Invention of the Lance

Introit

The Altar is dressed as for Gnostic Mass, however, the Paten of Cakes is set thereon, rather than the Grail.

The PRIESTESS enters, bearing the Grail (covered), with two ATTENDANTS, one in black and one in red. (Music, voluntary) They pause at the altar, where she sets the Grail and kneels briefly in adoration. After this, she says:

Ah me! but the thirst of Thy joy parches up this throat so that I cannot sing. I will make me a little boat of my tongue, and explore the unknown rivers. It may be that the everlasting salt may turn to sweetness, and that my life may be no longer athirst.

She turns, and says to her ATTENDANTS,

I too am the Soul of the desert; thou shalt seek me yet again in the wilderness of sand.

They depart the temple (she remains). There is a brief interlude (music: Palestinalied) during which the Priestess recites:

Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart's heat,
Reflecting in a watery mirror
A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon.
And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier,
Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.
Where is the summer, the unimaginable
Zero summer?

When she is finished, the ATTENDANTS return in the company of the PRIEST (dressed in a white robe, bearing the Lance). He chants, as follows (the congregation joins a piacere):

O Thou Dragon-prince of the air, that art drunk on the blood of the sunsets!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou Unicorn of the storm, that art crested above the purple air!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou burning sword of passion, that art tempered on the anvil of flesh!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou bright star of the morning, that art set betwixt the breasts of night!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou scented grove of wild vines, that art trampled by the white feet of love!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou dazzling star-point of hope, that burnest over oceans of despair!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou smiling mouth of the dawn, that art freed from the laughter of the night!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

Here he pauses, raises the Lance and chants (to the second phrase of music):

This is the Savior of the World!

To which all respond:

I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

He continues in procession 2/3 of the way through the space, chanting:

O Thou fleeting beam of delight, that lurkest within the spear-thrusts of dawn!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou golden wine of the sun, that art poured over the dark breasts of night!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou white hand of Creation, that holdest up the dying head of Death!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou mighty oak of magic, that art rooted in the mountain of life!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou red rose of the Morning, that glowest in the bosom of the Night!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou crimson spear-point of life, that art thrust through the dark bowels of Time!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou sweet perfume of desire, that art wafted through the valleys of love!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

As before, he pauses here, raises the Lance and chants:

This is the Savior of the World!

And all respond:

I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

He continues the rest of the way to the altar, chanting:

O Thou sparkling wine-cup of light, whose foaming is the heart's blood of the stars!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou unfailing cruse of joy, that art filled with the tears of the fallen!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou wounded son of the West, that gushest out Thy blood on the heavens!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou wondrous chalice of light, uplifted by the Maenads of Dawn!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou crimson vintage of Life, that art poured into the jar of the Grave!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou Holy Sphinx of rebirth, that crouchest in the black desert of death!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

O Thou wild vision of Beauty, but half seen betwixt the cusps of the moon!
I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

One last time, he raises the Lance and chants:

This is the Savior of the World!

And all respond:

I adore Thee, Evoe! I adore Thee, IAO!

Consecration

At this point, the PRIEST declares:

The holy Spear I bring back to you today!

Whereon he hands the Lance over to the PRIESTESS and recites (as the ATTENDANTS suit the deed to the word, vesting him in a red and gold over-robe and a wreath of red roses for his brow):

I felt the red lips of nature and the black lips of perfection. Like sisters they fondled me their little brother; they decked me out as a bride; they mounted me for Thy bridal chamber.

The PRIESTESS responds:

Before I saw Thee thou wast already with me; I was smitten through by Thy marvellous spear.

He declares:

I was stricken as a bird by the bolt of the thunderer; I was pierced as the thief by the Lord of the Garden.

And she responds:

O my Lord, let us sail upon the sea of blood!

Adoration of the Lance

The PRIEST says:

I have thrown a million flowers from the basket of the Beyond at Thy feet, I have anointed Thee and Thy Staff with oil and blood and kisses.

This he does in deed, with oil of Abramelin (held in a vial by the ATTENDANT in black) and wine (held in a cruse by the ATTENDANT in red); he kisses the shaft of the Lance three times, then takes it back from the PRIESTESS, turns around, and holds the Lance upright while all in the congregation follow suit, anointing and kissing the Lance.

When this part is done, the Priestess says,

O come to me, mix the fire and the water; all shall dissolve.

(Music: Parsifal, Act 3) The PRIEST recites:

O mighty miracle of bliss!
This that through me thy wound restoreth,
With holy blood behold it poureth,
Which yearns to join the fountain glowing
Whose pure tide in the Grail is flowing!
Hid be no more that shape divine;
Uncover the Grail! Open the Shrine!

She uncovers the Chalice; together, the PRIEST and PRIESTESS depress the Lance point into the Cup. The PRIEST declares:

Then only was the ancient curse lifted, and the Wounded Land was healed.

Communion

The PRIESTESS recites:

They shaped Ecstasy as a spear, and pierced the ancient dragon that sat upon the stagnant water. Then the fresh springs were unloosed, that the folk athirst might be at ease.

The PRIEST responds,

O meal and honey and oil! O beautiful flag of the moon, that she hangs out in the centre of bliss! These loosen the swathings of the corpse; these unbind the feet of Osiris, so that the flaming God may rage through the firmament with his fantastic spear.

TOGETHER, they proclaim,

The Spirit and the bride say, Come.
And let him that heareth say, Come.
And let him that is athirst come.
And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely.

(O Miracle of Miracles, the Redeemer redeemed!)

At this point, there is a Communion. When all have partaken of Cakes and Wine, the PRIESTESS crowns the Lance with the ribbons while the PRIEST recites,

Yet the music of my spears shall be a song of freedom. A great bird shall sweep from the Abyss of Joy, and bear ye away to be my cup-bearers.

Maypole dance (Music: DCD, Saltarello)! Festivity! Etc!

Benediction

The ritual ends with the PRIESTESS reciting as follows:

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always --
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

And finally the PRIEST blesses all present:

The LORD bless you.

The LORD enlighten your minds and comfort your hearts and sustain your bodies.

The LORD bring you to the accomplishment of your true Wills, the Great Work, the Summum Bonum, True Wisdom and Perfect Happiness.

All retire in procession from the Temple.