Glenna Turner, priestess of NROOGD, said, “Following traditions may be a mistake. It's more important for the Craft to answer needs we have today.” And Tony Andruzzi, a Sicilian Witch from Chicago, mused, “Yes, my mother taught me a few things. But maybe she got them out of the blue! Who knows if she got these things from
her
grandmother. The important thing is that I'm
working
with a fragment. I'm not just accepting it, putting it in my pocket, burning a candle to it, or wearing it around my neck on a gold chain.”
One of the most impressive statements came from the late Gwydion Pendderwen, songwriter, bard, and Craft priest. He said, “We make up all of our grandmothers. We make them up whether or not we actually had a grandmother who taught us anything or not. It doesn't matter whether the grandmother was a physical reality, or a figment of our imagination. One is subjective, one is objective, but we experience both.”
Gwydion said that he did not feel the Craft was ever a single entity. “What has come down is so minimal, it could be thrown out without missing it. Objectively, there's very little that has gone from ancient to modern in direct succession. But subjectively, an awful lot is ancient. It is drawn from ancient materials. It represents archetypal patterns.”
As I talked to Gwydion and heard him sing some of his songs, I remembered the long piece by him that had appeared in Hans Holzer's
The Witchcraft Report
67
several years ago. It was on the traditions of Coeden Brith, the two hundred acres of land held by the Neo-Pagan group Nemeton. I had read those pages and had known from my own experiences there that parts of the essay were pure fantasy. “What about that fantasy?” I asked. “What do you feel about that essay now? Does it bother you? Was it a lie?”
Gwydion replied, “Yes, I wrote a fantasy. It was a desire. It was something I wished would happen. Perhaps that's why there are so many of these fantasies running around in the Craft today, and people trying to convince other people that they're true. It is certainly so much more pleasant and âmagical' to say âIt happened this way,' instead of âI researched this. I wrote these rituals. I came up with this idea myself.'
“So I sent it to Hans Holzer and I didn't think he would print it without checking the facts. And then I began to regret it. And when it came out, I regretted it again. And I began to get inquiries from sincere people and from friends.
“Then I had a long talk with Aidan Kelly. I told him I shouldn't have done itâthat Holzer was a fool and a bad journalist for not even checking the facts. But then Aidan said a most extraordinary thing. He said it didn't really matter because the
vision
I had had was a valid Craft tradition.”
About thirty years ago, the sociologist Marcello Truzzi wrote:
Basically, witchcraft constitutes a set of beliefs and techniques held in secret which the novice must obtain from someone familiar with them. The normal, traditional means for obtaining such information is through another witch who knows these secrets. Traditionally, this can be done through initiation into an existing witch coven or by being told the secrets of the Craft by an appropriate relative who is a witch. Any other means of obtaining the secrets of witchcraft, such as through the reading of books on the subject or obtaining a mail-order diploma, is not a traditional means and is not considered to be legitimate by traditional witches. Because most witches today have not been traditionally initiated into the Craft, they often create other links to the orthodox as a means of gaining legitimacy. Thus, many of today's witches claim hereditary descent from some ancient witch or claim to be the current reincarnations of past witches.
In general, ascertaining the source of legitimacy in witchcraft groups is very difficult, especially since almost all claim ancient, traditional origins. However, intense investigation usually reveals that the group's secret sources are not as claimed.
68
But just a few years later one priestess told me, “It's better to get training from experienced people, but lacking that, we just stole it out of every book we could!” And another Witch observed, “Recently, I've begun to see personalities which were once dominant in the Craft recognizing their own inadequacies, being able to admit them and become students again.”
Traditionally, religions with indefensible histories and dogmas cling to them tenaciously. The Craft avoided this through the realization, often unconscious, that its real sources lie in the mind, in art, in creative work. Once people became comfortable in the Craft, the old lies began to dissolve. That they did so quickly is an insight into the flexibility of Wicca.
In a brief period many Craft leaders did complete turnarounds. Perhaps the most noteworthy of these leaders is Raymond Buckland, who, along with his wife, Rosemary, brought the Gardnerian tradition to the United States in the 1960s. In 1971 Buckland published
Witchcraft from the Inside
. Speaking as a Witch, he snubbed all “homemade” traditions:
It says much for the success of Gerald Gardner in obtaining recognition for the Craft as a religion, for its imitators are those who, unable to gain access to a coven, have decided to start their own. These do-it-yourself “witches” would, on the face of it, seem harmless but on closer scrutiny are not so. They are causing considerable confusion to others who, seeking the true, get caught up in the false. The majority of these latter-day “witches” have usually read, or heard of, at least two booksâGardner's
Witchcraft Today
and Leland's
Aradia
. From these they pick out as much information as they feel is valid and make up whatever is missing. . . .
Why do people start such “covens”? Why not wait and search? For some it is just that they have no patience. They feel so strongly for the Craft that they
must
participate in some way. By the time they eventually do come in contact with the true Craft it is too late.
69
A mere two years later Buckland, in conflict with his own tradition, his marriage broken, created a new traditionâSeax Wicca or Saxon Wicca, a tradition that would be accessible to anyone who opened his new book,
The Tree
(1974). He now believed that there were many valid paths and that he had been guilty of a limited view “in earlier days.” Writing in
Earth Religion News,
Buckland said, “While others fight over which is the oldest tradition, I claim mine as the youngest!”
70
And when
The Tree: The Complete Book of Saxon Witchcraft
appeared, it contained these words:
Those searching for the Craft
can
have ready access to at least one branch, or tradition, of it. . . . With this, and the explanatory material, it is now possible to do what I just said, above, cannot generally be done: to initiate yourself as a Witch, and to start your own Coven.
71
As Buckland later developed it, Seax Wicca became an accessible tradition available to anyone, and it was the first book of public Craft rituals to appear since Lady Sheba had published what were essentially (with a few modifications and a number of omissions) the Gardnerian rituals. Sheba had said the Goddess told her to do it. Her action was greeted with intense anger by many Witches, particularly Gardnerians. Reaction to Buckland's action ranged from pleasure (expressed by those who had fruitlessly searched for admittance into an existing tradition) to indifference (by most others).
Buckland wrote in
Earth Religion News
that the new tradition was created as an answer to internal conflicts in the Craft. Since most Wiccans were “tradition-oriented,” he had given his tradition some historical background, a Saxon background. But: “By this I most emphatically do
not
mean that there is any claim to its liturgy being of direct descent from Saxon origins! As stated above, it is brand new.”
72
Buckland was just one example of the trend away from musty old Books of Shadow and dubious claims of ancient lineage. It could be said that he was following the most authentic and hallowed Gardnerian traditionâstealing from any source that didn't run away too fast.
5.
The Craft Today
Validity
I know of one instance where, some years ago, a person obtained the Book of
Shadows of an existing coven after he had been turned down for membership in
that coven. Based upon that Book of Shadows, he then established himself as a
Witch, performed initiations and the people he initiated went forth into the
world and formed their own covens, . . . initiating others in turn. If the first
person of this pyramid were not “initiated” does this make all of the initiations
invalid? I don't think so. Despite the original fraud those people went through
the ceremony with sincerity and apparently received the illumination that comes
with true initiation.
Â
IF ANYONE can become a member of the Wicca by reading books, if people can create their own “tradition,” if one comes to the Craft out of a sense of homecoming, if the Craft works because of the archetypal content of the human mind, is there such a thing as a “valid” tradition or an “invalid” one? Is any tradition that
feels
right appropriate? How does one decide on validity in such a religion? Does one need an initiation to become a Witch? Here is a true story that may serve to illustrate this problem and provide a key to its solution.
More than thirty years ago, only two years after the beginning of my own Craft journey, I went to England and looked up Alex and Maxine Sanders. Alex Sanders had founded the Alexandrian tradition of Wicca. He claimed that in 1933, at the age of seven, he found his grandmother standing nude in a circle in the kitchen. She then initiated him into the Craft. An account of this tale can be found in June Johns's
King of the Witches
and also in Stewart Farrar's
What Witches Do.
2
Alex and Maxine Sanders became celebrities in London. Their pictures appeared in dozens of popular books on the occult. Many of the Alexandrian rituals have been published, and they so resemble the Gardnerian rituals that Alex's story of their origin is often questioned.
At the time I visited London, in the summer of 1973, Alex had left Maxine and she was running the coven alone, as well as conducting a training group and several occult classes. I called her up with some trepidation. I was newly initiated into the Gardnerian tradition and tended to tread softly in strange pathways. I told Maxine I was “in the Craft” and she quickly invited me to attend a circle that night. I expected her to check me out and was surprised that she did not. She asked the name of my “tradition,” but little else.
I put my athame and a necklace in my bag and proceeded to the Sanders home. One entered by way of a long foyer that was quite dark. A rather prim woman in a black dress asked me my purpose. I told her I had been invited by Maxine to attend the circle, that I was an initiate from another tradition, and that I was here to see Maxine. “Maxine is very busy now,” the woman told me brusquely, “but just go back and change in the loo.” I was also informed that I, as a guest, would not have to pay the normal fee of fifty pence to attend the circle.
I was beset by a variety of strong emotions. Here I was, a stranger to this Wiccan circle of another tradition, invited by this priestess who, when I arrived, did not even have the time to greet me and take me in hand. And the money . . . that seemed a violation of every Craft principle I had been taught. I had brought food and wine to many circles, but had never seen a coin change hands. But, undaunted, I went into the bathroom and took off my clothes. The Alexandrians, like the Gardnerians, worked “skyclad.”
As I undressed, a woman opened the bathroom door and entered. Let us call her Jane. She is the real heroine of our story. Jane easily weighed over two hundred pounds. She was young, perhaps eighteen. As she undressed, it became painfully obvious that she was nervous and scared and shy and upset about her figure. She was so heavy that her stomach hung down, making her vagina invisible. Since I myself was thirty pounds overweight, her appearance, I regret to confess, cheered me immeasurably. Here was a comrade-in-arms. I suddenly felt calm, cool, an experienced Craft priestess, a woman of the world.
Jane told me that tonight was her initiation into the Craft. She was excited and nervous. “Do you know what's to happen?” she asked me. She had been to three previous circles and a certain number of classes. I told her that I was an initiate of a tradition similar to this one and that she should not be worried; she would have a beautiful experience. Together we walked out of the bathroomâboth of us completely nude except for a necklace. I had a sheathed athame in my hand. Together, we walked into this strange and darkened hall.
Everyone else had disappeared, except for the prim woman in black. “Where do we go?” I asked.
“Stay here a minute,” said the woman.
Then, two young men appeared. They had taken off their shirts, but they were wearing pants. They blindfolded Jane and bound her hands behind her back. In this way, according to the Alexandrian tradition, she would be brought into the circle. I waited. “Who's the High Priestess?” one of the boys asked the woman in black. At this point I began to feel a sense of unease. Wasn't Maxine Sanders the priestess? And where
was
Maxine, anyway?
In response to the man's question the lady in black turned to him, pointed to me (standing nude in the darkness), and said, “She is.”
“What?” I said, not believing her words.