The View from Delphi
Rhapsodies on Hellenic Wisdom &
An Ecstatic Appreciation of Western History
by Frank Marrero, Enelysios
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Rhapsodies on the Ancient Sacred Understanding:
The Oracle at Delphi
There were ten sibyls in the ancient world, the most notable was the Pythia, the one through whom Apollo spoke timeless words at his Temple at Delphi. Nowhere was the possession of the gods more predictable or observable than watching the Sybil of Delphi be taken by the god Apollo then rave responsively to the petitions of pilgrims. The Oracle was a regularly visible mystery, an observable portal of divine descent which blessed all Hellenes.
While the miraculous and mystery have an unknowable, unexplainable dimension, mythic explanations about the Oracle do not satisfy our discursive mind. We long for a trans-mythic, discriminative and theological understanding of Western civilization's central mystery &endash; and by coming to this religious apprehension, we understand ourselves more deeply. As we traverse this Sacred Way, we will rest and dance with many
paradoxes, gnosis and mystery, immortals and mortality, possession and authenticity, being and time, madness and logical visions. Appreciating the Oracle of Delphi, we have a lens to view ancient mysteries, original theology, and the formless understanding that integrates everything.
The Oracle's awe and power was evident in the framing of laws, the founding of colonies, the making and unmaking of kings, the beginning of wars, the healing of disease and pestilence and in the personal counsel to countless individuals for almost two millennia.
The ceremony was held in such high regard that Plato acknowledge the rites and mystery at Delphi in the superlative. "For Apollo of Delphi will remain the most important, the noblest, and the chiefest acts of legislation .... the erection of temples, and the appointment of sacrifices and other ceremonies in honor of gods and demi-gods and heroes, and again the modes of burial of the dead, and all the observances which we must adopt to propitiated the denizens of the other world ... For it is this god, I presume, expounding from his seat by the Omphalos at the earth's centre who is the national expositor on such matters." (Rep. 427)
While it did not provide a political unity for the many peoples that made up the Hellenes, it did function as the unifying ground of cultural and religious understanding. The examples and prominence of oracular sayings in the history
of Hellenic destiny are well numerated, and its presence pervades mythological and literary expressions. Indeed, the keeping of dated time in the West was in Olympiad -- which, like many other historical moments, began in response to the utterance of Apollo at Delphi. (more on this on page ##)
But what was this ceremony? What do we know about the oracle itself? How do we properly understand entheos, "divine possession" -- the proposed intercourse of humans and the gods?
"Oracle" is rooted in the Latin oraculum, a place of oracles, which, in turn, is further rooted in orare, to pray or plead. But the Oracle at Delphi is not a Roman mystery, but a Hellenic one, and the Hellenic word for oracle is mantike. Mantike shares etymological ground with manna, manic, mantic, and mantis (as in praying mantis, and mantis is the ancient Hellenic word for an inspired seer, also known as "prophetes"). All of these lexiconical cousins intimate an infusion, an entheos, a spirited possession, like when a dancer becomes the music. It is most interesting to note that in all of these words this "infusion" is nuanced by madness, or the enthusiastic loss of ordinary mind. Indeed, the ravings of the Pythia were described by Plato (Phaedo 244B) as "mantike entheos."
Let us also keep in mind that the god of harmony and insight not only penetrates the Pythia at Delphi, he leads the (feminine) muses -- goddesses that emphasize the role of receptivity in the process of inspiration and creativity. In passionate and mindless submission to the Apollonian divinity of harmony and insight, the dancer, musician, poet, and oracular prophet gain the stillness that is ecstasy's fulfillment. In the mad flight of harmonic surrender, wisdom shines clear and calm, like the still eye of a great storm. It is the peace beyond all knowing, spoken of in esoteric circles as utter stillness, hesychia -- which lets, witnesses, and allows all and includes all. Stillness is present to the dark and the light, to the dance and the silence, to being and time.
By "letting be" "incubate", egkoimesis, and become profound stillness and openness, we make room for the heart in depth, we make room for the god. Stillness before inspiration, stillness before creativity, stillness before uncaused joy. Anyone who has danced freely, spoken poetically, contemplated the ground of being, or played an instrument with beauty knows the feeling of Apollo, loves the same divinity as the Oracle.
At Delphi, on the seventh day of every month, excepting the three winter months when Apollo was away, atoning for his killing the serpent (drakon), a woman would conduct an honored sacramental worship to Apollo, "the mouthpiece of Zeus". In intoxicated adoration, the Pythia became ecstatic, and, in her fullness would prophesy in response to questions. Even the greatest intellectuals of the ancient world acknowledged the greatness of Delphi's sublimity. "The raving Sybil, through the god , utters somber,. unembellished and unperfumed sayings, reaching over a thousand years with her voicer." Heraklitos proclaimed around the 70th Olympiad. (We are testament to this.) From Plato to Plutarch and Pindar to Aeschylus the praise for the Mantike at Delphi came with hearty superlatives.
From this ritual and other religious ceremonies and revelations, the recognition of a higher awareness appeared, but was often explained in mythic form, "the god took me," "the Muse took me," "Apollo came and spoke through me". (Let us recall that the Athenians called the omphallos at Delphi, "the seed of logos.") The theological explanation for the divine process superceded the merely mythic one, and from this love of wisdom, philosophy was born. From these mystic, trans-mythic descriptions of supreme being and the One reality, the Academies of the Muses were founded and beheld the Apollonian transformation of mythos into logos. Again we hear Heraklitos, "The One that is truly wise, does not and does consent to be called by the name of Zeus."
Zeus was the voice heard by mortals, as Apollo was called, "The mouthpiece of Zeus." The Pythia channeled Apollo and Apollo channeled his Bright (Zeus) father.
The Oracle or Mantike was conducted as an intoxicated wedding ceremony between the opened Pythia and messianic Apollo. As the celebration reached its acme and consummation, petitioners could cast their concerns upon her rapture, and receive reflections of their future in her ravings.
The Pythia was classically a young virgin, from the precient of Delphi, chosen by the priests of Apollo, the prophetes, not for her religious training and nor for her position in a familial lineage, but for her simplicity and depth of feeling. For her time as a bride of Apollo, she lived as a celibate renunciate in a sisterhood of Delphic women who tended the eternal sacred fire in the temple, and was cared for as a vessel awaiting the divinity.
Plutarch tells us that her retreat and preparation freed her soul from all pertebation so that she could give herself to the god without reservation. We can imagine that she would allow her body, emotions, and mind a deep rest because she knew that a clear mind and open heart would combine with divine forces of Apollo's Temple. This worship was a luminous, lightning exchange and meeting of heaven and earth, an epiphany of awe and inspiration. The full submission of the mind to invocation and openness, of the body to enjoyment, and the heart to the god would cause a miracle to appear. A clear pool of awareness, unblemished by social tensions, or distractions in body and mind, would come forth and reflect what was cast upon it as perfectly as she could surrender to the calm itself. There, immersed and stilled in beatific adoration, the god spoke in perfect reflection.
The priestess of Delphi prepared for her wedding by fasting for three days, then on the night preceding her nuptials, she slept on a bed covered with Apollo's laurel leaves, and upon arising, bathed in the cold waters of Kastalia. She dressed in purple wedding attire and empowered herself by carrying a branch of Apollo's prophetic laurel (mantis daphne) in her right hand. She drank from the spring Kassotis, then entered the Sacred Way. Opened, pure, and exhilarated, she delighted in the world's finest demonstrations of statuary and jewelry as she rose past endless masterpieces of jewelry, paintings, statuary, dedications, musicians, songs, and the laurel of pilgrims to Apollo's Temple, ready to be taken.
Breathing deeply, she rose up the ramp to the Temple floor, and looked upon the three maxims of Apollo carved upon a pillar:
KNOW THYSELF
NOTHING TO EXCESS
GO SURETY, FOR RUIN ABOUND
In hallowed solemnity, the Pythia entered the core of Apollo's Temple, the sacred adyton, her chamber, taking waters from Kastalia to purify her, and her eyes fell transfixed upon a golden Apollo, then gazed upon the tomb of Dionysus, the eternal fire, and the omphallos, altars to the Earth Ge and Poseidon and her tripod spanning the cleft in the floor. She excitedly smelled the sweet odor (eudoia) rising from the chasm (chasma).
The priests of Apollo, the Prophetes, waved small torches of herbs and incense and engaged in rituals of anointment and decoration centered around the omphallos, the "navel of the earth", the stone which gave Zeus his own birth.
Upon the hearth of Hellas, the Altar to Hestia, she ritually gave the "never dying fire" sacred offerings of herbs, leaves, barley meal, and incense. Sweet smokes combined with the sweetness of the Earth's perfume, and having completed her preparation, the Pythia mounted her three-legged throne over the sacred fissure of Mother Earth, inspiring Ge's breaths (ge pneuma), and they inspired her. She reportedly bent over the Sacred Stone, chewed a laurel leaf and inhaled the vapors that were emitted from the chasm. Intoxicated and in awe, she entered a state of ecstasy, and when questioned, uttered amazing words of truth.
These vapors rose from the intersection of two fault lines (Scientific American, July 13, 2003), and was reported to be a sweet-smelling gas, whose fumes produced exhilaration and intoxication. According to Plutarch (CE 46-120), the Pythia was like a runner after a race or a dancer after an ecstatic occasion, and that after her intercourse with Apollo, she continued in calm and peace.
Plutarch, in addition to his famed role as biographical travelogue, retired at Delphi as a priest of Apollo, a Prophetes. Indeed, he became head (epimeletes) of the Amphictyonic council during the reign of Hadrian. We are grateful to him not only because he gives us a rational point of view on the workings of the oracle, but also subjective appreciations as well. He described the interrelationship of Apollo, the Pythia, and the vapors by likening the god to a musician, the woman to his instrument and the pneuma to the plectrum with which he touched her to make her speak. But Plutarch emphasized that the pneuma was only a trigger. It was really the preconditioning of the chosen woman that made her capable of responding
to exposure to Earth's sacred breath. An ordinary person could detect the smell of the gas without passing into an oracular trance. (Scientific American, July 13, 2003)
Only the sacred woman would conduct the god, if the god would give his assent. That willingness to come was determined by the nervous system of a sacrificial goat. Oracle priests brought a live goat-kid beside the Pythia and sprinkled it with cold water. If the kid shivered from the cold water it was taken as a strong sign that it would be an auspicious day for divination, and smiles broke across every face. The goat-kid was taken outside and sacrificed for a holy meal to show the crowds that the god had smiled upon the day.
Perhaps the goat's spirit was not lost. In her expanded state, the priestess could absorb the spirit of the goat's quiver up her own excited nervous system. Her charged spine would indicate that the Python, slain by the arrows of Apollo, was now resurrected as the Pythia--whose expanded and harmonious nervous system could resonate in concert to the lyre of Apollo. She was animal, human, and divine, a threefold epiphany, and all the goddess cultures which preceded her sang through her as men, cities, and empires bowed to her counsel, or suffered their own choices and myopia.
Whoever wished to consult the Oracle was obliged to pay a tax, the telono, which gave him the right to approach the great altar of Apollo to offer sacrifices (boars, goats or bulls). It was duly noted that the gift of the god was preceded by the gifts and gratitude from the people. The ceremony was an exchange, a relationship, not merely magic or solitary comprehension.
Petitioners stepped into the ante-room with great gratitude and sobriety. For the Pythia's words were clear: "Stranger, if pure of soul, enter into the sanctuary of the god of purity, having but touched the sacred stream. For lustration is an easy matter for the good. As for the wicked man, not the whole ocean with its waves could wash him clean."
The Prophetes, Priests of Apollo, Interpreters and Keepers of the Mantike, surrounded her, anointed the omphallos with ceremonial oils, served her in song and chant in her marriage to Apollo, so that she may respond to questions with his divine words. Through their combined devotion, ritual sacraments, and mutual awe, the marriage ceremony came to its consummation as the purpled-attired bride let herself fully go. And yet, she reached over, grasped a woolen thread around the omphallos to her left, for in her right hand she still held Apollo's aromatic laurel branch. Relinquishing all else, with deep breaths she gave herself like a lover entirely to the service of the god.
Petitioners stood just outside the adyton (lit. no entry) in an ante room, where the smells and sounds of the earth's center could nevertheless be closely appreciated. They were to wait in gratitude, aligned to the truth. For "the temples of the gods are thrown open to all good people, nor is there any need of purification. No defilement can ever touch virtue. But whoso is baneful of heart, withdraw; for the washing of the body will never cleanse the soul."
The adyton, the sacred chamber, was protected like a bridal suite, and only those of sacred intent and training were allowed within. Once the Pythia was fully ecstatic and possessed, a Prophetes relayed to her the questions of petitioners, to which the Pythia, opened to the son of Zeus, raved responses. These anointed words, chresmon logos, were interpreted by the Prophetes, recorded, and passed back to the questioner.
Except for a brief moment during an invasion, the "eternal fire" was kept burning continuously for almost 1600 years, regularly re-lighting every other Temple in the land and lighting the fires of 1000 new colonies. We can assume that Delphi's ceremonial intoxication as an avenue to inspirational wisdom informed the Hellenes for at least that long, and there is archeological evidence and lore that supports a much longer worship.
Certainly, the enigmatic nature of the "anointed words" contributed to its prophetic significance. "The divine one whose oracle is in Delphi speaks neither directly or obscurely, but gives a sign," Heraklitos emphasized. But there is more to such a ceremony than enigma and myth, it begets a clear understanding, the plain words of a divinity. While Delphi was not always free of corruption, it behooves us to look upon the Mantike's great legacy to get our own first hand view of its divine character.
Fortunately, set collections of the oracles existed in ancient times, none of which survive, but are quoted from extensively. What follows are a few ancient tales and the poesy of beloved Pindar.
*****
As theology's rationalism began to have its widespread influence upon the land, the Oracle continued to "prove itself" to emerging rational minds. Two reports of Herodotus addressed this concern for validity.
Two gentlemen were walking up the Sacred Way, confessing their own doubts about the reality of the Oracle ceremony, but coming there for advice nevertheless. As they entered the ante-room, the Pythia screamed out, before they could ask their question, "I know the number of the sands and the dimensions of the sea / I understand the mute, and hear those who do not speak. / Into my head comes the shell of the strong-shelled tortoise." (Herodotus, 1.47.3).
It was said that King Croesus of Lydia wanted to test the veracity of the renown oracles, Delphi, Dodona, Branchidae, Zeus Ammon, Trophonius and Amphiaraus. He sent emissaries simultaneously to each of the holy sites, and they were to petition each oracle on the hundredth day from their departure as to the present activity of King Croesus. He spent that day boiling "the hard-shelled tortoise and the flesh of a lamb, with brass above and bath below." Four oracles failed. Amphiaraus told an excelled approximation, but the Pythia, reports Herodotus, not only knew the answer, but knew the question and gave the response in details as soon as the Lydian emissaries entered the temple. The pleased king responded with rich gifts.
King Croesus, having convinced himself that he could trust Delphi's ceremony, then asked the Mantike what would happen if he went to war with Cyrus. The oracle gave the famous replied, "Croesus by crossing the Halys would destroy a mighty kingdom." The ambiguity of the prophesy was not seen by the arrogant King and he followed his own hubris, did go to war with Cyrus, and indeed a great kingdom fell, his own.
Equally famous was the interpretation by Themistocles of the Pythia's "...wide eyed Zeus gives to the Triton-born a wooden wall to be alone impregnable .... thou shalt yet live to fight another day... O Salamis divine...." Themistocles interpreted "the wooden walls" to refer to ships, and counselled the Athenians to prepare for a fight at sea. "Divine Salamis" proved to be the salvation of Hellas, and the Athenians offered the first fruits of that battle to Delphi.
Perhaps the most celebrated historical person at Delphi was the immortal Pindar. Indeed, while Pindar lived, the Mantike bade the Delphians that equal share of all the first-fruits offered to Apollo should go to the great poet, and a permanent chair was installed for him to sit in and recite his poems when he visited. In return, like generations of great poets, Pindar sang praises to gods and men, to victors in the Pythian Games, to Kings. Fortunately, we can drink in a bit of Pindar's Pythian Odes, imagining the words of the Master poet ringing with depth and vision.
Golden lyre,
rightful joint possession of Apollo and the violet-haired Muses,
to which the dance-step listens,
the beginning of splendid festivity,
and singers obey your notes
whenever, with your quivering strings,
you prepare to strike up chorus-leading preludes.
You quench even the warlike thunderbolt of everlasting fire.
And the eagle sleeps on the scepter of Zeus,
relaxing his swift wings on either side ...
King of birds;
you pour down a dark mist over his curved head,
a sweet seal on his eyelids.
Slumbering, he ripples his liquid back,
under the spell of your pulsing notes.
Even powerful Ares,
setting aside the rough spear-point,
warms his heart in repose.
your shafts charm the minds even of the gods,
by virtue of the skill of Leto's son and the deep-bosomed Muses.
*****
Grant that we may be pleasing to you, Zeus,
you who frequent this mountain,
this brow of the fruitful earth,
whose namesake city near at hand was glorified by its renowned founder, when the herald at the Pythian racecourse proclaimed the name of Aetna, announcing Hieron's triumph with the chariot.
Muse,
hear me,
and beside Deinomenes sing
loud praises for the reward of the four-horse chariot.
The joy of his father's victory is not alien to him.
Come,
let us devise a friendly song for the king of Aetna.
*****
For seafaring men,
the first blessing at the outset of their voyage
is a favorable wind;
for then it is likely
that at the end as well they will win a more prosperous homecoming.
And that saying, in these fortunate circumstances,
brings the belief that from now on
this city will be renowned for garlands and horses,
and its name will be spoken amid harmonious festivities.
Phoebus,
lord of Lycia and Delos,
you who love the Kastalian spring of Parnassus,
may you willingly put these wishes in your thoughts,
and make this a land of fine men.
*****
All the resources for the achievements of mortal excellence
come from the gods;
for being skillful,
or having powerful arms,
or an eloquent tongue.
As for me, in my eagerness to praise that man,
I hope that I may not be like one who hurls the bronze-cheeked javelin, which I brandish in my hand,
outside the course,
but that I may make a long cast, and surpass my rivals.
Would that all of time may,
in this way,
keep his prosperity and the gift of wealth
on a straight course,
and bring forgetfulness of troubles.
*****
If you speak in due proportion,
twisting the strands of many themes into a brief compass,
less blame follows from men.
For wearying satiety blunts the edge of short-lived expectations,
what the citizens hear secretly weighs heavy on their spirits,
especially concerning the merits of others.
Nevertheless, since envy is better than pity, do not abandon fine deeds! Steer your men with the rudder of justice;
forge your tongue on the anvil of truth:
*****
If even a small spark flies,
it is carried along as a great thing
when it comes from you.
You are the guardian of an ample store.
You have many faithful witnesses of both good and bad.
But abide in a blossoming temper,
if you are fond of always hearing sweet things spoken of you,
do not be too distressed by expenses,
but, like a steersman, let your sail out to the wind.
Do not be deceived, my friend, by glib profit-seeking.
The loud acclaim of renown that survives a man
is all that reveals the way of life
of departed men to storytellers and singers alike.
*****
The oracle at Delphi was consulted and highly honored by our Hellenic ancestors for almost two thousand years. It was the exalted voice from the center of the world, a place of access to the divine domain. But neglect and Christianity caused the pagan temples to fall into disrepute and silence. Julian attempted to revive the ancient Greek life and religion and sent his doctor and best friend, Oribasus, to Delphi, to try and invoke the Oracle again. Indeed, Apollo spoke prophesy once more, but only to announce its own end. "Tell the fair king," said the Pythia, "to earth is fallen the deft-wrought dwelling/ no longer hath Phoebus shelter, or prophetic laurel/, or speaking fountain/ yea, the speaking water is quenched." Such was the last utterance of the Oracle, the death song the ancient religion.
Let us not continue to dismiss such avenues of renown just because of the use of intoxicants. Let us note: While a few intoxicants held sacramental importance in our sacred history, our forerunners were balanced in the freedoms of pleasure by their love of wisdom. The non-sacred use of certain "potions", pharmakon, ambrosia, pneumas, and "nectars" was highly taboo. Because of their frequent use in the journey to the underworld, hades, "the unseen," only a holy use of these intoxicants was wisely and socially permitted. When this law is violated and the sacrament abused, the profane are often captured by hades and litter the streets in delusion.
Intoxicants have an intimate place, but not a primary significance, in the sacred practices of western civilization, both at Eleusis and Delphi, as well as in many cultures all over the world, in every time. Plutarch made the point that it wasn't the pneuma but the devoted preparation that made the divinity appear. Sacramental use of intoxication such as at Delphi are to be understood, neither believed and exploited, nor doubted and discarded. It is the fool in every culture who confuses the sacrament and divinity. (And it is a greater fool who proclaims there is no infinity.)
Certainly, we must not confuse sacrament and divinity, just like we must discern truth and fact. Facts are like myths, they are only partial forms. The truth stands out as formless and form, unreasonable and perfectly logical, in everything and in nothing. Soberly and drunkenly, we need only come to a clear invocation of the joy at the core of everything and give up everything for This.
PrefaceAcknowledgments Introduction: The Forms of Delphi
Mythological and Historical Accounts of Delphi, the Center of the World
The Ecstatic Dance of Apollo and Dionysus
Rhapsodies on the Ancient Sacred Understanding: The Oracle at Delphi
The Caduceus, “Temple Sleep,” and the Religious Origins of Western Medicine
Orpheus, The Katha Upanishad, and the Secret Way Beyond Death