Proskynesis and the Deification of Alexander

[On the background to the proskynesis debate and its significance. With specific reference to Ernst Badian.]

In his article on the deification of Alexander the Great, Ernst Badian [in Ancient Macedonian Studies in Honour of Charles F. Edson, 1981] considers the question from two different angles:

1. The significance of the proskynesis debate in the context of 'the classic theory of religious demarcations within the spheres of the divine, and between it and the human' [p28] as set out by one of the participants in the debate, Callisthenes.

2. The nature of the evidence for the 'deification' of Alexander in his lifetime, and the successors, and whether or not any evidence can be found for the deification of living men among the Greeks before the time of Alexander.

Badian's treatment of the latter question is inadequate because he does not clearly distinguish between types of cult - i.e., Heroic and divine - which, within the supposed 'classic theory of religious demarcations within the spheres of the divine and between it and the human' must be of importance. Evidence of cult of a living man is insufficient to support an argument that the particular individual has been deified, and to discuss the question of deification of individuals without considering the distinct types of cult and their implications, is something of a dereliction.

As for the first angle, Badian does not go into great detail about what 'the classic theory of religious demarcations' is. This is not surprising: we have no, and apparently cannot have, inside understanding of this 'classic theory' - all we have is evidence from contemporary literature, from which we must infer as far as possible the nature of the demarcations, without necessarily understanding the precise logic of those demarcations. Thus far, in principle, Badian's approach is reasonable. He does not take the evidence reported in the surviving accounts at face value, but interprets it in the frame of the available historical evidence for deification: i.e., what the prior practice of the Greeks suggests in terms of religious demarcations between the divine and the human. But does he successfully use the relevant evidence to consider both Alexander's understanding of deification, and the understanding of his companions and contemporaries?

Although he is aware of the concept of deification promulgated by Aristotle, the tutor of Alexander (footnote 9, page 31), he is unfamiliar with the chronology of the appearance of the idea in the Aristotelian corpus;  giving as well a faulty reference, citing the remark at 1284a as 1248b, where Aristotle makes 'the much misunderstood statement' that ‘the individual: whose virtue is so pre-eminent... may truly be deemed a God among men'. This appears to be as much as Badian knows about Aristotle's concept of deification, and thus his understanding of the proskynesis debate is severely circumscribed.

Turning to the debate itself, it is depicted as taking place between two individuals named in the account of Arrian as Anaxarchus and Callisthenes (Curtius Rufus gives the name 'Cleon' to the former participant - which matter will be discussed later). Anaxarchus suggests that the time has come for Alexander to be worshipped as a god, on the basis of his achievements and his descent, and asks: 'why not now in his lifetime, rather than uselessly after his death?' By stressing the use of the deification Anaxarchus indicates his motive is the ideological advantage to be gained by Alexander, and that the step is for some reason an unprecedented one. He is attempting to persuade Alexander away from some perception of the divine which makes such a step unthinkable. He (Anaxarchus) argues after the death of Alexander's friend Cleitus that: 'the wise men of old made Justice to sit by the side of Zeus... to show that whatever Zeus may do is justly done. In the same way all the acts of a great king should be considered just, first by himself, then by the rest of us'. Plutarch, writing much later,  provides reinforcement for the idea that Alexander was tempted by this argument for the arrogation of divine status, stating that, while in Egypt, Alexander was 'most pleased by the statement of an Egyptian philosopher 'that all men are governed by God for in everything that which rules and governs is divine'.

The issue of divinity came to a head (according to Arrian) when Alexander 'wished people to prostrate themselves in his presence'. Arrian suggests that the matter of prostration (proskynesis) arose due 'partly to the notion that his father was not Philip but Ammon (referring to the declaration of the Oracle of Ammon at the Siwa Oasis), and partly to his growing admiration, expressed also by the change in his dress and in the general etiquette of his court, of Median and Persian extravagance'. Arrian suggests that there were plenty of servile courtiers willing to flatter Alexander's vanity, and that 'Anaxarchus the sophist was one of the worst'.

The argument of Anaxarchus was opposed by Callisthenes of Olynthus, a nephew of Aristotle (it is of some importance to note that Arrian agrees with Callisthenes argument, though he disagrees with the tastelessness with which he responded to the raising of the issue). Arrian explicitly accuses Alexander of deliberately setting up the debate with Anaxarchus as the protagonist, who argued that 'Alexander had a better claim... to be considered divine than Dionysus or Heracles' and that 'there would be greater propriety' in him being paid divine honours, and that there was 'no doubt that they would honour him as a god after he had left this world; would it not therefore, be in every way better to offer him this tribute now, while he was alive, and not wait till he was dead and could get no good of it?'

Before passing on to Callisthenes response, it should be noted that the notion of tribute here is important, for it implies one or both of two things: that the honour of being called a god is within the capacity of man to give (i.e., part of the spectrum of honours available to mortal judgement: gods were normally revealed via oracular pronouncement); and secondly that it is perceived by Anaxarchus as an honour, an awestruck and indebted response, and not a precise intellectual concept.

Both of these implications are opposed by Callisthenes. He argues that Alexander is 'fit for any mark of honour that a man may earn' (meaning that divinity cannot be earned), but emphasises the separateness of the divine, instancing the examples of the divine being marked by 'the building of temples, the erection of statues, the dedication of sacred ground... sacrifice is offered and libations are poured... yet of all these things not one is so important as this very custom of prostration... a god, far above us on his mysterious throne, it is not lawful for us to touch, and that is why we proffer him the homage of bowing to the earth before him'  (i.e., the act of prostration symbolised to the Greeks the transcendent nature of the object of worship, and to have accepted prostration would involve the idea of Alexander as a transcendent being). Hence he continues, 'it is wrong... to make a man look bigger than he is by paying him excessive and extravagant honour, or at the same time, impiously to degrade the gods (if such a thing were possible) by putting them in this matter on the same level as men' (my emphasis).

As the result of Callisthenes response the matter was dropped, but Arrian further emphasises the supposed inhuman arrogance of Alexander with his account of the plot of Hermolaus (with which Callisthenes was implicated) to kill him for his crimes and to free the Macedonians from evils 'which were no longer to be borne'.

We can clarify the nature of the debate and the implications for Alexander's career by considering what we know of the participants and those responsible for the transmission of the story.

1. Anaxarchus: described as featuring as the 'court philosopher' in the Alexander tradition by Badian, was a pupil of Democritus. After the death of Alexander, Anaxarchus was 'thrown by shipwreck into the power of Nicocreon, king of Cyprus, to whom he had given offence, and who had him pounded to death in a mortar' (i.e., atomised, which suggests strongly that either Nicocreon had an informed sense of humour, or that the incident is fictionalised).

2. Callisthenes: Badian observes that he is related to Aristotle but denies that he was a philosopher, which is incorrect. As well as being Aristotle's nephew he was also his pupil (he is supposed to have sent back from Babylon records of eclipses for the preceding 1900 years).

This is an interesting philosophical opposition. Democritus (and his doctrines) was so hated by Plato that he could not bring himself to mention his name. The Democritean school was essentially materialistic and deterministic, the state of things being explained as the concourse of atoms (indivisibles) and hence was very untheological: subtle theological distinctions were meaningless to them. Democritus 'explicitly denied that anything can ever happen by chance' and, unlike Aristotle in particular, 'sought to explain the world without introducing the notion of purpose or final cause' [Russell, History of Western Philosophy, ch.ix]. Further, 'he disbelieved in popular religion'.

3. Arrian: with regard to Arrian's competence to accurately report the proskynesis debate Badian supports his contention that Arrian was a philosopher by referring to a colleagues’ discovery of a statue base which declares this fact. But Arrian's status as a philosopher has never been in dispute: Arrian is responsible for preserving the teachings of Epictetus in the form of lecture notes (the latter promoted 'a gospel of inner freedom to be attained through submission to providence and a rigorous detachment from everything not in our power').

Arrian's essentially teleological perspective naturally involves an acceptance of the interpenetration of fact and value (in other words, everything means something). So that, given Alexander's aspiration to more than his proper due, he must, of necessity, fall. This is the programme of Arrian's account of Alexander's life: Alexander very nearly merited the status he is supposed to have desired, but even he did not merit the status of divinity. This argument dictates the pattern of the rhetorical contest between Anaxarchus and Callisthenes, as it dictates the change of name of one of the participants by Curtius Rufus. As Badian notes, Curtius Rufus rhetoricizes and has a bad record on names. The substitution of 'Cleon' for Anaxarchus is probably an allusion to the opponent of Pericles, whom both Aristophanes and Thucydides speak of as 'a vile, unprincipled demagogue'. Hence, if Anaxarchus followed his master in disbelieving in popular religion and had no teleological outlook (a proper sense of the equivalence of place and worth) then Curtius might well choose to suggest that the arguer of the view that Alexander should be a god while he lives is a 'vile, unprincipled demagogue', interested only in the ideological function of religion.

Both Callisthenes and Alexander were pupils of Aristotle, and his views are likely to have had impact on both of them (Arrian points out [bk. 7] that 'Alexander was not wholly a stranger to the loftier flights of philosophy', though he yokes to this observation that 'he was to an extraordinary degree, the slave of ambition'). Aristotle argued that divinity was 'merited' or at least was the ultimate target at which men pursuing virtue were aiming in reality. However, the characteristics of divinity argued by Aristotle [bk.x, Nicomachean Ethics] must have been very disagreeable to a man pursuing virtue through action. Throughout the Ethics runs a division between the moral and the intellectual virtues: it is the former which make us human, and the latter which make us something more. As Aristotle says, 'the student of intellectual problems (in this case Alexander) has no need of all the paraphenalia (of moral life)... moral activities are human par excellence', and in completing the circuit of moral excellence we are liberated from these merely human observances and can pursue 'the activity of the intellect...'.

 So far the argument would be pleasing to Alexander, exonerating him from the normal human obligations. But what follows must have caused him disquiet, for this 'activity of the intellect' takes 'the form of contemplation, and not to any end beyond itself... but such a life will be too high for human attainment'. Aristotle continues that the life of contemplation 'will not be lived by us in our merely human capacity but in virtue of something divine within us'. But to do this Aristotle counsels that we forget our mortality and that we should, 'so far as in us lies... put on immortality and... leave nothing unattempted in the effort to live in conformity with the highest thing within us'.

While this argument makes some kind of sense, it proposes a desperate contradiction for someone like Alexander, in pursuit of all achievement as his portion: he cannot be both human and divine - which appears from the evidence to be consistent with the traditional Greek view concerning the divine. Aristotle characterizes the divine as above all forms of virtuous activity, remarking that if the gods are living beings from whom all forms of activity have been removed there is nothing left but contemplation; and thus he concludes that the activity of god is contemplation.

It is likely that the problem of his divinity - framed in this context - did exercise the mind of Alexander: the events of his last days are informed with sense if this is so. The brooding, the obsessive concern with sacrifices, ritual bathing and omens, all argue that Alexander was at war with himself over an impossible problem: this time the knot could not be cut. All achievement was not to be his as promised by the oracle and the work remained incomplete. Had he been deserted by the gods because of hubris? And even if he could cross the gulf between the human and the divine, in the light of Aristotle's argument concerning the nature of the divine, would he be any better than dead, if still living? It may be that he came to believe that he could only achieve the ultimate happiness (and status), as described by Aristotle, in death (note Alexander's reaction to the gymnosophist Dandanus who asserted his self-sufficiency and who was happy that in death he would be free of his body, which he described as his 'unseemly housemate' [Arrian, bk. 7].

In conclusion, it is possible to disinter from the proskynesis debate much more than Badian achieves, despite his close analysis, if the relevant information is brought to bear. Not only is it possible to make more sense of the actual debate, it is possible to make sense also of Alexander's career as a totality as well as in its details. The meaning of his life to the Successors becomes clearer, as does his importance to the transmitters of the information, who shaped the tradition according to their concern with its significance, and not merely the desire to narrate a remarkable career.

Works consulted:

Badian, E. 'The Deification of Alexander the Great', in Ancient

Macedonian Studies in Honor of Charles F. Edson, 1981

Badian, E. 'Some Recent Interpretations of Alexander' &

Schwarzenberg, E. 'The Portraiture of Alexander': both in

 [Entretiens sur L'Antiquite Classique vol. 22 (1975)]: Alexandre Le Grand: Image et Realite

 [Fondation Hardt]

Walker, S. & Burnett, A. The Image of Augustus, 1981

Russell, B. A History of Western Philosophy, 1961 [2nd ed.]

Speake, J. (et al) A Dictionary of Philosophy, 1979

Aristotle Politics; Nicomachean Ethics

Wallbank, F.W. The Hellenistic World

Sinclair, T.A. ”A History of Greek Political Thought, 1967 [2^nd ed.]

Austin, M.M. ”The Hellenistic World, 1981.

Plutarch, Lives ‘Life of Alexander’
Arrian, The Anabasis of Alexander

Thomas Taylor and the Ancient Theology

This is the main text of Thomas Taylor’s introduction to his translation of On the Mysteries by the Platonist philosopher Iamblichus. I’ve removed all the footnotes, modernised Taylor’s orthography, and the paragraphing. So it is much easier to read than it is in its original form.

I read On the Mysteries in this translation before I learned to read Greek. Once read it is impossible to unsee its argument, and the important information it gives us about ancient thought. Iamblichus wrote centuries after Plato, but Taylor suggests that he was drawing on a body of information which was known to both Plato and Pythagoras, and I think that, broadly speaking, he is right. Plato makes a lot more sense if you read Iamblichus first (Proclus too).

Taylor wrote at the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and in London. There were interesting people around at the time who he knew (Blake, Shelley, etc.), but classical scholarship was largely happening in Germany. However German scholarship was engaged in a project diametrically opposed to Taylor’s – they were attempting to take ancient Greek culture entirely out of the run of other civilizations (Egypt, Babylonia, Israel) as part of a Eurocentric political agenda, whereas Taylor argued that the was a profound commonality shared by these cultures, based on an ancient theology which underpinned ritual practice, divine worship, and the development of Greek philosophy. The study of Egypt and the ancient Near East still suffers as a consequence of that Eurocentric agenda. However, much interesting information has come out of the ground since the early nineteenth century, and much of it supports Taylor’s argument, which is given shape and context by Iambichus’ book.

What is most radical about both Taylor and Iamblichus, is the suggestion that ancient polytheism is actually a product of a form of monotheism, built on philosophical argument concerning the nature of reality, the nature and function of the soul, the significance of divine worship and religious ritual, and the pursuit of knowledge.

Thomas Yaeger, April 12, 2019

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It appears to me that there are two descriptions of persons by whom the present work must be considered to be of inestimable worth, the lovers of antiquity and the lovers of ancient philosophy and religion. To the former of these it must be invaluable, because it is replete with information derived from the wise men of the Chaldeans, the prophets of the Egyptians, the dogmas of the Assyrians, and the ancient pillars of Hermes; and to the latter, because of the doctrines contained in it, some of which originated from the Hermaic pillars, were known by Pythagoras and Plato, and were the sources of their philosophy; and others are profoundly theological, and unfold the mysteries of ancient religion with an admirable conciseness of diction, and an inimitable vigour and elegance of conception. To which also may be added, as the colophon of excellence, that it is the most copious, the clearest, and the most satisfactory defence extant of genuine ancient theology.

This theology, the sacred operations pertaining to which called theurgy are here developed, has for the most part, since the destruction of it, been surveyed only in its corruptions among barbarous nations, or during the decline and fall of the Roman empire, with which, overwhelmed with pollution, it gradually fell, and at length totally vanished from what is called the polished part of the globe. This will be evident to the intelligent reader from the following remarks, which are an epitome of what has been elsewhere more largely discussed by me on this subject, and which also demonstrate the religion of the Chaldeans, Egyptians, and Greeks to be no less scientific than sublime.

In the first place, this theology celebrates the immense principle of things as something superior even to being itself; as exempt from the whole of things, of which it is nevertheless ineffably the source ; and does not, therefore, think fit to enumerate it with any triad or order of beings. Indeed it even apologizes for giving the appellation of the most simple of our conceptions to that which is beyond all knowledge and all conception. It denominates this principle however, the one and the good; by the former of these names indicating its transcendent simplicity, and by the latter its subsistence as beings. For all the object of desire to all things desire good. At the same time, however, it asserts that these appellations are in reality nothing more than the parturitions of the soul, which, standing as it were in the vestibules of the adytum of deity, announce nothing pertaining to the ineffable, but only indicate her spontaneous tendencies towards it, and belong rather to the immediate offspring of the first God than to the first itself. Hence, as the result of this most venerable conception of the supreme, when it ventures not only to denominate it, though ineffable, but also to assert something of its relation to other things, it considers this as preeminently its peculiarity, that it is the principle of principles; it being necessary that the characteristic property of principle, after the same manner as other things, should not begin from multitude, but should be collected into one monad as a summit, and which is the principle of all principles.

The scientific reasoning from which this dogma is deduced is the following. As the principle of all things is the one, it is necessary that the progression of beings should be continued, and that no vacuum should intervene either in incorporeal or corporeal natures. It is also necessary that every thing which has a natural progression should proceed through similitude. In consequence of this, it is likewise necessary that every producing principle should generate a number of the same order with itself, viz. nature, a natural number; soul, one that is psychical (i. e. belonging to soul); and intellect an intellectual number. For if whatever possesses a power of generating, generates similars prior to dissimilars, every cause must deliver its own form and characteristic peculiarity to its progeny ; and before it generates that which gives subsistence to progressions, far distant and separate from its nature, it must constitute things proximate to itself according to essence, and conjoined with it through similitude.

It is, therefore, necessary from these premises, since there is one unity, the principle of the universe, that this unity should produce from itself, prior to every thing else, a multitude of natures characterized by unity, and a number the most of all things allied to its cause; and these natures are no other than the Gods. According to this theology, therefore,  from the immense principle of principles, in which all things causally subsist, absorbed in superessential light, and involved in unfathomable depths, a beauteous progeny of principles proceed, all largely partaking of the ineffable, all stamped with the occult characters of deity, all possessing an overflowing fulness of good. From these dazzling summits, these ineffable blossoms, these divine propagations, being, life, intellect, soul, nature, and body depend; monads suspended from unities, deified natures proceeding from deities. Each of these monads, too, is the leader of a series which extends from itself to the last of things, and which, while it proceeds from, at the same time abides in, and returns to, its leader. And all these principles, and all their progeny, are finally centred and rooted by their summits in the first great all-comprehending one.

Thus all beings proceed from, and are comprehended in, the first being : all intellects emanate from one first intellect ; all souls from one first soul; all natures blossom from one first nature; and all bodies proceed from the vital and luminous body of the world. And, lastly, all these great monads are comprehended in the first one, from which both they and all their depending series are unfolded into light. Hence this first one is truly the unity of unities, the monad of monads, the principle of principles, the God of Gods, one and all things, and yet one prior to all.

No objections of any weight, no arguments but such as are sophistical, can be urged against this most sublime theory, which is so congenial to the unperverted conceptions of the human mind, that it can only be treated with ridicule and contempt in degraded, barren, and barbarous ages. Ignorance and impious fraud, however, have hitherto conspired to defame those inestimable works ' in which this and many other grand and important dogmas can alone be found; and the theology of the ancients has been attacked with all the insane fury of ecclesiastical zeal, and all the imbecile flashes of mistaken wit, by men whose conceptions on the subject, like those of a man between sleeping and waking, have been turbid and wild, phantastic and confused, preposterous and vain.

 Indeed, that after the great incomprehensible cause of all, a divine multitude subsists, cooperating with this cause in the production and government of the universe, has always been, and is still, admitted by all nations and all religions, however much they may differ in their opinions respecting the nature of the subordinate deities, and the veneration which is to be paid to them by man; and however barbarous the conceptions of some nations on this subject may be, when compared with those of others. Hence, says the elegant MaximusTyrius, "You will see one according law and assertion in all the earth, that there is one God, the king and father of all things, and many Gods, sons of God, ruling together with him. This the Greek says, and the Barbarian says, the inhabitant of the continent, and he who dwells near the sea, the wise and the unwise. And if you proceed as far as to the utmost shores of the ocean, there also there are Gods, rising very near to some, and setting very near to others."

The deification, however, of dead men, and the worshiping men as Gods, formed no part of this theology, when it is considered according to its genuine purity. Numerous instances of the truth of this might be adduced, but I shall mention for this purpose, as unexceptionable witnesses, the writings of Plato, the Golden Pythagoric Verses, and the Treatise of Plutarch on Isis and Osiris. All the works of Plato, indeed, evince the truth of this position, but this is particularly manifest from his Laws. The Golden verses order that the immortal Gods be honoured first, as they are disposed by law ; afterwards the illustrious Heroes, under which appellation the author of the verses comprehends also angels and daemons,  properly so called; and in the Iast place, the terrestrial daemons,  i. e. such good men as transcend in virtue the rest of mankind. But to honour the Gods as they are disposed by law, is, as Hierocles observes, to reverence them as they are arranged by their demiurgus and father ; and this is to honour them as beings not only superior to man, but also to daemons and angels. Hence, to honour men, however excellent they may be, as Gods, is not to honour the Gods according to the rank in which they are placed by their Creator; for it is confounding the divine with the human nature, and is thus acting directly contrary to the Pythagoric precept. Plutarch too, in his above mentioned treatise, most forcibly and clearly shows the impiety of worshiping men as Gods. " So great an apprehension indeed," says Dr. Stillingfleet) " had the Heathens of the necessity of appropriate acts of divine worship that some of them have chosen to die, rather than to give them to what they did not believe to be God.

We have a remarkable story to this purpose in Arrian and Curtius concerning Callisthenes. Alexander arriving at that degree of vanity as to desire to have divine worship given him, and the matter being started out of design among the courtiers, either by Anaxarchus, as Arrian, or Cleo the Sicilian, as Curtius says ; and the way of doing it proposed, viz. by incense and prostration ; Callisthenes vehemently opposed it, as that which would confound the difference of human and divine worship, which had been preserved inviolable among them. The worship of the Gods had been kept up in temples, with altars, and images, and sacrifices, and hymns, and prostrations, and such like ; but it is by no means fitting, says he, for us to confound these things, either by lifting up men to the honours of the Gods, or depressing the Gods to the honours of men. For if Alexander would not suffer any man to usurp his royal dignity by the votes of men ; how much more justly may the Gods disdain for any man to take their honours to himself. And it appears by Plutarch," that the Greeks thought it a mean and base thing for any of them, when sent on any embassy to the kings of Persia, to prostrate themselves before them, because this was only allowed among them in divine adoration.

Therefore,  says he, when Pelopidas and Ismenias were sent to Artaxerxes, Pelopidas did nothing unworthy, but Ismenias let fall his ring to the ground, and stooping for that, was thought to make his adoration; which was altogether as good a shift as the Jesuits advising the crucifix to be held in the mandarin's hands while they made their adorations in the Heathen temples in China. Conon also refused to make his adoration,as a disgrace to his city; and Isocrates accuses the Persians for doing it, because herein they showed that they despised the Gods rather than men, by prostituting their honours to their princes. Herodotus mentions Sperchies and Bulis, who could not with the greatest violence be brought to give adoration to Xerxes, because it was against the law of their country to give divine honour to men And Valerius Maximus says, "the Athenians put Timagoras to death for doing it ; so strong an apprehension had possessed them, that the manner of worship which they used to their Gods, should be preserved sacred and inviolable." The philosopher Sallust also, in his Treatise on the Gods and the World, says, "It is not unreasonable to suppose that impiety is a species of punishment, and that those who have had a knowledge of the Gods, and yet despised them, will in another life be deprived of this knowledge. And it is requisite to make the punishment of those who have honoured their kings as Gods to consist, in being expelled from the Gods."

When the ineffable transcendency of the first God, which was considered as the grand principle in the Heathen religion by the best theologists of all nations, and particularly by its most illustrious promulgators, Orpheus, Pythagoras, and Plato, was forgotten, this oblivion was doubtless the principal cause of dead men being deified by the Pagans. Had they properly directed their attention to this transcendency they would have perceived it to be so immense as to surpass eternity, infinity, self-subsistence, and even essence itself, and that these in reality belong to those venerable natures which are, as it were, first unfolded into light from the unfathomable depths of that truly mystic unknown, about which all knowledge is refunded into ignorance. For, as Simplicius justly observes, "It is requisite that he who ascends to the principle of things should investigate whether it is possible there can be any thing better than the supposed principle ; and if something more excellent is found, the same inquiry should again be made respecting that, till we arrive at the highest conceptions,  than which we have no longer any more venerable. Nor should we stop in our ascent till we find this to be the case. For there is no occasion to fear that our progression will be through an unsubstantial void, by conceiving something about the first principles which is greater and more transcendent than their nature. For it is not possible for our conceptions to take such a mighty leap as to equal, and much less to pass beyond, the dignity of the first principles of things." He adds, " This, therefore, is one and the best extension [of the soul] to [the highest] God, and is, as much as possible, irreprehensible ; viz. to know firmly, that by ascribing to him the most venerable excellences we can conceive, and the most holy and primary names and things, we ascribe nothing to him which is suitable to his dignity. It is sufficient, however, to procure our pardon [for the attempt], that we can attribute to him nothing superior." 

"If it is not possible, therefore, to form any ideas equal to the dignity of the immediate progeny of the ineffable, i. e. of the first principles of things, how much less can our conceptions reach that thrice unknown darkness, in the reverential language of the Egyptians, which is even beyond these? Had the Heathens, therefore, considered as they ought this transcendency of the supreme God, they would never have presumed to equalize the human with the divine nature, and consequently would never have worshiped men as Gods. Their theology, however, is not to be accused as the cause of this impiety, but their forgetfulness of the sublimest of its dogmas, and the confusion with which this oblivion was necessarily attended.

But to return to the present work. To some who are conversant with the writings of Porphyry, who know how high he ranks among the best of the Platonists, and that he was denominated by them, on account of his excellence, the philosopher, it may seem strange that he should have been so unskilled in theological mysteries, and so ignorant of the characteristics of the beings superior to man, as by his epistle to Anebo he may appear to have been. That he was not, however. in reality thus unskilful and ignorant, is evident from his admirable Treatise on Abstinence from Animal Food,  and his Auxiliaries to Intelligibles. His apparent ignorance,therefore,  must have been assumed for the purpose of obtaining a more perfect and copious solution of the doubts proposed in his Epistle, than he would otherwise have received. But at the same time that this is admitted, it must also be observed, that he was inferior to Iamblichus in theological science, who so greatly excelled in knowledge of this kind, that he was not surpassed by any one, and was equaled by few. Hence he was denominated by all succeeding Platonists the divine, in the same manner as Plato, "to whom," as the acute Emperor Julian remarks, " he was posterior in time only, but not in genius.

The difficulties attending the translation of this work into English are necessarily great, not only from its sublimity and novelty, but also from the defects of the original. I have, however, endeavoured to make the translation as faithful and complete as possible; and have occasionally availed myself of the annotations of Gale, not being able to do so continually, because for the most part, where philosophy is concerned,  he shows himself to be an inaccurate,  impertinent, and garrulous smatterer.

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Postscript, April 21, 2019 

I first became aware of Thomas Taylor as an important figure in the history of philosophy (and the wider history of ideas) when I was about twenty-four or twenty-five. At the time (around 1981) most of his work was generally unavailable, barring the occasional reprint of books by specialist presses (there were some of these partial reprints in the late nineteenth century, and again in the 1920s). The only practical recourse was to obtain a reader's ticket for the National Library of Scotland, since the legal deposit legislation which had been in place since the eighteenth century meant they should have copies on their shelves. 

Sure enough, they were there in the catalogue, and in numbers. I spent a lot of time in the main reading room over the next few months. The catalogue at the time was on rolls of microfilm, so it was difficult to get hard copy of the metadata about Taylor's books from there, without having to write it down. Which is what I did (the catalogue was replaced with an electronic version within a year or so). It felt like doing a form of archaeology - digging up something for the most part long forgotten, and only of specialist interest. However the reading room was warm and quiet, and I was spared  wind and rain while I dug my trenches.

Now everything is different, and spectacularly so. In the early years of the new century a massive reprint of Taylor's work was undertaken by the Prometheus Trust, which had been set up expressly to bring his works back into print. I bought these editions as and when they became available. In the end I had everything the Trust had reprinted, which included the translations of Plato and Aristotle undertaken by Floyer Sydenham, the translations of Aristotle and the Neoplatonist writers by Taylor, including Iamblichus, Porphyry, Proclus, etc., and the dissertations he wrote on various aspects of ancient philosophy, including on the ancient interest in mathematical series.

The Trust has now expanded its scope, and has reprinted English texts of other ancient philosophical writings (often with the Greek text on the opposite page, which Taylor did not supply with his editions, most probably on account of cost: some of his translations were printed in editions of only 50 copies). I’ve been adding these to my collection also.

Many of Taylor’s books are now available in digital form (several formats) from the Internet Archive,  established by Brewster Kahle. Taylor was read more in the United States, and many copies made the trip across the Atlantic. Which is why they produced poets like Emerson, Thoreau and Whitman. The Internet Archive has many digital copies of Taylor texts from American University collections, and copies also of some which found their way into libraries in India.

The editions from the Prometheus Trust cost money (though they are not that expensive). The digital editions are available free of charge. So Thomas Taylor’s work is now more readily available than it has ever been. If you want to read his work, you can.

These are the relevant links:

The Prometheus Trust. This is their complete catalogue.

Thomas Taylor’s works available from the Internet Archive can be found by following this search string. There are more than 600 items, with many duplicate copies. 

Thomas Yaeger, Easter Sunday, 2019.

[Since I posted this article, the URL of the complete Thomas Taylor catalogue has changed. The link was updated on January 24, 2020.] 

What We Have Lost, and How the Ancient Concept of the Cosmos Died

[Extract from correspondence with a specialist in ancient astronomy, on the question of why it is we are so disengaged with the concerns of the ancient world.] 

[....]

Thanks for your substantial mail, which I will work through in order, for clarity.

The day of the equinox was quite spectacular, with the full moon rising over the Pentland Hills to the south of Edinburgh. The weather has been very unsettled in the past couple of weeks, so I was not expecting to see anything.

[...]

...binding and loosing was important in Egypt also. In fact it seems to have been an idea universal in ancient civilisations. Though the basis of the idea is likely to have been the preserve of the educated, and the personnel of the divine cults (mostly, but not always exactly the same people). The core idea underlying binding and loosing is that our physical existence is, however it might look to us, a subjective perception of reality. And a subjective perception of reality is a subjective perception of Being itself.

That is why it is so difficult for scholars to understand what is going on. They see the practices and ‘beliefs’ which survive in the literary and archaeological record, but they have no frame in which to understand these things. They do not expect to find anything subtle and sophisticated, because they (they think) are dealing with forms of primitive stupidity, no matter how refined the cultural remains might appear to be.

The figure I gave for the number of offering tables recently turns out to be well out of date. The archaeological exploration of ancient Akhetaten (Tell El Amarna) continues, and the current figure is more than 790 offering tables. That is a staggering number.

You can term the perception of the cosmos which largely eludes modern scholars ‘a shamanic world view’. It is a world view which is extremely old. There were always people around who could see and think beyond the here and now. But the term ‘shaman’ is relatively modern, and fills a gap in the arsenal of modern anthropology. But supplying a name for a phenomenon does not explain what is behind the shamanic practices, and the associated patterns of understanding.

Once the inextricable link between the physical world and the reality beyond became part of the ancient mindset (probably from an immemorial time), it becomes obvious that what happens in Heaven has an effect on Earth, and vice versa. This explains a lot about Buddhist thought, which I’ve spent some time studying over the years. Recently I wrote an article on the possible influence of Buddhism on the philosophy of David Hume. The article explores the logic involved in Theravara Buddhism in some detail.  Theravara Buddhism isn’t a close analogue with with Mesopotamian and Egyptian thought, but it arises from a similar perception of what Reality itself is. The article also discusses ideas prevalent in the European Enlightenment (mainly in the context of Diderot’s Encylopedia, which explain much about negative attitudes to ancient thought in the eighteenth century). The Enlightenment of David Hume.

How was the ancient perception of the nature of the cosmos lost, and why? That’s two very large questions! Asking about the consequences of that loss is another big question. You know lots of stuff about that already, I know. But a discursive triangulation on this question between us, is likely to be useful for us both. This may take some time.

I’ve been writing about that loss for a long time, since it became obvious early on that it was necessary to understand the trajectory, the context, and the mechanics of the loss (in some detail), if we were to be able to (properly) understand what was actually lost.

As far as the savants of the European Enlightenment were concerned, the entire history of the human race before the eighteenth century was a morass of irrational thought – mythology, folklore, magic, legions of superstitious beliefs, a general credulity in the human race, and in earlier times, murderous ritual. They thought they could get clear of all of that by the rigorous application of common sense. That was the basis of Diderot’s Encyclopedia. So, the enoblement of common sense is one of the factors in the loss of the ancient world view.

It is hard to entirely blame the savants, given the limited information that they had. To them the past seemed to be a grim and dark place. They understood that even the crafts were wrapped around in superstition. But the crafts remained important for the wellbeing of the human race. So the crafts were described in the Encyclopedia, but shorn of anything which wasn’t entirely practical.

The savants often did not read and know ancient literature. So they did not know much that was worth knowing. That’s one of the problems with common sense: if the solution is common sense, that is already in your head. Reading is irrelevant. 

Common sense of course, when you are dealing with something which is transcendent of human experience and understanding, is entirely inappropriate. Common sense dictated that the transcendent did not exist, and served no purpose in understanding our world.

The loss of understanding has been going on for a very long time, and was already under way in the 2^nd Millennium BCE. This island is dotted with stone circles as you know, but the ancient Britons stopped building them around the 14^th century BCE. So something, some conception was lost, which removed the motive for building them.

I read a chapter of your writing about the esoteric recently, which was essentially sound. But it isn’t the case that esoteric knowledge in the ancient world was not deliberately kept as a secret. The various priesthoods and sages might have wished that every living person should know what it is, but because esoteric knowledge is often puzzling and counterintuitive in nature, it is easy for what it is to be misunderstood, and then reconstituted as something else. Knowledge which is misunderstood is worse than no knowledge at all. 

I think that is the general pattern of the loss of understanding. Some insight into the nature of reality itself is achieved by an individual, and that insight is taught. An entire culture is developed on the bedrock of that insight. Then it is taught badly, or taught to those who cannot understand what they are being told. The insight becomes something other than what it actually is, and then serves some other cultural or social function. Once a culture is on that slope, it is hard to put the slide into reverse.

I can give some examples here, plus pointers to articles in which I’ve discussed the disconnects between ancient and modern understanding.

First, the ontological argument, which constitutes a huge obstacle to an understanding of ancient thought about the divine. The principal problem with the modern ontological argument is that, for the past seven or eight centuries or so, the argument has been formulated on the basis of the notion that the property of ‘existence’ indicates that something is real. Which is why the argument attempts to provide credible grounds for saying that God exists, and is therefore real. Which is tantamount to a denial of transcendent reality, or the transcendent nature of god. There are other issues with the argument.

I discussed both Anselm’s and Descartes’ versions in The Sacred History of Being, and an extract from the article on Descartes is at: The Ontological Argument In Descartes.  

How did the Christian church, and the philosophers, make this mistake? Probably because they were afraid of the unbounded, the limitless, and the concept of infinity. They wanted an omniscient and perfect entity as their god, but not one that was necessarily beyond human fathoming, and wrapped around in puzzles and paradoxes. They were making God in their own image, rather than the other way around.

I’ve written about the history of the idea of infinity in mathematics, religion and philosophy, via a critical review of Adrian W Moore’s BBC radio series on the subject, broadcast in 2016. My review identifies what is missing from Moore’s tendentious argument.  A long read, but worth the time, I think. It shows just how much pain and intellectual difficulty the idea of the infinite can cause the human mind: ‘Evading the Infinite’

They still had the notion that God lay somewhere behind the physical world, but that notion was not a very sophisticated one. They didn’t need a sophisticated version of God any more, since the main function of religion in the West, from sometime before the fall of Rome, was to support temporal power. 

Divines in the early modern period ended up splitting into two major factions. The Theists saw the world as the creation of God, and that God could be petitioned by Man. Though they had by this time lost all understanding of the mechanism which might make this connection possible. The other major faction was the Deists, who conceived that God had created the world, but that God was the prime mover, and once the world and the cosmos was set in motion, he did not interfere. This view took hold particularly after Descartes and Newton, and the regularity of the motions of the heavenly bodies was then taken to be evidence of the existence of God (this view became known as uniformitarianism, meaning that the forces which were in play in the past, are the same ones which are at play now. The implication is that everything can be calculated).

Much of this is down to early modern misreadings of Aristotle from the 12^th century CE onwards, and his notion of ‘substance’ (ousia). When is Aristotle talking about matter, or about Being, and/or Reality itself? In the Middle Ages they weren’t very sure. The earlier Arian controversy in the 4^th century CE also revolved around substance (is God one or Triune? They decided that God was Triune – ‘Father, Son and Holy Ghost’ - but the component parts ‘were of the same substance.’ (homousia) What that common substance actually was, was never established in Christian doctrine (and the trinitarian view of God is still not accepted by all Christians). The triadic nature of the divine in Christianity is something which has its origins in Egyptian religion. It’s a feature of Christian theology because the ‘Father, Son and Holy Ghost’ are mentioned in the Old Testament. Just without the political fudge of the homousia, which is the legacy of the Council of Nicaea, held in 325 CE.

   

Reliance on Aristotle as a guide always was an error of judgement among scholars. He sometimes argues something other than what he actually thinks (he wrote a book on rhetoric, the Sophistical Refutations), and clearly sometimes actively intended to mislead his students. A case in point is his Nicomachean Ethics, the argument of which proposes that the Gods, by their nature are wholly contemplative, and cannot engage in the world.  Which is an odd and essentially heretical kind of argument to make in the late 4^th Century BCE. The book is a series of lecture notes, probably by different hands (there is an obvious duplication in the text in Book 8). We know that Aristotle held different classes in the morning, and in the afternoon. In the morning he taught exoteric knowledge, in the afternoon he taught esoteric knowledge. The notes on ethics must come from his exoteric teaching, since the argument arrives at, what was at the time, a nonsensical conclusion.

Why would Aristotle do this? The point of spending time building a painstaking argument that leads to a nonsensical conclusion is to find out who the intelligent students are in your class: the intelligent ones are those who pick at the inconsistencies and absurdities of your argument. Those are the ones who you allow to move on to study esoteric thought. Something like this procedure is still used by tribal elders in Africa: you ask a question about the gods, and they give you what sounds like a plausible reply. But it isn’t the real one. The student will only get the real reply once he has shown he is no fool. And that takes a lot more questions on the subject.

Aristotle’s greatest and most dangerous legacy to us also comes ultimately from his exoteric teachings, and is a main cause of our intellectual exile from antiquity. These are his Laws of thought. These Laws became the basis of formal logic as we understand it in the modern world, and they are also the basis of much theological argumentation from the middle ages onwards. Aristotle did not write a treatise on the laws of thought – the various component parts are mentioned and described in his Metaphysics. Put in the most simple way, The first is the Law of Identity (a thing is itself, and not something else), the second is the Law of Non-Contradiction (a thing cannot be one thing and another thing at the same time); the third is the Law of the Excluded Middle (a thing cannot be halfway between what it is and something else).

You can see that the laws revolve around the idea of identity. But it is a purely secular conception of identity, not at all applicable to something which is transcendent.  If you accept the universality of these laws, you cannot discuss the transcendent in any meaningful sense, even if you have academic tenure in a theological seminary. And it is entirely impossible to understand anything useful about ancient religion and ritual, except in purely phenomenological terms.

I have pointed out however that an alternative logical modality has come down to us in the pages of Plato (in the Timaeus), and it is this one which illuminates ancient religion and philosophy. The Neoplatonist writers referenced it. The account of this modality in Plato is rarely discussed by specialists, in terms of what it is and what it means, though it is often read, since Plato’s Timaeus is a text often set for students. Detail available in: Logical Modality in Classical Athens. You might find it interesting then to read The Greek Ontological Model in the 1st Millennium B.C.E.

Though the idea of Being was discussed in classical Greece, by Parmenides and Plato, as well as the Presocratics, the idea was not much discussed in late antiquity, except by the Neoplatonists from the third century CE onwards (Proclus, Iamblichus, Porphyry, Olympiodorus and Plotinus, and some others). But very few outside of their circles were paying attention at the time. Their moment came as late as the Italian Renaissance. And then they were lost sight of once again after the Newtonian revolution.

So the ideas of the Divine as coterminous with Reality itself, and that Reality itself was entirely transcendent in nature, dropped out of philosophical discourse within the Church. It was not picked up again by philosophers in the early modern period. Hence the endless and vacuous discussions about whether or not God could be said to have the property of existence.

With the advent of the European Enlightenment, the history of human thought began to be written about again in detail, for the first time since Diogenes Laertius wrote his Lives of the Philosophers. But the rewriting was done on the basis of certain presumptions. It was axiomatic that abstract ideas,  such as Being,  were difficult things to discuss, and it was agreed that the Greeks had been the first to do this, during the middle of the first millennium BCE. Why was this decided? The evidence for the Greeks was unquestionably in the surviving texts. Whereas it was decided that there was no evidence that other cultures had ever risen to such levels of discussion.

At the time, it could be argued, it would have been difficult to have come to any other conclusion. Several ancient writers however, had suggested that philosophy was an immensely old discipline, including Plato and Clement of Alexandria. Clement even gave a list of the cultures who practised the discipline. Both Diogenes Laertius and Aristotle suggested that it might have had an origin elsewhere. Aristotle suggested that it required a relatively leisured professional class to emerge, by which he probably had the Egyptians in mind. Isocrates (a rival to Plato, and actively opposed to Plato’s outlook) mentioned the Egyptians in connection with philosophy four times. These statements were (and still are) dismissed.

The European Enlightenment marks the point where the Egyptians ancient reputation as philosophers was systematically downgraded by German scholars (documented in detail in Martin Bernal’s Black Athena). In the end it was agreed that the Egyptians dealt in terms of concrete ideas (whatever that means), and consequently were not capable of abstract thought, and were not capable of contemplating ideas of a wholly transcendent level of reality. Even now, Egyptologists refer to ancient Egyptians as ‘pragmatic’ (as opposed to philosophical) in the way they thought about their religion and rituals.

All this was done in order to preserve the Enlightenment fiction of a stupendous achievement of the Greeks in the middle of the 1^st Millennium BCE, by isolating and downgrading contemporary cultures which might have influenced their development.

Over the past 170 years, an enormous amount of evidence has come out of the ground, and quite a lot of it suggests (to those who are awake at least) that philosophy, transcendental thought, and a sophisticated concept of Being was at the root of a number of cultures around the Mediterranean and the Near East. However Egyptologists (in particular) just ignore this evidence as irrelevant to their profession. Most classicists do too, but with some of them, the dam is starting to break.

That’s the short answer to your question…. There is much more, however, which I will skip for the moment. Where are we going on this long trajectory? I had an exchange of mails with a friend in San Francisco in 2015, where we discussed this question.  I took out personal stuff from the exchange, anonymised her, and turned it into an article which is on my website. I will point you at that.  Locke, Newton, and the Rejection of Reality.

I entirely agree with you that the materialistic paradigm necessarily results in the denial of the possible non-locality of consciousness. If you think that thought and consciousness itself are the products of biological processes in the brain, the idea that consciousness is not localised in the human head just sounds like so much nonsense.  The non-locality of consciousness has been a subject for a few philosophers over the years, but is not discussed in terms of the paradigm which we clearly have in common. P. F. Strawson was one, Wittgenstein was another (Strawson was influenced by Wittgenstein’s thought). Among philosophers it is generally referenced as the ‘no-ownership’ model of consciousness. Usually the argument is along the lines of: “we are constricted to think as we are about identity, perception, experience, physicality, location, etc., by the limitations of (apparently) being physical entities in space and time. Which may not actually be the case”. Not much fun to read, but at least they understand that a materialist interpretation of human existence is problematic.

I also agree that there is a lot of evidence which suggests that consciousness is not localised in the brain, or associated with matter at all. Consciousness may interact with matter, and have some kind of interface with the material world, but that is not the same as being a phenomenon which is entirely localisable. There is a two-way traffic, as you said earlier in your mail.

For me I understand this to be possible because things which are apparently in different places, are actually together in one place, which I reference as the plenum. Which is a place which is not localisable. It is also the key idea we have lost, which makes it impossible to understand both reality itself, and the representations of it, in which we live.

The implication of the concept of reality being a plenum (as it was understood in antiquity) is that both God and gods are necessarily real. This is the consequence of the way they were defined. Each of them has an excellence special to them. That excellence is what makes them real. The plenum is itself real because it is complete and perfect in itself [...]. This fundamental idea is what underpins Greek and Assyrian conceptions of the importance of excellence in thought and activity. It is also why excellence in craft skills was venerated in antiquity. Excellence is what connects everything with everything else. It is why the perfect  execution and observance of a ritual or ceremony was regarded as the most important thing to achieve. This pattern of ideas served as a model among the Greeks for the human soul, and to the organization of society, discussed at: Justice and the Harmony of the Soul. Excellence was also what gave access to the divine: Excellence and the Knowledge of Divine Things.

So I accept that consciousness can be understood as a bridge between ourselves as we are in the form of finite representations, and what we are in that place (which is paradoxically no place) which is filled with the complete and the perfect.  And I agree with you that an important aspect of ritual is about facilitating traffic between the worlds. As you suggest, the traffic is a bit constricted now, since many fewer people have any conception of this purpose…. However, it is necessary for ritual to be performed, and observance to be made, but not essential for the process to be fully understood for it to have an effect. There are still people performing rituals and observances.

   

I read somewhere (in what I’ve read of your work so far), that myth is often about travelling to that other place, either by ascending to Heaven, or descending to an underworld (actually the same place, the plenum, just dressed differently). I agree. [...] The creation of a myth, and the telling of it, can be understood as performative also, particularly if rituals are associated with it: it is ritual made visible. Placing myths in the sky, to descend into the earth, and to rise from it once again, as part of a regular cycle, like a rotating Tibetan prayer wheel, is performative and served the same function.  

Best, Thomas

The Keys of the Kingdom: Binding and Loosing in Heaven and Earth

Where are my books going? What is the point I’m trying to make by writing them?

There is something very important about the way the cosmos was understood in antiquity, which has been lost almost entirely. But not actually entirely, as I have found out in conversation with readers since my first book was published in November 2015. Some readers seem to grasp the ancient understanding almost intuitively, without having to know how it can be approached at a technical level.  Others arrive at the knowledge as the result of logical argument. It is also possible to approach the knowledge on the basis of the study of ancient literature, liturgy, philosophy, and iconography.

My own way into the ancient understanding began perhaps with discovering the statement Matthew 16: 19 concerning the ‘Keys of the Kingdom’, which is a phrase used only once in the Bible.

 “ whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven”

I first read this when I was about fifteen, and at school, and wondered at what it could possibly mean. It remained a mystery to me for some time – it would have been an entirely fruitless business to bring it up in our religious instruction class. The full passage extends from Matthew 16, verse 13-20, which I quote here:

13 When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”
14 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
15 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
16 Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
17 Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven.
18 And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.
19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”
20 Then he ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

This passage concerns the knowledge that the Son of Man is in  fact God incarnate. Jesus asks questions of his disciples about their understanding of who he is, and they reply with different interpretations. All except Simon Peter answered by suggesting he is one of the prophets. Simon Peter on the other hand, identifies him directly as the Messiah, and declares that he is the Son of the living God.

Jesus declares that Simon Peter is blessed, on account of this identification, "for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood” (i.e., by anything or any experience with roots and nature in the physical and secular world), “but by my Father in heaven”. He then proceeds to proclaim this idea as the rock on which “I will build my church”. There is a pun here of course on Simon Peter’s name – Petros - which means ‘rock’. But the meaning of the passage is that the Church (ekklesia) is to be built on the idea that whatever is bound on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever is loosed on earth will be loosed in heaven. This power constitutes the Keys of the Kingdom (of God).

Peter here represents a personification of the Church, but it is the Church itself which is important, and whose nature is being defined. Jesus is saying is that there is an essential identity between Heaven and Earth, and between the Father (in Heaven) and the Son (on Earth). However difficult a concept this may be to grasp, since it seems to defy logic. Simon Peter does grasp this, and he is made blessed and holy by this understanding.

As I said, this remained a passage which was hard to fathom for many years, despite the fact that it came to serve an important function for the Catholic church, in that the Church knows Saint Peter as the first Bishop of Rome, and claims that the power of the 'keys of the kingdom of God' is therefore invested in their Church. But its meaning is so much more interesting than that.

It is in fact a passage which parodies the Mesopotamian understanding of the relationship between gods in heaven, and incarnations of the gods on earth. I’ve written extensively about this in The Sacred History of Being. Babylonian priests could set up gods in heaven, and on earth, and they had a complex ritual process (lasting three days) which allowed them to do this. Close study of the texts associated with this process tell us a great deal about the logic which underpins it, and indeed the priests have the power to both create and to decommission gods both in heaven and on earth.

The king in Babylonia, as the living representative of Bel/Marduk on Earth, had the power to confer a temporary divinity upon the workmen making or refurbishing the divine images, which power could then be removed when they had finished their work. Part of the ceremony involved the ritual parody of their hands being cut off with a knife of tamarisk wood, symbolising the removal of their capacity to make gods. Which was their ability to join together divinity in heaven, and divinity on Earth, and to bind and loose in two worlds.

The holiness code in Leviticus confirms this interpretation that there is, for some reason which is hardly ever spelled out, an essential identity between heaven and Earth

“I am the Lord your God. If I am Holy, then you must be Holy”. (Leviticus 19.2).

Many in the modern world struggle with the idea of the incarnation of the divine on earth, and divinity made flesh. It was a struggle for many in antiquity also, hence the importance that faith (without understanding) came to have.  There are real answers out there to this question however, which illuminate much about ancient thought, religion, liturgy and literature, and they are worth spelling out.