The Shrine of Babalon


20th Century Thelema




Painting "Thee Temple Ov Babalon II by Linda Falario used with permission

"Now know that I, BABALON, would take flesh and come among men.
I will come as a perilous flame, as a devious song, a trumpeter in judgement halls,a banner before armies."

from Liber 49 in The Book of Babalon, Jack Parsons

I am not a Thelemite, that is, I do not specifically follow the path of Thelema, but I have worked comfortably with friends and comrades who are, and I have been attracted to aspects of Thelema over recent times. Perhaps one day I will walk this path more diligently but for now it is not to be. One of the things that has attracted me to Thelema is the entity of BABALON. All of my experience of Her has been entirely personal - I have no formalised Thelemic teachings on which to base my experience nor my attraction to the entity or essence of BABALON. I know Her only from reading of Her as much as I can and feeling Her as a part of the essence of me. In many ways I feel she is a modern Lilith.

Here I have tried to synthesise a few of the things that women have written about BABALON: things that have resonated with me as I contemplate the meaning of Her in my life: BABALON, the Divine Whore, the Warrior, the free and unfettered woman who reigns over chaos, love, passion, pleasure and danger.

On the occasions where I have called BABALON to me, I have felt the yielding of myself to a force which is a part of me but which I cannot quite grasp. It is allowing myself the freedom to be exactly who I am without fear of disapproval. BABALON reinforces the strength that I sometimes forget I have. She enhances the Woman-Essence that is me. She helps me experience some of the more hidden and shadowy parts of myself - my creativity, my sexuality, my anger but also my joy, love and celebration of living on the Earth.

Linda Falario (whose wonderful painting appears at the top of this Shrine) describes the experience of BABALON like this:

My house is filled with the bones of dead prophets. Their voices trail off into the shadows of the night, fore they spoke falsely of me, they knew not my name.

You can worship me in the glades of deep forests, around fires, hair bedecked with flowers, in coloured robes or naked, coupled or apart, exceeding in thy joy unto me. Or thou can come to me in silence, alone, as you will.

The ancient ones knew me and worshipped me. I am the ground on which you walk and the great sea, and the night sky studded with stars. They knew me as Isis, Nuit, Hathor and Sekhet and Cybele, Hecate, Lilith and more. I am black, black studded with gold. I'm purple, and green as grass.

My mansion has many rooms and some are treble locked. In these rooms are many wonders and secret joys. In them you may abide if you have the key. My halls are draped in various colours pleasing to me. I have 30 robes in my cloakroom. The first is yours, the second mine. The rest conceal each other. They are of various colours and majesty. They exist together and are worn apart.

For I am the cup and the true holy grail. I cleanse iniquity with my sacred waters. I am an ocean of comfort and joy. My cup is always full. Drink of it and thou shall be purified and renewed.

Those who know me can never forget and are changed forever.

From "Babalon Speaks" and "The Book of the Holy Lady of the 3-Fold Name" channelled by D. Koons

INVOCATION OF BABALON
Holy Mother, Great and Terrible

"When thy dust shall strew the earth whereon She walketh, then mayest thou bear the impress of Her foot. And thou thinkest to behold Her face!"

How can that which is buried in the pyramids behold that which descendeth upon its apex?

Despair! Despair! For thou mayest deceive the Virgin, and thou mayest cajole the Mother; but what wilt thou say unto the ancient Whore that is throned in Eternity? For if she will not, there is neither force nor cunning, nor any wit, that may prevail upon her. Thou canst not woo her with love, for she is love, and she hath all, and hath no need of thee. And thou canst not woo her with gold, for all the kings and captains of the earth, and all the gods of heaven, have showered their gold upon her. Thus hath she all, and hath no need of thee. And thou canst not woo her with knowledge, for knowledge is the thing that she hath spurned. She hath it all, and hath no need of thee. And thou canst not woo her with wit, for her Lord is Wit. She hath it all, and hath no need of thee. Despair, despair! Nor canst thou cling to her knees and ask for pity; nor canst thou cling to her heart and ask for love, nor canst thou put thine arms abut her neck, and ask for understanding; for thou hast had all these, and they avail thee not! Nor canst thou win her with the Sword, nor canst thou win her by the Serpent, for it was the Serpent that seduced her first! Despair, despair!

O thou who art the great sea and the way between the waters, gate of all life, hear me, for I attain to thee, as I behold the Image of Love in thy Face.

Thou art She who hast created all in thine image, for are not all souls female before the Lord? Therefore is Motherhood the symbol of the Masters! Thou who hast torn open thy breast to nourish thy children, and received thy children’s blood in the Great Return; great Queen of cycles, womb and tomb of all life, which emanates from thee. Thou art a great queen indeed, awesome in thy countenance, known and unknown, the bed of a harlot, and the dwelling of them that are fallen!
Yea, before thee all the most holy is profane, O thou desolator of shrines! You are She that rideth forth on the back of the Beast, of seven heads and ten horns. I see thee dressed in purple and scarlet, decked with gold and pearls and rich jewels, carrying aloft thy golden cup in which reside all the abominations of the earth...there shall be no more red roses, for you hath crushed the blood of all things into your Cup!

Thou who art entirely beyond my conception so that there is nothing in my mind on to which it can cast a symbol, even as the emptimess of space is not heated by the fire of the Sun. So pure is thy light that it preventeth the formation of images, and therefore have men called you Darkness. Thou art thine own destruction! Open the mysteries of your creation, and make us partakers of the undefiled knowledge!

Thou art the MYSTERY of MYSTERY, seven letters hath thy holy name. Thy name falls down through the heavens and the ages: *
*
*
*
*
*
*
Open the tomb of thy being to we who seek thy knowledge. Appear thou glorious upon the throne of Creation! I behold thee in every living thing, in the coals of the fire, in the light that dances in the eyes of the brethren and the sisters,, in the up and the down and the sideways, the rythym and the rhyme, in all and naught.

With the wine in your cup hath you mixed the lightnings, and you hath carved your bread with a sharp sword. With your folly hath you undone the wisdom of the Magus, even as with your judgements hath you overwhelmed the universe. You hath eaten the pomegranite in the House of Wrath, and you have crushed out the blood of your mother between millstones to make bread. There is nothing you hath not trampled beneath your feet. The is nothing of which you hath not set a garland upon thy brow. All things are wound about thy waist as a girdle. All things are hidden in the Cave of your Heart. You hath slain all things, as you are innocence. You have laid with all things, as you are Untouched Virginity. You have given birth to all things, as you are death! Stainless are your lips, for they are redder than the purple of the vine, and of the blood wherewith You are Intoxicated. Stainless is thy forehead, for it is whiter than the wind and the dew that cooleth it.
You are light, and night, and that which is beyond them! You are speech, and silence, and that which is beyond them! You are life, and death, and that which is beyond them! You are war, and peace, and that which is beyond them! You are weakness and strength and that which is beyond them.

Oh deathless are those who have fed at the breast of the mother of the Universe! Thou art the Original of all Manifestations, the Alpha and the Omega, Thou who art the birthplace of even Us; thou knowest the whole world, yet none know Thee. Thou art both subtle and gross, manifested and veiled, formless, yet with form....who can understand thee? Oh Mother, in hymning thy praise I purify my speech. For it is said:

"What care I for the Father if I but be on the lap of the Mother!" Mater renuit, Mater Recepit! Thus I proclaim you to the world!

This page is Copyright Lilitu Babalon, 1999
I'll give you permission to reproduce anything on my page if you ask, provided it is mine.
However, if I find you plagiarising, well.....