Part One
Everything
we know about Jesus is tangled in myth. The narratives of his birth, and
childhood are complete fiction. Even the narrative of his adult ministry,
beginning around the year 30 C.E. is imbued with metaphor and allegory, so much
so that none of it is reliable as history. The narrative that we have received
from the tradition is so thoroughly syncretized to the broader cultural context
of the Near East that we do not even refer to him by his given name; Joshua,
but instead we call him by a Greek variant, Jesus.
If
we desire to understand this story, (as we should) to understand how it came to
be in the form that we have received it, we must engage that broader narrative.
We must engage the complete societal, and theological context from which the Christian
story emerged. We must journey beyond the Palestinian crossroads that was
ancient Judea, beyond the Greco-Roman world, we must go to Persia. That is
where the story begins, with Mithra.
The
“Cult of Mithras” is understudied. It is commonly regarded by scholars as merely
one of many religious movements that competed with the early Christian Church
for the devotion of the masses.
It
was much more than that.
Mithraic
worship, as it was practiced by the Romans, (principally by members of the
Roman army) in the first four centuries of the common era, has its roots in ancient
Persia. It is an offshoot of Zoroastrianism (c. 700 BCE),
evolving through the centuries until it reached
its final form as a “mystery cult” within the Roman army.
Throughout
its evolution, propelled by the extensive influence of the Persian Empire, Mithraism
had a significant impact on every society it encountered, and every form of
worship in the Mediterranean region, the Near East, and Southwest Asia.
This essay is an attempt to communicate the
multiple ways by which Mithraism has influenced the development of other faith
traditions, but most importantly the Judea-Christian tradition, and most
significantly our beliefs about Jesus.
Scholarship on Mithraism is scant.
Most scholarly research tends to downplay the
connection between the form of Mithraism that was practiced by the Roman army,
and the ancient form of Mithraism that was practiced in the heart of Persia. To
justify this, these scholars will site some obvious iconographic and liturgical
differences between the two forms of worship, as if to say that the presence of
a few notable, but nevertheless subtle differences is enough evidence to argue
for a complete separation, and distinction of the traditions, despite the
greater number of obvious similarities.
The following paragraph from David Ulansey’s
book The Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries illustrates this point
clearly. He says:
“The Western mystery cult of
Mithraism as it appeared in the Roman Empire derived its very identity from a
number of characteristics which were completely absent from the Iranian worship
of Mithra: a series of initiations into ever higher levels of the cult
accompanied by strict secrecy about the cult’s doctrines; the distinctive cave
like temples in which the cult’s devotees met; and, most important, the
iconography of the cult, in particular the tauroctony. None of these essential
characteristics of Western Mithraism were to be found in the Iranian worship of
Mithra.
”
Some of his Ulansey’s predecessors have
suggested that the differences between the Persian-Iranian form of Mithraism
and that of the Roman army are the product of natural transformations that
occur in all belief systems as they move from one culture to another, across
great expanses of geography and time.
His particular criticisms have to do with extrinsic
matters of form, and ritual activity, which are the structures that we would
expect to change over time and distance.
The seven stages of initiation, the tauroctony (slaying
of the bull), the codes of secrecy, and the type of temple worship have little
to do with the central tenets of Mithraism, the closely held beliefs that had existed
from the earliest times in Persia, through its final incarnation as a Roman
mystery cult. The central theme remains the same; a belief in the immortality
of the soul, and the notion of personal salvation.
Part Two
In the ancient
Persian form Mithraism; Mithra is a demi-god. He is viewed as the incarnated
scion of Ahura-Mahzda, and Ahura-Mahzda is believed to be the source of all
goodness, creator of the Universe, God of light, and source of all-life.
Some scholars
believe that in its original form; Mithraism was strictly monotheistic (perhaps
the first truly monotheistic belief system), holding that Ahura-Mahzda was the
only deity, and that there were no others.
However, if
Mithraism was originally monotheistic, at some point in its early evolution the
belief system became dualistic. Another deity was established through doctrine,
as a counterpart to Ahura-Mahzda; together they formed a pantheon of sorts.
This secondary deity
was given the name Angra-Mainyu (from whose name we have derived the term
anger). Angra-Mainyu was believed to be the “uncreated” source of evil in the
world, whose agency was in diametric opposition to the light and life of Ahura-Mahzda.
This dualistic
view of reality suggests that the drama of our lives on Earth is a reflection
of the struggle between these two cosmic powers. This clearly defined dualism would
be of great relevance to both Judaism and Christianity in the centuries to
come.
In the later
form of Mithraism, the Mithraism of the Roman Empire, the demi-god Mithra is once
again depicted in that same relationship to the high God. In this cultural
context, the high God is given the name Sol Invictus, and is iconographically
represented as the sun. Mithra is the hero, demi-god and the offspring of Sol.
While this form
of Mithraic worship is best understood as belonging to Rome, it should be noted
that the cult of Sol Invictus, was also prevalent in Gaul prior to the Roman
conquest of the Celts.
In both the
ancient Persian form of Mithraism and the Roman form of Mithraism, the demi-god
Mithra is seen as being sent to Earth by the deity responsible for the creation
of the universe. In the former tradition this is Ahura-Mahzda, in the latter
tradition Sol Invictus.
In the Roman
form of Mithraism the purpose of sending Mithra to Earth is for him to slay the
“Primal Bull.” Upon slaying the bull, Mithra and Sol Invictus feast together
from its flesh. This feast has the effect that Mithra and Sol become con-joined,
through the meal they share, because they have dined together, they are now “one.”
Sol and Mithra
are joined together as one being with coextensive attributes, each sharing the
title Invictus, meaning unconquered. In Roman Mithraism this meal was
considered to be the effective means of salvation for all human beings, and
that by participating in a recreation of the sacred meal, properly sequenced through
the rites of initiation, the individual would become one with Mithra, and therefore
one with Sol Invictus, thereby gaining access to the heavenly worlds of the
afterlife.
As I indicated
earlier in my reference to Ulansey’s work, Persian Mithraism did not depict
Mithra as the “bull-slayer.” The narrative from Persia is as follows: Mithra does
not kill the primal-bull, rather Mithra and the bull are sent to Earth by
Ahura-Mahzda, where they are assailed by the “evil-one.” Angra-Mainyu slays
Mithra and the bull together, in an act of violence.
Angra-Mainyu attempts
to destroy Mithra and the bull, but his efforts are frustrated by Ahura-Mazda. Through
the power of the god of light, stalks of wheat, and the grape vine spring from the
carcass of the bull. All manner of good things, and good creatures flow from
the bull to fill, and populate the created world, and now those good things and
creatures are to be used for the benefit of human beings.
Ahura-Mahzda
trasforms the violence of Angra-Mainyu into a new creation. New life springs
from the bull, Mithra is restored, and returns to Ahura-Mahzda in heaven.
There is no
significant discrepancy between these two forms of the myth.
In both versions
of the myth, Mithra is sent to Earth by a God of greater authority than
himself.
In both versions
of the myth, the bull is slain and its death is productive; both of new life,
and of all good things on the Earth.
In the Roman
version of the myth, the slaying of the bull is an explicit sacrifice.
In the Persian
version of the myth, the intentionality of the sacrifice is implicit.
The Roman
version is not etiological, it does not address the origins of life on Earth,
the Persian version is.
The Roman
version is primarily a teleological myth having to do with human destiny, salvation,
and the life of the immortal soul, it is teleological and eschatological,
insofar as it address the final resolution of conflict and evil in the world.
The Persian version balances these two concerns.
In the Persian
account, Mithra and the Bull are sent to Earth by the creator deity; their
death is a vehicle by which the drama of life on Earth begins, making it a myth
of cosmogonic myth of origins.
Their death,
while being the result of violence perpetrated by the “evil-one” does not serve
the interest of Angra-Mainyu, but does serve the interest of Ahura-Mahzda.
Mithra does not die. His soul is immortal, and returns to heaven. From the body
of the bull comes an abundance of life, demonstrating that Ahura-Mahzda is
greater, because, the God not only has the power to create goodness sui generous (in itself), but also
having the power to bring good out of evil; making the fruit of the labor of
Angra-Mainyu effectively nothing. This profound hope is apparent within the
structure of myth itself.
In both the
Roman and the Persian versions of the myth, the death of the primal bull is
emblematic of life.
It is the
creation of life itself.
It is life
restored.
The principal
actor in both versions of the myth is the creator God, figured as either Ahura-Mahzda,
or Sol Invictus, respectively.
Whether it is Mithra
who kills the bull, or Angra-Mainyu, that does not matter. The slaying of the
bull serves the purpose of the principal actor, Ahura-Mahzda/Sol Invictus, God
of life, God of light, God of good.
What is significant
and most consistent in the worship of Mithra from c. 700 BCE through c. 400 CE,
from Rome to Persia?
It is the belief
in the immortality of the soul, and the notion of personal salvation.
In Mithraism,
this theology underwent a profound development that would have a lasting and
significant impact on other faith traditions in the Near East and broader
Mediterranean world
Part Three
There are
several clues that we can follow. They will help us understand the significance
of Mithraism in relation to other Mediterranean religions; especially Judaism
and Christianity, which we can uncover in the Hebrew and Christian scriptures.
A close study of
the Hebrew scriptures reveals that the Jewish people did not always have (and
do not now have) a strong belief in either the immortality of the soul, or the afterlife.
However, there was a period of time in which these beliefs did flourish.
After the
Babylonian exile, which began in 586 BCE, these beliefs enter the Hebrew
tradition, and over the next few centuries they become more clearly developed,
especially among those Jewish communities remaining in the diaspora, living
outside of Palestine and the former kingdoms of Israel, and Judea, which was
the majority.
When the Jewish
people were released from captivity in Babylon, they were granted their freedom
by the Persians, under the Persin king Cyrus,
who had
just recently conquered the Babylonians.
Cyrus is
depicted by the Jewish people in the Hebrew scriptures, as a servant of their
God, Yahweh:
“22 In
the first year of Cyrus king of Persia—to fulfil the word of Yahweh through
Jeremiah—Yahweh roused the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia to issue a
proclamation and to have it publicly displayed throughout his kingdom.
23
‘Cyrus king of Persia says this, “Yahweh, the God of Heaven, has given me all
the kingdoms of the earth and has appointed me to build him a Temple in
Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever there is among you of all his people, may
his God be with him! Let him go up.”’
”
This
passage does not shed any light on what Cyrus’s theological disposition might
have actually been, or what his personal beliefs were. Whatever that theology was
(or was perceived to be), but we can surmise that his beliefs and the beliefs
of the Persian court did not present a significant conflict with Hebrew
theology at that time.
This
passage indicates that there was no essential antagonism between the
theological claims of these two cultures. Furthermore, it is likely that Cyrus,
or his priests, saw a considerable amount of compatibility between the faiths
of the two cultures and their systems of belief.
At
this time, Persian Mithraism and Judaism were both essentially monotheistic,
though neither of them were perfectly so. They both held, as basic beliefs,
that creation was good.
Mithraism
had a strongly held belief in the immortality of the soul. At this time Judaism
did not, but immediately following this period a movement within Judaism would
develop this theme in profoundly consequential ways. The adherents of that new movement
within the Hebrew culture became known within the Judean community, Samaria and
throughout the diaspora, as the Pharisees.
The
designation Pharisee, is derived from the name of the Persian priests of
Zoroaster, who were called the Parsees. This etymology clearly shows the
intimate connection between Pharisaic Judaism, and the religious traditions of
the Persian Empire.
Even
in Jesus’ time, 500 years after the Babylonian exile; belief in the immortality
of the soul had not fully entered the mainstream of Jewish life, especially
inside the borders of Palestine and Judea itself. This belief system was primarily
taught by the Pharisees, and by the Essenes, in the remote desert community of Qumran.
Belief
in the immortality of the soul was popular among Jewish people for whom the
synagogue was the center of their faith life, and not the temple in Jerusalem.
In
addition to belief in the immortality of the soul, the Pharisees and the
Essenes of Qumran, also had significantly developed angelologies. This belief
in the existence of angels (divine messengers) was another matter that took a
long time to develop in Judaism, but which was already present in Mithraism at
the time of the Babylonian exile.
Our
word angel, meaning divine messenger, comes to English, from the Greek angelos, which is itself derived from
the Persian word, angaros, meaning
courier.
Many
scholars say that it is impossible to state with certainty that the Pharisees
received these teachings directly from the Parsees when they were exposed to
Mithraism at the time of the Babylonian captivity.
It
is also impossible to rule it out.
What
we can say for certain, is that the Pharisees came into existence just after
the Babylonian exile, and I do not believe that these belief systems developed
independently of one another, because I do not believe in that type of
coincidence, therefore I take the Pharisaic movement within Judaism to be a case
of pure theological syncretism, the cultural purchase by the Hebrews of an
earlier Persian theology.
The
Babylonian exile and the subsequent release of the Jewish people by the Persian
king Cyrus were the first of many major streams of influence that Mithraism would
have on the Judeo-Christian tradition.
Prior
to the Babylonian exile; a belief in angels and the immortality of the soul did
not exist as fully developed doctrines, but they did exist in germ, in a latent
form, insofar as they were the generalized beliefs permeating the Mediterranean
region, and the Near East at that time.
It
should be noted that in most Mediterranean and Near Eastern traditions, the
concept of a blessed afterlife, to the extent that such ideas existed, included
the idea that those blessed places were reserved for people of heroic stature.
Because
common people, and slaves did not have the ability to lead a heroic life, they had
no hope of enjoying a blessed state in the hereafter.
Mithraism,
and in more significant ways Christianity changed all of that; by promising the
hope of salvation to anyone, regardless of gender, class, or status. Through
these religions, common people and outcasts were able to entertain hopes of a
blessed afterlife if, and only if they sought to align themselves with the God
of creation, the God of light, and the God goodness, through an initiation into
their mysteries.
Part Four
In
the first century BCE, the most important center for Mithraic worship in the
Hellenistic world was in the region of Cilicia, in the city of Tarsus. Officially,
the patron deity of this city was the Greek demi-god Perseus, but as Ulansey
points out, Perseus, as he was worshipped in Tarsus, was identical to the
Persian Mithra in almost every way.
In
his journals, the Roman general Pompey points out the fact that the people of
Tarsus worship Mithra
and this
is the point of origin for the spread of the Cult of Mithra in the Roman world.
I
want to preface my discussion of the relationship between Mithra and Perseus
with an acknowledgement of the profuse pluralism at work in the Greco-Roman
world at this time. Parallels to Mithra and Perseus can be found in the stories
of many other heroes. Not all of the adventures attributed to Perseus should be
attributed to Mithra, and vice versa. In the Greco-Roman world, the gods and
heroes were regarded differently, in different cities, and different regions,
at different times. The heroes and gods in Greco-Roman mythology are extremely
malleable and blend with one another quite extensively. However, in Tarsus the
parallels between Mithra and Perseus go deep, and they are important; as I will
demonstrate:
“According to
Plutarch, Mithraism began among the pirates of Cilicia, the province bordering
on the southern coast of Asia Minor. These pirates, whose ships ‘numbered more
than a thousand, and the cities captured by them four hundred,’ and whom Pompey
was sent to subdue in 67 BCE, ‘offered strange rites of there own at Olympus,
and celebrated there certain secret rites among which those of Mithras continue
to the present time having been first instituted by them.’…For our purposes,
the most important aspect of Plutarch’s evidence tracing the origins of
Mithraism to the region of Cilicia is the fact that Cilicia—and in particular
its capitol city of Tarsus—was the home of a deeply rooted cult of the hero
Perseus.
”
Among
the Greeks Perseus is considered to be the founder of the city of Tarsus.
Tarsus
is the city bearing the name of the “Primal-Bull,” Taurus.
Perseus,
like Mithra is intimately linked to the sun, referred to as either: Apollo,
Helios or Sol.
Sometimes
Apollo is depicted as making oblations before Perseus, just as Sol is sometimes
depicted as kneeling before Mithra. Also, the order is at times reversed with
Mithra or Perseus kneeling before the deity representing the sun,
this is
done in keeping with the themes of mutuality, and co-extensive identity between
the two.
The
two are one.
In
Greek mythology Perseus is strongly connected with the Persian Empire.
The
Greeks believed that his son, Perses, was the founder of the Persian Empire. Furthermore,
Perseus is always depicted as wearing a Phrygian cap indicating his Asiatic (read
Persian) origins.
“The evidence
for a connection between the figures of Mithras and Perseus is of three kinds:
first, there is the astronomical evidence consisting of the fact that the
constellation Perseus occupies a position in the sky exactly analogous to that
occupied by Mithras in the tauroctony; second, there are a number of striking iconographical
and mythological parallels between the two figures, such as Perseus’ Phrygian
cap, his connection with Persia, and the fact that like Perseus, Mithras always
looks away from his victim; third there is the historical-geographical evidence
linking the origins of Mithraism with Cilicia, the site of an important Perseus
cult.
”
The
astronomical evidence cited above concerns the fact that the constellation
Mithra-Perseus is located directly above the constellation of Taurus the bull, making
it so that if the two constellations are viewed together the figure of
Mithra-Perseus is seen kneeling on the back of the bull, sword in hand, ready
to make the ritual cut while looking away from the sacrificial victim, just as
Mithra is always depicted in the artwork depicting the tauroctony in Mithraic
temples.
These
similarities are too many to ignore.
The
Cults of Mithra, and Perseus were the dominant cults of the city. Each of these
Gods are depicted time, and time again on Tarsian coins. Perseus is the patron
deity of the city, and the city itself is named after the “Primal Bull” of
Mithraic worship.
In
the city of Tarsus, Mithra is Perseus, at least insofar as they were worship.
The
city of Tarsus figures prominently in the syncretism between Mithraism and
Christianity.
Tarsus
is an old town, it originated as a Hittite city in the second millennium BCE. The
Greek historian and geographer Strabo
notes
that by the first century BCE, it was a significant intellectual center
“surpassing Athens and Alexandria.” It was known for its astronomers and
produced the renowned philosophers Athenodorus and Nestor.
More significant
to our thesis is this, it was the birthplace, and home of Saint Paul, Apostle
to the Gentiles, a Jew, a Pharisee, and the most prominent writer of the early
Christian Church.
There
is no research explicitly stating that Paul was aware of, or was influenced by
Mithraism, but to suggest that Paul would not have been aware of the basic
tenets of belief promoted by the major Cult of the city he called home, that
would be improbable.
Furthermore,
Paul was a Pharisee. As I have already indicated in my introduction to the
origins of the Pharisaic sect; the beliefs that Pharisees and Mithraites shared
included beliefs about the immortality of the soul, the notion of personal
salvation, and the ministry of angels.
If
Paul was not directly influenced by Mithraism he was indirectly influenced by
Mithraic ideas, a conclusion we may draw simply by virtue of the fact that Paul
was a Pharisee.
Furthermore,
the prominence of his ministry, and its influence on Christian doctrine,
constitutes a second infusion of Persian cosmology and theology, of Persian
soterieology on the Judeo-Christian tradition, the first being located within the
timeframe of the Babylonian exile, and subsequent diaspora.
Mithraism
influenced the Judeo-Christian tradition, first through the teachings of the Pharisaic
sect in general, second through the teaching of Saint Paul, who was Saul of
Taursus (himself a Pharisee).
I
do not contend that through Mithraism anything substantially “new” was imparted
to the burgeoning Christian movement, but that the prevailing ideas of the
“Persian-Mithraic worldview” were syncretized and concretized by the early
church.
Part Five
By
the fourth century CE Mithraism had spread both through the travels of merchants,
and through the Roman army spreading as far North as Hadrian’s wall in
Bremenium, and as far West as Olisipo on the Western coast of Spain; it had
permeated the Roman provinces of North Africa, and Egypt, and it was thriving
in its home land of Persia; stretching its influence all the way across the Persian
Empire to India.
As
much as two percent of the population of the Roman Empire may have been
initiated into the mysteries of the Cult of Mithra.
The
traditional date to celebrate the birth of Mithra, going back as far as 750
BCE, is a date significant in the Roman calendar also, known as the Saturnalius,
on December 25th. This date is also the celebrated birthday
of such notable people as Julius Caesar, his son by adoption Caesar Augustus, as
well as the first Christian emperor, Constantine; and most famously Jesus of
Nazareth.
The
fact that all of these people shared the same birthday does not constitute
proof of anything regarding the relationship between Mithraism and Christianity.
The Romans used a different calendar in those days, and in that time December
25th was the date of the winter solstice. It was celebrated in
nearly every culture in the Northern hemisphere, because it is that point in
the yearly cycle that the light returns, the days get longer, and the deepest
dark recedes.
The
Cult of Mithra was a “mystery religion,” meaning that it was secretive, it was closed
to outsiders, closed to anyone that did not go through a significant ritual of
initiation. Like other mystery religions, it purported to disclose to its
initiates, the mysteries of the universe.
Outside
of Persia, the main adherents of the Cult of Mithra were members of the Roman
army. There is no evidence that Mithraites were ever persecuted as Christians
were, but like a number of other closed societies in ancient Rome, they had to
keep to themselves and guard their secrets.
The
necessity of secrecy for the cult of Mithra, as with that of many other cults,
had much to do with the paranoid mindset of the Roman emperors.
All
manner of private groups, trade guilds, and burial societies, were periodically
outlawed by one emperor or another; this was on account of the fact that most
of the emperors were insecure in their power, and were constantly suspicious of
treason.
The
fact that the Cult of Mithra recruited many of its members from the Roman army
probably spared it from persecution because the emperors always ruled by fragile
alliances, and loose coalitions with the army.
The
emperors were always dependent on the power of the armies to keep them in the
seat of power. If the emperors were to alienate large groups of their
supporters (the army) through a persecution of their faith, it was guaranteed that
they would lose power.
As
I noted earlier, Ulansey saw the secrecy of the cult of Mithra, as practiced in
the Roman Empire as something distinct from the Persian form of Mithraism. There
are differences between the two systems of belief, but not so great as to merit
the claim that they are distinct from one another. A close look at the
structure of these religious systems; their icons, rituals and beliefs will
reveal crucial things about that relationship, and also the close relationship between
Mithraism and Christianity.
Part Six
In
the Persian form of Mithraism (also referred to as Zoarastrianism), the priests
were called Parsees. Outside of Persia they were known as the Magi. It is from
the Magi that we have derived the term magic.
In
the Roman form of Mithraism; the chief of a Mithraic temple was called father.
To be a “father,” the individual had to have risen through all seven stages of Mithraic
initiation.
The
Magi are of historical significance to the history of Christianity.
The
Magi are present in the infancy narrative of Matthew. They give witness to the
birth of Jesus. In the Gospels they were presented as wise men, and astronomers,
just as the priests of Mithras and Zoroaster were in actuality.
Because
the infancy narrative of Matthew is myth, and not an accurate retelling of
history, the presence of the Magi in his narrative is not accidental. It is purposeful
and therefore indicative of the sympathetic relationship between early
Christians, and first century CE Mithraites.
Why
would a sympathetic relationship exist?
Both
Christians and Mithraites believed in the immortality of the soul, the reality
of personal salvation, the ministry of the angelic host, a God of goodness and
light, as well as the expectation of a final battle with the cosmic forces of
darkness, sin, and evil.
In
the Roman world, by the first century CE, Mithra had taken on the aspect of the
incarnate son of Sol Invictus. Furthermore, in his exalted state, after the
feast he prepared from the flesh of the “Primal Bull,” Mithra is seen as being
identical to Sol.
Mithra
like Christ is seen as being a mediator between Heaven and Earth, responsible
for guiding the souls of the elect to paradise. The iconographic similarities explain
the sympatico between the two faiths.
Ulansey
stated that the worship of Mithra in caves, as it was done among the Romans,
was markedly distinct from the Persian form of worship, saying that we cannot
explain this as something that occurred by way of a natural syncretic
transformation. However, to dispute Ulansey’s claim, we can easily identify
path of transformation through the cult of Perseus, the patron deity of Tarsus.
Note
well, as stated earlier, in the iconography of the city of Tarsus, Perseus and
Mithra are one and the same.
Perseus
is the son of the Titan Zeus, king of the Olympians, and the human Danae.
The
symbolism in their union is profound.
When
Zeus impregnates Danae he comes to her in the form of a shower of gold; not in
the form of a human being, or another type of animal (as was often the case
with Zeus). The impregnation of Danae, by a shower of gold is the only scene
like this depicted in all of the Greek mythologies.
This
is to say that Zeus impregnates Danae in his spirit form, through the exalted
and ephemeral medium of a “golden-mist.” This is the most idealized and
spiritual form Zeus could take.
The
impregnation of Danae in this manner, and the subsequent birth of Perseus, is
the closest thing in all of the Greek mythologies to a “virgin birth,” a conception
narrative analogous to that of Mary conceiving Jesus by the Holy Spirit.
Danae
subsequently gives birth to Perseus in an underground cavern, she remains a
virgin, never having been touched by the hands of men.
In
astronomy the figure of Taurus (the Primal Bull) is the primary symbol of
earth. Insofar as Mithra is transformed and exalted through the death and
“new-life” of the bull, Mithra is also born of the earth.
As
a result, the iconographic narratives of the births of both Perseus and Mithra,
often depict them as emerging from a rock. And it is not unreasonable to
suppose that the underground worship of Mithra served to highlight these
features.
The
earth is the womb wherein we are nurtured, from which we are born, like Mithra,
like Perseus, we are born into new life.
The
worship of Mithra in underground caverns had the effect of limiting Mithraic
circles to small groups of people. The worship of Mithra is thought to have
been exclusively male, though some scholars believe that in some regions women
had their own form of Mithraic devotion.
In
army outposts on the fringes of the Empire, the worship chambers were often
very small, consisting of a narrow room with rows of benches.
In
urban centers the size and splendor of the temples varied with the demographics
of the cities they were in, from simple to ostentatious. However, it remains
the case that most Mithraic worship places were small, and intimate. The
intimacy of these temples bears a close similarity to the “house churches” of the
early Christians. Many of the Mithraic temples found in Roman cities, such as
Ostia, were later converted to Christian worship.
Part Seven
Among
the Romans, Mithraism, like Christianity was centered in the “house church.”
The practice was carried out among people who were intimate with one another.
Individual
practitioners believed that initiation into the mysteries allowed them to receive
immortality through Mithra, but also as a part of a community.
Mithraism,
like Christianity promoted the notion that its teachings would transform the
individual spiritually, while leaving them in the same social position. The
transformation of the individual was interior. It took place in the heart. It manifested
itself in their position in the life of the Mithraic temple, or Mithraic shrine,
as they advanced through the stages of initiation, but that did not mean that
their status, or rank, outside of the Mithraic community would change. A slave
would remain a slave, a plebian would remain a plebian.
The
activities of the cult were closed to the general society, they were secret and
mysterious, and therefore not a cause for disturbance in the social order
outside of the community.
In
Roman Mithraism there were seven stages of initiation; the Crow, the Griffin,
the Soldier, the Lion, the Persian,
the Helio-Dromus (or Sun-Runner), and
finally the Father. The symbolism of the number seven should not be lost on us,
as in Christianity, there are seven sacraments, seven virtues, seven deadly
sins etc…
The
Order of Initiates were grouped in two classes; those in the first four stages
counted as one class, and the last three stages counted as another class. An
initiate would move through the stages of initiation until he became one with
the Father, thereby becoming the Father himself.
At
each stage of initiation, the initiate would learn a secret code that later,
after death, would be used to get him into the heavenly realm appropriate to his
rank. This belief in ranked heavenly planes, and secret passwords that would allow
the individual through the gates of paradise, was widely believed among
practitioners of the Hebrew Kabala (coming out of the Pharisaic Sect), as well
as among groups of Christians who had fallen into the heretical errors of
Gnosticism.
A
ceremony of initiation was called a Telete,
from the Greek word telos, meaning
goal or end.
In
the ceremony of initiation, the initiate would first kneel before the Father.
The Father would then perform a “laying on of hands,” followed by a rite
similar to baptism, wherein the Father would pour water over the head of the
initiate from the horn of a bull. Sometimes the rite of water would be done through
full immersion.
In
cases where the ceremony of initiation was accompanied by an actual animal
sacrifice, the initiate would be splattered with the blood of the sacrificial
animal, or slapped in the face with a shank of meat. In other cases the blood
would be replaced by wine.
This
rite of blood, wine, or water is referred to as the purgation. It was a ritual
cleansing of the individual from their sins. Sometimes the ceremony of
purgation would be completed by passing a torch over the head of the individual,
or even touching the individual with the torch in order to symbolize a baptism
of both fire and water.
The
purgation would be followed by the consecration or coronation, in which a
golden crown would be placed on the head of the initiate; this crown was called
the “solar crown.” Iconographically the solar crown was analogous to the Christian
halo, which term is derived from the Greek; meaning disk of the sun.
There
is much in this symbolism that recalls Christian rituals of initiation; so much
that I will not even make an argument for how intimately linked the two systems
of ritual initiation are. I will simply let the record speak for itself.
It
is the same ritual system.
In
Roman Mithraism, the initiation ceremony would be followed by a feast meant to
symbolize the feast shared by Mithra and Sol.
Ideally,
the sacred feast would come from the sacrifice of a bull, but this was not
required. While the sacrifice of a bull was central to Mithraic worship, as the
cult spread through the empire, and as worship became confined to house
churches, it is thought the sacrifice of the bull was replaced with a symbolic
alternative. Any sacrificial animal could serve for the feat, or even a meal of
bread and wine, could be sufficient.
Such
compromises were theologically sound, because the death of the “Primal Bull”
was productive of all “good things” on the Earth; any of those “good things”
that come from the bull were suitable to be used in the sacred meal. This meal itself,
much like the Christian Eucharist, was thought to be an effective means of
salvation for the worshippers of Mithra.
In Conclusion
Among
the Romans, the first Christian emperor was Saint Constantine, Constantine the
Great, who, prior to his death-bed conversion to Christianity, was also a
devotee of Mithras-Sol Invictus. When Saint Constantine was made emperor, the
first coins struck in his honor depicted his face with the inscription Sol
Invictus.
This
is evidence that Saint Constantine thought that he was himself, an incarnation
of Sol Invictus. This may seem somewhat confusing considering that it is a
matter of historical record that Saint Constantine attributed his victory over
his enemies to Jesus Christ.
Saint
Constantine’s famous vision of the Christian symbol, the Chi-Ro (Px), at the
battle of the Milvian bridge (312 CE), is thought to have enabled his victory when
his army was at the gates of Rome.
However,
in the minds of many practitioners of Mithraism, Jesus and Mithra may have been
considered to have been the same person; believing that Jesus was an
incarnation of Mithra.
If
this is true, it begs the question; if Constantine thought he was Mithra-Sol
Invictus, and if Jesus was also believed to be an incarnation of Mithra, did Saint
Constantine the Great, think that he was an incarnation of Christ, Christ
returned, the Second Coming?
Here
is one thing that I know with certainty, Christianity and Mithraism, as
religious and spiritual philosophies, are both filled with hope:
Hope
for the life of the individual; hope that the individual will ultimately
experience justice. Belief that God is good, and that God has given a light to
humankind that will guide us in the way to paradise.
Mithraism
was less accessible to the average person than Christianity. Mithraism wanted
to keep to its secret ways at a time when Christianity was opening itself to
the world, defining the terms of its orthodoxy, and rooting out those groups of
heretics, the Gnostics, who had those same tendencies that Mithraites did toward
secrecy and exclusivism.
Bibliography
Mithraic Iconography and Ideology, by
Leroy A. Campbell, published by E. J. Brill, 1968
Mithraic Studies, edited by John R.
Hinnells, published by Manchester University Press, 1975
Mithraism in Ostia, edited by Samuel
Laeuchli, published by Northwestern University Press, 1967
The Mithras Liturgy, edited and
translated by Marvin W. Meyer, published by Scholars Press, 1976
Mysteries of Mithras, by Franz Cumont,
translated by Thomas J. McCormack, published by The Open Court Publishing
Company, 1903
The New Jerusalem Bible, Standard
Edition, published by Doubleday, 1989
The Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries,
by David Ulansey, published by Oxford University Press, 1989
The New Oxford Companion to the Bible,
edited by Bruce M. Metzger and Michael D. Coogan, published by Oxford
University Press, 1993
The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian
Church, edited by F. L. Cross and E. A. Livingstone, published by Oxford
University Press, 1997
