The fluidity of language is a fascinating testament to the evolving consciousness of humanity. Words, once anchors of specific meaning, can become kites, tugged by the winds of cultural shifts, personal interpretations, and the sheer passage of time. This phenomenon is particularly striking when we consider terms that once held unequivocally negative connotations, but have since been adopted to signify something desirable, even aspirational.
Consider the modern vernacular, where “wicked,” “bad,” and “sick” have shed their skins of unpleasantness to become descriptors of excellence, excitement, or impressive skill. A “wicked” guitar solo, a “badass” motorcycle, a “sick” skateboard trick – these phrases repurpose negativity into potent expressions of admiration. It’s a linguistic rebellion, a subversion of established meaning that highlights a human tendency to imbue language with subjective enthusiasm.
This semantic drift is not a new phenomenon. The 1950s, a decade often characterised by its perceived innocence, offered a musical snapshot of this linguistic evolution with Elvis Presley’s hit “Paralysed.” In the lyric, “I’m gay every morning, at night I’m still the same,” the word “gay” denotes happiness, a state of cheerful disposition. Fast forward a few decades, and the primary association of “gay” has shifted dramatically, now predominantly referring to sexual orientation. This isn’t a mere alteration; it’s a profound redefinition that has reshaped social discourse and identity.
The fields of philosophy and spirituality are not immune to these linguistic metamorphoses. For millennia, “Satan” has been the embodiment of pure evil, a primordial adversary whose followers were labelled “Satanists.” Yet, a compelling transformation is currently underway. Individuals, driven by what appear to be noble intentions and a commitment to ideals that could easily reside within the pantheon of saints, are embracing the appellation “Satanist.” Their rationale is not to endorse malevolence, but to identify with an adversarial spirit – the “Satan” they perceive as a symbol of defiance against a passive, conditioned, and often tyrannical status quo. They champion critical thinking, a courageous rebellion against conformity, and a rejection of unquestioning obedience, thereby redefining their “adversarial” stance not as a pursuit of wickedness, but as a posture of intellectual and spiritual liberation. [See The Satanic Scholar website, and Lilith Starr’s Compassionate Satanism, as examples.]
To truly grasp the nuances of this linguistic shift, it is imperative to critically examine the source material often invoked. The Old Testament’s portrayal of Yahweh, the God of Abraham, paints a picture of a deity far more prone to violence and destruction than the figure of Satan as commonly understood. Yahweh’s narrative is replete with instances of immense suffering and loss of innocent life. The story of Job, where God himself points out Job to Satan as a target for torment, suggests an active instigation of suffering, not merely a passive allowance. From this scriptural perspective, the question of who truly embodies the “Devil” becomes remarkably complex, with Yahweh arguably occupying a more terrifying and destructive role in the biblical narrative, perhaps even earning a higher position on a “pecking order” of evil.
This brings us back to the contemporary interpretation of Satanism and Luciferianism. Within these movements, a disquieting dichotomy emerges. On one hand, there are those who, by all accounts, champion compassion, advocate for the downtrodden, and actively oppose oppressive power structures, including religious and state-sanctioned tyranny. Their philosophical underpinnings appear rooted in a profound desire for justice and individual autonomy.
However, on the other side of this spectrum, a darker current flows. Here, we find individuals who, through their writings, seem to embody the very negativity the term “Satanist” once universally represented. They express sneering contempt for the majority of humanity, deriding figures like Jesus and his philosophy of kindness as mere weakness. Some delve into practices described as “Predatory Spiritualism,” a form of ritualistic magic aimed at siphoning life force from others. These behaviours, characterised by disdain, aggression, and a desire to dominate, align more closely with what is traditionally understood as devilish. This inclination towards preying on others though, in itself, betrays a fundamental weakness, a dependence on external energy rather than internal strength, ironically undermining their claims of adversarial power.
Reconciling this apparent contradiction – the compassionate idealist versus the predatory opportunist – presents a significant challenge. How do we reconcile these two diametrically opposed groups sharing a single, loaded moniker? I suggest we must do what language has always done: evolve. We must refine our terms to match reality. If the term “Satan” has been co-opted to represent philosophical rebellion, then we need a new, more precise name for the ultimate spirit of malevolence.
One potential avenue lies in a strategic rebranding of “Satan.” If the original meaning of “Satan” was “Adversary,” then perhaps we can reclaim this root and apply it to the true source of malice. Ancient Zoroastrianism identified “Druj,” meaning “lie,” as the origin of evil. The predatory nature of this entity, its hostility towards goodness, and the similar practices of some who identify with it, suggest alternative appellations. “The Supreme Apex Predator” or “The Dark Apex Predator” could capture this essence. “Hostile Spirit” might also serve, particularly as it acknowledges the potential for both incorporeal and incarnate manifestations of this malevolent influence.
A defining characteristic of those who espouse “Predatory Spiritualism” is their rejection of spiritual union, of “Oneness with the Divine.” They actively discourage this pursuit, misrepresenting it as a loss of self. However, spiritual traditions across the globe suggest that Divine Union is not an erasure but a restoration, a “re-membering” of the fragmented self (re-member-ing). A process by which the fragmented self is made whole again. The vehement opposition to this awakening, this holistic reintegration, is a potent indicator of a spirit bent on leading others astray, a hallmark of a dark soul.
While those who identify as Satanists for non-theistic philosophical reasons appear to be genuine advocates for positive change, their chosen moniker inadvertently creates space for those who are, in effect, “wolves in Satanic clothing.” These individuals, driven by a desire to dominate and exploit, cast a dark shadow over the more constructive interpretations of the term.
The existence of a demonic realm, a spiritual dimension of malevolence, is a concept that some, in their earnest efforts to distance themselves from the perceived barbarity of the Old Testament God, choose to disregard. However, the “Apex Predator” of this realm has worn many names throughout history – Satan, Iblis, and perhaps now, in our evolving linguistic landscape, other terms are needed. The word “Devil,” with its inherent meaning of a divider, a slanderer, a false god, holds a potent resonance. For a being that seeks to sever our connection to the Divine, a “Dark Apex Predator” quite accurately describes its destructive essence. In a world where language is constantly in flux, clarifying these distinctions becomes not just a matter of semantics, but a crucial step in discerning genuine aspiration from insidious deception.
As we conclude this article, I’m going to leave you with this thought: if modern ‘Compassionate Satanists’ seek to stand against tyranny, intolerance, and overall nastiness, in favour of compassion, community and goodness, and since ultimately the spirit entity traditionally known as Satan, is believed to be the instigator of evils, such as tyranny and intolerance, acting as the ultimate Adversary of goodness, might this mean that modern Compassionate Satanists, are the Adversary’s adversaries, or Satan’s satans?
Worldwide Temple of Aurora 