FOI Online Liturgy
Booklet: Tara of the Oracles,
The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates
By: Olivia Robertson
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PORTAL XII: PISCES
Rite 1: The Dark Goddess of a Myriad Stars
"To take all is to lose all. To give all is to gain all."
TEMPLE OF ALCHEMY
PRIEST of ALCHEMY (TO TWIN APPRENTICES AIDEN & ELAINE): You now face the culmination of the zodiac revelation of Alchemy, the Portal of Pisces. This sphere resolves duality into the music of the spheres. To face the nature of the Universe in its perfection, you need to receive the Oracle of the Goddess Nuit.
PRIESTESS ALCHEMIST (RAISES HER WAND): I invoke the Goddess of our Milky Way Galaxy, the Goddess Nuit. Thou whose Divine body is composed of the blackness of space, yet is resplendent with constellations, receive our prayer to awaken into our true being.
ORACLE OF THE GODDESS NUIT
To know your Self is to find that you are an eternal offspring of My Body. Within each creature, whether Deity or mouse, I express a unique part of my Self. When you honour yourself – you honour others and you bring love and joy to my heart. You tremble when you think of death as a final end to yourself. But this is impossible, because as part of myself, you also are eternal!
But I have compassion for your sorrows and fears, which result in violence, cruelty and stupidity. So come to me not only on ceremonial occasions, but every day, and especially every night. You will find me in the love of your friends and family, and when you care for those you hate or fear. For in me are no enemies.
Within the Divine Aura that surrounds me, evil does not exist. Your sufferings are part of your learning. Find the Divine wherever you recognise it, in the arts, in love, in a widening consciousness. So will you walk both in the darkness and in the light: in truth and love: in vision and adventure: You will have grown up at last!
PRIEST ALCHEMIST: We give thanks to the Goddess for Her Oracle.
PRIESTESS ALCHEMIST (TO ELANE): Elaine, you have bravely fought evil all your life, though the enemy changes as you grow in wisdom. The final enemy is the duality within yourself. Are you willing to face the Ordeal of Pisces?
ELAINE: I have always recognised the sign of Pisces as the yin-yang of the East, and the caduceus of the West. Eagerly I accept the challenge. Yet I cannot believe evil can be resolved into good through Alchemy. I hope, but cannot see how!
PRIESTESS ALCHEMIST (SHOWS HER A TAROT CARD FROM THE MARSEILLE DECK): Describe this card!
ELAINE: Ah, the culminating card of the pack! This depicts the Goddess Fortuna, daughter of Themis, Goddess of Wisdom. She stands in the Initiate posture, on her right leg, her left leg held behind her. She holds in balance two batons. Around her is an oval wreath, its leaves are red, yellow and blue, the primary colours. At each corner are the four Babylonian Kerubim, the Bull, the Lion, the Eagle and the Angel. Strangely, it is called “Le Monde.” But I realise this is not the earth, but the world which is the product of inner creation. We help to form the World. The earth exists anyway.
PRIESTESS ALCHEMIST: You are ready for trance, but possibly not for what awaits you. We will watch with interest, but may not help you.
* * * TRANCE JOURNEY * * *
ELAINE: I make my way up the Hill of the Zodiac, and when I reach the inner sanctum I particularly honour the Goddess of the Central Flame, Vesta. I find my way to the Portal of Pisces. As I expected, it shows two powers, one silver, one gold, in the form of mermaids each side of the Gateway. Above I see a winged disc of pure white light in indigo space. I part silvery-green curtains, and cross the threshold.
I was not expecting this! I am in the small room of an old-fashioned night-club – period I guess in the nineteen twenties. The atmosphere is heavy with cigarette smoke. Some people are dancing to a dismal wail of a saxophone. Some are drinking champagne from old-style wide glasses. I wonder, “How long have they been here?” They look like marionettes, half dead. “For nearly a hundred years – or thereabouts,” says a voice behind me. I turn round and nearly run away screaming. I am facing one of those "Reptilians” I always laughed at as figments of imagination. He is silver-green in colour and is very polite. He is wearing a well-cut dinner jacket. Suddenly I feel like giggling.
As I laugh, his face changes for a flash into that of a very tired elderly gentleman. He says, “Thank you for laughing.” I realise he has been trapped here – something about finance. He picks up my thought. “Everything in hell is free,” he says. “And it goes on and on. There is no death. No release.”
Curious – I have always particularly disliked greedy financiers, and pitied their victims. But now I am bent on getting this character away from this nightmare club. Perhaps because he reminds me of some people I know. “Try and fix your thought and feelings on some place you really like,” I say.
“No,” he says. “I won’t escape until I bring my girlfriend with me…” But even as he says this he vanishes. The obsessive self delusion is broken. He remembered he loved someone. His girlfriend is waiting for him in a better world, puzzled as to why he has slept so long.
I begin to feel claustrophobic and wander out of the over-heated room, and make my way upstairs. In a penthouse I find the most extraordinary apartment. It belongs to an earlier period, I gather in Russia, or some Balkan state. The two rooms are also stiflingly hot with a closed stove. The windows are covered with heavy brocade curtains that totally obscure the light. There are two pleated silk shades over oil lamps, and the floor is muffled with a thick patterned carpet. A samovar is dusty – obviously empty.
At first I cannot find the residents. Then, in the inner room I find a couch covered with fringed velvet cushions, and on these crouch two women. They are wearing long sable fur coats, and both have chiffon turbans. One is much older than the other. Curiously, the older woman is more awake than the other, who is chain-smoking to keep awake.
They become aware of my presence. I admire their beautiful, refined features and elegant white hands that clearly have never done any work. “How long have you been here?” I ask. The answer given by the older woman startles me. I feel afraid, for she says, in a remote voice: “A thousand years.” I look at them again and they begin to change. I see them as Assyrian princesses. But somehow they are the same, like dangerous beautiful black panthers.
Suddenly I decide to intervene, despite my dislike of these sorts of women. I find myself persuading the pair of them to come to an all-night café that serves lorry drivers! Dreamily they come with me into a fluorescent-lighted self-service, all-night café. I queue for them to get a fried meal and a huge pot of coffee. They are actually interested in their surroundings, watching the huge red-faced men in t-shirts and denims – in the jolly waitress with red hair – in the laughing students, teasing each other – and are shaken by the blare of canned music that has a curious effect of shattering their closed auras. I feel triumphant. I am awakening the dead. ***
But suddenly I feel the music is also battering at me. The whole room rotates at ever increasing speed. Total darkness swallows us all. There stands before me the older woman, who is revealed as the Goddess Nuit Herself. On Her right hand stands the reptilian gentleman, now manifest as a human Magus of the Arts. On Her left hand is the younger woman, now a laughing girl, creating magical pictures with star-dust. And I am one of Them. So are we all.
* * * END OF TRANCE * * *
Slowly Elaine returns from trance. She says dreamily: “Now I know when you gain cosmic consciousness, all is transmuted into Divine Reality – because all comes from there anyway.”
ELAINE HAS WON HER DEGREE AND IS TOLD THAT ANY FINAL “TEST” LEADS TO THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ADVENTURE! REPORTS ARE SHARED AND RAYS OF HARMONY SENT FORTH.
END OF RITE.
SOURCES: “The Cabala,” novel, Thornton Niven Wilder, Longman Green. “Isis & Osiris,” Jonathan Cott, Doubleday. “The Golden Cauldron,” Nicki Skully, illus. Werneke, Bear & Co. “Sounding the Inner Landscape, Music as Medicine,” Kay Gardner, Caduceus. “Secrets in the Fields, the Science & Mysticism of Crop Circles,” Silva, Hampton Roads. “The Secrets of Doctor Taverner,” Dion Fortune, Aquarian Press. “Varieties of Religious Experience,”James, Longmans Green & Co. Marseille Tarot, 1748, B.P. Grimaud, Paris, 1930.
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