Clinging to the shadows, Coyote stumbled their way through the alleyways and crevices in town. Lukewarm vitae oozed from their mouth and from deep gashes in their torso. As people filtered through the darkness, they slipped down onto the floor hoping they'd just chalk it up to drunkenness.
They weren't sure what was worse. Having to hide their slow bleeding from the roaming Kine or the moments they were alone and more paranoid about their attackers sneaking up on them in a second wind. Stopping to obfuscate themselves would take up too much time and they couldn't afford to waste any blood.
Another lone corner, they whipped around in terror to find nobody behind them. 'Fuck this. We need to get off the damn street. Now.' Their Beast all but wailed. They peeked out of the alleyway and noted the street corners. Colin. His motel was nearby. He'd just have to put up with them for the night. Hauling ass the rest of the way, until they found his room. A slight wave of magic wafted over them.
Desperately rapping at the door, an imprint of their bloodied knuckles was left behind on the door. "Colin?" Their voice trembled. "It's Coyote. I really need you to open the door."
To the dismay of many tourists, the nights had grown relentlessly muggy. The brush of strangers on the crowded streets had grown increasingly sticky but Coyote couldn't think of more comfortable conditions. Not only did they feel they were running warmer than usual but witnessing what such a heat did to the human condition was an endless source of entertainment. Especially in a town where booze ran in the gutters. Such conditions drained patience rapidly.
One of the little diners is where many came to end their night, hoping to sober up before heading back to their hotels. Still, the occasional fight broke out here and there. Without invitation, plopping down at the counter next to one of the few sober strangers in the place. They snickered, "For a place that can't sell alcohol, the floor sure is sticky, huh? I like to hope it's milkshakes. You look rrrough, man. Have a long night? Couldn't be as long as theirs." Gesturing with their eyes to a pack of drunken woman, one of which was weepy-eyed.
Jewitch Self-Analysis: Theism & Personal Conceptualization
I've already monologued about my relationship with belief. I'm going to try to set it aside in order to focus on my current perspective on HaShem. I see this as perhaps one of the most--if not the most--critical sticking points about the awkwardness of combining Judaism and witchcraft. "Aren't you using non-Jewish spiritual practices that HaShem forbids? Do you think you can control HaShem with magic? Do you not trust HaShem to let things happen as they are supposed to?"
I'm... ready to wade into the controversial pool here. I feel like people can get HaShem wrong. And in an way that could be argued to be idolatrous. I'm not going to say that with absolute certainty nor authority-- I'm just one drop of opinion in an ocean of people with actual acclaim after all--but I'm still going to talk about it.
Jews generally recognize that references in the Torah to HaShem's arm or face or whatnot are intended to be metaphorical. We humans anthropomorphize things in order to better understand them. If people try to apply physical form to HaShem or act as if a physical thing is divine in a serious way, however, this is a form of idolatry. And so I argue that anthropomorphizing, trying to fit HaShem into a human box in any kind of serious way, is a form of idolatry (albeit perhaps a far less severe form). It comes easy to people, both because of the psychological phenomenon I mentioned (of making HaShem easier to understand) but also because it's an effect of living in a very Christian-dominated society which frequently depicts images of Gd in a human-adjacent form or mortal Jesus as Gd.
But HaShem is Ein Sof, Without End. HaShem is not human. For as easy as it is for me to apply human traits, it's equally difficult for me to not feel as though this application is disrespectful or inappropriate. It even feels wrong to say "melech" during brachot, and I have a little mental asterisk in my head that says "but not in a human way though."
It would be easy for me to say that HaShem would forgive us for this act of idolatrous anthropomorphizing because it is not intentional idoltary. And then that right there would be an example of the anthropomorphizing I'm talking about. Saying that "HaShem would forgive" implies HaShem has emotions the way humans do, makes choices the way humans do, interacts with the linear progression of cause and effect the way humans do. It's a set of assumptions we make because we are human and only truly understand how humans act. On an intuitive level, we have the barest understanding of how other animals act, try very hard to understand plants and fungi, and don't even see anything else as having a deeper understanding to it at all. And yet, we think we have a decent understanding of HaShem?
I feel like I'm just reiterating Maimonides' theistic conceptualization, in a way. I'm almost not even sure why I'm bothering to write this post, now that I'm re-reading the article I just linked and finding it a lot better worded without throwing around accusations of soft idolatry.
I think the place I diverge is when I start stepping away from Maimonides' very rational "negative theology" the article describes, and start adding something in again. (With the asterisk of "I don't fully believe this nor disbelieve this, please refer to the 'secret third thing' in my previous post on belief," of course.)
I agree with Maimonides that, logically, something came before the universe. I can't be satisfied with the Big Bang Theory alone, because something must have surrounded it, initiated it. Our world has a logical progression to it, and the only thing that could have predated it is something that is incomprehensible, something to be forever grateful to for helping/allowing/initiating the universe. And it seems to me that there is no reason to think that this Supreme Being vanished, or was eliminated by the universe coming into play. In fact, it seems very reasonable to think that this Supreme Being used Its own self (inasmuch as It has one) to create the universe, and as such is part of every little thing that lies within. We are still surrounded by Oneness.
So. I guess I currently conceptualize HaShem as the neural network of the universe. Not material, but the thing inhabiting and driving the material. Not thinking, but nevertheless acting. Everything connected on an immaterial level, and affecting one another like dominoes. Perhaps if we were able to somehow rip ourselves from our material forms we may perceive a pattern suggesting human-like intent or at the very least perceive the general direction of the universe, but that's not possible. At best, we have the chance at finding this understanding if/when we are reintegrated with HaShem at the end of the universe.
As a visualization, I see HaShem as the light behind the starfield of the universe. The waves of energy that seep from the stars emanating in all directions, and clinging to/supporting everything perceivable. Creeping tendrils of that energy reaching into the material, including my body and the chair and the air, with branches that are more numerous for more complex material things like life. All tendrils connecting to one another in a complex network, pulsing between each other. While my mind is limited to my branching tendrils, I am nevertheless part of this neural network and affect/am affected by each nearby component. I glow with the light. HaShem is Everything and I am part of Everything.
And here's the witchery part of this: If we are part of an immaterial neural network, we should be able to trigger effects in this neural network. Certainly I can cause the most perceivable effects with my material self (directly talk to someone to get their help), but I should also be able to cause effects if I can invoke those immaterial connections (invoking our connection so that a person feels suddenly inclined to ask me if I need help).
The closest I can perceive of immateriality, as a human, include my emotions and belief and intent and overall abstract thought. Perhaps I can better control my surroundings by engaging these most immaterial aspects of my self. Stronger connections can help me with that, and repetition (habits but also utilizing aspects of shared languages & culture) strengthens those connections. Following things that I associate with the immaterial because other people also do, the witchy-like things, may give me a better chance at successful invocation.
There's part of me that feels the universe is inevitable. The very concept of gravity dragging things in a specific direction suggests that all actions will happen along a predetermined linear path. Even if invoking the immaterial is possible and works, there remains a possibility it was also inevitable that things would happen upon my invocation. But this doesn't nudge me to quit. Because no matter the truth of the nature of the universe, I am tapping into something sacred and mysterious and worth acknowledging. I am reaching within and finding HaShem's light.
Say I do believe in this wholeheartedly, and wasn't stuck on my "secret third thing" belief. This is not at all traditional Judaism. And it may even seem an arbitrary thing for me to assign Jewish interpretation as the "correct" interpretation of That Which Existed Before The Universe As We Know It. I don't know if it's "correct." Everything is passed through humans in order to communicate such abstract concepts like this Ultimate Abstract Concept, and there are most certainly errors as we attempt to comprehend the Incomprehensible. I can't even bring myself to truly see the Torah, our most sacred document, as directly from HaShem because of all the humanness involved that is necessary for it to exist. So why continue with Judaism? Why not just start anew with these fringe thoughts?
I think it's because, at the end of the day, I'm still a human who needs home and community. And Judaism is this for me, more than fringe witchcraft alone could ever be. It is the truest monotheistic religion, it is the religion that I grew up with, and it is a set of beliefs that I can adhere to in such a way that makes me feel as though I still am doing something good and true. It feels right. I am ever-grateful to HaShem for my life, and perhaps by performing halachot, my sacred obligations, I can effectively express that feeling.
The short of it is this: Judaism gives me the strongest spiritual connection to the immaterial neural network of the universe, and invoking this immaterial through witchcraft makes me feel closest to HaShem. It gives me balance, and meaning. And through this I am fulfilled.
The house looks different in daylight, Antonia muses, tapping her knuckle twice on the door. She’s shorter than she likes to be when meeting new people, still wearing her sneakers from her trip to the graveyard, and considers that in the future she might want to keep a pair of court shoes in her car.
“You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.” It’s the first thing she says to him once they’re face to face, half laughing. It had only occurred to her while she was on her way over that she couldn’t recall his name. Had she even given him hers? Hopefully he’d seen it mentioned by someone. “I think I just got used to calling you Sourcerer. Sorry, I’m Antonia. Nice to meet you in person.” She holds out her hand and tries not to look like she’s studying him too intently.
