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I just got an invitation to write for an anthology with the cheeky, if self-contradicting, title of Goodbye Jesus, I'm Going Home to Mother. (Self-contradicting because, if you're really at home with her, why bother addressing yourself to him?) It is to be, I gather, a book of tales: “faith journeys” from Jesus to the Goddess.

(“Faith journey” is the polite name for “I've changed my mind.”)

Inveterate storyteller though I am, I don't (on my own recognizance) really have much of a tale to tell on that account. For me—Christian only by virtue of infant baptism—the story is one not so much of flight from as of journey to. I fell in love, and that was that. As for so many with whom I speak, my own coming to the Old Ways is a tale more of homecoming than departure.

In those days, mind you, if you wanted the Lady, you had to quest for her. Thinking back, I'm reminded of Robert Graves' own trailblazing search:

It was a virtue not to stay: to go my headstrong and heroic way,

seeking her out at the volcano's head, among pack ice,

and where the track had faded beyond the cavern of the Seven Sleepers.

Her we sought everywhere, the Living Goddess—history, geography, folklore—and everywhere we found her. How not, since all life is a journey to her? From her we come, in her we live, to her we return. Indeed, there's nowhere else to go.

As for Jesus, I don't have much to say, except that—so far as I can tell—we know, and can know, very little about the historical Jesus of Nazareth, and that therefore all Jesuses—and one really does have to speak in the plural here—are essentially fictional characters. I can see little point in addressing him, not even to say good-bye. Return to sender, addressee deceased.

*An excerpt from, The Goddess Lives, poetry, prose and prayers in her honour, by Agnes Toews-Andrews.

It was spring, and I was in retreat at Mount Shasta, California when I discovered my connection to the goddess Ereshkigal, who had appeared to me in visions many years before. Ereshkigal was also a Niburian/humanoid hybrid who had been given Lower Africa known as the Lower World, as her domain.  She was the sister of Ishtar, (an incarnation of me,) a goddess who lived in Mesopotamia/Babylonia and was well known throughout the ancient empires.

It's the little shadows that linger out of view, the waking me up at 3am, the subtle touches in the middle of the night to let me know that you are there, but invisible.

I know you are contacting me to let me know you are there.  I know you are bringing me information about someone that I do not want to hear.  But you don't tell me.  I see you as you wear a hat, sometimes you even look like Odin and I hear the call of his ravens, sometimes like Jesus, sometimes just a white feathery being, and sometimes as a small dark spot or shadow lurking outside of my field of vision.  But you are always the same.  I don't understand why you take all these shapes, but I know it's you down deep within.

It is told in the Toledot Yeshu that as a young man Yéshu ha-Notzrí (called by the Gentiles, Jesus of Nazareth) studied with the sages in Jerusalem. Here he heard disquieting rumors about his paternity. Knowing that only his mother could tell him the truth of the matter, he conceived a plan and went down to Natseret (Nazareth), to her house.

“Greetings, my son,” said his mother, “How fares it with thee?”

“Alas, my mother,” he said to her, “I am grievously ill.”

“Alas, my son,” said she, “Would that I could cure thee of thy illness.”

“Indeed, thou mayest do just that,” said Yeshu. “It is known to the sages of Jerusalem that if a woman should place the nipple of her breast between the doorpost and the door, and a man shall drink from it, he shall be thereby cured.”

"How would you like to be interviewed for a book that questions the historical existence of Jesus?" asked Minas, a journalist, editor, and old-time friend of mine. "I'd love it if you would like to point out the similarities between Jesus and Dionysus." It was an offer I couldn't resist. The interview turned out to me more than 5000 words long, opening a host of fascinating topics. It is included in the book Jesus Mythicism: An Introduction, whose English translation recently came out. It is written by Minas Papageorgiou and also includes interviews by well-known scholars, such as Maria Dzielska, Payam Nabarz, and Joseph Atwill.

I'm delighted to share a part of my interview with you, with permission from the book's author.

Part 1

From Aphrodite’s Vulva to the Resurrection

What possible connection could there be between the sacred gardens of Aphrodite and the resurrection of Jesus?