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It’s beginning to look a lot like Mithras: Is an ancient Roman god really the reason for the season?

Centuries before Christ lay in his manger, Mithras, Roman God of the Sun, was born a miraculous birth in lowly surroundings. His birthday corresponding, more or less, to our own 25th of December. Mithras’ story and festival were co-opted by the Christian faith, forming the basis of Jesus’ Nativity story, and now ubiquitous Christmas celebrations. You have probably read or heard this before, but is it true?

With Christmas trees (symbolic of Jesus’ birth and resurrection, or a relic of Pagan dendrolatry? That’s a discussion for another time) currently festooned with tinsel and twinkling lights, perhaps it’s just the right season to take a closer look at the true meaning and origins of Mithras.

Marble Statue of Mithras, 2nd century CE, via British Museum
Marble Statue of Mithras, 2nd century CE.
British Museum.

Father Mithras

The in-depth academic study of Mithras, or Mithra, began in earnest with the work of Franz-Valéry-Marie Cumont (1868-1947), a Belgian archaeologist and historian. His extensive work Textes et mounuments figurés rélatifs aux mystères de Mithra was published in two volumes in 1894 and 1900. Originally written in Cumont’s native French, the text was translated and published in English in 1903. His meticulous work on the subject earned Cumont international recognition and fame, but his findings were (and are) not without their critics. Cumont did mention some parallels between elements of Mithraism and Christianity in his text, albeit briefly.

[I]t appears certain that the commemoration of the Nativity was set for the 25th of December, because it was at the winter solstice that the rebirth of the invincible god, the Natalis invicti, was celebrated. In adopting this date, which was universally distinguished by sacred festivities, the ecclesiastical authority purified in some measure the profane usages which it could not suppress.1

Such passages are little more than asides in Cumont’s work, but others made considerably more of such ideas. Nineteen years before The Mysteries of Mithra (and three decades before it appeared in English translation), American skeptic Kersey Graves’ controversial The World’s Sixteen Crucified Saviors (1875) had already named Mithras as one of the “Heathen Gods” whose stories, he believed, had inspired Christ’s own mythology. Scottish journalist, rationalist and secularist John M. Robertson’s Pagan Christs (1911) devoted an entire section – thirteen chapters, no less – to Mithraism and spelling out exactly how the author believed the dots could be joined between the recorded birth, life, and death of Mithras and that of Christ.

It is worth noting that neither Graves nor Robertson were engaged in mere comparative mythology with their respective works. Both were subscribers to the idea that Jesus Christ was himself a complete myth, rather than a real historical character. Over the last one hundred and fifty years or so, so much of the conversation around Mithras has reliably veered into this proto-Christ discussion/argument that it has become a well-worn rut which is almost impossible to avoid. However, rather than building an argument from a forgone conclusion, and cherry-picking our evidence to highlight similarities between the Mithras and Christ mythologies, instead, let’s begin by taking a good look at Mithras’ origins.

The First Days of Mithras

In the 1st century CE, the priest at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, philosopher, and historian, Plutarch, wrote of the origins of Roman Mithraism. Plutarch recorded that in the year 67 BCE, an army of pirates with a fleet of more than one thousand ships had captured more than four hundred cities. These pirates were based in Cilicia, now southern Turkey, and they

[…] offered strange sacrifices of their own at Olympus, and celebrated there certain secret rites, among which those of Mithras continue to the present time, having been first instituted by them.2

Whether we believe Plutarch to be wholly unbiased, or absolutely reliably informed, or not, Mithras undoubtedly pre-dates Christ, in name at least. 4th Century BCE protective inscriptions found at Persepolis, in modern-day Iran, invoke “the God Mithra” by name. Zoroastrianism, the region’s religion at the time, is commonly believed to have been founded between 500 and 600 BCE, though its roots run much deeper. In Zoroastrianism, Mithra is one of the three Ahura – a trinity of older gods who originally ruled over the primaeval, undifferentiated Chaos and who were absorbed into that religion from Vedic Hinduism.3

The Vedic deity Mitra is named in a peace treaty between the Hittites and the Hurrian kingdom of the Mitanni, inscribed circa 1400 BCE. In modern Hinduism, Mitra – one of the Vedic Goddess Aditi’s three sons – has become a God of friendship, and an aspect of the Sun-god, Surya.4

The Roman Mithras is a descendant of these truly ancient near-namesakes, but his own mythology is quite distinct from theirs. Much of this lore has been learned, not from written records, but via the interpretation of carvings, frescos, and reliefs in long-lost temples dedicated to the God.

Mithra & worship accessories. 5th-6th century CE. National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan.

Mithras’ Grottos

A Mithraeum is the name given to a temple dedicated to Mithras. Often situated in caves or caverns, those which were wholly man-made were constructed in imitation of those natural grottos. There are close to 200 Roman Mithrea sites known today, in various states of preservation, reconstruction, and dereliction. Spread across what was once the Roman Empire, these sites range from England to Egypt (north to south), and from Portugal to Iraq (east to west). However, archaeological evidence suggests that there would once have been close to 700 such temples within the city of Rome alone. From the geographical spread of these Mithrea, and their correlation with Roman barracks, many have concluded that soldiers were amongst the chief worshippers of Mithras.

Regardless of region or date of construction, Mithrea typically share several distinct features. They have a single entrance, they are (or once would have been) subterranean, and they have long benches along their sides, at which it is assumed a ritual meal was partaken of.

Mithraeum of the Baths of Mithras, at Ostia Antica, Italy.

At the far end of the temple, an apse contains a depiction of Mithras. Sometimes this image is reversible, representing different scenes from the God’s mythos on either side.5 By far the most dominant scene in Roman Mithras worship is that of the God slaying a bull, which is shown in the temple without fail.

Tauroctony (from the Greek ταυροκτόνος: “bull killing”) is the name given to the recurrent scene of Mithras killing a sacrificial bull. These images are heavily standardised and typically depict the scene with the following elements: Mithras half-straddles a bull which has been forced to the ground. The bull appears in profile, facing to his left (the viewers’ right). Mithras has his head turned away from the bull. The bull is held down by Mithras’ left leg, which is bent at an angle and the knee of which presses down on the bull’s spine. The bull’s rump and right hind leg are restrained by Mithras’ right leg, which is almost fully extended. With his left hand, Mithras pulls back the head of the bull by the nostrils or the muzzle. With his right hand, Mithras plunges a dagger into the neck or shoulder of the beast. A dog, and in some cases a snake, is seen rushing to drink the blood which spills from the bull’s wound. A scorpion is sometimes shown poised to attack the exposed testicles of the bull.6 The sun and the moon, and their respective deities (Sol and Luna), are also often shown in the upper right and left of the image, with a starry sky between them.

The possible astrological significance of the sun, the moon, stars, a bull, a scorpion, and sometimes even a lion, in these images has been a matter of much debate over the last one hundred and twenty-something years. Sadly, no consensus on the matter has ever been satisfactorily reached. Academica on the whole now agrees that the scene is almost certainly intended to communicate some astronomical/astrological meaning, but that meaning remains elusive. Back in the early 20th century, despite his own interest in ancient astrology, Franz-Valéry-Marie Cumont wrote that he regarded these lines of enquiry as nothing more than “intellectual diversions designed to amuse the neophytes”.7

Mithras slaying of the bull is interpreted as the triumph of civilisation over barbarism. Of order over chaos. Wheat and grapes spring forth from the wild beast’s blood and body; from the death of barbarism come the fruits of civility.8

Mithras’ Nativity

In addition to the Tauroctony, the scene of Mithras’ birth is frequently depicted in Mithrea and related Roman era iconography. Mithras, it is recorded, was birthed from a great stone, not as a baby, but as an adolescent. Mithras is usually depicted as having been birthed inside a cave, though sometimes he is shown to have been born from the solid rock of a mountain, a cave being left behind in the wake of his birth.

It would be remiss not to include a wonderful bit of speculative Mithras lore which I accidentally came across. Published in 2020 in the Journal of the International Meteor Organization, Jane T. Sibley authored a paper entitled “Was Mithras “born” from a meteorite?“. Its abstract reads:

One of the more enigmatic puzzles in Mithraic iconography is the question of the god’s apparent birth from a large lumpy piece of stone. It is argued that it is natural to assume that this stone was thought of as a meteorite from which Mithras was not “born”, but which served to transport him to Earth.9

Might the “Mithras was an alien” theory also incorporate the seemingly opaque astronomical symbolism of the Tauroctony? Almost certainly, but this is a digression too far, I fear.

Many would argue that Mithras’ emergence from a stone is a parentless birth, rather than a virgin one. He does not seem to have grown within the stone, yet breaks out of it fully formed, the stone acting more like a portal than a substitute womb. He is even wearing a hat when he makes his entrance: the Phrygian cap, which looks like those worn by The Smurfs.

Some depictions of Mithras’ birth show a pair of shepherds in attendance, while in others this is a pair of torch-bearers. Emerging from the rock, Mithras is typically shown from the waist upwards. In one hand he holds a knife or dagger (the same weapon with which he would later slay the bull), in the other a flaming torch, ball of fiery light, or sometimes a thunderbolt. This shining or flaming object represents Mithras as the bringer of light to the world.

Mithras petra genetrix Terme, circa 186 CE, Baths of Diocletian.
Marie-Lan Nguyen (2006).

Merry Mithras

The banqueting scene which follows Mithras’ slaying of the bull is second only to the Tauroctony in its frequency of appearance in Mithrea. Indeed, this is the scene depicted on the other side of the reversible friezes mentioned earlier.

The hide of the bull is shown covering a bench on which Mithras and the Roman sun god Sol, and latterly his later incarnation Sol Invictus (the “Invincible Sun” or “Unconquorable Sun”), recline. A feast is spread on a table before the pair, and each holds a drinking vessel filled with wine. The feasting benches which are a feature of Mithrea are assumed to have been used for ritual banqueting by worshippers in emulation of the scene.

Feast scene from Ladenburg (colourised).
The New Mithraeum / Andreu Abuín (CC BY-SA).

Mithrasism was, so far as we can tell, a cult with no public ceremonies or celebrations. Initiates took part in rituals hidden within subterranean Mithrea. Where then, does the idea that Christmas Day was once Mithras’ Day originate?

The Chronograph of 354 [CE] was created by the calligrapher and illustrator Furius Dionysius Filocalus, commissioned by a wealthy Roman Christian named Valentinus. This illustrated compilation of chronological and calendrical texts contains the earliest known reference to Christmas being celebrated on the 25th of December. The Chronograph also records that the festival of natalis Invicti (Birth of the Unconquerable Sun) was held on the same day. Franz-Valéry-Marie Cumont, as we know, had made this same connection in his Mystères de Mithra. Prior to the late 16th century, and the introduction of the Gregorian calendar, the 25th of December was the date of the Northern Hemisphere’s Winter Solstice. The shortest day and the longest night before the season begins to turn towards the Spring. The festival of natalis Invicti being celebrated on this day is, therefore, self-explanatory.

Mithras was never regarded or worshipped by the Romans as the Sun God, rather he was instead a deity closely associated with the sun and with Sol/Sol Invictus. The Birth of the Unconquerable Sun was almost certainly a festival of symbolic re-birth – the turn of the year from darkness towards the sun’s life-giving rays – rather than a blowing-out-candles and unwrapping presents birthday party. Although, if it had been the latter, I’m sure that Mithras would have had an invite and been sent home with a party-bag and a decent-sized slice of cake.

Mithras was birthed in a cave, from a stone and was already a teenager, wearing a hat and carrying a knife and a flaming torch. The shepherds who may or may not have witnessed this happening seem to be the only thing that his origin story and that of Jesus Christ have in common. There is no known record of the date of the Roman Mithras’ arrival in the earthly realm, and his connections with the 25th of December seem to come solely from his good friend Sol.

The earliest evidence of the significance of the Winter Solstice to humans dates back to Neolithic times, with the alignment of monuments such as Newgrange in Ireland and Maeshowe in Scotland – thousands of years before the birth of Mithras and Jesus both. Tribute has been paid to Sol Invictus – the Invincible Sun – under many, many other names since the dawn of humanity. So, happy re-birthday, Sol! And a very merry mid-winter to one and all.

Footnotes

  1. https://sacred-texts.com/cla/mom/mom09.htm#page_194 ↩︎
  2. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:abo:tlg,0007,045:24 ↩︎
  3. https://web.archive.org/web/20230902010040/https://iranicaonline.org/articles/ahura-1-type-of-deity ↩︎
  4. https://hindupedia.com/en/Mitra#cite_note-1 ↩︎
  5. https://historyandarchaeologyonline.com/the-layout-of-a-typical-roman-mithraeum%EF%BF%BC%EF%BF%BC/ ↩︎
  6. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tauroctony ↩︎
  7. https://archive.org/details/mysteriesofmythr00cumouoft/page/n151/mode/2up?q=neophytes ↩︎
  8. https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/mithras-slaying-the-bull/ ↩︎
  9. https://ui.adsabs.harvard.edu/abs/2020JIMO…48…21S/abstract ↩︎

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