifice was usually done. Killing an animal just to kill it, especially if torture is involved, is abhorrent, and doesn’t really have much magical/religious precedence behind it at all anyway.

So, this post was prompted by a number of thoughts, experiences and conversations I’ve been having lately. It is not intended to come off as me being on a high-horse. I’m just trying to give some practical advice, which I need to take to heart as well.

So: magic can do a lot for you, but it can’t do everything. There are things which are in the realm of the mundane that ought to be approached by mundane means.

To give a rather extreme example: the other night I met a man who had… rather questionable hygiene, very little social graces, and a number of toxic and immature attitudes. He’s a magician. He confessed to having used magic to try to force a woman to become attracted to him. (She was a witch and she resisted.) He acknowledged that this had been “a bad idea” but otherwise didn’t seem to have learned much from the experience.

And I was just sitting there thinking, why is this guy prepared to go straight to dark ceremonial magick to obtain a partner instead of, ya know, taking a shower, getting a haircut, and working on himself a little bit?

I was judging him, for sure– but it also made me think about myself. Specifically, it reminded me of conversation I had with my magical mentor recently about my Qliphothic workings. My mentor cautioned me against going up the tree too fast.

“Well, Crowley did it with the Sephiroth,” I whined, “and he clearly got a lot out of it.”

“Yeah,” my mentor, who is a Thelemite, agreed, “He did, in many ways. And we have benefited from that work he did, and the knowledge he gained. But you know what else?” They paused for a second and then let loose with the last thing I expected to hear, yet the first thing I should have expected them to say:

“HE WAS A DICK.” 

My mentor went on to opine that, for a person who hasn’t done some basic self-work, going up either tree in a hurry may only crystallize bad tendencies. Sometimes spiritual practice is just doing your dishes and sweeping the floor. First thing’s first. Before you can be a badass magician, you need to be a decent human being.

This reminded me, strongly, of things that my 12 step sponsors have said. I am lucky to have a recovery program that taught me, a fuck-up with no idea how to live, to be an adult human being. (It also, hilariously, introduced me to Luciferianism, as a consequence of my needing to find a “higher power.”)

I think I have been taking my recovery for granted, and neglecting that basic self-work. People are really starting to respect me as a magus, and I’m torn between imposter syndrome and getting a big head about it. I’ve neglected physical self-care, and as a consequence, my recent workings have taken a toll on my physical and mental health.

It’s time to get back to basics, to ground in the mundane for a minute, to remember that before I am a big scary magus, I need to be a grown-up who makes my bed, pays my bills, and is generally nice to people.

This whole topic also reminds me of LaVey’s most original and brilliant concept–that of “greater” and “lesser” magic. For those who aren’t familiar, “greater magic” is all the shit most of us think of as magic– ya know, what goes down in the temple, in front of the altar, with the bells and incense and ceremonial daggers and incantations. “Lesser magic” is using the mundane to your advantage. It’s your posture, how you dress, the way you use eye-contact, the way you speak and present yourself. It’s how you come across in social interactions. It’s whether, when guests come over, you have a sink full of dirty dishes. And the “magic” of lesser magic is how people respond to you based on all those things, the huge difference that standing up straight can make in getting what you want.

An exhausted, hollow-eyed magus may have a certain whiff of occult power about him, but he might also have a hard time acing a job interview.

A magus who doesn’t shower, on the other hand, certainly has a whiff of SOMETHING, and I’m not sure it’s power of any kind. My fragrant friend did prompt me to joke that maybe all that ceremonial bathing required in old grimoires was just to make sure that magicians, the nerds of their time, actually attended to hygiene. “We’ll only get them to bathe if they think it’s required for Goetic summoning…”

So this is a reminder, for anyone reading this but especially for me as I write it, to take care of business. Take care of yourself and your home. Go to therapy if you need it. Be good to your friends. Try to respond maturely to the situations which present themselves in your life. Because all your spiritual growth doesn’t mean shit if it doesn’t manifest in your mundane world and make you a stronger, better, more powerful and wiser human being.

Aleister Crowley, the greatest magus of his age, died addicted to drugs, and abused many of his sexual and romantic partners. Don’t be that guy. Keep your ego in check, your physical well-being on the front burner, and your human relationships dear to your heart.

And if you’re reaching for magic when a mundane solution is right in front of you, for fuck’s sake put down the grimoire and do it the easy way.

People had tears in their eyes.

It was our first religious ceremony as a church. We thought the program we had planned would take about an hour. It only took half an hour. Live and learn.

My dear friend opened the solemnities with an Enkian banishing ritual in ancient Sumerian. It was wonderful. They spoke eloquently about Enki as a patron of the intersex and a deity of wisdom and rebellion. I don’t work with Enki, but I was thrilled to have him represented so beautifully. I think he’s an adversary and light-bringer figure entirely compatible with Lucifer.

Then congregants were invited to come up to the front and light candles in honor of… whatever they wanted. Candles were offered to Lilith, Eisheth, Agrat, Naamah, King Paimon, Lord Berith, Baphomet, and of course Lucifer– but demons weren’t the only ones honored. Pan, Bastet, the City of San Francisco, Friendship and Rebellion, and even Pikachu received shout-outs (we are very chaote-friendly). It was beautiful, moving, and collaborative.

After all the candles were lit, we sang “Sinful Gifts,” a doctored version of the classic hymn “Simple Gifts.” An award-winning choir we aren’t, yet, but it was sweet and moving.

As the last endearingly cacophonous strains of the hymn faded away, Vix and I stood to commence the Mass of Blasphemy.

I think we performed rather beautifully. I was nearly word-perfect with my lines. Some of the newcomers laughed nervously at certain points, especially during the creed, which is a 100 percent original Morningstar Congregation piece of liturgy:

I deny the tyrant above. I deny his sycophant son. I deny the holy ghost. I deny the so-called virgin mother, and all of the angels, and all of the saints. They have no power over me. I believe in the cause of the fallen angels. I believe in the Serpent of Eden. I believe in the Kingdom that is below. I believe in the God within me. 

The Creed, like the rest of the Mass, is intensely dramatic. I think the laughter was a response to that drama, and also maybe to the taboo-ness of the blasphemy. There was laughter again when, after the sacrilegious consecration, I plunged my dagger into the host. But not much laughter.

I didn’t realize how effective the mass had been until afterwards, when I received comments from the rest of the congregation. Words like “liberating” and “empowering” were common, and some confessed to being moved to tears. It was an incredible validation of the necessity of the mass of blasphemy, the necessity I had sensed.

And everyone wants to have church again soon! We are thinking we’ll start out having services once a month, probably on second Saturdays.

We are not ready to advertise publicly yet. If you are located in the Bay Area and interested in attending, contact morningstarcongregation@gmail.com. Expect to be vetted a bit, and we may ask that you come to our public coffee hour before attending a mass.

Today, I am going to perform my first public Satanic Mass. 

(We are trying to move away from calling it a “Black Mass,” since there’s really no call to continue equating “blackness” with things that are considered “evil” or “bad,” and that’s true even though we aren’t evil. However, I may use the term “Black Mass” a few times in this writing, because that’s how this particular ritual has been referred to historically.)

The Satanic Mass, like the Satanic Baptism or the Witch’s Sabbat, is a funny thing. It’s a fabled ritual that may never have actually been practiced (until very recently). Ideas of what the Devil’s Mass involved are confused and sensational. The most (potentially) reliable account comes to us in the novel La-Bas, by Joris-Karl Huysmans. Supposedly Huysmans attended a real “Black Mass” in Paris, upon which the scene in his novel was based. Anton LaVey based his version of the Mass partly upon Huysman’s account, and even quotes from the scene at length. (You can find LaVey’s version in The Satanic Rituals.)

I, too, drew heavily on La-Bas in scripting my Mass. I admit I also leaned on the band Coven’s track “Satanic Mass,” which was supposedly quite well researched. I suspect my mass will evolve and become refined over time, and will draw in additional sources as I find them.

What are the essential ingredients of a Satanic Mass, and what do they mean? Well, I can only give my opinion, based on my limited understanding. Here it is:

The high point and heart of a Catholic Mass is the consecration of the Eucharist, and the holy communion. Thus, the heart of the mass of blasphemy is the sacrilegious consecration and destruction of the host. My friend calls it “reverse Goetia”– the celebrant’s goal is to compel transubstantiation against Christ’s will in order to make an attack against him and his authority.

Let that sink in for a minute. That is extremely radical and extremely blasphemous. It’s a magical attempt at a physical attack on God.

So it stands to reason that not every Satanic ceremony or religious service is a “Black Mass.” If we were only “reverse Christians,” then it might be, but of course we are more than that. We love Satan more than we hate God, and most of the time we are focused on what we stand for, more than what we stand against. 

However, there is a vital place in Satanism for this type of ceremony. LaVey called it a “psychodrama,” and that is one function of the Mass– an exercise in radical apostasy, a ferocious banishing of the influence of Christ.

The Mass is also an opportunity to magically manifest one’s own desires. This probably evolved out of the “low masses” performed for personal gain:

Within the Church, the rite of the Mass was not completely fixed, and there were places at the end of the Offertory for the Secret prayers, when the priest could insert private prayers for various personal needs. These practices became especially prevalent in France (see Pre-Tridentine Mass). As these types of personal prayers within the Mass spread, the institution of the Low Mass became quite common, where priests would perform various Masses for the needs of their parishioner as The Mass is considered the highest form of prayer. In the 12th and 13th centuries there was a great surplus of clerics and monks who might be inclined to perform these Masses, as younger sons were often sent off to religious universities, and after their studies, needed to find a livelihood.

-Wikipedia

(This also explains part of how France became the epicenter of suspected Satanism.)

The idea of the low mass, I suppose, was that the sacred power of the Eucharist could be used towards, essentially, thaumaturgy– magic geared towards personal gain. The concept of the Satanic Mass as a vehicle for thaumaturgic magic is similar, except that the magical charge is derived from the force of the blasphemy rather than the power of the sacraments.

But wait! The mass has another defining component. Not only is it an assault on the authority of Christ, and an opportunity for magical working– it is also a sexually charged ritual.

The presence of a nude living altar has long been a defining characteristic of the Devil’s Mass. This element probably influenced Aleister Crowley when he was formulating the Gnostic Mass, which involves a nude priestess sitting on the altar for most of the ritual. (There is an important difference between the Gnostic Mass and the Satanic Mass, of course– in the Gnostic Mass, the priestess sits ON the altar, in the Satanic Mass, the naked individual IS the altar.)

This can lead to, if you’ll pardon the pun, an “altared” state. The altar becomes both more and less than human– an idol, a religious object. I have yet to serve as an altar myself, but I’ve been told it’s a deeply meditative state. In the documentary “Satanis: The Devil’s Mass,” a number of women who routinely serve as altars for LaVey speak about how much they value the experience.

(I think it’s stupid and sexist to exclusively use women as altars. So far, I’ve only used a male altar (although he is trans and has a body which he knows reads as female). In the Church, I hope that many different types of people will serve, consensually and enthusiastically, as both altars and celebrants.)

The nude altar has frequently been mistaken for a human sacrifice. For a vivid example of this phenomena, see the scene in the excellent show “Strange Angel” where Jack Parsons thinks that the High Priestess of a Gnostic Mass is about to be sacrificed. Film and television are mostly to blame for this phenomenon. The visual of a (typically) beautiful, naked woman lying on a slab with a black-robed priest standing over here, armed with a ritual dagger, definitely reads a certain way. Most people seeing that imagery would assume at the altar is about to be raped, slaughtered, or both.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The nude altar is a consenting individual having a profound mystic experience, who is the focus of all the power in the room, and who should in fact be considered clergy, just as much as the celebrant.

I am as sex-positive as they come– queer, trans, kinky, polyamorous and a long time member of the alternative sexual milieu in the Bay Area. And yet, as the date of the Mass approached, I found myself filled with doubt, fear, and sexual shame. I felt small, dirty, pathetic, creepy.

I spoke with my partner, who is also my altar for Masses, and with some other members of the Church. They reassured me, telling me that I am not a creep, that there is nothing wrong with sexual elements in a religious ceremony that involves only consenting adults. Eventually, one of my friends pointed out to me that it was, in fact, Christian programming that was making me feel so terrible about myself.

As soon as my friend said that, I realized how badly I needed the Mass. I thought I was past needing that psychodrama, that taboo-breaking ritual. I wasn’t. Maybe I will never be past it.

So I have chosen to inaugurate my church with a Satanic Mass of high blasphemy. I choose to do this because I want to banish Christ from our presence, because I want to use it as a thaumaturgic opportunity to bring the Church success, and as a great big “fuck you” to sexual shame and original sin. Over the nude body of my beautiful beloved partner, I will confront the false messiah with these words:

Thou whom, in my capacity of Priest, I force, whether thou wilt or no, to descend into this host: Jesus, artisan of hoaxes, bandit of homages, robber of affections—hear me!

Since the day when thou didst issue from the complaisant bowels of a false virgin, thou hast failed all thy engagements, belied all thy promises. Centuries have wept awaiting thee, fugitive god, mute god. Thou wast to redeem man and thou hast not. Thou wast to appear in thy glory, and thou sleepest.

Imposter! Thou hast forgotten the poverty thou didst preach, enamored vassal of Banks! Thou hast seen the weak crushed beneath the press of profit; thou hast heard the death rattle of the timid, paralyzed by famine, of children disemboweled for a bit of bread!

O lasting foulness of Bethlehem, confess thy crimes! We would drive deeper the nails into thy hands, press down the crown of thorns upon thy brow, and bring blood from the dry wounds of thy sides. And this we can and will do by violating the quietude of thy body, profaner of the ample vices, abstractor of stupid purities, cursed Nazarene, impotent king!

Behold, great Satan, the flesh of him who would purge the Earth of pleasure, and who, in the name of Christian justice, has caused the death of millions. O Infernal Majesty, condemn him to the Pit. Send crashing down the gates of Heaven. Let us be avenged!

And thou, pretender: vanish into nothingness! Thou wert never, nor shalt thou ever be.