How we lost the eternal stars
As reported elsewhere on this site, at length, the gods manifest as star-entities—it was reported by the Bedouin in ancient times that wise men became stars, the Christians held that the faithful became stars in the heavens, and pharaoh built his pyramid to turn himself into a star. These star-entities are related to the physical stars, but manifest into existence at various points on their own cognisance; and, as related, I have encountered them at Hartsfell and various other places.
So how did it come to pass—given that the star-entities are in, for example, Dante—that nobody knows about this situation and, indeed, call such entities, when encountered independently, “UFOs”? On the intellectual plane, it is due to the way Christianity was constructed and then fell apart—while on the spiritual plane it is due to a general slide into matter connected to the kali-yuga.
Christianity is not just the story of Jesus; it is not, as some neo-pagans put it, that Westerners “worship the Jewish God”—no; rather, Christianity includes the story of Jesus plus the intellectual worldviews of Plato, Ptolemy, and, above all, Aristotle. Indeed, the God of Aristotle is not very much like the God in the Old Testament at all—yet all these factors mixed together in the late Roman Empire to create the heady brew that is Christianity.
It’s why some traditional Catholics today will adamantly claim to be “rational” and that Christianity is “the religion of reason”—for the modern person, for whom “reason” means empirical science, this seems ridiculous; contemporary scientific thought is highly sceptical as regards, though in principle open to, the physical resurrection of the dead—and no scientific evidence that this has ever happened has ever been produced.
Hence for Christians to claim to be “reasonable” looks like delusion—but it’s just that they repeat the dogma; they have Aristotle on their side—he was a very reasonable and rational person; and, in a way, with his contributions to logic and metaphysics, he “invented” reason; and he was worked into Christianity—and so Christianity is “rational” and “reasonable”.
What happened was that the Christian Church endorsed a cosmology derived, roughly, from Ptolemy (plus contributions from Aristotle and Plato). Christianity claims to be the final truth; hence the Church’s pronouncements on astronomy were dogmas—it didn’t matter that, to an extent, they had just picked on a notable ancient astronomer, Ptolemy, and elevated him to the position of “irrefutable”. After all, what does any of this have to do with Jesus? (Really, what does “anything” Christians do have to do with Jesus—there are so many “extras” added on that it all becomes hazy after a certain point).
The Church’s cosmology conceived of us as encased in a celestial sphere—the courses of the planets and the stars never change, Earth was at the centre of the universe. Medieval people were not naïve about their situation—Maimonides (1138-1204) noted that Saturn is millions of miles away from us and the medievals generally used the vast scale of the universe to promote Christian self-abnegation, humbleness, and modesty. However, in this view the universe was bounded—we were on the next to lowest rung (below us only hell) and above us were multiple “heavens”, the flaming empyrean of light.
This model, as described, could easily accommodate my star-entities. It is often said that it was “man-centric” and that modern science “de-centred” man’s view that he was the most important thing in the universe (creation). That is only true if you assume religion is not true—if you think like Feuerbach that the gods are just childish projections of man’s own condition onto nature. If you think like that then, yes, man is at the centre of the universe in this model (enmeshed in his delusions)—and Copernicus and Darwin will humble him.
However, for the people who actually believed this was so it wasn’t like that at all—after all, from their position man was just above hell and multiple super-human entities towered over him; it was hardly “man-centric”, it was “God-centric” (which is why the atheists who say science “de-centred” man lie—they mean science de-centred God, but to even admit that opens the possibility there might be a God, so they veer away and misrepresent the medieval model).
The problem was that the Ptolemaic cosmological model was substantially not true—as Copernicus in particular demonstrated; and Galileo played a role too because the heavenly bodies were meant to be perfect and unblemished but he showed with his telescope that, for example, the moon is cratered. Due to the fact the cosmology was asserted as a dogma the new scientific worldview caused ructions—now familiar to us as the endlessly replayed “Galileo versus the Inquisition”.
Once the dogma was cracked the whole edifice fell down. That has really been the whole story of Christianity, as noted by Nietzsche: Christians claimed to posses the one truth and to hold the pursuit of truth to be important above all; eventually some people investigated the one truth—some of its cosmological dogmas, for example, and found these to be false.
This caused the entire religion to collapse in the end—the Christians had tolerated no one else, when it was discovered that huge acres of their dogma were false there was no alternative and most people assumed that atheism (or, at least, agnosticism) must be the truth, with “science”, actually a method, taken as a substitute for the old Church dogma everyone had grown used to.
Basically, the baby was thrown out with the bath water. You don’t need Ptolemy’s cosmology to access the eternal stars, you don’t need Plato’s conceptualisation of the truth, you don’t need Aristotle’s scientific investigations. These might intersect in places but they were not intrinsic to the eternal stars—they were really just scientific theories of the day, the star-entities preceded them and were accessed by people like the Magi long before them.
What Christianity did—partly due to its Platonism, partly due to its intolerant Semitic elements—was to take contemporary scientific theories and claim they were permanent absolute truths and that failure to believe in, say, Ptolemy’s astronomy would damn you to hell. It would be as if we took whatever research was underway at CERN today and declared a moratorium on it and then said that to contradict where the research was in March 2023 constituted a mortal sin that would damn you to hell.
When the rigid dogmatic Christian cosmology cracked, the whole lot went out the window. The change was so great, after centuries of static life where no real research was allowed, that the whole thing was washed away by a great flood. The reaction against the “one truth” was as violent in the opposite direction—it became laughable, people who accepted the old model in any degree thought “the sun goes round the earth”. They became risible.
With the rapid advance of modern science, the whole picture seemed ridiculous. However, as noted, the whole dogmatic picture is not intrinsic to our relations with the eternal stars—we don’t need to imagine that the universe is set in a sphere, with an empyrean, to contact them. Interestingly, Dante, who knew all about the star-entities, as recorded in The Divine Comedy, did not accept Platonism and deviates, in an esoteric way, from the Church’s cosmology.
When the great cosmological dam was breached, a whole system was washed away—the new science seemed superior in every way; and in the process the eternal stars were lost—and had, in fact, been already disprivileged because the Christians were leery to admit that there are many star gods out there (not just the faithful in heaven—a point that they very often did not fully explicate anyway, and I’m not sure they really understood). The result was a big uptick in atheism as we lost the eternal stars to the new worldview—yet they have always been there.