Shemyaza, Saint or Sinner
Devil and Fallen Angel. He has been described as Heaven's rebellious
outlaw, the ultimate abomination fallen from grace. These
are a few of the attributes bestowed upon a being whose true essence
has long been concealed, hidden by the mists of time.
But what is the basis of such a blind unquestioning belief in
the accuracy of the information with which we have been furnished?
Our primary sources are the keepers of established doctrine, who
feed us surface scum, and erect a smoke screen of godliness in
order to prevent us from entering into the complex depths that
conceal the central mystery.
They have informed us that we are disconnected from God; we are
brainwashed into believing that we are outcasts from the Garden
of Eden, and the majority accepts this tradition, which is further
promoted through the channels of philosophy, literature and art.
They have blessed and sanctioned the publication of vague, nebulous
accounts that portray the Fallen Angels as the Fathers of Hybrids
and the culmination of all the evils inherent in the world.
And yet, if we delve deeper, if we look behind the facts as they
are presented to us, intuition receives an alarming jolt. For
we find running through the drama of the Fallen Ones, a common
theme, a recurrent melody is detected, one which lies at the heart
of all doctrine: The union of above and below, the joining together
of man and God.
Those of us suffering from the effects of mass hallucination
will continue to see their emergence as a "fall from grace,"
but the fact remains that two forces, Earth nature and stellar
nature, merged and were connected, one to the other.
In Storm Constantine's Grigori trilogy, Shemyaza is seen as an
Archangelic force, a higher entity, moved by a need to express
love in a manifestly visible fashion. He does this by blending
his essence with that of a woman from a different order, a daughter
of Earth. Surely this is indicative of the union of the Bride
and Bridegroom we see in all theological and esoteric literature,
the endeavor to unite what appears to be two irreconcilable elements
into a state of unification.
One might ask oneself as to how it could be possible for a creature
such as Azazel, depicted as the degradation of all things good
and true, to contain within himself the sacred characteristic
of love, love being the highest quality in both God and Man.
Discrepancies arise everywhere for those with eyes to see them.
The powers seated behind the mechanisms of orthodox religion throw
a great amount of light upon certain qualities they wish to convey,
yet appear to be strangely removed, disconnected from those principles,
so long ago voiced by a simple carpenter's son. They have amassed
great fortune and power, provoked war in the name of peace and
have constructed an effective barrier, thus preventing man from
having a simple and direct communion with the source of all things.
Are we then to take as Gospel an account of ancient events, vividly
coloured with the shades of world-controlling temperaments and
presented to us as fact by characters of dubious motive. I think
not. The true Temple lies in waste amidst over 2,000 years of
architectural layerings, centuries of ill fitting stones, set
one upon the other, cunningly disguising the original foundations.
From Genesis to Revelation, we are constantly reminded
of the bestial traits pertaining to the human condition. We are
forced to acknowledge Man's brutalities, one to the other, sister
to sister, brother to brother. Yet always present are the mediating
angels, seeking to inspire and provide a solution for our dilemma.
Man is a problem in duality. His outer form can be colourful,
personalised and distinctive, but his inner world is shadowy,
volcanic and concealed, straining at the seams with all it contains.
The Pandora's Box of legend, was, at least on the surface, a
perfectly innocent looking artifact, and yet touch a raw nerve,
open the box, and a nuclear explosion that defies all proportion
is quite likely to explode in your face.
In most of us, the survival instinct, the primary instinct, asserts
itself at the slightest provocation. Man is eminently warlike,
the desire of dominion is as strong today as it was in ancient
times, even though it is camouflaged by a veil of civilised conduct.
Fear, jealousy, power, all these are mundane qualities that indicate
an earth-bound focus that has little or no faith in the existence
of another mode of being. Even the most gentle, composed souls
among us are capable of displays of extreme behaviour; overwhelming
desires and passions upset the equilibrium and tip us head first
into Hell's flames.
To escape the condition of infinite ignorance we should lay down
the burden of guilt and embrace our imperfections, understand
who we are by delving beneath the surface of things; we should
meet our complexes and inhibitions head on and bring them up to
the surface where they can be "seen." Perhaps, when
this is accomplished, we will find ourselves no longer in need
of a "scapegoat."
Sin is that which lies crouched and hidden, dwelling in the darkest
of places, and is the prime inciter of uncontrolled thought patterns
and the blatant injustices that hurt others.
torturous cross, so prominently situated in our churches and cathedrals,
to my mind, is an ornamentation that strikes fear in the sturdiest
of hearts. It speaks loudly of horror and violence.
In ancient times the sun was worshipped as the source of all
life; early man recognised its properties, his vision saw power
in its rising. The moon was revered as mistress of magic, queen
of the tides. Early Man discerned and acknowledged life's rhythms.
But Sophisticated Man, said to be a more evolved model than his
ancient brother, pays homage to humanity's lack of vision and
to its cruelties, by idolizing a saviour nailed to a cross. His
sacrificial death well remembered, but his mission eclipsed by
an atmosphere of injustice and barbarity instigated by a towering
In truth the cross is indicative of the cross of the elements,
a symbol of manifested life. And Christ's form upon it represents
Divinity incarnating in flesh, so that he could know man, not
as an idealism, but by a sound sense of brotherhood and in the
fellowship of his species.
I fail to see how the majority of Christians will enter into
the Paradise of the scriptures. "The Kingdom of God is within
you," it is written. What is not realised here, is that an
Avatar's inner condition is vastly different from that of Humanity's.
The essence of one such as Christ, exists is a far superior state
that our own. A being composed of harmony and light could hardly
fail to find his Eden; but for the masses the storm continues.
Man sees imperfection all around him -- in others, in himself
and in his systems of belief. He can secure no lasting vision
of beauty in a world where fortunes and misfortunes continually
alternate. When one is faced with an immediate disaster, how can
one not fail to lose sight of the perfect picture. And so one
returns to the source with a soul that has known moments of glory
and has become ladened with experienced tragedies and despairs.
If one has never existed in a state of sheer harmony, how can
one enter into its condition?
her novel, Scenting Hallowed Blood, Storm hits on this
subject in depth. In chapter 28 we find Shemyaza facing the ultimate
test, that of coming face to face with the diversities inherent
in his own nature. As the negative aspects of each sphere rise
up before him, he momentarily becomes the vice of that sphere,
yet failing to set and crystallize in his essential self, they
pass quickly through him and out of him.
He finds himself in an abyss of nothingness holding on to a thin
shred of will, and when the voice of Sofia whispers to him through
the void, the words, "Ultimately, this is all there is, Azazel,"
had he not resisted the compulsion to agree with her, his consciousness
would have been lost in the cosmic soup, his own true vision dissipated.
However, retaining selfhood he replies, "No, this is an illusion
of returning to the source, from within yourself. It is not the
limitless light, but a reflection of its opposite. In the abyss,
the source can be whatever you want it to be."
How perfectly she presents the problem of transferring consciousness
into that of the subtle, eternal body, in order to ensure continuation
We see ourselves through the mirror of other people's reactions.
We respond to affection reflected in the glass and rebel when
indifference or dislike is seen therein. By reacting to another's
anger, we become sucked into their atmosphere. Only when we are
no longer moved by another's sudden onslaught can our own inner
light become nourisher and sole sustainer.
The use of forced serenity is as useless as an ashtray on a motorbike;
it will not suffice. Only true calmness in the face of chaos will
be effective. Imagine yourself attempting to still the crashing,
turbulent waves upon the sea with your bare hands in order to
subdue it into calmness. The task itself would introduce more
tension, more pressure, as intense, physical action would be required.
Violence set against violence in order to procure stillness? Serentiy
is birthed slowly, acquired through the right use of the imaginative
faculties and through silent contemplation.
My sole purpose for the writing of this article, is to encourage
others to read and re-read Storm Constantine's books, for her
writings are packed with esoteric wisdom. I myself have been stirred,
lifted by them, and it is my sincere wish that a large number
of others will be too.
The Grigori trilogy, based upon the Fallen Angels, are particularly
enlightening. Although these works are regarded as fiction, those
of you with acute perception will find within the pages one writer's
quest for truth and perfection, through the Archetypal energies
that stirred her most. And through the alchemy of interaction
with these forces, she has succeeded in an expansion of soul.
To conclude then. Shemyaza/Azazel is a scapegoat, an external
leper, distanced from ourselves, and onto whom we have cast all
our internal imperfections; all things dark and distorted, which
we are ashamed to call our own.
One can paint a picture of him as a saint, or one can seat him
on the throne of Hell and Damnation; But the true source of his
being will forever be a reflection of what one takes to him.
About the Author:
Pixi lives in the U.K. You can email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.