Elaine Pagels’ groundbreaking work, particularly The Gnostic Gospels, offers a powerful starting point for questioning the traditionally presented teachings of Jesus. Her research centers on the Nag Hammadi library, a collection of early Christian and Gnostic texts discovered in Egypt in 1945.

Pagels’ analysis of these texts reveals a profound diversity in early Christianity, suggesting that Jesus may have offered different levels of teaching, tailored to his audience:

Pagels argues that the Gnostic texts imply a distinction between:

1. Public Teachings: These were the more accessible parables and moral precepts found in the canonical (New Testament) Gospels. These were suitable for spiritual “beginners” or a general audience who needed concrete direction, institutional support, and were not yet prepared to grasp more abstract, subtle, or mystical concepts.
2. “Secret Teachings” (Esoteric/Gnostic): These were reserved for those deemed spiritually advanced—disciples capable of deeper, inner spiritual practice. These teachings, as contained in Gnostic Gospels like the Gospel of Thomas, focus on immediate personal experience and profound self-discovery.

The core message of these “secret teachings” stands in stark contrast to later orthodox doctrine:

• Inner Divinity and Self-Knowledge (Gnosis): The primary focus is on the realization that the “Kingdom of God” is not a future, external heaven, but a present reality found within the individual. Salvation is achieved through gnosis (Greek for “knowledge”), which is a personal, intuitive, and mystical awareness of one’s own divine nature and connection to the ultimate source of existence. As the Gospel of Thomas states: “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”
• Jesus as a Guide, not a Sole Savior: In the Gnostic view, Jesus is primarily an illuminated teacher who imparts this liberating knowledge (gnosis). His role is to awaken others to the divine light already within them, acting more as a spiritual master than an exclusive divine sacrifice. This interpretation directly challenges the later orthodox emphasis on faith in his physical resurrection and the atoning power of his death as the only path to salvation.
• The Divine Source Is Universally Accessible: The Gnostic texts suggest that all human beings, being fundamentally created in the image of God, possess a direct, inherent link to the divine. This “secret connection” can be activated through personal inner work—such as introspection, prayer, or meditation—without the essential mediation of an elaborate church hierarchy or mandatory ritual.

Pagels’ work demonstrates that early Christianity was a vibrant and diverse movement before the Council of Nicaea solidified the orthodox canon and doctrine. The Gnostic viewpoints were systematically suppressed and labeled as heresy by the emerging institutional church, which favored teachings that supported a unified organizational structure and centralized authority. Consequently, the Christianity that prevailed and is generally practiced today represents only a “slice” of that complex early spiritual landscape.

The emphasis on personal inner revelation and the universal divine spark found in the secret teachings provides a completely different lens for viewing Christian faith. By defining salvation as self-knowledge and a realization of inner divinity, the Gnostic view aligns with the mystical traditions of many world religions (e.g., Sufism, Hinduism’s Advaita Vedanta, and Buddhist concepts of enlightenment). This focus on a common “spiritual dimension in human experience,” rather than exclusive historical claims or doctrines, inherently removes the perception of conflict often created by the orthodox tenet that salvation is solely through belief in Jesus Christ. It offers a potential bridge for genuine understanding between all faiths.

For me, psychology was the unexpected pathway that led to the Eastern religions. As a young adult, I was initially drawn to psychology in the hope that it could help me to understand myself, but I didn’t yet realize it held a door to a profound spiritual discovery.

That door was opened by Carl Jung, specifically through the accessible work, Man and His Symbols, which served as an ideal introduction to Jungian thought. At the time, I was having intense dreams that were illuminating issues I needed to address, and Jung’s framework provided the context and the tools to engage with them.

Jung himself had a deep, almost innate attraction to Eastern spirituality, an attraction that began in childhood. He describes this foundational curiosity in his autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections:

“…I remember a time when I could not yet read, but pestered my mother to read aloud to me out of…an old, richly illustrated children’s book, which contained an account of exotic religions, especially that of the Hindus. There were illustrations of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva which I found an inexhaustible source of interest. My mother later told me that I always returned to these pictures.”

This early exposure to the Hindu pantheon suggests that his later academic exploration of Eastern religion was driven by a powerful, pre-conscious inner pull.

Later in his life, Jung wrote the essay “The Holy Men of India,” which detailed his fascination with Indian sages. His interest wasn’t in the individual man, but in the archetypal figure of the rishi (seer) or holy man. Jung’s psychological insight was that this figure is an expression of the Self archetype—the central, all-knowing and ordering principle of the entire personality. This Self often emerges in our dreams and visions, bringing an illumination that the limited conscious mind cannot otherwise access.

It was this concept of the Self archetype that so profoundly resonated with me when I encountered Man and His Symbols. It validated a dimension of my personality I had experienced on many levels—an inherent completeness that transcended the formal, often rigid concept of spirituality I had inherited as a baptized Catholic.

Jung’s Near-Death Experience

Jung’s theories were not abstract concepts; they were reflections of his own powerful inner life, including a harrowing near-death experience (NDE) that fundamentally altered his view of reality.

In 1944, following a broken foot and a heart attack, Jung slipped into a state of unconsciousness and experienced a classic, vivid NDE, which he recounted in detail:

“It seemed to me that I was high up in space. Far below I saw the globe of the earth, bathed in a gloriously blue light… Far below my feet lay Ceylon, and in the distance ahead of me the subcontinent of India… My gaze was directed chiefly toward that. Everything else appeared indistinct… I knew that I was on the point of departing from the earth.”

As he journeyed toward a colossal stone structure—a temple—the process of shedding his earthly self began:

“As I approached the steps leading up to the entrance into the rock, a strange thing happened: I had the feeling that everything was being sloughed away; everything I aimed at or wished for or thought, the whole phantasmagoria of earthly existence, fell away or was stripped from me—an extremely painful process. Nevertheless something remained; it was as if I now carried along with me everything I had ever experienced or done, everything that had happened around me… I consisted of all that, so to speak. I consisted of my own history, and I felt with great certainty: this is what I am. ‘I am this bundle of what has been, and what has been accomplished.'”

He was certain that this purified essence would receive ultimate knowledge inside the temple:

“I had the certainty that I was about to enter an illuminated room and would meet there all those people to whom I belong in reality. There I would at last understand… what historical nexus I or my life fitted into... My life seemed to have been snipped out of a long chain of events, and many questions had remained unanswered… I felt sure that I would receive an answer to all these questions as soon as I entered the rock temple.”

As with many NDE accounts, a messenger from Earth intervened and informed him he had to return. Jung described feeling tremendous disappointment at being forced back into the “box system” of physical reality and having the anticipated revelations cut short.

Jungian psychology is indeed a reflection of his personal crises and visions. The concepts he developed provide psychological language for spiritual experiences:

• The Persona, the mask we wear and the personality we project, is precisely the superficial self that was “stripped away” from him during the NDE. Jung’s experience validates his teaching that the ego must be detached from the persona to discover the deeper Self.
• The Shadow, the repressed and darker side of the personality, was a concept he was forced to integrate following his own confrontation with the unconscious after his split with Freud—a period he called his “confrontation with the unconscious.”

Jung’s greatest contribution may be his insistence on the inseparable connection between psychology and spirituality. He was correct in incorporating a spirituality that transcends human religion into his psychological framework. Since, as he discovered, we are inherently spiritual beings having a human experience, divorcing spirituality from our life can only lead to adverse consequences for our mental health. We are fortunate to have a psychologist who so skillfully mapped the terrain between the material world and the mystical realms.

A common pitfall for both critics and practitioners of religion is the tendency to confuse the outward appearances and practices with the true goal of the spiritual path. These external elements, such as rituals, statues, and even sacred texts, are merely forms—they are not the ultimate message itself. The true aim of these practices is to guide an individual toward an ineffable state of being, a mental and emotional realization that transcends words and concepts. One who has not experienced this state firsthand cannot possibly comprehend it, much like an individual who is convinced there’s no consciousness after death cannot understand the profound states of awareness described by mystics.

This distinction between form and essence is a central tenet of Zen Buddhism. Unlike religious traditions that rely heavily on ritual and dogma, Zen offers a direct path to enlightenment. It seeks to realize a state of mind that goes beyond conceptual thought and external rites. This approach is exemplified by masters like Huangbo Xiyun (Huang Po), a Chinese Chan Buddhist master from the 9th century CE. His teachings cut through the superficial layers of religious practice to point directly to the core of existence: the One Mind.

Huang Po’s teaching of the “One Mind” is profoundly simple yet radical: all beings, all Buddhas, and all phenomena are expressions of this single, undivided reality. Nothing exists outside of it. This philosophy echoes the core teachings of Advaita Vedanta, the Indian school of philosophy that emphasizes non-dualism (Oneness). In Advaita Vedanta, this ultimate reality is known as Brahman, and the goal is to realize that the individual self (Atman) is identical with Brahman. Both traditions assert that the ultimate reality is not something to be attained but something that one fundamentally already is.

Huang Po argued that seeking Buddhahood externally, through practices or merit, is a mistake—it is “using the Buddha to seek for the Buddha.” The true path, he taught, is to simply cease conceptual thought, as the Buddha (the One Mind) is already present.

The text below, translated from Chuanxin Fayao (“Essential of Mind Transmission”) by John Blofeld, is worthy of contemplation: 

“All the Buddhas and all sentient beings are nothing but the One Mind, beside which nothing exists. This Mind, which is without beginning, is unborn and indestructible. It is not green nor yellow, and has neither form nor appearance. It does not belong to the categories of things which exist or do not exist, nor can it be thought of in terms of new or old. It is neither long nor short, big nor small, for it transcends all limits, measures, names, traces and comparisons. It is that which you see before you—begin to reason about it and you at once fall into error. It is like the boundless void which cannot be fathomed or measured. The One Mind alone is the Buddha, and there is no distinction between the Buddha and sentient things, but sentient beings are attached to forms and so seek externally for Buddhahood. By their very seeking they lose it, for that is using the Buddha to seek for the Buddha and using mind to grasp Mind. Even though they do their utmost for a full aeon, they will not be able to attain it. They do not know that, if they put a stop to conceptual thought and forget their anxiety, the Buddha will appear before them, for this Mind is the Buddha and the Buddha is all living beings. 

As to performing the six pāramitās and vast numbers of similar practices, or gaining merits as countless as the sands of the Ganges, since you are fundamentally complete in every respect, you should not try to supplement that perfection by such meaningless practices. When there is occasion for them, perform them; and, when the occasion is passed, remain quiescent. If you are not absolutely convinced that the Mind is the Buddha, and if you are attached to forms, practices and meritorious performances, your way of thinking is false and quite incompatible with the Way. The Mind is the Buddha, nor are there any other Buddhas or any other mind. It is bright and spotless as the void, having no form or appearance whatever.

…

If you are not absolutely convinced that the Mind is the Buddha, and if you are attached to forms, practices and meritorious performances, your way of thinking is false and quite incompatible with the Way.

…

To practise the six pāramitās and a myriad similar practices with the intention of becoming a Buddha thereby is to advance by stages, but the Ever-Existent Buddha is not a Buddha of stages. Only awake to the One Mind, and there is nothing whatsoever to be attained. This is the REAL Buddha. The Buddha and all sentient beings are the One Mind and nothing else.”

[Text taken from The Zen Teaching of Huang-Po: On the Transmission of Mind,” (c) 1958 by John Blofeld.]

The concept of a “Second Coming” of Jesus, a pivotal doctrine in Christian eschatology, finds its foundational roots predominantly within the New Testament. This idea is not confined to a single source but is woven throughout various books: from Jesus’ own pronouncements in the canonical Gospels, particularly the extensive Olivet Discourse (Matthew 24-25, Mark 13, Luke 21), which details signs of his return and the end of the age; to the Acts of the Apostles, where angels assure the disciples that Jesus will return “in the same way” he ascended (Acts 1:11); and profoundly in the epistles of Paul, Peter, James, and John, which consistently affirm a future, glorious advent, often using terms like parousia (presence, arrival), epiphaneia (appearing), and apokalypsis (revelation). The Book of Revelation, in particular, offers the most vivid and symbolic depictions of this future event, portraying Christ as a conquering king returning to establish his eternal reign and judge humanity.

While traditional Christian theology unequivocally posits a literal, physical return of Jesus Christ as the divine Son of God, a distinct interpretation has emerged in esoteric and New Age spiritual traditions. This perspective suggests that Jesus was not speaking of his physical return, but rather of the “Christ consciousness” that he so perfectly embodied and exemplified—a profound state of spiritual awareness, divine unity, and unconditional love that, they assert, is universally available for all humanity to experience and realize.

This reinterpretation has historical antecedents in various spiritual currents:

The Gnostic movements of early Christianity, flourishing in the 2nd to 4th centuries CE, often drew a significant distinction between the historical Jesus (the man of Nazareth) and the “Christ” (a divine emanation, principle, or spiritual state of being). For many Gnostics, “Christ” was a cosmic intelligence or spiritual principle that descended upon Jesus, empowering him. They emphasized secret knowledge (gnosis) as the primary path to spiritual liberation and awakening, believing that true salvation lay in this inner revelation of one’s divine nature, rather than solely through the atoning sacrifice (crucifixion) of Jesus. This foundational separation of Jesus the man from the Christ principle laid conceptual groundwork for later esoteric interpretations.

In the late 19th century, the Theosophical Society, co-founded by Helena Blavatsky, became a pivotal force in popularizing esoteric interpretations of Western religious figures. Theosophy significantly distinguished between the historical person of Jesus and the “Christ principle” or “Christ office,” which they viewed as a universal, impersonal divine attribute or an evolved spiritual station. They posited that Jesus was an exceptionally advanced and “highly evolved soul” who, through his spiritual development, allowed this universal “Christ principle” to embody fully through him, particularly at his baptism. This reinterpretation presented Jesus not as the sole incarnation of God, but as a master who perfectly manifested a divine potential accessible to all.

Furthering this perspective, Annie Besant, a prominent leader in the Theosophical Society after Blavatsky, meticulously explored this view of the Christ principle in her influential 1905 book, Esoteric Christianity, or The Lesser Mysteries. In this work, she famously articulated the idea that “Every man is a potential Christ, and the unfolding of the Christ-life in a man follows the outline of the Gospel story in its striking incidents.” For Besant, the Gospel narratives were not merely historical accounts but allegories of the spiritual journey of initiation and awakening that every individual could undertake to realize their own “Christ-life.”

Later, the renowned Indian yogi Paramahansa Yogananda, who introduced Kriya Yoga to the West in the mid-20th century, profoundly elaborated on this concept in his extensive two-volume commentary, The Second Coming of Christ: The Resurrection of the Christ Within You. Yogananda expressed the view that the traditional concept of the Second Coming should not be understood as a literal physical return of Jesus. Instead, he interpreted it metaphorically, representing the awakening of the universal “Christ Consciousness” within individuals. For Yogananda, “Christ Consciousness” transcended sectarian boundaries; it referred to the infinite, all-pervading consciousness of God that animates and underlies all creation. He asserted that Jesus had fully embodied this boundless consciousness and that it is readily available for all human beings to experience and realize through dedicated spiritual disciplines, particularly various yogic and meditative practices aimed at inner realization.

The assertion that much of organized religion is a human construct, despite the claim that written scriptures are the “Word of God,” is a perspective that warrants critical examination. To understand how contemporary Christianity, particularly its foundational doctrines, came to be, one must delve into pivotal historical moments, none more significant than the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE.

This influential council, convened by the Roman Emperor Constantine, was driven by motivations that were arguably more secular than purely theological. At the time, the nascent Christian church was grappling with a multitude of diverse interpretations regarding the life and teachings of Jesus. A particularly contentious issue revolved around Arianism, a doctrine propagated by Arius, a presbyter from Alexandria. Arius taught that Jesus Christ, while a divine being, was not co-eternal or co-equal with God the Father but was rather a created being, albeit the first and highest of God’s creations. This theological stance ignited fervent debate and threatened to fracture the unity of the rapidly growing Christian movement.

Constantine, who had recently consolidated his power and sought to stabilize his vast Roman Empire, perceived this burgeoning religious discord as a direct threat to civil order. For him, the internal squabbles of the Church jeopardized the very social cohesion he sought to establish. He envisioned Christianity as a unifying force across his empire and, consequently, felt compelled to intervene and establish a common, orthodox understanding of Christian doctrine. His imperial authority was thus leveraged to foster religious conformity, aiming to transform a diverse set of beliefs into a singular, cohesive narrative that could serve the interests of imperial stability.

Among its many crucial decisions, the Council of Nicaea is notably recognized for giving official “stamp of approval” to the Gospels of Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John, solidifying their status as the “canonical gospels.” This selection process inherently involved the exclusion of other existing gospels that presented alternative narratives and theological perspectives. Prominent among those rejected were texts such as the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Mary (Magdalene), which are now often referred to as “non-canonical gospels” or “apocryphal gospels.” Their exclusion significantly shaped the direction of Christian theology.

For instance, the Gospel of Mary presents intriguing statements attributed to Jesus that diverge sharply from later orthodox interpretations. In this text, Jesus is recorded as declaring, “There is no sin…” This statement, if interpreted literally, fundamentally challenges the concept of inherent human sinfulness central to many established Christian doctrines, including that of original sin. Furthermore, the Gospel of Mary quotes Jesus as stating, “Do not lay down any rules beyond what I appointed you, and do not give a law like the lawgiver lest you be constrained by it.” This admonition could be seen as a direct critique of the burgeoning legalism and hierarchical structure that would come to characterize the institutional Church, suggesting a simpler, less codified path of faith.

Similarly, the Gospel of Thomas offers a profound, more esoteric understanding of the “Kingdom of God.” In one of its most frequently quoted sayings (Logion 3), Jesus states: “…the kingdom is inside of you, and it is outside of you. When you come to know yourselves, then you will become known, and you will realize that it is you who are the sons of the living father. But if you will not know yourselves, you dwell in poverty and it is you who are that poverty.” This perspective emphasizes an internal, experiential realization of the divine, contingent upon self-knowledge and an awareness of one’s inherent connection to the divine Father. Such an emphasis on inner spiritual experience often contrasts with external religious rituals and doctrinal adherence.

In my book, “Jesus—The Mystical Way,” I delve into these alternative interpretations, exploring what I believe to be the probable real message of Jesus, often in contradistinction to church-created doctrines. I examine and reject core tenets such as the Holy Trinity (and, by extension, the full divinity of Jesus as defined at Nicaea) and the concept of eternal damnation. Furthermore, I take issue with the Catholic Church’s persistent advocacy for the necessity of sacraments as primary conduits of grace. Instead, drawing from Jesus’s repeated assertion that “the Kingdom of God is within,” I propose that his essential message was an encouragement for his followers to embark on an inward spiritual journey through prayer and meditation, seeking direct communion with the divine.

I contend that the authentic historical Jesus and his core teachings can be most clearly discerned in specific, foundational elements of the canonical Gospels. These include:

• The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7): This profound collection of ethical and spiritual teachings offers a radical blueprint for living, emphasizing humility, compassion, forgiveness, and an inward transformation of the heart over outward adherence to law.
• The Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32): This timeless narrative powerfully conveys the unconditional love and boundless forgiveness of God for humanity.
• The Primacy of the Two Great Commandments (Matthew 22:34-40): When asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus synthesized the entirety of the Law and the Prophets into two inseparable principles: “Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

These core teachings, rather than later theological elaborations, form the bedrock of Jesus’s original message—a call to radical love for God and neighbor, rooted in an inner transformation and the recognition of God’s immediate presence.