London's Mithraeum Liturgy

On the evening of Thursday 17 May 2018, just over a week from the date of this post I, Caroline Lawrence, will be meeting with children aged 8-12 (and their guardians) at an ancient Roman underground temple: London’s Mithraeum. This will be the first #MuseumsAtNight hosted by the Mithraeum at Bloomberg Space, which only opened to the public last year. 

I will be doing some fun interactive activities with the children to prepare them for the Immersive Experience on the site of London’s Mithraeum, now back in its original place. (If you want to see what I’ll be doing with the kids, check out my blog post: Interactive Mithras.) 

Mithraism was a mystery cult that arose in Rome (or possibly the coast of Turkey) in the middle of the first century AD, around the same time as Christianity. Unlike Christianity, Mithraism was a mystery cult and by definition kept its rites and rituals secret. There were no scriptures so almost everything we know about it is guesswork based on archaeological evidence and a few peripheral literary sources, some of them hostile. 

The god Mithras seems to have had elements of the Indo-Iranian god Mithra (without an S), but with added qualities from other deities. Like Serapis and Sulis Minerva, he was syncretistic, i.e. a hybrid god, one to be added to hundreds of others.

If the symbol of Christianity is the cross, the symbol of Mithras was a very complicated scene of the god stabbing a bull while surrounded by signs of the Zodiac and other heavenly figures, including two torchbearers called Cautes and Cautopates, possible threshold guardians to the Gates of Heaven. Also crowded into the scene were creatures such as a dog, a snake, a raven and a scorpion. 

Trying to reconstruct the rites, rituals and beliefs of Mithras based on this mysterious image would be like someone trying to reconstruct Christianity based on the image of a crucified man along with accounts of a few of his miracles. 

One theory is that Mithras was a god who created the world by slaying a cosmic bull. (However the word ‘tauroctony’, i.e. ‘bull-slaying’, does not appear anywhere in antiquity.)

Another theory is that the bull represents evil which cannot be destroyed, only disabled, and that the stabbing is an apotropaic attempt to weaken its power and bring some good out of it. 

The definitive book on Mithras

However there are also scenes of Mithras and the sun-god Sol enjoying a banquet on a bull’s skin, so it seems the first theory is more plausible, though the bull-stabbing did also seem to have apotropaic powers. 

Unlike almost every other religion known to us, Mithraism was only open to men. The small, exclusively male congregations met not in a temple but in an underground space designed to partly resemble a cave. In fact the use of the word ‘mithraeum’ is nowhere attested. Instead we find references to ‘Caves of Mithras’. 

Another of the aspects we can be fairly sure of is that there was a hierarchy of different grades in this Mystery Cult. The idea of rising by promotion would have been a familiar one to soldiers and male citizens of the Roman Empire.

We believe there were seven grades of initiation ranging from Raven to Father. Each grade had its own name, ruling planet, colour, attributes and possibly even noises. The aim of moving from grade to grade was possibly to achieve immortality of the soul by ascending through the seven heavenly spheres of purification or knowledge. 

A fascinating mosaic showing the grades by attributes can be seen on one of Ostia’s seventeen Mithraea, named after Felicissimus, who dedicated the mosaic. 

The seven grades, from lowest to highest, were these: 
(Latin name – English – governing planet – colour – attributes)
Corax – Raven – Mercury – Black – raven, beaker, caduceus
Nymphus – Bridegroom – Venus – Yellow? – lamp, diadem
Miles – Soldier – Mars – Orange? – sling, helmet, spear
Leo – Lion – Jupiter – Red – thunderbolt, sistrum, fire spade
Perses – Persian – Moon – White? – crescent moon, dagger
Heliodromus – Sun-Runner – Sun – Gold – torch, crown, whip
Pater – Father – Saturn – Purple – Persian cap, staff, sickle

Pictoral evidence hints that each grade could only be achieved by enduring a humiliating and frightening initiation. This often involved the initiate being stripped, blindfolded and threatened with death. Following the initiation of a new member the followers of Mithras would celebrate a banquet, an important part of the brotherhood as the layout of over four hundred Caves of Mithras show. 

The Mithraic feast by Judith Dobie, snapped at the Museum of London

A tantalising find concerning Mithras is a possible liturgy written on the walls of the Santa Prisca Mithraeum at Rome. 

For those of you who have studied Latin, (children included), I thought it would be fun to publish the Latin liturgy created especially for London’s Mithraeum by Roger Tomlin, the brilliant scholar who has translated many of the Vindolanda and Bloomberg tablets, ancient Roman documents that have defeated mere mortals.

Roger has replicated a possible liturgy based on the graffiti from the Santa Prisca Mithraeum. 

What follows are Latin phrases that sharp-eared visitors to London’s Mithraeum might ‘overhear’ when they descend to the ancient temple for the Immersive Experience. The one word you might not recognise is Nama. This is the Persian word for ‘Hail!’ and the Sanskrit word for ‘I bow’, still used today by everyone who takes a yoga class when they say, Namaste: ‘I bow to you’ or ‘I thank you’.  

London’s Mithraeum Liturgy 

(spoiler alert: don’t read this if you want the immersive experience to be a surprise)

[The lights in the Mithraeum go down and there is silence for a moment. Then the sound of a door creaking open and footsteps. Men greet one another. The splash and trickle of water. Footsteps on gravel. The haunting sound of a horn blares out.] 

[PATER] Nama Coracibus, tutela Mercurii 
Hail to the Ravens, under the protection of Mercury  

[RAVENS] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni  
Hail to the Father, under the protection of Saturn

[sistrum joins the horn]

[PATER] Nama nymphis, tutela Veneris
Hail to the Bridegrooms, under the protection of Venus

[drums join the horn]

[BRIDEGROOMS] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni   
Hail to the Father, etc. 

[drum, horn, rattles]

[PATER] Nama Militibus, tutela Martis
Hail to the Soldiers, under the protection of Mars

[RESPONSE] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni

[PATER]  Nama Leonibus , tutela Iovis   
Hail to the Lions, under the protection of Jove

[drum, horn, rattles]

[RESPONSE] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni

[PATER] Nama Persis, tutela Lune  
Hail to the Persians, under the protection of the Moon  

[RESPONSE] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni

[the men’s voices are getting louder and louder]

[PATER] Nama Heliodromis, tutela Solis  
Hail to Helios’ couriers, under the protection of the Sun  

[RESPONSE] Nama Patri, tutela Saturni

[PATER] Nama Patribus ab oriente ad occidentem, tutela Saturni 
Hail to the Fathers, from east to west [lit. from rising to setting sun], under the protection of Saturn.

[RESPONSE] Nama Patribus! Et patri nostro 
Hail to the Fathers and to Our Father
Silvano et Pontifici, tutela Saturni
and priest Silvanus, under the protection of Saturn

Nama Patribus, Nama Patribus!

[drumming and rattling reaches a crescendo then the trill of a single flute. Sound of men eating, laughing, clink of cutlery, glugging of wine… The sound of a spoon tapping a glass beaker for attention]

Honesti, socii, propinemus!
Gentlemen, companions, a toast! 

Mithras quoque miles, robora nos ad diem,
Mithras, also a soldier, give us strength for the day!
Roma regit populos, rex tu tamen omnium.
Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!

Nama Mithras! Nama Mithras! 

[Everyone cheers]

[Partly muffled by banter, the Father utters final prayers]

Mithras, salva nos... orare… nocturnos… 
placatos… vias multas fecisti (?)

[We hear solitary footsteps receding…then the creak of hinges, the slamming of a door and…
… the wind, the universal sign of abandonment and desolation.]

And when the lights come on again you are in for a surprise!

Roman Mysteries author Caroline Lawrence is currently working on a book involving a 12-year-old Londoner named Alex Papas, a time portal in London’s Mithraeum and the bones of a 14-year-old girl from Africa who died in 3rd century Londinium. The working title is Ways to Die in Londinium. Caroline will be brainstorming ideas and doing a reading from this work in progress at London’s Mithraeum on the evening of Thursday 17 May 2018. Book your FREE place HERE. 

From the Sketchbook: A Storytelling of Ravens

By Teresa Flavin

Elizabeth Bird, who blogs for the excellent School Library Journal, recently wrote this entertaining post about the growing number of ravens appearing in this year’s young adult books. Since the cover of my first novel, The Blackhope Enigma, features a cackling raven, it qualifies for what Elizabeth tagged a “weirdo trend”.

Now I’m no goth, but this is a weirdo trend I’m pleased to be associated with. I am a corvid fan. I spent hours cutting out big raven silhouettes for Blackhope’s UK book launch last summer and the real star of the show that evening was a pretty menacing stuffed raven. I have even been tempted to get some black feather wings to wear at events, but after reading Caroline Lawrence’s post on Tuesday, I’ll defer that decision!

I don’t know anyone who is neutral about ravens. They seem to be on a par with bats, snakes and spiders. Even an “unkindness”, the collective noun for ravens, is darkly evocative. A comment on Elizabeth’s blog post said that a “storytelling of ravens” is also used; if we add a “murder of crows” to the mix, we get an insight into people’s uneasy attitude towards corvids.

It’s hardly surprising, considering the raven is large, black, feeds on carrion and is therefore linked with the battlefield and the gallows. This bird is so intelligent, it is known to hunt cooperatively with man’s ancient enemy, the wolf, to secure its food. Ravens communicate in a complex set of sounds with a distinctive voice. Humans have long believed they possess the gift of clairvoyance and have even imagined ravens as witches’ familiars. It’s a bad omen to kill a raven.

Before coming to Scotland I was acquainted with the Native American depiction of Raven as a world-creating, shape-shifting trickster god, who can alternate between being deceitful and greedy or wise and heroic. In a Tlingit tale I once illustrated, Raven gives counsel to humans who later suffer consequences when they ignore his advice.

I learned that in European mythology, ravens act as messengers or guides, and sometimes a deity will appear in their guise. The Norse god, Odin, is accompanied by two ravens, Huginn and Muninn (“Thought” and “Memory”), who fly around the world and bring back news. Two wolves also accompany Odin, nicely echoing their connection with ravens in the wild. The Roman historian, Tacitus, linked Odin (and his Anglo-Saxon counterpart, Woden), with the messenger god, Mercury. Woden, Mercury and his Greek equivalent, Hermes, were all psychopomps, guides of souls to the afterlife. Certain animals were also considered to be psychopomps, including ravens. In my charcoal drawing above, the raven is in an imaginary night landscape, perhaps on the lookout for souls!

The Blackhope Enigma has an enigmatic late Renaissance painter-magician at its centre. I named him Fausto Corvo, the Raven, as he is a guide of souls to the living underworlds of his own magical paintings. Ravens act as his lookouts and messengers within the under-paintings, whose imagery is inspired by the Greco-Roman myths that Renaissance artists often depicted. Corvo has been able to create these worlds, in which he has hidden ancient secrets of the universe, because he is an adept at astral magic. This is a “natural” magic that purports to draw down the power of heavenly bodies. Belief in a hidden realm of angelic spirits who influence earthly matters was common in the sixteenth century; magicians who understood these stellar powers and were able to control them would seemingly be able to work wonders. A magician like Corvo, who is also an astounding artist, is a potent force indeed.

Renaissance adepts would be familiar with astrology and alchemy in ancient texts attributed to a supposedly historical figure from Hellenistic Egypt, Hermes Trismegistus (“Hermes the Thrice-Great”). He was actually a combination of Hermes and the Egyptian god, Thoth, also a psychopomp; both gods ruled magic and writing. The Hermetica, as well as other manuscripts and grimoires translated by European scholars of that time, covered not only philosophical matters, but gave instruction on how to work magic. I was particularly fascinated by esoteric spells to animate statues and control images; these would work very well for Fausto Corvo.

Ravens even appear in puzzling alchemical illustrations inspired by Hermetic writings, such as this one made by Michael Maier in 1618. Each phase in the process of creating the Philosopher’s Stone was symbolised by a bird; ravens stood for nigredo, or putrefaction, when all ingredients were cooked into black matter. The sediment at the bottom of the alchemist’s retort was called the “raven’s head” and when it began to turn white, the material was said to be entering albedo (white) or “swan” phase, followed by the “peacock” (many colours) and then rubedo (red), the “phoenix”. Once again, the raven is key to a transformational journey and a rich source of inspiration for stories and images.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the Tower of London’s resident ravens. The Tower was once their hunting ground because it had fresh prisoners’ corpses to feed upon. Rather than being chased off, the ravens were allowed to stay. A legend, allegedly harking back to King Charles II, warns that if the Tower’s ravens are lost or fly away, the kingdom will fall. Six ravens and one reserve are kept in the Tower at all times to protect it and the Crown. Apparently they are even enlisted as soldiers of the kingdom and can be dismissed for unsatisfactory behaviour. The flight feathers of one wing are clipped to keep the ravens from absconding, but aside from this, these celebrity ravens seem royally treated. According to the Tower’s Ravenmaster, they are not only fed on fresh fruit and cheese, and the choicest meats from Smithfield Market, but on occasional road-kill and biscuits soaked in meat blood.

Even in royal surroundings, the raven reminds us of a bloody past and the dark side of nature’s cycles. Humans need such talismans to explore our own shadow sides. If we do not grapple with darkness, we cannot undergo our own transformations and discover the light.

To celebrate The Blackhope Enigma’s US publication this week by Candlewick Press, Teresa will be hosting a competition to win a large hand-cut silhouette of the raven on its cover. For more information on this and other prizes, visit her Facebook page. The Blackhope Enigma is published in the UK by Templar Publishing.