Greek word meaning purpose . It's often been translated in Bible versions as will or wish which I suppose is strictly correct, but it loses some of the force and focus of the word purpose . Thelema was the school of thought put forward by the occultist Aleister Crowley around a hundred years ago. Crowley said that a being named Aiwass contacted him and dictated a text known as The Book of the Law or Liber AL vel Legis . This book outlined the principles of Thelema."
I was intrigued. "So Crowley got it from Sir Francis Dashwood? Or Rabelais?"
Douglass shrugged. "Either or both. Even earlier, you will find several references in the Bible."
This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. "What, you're not saying that there are references to Thelema in the Bible?"
Douglas nodded again. "Yes, in the New Testament. Look it up for yourself. You'll need a concordance, because most translations just translate thelema with the English word will . Anyway, looks like a storm is brewing so we'd better head off to Medmenham." He lowered his voice. "Misty, the English are not used to people being so animated in a tea room. I suggest you keep your hand gestures to a minimum in such environments."
It took us no time at all reach Medmenham. That was just as well, as I was furious with Douglas for that comment and furious with myself for not being quick-witted enough to come up with a witty, cutting response.
We turned into the tree-lined Ferry Lane, and Douglas drove the short distance down to the Thames. "As you would have figured by the name, this is where the ferry used to go, but now it's a public slipway for any boats."
I was taken by the English road sign. In Australia, international tourists are often amused by road signs showing profiles of kangaroos or wombats, or even "Koala Crossing" signs, and I in turn was amused by the English road sign at the end of Ferry Lane. It showed a car falling off a road into water. I took a photo for my article.
We walked back up the lane and came to a set of ornate and high iron gates. I peered through but couldn't see the Abbey.
"We have to drive right back around to see the Abbey; you can only see it from the other side of the Thames these days, or of course from a boat," Douglas said. "The Abbey was in ruins for years but now it's been made into luxury residences, and as you can see, it's a gated community. In the thirteenth century it was the home of the Cistercian monks. They were vegans who dressed in sacks, and had taken the oath of silence. They spent all day praying and working."
I couldn't think of any worse possible lifestyle. Just the thought of dressing in sacks and not speaking filled me with horror. I peered through the gates for some time hoping to glimpse a view of the Abbey, until Douglas ushered me back to his car. We drove around the other side of the Thames, and drove up and down, but the road was too far from the river. I spotted a towpath and pointed it out to Douglas.
"No, Misty, it looks like rain; let's go back." Douglas sounded terse.
I gave up trying to convince him and agreed that we would drive back to Ferry Lane. We drove to the end of the lane and I hopped out, and then walked into the undergrowth off to the right. I figured we should be able to see the Abbey from the slipway. I could make it out, although my view was not as good as it would have been had we been in a boat or on the towpath. The remains of the Abbey could be seen on the far right, and the rest looked to me to be a new addition of luxury accommodation.
I leaned out into the Thames while Douglas spurted out facts. "When Sir Francis took over the Abbey, there wasn't much left of it - just a few broken statues, and a few columns and some walls. In the late 1500s, the then owners added a large brick building and used stone taken out of the ruins. Sir Francis did renovations. He'd already brought over an Italian painter, so used him to paint magnificent frescoes on the ceilings."
I
I was intrigued. "So Crowley got it from Sir Francis Dashwood? Or Rabelais?"
Douglass shrugged. "Either or both. Even earlier, you will find several references in the Bible."
This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. "What, you're not saying that there are references to Thelema in the Bible?"
Douglas nodded again. "Yes, in the New Testament. Look it up for yourself. You'll need a concordance, because most translations just translate thelema with the English word will . Anyway, looks like a storm is brewing so we'd better head off to Medmenham." He lowered his voice. "Misty, the English are not used to people being so animated in a tea room. I suggest you keep your hand gestures to a minimum in such environments."
It took us no time at all reach Medmenham. That was just as well, as I was furious with Douglas for that comment and furious with myself for not being quick-witted enough to come up with a witty, cutting response.
We turned into the tree-lined Ferry Lane, and Douglas drove the short distance down to the Thames. "As you would have figured by the name, this is where the ferry used to go, but now it's a public slipway for any boats."
I was taken by the English road sign. In Australia, international tourists are often amused by road signs showing profiles of kangaroos or wombats, or even "Koala Crossing" signs, and I in turn was amused by the English road sign at the end of Ferry Lane. It showed a car falling off a road into water. I took a photo for my article.
We walked back up the lane and came to a set of ornate and high iron gates. I peered through but couldn't see the Abbey.
"We have to drive right back around to see the Abbey; you can only see it from the other side of the Thames these days, or of course from a boat," Douglas said. "The Abbey was in ruins for years but now it's been made into luxury residences, and as you can see, it's a gated community. In the thirteenth century it was the home of the Cistercian monks. They were vegans who dressed in sacks, and had taken the oath of silence. They spent all day praying and working."
I couldn't think of any worse possible lifestyle. Just the thought of dressing in sacks and not speaking filled me with horror. I peered through the gates for some time hoping to glimpse a view of the Abbey, until Douglas ushered me back to his car. We drove around the other side of the Thames, and drove up and down, but the road was too far from the river. I spotted a towpath and pointed it out to Douglas.
"No, Misty, it looks like rain; let's go back." Douglas sounded terse.
I gave up trying to convince him and agreed that we would drive back to Ferry Lane. We drove to the end of the lane and I hopped out, and then walked into the undergrowth off to the right. I figured we should be able to see the Abbey from the slipway. I could make it out, although my view was not as good as it would have been had we been in a boat or on the towpath. The remains of the Abbey could be seen on the far right, and the rest looked to me to be a new addition of luxury accommodation.
I leaned out into the Thames while Douglas spurted out facts. "When Sir Francis took over the Abbey, there wasn't much left of it - just a few broken statues, and a few columns and some walls. In the late 1500s, the then owners added a large brick building and used stone taken out of the ruins. Sir Francis did renovations. He'd already brought over an Italian painter, so used him to paint magnificent frescoes on the ceilings."
I
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