Mithras in the papyri

Few people can be aware that the papyrus discoveries of the last century have included references to Mithras.  I do not refer here to the use of the name of Mithras in the Greek Magical Papyri, in PGM IV,[1] where one of the incantations was even given the name of the Mithras Liturgy by its unfortunate early editor, Dieterich.[2]  The luckless Dieterich dedicated the book to the great Franz Cumont, but Cumont declined to agree with Dieterich that the text was Mithraic.

Rather I refer to two papyri, which seem unavoidably connected with the initiation rituals of the cult.  Rather amazingly, I find transcriptions and even translations of both online here.

The first of the papyri is P. Berol. 21196, a scrap of papyrus probably found at Ashmounein in Egypt in 1906, and the property of the Aegyptisches Museum und Papyrussammlung of the Berlin State Museum.  It dates from the 4th century AD, and consists of fragments of a single papyrus sheet from a codex.  It was published in 1992 by the late William Brashear.[3]

The document seems to involve questions and answers, and is perhaps a preparatory catechism for an initiation.  There is mention of a pater — the 7th grade of initiation in the mysteries; of night as the time for some ceremony, putting on a girdle or belt with 4 tassels, wearing linen, dealing with something sharp, and something hot or cold, and the mention of a meal.  Line 9 of the second side refers to “becoming a lion” (ἐγένου λέων).  The grade of Leo is found only in the cult of Mithras, and this ties the papyrus squarely to that cult.[4]

The second papyrus belongs to the 3rd century AD.  I know no more about this than I can find in the webpage mentioned earlier: that it was published by Vittorio Bartoletti in two sections.[5].  There is reference to ἀστέρων, indicating astral or astrological elements — rather relevant this, considering that I’ve been looking at David Ulansey’s book — and there is also the word καυτοπαυ (= Καυτοπάτου?)  or Cautopates, the name of the ancillary deity in the temples of Mithras.  There is also a reference to Serapis, interestingly.  The suggestion is that this is an oath.

This all left me wondering whether there were any Mithraea in Egypt, and if so, where.

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  1. [1]Paris Bibliothèque Nationale Suppl. gr. 574.
  2. [2]Albrecht Dieterich, Eine Mithrasliturgie, Leipzig: Teubner, 2nd enlarged edn. 1910
  3. [3]William M. Brashear, A Mithraic Catechism from Egypt. <P. Berol. 21196> (Tyche Supplementband, I.) Pp. 70; 2 plates. Vienna: Holzhausen, 1992.  There is a review of the publication by J. Gwyn Griffiths, in The Classical Review, N.S. 44.1 (1994), p.181-2. http://www.jstor.org/stable/712295
  4. [4]Griffiths adds, p.182: “It is true that Plutarch in Ch. 38 of his De Iside et Osiride says that the Egyptians honoured the constellation of the Lion and adorned the doors of temples with lions’ jaws — an allusion perhaps to the lion-shaped bolts found in late temples. While this might relate to the term λεοντίον in the papyrus, it does not suit the idea of becoming a Lion.”
  5. [5]V. Bartoletti, Papiri, Greci e Latini (= PSI) vol. X, no. 1162; and V. Bartoletti, “Frammenti di un rituale d’iniziazione ai misteri” in Annali della R. Scuoli Normale Superiore de Pisa (Pisa: 1937) 143-152.

Eusebius book update

The sales figures for last month through Amazon for Eusebius of Caesarea, Gospel Problems and Solutions, have just arrived.  Sales continue fairly level, with no evident sign of diminishing, which is good news.

The total sold through Amazon so far, since June, is 55 copies.  That includes both hard back and paper back copies, but not the ones sold directly by myself.  I’m also getting orders through the book trade, mostly from European dealers.

We’re not at breakeven point yet by any means, but the fact is that the book is selling far better than I had any reason to expect.

This is down to everyone who contributed; Nick who did the cover design and Bob who did all the typesetting and made sure it was all professional; David who translated so much of it and went through bits that I had missed and corrected them; Adam who translated all the stuff that I couldn’t get done, and transcribed the text; and Carol and her friends at UCL who did such interesting things with the Coptic.  And it is of course to all the other people that I have not mentioned, but whose role was critical.  The list of credits is a very long one!

The links to the Amazon pages are:

UK Hardback (50GBP)

UK Paperback (30 GBP)

US Hardback ($80)

US Paperback ($45)

I can’t quite imagine this book as a Christmas present, but if you can, please oblige!

Copies can also be bought direct from me through this site.

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Google or Bing? A surprising answer

From time to time I do the unthinkable.  Yes, I go into Google and search for “roger pearse”.

I’ve done this perhaps once or twice a year for many years, and I did it this evening.  I must say that I was rather surprised by what I found.

Because the content in Google was rubbish.  Yes, it brought back a handful of  things that I have done.  But it only gave 20 pages of hits — from someone who has put something online every day for the last 14 years — and most of these were of a very poor quality.  There was garbage from identity-fishing sites (which are useful as a guide to stuff we need to hide, but not otherwise), and stuff like that.  But there was very little that gave any idea of who am I or what I do.

Now of course I could just say, and truthfully, “Well, I’m not that important”.  But because I have done this before, I know that my unimportance isn’t the issue here.  The Google search results simply aren’t as good as they used to be.

As an experiment, I tried the same search on Bing.  And … instantly I got better results.  Of course many were occasional comments that I had added to blogs here or there, but in general the quality was far better.  And it remained better all the way to page 21 of results, at which point I stopped.

I’ve commented before on the poor quality of Google Books search.  It’s actually impossible to find volume N of the Journal of XYZ in there, even if it is in there.  But this evening’s experience suggests that Google’s main search engine itself is no longer much good.

In which case, isn’t it time we all moved over to Bing?

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Reading Ulansey’s “Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries”

I got David Ulansey’s book on the Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries from the library this morning, and I’m reading through it.  I’ll probably do a review once I’ve read the whole thing, but here’s some thoughts so far.   This is the first time that I have really sat down with it and tried to read it cover to cover, but I dipped into it before.

Firstly it’s a better piece of work than I recalled. The opening chapters are well done, and well referenced, and very clearly written.  The suggestion that the god in the secret cult of “Mithras” turns out to be Perseus is by no means impossible.  I was quite struck by his exegesis of the passage in Statius, the earliest literary reference to the cult:

717 ……  seu te roseum Titana vocari
Gentis Achaemeniae ritu, seu praestat Osirim
Frugiferum, seu Persei sub rupibus antri
Indignata sequi torquentem cornua Mithram.

Whether it please thee to bear the name of ruddy Titan
after the manner of the Achaemenian race, or Osiris
lord of the crops, or Mithra as beneath the rocks of the Persian cave
he presses back the horns that resist his control.

This latter passage is given by Manfred Clauss as:

Mithras ‘twists the unruly horns beneath the rocks of a Persian cave’.

Ulansey points out correctly that Persei is not the correct form of “Persian” but rather means “Persean” or “Of Perseus”; and “antri persei” could be “the cave of Perseus”.

Likewise pointing out that the 5th grade of initiation is “Perses”, which is not merely “Persian”, but also the name of the son of Perseus, and that this idea — meaning “son” — would give point to the 7th grade, “Pater”, i.e. “Father”, meaning Mithras / Perseus himself.

The “Persian” bit, then, was eyewash for outsiders; the real truth was that the cult was “Persean”.  Mithras was the “Persean god”.  I can quite imagine that this sort of pun would appeal.  The members could talk about the cult, safe in the knowledge that they were telling the truth, and that they would be totally misunderstood, and laugh about it among themselves.  The real teachings of the cult would then be based on astrology.

It’s all possible, although a certain degree of scepticism seems appropriate.  We don’t know any of this for sure, after all.  It’s just a theory to explain some of the data.

But when I got to chapter 6, I was starting to lose confidence.  It all got a bit von Daniken for me.

The Swiss maestro and former hotel-keeper used to write his books about Chariots of the Gods according to a set pattern.  He would think up his theory, and then hunt around for bits of data that could decorate them.  He would propose his theory, as a theory; and then he would introduce some bit of information; and then another, and then he would exclaim at the coincidence as proving he was right.  The fact that he had selected this material precisely because it fit the theory — there was no coincidence — was quietly ignored.

Throughout chapters 5 and 6 this old trick appeared again and again, and indeed I have just lost patience and stomped off to have a bath.  I’ll return to the book later.  It’s just speculation, not interpretation.  Not that I accuse Ulansey of deception; it’s quite likely to be self-deception.

But the problem is simply that the contortions that he gets into, to try to fit the stars in the sky into his theory, get worse and worse and worse.  You can feel the man straining.  There is not the slightest chance, in my humble opinion, that anyone devising a cult ca. 50 AD decided to represent in stone the configuration of the constellations in 2000 BC.  The fact that the precession of the equinoxes had been discovered is irrelevant; you just wouldn’t do that.  You’d make your cult myth fit what people could see up in the sky.

But it’s better than I had thought.

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Images of Perseus with a phrygian hat

Reading David Ulansey’s Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries, I was struck by the following statement on p.26:

However, in two of the earliest surviving pictures of the constellation Perseus — the Salzburg Plaque and Codex Vossianus Leidensis 79 — Perseus is shown wearing a Phrygian cap, demonstrating that this was a frequent attribute of Perseus the constellation as well as of Perseus the hero.[2]

On p.129 is the note:

2. For the Salzburg plaque, see A. Rehm and E. Weiss, “Zur Salzburger Bronzescheibe mit Sternbildern,” Jahreshefte des Österreichischen Archäologischen Instituts 6 (1903), 39; for Codex Vossianus Leidensis 79, see Georg Thiele, Antike Himmelsbilder (Berlin: Weidmann, 1898), p. 111.

I’m not sure that two examples, one of them a medieval ms., is evidence that this is a “frequent” way to depict Perseus.*  But I am always curious to check such references.

The first volume appears here:

http://wel.archive.org/details/jahresheftedes06oste

(Isn’t it remarkable how badly Google Books handles series?)  The “Scheibe” is a disc, or platter, rather than a plaque, which leads one to wonder whether Ulansey verified his reference.  Anyway on p.39 there is this a diagram, of a zodiac.  It looks as if we have just a portion of the disc.

It’s not a particularly satisfactory image, I think.  I presume the bottom bit is the reverse of the top.  The article says that the item is of unknown provenance, and came into the Salzburg museum from two unidentified worker.  It probably came from some Roman tombs in the Salzburg area.  The item was published in the same journal, plate 5, in volume 5 (1902), apparently.  This may be found here:

http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=WQ5aAAAAYAAJ

The image is on p.416 of the PDF, although for some reason I cannot export it.  So here are two screen grabs of the top and bottom of the page:

The actual publication is E. Maass, Salzburger Bronzetafel mit Sternbildung, p. 196-7 + Tafel V.  This tells us that the piece came to light in Salzburg, with a thick crust on it, and was sent to the museum in Vienna for cleaning by the conservation staff.  It is the fragment of a large circle, with the edges punched.  The find site was searched for further pieces but without result.

Antike Himmelsbilder can be found here:

http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=59wsAAAAYAAJ

It’s an interesting work, which really should have had colour images.  On p.111 we get this image:

Certainly this is an image of Perseus — the Gorgon’s head makes that clear.  The manuscript seems to contain the text of Aratus, and this is accompanied by a series of images of the constellations.  The original is in colour, of course.  The ms. is 9th century, copied from a 5th century exemplar, and various copies of it exist.

 So far, then, so good; we have depictions of Perseus without his winged hat.  I must admit, however, that Ulansey’s interpretation of this — he’s trying to show that Mithras is really Perseus — seems a little thin.

* UPDATE 29/5/15: This is a misunderstanding on my part – see the comment kindly added by David Ulansey to this post, clarifying the context – thank you.

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The translation of Methodius crashes and burns

Sometimes it just doesn’t work.  This morning I started looking through the translation of the German version of Methodius, De lepra, as given by Bonwetsch from the Old Slavonic.  The translation into English — for which I am paying commercially — just didn’t work.  The translator did not have the feel for ecclesiastical works, and so the result was unreadable.  Worse, it was ungrammatical English at points.  It made my head hurt, just looking at it and trying to work out what, if anything, it meant.

I’ve accepted the inevitable and messaged the translator to cancel the project.  I shall have to pay him for what he has done, useless tho it is.  It’s money down the drain, essentially.

Oh well.  I tried.

The first few pages were not too bad, after I commented and suggested etc.  I’ll post these here when I have handed over the money.

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Ulansey on the origins of the Mithraic mysteries

Into town bright and early, in the hope of avoiding the crowds of shoppers, and to the library to pick up David Ulansey’s Origins of the Mithraic Mysteries (1989).  Slightly nervous in case there is a later edition.  The library charged me 5.40 GBP (about $8) for the use of it for 3 weeks.

I’ve not read it yet.  But I have leafed through the opening section where he discusses the history of Mithraic studies in quite sensible terms.

I’m going to read his theory, and see what it looks like.  But I can already see one problem with the book; the footnotes have been banished to the end.  What this means is that it is impossible to read the book while verifying the claims against the notes.  How I curse publishers who do this!

Ulansey’s ideas are fringe.  But he is certainly correct to say that Mithras scholars have been taking a serious interest in possible astronomical links — when all you have is depictions on stone, the presence of the zodiac inevitably suggests there may be some!

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Vale, the Cyprian Project

Rod Letchford has written and let me know that he has taken down the Cyprian Project, and allowed its domain name to expire.  This is sad news.  But apparently the number of  visitors was too low for him to carry on.  Various snapshots of the site may be found in the WaybackWhen machine at www.archive.org.

One aspect of Rod’s site has already been missed, at least by me.  With immense labour, he compiled links to the PDF’s of the Patrologia Latina and Patrologia Graeca volumes online.   I linked to these from here, and I have always used them as my first point of reference for these things.  Now those lists are gone.

Rod has kindly allowed me to copy those files, and I have uploaded them to pages on this blog:

If anyone finds additional PDF’s, please add a note in the comment box on each page, and I will add them in.

Thank you, Rod, for the time and effort that you put into this.

I have to admit that I don’t dare look at the logs for the Tertullian Project.  I suspect that most of the material goes unvisited much of the time.  Fortunately the WordPress statistics for this blog provide enough encouragement that I continue to blog.

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A manuscript collation of Pappus of Alexandria

Via Ancient World Online I learn of something marvellous from the University of Newcastle in Australia.

The Treweek Pappus Manuscript

We are proud to provide researchers with an online copy of Emeritus Professor Athanasius (Ath) P. Treweek’s manuscript transcription and restoration of the Collection of Pappus of Alexandria (Vaticanus Graecus 218) A6617 (v) a-e [Original Manuscript] Emeritus Professor Athanasius (Ath) P. Treweek’s manuscript transcription and restoration of Vaticanus Graecus 218. The transcription (with notes) is divided across five notebooks 3r-50b; 51a-75b; 76a-100b; 101a-150b; 151a-203a.

The text was copied in 1946-1947 from a photostat of the original manuscript made in 1938-1939. It was later rechecked against the original manuscript and to Pappus of Alexandria’s original diagrams in 1949 and 1956, and against derived manuscripts to clear up doubtful points.

Professor Treweek argued that Vaticanus Graecus 218 was the basis of all extant Pappus Mss and that, accordingly, the others could be used not only to restore V218 but in so doing, to get as close as possible to Pappus’ original text.  … The notebooks are provided here as large PDFs. So you might wish to right mouse click on the link and select ‘save link as’ to download the file to your computer.

This is precisely what archives should be doing.  Who in the world knew that a handwritten transcription of Vatican manuscript gr. 218 existed, with diagrams and corrections, forming the basis for a possible new edition?  Nevermind had a copy?  Now the world can access it, and Pappus scholarship can move forward using it.  And the release is in PDF format, which is what we can all use, rather than one of these vanity force-scholars-to-use-our-website online readers!  Well done, the University of Newcastle!

Most people will have no idea who Pappus of Alexandria was.  I knew of him only as a commentator on the ancient engineer Hero of Alexandria.  Hero wrote ca. 62 AD, and I gave a bibliography of his works here.  So I thought that I would see what I could find.  More later!

Update: I find that he was a 4th century Greek mathematical writer.  I’m afraid my intention to hunt down his works rather diminished during a busy day — maybe some other time.

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Writing your own “Atheist manual and cookbook”

Via the eChurch blog I learn that secularist scholar R. J. Hoffmann is getting a little fed up with some of his atheist co-religionists.  In this post he outlines the tactics the latter employ.

The Sure-Fire Atheist Rapid Response Manual

When I wrote Atheism’s Little Idea I said atheists were small. But (and this is embarrassing to confess) I had no idea how clever.

There’s a species of ant in Papua New Guinea that is so small you need a magnifying glass to see that they’re insects and not swirling grains of sand.  But drop a crumb of cheese on the ground and an army of ten zillion will appear out of nowhere, through the floor cracks where they live invisibly, and devour the cheese before you can retrieve and pop it subtly into your mouth.  …

When the atheists had grown tired of my “endless harangues against atheism” last year they swarmed at me, Jacques Berlinerblau, and Michael Ruse all at once. We said, in different tones, that they were playing too rough, were turning people off (including fellow unbelievers) with their flatfooted tactics, and needed to behave like adults with real arguments and day jobs.

The atheist swarm may actually have eaten the other two because I haven’t heard from them in a long time.

But it was then I learned their strange language and breeding habits:  Like all small things, their safety is in numbers. One atheist alone is hardly a match for his (or her) natural enemies, the Christian Nation, the low-wattage Dims and flabby franks like me who send mixed signals about what they really believe. But one thousand atheists on a single mission can take down a faitheist, an accommodationist and a Associate Reformed Presbyterian pre-Millennialist going through a divorce in about a minute. I’ll tell you this: if Osama bin Laden had ranted about atheists and not “the West” (where is that exactly?) he would have been cheese crumbs in October 2001.

I have come to be a huge admirer of how the atheists organize for their own protection and what they are able to accomplish on a low budget.  I have wondered how this is possible ever since I was almost eaten last spring.

Most of us have been the victims of the group lynching tactic described here.

But Hoffmann goes further.  He has observed that these people behave as if they were following instructions.  And he has devised a “manual” of tactics.

Now  this made me smile indeed!  You see, I have often thought of doing the same!  Once you have observed a few atheist fora, and seen the kinds of arguments made, and the dishonest tactics deployed to beat up opposition, such a manual almost writes itself.

Hoffmann’s work is a first draft, but so often it hits the nail on the head.  A few extracts will give you a flavour of what he says.  And it’s all true! — every last word of it.

(5)  If you don’t understand the Straw Man Defense, resort immediately to one of the following:

(a) Call the enemy arrogant.  Our enemies are all arrogant or they wouldn’t be blogging against us so this is bound to work.  Words like “pompous,” “misguided,”  ”pathetically out of touch,” “incredibly uninformed” and similar expressions will work just as well.  Try to avoid “full of shit” and if you use the word “erroneous”: remember there are two r’s.  (see also spelling tips under accommodation/accomodation/akomodation).

(b)  Call the enemy ignorant. This is basic because anyone who disagrees with atheism is ignorant.  You can also use some of the same words: incredibly ignorant, unbelievably ignorant; I don’t know how you’re able to tie your shoes-ignorant.

The next one brought a wry smile to my face.  Not only atheists try this ploy, as I found out last week when I was on the receiving end of a (futile) attempt to lynch me on my own blog:

(6)  If you find that a website is “moderated” say that it violates the fundamental right of Free Speech guaranteed to atheism in the Constitution. …

How often have I heard that tired old attempt to manipulate me into allowing people to lynch me on my own personal blog?

Dr Hoffmann’s post is sane and civilised.  Indeed it has reminded me that, long ago, I had quite a bit of respect for atheists.  My own ideas about the shape of Roman paganism I owe to an atheist author whom I read from a library shelf long ago.  Likewise I was impressed with the precision thinking that I found in J. S. Mill.

But when I came online, I found something else.  I found atheism that was dishonest, abusive, and hateful.  Almost all the online atheist writing is beneath contempt.

This is not a question of disagreement about religion, but simply about honesty.  An intelligent atheist must find his co-religionists painfully embarassing.

Writing these words recalls an early online experience.  I have never forgotten encountering a post, back in 1998 or so, in some now vanished or decrepit usenet forum, by an atheist named Steven Carr, who seemed to be a student in Edinburgh or something of the kind.  It was about the apocryphal gospels, and he was trying to wear down someone talking about the bible by hitting them with factoids.  In those days I knew much less about Christian history than I do now, but even then I knew enough to see that the post was not honest, even from an atheist point of view.  It was clear to me that he was engaged in deliberate deception of someone that he believed wouldn’t know much about the apocrypha, attempting to bully with pseudo-scholarship.  I remember reading that post, and thinking to myself: “If you know enough about the history of the bible to write that lot, you know enough to know that your argument is neither fair nor an accurate representation of the facts.”

I have seen so much dishonest argument since.

I happened to see a post in a forum the other day, in response to some post of my own.  It was the same Steven Carr.  He was looking rather the worse for the 14 years that he had spent labouring for atheism.  Hate does funny things to those who indulge it.  Any pretence at reason or logic had long departed.  All he could manage was abuse.  He spat a mindless jeer in my direction, utterly irrelevant to my post.  That was all that was left of him.  He had become just a barking, rabid dog.

It is possible to be indifferent to truth, and interested only in convenience, in winning rather than being in the right.  But those who despise the right use of the intellect need not expect to enjoy the use of it for very long.

Hoffmann, it seems, has enough sanity to realise that atheists are destroying themselves.   We may commend him for this brave stand.  A principled atheism is not always a bad thing.  Superstition and priestcraft are not good things, and any student of modern Anglican affairs can find ample examples of the latter.  Christians will remember that Christ was crucified, not by atheists, but by a plot hatched by the religious authorities of the day.

Let us hope that Dr Hoffmann can achieve a revolution in atheism.

UPDATE: I have just deleted the first attempt in the comments to use this blog to attack Dr. Hoffmann for “censorship”.

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