Hitler and the Spear of Destiny

 Hitler and the Spear of Destiny

Powered by RedCircle

In 33AD on a hill called Golgotha, a Roman centurion named Longinus stood before the crucified Jesus of Nazareth. Tasked with ensuring the death of the condemned, he thrust his spear into Jesus’ side. Blood and water flowed, a moment seared into Christian theology as a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. This act gave birth to the Spear of Longinus, the Holy Lance, a relic and a legend that would persist through history, entwining divine mystery with human ambition. From its biblical origins to its role in crusades, imperial courts, and the dark obsessions of the Third Reich, the Spear’s story is one of faith, power, and enigma. Thisepisode traces its origins, from triumph at Antioch, to the Nazis’ rituals surrounding it in the early stages of WW2, and the competing claims of authenticity of other spears to today.

The Spear of Longinus first emerges in the Gospel of John, the only canonical Gospel to record the piercing of Jesus’ side. John 19:34 states, “But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water.” This act, confirming Jesus’ death, carries profound theological weight: fulfilling old testament prophecy and setting the stage for the resurrection. The soldier, unnamed in scripture, is later identified as Longinus in the 4th-century apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus. This text claims Longinus, partially blind, was healed by the blood, converting to Christianity. Though not historically verifiable, this story elevated the Spear to a relic of divine power.

The Spear of Longinus at the Crucifixion

No early text describes the Spear’s appearance or fate, and no apostolic-era church claimed to possess it. Unlike the True Cross or Crown of Thorns, which became focal points of veneration, the Spear remained elusive, its significance growing only later as relics became conduits to the divine.

After the Crucifixion, the Spear vanishes from record, leaving a void filled by speculation. Early Christians may have preserved it in Jerusalem, but no evidence confirms this. Around 570 AD, the pilgrim Antoninus of Piacenza described a lance in Jerusalem’s Basilica of Mount Zion, venerated as the one that pierced Christ. Its fate during the Persian invasion of 614 AD, which ravaged Jerusalem’s relics, is unknown.

By the 7th century, a lance appeared in Constantinople, enshrined in the Hagia Sophia by Emperor Justinian II as a symbol of divine protection. Its origins—possibly from Jerusalem or crafted as a relic—are unclear. Byzantine emperors carried it into battle, believing it ensured victory. During the Iconoclastic controversies of the 8th and 9th centuries, its whereabouts grew uncertain, but it reappeared in 10th-century records under Emperor Constantine VII. The Spear’s early history is fragmented, its mystique growing despite no clear chain of custody.

In 1098, the First Crusade faced collapse in Antioch. Besieged by a Seljuk army under Kerbogha, the starving Crusaders were galvanized by Peter Bartholomew, a peasant claiming visions from St. Andrew revealing the Holy Lance’s location. On June 14, 1098, a rusted lance head was unearthed beneath the Church of St. Peter, hailed as a miracle. Carried into battle, it inspired a stunning victory over Kerbogha.

Skepticism soon arose. The lance’s modest appearance and Peter’s questionable visions drew doubts, notably from papal legate Adhemar of Le Puy. Peter’s trial by fire in 1099, meant to prove the lance’s authenticity, ended in his death from burns, and its credibility faded. Taken to Constantinople, it joined the Byzantine collection but was dismissed as a fraud. The Antioch Lance’s story highlights relics’ power to inspire, even if suspect.

Post-Antioch, multiple lances emerged, each claiming authenticity. The Byzantine lance, looted during the Fourth Crusade in 1204, may have reached Paris, where King Louis IX enshrined a lance in the Sainte-Chapelle, later lost during the French Revolution. The Vienna Lance, appearing in the Holy Roman Empire under Otto I in the 10th century, symbolized divine favor, notably at the Battle of Lechfeld in 955. Later emperors enshrined it in Nuremberg. In Rome, the Vatican Lance surfaced in 1492, sent by Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II to Pope Innocent VIII, but its late appearance raised doubts. Each lance served political and religious agendas, their claims reflecting the medieval relic trade’s fervor and skepticism.

The Enlightenment and scientific inquiry challenged relic veneration. The French Revolution destroyed many artifacts, including the Parisian lance. The Vienna Lance endured in Vienna’s Hofburg Palace, the Vatican Lance remained in St. Peter’s, and the Echmiadzin Lance, in Armenia’s cathedral, emerged as a contender, though lacking early records.

The Vienna Lance’s modern story took a sinister turn with the Nazis, whose obsession with its supposed power led to its seizure and use in occult rituals, a chapter that reveals the relic’s enduring allure.

The Vienna Lance

The Nazis’ fascination with the Spear of Longinus, particularly the Vienna Lance, was rooted in a potent mix of historical reverence, occult ideology, and nationalist propaganda. Adolf Hitler’s interest began in his youth, during visits to Vienna’s Hofburg Palace in the early 1900s. As a struggling artist, he was captivated by the Imperial Treasury’s relics, including the Heilige Lanze, displayed as the spear that pierced Christ’s side. Trevor Ravenscroft’s 1973 book The Spear of Destiny, though speculative and criticized for blending fact with fiction, claims Hitler saw the lance in 1912 and felt a mystical connection, believing it held the power to shape history. While Ravenscroft’s account lacks primary evidence, it reflects the lance’s cultural allure in early 20th-century Europe, where esoteric movements flourished.

The Nazis’ interest crystallized in the 1930s under Heinrich Himmler, head of the SS, whose obsession with occultism drove the regime’s pursuit of mystical artifacts. Himmler established the Ahnenerbe, an SS research institute to explore Aryan mythology and ancient relics. The Spear, linked to emperors like Otto I and Charlemagne, was seen as a talisman of divine and imperial power, aligning with Nazi claims of Aryan destiny. Its legend—that it granted victory to its possessor but doom to those who lost it—resonated with Hitler’s vision of world domination.

The opportunity to seize the lance came with the Anschluss, the Nazi annexation of Austria in March 1938. On October 13, 1938, Hitler ordered the transfer of the Austrian Crown Jewels, including the Vienna Lance, to Nuremberg, the symbolic heart of Nazi rallies. The operation, overseen by Himmler, was executed with theatrical precision. The lance was transported by armored train, guarded by SS officers, and installed in St. Catherine’s Church in Nuremberg, a city tied to imperial history. The Nazis presented the lance as a symbol of their regime’s legitimacy, claiming continuity with the Holy Roman Empire.

What did the Nazis hope the Spear would do, and how did they engage with it through rituals? Their goals were twofold: practical and mystical. Practically, the lance was a propaganda tool, reinforcing the myth of Nazi invincibility by linking the regime to Christian and imperial history. Mystically, Himmler and the SS believed the lance held supernatural power to ensure victory or bend fate. This belief led to rituals, particularly at Wewelsburg Castle, Himmler’s occult headquarters in Westphalia, designed as a spiritual center for the SS.

Historical evidence for specific rituals is limited, as Nazi occult activities were secretive and poorly documented, with many records destroyed in 1945. However, accounts from SS defectors and post-war investigations, such as those by historian Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, provide some insight. At Wewelsburg, Himmler created a cult-like environment, with the castle’s North Tower housing a circular chamber called the “Hall of the Dead” or “Obergruppenführersaal.” Here, the SS conducted ceremonies blending Christian, pagan, and Arthurian symbolism, inspired by myths of the Holy Grail and the Spear. The Vienna Lance itself was not permanently housed at Wewelsburg—remaining in Nuremberg—but replicas or symbolic representations were reportedly used in rituals.

Wewelsberg Castle

These rituals, held during key SS gatherings, involved twelve high-ranking SS officers, mirroring the Knights of the Round Table, seated around a circular table in the Hall of the Dead. The lance, or its replica, was allegedly placed on a velvet-draped altar, surrounded by candles and SS runes, as a focal point for meditations on power and destiny. Himmler, influenced by occultists like Karl Maria Wiligut, believed the lance connected the SS to a cosmic force, channeling divine or ancestral energy to ensure Nazi victory. Ceremonies included oaths of loyalty, readings from Germanic sagas, and invocations of the lance’s historical wielders, such as Constantine and Charlemagne, to inspire the SS elite. Some accounts suggest blood rituals or symbolic reenactments of the Crucifixion piercing, though these are unverified and may be post-war exaggerations.

The rituals’ purpose was to unify the SS ideologically, casting them as a modern knightly order destined to fulfill a divine mission. Himmler saw the lance as a bridge between Christian tradition and his fabricated Aryan mythology, blending the relic’s sacred aura with Nazi racial ideology. While Hitler himself was skeptical of Himmler’s occult excesses, focusing more on the lance’s propaganda value, he tolerated these rituals as they reinforced SS loyalty and mystique.

The Nazis’ hopes were shattered as the war turned. In 1945, as Allied forces closed in, the lance was hidden in a vault beneath Nuremberg’s fortress. On April 30, 1945—coincidentally Hitler’s suicide—American troops, led by Lieutenant Walter Horn, recovered it. Returned to Vienna’s Hofburg in January 1946, the lance was later analyzed by Dr. Robert Feather in 2003, who dated it to the 7th or 8th century, confirming it as a Carolingian artifact, not the Crucifixion spear, debunking Nazi myths of its power.

The Nazi rituals, while rooted in delusion, underscore the Spear’s ability to captivate and manipulate. Their obsession transformed a medieval relic into a symbol of apocalyptic ambition, revealing the dangers of blending faith with fanaticism.

Evaluating the Spear’s candidates requires historical and scientific scrutiny. The Vienna Lance, a Carolingian artifact, is disqualified by its 7th-century dating, its Nazi rituals adding only mythical allure. The Vatican Lance, documented from 1492, likely a diplomatic gift, lacks credible provenance. The Echmiadzin Lance, tied to Armenia’s Christian tradition, is compelling but undocumented before the Middle Ages. The Antioch Lance, if it survived, is lost, its 1099 dismissal undermining its claim.

No candidate aligns with the Crucifixion’s timeline. The absence of early records and the 614 AD destruction of Jerusalem’s relics suggest the original spear was not preserved. The Spear’s true power lies in its symbolism, not its physical form.

The Spear of Longinus endures as a symbol, not an artifact. From Golgotha to Nazi rituals at Wewelsburg, its story reflects humanity’s quest for divine connection. In Vienna, Rome, or Armenia, the Spear’s candidates are mirrors of faith, power, and obsession. The Nazis’ rituals, blending Christian relic with pagan fantasy, only deepened its mystique, proving its power to inspire—whether for salvation or madness.

Comments