Tag: Gnosis
Amongst the corridors of flesh and thought lives a hunger that surpasses reason and limit; the ancients named it the Divine spark, a thunder that splits the silence of mortal form. Tradition whispers that the seventh completes and the eighth ruptures; the septenary cycle of planets and powers closes its ring, only to open a…
“To the seven churches in Asia… and from the seven Spirits before His throne.” (Revelation 1) I. The Lampstands and the Veil of the Rose In the pale chamber of Revelation, the number seven emerges as the iron structure and subtle perfume of the entire vision. It rises as the geometry through which the Divine…
The altar is never without a tremor, never entirely silent; the one who keeps vigil soon discovers that, beneath the veneer of domestic order, lies a wilderness of ancient voices, children weeping in the dark, the echo of footfalls at the threshold where the known surrenders to the feral. Under the gaze of the lunar…
At the doorway of Assiah, beneath the weight of matter rendered Holy, stands the Ace of Pentacles: a radiant emblem whose secret name is Kether clothed in earth. Within the Tarot, this single coin of gold descends silently from a realm veiled by luminosity into a landscape deeply tangible, bearing within its silent descent the…
In the shadow of Caesarea Philippi, where the rocks whisper older hymns and the waters recall the memory of vanished gods, the Logos turns his face towards Jerusalem. His voice carries the gravity of revelation, and He speaks openly of wounds, death, and a rising whose secret is locked behind stone. Those who follow listen,…
When the soul stands at the border of the unsayable, certain presences arise, subtle and unyielding, weaving themselves through the marrow of the day. In the cloisters of ancient Egypt, between the sand and silence where speech dissolves and the heart sits waiting for visitation, the Fathers of the Desert charted out a region of…
In the dim chapel, upon marble that breathes the centuries, the script carves its wound: Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius. The phrase, lifted from the Gospel according to Luke, echoes as a living sigil. This is the sword that passes through the soul, the gladius announced to Mary by the lips of the aged Simeon.…
Every sacred text, placed beneath the trembling light of the lamp, becomes altar. Among the synoptic accounts, the Gospel of Luke offers more than a narrative of events. In it, the door stands in silence, the serpent coils within the question, the bread waits to be broken and offered. The writer moves as a physician…
Night leans over the garden; dawn delays behind a horizon of stone. Within the hush that veils the tomb, a figure pauses, unadorned by myth and yet unclaimed by history. Her hands carry myrrh, her eyes the ache of having seen what is forbidden to name. It is she whom the scriptures conceal and, yet,…
Certain thresholds exist only to be preserved. In the most solemn chambers of the Sacred, meaning gathers in the very act of withholding; presence folds itself behind silence, and the highest reverence is found in not transgressing the veil. Among the many images of the hidden Divine, few bear such weight as the scene near…
