Preface from Athena and Kain


The content of this book is revolutionary. I suggest you begin by flipping through and reading the summary at the beginning of each chapter. That will give you a good overview and a sense of where the theme is headed.

Athena and Kain is based on a simple premise: if the Book of Genesis is true, then those truths in Genesis which pertain to humanity as a whole (Eden, the Flood, the Tower of Babel) must be recorded in the “myths” of the dominant ancient Greek Mediterranean culture. If we are all part of the same human race, with the same origin as described in Genesis, this has to be the case. Proceeding on this premise, and relying on the work of meticulous scholars, solid evidence, and common sense, we find that the Greek myths tell the same story as the early chapters of the Book of Genesis, except from the point of view that the serpent is the enlightener of mankind rather than its deceiver. The evidence substantiates the premise: the Judeo-Christian and Greek religious traditions parallel each other, and both record the true history of humanity, yet from opposite standpoints.

Without the Book of Genesis as a guide, Greek vase-paintings and sculptures present us with an amalgam of ambiguous elements whose meaning we cannot satisfactorily discern. But with Genesis as a frame of reference, ancient Greek art begins to make sense to us. No longer trapped in a fuzzy mental realm full of perplexing gods and befuddling stories, we begin to see the remarkably clear and coherent messages painted on vases and carved in marble by our ancestors. The best part comes when you see that this new understanding is not so much profound as it is obvious.

Kain, Kaineus, and Kentaurs

Vase-painting showing Kentaurs pounding Kaineus into the ground.

Why Kain instead of Cain? The Greek Scriptures (Matthew to Revelation) were originally written in uppercase Greek. The name of the man, Kain, written as “KAIN,” appears three times (Hebrews 11:4, I John 3:12, and Jude 11). On the François vase from the 6th century BC, a certain man being pounded into the ground by Kentaurs is identified as “KAINEUS.” As we shall see in Chapter 7, both names refer to the same man. Keeping the original spelling helps maintain a connection that is essential to understanding the basic truth of ancient Greek religion: it chronicles the reestablishment of the way of Kain after the Flood.

I don’t know why the King James scholars translated KAIN as Cain, or why Robert Graves translated KAINEUS as Caeneus, but both translations tend to disguise the fact that the ancient names represent the same person.

The Greek word usually translated as “centaur” is Kentauros. In a very significant Greek myth, Kentaurs, half-men/half-horses, kill some ancient Lapiths (Flint-chippers) and carry off their women (Chapter 6). Scholars capitalize Lapith because it represents a specific group of people. They think of the half-men/half-horses, however, as strange animals who represent barbarianism, and so they use the lowercase “centaur.” The truth is that the Kentaurs represent what the Greeks considered to be a “strange branch” of humanity—the line of Seth, the offspring of Adam’s and Eve’s youngest son. Thus, as the name of a particular group, it should be capitalized, and to emphasize that fact, I keep the original Kappa, or K; therefore, Kentaur.

One more thing. To really understand this, you’ll need to think like the ancient Greeks. If you don’t realize it now, by the time you’re finished reading the introduction, you’ll be happy to find out that in many ways you already think like the ancient Greeks.

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