A. The Greek Mysteries and related Cults.
Side by side in Greece with the religion which was openly professed and with the religious rites which were practised in the temples, not in antagonism to them, but intensifying their better elements and elaborating their ritual, were the splendid rites which were known as the Mysteries. Side by side also with the great political communities, and sheltered within them by the common law and drawn together by a stronger than political brotherhood, were innumerable associations for the practice of the new forms of worship which came in with foreign commerce, and for the expression in a common worship of the religious feelings which the public religion did not satisfy. These associations were known as θίασοι, ἔρανοι or ὀργεῶνες.
I will speak first of the mysteries, and then of the associations for the practice of other cults.
1. The mysteries were probably the survival of the oldest religions of the Greek races and of the races which preceded them. They were the worship not of the gods of the sky, Zeus and Apollo and Athené, but of the gods of the earth and the under-world, the gods of the productive forces of nature and of death.[595]
The most important of them were celebrated at Eleusis, near Athens, and the scattered information which exists about them has been made more impressive and more intelligible to us by excavations, which have brought to light large remains of the great temple—the largest in Greece—in which they were celebrated. It had been a cult common to the Ionian tribes, probably borrowed from the earlier races among whom they had settled. It was originally the cult of the powers which produce the harvest, conceived as a triad of divinities—a god and two goddesses, Pluto, Demeter and Koré, of whom the latter became so dominant in the worship, that the god almost disappeared from view, and was replaced by a divinity, Iacchus, who had no place in the original myth.[596] Its chief elements were the initiation, the sacrifice, and the scenic representation of the great facts of natural life and human life, of which the histories of the gods were themselves symbols.[597]
(i.) The main underlying conception of initiation was, that there were elements in human life from which the candidate must purify himself before he could be fit to approach God. There was a distinction between those who were not purified, and those who, in consequence of being purified, were admitted to a diviner life and to the hope of a resurrection. The creation of this distinction is itself remarkable. The race of mankind was lifted on to a higher plane when it came to be taught that only the pure in heart can see God. The rites of Eleusis were originally confined to the inhabitants of Attica: but they came in time to be open to all Greeks, later to all Romans, and were open to women as well as to men.[598] The bar at the entrance came to be only a moral bar.
The whole ceremonial began with a solemn proclamation: “Let no one enter whose hands are not clean and whose tongue is not prudent.” In other mysteries it was: “He only may enter who is pure from all defilement, and whose soul is conscious of no wrong, and who has lived well and justly.”[599]
The proclamation was probably accompanied by some words or sights of terror. When Nero went to Eleusis and thought at first of being initiated, he was deterred by it. Here is another instance of exclusion, which is not less important in its bearing upon Christian rites. Apollonius of Tyana was excluded because he was a magician (γόης) and not pure in respect of τὰ δαιμόνια—he had intercourse with other divinities than those of the mysteries, and practised magical rites.[600]
We learn something from the parody of the mysteries in Lucian’s romance of the pseudo-prophet Alexander. In it Alexander institutes a celebration of mysteries and torchlights and sacred shows, which go on for three successive days. On the first there is a proclamation of a similar kind to that at Athens. “If any Atheist or Christian or Epicurean has come as a spy upon the festival, let him flee; let the initiation of those who believe in the god go on successfully.” Then forthwith at the very beginning a chasing away takes place. The prophet himself sets the example, saying, “Christians, away!” and the whole crowd responds, “Epicureans, away!” Then the show begins—the birth of Apollo, the marriage of Coronis, the coming of Æsculapius, are represented; the ceremonies proceed through several days in imitation of the mysteries and in glorification of Alexander.[601]
The proclamation was thus intended to exclude notorious sinners from the first or initial ceremonial.[602] The rest was thrown upon a man’s own conscience. He was asked to confess his sins, or at least to confess the greatest crime that he had ever committed. “To whom am I to confess it?” said Lysander to the mystagogoi who were conducting him. “To the gods.” “Then if you will go away,” said he, “I will tell them.”
Confession was followed by a kind of baptism.[603] The candidates for initiation bathed in the pure waters of the sea. The manner of bathing and the number of immersions varied with the degree of guilt which they had confessed. They came from the bath new men. It was a κάθαρσις, a λουτρὸν, a laver of regeneration. They had to practise certain forms of abstinence: they had to fast; and when they ate they had to abstain from certain kinds of food.[604]
(ii.) The purification was followed by a sacrifice—which was known as σωτήρια—a sacrifice of salvation: and in addition to the great public sacrifice, each of the candidates for initiation sacrificed a pig for himself.[605] Then there was an interval of two days before the more solemn sacrifices and shows began. They began with a great procession—each of those who were to be initiated carrying a long lighted torch, and singing loud pæans in honour of the god.[606] It set out from Athens at sunrise and reached Eleusis at night. The next day there was another great sacrifice. Then followed three days and nights in which the initiated shared the mourning of Demeter for her daughter, and broke their fast only by drinking the mystic κυκεὼν—a drink of flour and water and pounded mint, and by eating the sacred cakes.[607]
(iii.) And at night there were the mystic plays: the scenic representation, the drama in symbol and for sight. Their torches were extinguished: they stood outside the temple in the silence and the darkness. The doors opened—there was a blaze of light—and before them was acted the drama of Demeter and Koré—the loss of the daughter, the wanderings of the mother, the birth of the child. It was a symbol of the earth passing through its yearly periods. It was the poetry of Nature. It was the drama which is acted every year, of summer and winter and spring. Winter by winter the fruits and flowers and grain die down into the darkness, and spring after spring they come forth again to new life. Winter after winter the sorrowing earth is seeking for her lost child; the hopes of men look forward to the new blossoming of spring.
It was a drama also of human life. It was the poetry of the hope of a world to come. Death gave place to life. It was a purgatio animæ, by which the soul might be fit for the presence of God. Those who had been baptized and initiated were lifted into a new life. Death had no terrors for them. The blaze of light after darkness, the symbolic scenery of the life of the gods, were a foreshadowing of the life to come.[608]
There is a passage in Plutarch which so clearly shows this, that I will quote it.[609]
“When a man dies, he is like those who are being initiated into the mysteries. The one expression, τελευτᾶν—the other, τελεῖσθαι, correspond.... Our whole life is but a succession of wanderings, of painful courses, of long journeys by tortuous ways without outlet. At the moment of quitting it, fears, terrors, quiverings, mortal sweats, and a lethargic stupor, come over us and overwhelm us; but as soon as we are out of it, pure spots and meadows receive us, with voices and dances and the solemnities of sacred words and holy sights. It is there that man, having become perfect and initiated—restored to liberty, really master of himself—celebrates, crowned with myrtle, the most august mysteries, holds converse with just and pure souls, looking down upon the impure multitude of the profane or uninitiated, sinking in the mire and mist beneath him—through fear of death and through disbelief in the life to come, abiding in its miseries.”
There was probably no dogmatic teaching—there were possibly no words spoken—it was all an acted parable.[610] But it was all kept in silence. There was an awful individuality about it. They saw the sight in common, but they saw it each man for himself. It was his personal communion with the divine life. The glamour and the glory of it were gone when it was published to all the world.[611] The effect of it was conceived to be a change both of character and of relation to the gods. The initiated were by virtue of their initiation made partakers of a life to come. “Thrice happy they who go to the world below having seen these mysteries: to them alone is life there, to all others is misery.”[612]
2. In time, however, new myths and new forms of worship were added. It is not easy to draw a definite line between the mysteries, strictly so called, and the forms of worship which went on side by side with them. Not only are they sometimes spoken of in common as mysteries, but there is a remarkable syncretist painting in a non-Christian catacomb at Rome, in which the elements of the Greek mysteries of Demeter are blended with those of Sabazius and Mithra, in a way which shows that the worship was blended also.[613] These forms of worship also had an initiation: they also aimed at a pure religion. The condition of entrance was: “Let no one enter the most venerable assembly of the association unless he be pure and pious and good.” Nor was it left to the individual conscience: a man had to be tested and examined by the officers.[614] But the main element in the association was not so much the initiation as the sacrifice and the common meal which followed it. The offerings were brought by individuals and offered in common: they were offered upon what is sometimes spoken of as the “holy table.” They were distributed by the servants (the deacons), and the offerer shared with the rest in the distribution. In one association, at Xanthos in Lycia, of which the rules remain on an inscription, the offerer had the right to half of what he had brought. The feast which followed was an effort after real fellowship.[615] There was in it, as there is in Christian times, a sense of communion with one another in a communion with God.
During the earliest centuries of Christianity, the mysteries, and the religious societies which were akin to the mysteries,[616] existed on an enormous scale throughout the eastern part of the Empire. There were elements in some of them from which Christianity recoiled, and against which the Christian Apologists use the language of strong invective.[617] But, on the other hand, the majority of them had the same aims as Christianity itself—the aim of worshipping a pure God, the aim of living a pure life, and the aim of cultivating the spirit of brotherhood.[618] They were part of a great religious revival which distinguishes the age.[619]