The Festival of Bacchus
Not long afterwards Athenodorus excused himself and took us all back to his lecture room. I asked him what he thought of Paul and he hesitated noticeably before replying.
"He is quite clearly a well educated man - and I presume he is as learned in the philosophy of his own country as he is in ours. It may be that which has affected his judgement, because this business of a bodily resurrection is absolutely contrary to everything the best philosophers and scientists have taught. I just don't know what to think: he is quite definite that he has personally met this Jesus."
"Well?" Alexander demanded as we walked home after the class. "What did you think?"
"I agree with Athenodorus," Lucias declared. "Whoever heard of a dead body coming to life? It's ridiculous."
"I'm not so sure," I spoke thoughtfully. "I'm like old Hephaeston: learning is all very well but I prefer the evidence of my own eyes."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lucias demanded.
"For example," I defended myself. "You know that there are sceptics who doubt the old stories of the gods and heroes, stories such as that of Perseus and Andromeda. Do you remember the time Hephaeston told us about his visit to Joppa, how he saw the very rock to which Andromeda was chained?175"
"Oh come on!" Lucius sounded scornful.
"Then there's Glauke's fountain176 here in Corinth," I continued. "That's more evidence that the old stories are true. If this Paul has seen something with his own eyes, that deserves careful consideration, no matter what the sophists say."
"Yes," Alexander broke in, "With personal testimony there's really only one question: Is the witness trustworthy or not? Paul doesn't seem like a fanatic or a liar."
"Hmmm." Lucias wasn't convinced.
"Listen, Paul is going to speak again in our synagogue on the Sabbath," Alexander told us. "Why don't you come and listen?"
"When is that?" Lucias asked.
"On the day sacred to Saturn," I reminded him.
"Ah." Lucias shook his head. "That's the festival of Bacchus."
Festivals to Bacchus occur fairly regularly and are very popular, especially with the common people. All the Bacchic societies have their own day to celebrate their particular mystery but with the city society things are done on a grand scale: there are choirs, dramatic performances and free drinks for everyone. As a newly initiated member, I certainly wasn't going to miss out on this year's festival177.
"Count me out as well," I said. "I certainly don't want to miss the celebrations. Lucias plans to visit his Scapha and I met a most attractive girl up at the Artemision this morning. I'm going to try and get my father to give me the money for her as a festival treat."
"But Paul is going to speak in the morning," Alexander argued. "You could come and hear him and then go on to your celebrations afterwards."
"What time in the morning?" Lucias asked. "Don't forget about the early morning rites."
"Not until the third hour178," Alexander replied.
After a little more persuasion we both agreed. After all, the early morning rituals were usually fairly boring: long prayers, libations179 and hymns. An excuse that would allow me to sneak away as soon as possible sounded like a good idea.
For once Cartimandua slept late and it was Petosiris who woke us before dawn on Saturn's day. I washed and dressed hurriedly and rushed out to the hall where my parents were waiting. Together with all the Greek slaves except Antiochus, who remained behind to guard the house, we went up to the city centre and the temple of Bacchus. I joined in the hymns, listened to the prayers and watched the sacred procession pass into the temple, but I didn't see any of the ceremonies, because the crowd was too great.
As soon as the procession reappeared I told my mother that I had arranged to meet my friends and slipped away, pushing through the crowd towards the synagogue. Alexander was standing on the doorstep waiting for me and not long after I arrived Lucias turned up as well.
"Right, come on in. The prayers have just started."
This was the first time I had attended a service in the synagogue and I looked around curiously. There were about fifty men with sacred robes draped over their shoulders180 standing facing a central platform on which was a holy object covered with cloths. I wondered whether this was the statue of Alexander's god and then remembered that Jews are forbidden to make statues.
"Is it permitted to say what is under the cloths?" I whispered.
"Sure," Alexander whispered back. "It is a box containing our sacred books, the writings of Moses and the prophets."
"Where is your god?" I asked. "I mean, I know that you don't have statues but you must have something that you worship."
Alexander shook his head. "We worship the Invisible God."
"Yes, but where is he?" I persisted.
"He's all around us," Alexander explained. "He's too great to live in any temple that men could build. In fact, we often say that the whole world is just God's footstool."
I shivered. There's something spooky about a god who is all around you, watching you all the time. I much prefer our own gods, who are safely tucked away on Mount Olympus or in the darkness of their temples. My mind pictured the little ivory statue of Zeus I keep in my bedroom, with its filling of olive oil181. You knew where you were with gods like that. I glanced around again at the chanting men and noticed something else strange.
"Where are all the women?" I asked. I knew that Jewish women did worship, because many Greek and Roman women were fascinated by the Jews' religion and customs and accompanied them to their services.
"They're all upstairs," Alexander replied, nodding towards an upper story where the openings into the balcony were covered by a wooden lattice. "They don't pray with the men in case each sex distracts the other."
A door opened at the back of the room and three old men paced slowly towards the platform, their long beards giving them an impressive air, like prophets - except that their movments were calm and solemn rather than frenzied and inspired. A fourth man followed them and as he came out from the shadows I recognised Paul.
The chanting that filled the air increased its intensity, rose to a crescendo and abruptly stopped. One of the old men stepped forward and began to sing, a plaintive air in the Dorian mode182 that sent shivers down my spine. At certain points in his song the assembled men chanted responses in a ragged chorus. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, showing that I was in the presence of a great and holy mystery which it was not right to put into Greek.
"Are you sure it is all right for me to be here?" I whispered to Alexander. "I mean, I haven't been initiated or anything."
"Of course it's all right. Our services aren't secret; only the temple in Jerusalem is closed to non-Jews, and that's only because it is the place where God manifests himself."
I edged my way over to a pillar and leaned my back against it. Lucias came and stood beside me but we maintained a reverent silence while the Jews celebrated their mysteries. Eventually the chanting and singing ended and Paul stood up to speak. To my relief he spoke in good Greek.
"Brothers - men of Israel and all you who fear God - I have already told you how the God of our fathers promised, through the holy prophets, a messiah who would deliver Israel. I have told you how Jesus of Nazareth went about in Israel, fulfilling these prophecies by the works of power he did. I have told you how the rulers and leaders of our nation conspired against him and had him crucified by the Roman governor."
"If nothing else, that would make me favour this Jesus," Alexander whispered in my ear, his voice pitched low so that Lucias would not hear. We Greeks do not love our Roman conquerors either, even if we do not have the burning hatred that the Jews seem to show.
"I have come to preach the good news to you, that by the death of Jesus - the crucifixion of Jesus - we can have forgiveness of our sins. I do not seek to dress this message up with human philosophy or human wisdom, lest the cross of Christos be emptied of its power.
"This message of the cross sounds foolish to most people, but to those whom God has called, whom God is seeking to save, it is the power of God. As the prophet Isaiah said, 'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.'183 Who, therefore, are the truly wise? Who is the scholar? Who is the real philosopher of today?
"God has made the so-called 'wise' to look foolish. In his wisdom God has permitted their theories to lead them away from the true God, but now, through the 'foolishness' of the cross which I preach, he is pleased to save those who believe.
"You Jews look for miraculous signs to confirm what I say, the Greeks look for subtle philosophical arguments, but my message is simply the cross: a stumbling block to you Jews, simple nonsense to the Greeks, but the Christos is the power and wisdom of God to those who are called by him. After all, God's simplicity is wiser than man's wisdom and God's weakness is stronger than man's strength."
There was something about the way Paul spoke, the burning zeal of his words, the absolute certainty of his convictions, that attracted me. Athenodorus was always quoting from Aristotle or Plato and then contradicting them with another quotation from Eatosthenes or Heracleitus or some other philosopher, so that you didn't know what to believe.
I made up my mind to speak to Paul after the service was over, but I didn't get the chance. Men from the congregation crowded round him afterwards, arguing fiercely - mainly about verses from the sacred writings of the Jews and often in their own language - and eventually Lucias and I grew tired of waiting and went home.
Cartimandua had some food ready, so I ate quickly and then set out for the agora. It was a struggle to get through the city gate, as peasants from the countryside swarmed in to see the show. Upper class people like us, who lived in the suburbs outside the walls, were forced to mingle with slaves, farmers, sailors and stall-holders. By the smell, I would say that not one of them was rich enough to patronise the city baths!184 Mind you, I was glad that I was walking. I was able to push my way through the crowd as opportunity offered, but I saw a litter belonging to one of our neighbours stuck in the mob, swaying and lurching as the slaves carrying it were bumped and jostled by the people around them. I grinned at the sound of women's screams that came from behind the drawn curtains, but there was nothing I could do, so I left them to it.
The crowd was even denser in the agora, but eventually I managed to force my way through to my father's shop. My parents and some of their friends were already there, sitting on chairs near the window of the upper room and eating a festive meal of yellow food185. Naturally I joined them, as did Lucius when he finally arrived. After that there was plenty of laughter and conversation until the sound of trumpets told us that the procession was approaching. We all crowded to the window to watch.
First came a band of city watchmen to clear the way, a task they accomplished only with the greatest difficulty. Following them was a military band whose blaring trumpets and pounding drums warned everyone that the god and his devotees were approaching. Next came a couple of torch-bearers and after them a long line of women who bore baskets filled with all kinds of fruit, but mostly grapes, symbols of the fruitfulness given by the god.
After the women there was a choir of young boys, accompanied by pipes and flutes, who sang a hymn in praise of Bacchus. Then came the priests and the officials of the mystery, most of whom were wearing wreaths of vine leaves around their heads. They were carrying sacred goblets and other emblems of the god, including a golden bunch of grapes from which a thin stream of red wine dripped onto the ground, staining the white stones of the marketplace.
Then came the part of the procession that everyone had been waiting for: a great crowd of initiates who leaped and danced to wild flute music. Shouts of "Io! Io!" greeted their appearance and spurred them on to a greater frenzy. Some staggered from side to side as though drunk - as they may well have been, for wine assists the god to take possession of his worshippers - while others babbled and raved in so wild a fashion that no one could doubt but that they were inspired by a truly divine frenzy.
These men were drawing a wheeled cart on which the statue of the god stood, decently veiled from the eyes of the profane. The statue swayed from side to side as the cart bumped over the paving stones so that the god himself seemed to be staggering like his devotees. I leaned out of the window and yelled "Io! Io!" to show that I too was an initiate.
Following the god came a crowd of young women, priestesses of the goddess, but instead of keeping their heads modestly lowered, these girls eyed the men with brazen stares186 and waved and cat-called to those they favoured. If a man waved back at one of the girls, she would leave the procession to speak to him and often returned with the man by her side, so that soon it was a mixed crowd of men and women who cheered and danced their way across the agora and out through the grand gateway to the Lecheae Road.
That reminded me about Charite. I came back inside the window and went to stand beside my father.
"Dad, could I have twenty drachma?"
My father turned his head to look at me.
"A girl?"
I nodded.
"One of those?"
"Well, I didn't see her in the procession, but she is up at the Artemision."
"Bit expensive, isn't she?"
"Could be." Dad always harped on about cost, yet he thought nothing of spending a thousand drachma on a piece of Babylonian material for my mother. "She's new, I've never seen her before."
"There's plenty you haven't seen before," my father chided me, "and new ones all the time. Tired of your Gaulish girl already?"
"Oh no," I assured him, "but this girl's different. Cartimandua is more sort of - I don't know - more sort of homely." I didn't dare tell him that already I was sick of Cartimandua and the silent loathing with which she submitted to me at night.
"Yellow hair and blue eyes and he calls her homely!" My father rolled his eyes dramatically while my mother tittered. "Ah well. You're only young once."
He put his hand into his tunic and drew out his purse. He undid the drawstrings and carefully counted out the twenty drachma.
"Here," he said, handing the coins to me. "In honour of the god."
"Thanks, Dad. I'll see you later. Lucius, coming?"
Scapha, of course, was waiting for Lucius when we reached the Artemision - I wonder if it's true that the Romans are better organised than us Greeks? - but to my annoyance Charite from Meropea was nowhere to be found. Lucius went off with his girl, leaving me to carry on hunting on my own. None of the other girls had seen her since the procession started and though I received many offers I didn't want anyone else and made up my mind to go back home to where Cartimandua would be waiting.
Half-way down the stairs I met a group of girls coming up and drew to one side to let them pass. One of them left the group and stopped in front of me.
"Were you looking for me, young lord?" asked a familiar voice.
"Charite!" I exclaimed. "No one knew where you were."
The girl shrugged. "There's so many of us," she explained. "Still, you've found me now. Have you got the money?"
I put my hand in the fold of my tunic and jingled the coins. The girl grinned and took my arm.
"Come on, then. There were plenty of sacrifices this morning, so I'm sure I can find some lamb stew for you. I should charge you extra for food, but a nice young man like you . . ." She squeezed my arm. "I'm sure I could even find some wine if I look hard enough."
"I'll pay for the wine," I boasted. "I've got plenty of money."
"Oooh!" She looked up at me admiringly. "And I don't even know your name."
175 Pliny records in his Natural History V.xiv "Further along the coast is . . . the Phoenician city of Joppa. This is said to have existed before the flood of Deucalion; it is situated on a hill and in front of it is a rock on which they point out marks made by the chains with which Andromeda was fettered." Furthermore, Pausanias in his Guide to Greece IV.xxxv adds that "Water as red as blood is to be found in the country of the Hebrews, near the city of Joppa: this water is very close to the sea and the people there have a story about the spring, that when Perseus slaughtered the sea-monster to which Kepheus' daughter was offered, this is where he washed off the blood." Return
176 According to the legend (which people back then regarded as firm history) Jason got hold of the golden fleece with the help of Medea, who then fled with him to Greece. The couple found refuge in Corinth but there Jason fell in love with Glauke, daughter of the local ruler. In revenge Medea, a witch, sent Glauke a beautiful dress which was poisoned and killed her as soon as she put it on. Pausanias, in his Guide to Greece II.v, tells us, "If you leave the market place by another road towards Sikyon, you can see a temple and a bronze statue of Apollo on your right and a little further off, Glauke's Spring. They say she threw herself into it, thinking this water cured Medea's poisons." Return
177 The Greek months overlapped with ours, so their first month, Plynterion, was the equivalent of June/July. According to an inscription found on Thasos, in this month was celebrated the festival of the Deudekatheria or the Twelve Gods. The two festivals of the Alexandreia, in honour of Alexander the Great, and Thesmophoria, in honour of Demeter and Persephone, were celebrated in the second month.
The third month, Boedromion, saw the Great Asclepieia in honour of Asclepius. In addition Athens celebrated a day of thanksgiving for the victory of Marathon on the sixth day of this month.
In the fourth month there were four festivals, the Demetrieia in honour of Demeter, the Heroxeinia in honour of the Heroes, the Dioscuria in honour of the Dioscuri and the Great Komara in honour of Apollo Komaios. The fifth month, Apaturion, saw the Apaturia in honour of Zeus Patroos and the Festival of All the Gods, but especially of Athena Patroie.
The sixth month, Maimakterion, had the Maimakteria in honour of Zeus, while the month of Poseideion, our December/January, had the Poseideia in honour of Poseidon. In the ninth month the Anthesterion was held the Anthesteria in honour of Dionysus and Soteria in honour of Hercules the Saviour (Soter).
The tenth month, called Galaxion in the Thasos inscription but Munichion in Athens, saw the Dionysia in honour of Dionysus followed by the Diasia in honour of Zeus in the eleventh month, Artemesion. In the twelfth month, Thargelion (or Scirrophorion in Attica), the Great Herakleia and the Choreia were celebrated, in honour respectively of Hercules and Dionysus. Return
178 The Roman clock began at sunrise, usually about our 6.0 am. The third hour, therefore, is approximately 9.0 am. Although there were water clocks and other devices for measuring time, in popular usage the hours were longer in summer and shorter in winter. Return
179 Drink offerings poured out on the ground. Most people tipped a drop or two from the first glass of wine they were offered as a libation to one god or another. Return
180 It is doubtful whether Jews of the first century AD covered their heads as modern Jews do. In 1 Corinthians 11:4 Paul argues that "Every man who prays or prophesies with his head covered dishonours his head" and "Does not the very nature of things teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a disgrace to him." (v. 14) In view of Paul's Jewish background he is hardly likely to have spoken so confidently about Natural Law if his own customs had been different. Return
181 Pliny, in Natural History XV.viii notes that "There is also a use of old olive oil for certain kinds of diseases and it is also deemed to be serviceable for preserving ivory from decay: at all events, the inside of the statue of Saturn at Rome has been filled with oil." Return
182 Greek music was composed in one of seven modes, of which the Dorian corresponds to our minor and the Lydian to our major keys. Those who are musically inclined may wish to sit at the piano and play an octave from E to E1 on the white keys only. This is the Dorian mode. Add in one sharp (as with our conventions, this will be F-sharp) and you have the Hypodorian mode. Two sharps gives you the Phrygian while three the Hypophrygian mode. Four sharps - our key of E-major - gives the Lydian mode while five sharps give the Hypolydian. No sharps but one flat gives the final mode, the Mixolydian.
The different modes were supposed to rouse different emotions. The Mixolydian was a wailing mode, suitable for laments, the Lydian was a relaxed, even effeminate mode while the Dorian was more mainly and warlike.
People were expected to recognise the different modes and respond in an appropriate manner. Plutarch, in his essay On Listening, tells how "Once, when the poet Euripides was prompting his chorus in a lyrical ode he had composed, a member of the chorus laughed. Euripides said, 'It is only your insensitivity and ignorance that make you laugh while I am singing in the Mixolydian mode.'" (p. 46) Return
183 Like most Old Testament passages quotes by Paul, Isaiah 29:14 reads slightly differently. This has two causes: in the first place Paul may have been quoting from memory, which might lead to one or two words being different. Secondly Paul usually quoted from the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament, which has certain differences from the Hebrew. It was thought that these differences were due to the inadequacies of the translators, but thanks to the Dead Sea Scrolls we now know that many of these variations originated in some of the ancient Hebrew manuscripts. Return
184 This may come as a surprise to those who thought that, with all their public baths, the ancient Romans must have been exceptionally clean. In the course of the dinner with Trimalchio, Petronius in his Satyricon causes Trimalchio to remark, "I gave orders for each guest to have his own table. At the same time these smelly slaves won't crowd so." (p. 50) It would seem that baths, like most other things, were only for the rich. Return
185 For some reason saffron seems to have been associated with religion. In the Satyricon Petronius tells how his hero was surprised by Trimalchio's ostentation. "Greedily we stretched out our hands to this display and in a flash a fresh series of jokes restored the general gaiety. Every single cake and every single apple needed only the slightest touch for a cloud of saffron to start pouring out and the irritating vapour to come right at us. Naturally we thought the dish must have some religious significance to be smothered in such an odour of sanctity, so we raised ourselves to a sitting position and cried: 'God save Augustus, the Father of his People!'" (p. 72) Return
186 People often inveigh against the Corinthians, as if they were especially immoral and debauched. It is interesting that Pausanias, in his Guide to Greece makes no mention of this at all when he describes Corinth. (It is true that he lived about 260 AD and we may hope that Christianity had made some changes in the city.) Yet he is not silent on other cities where behaviour was less than restrained. In VII.xxi he remarks: "There are twice as many women at Patrai as there are men: and if ever women belonged to Aphrodite, they do. They mostly make their living with the flax that grows in Elis, which they weave into the nets that ornament women's hair, and into all sorts of clothing." I think it is just to conclude that the ancient world in general had a relatively lax attitude towards sex and that such strict moral codes as existed were honoured more in the breach than in the observance. Return
