Temple Riot

An Offering of Evangelical Gnosis by Chrètian Frère

Chrétien Frère

A God of Exceptions

The Lord is a God of exceptions, exemptions. He is served by Mercury, who also releases from the bondage of debt, as if foreshadowing Christs later fellowship with the thieves in Crucifixion. Scriptures reveal that inspiration breaks laws set by inspiration. That the Lord’s ways have sense, have heart. But as the Lord has let us become seedlings, pilgrims tested and expanded by the trial of tears, he has vowed to stand back, to honor his gift, to let us flounder in our own causality.

But he is not a stickler for the rules, in fact His interest is in our Karma, the Tally of delusions we must live out, the bends, knots, rifts, colonizations or traumas of the soul, the unforgiven.

The Lord in His Heroic personage was not content to watch the slow process of karma unfold, and bonded with us in death, and restores the balance of the worlds through us, through his Siblinghood of Saints, the angelic heirarchies and friends without flesh.

He’s doing that unexpected thing, that magical thing, that secret quaff, that unexpected friend, that wonder of being. He’s turning lead into God, toil into forgiveness, war into peace, famine into plenty, and death into life. He’s bringing the spirit into things, the mojo. He puts the pop in your walk, the smile in your slide. “My Yoke is gentle” he says.

The one who makes you ashamed and fall to sin, that is not the Lord, but one of the pseudolords. There is no real ruler of the pseudo lords, no real Satan. Satan’s head is a squabble, a polycacaphony.

“The law is made for anthropol, not antropos for the law” H

The Lord’s Wager

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Adam is the consciousness that expresses itself as all humankind. Adam once did not have gender. Adam once did not have confusion and knew itself to be both individuals and one at the same time. Adam was split into genders at creation time. Adam became Adam and Eve. Masculine and Feminine consciousness stopped being integrated, and we fell into incarnation and meat eating. Eating and dying and growing and reaping.

We are all Adam, and Eve represents a part of ourselves that we have lost connection with, a part that has strayed. She is Psyche, the soul. She is our dreaming, our imagination, and our connection to the astral world and the lower spirit worlds. While these are not the safest places to be – or to even think about for that matter, as ones of the Way, we must face off the serpents on the desert road. This plane is a test, a trial, and, in a sense, a wager between the Lord, and the Adversary. The Lords, money is on you. And guess what? the lord always wins.

Once you have learned from the Centaur and the Angel, you will square off against those who would lead your soul astray, and always, they come from inside your circle, inside your family, and inside your head.

Those who are not allied and tethered to the Redeemers Light are all secondary users of their body-brains. At any moment, a harassing demon can tap their network and ssh into their substem and drive the body-car, move its lips, access its memory files. These demons are insect-like vapor machines that exist parallel to and intersecting in some places the world you see. And where they intersect is through minds. As Alan Moore points out, the mind is not a private sphere. Once you recognize that, I can tell you, it’s a load off your shoulders. Asylums are full of folks suffering from what is called in the Middle East ‘waswas’ or waswasa’, the whispering entities.

Those who build the armor of spirit will be resilient against these hoards. They are dumb blind machines, in a one sense, but in another they are too intelligent to believe, as they are capable of long ranging and subtle strategies. C.S. Lewis was not exaggerating about the devils thoroughness. It is indeed that nuanced.

The moment you move quickly towards the Lord. Nearby drones on the devil’s network will call you up out of the blue, ask you out for a drink, and will somehow know just the thing to unset your steely brow, to furrow it with doubt, to set you spinning in a tide pool. Alcoholics are the easiest for these car thieves to drive. As well as rageaholics and guiltaholics. Keep an eye out. You’ll see them come.

But the Lord put his wager on you because his hawk like eyes miss no detail. He is the Hero of Heroes and like Batman he never loses. Order wins, by only the amount it takes to barely win. He has Faith in you. If you have Faith in Him, you will be able to hear the thundering silence of his Word, beneath the chatter of the whisperers and gossips, as they fade, and it rises like a monolithic chord struck by the mountain and the sea.

The Lord’s wager is that we will reunite, both inside ourselves, our masculine and feminine natures, our bestial and angelic aspects, and also without, with our Star Siblings, all beings who are born in the bright bellies of stars as we are, that we will re-member, reintegrate the disparate selves and strata of Being that the Greater Human is, of which the ego is a tiny part, and even it is composed of many magnitudes of components, and join the heavenly River of Saints, which is the Love poured out by your Siblings everywhere, and from all times and spaces. It is a healing sea mist from the great Sea of Agape, and it is always available to you, and for you to give as a gift.

The Lord Is Your True Father and Family

The parent of your body is your mother, but the parent of your spirit is the Lord. The Lord is the Great Spirit Father of All Spirits. He is Infinity, but infinity is a lot more than you think it is… for one, it is more than single natured, and its various natures play out in various pageants that array like the baroque lines of a Mandelbrot. This makes his nature generational and in its infinite regress, genetic.

When you are at your most resilient, golden, glossy, spiritful and clear-seeing, that is the golden higher mentation that the ancients correlated with the Sun, recalling this gives you a hint of what it is you received from the Lord. Christ the Son appeared in the Sun before he appeared as the Son of Man. This heightened consciousness, the sense of the epic (captured in such a remarkable way by Wallace Stevens, and others).

A clear impervious orb-like, hawk minded consciousness, the mind that scans across a lake alive with fish and foul on a summer day, the mind of sun, the feeling that bob Dylan chased and often evoked, a gold and glorious fecund and faithful mind – that is the bright and glorious node of God Mind that God has shared with you, the glory of the Secret Sun, but that is only the most audible note of a great series of inflows or resonances that the Great Spirit has yielded. Yes, there is a part of you that is God, the Sharer, but it is incorrect to think “I am God”, because the speaking verbal I is an artifice that covers the Inward Sharing God. God’s breathing is the ground of your own.

Are you asking but isn’t God just the emergent superconsciousness arising from the quantum networked humans, planets, and stars? Wrong, this is a finely tuned universe. This is no accident. This is an intentional universe, a universe born to live, to be, to love, to create. There are beings who exist at the nodes of these systems, the stars, the galaxies, and other smaller and larger systems. But the greatest of these systems are not the Lord.

The Lord is, in a sense, a Continuum of Lords. He has created and been born of Himself. He in a consciousness that runs through a divine series of beings, His being runs through smaller beings, through the angelic hierarchies. He is an army of patience, healing and music.

Kicking Against The Pricks

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And he said, Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest: it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

What sort of molecule machine emits a vapor that produces a sense of consistent memory? What sort of biochemical effluvium enlivened with electricity postulates a subject, plays the blues, weeps for the fallen? What tree has a fruit that is a living agency freely selecting? Where is the ground of consciousness – if not a ‘ground of consciousness’?

What if I-ness and You-ness come into being together, in a region beyond time, in a helical winding, and this great waterfall out of the void is the mind of God, who’s searching of the vectors of possibility are particulate searches that manifest as Lucretus’ swerving particles in a rain. And from this creation torrent, this geyser out of night, a great tree of organization styles gives birth to series of species. If you have never been out of yourself then maybe this sounds impossible. But I bet there are moments when you knew it – the fountains of creation are something that children can see.

Like Spinoza says and Einstein agrees God is the prime Substance, there can be nothing that is not Substance, naught that is not part of the Substance, the Substance all beings are reflected in, rooted in. God sings Being like the Tonic note of His profound understanding, the vast and cavernous lacuna of all possibility, the full void somethingness, whence the universe spills forth like a mouth, while Creative Agencies and Angels and infinite beings form in overtone sequences over the God Mind bass tone of aeonic breath.

God and Being are what is. The atheist, and his monkey the marxist, opposed to What IS, prickly at their parents and probably envious of their peers hates the idea of an impersonal Mind that can see them as they see themselves when they arent pretending themselves. The atheist is sick and wounded by the apparition of his suppressed knowledge of his mind’s contingency on Mind, or Nous. He suffers the return of the repressed. God comes back like a zombi. Religion torments them. Faith and optimism torment them. Love and friendship sickens them on a gut level. Unless they are allowed to spew opinions like a sprinkler, tic tic tic.

The atheist scuffs and bristles against the notion of an accounting, a register of their pride and pettiness. They know how silly they really are and hate that all deeds are written in the mind of God. That all the things nobody noticed someone did. That all thoughts are written on the soul for many aeons. The atheist slips and slides through life afraid to let eyes land upon the outlines of their evasion. Which evasion you say? The evasion of Purpose. And it proposes the idea that there actually is a distinction between that which you were created most apt for, and that which can satisfy you most. That in order to do you you must deny God. This is called the Luciferian Parallax. Its a perceived drift between your nature or destiny and your identity and selfhood. Between what the Lord has fitted you for, and what you see fit to do. In modernity, this often manifests as the fashionable dandyism of aimless rejection. A kind of blind, wanton, limp rejection that is almost a mere gesture. A faux cicada shell of rebellion, for this smug chinyness is actually the tainted stain of colonization. A colonization of Mammon, and what Lacan calls the Symbolic Order, the conglomerate of Worldly Powers. It is a hatred of the nature of things that manifests as Luciferian aestheticism, the cult of the self. An endless chase that leads back to where it began, but lower, more insect, this is an octave closer to the bottom of the endless loop of lust that is chasing “myself”.

This activity of the Luciferian, the aesthete of the self, who unites an ethical fundamental to the slipping ego, the ego who is always chasing its own allegiance. Always Judas to Judas to Judas. The ego is an endless coil of Judas. A transactionalism infolding, imploding. This is what is called the Kicking Against The Pricks. This is the grudge against the sky, this is the anxiety of influence. This is the denial of the Universal, the Tao, the Order. It is the denial that character is destiny. Lucifer is the endless idea of youth, and of endless youth, and the unintentionally vampiric.

The wound the atheist carries is the butthurtness of embarrassment, of being exposed in his dog and panty show, been seen. The pain he feels is the disintegration of the cast (caste) that keeps him twisted comfortably in his illusion of ontological primacy. The atheist doesn’t so much imagine a world without God, so much as go around with a sweater pull up over their heads where they hide from seeing theirself. For this is what it is to let fall the backdrop that is academic neoliberal materialism. The experience that Being is ‘looking through ones head’ exposes the simpering tired squid of the ego to itself. It is the sudden witnessing of the ontological dependency of one’s mind. It is realizing that your ‘self’ is just like a scale on a dragon’s back, not an essential part, not the center nor even a main organ or eye. The realization of ones frivolity. Here is the confrontation with it in Psalm 39

My heart was hot within me,
While I was musing the fire burned;
Then I spoke with my tongue:
“Lord, make me to know my end
And what is the extent of my days;
Let me know how transient I am.
“Behold, You have made my days as handbreadths,
And my lifetime as nothing in Your sight;
Surely every man at his best is a mere breath. Selah.

The struggles of the Psalmist are not just emotional notes, the songs disclose the shapes and outlines of a real untwisting, an ontological process in fact, whereby the soul withdraws from the satanic entanglement into the virtual. Satan’s worlds are always virtual ones, they lead into semantic systems such as ideologies, or into ‘games’ like politics (surrogate or performed wars), or into fetishes. It is going into a world within a world, and investing ones being, ones ‘outer’ soul into this virtuality. It is like you are a genie who is coaxed into a bottle. And there you live, inside your virtuality.

But if the Lord thinks you are worth it, he may, he very well may crack your bottle open one day. Sadly however, instead of flying out like a genie, you will be simpering, wiggling out like a wet noodle who just got ripped out of the jelly cocoon in the matrix. When the Lord comes with down his asteroid hammer of lightening, he comes in His Third Person. He comes through the office of a mighty Angel. This is the Tower of Babel struck down. This Tower of Ego which is built into and around a trellis of propaganda and fiction, that is the comforting gift of Mammon to his tasty human cattle.

This is a gargantuan trellis that is always collapsing under its weight and magnitude, where humanity is crushed in its rifts and folds like blue berries. But here is where the smug have learned to scuttle like crabs to the top of the trellis, where they work to become the “experts” who so nobly explain for the TV audience how laughable it is outside this collapsing trellis of Self, how pathetic the thoughts of those who don’t swallow the pills that lead you to aspire to the top of the crabs on the collapsing trellis of Babel. There they are, laughing at us, on their sky scraping ship of fools. They laugh at us, because we are not twisted into the casts they wear, because we have not agreed the all the talking crabs. They laugh with strained grimaces though, and you can see this anytime you talk to an atheist, a nervousness crackles through their tight teeth. And you point to that space in the back of their mind where a shutter appears. And just as they are pontificating, a crack of light busts through, and who do you suppose is peaking through?

The Lord Is Substance Per Se

Why is the Lord called the Rock time and again in the Judeo-Christian tradition? Contrary to what many believe, it is not because you can count on Him to always be there for you. Because He has given you free will, and because he has destined you to become a Warrior Angel, he cannot be there for you if you by your free will go with the demons. The demons give you a special bargain, cut ties with and knowledge of your Father, and they will tickle your fancy until it can’t stop cry-laughing. Basically the Lord, lets you dance in a fairy ring if you want to, for as many eons and incarnations as you want to. Because He is looking for those heroes who in free will and mighty empathy cast off the designer chains of the devils, to rise up, wake from the life of ego-dreams and take of the gospel fight, which is to gently wake and remind every soul who they really are. Wake up my friends.

Eons long has been your dream of separateness. Long has your node of godhood ridden in these cars of simulation, these math-bodies of geometry made flesh. Your soul may feel like a island, but when you learn to ‘unsee your blindness’ you will ‘see’ and feel and know. That beneath the island of your soul in a great rock of Being, indestructible because it is being itself. It is extended from the Parent to you.

Satan convinces you to build a false construct out of sand, built on impressions, media, symbols, anthems, ideologies and secrets. Its as if you made a sandcastle at the shore and spent all your time there constantly rebuilding it, seeing it as your only possibility or real self. But all that stuff you built up this surrogate, replacement “me, myself” is just garbage that has not intrinsic value or meaning, but it doesn’t value — it is without discrimination. Discrimination is called the first gift of the Spirit because it is the seeing of Being. It is the real and raw sensing of spiritual integrity vs spiritual bankruptcy.

The Lord however, is so real, so imminent, the only tonic note. The drone or OM of all Being. He is like a drone so solid, so resounding, He is like a single infinite stone in a sky of ash, a stone that once touched, once witnessed, recreates the earth, infuses the earth with Being, with Genesis. To sense the Lord and know Him as he is in his three Majesties, is indeed to experience the river out of Paradise.

Paradise is not something that the Lord has withheld from us, it is something he has allowed us to stray from, so that we may truly know it.