The Pandect

By editor in Teaching Anatomy August 19, 2025

The History of Writing

Almost every spiritual teaching is based on certain special texts that, in one form or another, present its doctrine and principles. Sometimes these are sacred scriptures, sometimes not quite. Sometimes they are dictated by some higher power, other times they are the works of the founder of the teaching or several authoritative figures. Sometimes they are considered sacred by the followers of the teaching, and sometimes they are merely working materials though respected ones. And at times, even texts that are not spiritual in nature are — albeit with a touch of irony — considered such scriptures, because they have become the foundation and expression of the spirit (in another sense) of a social, political, scientific, creative, or similar teaching or movement. In principle, such an approach is also valid — if we set aside the mental stereotype that obsessively and involuntarily appends “sacred” to the word “scriptures”.

The TUT is no exception. It also has its own scriptures. This is the pandect (ancient Greek: “containing everything”), which includes three books: Evor, Doron, and Epistole. Or more precisely, as of today, it includes three books. But let’s take it step by step.

When the revelation began, I didn’t even think about writing anything down. It just wasn’t the time for that. I was absorbing what Emere was saying and wanted only one thing: to know more and to grasp it more deeply. It took a year or more, plus the first attempts to retell the information I was receiving to my first disciple, for me to clearly understand: someday, somehow, all this would have to be set down in writing. The realisation immediately weighed me down with the burden of looming responsibility. By that time, I already had some experience writing fiction. My own assessment was that those attempts had failed. I rejected and destroyed all the results. In the end, I concluded that either I lacked the talent, or I simply wasn’t ready. Maybe I would ripen… Someday… In the relatively foreseeable future… And now I was overwhelmed — there’s no other word for it — by the understanding that the time had practically come to take up the pen and write. Not just anything, but something that would later become a spiritual support for many people. By then, over the past year, I had become acquainted with the Bible and already had an idea of the enormous importance of foundational scriptures. And I was taken aback by the realisation that this task would fall to me. But it was already clear that it would, and that there was no escaping it. Somewhere deep in my soul stirred a flicker of pleasure from… From the honor of being the one to create the scriptures of the Teaching — something like that. In any case, I don’t know how to put it more precisely. But this feeling, as soon as it surfaced, was crushed under the weight of responsibility and quickly faded.

My first attempts to write something down didn’t resemble foundational texts. It was something between clumsy journalism and bookish light philosophy. The result suffered the same fate as always: it was burnt. Especially since I gradually came to understand that simply writing things down was not enough. The material also had to be systematised, arranged in a specific order. And that added an extra layer of difficulty. First, I had never done anything like that before. Second, when I tried to systematise what I knew, I realised that I still didn’t know enough to undertake a serious and solid written exposition of the Teaching. That made me postpone the start of the work. I decided to wait for a while and, in the meantime, collect a knowledge base from what I was receiving from the Teacher. But I didn’t have the habit of writing down even brief summaries or making notes. I kept everything in my head.

More than two years after the beginning of the revelation, and six months after the founding of the Teaching, in September 1996, something began that I called “dictations”. One evening, Emere simply told me to write down his words. I took a pen and a sheet of notebook paper and started writing. This was quite different from the now-familiar process of mental communication with the Teacher. Now, it wasn’t enough to understand what he was telling me. Now it had to be formulated in concrete words and given written form. It required a special kind of focus to listen, formulate, and immediately write. It turned out to be very hard — both psychologically and energetically. At first, I could only write down a few logions per day, and every time I felt completely drained afterward. But on September 14, the first text of the future pandect was completed. It was the Evangelon — although at the time it had no such name, or any definite name at all. Shortly afterward came a second text from Emere, then a third, then texts from Sher-Ander. This last part greatly surprised me. It turned out that the revelation was not limited to communication with the God of Wisdom — humans could also participate. I was reminded of spiritism, which I had once studied in depth. But I quickly realised that what was happening to me was of an entirely different order.

After the first five texts, there was a long pause. It lasted several months — and we (my two disciples and I) began to think that this was the end, and that those five texts would constitute the scriptures of the Teaching. We compiled them into a thin handwritten booklet with a cardboard cover. Each of us had a photocopy. That was when we first tried to offer a book about the Teaching to publishers. It was to be titled “The Revival of the Teaching of Hermes” — just like the book that would be published many years later — and alongside other materials (including several articles), it was to include these texts. But the story of the attempts to publish the book is a topic in itself.

When Emere told me once again to write down his words, I was surprised and very glad. Although I was now more used to recording dictations and the work went more smoothly, the text turned out to be longer and more complex than the previous ones, and it too was recorded slowly, little by little. This was Eosfor. It was the only text that Emere named himself; and the name was in Ancient Greek (Sher-Ander named both of his texts himself, and they were in Russian). At that point, Hantur and I decided to come up with titles for the remaining three texts from Emere. Since he gave his text a Greek name, we decided to stick with that. Later, using Ancient Greek again, we developed a system that reflected the book’s structure — syntagma, mitevma, enon, logion. The definition “pandect” was coined, along with its name — Erma (Ancient Greek: “foundation”, “base”, “source”).

After Eosfor, came more dictations — from gods and from humans. The revelation turned out to be even broader. At first, I didn’t even imagine that I could receive anything not from Emere. However, as the dictations went on, it became clear that even together these texts did not present a unified and consistent exposition of the Teaching. Each one focused on its own topic — and the overall presentation of the Teaching came out fragmented. After much thought, I decided to try writing a few texts myself, to provide a connected and logical outline of the Teaching’s key points — though far from exhaustive. These texts were written and formed the third sintagma of the book Evor (Ancient Greek: “timely”).

When the book was finished, I already understood that it would not be the only one — because by then I had already written several epistles, which would eventually be compiled into another book. Hence, it was a pandect as a collection of books, not just the Evor. The epistles, the first of which was the Protophema, are still being written from time to time, and will continue to be written, adding to the book Epistole (Ancient Greek: “letters”, “epistles”). Thus, it continues to grow in volume, albeit slowly, and is still far from complete.

After the Evor was finished, I was in a state of genuine euphoria. Before my very eyes, a true miracle had taken place: the Teaching now had a book, its own scriptures. But the euphoria faded, and it became clear that even this book, along with the future book of epistles, wasn’t enough. A consistent and as detailed as possible exposition of the Teaching was still needed. So I began preparing to write it. Fortunately, I now had some experience, and had gained a lot more knowledge. Although I understood how monumental, complex, and heavy with responsibility the work ahead would be, there was still no way around it: it had to be written, and no one but me could do it.

But when I finally decided to begin, Emere stopped me, saying that it wasn’t time yet. I was disheartened and assumed that I wasn’t ready — and that this was clearer to the Teacher than to me. When would I be ready? Unknown. So I postponed the start of the work once again, indefinitely. A few days later, new dictations began. Only then did I understand why the Teacher had “paused” me before beginning the major work.

By then, I already had a good deal of experience receiving dictations — and, more importantly, I had developed the habit and skill for such work. I no longer got so tired or felt energetically drained after half an hour. So the work went faster. Also, as I noticed, dictations from humans were easier and less energetically taxing than those from gods. And the entire new book, which was later titled Doron (Ancient Greek: “gifts”), consisted of texts dictated by humans. These texts (like similar ones in the Evor) were arranged in chronological order — by the lifetimes of those who dictated them. Work on the second book took significantly less time than the first. Meanwhile, epistles continued to be written in parallel with the Doron.

Thus appeared the three books of the pandect. Since the completion of the Doron, I’ve tried several times to begin writing a detailed exposition of the Teaching, which I thought would be the fourth book of the pandect. However, I encountered a rather peculiar obstacle. Strictly speaking, it can’t be called an obstacle — but it still interferes. This is one of those cases where a plus becomes a minus under certain circumstances. The plus is that the revelation continues to this day, and the information is constantly being expanded. The minus is that any exposition I begin to write becomes outdated and insufficient before I even manage to write a substantial portion of it. I can’t do what many others might — write the book and then keep rewriting and expanding it. That’s why it still exists only in outline and a few fragments. One day I will conclude that there is already enough information for the most complete (though still not exhaustive) exposition possible, and that further additions are unlikely to change things significantly. Then the book will be written.

But it will not be the fourth — it will be the fifth book of the pandect. The fourth is currently being written. It will consist entirely of hagiographic texts — biographies of some of the prophets and Teachers of the Teaching who lived in the past. These are not dictations, but information that I independently read from what the Teaching calls the tablets — also known as the energy-informational field, astral imprints, etc. And after the fourth and fifth books, a sixth is planned, which will present the principles and rules of the Teaching in final form. Writing this book may take a very long time — and we can only hope that I don’t die before I manage to complete it.

Thus, it is assumed that the pandect will ultimately include six books. Although, in truth — that’s not guaranteed. After all, no one said there would never be more dictations. I thought there wouldn’t be any more after finishing the Evor. But then, unexpectedly, came the Doron. Since then, I no longer make any firm assumptions on this point. Who knows: maybe the dictations will resume again someday. Therefore, it’s currently impossible to say definitively how many books the completed pandect will consist of.

The Content

When the collection The Revival of the Teaching of Hermes was published, incorporating selected texts from the three books of the pandect, booksellers most often categorised its genre as “esotericism, philosophy”. Can this be contested? Perhaps, in the part where esotericism is mentioned. But this is not so much a mistake as a kind of paradox that has long since become a commonplace phenomenon. It lies in the fact that declassified esotericism — by definition — is no longer esotericism. It ceases to be such the moment it becomes public knowledge. It is clear that something else is implied by the term “esotericism” in the genre label; but to write “revelation of previously hidden knowledge” would be far too long. As for “philosophy”, nowadays virtually anything can be placed under this label. In this case, however, there’s little room for dispute, as the definition is quite apt. Although, the best designation of the book’s genre would be “spiritual literature”. Yet the term “spiritual” is usually interpreted as “religious” — most often referring to a specific religion — so it has almost become monopolised.

Nevertheless, the pandect should indeed be viewed as spiritual literature. Here, this definition encompasses a whole range of concepts — such as knowledge, philosophy, morality. One could say these are all facets of the same thing. At times, they are difficult — nearly impossible — to distinguish from one another; at other times, the characteristics of one or the other are quite clearly visible.

It is entirely reasonable to speak of different genres within the pandect itself. Although they too have a tendency to “intergrow” and merge with each other — that is, the genre divisions in some cases are quite conditional. So, into which genres can its texts be divided? First and foremost, these are knowledge-based philosophical texts. Then — teachings. Then — hagiographic-historical texts. Then — speeches and addresses. And finally — parables. This applies to the books Evor and Doron. The third book, Epistolé, consists entirely of epistles, which in essence can be classified as speeches or addresses — although they also carry a knowledge-based philosophical and didactic character.

Of course, it is impossible within the scope of a single short article to provide a detailed account of the pandect’s content and highlight the intriguing features of its various texts. But a brief overview can and should be given.

Which texts do I classify as knowledge-based philosophical? Primarily those that describe the structure of the world, the principles and laws governing it, or explore particular aspects thereof, or present more specific questions. For example, my mitevmas Onta and Temely, where the general picture of the world order is outlined — covering Being, the Great Principles, the Creator, the main principles of his inner evolution, the Universe, the gods, and the Dragon. Among my mitevmas, one can also include Marterya, which discusses Truth and the Teaching, and Melont, which concerns the future of humanity and what my further path in the world of energy will be. This genre also includes most of the mitevmas dictated by the gods (excluding Eubouleus, Katekon, and Paraklesis). Thus, Evangelon is dedicated, so to speak, to the philosophy of revelation as such. Anabasis recounts the battle between humans and the Dragon, and its eventual outcome. Eosfor is addressed directly to me and might seem to fall under the genre of addresses. But in this case, that is not the defining characteristic. The text addresses many subjects: the path, reincarnations, good and evil, gods, the Dragon, struggle, knowledge, unity, Truth, power, humanity, and so on. It contains much philosophy and guidance directed at me, but also at all people. All these mitevmas were dictated by Emere. Apeiron is the mitevma of the God of Unity, and it discusses unity and the boundless. Promachos is the mitevma of the God of Righteous Struggle, where he (appearing here in a female form) speaks of his essence and work. Kalon is the mitevma of the God of Beauty and is devoted to the beautiful in its universal sense. Parégorema is the mitevma of the God of Healing, and it is about the essence of this god. All these texts belong to the book Evor.

From the Doron, two texts can clearly be assigned to this genre. The first is Four Leaves. In its four enons, it discusses Dayantum (the God of the Faithful — that is, the elemental-egregor of the Teaching), false gods, the ioiorg (beings from the energy world created through sorcery or curses and who persecute people), and the ukinn (larvae). The second text is Dialogue. It has a plot and presents a conversation between a Teacher and a disciple about Being and the human place within it. This is a very philosophical text, structured as a series of questions and answers.

The genre of teachings includes the mitevma of Emere Eubouleus, which partly consists of questions and answers (“If you are asked…”) and partly of aphorisms (“Tell him…”). Then — Five Pearls by Sher-Ander: a mitevma comprising five enons that can be called brief philosophical-educational sketches. Next is the mitevma The Teacher by Ranakesh. The title fully reflects the content: it describes what the Teacher is to the disciple and how the disciple should relate to him. Among my own mitevmas, Deon belongs here. This extensive text is devoted to the moral-ethical dimension of the Teaching; it describes the principles and norms that a person should follow in life. All four of these mitevmas are found in the Evor. The Doron, in turn, offers the remarkable text Advices to a Son. This could be called a sort of moral code of a person from the Teaching: it lists twelve virtues (honesty, loyalty, prudence, generosity, etc.) that a person should develop within themselves and explains their rationale. The original author of this mitevma, Airom-Bar, once wrote these teachings for his son, and has now dictated them for everyone. The next mitevma, Consolation, is also his. Like the previous one, it is an address to his son and concerns grief over human sorrows and suffering. In the Doron we also find the unusual mitevma The Precious Belt. Its peculiarity lies in the fact that it consists of two hundred tiny enons — each two to five logions long. They all begin with “My Teacher said…” and each contains a small yet vivid and profound piece of advice — sometimes sorrowful, sometimes roughly ironic.

Hagiographic-historical texts are those that describe someone’s life or a specific episode thereof, or provide information from the history of the Teaching. Although the first text in this list, The Summit, could also be classified as an address, since it is structured as a message to me. However, half of it recounts a major episode from the history of the Teaching, referred to in the text as “the great calamity” — a planetary-scale disaster. Next comes the mitevma Particle, in which a man named Vez recounts his life. And not only his life: in the final three enons, he describes his afterlife. This is the only such instance in the pandect. Then — Twenty Days, in which a woman named Nyneveh (the only text dictated by a woman) tells of her encounter with the Teacher and the twenty days she spent with him that changed her life completely. Then — The Great God. Unlike other texts set in deep antiquity, the events of this mitevma take place around the year 1000 AD. Its sense-author is the only person to have made dictations without ever having belonged to the Teaching during his lifetime. The final hagiographic-historical text in the Evor is my mitevma Sebast, in which I very briefly, in the most general terms, describe two of my lives — past and present.

The first hagiographic-historical text of the book Doron is The Vision of Tantaiddan, where he tells of one episode from his life, when, with the help of the Teacher, he saw a possible future. His vision turned out to be prophetic: what he saw, which at the time was only a possibility, is being realised in our days. Next comes A Word about Vlay, in which a man named Tova tells of the life of his Teacher. Tova also dictated two more texts in which he retells parables he heard from Vlay — but these belong to a different genre. The next two hagiographic-historical texts — The Circle and its continuation The Second Word — are much more historical than hagiographic, and should be considered together. They set out the history of one of the revelations — from the very moment of receiving the revelation to the death of the last followers of the Teaching, with the timeline spanning several centuries. This is also an unprecedented case for the pandect. Then comes The Fathers. Here, again, only one episode is described. The Teacher Ilan is taken captive by conquerors and sent to the court of their ruler, called the Master in the text. At first, the Master is hostile to Ilan, but later becomes his disciple. The text recounts their conversations and so can also be considered a teaching. Next is The Narrative, a short mitevma, in which the author of the meanings briefly tells of his life. Then The Walker, one of the most interesting hagiographic texts, containing a number of vivid and illustrative examples of the behaviour of a person from the Teaching — a disciple who became a Teacher. The mitevma Tales of Darethat reads quite differently. Darethat is without doubt the most eccentric of the Teachers described in the pandect, and his actions sometimes appear rather strange. The final text of this genre is Life. In it, a man named Leuma tells of himself. In childhood, he was a novice candidate for the priesthood and suffered cruel tortures, later met the Teacher and travelled with him, and after the Teacher’s death gained disciples of his own.

I would note one interesting detail: in texts of this genre that are autobiographical in nature, the authors of the meanings often describe their own death — which appears quite unusual.

Among the speeches-addresses I would first of all include Katekon. This is a truly unique text. In it, the one addressing people is none other than the Dragon (here under the name Avarna) — that is, the one who in various religions is considered the lord of evil. In his address, he speaks of his essence and the meaning of what he does, and also of what he truly wants from people. Paraklesis is an address to people from the elemental of humanity. In the mitevma The Path, Sher-Ander repeats his address to me, spoken in those times when I was still the Indian Ananda and he was my Teacher, speaking to me from the world of energy. Ode is my short speech about what is happening, about the Teaching and the good. The Mortal Song is the words of Bairtam, the author of the meanings in the mitevma The Fathers, once written by him before death. Hymn is a speech by a Teacher named Ma’yé, addressed to followers of the Teaching. And finally, The Song of Rohami — a very unusual mitevma, even for the pandect. This large text was indeed a song in the original — that is, a poem that was sung. It is without a doubt the most emotional text of the pandect. It contains many addresses to people, calls and teachings, parables, fragments of legends and beliefs, observations and instructive events from life. By its tone and content, it stands somewhat apart from other texts of the pandect.

Above, I spoke of the texts that make up the first two books of the pandect. The third book, as already mentioned, consists of my speeches-addresses. Some are addressed to my disciples — but their content is intended not only for disciples. Other messages are addressed directly to all people. The messages touch on such important topics as Truth, power, pride, spiritual fornication, fanaticism, morality, doom, following the Teaching, the significance of the pandect for the follower, and others. The book Epistolé is not yet complete and is from time to time supplemented with new messages.

To the genre of parables, so to speak, in its purest form, only three texts can be attributed. All of them are included in the book Doron. First and foremost are the two already mentioned mitevmas of Tova — The Hand and The Legend of Atama-Ulla. The first is a small collection of five parables on different themes (including on the essence of the Dragon); the second is a legend about the magical maiden Atama-Ulla, symbolising the unity of man and Nature. The third parable, The Stone, which closes the book Evor, conveys to us a conversation between a man and the stone he tripped over. As a result of this conversation, it turns out the stone is in some ways wiser than the man, and one can learn from it a proper view of the world and one’s place within it.

Here I shall end my overview. It has turned out dry and largely referential — but it could not be otherwise, given the format of a short article. I hope it may serve as a kind of brief guide to the pandect both for those who are only beginning to familiarise themselves with it and for those who simply wish to navigate it better.

The Attitude

The pandect is the most important written source of the Teaching, but it does not have the status of “holy scripture”. This is primarily because, in the Teaching — which is not a religion — the concept of “holy” is not used to denote any kind of sacred status or property. Although the pandect is based on what may be described as material received from a higher source, and although it possesses qualities that many would call miraculous (as will be discussed later), none of this has any connection to the supernatural. However, a book does not have to be considered sacred in order to be respected. For followers of the Teaching, the pandect is a source of genuine knowledge about the world and the human being. We simply call it “the pandect”, and that says it all. That said, there are other options: when it is necessary or desirable to particularly emphasise the importance of the pandect as a source of knowledge, or its status as the foundational book of the Teaching, it is referred to as the True Writings, or simply the Writings.

Reading the pandect is desirable for every follower, which is quite natural. For one who walks the path, it is important to know the way. And there are two principal sources of knowledge here: communication with the Teacher and reading the pandect. This can be compared to studying at school, university, or any other educational institution. There are textbooks through which the subject is studied, and there is a teacher who helps the students work with those books, while also explaining and expanding on the material, and supplementing it orally. In principle, it is possible to study a subject solely through dialogue with a teacher. But teachers vary — and a good textbook that outlines the fundamentals of a subject can be universal; even teachers themselves once learnt from it. Even if the teacher is very good, turning to the textbook is essential; it makes the study deeper and more comprehensive. The pandect is such a textbook for the Teaching. In it, one can find the Teaching’s views on the structure of the world and the place of the human being in it; philosophical explorations of various questions; principles, rules, clarifications, instructions, recommendations; and examples of how the Teaching is followed in the lives of both Teachers and ordinary followers. The significance of the pandect as a textbook cannot be overstated. Moreover, if a disciple genuinely wants to understand the Teaching, they will not limit themselves to oral lessons and will read the pandect willingly. Can one study the Teaching using only the pandect? To a certain extent. Such study will not be fully sufficient or clear without the Teacher’s commentary, their clarification of difficult passages, their refinements and additions, and sometimes even their restatement of the same content in different words, which is often necessary for deeper understanding. When studying the Teaching, one should not limit oneself to just reading the pandect or only speaking with the Teacher; both should be combined. Except, of course, in those cases where one or the other is unavailable. Reading the pandect is not an obligation as such, but it is a very important and necessary part of being a disciple — as well as an indicator of the desire to learn. It’s simple: if you genuinely seek knowledge, you will naturally, without being prompted or pressured, open the book. Ideally, reading the pandect should be regular and provide the reader with ongoing intellectual and spiritual nourishment.

The texts in the pandect are not esoteric; they do not conceal their meaning in a way that prevents the uninitiated from understanding. However, they are sometimes difficult — particularly for someone just beginning to study the Teaching. At the same time, they contain much more than it might first appear. It is important for a disciple to read the pandect in its entirety at least once. But when rereading it, much is revealed that was missed or not understood the first time. By that point, a more complete picture will have formed in the mind, understanding of the Teaching will have deepened, and what is read will now be seen from a slightly different angle. New perspectives become available, from which new details, elements, and nuances emerge, significantly enriching comprehension. The first reading may be more engaging, but the second is more thorough and thoughtful. And this is not the limit. No matter how many times the pandect is reread, something new can always be discovered that helps one better understand the Teaching. This is a property of any good spiritual writing: it can be studied deeply and still remain a source of continual revelation. This is certainly true of the pandect of Erma.

What does it mean to “study” it? This is not the same as simply reading it. It means working through the material thoroughly, deepening one’s understanding, paying attention to details and nuances, analysing, learning to work with information, to interpret it correctly and to draw valid conclusions. Naturally, not every follower is obliged to be a deep scholar of the pandect. The level of depth is up to the individual. Again, this is no different from how other spiritual writings from various religions and teachings are approached: a follower should be familiar with them and understand their meaning, but does not have to be an expert. One studies them as much as one wishes and is able.

A good knowledge of the pandect helps one to navigate it, to find the necessary information when needed for reference or to explain something to someone else. It is also very useful for quoting or simply for pointing someone to the right passage. In fact, quotations are a topic in themselves. The pandect contains many aphoristic statements on all sorts of topics. Once it is completed, a good anthology of these sayings can be compiled (this work is already underway). They can be used as epigraphs or mottos, for example. My personal motto is also taken from the pandect: “Tomorrow will be seen by the one who walks to the night.” (The Five Pearls I, 10). Quotations and aphorisms can also be used decoratively — when a wise saying, besides its meaning, also brings aesthetic pleasure through artistic presentation, adorning some object. Many uses can be found for them, provided this is done with benefit and respect. Aphorisms from the pandect are already becoming an important element of the culture of the Teaching — particularly significant at this early stage of its development.

Thus, for a follower of the Teaching, the pandect is of immense importance as a source of knowledge. For the Teaching as a whole, it is also important as a model — a kind of standard of Truth. It is written by a prophet during a period when the primary source of the Teaching — Emere, the God of Wisdom — is participating in the work. This guarantees the pandect is free from error. In future, it will serve to verify whether various theories, hypotheses, and concepts correspond to the Truth. It will also be a test of authentic affiliation to the Teaching for those who seek to instruct others. If someone, for example, presents themselves as a Teacher but their words contradict the pandect, then they are not a true Teacher and should not be trusted. The pandect is the foundation, the base, the support (erma) of the Teaching. Teachers will come and go, and I myself, as the author of the pandect, will one day die — but the pandect will remain. For hundreds and thousands of years, it will serve as the foundation of the Teaching, its standard, the measure by which all things will be evaluated for their alignment with the Teaching. It is hard to overstate how great its significance is.

Let us now touch on how a follower should treat the pandect. At its core, it is just a book (or rather, several books — but let’s not quibble). However, it is no ordinary book. It is Writings — not sacred, but highly important. And it should be treated with respect, with due reverence. After all, the pandect is part of the Teaching; it could even be said to be Truth itself embodied in book form. And Truth deserves to be treated with honour and care. How one handles the pandect may reflect how seriously and responsibly one relates to the Teaching itself.

What specific rules exist in this regard? In principle, they are simple. No special actions, no ceremonies, no displays of veneration are required. One should treat it simply as a book that one respects, values, and takes care of. Above all, it should be kept clean, not dirtied or damaged, and its cover and pages should be preserved to avoid tearing. One should not scribble on the edges, colour or deface it. Page corners should not be folded; bookmarks exist for finding one’s place. Nothing should be underlined or written in the margins — unless absolutely necessary. The pandect should not be grabbed carelessly, and certainly not tossed aside. It should be picked up and put down with care and respect. It should not lie around haphazardly or be used as a support or base for other objects. One should not lean on it with elbows or similar. Ideally, nothing should be placed on top of it — unless it is part of a neat stack of books. In short, as already stated, a certain reverence should be observed. But really, what is so unusual in these rules? They apply to any book — if the reader is respectful and values it.

This applies to physical books. But the same rules are relevant when the pandect or a part of it is printed out or photocopied — even a single page or quotation. When it comes to digital media, however, due to their nature, these guidelines are much less applicable.

There is another point related to the difference between physical and digital media — namely, the special properties mentioned at the start. The pandect possesses a particular energy — beneficial and strong. This has not yet been fully studied, and its full potential and scope are not yet known, but it has already been shown to have protective and, to some extent, healing effects. This means that a book containing the texts of the pandect — or even a single printed page, or just one logion written out somewhere — can act as a protective amulet, shielding against the evil eye, hexes, various energetic attacks and parasites. In some cases, such an object may also offer healing support. There is nothing supernatural or miraculous about this, as there are no such things as the supernatural or miracles. These are forces of Nature. The pandect carries within it Truth and goodness, and thus its energy reflects that. However, when it comes to digital formats, this energy does not manifest — or at least, not so far as has been observed. Simply put, a printed page can serve a protective and healing function, but a DVD or a tablet does not. Why this is the case remains to be determined.

The pandect is the principal source of the Teaching, one of its foundations, its standard and measure of Truth. Its authority as a source surpasses that of any Teacher; only the authority of a prophet is comparable. But even a prophet has no right to alter the pandect or to teach anything that contradicts it. Furthermore, the pandect is part of the culture of the Teaching — more than that, it is one of the forces shaping that culture. For a follower, the pandect is a book of essential knowledge, the main textbook of the Teaching, a treasure trove from which one can draw endless riches. In addition, it has beneficial energetic properties. Every follower of the Teaching should understand all this and treat the pandect accordingly — with respect, care, and appreciation. And how could it be otherwise, when what lies in your hands is a fragment of the Teaching itself — its very soul, one might say? How could it be otherwise, when you are touching the word of Truth made manifest?

Examples for Life

Apart from texts that set out the Teaching, explain its worldview, moral norms, and so on, the pandect also contains texts that may be defined as “hagiographic”. These make up a significant part of it. What are “hagiographic texts”? These are texts that describe the life of a follower of the Teaching — either in the form of a kind of autobiography, or written by someone else. In some cases, the entire life is described (e.g. The Particle, The Word about Vlay, The Walker, The Life), in others — a particular episode (The Twenty Days, The Fathers), or a series of incidents (Tales of Darethat). Sometimes, a hagiographic text turns into a historical chronicle, telling the story of an entire period in the history of the Teaching (The Circle, The Second Word). At times, hagiographic elements or teachings based on specific life examples are generously scattered throughout texts that are not hagiographic in the strict sense (The Song of Rohami, The Precious Belt).

It is one thing simply to explain which actions are right and which are wrong, which align with the Teaching and which do not, and quite another to provide practical examples of how people act, guided by the Teaching, its system of values, or even just the wish to draw closer to it. This is precisely what we find in the hagiographic texts of the pandect.

And whenever we speak of this, the question immediately arises: is it still possible to live that way today, is it possible under modern conditions to follow the Teaching in the way the disciples of old once did? All this happened a long time ago, thousands or tens of thousands of years back. Times have changed — and people too. Can the descriptions of ancient events serve as examples of proper conduct for people today? Well, as for people — it is unlikely they have changed. Their vices, virtues, desires, character traits, fears, sufferings, pleasures, motivations, and aspirations remain the same. These things do not change — they only manifest in different circumstances, in ever-new (relatively speaking) settings. For millennia, people have wandered through the same labyrinths, walked the same closed loops, faced the same problems, and entered into the same conflicts. As for the times — yes, our own age is quite different from what is described in the texts of the pandect. And we may even say that the differences are in many ways positive. For instance, with regard to freedom of belief. In the past, this was much more difficult. In the pandect, and beyond it, we find many examples of how dangerous it once was to hold views that differed from those of the majority. Those who departed from the accepted norm were often not merely condemned, but persecuted, exiled, and killed. Today, things are easier in this regard. Yes, intolerance still exists in our time, and persecution of dissent is still found in places. But it is nothing compared to what once was. So, compared with the times and societies described in the pandect, today’s followers of the Teaching have a simpler task in keeping to their path. Simpler — if only because it is, at the very least, safer. And in that sense, the examples from the pandect have even greater significance. Because in many cases, they say to the modern person not simply: “He managed it — so you can too”, but: “He managed it even though it was much harder and more dangerous for him than it is for you — so you’ll simply be ashamed if you cannot.”

What is it, exactly, that one must manage? First and foremost — to stay on one’s path when circumstances press down, when not even one’s actions, but merely holding different beliefs, puts one’s safety and life at risk. And all the more so if one acts against what is widely accepted and reinforced by religion and custom. Pressure may come from society as a whole (for example, The Walker — the episode where the villagers’ hostility to Semmair and his disciples reaches such a degree that they begin cursing them; or A Word about Vlay — the episode in the village where Vlay is opposed by the elder’s kin and a sorcerer; or the fate of Rohami — not described in the pandect, but known to us nonetheless). It may come from family (again, The Walker — the episode with the pit, or the episode where Ozted wanted to marry a girl whose family opposed it; or The Circle — the episode with Tukar’s younger son; or The Second Word — the episode with the youth who wished to learn). It may come from those in power (again, The Walker — the episode with the viriyeg; or The Fathers, second and third enons; or The Circle — the episodes involving Tukar’s execution, the torture of the Masters, the siege of the city of the Circle, and so on). All these are vivid examples showing that a person from the Teaching must remain such in any circumstances — even when life and death are at stake.

Another important area where examples matter greatly is the attitude towards the Teacher — his words and actions. There is a mitevma in the pandect dedicated specifically to this, aptly titled The Teacher. The hagiographic texts contain many examples of how this manifests in practice. There’s little point in listing isolated episodes — what one must look at are the entire stories of relationships: Vez and the Knower (The Particle), the Ruler and Ilan (The Fathers), Leuma and Kmanka (The Life), Nyneveh and the Teacher (The Twenty Days), Vlay and Evnar (A Word about Vlay), Semmair and Eszovomo, and then Semmair and his disciples (The Walker), the people of the Circle and their attitude to the Masters (The Circle). These same themes are also reflected in the teachings found in these texts, as well as, for example, in The Precious Belt or the twenty-third enon of Tales of Darethat.

Naturally, many examples also relate to self-development — to how a person changes as they advance spiritually. Here again, one should study the stories of the people told about in the texts. Some of them are striking even without considering all the details — for example, Vlay’s story, who before meeting Evnar was a thief and robber; or Nyneveh, who achieved a major spiritual breakthrough in just twenty days; or the Ruler, who changed through several conversations with Ilan. We read of disciples who themselves become Teachers (e.g. Vlay, Vez, Leuma, Semmair). And also of how, in the course of their spiritual development, many acquire unusual abilities — for instance, by the end of his life, Semmair could see without eyes; Nyneveh’s Teacher could heal, speak with animals, and light fires with a breath; Vlay too could heal, resist sorcery and demons; and what the Masters of the Circle and the Knower who taught Vez were capable of — that is a subject in itself. Still, it must be said: neither the vain desire to become a Teacher, nor the idle wish to gain “supernatural powers” should ever be motivations for following the Teaching. Both can be results — but not as goals reached, only as something additional. In the process, qualities may form that enable one to bear the great responsibility of being a Teacher. As for the abilities — they are not so important, and may be considered as a kind of bonus, the absence of which in no way indicates a person’s lack of spiritual depth.

The hagiographic texts also contain examples of self-sacrificial actions — natural for people from the Teaching, who think more of others and strive to fulfil their duty, rather than pursuing their own comfort and safety. Such examples include: Omeshdan, who sacrificed himself to save prisoners destined for sacrifice (The Particle); Kmanka, who gave all his life force to his dying son (The Life); the Ruler, who remained behind to die but entrusted his small son to Ilan (The Fathers); the Masters, who gave their lives to redeem the lives of the people of the Circle (The Circle); Tomeynon Tere Minkeso, who came to die alongside the Masters (also The Circle); the Master who, having given his word, returned to the prince to be executed (The Second Word); and Rohami, who knew full well what the likely result of his song would be (again, this is known from outside the pandect). All of these are truly priceless examples for all followers of the Teaching, for all time.

Yet the hagiographic texts also contain examples of the opposite — of how a person from the Teaching ought not to behave. For instance: the disciple of Semmair who became proud, and another who committed theft (The Walker); the two disciples of the Teacher who taught Darethat, and later, the two disciples of Darethat himself (Tales of Darethat); Enarnan, who offered Vez his six daughters (The Particle); Leuma, who wanted to marry without love (The Life). These too are examples with much to teach.

Of course, in a short article it is impossible to list all the examples and instructive episodes to be found in the hagiographic texts of the pandect — and all the more so to retell them, even briefly. This was merely a brief overview of some of them. A detailed study of the hagiographic texts as a collection of examples for current and future followers of the Teaching could easily form a substantial work in itself. And when the fourth book of the pandect appears — composed entirely of hagiographic texts — there will be much more material for such a work. Here, I simply wished to outline, in broad strokes, what the pandect is as a guide for life. And that is without even considering the many non-hagiographic teaching texts.

Earlier, I said “for current and future followers of the Teaching”. One might ask: is all this truly relevant for today’s world and today’s people — and even more so, for those to come? Yes, it is relevant — 100%. Just as before — though it is more correct to say “as always” — people need to understand the structure of the world and their place within it; they need to understand what it means to “fulfil their purpose” and “live rightly”. They face the same problems as before, struggle with the same vices and flaws, cultivate the same virtues and strengths. This has gone on for many thousands of years. Humanity still has not made a qualitative leap in its spiritual and moral development. It is as though trying to find a path through a swamp to solid ground — but so far, without success. And so, what was once relevant for it, remains relevant today. And will remain relevant in future. Even when that long-awaited leap occurs. Because even then, humanity will still have a long and difficult road ahead. And eternal values are called eternal for precisely that reason — because they are always needed.

That is why what Semmair, Ilan, or Nyneveh did long ago still matters greatly to us today. And will matter to those who come after us.