An Aquarian Age

This separation of history into two ages, the old and the new, linked to the turning of astrological timetables and the associated ethos of the zodiacal constellations. Each astrological age corresponds to the time taken for the vernal equinox to pass through the appropriate constellation, though the beginning or ending of an astrological age and the boundary of the constellation may not necessarily coincide.¹ The ‘old’ age is thus aligned with the constellation of Pisces, and the ‘new’ with Aquarius.² Monotheism and a dualistic separation between God, or the divine, and humanity dominate the Piscean era: it is an age subject to war, injustice, competition and division; it has a mechanistic paradigm in which religion has marginalised spirituality, rationalism has ousted intuition and anthropocentrism has led to the domination of creation.³ Exoteric religion in general, and institutional Christianity in particular, are specifically criticised for perpetuating Piscean characteristics in society at large.⁴ However, New Age visions of the past frequently over-generalise and conflate history and myth, essentially through a lack of interest in the study of history, consequently diminishing the sting of the critique.⁵

By contrast, the new Age of Aquarius will epitomize all that has been missing or marginalised in the Piscean era. It will be a period of peace, harmony and wholeness, with the old Piscean dualisms broken down and new horizons opening up. It should be noted that there is significant variation in the degree and scope of the Aquarian vision: the early David Spangler, for instance, is far more radical in his pronouncements than his later, more moderate writings; George Trevelyan advocates a wholesale transformation of ‘man’ (sic) with the ‘death’ of the old and the ‘resurrection’ of the new higher self, whereas Neal Donald Walsch argues that simply realising that ‘we are the hope of humanity,’ and that ‘all the wisdom you will ever need is within you,’ will precipitate the necessary changes.⁶

There is considerable disparity in identifying what might initiate the transition from the old to the new. Whilst some form of crisis or turning point is widely assumed, opinions vary over whether it will be a point of tragedy before ultimate salvation, or a moment of sublime hope before inevitable disaster.⁷ Still less certainty is available over timings. Some argue that it has already arrived; some that it may not arrive before the middle of the twenty-first century.⁸ Nonetheless, it is widely held that this is a period of transition from a Piscean to an Aquarian age.

Christian understanding of the Kingdom of God has a different emphasis with regard to the transition of the ages. Whereas the Age of Aquarius is in large part determined by the turning of the heavens, the Kingdom of God is a predisposition of God. Ancient Israel had the opportunity to live within this divine reign but rejected it in demanding to have a king like other nations.⁹ The prophets deepened and broadened the vision, setting out the basis for its embodiment. But Jesus’ announcement of the Kingdom was simultaneously an inauguration of the restoration of Israel, a protest at the social inequalities of second-Temple Palestine, a proclamation of a brokerless kingdom (in juxtaposition to Israel’s monarchic past) on behalf of the oppressed with an invitation to any in need to participate, and an embodiment of God’s coming to power in unconditional will for the good.¹⁰ Jesus both announced and enacted the Kingdom of God. And nothing changed. But everything changed. And the change experienced was (and is) determined by: the response to the invitation to follow him;¹¹ the response of those who felt welcome who had once been outsiders;¹² the response of those who felt the challenge to live as a new covenant people;¹³ and the response to the summons to a new praxis.¹⁴ Consequently, the Kingdom of God announced by Jesus is both ‘now’ and ‘not yet.’¹⁵

Footnotes