The Modern Political Tragedy and the Remedy of Magical Thinking
The word “magic” is popular these days, and the odds of meeting a self-professed witch in a random social setting isn’t that surprising at all in contrast to the centuries of hiding that witches had to do to survive. I will say most of these witches wandering around are new to the party, discovering Wicca in glossy trade paperbacks. That’s not at all to diminish their spirituality in any way. I too discovered magic in one of these easily accessible texts though they were like gateway books to more complex writings on magic, which by and by led me to read philosophy and mainstream religious texts. I found that I wanted more than just learning about magical operations and rituals. I wanted to understand how magical phenomena could actually occur in a world that has developed into a place often devoid of wonder let alone miracle. It’s quite possible that the large population of people into Wicca or neo-paganism may have similar thoughts.
Those who find something sacred in human life or in nature are often scoffed at by post-modern nihilists who seek to replace the spiritual with the cult of tribal identity politics veneered in the guise of virtue. Be that as it may, if more people entertained the magical, not pathos driven idealism, but rather the spiritual, we might very well see more social harmony as people work on developing themselves and their ability to wonder. Don’t worry. It isn’t necessary to be a witch to develop a sense of the magical even if the tradition isn’t your run of the mill Protestant Christianity. Most magical texts emphasize that to do magic one must purify oneself, like the philosophical alchemists of old; it is within the context of purification and inner work that magic can and should be a thing popular with all, for the elevated human is more likely to make wise decisions rather than foolish ones.
It’s important to talk about what magic is though since there’s an argument of definition seething below the surface — unless you meet that one person at the bar who will call you a Gnostic and fight you for it (just kidding) in which case it isn’t below the surface; rather, it’s several shots of whiskey in and hankering to be at the top of the argument to boot. To some, magic is something associated with lights and animation, the silver screen, Disneyland, and the childish imagination. Those things are most commonly described with the adjective “magical” at least so far as I’ve observed. We might also talk about magic as a utopian fantasy, virtual reality, idealized social movements, or pathos drenched optimism. In the former case, magic is synonymous with play. In the latter, it is the stuff of modern popular S.J.W. culture. The wish for something to be so becomes a substitute for the rational, and in the absence of logic, disorder arises. Regardless of the trip, the emphasis should be less on them and more on the people out there who pursue magic rather than utopian delusion. Magical practitioners believe magic works like prayer, an effort of petitioning the divine. They are in contrast to others who believe magic is something that strikes like lightning, a matter of chance. They don’t see magic as trickery, sleight of hand, a cause for every effect. Materialists think magic is pure childish fantasy: human beings deluding themselves to think they have more agency than they do in order to feel better in a chaotic world. Most Christians think of it as nonsense at best or spiritual hubris and blasphemy at worst. Whatever the case may be, magic can so too be seen as the wonderous, as invisible forces creating awe-inspiring phenomena that are verifiable and repeatable. Much of the technology we use is magical (wonderous) but is not considered so because the technology relies on the causes and effects of material substances and can be replicated, and so it is viewed as mere science, but we should not forget that early science went hand in hand with the alchemical, where physical experiment tied into spiritual philosophy, and the mind of the person doing the operations as well as the quality of the correspondences, the timing, and any other spiritual influences would all affect the magical outcome of the rite to greater or lesser (unpredictable) extents. On its own, the magic of spell work is a thing mysterious and unverifiable, yet it offers the possibility of wonder, and thus, for many, it stands as a remedy to despair. For people surrounded by impersonal corporate buildings and bleak cityscapes with no soul, magic is the answer. If society wants to overcome mainstream nihilism, then magic should be respected rather than diminished. If you denigrate the spiritual, then you uplift the material, and it is the crass materialism of the modern world that so inspires the disaffection of the people.
Spellwork uses ritual action that relies on correspondence and assumes that the transcendent properties of the pneuma (God/gods) can be harnessed and directed — though petitioned would perhaps be a better way to describe it. How would that be of use to our modern political tragedy? Magical texts emphasize that the more elevated one’s inner nature is, the more likely it is for the magical operation to succeed. With an elevated inner nature, one can assume increased wisdom, contemplation, and self-discipline in contrast to the wild ad hominem attacks and destruction of the pathos driven.
Some people veer toward reason rather than self-delusion whether magical or otherwise, so it may be difficult to convince them that a magic-positive world view is worth cultivating since the existence of magic is written off as nonsense, mental illness, or downright devilry; however, it is a greatly respected Christian who might actually be compelling in this situation. One of St. Augustine’s arguments in favor of the Christian faith also supports the idea that magic is real. St. Augustine, a man who frowned upon superstition and was devoutly Christian, explains in On Christian Doctrine how doctrine, religious belief, is true despite the material evidence being absent. We have no direct material proof of God, yet the Christian relies on faith, seeing divine design in all things. Augustine writes, “All doctrine concerns either things or signs, but things are learned by signs.” In the absence of physical proof, we use signs to discern the existence of things. Christians use the signs reported in the Bible as proof of God (the signified). We could also think of the famous example of a deer hoof print in the forest. The deer is nowhere to be found, yet the print is a sign that the living deer passed by. The deer does not fail to exist just because we can not see it in person, just as monotheists would argue that God does not fail to exist just because we cannot see Him. Magic is a belief, a doctrine for some. It exists though it is immaterial, and the effects we see in the material realm are evidence of divine cause in the absence of other factual, material causes. The argument for magic being real is the same as for spiritual faith.
That being said, St. Augustine was not a fan of magic. As a Christian, he saw the miraculous works of Christian mystics as being good because of the motivations: praising God or helping people. On the other hand, he felt that most magic was superstition. If not superstition, the magical practices people pursued were based on selfish, prideful motivations or delusion, doing magical work in order to convince oneself that there is a solution for a problem when in reality what they are working at is more of a placebo. It is also important to acknowledge that St. Augustine felt that most magic was based on making contracts with ensnaring, lying d(a)emons who attempt to rival the work of God and lead people into sin. This has been a common view in Western history, which is part of the reason why so much religious persecution occurred, specifically the burning of witches. However, the reason that some ceremonial magicians were able to do their spell work without being burnt at the stake is that they were viewed as Christian mystics, their magic relied on angelic aid, and they praised God, arguing that their rituals operated effectively by virtue of his grace. Those who are not Christian do not think personal magic is corrupt and do not believe that the entities they work with are false. They may work with trusted gods from their own or other cultural traditions, implementing ritualistic safeguards against negative influences to protect themselves from metaphysical snares. If we see a cultural shift where altruistic magic is seen as the ideal, then we can expect the larger magical community to focus ever more on the inner-work so that the outer work may manifest without corruption. It stands to follow that with increased inner-work, we may see less cancel culture, which seeks to destroy lives based on animus. The intended goal may be magical manifestation, but the unintended effect will be more balanced, reasonable people walking around.
If magic as spell work sounds too out there, then magic as synchronicity may be a more accessible way of thinking about the beliefs of the current spiritual culture. Synchronicity is similar to coincidence, similar events that happen once or twice accidentally but seem planned. The difference is that synchronicity involves multiple meaningful coincidences. Jung was of the opinion that synchronicity was a force connected with the psyche, more specifically with the collective unconscious or world soul. The idea is that the individual who experiences synchronicity is actually tapping into information from the collective unconscious. The human mind is a microcosm of the greater cosmos, of the greater divine mind, and so all knowledge is shared on an unconscious level even if yet unrealized. Once an event occurs in a meaningful way around the same time period, the information in the world soul has become conscious. Synchronicity, Jung argues, is not so much an energy, which would lose power with distance, time, or interference, but is more of a phenomenon of the psyche, and as Jung theorizes is perhaps a force, a fourth aspect to the space, time, causality trinity. If society can embrace this force as something real and thus popularize it, then we can expect a strengthening of the human spirit, a turning away from error and a drawing toward truth. In this movement, the hysteric pathos of the past five years would start losing its power as people grow toward a more elevated concept of self and their relationships with others. With a culture focused on the spiritual rather than the material, we may find the path to unifying our wounded culture. Those who aren’t traditional Christians wouldn’t feel ostracized and would thus be less inclined to participate in viral state destabilization.
With the world like a glass at the edge of a table set to crash and brake with the sounding of one wrong note, perhaps it is time to put aside religious prejudice and focus on that which has the potential to unite so many: a magical world view. We have lots of room to connect and create a more spiritual culture, one at least based on common ground. We could take a play from the Masons of old and find unity with anyone who believes in the divine. They were on to something is to say the very least.
