Showing posts with label Serapis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Serapis. Show all posts

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Isis, Horus, Serapis - IHS - a Pagan Trinity?








I have to wonder when the Mary cult thing in the RC church got started.  It definitely was after Constantine hijacked the faith to suit his military and personal ambitions. 
In a way the mother child icon is thousands of years old.  One has to speculate that maybe all this Mary stuff comes out of Egypt.
There was that church father Cyril of Alexandria who insisted that his coinage of the phrase “Mother of God” was the perfect antidote of whatever flavor of the month heresy was spreading in the young church throughout the superstitious middle east of the time.
“Mother of God” in a way ended the – which came first, the chicken or the egg – Gnostic conundrum of the early church.  It does make Mary an equal of Jesus.  Worthy of equal worship?
A product of a virgin birth has the same DNA as the parent from which it was cloned, though apparently the sex is different.  The spiritual end of the equation or the father or the scientist involved in an experiment of the creation of a child so to speak gets as complicated then in the past, the same as similar real scenarios that exist now in science.  It’s all a matter of labeling and marketing the product, is it not?
But let’s put aside whatever religion bashing you might think that this is.  In terms of modern reality, if Isis was still a viable goddess worthy of worship by the majority of the population, a modern translation would sell better than the ancient myth. 
The modern translation of some future society that will worship Isis again after an atomic apocalypse goes something like this.  The last woman on earth went to a still operating sperm bank and obtained the frozen semen of her dead five star general husband, inseminated herself, and the human race was reborn. 
In terms of ancestor worship alone, a thousand years down the road, the Isis figure would stand out in all human culture and the story with its plausible historical sequences would be accepted as truth. 
“Mother of God” was a term the Egyptians felt comfortable with and in terms of a visual, you have the Isis Horus statue that existed all over the Roman empire from Britain to Alexandria.
In a way I am not sure there was a trinity thing in Egyptian mythology and or religion. 
The assertion by some that I.H.S., a Christogram, really represents the pagan trinity of Isis, Horus and Serapis is probably not true. 
I do find Serapis to be a fascinating god.  He was totally molded by the new Greek rulers of Egypt, the Ptolemies, descendant from Alexander’s conquest of Egypt.  The Greeks did not like the mix of animal with humans in the pantheon of Egyptian gods.  So, they invented the creature known as Serapis, mixing the name Osiris with the name of a bull god Apis.  Serapis was the dominate Egyptian male god for hundreds of years until the last days of paganism at the end of the fourth century.
No doubt when Cyril and his Christian mob took over the last remnants of  the pagan establishment, idols got broken or maybe just chipped a little.  The horns came off of Isis and the measuring cup came off Serapis’ head.  In any case, I have no doubt that the icon of Jesus to this day is really a recycled image of Serapis.  A cultural void left by Isis, mother of Horus and dad Serapis soon got filled in with the icons of the new gods of the eastern church. 


Sunday, July 3, 2011

Constantine the Great's Pwned Sarcophagus



If you tier down to my amateur historian level and try to find something available on the net and not yet available from all those ivy weed college libraries and their ancient, in the last century, bound hardcopy research materials, you start to see some really blatant lies and or chasmic sized discrepancies told by both the Catholic church hierarchy and misc. degreed, vested, meal ticket, publish or perish, historians.
Like after Constantine decriminalized Christianity in 313 C.E. with the Edict of Milan, then you have all these stories about his illiterate mom who he hid away through most of his career. Constantine, being born out of wedlock to a Roman soldier and an inn keeper’s daughter, you then have mom running around the empire nearly eighty years of age finding all the one true relics of this or that member of saints’ bodies and or of course the one true cross. 
The Vatican museum has the above pictured sarcophagus listed as Saint Helena’s final resting place.  Reading around and you get all sorts of PR nonsense about how the sculptures on the stone box represent a hunting scene and that it was intended as Constantine’s own Sarcophagus but mom died first and he shoved her into it because in her old age he had not already planned ahead or built the old lady any resting place. Yeah right.
This Sarcophagus pictures war scenes and torture of prisoners on their way to death and or sacrifice at the hands of Constantine’s secret Sun God Mithra/Serapis army cult religion?
The old lady, who goes to Jerusalem for Sonny to find the true cross in a shape that did not exist in Pilate’s time and nails, then orders the destruction of the Temple of Venus over the site of the Holy Sepulchre and then orders, pays for one of the trashiest, slumfest-e-ist looking monuments in the history of western civilization.  Give me a break.
The Muslims never tore this trashfest architecture down. It got burned down when the candles started a fire and the Muslims paid to rebuild it to insure domestic tranquility. 
The propaganda got turned around and we had the First Crusade.  Sweet.
The old lady gets attached to unsubstantiated male created urban legends, myths, PR lies and such like Mary, the mother of Jesus. She gets recruited to near god like sainthood and evangelistic fervor and non-intelligence promoting Sonny’s new Roman Empire religion as the typical go along female doormat misogyny for men’s mischief and “tradition” (lies). Zzzzz.  Anatomy is destiny or is it merely human politics?
RIP Helena.  You can’t choose your parents and you certainly can’t predict the course of the lives of your children or the institutions they found.