Simon’s Last Trick
Bill DeArmond
So you want to know about that last day? What did you say your name was? Hippopotamus? It’s been so long ago and my mind’s not so clear anymore. But, yes, I do clearly remember Simon’s last trick. How could I forget the worst day of my life?
I have to take you back fifty years when Simon and I first met. I’m still a little ashamed about it. But Simon always said I shouldn’t look back, only forward. I did what I had to do to survive, then Simon saved me. From that time to now I have lived a new life as a whole person. You will see what that means.
I had been working in this brothel for about a year, maybe more, selling or trading the only asset I had for whatever I could get to keep myself going. One night in walks this fairly handsome guy, but kind of scary, you know, with these really vibrant, intense eyes. Eyes that could look right through you straight into your soul. But he was interesting, not like the low-life clients I usually have to put up with. He didn’t look like he had much money, but there was a cocky air of mystery about him that said “This guy is a Mister!” And he had these smooth hands, not like these farmers, carpenters, and such. And these penetrating eyes.
He came around almost every night for a couple of weeks. We got to know each other pretty well. He’d pay to stay. Talk’s not cheap, you know. But he had a deepness about him I’d never known before. But it was maybe the third time before he asked me my name. And of course, as you know, it’s Helena. So he gets all rhapsodic-like...I know what the word means. He told me he used to spend all his time in this library and he remembered some stories by a guy named Homer, a rhapsode, and he used to... I’ve forgotten my point.
Oh, so he said I was as beautiful as Helen of Troy. So I said I’ve heard of a Troy around here but no special Helen. So that’s why he told me about the Trojan War and how she started it because she had a face to launch ships, and that’s what he got from this library.
So, anyway, he started calling me his Helen of Troy, and since my name was Helena, I didn’t mind that much. But later he wanted to change my name to Sophia and he’d call himself Logos but I thought those names were pretty dumb, so that didn’t stick. But he explains to me his “philosophy” and how those names were important, so I tolerated it for a while.
So he tells me that he’s working up this act he’s going to take on the road, sort of a traveling spiritual magic show, and he needed a lovely assistant and would I run off with him. Well, he was sort of cute and dark and I’d get to travel and perform, so I said sure. And that’s how it all began.
Like I told you, Simon didn’t have any money, but he was really ambitious. He grew up in Alexandria and got a job cleaning out the library, dusting the scrolls, doing errands for the scholars in exchange for lessons. He learned to read and speak four languages. They let him hang around their discussions and tolerated his questions, although even then he had these ideas that they thought naîve.
So Simon, who’d never known his real father, grew up surrounded by all these surrogates. Remember, these were the greatest minds in the known world. Great astronomers and mathematicians, theologians and artists. So while the others looked at the night sky to determine the luminescence of distance of a star, Simon was more interested in what “caused” them to be there in the first place. The scholars said nothing caused them to be there, they just were. Or they gave him some creation mythology he felt was condescending. In all the time he had lived in the Library, Simon never thought of himself as a spiritual person. That was all soon to change.
Her close friends called her Maggie, and Simon soon became one of them. He first met her while just into his 20s, she in her 30’s. He felt a strange attraction/aversion toward her. There was a tremendous sadness about her that smothered him. She had lost so much—her husband, her homeland. Forced to flee and live her life under a false identity. Constantly afraid that those who framed and executed her husband would one day come knocking on her door. But Alexandria was inviting, friendly, full of those who felt her disenfranchisement, finding themselves in a strange world ruled by an alien god.
She tantalized and teased Simon for years. Telling him her story one fragment at a time. She talked about that last moment with her husband. What his last words were to her before he passed. And the morning they came and took his body away—“for safe-keeping,” they said. “So it can’t be defiled or used for political or religious propaganda. There is great power in this body.”
“How ironic,” she told Simon. “I have no idea where they buried him but his power is with me every day. I will share that secret knowledge with you someday...when you are ready.”
That day came sooner than anyone had anticipated. For the word went out to Alexandria that “they” knew where she was...she and her children...his children. They could not be allowed to survive.
So the decision was made to pile into a small, leaky old boat and head for the coast of France. I mean, France? Why would anyone in his or her right mind go to France?
The night before they set sail, Maggie found Simon alone on the beach staring out into the blackness of the sea. She took his hand as they sat on the sand, listening to the water bringing change upon the world, one wave at a time. They could see the great lighthouse standing majestically in the harbor, a pale sentinel of the last vestige of the free spirit.
Maggie told Simon that they would probably not meet again in this life, but that Simon should continue to spread the “word” if he should feel the calling. She had this Greek word for it...gnus...gnos...I could never pronounce it correctly. Simon said it meant “knowledge,” so I said why don’t they just call it that. Simon just shook his head.
I’m going to try to remember as much of what she told Simon as I can. It’s been a while and Simon would change it around a bit depending on the temperament of the crowd. I may have to paraphrase some of it, but this is what Simon says she told to him that final night.
“These are the secret sayings which my husband spoke. If you understand them, then you will never experience death. I will give you what no eye has ever seen and what no hand has ever touched and what has never occurred to the human mind.”
“Most people live their lives in oblivion and they experience this as terror and confusion, pain and suffering, doubt and division. They are caught in the many illusions of this world. If you remain ignorant and a creature of this oblivion, you will never experience fulfillment. Self-ignorance is a form of self-destruction.”
“The secret to life, to God, to knowledge is simple, but the path is hard.”
“Live according to your mind. Acquire strength, for the mind is strong. Enlighten your mind. If you do not know yourself, then you know nothing. But he who does know himself already has achieved knowledge about the depths of all things.”
“There is a light within a man of light, and he lights up the whole world. If he does not shine, he is darkness. Light the lamp within you.”
“Do not look for God above you, nor in the temple, nor the church. The kingdom is inside you, and it is outside you. When you come to know yourself then you will realize that you are the son of a living father.”
“And so, my dear Simon, this is what I leave with you. If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”
And then she was gone, swept by the morning tide. But she had touched him and changed the direction of his life forever. And so Simon spent the next four years in diligent application of every bit of knowledge he could glean from the scrolls about philosophy, mysticism, alchemy and magic, and every gem of wisdom he could squeeze from his fathers.
And then he met me. He said I was the last piece of his puzzle, Sophia to his Logos. And so began our journey together—Simon the Magician and His Amazing Miracles of the Spirit. With, of course, his lovely assistant Helena.
Simon used magic like lightning to gather the crowds to hear the thunder, the fires burning in his eyes. He could mesmerize a crowd, hold them in a trance, caught in the power of his words until, drained beyond continuing, he would let them go.
He did put on a great show but, you know, I think deep in his heart he sincerely believed in what he was saying. The power to save the poor, the weak, those who cared for no one for no one cared for them. How much he burned to share “the secret” with them, to make them see with new eyes, to live fully for the first time—a rebirth of their spirit, a connection with the divine.
For the first few years nobody really bothered Simon—just another itinerant zealot wandering the back roads scratching out a living. But as more people began to listen and ask, “Why is my life like this?” the more Simon’s fame began to grow. We thought it was time to take our show to the center of the empire—Rome. That’s when Peter came into our lives.
Simon had this idea that since we were touring Greece and Italy, he’d spice things up by billing himself as Faustus, the Magician. Yeah, I know it sounds strange but he said it meant “the favored one” so he thought maybe the crowds would think somebody anointed him. But really, it was just Simon showing off again.
I can’t remember in which town Paul first showed up, but it was right after we entered Italy. Paul was one of these exponents of “the way” or “the wave” or something like that. He would watch politely as Simon did his act. Secretly, I think Paul was fascinated by it and a bit jealous. But just as soon as Simon started into his message, Paul would begin to heckle him, shouting taunts and jeers until either Simon shut up or the crowd beat Paul into submission. But you know, towards the end Paul and Simon became, well, not really friends, but respectful of each other.
Paul maintained the current orthodox theology when it came to omnipotence and the all-powerful Creator God, and thought Simon’s revisionist attitude was absurd.
See, Simon had this idea that we are all created with two brains. I know that sounds like a hoot—two brains! He called one of the brains a “nous,” or a Thinking Mind, and the other was an “epinoia,” or The Thought. That’s where he got this idea to call us Logos and Sophia. But, like I said, I killed that one.
So we’ve got this one male brain and this one female both in our heads and neither brain is complete without the other one. Well, I can kind of see that, because you have the man who is logical, most of the time, and the female who is emotional, some of the time. So the goal in your life is to strike a balance between them.
Where Simon and Paul got into it was over this story about Adam and Eve. So Paul contends that Eve was the bad apple, so to speak, because she used her sex-thing to tempt Adam into disobeying God because this was his special tree. So God got mad that they turned their back on him and called this the Original Sin, and we all have to spend our lives doing mea culpa trying to get back into God’s grace.
Simon believed that the Creator God was originally like this two-brain thing I told you about, both male and female, which is a good thing, you know. When Adam and Eve ate from this sacred tree of knowledge, then WHAM! They got hit with this brilliant light and they realized that they were part of God—both contained his Godly spirit. So they got tired of being treated like God’s pets, and they wanted their own individual identity. So, like all children do, they rebelled and God kicked them out of the house.
When this Logos, the patriarchal, hateful side of God, did this, he unknowingly alienated his own Sophia, his feminine wisdom. He turned into what Simon called a demiurge, or this demon of wrath and vengeance. Sophia knew that Adam and Eve weren’t prepared to go it alone and would need a guide. So she went along as a spirit hidden inside them. So when they found themselves in some trouble, usually caused by Logos, they could turn inward and Sophia would come out to help.
So our entire history has been trying to get the family back together again. But this was impossible before this guy Jesus, because Judaism was still following the Torah, or the Rule of Law from this vengeful demiurge. And the pagans, don’t let me get started on them. Anyway they were too busy paganizing to think much about any God, except Dionysus maybe.
It was this Jesus who became the Great Healer, the Arbitrator, the Reconciler. He was the first to recognize that he truly had the way to access both Logos AND Sophia—the original spirit of creation.
Well, you can bet the nasty demiurge God was ready for this to take place. He had been spouting wrath and vengeance for so long it didn’t excite him any more. He had been lonely and fragmented for a long time. He gave one of his enlightened creatures, one of his sons, the power to lead him to a reunion with Sophia once again. And so they reside for eternity in the Christ within, so that all the sons and daughters might look deep into their souls with the candle of enlightenment and find their way back home.
That’s a nice story, don’t you think? Nothing to get someone killed over is it? Because it’s just a fable. Kind of hard to believe. Us needing TWO brains. I have enough trouble making the one I got work. I guess I could have used a spare one. But that still doesn’t seem like something that would make two grown men resort to fighting words. Words was all it was. Until that last day.
Simon had this way of stirring up a crowd. Oh, you should have seen him, the way he’d taunt them, but in a good way, just to get them interested in his message about the two brains. So here we are in Rome about to do our first show and he started making this noise on the steps of the senate no less. He got the attention of all those in the market and he railed at them: “Tomorrow I shall leave you impious and wicked ones and shall repair above to God whose power I am. Whereas ye have fallen, behold, I am He-who-stands.”
He had a great way with the language. Could have been an actor...well, I guess in a way he was. So I knew he was going to try that disastrous levitation trick again the next day at the Castle of Cagliostro.
I’m not going to tell you everything but it involved a harness, a rope painted the color of the roof and a weighted bag, which would be attached to one end and I’d toss it down the other side. This couldn’t be seen, you know, by those watching the show. Simon would give his speech about the two brains and then strike this pose for dramatic effect. That was my signal to roll the weight off the roof and he’d slowly ascend into the air. When he’d get to the top of the roof he’d duck down or hide behind a turret or chimney, untie the rope and we’d be gone before anybody thought about looking on the other side of the building.
Only this time something went terribly wrong. Simon did his thing, made his gesture, and I heaved the sack over the cornice. He started slowly upward for five stories, but then I heard this SNAP! If he’d had just a few more seconds he’d been able to grab onto the roof, but he fell into the courtyard below. I didn’t need to look down. I could tell from the crowd’s reaction that Simon was gone.
The strangest thing was right before the rope broke, I heard someone who sounded like Peter yell, “Burn in hell, you old devil.”
Nobody came forward to help Simon, to even see if he were still alive. They were merely staring at him in his shame—a charlatan caught in his own trick. When I finally got to him and covered him with my cloak, I noticed the slack end of the rope about twenty feet from his body. Only half the strands were frayed from the weight of Simon’s body. The rest were neatly cut through.
So that’s the story of my Simon’s last trick. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. I don’t guess it will be long before I see him again.
What’s the point? What do I want people to remember about Simon Magus? He was just a man who wanted to talk to his God on his terms. He was the kindest, more spiritual person I’ve ever known. Funniest, too. He was a man of Truth, but most didn’t take him seriously. Somewhere it got lost in all the magic. And his reputation suffered from that last trick. It was a killer, you know.
Because you’ve been so patient with an old woman’s ramblings, I’m going to tell you one last final secret. Simon never told another living soul save me the last words Maggie heard her husband whisper to her at the moment of his death: “I am never far away from you. You hold me forever in you heart. I loved you before; I love you now, and forever. I will come to you in your dreams.”
I am ready tonight to embrace Simon...again.
One final thing, young man. I said earlier that Simon rescued me from my life of sin and saved my soul. But really, our love redeemed each other, made us whole, for that is the way it is always meant to be. Sophia and Logos. Two brains. Huh.
Write this about Simon if you must. He was a gentle soul with a tormented spirit. Good man. Bad magician.
But...oh...those eyes...
A word to the reader:
This story is purely fiction but it is based on historical fact and scholarly speculation. Simon Magus is considered the Father of Gnosticism. Historians believe he grew up in Alexandria and was educated in the shadow of the Great Library. He left Alexandria and began his traveling mix of magic and mysticism 17 years after the crucifixion. His constant companion until the end was Helena, a redeemed prostitute.
In Rome he billed himself as Faustus, the Magician, thus serving as the model for plays by Marlowe and Goethe. He died under unusual circumstances while performing a feat of levitation.
Nobody knows who tampered with the rope.
There is historical speculation (most notably in Holy Blood, Holy Grail and The DaVinci Code) that a very pregnant Mary Magdalene, Mother Mary, Joseph of Arimathea, and others in their entourage, fled Jerusalem within a year after the death of Jesus. Mary gave birth to a daughter named Sarah. They remained there in the shadow of the Great Library for a dozen years before they set sail for France.
It is possible Mary Magdalene and Simon Magus crossed paths.
If they did, it is likely they talked...
