The Witching Hour in America

Praise the goddess and pass the magical candle — the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs has finally recognized the Wicca religion.

You've heard of the Wiccans, right? They're the group perhaps 700,000 strong in this country who sometimes call themselves witches — but sometimes don't. They believe in the power of the seasons, the goddess of the earth, and the United States of America, which some of them even died for. Until April 23, however, none of these vets were allowed to be officially buried under the Wiccan symbol, the pentacle — a five-pointed star inside a circle.

After a 10-year fight, the VA finally relented, agreeing to add the pentacle to its list of 38 other approved religious symbols, including an atom for atheists.

Leaving aside the question of why a country founded on religious freedom would even make a list of "approved religions" (what are we, China?), how did this breakthrough finally come to pass?

Simple, said Wiccan High Priestess (and Bronx shopkeeper) Lady Rhea: magic.

"There have been thousands of spells done to make the VA come around," said the Lady R. "Everyone's been doing a lot of magical operations to get them to agree that we have our Constitutional rights."

The fruits of these spells could not have come at a more propitious moment, as the beginning of May marks Beltane, one of the two highest holidays in the Wiccan religion (the other being Samhain, aka Halloween). This is the time of year when Wiccans all over American will dance 'round the Maypole in an age-old fertility rite (think: pole).

"Wicca has exploded in the last 10-15 years," said Margot Adler, an NPR correspondent and author of the goddess classic "Drawing Down the Moon." "There's even a military pagan network." And yet Adler sounds a little wistful remembering the religion's earlier, struggling days.

"When I got involved about 35 years ago, you went to the library to find out about groups," she said.

You were lucky if there was one in your state. "Now you can go on witchvox.com and if you're Irish you can find a Celtic group, or an Italian one with a strega background." At big Wiccan shindigs there's often a "teen tent" (where the kids probably talk about how square their parents are). Pagan Pride events are popping up all over. And alcoholic Wiccans can join a Pagan AA.

Wicca is the next yoga.

For all that, the religion is still widely distrusted, in large part because many confuse it with devil worship — something Wiccans never, ever practiced, except in B movies. To fight such disinformation, Laurie Cabot formed the witchcraft equivalent of the Anti-Defamation League.

"We have an organization here in Salem called the Witches Public Awareness League," Cabot said. As the "official witch" of Salem — thus proclaimed by former Mass. Gov. Michael Dukakis — she campaigns for Wiccan rights. In particular, she hopes to raise awareness of the prejudice that still meets many Wiccans in the courtroom, where judges have decided custody suits against them because of their religion.

Unfortunately, there is still no spell against prejudice that has proven 100 percent effective. But a Wiccan named Starr has concocted one potion that is almost as sought after (check out charmedbystarr.com).

"I have an incense to try to get rid of parking tickets," she said. "It worked a little bit."

Share that with the world and Wiccans will not only be tolerated — they will be worshipped.

Lenore Skenazy is a contributing editor at the New York Sun. To find out more about Lenore Skenazy (lenore@lenoretown.com), and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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