The Acts of Simon Magus, also called Simon the Sorcerer, Father of Heresy and Simony

The Acts of Simon Magus
in the First (and Fourth) Century A.D.!
A Work in Progress by
Glen Cram

Readings

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Tomb Invader Young Samaritan Simon arrives in Alexandria as a penniless student of the Mystical Arts and, with his dead brother Luni, takes shelter in an Aigyptian tomb. Read on	The Whore of Tyre In his capacity as Great Power Of God, Simon has agreed to pimp the spirit of Helen of Troy to the lecherous Faustos Trichenes. He heads to Tyre to locate an accomplice in the charade, and finds a Goddess. Read on	Water Of Life Simon gets wet when he confronts a rival cult, and meets an old friend in odd circumstances. Read on	Return to Ephesus Returning to the mortal world after 400 years in the Other Place, Simon meets his Goddess again in an unusual place. Read on
Water of Life Well, I went. And an interesting time it was. And indeed I must give whoever is behind this thing credit, for he has come up with a scheme so simple, yet so obvious, that whoever hears it is instantly drawn in, and subscribes to its tenets wholeheartedly. It is a cynical, wicked scheme, and I only wish I had thought of it myself. It works like this. Like the Doctors, they practise immersion. But the act of dousing in the large bath they have set up does not simply wash away sin. They have somehow enlisted the aid of a daemon in the shape of a dove and enchanted the water, so that at the moment of total submersion their soul is opened up, and said daemon enters them and fills them with unspeakable ecstasy. And in that moment they imagine that they are one with the Maker, and they fall down and sing Its praises unendingly. And once that happens, the new convert is only too willing to give up all his Earthly goods and join those who have brought about his possession in bringing others under that same foul spell. I stayed on the sidelines silently, watching both men and women submit gladly to the ceremony of immersion, when one of the ringleaders approached me. He was a Greek, and his eyes were filled with the daemon. "Thou next," he said. I raised my hand. "No, not me, thank you..." But I stopped. Their daemon did not seem so strong to me. In Aigyptia I had faced the Evil One Itself and come away to tell! Perhaps if I met It face to face I could break this spell, even make it my own servant. And yet... I looked around at Its worshippers and shuddered. To become as one of these? Maybe I better not…no! I could beat this! The Greek led me up to the font. Several people I recognised as my own gasped as they saw me. I smiled benignly and climbed into the bath. The Greek put his hand on my head and slowly pushed me under; overhead I felt the presence of the daemon, waiting. O, I would be a fine prize! You wish! My head was totally submerged, and I silently surrounded myself with all the spells I could muster and awaited the attack. But it did not come. I looked up through the waters. Instead of the dove there was a man, all in white, and I knew his face. But from where? He stared down at me sadly. "Do you not want me?" he sent. "Certainly," I replied. "Will you serve me instead of these amateurs? They're just cross-bait anyway; how long do you think they can keep this shit up? Quinticus will kick those pricks' arses, mark me. I've got a proper following, and with your help can get you some real souls to feed on. What's your Name anyway?" He smiled. "You knew it once." "I know," I said, "but I can't put my tongue to it. Remind me." "It is no secret. Any here will tell you gladly. It is..." But I knew already, and shuddered. "Jesous? The pigboy?" Necromancy! They had stolen Jesous's body and enslaved his spirit to do their dirty work! No wonder Quint was so hot to shut them down. Well, if it was dead souls they were dealing with, I didn't want any part of it. It costs me enough to avoid sorcery charges, but a necro rap is something else. But now I was in another quandary. I had saved Jesous once, from that roadside ditch where he lay beaten half to death so long ago. Did my obligation as his lifesaver extend beyond the grave? Should I try and free him from whatever spell they had him under? And what would it cost? I looked up again. He was closer, right in my face, and he reached out to touch me. I recoiled with a jerk and suddenly my head was out of the water, my lungs burning and gasping for breath. One of the flunkeys was pulling me out, smiling expectantly. When he had deposited me on the stone flags around the pool, I decided to have a little fun. "Excuse me,"--I coughed up what seems half the pool--"but is that it?" He looked at me in amazement. "Of course. You are now baptized in the Water of Life. Your sins are washed away, and you are one with the living Body of the Anointed. What else could there be?" "But--forgive me now if I labour under a misapprehension--am I not supposed to feel something, an infusion of the soul, that sudden sweet ecstasy that betokens union with the Son of the One above, in Whose name I find myself in this sodden state?" He looked at me in confusion, then turned and beckoned to the Greek, who came over smiling. The man indicated me. "Philip, he says he feels nothing." Philip eyed me for a moment. He then took the man aside, and they conferred in whispers. Finally he turned to me. "I am truly sorry, Brother, if our purpose was not made clear from the outset. Our role here is simply to ensure that as many as possible receive the Water, so that, should the End arrive this instant, you might be received into the company of the Elect without undue formalities. The actual descent of the Holy Spirit, which confirms your sanctification while still upon this Earth, requires another step, to wit, the laying on of hands by one empowered to do so." I looked about me. From the idiotic expressions surrounding me, it appeared that, for some at least, that Spirit had not waited on further ceremony. But I had to give the man credit for quick thinking. Given half a chance, these people might go far. I hoped it would not be at my expense. "Then by all means," I cried, "lay on! For I hunger for the Gift that Spirit alone can bestow." He looked solemn. "Alas, I have not the power. Only he to whom the Anointed of God has entrusted the keys to His Kingdom can call down the Spirit from on high. But fear not! I have this day received word that Blessed Shimon, called the Rock, is even now on his way to this place, and you will soon receive that which you crave." Shimon. That was interesting. An almost name-brother. Well, we shall see if I can get him to let Jesous go. And then, Baal willing, I’ll be free of that obligation at last.