Starting in the late-Ptolemaic period, we begin to hear of a Goddess called Neotera or TheaNeotera, the “Younger One” or the “Younger Goddess.” She’s a bit enigmatic because researchers aren’t sure exactly Who (or even who) She (or she) is.
Egyptologists have made a number of suggestions as to Her identity. Some identify Her as a Goddess, while others say she is a deified queen. (Hence my earlier capitalization ambiguity.)
A coin with Kleopatra Thea Neotera
Let’s look at the deified queen part first. Because that deified queen was most likely to have been Kleopatra VII; yes, THAT Kleopatra, the last of the Ptolemies, last ruler of an independent Egypt.
The Ptolemaic queens were into identification with Goddesses, Isis and Aphrodite being their top picks. Kleopatra, as mother of baby pharaoh Ceasarion, claimed for herself the title Nea Isis, “the New Isis.” What’s more, there actually were coins of the time bearing her image and the title of Thea Neotera. These were made by Kleopatra and Marcus Antonius for places outside of Egypt and meant to bolster her image in the greater world.
Isis-Kore-Persephone with Hades and His hound Kerberos/Cerberus
In Egypt, as you know, it was not unusual for there to be funerary cult maintained for rulers after their death and so we learn of a “great Kleopatreion” surviving at Rosetta (40 miles east of Alexandria, where the Rosetta Stone was found) into the 4th or 5th century CE. Alexandria was particularly resistant to Roman rule and it seems likely that, as Egypt’s last ruler, Kleopatra would have become popular with the people and her cult kept for long after her death. So Neotera certainly was Kleopatra VII in some instances.
Close up of Isis Kore with sistrum
But that is by no means the end of this quest.
Let’s move over to the Goddess side of the ledger. When Demeter and Persephone (also called Kore, “the Girl”) are named together, Kore is sometimes given the title Thea Neotera. She is the Younger Goddess in comparison with Her mother Demeter. Alexandria had a very famous festival of Kore, duly groused about by the Christian polemicist Ephiphanius. You can read his grouse here; you’ll need to scroll down. At Her temple at Denderah, the Great Goddess Hathor is called Aphrodite Thea Neotera (recall that this is a mostly Ptolemaic temple).
Isis Tyche with Isis knot, rudder, and cornucopia
Yet we also find all these Goddesses as separate Beings. In one of the many papyri found preserved in the trash dump in the Egyptian city of Oxyrhynchus, we have a document that records the return of certain temple properties in which we learn that Oxyrhynchus had separate temples to Kore and to Neotera. Among the Neotera temple goods was a bronze statuette of Neotera as well as a rudder that was one of Her symbols.
So that’s a bit of a clue about Neotera’s nature. The rudder makes Her a guiding Goddess. We also have a small gemstone with an inscription on both sides. On the obverse, the inscription refers to Sarapis. On the reverse, the inscription is “Great Fortune of the Invincible Neotera.” And so Neotera is also associated with good fortune. Since Fate and Fortune were considered to be “invincible” powers, our Goddess Neotera must be even more invincibly powerful as the one Who rules them.
Now, since the gem also has Sarapis on it, Isis would be a good candidate for Neotera; Sarapis is Her consort in this period. And one of Isis’ sacred symbols is indeed the rudder. Plus, as Isis-Tyche and Agathetyche, She is well known as the Lady of Fate and Good Fortune. But, Isis is not usually considered the younger one. In the Egyptian myth, She is, in fact, the older sister.
Isis Demeter
From Gerasa, modern Jordan, we have an inscription that accompanies an image of Zeus-Helios-Great Sarapis, Isis, and Neotera. The article I’m reading wonders whether Neotera here is Hathor-Aphrodite or Nephthys, but then rejects both options. Yet, it seems to me that Nephthys is a good option here. The combined God Zeus-Helios-Sarapis is common at that time and the God Sarapis is a later development from Osiris. It would be natural to have Isis and Neotera-Nephthys with Him.
A later grousing Christian, Athanasius, complains that Isis, Kore, and Neotera were human women who became deified “among the Egyptians.” So, for Athanasius at least, Neotera is known to be Egyptian, though Her name/epithet is Greek. And She is separate from Isis and Kore. An Italian Egyptologist, L. Moretti, (and some others, but I’m still looking for those) has indeed suggested that Neotera was a Greek interpretation of Nephthys. And while I like the idea that Gerasa’s Neotera might be Nephthys, it would have been quite unusual for Nephthys to be among the exported “Egyptian Gods” at that time. When people outside of Egypt referred to the Egyptian Gods then, they meant specifically Isis, Sarapis, Anubis, and Harpokrates.
Isis, Nephthys, and the Osiris (the dead person)
A scholar of Hebrew texts notes that a cult of Neotera-Isis was practiced in Roman Palestine—and the people there would also have been exposed to the prior Kleopatra Thea Neotera coins. He further notes that the worship of Isis was to be found in Israel at Raphia, Gaza, and Ashkelon. According to a rabbinical text, however, if you should happen to find evidence of that worship—such as an image of a breastfeeding woman, a ring with a moon or Sarapis on it—you were supposed to take it and toss it into the Dead Sea. (Let’s excavate!)
Isis Tyche with Isis Knot, rudder, and cornucopia
So, now I must come to the disappointing conclusion that, except where we see the epithet Neotera with another name—Kore Neotera or Kleopatra Thea Neotera, for example—we have no definitive answer as to Who the Goddess Neotera is. I thought I was going to be able to identify Her with Isis’ Younger Goddess sister. But so far, there’s just not enough evidence. Some scholars have suggested that, over time, the epithet Neotera got separated from (perhaps) Kleopatra’s Thea Neotera epithet and eventually became a separate Goddess; an egregore Goddess, we might say?
Yet our best clue as to Her nature still comes from the rudder symbol and the gemstone naming Her as Fortune. Thus, we can invoke Neotera for Good Fortune and for steering our lives in the right direction with Her wise rudder.
But, of course, we already have a Goddess Who just happens to also cover those areas: Isis, She of the Rudder, Giver of Good Fortune, Ruler of Fate.
Hello, Isiacs. I’m reposting this because, well, it’s that time of year and this question must be answered. Again.
Every year, at about this time, one post on this blog starts to get a lot more “traffic,” that is, visitors viewing it, than any other. (In fact, it’s already started.)
It’s the one about Horus being born on December 25th. Likely, people are searching for information about how Christianity absorbed Pagan winter solstice traditions (from the non-Christian side) or how it most certainly did not (from the Christian side). The statement about Horus’ birth on that date is often used to dismiss the Christian tradition of the birth of the Christ on December 25th (and by inference, Christian tradition in general) as “mere Pagan superstition.” Which is rude to both Pagans and Christians.
Early Christianity most certainly was influenced by the people and cultures around it. But the thing I specifically wanted to look into was the birth of Holy Baby Horus from the Holy Virgin Isis on December 25th.
Gotta love the expression of both Deities’ faces.
What bothered me about it was that I thought that the December 25th date was stretching the truth to make a point; the point being that the “real meaning of Christmas” was, in fact, the celebration of a Pagan Deity Who was born on the winter solstice. Why should we have to distort the truth to make that point?
As you might expect from a sun-focused culture—the winter solstice was quite important in Egyptian culture and religion. There are many inscriptions and texts to support this, as well as a number of temples and monuments oriented toward the winter solstice sunrise. Temples with that orientation were often dedicated to Re-Hor-Akhty, Re-Horus of the Horizon.
In the 17th year of the reign of Pharaoh Amenemhet I (approx. 1991-1962 BCE), the king chose to take a new title as the sun approached winter solstice. The title was Nem-mestu, Repeater of Births. This designation was also given to the dead and may refer to daily/yearly solar rebirth or even to reincarnation.
Amenemhet I, Repeater of Births
But still, that’s the winter solstice, usually December 21 or 22, not December 25.
The Greek priest Plutarch, writing in the late 1st and early 2nd century CE, is our source for the most complete version of the Isis and Osiris myth that we have. In his essay, he mentions several Egyptian winter solstice traditions, including the birth of Harpokrates (from Hor-pa-khered, Horus the Child) on the winter solstice. (I quote it here at length because I like the snarky lead-in):
Thus we shall attack the many boring people who find pleasure in associating the activities of these gods with the seasonal changes of the atmosphere or with the growths, sowing, and plowing of crops, and who say that Osiris is being buried when the corn is sown and hidden in the earth, and that he lives again and reappears when it begins to sprout. For this reason it is said that Isis, when she was aware of her being pregnant, put on a protective amulet on the sixth day of Phaophi, and at the winter solstice gave birth to Harpocrates, imperfect and prematurely born, amid plants that burgeoned and sprouted before their season . . . and they are said to celebrate the days of her confinement after the spring equinox.
Plutarch, On Isis and Osiris, 65B-c
Since Horus is a solar God, His birth at the winter solstice—even to the extent that He is “imperfect and prematurely born” at that time—makes symbolic sense. (Calendar translation is always tricky, but in this later period, the 6th of Phaophi would be sometime in October or November by our calendar. So if Isis was going to give birth at the solstice, She would have had to have been pretty inattentive to have only worn a protective amulet that late in Her pregnancy. Seems more likely that She put on the protective amulet in the more dangerous weeks just prior to giving birth.) This tradition of Horus’ winter solstice birth was still going strong in the 4th and 5th centuries CE. Another writer, Macrobius, famous for his book about the Saturnalia festival, notes that:
…at the winter solstice, the sun would seem to be a little child like that which the Egyptians bring forth from a shrine on the appointed day, since the day is then at its shortest and the god is accordingly shown as a tiny infant.
Macrobius, Saturnalia, 1.18:10
The Egyptians weren’t the only ones to note and welcome the winter solstice with its soon-to-be-lengthening days. Just as there are today, there were other winter holy days around the time of the winter solstice. You’re probably familiar with the Roman Saturnalia (Greek Kronia) which took place from December 17th through the 23rd (at its most developed stage). It was a carnivalesque festival with plenty of partying and gift-giving on the last day, just a day or two from the astronomical solstice.
The 4th century CE Christian polemicist, Epiphanius, notes two very interesting Pagan festivals that took place “on the very night of Epiphany,” which is Epiphanius’ preferred date for the birth of the Christos (January 6). He grouches that “many places deceitfully celebrate a very great festival on the very night of the Epiphany, to deceive the idolaters who believe them into hoping in the imposture and not seeking the truth.” (Epiphanius, Panarion, 22,8) Of the celebration in Alexandria, he writes:
First, at Alexandria, in the Koreum, as they call it; it is a very large temple, the shrine of Kore. They stay up all night singing hymns to the idol with a flute accompaniment. And when they have concluded their nightlong vigil, torchbearers descend into an underground shrine after cockcrow and bring up a wooden image which is seated naked on a litter. It has a sign of the cross inlaid with gold on its forehead, two other such signs, one on each hand and two other signs, one actually on each of its two knees—altogether five signs with a gold impress. And they carry the image itself seven times around the innermost shrine with flutes, tambourines and hymns, hold a feast, and take it back down to its place underground. And when you ask them what this mystery means, they reply that today, at this hour Kore—that is, the Virgin—gave birth to Aion.
Epiphanius, Panarion, 22,9
Isis-Kore/Persephone, from Heraklion, Crete
Some scholars believe that the Alexandrian Kore or Virgin was Isis (some ancient Egyptian Hymns call Isis “virgin;” in the Hermetic text, Kore Kosmou, Isis is likely the “Cosmic Virgin” of the title) and that the “crosses” on Her limbs may have been ankhs. Could be, but doesn’t have to be; Alexandria was, after all, a polytheistic city. Epiphanius goes on to mention other identical and, in his mind, deceitful festivals in Petra and in Elusa celebrating the birth of the “only son of the Lord” of a Virgin Goddess. In Petra, the Holy Child is Dusares, an Arabian God identified with Dionysos, Who was, in turn, identified with Helios, the sun. (Epiphanius, Panarion, 22,11)
Those of you who have been following along with this blog may recall that the famous Roman Calendar of Philocalus (354 CE)* lists a festival called The Isia from October 28 through November 1.**
Much earlier, in the 1st century BCE, the Greek mathematician and astronomer Germinos noted that the Greeks believe that the Isia—which was derived from the ancient Egyptian Khoiak festival—occurs at the winter solstice. (The Khoiak festival celebrated the death of Osiris and His finding, lamentation, and resurrection by Isis.) Germinos says that that was true 120 years ago, but that, in his time, it had shifted a month earlier. The modern Kemetic Orthodox religion celebrates the Khoiak Festival in late November; so just about now.
Isis and the pharaoh raise the Djed pillar, the symbol of the resurrection of Osiris, as part of the Khoiak festival
However, here at the 45th parallel, we are happily privy to a calendar Mystery. The ancient Khoiak Festival took place in the fourth month of Inundation, which began on the Egyptian New Year. As you likely know, the New Year was heralded by the heliacal rising of Sirius, the Star of Isis. The festival took place over a period of many days, culminating at the end of the fourth month with the resurrection of Osiris.
Here in Portland, the Star of Isis rose this year on August 23. Four 30-day Egyptian months from that date is December 21, the winter solstice. So if you were here in Portland with me, we could celebrate the Isia on the days leading up to and ending with the winter solstice.
Yet, as fabulous as that is, it’s still not December 25th, is it?
Well, as it turns out, the answer to this little puzzle is not all that mysterious after all.
You see, the Roman calendar went through a certain amount of upheaval and—bottom line—December 25th was considered the “traditional” date of the winter solstice, even if that was off from astronomical solstice. (If you want to calendar geek on that, check this out or this.) From a number of ancient sources, including Epiphanius, we have that “the eighth before the kalends of January” was considered to be the winter solstice. (Epiphanius, Panarion, 22,3) Because of the inclusive way the Romans counted, this “eighth before the kalends” was December 25th. (In the Roman calendar, the kalends is the first day of the month.)
What’s more, the early Christians who chose that date, chose it precisely because it was the winter solstice and was connected to the return of the light. In a work attributed, perhaps falsely, to the 4th century Christian church father John Chrysostom, the writer connects the birth of Jesus with the birth of Sol Invictus, the Unconquerable Sun, which was celebrated on Rome’s traditional winter solstice, December 25th:
But Our Lord, too, is born in the month of December . . . the eighth before the kalends of January [25 December] . . ., But they call it the “Birthday of the Unconquered.” Who indeed is so unconquered as Our Lord? Or, if they say that it is the birthday of the sun, He is the Sun of Justice.
Chrysostom, De Solstitia et Aequinoctia Conceptionis et Nativitatis Nostri Iesu Christi et Iohannis Baptistae; “On the conceptions and births of our Jesus Christ and John the Baptist on the solstices and equinoxes.”
On this protective amulet, Isis & Nephthys guard the shining solar child, Horus.
Another interesting thing about the choice of December 25th is that—even just those few days after the astronomical solstice—you can begin to see that the light is indeed returning. Some scholars have suggested that the December 25th date for the solstice reflects this perceivable change, so that even though the exact moment of astronomical solstice is prior to the 25th, it becomes noticeable about the 25th.
So there we have it. There actually IS reason to connect the winter solstice birth date of Isis’ Holy Child, Horus, with the traditional December 25th birth date of Mary’s Holy Child, Jesus.
Should we claim that early Christians “stole” the birthdate of Horus (or any of the other solar Gods Who always were and always will be born on the winter solstice)? Nah, let’s not. In fact, it makes perfect sense to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the bringer of the light of Christianity to its believers, at that time of year when the light of the sun begins its return to the world. It is an excellent symbol and early Christians would have been silly to ignore it.
Artist Alex Grey’s mesmerizing Cosmic Christ
Of course early Christianity was influenced by the many religions around it. And remember that much early Christian development was in Alexandria, Egypt. For early Christians, as for ancient Egyptians—and indeed for modern people as well—the return of the light at the winter solstice is at once an uplifting environmental fact and a hopeful spiritual symbol.
And so, as we begin the count down in the waning days of the year, I wish you all Many Happy Returns of the Light as we celebrate the upcoming holy days of December 21st and December 25th.
*The reason Philocalus’ calendar is so famous, is that it contains the oldest reference to a regular celebration of the birth of the Christos. The calendar notes: “Eighth day before the kalends of January, Birth of Christ in Bethlehem of Judea.” Earlier, one of the Church fathers, Cyprian (200-258CE), commented how very, very providential it was the when the sun was born, so was Christ.
**If we go by Philocalus, that late October-early November date for the Isia, with its emphasis on death, lamentation, and renewal, makes a perfect option for our own Samhaim/Halloween celebrations.
This scene is from a Roman tomb; some think it may be a scene from the Navigium Isidis, though I see no ship…
As one of the most important Goddesses of the ancient seaport of Alexandria, Isis was closely associated with the sea. In that Greco-Egyptian city, She was known by the Greek epithet Pelagia, “of the sea.”
Across the Mediterranean from Alexandria, Roman Isiacs celebrated the festival of the launching of the ship of Isis, the Navigium Isidis, which marked the opening of the shipping season on the sea. It’s the festival described by Apuleius in his ostensibly fictional account of initiation into Isis’ Mysteries in The Golden Ass.
This fresco, from the Temple of Isis in Pompeii, shows a mythic rendering of the Navigium. In the center, we see Isis in the boat on the right as She brings the floating (sarcophagus?) of Osiris with Her.
There is another epithet of Isis that connects Her with the sea, shipping, sailing, and the wind necessary for it. It is Pharia.
As Pharia, Isis is connected with the great lighthouse of Alexandria, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and a famous symbol of the city of Alexandria. The lighthouse was called the Pharos after the small island on which it stood. Due to the lighthouse’s fame, pharos eventually became a general term for “lighthouse.” (This persists even in modern languages; in Italian and Spanish, lighthouse is faro and in French, it is phare.)
Isis Pharia with Her sail and the lighthouse on the right on an Alexandrian coin
Isis Pharia is Isis the Lighthouse Goddess. Alexandrian coins frequently represented the Goddess and the Pharos together.
Roman inscriptions attest to the existence of an Isis temple or shrine on the island, very close to the lighthouse itself. Between 1994 and 1998, archeological divers in the bay of Alexandria discovered a huge, red-granite torso of a woman, the base of an Isis statue, pieces of the Pharos itself, as well as the remains of a rock-cut temple that may very well be part of the temple of Isis Pharia.
An artist’s vision of the Pharos lighthouse of Alexandria (Lighthouse by Lee Krystek)
There are several legends about how the Pharos island got its name. One says that when Menelaus was returning from the Trojan War, his ship was blown off course and landed on the island. Not knowing where he was, he asked the first Egyptian he saw. The man responded, “Per Aoh,” meaning that the island belonged to the pharaoh. (Pharaoh is the Greek corruption of an Egyptian term for king, Per Aoh, which means “Great House.”) Menelaus heard it as “pharos.”
Another story derives the name from that of Menelaus’ helmsman, Phrontis, who died on the island. In Greek, the word pharos refers to a cloth or sail. In accordance with this punning meaning, images of Isis Pharia show Her with a billowing sail in one hand while Her cloak is blown backwards over Her shoulder and the famous lighthouse stands in the background.
An Isis priest carrying the Osiris Hydreios, shaped like a canopic jar, underwater in the bay of Alexandria
In late legend, Isis was said to have invented the sail while searching for Her son, Horus. The early Christian writer Tertullian, writing against the Pagan religions, says that Pharia’s name “shows her to have been the king’s daughter,” (as opposed to being a true Goddess, of course). Tertullian is surely interpreting Pharia as a feminized version of pharaoh.
Just as the illumination of the Pharos lighthouse turned Alexandria’s dangerous seas and tricky harbors into commerce-friendly ports, the spiritual light of the Lighthouse Goddess serves as a guide for humankind. Isis Pharia is the guardian of navigation and safe harbors—of ships and of souls.
I don’t have to tell you that we are living in divided times. I don’t have to tell you that we are living in intolerant times. I don’t even have to tell you that many people today think tolerance—political or religious—is a bad thing. Yet in my stubborn heart, I still believe it’s a virtue. Especially in a religious context, and even knowing all its attendant problems.
Yes. Religious tolerance is hard.
And it always has been. Even in a polytheistic world where people were used to dealing with a variety of religious expressions.
For instance, Greek comic playwrights often made fun of the religious practices of Egyptians, usually focusing on their reverence for animals as manifestations of the Divine. This 4th-century-BCE bit by Anaxandrides of Rhodes, who won many awards for his work, is an example. He writes as Demos (“the people”) to Egypt:
I couldn’t have myself allied with you. Our ways and customs differing as they do. I sacrifice to Gods; to bulls you kneel. Your greatest God’s our greatest treat: the eel. You don’t eat pork; it’s quite my favorite meat. You worship your dog, mine I always beat when he’s caught stealing. Priests stay whole with us; with you they’re gelded eunuchs. If poor puss appears in pain, you weep; I kill and skin her. To me, the mouse is nought, you see ‘power’ in her.
Some Egyptians, on the other hand, considered Greeks whipper-snapper-know-nothings when it came to religion and declared that anything that came out of a Greek mouth was just a lot of hot air.
Mummy portraits from Egypt’s Fayoum, an area where Greeks and Egyptians mixed freely and intermarried.
Religious tolerance is hard precisely because our religion, our Deity or Deities, our practices, our beliefs and experiences are so close to our hearts. In many cases, they are cherished building blocks of our lives. If religion is central to our lives, it is also likely to be central to our self-definition. If someone attacks (or, in some cases, even questions) our religion, it seems they are attacking our core self. That not only hurts on a feeling level, it actually seems life-threatening. The chest tightens as the heart speeds up. Nerves jangle. The belly feels sick. Fight-or-flight kicks in—and we often find ourselves coming down on the side of fight. I know I’ve been there, too.
A painting on a funeral cloth from Saqqara Egypt, 180 CE
Yet, as far as I know, no wars were fought over Greek and Egyptian religious differences. The grandfather of Lycurgus (an Athenian politician from 338-326 BCE) may have been influential in bringing the Egyptian religion of Isis to Athens. Apparently his grandson suffered no discrimination on account of his family’s connection with Egyptian cult—apart from the jabs of the comics. Ancient priestesses and priests often simultaneously served very different Deities without betraying any of Them. The historian Herodotus was able to casually say that Isis “is called Demeter by the Greeks.”
That kind of syncretism, which happened to an astonishing degree with Isis, is one of the ways the ancient religion of Isis modeled religious tolerance. It wasn’t a matter of my-Goddess-is-better-than-your-Goddess; it was a translation of the Goddess from one culture to another. In the bustling world of the Mediterranean, people were used to translating languages. Why not translate Deities? And so they did. And so Isis became known as Isis Myrionymos, Isis of the Myriad Names. In Isis, with Her uncountable number of names, people could see THE Goddess—in all Her many expressions. Isiacism also modeled social tolerance in its acceptance of both women and men, rich and poor, slave and free. In late Isiacism, there was even a tradition of the freeing of slaves through a “sale” to Isis and Sarapis. Freedom and tolerance go hand-in-hand.
I like this a lot
The modern Fellowship of Isis maintains this type of wide-open religious tolerance. All one must do is to be able to accept the organization’s Manifesto to become a member. To some, this tolerance may seem too chaotic, too accepting; yet it has enabled this modern group to survive for many years, even as it has suffered through the types of internal struggles to which all groups seem inevitably subject.
But how can we maintain the virtue of tolerance when faced with intolerance from others? What do we do when accused of “devil worship,” like the Isis devotees who were accused by some early Christians in Alexandria of worshipping “a dark, Egyptian devil?” How do we handle the current intolerance-based horrors throughout the world? Or, on a much less deadly, but often quite hurtful level, how do we navigate the Neopagan community’s current growing pains as groups of people seek to differentiate themselves from (though I would hope within) the greater community? I’ve been quite surprised at the lack of tolerance I’ve seen in some of these discussions. But I guess it gets back to that close-to-the-heart thing.
Oh, how I wish I had an answer.
Friends and I sometimes play a game in which we choose one thing to change about the world and discuss the implications of that change. True religious tolerance is the magical change of heart that I often wish upon the world. By no means would it solve the world’s problems (poverty, war), but it might just give us enough space to get our heads out of our asses above water long enough that we could at least start to solve them.
Religious tolerance isn’t easy. In some cases, it doesn’t even seem possible. But that doesn’t mean we give up. We take some deep breaths. We remember that Isis lives. We explain it; again. Sometimes we walk away from an un-winnable argument. And in the political part of our lives, we work for civil justice.
