What makes a spiritual community worthy of your life?
The answer isn’t in the group’s mission statement or bylaws. And believe it or not, it’s not found simply in doing ritual together or holding potlucks. It’s revealed by the patterns of behavior in the community—and whether those patterns lead to positive transformation over time or something else entirely.
During my decade in OTO, I experienced and witnessed real spiritual growth. But I also saw behaviors which, left unchecked, rot the community from the inside, erode trust and purpose, and drain the very magick that brought people together in the first place.
I’ve distilled my insights into four core questions. Fail even one, and the foundation of your community is already cracked.
Principle 1 — Purpose That Transforms
Question: Is our purpose transformative—or just a list of activities?
I remember an early experience of attending the Gnostic Mass, OTO’s main public ritual. I was having a conversation with the person next to me when the Deacon announced the start. We went through the whole ceremony—about 45 minutes. When it was over, the person turned back to me and continued our discussion exactly where it left off—as if the ceremony had never even happened.
It’s common in OTO for the Gnostic Mass to serve as a 45–60 minute break between bouts of bullshitting and drinking Apothic Red. Mediocre performance, the monotony of repetition, and a lack of shared focus contribute to this. My own attempts to rekindle the original intent—through education on Crowley’s purpose—were undercut by a Grand Lodge culture that promotes “Mass-a-thons,” steampunk Masses, and even entertained a Harambe-themed Mass. And it’s not unique to OTO—I’ve seen it in small ritual groups too, where within seconds of finishing a working, people are loudly debating pizza vs. wings.
Without a sense of common purpose:
- Ritual becomes a performance checkbox instead of a transformational act.
- Members unconsciously learn that the real purpose of gathering is the social scene, not the magic.
- The “voltage” that could change people gets bled off into casual chatter and gimmicks.
- Over time, the group’s sense of mission erodes, making space for self-serving and even corrupt behavior.
Takeaway for any community: A real purpose should be so alive in the group’s culture that it shapes everything—from how rituals are approached to how members treat one another. If purpose becomes an afterthought, everything else becomes empty form—including basic standards of safety and spiritual work.
Principle 2 — Structure That Protects Aliveness
Question: Does our structure protect authenticity, or smother it?
I know the pain of not being able to bring your true self into group work. When I first joined my OTO local body, overbearing and toxic behavior was tolerated as the norm. People walked on eggshells to avoid drama. Most won’t choose honesty when it risks guilt-tripping, triangulation, or blow-ups.
So when I became local body master, I made it a priority to establish basic, reasonable boundaries:
- We take feedback with grace.
- We speak respectfully.
- We address problems sooner rather than later.
- Your personal relationships outside the Order are your own.
- You have rights within the organization.
- Advancement has clear, written criteria.
New members appreciated this clarity. Some upper degrees claimed to—but in practice, they resisted it. Being undermined on these principles was one of the main reasons I stepped down after two years.
Ripple effects when boundaries aren’t upheld:
- Confidence erodes that leadership will protect people from harm.
- Members bypass process and use personal influence to get what they want.
- Leaders stop acting decisively, fearing retaliation.
- Decision-making becomes theater—the real rules are unwritten.
- The environment quietly becomes unsafe, primed for manipulation and abuse.
Takeaway for any community: Healthy structures don’t stifle—they create space where authenticity can thrive without fear. Without that, the best people leave, and the worst people consolidate power.
Principle 3 — People You Can Trust with Power
Question: Are the people in power worthy of it?
In OTO, I saw many people advanced to high degree—or handed major leadership roles—who had no business holding that authority:
- Members given invitational degrees despite long histories of drama.
- Individuals with substance abuse, domestic violence issues, or documented dishonesty put in charge of local bodies.
- A local body master kept in place while under 24/7 suicide watch after manipulative and threatening behavior came to light.
- A U.S. National Grand Master who tore people down to impress junior members.
When untrustworthy people hold power:
- Fear and exhaustion drive members to withdraw.
- Dangerous behavior is normalized if it comes from high-status figures.
- The group’s reputation suffers—outsiders hear the stories and stay away.
- The moral center shifts from protecting the vulnerable to protecting the powerful.
Takeaway for any community: You can survive a bad ritual or a failed event. You cannot survive a culture where power is given to those who abuse it. Choose leaders for their character, not their connections.
Principle 4 — Mystery Held in Coherence
Question: Can we hold spiritual intensity without collapsing into chaos or control?
True spiritual work carries voltage. I’ve experienced it stir people, shake them, and even change the course of their lives. But that charge needs a container strong enough to hold it. This is true in individual work—which is why many traditions begin with ethical practices—but it’s even more necessary in group work, where the risks include chaos, personal drama, manipulation, grooming, and authoritarian overreach.
The danger is especially high in a place like OTO, whose central mysteries are sexual in nature. Without firm ethical grounding and the will to enforce it, sexual voltage in the group space is easily distorted into predation or power games.
I’ve seen and heard of:
- A well-connected upper degree sexually assaulting a teenage boy under the guise of flirting.
- A new male member groped by an upper-degree woman minutes after arriving at a local body.
- Local bodies where oral sex was casually offered to new arrivals as part of the “vibe.”
- Men decades older in high degrees pursuing much younger, lower-degree women—relationships defended as “consensual” despite an obvious power imbalance.
- A sexual predator using political connections to appeal a judgment and get reinstated.
Ripple effects:
- Members—especially younger ones—learn that boundary violations are tolerated if the violator is connected.
- People focus on navigating unsafe dynamics instead of doing spiritual work.
- Survivors leave quietly, taking trust and talent with them.
- The line between genuine erotic contact with the mystery and predatory behavior blurs—until abuse can be reframed as initiation.
Takeaway for any community: Mystery is sacred, but it cannot survive in a toxic interpersonal field. The stronger the voltage, the stronger the container must be—clear ethics, firm boundaries, and leaders willing to enforce them without favoritism.
Conclusion
The health of a spiritual community isn’t measured by how many rituals it performs, how many members it has, or how impressive its leaders look on paper. It’s measured by whether purpose, structure, leadership, and mystery are aligned in service to transformation.
When even one of these pillars is compromised, the cracks spread quickly. What begins as a few isolated “incidents” becomes a culture—one that drives away the very people who could keep it alive.
Ask these four questions often. Answer them honestly. And if the answer to any is “no,” don’t look away. The work ahead isn’t more ritual—it’s rebuilding the foundation that makes any of it worth doing.