For everyone with something to say, about Pagan Moon, life, religion or anything else, here's your space. Please submit your opinions to morte@dreamseeker.org. Anything published will be at the editor's discretion. We will accept anonymous submissions. We gave you "Our Two Cents," feel free to give us yours.

Christian Witch

Dear Lady True,

I have some points to make on your latest article in Pagan Moon "Can one be a Christian Witch." I hope they add to your discussion.

1) There are "witches" in Christianity. In fact if not in name. Take a look at Mormonism. Some of the members of the Mormon Church have such strong faith that they are able to accomplish miracles, faith healing and other acts of faith. The magic that Witches practice is not much more than an expression of their will, if applied to the Christian, or Mormon, paradigm will becomes faith, and magic is just an expression of that faith.

2) The Christian prohibition of witchcraft and witchery comes from the "Old Testament," or Talmudic law (from Judaism) that "Thou Shalt not suffer a witch to live." Much of Christianity, the laws and whatnot, stem from the Jewish/Hebrew roots of Christianity. Such as the prohibition against homosexuality, adultery and witchcraft.

3) The quote from the "Old Testament" that you brought up, "Thou shalt not have any other gods before me" does not necessarily apply to witches directly. That section prohibits worship of any other Gods before Hashem (the Hebrew secular word for God), because Hashem is the One God. Not denying the existence of any others, however Hashem is the first and last deity to whom one should turn, if one is Jewish. Witches don't necessarily apply under this commandment because there are witches who do not speak with other deities and call upon them for aid in their workings, if I am not mistaken.

How the two commandments "Thou shalt not have any other gods before me" and "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" work together to produce the events of the Salem massacre is beyond me, perhaps someone could answer that.

Be Well,

Severian

Why Me?
by John Woods

Why Me? It's an age-old question. Why does MY family deserve to die? Why do I deserve to go bankrupt, why did MY car get his by that meteorite? How about, why am I still alive?

I've questioned the existence of God since 1979. I was 6 years old, I was sitting in my family room with all of my cousins, my brother, and sister by my side. Everyone was sad, but I couldn't think of why. My parents, my aunt and uncle, and my grandmother came home. My grandfather was not with them. When was he coming home? He wasn't coming home, ever. That's when I learned that we die. That's when I began to question why I would be born just to someday die. I questioned why a God would do this... but I never found an answer. Not a direct one.

When I was 15 years old, I think I found my first clue to something Grand. I thought the world was coming to an end, and I was willing to let it. I was hopelessly in love (more like lust and desire now that I think back on it) with a girl who could not give a damn. My best friend was the one dating her and flaunting it every chance he got, and I was a self appointed alcoholic, drinking anything my father had in his liquor closet every day, just to find the nerve to face that day.

It was at this time that my depression sank lower then I thought humanly possible. The liquor was not doing the same thing it used to do, make me happy. Now, as we all know, it was making me more depressed, and just a bit drastic in my actions. I was not happy with my life, and my family around me was not getting the hint. There were troubles with my mom and my aunt, and I wanted to do something that would bring them back together.

When I think back to that time, I suppose it set a trend in my life. Not happy? End it. That summer, without exaggeration, I probably tried to kill myself a few dozen times. I will admit, they were not always the best attempts, but the serious ones are the ones which make me question my existence, and that of a higher being.

There were those decisions which upon serious thought, I just decided against. When I set a massive bonfire in the back woods and planned to burn myself, purify my soul, I realized the pain might not kill me right away, so instead, I sat by the bonfire and drank a bottle of Seagram's. It was attempts that should have worked but didn't that truly puzzle me.

I took a fist full of pills and downed them with a glass of vodka, and went to sleep. I was not expecting to wake up. When I did wake up, I was lying in a puddle of my own vomit. You might expect that to be the case, but so many people die that way. Why not me? When I tried to hang myself, I found the strongest branch, and solid piece of rope, tied it around a branch and my neck, and dropped off of our tree fort. The branch did not break, but the rope snapped. Mind you, I was not near this heavy when I was but a kid. Needless to say, I did not try this again.

I tried to cut myself once, twice, or several times, but the sharpest knives didn't seem to cut my skin. I even went so far to play Russian Roulette, which can be argued as chance, but the trigger pulled 3 times successfully, on the 4^th spin, pulling the trigger, the hammer wouldn't pull. That chamber had the bullet in it. The gun has never worked properly since. That was probably the most nerve racking of them all. Sure, it was time for the gun to break I guess, but why then. Why me?

It was about a week later that I tried my last time. I took a bottle small bottle of Southern Comfort with me to the beach, I sat on the beach in the early morning and drank. I went into the water to a cement dock with a nice solid metal ladder. I dunked myself under the water, handcuffed myself to the ladder, and began to drown. I tried to throw away the key which I had on a small necklace chain, but the chain caught on my cloth bracelet. I started to freak out, swallowing and inhaling water. I was kicking and pulling and trying to break the ladder. I was terrified. That's when I felt that stupid, life saving key. I used it, I was freed, and I cried for about two hours.

It can all be explained away as luck, chance, but I think maybe it was something bigger. I don't know why. Sure enough, enough of my friends have killed themselves since then to make me question it again, why am I still here.

I've fallen asleep behind the wheel of my car only to wake up before flying off the road, or have taken entire drives from Trenton to home, and cannot honestly remember the trip at all. But I arrived home safely.

I may never know the answers to which I seek, and I may always question the existence of a greater being… but I will also always wonder, if there is a God, why me?