by J H Brennan
Another, more subtle link with the institutionalized spirit contacts of ancient Greece—and indeed ancient Egypt—may lie in the curious figure so often discovered in Mithraic temples that today attracts the scholarly designation of leontocephaline. The figure, as the name suggests, depicts a (naked) man with the head of a lion, often openmouthed and threatening. An enormous serpent coils around his body. In the version found in the Mithraeum at Ostia Antica there is an engraved tablet behind the figure, a caduceus and chicken at his feet. Other representations elsewhere include the figure of a god. Serpent, rooster, and dog are all symbolic companions of Asclepios, while the caduceus is associated with Mercury, messenger of the gods and guide of the dead. The Egyptian association with this near-ubiquitous figure lies in the lion head. The Egyptians typically experienced their gods as animal-or bird-headed humans, itself a curious link with ancient shamanism. There is even a lion-headed deity—Sekhmet—in the Egyptian pantheon, although unlike the Mithraic figure, she was conceived of as female.
Although the signs of spirit communication are less obvious in ancient Rome than they are in ancient Greece or Egypt, there are pointers to the possibility that such communication existed. Beyond this, there is absolute certainty that the Roman people firmly believed that spirit beings played a part in their everyday lives and went to considerable lengths to ensure their benevolence. Thus, here again, we have clear evidence of spirit influence on an ancient culture and one, in this instance, that bequeathed us the entire foundation of our Western legal system. Furthermore, if we consider the Roman empire as a whole, we find within its far-flung confines the early indications of a spirit contact that was to influence profoundly the whole of Western esoteric thought.
In 598 BCE, the Babylonian emperor Nebuchadnezzar launched a massive attack on the little kingdom of Judah. It was a grossly uneven conflict and within a year the remnant Israelite community had all but collapsed. By 597 BCE, the capital Jerusalem surrendered. But despite appearances, the war was far from over. A resistance movement sprang up and hostilities renewed. In an attempt to break the spirit of the Israelites, Nebuchadrezzar instituted a policy of mass deportation, concentrating on the brightest and best of the conquered people. Among those who joined the earliest forced marches to Babylonia was a temple priest named Ezekiel.
Ezekiel was well thought of by his fellow exiles and quickly became spiritual adviser to their leaders. He seems to have been a flamboyant character, given to grand gestures. On one occasion he ate a scroll in order to make a point. On another, he lay on the ground pretending to fight with unseen opponents. He was likely to fall on his face or be struck dumb for long periods of time. But despite these peculiarities, people took him very seriously—and with good reason. While Jerusalem was under siege, his wife became terminally ill and the force of his grief convinced him to make a grim prophecy: the city would be destroyed “and your sons and daughters whom you left behind shall fall by the sword.” All too soon his prediction came true.
The Babylonian exile left Ezekiel at Tel-abib by the river Chebar, a canal that formed part of the Euphrates irrigation system in what is now southern Iraq. On July 31, 592 BCE, he was walking on the banks of the Chebar when something quite bizarre occurred. Ezekiel later described it in his own words:
And I looked, and, behold, a whirlwind came out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire infolding itself, and a brightness was about it, and out of the midst thereof as the color of amber, out of the midst of the fire. Also out of the midst thereof came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance they had the likeness of a man. And every one had four faces, and every one had four wings. And their feet were straight feet and the sole of their feet was like the sole of a calf’s foot: and they sparkled like the color of burnished brass. And they had the hands of a man under their wings on their four sides and they four had their faces and their wings. Their wings were joined one to another they turned not when they went they went every one straight forward.
As for the likeness of their faces, they four had the face of a man, and the face of a lion, on the right side: and they four had the face of an ox on the left side they four also had the face of an eagle. Thus were their faces: and their wings were stretched upward two wings of every one were joined one to another, and two covered their bodies. And they went every one straight forward: whither the spirit was to go, they went and they turned not when they went.
As for the likeness of the living creatures their appearance was like burning coals of fire, and like the appearance of lamps: it went up and down among the living creatures and the fire was bright, and out of the fire went forth lightning. And the living creatures ran and returned as the appearance of a flash of lightning.
Now as I beheld the living creatures, behold one wheel upon the earth by the living creatures, with his four faces. The appearance of the wheels and their work was like unto the color of a beryl: and they four had one likeness: and their appearance and their work was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel. When they went, they went upon their four sides: and they turned not when they went. As for their rings, they were so high that they were dreadful and their rings were full of eyes round about them four.
And when the living creatures went, the wheels went by them: and when the living creatures were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up. Whithersoever the spirit was to go, they went, thither was their spirit to go and the wheels were lifted up over against them: for the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels. When those went, these went and when those stood, these stood and when those were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up over against them: for the spirit of the living creature was in the wheels.
And the likeness of the firmament upon the heads of the living creature was as the color of the terrible crystal, stretched forth over their heads above. And under the firmament were their wings straight, the one toward the other: every one had two, which covered on this side, and every one had two, which covered on that side, their bodies. And when they went, I heard the noise of their wings, like the noise of great waters, as the voice of the Almighty, the voice of speech, as the noise of an host: when they stood, they let down their wings. And there was a voice from the firmament that was over their heads, when they stood, and had let down their wings.
And above the firmament that was over their heads was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone: and upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness as the appearance of a man above upon it. And I saw as the color of amber, as the appearance of fire round about within it, from the appearance of his loins even upward, and from the appearance of his loins even downward, I saw as it were the appearance of fire, and it had brightness round about. As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.16
This “vision of Ezekiel,” as it came to be called, was so peculiar that several twentieth-century authors—including a former NASA engineer—decided the priest must have witnessed a spaceship landing. Generations of rabbis have disagreed. To them, Ezekiel was granted a vision of God.
The term merkava, sometimes spelled merkabah, is Hebrew for “chariot” or “throne” and has the latter translation in the passage above.17 The throne described by Ezekiel came increasingly to function as the focus of contemplation for early Jewish mystics. By 40 BCE, the year Judea became a Roman province, Jewish holy men had begun to experiment with a visionary system that would allow them to share the experience of Ezekiel. By the first century CE, Merkava mysticism was flourishing in Palestine. Six centuries later, it had not only spread to Babylonia, but centered itself there, in the home of Ezekiel’s original vision.
The mystical experience is common to all the world’s religions and is characterized by a realization of ultimate unity. But the interpretation of the experience tends to be colored by the cultural background and belief sys
tem of the individual. Thus, while a Buddhist or Hindu might speak of transcendent unity with the cosmos, a Jewish—and, indeed, Christian—mystic will often describe what has occurred as union with God. The experience itself will sometimes arise quite spontaneously, but more often it results from the application of certain techniques. While the most important of these—prayer and fasting—have religious connotations, others are more occult, with a distinct crossover between mysticism and magic.
The tzenu’im, Merkava initiates, were drawn from a select few judged to be of the highest moral caliber. They had to prepare themselves for their experience by fasting, then embarked on what was believed to be an extraordinarily dangerous visionary journey through seven “heavenly dwellings,” each one guarded by a hostile angel. It was in these heavenly dwellings that the magical element of Merkava training came into play. The initiate used specific magical formulas—referred to in Merkava literature as “seals”—in order to control, or at least placate, the guardians. It was believed that use of the wrong seal could prove fatal, or at best result in serious injury.
Once the journey through the celestial spheres was completed, these explorers of the supernatural world (Yorde Merkava) were convinced they would be granted sight of the divine throne—the same vision encountered by Ezekiel on the banks of the Chebar.
Although initially viewed with distrust by mainstream Judaism—the Talmud suggests that half of those who take the celestial journey will die or go mad—Merkava doctrines evolved over centuries to become the mystical heart of the Jewish religion. In developed form, they constitute that body of teaching now known as the Holy Qabalah. It is a body of teaching that has profoundly influenced the practice of magic and the techniques of spirit contact in the Western world right down to the present day. But it is important to note that the influence of spirit contact has not been confined to the Western world.
5. SPIRITS OF THE ORIENT
THE HINDU TERM JATI, WHICH TRANSLATES LITERALLY AS “BIRTH,” refers to a set of social groupings that have existed in India for millennia—the tenacious caste system. Although some jatis are named for specific occupations, the linkage is limited. Whatever their actual career, members of a particular caste are expected to marry within their own jati, follow its dietary restrictions, and interact with other jatis in accordance with their position in the social hierarchy. Although there are actually more than two thousand jatis, virtually all of them are assigned to one of four varnas, social groupings with specific traditional functions. These groupings are the Brahmins, the priestly caste who head the social hierarchy, followed in descending order of prestige by the Kshatriyas, or warriors, the merchant Vaishyas, and the Sudras, artisans or laborers. A fifth group, known variously as the Untouchables, Harijan (“Children of God”), or Dalit (the oppressed), exists outside the social groupings altogether. The origins of caste are lost in the depths of Indian prehistory, but some clue to its beginnings may be gleaned from the little-known claim that there was a secret system of initiation within the Brahmin varna designed to train candidates in the techniques necessary to contact spirits.
The claim was made by Louis Jacolliot, a French barrister, colonial judge, and author, who spent several years in India investigating what he believed to be the roots of Western occultism. When he published his findings in 1875, he quoted his major source of information as a Sanskrit text entitled the Agrouchada-Parikchai. At the time, the Western world was only just beginning to learn about the practice of Hinduism and the source was initially accepted without question. Later, however, scholars failed to find copies of the Agrouchada-Parikchai, decided the book was Jacolliot’s personal invention and branded him unreliable, a label that has stuck to the present day. But if the book was fictional, Jacolliot’s real sources were not. Most recent scholarship has traced the roots of his material to the Upanishads, a collection of some two hundred philosophical texts considered to be the foundation of the Hindu religion, and the massive corpus of the Brahmanical Dharmasastra, dealing with natural law and religious and legal duty. From these, and from personal experience—some of which has since been confirmed by later writers —he constructed the following picture:
According to the Manava Dharma Shastra (Laws of Manu), the ancient Vedic text that laid the foundations of domestic, social, and religious life in India:
The life of mortals, mentioned in the Veda, the desired results of sacrificial rites and the supernatural power of embodied spirits are fruits proportioned among men according to the character of the age … To Brahmanas (Brahmins) he assigned teaching and studying the Veda, sacrificing for their own benefits and for others, giving and accepting of alms.1
The text, and others similar, underpin the faith of the general populace in the Brahmin priesthood, as references to the Last Supper might underpin claims of transubstantiation by the Roman Catholic Church. That faith included a near-universal belief in spirits2 and a similar conviction that Brahmins had the power to summon, dismiss, and otherwise control them. But it would be a mistake to assume that either the spirits themselves or Brahminic powers concerning them were entirely faith based.
According to Jacolliot, there were three levels of initiation into the practice of the Brahmin priesthood. The first of these, conferred at an early age, appears to have been little more than instruction on how to conduct various religious ceremonies and sacrifices, how to comment on the Vedas, and how to engage in pastoral work among the people. But the second degree of initiation, offered only to suitable candidates who had functioned effectively in the first degree for at least twenty years, was considerably more esoteric. It included training in the evocation of spirits, exorcism, soothsaying, and prophecy, based on a study of the Atharvaveda, a Vedic text that incorporates much of India’s earliest traditions of healing and magic. Public demonstrations of the powers conferred by this initiation were commonplace.
The powers of a third-degree initiate were less often on display and were reserved for the most special of occasions. Initiates, who had to complete many years in the second degree and were thus by definition elderly, were obligated to undertake an exclusive study of all physical and supernatural forces of the universe. Their reputation in this area could scarcely have stood higher. Jacolliot quotes a popular Sanskrit saying, Dêvadinam djagat sarvam, Mandradinam ta devata, Tan mantram brahamanadinam, Brahmana mama devata, which translates as “Everything that exists is in the power of the gods, The gods are in the power of magical conjurations, Magical conjurations are in the power of the Brahmins, Therefore the gods are in the power of the Brahmins.”
Jacolliot gives a vivid description of the manifestation of these powers as part of a festival known as the Oupanayana. On the second day of celebrations, all married women among the guests were asked to go together into the forest looking for a nest of white ants. When they found one, they were required to fill ten earthen pots with earth disturbed by the insects and, on their return to their fellow guests, plant a different kind of seed in each pot and water them all from a sacred vessel. The Brahmin then covered the pots with a fine cloth and recited an invocation to the spirits requesting their manifestation through an auspicious omen. To achieve this, he held his hands above the covered pots and chanted the words Agnim Pa Patra Paryaya Paroxa eighty-one times. The words themselves seem to have little significance beyond their inherent meaning—agnim translates as “sacred fire,” pa as “holy water,” while patra means a “purified vessel,” paryaya means “magical vegetation,” and paroxa means “invisible.” Nonetheless, eyewitnesses report that the cloth began slowly to rise during the Brahmin’s chant, a visible indication that the spirits were present. The Brahmin then removed the cloth to reveal that the seeds had not only germinated but had grown into flower and fruit-bearing shrubs standing as tall as his forehead.
It has always been widely accepted in India that Brahminic abilities included authority over spirits, notably ancestral spirits. No marriage or funeral ceremony could be carried out without the evocation of
these pitris. It is probably safe to suggest that many such evocations were formalities, but it is clear from Jacolliot’s investigation that some could go far beyond empty ceremonial. His description of an evocation in the first degree shows this clearly. The rite begins in a darkened portion of the room and calls for a vase of water, a lamp, some powdered sandalwood, boiled rice, and incense. The practitioner traces magic circles before the doorway to prevent entrance by evil spirits. He then uses a series of breathing exercises to induce an ecsomatic state in which his consciousness vacates his body, allowing it to be temporarily animated by the spirits he wishes to evoke. This is, of course, a classic description of the mechanics of deep-trance mediumship during which a communicating entity may take over the body of the medium and speak using the physical larynx and vocal chords. Only the breathing exercises are missing from common Western practice. It appears, however, that Brahmin evocation techniques are more sophisticated than their Western counterparts. Having permitted a spirit to share his physical vehicle, the practitioner uses his own essence to create what Jacolliot calls an “aerial body,” which the spirit then enters in order to manifest visibly within the incense smoke. Once again, Jacolliot’s description, based on the ancient texts, leaves little doubt about what is happening:
