Mythological continuity

Anthropologists and religious historians estimate that in the last 150,000 years, since Neanderthal times, there have been at least 100,000 distinctly different religious traditions. Religions do not just pop into existence. They are a spin off from preceding cultures and they borrow, steal and plagiarize from the preceding culture and reuse the material to suit their own purposes. For instance, scholars know today that the Old Testament names of the Hebrew patriarchs had been around for 1000 years prior to Hebrew Old Testament times. Scholars know today that nothing in the Gospels is historical or biographical but is legend and folklore and a perfect example of mythological diffusion or mythological continuity. None of the writers of the Gospels knew Jesus personally. No biblical scholar in any major university would deny this.

As Carl Jung writes: “the Osiris myth was clearly superseded by the Christ myth. This is one of the finest examples of mythological continuity.” The Osiris myth, in the beautiful trinity of Isis and Horus, lasted for 4500 years in Egypt. Even 500 years after the death of Jesus, Christians used to worship in Alexandria before statues of the virgin mother Isis suckling her divine child in a stable.

One good example: the genealogical table of Christ in the book of Matthew (1:1-17) consists of 3 X 14 names. The greatest festival in Egypt was the Heb-Sed celebration to reaffirm the Pharaoh as God’s son. In the processional, statues of 14 of the Pharaoh’s ancestors were carried before him. There had to be 14. Celebrated every 3 years, it had to be 3 X 14, or exactly the same mythological formula found in the book of Matthew, the genealogy of Jesus. Read more

The obscene Crazy Horse monument

The most obscene insult to Crazy Horse, sculpted in stone on stolen Indian land, is the so called “monument” carved into the Black Hills. The Crazy Horse image is still sacred to the Sioux. The Sioux nation finds this tourist attraction the ultimate offense.

The Black Hills, Paha Sapa, “the heart of everything that is” was their sacred center, the most holy place of the Sioux nation. To blast out these hills, said the holy man Fools Crow, “is like us going into your St. John the Divine or the National Cathedral and carving up the walls and breaking the stained glass windows.” As holy man John Lame Deer put it: “good art is not made with a jackhammer. Anything in such disharmony with nature is evil. It fits into the sacred mountains like a red hot iron poked in someone’s eyes.”

It is the monumental ego of a sculptor inflated with a lust for fame. The Indians do not get one dime from the tourist money. This is a monument, once again, to the white man’s arrogance, the same ignorance that destroyed Crazy Horse and raped the Black Hills for gold.

Crazy Horse, “Tashunka Witco” in Lakota Sioux. The most accurate translation of his name would be “the enchanted one” or “the one who was mysterious.” The old ones of the Sioux and Cheyenne nations described him in detail in the late 1800s and what he was like as a person. They said that when he was riding into a village, there would be a ground swell, racing from tongue to tongue, saying “the man is coming.” Read more

Love song to Sedona

My wife and I have just returned from our annual September pilgrimage to Sedona, Arizona and Oak Creek Canyon.

We go back a long way, Sedona and I. In the 1940s there were two Marine Corps Air Stations, El Toro, California and Cherry Point, North Carolina. As a Marine Corps pilot I was often moved from one to the other. It was always an interesting drive across country. We camped along the way and our favorite place was Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon. In the 1940s the roads there were all dirt. The town was several gas stations and a few bars. My son who was then 5 years old caught his first fish in Oak Creek Canyon. It is still one of my favorite photos. Today he is over 60 years old. So you see, Sedona and I go back a long, long way. To return there year after year has always been for me a spiritual reunion. When I combine the memories… the magnificent beauty of the place… the spiritual energy… the mystical combination of light and shadow and red rocks… with time and the river flowing… my heart is warm and my soul responds.

There is no camping anymore. We avoid the noise and crowding of the resorts. Years ago we discovered the treasure of the Briar Patch Inn, an Oak Creek Canyon paradise. About 5 or 6 miles north of Sedona on Highway 98A. It is 9 acres along the banks of Oak Creek with private cabins and cottages. No telephones. Some of the most majestic sycamore and cottonwood trees I have ever seen drape over the land in their protective love. Yes…trees do love and I, being an old tree hugger, should know. Every morning, while eating a delicious breakfast on the spacious lawn by the river you can listen to LIVE classical music by a trio of talented musicians.

I must tell you about one of most synchronistic events of my entire lifetime. It is so far beyond the laws of probability it is just off the chart. That is what “synchronistic” means, as defined. “Pink Jeep Tours” are perhaps the most well known of the tours that take you all over the area and into the back country. Several years ago my wife, Jerry, and I decided to take one. We had never done that and so we made a reservation. When we arrived at our appointed time, the manager said to us…”all the jeeps are full…there is no more room in them…but we do have one jeep and one driver here available and I will get her to drive you around…just the two of you.” We said…”wonderful…a private jeep and driver.” The driver was an attractive young lady about 21 or 22 and very articulate. As we drove around I leaned up and noticed a book on the other seat in front. The title was “SPIRIT DANCE….Essays by William Edelen.” It was well used. I said to her “how do you like that book?” She said…”it is just excellent. I have learned more from that one little book than any book I have read…” I waited a minute or so…and said to her…”I wrote that book…I am William Edelen.” She was staggered…and said to me…”we are never given the names of our passengers…are you serious…really?” I started quoting from the book to her. She was overwhelmed, literally. She would have driven us all over the state of Arizona if we had wanted that. As it was she extended our trip about four times longer than it was scheduled for. That easily ranks as one of the most synchronistic events of my entire lifetime. Beyond explanation. Read more

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