[Editor’s Note: This poem was included in the journal, S/HE: An International Journal of Goddess Studies (Vol 3 No 2, 2024).]
Dr. Joanna Kujawa is a scholar, spiritual travel author, and self-described spiritual detective who serves on the board of S/HE: An International Journal of Goddess Studies. Kujawa’s research centers on the intersection of spirituality and sexuality, the significance of Mary Magdalene, and goddess lineage as it is currently resurfacing in the collective. Trained as a Catholic scholar, Kujawa is widely read in Hindu and Vedic traditions, as well as gnostic texts and goddess archetypes, and she has traveled well the areas she writes about. The book is broken into four sections that lead the reader through: an exploration of the personal conception of eros, an archetypal survey of goddesses from the Mediterranean and East, the mythic and mystic journey of Mary Magdalene in France, and a cosmic consideration of patriarchal perceptions.
Part 1, The Personal Journey: Exploring the Goddesses of Eros, discusses Kujawa’s personal experiences with eros, love, lust, and desire. She situates these four concepts among one another using a framework set out in Eva Pierrakos’ book The Pathwork of Self Transformation. Using personal narratives as well as goddess archetypes such as Aphrodite, Inanna, Radha, Hathor, Circe, and Sundari, Kujawa theorizes that eros is dangerous, powerful, and spiritual. She situates eros on the tantric path to the divine and recognizes it as a “powerful and intelligent force” that moves independently of us and wants us to be aware of it.
Considering sexuality as a powerful means to connect with spirit, Kujawa argues that it can be central to our spiritual evolution, if allowed and given proper respect. In her chapter “Healing the Goddess Gap in Tantra,” Kujawa is particularly strong in her discussion of the fact that the divine feminine used to have a prominent role in ancient folk customs and beliefs given that Shakti was the central deity “to whom all prayers were directed” until the Brahmins arrived, created their caste system, and set Shakti up as the wife of a male deity instead of the universal all-powerful force she had been held to be (pp. 67-68). Kujawa concludes this section with a discussion of the Hindu goddess Sundari as the deepest expression of the union between male and female—and that of the fullest expression of a woman who fully owns her own authentic sensual and spiritual power.
Part 2, titled The Mythic Journey: the Mystery of Mary Magdalene and the Goddesses of Secret Knowledge, is the largest section of the text and leads readers through Kujawa’s search for Mary Magdalene as the carrier of esoteric knowledge, depicted holding an egg. To explore her intuition on this topic, Kujawa researched similar representations of goddesses, beginning with Ninmah, Inanna/Ishtar, and Isis, often represented with variants of the Tree of Life and a serpent. Kujawa posits that these goddesses can represent portals between life and death, or possibly even higher states of consciousness.
Here Kujawa argues that these goddesses might be a recurring archetype from the collective consciousness, or possibly enlightened beings like avatars or angels, or even possibly alien others from “the liminal parts of our consciousness” (p. 87-88). For each of these goddesses, Kujawa investigates links between the depiction of them and of Mary Magdalene, exploring similarities such as how the Gospel of John mirrors depictions of Ishtar and Isis as High Priestesses, by setting Mary Magdalene alone in the tomb (the Holy of Holies) with the resurrected god (Christ). Kujawa cites Michael Hearns’ book The First Pope (NP: JD McKenzie, 2019), where Hearns concludes that the Gospel of John is an encoded story of Mary Magdalene as high priest. Kujawa then surmises that Mary Magdalene was central to Jesus’s life and work, given her prominent role in several Gnostic texts, including the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Philip, the Dialogue of the Savior, the Questions of Mary, the Pistis Sophia, and the Gospel of Mary. (Note this text is not called the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, as many authors state. It is simply called the Gospel of Mary).
Kujawa is likely well aware of this but does not reinforce the point; yet it is important to bear in mind that not all of these texts use the term Magdalene; and Mariam was a very common name at the time, so it is not possible to know if all of these texts are discussing Mary Magdalene, or if they are all even discussing the same Mary. It is of course interesting and convenient and perhaps desirable to approach the gnostic and Nag Hammadi texts as if they were all discussing Mary Magdalene, but this position cannot as of yet be definitive. Perhaps it will become so in future, as more and more texts are discovered and decoded, particularly from the thousands of Oxyrhynchus trash pieces held at Oxford. Similarly, lost and forgotten texts are continually arising from the archives of the Vatican; who knows what might be “discovered” there even tomorrow? I personally like to hope that more such definitive female-affirming texts might finally arise from Mount Athos libraries as well—libraries as old as Christendom itself, and libraries where not even one woman has ever been.
Kujawa concludes that one of the most important takeaways from this section is, to her mind, the clear connection between the gnostic Sophia and the New Testament Mary Magdalene. Kujawa sees both figures as representing wisdom and erotic power, and she finds it highly significant that both women are depicted as having intimate male companions: Sophia with Christ, and Mary Magdalene with Jesus (p. 128). She then explores the assertions of Margaret Starbird who claims that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married and had at least one child; Kujawa doesn’t care whether Mary Magdalene was married to Jesus or whether she was a mother, but she is very interested in the concept of the Magdalene as a favorite or consort of the Christ (p. 129) and especially one who went to Alexandria, which Kujawa states is the center of ‘heretical thought’ at the time (p. 131). I would have appreciated a reference for this intriguing detail especially since the entire section pivots on it. This section is very interesting in that it presents an intriguing discussion on the Therapeutae, male and female mystical philosophers linked to the Essenes and prevalent near Alexandria in the centuries after Christ (p. 133).
Kujawa repeatedly describes her investigation into the life of Mary Magdalene as “detective work” (p. 134), and links together interesting stories and myths and legends, but these are often connected by intuition and surmising, not yet by factual evidence, which Kujawa herself acknowledges. She makes the interesting case that Mary the Prophetess (alchemist) and Mary Magdalene could have been the same person, living in Alexandria in the first century, as both are believed to have been independent women who were likely educated in at least some fashion. The alchemist Zosimus credits Mary the Prophetess as his predecessor, and he lived in Akhmim Egypt, where the codex containing the Gospel of Mary, the Akhmim Codex, was found.
Finally, in this largest of the four sections of the text, Kujawa explores the possible connection between Mary Magdalene and Isis as female alchemists dealing in eternal life, describing how both women are often depicted with a skull, and both are associated with using sexual power to work on the energetic body, or ka, the essence that survives death. Kujawa gives many examples of people healed through deep sexual releases, and she asserts that “we are a powerful channel of cosmic energy that can be awakened in many ways, including through the power of Eros” (p. 177). She describes Mary Magdalene as potentially being a “sexual alchemist” and then discusses numerous gnostic sects associated with sexual practices.
In this section in particular I would have appreciated footnotes and citations (indeed I would have liked to have seen that throughout the text, for follow up reading). Of great interest in this section is Kujawa’s claim that the Wedding at Cana, referred to in the New Testament, was actually symbolic of transforming one state of consciousness into another, which Kujawa asserts is “what the sexual alchemy in Egypt and Hindu Tantra was all about” (p. 185). From this repeated perspective this book could also have been titled Jesus was Hindu: How Christ Practiced Tantra with Egyptian Alchemist Mary Magdalene to Achieve Eternal Life.
Most interestingly, this section ends with Kujawa recounting a dream she had that feels far more like a vision or channeling (p. 189-94). It has echoes of Margaret Starbird, and of Sophie Strand’s The Madonna Secret (Rochester, VT: Bear & Company, 2023), though Strand’s book is not listed in the selected references. This dream is of a post-resurrection Mary Magdalene in Alexandria, stunned and alone, holding so much esoteric knowledge and completely unsure of what to do with it. She is approached by a scribe and scholar who recognizes her from Judea and wants her to chronicle her story. Resolved, calm, and aloof, she agrees.
Part 3 considers the two French traditions associated with the Magdalene: that of the Cathars and the Black Madonnas. Here Kujawa focuses on Starbird’s theories and the conspiracy theories of Mary Magdalene in Provence, France. This section of the book details the legends laid out in the Golden Legend of Mary Magdalene coming to Provence after the crucifixion, and Kujawa cites the academic text by Anna Fedele, Looking for Mary Magdalene: Alternative Pilgrimage and Ritual Creativity at Catholic Shrines in France (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). Fedele finds that most pilgrims to these shrines today are not traditional Catholics but are Starbird fans, looking for alternative views on traditional faith.
Kujawa also notes that while modern devotees of Mary Magdalene might associate her with the Cathars, according to an article by Mary Ann Beavis, “The Cathar Mary Magdalene and the Sacred Feminine: Pop Culture Legend vs. Medieval Doctrine” (Journal of Religion and Popular Culture 24 [2012]: 419-31), there is very little evidence that the Cathars esteemed Mary Magdalene or revered her. Building on Starbird’s work, Kujawa states that the Cathars left the legacy of the Black Madonnas, since the Black Madonnas began to appear in Europe around the 12th century, just after the First Albigensian Crusade when the Cathars were massacred (p. 219). Citing Freddy Silva’s work The First Templar Nation (self-pub, 2019), Kujawa relates the interesting point that many Templars dedicated churches to Our Lady (Notre Dame) on July 22nd, the feast day of Mary Magdalene, thus hiding the Magdalene and her understanding of the resurrection in plain sight.
Part 4, The Cosmic Journey: the Great Cosmic Romance, describes parallels in traditions of goddesses associated with bringing a god back to life, such as Isis and Kali. Here Kujawa explores the sexual energy and erotic potential of Mary Magdalene as a partner exploring eternal life with Jesus. Kujawa references the work of Jean-Yves LeLoup who argues that it is unrealistic to expect Jesus to be fully human but to deny him a sexual nature, while Starbird discusses the de-sexualization of Christ as a patriarchal obsession to remove all aspects of sexuality from Christ (giving him an immaculate conception and no sexual partner) as a way to garner power for men.
Kujawa sees erotic energy as a tool for expanding consciousness, which is the tantric view long marginalized by mainstream religions. She argues that all of these goddesses are powerful and transformative portals between both life and death, and between Eros and Spirit. As such, Eastern and Western esoteric traditions then share the same messages, in Kujawa’s view.
It’s a cosmic journey: Gnosticism and Hinduism are telling the same story of self-exploration and discovery.
This book is organized as a journey that guides the reader from the personal, through the historical, to the archetypal, and then finally into the realm of possibility. It is approachable for a lay reader, yet grounded in scholarly works while not being academically off-putting. It is part memoir part mystical guidebook, with a large section devoted to a historical review of goddess archetypes.
At one point during this review I found myself saying, But this is just one lady’s opinion of the world, her worldview, her “theory of everything.” And I was bothered, but then quickly bothered that I was bothered. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that men write exactly such books all the time, and I read them. Was I questioning these theories in a harsher more removed way because the author was female and she was writing a female-centric version of reality—of all reality, of my reality? Was I part of the very machine she was describing and decrying?
Of course I am. That masculine machine is the air I—we all—breathe. And if I, who purport to be a scholar of “women’s spirituality,” judge female authors through a more harsh, inherited, and imbibed lens, then what hope is there for a reader perhaps less trained to be aware of the blinders of patriarchy? And while of course we must all read critically all things at all times; just because an author is female does not mean she is inherently trustworthy or flawless—of course not. But I legitimately felt myself questioning this book in a way I do not question worldview books written by men. I will admit that because I must; I must examine that ruthlessly. Did I question her because she is not a formal university professor at this time? The university is another shadow of patriarchy, albeit one that women have used to free ourselves from economic imprisonment.
But if, as Kujawa purports, Mary Magdalene holds out the egg, that gnostic nous of our higher mind and treasure of cosmic consciousness, what will it take before we see a female being with this power and ability to do this thing—to change lives and the very world order—a thing we have for centuries been bribed and bullied into believing only men can do?
This book calls for nothing short of a new way of seeing the world. Kujawa leads the way. I cannot agree with every logical leap she makes about the life of a Mediterranean woman long ago written out of history while her Mediterranean male best friend was souped up and marketed to become a juggernaut of world domination the likes of which he certainly never imagined. But I can readily agree that there is something central missing at the core of the Christian story, some reason why the early Church fathers were so keen that Christ just must be so a-sexual… Some dark reason why the fear of women has for centuries—until now—been the true force that rules the days of our lives. Perhaps that dark reason isn’t dark at all, but is red-cloaked, and smiling, unifying, and gentle. Perhaps she has just been hidden. Perhaps she rises now in every religious tradition from the mainstream to the most fringe, on every horizon all at once. Mary Magdalene?
Goddess. Unity. Dawn.
[Editor’s Note: This book review was first published in the journal, S/HE: An International Journal of Goddess Studies, V3 N2 2024.]