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Religion and Psychoactive Sacraments:
An Entheogen Chrestomathy

Thomas B. Roberts, Ph.D. and Paula Jo Hruby, Ed.D.
Author Index | Title Index


Narco Priest

Melody, Roland. (1971).
New York: World Publishing.


ISBN: none

Description: viii + 133 pages.

Contents: prologue, 14 chapters, epilogue.

Excerpt(s): Leaving the realm of marijuana and stepping into the “spaced-out” (vague and incoherent) world of the hallucinogens — LSD, mescaline, and peyote — took us to Washington Square Park. The detectives were looking for an informer, well-known to the Narcotic Squad, who had agreed to help them close down a Village bar trafficking in junk. As it happened, we came across a small band of hippies kneeling in a circle on the grass chanting the ancient Hindu ritual “Oome Padme Hum.” In the center of the circle a slender, long-haired brunette of about seventeen sat in the lotus position rocking back and forth to their rhythmic chant. Though it was a cool evening — about sixty degrees — she was naked except for a beaded loincloth and an Indian headband covered with little silver bells. From time to time she burst into rhapsodic descriptions of God. “Oh see! My blood is green fire! Touch me, God! Touch me! He walks with stars shoes through my eyes! Listen! he sings to me in my crystal bones .... Oome padme hummmm —” Holding the note, letting the vibrations fill her head and body with orgasmic sensations, she lapsed into silence and assumed a trancelike state. (page 24-25)

Youth today has the luxury of time and the unspoiled idealism to examine our society with a critical eye. They are intelligent, idealistic, and generous, and they long for commitment to a truly great idea or cause. Their whole being cries out that the products of technology are not enough .... There just be more to life that than! They refuse to have their lives computerized. Spiritually unarmed, they stand in the throes of rebellion against the empty materialism of a world they never made. Pitifully ignorant of the fulfillment and excitement of a truly God-centered life, these teen-agers have mistakenly turned to mind-bending drugs to help them reach out beyond themselves. Hallucinogenic drugs are being touted as having charismatic qualities, talent-scout abilities, and spiritual dynamism. Entire cults have been formed around the core of narcotics and their so-called mystical, mind-expanding properties. The God they see in psychedelic visions is a manufactured fake, a trumped-up mystical figment of their drugged and deluded minds.

The whole psychedelic scene grooves on the supernatural. Kids will gyrate to the blown apart and out-of-sight pulsations of acid-rock, achieving a certain refuge and fleeting insensibility from the battering and punching sounds. But the lasting and intense interchange they unconsciously seek can come only from the touch of the Master’s hand. God may have to wear a million different hats and assume as many different images before the psychedelic generation finds and appreciates Him for what He is in Himself. Karl Marx once wrote, “Religion is the opiate of the masses.” If we allow the drug scene to flourish, it will be written of our society, “Opiates are the religion of the masses.” (pages 64-65)



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