The Black Sun and the Hidden Priesthood.
- Michelle Hayman
- May 7
- 25 min read
History is often written in palimpsest — layers of belief, power, and symbolism built atop each other, where what is visible today conceals deeper, older meanings. This article presents a theory: that hidden beneath the institutions of power in Europe — including the SS, the Vatican, the Knights of Malta, and even the British monarchy — lies a long-standing pagan ideology opposed to the covenantal God of the Bible, hostile to both Judaism and early Christianity.
Using documented history, religious texts (especially the King James Bible), and symbolic connections, this article explores how figures like Heinrich Himmler envisioned a new pagan order rooted in ancient Germanic traditions and how echoes of that priesthood can be seen in institutions that still hold global sway today.
Heinrich Himmler and the SS as a Pagan Priesthood
Heinrich Himmler, head of the Schutzstaffel (SS), was not merely an administrator of Nazi terror; he was also the architect of a new spiritual vision. To Himmler, the SS was not just a military unit—it was the embryonic form of a sacred order, one that would supplant Christianity and usher in a revival of ancient Germanic paganism. His goal was the resurrection of a pre-Christian, racially pure faith rooted in ancestral myth, natural law, and sacred symbolism.
Central to this vision was Wewelsburg Castle, which Himmler acquired in 1934. He envisioned the site as the ideological and ceremonial heart of the SS—a spiritual center from which the future order would radiate. The castle was heavily renovated to reflect this purpose, with its North Tower transformed into a symbolic axis mundi. In the tower’s Hall of the Supreme SS Leaders, a now-infamous mosaic was installed in the marble floor: the Black Sun. This symbol, composed of twelve radial sig runes forming a sun wheel, was not a historical relic but a modern construction, designed to invoke ancient solar worship and align the SS with esoteric energy and myth. The symbol has since become synonymous with occult movements, but its original purpose was to represent a mystical source of power—a black sun, hidden yet all-pervasive, that would illuminate the future of the Aryan race.
Himmler’s spiritual outlook was inseparable from his veneration of the Germanic "mother earth," (similar to the Pachamama honoured by the Vatican in its gardens in 2019, and later thrown in the Tiber).
A deity-like concept embodying racial fertility, ancestral memory, and the sacredness of soil.
At the core of this Nazi ideology lay a deeply spiritualized belief: that race and land were bound by fate, ancestry, and divine right. This belief crystallized into the doctrine of “Blood and Soil” (Blut und Boden), which elevated racial lineage as sacred and tied it to a mystical connection with the land. In this worldview, territory was not merely something to be conquered or cultivated—it was consecrated ground, infused with the blood of ancestors and, symbolically, under the favour of ancient powers often associated with pagan deities or even fallen angels.
To serve and protect it was both a national duty and a spiritual calling. Agricultural cycles, solstices, and harvest festivals were elevated to religious significance, echoing pagan traditions that had long since been marginalized by Christianity. These state-sponsored rituals were intended to replace Christian holidays, recentering the calendar around solar and earth-based rhythms.
Underlying much of this pagan revival was the influence of Ariosophy, a mystical-racial philosophy that emerged in Austria and Germany in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Ariosophy, formulated by figures such as Guido von List and Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels, fused Theosophical teachings with Germanic mythology and racial theory. It promoted the belief that ancient Aryans were spiritually superior beings (the seed of the serpent) whose wisdom and power had been lost or suppressed over the centuries—particularly by Christianity, which was seen as both Semitic in origin and corrupted by weakness and humility. Himmler absorbed these ideas selectively, emphasizing aspects that elevated the Aryan race as a spiritually elect group destined to reclaim their forgotten heritage.
Far from being simple propaganda, this ideology functioned as a kind of theology—a counterfeit gospel of race and soil. It preached that only those of pure Aryan blood had the right to inherit and sanctify the earth, casting the land itself as a spiritual inheritance, and all outsiders as defilers of something sacred. In this fusion of myth, mysticism, and militarism, the Nazi regime built its vision of empire not only with weapons and laws, but with a religious fervor that replaced the God of Scripture with the gods of blood, ancestry, and earth.
It offered a vision of divine destiny rooted in biology and geography, where the Aryan bloodline was mystically linked to the German land. Those who were of the “right” lineage were seen as born to inherit and cultivate the land, while others—Jews, Slavs, Roma, "Christians?"—were cast as intruders, polluters, and parasites.
The term “Blood and Soil” carried both nationalistic and spiritual connotations. “Blood” represented racial ancestry, an obsession with genealogy and the purity of Germanic lineage, while “Soil” signified the sacredness of the land, especially rural farmland believed to nourish and preserve that race. Together, they formed an unbreakable covenant—a counterfeit covenant—between people and place, framed as natural law. In Himmler’s vision, this was a spiritual order, one that aimed to replace Judeo-Christian ethics with a new pagan priesthood devoted to race and earth.
This ideology was more than rhetoric. It manifested in concrete policies. German citizens were encouraged to return to the countryside. Farming was glorified as the holiest occupation. The peasantry was exalted as the purest form of Volk, rooted in ancestral soil and free from the “decay” of urban, cosmopolitan life. A spiritual war was waged, not only against rival ideologies but against lineages that were considered unclean—especially the Jews, whose faith and genealogical claims to covenant posed a direct challenge to this racial gospel.
(Could this also shed light on the recent changes to farming laws implemented by the EU?)
But while Nazi Germany’s version was uniquely violent and biologically charged, the concept of spiritual dominion through land ownership and lineage is not exclusive to the 20th century. It echoes centuries of ecclesiastical empire-building, most notably that of the Roman Catholic Church, whose seizure and sanctification of land under spiritual authority laid the groundwork for a different kind of dominion—a dominion not of race, but of religious control masquerading as divine right.
For centuries, the Catholic Church amassed land holdings across Europe and the world, operating under the doctrine that the Church is the rightful heir to all earthly dominion through Christ’s “vicar,” the pope. This claim was not symbolic. It was legal, political, and financial. By the Middle Ages, the Church was the largest landowner in Europe. Through papal bulls and decrees, kings were crowned or excommunicated based on their allegiance to Rome, and territories were granted, seized, or blessed under ecclesiastical sanction. The very idea of papal infallibility extended to the authority to divide continents—as seen in the 1494 Treaty of Tordesillas, where pope Alexander VI gave Spain and Portugal dominion over lands not even yet “discovered.”
Herein lies the disturbing parallel: both systems—Nazi “Blood and Soil” and Roman ecclesiastical land theology—operated on the premise that land was sacred only when controlled by the right bloodline or the right spiritual authority. Both saw covenant not as a relationship with God, but as a claim of inheritance: racial for the Nazis, clerical for the Church. Both removed God’s law in favour of human institutions. Both replaced the covenant of faith with a structure of dominion—one built on DNA, the other on dogma.
In the biblical view, the land belongs to God and is entrusted to His people as a covenantal promise—not for exploitation, not for racial preservation, but for righteousness, justice, and obedience. But whether through Himmler’s pagan priesthood or the Church’s temporal empire, that covenant was co-opted. The land was taken, not in faith, but in power. Bloodlines were used not to preserve the line of Messiah, but to justify separation, control, and extermination.
However, to serve and protect it was both a national duty and a spiritual calling. Agricultural cycles, solstices, and harvest festivals were elevated to religious significance, echoing pagan traditions that had long since been marginalized by Christianity. These state-sponsored rituals were intended to replace Christian holidays, recentering the calendar around solar and earth-based rhythms.
Underlying much of this pagan revival was the influence of Ariosophy, a mystical-racial philosophy that emerged in Austria and Germany in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Ariosophy, formulated by figures such as Guido von List and Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels, fused Theosophical teachings with Germanic mythology and racial theory. It promoted the belief that ancient Aryans were spiritually superior beings (the seed of the serpent) whose wisdom and power had been lost or suppressed over the centuries—particularly by Christianity, which was seen as both Semitic in origin and corrupted by weakness and humility. Himmler absorbed these ideas selectively, emphasizing aspects that elevated the Aryan race as a spiritually elect group destined to reclaim their forgotten heritage.
So when the Church aligned with fascist regimes, when it participated in or stood silent during acts of mass displacement and genocide, it was not simply a failure of charity—it was the culmination of centuries of land-centered dominion theology. The theology of empire, whether Roman or Reich, has always demanded land and lineage. But it has never demanded covenantal faithfulness. And without that, no authority on earth can claim to represent God.
The true kingdom of God is not inherited through race or ecclesiastical rank. It is entered by those who do the will of the Father—those who honour His commandments, His sabbaths, and His covenant. All other thrones, no matter how golden, are built on sand.
This worldview manifested in the SS through an elaborate symbolic system. Himmler adopted and reinterpreted ancient runes, assigning them mystical meanings and integrating them into SS insignia, rituals, and indoctrination materials. The double Sig rune, used as the SS emblem, was believed to represent victory and energy, while other runes such as Hagal were employed in divinatory practices and initiations. These runes functioned as sacred signs, giving the SS a quasi-religious language that distinguished its members from the ordinary population and linked them to a spiritual past.
More than just a symbolic order, the SS under Himmler was constructed as an initiatory brotherhood. Its members were subject to strict genealogical scrutiny, with only those of "pure" Aryan ancestry permitted to join. Marriage rituals were reimagined in pagan forms, with vows made not before God but before nature and ancestry. SS officers were trained not only in combat but in mythology, racial theory, and runic lore. Himmler envisioned a future in which these men would serve as high priests of a new religious order, blending political power with spiritual authority.
In Himmler’s view, even death held ritualistic importance. He saw fallen SS soldiers not as casualties, but as martyrs—sacrificial figures who would ascend to a mythic afterlife akin to Valhalla. This mirrored ancient Norse warrior beliefs and starkly contrasted with the Christian vision of salvation through grace and faith. In this way, Himmler’s SS was not just at war with enemies on the battlefield, but with the theological foundations of Christianity itself.
Could Werner von Bülow’s World-Rune-Clock—which maps correspondences between Guido von List’s Armanen runes, the zodiac signs, and the deities of the months—serve as a visual key to understanding Germanic mysticism? This esoteric system, promoted by Bülow and the society over which he presided as Grand Master, mirrors symbolic structures found within the Catholic Church, where zodiac imagery subtly appears in cathedral architecture, sacred art, and liturgical calendars, suggesting a deeper syncretism between astrological symbolism and ecclesiastical tradition
The Vatican and Ancient Priesthood Structures
The idea that religious institutions carry forward ancient symbols beneath a veneer of new doctrine is not novel, but when applied to the Vatican, this continuity of form takes on a particularly potent theological weight. The Roman Catholic Church, in its hierarchy, regalia, and ritual, often mirrors the very imperial and religious systems that the early Church once resisted. Its symbols evoke both reverence and scrutiny—especially when those symbols have roots far older than Christianity.
A powerful example of this is the monstrance, a golden, radiant vessel used to display the consecrated Host (identical to the Babylonian sun symbol linked to the fallen angel) during Eucharistic adoration.
Its design—rays of light bursting from a central circular core—clearly mimics solar imagery. Though they say it is intended to signify the glorified Christ, the visual language is identical to ancient sun disks found in Egyptian, Babylonian, and Indo-European religious traditions. It is this overlap in symbolic language—solar glorification—that invites deeper theological analysis. Similar imagery was embraced by Heinrich Himmler and the SS, who installed the Black Sun mosaic into the ceremonial floor of Wewelsburg Castle.
Both the monstrance and the Black Sun center around a luminous disc, radiating power, order, and transcendence. Despite their opposing creeds—one "Christian", the other neo-pagan—they appear to speak in a common symbolic dialect, one that centers worship and authority around the sun.
And let us not overlook the position of the Black Pope, operating behind the scenes—could he be a living symbol of the Black Sun?
This symbolic convergence extends beyond the SS. It finds chilling resonance in the Vatican’s historic ties with the Sovereign Military Order of Malta, known as the Knights of Malta. In 2013, the Vatican formally celebrated 900 years of the Order’s existence, praising its longevity and contribution to global humanitarian efforts. But beyond its diplomatic functions and humanitarian facade lies a deeply esoteric symbol: the eight-pointed white cross on a red field.
While typically interpreted as a Christian cross of resurrection and rebirth, the structure of the eight-pointed star or cross is ancient and layered with meaning.
In Babylonian and Mesopotamian religious systems, the eight-pointed star was associated with Ishtar (Inanna), the goddess of war, fertility, and cosmic cycles—an archetype linked to the morning star. In later traditions, especially Gnostic and occult texts, the eight-rayed star becomes associated with hidden or forbidden knowledge, the illumination of the soul, and Lucifer, whose name literally means “light-bringer.” The Latin Vulgate renders Isaiah 14:12 as "Lucifer qui mane oriebaris"—“Lucifer, who didst rise in the morning”—a reference to the fallen morning star, whose desire to ascend the heavens became a symbol of rebellion and counterfeit light.
By the medieval period and in esoteric circles, the eight-pointed star or radiant cross was adopted in various alchemical, Rosicrucian, and occult traditions as a symbol of enlightenment, astral influence, and in some cases, Luciferian gnosis.
Its recurrence in both ancient pagan worship and modern elite institutions cannot be overlooked as a mere aesthetic choice. In this interpretive light, the eight-pointed cross of the Knights of Malta may be seen as a co-opted symbol of divine rebellion—one rebranded under Christian banners but maintaining its older, hidden significance.
This interpretation aligns with the figure of Shamsiel, the “sun of God,” listed in the Book of Enoch as one of the fallen Watchers who taught forbidden knowledge to humanity. Shamsiel is a solar entity, a transmitter of divine secrets not sanctioned by God. In apocalyptic theology, this act of illumination outside the divine order parallels the very rebellion for which Lucifer fell.
These themes—solar reverence, hierarchical priesthood, the possession of secret or sacred knowledge—run in parallel through both Catholic liturgical structure and the mytho-political ideologies of esoteric groups. The cardinals, referred to as “princes of the Church,” mirror a celestial aristocracy. The pope, seated upon a throne, acts not only as Christ’s vicar (meaning in place of) but, symbolically, as a solar monarch—crowned, enthroned, and garbed in radiant vestments.
When seen through this lens, the overlap between Catholic ceremonialism, solar symbolism, and Luciferian motifs suggests not merely appropriation, but a potentially deliberate layering of theological and esoteric messages. The morning star, once a title for Christ (Revelation 22:16), is also used for Lucifer (Isaiah 14:12), revealing the danger of dual-symbol usage—where light can stand for salvation or deception, depending on its source.
Thus, the question arises: when institutions preserve symbols with such ambiguous—and at times antithetical—spiritual meanings, are they preserving truth, or encoding a hidden narrative beneath the surface? Is the light they elevate the light of God, or a counterfeit illumination long warned about in prophetic Scripture?
“And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.” — 2 Corinthians 11:14
The persistent use of solar imagery, eight-pointed stars, hierarchical elitism, and the mediation of “hidden knowledge” through priesthood structures invites sober theological reflection. While these institutions claim continuity with Christ, the visual and symbolic language they speak may be far older—and far more subversive—than commonly understood.
Suppression of Biblical Christianity
The Desposyni and Their Silencing
One of the most crucial yet often overlooked historical developments in early Christianity is the suppression of the Desposyni—the direct blood relatives of Jesus Christ. The term “Desposyni” derives from the Greek desposynos, meaning “of the Lord,” and refers to Christ’s family members through His mother Mary and His legal brothers, such as James the Just, whom ancient sources identify as His brother (adelphos in Greek, not merely a “spiritual” brother).
In previous discussion, we established that the early Church in Jerusalem was not led by Peter, nor by any Roman-appointed bishop, but by James, the brother of the Lord. Eusebius of Caesarea, the fourth-century Church historian, quoting earlier Christian writers like Hegesippus, confirms that James the Just was the first bishop of Jerusalem, and held authority not by papal appointment, but by virtue of his close relationship to Jesus, his righteousness, and his direct witness of Christ’s teachings, death, and resurrection. This is important: according to Acts 1:21–22 and other apostolic writings, an apostle had to be an eyewitness of the resurrected Christ to have legitimate apostolic authority. By that standard, the Desposyni—those who both grew up with Jesus and saw Him after the resurrection—would have been the most qualified apostles of all.
Yet the Roman Church would later erase, obscure, or marginalize the Desposyni. The Council of Nicaea (325 AD), convened under Emperor Constantine, marked a dramatic shift in Church governance. Constantine sought a unified, hierarchical Church—one that could stabilize the empire through religious control. But the authority of Jesus' biological family, particularly James and his successors, represented a threat to this newly forming imperial priesthood. According to early sources like Epiphanius of Salamis, the Desposyni were not invited into the emerging imperial church councils. They were eventually exiled or silenced, and their historical memory displaced by Roman and Greek bishops.
What followed was a theological coup: Peter, once regarded as the apostle to the Jews (Galatians 2:7), was retroactively promoted as the founder of the Roman Church and the first pope. This, despite clear biblical testimony from Paul’s letter to the Galatians, which states that Peter (Cephas) was entrusted with the gospel to the circumcised (i.e., Jews), not to the Gentiles. It was Paul, not Peter, who was called to be the apostle to the Gentiles. Yet over time, the Roman Church elevated Peter’s symbolic primacy to justify an unbroken apostolic line through Rome—a claim that ignores the bloodline apostles and contradicts the structure and spirit of the early Church.
The Break with Jewish Roots
The marginalization of the Desposyni coincided with a broader theological severing of Christianity from its Jewish roots. The first-century church kept the Sabbath (Saturday), observed the Feasts of the Lord, and revered the Torah—not for salvation, but as a covenantal expression of obedience and identity. Jesus Himself declared that He did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it (Matthew 5:17), and His earliest followers, including James, continued to honor these practices in Jerusalem (see Acts 21:20).
But under Constantine’s rule, the Sabbath was replaced by Sunday, renamed the “venerable day of the sun.” This change was not based on Scripture but on imperial decree. Constantine, though later baptized, remained deeply influenced by solar cults, particularly Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun. By merging Christianity with Roman sun worship, Constantine achieved his political goal: a unified religious system that served imperial power. But the cost was immense—the early Church’s covenantal faithfulness was supplanted by syncretic ideology.
The imposition of Sunday worship, enforced through edicts like Constantine’s 321 A.D. decree, systematically erased the biblical Sabbath, a commandment explicitly stated as a “perpetual covenant” in Exodus 31:16–17. This was not a small shift—it was a replacement of God’s sign between Himself and His people with a solar imperial substitute.
By erasing the Desposyni, the institutional Church eliminated those who could claim legitimate, familial authority over the teachings of Christ. James, as Jesus' brother, understood His words not through translation or political filters, but through direct, relational proximity. Early Christian writers such as Hegesippus, quoted by Eusebius, not only confirm James’ leadership but also emphasize his righteousness, his Nazarite vows, and his role as the pillar of the Church in Jerusalem. His martyrdom—stoned to death by the Temple leadership—further sealed his status as a true shepherd of God’s people, yet modern Church history treats him as a footnote.
The erasure of James and his bloodline successors served a clear purpose: it allowed the Roman Church to construct a lineage of spiritual authority disconnected from both Jewish covenant and biological apostleship, and to install a political hierarchy in its place. The true "royal priesthood" of believers (1 Peter 2:9) was replaced with an elite, clerical ruling class, supported by imperial force and theological innovation, rather than apostolic fidelity.
In light of this, the early institutional Church appears less as a natural evolution of apostolic Christianity and more as a calculated transformation—a merger of imperial ambition with symbolic authority, rooted not in Scripture or blood witness, but in political convenience. The suppression of the Desposyni, the replacement of the Sabbath, and the exaltation of Peter in Rome all served one goal: to consolidate religious power under an earthly throne, even at the cost of silencing the very family of the Messiah.
Theological Rejection of Hierarchical Priesthood
At the heart of the New Testament vision for the people of God is a radical and liberating declaration found in 1 Peter 2:9:
"But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light..."
These words, penned by the Apostle Peter himself, completely dismantle the notion of a spiritual hierarchy mediating between God and the believer. The verse makes clear that every true Christian is a priest—not by birth, wealth, or church office, but by covenant with Jesus Christ. The body of believers collectively forms a royal priesthood, where each member has direct access to God through Christ, the eternal High Priest (Hebrews 4:14–16).
This scriptural truth renders the concept of an ecclesiastical elite—such as popes, cardinals, or mitred bishops—not only theologically unnecessary but spiritually deceptive. The Vatican’s prince-cardinal structure, with its cloistered conclaves, elaborate vestments, and Latin rituals, is a direct contradiction to the humble, accessible, Spirit-led priesthood described in the New Testament. The very notion that a small group of men in scarlet robes can “vote” for the next representative of Christ on earth is not only absent from Scripture, but also an affront to the royal priesthood of all believers.
Even more critically, this hierarchy claims to speak in the name and authority of Peter—the very apostle who rejected the kind of religious elitism that the Church of Rome has institutionalized. The irony is stark: the Church claims Peter as their first pope, yet Peter himself explicitly taught that there are no longer mediating priest-kings on earth, for all believers are kings and priests under the lordship of Christ.
This theological illegitimacy becomes even clearer when we examine the Roman Catholic Church’s relationship to God’s covenantal commandments—especially the fourth commandment, the Sabbath. According to Exodus 31:16–17, the Sabbath is not merely a Jewish tradition; it is a perpetual covenant, a divine sign between God and His people for all generations:
“Wherefore the children of Israel shall keep the sabbath, to observe the sabbath throughout their generations, for a perpetual covenant. It is a sign between me and the children of Israel for ever...”
Yet the Roman Catholic Church, by its own admission, abolished the seventh-day Sabbath (Saturday) and instituted Sunday as the new day of worship—not by scriptural mandate, but by ecclesiastical authority. Constantine’s fourth-century edict officially established Sunday as the “venerable day of the sun,” while Catholic councils and catechisms later affirmed the change as a mark of the Church’s power.
This act alone—the abrogation of a divine commandment—nullifies any claim the Church might make to represent the God of Israel. As the Apostle James makes clear:
“For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.” — James 2:10
To break the Sabbath commandment is to break the law of God in totality. Therefore, any institution that not only breaks, but institutionalizes and enforces the breaking of this covenantal sign cannot rightly claim to represent God. God does not make covenant with lawbreakers, nor does He place His authority on institutions that glorify disobedience.
The Roman Church’s claims to apostolic succession, mediated through Peter, are built not on obedience but on hierarchical tradition and syncretism. The current body of cardinals who elect the pope do so without any biblical mandate, without Sabbath faithfulness, and without the indwelling of the Spirit evident through obedience to God’s law (1 John 2:3–4). They are, by biblical definition, lawless stewards, holding a form of godliness but denying its power (2 Timothy 3:5).
Moreover, by assuming the title of "Holy Father"—a title Jesus warned not to attribute to any man (Matthew 23:9)—the pope claims a position that no man, not even Peter, dared to take. This self-exaltation mirrors the pattern of Lucifer, who sought to ascend above the stars of God (Isaiah 14:13), to be like the Most High. When a religious institution dares to elevate itself above the Word of God, replace His commandments, and silence the priesthood of the saints, it takes upon itself the spirit of antichrist, not the Spirit of Christ.
By contrast, the biblical Church operates on a flat, Spirit-filled model of mutual accountability and shared priesthood. There is one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus (1 Timothy 2:5). All believers are to walk in holiness, truth, and obedience to God’s commandments—not under human authorities, but under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Peter’s declaration in 1 Peter 2:9 is not a poetic flourish; it is a theological revolution. It declares the end of a clerical caste, the abolition of priest-kings on earth, and the inauguration of a new covenant priesthood, where each believer walks in the authority and calling of God, not through mitres and thrones, but through humility, faithfulness, and obedience.
In summary, the Roman Catholic Church, through its abandonment of the true Sabbath, its creation of a priestly aristocracy, and its exaltation of papal authority, has forfeited any legitimate claim to represent Christ or His apostles. The royal priesthood remains not in Rome, nor in its conclaves, but in every faithful believer who walks in the light of God’s commandments, keeps His covenant, and testifies of Jesus Christ—“the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” (John 1:9)
Conclusion: Symbol, Power, and the War on Christianity
When we connect the dots — from Himmler’s reconstructed pagan priesthood, to solar symbolism in Catholic and occult tradition, to the rejection of biblical Sabbath, to the silencing of Jesus’ family — a picture emerges: one of systematic replacement of God’s covenant with elite-controlled religion masked in ancient symbols.
This is not mere conspiracy — this is historical, symbolic, and theological investigation. The real question is not who wears the mitre or the cross, but who truly honours the eternal covenant made with God’s people.
And we must not overlook the efforts of various popes and theologians to reconcile the biblical Creation account with Darwinian evolution—a compromise that raises serious theological contradictions. Darwin’s theory asserts that humanity originated from the sea, evolving from aquatic life forms, while the Bible clearly states that man was formed from the dust of the ground (Genesis 2:7)—clay, into which God breathed the breath of life. This is no minor detail; Scripture describes the life of man as sacred, with gold symbolically flowing through his blood, a likely reference to both divine value and covenant purity (see Job 23:10; Malachi 3:3).
So what does it mean when an institution that claims divine authority promotes a creation narrative rooted in the sea, in direct contradiction to the Word of God? Could this reflect an allegiance to another origin—another bloodline? The same Aryan obsession with genealogical testing in Himmler’s SS to ensure racial “purity” begs the question: were they protecting not merely heritage, but identity? Could this be the “other seed”—the seed of the serpent (Genesis 3:15)—a lineage not born of covenantal clay, but from the deep, the abyss, the sea?
The Hidden Campaign Against Covenant Roots: Church, Crown and Reich
Medieval Church Decrees: Laying a Foundation of Antisemitism
The Roman Catholic hierarchy long institutionalized anti-Jewish bigotry as dogma. As early as 1215, the Fourth Lateran Council decreed that “Jews and Saracens…in every Christian province” be “distinguished…by a difference of dress,” and even forbidden to be in public during Holy Week. The Church effectively proclaimed itself the “New Israel,” branding Judaism an “aberration from the Divine Will”. Early Church Fathers like Augustine formalized the idea that Jews should exist only as a “degraded state” and living witnesses to Christian truth. Centuries of papal policies (forced baptisms, ghettos, ghetto badges, expulsions) flowed from this theology. In effect, every council canon and papal bull reinforced a narrative of Jews as cursed deicides; biblical promises were claimed for the Church while all God’s warnings to Israel were applied to the Jews. This ecclesiastical agenda set the stage for national persecutions and fed into later genocidal ideologies, as Hitler would later exploit.
After 1945, evidence shows Vatican clergy helped bundle Nazis to safety. The network began in Rome, with pro-Nazi clerics like Bishop Alois Hudal (an Austrian rector of a Vatican seminary) clandestinely issuing travel documents to fugitive SS officers. Hudal openly boasted of aiding war criminals – he personally smuggled Treblinka’s Franz Stangl, Sobibor’s Gustav Wagner, Drancy commander Alois Brunner, Ardeatine massacre runner Erich Priebke and even Adolf Eichmann out of Europe. At the same time, Croatian Franciscan priests at the Vatican’s own San Girolamo seminary ran a sophisticated ratline for Ustaše and Nazi fugitives. U.S. reports noted large numbers of war criminals “not actually sheltered” at San Girolamo still “enjoy[ed] Church support and protection”. By 1946 Argentina openly solicited Nazis – sending word through Argentine Cardinal Antonio Caggiano – and the first fugitives arrived carrying Vatican- or Red Cross–issued papers. In sum, archival and eyewitness accounts make clear that ultra-conservative Vatican circles “fostered” ratlines for fascists even as public history denies direct papal orders.
None of this occurred in a vacuum. Hitler’s own ideology was predicated on wiping out the Jewish covenant lineage. In a 1939 Reichstag speech he explicitly warned that war would mean “the annihilation of the Jewish race in Europe”. This was no empty threat: from 1941 on, Nazi Germany implemented the Final Solution, a state-sponsored plan “to eliminate Europe’s Jewish population,” culminating in the systematic murder of about six million Jews. Nazi propaganda fused traditional Christian slanders (the deicide charge, blood libels, the Devil’s minions) with modern racial science, casting Jews not merely as religious outcasts but as an existential peoplehood that must be entirely removed. The result was a coordinated machinery of genocide that murdered “all the descendants of the Abrahamic covenant” from Poland to France.
Even the British monarchy’s pedigree links it to these dynamics. The current House of Windsor traces its male line to the German Saxe-Coburg and Gotha family (changed to “Windsor” only in 1917 to mask its German blood). Blood ties to the Continent aside, English kings historically derived authority through the Church as much as by divine right. Famously, in 1213 King John bowed to Pope Innocent III – surrendering England and Ireland to the pope as a “feudal dependent” of the Roman Church. In effect, medieval English (and later British) coronations were not direct biblical covenants but ceremonies legitimized by the Vatican. Even today the Vatican appoints a representative to the coronation of Britain’s sovereign. Thus the crown’s lineage and anointment have long been entangled with Rome.
“For all nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath of her fornication, and the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her, and the merchants of the earth are waxed rich through the abundance of her delicacies.”
— Revelation 18:3, KJV
The 1933 Reichskonkordat: A Treaty of Recognition
Just months after Hitler’s rise, the Vatican signed a concordat granting mutual rights to Church and Reich. On July 20, 1933, Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli (future pius XII) signed the Reichskonkordat on behalf of pope Pius XI, with Vice-Chancellor Franz von Papen signing for President Hindenburg and Nazi Germany. That simple act – the first official treaty between the Vatican and Hitler’s government – effectively acknowledged and bolstered the Third Reich’s legitimacy. Critics note that this concordat was ratified just after Hitler had seized dictatorial powers, and “has been described…as giving moral legitimacy to the Nazi regime”. Under the agreement the Church agreed to stay out of politics, and in return Catholics won token protections. But the public face of formal diplomacy disguised a chilling reality: the Vatican was, even if unintentionally, the first sovereign power to shake hands with the Nazis, brushing aside the Prophets in favour of political order.
What we are witnessing is not simply religious divergence — it is the systematic eradication of true, covenantal Christianity, severed from its Hebraic foundations. Christianity was born out of the faith of Abraham, the Torah of Moses, and the teachings of a Jewish Messiah who kept the Sabbath, honoured the Feasts of the Lord, and upheld the eternal covenants of Israel. Yet what has emerged over the centuries is an institution claiming to represent Christ while breaking the very sign of God's covenant — the Sabbath — and replacing it with the sun-day of imperial Rome.
Once that covenant sign was broken (Exodus 31:16–17), so too was any legitimate spiritual authority. God does not endorse covenant-breakers as His representatives. Nowhere in Scripture do we see the anointing of a pope. There is no biblical basis for a central religious monarch, crowned by men, who rules over the body of Christ as if Christ Himself had abdicated. The creation of such a position was a manmade construct, born not from the Spirit, but from Rome's imperial need for control.
This raises a deeper and more provocative question: who, then, are the bloodline that requires genealogical testing to confirm their purity? In Himmler’s SS, racial purity was a sacred law. In ancient Rome and medieval aristocracies, noble blood was guarded through carefully recorded lineages. These were not mere cultural obsessions — they reflect something ancient, something spiritual. Could it be that this “other bloodline,” arising from the coastal regions once inhabited by the Kittim — from Cyprus to Rome, through Germany, France, Britain, and into Russia — is the very lineage described in the War Scroll of the Dead Sea Scrolls?
In that apocalyptic text, the Kittim are named as the Sons of Darkness — coastal, imperial powers who rise against the Sons of Light in a final cosmic conflict. Their dominion is marked by oppression, deception, and war. They are not spiritual heirs of Abraham, but another seed entirely — possibly the seed of the serpent, the ancient adversary of God's people (Genesis 3:15).
If so, then we must ask: are the true Sons of Light — those who keep God's commandments and hold to the testimony of Jesus (Revelation 12:17) — now living under the oppression of rich, noble families who carry the bloodline of rebellion? Families whose power has dominated church, crown, and commerce for centuries? The symbolism is consistent, the history is traceable, and the theology is unavoidable.
True Christianity is not found in robes, mitres, or conclaves, but in obedience, humility, and covenant faithfulness. And as Scripture promises, the remnant — those who keep the commandments of God and the faith of Yeshua — will prevail. But first, the lineage of the serpent must be exposed, not merely in myth, but in history, blood, and power.
"And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues."
— Revelation 18:4, KJV
Finally, consider Heinrich Himmler’s SS, which inverted the biblical covenant of lineage. Instead of identifying God’s chosen by faith or tribe, the SS demanded “blood certificates” to prove Aryan purity. By 1931 Himmler issued a marriage order forcing all SS recruits to submit family trees proving both bride and groom were of Aryan descent back to 1800; even a single non-Aryan ancestor meant exclusion. Every SS man was issued a Sippenbuch, a personal genealogical dossier detailing his “genetic history”. Thus, the Nazi vision of a “covenant” was racial, not spiritual. Biblical Israel’s covenant was according to “faith and promise,” but the SS covenant was written in DNA and ancestry books. Ironically, Himmler saw himself fighting a pseudo-religious battle (“racial purity”) against what he called the “Jewish-Bolshevik revolution” – casting Jews not just as political enemies but as biological pollutants.
Taken together, these threads reveal a grim tapestry. From medieval councils and papal treaties to bankers and SS genealogists, institutional powers—churchly, royal, financial, and national-socialist—acted in concert (intentionally or not) to sever Israel’s ancestral roots. The Vatican’s longstanding anti-Jewish dogma gave way to diplomatic pacts with Hitler; papal emissaries aided fascists fleeing justice. Meanwhile, kings and magnates took religion in hand, making their crowns and ledgers instruments against the Hebrew covenant. Even in apocryphal prophecy, Rome itself is cast as darkness (the enemies who “destroy and eliminate” Israel). In the “exposé” view, it all looks like a coordinated purge of Judeo‑Christian roots – a centuries-long conspiracy of throne, altar and race. Whether coincidence or conspiracy, the facts speak for themselves: the alliance of spiritual, imperial and racial authorities nearly extinguished the blood and faith of Abraham’s seed.
It raises a sobering question: Could the plagues described in the book of Revelation be more than symbolic? Are modern pandemics — and the global response to them, including mass vaccination campaigns — part of a broader agenda to alter or suppress the purity of the human bloodline as created by God? In a world increasingly defined by synthetic interventions and genetic manipulation, one must ask whether these measures serve public health — or something far more calculated.
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