Exploring Occult Symbolism From a History and Herstory Perspective of Education: Part 19 – Epilogue

What I have written in this series is true and accurate to the best of my current knowledge. As I learn more, my opinions and viewpoints may change. Others are welcome to disagree with my conclusions. In such cases, I’m interested in hearing information from additional sources that may help to improve and/or expand my understandings.

As many have said, knowledge is power. I feel empowered by what I have learned through my research into occult symbols. Like my interpretation of Durer’s Melancholia, I once felt overwhelmed and crowded by symbols that I thought I *ought* to know. Now, life feels more like a journey of in which I’m free to create my own path opposed to feeling like I need to discover set milestones and met a specific destination. Feelings. They are important.

For many people, my realisation that teachings of love are at the heart of Christianity will be of no surprise. For thousands of years, people have gathered together, praying, given thanks, and practiced Love. For me the journey has been different. I had to dissect ancient symbols from the Bible and elsewhere. I had to pull them all apart, examine their shape, form, colour, texture, and tone, and see what was inside. I needed to check my psychology books and the latest neuroscience studies. I was convinced that I needed to use my mind to work out the riddles and intellectualise the symbols before coming to a firm conclusion of their meaning. But I finally get it, some symbols can only being understood by emotional experience. Love needs to be felt, not intellectualised.

I’ve come to the conclusion that blending Love with the Creative impulse is what matters most in life. The Bible says God is our Creator and that our Creator greatest gift is Love. The Bible also says we are made in his image. Love and Creation. I think my mind could ponder upon these concepts for a lifetime, maybe more.

Throughout my posts, I have been very critical of the Roman Catholic Church. I have used it as the centre piece to explain patriarchal dominance and the damage it can create (especially if blended with religious ideology), but it is by no means the only cult that encourages misogyny that has become a culture. But it is my culture. It was the cult I was raised in. It is what I can speak about with authenticity. (Scholars of other faiths are better positioned to speak authenticity about their experiences and insights, e.g., Sachiko Murata, author of The Tao of Islam.)

Do I feel like my “parents” lied to me about some of the meanings of symbolic gestures, just like my son felt lied to when he found out Santa Claus was not real? Yes, I do feel lied to. Can the Catholic Church ever be trusted? Yes, I think it can. To explain, I need to first tell of an experience I had when working in a government school over ten years ago.

I was required to teach a woodwork class. This was fine, I have university level training in woodwork (which I was required to show the school’s technology coordinator; note, this is the only school in which I have every been asked to prove my qualifications, and I suspect this coordinator never asked the same of male teachers … in fact I know some of the male teachers in the technology department did not have qualifications in woodwork). The class was all boys, 15-16 years olds. In the second lesson, one of them said: “Shouldn’t we be teaching you woodwork?”

“Why?” I asked him. I knew what he was implying but I wanted to see how brazen he was.

“Because you’re a woman and we are males!” He said with confidence, and the whole class burst into laughter.

I was shocked that he could be so blatantly sexist.

The student was reprimanded by the female vice principal. But the problem didn’t stop there. Sexism never stops at just one comment. The boys refused to listen to me. To them, the fact that I had female genitals seemed to equal no brain or skills in woodwork. It was the toughest semester of teaching I’ve ever endured. I began to question my identity and self worth. Was I being true to my femininity by teaching woodwork? I’d asked myself this question while doing my teacher training but seeing as I was within an environment of twenty or so other female woodwork teachers, it was a no brainer. Further, on my teaching rounds and in other brief wood working teaching roles, my gender had not been an issue. Now, however, I would walk into classes almost shaking because I knew if I made any slip ups, like using the drill without pre-checking the last person hadn’t left in reverse then it would not be seen as simple error that anyone could make, it would be seen as an excuse to ridicule me for being female. I had some support from a few male colleagues, but there were also a couple of staff members who were closet chauvinists who sided with the boys.

A few years later, I was offered a position teaching woodwork at a Catholic boys school. I wanted to take it because it was closer to home than my current position (which was at an Islamic school; I loved teaching at the Islamic school but it was 1.5 hours away from my home), but I feared being subjected to the same abuse I’d encountered at the government school, so I told the agency who offered me the position that I didn’t think I could take the position. I was encouraged to go to the interview anyway before completely rejecting the offer. As soon as I entered the school, which was the first time I’d entered a Catholic school since being a teenage student (I left half way through year nine due to bullying issues), I felt a since of warmth that I was not expecting. The vice principal met me with a grin and said: “I heard you’re worried about teaching woodwork to boys. Don’t worry they are used to it, the woodwork teacher you’re filling for is female. If you have any issues, we’ll deal with it.”

I took the position and I’m glad I did. It was one of the most amazing teaching experiences I’ve ever had. All the staff were supportive, not just to me, but to each other. People listened to each other with compassion and every effort was made to ensure I did not experience any sexist attitudes from the students. I was made to feel welcome every day I entered the buildings. Full truth be told, while I was teaching at the school, I was also dealing with an uterine tumour. A few weeks before the end of my contract I was told the tumour might be cancerous. I contemplated keeping the news from my colleagues, but I didn’t. The technology coordinator on more than one occasion had openly mentioned that himself and many members of his immediate family had faced the challenge of overcoming cancerous tumours. He’d also freely said that a workplace was a person’s main social outlet, therefore, if people weren’t able to open with those they worked with, then most of lives were lived in a state of pretentiousness. When I told him of my predicament, he gave me one of the most sincere hugs I’ve ever experienced. Gone were the hierarchal titles of coordinator and teacher, contract worker and permanent staff. It was a human to human interaction of compassion. I’d finished my contact by the time I’d found out the tumour was benign but he was on the list of people I had to tell my good news to. I learned a valuable lesson: love requires openness, authenticity, and vulnerability in order to be shared. (My studies of trauma confirm this to be true, namely, due to Brené Brown work on shame and vulnerability.)

I loved the experience of teaching at an all boys school so much that I looked for more opportunities to do so. For my second time employed at a Catholic boys school I was required to teach art, however, the school did have a female teacher in their technology department. Once again, I felt like I was in a supportive environment. Likewise, in other Catholic schools I’ve worked at that have been co-educational or all girls, I have been met with what my technical mind would describe as trauma-informed environments, albeit they did not call themselves that. Some of the examples of charity and care that I’ve witnessed in Catholic education are so moving they’ll stay with me forever. For example, I witnessed another staff member having a break down to which the leadership went above and beyond to support them, and at a school with a high number of refuges, we were given professional development about the war and Sudanese culture so as us we could better understand the children we were teaching. None of these schools expected or demanded that the students be Catholic, it was all done in the name of love.

If by chance, my writings reach the Vatican, then I hope that the Pope responds with the word “sorry”. The issues I have brought up, such the hidden sexist Aristotelian influence in theology, not allowing women access to an education, and not being forthright about the meaning of symbols, are all things done in the past but the repercussions are still felt today. Forgiveness is an aspect of love. Forgiveness comes after confessions of transgressions. The Catholic Church knows this. Perhaps the Pope has been waiting for someone to confront the Church about its transgressions before apologising?

As most people know, Catholic schools have had a bad wrap because of historical sexual abuse allegations. In my observations this has been taken very seriously, and great efforts to protect children have been implemented. Specifically, in both boys schools that I worked at I saw explicit and implicit efforts made to ensure history did not repeat itself and that, if necessary, those affected were provided support to heal. In other words, learning from the past has occurred. The Catholic Church is not perfect, nor is it a single person or bunch of doctrines, like all religions, it a group of people.

In 2008, Pope Benedict XVI apologised in Australia for historical sexual abuse by priests and clergymen, and in do so, contributed to the improved culture within Catholic schools which I have been privy to observing. In a similar vein, the Australian government has apologised for the abusive treatment of First Nation People; this did not change the past but it has helped to redirect the future in such away that active measures are being to taken to ensure support is offered to heal the collective trauma. The anecdotal evidence is clear, apologies from leadership help set the tone for followers to re-evaluate their own beliefs, attitudes, assumptions, and behaviours, and prevent further abuses.

Until the atrocities of the Church’s past are recognised and apologised for, moving ahead is challenging. However, it must be made clear that Christianity and/or the Catholic Church are not necessarily the adverse influence. If an “enemy” must be identified, then that entity is Roman culture, a culture that began as a small cult of people who occupied a very small region of Italy, Rome, in 500BC. Most of Ancient Italy was dominated by the Etruscans; a culture that had values that emulated gender egalitarian. In fact Ancient Greeks of the Classical era were shocked that Etruscan women had as many freedoms as Etruscan men. The Etruscans were a fun loving culture with sincere family values that can still be found amongst contemporary Italians. (My research suggests Greeks adopted patriarchy along with many other beliefs from the Persians; the Mesopotamian region has a long history of patriarchal leadership that stems back to the Sumerian era.)

Over the span of a few hundred years, Roman’s took control of western civilisations by rebranding and reinventing many facets of other cultures. A pinnacle point was when they seized a Phoenician boat (Hebrew’s called the Phoenicians Canaanites), took it apart, then rebuilt it with improved engineering. By doing so they were to able to win water battles against the Phoenicians and decimate Carthage. Winning the wars (called the Punic wars, 264 – 146 BC) gave the Romans leverage and paved the way for them to dominate the Mediterranean region. I’m not sure how to feel about this. The people of Carthage were sacrificing children to their Gods, a practice despised by Romans, Greeks, Hebrews, and many others, including myself. But was it necessary to wipe out a culture that demanded human sacrifices? Or was it possible to persuaded the Carthaginians to stop murdering their babies by another means? Anyway, that’s not what happened, and Roman’s went on to slaughter thousands of people, including Etruscans, Druids, Celts, Gauls, and others who may or may not have practiced human sacrifices.

Whenever the Roman’s took over a populated region, they would take apart all that they considered to be of value. Basically, they’d reverse engineer then put things back together with a Roman touch. They did this to physical objects (like Phoenician boats and Greek architecture) and to conceptual objects, like Greek literature, hence, Zeus became Jupiter, Hera became Juno, Poseidon became Neptune, Aphrodite became Venus, and so forth. The Roman versions are not completely equivalent to the Greek; the Greek concepts took on Roman attributes and values, but history doesn’t always make that distinction clear (for example, the myth of Narcissus is often referred to a a Greek myth but it was written by a Roman, Ovid, who studied Greek literature then emulated the style in Latin). Likewise, when Emperor Constantine took over Christianity, the attributes and values of Early Christianity became Romanised.

It is not always easy to pierce through the Roman coating of Christianity; it’s armour is thick but not completely impenetrable. By the way, the tradition of knights, as in Christian knights, with armour and all that stuff, began with Roman equestrian cavalry. Likewise, contemporary ideals of romance also stem from Roman culture, i.e., courting rituals of the Romans were regarded as being perfect, hence, to be “roman”-tic was to behave like a Roman. And, Romance languages (French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Romanian, etc.), you guessed it, evolved from the Roman language of Latin.

Roman culture has its merits. Hence, it has endured for over two thousand years. Romans had a knack for reworking the best of cultures, albeit, by adapting and readapting the ideas of others they could be considered professional plagiarisers. Or they could be considered to be innovators, artists or creators who built upon existing knowledge to form new ideas, inventions, and ways of doing things. Whether or not all Roman versions of things are better than the original may come down to matter of opinions and/or a realisation that history is made up of people, and people do not fit into neat categories of absolutes.

The Roman Empire has been crumbling into a slow demise for a very long time – the Western Roman Empire began to fall in 395, sparked by battles with the Visigoths, and Eastern Roman Empire fell in 1453, due to battles with Muslims. The Latin language is a dead but Rome lives on in many other forms

Is it fair of me to lump the majority of patriarchal sins and Christianity’s transgressions upon a a group of people and a culture that has diminished? Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe the Roman Empire has finally fallen because the majority of people, people of all genders who have access to education, no longer support Roman values?

It is very difficult for one to leave the cult that they are born into, moreover, the culture that is most familiar to them. About ten years ago, I was fortunate to be able to do a couple of brief visits to Europe as a tourist. High on my priority list was visiting Catholic sites of significance, like the Vatican and various cathedrals. I wanted to see these places even though I’d officially left my Catholicism behind in 1993 when I stopped attending regular mass services. One of the things that stood out for me while traveling was how at “home” I felt in Italy. I have no Italian relatives and apart from a few Italian words that I learned in primary school, technically I have no connection to the country. Therefore, I suspect my bond had something to do with my of awe of the artworks, artefacts, and architecture that I’d appreciated from a far for a very long time. Then and now, I have an uneasy feeling about how they were funded (indulgence revenue), nonetheless, I cannot imagine a world without the masterpieces of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Raphael, Tintoretto, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Donatello, Titian, and many more. When push comes to shove, I do not wish to see the destruction of Catholicism, but I do hope the Church has the courage to look back upon its past and take steps away from hierarchical doctrines and move towards embracing the core principle of Early Christianity: Love.

At the start of this series of blogs I described my passion for art, history, and psychology that drove me to conduct in-depth research. Now, I must make a final confession. I have had an alternate motive. I have a loved one who is ensnared in a destructive cult. They have been told many lies. Amidst the cult leader’s claims, is that they are teaching the doctrines of Early Christians. The cult does not affiliate themselves with any organised order, however, the characteristics of their leader are recognisable in many Christian cults across time and cultures. This particular cult leader claims their interpretation of Biblical symbolism is more true than any others. I can see how they got it all wrong. History is full of examples of people who have done likewise.

How can this cult leader be judged as a false prophet, a wolf in sheep’s clothings? Simple, their theology and associated doctrines cause harm. They do not put love and healing in the forefront of their teachings. Specifically, they interpret symbols too literally, like blood and disease. They think that to honour God, real blood ties must be broken, and they overlook the role of the nervous system in healing. Further, they interpret the Book of Revelation to be about the end of the world because they do not see that the horseman with a cloak dipped in blood is a cloak dipped in love. The Book of Revelation is not an apocalypse, despite the face value of some of the symbols. When the space between the objects are seen then the Book of Revelation is a document of hope, it prophecies love conquering evil.

Loosing my loved one from my life has turned my world upside down and inside out. In my desire to understand how it happened, I was compelled to reexamine things I thought knew but as it turned out, I did not know as much as I thought I did. Above all, I’ve had to re-examine my beliefs and my faith; moreover, where these came from.

To say one must drink blood the blood of Jesus in order to have salvation, is a curious thing. But when I silence my mind and sit in quiet contemplation, I become consciously aware of the sensation of blood circulating through my body and the functioning of my heart, and then I get this feeling that makes me wonder, how else is one supposed to describe the complexities of love?