Croesus - Claude Vignon

Croesus - Claude Vignon

Chapter 8: Gifts for the Gods

by Astyages T2

The baggage-train was a dazzling sight; a dozen ox-drawn wagons, piled high with all kinds of valuable gifts, including many items made of gold, silver and purple, not only for the Pythoness herself, but also for her scribes and priestesses and even for all the people of Delphi. This colourful caravan was escorted into the broad courtyard of the Temple of the Oracle by a pair of temple guards and the herald whom Croesus had sent to Delphi to put the king’s questions to the oracle.

Seeing such a huge and wealth-laden baggage-train, the Pythoness realised immediately that Croesus was evidently hoping to purchase the favour of the gods by such lavish gifts. Mortal humans are so stupid in their conception of the gods, she thought to herself; as if they could be bought! The minds of the gods could be known – at least partially; that much she knew from her own personal experience; but they most certainly could not be bought!

Not that this attitude was uncommon, as the Pythoness had realized a long, long time ago; indeed, she knew that most people felt this way; and that her own thoughts on the nature of the gods were quite exceptional, not to say unique and these, her deepest and most private thoughts, she had long ago learned to keep to herself. Indeed, very early in her training she had realized that virtually all of the people, noble or commoner, who came to inquire of the oracle, were trying one way or another to purchase the gods’ favour for their own purposes; and they did not like to be told that this was impossible.

Although personally she knew perfectly well that such an attitude was both foolish and superstitious, the Pythoness felt not contempt, but rather compassion for those who came to inquire of the oracle. She realized that, superstitious or not, in such a harsh, unpredictable and uncontrollable world, it was not only understandable, but perhaps even inevitable that mortal humans should thus try to influence the actions of their gods; it made them feel a little less insecure to imagine that they actually had some chance to control their destiny.

As the bodily vehicle through which the oracle gave voice to its often highly enigmatic and occasionally impenetrably cryptic prognostications; the Pythoness would stand with her arms outstretched to receive the god, completely entranced as the spirit took possession of her, right on the very edge of the precipice over the bottomless pit in which dwelt the god.

It really was, she thought with amusement, a marvellous piece of theatre; and after a lifetime of training for the role, her performances never failed to impress. Speaking in the strange and incomprehensible tongue of the gods she would deliver the oracle’s response to the enquirers’ questions. These incomprehensible words, which came into her head directly from the very minds of the gods themselves, were then interpreted by one of the other entranced, priestesses and then written down on a small scroll of papyrus; finally the oracle’s miraculous pronouncement was given to the often dumbfounded inquirer.

The Pythoness’ own knowledge of the oracle was thus unique. Until her soul passed back into the void, when she would by replaced by another Pythoness who was even now training for the position, no-one else, she knew, would ever understand how intimate this relationship was; infinitely more intimate than any merely physical or corporeal union; psyche to psyche; mind to mind and soul to soul; with no physical sensation at all, only a spiritual awareness so deep that, as soon as any question was asked of her, its answer sprang directly into her consciousness.

She knew with absolute certainty that these were not her own thoughts, but the thoughts of the god; for in that instant, in the deepest ecstasies of her trance, her mind and the mind of the god met and were as one. It was the depth of this spiritual perception which alone enabled her to find in her heart the compassion she needed to ignore the greed and stupidity of almost all who came to her seeking her advice; and to phrase her answers in just such a way as would lead them into the best course of action in order to resolve their particular problem; or at the very least, to their spiritual advancement, in those all too frequent cases where what was wished for was not possible.

But it was only natural for mortal humans, she thought, to thus attempt to control the very gods themselves; after all, since they themselves were all too often influenced by just such trivial inducements as fame, power, material wealth or physical pleasures and comforts, it was perfectly natural for them to assume that the gods, too, could be swayed by such things, imagining the nature of men and the gods to be the same. What humanity didn’t seem to realize, however, was that the nature of the gods was vastly different from anything their mortal minds could possibly perceive; and that, from the perspective of the gods, nature was what humanity was put upon the Earth to rise above, although pitifully few of them ever rose to the challenge.

The Pythoness knew with absolute certainty that such trivial things as trinkets and baubles, more precious than life itself to mortal men, were meaningless to the gods. At some level, she knew, all ‘spirits’ were one; one Great Spirit, or ‘God’. But on earth the various and infinite aspects of this Spirit; this ‘God’, was, at least in appearance, separated and divided into the myriad forms of creation and the various natural and supernatural agencies which eternally govern the physical world; divided into both gods who both control and embody all natural phenomena; and the spirits of individual humans; who were invariably completely deceived by the illusion of their individuality and their apparent separation from both each other and from the Creation. Rarely, if ever, did they ever realize their fundamental spiritual unity with each other; let alone their even more fundamental unity with not only the Creation, but because that Creation was itself the physical manifestation of the Divine, with God himself.