Magicians and Miracle-Workers:
A New Method in the Realm of Magic
Paden Alexander Unruh
M.A. in Religious Studies, CU Boulder, July 23, 2020
Committee: Dr. Samuel Boyd, Dr. Elias Sacks, Dr. Deborah Whitehead
A thesis submitted to the
Faculty of the Graduate School of the
University of Colorado in partial fulfillment
Of the requirement for the degree of
Master of Arts
Department of Religious Studies
2020
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Abstract: Paden Alexander Unruh, M.A., Religious Studies, “Magicians and Miracle-Workers: A
New Method in the Realm of Magic”, Dr. Samuel Boyd.
The current methods for identifying what is “magical” and distinguishing it from what is
“religious” have hitherto been relatively vague and inconsistent within the academic field.1 In order to identify more clearly these two categories, which have been heavily entrenched within modern culture, it is necessary to approach the issue in an entirely different manner than what has been attempted. This work proposes a new method of identification that questions the course of past studies, looking instead to the practitioners themselves and identifying them as a magician, a miracle-worker, or an outlier along a magico-religious spectrum. When the figure has been appropriately identified through two primary criteria, it is then possible to label their associated supernatural actions as either “magic” or “miracle.” This work will then apply the new method of identification to several different case studies, showcasing how this approach may be applied across a variety of examples.
1 For example, both essentialist and functionalist definitions have had positive and negative aspects to their application. See Andrew M. McKinnon, “Sociological Definitions, Language Games, and the ‘Essence’ of Religion”, Method & Theory in the Study of Religion, Vol. 14, No. 1, 2002, pg. 61-83.
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Acknowledgments
I would like to thank all of the faculty, staff, friends, and family that have helped me to learn and grow over my time at CU Boulder, including Dr. Boyd, Dr. Sacks, Dr. Whitehead, my colleagues in the graduate department, and my loving and supportive family. Most of all I would like to thank Sage, my husband and my rock, whose love and support inspires me daily.
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Contents:
Introduction- pg. 1
Chapter One: Scholarly and Theoretical Works on the Subject of “Magic”- pg. 10
Chapter Two: Defining a Magician: Laying the Groundwork for the Future and the Two A’s- pg.
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Chapter Three: Miracle-Workers- pg. 60
Chapter Four: Magicians- pg. 72
Chapter Five: Outliers- pg. 90
Conclusion- pg. 102
Bibliography- pg. 105
1
Introduction The prospect of distinguishing “magic” from “religion” has proven to be a difficult task, though one that has been the subject of many scholarly works.2 Many writers have sought to define religion and magic, often labeling the prominent figures that follow these abstract categories as miracle-workers3 or magicians; however, as explored below, this is an ineffective way to approach the issue, often culminating in either blatantly false information (as biased by religious and cultural norms of the era) or a concession that “magic” has little meaning outside of its relation to religion (itself a very ambiguous term). Religion and magic, terms which are heavily entrenched in the modern academic field, need to be identified in a way that is more quantifiable and recognizable.4
As such, this work proposes that a new system be implemented for identifying a magician and distinguishing them from a miracle-worker. Due to the prior academic focus on tools and rituals yielding mixed results, this work will instead focus on the individual practitioner rather than on the tools they use, thereby relegating “magic” or “religion” to the respective toolkits of
2 A discussion of some of these thinkers will follow in chapter two. Due to the parameters of the present research not all major thinkers will be referenced as thoroughly as their work deserves, and some rather influential thinkers had to be left out altogether. For an analysis on some of these thinkers, including Sigmund Freud, Max Muller, Carl Jung, and Baron Carl du Prel, see Jason A. Josephson-Storm, The Myth of Disenchantment: Magic, Modernity, and the Birth of the Human Sciences, 2017, pg.179-208 3 “Miracle worker” is a term used in this study to denote men and women who perform supernatural, miraculous or otherwise seemingly impossible deeds with the help of divine intervention in some form. The term “theurgist” was initially considered but was ultimately too tied in with specific religious traditions to be applicable in many cases.
4 This is due in part to the fact that “magic” has historically been used to define the “religious other.” This will be covered in more detail in chapter two.
2 their user.5 Thus, I propose that we move forward with a method that first identifies the role of the practitioner, whether as a magician or miracle-worker, then label their actions accordingly.6
This method will label magic (or miracle) based on the practitioner and their actions.7 It will function primarily as a tool for scholars to identify more readily and consistently the phenomena of magic. This will likely receive some criticism, as it moves in the opposite direction of most analyses of the topic.8 However, this is exactly why this method was decided upon, as it will aid in the creation of a more consistent system of identification, one that is flexible enough to be versatile when needed but concrete enough to be consistent.
An analogy that has often come up in the process of this research is that of a blacksmith and their tools. One could, theoretically, look at a blacksmith’s toolkit (magic, in this analogy) and
5 Several of these prior academic works will be discussed in the subsequent chapter on ancient magic. The method proposed in this research will be taking a more utilitarian approach to the analysis of religion and magic, drawing from multiple approaches to the topic while not subscribing to any one pre-existing view on magic.
6 It should be noted that the method itself will examine actions taken by these individuals, whether they be magician or miracle-worker, but will do so primarily with the intent of an initial categorization of the figure in question. Once the individual has been analyzed and properly categorized their actions will be labeled as “magic” or “miracle” (denoting a religious phenomenon) accordingly. All actions taken by this figure, until the individual is identified, will be analyzed but not categorized. Supernatural feats accomplished by the individuals will be seen as occurring somewhere within a “magico-religious spectrum” until the practitioner’s nature is established.
7 Tools and rituals are therefore still important, but will not be the point that distinguishes the individual. Going back to the blacksmith analogy, a set of tongs could be used as a blacksmith’s tool and identified as such, but could also have been used in basic cooking. What is important is to see how the individual used it, and identify the tool accordingly. If the individual used the tongs in the process of heating and shaping metal, then it is the tool of a blacksmith, while tongs that were used to flip hunks of meat over an open flame would be the tool of a cook. In this sense, the intent and purpose of the tool is what is important, not the tool itself.
8 The views that are more commonly espoused will be discussed in chapter one. 3 thereby figure out the nature of the blacksmith (the magician) and their work. However, this approach leads to questions that problematize the identification itself. How does one know what is in a blacksmith’s toolkit without first identifying the job and nature of the blacksmith? How can a researcher be sure that one toolkit is the same as another? If the toolkits all contain a hammer, does this make all hammers innately a blacksmithing tool? These manner of questions are very similar to the identification of “magical” practice and implements, which could include anything from prayers and elaborate rituals to bejeweled skulls, grimoires, and engraved gems. Instead, we must reverse the direction of analysis, looking to the craftsperson instead of the craft. If, for example, we identified a blacksmith as someone who heats raw metal and shapes it into something else (such as a tool, weapon, etc.), then we have a much clearer path ahead of us. One would simply look for a figure that fits these criteria, then examine the tools they use in the process of their craft. As such, the blacksmith’s toolkit is identified by its association with the blacksmith and the blacksmith’s goals, not by the tools contained therein. In a similar fashion, magic in this scenario would be associated with the magician and would include any tools, rituals, or practices that were involved in the execution of their craft.9 Miracle-workers and magicians
9 As will become apparent in the following sections, this will inevitably upend some definitions already proposed for magic and its practitioners. However, the author believes that such upheaval is necessary, and will inevitably lead to a more identifiable set of figures within the studies of both magic and religion.
4 will both be examined based on the character and goal of the individual10 rather than on the methods they employ.11
It is important to note that this definition will be on a sliding scale. Many figures remain consistent throughout their careers, but many others have a diverse set of stories that seem to portray opposing depictions of their actions. As such, some figures who are at one time labeled as a miracle-worker might, in a different case, be identified as a magician, as will be discussed in- depth later on. In these cases, the individual will be identified as “performing their role” as a miracle-worker or a magician in the individual instance. By using my proposed method of identification, scholars can analyze each figure more thoroughly while being less grounded in the rather loose categorization of “magic” that has hitherto dominated the academic discussion of these topics.12 This would allow for each scholar to understand the figure they wish to study
10 This is not to say their moral character, but rather their features and traits that can be examined throughout their career.
11 It is first necessary to note that literary depictions, such as those being examined in this text, are not the same as actual practice, nor are they the same as historical individuals. However, the use of literary figures in this work was decided upon so as to examine “characters” rather than “practitioners,” in part due to the potential backlash involved in a new method being applied to living or recently deceased individuals. The use of literary figures may also provide some insight into the views of both the author and the reader, due in part to the “implied audience” laid out by the text. For more information on implied audience, including the ways in which these audience members shape the retelling of the narrative itself, see Wayne Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction, 1983, pg. 422-438. Furthermore, the author hopes that by removing “method” or “tools” as the primary distinguishing feature of these individuals (hitherto a common practice) that scholars will be given more clarity in instances where the methods of “magicians” and “miracle-workers” appear to be much the same. Moses’ encounter with the Egyptians sorcerers will be a prime example of this in a later section. 12 Several prominent thinkers on these topics will be addressed in the following chapter.
5 within their respective cultural context while still allowing scholars of other cultures to analyze the figure in question as well.
To use the blacksmith analogy once again, blacksmiths of different cultures may have different styles of workplace (a forge in town, a workshop at a palace, etc.) but they all perform similar tasks to some degree.13 As such, one would fully expect to see a blacksmith hammering away at a blade at their place of work, regardless of how that workplace looks. One might not, however, expect to see a blacksmith hammering away at a sword in the middle of a crowded masquerade ball. Granted, perhaps there is a culture somewhere that believes that a blacksmith clanging on metal is excellent background noise for a waltz, but this would appear strange to the common understanding of a blacksmith’s role. At this point it would be up to a scholar of the culture in question to determine whether such a scene was out of place. However, the identification of the figure as a blacksmith would be unchanged, as they are still performing the role of a blacksmith by applying pressure and heat to metal in order to shape it, albeit in an odd location. In a similar fashion, a magician performing their craft for a private client or a priest performing a religious rite at a temple would be seen as typical of the figure in question’s work.14
A magician performing their craft in the middle of a public baptism or a priest performing a religious ritual in a deserted alley, by contrast, would seem out of place and would require a
13 This is not to say that all blacksmiths have work that comes out looking the same. Each culture and society has their own standards, tools, and practices, but the craft of shaping metal remains universal. 14 This is in some ways similar to the Roman definitions on the topic. See Naomi Janowitz, Magic in the Roman World, 2001.
6 scholar who specializes in that figure’s culture to determine whether this was normal, strange, or subversive behavior for someone of that station.
This method is not merely a way to identify past figures who have already been studied, however. Having a consistent method of identification is highly important in today’s era due to the growing presence of religions like Wicca and Neo-Paganism, which frequently invoke magic as a positive term. This goes directly against many historical precedents, which held magic as a title saved for competing ideological viewpoints.15 However, modern Neo-Pagans are reclaiming the term in a positive light.16 The methods introduced to this work, then, are re-examinations of ancient material in light of contemporary issues.17 While it is impossible to state definitively what the ancient figures would have said about such an approach, it remains the responsibility of scholars to address issues surrounding them in their own cultural context. This author hopes that scholars may not only find in this a system that applies to ancient examples, but that is also
15 This will be addressed in the ancient magic category, particularly through the works of Janowitz and Harari.
16 It should be noted that this is not limited to the realms of religion and magic. Reclaiming terminology for different purposes has become something of a pattern itself in the modern- day. For a good example, see the “Slut Walk,” which happens annually across the states and is meant to fight against rape culture while using the terms and clothing most often used to justify sexual assault by those accused of it.
17 Due to the contemporary issues being addressed, it is important to be transparent on the positionality of the author. Having a background in both magic and Christianity as both a practitioner and an academic, my views have been shaped by exposure to multiple realms of religious experience and identity. This work, in part, has been shaped by the concerns brought up from past experiences as well as by a desire to reconcile these movements to some extent by creating a magico-religious spectrum from which academics might work. My hope is that through such a method scholars may find common ground from which to examine their subject of research with other scholars of religion or magic.
7 relevant to modern societies, as well as those to come. It is the hope of this author that the creation of such a method will help to reduce the use of analysis that focuses solely on cultural expertise while addressing the concerns and viewpoints of modern communities. 18
There are a number of possible benefits from applying the method proposed in the following research. First and foremost, by placing individuals on a magico-religious spectrum using a set of common criteria, this method will open the possibility for more fruitful conversation between scholars of different disciplines. For instance, such a method could be used by sociologists, anthropologists, and religious studies scholars alike, who could compare their findings using similar methods. Another potential benefit is the lessening of stigma towards groups labeled as practicing “magic” or “religion”, respectively. The method proposed herein attempts to reconcile emic perspectives on religion with academic views on the matter. By taking emic perspectives into account when categorizing figures as “magicians” or “miracle-workers”, while not being solely dependent upon the emic perspective, the author hopes to create a system that is free of some of the historical baggage associated with this dichotomy of terms.19 Lastly, it is my hope
18 It should be noted at this juncture that the author does not intend to remove “culture” from the study and examination of magic and religion. Rather, this work intends to create a methodology that can be applied by both cultural experts of the phenomena in question as well as by those who study the phenomena of “magic” more broadly. In so doing, each figure may be analyzed both as a magical practitioner within the confines of their own respective culture while simultaneously being examined in contrast with those that fall under the same category from other regions. There will undoubtedly be cultural differences in these practices and beliefs that cannot be reconciled through this method, and it is not the intent of this method to solve these differences. Rather, it is the goal of this system of identification to provide a common starting point from which these figures, phenomena, and events may be studied under a common heading. This will allow scholars to analyze, define, and address more accurately the issues facing their figures of study within their respective culture. 19 A discussion of this dichotomy will be detailed more in chapter one when examining the various academic and emic perspectives on the topics. 8 that the academic conversations that arise from this method help take another step towards unraveling and identifying these often obscure, and frequently challenging, categories.
The potential benefits to such a method are vast, but it would be reckless to brush aside the potential hazards of such a method. One of these potential hazards is the categorization of a group, be they magical or religious, by those outside said group. If applied without taking emic perspectives into account, such a method could be highly offensive or inaccurate to the groups being studied. In order to prevent such a slight from occurring, the present research has incorporated perspectives from both practitioners of magic as well as academics who study these phenomena. A second potential hazard is due to the use of a spectrum for identifying such figures rather than clear-cut definitions. As spectrums tend to be more subjective than defined categories there will inevitably be interpretations of data that disagree with each other, potentially leading to multiple interpretations of the same figure. However, the author would argue that such conflict is necessary for obtaining a greater understanding of these abstract topics. It is through multiple interpretations of an individual that scholars might be able to flesh out a more nuanced and balanced perspective on those labeled as magicians or miracle-workers, and such perspectives will ideally lead to a greater understanding of these topics from multiple academic avenues. Additionally, figures whose identity is debated amongst different analyses may be put under a level of scrutiny that they would have avoided otherwise due to magical or religious status. Lastly, this method could run into pushback from practitioners who seek to apply it to their own leaders or individuals but find the results troubling. For this reason, it is necessary to state that this tool is not meant to place a “label” or “identity” on a religious group or their beliefs, and is not intended for use outside of the academy. This tool is not meant to affix a label 9 upon the religious groups or tell them how they identify, nor is it meant as a tool for academics to inform emic groups as to how should be labeled. Rather, this method has been created as a utilitarian instrument from which scholars may derive a deeper level of meaning and understanding from such hotly debated topics, and is thereby meant as a first step towards a deeper comprehension of phenomena that have fascinated and vexed humankind for millennia.
The following chapters will discuss the many complexities involved in defining these much- debated terms. Chapter one will discuss some of the prevailing thinkers of “magic” and their conceptions of what is included within this category.20 The chapter will begin with a discussion on ancient magic, with each thinker’s views addressed and summarized. The chapter will then progress to a discussion on the modern evolution of the study of magic, primarily to contrast more recent views on magic with those of antiquity.21 Chapter one will conclude with a discussion of the conflicting nature of these views, moving towards a discussion of alternative methods.
Chapter two will discuss the nature of the author’s proposed method, addressing both the intent of the analysis as well as the finer details of each criterion involved. Embedded within these discussions will be hypothetical applications of the work, so as to adequately exemplify the
20 It should be noted that not all major thinkers will be included within the course of this discussion, due primarily to the expansive field of thinkers involved. However, the thinkers herein addressed discuss most of the prominent theories of magic and its study from antiquity to modernity, and thus represent a choice selection that may best represent the historical evolution of this elusive topic.
21 Modern magic, as it is not the primary topic of examination for this paper, will not be covered as extensively as ancient magic. It is still important, however, to acknowledge and understand the ways in which ancient conceptions have been addressed, refined, and repurposed over the course of history. Modern understandings of magic have been drastically shaped by ancient ideas, but have ultimately taken on a much different framework that lacks the moral condemnation of magic present in many ancient sources.
10 method before moving to its application through case studies. Chapter two will also include a brief summary of the method following these hypothetical applications.
Chapter three will discuss Moses, an archetypal miracle-worker by the standards of this new method. Chapter four will discuss Solomon, who serves as an example of a magician within this method’s scope.22 Chapter five will discuss Jesus as according to the Gospels of Mark and Luke and will exemplify the need for the “outlier” status within this method. 23 Chapter six will include brief summary notes, an overview of the findings in this research, and will conclude with closing thoughts as to potential future applications of this method.
Chapter 1: Scholarly and Theoretical Works on the Subject of “Magic”
Ancient Magic:
This section will seek to condense and analyze the works of a number of thinkers of ancient magic and will provide a framework for the method introduced in chapter two.24 For clarity, the
22 It should be noted that Solomon presents a rather difficult case at times, as will be discussed in chapter four. However, his actions in biblical, rabbinic, and extra-biblical sources serve to reinforce his status in this work.
23 Jesus is an incredibly complicated figure to analyze, due in part to the varying stories of his miracles and personality in the Gospels. Although we can know some things about the historical Jesus (he was a Jewish peasant, he was crucified by the Romans, his Gospel depiction fits the historical period when compared with other sources, etc.) it is impossible to truly determine the nature of the human figure outside of his biblical and literary depictions. As such, the notion of a “historical Jesus” will not be addressed in the current research. Instead, the author has decided to address specific interpretations of the New Testament Jesus for the sake of consistency. In order to recognize that the Gospel accounts present different portrayals of Jesus, each of which shades how the labels “magician” and “miracle-worker” operate, I have chosen to concentrate on two specific Gospels with similar narrative accounts.
24 Due to this research’s focus on expanding the methods available for the study of magic, the author feels it necessary to thoroughly analyze the authors whose works have shaped much of 11 thinkers examined are not writers from antiquity, but are rather modern experts on ancient religions. These authors represent some of the more prevalent modern views on ancient magic, and thus are more heavily involved in the contemporary problems this research aims to address. Each of these authors’ works provide some helpful criteria for analyzing the abstract category of magic, but ultimately are not self-sufficient in identifying what this category is.25
Each author will be dealt with in some level of depth, due to the overall focus on ancient civilizations in this work. Some will be dealt with more at length than others, but all will have their general arguments discussed in some form.
James Frazer
The first model we must examine would be the model of James Frazer, renowned anthropologist and author of The Golden Bough. Starting with Frazer will allow a more complete understanding of some of the authors written about later in this chapter, some of whom agree with Frazer’s points and others of whom are vehemently in opposition. Although it has fallen somewhat out of fashion, Frazer’s model has remained an influential one in many circles.26 While there is not adequate space in this work to examine Frazer’s model in depth, we
the current academic study of magic and its relation to religion. This analysis will serve as its own contribution to the field, summarizing the works of a number of scholars and using this prior academic work as the basis for a new method of identification. As such, this chapter will take up a substantial portion of the present research, contributing to the study of magic through both scholarly analysis and methodological contribution.
25 As will be addressed in chapter two, this research will seek to identify the practitioners, analyzing the phenomena itself by associating it with the practitioner who brings it about. 26 Some scholars, such as Fritz Graf, have openly critiqued Frazer’s work for numerous reasons, many of which will be addressed in the subsequent section on Graf. However, some modern occultists have found Frazer’s work to be highly inspirational. Foremost among these was Aleister Crowley, whose works were shaped greatly by The Golden Bough. For a more detailed 12 need to examine his analysis of how magic functions in comparison to religious practice.27 For
Frazer, the key distinction is the way in which the figure interacts with the deity or deities in question.
The basis of Frazer’s model is on what he refers to as “Sympathetic Magic,” which is composed of two branches.
Homeopathic magic is founded on the association of ideas by similarity: contagious magic is founded on the association of ideas by contiguity. Homeopathic magic commits the mistake of assuming that things which resemble each other are the same: contagious magic commits the mistake of assuming that things which have once been in contact are always in contact…. Both branches of magic… may conveniently be comprehended under the general name of Sympathetic magic, since both assume that things act on each other at a distance through a secret sympathy, the impulse being transmitted from one to the other by means of what we may conceive of as a kind of invisible ether....28
Magicians, for Frazer, are separated from true miracle workers by a combination of their views toward divine forces and their own superstitions that allow him to wield his power. “He supplicates no higher power: he sues the favour of no fickle and wayward being: he abases himself before no awful deity. Yet his power… is by no means arbitrary and unlimited. He can wield it only so long as he strictly conforms to the rules of his art, or to what may be called the laws of nature as conceived by him.”29 Frazer’s depiction of a magician is one who is ultimately
discussion on how Crowley’s work was shaped by Frazer, see Josephson-Storm, The Myth of Disenchantment, pg. 153-176.
27 It should be noted that a proper, in-depth examination of Frazer’s work could fill the length of this entire research. Frazer’s work has been edited and re-released in a number of editions and abridgments, with his third edition spanning twelve volumes on its own. 28 See James George Frazer, The Golden Bough, 2009, pg. 27.
29 See Frazer, The Golden Bough, pg. 45.
13 confined in their powers by their own mistaken views of the reality of the divine and natural worlds.
One of the more problematic views that Frazer pushed forward is his ideas on the efficacy of magic. For Frazer, no supernatural power can truly work unless gifted by God, and thus “… all magic is necessarily false and barren; for were it ever to become true and fruitful, it would no longer be magic but science…. [True sciences are called] the arts; the false are magic.”30 For
Frazer, the only acts that can be considered magic are ultimately ineffectual; thereby, any functional action constitutes a science or an art that is utterly divorced from magic.31 This, for obvious reasons, makes any identification of “magic” rather difficult, as any supernatural feat that occurs is, by definition, not magic. Additionally, Frazer’s approach ultimately favors the miracle-worker rather than the magician, and paints religious figures as a much more pious and humble figure.32
How, then, is it possible to separate religion from magic in Frazer’s method beyond efficacy? Ultimately this comes down to Frazer’s ideas of the practitioner’s attitude towards spirits. When addressing this distinction, Frazer states that,
By religion, then, I understand a propitiation or conciliation of powers superior to man which are believed to direct and control the course of nature and of
30 See Frazer, The Golden Bough, pg. 46.
31 A similar rhetoric appears in Deuteronomy 18: 9-22, where divination and sorcery are forbidden while prophecy was allowed. “False” prophecy, those not given by God, are ineffectual and will not come to pass. It is possible that Frazer took some inspiration from this section (as he does quote Deuteronomy 12 and 20 in other portions of The Golden Bough), but he did not directly credit Deuteronomy in the text. It remains, however, a similar method of separating magic and religion. 32 The errors of this will become clear as the research turns to Abusch, whose analysis of exorcists shows them less as humble servants than as agents of a centralized authority.
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human life. Thus defined, religion consists of two elements…a belief in powers higher than man and an attempt to propitiate or please them… It is true that magic often deals with spirits… but whenever it does so… it treats them exactly in the same fashion as it treats inanimate agents, that is, it constrains or coerces instead of conciliating or propitiating them as religion would do.33
Ultimately, then, Frazer’s views are based largely on an understanding of magic being wielded by those who use force against spirits, while religion would work humbly and beneficially with them. Frazer works very hard to portray users of magic as not only ineffectual, but also as arrogant and forceful throughout The Golden Bough. Due to the highly value-based nature of Frazer’s work, the current research will be seeking to avoid such definitions.
This view has had many proponents, but has also had its fair share of critics.34 Many of these critics, however, have produced outstanding works based (in whole or in part) on their disagreement with Frazer. Frazer’s work thus maintains an incredibly important role in the history of magical theory, influencing both advocates and detractors alike. One of Frazer’s outspoken critics, Fritz Graf, is who we must now turn our attention towards.
Fritz Graf
Fritz Graf, a professor of Classics at Princeton, intricately breaks down the details of Greco-
Roman magic within his work Magic in the Ancient World. His work is compelling, and addresses many of the problems with Frazer’s model while also giving a better grasp of the
33 See Frazer, The Golden Bough, pg. 46-48.
34 Aleister Crowley himself, as well as Eliphas Levi, were both inspired by Frazer’s ideas and reference it throughout their works. These works will be discussed further in the subsequent section on modern magic. 15 evolution and etymology of magic in all its various names. Graf’s work is extensive and was greatly influential in the formation of the current research.
Graf’s work extends across an incredibly broad body of knowledge, not all of which can be mentioned here due to its level of depth. However, one body of knowledge that Graf draws from, the Derveni Papyrus, deserves special attention. This papyrus, found near a gravesite, contains within it a fairly elaborate description of the workings of magicians (magoi or μαγοι in the text).
Not only does the unknown author connect the rites of the magi with those of the mystery cults… but also he introduces the magoi as invokers of infernal powers, daimones whom he understands as the souls of the dead; the disorder that they bring manifests itself in illness and madness, which are healed by rituals of exorcism.35
The rites of exorcism, the invocations of infernal powers, and the connection to mystery cults are all points that hold relevance to the current study. While the rites of exorcism and the invocation of infernal powers will be important when examining Jesus and Solomon respectively, the association with mystery cults, itself a religious institution, is deserving of some detail here.
Following the lead of the Derveni Papyrus, Graf associates the mystery cults of antiquity with magical practice, finding a strong link based in part on the similar initiation rituals between religious specialists and magicians.36 When looking at the similarities, between the two
35 See Fritz Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, 2003, pg. 23-24. It should be noted that exorcism remains a common theme within ancient magical practice. Yuval Harari, to be discussed later in this section, identifies exorcism as the original source of magical practice.
36 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 92
16 movements, Graf finds that “…there are at least three of them, I think: magic and mysteries involve secrecy, they seek direct contact with the divine, and they are reached by means of a complex ritual of initiation.”37 If, as Graf suggests, magical practice and the religious mysteries are interrelated, several questions arise. How, then, may we distinguish between magicians and those who are part of a religious (mystery cult) movement? Or, perhaps more pertinently, is there a significant enough difference to warrant distinguishing? It is here we begin to see some of the problems facing those who distinguish between magic and religion based upon the practices and rites involved. If these two are that similar, how can someone of modernity accurately assess these phenomena as magic or mysteries, as religious miracles or the workings of a magician?
Ultimately magicians were not distinguished from miracle-workers by their rituals, but rather “through the aim of his or her actions. The magician… usually pursues a more practical goal, and has a material need to satisfy – though… it is not entirely unheard of that a magician seeks only community with the gods as, on the other hand, theurgy could have its very utilitarian aims as well.”38 Graf, while presenting a distinction that could prove useful, ultimately acknowledges the problematic nature of such a distinction.39 If theurgy itself could
37 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 99. Graf’s assessment here works for the magic of antiquity quite well, at least within the Greco-Roman context. However, as will be seen in the work by Tzvi Abusch, not all cultures in antiquity practiced “secret” arts. For some cultures, like Mesopotamia, magic was publicly allowed (at least for a time) and had very few “secret” practices to it when compared to traditional religious practice. The nature of magic in Mesopotamia will be addressed in more depth in the subsequent section on Tzvi Abusch’s work. 38 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 100-101.
39 Graf’s views have been highly influential in the method proposed later in this research. Going back to the blacksmith analogy, Graf’s views fall in line with the idea that it is the intent and 17 have utilitarian aims, how is it in any way different from the material needs that the magician seeks to address? This problem will come up repeatedly throughout the course of this research, and is one of a number of reasons why a new method of identification is necessary. Moreover,
Graf’s work does provide what will become a common distinction between “theurgy” and
“magic.” This title of theurgy appears preemptively to disarm accusations of magic, a theme that will be addressed repeatedly in this research. For the moment, however, what is important to note is that the distinction hitherto made between magicians and miracle-workers
(theurgists, in this case) is one that is problematized even by those who draw such distinctions.
Another point of interest is Graf’s criticism of Frazer. Graf notes that many scholars hold an image of magicians that is based on a “primitive” archetype. Thus, when complex bodies of magical work emerged containing a heavily religious and spiritually focused content, it baffled them entirely.
For these scholars, it was inconceivable that magicians, deeply involved in a world of superstition and barbarism, were capable of conceiving documents that give such impressive evidence of a spiritualized religiosity. This attitude derives from the Frazerian dogma, according to which the magician is distinguished from the religious person by the lack of humble and disinterested submission to the divine will, and by the magician’s will to force and constrain divinity. This position still has its partisans.40
function of the craftsperson, not the craft itself, which is used to identify the phenomenon in question. The utilitarian nature of Graf’s identification is helpful in determining the nature of the individual, and will be drawn upon and modified for the sake of consistency. 40 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 215-216. Graf’s criticism of Frazer here, separating magician from religious practitioner by means of their lack of humility, is one of the issues this research seeks to remedy. Frazer’s ideology (or, at very least, the understanding of Frazerian dogma as it stands today) allows for accusations of arrogance to influence the research on an individual as religious or magical. This is not unique to Frazer, but his work does reinforce this viewpoint. As such, the current research has sought to heed Graf’s criticisms of Frazer and avoid humility or arrogance as indicative of religious vs. magical practice.
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According to Graf, Frazer has a rather prolific impact on scholars of magic, particularly when it comes to preconceptions about the nature of magical practitioners. This, Graf contends, is inaccurate, as “magicians had thought about ritual coercion and judged it a dangerous action; they always preferred to act without it.”41 It should be noted, however, that Graf does include coercion as belonging to the realm of magic, but determines that it is “only one element in a set of religious beliefs that range from the cruelest constraint to the most obsequious submission.”42 Thus we run into yet another dead end in identifying magic when it comes to
Frazer’s approach, as Graf accurately points out. However, this leaves us with a Frazerian approach filled with obvious holes, but without a substantial substitute, as Graf is quick to cite the problems of other scholar’s analyses but rather hesitant in offering up his own identification.
Graf, throughout his work, tackles the issues involving naming and labeling the magician as such, a topic that coincides with this project as well. He begins by helping to establish the magos (a person who uses mageia, or “magic”) within the context of the antique world.
The magos who is here lumped together with the faithful of various ecstatic cults… cannot be a sorcerer in the later current sense of the word, but rather one… whom the Derveni Papyrus defines as ‘a professional of rites’; if he is a ‘wanderer of the night,’ the reason is that he is the specialist of a whole series of private and secret rites.43
41 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 223. Graf here is referencing several sources from antiquity, including the Derveni Papyrus and the writings of Lucan. 42 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 225.
43 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 21.
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Graf goes on to establish that the magos was seen as a kind of expert of the same order as priests of private cults on the fringes of society, and could be equally reviled. “The beggar priest is opposed to the diviner, who has an official status in a polis; the magos comes close to the beggar.”44 In this sense, from Graf’s analysis, the practitioner of magic is identified largely based on their social status.
Graf cites three points of his findings about the term magos which are as follows:
1. “The religious facts designated by this set of expressions are not identical with what we designate by the name magic. They cover both private mystery cults… and divination and injurious (‘black’) magic. All these phenomena are alike in not belonging to the collective religion of the Greek polis.” 2. “All these practices could have negative connotations. The philosophers… despised magic and the rituals of itinerant initiators. However, there were rich people… who did have recourse to these practices in order to cope with critical situations… it was thus not a matter of contemptible religious behavior.”45 3. “In passing, it will have been noticed that the dichotomy between religion and magic, which is constitutive of the Frazerian approach, is already present in Heraclitus and in Plato… that magic forces the gods, whereas religion subjects itself to their power. Keith Thomas, in a rightly celebrated book, showed that the Frazerian categories had their roots in the English Protestantism of the seventeenth century; but we can already see that these notions were even more deeply rooted in our own spiritual heritage.”46
44 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 22. 45 This is not to say, however, that it was part of standard religious behavior either. As cited in the first of Graf’s points, the ancient Greeks used terms that included many groups outside of the established religious and political authority, and it was not seen as “contemptible” to pursue such avenues. However, it was seen as deviating from the collective religion. This issue bears noting for the current method and will be important when addressing authority in the next chapter and the subsequent case studies.
46 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 26-27.
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Using Graf’s model, magic is an autonomous domain within religious practice rather than an oppositional category to religion.47 The emergence of science, however, enhanced negative portrayals of magic. As opposed to being portrayed as outcasts or as receiving their power from dark forces, they are portrayed as ignorant charlatans who attempted to gain money by using spiritual practices like incantations and exorcism to “cure” the ill.48 The term magos, referring to a Persian priest, came to take on a derogatory meaning as a way of disparaging those itinerant priests who oppose doctors and philosophers. “We thus discern… the separation of an original unity – religion – into two opposing domains – magic and religion – where ‘magic,’… encompasses a whole series of noncivic religious forms…”49 Despite this association as somehow a “lesser” art, it was determined that, should natural medicine fail, magical arts could be applied as a kind of last resort. Whatever the general opinion on the morality, ethics, or social status of magic, it was believed to be effective.50 Magical medicine appropriated power from religio, which is less “religion” as we understand the modern concept than it is a kind of intense superstition or “excessive religiosity,” wherein one seeks divine or religious aid for things that could be solved pragmatically. Thus, magic could be seen as a kind of irrational and unconventional but nevertheless effective form of treatment.51 Furthermore, the general
47 It should be noted that this aligns well with the current research, which will be placing individuals somewhere within a “magico-religious spectrum.” This analysis will not be placing magic as a subset of religion, but will rather place magic and religion within the same domain of practice. This will be discussed further following the method summary in chapter two.
48 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 32. 49 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 34.
50 The efficacy of magic will be touched on more during the Naomi Janowitz segment.
51 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 50-51. 21 stigma of the magoi was, oddly enough, their incredible fascination with the divine, and the lack of balance that unfolds from it. “Religion is the happy medium, any lack of balance is viewed as magic.”52 Thus, “any abnormal interest in the sacred can lead to the suspicion of magic.”53
Graf’s research, while largely addressing the problems inherent to the study of magic, creates more questions than answers, and problematizes approaches while failing to offer alternative solutions. His work remains, however, a very powerful indicator of the study of magic as it now stands, and begins to bring up the problems that a method of identification must deal with. Emerging from this analysis with no clearer image of the “magician,” it is now time to turn to a scholar whose work directly addresses the social roles of magic within their cultural studies.
Tzvi Abusch
Tzvi Abusch has written extensively on the topics of Mesopotamian religion and magic. Of particular interest to the current research is Abusch’s work analyzing the ašipu (a
Mesopotamian exorcist) and the Mesopotamian figure of the witch. Abusch’s articles in the edited volumes Mesopotamian Witchcraft and Mesopotamian Magic will serve as the primary sources for this discussion. 54
52 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 87.
53 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 88. 54 Both books are edited in whole or in part by Tzvi Abusch.
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Abusch’s work addresses the differences between magical practitioners of Mesopotamia and the exorcists of the dominant religious authority. The ašipu of Mesopotamia saw themselves as being in service of a higher power and worked under the authority of the religious establishment of the time, much as the miracle-worker category this research will examine.55 Of more interest, perhaps, is the fact that the exorcist used many of the same methods as the witch. Nevertheless, “the exorcist regards himself as being in the service of the gods … (the exorcist) is a legitimate practitioner of magic… On a cosmic level, the main enemies of the exorcist are demons. On a human level, he contends with the witch or sorcerer.”56 This makes witches, by contrast, illegitimate practitioners of magic.57 Moreover, the witch (or sorcerer) is depicted as being directly opposed to the “legitimate” practitioner of magic, thus elevating the role of the exorcist while marginalizing the witch.
According to Abusch, witches typically were seen as antisocial, performing destructive magic and were typically positioned as the direct opponent of the exorcist. Despite this, Abusch
55 It should be noted that the ašipu falls in line with the miracle-worker of the current research due in part to their role as a learned temple authority. The ašipu holds a fairly high social status and boasts a large amount of education in comparison to the witch, and thus reinforces the “legitimate” nature of the temple.
56 See Tzvi Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft: Toward a History and Understanding of Babylonian Witchcraft Beliefs and Literature, 2002, pg. 6.
57 There could also be a connection between the increasingly important role of exorcists with the heightened powers of Marduk, whose role absorbed the other deity of exorcism (Assaluhi) along with a number of other deities over time. See Karl Van Der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. Van Der Horst, Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible, 1999, pg. 543-544. See also Dale Launderville, “The Threat of Syncretism to Ezekiel’s Exilic Audience in the Dry Bones Passage,” Die Welt des Orients, Bd. 45, H. 1, 2015, pg. 46-47.
23 continues, they ultimately were mirror images of each other in terms of practice.58 The exorcist and the witch performed many of the same functions and used similar methods, such as incantations. Thus, rather than a difference between the two being found in their line of work,
“the distinction between magic and religion may sometimes be best understood in terms of a distinction between popular and learned beliefs.”59 The witch, falling under the “popular beliefs” heading, was less problematic in Mesopotamian culture than in other cultures. Not only were they legally able to perform magic60, but they also served the needs of the common people that the exorcist could not attend to. However, whether due to the passage of time or the consolidation of the exorcist’s power, the witch was transformed into a force for evil, sometimes as a supernatural demonic threat, and at other times as a human who could overpower the gods themselves.61 Moreover, there are no references to female exorcists surviving in Mesopotamian literature, yet there were many representations of the female
58 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft: Toward a History and Understanding of Babylonian Witchcraft Beliefs and Literature, 2002, pg. 7-8.
59 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, pg. 3-4. Here again we see a comparison made between the “learned” beliefs and the beliefs of the general populace (including the witch.) The current research is aimed at separating the “learned” categorization of religious practice over magical practice. This is due in part to educational access in many time periods having a gender bias as well as an economic bias, favoring the elite males of a society over all others. As such, the author hopes to avoid these pitfalls and stereotypes (i.e., the “learned exorcist” opposing the “uneducated witch,”) by removing structured education as a criteria. Using the method in the current research, one could categorize an educated official or an uneducated peasant under the same category if their actions warranted it.
60 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, pg. 8.
61 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, pg.14.
24 witch.62 Abusch argues that this is the result of the exorcist’s power becoming institutionalized, at which point all of his negative traits “…were sloughed off and projected onto a human counterpart who was made into his opposite: whereas he is a male who is good and helps other humans, she is a female who is evil and harms other humans.”63 Thus, although witchcraft was originally outside the realm of the exorcist’s opponents, the centralization of the state, temple, and economy led to this forced dichotomy between the exorcist and the witch.64
Having summarized Abusch’s points, a few distinctions between these two figures become clear.65 First, the witch and the exorcist, despite having similar methods of ritual, are placed in direct opposition to each other based largely on gender.66 This in and of itself is problematic and is a criterion that the current research wishes to avoid. Second, the witch’s role was originally similar to the exorcist, but over time she became depicted as a source of supernatural evil. All the while, the ašipu became more institutionalized and powerful. The witch, then, represents a direct threat to the power of an existing system of authority. Lastly, the source of
62 Here again this could be due to scribal learning being a male dominated craft. As such the witch, a figure who was not educated by the temple authority, is most easily depicted as a female due to their mutual lack of access to education.
63 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, pg. 66.
64 See Tzvi Abusch, Mesopotamian Magic: Textual, Historical, and Interpretive Perspectives, 2000, pg. 84. Here again it is important to note that the magical arts practiced by the ašipu were part of an established curriculum by the religious institutions of the era while the witch practiced those activities that fell outside of temple authority. 65 Two figures which parallel quite strongly the current research’s categories of miracle-worker and magician.
66 This could be due in part to the cultural and institutional access to education, which was available to men but not women. As such it may be that the gender bias was due in part to education rather than explicitly being due to a gender binary, but it is still an approach the author wishes to avoid. 25 the exorcist’s growing power was due to the centralization of power in the cult and the exorcist’s role as a learned individual within the cult is what made him a “legitimate” practitioner. This power is, moreover, granted by the same authority that denied the witch her role in the community. Though this is a topic that could be dealt with in much depth, it is first necessary to examine the work of another scholar of antique magic.
Gideon Bohak
Gideon Bohak, professor of Jewish Philosophy and Talmud at Tel Aviv University, examines a vast array of Jewish and Greco-Egyptian magical forms in his work Ancient Jewish Magic: A
History. Unfortunately, Bohak falls in line with Graf in terms of avoiding a true definition or identification of magic. However, Bohak does provide a substantial body of information from which to proceed, and his scholarship will coincide well with Yuval Harari’s research later in this chapter. Though Bohak covers a number of rituals, ideas, and formulas that might be of interest, there are a few key points that are important for the incorporation of Bohak’s work into the current research. These deal largely with debunking scholarly myths regarding the ritual practice of magic, separating what is “magic” from what is the domain of a miracle- worker.
One of Bohak’s primary concerns is disproving some of the more problematic assumptions made by scholars in regards to magic. One of the foremost of these has to do with the idea that
“magic” is not so much an actual set of beliefs or practices, but rather “… a personal accusation or a pejorative label affixed to other people’s religions.”67 As Bohak’s argument proceeds, there
67 See Gideon Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic: A History, 2008, pg. 61. 26 were indeed those who claimed the status of “holy man,” while other practitioners seemed to have no problem practicing a less religious form of supernatural working that we would now call “magic.” However, these phenomena would not have been called as such at the time, and therefore identifying it from an ancient perspective becomes incredibly difficult.
Another prevalent scholarly myth Bohak addresses is that magicians of antiquity required an exact and accurate magical recipe in order to make their rituals effective. If this were the case, it would be assumed that any copies of magical texts would have a focus on accurate replication of each ritual formula. This is, however, not the case, as when turning from magical theory to magic in its practical application “we cannot help noting that while careful and accurate copying… is not unattested, the processes of textual entropy and deliberate adaptations is far more common.”68 This is an important point, as the ability to transform and innovate a ritual will become a hallmark of the magician in this method of identification.69
Looking further into the practices of the magician of antiquity, Bohak notes several distinctions between those who practice magic and the self-proclaimed “holy men.”
Unlike the holy men, who would often describe themselves… as on a mission from God, the magicians would usually make no claims of an ulterior mission behind their praxis. And unlike the holy men…the magicians responded to more of their clients’ needs, and especially their personal needs… The biggest difference between the Jewish holy men and the magicians seems to have been that the former relied on their own innate powers… to perform their miraculous deeds. The magicians, on the other hand, relied on an acquired body of technical
68 See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 147. This topic falls in line well with the subject of ritual autonomy, which will be discussed further in chapter 2.
69 This is not to say, however, that all changes to ritual are by necessity a form of magical practice. For more on ritual innovation within religious traditions, see Liane Marquis Feldman, “Ritual Sequence and Narrative Constraints in Leviticus 9:1-10:3”, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, Vol. 17, Article 12, 2017.
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knowledge… and often also on specifically magical implements, materials, words, and symbols, to perform their own miracles.70
Bohak’s distinction, then, has to do primarily with the methods applied to perform their work. Holy men have some form of innate power that allows them to heal and perform supernatural feats, while magicians require a gathered body of knowledge.71 This presents problems, particularly when examining some prophets and their works. In such an example,
Bohak cites Moses, and (using a rabbinic defense), addresses Moses’ status by pointing out “… that Moses did not invent his own laws, but received them directly from God… and that the miracles performed by Moses were far greater than those performed by Pharaoh’s Egyptian magicians, which proves their divine origins, and disproves the charge of magic.”72 Here we have a rather interesting set of refutations by the Rabbis and Bohak, and one that merits further analysis. First, and most importantly, Moses is considered legitimate because he receives laws from God rather than creating his own. This will fall in line with the current work’s discussions of both agency and autonomy, to be discussed in chapter 2. As to the second point
Bohak addresses, it appears that the efficacy of the supernatural feat is used to dismiss accusations of magic on the part of Moses. This seems, much as was mentioned about theurgy in the discussion on Graf’s work, to be a rather convenient way of preemptively disarming any accusations of magic hurled at the major figures of a religious tradition. How, then, can any act
70 See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 27.
71 Here again there is a focus on the tools and education received by the individuals for the purposes of their craft, leaving out much of the examination of the goals and intent of the practitioners themselves.
72 See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 85.
28 be referred to as magic, so long as it was deemed more effective? This seems to fall in line with discussions of Frazer regarding effective magic being no magic at all, but rather a “science” or an “art,” though these terms seem to have little separate meaning beyond dismissing charges of magic. As will be discussed when examining the works of Naomi Janowitz, there wasn’t a question in the minds of ancient thinkers as to the efficacy of magic; rather, there was a question of intent. This model of defending supernatural feats based on their religious affiliation ultimately leads to a bias towards established religious authority, classifying what they wish to as “magic” while retaining their own status as “religion.” However, the nature of
“religious miracles” could often cross over the boundaries of what many would consider to be black magic, such as curses.73 Bohak points out this overlap, mentioning that “…the curses of disgruntled priests can be extremely powerful, for they enjoy a certain proximity with a powerful deity.”74
Bohak, much as Graf, has left just as many questions as answers. First, if magicians require a body of technical knowledge, then how is one to defend the category of “legitimate” holy men who require extensive education to perform the rituals of their craft? Are these two figures not both required to obtain a body of knowledge before practicing their art? Secondly, if there is such an overlap in ability, can one truly distinguish between the two?75 A third, and perhaps
73 Jesus himself cursed a fig tree in Mark 11.
74 See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 129.
75Here again the blacksmith analogy may be brought to the fore. If two blacksmiths were to perform their craft and make a blade, they would not produce the same result. While both may create something that could be called a sword, for instance, the differences in the appearance and function of these swords would be different. Perhaps one blacksmith was taught how to make curved swords, while the other blacksmith had been trained to create double-edged 29 more implicit, question that arises is how one should distinguish between “scholarly myth” and historical fact. These problems, while not all solvable, aggravate the already difficult problem of identifying magic. Once again, looking at the phenomena of “magic” seems to yield varied, if any, results. Before determining a solution, it is necessary to examine a few more thinkers, including one more who focuses on the Jewish magic of antiquity.
Yuval Harari
Yuval Harari, one of the primary influences on this thesis, is a lecturer at the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem in the department of History. One of Harari’s more recent works on the topic, Jewish Magic Before the Rise of Kabbalah, acknowledges the difficulty of defining the term “magic,” and details the rather problematic nature of the category itself. Harari’s work, while not the sole inspiration for the current research, has been highly influential in the development of the techniques discussed in chapter two, and thus requires an in-depth discussion.
One of the first points that Yuval Harari addresses is, in fact, one of the primary concerns of the current research: the problems of defining magic.
A definition of magic in general, as a kind of phenomenon, emerges as a task no less difficult and perhaps even more complicated than its detailed description…. The border of acts and beliefs called magical and the distinction between them and other acts and beliefs, particularly those included in the category of beliefs and acts called religious, are not at all clear. Determining a sound set of short swords. Moreover, the materials used and accessible to each blacksmith could differ, as well as the heat of their forge and the strength of their arms. All of these factors would combine to create different results, but would not undermine the individual’s categorization as a blacksmith. In a similar manner magicians and miracle-workers could often achieve the same results or even have similar practices, but the ritual process or final product may appear different due to their respective experience. 30
phenomenological criteria that will allow the classification of ritual phenomena as magical or religious emerges as an almost impossible or even insurmountable task.76
Harari here influences this work greatly, as will be seen in later sections. It is, indeed, incredibly difficult (if not impossible) to identify the abstract categories of “magic” and
“religion” apart from detailed, culturally-specific definitions. What’s more, these definitions often do not neatly fit into the cultures they were designed for in the first place.
Harari does not, however, allow this to stop him from attempting to identify this phenomenon.77 Attempting to approach the identification of magic by finding a “source,”
Harari quickly locates what he determines as foundational magical practice.
“The source of magic is the belief that physical and spiritual problems result from a spirit settling in a person’s body and from the conclusion warranted by this belief – the remedy is to cast it out. Basic magic practice, then, is exorcising spirits… Magic thus developed from rituals of exorcism to the use of spirits to expel other spirits… magic developed into a general phenomenon of taking over spirits and using them for various human needs. Religion, according to this method, was merely one logical step further: Humans came to believe that it was preferable to replace the recurrent process of taking over spirits with a permanent positive connection with them.”78
76 See Yuval Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, 2017, pg. 3-4.
77 In a similar fashion, the author of this research will be attempting to more concisely and accurately identify figures based on their actions. However, it bears noting that the method proposed herein is meant to create a more utilitarian method of categorization, not the final word on all figures within the realm of “magic” or “religion.” This is rather intended as a stepping stone to a more consistent method of identification that scholars may use to analyze and compare their subjects of interest. Cultural expertise will still be required for understanding how the roles of “magic” or “religion” function within a given society, including the rituals and tools most commonly used within a given culture, but the overall identification of the figures in question will be driven less on culture and more on their intents and goals.
78 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 20.
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If Harari’s statement is taken to be true, this presents an incredibly complex problem. If religion is a logical step further from magic, does that mean that “magic” is merely “pre- religion”? If this is so, then how do accusations of magic remain after religion (a rather abstract category itself) becomes a regular part of daily life in a culture? Harari’s work highlights several problems for those seeking to classify “magic” or “religion.” First, there is the issue of potential bias; if religion exists as a step beyond magic, then does magic truly hold any power? Could
“magic” merely be used as a pejorative label for those groups who are “less civilized” or “less advanced” in the eyes of the culture under examination?79 Secondly, if magic is merely developed from the rites of exorcism, then does this make exorcism itself innately magical? If that is the case, do all exorcists then fall under the category of “magician”? Third, the assumption is made that religion represents a “permanent positive connection” with spirits.
While this may hold true for some western traditions, does this mean that religion itself must involve a connection to spirits? Or is this merely a western religious phenomenon? These are just a few of the questions that arise from such an analysis, and would need to be addressed quite thoroughly if one were to discuss magic from a phenomenological standpoint.
Some of Harari’s points are similar to Tzvi Abusch’s analysis of Mesopotamian exorcists and witches, placing the wielder of magic and the purveyor of miracles as distinct based on their motivational differences. In particular, both the healer-sorcerer and the priest turned to supernatural powers in the course of their work, but both approached these deities differently.
“The sorcerer approaches them pugnaciously and belligerently, whereas the priest does so
79 This itself is a major problem with the Frazerian model as well. 32 sympathetically and amicably.”80 Harari here, in addition to echoing some of Abusch’s work, clings to much of the same dogma as Frazer, with sorcerers being arrogant figures who force their will upon spirits. Priests, by contrast, are innately kinder and softer in depiction, befriending rather than forcing the spirits. While this could be seen as a good model, one which has a very outspoken defender in Frazer, it remains problematic. Basing the classification of
“magic” on the arrogance of the individual ultimately favors the “theurgic” establishment over magical practice, placing the “humble” servants of the authoritative religion in a position free from accusations of magic. Moreover, religion becomes a communal force, while magical practitioners serve more individualistic needs. “Religious beliefs… define the community’s unity and create a sense of participation among its members when they translate these into a shared ritual. Magic, by contrast, is personal by its very essence and is therefore realized individually.”81 This method of distinction turns much of private practice into works of sorcery, while communal religion is exempt from such accusation.
A sense of unity was important, but what was more important was perhaps the “validity” of the perceived practice. This, in large part, had to do with the relationship of the group or practice in question in relation to legal authority. “Religion was allowed and magic was, by definition, forbidden, so the allowed ritual was religion and the forbidden one was magic… A cult performed outside this mechanism of authority was magic.”82 Taken another way, all those
80 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 21.
81 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 34.
82 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 76.
33 who practice outside the realm of public authority, be it a personal ritual towards a deity or a service for another individual, would thereby constitute magic under this purview. This once again places the label of “magic” on those who fall outside existing religious authority. This does not mean, however, that I accept the idea that the individual practitioner or “religious other” is automatically a magician. Rather, this outsider status was often assumed of the magician by those in power. In Rome, where an accusation of sorcery was symbolically used to express a fear of outside practice, found that such an accusation “[was] an effective legal tool for contending with it. The difference between magic and religion was thus a matter of title, though highly significant politically, legally, and economically.”83
One of the primary problems with relying on the views of magic stated by ancient thinkers is the very loose boundaries they would place around their own actions. In particular, the rabbis were cited as performing magical deeds throughout much of the work Harari addresses, but ultimately are labeled as acceptable due to their use in religious practice. This is due to the fact that, for rabbinic thinkers at least, “magic and religion are incompatible. Religion either repels magic or incorporates it while purifying it from its basic essence.”84 This view exempts any action taken by the religious authority (in this case the rabbis) from being labeled as magic
(which the rabbis label as the “ways of the Amorites”) since it falls under the realm of
“religion.”85 Once again there emerges a pattern of the magician as an outsider to the religious
83 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 78. 84 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 93.
85 Harari points out that miracles, themselves an aspect of religion, were ultimately expressions of the omnipotence of God, while magic remained the realm of human action. However, there were enough similarities in execution that the rabbis feared the populace would begin to blur the distinction between “magic” and “miracle,” possibly leading to the need for such religious 34 tradition. Those who could be labeled as magicians within an accepted religious tradition are safely placed under the blanket category of “religious authority,” what this research will refer to as a miracle-worker.
The rhetoric of the religious establishment ultimately leads, as may be expected, to a rather self-serving view that excludes and alienates magic based on its threat to religious authority.
However, far from discrediting the efficacy of magic (as Frazer is wont to do), “… the religious establishment acknowledges the sorcerer’s power and fears the threat entailed by his activity.... It therefore uses its authority to push sorcerers and their actions beyond the pale of the social norm.”86 This presentation of the religious “other” has already been commented upon, but it bears noting that this process remains a consistent feature of religious authority.
This could be due in part to the similarity between what religious officials and miracle-workers do in the performance of their role, and the potential threat of outside individuals disrupting the power held within the religious system. The distinctions, then, become very important for religious authorities of antiquity, as the saint and sorcerer are examined on both external and internal levels. “Even though externally they do not appear to differ, from an inside perspective they are sharply distinct, and the demarcation between them rests on the person’s place in the social-political order of the community.”87
exemptions as the rabbis seemed to enjoy. See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 89
86 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 97 87 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 95.
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Jewish leaders had a good reason for trying to distinguish their own practices from magic, however. As discussed previously, exorcism was itself considered a form of magical practice.
Jewish communities in particular were noted for their talents at exorcism, and were thus considered “skilled sorcerers” within their foreign surroundings. Rabbinic authorities were quick to point out, however, that this was likely due to “the tendency to ascribe witchcraft to marginalized social groups, thereby conveying the suspicions and anxieties about them.”88
Jewish authorities were quick to deflect these accusations using the religious authority of the rabbis as their justification. Had a common citizen performed these feats they may have indeed constituted magic, but “(because) rabbis performed this ritual, not only is this act not one of forbidden sorcery… it is also categorically permitted ab initio under the rubric of sorcery laws.
Indeed, the act is even desirable as a sign of ritual power derived from the proper religious norm, in which the rabbis are experienced.”89 Once again Harari shows how religious figures, particularly those with religious authority, are ultimately excused from any accusation of magic.
Moreover, they are even looked at as being better religious authorities for having performed such feats! Such examples are evidence of why the antique (and much of the modern) methods of identifying “magic” while separating it from “religion” are problematic at best, potentially violent at worst. For antique Jewish communities, ultimately the terms, “magic, sorcerer, and sorceries [were] rhetorical… [and] served for the hostile labeling of the ‘other’... [and so] rabbis were from the outset excluded from this realm by definition.”90
88 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 146.
89 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 356. 90 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 374.
36
This same tendency of ascribing witchcraft to marginalized groups was applied both by
Jewish communities and other religious authorities to women, a tendency which should come as no surprise in light of the other research herein examined. For Jewish authorities (as well as many other religious authorities of antiquity), women were “perceived as liminal, as social margins posing a definite threat to the male center. Supernatural female power, therefore, is not merely a sin. Men view such power as a genuine threat and hence as intolerable.”91 This muddy area of identification thus leads to a tendency for “insiders” of a religious or civic establishment to hurl potentially fatal accusations of witchcraft and magic upon those who represent a deviance from the social norm. This is made more effective by the blurred lines between “magic” and “miracle,” allowing a group to persecute those it perceives as a threat while often performing many of the same practices.
Harari, in addition to addressing many pertinent issues, notably pushes back against another thinker mentioned within this research, namely Fritz Graf. Highlighting Graf’s theory that “magic” could be labeled in the same sense that thinkers of antiquity gave it, Harari claims that any such notion “is an illusion. Not even the ancients themselves could do this. The term magic did not exist in their vocabulary.”92 If, as Harari suggests, “magic” is a term unbeknownst to antiquity, then why is there such a drive to define what is “ancient magic”? Harari also notes
91 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 99.
92 This is not to say that there were no terms used to define practitioners of magical arts, but rather that the terms used in antiquity did not refer to “magic” itself but rather to specific members of communities. Thus any terms from antiquity, when put into use in modernity, “bear a semantic baggage given to them in our culture. Without knowing of this baggage, these terms cannot be used in day-to-day speech or to describe magic in the ancient world.” See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 162.
37 that the term itself generally used as an abstraction, stating that the “perplexity and uncertainty entailed by the use of the term magic are well understood. Like many other terms in our language, such as love, happiness, art, ritual, religion, and game, it covers a wide range of phenomena and the borders of its applicability are blurred.”93
Having addressed Harari’s work, and having gotten no closer to a definite category of magic, it is necessary to examine another scholar of ancient magic in an attempt to arrive at more definitive criteria for establishing our method of identification.94
Naomi Janowitz
Naomi Janowitz, a professor of Religious Studies at the University of California-Davis, provides an incredibly thorough analysis on Roman magic. Although Janowitz proposes no solid model for the analysis of magic, her works Icons of Power and Magic in the Roman World help to flesh out the overall conception of magic in the antique period.
Janowitz, much as the other thinkers examined above, addresses the politics involved in the term “magic” and its uses.
In late antiquity, the word ‘magic’… was widely used in intergroup and intragroup polemics…. To be accused of practicing magic had all the drama of modern charges of high treason and could have lethal results. Much of this charge and countercharge can be correctly characterized as “your ritual is magic,
93 See Harari, Jewish Magic before the Rise of Kabbalah, pg. 167.
94 It is necessary to reiterate here creating a more identifiable category is necessary in the modern academic field due to the entrenched nature of the terms “magic” and “religion.” These terms, and the generations of debate involving them, are too prominent to dismiss yet too vague to solidly identify. The method proposed herein seeks to create more definite criteria for identification while simultaneously acknowledging that both magical and religious phenomena occur on a spectrum. It is the author’s hope that such criteria will help to work towards a consistent and cohesive understanding of these abstract categories. 38
mine is religion… The most important point that needs to be made here has to do with efficacy: magic was believed to be effective…95
This is consistent with what we have seen from Graf, Abusch, and Bohak. It should be noted here that Janowitz subscribes to the same “scholarly myth” that Bohak sought to address, claiming the use of the term magic as an identifier of the “religious other.” More importantly, however, Janowitz identifies that the ancients truly believed that magic was effective.
Regardless of whether, as Frazer concluded, magic was ultimately ineffectual, ancient people believed in its efficacy enough to continue practicing it and seeking out magical services for their respective problems.
Despite the fact that it was seen as effective, magic was still viewed as a form of slander compared to the “rightful” authority of the divine. “It is clear that… theurgic rituals are not compulsive or manipulative magic, but represent the best of traditional ritual practices….
Theurgic power is the opposite of ‘magic’ because it is divine.”96 While theurgy may be considered effective, the problem arises when classifying it as directly opposed to magic because its heritage is “divine.” This approach yields several problems. First and foremost, any claim of magic could be theoretically disputed by connecting it to a divine heritage. After all,
Christian saints were eventually sought after as magical helpers by those who considered themselves magicians before being considered “Christian.”97 If divine heritage is the only requirement to be dissociated from accusations of magic, all one would need to do is find a
95 See Naomi Janowitz, Icons of Power, 2012, pg. 1-3
96 See Janowitz, Icons of Power, pg. 12-13.
97 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 117
39 religious connection to the art. Secondly, this logic seems to fall in line with much of Abusch’s research on ašipu and witches. As seen in those examples, this line of thinking can easily lead to power consolidation by a central religious authority, allowing for “legitimate” and “illegitimate” practitioners of magic.98
This legitimacy issue is, in a similar fashion to Mesopotamian tradition, largely played out along a gender binary. While holy men may have been looked at as righteous bringers of miracles in the Bible,
…the prime model for witchcraft is the female practitioner in Exodus 22:18. In other instances the charges of witchcraft is combined with charges of prostitution and illicit sexuality, reinforcing the suspicion of magic with general fear of female sexuality. Prophetic texts associate harlotry and magical charms (Nah 3:4) while historical texts denounce women as harlots who engage in sorcery (Jezebel in 2 Kings 9:22). 99
This dividing line, one that is frequently shown throughout the study of magic, is a consistent problem when examining magical practice through the eyes of religious authorities.
This was seen in Abusch’s analysis on exorcists and witches in Mesopotamian culture, and can even to some extent be seen in Frazer’s analysis on the inefficacy of magic. Arriving at a hard and fast definition, then, is an incredibly complex (if not impossible) task.
98 This became particularly problematic in cultures such as Mesopotamia, wherein there were gendered distinctions between practitioners, with the “legitimate” authority given to male religious figures. See Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, pg. 66
99 See Naomi Janowitz, Magic in the Roman World, 2001, pg. 87. Men asserting their station as God’s messenger, such as the exorcists of Mesopotamia, were often excused of accusations of witchcraft. This also extended into the roles of prophets in ancient Judaism, despite being seen performing similar feats to their magical counterparts. For more on the role of prophets in ancient Judaism, see Shawna Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t: Biblical Perspectives on the Relationship Between Magic and Religion, 2008, pg. 56-75.
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Janowitz points out one last problem in the identification of magic: the performance of rituals that are simultaneously performed by both magicians and miracle-workers. Both perform similar rites to the extent that it becomes difficult to label one as “magic” while leaving the other untouched in the realm of “theurgy.” 100 Janowitz laments this, stating that “If we can no longer equate a certain set of rituals with magic, it simultaneously becomes harder to separate out the normative from the heretical.”101 Janowitz further reasserts that authorities cannot engage in magic, but could still perform such actions as supernatural healing, cursing, blessing, and manipulation of angels. This line is very clearly blurred in favor of the normative religious authorities. How, then, can one distinguish between a “magician” and a “miracle- worker” (or other religious authority) when any normative authority may excuse its actions as
“religious”? And if one must try to reconcile what seems “heretical” from the normative religion, how can one distinguish magic other than placing it (as has been contested by Bohak) within the realm of external religious tradition?
Janowitz, while incredibly helpful in fleshing out early ritual and thoughts on its efficacy, does little to provide us with a true definition or distinction between magic and religion. As such, her analysis is included primarily to reinforce both the prevalence with which magic was practiced as well as its apparent efficacy. Janowitz helps us to establish further Graf’s, Harari’s, and Abusch’s assertions that magic was a widely-spread and believed phenomena, though its relationship with “theurgy” remains a problematic situation to address. Having thoroughly
100 This is very similar to the exemptions provided by rabbinic texts on healing, which by its nature is divorced from the “Way of the Amorites.” See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 364- 388.
101 See Janowitz, Magic in the Roman World, pg. 99. 41 examined a number of scholars who focus on antiquity, it is time to turn to more contemporary thoughts on magic, addressing how they changed public perception on the concept of magic.
Their actions have led to a present need for scholarly clarity in this otherwise ambiguous category of “magic.”
Modern Magic
This section will address the works of Eliphas Levi and Aleister Crowley, two magical thinkers and practitioners who helped revolutionize the field of modern magic, as well as the work of Nevill Drury, who examines these phenomena but does so more as a history than as a theorist. The author has elected to highlight Levi and Crowley due to their influence on modern practitioners of magic, ranging from Wiccans to Thelemists and Satanists, as well as to highlight the ways in which magic has been adopted and evolved as a practice from ancient times to modernity. As practitioners Levi and Crowley both have an explicit bias on the topics of "magic” and “religion,” yet their views which they address are in some ways more relevant to modern magical thought and practice than the ancient ideas they draw from. As such, their role in this chapter is to show how the conceptions of magic have changed over the course of history, and to show the need for modern scholars to understand magic from both and academic and social perspective.102 This section will also provide an overview of modern magical thought in order to
102 It should be noted that these thinkers, Crowley in particular, have also contributed towards the method proposed by the current research. While the definitions of magic that Levi and Crowley push are not rigidly subscribed to by the author, their influence is nevertheless strongly present in the research, particularly when divorcing discussions of morality of the analysis of magic.
42 contrast the ways in which these differ from the perspectives on ancient magic. As this is primarily meant to showcase how broad the study of “magic” can be, and, as a contrast to theorists of ancient magic, these views will be presented in a more cursory manner than the thinkers of ancient magic.
Eliphas Levi
Eliphas Levi (1810-1875) places magic within a greater religious framework, referring to the source of magic as the “Astral Light.” Levi’s views and influence would be greatly felt among the next generation of occultists, particularly Aleister Crowley, who saw himself as a reincarnation of Eliphas Levi.103 Levi’s work, The History of Magic, straddles a large swathe of topics, from religion and magic to science, nature, philosophy, and (of course) history. While Levi’s interests may be varied, his ability to create a cohesive narrative with such diverse topics is nothing short of eloquent, and deserves note for its literary value alone.
According to Levi, “Magic… is the exact and absolute science of Nature and her laws. Magic, therefore, combines in a single science that which is most certain in philosophy, which is external and infallible in religion.”104 This absolute science, as Levi refers to it, is responsible for a number of positive and negative effects. Ultimately, however, this is due to what Levi refers to as the “Astral Light,” a rather vaguely defined term that Levi uses interchangeably with both
God and with magic. Levi, unlike Crowley, also separates the use of magic (and thereby the
103 See Aleister Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, 2019, pg.61-64.
104 See Eliphas Levi, The History of Magic: Including a Clear and Precise Exposition of its Procedure, its Rites, and its Mysteries, 2012, pg. 29.
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Astral Light) into the traditional “black magic” and “white magic” categories, and even gives a rather detailed description of the former.
Black magic may be defined as the art of inducing artificial mania in ourselves and in others; but it is also and above all the science of poisoning… it is possible to destroy life by the sudden congestion or withdrawal of the Astral Light. This may take place when… our nervous system… has become a kind of living galvanic pile, capable of condensing and projecting powerfully that light which intoxicates or destroys.105
For Levi, then, the art of black magic channels the Astral light for destructive ends.106 This in some ways leads us back to the views that Abusch addressed regarding Mesopotamian witches.
Levi also follows a similar pattern to Mesopotamia regarding the practice of magic: women, by something of their nature, are more likely to participate in sorcery. For Levi, excessive passion is a form of madness, which in itself is brought on by witchcraft. Thus, Levi reasons,
“Women are superior to men in sorcery because they are more easily transported by excess of passion…. Such is the woman who has sought to rise beyond the duties of her sex by familiarity with forbidden sciences…. She is devoid of reason, devoid of true love, and the stratagems of Nature in revolt against her are the ever renewing torment of her pride.”107
Once again there emerges a pattern of equating femininity with witchcraft, and equating the practitioner of magic with pride. Levi, despite praising magic at the beginning of his work, comes to the conclusion that women who practice magic are inherently evil, repugnant, and ultimately condemned for their practice.
105 See Levi, The History of Magic, pg. 77.
106 Levi was not the first person to divide magic up into these categories. Ancient Mesopotamia actually had separate categories of magic for an incredibly similar reason. See J.A. Scurlock, The Anchor Bible Dictionary Volume 4: K-N, 1992, pg. 465.
107 See Levi, The History of Magic, pg. 90-91.
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Another familiar point lies in Levi’s assessment of Moses. Contrary to the depictions of witches, Moses is excused wholeheartedly, with Levi actively working to excuse the works of
Moses as miracles, not magic. When addressing the confrontation between Moses and the magicians of Egypt, Levi states that “The instrument which they used was therefore the same; the inspiration alone differed; when they confessed themselves conquered, they proclaimed that, for them, human powers had reached their limit, and that there must be something superhuman in Moses.”108 This “superhuman” aspect of Moses, which Levi goes on to assure the reader is entirely divorced from magic, bears even further explanation as the work goes on.
Levi assures the reader that he is “…by no means suggesting that the miracles of this man of
God are referable to Magic; but we know on the authority of the Bible that…the magicians of
Pharaoh and consequently grand hierophants of Egypt, began by performing in virtue of their art wonders which were similar to those of Moses.”109 Thus Levi concedes that the magicians used a similar framework, but assures the reader that Moses is immune to this charge; Moses is a possessor of supernatural power granted him by God, and thereby above such “human” acts as magic.110 However, Levi never provides a definite reason as to why Moses is a special case, other than the authority of the Bible and the idea that Moses is a servant of God. These issues,
108 See Levi, The History of Magic, pg. 40. The story of Moses and the Magicians of Egypt will be dealt with in more depth in chapter three.
109 See Levi, The History of Magic, pg. 84.
110 Herein Levi, intentionally or unintentionally, reinforces the authority of the Bible as an authoritative text on the rituals and events depicted therein. The Bible is taken to be a de facto authority, and little other evidence is offered to retain Moses’ immunity to charges of magic.
45 among others, will be a large focus of the case study, and are of particular interest when examining the agency and autonomy of Moses himself.
Aleister Crowley
Aleister Crowley (1875-1947), an English occultist, has had a profound impact on modern views of magical practice. Many branches of modern neo-paganism draw from Crowley’s work, including Satanism, Thelema, and some aspects of Wicca.111 Crowley’s distaste for Christian traditions was quite explicit, and many even described him as “the Beast.”112
Given Crowley’s background and overall demeanor, it may come as a surprise that there is a distinctly religious tone to his commentary on magick.113 Nevertheless, Crowley identifies the primary objective of all magical rituals as “…the uniting of the Microcosm with the Macrocosm.
The Supreme and Complete Ritual is therefore the Invocation of the Holy Guardian Angel; or, in the language of Mysticism, Union with God.”114 This mystical union validates the practice of magick (at least in Crowley’s eyes) as a part or subset of religious tradition. Much as Graf discusses ancient magicians working to summon a supernatural helper, Crowley believes that the magician “…applies himself to invoke a God, and this God compels the appearance of a
111 For a more thorough analysis of the life of Crowley, including his view of himself as both a reincarnation of Eliphas Levi and as the “Great Beast 666,” see Nevill Drury, Stealing Fire from Heaven: The Rise of Modern Western Magic, 2011, pg. 77-125.
112 See Drury, Stealing Fire from Heaven, pg. 78.
113 In the interest of staying true to the source material, discussions of Crowley’s views will use his spelling of “magick” rather than the standard “magic.”
114 See Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, pg. 13.
46 spirit whose function is to perform the Will of the magician at the moment.”115 This spirit then functions as the supernatural helper necessary to complete the ritual, allowing magick to function. Crowley’s views on the ultimate form and function of a magician, then, is far more religious than what many ancient thinkers may have once viewed it.
In a similar fashion, Crowley’s views on what constitutes magick itself is rather broad to say the least. Crowley’s perspective on a “magical operation” is that it “…may be defined as any event in nature which is brought to pass by Will. We must not exclude potato-growing or banking from our definition.”116 The use of Will (capitalized in Crowley’s writings) comes to be the central point of his magical practice. This practice, as may be surmised from the previous quote, could constitute any action that one’s true Will brought to pass. Throughout his work,
Crowley cites a number of different activities as magic, from career work to basic daily hygiene.
It mattered not what the action was, merely that it was brought about by their true inner self.
“Crowley understood that one should live according to the dictates of one’s true Will because
‘A man who is doing his True Will has… the Universe to assist him.’ An individual’s True Will is that person’s authentic spiritual purpose, and it also confers a sense of identity.”117 Thus
Crowley paints with very broad strokes, allowing most any action to be considered magic as long as it coincides with one’s truest inner desires and Will. As doubtlessly could be imagined,
115 See Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, pg. 131.
116 See Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, pg. 130.
117 See Drury, Stealing Fire From Heaven, pg. 86.
47 this leads to just as much of a problem in defining the role of the magician as did the more limiting views of antiquity.
The chief problem with Crowley’s perspective is that it becomes nearly impossible to separate any act from magic. This could be due in part to the very subjective nature of
Crowley’s take on magical theory, which accepts a view of an objective reality, but ultimately denies our ability to comprehend it. “All perceptions are neither the observer nor the observed; they are representations of the relation between them. We cannot affirm any quality in an object as being independent of our sensorium, or as being in itself that which it seems to us.”118
Due to our role as sensory beings, it is literally impossible in Crowley’s eyes to separate material object from our perceptions and define its qualities. In essence, we are limited by our perceptions, and thus unable to define anything outside of how we ourselves see it. In one example of such an instance, Crowley cites one of the sacraments of Catholicism as a prime example of Magick, despite Catholic objections to the contrary. “One of the simplest and most complete of Magick ceremonies is the Eucharist. It consists of taking common things, transmuting them into things divine, and consuming them.”119 Consumption, it is worth noting, would ultimately become a very important concept for Crowley. He even incorporated his own
118 See Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, pg. 133.
119 It bears noting that Crowley’s depiction of the Eucharist is over-simplified, and likely is addressed in part due to his distaste of the tradition. However, Crowley’s views have been so widely distributed that his perspectives are worth noting, if for no other reason than the scope of his influence in some magical circles such as Thelema. See Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, pg. 213.
48 version of the Eucharist into his magico-religious movement of Thelema, though his “cakes of light” were far removed from the Catholic wafers in many ways.120
Crowley’s blurring of the boundaries between magic and religion, as well as between magic and mundane life, presents an intriguing change to the perceptions of antiquity. For modern scholars, particularly those who study magic as a phenomenon more broadly, Crowley could present a potential hazard; when one views all of mundane reality as possibly being magical, how can one study magic at all? Further, Crowley cites sources from antiquity throughout his work, but interprets them to be used in a more contemporary fashion. When examining magical practitioners who subscribe to Crowley’s work (or those of his successors), is it truly possible to define their “magick” as such? Even if it is possible to do so, the problem remains that this view of magick is distinctly modern, yet had a profound impact on many Neo-pagan movements.121 As such, Crowley’s influence both problematizes and expands the role of magick beyond the already blurred boundaries of antiquity.
Nevill Drury
Nevill Drury, Ph.D., is an independent historical researcher whose work touches on a number of topics, most of which are involved in western esotericism. More importantly for the purposes of this research, Drury addresses the changing field of “magic” post-Crowley, one of
120 For more on Crowley’s Gnostic Mass, as well as the “cakes of light” which he uses in place of the Eucharist, see Drury: Stealing Fire from Heaven, pg. 77-126. 121 For more information on a few of the groups that took inspiration from Crowley, see Stephen Flowers, The Lords of the Left Hand Path: Forbidden Practices and Spiritual Heresies, 2012, and Drury, Stealing Fire from Heaven.
49 the largest of which was the introduction of the concepts of “Left-Hand“ and “Right-Hand” paths of magick, formerly referred to as Black or White magick respectively.122 Drury notes that
…the familiar… notion of magic as either “black” or “white” is clearly in need of revision. When one considers the spectrum of modern magical practices established in the West… it would seem appropriate… to employ the terminology used by many of the actual magical practitioners themselves to distinguish between the various forms of occult practice dating from the post- Crowley period…. Making the distinction between Left-Hand Path and Right- Hand Path magic instead of categorizing magic rigidly as black or white lessens the automatic stereotyping tendency of “black = evil” and “white = good” that has existed since ancient times.123
While such new distinctions do seem promising, there remains an issue of allowing an emic perspective to dominate the definitions of the phenomena. Allowing a group to define its own status, while empowering to the group’s self-image and identity, ultimately allows for both in- group bias as well as external condemnation. Drury’s suggestion, in theory, could react in favor of magical practice much the same way that the rhetoric of the ašipu functioned to legitimatize their own religious authority while disempowering the witch. Additionally, this approach may lead scholars to subscribe to, or at least validate, the perspectives of the group they are studying rather than applying a more critical lens. This having been said, it appears that what is required is an approach that draws from some of the themes of both modern and ancient thinkers in order to create a more concise, clear, and consistent approach to the study of magic.
122 While this work cannot go into these paths in-depth, they are important terms to note due to their prevalence in modern magical practice. Right-Hand path tends to focus outward, while Left-Hand Path magic tends to be more focused on an individual level, and can include anything from self-empowerment to self-deification. For more, see Drury, Stealing Fire from Heaven, pg. 77-126.
123 See Drury, Stealing Fire from Heaven, pg. 78. 50
Section 2: Defining a Magician: Laying the Groundwork for the Future and the Two A’s
Methodology Introduction
The views aforementioned on both ancient and modern magic have been, at best, conflicting and, at worse, unclear and potentially problematic. It is time, then, to introduce what this author believes will help to create a more clear-cut, straightforward, and manageable set of criteria when analyzing the topics of magic and religion. This methodology will reverse the typical direction of analysis in the study of magic, first looking at the figure performing the perceived supernatural feats and then labeling said feats accordingly. Magic, being a very vaguely defined category, becomes infinitely more identifiable when observed as being dependent upon the nature of the practitioner. Additionally, the proposed method would seek to place “magic” and “miracle” onto a broad spectrum of supernatural acts, on which both religion and magic have a place. These categories, then, will be used for comparison and analysis ranging across a spectrum of similar phenomena as opposed to being a hard and fast
“definition” of the terms.124 This method, then, will use the two categories (agency and autonomy) will function as a kind of X and Y axis, helping the academic to place each individual along a more coherent spectrum. The author hopes that such a method will create enough common ground between scholars to further the research of these ambiguous terms from a
124 I acknowledge that this does not create a working “definition”, much as I have critiqued other authors for in the previous section. This method will, ideally, create a broader spectrum of analysis and observation from which conversations may be started between scholars. I will not pretend that I can create a universally applicable definition, just as other scholars have acknowledged as well. However, the goal of this research is to create enough grounds for comparison and discussion that subsequent scholars might be able to arrive at a definition or, at very least, a clearer identification and image of these phenomena.
51 broader variety of academic traditions, from anthropology and religious studies to sociology and history. Moving forward while placing both magic and miracle onto the same spectrum, then, will help to create a more inclusive and diverse conversation on the topic while being less charged with moral or ethical judgment.125
That said, it is also necessary to note some potential pitfalls of such an approach. Utilizing a spectrum for this method, rather than a clear-cut definition, does present the issue of subjectivity, first and foremost. The author has attempted to address this by having categories
(magician, miracle-worker, and outlier) that correspond to a number of the results along the spectrum. Additionally, such an approach could create conflicting results between different analyses based on material available, while cultural differences could create a divide between interpretations. However, the author would contend such diverse results are needed for an accurate assessment of the topic, and could help to expand discussions between scholars, using conflicting interpretations to further hone and refine the topic over subsequent generations.
These having been said, the author feels that the potential benefits of such an approach far outweigh the perceived risks.126
To begin, it is necessary to analyze the criteria that define a magician or a miracle-worker, hereafter referred to as the Two A’s: agency and autonomy. These A’s function in a hierarchy of
125 This problem of moral judgment, while present in many periods of history, has a much stronger presence in the modern era due to Protestant influences during the reformation. See Scribner, “The Reformation, Popular Magic, and the ‘Disenchantment of the World’,” pg. 475- 480. 126 Such benefits include potential de-escalation of tensions between “magical” vs. “miraculous acts, the lessening of moral stigma around acts of magic, and the bridge created in discussions between scholars of different fields.
52 analysis, with agency being the primary category. Autonomy functions as secondary evidence meant primarily to support agency or, in cases where agency is unclear, to identify the nature of the figure. Once both of these have been examined, the figure may be placed along a magico-religious spectrum, with the primary titles of this spectrum being Magician, Miracle-
Worker, and Outlier.127
Each subsequent section of this chapter will address one of these A’s, giving a description of its function and a brief application within hypothetical cases. These sections will conclude with a brief note about its place within the hierarchy of the A’s before moving on to the next. Once these have been discussed and subsequently summarized, this work will then move to three chapters of case studies, wherein this method is put into practice with three different figures.
These three figures each represent one of the major classifications used within this study:
Magician, Miracle-Worker, or Outlier. 128 With this in mind, it is now time to examine these categories and what they mean to the study of magic.
Agency
Agency represents the first and most important criterion for figuring out whether a figure is a M or a MW. Agency indicates the primary mover who begins the interaction between the
127 Were this spectrum to be graphed, Agency would function as an X axis while Autonomy would function as the Y axis. By figuring out the quadrant which an individual falls into it becomes far simpler to analyze their actions as “miracle” or “magic”. Outliers on such a graph would fall into “magically-leaning outliers” or “miracle-leaning outliers.” For the introduction of this method, however, the author has elected to forego analyzing the leanings of the individual and instead will categorize them simply as Outlier. However, such an application bears noting for future analysis. 128 Throughout the remainder of the work, Magician will be abbreviated as M, Miracle-Workers as MW, in order to more succinctly apply the analysis.
53 human and the supernatural world. This supernatural contact can begin on the part of the supernatural being (often a deity, a demon or δαιμων, or an abstract force such as mana) or on the part of the human in question. Put more simply, agency as a criterion analyzes the initial contact between the individual in question and the supernatural entity (or force) that gives the individual their powers. In the case of the MW, it is the divine being which reaches out to the human, making first contact without any initiating incident on the part of the MW. (I.e. the human did not perform any form of summoning rites, any great act, with the intent of connecting to a greater supernatural power.)129 A magician, by contrast, is a figure whose intentional action brought about the connection/contact with the divine source in question.
The agency criterion examines whether the figure in question intentionally (willingly) engaged in an activity that connected them to the entity in question. Agency, then, seeks to identify the origin of the connection between the human and the divine, recognizing that an MW is sought out by the entity while an M finds (or summons) the entity by their actions.
Put into application, agency is one of the more straightforward to analyze. First, let us take human A, who is wandering somewhere because they are lost. While wandering, A hears a voice call out their name, or sees a figure waiting for them. This entity identifies itself, bestows a gift upon A or otherwise charges A with a specific task, then through this experience A is now able to manifest supernatural feats. In this case, human A can be classified as an MW due to the
129 It is important to note at this juncture that a miracle-worker is not necessarily the same thing as a “prophet” as recorded in religious traditions. While there are some cases of overlap, with a specific miracle-worker such as Moses being seen as a prophet, they are not one and the same, and function independently of each other. Miracle-workers or magicians can equally play the role of a prophet, but the nature of their actions sets them apart as performing different functions. 54 fact that the entity in question specifically sought them out without any former provocation or invocation.
In a second case, let’s examine human B. Human B wants to obtain power, influence, romance, or some other desire they have. To achieve this, they approach an area where they believe their pleas will be answered. B, either through prayer or ritual, reaches out beyond their surroundings and manages to come into contact with the same entity as human A. The entity inquires why they’ve been contacted by B, and whether through proper ritual or through entreaty B is endowed with supernatural abilities that they may then put to use in the world. 130
In this case, due to B specifically seeking out the solution to their problem, and the subsequent appearance of the divine entity, B may be classified as a Magician (abbreviated as M), due to the agency of B in initiating contact.
Outliers are those who fall somewhere between these two categories. Human C, for example, goes out into the wilderness, disappears and is not heard from for several years.
When they come back, they are capable of performing extraordinary feats, but they are unclear about how this came to be. Those who write about C discuss their feats, then discuss stories of them being approached by a deity, or stories of C going out in search of a being in the first place. Due to the convoluted nature of these stories, C cannot be reliably identified as the active agent or as the recipient of divine action. Therefore, C must be analyzed in context of autonomy instead, and if that does not lead to a definitive answer then C is labeled as an outlier.
130 Or, in some cases, are taught rituals that can bring about the results B desires. 55
Establishing Agency is crucial when moving forward with analysis. In unclear cases of agency, autonomy will function as the primary criteria of identification. However, in cases where agency can be determined, it will largely impact what the individual in question will be classified as. If, for example, agency determines the individual is M, and the Autonomy criterion agrees with this assessment, then the individual is M. If agency determines they are M, and autonomy is unclear, then agency may function as the sole determining factor. If autonomy disagrees with agency then it is determined that the individual changed paths sometime after the initial act of agency, and thus must be classified accordingly.
Autonomy
Autonomy serves as the criterion that measures whether or not the human in question has the ability to manifest miracles/magic of their own accord as opposed to being commanded how they are to manifest supernatural feats. This is perhaps the most in-depth of the criteria examined within this method, and may not always agree with the character’s classification within the agency category. However, this criterion helps to establish whether or not the figure in question remained consistently within their role as established by agency or whether they drifted into another category over the course of their career. This step is CRITICAL when examining potential outliers, as autonomy can either solidify agency (and thereby the identity of the figure in question) or it can problematize agency.
In the case of a MW, the supernatural entity commands the MW as to what they must do, which the MW obeys, and the miracle occurs as the divine being wishes. While the act is performed by the MW, it is not their autonomous will that allows them to perform a miracle.
Rather, the MW follows a command by the deity in a specific situation, and the desired results 56 occur, such as when Moses and Aaron confront the sorcerers of Egypt.131 In a sense, the MW functions much more like a receptacle of divine power, channeling it within the defined boundaries and instructions of the entity which they receive their abilities from.
A magician, on the other hand, is capable of manifesting these supernatural powers with much more fluidity, determining both the timing and method of their supernatural manifestation. This does not mean they do not follow a ritual formula as revealed by the entity with which they collude.132 What this means is that the M, unlike the MW, is not limited to using specific rituals when commanded, but rather decides for themselves what act they will perform and when they shall do so. As such, a figure identified as M has a more active and autonomous role in their supernatural workings when compared to the MW’s more “directed” role.
Put into practice observing human A (formerly designated by agency as MW), one would examine an incident (or, preferably, a lifelong series of incidents) wherein A showcased their power. In this case, let us assume that A’s miracle we are examining is the healing of a sick individual. A communicates with their entity, and the entity responds by telling them to lay their hand on the head of the sick individual, say a specific set of words, and then the individual
131 It should be noted here that in most cases the deity will give a direct command, but there is a level of freedom for some MWs so long as they work within the given boundaries that the entity has laid out for them. Moses is a good example of this, as there are some situations in which Moses is allowed to perform miracles without God’s express direction, so long as it serves the purpose of proving God’s power and Moses’s status as a prophet. For more on the topic of ritual innovation, see Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 61.
132 In fact, there are many grimoires and stories of Ms who directly receive all of their magical and ritual knowledge from their familiar/the being they have a connection to. See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World. 57 will be healed. A does so, laying a hand on the individual’s head and speaking these words, and the individual is miraculously healed. In this example, A shows no level of Autonomy, instead following verbatim the words of the entity they serve, thus solidifying their identity as MW. At this point, then, assuming the other miracles they performed followed a similar pattern, then A can safely be designated as MW.
However, for the sake of argument, let us assume that one or more stories of A do not follow this pattern. A goes to heal this sick individual, but instead of communing with the entity from whom they derive power, they walk up to the individual, say a few words, grab the individual’s hand, and suddenly the sick individual is healed. In this case A seems to be performing a miracle of their own volition and ritual process. It is possible that A is working within the realm of what their entity commands, but without that explicit information it becomes much more difficult to ensure their identity. 133 This would lead to further research and, assuming no answer was found, a potential classification as an outlier.
Human B, formerly classified as M, performs their supernatural acts with a much more liberal sense of ritual. Perhaps B has a specific formula they follow when performing a healing, but perhaps not. For this, let us take a similar example of healing the sick. B enters a town and encounters a sick individual. They sit down with the individual, pull out the instruments of their craft, and begin speaking over the individual, calling out this person’s name and addressing any spirits who may be afflicting the ill person. After a brief incantation, they shout imperiously at the being causing this human’s sickness to be gone, and voila! The individual is healed, ready to
133 For example, perhaps the entity’s initial command to A was simply, “Heal all those ill you come across,” but was not given further instruction. In such a case, A is merely following the command of the entity and thus is still classified as MW. 58 stand and run around. B then comes across another sick individual suffering from a similar condition as the first individual that B healed. B performs a similar ritual process, but instead of calling out to a spirit tormenting the sick person at the end of the ritual they merely tap the person’s head, mutter a few words, and the individual is healed. Throughout this process, B has never once consulted with the entity that gave them their power, but rather takes the initiative on their own and performs these supernatural feats of healing. In this we see that B has a great level of autonomy in their ritual process, thereby reinforcing their identity as M.
However, once again for the sake of argument, let us assume instead that B consistently prays to their entity prior to a healing, listens carefully for their response, then follows the ritual instructions of the entity to the letter. On one occasion, B even goes so far as to not heal an individual based on their entity’s command. In such a case, B would appear to have little autonomy in their ritual process, and thereby becomes problematized. As such, one would first seek out more evidence of B’s feats if there were any available. If not, B would be examined as an outlier.
For Human C, our Outlier of the initial example, Autonomy functions as their primary criterion in determining their identity. This is primarily due to the ambiguity of C’s agency. If C consistently consults the entity from which they draw power, following their dictates precisely, then C could be classified as MW. If they seem to perform their supernatural acts without outside consultation and command, instead performing each act of their own volition and ritual process, then C would be labeled as M. If these remain unclear or conflicting, then C would have to be labeled as an Outlier. If C has remained ambiguous enough in these two criteria to 59 be labeled as an Outlier, one would then handle each of C’s supernatural acts on a case-by-case basis, stating whether C was performing their role as MW or their role as M in each incident.
Autonomy, then, can serve to reinforce agency, but can also show where figures diverge from their original role. Agency remains the most important aspect of identifying a M or MW, but Autonomy serves to identify whether the figure in question retained their initial role or whether they drifted from MW to M (or vice versa). Autonomy can also serve to identify a figure whose initial agency is unclear (i.e., cases where stories conflict or say little about the origins of power for the figure in question, as was the case with C.)
Method Summary
Having now defined the individual criteria, we have a more clear-cut picture of how both
MW and M function within this method. In the case of magicians, they tend to be active agents who seek out the being/beings/supernatural force in question and take an autonomous role in the construction of their rituals and practices. MWs, by contrast, tend to be the recipient of the deity’s unsolicited (though not always unwanted) favor and are subject to said being’s will in regards to rituals and practice. As aforementioned, not all figures will meet both criteria, but this does not prevent them from being examined under the category they fit into. However, in figures who have a very mixed or unclear place within these two categories, it will become necessary to examine this figure as an outlier, analyzing miracles or magical acts on a case-by- case basis.
The subsequent sections will showcase one figure from each of these categories as applied within this new research method. Several stories from each character or figure in question will 60 be examined, broken down into their respective series of events, and analyzed within the context of the A’s. A subsequent summary will then break down the primary evidence for each classification while discussing potential objections. Therefore, it is now time to turn to the test cases.
Section 3: Miracle-workers
The first case I will analyze is Moses, a prime example of a miracle worker within this method of identification. Moses, a prophet within the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions, is seen performing a great number of supernatural feats throughout the course of the Old
Testament. While there are a good number of these which could serve as examples of his role, this analysis will focus on a handful of events within the course of his career in order to obtain a cursory analysis of a MW.134 This study will focus on Moses’ encounter with the Burning Bush in
Exodus 3, his encounter alongside Aaron against the sorcerers of Egypt in Exodus 7, and the incident of Moses drawing water from a rock and his subsequent punishment in Numbers 20.
Supplementing the source material will be commentary by Shawna Dolansky and Baruch A.
Levine, primarily for the purposes of clarifying issues inherent to the source material.135
134 If this was the only case study within the current research, I would not hesitate to give a thorough analysis of Moses’ supernatural feats, from his parting of the waters to his supernatural influence in the battle at Rephidim in Exodus 17. However, due to the constraints of the current research, the author has elected to focus instead on several incidents that show fairly clearly Moses’ agency and autonomy. Subsequent works, by the current author or by those who find this method useful, can and should examine the entirety of Moses’ career for a much more thorough result. In this instance, however, the focus is on the application of the method rather than the comprehensive analysis of any one case study. 135 It should be noted at this time that all Biblical passages are using the Harper Collins Study Bible, an edition using the New Revised Standard Version. Due to the fact that these are translations rather than the original source material, the author will not be focusing on minutia 61
The first step to applying the A’s lies in discovering the agency of the individual, as described in chapter two. For Moses this encounter involves the Burning Bush, wherein God reveals himself to Moses.
Moses was keeping the flock… and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed… God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then He said… “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham… I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you… I know, however, that the king of Egypt will not let you go unless compelled by a mighty hand. So I will stretch out my hand and strike Egypt with all my wonders that I will perform in it; after that he will let you go. (Exodus 3: 1-20)
This abbreviated version of the section in Exodus is one of the more clear-cut incidents of agency one could hope for, and thus will serve well as an introduction to the agency category.
For ease of analysis, however, let us break this event down a little further.
1. Moses, watching over the flock of his Father-in-Law, comes upon the mountain of God.
We have no indication that Moses sought this out, but rather ended up here as a result
of tending the flock.
2. An angel appears to Moses in a “flame of fire,” and Moses subsequently approaches the
bush.
3. God calls out to Moses, and Moses responds.
or specific language used in the translation. Instead, these case studies will focus on the unfolding of events contained within these passages, and will be basing all analysis on these events. It bears repeating that these sections are focused primarily on the application of the method rather than an in-depth analysis of the individual figures. It is my hope that these primary studies may help other scholars to apply the method more thoroughly within their own field of study, using what characters and figures they feel are best appropriate. 62
4. God proclaims his identity to Moses, and subsequently charges Moses with the task of
freeing the Israelites from Egypt.
5. Moses questions his worthiness in such an endeavor, and God responds by declaring
that the Pharaoh will be compelled by God’s own hand.136
A number of points bear noting in this section. The first, and of utmost importance to our analysis, is the fact that Moses is in no way credited with having sought out this encounter.
Moses, presumably minding his own business while watching over the flock of a family member, wanders close to a holy location. An angel of the Lord subsequently appears before him. This angel’s presence is the initiating event that draws Moses closer to the burning bush.
Moses’ only real actions here are in direct response to the strange events upon which he has stumbled. Taken in light of agency, thus far Moses’ only conscious effort is in identifying the source of this mysterious fire. Thus far, then, Moses has not shown any form of agency, being
(presumably) altogether baffled by the events occurring around him.
The next point that bears noting is how the subsequent encounter with God, the source of
Moses’ later supernatural powers, unfolds. God initiates the conversation with Moses, calling out his name specifically. Moses’ only dialogue with God in this section consists of responding to God, with God very clearly commanding the conversation and its direction. Perhaps of even more importance, God proclaims his identity to Moses before immediately laying a great task upon Moses, stating what actions will be taken following the encounter. Thus far, then, Moses
136 It should be noted that this scene follows a traditional “prophetic call” sequence for the Bible. There is some level of overlap between Miracle-Workers and Prophets within this method, though the two are not synonymous despite some instances of similarity. For more on Moses and his prophetic call sequence, see Jeffrey Stackert, A Prophet Like Moses: Prophecy, Law, and Israelite Religion, 2014, pg. 70-125. 63 has shown a lack of agency while God appears and takes complete command of the situation.
Agency, then, lies with God alone.
While this, by itself, could suffice to show wherein the agency lies, the last section of the verse bears noting due to its depiction of Moses. Rather than accept this task, or be overjoyed at being chosen by a deity, Moses shows humility and hesitancy that is befitting a MW. Rather than actively receive the powers and charges given to him, Moses questions God. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” Moses’ first reaction is to question his worth in this scenario, unsure of how he is to accomplish such a task.137 If Moses’ deference shows clearly his own agency, God’s response to this confirms the nature of this relationship. God explicitly states that He is the one who will perform the deeds required to convince Pharaoh and bring the Israelites from Egypt. “I will stretch out my hand and strike
Egypt with all my wonders that I will perform in it….”138 God does not declare that Moses will perform these deeds, nor does God even reference Moses in the act of convincing Pharaoh. The power lies with God alone, and Moses’ function is as a representative of God to the Pharaoh. In this, the agency lies with God, not Moses, leading to the primary criteria favoring Moses as a
137 It should be noted here that Moses follows what is often referred to as a “call” narrative, wherein a prophet goes through six stages of interaction with a deity that confirms their prophetic status and the validity of the divine call. Many MWs follow a similar pattern, and the author acknowledges that there will be overlap between MWs and prophets. However, not all figures who follow the prophetic call will be classified as MWs, and not receiving a prophetic call will not disqualify a figure from being a MW. This show of deference goes quite far in showing Moses’ role in relation to Yahweh, and thereby shows Yahweh’s active agency and Moses’ more passive response. Thus, despite its place within the prophetic call narrative, this scene remains beneficial when determining agency. For more on the prophetic call narrative, see Hava Shalom-Guy, “The Call Narratives of Gideon and Moses: Literary Convention or More?”, JHS, Vol. 11, Art. 11, 2011, pg. 3-9. 138 See Exodus 3:20
64
MW. Dolansky further affirms Moses’ lack of agency through her analysis of the transformation that follows the encounter with the burning bush.
Moses is neither a prophet nor a wonder-worker until he encounters Yahweh at the burning bush. There he is given instructions to speak on God’s behalf… and his protests are met with the endowment by God of magical powers with which he is to convince the people, and later Pharaoh, of his own authority as well as Yahweh’s might.139
Moses acts as a kind of intermediary or messenger on God’s behalf but does not appear to have had any prior supernatural capabilities.140 It is only after this initial encounter that Moses is able to perform supernatural wonders, and then only for the sake of showing Yahweh’s power. Agency, then, rests entirely on God’s shoulders, with Moses being granted abilities in order to reaffirm his role as God’s messenger and to show the might of God.
Having thus established agency, the next steps relies on establishing autonomy. To analyze
Moses’ autonomy, it is necessary to look at two critical events; the confrontation between
Moses, Aaron, and the Sorcerers of Egypt, and the bringing forth of water from a rock in the desert. Autonomy will be discussed in both, with final determinations on Moses’ identity following discussions of both incidents. To begin, let us examine the confrontation with the
“wise men and sorcerers” of Egypt in Exodus 7.
The Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “When Pharaoh says to you, ‘Perform a wonder,’ then you shall say to Aaron, ‘Take your staff and throw it down before Pharaoh, and it will become a snake.’” So Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and did as the Lord had commanded; Aaron threw down his staff before Pharaoh and his officials, and it became a snake. Then Pharaoh summoned the wise men and the sorcerers; and they also, the magicians of Egypt, did the same by their secret arts. Each one threw down his staff, and they became snakes; but Aaron’s staff
139 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 61.
140 It should be noted that this also falls in line with the traditional role of a prophet in the OT. 65
swallowed up theirs. Still Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, and he would not listen to them, as the Lord had said. (Exodus 7:8-13)
In the interest of clarifying the events that occur in this passage, a breakdown of individual events follows.
1. God instructs Moses and Aaron how they are to address the Pharaoh’s
skepticism, anticipating not only the events that would occur but also the
dialogue.
2. Events unfold as Yahweh declared, and both Moses and Aaron act exactly as
they have been commanded.
3. Pharaoh summons his own practitioners of supernatural arts, the “wise men and
the sorcerers,” and they proceed to perform the exact same feat.
4. Although the magicians succeed, Aaron’s staff proceeds to consume the other
snakes, thus showing the superior nature of the feat performed by Moses and
Aaron through God.
5. Pharaoh acts as God predicts, refusing to listen, an action that will allow Yahweh
to unleash further displays of supernatural might in the coming chapters.
Looking to the first and second points, it is made clear that Moses and Aaron are expected to take no autonomous action of their own. Rather than performing an elaborate ritual or modifying the instructions to fit the needs of the moment, Moses and Aaron follow Yahweh’s word to the letter. Even when Aaron’s rod transforms into a serpent, “…it is still made explicit that Yahweh is behind the magic. He has commanded Moses and Aaron regarding what will happen and what their responses should be every step of the way, and this continues through 66 the plague narrative.”141 Yahweh’s hand is what ultimately guides the supernatural feats, with
Moses and Aaron faithfully following His word to the letter. This is made easier, perhaps, by the fact that every incident that occurs is laid out quite clearly for Moses and Aaron, including the timing of when to perform the miracle itself. This explicit instruction is not always the case and varies greatly based on the source the tale comes from. For instance, the J source differs greatly from the P source in what is “allowed” of Moses and Aaron. In contrast with the P source,
“Moses dictates the nature of the magic far more explicitly in J, while Yahweh silently complies.
The expressed purpose of Moses’ actions is to support Moses’ claim to be Yahweh’s representative, and, as such, Moses has the power and authority to wield magic.”142 While this may give Moses a hint more autonomy, however, it falls within God’s initial parameters of proving Moses’ status as a messenger of God. Thus, while ritual innovation remains an option for Moses, rituals that are not explicitly demanded by God must serve the purpose laid out by
God in their initial encounter. 143
Thus far it appears that Moses has a lack of autonomy, but the incident warrants further analysis. In particular, the third and fourth points are ones that would be problematic for those examining the differences between Moses and the magicians of Egypt. If Moses’ actions are different from the “magic” performed by the wise men of Egypt, then why do they proceed to perform the exact same feat without God helping them? The only difference made explicit in
141 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 61.
142 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 65.
143 For more on ritual innovation, see Liane Marquis Feldman, “Ritual Sequence and Narrative Constraints in Leviticus 9:1-10:3”, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, Vol. 17, Article 12, 2017.
67 this verse is the end result: Aaron’s serpent swallows up those of the Egyptian sorcerers, showing its ultimate superiority. However, this result does not explain away the similarity of events. The verse moves immediately on to Pharaoh reacting as God predicts, and the plague narrative continues.
Moses’ encounter with the Pharaoh highlights one of the problems with the blurred boundaries between religion and magic. The narrative does not truly explain why it is that these acts of miracle and magic were nearly identical feats in execution. If Moses’ act is that of a miracle, how then are the sorcerers able to perform the same feat with their magic?144 While the episode itself serves to show the lack of ritual autonomy present in the roles of Moses and
Aaron, more evidence as to Moses’ autonomy is needed to determine his role. As such, it is necessary that we now look at a hotly debated episode from Numbers 20.
Then Moses and Aaron went… to the entrance of the tent of meeting; they fell on their faces, and the glory of the Lord appeared to them. The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and your brother Aaron, and command the rock before their eyes to yield its water. Thus you shall bring water out of the rock for them; thus you shall provide drink for the congregation and their livestock.” So Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as He had commanded him. Moses and Aaron gathered the assembly together before the rock, and he said to them, “Listen, you rebels, shall we bring water for you out of this rock?” Then Moses lifted up his hand and struck the rock twice with his staff; water came out abundantly, and the congregation and their livestock drank. But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not trust in me, to show my holiness before the eyes of the Israelites, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” (Numbers 20: 6-12)
144 Albeit with weaker results, as their serpent is devoured by Aaron’s staff. 68
This episode brings up as many questions as it does answers. Why is God punishing Moses for bringing forth the water as he was commanded? What was this lack of trust that is referred to? To examine these issues, a breakdown of this episode follows.
1. Moses and Aaron approach the designated area where they are to speak with God,
falling down in a sign of respect or submission.
2. God commands Moses and Aaron how they are to respond to the Israelites, a ritual
process that involves commanding a rock to yield water for the gathered people and
their livestock.
3. Moses takes his staff, as commanded, then proceeds to address the crowd.
4. Moses, after having addressed the crowd, strikes the rock with the staff without another
word, and water appears.
5. God punishes Moses and Aaron for a lack of trust, condemning them that they will not
be able to bring the assembly to their promised land.
Beginning at step one, all in this story appears as normal. Moses and Aaron begin by showing proper reverence to God, coming to the appointed place and falling down before the entrance to the tent of meeting. So far, so good when it comes to ritual process. Then God, much as in the confrontation with the Egyptians, gives explicit instructions to Moses and Aaron.
These steps merit breaking down, as they will ultimately help shed light on the episode from the context of ritual Autonomy. First, Moses is to take his staff, then he and Aaron are to assemble the congregation. Then, they are to command the rock to bring forth water, at which point the water would spring forth and provide relief for the gathered Israelites and their 69 livestock. Once again, all appears to be going according to plan. Even through step three things appear normal, with Moses following instructions by taking his staff and gathering the crowd.
It is here, however, that the issue begins to stray from the original instruction. Moses begins by addressing the crowd, asking them if he should bring forth water from the rock for them. At this point, two points bear noting. First, Moses was to command the rock, but ultimately addresses the crowd instead. This could, however, be interpreted as an indirect command to the rock. As this point is unclear, I will set it aside for now. However, what does warrant noting is the way in which Moses frames his statement. In no way does Moses attribute the water miracle to God, but instead asks “…shall we bring water out of this rock for you?” This personal attribution is noted by Dolansky in her analysis of this episode as well, stating that the eventual punishment of Moses and Aaron “…is a result of Moses ascribing miraculous powers to himself and Aaron, and not to God. Moses has forgotten that he is only the agent of the supreme God.
He is not the initiator of the miraculous but only its executor. He is a prophet.”145 It could be argued, then, that ultimately this punishment is brought on by Moses mistaking his role, acting temporarily as an autonomous magician rather than recognizing his role as a MW.146 To achieve a clearer picture, however, it is necessary to also examine parts four and five.
145 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 62. 146 This could, however, be interpreted as an addition by P to further separate Moses from the practice of magic. Throughout the priestly source, “… the author of P is careful never to attribute any power to Moses himself, framing each magical event to demonstrate explicitly that Yahweh instructs that Moses is merely a vessel channeling the power of Yahweh. He wields no magic in his own right, and when he attempts to do so in P’s version of drawing water from a rock (Numbers 20:9-11), he is punished for it.” See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 64. The issue of magic in the OT, however, is incredibly complex. There are times when rituals performed with the name of Yahweh is still punished for being “black magic”, yet there are moments of overlap between magical and religious ritual as well. See Rüdiger Schmitt, “The 70
After addressing the crowd, Moses lifts his hands before striking the rock twice with his staff. This is the first point of explicit departure from Yahweh’s direction, and may be the reason for Moses’ punishment in the fifth part of the story. “Presumably, Moses doubted that merely commanding the rock would produce water, so he hit the rock to make certain. Seeing this action, the people did not get the same message as they would have received had he commanded the rock… Conceivably, Moses showed impatience or a lack of faith, or perhaps it was normal in magical activity to repeat specific actions.”147 This connection between repetitive action and magical activity, while relevant and helpful to the current speculation, is secondary to the unclear message that Moses gives through his actions. In line with what Dolansky discussed, Levine points out the issue of the assembled congregation, who witness Moses bringing forth water from the rock through the use of his staff, with no reference to God in the ritual process. Not only has Moses strayed from the explicit ritual that Yahweh laid out for him, he also failed to mention God in any way during the miracle.148 This small but notable change
Problem of Magic and Monotheism in the Book of Leviticus”, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, Vol. 8, Art. 11, 2008, pg. 5-11.
147 See Baruch A. Levine, The Anchor Bible: Numbers 1-20, 1993, pg. 490. Additionally, see Mark 8:22-25 for another incident of repeated ritual process, in this case by Jesus. It is conceivable that certain actions required repeating to be effective. It is also possible, however, that both of these cases could be constituted as “magic”, and thus warrant further research. 148 It should be noted that Elisha similarly leaves out explicit mention of God when he heals the widow’s son in 2 Kings 4. However, Elisha also prays to God at the beginning of this ritual (verse 33) then proceeds to perform his ritual with the door shut from both the anxious parents. Elisha is a difficult case, and one that when put under the lens of this method may be considered an outlier. Due to the constraints of this research, it simply bears noting that Moses is punished while Elisha is not. This may be due to the private nature of Elisha’s ritual, the prayer offered beforehand, or whether it was Moses’ self-reference in producing the water for the gathered Israelites that caused him to be punished while Elisha was not. While this is outside the scope of the current research, the contrast is worth noting.
71 serves to alter the perception of the gathered audience, who are likely to perceive Moses as the one manifesting this supernatural feat rather than Yahweh using Moses as a vessel for His divine power. What appears to be the problem, then, is the level of autonomy that Moses takes upon himself, bringing focus upon him and Aaron while simultaneously changing the ritual process. As such, Yahweh punishes them for this episode, and Moses is reminded that his role is that of a MW, not a M.
This event, though the source of scholarly debate, is not entirely out of the norm for Biblical events. Prophets (who often function as MWs in the Bible) had a general understanding of their role in relation to God and the people. Prophets did not think of themselves as performing the supernatural feats attributed to them. “Rather, their actions appear to have been a visual corollary to the verbal messages they were delivering… If they perform magic, it is always in the service of establishing their credentials and Yahweh’s power.”149 Moses, like other prophets of the Bible, functions as a MW who uses supernatural acts to spread word of Yahweh’s might. It should be noted that this holds true throughout the P source, but differs slightly in other
Biblical sources.150 The E source, in particular, portrays the MWs as wielding their power of their own accord. Dolansky notes this contrast, but explains that “…it is E who identifies the power wielded by prophets as often necessary to prove their legitimacy to the people. In doing so, E sets the stage for literary portrayals of future prophets able to wield magical powers in their own right.”151 This portrayal, on a surface level, would seem to run counter to the MW’s
149 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 60. 150 For more on Moses’ difference in approach to magic within the E and J sources, see Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 61-68
151 See Dolansky, Now You See It, Now You Don’t, pg. 68 72 role, expressing an autonomy that is more indicative of a magician. However, as Dolansky points out, the prophets (who, in this instance, are MWs) often find it necessary to prove the might of their God, as well as the legitimacy of their status and relationship with God. As God’s supernatural gifts to Moses, granted at the burning bush, were given to compel Pharaoh to free the Israelites, it would appear that Moses’ overall actions fall within the confines of what God had commanded initially. He does not follow a verbatim set of instructions in J and E, as he does in P, but still falls within the boundaries that were set out for him by Yahweh. Thus, Moses performs the actions required in order to retain his status as a MW. This differs, however, in the case of Numbers 20, wherein Moses performs a miracle without crediting God or following the instructions explicitly given. As such, Moses steps closer to the realm of magic, and is ultimately punished for it. With this in mind, we may confidently state that Moses had a lack of autonomy, meaning that both A’s indicate Moses is a MW.
Section 4: Magician
Solomon has often been associated with magic, so this connection may not come as a surprise to those who have studied Solomon before. In fact, Solomon was known as one of the few authors to have their works both canonized and censored, the latter due to its potentially magical nature.152 These writings are known for instructing the reader on “…how to conjure demons, turn lead into gold, become invisible, and perform other supernatural feats. The
152 It should be noted that Solomon cannot be claimed as an historical figure with censored books; rather, the character of Solomon has been attributed to a large body of works in many different genres, and many of the works attributed to the figure of Solomon have been censored.
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Solomon of the Bible is no wizard, but interpreters detected there allusions to his magical expertise….”153 Solomon, then, presents a uniquely challenging case study, one that seems to blur the boundaries between a king chosen by God and a practitioner of occult arts. How does one classify a figure who has simultaneously been credited with some of the Bible’s greatest writings, yet is also associated with forbidden arts?
Solomon, for all his complexities, presents a very relevant depiction of the A’s of this method, showcasing an entirely different kind of supernatural working than what was seen in the case of Moses. Due to the complexity of Solomon’s story, as well as some of the minor differences between versions of his life, it is necessary to draw the tale of Solomon through the commonalities of his depictions in multiple sources. For the purpose of this analysis Solomon will be examined through the events of First Kings and Second Chronicles primarily, with some amount of time also spent on episodes from the Testament of Solomon and the seventh chapter of the Gittin, sections 68a and 68b.154
To begin, as was the case with Moses, the first step is to identify the agency. In the case of
Solomon, the initial contact between God and Solomon appears to be Solomon’s request for wisdom. It is necessary, then, to examine the accounts of this story in both First Kings and
Second Chronicles.
153 See Steven Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, 2011, pg. 75-76 154 These works, some of the only extra-biblical stories dealt with throughout the course of this study, help to flesh out the image of Solomon as a magical practitioner. Solomon’s character undergoes minor changes in depiction at times, but the actions and supernatural feats he performs remain largely consistent throughout, and thus deserve special note for the current study. Moreover, when these works are examined in conjunction with the biblical narratives there emerges a visible development of Solomon’s character. This in itself reveals something about the text’s implied audience as well as their conceptions of Solomon. See Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction, pg. 422-438. 74
Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of his father David; only, he sacrificed and offered incense at the high places. The king went to Gibeon to sacrifice there, for that was the principal high place; Solomon used to offer a thousand burnt offerings on that altar. At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night; and God said, “Ask what I should give you.” And Solomon said, “… o Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David, although I am only a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in. And your servant is in the midst of the people whom you have chosen, a great people, so numerous they cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?” It pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this. God said to him, “Because you have asked this, and have not asked for yourself long life or riches, or for the life of your enemies, but have asked for yourself understanding to discern what is right, I now do according to your word. Indeed I give you a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you and no one like you shall arise after you. I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honor all your life; no other king shall compare with you. If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your life.” The Solomon awoke; it had been a dream. He came to Jerusalem where he stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. He offered up burnt offerings and offerings of well-being, and provided a feast for all his servants. (1 Kings 3:1-15)
This in and of itself gives a very intriguing look into the agency of Solomon, but is one version of a twice-told story. Before diving into our breakdown of this event, let us compare the same story as it appears in 2 Chronicles in order that we may base our analysis on the consistent points within the story, making room at the end of the agency discussion for discrepancies between the two.
Then Solomon, and the whole assembly with him, went to the high place that was at Gibeon; for God’s tent of meeting, which Moses the servant of the Lord had made in the wilderness, was there. (But David had brought the ark of God up from Kiriath-jearim to the place that David had prepared for it; for he had pitched a tent for it in Jerusalem.) …Solomon went up there to the bronze altar before the Lord… and offered a thousand burnt offerings on it. That night God appeared to Solomon, and said to him, “Ask what I should give you.” Solomon said to God, “You have shown great and steadfast love to my father David, and have made me succeed him as king… Give me now wisdom and knowledge to go out and come in before this people, for who can rule this great people of yours?” God answered Solomon, “Because this was in your heart, and you have not 75
asked for possessions, wealth, honor, or the life of those who hate you, and have not even asked for long life, but have asked for wisdom and knowledge… wisdom and knowledge are granted to you. I will also give you riches, possessions, and honor, such as none of the kings who were before you, and none after you shall have the like.” So Solomon came from the high place at Gibeon, from the tent of meeting, to Jerusalem… (2 Chronicles 1:1-13)
Having now examined both versions of this story, a clear set of events unfolds that is of interest for this analysis. Broken down into steps again, we see several common events between the two stories, with minor differences noted therein.
1. Solomon approaches the high places at Gibeon, where he offers (or had offered) a
sacrifice of a thousand burnt offerings.155
2. God appears to Solomon in a dream that night, inquiring what He should give to
Solomon.
3. Solomon responds to God, requesting wisdom to rule over God’s people.
4. God grants not only wisdom but also possessions, riches, and honor. (In 1 Kings it is
also remarked that God will give Solomon long life IF Solomon will follow God’s
statutes and commandments.)
5. Solomon proceeds to Jerusalem following the dream. In 1 Kings it is immediately
remarked that Solomon offers up sacrifices, but in 2 Chronicles the narrative
proceeds to list the many possessions and treasures that Solomon acquired.
For the first point of the story, it is necessary to note exactly why the high places of Gibeon were problematic. To begin with, there are common associations between the high places and
155 It should be noted that the historical plausibility of this event is suspect. This is due in part to the sheer quantity of meat and blood that would be consumed by such an act. 76 idolatry or pagan worship, with the offerings of incense at the high places being seen throughout the Bible.156 Solomon himself builds high places to the pagan deities of his wives in
1 Kings 11:4-8, even going so far as to burn incense to them.157 Perhaps more problematic is his choice of Gibeon when God had chosen Jerusalem as the site of sacrifice, a site that Solomon himself would make more central through the building of the temple. “The Chronicler was so disturbed by this that he felt moved to invent a fact not mentioned in Kings, that the king chose the site because the tabernacle… was still there.”158 The fact that the chronicler was so disturbed by this is telling, but ultimately it appears that this makes little difference to God when it comes to Solomon’s initial approach, because “… while God may be a bit suspicious of
Solomon for this reason, he does not seem too angry with him because that night he appears to him in the dream… where he asks Solomon what he wants.”159
156 See Leviticus 26:30, Numbers 33:52, Jeremiah 32:35, 2 Chronicles 32:12, 2 Kings 18:4, and 2 Kings 17:11 for just a few cases wherein the high places were associated with foreign, idolatrous, or pagan practices.
157 This in and of itself seems to surprise God. “Solomon marries foreign wives and begins to worship their gods, the deepest possible betrayal of God, and that will lead in turn to the dissolution of his kingdom and… to the destruction of the temple that he had built. That wasn’t part of the script… God himself doesn’t seem to have anticipated it.” See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 12. 158 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 62. It should be noted here that the chronicler often attempts to harmonize source material that would otherwise be problematic. For example, 2 Samuel 8:18 states that David’s sons were priests despite the command that the priesthood would come from the tribe of Levi and the sons of Aaron. In 1 Chronicles 18:17 it is changed to say that David’s sons were “chief officials” serving the king instead. The Chronicler here makes a similar move to make Solomon’s choice of Gibeon more acceptable within the biblical narrative.
159 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 62.
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This brings us to our second scene of the story, wherein God appears to Solomon in a dream. Despite Solomon having chosen the high places as his spot of contact with God, it appears he satisfies God by offering a thousand burnt offerings on the altar.160 Solomon here is performing dream incubation rite, wherein the king sought to induce a dream through his offerings. This is incredibly important in an ancient context, due to the prominence of dreams as a powerful message. “Dreams as understood in the ancient Near East were expressions not of the unconscious but of the divine will – kings would try to induce them for this reason, in fact, doing so by sleeping in the Temple (a practice known as dream incubation) and some scholars suspect that Solomon did something similar to induce this dream.”161 Solomon succeeds in this endeavor, successfully summoning God to his presence with such efficacy that
God’s immediate response is to ask Solomon what he desires. Thus far Solomon seems to be the active agent in this encounter, approaching a place for the express purpose of bringing forth God’s presence. God seems perfectly comfortable with this, ready to reward Solomon immediately after His arrival.
The third and fourth scenes, taken together, paint an incredibly vivid image of both
Solomon and his role in the context of the A’s. When asked for what he desires, Solomon proceeds to briefly flatter God (omitted from the above selection due to the length of said
160 It should be noted that 1 Kings, at least in the present translation, states that Solomon “used to” offer a thousand burnt offerings on the altar there. Regardless of whether the sacrifice was made upon Solomon’s arrival (as in 2 Chronicles) or whether Solomon chose this spot since he had previously made a thousand burnt offerings upon the altar (as in 1 Kings), the importance here lies in the fact that Solomon has chosen this high place and made proper offerings on it at some point in the tale. Thus, Solomon was an active agent in seeking out God, whether at that moment or in the past. 161 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 24.
78 praise) before immediately requesting divine wisdom. Solomon is careful to frame this request as being due to ruling over God’s people, whom he wishes to rule justly. The kind of wisdom he requests, however, is divorced from a modern understanding thereof. Solomon is not requesting a level head or a patient disposition, but rather something beyond the reach of humanity. “The ancient notion of wisdom was elitist and inaccessible. It originated among the gods… They shared with humans but only with the select few – scholars and magicians who didn’t concern themselves with everyday matters.”162 Solomon’s request, framed in this light, is to be granted a portion of divine knowledge that would otherwise be completely unattainable.
Though Solomon is a king, he shows an interest that is typically reserved for those “scholars and magicians” who were otherwise detached from society as a whole.
Even God seems surprised that Solomon has requested wisdom, when the average king may have requested something much more material. However, Solomon seems to be aiming much higher than the average king. After all, “if knowledge is power, perfect knowledge means absolute power, an ability to control the forces of nature, to manipulate human psychology, and even to predict what the future will bring.”163 Solomon’s request would enable him not only to be a wise ruler but would make him a ruler who is unmatched and absolute in his reign.164 God is so pleased by this request that he not only grants Solomon the requested
162 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 51. It should also be noted that there exists here a parallel imagery to the Garden of Eden, wherein the tree of knowledge was forbidden to mankind and ultimately led to its fall from grace. 163 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 64.
164 There could also be a correlation here with Deuteronomy 17: 14-20 dealing with the law of the king and the daily reading of God’s law. It should also be noted that this same passage addresses the problems of multiple wives leading a king astray, a fate that Solomon himself succumbs to. 79 wisdom but goes on to grant him all the things he chose to forego in favor of wisdom! The 1
Kings version of the tale also conveys Yahweh telling Solomon that, should Solomon keep
Yahweh’s statutes, he will be granted a long life. It bears noting, however, that aside from this one caveat for long life, God does not require anything of Solomon besides what he has already done. There are no demands, no discussions of the parameters of using this divine gift as was seen with Moses, and no other rules which Solomon need follow. In both accounts Solomon awakens from the dream and proceeds to Jerusalem. In 1 Kings Solomon offers a sacrifice and a feast at Jerusalem, while 2 Chronicles instead begins listing the many material possessions and armies that Solomon gained following this encounter. The move to Jerusalem in both versions of the story increases the mystery as to why Solomon chose Gibeon for the encounter, since the rest of his worship appears to be at Jerusalem.165 From the perspective of a magician, however, whose active agency compels them to seek out a source of divine power, this event begins to take a more solid shape. Solomon, showing the active agency of a magician, sought out a place to perform a dream incubation rite, seeking God out rather than waiting for God to appear. Agency herein can be seen entirely on the part of Solomon, who not only sought out
God but used rather unorthodox means of doing so.
165 This choice could be due in part to the events involving the inhabitants of Gibeon in Joshua 9. The inhabitants, through trickery, hand themselves over as slaves to the Jewish people in order to be spared when God handed over the land to the Israelite people. Solomon, then, was still going out amongst his territory, but chose an area where God had given not only territory but servants to the Israelite people. More research is needed at this time, but it is important to note that Gibeon was also a place of great victory for Solomon’s people, and therefore may have been selected for this reason.
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Turning next to the issue of Autonomy, there are a number of episodes that bear discussing.
To begin with, it seems prudent to examine the building of the temple in both renditions of the tale, as the extra-biblical material will be addressing the same event from a much more demonological perspective.166 As for the biblical versions of the story, let us examine the aftermath of the building of the Temple, wherein God appears to Solomon directly for the second time. Both of these versions show a God that seems ready to renegotiate the terms of
His arrangement with Solomon, laying the groundwork for Solomon’s eventual fall later on.
When Solomon had finished building the house of the Lord and the king’s house and all that Solomon desired to build, the Lord appeared to Solomon a second time167, as he had appeared to him at Gibeon. The Lord said to him, “I have heard your prayer and your plea, which you made before me; I have consecrated this house that you built, and put my name there forever; my eyes and my heart will be there for all time. As for you, if you will walk before me… doing according to all that I have commanded you, and keeping my statutes and my ordinances, then I will establish your royal throne over Israel forever… If you turn aside from following me, you or your children, and do not keep my commandments and my statutes that I have set before you, but go and serve other gods and worship them, then I will cut Israel off from the land that I have given them; and the house that I have consecrated for my name I will cast out of my sight; and Israel will become a proverb and a taunt among all peoples. This house will become a heap of ruins; everyone passing by it will be astonished, and will hiss…” (1 Kings 9: 1-8)
166 Many extra-biblical writings regarding Solomon (or purportedly written by him) deal with demons, pagan practices, or other topics that could be considered “magic.” However, whatever the theme of each individual work, “what unites all the various kinds of writings attributed to Solomon… is their engagement with powers and principles at work in the universe that lie beyond the sense perception of ordinary humans… the king revealed the hidden subtext of the natural world…” See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 76. 167 This scene takes place immediately after Solomon sacrifices twenty-two thousand oxen and one hundred twenty thousand sheep, as well as grain offerings and offerings of fat. See 1 Kings 8:62-64
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Once again, prior to proceeding, it is necessary to look at the account of this same tale as told by the chronicler. Though the stories bear a great resemblance, the Chronicler expands slightly upon the reaction of the people who see the ruined temple.168
Thus Solomon finished the house of the Lord and the king’s house; all that Solomon had planned to do in the house of the Lord and in his own house he successfully accomplished. Then the Lord appeared to Solomon in the night and said to him: “I have heard your prayer, and have chosen this place for myself as a house of sacrifice… For Now I have chosen and consecrated this house so that my name may be there forever; my eyes and my heart will be there for all time. As for you, if you walk before me… doing according to all that I have commanded you and keeping my statutes and ordinances, then I will establish your royal throne… But if you turn aside and forsake my statutes and my commandments that I have set before you, and go and serve other gods and worship them, then I will pluck you up from the land that I have given you; and this house, which I have consecrated for my name, I will cast out of my sight, and will make it a proverb and a byword among all peoples. And regarding this house, now exalted, everyone passing by will be astonished and say, ‘Why has the Lord done such a thing to this land and to this house?’ Then they will say, ‘Because they abandoned the Lord… and they adopted other gods, and worshipped them and served them; therefore he has brought all this calamity upon them. (2 Chronicles 7: 11-22)
Once again, having examined both versions of the story it comes time to separate the events as they occur in both versions.
1. Solomon finishes building both the house of God and his own house, completing all
that he “desired to build.”
2. The Lord appears and declared his consecration for this house, stating that his eyes
and heart will remain there for all time.
168 The differences here are likely to do with when Chronicles was written, which occurred after the destruction of the First Temple. 82
3. God establishes a new set of ground rules for His arrangement with Solomon,
requiring Solomon to follow God’s statutes in exchange for his royal throne being
established forever.
4. God outlines the punishments that will occur if Solomon strays to other gods,
wherein all that Solomon has worked to build would fall to ruin.
The first scene in this episode, the completion of the Temple, at first glance would appear to show Solomon in a much more traditional religious role, leading the people and creating a new home for God in Jerusalem. However, one major detail included in both stories stands out:
God’s appearance is not simply after Solomon builds a Temple, but after Solomon builds all that he desires, including in his own home. Solomon was not just building a Temple for God with no recompense for himself, but rather was working in the interests of both God and himself.
Moreover, he completes his own palace prior to finishing the Temple of God, placing his own desires above those of God! While a small detail, it bears noting in terms of autonomy, as
Solomon appears to have freedom to honor himself with his gifts as much as he honors God, if not more so.
Scenes two and three are perhaps the most important in this story, as this encounter changes the nature of Solomon’s arrangement with God. Prior, as was noted in agency, the only condition God laid out for Solomon was that he would be awarded long life if he would keep
God’s statutes and ordinances. There are no other punishments laid out for Solomon, simply a reward for obedience. In God’s second appearance to Solomon, however, the narrative tone changes greatly. God briefly remarks that his “eyes and heart” will remain at the Temple for all time and that Solomon’s throne would be established over Israel forever. However, God makes 83 clear that this establishment was based on doing “according to all that I have commanded you and keeping my statutes and ordinances.” This condition seems similar at first glance to their arrangement upon the first appearance of God to Solomon, but very quickly shifts tones. God proceeds to lay out each of the punishments should Solomon stray from God and worship other deities, including being plucked up from his own land and having the Temple, Solomon’s greatest work, utterly destroyed and the land brought to ruin.
One point emerges from this scene that is relevant to the current study: God’s second appearance to Solomon involves a change in power dynamic, with Solomon losing much of the
Autonomy he had previously been granted, being held instead to the same standards as a MW.
This dramatic shift foreshadows Solomon’s eventual fall from God’s favor, and seems to dramatically shift the narrative away from Solomon’s works to God’s power over Solomon.
Solomon’s independence has come under divine scrutiny, and will eventually be the reason for his loss. According to Weitzman “…it is the building of the Temple that marks the difference between the two stages of Solomon’s life as if here, too, God had planned out the story only through to the middle, not foreseeing what would happen afterwards, or somehow losing control from that point.”169
Why, then, did God change the rules at this stage? And how was Solomon’s fate somehow divorced from God? One answer to this could lie in Solomon’s wisdom, which functions in a similar manner to God’s and thus may be powerful enough to change his own destiny.
However, another answer lies outside of the Biblical canon. In order to address this, I now turn
169 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 109.
84 to Solomon’s influence over demons, and his association with Asmodeus in the construction of the Temple.170 It was supposedly during the period that the temple was being built “that the king formed his alliance with Asmodeus… for Solomon found that the only way he could surmount the challenge of building it was to turn to the demons for help.”171 To truly understand Solomon’s autonomy, and his loss thereof, it is necessary to examine his association with the demons he purportedly controlled.
Solomon has a number of encounters with demons throughout his lore, but two sources in particular are of interest. The first, and the shorter of the two tales examined here, takes place in the chapter 7 of tractate Gittin, a part of the Seder Nashim.172 Solomon, in building the
Temple, runs across a problem completing the house of God as was instructed. The chief problem was due to God’s commandment that the blocks should be cut without using iron tools.173 Approaching the sages, Solomon questions how he can overcome such a seemingly impossible hurdle. The sages inform Solomon that
there is a creature called a shamir that can cut the stones, which Moses brought and used to cut the stones of the ephod… Bring a male demon and a female demon and torment them together… Solomon brought a male demon and a female demon and tormented them together, and they said: We do not know where to find the shamir. Perhaps Ashmedai, king of the demons, knows.”174
170 In Gittin 68a and 68b he is referred to as “Ashmedai,” but due to the Weitzman material and the Testament of Solomon using the name “Asmodeus,” this material will primarily use Asmodeus when discussing the king of demons.
171 See Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 110.
172 Part of the third order of the Mishnah, as well as the Talmud. 173 For the complete list of commands for the temple, see Exodus 20: 24-26.
174 See Gittin 68a.
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Solomon seemingly has no hesitation in summoning a male and female demon to get the answers he needs, and furthermore appears to have no problem managing the task. Solomon then proceeds to task a member of his entourage with capturing the king of demons, giving the young man a chain and ring both inscribed with the secret names of God. After tricking
Asmodeus by getting him drunk, the king of demons is gradually brought back to the king.
Solomon then convinces Asmodeus to reveal the location of the shamir, which Solomon uses to build the temple. However, after this successful encounter, Asmodeus eventually manages to trick Solomon and take over his throne.175 The important point to be made here is that
Solomon’s successful building of the temple relied, at least in part, on forcing demons to aid in his efforts. This will be seen again in the Testament of Solomon, to which we must now turn.
The Testament of Solomon, an ancient work edited by Tarl Warwick in 2015, depicts
Solomon during the building of the Temple. As the story begins, one of the children at the
Temple site comes forward to Solomon with stories of a demon that was tormenting him daily.
Solomon’s response is instantaneous, with him immediately seeking a solution through God.
Now when I, Solomon, heard this, I entered the Temple of God, and prayed with all my soul, night and day, that the demon might be delivered into my hands, and that I might gain authority over him. And it came about through my prayer that grace was given to me from the Lord Sabaoth by Michael his archangel. He gave me a little ring, having a seal consisting of an engraved stone, and said to me: “Take, O Solomon, king, son of David, the gift which the Lord God has sent thee, the highest Sabaoth. With it thou shalt lock up all demons of the earth, male and female; and with their help thou shalt build up Jerusalem. Wear this
175 Some traditions suggest that Asmodeus wrote magic spells and left them under Solomon’s throne, thus clearing Solomon of some of his more suspect works by placing the blame on the devil himself. For more on this story, see Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 79-80 and Gittin 68b. 86
seal of God176. And this engraving of the seal of the ring sent thee is a Pentacle.” …And I, Solomon, was overjoyed, and praised and glorified the God of heaven and earth. And on the morrow I called the boy, and gave him the ring, and said to him: “take this, and at the hour in which the demon shall come unto thee, throw this ring at the chest of the demon, and say to him: ‘In the name of God, King Solomon calls thee hither. And then do thou come running to me, without having any misgivings or fear in respect of aught thou mayest hear on the part of the demon.177
When broken down into its respective parts this narrative becomes one of the more straightforward of this analysis.
1. Solomon enters the Temple, praying over the course of night and day, in order to
gain authority over a demon.
2. Michael the archangel appears and gives Solomon a ring. The ring has a seal on an
engraved stone.
3. Michael tells Solomon the ring is a gift from God to lock up “all demons of the earth”
4. Michael instructs Solomon that these demons will help in the building of the Temple,
but does not offer ritual instructions beyond wearing the seal of God.
5. Solomon proceeds to give this ring to a child being tormented by the demon, and
gives detailed ritual instructions on how the child is to proceed.
Solomon’s first reaction is much like his pursuit of Wisdom examined earlier on. Solomon takes full agency in this encounter, entering the house of God and proceeding to pray through day and night. This seems similar to his attempts at dream incubation at the beginning of his
176 Josephus discusses an encounter with someone versed in the esoteric knowledge of Solomon. For more on this encounter, as well as more on the seal of Solomon, see Weitzman, Solomon: The Lure of Wisdom, pg. 70 and Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews Book VIII, chapter 2.
177 See Tarl Warwick, The Testament of Solomon, 2015, pg. 7. 87 reign, but with the notable absence of sacrifice. What is perhaps most intriguing about this first scene, however, is not the ritual procedures Solomon follows but the ultimate intent of said ritual. Solomon doesn’t come into this ritual seeking answers; Solomon seeks control.
Solomon’s expressed intent is that the demon be delivered into his hands, and that he may
“gain authority over him.” Solomon’s intent is not to banish the demon, but to command it, foreshadowing the rest of the text’s narrative while also giving an insight into Solomon’s character. Solomon has a great need here to show his own authority over the demonic realm.
He recognizes, however, that he will need the help of God to do so, and thus he approaches the ritual prayers immediately.
Following this initial approach by Solomon, Michael the archangel appears and gives
Solomon the answer to his prayers: a ring with an engraved stone, a gift from God to lock up not just the demon in question, but to in fact bind “all demons of the earth.” This again parallels the initial encounter between Solomon and God, with Solomon’s agency resulting in being gifted more than he asked for. Not only this, but Michael’s instructions can be best summed up as “use this ring to get help from the demons in building the Temple.” Beyond this, Solomon is given no restraints in the use of the ring, nor is he given any form of ritual which he is to follow or statutes on how the power must be used. Solomon then prescribes a ritual, gives instructions to the tormented boy, and proceeds to bind the demon afflicting the child. This results not only in the capture of said demon but ultimately the summoning and binding of many more, all of whom are used to create a better Temple. This association of demons and magic (herein 88 meaning the binding of demons through a ritual process) is fairly typical of Christian texts.178
Solomon starts the incantation and the boy is to follow with “In the name of God,” though the ultimate command comes from Solomon himself beckoning the demon thither.
Following what will thereafter become a formula for each subsequent demon, Solomon asks the demon’s name, then upon hearing their answer proceeds to question what zodiac or heavenly sign they are subject to, what angel frustrates them, what their business was in the world, and other questions based on their individual responses. All the while, Solomon uses the seal given to him by God to bind the demons, then subsequently puts them to work in the building of the temple.179 After this he offers a prayer of thanks to God, then proceeds to question subsequent demons in turn. In all of this, Solomon follows a formula that is not aforementioned in the encounter with Michael, using a consistent incantation and ritual process which seems to be of Solomon’s own invention. In this sense, Solomon has complete autonomy over the ritual process of binding the demons, and is empowered in this ritual by the seal he was given from God. Besides showcasing Solomon’s autonomy in the ritual process, the text also “weaves into the narrative some very useful demonological lore, for whenever
Solomon subdues a demon, he forces that demon to identify his or her name, malicious activities, and the angel by whom, or technique by which he or she is thwarted.”180 Through all
178 See Robert W. Scribner, “The Reformation, Popular Magic, and the ‘Disenchantment of the World’”, The Journal of Interdisciplinary History, Vol. 23, No. 3, Religion and History, pg. 481.
179 Solomon orders each demon to work based on their unique business or traits, but also punishes them by their work on the temple. For instance, Beelzebub, destroyer of kings, is treated as a slave, forced to carve up Theban marbles for use in the building of the temple. See Warwick, The Testament of Solomon, pg. 14-15. 180 See Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, pg. 180.
89 of this, Solomon’s autonomy appears to be completely his own, with each step of the ritual process (though consistent) seemingly crafted by Solomon himself as he goes. This also accounts for some of the changes to the ritual Solomon makes when certain stronger demons appear.181 In this way, not only did Solomon approach God for this result (thus showing agency), he has also shown a complete sense of autonomy within the ritual formula.
One such case occurs as a female demon refuses to identify herself to Solomon when he commands her to. She instead instructs him how he is to proceed, ordering the king around much like a servant. Rather than double down on his demands of the demon, however,
Solomon unexpectedly follows her advice. “And I, Solomon, did as she enjoined me, and restrained myself because of the wisdom dwelling in me; in order that I might hear of her deeds, and reprehend them, and manifest them to men.”182 In this sense, Solomon has autonomy to break off the ritual, but it is due to the “wisdom dwelling in” him. This wisdom, having been given by God, could be the guiding force for Solomon, thus removing some level of autonomy from him. However, this incident stands in contrast to the rest of the text, as
Solomon does not often break from his initial formula throughout. In this case, it would appear, the wisdom granted by Solomon’s prayer at the high places ended up guiding his choice to break with the traditional ritual, instead opting for an approach that might benefit him better in the end. It is ambiguous whether the “wisdom” within references Solomon’s supernatural wisdom specifically, as it seems, or whether it is a general reference to a wisdom of the spirit.
181 This, again, could be discussed within the context of ritual innovation. See Feldman, “Ritual Sequence and Narrative Constraints in Leviticus 9:1-10:3”, 2017.
182 See Warwick, The Testament of Solomon, pg. 25. 90
As such, this analysis will be working under the notion that the reference is towards Solomon’s wisdom, a result of his magical invocation of God in 1 Kings and 2 Chronicles. As such, this does not appear to undermine Solomon’s autonomy, but rather aids him in reconstructing his ritual process. Having established both Agency and Autonomy for the king, Solomon may be comfortably placed within the realm of M for the purpose of this analysis.
Section 5: Outliers
Jesus has a unique position here for a number of reasons. First of all, it is difficult to assess what the historical figure Jesus of Nazareth was like due to our primary sources being Jesus’ varied portrayal in the Gospels. Secondly, Jesus’ status as the Son of God in the Christian tradition tends to place him as “immune” to the title of “magician” in most religious thought.
Third, and certainly not least in this case, is the ambiguous nature of many miracles that are performed throughout Jesus’ life and career. Due to these reasons (among others), Jesus will be an excellent example of the gray “outlier” category. Due to the fact that the Gospels all depict
Jesus somewhat differently, it is hard to get a clear image of the character himself.183 As such, this work will primarily focus on Jesus as he is depicted in the Gospels of Mark and Luke, due to the parallel episodes that this analysis will examine.
Before proceeding to examine some of the incidents in Jesus’ life, it is necessary to take note of several points. First, and not to belabor the point, the Jesus discussed in this analysis will be Jesus as a literary character in the Gospels of both Mark and Luke. Other depictions of
183 This is due in part to some conflicting sections of the Gospels, which inhibits the reader from knowing as much about the character of Jesus as they may wish. 91
Jesus, biblically or elsewhere, will not be considered for the purposes of this analysis. This is due in part to the similar nature of events in Mark and Luke creating a more cohesive figure, but in part due to the enormity of such a task as reconciling all the various depictions of Jesus. This task may well be one worth performing, but will unfortunately be too broad for the scope of this project. Second, and perhaps equally important, is that the concept of Jesus being a magician is not new or novel, and has in fact been brought up in antiquity as well. Graf notes that there were many ancient thinkers that believed he was a magician who performed miraculous deeds through secret arts.
Supposedly he had learned these techniques in the secret chambers of Egyptian temples, along with the names of powerful “angels” (angeli) and certain secret doctrines… the ‘angels,’… are ‘demonic beings who served as assistants to the initiated magicians and whose names had to be known to the person who wished to make use of their services.’ The pagans who called the Christ a magician knew what they were talking about and could confirm their accusation by drawing on Christ’s biography: had he not, in his youth, spent some years in Egypt?184
Egypt, as briefly mentioned in the section on Moses, was already quite famous for its magical arts. One of Moses’ most famous scenes, and one analyzed in this work, was a confrontation with the sorcerers of Egypt. This is not to state that Jesus is a M.185 This is
184 See Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 90-91.
185 Jesus has been labeled a M by other sources throughout history. Jewish authorities have happily done so in later antiquity. See Bohak, Magic in the Ancient World, pg. 76. Moreover, the depiction of Jesus going to Egypt in Matthew also serves to align him with Moses’ narrative in Exodus. However, due to some historical figures musing on Jesus learning magical arts while in Egypt, the event bears noting if only for the implied audience of the text.
92 brought forward to make clear that these are not new accusations or discussions, but rather ongoing conversations between different perspectives since antiquity.186
Before jumping into several stories of Jesus’ miracles (or magic), it is first necessary to say a few words on the agency of Jesus. The two Gospels being used for this analysis, Mark and Luke, have two different beginnings to the Jesus narrative. In the interest of moving on to more easily analyzed episodes, these two will be discussed here in summary. Mark’s depiction of Jesus’ relation to God begins at John the Baptist, with a voice from Heaven calling out to Jesus, saying that Jesus is God’s son and that God is well pleased with Jesus (Mark 1:11). Luke’s narrative follows the more-often told story, with Gabriel speaking to Mary in Luke 1 about the forthcoming virgin birth, and the subsequent birth narrative occurring in Luke 2. Luke’s version of the story, wherein all is determined by God for the birth of His Son prior to Jesus ever having been conceived, appears to put agency on God. However, as Jesus was not yet born, it is difficult to truly analyze this as the makings of Jesus as a MW.187 Due to Jesus not yet being present, God does not so much seek out Jesus as He makes it possible for Jesus to be born.
186 For a more thorough analysis on Egyptian magic and its influence on Greco-Roman and Jewish cultures, see Bohak, Ancient Jewish Magic, Graf, Magic in the Ancient World, and Janowitz, Magic in the Roman World.
187 This is not to say that pre-birth prophetic status cannot be laid upon an individual. The call of Jeremiah (Jeremiah 1: 4-19) involves exactly such a scene. Mark’s narrative of Jesus includes no such story, though Luke’s depiction of Jesus does. As much of this narrative involves Jesus’ status as a child of God it becomes difficult to analyze such a scene without taking divine heritage into account. For the current research I have forgone the analysis of Jesus as a child of God in favor of analyzing Jesus’ role as a performer of supernatural feats. As such, while the author acknowledges this pre-birth divine status may be the source of some (or all) of Jesus’ abilities in certain texts, the analysis will instead focus on more easily recreated and examined incidents of Jesus time as a human performer of miraculous or magical deeds.
93
Mark’s narrative, on the other hand, does have God speaking out to Jesus as he is baptized.
However, the lack of context prior to this baptism makes the analysis difficult. The only statement is regarding Jesus having come from Nazareth to be baptized, but otherwise the author of Mark leaves details prior to Jesus’ baptism rather lacking. Did Jesus come from
Nazareth to seek out God? Was Jesus already chosen prior to this? Did God reach out and adopt
Jesus, or did Jesus take the pilgrimage to Jordan specifically for the purpose of summoning God, as Solomon did at Gibeon? Due to the conflicting and ambiguous narratives of Jesus’ early life, agency cannot be solidly identified.188 Autonomy will thus serve as a primary indicator of his role. As will be seen momentarily, the results of such an analysis depict Jesus more as an outlier than as M or MW.
When examining Jesus from the point of view of an outlier, we see several sides: The
M/exorcist Jesus as showcased in the exorcism of Legion, the MW Jesus in the case of the hemorrhaging woman, and a fusion of the two with the resurrection of the dead girl. Jesus, then, becomes much easier to analyze via this method when being shown as performing the role of either a prophet or a sorcerer in various situations. This analysis will now seek to identify these scenes and Jesus’ role in them, with a section afterwards to discuss how to handle a figure such as Jesus within this new method of identification. To begin, however, this work will now turn to the episode of a man possessed by Legion, as it appears in both texts.
When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and bowed down before him; and he shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” For he had said to
188 Jesus’ life is incredibly difficult to piece together into one cohesive narrative, due in part to the changes in subsequent generations of literature and scholarship. For an in-depth analysis on what can and cannot be determined about the life of Jesus of Nazareth, see Bart Ehrman, How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee, 2014. 94
him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” He begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country. Now there on the hillside a great herd of swine was feeding; and the unclean spirit begged him, “Send us into the swine; let us enter them.” So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea. (Mark 5: 5-13)
Luke’s version of this story will now be told, which has only minor differences from the account in Mark.
When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me” – For Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man… Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for Many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. (Luke 8: 28-33)
Only two minor differences are found between these versions of the same story. First is minor, with Legion not stating that there are many demons inside of the man, but rather allowing Jesus to interpret from the name. This minor difference is of little consequence to the narrative itself. The second difference is the destination to which they believe Jesus will banish them. In Mark’s version of the tale, Legion begs not to be sent out of the country, suggesting that Jesus may simply banish them from their locale. Luke’s version, however, suggests a much stronger form of exorcism, with Legion begging not to be sent “back into the abyss.” Beyond a perceived difference in Jesus’ talents and strength as an exorcist, however, the narrative runs largely the same, with the pigs rushing to their deaths in a body of water (the sea in Mark, a lake in Luke).
1. The possessed man sees Jesus, runs toward him, and bows or falls down before him. 95
2. The spirit inside the man begs Jesus not to torment him, presumably in direct
response to Jesus commanding the “unclean spirit” out of the man’s body
3. Jesus asks the spirit’s name, which the spirit gives as Legion before begging not to be
sent away.
4. Jesus agrees to the demon’s request to be sent out of the man and into a herd of
nearby pigs.
5. The pigs rush down a hill and are drowned in a body of water.
This episode, focused primarily on Jesus’ talents as an exorcist, shows a great deal of autonomy on the part of Jesus. The unclean spirit, having seen Jesus and recognizing him (or, perhaps, moving in response to Jesus’ command) falls down in front of Jesus. This already serves as a prominent indicator of Jesus’ talents, as the spirits immediately begin begging Jesus not to harm them or send them away. Meanwhile, Jesus’ entire ritual consists of only a few parts, none of which involve Jesus asking for advice from God or any advice being offered.189
After asking the spirit’s name, Jesus’ primary action is to agree to send the demons into nearby pigs rather than out of the country or to the abyss. From there, the pigs rush down of their own volition (whether due to the demons or due to the ritual process of the demons entering them), effectively eliminating the demonic threat. Jesus, throughout this scene, has no guidance, offers no indication of getting his powers from God, and ultimately performs a very simple ritual with
189 This could be due in part to Jesus being considered an incarnation of God, at which point he would not need to seek counsel. However, as this research is not examining Jesus as God, the lack of instruction is worth noting. 96 an almost improvisational tone.190 The demons do the majority of the speaking in this scene, leaving Jesus to show his efficacy with barely any work or ritual involved. In this sense, Jesus appears in this scene to have complete autonomy over the ritual process.191 Moreover, as noted in the discussion on ancient magic, exorcism was considered the basis for most magical practice. Jesus here shows not only a competency in exorcism, but he appears to be able to perform this ritual with no prior preparation or instruction. Jesus merely commands the demon, and the demon obeys, terrified for its life. Therefore, in this episode, Jesus appears to be performing in the role of a M.
Due to the rather brief narrative given for this supernatural feat, however, it is necessary to examine several other instances of Jesus’ actions. The next episode, quite contrary to the seemingly magical acts of exorcising Legion, seems to show Jesus’ powers reacting without his intent to reveal them.
Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years… She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” … But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” (Mark 5: 25-34)
190 When examining Jesus as God this seems to just be a miraculous act. If one is merely examining the actions Jesus is taking, however, it appears to be more closely related to magical actions than those of a miracle-worker.
191 It could be argued that Jesus’ actions were merely following a typical exorcist’s ritual, asking the name of the demon before commanding it out of the human. However, Jesus does not receive any form of command or direction to do so that the reader is given, and thus autonomy appears to be fully within Jesus when performing the ritual, regardless of the form said ritual takes. 97
Before proceeding, it is necessary to examine the parallel story in Luke.
She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his clothes, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. Then Jesus asked, “Who touched me?”… When the woman saw that she could not remain hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before him, she declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” (Luke 8: 44-48)
Having read both stories, let us break them down further.
1. A woman suffering from hemorrhages runs up and touches Jesus’ clothes, believing
that it will heal her.
2. The woman’s bleeding immediately stops.
3. Jesus proceeds to ask the crowd who touched him. In Mark, it is stated that Jesus
sense a power going out of him.
4. The woman comes forward trembling, falls down and declares the truth of what
happened.
5. Jesus tells the woman her faith has healed her, and dismisses her to leave in peace.
The first point that bears noting is that Jesus does not even intend to perform a healing in this episode; rather, the ill woman herself is credited with the healing through her own faith!
This stands in stark contrast to any case we have examined so far, with no ritual process involved beyond the touching of Jesus’ garments. As the scene concludes, Jesus performs the only direct action he takes in the entire episode, which involves reassuring the woman and sending her on her way. 98
What bears most note in this, perhaps, is Jesus’ reaction when the woman is healed.
Despite the apostles telling Jesus that he was only touched due to the size of the crowd,192
Jesus begins calling out to find who touched him. In Mark’s version, Jesus even feels that the
“power had gone forth” from him. This unintentional transference of power in Mark suggests multiple points relevant to this analysis. First, Jesus does not have full autonomy over the power he wields. Jesus not only has this power depart from him without willing it to, but he also seems to be aware of its transference to someone who touched him, though not an awareness of who did so. While Luke’s narrative leaves out Jesus’ awareness of his power departing him, it still depicts Jesus as searching the crowd for the responsible party.
Second, and most importantly, this section shows a level of intent necessary to affect this transference of power. “The text implies that ordinary, accidental touch does not affect the transfer of Jesus’ power in this automatic way. Rather, only touch with the intention of being healed and with trust that Jesus is the bearer of power to heal creates the phenomena…By availing herself of the power of Jesus, she has saved herself from her torment and is able, as
Jesus confirms, to go in peace.”193 This explains in part why all those who touch Jesus are not immediately healed of their ailments, but for this analysis it shows that autonomy is not required by Jesus to heal. The ill woman is the party that shows autonomy in this situation, with
Jesus merely acting as a vessel for divine power. Due to the lack of autonomy on the part of
192 Omitted from the verse in the interest of space.
193 See Harold W. Attridge, Hermeneia: Mark, A Commentary, 2007, pg. 283-284. 99
Jesus in this miracle, it must be determined that Jesus is performing an unintentional role as a
MW, healing through the power stored in him rather than through his own actions.194
The next episode necessary to analyze involves one of Jesus’ most powerful healings in his career: the raising of the dead. In both versions of the narrative, Jesus comes across a group of people in mourning.
When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her… “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat. (Mark 5: 39-43)
The episode as depicted in Luke plays out much the same, with a slight word choice difference when referencing the girl and less focus on dismissing the gathered crowd.
They were all weeping and wailing for her; but he said, “Do not weep; for she is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. But he took her by the hand and called out, “Child, get up!” Her spirit returned, and she got up at once. Then he directed them to give her something to eat. Her parents were astounded; but he ordered them to tell no one what had happened. (Luke 8: 52-56)
This narrative plays out in a similarly straightforward manner to what was seen in the case of Legion, with minimal command or ritual involved.
1. Jesus remarks upon the crying and lamenting of the gathered people, and states that
the child is only sleeping.
194 There could also be seen here an incident of what Frazer would refer to as “contagious magic,” wherein the mere contact with Jesus bestows the effect upon the bleeding woman. 100
2. The people laugh at Jesus’ remark. In Mark’s version of the story, the crowd, with
the exception of the girl’s parents, are led out of the room.
3. Jesus takes the girl’s hand and tells her to get up.195
4. The girl rises, full of energy, and the parents are amazed.
5. Jesus orders the parents to give the girl something to eat, and also orders them not
to share what had happened.
Examining this scene, once again the reader is given minimal information as to the ritual process Jesus used, if he did any at all. The most given is that Jesus takes the girl’s hand, commands her to get up, and the girl does so. As was the case with Legion, Jesus’ every word appears to be powerful enough to bring about his desired result. Whether Jesus has any ritual autonomy in this, however, is unclear. Was this raising of the dead performed through faith, in the same way that the healing of the bleeding woman occurred? Or was this Jesus’ autonomous will to raise a child from the dead? Why does Jesus insist that the child is asleep when all those gathered believe she is dead? Even upon breaking this scene down, Jesus’ narrative identity becomes no simpler to pinpoint, with a lack of evidence that is as vexing as the conflicting portrayals of Jesus’ works in the former two episodes. Further complicating this matter is that in both versions of the story Jesus commands the family to not share what they have witnessed. Why, if Jesus was simply following the model set out by God, does he wish to hide
195 In Attridge’s commentaries on this scene, a special note is made of Jesus’ word choice when raising the girl from the dead. “… what he says is not an incantation or magical formula. It is noteworthy, however, that the only words of Jesus that the evangelist gives in Aramaic in this context are the powerful words by which, in part, Jesus raised the girl from the dead. The implication is that, for Greek speakers in the audience, the Aramaic words were in themselves perceived to be mysterious and powerful. See Attridge, Hermeneia, pg. 285-286.
101 this miracle? The other miracles discussed both were very public displays, and conceivably followed a similar pattern of ritual. While this is not completely clear, the order for silence does suggest a certain secrecy to the act.196 In this sense, Jesus appears to not wish this information to become public. Whether this is due to the interaction with a dead body (an unclean object) or whether it has to do with speculations of magical power, it is difficult if not impossible to say.
Autonomy thus cannot be verified, and Jesus must be placed as an outlier.
This is not to say, however, that this time spent analyzing Jesus amounts to throwing up our hands and giving up on the task of analysis. Far from! In cases of outliers, a completely new realm of analysis opens up. Outliers, due to their unique status, should be examined on a case- by-case basis. For example, in the case of the exorcism of Legion, Jesus would be performing his role as a M, casting out the demons to their inevitable demise. He takes an autonomous role in handling the creature, follows a short ritual procedure that appears to be of his own devising, then moves on without any credit to God for the act. When examining Jesus’ encounter with the bleeding woman, however, he takes on a much more passive role, acting as a kind of vessel for divine energy that the woman draws out from him. In this scenario, Jesus would be performing his role as a MW. This could be applied to any number of cases involving Jesus, or
196 It bears noting that Jesus’ insistence on secrecy here could be due to the prevalence of the “Messianic Secret” in Mark, wherein Jesus insists on secrecy for acts of healing. While the Messianic Secret may be in part the reason for Jesus’ behavior here, the need for secrecy is still a point that bears noting when examining the actions of Ms and MWs due to its relation to the As. Due to the constraints of this research there will not be an extended discussion on the relationship between the Messianic Secret and magic, but the theme of secrecy in the book of Mark would be an important point for a more in-depth analysis of Jesus. However, as the primary purpose of these case studies is to show how an analysis using the As would look, any thorough analysis on Jesus and the Messianic Secret will be reserved for future scholarship. For more on the Messianic Secret, see Patrick Gray, The Routledge Guidebook to the New Testament, 2017, pg. 51, and William Wrede, The Messianic Secret, 1971, pg. 34-49. 102 whatever outlier is being examined. Thus, outliers function as anomalies that cannot be placed into one spot on the magico-religious spectrum, instead jumping from one role to another as is necessary for their work. The ideal for this method, then, is to not only identify those figures who have a clear spot on the magico-religious spectrum, but to show how figures who are not so clear-cut still have a role to play within both the study of magic and the study of religion.
Section 6: Concluding remarks
This research has centered on reframing the identification of “magic” and “religion” to a practitioner-focused approach, employing a method that identifies the practitioner on two primary criteria. These criteria allow modern scholars to categorize individuals as either Ms or
MWs, and thereby study their actions accordingly. This is done in part to avoid some of the pitfalls that are prevalent in the study of magic as a category, particularly the tendency to frame a dominant group as “religion” and their opponents as “magic.” This analysis has also given a brief history of both ancient and modern views of magic, combining aspects of each to create an entirely new system of identification. In so doing, this research strives to create a more cohesive, concise, and yet still critical method for modern scholars. This is important due to the prevalence of magical practitioners in the modern era, where the term has become less stigmatized than in generations prior but still remains a minority (and thus often at-risk) group.
The applications of this research, while applied to ancient systems of religion and magic for the course of this analysis, could be much more far-reaching. Ideally this method could be applied to modern examples as well, perhaps allowing a more consistent place for magic amongst scholars of varying fields such as religious studies, anthropology, literature, and 103 others. The A’s provides a method that is not exclusive to any one field, and could thus prove as a point of unity between those interested in the study of magic as a phenomenon.
Many of the ideas forwarded by this research are done so with the hope of detaching the field of religious studies from notions of “magic” that are deeply rooted in medieval,
Reformation, and 19th century Protestant ideology.197 Much as theurgy was often considered
“immune” to accusations of magic, many religious figures and characters are considered immune to the title of “magician.” This rhetoric of immunity enables an emic approach to the study of religions which prevents magic from being studied in the context of certain figures with religious connotations. At the same time, such rhetoric also furthers the idea of “magic” belonging to an outside group, making the term into polemics while lacking substance. As such, there need to be significant steps taken to understand magic not just from the perspective of ancient thinkers or religious institutions, but from an analytical perspective that allows for more extensive research and scholarship.
This method, which is a small step on a long road toward the restructured study of magic, can help to understand the ancient category of magic from a modern perspective. The author also hopes that this method will provide a broader spectrum from which to analyze both magic and religion, one which does not take itself to be separate categories but rather different approaches to supernatural feats.198 By removing some of the modern baggage associated with
197 Much of this Protestant ideology blurred the lines between “religion” and “magic” in ways that are very far-reaching in modern scholarship. See Scribner, “The Reformation, Popular Magic, and the ‘Disenchantment of the World’,” pg. 484-491.
198 The separation between the two is also a somewhat modern problem, as Christianity itself had many magical elements prior to the Reformation. See Scribner, “The Reformation, Popular Magic, and the ‘Disenchantment of the World’,” pg. 475-480. 104 these terms, it is my hope that both categories may be looked at without the moral and political connotations that many scholars and religious figures have promoted over time.
Furthermore, this method is intended to foster a level of communication between scholars of different research interests, allowing for a common ground between cultural, religious, and magical scholarship. Toward that end, this method is intended to create a framework wherein magic and religion are not looked at as polar opposites. Rather, these supernatural acts and figures fall somewhere within a broader magico-religious spectrum. By placing these subjects as distinct though part of the same spectrum rather than as diametrically opposed, there may be more possibilities for these hitherto conflicting categories to find common ground amongst their ideals as well as their practitioners.
This is not, however, meant to be considered as a final “be-all-end-all” of methods. Rather, this research has attempted to establish a greater methodological and ideological framework from which scholarly works may spring, adding and improving (or revising) as necessary. For example, the author would suggest that future endeavors using this method might also examine such traits as the individual’s relationship to structures of authority, wherein miracle- workers might reinforce some existing authority while magicians are ambivalent to it or oppose it. Beyond this, there may be a host of other criteria that could serve to further hone and enhance the identification of such figures over time.. As such, this method is meant to be part of the much larger conversation on magic and religion, and, ideally, one that will make it easier for scholars of varied interests and backgrounds to come together in the pursuit of a common passion: the ever-elusive category of magic. 105
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