Religious Ramblings

The annual festival of  Vestalia was celebrated in honor of the goddess Vesta in ancient Rome from 7 June until the 15th. No public business was allowed to be conducted and no marriages could be celebrated for the duration of the festival. 

The sanctuary of Vesta was not a temple, but an aedes, a shrine in which the deity was believed to reside. Until the reign of the Emperor Augustus, there was no anthropomorphic representation of Vesta of at her shrine in Rome; instead, the living flame on the hearth tended by the Vestals showed the goddess’ presence. This explains the harsh penalty for a Vestal Virgin allowing the flame to go out: it was believed that the priestess had so disregarded or angered her goddess that Vesta had departed from the shrine, and withdrawn her favor from Rome. 

The Vestal Virgins made mola salsa during this festival, a blend of salt, toasted grain, and water drawn from the sacred spring of Juturna. This mixture was sprinkled on sacred altars during public rituals throughout the year and was offered to the Lares and Penates at household shrines.

Throughout the Vestalia festival, married women were permitted to enter the cella (innermost room) of the aedes, an area usually inaccessible to worshipers. There, they would make offerings and ask Vesta's blessings upon their homes and families. In turn, the worshipers received a portion of the fresh mola salsa for use in their households.

Mills and bakeries were closed on 9 June. The bakeries and mills were garlanded with violets and decorated with miniature loaves of bread. The donkeys, Vesta's sacred animals who turned the mills, had the day off and were adorned with wreaths of violets.

At the end of the final day of the festival, the cella of the aedes was closed to worshipers. The Vestals swept the floors of the aedes clean and disposed of the dust and crumbs in the Tibur, where it was carried away by the flowing river.

Ways to observe the Vestalia in the present include: lighting a candle or oil lamp, making an offering to Vesta of bread, oil, and/or wine, baking bread and/or purchasing baked goods from your local bakery (except on the 9th), making your own mola salsa (see below), and cleaning your household shrine/altar.

Here's a fancy recipe for making mola salsa: https://tavolamediterranea.com/2019/02/07/bread-for-the-gods-mola-salsa/

but I blend about a half teaspoon of coarse salt mixed with a tablespoon of coarsely-ground wheat flour and keep it in a covered bowl on my altar.

Featured image: A fresco from the lararium of a bakery in Pompeii: Vesta is enthroned in the center. She wears purple garments and a wreath of grain. Vesta extends her right hand holding a patera (offering dish) towards a sacred fire on her right and holds aloft a cornucopia with her left hand. A donkey, her sacred animal, stands behind her throne.

Image source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fresco_of_Vesta-Hestia_from_Pompeii.jpg

Inspired by the recent surge of interest towards the Roman augury, or divination by birds, I decided to cover the very basics of this Ancient art. Roman augury is surrounded by a lot of myths further supported by later authors, and the historical information on the rites and logic behind Roman bird divination is relatively scarce.

With Cicero, who was a member of the college of augurs, Livy, Plautus, Virgil, and Ennius as sources I hope to bring up legitimate examples of augury in use as attested by Roman authors. Note that I am not speaking on Greek or Etruscan superstitions as those deserve a separate post.

Due to the lax definition of augurium, some sources note that other types of omen-spotting would be considered augury: noticing dogs or wolves, sneezing, itching, twitching, etc. While curious, these fields require special attention, and I will not be covering them.

All sources are linked at the end of the post.

“Dido”, a commissioned illustration of the legendary founder and queen of Carthage. 

It was a joy to research artifacts and styles from Phoenician culture - lots of Greek, Syrian, Egyptian and other influences. Also note the reference to the Trojan war in the wall paintings!

Medium: Wacom Intuos and Photoshop

The story goes that during the reign of Numa (715–673 BCE), a shield fell to Rome from the sky. One version of this tale says that a voice from the sky proclaimed Rome would survive as long as the shield was preserved; another version says it was the nymph Egeria, mentor of Numa, who so interpreted the prodigy. Numa ordered 11 replica shields to be made, in order to protect the holy shield by confusing would-be thieves. 

Numa also created a priesthood of Mars, the Salii Pallatini, 12 men who performed rituals in honor of Mars during his month, March, and again at the Armilustrium in October. A corresponding priesthood comprised of young women, the Saliae Virgines, may have accompanied the men of the Salii Pallatini in their processions, which featured the singing of hymns and performance of a unique  and energetic dance, which was described as “leaping”; the Saliae maidens definitely joined in the feasting at the temple of Mars Gradivus which followed.

Sources for this post include:

DiLuzio, Meghan J. A Place at the Altar: Priestesses in Republican Rome. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016.

Lucretius' Hymn to Venus, translated by Rolfe Humphries

Creatress, mother of the Roman line, Dear Venus, joy of earth and joy of heaven, All things that live below that heraldry Of star and planet, whose processional Moves ever slow and solemn over us, All things conceived, all things that face the light In their bright visit, the grain-bearing fields, The marinered oceans, where the wind and cloud Are quiet in your presence – all proclaim Your gift, without which they are nothingness. For you that sweet artificer, the earth, Submits her flowers, and for you the deep Of ocean smiles, and the calm heaven shinesWith shoreless light.

Ah, goddess, when the spring Makes clear its daytime, and a warmer wind Stirs from the west, a procreative air, High in the sky the happy-hearted birds, Responsive to your coming, call and cry, The cattle, tame no longer, swim across The rush of river-torrents, or skip and bound In joyous meadows; where your brightness leads, They follow, gladly taken in the drive, The urge, of love to come. So, on you move Over the seas and mountains, over streams Whose ways are fierce, over the greening leas, Over the leafy tenements of birds, So moving that in all the ardor burns For generation and their kind’s increase,

Since you alone control the way things are. Since without you no thing has ever come Into the radiant boundaries of light, Since without you nothing is ever glad, And nothing ever lovable, I need, I need you with me, goddess, in the poem I try to write here, on The Way Things Are.

Every time I read this, I hear the theme from Jurassic Park playing in the background: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDlU08RU7Tk

This also reminds me of the statue "Nature Unveiling Herself Before Science" by Louis Ernest Barrias: https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/nature-unveiling-herself-before-science/RgELeTjHZp4-qQ?hl=en

Today, February 13, is the dies natalis (anniversary) of the dedication of the temple of the indigenous Latin oracular deity Faunus, protector of flocks and herds, on the Tibur Island in 194 BCE.

🙚 ⋄⋅🐐⋄⋅ 🐏 ⋄⋄ ⋅❁⋅ ⋄⋄ 🙚 ⋄⋄ ⋅❀⋅ ⋅⋄ 🙘 ⋄⋅ ⋅❁⋅ ⋄⋅ 🐑⋅⋄🐐⋄⋄ 🙘

Today, January 1, Roman polytheists honor Janus, the deity who presides over doorways (januae) and archways (jani), and, by extension, all beginnings and endings. As the gate-keeper of Olympus, he permits the prayers of mortals to enter and to be received by the gods, for which reason he is invoked at the beginning and end of all prayers and religious rituals.

“Greetings, Father Janus! Bless the beginning of this year. Keep me safe this year, and guard my family, my friends, and my home.”

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Head of Janus, Vatican museum, Rome.

Photo: Loudon Dodd

Photo source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Janus1.JPG

Image license:  GNU Free Documentation License

—

Amarantos Argyris

Hymn to Saturn

Made for @dimagnitemplum

Saturnalia is an ancient Roman religious festival honoring Saturn, who was pardoned after his expulsion from Olympus by Jupiter and subsequently regarded as a benevolent god of agricultural abundance.

The first documented Saturnalia was held in 497 BCE for the dedication of the Temple of Saturn in Rome. An annual festival commemorating the dies natalis (anniversary) of this event was thereafter held on December 17. The celebration proved so popular that it was extended to three days, then to an entire week, from December 17 to 23. There was a 24 hour break to take care of home and business - and then everyone went back to celebrating with the dies natalis of Sol Invictus on December 25!

The Saturnalia recalled the mythical Age of Saturn, when crops grew without human toil and humanity lived in harmony with nature and each other. Elements of the festival included days off from work, gatherings of family and friends, wearing brightly-colored garments, preparing and indulging in copious amounts of food and drink, playing games, attending theatrical and musical performances, giving gifts, decorating homes and businesses with garlands and wreaths of evergreens gleaming with sparkly ornaments, light from candles, lamps, torches, and bonfires - all of which probably sound at least a little bit familiar! 

The reversal of normal societal roles was emblematic of Saturnalia: the emperor bestowed largess upon soldiers and the populace, employers gave bonuses to workers, families with the means to do so gave food and clothing the poor, owners served their slaves and the wealthy waited on their servants, children were allowed to attend theatrical performances and to gamble.

The traditional greeting during this celebration is “Io, Saturanalia!” (Io is pronounced ”ee-o” or “yo”).

If you're able to do so, I hope you will continue the Saturnalia tradition of gifts and role-reversals by supporting your local food bank, shelter, and/or warming center.

Today at the taberna I said “Io Saturnalia!” to the cashier. She said “Merry Christmas, sir” back to me. I smiled and said “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. Emperor Julian has given us Saturnalia back.” She started crying tears of joy and said “Io Saturnalia” and then everyone in the taberna clapped.