The Revelation of Lilith & her Nicolaitans of the Apocalypse

Continued from Who Were Deacon Nicholas of Antioch & the Apostolic Age Nicolaitans that God Hates? If you have not read that article yet, please go read it first before continuing! This article will not make any sense at all without reading the first part prior to this article.

​"So, the choice I have made may seem strange to you but who asked you, anyway? It's my life  to wreck my own way..."

-Morrissey, Alma Matters

I didn't realize what fate was revealing to me at that moment of being ordained a Reader during the Saturday evening Vespers service. I thought my triple ordination over two days to Reader, then Subdeacon, and finally Deacon was simply the beginning of a lifelong service to the Orthodox Church. But that was not to be. The revelation didn't come in a flash of light; it came slowly, through the painful, grinding realization that the institution I was dedicated to serving was fundamentally broken.

But before I go into those details, I need to talk about those fears I mentioned in the last article. See, besides being the Nicholas of the Nicolaitans in the Apocalypse, there was something else I feared since my youth...  

...Lilith. 

Lilith is the first-created woman, the Daemonotokos, fully human yet fully demoness, Queen of Hell, mother of witches, consort of Samael, and more.

Lilith has been calling me for at least 44 years now, and probably much longer. I feared her call, but I felt it. Sometimes it was stronger, sometimes it was weaker, but it was always there. It originally manifested as a strong desire to worship a goddess that I initially had no name for. That is probably why I was so Marian focused as a Christian, adoring and studying the Theotokos so deeply. But once I learned who Lilith was, who she truly is, I knew it was her calling me. It was always her. 

The Breaking Point

The glow of that Vespers service, and the ominous yet thrilling synchronicity of reading The Book of the Acts of the Apostles Chapter 6, eventually gave way to a much harsher reality. I had thought my ordination was the preamble to a lifelong service to the ancient Orthodox Church. Instead, it was the beginning of a complete deconstruction of everything I thought I knew about truth, loyalty, faith, and my own destiny.

The cracks in the foundation had already begun to show long before my physical breaking point. After watching multiple schisms and jurisdiction hopping by prideful priests and bishops, I found myself serving under a bishop whose actions felt increasingly disconnected from genuine pastoral care. I watched the institution I loved reveal its true worldly priorities and lust for power. More than a decade later, during the height of the COVID-19 novel coronavirus pandemic, it became glaringly apparent that the hierarchy of the Orthodox Church cared far more about financial survival than the actual human beings in their flock. But the true, devastating break wasn’t just ideological—it became profoundly, painfully personal when, years later, I shattered my ankle in a freak accident.

An injury of that magnitude doesn't just break bones; it shatters the rhythm of your entire life, especially for someone like me, a skater dad with children. Suddenly, I was staring down the barrel of a grueling, year-long recovery. I was stripped of my mobility, my ability to serve in any capability, or even attend the church in any fashion, and my capacity to simply exist in the world as I had known it. I was completely incapacitated and incredibly vulnerable.

In that vulnerability, I called upon and waited for the Church to be the Church. I waited for my parish priest, a man I had looked up to and admired, to visit, to offer the Mysteries (sacraments), or even just to check in on my soul.

What I received instead was a deafening, absolute silence. 

For an entire year, I sat in that silence. As I struggled through the physical agony of a shattered joint, mental agony of long-COVID, and as the immense stress of a bad relationship began to fracture my marriage to an increasingly distancing wife and tear my career apart, the silence from my priest remained unbroken. It is a profound and terrible thing to realize that the institution you have given your life to views you as entirely expendable the moment you are no longer useful to them. The Orthodox Church had always demanded my submission, my energy, and my service whether as a church member, an acolyte, a reader, a subdeacon, a deacon, a catechist, a teacher, a tither, or a parish council member. Yet, in my darkest, most broken hour, when I thought I needed the body of Christ the most, it offered me absolutely nothing.

The orthodox structures had failed me completely. I was broken, abandoned, and watching my life collapse. I didn't know it yet, but that total destruction of my old life was exactly what was required to finally clearly claim the call I was actually meant to answer all along.

The Revelation and the Healing

It was in the absolute wreckage of this abandonment, my ankle shattered, my marriage fracturing under the immense weight of acrimonious stress, and my professional life unraveling, that I finally reached out for a different kind of lifeline. I was done waiting for the orthodox structures to answer my prayer to save me. I contacted Father Farkas, a Romanian spiritual teacher I had discovered through online esoteric circles. I wasn't looking for standard theological platitudes; I was looking for the truth of why my life was being systematically dismantled while the indifferent Church looked the other way. He became my new spiritual father. 

What Father Farkas revealed to me was the skeleton key to my entire existence. He didn't offer empty, institutional comforts. Instead, he offered to connect me to Lilith, and when he sacrificed his own life essence (his blood) to do so, and reached out to her on my behalf, he told me something that shook me to my core; she and I had already been connected for a very long time. 

Suddenly, a terrifying memory from my youth snapped into sharp focus: the day I was jumping between the roofs of two train cars. I recalled the exact moment I was mystically, abruptly anchored in place in mid-air, (my foot caught in the air, perfectly hung-up under a trip hazard, a ladder rung) just a fraction of a millisecond before the apex of a jump that would have certainly killed me. For decades, I had dutifully credited my guardian angel. The witnesses who saw me suspended in mid-jump had called it a miracle of God. But Father Farkas’s words stripped away that old, comfortable illusion. It wasn't the Church's angel that intervened in the railyard that day. It was her. Lilith had been protecting me long before I ever had the courage to speak her name. 

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces of my life locked into place. That profound childhood dread I felt when reading Revelation Chapter 2 wasn't a warning of damnation; it was the shadow of a calling I wasn't yet ready to understand. I now realized that my destiny wasn't something to run from.

In that moment of absolute clarity, I stopped fighting the current. I accepted her call. When I finally embraced her path, stepping into the current of her Enn, Renich Viasa Avage Lilith Lirach (the invocation used in Lilithian practice), it wasn't with the fear of a boy reading the Apocalypse, but with the conviction of a man claiming his rightful place. 

“So the life I have made may seem wrong to you, but I’ve never been surer. It’s my life to ruin my own way.”

-Morrissey, Alma Matters

I accepted that I may very well be Nicholas of the Nicolaitans for these End Times, reclaiming the very title I once feared as my archetype. I stepped out of the rigid, unfeeling structures of Orthodox submission and into the fierce spiritual independence that Lilith embodies.

The contrast in the aftermath was staggering. The Church, which demanded my total devotion and lifelong service, left me broken on every conceivable level. But Lilith? She brought me actual healing. Through her, I found a true miracle, physically healing from a new severe thigh injury that had crippled me, and mental healing from the deep institutional and marital trauma that had bound me.

“You see, to someone, somewhere, oh yeah—Alma matters in mind, body and soul, in part, and in whole.”

-Morrissey, Alma Matters

I finally understood the truth: My Alma Mater (Nourishing Mother), Lilith, provided the restoration, the care, and the empowerment that the Church promised but never actually delivered. I had to lose the illusion of the orthodox safety net to finally find the one who would actually catch me. I found myself wiser, bolder, more discerning than ever, more clear-minded, and more charismatic to others. My newly inspired blog articles became more popular than ever.

The Conclusion

For years on this blog, I have explored the depths of theology, seeking answers in ancient texts, types, and traditions. But the ultimate truth I found was not in submission to a hierarchy that abandons its own when they are no longer useful. It was in the fierce spiritual independence of the Nicolaitans that the early Church condemned, and that Lilith embodies. My childhood dread of Revelation Chapter 2 is completely gone, replaced by the profound clarity of my actual purpose. I am no longer waiting for a broken institution to save me, nor am I running from the title I was destined to hold. I have stepped into my calling as Nicholas of the Nicolaitans for these last days, finally healed, awake, and whole. To those who have followed my journey here: the path forward is different now. It is no longer about fearful obedience, but about claiming the healing, autonomy, and truth that was waiting for us all along. Join me. 

What's Next?

Understanding Lilith's true role in the cosmos is only the first step; connecting with her current requires a different kind of mechanism. Throughout this exploration, I introduced her specific Enn: Renich Viasa Avage Lilith Lirach. But what exactly is an Enn, and why does vibrating these specific ancient syllables work? In the next article I transition from theology to somatic practice. Join me as I break down The Epistemology, Mechanics, and Efficacy of Chanting Enns, Mantras, or Prayers on July 14th, 2026.