Under the rule of Augustus Caesar (63 BC – AD 14), Rome underwent a significant religious revival, marked by the restoration of Jupiter’s worship. As the self-proclaimed Pontifex Maximus, Augustus not only governed the empire but also controlled its religious life, reinforcing the imperial cult and devotion to the chief deity, Jupiter Optimus Maximus (the sky god). This was the very emperor under whom Jesus Christ entered the world, yet there is an eerie silence in contemporary records about Christ’s early life during Augustus’ reign.
Augustus lived until AD 14, meaning that the Messiah would have been approximately 17 or 18 years old at the time of his death. During these formative years, Rome was fully immersed in what historians call the "Augustan Renaissance," a religious and cultural revival that sought to restore devotion to Jupiter and the traditional Roman gods. But what makes this even more striking is that Jupiter, the supreme god of Rome, is the equivalent of Osiris, the Egyptian deity from whom God once rescued His people during their enslavement in Egypt.
If Jupiter was merely another manifestation of the ancient false gods, then Christ’s arrival during this time was not coincidental—it was a divine confrontation between the one true God and the prince of the power of the air (Ephesians 2:2).
We recognize him as Satan, a name that translates to "adversary."
Christ did not come into a neutral world; he entered history at a time when Rome was actively reviving the worship of Jupiter, whom many would recognize as the father of the Roman pantheon—a god who, like Osiris and Baal, represented false dominion over the earth. The very empire that was exalting Jupiter as supreme was the one into which God Himself incarnated to redeem His people from spiritual bondage.
Revelation tells us that Christ will return again, but this time not as a suffering servant, but as the ultimate Judge. The same world that bowed to Jupiter, that executed Christ, and later claimed to be the authority of His Church, remains steeped in deception.
If Rome truly converted to Christianity, why did the Bishop of Rome—the pope—take the title Pontifex Maximus, a title once held by the high priest of Jupiter? If the Pontifex Maximus originally presided over Jupiter’s temple on Capitoline Hill (where ritualistic human sacrifices took place), why would the supposed representative of Christ bear the very same title?
Osiris-Ra and Jupiter: The Same Deity Under Different Names
The presence of Egyptian obelisks throughout Rome, particularly in front of major Christian and governmental sites, is more than just an architectural curiosity. These towering monoliths were originally dedicated to Ra, the Egyptian sun god, and closely associated with Osiris, the god of the underworld and resurrection. Their relocation to the heart of Rome—and their continued prominence in Vatican City—raises serious questions about the spiritual continuity between ancient Egyptian and Roman religious systems.
In Egyptian mythology, Osiris and Ra were often seen as two aspects of the same divine force. Osiris ruled the underworld and was believed to resurrect souls, while Ra, the supreme solar deity, represented the eternal power of the heavens. Over time, these two gods became merged into a singular concept—Osiris-Ra, the god of kingship, the afterlife, and divine authority. When Rome absorbed Egyptian influence, Osiris-Ra was syncretized with Jupiter, the chief god of the Roman pantheon.
Jupiter, like Ra, was a sky god, a king of gods, and the divine protector of rulers. His temple on Capitoline Hill was the most sacred site in Rome, much like the great temples of Ra in Heliopolis, Egypt. The Pontifex Maximus, Rome’s highest religious official, oversaw Jupiter’s worship, just as Egypt’s high priests served Ra. This same Pontifex Maximus title was later adopted by the pope, suggesting a seamless continuation of religious authority under a different name.
The Egyptian obelisks standing in Rome today were not placed there by accident. Each one, once dedicated to Ra, was brought from Heliopolis—the city of the sun god—and positioned in places of imperial and papal power.
The Vatican Obelisk, for instance, originally stood in Heliopolis, the very center of Ra’s worship, before being transported by Caligula and eventually positioned in "St. Peter’s Square".
The Lateran Obelisk, the largest of its kind, was also taken from Egypt and placed near what would later become the residence of the popes.
Why would the center of Christianity be adorned with monuments dedicated to Ra, the sun god? The answer lies in the unbroken lineage of Roman religious power. The same empire that worshipped Jupiter—who was an iteration of Osiris-Ra—never truly abandoned its gods. Instead, their symbols, rituals, and priesthood were simply absorbed into what we now recognize as the "Holy" Roman Church.
The Roman Religion That Never Ended
Throughout history, religious transformations have often been less about true change and more about adaptation. Nowhere is this more evident than in the transition from ancient Rome’s religious system to what we recognize today as the Roman Catholic Church. While many assume that Rome abandoned its polytheistic traditions with the advent of Christianity, a closer look at history—particularly through texts like The Religion of Numa—suggests otherwise. The worship of Jupiter and the religious structures of the Roman state were not eliminated; they were simply absorbed, renamed, and continued under a new guise.
In ancient Rome, every man was believed to have a Genius, a spiritual force representing his essence and procreative power, while every woman had a Juno, a divine counterpart tied to her existence. These were not just guardian spirits but were central to the individual’s religious life. They symbolized continuity, lineage, and divine connection to the Roman state.
This concept finds a parallel in Catholic saint veneration. Just as Romans once invoked their Genius or Juno for guidance, Catholics today pray to patron saints, seeking intercession and divine favour. The transition from Roman spiritual doubles to Christianized guardian figures suggests that the ancient pagan worldview remained intact, merely disguised under Christian names.
Roman households had their own deities—the Lares and Penates—which were worshipped to ensure protection and prosperity. These gods (fallen angels) were not distant figures but integral parts of daily life, guarding the home, the farm, and eventually the entire state. Every household had its Lar, just as every farm and estate did, forming a religious structure that extended from the home to the empire itself.
In the Catholic Church, this concept persists in the form of relics, shrines, and saintly intercession. Instead of small statues of Lares in Roman homes, Catholic families now place images of Mary and saints, lighting candles and offering prayers just as their ancestors did for their household gods.
Rome’s religious system also revolved around ancestor worship, a practice deeply ingrained in family rituals. The dead were honoured, prayed for, and believed to have an ongoing influence in the lives of their descendants. This was not just an individual practice but one that extended to the entire religious structure of Rome, where public ceremonies honoured past rulers and heroes.
This practice finds a direct continuation in Catholic prayers for the dead, the doctrine of Purgatory, and the veneration of relics. Rather than abolishing the cult of the ancestors, the Church merely rebranded it as intercession for souls in Purgatory, urging followers to pray for their departed loved ones, much like their Roman predecessors. The veneration of relics in Catholicism—such as bones and artifacts of saints—mirrors the ancient Roman practice of keeping the remains of revered figures as objects of worship and power.
Janus, the Papacy, and the Keeper of the Keys
One of the most striking connections between ancient Roman religion and the Catholic Church is the symbolism of Janus, the two-faced god of doors, transitions, and passageways. In Rome, Janus was not only the protector of gates and thresholds but also had a sacred role in the state religion, overseeing important transitions.
When the Catholic Church adopted the imagery of the “keys of the kingdom” with St. Peter as the heavenly gatekeeper, it unintentionally mirrored the role of Janus. The pope, as Peter’s alleged successor, is seen as the one who holds the keys to heaven, much like Janus held the keys to Rome. Even the Vatican’s emblem, featuring crossed keys, evokes this ancient gatekeeping authority, further demonstrating that Rome’s spiritual framework was never abandoned—it was simply Christianized.
Roman religion was not merely a private practice—it was a state-controlled system where the emperor held the title of Pontifex Maximus, the highest priest of Jupiter. This role made him both the spiritual and political leader of the empire, ensuring that religion served the state’s interests.
When Rome supposedly "converted" to Christianity, this system did not disappear. Instead, the Bishop of Rome inherited the title of Pontifex Maximus, continuing the fusion of political and religious power. Just as the Roman emperors were divine figures ruling as intermediaries between the gods and the people, so too did the pope become the "Vicar of Christ", an ultimate authority over the Christian world.
The transition was so seamless that many of Rome’s religious titles, customs, and hierarchical structures remained unchanged. The pope’s hierarchical structure mimics that of the ancient Roman priesthood, with cardinals, bishops, and priests functioning much like the Flamines and Augurs of the Roman state religion.
The Foundations of Roman Spiritual Life
The Di Manes, spirits of the deceased, were believed to hold a connection with the living, provided they were properly honoured. The festival of Parentalia served as a time when families made offerings to their ancestors, ensuring harmony between the realms of the living and the dead. This belief system reinforced the Roman emphasis on lineage, duty, and continuity through generations.
Agriculture also played a significant role in shaping religious practices. Many festivals, such as the Saturnalia and the Parilia, had agricultural underpinnings. These celebrations were linked to cycles of sowing, harvesting, and fertility, reflecting the dependence of Roman society on the land. By performing the correct rituals, Romans sought divine favour to ensure abundance and avert natural calamities. The stone calendars inscribed with festival dates served as practical guides for both the civic and rural populations, cementing the connection between religious observance and survival.
Despite this intricate religious structure, Roman spirituality was not static. As the Republic and later the Empire expanded, Rome absorbed deities and practices from conquered territories. The cult of foreign gods, such as Cybele, Isis, and Mithras, found places alongside the traditional pantheon. Yet, even as external influences shaped Roman religion, its foundational structure—rooted in family devotion, state rituals, and practical piety—remained remarkably resilient.
In a world where divine favour was perceived as essential to both personal fortune and the success of the state, Romans saw their religious duties as a civic obligation. The rituals established under Numa’s influence laid the groundwork for a religious system that lasted well into the Christian era. As Rome evolved, so did its understanding of the divine, but the principles of duty, reverence, and structured worship endured, shaping the spiritual landscape of one of history’s greatest civilizations.
From Jupiter’s Wine to the Eucharist: A Theological Continuation?
Nowhere is this more evident than in the transition from ancient Roman religious practices to Christian liturgy, particularly in the Catholic Mass. The use of wine as a sacred substance in both traditions raises an intriguing question: Did early Christianity repurpose Roman rituals under a new theological framework?
Wine was not just a beverage in ancient Rome—it was a medium of divine communion, deeply integrated into religious practices. Devotees of Jupiter, the supreme sky god (prince of the power of the air), offered wine libations in his honour, believing that through sacrifice, they strengthened their covenant with the divine. The Vinalia festivals, for instance, were dedicated to Jupiter and symbolized the sanctification of wine before its consumption.
Romans even swore oaths over wine, associating it with truth and divine favour.
Catholicism, elevated the role of wine to an even greater mystical height. In the Eucharist, wine is no longer a mere offering to God—it is transformed into the literal blood of "Christ" (Jupiter?) through the doctrine of transubstantiation. Unlike Roman rituals where wine remained a symbolic connection to the divine, in Catholic theology, it undergoes an ontological transformation, becoming the actual presence of God in the form of "Christ’s" blood.
Yet, the structure remains eerily familiar: a priest consecrates the wine at an altar, believers partake in its consumption, and the act signifies a direct link between the divine and the people. The shift from offering wine to Jupiter to drinking the transfigured blood of "Christ" is a theological evolution rather than a complete rupture.
The Divine Presence in Wine: Echoes of Mystery Religions
The idea that deities could be present within wine predates Catholicism. The Dionysian cult, for example, centered on the belief that consuming wine could unite worshippers with the god Bacchus (Dionysus), fostering mystical communion. Such themes resonate within the Catholic understanding of the Eucharist, where the consumption of consecrated wine unites the believer with Christ.
Another striking continuity is found in the role of the priest. In Roman religion, the Pontifex Maximus was the highest religious official, overseeing sacrifices, interpreting omens, and maintaining Rome’s sacred traditions.
This title did not fade away with the fall of Roman paganism; instead, it was adopted by the Bishop of Rome—the pope.
The Catholic priest, much like his Roman predecessor, acts as an intermediary between his god and the people. He officiates at the altar, consecrates the sacred wine, and oversees a structured, ritualized liturgy reminiscent of Rome’s ancient religious ceremonies. The vestments, incense, and altar used in the Catholic Mass bear striking resemblance to the aesthetics of Roman priestly functions.
Revelation 18:23
"for thy merchants were the great men of the earth; for by thy sorceries were all nations deceived."
What Is Rome Hiding About Christ?
The life of Jesus Christ is the most consequential event in history—yet, curiously, there is an unsettling silence regarding his early years. The Bible moves abruptly from his birth to his baptism, skipping over his childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. If he was the most significant figure to ever walk the earth, why is there no detailed record of his formative years? Are we to believe that nothing of importance happened? Or could it be that those who later controlled Christianity deliberately withheld information from us?
After persecuting and murdering Christians for centuries, the Roman Empire suddenly declared itself the protector and preserver of the faith. But why should we trust the same empire that crucified Christ, executed his followers, and razed Jerusalem? Are we truly to believe that those who had spent centuries trying to destroy Christianity suddenly had a change of heart and faithfully compiled the Word of God without any bias or manipulation?
Could they have altered, removed, or even fabricated elements to serve their own interests?
After Christ’s crucifixion around AD 30–33, Rome was still fully pagan. It continued to worship Jupiter, Mars, Apollo, and a pantheon of other gods. Christianity was outlawed, and its followers were seen as a threat to the Roman order. By AD 70, Rome completely destroyed Jerusalem, slaughtering or enslaving thousands of Jews and Christians. The empire remained deeply pagan, and the Caesars were hostile to anyone who did not worship them as divine.
Yet by the fourth century, the same empire that had burned Christians alive, fed them to lions, and outlawed their faith suddenly declared itself the guardian of Christian truth. This shift came under Emperor Constantine, who convened the Council of Nicaea in AD 325. It was at this council, under Roman authority, that Christian doctrine was shaped and the biblical canon began to take form. The final compilation of the New Testament occurred at the Council of Carthage in AD 397, where Rome decided which texts were “divinely inspired” and which were heretical.
What knowledge did they decide was too dangerous to be made public?
The moral depravity of Rome’s rulers adds further doubt. The empire that claimed to be the guardian of Christian truth was led by some of the most perverse and corrupt individuals in history. Incest was common, with emperors marrying their sisters, nieces, and even stepmothers. Pedophilia was normalized, and many of Rome’s elite engaged in sexual relationships with young boys, a practice openly accepted in Roman society. Caligula openly committed incest with his sisters. Nero not only murdered his own mother but also subjected Christians to gruesome executions, burning them alive to light his gardens. Tiberius secluded himself on a private island, where he engaged in unspeakable acts with children.
And yet, despite this, Rome crowned itself as the authority of Christianity. The title Pontifex Maximus, originally held by pagan high priests of Jupiter, was later adopted by the Bishop of Rome—the pope.
For centuries, the empire that crucified Christ and massacred his followers continued to shed blood in his name. The "Holy" Roman Church became one of history’s bloodiest institutions, leading inquisitions, burning heretics, and launching crusades that killed thousands. The same empire that once outlawed Christianity later wielded it as a weapon, shaping doctrine, erasing histories, and deciding what the faithful should believe.
From the very beginning, the Bible has spoken of two opposing bloodlines—the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent.
The serpent’s seed is mentioned in Genesis 3:15, where God declares enmity between two opposing lineages. The verse states, "And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." But who or what is this serpent’s seed?
Jesus himself reinforced this idea when speaking to the Pharisees in John 8:44, where he said, "Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do." This statement indicates that there are individuals who are not merely misled but are spiritually aligned with the adversary. In Matthew 13:38, Jesus also spoke of "the children of the wicked one" in his parable of the wheat and the tares, further emphasizing the existence of a lineage that operates against God’s will.
The notion that the serpent’s seed is more than just a metaphor is supported by 1 John 3:12, which states, "Not as Cain, who was of that wicked one, and slew his brother." This verse suggests a deeper, more intrinsic connection between the serpent and certain bloodlines or groups throughout history.
Scripture confirms that angels walked as men and could physically interact with humanity. In Genesis 6:4, it is written that the sons of God came unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them. These hybrid offspring, known as the Nephilim, were described as giants, mighty men of renown. But if these beings lived before the flood and also after it (Genesis 6:4), where did they go? If they continued to mix with human women over generations, their physical appearance may have changed, making them indistinguishable from ordinary humans. If that is the case, we could very well be living under the dominion of a hybrid bloodline—a lineage that has infiltrated the highest levels of power and influence, enslaving humanity while preventing them from reaching the Kingdom of God.
Jesus himself warned of this corruption. He repeatedly called the religious leaders of his time "vipers", exposing them as the spiritual descendants of Satan, who was also called a serpent. In Matthew 23:33, Christ rebuked the Pharisees, saying, "Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" This was not merely an insult—it was a direct identification of their spiritual lineage. He was warning us that Satan’s seed had embedded itself within religious institutions, masquerading as righteous men while leading people astray.
Christ also instructed his followers to be wise as serpents, but innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16). He was telling us that things are not as they seem. The deception runs deep, and those who hold power in this world may not be what they claim to be. If the Nephilim bloodline continues to rule over us, they would naturally seek to keep their true nature hidden, working behind the veil of government, religion, and commerce to maintain control over the masses.
This hidden bloodline would have one goal: to separate humanity from God. It would do so by corrupting moral values, pushing society toward sin, and ensuring that mankind remains enslaved to materialism and false doctrines. The rulers of this world tax the people into servitude, create endless wars, and promote ideologies that lead people further from God’s truth. They bleed humanity dry, keeping them in a state of spiritual ignorance, so that they never awaken to the reality of who they are and what is being done to them.
The war between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent is ongoing. If we accept what the Bible tells us, then we must also accept that we are living amongst those who are not fully human. The same forces that opposed Christ two thousand years ago are still operating today, working in the shadows to enslave mankind and prevent them from ascending to the Kingdom of God.
The question remains: how do we break free? Recognizing the deception is the first step. Understanding that some of the world’s rulers do not serve the people, but rather a hidden agenda, allows us to resist their control. Christ has already won the battle, and the serpent’s head will be crushed—but until that day, we must remain vigilant. We must open our eyes to the truth, lest we remain enslaved to those who seek to keep us blind.
The Serpent’s Seed: Are Demons the Offspring of the Fallen?
From the very beginning, Scripture has warned of an ongoing battle between two opposing lineages—the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent.
The Bible refers to Satan as "the prince of the power of the air" (Ephesians 2:2), a ruler of unseen forces influencing the world. He is known by many names throughout different cultures and time periods. In Egypt, he was Osiris-Ra, the god of the underworld and resurrection cults. In Rome, he was Jupiter, the sky god who reigned supreme over all others. In the Hebrew tradition, he is called Satan, meaning "adversary"—a title that signifies his opposition to God’s order. Among the Canaanites, he was worshipped as Baal, the storm god, often associated with fertility, power, and sacrifice. Over time, Baal became synonymous with Baalzebub, the "Lord of the Flies," a direct reference to his dominion over demonic entities.
If Satan is the adversary, Baal the prince of demons, and Osiris and Jupiter representations of the same dark ruler, then what does that say about his seed? If fallen angels mated with human women, producing the Nephilim, could these unnatural offspring still be among us today?
The Book of Enoch, an ancient text referenced in the Bible (Jude 1:14-15), describes how fallen angels descended to Earth and corrupted humanity by taking human women as wives. The Nephilim, their hybrid offspring, were described as giants, mighty and powerful beyond human strength. But when the flood came, their physical bodies were destroyed—yet their spirits remained. According to Enoch, these spirits, cursed to roam the earth, became what we now know as demons. These demonic entities, no longer having bodies of their own, seek to inhabit humans, influencing and corrupting them from within.
Jesus himself encountered and cast out legions of demons, beings who recognized him and feared him. In Luke 8:30-31, when Christ confronted a possessed man, the demons pleaded with him, saying, "Do not send us into the abyss!" This suggests that demons are not merely fallen angels but disembodied spirits seeking refuge in the physical world. If these spirits originated from the Nephilim—the unnatural offspring of fallen angels—then demons are indeed the serpent’s seed, continuing their rebellion against God by working through those in power, and the bloodline continues.
If demons are the seed of the serpent, then they would naturally seek to establish dominance over mankind, infiltrating human institutions, corrupting leaders, and ensuring that humanity remains enslaved to materialism, war, and sin. The rulers of this world—those who control governments, banks, and religious institutions—could very well be under their influence, serving the same dark agenda that has existed since ancient times.
The bloodline of the fallen may have diminished in physical form over centuries of interbreeding, making them indistinguishable from ordinary humans, yet their spiritual influence has never faded. What was once a race of giants may now walk among us in bodies that appear fully human, but their nature remains the same. Though their stature has changed, their mission has not—these descendants of the fallen still carry the seed of the serpent, working against the children of God.
Demons, as the remnants of the Nephilim, continue to wage war against mankind. No longer bound to physical bodies, they seek to inhabit and corrupt humans, influencing rulers, governments, and entire civilizations to turn away from God. Societies are led toward destruction, immorality, and rebellion, all orchestrated by those who serve this ancient lineage. The war between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent rages on, but now it is fought in ways that many fail to see. If these beings once openly walked as giants, they now operate in secret, hidden behind the faces of those who appear human yet serve a very different master.
The question remains: Are we still being ruled by the serpent’s seed? If these entities continue to influence the world through their demonic offspring, then humanity is not merely fighting against flesh and blood but against spiritual wickedness in high places (Ephesians 6:12). The battle that began in Genesis has never ended. The deception has only deepened, and the rulers of this world may not be who—or what—they seem to be.
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