Category Archives: Roman Isis

Isis Outside of Egypt

A statue of Isis from a private sanctuary of the Egyptian Gods near Marathon, Greece built by a Roman statesman.

How many of us were Egyptophiles from very early on in our lives, even as children? That’s true of me. You, too?

The power of ancient Egypt is magnetic, irresistible. And our Goddess Isis is perhaps THE most well known—and for some of us, most magnetic and irresistible—of the representatives of Her ancient homeland.

We are not alone in our attraction to Egypt and to Isis. We’re not alone today, and we’re not alone historically. Fascination with Egypt and devotion to Isis spread far beyond the borders of ancient Egypt. In the beginning, Isis was a local Deity. Eventually, Her worship and that of Osiris spread throughout much of Egypt. By the 5th century BCE, the Greek historian Herodotus said Theirs was the only pan-Egyptian worship. (This isn’t so, but it shows how widely their worship had spread within Egypt.)

Isis from a temple in Macedonia, 2nd century BCE

Even during archaic times (as early as 800 BCE), we see traces of devotion, such as inscriptions or votive images, outside of Egypt. By the 4th century BCE, Isis and Her family were adopted into Nubia to the south of Egypt and Greece to the north. Then, from the beginning of Ptolemaic rule in Egypt (305-30 BCE) through the Roman Empire, devotion to Isis spread very quickly.

Due to some ancient documents we still have, we can know that the first temple of Isis was built in Greece, in the Piraeus, Athens’ port city, by the late 4th century BCE. I found an article detailing how that may have come about.

The first thing we hear of it is in a legal document that the folks who had received said document had carved in stone and set up in the Piraeus. They wanted to make sure there would be no mistake that they had proper permission. The people who had it carved were from Cyprus and they had gained permission to set up an Aphrodite sanctuary. The interesting thing for Isiacs is that they had done it on the precedent of Egyptians having built a sanctuary of Isis in the same area. The document is dated to 333/2 BCE. So this means that the formal worship of Isis was established in the Athens area sometime before 333/2 BCE. On the Greek holy island of Delos, sometime about this same period, an altar dedicated to Isis is the oldest of the inscriptions related to the Egyptian Deities.

A priestess of Isis of the period — Funerary relief of Sosiba in the dress of Isis, from Attica

The person who had proposed that Athens grant this permission to the Cyrians was a guy named Lycurgus who was in charge of Athenian finances, and so was quite powerful. At least one scholar has suggested that he had something of a personal interest in the previous Isian sanctuary. His grandfather, also named Lycurgus, may have been the one who proposed that the Egyptians be allowed to build their sanctuary. If it was Lycurgus senior who was connected with the Egyptians and their sanctuary, then that would put the establishment of an Isis temple at Athens about the late 5th century BCE.

However, getting foreign sanctuaries built was not an easy thing. And in fact, Lycurgus senior was thoroughly mocked for his promotion of the Egyptian Deities. He was nicknamed “Ibis” in Aristophanes’ comedy, The Birds. An ancient scribe commenting on this nickname opined that he was called that either because he was Egyptian by birth or due to “his Egyptian ways.” A fragment from another comedian pictured Lycurgus wearing a kalasiris, the long, form-fitting sheath dress of an Egyptian woman. Yet another suggests that Lycurgus might be carrying messages home to “his fellow countrymen” in Egypt.

A reproduction of a sacred image of Isis from the private sanctuary near Marathon that is on site today

Most scholars are pretty sure Lycurgus senior wasn’t Egyptian—and are certain that he was an Athenian citizen—but it seems that he may have indeed been an Egyptophile. What we don’t know for certain is whether Lycurgus the younger was actually the grandson of Lycurgus the Ibis. So there may be no connection at all and the names merely coincidental. The author of the article I’m reading suggests that grants to both to the Isis and Aphrodite devotees may have been more political than religious. Athens had suffered some defeats during this time period. The author suggests that Lycurgus the younger was welcoming sanctuaries from other areas so that he could help build up Athens’ trade and thus its economic power. So it’s always money.

While it may have been money for Lycurgus the financial administrator, it wasn’t just money for other Isis-interested people in the Mediterranean. For instance, we see more Greek parents giving their children names that included Hers at about these same times. Scholars generally agree that when we see an upswing in what are known as theophoric names (“Deity-Bearing” names; for instance, “Isidora” is a theophoric name), we are witnessing an increase in the Deity’s popularity as well. In Greece, we see a few Isis-bearing names in the 3rd century BCE, many in the 2nd century BCE, then an absolute explosion of Isis names from the 1st century BCE through the Roman Imperial period.

Perhaps even more interesting is that people may have taken names that included Hers as a sign of their devotion. This is not so different today. My own theophoric name is a taken name that I legally changed to permanently connect me with Her. And I know I’m not the only one.

Grave stele of Mousa, daughter of Dionysios, dressed as an Isiac

Isis may have been especially important in Miletus, an ancient Greek city in what is now Turkey. There are five women, known from their funerary reliefs, who all bore the name Isias (or Eisias) and had come to Athens from Miletus. Some scholars have suggested that these women may have been former slaves who were freed in the name of Isis and therefore took the name of their deliverer. Others have suggested that they were initiates of Isis who took Her name—or that they may have been both.

Funerary relief of Alexandra in Isis dress, from Roman-era Athens

The five Isis-named women were shown on their grave reliefs in the famous “dress of Isis,” that is, the fringed mantle with Isis knot, and holding the sistrum and situla. But theirs were not the only examples. In fact, we know of 108 such Attic reliefs of women and some men with Isis attributes; the women wear the Isis-knotted dress, while the men hold the sistrum and situla. During the Roman period in Athens, this number makes up one-third of all the known (and published) grave reliefs. If that number reflects true percentages rather than just chance, that’s an awful lot of Isiacs.

In addition to the possibility that these Isis-accoutered people were initiates of Isis, it has also been suggested that they may have either been priest/esses, had a priest/essly function, or may simply have been especially enthusiastic devotees; for example, volunteers who helped maintain the sanctuaries and participated in the rites.

Or they may have been members of religious associations that were connected with the sanctuaries and served both a religious and social function. We know of one such group in particular that was connected to one of the Isis-Sarapis sanctuaries on Delos. It seems likely that enthusiasts would be members, or even founders, of such associations.

People could also stay for a time at the temples. In Apuleius’ tale of initiation into Isis’ Mysteries, prior to deciding to be initiated, his character Lucius simply spends time in Isis’ sanctuary:

I took a room in the temple precincts, and set up house there, and though serving the Goddess as layman only, as yet, I was a constant companion of the priests and a loyal devotee of the Great Deity.
Apuleius, the Golden Ass, Book XI, 19

I wish he had described what specific things he, as a layperson, was allowed to do to serve the Goddess. He does describe, in part, the morning rites to which the public seems to have been welcomed:

I waited for the doors of the shrine to open. The bright white sanctuary curtains were drawn, and we prayed to the august face of the Goddess, as a priest made his ritual rounds of the temple altars, praying and sprinkling water in libation from a chalice filled from a spring within the walls. When the service was finally complete, at the first hour of the day, just as the worshipers with loud cries were greeting the dawn light…
Apuleius, the Golden Ass, Book XI, 20

A Hellenistic bracelet with two busts of Isis, made in Egypt

From the evidence we have from Greek Isis sanctuaries, it seems that the Greeks used priest/essly titles they were familiar with, but with adaptations to fit Isis’ mythos. We have records of a hiereus, a priest, a stolistes, one who adorns the sacred image of Isis, a zakoros, an attendant, a kleidouchos, a key bearer, and a melanophoros, a bearer (or wearer) of the black garments—Isis’ black garments of mourning. We can expect that Isis received offerings of food and drink, as did native Greek Deities.

We have mentions from several Roman writers about devotions to Isis. The poets Propertius and Tibullus complain of the period of sexual abstinence their mistresses undertook for Isis. Ovid writes of the crowds of penitents at the temple of Isis. Tibullus also mentions a ritual called votivas reddere voces in which devotees could join in the singing of the virtues (aretai) of Isis in front of Her temple twice a day. (I wonder if they used any of the aretalogies of Isis we know of.)

A Renaissance statue of Isis by the sculptor Andrea Bregno, in the style of ancient Rome

Interestingly, when Isis comes to Rome, Her Roman worshipers seemed to have tried to make Her worship more “Egyptian” than did Her Greek worshipers. For instance, Roman Isis temples celebrated the rising of Sothis. They added back Egyptian symbols, such as the divine animals: crocodile, baboon, and canine. We see the development of lifelong priesthoods, something done in Egypt, but not done in Greece. Some Roman emperors may have especially appreciated the Egyptian relationship between Isis the Throne and the pharaoh. And it is in Italy that we first see priestesses of Isis rather than just priests.

For modern devotees, knowing the ways in which our spiritual ancestors—whether in Her homeland of Egypt or outside of its borders— honored Isis can inspire us in developing our own ways to honor Her. Whether we make offerings of food upon Her altar, pour libations of milk and wine, or sing of Her virtues before our shrines, we honor the Goddess Who fills our hearts and we connect with those who have gone before us.

Intrigue & Scandal in the Temple of Isis

Have you heard the shocking—shocking, I tell you!—tale of Paulina and Decius in the Roman Temple of Isis? No? Well, then, as a well-educated Isiac you must, you must. And I’m just the gossip to tell it to you. Here’s the tale, then I’ll join you on the other side for some discussion…

In Rome, in the 1st century CE, there lived a young, beautiful, and rich Roman matron of high birth named Paulina. She was modest, of a most virtuous reputation, and completely faithful to her husband, Saturninus. He, too, was noble and of the very highest character, in every way the equal of his wife. Everybody loved Paulina and Saturninus.

Paulina with pseudo-Anubis on the prowl; this art is by Fortunino Matania (1881-1963), Paulina in the Temple of Isis.

A priest in the guise of Anubis; from the Temple of Isis in Pompeii

But now, another man enters the scene to disrupt this ideal couple. Of high equestrian rank—we could call him a knight, he “fell in love” with Paulina. I put that in quotes because it was more like “powerfully lusted after,” as we shall see. His name was Decius Mundus and he simply had to have her. He sent gifts. Paulina returned them. He sent more gifts. She returned those, too. Finally—and who knows why he thought this was the way to go—he offered her the outrageous sum of 200,000 Attic drachmae for one night with her.

Predictably, she turned him down.

Drama queen that he was, Decius decided to starve himself to death for want of Paulina. Apparently, he talked about it endlessly.

One of Decius’ servants, a freed woman named Ide, devised a plot that she proposed to Decius. For a mere 50,000 drachmae, she was sure she could get Decius the woman he so histrionically desired. You see, Ide happened to know that Paulina was a devotee of Isis. While lavish gifts and money were not the way to her bed, perhaps religion was.

Reconstruction of the Iseum Campense in Rome

Ide went to the Temple of Isis and bribed a couple of priests; 25k drachmae now, 25k when Decius succeeds. They agreed and immediately sent one of their number to Paulina. He told her Anubis had given him a message that He was in love with Paulina and wanted to dine and sleep with her. Paulina was flattered. She immediately told Saturninus what Anubis wanted. Apparently he was cool with it, too, so off Paulina went to the Temple of Isis.

Paulina was duly wined and dined without seeing pseudo-Anubis. Then the priests closed the temple and conducted Paulina to the sanctuary, where the lights were put out. Decius leaped out and under the cover of darkness had his way with Paulina. All. Night. Long.

She, rather pleased with the divine experience, went home and proudly told her husband and girlfriends all about it. Her girls were a bit skeptical given the nature of the thing. But since Paulina’s reputation was so immaculate, in the end, they had to believe her.

Three days later, Decius finds Paulina and, sneering at her, admits the whole plot and proves himself to be entirely the asshole we always knew he was. Paulina is pissed. She enlists her husband’s help and he goes straight to Emperor Tiberius. Tiberius has the matter investigated. Eventually the guilty priests and Ide are crucified. The Temple of Isis is razed to the ground. Isis’ sacred image is tossed into the Tiber. And Decius? Merely banished. It was a crime of passion, after all.

Well.

As you can see, this story has almost nothing to do with Isis, except for the venue, some lowlife priests, and, of course, Paulina’s devotion. Aside from its tragicomic-erotic nature, the Paulina story is famous mostly because of the entry right before it in a particular book. The book is Antiquities of the Jews by Flavius Josephus. Josephus’ book is held up as an early source for a historical mention of a certain Jesus, the Christ. (Josephus was ostensibly writing history, so it’s an important mention.) Naturally, there is controversy over whether this is an authentic historical record of Jesus or a later addition by zealous Christians.

Ahmose and Amun conceiving Hatshepsut; pretty tame, eh?

Interestingly, the same has been said about the Paulina story. Some have called it a fabrication by Josephus to explain the real persecution of the Jews and the Isiacs by Tiberius in 19 CE. Others say that the gullibility of both Paulina and Saturninus seems more like the plot of a farce than reality. And indeed, there are several similar fictional tales. In the Roman playwright Plautus’ play Amphitryon, Jupiter is sleeping with Amphytryon’s wife, Alcmena, in the guise of her husband. A tricksy slave—who is really Mercury in disguise—confuses things in support of Jupiter’s lustful cause. After some romantic comedy twists, all is well and Amphytryon is okay with sharing his wife with a God.

Then there is the Alexander Romance, which is a highly fictionalized biography of Alexander the Great. Though we mostly know it from Medieval texts, the original has been dated by experts to anywhere from the 3rd century BCE to the 4th century CE. In this story, the Egyptian pharaoh, Nectanebo (both Nectanebo I and II were builders of Isis’ temple at Philae), is also a mighty magician. Basically, he seduces Alexander the Great’s mother, Olympias, by magic, convincing her that she is sleeping with the God Ammon (Amun). Hence the tale that Alexander is a true Egyptian pharaoh by virtue of his Divine father.

It seems likely that the expulsion of the Jews and the Isiacs in 19 CE (as well as other times in Roman history) was more of a political move than retribution for offenses against a Roman matron. During times of internal turmoil, the emperors would stir up the Romans against outsiders (foreign religions, oh my!) and then there would be expulsions or restrictions of some kind. A juicy sex scandal could be the perfect excuse. (For a broader look at Isis in Rome, go here.) On the other hand, it should be noted that Isis devotees in Rome were more known for their religious abstention from sex during periods known as the Chastity of Isis, and not for their licentiousness.

But let’s get back to our sex scandal…

As most of you know, in Egyptian tradition, one did not have temple sex, sacred or otherwise. On the other hand, Egyptian queens did have sex with Gods to produce future kings; it was part of the royal lore. Hatshepsut claimed Amun as her father, the God having come to her mother Ahmose in the form, no doubt, of her father Thutmose I. And Greek and Roman tales have plenty of Divine-human sexual encounters. Hercules is the result of the lovemaking of Jupiter and Alcmene in the play mentioned above.

I’m reading a paper by a scholar, David Klotz, who thinks that sex with Deities may have indeed been going on in temples of the Egyptian Deities during the Roman period. He starts his argument with a tomb painting from El-Salamuni, near Akhmim. Akhmim was known as Koptos to the Greeks. El-Salamuni has a rockcut chapel to Min. Isis and Min were worshipped together at Koptos. As you may recall, Min is the God with the very upright phallus.

So that I do not leave you in suspense, have a look at the tomb painting here. You should be able to click for a larger image. Based on other representations of Anubis in the tomb, they think the naked fellow with the woman on the couch is Anubis as well. Frankly, I can’t quite tell because the head is so destroyed. You?

Klotz mentions that jackals had a reputation for randyness and that an Egyptian dream manual counts it a good omen if a man dreams of his wife having sex with a jackal. In one of the many papyri found in the Oxyrhynchus (Egypt) cache, was an invitation “to dine at the banquet of the Lord Anubis in the oikos [household] of the [probably] Serapeum.” There are also some known stele, funerary in nature, that feature what appear to be dinner and drinking parties taking place with an image of Anubis in the room with the partiers. In some of them, a couple of people are nude or partially nude.

There is also a spell in the magical papyri (PGM) in which the magician first invokes Anubis, then asks Him to bring the local Deities in. Anubis sets up a banquet table for Them, entertaining them until one of the Deities is willing to give an oracle. Anubis is also invoked in some of the non-consensual “love” spells in the magical papyri. At Saqqara, the mudbrick Bes chambers, which featured large images of Bes with smaller images of naked women and in which erotic terracotta votive statues were found, were located in the precinct of Anubis. It is likely that women came there seeking fertility. We don’t know, but it is possible that priests in Godform helped Bes (Anubis?) out in cases like this.

Finally, there are references in Roman literature that connect Anubis with sexy doings. One is the name of a popular farce called The Adulterous Anubis. The other is one of Juvenal’s satiric poems that says priests in the guise of Anubis were the ones who interceded for wives who had not managed to maintain the Chastity of Isis…for a nice bribe, of course.

Klotz concludes that perhaps there was a tradition of priests dressed as Anubis having sex with women in a temple, likely in a quest to conceive a child. So it may be that the fiction of the Paulina story had some kernel of truth—even if the story as a whole does not.

And, you know…maybe. There is a story from the late Pagan period that a couple went to the temple of Isis and actually did come away with a child; a priestess allowed them to adopt her own child. All kinds of propagandistic hay was made over that incident. But it meant that people did continue to come to Isis in a desire for children. And—one way or another—it did happen.

Isis & the French Connection

In honor of Notre Dame de Paris (“Our Lady of Paris”), and in the expectation that She will indeed rise again in beauty, I offer this post on Our Lady’s extensive connections with the ancient city of Paris.

If you’ve read Isiac lore broadly, you’ve probably come across the idea that the city of Paris is named for Isis, presumably from Per- (the Egyptian word for “house” or “temple”) or Par- (French for “with”) and Her name, Isis. We find that notion in places like Dan Brown’s The DaVinci Code and before him in David Wood’s 1986 book GenIsis: First Book of Revelations and before that in the musings of 17th century amateur “orientalists.”

Unfortunately, it ain’t so.

The name of France’s capital city comes from the Gaulish Parisii clan who had a settlement on what would become the Isle de la Cité, and along the banks of the Seine, starting about 250 BCE. They may have called it something like Lucotocia, possibly from the Celtic word for “marsh.” When Rome conquered them, the Romans built a military base there called Lutetia Parisiorum (“Lutetia of the Parisii”), which eventually got shortened to Paris. Interestingly, there is single mention (in Ptolemy’s Geographica) of a Parisii clan in Yorkshire, England as well, and scholars have speculated whether the Yorkshire Parisii were connected to the Seine Parisii. What’s more, while no one is entirely sure what the name Parisii means, some Celticists think it could come from proto-Celtic words meaning, “commanders,” or perhaps, “fighters,” or—my personal favorite— “they of the cauldrons.”

A gold coin of the Parisii tribe showing a (probably) female head, likely a Goddess. But not Isis.

It is very, very highly unlikely that the “-isii” part of the Parisii tribal name has anything to do with Isis—even in the face of quite a bit of wild-eyed speculation to the contrary; speculation that actually started hundreds of years ago and has grown exponentially of late as things get uncritically replicated across the interwebs.

Section of a map of Roman Paris (after *Crypte Archéologique 2005*, Paris; MacKendrick 1972).

Nevertheless, is it quite true that Isis does have a long history in France—and with the city of Paris. Isis came to Gaul with the Romans, in the same way that Her worship spread throughout the Roman Empire. So yes indeed, there were shrines and temples to Isis in France. This map shows the supposed location of a Roman Temple of Isis, at or near what is today the abbey of St. Germain des Prés in Paris. It is here, rather than at Notre Dame*, that we have the best hope of finding a lingering tradition of Isis’ presence even quite late.

A writer called Jacques le Grant, or Jacques leGrand, writing about the 1400s, recorded this Isis-Paris connection, tracing it to the 8th century CE:

In the days of Charlemagne [8th century] . . . there was a city named Iseos, so named because of the goddess Isis who was venerated there. Now it is called Melun. [Melun is about an hour south of Paris.] Paris owes its name to the same circumstances, Parisius is said to be similar to Iseos, because it is located on the River Seine in the same manner as Melun.

A French manuscript of the 1400s showing Isis arriving in Paris on Her ship

Le Grant’s reference probably comes from a poem about the siege of Paris by the Normans, written in 886 or 887 CE by a monk named Arbon, who had actually witnessed the siege. In it, Arbon supposedly mentions the veneration of Isis at Melun in his time (!). (I say ‘supposedly’ for I have not seen this poem myself so must withhold judgment.)

In a manuscript from about the same time, now in the French Bibliotheque Nationale, we see Isis, dressed as a Medieval woman, alighting in Paris from a ship with the caption, “Here is seen the very ancient Isis, Goddess and queen of the Egyptians.” Apparently, as in this manuscript, Isis’ association with ships and sailing—think Isis Pelagia and Isis Pharia—was one of the reasons the French connected Her with Paris; one of the city’s symbols is a boat, due to the boatlike shape of the Isle de la Cité (where the Parisii were centered), in the middle of the Seine, in the heart of Paris.

Whether or not this is true is not the point. The point is that the city’s closeness with Isis is part of its lore.

The abbey of St. Germain des Prés in Paris

As shown on the map above, some say that a Roman Temple of Isis used to stand in the vicinity of what is today the abbey of St. Germain des Prés. A number of French historians in the 1500s repeated that tradition. And, of course, it was common for churches to be constructed on top of Pagan temples; indeed, it was policy. But I haven’t yet been able to find out whether the St. Germain des Prés tradition is based on archeology or simply on historical references. If you have an archeological source, please tip me off.

However, in texts, we do have an “Issy” associated with the site of the St. Germain complex. Sometime in the 500s, Childebert I, the Frankish king of Paris, gave his estate, Issy, to found a monastery on the site that would eventually become St. Germain des Prés. Scholars think the name “Issy” comes from Medieval Latin Isciacum, probably meaning “estate of Isicius,” a Gallo-Roman landowner. Isicius was most certainly named for the Goddess.

A Roman Isis and Harpocrates. Very Madonna and Child, no?

Is this perhaps the Isis Who stands behind the tradition of a Temple of Isis beneath St. Germain? Writing in the early 1600s, Jacques de Breul, a monk actually from St. Germain des Prés, repeated the tradition that the name Issy came from Isis—which it ultimately did if the Isiacum conjecture is correct—but it doesn’t necessarily confirm the existence of a temple on the spot.

Another St. Germain “Isis sighting” I’m trying to track down is the story that, in 1514, the Archbishop of Meaux had a statue—which looked for all the world like the Christian Madonna and Child—removed from St. Germain des Prés and destroyed.

Update: So the story I’ve found so far is stranger than just “destroyed.” Where I’ve tracked the tale so far is to a footnote in a 1685 translation of The Inestimable Life of the Great Gargantua, Father of Pantagruel by François Rabelais. This particular footnote was the work of one of the many commentators/translators on the French work…which I shall not bother you with relating. But you can dig through it yourself if you are so inclined here.

Anyway. Here’s a paraphrase of the footnote because there’s a bit of weirdness in the translation and I think it will be more comprehensible if I paraphrase:

First of all, the footnote says that Isis is believed to have been the tutelary Deity of the Parisians “when they were in the state of Paganism.” (Starts well, no?) Then it proceeds to say that the “idol” they had consecrated to Her was “still subsisting, and in good condition” in the abbey of St. Gemain des Près as of the beginning of the 16th century. However, the note goes on to say, in 1514, it was taken away by order of Guillaume Briçonnet, Bishop of Meaux and Abbot of St. Germain, who put up a red cross in the room where it had been. Even then, the image was not destroyed. “As for the idol, her statue, which was tall and erect, rough and discolored with age,” it was placed against the wall on the north side, where the crucifix of the church stands, “and it was naked, except some drapery in a certain place of two.”

Well. So, not destroyed, but kept? Interesting. What’s more, I kinda think the storyteller here may be telling stories. There were no Isis images “naked, except some drapery in a certain place or two.” Aphrodite, perhaps. But I seriously doubt an image like that would have ended up in a church. It seems to me more like an ever-so-pagan fantasy of the old gentlemen of the 16th century. (Those of you who have been following along have, no doubt, seen several of my rants about the old gentlemen of the 19th century.)

What did that Archbishop think he knew? I’ve ordered a book with the references. I’ll let you know what discover once I check it out. (See above.)

Isis had Her place in the French Revolution as well. As part of the celebrations commemorating the anniversary of the Revolution, in 1793, the Parisians built a huge image of Isis, symbolizing Nature and Regeneration, in the form of a fountain with water pouring from Her breasts. Both politicians and populace came to drink of the water of the Goddess and be renewed. The fountain was—quel dommage!—only temporary. As it was made of bronze-painted plaster, it no longer exists.

The Parisian ship with enthroned Isis on the prow from Napoleon’s 1811 Paris Coat of Arms

The demise of the Revolution did not mean the end of Isis’ French connection. It remained so prevalent that Napoleon—who had developed a severe case of Egyptomania following his Egyptian expedition in 1799—had it checked out by his own scholar. Apparently he was sufficiently convinced that he had a Parisian Coat of Arms designed that included an enthroned Isis on the prow of the “Ship of Paris,” which was shown following the Goddess’ sacred star.

(Much of this has been collected by Robert Bauval and Graham Hancock in their book, Talisman. It’s an older publication, but I just ordered a copy. I suspect I may reach different conclusions than the authors did, but I do appreciate the work they did in collecting the pieces of the tradition and I will definitely be following up on the references.)

Isis is also to be found deeply embedded in the occult traditions of Paris, but that’s a topic too big to get into in one post. Here are links to some Isis connections from the early 20th century with two of my favorite occultists: MacGregor and Moina Mathers.

Dali with his work, called both “Aphrodisiac Telephone” and “Lobster Telephone”…no doubt Nerval’s lobster inspired the Surrealist artist

Yet for now, let’s turn our attention toward the Arts of the period, for She is very much found there as well.

There we meet Gérard de Nerval, French Romantic poet, Symbolist hero, and proto-Surrealist, and a person who did much thinking on the Divine Feminine.

As was so often true —especially for the artists, writers, and occultists who were clearly sharing ideas during this period—for Nerval, one of the most important forms the Divine Feminine takes is Isis. Nerval is a mad poet; literally. He seemed to have suffered from depression and probably schizophrenia. He believed that dreams were the true reality, which is why he was so inspired the Surrealists, but sometimes he had trouble sorting out dream from waking state. He also had some charming and well-known quirks. For instance, he kept a pet lobster, which he took for walks in the park leading it by a blue, satin ribbon, and declaring it a better pet than a dog for it never barked and knew the secrets of the deeps.

Nerval wrote poems and prose, including a piece called “Isis” (1845). It appears in a collection of short prose entitled Les Filles du Feu, the “Girls of Fire.” Isis is the only Goddess among the fiery girls, though Nerval wrote poems about other Pagan Goddesses and Gods as well. “Isis” is more journalistic than poetic. Nerval writes about a party held by an ambassador in Naples. It was a costumed ball in which the life of ancient Pompeii was evoked, including the sunset rites at the Temple of Isis, which Nerval found to be the most inspiring events of the evening.

Nerval describes the temple and the “secret” rites held therein, all the while comparing them and Isis with Christian rites and Mary. This discussion then serves as a launching pad for Nerval to write about Apuleius’ tale of initiation into the Mysteries of Isis. You can feel his yearning as he describes the yearning of Lucius for Isis.

Indeed Nerval spent most of his life longing for feminine love, both human and Divine. Eventually, he could no longer function in the world, his mental illness incapacitating him. He committed suicide just ten years after he wrote “Isis”.

Sometimes we might wonder how it is that Isis, unlike so many of our ancient Goddesses, was never forgotten. From the time She was first recognized in ancient Egypt to now, Isis has never been completely out of human consciousness. Anytime we start pulling on an Isis thread—lore about ancient Isis temples in Paris or Fiery Girls Who take up residence in a mad poet’s dreams—we keep on discovering Her. For me, these discoveries, while always delightful, are no longer surprising. She is always there because She has always been there. She could not be forgotten because She is.

The Pilier des Nautes found beneath Notre Dame

*Notre Dame is not the site of an ancient temple of Isis. There is a crypt beneath the Notre Dame plaza that you can go into and see the archeological remains, all the way back to the Roman ones. For a long time, people thought that there may have been a Jupiter temple there due to the discovery of a large Roman column dedicated to Jupiter by the guild of boatmen in the 1st century CE. It has both Roman and Celtic Deities on it and is the oldest monument in Paris. Today, scholars have evidence to think that the pillar was moved from the Left Bank to the Isle de la Cité…so the question of whether the island was home to any Pagan temple remains unanswered.

Sacred vessels of the Goddess Isis

"To London, at the Temple of Isis" — “To London, at the temple of Isis”

It is finally spring. And here in the Pacific Northwest, we are having a classic one. Last weekend sunny and 70, this one wet and 50. For some reason (probably as I have been planting), this reminds me of vessels. So I hope you will enjoy this little excursion into some of the sacred and sacred-ish vessels associated with the Isis…

There is a very famous jug found in what is now Tooley Street in the Southwark borough of London. It doesn’t look like much; it’s about a foot high, just terracotta, with a graffito scratched on its surface. The jug is dated to the latter part of the 1st century CE.

It’s important because of what that graffito says. It says,”LONDINI AD FANVM ISIDIS,” that is, “To London at the temple of Isis”. Thus it confirms the existence of a temple of Isis in ancient London. One more reference to the temple has been uncovered locally as well. It’s a 3rd century CE altar (which had been used as part of a wall) with an inscription that states that the Isis temple had fallen down due to age, but had now been restored.

Together, these finds are the only certain evidence of an actual Isis temple anywhere in Roman Britain. (There are other artifacts—figurines, hairpins with Her image—that indicate Her presence in London, but nothing else about a temple.)

An Italian terracotta showing Isis with Harpocrates and Anubis. Her London devotees may have owned similar votive images.

The jug has been presumed to be a wine jug that may have belonged to a tavern near the temple, perhaps even a tavern dedicated to Isis. There is archeological precedent for taverns being located near temples as well as for being dedicated to Deities.

Other scholars have wondered whether the jug may have belonged to the temple itself. In particular, some have suggested that it may have been part of the feasting that would take place at temples by the religious associations who tended them. There is precedent for this, too.

Back in Egypt, demotic texts speak of “Days of Drinking” that became a term for the meetings of such groups. In Egypt, the groups were probably influenced by Greek symposia, meaning “drinking together,” and thiasoi, which were voluntary religious associations like our modern covens as well as larger organizations like the Fellowship of Isis. Yet there was native tradition, too. A scholar who studied this believes that the demotic name, Days of Drinking, may derive from one of the ancient Egyptian lunar festivals, which would no doubt include feasting and drinking as well.

A model of Londinium in the 1st century CE, from the London Museum

Such an association of Isiacs would not have been out of place in Roman London. We find them throughout the Empire. Archeologists have also found several other jugs inscribed with Isis’ name from other parts of the Empire.

I haven’t been able to find out whether anyone has actually tested residue from the Southwark jug to discover if it ever contained wine, but it sure looks like a classic wine jug—whether for use as part of the religious festivals at the temple or by the tavern next door.

The Southwark jug is, of course, not the only vessel with which Isis is connected. By the Late Period, She is especially associated with what is usually referred to as a situla, a container for sacred liquids. Many representations of Her show a sistrum in one hand and a situla in the other, some of these situlae conspicuously breast-shaped.

The situla is not exclusive to the religion of Isis. From approximately the 19th dynasty onward, these small ritual buckets, washeb in Egyptian, were used to carry offerings of Nile water or milk in the cults of many Egyptian Deities. A text from Denderah that describes rites for Osiris specifically mentions a “situla of gold.” Situlae were usually decorated with scenes involving fertility, nourishment, or the cult of the specific Deity for Whom there were being used.

Scenes on the situale might include images of the nurturing Cow Goddess, images that suggest fertility, such as the plump Nile God or a Child God on a lotus, or sexual images such as the ithyphallic God Min. It seems clear that the breast or womb-like vessel was associated with the nurturing, fertile, and sexual aspects of the Divine—and thus very appropriate to Isis.

While the situla is spoutless, a different type of spouted vessel is also connected with Isis. It is the urnula or hydreion. It is from a later period and found in Isiac representations outside of Egypt.

Roman priestesses and priests of Isis, the urnula is carried by the priestess on the far right — Roman priestesses and priests of Isis; urnulas are carried by the priestesses on the right and left, situlae are carried by the priests

Nonetheless, it was always made to look Egyptian, decorated with Egyptian scenes and hieroglyphs and usually with a rearing cobra on the handle. The urnula was specifically for carrying sacred water, especially sacred Nile water. We don’t know for certain, but it most likely was used to pour libation offerings to the Goddess. In Apuleius’ novelized account of initiation into the Mysteries of Isis, he says that the vessel “represented the Highest Deity.”

A charming vessel in which to store "the milk of a woman who has borne a son" — A charming vessel in the shape of mother and child; it held human milk, which was used in healing medicines

I have argued in Isis Magic, that Isis is one of the Great “Container” Goddesses, that is, one of the Great Mother Goddesses Who Contain All Things.

The concept of the Mother as Great Container is easy to understand. Like the human mother who contains the child and, once born, the milk to nourish it, the Great Mother contains all creatures and provides sustenance for them through the blessings of nature. Judging by the numerous gynomorphic vessels that have been found throughout all regions of the world, the concept of Great Mother as Container of All appears to have been common throughout the prehistoric world.

So, from a specific Isiac vessel, we can take our exploration of Isis to an expanded and more symbolic level. She is at once the Goddess celebrated in feasting and drinking together and She is the Lady of the Vessel and the Great Vessel Herself. She is the All-Containing One Who gives us life and nourishment, in life and in death.

Iphis, Ianthe, and Isis, the LGBT-friendly Goddess

This is one of my favorite posts. It has been criticized for being a too-modern interpretation of an ancient tale. The tale itself is merely a retelling and paraphrase from a translation of Ovid; so that is as it is. And yes, my interpretation is indeed modern. But reinterpretation is itself part of our Pagan heritage. Look at how philosophers reinterpreted ancient myths so they were relevant to their own thought. In Egypt, scribes made notes in the margins of older written texts, explaining the ancient symbols and stories for their own age. Because that is the power of the tale, the power of myth, the power of story. The core of it remains the same, but when we look at it with our modern eyes and take it into our modern hearts, we discover our own interpretations, enabling ancient myth to live for us today.

Hear now the tale of Iphis and Ianthe, told by the Roman poet Ovid (43 BCE -17/18 CE):

In the Phaestos region of Crete, lived a couple named Ligdus and Telethusa. Telethusa was pregnant and near to her time. As the birth of their child approached, Ligdus told Telethusa that he wished for her two things: first, that the birth cause her no pain, and second, that the child be a boy. For if the child wasn’t a boy, he commanded Telethusa to put her to death. (Girls were too much trouble and weak, you see.) Then they both wept.
Crying herself to sleep, Telethusa dreamed. She dreamed of Isis. Accompanied by the entire Egyptian retinue, the Goddess came and spoke to Telethusa:
“O, you who belong to Me, forget your heavy cares and do not obey your husband. When Lucina [Roman Goddess of Childbirth] has eased the birth, whatever sex the child has, do not hesitate to raise it. I am the Goddess, Who, when prevailed upon, brings help and strength: you will have no cause to complain that the Divinity you worshipped lacks gratitude.”

The child, of course, was a girl. Obeying the Goddess, Telethusa kept the baby and raised her as a boy. Her father even named her after his grandfather, Iphis. As Iphis was a name appropriate for either boy or girl, the mother secretly rejoiced. As Iphis grew, her features were such that she would have been considered beautiful whether a boy or a girl.

Time passed and Iphis’ father betrothed Iphis to the lovely Ianthe. The two met when quite young and were taught by the same teachers. From very early on, Iphis and Ianthe loved each other. For her part, Ianthe anticipated marriage to her beautiful Iphis. Iphis, on the other hand, as Ovid puts it, “loved one whom she despaired of being able to have, and this itself increased her passion, a girl on fire for a girl.”

Iphis wept, railed, and lamented her love for another girl. Iphis does not understand. She calls her passion monstrous and extreme and wants to wish it away—sort of. But eventually, Iphis pulls herself together and gives herself a good talking to. After all, she has almost everything she wants. Both her parents and Ianthe’s are happy with the match, Ianthe herself is happy with the match, and certainly Iphis is happy with the match (though she is afraid of the revelation of the wedding night). So she stops complaining and prays for the wedding to come.

Her mother Telethusa, on the other hand, feared what would happen when the two girls were wed. So she kept putting off the ceremony with a whole series of excuses. Yet finally, the wedding could be delayed no more. In desperation, Telethusa takes Iphis to the Temple of Isis. She throws herself upon the Goddess altar, crying and praying to Isis for help—for, after all, it was by the word of the Goddess Herself that Iphis lives!

Suddenly, the altar of the Goddess begins to shake. The temple doors tremble. The horns on the headdress of the statue of Isis shine like the moon and the rattling of sistra is heard throughout the temple. Heartened, mother and daughter take their leave of the Goddess. But as Telethusa turns to look at her daughter, she sees that Iphis now has a tanned, less ladylike, complexion, shorter hair, sharper features, and a longer, more masculine stride. Behold! Iphis is transformed into a boy.

In gratitude to Isis, mother and now, son, place a votive tablet in Her temple. And the next day, Iphis and Ianthe wed…and, we presume, lived happily ever after.

This story comes from a book called Metamorphoses in which Ovid tells the history of the world from Creation to Julius Caesar in a collection of myths about transformations of one kind or another. It was an immediate bestseller when first published and continues to exert influence and inspire art to this day. One of our best sources for over 250 classical myths, it was a major inspiration for Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Milton.

The story illustrates a number of things about Our Goddess. First, it demonstrates Her soteriological function; Isis is well known as a Savior Goddess in the Roman period, and She saves Iphis and her mother in their time of need. The traditional Isian theme of dream visitation is part of the tale, too. In dream, Isis makes a promise to Telethusa, who “belongs to Her,” and She keeps the promise. Her saving nature, Her communication through dream, and Her ability to be there—in an immediate, even physical way—for Her devotees were all well-known aspects of the religion of classical Isis. But perhaps most importantly, the story shows the power of Isis’ magic.

In this tale, as from the beginning, Isis is the Goddess of Magic. And transformation is specifically one of the things She does. In one of the tales in the Egyptian myth cycle known as the Contendings of Horus and Set, for example, Isis transforms Herself into a beautiful young maiden, an old woman, and Her sacred raptor, the kite (a form She takes quite often, as a matter of fact). In this case, She transforms a girl into a boy; and so Iphis becomes a transgendered Isiac.

We cannot know for certain what Ovid meant to impart by this tale and I don’t want to read too much into it. Yet I feel quite comfortable putting a modern interpretation on it and understanding in it the love of Isis for Her transgendered devotees. Modern priestesses, priests, and devotees of Isis come in all sexual orientations. We all hear the voice of the Goddess. We all feel Her strong wings. We all taste Her magic. She lives in all our hearts.

The Path of Sacred Magic & the Goddess

This is my essay published in the recent Awaken the Feminine anthology. Many of the authors are sharing their essays freely on their blogs. And so am I. Feel free to share it as you wish, too. Click the book title above to go to the Amazon.com site to see the list of authors and even to buy a copy for yourself. All authors donated their work to this book. Oh, and since this essay was written for a general, if Goddessy, audience, so some of you will probably already be familiar with some of these ideas.

What if I told you that magic was real?

Would it call to mind a popular card game? Or perhaps Harry Potter and the Hogwarts gang? Would you imagine an illusionist making elephants disappear from the Las Vegas stage? Or would you have visions of witches with poppets and pins and poisons dancing in your head?

The real magic I’m talking about is none of those things. The Path of Sacred Magic is, in fact, an ancient spiritual tradition, one that may still be followed today and which I believe has much to offer us. It is a way of opening ourselves to greater possibilities, a method of connecting intimately and personally with the Divine. It is but one of many ancient yet enduring pathways to Goddess, to God, that is being rediscovered by women and men who are no longer satisfied with the rigid spiritualities most readily offered to them. The Path of Sacred Magic is about transformation; and transformation—of ourselves, our societies, and our world—is exactly what so many of us seek today.

But before we go further, what do I mean by “magic”?

Opening to enchantment

The Replenish card from the game *Magic.* It lets you get all your “enchantments” back. Of course, it’s Egyptian-ish.

When we speak casually of magic today, for instance, when we say that the Yuletide season or the springtime is a magical time of year, we mean that it is out of the ordinary, special. Our senses are heightened. Lights seem brighter. Scents are more pungent and evoke memories and images. Music is clearer, more beautiful, more meaningful. The numinous seems to be with us in the faces of the people we meet, in the very earth itself.

This enhanced perception of the world, this enchantment if you will, is something we human beings crave. Indeed, we have long complained about the world’s disenchantment. German sociologist Max Weber famously decried it in the early 1900s and before him Friedrich Schiller in the early 1800s. No doubt the complaint goes back much farther than that. More recently, psychotherapist and former monk Thomas Moore’s books Care of the Soul and The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life were best sellers, indicating just how many of us are longing for a world in which magic and mystery are alive once more.

This is precisely what the Path of Sacred Magic can do. It can open us to the enchantment of the world that already exists. It can show us ways to participate in the Mysteries—of life, of spirit, of the Divine. It can also empower us to do something about healing the so-very-many things that desperately need healing these days. By helping us focus our attention and awaken our souls, sacred magic heightens our senses so that we perceive in a more-than-ordinary way. This state of heightened perception may be invoked by a magical ceremony, by meditation, by prayer—or it may come upon us spontaneously, often when overawed by nature. No matter how magical perception comes upon us, it expands our senses and we perceive what we ordinarily might not perceive in our day-to-day consciousness.

Such magical perception is neither fantasy nor an illusion that we are creating in our heads. It is a genuine expansion of our perceptive ability, not a diminishment. We’re not closing off the world of reality. We are instead expanding our ability to perceive more than just physical reality.

If we are of a spiritual inclination, the Path of Sacred Magic can help us reach out toward the Divine; for many of us reading this book, toward the Goddess specifically. Magical perception can help us grow in Her presence, undergo Her initiations of life and of death with greater understanding, and to more deeply explore Her holy Mystery.

Isis, Goddess of Sacred Magic

For me, magic is sacred because its source is the Divine.

As little as ten years ago, whenever you read anything about the Great Egyptian Goddess Isis, She was almost invariably described as a Fertility Goddess. That’s not untrue; She—along with most Egyptian Deities—are important to the fertility of the land and to the fertility of the human beings and other creatures who live upon it. Fertility is a vital and eternal human concern. But “fertility Goddess” does not get to the essence of Isis.

You’d also see Her described as a Great Mother. This, too, is true. In Egyptian tradition, She is the mother of Horus, and thus of the pharaoh; a vital concept in ancient Egypt. As Isis became more widely worshipped, She also came to be experienced as the Great Mother of the World. Yet again, to me, this does not get to the essence of Isis.

Today, I am very pleased to see Isis increasingly described as what is indeed one of Her core identities: Goddess of Magic. While Isis is a Primordial Goddess, a Great Mother, a Lady of Nature, a Queen of the Mysteries, a Goddess of Women, a Goddess of Death and Renewal, and more, each of these aspects is supported by Her central identity as Goddess of Magic.

What the ancient Egyptians meant by “magic”

To the ancient Egyptians, the essential and primordial power of the Egyptian Goddesses and Gods was the power of magic. Through magic, the Universe comes into being. Through magic, all things live. Through magic, the Deities accomplish all that is Their will.

Werethekau (“Great of Magic”) as a winged Cobra Goddess

The Egyptian word that Egyptologists translate as “magic” is heka (HAY-kah). It is a very flexible word. It can mean the power of magic, an act of magic, magic words, magical formulae, a magician, or the God Magic. As a God, Heka is said to be the first-created thing and it is because of Him that all the Deities live. Thus the ancient Egyptians conceived of magic as a living force, a primordial power, the very energy of the universe.

They believed heka to be the essential, living energy that infuses and underlies all things, both spiritual and physical. Heka—magic—connects everything and allows the levels of Being to interpenetrate and affect each other. Magic is required to ascend to the realm of the Deities, which was every ancient Egyptian’s post mortem goal. By learning to come into harmony with the magic that is woven into all things, human beings can commune with the Deities, transform and be transformed, have increased effect in the world, and be spiritually renewed.

As Lady of Magic, the Great Goddess Isis is the patroness, embodiment, and most-potent wielder of this sacred, powerful, and living energy. The ancients called Her Iset Hekaiet, Isis the Magician; Iset Ichet, Isis the Sorceress; Nebet Heka, Lady of Magic; and my personal favorite, Great of Magic: Weret Hekau.

Out of Egypt: Mageia Hiera

As Isis’s worship spread from Her native Egypt to Greece, Rome, and beyond, Her identity as Lady of Magic followed. In the Greek Magical Papyri, a fascinating and sometimes-beautiful collection of ancient magical texts, Isis appears in healing rites, love spells, divinations, and She is associated with the mystery of the moon, of darkness, and the underworld.

Yet one of Isis’ strongest and most enduring connections is with what is often called “high magic” or spiritual magic. The association of Isis with spiritual magic was so consistent that when Plotinus, the Greek founder of Neoplatonism, agreed to a magical evocation of his guardian spirit, the Egyptian priest who conducted the ceremony declared that it could only take place in the Temple of Isis because it was the only “pure place” appropriate for the working of such high magic in all of Rome.

Just as we often do today, the ancients distinguished spellcasting from spiritual magic. In Greek, one term they used for spiritual magic is mageia hiera, “sacred magic.” In the Papyri, mageia hiera is especially associated with initiation and the magician is called an initiate. It may be that sacred magic as a personal spiritual practice grew out of the spiritual experiences of the Ancient Mysteries. In Her Mysteries, Isis is considered to be a Savior Goddess and, as She always has, offers renewal and rebirth after death.

The main shrine of the Temple of Isis in Pompeii.
Photo copyright Forrest 2009.

In his Apologia, Apuleius of Madaura, a 2nd-century-CE initiate of the Mysteries of Isis and author of our only surviving first-person account of an initiation into any of the Ancient Mysteries, defined magic as a religious tradition dealing with the Divine. He called it an art that the Deities Themselves accepted and which gave human beings knowledge of how to worship and honor the Deities.

Sacred magic then is a spiritual path for approaching the Divine.

Another ancient term for spiritual magic is theourgia, anglicized as theurgy, and meaning “divine working.” The method of theurgy is ritual work. In other words, theurgy is ritual magic for spiritual purposes—for communion with the Divine and the spiritual growth it fosters. One of theurgy’s greatest proponents, the 4th-century-CE Neoplatonist Iamblichus, insisted that theurgy works not simply because of the mechanism of the ritual, but because of the foundation of Divine love that supports the process. The Deities respond to our invocations because They love us. I heartily agree, and most especially in the case of Isis.

There is a band named Kore Kosmou…and they have a gorgeous album cover

Isis also appears in the Corpus Hermeticum, a collection of influential spiritual teaching texts, purporting to be Egyptian (and now proving to be much more Egyptian than scholars previously thought, but that’s another story), but written in Greek in what appears to be the style of Greek philosophical dialogs. Isis is one of the key Hermetic teachers. In a text called Kore Kosmou, or Virgin of the World (2nd or 3rd century CE), Isis instructs Her son Horus that philosophy and magic sustain the soul just as medicines sustain the body. Thus magic is on a par with the high art of philosophy.

An enduring magical tradition

At the height of Her ancient religion, Isis was known throughout the Mediterranean world as the Goddess of Ten Thousand Names; She became a universal Goddess. Her universality, along with the great popularity of Her religion with highborn and lowborn people of both sexes, put Her in a unique position. For many people in the polytheistic Græco-Roman world, Isis became THE Goddess.

This is important for understanding why—even with the coming of the Christian Empire and the outlawing of all Pagan worship—Isis and Her sacred magic retained an important place in human consciousness. As The Goddess, Isis could represent the totality of the Divine Feminine, even while retaining the exotic Egyptian-ness that made Her so attractive to so many in the first place.

While Mary became the outward, Christian face of the Goddess in the West, Isis entered into the hidden world, the occult world. There, the secret truth of the Divine Feminine was kept alive in a variety of powerful forms: in magical traditions, in alchemy, in the work of first-feminists like the 13th-century-CE Christine de Pisan, in euhemeristic stories that were often considered to be historical, in wisdom teachings, among the Rosicrucians, in the early Masonic lodges, and in the temples and lodges of late-19th, early-20th-century occultists like the magicians of the Golden Dawn and Dion Fortune. Today, Isis is still one of the most-invoked Goddesses among Goddess devotees, Neo-Pagans, Wiccans, Kemetic polytheists, Magicians of many different traditions, and others. The over-26,000-member, international Fellowship of Isis continues the tradition of honoring Isis as a universal Goddess Who can represent in some way the totality of the Divine Feminine to its members.

Isis & sacred magic today

While we cannot claim that the worship of Isis is an uninterrupted religious tradition, we can rightfully say that Isis never fully left human awareness. And neither did magic. Both merely went underground. But today, with our souls crying out for the re-enchantment of the world, our lives, and our spirits; with the eternal and deeply felt need for connection with our Divine Mother, Who IS a Sacred Magician, the Path of Mageia Hiera beckons to us. We can walk that sacred path. We can reawaken Magic and Mystery and let it flower within us once more.

But how?

For those of us attracted to Isis Great of Magic, we can begin by learning about Her religious traditions, including the sacred magical traditions. Tradition enables us to learn about Her and to discover ways to think about Her. If we know Who She was for those who went before us, perhaps we can learn Who She is for us. If we know more about the symbols traditionally associated with Her, the stories traditionally told about Her (at least the ones of which we have records), then we will find we can come into a sweet communion with that deep current of the Feminine Divine river that is Isis.

Tradition can provide the roots of our devotion. It can give us an anchor for our modern love of Isis as we walk the Path of Sacred Magic. It can give us a way to feel close to Her. We can learn and interpret anew Her ancient myths. We can give Her the offerings that were traditionally given to Her. If we are of a scholarly bent, we might learn a bit about hieroglyphs so that we can write Her name in the ancient ways. We may use excerpts from the Egyptian sacred texts in our rites or sing Her traditional epithets in chant. All these, and more, are the methods of sacred magic. They are “a religious tradition dealing with things divine.” They give us ways to approach the Great Goddess Isis.

Yet tradition should not constrain us. Ancient magic is not Her only magic. Tradition may provide the anchor and roots, but not necessarily the wind in the sails of our boat or the sunlight necessary for blossoming. (Isis is perhaps the quintessential Goddess for our dizzying, technological times; for if any Goddess can lay claim to the title of Technologia, it is Isis. But that, too, is a story for another day.)

Artist Audrey Flack titles it “Egyptian Rocket Goddess.” I like to think of Her as Isis Technologia.

Thousands of years have passed since Isis’ name was first spoken in praise by human beings. History shows us how Isis manifested Herself differently to the different people who knew Her throughout the long ages. During that time, human beings changed. We are changing right now. And we shall continue to do so. This means that our experience of Isis will never be exactly the same as our ancient sisters and brothers. So while our understanding of Isis may begin with the roots of tradition, it must continue with the flowering of our own experiences of Her. Now. And here.

Those of us who are attracted to Isis today are heirs to a powerful spiritual tradition of sacred magic that we are called upon to bring forward into the present and the future. By opening ourselves to Isis through the Mysteries and rites of mageia hiera, we experience the sacred. We grow, transforming ourselves beneath Her wings. We discover who we really are, becoming wiser and more compassionate. We learn how to live more authentically, in greater harmony with our true selves and with the Divine reality of the Goddess.

The ancient worshippers of Isis found the creative and renewing power of magic to be both natural and, in the hands of their loving Goddess, a great boon to humanity. They understood magic to be inseparable from a relationship with Isis, the Goddess of Magic and a Sacred Magician Herself. Like them, we can have the same understanding. From the compassionate magic of healing to the ecstasy of the theurgic union that renews the spirit and deepens the soul, we can know all these things as part of the Path of Sacred Magic that is now, and always has been, guided by the hand of Isis.

The Goddess of Willendorf

In Search of the Feminine Divine