Last month, my high priestess Taz called me and asked how I felt about letting go of the corporate structure of the Conclave of the Craft. To be honest, I was relieved. Enthusiastic, even. For twelve years we’d fought the uphill battle of providing training, education, and clergy services for the Mid-Missouri Pagan community. It was always a struggle and there always seemed to be something getting in the way of resounding success. In retrospect, I think it’s because there was what we wanted to do and what our late crone Susan wanted us to do, and those things didn’t overlap very much. Our work to maintain the Conclave as a legal entity and to try to launch Sacred Circle Seminary as a degree-granting institution to rival other pagan seminaries was an ego project of the highest order, and we persisted because we believed in it and thought that was what we were supposed to do. But with limited funds, very limited help, the pressures of everyday living – working full-time jobs, leading our respective covens, teaching our existing cohort of students, and having a life outside of religion – and the long adjustment to the post-COVID world, the dream that was the Conclave of the Craft was a difficult one to fully manifest into reality.
It was a long struggle for Taz and I both to realize that we, by ourselves, didn’t have the resources available to support the sort of infrastructure that we were trying to build. However, by partnering with other organizations, such as Oak Spirit Sanctuary and the Midwest Pagan Council, we were able to bring the core of our original purpose to fruition. We have collected and digitized a great deal of material from our magickal predecessors and are working to prevent loss of knowledge as these materials are passed to each new generation of Wiccans, and we are working with a more established Pagan church to create a viable clergy training program and a valuable partnership for our community.
There’s a lot of change happening in my world as a result of this shift in priorities. Taz and I both wanted to revise our teaching materials this year to be less college-course and more coven-apprenticeship in nature, so we’ve dedicated time throughout the year to do that. Additionally, we have a returning student to get up to speed in her apprenticeship and prepare her for initiation in our multifaceted Gardnerian-Alexandrian-Pagan-Way-First-Temple-Conclave tradition. This has led to some discussion as to lineage and who to claim as our upline and why, which has sparked a resurgence of my interest in our magickal genealogy and tracking down exactly which facet of our teachings came from whom. I’m sure there will be renewed discussion as to how to properly document our spiritual heritage without appearing disingenuous or claiming something that we’re not really entitled to claim.
And then, of course, there’s a matter of names. The Conclave of the Craft as an entity was launched in 2013, but the core group of people who make up the principal working group, Naofa Tintean, have been covening together for 25 years – first as Dragonstone, then as Wand and Cauldron, then as Luna Espiral, and finally as Naofa Tintean. Each time the coven’s name changed, it was to reflect the change and development of the coven as it existed at that point in time. Dragonstone was led by a different and very hierarchical high priestess while Taz was still an upper-level student herself, and when that high priestess departed, she took the name of the coven with her. The remaining coveners established Wand and Cauldron as a teaching group with the high priest, Uthyr SpiritBear (Steven Galbreath), and chose Taz Storm (Victoria Chance) as the new priestess. When the coven began to adopt a more formalized structure, as it had evolved from a teaching group to a more distinct coven, the coveners decided to change its name to Luna Espiral. Shortly after that change, Alex Gonzalez replaced Uthyr as high priest. Then there was the change of the name of Luna Espiral to Naofa Tintean, which was the result of a strong and definite response to a coup attempt by someone who felt entitled to take over the leadership of the Luna Espiral against the wishes of our High Priestess and the other coveners. Of the thirty coveners at that time, only three left the coven.
In light of this long and dramatic history, the Conclave of the Craft was, in part, our attempt to stabilize ourselves against such a thing happening again by bringing together all of our hived covens under one organization to streamline and standardize our teaching materials to prevent loss of knowledge as it passed through our downline and to build a collaborative culture where we could continue the growth of the tradition in healthy ways. But we had forgotten one thing in our quest for stability and uniformity: the revolution will not have 501(c)(3) status. In light of the incoming political administration and the general change of culture in the Midwest, we decided that letting the Conclave cease operations as a legal entity was in the best interest of everyone involved. Both the Board of Directors and our membership agreed that our resources – our time, energy, and money – were best put to use by partnering with other organizations and preserving our tradition in a private manner.
For twelve years, the Conclave existed. I’d like to think we did good work in all that time, even if we did bite off more than we could chew once or twice. And I am satisfied to know that we’re still doing good work – that hasn’t changed. We’re just doing good work as private citizens affiliated with the same tradition and not as representatives of a legally recognized Traditional Initiatory Wiccan church.
As we continue to transition back to the old-school way of covening, I’ll be working with Naofa Tintean as its Handmaiden in advent of a time when I either succeed Taz in her office of High Priestess or properly hive a coven of my own. I’ll be nurturing relationships with people and helping to grow organizations. I’ll be teaching and writing. And I’ll be hoping for the best and preparing for the worst as the winds of change sweep through the United States.
I feel that my usual closing is especially important at this time: May the Gods preserve the Craft … and all those who practice it.