I’ve spent a LOT of time around practitioners of some type of mysticism— Yogis and Buddhist meditators; people who are really into different strands of Christian mysticism like hesychasm or the Cloud of Unknowing (I could probably count some Pentecostals among these); people who orient more towards non-sectarian teachers of a kind of psychological mysticism like Byron Katie and Eckhart Tolle. Mostly I’ve spent time with the Christians, because that’s my core tribe. I’ve done weeklong Centering Prayer retreats and even spent a month in a Cistercian monastery.
I love these people, but one thing you start to notice is a subtle snobbery around the idea of mysticism vs “magic.” The difference is generally framed as one of surrendering to, aligning with, or achieving union God (theosis or henosis) versus trying to affect or control reality through one’s egoic will or desires, which are generally seen as bad or unspiritual. There’s a similar snobbery toward “New Age,” which is essentially a catch-all term for “anything I think is silly, insubstantial, or embarrassing.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard say, a practitioner of Centering Prayer dismiss a crystal-wearing yogi as New Age, when one of the Charismatic Christians I grew up with would definitely call Centering Prayer New Age, and a Baptist would condemn them all.
Back to magic, the thing you start to realize if you practice both mysticism and magic is that they’re not really all that different. Magic focuses more on ritual and attention to the material world and yes, seeking to alter the material in some way. But is that really any different than prayer? If you pray to Jesus to get a new job vs making a ritual petition and creating a talisman for Jupiter, what’s the essential difference, other than method (and deity)? What about chanting 1,000 mantras to Lakshmi or making a 54-day novena to the Virgin Mary? Fasting and praying to receive discernment from God? Is that different than the fasts ancients would undergo before consulting oracles?
In my experience, spells and prayers work best when you’re cultivating a relationship with whoever you’re petitioning. And if you build that relationship, it will begin to change you. You are given the thing you asked for, and you realize it’s not everything you thought it would be. You attune to the world around you, sensing God or Mary or Hekate is speaking to you in everything, and the things you were once obsessed with no longer seem so important. And conversely, some of the most magical times in my life have been when I was practicing a lot of meditation and seeking divine union. I’d have dreams and visions that later manifested in the real world, or sticky and difficult situations would just work out in seemingly miraculous ways, with money and opportunities being offered at just the right moment. I’ve found that the more I align with this underlying reality that ties all things together (that I would call God), the more I get out of any spellwork or petitionary prayer I do.
Both magicians and mystics are attempting to contact some deeper reality that exists beneath the tangible surface of things, and improve their lives in some way. I’ve spent enough time around monastics to understand that they’re driven to avoid or escape their suffering just as much, if not more, than magicians. And so what? In either case, you can learn extraordinary things about yourself and the universe.
I’m currently reading Jesus the Magician by Morton Smith, an old work of scholarship, but one that remains very relevant and interesting. Smith looks at what ancient people actually thought about Jesus, not just the church fathers who later determined— centuries after the crucifixion— what would be orthodox or “right belief,” but also what various divergent sects believed about him. He mines the Greek Magical Papyri, which have many spells that invoke Jesus as well as Yahweh, and draws parallels between what Jesus was said to have done, both in and outside of the canonical texts, and ancient magical praxis. From what I understand, some of Smith’s scholarship is quite outdated, but his larger point holds up. I stumbled across this academic, Simone Kotva, who specializes in the theology of magic and ecology (honestly, I picked the wrong career) and she explains in this short video the link between the Eucharist and the PGM (her whole channel is fantastic):
I was also tipped to a new book out from ceremonial magician Frater Acher called Holy Heretics that further complicates the line between mysticism and magic. I’ve read a little of his work in the past— his blog, Theomagica, is always a good read— and a quick scan of the book’s table of contents has me very excited. Desert Fathers and Hildegard and Olympic Spirits? Yes, please.
I don’t believe there’s really any bright functional dividing line between “proper religion” and paganism any more than there is mysticism and magic. It’s true that people are always drawing these lines, and defining themselves against one another, but the ways these polarities play out over the centuries is often shifting. Any tool or technique worth cultivating can be used for good as well as for ill. I’m primarily interested in what works; what helps us live happier, healthier lives in harmony with the earth and the cosmos.
I’m curious, what’s your experience with mysticism and magic?
Thanks for this Rebekah. I've been listening to Bart Erhman's podcast and his courses. I truly love anything that brings reality and context to Jesus, the Bible and the characters therein. I looked up the book Jesus the Magician, and there is Bart giving the intro! I'm glad to know about it (though based on the reviews not sure I'll buy). A fascinating concept through and through. I'm also reading Hillman, and Jung's Red Book for my dream tending course; they both weave so much magic. I'm here for all of this!
Hi Rebekah, I found your substack after appreciating some of the comments in Abbey of Misrule. Love the topics you write about!
I am a student tantric buddhist (Tibetan) tradition, but I left it for a year to explore shamanism. In tantric buddhism we pray to the bodhisattvas to grant us liberation, but also sometimes for other things. For example, I’m studying the traditional Tibetan medical tradition now, and in one prayer we pray for siddhis or unusual abilities to help us become better healers.
When I did two retreats with a shaman (an African shaman who worked mainly with westerners) the goal instead was to work with nature spirits and ancestors. During one of the retreats, I was having recurring nightmares about families breaking down (divorces, kids being abandoned) and reported this, and one of the assistants at the retreat suggested I may have a block or wound around family. I admitted that I had been single for 8 years, and really wanted to get married and have children, but believed it wasn’t possible for me. She told me it wasn’t selfish for me to ask the ancestors for help with finding a partner, because having unfulfilled dreams of wanting a family may have be causing a block in my ability to give the world “my medicine” (in this shaman’s belief system, everyone incarnates with a gift or a “medicine” to give or the world and finding and implementing this gift is a huge purpose of the spiritual work). I did a ritual where I wrote down everything I wanted jn a partner and asked my ancestors to help me find a partner with these qualities, and then put the paper in a fire that was ritually consecrated as a portal to the ancestors. 3 weeks after this ritual, I started talking with my now husband-to-be.
Is there a difference in praying to bodhisattvas for liberation vs ritually working with the ancestors to find a partner in terms of spiritual integrity? I’m not sure in this case, as the overall intention behind the shamanic work was something more than just fulfilling my desires, but getting certain material things taken care of to free up energy for my higher purpose. Just one perspective!