St. Mark’s Divination

This was a while back in Seattle. The Religious officials tending a fire on the Vigil of St. Mark. The Light was used in times past as a Need Fire or Force Fire. A spiritual fire used in ancient times to ward off evil.

Many of you have already read my post on my Grandfather departing from this world. I had promised you I would give you an account of what had taken place on Saint Mark’s Vigil. And how this was the night of the year where people would see the spectre’s of those who would die before the year ended. As a Necromancer, I have a professional use for this. I would copy the energies of those who were to depart and I would ask for people to either be protected, or crossed over at the moment of their deaths.

But personally, I had a child-like awe of seeing this strange yet solemn procession. Like my Grandfather before me, I was always fascinated with the spirits. With places of rest and with the Occult. Although he would pretend to be an atheist or an agnostic. I don’t think I entirely appreciated the severity of what I was seeing all these years.

That these weren’t just “ghosts”, these were the doppelgängers of living, breathing people who were going to die. Not those who were already dead. And while I do all that I can to try and change fate, I know there were will be a large group that my rituals cannot save. I would go to my local Catholic Cemetery, I won’t reveal the location as I have had to sneak onto the property to perform this vigil now. In the old days, there was a Catholic Priest who sympathized with my Paganism.

Since I am a Christo-Pagan and believe in Jesus, he saw me as one of his flock. And I loved him for it. He was supposed to help me get baptized, but passed away before I could. He would wait with me on the vigil. He never told me if he believed in my visions or not.

I suspect he just wanted to keep me company. And he was just supporting me in my faith. When I called him “Father” I truly meant it. As he was my friend and mentor. And like my grandfather, was one of the few good male influences I had in my life.

The new administration wasn’t quite so liberal minded however. And while they didn’t out right say I was unwelcome, they didn’t allow me to get baptized possibly for my beliefs. Something that goes against Catholic Law because the Church recognizes Santeros as members of their faith. And they have people of various faiths get baptized. There is even a branch of Catholicism called Buddhist Catholicism.

Because of the Quarantine, I couldn’t head to the Church. Number 1, because  breaking quarantine in the middle of a Pandemic for religious rituals is beyond stupid. Like all these idiots in Texas who refuse to close their churches for the pandemic. And by idiots I also include the Baptist Pastors who don’t organize or prepare like the Catholic Church did. Right now the Catholics won’t even give out communion to avoid spreading the infections.

My own Greek Pagan Temple, is doing rituals via Zoom. Santeros are even more flexible because we can also do things on Zoom and each Santero is trained to do magic or religious observances in our own homes. Say what you will about the Catholics, the corruption of their system that functions almost as a monarchy, or the other filthier things they have done. Since after Jesus’ death, they have known how to deal with persecutions and pandemics. During the Black Plague, Pope Clement VI was working with doctors of his time to figure out how to stop the plague.

He even surrounded his own abode in the Vatican with candles to purify the room. It was a precaution against whatever unseen pathogens which may have been in the air. A precaution that even in modern times is done. He also gave mass remission of sins for all who died during the plague. As a way to ensure that the many victims would make it to Heaven.

He also wrote edicts against the persecution of Jews. At the time people thought Jews were poisoning wells which led to the plague. He’s one of the few Popes I do more or less like despite the persecution of Pagans like myself. And these were the people that lived in the underground cities of the dead in Ancient Rome when they were persecuted. They know emergencies and how to deal with them very well.

Heck, even the Jehovah’s Witnesses closed their churches down and have all their meetings via Zoom now. Why these fools in that state are ready to sacrifice their lives needlessly is beyond my understanding. I can only call it madness and fanaticism. But I digress. I could not make it to the church for this reason.

And, there is also a curfew at 10pm where I am. Which means I could not go there regardless. It would be useless because the ghostly procession appears at midnight onward. So I had to improvise. Instead I called on St. Mark the Evangelist and the Gods of the Dead as well as other Saints involved with the dead.

And I did a good old fashioned Bone Casting session. I asked the Gods and Saints to empower the bones to tell the truth and only the truth. I also called the Fates and Healer Gods and all other Gods who protect (Apotropai) from evil. This is what I do to try and save those who can be saved even through a small changing of fate. Once this was done, I called the Gods to see the procession.

I waited a few minutes. And then when this was done, I asked a question.

“Can you see clearly, those who will depart Divine Ones?”

They said, “Yes,”

“Will anyone I know perish among this year’s dead?”

Again they said, “Yes”

My body suddenly tightened. In the past I have seen a few Phantoms of people I knew. But I always knew ahead of time. Sometimes years ahead of time, when death was coming for them. This time, I truly had no notion of anyone’s death.

And I suddenly felt cold deep within myself. It was a glacier like chill and a panic that suddenly rose in me. I suspended the session, calmed myself, grounded and centered, and I asked the question I did not want to ask. There was only one person I knew who was near death. Despite the assurances of the Doctors that it was only pneumonia and not coronavirus.

My grandfather Juan. My family worried it was the virus. His symptoms mirrored the virus. And moreover he lost his appetite. Let me tell you something : before he had Alzheimer’s he barely ate anything.

Unless he was really hungry. But Post Alzheimer’s he gained a whole new gusto for food. Possibly because sometimes he would forget he ate anything. But he had an insatiable hunger and loved his food. So when he got really sick and wouldn’t eat we knew we had to worry.

He also had issues breathing and slept a lot more than before. Finally, his Alzheimer’s got worse. And soon he forgot my mother’s face. At this time we were still waiting for him to get his Covid test. So I asked the inevitable question,

“Is it my grandfather?,”

And the Bones said “Yes,”

I was in total shock. As if someone had paralyzed me. I had no idea what to feel. Suddenly I snapped out of it and did some Ave Marias and Padre Nuestros and rebuked whatever foul spirit could be lying to me. I had convinced myself it was something nasty fucking with me.

It couldn’t be real right? And this time the Bones said no. You see, that’s the problem with magic. We have more control than we think. I closed myself off to the possibility that perhaps he was going to die. And because of that, I biased my own reading.

When I asked again the Bones said no. And I had relief. Of course he’d be fine. The whole place is shut down. Only doctors and nurses are getting in or out.

It will all be fine I assured myself. I even did more biased readings to make myself feel better. Something I thought I had learned never to do again. I had done things like that before in my novice years. I thought I learned my lesson.

But in less than a few minutes all my years of training fled me. And I was again a novice. And so, time passed after that and my grandpa was ‘supposedly’ tested as you all know. And then we were told it came out as negative. In the time that St. Mark’s Vigil passed, I had done rituals to keep death away from him.

I had sent him healing spirits and all manner of magics. Even an experimental magic I developed that saved others in the past. So when these people from the home claimed he tested negative, my Mom sighed in relief. And I finally thought I could take a break. “I’ll watch him,” I said to myself. “I’ll track his progress, he’ll be fine,”.

I fooled myself into thinking I had succeeded. That I had saved him. Now I just had to keep him safe. And you know the rest. The next day, my Mom got the call that he had died.

I should have heard the truth the Gods had shown me. That the Saints had shown me. Maybe then instead of trying to keep him alive in his mortal coil, I would have prepared a funeral mass for him so that when he died he would instantly cross. But I did not do that. And so you see, even witches, versed as we are in the secret and arcane knowledge of the Gods and their spirits can be wrong too.

I should have listened. But I let myself get too close to this. I should have asked my spiritual teachers and masters. They would have told me if the first reading was right and the subsequent readings were wrong. Even my mother dreamt omens of his death.

All the signs were there and I didn’t want to see them. Why? Because I was blind. Why didn’t I listen to them? Why did I just deceive myself? Because in the end, I am bitch slapped with the same goddamn karmic lesson. I am not superman. I am just a man.

I get so caught up in my work that I forget that. I want so badly to change the world for the better, to save people. And it has consistently been my downfall no matter what. And here, in the face of this great change, I thank the Gods. They tried to tell me.

They helped me even when they knew my magic wouldn’t be enough to save him. That the medical care wouldn’t be enough. Though truth be told, the medical care was shitty as hell. Thank you my Gods and Holy St. Mark the Evangelist. Thank you for once again showing me your power to see the unseen and lift the veil from my eyes.

So that I could see truth. Even though I immediately blinded myself the moment I received said truth. I learned once more that we are our own worst enemy sometimes. Even with the knowledge and the resources, what is meant to be is meant to be.

“Yahuah, I know that the way of man is not in himself: it is not in man who walks to direct his own steps,” – Jeremiah 10:23

This is truth, even for those with the sight. Even for those who know what the truth is. I still couldn’t face it. I should have known better. Another painful lesson learned for my journey in this life.

There’s a Santero meme on the internet in Spanish. It shows a creepy man with his eyes rolled to the back of his head and it goes,

“The dead man says,

‘I will open your eyes. But I can’t respond for what you will see,’  ”

 

✝ ➕ ✝