The Changing Face of God

]This essay has been distilled from material in several of my books, chiefly Signs of the Times and When the Stars Align.]

There is an astrological doctrine known as the Great Ages which proposes that world history is characterized by twelve long “chapters,” each lasting roughly 2100 years long and each of which is associated with one of the twelve signs of the zodiac. This centers around a celestial phenomenon known as precession of the equinoxes, which is when the VP, or vernal point (the first moment of Spring), moves backward through the various constellations at the rate of roughly a degree every 72 years. In turn, a considerable body of astrologers interpret this movement over time in terms of the archetypal symbolism associated with these varied constellations.^.According to this viewpoint, we now find ourselves at the threshold between the passing Piscean Age and the emerging Aquarian Age. Fortunately, one doesn’t doesn’t even need to believe in the validity of this doctrine to think its symbolism accurately describes the changes we see taking place across the world right now.

Among other things, the emergence of a new Great Age is believed to coincide with a shift in the spiritual and religious sensibilities of humanity, and which naturally reflects itself not only in the mythological themes of the time but in the very concept of God itself. To put it in very simple terms, for instance, the Age of Aries saw the rise of religions like Judaism which described a God of wrath and anger, while in the Piscean Age, traditions like Christianity and Buddhism introduced more compassionate) elements into the religio-mythic landscape. Like I said, that’s a very simple description, but for our purposes a useful one.

So, how will the incoming Aquarian mythos shape our religious and spiritual perspectives?

On one level, it’s good to remember that Aquarius is, more than any other zodiacal sign, the one most associated with humanity, suggesting that this emerging era might well be called the “Anthropocene Age.” At its most extreme, that could mean humanity won’t simply dominate other life forms on the planet but could even eclipse “God” entirely, as it moves to elevate its own role in the cosmic order.

But I think there are much subtler levels than that.

A more mystical interpretation would be that this humanizing of the Divine has more to do with a recognition of the Divine within each person, and that it isn’t simply located in some remote, far-off region, as has been the belief for so many throughout much of our history. We aren’t simply God’s children, in other words, but more akin to God’s brothers and sisters.

In my book An Infinity of Gods, I discussed how the mystic/yogi Shelly Trimmer proposed what I regard as a very Aquarian theology in which the being we call “God” is actually one of an infinite number of godlike beings—ourselves included—albeit one that is vastly more evolved than us. (I’m simplifying a more complex set of ideas here, needless to say; for those wanting a more nuanced view I recommend the aforementioned book.) Whether you personally subscribe to that model or not, it certainly would represent the ultimate democratization or decentralization of divinity, where every person is seen as a true God in his or her own right.

Clues from Popular Mythology

Alien as that idea may initially seem to some, it’s actually already deeply embedded in the popular mythologies of our time, and in turn, our psyches. I’m referring here to L. Frank Baum’s famed story The Wizard of Oz.

This much beloved tale features a classic “heroic” quest, with Dorothy and her companions setting out to find the answers to their pressing life-queries. One wants a heart; another a brain; another hopes to find courage; while Dorothy just wants to get home. They all travel together to the fabled city of Oz in the hope that the great and powerful Wizard might grant them these things.

Yet when they finally confront him, what they find instead is that the Wizard turns out to be an ordinary person rather than an all-powerful being. They also learn that what they had sought all along actually resides much closer to home; as the Good Witch says, “The answer to your journey has always been within you!”

Symbolically, that’s saying that in our own spiritual journey, the external “wizard” (i.e., the God symbol) must be set aside in order to awaken the God within. This doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t any actual divinity, of course, simply that we must rethink our approach to that reality. Said another way, our spirituality must be rooted in a personal experience that looks within for “salvation,” rather than from without. We are not the servants of God, but co-creators with God—a seismic shift from what some astrologers would describe as transitioning from Piscean dependency to Aquarian autonomy.

Psychologist Carl Jung referred to this process as the “Christification of many.” In Masks of God, Volume 4, Joseph Campbell described it this way:

“Just as in the past each civilization was the vehicle of its own mythology, so in this modern world...each individual is the center of a mythology of his own, of which his own intelligible character is the Incarnate God, so to say, whom his empirically questing consciousness is to find. The aphorism of Delphi, “Know thyself,” is the motto. And not Rome, not Mecca, not Jerusalem, Sinai, or Benares, but each and every “thou” on earth is the center of this world...”. (emphasis mine) [1]

It’s natural to ask whether Baum himself may have intended any of the more esoteric implications of his seeming child's tale. To my mind, it’s hardly a stretch to suggest that he may have, since Baum had been a member of the Theosophical Society since 1892, and even wrote publicly about theosophical concepts for a South Dakota newspaper, the Aberdeen Saturday Pioneer. [2] Among the central tenets of Theosophy is the belief that Divinity resides within, rather than in any external form or intermediary. As Theosophical founder Madame Blavatsky once put it, the essence of spiritual esotericism can be summed up as the concept that “the personal God exists within, nowhere outside, the worshipper.”

Religion in the Key of Jazz

But The Wizard of Oz was also prophetic in pointing to what I’ve sometimes described as a more “jazz-style” approach toward religion and spiritual community. How?Because rather than just suggest that the “answer lies within,” it also depicts a coordination of diverse, extremely different personalities and life-paths, as if to suggest an entirely new social dynamic is in play as well.

To illustrate this point, I’ve sometimes drawn on the contrast between an old-school Gregorian choir (representing a more Piscean Age creative model) and a modern-day jazz band (representing a distinctly Aquarian creative sensibility). Both are group-oriented models, but with a fundamental difference: in the Gregorian choir, we see individuals essentially sacrificing their individuality towards a greater ideal, whereas in the jazz band, individual creativity is actually encouraged—the result being an entirely new synergistic dynamic. (We see much the same dynamic involved with the economic system of capitalism, and the political system of democracy.)

In much that same spirit, Baum’s story doesn’t simply depict one person setting out to realize his or her own heroic quest; nor does it even show a group of individuals setting out to find a common goal, as was the case with classic quests like the Holy Grail or the Golden Fleece. Rather, in Baum’s story we see a group of totally different beings, each seeking completely different life-goals. For one of them, it’s courage; for another, it’s home; for another, brains; while for yet another, heart. Yet despite those differences, they somehow harmonize their respective quests. It’s the jazz model applied to mythology and religion, in other words.

To my mind, this offers a vital clue for our survival in the coming age. It is not simply a matter of awakening to our own calling or dream; we must also find a way of coordinating and harmonizing ours with those of others, of building a kaleido­scopic network of diverse spiritual visions in society. This may well turn out to be the greatest challenge of the mythic quest in our time: that of honoring our own uniqueness while simultaneously honoring and coordinating with that of others as we walk along the long path to Oz.

Notes:

1. Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God, Vol. 4: Creative Mythology. New York, Viking, 1977, p. 36.

2. Algeo, John. "The Wizard of Oz on Theosophy" The Quest (Nov.-Dec. 2000).

3. Joseph Campbell frequently spoke about how distinctly different the Arthurian legends were from earlier “group quests” handed down from classical times. For instance, in the Old French version of the search for the Holy Grail, La Queste del Saint Graal), each of the knights of the Round Table searched for it on their own. As the original text described it, "They agreed that all would go on this quest, but they thought it would be a dis­grace to go forth in a group, so each entered the forest at a point that he, him­self, had chosen, where it was darkest and there was no path.”
[emphasis added]. To Campbell, that description offered an important insight into the Western approach to both spirituality and psychology, which differs so dramatically from that found in Oriental mythologies where individuality is less valued, if not discouraged. Despite that element of individualism, though, the knights were nonetheless all searching for the same thing: the Holy Grail. In the Oz story, however, Baum has each character searching for something fundamentally different. Yet they’ve somehow learned how to coordinate their respective journeys without sacrificing their own visions. That is a fundamental shift in the nature of the spiritual quest. In a certain sense, the goal itself has changed, having become more individualized to suit the needs of each quester.

Ray Grasse is a writer, astrologer, and photographer, and author of ten books. His websites are www.raygrasse.com and www.raygrassephotography.com.