A. The Woman Clothed with the Sun and Pagan Mythology

Despite everything the Bible says about it, however, Chris­tianity has never offered a uniform definition of heaven and so the Aristotelian views have prevailed. One can think of heaven as the place where God lives and where the blessed go after death (“Our Father who are in heaven... ” Matt. 6.9; “... our common­wealth is in heaven... ” Phil. 3.20); one can also look up to the sky and say, with Psalm 19.1, “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.” To my knowledge, however, the view of heaven as the natural half of earth has not been part of Christian piety and even scholars who discuss it are hard to find. One notable exception is the great Origen (died 253/254), who in his book De principiis discussed at length the idea of the cosmos and stated that “the universe is bounded by heaven and earth.”^[247]

The numerous personifications of heaven found in the Bible as well as in pagan literature suggest a cult of heavenly bodies, a practice which was of great concern to the Old Testament pro­phets.

To those familiar with the pagan myths, and the authors of the books of the New Testament certainly were, the bridal imagery of the Bible does not seem very different from the pagan concept of a union between heaven and earth, personified as Ouranos and Gaia. Such a return to the original condition of the universe was of concern to Christians as well as pagans. Elaborate systems were developed on this theme by Origen, from the Christian side, and by Plotinus, from the pagan, Neoplatonic point of view.^[249] Even without lengthy philosophical discussion, the assumption that everything came out of an original unity suggests that everything will again be dissolved into one: έξ ένδς τά πάντα γίνεσθαι, και εις ταυτδν άναλύεσθαι.^[250] Obviously, this has to include the reunifi­cation of heaven and earth. The “great portent” of Revelation 12.1 that “appeared in heaven” is without doubt the beginning of an eschatological drama, the end of which, according to Revelation 21, will be the elimination of the distance between heaven and earth and of the separation of God and men.

It seems to me unreasonable to deny that the author of Revela­tion and the scribe to whom he dictated this vision conceptualized heaven in pagan mythological categories, for they had no other avenue of apprehension. So we will look at the picture desribed in Revelation 12.1 in this way: somewhere in the mythological sphere of heaven, the image of a pregnant woman comes in sight. By whom was she impregnated? The text does not say. How did she reach the heavenly spheres and what is her function there? The more we analyze the picture, the more elusive it becomes. May we then take advantage of the resources offered by Greco- Roman mythology and assume that the mind of the author, per­meated with pagan mythological presuppositions, is using such images to express his Christian views? To do so suggests that, in this instance, pagan mythology exerted a causative influence upon a Christian object of faith, namely, the end of the world, which in the faith of the Christians is preceded by the pregnancy of a woman chosen by God and the subsequent birth of a child who begins a new humanity. The conception of Jesus is under­stood as the result of a union between heaven and earth — the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary—just as in pagan mythology it is Ouranos who impregnates Gaia. The figure of the woman in Revelation 12.1, then, was patterned after the image of Earth, Gaia, pregnant as a result of her union with Ouranos, Heaven. We shall see later that the image of Mary as the Earth Mother was well known in Christian piety and to a certain degree even in Chris­tian Mariology. Using the images of Ouranos and Gaia, the Chris­tian author presents here a picture of reestablishment of the pri­mordial unity between heaven and earth.^[251]

What the author of Revelation 12 saw in the heavenly spheres was what anybody living in the Mediterranean world at the end of the first century would immediately recognize as the “Queen of Heaven.” “Die Attribute die ihr gegeben sind weisen auf das Bild der Himmelskonigin hin,” wrote E. Lohmeyer in his definitive commen­tary on the Apocalypse.^[252] Similar statements were made by other commentators and to these we must add Gunkel’s suggestion in Schopfung und Chaos ^[253] that a relationship exists between Revelation 12 and the Genesis narratives. If the pagan mythological founda­tion of the woman’s figure is thus established, then the concept of the hieros gamos that I suggest for this particular vision is not so far fetched as it may seem. The culminating point of the entire book is after all a marriage celebration on a cosmic scale, a great con­summation which both the pagan and the Judeo-Christian tradi­tions can only hint at by referring to sexual union between male and female. It was again E. Lohmeyer who pointed out that certain elements in the book of Revelation, i.e. the birth of a savior child who after maturing enters a holy marriage, is also reflected in Virgil’s 4. Eclogue: the child, whose birth Virgil prophesizes, shares the bed of a goddess at the end of the poem.^[254] It is in this context that we should see the “woman clothed with the sun”: she is a goddess, a Christian goddess, whose role is to play the female part in the reunification of God with his creatures.

2. The Robe of the Woman

In the ancient world, the sky meant one thing to farmer and city­dweller alike: it was the huge dome that covered the earth, the immensity of which immediately evoked religious feelings. Cicero wrote:

When we gaze upward to the sky and contemplate the heavenly bodies, what can be so obvious and so manifest than that there must exist some power possessing transcendent intelligence by whom these things are ruled? Were it not so, how comes it that the words convey conviction to all readers, ‘Behold, the dazzling vault of heaven, which all mankind as Jove invoke... ”^[255]

Later Cicero quoted a passage from Euripides: “Thou seest the boundless aether’s spreading vault, whose soft embrace encompas- seth the earth; this deem thou god of gods, the supreme Jove.”^[256] And so, the shape of a vault or dome became the ultimate artistic expression of heaven, the abode of the gods. In the history of architecture, such designs can be found from very early times on, including perhaps the Mycenean behive tombs, but without doubt the elaborate circular burial chambers of the Romans, the ceilings of which were originally dome-like.^[257] While a reminder of hea­ven in connection with burials is quite natural, the dome-design was utilized in other areas, too. The most outstanding example is the Pantheon in Rome, built originally by Marcus Agrippa in 27­25 B.C. and rebuilt by the emperor Hadrian. Its magnificent dome measures 43.30 meters. (St. Peter’s, another marvel of architecture, measures only 42.52 meters.) “Pantheon” means “all gods,” and so, as the historian Dio wrote, it was long assumed that “it has this name, because it received among the images which decorated it the statues of many gods, including Mars and Venus”; however, Dio adds, “my own opinion of the name is that, because of its vaulted roof, it resembles the heavens.”^[258] Nero’s famous Golden House was also supposed to resemble heaven, and we read that there were in it “dining rooms, with fretted ceilings of ivory, whose panels could turn and shower down flowers and were fitted with pipes for sprinkling the guests with perfumes. The main banquet hall was circular and constantly revolved day and night, like the heavens.”^[259] The examples could be multiplied,^[260]

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 97 but these are enough to show that when Christian architecture adopted the dome-design, it took over and continued an image of heaven familiar to the pagan world.

This image is continued in the half-dome over the apse of many Christian churches. Among the oldest examples are S. Maria in Trastevere, which some claim is the oldest church in Rome, and S. Pudenziana, for which others make the same claim. High above the apse in the canopy of the half-dome, the image of the exalted Christ is visible in both churches. In the magnificent S. Maria Maggiore, there appears below the half­dome a picture of the Virgin Mary’s death with Jesus Christ in attendance; above this, in the half-dome, we see Mary assumed into heaven and crowned by Jesus. The script below it explains: ^uExallata est Santa Dei Genetrix super choros angelorum ad celestia regna.” Of special interest is Santa Constanza, a circular church, originally built as a mausoleum for the daughters of Constantine the Great. Not only is the church reminiscent of pagan tombs, but its decoration is more pagan that Christian. The exquisite mosaics with their floral designs which ornament the vaulting are a classic example of an architecture in which “the pagan and Christian worlds meet and mingle.”^[261] All of this supports the claim that there is “an unbroken continuity between antique and Christian monuments of this kind.”^[262]

In addition to the vaulted shape, the idea of heaven is also ex­pressed with the decoration of the ceiling. Even when the ceiling is not a dome but a flat roof, its color and its decoration with stars, sun, and moon recall a vision of heaven. Such designs were utilized in flat ceilings, tents, and even awnings. Pliny says that “awnings colored as the sky and spangled with stars have been stretched with ropes even in emperor Nero’s amphitheater,”^[263] to serve as shades from the sun for the spectators. In Euripides’ Ion there is a description of a tent, the ceiling of which was a “canopy of shawls” decorated with the sun, moon, the Pleiades, and other heavenly bodies.^[264] Thus, even temporarily erected canopies sym­bolized heaven and the shape of a tent could be compared to the sky as it covers the earth. Heaven, then, is being viewed as a cosmic tent. And since a tent is so similar in shape to a robe, it takes only a short stretch of the imagination to think of the cosmic tent as a cosmic robe which surrounds and covers the great mys­tery that is called God. “Thou art clothed with honor and majesty, who coverest thyself with light as a garment, who hast stretched out the heavens like a tent.”^[265]

Images of the gods and goddesses were often painted with robes covered with celestial symbols, usually with many stars.^[266] This was done, of course, to express their celestial character, their authority, and their rule over the universe. Thus Apuleius de­scribed Isis as wearing a black robe embroidered with glittering stars around a full moon.^[267] According to Martianus Capella, the tunic of Juno was grass-green and her robe was made of clouds; her shoes were dark, the soles like night.^[268] Similarly, ancient statues of divinities were covered with robes that reflected their main characteristics. In Athens a robe for Athene, the Peplos, was woven by the women and given to the goddess during the Great Panathenian Festival in connection with an elaborate procession.

Now we return briefly to Caelestis. As we have mentioned, in Lacinium the statue of Juno was dressed in a robe whose extraordi­nary beauty was admired by all.^[269] The following story is related about it by Athenaeus: A certain Sybarite citizen, Alcisthenes by name, had such a yen for luxury that he had a very expensive robe made for himself. During the festival of Hera (= Juno) in Lacinium, “at which all Greeks of Italy gather,” he exhibited the robe and it was much admired. When Dionysus, tyrant of Syra- cus, “came into possession of it, he sold it to the Carthaginians for one hundred and twenty talents.” A certain Polemon, Athenaeus continues, also related this story in a book entitled On the Rohes of Carthage. Nothing remains of Polemon’s work, but we know from Aristotle’s description of it that the robe “was of purple, fifteen cubits in size, and on each side it was ornamented with em­broidered figures, of Susa above, and of the Persians below; in the center were Zeus, Hera, Themis, Athene, Apollo, and Aphrodite. At one extremity was Alcimenes, and on either side Sybaris.”^[270] According to R. Eisler,^[271] however, this customary translation is incorrect. In the Greek text ζωδίος should be translated with “zodiac,” “σούσιος,” and “πέρσαι” should not be capitalized but left as simple nouns: σοΰσον (lily) and περαία (peach). Accor­dingly, the robe was decorated with the signs of the zodiac, flowers, and peaches. Juno and Caelestis were universal god­desses and Eisler’s interpretation reveals that the decorations on this robe, as we should expect, emphasized their cosmic role. This robe, then, was taken to Carthage where we assume it decorated the statue of Tanit.

What became of the robe? Did it perish in the general destruc­tion of Carthage in 146 B.C. or was it saved? Once again we recall the capture of Veii, after which the statue of “Queen Juno” was moved to Rome “with deepest reverence.” Something like this could have happened in 146 B.C., but if so, no mention of it was made by Polybius or Livy, both of whom were impressed chiefly with the ferocity of the city’s destruction. This is a pity, because our knowledge of this robe is extremely limited, and robes were important parts of the statue of a goddess; those who made them have woven into them their confession of faith. The robe of Lacinium could tell us much about what the Romans believed about Juno, the Greeks about Hera (the temple was originally built

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 101 by the Greeks for Hera), and the Carthaginians about Tanit, who eventually received it. When Carthage became a Roman city and Caelestis took the place of Tanit as the chief goddess, her statue was also covered with a beautiful robe. It was probably to this robe that Tertullian referred when he said that ‘‘they who court their idols by dressing them, and by adorning them in their sanctu­ary, and by saluting them at each particular hour, are said to do them service.”^[272] Even if this robe was not the same as the one described by Aristotle, it must have been worthy of the honor paid to the goddess. In the Historia Augusta we read that during a particularly turbulent period of the empire, “the Africans.... created an emperor, Celsus, dressing him with the robe of the goddess Caelestis (peplo deae Caelestis omatum). ” The robe repre­sented authority and Celsus hoped that if he wore it divine sanc­tion would be given to his imperial claim.^[273]

Clearly, a robe, even a simple dress, is more than a means to cover the body. “A garment is an expression of personality”; it is “a second skin.”^{[274] [275] [276] It becomes a part of the person who wears it and reveals much about him or her, so much indeed that by simply looking at a dress, one can have a fairly accurate impression of the person. A garment is an extension of the personality and a way of communicating with the world outside oneself. The gar­ment worn by a powerful person may even absorb some of that person’s power. Thus when the prophet Elijah was taken up into heaven by the chariot of fire, his successor, Elisha “took hold of}

his own clothes and rent them into two pieces. And he took up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him.” Presently the pro­phet’s power was transferred to him; he could even part the waters of the Jordan river, and the people who saw him said, “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.”⁶⁴ Similarly, we read that miraculous power was attributed to the garment of Jesus. When a gravely ill woman came to be healed, she said, “If I touch even his gar­ments, I shall be made well.” She did touch his garment and was immediately healed. “And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone forth from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said,’Who touched my garments?’”⁶⁵

Apuleius tells us that during the process of his initiation Lucius received twelve robes, indicating his gradual and eventually total rebirth. Each robe represented a different stage in his transforma­tion until the last one which, sumptuously decorated, was called the “Olympian robe.” This one showed Lucius in a state of assimi­lation to Isis and Osiris.^{[277] [278] [279] In the apocryphal Acts of Thomas Jesus relates that he received a “splendid robe” which he had to take off when he went to the land of the Egyptians. There he clothed him­self “in garments like theirs that they might not suspect that I was come without.” After awhile he took off these “dirty and unclean garments,” and having returned home, he saw his “splendid robe.” Suddenly}

“... when I saw it over against me, the (splendid robe) became like me, as my reflection in a mirror; I saw it (wholly) in me, and in it I saw myself (quite) apart (from myself), so that we were two in distinction, and again one in a single form...”^[280]

The “splendid robe” here means, of course, the heavenly ego of Jesus.

When someone puts on new garments, he/she must first take off the old ones. Apuleius, too, was naked momentarily (see Grif­fiths, p. 309) which did embarrass him. Similarly, in the early Christian practice of baptism spiritual rebirth was symbolized not only by going under water and re-emerging again, but by the very real act of taking off the old clothing and putting on new ones.^[281]

When Revelation 12 says that the woman who appeared in heaven was “clothed with the sun,” the significance of the state­ment cannot be overestimated. She is wearing the sun as her robe, and that robe is the expression of her personality; that is how she is to be regarded by the rest of the world. But how did pagan mythology view the sun? Personified as Helios or Sol, the sun was conceived of by the Greeks and Romans as the ruler of the entire universe and the power that regulates the flow and rhythm of the cosmos. The effect of the sun on life is obvious; everyone can see it. It was not without reason that the “heretic king” Akhe- naton promoted the Aton, i.e., the sun-disc, as the “sole god.” In his beautiful hymn,^[282] he praised Aton as a radiant energy from which all life arose and by which everything was sustained. While his religious reform was doomed to failure, the thought of a sole sun-god continued. By the end of the Hellenistic age, there was a definite tendency toward the development of a sun-cult, i.e., a religion in which the functions of all gods and goddesses would be merged into the one image of the sun.^[283] Macrobius, in the early fifth century A.D., said exactly this: all gods are identical with the sun. He also explained that since the planets rule the fate of men and the sun leads the planets, it is clear that the sun is the ultimate reason of everything.^[284] He is “pantokrator,” the soul of the cosmos, the energy of the cosmos, the light of the cosmos.

This is the garment with which the woman in Revelation 12 was clothed.

Thus clothed, she is revealed in a state of assimilation to the divine principle, as united with God. This is hieros gamos on the most exalted level. Under her feet is the moon. While the sun was usually personified as male, with a radiant crown on his head, the moon was female, Selene or Luna, and associated with female functions. Nothing is more natural than that these two heavenly bodies would be associated in mythology and popular religion, which indeed happened very early. Selene was looked upon as the wife of Helios. The conjunction of sun and moon was called in Greek, σύνοδος = coming together; the same word is also used in a sexual sense, i.e., coitus, προς γάμον τινί συνελθεΐν means to marry, and as this became a technical term, the word γάμος was often omitted from the phrase.^[285] There is a marriage relationship between the sun and the moon, and people regarded the day of the new moon as particularly favorable for a wedding.^[286]

This is the vision of Revelation 12.1: the woman has been hypo- statically united with the divine, and in her person, standing on the moon, the sun and the moon are brought together in a con­junction which carries elements of a great “coming together,” a cosmic hieros gamos. This image points toward the eschatological marriage feast at the end of the book. The picture is soon obscured by the following verses, but the image is there and it does have a message.^[287]

There is another vision of a woman in Revelation whose cloth­ing also expresses her identity. This is

... the great whore, enthroned above the ocean. The kings of the earth have committed fornication with her, and on the wine of her fornication men all over the world have made themselves drunk... I saw a woman mounted on a scarlet beast which was covered with blasphemous names and had seven heads and ten horns. The woman was clothed in purple and scarlet and bedizened with gold and jewels and pearls. In her hand she held a gold cup, full of obscenities and the fondness of her fornication; and written on her forehead was a name with a secret meaning: “Babylon the great, the mother of whores and of every obscenity on earth.” The woman I saw was drunk with the blood of God’s people and with the blood of those who had borne their testimony to Jesus... ^[288]

The following verses offer an explanation of the vision: the woman is “the great city” which most modern interpreters take to be Rome, since Babylon in literal sense is out of the question.^[289] But there are certain elements in this vision which conjure up the image of a pagan goddess. The robe of this woman, decorated with jewels and pearls, is similar to those that clothed the statues of goddesses, who were commonly associated with wild beasts, such as lions. Homer called Artemis πότνια Θηρών, and the image of a goddess as the mistress of wild animals is a familiar one in pagan mythology and art.^[290] Among the wild animals the lion is often depicted, sometimes surrounding the throne of the goddess, sometimes bearing the goddess on its back.^[291] The lion was part of the retinue of the Dea Syria and in a favorite representa­tion of Cybele, she sits in a chariot drawn by lions.^[292] The associa­tion of this woman with a city is also typical of pagan goddesses. As we have seen above, they were often protective deities of cities and were identified as the “genius” of that particular city. Thus they were sometimes represented with a city wall as a crown on their heads, as were Cybele and the Artemis of Ephesus. There is, however, a deeper analogy: a city is like a woman who bears, nurtures, and protects her children. The city is a woman in a symbolic sense. In Revelation 17, “the great whore” is associated with a sinful entity, Babylon, which is then contrasted with the new city, Jeruselem “coming down out of heaven from God, made ready like a bride adorned for her husband.”^[293] The city as the “great whore” represents chaos; the true city, however, is a holy place, in which chaos and chaotic powers are conquered.^[294]

Whatever the interpretation of this woman may be, the image is clearly patterned after that of a pagan goddess. I suggest that this goddess was Cybele to whose image Christians in Asia Minor were most often exposed. They were exposed to an image of the goddess wearing a richly decorated robe, with a symbolic wall on her head, and accompanied by lions. They were exposed to orgiastic, chaotic celebrations, promiscuity which Christians asso­ciated with the sin of fornication. The words with which she is most identified reminded Christians in Asia Minor of Cybele: “Babylon the great, mother of whores... ” If we leave out the comma, it is not difficult to read in verse 17.5 “ή μεγάλη ή μήτηρ,” i.e. “the great mother.” Possibly Christians in Asia Minor could read between the lines. From this sinful mystery they were called away into the mystery of Jesus: “Come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins and share in her plagues... She says in her heart, Ί am a queen on my throne...’ Because of this, her plagues shall strike her in a single day... no more shall the sound of harps and minstrels, of flute players and trumpeters be heard in you...”^[295] Cybele’s orgiastic celebrations which were accompanied by just such music. Cybele, for the author, is the incorporated sum of all demonic powers, she is Babylon, a city which gives birth to, nourishes and protects all those forces and activities that are inimical to the rule of God.

The whorish queen is contrasted with the queen of heaven: one is in alliance with chaotic elements, the other opposes them. One is clothed with purple and scarlet, colors associated with destruc­tion,^[296] the other with the sun, the divine element itself. The “hieros gamos” of one is fornication, of the other it is the consummation of the eschatological union between heaven and earth.

This leads us back to the heikgeschichtliche view of biblical his­tory, characterized by the principle of Urzeit and Endzeit, and the work of H. Gunkel who pointed to the relationship between Gene­sis and Revelation. We find that the clothing of the woman in Revelation 12 fits this pattern perfectly. After the Fall, according to Genesis, Adam and Eve lost their original clothing and their bo­dies were covered with fig leaves (Gen. 3.7) According to Jewish and early Christian interpretations they were orginally clothed in “garments of glory” and “garments of light” which will be restored to them at the end of time. At the eschatological marriage feast such a robe will be a requirement (Rev. 22.14; Mt. 22.11); it is acquired in baptism. Eve lost her robe of glory in the Fall which, according to the Revelation of Moses, she lamented with these words: “And in that very hour mine eyes were opened, and I knew that I was stripped of the righteousness with which I had been clothed; and I wept saying, What is this thou hast done to me, because I have been deprived of the glory with which I was clothed?”^[297] Now, in Revelation 12, Eve appears restored in her ori­ginal robe of glory. This is the ultimate message of the “woman clothed with the sun.”

We turn now to the astral motifs. But first let us summarize what we have thus far discussed. In the pagan view, heaven was seen as a dome and also as a cosmic robe. A robe is an expression and an extension of its wearer’s personality. Thus, if Revelation 12 is indeed based on pagan mythological presuppositions, the wo­man who appeared to the seer is a celestial figure whose cosmic robe demonstrates her divine authority. The contrast between her attire and that of the “great whore” in ch. 17.1-6 further enhances the image of the woman in Revelation 12.1 as that of a heavenly figure who is deeply involved in the process of the final consum­mation.

3. The Astral Motifs

Stars and constellations permeate the whole story we are study­ing. Such celestial images are essential to representations of “heavenly queens.” To the ancient Greeks and Romans, stars and constellations were living beings, each with its peculiar persona­lity. Traces of this belief are reflected in the New Testament, as, for example, when, in connection with the resurrection, Paul speaks about “celestial bodies” and “terrestrial bodies” whose “glory” differs from one another. ‘There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star differs from another star in glory.”^[298] This view is based on a system of magic in which the planets figured as inter­mediary beings possessing various characteristics which the Greeks called πάθος.

Planets were not the only intermediaries, however. Ancient daemonology posited the existence of a host of daemons, that is, mediators, between gods and men. Plato (429-347 B.C.) had dis­tinguished daemons from gods and men, assigning to daemons the role of mediators in creation and generally in leading the world.^[299] Eventually the Neoplatonic philosophers^[300] developed a hierarchical order, descending from the gods to archangels, angels, and daemons down to men. Depending on their proxi­mity to the gods, the bodies of the daemons may be air, water, or steam; the closer they are to men, the more their bodies will consist of a material substance. All of them, however, belong to the same universal world-soul. Thus by conceiving this system, the philosophers not only preserved the unity of the universe but also assured the possibility of communication between the divine and the human.^[301] Through the daemons, the divine penetrates into the lowest regions of the universe; it is present and accessible in the sensible and physical. By contacting or perceiving the “daemon” in a certain physical object, an ascent toward the divine is possible. This linking of the universe from its highest to its lowest parts constitutes the principle of “sympathy” which permeates everything.

Such “sympathy” implies interdependence as well, and since power also descends from the higher to the lower, so does the exertion of influence work from above to below. Thus the heaven­ly bodies and their movements were understood to affect the lives of men: belief in a mystical cosmic harmony meant that events in heaven were thought to have their reflection on earth. This thought pattern, which can be followed from the epics of Homer down to the book of Revelation, is known to us as astrology, which claims to study the influences of the celestial bodies on human destiny. The seven planets, that is, the stars which appear to have motions of their own,^[302] are, in order of their closeness to the earth, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. The motions of these planets take place in a sphere called the zodiac.^[303] The zodiac is divided into twelve constellations, called Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. Each month the sun passes through one of these “signs”, thus enhancing the influence of that constellation on the earth. Ancient astrology and magic also held that the soul is preexistent and descends into a material body by way of the planets and the fixed stars.^[304] From each celestial body the soul was understood to absorb a certain πάθος, thus at birth not only the basic character of the person was thought to be determined, but also the basic pattern of his or her earthly des­tiny. To cast a horoscope, an astrologer finds the exact constella­tions at the moment of birth and then applies the relevant πάθη to the person in question. The author of Revelation gives us every reason to believe that he was familiar with these principles of cosmic harmony and sympathy, and keeping this in mind, we may see his book in a broader dimension.

The vision of Revelation 12 takes place in the sky, and many actors in the celestial drama are those personified constellations that were so familiar to everyone living in the early Roman Em­pire. Several references seem to call for not merely mythological but also astrological explanations. The following items mentioned in the text may have astral meanings:^[305]

The Crown on the woman’s head recalls the constellation Στέφανος (Corona) which according to Greek mythology was placed in heaven to commemorate Ariadne, the tragic lover of Theseus (Rev. 12.1).

The Dragon is a constellation called Δράκων in Greek (Draco in Latin) and was identified either with the dragon killed by Cad­mus or the Python killed by Apollo (Rev. 12.3).

The Hydra (’Ύδρα), or Water-Snake, consists of stars forming coils and tails. A similar constellation is the Snake (’Όφις) (Rev. 12.14).

The Eagle (’Αετός; Aquila), also a constellation, was a bird sacred to Zeus (Rev. 12.14).

Aquarius, as such, is not mentioned in Revelation 12, but this is the “Water-Pourer” who was connected with Deucalion, the Noah of Greek mythology. He is represented as a man holding an urn from which water pours out, an image similar to the one pre­sented in Revelation 12.15.

The overwhelming figure in the vision, however, is a woman clothed with the sun, under whose feet is the moon, and who wears a crown of twelve stars. Any Greek or Roman reading such a description would have thought of the constellation Virgo (παρθένος; Virgin), the sixth sign of the zodiac who was repre-

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 111 sented as a woman holding an ear of corn and having wings. A Hellenistic work described this sign as follows:

The Virgin. Hesiod in his Theogony has called her the daughter of Zeus and Themis, and she is called ‘Justice” (Δίκη).^{[306] [307] But after mortals had changed their ways and no longer cared for just behavior, she no longer dwelled among them but departed into the mountains. Afterwards, when strife and war had become endemic among men due to their savage injustice, she ascended into heaven. There are also the most numerous accounts concern­ing her: Some say she is Demeter because she holds an ear of corn. Others say she is Isis. Still others call her, Atargatis, others, Fate (Tyche) because they give her a headless form. She has one dim star on top of her head, one on top of each shoulder, and two on each wing. The star on the right wing, between the shoulder and the top of the wing, is called Protrugeter.^ There is one star upon each elbow, and one upon each tip of the hands, the bright star of the left hand is called Stachus.[308] Upon the edge of her garment there are six dim stars... one upon each foot. The sum total of all are twenty.[309] [310]}

Thus the image of a woman standing in the sky was one with which people were familiar and to which they could relate. Apuleius also pictured Isis as a celestial figure.⁹*⁷ On her forehead she wore a shining round disc like the moon, held up by snakes rising from the earth; behind her head appeared ears of corn. She identified herself with the great fertility goddesses, among them Juno. Indeed, Martianus Capella described Juno in a similar way. In his story, Juno, seated upon a throne next to Jupiter, wore on her head a mantilla on which was a diadem set with precious stones.^{[311] [312] Other gods and goddesses came before them, among them Saturn, holding a fire-breathing dragon, then Sol (= Sun) and Luna (= Moon). Jupiter addressed them in this fashion: “People of the stars... Here, then, we find again the familiar actors in the cosmic drama of Revelation 12: the sun, the moon, the dragon, and the stars. Martianus referred to Juno as “regina coeZz” queen of heaven, a common epithet, but for us it is interest­ing that he described Juno’s jewelry and appearance in associa­tion with the stars in such a way that immediately calls to mind the woman clothed with the sun, who wore on her head a crown of twelve stars.[313]}

In this connection must be mentioned the so-called Carvoran inscription. This inscription, left behind by a Roman soldier, Donatianus, in the wall of Hadrian in Northumberland around the third century, reads as follows:

Imminet Leoni Virgo caelesti situ

Spicifera, iusti inventrix, urbium conditrix,

Ex quis muneribus nosse contigit deos,

Ergo eadem mater divum, pax, virtus, Ceres, Dea Syria, lance vitam et iura pensitans. In caelo visum Syria sidus edidit Libyae colendum. Inde cuncti didicimus. Ita intellexit numine inductus tuo Marcus Caecilius Donatianus militans Tribunus in praefecto dono principis.

The Virgo stands by Leo in the heavenly place the bearer of ears of corn, the inventor of justice, the founder of cities, out of whose munificence one can know the gods, the same is, therefore, the mother of the gods, Peace,

Virtue, Ceres,

the Syrian goddess, weighing with a scale life and right.

Syria handed on the constellation seen on the sky to Lybia to cultivate. Thence we all learned (the cult). Induced (or moved) by your divinity thus understood Marcus Caecilius Donatianus serving as a soldier tribune, by the grace of the emperor, a prefect.^[314]

This inscription was first applied to Revelation 12 by A. Diete­rich in 1891.^[315] After him many others referred to it, and for our own investigation it is an important reference because it reflects popular piety around the second century A.D., at which time the great fertility goddesses from Syria to Lybia and Rome were considered to be “the same.” They were all viewed as images of the Virgo, a celestial divinity who was also the mother of the gods. The Roman soldier and the Christian visionary both see a woman appearing in the sky, and for both she is a divine and royal figure. This is not just a coincidence. The concept of the constellation Virgo was destined to play an unusual role in Chris­tian theology just about the time when the inscription of Donatia­nus was written. Around the middle of the second century, Christians began to return to their pagan intellectual origins, referring to and quoting Greek and Roman authors.^[316] Soon they rediscovered Virgil, especially his Fourth Eclogue in which the poet sings about the return of the “golden age,” the rule of Saturn. This beautiful and mysterious poem written in 40 B.C. centers around the birth of a child whose coming will usher in a new age, free of every sort of wickedness which thus far has hung over mankind as an evil curse. ”Iam redit el Virgo, redeunt Satumia regna.” “Now returns the Virgo, returns Saturn’s rule,”^[317] Virgil says, and from the context it is clear that he was referring to the constellation Virgo, whose return from heaven to earth meant that the conditions which forced her departure from earth, i.e., the proliferation of sin and evil, have been eliminated. It was, of course, not difficult for Christians to put the emphasis upon the meaning of the word Virgo, Virgin. While this was legitimate for pagans as well, the Virgin par excellence for Christians was the mother of Jesus. And so in Christian interpretation Virgil’s poetic line became a reference to Mary. The first Christian work to make this positive identification was the Oratio ad Coetum Sancto­rum, a good Friday sermon ascribed to Constantine the Great (285­337) and composed around A.D. 323.^[318] The rest of Virgil’s poem underwent a similar allegorization and eventually Virgil himself was regarded as a prophet who foretold the birth of Christ. But παρθένος, or Virgo, in Greco-Roman religious usage can also mean any one of the “virgin” goddesses — Demeter, Juno, Isis, Atargatis, Caelestis, and Aphrodite, to name a few. The question is, then, could Christians interpret Virgil’s poem as a reference to Mary if some form of mental association between the image of a virgin goddess and Mary had not already taken place? Whatever the answer to this question may be, the fact remains that in this case there is a direct overlapping of the pagan Virgo and the Christian Mary. In other words, it was in the interpretation of the Fourth Eclogue that Christians openly identified Mary with the celestial virgin goddess of paganism.

Once again, the astral motifs in Revelationl2 are very close to those used in pagan mythologies to describe and characterize goddesses: the association with sun and moon, the use of the stars as decorations, jewels in a crown, or on a robe are all devices to illustrate the high position of the goddess. In Revelation 12 all this is present and one thing more: the image of the constellation Virgo is strongly implied in the text, and this places the image once again into a cosmological context. The Virgo left the world when the present conditions arose and will return at the end, when the “golden age” is reestablished. According to Greco-Roman mytho­logy, the return of the Virgin is a sign that “the end is near,” and this is what Revelation 12 indicates. The sign of the Virgo appeared

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 115 in the sky; this can mean only one thing, namely, that the damage done “in the beginning” has been repaired and the King­dom of God, to use now Christian terminology, is near.

4. The Cosmic Battle

Immediately after the woman, a second portent appears in hea­ven: a great red dragon who in a desperate struggle tries to destroy the woman, eventually by pouring water after her. Thus begins the great battle which introduces the visions of the end-time, a motif first discussed by H. Gunkel and later explored by many scholars.^[319] Two elements relate directly to our understanding of the woman’s role in the drama: first, the figure of the dragon, and second, the significance of water in the cosmic scheme.

a. The Dragon

The dragon is a familiar figure in the mythologies of many peoples. In the Old Testament it appears under the names of “Levi­athan,” “Monster,” “Serpent,” and “Rahab” (= “Rager”). Because these monsters are usually associated with the sea, often the sea it­self is named as the personification of evil. Whatever their name,

they are always enemies of God; thus we have in the Old Tes­tament the familiar juxtaposition of God versus the “serpent.”^[320] In Sumerian and Babylonian mythology, the sea monster is called Tiamat and her husband is Apsu. Their chaotic unions issued in dragon-like monsters, whose eventual fight set the stage for the creation of mankind.^[321] In Canaanite mythology, the chief actors are Baal, who represents fertility and life; Anath, his female counterpart; and Mot, god of sterility and death. Baahs first con­flict was with the waters, whose unruliness and tyranny had to be subdued before life could begin. Baal achieved this victory in a successful battle with Yam, i.e., the dragon, the Lord of the Sea.

The waters could now be distributed advantageously and Baal was worshipped as the god of rainfall who rode upon the clouds.^[322] In later developments the myth assumed the character of dying and rising gods, i.e., the agricultural cycles: Mot caused the death of Baal until through the energetic intervention of Anath he was restored to life and the rains returned.^[323]

Greek mythology, although somewhat remote from its Near Eastern counterparts, shows some similarities to it.^[324] In these myths the destructive force appears as a dragon, a serpent, or a monster, sometimes with the names of “Hydra,” “Typhon” or “Typhaon,” or “Pytho,” who are eventually killed by a god or a hero. These stories, then, exist in many versions, expressing the same thought in several variations and in different frameworks.^[325] They all contain the same element that is also prominent in the Near Eastern myths, that is, water monsters as enemies of ordered life. When Zeus kills Typhoeous or Apollo kills Typhon or Python, the forces of disorder are eliminated so that civilized life may begin. In Greek cosmogony it is the victory of Zeus over the Titans which expresses the triumph of order “over the monstrous wildness of age-old elemental disorder.”^[326]

In Egyptian mythology^[327] the concept that comes closest to that of a dragon is Apopis (or Apophis, or Apep), the snake.^[328] Apopis is an elusive figure, not a god that can be worshipped, but simply a phenomenon that can be experienced as chaos and as an evil force.^[329] According to Egyptian mythology, Apopis’ origin goes back to the time of the primordial waters where the mother of Re, Neith, resided. From a spittle of Neith, a snake developed which was one hundred twenty yards long. This snake revolted against Re but was defeated and driven back into his cavern; according to the myth, since then there has been a never-ending struggle against the powers of chaos.^[330] The sun and light are constantly exposed to the attacks of darkness, and so the rising of the sun is represented as the victory of Re over Apopis. This rising is a daily occurrence, for Apopis never dies. He is only repelled, over­thrown, or conquered in the same way as, in Mesopotamian mythology, Marduk conquers Tiamat at each celebration of the New Year’s festival. The possibility of chaos is ever-present and it is Re, with the uraeus-snake on his forehead, who overcomes this danger. Consequently, the pharaoh functions as the incarnation of Re, because he, the king, also conquers disorder and safeguards order in the land.^[331]

The Egyptian idea of the god Seth is so closely related to Near Eastern and Greek concepts that eventually he was identified with Baal, Anath, and Typhon.^[332] Unlike Apopis, Seth was thought of as a god who came into being at the third level of the development of creation, which, according to the Heliopolitan Ennead, included nine gods.^[333] In the character of Seth, the slayer of Osiris, the Egyptians conceived a hostile god, an enemy of order, a promoter of confusion, a disturber of harmony, who nevertheless is an integral part of total reality. Afraid of Seth, Isis fled to the marshes of Khemnis and gave birth to Horus.^[334] After the battie between Horus and Seth, however, Isis did not permit Seth to be killed but rather released him. Plutarch’s interpretation of this story is that opposing influences make the world go around and that evil cannot be completely eradicated. If Osiris represents “the whole source and faculty of creative moisture,” and Seth (i.e., Typon) “all that is dry, fiery and arid in general, and antagonistic to moisture,”^{[335] [336] then it follows that the fiery element cannot com­pletely disappear from the world; only the nature opposed to mois­ture must be relaxed and moderated, but “its tempering potency should persist.”[337] Thus, it is out of discordant elements that con­cord is created in the universe, and destructive forces are curbed, but not eliminated.[338]}

The dragon, therefore, is a figure which is connected with the principle of chaos. Chaos is the opposite of order; it is out of chaos

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 121 that the gods created order and made civilized life possible. Chaos was identified with the elemental power of water. Thus, Genesis 1.1-3 speaks of God separating “the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament.” The waters under the heavens were restricted to their place so that dry land could appear and vegetation could begin. This unruly, destructive commingling of water and elemental forces was anthropomorphized in the figure of a raging monster, a cosmic opponent of God, conquered by him at the time of creation, and restrained and controlled by him now.¹²⁵ In Revelation 12 the dragon is on the loose again, using the element of water in his attempt to destroy the events taking place in heaven. Chaos, once conquered by God, is threatening again to undo God’s plans, which are portrayed in the figure of the woman clothed with the sun: she represents cosmic unity, she brings together “things in heaven and things on earth,” and thus she is a proleptic realiza­tion of the final, eschatological consummation.

b. Water

Ancient mythologies reveal the double nature of the element of water. Unrestrained water represents chaos and is experienced as a destructive force; under control, however, water is absolutely necessary to life. According to one line of thought, all life originated from Oceanus, i.e., water, the primeval cosmic power ^{[339] [340]}

which is the source of all life. Homer says that the θεών γένεσις was Oceanus.^[341] This reference lived on in some versions of the Greek Orphic tradition, whose cosmogony also began with Ocea­nus^[342] as well as in the work of the “father of philosophy,” Thales of Miletus, who, according to Aristotle, said that everything in the world originates from one substance and that substance is water.^[343] Now, it may or may not be true that Thales was in­fluenced in the formation of his ideas by the Egyptians, as W. K. C. Guthrie suggested.^[344] The fact is, however, that Egyptian mythology contains many references to the primordial water, Nun, as the source of life.^{[345] 30} Sumerian mythology, too, refers to the primeval sea as “the mother who gave birth to all the gods,” personified in the goddess Nammu. Thus possibly the earliest cosmogonies posited the existence of an eternal and uncreated substance, the sea, from which everything came to be.^[346] How-

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 123 ever, even subdued, water is not always a blessing; even then it can be a destructive power and a source of much evil. This nega­tive view of water can be found everywhere in ancient texts, including the Bible¹³² and Greek and Roman literature.¹³⁵

Pennsylvania Press, 1972, pp. 68-75.

¹³² In the book of Psalms a “time of distress” can be referred to as “the rash of bad waters” [Ps. 32.6] and a time of affliction is described with the following words: “The waters have come up to my neck, I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me” [69.1-2; see also 42.7; 46.1-3]. Similarly, the promise of Yahweh to protect those who believe him is expressed with these words: “When you pass through the water I will be with you; and through the river they shall not overwhelm you” [Isa. 43.2a]. The danger that water repre­sented was so keenly felt that it could be compared with that of fire [Isa. 43.2b; Ps. 66.12]. Often the ocean is a symbol of death, as in the song of Jonah which came “out of the belly of Sheol,” out of the belly of the fish: “Thou didst cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood was round about me; all thy waves and thy billows passed over me” [Jon. 2.2­3]. Here Sheol, the deep, and the ocean are nearly synonymous, as in Ps. 88: “Thou hast put me in the depths of the Pit, in the regions dark and deep. Thy wrath lies heavy upon me, and thou dost overwhelm me with all thy waves” [v. 6-7]. More examples could be cited, but these should suffice to enable us to see that in the Old Testament the negative character of water includes the ideas that water can cause death (obviously by drowning) and that the ocean can be described as the realm of death.

¹³³ See Hesiod’s warning concerning seafaring and his ominous re­mark: “It is fearful to die among the waves” [ Works and Days, 618-694; Hugh Evelyn White, Hesiod, op. cit., pp. 49-53; see also 236-237: the peaceful and just do not travel on ships, because the earth bears them fruit]. Lucretius wrote that at one time men were harder, ate what Nature provided, and did not know “the wicked way to navigation.” Ships and sailors were not killed on the rocks by the “turbulent billows of the sea” and it did not matter whether the sea rose and stormed and nobody could be “enticed to his ruin by the treacherous witchery of a quiet sea with laughing waves” [De Rerum Natura, 1000-1006, W. H. D. Rouse and Μ. F. Smith, Lucretius, De Rerum Natura, LCL, London: Heinemann, 1975, pp. 456-457]. According to Virgil, seafaring means “to tempt Thetis with rafts,” but in the coming golden age even the “trader himself will forsake the sea and the nautical pine (i.e., ships) will not exchange merchandise” [S. Benko, “Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue in Chris­tian Interpretation,” Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt, Hildegard Temporini und Wolfgang Haase, eds., Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1980, 11.311, p. 657. See Oracula Sibyllina 3.777 ff: “And all the paths of the plain and the sheer banks and the lofty mountains and the wild sea waves shall become easy to travel over by foot or sail in those days.”] Ovid, fearful of Corinna’s safety on the sea, wished that sea-going ships were unknown [Amores 2.11; Guy Lee, Ovid's Amores New York: Viking, 1968, pp. 89-93; Peter Green, Ovid. The Erotic Poems, Harmondsworth, England: Penguin, 1982, pp. 125-126]. Horace addressed a poem to his good friend Virgil when he sailed to Greece. In this poem Horace prayed to Venus, and then to Castor and Pollux (i.e., the constellation Gemini, who were invoked in time of peril at sea), that Virgil might be safe on his perilous journey. God in his wisdom

The Egyptians emphasized the beneficent aspect of water more than their Near Eastern neighbors because of the strong connec­tion of this element with Isis and Osiris. In one story, Osiris was drowned in water by Seth;^{[347] [348] in another, he was tricked into lying in a coffin, the lid of which was nailed down; the coffin, enclos­ing the body of Osiris, was thrown into a river and carried into the sea.[349] Therefore, the Egyptians could even look upon drown­ing as an apotheosis because this manner of death assured that the person would immediately become one with Osiris.[350] Yet there are many references in Egyptian literature to water as a “symbol of death and chaos.”[351] According to Plutarch, the Egyptians con­sidered the sea as a “corrupt and pestilential residuum of a foreign nature.”[352] Sometimes the sea was identified with Typhon[353] and salt with the spume of Typhon.[354] Nor is the fear of water alien to the world of the New Testament. It is in just such a light that the story of Jesus’ stilling of the storm-tossed sea must be understood: “Peace, be still!” — Jesus said, and when calm returned, his disciples said to one another: “Who is this, that even wind and sea obey him?”[355] Similarly, Jesus’ walking on the sea may be a demonstration both of his power to raise himself above the laws of nature and of his authority over the primordial power of the waters, which would be an added proof of his divinity:[356] as God had subdued the primordial waters, so Jesus now rules over them. In the apocalyptic distress according to Luke, the sea again will be a fearsome threat: “And there will be signs in sun and moon and stars, and upon the earth distress of nations in perplexity at the roaring of the sea and the waves, men fainting with fear and with foreboding of what is coming on the world... ”[357] The meaning is clear: Chaos has been tamed only temporarily and is being kept under control by God. But water is still a potentially deadly element, and at the end of time the power of chaos will again threaten to destroy ordered life. This is what we read about in Revelation 12.}

The phenomenon of the water so fascinated the North African Christian lawyer Tertullian (d. 220) that he based a good part of his encomium of baptism on the excellent character of this element. Here, of course, he emphasized the beneficent qualities of water. His little treatise begins with the statement that heretics (i.e. the Caininites) who wish to deny the importance of baptism are vipers, asps and basilisks who by nature prefer arid and waterless places... “But we,” he says, “little fishes, after the example of our IX0YC Jesus Christ, are born in water, nor have we safety in any other way than permanently abiding in water” (Ch. 1). Taking baptism away from Christians is the same as taking little fishes out of water. Why does a material substance have such a great dignity? The answer is this: ‘"Water is one of those things which, before all of the world, were quiescent with God in a yet unshapen state.” He makes references to Genesis 1.1-2 and then continues with these words: “The first thing, O man, which you have to venerate, is the age of the waters in that their substance is ancient; the second, their dignity, in that they were the seat of the Divine Spirit, more pleasing to Him, no doubt, than all the other then existing elements.” The primeval darkness was without shape, the abyss was gloomy, and the earth unfurnished. “Water alone—always a perfect, gladsome, simple material substance, pure in itself—supplied a worthy vehicle to God.” Waters were the regulating powers by which God constituted the world: by dividing the waters, he made dry land. After this the water received the order to bring forth life (Gen. 1.1-2, 6.8). It is in this that Tertullian finds the basis for the mystery of baptism: “That the material substance which governs terrestrial life acts as agent likewise in the celestial” (Ch. 3). Water became holy because the Spirit of God hovered over it, thus bestowing the quality of holiness upon it. “All waters, therefore, in virtue of the pristine privilege of their origin, do, after invocation of God, attain the sacramental power of sanctification” (Ch. 4). Tertullian then deals with the difficult question of why the pagans, such as initiates of the Eleusinian mysteries, also use water for ablutions. Are these also baptisms? He answers that in pagan ceremonies demons are active, whereas Christian baptism is the work of the holy angel of God (Ch. 5), He cites many references to water in the Old Testa­ment, such as the Red Sea, the bitter waters of Marah made sweet by God, the water that came from the rock of Horeb, and others (Ex. 14:12-29, 23-25, 17.6). Then, as if drawing a parallel between the first creation out of chaos and the new creation by Christ, he declares, “Never is Christ without water!” He lists the gospel passages in which water is mentioned in connection with Jesus: he was baptized in water, changed water into wine, invited people to come to him and drink “His own sempiternal water,” and so on. Even Pilate’s washing of his hands in water and the water that came out Christ’s side on the cross carry a mysterious signi­ficance (Matt. 3.13-17; John 2.1-11, 7.37; Matt. 10.42; John 4.6; Matt.14.25; Mark 4.36-41; John 13.1-11; Matt. 27.24; John 19.34). In discussing the story of Jesus’ quieting the storm on the sea, Tertullian remarks (Ch. 11) that in this storm the disciples were “baptized” in a manner of speaking. The “sea” in this story, he says, is an allegory of the world (saeculum) and the little boat is the church; when Jesus checked the waters, he checked the world. The rest of Tertullian’s treatise is of little interest to us; it contains practical instructions concerning baptism. His perception of the element of water, however, based upon the first few verses of Genesis, is as full of mythological elements as his understanding of baptism is full of Christian applications of Greco-Roman magi­cal principles.^[358]

Mircea Eliade said: “In all ancient mythologies, “the waters” symbolize: The universal sum of virtualities; they are “fons et

THE IMAGE OF THE GODDESS IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 127 origo, ” “spring and origin,” the reservoir of all the possibilities of existence; they precede every form and support every creation... Immersion in water signifies repression to the formal, re-incor­poration into the undifferentiated mode of preexistence. Emersion repeats the cosmogonic act of formal manifestation; immersion is equivalent to a dissolution of forms... In whatever religious com­plex we find them, the waters invariably retain their function; they disintegrate, abolish forms, “wash away sins”; they are at once purifying and regenerating. Their destiny is to precede the Creation and to reabsorb it...” ^[359]

Consequently, waters were sometimes looked upon as the primor­dial androgynous substance, in which everything was mixed and undifferentiated. Creation came from water by a process of separations and divisions.^[360]

Revelation 12, however, emphasizes the aspect of water which is represented by the image of the dragon, i.e., the destructive, ini­mical force, chaos, the primeval water that, according to Jewish mythology, is restrained in the tehom under the rock in Jerusa­lem, the floodwaters of Deucalion that were remembered in the temple at Hierapolis and in the Athenian Anthesteria. The intent of the author is to describe a cosmic drama, in which the opponent of the destructive forces is the woman clothed with the sun. In a proleptic way her heavenly marriage is consummated here in a hieros gamos that will eventually overcome all separations and reestablish the union of heaven and earth, of God and man. This is the grand theme of Revelation and thus it is with good reason that chapter 12 has been called the center of the entire book.^[361]

5. Conclusions

We have analyzed the ‘woman clothed with the sun” from four different viewpoints because Revelation 12 is, as W. K. C. Guthrie said of all living religions, “a stone of many facets, any one of which can be turned to face the light... ”^[362] We exposed four different aspects of Revelation 12 to the light of pagan mythology in search of a better understanding of the text. It would be relatively easy to conclude from our investigations that Christia­nity is a syncretistic religion that arose as a result of the inter­mingling of many Jewish and pagan myths. Such a statement would not be original. Already at the end of the second century, Celsus, the great scholarly critic of Christianity, had stated that Christianity is “not a venerable or a new branch of instruction.’"^[363] But Christianity is more than the sum total of many pagan myths and customs. We have seen in the foregoing pages that to all of these myths and beliefs Christianity added its own peculiar interpretation and viewpoint, thus creating something new out of what was old. The fact, therefore, that elements of contemporary myths and beliefs abound in Christianity, and particularly, for our concern, in Revelation 12, means only that Revelation 12 cannot be thoroughly understood unless it is accepted as an integral part of a historical process in which our religious ideas and images were formed.^[364] What we read in Revelationl2 is not the free invention of its author, who worked with already existing material available to him in literature, poetry, art, mythology, tales and legends.^[365] Therefore, on the basis of what we have seen in this study, I should like to make the following proposals:

1. In Revelation 12, for the first time in Christian literature, mention is made of a goddess-like figure who resembles in many details the great fertility goddesses of paganism at that time. This means that the concept of a goddess was alive in Christianity and began to resurface at the end of the first century. It is not without significance that this happened in Revelation, for this book is a product of the eastern Mediterranean, close to the world of Asia Minor, which was the center of the worship of Cybele, the Great Mother. We will study this question in greater detail in our next chapter, but already we can see that the reemergence of the “Queen of Heaven” concept in Christianity was very probably due to pagan influences. The Ailion is clearly pregnancy, mother­hood, which is the foundation of all later Mariological investiga­tions.

2. This drama is of cosmic proportions and involves funda­mental issues of universal significance. We are presented with images of the beginning and the end, the separation of heaven and earth and of male and female, and their eventual reinte­gration and unification. The woman, therefore, represents here everything that Caelestis meant for the Carthagenians, the Dea Syria for the worshippers at Hierapolis, and the Great Mother of the Gods for Julian the Apostate: she is the female aspect of that great mystery which is called God. She is what pagans worshipped under various names and forms as the goddess, who reemerges here in all her glory as a component of Christian religious imagi­nation as well.

3. When ancient Greeks, Romans, and other peoples anthro­pomorphized their gods and goddesses, they thought of them as real, personal beings who can have crowns on their heads and robes on their shoulders. They can also be pregnant and have children. Thus, it would be contrary to accepted contemporary usage to see in the figure of the woman something other than a woman, such as the allegory of another concept like the syna­gogue or the church. Regardless of how strong the Old Testament background of Revelation is, this woman is in the distinguished company of other heavenly queens; her position, her robe, her jewelry, her whole appearance identifies her as such. She should be interpreted as the Queen of Heaven of Christianity, Mary, who is soon to be called “Mother of God.”

4. Nor can the image of the woman in Revelation 12 be con­nected with the numerous references to symbolic women in the Old Testament, even though the author used the Old Testament extensively. The crucial fact is that this message was first addressed to Christians, in particular those Christians who lived in an area of Asia Minor that was the center of the cult of Magna Mater and where other “Queens of Heaven” such as Isis were also widely venerated. When somebody in Asia Minor at the end of the first century A.D. was told that a woman clothed with the sun appeared in heaven, with a crown of stars on her head and the moon under her feet, it is unlikely that he or she would imme­diately think of the “daughter of Zion” in the Old Testament. Minimizing the pagan environment of the author and of the intended readership would mean lifting the vision out of its social and religious context; that is why it is not sufficient to interpret the text on the basis of the Old Testament only. Even if it is argued that the Old Testament itself absorbed many non-Jewish ideas and thus pagan elements in Revelation 12 may have come to the author via the Old Testament, the fact remains that the author lived in a pagan world. We will see in our investigations of the cult of Cybele and of the Montanist movement how much the world of Revelation was a part of the spiritual and intellectual world of Asia Minor and how deeply immersed in that culture the author of Revelation 12 must have been. Thus, while drawing on Old Testament elements in the interpretation of Revelation 12 is certainly valid, recognition of the pagan components in the image of the “woman” is not only legitimate but essential.

Our objective, as stated at the beginning of this chapter, has been to investigate whether the woman who appeared to the author of Revelationl2 was a reflection of the pagan “Queen of Heaven,” and if so, to what extent. Our answer is that she is the Queen of Heaven adopted into Christianity.