The Gospel of Thomas: Sayings 1–13 — A Gnostic Lens on Inner Union

I’m not religious. Never was. But I’m deeply spiritual and not in the Instagrammable, “positive vibes only” way. More like: I’ve walked through hell, faced things I can’t explain, nearly left this world more than once… and lived to talk about it.

(1)

And he said: “Whoever finds the meaning of these words will not taste death.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This opening line isn’t some cryptic riddle about physical immortality. It’s about soul-level awakening. A kind of remembering that liberates you from the illusion of separation, fear, and fragmentation. To “not taste death” means to see through the matrix. To taste life so fully, so truthfully, that the fear of death dissolves in the presence of your own essence.

Even as a child, I sensed a deeper war playing out on this planet. Light and dark. Truth and distortion. This line hit me like a memory I’d forgotten. Because when you find the real meaning of these sayings, not from your intellect, but through your lived experience, something in you shifts permanently. You stop living from your trauma and start living from your soul.

(2) 

Jesus says:

(1) “The one who seeks should not cease seeking until he finds.(2) And when he finds, he will be dismayed.(3) And when he is dismayed, he will be astonished.(4) And he will be king over the All.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is the blueprint for awakening. First, you seek. You go to workshops, drink the plant medicine, dive into the healing… hoping for light. But what you find is often far from comforting. You find your disconnection. Your wounds. The split between your inner masculine and feminine. You find that the world isn’t what you were taught, and neither are you.

And yes, it’s dismaying. It breaks you. But on the other side of that heartbreak is astonishment. Awe. A homecoming that no book or guru could’ve prepared you for. And when you integrate that, you rise — not as some inflated spiritual king, but as someone sovereign over their own inner world. You stop reacting. You start creating. That’s kingship in this age.

(3) 

Jesus says:

(1) “If those who lead you say to you: ‘Look, the kingdom is in the sky!’ then the birds of the sky will precede you.(2) If they say to you: ‘It is in the sea,’ then the fishes will precede you.(3) Rather, the kingdom is inside of you and outside of you.”(4) “When you come to know yourselves, then you will be known, and you will realize that you are the children of the living Father.(5) But if you do not come to know yourselves, then you exist in poverty, and you are poverty.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is one of the clearest calls to shamanic self-initiation I’ve ever read. The kingdom isn’t up there or out there. It’s right here. In your chest. In your body. In how you show up in your relationship when everything in you wants to shut down and blame. Most people spend their lives chasing heaven like it’s a retirement plan. Jesus is saying you’re standing in it. You just forgot how to feel it.

The last line is brutal and beautiful. If you don’t know yourself, you don’t just live in lack — you are lack. Because the poverty is internal. It’s the emptiness that can’t be filled by money, validation, or spiritual bypassing. Knowing yourself doesn’t mean understanding your personality type. It means tracking your wounds back to their source, meeting the parts of you you’ve exiled, and realising they were never broken to begin with.

(4) 

Jesus says:

(1) “The person old in his days will not hesitate to ask a child seven days old about the place of life, and he will live.(2) For many who are first will become last, (3) and they will become a single one.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

We’ve mistaken knowledge for wisdom. And in doing so, we’ve lost reverence for innocence. This saying turns the whole hierarchy on its head. It’s not the elders who hold the deepest truths—it’s often the ones untouched by programming. The child, fresh from source, still carries the memory of oneness. And the wise are those humble enough to listen.

To become the “single one” is to undo the separation within. To move from duality—me versus you, masculine versus feminine, right versus wrong—into union. That’s the real initiation. Not ascending somewhere else, but descending into the body, into presence, and remembering what it means to be whole. Most people won’t choose that path. It’s not glamorous. But it’s the only one that leads to real life.

(5) 

Jesus says:

(1) “Come to know what is in front of you, and that which is hidden from you will become clear to you.(2) For there is nothing hidden that will not become manifest.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

There’s no escaping the truth. You either face it now, or it comes for you later. This saying is an invitation to stop numbing, to stop running. Most of us are terrified of what we might find if we actually looked. But the deeper truth is this: the hidden only hurts when it stays hidden. Once brought to light, it becomes usable power.

We live in a time of unveiling. Everything is being exposed—personally, culturally, globally. And while that can feel chaotic, it’s also a massive opportunity. The more honest you are with yourself, the more life starts making sense. You begin to see the patterns, the karmic loops, the buried grief. And when you really see it, the healing isn’t even effortful. It just unfolds.

(6)

(1) His disciples questioned him, (and) they said to him: “Do you want us to fast? And how should we pray and give alms? And what diet should we observe?”(2) Jesus says: “Do not lie. (3) And do not do what you hate.(4) For everything is disclosed in view of <the truth>.(5) For there is nothing hidden that will not become revealed.(6) And there is nothing covered that will remain undisclosed.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is a slap in the face to empty ritual. Jesus isn’t interested in your fasting schedule or whether you go vegan to look holy. He’s asking if you’re living in integrity. Are your words clean? Are your actions aligned with your heart? Or are you living a performance, hoping the sky is taking notes? There’s no hiding. Everything fake eventually cracks.

The last lines echo Saying 5 but go deeper. Even your hidden motives are visible to whatever force governs this universe. That’s not a threat. It’s a call to freedom. When you stop lying to yourself, you don’t have to keep performing. You become real. And being real is rare, but it’s magnetic. It’s healing. And it’s how we shift things down here.

(7) 

Jesus says:

(1) “Blessed is the lion that a person will eat and the lion will become human.(2) And anathema is the person whom a lion will eat and the lion will become human.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This one sounds wild, but it’s rich. The lion is your shadow. Your untamed instinct. Your rage, your hunger, your sexuality, your grief. If you can face it, digest it, and integrate it, it becomes your power. That’s the human eating the lion. You transform the beast by meeting it directly.

But if you run from it, repress it, pretend it’s not there? It eats you. That’s the depression that swallows people whole. The addiction that takes over. The relationship that turns into a battlefield. The work is to become conscious of your fire—so it serves you, instead of consuming you. That’s sacred integration.

(8)

(1) And he says: “The human being is like a sensible fisherman who cast his net into the sea and drew it up from the sea filled with little fish.(2) Among them the sensible fisherman found a large, fine fish.(3) He threw all the little fish back into the sea, (and) he chose the large fish effortlessly.(4) Whoever has ears to hear should hear.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

Discernment. That’s what this is about. There’s so much noise out there—teachings, coaches, movements, hacks. But the wise one knows how to feel for what’s real. When you find the large fish… the deep truth, the soul mirror, the authentic path… you don’t hesitate. You drop the distractions. You say yes, fully.

This saying reminds me that not everything is worth your time. Most things are surface-level. But once you’ve tasted depth, you can’t go back. Whether it’s in your work, your healing, your relationships… be the fisherman who knows what to release, and what to keep. It’ll save you years.

(9) 

Jesus says:

(1) “Look, a sower went out. He filled his hands (with seeds), (and) he scattered (them).(2) Some fell on the path, and the birds came and pecked them up.(3) Others fell on the rock, and did not take root in the soil, and they did not put forth ears.(4) And others fell among the thorns, they choked the seeds, and worms ate them.(5) And others fell on good soil, and it produced good fruit. It yielded sixty per measure and one hundred twenty per measure.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is the raw truth of teaching, leading, and loving in a fragmented world. Not everything you offer will land. Some people won’t hear you. Others will hear you but won’t hold it. And some will actively reject it. That’s not failure. It’s natural law. Only the seeds planted in ready soil will grow.

But when it does land, in the heart of someone who’s done enough inner work to receive it, the fruit is exponential. That’s the 60x and 120x yield. That’s not a metric. It’s a metaphor for soul evolution. For inner union. For transformation that ripples out far beyond the individual. Keep sowing. Just don’t expect every field to bloom.

(10) 

Jesus says:

“I have cast fire upon the world, and see, I am guarding it until it blazes.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is the fire of Truth. Not the gentle warmth of a scented candle—but the kind that burns away illusions. Truth doesn’t politely ask your ego to leave the building. It incinerates the scaffolding of who you thought you were. Jesus didn’t come to make people comfortable. He came to ignite something ancient and disruptive: soul truth.

And once that fire is lit, it doesn’t go out. Not easily. Once you see, you can’t unsee. You either become the fire, or you try to run from it. Most try to run, at least for a while. But eventually, the only real peace is in surrendering to it. Let it blaze. Let it undo you. Because what’s left after the fire is something worth living for.

(11) 

Jesus says:

(1) “This heaven will pass away, and the (heaven) above it will pass away.(2) And the dead are not alive, and the living will not die.(3) In the days when you consumed what was dead, you made it alive. When you are in the light, what will you do?(4) On the day when you were one, you became two. But when you become two, what will you do?”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This one’s dense but profound. The first line shatters any romanticised view of heaven as static. Even heaven transforms. Even your highest states are meant to evolve. The dead are not alive—meaning unconscious living isn’t really living. And those who awaken don’t truly die. They live beyond fear, beyond form. They’ve become part of something timeless.

The last line speaks directly to the sacred masculine-feminine split. You were once whole, then became two—divided in body, in psyche, in soul. And now the invitation is to unify. What will you do with that? Will you keep projecting your longing onto others, or will you do the alchemy inside? That’s the deeper teaching. Reunify what was split. Become whole again.

(12)

(1) The disciples said to Jesus: “We know that you will depart from us. Who (then) will rule over us?”(2) Jesus said to them: “No matter where you came from, you should go to James the Just, for whose sake heaven and earth came into being.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

James represents something bigger than a person—he represents justice. Not the kind doled out by courts or governments, but cosmic justice. The realignment of what’s been distorted. The return to right relationship—with the Earth, with the body, with each other. This isn’t about waiting for someone to save us. It’s a reminder that leadership is rooted in righteousness, not hierarchy.

In times like these, we don’t need more gurus. We need people aligned with truth. People who can hold the weight of clarity without collapsing into ego or fear. James stands for that archetype. The one who stands in the storm, unmoved. The one who speaks for what cannot speak for itself. We all need a little of that James energy now.

(13)

(1) Jesus said to his disciples: “Compare me, and tell me whom I am like.”(2) Simon Peter said to him: “You are like a just messenger.”(3) Matthew said to him: “You are like an (especially) wise philosopher.”(4) Thomas said to him: “Teacher, my mouth cannot bear at all to say whom you are like.”(5) Jesus said: “I am not your teacher. For you have drunk, you have become intoxicated at the bubbling spring that I have measured out.”(6) And he took him, (and) withdrew, (and) he said three words to him.(7) But when Thomas came back to his companions, they asked him: “What did Jesus say to you?”(8) Thomas said to them: “If I tell you one of the words he said to me, you will pick up stones and throw them at me, and fire will come out of the stones (and) burn you up.”

Stephen’s Reflection:

This is the ultimate lesson in discernment and timing. You don’t share sacred truth with people who aren’t ready to hold it. Not because they’re bad or wrong, but because it will hurt them. That’s the fire Thomas is talking about. Some truths are too pure for ears that haven’t been softened by humility. When you try to teach someone too early, it turns into violence. Against them or against you.

Jesus affirms that Thomas doesn’t need a teacher anymore because he’s already tasted the source. Once you’ve drunk from the well, no one can teach you the taste of water. But this also comes with responsibility. You must guard the spring. You must honour timing. You must know when to speak and when to stay silent. That’s spiritual maturity. That’s mastery.

Closing Reflection

These first thirteen sayings aren’t random fragments. They’re a coded map for awakening—one that speaks as much to the soul’s journey today as it did two thousand years ago. The real question isn’t whether these are true. The real question is: are you ready to live them?