A disillusioned Enlilites task Nergal to help neutralise his brother
Marduk, accompanied by his heir Nabu, returned to Babylon with the permission and encouragement of the Enlilite top brass in 2316 BC. He was not officially briefed as to what he should do but the signal from Enlil was that he should get Sargon to bite the dust as the surest way of taming Inanna-Ishtar.
Arriving in Babylon, Marduk did not rush to confront Sargon and Inanna. First, he heavily fortified the city by raising its dikes and walls so that when hostilities broke out, it was secure to a point of being impregnable. Second, Marduk, a civil engineer by training, erected a brand new infrastructure of canals, retinues, and waterworks, complete with underground dams to ensure that Babylon was adequately supplied with water for the foreseeable future. But in doing this, he diverted gargantuan volumes of water from the nearby cities with a view to punish Agade primarily and therefore demoralise its citizenry to a point of rebelling against Sargon and his goddess.
Marduk found that he did not need to wage war against Sargon: the hydrological measures he took were enough to trigger widespread insurrectionist activity in Agade. Without adequate water in a naturally arid land, people could not farm for years on end and starvation became the order of the day. The inevitable followed: the people of Agade turned against their own King. “On account of the sacrilege Sargon thus committed,” say the Sumerian records, “the great lord Marduk became enraged and destroyed his (Sargon’s) people by hunger. From the east to the west he alienated them from Sargon; and upon him he inflicted as punishment that he could not rest.” Even the very texts dedicated to the glorification of Sargon candidly state that, “in his old age, all the provinces revolted against him.”
The beleaguered Sargon spent sleepless nights trying to put off one rebellion after another. Beset by sustained internal dissent, he no longer could afford the expansionist wars of which he was so renowned. Unable to tame his relentlessly mutinous people, he died a very bitter and dejected man circa 2346 BC. In his waning days, he had such rancour against Inanna that he kept cursing her right to his very last breath for foisting on him her own, self-centred ambitions for world dominance.
Even more galling was that the she-Devil was nowhere near his death-bed to comfort him. He had given her great sex and brought her enormous prestige during the 54 years he ruled Sumer & Akkad but as a spent force now, his glory of yesteryears no longer mattered. It was vintage Inanna: she had used and discarded him like a condom.
MARDUK UNSETTLES ENLILITES
Where Marduk was a factor in any bone of contention, Inanna just never budged however hopeless her prospects for redress appeared. Marduk, her mortal enemy who robbed her of her beloved Dumuzi wittingly or unwittingly, was once again ensconced in the heart of Sumer. And not only that: he had deprived Inanna lands of a most vital commodity – water. Inanna vowed to fight him to the death: she would not rest until she got him on the back foot all the way to Egypt, his rightful domain.
Immediately after the death of Sargon, Inanna installed his firstborn son Rimush on the throne. Using him as her battering ram, she descended on Babylon like a howling dervish. “Inanna’s fury no boundaries knew,” say the Sumerian chronicles. “With her weapons on Marduk’s followers death she inflicted, raining flame over the land … attacking like an aggressive storm. The blood of people, as never before on Earth, like rivers flowed.”
But Marduk was not the one to cower and offer the other cheek: he gave as much as he took. In fact, for a number of years, Marduk’s armies had the upper hand, forcing Inanna to replace an underperforming Rimush with his younger brother Manishtusu as her vassal king. Once again, Marduk had the edge. The top brass Enlilites, who had given Marduk the green light to re-establish himself in Babylon, now were alarmed. If Marduk became too powerful, their hope of hobbling his ascendancy to the Enlilship at the dawn of the Age of Aries would be a very tall order indeed.
In order to rein him in, it was either they went to war with him or simply used moral suasion to get him to peacefully retreat from Sumer. The war option obviously was fraught with peril: the Enlilites were in no mood to spark another Enlilite-versus-Enkite war, which this time around might be apocalyptic. The better course of action, therefore, was to engage Marduk in persuasive, roundtable talks. And if that idea had to resonate with him, they would have to use a fellow Enkite, not an Enlilite, who he would readily dismiss as the paradigm of a saboteur.
But the Enkite had to be one who either had Enlilite blood in him or had a demonstrable affinity for the Enlilites. The only Enkite gods who bore such attributes were Nergal and Ningishzidda. Zidda’s mother was Ereshkigal, a granddaughter of Enlil. And Nergal was married to the same Ereshkigal. However, Zidda and Marduk never saw eye to eye: if you recall, Zidda had been forced to leave Egypt for Mesoamerica half a world away by Marduk circa 3113 BC. As such, the Enlilites’ only hope was Nergal, whose other bargaining chip was that he was Marduk’s immediate younger brother.
â€¨NERGAL UNDERTAKES TO REPATRIATE MARDUK
Nergal was the Enkites’ enfant terrible, their equivalent of the Enlilites’ Inanna-Ishtar. Nergal’s other name was Erra. Scholars have misconceived this name as suggesting he was a minion of Marduk, a kind of servant. But you know as much as I do that Nergal was far from a servant of his brother. As a matter of fact, he was a menace to his brother. What Erra simply means is “Junior to Marduk”, whose Egyptian royal title was “Ra”. This was apt in that Nergal was theoretically second in line to the symbolic throne of Enki: as an Enkite heir, Nergal was subordinate only to Marduk, hence his being “The Erra”.
The Enlilite Council to which Nergal was invited comprised of Enlil, Ninurta, Nannar-Sin, Ishkur-Adad, and Utu-Shamash. The only eminent Enlilite missing for obvious reasons was Inanna. In the meeting, chairman Enlil first expressed his dismay that Marduk wanted to dig in in Babylon because he thought the Age of Aries had already arrived. That, Enlil emphasised, was far from the case. Before Enlil could go any further, he was interrupted by Ninurta. “In Heaven, I am a wild bull,” Ninurta thundered. “On Earth, I am a lion. In the land, I am the lord, among the gods I am the fiercest.”
Now, what Ninurta was saying was not simply ordinary-speak. It was actually astrological language, invoking as he was the cult animals of the Enlilites. What he meant was that when one looked up at the evening sky, what they saw was the constellation of Taurus still, which was represented by a bull. As such, the Enlilites, whose second generation he Ninurta headed, were still the Lords of the Earthly realm.
The lion was the symbol of kingship, this arising from the fact that on their planet of origin in the Sirius start system, the Enlilites evolved from a Leonine-Wolfen-Reptilian creature whose dominant feature was that of the lion. That in fact is the reason why even today, the lion is known as the King of Beasts. It is an allegory of the fact that we Earthlings are still a colony of Sirius, that the Sirians will remain the Lords of the Earthly Realm for the foreseeable future though we naively fancy ourselves as a sovereign race.
But although Nergal had a propensity for Enlilites and he and Marduk were frequently at odds, he chose to be impartial and level-headed about the matter. This was his response: “Yes, all that is true. But on the mountaintop, in the bush thicket, see you not the Ram? Its emergence is unavoidable: in that grove, even the supermost time measurer, the bearer of the standards, the course cannot change … On the rim of the Sun's orbit, no matter what the struggle, see that Ram.”
Nergal had made the very same point Marduk kept harping about – that even if the celestial background still was that of Taurus, if one looked closely on the horizon, they would see the approaching Age of the Ram (the Anunnaki had very sophisticated viewing instruments). This was simply the march of nature: it was unstoppable.
The Enlilites were stupefied. They didn’t expect Nergal to speak so favourably and logically of his brother. Lost for words, they began to scratch their heads. It was Nergal himself who came to their aid. He told them that the only thing he could attempt to do on their behalf was to persuade Marduk to restore water supplies to other Sumerian states and to tactfully get him to leave Babylon and therefore bring an end to the on-going armed confrontation. “But that would simply be a postponement of the inevitable,” he regretted to the Enlilites.
The Enlilites gave the suggestion their nod. For with Marduk gone from Babylon, Inanna would certainly get to behave as her father Nannar-Sin and her mother Ningal were spending sleepless nights wondering how their incorrigible and intractable daughter could ever be contained. Marduk’s departure would not douse his ambition to ascend to Enlilship but it would bring about a refreshing lull in the storm and give the Enlilites ample time to weigh their options.
NERGAL ESCORTED BY AN ARMY OF FIRST JEWS
Before he departed for Babylon, Nergal sent word to Marduk that he was on his way and that he should prepare for him. He also informed his brother that he would not be heading straight for Babylon but would deviate to Uruk, Inanna’s cult city, to seek an oracle (divine guidance) at the Eanna, Inanna’s temple home which also doubled as Nibiru King Anu’s spiritual sanctuary. Accompanying Nergal on his trek was a legion of well-trained warriors known as the Gutians. Since he was going into a region wracked with warfare, it was imperative that Nergal be ready to defend himself in case he was wittingly or unwittingly set upon by the forces of either Marduk or Inanna.
Exactly who were the Gutians? In defining them, scholars have as with most aspects about the Sumerian saga got it wrong, erred, or simply desperately fudged the matter. They identify them as warriors all right, but fell to specify their nationality. Well, we will do it for them: the Gutians were the first Jews. Historians are reluctant to characterise them as such because in the Sumerian records, they have been described as dark-skinned, or Africans in short. But we now know that the original Jews were dark-skinned, like the people we today call Falashian Jews.
Historians expediently ignore the fact that the terms Gutians and Judeans mean the same thing. And everybody knows that Judeans were Jews. In point of fact, the Judeans were the true representatives of the Jewish people. It is from the House of Judah (same notion, different spelling) that Jesus emerged, the reason he’s sometimes referred to as the “Lion of Judah”, meaning “The King of the Jews”.
The Gutians were Judeans. They were also known as Kurtheans. The composite meaning of all these three terms is “Mighty Foreigners of the Mountains”. The Gutians were foreigners in Sumer because they came from the part of Africa where Nergal ruled. They were mountain people not that that was their habitat as such but because they were best-trained in mountain-based warfare.
Their base in Europe was the Zagros Mountain range in today’s south-eastern Turkey, which bordered the land of Sumer-Akkad. Whilst in Sumer, they would establish their base at Kutha, along the section of the Zagros Mountain that separated Iraq from Iran. Since they were not native to Sumer, they were dismissively described as a “nomadic people”. In future, the Gutians would constitute an elite crack force of General Ibirum, known in the Bible as Abraham. But that is another story we will come to later.
INANNA SEDUCES NERGAL
When Nergal arrived at the Eanna in Uruk, Inanna was eagerly awaiting him. And she made sure she looked so sexy and so stunning as to make Nergal salivate, which he indeed did: the moment he saw her, a huge sensation of lust pervaded him. Just from the way he eyed her, Inanna knew in her heart that she had thrust a spear through his own.
Inanna there and then whisked him to her lovemaking pad known as the Gigunnu. But she didn’t strip straightaway: she first had to present her manifesto. The basic essentials of the manifesto were that she wanted Nergal to ally with her in her contention with Marduk. The two should face-off with him and once he had been vanquished they would rule the world as god and goddess of the Age of the Ram.
“Look Nergal,” Inanna intoned as she turned on her sex appeal by deliberately flashing her shapely thighs, “even after the death of my hubby Dumuzi, I wanted you to marry me. I wanted your kids. I’m the more suitable person for your spouse and not the dim-witted and obscure Ereshkigal. So let’s conquer the world and rule it together Nergal! Let us make mince of Marduk.”
With so much loathing for Marduk naturally, Nergal did not need persuading: it was a deal without much ado. Nergal undertook that he would do Inanna’s bidding but would proceed about it in a tactical way. He would first cajole Marduk into departing Sumer and then do a demolition job on his instruments of self-assertion. Then Inanna and he would sit down to orchestrate the demise of Marduk. With Marduk gone to glory, Nergal as the second born would replace him as the new Enlil in the Age of the Ram. That was like music to Inanna’s eyes. She there and then stripped, threw herself onto the bed and lying spread-eagled said to Nergal: “Come and get it. Let’s seal our pact with a round of earthshaking intimacy!”
NERGAL SLAMS MARDUK
Like his father Enki, Marduk did not bear grudges. In terms of kindliness, it was Marduk of Enki’s five surviving sons who was very much like him. Nergal was the coldest and harshest Enkite. But Marduk received him very warmly in his Esagil temple-house, formally and cheerfully introducing him to his officials as his beloved immediate young brother.
Before they sat down for talks, Marduk took Nergal on a conducted tour of Babylon, showing him the great water infrastructure he had put in place. At least at face value, Nergal was wowed. He told his brother the waterworks and the uninterrupted power supply surely had made him “shine as a star in the heavens”. But, Nergal regretted in the same breath, it was all done with utter disregard for other cities. “Whilst you have lit it up your sacred prencincts and sophisticated your city, the Abode of Anu (Uruk) with darkness is covered. The other gods are seething. You cannot go against the will of Anu and other gods.”
Marduk’s response was that since there was havoc all around Sumer, it behoved him to rebuild his city to ready it for that day when it would be the capital of the world. “In the aftermath of the Deluge, the decrees of Heaven and Earth had gone astray. The cities of the gods upon the wide Earth were changed around; they were not brought back to their locations … As I survey them again, of the evil I am disgusted: without a return to their original places, mankind's existence is diminished. Rebuild I must my residence.”
A case can be made, General Atiku, that history’s most infamous Roman is Pontius Pilate. It was Pilate who condemned Jesus, the “Son of God”, to the most cruel, most barbaric, and most excruciating of deaths – crucifixion – and cowardly at that as the gospels attest for us.
Yet the exact circumstances under which the crucifixion took place and what followed thereafter far from jells with what is familiarly known. The fact of the matter was that there was a lot of political wheeling and dealing and boldfaced corruption on the part both of the Jewish authorities and the Roman establishment in the person of Pontius Pilate. In this piece, we attempt, General, to present a fuller photo of Pilate as the centre of the whole machination.
Pilate’s historicity, General, is not in doubt. In 1961, an Italian archeologist unearthed a limestone block at Caesarea Maritima on the Mediterranean coast of Israel, which as of 6 AD was the Roman seat of government as well as the military headquarters. The block bore the inscription, “Pontius Pilate, the Prefect of Judea, has dedicated this Temple to the divine Augusti” (that is, then Roman Emperor Tiberius Caesar and his wife Livia).
Pilate also gets varying degrees of mention in the works of Roman senator and historian Cornelius Tacitus (56-117 AD); the Hellenistic Jewish philosopher and chronicler Philo of Alexandria (25 BC to 50 AD); and the legendary Jewish historian Flavius Josephus (37-100 AD).
Although his year of death (37 AD) is documented, his year of birth is a matter of conjecture, General. He came from the Pontii tribe (hence the name Pontius), a tough, warlike people. The Pontii tribe was of the equestrian class, the second-tier in the Roman caste system. Originally, the equestrians were those Romans with ample pocket power to bribe their way to knightly ranks in the Roman army. Pilate was born to Marcus Pontius, who had distinguished himself as a general in Rome’s military campaigns.
Following one of his particularly sterling military exploits, Marcus was awarded with the Pilum (javelin), a Roman decoration of honour for heroic military service. To commemorate this medal of valour, the family took the name Pilati, rendered Pilate in English and Pilatus in Latin.
The son, Lucius Pontius Pilate, also distinguished himself as a soldier in the German campaigns of Germanicus, a prominent general of the early Roman Empire. Thanks to his scintillating military profile coupled with strategic connections in the hierarchies of the Roman government, Pilate was able to wend his way into the heart of Claudia, the granddaughter of Caesar Augustus, the founder of the Roman Empire and ruler from 27 BC to 14 AD.
Claudia’s mother was Julia the Elder, who was also the biological mother of the apostles John and James. When Claudia was about 13 years of age, Julia sent her to Rome to be reared in the courts of Emperor Tiberius Caesar, to whom Julia was once married from 11 BC to 6 BC.
Although Tiberius was not the biological father of Claudius, General, he gladly acquiesced to being her foster father in deference to the memory of her late grandfather Caesar Augustus. Pilate arrived in Rome when Claudia was sixteen years of age. In AD 26, the two tied the knot. Needless to say, it was a marriage based not on love as such but on political opportunism.
The high-placed connection who facilitated Pontius Pilate’s smooth landing into the inner sanctums of Rome’s royalty and put him on a pedestal that saw him take pride of place in the cosmic gallery of rogues was Aelius Sejanus. Like Pilate, Sejanus came from the subordinate equestrian class, who would never be eligible for a seat in the Senate, the legislative council of ancient Rome.
Sejanus, however, had over time become Emperor Tiberius’ most trusted lieutenant and to the point where he was the de facto prime minister. He had been commander of the Praetorian Guard, the elite Special Forces unit created by Augustus Caesar as a personal security force, which developed under Sejanus’ command into the most significant presence in Rome.
In AD 26, the emperor was not even based in Rome: he had confined himself to the 10.4 km2 island of Capri, about 264 km from Rome, and left control of Rome and the government of the Roman Empire to Sejanus. It was Sejanus who recommended the appointment of Pilate as prefect, or governor/procurator of Judea. The appointment was pronounced right on the occasion of Pilate’s nuptials with Claudius.
Philo records that when the bridal party emerged from the temple where the marriage ceremony was celebrated and Pilate started to follow the bride into the imperial litter, Tiberius, who was one of the twelve witnesses required to attend the ceremony, held him back and handed him a document. It was the wedding present – the governorship of far-flung Judea – with orders to proceed at once to Caesarea Maritima to take over the office made vacant by the recall of Valerius Gratus.
Pilate was notified by Sejanus that a ship was in fact waiting upon him to transport him to Palestine right away. The only disadvantageous aspect about the assignment was that Pilate was to leave the shores of Rome alone, without the pleasure of spending a first night in the arms of his newly wedded wife: by imperial decree, the wives of governors were not allowed to accompany them in their jurisdictions. Pilate, however, was a royal by marriage and so this prohibition was waived. By special permission granted by His Imperial Majesty Tiberius Caesar, Claudia soon joined her husband in Judea. The wily Pilate had calculated well when he married into royalty.
A SADISTIC ADMINISTRATOR
The Judean perch was not prestigious though, General. The prefects of Judea were not of high social status. At least one – Felix, referenced by Luke in the Acts of the Apostles – was an ex-slave, which says a great deal on the low regard in which the province was held by Rome.
Pilate was only secondarily sent to Judea on account of having married into royalty: his posting to the volatile province stemmed, primarily, from his being of a inferior social pedigree. Be that as it may, Pilate relished the posting in that it gave him the chance to exercise power, absolute power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and in Pilate was the archetypal example, General.
Pilate’s brief was simple: to collect taxes, maintain law and order, maintain infrastructure, and keep the population subdued. Although he was born lowly, he positively had the power of life and death over his Jewish subjects. Let us, General, listen to Josephus in his allusion to Coponius, Judea’s first Roman governor and who like Pilate was from the same subservient social class: “And now Archelaus’ part of Judea was reduced into a province and Coponius, one of the equestrian order among the Romans, was sent as procurator, having the power of life and death put into his hands by Caesar.”
Pilate, General, was callous to a point of being sadistic. He was scarcely the scrupling judge with the rare soft spot that we encounter in the gospels. Philo charges him with “corruptibility, violence, robberies, ill-treatment of the people, grievances, continuous executions without even the form of a trial, endless and intolerable cruelties”.
He further declares him to be a “savage, inflexible, and arbitrary ruler” who was of a “stubborn and harsh quality” and “could not bring himself to do anything that might cause pleasure to the Jews”. The essentially humane character of the Pilate who presided over the trial of Jesus as portrayed in the gospels may not be wholly fictitious but is highly embellished, General.
Why did Pilate have such a pathological hatred of the Jews, General? Sejanus had more to do with it than the spontaneous leanings of his own nature. According to Philo, Sejanus hated the Jews like the plague and wished “to do away with the nation” – to exterminate it. In AD 19, for instance, he forced the Jews in Rome to burn their religious vestments and expelled them from the city without much ado.
For as long as Sejanus was in power, General, Pilate could do pretty much as he pleased. He didn’t have to worry about compromising reportage reaching the emperor as everything went through the implacably anti-Jewish Sejanus. Sejanus was unrivalled in power: golden statues of the general were being put up in Rome, the Senate had voted his birthday a public holiday, public prayers were offered on behalf of Tiberius and Sejanus, and in AD 31 Sejanus was named as Consul jointly with Tiberius.
The Judea posting also gave Pilate a golden opportunity to make money – lots of it. The governors of the Roman provinces were invariably rapacious, greedy, and incompetent: this we learn not only from Jewish historians of the day but from contemporary Roman writers as well such as Tacitus and Juvenal.
As long as the money skimmed from the provinces was not overly excessive, governors were allowed a free hand. It is said of Emperor Tiberius that, “Once he ordered a governor to reverse a steep rise in taxes saying, ‘I want my sheep shorn, not skinned’!” For those governors, such as Pilate, who had support from the very acmes of Roman power, General, they were practically a law unto themselves.
PILATE’S WINGS ARE CLIPPED
Pontius Pilate, General, was untrained in political office. Furthermore, he was a sycophant to the core who was prepared to go to any length in a bid to curry favour with and prove his loyalty to the powers that be in Rome. Both these attributes gave rise to a series of blunders that brought him the intense hatred of the Jews.
The first abomination he committed in the eyes of the Jews, General, was to set up a temple dedicated to Emperor Tiberius, which he called the Tiberieum, making him the only known Roman official to have built a temple to a living emperor. True, Roman emperors were worshipped, but Tiberius was the one exception. According to the Roman scholar and historian Suetonius, Tiberius did not allow the consecration of temples to himself. Pilate’s act therefore, General, was an overkill: it was not appreciated at all.
Throughout his tenure, General, Pilate had a series of run-ins with the Jews, some of which entailed a lot of bloodshed and one of which sparked an insurrection that paved the way to Calvary. Then it all began to unravel, General. On October 18 AD 31, his patron Sejanus was summoned to the office of Emperor Tiberius and an angry denunciation was read out to him. It is not clear, General, what caused Sejanus’ fall from the emperor’s good graces but circumstantial evidence points to the perceived threat to the emperor’s power.
As the ancient historian Cassius Dio puts it, “Sejanus was so great a person by reason both of his excessive haughtiness and of his vast power that to put it briefly, he himself seemed to be the emperor and Tiberius a kind of island potentate, inasmuch as the latter spent his time on the island of Capri.” Sejanus, hitherto the most powerful man in Rome, General, was thrown into a dungeon.
That same evening, he was summarily condemned to death, extracted from his cell, hung, and had his body given over to a crowd that tore it to pieces in a frenzy of manic excitement. His three children were all executed over the following months and his wife, Tiberius’ own daughter, committed suicide. The people further celebrated his downfall by pulling his statues over. Meanwhile, General, Tiberius began pursuing all those who could have been involved in the “plots” of Sejanus.
In Judea, Pilate, a Sejanus appointee, must have been badly shaken, General. Were his friends and family under suspicion? Would he be purged like others? Imperial attitudes to the Jewish race seemed to have changed now with the riddance of Sejanus. Tiberius made sure this was the case by appointing a new governor for Syria (who went by the title Legate and to whom Pilate was obligated to report).
The governor, Lucius Pomponius Flaccus, arrived in Rome in AD 32. Philo records that Tiberius now “charged his procurators in every place to which they were appointed to speak comfortably to the members of our nation in the different cities, assuring them that the penal measures did not extend to all but only to the guilty who were few, and to disturb none of the established customs but even to regard them as a trust committed to their care, the people as naturally peaceable and the institution as an influence promoting orderly conduct.”
So Pilate, General, had lost his supporters at the top, his new boss was on his doorstep, and there had been a change of policy regarding the very people he was in charge of. Surely, he would have to watch his step. The fact of the matter, however, General, was that he hardly did so. In November 32 AD, for instance, he provoked a mini-uprising by the Zealots led by Judas Iscariot, Theudas Barabbas, and Simon Zelotes. It was this revolt, General, that culminated in those three “crosses” of Calvary that are indelibly etched on the mind of every Christian.
Until as recently as the 1980s a career often meant a job for life within a single company or organisation. Phrases such as ‘climbing the corporate ladder’, ‘the glass ceiling’, ‘wage slave’ & ‘the rat race’ were thrown about, the analogies making clear that a career path was a toxic mix of a war of attrition, indentured drudgery and a Sisyphean treadmill.
In all cases you fought, grafted or plodded on till you reached retirement age, at which point you could expect a small leaving party, the promise of a pension and, oddly, a gift of either a clock or watch. The irony of being rewarded with a timepiece on the very day you could expect to no longer be a workday prisoner was apparently lost on management – the hands of time were destined to follow you to the grave!
Retirement was the goal at the end of the long, corporate journey, time on your hands – verifiable by your gifted time keeping device – to spend time working in the garden, playing with the grandchildren, enjoying a holiday or two and generally killing time till time killed you.
For some, retirement could be literally short-lived. The retirement age, and accompanying pension, was predicated on the old adage of three scores years and ten being the average life expectancy of man. As the twentieth century progressed and healthcare became more sophisticated, that former mean average was extended but that in itself then brought with it the double-edged sword of dementia. The longer people lived, the more widespread dementia became – one more life lottery which some won, some lost and doctors were seemingly unable to predict who would succumb and who would survive.
However, much research has been carried out on the causes of this crippling and cruel disease and the latest findings indicate that one of its root causes may lie in the former workplace – what your job entailed and how stimulating or otherwise it was. It transpires that having an interesting job in your forties could lessen the risk of getting dementia in old age, the mental stimulation possibly staving off the onslaught of the condition by around 18 months.
Academics examined more than 100,000 participants and tracked them for nearly two decades. They spotted a third fewer cases of dementia among people who had engaging jobs which involved demanding tasks and more control — such as government officers, directors, physicians, dentists and solicitors, compared to adults in ‘passive’ roles — such as supermarket cashiers, vehicle drivers and machine operators. And those who found their own work interesting also had lower levels of proteins in their blood that have been linked with dementia.
The study was carried out by researchers from University College London, the University of Helsinki and Johns Hopkins University studying the cognitive stimulation and dementia risk in 107,896 volunteers, who were regularly quizzed about their job. The volunteers — who had an average age of around 45 — were tracked for between 14 and 40 years. Jobs were classed as cognitively stimulating if they included demanding tasks and came with high job control. Non-stimulating ‘passive’ occupations included those with low demands and little decision-making power.
4.8 cases of dementia per 10,000 person years occurred among those with interesting careers, equating to 0.8 per cent of the group. In contrast, there were 7.3 cases per 10,000 person years among those with repetitive jobs (1.2 per cent). Among people with jobs that were in the middle of these two categories, there were 6.8 cases per 10,000 person years (1.12 per cent).
The link between how interesting a person’s work was and rates of dementia did not change for different genders or ages.Lead researcher Professor Mika Kivimaki, from UCL, said: ‘Our findings support the hypothesis that mental stimulation in adulthood may postpone the onset of dementia. The levels of dementia at age 80 seen in people who experienced high levels of mental stimulation was observed at age 78.3 in those who had experienced low mental stimulation. This suggests the average delay in disease onset is about one and half years, but there is probably considerable variation in the effect between people.’
The study, published this week in the British Medical Journal, also looked at protein levels in the blood among another group of volunteers. These proteins are thought to stop the brain forming new connections, increasing the risk of dementia. People with interesting jobs had lower levels of three proteins considered to be tell-tale signs of the condition.
Scientists said it provided ‘possible clues’ for the underlying biological mechanisms at play. The researchers noted the study was only observational, meaning it cannot establish cause and that other factors could be at play. However, they insisted it was large and well-designed, so the findings can be applied to different populations.
To me, there is a further implication in that it might be fair to expect that those in professions such as law, medicine and science might reasonably be expected to have a higher IQ than those in blue collar roles. This could indicate that mental capacity also plays a part in dementia onset but that’s a personal conclusion and not one reached by the study.
And for those stuck in dull jobs through force of circumstance, all is not lost since in today’s work culture, the stimulating side-hustle is fast becoming the norm as work becomes not just a means of financial survival but a life-enhancing opportunity , just as in the old adage of ‘Find a job you enjoy and you’ll never work another day in your life’!
Dementia is a global concern but ironically it is most often seen in wealthier countries, where people are likely to live into very old age and is the second biggest killer in the UK behind heart disease, according to the UK Office for National Statistics. So here’s a serious suggestion to save you from an early grave and loss of competencies – work hard, play hard and where possible, combine the two!
The gospels which were excluded from the official canon, the New Testament, at the Council of Nicaea are known as the Apocrypha. One of these Apocryphal works, General Atiku, is the gospel of Phillip. In this gospel, the intimate relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene is openly discussed thus:
“And the companion of the Saviour is Mary Magdalene. But Christ loved her more than all the disciples and used to kiss her often on the mouth. The rest of the disciples were offended by it and expressed disapproval. They said unto him, why do you love her more than all of us? The Saviour answered and said to them, why do I not love you like her? … Great is the mystery of marriage, for without it the world would never have existed. Now, the existence of the world depends on man, and the existence of man on marriage.”
It is clear from the above statement, General, that Jesus held marriage in high regard because he himself was part and parcel of it. The disciples (that is, most of them) were offended not because he and Mary were an item but because they simply did not approve of her as she was a Gentile and a commoner.
Otherwise, the kissing was not offensive at all: it was a customary expression of mutual affection between the sacred bride and groom. This we gather from the prototypically romantic Old Testament text known as The Song of Solomon, which opens with the words, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.” As the Davidic groom, Jesus was therefore entitled to kiss Mary Magdalene as his bride.
THE FIRST MARRIAGE
In September AD 30, General Atiku, Jesus and Mary Magdalene had their First Marriage ceremony. Jesus had turned 36 in that year, the appropriate marriage age for a Davidic heir, and September was the holiest month in the Jewish calendar. Having been born irregularly himself (in the wrong month of the year because of his father Joseph’s intransigence), Jesus was determined that he himself follow the law to the letter so that his child would not suffer the same indignities as he did. The First Marriage is captured in LUKE 7:35-50.
The marriage took place at the home of Simon the Pharisee. This, General, was another name for Simon Zelotes, the stepfather of Mary Magdalene. Although Mary Magdalene is not directly named, she is described as a “sinner”. This was another term for Gentiles, as in the eyes of the Jewish God, they were unregenerate and therefore hopeless sinners. Mary Magdalene, whose mother Helena-Salome was of Syrian origin (Syro-Phoenicia to be specific), was a Gentile.
On the occasion, Mary Magdalene performed three acts on Jesus as set out in LUKE 7:38. She wept; kissed his feet; and anointed him with ointment. This is what a bride was supposed to do to her groom as clearly evinced in The Song of Solomon, a series of love poems concerning a spouse and her husband the King.
Of the three rites, perhaps it is the weeping that require elucidation, General. This was at once symbolic and sentimental. The First Marriage was simply a ceremony: the moment the ceremony was over, the husband and wife separated, that is, they lived apart until the month of December, when they came together under one roof. This was in accord with Essene stipulations for dynastic marriages, that is, those of the Davidic Messiah and the priestly Messiah.
Prior to the First Marriage, the bride was known as an Almah, meaning a betrothed Virgin. After the First Marriage ceremony, the Almah was demoted to a Sister. This was because the ensuing three-month separation meant husband and wife would not indulge in sexual activity and so the wife was as good as a sister to her husband. The imagery of Sister also being a wife is seen in 1 CORINTHIANS 9:5, where the apostle Paul refers to his wife as Sister. In ACTS 23:16, Paul’s wife is again referred to as his Sister.
Now, when the Almah became a Sister, General, she was metaphorically called a Widow, because she was being separated from her newly wedded husband. As such, she was expected to symbolically weep on account of this separation. That explains why Mary Magdalene had to weep at her first wedding. It is a pity, General, that most Christians and their clergy miss the real story so wrongly indoctrinated are they.
In December AD 30, Jesus moved in with Mary Magdalene to consummate the marriage. It was hoped that Mary would fall pregnant so that in March the following year, a Second (and final) Marriage ceremony would be held. Sadly, conception did not take place. According to Essene dynastic procreational rules, the couple had to separate again. They would reunite in December AD 31 for another try at conception.
The reason they separated was because for a dynastic heir, marriage was purely for procreation and not for recreational sex. But even that year, General, Mary did not fall pregnant, necessitating another year-long separation. What that meant was that Mary would be given one more last chance – in December AD 32, by which time Jesus would have been 38. If she did not conceive this time around, the marriage would come to an end through a legal divorce and Jesus would be free to seek a new spouse.
THE FINAL MARRIAGE
In December 32, Mary Magdalene, General, finally conceived. When Jesus was crucified therefore in April 33 AD, his wife was three months pregnant. By this time, the Second Marriage ceremony, the final one, had already taken place, this being in March. The Second Marriage is cursorily related in MATTHEW 26:6-13; MARK 14:3-9; and JOHN 12:1-8.The John version reads as follows:
“Jesus, therefore, six days before the Passover, came to Bethany, where was Lazarus, who had died, whom he raised out of the dead; they made, therefore, to him a supper there, and Martha was ministering, and Lazarus was one of those reclining together (at meat) with him; Mary, therefore, having taken a pound of ointment of spikenard, of great price, anointed the feet of Jesus and did wipe with her hair his feet, and the house was filled from the fragrance of the ointment.
Therefore said one of his disciples – Judas Iscariot, of Simon, who was about to deliver him up – ‘Therefore was not this ointment sold for three hundred denaries, and given to the poor?’ and he said this, not because he was caring for the poor, but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and what things were put in he was carrying. Jesus, therefore, said, ‘Suffer her; for the day of my embalming she has kept it, for the poor you have always with yourselves, and me you have not always.’”
This story (also see JOHN 11:1-44) centres on four people primarily, General. They are Jesus; Lazarus; Mary; and Martha. “Mary” was actually Mary Magdalene. “Martha” was a titular name for her mother, Helena-Salome. In the Lazarus story, the two ladies are referred to as “sisters”. This denotes conventual sisters, like the Catholics refer to conventual nuns, and not sisters by blood. Helena-Salome actually headed a nunnery. By the same token, the reference to Lazarus as “brother” has a connotation akin to what Pentecostals refer to as “Brother in Christ”.
Thus, the story revolves around Jesus the groom; his bride Mary Magdalene; his father-in-law Simon Zelotes; and his mother-in-law Helena-Salome. This is a family affair folks, which provides strong hints as to the exact relationship between Jesus and Mary. The raising from the dead of a man called Lazarus, sadly, was not a miracle at all: it was a ceremonial restoration from excommunication back to the Essene governing council, which comprised of Jesus and his so-called 12 disciples.
The “Lazarus” who was thus restored was actually Simon Zelotes, at the time the most “beloved” by Jesus of the entire apostolic band, who had been demoted under circumstances relating to a Zealot uprising against Pontius Pilate. More will be said on the subject at a later stage.
The anointing of Jesus by Mary with “spikenard”, General, harps back to ancient married rituals as patently demonstrated in The Song of Solomon. This was the second time Mary had anointed Jesus, first at the First Marriage in September AD 30 AD and now at the Second Marriage in March 32 AD. On both occasions, Mary anointed Jesus whilst he sat at table.
In SONG OF SOLOMON 1:12, the bride says, “While the King sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof”. The anointing in the gospels was therefore an allusion to the ancient rite whereby a royal bride prepared her groom’s table. Only as the wife of Jesus and as a priestess in her own right could Mary Magdalene have anointed both the feet and head of Jesus.
The anointing in effect had two purposes: first, to seal the marriage, and second, to officially announce to the Jewish nation that Jesus was the Davidic Messiah (and not his younger brother James, who had been so promoted by John the Baptist). It all harped back to the tradition in ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, where Kings or Pharaohs were anointed for office (in their case with crocodile fat) by their half-sister brides.
The King’s bride actually kept the anointment substance for use for one more time – when the King died. You can now understand, General, why Jesus said “the day of my embalming she has kept it” in reference to his anointing by Mary Magdalene and why the first person to feature at the tomb of Jesus was none other than Mary Magdalene!
Three passages in the Lazarus story (in JOHN11: 1-44) are particularly telling. They are Verses 20, 28, and 29. They read as follows: “When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed in the house … After Martha said this, she went back and called her sister Mary privately. ‘The Master is here,’ she told her, ‘and is asking for you.’ When Mary heard this, she got up and hurried out to meet him.” The reason Mary (Magdalene) first kept her place before proceeding to meet Jesus, General, is not supplied in the Johannine gospel.
However, the Apocryphal document which has come to be known as The Secret Gospel of Mark sheds more light, General. It explains that on the first occasion, Mary did come out to meet Jesus along with her mother Martha (Helena-Salome) but upon being rebuked by the disciples of Jesus, she repaired back to the house. Why was she lashed out at, General? Because according to the Essene matrimonial code, she was not permitted to come out of her own accord and greet her husband: she was to wait until he had given her express permission to emerge.
There is yet another element in the conduct of Mary Magdalene that has parallels with Solomon’s queen, General. In the back-and-forth romantic dialogue between the couple, the queen is referred to as a “Shulamite” (SONG OF SOLOMON 6:13). The Shulamites were from the Syrian border town of Solam and we have already seen that Mary’s first foster father, Syro the Jairus, was a Syrian, as was her mother Helena-Salome.
JUDAS DENOUNCES THE MARRIAGE
The marriage of Jesus to Mary Magdalene was vehemently opposed by most of his so-called disciples. The most vociferous on this position, General, was Judas Iscariot. The writer of the John gospel characterises Judas as a “thief” who used to pilfer alms money but that is a smear. The gospels were written post-eventual and therefore Judas’ name was already in ignominy.
His detractors therefore had a field day at sullying his character. Yet prior to the betrayal, Judas Iscariot, General, was one of the most respected figures among the Essene community. At the time of Jesus’ marriage, Judas was the second-highest ranking Essene after Simon Zelotes (that is the meaning of “Judas of Simon” in the passage quoted above, meaning “Judas the deputy of Simon”): Jesus was third, although politically he was the seniormost.
Judas opposed the marriage on grounds, primarily, that Mary Magdalene was not only a Gentile but a commoner. Judas had the right to pronounce on Jesus’ marriage because it was he who was in charge of the Essene’s order of Dan, to which Mary Magdalene belonged prior to her marriage to Jesus and therefore had the right whether to release her for marriage or retain her in the convent. Judas would rather the spikenard (the most expensive fragrance of the day, the reason it was only used by queens) was sold and the money generated donated to the Essene kitty (“the poor” was another name for Essenes: when Jesus in the Beatitudes said “blessed are the poor”, he was not referring to you and me: he meant the Essenes).
Sadly General, as high-standing as he was, Judas had no right of veto over the marriage of a Davidic heir: only Simon Zelotes had by virtue of his position as the Essene’s Pope. Simon Zelotes was Mary Magdalene’s step-father and there was no way he was going to stand in the way of the marriage of his own daughter. Moreover, Jesus had already begun to fancy himself as Priest-King.
As far as he was concerned therefore, he was at once the Davidic Messiah and the Priestly Messiah – the Melchizedek. Thus even if Simon Zelotes had perchance objected to the marriage, Jesus would have gone ahead with it anyway. It was Jesus’ highly unpopular appropriated role as the Melchizedek, General, that set him on the path to Calvary.