
A witch comes to town
A witch came to town the other day and wanted to talk about
her religion, which is Wicca, a nature-based spirituality that
connects with a god and a goddess. Since we are near Christmas, I was a reluctant participant.
But who knows where inspiration will surface in this age? And
because a famous witch was in town, I thought she might be able
to brighten the holidays. It turns out I was wrong. There was one sign of hope during the interview. This witch
spoke of her affection for angels. I noticed the other day at
the mall that angels were flying out of the stores like crazy.
So maybe there is some connection. But angels are only one part of witches' spiritual arsenal.
They have crystals to read and tarot cards that speak of the future.
They will cast spells that bring good fortune. But most of them
shy away from casting evil spells and putting people in danger. Which brings me to the good witch I met recently. Her magical
or Wiccan name is Silver RavenWolf, and she is from Pennsylvania,
around Amish and Mennonite country, where she has picked up all
kinds of tricks for making life easier. She is sort of the Martha
Stewart of witchcraft. For instance, did you know that warts can be removed with small
stones from a creek that you rub on your warts and then cast into
a grave before the body is buried? That remedy is in her book "HexCraft, Dutch Country Magick"
(Llewellyn Publications, $15.95). RavenWolf has many others, six
books full of rituals and experiences for those who are fascinated
by ancient spirits. Silver, as her friends call her, is a nice lady, serious but
without so much as a speck of mean witchery in her bones. Somewhere
along the history of her life, she got rid of conventional religion
and took up Wicca. She says it all came naturally, a long family
line of hexers, diviners and possible witches. She said her grandfather told people's fortunes by reading
the bumps on their heads. Now there's a technique you can take
to the bank. Oh, I forgot to tell you there is a simpler way to rid yourself
of warts. According to RavenWolf, you simply draw half circles
on each side of the wart and repeat "Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost" three times. Presto, no more warts. And if you have a co-worker or boss who is always giving you
the "evil eye," she says, simply take two small bones,
tie them together with black thread in the shape of a cross and
wear it close to your heart. This is high fashion in the Wiccan
religion. If you have some graveyard dirt around the house, use it in
a charm to catch thieves, stop gossip, cool the tempers of abusive
family members or to stop a person from meddling in your personal
business. So I wonder why Wicca invokes the Trinity for magical solutions
or why witches wear crosses to ward off warts and evil spirits?
The answer, of course, is that witches, though not Christian believers,
will use Christianity if the symbols prove to have power. One might imagine that people who have many issues will be
hanging bags of dirt and bones on their clothing, washing their
bodies with herbs in public, burning candles and carrying them
through the streets, and scouring the local swamp for toads and
salamanders. The strange thing is that I grew up with these kinds of folk
remedies and religious experiences. Yet, I distrust them because
I watched relatives deteriorate even as they discovered new miracle
cures that would put them on the road to health -- sometimes called
easy street. Ultimately, the cures always failed. Then they would
resort to so-called nerve doctors until a hearse came with a black-suited
driver and trucked them away. Beyond this folk magic, the main things you need to know about
Wiccans are the following: they believe in reincarnation, do not
worship Satan and depend upon the Earth for their well-being and
health. You should also know that in her book called "Angels,"
also published by Llewellyn, RavenWolf informs us there are "28
angels that rule the mansions of the moon." That is incredible
-- that she knows, for one thing. And, second, that anyone would
care. Clark D. MorphewDecember 13, 1997