Hekate Speaks About Jesus

The Neoplatonist Porphyry of Tyre (c. AD 234 – c. AD 305) once consulted an oracle of Hekate concerning Jesus. The results he obtained were recorded by a Christian writer but, according to Wikipedia, the other oracles Porphyry obtained from Hekate seem to indicate standard oracular procedure and are probably accurate — except maybe about the consumption of meat, which I honestly don’t care about — and so this oracle was probably recorded accurately as well, especially considering the anti-Christian themes preserved in it.

Quite a while ago I copied and pasted into a text document the oracle below. So sadly I don’t know its English language source. It is repeated with a glaring omission — the actual words of Hekate via Her oracle — in Sorita D’Este’s and David Rankine’s book Hekate: Liminal Rites, p. 118.

Here follows the text of the oracle of Hekate concerning Jesus as well as Porphyry’s interpretation…

~~~~~~~~~

But to some who asked Hekate whether Christ were a God, she replied: “You know the condition of the disembodied immortal soul, and that if it has been severed from wisdom it always errs. The soul you refer to is that of a man foremost in piety: they worship it because they mistake the truth.” To this so-called oracular response he [Porphyry] adds the following words of his own: “Of this very pious man, then, Hekate said that the soul, like the souls of other good men, was after death dowered with immortality, and that the Christians through ignorance worship it. And to those who ask why he was condemned to die, the oracle of the goddess replied, The body, indeed, is always exposed to torments, but the souls of the pious abide in heaven. And the soul you inquire about has been the fatal cause of error to other souls which were not fated to receive the gifts of the gods, and to have the knowledge of immortal Zeus. Such souls are therefore hated by the gods; for they who were fated not to receive the gifts of the gods, and not to know God, were fated to be involved in error by means of him you speak of. He himself, however, was good, and heaven has been opened to him as to other good men. You are not, then, to speak evil of him, but to pity the folly of men: and through him men’s danger is imminent.

~~~~~~~~~

Hymn I to Hekate

It is false that the grave has no victory
It is true that death has no sting
For I will lead you to live again
To the grave again
And to die

All the times of your darkest darks
The kill of the most poignant of pains
If then you dared some
Wildest gnosis
Acceptance equal to these and more
That was My tenderest embrace

Then and now are all spaces
All places turned liminal strange
Between the proton and neutron
Betwixt the quark and the quark
I arise without end
I am the world’s bones and
I am the tree of life and death
Axis Mundi is My name

I am the blade sharp to divide
Flesh from flesh
Flesh from soul
Soul from spirit
These too are roads and crossroads
I cut them
I breathe free for
I am the breath of the world
Say my name
It is Anima Mundi

Every flaw in every space
Every sob of every pain
I am hidden there for
My name is Most Lovely
And
Allwheres I dwell so allwheres is beauty and
The heart of all is beauty
Thus all things are redeemed so
Say my name for
It is Savior

I am the keeper of the four way crossroads for
I am the Goddess of death
I am the keeper of the three way crossroads for
Death is but an in between
You do not know
It is again to seek My beauty
That you awake again
So say My name, say it now
It is Psychopompos
My name, sing it from your broken hearts
It is Resurrection

It is for You we wake
That we taste again of beauty
Serpent flower in the heart of fear
Beauty whelming all but beauty
Tender Girl
Infinite Goddess
Our tears stream for You
Our sobs sing for You
We love you unbeknownst but
Else would be but empty world
Therefore we psalm Your name
A final time
Trembling and fanatic

Hekate Creatrix

—-Rachel Izabella Parker, 17 aprilis 2013

Hymn IV to Hekate

Hymn IV to Hekate

You are not the stars
But the wind between the stars, One
Lonely Infinite

Ghosts of alien sentient things
Follow you, nothing bars You where
You wish to tread, my alien Lady
Lonely

Nothing can possess You for how can
The thimble contain the ocean
An ocean of oceans of oceans
How could the toad grasp the hound

You are the heart of beauty
In every horror, the artless beauty
Between proton and proton
The howling chaos of quark and quark

You are the nameless flower in the core
Of torments of fires and thus
Our Savior and Redeemer
Salvatrix, Soteira
One and Lone

Hymn to Hekate III

O my Goddess
either’s beloved
a mine and Mine
let me climb worlds’ heights
so high
I see glimpses of Your dark mind
and blinding light
not wallow in the mud
as now
as swine

O my Lady
let me be Your mystic
Thine
see hear at times
You alone
no interference of the
clamorous rabble of
lesser spirits
f humankind’s psychic whine

O Hekate
beauty endless and fine
let be be Your horse and You my
Rider terrible and tender
see flakes of Your infinity
contain in me
flakes of You my Mystery
no need to flee
the pressure
the closer intensity
as ruminants at approach of the lion

Rachel Izabella P.
4 November 2013

Hekate’s Supper

Hekate image - beautiful but odd

Artist Unknown

The New Moon was yesterday at about 10am here in North Carolina, so last night was the night for Hekate’s deipnon, Hekate’s Supper. I know the good people at Neos Alexandria on their Athenian calendar go by when the Moon is full in Athens, Greece, but that’s (I hope) because they live all over North America and Europe, not just out of some misbegotten nostalgia for Ancient Greece. As I said I live in North Carolina, USA, and to offer Hekate’s deipnon on any other day than the day of the New Moon would just feel wrong.

When I’m not lower than whale shit lately I’m often very, very close to Hekate. I think that had an effect on me last night. —Walking toward the crossroads with a bottle of wine in one hand and, basically, home made cookies in the other, I was terrified. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Night animals I could not identify called out. When I got to the crossroads and laid my “cakes” down and let the bottle of wine drain onto the ground it was a little easier, I was preoccupied with the physical act. And I did it with my eyes closed, which helped. When I turned away without looking back, as is the custom, my fear had left me. —But that initial walk to the crossroads … it took a real effort of will. I hope that’s a sign that Hekate was waiting…

Hekate can be very loving and motherly, and for the first time ever that’s the way She’s been to me generally of late. The Terror that She can be, however, serves a beneficent purpose. In being scarier than anything else — anything anywhere — and in having the power to back that Terror up, She protects us. According to the lore contained in the Greek Magical Papyri, Hekate is the Goddess “before whom the Gods tremble”. If She can make the Gods themselves tremble, what possible danger could there be?

I’ll tell you what possible danger there could be. None from Hekate Herself, let me say first. But Hekate does not roam the night alone. She travels with a retinue, a hoard, of hellhounds, restless and angry ghosts, lamiai and empousai — the last two being varieties of vampiric spirits. But they too tremble before Her, and Her devotees come to no harm. I would not like to offer Hekate Her supper in any other mood than the most solemn, and the more terrified the better. If you go to the crossroads and you aren’t scared, you aren’t doing it right. Last night I feel I finally did it right.

Next month I plan on making a proper but simple magical rite out of it. I hope I have the courage. I’d love to go a little later, in the wee hours, to ensure privacy, create sacred space, recite Her Orphic hymn, and then offer Her supper. I wish I could find a secluded crossroads in the woods, but I’ve had no luck in my search. Her supper will have to be offered on or beside the pavement, I fear.

But that’s OK for now. Last night was scary enough for my blood.

A visit from Lucifer — scary, but more intimidating and awe inspiring. Hekate’s merest presence, the tiniest hint of it, in Her terrifying aspect — She curdles my blood and makes my bones shake.

And I, mere mortal that I am, am in love with Her.

Hymn to Hekate

O my Goddess
⸻either’s beloved
⸻a mine and mine
⸻let me climb worlds’ heights
⸻so high
⸻I see glimpses of Your
⸻dark mind
⸻and blinding light
⸻not wallow in the mud
⸻as now
⸻as swine

O my Lady
⸻let me be Your mystic
⸻Thine
⸻see hear at times at least
⸻You alone
⸻without interference of the
⸻clamorous rabble
⸻of lesser spirits
⸻of humankind’s psychic whine

O Hekate
⸻beauty endless and fine
⸻let me be Your horse and You my
⸻Rider spurring with beauty and terror
⸻see flakes of Your infinity
⸻contain in me
⸻flakes of You my Mystery
⸻and no need to flee
⸻the pressure
⸻the closer intensity
⸻as ruminants at approach of the lion

Rachel Izabella P.
May 25, 2013

Her Sacred Fires: Not For Me

I just performed the Rite of Her Sacred Fires, the rite written by Sorita d’Este and performed by probably thousands world-wide.

I suppose I’m expected to enthuse over it, but I’m not going to. I found myself underwhelmed. The from the heart prayers I offered afterwards had more power in them, for me. —What did I expect? The ritual is rather lovely. But I felt no call to join in with those thousands also performing the ritual tonight, even though I gave it my best shot. Perhaps not a very good shot, but the best I have within me. I did not feel, with one exception, my Goddess’s presence when I performed the rite. Perhaps I missed the target.

I can’t criticize the Covenant of Hekate. I know very little about it. I have some dear friends who are members, friends who know what they’re about. The fault, if there is a fault, lies within my own wayward heart.

I felt power however in these voces magicae: Askei Kataskei Erōn Oreōn Iōr Mega Samnyēr Baui (thrice) Phobantia Semnē. Just like there’s power in the Ephesia Grammata (Ephesian Words): Askion Kataskion Lix Tetrax Damnameneus Aision. I need to source the former — the voces magicae used in the Rite of Her Sacred Fires — in the Greek Magical Papyri. I think they’re found there though I could be wrong. They won’t be difficult to source regardless. I did indeed feel a connection, feel something click, when I repeated those words, only I have no idea what they actually do. Perhaps I can do something on my own with them when I find them in context and attempt to get a clue as to their function within the context of the rite containing them. The latter after all, the stand-alone Ephesia Grammata, is/are a powerful protective charm if uttered with enough Will-Desire-Belief, and also repeatedly, like a mantra.

Which brings me to the crux of the matter. Did I simply not invest enough Will-Desire-Belief in tonight’s Rite of Her Sacred Fires? Doubtless I did not. And doubtless I’ll remain unable to do so.

The Covenant of Hekate has its place, but I’m not a joiner. I’d planned on joining, but I posted somewhere about not joining any societies except the most informal. I have no idea how informal the Covenant of Hekate is, and not knowing I’ll not apply to join.

My heart’s just not in it, nor I think shall it ever be.

Those of you reading this who are members of the Covenant of Hekate, please don’t be offended by my words here. I mean no harm. As I said, the fault, if any, lies within me alone.

I’ve always been a loner. I’m proud to be one because I’m proud to be me. Too proud? Maybe. But I won’t change. I don’t know that I can, having no desire to do so.

Devoted

All the materia magica I needed to pursue Quimbanda further arrived in the mail yesterday.

I’m abandoning Quimbanda.

Last I mentioned it on this blog I said of Quimbanda that I’d been on the verge of abandoning it but had changed my mind. Now there’ll be no more waffling.

Yesterday, after a session of meditation where I successfully rested in pure awareness for twenty minutes, I asked myself: How will I feel following the way of Quimbanda? My stomach sank, I felt the anxiety in the solar plexus and my belly. It felt so bad I had to think for several moments of something that makes me happy and “copy and paste” the physical sensation of that emotion everywhere I had that feeling of disappointment and anxiety.

After I didn’t feel so wretched any more I asked myself: How will I feel completely devoted to Hekate as my sole Patroness? And feelings of peace and calm and quiet happiness arose in me. —These I allowed to persist.

I did a divination. Will I be happier if I abandon Quimbanda and worship Hekate as my sole Patroness?  Interpreted as past-present-future I got a chart that I read as follows. Before, I was trapped, in a prison. Now I am experiencing great good fortune due to inner strength and just fighting the good fight through to the end. This figure means Yes in no uncertain terms. In the future I will lose & experience no more my state of imprisonment.

I generated one more figure: it was one that’s favorable only for endings. My feelings were not deceiving me.

Quimbanda is fascinating, fun and scary. It’s also an interference with my real spiritual vocation.

Any Deity worth worshiping is both infinite and a Mystery. Hekate is both. She is fascinating but She is not scary. She is vastly more terrifying than all the Legions of Hell. I am in love with Her and have been for going on five years.

If I can horse just a tiny flake of Hekate’s infinity — and I have done — then why in fuck’s name should I bother worshiping far, far lesser spirits? Because it’s just so cool? Because Neopaganism in America is a mess that can’t get its shit together? Because Lucifer paid me a visit?

No. Not nearly good enough.

Hekate is my Goddess. She is my one true and unquestionable Love. I have simply acknowledged that I am what I always was.

I am Devoted.

The Hekatean Prayer and Ritual Book: Call for Submissions

Spreading the word about the Hekatean Prayer and Ritual Book. I hope some of you can submit something.

Feral Druidry: The Crossroads Companion

Since doing Hoofprints in the Wildwood, I’ve been wanting to do a devotional for Hekate. However, there are so many Devotionals out there for her already most notably by Avalonia and B.A. So I’ve decided not to do a devotional proper, but rather a Hekatean Prayer and Ritual book, which I think there is much need for. This will be a book of prayers and rituals only, with images for meditational use. The idea being something you can take with you, read some prayers out of in either ritual or just thumb through reading prayers and looking at artwork on the fly for inspiration. The focus of this book is really prayer and ritual, so there will be no essays or poetry or the normal fare you would see in a standard devotional. I personally think something like this would be a boon to the community, not only to help new…

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My Lady, That Night, A Prayer: A Hymn to Hekate

O my Lady
if I have ever poured red wine
ever given you dark wine and honey
milk and honey
bread and garlic cloves
at three way crossroads on New Moon night
hear my hymn
do not spit out my prayer

O my Lady, You are not so very distant
but I am so small
my mind my soul too small for You
and when I tried to horse You
late that night
I tried to swallow the Moon
to swallow the burning Stars
the whole of grey Night
to breathe the Aether the Gods breathe only
the Oceans filled with bitter salt and all of
Chthon deep and mineral
filled with dead men’s bones
turned to stained dirt
turned to lost memories
and my lips spoke strange words
riddles of matters too high
and like a child
a small child
my nose bled and would not stop and
still You poured into me
a river
into a thimble till I fled
till I had to flee

O my Lady
I do not regret our closer contact
my hubris holy and dark
You hinted
or only I guessed
what You want
in enigmas and
so darkly
I do not understand
not comprehend that night
that reflected
in the quaint and faded mirror of all of me

O my Lady
I who am too small to hold
the merest flake of Your Power
I fear I am too small to do
the smallest flake of Your Will

And I rejoice and I pray

Hekate
Whose womb is armored in serpent scales
Surrounded by ghosts and ravenous Spirits
Who grasp the Key to All and
are Mistress of the Magical Quintessence
You my Tender and Terrible
One
O my Lady
Source and End of All
Hekate Soteira
World Tree and
Anima Mundi

I pray You
enlarge me

O my Lady

Hekate

Hekate

It is false that the grave has no victory
It is true that death has no sting
For I will lead you to live again
To the grave again
And to die

All the times of your darkest darks
The kill of the most poignant of pains
If then you dared some
Wildest gnosis
Acceptance equal to these and more
That was My tenderest embrace

Then and now are all spaces
All places turned liminal strange
Between the proton and neutron
Betwixt the quark and the quark
I arise without end
I am the world’s bones and
I am the tree of life and death
Axis Mundi is My name

I am the blade sharp to divide
Flesh from flesh
Flesh from soul
Soul from spirit
These too are roads and crossroads
I cut them
I breathe free for
I am the breath of the world
Say my name
It is Anima Mundi

Every flaw in every space
Every sob of every pain
I am hidden there for
My name is Most Lovely
And
Allwheres I dwell so allwheres is beauty and
The heart of all is beauty
Thus all things are redeemed so
Say my name for
It is Savior

I am the keeper of the four way crossroads for
I am the Goddess of death
I am the keeper of the three way crossroads for
Death is but an in between
You do not know
It is again to seek My beauty
That you awake again
So say My name, say it now
It is Psychopompos
My name, sing it from your broken hearts
It is Resurrection

It is for You we wake
That we taste again of beauty
Serpent flower in the heart of fear
Beauty whelming all but beauty
Tender Girl
Infinite Goddess
Our tears stream for You
Our sobs sing for You
We love you unbeknownst but
Else would be but empty world
Therefore we psalm Your name
A final time
Trembling and fanatic

Hekate Creatrix

—-Rachel Izabella Parker, 17 aprilis 2013

Lines for Hekate

I wrote this fragment of a poem in one go at about 3am this morning. I was crying for my Goddess, needing Her, tears trailing down my face.

I’m not going to revise, improve or finish it. I’m going to preserve it as a waymark of those hours.

~~~~~~~~~

Lines for Hekate

O secret bride of those whose path is loneliness,
Thee I seek, Thee I sense, in shared All-Oneliness.
Gorgo, Mormo, Moon of a Thousand Faces,
From Whom names drop like leaves:
Favor me with the pleasure of Thy Presence.

Most Beautiful One, hidden in every horror,
Come tenderly, O Kindly One, soothing my seething furor.
Gorgo, Mormo, Moon of a Thousand Faces,
For Thy beauty we depart: for the same, we return: Oh my Goddess,
Favor me now with the pleasure of Thy Presence.

Thou Whose womb is covered in serpent scales, Most Tender One,
The Sun is a strong fine God: O save me from the Burden of the Sun.
Gorgo, Mormo, Moon of a Thousand Faces,
I am not worthy: I cannot attain Thee: still,
Favor me now with the pleasure of Thy Presence.

Kiss me upon my mouth, Hekate, Hekate: empower me,
Thou delighting in flow of dark purple blood, let it shower me.
Gorgo, Mormo, Moon of a Thousand Faces,
Thou serpent-haired and serpent-girt: I cry for Thee only as Lover:
O favor me quickly, quickly, with the pleasure of Thy Presence.

………………………………………..