Against Sorcery, For Re-enchantment, Part I: Defining Terms

A Convert’s Response to the Anti-Magical Turn

a. Some Background

I am not a professional theologian, or a voice of any importance on any major platforms. I am a religion teacher at a rural Catholic school, of no importance to anyone but my students and family.
However, I believe I may offer a different perspective on a debate raging across this platform, concerning the “smuggling” of occult philosophy into the traditional Catholic discourse.
I am a convert to the Church from various strains of occultism. I studied at one of the most well-known Religion departments specializing in this field: Rice University, internationally famous (in its stuffy, academic way) for its Gnosticism, Esotericism, and Mysticism program (GEM for short). This has given me fluency in the history and terminology of Esoteric and occult practice; but more importantly to this controversy, I was a practicing occultist.

For those who know the waters, I was at first a Wiccan in the Gardnerian tradition. Quickly becoming frustrated with its historical shallowness, I dove into the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and played around with A.E. Waite and Frances Yates. Subsequently, I discovered Seid-Magic, Faerie Magic, and Germanic shamanism and futhark divination. Along the way, I became adept with Tarot and familiar with rune-casting. I spent the summer of 2010 backpacking in the English countryside with Neo-pagans and Wiccans…Druids at Stonehenge on the summer solstice, the Glastonbury Goddess Conference. I came back to Rice to teach a class on Witchcraft, Magick, and Paganism. I conducted rituals on the quad, wrote papers on Rudolf Steiner, and joined the local Freemason Holland Lodge No. 1. But more than anything, I was involved and studied in Indo-European Reconstructionist Paganism. I sacrificed to pagan gods, specifically the Three Graces and the Norns, and prayed for their mercy and guidance. I say all of this not to scandalize or shock, but merely to establish beyond reasonable doubt that I know what draws people to the occult. I have studied it from the ‘inside’ as it were, but also from the ‘outside’, as an academic. I was interested in all its textures, culturally and historically, religious and political. I am still a subscriber to Societas Magica; the academic interest has not faded for me, though the spiritual fascination is long past. I had abandoned the Christianity of my youth specifically because it had seemed to flatten the world, to disenchant it. When, through my studies, I discovered that it was not the Church, but rather the rejection of Christ that had caused this disenchantment, my rancor shifted from “Organized Religion” to the real culprit of this dead materialism: modernity.

I am, since 2013, a faithful and dedicated Catholic. I converted, confessing all of this occult past to my priest. I have since experienced firsthand the deep delight in the Lord’s Church. I now have the blessing of working for my parish, taking students on pilgrimages, teaching the faith. I converted firstly because I was deeply read in medieval literature (the only real source we have for information about paganism and occultism is from monks). The history and arguments of Paul, Eusebius, Constantine, Boethius, Augustine of Hippo, Gregory, Augustine of Canterbury, Boniface, Cyril and Methodius, Gregory of Tours, Hildegard of Bingen, Thomas Aquinas, and many others pointed to the same thing. The longing that had been placed on my childhood heart–the longing for magic, the longing for enchantment (communicated to me by those most excellent Christian philosophers, Tolkien and Lewis)--was not rejected by Christianity, but instead was fulfilled in Christ. 

---

The longing that had been placed on my childhood heart–the longing for magic, the longing for enchantment--was not rejected by Christianity, but instead was fulfilled in Christ.

---

For the first time in my life, I was not merely longing for magic, but falling in love with Jesus. It was this turn that changed my life. Magic was my yearning, but Christ the Answer. But–it was magic that led me to answer His knock.

In Him, His Church, and the Sacraments, I see not the rejection of the enchanted world that had drawn me out of modernist stupor, but its transfiguration. Magic was no longer a “spiritual lust” as described aptly by C.S. Lewis, no longer merely grasping at the divine. Instead I found myself bowing low before the mystery of the Incarnation, and watching with trembling joy as it transformed every corner of my life and perception. Enchantment was not destroyed; it was fulfilled.

Ego Sum Papa… This Protestant caricature of all sacrament and priestcraft as magic has had deep cultural effects, and there is certainly an element of this moral panic in the recent controversy.

Paul had converted the Mithras-worshipping soldiers and the philosophical initiates. Augustine of Hippo left the Manicheans in the dust for the greater Love. Hildegard heard the voice of angels and the groaning of the earth and praised the Lord. These were people who lived in a spiritually populated universe, made of correspondences and symbols, magic and symbol and sacrament, and they found its highest expression to be Christ.

I begin here because this is the vantage point from which I speak to the current polemic: not as an innovator or spiritual entrepreneur, but as someone who knows what is truly at stake—souls looking for light in a haunted world. I was that soul, and after intense and desperate searching I found my identity in Christ and Christ alone.

b. The Terms must Be Clarified:

Some readers may already feel discomfort, perhaps even alarm. But I believe this stems not from true disagreement, but confusion over terminology. The critics of what they describe as ‘occult’ sympathies (really just classical Neoplatonic Realism) within contemporary “trad” Catholicism are conflating distinct traditions and terms—Hermeticism, theurgy, natural magic, Gnosticism, symbolism, etc.—without academic, historical, or theological nuance. This only increases confusion. Worse, it leads to a kind of moral panic wherein any language of cosmic participation, hierarchy, correspondence, or symbolic efficacy is flattened into the word “magic,” and then condemned wholesale, regardless of how those words and concepts were employed by the Fathers, the Doctors of the Church, or even Christ Himself in His teaching and signs.

---

If we are to speak fruitfully about the dangers—or the correct uses—of “magical” language or Neoplatonic cosmology within Catholic thought, we must first precisely define our terms.

---

If we are to speak fruitfully about the dangers—or the correct uses—of “magical” language or Neoplatonic cosmology within Catholic thought, we must first precisely define our terms. So let me attempt to clarify a few of the main terms as I will be using them in this essay. I do so not as a dogmatic authority but as someone who has been immersed in both the historical and spiritual contexts of these ideas.

I’ve chosen to retain and define these particular terms here, as they frequently appear in these debates and in the writings of those accused of “occult sympathies.” In full disclosure, I employed ChatGPT to organize and cite these definitions. I have cross-checked the citations for accuracy and context. If interest is expressed, I may develop a separate, more thorough post dedicated solely to defining every term in the debate.

---

I. What the Church Clearly Condemns

1. Sorcery–I define this simply, in order to avoid confusions with “magic.” Sorcery is the deliberate attempt to harness spiritual forces (whether demonic, elemental, or undefined) for personal power or control, often through spells, rituals, pacts, or charms. Scripture is unambiguous: “You shall not permit a sorceress to live” (Ex 22:18); “sorcerers... will not inherit the kingdom of God” (Rev 21:8). St. Thomas Aquinas treats sorcery under the broader category of superstition and divination (ST II-II, Q. 95), emphasizing its sinful nature as a counterfeit of divine power and a violation of proper worship. In other words, the way to distinguish Sorcery from Sacrament is remarkably simple: If you seek to manipulate symbols to compel spiritual powers to do you your will, it is sorcery. If you seek to manipulate symbols to participate with spiritual powers in the Divine will, it is sacrament.

2. Divination (illicit forms) –Seeking knowledge of demonic knowledge: future events, hidden truths, or divine will, through forbidden means such as necromancy, omens, or oracles. The Catechism (CCC 2116) condemns “recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead, or other practices falsely supposed to ‘unveil’ the future.” While God occasionally grants insight through dreams or lots (cf. Gen 41; Acts 1:26), and always grants knowledge through study of natural symbols, attempts to coerce demonic knowledge is always sinful.

3. Spiritualism / Necromancy / –Attempting to contact the souls of the dead through mediums, rituals, or seances. This violates God’s lordship over life and death and risks demonic deception. Deuteronomy 18:11 forbids anyone who “consults the dead.” St. Augustine, in City of God (Book X, ch. 16), argues that demons often impersonate the dead to seduce the living.

4. Gnosticism –An umbrella term for ancient heresies that rejected the goodness of matter, posited that an evil demiurge created the material world, and claimed that salvation came only through esoteric knowledge (gnosis). Gnostic groups denied the true humanity of Christ and the value of sacraments. St. Irenaeus’ Against Heresies, especially Book I, exposes Gnostic systems as incoherent and spiritually dangerous. However, it is important to distinguish between a concept (gnosis, which describes a sudden knowing of a divine secret, not necessarily by coercion), and a movement (Gnosticism).

5. Superstition –Attributing divine or preternatural power to objects, gestures, or words apart from proper faith. This includes ritualism devoid of intention and belief in “lucky charms.” The Catechism (CCC 2111) warns that “superstition... is the deviation of religious feeling... it can even affect the worship we offer the true God.” St. Thomas distinguishes this from legitimate piety, which always orients the soul toward God (cf. ST II-II, Q. 92–96). There are rarely careful definitions of what exactly constitutes superstition, since it depends on personal disposition. 

6. Occultism (as a worldview) –The modern, post-Christian attempt to construct a self-sufficient spiritual system—usually through esoteric (secret) orders, magical initiation, or syncretistic mysticism—that bypasses the revelation of Christ and the authority of the Church. It is not merely hidden knowledge but hidden autonomy: the will to secret personal power. Pius XII warned of this danger in Humani Generis (1950), speaking against the return of “ancient errors clothed in new garments,” especially those that appeal to “arcane forces” or esoteric hierarchies. It is clearly dangerous and remains the reason Catholicism condemns Freemasonry and secret societies.

7. New Age Syncretism –The blending of incompatible religious systems (e.g., chakras with the Rosary, or Zen with Christian meditation), often reducing Christ to a “spiritual master” or “energy” within a spiritual buffet. The Vatican document Jesus Christ, the Bearer of the Water of Life (2003) critiques New Age practices for displacing the Gospel with “a form of spiritual narcissism” and for confusing salvation with psychological wellness or “cosmic balance”.

---

II. What Is Often Misunderstood or Misapplied

These terms are often weaponized imprecisely in polemics. Some have checkered histories or pagan origins, but many have also been engaged, redefined, or purified in Christian thought. Careful distinction is essential.

1. Magic (Natural Magic) –Distinct from sorcery, natural magic refers to the use of natural properties—herbs, stones, colors, music, planetary influences—as understood to operate within the symbolic order of creation. It was never condemned wholesale by the Church, provided it did not invoke spirits or deny providence. St. Albert the Great, for instance, engaged with forms of natural magic as part of early science and symbolic theology. The key difference: natural magic observes creation’s patterns; it does not manipulate spirits or bind them. This kind of awareness and employment of natural correspondence is what might be referred to as a magical or enchanted worldview. And this was the worldview of nearly every saint up until very recently. See: Augustine’s De Trinitate III.9-10 and Aquinas ST II-II Q. 96 A.2, which distinguishes lawful from illicit use of created powers.

2. Theurgy –From the Greek theourgia (“divine work”), theurgy originally described Neoplatonic rites intended to elevate the soul toward union with the divine. While problematic outside Christian revelation, early Christian thinkers adapted the term. Pseudo-Dionysius, widely influential in both East and West, used theurgy to describe the sacraments as visible signs that mediate divine grace (cf. Ecclesiastical Hierarchy I.3). Theurgy becomes suspect only when viewed as autonomous ascent without Christ—but as used in Catholic mystical theology, it affirms grace operating through symbolic and liturgical action.

3. Hermeticism –A term applied to texts attributed to Hermes Trismegistus (likely written in 1st–3rd c. Alexandria), combining Egyptian religion, Stoicism, and Platonism. While some texts tend toward Gnostic elitism, others—especially the Corpus Hermeticum—are explicitly monotheistic and emphasize divine intellect, the Logos, and human dignity. Christian thinkers like Ficino and Cusa found affinities here and sought to baptize Hermetic insights into symbolic cosmology. Caution is warranted, but Hermeticism is not the same as modern occultism. The Church Fathers distinguished sharply between classical philosophy that could be used in ministerio veritatis and that which must be rejected (cf.Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana II.18).

4. Astrology (Classical) –The belief that celestial bodies reflect divine order and exert limited natural influence. Classical Christian astrologers like Isidore of Seville, Bede, and even Dante accepted a version of this, provided it did not imply determinism or override human freedom and God’s providence. The Fifth Lateran Council (1512–17) condemned astrological fatalism but did not reject all investigation into celestial signs. Aquinas (ST I.115) allows for the stars to influence the body—but not the soul. Scripture speaks of the heavens as proclaiming God's glory (Ps 19:1), not our fates. Hundreds of other citations could be provided. 

5. Alchemy –Not merely primitive chemistry, but often a symbolic or spiritual reflection on transformation, matter, and divine order. Christian alchemists like Basil Valentine or pseudo-Lull used alchemical language to explore sacramental or mystical truths. Many Fathers used similar symbolic metaphors: Gregory of Nyssa speaks of divine transformation; St. Paul himself describes the Christian as undergoing “metamorphosis” (Rom 12:2, 2 Cor 3:18).Alchemy becomes dangerous only when divorced from theology and pursued as secret power. Otherwise, it offers a meditation on nature’s capacity for elevation through grace. It was most deeply embraced, notably, by Protestants–Sir Isaac Newton for instance.

6. Mysticism –A contested term today. Properly understood, Christian mysticism refers to experiential knowledge of God given through grace, especially through prayer, contemplation, and sacramental life. It is grounded in the Incarnation and the Cross, not vague spiritual sensation. True mysticism is always ecclesial and Christocentric (e.g., St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila). Pope Benedict XVI frequently reminded the Church of the importance of mystical theology. When mysticism is detached from doctrine or becomes purely subjective, it risks becoming pseudo-mystical or even New Age. This type of mysticism “begins with mist, is centered on I, and ends in schism.”

7. Symbolism –In Christianity, a symbol is not arbitrary. It participates in what it signifies (cf. the Greek symballein, “to throw together”, as opposed to diaballein, or diabolical, to throw apart). The Fathers and medieval theologians—especially St. Maximus the Confessor and Hugh of St. Victor—saw all of creation as symbolic. A lamb, for instance, signifies Christ because it truly participates in divine attributes through nature and typology. To call this “occult” is to reject the sacramental imagination. As St. Bonaventure taught, the world is a book written by God—symbols included.

8. Ritualism–Often attacked in modernity as empty form, yet the Church teaches that ritual is the very vessel of grace. The Mass is the supreme example—not performance, but participation in Christ’s once-for-all offering. Even in daily life, Christian blessings, gestures, and sacramentals reflect a worldview where outward actions are inwardly efficacious. As Pope Pius XII wrote in Mediator Dei (1947), ritual is not dead repetition, but “the expression of the living faith of the Church.” Attachment to ritual for ritual’s sake is superstition, and is called “ritualism”.

9. Sacred Geometry (Christian-Pythagorean strand) –The belief that numbers, proportions, and geometric forms reflect metaphysical truths. Though Pythagorean in origin, this insight was widely adopted by the Church. St. Augustine, in De Musica, sees numerical harmony as a reflection of divine reason. Medieval cathedrals encode geometry and proportion to manifest heavenly realities.Numerology becomes problematic when used to foretell events or control fate—but not when it is used to reflect divine order and beauty. 

10. Divination (Disputed Forms) –While condemned in many forms, some methods of discernment—like casting lots (Acts 1:26), interpreting dreams (Gen 41), or seeking omens (Gideon’s fleece, Judges 6)—are used in Scripture. The Church today discourages such practices, emphasizing the Holy Spirit’s guidance through Scripture, tradition, and reason. Augustine notes in Confessions that lots can be lawful if sought humbly and without superstition. Discernment here requires maturity and ecclesial judgment, but we seek future knowledge through natural means constantly–and mostly without reflection.

    ---

III. What Catholicism Affirms and Transfigures

These are not merely tolerated within the Faith—they are essential to the Catholic worldview. Any properly ordered metaphysics or cosmology that engages with symbol, liturgy, hierarchy, and enchantment must be rooted in these affirmed truths. 

1. Sacramentality –The material world is not neutral; it is the medium of God’s action. Sacraments are the clearest expression of this: physical signs that affect what they signify, uniting heaven and earth. As St. Leo the Great wrote, “What was visible in our Savior has passed over into His mysteries” (Sermon 74). All creation participates in this sacramental logic—not just the seven sacraments. This is the foundation of a genuinely “magical” worldview—not in the pejorative sense, but in the sense of meaningful, participatory, symbolic causality.

2. Divine Participation (union with Christ, theosis, sanctification, co-creation, subcreation…the list could go on) –All created being exists by analogy and participation in the one source of Being, God Himself. This is the metaphysical key to Realism: things are not simply “themselves,” but reflect and depend upon the divine. As Aquinas teaches: “Everything which exists, exists to the extent that it participates in being” (ST I.4.3). This principle, drawn from Plato and deepened by the Fathers (especially Augustine and Dionysius), grounds all Christian symbolism and cosmology. Without Divine participation, sacraments are meaningless, liturgy is mere theater, and being is flattened.

3. Hierarchy of Being –The universe is ordered from God down to the smallest particle—not chaotically, but in beauty and meaning. This is not oppression, but harmony: each level has its role in the divine symphony. The Great Chain of Being (enshrined in Dionysius and the medieval synthesis) places God at the summit, followed by angels, humanity, animals, plants, and minerals—each reflecting divine glory in a unique way. This hierarchical vision supports the Church’s liturgy, angelology, and sacramental realism. Flattening this order leads directly to secular disenchantment.

4. Angelic Order –Angels are not metaphors. They are real beings, higher than us by nature, and entrusted with cosmic roles. Scripture and Tradition speak of choirs of angels, guardian angels, and archangels as agents of divine order. St. Gregory the Great (in Homilies on the Gospels) identifies nine angelic choirs, drawing on Pseudo-Dionysius. Belief in angels supports an enchanted, populated cosmos. Their presence affirms that we are never spiritually alone, and that the liturgy participates in a celestial liturgy.

5. Logos Theology –All things were made through the Logos (John 1:3). Christ is not just the redeemer of fallen man but the ordering principle–the logic–of the entire cosmos. As Maximus the Confessor writes, each creature has a logos—a reason, a pattern—implanted in it by the Logos Himself. The Incarnation is thus not an intrusion into matter, but the revelation of its true depth, and its incorporation into the Divine. Logos theology connects Christology to cosmology. It makes possible a sacramental reading of the world and roots all created meaning in Christ.

6. Typology –Biblical events and figures–and histories themselves–are not isolated; they echo and foreshadow each other across salvation history. Moses prefigures Christ. The Ark prefigures Mary. Typology assumes that God writes history with poetic and theological precision. As Origen and Augustine teach, to read Scripture rightly is to read typologically. Typology is not Gnostic allegory; it is covenantal realism. It shows that God works through sign and shadow, leading to fulfillment.

7. Christian Cosmology –The world is not a brute material fact. It is created, ordered, intelligible, and good. Genesis 1 affirms this rhythmically: “And God saw that it was good.” This vision was deepened by medieval theology, which saw in creation a harmony of form, number, and purpose. Cosmic order is not to be escaped (as in Gnosticism), but entered and praised. Any Christian critique of “magical thinking” must avoid denying this foundational truth.

8. Liturgical Action –The liturgy is not mere symbol or representation. It is an actual participation in the heavenly liturgy (cf. Heb 12:22). In every Mass, time and eternity meet, and Christ’s sacrifice is made present. As Joseph Ratzinger wrote, “Liturgy is cosmos transformed into praise.” The sacramental rites, vestments, colors, gestures, and calendar are not “magical” in the condemnable sense—but they are mystically charged with grace and order, and are “magical” in the natural sense; that they are fitted to and correspond with everything in the cosmos. 

9. Sacred Time, Space, Actions, and Objects –Christian tradition sanctifies time (liturgical seasons, feast days) and space (churches, altars, relics). This affirms that the material world is capable of being hallowed. Sacred times are not just reminders—they are thresholds. As the Catechism teaches (CCC 1171), the liturgical year unfolds the whole mystery of Christ. Sacred space is not optional ornamentation, but a theological necessity. Sacred actions and objects are not ornamental or incidental but metaphysically important.

10. Wonder and Enchantment, the Imaginative Capacity–Reverence and wonder are not naïve emotions. They are spiritual dispositions essential to Christian life. As Chesterton wrote, “We are perishing for want of wonder, not for want of wonders.” The saints do not live in a dead world—they live in a world ablaze with God’s presence. To banish wonder in fear of sentiment or superstition is to reject a childlike heart—something Christ explicitly commands us not to do (Mt 18:3). The imagination is not a realm of fantasy, but the faculty by which the mind integrates meaning through beauty, symbol, and sense. It is the first threshold of evangelization. Before the intellect ascends to Truth, it must be awakened by the beauty that calls it. To claim that we must know the truth before we can rightly perceive or feel beauty is not only philosophically backwards—it risks falling into a kind of pseudo-Gnosticism, where only the initiated may see rightly. Christianity does not bypass the senses; it transfigures them. 

---

This is the enchanted vision I wish to defend—not as a rival to Catholicism, but as the cosmological scaffolding that Catholicism completes, purifies, and transfigures.

---

I think the above definitions make it clear: when I use the word “magic,” I am not referring to sorcery—as the Scriptures rightly condemn—the manipulation of spiritual forces to serve personal will. Nor do I mean the modern caricature of wand-waving fantasy or theatrical illusions. I refer, rather, to what the medievals called natural magic: the study and reverence of symbolic order woven into the cosmos, where every creature, color, stone, and star speaks the language of its Creator. This is the enchanted vision I wish to defend—not as a rival to Catholicism, but as the cosmological scaffolding that Catholicism completes, purifies, and transfigures.

No one today would call it “divination” to consult a weather app—yet is this not, in a literal sense, reading the signs of the heavens to foresee what is to come? One even consults a black screen, which reminds me of the darkened scrying mirrors of John Dee.

The distinction lies not in whether we read the world, but in how and why. And I suggest it’s time we remember how to read it rightly.

Part II coming soon.