Oh yes, Isis is Lady of Wine and Beer. And yes, Osiris is Lord of Wine. And yes, Isis’ Philae temple owned vineyards. (Indeed many ancient Egyptian temples had their own vineyards, producing both white and red wines.)
But today…today, it’s harvest time at the Hallows in our backyard vineyard. And we, along with a glorious gaggle of all our beloved friends, are picking and crushing the Syrah grapes from our backyard arbor. We are feasting and dancing and gathering around the fire.
We are making wine.
We are making wine in honor of the Hallows’ other household God: Dionysos, Lord the the Vine and Bringer of Ecstasy. And so, right now, I am busy testing the grape must and measuring the sugars and adding the yeasts and feeding the ever-so-magical tiny transformers of juice into wine. I am up to my ears in hydrometers today. So, instead of a long post, I shall share with you some Bakchic inspiration.
From our Divinely mad harvest to yours—may all your harvests be rich, in this season and every season.
As you might guess, I’m always on the lookout for articles about Isis. Recently, I came across a Master’s thesis that—while it didn’t tell me much new—did remind me of the charming Isis temple in Pompeii, which is the only Italian Isis temple left standing today. I had a chance to visit it, lo those many years ago now. So I thought I’d tell you a bit about Her temple there.
One thing we know about Pompeii is that, in a city of about 20,000, about 10% of the population considered themselves Isiacs. So about 2,000 Isiacs were in Pompeii at the time it was buried in volcanic ash. Assuming you didn’t have to get them all in the sanctuary at one time (the temple grounds are not huge), that would have worked pretty well. Out of a group of about 2,000 Pagans, how many of them would actually show up for the rituals at any given time? About as many as would fit in that modest temple…a hundred, maybe 200 at most.
Temple fresco with Isis and Serapis, and Isis in Her boat
But being buried in volcanic ash wasn’t the first blow suffered by that lovely temple. Pompeii had ALSO had a recent earthquake, in 62 CE, with the Vesuvial eruption following in 79 CE. The earthquake had rattled down a lot of Pompeiian structures. In fact, one of the reasons that the Isis Temple was so well preserved (it is considered the most well preserved building in Pompeii) was that it had been rebuilt following the earthquake…and not all the other public buildings had.
Numerius’ dedication of the temple in the name of his son
A wealthy Pompeiian, Numerius Popidius Ampliatus, had had the temple rebuilt in the name of his six-year-old son, Numerius Popidius Celsinus, so that Numerius Junior would have a free ride to the Senate. (Politics never change.) But what’s of interest to us is not the political machinations of Dad Numerius, but the fact that rebuilding the Isis temple would have conferred that much status. Clearly, Isis was popular; connections with Her and the support of Her religion were politically expedient.
One of the amazing frescoes unearthed at the temple
The temple was located behind the city’s main theatre building, which emphasizes the close relationship between Isis and the God of the Theatre, Dionysos or Bacchus. Dionysos was identified with Osiris; and so, He was a natural partner for Isis. In fact, a sacred image of Dionysos, along with His requisite panther, was located in a special niche on the backside of the main Isis shrine.
On either side of the Dionysos image was a pair of large, stuccoed ears. The existence of these ears shows a direct connection between the Italian temple and Egyptian tradition. Egyptian temples often had God-sized ears carved on the back of the temple, just behind the innermost shrine. The common folk, who could not enter the holy of holies, could—by virtue of these Divine ears—speak directly to the Goddess or God of the temple. A hole drilled through the back of the temple, and a priest or priestess on the other side, served to transmit the concerns of the suppliant to the Deity. No doubt the same thing was intended in Pompeii.
This next photo is the main shrine, the naos and pronaos, of the Isis temple. The sacred images of Isis and Osiris would have stood here.
There was a mosaic floor in this area, which has now been lost. Lost where? I don’t know. Perhaps stolen from the site. On either side of the main entrance (the central opening you see here), were two niches, perhaps intended for images of Anubis and Harpocrates, to Whom two altars within the sanctuary were dedicated.
The small building where the sacred water for the Isis rites was kept
The low structure on the left is the main altar; the remains of a sacrificial fire and burnt offerings were found there.
Just to the left of the main altar is a small building where they kept the sacred water for purification. Likely, this would have been Nile water. Roman satirists mocked female Isis devotees for making pilgrimage to Egypt to bring back the sacred waters of the Nile. (We cannot be sure whether the satirists were more interested in mocking Isiacs or women by such statements, but either way, nice, huh?) The sacred water was kept in an underground chamber.
You can see a little way into the building, which is about the size of one of those pre-fab garden sheds. The main altar is on the right, in front of the building.
The thing we can’t really imagine from any of these pictures is how the living temple would have looked. Paintings covered most all the walls; colorful mosaics decorated both walls and floors; shaven-headed priests and veiled priestesses moved to and fro in service to the Goddess.
This one isn’t from Pompeii, but from Herculaneum; you can see that they were indeed trying to keep the “Egyptian” in temples of Egyptian Deities
Behind the main shrine, there was a large-ish room in which, I subsequently learned, the initiates of Isis met. I didn’t take a picture of it because the site really didn’t look like anything much. But that was because they took all the good stuff to the museum. The walls had been covered with images evocative of Egypt. Near the entrance, archeologists found a beautiful marble head of Isis. The body of the image was of wood and was dressed in garments of real fabric and would have been cared for on a daily basis by the temple personnel.
This is not that image. But it IS one of the statues rescued from the temple. I didn’t get to see it in person because the Naples Museum had that wing of the museum closed the day we were there. Dang. From what I’m reading, it looks like they may have made a replica and put it in place in the sanctuary. I hope so. Let me know if you’ve seen it.
At any rate, this is one of my favorite non-Egyptian Isis images, and I leave you with Her graceful Self:
For He is my other Divine love. And here at The Hallows, today is the day we celebrate His harvest.
It is October and the vineyard smells sweet—too sweet—and oh so ripe. Amber and scarlet is just beginning to blaze in the leaves of trees. The decayed-honey scent of fallen foliage is in the air. Sugar-dusted grape clusters dangle from the vines in our grape arbor. At the time when night just outweighs day and the world has entered its slow roll toward the darkness, the empurpled grapes are finally ready for harvest.
All of our Pagan beloved ones—Bacchants for a day—ply their sweet labor among our vines. Oh yes, we shall make wine.
Our Wine Mistress, Priestess of the Hydrometer, fusses. The children giggle as they rip grapes from the stem, toss them into the barrel (and at each other), and run screaming around the yard in a fine, Bacchic frenzy. The adults drink last year’s vintage as they work. They joke and gossip with each other. Then, we begin The Crush. As the grapes are stomped into juice beneath our purified, bare feet, we sing. We invoke Dionysos, the God of the Vine, the Bull-Horned One, the Mad, Honey-Sweet God of Divine Intoxication.
As we crush His purple flesh, our song is as sad and sweet as October itself. Once all have danced upon the grapes, we strain the fresh juice into the “must bucket.” There, the God’s holy blood will ferment into His own Divine wine, making our kitchen smell like grape-y bread for two delicious, heady weeks.
But tonight…tonight, when the grapes have just been picked and crushed and the juice secreted away in the must bucket, we shall dance. We shall dance, entranced—drums thundering—in the sweet thrall of the God, breathing the breath of the Wine Muses and loving, loving, loving the mad, human beauty of every single one of our friends.
A worshipper giving worship and receiving energy that looks like flowers from the God
Some time ago, I was corresponding with a man in England on Dionysian subjects. (You may recall that, in addition to my devotion to Isis, I also have a passion for Lord D.) During the course of our conversation, I said something about worshipping Dionysos. He wrote me back to the effect of “you wouldn’t catch me worshipping anybody or anything!”
I suspected we had a definition problem—and that turned out to be so, because when I explained that what I meant by worship was an expression of love, appreciation, and honor toward the Divine, my Dionysian pal wrote back saying he’d decided that, in that case, he guessed worship was okay with him.
Always good advice
I think a lot of people share my friend’s ideas about worship. The word is too…um… “churchy.” For many, it has come to have a hollow sound and worse yet, a hollow feeling. Some associate it with merely going through the motions—attending church, sitting in rows, singing ill-harmonized hymns, and eventually passing the collection plate. Others may associate worship with bowing before some cold and distant deity. (I am inevitably reminded, and perhaps you are, too, of Monty Python’s toadying minister: “Oh God, You are so gosh-darned BIG…”) Such prostration appears to them to have no respect for the sacred possibilities of either humankind or Nature and leaves an unpleasant taste in their mouths.
Kissing the ground before Her beautiful face
Yet worship is one of the most significant ways we can relate to the Goddess. It is certainly an appropriate way for a ministrant of Isis to relate to Her.
True worship has to do with reverence and appreciation for the Divine, as well as for that which is sacred in others, in ourselves, and in the manifested world. Worship is a meaningful way of expressing our feelings and inner selves to the Divine. It is a way of speaking about and participating in that which we find sacred. Worship requires participation not by the mere rote actions of our bodies, but by the focus of our minds, the openness of our hearts, and the willingness of our souls and spirits.
Two worshippers adore the God
When we sense Isis’ heartbeat and understand that She senses ours, we are participating in worship. When we finally, actually know, in our bones, in our guts, in our hearts that She really is there, the door to worship is flung wide. The temple of our soul is opened, and She indwells. When we taste Her truth upon our tongues, and are grateful, grateful, grateful for that taste, then we worship. When Her Mystery allures and deepens us rather than merely baffling, that is worship. When we know Her in the light in our lover’s eyes, a blade of grass, a spider’s dance, we are worshiping.
We may do this intuitively or, using the Art of Ritual, we may speak to Isis, sing to Her, listen to Her, make offerings to Her, express our gratitude to Her, commune with Her in a ritual context. When we do this consciously and with full intent to expand our souls and spirits, it is then that we truly worship. As we come to know Isis through our acts of devotion, we come to love Her and to understand that She has always loved us.
The fiery heart of true worship
And love…love is the true essence of the worship that a ministrant of Isis gives to their Goddess.
I missed posting the last couple of weeks. Life, the Universe, Everything…and the Fall EQ Festival. This year was dedicated to one of my two Beloved Ones, Dionysos, so I had to be there. It was a very fine Festival and Divine Madness was had by all. Anyway, in His honor, and Hers, I’d like to show you how, in antiquity, these two Divine Ones came together…as They do even today in my heart.
Now, at first glance, the Greek God of Ecstatic Intoxication & Wine doesn’t seem to have much to do with our Egyptian Lady of Magic & Power, Isis. After all, He’s the Sex, Drugs & Rock-n-Roll God and She’s, well, She’s a bit more serious.
Ah, but wait. All is not as it seems. (All is almost never as it seems.) There are, in fact, quite solid connections between my two Divine Ones. In ancient times, you see, Dionysos was identified with Osiris, the Beloved of Isis. More on that in a moment.
First, I’d like to tell you how Dionysos came into my personal spiritual picture.
I had been vowed to Isis for many years, but long had felt the need to see the Divine with a masculine face as well as a feminine one. Naturally, the first place I looked was to Osiris. So I meditated with Him, I did ritual with Him, I thought and pondered on Him. I found Him wonderful and powerful and beautiful. But He didn’t grab my soul and shout, “Mine!” Or even whisper it. Or anything. The relationship just wasn’t…quite…right.
Fast forward a few years. A friend had been called to resurrect the Oracle of Delphi (or Oracle of Portland, if you want to be a stickler about it) and had enlisted a group of friends to help take the ritual roles. We worked the Oracle once a summer for six or seven years, I think. During that time, I played a variety of ritual roles, from Pythia to serving priestess. Sometime during the process, I decided I wanted to play Dionysos. No reason a woman couldn’t play this androgynous God!
A thyad, entranced
And there wasn’t. And that is how Dionysos first got His panther claws into me. And I wasn’t the only one. My own beloved husband had also played Dionysos, with the same result. Others in that ritual cast soon found themselves called to Bakchic frenzy and we created a thiasos, a Greek name for a spiritual group or circle. The Meliophis thiasos still survives today, along with another group spawned from it.
So that’s how Dionysos claimed one Isis priestess. But perhaps that’s not so unusual. You may recall that Plutarch wrote his essay “On Isis and Osiris” to a priestess friend of his, Clea or Klea. He writes to her about Isis and Osiris for Klea is a priestess of Isis. She is also the leader of the thyades at Delphi. Thyad is another name for maenad, the Divinely mad priestesses of Dionysos. So Plutarch’s friend, Klea, is both a devotee of Isis and of Dionysos. Plutarch writes to her:
“That Osiris is identical with Dionysus who could more fittingly know than yourself, Clea? For you are at the head of the inspired maidens of Delphi, and have been consecrated by your father and mother in the holy rites of Osiris.”
So at least by Plutarch’s time, the identification of Dionysos with Osiris is so complete that the priest can say They are “identical” and know that his confidant will find it readily apparent.
See? Osiris, Lord of Wine—even today!
Plutarch goes on to note that the procession for the Apis bull looks very much like a Dionysian procession, thus both Osiris and Dionysos are Gods connected with the bull. Both Gods are torn to pieces—Dionysos by the Titans and Osiris by Set. Both Gods are resurrected afterwards; Dionysos by being born again of Semele and Osiris by being magically born again after Isis reassembles Him. Both Gods are Lords of Moisture, both are associated with trees. One of the sacred plants of Dionysos, ivy, is called by the Egyptians, “the plant of Osiris.”
Read Plutarch for yourself and you’ll see that he goes on at some length about the Dionysos-Osiris connection. Including the wine connection, of course.
Osiris is known as Lord of Wine as early as the Pyramid Texts and His identity as such only grew as time passed. In a magical papyrus from the second century CE, the “blood of Osiris,” clearly wine, is poured into a wine cup, and is to be given to a woman as part of an erotic spell:
“Give it, the blood of Osiris, that he gave to Isis to make her feel love in her heart for him night and day at any time, there not being time of deficiency.”
No doubt, the association of Osiris with wine is the reason that one story tells us that Isis became pregnant with Horus by eating grapes. Isis Herself is also given the epithet Mistress of Wine and Beer.
The sacred image of Dionysos from the Temple of Isis in Pompeii.
In addition to Her marriage to the Lord of Wine, Isis has Her own associations with the vine and with Dionysos. The Greeks considered the sacred star of Isis, Sirius, to be the bringer of wine since its late-summer rising coincided with the beginning of the grape harvest season. Ancient writers also speculated on a variety of Isis-Dionysos connections. One said that Dionysos is the son of Zeus and Isis. Another called Isis the daughter of Prometheus and said that She lived with Dionysos. Herodotus recorded the tradition that Apollo and Artemis are the children of Dionysos and Isis. The Ptolemaic rulers Auletes and his daughter, Cleopatra VII, identified themselves with Dionysos and Isis respectively, calling themselves “the new Dionysos” and “the new Isis.” In the Temple of Isis in Pompeii, sacred images of both Isis and Dionysos stood before the worshippers. And, of course, both Isis and Dionysos are Mystery Deities for both have suffered and so can have sympathy for human beings in our individual sufferings.
And so you see, the connection between Isis and Dionysos is not so far-fetched after all. May you indeed be blessed by Her magic and Divinely entranced in His ecstasy.
I’m taking this weekend off from the blog, for this weekend there is a festival at our house: the Hallows Grape Stomp & Bacchanalia. And so I offer these thoughts on the harvest, early this year, as we have had a very hot summer.
Today I serve not Isis, but Dionysos. For He is my other Divine love. And today we celebrate His harvest…
It is sweet, sad September. Amber and scarlet just beginning on the leaves of trees. The decayed-honey scent of fallen foliage. Sugar-dusted grape clusters dangling from the vines in our grape arbor. In this golden month, at the time when day equals night and the world enters its slow roll toward the darkness, the empurpled grapes are finally ready for harvest.
All of our Pagan beloved ones—Bacchants for a day—ply their sweet labor among our vines. Oh yes, we shall make wine.
Our Virgo Wine Mistress, Priestess of the Hydrometer, fusses. The children giggle as they rip grapes from the stem, toss them into the barrel (and at each other), and run screaming around the yard in a fine, Bacchic frenzy. The adults drink last year’s vintage as they work. They joke and gossip with each other. Then, we begin The Crush. As the grapes are stomped into juice beneath our purified, bare feet, we sing. We invoke Dionysos, the God of the Vine, the Bull-Horned One, the Mad, Honey-Sweet God of Divine Intoxication.
As we crush His purple flesh, our song is as sad and sweet as September itself. Once all have danced upon the grapes, we strain the fresh juice into the “must bucket.” There, the God’s holy blood will ferment into His own Divine wine, making our kitchen smell like grape-y bread for two delicious, heady weeks.
But tonight…tonight, the grapes have just been picked and crushed and the juice secreted away in the must bucket; and so, we dance. We dance, entranced—drums thundering—in the sweet thrall of the God, breathing the breath of the Wine Muses and loving, loving, loving the mad, human beauty of every single one of our friends.
