Category Archives: Isis

Sexuality, Sacred Sexuality & Isis Part 2

A Romano-Egyptian vessel in the form of Isis-Aphrodite, saying "hello." — A Romano-Egyptian vessel in the form of Isis-Aphrodite

Last time we saw that there is no evidence for temple prostitution in ancient Egypt. Yet we still find writers (usually well-meaning ones discussing sacred sexuality) who tell us that Isis spent ten years as a prostitute in Tyre, that She was beloved by prostitutes, and that Her temples were located near brothels and were reputed to be good places to meet prostitutes.

Where does all that come from?

Well, this is definitely one of those “consider the source” situations.

The bit about prostitution in Tyre is from Epiphanius, a 4th century CE Christian bishop writing against what he sees as heresies. He complains about the sister-brother marriage of Isis and Osiris then launches into the prostitution accusation. There’s no other evidence of this story circulating at the time. He may have made it up. He may have confused Isis with Astarte or even with Simon Magus’ muse Helena, who was a prostitute in Tyre (before being recognized as the Thought of God and the reincarnation of Helen of Troy and rescued by the magician; but that’s a whole other story).

The “tradition” connecting Isis with prostitutes and prostitution comes from a couple of sources; both worthy of clear-eyed consideration (see above). Cyril, Christian bishop of Alexandria in the 5th century CE wrote that “the Egyptians,” especially the women (!!!), when they were made initiates of the religion of Isis “are deemed worthy of honor—therefore of wantonness.” (On Adoration in Spirit and Truth, 9) But before him, a number of Roman poets and satirists made such claims in relation to devotion to Isis. Her temples were supposed to be great places to meet loose women. And then there was the famous Isiac scandal, told by the Jewish historian Josephus, in which a Roman matron was supposedly tricked into going to the Temple of Isis so that “Anubis” could sleep with her.

Isis-Aphrodite, a Roman bronze from the 1st or 2nd century CE

When you look more closely into these accusations and put them in context, you see that the poets complained not only of temples of Isis, but of anywhere in Rome where women either gathered (the temples of a wide variety of Goddesses as well as just about any public space, for instance) or went to protect their interests (such as courts of law). If women are allowed to run around loose, lewdness is sure to follow.

It’s pure misogyny, folks. (One of these poets, the appropriately named Juvenal, wrote a poem called Against Women, in case I have not already made myself sufficiently clear.)

Without seeing the irony, several of these poets would write about sexual immorality and the temples of Isis, then turn around and complain when their mistresses would abstain from sex for a period of ten days as part of their devotion to Isis. (This period of abstention was known as the Castimonium Isidis or “Chastity of Isis.” Surely it was intended as a purification prior to some important Isiac rite.)

In fact, we have far more evidence for morality and chastity among Roman Isiacs than we do for sexual promiscuity. I’m sure it happened. Humans. Sex. But it wasn’t part of the temple proceedings.

So now we know. But that was Rome, and rather late. What about Egypt?

We know there were exuberant religious celebrations that included drinking and dancing in Egypt. In the 5th century BCE, Herodotus notes a celebration for Bastet in which boats full of men and women traveled to Bubastis, laughing, singing, clapping, rattling (sistra?) and playing flutes, the women hurling ritual abuse at other women along the riverbank and some raising their skirts to expose themselves to the crowd. The historian notes that more wine was drunk during that festival than all the rest of the year. You know there was some drunken sex going on. Surely this was a festival meant to inspire fertility in the land and in the people. I’ll bet it did, too. Festivals of drunkenness were also celebrated for Hathor. And a recently discovered and translated papyrus, dating back 1900 years, appears to be a fictional story about a devotee of Mut who seduces someone into joining the sexy, drunken festivities for that Goddess.

Isis as the kite settled on the phallus of Osiris, from Abydos

I’m not aware of a festival of drunkenness for Isis. The emotionalism associated with Her cult is the sorrow of lamentation—and eventually the joy of reunion with the Beloved. But there is good reason to think of Isis and sex. After all, She is one of the Deities to Whom one prayed for children; and naturally, one must take physical-world action along with one’s prayers. Furthermore, the story of Isis and Osiris has at its heart a sexual coupling. The Goddess magically resurrects Her husband in order that They may make love one last time and so conceive Their child, Horus.

A very unusual 2002 find at Osiris’ temple at Abydos may provide some information. It appears to be a votive offering and shows a woman and man having intercourse. Unlike most Egyptian representations of sex, it is neither crude nor satirical. The man is particularly well endowed, and in contrast to most male-female depictions, the woman is shown larger than the man. Because of the fragmentary nature of the carving, we can’t be sure what sexual position is intended, but it may be that she is straddling him. If so, then perhaps this is because she is intended to be in the Isis (or Nuet) position of woman-on-top.

A clearer picture of the same; Isis comes to make love and bring life to Osiris

Best guess is that it was a votive offering to promote fertility, even though such offerings were usually in the form of a phallus or a “fertility figure” (such as one of the big-haired wasp-waisted “paddle” dolls). There was a separate shrine of Isis at Abydos, but archeologists studying the votive have suggested that there might have also been an Isis shrine in the Osiris temple itself and thus the sexual votive would be even more appropriate. Sex is crucial to Isis and Osiris as well as to the Egyptian dead. Sex is part of the magic of renewal and rebirth. It is the magic Isis works with Osiris. It is the magic the Goddess in Her many names works for the dead. (See my post on Isis as a sexy Goddess here.)

In the early days of my relationship with Isis, one of the things She asked of me was that my lovemaking be given in Her name. Now, it could be that the researchers’ guess is correct and that the votive was an offering made to ask for fertility. But perhaps this unusual and somehow poignant votive offering was an expression of the same sort of thing that Isis asked of me so long ago. Perhaps it is a reminder that lovemaking is sacred, that it is a vital part of Isis’ magic of renewal, and that we should honor it as She does.

Sexuality, Sacred Sexuality & Isis; Part I

Egyptians...having sex! — Egyptians…having sex!

Today’s repost is inspired by a Facebook friend’s question about Isis and sex. So let’s dive into that a little bit. We can use having just passed Valentine’s Day and approaching spring—when all things, including love, bloom once more—as an excuse. As if we need one.

If you’ve ever looked into the topic of ancient Egyptian sexuality, you’ll know that they were pretty comfortable with sexuality. Sex was part of the great cycle of creation, life, death, and rebirth. You’ve no doubt read some of the famous ancient Egyptian love poetry with passionate lines like these:

“Your love has penetrated all within me, like honey plunged into water.” “To hear your voice is pomegranate wine to me—I draw life from hearing it.”

As well as some that are an appreciation of the sheer physical beauty of the beloved:

Of course the lotus was a symbol of sexuality — Yes, of course the lotus was a symbol of sexuality!

“Sister without rival, most beautiful of all, she looks like the star-goddess, rising at the start of the good New Year. Perfect and bright, shining skin, seductive in her eyes when she glances, sweet in her lips when she speaks, and never a word too many. Slender neck, shining body, her hair is true lapis, her arm gathers gold, her fingers are like lotus flowers, ample behind, tight waist, her thighs extend her beauty, shapely in stride when she steps on the earth.”

We have such poetic passion from the perspective of both the woman and the man. Before marriage, young men and women seem to have had freedom in their love affairs. After marriage, fidelity was expected, though it went much worse for the woman—including death—if she was caught in infidelity. The ancient Egyptians present a puzzling picture when it comes to homosexuality. On one hand, we have copies of the negative confession in which the (male) deceased declares that he has not had sex with a boy. Because he had to declare it, can we assume that some men were having sex with boys? That I do not know. The only reference to lesbianism comes from a dream-interpretation book in which it is bad omen for a woman to dream of being with another woman. And most references to man-on-man sex refer to the rape to which a victor may subject the vanquished enemy.

Royal servants and confidents of the king...and most likely, a gay couple. — Royal servants and confidents of the king…and most likely, a gay couple.

And yet we have two instances of what seems to indicate a consensual homosexual relationship that seem to be okay: King Neferkare goes off with his general and it is implied that they do so for sex. We also have the tomb of what used to be called The Two Brothers. More modern researchers have suggested that the men, who were royal servants and confidents, were a gay couple. This is based on their tomb paintings, which show them embracing each other or in placements usually reserved for a husband and wife. The men are shown with their children, but their wives, the mothers of the children, are very de-emphasized, almost to the point of being erased. Some scholars say, yes, they probably were a gay couple, other say no.

Yet I want to talk not about ancient Egyptian sexuality in general, but about sexuality and religion, and especially sexuality in relation to Isis.

Temple Prostitution? Nope.

First, let us put the whole “temple prostitutes” thing right out of our heads when it comes to Egypt. There is no evidence of the practice in Egypt. Yes, I know. It was very exciting for the old gentlemen to contemplate the ever-so-Pagan goings on in those richly colored temples in days of old. But it may not have been quite how the old gentlemen envisioned it. (Please see my kindly rant on the old gentlemen of Egyptology here.) In fact, the one specific reference comes from the Greek geographer and historian Strabo (64 or 63 BCE-24 CE). Here’s the passage in its Loeb 1930s translation:

“…but to Zeus, whom they hold highest in honor, they dedicate a maiden of greatest beauty and most illustrious family (such maidens are called ‘pallades’ by the Greeks); and she prostitutes [or “concubines,” pallakeue] herself, and cohabits [or “has sex” synestin] with whatever men she wishes until the natural cleansing of her body takes place; and after her cleansing she is given in marriage to a man; but before she is married, after the time of her prostitution, a rite of mourning is celebrated for her.” (Strabo, Geographies, 17.1.46)

Well, it’s right there, ain’t it? But let’s take another look. The keys are the Greek word pallades that Strabo says the Greeks called such maidens, its relation to another Greek word, pallakê, and how it was translated, and the old gentlemen who did the original translating.

Pallades means simply “young women” or “maidens.” As in Pallas Athena. Virginity is often implied, but it doesn’t have to be. Pallakê originally meant the same thing; a maiden. However, pallakê had long been translated as “concubine” due to contextual evidence in some non-Egyptian texts. A highly influential scholar of near eastern and biblical texts, William Mitchell Ramsay—one of our old gentlemen, indeed—took the term to mean “sacred prostitute” and so-translated it when he first published these non-Egyptian texts in 1883. He based the translation on his own belief in ancient sacred prostitution and two Strabo passages: one about Black Sea sacred prostitutes and the one about the pallades we’re discussing. Ramsay was so influential that his definition became the reigning one. THE Greek-English dictionary, by Liddell and Scott, had “concubine for ritual purposes” as the first definition of pallakê. Now it is the second one.

"Offering to Isis" by Sir Edward john Poynter, 1866; more like our young palladê? — “Offering to Isis” by Sir Edward John Poynter, 1866; more like our young *palladê* perhaps?

A non-sexualized translation of the Strabo passage has been made by Stephanie Budin in Prostitutes and Courtesans in the Ancient World, edited by Christopher Farone and Laura McClure. Here it is:

“But for Zeus [Amun], whom they honor most, a most beautiful maiden of most illustrious family serves as priestess, [girls] whom the Greeks call ‘pallades’; and she serves as a handmaiden and accompanies whomever (or attends whatever) she wishes until the natural cleansing of her body; and after her cleansing she is given to a man (or husband); but before she is given, a rite of mourning is celebrated for her after the time of her handmaiden service.”

Sounds quite different, doesn’t it? Would it not be more likely that a highborn girl who has not yet had her period would serve as a handmaiden in the temple, attending whatever rites she wishes—perhaps even getting an education—until she proves herself marriageable by having her first period, rather than expecting an inexperienced girl to immediately start having sex with “whomever she wishes”? (And who would that be in the temple; the priests who were supposed to abstain from sex during their temple service?) Even the “rite of mourning” is explicable as a kind of farewell to childhood that the young woman would celebrate with her fellow handmaidens and priestesses as she left the temple to take up her married life.

And besides, sex in an Egyptian temple was taboo. Even Herodotus knew of the prohibition against sex in Egyptian temples when he says that the Egyptians were the first to make it a matter of religion not to have sex in temples and to wash after having sex and before entering a temple. (Histories, 2.64)

Alternatively, Budin wonders whether Strabo might have been hearing stories about the Divine Adoratrice or God’s Wife of Amun, powerful and high-ranking priestesses of the centuries before Strabo’s visit. But at least in the later dynasties, these priestesses were celibate and tended to rule long past their first menstrual period.

Sacred Sexuality? Yep.

Well, I didn’t know I was going on so much of a tear today. It seems I have used up all of today’s time and space—and haven’t even gotten to Isis yet. So we’ll do that next time with more on sexuality in Egyptian religion…and we will indeed get to Isis.

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.

Why Does Isis Have Wings?

This is one of the most popular posts on this blog. It seems many of us have questions about Isis’ powerful and magical wings. Indeed, the wings of Isis are among Her most dynamic attributes. The widespread wings of the Goddess are the means by which She fans renewed life into Osiris. They are the protection spread out over the deceased in the tomb. Egyptian representations of Isis frequently show Her with wings attached to Her graceful human arms or embroidered into the fabric of the slim-fitting dress that wraps elegantly around Her body.

Keep me, Isis, in the shadow of Your wings.

So why does Isis have wings? The first and easiest answer is that Isis is a Bird Goddess. Her most important sacred animal is a bird of prey. The Goddess often takes the form of Her sacred raptor; the kestrel (the most common falcon in Egypt) or the black kite.

In Egyptian art, when Isis and Nephthys are not shown as women, They are shown in full bird-form or sometimes as woman-headed kites or kestrels sitting or hovering by the bier of Osiris. As birds, Isis and Nephthys mourn Osiris, screeching Their shrill bird cries to express Their sorrow. Even quite late, Isis and Nephthys were shown with wings attached to Their arms—which is the way we are most used to seeing Isis’ wings portrayed—or wearing a garment of stylized wings that wrap gracefully around Their bodies.

Kites were connected with funeral customs from at least the beginning of the Old Kingdom, if not earlier. Texts speak of a woman called The Kite who was the Pharaoh’s chief female funerary attendant. She was supposed to remove poisons from the deceased, magically purifying him. Soon there are two Kites—specifically identified as Isis and Nephthys in the Pyramid Texts. The Kites not only lamented and purified Osiris, but also were responsible for ferrying Him to the Otherworld. (It is not until the New Kingdom that we find illustrations of Isis and Nephthys as kestrels.)

Black kites are fairly large, dark-plumed birds (although they are more brown than deep black) that feed on both live prey and scavenge for carrion. They are sociable, intelligent, and aggressive birds—and would even attack wounded human beings. It may have been the bird’s fierceness that inspired one of the earliest Pharaohs to take the name Kite.

Isis is fierce in protecting both Osiris and Horus. Both Sisters are fierce in Their lamentations for the God. The black kite’s cry—a shrill, plaintive, screeching—may have sounded to the ancient Egyptians like wailing, lamenting women. It may have been that the ancients saw a correspondence between the kite’s scavenging for carrion and Isis’s scavenging for the scattered pieces of Her husband Osiris’ body in order to assemble them for renewal. Or perhaps in the cleverness of the black kite the Egyptians saw a reflection of the cleverness of the Goddess Isis as She tricked the enemy Set time and again.

Isis fans life into Osiris with Her wings

On a magical level, Isis’ wings are the means by which She fans renewed life into Osiris. Spread out over the deceased in the tomb, the Wings of Isis protect the dead. Many of those who have connected with Isis in ritual or meditation have known the feeling of Her wings being wrapped protectively about them. Beneath Isis’ wings, we are sheltered in this life and the next.

For human beings, wings have always exerted a strong fascination and engendered intense longing. We are in awe of the ability of winged creatures to fly under their own power. Even today when flight is available through mechanical means, many people still have “the flying dream.” In the dream, we fly on our own, our arms held out to our sides like huge wings, soaring like great, wild birds. Yet beyond physical flight, wings also commonly symbolize spiritual flight—ascent to the Heavens. And since feelings of rising, floating, or flying upwards can accompany spiritual experience, it is quite natural for cultures throughout the world to conceive of spirit beings—from angels to faeries—as winged.

In Egypt, a very ancient conception of the cosmos envisioned the Heavens as the enormous wings of the great falcon God Horus. These heavenly wings, attached to the disk of the Sun, were a common Egyptian protective motif. In fact, the image of the winged disk of Egypt was so powerful that other peoples, such as the Babylonians and the Hittites, adopted it. Some scholars believe that the beautiful Hebrew biblical phrase “the sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings” may have been inspired by the Egyptian symbol of the winged solar disk.

This protective aspect of the symbol of wings was key in Egyptian thought; so almost invariably, when you see the open wings of a Deity, the wings are intended to protect—and Isis is the protective Goddess par excellence.

Isis mourning with "to fold the wings" gesture — Isis mourning with “to fold the wings” gesture

Furthermore, the Egyptian word for “to fold the wings,” sekhen, also means to embrace. An Egyptian mourning posture mimicked the protective embrace of Osiris by Isis. And surely, it was Isis’ protecting, enfolding, winged arms that the Egyptian mother had in mind when she recited this protective charm for her child: “My arms are over this child—the arms of Isis are over him, as she put her arms over her son Horus.”

Nevertheless, the wings of Isis could also be aggressive, one text tells us that Isis “struck with Her wing” and closed the mouth of a river.

The open wings of Isis can also be related to a posture seen in images of the ancient Egyptian Bird Goddess. This is the posture of the famous Neolithic statuette of a so-called dancing woman with her arms raised in an open curve above her head, and which has become a popular amulet among modern Goddess worshippers. The same posture can be seen in the Goddess figures that ride in the curved boats that were a favorite theme of pre-dynastic Egyptian pottery and petroglyphs.

These statues are usually identified as Nile Goddesses, but she may be a dancing priestess with her arms upraised...perhaps in the Wings of Isis — The Bird Goddess or Her priestess with arms raised to indicate wings

According to Egyptologist Louis Breasted, the posture is typical of Egypt. And although these ancient figures do not have obvious wings, their unwinged but upraised arms foreshadow the winged, upraised arms of Goddesses seen in later Egyptian art. These beak-faced figures are often identified as Bird Goddesses, so perhaps the wings are implied—or they may indicate that the figures represent human priestesses who are imitating their Bird Goddess. Whatever the case, the “wing” stance is a posture of great antiquity and numenosity and many researchers consider it to be characteristic of the Divine Feminine.

If you wish to experiment with the power of Isis’ wings for yourself, try The Wings & Breath of Isis on page 268 of the new edition of Isis Magic.

Isis & the Re-enchantment of the World

Golden Isis by Jane Marin. You can buy a copy here.

As those of you who have been reading along know, I rarely comment on the ongoing discussions in the Pagan blogosphere. But this week, I am inspired by some current posts and commentary about the “re-enchantment of the world” over on Patheos Pagan and Witches and Pagans. I believe the discussion was started by John Beckett, whose work I often admire and who has written on this topic previously. Others added their own thoughts: Galina Krasskova: Re-Enchanting the World; Sara Amis: The World Isn’t Disenchanted. It’s You; Ivo Dominguez Jr.: Already Enchanted.

Yet the heart-cry for re-enchantment is not new. We human beings have long complained about the world’s disenchantment. German sociologist Max Weber famously decried it in the early 1900s and before him Freidrich Schiller in the early 1800s. No doubt the discussion goes back much farther than that, too.

The disenchanted Max Weber

I first read the term in the work of Thomas Moore, a psychotherapist, former monk, and spiritual writer. His books, Care of the Soul and The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life, were best sellers, which tells us that there are many of us longing to bring the enchantment back. As steps toward re-enchantment, Moore calls us to get away from our self-centeredness and experience the Other, to relinquish some of our literalism to become more poetic, to get out in nature, and to seek out Mystery.

The God Heka, “Magic”

The enchantment of everything—the magic in everything, the magic OF everything—is one of the things I most admire about [probably my personal fantasy of] ancient Egypt, as least as far as we understand it. I love Jeremy Nadler’s interpretation in his book, Temple of the Cosmos, when he writes about the “interpenetrating worlds” of the ancient Egyptians. Spiritual realities are immediate and present because the spiritual world interpenetrates the earthly: “for the ancient Egyptian, a metaphysical world poured into the physical, saturating it with meaning.” Yes. Yes. YES!

My own quest for enchantment is one reason why I describe my spiritual path as Sacred Magic. In practice, this encompasses everything from simply chanting for Isis to a wide range of the expressions of modern Hermeticism (which indeed has its oldest roots in ancient Egypt), including the theurgic rites of magic that are intended to grow our souls and spirits. Of course, it also explains, at least in part, my attraction to Isis, Great of Magic.

You have probably also seen Isis described by the lovely title, “the Great Enchantress.” Who else would be the Goddess of Re-Enchanting the World but the Great Enchantress Herself? Yet when we see the title in older English translations, “Isis the Great Enchantress” usually translates Iset Werethekau, which we have discussed here. It seems to have been preferred by some of the Old Gentlemen of Egyptology who were perhaps a bit uncomfortable with the squirmy idea of magic and wanted a kinder and gentler epithet for the admirable Goddess Isis.

A badass magic-wielding Isis inspired by the game Smite; this piece is by KalaSketch

But enchantment has a long magical history. It comes from the idea that acts of magic are often sung or chanted or at least accompanied by singing or chanting. To be enchanted is to be affected by the magic carried in the chant or song. About 1300 CE, the word enchantment came into English from Old French, which got it from Latin incantare, “to sing into.”

Isis often activates Her magic by voice. The “Hymn to Osiris” in the Book of Coming Forth by Day says of Isis:

She recited formulæ with the magical power of her mouth, being skilled of tongue and never halting for a word, being perfect in command and word, Isis the Magician avenged her brother.

A papyrus in the Louvre says:

Isis. . .who repels the deeds of the enchanters by the spells of her mouth.

And a healing formula in the collection of the magical papyri says the spell will be successful

…according to the voice of Isis, the magician, the lady of magic, who bewitches everything, who is never bewitched in her name of Isis, the magician.”

The Goddess Merit

In the second example above, Professor Robert Ritner, who has studied Egyptian magic and its vocabulary extensively, translated the Egyptian word shed-kheru as “enchanters.” “Shed” means “to enchant” and “kheru” is “coming/going forth” as in peret kheru, an invocation offering, the “going forth of the voice.” Shed-kheru then is something like “those who send forth enchantments by voice.” Shed seems to have been a specialized form of “to recite” and was used both in magical formulae and in temple ritual texts. When the Creatrix Goddess Neith spoke the cosmos into existence, She shed, “recited,” Her akhu, “spells.”

Especially on His healing cippi, Horus is sometimes called Horus-Shed, “Horus the Enchanter.” And yes, you are way ahead of me again. Of course, Isis, too, is called The Enchanter. In Her case (feminized), it is Iset ta Shetyet. In fact, we have a handful of instances of that name being applied to Isis. And so it seems that Isis is indeed The Enchantress and I shall have to retract my previous snark at the Old Gentlemen.

Chanting, singing, and music were a vital part of the worship of the ancient Egyptian Deities. By the time of the New Kingdom, the most common sacred title for women was Chantress or Singer of the Deity. These priestesses served both Goddesses and Gods, providing the songs and music that raised and channeled the energy of the sacred rites.

The Mereti, a dual form of Merit, one for upper and one for lower Egypt

The Divine archetype behind this ritual role was the Goddess Merit or Meret, Whose name means “The Beloved.” With Her song, music, and magical gestures, Merit took part in the Creation. Daily, Her song greets the dawn and in kingship rites Merit encourages the king to bring good things to his kingdom, commanding him to, “Come, bring!” In this role of speaker and singer, Merit and the priestesses who represented Her—and in some cases, bore Her name as a title—were called “Great of Praise.” This was not meant to indicate that the priestess herself was praiseworthy (though she may have been). Instead, it meant that her praise—that is, the hymns she sang and the words she spoke—were words that had effect in the Divine realms. Just as the words of Isis, the Lady of Words of Power, are ritually efficacious, so the words of Merit are ritually efficacious.

Much of the magic of the ancient Egyptians was focused on the idea of renewal, rebirth, and reconnecting to the perfection of the First Time. For ourselves today, perhaps we should add to those three “r”s, a fourth: re-enchantment. As we work to renew and restore the world around us, it may be that our inner work is to renew our own magical perception of the world, re-enchanting ourselves from the inside out. And I’m quite sure that a chanted incantation to Isis the Enchantress wouldn’t hurt either.

Isis & the Kore Kosmou, Part 3

Isis Fortuna, Roman, 2nd century CE

We ended last time wondering whether Horus, the son and student of Isis, might be the “Pupil of the Eye of the World” rather than Isis. So let’s have a look at that.

As you already know, the Kore Kosmou is one of the Hermetica, spiritual teaching texts meant to illuminate the student. Like a number of other Hermetica, it appears to end with a significant hymn. I say “appears” because our fragmentary text ends just as Isis is about to reveal the hymn to Horus.

“Ay, mother, Horus said. On me as well bestow the knowledge of this hymn, that I may not remain in ignorance.

And Isis said: Give ear, O son! [. . . ]”

And that’s where it breaks off.

The hymn that we don’t have is the culmination of the entire text and must have had great magical/spiritual power for it is the hymn Isis and Osiris recited before They re-ascended to the heavens after having completed Their civilizing Work on earth.

Close up on an Isis knot, 1st century CE

I’ve been reading a paper by Jorgen Sorensen about the Egyptian background of the Kore Kosmou. He suggests that the missing hymn, combined with a secret that Isis refuses to reveal to Horus earlier in the text could be the text’s main point.

The secret comes up in Isis’ narrative when the embodied souls, not remembering their divine origins, are really messing up the world and the Elements complain to God. They ask that an “Efflux” of God be sent to earth. God consents and as God speaks, it is so. The One the Elements have asked for is already on earth serving as judge and ruler so that all human beings receive the fate they deserve.

Winds Of Horus by Pierre-Alain D; you can purchase a copy here.

Horus interrupts to ask how this efflux or emanation came to earth. Isis replies,

“I may not tell the story of [this] birth; for it is not permitted to describe the origin of thy descent, O Horus, [son] of mighty power, lest afterwards the way-of-birth of the immortal Gods should be known unto men—except so far that God the Monarch, the universal Orderer and Architect, sent for a little while thy mighty sire Osiris, and the mightiest Goddess Isis, that they might help the world, for all things needed them.” (Mead, Kore Kosmou, 36)

Thus the coming into being of the efflux of the Divine is intimately connected with the coming into being of Horus Himself. It is a secret that Horus, a Hermetic student but not yet an adept, isn’t ready to know.

Sorensen suggests that had Isis revealed the secret, it would have been that Horus Himself is the emanation of the Divine that dwells on earth. He notes that the Kore Kosmou is not alone in this and that a number of other Hermetica teach that the student, when fully adept, may indeed be a source of divinity in the world.

A Roman-era Harpokrates, apparently wanting Mom to pick Him up

A Roman-era Harpokrates, reaching for His mother

Sorensen thinks that the ancient Egyptian idea of the pharaoh as a living God is behind the concept of the Hermetic adept as a point of Divine light in the world. It is, of course, significant that the pharaoh is “the Living Horus,” the very embodiment of Horus, son of Isis, in the text.

What’s more, since kore can sometimes be translated as just “eye” rather than pupil, the “Eye of the World” can be considered the Eye of Horus, the Eye that, when healed and complete, becomes a great blessing for the world for it is the very essence of offerings and the greatest talisman of ancient Egypt.

I think I like this idea.

It would be consistent with the so-called “democratizing” of Egyptian funerary/spiritual literature. At first such texts were only for the king, then they became available to nobles, and eventually anyone, at least anyone who was able to purchase their own copy of the book of the dead. And we should remember that the hoped-for culmination of the post mortum process described in the texts was in essence to become a deity, living among the Deities.

Isis Pelagia, Roman, now in the Capitoline Museum, photo by Ann Raia,

By the time of the Hermetica, the idea developed so that living human beings can find the divine potential within themselves. What’s more, their Hermetic studies and practices can help them work toward that potential. Like the healed and complete Eye of Horus, the fully initiated, “completed” adept can bring blessings.

During the first centuries of the Common Era, the period of the Kore Kosmou, the religions of the Mediterranean world were in turmoil. This is the period of the rise of Christianity, the development of Neoplatonism, Gnosticism, as well as other new and changing religious and philosophical movements. People were dealing with the concept of monotheism, discovering its benefits—and paying its price, as Egyptologist Jan Assman puts it in the title of his book The Price of Monotheism.

Sorenson sees a society in which many people felt that the Divine had created the world then simply left it on its own, much like the complaints of the Elements in Kore Kosmou. This may be simply part of the human condition or it may have been something particular to that time.

Hermes Trismegistos as a rather pale pharaoh as pictured in Manly P. Hall’s Secret Teachings of All Ages

And yet many people today have that same feeling. That may be why we are seeing the rise of fundamentalist religions that insist that only certain beliefs and behaviors will put the world to right and bring whatever their particular conception of God is back into the world, while at the same time, fewer people identify as religious and more as atheist. Here in the first century of the second millennium, perhaps we too are in a period of spiritual upheaval.

During those first centuries of the first millennium, it may be that the sense of abandonment was even more acutely felt in Egypt where the Goddesses and Gods had always extended Themselves intimately into the manifest world. The solution of the Hermetic schools (which more and more scholars are now coming to accept derive from genuine Egyptian tradition) was to bring the ancient ideal of the Divine pharaoh forward so that now the individual adept—no longer just the pharaoh—could be a light of the Divine on earth, helping to turn the world to right (Ma’at) through her or his own being and actions.

There is much more that we could talk about in relation to the Kore Kosmou. For instance, we could trace the powers and blessings in the Isis & Osiris aretalogy of our text to concepts in Egyptian tradition. But this is work I haven’t yet done. So for now, we’ll leave the Kore Kosmou and next week’s post will be on another topic. (For aretalogy in relation to Isis, see here and here and even some here.)