Jesus posed as the son-lover of the goddess. (Part 1)

For thousands of years there existed the sacred ritual focused on the myth of the Mother Goddess and her son-lover. In the Christian tradition that became solidified hundreds of years after Jesus' death, Mary was elevated to the ancient role of the Goddess. Strangely, the perennial mythic images of the dying, resurrected God also gathered around the figure of Jesus. This coincidence has made it impossible for many to distinguish between myth and reality.

With the exception of Dumuzi's lament in Sumeria, Jesus took on the first role of the "son-lover" whose voice has been transmitted via written scriptures. You can also see this ancient myth played out in the bridegroom's song in the biblical Song of Songs. However, it's in the story of Jesus that the "son-God" first teaches the meaning of his sacrifice, and it is also the first time that the son-God takes the sacrifice upon himself willingly. In the tradition that preceded him for thousands of years, the son-lovers
 of the goddess of earlier times were not shown as consenting to their death or understanding it. Thus, in the story of the son-lover, or bridegroom, of Jesus we see a clear leap of consciousness to another level.

The question bemoans us to understand the parallels between Christianity and religious beliefs many thousands of years older than itself. We must also seek to understand why and how this myth came to surround itself in the life of someone called Jesus, who was a profound Messenger for humanity. Christians say it is because Jesus was the Son of God. However, one must know that this same story existed prior to Jesus in the story of Dumuzi in Sumeria, of Tammuz in Babylonia, of Attis in Phrygia, of Dionysus and Adonis of the Greeks, and of Horus or Osiris of the Egyptians. If one is not wholly aware of the existences of these ancient myths of the Goddess and her son-God as lover, then one cannot fully understand the similarities found within the Christian story that was formed to package the life of Jesus into this same cultural belief system.

Let's examine some similarities:

The cross upon which Christ hangs was often shown in early Christianity as two branches of a living tree. Often the tree was shown with all but the essential branches cut back to the stem, rendering the cross as the ever living Tree of Life. Let us review the symbolism of the Tree of Life to point out the universality of this image. Once the epiphany of the Mother Goddess came into the human psyche, the dramas of the Tree of Life followed within the cultural evolution of humanity. Trees were shown as giving birth to Gods and heroic redeemers. Then the gods began to be shown as embodied in the tree's rising sap and the dynamic and renewing phases of its growth. Dumuzi of Sumeria, the son-lover of Inanna, was called the "Son of the Abyss: Lord of the Tree of Life." In Egypt, the sun god was born variously from the heavenly cow, Hathor, the female body of Nut, the sky goddess, or from the highest branches of the tree of Isis. The brother-husband of Isis, Osiris, who as the setting sun, became the lord of the underworld, was reborn from a tree.

Additionally, there was a tree for Queen Maya to lean against when she gave birth to the Buddha. It was also beneath the boddhi tree that the mature Buddha sat until he reached enlightenment. In Ancient Greece, the myrtle tree gave birth to Adonis, who was the lover of Aphrodite. Adonis was also known as the God of regeneration, whose death and resurrection were mourned yearly in the springtime. In Persia & Rome, Mithras was the sun God who came forth from a tree (or sometimes a cave) and the winter solstice as the Sol Invictus. This title naturally fell to Jesus, who was "born" at the same time. Imaginal trees surround the life of Jesus as well. His earthly father was a carpenter, a fashioner of the cut tree. Furthermore, in the Rig Veda, the architect of the universe, Tvastri, is imagined as a carpenter, who fashions the world into being.

Doctrinally, the symbolism of the cross in the Christian Faith dismisses any reference to its universality as a symbol for believers of many creeds. In the Christian doctrine, the cross as the Tree of Life is positioned symbolically as counter to the Tree of Knowledge. This symbolism in the Christian doctrine purports that the cross is the image of final redemption of the original Fall of mankind. In art Christ was also shown as hanging on a tree of grapes, which linked his sacrifice with that of the dismembered God of the Greeks, Dionysus. This symbolism doctrinally linked itself to his statement: "I am the vine, ye are the branches" (John 15:5)

Sometimes as in the Byzantine mosaic on the Church of San Clemente, the death and resurrection of Christ are portrayed as one image. In this artistic representation, the spiraling Tree of Life takes back into itself the body of Jesus, the trunk of the tree serving as the cross upon which Christ hangs surrounded by doves. The Tree of Life in this imagery both contains and transforms the cross of its central branches, and the drama is one where the Lord of the Tree of Life is cut down for the birth of all.

In this you will find the symbolism of the Christian tradition of Palm Sunday and Ash Wednesday ynsince the ashes placed on the foreheads of the faithful are the embers of last year's palm leaves, which have been blessed with holy water and the sign of the cross. This ceremony symbolically revives the life-force of the Tree of Life. The mass of Palm Sunday, which begins the Holy Week that ends in the resurrection of Christ at Easter, begins with a consecration of branches of Palm and olive, not the customary bread and wine. In fact, the whole aspect of the Holy Week in Christian tradition takes on the character of a Mystery drama, in which the events of the "passion" of Christ are re-enacted every year. This is the exact same ritual as was done in the Mysteries of Attis at Rome, or the Mystery of Osiris, which culminated in the raising of the wooden pillar of the Tree of Life, a symbol of resurrection: "Osiris is risen," the people cried!

into the veins of time

fading moonlight kisses my saddened eyes
whispering into me a truth that burns
into my flaming heart
How do I?
silent harmonies whisper
into my soul that yearns

take me on a journey
behind the veil of I
am constantly seeking
Mercy, upon me

The case for Compassion.

All that is ill within humanity derives from a lack of love. All that is wrong with humanity is somewhere associated with love. Humans are either not able to love, or are not able to receive love. People have forgotten how to share their being. That's a great cause of misery. This inability to fully love or to receive love creates all sorts of complexes inside. 

Wounds inside us can surface in many ways. They can become physical illness, they can become spiritual illness---but deep down humanity suffers from a lack of love. Just as food and water is needed for the body, love is needed for the soul. Our bodies cannot survive without food, and our souls cannot survive without love. 

What, then, is compassion? Compassion is a pure form of love. Sex is the lowest form of love, compassion the highest form of love. In sex the contact is basically physical; in compassion the contact is basically spiritual. In love, compassion and sex are mixed, the physical and the spiritual are mixed. Love, for most, is the middle point between compassion and sex.

Compassion is also one of the highest forms of energy. In fact, the word "compassion" is quite beautiful: half of it is "passion"--so I think of compassion as refined passion. 

Most people today equate sex with love. However, in sex, you use the other in many ways, you reduce the other to a means, you reduce the other to a thing, a commodity. That's why in unrefined sexual relationships people begin to feel a sort of reduction spiritually. Nowadays, people have allowed themselves to be reduced to a commodity, a thing. This inherently strips away a person's true freedom. The more you are treated as a person, the more you are free. The more you are treated as a thing, a commodity, the less free you truly are. 

In Love, there is gratitude, there is deep gratefulness. You know that the other is not a thing, a commodity. You know that the other has a grandeur, a soul, an individuality. In Love you give total freedom to the other. Of course, it's a give and take. 

In Compassion, you simply give. There is no idea in your mind to get anything in return--you simply share, you simply give. Not that nothing comes to you! A millionfold your compassion is returned, but that is merely a natural consequence. 

In love you are thankful because the other has given something to you. In compassion you are thankful because the other has taken something from you. In compassion you have energy that you are willingly giving, and you are thankful they are receptive of that energy. 

Compassion is the highest form of love. 

When a flower has bloomed, it has to release its fragrance to the winds. It is natural! It is not a bargain, it is not a business, it is not a commodity to be traded--it is simply natural. The flower is full of fragrance. If the flower keeps the fragrance to itself then the flower will be in deep anguish. The greatest anguish in life is when you cannot express, when you cannot communicate, when you cannot share. 

Be like the flower. Bloom. Share. Be compassionate. Be Love. 

My spirit cannot be enslaved.

I don't succumb to the animal magic rituals found within manmade laws. I don't bind myself to the blood rituals of ancient Rome. I will not bind my soul to murderous regimes whose aim has always been worldwide dominion and the enslavement of populations. My spirit they cannot enslave nor control. There is NO TRUTH in human or animal sacrifice. May the veil be removed so that humanity can once and for all be set free from these fear-based, dominion-oriented cults. 

Vice Into Virtue.

Let us remember that there are seven vices that we must transmute into wisdom and love:

Avarice is transformed into hope and altruism.

Laziness is transmuted into prudent diligence.

Lust is transmuted into the chastity and charity of the Spirit.

Pride must be transmuted into faith and into the humility.

Anger is transmuted into the marvelous force of love.

Envy is transmuted into philanthropy and happiness for others.

Gluttony is transmuted into temperance.

The Jackal and the spring.

Once upon a time all the streams and rivers ran so dry that the animals did not know how to get water. After a very long search, which had been quite in vain, they found a tiny spring, which only wanted to be dug deeper so as to yield plenty of water. So the beasts said to each other, 'Let us dig a well, and then we shall not fear to die of thirst;' and they all consented except the jackal, who hated work of any kind, and generally got somebody to do it for him.

When they had finished their well, they held a council as to who should be made the guardian of the well, so that the jackal might not come near it, for, they said, 'he would not work, therefore he shall not drink.'

After some talk it was decided that the rabbit should be left in charge; then all the other beasts went back to their homes.

When they were out of sight the jackal arrived. 'Good morning! Good morning, rabbit!' and the rabbit politely said, 'Good

morning!' Then the jackal unfastened the little bag that hung at his side, and pulled out of it a piece of honeycomb which he

began to eat, and turning to the rabbit he remarked:

'As you see, rabbit, I am not thirsty in the least, and this is nicer than any water.'

'Give me a bit,' asked the rabbit. So the jackal handed him a very little morsel.

'Oh, how good it is!' cried the rabbit; 'give me a little more, dear friend!'

But the jackal answered, 'If you really want me to give you some more, you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your

back, so that I can pour it into your mouth.'

The rabbit did as he was bid, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal ran to the spring and drank as

much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back, and when they saw the rabbit lying with his paws tied, they said to him: 'Rabbit, how did you let yourself be taken in like this?'

'It was all the fault of the jackal,' replied the rabbit; 'he tied me up like this, and told me he would give me something nice to eat. It was all a trick just to get at our water.'

'Rabbit, you are no better than an idiot to have let the jackal drink our water when he would not help to find it. Who shall be

our next watchman? We must have somebody a little sharper than you!' and the little hare called out, 'I will be the watchman.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the little hare to guard the spring. When they were out

of sight the jackal came back. 'Good morning! good morning, little hare,' and the little hare politely said, 'Good morning.'

'Can you give me a pinch of snuff?' said the jackal.

'I am so sorry, but I have none,' answered the little hare.

The jackal then came and sat down by the little hare, and unfastened his little bag, pulling out of it a piece of honeycomb. He licked his lips and exclaimed, 'Oh, little hare, if you only knew how good it is!'

'What is it?' asked the little hare.

'It is something that moistens my throat so deliciously,' answered the jackal, 'that after I have eaten it I don't feel thirsty any more, while I am sure that all you other beasts are forever wanting water.'

'Give me a bit, dear friend,' asked the little hare.

'Not so fast,' replied the jackal. 'If you really wish to enjoy what you are eating, you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your back, so that I can pour it into your mouth.'

'You can tie them, only be quick,' said the little hare, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal went quietly down to the well, and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back; and when they saw the little hare with his paws tied, they said to him: 'Little hare,

how did you let yourself be taken in like this? Didn't you boast you were very sharp? You undertook to guard our water; now show us how much is left for us to drink!'

'It is all the fault of the jackal,' replied the little hare. 'He told me he would give me something nice to eat if I would just let him tie my hands behind my back.'

Then the animals said, 'Who can we trust to mount guard now?' And the panther answered, 'Let it be the tortoise.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the tortoise to guard the spring. When they were out of

sight the jackal came back. 'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.'

But the tortoise took no notice.

'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.' But still the tortoise pretended not to hear.

Then the jackal said to himself, 'Well, to-day I have only got to manage a bigger idiot than before. I shall just kick him on one side, and then go and have a drink.' So he went up to the tortoise and said to him in a soft voice, 'Tortoise! tortoise!'

but the tortoise took no notice. Then the jackal kicked him out of the way, and went to the well and began to drink, but scarcely had he touched the water, than the tortoise seized him by the leg. The jackal shrieked out: 'Oh, you will break my leg!' but the tortoise only held on the tighter. The jackal then took his bag and tried to make the tortoise smell the honeycomb he had inside; but the tortoise turned away his head and smelt nothing.

At last the jackal said to the tortoise, 'I should like to give you my bag and everything in it,' but the only answer the

tortoise made was to grasp the jackal's leg tighter still.

So matters stood when the other animals came back. The moment he saw them, the jackal gave a violent tug, and managed to free his leg, and then took to his heels as fast as he could. And the animals all said to the tortoise:

'Well done, tortoise, you have proved your courage; now we can drink from our well in peace, as you have got the better of that

thieving jackal!'

[Contes Populaires des Bassoutos, recueillis et traduits par E.

Jacottet. Paris: Leroux, editeur.]

Perceptions.

As within, so without.

The real battle of life is one of ideas. It is a timeless war fought out by the few against the many. On one side is constructive and creative thought dominated by ideals; on the other side is destructive and negative thought dominated by appearances.

That world is in a period of transition is apparent by the unrest everywhere. The complaint of humanity is as a roll of heaven's artillery, commencing with low and threatening notes and increasing until the sound is sent from cloud to cloud, and the lightning splits the earth and heavens.

The crux of the social problem is entirely a question of conviction in the minds of the people as to the nature of the Universe. When they truly realize that the transcendent force of spirit or mind of the Cosmos is within each individual, it will be possible to frame laws that shall consider the liberties and rights of the many instead of the privileges of the few.

The true interest of the emerging world is to emancipate and recognize the human spirit. To recognize that the power that is inherent within. That no human being has anymore power than another human being. The old fatalistic doctrine of Divine election that inherently institutionalizes inequality and every form of privilege must be abolished in this new era.

Very true.

Soul Clouds.

the salt of the earth welcomes the shells of the sea.
our mountains are our paths
to be, to see, to free
ourselves.

let time bring eternity, for
within limitations sits our immortality.

what is time?
it's you
it's me

purification ignites
soul to spirit
aether loosens internal debris, and
freedom awaits
within the netherworld of mental mountains.

Orphaned, yet free.

Life has taught me many things, but one of the biggest things it has taught me is that things don't go away just because you ignore them. Things like fear, pain, anger, sadness, guilt; they cling to your soul no matter how far you've stuffed them away from your daily cognizance. They just get driven deeper, and eventually locked behind the numbness of our once vibrant hearts.

Last night before I fell asleep, I decided to do what some may never dare. I had a little conversation with Death. You see Death has always been lurking amongst the shadows of my being, weaving in and out throughout the years, sending along its passive threats to consume me. Death has always been the fear that has controlled me the most, whether it's the death of a family member, the death of a job, the death of a relationship, or death of a former me as I travelled along life's highway. So, I decided that it was time for Death and I to have a little chat. I've grown tired of Death's passive, yet, lingering grasp of me. I invited Death to step forward and show me its many faces, and when they all appeared before me, I explained to them all that I knew I couldn't control how or when they appeared in my life, but I don't want to live and die with my heart imprisoned behind their walls.

They whispered back to me, "Wouldn't you rather die numb?"

"No!" I whimpered back. "I'd rather die soft and feeling pain than hard, brittle and numb. I want to die all the little and big deaths with my heart free, wide open, wondering and loving/living fiercely!"

Their response was immediate: "Then how do you have to live so you can be sure to die that way?"

And I realized that the will to live and the will to die are intertwined.

Last night as I lay exploring the complexities of interiority, I found a twisted seed of passion I've been slowly, yet surely, nurturing my whole life--the seed of denial. Whenever I've been hurt or was afraid, I turned to ice. But last night upon my windy mountaintop under the immense white sky, where everything has been frozen into dormancy, I made a commitment to melt those attachments clinging to my soul that are stuck there from ignoring their presence. Despair, hurt, guilt.

If I feel the energy in my body, and don't tell myself any stories about it, if I follow it all the way, drifting down until I touch the soil where the pain and fear can root, what will it become in the spring? Could that twisted seed of passion, denial, become the full, ripe seed of presence, of coming to my senses, the place where true Passion abides?

The ice walls that have been the fortress of my soul for so long are melting, softening. I am learning not to ignore or abandon myself when I am in pain. In some ways I am an orphan now that this twisted seed isn't an umbilicus.

I am an orphan who is also free now to live abandoned and fully alive.

Let go.

The devils in disguise.

Men seek salvation from evil that they feel is a living monster of the underworld, and idolize those natures portrayed as gods but are demons in disguise; they feel powerful but are merely hate, jealousy, and impurity. These mirages of good and mirages of love must be given favors of sacrifices to keep their wrath at bay.

These lower self beings walk among us, the carnal nature of the lowest self made manifest in the flesh. These mirages possess no ears to hear, no eyes to see, no heart to sympathize, and no power to redeem. These carnal natures of men and women, disguised as power, can only provide emptiness as they are made of air and clothed with shadows of thought.

The only devil which men need to be redeemed or saved from is the self, the lower self. All one has to do to find the devil that haunts is to look within; the devil is simply found within each and every one of us.

So, the ego is the perpetrator of it all.

The ego's rigidity and resistance to correction are based on narcissistic egotism, pride, and vanity. The collective egos of whole nations bring about their downfall and destruction. Nationalistic vanities and slogans are inflated by political or righteous religious fervor that feed on whole populations for centuries. These frenzied, inflated, narcissistic ego positionalities result in the slaughter of millions of people and the downfall of demagogic leaders, and even their entire populations.

World history is the record of the cost of egotistic positionalities. The ego is not only incapable of assessing situations that are fatal but it even willingly sacrifices life for its own ends. The ego is therefore potentially deadly and would rather 'see you dead' than admit that it is wrong. The ego is capable of what can only be described as colossal ignorance. The ego is intransigent in that it fails to learn from its mistakes. Failed policies are reinstated repeatedly, even in the face of major catastrophe, and the justification is almost always a resort to some moralistic catch phrase that serves the political gains of the propagandists who exploit the gullibility of the naive public.

The ego is only interested in being seen as right and focused on "doing "something," no matter what the results might be. The ego often relies on force, whereas difficult problems can only be resolved through power that transcends the positionalities of 'good' vs 'bad'.

The ego conceals, whereas awareness reveals. The answer to many defective ego positions could be resolved in the sanity of common sense. The ego is naive despite its pretentiousness. It pompously demands proof of the obvious, and in doing so, it is slyly nonintegrous. It could best be described as sophomoric in its facile solutions and self-importance.

The ego feels threatened by common sense and piously recites how society has been mistaken in the past. In so doing it conveniently refuses to cite examples of common sense at all but instead cites examples of faulty collective-ego positions.

The ego holds onto the pleasure and satisfaction of hatred and getting even instead of surrendering to the willingness to forgive and forget. People cling to the familiar, even if it is killing them. Despite their protests, the average person is actually a willing participant in the individual and collective egos. It is resistant to turning down the payoffs of smugly feeling one is better than, more important than, or superior to other people. The satisfaction of spite, revenge, getting even, or 'making them pay' is addictive and self-serving, egotistical, and thus dominates entire nations and religious sects through endless conflict.

These egotistical positions have been institutionalized for decades, even centuries, to guarantee an uninterrupted promulgation. Catering to the ignorance of the masses has filled the bank accounts of the arms merchants and given them power over others.

The sad fact is that the so-called 'holy lands' are currently some of the most unholy places on Earth. Paradoxically, these legendary pieces of land that have cost the lives of multitudes of people over the centuries calibrate with hatred. The footprints of the prophets have been obliterated with the flow of the blood of cruelty and suffering.

I know the way you can get...

I know the way you can get
When you have not had a drink of Love:

Your face hardens,
Your sweet muscles cramp.
Children become concerned
About a strange look that appears in your eyes
Which even begins to worry your own mirror
And nose.

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness
And call an important conference in a tall tree.
They decide which secret code to chant
To help your mind and soul.

Even angels fear that brand of madness
That arrays itself against the world
And throws sharp stones and spears into
The innocent
And into one's self.

O I know the way you can get
If you have not been drinking Love:

You might rip apart
Every sentence your friends and teachers say,
Looking for hidden clauses.

You might weigh every word on a scale
Like a dead fish.

You might pull out a ruler to measure
From every angle in your darkness
The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once
Trusted.

I know the way you can get
If you have not had a drink from Love's
Hands.

That is why all the Great Ones speak of
The vital need
To keep remembering God,
So you will come to know and see Him
As being so Playful
And Wanting,
Just Wanting to help.

That is why Hafiz says:
Bring your cup near me.
For all I care about
Is quenching your thirst for freedom!

All a Sane man can ever care about
Is giving Love!

~~~by Hafiz~~~

Ode To The Hatters!

Thou covetous wretches!
Beseeching wars and famine,
With outstretched palms of hypocrisy.
Sepulchers of infirmities!
Thine eyes betray your masks.
Don't you know?
The furies you've evoked
Shall be thine own eternal tempest!
Impassioned wrath swallows
The Lion's Dens from within!

Flaming Wrath, roooooaaaaarrrr!

The ancient Egyptians personified the wrath of the male king as a female figure. This was known as Sekhmet, the flaming goddess of justice with the face of a lioness (Assmann, 1991, p. 89).

Since the rulers were also obliged to reign with leniency as well as justly wrath, Sachmet had a softer sister, the cat goddess Bastet. This goddess was also a characteristic of the king pictured in female form.

Correspondingly, in Tibetan Buddhism the mild sister of the Palden Lhamo is the divine Tara.

Through the Lens.

Select Images of Saint Augustine, Florida.

Of Time & Of Mind.

Mind transforms the continuance of physical space-time into moments (the absolute Now) and blends these moments into an apparent continuity through an overlapping of unfolding capsules. The flow of psychological time is an illusion based on the rapid replacement of these capsules.

Each mind computes the measure of time passing and duration from the decay of the surface present in relation to a core of past events. As each new surface is generated, that surface, the rim of the immediate past, recedes in the wake of rising contents. This recession, an uncovering of phases latent in the original traversal, exposes layers in the past forming the content of the immediate past moment.

The surge of the microgeny to a surface that dissolves the instant it appears, the priority of the Self in the unfolding sequence, the feeling of agency, create a Self in a state of becoming, a Self that travels in time like the crest of a wave, always in pursuit of a future just beyond the grasp of the present.

Own Your Truth.

Truth, the Most High of the elemental, fundamental laws of humanity. Within the word 'TRUTH' there resides a multitude of sub-truths, each working individually, yet part of the whole, each seeking the LIGHT at the apex where truth sits.

Humanity through time has sought truth, what's hidden, what's yet to be uncovered. However, truth has always been right there before us, lying within our own very existence, awaiting the next UN-VE(I)LATION. Unveiling, layer underneath layer, each with its own conscious meaning. Each layer, each revelation, stripping away the false securities of the external, leaving us open and vulnerable to the vultures of our own thoughts.

Each revelation brings forth another truth, another unveiling of our own humanity. God is within us all. Divine essence doesn't exist outside ourselves. As within, so without. God is within.

Like the pyramid, truth sits at the apex. The apex of our very own existence.

Own your truth.