Satan
Buckle up, kids–-we’re in for a big one! Satan, the big baddie, is a character that most people throughout the world are at least marginally familiar with. He wears quite a few different hats, however, and his role has changed a great deal over the 2,300-odd years he’s been around.
His first appearance was in the book of Job, where he speaks to the god of the Israelites (Yahweh) about the nature of humanity’s faith. He is named as Satan, which means “the Adversary.” All Satan did was ask the big questions: he observed that those mortals who led rich and happy lives had no problem worshipping God, but how would they feel if they had it all taken away? God saw the point, and picked poor Job, a rich farmin’ man, to prove himself correct. He killed Job’s family, took all of his money, land, and cattle, and covered him with boils. Through it all, Job continued to worship, and God got to whip out the satisfying “told you so!” to Satan.
Satan, you see, was just another divine dude up in heaven with God. Ipso facto, he was an angel. After the Job story, the Hebrews began to see ol’ Satan as an evil force, and eventually the source of all evil. This suggests the influence of Persian thinking: a battle between good and evil, going forever. After all, the Israelites came from Persia before the whole Egypt/Exodus debacle, and it only makes sense that some mythological and cultural diffusion can be seen there. They created a hierarchy of demons for him to control, to oppose God and his angelic hierarchy, and eventually he had his own origin story put together: the tale, as far as ancient Jewish lore is concerned, had Satan rebelling against God and was hurled by an angel (probably Michael, if you’re curious) into the abyss.
Now, the Christians really ran with the Satan-stuff. “The Devil” can be traced back to the Latin diabolus, which is the source of “diabolical,” and became synonymous with Satan back in the day. In the Apocryphal book of John the Evangelist, Jesus describes Satan’s transformation into an handsome fellow with a tail and cloven hoofs. After that, more and more of the world’s wicked side became attributed to Satan.
Dante Alighieri’s The Inferno (a part of his Divine Comedy) had Satan at the innermost ring of hell as a great three-faced beast, half-frozen in ice, eternally devouring Judas Iscariot, Brutus and Cassius (Dante was a 14-th century Italian, and not a fan of the whole Julius Caesar-murder-thing). Note: no fire and brimstone. Milton, who expanded on the rebellion motif, put together Paradise Lost in the 17th century, which told the tale of Satan (aka Lucifer) and his rebellion in heaven. In the poem Satan sets himself up as the defeated rebels’ leader, and founds hell on the platform of poisoning God’s favourite thing: mankind. “Lucifer” translates to the title “Morning Star” or “Light-bearer,” which was how Satan was known before he was cast out of heaven. Back then, he was a powerful angel, according to Christian lore, and was either a Cherubim or Power in the Angelic Hierarchy.
The Nine Worthies
The Nine Worthies are nine figures from history/scripture/mythology who were set up in the Middle Ages as archetypal heroes who personified the ideas of chivalry and virtue. All nine were deemed “Princes,” each being leaders in some form or another. In French, they are Les Neuf Preux, meaning “Nine Valiants,” which gives a more particular idea of the sort of virtue and all-around goodness they were meant to embody. The idea of setting up the Nine Worthies was that the study of each of them would form a good education for aspiring princes regarding their chivalry and radness.
The Worthies were first described in 1312 CE by Jacques de Longuyon in his Voeux du Paon. The idea was that good ol’ fashioned Christian virtue predated the coming of Christ, and was present in Pagan and Jewish societies as well. I bet you’re just dying to know who the Worthies were, huh? I don’t blame you. Let’s get to it. They were divided into a triad of triads, as follows.
Pagans:
Hector, the champion of Troy, who fell honourably to the mighty Achilles.
Alexander the Great, who conquered much of the Mediterranean and Persia, spreading the wisdom of the Greeks, as the medieval scholars saw it.
Julius Caesar, who was the progenitor of Rome’s Empire, that would become the bed of Christendom.
Old Testament Jews:
Joshua, who became the leader of the Israelites after Moses, and led the conquest of the holy land, Canaan.
David, the anointed king and Messiah of the Hebrew people, who slew Goliath and whose line was forever chosen by God (Yahweh) to lead his people.
Judas Maccabeus, who led the revolt against the Seleucid empire, and restored the Jewish faith to the Temple at Jerusalem.
Christians:
King Arthur, who in Christian myth was the idyllic king in pursuit of honour, justice, and the holy grail.
Charlemagne, the King of the Franks who turned his kingdom into an empire that would encompass most of western Europe and be the protector of Catholic Rome for centuries.
Godfrey of Bouillon, a medieval Frankish knight who was a leader of the First Crusade, and became the first ruler of the (short-lived) Christian Kingdom of Jerusalem.
Saint Patrick
Here he is, folks: the patron Saint of Ireland, whose big day is March 17, honoured the world over with copious amounts of green alcohol and annoying pinching prayer and appreciation. It’s the end of the holiday now as this article goes up, but who are we kidding— none of you will be in any shape to read this until late tomorrow morning, right?
We have two authentic letters written by the ol’ Saint, and from them we can garner a few pieces of information: Patrick, when he was about 16 years old, was captured from Britain by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. He dwelt there, slave-style, for six years before escaping and returning to his family. After entering the Church and becoming a learned fellow and ordained bishop he returned to Ireland and did the whole Saint-thang.
His famous exploits include but are not limited to:
▪ Banishing all the snakes from Ireland (they attacked him during a fast — big mistake.
▪ Making the Shamrock important — he related the three-leafed clover to the three faces of the trinity. The metaphor stuck.
▪ His magic walking stick growing into a real tree.
▪ Communicating with ancient Irish ancestors. Being psychic is always a helpful Saintly tool.
To sum up, he was a devout bishop that served in Ireland, and lived through the late-4th to mid-5th centuries CE. He died on the 17th of March, and the day is celebrated as a day of solemnity and holy obligation in Ireland, and a day of general merriment and “kiss-me-I’m-Irish-ness” everywhere else.
Saint Valentine
In honour of Valentine’s Day, I thought we’d take a brief moment to explore ol’ Saint Valentine’s origins. There were more than a few St. Valentines in the lists of the martyred saints of ancient Rome; this is largely due to the fact that the name “Valentine” was a particularly popular one in Late Antiquity (it was derived from valens and meant “worthy, strong, and/or powerful”).
In 496 CE, Pope Gelasius I established the first feast of St. Valentine for February 14, putting ol’ Valentine’s name among those “whose names are justly reverenced among men, but whose acts are known only to God.” We don’t know much about the particular Valentine who gives us February 14 as his feast day, other than the fact that on this day he was buried at the Via Flaminia, north of Rome. The Valentine that appears in various martyrologies in connections with the 14th of February is described as being either a priest in Rome, a bishop, or a martyr in the Roman province of Africa.
Much later, around 1260 CE, the Legenda Aurea of Jacobus de Voragine said that Saint Valentine was brought before the Emperor Claudius, and refused to deny Christ in the year 280 CE. Before he was beheaded, this Valentine restored sight and hearing to the daughter of his jailer with his saintly powers.
(In the photo above, St. Valentine receives a rosary from the Virgin Mary)
Adam
According to the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible, Adam was the first man. In the book of Genesis, God (Yahweh, as his friends know him) made him from dust and gave him a beautiful garden in which to live ‘n play. Everything in the garden belonged to Adam, except for the fruit of one tree. That one tree. Together, with his consort Eve (created c/o Yahweh and one of Adam’s ribs) Adam ate the forbidden fruit from the tree. Now, this tree just happened to be the tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, and the original duo lost their innocence. They were cast out of the garden, and had to work to survive. They were thusly made the first man and woman, toughin’ it out in the real world.
According to the Jewish mystical system known as the Kabbalah, Adam both symbolized and embraced cosmic perfection. With Adam’s fall, the material world was created and the light of his divine nature was broken up into countless minute sparks, which are the lights that illuminate human souls. At the end of time, they will be reunited into perfection once more.
Adam was the progenitor of everybody, according to Jewish, Islamic, and Christian tradition. He lived to the ripe old age of 930, a number that would slowly decline as the generations flew by. In Islam he is seen as the first prophet, and in Christianity he’s the guy that brought about original sin. In Judaism, even though he’s #1 chronologically, Abraham is seen more as the father/founder of the Hebrew people. It’s not just about being first. It’s about wanting it more.
Galahad
When it came to purity, nobody in Arthurian Myth held a candle to Sir Galahad. One of the younger Knights of Arthur’s group, Galahad was the son of the renowned Lancelot. From the beginning of Galahad’s manhood, it was made clear that he was without blemish. Twelve nuns demanded that he was made a Knight of Arthur’s court, for as they saw it, there was “no man more deserving of the order of knighthood.” As soon as Galahad took his place at the Round Table, the presence of the Holy Grail was felt by all the knights of Camelot.
The quest for the Grail was an important preoccupation of the Round Table. One of the seats was always left vacant, as it was the rightful place reserved for the knight who would find the Grail. Until Galahad sat there, (sorry for the spoiler) no knight had earned the right to occupy the seat without being instantly swallowed by the earth.
The Grail provided the knights with a feast, though none of them saw it. Sir Gawain vowed to find it to see it for himself, and most of the knights made similar vows, though King Arthur tried to dissuade them from these perilous journeys. Galahad went in the company of Sir Percival and Sir Bors. After getting a tip from Joseph of Arimathea and restoring a Maimed King with a magic spear, Galahad saw the Grail in a vision. Years went by, and many miracles occurred, but eventually Joseph returned. He allowed Galahad to hold the Grail for a few moments, and as Galahad knelt down to pray for his deliverance, his soul was suddenly released from his body and “a great multitude of angels bore it up to heaven.”
Sure, it’s instant death, but this was the greatest Christian reward available. Galahad was guaranteed to live in the next life in the constant presence of Christ.
Percival
Also known as Perceval or Parsifal in different traditions, Percival was, in later Arthurian mythology (of the Christian variety) somewhat of an outsider. He was brought up in a forest, far from the court of Camelot, and was ignorant of courtly manners. Nonetheless, Arthur eventually made him a Knight of the Round Table, and our boy Percy set off in pursuit of the Holy Grail, the end-all goal of many Arthurian tales.
The Grail was the holy vessel used at the Last Supper by Jesus of Nazareth, and received the blood that flowed from the spear wound in Christ’s side during the crucifixion. It had been brought to Britain by Joseph of Arimathea, the rich man who had allowed Christ’s body to be placed in his tomb. It got lost in Britain, and the Knights of the Round Table spent a good amount of time in hot pursuit of it.
Percival was all about purity. He wasn’t quite as pure as Galahad (Lancelot’s son) would prove to be, but he was easily the silver-medal winner in the purity contest. On his personal Grail quest, Percival encountered a mysterious ship, and at once fell in love with the beautiful lady who owned it. They were just about to get busy, but he glanced at the cross on the pommel of his sword, and it reminded him of his knightly duty to be a good Christian dude. He made the sign of the cross on his forehead, and the boat turned into a black cloud of smoke, as the enchantress started screaming and running away, the water around her burning. She a demon, Percival. So upset with himself for this moral lapse, he wounded himself in the thigh. You’re too hard on yourself, Percy.
Though he caught a glimpse of the Grail, he proved not quite pure enough to attain it. THIS close, though.
Many of the Percival stories were adapted from the Welsh myths of Peredur.
Peredur
In Welsh mythology, Peredur was the seventh son of Evrawg and the only surviving male. Perhaps you’ve heard of Percival, a Knight of Arthur’s Round Table? He’s the guy that’s pictured above (it’s tough to find a picture of Peredur). Well, he’s an adapted version of good ol’ Peredur, a 5th-century Welsh hero in the retinue of the original Arthur. We’ll talk more about Percival and his Christian questing later on; for now, back to Peredur.
To cut to the chase, he was renowned as an incredible warrior. He was particularly adept at taking on witches. Peredur: Witch-Hunter. In Peredur’s day, witches were female warriors who took the field attired in full armour, and used the power of the gods alongside their grim arms and armour. The myth of Peredur, as it is told in the Mabinogion ends with a terrible duel between him and a leader of the witches:
“For the third time the hag slew a man of Arthur’s before Peredur’s eyes, and Peredur drew his sword and smote the witch on the crest of her helmet so that the helmet and all the armour were split into two. And she raised a shout, and ordered the rest of the witches to flee, and said it was Peredur who was destined to slay all the witches of Caer Loyw.”
The feats of Peredur would form the basis for those of Percival, who we’ll discuss later.
Mordred and the Death of Arthur
Mordred (sometimes Modred) was one of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table, and his name is now synonymous with treachery. Mordred’s relationship to Arthur varies between sources; sometimes he is the illegitimate son of Arthur, sometimes Arthur’s nephew. Most descriptions of him in Arthurian literature are not kind, labelling him a traitor, corrupt and wicked. However, a few works of the Middle Ages and some modern interpretations portray him less as a traitor and more a conflicted opportunist, or even a victim of fate. Maybe he’s just misunderstood.
Mordred, while ferocious in strength of arms and for the most part a stalwart warrior under Arthur, is described as having a lust for power he kept hidden from his father/uncle (depending on the version) and his brother knights until the time was right. He discovered the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere, and exposed it to Arthur to disrupt the balance of Arthur’s kingdom. When Arthur went to Brittany to besiege the fleeing Lancelot, Mordred, who had been appointed regent in Arthur’s stead, tried to force Guinevere to marry him, and took control of a large part of Arthur’s forces. When Arthur returned in wrath, the Battle of Camlann was fought, the last of Arthur’s reign. Mordred and Arthur fought in a single combat that was surely the most epic of duels ever, ending with Mordred being slain, and Arthur being fatally wounded.
Knowing the severity of his wound, Arthur had Excalibur thrown back into the lake, where a hand grabbed it and pulled it down. Now, Arthur doesn’t technically die in these stories. He boards an enchanted ship bound for Avalon, the magic isle, to be cured of his wounds, that he might one day return to lead the Britons once more. It is from here we get the label of Arthur as “The Once and Future King.” He’ll be back, just you wait.
Lancelot
One of the mightiest and noblest of Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table was Lancelot. He was known as Lancelot of the Lake because the Lady of the Lake (who provided Arthur with Excalibur) plunged him into a magic pool when he was a child. This story, a Christian addition, is essentially a magic baptism in a blessed pool that makes you an unstoppable ass-kicking machine. And indeed, in the realm of Arthurian myth, nobody was gonna beat Lancelot in a fight. This guy was a powerhouse. A sexy powerhouse.
Lancelot was the hot one. The hottest one. All the women wanted him, whether they admitted it or not, but Lancelot only had eyes for Arthur’s queen, Guinevere. He was the Queen’s Champion, and all of his great adventures and exploits were informed by his secret love for her. For a time Guinevere would not allow Lancelot to come to her, but eventually she gave in, and they became lovers. Secret lovers. Their secret was eventually exposed by Sir Mordred, and this led to the splitting of the Round Table Knights, and Arthur made war on Lancelot in Brittany. Mordred’s motives were then revealed, when he used Arthur and Lancelot’s absence from Britain to seize power and claim Guinevere as his own, leading to the last battle of Arthur and the end of his reign. Lancelot ended his life as a hermit, willingly sundered from Guinevere, his brother knights, and his former glory.
Together, Lancelot and Arthur were the knights most exemplifying strength through chivalry and honour. However, the Arthurian stories in the Christian vein were all about demonstrating the merits of Chivalry vs. Purity; in the end, the knights that most embodied the Christian “purity” were seen as superior to the exclusively chivalrous, and found success and lasting renown, keeping their honour, while the others all fell from greatness. Characters like Galahad and Percival, who were closely involved in the Grail quests were, in the end, placed above men like Lancelot and Arthur, who were seen as flawed for their descent into lust and vengeance that contributed to the sundering of Arthur’s realm.