Union with the feminine personification of the unconscious is, as we have seen, a well-nigh eschatological experience, a reflection of which is to be found in the Apocalyp-tic Marriage of the Lamb, the Christian form of the hieros-gamos. The passage runs (Revelation 19 : 6-10): And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, say-ing, Alleluia; for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him: for the mar-riage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready. And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints. And he saith unto me: Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true sayings of God. And I fell at his feet to worship him. And he said unto me, See thou do it not: I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren. . . The "he" of the text is the angel that speaks to John; in the language of Paracelsus, he is the homo maior, Adech. I need hardly point out that Venus is closely related to the love-goddess Astarte, whose sacred marriage-festivals were known to every-one. The experience of union underlying these festivals is, psy-chologically, the embrace and coming together again of two souls in the exaltation of spring, in the "true May'; it is the successful reuniting of an apparently hopelessly divided duality in the wholeness of a single being. This unity embraces the mul-tiplicity of all beings. Hence Paracelsus says: "If you know your-selves one with others." Adech is not my self, he is also that of my brothers: "I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren." That is the specific definition of this experience of the coniunc-tio: the self which includes me includes many others also, for the unconscious that is "conceived in our mind" does not belong to me and is not peculiar to me, but is everywhere.
— C. G. Jung
Jung reaches here for the most extreme register available to him — eschatology, the Apocalypse, the marriage feast of Revelation — because the experience he is trying to describe genuinely overwhelms the vocabulary of clinical psychology. The *coniunctio* is not an improvement in functioning. It is the self discovering that it was never the bounded thing it took itself to be.
What the passage quietly dismantles is the possessive grammar we bring to the unconscious. We speak of *my* shadow, *my* anima, as though the depths were private property, annexable to an existing ego. Jung's move here is to collapse that possessiveness at the moment of union: the self that includes you includes the brother, the stranger, the angel who refuses worship by claiming kinship. Adech is not your deepest self in a flattering sense. He is precisely what is *not* peculiar to you — what you share with everyone who has ever stood at the threshold of the same darkness.
The sacred marriage traditions Jung invokes — Astarte's festivals, the Lamb's bride, Paracelsus's homo maior — are not ornaments to a psychological point. They are evidence that this experience has been arriving in human beings for millennia, wearing whatever theological costume the era provided, insisting on the same paradox: to descend into the most intimate interior is to arrive somewhere impersonal and common.
C. G. Jung·Collected Works Volume 3: The Psychogenesis of Mental Disease·1907