Gnosticism - an introduction

In the first of four blogs Giles Oatley explains what Gnosticism is and how it began as a movement

Samael Aun Weor founded the Gnostic Movement in the 1950’s in South America, and wrote more than sixty books and gave hundreds of complementary lectures. Illustrative of the synthesis contained within these teachings we have the ‘Perfect Matrimony’, being the first book to publicly unveil the ‘mysteries of fire’ and the tantric knowledge of the authentic schools of mysteries.

"The Perfect Matrimony and the Cosmic Christ are the synthesis of all religions, schools, orders, sects, lodges, yoga systems, etc. It is truly unfortunate that so many who discovered the practical synthesis have left it, to fall into an intricate labyrinth of theories." (Perfect Matrimony)

The word Gnosis comes from the Greek language and means “knowledge”. The knowledge that is referred to here is not limited to intellectual knowledge; it indicates a specific type of knowledge that is experiential and that has a specific purpose: the complete development of the human being.

"I sustain that Nirvana can be won by us in a single reincarnation, properly taken advantage of. Samael Aun Weor has delivered you this course precisely for you to win Nirvana quickly and in a few years. I do not want henchmen nor followers, only imitators of my example." (Zodiacal Course)

Gnosis is the ancient and universal science which is present in every major religion. It is not limited to one specific culture, place, or time. The Gnostic Wisdom is found in Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism, Judaism, and so on. And as that universal wisdom or knowledge, it is the essential science required in order to achieve the ultimate aim of all real religions, which is the religare (Latin), or in other words, “union” with the divine.

Christ is viewed as the saviour yet not as traditionally understood by contemporary Christianity. Instead, Christ is an impersonal force or intelligence that emanates from the Absolute and is also referred to as the Cosmic Christ.

Christ is anterior to Jesus, and represented in other various traditions with names such as Ormuz, Ahura Mazda, Krishna, Osiris, Zeus, Jupiter, Quetzalcoatl, Okidanokh, Kulkulcan, Chrestos, Baldur, and Avalokitesvara. Christ enters into and exalts any individual who is properly prepared, which denotes the complete annihilation of the ego, the exhaustion of all karma and the birth of the solar vehicles, the latter which is necessary to handle the super high voltage of Christ. Samael Aun Weor writes that only those who choose the path of total sacrifice can incarnate the Christ. Likewise, any true Bodhisattva has incarnated the Christ or is in process of doing so. It is said that in history Christ has incarnated in Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Krishna, Moses, Padmasambhava, John the Baptist, Milarepa, Joan of Arc, Fu-Ji, as well as many forgotten by time.

The Gnostic Institute of Anthropology is a worldwide organization that exists to disseminate the teachings of the avatar Samael Aun Weor and to assist humanity with the awakening of the consciousness. The groups operate in the same way in every country, providing a wide range of free public activities and consisting of various levels of study at the institutes. Groups in the UK are currently located in London and the northeast of England.

Giles Oatley lectures in forensic statistics, data mining and decision support systems for crime detection and prevention. He has also worked in the care sector for several years with adults with challenging behaviour and severe learning difficulties. He chairs the Gnostic Institute of Anthropology.
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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood