The Rise and Fall of the Nephilim (2 page)

Similarly to how my book served as an inspiration and a piece of the puzzle for Scott, it is my wish that you will also find the same excitement and curiosity within the following pages. You may already be holding
another piece of the puzzle and not even realize it, only to discover that it finally makes sense after reading
The Rise and Fall of the Nephilim
. Like Noah, be vigilant and mindful of the ripples. Recognize the patterns and you will find your answers. Together, we may be able to solve the riddle of our past so that we may ultimately fulfill our destiny.

“Square the Circle.”

Craig Hines

Author,
Gateway of the Gods

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

www.gatewayofthegods.com

I have been asked many times by many people what it is exactly that began my journey down this path. I can only answer that is my
insatiable curiosity
.

This book is the culmination of a lifetime’s quest to find the answers to the questions that are seemingly unanswerable. It is not, however, exhaustive in its conclusions. It is, rather, a look into what I believe is one of the greatest events in human history, with far-reaching ramifications and only the slightest hint at discovering the answers.

I am sure to get heat for the conclusions I have drawn, as well as the things I have missed or deliberately avoided. But I will ever and always be open to a good debate.

That humanity experienced an interruption in its ancient past is incontrovertible in my mind. The question of extra-terrestrial interference in our genetics and bloodline is most certainly a reality, though something that will be debated in greater halls of academia and bastions of thinking far beyond my scope and attainment.

Although this little book offers my scholarly surmising and educated conclusions, I have also attempted to be deeply honest and wholesomely transparent in opening up to you the reader, my thoughts, opinions, blatherings, and outright rantings over not only the subject matter, but the philosophies and politically motivated religious trappings I have encountered along the way.

Let me state for the record that I did not set out to offend anyone’s religious sensibilities, for I still adhere to the faith in which I was raised and educated. But I have found over the years that there was always some missing element that left so gaping a hole in my theology that it needed to be sought out and addressed, like looking for that missing puzzle piece in the cracks and crevices of the comfortable sofa in the living room.

Yet, though that was the intention of this book, I find that the more I research, study, and root for facts, the more questions come to the surface. It’s like driving a shiny new car down an ochery-yellow dirt road on a hot summer day in the country: The farther you drive seeking your destination, the more dust you raise, and soon your luster is completely coated in the fine powder of discovery.

And that is where I stand today. Seeking out the Nephilim has stirred up a great amount of dust, so prep yourself for reading further by putting on your metaphoric safety goggles, lest you allow the dust to settle in your eyes. Read on with an open mind and let the things that might cause you consternation settle into being just a part of the process.

The world as you know it is about to take on a completely different light. And the story of the Nephilim is much bigger than you may have ever imagined.

Scott Alan Roberts

August 30, 2011

As a kid, I spent far too many nights lying atop my mother’s garage. With arms folded behind my head, I’d stare into the starry sky, consumed by my childhood fantasies of becoming a starship captain who would “boldly go” into that endless black-seeking new life and new civilizations. Yet, it was more than just growing up a product of pop culture and the science fiction of the 1960s and 70s that fired my curiosities. Something deep inside told me that we were not alone in this infinite stretch of expanding universe, and I longed to know the answers to the age-old questions of “why am I here?” and “where do I come from?” Those questions were probably not as articulated in my mind as they seem when I recount them here and now, but they gnawed at me, just the same, on some primordial, undefined level of my genetic make-up. Within every cognitive, rational human being lies that nebulous unanswered haze that rises to the surface every so often, yearning to have answers. And, yet, most of our lives, we shamble through the years, wholly unaware that those desires smolder deep down inside. We subconsciously suppress any wild, weird notions that there just might be answers beyond the realm of what we think we already know and accept. Human beings walk around this world feeling absolutely unconnected to the greater world and universe around them. As a race, we have forgotten how to make this connectivity, and this ties into all aspects of how we perceive ourselves, our loved ones, our politics, our jobs and careers, our deities, our personal spiritualities, and our place in the order of things.

Sure, like many kids growing up in America during the late 1960s and ‘70s, I attended Sunday school and was taught about the Origins of Man from a Genesis-Chapter-One perspective. And for many years of my life, that was the only source point to which I subconsciously hailed. It was as if the stories of creation were settled long ago in that
unquestioning little child’s understanding of how things work. The curiosities and questions that rose later in life from the mental depths were somehow summarily squashed by the teachings that had been put into my head so many years earlier.

But little did I know—for it was something that was never taught, but always skipped-over, avoided, misinformed, or never mentioned—that the very book from which we dogmatically drew our genesis held secretive, mysterious, encoded messages about origins, visitations and beings not of this world. What was once accepted without question as the mystical, magical, miraculous stuff of ancient biblical stories, suddenly took on a very different perspective once I opened myself to the idea that there was more to those stories than I had been told, and much more brewing beneath the surface of what I had been taught.

Remove yourself, for a moment, to a place somewhere in a more shadowy past, before the days of modern psychological discipline and scientific advance. A time when we, the human race, believed that our life’s fortunes, illnesses, woes, and serendipitous happenstances were firmly rooted in the spiritual and the supernatural. As we evolved our technology and sciences, we learned more and more about the mind and body, universal expansion and entropy, geological tectonics, and the movement of our solar system around a somewhat smallish star that burned in the Milky Way galaxy. Along the way, we dispensed with our reliance on the ethereal, casting aside our need for gods, devils, and every caste of angel, demon and spirit in between. We corporately tuned-out our hearts, and turned our minds to the methodological pragmatic, allowing science and skeptical thought to successfully supplant faith in that great “something-bigger-than-ourselves.” Quantifiable Fact became the inevitable surrogate for the misty stuff of myth and legend. And while we may not have totally thrown out the baby with the bath water, we have successfully become a culture that discounts anything that cannot be measured by the scientific method, casting dispersions on experiential faith and even the slightest adherence to anything that smacks of an older spiritual belief system.

The paramount endeavor that occupies most of the recorded history of the human race—after the history of war, that is (which, sadly,
seems to be synonymous with the history of mankind)—is the great quest for discovery: the seeking-out of the whos, whats, wheres, whys, and hows of our existence. And yet, while attempting, on that quest, to adhere to strict, quantifiable sources, we have let go of the Spiritual; the innocuous, insubstantial, airborne flotsam that, when you actually look for it, seems to permeate every facet of being, down to the very spark of life itself.

So, what if the outmoded, outgrown, discarded superstitions—the things of the unseen, unwanted realms—really do have their basis in some sort of truth? What if the superstitious banalities we brushed aside in the broad swath of our skeptical, scientific hand, were truly the evidentiary stuff of things not seen, the substance of a very real universe that dwelt and operated just below the surface of the visible, tangible world around us? What if there truly exists a viable, legitimate source code that, at times, finds its way through the barrier that divides the diaphanous from the substantive? What if science ain’t the end-all, be-all of this universe, and we really are surrounded by forces of good, evil, light, and dark? What if there really are living, vibrant beings who dwell and function beyond the veil of the dimension of the here and now?

Nearly every ancient culture has in its annals, mythological tales of supernatural beings who came to the earth for the purpose of intermingling with human beings. And out of these early encounters came the many subsequent accounts of an ancient universal flood imposed by a god or superior being for the purpose of wiping-out the offspring created by the supernatural intercourse between these beings and humans. In the ancient, pan-cultural understanding, these beings are referred to as angels, demons, spirits—and even gods. The question that begs to be asked is: were they actually part of some spiritual hierarchy of angelic and demonic beings, or were they only labeled as such for lack of a better understanding? Are we seeing the experiential contact of humans with angelics and demonics, or are these supernatural descriptors the only mode of illustrative labeling that ancient man had for understanding who and what they encountered and experienced? Were there supernatural beings who descended and cohabited with humans, bequeathing an offspring of giants—as many cultures purport—or is there a physical, extraterrestrial connection? Was there a doorway
opened from another dimensional reality through which beings—who could be described by ancient man as nothing less than angelic or god-like—visited this dimensional plane?

In some of the apocryphal, non-canonical writings—those books excluded from biblical scripture by the Council of Nicea during the reign of Constantine in 325
CE
.—we are told of a group of beings known as the “Watchers,” who “orbited” the earth with the divine mandate of “watching over” mankind, but who also desired to take on the self-imposed task of descending to the earth to teach certain skills to human beings, ultimately resulting in a cohabitation and sexual intermingling. The result was a race of god-like progeny called the
Nephilim
.

The word
Nephilim
finds its source in biblical scriptures, both canonical and non-canonical, and that is why the study in this book will focus on those texts, at least as a starting point. “There were giants in the earth in those days, and also afterward,” so says the biblical Book of Genesis, “when the sons of God looked upon the daughters of men and found them fair, and took of them wives as they chose.” The bequeathed descendents became “the mighty men of old, the men of renown.” The literal translation of this passage reads something like: “The Watchers came and took human wives for themselves, as many as they wanted. Their children were the Nephilim of old, the giants.” The accounts of these beings can also be found in the Books of Jasher, Jubilees, and the more recently discovered Dead Sea Scrolls,
The Book of Giants
. The ancient Irish wrote of giant, shining gods called the
Tuatha de Danaan
who later became the Elven Folk of lore and Celtic mythology. The Middle Eastern and Mesopotamian cultures have the
Anakim (Anunna/Anunnaki), and Rephaim
—along with other beings and races described as having descended from giant Nephilim forebears. The Norse mythologies make reference to
Niflheim
, the underworld ruled by the goddess,
Hel
. The Hindu Vedas and Puranas tell of an antediluvian (pre-flood) giant-god,
Daitya
and the race of giant
Andanari
. Native American cultures speak of highly elusive giant, hairy, big-footed creatures that roam the American forests—just as Tibetan mountain peoples tell age-old tales of similar, equally elusive giant creatures in the Himalayas. The Greeks have their
Titans
and the
ancient Sumerians have their flood epic of
Gilgamesh
, the giant half-god half-man. While these peoples, religions and cultures are widely diverse, their giant and flood mythologies, pictographs and folklore all seem to have common, historical linkages. In the pages ahead, we will explore these varied accounts and mythologies, drawing the obvious—and not-so-obvious—connections and similarities.

If, like me, you attended Sunday school as a kid, we were taught that God sent a great, universal flood to the earth to wipe out the “wickedness of mankind,” sparing only one righteous man and his family along with pairs of every animal on earth, and seven of the ritually clean ones. They all took refuge in a great barge for some 120 days, waiting out the deluge and the receding of the waters. This same story is told in these many other ancient records, with varying plot twists and a different cast of characters. But common to nearly all stories is the root account of extra-terrestrial
(“extra”
—
from without; “terrestrial”
—
of this earth)
beings who descended to the earth for the purpose of intermingling with humans, and having children with them. And common to most ancient accounts is the wrath of a superior being who wages “judgment” on the earth in an attempt to destroy the hybrid descendents as a result—seemingly to no avail, as they are mentioned as being
“in the earth in those days, and also afterward.”