When I was fifteen, I walked away from the Catholic Church.
There was no drama, no spiritual backlash, no eerie sense of guilt or dread. I simply left. I had questions, and I didn’t know the answers. Like so many teenagers raised in religion, I drifted toward freedom, or what I thought was freedom. But I never stopped believing in Jesus Christ. I always knew He was real.
Still, for eight years, I lived outside the Church. No demons haunted me. No spiritual “agents” came after me. No dark force tried to pull me back or punish me. I was free to explore.
Then, at twenty-three, I was introduced to Tibetan Buddhism by a friend. Spiritual curiosity quickly became commitment. The teachings were deep, the rituals profound, and the promises huge. My belief in Jesus wasn’t challenged outright; instead, the gurus cleverly and swiftly recast Him as a “bodhisattva,” one of many enlightened beings in a cosmic buffet of spiritual options. I was told He was admirable, but not unique. Just another wise, and probably enlightened teacher.
I didn’t realize then how that subtle shift had planted the seeds of spiritual confusion. Over time, the practices became more demanding and more secretive. Eventually questions weren’t welcomed. When I began to notice darker occult elements woven into the heart of the practice, I had troubling doubts. The tantric path spoke of vajra hell, an eternal punishment for those who questioned or broke samaya (spiritual vows to the guru). And not just for betrayal or disobedience, but even for internal doubts.
And when I had them, everything changed.
I was tossed out. Not just socially or emotionally, but spiritually. I was attacked, not just by my former gurus, but by unseen forces. It was violent and supernatural. The very same tradition that had claimed to offer peace and enlightenment unleashed something very dark the moment I started to turn away from the guru.
This wasn’t like walking away from the Catholic Church. It was completely different. I experienced a spiritual assault of such magnitude that no one could believe me. And it begged the question: What kind of spiritual path tortures you for eternity for having doubts?
A demonic path does.The historical Buddha taught to question everything, but tantra did not allow it.
Tibetan Buddhism may parade as a tradition of compassion and peace, but my experience showed otherwise. If it were truly of the Light, it wouldn’t need to threaten vajra hell or unleash invisible tormentors on those who simply ask blunt and honest questions. It wouldn’t need to cloak the guru in infallibility while turning a blind eye to his abuse. And it certainly wouldn’t need to demonically retaliate against a soul simply for having doubts and trauma. The difference between the two paths couldn’t be clearer. When I left the Church, there was silence. When I left Tibetan Buddhism, there was war.
In Tantric Tibetan Buddhism, forgiveness is not traditionally emphasized as it is in Christianity. Tibetan Buddhism places greater emphasis on karma, the universal law of cause and effect. According to this view, actions inherently produce outcomes, and there is little scope for simply “forgiving” or releasing someone from the karmic consequences of their deeds. Instead, purification practices are prescribed to cleanse one’s negative karma. If they are not done effectively, retribution is a given.
Ken McLeod, a prominent Western teacher and translator of Tibetan Buddhism, highlights this point clearly in an article titled, “Forgiveness is not Buddhist.” He writes, “In Tibetan Buddhism, forgiveness isn’t really addressed in the same way as it is in Christianity. Instead, there’s an emphasis on purification and insight into the nature of mind and action.” [1]
Practitioners engage in rituals and meditation practices, such as Vajrasattva purification practices, visualizing negative karma being cleansed. However, these rituals differ fundamentally from the Christian idea of interpersonal forgiveness. They are personal acts of purification rather than relational acts of forgiving or seeking forgiveness from another person or deity.
Although the emphasis in Tibetan Buddhism is allegedly on compassion (karuna), a larger concept of retribution is often at work behind the scenes. Compassion in Buddhism is the profound desire to alleviate suffering universally, extending even to one’s perceived enemies. Tantra, paradoxically, emphasizes karmic retribution that allows the guru to “payback” perceived slights and disrespect secretly using black magic techniques or “rituals of subjugation.”
Personal Account: The Dark Side of the Teachings
My own experience underscores the stark absence of forgiveness in Tantric Tibetan Buddhism. During a tantric ritual of annihilation, I desperately begged forgiveness from the guru for any perceived wrongdoing, hoping for mercy or compassion. I honestly did not know what I was being punished for. The guru, however, demonstrated not even the slightest bit of forgiveness or mercy. This painful event highlighted for me the profound differences between the compassionate forgiveness taught by Jesus Christ and the severe, impersonal karmic logic of Tantric Tibetan Buddhism.
Forgiveness in Christianity
In Christianity, forgiveness occupies a central and explicit place. It involves both human interpersonal forgiveness and divine forgiveness through the mercy and grace of God. Christianity explicitly encourages believers to forgive one another as God has forgiven them through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.
Forgiveness in Christianity is relational, deeply rooted in repentance, reconciliation, and restoration of relationships with God and with others. It implies a personal release from the debt of sin through God’s grace, rather than the impersonal balancing of karmic scales.
Jesus teaches explicitly on forgiveness, such as in the Lord’s Prayer (“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us”), emphasizing the interconnectedness of receiving and giving forgiveness. Forgiveness is portrayed not merely as a spiritual virtue but as a fundamental practice essential to spiritual health and salvation itself.
Western Practitioners and Misplaced Assumptions
Many Western practitioners of Tibetan Buddhism unconsciously overlay their Judeo-Christian cultural and moral values onto the tantric Buddhist teachings, often at their own detriment. They assume the presence of forgiveness and personal mercy that simply do not exist in the traditional tantric framework. This mistaken belief can lead practitioners to misunderstand or misinterpret the intentions and actions of teachers, making them vulnerable to exploitation and emotional and physical harm. Ultimately, recognizing these fundamental differences can lead to safety, and protection from mistaken spiritual paths. For more about the guru’s ability to engage in karmic retribution see here,here, and here.
It is not far fetched to assert that it is the lama himself bringing about the karmic retribution on the student through black magic rituals using effigies and curses.
The Tibetan Buddhist tradition, especially its Vajrayana (tantric) aspect, contains teachings on wrathful rituals and even sorcery-like practices. These practices have occasionally been used (or misused) by gurus to punish or frighten disciples who violate guru devotion or samaya (sacred vows). Both classical texts and modern accounts document such phenomena:
Scriptural Warnings of Dire Consequences: Tantric scriptures and commentaries explicitly warn of terrible karmic punishment if a disciple betrays or criticizes their guru. For example, the Kalachakra Tantra says that even a moment of anger toward one’s guru destroys vast amounts of merit and causes rebirth in hell for eons (The Disadvantages of Incorrect Devotion to a Guru | Lama Yeshe Wisdom Archive).
Another text states that simply failing to properly honor a guru after receiving teachings can result in “rebirth for one hundred lifetimes as a dog” and then rebirth as a low-caste person or even a scorpion lamayeshe.com. In short, breaking samaya is portrayed as spiritually catastrophic, leading to suffering in this life and the next. These warnings, while couched as impersonal karmic law, create a climate in which gurus are held almost above criticism.
Oath-Breakers and Protector Deities: Tantric cosmology includes Dharmapāla (Dharma protectors) bound by oath to protect Buddhist teachings and teachers. Those who break their sacred vows or harm their guru are sometimes called “samaya-breakers” or oath-breakers. Historical texts indicate that oath-breakers were targeted by wrathful rituals. A striking example comes from a 13th-century Tibetan master at Kublai Khan’s court, Ga Anyen Dampa. In a decree mixing politics and magic, Dampa forbadeharming his followers through curses or demons, but warned that if anyone disobeyed him, he would “unleash the fierce punishment of the Dharma Protectors” so that their heads would split into a hundred pieces (War Magic: Tibetan Sorcery | Rubin Museum). In other words, the guru swore to call upon wrathful deities to brutally destroy anyone who violated his command. Such records (in this case preserved as a protective charm) show that invoking black magic and protective deities as punishment for disobedience was not unheard of.
Effigies and “Black Magic” in Tantric Practice: Tibetan lamas developed elaborate ritual technologies to deal with enemies or detractors. Human effigies and dough figures (torma) are traditional ritual implements used to represent a target in magical rites. According to scholars, a “wide array of images, such as human effigies…or ritual dough-offering sculptures, were employed to…subdue or destroy one’s enemies” (War Magic: Tibetan Sorcery | Rubin Museum). In wrathful rites (such as the gTor dabs or torma-throwing ritual), the lama empowers an effigy with mantras and offers it to wrathful spirits or deities, directing the ensuing harm toward the intended victim. War Magic was even used at state levels, for instance, 12th-century Lama Zhang, a militant yogi, sent cursed tormas and spells against his foes and had protector goddesses like Shri Devi “assist” in battle (War Magic: Tibetan Sorcery | Rubin Museum). These historical uses of violent sorcery, while aimed at external enemies, set a background against which a guru might also target an “enemy” disciple who they feel has betrayed them.
Historical Case – The “Cursed Boots” Plot: In 1900, an incident in Lhasa suggests the reality of such magical punishments. The 13th Dalai Lama survived an assassination attempt involving black magic: a certain gifted pair of boots, which caused illness to the wearer, upon close inspection had “a harmful mantra hidden in the sole.” (Treasury of Lives: The Case of the Dalai Lama’s Cursed Boots – Tricycle: The Buddhist Review) The inquiry revealed that the boots were prepared as a curse by a lama famous for sorcery, acting on behalf of a former regent. That sorcerer (Lama Nyaktrul) confessed he was recruited to enchant the boots “as a means to sap the vitality of the Dalai Lama and cause his eventual death” (Treasury of Lives: The Case of the Dalai Lama’s Cursed Boots – Tricycle: The Buddhist Review). The plotters, including the ex-regent, were arrested, confirming this was not mere superstition but a documented attempt to use ritual magic to punish or eliminate a high lama. While this is a political case, it shows that Tibetan lamas did employ curses (mantras on effigies or objects) to secretly harm human targets. It’s a short step to imagine a vindictive guru doing similar things to a personal disciple who is seen as a traitor.
Even when literal demons aren’t invoked, the threat of supernatural harm is a powerful tool. Some Vajrayana insiders have noted that gurus sometimes wield samaya as a weapon of fear, warning that if a student breaks their devotion, it will hinder the guru’s life or send the student to Vajra Hell. This can psychologically terrorize students into silence and obedience.
Samaya and Guru Devotion as a Control Mechanism: The reverence for gurus in Tibetan Buddhism, while spiritually meaningful in that system, can be abused. Devoted students are taught to see the guru as embodying all Buddhas (The Disadvantages of Incorrect Devotion to a Guru | Lama Yeshe Wisdom Archive), and therefore criticizing the guru is equivalent to criticizing the Buddha himself. This makes any challenge tantamount to sacrilege. Teachers who demand absolute loyalty may invoke wrathful consequences to enforce it. In the lore, breaking samaya not only brings karmic punishment but may incite the guru’s protector spirits to take revenge. For instance, many guardian deities are oath-bound to “strike down those who break their vows” to the guru or teachings. A protector like Dorje Shugden, controversially, is believed by his devotees to punish monks who “betray” their lineage, an idea which has led to real-world fear and schisms ( Go On, Break Your Samaya | Tsem Rinpoche). Thus, within the context of guru devotion, the line between religious oath and curse can blur: a disciple who disobeys is told they invite not only bad karma but possibly violent divine retribution.
To go one step further, it is not far fetched to assert that it is the lama himself bringing about the karmic retribution on the student through black magic rituals using effigies and curses. These practices are particularly potent because the disciple would have opened themselves up to being possessed by the guru’s yidams and protectors through the empowerments and teachings they received from the guru. In addition, the guru is able to enter the mind and body of the disciple magically. See Tantric Astral Projection, the Guru’s Power to Liberate or Condemn. So basically, the potential enemy is already camped within the body/mind/spirit of the victim, waiting to strike should there be any samaya breakage. Although the tantric methods contain practices to repair broken samaya, the student/victim is not always aware that he has offended the guru and been condemned as an “unripe vessel” until it is too late.
In summary, credible sources, from canonical texts to academic studies and personal testimonies, support the claim that some Tibetan Buddhist gurus have used wrathful magic to punish dissenters. Traditional scriptures describe horrific fates for disciples who violate samaya, and Tibetan histories recount lamas employing curses, effigies, and protective deities to destroy enemies and “oath-breakers.” These examples, past and present, illustrate how the immense power ascribed to Vajrayana masters can morph into a tool of coercion, a “dark side” of guru devotion that Buddhist scholars and leaders are increasingly acknowledging. The evidence is admittedly esoteric, but it paints a consistent picture: under the pretext of protecting the Dharma or upholding sacred vows, some gurus have indeed used wrathful magic, rituals, or effigies to inflict harm on those who oppose or disobey them.
Sources:
Traditional biography of Padmasambhava – Pema Kathang, as cited in Tamak (2017): Guru Rinpoche’s use of a Yaksha effigy ritual to subdue a demon ().
Tsem Rinpoche (2018) – discussion on samaya-breaking and the Dorje Shugden controversy, noting the heavy karma of “disliking the Guru” ( Go On, Break Your Samaya | Tsem Rinpoche). (These illustrate how the belief in wrathful retribution for broken vows persists in modern sectarian contexts.)
This week, a well-known lineage master in Tibetan Buddhism is live-streaming teachings to an international audience. The subject? The Fifty Verses on the Guru, a classical text often revered in Tibetan spiritual circles.
What stands out is not the spiritual inspiration one might expect, but the chilling severity of the warnings directed at anyone who dares to question or criticize the guru. In these verses, critics are threatened with death by plagues, poison, spirits, and natural disasters. They’re told they’ll be attacked by bandits, burned alive, and ultimately “cooked in hell.”
Yes, cooked in hell.
These aren’t metaphorical suggestions. They’re clear, unambiguous threats proclaimed with spiritual authority and recited with solemnity. And they’re being taught to women (a group of nuns) dedicating their lives to a religion that claims to offer liberation.
One may ask, is this liberation? Or is it spiritual coercion?
Consider how the following verses read:
Those great fools who criticize The guru’s feet will die from plagues, Disasters, fevers, evil spirits, Contagions, and from poisons.
They will be killed by tyrants, snakes, Water, fire, dakinis, bandits, And vighna and vinayaka spirits, And then they will go to the hells.
You must never rile the mind Of the master. A fool who does Will certainly be cooked in hell.
These are not compassionate teachings encouraging wisdom and discernment. These are fear-based tactics meant to silence and suppress any legitimate questioning of authority. And they’re not buried in obscure corners of the tradition; they are central, foundational texts, recited aloud in front of devoted students, streamed across the world for anyone to witness.
So what does it say about a religion when its core teachings equate dissent with spiritual doom? What kind of teacher feels justified in repeating these words to those under his care?
And more importantly: what happens to someone who dares to think critically? Remember, many of the advanced gurus have the supernatural ability (siddhi) to read the thoughts of their disciples.
In the wake of widespread abuse scandals across Tibetan Buddhist institutions, many of which have been publicly documented, the insistence on blind obedience to the guru should raise serious red flags. If you’re drawn to Tibetan Buddhism or already involved, ask yourself: Do you feel free to question? Do you feel safe? Perhaps it is time to take an honest look at this tradition.
I came to the realization they were actually evil (you have to understand they can pretend to be good, even despite their demonic names, and twist your mind into believing in them—and it feels very real)—but I couldn’t resist their power.”
They’d love bomb me and then in the next breath become really nasty. Eventually it got to the point I’d see Lucifer walking around my apartment, as a real man, and then take control of my body…and end up raping me.”
These words, pulled from a harrowing testimony posted on Reddit, felt like echoes of my own past, so chillingly familiar that I found myself nodding.
The author of the post, anonymous but heartbreakingly real, shares a decade-long descent into Luciferianism, New Age spirituality, kundalini experiences, possession, and finally, miraculous deliverance by Jesus Christ. Her story is raw, detailed, and unapologetically honest. And for those of us who have lived through the spiritual counterfeit, it rings true on every level.
Like her, I once believed the false light was real. In my case, it came in Tibetan robes, wrapped in Buddhist philosophy and tantric mysticism, cloaked in teachings about “enlightenment” and “emptiness.” Before my first three-year retreat in my twenties, my retreat lama (guru) love-bombed me. He saw my spiritual hunger and poured affection, flattery, and attention into me until the day I resisted his sexual advances. Then his interest in me turned to cruelty. The same happened again, years later, with my second three-year retreat root guru. It’s a familiar pattern to survivors of spiritual abuse: seduction, betrayal, and punishment.
The Reddit testimony describes a similar spiritual seduction, initially sweet and ecstatic, culminating in a brutal loss of bodily autonomy. Demonic spirits love-bombed her, appeared to her as beautiful, powerful entities and then turned violent and abusive, eventually raping her both spiritually and physically. She writes of Lucifer “walking around her apartment… and taking control of her body.” I, too, experienced possession after tantric rituals designed to merge with deities. The difference is, in Tibetan Buddhism, such possession is framed as “blessing.”
And like her, I couldn’t break free until I cried out to Jesus, not under pressure, but because I had nowhere else to turn. When I finally surrendered, I, too, felt deliverance (still ongoing) that was cleansing, and unmistakably holy. It felt like the definite breaking of chains.
This woman’s account is long, but worth reading. You can find the full testimony here. It’s a sobering reminder of how widespread and insidious these spiritual deceptions are and how they shape-shift across traditions, religions, and cultures, but always carry the same fingerprints: seduction, confusion, torment, and ultimate destruction of the soul.
Her courage in speaking out is an act of spiritual warfare, and I share this not to sensationalize her story but to affirm: you are not alone. And yes, there is a way out.
Relic of St. Mary Magdalene in the Metropolitan Museum, NYC
There is a strange and disturbing trend among occult and demonic religions, particularly within esoteric branches of Buddhism, such as Tibetan Vajrayana. These traditions go to great lengths to mimic, distort, and counterfeit elements of the Catholic faith. Why? Because Satan has no creativity of his own. His kingdom is one of imitation, distortion, and inversion. And when we look closer, it becomes chillingly clear: many of these occult systems are designed as spiritual forgeries, imitating the truths of the Catholic Church while replacing Christ with false gods and demons.
Here are just a few examples.
Relics: Holy vs. Unholy
In Catholicism, relics are a beautiful and reverent way the faithful connect with the saints in heaven. The bones, hair, and clothing of saints, when venerated properly, are physical reminders of lives of holiness and union with Christ. First-class relics (parts of a saint’s body), second-class relics (items the saint used), and third-class relics (objects touched to a first-class relic) are all part of an ancient, sacred tradition rooted in the Incarnation: God came in the flesh, and through His Body and those who share in His holiness, the physical becomes a channel of grace.
Now compare this to Tibetan Buddhism and other occult traditions.
Tibetan lamas preserve the bones and hair of deceased teachers and display them in shrines. In some cases, these relics are even mixed into pills or powders thought to convey “blessings” or spiritual power. Even more shockingly, there are “blood pills” created from the blood of high lamas, dried and consumed by devotees, believed to transfer the lama’s blessing and heal the disciples’ illnesses.
What we see here is not simply reverence for a teacher but an occult inversion of the sacred. These objects are treated as talismans or sources of supernatural power, often wrapped in secrecy, ritual, and magical thinking.
Apostolic Succession vs. Tantric Lineage
The Catholic Church has an unbroken apostolic lineage going back to Christ Himself. This is not just symbolic but the real spiritual authority passed from bishop to bishop, from the Apostle Peter to the present-day pope. The sacraments are valid because of this lineage. The Holy Spirit moves through it, not because of magical powers or personal charisma, but because of Christ’s promise to His Church.
Tibetan Buddhism, too, places massive emphasis on “lineage” in the passing of initiations, teachings, and realizations from teacher to student. They claim these go back to the historical Buddha, Sakyamuni. But here’s the problem: the tantras, the core of Tibetan esoteric practice,did not exist during Sakyamuni Buddha’s life. These were later developments, many of which emerged between the 5th and 10th centuries AD, centuries after the Buddha died.
So how do they justify their claims? Through visions, dream revelations, hidden treasure texts (termas), and secret transmissions from spirit beings. These are not testable or historically verifiable. Instead, they mimic the structure of apostolic succession while relying on supernatural claims rooted in occultism. It’s a counterfeit version of Catholic apostolic lineage, one that replaces the Holy Spirit with “dakinis,” “protectors,” and wrathful spirits.
Blessed Sacrament vs. Tantric Empowerments
In the Catholic Church, the Eucharist is the Real Presence of Jesus, body, blood, soul, and divinity. It is the highest form of worship and union with God. Only validly ordained priests can consecrate the Host, and it is surrounded with reverence and liturgy.
IIn tantric Buddhism, “empowerments” are elaborate rituals meant to grant spiritual powers, open energy channels, and “ripen” the disciple for advanced practices. They are sometimes sexually charged, invoking deities (who are really demons in disguise), and can involve ingesting “nectars,” or entering into trance states. Many initiations are based on “secret” transmissions, whispered lineages, or magical seals. These seals are believed to imprint a spiritual mark or bind the practitioner to a specific deity, practice, and lineage. But this is not unique to Tibetan Buddhism. Magical seals are also found in Satanism, Luciferianism, and ceremonial magic, where they are used to summon or bind spirits and demons in exchange for occult knowledge, power, or protection. These seals are spiritual contracts or expressions of unseen allegiances, and their use is never neutral. They are tools of spiritual manipulation that open the soul to influence, possession, or bondage by demonic spirits. In these traditions, the seal acts as a gateway or portal, and it is binding, a counterfeit version of the indelible mark left by the Holy Spirit in baptism or confirmation. Where the Church seals the faithful with chrism and the sign of the cross, occult traditions seal their initiates with marks of spiritual enslavement.
Chrism refers to a consecrated oil used in the Catholic Church during certain sacraments, specifically Baptism, Confirmation, and Holy Orders. It is a mixture of olive oil and balsam, blessed by a bishop during Holy Week.
The use of chrism is deeply symbolic:
It represents the Holy Spirit and divine anointing.
It marks the person as set apart for God, sealed with grace and incorporated into Christ.
The anointing with chrism leaves an indelible spiritual mark on the soul, which can never be removed.
The tantric empowerments claim to transform the practitioner’s body, speech, and mind into that of a deity but again, this is a counterfeit. Instead of communion with God through grace, it’s the deification of the self through ritual manipulation and demonic assistance.
The Church Triumphant vs. the Pantheon of Demons
Catholics honor the communion of saints, those in heaven who intercede for us and serve as models of holiness. Saints are not worshipped; they are venerated. The glory always goes to God.
Tibetan Buddhism features a dizzying pantheon of “yidams” (meditational deities), “protectors,” and “enlightened deities” that are summoned, visualized, and sometimes merged with through complex meditations. These include wrathful, terrifying figures in colors of blue, red, and black, with fangs, skulls, and weapons, dripping with blood or dancing on corpses. Vajrayogini, for example, is often visualized standing on a human corpse, holding a flayed skin and drinking from a skull cup. Although these are claimed to be symbols of transcendence, they are actually demonic imitations of holiness.
Satan’s Strategy: Imitation, Not Innovation
Why does the enemy copy the Church? Because the Catholic Church is the true Bride of Christ. Satan can’t create truth, but he can twist it. His most dangerous weapons are not outright lies, but distorted half-truths wrapped in spiritual language. He dresses up darkness to look like light.
Tibetan Buddhism and similar occult systems offer spiritual hierarchy, ritual, relics, and transmission, but without Christ. They offer communion, but with spirits and demons. They offer transformation, but into false gods, not saints.
The Real Power: Jesus Christ
There is no substitute for the true power of God through Jesus Christ. No blood pill, no tantric lineage, no magical empowerment can wash away sin or bring eternal life. Only Christ, crucified and risen, can do that.
For those who have been caught up in these counterfeit systems, whether through curiosity, spiritual seeking, or deception, it is important to remember that there is hope and it is possible to extricate oneself. Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and his truth is not hidden in secret teachings or passed down in esoteric rituals. It is freely offered to all who repent and believe.
Lately, I’ve been praying for God to continue revealing the truth about what I was involved in during my years of deep immersion in Tibetan Tantra. I’ve asked Him to uncover every layer of deception and to expose every way in which these practices are demonic. And He is answering.
This past week, something profound happened: I experienced mass deliverance through my breath. As I exhaled, demons left me. Over and over again. It was undeniable. And then it hit me: of course they left on the breath. They came in on the breath.
This is not metaphorical. This is how tantra works. The breath is a key mechanism through which demonic entities enter one’s being. Yogic and tantric practices revolve around breath control: deep manipulation and intentional retention of the breath to open oneself to possession by what are euphemistically called “deities” but are, according to Christianity, demons.
In my three-year retreat, the main entities I invoked and merged with were Vajrayogini, the Red Dakini, and her consort. These were not simple meditations or visualizations. These were acts of surrender and identity dissolution. In essence, the goal was full-blown possession, even though it wasn’t couched in those terms and I didn’t realize that is what was happening.
Vajrayogini doesn’t come alone. Her retinue includes approximately 120 assistants, each with its own functions and qualities. That number is staggering, and that’s just one system of practice. In addition to her, I practiced the sadhana of a wrathful black deity with a massive host of demonic attendants. I should stress that these are not benign energies. They are demanding, and potentially violent and spiritually lethal.
But even beyond retreat, I continued to receive more initiations, or so-called empowerments. One that stands out is the Kalachakra initiation in 2011 from the Dalai Lama in Washington, D.C. It was a 10-day, all-day affair. I was zealous, determined to catch every detail of the ritual. I arrived early each morning to watch the Dalai Lama prepare himself by “self-generating” as the deity Kalachakra. It was amazing to watch; he was ritually becoming the deity.
Kalachakra, which means “Wheel of Time,” is a tantric deity surrounded by a staggering retinue of 722 deities. But these aren’t heavenly hosts. According to Christianity, they are demons. Every one of them. The entire system is a carefully constructed spiritual snare designed to bind souls to counterfeit light.
Thousands, maybe millions, have received these same initiations. The Dalai Lama has made it his mission to offer the Kalachakra globally. People believe they are receiving a blessing. But in reality, they are being spiritually colonized. Demonic systems are being seeded into the nations. These rituals are not neutral cultural events. They are portals for dark power.
If you want a glimpse into what may really happening during these ceremonies, I encourage you to read this article that lays it out plainly: Dalai Lama and the Kalachakra
As for me, I’m continuing to pray and seek God’s help in cleansing every layer of my being. What I’m realizing is horrifying but I am confident that God is showing me the truth and setting me free.
In a dusty corner of southern India, something strange is happening. Among the Catholic untouchables of Tamil Nadu the Virgin Mary reigns. These are the Dalit communities who converted to Christianity to escape caste oppression. Here the Virgin Mary is not just the mother of Christ or the Queen of Heaven. She’s the protector from demons, the healer of the possessed, and the exorcist of lustful spirits who prey on young women. [1]
Her name here is Arockyai Mary, “Our Lady of Good Health,” and unlike the goddesses of India’s native pantheon, she never harms. She doesn’t demand blood, or rage, or possess.
This makes her an anomaly in a world where possession is an everyday threat and where menstruation, pregnancy, and the liminal chaos of female sexuality are believed to attract wandering spirits, often the ghosts of those who died violently or before their time. These spirits, it is said, latch onto the vulnerable, especially women, and drive them into trances and convulsions.
And then there are the Hindu goddesses like Mariyamman [2] and Kaliamman [3], powerful but volatile. They heal, but they can also possess, punish, and destroy. Unlike the Virgin Mary, who is seen as unconditionally loving and healing, Mariyamman and Kaliamman’s protection must be earned through ritual and sacrifice. Their presence is often feared as much as it is venerated, revealing a form of feminine divinity that is transactional, fierce, and unpredictable.
The deeper thread that ties this to my own journey through Eastern mysticism and into Catholic truth is that the female deities of India are not so much saviors as they are owners. They ride their devotees like horses often through an overpowering kundalini experience. They enter bodies without informed consent. They demand submission, sacrifice, and pain. This is what possession looks like when the divine manifests as fierce femininity unmoored from moral restraint.
But the Virgin Mary is different in kind, not just degree. She doesn’t exploit vulnerability; she protects it. Her power is rooted in love, not domination. She doesn’t punish women for their sexuality; she guards them from the predators that do.
Many of us who were drawn into the tantric and yogic traditions found ourselves worshiping goddesses we didn’t truly understand such as Kali, Vajrayogini, and Durga. These powerful beings granted “blessings” that often came in the form of disorientation, illness, and spiritual invasion. What we called “awakening” was perhaps possession, wrapped in ritual and mystique.
In the story of the Paraiyar women, we see this clearly. Demonic possession is a warning as well. The culture teaches women that if they stray outside ritual boundaries, if they become too sexually visible, if they travel alone at dusk or cross the wrong river, they open the door to attack. And it’s the Virgin Mary, not Kali, who shows up to cast the darkness out.
Humanity does not need more divine rage, but the one Woman who is pure benevolence: the Mother of Jesus who through her perfection is feared by and can cast out spirits and demonic goddesses.
[1] Source article: Deliège, Robert. “La Possession démoniaque chez les Intouchables catholiques de l’Inde du sud / Demoniac Possession Among the Catholic Untouchables in Southern India.” Archives de sciences sociales des religions, no. 79, 1992, pp. 115–134. Available online.
[2] Mariyamman is a powerful village goddess widely worshipped in South India, especially in Tamil Nadu. Her name combines “mari,” meaning rain or disease, and “amman,” meaning mother—making her the Mother of Rain and Disease. She is especially associated with illnesses like smallpox, fevers, and skin diseases, but also with fertility, childbirth, and protection from evil spirits. Visually, she often appears fierce—sometimes with fiery red skin, holding a trident, and crowned with flames—bearing a resemblance to goddesses like Kali or Durga. Her shrines are typically modest, and her worship is deeply rooted in folk rituals. Devotees may offer animal sacrifices, participate in firewalking, or fall into trances believed to be divine possessions. In many cases, women are the ones possessed by Mariyamman, and these episodes are interpreted as both blessings and warnings—depending on whether the goddess has been properly appeased.
[3] Kaliammam is a fierce village manifestation of the goddess Kali, worshipped primarily in Tamil Nadu and other parts of South India. The name “Kaliamman” translates to “Mother Kali,” reflecting her role as a local protective mother goddess rooted in folk traditions. Like Kali, she is associated with destruction, power, and the eradication of evil, but in the village context, she is also invoked for healing, fertility, and protection from malevolent spirits. Kaliamman is often depicted with dark skin, a lolling tongue, wild hair, and multiple arms holding weapons—symbolizing her unrestrained spiritual power. Her worship includes rituals that are intense and sometimes violent: offerings of blood, possession trances, firewalking, and dramatic acts of devotion are common. She is believed to possess her devotees—often women—either to bless them, deliver a warning, or punish neglect. She must be honored and feared. Her presence reinforces moral and ritual boundaries in the community, demanding reverence through sacrifice and submission rather than drawing near in mercy or compassion.
Vajrayana Buddhism presents itself as a path of radical transformation: a sacred alchemy where ordinary perception is transmuted into enlightened wisdom. Its ritual technologies are often described as “skillful means,” and its magical practices framed as expressions of “Buddha activity.” But the colorful mandalas and enchanting deity meditations may obscure something far more dangerous than most practitioners realize.
According to vajranatha.com, Vajrayana operates through four principal kinds of magical activity, each aligned with a cardinal direction, a color, and a particular type of power:
White (east): for pacifying and healing
Yellow (south): for increasing wealth and wisdom
Red (west): for attraction and control
Dark blue or green (north): for wrathful subjugation and protection
These are personified in the deity forms of White Tara, Dzambhala, Kurukulla, and Vajrakilaya, respectively. Collectively, these “Four Activities” are described as enlightened, but their function mirrors the mechanisms of many other occult systems: healing, sorcery, love spells, exorcism, and domination.
So who, or what, is powering these rituals?
Chögyam Trungpa, one of the most influential Tibetan lamas to bring Vajrayana to the West, once gave a startlingly candid warning:
“Committing oneself to the Vajrayana teaching is like inviting a poisonous snake into bed with you and making love to it. Once you have the possibility of making love to this poisonous snake, it is fantastically pleasurable: you are churning out antideath potion on the spot. The whole snake turns into antideath potion and eternal joy. But if you make the wrong move, that snake will destroy you on the spot.” —Chögyam Trungpa
This is not a metaphor for the all-encompassing wisdom and compassion of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. It is a warning of immense spiritual danger.
Vajrayana demands the total surrender of body, speech, and mind, not only to the teachings, but to the guru and the spiritual forces behind those teachings. This surrender is cloaked in bliss, ecstasy, and the promise of transformation. But as Trungpa makes clear, one wrong move and the very force you trusted can turn lethal. It can turn on a dime.
I experienced this firsthand. It began as a profound visualization and mantra practice during a three-year retreat and gradually turned into energetic torment and psychological destabilization. The deities I once practiced became increasingly foreign, invasive, and predatory. The guru, once seen as a vessel of wisdom, became a wrathful executioner.
These practices are not what they seem: they tap into powerful magic. And one must ask, who is really powering these rituals? Who benefits when a practitioner opens themselves to these entities and their so-called “energies”? Why should we assume these forces are benevolent, simply because they have Buddhist names and appear in ornate, colorful iconography?
The structure described here isn’t just about religious symbolism or spiritual beauty, it reflects a deep psychological system designed to influence the mind through ritual. Vajrayana practices use visualization, chanting, offerings, and mantra repetition to create altered states of consciousness and emotional bonding with supernatural entities. This is what scholars call ritual psychology: the way ritual shapes belief, identity, and experience.
But Vajrayana doesn’t just manipulate the mind. It aligns closely with classic occult systems, ones that use similar rituals to summon, contact, and make pacts with spirits. Healing and increase, attraction and domination are bit neutral tools. They are technologies for channeling unseen forces toward specific outcomes. And these forces are personified, and bonded with through ritual acts that, the deeper you go, begin to resemble spiritual possession with demonic pacts.
In my own experience, the entities I contacted through these practices eventually revealed themselves to be something other than the enlightened mind of the Buddhas, whatever that might be. They had their own will, their own agendas, and their own personalities. Especially in the darker rites of semi-wrathful and wrathful deities, there was a sharp edge of coercion, and spiritual threat.
If we take these rituals seriously, not as colorful mysticism, but as real technologies of spiritual manipulation, then we must also take seriously the possibility that their source may not be benevolent.
Just because it’s branded as “Buddha activity” doesn’t mean it is holy. Survivors of spiritual abuse in Tibetan Buddhism must be brave enough to ask the hard questions. Who, or what, are we inviting into our minds and bodies when we chant these mantras, visualize these beings, and make offerings in exchange for spiritual results? Are these forces truly enlightened or are we just calling them that because we’ve been taught to?
When your healing comes at the cost of spiritual bondage…When your wisdom is bought by making pacts with demons…Something is deeply wrong.
Magic in Vajrayana is not peripheral but central to the practice. And it must be examined not with awe, but with clear-eyed discernment.
The Buddhist Tantras present themselves as the so-called ‘fast track’ to enlightenment, yet their historical origins, practices, and content diverge so significantly from the Buddha’s original teachings that one must ask: has something hijacked Buddhism under the guise of esoteric wisdom? Given that the Buddha never endorsed magical practices, sexual rituals, or deity worship, why would these suddenly emerge in the later tantric texts? Did an alien or even malevolent force infiltrate and co-opt Buddhism?
The Evolution of Tantra: A Radical Departure
David B. Gray’s study of the Cakrasamvara Tantra and Francesco Sferra’s analysis of the Hindu-Buddhist tantric relationship both expose an inconvenient truth: Tantric Buddhism did not originate organically from the Buddha’s teachings. Instead, it emerged centuries later, largely influenced by non-Buddhist elements, specifically, Hindu Śaiva traditions and indigenous occult practices.
The Buddha’s original teachings in the Pali Canon and early Mahayana texts emphasized ethical living, meditation, and wisdom as the path to liberation. Nowhere in the sutras do we find instructions for transgressive sexual rites, violence, or summoning spirits, yet these are prominent features in Tantric Buddhism.
Gray’s study of Cakrasamvara Tantra makes it clear that these texts were not composed within monastic Buddhist institutions but rather in liminal, non-traditional spaces. The practitioners of these tantras, the siddhas, were often depicted as wandering ascetics engaging in bizarre and shocking rituals. This movement incorporated elements of Hindu Kapalika practices, which involved cremation ground rituals, consumption of taboo substances, and the worship of wrathful deities. Such imagery is wholly alien to the serene and ethical path laid out by the Buddha.
Magical Powers and Occult Influences
One of the most glaring discrepancies between Tantra and early Buddhism is the obsession with supernatural powers (siddhis). In the Cakrasamvara Tantra, entire chapters are dedicated to spell-casting, invisibility techniques, and the control of spirits. Gray describes a ritual where an adept pulverizes the skin of a corpse’s foot, mixes it with blood, and recites mantras to gain the power of invisibility. This is not the noble Eightfold Path.
Similarly, Sferra highlights the deep infiltration of Hindu esoteric ideas into Buddhist Tantra. The very concept of mantra as a mechanism for altering reality aligns more closely with Vedic sacrificial traditions than with the Buddha’s core doctrine of impermanence and dependent origination. If enlightenment is beyond form, why is so much emphasis placed on elaborate rituals, deity worship, and secret initiations?
The “Demonic” Question: An Ancient Deception?
Given the radical departure from Buddhist teachings, one must ask: what is really behind the Tantras? If Tantra promises enlightenment but is steeped in dark rituals and transgressive practices, could it be a deception? The Bible describes Satan as a deceiver who masquerades as an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14). Could Tantra be a system where malevolent entities disguise themselves as enlightened deities?
Tantric deities such as Heruka and Vajravārāhī are described as trampling on Hindu gods, signifying the subjugation of earlier traditions. However, they themselves bear striking similarities to wrathful Hindu deities like Bhairava and Kali. Gray notes that these deities were often worshipped in charnel grounds, places of death and decay: locations that, across cultures, have been associated with spirits and demonic activity.
Furthermore, the Yoginītantras introduce figures such as dakinis, who were once seen as flesh-eating spirits but were later reinterpreted as enlightened beings. Why would the Buddha, who taught the renunciation of desire, suddenly endorse interactions with terrifying, sexualized female spirits? Could it be that these entities were never enlightened at all, but rather opportunistic spirits hijacking Buddhism for their own ends?
Why Would the Buddha Suddenly Promote Magic?
Sferra’s work highlights that even within Buddhist circles, there was resistance to the Tantras. The Yoginītantras, which emphasize sexuality and violent rituals, were seen as particularly controversial. The historical Buddha spent his life teaching śīla (morality), samadhi (concentration), and prajñā (wisdom). The introduction of abhiseka (initiation rites), visualization of deities, and sexual yoga represents an alien system grafted onto Buddhism rather than an authentic development of his teachings.
Even within later Buddhist traditions, there were attempts to downplay the more disturbing aspects of Tantra. Gray notes that later Tibetan commentators, such as Tsongkhapa, reinterpreted or omitted elements that were too transgressive. If Tantra were truly the highest Buddhist path, why would it require such extensive revision?
Conclusion: A Counterfeit Path?
Tantric Buddhism presents itself as a shortcut to enlightenment, but historical scrutiny reveals it to be a hybrid system, borrowing heavily from non-Buddhist traditions while contradicting the very essence of the Buddha’s teachings. The emphasis on occult powers, erotic mysticism, and deity worship starkly contrasts with the original Buddhist path.
If the Buddha himself never taught Tantra, why should we accept it as a legitimate form of Buddhism? More disturbingly, given its fixation on spirit invocation, possession, and ritual magic, is it possible that Tantra is not just an aberration but an infiltration? Is it a deception designed to mislead practitioners?
The questions remain open, but one thing is clear: Tantra is not Buddhism as the Buddha taught it. Those seeking truth must discern whether they are walking the Buddha’s path or following an elaborate illusion that masquerades as enlightenment.
REFERENCES:
Gray, David B.The Cakrasamvara Tantra: Its History, Interpretation, and Practice in India and Tibet. Religion Compass 1, no. 6 (2007): 695–710. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1749-8171.2007.00046.x.
Sferra, Francesco. “Some Considerations on the Relationship Between Hindu and Buddhist Tantras.” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 27, no. 1 (2004): 263–307.
Tantric Deception 