In Genesis (book of beginnings, collected c. 8th century BCE), in the story of Abram/Abraham—as Abram the character personifies the Life Principle within the primal energies of Creative Source—and is depicted later as Abraham and has been instructed by god to sacrifice his “only begotten son” Isaac. Apparently god simply wanted to test Abraham’s loyalty, for nothing suggests that Isaac was to be offered up as a sin offering. That Abraham’s son was to be a burnt offering in this account is a strong clue to the story’s original meaning, which has been consistently disregarded. To repeat, this story is in the book of Genesis, the book of beginnings. The clue which is hidden in plain sight is that the primal elements that expand as life have to be activated by radiation. Isaac, personifying the advancing (evolving) Life Principle out of Source, represents the prototype stage of energy development and so has already passed the primal stage where radiation occurs. Therefore Isaac is “saved” because the prototypal elements are already activated to pass over into his intended matter-life form.
In myths of many ancient people, the sons of divine characters demonstrated the interrelationship that exists between man and the creative Source. For example, the Greek myth of Herakles, Latinized as Hercules, came into recognition in Rome c 400 BCE. Herakles/Hercules, according to legend, was the semi-divine son of the god Zeus/Jupiter and Alcmene. Hercules exemplified the indomitable resolve of spirit in pursuit of divine excellence which wins immortality. The Greek cult gained a foothold in Rome, and because Hercules was a hero and not a god, there were no temples erected to him. There was, however, an altar for him which was known as Ara Maximus. Roman legend asserted that Hercules visited Italy when returning from the raid on the cattle of Geryon where he had slain the monster Cacus, who had been terrorizing the people there.
There were corresponding myths and legends among many cultures. According to pre-Christian Roman myth, Saturn offered to sacrifice his “only begotten son,” Chronos (time), to his father Uranus (the personification of primordial energy conditions). Even older myths of India relates that Siva, third god of the Hindu triad, was about to sacrifice his son to the god on a pyre (radiation) when the god regretted his demand and so sent a rhinoceros as substitute for sacrifice. All such myths simply illustrated the sequence of elementary energies evolving toward denser configurations as life formations. Thus these creative primal energies are discarded and can be said to be “slain from the foundations of the world”. These myths illustrate Pagan wisdom which became modified as bogus spiritual “revelations” for later faith system leaders.
The king or the king’s son, it was thought, had to die physically if the welfare of the people became threatened because the king (and his son) was a god or a demigod, and as a divine representative departed this material plane in order for the needs of the people to be calculated in heaven. The son was seen to serve a supernatural function because he shared the creative impulse (divine afflatus) of his father.
Philo of Byblos (flourished between 64 and 141 CE), in his work on the Jews recorded: “It was an ancient custom in a crisis of great danger that the ruler of a city or nation should give his beloved son to die for the people, as a ransom offered to the avenging demons; and the children thus offered were slain with mystic rites. So Cronus, whom the Phoenicians call Israel, being king of the land and having an only begotten son called Jeoud (for in the Phoenician tongue Jeoud signifies ‘only begotten’…”) was ceremoniously slain. In other words, this Jewish tradition of the king’s only begotten son became reworked in Christian myth as a sin offering for the world.
These traditions of offerings of a king’s only begotten son in perilous times held strong influence over the general populace throughout the eastern Mediterranean region long before the timeframe set for Jesus. For example, after Jerusalem fell to the Romans in 60 BCE, which was due to a power struggle between the sons of the recently deceased King Aristobulus, the Roman general Pompey installed one of the king’s sons, Hyrcanus, as High Priest. The other son, Antigonus, and his two sons were taken to Rome as prisoner displays of Pompey’s triumph. Twenty years later, 40 BCE, Antigonus, back in Jerusalem, managed with the aid of Rome’s enemies the Parthians, to drive Herod, the Roman governor, from Jerusalem. Antigonus then ruled in Jerusalem as the last Hasmonean priest-king until 37 BCE when Marc Antony seized Antigonus.
Thus in the continuing struggle of the Jews to disassociate themselves from Rome, when their priest-king was taken by Marc Antony in 37 BCE, the event was viewed by the Jewish people as a portrayal of the royal sacrificial rite for the redemption of the people. Remember, among the people of this timeframe it was believed that no rite held more august power to gain a god’s favor than the sacrifice of the king’s son. In his short reign Antigonus even had his two sons slain, presumably as sacrificial offerings for the peoples’ welfare. Herod, who had been ousted as Roman governor of Jerusalem, found this to be appalling, and it was at his request that Marc Antony was prompted to capture Antigonus again. To the Jewish people these happenings seemed to be another reenactment of the holy mystery ritual. Antigonus was viewed as another embodiment of the divine son taken for sacrifice to redeem his people: he was scourged, bound to the stake, and then beheaded. This was high drama that the Roman aristocrats and literary elite would not forget.
Approximately 70 years later another Jewish man is alleged to have voluntarily taken on the sacrificial role to redeem not just the Jewish people, but all sinners who became Christians. The fourth Gospel, John, written c. 105-106 CE, summed it up this way: (John 3:16) “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whoever believe in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
In the Christianized version of the ancient “Pagan” understanding of “only begotten son,” the agonizing sacrifice allegedly demanded by god is portrayed as a tragic episode of Greek drama proportions. The loving “Father,” whom Jesus had so repeatedly praised, remained unmoved by his own son’s plea: “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.” (Matthew 26:39, written 70-75 CE) The Father is the declared Creator of all things, and nothing is impossible for him to accomplish. Nonetheless, the Father remained resolute in a stubborn demand that the son should forfeit his physical life to cleanse sin from all those who believed in Jesus. “God so loved the material world,” Gospels tell us, that he made his son pay for it. This is theology at its worst.
The ancient Pagan sages better understood the working principles responsible for Creation. The word from which “only begotten” was derived equates with the Greek word gene—the mono-gene; the singular Life Principle through which all life is made manifest as physical form. The Life Principle strives to fulfill life’s higher potential, which can never be achieved in this lower energy plane of course matter. Figuratively speaking, the Life Principle voluntarily nails itself to matter manifestation (cross) to advance the refinement of spirit (energy identity). Only allegorically can this be likened to a sin offering. Understanding the symbolism within this story makes the horrific climax of the passion play more acceptable.