by Lucille Alabaster | Lucy’s Inferno
Long before incense filled cathedrals, the ancient world was lit by smoke of a different kind.
Before priests wore collars, they wore garlands — and their sacraments didn’t come from sermons, but from plants.
The Bible as we know it has been sanitized, stripped of its hallucinatory origins. Yet beneath the layers of translation and doctrine lies something wild, shamanic, and chemically divine.
Take Moses — a man who spoke to fire that didn’t burn.
Scholars like Benny Shanon of Hebrew University have suggested the burning bush may not have been metaphorical at all, but an acacia tree rich in dimethyltryptamine — the same molecule found in ayahuasca. The voice of God may have been the voice within, amplified by sacred alkaloids the desert had to offer.
The prophets didn’t trip by accident — they traveled.
Isaiah’s visions of seraphim, Ezekiel’s spinning wheels of fire, John’s apocalypse of beasts and eyes — these aren’t delusions of grandeur. They’re descriptions of expanded consciousness, encoded in poetry so the uninitiated wouldn’t burn the texts.
The early Mystery Schools — Eleusinian, Essene, and Egyptian — used the same methods under different names: ergot, lotus, mandrake, and myrrh. Each one a portal. Each one a communion with something beyond the self.
To ingest was to know.
To refuse was to remain asleep.
Then came empire.
Rome, the Church, the State — each step of “civilization” diluted the sacraments and replaced them with metaphor. Bread and wine became symbols instead of experiences. Revelation became heresy. The psychedelic was recast as satanic.
But the real fall from Eden wasn’t a bite of forbidden fruit — it was the day humanity stopped eating the fruit of knowledge itself.
Every psychedelic revival is a return to the Garden.
Every mushroom, every vine, every seed that opens the third eye is a rebellion against amnesia. The body remembers what the dogma erased: that God is not out there. God is in the bloodstream, the breath, the biofield.
The Bible was never meant to be read.
It was meant to be experienced.
And now, as the old order crumbles and the forbidden sacraments rise again — in clinics, in rituals, in living rooms lit by blue screens — we’re remembering what they worked so hard to make us forget:
That the kingdom of heaven was always chemical.
And the temple was always the body.
✦ The Luminara Temple ✦
Guard the Gates. Free the Mind.
lucysinferno.com
