Solving The Mystery of "Why Are We Here?"
Thoughts from a Gnostic perspective
Today’s Gnostics offer a range of theories about our existence. Some propose we are farmed for our emotions, feeding some extraterrestrial entity a substance known as “loosh.” Others see life as an evolutionary struggle — a fight to overcome nature and limitation. Still most, though less dramatic, insist that the “why” of our existence on Earth remains a mystery, inviting wild speculation.
Yet, by contrast, those of the Abrahamic faiths express total certainty: our purpose is “to glorify God.”
Now, at first, this phrase seems so vague and cryptic as to be meaningless. Thinking about it in traditional Abrahamic terms yields little result. But, if we strip back certain assumptions away from the Abrahamic God, and reduce the concept to its simplest form, something clicks:
The material universe — what we call "creation" — is inherently nothing. It holds no meaning, no moral weight, and no value unless Self-Consciousness observes and assigns it significance.
Yet, self-consciousness does not naturally arise from matter. Matter relies on something foreign — something more real than itself — to perceive and internalize it. And, it is this act of conscious recognition is that gives the universe substance.
In Abrahamic traditions, this role belongs to "God." But, even within those belief systems, this "God" does not seem satisfied merely observing its creation.
Instead, it seems to need something.
Specifically, it seems to need worship — it seeks validation; the favorable recognition and response of other Self-conscious beings to its creation. And perhaps, in this, the phrase “to glorify God” begins to make sense.
In Gnostic cosmology, the Demiurge — the Abrahamic God — exists in isolation from The Fullness, wherein the Alien God's emanations exist. We are described as stolen beings — kidnapped from that reality and cast into this vast wasteland we call "Earth" and "the universe."
In an original act of idolatry, we were focused into the material world and charged with exploring its every crevice.
But, it would seem like, through this process, we do more than merely experience the physical realm: we integrate it into the higher reality from which we come. Our awareness, our perceptions, and our need to be liberated draw pleromic attention to the demiurgic realm, forcing it into the gaze of something greater. And, in doing so, this world is elevated, making it more and more real as it invades higher and higher levels of reality.
This, I believe, is what it truly means to glorify God — not to worship mindlessly, but to lift the Demiurge up beyond its stature, legitimizing its creation through our experience of it.
Like captives trapped in a deranged person's "museum," we are a link to the outside world; a means of "making a statement" or sending a message. And, crucially, what the Demiurge demands of us is a mark of approval — that we claim that its creation is "Good."
So, what are we to do with this?
In truth, only one path makes sense: escape — and die trying.
We either break the cycle of reincarnation through Gnosis, or we elevate the material realm itself — transforming it from the inside out. That is: we flee our captor, knowing it may retaliate against the rest; or we turn and face it, overpower it, and lock it away, reshaping this cosmic art museum into something decent.
Gnosis — personal, inner knowledge of the divine and of reality's true nature—is radically individual. It cannot be achieved through shared faith or good deeds; only through private reflection. And, historically, most Gnostics pursued only this path: spiritual escape. They saw the world as a trap and focused solely on their own liberation. But, while this spiritual lone-wolf stance made sense in an age of religious persecution, it led to cultural isolation and ideological death. Gnosticism was buried, twisted, and lost for centuries.
Now, Gnosticism is emergent — a recurring truth that reasserts itself across time and space. Even still, it would be a mistake for 20th Century Gnosticism not to learn from what came before. Rather than viewing time in the material realm as meaningless or disposable, we might see it, instead, as an opportunity — a chance to rebel, repair, and ready ourselves and others for action.
This is the second path: not just escape, but hylevatesis — the reformation of matter itself. Think of it as a rescue mission. Think of it as establishing checkpoints for other Selves who couldn’t escape fast enough. Or, a way to reduce needless suffering while we’re still here.
And, we will be here — most likely longer than we expect. So, rather than sprinting for the exit without a plan, we should prepare. That means building Gnostic community and infrastructure. It means aggregating resources, forming networks of Gnostic power, and influencing the world through Gnostic lenses and ideals. It means building the checkpoints — for each other and for ourselves.
Administer the medicine. Shore up the shelters. Teach the map. Try again.