My Most Heretical Thought

Heresies

This is a speculation which I sometimes indulge in. I call it my most heretical thought, because I imagine both Christians and pagans finding it annoying.

I posted a link yesterday to an interview with an occult author who believes he has found "Neoplatonic survivals" in the Hagia Sophia which demonstrate that this most famous church of Christendom is truly a temple of Saturn. I think that he overstates his case and misunderstands certain aspects of Neoplatonism, but the interview is very interesting for all that, and he reveals some details which seem astonishing to the 21st century listener, such as the fact that one of the designers of Hagia Sophia was a student of none other than Proclus of Lysias.

There are other elements of Neoplatonism to be seen in Catholic and Orthodox worship. Now, many of these are known; St. Augustine was profoundly influenced by Plotinus; St. Dionysius the Areopagite was probably a student of Proclus who pretended to have been a student of St. Paul; and so on. No one denies these things, and, only recently, it was common to acknowledge and to celebrate them. (The discussion between Bishop Maximos and John Vervaeke, which continues here, suggests that this acknowledgement is making a come back in our time, and we will all be the better for it.)

But if you look closely, it's possible to see other, hidden, survivals of Neoplatonic philosophy and practice in traditional Christian worship. Let me give two examples:

1. Easter is always celebrated on the Day of the Sun, while the Sun is in the sign of his Exaltation (Aries) and separating from an opposition to the Moon. Oh, and in addition to being the Exaltation of the Sun, Aries is also the sign specifically dedicated to the gods, and the gate through which they enter the world, according to Porphyry.

Proclus writes that the Demiurge-- that is to say, the God who created the visible universe-- especially constitutes the Sun among the planets, so that the visible Sun, itself a god in its own right, is also an image of the Demiurge. He tells us the identity of hte Demiurge: it is none other than Jupiter, the king of the Gods and son of Saturn.

2. According to an interview I listened to many years ago by an American priest, the clergy in an Orthodox church always move counter-clockwise. The meaning of black-clad clergy moving counterclockwise around a temple would have been immediately apparent in the ancient world. Black is the color of Saturn, the Father of Jupiter. And the counterclockwise movement? That has a very particular meaning.

According to the fable narrated in Plato's Statesman, the day will come when the Sun will stand still and then begin to move backwards, rising in the West, setting in the East-- in other words, moving counterclockwise. On that day, Jupiter will step down from his thrown, and Saturn will return to his seat of power and rule the universe directly. On Earth, the Dead will rise up from their graves, and the gods will descend and live among us. And the Golden Age will come again. We will grow young, instead of growing old with time, and there will be no war or killing, and the Earth will give up her fruits without struggle. To move counterclockwise, against the Sun, clad in black and invoking the Father of the Creator-God, is quite simply to invoke the Golden Age and bring it down to Earth, at least for a time.

Saturn the Terrible
 

But wait-- I hear you say-- Wasn't Saturn that creepy cannibal who ate his children? And didn't Jupiter overthrow Saturn and bind him with chains? Doesn't that suggest that they don't really like one another?



Well, yes, and no.

Many people are aware of the famous-- or infamous-- passage in Plato's Republic, in which poets, especially Homer, are to be either censored or banned outright. Plato is often condemned for this sort of thing, but his reasons are clear. In the Republic specifically-- leave aside his discussions of the poets in other dialogues-- he is at pains to remove any poetic description of the Gods, or Heroes (sons of Gods) in which they are shown to act in ways that are evil or which might inspire evil or vicious behavior in a listener.

Then, although we are admirers of Homer, we do not admire the lying dream which Zeus sends to Agamemnon; neither will we praise the verses of Aeschylus in which Thetis says that Apollo at her nuptials

 

‘Was celebrating in song her fair progeny whose days were to be long, and to know no sickness. And when he had spoken of my lot as in all things blessed of heaven he raised a note of triumph and cheered my soul. And I thought that the word of Phoebus, being divine and full of prophecy, would not fail. And now he himself who uttered the strain, he who was present at the banquet, and who said this—he it is who has slain my son.’

 

These are the kind of sentiments about the gods which will arouse our anger; and he who utters them shall be refused a chorus; neither shall we allow teachers to make use of them in the instruction of the young, meaning, as we do, that our guardians, as far as men can be, should be true worshippers of the gods and like them.

And

 

Then we will once more entreat Homer and the other poets not to depict Achilles, who is the son of a goddess, first lying on his side, then on his back, and then on his face; then starting up and sailing in a frenzy along the shores of the barren sea; now taking the sooty ashes in both his hands and pouring them over his head, or weeping and wailing in the various modes which Homer has delineated. Nor should he describe Priam the kinsman of the gods as praying and beseeching,

 

‘Rolling in the dirt, calling each man loudly by his name.’

 

Still more earnestly will we beg of him at all events not to introduce the gods lamenting and saying,

 

‘Alas! my misery! Alas! that I bore the bravest to my sorrow.’

 

But if he must introduce the gods, at any rate let him not dare so completely to misrepresent the greatest of the gods, as to make him say—

 

‘O heavens! with my eyes verily I behold a dear friend of mine chased round and round the city, and my heart is sorrowful.’
 

The meaning of all this and its solution will become clear as we consider Plato's discussion of the myths associated with Saturn in particular:

 

First of all, I said, there was that greatest of all lies in high places, which the poet told about Uranus, and which was a bad lie too,—I mean what Hesiod says that Uranus did, and how Cronus retaliated on him. The doings of Cronus, and the sufferings which in turn his son inflicted upon him, even if they were true, ought certainly not to be lightly told to young and thoughtless persons; if possible, they had better be buried in silence. But if there is an absolute necessity for their mention, a chosen few might hear them in a mystery, and they should sacrifice not a common (Eleusinian) pig, but some huge and unprocurable victim; and then the number of the hearers will be very few indeed.

 

Why, yes, said he, those stories are extremely objectionable.

 

Yes, Adeimantus, they are stories not to be repeated in our State; the young man should not be told that in committing the worst of crimes he is far from doing anything outrageous; and that even if he chastises his father when he does wrong, in whatever manner, he will only be following the example of the first and greatest among the gods.

And so we see that, for Plato, the trouble with these sorts of stories is precisely that they make the gods look evil, and that young or uneducated people, who see myths are literal descriptions of historical events, may then see themselves as justified in committing evils. Notice, though, that he doesn't actually ban the myths outright: "A chosen ew might hear them in a mystery, and they should sacrifice... some huge and unprocurable victim; and then the number of hearers will be few indeed."

In other words: Such myths are to be used only in ritual, by initiates of a mystery school. The uninitiated are to know nothing of them, but are to see God as good.

The Father of the Gods

Let us suppose the following to be true:

• There is a creator God, through whom all things were made.

• The creator-God can be understood as the Son of a Father-God, who abides beyond the created world.

• There is a Golden Age which will come again either in historical time or (more likely) in a time beyond time as we understand it, in which the spirits of the Dead will dwell with the Father and the lesser divine beings.

And let us also assume the following to be true:

• The nature and activity of the Gods is expressed allegorically through myth, but

• Many myths seem to depict obscene or evil behavior on the part of the Gods, and

• Most people take the myths about the Gods literally.

Suppose that all of this were the case, and suppose that you came across a different set of myths, one which didn't depict the Gods as occasionally evil, or fearful, or quarrelsome, but rather as good-- All Good, superlatively good? A set of myths that would be suitable for anyone to read, regardless of their station in life?

Now it does not matter for this speculation whether the myths in question happened to also relate true historical events as they happened or nearly as they happened. That's not the point; they aren't being considered as works of journalism, but as myths.

Would it not make sense, in such a situation, to adopt the better myths, and hide the old ones away? Might it not then be that traditional Christianity seems, under the surface, to invoke Saturn (the Father) and Jupiter (the Son) because that's exactly what it's doing? Perhaps the Father is the Father, regardless of the name; and the Son is the Son. And it's also just possible that those who designed the sacraments of the Christian Church knew exactly what they were doing, and had in mind just the passages from Plato that I quoted above when they were doing it.

But again, all of this is speculative. You might take it seriously, but please don't take it literally; it could be wrong down to the details.