Written by Sid Arthur Tamagua   

A RAMBLING RANT FOR THE END OF ALL THAT

Game over; down for the count; so long, farewell and amen; 30.
That’s the message for the male sky god and the culture that evolved out of his tradition. But I should begin at the beginning.

History is HIS story; HER story lies buried and unknown, amidst birds and serpents carved in stone. His story: a dream of magicians and warriors, tribal oaths sworn before bonfires. Covenant, temple, bloodline and creed; jump ahead a few millennia and you get contract, boardroom, title and deed. The hero of his story: a ravenous conjuror in his high retort, lusting after heaven’s fairest stars and the raptures of the Earth. His hungers have condemned him to perpetual rebirth. The moral of his story: take your greatest pleasure in power and in treasure; what leaps beyond all measure you can happily disdain; wisdom is heresy; peace is profane. But her story, too, will one day be told; out of ancient graven signs this prophecy unfold: ALL THAT IS COMING IS ALL THAT HAS BEEN. HIS STORY WILL END WHERE HERS WILL BEGIN.

Hey, some might say, where is God The Father in all this; the story sounds like he is deus absconditus? So he is; lost in doctrines honored more in the breach than in the observance; lost in lip service to a literalized Lord of Heaven who never comes to life beyond the letters of the law; lost in prayers never answered; lost in wars, conquests, enslavements, natural catastrophes never prevented; lost in the absurd gibberish of a priestly caste that never earns its authority through true enlightenment. None of this is fresh news;
the tomb of the human spirit called the Roman Catholic Church had lost much of its power and authority long before those nasty guys of the Age of Reason had discredited it.

The so-called Reformation did nothing to bring enlightenment to the human mind/heart; God gets angrier and meaner for most of the reformers, except for the chosen few who get rich by his grace...or so it is claimed. Reformation becomes deformation and a grotesque of mad superstition, leading to the death of innocent midwives and feminine herbalists. The Roman Church, not to be outdone, goes after so-called blasphemers, who get fired up in splendid conflagrations; the church more ossuary than sanctuary. The two Christianities, honoring their founder’s son, whose sermon on a mountaintop is endlessly quoted but generally betrayed, proceed to slaughter each other’s warring loyalists for a full century.

The 13th century sees the light of one, Wolfram Von Eschenbach, whose Grail Romance, called Parzival, tells the tale of a knight who eschews all creed and knightly code to follow the spontaneous impulse of compassion for a suffering king, thus releasing them both from the curse of socially enforced conventions and traditions, which tend to stifle an authentic spiritual life. In that same period, romantic love flowers among the troubadours, restoring some sense of the forgotten goddess tradition. It’s a case of Amor over Roma, personal experience over authority. Thus ensues a struggle between the individual and the social order that still goes on today.

Parzival, whose name can mean to “pierce the veil” of faux authority and the illusions it spawns, finds the grail to be not a cup, but a kopf, more precisely an enlightened mind that shines like the philosopher’s stone of the alchemists, which comes to symbolize the glowing mind and heart of the spiritually realized, made radiant in the light of the revelation of ultimate source consciousness. That lets the cat out of the bag for the androcratic authorities, who react violently to the notion of “tat vam asi,” meaning “thou art that,” the central insight of esoteric Hinduism, Buddhism, Gnostic Christianity, Sufism and ever other form of mysticism. What art thou?

Every one of us, every John and Jane, is a centering of source consciousness, the origin of all manifest existence. The problem for the authorities is that, if such a notion becomes known and widely accepted… and experienced, the authorities are no longer needed; they’re out of a job. What’s worse is that, if we all begin to see ourselves as real reflections of each other, fear, hatred and suspicion begin to evaporate, along with the idea of some folks being holier than thou and deserving of the lion’s share of the material goodies. So, what happens is that the idea that the cosmos is a kind of womb of consciousness, a mother to all things who is in all things, has to be trashed.

Out goes any restoration of the goddess, and God The Father, along with his divine and mundane command and control pyramids, is maintained, rigorously and ruthlessly. With fear, hatred and suspicion unrelieved, folks can be kept divided and conquered; and the usual suspects keep the great game rolling along to their endless benefit…or so they believe.

You can’t fool all of the people all of the time, a great man once said; and it is true, especially when the cost of maintaining lies, distortions and half-truths is so great. What’s more is that people never quite get rid of the feeling that they are more than groveling sinners or ignorant slobs or cannon fodder for the latest war. They get tired of listening to promises and prescriptions that won’t be kept or don’t work. Noble rhetoric may warm the heart and stir the blood, but if in the end it’s all so much mere straw, as a great saint once realized, then this is bad news for the androcrats, both religious and mundane varieties. Sooner or later, the bullshit is seen for what it is: bullshit.

What then? Well, the dissenters and disbelievers in androcacy begin to revolt against the conventional wisdom, which is not so much wisdom as it is wizardry of the Oz variety, meant to scare folks into submission or dazzle them with bullshit. They come out in big gatherings in cities and towns everywhere, saying they are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.

Do they have a strong sense of what they should replace the current unworkable system with? Maybe they do, and maybe they don’t; but they are together, listening to one another, hopefully learning from one another, hopefully breaking down whatever misconceptions and prejudices they may have about each other. In short, they may have or will have some sense of being a part of a larger consciousness that sustains them all. If so, they may find a way to forge a better world, a world based on the recognition that the nurturing and sustaining source of all life, human and non-human, is within all things. They may come home, at last, to the goddess and the sacred peace and beauty of her Earth.