Personal Gnosis: Some Preliminary Thoughts

I’ve been using the word Gnostic a lot.

I should probably talk about it.

I first encountered the word “Gnosis” in Phil Hine’s Condensed Chaos. I met it again — a lot — in the various works of Peter J Carroll. Then I encountered it again, as “Gnostic” or “Gnosticism”, in Bart D Ehrman’s Lost Christianities. The last gave some context and meaning to the glib, 1990s pomposity of the first two.

Since then, it’s become something of a rabbit hole. Rune Soup. Aeon Byte. Ecstatic rituals, modern and ancient. Conspiracy theories.

“Gnosis” is generally understood to be Greek for “knowledge”. Touching base with the dictionaries at Perseus, it seems to be a little more than that: there is a strong implication of inquiry; Heraklitus used it to suggest cosmic knowledge; some sources indicate a sense of being known. “Gnosticism”, meanwhile, shares a key feature with the word “shamanism”: many scholars believe the word to be too broad, too modern, to be of use in discussing ancient sources. It is certainly a large and broad subject, too vast for me to discuss at bredth. But I do think it may be useful, both to my readers and myself, to talk a little about a few of the through lines and what they mean to me.

[A preliminary note: this is probably the first in what may be a very long series of posts. Due to its personal nature, it will not be as citation-heavy as later posts. When I start talking facts and theories, I’ll go back to Chicago Style for you. Today we’re talking about the broad strokes, emphasizing my feelings and UPG.]

Inquiry, Revelation, and Awakening

The mystic’s first task is to seek knowledge. No more, no less. Through research, experimentation, ecstasy, and art. Seek knowledge.

Having attained knowledge, having awakened to her truth, the mystic’s next task is to awaken the world around her. Not by sharing the truth she has found, per se, but by spurring others to seek out knowledge for themselves.

What “knowledge” constitutes Gnosis varies somewhat from tradition to tradition, even person to person. The broad implication always seems to be knowledge of the cosmos. Or, more narrowly, knowledge of the source of all things (“God”). The neo-Pagan term Unverified Personal Gnosis (UPG) seems overwhelmingly to refer to the needs, nature, and personality of the gods. From where I sit, Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel (KCHGA) would probably qualify, though I don’t know that most ceremonialists in pursuit of that Knowledge would consider themselves Gnostics. The Chaos Magick use of “Gnosis” to mean little more than “trance” seems, to me, to water the term down unnecessarily.

Divine Spark

When I first discovered the modern neo-Pagan movement in the mid 1990s, this was one of the ideas that drew me in. The notion that each person is born with a spark of the same divinity as possessed by the gods.

Ancient and more conventional versions of Gnosticism attribute this divine spark to an intercessory figure, often named Sophia, whose departure from the heaven / the true source / the alien God / whatever marks the beginning of the Gnostic narrative. There are too many variations to count or describe here, but the gist of it is that by accident, error, or mercy, the Sophia / savior figure brings the spark of divinity from heaven to earth and transmits it to humanity.

Many Gnosticisms reserve this divinity for humanity; animist visions perceive it in literally all things. For myself, I lean toward the animist vision.

In many versions, the Gnostic inquiry and awakening (see above) culminates in a visceral awareness of this divine spark. So awakened, and seeking to awaken those around her, the Gnostic seeks rites by which to return to Sophia and/or the alien divine source from which Sophia came.

Archonic Interference

There is something fundamentally wrong with the world. There are people and places, both mortal and cosmic, that clearly want nothing so much as they want everyone else to suffer. These corrupting, controlling forces are the archons, who seek to imprison all who bear the divine spark so that they might steal it for themselves.

The name “archon” also comes from Greek. The root, archo, means to be first; from that we have arche, which simultaneously means law and origin, and archon, which means ruler, lord, or king. Another common phrase in English is “Powers and Principalities”. The archons are cannonically cosmic tyrants; Gnosticisms which perceive allies among the forces of the cosmic forces refer to those powers as Aeons. In a perfect world, this would make all Gnostics Black Block anarchists; tragically, this is not the case.

In many forms of Gnosticism, the chief archon is the Demiurge: the mad god who either created our sick,sad world or who took the work of the true creator and perverted it into a prison. “Demiurge” is, of course, also from Greek: demiurgos, maker or craftsman. This monstrous divinity has many names; my favorites are Yaldabaoth and Sammael (they’re fun to say).

It is this aspect of Gnosticism which is often responsible for its reputation as world- and life-hating. Certainly those strains exist. But, that way lies nihilism, and I try very hard not to go there.

For myself, I do not see an inherent conflict between the notions that, on the one hand, life and the world are sacred; and that, on the other, there are parasitical and/or cancerous cosmic powers who wish to drain the joy out of everything. Just look at people. What is the cosmic reflection of earthly Status Quo Warriors? Of parasitic billionaires? Of murderous tyrants who claim divine favor and are not struck down by lightning?

As above, so below.

Live a Mythic Life

“Write your own Gospel, live your own myth.” This phrase comes not from ancient sources, as far as I can tell, but was coined by Miguel Conner of Aeon Byte: Gnostic Radio. It is, I believe, both his most radical and most useful thought associated with modern Gnosticism.

In the words of [look dude’s name up], “The awakening of any individual is a cosmic event.” Or, as Miguel Connor likes to say: The awakening of any individual is a cosmic rebellion.

If the gods who oversee the world are evil — and only the most toxically positive deny that at least some of them are — then to know goodness is to rebel against them. If the gods of this world wish us to live in ignorance, then to seek knowledge is to rebel against them.

There is a dark side, of course. The notion of a mythic life, a cosmic battle between an awakened elect and monstrous forces of control, seems to make Gnostics even more prone to paranoid delusions and asinine conspiracy theories than the rest of the New Age and neo-Pagan population. Frankly, I’m a queer historian: I know damn well how the rich and powerful have oppressed their subjects since the rise of agriculture; that doesn’t make the conspiracies that fascinate the pseudo-enlightened (chemtrails, hollow earth, reptilians, Bilderberg) any less farsical, particularly given how those same people point to feminists, queers, anti-racists, and anti-imperialists as divisive weapons and lapdogs of the Secret Chiefs. But I’ll dig into that, later, along with so many of the hanging threads above.

What’s important to me, personally, and to this introductory blog post is the mythic potential of life. Not every myth is heroic — we are not all (thank the gods) Theseus murdering the Minotaur, seducing and then abandoning Ariande. Some of us are the Roman citizen-soldier, whose only ambition is to go home and serve our families. Some of us are the Sybil, holed up in our divine caverns, hotboxing sacred fumes, spewing mad prophesy to those brave and desperate enough to listen. There are so many myths, and an infinite universe to fill with more.