On the Third Book of the Corpus Hermeticum: Contextualization

I have to admit that the last post I put up, my own translation of Book III of the Corpus Hermeticum (CH III), is something I’m personally proud of.  It’s a small thing, but it’s also my first major translation of any actual body of text from Greek into English, and though I’m sure I’ve made some errors (or otherwise interesting choices) in my translation, it’s also a major start for me to really start chewing on a formal Hermetic text above and beyond just reading it.  There’s something different about the actual act of getting into the core language and giving it for a spin yourself.  Of course, the translation being done is just the first part.  In order to really understand what’s written, we also need to see more about it beyond just the words written on the page, and this is where contextualizing comes into play.

CH III is…not an easy text; it’s hard to understand, the Greek is imperfect, there are obvious lacunae and corruption with the text, and it’d seem that every translator who’s talked about it has brought up complications with the text.  Copenhaver directs us to look at Nock/Festugière as well as Scott “for the obscurity of this very corrupt and overwritten treatise”, and Scott calls it “so corrupt as to be wholly meaningless”.  Dodd is somewhat easier on it and says that the “text is somewhat obscure, and certainly corrupt at some points”, although “with a few comparatively slight emendations, can be read and understood for the most part” even if “there remain points at which…we do not know what the author wrote or what he meant”.  Little can be known about the context for CH III in general, but there are a few things that we can figure out.  Between Scott, Dodd, and Nock/Festugière themselves, plenty has already been said, so I’ll just summarize their points along these lines:

  • Given that the final lines of CH III reflect the opening lines in the same language, CH III is almost certainly a complete work unto itself, not an extract of a longer text.
  • The author of CH III was likely familiar with the Septuagint, or at least the Book of Genesis, given the similarity of language and phrasing in the text.  Likewise, the author was familiar with the “Mosaic [Jewish] account of creation“.  However, anything specifically resembling Christian or Gnostic elements are lacking.
  • CH III expresses more Stoic sensibilities and philosophy than Platonic ones above and beyond other Hermetic texts, even those that also have a heavy Stoic presence in them.
  • In addition to the Mosaic and Stoic elements, there is a subtle suggestion that the author of CH III was also familiar with the Egyptian account of creation.
  • The author of CH III did not have a firm grasp of proper, fluent Greek, but what they did have was definitely influenced by idioms and specific turns of phrasing otherwise found in the Septuagint and other Hellenized Jewish literature.
  • As a result, we can say that the author was either an Egyptian pagan or a highly syncretic, unorthodox Jew from Egypt who took no small inspiration from both Hellenistic philosophy and Jewish doctrine.  Dodd says that this author “took pains to [take the account of creation form the Hebrew Scriptures and] re-interpret it in terms of Greek philosophy for a pagan public”, but that may be a bit too strong of a stance to take.
  • CH III is one of the few texts that isn’t presented in dialog or letter format.  Scott calls it “the concentrated essence of some unknown Egyptian’s reflections on the universe”; Nock and Festugière call it “a hymn in prose”.
  • Despite the obvious corruption of the text, the confusing language here can be seen in parallels among other Hermetic texts and fragments, especially the Stobaean Fragments, which suggest that some of the language here goes back to the earliest treatises in the Hermetic tradition.
  • It is likewise one of the few Hermetic texts where Hermēs (or any of his students that might give a mythic link to him) isn’t even mentioned by name.  Except, of course, in the title, but that may well be a later addition to the text rather than an original part of it.
  • No fixed date can be ascribed to when CH III was written, but we know that it had to have been written between the third century bce and the third century ce.  Scott, based on the similarity of CH III with the Sanchuniathon, posits that CH III was written sometime in the first century ce, though Dodd says that “it might well go back to the time before Posidonius, since its Stoicism is uninfluenced by Platonism”, so before the mid-first century bce.  However, there’s as yet no way to state a more specific timeframe than this, so perhaps between 100 bce and 100 ce.

One of the biggest observations to make here, given all the above, is that CH III is perhaps closest to Book I of the Corpus Hermeticum (CH I), i.e. “The Divine Poimandrēs” itself.  Like CH III, CH I also has no direct reference to Hermēs (although later Hermetic texts in the Corpus Hermeticum do refer to Poimandrēs by name), and there are also Jewish and Stoic elements in CH I, though perhaps to a lesser extent than in CH III.  There are also particular choices of word and turns of phrase that are common to both in ways we might not otherwise expect.  It may be that CH III, being the shorter and more complete, was written first and CH I was written with that in mind, or they may both have been written under the same general cultural/philosophical/religious milieu with references to the same (specifically Jewish) text.  However, just as notable as the similarities are the differences: unlike CH I, CH III does not discuss redemption or immortality, but simply discusses a bare-bones creation story and discusses a simple approach to life on Earth, almost in a way that (in the words of Nock) resembles the “extreme darkness” of the “atmosphere of Judaism of the type of [Book of] Ecclesiastes before eschatological hopes for nature or for the individual had become important”.  As a result, we can probably safely make the guess that CH III is indeed older than most of the rest of Hermetic literature.  Heck, it may even be properly proto-Hermetic rather than properly Hermetic, given that it does lack certain themes, motifs, and traits we see elsewhere in Hermetic literature, and that it was included with other Hermetic texts based on its affinities (or perhaps originating influence) by later Hermetic students.

And that’s about all that can be said about that, or at least from what I can find regarding the provenance and origin of CH III.  After that, I suppose we should begin taking a look at the rest of the classical Hermetic canon to see parallels or influences on or from CH III, and there are indeed at least a few for us to consider.

Notably, taking a look at the Definitions of Hermēs Trismegistus to Asclepius (DH) can be helpful here.  Of all the sets of aphorisms in DH, the entire second set which discusses cosmogony and cosmology is perhaps most like the first two parts of CH III.  Specifically, DH II.2—4 and II.5 reads (Mahé translation):

Heaven is an eternal body, an immutable body, unalterable and mixed up out of soul and Nous. Air is the separation of heaven from the earth or the conjunction of heaven with earth. What is air? They call ‘air’ the interval between heaven and earth, by which they are not separated from each other, since heavens and earth are united (with each other) by the air.

Earth is the support of the world, the basis of the elements, the nurse of the living (beings), the receptacle of the dead; for (it comes) last after fire and water, since it became what (it is) after fire and water.  What is the power of the world? To keep up for ever the immortal (beings), such as they came into being, and to always change the mortal.

Water is a fecund essence, the support of earth, as a nutritive essence.

Fire is a sterile essence, the duration of the immortal bodies and the destruction of the mortal: an infertile substance, in as much (it belongs to) the destructive fire which makes (things) disappear; and the perpetuation of the immortal (beings), since what cannot be consumed by fire is immortal and indestructible, but the mortal can be destroyed by fire.

J.-P. Mahé notes specifically that the reference to “the support of earth” in DH II.4 resembles the first two parts of CH III in the cosmogony, as well as CH I.5, the part of the Divine Poimandrēs that talks about how the Word descended upon the chaos and separated the elements, leaving water and earth behind.  There’s this repeated notion (which is far from limited to Hermetic texts) that the creation of the world started in a chaotic mass that, due to the interference and influence of a holy light, separated out with Fire at the top, Water and Earth at the bottom mixed together, and Air separating (but also joining) the two.

We should also note that the very first lines of CH III, as well as the last, can also be seen reflected or echoed in the Asclepius (AH), specifically AH 3.  Copenhaver translates it as:

The elements by which the whole of matter has been formed, then, are four: fire, water, earth, air.  One matter, one soul, and one God.

But, perhaps more stylistically and clearly, Salaman translates that last statement as:

…The cosmos is one, the soul is one, God is one.

Of course, as noted earlier, CH I.5 brings up the cosmogony of the Divine Poimandrēs in a way highly reminiscent of CH III.2, though with one major important difference.  In CH I, in the beginning there was only Light, it was within the Light that a primordial dark chaos arose, and the divine word that separated out the elements from the primordial mass descends from the light onto the darkness.  In CH III, on the other hand, we start with a primordial dark chaos in the abyss with no reference to preexisting light, and a light arises from the mixture of Water and Earth (“up from under the wet sand”).  This notion of light arising out of wet sand bears strong similarity to the Benben myth of ancient Egypt, the first mound of earth that arose from the primordial and abyssal waters of Nun, resembling the peaks of silt and sand that emerged from the Nile’s recess after its flood.  That’s the one major difference between the two, along with Nock’s and Festugière’s notion that CH III posits a totally immanent deity instead of a transcendent one, and as I discussed earlier on:

Note that this vision of revelation [in CH I] is given to Hermēs from the perspective of God, who (arguably does or does not) exist in Light. Before the creation of matter itself, all is Light; it’s only when God makes a little room within himself, within the Light, can there be a darkness, within which matter can manifest and take shape, and once it does, God sends forth from the Light the Logos, the “holy word”, which puts the process of creation into motion. That’s virtually what we see here in Book III, too, just from the perspective of the space-within-God where matter first manifests; after all, darkness was the beginning of creation, but God preexisted creation in Light.  In other words, Light is still pre-eminent in Creation, it’s just that it hasn’t reached where the darkness existed “by divine power in chaos”.  Likewise, although Nock and Festugière claim that Book III has God being only immanent without being transcendent of creation, that can only really be said if you ignore any implications of transcendence in this account of creation; just because something is not made explicit doesn’t mean the text denies it. I see no real issue here in mismatch between the cosmogonies of Book I and Book III; it’s just that Book III is easier to grok from what we or other common people might expect, already born and present here in creation.

Beyond that, the rest of CH III’s cosmogony and cosmology, though sparse and high-level, is still solidly within the usual Hermetic notion: four elements with Fire at the top and Earth plus Water at the bottom with Air standing in between joining the two, seven heavens for the seven wandering stars, constellations above them for the fixed stars, and the like.

More along the lines of the third part of CH III that discusses the creation of life and of humanity, and especially the works and purposes of humanity, DH IX.7 reads:

Humans work the land, (and) stars adorn heaven.  The gods have heaven; humans, heaven, earth, and sea; but the air is common to gods and humans.

This statement, too, touches on what Hermēs discusses in AH 8, which has the major points of:

  • The intelligible God, the “master and shaper of all things”, made a second god, sensible in the sense of being able to be seen and sensed.  (In other words, Theos made Cosmos, or alternatively, Nous made Logos.) The sensible God is beautiful to the intelligible God, and is full of “the goodness of everything”.
  • To further admire the sensible God, God made humanity (the third god), “imitator of his reason and attentiveness” and in the divine likeness of himself.  However, humanity could not exist as divine image alone, so God made humanity a material wrapping, a body of flesh, and thus made humans as both eternal soul and mortal body.  This was done in such a way so that humans could begin “wondering at heavenly beings and worship them, tending to earthly beings and governing them”.
  • Humans take charge over the four elements and by them commence to engage in works of agriculture, pasturage, building, harbors, navigation, social intercourse, and especially reciprocal exchange which is “the strongest bond among humans or between humanity and the parts of the world that are water and earth”.  Further, it is the learning, discovery, and use of arts and sciences that “preserves this earthly part of the world”, and that God willed that the world would be incomplete without them.

AH 10 continues along similar lines:

  • God is the governor of all things, but especially with Humanity, who is the governor of composite things (i.e. material, manifest things).
  • Humanity is responsible for the whole of creation, which is the “proper concern of his attentiveness”, and strives to adorn the cosmos as the cosmos adorns them so as to know the cosmos so that the cosmos knows them.
  • In so doing, humanity becomes mindful of their role in the cosmos and what is useful for them, how they should act, and the propriety of giving thanks and praise to God in honoring his image (as cosmos, the second god) as well as themselves (as humanity, the third god made in the likeness of the first).

Although we can find bits in other Hermetic texts to echo the first three parts of CH III, it’s that last section of CH III that’s hard to find something concrete about.  Parts of it kinda resemble AH 8 above, especially the various works of mankind, but CH III doesn’t really talk about redemption, salvation, reincarnation, preservation of the the soul through the dissolution of the body that we call “death”, or the like.  Scott continues to say that this last part of CH III, in its absence of discussing anything about these topics, thus suggests the contrary, that “nothing of a man continues to exist after his death, except his ‘name’ (i.e. the memory of him in the minds of living men); and even that, in most cases, fades away in a little while”, disparaging earthly monuments for their impermanence.  I find this too strong a stance to take, personally; just because a text doesn’t bring up something doesn’t mean it rules it out, either.  Per Copenhaver, Fowden interprets this last paragraph as a strong monist worldview to mean that it “envisages man’s whole development and fulfillment in terms of this earthly life”.  CH I.12—13 likewise brings up the notion of humanity being made in God’s image, bestowed with all of God’s works, and engaged in both the works of God and their own works, as well as the works of all the other powers of the cosmos—though, admittedly, this was before his incarnation in Nature, and CH I is more strongly dualist than CH III in this regard.

The final part of CH III does mention the role of fate established by the stars, though Scott notes that “the writer does not ad that men, by observing the stars, can discover beforehand what is destined for them[;] if this were added, the view expressed would amount to a belief in astrology”.  Again, a lack of one opinion does not imply the existence of its opposite, and given CH III’s exhortation for us to contemplate Heaven and the courses of the heavenly gods who are themselves inextricably intertwined with fate and destiny, it makes sense that this reference is easier read as an implicit acknowledgement of the power of astrology, a classic Hermetic stance indeed.  Although the powers of the planets and stars is more commonly termed “fate” in other Hermetic texts, it is also said that Fate is a handmaiden or servant to Necessity, and Necessity is the handmaiden to Providence, which is nothing less than the express will of God.  In that light, whatever Providence establishes to be done, Necessity arranges for it to be done with all its side effects, and Fate implements it through the passage and influence of the stars.  Thus, in this view of the relationship of Necessity to Fate and to God, when CH III mentions that “all that is diminished will be renewed by Necessity”—especially when it also says that such renewal will be done “by the…gods and by the course of the measured wheel of Nature”—it implies that the renewal of all things is expressly the will of God.  Scott has a point here in that “that which decays and passes away is ‘renewed’, but only by substitution[;] the individual perishes, but the race is immortal[;] the dead do not live again, but others are born to proceed them”.  That is certainly one valid way to read this section, but only based on assumptions and the absence of contrary implications, and again is a stance I find too strong to take in reading CH III.

There’s probably more that we can point out as commonalities or stuff to pick out as differences between CH III and the rest of the Hermetic canon, especially when it comes to the broader literature of Roman Republic-period Stoicism or Hellenized Judaism, but this is enough to give us an idea of what we’re looking at when we consider this short, obscure text.  At the end of the day, we just don’t know a lot about the text besides what we can draw from the text itself—and that’s where we’ll be headed next, with actually chewing on the content of the text itself.

On the Third Book of the Corpus Hermeticum: Translation

It was back in middle school that I was first able to take foreign language classes.  I spent a semester learning French, but that never really hooked me; I switched to Japanese for the next semester, but unfortunately the teacher had to leave back to Japan, so in a scramble to keep us busy, my school brought in a Latin teacher to finish off the year in that subject instead.  I enjoyed both Japanese and Latin immensely, but I wouldn’t have the chance to take Japanese classes again until high school some years later.  Instead, I decided to stick with Latin, despite my mother’s confusion and mockery (“You’ll never use Latin, it’s a worthless thing to study!”).  I kept taking Latin through high school, including the AP level courses (taken as an independent study since I couldn’t otherwise fit the class into my schedule).  I didn’t take Latin in college, though I wish I had, had my schedule allowed for it; I switched back to Japanese for a few years until I had to give that up, too, due to my need to focus on my degree for computer science and software engineering.  But I never lost my love for Latin, or for ancient languages or linguistics generally.

Despite my mother’s claim that Latin would never be helpful for me, I’ve proved her wrong over the years, as it’s helped me immensely with my occult and spiritual research, given the abundance of stuff that’s still in Latin and hasn’t been formally translated yet, and given the fact that translators sometimes make interesting choices in their translation that don’t always bear out from the original text.  It’s also given me ample background in linguistic analysis, which helps in learning and understanding the syntax, grammar, and structure of other languages, even if those languages have a radically different structure than Latin does.  For instance, I’ve made plenty of references to Greek and a few references to Coptic on my blog before, and even though I’ve never studied those languages nor claim any formal competency in them, given a good dictionary and a good set of grammar tables and guides, I can get by enough to construct a few statements, even though I couldn’t write a full Greek phrase yet to save my life.  But, lately, I’ve been picking up ancient Greek more and more, which helps me just as much and for the same reasons as Latin.

Not that long ago, I mentioned how beautiful and meaningful I find Book III of the Corpus Hermeticum (CH III), entitled Ἐρμοῦ Ἰερός Λόγος, or “[the] Sacred Discourse of Hermēs” (though I prefer to translate Λόγος here as “Sermon”).  It’s a short text but a complete one, and one I’d recommend to those interested in traditional Hermetic texts to read first, as it kinda-sorta serves the same role in my mind as the Heart Sutra does for Mahayana Buddhism: a short synopsis that contains the biggest points of practice and purpose of the tradition.  This, like the rest of the Corpus Hermeticum, is written in Greek, specifically a kind of Koiné Greek that was spoken and written as a lingua franca across the Mediterranean during the Roman Republic and the early Roman Empire.  This is the Greek of the Septuagint and the New Testament, of the Middle and New Platonists, and of the Greek Magical Papyri themselves.  While my formal exposure to learning and translating classical Greek is limited, it’s probably time to change that, because I want to dig in more to the Hermetic canon generally and CH III specifically and really get at the meat and bones of it for meditation and contemplation, and doing that requires actually looking at the original Greek and…well, in order to get a better grasp of the texts, translate them (or at least CH III) myself.

Admittedly, I could probably have started learning how to translate Greek with an easier text.  Many scholars who’ve already translated CH III have noted that the text is corrupt in many ways, suffering from both lacunae and poorly-written Greek, indicating that perhaps the original author of CH III was not so competent in the language as we’d like.  Scott himself declares that CH III is “so corrupt as to be almost wholly meaningless” in its original state, and presents his own take on the text only after having “altered it with a free hand”.  Dodd commends Scott on his restoration of the text “extensively on an ingenious theory of the mutilation of the archetype”, but does not believe that “such drastic treatment is really necessary” and that, at times, Scott’s “reconstruction…departs too far from the [original] to carry conviction”.  Although a Hermetic text, it bears strong influence from the style and wording of the Septuagint with other Judaicizing elements, but it also shows a strong Stoic and Egyptian presence.  Even with all these influences, and perhaps because of them, the overall message of CH III falls neatly in line with other Hermetic texts, although presented from a different perspective.

Perhaps as a result of the corruption and confusion in CH III, different translators have rendered this book in different ways, sometimes drastically so.  To offer a comparison, here’s a list of some translators of the text (whether of CH III specifically or the Corpus Hermeticum generally), where I provide links to online references or to sources of the published translations themselves:

With that, let’s take a look at my translation of CH III, made possible through the generous help of the Perseus-Tufts online dictionary and whatever charts of declension and conjugation I could find on Wiktionary.  This text is broken down into four sections, for which I’ve provided my own translation based on the Greek given by Nock and Festugière.  Each section also includes my own notes explaining or justifying some of the choices I’ve made in the course of the translation; I did my best to stick to the text itself in the way it was given without emending the text as far as is possible, though such a literal approach could not always be done—and I’m in good company, it’d seem, based on previous translators’ notes.  Be gentle with me and forgiving with criticism of my shoddy work, dear reader; I’m still an unlearned amateur at Greek, after all.

1. Statements on God

[The] glory of all things is the God,
[who is both] [the] Divine and divine Nature.

[The] beginning of that which exists is the God,
[who is thus of] Mind, Nature, and Matter,
being Wisdom for [the] making known of the All.

[The] beginning is [that which is] the Divine,
[which is] Nature, Working, Necessity, End, and Renewal.

  • “[The] glory”: δόξα.  The author of CH III uses the article a lot less than I’d expect, so I make it explicit when he doesn’t by adding in “[the]” elsewhere in this translation when English would expect it to be used.  This use of the article may have some semantic meaning of importance, but I’m not sure.
  • “of all things”: πάντων, which might also be rendered as “of the All”, but we encounter πάντων in CH III several other times in a less grand sense; more on this shortly with ἁπάντων.
  • “[who is both]”: reading an implied copula together with the καὶ…καὶ formula that indicates “both…and”.  Interpreting καὶ θεῖον καὶ φύσις θεία as an explanation of what ὁ θεός is makes sense, as δόξα is in the singular; this word can also be interpreted as a plural, but specifically a plural feminine noun, and neither θεός nor θεῖον would agree with that.  So it is (the) God who is the glory of the All, and (the) God is both the Divine and the Nature, which is itself Divine.  This latter point, that Nature is also Divine as God is Divine, is one that’s hammered in both at the end of this section as well as at the end of CH III.
  • “[The] beginning”: ἀρχή, which some translate as “principle” or “origin” instead.  For thematic reasons to link this first section with the last one, I prefer “beginning” here.
  • “that which exists”: τῶν ὄντων, which could also be more interpreted as “all that is”.
  • “[who is thus of] Mind, Nature, and Matter”: ditto regarding the καὶ…καὶ formula.  This is given in the text as καὶ νοῦ καὶ φύσεως καὶ ὕλης, which would suggest that God is Mind and Nature and Matter, but Dodd agrees with Scott here in that this phrase should be in the genitive, καὶ νοῦς καὶ φύσις καὶ ὕλη, such that this would read “God is the beginning of that which exists, both of Mind and of Nature and of Matter”, and honestly, I’m inclined to agree with them.  The original phrase is grammatically correct, but Scott’s and Dodd’s translation using a genitive emendation makes more sense to me Hermetically.
  • “being Wisdom”: there’s no copula or identifier connecting ὁ θεός with σοφία here, so one could assume “[who is]” is implied by parallelism.  However, the final word of this statement ἁπάντων “of all” (more on that in a bit), is followed by ὤν, and while ἁπάντων ὤν could be translated “of all things”, but ὤν can also be a participle referring to God, which would render this phrase as “[God who is] being…Wisdom”, which makes grammatical sense even if it’s an awkward construction.  Whether we say “God is the being who is Wisdom for making known of all things” or “God is who is Wisdom for making known of all things”, the translation seems equivalent either way.
  • “making known”: δεῖξιν, generally “mode of proof” or “exhibition”, in the accusative in a way indicating teaching, revealing, or displaying something for a purpose.  I originally used “showing forth” here, which is more literal but less stylistically fitting for the rest of the text.
  • “of the All”: ἁπάντων here as opposed to πάντων above.  Given the rarity of ἁπάντων in CH III and how it intensifies πάντων, I’m rendering it here in a more dignified sense.
  • “[which is]”: ditto from above with “[who is both]” and “[who is thus of]”.
  • “End”: τέλος, though I like “Purpose” here as well.
  • It may be better to interpret the initial line of each of these statements as “of all things [which exist]” and “of [all] which exists” and “[of all which exists]”, maintaining parallelism between these three statements in this first section, interpreting partial presences of τῶν πάντων ὄντων to maintain thematic and stylistic continuity, though this is reading more into the original text than strictly necessary.  However, the last statement here lacks both πάντων as well as τῶν ὄντων, which may be meaningful on its own.

2. Account of Cosmogony

Lo: in [the] Abyss there was boundless darkness and water,
and delicate, intelligent Spirit,
existing by divine Power in Chaos.
Then, under [the] sand, out of [the] moist essence,
holy Light arose and [the] elements solidified,
so that all [the] gods might parcel out seed-bearing Nature.

While all was indefinite and unformed,
[all] that which was light was separated off to [the] heights
and [all] that which was heavy was grounded upon [the] moist sand,
the whole of them all separated and hung up by Fire to be carried along by Spirit.

And the heavens were seen in seven circles,
[the] gods being seen in the forms of [the] stars with their constellations,
perfectly filled each with their own gods.
The periphery was wrapped all around by Air
and carried along in a circular course by divine Spirit.

  • The first paragraph here is usually marked as the final paragraph of the first section, but it makes more thematic sense to group it in with this second section which otherwise discusses the creation of the cosmos.
  • “Lo”: ἦν, used like “behold”.
  • “delicate”: translating λεπτόν with other similar meanings like “peeled”, “fine”, “thin”, “weak”, “subtle”, or “small” to communicate a sense of fineness but fragility as well.
  • “under [the] sand”: translating ὕφ’ ἄμμῳ which Nock and Festugière obelize out. Some interpret this as marginalia or an external reference to “moist sand” below, especially as it seems absurd for Light to arise from the depths, unless you take into account the Benben myth of Egyptian cosmogony, which then makes total sense here as the birth of Atum from the primordial mound that arose from the boundless waters of chaos.
  • “so that all [the] gods might parcel out seed-bearing Nature”: καὶ θέοι πάντες καταδιερῶσι φύσεως ἐνσπόρου.  Emending καταδιερῶσι to καταδιαιρῶσι, this word seems to be usually translated in the middle voice in the sense of “distribute among themselves”, but the inflection here necessitates that it is in the active voice and subjunctive mood, requiring a different interpretation along the lines of division, separation, or distinguishing.  Nock and Festugière obelize φύσεως ἐνσπόρου, suggesting a potential break in the text and maybe something specific that was parceled out between καταδιερῶσι and φύσεως, but φύσεως ἐνσπόρου as a genitive phrase (“of seed-bearing Nature”) is likely a genitive of separation which would work well with καταδιαιρῶσι.  As a whole, this phrase suggests that in order for the gods to take their proper places and to make life, the elements needed to be made first, and that the gods separating out these elements fulfills part of their very purpose.
  • “hung up by Fire”: “hung up” here is ἀνακρεμασθέντων, “up-hanged”, and the initial ἀνα- seems to just be an intensifier, as κρεμασθέντων already indicates a notion of hanging (or, in the passive, being hanged) up.  Although a different word is used, a similar notion is present in the Hymn to the Great Mind from PGM V.459ff, where we see “you who suspended heaven” as πασσαλεύσαντα τόν οὐρανόν, with a specific notion there of “pinning” it up, like nails or pushpins hanging something up on a wall.  (ἀνα-)κρεμασθέντων, on the other hand, especially in the passive, was sometimes used to refer to hanging things up as a votive offering.
  • “carried along”: ὀχεῖσθαι from ὀχέω, literally “hold fast”, but in the middle voice here, more like “to be carried or borne”.  Copenhaver notes that Nock and Festugière use “véhiculé”, echoing both ὀχεῖσθαι here and ὀχούμενον below in this section as well as the word ὀχεία (“covering”, “holder”) or ὄχημα (“chariot”) used to describe the vehicle of the soul in its ascent as described used in other Hermetic and Neoplatonic texts.
  • “perfectly filled”: interpreting διηρθρώθη along the lines of “complete in detail”, as opposed to Copenhaver’s “corresponding to the gods contained in it”.

3.  Account of Zoogony and Anthropogony

Each god sent forth through their own power
that which was assigned to them.
Thus came to be [the] beasts—
[the] four-footed, [the] crawling, [the] water-dwelling, and [the] winged—
and every germinating seed, herb, and fresh shoot of every flower,
[having] the seed of rebirth within themselves.

They then cast the seeds for the generations of humans for [that they might have]:

  1. knowledge of [the] works of [the] Divine, and
  2. testimony of [the] workings of Nature.

And [they likewise made] great numbers of humans [for that they might have]:

  1. management of all things under Heaven, and
  2. recognition of that which is Good

So as to:

  1. grow in growth, and
  2. multiply in multitude.

And, through the course of [the] encycling gods,
[they created] every soul in flesh for [that they might have]:

  1. observance of [the] sign-seeding [acts] of Heaven,
  2. [observance] of [the] course of the heavenly gods,
  3. [observance] of [the] works of the Divine, and
  4. [observance] of [the] working of Nature

for [that they might have]:

  1. examination of that which is Good, and
  2. knowledge of [the] turbulent lots of divine Power

[for the gods made them so as] to:

  1. come to know [the] things of [the] Good and [the] things of [the] insignificant, and
  2. discover [the] arts of everything that is Good.
  • I broke out this section into a series of numbered lists to more clearly refer to particular points later on.  This whole section was basically given as (more or less) one long sentence, but through the miracles of modern punctuation, I’ve broken it out into more easily digestible sections and statements, especially given the exhortations or injunctions regarding the purposes and works of humanity.
  • “Thus”: just καὶ here, but I figured that this specific wording would help clarify it as a link between the previous and coming statements.
  • “the seed of rebirth”: Although this seems to relate most directly and specifically to the generation of vegetative life, I think this is better reflective of both the vegetative and animal life here. I also want it to link to human life below, though it seems difficult to do so, but this is an incredibly corrupt and difficult passage to translate that everyone seems to admit and recognize.
  • “they then cast the seeds for”: ἐσπερμολόγουν, a difficult word that on its own means something like “pick up/out seeds”, which doesn’t make sense here. Sometimes interpreted instead as “emit seeds”, but the inflection here doesn’t make a lot of sense to me any which way.  The ending itself here would make it seem like a kind of present participle, but only in the neuter singular, either nominative or accusative, and which could have it modify σπέρμα several words away for the overall effect of “having the seeding seeds of rebirth within themselves”, but that seems really kludgy.  We could interpret the following τάς as part of this word, making it ἐσπερμολόγουντας, which would make it an active participle in the feminine singular genitive or plural accusative, which doesn’t make it fit any easier within the sentence unless we match it with the feminine singular genitive παλιγγενεσίας “rebirth”, which is separated by only a few words (and maybe a lacuna or two), but τάς here already functions as the article for γενέσεις that follows, and trying to make the two into one word seems to be another kludgy thing that isn’t great.  Nobody seems happy with this word (or with several of the words and phrases that follow in this section). The common approach seems to be that of Dodd, who uses it to refer to the gods in beseeding the generations of humans (ἐσπερμολόγουν τε τάς γενέσεις τῶν ἀνθρώπων), perhaps with the original author also making a pun on λόγος, but this is also unlikely as λόγος otherwise appears nowhere in CH III (except the title, but the title may well be a later addition to refer to the text by name). There is the possibility of a connection with σπερμολογία, “babbling” or “gossip”, and σπερμολόγος as “one who picks up and retails scraps of knowledge, as an idle babbler”, which could be seen as both a pun on both λόγος and σπέρμα, as well as a dim echo of the Korē Kosmou where the bodies of humans are made from the leftover dried- but overly-reconstituted soulstuff of God. Although the translation here (with a pun on “cast” as both sowing seeds as well as speaking incantations in the Egyptian mythic sense a la Isis or Thoth) makes it seem that τάς γενέσεις τῶν ἀνθρώπων is a dative, it’s still an accusative phrase (“the generations of mankind”), but it’s unclear what else it could be the direct object of besides whatever ἐσπερμολόγουν is supposed to indicate.
  • “for [that they might have]”: reading an implied verb of possession here and below, given the use of εἰς with accusative nouns to suggest that humans are to exist for such a purpose or exist so as to possess such things.
  • “knowledge”: Many translators interpret γνῶσιν here as a verb (“that they might come to know”), but later instances of γνῶσιν in this section seems to function better as a noun (“seeking to know, “investigation”, “knowledge”) in the accusative case.  Reading γνῶσιν here as a noun can also function well, given that μαρτυρίαν (“testimony”, “evidence”) also reads better as a noun given in the accusative than as a subjunctive verb.
  • “testimony of the workings of Nature”: φύσεως ἐνεργοῦσαν μαρτυρίαν, which others translate as “be a working witness of Nature”.  Reading μαρτυρίαν as a noun and not a verb, however, would necessitate something like “have testimony…of Nature”.  ἐνεργοῦσαν seems to agree with μαρτυρίαν as either a plural genitive noun phrase or a singular accusative noun phrase, but “working testimony” doesn’t seem to work so well here.  Rather, I’d read this instead as a chain: that humans are to have testimony/evidence (μαρτυρίαν) of the workings (ἐνεργοῦσαν) of Nature (φύσεως), which then gives a neat parallel to having knowledge (γνῶσιν) of the works (ἔργων) of the Divine (θείων) from the previous statement.  This parallel is repeated further below in this section, though there with a singular noun ἐνεργείας instead of a plural participle ἐνεργοῦσαν.  In this sense, perhaps μαρτυρίαν is meant in the sense that humanity is to behold the workings of Nature by being witness to it, experiencing it, and undergoing it rather than merely observing it from a distance.
  • “great numbers of humans”: πλῆθος ἀνθρώπων, which Copenhaver translates as an injunction “to increase the number of mankind”, but the grammar here doesn’t match up with that. It makes more sense to interpret it in the same sense as τἀς…γενέσεις τῶν ἀνθρώπων above as well as πασᾶν…ψυχήν below.
  • “management”: δεσποτείαν which indicates “the power of a master”, but here I interpret as more a sense of tending or managing, almost in the agricultural sense of husbandry, which ties better into the use of seed-based imagery elsewhere in CH III.
  • “encycling”: ἐγκυκλίων would normally indicate “round” or “circular in shape”, but it can also be interpreted as “revolving/moving in a circle”, with the implied notion of recurrence or repeated things happening.
  • “observance”: κατοπτείαν, in the sense of “spy out”, “explore”, or “observe deeply”, but this is most likely a noun, not a verb, like δεσποτείαν above and γνῶσιν below. It’s possible that this could be a weird verb ending indicating that they are to survey Heaven, etc., but possible verb endings don’t match up with other possible-verbs here.
  • “sign-seeding [acts]”: τερασπορίας, a difficult word apparently otherwise attested, perhaps more literally translated “sowing/seeding of wonders/marvels/portents” (lots of references to seeds in CH III; perhaps the original author was raised as a farmer). In this inflection, it seems to be either in the singular genitive or the plural accusative, but it’s hard to see what this word might relate to. I find it easiest to interpret this as a somewhat out-of-place direct object of κατοπτείαν along with other things in this sentence, and interpreting οὐρανοῦ as the owner of it, the sense being that the actions and events in Heaven are what make portents, which matches up nicely with the astrological notion in the next line.
  • “for [that they might have]”: this set of following injunctions might seem to be part of the same preceding set as before, but to my mind, seeing a pattern of things given in pairs here in this section of CH III, this total list of six injunctions should probably be broken up into two blocks (one of four injunctions and one of two) or three blocks (each of two injunctions), and I went with the former choice.  The first block (or first two blocks) would be regarding the observance of the sign-seeding acts of Heaven and of the course of the heavenly gods, either along with or for the purpose of knowing the works of the Divine and the working of Heaven.  Breaking the last two injunctions out seems appropriate given the εἰς τε before the next two injunctions, suggesting that what goes before is to be established for what comes after, and given that what comes after uses a different structure and verbs/nouns.
  • “examination of that which is Good”: σημεῖα ἀγαθῶν, which doesn’t match the structure of the surrounding text, and which some consider faulty or unintelligible, as σημεῖα is a neuter plural word just meaning “signs”. Going with Dodd’s and Scott’s fix of σημείωσιν, usually “indication” or “notice”, but also “inference from” or “examination of” signs.
  • “[the] turbulent lots of divine Power”: μοίρης ὀχλουμένης, a difficult phrase to interpret that has been variously rendered, a genitive noun phrase with an active present participle in the middle voice for the verb “to move, disturb, roll along” or “to trouble, importune, irk” (with the root word ὄχλος meaning “crowd”, “throng”, “mob”, “trouble”).  Although θείας δυνάμεως comes first and there seems to be something like a break between that and μοίρης ὀχλουμένης, and with both phrases in the genitive, it makes sense to me to think of this θείας δυνάμεως as possessing μοίρης ὀχλουμένης, and interpreting μοίρης ὀχλουμένης as a genitive of charge. This, again, is likely another astrological thing for humans to be aware of, or perhaps an understanding of the acts of Fate and Necessity in general in the cosmos without them necessarily being astrological, something along the line of Copenhaver’s “the whirling changes of fair and foul” (which mixes this injunction with the next, which I prefer to keep separate).
  • “[For the gods made them so as] to”: The last two verbs in this sentence, γνῶναι “to come to know” and εὑρεῖν “to find/discover”, are in the aorist infinitive, unlike κατοπτείαν and γνῶσιν above, which are either verbs in the third person plural aorist subjunctive or nouns in the accusative indicating something for them to have or undergo. To me, this suggests that these last two items in this list are overall goals which are to be arrived at through the previous five. I’ve inserted this phrase to make that point clear.
  • “insignificant”: φαύλων, which can have meanings of “careless”, “cheap”, “slight”, “easy”, “ineffective”. Given the lack of distinction between grander notions of Good and Evil in CH III, although a possibility given its Judaicizing elements, translating the whole phrase here of ἀγαθῶν καὶ φαύλων as such seems out of place, so perhaps “that which is properly useful to know and that which is either improperly useful or properly useless to know” is a better way to interpret this phrase.
  • “arts”: δαιδαλουργίαν, more accurately rendered as “the skillful working” or “the cunning work”.
  • “arts of everything that is Good”: We could retranslate this and the previous statement, using an alternative translation of φαύλων, as “come to know the things of the effective and ineffective, and to discover the arts of all that is effective”. In other words, we’re to learn about the distinction between things that have value and things that do not, and having learned it, explore the uses and works of things that have value.
  • The last two pairs of injunctions have a different focus than the rest: rather than simply observing or witnessing the works of the Divine and of Nature, these last two involve mixtures or choices one is to make.  After all, consider ὀχλουμένης indicating “troublesome” but with an origin in “crowd” or “mob”, and how ἀγαθῶν καὶ φαύλων has a notion of separating out the good from the bad (or, perhaps, the effective from the ineffective).  There’s a sort of mirrored structure here: we have a notion of knowing what is Good and then discerning the mixed states of good and bad as Nature gives it to us, and then we sift through the mixed things that are good and bad, and having sifted we focus on using that which is Good.  After coming to know all the works of the Divine and all the workings of Nature and how they function internally, and being able to distinguish the things that are worthwhile and of value, one then applies that knowledge to actually sort out what’s worthy of attention and valuable in application from what isn’t.  This is what we might otherwise call wisdom, the “showing forth” or “making known” of all things, as mentioned in the first section, and the coming to know these things is the beginning of wisdom, which is mentioned in the fourth section.

4. Account on the Life and End of Humanity

[This is the] beginning of their living and becoming wise,
according to [their] lot from [the] course of [the] cyclic gods.
And [this is the beginning of their] being released,
leaving behind great memorials of [their] works of art upon the Earth,
and every generation of ensouled flesh,
and [every generation] of [the] sowing of fruit,
and [every generation] of every craftwork,
[all] for fame unto the obscurity of [the] ages—
[all] that is diminished will be renewed by Necessity
and by [the] renewal of the gods
and by [the] course of the measured wheel of Nature.

For the Divine is the whole cosmic combination renewed by Nature,
for the Nature is established in the Divine.

  • “[This is the] beginning of their”: ἄρχηται αὐτῶν, which for some is held as doubtful. Dodd has ἀρκεῖ τε αὐτοῖς “it is enough for them”, or alternatively ἀρχή τε αὐτοῖς “for them [this is the] beginning”.
  • “according to [their] lot”: interpreting πρός with μοῖραν as an accusative to indicate an organizing idea on the part of fate.
  • “cyclic gods”: κυκλίων θεῶν, although “circular gods” would be more accurate though perhaps less sensical, but κυκλίων doesn’t agree with anything else here. So, basically emending κυκλίων “circular” to κυκλικῶν “cyclic” instead, although an argument could be made for interpreting the gods as planetary spheres, both in the sense of the shape of the heavens themselves as well as the bodies that traverse them.  Same issue as with ἐγκυκλίων above in the previous section.
  • “leaving behind”: καταλιπόντες as an aorist active participle, combined with εἰς δ᾽ ἔσται in a future sense of purpose e.g. “for them to in the future be leaving behind”.
  • “[every generation]”: inserting this to maintain parallelism with accusative πᾶσαν γένεσιν “every generation” and genitive ἐμψύχου σαρκός “of ensouled flesh” and to clarify what the genitive noun phrases καρποῦ σπορᾶς “sowing of fruit” and πάσης τεχνουργίας “every craftsmanship” refer to as belonging.  I take all this to imply that there are three kinds of generation here that arise and pass away: human/animal life, vegetative life, and technological/artful man-made creation.
  • “[all] for fame”: ἐν ὀνόματι, literally “in name”, though with a common (especially biblical) use of ὄνομα for “fame” or “renown”.
  • “unto the obscurity of the ages”: interpreting ἀμαύρωσιν as an accusative of purpose (ἀμαύρωσις) rather than as a verb (ἀμαυρόω).  As a noun, ἀμαύρωσις is also a nice reference to astrology, being one name for House VIII, a so-called “unseen house” denoting (among other things) death and legacy. Interpreting χρόνων as owning ἀμαύρωσιν makes more sense to me.
  • “[all] for fame unto the obscurity of [the] ages”: interpreting this as belonging specifically to the memorials of the works of humanity but more generally to both such memorials as well as the generations of humanity/fruit/art generally.  Many authors interpret χρόνων as belonging to ἐν ὀνόματι, literally as “in the name of times” or metaphorically “in the fame of ages”, but I give it to ἀμαύρωσιν instead here; Dodd notes that a slight emendation here, adding εἰς so that it reads εἰς χρόνων ἀμαύρωσιν makes it fit a stylistic construction “of which this writer [of CH III] is excessively fond”, though taken in a slightly different sense, and translated as “they will have left great memorials as [a means of perpetuating] their name, pending their obliteration brought about by a lapse of time”.  I moved this whole phrase down after the “every generation” phrase sequence for thematic and stylistic reasons, though it properly follows the “great memorials” phrase.
  • “[all] that is diminished”: interpreting this as belonging specifically to the memorials of the works of humanity but more generally to both such memorials as well as the generations of humanity/fruit/art generally.
  • “renewal of the gods”: ἀνανεώσει θεῶν, which I read as indicating the renewal enacted by the gods upon the world, and not the renewal that the gods undergo themselves.
  • “is established”: καθέστηκεν as a verb with perfect tense, active voice, and indicative mood can still be used in the intransitive state with the sense of “set oneself down”, “settle”, “exist”, “be established”.  There’s some confusion over how to best present this: Dodd has “Nature consists in the Divine”, Scott “Nature has her being in God”, Copenhaver “Nature is established in the Divine”, Salaman “Nature is seated in God”.  I like Dodd’s translation, but this seems a bit further from the text than the rest.

Now, all that done, although I gave my (as far as was possible) exact and literal translation of CH III above, I’d also like to present a slightly more interpreted and stylized translation, as well.  Knowing what I know now about the text and its literal meanings, here’s how I might gently rephrase and tweak it in (somewhat devout) modern prose English, sacrificing accuracy and precision for an easier, more contemplative read.

The Sacred Sermon of Hermēs Trismegistus

1.1
The glory of all that is is God,
who is both the Divine and divine Nature.

1.2
God is the beginning of all that is:
that of Mind, that of Nature, that of Matter.
God is Wisdom for making the All to be known.

1.3
The Divine is the beginning of all that is:
Nature, Working, Necessity, Purpose, Renewal.

2.1
For in the beginning, in the Abyss,
there was boundless darkness and boundless water,
as well as intelligent yet delicate Spirit,
all existing in primordial chaos by divine Power.
But then, out from under the water and sand,
a holy Light arose, and the elements arose with it,
so that all the gods might measure out seed-bearing Nature.

2.2
And while all was yet indefinite and unformed,
the subtle was separated off to the heights
and the base was grounded upon the wet sand.
The whole of the All was separated and suspended by Fire,
carried along by Spirit.

2.3
Then could be seen the heavens in seven circles,
and the gods, too, in their starry forms with their constellations,
each one perfectly realized, all filled with their own gods.
The boundary of the All was encompassed by Air,
carried along in its circular course by divine Spirit.

3.1
Then each god sent forth that which was assigned to them through their own power.
Thus came to be all the animals—walking, crawling, swimming, and flying—
and every sprouting seed, herb, and fresh shoot of every flower,
all having the seed of rebirth within themselves.

3.2
Then the gods cast the seeds for the generations of humanity so that they might
know the works of the Divine and witness the workings of Nature.
In this, the gods made the multitudes of humanity
so that they govern all things under Heaven and recognize that which is Good,
all to grow in growth and multiply in multitude.

3.3
And through all their heavenly courses,
the encycling gods created every human incarnate—every soul in flesh—
so that they might consider in contemplation
the sign-seeding acts of Heaven, the courses of the heavenly gods,
the works of the Divine, and the workings of Nature;
in doing this, the gods made humans—every soul in flesh—so that they might
mark the Good and learn the twisted, twisting happenings of divine Power.
For the gods made humans—every soul in flesh—so as to
know that which is Good and that which is not,
and discover the skillful arts of everything that is Good.

4.1
This is the beginning of the living and becoming wise of humanity,
according to the destiny of each,
each derived from the heavenly courses of the encycling gods.
This is the beginning, too, of their being released,
each leaving behind great memorials of their works upon the Earth.

4.2
Every generation of ensouled flesh,
every generation of sowing fruit,
every generation of every craftwork,
all that is done for the fame of humanity until time itself forgets them—
all that is diminished shall be renewed
by Necessity, by the renewal the gods themselves give,
and by the course of the measured measuring wheel of Nature.

4.3
For the Divine is the whole amalgam of the Cosmos renewed by Nature,
and Nature is found and founded in the Divine.

As you might well note, I made the stylistic choice of taking the same fourfold breakdown of the sections above, and broke each down into three subsections each, for a total of twelve “verses” or statements.  In this, it—if I may make such a claim—looks like it was written as something like the Emerald Tablet, and with that breakdown of twelve verses into four groups of three, the prospects of its use in a zodiacal or yearly devotional cycle could be rather nice.  It’s an innovative idea, at any rate, but certainly not meant to suggest about anything from the text itself or about its author.

With that, I’ll get started on actually taking a deeper look at the text for the sake of exegesis, using my literal translation primarily and backed up by what better translators than me have said.  Stay tuned for that!

Correspondence of Spirits to the Greek Alphabet

Judging from my recent blog post history, you’d be forgiven if you thought that this whole damn blog, and my whole damn practice, was just about geomancy.  Technically, that’d be wrong, but I do, indeed, talk about geomancy a lot.  There’s just a lot to talk about when it comes to that topic.  One of the things I still keep up with, albeit not as much as I’d like or as much as I’d otherwise have time for, is my old Mathēsis practice, that whole system of Greek letter mystiticsm, a kind of neo-Pythagorean quasi-Hermetic system of theurgy and meditation that works closely with the Greek gods.  I’ve made some good innovations when it comes to developing this practice, from coming up with a Tetractys-based “map” of the cosmos, as well as various other meditative and purificatory practices that, even when I’m not working in a mathētic framework, still help out one way or another.  This whole thing came about through my interest and development of grammatomancy, the Greek alphabet oracle, which I’ve found to be an excellent system of divination that I also specialize in along with geomancy.  One of my finest innovations, I think, is the Grammatēmerologion, a lunisolar calendar that maps the days, months, and years themselves to different letters of the Greek alphabet for tracking feasts, holidays, rituals, and meditations, whether according to the days purely or overlaps between the letters of the days along with astrological and astronomical phenomena.  I’ve found it incredibly helpful, and I hope that others can, as well.

One of the things I find it especially useful for is arranging the days of the lunar month, from New Moon to New Moon, to the different gods of the Hellenic pantheon and other aspects of ancient Greek and Mediterranean mythos.  However, in a naïve or simple way, the Greek letters don’t really have very many associations to the various deities, divinities, and spirits, but I wanted to see how far I could take things.  For instance, it makes sense to honor Asklēpios along with Apollōn, his father, and by extension the goddesses of health like Panakeia or Hygieia or Iasō.  But what about the more obscure divinities, like Triptolemos or Amphitritē or Themis?  I began to expand the associations I was working with to associate the Greek letters to the gods, and I ended up with…well, quite a large set, especially because I wanted to be pretty darn complete or at least reasonably so.  Yanno, just in case.

That ended up in making a table so big even I wasn’t comfortable with it, so I ended up making four tables of correspondences of the various deities and spirits of a Hellenic, Pythagorean, or generally Greek pagan practice to the letters of the Greek alphabet.  I tried to make the associations as reasonably as I could, and despite the overwhelming number of entities present in Greek myth, I tried to focus on those that tended to receive cult in classical times.  Below are those tables, as reasonably complete as I could make them.  When gaps exist in the tables, that indicates that I couldn’t find anything to fit there, but that doesn’t mean that there can’t be; perhaps this table could be expanded upon over time, and I’d look forward to it.  Heck, even for the cells that are populated, I’m sure there can be additions or changes made.

What’s also nice is that these tables can also play well with the use of the Kyranides, a famous proto-grimoire “index” of the various minerals, animals, and plants of the world according to their initial letter by their Greek names; connections between those sorts of associations according to the Greek alphabet and how they might play well with the associations given by other authors and sources would be a great thing for me to (eventually) research.

Before we begin, let me share a few resources that were helpful, instrumental, or otherwise important in helping me devise these tables of divine correspondences to the Greek alphabet:

Table I: The Table of the Whole.  This table gives the high-level associations of the letters of the Greek alphabet, both the 24 letters in use from ancient times to modern times as well as the three obsolete letters Digamma, Qoppa, and Sampi, to their various associations: those of the various forces of the cosmos of the elements, planets, and signs of the Zodiac based on Cornelius Agrippa’s associations (book I, chapter 74); the singlemost important deity for that letter of the alphabet based on its corresponding force; a sacred word of power taken from PGM CI.1-53, a holy angel for each letter taken from the Coptic magical manuscript Berlin 11346, and a general part of the body commonly associated with the letters of the Greek alphabet apart from other zodiacal associations.  Note that the three obsolete letters Digamma, Qoppa, and Sampi lack most associations, and are instead given to three classes of spirits of the dead: Digamma has Ancestors of Kin (one’s own blood- and name-related family), Qoppa has Ancestors of Work (ancestors, founders, and forebears of one’s mundane and spiritual professions and lineages), and Sampi has Ancestors of the Great (culture heroes, legendary founders of cities and civilizations, as well as forgotten and wandering dead).  Other oddities, such as the presence of Eōsphoros and Hesperos for Ēta or Zeus Euēnemos for Phi are discussed below in tables for that specific class of letters.

Letter Force Deity Word Angel Body
Α
Alpha
Moon Selēnē ΑΚΡΑΜΜΑΧΑΜΑΡΕΙ
Akrammakhamarei
ΑΧΑΗΛ
Akhaēl
Head
Β

Bēta

Aries Athēna ΒΟΥΛΟΜΕΝΤΟΡΕΒ
Būlomentoreb
ΒΑΝΟΥΗΛ
Banūēl
Neck
Γ
Gamma
Taurus Aphroditē ΓΕΝΙΟΜΟΥΘΙΓ
Geniomūthig
ΓΑΝΟΥΗΛ
Ganūēl
Arms
Δ
Delta
Gemini Apollōn ΔΗΜΟΓΕΝΗΔ
Dēmogenēd
ΔΕΔΑΗΛ
Dedaēl
Breast
Ε
Epsilon
Mercury Stilbōn ΕΝΚΥΚΛΙΕ
Enkuklie
ΕΠΤΙΗΛ
Eptiēl
Chest
Ϝ
Digamma
Ancestors
of Kin
Ζ
Zēta
Cancer Hermēs ΖΗΝΟΒΙΩΘΙΖ
Zēnobiōthiz
ΖΑΡΤΙΗΛ
Zartiēl
Back
Η
Ēta
Venus Eōsphoros and
Hesperos
ΗΣΚΩΘΩΡΗ
Ēskōthōrē
ΗΘΑΗΛ
Ēthaēl
Belly
Θ
Thēta
Earth Hēra Geēros ΘΩΘΟΥΘΩΘ
Thōthūthōth
ΘΑΘΙΗΛ
Thathiēl
Thighs
Ι
Iōta
Sun Hēlios ΙΑΕΟΥΩΙ
Iaeouōi
ΙΩΧΑΗΛ
Iōkhaēl
Knees
Κ
Kappa
Leo Zeus ΚΟΡΚΟΟΥΝΟΩΚ
Korkoūnoōk
ΚΑΡΔΙΗΛ
Kardiēl
Legs
Λ
Lambda
Virgo Dēmētēr ΛΟΥΛΟΕΝΗΛ
Lūloenēl
ΛΑΒΤΙΗΛ
Labtiēl
Ankles
Μ
Mu
Libra Hēphaistos ΜΟΡΟΘΟΗΠΝΑΜ
Morothoēpnam
ΜΗΡΑΗΛ
Mēraēl
Feet
Ν

Nu

Scorpio Arēs ΝΕΡΞΙΑΡΞΙΝ
Nerksiarksin
ΝΗΡΑΗΛ
Nēraēl
Feet
Ξ

Ksi

Water Persephonē ΞΟΝΟΦΟΗΝΑΞ
Ksonophoēnaks
ΞΙΦΙΗΛ
Ksiphiēl
Ankles
Ο
Omikron
Mars Pyroeis ΟΡΝΕΟΦΑΟ
Orneophao
ΟΥΠΙΗΛ
Oupiēl
Legs
Π
Pi
Sagittarius Artemis ΠΥΡΟΒΑΡΥΠ
Pyrobaryp
ΠΙΡΑΗΛ
Piraēl
Knees
Ϙ
Qoppa
Ancestors of
Work
Ρ
Rhō
Capricorn Hestia ΡΕΡΟΥΤΟΗΡ
Rerūtoēr
ΡΑΗΛ
Raēl
Thighs
Σ
Sigma
Aquarius Hēra ΣΕΣΕΝΜΕΝΟΥΡΕΣ
Sesenmenūres
ΣΕΡΩΑΗΛ
Serōaēl
Belly
Τ
Tau
Pisces Poseidōn ΤΑΥΡΟΠΟΛΙΤ
Tauropolit
ΤΑΥΡΙΗΛ
Tauriēl
Back
Υ
Upsilon
Jupiter Phaethōn ΥΠΕΦΕΝΟΥΡΥ
Upephenūru
ΥΜΝΟΥΗΛ
Hymnūēl
Chest
Φ
Phi
Air Zeus
Euēnemos
ΦΙΜΕΜΑΜΕΦ
Phimemameph
ΦΙΛΟΠΑΗΛ
Philopaēl
Breast
Χ
Khi
Fire Hadēs ΧΕΝΝΕΟΦΕΟΧ
Khenneopheokh
ΧΡΙΣΤΟΥΗΛ
Khristūel
Arms
Ψ
Psi
Spirit Dionysos ΨΥΧΟΜΠΟΛΑΨ
Psykhompolaps
ΨΙΛΑΦΑΗΛ
Psilaphaēl
Neck
Ω
Ōmega
Saturn Phainōn ΩΡΙΩΝ
Ōriōn
ΩΛΙΘΙΗΛ
Ōlithiēl
Head
ϡ
Sampi
Ancestors of
the Great

Table II: the Table of the Seven Vowels.  This table expands on the seven vowels of the Greek alphabet, which are given most strongly to the seven traditional planets.  Each planet has its own specific astral titan associated with it, such as Selēnē for the Moon or Hēlios for the Sun, but note that Venus has two astral titans for it, Eōsphoros and Hesperos, because historically this planet was reckoned as two separate entities, Eōsphoros as the Morning Star when Venus rose before the Sun and visible in the dawn hours before sunrise, and Hesperos as the Western Star when Venus set after the Sun and visible in the dusk hours after sunset.  Based on the directions associated with these letters as given in the Heptagram Rite of PGM XIII.734—1077, each of these planets may also be given to the four Elder Titans along with their mother Gaia and their father Ouranos.  Other deities may also be assigned to the planets, such as Artemis for the Moon, along with clusters of lesser deities and other spirits associated with those deities.

Letter Planet Star Titan Deities Cluster
Α Moon Selēnē Hyperiōn Hekatē,
Artemis
Mēnai,
Hōrai
Ε Mercury Stilbōn Koios Hermēs Dioskouroi
Η Venus Eōsphoros,
Hesperos
Iapetos Aphroditē Hesperides
Ι Sun Hēlios Kriōs Apollōn, Dionysos,
Eōs, Theia
Hēliades
Ο Mars Pyroeis Gaia Arēs, Hēphaistos,
Hēraklēs
Υ Jupiter Phaethōn Kronos Zeus,
Ouranos
Ω Saturn Phainōn Ouranos Kronos, Adrasteia,
Khronos
Erinyes,
Moirai

Table III: the Table of the Five Complex Consonants. This table expands on the five complex or double consonants of the Greek alphabet, which are given to the four elements plus the quintessence, the meta-element of Spirit.  Each of these is presided over by one of five gods, with the four classical elements associated with Zeus, Hēra, Hadēs, and Persephonē according to the Greek philosopher Empedocles.  To distinguish this specific Zeus and Hēra from their other forms, the titles “Zeus Euēnomos” (Zeus of the Good Winds) and “Hēra Geēros” (Hera of the Earth) are given specifically to them.  Along with these major divinities, other minor divinities who often received cult and are associated with these elements are given, along with important clusters of (often-named individual) spirits and lesser gods as well as general classes of various spirits.

Letter Element Major
Deity
Minor
Deities
Cluster Spirits
Θ Earth Hēra Geēros Gaia, Rhea, Kybelē,
Mēter Theōn
Kourētes,
Korybantes
Karpoi,
Panes
Ξ Water Persephonē Aphroditē, Ōkeanos,
Tēthys, Hekatē
Seirenēs Naiades,
Potamoi
Φ Air Zeus Euēnemos Aiolos,
Hēra
Anemoi,
Harpyiai
Aurai,
Nephelai
Χ Fire Hadēs Hēphaistos, Hestia,
Hekatē
Erinyes,
Nekrotagoi
Lampades
Ψ Spirit Dionysos Promētheus, Iakkhos,
Priapos
Mainades,
Satyroi

Table IV: the Table of the Twelve Simple Consonants.  This table expands on the twelve simple or single consonants of the Greek alphabet, which are given to the twelve signs of the Zodiac.  Each of these zodiac signs are assigned to one of the twelve Olympian gods according to the Orphic Scale of Twelve as given by Cornelius Agrippa (book II, chapter 14) as their prime divinity, along with lesser or alternate divinities who are closely associated with the functions, roles, and ideals of those gods.  Along with these, other sacred figures are given according to the specific body of the zodiac sign, such as the divine twins Dioskouroi to the sign of the twins of Gemini, as well as important clusters of (often-named individual) spirits and lesser gods as well as general classes of various spirits that are also associated with the major divinities of these letters.

Letter Zodiac
Sign
Maior
Deity
Minor
Deities
Zodiac
Deity
Cluster Spirits
Β Aries Athēna Nikē, Mētis, Pronoia,
Hēphaistos, Erikhthonios
Γ Taurus Aphroditē Erōs, Adonis, Harmonia,
Peithō, Parēgoros
Kharites,
Erōtes
Naiades
Δ Gemini Apollōn Aristaios, Lētō,
Hymenaios, Asklēpios,
Hygeia, Panakeia, Iasō
Dioskouroi Mousai
Ζ Cancer Hermēs Pan, Morpheus,
Maia, Hērakles
Pleiades Panes, Oneiroi,
Oreiades
Κ Leo Zeus Tykhē, Nemesis, Themis,
Ganymēdēs, Hēraklēs,
Bia, Nikē, Kratos, Zēlos
Moirai,
Hōrai
Λ Virgo Dēmētēr Persephonē, Triptolemos,
Hekatē, Ploutos, Iakkhos
Asteria Hōrai
Μ Libra Hēphaistos Athēna, Kēladiōn Dikē Kyklōpes,
Kabeiroi,
Palikoi
Kēlēdones,
Kourai
Ν Scorpio Arēs Phobos, Deimos,
Eris, Enyō
Graiai,
Gorgones
Π Sagittarius Artemis Lētō, Hekatē Kheirōn Nymphai,
Dryades
Ρ Capricorn Hestia Pan
Σ Aquarius Hēra Hēbē, Eileithyia, Iris Ganymēdēs Hesperides,
Kharites
Τ Pisces Poseidōn Prōteus, Amphitritē,
Tritōn, Nēreus,
Palaimon, Leukotheua
Tritones,
Nēreides

One of the fascinating things I find about this Table IV is that there’s a subtle logic in how the major divinities are assigned to the signs of the Zodiac based on the opposing sign.  Consider that Pan is the god most commonly associated with the actual form of the sign Capricorn, but Pan is also often associated with Hermēs in mythos, sometimes even being Hermēs’ own son; there’s an interesting dichotomy here between these two signs, with Hestia essentially being the goddess of what happens inside the home while Hermēs is the god of what happens outside the home.  Likewise, note how the famous centaur Kheiron (or Chiron in modern spelling) is the god of the form of the sign Sagittarius, the opposite sign of Gemini, which itself is associated with Apollōn, his adoptive father and also the father of Asklēpios, whom Kheiron later teaches as his pupil.  Ganymēdēs, too, was the famous cup-bearer taken up by Zeus and placed into the sky as the sign Aquarius, yet this sign itself is given to Hēra, who disapproved of Ganymēdēs, while the sign opposite of both Hēra and Ganymēdēs is none other than Leo, given to Zeus himself.  It’s kinda fascinating to see the logic and polarities going on with how the gods are given to the signs and how they play off each other in a coherent whole of reinforcing-oppositions.

And there you have it!  My system of correspondences I use to categorize and organize the various gods, demigods, daimones, and spirits of the classical and mythic Hellenic world according to the letters of the Greek alphabets.  I’ve personally gotten good mileage out of it, and I hope others can, too, inasmuch as a letter-based system of mysticism might be helpful, but also to just pick out associations and links between the different entities of Hellenic mythos.

On Geomancy and Light

Those who follow me on Twitter know that I’ve been working on a new shrine project of sorts.  Earlier this year, I had the sudden kick-in-the-ass inspiration to start compiling things together, so I started pricing them on my wishlists and getting notes together.  I swore, up and down, that I would pay off my credit card before getting any of it.  But, yanno, just to see how much it would all cost when tallied up, I put it all into my online shopping cart to check out the shipping and taxes, and whoops there went $700 and suddenly I have all these packages showing up at my house however could this have happened let’s get to work, I guess my poor credit card statement.

Long story short, after I made that second post about geomantic holy days earlier this year, I got some sort of spirit all up in me that necessitated, demanded I put this thing together.  I ended up making a Shrine of the Geomancers, honoring the four Progenitors of the art Adam, Enoch, Hermes Trismegistus, and Daniel under the tutelage of Gabriel, with a notable Islamic influence.

I’ll save some of the details and what goes along with this whole shrine later, including a few things that aren’t shown in those above pictures, since it’s such a new thing that even I’m not sure why I have everything on it yet, just that I know I need it.  The last time an inspiring spirit this forceful came upon me was when I ended up writing my Sixteen Orisons of the Geomantic Figures in a single night (and then spent the next month editing and polishing), which you can take a look at in my ebook, Secreti Geomantici (also on Etsy!).  That was pretty fun, too, though exhausting.  I ended up making sixteen prayer-invocations to channel and work with the forces of the figures; that was just a night of power for me, as if I couldn’t shut off whatever fire hydrant of Words was turned on in my head.  The same thing happened with this shrine: I had to get these things and put them together.  Had to.

On top of getting this shrine put together, I’ve had to take a break from writing my geomancy book to take a detour into writing prayers, invocations, and incantations for geomantic practice.  Taking heavy inspiration from Islamic supplications and verses of the Qurʾān, the Book of Daniel, the Psalms, Solomonic and Hermetic literature, and other sources, I’ve been putting together a bunch of prayers—some that I wrote as original works, some I wrote a long time ago, some I’m heavily basing off other sources but tweaked for purpose and diction—for use with this shrine.  Many of the old prayers I wrote a while back, like my Prayer of the Itinerant or my Blessing of Light, fit right in with all these new ones.  It’s like so much of my previous routine, habits, and practices get tied into something so nice, so neat, so…oddly complete in this new shrine practice.  I honestly don’t know where this is all coming from, and it’s surprising me as much as it would anyone else.  If ever I would think that spirits can and do work through us, this would be one of those cases, absolutely.  There are still a lot of prayers I know for a fact I need to write and compile, but even with what I have, I’m pretty thrilled with what I have to work with.  It’s like stumbling on a new grimoire full of detailed instructions—except you don’t know for what, exactly.  It’s also happily convenient that I’m doing all these geomancy readings and follow-up divinations for the New Year, which gives me ample opportunity to try some of these very same prayers.

Now that the shrine is put together and all these prayers are coming together, I need to figure out exactly how to put this all to practice; after all, after dropping so much time and money and energy on this, there’s no way in hell I can just let this thing sit and gather dust (as if the same spirit that had me get all this together in the first place would let me).  I’ll work out routine and times and stuff later, but for now, it’s lovely.  As I noted above, there’s a heavy Islamic influence in this, and why not?  After all, geomancy is ultimately an Islamic occult art and science that arose in the sands of north Africa.  While I’m not going to be doing ṣalāt or proclaiming the five pillars of Islam, I feel it’s still important to honor the traditions and faiths of those that learned, taught, and spread the art of geomancy so far and wide in a language, or at least with symbols and practices, that would be familiar to them.  Which is also why I’m turning to so many supplications and verses of the Qurʾān for prayer inspirations, in addition to the fact that I already know that some such verses are used just for geomancy and divination generally.

One of the things I got for the shrine is a misbaḥah, a set of Islamic prayer beads.  It’s a lot simpler than a rosary, but slightly more complex than a mala; this has 99 beads, with two separators (that apparently aren’t used in counting prayers) to divide up the whole misbaḥah into three sets of 33 beads.  This kind of prayer beads can be used in any number of ways in Islamic devotions, not least the famous Tasbīḥ of Fāṭimah, and a way of kinda-sorta maybe-not-divination-per-se seeking guidance from Allah (istikhāra) can be done using misbaḥah, too, by focusing on the question for guidance and selecting two beads at random on the misbaḥah, and counting down until there are either only one or two beads left.  (The geomantic applications here are obvious.)  There are simpler ways, too, such as just intoning and focusing on one of the attributes or names of Allah, of which there are 99.

(Also, just as an entirely hilarious tangential aside?  This current post is marked as post #9999 in WordPress’ internal system for my blog.  So that’s a kinda fun synchronicity.)

One of the 99 names of Allah in Islam is النُّورُ (an-Nūr), literally “the Light”.  This is often used in the sense of being the Pure Light of the world, or the Prime Light of creation, or the One who Guides by Light.  It’s also especially associated with the Verse of the Light, a beautifully mystic verse taken from Qurʾān 24:35 (my own rendition):

God is the Light of the Heavens and the Earth.
The image of his Light is that of a niche.  In it is a lamp.
The lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a brilliant star.
Lit from the oil of a blessed olive tree, neither of the East nor of the West,
whose oil would almost glow on its own even if fire had not touched it.
Light upon Light!
God guides to his Light whom he wills.
God gives images to follow for his people.
God is All-Knowing of all things.

The use of “The Light” as a name of Allah (or, just, yanno, God, because they really are the same and so much of Arabic theology can be expressed beautifully in Hermeticism and vice versa) is meaningful to me, given how important divine light is in my own personal theology and magical practice, especially in my Hermetic work, given how Light can be thought of as a thing that allows the intelligible to be intelligible and the visible to be visible, as both light of Nous (Mind) and light of Logos (Word).  Even my own magical motto, Lautitia Laborum Lucis Laetor “I rejoice in the splendor of the works of the Light”, is based on this same idea, and many of my more meaningful prayers incorporate Light in some way, whether directly or by puns, like in my Prayer of the Itinerant:

Shed your light on my path that I may see where I go.
Lighten the burden on my shoulders that I may go without hesitation.
Enlighten my heart that I may go with fortitude, courage, and wisdom wherever I may be.

Even before having encountered this Islamic sense of the notion, Light has already been and continues to be for me a powerful force unto itself, and a pure one that is directly associated in my mind and cosmological models with the highest divinity and source of all that is.

Then we bring in a bit of numerology.  Normally, I don’t take numerology particularly seriously; sure, gematria and isopsephia are nice tools to have, and I’ve experimented with it in some classical systems before now and again, but it’s largely a curiosity for me to find other connections with.  But take a look at the name an-Nūr more closely; the “an-” (really “al-” but Arabic rules assimilate the sounds) is just an article, so the real word to look at is Nūr, Light.  In Arabic numerology (which follows the same principles as Hebrew and Greek, since they all come from the same written language to begin with), the value of Nūr is 256.

Those who are familiar with binary mathematics and geomancy should be slapping your heads right about now.  256 = 16 × 16, the total number of pairwise combinations of geomantic figures with each other.  But even then, if we were to reduce it further, 2 + 5 + 6 = 13, and 1 + 3 = 4; alternatively, 256 % 9 = 4.  Four is also a huge number for us, there being four elements, four rows in a geomantic figure, four Mothers/Daughters/Nieces/Court figures, and so forth.  I don’t really need to expound on the myriad meanings of the number 4, given its importance in Hermetic, Pythagorean, and other systems of the occult.  Taking it a bit further as a letter-numeral, 4 is represented by the Hebrew Dālet, Arabic Dāl, and Greek Delta.  Its original meaning and form likely indicated “door”; in stoicheia, I principally associate Delta with the zodiacal sign Gemini, but it can also refer to the element of Water and the zodiacal sign of Cancer in other systems.  I also note that the Arabic Dāl is also the letter used to represent the element of Water in the Dā`irah-e-BZDḤ and Dā`irah-e-ABDḤ organizing systems of the figures, the former of which I’ve put to use in my geomantic energy working as being an Arabic-inspired seed syllable for Water.  Four is, also, the number associated with the sephirah Chesed on the Tree of Life, given to the planetary sphere of Jupiter.

On top of that, although the usual word for “light” in Hebrew is or (אור), the word nur (נור) using the same exact letters as in Arabic, and thus with the same exact numerology, refers to things that flare, flash, fire, or shine; this is an old Semitic triliteral root N-W-R that means light, illumination, and shining.  So that’s also really neat.  This word can also be associated with Hebrew ner (נר) meaning “candle”; “candle” is one of the names and images for the figure Via in some lineages of geomancy according to JMG and Skinner, and Via is sometimes considered to be the oldest or most important and powerful of the geomantic figures, as it contains all of the four elements active and present within itself as a complete whole.

Keeping with Hebrew numerology a bit longer, if we wanted to associate the usual Hebrew word for light numerologically, consider that or (אור) has a value of 207.  256 – 207 = 49, and 49 = 7 × 7, the total number of pairwise combinations of the seven planets as well as just being 7² and important for its own sake; that’s a fun connection, if not a bit contrived.  I also note that 256 is the same value as “spirit of the mother” (רוח אמא, ruach ima), which is important to recognize given that the first four figures we make are called the Mothers and are ungenerated from any other figure in the geomantic process.  It’s also the same value of the words B’nei Tzedeq (בני צדק), or “Sons of the Righteous”; in addition to being a popular name for Jewish synagogues and temples, it’s also a term used by the authors of the Dead Sea Scrolls to refer to the good and devout portion of humanity (including/especially themselves), as opposed to the B’nei `Avel (בני עול), the “Sons of Iniquity”.  Besides the Qumran connection, if there were ever a choir of angels to be associated with geomancy or if we ever wanted a good Hebrew euphemism to refer to geomancers, I suppose B’nei Tzedeq would be a good start.  Plus, Tzedeq is also the Hebrew name for the planet Jupiter, hearkening back to the numerological connection with Chesed above.

I also, somewhat regrettably and hilariously, note that 256 is the numerology of the name Viagrahel, the angel of Viagra, for which I will never thank/blame Kalagni of Blue Flame Magick enough.  (I’m as shocked as you are that that, of all things, would come back to bite me in the ass after almost seven goddamn years.  It’s like my life is one big Chekhov’s dildo.)

What about Greek?  There aren’t many words I can find that add up to 256, but there’s one big one I know of: ἀληθής (alēthēs), meaning “[that which is] unconcealed/true” but also with uses that encapsulate: real, unerring, actual, not forgetting, careful, honest.  The root of this word is –lēth-, which refers to forgetfulness (as in the mythological river of the underworld Lethe and also our modern word “lethargic”, referring to idle forgetfulness).  In that case, ἀληθής refers to things that are unconcealed, true, and honest by means of recovery from forgetfulness or by keeping forgetfulness and ignorance at bay, or alternatively, that which cannot escape notice or remain hidden.  All this ties into the actual Greek word (and, for that matter, goddess) for truth, ἀλήθεια (alētheia), too.  Even if I couldn’t find any other Greek numerological equivalent, I think this one is huge enough to make up for any others.

So where do we end up?  We have a particularly beautiful attribute of the divine, “the Light”, used in the worship and reverence of God in Islam, the religious culture in which geomancy historically developed.  To be extraordinarily terse, notions of divine light fill numerous religious and philosophical traditions as being representative of divinity, especially in any Western tradition influenced by Neoplatonism, Abrahamic faiths, or Hermeticism.  This can be further stretched through a bit of numerology, connecting the word for Light to words for fire, illumination, revelation, and truth.  Calling God “the Light” is a lot more than just thinking of that which allows us to see; God is, in a more complete sense of this attribute, the sudden and revealing flash of illumination that allows us to see that which is true and real, bringing it out of darkness, forgetfulness, and ignorance  God is the quiet, true Light behind all Fire, able to spread and open doors of wisdom to us, communicating to us on an intellectual and emotional level through our sense faculties.  This Light is not just a quiet flame in a dimmed lamp that barely illuminates the shelf it sits on, but it is a fierce, conquering, undeniable, unassailable blast into the darkness, a Light that completely destroys and wipes away anything that could or would try to cover it, a Light that breaks into the cracks of any door, window, wall, or mind and fills every niche, crevice, and corner with its presence.   It is the Light of God, or even the Light that is God, that allows the unseen to be seen, the hidden to be revealed, the unknown to be known, and the forgotten to be remembered.  God is not just Light, but the Light of Light, Light within Light, and Light upon Light.

More than that, this sacred Light of the Mind and of the Word can reach us at any place and at any time, but we can approach it too through the devout study of the mysteries of the geomantic figures, specifically in how they add up amongst themselves in their 256 different combinations.  This same illuminating Light is the fundamental impulse from which the first stirrings of knowledge can be made, and provide the seeds themselves from with the four Mothers in geomantic divination are formed, from whom the entire rest of the geomantic process can be derived.  The Light of God is the necessary existent in order for us to see and know things by geomancy.  Understanding the geomantic figures themselves to be representative of the actual combinations of the four elements amongst the elements in 4 × 4 = 16 ways, and the combinations of elements amongst themselves in 16 × 16 = 256 ways, all of the possible things that come to be in the world and all the ways in which they pass into being and pass out of being are also undergirded by the Light of God, being ways in which that same Light emanates from God into the world, condensing through the four elements from Fire to Air to Water to Earth, mixing and matching between all possible states.  All this is fundamentally Light.

I always felt that Light was important for me to focus on in a religious and spiritual sense.  It’s nice to see that all coming together in ways that the ancients themselves would appreciate, and in ways that show me new things in new combinations.  And, perhaps, to reinforce the habit of keeping a lit candle or lamp burning nearby when I do geomancy.