Yesterday, my local Ordo Templi Orientis group celebrated our first Gnostic Mass since the pandemic began. We held this fantastic event in my basement. This doesn’t sound impressive, magnificent, or befitting an order often accused of every conspiracy theory out there. Honestly, where are our Illuminati-funded buildings, cabals of bankers, and armies of celebrities? Maybe the most significant rebuttal to the conspiracy theories is this basement Gnostic Mass.
This is part of a more outstanding issue with magick and occultism in general. The easily frightened have crafted increasingly outrageous and fanciful ideas to alleviate their anxiety that the world is genuinely rudderless. This also subtly affects the more rational out there. They expect something to exist, like a church building that somehow operates without 10% tithes from half of the local population. Maybe a hidden ornate temple that came from… somewhere? How about a group of a few dozen initiates everywhere that doesn’t even amount to 1% of the population? Contradictory expectations like this are everywhere.
I often hear from newcomers that there’s no group in their city or that they want to wait until the local group has a building all their own or some other expectation. I understand this notion, and no one wants to join the order of four people working their asses off to get things going. Hell, I didn’t want to visit the nearest O.T.O. group until it had achieved Oasis status. I know how you feel.
Yet, without those four people working their asses off, nothing would exist. My local group is lucky to have more than four devotees willing to assemble furniture, screw candelabras into the wall, donate their basement, crunch numbers, give classes, and pay the dues. When I say “devotees,” I mean it. These are those devoted to making things happen. The sawdust, paint, memorization, sewing, blood, sweat, and tears accompany getting things done. None of this is figurative.
That is how it’s always been, and most likely will be for a good long time moving forward into the New Aeon. Agape Lodge, the most successful O.T.O. Lodge that existed while Aleister Crowley was alive, held Gnostic Masses in their attic. The tomb was an improvised coffin, and members donated their talents to make regalia and perform magick. They did this while being surrounded by wartime morality and the prying eyes of one of the most repressed decades of American culture. Yet this lodge gave us Jack Parsons and eventually, by his success, made a more significant temple. This lodge gave us Grady McMurtry, who oversaw the revitalization of the order after the death of O.H.O. Karl Germer.
It was the work of W.T. Smith, who was demoted when his employer found out about his Thelemic activities. It was Regina Kahl, whose career as an actress was all but destroyed by the publicity of her involvement. Karl Germer was seeking asylum after being imprisoned twice by the Nazis for his involvement with Aleister Crowley. A handful of others faced similar scrutiny and hardship but remained devoted to the work.
As the pandemic begins to wane, barring the idiotic efforts of anti-vaxxers, I see more people wanting to join groups and finding none in their area. Well, the solution to that is to be the one to start it up. If the members of Agape Lodge could do what they did in their time, you can start a meetup. Put your name out there and find others in your local area who are interested in your path, be it Thelema, Witchcraft, Golden Dawn, or whatever.
You may need to start the order of four hard-working devotees where you live. You may need to learn how to sew, build temple equipment and magical tools, memorize rituals, lead other people, educate yourself and your students at a faster pace, and deal with the local population making up stranger and stranger stories about you. You will need to donate time, money, effort, and to thicken your skin.
But it’s worth it. The conquering of these hardships brings a unique reward every time.
I look back at my beginner prejudice of expecting a super-secret, yet highly developed lodge, with a bit of laughter. A Wiccan raised me, and I saw how hard my mother had to work just to get her coven to be productive in any fashion. I saw how fallible people were and how those personality conflicts made everything so much more difficult. I also saw how a resilient, determined, and fierce devotion to doing the work could surmount all these obstacles and more. I knew better, well, at least I should have.
I understand wanting a temple, and I miss having a space like that. I understand wanting a group to help newcomers and interact with; I was an aimless solo practitioner most of my life. It’s just that sometimes, you have to be the one to make it happen.
You want a lodge, a coven, a temple. I understand all of that, but in the wisest words to ever grace Brittney Spears’ voice, “you better work bitch!” They don’t call magick “The Great Work” for nothing.
Ophiphos 