See the preceding part of the essay if you missed it Analysis of Non-Christian Elements and Their Integration with Liber Iuratus Honorii
Though I argue for the Christian nature of Liber Iuratus Honorii, I will first address the obvious non-Christian references and elements that exist in the text. I propose that they do not take away from the Christian standing of the text but support the text and ritual system as a whole, as well as reflect the complex nature of religious thought at the time.
The majority of non-Christian elements in Liber Iuratus Honorii are drawn from Jewish sources; some of these elements are borrowed and adapted, while others are taken completely without any effort to synthesize them into Iuratus. One such element includes that the fact that in order to obtain divine vision the creation of a seal is required, on which the operator writes the “Shemhamphoras” around the edge . The Shem ha-Mephorash is a Jewish name for YHWH that is recognized as being in 72 parts. To get the name one must read Shemot (Exodus) 14:19-21 in a special way which reveals 72 three letter names of God . This name was very important in the study of the Jewish Qabalah so it initially seems an unusual inclusion in a supposedly Christian text. The use of seals and god names were a prominent part of Judaism, specifically Qabalistically inspired branches. The seal also includes other god names, some that are Christian such as Christos, Alpha and Omega; but others are Jewish again like El, Adonai, Saday, and On . Some names are even Greek like Sother, and a variety are from no easily identifiable source . If the names came from Greek or Hebrew roots then, by the time they have reached the manuscript they have been corrupted beyond my ability to decipher, and others assert the names are “deformed Greek and Hebrew” though some appear to be “pure gibberish.” This use of Hebrew names is a pattern that continues throughout the text. In one case a Hebrew name is used, and then clarified “IF ADONAY, that is to say, almighty God ” which is an unusual moment, as if the inclusion of Adonai (Adonay) was important, but the reader being Christian, and not Jewish, would not understand the use of the name.
Seal of the Angels of Saturn. All images taken from http://www.esotericarchives.com
The integration and use of Jewish sources is more complex than just the use of names of god. The text is perfused with angels. The Qabalah had a large proliferation of angels and angel names; in fact the Shem ha-Mephorash is sometimes interpreted to be 72 angel names. While the Catholic Church at that time recognized very few named or individual angels, and as Liber Iuratus Honorii mentions well over three hundred , it is reasonable that the author would have to borrow some angels to have such a large amount. It is more than just angel names that are borrowed; when the months are listed they are given Hebrew names instead of their Latin names, as are the planets. In Christianity at the time angels were largely conceptualized as impersonal and interchangeable, with no distinguishing features between each other (save Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel), and they were undeniably good. Yet not only are a great variety of angels addressed by name in Liber Iuratus Honorii, but there are also differences recognized between them. For example the angels of Saturn in Liber Iuratus Honorii are “long and slender, pale or yellow” and angels of the Sun are “great and large, full of all gentleness.” The angels of each planet —of which several are named— are distinct from each other, they perform different tasks, their personalities are different, and they appear differently from one another. This was not a conceptualization of angels that had root in Christianity yet, but was a common factor in Jewish views of angels. The angels of the Sun are said to “give love and favor and riches to a man, and power, also … to give dews, herbs, flowers” which could be seen as the “positive” actions one might expect from an angel, but the angels of Saturn “cause sadness, anger, and hatred” while the angels of Mars “cause and stir up war, murder, destruction, and mortality of people.” War, hatred, murder, and sadness are not the commonly accepted sphere of angels from the Christian perspective, and seems contrary to the view of angels as wholly good. Though once more if we look at the Jewish tradition we find a view of angels that fits; angels were not seen as good or evil, but their alignment was more neutral and ambiguous in many cases. Some were good, some were malicious, and many were in-between. Having angels who could do what we would consider good and evil is more in line with the contemporaneous Jewish viewpoint than the Christian one, showing where some of the framework or inspiration of the text came from.
The Construction of Christianity through Conjuration: An Exploration of the Christian and Non-Christian Elements and Nature of Liber Iuratus Honorii
Medieval Europe has an unusual class of texts known as grimoires. These books claim to grant the reader power over their material and spiritual world, by instructing how to summon angels, demons, and a variety of other spirits. What makes these texts more compelling is that they are apparently Christian in nature; their symbolism, their language, and their purpose all claim to be Christian and appropriate within the religion. Yet the concept of these books –conjuring demons and commanding them to do the bidding of the reader– seems to be non Christian. Considering the witch trials that took place in this period, religious and secular laws against the practice of magic, and the pre Christian religions of Europe, it would not be unreasonable to consider the grimoires may not have been truly be Christian. Liber Iuratus Honorii, or The Sworn Book of Honorius is one of earliest surviving grimoires, and like the rest claims a Christian heritage. This paper analyzes Liber Iuratus Honorii using links with other texts and traditions, the internal Christian elements, and the internal logic and narrative of the text to show that Liber Iuratus Honorii is a genuinely Christian text likely written by a member of the clergy who disagreed with the establishment of the Church, but not Christianity. Historical Background of Liber Iuratus Honorii Liber Iuratus Honorii attributes itself to Honorius of Thebes, son of Euclid. It is unlikely that such a figure ever existed, as grimoires are often pseudopigraphical in authorship and the name seems designed to make the reader associate the text with Euclid of geometric fame. Regardless for ease of reference, I will refer to the author of Liber Iuratus Honorii as Honorius. The earliest surviving copy of the text dates to the fourteenth century, but dates as early as the first half of the thirteenth century have been argued . Dating the text is difficult as it may actually have been composed in parts, some dating to the thirteenth century, and some to the fourteenth. Though six copies of the manuscript survive, in slightly different forms, when compared to each other and by their list of chapters it seems there is not a complete copy surviving. These manuscripts are all written in Latin, and only one critical edition of a manuscript has been produced currently by Gösta Hedegård in 2002. This paper will focus on the only version of the manuscript that has been translated into English, Royal MS 17Axlii, translated around the sixteenth century, though the modern compiler notes textual deficiencies and variant readings from three other manuscripts. The text itself is divided into three or four books (depending on the manuscript), which include: a complex ritual to attain vision of the divine, rituals to attain knowledge in many fields, instructions of specific spirit conjuration, and more conjurations respectively. Other academic works have focused on the textual and religious relationships of Liber Iuratus Honorii, what influenced it and what it influences. Though these works highlight what is and is not Christian in origin in the text, they all assume the Christianity of Liber Iuratus Honorii as certain without challenging that assertion. While I do not disagree with their final position, in this paper I seek to examine and prove the Christian nature of the text, thus further supporting the study and interpretation of Liber Iuratus Honorii as a Christian document.
As some of you know I have a degree in History from a University one of the top three History programs in North America. My final thesis was on Liber Iuratus Honorii, an early grimoire.
The next several posts will be that essay. I could post it all at once, but I know how attention spans on the internet work, so I’ll break it down into more reasonably sized chunks and post it over several days. Unfortunately due to the nature of academic writing there are long thoughts and paragraphs, so there isn’t always a good place to break the essay down. Some entries will be 500 words, others a 1000. I tended to break it along themes whenever possible.
Due to being on this blog, I’ll be removing the footnotes, because they’re a pain in the arte to put onto wordpress, but I will include all the texts I reference in the final post.
My paper is on whether or not Liber Iuratus is a Christian text or not. It claims it is, and I agree (as I’ll say in the intro), so it might seem odd to write a paper on it, but that’s how the historical process works. We can’t just accept at face value a claim in a text, so we have to evaluate it. So the paper is me breaking down the grimoire and looking for clues that really confirm or deny the Christian nature of the text. If you’re not familiar with the process it might seem odd to prove a text is telling the truth. As a historian we can’t just look at what a text says, we have to understand why it would say that, who benefits from it, why has it survived, and what does it tell us. The most fascinating element of history is taking something minor, and fleshing it out to see what it means. Sure, Liber Iuratus is a Christian grimoire, but what can we learn from it, what does it tell us about Christianity at the time, the view of the Church, the social structure of society? That’s the fun, teasing out the information.
Also, as it’s an academic paper written for a general audience of medieval historians, some of my points and explanations will seem really simple and obvious to magickal folks familiar with grimoires, but they have to be said for everyone else.
So that being said over the next several days I’ll be rolling out my posts on it.
And before it begins, since I know someone will be curious. I got an A on the paper, and my professor only challenged one of my assertions, as she felt it was too biased. It was probably my second favourite history paper to write. (My first one being the creation of the lesbian identity in Western culture due to the World Wars.)
This entry has been stewing in my head for a bit, but reading Davies’s Grimoires really brought it out to the surface.
I’d call myself a Solomonic magickian, a lot of my work revolves around the communion with spirits from grimoires in that style. Yet unlike many I don’t think I’m really “bound” to one text. Granted most of the grimoire spirits I use are from Book I of the Lemegeton, the Goetia, but my summoning circle is based on a design from the Heptameron, using Angel and Godnames I spent over two years skrying, my robes are adorned with the Shem ha’mephorash around the edge, and a variety of angelic and demonic seals on the chest and sleeves. So even though I’m Solomonic, my practice in that regard is all over the place a little.
Why? Because it works. There are some people that this boggles greatly, grimoire-purists. We’ve all seen them, people who are convinced that grimoires can’t and don’t work unless you perform everything exactly to the letter. (These are most notably though people who despite this claim lack the fame, fortune, and harem of King Solomon.)
Now, do not get me wrong, I believe grimoires should be used by the book, or as close to as possible until you are proficient with them. I wouldn’t say everything in them is absolutely necessary, but until you know how they work (and that takes experience, not educated guesses based on other systems or your intuition or lack of drive) I recommend keeping as much of the system intact as possible when you use it. Some things are most definitely symbolic I’d say, others are more relative, others might not be important at all, and some are crucial. If I gave you a recipe for amazing cookies, you shouldn’t make substitutions until you’ve made them my way and think I like my cardamom a bit too much. Follow the recipe the first several times, then you have a sense on what can be shifted.
This is where I get trapped in the middle ground. On one hand “Follow the book” on the other hand “Don’t be a slave to it.” What I wanted to address through was some of the issues with the notion of Grimoire-Purists.
Basically, why do you assume the text is right? Just because King Solomon (didn’t) write it, doesn’t mean it’s perfect. How many of us would pick up any modern occult book and say “The author is 100% right, and we have to do everything as they say or it won’t work”? If you’d do that with any magickal text I think you should re-evaluate your critical thinking skills.
As a subset of that issue, just because it is right, doesn’t mean it’s the only way it can be right. Sure, frankincense might be the right incense to summon a King of the Sun, but that doesn’t mean copal wouldn’t work, wouldn’t work just as well, or even better. Right does not have to be this binary exclusive category. Tied into this is the realism of it being 100% exclusively right. Just because my cookie recipe is awesome doesn’t mean you couldn’t make awesome cookies using a variation on my recipe. Good cookies are good cookies. One thing that came up recently in a discussion group around Solomonic magick is the necessity of wearing a belt made of lion skin. People battled back and forth on why it was or wasn’t necessary, names were called, it was the internet. I made a comment, which largely got glossed over though. Lions are going extinct, and while they’re doing better than they were 15 years ago, they’re still endangered. What happens when the last lion is killed? What happens when the last piece of lion fur deteriorates with use and age? Will these spirits then be forever beyond our ability to communicate with? It seems silly, but that’s the way some people think about it when they go hardcore grimoire-purist.
Lastly I want to question the idea of the texts being 100% right from a historian’s perspective. One of the first things I was ever taught as a historian was “Cui Bono” meaning “To whose benefit?” or “Who benefits?” Thousands, and millions of documents have been lost since humans started writing, and each one that survives there is a reason. The first question a historian asks is “Cui Bono” who benefits from this text still existing? Why was this text preserved when others weren’t? In the case of magickal and religious texts you can say belief, divine intervention, or because it works.
The trouble with this notion is not all texts were preserved on purpose, and not all were lost on purpose. For instance the autohagiography of Christina of Markyate was preserved by chance. The only known copy was in a house that caught fire, and it was one of the few texts near the window that the owner saved by throwing it out before having to flee the fire. If not for its random placement in the library we would have lost the first example of Self-Insert Biblical Fanfiction.
Did grimoires survive by luck or human choice? Well, according to Davies they survived by sheer volume. Why were there so many grimoires though? Because they were big business, forbidden texts that teach you to find treasure and get laid, who wouldn’t want that. The trouble is twofold though, not every person who manually copied the texts, or later every printer, had access to the grimoires, and eventually if there are only two or three or whatever grimoires, soon enough everyone who wants them, will have them, or know how to do what it is them. What is the solution to these problems? Make up grimoires, and that’s exactly what happened. As an idealist you can look at the similarities to grimoires and say that shows a continuation of thought and practice, and to some extent that might be right. What it probably shows more often is plagiarism. You own two grimoires and a book on herbs. Well include the prayers and circle from one text, the spirits from the second text, and mix in the herbs from the third, then make up a story about how some great mystic wrote it, it was found somewhere amazing, and boom, next grimoire craze.
Now the tricky part is, just because its random stuff cobbled together doesn’t mean it doesn’t work (doesn’t mean it will either). Here is the thing though, we know virtually nothing about these grimoires and their creation, we have myths, and ideas, and historical theories, but we don’t know. For all we know the Heptemeron or the Lemegeton were just forgeries crafted by a bored innkeeper looking to make some extra money, and by fluke they became popular, printed in large numbers, and got preserved.
So if you’re considering being a grimoire purist, think about the issues, rationally and historically with that, and see where it takes you. Remember, I do advocate trying to be as much by the book as possible, especially until you’ve worked with the system, but don’t assume that everything in it is 100% right, and that right information is exclusive of all other.
Grimoires: A History of Magic Books – Owen Davies
Oxford, 2010, 368pp., 9780199590049
If you’re an academically and/or history driven ceremonial magickian, then Grimoires is a book you really need for you collection.
After reading a few reviews about this book, I feel I have to make one point clear: This is an academic text, this is not a book about magick, it is not how to understand or use the grimoires, it is a look at the texts, the social influences on them, historical documents, and how they have changed over time. If you want an overview of grimoires for your magickal practice, look elsewhere.
Davies covers the history of grimoires, going as far back as we can and still understand the texts as grimoires, arguably sometime around the BCE/CE crossover, up until the present day. Along this journey he touches on a variety of factors that influenced the grimoires. It would be too easy to conceive of them as something isolated in the field of magick, but they’re not. Grimoires grew and were shaped by pressures from the Church, by popular fiction, by technology, cultural exchanges, and perhaps something spiritual. “They not only reflected the globalization of the world but helped shape it.” (5) Davies doesn’t write as a magickian, doesn’t write as a believer, but as a historian analyzing the texts and the histories, and that’s to the benefit of this book, otherwise it would be too easy to assume lines of thought persisted only due to magickal reasons.
When we think of grimoires we tend to think of the same handful over and over, but what really intrigued me was how many grimoires were identified and created in the Middle Ages. All of the text was interesting, but the interplay of the grimoires and the medieval Church were really fascinating. Davies covered how various grimoires survived, but more importantly why they were used, and how they were viewed. You could see some of the push and pull around the Church and the grimoires, as both an organization threatened by their existence, and yet obviously making use of them. In that same period Davies makes a case for the “democratizing” magick through the printing press.
Another plus for the book is that lot of magickal histories tend to drop off in the Renaissance, pick up with the Golden Dawn, maybe address the OTO, and then jump to the present. Davies on the other hand covered all that time between, as grimoires flowed into North America, becoming pulp books sold everywhere, in mail order catelogues even, and how they were a part of rural American cultures right up into living memory. This type of continuous thread of thought and practice is just what he traced from the earliest records, through the Dark Ages, into the Renaissance, to the present.
The data itself in this book is amazing, unfortunately Davies has a habit of throwing in random knowledge which seems less to illustrate a point, and more to illustrate his knowledge of something obscure. At first these little side-trips were interesting, but by the end of the book these details felt like they were detracting from the big pictures. When discussing an interesting text, there will often be an inclusion of one of the more unusual spells, even when it is irrelevant to the discussion of the text itself.
As someone who recently finished a university degree in History, with my final paper on Liber Iuratus Honorii, I found this book an excellent resource for creating the context and background for my paper. As a ceremonialist magickian I find this book invaluable to help me centre my practices both in their own magickal tradition, as well as a historical reality.
So last time I rambled on the importance of specific languages in calculating the name of an angel. It had a lot of open-ended and circular problems. Are languages important, why, and which ones? It led to some interesting discussion in comments, twitter, and an email. (At first I was confused how this person got my email, until I remembered I put it on my About page, just so people could get in contact with me without having to post a comment. I guess my brain is too full remembering The Raven and Pi to 23 digits to pay attention to what I do with my blog.) This is more of me working out my thoughts in writing, and hoping for some good ideas.
Now the process of calculating an angels name surely complicates matter and if you just stick with already named angels and demons that will make it much better. I remember when I first got into spirit work I had this strong instinct that by knowing the name of a spirit I had influence over it, by knowing their Name I could control them. Over years I found this idea represented in Babylonian/Akkadian/Sumerian magick, in Egyptian magick, western Ceremonial Magick, even in Vedic and Buddhist magick. Names have Power. Along with this is the parallel idea that Sigils/Seals have the same control/influence. Simply I’d say a name is auditory and a sigil is visual but they are the same thing.
Traditions may argue how much power and influence the name or symbol gives you, but they largely agree that they do. So that makes this a lot simpler than calculating a name, here you have the name provided for you, and a seal, and that makes it simple… as long as you never look at another text. When I received my Goetia of Dr. Rudd I was surprised by how many of the names and seals were close but not the same as my Mathers version. I had come to understand a lot of this magick through the doctrine of names. But what did it mean when Halphas/Malthus and Raum have their names and seals rendered differently? If my power over Malthus or at least my ability to contact or communicate with em is based upon my possession of eir seal and name how did I accomplish anything if I had it wrong? I can’t reach you if I dial the wrong number, can you reach a spirit with the wrong name/seal? This preoccupied me more than some people’s focus and questioning of the inclusion/absence of the Shem ha’mephorash angels.
I was able to wrap myself around this, and that became less of a concern until I realized it wasn’t just names and seals changing, but spirits were being stolen, or split, and combined. This opens up a magickal can of worms on its own, but I want to focus on names here. If the name is the connection and control of a spirit, what happens when a name of one spirit gets applied to another apparently unrelated entity? Or more curious to me, when a spirit’s name and existence was completely a mistake? Halphas above is a good example, Halphas is the 38th spirit of the Goetia and Malphas is the 39th and they share similar abilities and may have been a scribal error initially. Or Berith the 28th spirit of the Goetia whose name is actually the Hebrew term for the covenant between YHWH and the people of Israel (Belanger 70) and was probably included in Christian occult texts because they knew this “Berith” had power, but didn’t know who (or what) it was, so obviously a demon.
So where do these entities and power come from? Is there something inherent in the word and what it represents? While not a demon the covenant between YHWH and the Israelites is arguably a powerful thing (if you believe it) and maybe the name taps into that? Maybe it’s the collective attention (fear) of generations of priests and magickians that give these names and seals form and force, even if they’re drifting off of the original. But how does that apply when the name of someone gets applied to someone else, or a name from nothing but a mistake? Is this an issue that transcends the language issue? Absolutely but it is the naming that has me wonder, because if names and seals matter, then how come they work when they’re wrong?
Again I have no answers to offer, but in traditions that value the power of names and seals, how can we reconcile the fact that these change, or are added, misappropriated, or scribal errors? I’ve been leaning toward the idea that it isn’t what you use, but the process, but I’m still working some of that out in my life and in my head.
Source:
Belanger, Michelle. Dictionary of Demons. Llewellyn, 2010. Print.
Chöd Practice in the Bön Tradition: Tracing the origins of chöd (gcod) in the Bön tradition, a dialogic approach cutting through sectarian boundaries – Alejandro Chaoul, Forewards by Yongdzin Lopon Tenzin Namdak and Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche
Snow Lion. 2009. 116 pp. with appendices. 9781559392921.
Chöd is a fairly obscure practice from Tibetan Buddhism and it also appears within Bön, the pre-Buddhist “shamanic” religion of Tibet. It is generally conceived as a Buddhist practice, framed in Buddhist imagery and philosophy, and the mythology places it firmly within the realm of Buddhism by use of its founder Machik Labdron, a Tibetan Buddhist saint. Yet in Bön the philosophy and mythology are a bit different though the practice is largely similar. So where did chöd come from?
Chaoul makes, what he believes, to be the first real study of chöd within Bön tradition. The book based upon his MA thesis at the University of Virginia, where he tried to find the interconnection between the two chöd practices. He did not focus on trying to find an origin for chöd but instead focused on how the practice has been shared and exchanged and developed between the two traditions. One tradition was not viewed as more legitimate or superior, instead Chaoul states “that the beauty of this rich, intricate, and often misunderstood practice, is to be found in the coexistence of many different views, which can expand beyond the traditional horizons delimited by social, academic, and sectarian boundaries.” (4)
I find this a curious and interesting case; as a perfect example of what he was studying Chaoul included in the book the sadhana called in English “The Laughter of the Dakinis” which is a sadhana within my lineage as well, even though his source is Bön and my lineage is Buddhist. So there I find not just the general sharing, but a specific ritual within both traditions. Personally it was a great book to read because of my lineage, my lama taught me (and understands this) through the Buddhist perspective and it was great to see the other, less common, perspective.
In fact in my initial chöd training I learnt that chöd had incorporated aspects from Bön, as it had from tantra and sutra traditions and even Hinduism, but I was unaware that there was a full chöd tradition within Bön. Most of this book made sense, and I could see the exchanges and changes, and some parts had me really wondering. For example when describing the tools the damaru (drum) is described as being made from two skulls (53) whereas I was taught, quite emphatically, that the damaru is to be acacia wood and the skull drums are from an unrelated tradition but due to similar appearance get associated with chöd, but should never be used for chöd. (Sidenote: The damaru shown on the cover is quite clearly not made from skulls) Things like this intrigue me, I want to learn is this a difference between Bön and Buddhist chöd, or is this lineage specific and my lama was speaking from his bias?
This book is highly academic, as mentioned it was based upon an MA thesis, it has 299 endnotes (to help make the point), so if you’re looking for an easy read, this isn’t it. This book is not appropriate for someone curious about chöd or looking to learn it, too much of the knowledge, history, mythology, and philosophy is chöd specific. For those studying chöd the complete sadhana of “The Laughter of the Dakinis” is included and “intended for use by those who have received transmission and explanation from an authentic lineage holder” (69) and if you are a chödpa (Buddhist or Bönpo) with an academic or bookworm leaning, this book is an excellent read and resource.
The Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned – Michelle Belanger
Llewellyn. 2010. 362 pp. with appendices. 9780738723068. For the sake of transparency before I start this review I will admit to two reasons why I could be biased toward the book. 1. Michelle is a friend of mine. 2. Jackie, the very talented artist who did the alphabet art and several seals and pieces of art within the book, is also a friend or lab partner. Of course people who know me, know I’m not exactly easy on most of my friends…
From Aariel to Zynextyur (is he next to your what?) this book has a listing of over 1,500 demons from the grimoiric tradition. This book is an amazing wealth of information on the entities within. Michelle worked strictly from an academic perspective; personal experiences and ideas do not enter into the text, only what information Michelle could dig up from the grimoires. Dig up is a great way to put it, Michelle went through an extensive process of several years of cataloguing these demons and searching for more information, other translations, older manuscripts. The common and popular texts like the Lemegaton and the Book of Abramelin were used, as well as more obscure texts like Liber Juratus Honorii, Caelestis Hierarchia, and Liber de Angelis.
“This book is not intended to be a how-to book on grimoiric magick” (10) instead it is as the title says a dictionary of names that have appeared in various texts. Names, ranks, and powers are given, along with much more. The entries on a demon let the reader know what grimoire they appear in and in many cases the several grimoires they have lent their names too, as well as information like what their name may be derived and distorted from as well as showing how some demons are most likely the same figure but over the course of years scribal errors have pushed their names further apart. Michelle pieces together part of the puzzle of grimoires, by analyzing names and lack of names in different texts Michelle attempts to establish a connection and timeline between the various books. Interspersed with the different entries are small articles by Michelle and Jackie about various relevant topics to the text, such as the scribal process involved in medieval grimoires, the history of Jewish appropriation in Christian mysticism, and comparing different lists of what demon rules what directions.
While most of the book is written in a straight forward manner Michelle was not above the occasional humorous observation. “From the profusion of [love] spells in all the magickal texts, it would seem that practitioners of the black arts had a very difficult time find a date in the Middle Ages” (15) or pointing out that Pist, who helps you catch a thief, has a name that sounds like how one would feel when stolen from (247).
While reading it I only noted one thing that seemed off in that Michelle attributed Mather’s translation of The Sacred Mage of Abramelin the Mage to a 15th century manuscript, when I have always seen the French manuscript dated to the 18th century. All in all I was greatly pleased and impressed with the effort, resources, and scholarship Michelle put into this book. While not a practical how-to guide, this book is an invaluable resource of names and histories for those interested in the grimoiric tradition. I felt the plot was a bit dry, but it had a wicked cast of characters.
Also for those wanting a related, but simpler text, I recommend you check out Michelle and Jackie’s D is for Demon. It is a delightful (not for) children’s book of rhymes leading you through 26 demons. I, of course, got a copy for my two-year old niece to make sure she is brought up right.
Hundred Thousand Rays of the Sun: The Sublime Life and Teachings of a Chöd Master – H. E. Lama Tsering Wangdu, translated and edited by Joshua Waldman & Lama Jinpa
Lulu. 2008. 213pp. 9780557004096.
Finding and reading this book was an unusual and humorous event for me, my lama would probably read into it more -that I’m on the right path- I’ll just say it happened. So I saw the cover of this book from a distance and my first thought was that it looked like the various covers and handouts created by Lama Jinpa, only when I looked closer did I realize it was about our Lama and Lama Jinpa himself had helped with the book. That is all I needed to decide to get the book.
This book is an autohagiography of H.E. Lama Tsering Wangdu, a beautiful and gentle soul, as well as a wise and forceful chödpa. This tale follows him from the events of his crazy wisdom life from birth to the present day, including a meta-story section about being approached by Joshua Waldman to write the text.
Now as someone recognized as a master of his tradition it should not be surprising that parts of his story seem pulled straight from the tales of the Boddhisattvas and great yogis of the past. Born with a caul on his face and teaching his mother the mantra of Buddha Amitabha when first learning to talk (9) you can expect he would lead an interesting life.
In his youth he was transferred to a monastery and in his tale you see the political side of power in a temple that one might not expect. He came to age balanced between his family life and his religious life during the time of the Chinese invasion. Though lucky enough to be out of Tibet at the time you can read of the pain this caused him and his family.
Much of the book is focused on his wanderings as a chödpa performing chöd in the wilderness of Tibet, Bhutan, and India. The miracles, visions, and events he experienced were fascinating, if at times hard to believe. This section of the book proved to me very insightful because it showed me the role that chöd has in the life of the master I’m studying under; it takes it out of realm of the “classroom” and into his life.
The Dalai Lama said to Lama Wangdu “Padampa Sangye has no community of practitioners. It’s important that you establish one for the tradition” (164) and this book is part of that process as well as detailing the amazing events that led to Lama Wangdu founding his temple and then seeking out students to train in the dying practice of chöd. What surprised me is this book contains some basics on performing chöd, which in personal correspondence was warned against attempting without having received the blessing of Machik. None the less I will trust that the bare basics revealed in the text are nothing that could harm a practitioner if they did not have the blessing and that Lama Wangdu knew what he was doing.
While the story itself is quite engaging Lama Wangdu is not an author and the book doesn’t read like a story. In fact the best analogy I have is the type of rambling tale your grandparents tell you. It’s interesting, has lots of information in it, but doesn’t always follow a coherent narrative and occasionally a detail is lost. For example at one point Lama Wangdu mentions meeting his wife in a specific town, but we never hear of her or their relationship again. It took me a bit of time to get used to this style but once I did I found the cadence almost endearing.
For students of chöd and chödpas this is a great look into the life of one of the masters of our practice, but students of Buddhism in general it is still a great tale of a wandering yogi and his spiritual journey.
This article was originally written for a “flavour” article in a friend’s Dictionary of Demons book. The format of the book changed and my articles got cut, though some the information was still incorporated into the book. I’ve slightly edited it from the original format to be a bit more personal and experiential rather than just cold theory.
The Circle is probably one of the most important, and misunderstood tools in the arsenal of a magickian who works with Demons. Anyone who has flipped through a text on summoning Angels or Demons has come across a Summoning Circle, but probably with no more explanation than the method of drawing it, and that the circle is important to use.
Over the course of time the design of the circle has changed, and the importance of it has shifted. In modern magick, more than ever, the circle is being deemed unimportant, or simplistic. The Summoning Circle is being replaced by Psychic Shields, or ritual belts, or a simple visualized bubble. This shows, among other things, a tendency to interpret the Summoning Circle as merely a form of protection when dealing with Demons, when in fact it is far more than just that in some interpretations.
Before the modern interpretation of the Summoning Circle, the most common alternative Circle was published in the Mathers/Crowley translation of the Goetia. This circle was written over the image of a spiralling snake with the names of each of the Sephiroth, with the Names of Gods, Angels and Forces associated with each Sephiroth. This was an adaption, or a simplification of an earlier form of Summoning Circle that appeared in one of the earliest serving texts on Summoning Demons, the Heptameron.
In the Heptameron, which is a Grimoire that predates the Goetia, the Summoning Circle was at once the most simple and most complex form it would take. The Heptameron styled Circle was not a constant Circle like the other ones, in the sense that the design changed depending on the Season, the Day of the Week, and the Hour of the Day. In each case of Season, Day and Hour, there is a set of Angels associated with that period, and with the Heptameron system, to create the Circle, one must know and use the Names of the Angels associated with each of these periods. The belief was that each Angel had a period of power, and through working with that Angel in their ruling period, you had the ability to control the other Spirits in your work. I find there is something about skilfully directing your attention to specific forces and Spirits to create your Circle, rather than just toss out all the Names you can think of to cover everything. In magick when you have a goal you direct your attention to the appropriate entities, you don’t call upon everyone you know to help you get a job or deal with an abusive co-worker that would complicate matters.
The Construction of the Summoning Circle, when interpreted through the lens of Qabalistic Magick, revels that the Circle is much more than just a form of protection. The following section presumes the most basic familiarity with the Qabalah and the structure of the Tree of Life, which can be picked up in any introductory text. The world that we live and operate in is Malkuth, and represented by the number ten. The Sephiroth above us is Yesod, which is represented by the number nine. The Summoning Circle has an outer circle of nine feet, representing the demarcation of the world we live in, and the magical world involved in the magic. Above Yesod is Hod, which is represented by the number eight, above that Netzach represented by the number seven, then Tiphareth represented by the number six. Within the nine foot circle, there are three smaller circles, each a foot less than the one before, the magickian stands in the smallest circle that is six feet across. The magickian is in the circle of six feet, surrounded by seven, eight, nine, and lastly the entire world beyond.
It is in Tiphareth, that the human can first truly touch the Divine in a pure form. In every Sphere below Tiphareth the Divine is only accessed in a filtered form, like coloured light from a stained glass window, whereas in Tiphareth the Divine flows down uninterrupted, like the sunlight before it hits the coloured glass. By standing in the concentric circles, surrounded by the appropriate Names, the magician identifies their place in the Universe. The first Circle of Yesod separates the magical realms, from what is outside of it, Malkuth, the world of the day to day existence. In the centre circle the magician identifies their place in Tiphareth, the place of their direct connection with the Divine.
In this sense it is understood that the magician is not operating through the power of the Angels, but by knowing what Angel and God Names to surround themselves with, the magician is able to gain access and place themselves in a higher sphere, that of Tiphareth; this grants the magician access to all the power that the Divine will bestow on them. The power is no longer that of the Angels, but that of the Magickian, in their most Divine Aspect.
This Qabalistic interpretation of the Summoning Circle focuses more on the empowerment of the magickian than just their protection. This is not to deny the role of protection in the circle, but it is a manifestation of the magicians Divine Will that they are protected, rather than simply being protected and aided by outside forces. The protection the Circle offers is through the magician becoming a conscious manifestation of the Divine in this world, and it is this same access to Divinity that is what grants them the power to control the Spirits. It isn’t about threats and borrowed power, but existing in the natural order of things and helping to bring the Spirits into line with that order through the tasks they are given.
I don’t know if it was merely a confidence boost as I started to uncover this system and interpretation of the Circle but I’ve found my workings more successful and easier with this Circle. Before I felt like I was grappling with some power and trying to wrangle it to keep the Goetic entities under control, but now when I work with them it feels more relaxed, I don’t need to really control them because their obedience is a natural part of the Divine order which I’m consciously accessing. The best way of explaining it sometimes is almost Taoist in nature, that in the Circle I’m in Tao and the Goetic obedience is part of that Tao, no force, no struggle, simply nature taking its course. As with all things I think people should at least try it out, see what they think of this style of Circle. I’ve explained the why, and you can find the how in the Heptameron. Personally mine is slightly altered from the Heptameron but the theory behind it is the same.
It is not just the nature of practices that change over time but the understanding of practices, the whys get lost in the whats. Tracing a practice to earlier times occasionally leads to a now irrelevant practice but can also lead the magickian to a greater understanding of what they’re supposed to be doing in the modern form.
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Grimoires: A History of Magic Books – Owen Davies
Chöd Practice in the Bön Tradition: Tracing the origins of chöd (gcod) in the Bön tradition, a dialogic approach cutting through sectarian boundaries – Alejandro Chaoul, Forewards by Yongdzin Lopon Tenzin Namdak and Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche
The Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned – Michelle Belanger
. It is a delightful (not for) children’s book of rhymes leading you through 26 demons. I, of course, got a copy for my two-year old niece to make sure she is brought up right.
Hundred Thousand Rays of the Sun: The Sublime Life and Teachings of a Chöd Master – H. E. Lama Tsering Wangdu, translated and edited by Joshua Waldman & Lama Jinpa