(note: I am challenging myself to write every day for 30 days. What follows may not necessarily be interesting or even coherent. Parental discretion is advised.)
Yes, that’s him right there. Gaze upon the son of God you spineless heathens! He is available on the new Netflix series “Messiah” which debuted a few days ago that yours truly has binged to completion last night.
I’ll do my best to avoid spoilers, but safe to say, the above scene has the supposed messiah perform a miracle in front of a crowd of curiosity-seekers gathered at the Washington monument.
As the credits rolled on the final episode, I thought about what it all meant. Who is this guy? We don’t really know, although there is evidence that he is not who he presents himself to be. The show constantly plays with the idea of uncertainty and doubt regarding this alleged messiah (anti-Christ?). Just when you think it couldn’t be more obvious that he has supernatural powers, the rug gets pulled out and you wonder if what you believed in was wrong all along.
Rinse and repeat.
While thinking about this character, a lot of old experiences and ideas came flooding back into my mind that hasn’t been entertained in years. The idea of a second-coming of Christ was something I had long wondered about as to how such an event would look like in modern times. I also related to the Messiah character quite well, because…
…I used to feel that same way.
A quote that is often repeated in the show advises that “you become what you believe” which serves as an explanation and hint to what the messiah character may actually be. Is he the reincarnation of Jesus or a con-artist?
The reason why I related to this character so much is because more than a decade ago I had experienced a profound shifting of my psyche which lead me to believe that I was the reincarnation of Christ. Yes, I am aware of how strange this sounds and it is very uncomfortable for me to admit towards.
Somewhere around 2006, a series of inexplicable and unfortunate circumstances put me in a state of mind that resembled ego death. It felt as if the chains of my ego melted off and what remained was the essence of who I truly was. A bright soul existing beneath the mud of societal conditioning and self-identity that was finally released from it’s prison.
In this fragile state of what I would characterize as a type of psychosis, I began to feel as if I was meant to save the world. Everything sparkled. Colours were brighter, the air fresher, optimism was renewed and it felt like I was being steered by the hidden hand of God or mysterious forces to complete certain objectives that made little sense to me.
I would indulge the strong pull of intuition at every moment. Did I feel compelled to wander into a dark ominous alleyway for no reason whatsoever? Done. Abandon everything and drive for hours and days without a destination in mind? Sure. Spend a few hours at a makeshift campfire on the side of the road with a stranger who had the need to confess his entire life to me? Certainly, I had nothing to fear in any of what happened during this time. I felt protected and guided to such an extent that fear couldn’t exist.
The naivete I was feeling was leading me into situations that further reinforced and compounded a messianic identity as coincidences began to pile up and support my beliefs. Why was I seeing dogs everywhere all of a sudden? Oh, “dog” means “God” spelled backwards, that’s why, and I felt more emboldened and certain of this new identity I’ve adopted because clearly I was being communicated with and shown what to do and where to go.
During all of this I had not taken full leave of my senses and did have my doubts. How could I possibly be the Messiah? Where were my magic powers? Why me? What was I expected to achieve?
But in spite of these questions, I was becoming what I believed. A little more confident each time something weird happened. When you have someone break into tears saying, “you remind me of Jesus” after an interaction that didn’t involve doing anything particularly Jesus-like (ie. quoting scripture), it becomes easier to accept a delusion as truth. Not much different than if say, you are being bullied each day to feel worthless and later believing that you actually are.
Looking back at these memories last night, I felt… ashamed at what happened all these years ago. When I recovered from that one to four month period, I couldn’t process any of what I experienced very well and have been searching for answers since. To this day, I’m still not sure how to explain some of what occurred during those times. I might never be able to and had little choice but to accept it for the mystery that it was.
Writing about this is honestly uncomfortable. I don’t… know if it is wise for me to open up and become vulnerable about these experiences (on the internet, no less) but I do know that it is something on my mind and I vowed to write everyday for thirty days, so… it feels cathartic.
That’s my confession. It’s why I related to the main character of Messiah so much. Because I could see myself in him. I once believed that was me.
The mind is such a strange beast to analyze. Confirmation bias, born-again Christians, defense mechanisms, the ego, the super-conscious, messiah complexes, Christ consciousness, spiritual emergence… the list is long when it comes to understanding how a human being can adopt and maintain such extreme perspectives. Psychiatry can only get so far in explaining any of what I went through and New Age ideas haven’t been of much help other than to claim that we create our own reality. Perhaps that really is the truth of all of what I’ve gone through, although I do not like considering the implication that we merely live in an illusion of our own making. There’s too much packed into that statement which contradicts some of my core beliefs about how the universe works. It feels more like a half-truth and not the satisfying explanation I hoped to accept.
The easiest observation for an outsider to make from all this is to say that these experiences were all a product of imagination and was born from a desperate need to assume an identity that was filled with purpose and meaning. I can’t disagree with that assessment being a possibility, but… again, there were strange moments I’ve yet to find an explanation for.
Much like the character in the show, coincidences and synchronicity played a large part in how my “delusion” developed. Believing that you are someone you’re not, is made much easier when external events are giving weight to support such radical notions. I was not immune to the exercise of critical-thinking while this was going on, it just kept being eroded.
Imagine if you woke up one morning and thought you were the reincarnation of Hitler and then later that day, someone does a “Heil Hitler!” salute in your direction. For no apparent reason. That’s the feeling I was having on a daily basis while enmeshed in this battle of my beliefs. I was becoming what I believed myself to be until it swelled to a point where I had to let it all go. It was too much to take in, too improbable, too much of a responsibility to bear even if it was true.
In the end, I reasoned that it should never be up to one man (or woman) to “save” the world. No matter how bad it gets, the human race should not be made reliant upon a savior to correct and chart the course of a flawed civilization. We live in a collective democracy of thoughts and beliefs that we each are responsible for. What we ALL think, we ALL become.
One person can serve as a catalyst for change, certainly, but should not be expected to shoulder the burden of all of our sins. It’s too much to expect. Too… infantile and naive should you be one that is expecting the return of a person that will save us all.
And that is an interesting thought. Perhaps, this has happened, thousands of years ago in a dry dusty desert where a carpenter once gave his life up to demonstrate passion and commitment to the betterment of all through his unshakable belief in God. He did make us better, but he didn’t solve anything. War still rages on. Ignorance and materialism abounds and God still is as elusive and divisive as ever to Jews, Christians, Muslims and the like.
Perhaps we must all each be our own messiah. Change begins with the individual. We all bear the weight of the world in ways both small and large.
It is up to us, not the messiah — to deliver us from our sins.
Be the change you wish to see in the world.
Do the best that you can.
And witness the miracles unfold.
