Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Pagan
A Funny Thing Happened at the Dionysian Ritual

A Funny Thing Happened at the Dionysian Ritual

Last updated on: June 13, 2017 at 11:38 am by Heron Michelle

A Funny Thing Happened at the Dionysian Ritual 2017-06-13T11:38:29-04:00 Heron Michelle

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

This is the tale of that fateful Samhain in the wilds, where Jason “Pan” Mankey invoked the God Dionysus and a dance party broke out to the greatest hits of the 80’s and 90’s. Young and old, we all let our hair down and danced around like crazy teenagers until some magickally curious, and seriously funny shenanigans went down….

Chapel before the Morrison Ritual began with Jason Mankey - photo used with permission 2016

Chapel before the Morrison Ritual began with Jason Mankey – photo used with permission 2016

A Funny Thing Happened at the Dionysian Ritual

Once upon a time, in a secret forest clearing, there was erected a temple to the Old Gods. On that sacred ground, witches gathered from neighboring lands to celebrate the Grand Sabbat of Samhain, to light the bonfires, and embrace the coming darkness of winter without fear. Around that temple lay an old cemetery, and there they circled to honor the Mighty Dead of the land, blood and Spirit…especially the Spirit of Jim Morrison, as an incarnation of Dionysus.

Into their temple, they welcomed an honored Priest, flown in from distant lands, there to teach and lead their rites. Pan Mankey was his witching name, golden haired, and laughing, all coy charm, reverence, and sincere badassery. He raised his bottle of cider, and his voice spoke out the invocations, unlocking the wild witches from all fettered convention. Together, they enacted The Morrison Ritual, Lo, that fateful sabbat day.

CC0 Public Domain - Pixabay

Jim Morrison CC0 Public Domain – Pixabay

The Doors opened, the timbers shook with Jim’s crooning, and we hallow’d him by his ancient names…Dionysus, Bacchus… God of wine, joy and hospitality…god of the vines, fermentation and enjoyment. He was invoked in full lusting hedonistic delight by his own prophetic recordings!

“Come on through to the other side,” we sang. Then, each in their turn, the pledge was made to live in holy ecstasy, in balance of daring and responsibility, of satisfaction and self-preservation. Each witch distilled from the poison of death, the antidote to living well and free–each to their own degree. Lo, that fateful sabbat day.

Libations flowed, the dance began and witches all whirled in their power, to rhythms pounding out Pan Mankey’s holiest playlist. It was a liturgy of youth sung loud and proud, magicks fed with sacred sweat and heaving breath, uniting all to their task to LIVE and live thoroughly!

Power raised and resonating, a new pulse to the old gods thrummed beyond that forest, and like a magnet through the town of Tarboro the natives awakened, senses perking, curiosity driving them to seek out what mischief pounded beyond those trees. Lo, that fateful sabbat day.

Outside the chapel and cemetery the night of our Morrison Ritual - 2016

Outside the chapel and cemetery the night of our Morrison Ritual – 2016

When what mysteries should appear for so late an hour, but strangers driving down their temple lane. So far now from the road, wandering cowans,* either brave or fools, to breech the witching perimeter, a couple parks and wanders in, where they happened upon the first witch they find at our kitchen fires, as he rested from the dance.

“Hey there!” they call. “What’s going on here? Is this a party that we may join?”

“Who are you? This is a private event. How did you find us here at this late hour?” the witch inquires.

“We were driving by and saw your sign by the crossroads. We were so curious and had to know if we may stay and have a drink with you?” the cowans ask once more.

“If you are hungry, may I offer you a bowl of hot food? Stay here, and let me go ask the others,” the first witch offers hospitably, as though Dionysus would have it no other way. The trespassers accept a bowl, and unknowingly dine at our Samhain, on bear-meat chili, prepared with magicks old–in the middle of the conservative, Christian wilds North Carolina, no less. Lo, that fateful sabbat day.

Cemetery Fence with Sanctuary Candles lit for all the Ancestors of the Land, buried there. ~Heron Michelle

Leaving them to dine, to the temple the first witch sought the coven council… “There are strangers among us,” his cry went up! “Locals who’ve heard Dionysus’ call. Perhaps our music is a homing beacon, but they have no clue they are among witches this dark Samhain night. What shall we do?”

The priestess answers, “They are unprepared… no perfect love or trust is known between us. They must away! No cowans may stray into our halls unbidden! Not this or any sabbat day!”

Before any may act, a second witch rushes to the temple door, and with an impish grin, “The strangers! They’ve abandoned their bowls by the kitchen fires, and when I found them again…well…such bold fuckery is this! They’re having sex upon the hood of their car, in broad view of all the Gods and camp! What now?!”

“Well, that escalated quickly!” The priestess exclaims! “There are younglings in camp! Tell these trespassers they must go!” and off he goes to confront them.

Bacchus (Dionysus) and Ariadne by Caesar Van Everdingen 1660

Gossip flies faster than besoms, and as one psychic wave of movement the temple empties of curious witches, to see what spectacle ruts upon their car. Laughing, hooting, joking through the tiki-lit path, elated by wine and the ecstasy of their dance, they circle round the cemetery grounds, a mob of cloaked and hooded witches, eyes bright with power. As just ahead, their emissary crosses out of the trees ahead of them, to confront the cowans in their compromising desire…

Lo and gotdamned behold, in the chill of this November night, this middle-aged woman is bent over the hood of their sedan, skirt raised, and him mounted behind her, pants around his knees. In wanton, animal exhibition, overtaken by their salacious hunger, and the bear chili just wasn’t enough! Though they still don’t know they’ve stumbled into their first Witches Sabbat! What a fateful sabbat night!

The couple startles at their approach. Poor trespassing cowans, such rude coitus-interuptus…alas… Quick! pants jumped up, skirts smoothed down, and flying ’round the hood, they bolt into their car, just as the emissary reaches the open, driver’s window, leaning in to say…. “You are at the Witches’ Sabbat. This is our Rite of Samhain that you’ve trespassed. You must leave now.”

At just this perfectly-timed moment, our inebriated, and hilarious coven, 20 witches strong, breaks through the treeline into the full moon light of the grassy lot, all fire and hoods and swishing cloaks, and not yet knowing what was just revealed to these trespassers, takes up a beating chant of… “sa-cri-fice…sa-cri-fice…sa-cri-fice….”

Hearing us, our emissary breaks into puckish laughter, as their eyes grow wide as the full moon itself, and without a word, she throws the car into reverse! Without care of any of us standing around, she skids into gear and with dust flying, tears out of our woods like a bat out of Hades, never to return.

With a hearty, drunken, Hail and Farewell, we closed the outer gates at the road, banishing all fear behind them. We then resumed our glorious revels. Lo, that fateful Sabbat night!

Jason "Pan" Mankey and Heron Michelle, Samhain 2016 Visit in North Carolina

Jason “Pan” Mankey and Heron Michelle, Samhain 2016 Visit in North Carolina

Moral of the Story:

Remember, my witches, that the power of the Old Gods is alive and well and regaining strength here in the middle world. We invoke them into these material spaces, and with our own voices we sing their songs; with our feet we dance their dances; with our bodies we make music and love all as worship. And ALL the music, and ALL the dances, throughout all time, are just as much THEIRS as the ancients tunes. We prepare ourselves to be their vessels and of our own free will we do that Work. We are transformed, but so is the world around us.

Remember that this power is emanating like a magnet that is so strong that it awakens the general populace – the veil drawn back from their eyes so that they, too, may see again. They call this the apocalypse, and it is a real thing. This is why we are here at this time. This is the Great Work of Witchcraft; that our work of personal evolution and remembering of our ancient power, will eventually level-up all of humanity around us.

That being said, I don’t advise letting random strangers gate-crash your magickal workings. Tread the path with wisdom and great care, for you are incarnate gods. May your sabbats never be boring!

A secondary moral of this story is never underestimate the power, sincerity and skill of Jason “Pan” Mankey. He is a genuine and valuable witch, priest and human being, and I consider myself lucky to have stood on sacred ground with him.

May the Gods preserve the Craft!
~Heron Michelle

aka “Story Morrison”

Prologue

Silliness of my story aside, last Samhain The Sojo Circle flew Jason Mankey out to join us for our three day sabbat camp-out at St. Anne’s Chapel – a 100 year old adorable, 1 room church with family cemetery, surrounded by trees, that lies in a crossroads out in the countryside of uber-conservative, Tarboro, North Carolina. The only neighbors – far enough away that it is unlikely anyone could physically hear us- are farmer’s fields and a huge, ugly, conservative warehouse church. There was no indication at the road that anything was going on that night, besides this green sign:

The only sign at the gate on the country road, that led the trespassers to our Sabbat, in the dark of a late Samhain night. ~photo Heron Michelle

My conclusion to all this excitement is that Jason is one badass priest! He happens to be the editor of this Patheos Pagan Channel, an author with Llewellyn, and the intrepid blogger of Raise the Horns. All of those accolades aside, he is an long-time friend of mine, and is good company to have around ye’ old sabbat campfire.

My favorite of all his fine offerings is his Morrison Ritual…as in, Jim Morrison of The Doors…invoked as an incarnation of the God Dionysus….via his music and spoken poetry. Yes, that Dionysus…the god of winemaking and joy… Also known as Bacchus with his Bacchanal of hedonism and exuberant enjoyment of life.

It is a very rock-n-roll kind of ritual that should be taken very seriously, all while having a blast.You would not be disappointed should you choose to hire him to travel to your community to teach and lead. This is some serious and important witchcraft. Even the distant natives become restless! This ritual changed my life in many excellent ways. It was here I was given the new Clan name of “Story Morrison.” Eventually I even landed this blog….so I could tell our stories. Go Figure. HAIL DIONYSUS!

“Dionysus was a god known for his lightheartedness and always offered his help to anyone in need. He was therefore very popular among gods and mortals… Dionysus was one of the Olympian gods who actually did not live in Mount Olympus but was constantly traveling around the world together with Satyrs and Maenads in order to discover the secrets of winemaking.” source

Magic or Magick

Prayers, Poems, Blessings & Stories

Previous Post

May 5, 2017

Inner Mystery Ritual of the Witch's Simple Feast

Next Post

May 17, 2017 Shopkeeper Sagas: Frankenstein and Myrrph

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Arts, Crafts & Cooking Business Cermony and Liturgy Columns Comedy Community Death Elemental Witchcraft Health and Wellness Holidays Interfaith Life Love, Sex & Relationships Magic or Magick Nature Politics Prayers, Poems, Blessings & Stories Recipes Rites of Passage Ritual and Practice Science and Research Shopkeeper Saga Technology Theology, Ethics, Philosophy Uncategorized Witch on Fire

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 November 2025 September 2025 August 2025 May 2025 November 2024 September 2024 August 2024 March 2024 February 2024 December 2023 September 2023 August 2023 May 2023 February 2023 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 April 2022 March 2022 December 2021 November 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 December 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 August 2015 July 2015

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

An entire city of 120,000 people repented, yet I was angry when God relented from judgment. Why was I displeased?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Because I looked foolish Because they were enemies Because God showed mercy Because my prophecy failed