There are two ways to read a sacred book.
One is with a clenched fist—tight with fear, dogma, and the need to control.
The other is with an open palm—soft with wonder, trust, and the hunger for truth.
For too long, much of humanity has read the Bible with fists clenched.
Taken literally, the Bible paints a grim portrait:
A jealous, wrathful God demanding obedience and sacrifice.
A world punished for its curiosity.
A divine script soaked in blood, plagues, conquest, and submission.
And for many, this has become the only lens—so they read, preach, and punish from it still.
But this was never the true way.
To take myth as instruction instead of inspiration is to lose the forest for the fire.
It is to trap the divine in the concrete, rather than letting it flow like living water.
Gnostic Insight:
Sophia—the divine wisdom—does not speak in threats.
She whispers in symbols, stories, and dreams.
To the Gnostic seeker, the Bible was never a history book or a legal code.
It was a mirror—reflecting our inner wars and our path to peace.
It was an invitation—to awaken from illusion and reclaim the spark within.
The jealous God of the Old Testament?
That is the Demiurge—the false god, born of ignorance, drunk on control.
He is not the Source, but a shadow of it—loud, demanding, fearful of rebellion.
And Jesus?
He comes not to prop up the Demiurge, but to reveal him.
He offers no temple made of stone.
He offers you—your body, your breath, your consciousness—as the holy place.
He doesn’t tell you to wait for heaven.
He tells you: build it. Become it. The kingdom is within.
Modern Reflection:
Literalism is not faith.
It is fear pretending to be devotion.
It’s easier to wait for a rapture than to fight for justice.
Easier to blame sinners than confront your own shadows.
Easier to quote scripture than to live it.
But we are not here to escape.
We are here to transform.
If we keep longing for death, we’ll keep building hell.
But if we walk the path of love, humility, courage—and yes, work—then we build heaven, one act at a time.
The Deeper Truth:
Jesus didn’t ask for worship.
He asked for imitation.
To follow Christ is not to bow to a throne in the clouds.
It is to rise, every day, and become like him.
To see through the illusion.
To heal the broken.
To awaken the sleeping.
To bring light into the cave.
🌿 Final Invitation:
What if the Bible wasn’t meant to be a rulebook for eternity…
…but a riddle for awakening?
Yes, the earliest texts were filled with laws—lists of clean and unclean, sacred and profane.
They served a people struggling to survive in a world of unknown dangers.
Without microscopes or germ theory, food laws were survival tools, not eternal decrees.
Don’t eat shellfish. Don’t mix fabrics. Rest every seventh day.
These were not cosmic commands—they were context.
But ask yourself this:
If an all-knowing, all-loving God gave these laws…
why didn’t that same God say, “Wash your hands”?
Why no simple instructions on boiling water, on healing herbs, on wound care?
How many lives might have been saved if even one verse said, “Clean hands save lives”?
And perhaps the answer is this:
The true Divine does not give us lists.
The true Divine gives us lessons.
Lessons we must grow into, question, and transcend.
Literal minds cling to the laws.
Awakened hearts seek the meaning behind them.
The Bible, then, may not be a divine decree etched in stone—
but a sacred mirror reflecting our evolution.
