Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
In Which the Priest Answers the Inquisitive Child
Yes indeed, it was I in the mask and the paint last night; that's no secret. Everyone knows it.
But the god was there also.
Did you for a while forget that it was me, and see and hear only the god, even if just for only for a little?
You did, and that's the mystery, and the power: that if I do my work well, and you do your work well, then sometimes, for a little, the god will consent to cast his shadow over his priest, so that in this way he may speak, and dance, and sense.
And you too may see him then, and speak with him, and dance with him.
Why does he consent to do this? He does it because we are his people, and he loves us.
He does it because he loves you.
That's what the ancestors have said, and we know that it is so because we have seen it for ourselves.
That's the power, and that's the mystery.
Above: Mask (cedar, shell inlay)
Mississippian, circa 1400
Spiro, Oklahoma
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