Jesus & Aliens in the Bible: The Hidden Truth in the New Testament - Paul Wallis

I've been a preacher for more than 30 years. I've studied and taught through the Book of Genesis many, many times in churches all around the world, and I've trained pastors in the skills of interpreting texts. It's very clear—they're not stories about gods; they're stories about the powerful ones in the Bible and the sky people, the Anunnaki in the Sumerian tablets.

The Elohim and Yahweh stories of the Bible are based on ancient Sumerian, Babylonian, Assyrian, and Akkadian narratives of deities and Anunnaki figures, which today we would describe as ETs. But are there references to ETs and contact experiences in the New Testament? I think if you're looking for that, there are probably five places you would go: the Annunciation—that's the story of when Mary, the mother of Jesus, is told she's going to have a baby by some unusual means; the second would be the Epiphany—that's the story of when the Magi, the wise men, come from the East to pay homage to the infant Jesus; third would be the Ascension narrative—that's the story in Luke Acts of when Jesus is taken up into the sky and into the clouds after his death and resurrection; the fourth would be the Apostle Paul's vision, which is described in 2 Corinthians 12; and the fifth would be a very interesting moment in the Book of the Revelation of John.

Now, the Annunciation is a very interesting moment in the Gospel of Luke, at which his mother, Mary, who is a virgin—she's never had sex with any man, although she's betrothed to Joseph—has a close encounter with a being described as an angel, and she's told she's going to have a baby, even though by any natural explanation that is impossible. Of course, she does have a baby who turns out to be very famous: Jesus. Now, Christians tell this as a unique story to illustrate the uniqueness of Jesus, but even within the Gospels, it is not a unique story.

The story begins with a close encounter and results in an anomalous pregnancy. We think we've been told what kind of being she has encountered—it's an angel—but that word just means a messenger or a person on assignment, a person on a mission. It hasn't told us the biology or genus of the being who's delivering the message.

So it really is a close encounter with a nonhuman figure, but it's not even unique within the Gospel; almost exactly the same thing happened to Mary's cousin Elizabeth. She also is not going to have a child by natural means because she's postmenopausal, and then she has a close encounter with a nonhuman being, and now she's pregnant, also with somebody very important. So these two stories are very clearly and deliberately paralleled in the Gospel of Luke.

We're supposed to notice it's virtually the same story, and it's a story of something that at that time would have been described as a supernatural pregnancy, although today we might have other language for it. But I'll come to that later. Those two stories are clearly modeled on the story of Abraham and Sarah and their anomalous pregnancy because Sarah is postmenopausal.

In the Hebrew canon, Abraham and Sarah are presented to us as a story of Hebrew origins, but I argue in my book, *The Scar of Eden*, that we actually have a story of at least two layers. Yes, there is a Hebrew origins story there, but it's interwoven with a human origins story as well. But it's the same basic pattern: here’s a couple, they're not going to have children by any natural means, and then they have a close encounter with three powerful nonhuman entities, and the anomalous pregnancy follows.

It is a new beginning in the story of humanity in the Hebrew canon. So we have three figures in the Bible whose conception and arrival is announced in very similar fashion. But these stories are not unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition.

If you listen to the stories of the birth of L. S. U.

, it too is an anomalous conception. It's there in the conception story of Vipassi Buddha, the 22nd incarnation of the Buddha before Sidhartha Gautama Buddha. It is also there in the conception narrative of the Yellow Emperor.

Now, what's interesting about some of these Eastern stories is that we're given a different description of the contact phenomenon that preceded the anomalous pregnancy. It was a phenomenon of light being shone onto the mother from something in the sky. I find it curious that Carlo Celli, in the Renaissance period, depicted the Annunciation in exactly that way: there is the beam of light shining onto Mary from—well, what is that in the sky?

A flying sorcerer? A UFO? At the very least, why would Carlo Celli tell the story of the Annunciation that way?

It's nothing like how it's described in the Gospel of Luke; he's painted it the way it's described in these stories about L. S. U.

, the Yellow Emperor, and Vipassi Buddha. The story of an anomalous conception in which the mother is human and the father is God is actually an echo of a pre-Christian story: the story of the conception of Alexander the Great. His human father is reluctant to lie with his mother because there has been a conception by Zeus.

Zeus has manifested himself in some physical way and has impregnated his wife, and the result is this history-changing figure: Alexander the Great. So by the time people are reading the Annunciation stories of John the Baptist and Jesus, they're somewhat familiar with this kind of story. It is a trope that is used to give an explanation as to why this figure is so powerful, so extraordinary, so history-changing.

Is it more than a trope, though, in the case of Jesus? Did it really happen? I lean towards suggesting that it.

. . Is a trope that Luke is using to make a theological point so that any Greco-Roman readers will know straight away he's making a powerful claim about Jesus.

I lean in that direction because it would seem extraordinary if this really was a historical narrative about Jesus. It would seem extraordinary that Matthew, Mark, and John, Thomas, and the other extra-canonical writers seem to know nothing about it. I think Luke has used a trope to make a theological statement about Jesus.

But where has that trope come from? Why is this expected to be a resonant story? Anomalous conception, anomalous pregnancies.

The fact is, this is not the exclusive preserve of great historic figures. You can find families all around the world today who will talk about indigo children or star children, who will tell you maybe they have four children, but one of them is extraordinary, develops very, very quickly, is at genius level, is very sensitive, has psychic abilities, and has memories of other lives. One of the children is different, and they will tell you there was something anomalous about the pregnancy that led to that child.

Now, you might say that's ridiculous; there's no evidence to support that kind of claim. That's not proof of anything. Fair comment.

All I am saying is that this kind of story is not just confined to the legends of great historic figures; it is part of the human experience. And families today who talk about having an indigo child or a star child, they don't go around using those stories to try and get their kid into a better school or into a better job. These stories are very tightly held because people know how ridiculous that sounds.

People know they're going to be judged and ridiculed if they share such an idea, and these stories are held very tightly. It has become a trope for some reason, and clearly, Luke has used it to make a statement about the importance of John the Baptist and the importance of Jesus. Now, I want to quickly address an elephant in the room because I know people will be asking, do I believe in a historical Jesus, and if so, why, since there is no contemporaneous evidence of his existence or John the Baptist's for that matter?

And look, that is a fair question because what we do have is evidence of the beliefs and practices of the very first Christians. In Pliny, Suetonius, Celsus, Josephus, we have the record of the beliefs and practices of the very first Christians. But what we don't have is any report contemporaneous with Jesus and John the Baptist saying, oh, there was a ruckus down the road today because of this preacher, or something extraordinary happened in this town because of this wandering healer.

We don't have anything like that. And even if you go to the Holy Lands and you're shown places, or this is where he was born, this is where he lived, this is where he preached the sermon, what you're being presented with are narrative traditions. There is no object that we can touch, point to, and say, "Here’s the proof of the stories of Jesus that we read in the canonical gospels.

" The reason I lean toward believing there was a historical Jesus is because it is so easy to track the distortion of that story by the Roman Empire. As Christianity became the imperial department of religion, you can see how the Jesus story is distorted. Certain things are forgotten: Jesus's teachings about feudalism, the money system, the tax system—none of those are emphasized.

Christianity has morphed into a religion of worship and obedience, turning Christians into good, compliant citizens. And the way Jesus is depicted has changed so that he becomes more and more European-looking, and by the 6th century, he is being portrayed in Roman military uniform—a foot soldier serving the interests of the Imperial Army and imperial conquests. And, of course, earlier than that, with the rebranding of Constantine as a Christian emperor, we have Jesus rebranded as the supporter of imperial war, and the armies will now fight under the banner of the Cross, which, incidentally, was a symbol of the Sun that Constantine was already using in the religion he was into before his great rebranding.

So, because we can find all those stories of distortion, to me, that's evidence that there was an original Jesus tradition that was inconvenient to the Empire—inconvenient because it was at odds with feudalism and inconvenient because it had great momentum. So I take that as evidence that there was a real, authentic Jesus tradition in the beginning. But are the stories Luke tells about his conception and birth history, or are they tropes?

I would say that the annunciation story fits Jesus in this global family of stories about star children and indigo children—a family of stories that says very often there is some kind of intervention in human development to ensure that we have a very advanced person who can progress human knowledge, wisdom, social wisdom, who can move the human story forward in a positive way. And that certainly seems to be the claim of Luke in his telling of the story, totally unknown to Matthew, Mark, and John, but that is based on the original close encounter story of Abraham and Sarah. If you want to read it closely, if you want to take it as history, then I would flag the question, what kind of entity is that that has affected this anomalous pregnancy?

Back in the day, we might have called it supernatural or divine; today, we have the language of artificial insemination. Today we speak about in vitro fertilization, and we realize we could be looking at a story of advanced technology rather than supernatural. If we read the stories in that more literal, historic way, but.

. . For the reasons I've said, I lean to the idea that Luke is using a trope.

The Epiphany is found in Matthew's gospel; it appears to take the place of Luke's presentation of Jesus first as a baby to the lowly shepherds and then as a boy of 12 to the teachers of the law at the Jerusalem Temple. In this way, Luke presents a coming out to the world from the bottom to the top of Jewish society. Matthew doesn't have any of that; instead, he has a story of Magi—wise men coming from the East to see the birth of this new king.

Now, if they're coming from the East, immediately we’re thinking, what are they looking for? They’re not looking for a Jewish Messiah. Does this story fit within the tradition that searches for the next body?

Is that what the Magi were looking for? These Magi come because they are following a light, and the word in the gospel is "aster. " It traditionally is translated as "star," and that's the obvious translation of it.

But, of course, at that time, when people talked about the stars—the lights in the sky—they made no distinction between what we would call a star, a planet, an asteroid, or any other light moving through the night sky. And to state the obvious, a star can't move through the sky with such precision that it can identify a suburb, a street, and an individual house. So, I would suggest that the light they’re following in the story has to be a lot closer to the ground in order to point out where the young Jesus and his family are now living.

Once again, it's a very dramatic story given to show the global significance of Jesus, and yet it is a story completely unknown to Luke, Mark, John, Thomas, or any of the other extra-canonical gospel writers. How likely is it that this is a historical story if the other gospel writers were completely ignorant of it? So, what is Matthew doing in this story?

Well, all the gospel writers seek to present Jesus as a new Moses, coming with new laws that will delete and replace the old laws of Yahweh. That is why Matthew tells the story of the Epiphany in a way that mirrors two of the stories concerning Moses. Firstly, Moses has to be rescued because the murderous Pharaoh wants to get rid of all the Hebrew babies, and so we have the story of the slaughter of the innocents.

Moses is put in a rush basket into the river so that he can be saved, and of course, he's found by a daughter of the Pharaoh and grows up in Egypt in the royal household. As a result of that, there’s the other moment when the adult Moses is wanting to extract his people group from the country of the cruel Pharaoh, and now the angel of death, the violent Yahweh figure, comes along and there's another slaughter of the innocents. Only this time, it's not the Hebrew babies missing out; all the Egyptian babies—it's the other way around—so that it's the babies of the Egyptians who are attacked and the Hebrew people escape with Moses.

So, we've got a sort of inversion of those stories. Now it's the wicked and murderous King Herod who pronounces this demand for a slaughter of the innocents, and so Jesus has to be taken to Egypt where he's going to grow up for a couple of years before it’s safe to bring him back to the Holy Land. So, it's a story inverting the earlier stories again to make a claim about Jesus: a new beginning, a new Moses, a new people, a new king.

Once again, for that reason, I think we may be looking at a trope rather than a piece of actual history. But if we take it more literally than that, what was that light? It was not a star; it was not a planet; it was not an asteroid.

It was something that was intelligently steered so close to ground level that it could identify a house. So, what exactly did Matthew think he was telling us when he told that story? Was it just a magic light, or did he have something more developed in mind?

Once again, just like with the Carlo Crivelli painting of the Annunciation or the Etienne de la painting of Jesus’s baptism, or the stories from the East of the Yellow Emperor, Laozi, or the Buddha, what we have is an anomalous encounter with light associated with the infancy narratives of Jesus. Clearly, we're being told this is a significant moment, but where does the expectation come from that a close encounter with a non-human entity or an anomalous experience of light will precede these kinds of experiences? I think the Ascension story in Luke-Acts is one of those stories that probably most believers would say, "Okay, something is being described to us that can't have happened in exactly that way.

There must be something figurative about the story," and there surely is. This is the moment where Jesus is taken up before the crowds, up into the clouds, and now he's among the gods. Now, if you read that in a literal, historic kind of way, you have to ask some questions: What exactly took him up, and how was he breathing as he left the atmosphere and entered into outer space?

It's a story that's stretching if you want to read it that way, but if you do, you might pause to ask: Is this a trope? Is this a repetition of, say, Elijah being taken up into the heavens? In his case, we're told how; it's in a craft, a smoky fiery craft, a chariot of fire that comes down through an opening in the sky through a whirlwind.

might call a wormhole. Lands takes Elijah, and off it goes, and Elijah is never seen again. Is Luke building his Ascension story on the story of Elijah so that we can know that, just like the great Prophet Elijah was taken up into the heavens, the same thing happened to Jesus?

Or is it something else? Is it simply a repeat of the classic Greco-Roman trope of a body not being found because the hero is now among the gods? Has Luke simply dramatized that same story so that any Greco-Roman reader will come to the story of the Ascension and say, “I know exactly what he’s saying: this is the apotheosis of Jesus; Jesus is now a God, and everyone knows it.

” The Apostle Paul’s vision in 2 Corinthians 12 is a very interesting moment in which the Apostle Paul is wanting to tell his readers, “Look, some remarkable things have happened to me! That means I really know what I’m talking about. ” He talks about a time when he was caught up into what he called the third heaven, where he saw and heard things that he’s not allowed to repeat.

Now, the third heaven, if we accept the cosmology of the day, was really their way of talking about beyond the sky. We’re talking about the great beyond; we’re talking about deep space, outer space. Suddenly he’s in this place, and he said, “I don’t know how I got there.

I don’t know if this was in the body or in spirit. ” He’s saying he doesn’t know if he was abducted or if this was astral travel, to use more familiar language. And then he says he saw and heard things that he is simply not allowed to repeat.

Now today, we would use the language of astral travel; we would use the language of outer space or deep space; we would use the language of abduction. Of course, it’s not the first time that something like this happens in the biblical tradition. It happens to Enoch; it happens to Elijah; it may have happened to Ezekiel.

Is this a repeat of that with the Apostle Paul? He’s describing it as an experience, so he’s not saying, “Let me tell you a story in a familiar way. Let me reach for this trope.

” He’s saying, “This happened to me, and I will tell you as much as I am allowed to. ” Can anyone say “close encounter”? The senior astronomer for the Vatican Observatory is the Reverend Dr Guy Consolmagno, and he has argued there is another moment in the gospels that may hint at a populated universe, and it’s the moment in the Gospel of John where Jesus says, “I have others not of this fold who I must also bring so that we may be one together.

” He argues that this may be a reference to extraterrestrial people. I take a different view; I actually think there Jesus is talking about Gentile believers, and he’s foreshadowing a movement that gathers people together from beyond the Jewish world—that it’s Jews and Gentiles; that it’s an international family of humanity. So I don’t take that as an extraterrestrial story.

The Revelation of John, chapter 6 and 21, here the writer describes a city. It’s the New Jerusalem, except it’s not city-shaped; it’s a giant cube. And in that cube are streets and habitations.

He describes the textures by likening them to metal and precious stones. He’s fascinated by the artificial light, which means it’s perpetual day, reliant inside this cube. He talks about how everything that is needed to sustain life is in that cube: you’ve got food supply, you’ve got water supply, you’ve got medical supplies.

And then he talks about how the cube comes down from the sky—that it can take tens of thousands of people. He describes an extraordinary moment when he says he sees the stars fall, the sky move backwards and roll up, and then he sees a new heaven and a new earth. Let’s not read that word “heaven” as if it’s something religious, because back in the day it just meant “sky.

” He’s saying that after he’s seen the stars fall down, the sky roll up and move backwards, he’s now seeing star systems he doesn’t recognize and a planet he doesn’t recognize. Now you put all that together, and to the 21st-century mind it’s a coherent picture. We look at the cube, and we might think that’s a Borg cube, only a little bit nicer.

It is a place to carry a breakaway civilization from Earth to some other region of space. And, of course, the writer is at pains to say that the tens of thousands of people carried by the cube are only the very best kinds of people. There has been a harvesting of Earth, and this cube is now going to move off with the best people, with all the resources it needs to sustain life.

If you picture the stars falling, the sky moving backwards, being rolled up, and now you’re in a new out of space, wouldn’t we call that portaling? Wouldn’t we call that traveling through a wormhole? Wouldn’t we talk about breakaway civilization?

We have all the language we need to describe that story today—a story that baffled people for generations. And I just wonder, what was it that John saw in that revelation when he describes a place with artificial light, food supply, water supply, and medical supply? It is an echo of what Ezekiel said he saw.

Now, on the one hand, Ezekiel describes the “ru” (the “kavod”), which is a craft that seems to take a couple of people, and he describes how it flies and moves around. He describes the feeling of it when he says the hand of the Lord is heavy on me as it launched. He described the sound of the.

. . Motors like the roar of a waterfall, which is very descriptive of the sound of a rocket.

He describes the rotor blades, which move at voice commands. He describes the wheels in such detail that NASA has a patent on them. The engineering drawings were originally produced by Yosef Blumrich in the 1970s, and that design of wheel is used to this very day.

So we've got that technology in Ezekiel, and then in another place, he describes a far bigger structure: again, food supply, water supply, medicinal supplies. He calls it a temple; we might call it a mother ship, a giant craft. When we look at how it functions in Revelation, if it's a similar thing again, we've got other frames of reference by which to understand these visions that these ancient people saw.

And of course we call it a vision; it simply means this was something they saw and did not understand. But they've described it as faithfully as they can so that you and I, in ages later, can puzzle over it in a very similar way to which they did. I love the idiosyncrasy of apocalyptic writings in that way.

Now, I'm convinced that the Elohim and Yahweh stories in the Hebrew scriptures are actually ancestral memories of paleo contact—that's contact with other civilizations in the deep past, visitors who came sometimes to exploit, sometimes to colonize, and sometimes to assist and nurture the progress of humanity. In the New Testament, I would say there are no strong claims to ET company, but what I would say is this: I think the writers are telling the story of Jesus using tropes which say this man was divine, this man was important, this man is now to be found among the gods—tropes which would have been well understood by any Greek or Roman reader, especially when we come to the birth and death narratives surrounding Jesus. I think what we can say is that these stories belong to a global family of stories.

That's why those early hearers knew what the stories meant. But the content and language of those stories are curious. Today, we wouldn't talk about annunciation; we would use words like artificial insemination or in vitro fertilization.

We wouldn't talk about meeting an angel; we would call it a close encounter. We wouldn't talk about a light or a star; we would say a UFO. Today, we wouldn't say caught up into the third heaven; we would talk about deep space and abduction.

We have the language of craft, wormholes, motherships, breakaway civilizations. If we retell the stories using language like that, of course we hear it differently. It doesn't make the stories more historical or add any information in terms of whether or not these things happened, but what it does do is make us hear these stories in a different context, realizing that they belong to a global canon of story—eastern and western, ancient and modern—and it really is a global story.

Whether we listen to Nigerian stories, the stories of the Efik people about Abassi and Aai, or if we listen to Mesoamerican stories about the feathered serpents, if we listen to the Norse stories of the Aesir, if we listen to the Celtic stories of the Sidhe, or to Mesopotamian stories of Anunnaki, ancient Armenian stories of Dingir, or Hebrew stories of Elohim, these themes recur: artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization, lights, craft, close encounters, deep space, wormholes, abductions, sky armies, or whole cultures of advanced beings who come to our planet, govern over our ancestors, and then leave. When we find these correlations in stories all around the world—stories which reflect these familiar themes and tropes in the Jesus story—we have to ask why. Thank you for watching The Fifth Kind TV.

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