Churchianity: When Orthodoxy Becomes Heresy

1st series (Judaic Strand from Homo Serpiens): Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Audio at the end. Old Homo Serpiens text in bold.

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“It seems that in the appearance of Jesus on earth unitive energy was transmitted to man and we have to speculate that this happened before man was ready for it.” —Ernest Scott, The People of the Secret

Christ Vs. Jehovah

“If, however, God is born as a man and wants to unite mankind in the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, he must suffer the terrible torture of having to endure the world in all its reality. This is the cross he has to bear, and he himself is a cross. The whole world is God’s suffering, and every individual man who wants to get anywhere near his own wholeness knows that this is the way of the cross.” —C. G. Jung, “The Problem of the Fourth”

Although the Old and New Testaments of the Bible are generally regarded as complementary halves of a single doctrine, it doesn’t take an overly analytical mind to spot the discrepancies. There is an abyss of difference between Jehovah’s exhortation, “I am a jealous God, worship none but me!” and Jesus’ “I am the way, the truth, the life.” The magikal explanation for this is simple: Christ—the historical personage, if such there was—came not at Jehovah’s behest but expressly in defiance of Him. His mission involved supplanting the old demiurge and opening up a new channel by which humanity might connect directly with the divine, thereby experiencing itself not as subject to God, but as God.

Jesus or Jeshua taught that “the kingdom is within,” and delivered an unequivocal promise to his disciples: “At that day ye shall know that I am in the Father, and ye in me, and I in you” (John 14:20). Such words suggest a holographic Universe in which every atom contains the totality (“Eternity in a grain of sand”), and would seem to make a mockery of the ordinary concepts of worship. The idea of a God in-dwelling was closer to animism than the monotheism of the Jews, so whatever gospel Christ was bringing, it was not merely a continuation of the law of Moses. It was its fulfillment, and therefore its cancellation.

As “the Son of Man,” Christ explicitly identified himself as human, at the same time revealing humanity to be divine: “Ye are as gods” (John 10:34). The idea of a “kingdom within” was incompatible with—maybe even hostile to—any kind of orthodox religious doctrine. It hinted at the possibility of individual gnosis, rejecting all systems of external worship, priestcraft, or religious power structures, seemingly in defiance of the very idea of “gods” as separate from (or outside of) ourselves.

Such a radical stance made Jeshua a genuine “messianic” contender, a mortal threat not only to Judaic rule but to all [religious] power structures. The moment he identified himself as Christ—i.e., man-god, God-as-Man—and urged others to follow his example, he challenged the intermediary authority of priests and kings as obsolete.

It may be difficult in today’s climate to understand how drastic an affront to established religion and holy writ such a doctrine (and presence) would have been. Today, having been fully assimilated by the prevailing religious and political power structures, rendered harmless hence ineffective, it seems anything but revolutionary.

If Christ’s message could only be understood directly, via experience, it becomes worse than meaningless if taken merely on “faith”; and yet the Christian religion is constructed wholly around the idea of faith. If Christ’s mission was to open the way to gnosis (divine consciousness), it could only be fully appreciated by active engagement in the truths demonstrated. Yet Christianity asks its followers simply to believe in Christ’s divinity, and promises them a place in eternity for doing so. Nothing could be further from the truth.

It is John’s account (sometimes referred to as “the Gnostic gospel”) that best illustrates the truth. John states, “For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ” (1:17). Later he writes, “Therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because [he said] that God was his Father, making himself equal with God” (5:18).

In John’s account, Jesus reprimands the Jews and denounces the inferiority of their (Mosaic) doctrine, saying, “Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever” (6:49-50). In response, the Jews murmured among themselves: “We know that God spake unto Moses: as for this fellow, we know not from whence he is” (9:29). The answer is that he came from (and brought) a different “God.”

Jesus directly challenged Judaic belief. “For judgment I am come into this world, that they which see not might see; and that they which see might be made blind. . . If ye were blind, ye should have no sin: but now ye say, We see; therefore your sin remaineth” (9:39,41). When Jesus meets the Samarian woman at the well, she demands: “Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well?” Christ replies: “Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again. But whosoever drinketh of the water I shall give you shall never thirst” (4:12-14). Likewise, “Moses gave you not that bread from heaven; but my father giveth you true bread from heaven” (6:32).

Jesus is most explicit of all when he cries out in the Temple: “Ye both know me, and ye know whence I am: I am not come of myself, but he that sent me is true, whom ye know not. But I know him” (7:28, 29). The inference of these words is unmistakable. The God who sent Christ was not the God worshiped [by the time of Jesus] by the Judeans.

Blood Transfusions

When Christ referred to “our Father who art in Heaven,” he referred not to the tyrannical demiurge favored by the Jews but to something else, something more like an abstract source of consciousness. The term “father” denoted benevolence (as opposed to dominance), and indicated that we are all emanations of a single force, birds of a feather, members of a single family, a collective DNA.

The Gnostic tradition, to which Christ belonged, supplanted “faith” (blind obedience to an unknown power) with experience and knowledge—not intellectual knowledge but visceral, bodily illumination. The means by which Christ effected this movement—from passive worship of divine powers to active engagement with them—is shrouded in mystery to this day. The only real clue that remains in the gospels is probably that of the Eucharist. “Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you . . . For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him” (John 6: 53-56).

Today such explicit imagery is a source of embarrassment to the Christian church, since it lacks the means either to understand or explain it. Having never experienced gnosis, it is content merely to parrot his words and keep clear of their actual meaning, a meaning which, as we have stated, can only be grasped via practice.

The notion of Christ offering a blood “transfusion” to his followers—as well as his parable of the vine (“I am the vine, you are the branches”)—hints at the secret means by which a god-form is created: via the blood. It also implies the disturbing (to orthodoxy at least) possibility that knowledge of the divine is not an intellectual proposition at all, but must be undergone physically.

Even without suggesting actual cannibalism or vampirism, such an idea would be anathema to the conservative Christian leaders, then as much as now, so it is no wonder the Gnostic (and later Templar) rites were denounced as satanic.

What kind of rituals were involved in the transference/transmutation process by which Christ’s disciples came to partake of his consciousness and “dwell in him”? No one seems to know for sure, but whatever they were, the New Testament isn’t saying. From a magikal perspective, it’s likely such arcane rituals involved advanced sexual techniques designed to release specific chemicals within the human body (DMT?) and so effect the desired “transformation,” the activation of the plasmate. It’s also possible that, for those resistant to sexual initiation, mind-altering plants and chemicals were involved (an equally shocking possibility to the status quo, then as now).

Whatever the nature of the secret Gnostic initiation, Christ’s own words suggest that entry into the new state was complete and final, and not, as in former paradigms, partial and temporary. Via the plasmate, the initiate became Christ, and by extension God. He or she was not merely a member of the new Church but the totality of it, in and of him- or herself. That this remains a mystery to this day may be due, not only to its sociopolitical and religious ramifications, but to the fact that such a profound experience as gnosis is all but impossible for the dualistic (i.e., unenlightened) mind to comprehend, much less describe. As Ernest Scott writes in People of the Secret:

At that level the Event was not understood. It was experienced in its entirety at Apostolic level by men and women who had been raised in consciousness by their proximity to the Event. At Pentecost they were raised further to the experience of union with unitive energy. The experience was so transcendent—perhaps obliterative—that they were no longer capable of comprehending the situation of those who had not experienced it: and who did not possess even the minimal basis (consciousness) upon which it could be experienced (p. 41).