Fallible Prophets and Apostles?

What distinguishes the witness of the prophets and the apostles, so that it can have this significance for the existence of the congregation and its proclamation to the world? After all, they were men fallible as we are, children of their time as we are of ours, and their spiritual horizon was as limited as ours—in significant ways, even more limited than ours. Whoever enjoys that sort of thing can again and again demonstrate that their natural science, conception of the world, and also to a great extent their morality cannot be binding for us. They told all sorts of sagas and legends and at least made free use of all kinds of mythological material. In many things they said—and in some important propositions—they contradicted each other. With few exceptions they were not remarkable theologians. They have only their election and calling to commend them. But this counts! Their many-sided testimony has, in its own way and in its own place, one and the same center, subject and content: Jesus of Nazareth,… (Barth, Karl, p.59, ‘God Here and Now’,2006)

Labyrinths, Smiths, and Swansuits??

This morning, I spent some time online investigating Minoan religious belief and rituals, and came across The Dance of the Labyrinth (read the whole thing because it’s cool), that mentioned the Icelandic name for Labyrinth, Volundarhus, that means ‘Wayland’s House’, Wayland (Volund), being the lame smith from Germanic/Nordic mythology.

According to the Myth, Wayland was held prisoner in his own house, until he eventually managed to avenge himself, and flew away in his ex-wife’s swan suit. This leads to an interesting parallel to Daedalus the craftsman who flew to freedom, with his son Icarus, after both were imprisoned within the labyrinth (that he himself devised). I first noticed the parallel a month ago after reading Walking as Art.

Recently I also started following a thread at Mythography Forums concerning the Greek smith god Hephaestus, that began to investigate craftsman gods in general, including their association with labyrinths (the honey bee dance stuff I found especially fascinating).

Earlier on, I came across another great article called The Sun at Midnight – Metalworking and the Sacred Smith.

It’s an interesting area of research, which can take off in so many different directions. Recently I wrote a short entry entitled In the Footsteps of Recreation, where I focus upon the lame Chinese emperor Yu, who learned how to control the floods by imitating a ritual (shamanic and limping) dance performed by birds, reminiscent of Theseus’s Crane dance, that imitated the complexities of the labyrinth.

I’m really taken by the idea of assuming bird form (like a Shaman) to overcome the labyrinth, and I’m keeping my eye open for any more similar and related myths.

Right, where was I? ah, yes, Minoan religion and ritual….

Assyrian Panels from the North-West palace of Nimrud

I took these photographs in 2000 at the British Museum. Unfortunately, the photo quality isn’t too good, because I was using a disposable camera without a flash. I’ve tried to enhance then a bit in an image editor. Luckily I took some notes, so I can tell you a bit about them.

This is a panel depicting King Ashurnasirpal, flanked by eagle-headed protective spirits. It comes (as do the rest of these exhibits) from the North-West palace of Nimrud in Assyria, and dates somewhere between 865-860 B.C.

This panel, along with another, stood at the head of a room. The surviving walls of which were otherwize panelled entirely with eagle-headed spirits and sacred trees.

Eagle-headed protective spirit between saced trees. The sacred trees were completed on adjoining panels.

Four-winged protective spirit, holding a mace, guarding one of the doors to the royal throne room.

In this panel, king Ashurnasirpal appears twice, dressed in ritual robes and holding the mace symbolising authority. In front of him there is a sacred tree possibly symbolising life, and he makes a gesture of worship to a god in a winged mask. The god, who may be the sun god Shamash, has a ring in one hand; an ancient Mesopotamian symbol of god-given kingship. Protective spirits are on either side, placed behind the royal throne.

Protective spirit with branch and carrying a deer. Guarded one of the doors to the royal thone room.

Sacred Tree

Palace of Nimrud links

king Ashurnasirpal and the Northwest Palace at Nimrud
Nimrud Palace Reliefs at the British Museum

The wound motif

The wound motif of the mythological victim assumes many forms, ranging from the violently horrific portrayals of castration and dismemberment, as suffered by Osiris, to more subtle symbolic forms of death, such as induced sleep and the curse of blindness, both inflicted upon the Cyclops Polyphemus. Occasionally the mythological victim will enter the realm of death directly in a form of underworld/otherworld or oceanic journey, like Odysseus, where the dividing line between death and life – as in the motif of the sleeping god – tends to become blurred. This state between death and life is also evident in the motif of the maimed god, who remains alive, yet perpetually suffers from an incurable wound, as in the case of the grail/fisher King from Arthurian romance.

Typically, the fate of the mythological victim is bound up in some form of physical injury. The three most prominent wound motifs in this category, are dismemberment (Osiris, Zagreus, Purusha, Orpheus, Pangu, Ymir, Avalokiteshvara), castration (Shiva, Attis, Adonis, Osiris, Izanagi, Ouranos), and an injury to the foot (Bran, seed of the woman ‘Genesis 3:15′, Philoctetes, Centaur Cheiron, Centaur Pholus, Talos, Krishna, Diarmaid, Achilles, Ra), specifically to the heel.

Lunar beasts (part three)

The Mysteries of Mithras

Those initiated into the mysteries of Mithras achieved cosmic release by way of the revolving planets, which appear in Mithraic Iconography, each planet (Saturn, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, Moon, and Sun) according to Celsus (Origen: Against Celcus 6:22), corresponding with a ladder of seven celestial gateways, surmounted by an eighth gateway, most likely transcendent of the celestial realm. The so-called Mithras Liturgy mentions that the pathway of the visible gods (i.e: the planets), is illuminated by the disc of the sun, the emblem of the indestructible god and gateway to the realm of the gods beyond (545-625). According to Jerome (Letter ‘to Laeta’ 107:2), there were eight stages of initiation (raven, bridegroom, soldier, lion, Perseus, sun, Crab, and father), presumably corresponding with the eight gateways.

In antiquity, numerous writers claim that the mysteries of Mithras took place within a cave and the god himself was born from a rock. Mithraic temples, called Mithraea (known collectively as Mithraeum), were windowless underground structures, evidently imitative of natural caves, and particularly of the mythological cave that enclosed the cosmos. In certain Mithraea, pumex stone was used to imitate the natural appearance of a cave, stars were painted on the ceiling, and the use of artificial light to replicate the heavenly bodies have all served to create the illusion of the celestial realm, according to Mithraic cosmology.

Statues depict Mithras birth, fully grown, from a rock, sometimes enclosed by a coiled serpent, reminiscent of the Orphic creation myth of the birth of the double-sexed being Phanes (Meaning ‘light’, also known as Protogonus ‘firstborn’, among other names), hatched from a serpent entwined cosmic egg. The rock-born motif appears to represent a paradoxical double truth, that Mithras birth within the cosmos and the cosmic creation itself were simultaneous events.

Also associated with the Mithraic cult was the statue of a lion-headed figure (leontocephaline), whose body was entwined by a spiraling serpent. This statue, I believe, represents both the lunar-temporal reality, corresponding with the revolving (serpentine) planetary path leading to cosmic release, and the solar-eternal reality, corresponding with the eighth gate mentioned by Celcus, as the indestructible lion’s head. The serpent also corresponds with the image of the Ouroboros that encircles the world, that in Greek mythology was Oceanus, who himself appears frequently in Mithraic iconography.

The central mystery involved Mithras slaying a bull within a cosmic cave. Leading up to this image of cosmic sacrifice is a sequence of iconic images of Mithras capturing and wrestling the bull. The bull slaying scene itself, known as the Taruoctony, depicts Mithras with his left knee pressed down upon the beast’s arched back, while With his left hand the god pulls back the bull’s head by the nostrils, and cuts the creature’s throat with a knife. The posture of the bull is reminiscent of the waxing crescent moon, while the god himself (the eternal god born within the temporal realm), is like the rising sun.

Other creatures accompany the sacrifice, including a crab and scorpion attacking the bull’s genitals (castration motif), and a dog and serpent attacking the bull’s bleeding throat. To the left and right of the bull slaying scene stand the twin torch bearers, Cautes and Cautopates, dressed Persian style like Mithras, with Phrygian caps. Above Cautes, whose torch points upwards (towards the realm of life) is an image of sol, the sun, who is sometimes riding an ascending chariot, while above Cautopates, whose torch points downwards (towards the realm of death), is Luna, goddess of the moon, sometimes riding a descending chariot drawn by bulls. Luna is also often depicted wearing a lunar headdress reminiscent of bull horns, and it is surely no coincidence that Mithras pulls back the head of the bull, as if transfixed and staring directly towards the moon, while the god himself looks towards the sun.

In various iconic representations, both Mithras and Sol are shown together, and Mithras himself was called Deus Sol Invictus. In one scene Mithras and Sol are sitting together partaking in a meal, presumably of bull flesh. In another scene Sol kneels before Mithras, and it seems apparent that the sun derives it’s power from Mithras himself.

The combined lunar-solar aspects of the god, represented in the leontocephaline, are distinct in the Taruoctony, and there is no other evidence that Mithras himself was ever thought to be both the lunar bull who is slain, as well as the solar god who slays. We find a similar distinction in the Zoroastrian creation myth (see part one). However, in the ancient lore of the mythological victim the god was clearly both.