A message from Anonymous

I have a question about "communicating" with Lucifer as an archetype or symbol, or rather learning how to develop a personal relationship with the light bringer archetype. I'm not expecting a big booming voice or a disembodied consciousness, but a more personal relationship with the deity which may or may not exist. I've been considering contemplating my own life to find Lucifer within myself. Do you have any tips on developing this sort of personal relationship?

Personally, I would caution you against starting such a relationship looking completely inward, and building a practice based on those findings. This is something I did as well, and while I don’t exactly regret it, I think it held me back for a long time too. 

If you go searching for things within you that you believe to be representative of Lucifer right off the bat, it’s easy to become overconfident in your knowledge of him, and you are more likely to ‘create’ him as you would want him to be. For example, I thought my dislike of God was representative of Lucifer when I first started out, and so I built him into an entity that fit my preferences.

I might get some negative reactions for saying this, but if Lucifer stands as an archetype/symbol who you are completely comfortable with, who represents everything you love and abhors everything you hate, then you seriously need to reexamine your faith and the purposes you have created it for. If you’re not being challenged to see things from new perspectives, if you’re not being forced to question your own beliefs, then you are not taking in the lessons that this symbol is offering. Light reveals harsh truths, but it can also blind you to these truths—stand too close so that you believe yourself with all your prejudices and biases to already be this Lightbearer symbol, and chances are you’re allowing yourself to be blinded.

Apotheosis is a long journey—I would suggest that if you really want to start inward, find what Lightbearer qualities you are lacking, and work on those first. This is still toeing the line regarding creating the Lightbearer as you wish him to be, but less so than the above I think. 

If you’re willing to hold off on inward work for the time being, study anything about this archetype that you can get your hands on. Find out what other people have to say about these figures in all their guises—even the less flattering ones. Read about the lightbearer as the liberator of man, read about him as the gifter of fire, read about him as deceiver and destroyer. Read everything, from scathing insults from bible-belt believers to admiration-fueled prose written by atheists. Read fiction and scripture alike.

Make note of the information you like, and the information you don’t like. Figure out what representations you are comfortable with, and which you are uncomfortable with. Ask yourself why—don’t sugarcoat your answers, or try to reason with yourself on why you are justified in your preferences. Be as objective as possible. Once you’ve done that, start over. This time, try to understand why the authors of all these different pieces feel the way they do, see the lightbearer in the way they do. Pretend you’re the theist who is enraptured by Prometheus’s sacrifice, pretend you’re the born-again Christian who awaits the day that the devil is gone for good. Take into account your original biases, and build an argument against them. Question everything.

Something will come from this. It may not be the type of relationship you originally wanted, it may not even be with the Lightbearer figure/symbol that you originally admired, but it will be something with depth, a relationship you can build on towards your own apotheosis.

A message from theroaringdark

Your mountain post was so beautiful, and your love so moving, that I found myself tearing up, too. Thank you for sharing that.

Aw, thank you! It was nice to be writing devotional posts again, since I’ve been doing so little of it lately.

The Mountain

I want to thank wanderinglistener for their most recent piece of artwork which reminded me of The Mountain, a timelapse video that has become more like a religious experience for me.

Without fail, The Mountain makes me tear up every single time I watch it. I’ve often said that finding this faith was akin to falling in love, and that description is still the best I can give—but The Mountain acts as a reminder that I fell in love with far more than a set of ideals, I fell in love with humanity and the world around me. So it only makes sense that my understanding of my faith, and my preferred visualization of my god would not be confined to a particular shape or form.

Instead, he is a sky that should be dark and empty (for what could arise from Godlessness except darkness?), but has become a canvas on which he paints to honor his Lord. He paints to remember, to resemble, to reflect—to become more like God in all his ways (for He must increase, and I must decrease). It is a paltry likeness, but what do we know of God anyways—for humanity it is breathtaking and awe-inspiring all the same.  Unsuccessful though his attempts may be, he has brought us a bit closer to knowing an unfathomable God, and to bringing the divine to earth.

He has starlight for eyes, countless burning suns shining all the brighter despite (or perhaps because of) the eternal separation from his God. Crowned in his broken glory, he announces a Dawn that will nevermore grace him with its light. Wrapped in shadow though he may be, his steps leave sunbeams in his wake.

I see him as an exile in a world where flowers bloom at his feet only to wither and fade, but endure despite the destructive expanse of humanity. A world where the depths of the sea lure the relentless curiosity and greed of mankind, who see opportunity in place of beauty. A world where it becomes less about him and less about God (despite his attempts to paint the sky and remind us of The One who loved us enough to denounce his beloved prince for the sin of failing to love us with the same fervor), and more about us, with all our faults and imperfections. A world where amidst all the death and suffering and darkness there is also life and joy and hope. A world where we have made ourselves imitations of the divine, stumbling in our quest to become our own flawed gods.

And because not unlike him, wherein our divinity is seen best when we are rising from our darkest moments, he gives us the opportunity to be refined by fire, to become more like God. If that means having to become the monster of our nightmares, an adversary that is as horrible as we can conceive ourselves to be, then so be it. If it means forsaking the pearls and jewels that once adorned his being, replacing them with a mask reflecting our own doubts and fears (for that which is holy is hidden and veiled), it will be done. If it means becoming hated rather than revered for his trials, then he will serve in the only way he knows how. He will test and illuminate and burn if he must, but in the end we must make that choice for ourselves, and craft ourselves into divinity.

My faith resembles a kiss between earth and sky, where humanity and divinity become so entwined that it is impossible to tell the two apart. Instead, they become something far more radiant in their unity. 


We, the stumbling prophets
screaming ourselves raw,
wondering if Atlas will ever take
the world from our shoulders.
We, the impossible.
We, the unyielding.

We, the unrelenting heretics
burning alive for truths
the old world will never
be ready to hear.
We, the nuclear.
We, the radioactive.

We, the unwilling angels
choking on the innocence
shoved down our throats,
ripping these unforgiving
linens to shreds.
We, the celestial.
We, the hungry.

We, the courageous damned
kissing revolution in the moonlight,
crushing fate between our teeth.
We, the unholy.
We, the light.


Emily Palermo, Millennials  (via starredsoul)

A message from Anonymous

To someone who is interested in becoming a luciferian what would be your words of advice to kind of give them, an idea to look at, on terms of intergrating into luciferianism?

Learn to leave your comfort zone, and don’t shy away from doubt, use it to your advantage. I’m not just talking about skepticism in what you read and study—learn to question your own thoughts and ideas. The most important revelations for me thus far have been those occasions when I have objectively picked apart my own beliefs, and when I have let go of my own stubborn prejudices to truly listen to those arguments which I always dismissed.

A message from Anonymous

Hey, I just want to say thanks for this blog. The time and effort put into it, the care, the analysis of texts regarding Lucifer are amazing.

Thank you. I’m sorry that I haven’t been as active lately as I had hoped in regards to original posts, but c’est la vie.

A message from Anonymous

As an agnostic luciferian, how do you deal with disbelief and deity silence? I find myself being jealous of other luciferians who claim to have personal experiences with lucifer, and I can't seem to move forward because of this.

I’m going to be completely honest here: the issue of deity silence was only a significant problem for me when I still considered myself pagan.

I found that there was an overwhelming pressure within the community to seek those experiences of gods tapping you on the shoulder or whispering in your ear, and that mindset really caused me to focus on the ‘divine’ aspects of luciferianism while ignoring the more human aspects. And I think this was what I needed at the time—after all, I came to luciferianism so cynical about divine, as someone that wanted nothing to do with it. The immersion in a community that actively welcomed and sought out divine experiences helped spur the first of many paradigm shifts that would occur in my faith, and did inspire me to grow spiritually.

But after a while, I felt stuck. Like you, I couldn’t seem to move forward. I felt like I was hearing the same conversations over and over again, most of which were not challenging my faith or the way I thought—I felt comfortable, maybe even overconfident, in my theism and in my god. Looking back, I think I hit a point where I felt as though my faith was only ever validated and motivated forward by the next ‘experience’ I had with the divine, the next ‘sign’ from my god that this was real. I’d come to rely on the divine more than myself, something I had told myself I’d never do, and had grown lazy waiting for divine inspiration while not taking the initiative to find it myself.

So when I broke away from the pagan community, it was kind of like starting over, since I was approaching luciferianism through a completely different mindset. The divine was no longer my only priority in my faith, Lucifer as an entity suddenly didn’t matter so much—instead, humanity bloomed into focus. ‘Divine experiences’ weren’t a necessity anymore, and deity silence didn’t scare me as much. Before, deity silence meant that perhaps Lucifer wasn’t a real entity, and that perhaps I was wasting my time for nothing. It increased my disbelief not only in my god, but in the values I thought I was fighting for. Afterwards, deity silence meant nothing—it could make me disbelieve in Lucifer as an entity, yes, but not in Lucifer as a force and ideology embedded within humanity itself.

I can’t disbelieve when I see people flourish despite adversity, inspire hope when all seems lost, and stare injustice in the eye with the promise that they will go down fighting if they must. So maybe I don’t always believe in my god as an actual god—it now seems rather insignificant that I cling to a literal divine form for him when he can be seen in so many other manifestations which, rather than being distinct and separate from humanity, are embodied in mankind’s very essence. 

So while I still honor him as a god, and while divine experiences and signs are not unwelcome, I don’t feel as though I need them to validate my practice or my faith anymore, and I don’t need to look towards the divine when I can also look to humanity for inspiration.

"You called me, you cried out, you shattered my deafness: you flashed, you shone, you scattered my blindness: you breathed perfume, and I drew in my breath and I pant for you: I tasted, and I am hungry and thirsty: you touched me and I burned for your peace."

St Augustine  (via awgusteen)

A message from xing-to-me

Hello! Is good to see someone who also worships Lucifer. I been worshipping him for about a year now and I come to realize he really likes Butterflies. I don't know if it was just my experience with him or if you can relate?

Hi there, I’m afraid I don’t really have any personal experiences that would support the butterfly thing.

But I just want to clear one thing up, because I’ve gotten quite a few new followers referring to my practice as ‘worship’ and it is making me rather uncomfortable.

I do not worship Lucifer. I respect, love, and honor him, and it is because of that deep-rooted respect for what he represents that I cannot claim to worship him, no matter how much I may long to. It is my personal belief that the complete submissive fealty towards him and the exalted glorification of his name suggested by the term ‘worship’ is not something he would want from me, and would in fact negate my work towards emulating his ideals. For more info on this, please see my post Of Worship and Submission, or Lack Thereof

So i’d highly appreciate it if my followers could not refer to my practice and devotion as ‘worship’—thank you in advance!

A message from Anonymous

Would you be prepared to make your devotional prayer beads for others?

Sorry, I’m afraid not. I’d be more than happy to help anyone interested in making their own, however.