Lucifer, Guilt, and Illusion: A Non-Dual Reading of the Series

I. Introduction: What if Hell is just a projection?

The series Lucifer, which starts off as a kind of quirky crime show with a charming devil solving cases in Los Angeles, quickly takes an existential turn. Behind the jokes, wordplay, and biblical references, there's a deeper question: what if what we call "evil" is just a misunderstanding? And what if, deep down, it’s all about us?

When we look at this series through the lens of non-duality and A Course in Miracles, we realize it’s not just entertaining—it’s spiritually brilliant. It reflects the core dynamics of the dream of separation: projected guilt, the need for punishment, and the often clumsy search for true forgiveness.

II. Hell is a state of mind

One of the most striking quotes in the show is from Lucifer himself:

"You’re not locked in here by me. You’re here because you believe you deserve to be. The doors of Hell aren’t locked. They never were. You could leave anytime. But you don’t, because you don’t believe you deserve to."

And this line nearly says it all. Hell isn’t a fiery pit with pitchforks—it’s a mental loop fueled by guilt. No one keeps you there except yourself. That’s exactly what A Course in Miracles teaches: we punish ourselves for a sin we never actually committed. The more we believe we deserve to suffer, the more we reinforce the illusion.

III. The mirror of guilt

Lucifer has a very particular gift: he can get people to reveal their deepest desires. But in truth, this "superpower" constantly confronts him with what others don’t want to see—and with what he himself refuses to face. He feels responsible for everything: the fall, the chaos, the rejection of his father. And even though he plays it cool, inside, he’s tormented.

Then there’s Chloe. She represents innocent love. He wants to believe in it, but can’t. He doesn’t feel worthy. So even when she loves him sincerely, he doubts it. Sounds familiar? That’s what we all do, often without realizing it. Until we forgive ourselves, we can’t truly receive love.

IV. The fall and the body: an illusion of separation

In the writings of Gary Renard, through Arten and Pursah, we learn that the body is a tool the ego uses to justify separation. The ego says: “Look, I’m clearly not you—I have a body.” It’s a clever strategy to maintain the illusion that we are separate beings, each in our own story. Lucifer, having taken on a body, wrestles with this directly.

He wants to be seen, loved, to find his place in the world—but something always feels missing. No outer success can fill the inner void. His very appearance reflects this inner struggle: when he sees himself as the devil, it’s a projection of how he sees himself. The demonic face isn’t a divine punishment—it’s his own self-condemnation made visible. And when his angel wings return, they aren’t a gift from above—they’re a sign that his perception is starting to realign with the truth of who he really is.

He moves back and forth between two images of himself, just as we swing between fear and love, until we choose to listen to another voice. More than once, he rejects his wings, mutilates them, tries to rid himself of them—believing himself unworthy. This rejection symbolizes the belief that we’ve somehow stained our innocence.

But in truth, it’s only our perception that’s clouded. The light never went out—we just drew a curtain over it. And what’s most surprising is that we end up defending that darkness. Like Lucifer, we defend our smallness, our unworthiness, our wounded persona—because we fear discovering it was never real. It can feel safer to believe we’ve fallen than to remember our natural greatness. The ego knows that recognizing our light would be its end. So we cling to our chains, even if they’re not real.

This struggle also plays out through other celestial characters. Mazikeen tries to prove she’s more than a demon. Amenadiel wants to be a good son, brother, father... They’re all trying to justify themselves, to build a more acceptable version of who they are.

This is where we meet the illusion of self-actualization: the belief that we must achieve something to be worthy of love or peace. Even worse, we often believe it’s God who judges or punishes us, as if our failures are evidence that we’re not good enough. That’s exactly what Lucifer believes: that his Father rejected him. But in truth, he’s projecting onto God his own unforgiven guilt.

It’s the same mechanism that makes us think illness is punishment or that hardship is deserved. Yet what we perceive is always a reflection of what we believe ourselves to be. And that belief can change. Because our value doesn’t depend on what we do or don’t do—it is eternal, given by Love itself.

V. Real forgiveness: the way out

At a certain point, Lucifer begins to let go. Not all at once—but little by little, he starts to see that what he thought he had to atone for was just a story he told himself. He believed his father had banished him. But really, he just believed he didn’t deserve His love.

It’s deeply moving to watch their relationship evolve. Because ultimately, God never condemned anyone. It’s only the mind that believes it has separated. Forgiveness, as taught in the Course, isn’t saying “well, it wasn’t that bad”—it’s realizing that nothing happened to affect Love. And that realization is an enormous relief.

"God does not know that you left Heaven. It is impossible, so it never happened."

And in the show, when God finally appears and it’s clear He never stopped loving Lucifer, you feel the truth: all the pain, the rejection, the imagined punishment—it was all in Lucifer’s mind. And the same is true for us. God never left us. We just believed we had to run.

VI. Lucifer in each of us

Lucifer isn’t just a character. He’s a part of each of us. The part that believes it’s too broken to be loved. That wants to believe in love, but doesn’t know how. That hides behind sarcasm to cover up pain.

The good news? It’s all just a dream. And that dream fades when we stop defending it. True forgiveness—the kind that doesn’t excuse but dissolves—shows us there’s nothing to punish.

In the end, Lucifer doesn’t need to be saved. He was never lost. We just need to remember.

"The miracle does not look on illusions. It merely looks and waits and judges not."