That time I met Jesus at a Pagan festival

How have I not written about this? I feel like I did, but there's no post here. Maybe I did it on Facebook? If I did there, it's not like I'll ever find it so.. Let's add it here.

Like many Italian girls (and for my Dad I'll also tell you that I'm about a quarter German, with a dash of Irish, and a pinch of Dutch although we didn't know that about the Irish and Dutch till about 10 years ago since Gram didn't like Irish people), I was raised Roman Catholic. I got all the sacraments up to Confirmation, including Baptism and 1st Communion (wait... is a wedding a Sacrament? Because I was married in the Church, too), but overall we weren't hardcore Catholics at my house. My mother read cards, had psychic mediums as friends, taught us to safely use a spirit board. We didn't go to church every Sunday, but when we did, I didn't like it much. My parents couldn't take Communion since my father had been married for about a year while he was in the Air Force, which was before marrying my mother, and since they didn't have $1K to annul that first marriage... no Communion for them, ever.

Not cool, Church. Not cool.

So, I was raised Catholic, and born on Christmas. Right there, that's a connect with the Big J that some other people don't have. We bro'ed out as Birthday Twins, and I liked it. I liked him. He was a long-haired, radical guy who loved everyone, mostly. Can't argue much with that, but as I got older I found lots of things I could argue with. Lots. Loads. Tons.

I didn't see myself reflected back at me in Church. I mean, because while us Catholics had Mary, technically you weren't supposed to pray to her. You were supposed to pray to Mary to intercede for you in asking her son to help you.

Ok, so wait. The most rad woman living at the time, chosen to bare the Savior can't get the job done for me?

Whatevs.

Mary's "Whatever" face

So, with all those problems regarding the stances the Church has taken, I left the Church and started the path that I'm still on today. It was for the most part easy to leave, and I have never carried an ex-Catholic chip on my shoulder about the Church. We just didn't mix well together. But like a good little Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, not so very deep down I always felt a bit guilty.

"Jesus is probably mad at you," said my trusty Catholic guilt. "Maybe you can slide under the radar with all this. Right?... No. Jesus is probably mad at you."

"Whatcha doin'?"

I'm being humorous, but really, it did bother me. I'm quite a loyal person. I've never broken up with anyone, and I rarely quit anything. I also don't like disappointing people. So, while moving on from Catholicism wasn't hard, I was troubled in some aspects.


That was 1998. In 2002, I went to my first Starwood Festival, back when it was in New York State at Brushwood. That week changed me in so many ways, and for so many reasons... even if it still took me another year to shower without my bathing suit on in the community bath house. A girl needs time, you know.

Starwood always culminates with the Saturday night sacred bonfire. I'd been around countless campfires, but this ain't no Girl Scout campfire, kids. This is the Starwood Bonfire.

It's closing in on 40 years that this festival has been going on, and it spent quite a few of those years at Brushwood. Attendance was upwards in the hundreds, maybe something close to 8 or 9? Even more would pile in for Saturday nights. So, a lot of people. Attendance is getting back up there now that it's moved to Wisteria.

 The bonfire is accompanied by drumming, singing, chanting...and what I didn't know about myself back then was my ability for trance work. Remember, this was 2002, and I had only just started working as a Guide in Seidth rituals, the reconstructed Norse version of trance as taught to me by Freya Aswynn, who learned from Diana Paxon. I hadn't taken the seat yet, nor been trained by Janet and Gavin in Trance Prophecy.

There was this fire, all these magical people, the drums, the singing. I stood there with Scott and Christine in total awe. I knew that everyone was gathering their gods around the fire, I could feel them, and so I thought I'd take a walk. 

The drummers were all to my left (it's funny..that's still where I hang out every year at the bonfire) and I walked past them only to see a long haired, caramel colored handsome man, and two women, one young, one slightly older, sitting on a blanket to the right of the last drummer. There were the three of them, but it was him that I honed in on. Because it was Jesus.

Before I knew it, I was sitting beside him on the blanket. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked, in complete amazement. Because, hello, this isn't his Church. 

"Where else would I be?" he replied with a smile. 

And then I felt that crushing guilt, because now he knew, officially, that I was with the witches and pagans, and that I'd left him. 

I didn't have to say anything. He said, "Stop. It's okay. All that guilt you've been carrying is just from you. You and I are good. You have to do this." 

He then took hold of the hand of the younger of the two women, the one that was beside him. They just smiled at me, and I understood this was the Magdalene, and she was his partner. I looked at the other woman who sat behind us on the blanket. She was quietly sewing. I understood this was the Virgin, his mother.

There was Jesus, with his two favorite ladies, hanging out on a blanket at a Pagan festival. 

"Where else would I be?"

Where else, indeed.

In that instant, all my guilt was gone. He wasn't angry, wasn't going to "punish" me. He'd blessed my journey, and blessed this newbie witch with a healing my heart needed. 

The next thing I knew, Scott and Christine were waving their hands in my face, shouting my name. "Where were you!? You were just staring at the fire not responding!"

"No I wasn't... I was talking to Jesus..."

Gone was the blanket, and so was this special Trinity. 

I'll be forever grateful, and like Jackson Brown, I'll always be "a heathen, and a Pagan, on the side of the Rebel Jesus."