Holidays in Hell: Satanic Temple Colorado Gets in the Spirit With This Event

As the days grow shorter and colder, Santa Claus isn’t the only folkloric figure whose presence will be felt in Denver this holiday season. The Satanic Temple Colorado, which was officially founded in 2016, will be channeling and celebrating its namesake during its annual Saturnalia event on Saturday, December 16, at the Marquis Theater. But for the record, there won't be a photo op with Lucifer: The temple doesn't actually believe in a physical deity such as the one painted in many Christian depictions, explains Philip Blaqk, congregation head of Satanic Temple Colorado and an ordained minister of Satan.

“We are a non-theistic religion," he says. "We don’t believe in a literal Satan, or Devil, or little red man with a pitchfork. ... We see him as a symbolic figure, as someone who is standing up against oppression and bureaucracy."

Instead, the Satanic Temple bases its idea of the Devil on a much more modern movement from the early 1800s, when contemporary writers, in such works as Paradise Lost, began to depict the Christian version of Satan as the hero instead of the anti-hero and the embodiment of evil.

“A lot of our inspiration for being called Satanists actually comes from just after the French Revolution, the Enlightenment era, when a lot of artists, poets and writers started seeing Satan in the Bible as the heroic figure in the story,” Blaqk explains. “He was trying to stand up for knowledge, seeking information and equal rights. Writers like William Blake and Percy Bysshe Shelley and John Milton brought a lot of that to the forefront back in those days."

The national Satanic Temple was established in 2012 and is fittingly based in Salem, Massachusetts. It’s also totally independent and unrelated to the Church of Satan, which Anton LaVey started and popularized in the 1960s. “The Church of Satan expresses vehement opposition to the campaigns and activities of the Satanic Temple, asserting themselves as the only ‘true’ arbiters of Satanism, while the Satanic Temple dismisses the Church of Satan as irrelevant and inactive,” the Satanic Temple clarifies on its website.

Unlike LaVeyan Satanism, the Satanic Temple states that its mission is to “encourage benevolence and empathy, reject tyrannical authority, advocate practical common sense, oppose injustice, and undertake noble pursuits.”

The Satanic Temple has been met with regular opposition, mainly by religious groups, and has made national headlines over the years, particularly being part of a lawsuit that was filed against the State of Arkansas after a Ten Commandments monument was placed at the state's capitol building in 2017. The First Amendment case, as well as the Satanic Temple, are the subject of the 2019 documentary Hail Satan?, in which the temple argues that a statue of the goat-headed pagan idol Baphomet should also be placed on the capitol grounds.

Ever since the Satanic Temple Colorado, which is one of 56 temples worldwide, became a church in 2020, there hasn’t been nearly as much hubbub. “We started off as a very small group of people and have had a lot of growth over the years,” notes Blaqk, who joined the local congregation in 2019. “Right now we’re about forty to fifty official members, but we have hundreds and hundreds of people who support us throughout the state and country, of course.”

While he previously was aware of the Satanic Temple, Blaqk actually discovered the local Satanic community after attending a viewing of Hail Satan?. “I had heard of the Satanic Temple for years and years, ever since the Arkansas statue scenario. I always thought they were really neat — what they were doing and what they stood for,” he shares. “I didn’t even know we had a congregation here in Colorado until the Hail Satan? documentary came out. Me and my wife went to see that, and we ran into some folks who were already with the temple. We got to talking to them, and we found out there was indeed a chapter here, so we started going to events, and that’s how I got involved.”

Blaqk didn’t necessarily have a “traumatic religious upbringing, but it was very Catholic,” he says.

“Luckily, my parents were cool enough to allow me the freedom to explore and question. They weren’t super strict about it,” he continues. “I always felt weird about some of the dogmas that were put upon us, like an actual baptism, communion, things like that.”

Many members can relate to Blaqk’s religious introduction and upbringing, which is why an “unbaptism” ritual is part of the Saturnalia festivities for those who are interested. “We usually do a ritual on stage, and anybody who wants to participate can be unbaptized,” he explains. “Basically, an unbaptism ritual offers a chance to shed archaic and oppressive dogmas that were put on us when we were young and couldn’t make the decision for ourselves. A lot of people find it really cathartic and a chance for introspection.”

Blaqk wrote and performed last year’s ritual. But Saturnalia, which is inspired by the ancient Roman pagan festival in honor of the agricultural god Saturn, is a chance to “decompress” more than anything, with a concert and burlesque on the agenda. This year, God Module, Voicecoil and Whorticulture are playing, while performers Foxie Dreame and Selene Obscené are the official hosts.

Like most of the Colorado temple’s events, it is open to the public, not just members. “Everybody can come. You don’t have to be a Satanist. We welcome everybody of all faiths and backgrounds,” Blaqk says. “Everybody’s welcome to come and party with us and celebrate.”

The temple is used to being stereotyped, but people are usually surprised to find out the local organization’s work includes such initiatives as adopt-a-highway cleanups in Louisville and the Devil’s Food Drive, in partnership with Bar Nun, rather than occult sacrifices. The national temple also started an “After School Satan Club” in Paonia — one of eight nationwide — last year. The club’s national campaign director, June Everett, is a Colorado Springs native. There are currently no plans to start another club in the state.

“We do get a lot of people who are just curious. They’re not really sure what to make of us, so they’ll come to an event or one of our meetings,” Blaqk says.

“I feel like a good portion of the time, they get a better understanding of what we’re about and walk away feeling a little more positive about it,” he adds. “Of course, there’s always going to be people who it’s going to be a little hard to change their minds, and that’s okay. We’re not here to proselytize, preach or convert anyone. We understand that it’s not for everybody.”

Mark Sousa, the Denver producer behind alternative electronic-pop act Voicecoil, knew of the Satanic Temple and the local Saturnalia event before he played a virtual version of it during the pandemic. His industrial project, Gravity Corps, also played an in-person Saturnalia.

While he considers himself an atheist and is not a member of the temple, Sousa can support the mission and sees why people are drawn to modern-day Satanism. “It’s an interesting group of people,” he says. “You go in, and I think there are people who take a more spiritual aspect of it very seriously. Then I think there are people who view it more as being about freedom and being socially liberal and having a safe space to express yourself free of a lot of the societal constraints that generally tend to exist nowadays.”

He admits he didn’t know what to expect at first, but it ended up being a great show.

“I was surprised with how receptive and energetic the crowd was. I was playing for a lot of people who would not normally see what I do. The crowd was very engaged very early in the evening, which was cool,” Sousa says. “It was a party environment. It’s a concert, but everybody was very, very friendly. The organization itself has always been consummate professionals.”

With such a non-judgmental approach, the Satanic Temple Colorado certainly knows how to throw a party. Plus, no one will be gifted a lump of coal for acting a little naughty.

“If you already know what we’re about, you kind of know what to expect,” Blaqk concludes. “If you don’t know what we’re about, come hang out with us, party, talk to us and get to know us. See what we’re about.”

The Satanic Temple Colorado presents Saturnalia, 6:45 p.m. Saturday, December 16, Marquis, 2009 Larimer Street. Tickets are $30-$38.