Another Shemsu, and two beautiful boys Rootnamed!

Em hotep!

Tonight we had about 30 members come for the Naming of one of our Shemsu and Daryt's little boys received their Rootnames.

Nekhtet! for Shemsu Subaitui and our newest children in the faith, Hethertemheb-ka and Uasetemheb.

These ceremonies are always very happy. I'll probably have a smile on my face for hours now, as I'm sure our newly-named will and Hebka and Uaheb's godparents too.

Nekhtet! again. I'll be checking in soon, either here or on the Facebook or Twitter pages. Lots of news for this time of year.

Eight years ago...

I wrote an essay about the events of 11 September. I don't have to tell you what events those were, or where they happened, or what happened afterward, as I believe that anyone who is on the Internet in 2009 has to be quite aware of what they were (and are). It's hard to believe it has been eight years since Ini and I sat in a living room with five telephones between us, waiting for them to ring or making calls to try and account for all of our loved ones who were involved in the situations that unfolded that day. It's hard to believe that those we did lose have been in the West that long, or that our naive thought that "we'll get the people who did this" was just that naive.

Eight years in, grief is different. It is no less sharp or painful; it hurts the heart no less than it did at the moment it arrived. But we have learned to live with this grief now. It is no longer the unwanted guest that no one knows how to deal with, but the expected party-crasher that simply will not leave. We have gone from trying to push our grief out of our minds to learning all of its angles in an effort to make peace with it, to try and keep it from spreading any further than it already has. Like the events of that day in 2001, our grief cannot be undone, it can only be accepted, reluctantly.

Acceptance requires perspective. We should never forget what happened that day, nor should we allow our grief to be lessened simply because we are more comfortable with it. At the same time we cannot allow it to rule our lives or to skew our perspectives of everything else. Other tragedies, other griefs, have come before and came after, and will continue to come. This one event, while significant to some, is less significant to others. Its relative importance must neither be understated nor overstated. We can neither pretend it never happened, nor pretend that the repercussions and responsibilities that happened after are not as important as the initial events of 11 September 2001.

I'm using a lot of big words, so I'll stop.

Do not forget the past. Do not forget those in the beautiful West, who were killed or who gave their lives trying to save others. Remember them at this time and every time you remember your Akhu. Remember all those who have died since, in the military actions designed ostensibly to punish those responsible. Remember all those who have suffered from religious persecution or other persecution simply because one group allows its own grief to overshadow the grief of another group, and use it as a lesson in your own life. Your grief is yours, and while you know it better than someone else's, it neither cancels theirs nor renders theirs less important. Both are evils we face, and there is greater evil in forgetting this.

I made the audacious statement in my initial letter that the gods were weeping when I entered my shrine. While that statement made its way into a commemorative volume about the tragedies, it was taken there out of context and caused some controversy. I didn't believe that the gods of ancient Egypt were specifically crying over one incident that ultimately is overshadowed by many other tragedies past and present; it wasn't a patriotic sort of "even my gods are sad for my country" comment. I believed then, and I still believe now, that the weeping I heard was not necessarily for the dead and wounded and lost and for the pandemonium of the bombings that happened that day. I think that They wept for what was to come, when even eight years later, the swath of death and destruction cut by the forces set into motion that day continues to spread.

I think about the news we got this morning that three platoonmates of one of my students in Iraq were killed by a roadside bomb. I think about the handful of students I have in Afghanistan, most of whom I can't even get in touch with because they are moving around in dangerous places with no way to contact home. I think about the people I talked to in Egypt last year, about the Muslims I know here in the USA, who face even more difficulties in the world simply for the colors of their skins or the name of their God. I think about the burden on the shoulders of our world's leaders to deal with terrorism in all its forms, and the things they end up having to do to try to cope with that burden. These are the things that make my gods weep. These are the griefs we must learn to live with and lessen wherever and whenever we can, no matter who we are. These are the lessons of the past and the present.

I wrote <a href="http://www.kemet.org/letters/akhet02-ix.html">an essay about the events of 11 September.</a> I don't have to tell you what events those were, or where they happened, or what happened afterward, as I believe that anyone who is on the Internet in 2009 has to be quite aware of what they were (and are). It's hard to believe it has been eight years since Ini and I sat in a living room with five telephones between us, waiting for them to ring or making calls to try and account for all of our loved ones who were involved in the situations that unfolded that day. It's hard to believe that those we did lose have been in the West that long, or that our naive thought that "we'll get the people who did this" was just that naive. 
 
Eight years in, grief is different. It is no less sharp or painful; it hurts the heart no less than it did at the moment it arrived. But we have learned to live with this grief now. It is no longer the unwanted guest that no one knows how to deal with, but the expected party-crasher that simply will not leave. We have gone from trying to push our grief out of our minds to learning all of its angles in an effort to make peace with it, to try and keep it from spreading any further than it already has. Like the events of that day in 2001, our grief cannot be undone, it can only be accepted, reluctantly. 
 
Acceptance requires perspective. We should never forget what happened that day, nor should we allow our grief to be lessened simply because we are more comfortable with it. At the same time we cannot allow it to rule our lives or to skew our perspectives of everything else. Other tragedies, other griefs, have come before and came after, and will continue to come. This one event, while significant to some, is less significant to others. Its relative importance must neither be understated nor overstated. We can neither pretend it never happened, nor pretend that the repercussions and responsibilities that happened after are not as important as the initial events of 11 September 2001. 
 
I'm using a lot of big words, so I'll stop. 
 
Do not forget the past. Do not forget those in the beautiful West, who were killed or who gave their lives trying to save others. Remember them at this time and every time you remember your Akhu. Remember all those who have died since, in the military actions designed ostensibly to punish those responsible. Remember all those who have suffered from religious persecution or other persecution simply because one group allows its own grief to overshadow the grief of another group, and use it as a lesson in your own life. Your grief is yours, and while you know it better than someone else's, it neither cancels theirs nor renders theirs less important. Both are evils we face, and there is greater evil in forgetting this. 
 
I made the audacious statement in my initial letter that the gods were weeping when I entered my shrine. While that statement made its way into a commemorative volume about the tragedies, it was taken there out of context and caused some controversy. I didn't believe that the gods of ancient Egypt were specifically crying over one incident that ultimately is overshadowed by many other tragedies past and present; it wasn't a patriotic sort of "even my gods are sad for my country" comment. I believed then, and I still believe now, that the weeping I heard was not necessarily for the dead and wounded and lost and for the pandemonium of the bombings that happened that day. I think that They wept for what was to come, when even eight years later, the swath of death and destruction cut by the forces set into motion that day continues to spread. 
 
I think about the news we got this morning that three platoonmates of one of my students in Iraq were killed by a roadside bomb. I think about the handful of students I have in Afghanistan, most of whom I can't even get in touch with because they are moving around in dangerous places with no way to contact home. I think about the people I talked to in Egypt last year, about the Muslims I know here in the USA, who face even more difficulties in the world simply for the colors of their skins or the name of their God. I think about the burden on the shoulders of our world's leaders to deal with terrorism in all its forms, and the things they end up having to do to try to cope with that burden. These are the things that make my gods weep. These are the griefs we must learn to live with and lessen wherever and whenever we can, no matter who we are. These are the lessons of the past and the present.

This Podcast is the End!

Kai-Imakhu Antybast (a.k.a. Rev. Craig) had some fun in the Kemet This Week podcast this week, talking about the end of the world. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.

Back to work

Back to work after time to deal with the medical tests (results: same as last year, which is both good news in that it's not any worse, and bad news in that it's not any better. Interesting feeling, to be relieved and frustrated at the same time...)

There's quite a bit going on at the temple as autumn begins. Last weekend we hosted the Wag Festival here in honor of the ancestors, or Akhu. We visited several cemeteries, including two potters' fields and the largest cemetery here in Joliet, Oakwood. Many photographs and stories were shared, and there's quite a bit of material about the blessed dead that we gathered. I may post some of it here, just for interest's sake. Gatherings are being planned and classes are resuming for our students and teachers. The Year 17 calendar is available from the Seminary, and a hardcover version of the Prayerbook is awaiting ISBN approval. There are trips later in the year, including our annual pilgrimage to Kemet and the Parliament of the World's Religions (Melbourne, Australia in December). People will be coming to visit to do work-study and share ceremonies with us and we will be visiting them too.

I'll do my best to keep up with you as we engage in all these busy things. For those who shared Retreat with me, tomorrow is the day that you want to open up your New Year's letters! (I've got those you left for me to mail you in the mail and you should receive them soon). It's been a month since the Opening of the Year. How are you doing on your resolutions and plans and challenges? My prayers, and my love, are with you all.

Back to work after time to deal with the medical tests (results: same as last year, which is both good news in that it's not any worse, and bad news in that it's not any better. Interesting feeling, to be relieved and frustrated at the same time...) 
 
There's quite a bit going on at the temple as autumn begins. Last weekend we hosted the Wag Festival here in honor of the ancestors, or Akhu. We visited several cemeteries, including two potters' fields and the largest cemetery here in Joliet, Oakwood. Many photographs and stories were shared, and there's quite a bit of material about the blessed dead that we gathered. I may post some of it here, just for interest's sake. Gatherings are being planned and classes are resuming for our students and teachers. The Year 17 calendar is available from the <a href="http://www.kemetschool.org">Seminary,</a> and a hardcover version of the <a href="http://www.egyptianprayers.com">Prayerbook</a> is awaiting ISBN approval. There are trips later in the year, including our annual pilgrimage to Kemet and the <a href="http://www.cpwr.org">Parliament of the World's Religions</a> (Melbourne, Australia in December). People will be coming to visit to do work-study and share ceremonies with us and we will be visiting them too. 
 
I'll do my best to keep up with you as we engage in all these busy things. For those who shared Retreat with me, tomorrow is the day that you want to open up your New Year's letters! (I've got those you left for me to mail you in the mail and you should receive them soon). It's been a month since the Opening of the Year. How are you doing on your resolutions and plans and challenges? My prayers, and my love, are with you all. </save>

A quick response to yesterday's blog!

It seems Djehuty's speed is still definitely happening with words and their impact. This morning I finally got a response from the people I'd phoned last week. Seems they have been listening to the desire not to lose the property to a frivolous purpose... and they're evidently working with a group to open a center for the kids in the neighborhood using the building as a focus.

This is something I can definitely get behind, and we'll support it 100%. They said that while this project is going on they are "not entertaining other offers for the property" so at very least my fears that the building will be lost are not a reality right now. And this is very good.

I'll keep you posted about it. For now, however, it's time to get myself to those tests.

This week's work and thoughts

Em hotep (in peace!)

As I promised Tamiwi, my "new year's buddy," I will write something in this blog at least once a week....so here we go. I apologize that it's not nearly as eloquent as the Kemet This Week podcast that Kai Antybast put up about our ancestors, but I am also thinking about the past and the future as is pretty apt during Wag Festival time.

The year of Do-ing is underway. There's been a great deal of talk among our congregation and planning for various things. We'll be hosting a gathering here in Joliet again next weekend for Wag Festival. School is about to resume in the US and so a majority of us are either readying ourselves or our children for the year to come. I'm readying myself, too; on Wep Ronpet morning, fittingly for the year of Djehuty, I finally received the news after 18 months of working out the details that my doctoral candidacy is on and the preliminary research stage of my Ph.D. work is about to begin.

It's definitely a busy August. In addition to the work around the doctorate I'm readying for an annual exam of the liver tumor I was diagnosed with in 2006. It's benign, so the tests are to confirm that it's still benign and to see if it's changed in size at all. The hope is that the hysterectomy I had right after it was discovered will cause it to go away eventually. After next week I suppose we'll know if we're getting anywhere. Most people would probably be terrified to talk about this kind of stuff. I can't say I'm not anxious about the testing, but since I've walked this particular walk before I know how it works and know it's not time for panic. (I am a cancer survivor from my 20s; the reason I even have the tumor is probably connected to treatments I had then).

While this is going on there's also suddenly a lot of bustling next door, as the diocese readies buildings in the church compound for sale. This is probably the biggest thing on my mind right now, actually, for a couple of reasons. One is that when we bought Tawy House Joliet back in 2003 it had been mentioned that those buildings might go for sale over the next decade, and so the possibility of expansion was a major selling-point for us.

The other is more personal. I'm furious about what they're doing to the parish. There's been a church on this block since the founding of the city. The actual church that stood next to us burned down in the 1970s, and the parish was unable to reconstruct it; instead they raised enough money to have the gymnasium portion of the parish hall/school that sat behind the church transformed into their new sanctuary. It's beautiful. From the inside you would not really be aware it was once a playing floor; even the gym windows were replaced with stained glass that depicts symbols and images of Joliet's history.

Father James passed to the beautiful West two years ago, and we knew something was wrong when there was no mention of a replacement for him. At first the assumption was that since there was a very new bishop in town perhaps they needed time to figure it out, and then when summer passed into autumn and still our neighbors were holding no masses, the truth became clear: the little Slovak church was being abandoned. Christmas came and went, and no mass...and then the week after Christmas the sister who was Father James' caretaker came to me in tears. "They've shut the church down, and they're sending someone to close it and they're going to sell the buildings."

Maybe I have some old demons to work out around Catholic closing policies. I was at Mundelein College in 1991 when the Church decided to shut it down and give its properties to its neighbor Loyola University while they shipped the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary who had founded the place as one of the first women's colleges in the midst of the Great Depression back to Iowa, to live out their days quietly in a convent rather than to teach young women.

As the editor of the college paper I was deeply involved in covering that entire process of Mundelein's demise, and even after desperate attempts to save the school including raising the amount of money they said we needed to stay open via a personal appeal to Oprah Winfrey (her producer was a Mundelein alumna and she's always supported women's causes), and audiences with the Cardinal and even the Holy Father in Rome...we lost the school anyway.

Not very long after they started talking about the "merger" we found out this had been the plan all along regardless of what faculty, staff, students or alumnae wanted. The architects of the plan were rewarded by getting their names put on the buildings that weren't torn down or sold off, and five years later all mention of the women's college disappeared except for a token gesture of allowing one of the buildings to house a "women's studies" archive. The most vocal of Mundelein's faculty were forced out (illegally given tenure laws mind you), and spent years in legal suits trying to recoup their losses. What happened at Mundelein was perhaps my first really negative experience with organized religion, and reminded me that even the most zealous and caring servants of the Divine might sometimes make decisions based entirely on finances.

So my heart broke when I talked to Sister and some of the parishioners. I knew exactly what they were going through, as I'd been through it myself. They were feeling the grief that no matter how hard they had tried to save their home and history, some person or persons who had nothing at all to do with them had made a business decision and it was all over. I asked one of the Latino parisioners why they couldn't relocate the very large congregation a few blocks west of here who meet in an old big-box storefront, so that they could have a "real" and beautiful church to worship in instead of an empty shell of a building and so that the historic church next door would not be sold and torn down or made into something else. "They need money," was all I got in response.

The sale is evidently on. Sister is being moved out on Thursday, to a convent 30 miles or so east of here. Her house will go on sale sometime later in the week. The three elderly Mexican sisters currently renting the rectory where Father James used to live are trying to convince the bishop to let them move into the smaller house, but we don't know if they will be successful.

Some local restaurateur is interested in the church/parish hall to gut it and turn it into a banquet facility and restaurant; another, who according to parishioners has political connections, is interested in making it into a nursing home facility. Nobody seems interested in keeping it a church, and one of the oldest churches in Joliet. Nobody seems to want to let the Latino Catholic community, which could really use a bigger and more suitable place to worship their God, use this perfectly good and beautiful place, because the diocese needs money to help pay off their bills and legal issues and the place they are now wouldn't sell as well. Nobody seems to care that the parishioners who went to this church since the founding of the city, the descendants of the Slovenian steel workers whose families are all buried in the church yard a few miles down Route 6, will lose the last connection they have to this location and their traditional house of worship. Nobody seems to care that the neighborhood is going to lose a great opportunity to do something for its people and replace it with outsiders who just want to develop it to make money. Nobody seems to care about how wrong this is.

Nobody but me, anyway. I talked to them, and told them if I can figure out a way to make this happen I will open a community center in the parish school building, something sorely lacking in this neighborhood that we could really use to keep our kids happy and safe and not falling into crime and gangs like they are a few blocks over across the tracks.

I told them that I don't think there's any reason why the Latinos can't rent the church from us to hold masses in, so they don't have to be in that stupid storefront. There's nothing we use in our ceremonies that couldn't be put away or moved out of the way during times when they would be present, and I cannot think of any reason why my gods would object to us sharing our holy places with other devout people who just need a place to pray. After all, we did it with a number of temples in classical times for centuries. Contrary to rumor, it was not Christianity that killed our gods' worship in Kemet; it was Roman pagan emperors like Septimius Severus who limited participation and the use of Kemetic language and ritual first. Christians and worshippers of Netjer honored the gods alongside each other in our temples for a very long time. At Philae our priesthood even gave the Christians a part of the hypostyle hall to put a church in for their use, while Aset "Mother of God" was being worshipped a couple of doorways further in.

I've put in calls to the diocese, and the parishioners are encouraging me to just go over to their offices and talk to them directly about what can or cannot be done. It's an empty building now, has been for a year and a half, and there doesn't seem to be any good reason to allow a part of Joliet history to disappear without comment.

It's one of those days when I wish I was wealthy in money and not just in spirit. I know we can do good things for the community while we honor our gods. We'd have to have more people move here to help, and it would take a depth of commitment that we've never asked for before, but we made a miracle happen when we bought the first building and the faith was about half the size it is now.

I've got so much on my mind around this. To quote an old film, "if you build it they will come." But I don't know what to do, really. I don't know if this is something my people want, or it's just a dream I have to help the place I live and the people who don't deserve what is happening to them while at the same time helping my own dream for our own faith to grow. We don't have the money to make any outright purchase, and there aren't enough people here in the area yet to help do the things we'd want to do with the property. But would they be interested? Would they come? Would it work? Does the church need to be saved, or is this just my nostalgic history-loving soul bemoaning the fate of progress? I don't know.

Terecita said "I will pray so very hard..." after I told her about what we would do with the place if we could figure out how to acquire it. I'm praying hard. Something good needs to happen next door, whether that's caused by us or somebody else, or whether the property goes to new hands and they manage to figure out a way to do something new with it that doesn't disrespect the ancestors who went before. It doesn't matter that they're Catholic and we aren't. God is God, on a certain level. May God and God's people be served no matter what happens.

Em hotep (in peace!) 
 
As I promised Tamiwi, my "new year's buddy," I will write something in this blog at least once a week....so here we go. I apologize that it's not nearly as eloquent as the <a href="http://kemetthisweek.libsyn.org">Kemet This Week</a> podcast that Kai Antybast put up about our ancestors, but I am also thinking about the past and the future as is pretty apt during Wag Festival time. 
 
The year of Do-ing is underway. There's been a great deal of talk among our congregation and planning for various things. We'll be hosting a gathering here in Joliet again next weekend for Wag Festival. School is about to resume in the US and so a majority of us are either readying ourselves or our children for the year to come. I'm readying myself, too; on Wep Ronpet morning, fittingly for the year of Djehuty, I finally received the news after 18 months of working out the details that my doctoral candidacy is on and the preliminary research stage of my Ph.D. work is about to begin. 
 
It's definitely a busy August. In addition to the work around the doctorate I'm readying for an annual exam of the liver tumor I was diagnosed with in 2006. It's benign, so the tests are to confirm that it's still benign and to see if it's changed in size at all. The hope is that the hysterectomy I had right after it was discovered will cause it to go away eventually. After next week I suppose we'll know if we're getting anywhere. Most people would probably be terrified to talk about this kind of stuff. I can't say I'm not anxious about the testing, but since I've walked this particular walk before I know how it works and know it's not time for panic. (I am a cancer survivor from my 20s; the reason I even have the tumor is probably connected to treatments I had then). 
 
While this is going on there's also suddenly a lot of bustling next door, as the diocese readies buildings in the church compound for sale. This is probably the biggest thing on my mind right now, actually, for a couple of reasons. One is that when we bought Tawy House Joliet back in 2003 it had been mentioned that those buildings might go for sale over the next decade, and so the possibility of expansion was a major selling-point for us. 
 
The other is more personal. I'm furious about what they're doing to the parish. There's been a church on this block since the founding of the city. The actual church that stood next to us burned down in the 1970s, and the parish was unable to reconstruct it; instead they raised enough money to have the gymnasium portion of the parish hall/school that sat behind the church transformed into their new sanctuary. It's beautiful. From the inside you would not really be aware it was once a playing floor; even the gym windows were replaced with stained glass that depicts symbols and images of Joliet's history. 
 
Father James passed to the beautiful West two years ago, and we knew something was wrong when there was no mention of a replacement for him. At first the assumption was that since there was a very new bishop in town perhaps they needed time to figure it out, and then when summer passed into autumn and still our neighbors were holding no masses, the truth became clear: the little Slovak church was being abandoned. Christmas came and went, and no mass...and then the week after Christmas the sister who was Father James' caretaker came to me in tears. "They've shut the church down, and they're sending someone to close it and they're going to sell the buildings." 
 
Maybe I have some old demons to work out around Catholic closing policies. I was at Mundelein College in 1991 when the Church decided to shut it down and give its properties to its neighbor Loyola University while they shipped the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary who had founded the place as one of the first women's colleges in the midst of the Great Depression back to Iowa, to live out their days quietly in a convent rather than to teach young women. 
 
As the editor of the college paper I was deeply involved in covering that entire process of Mundelein's demise, and even after desperate attempts to save the school including raising the amount of money they said we needed to stay open via a personal appeal to Oprah Winfrey (her producer was a Mundelein alumna and she's always supported women's causes), and audiences with the Cardinal and even the Holy Father in Rome...we lost the school anyway. 
 
Not very long after they started talking about the "merger" we found out this had been the plan all along regardless of what faculty, staff, students or alumnae wanted. The architects of the plan were rewarded by getting their names put on the buildings that weren't torn down or sold off, and five years later all mention of the women's college disappeared except for a token gesture of allowing one of the buildings to house a "women's studies" archive. The most vocal of Mundelein's faculty were forced out (illegally given tenure laws mind you), and spent years in legal suits trying to recoup their losses. What happened at Mundelein was perhaps my first really negative experience with organized religion, and reminded me that even the most zealous and caring servants of the Divine might sometimes make decisions based entirely on finances. 
 
So my heart broke when I talked to Sister and some of the parishioners. I knew exactly what they were going through, as I'd been through it myself. They were feeling the grief that no matter how hard they had tried to save their home and history, some person or persons who had nothing at all to do with them had made a business decision and it was all over. I asked one of the Latino parisioners why they couldn't relocate the very large congregation a few blocks west of here who meet in an old big-box storefront, so that they could have a "real" and beautiful church to worship in instead of an empty shell of a building and so that the historic church next door would not be sold and torn down or made into something else. "They need money," was all I got in response. 
 
The sale is evidently on. Sister is being moved out on Thursday, to a convent 30 miles or so east of here. Her house will go on sale sometime later in the week. The three elderly Mexican sisters currently renting the rectory where Father James used to live are trying to convince the bishop to let them move into the smaller house, but we don't know if they will be successful. 
 
Some local restaurateur is interested in the church/parish hall to gut it and turn it into a banquet facility and restaurant; another, who according to parishioners has political connections, is interested in making it into a nursing home facility. Nobody seems interested in keeping it a church, and one of the oldest churches in Joliet. Nobody seems to want to let the Latino Catholic community, which could really use a bigger and more suitable place to worship their God, use this perfectly good and beautiful place, because the diocese needs money to help pay off their bills and legal issues and the place they are now wouldn't sell as well. Nobody seems to care that the parishioners who went to this church since the founding of the city, the descendants of the Slovenian steel workers whose families are all buried in the church yard a few miles down Route 6, will lose the last connection they have to this location and their traditional house of worship. Nobody seems to care that the neighborhood is going to lose a great opportunity to do something for its people and replace it with outsiders who just want to develop it to make money. Nobody seems to care about how wrong this is. 
 
Nobody but me, anyway. I talked to them, and told them if I can figure out a way to make this happen I will open a community center in the parish school building, something sorely lacking in this neighborhood that we could really use to keep our kids happy and safe and not falling into crime and gangs like they are a few blocks over across the tracks. 
 
I told them that I don't think there's any reason why the Latinos can't rent the church from us to hold masses in, so they don't have to be in that stupid storefront. There's nothing we use in our ceremonies that couldn't be put away or moved out of the way during times when they would be present, and I cannot think of any reason why my gods would object to us sharing our holy places with other devout people who just need a place to pray. After all, we did it with a number of temples in classical times for centuries. Contrary to rumor, it was not Christianity that killed our gods' worship in Kemet; it was Roman pagan emperors like Septimius Severus who limited participation and the use of Kemetic language and ritual first. Christians and worshippers of Netjer honored the gods alongside each other in our temples for a very long time. At Philae our priesthood even gave the Christians a part of the hypostyle hall to put a church in for their use, while Aset "Mother of God" was being worshipped a couple of doorways further in. 
 
I've put in calls to the diocese, and the parishioners are encouraging me to just go over to their offices and talk to them directly about what can or cannot be done. It's an empty building now, has been for a year and a half, and there doesn't seem to be any good reason to allow a part of Joliet history to disappear without comment. 
 
It's one of those days when I wish I was wealthy in money and not just in spirit. I know we can do good things for the community while we honor our gods. We'd have to have more people move here to help, and it would take a depth of commitment that we've never asked for before, but we made a miracle happen when we bought the first building and the faith was about half the size it is now. 
 
I've got so much on my mind around this. To quote an old film, "if you build it they will come." But I don't know what to do, really. I don't know if this is something my people want, or it's just a dream I have to help the place I live and the people who don't deserve what is happening to them while at the same time helping my own dream for our own faith to grow. We don't have the money to make any outright purchase, and there aren't enough people here in the area yet to help do the things we'd want to do with the property. But would they be interested? Would they come? Would it work? Does the church need to be saved, or is this just my nostalgic history-loving soul bemoaning the fate of progress? I don't know. 
 
Terecita said "I will pray so very hard..." after I told her about what we would do with the place if we could figure out how to acquire it. I'm praying hard. Something good needs to happen next door, whether that's caused by us or somebody else, or whether the property goes to new hands and they manage to figure out a way to do something new with it that doesn't disrespect the ancestors who went before. It doesn't matter that they're Catholic and we aren't. God is God, on a certain level. May God and God's people be served no matter what happens.

Year 17 - The Year of Djehuty

Di Wep Ronpet Nofret (Happy New Year!)

Welcome to Kemetic Orthodox Year 17. We brought in the new year with a really wonderful Retreat here in Joliet. Forty-five members and their families came together to perform the ceremonies and welcome the year of the god Djehuty with great excitement. Thank you to everyone who came and shared the week with us. It was a wonderful time. I'm still catching up on my sleep, but in the meantime I thought I'd share with my readers the oracle of the goddess Aset given in honor of the New Year. Each year, we receive a message from the great Lady pertaining to the god of the year and what sort of year it will be. I think this year's message is quite wonderful.

The Oracle of Aset for Year 17 (given at Aset Luminous, July 2009)

Perfection multiplied has passed, but is not gone.

I say unto you that wisdom is now required, so that you remember and repeat it. Be wise. Speak wisdom. Act wisely. Most of all, DO.

Be as wise in action as in word. The Great Ibis knows well what wisdom you require, for He writes what is in your breath, in your heart, and watches the movements of your ka. Ask Him. Heed Him.

This is a time of Decision, of Choice. Do not be content with thought.

The Year will not Become from a simple idea. To know what is needful serves you well, but thought flies all around and leaves little result in its wake. Do not be content with clever speech. This Year will not Become with simple words. Words can be quickly breathed, but with little wisdom. But words themselves are the actions of your thought.

Think. Speak. Then, Do. Be wise and do.

He Who Writes will show you and teach you. Are you yourself ready to Become wise? Are you Wise enough to know that alone, it is more difficult to Do? You need your family. You need My Son, your Mother. You need all of your brothers and sisters. You are needed by them. Each of you is far wiser than you believe. Each of you requires far more wisdom than you believe. Listen. Speak. Do.

The Great Ibis writes your Year. What will He write? Your anger? Your fear? That you are alone? That you tremble? That you can not? That you helped this one and not that one? These are not the things of the People. These are not the things with which We bless you.

Ask Djehuty for what you need to make this Year Become.

Be Clever. Speak. Do.

Decide.

Choose.

What do you hope and dream for this year? How will you make that Become?

Tell the others. Tell The Great Ibis. Tell Us all. And Do so.

May you be blessed as the people of Netjer.

Di Wep Ronpet Nofret (Happy New Year!) Welcome to Kemetic Orthodox Year 17. We brought in the new year with a really wonderful Retreat here in Joliet. Forty-five members and their families came together to perform the ceremonies and welcome the year of the god Djehuty with great excitement. Thank you to everyone who came and shared the week with us. It was a wonderful time. I'm still catching up on my sleep, but in the meantime I thought I'd share with my readers the oracle of the goddess Aset given in honor of the New Year. Each year, we receive a message from the great Lady pertaining to the god of the year and what sort of year it will be. I think this year's message is quite wonderful. The Oracle of Aset for Year 17 (given at Aset Luminous, July 2009) Perfection multiplied has passed, but is not gone. I say unto you that wisdom is now required, so that you remember and repeat it. Be wise. Speak wisdom. Act wisely. Most of all, DO. Be as wise in action as in word. The Great Ibis knows well what wisdom you require, for He writes what is in your breath, in your heart, and watches the movements of your ka. Ask Him. Heed Him. This is a time of Decision, of Choice. Do not be content with thought. The Year will not Become from a simple idea. To know what is needful serves you well, but thought flies all around and leaves little result in its wake. Do not be content with clever speech. This Year will not Become with simple words. Words can be quickly breathed, but with little wisdom. But words themselves are the actions of your thought. Think. Speak. Then, Do. Be wise and do. He Who Writes will show you and teach you. Are you yourself ready to Become wise? Are you Wise enough to know that alone, it is more difficult to Do? You need your family. You need My Son, your Mother. You need all of your brothers and sisters. You are needed by them. Each of you is far wiser than you believe. Each of you requires far more wisdom than you believe. Listen. Speak. Do. The Great Ibis writes your Year. What will He write? Your anger? Your fear? That you are alone? That you tremble? That you can not? That you helped this one and not that one? These are not the things of the People. These are not the things with which We bless you. Ask Djehuty for what you need to make this Year Become. Be Clever. Speak. Do. Decide. Choose. What do you hope and dream for this year? How will you make that Become? Tell the others. Tell The Great Ibis. Tell Us all. And Do so. May you be blessed as the people of Netjer.

Happy birthday to Heru-wer and new priesthood!

Today was the second of the Five Days Upon the Year, the days dedicated to the birthdays of gods. This one was for Heru-wer, the Greatly-Speckled Hawk Whose Eyes are the Sun and the Moon. As one of my personal gods Heru-wer gets great attention in my household and today was no exception: for His birthday I presented him with a bottle of Glenrothes Scotch that I had been saving for the occasion, and then I went and trained priests for our priesthood at the beginning of our Wep Ronpet retreat.

This morning we witnessed the vows and training of two new W'ab priests, or purity technicians, the priesthood that cares for altars and implements and makes sure that liturgies are ready to be held. A huge congrats to Hatyt'ahethert and Yinepuwaret. I'm proud of both of them and think they're going to do an extraordinary job. (And what a birthday present to yourself, Waret! More work! *grins*)

In the afternoon after we finished with the basic training we completed some advanced training. Nine priests total were recognized as Heri-sesheta, or those who are "over the secrets" of their particular god(s). These priests include Djehutymenekh, Shefytbast, Tuwerherbastmut, Qaitsenu, Kai-Imakhu Meresinepu, Wenemaset, Imakhu Asetmekti, Imakhu Senyt-menu (Senut) and Kai-Imakhu Neferu. I could not be prouder of this crowd. Each made an exemplary presentation to earn their right to bear the secrets proudly in their personal work.

Very, very soon we'll be entering the day of Set and the first open public day of our Wep Ronpet retreat here in Joliet. As is almost prophetically usual on His birthday, it's starting to rain and the storm clouds are coming in from the West. I'll try to check in as soon as I can with more news including the news you've all been waiting for on the God(s) of Year 17.

Love to you all. May you continue to have a good Intercalary season!

Today was the second of the Five Days Upon the Year, the days dedicated to the birthdays of gods. This one was for Heru-wer, the Greatly-Speckled Hawk Whose Eyes are the Sun and the Moon. As one of my personal gods Heru-wer gets great attention in my household and today was no exception: for His birthday I presented him with a bottle of Glenrothes Scotch that I had been saving for the occasion, and then I went and trained priests for our priesthood at the beginning of our Wep Ronpet retreat. This morning we witnessed the vows and training of two new W'ab priests, or purity technicians, the priesthood that cares for altars and implements and makes sure that liturgies are ready to be held. A huge congrats to Hatyt'ahethert and Yinepuwaret. I'm proud of both of them and think they're going to do an extraordinary job. (And what a birthday present to yourself, Waret! More work! *grins*) In the afternoon after we finished with the basic training we completed some advanced training. Nine priests total were recognized as Heri-sesheta, or those who are "over the secrets" of their particular god(s). These priests include Djehutymenekh, Shefytbast, Tuwerherbastmut, Qaitsenu, Kai-Imakhu Meresinepu, Wenemaset, Imakhu Asetmekti, Imakhu Senyt-menu (Senut) and Kai-Imakhu Neferu. I could not be prouder of this crowd. Each made an exemplary presentation to earn their right to bear the secrets proudly in their personal work. Very, very soon we'll be entering the day of Set and the first open public day of our Wep Ronpet retreat here in Joliet. As is almost prophetically usual on His birthday, it's starting to rain and the storm clouds are coming in from the West. I'll try to check in as soon as I can with more news including the news you've all been waiting for on the God(s) of Year 17. Love to you all. May you continue to have a good Intercalary season!

Kemet Today

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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

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Friday, September 11, 2009

This Podcast is the End!

Monday, September 7, 2009

Back to work

A quick response to yesterday's blog!

Monday, August 24, 2009

This week's work and thoughts

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Year 17 - The Year of Djehuty

Friday, August 14, 2009

Happy birthday to Heru-wer and new priesthood!

Monday, August 3, 2009

Kemet Today

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