General Thesis and Approach

Brian Muraresku’s, “The Immortality Key”, presents a compelling and controversial thesis about the origins of Christianity and its potential connections to ancient psychedelic practices. This review aims to provide an overview of the book’s main arguments, supporting evidence, and its impact on our understanding of religious history.

Before we begin, let’s assume we’re mature and have smartphones with the same capabilities. Brian is a scholar and has a compelling idea, whether or not it is considered absurd, that is built on ample empirical evidence.

This is simply my long-winded review. This was a huge book to swallow and collided with philosophy, theology, and my journey. Allow me to give you permission to doubt, question, or even ignore this. This review is objectively from a subjective source about a subjective interpretation (Brian Muraresku’s) of empirical evidence.

A Not About Psychedelics & Drugs

One thing up front: this is not about whether or not people should take psychedelics. I worry people could have this impression from this book. It’s not that simple. lt’s awfully reductionistic and dangerous, especially without an authentic community. What we do with psychedelics seems a lot more important of a question than if we should use them. In our global and commercial nihilistic world, I worry this either-or mindset will drive more divides and existential dread.

Psychedelics are clearly a different class of drugs. Even our language around drugs needs to change. Our society assumes there’s a difference between the pharmaceuticals we use today and “drugs.” We assume a lot. We can technically call chemicals like peyote, alcohol, caffeine, marijuana, sugar, meth, LSD, and heroin “drugs” but they are not the same.

We know this. There is a large stigma around psychedelics – it’s outside the realms of what we are familiar with. Stigmas always cloud judgment and are symptomatic of fear. Western-based science, however, is proving at least two ancient myths to be true: these things can help people and they’re not like other drugs. But…this post is not what this is about.

For me, this book was but one of a series of significant experiences that stretched far back before alcoholism. This was about how we view theology and Scripture. It cracked open Protestant assumptions while permitting me to pursue a surprising unfolding Christian mystic faith. It was not about psychedelics – it was about the Apostle John and worldview. Outside of this book, there was a lot to think about and feel my way through while now having the freedom to authentically explore my faith.

The Psychedelic Conversation

The issue of psychedelics alone is triggering for many; assumptions and gut reactions will happen. For anyone, the invitation extended is to set aside Brian’s and my opinions and investigate the evidence. Then, join the conversation.

I’m an advocate that the conversation around psychedelics needs to happen. In some sense, it’s one our society needs to catch up on. This is in the same camp as talking about rampant nicotine and marijuana use, as well as our politics, identity issues, dopamine consumption, families, and values. Psychedelics have already changed our culture and people are curious about them. It is already here. If this review gets you thinking, that’s enough – feel free to throw anything up you can’t stomach.

Part Two will present my subjective interpretation of the empirical evidence. We have a fire hose of information, so we go. I’ve also begun a draft of curated evidence presented plainly with citations.

Historical Context

The idea that Christianity borrowed from pagan traditions has deep roots, championed as recently by thinkers like Martin Luther King Jr., who noted its parallels to Greco-Roman mystery cults, and scholars like Sir James Frazer and Joseph Campbell, who saw Christianity as reinterpreting ancient themes of death, rebirth, and salvation. In the realm of history, there have been several decades of debate about what happened in such mystery cults. These cults were not only common but prominent. Practically every religious school of thought had a cult.

As such, their inner teachings and practices were often considered a sacred secret, something one must learn through not just being initiated but also trained. It was not just information but a transformation to be experienced. Some historians and researchers have proposed that there were plays, readings, songs, and dramatic reenactments for such initiations.

Carl Ruck, alongside Albert Hofmann and R. Gordon Wasson in The Road to Eleusis, added a psychedelic dimension by proposing that the famed Eleusinian Mysteries, a cornerstone of ancient spirituality, were fueled by kykeon, a psychoactive barley-based brew created from ergot. Ruck’s work suggested that altered states of consciousness weren’t symbolic but pharmacologically real, bridging the mortal and divine.

Brian Muraresku picks up this thread, combining historical, archaeological, and chemical evidence to argue that Christianity inherited and adapted these traditions, including potentially psychedelic elements, in its early sacramental practices. By marrying the Pagan Origins Hypothesis with psychedelic research, Muraresku reframes the mystical origins of Christianity as part of a long, plant-enhanced spiritual lineage.

Brian’s Theory

Brian Muraresku proposes that paleo-Christianity and its Eucharistic practices may share roots in ancient, psychedelic-infused religious rituals originating in the pagan world. His “Pagan Origin Hypothesis with a Psychedelic Twist” suggests that the transformative and mystical experiences central to Christianity—such as the promise of eternal life and heavenly visions—were heavily adopted from cultural practices common in the Greco-Roman world that used psychedelic substances in ceremonies.

A transcendental practice of facing death, in some sense, he argues was common and ancient, something in Egyptian and Middle Eastern societies and spirituality. In other words, it wasn’t unique to the Romans but rather commonly existed well before they took over the world. He attempts to bridge archaeology, philology, and modern scientific analysis to argue that these secretive rituals, particularly those of Eleusis and Dionysian cults, served as a prototype for Christian sacraments. Christianity thus used this practice in their own Eucharist with Jesus as the centerpiece of a new cult that undercut the Greco-Roman socioeconomic and religious state structure

.…need a drink yet? Perhaps…something heavier? …couldn’t help myself…

Core Sections and Supporting Evidence

1. The Mysteries of Eleusis and the Greek Connection

“All who drink from the sacred chalice at Eleusis experience death before they die.”

Brian’s Key Idea: The Eleusinian Mysteries, a Greek ritual lasting over 2,000 years, were central to ancient spirituality. Participants consumed a potion called the kykeon that may have contained ergot (a psychoactive fungus) to induce mystical experiences.

Evidence: Archaeological digs in Eleusis reveal remains of barley, a key ingredient in kykeon, possibly tainted with ergot (a common fungus that grows on wheat). References in ancient texts (e.g., Plato, Pindar) allude to transcendental states achieved during the Mysteries, often with other plant (and even animal) recipes.

Drinking the urine of Siberian reindeer who eat the Amanita muscaria is now a commonly known source for some of our modern Christmas traditions. Some animals produce these kinds of chemicals. Brian’s evidence from Eleusis is now but one of hundreds. The evidence is popping up from all over the world about the prominence of psychedelics in humanity’s past.

Much of this section sets the scene and creates a compelling opening narrative for the reader to reconsider not just the Pagan Origin Hypothesis but also the “psychedelic twist.” In a nutshell, Brian covers a swath of information that makes a compelling scene of ancient practices around the dead while teasing the rest of the book.

He brings in a few things to set a scene where ancient practices around psychedelic and psychoactive plants, and also alcohol (a plant-derived substance), were integral parts of society and ritual. Human society then didn’t have a clear line between religion and state, nor between science and spirituality. These chemicals were used by humans to connect with the divine.

A big point Brian attempts to make is that humanity’s spiritual search always engaged with the dead, in some capacity, and dealing with our mortality: either visiting the dead, honoring them, or going to the underworld and experiencing them. He may have been able to articulate this a bit better but it is, in some sense, what he’s referring to when he speaks of an ancient “religion without a name.”

I’d contend he’s on to something – our spiritual endeavors have always been about dealing with our place in the world and, as such, addressing our existential certainty. Brian lays a history showing an underlying psychedelic trend in ancient religious movements, cults, and spiritual practices from around the Mediterranean.

On a side note, this was one of many points I had to disconnect and go investigate. So, on this one point – Brian is more than right. Psychedelics are on every continent and in every civilization’s history. Psychedelics are not a single thing but a diversity of plants (and animals) that produce a reported vast range of effects. Sometimes a god was associated with a specific plant, like Atum and the White Lily in Egyptian mythology or a Juaguar/Snake with Ayahuasca. Evidence keeps coming out. It could be easily theorized that the unique characteristics of such psychedelic experiences could also show up in how these beings were characterized. We’ll come back to this as the rest of Brian’s book kept bringing up examples.

2. Dionysian Rites and the Wine of the Gods

“This is not just wine; it’s the wine of immortality.”

Brian’s Key Idea: The cult of Dionysus, centered on wine and ecstatic ritual, was another influential precursor to early Christian sacramental practices.

Evidence: Chemical residue analysis from ancient pottery shows evidence of spiked wine infused with hallucinogenic herbs, including henbane and opium. Artwork and inscriptions link Dionysian celebrations to themes of death, rebirth, and divine communion.

By setting the scene, Brian shows how the god, Dionysus, was not just a god, but central for Greco propaganda and Alexader the Great, the man who spread an empire of Hellenism over the known world. Central to Dionysus was wine but not just any wine. The way they made wine back then was not how we make wine today – it was weaker in ethanol content. They didn’t have specific names for such psychoactive substances but they did call them all, including alcohol,… pharmakeia (what we’ve translated as witchcraft).

The number of names that come up is impressive for figures who went just through the Dionysian cults: Socrates, Alexander the Great, his tutor, Aristotle, playwrights like Sophocles and later emperor Marcus Aurelius, and Pathagyrus used psychedelics. And this is but one cult of one god.

Throughout his book, Brian makes a point about women’s roles in such spiritual practices and communities. He posits that women were often the part and gatekeepers of such traditions. Brian then provides a historical narrative showing how men, before Christianity and after, had used religious institutions and control of them to enforce societal expectations and galvanize control.

There was a point in the book that I couldn’t help but mutter, “We’ve always been looking for witches to burn.” For many Christians, this may be a point that is too much for them to consider and wrestle with. The Immortality Key shows a clear history of humanity where we struggle with control and power, and how the sexes have been a part of it. We then use sex, society, and economy to appease the masses while providing a structure of control and perceived belonging. We’ll save more thoughts on this for a future post.

By this point in the book, Brian’s negative feelings about Christianity clearly influence how he spins the story. Modern “Christianity,” as a concept, has some baggage – we get that – but there is not one Christianity nor has there been for a long time. His book also shows this. By the end of the book, however, Brian’s insistence that history is not homogenously linear and that there is a vast depth and diversity among schools and theories should also be applied to how Christianity first undercut the Roman empire, then rose from within it, and diversified as it spread. When we talk about such things, we’re talking about humans and history in a past world without the things we take for granted today.

What he is talking about is not a “Christian” problem – it’s a human problem.

3. Psychedelics in the Ancient World

“The sacred plants of antiquity are not myths; they are the seeds of revelation.”

Brian’s Key Idea: Psychedelic substances were not limited to Greek and Roman contexts but were widespread in ancient religious practices globally.

Evidence: Archeological evidence from Catalhoyuk (Turkey) and Neolithic caves shows psychoactive residues in ceremonial vessels. Comparative studies with other shamanistic cultures (e.g., Siberian Amanita mushroom rituals) emphasize the universality of altered states in religious contexts.

Brian’s journey primarily focuses on the Mediterranean but includes insights from American traditions and modern science. From the Soma of the Hindu Vedas to Pyhtagyrus’ cult, Brian lays a solid historical context that can’t be unseen. His ideas align with Carl Jung’s theories of archetypes, suggesting a shared spiritual language across humanity. Mesoamerican and Aboriginal cosmologies feature the corresponding archetypes and psychedelics are a part of their sacred practices. Mesoamerican cultures revered psychoactive plants like peyote while Inca and modern Amazonian shamans reverence Ayahuasca (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2173580814001527). The Aboriginal psychedelic practices and Dreamtime incorporate altered states of consciousness.

Intriguingly, the Aztec concept of the Milky Way’s “dark constellation” includes a llama figure, called Yacana. Just thought everyone should know.

Brian’s hypothesis captures a truth far broader than the Greco-Roman roots of Western culture. Psychedelics were not anomalies; they were woven into the fabric of spiritual life worldwide, pointing to a universal human tendency to seek transcendence—whether through spirituality, religion, substances, meditation, mythology, or shared rituals. This insight goes beyond psychedelics to touch on humanity’s collective psychology and spiritual heritage.

4. The Early Christian Eucharist

“What was passed down in secrecy by the early Christians was far more dangerous than simple wine.”

Brian’s Key Idea: Early Christian communities may have preserved psychedelic traditions through their Eucharistic practices, later sanitized by orthodox Christianity.

Evidence: Early Christian art and catacomb murals feature images of wine and bread in symbolic settings, resembling Dionysian imagery. References in the works of Church Fathers, such as Justin Martyr and Tertullian, highlight debates over the mystical and transformative power of the Eucharist.

The bad taste in Brian’s mouth over Christianity is a bit much at this point in the book. He suggests that the Christian Eucharist was “just” a Greco-Roman mystery cult “knockoff.” There are plenty of points a person can nit-pick and argue over interpretation – this is one I have. If mystery cults were prominent and common, if they were a backbone of society, if these spiritual practices, as he suggests, spread out in the common masses, then Christinaity’s “magic” wasn’t what was in its holy chalice, but rather in its message, in its Gospel that took the rug out from under Caesar and offered peace and salvation to anyone, despite what leader was over their state.

It was actually this disagreement with Brian that drove me to dive more into comparative religious studies, with a conviction to Narrative Theology, to consider what happens during trips.

In our highly individual and egoic world, we may think about psychedelics from that frame – it’s not the right frame. Setting, Context, and Intent are incredibly important words in psychedelic research and environments. They are words I’ve already stolen for other things. Each pagan mystery cult may have had its psychedelic, and so to the Christians. Each also had a setting, context, and intent, a worldview and “philosophy” attached to it. It is not as reducible as Brian makes it seem. If paleo-Christians had these plants in their Eucharist and practices, just like everyone else, then what was different was everything else.

This captures a bit of my “Eureka!” moment and this is where I think modern Christians will wrestle most with – the Bible was experienced, written, and taught by people who were not only open to psychedelics but used them, maybe even as they were writing them.

The questions of Western theology over things like ineffability, the inspiration of Scripture, and systematic theology were instantly erased. An older Christian concept stood out as a Pearl of Great Price. It wasn’t Brian’s book or psychedelics – it was mysticism. Before this book, I was already on a journey and had suddenly realized I was a Christian mystic while trying to deconstruct and reconstruct my worldview.

5. The Catholic Church and the War on Psychedelics

“To control the Eucharist is to control the gateway to God.”

Brian’s Key Idea: Over time, the institutional Church erased the psychedelic component of the Eucharist, replacing it with symbolic rituals devoid of pharmacological power.

Evidence: Texts from medieval inquisitors and reformers systematically condemn “heretical” practices involving potions or brews. The shift from community-driven secret rites to codified doctrine coincides with the political and institutional consolidation of the Church.

Muraresku highlights how texts from the medieval Church condemned “heretical” practices, particularly those involving potions or brews believed to have psychoactive properties. These accusations often targeted women and marginalized groups, portraying their rituals as witchcraft, which led to the suppression of sacred pharmacology. The Inquisition’s targeting of alternative religious practices effectively erased many traditions linked to the use of entheogens in spiritual contexts.

The shift from community-based mystical rites to institutionalized doctrine coincided with the Church’s consolidation of political power. Muraresku draws parallels between the rise of centralized religious authority and the loss of esoteric traditions, which were often deemed heretical and systematically eradicated. The Eucharist became a symbolic ritual devoid of its original pharmacological power, a move that aligned with broader institutional goals of control and standardization.

Muraresku explores catacombs, ancient art, and early Christian symbols to suggest continuity between pagan mystery religions and Christian rituals. He uncovers imagery that hints at sacred wine’s transformation into a symbol for communion, possibly pointing to an earlier tradition of spiked sacramental beverages.

From the beginning of his book to the end, Brian offers evidence of how Western expansion used Christianity to stomp out pagan and ancient spiritual practices that would compete with the Eucharist. By the end, it’s hard to unsee. From Africans to the Incas, once Constantine made Jesus’ kingdom “of this world,” those in power used their assumed Christian faith to demonize and stigmatize such practices and spirituality.

Native Americans, when the war on drugs was underway, pleaded with Congress and called peyote their Holy Communion. Spiritual propaganda is par and course for how a kingdom of this world works. Nationalism and politics are string throughout church history.

In Conclusion…

Brian will refer to psychedelics as the longest-kept secret in history – and I get it now. However, this is an early field and just starting – the interpretations and implications are much bigger, smaller, and more nuanced than simply people taking psychedelics. I live in a town that has ample evidence, and we have plenty of history and science, showing that simply isn’t the case. They can be used for good, clearly. They can also wreak havoc and make monsters. This will cause tensions in families, and local churches, as people begin to investigate.

They also don’t “have” to be used for the spiritual experience and awakening Brian, correctly, implies our world needs – mindfulness practices, healthy relationships, and honest spirituality are more than enough. Recovery, therapy, meditation, journaling, and studying were enough to make me start waking up and open up a missing side of my faith.

My biggest hope is that Christian leaders and lay people would take the subject matter as a matter of study and scholarship seriously. We can begin having honest conversations. This psychedelic evidence is going to change theology and church scholarship. It is what it is. God is not shocked by all of this.

We’ll dive more into how this evidence impacted my theology, how that impacted my personal life, and what the implications are for the church in the future.

Stay tuned for Part 2 and a post of available curated evidence.