Dispelling myths about witchcraft

Members of a modern coven are preparing for an open ritual

The witches of Caer Avalon don't attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry like storybook hero Harry Potter, but their high priestess did attend York University.

``Harry Potter has nothing to do with witchcraft as a religion!'' Fand LeFey, a Caer Avalon member, exclaims. ``It's a great coming-of-age book, like The Wizard Of Oz, but we don't have flying monkeys at our ritual.''

They also don't wear elaborate black dresses, unless it's the velvet and lace clothing made by their own goth seamstress. They don't lurk around old houses where young documentary makers are rumoured to have disappeared - à la Blair Witch, but they do host rituals open to the public, like their upcoming Samhain, or Halloween, celebration on the traditional Celtic date of Nov. 11.

Caer Avalon is a modern coven that patches together what information is left of pre-Christian Celtic spirituality with members' intuition. Like most pagan covens, or spiritual communities, they worship the Goddess and the God in nature.

To dispel some of the misinformation about witchcraft, Caer Avalon invites spiritual seekers to participate in ceremonies and an annual Harvest Moon gathering of pagan vendors, workshops, and rituals.

Sitting in a North York coffee house, the group looks more like a handful of riot grrrls or ravers than a circle of mystics. The coven's high priestess, Lady Aislinn Morgana Amazos, 25, has streaks of red in her black hair, while Fand, 28, sports multi-coloured Doc Martens. They use their coven names because of the death threats Aislinn has received after talking to the media about her religion.

Still, she keeps her sense of humour. ``People ask if we're like the girls on (the TV show) Charmed,'' Aislinn jokes. ``And I say, `No, we eat.' ''

The group is preparing for a private Samhain ritual on Oct. 31.

``The energy is just so high then,'' says Aine, 26, ``that we want to keep it to the professionals.''

Everyone laughs.

Scout, 29, is one of the coven's two male witches.

``We're really light-hearted about our religion, but Samhain is more pensive and solemn,'' he says. Because everyone ``wants to go to a witches' thing on Halloween'' - including those who do not take the religion seriously, the group chose Nov. 11 for the open ceremony.

The ritual will be held at York University, where Caer Avalon is part of the Interfaith Council, a committee of religious groups on campus. People who are not York students must register on the coven's Web site. The Web site, maintained by Scout, also describes the beliefs of Caer Avalon and provides a reading list for interested visitors.

In a typical ritual, someone starts by reading a poem meant to calm and inform participants about the holiday. Then the group is ``blessed'' by having water or oil sprinkled on each person. The space is then transformed into sacred space, either through chanting, drumming or visualization - imagining the space becoming holy.

Aislinn then guides the group in meditation and divination, especially on Samhain, a night when most pagans consider the veils between life and death thinner than usual.

Caer Avalon will provide candles that ritual participants can light in honour of those who have died. Aislinn got the idea from an Irish tradition, in which candles are kept lit in windows to guide spirits home.

Whenever detractors of witchcraft call it a made-up religion with no valid ties to the past, Aislinn rushes to its defence: ``What do you think the Bible is? It's made up of earlier pagan myths. All religions are made up. What does it matter? I don't care if you're worshipping a sun god,'' she continues, referring to the belief some pagans and scholars hold that Christianity is a mythological system based on solar holidays. ``Go at it. Just don't tell me to do it.''

Aine explains why she joined Caer Avalon. ``I was Catholic and I could not identify. I was drawn to an Earth-based religion.''

``There's (Goddess-worshipping) temples and groves thousands of years old,'' says Scout. ``Our religion is real,''

``You're standing on Her (the Earth),'' Fand declares.

Caer Avalon provides, Scout says, ``a support system, a tribe, a Celtic cultural group.''

The group has eight members in its inner circle, plus one petitioning for membership. Open rituals draw from five to 50 worshippers.

``You read a book or meet someone involved in paganism and go, `Oh, this makes sense,' '' says Aislinn, a witch since she was 14. She's been with York University's pagan group since 1992. Once that group's leader left, Aislinn took over. In February 1999 at Imbolc, a pagan holiday of dedication and initiation into the service of the Goddess, the group changed its name to Caer Avalon.

``York has been fabulous,'' Aislinn says. Although once someone vandalized the group's office door with crosses and ``Jesus is Lord'' graffiti, Aislinn says the Student Christian Movement and Baha'i groups have treated them well.

``I have nothing but good things to say about them,'' she enthuses.

But for those whose notions of witchcraft still conjure Harry Potter-like images, Aislinn says, ``You have no excuse to assume stupid things. Come to our ritual.''