Monday 28 June 2010

Istanbul : Aya Sofia, 19 august 1977

they danced by the light of the moon

We have the best seats in the theatre. There is excitement and expectancy all around us. The lights go down. Silence. Utter and complete silence. Curtains slowly glide apart. Suddenly a blinding flash of lightning and a violent crash of thunder. A distant drum begins to beat. Insistent. And yet again, insistent. The dimmest of grey lights insinuates itself over the stage. A hideous ageing female intones a high-pitched incantation, picked up by her two sisters, even uglier than she.

When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

When the hurly-burly’s done

When the battle’s lost and won.

That will be ere the set of sun.

It’s the opening of the Scottish Play, of course. And if the director is old enough to be haunted by distant memories of childhood’s Christmas pantomimes, the three witches will be shrouded in rough black habits. They will be squatting round a fuming cauldron and their steeple hats will sway from side to side as they cast their infamous spell.

Round about the cauldron go;

In the poison’d entrails throw,

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights hast thirty-one

Swelter’d venom sleeping got.

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

And now they are all on their clumsy feet, gyrating wildly as  thin clouds of foul smoke rise from their loathsome stew and swirl about in ever-increasing shapes. Shadows grow darker and darker as they too join in the witches’ dance.

             And if the director is so inclined, and a suitably endowed actress has emerged from the dozens who so eagerly displayed themselves for audition, the oldest of the hags will be naked under her robe which falls wide open as she dances, with her elongated flattened dugs flopping and flapping and her skinny arms flailing as she ponderously whirls about in an obscene parody of a teen-age go‑go dancer.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

What an imagination had the Bard. Mayhap it was thus in his doom-laden day.

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

But today, on those nights when the moon is full, we are no longer beset with stereotypical projections of the imagination. For there are real witches who venture abroad : gentle folk who live in harmony with the rhythms of the natural world; who know the spirits of the wild wood and those too of the ancient sacred landscapes; who care for their fellow human beings; and whose watchword is ‘an it harm none’; and whose abiding precept is ‘perfect love and perfect trust’. They observe the phases of the moon; feel the twice-daily ebb and flow of the ocean’s tide; and welcome the monthly cycles of their womenfolk as a sign of ‘as above, so below’.

             Once in the month, and better it be on a night when the moon is full, they assemble in some secret place and as a sign of their freedom, their love and their trust, they cast aside their clothing and stand in the age-old alternation of woman and man, joining hands in a circle; feeling the Earth’s powerful energy pulsating, passing from one to the next; creating their world between the worlds.

             The High Priest makes brief introduction, bringing them into tune with the trees round about them and the moon riding high in the starstrewn sky above. They turn to the East, honouring the Power of Air, the breeze that is the breath of life. Then to the South, honouring the Power of Fire and the noonday sun which guides the procession of the seasons. To the West is the Power of Water which cleanses and refreshes the physical shell. Finally to the North, honouring the Earth, the timeless Great Mother of all, who nurtures and sustains.

             The circle reforms. They join hands and move in stately patterns to the left, the left, and ever leftwards; sunwise even as the hands of a clock upon  a marble mantelshelf. The earth energies rise. They move into altered states of consciousness. The Goddess manifests in the person of the High Priestess. She speaks words of love to her children on the Earth and gathers to them the freedom of the streams and fields round about, the wide expanses of the natural landscape, and the benisons for each individual home. They turn their thoughts to the needs of their near‑ones and ask for a blessing on their own individual endeavours.

             The High Priest takes up the chalice of wine. The High Priestess displays the sacred athame.

As the cup is to the woman

And the blade is to the man

So may they commingle in ecstasy of love

             The priestess is the first to drink. The priest offers a toast ‘to the Old Ones, from times past, times present, and times to come’. The chalice circulates sunwise with a kiss and a blessing, each partaking of the wine of the loving-cup. They dance for joy in the moonlight. They share a generous feasting.

             When all is done, the High Priest calls them together again. In turn they face to each of the Guardians of the Four Quarters, thanking them for their presence and bidding them farewell. They reform their circle and clasp hands for the last time. The High Priestess offers the traditional exhortation and all join with the final strophes

Merry meet.

Merry part.

And merry meet again.

So mote it be.

             People return to earth consciousness. There are heartfelt expressions of mutual support and good will. They resume their everyday clothing and gradually depart, leaving nothing behind save the atmosphere of love and tenderness generated in their ritual.

             The forest once again is silent. And the moon continues its unvarying pulsation from full to waning, to velvet darkness, to the first silvery burgeoning crescent, and the waxing to the majesty of fullness.


francis cameron, oxford, monday 8 may 2000

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

new spiritualities

Michael Conneely Backpackers Guide to the new Spirituality

ISBN 978-1-84685-488-0

GBP 9.99

This is a useful little book, the product of five years backpacking to sacred places within our islands where devotees gather to follow their chosen paths. Hinduism has been a great influence on the religions of the Western World, though not always recognised as such. Buddhism in a variety of forms offers a path to perfection and the choice of returning as Bodhisattva. Paganism most frequently manifests through the festivals of the Wheel of the Year and a personal choice of goddesses and gods. Shamanism attracts many solitaries within communities. Mysticism charts the way to the Divine. Vision Quest is both powerful and tough for those who seek.

The author has spent conscious time with all of these and more. He tells us of his experiences in a gentle conversational style. His book deserves to sit alongside  Pete Jennings Pagan Paths, with which it makes an illuminating contrast.

francis cameron, oxford, 28 june 2010

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

Sunday 27 June 2010

's

It used to be so simple. The Rule said the genitive singular of words-ending-in-s is indicated by adding an apostrophe-s, and plurals add a simple apostrophe. This worked even with tricky ones. The set model was "St James's Street" (where I once went to a smart upmarket shop to buy a hat). The singular noun "James" was genitived with an apostrophe-s, so "James's" was the norm. We had to be a bit careful with "men's outfitters", but there was really no problem. Everybody knew the correct spelling!

Alas! this is no longer so. Judging by the majority of the texts I read, with words-ending-in-s we are moving towards a genetivisation (sic!) by means of a simple apostrophe-without-an-s both in the singular and the plural.  Lament as I may the loss of old-fashioned-distinctions, I have to accept that even academics with a Classical background tend to fall into line with examples such as "Julius' children".

I rejoice when I find samples of inconsistency among the serried ranks of the learn-ed. A recent publication from an Ancient Historian (sorry, I couldn't resist that one) has "Apuleius's Latin novel" on page 6 and "Jesus' disciples" on page 20.

sic transit glorious monday. (Oh, really! Must you?)

francis cameron, oxford, 27 june 2010

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

Saturday 26 June 2010

neuter plural = feminine singular

A sometime classical scholar experiences high dudgeon at reading "your data is held securely" in a communication from one of his university's offices. "If," he laments, "the University of Oxford can no longer recognise a neuter plural in broad daylight, what hope is there for the rest of civilisation?"

What hope indeed? But then we no longer live in the Age of Prescriptive Grammar. Times they are a-changing! Now such rules are there are depend on observation and description of what people actually write and say. It's all happened before, of course. A classical scholar who matriculated in 1954 may not - but a mediaevalist of any age would - have been aware of the gradual sliding of some manuscripted nouns from neuter plurals to feminine singulars. And the marks are still there on the animal skins to prove it.

There was a time, even in my own earlier days, when the 'nice' word Datum was to be found on His Majesty's Ordnance Survey maps. We accepted that as the one and only correct usage. But now even we bus-pass savants needs must give pause before requiring, very politely of course, that data 'are' to be treated with all due deference.

And what about agenda? Ho! Ho! Ho! Dare we ask the Secretary of our Favourite Committee (indulge me but a little more) if the agenda 'are' complete? I think not.

francis cameron, oxford, 26 june 2010

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

Thursday 24 June 2010

.. and all the trumpets sounded on the other side

Last month there was a centre page article in the Church Times outlining some of the parallels between Paganism and Christianity. I wasn't completely convinced by some of the things that were said. For a very short time I considered putting together a response pointing out some of the very fundamental differences. In the end I put that idea aside. It would not have contributed to mutual understanding.

But this afternoon I found myself with Wikipedia's take on Pentecostalism there in front of me on my screen. It occurred to me then that there are common practices we Wiccans share with some of the Pentecostalists - though the motive behind these practices and their essential connotations are not at all in agreement. We both recognise : "words of wisdom (the ability to provide supernatural guidance in decisions), words of knowledge (impartation of factual information from the Spirit) . . . healing, miracle-working, prophecy".  We might not be in immediate agrement about the nature of Spirit, but we'd not be all that far off.

Then the mention of Aimée Semple McPherson and the International Church of the Foursquare Gospel awoke a memory that had almost buried itself under a pile of passing years. My Grandmother encouraged all of us to be open minded. When I was but a little tiny child, she took me along to one of Aimée Semple McPherson's Four Square Gospel revivalist meetings in London. (Was it at the Central Hall, Westminster?) We sat up in the gallery. From the platform came the invitation to 'Come to us and be saved! Those of you who want to be saved, raise your hand and come and join us!' My hand shot up straight away but my Grandma restrained me. 'You're not going down there', she said. And being an obedient little boy, I did as I was bidden.

Was I ever saved? A certain Jesuit priest might well say so. He, after all, conditionally baptised me at Farm Street and told me it was the finest day of my life. I trod that path for many a year. Even gave up some of my cherished insights to comply with the Book of Rules. When I'm feeling frivolous and with friends I can tease, I tell them the day came when I learned better and put all that behind me. Personal insight and personal responsibility took the place of centralised authority and a heavy code of conduct I eventually found too constraining to be any longer persuasive. So I just walked out and left it behind me.

Now I know something of where I have been and what I have done in past lives, why I am here in this life, why I chose that one particular set of parents, and what I was born with the potential to achieve. Now I look forward to the next time round. It's a thrilling prospect.

francis cameron, oxford, 24 june 2010

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

Tuesday 22 June 2010

22 June 1948

On 22 June 1948 The 'Empire Windrush' brought the first immigrants from the West Indies to the United Kingdom. They came to fill vacancies in London Transport, the railways, and many other areas. As I remember from that year, the wages offered by those concerns were too little to attract the indigenous people of Great Britain. Men came in from the colonies. They worked for these wages. They managed to send money home. It was the beginning of an immense change in the demographic makeup of this country - and eventually a great change in social attitudes. Just one of the events that have taken place in my rather varied lifetime.

francis cameron, oxford, 22 june 2010

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

shadows 22 june 2010

Wednesday 16 June 2010

Athena

I stand before a great statue of the Goddess and I am aware that even after 2000 years I am in sacred space, in the very Presence.

Sent using BlackBerry® from Orange

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

wayland's smithy 16 july 2001

Sunday 13 June 2010

bethlehem

I am puzzled. In my youth I was taught that Mary went with Joseph to register for the census in Jerusalem. How come, then, the babe was born in Bethlehem? The map indicates that a journey beginning in Nazareth passes through Jerusalem before reaching Bethlehem. (Nazareth is north of Jerusalem. Bethlehem lies to the south of Jerusalem.) We are told the babe was born in a stable at Bethlehem because there was no room in the inn. We are not told Jerusalem was overcrowded. Why go the extra distance? Was it to fulfill an Old Testament prophesy? Or is the Birth in Bethlehem story simply a myth invented later to bolster up a developing theology?

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous

freedom

On this day in the year 313 the Edict of Milan issued by Constantine the Great declared absolute freedom for all religions throughout the Roman Empire.

Posted via email from franciscameron's posterous