Leonard said that although the
suggestion that Jesus was empowered by the spirits of the dead might sound
ridiculous to the modern reader, it would have been perfectly acceptable to a
first century audience, particularly given the wealth of stories involving the
magical employment of the souls of the violently killed and the untimely dead that
were in circulation throughout the ancient world. “The ‘untimely’ dead?” I
asked, “what difference does time make? Is there a ‘timely’ dead?”. Leonard was
amused by my question and he explained that numerous civilisations throughout
history have feared the souls of those who have met a violent or early demise.
And the rationale behind this was fascinating…
He told me that the ancients believed that if a person’s soul was taken
from the body too early or by violence then the soul would be bound to the
earth where it would co-exist amongst the living and cause all kinds of
mischievous and malicious harm. He said that stories concerning the earth-bound
nature of these souls may have arisen from physical examinations of the corpses
of individuals who had experienced a sudden death since modern medical studies reveal
that the bodies of individuals who have died suddenly or suffered a violent
death tend to behave abnormally after death; not only do these corpses
decompose at a slower rate but it is not uncommon for the blood inside the body
to reliquify. An observer who is not acquainted with this unusual post-mortem
phenomenon might conclude that a dead body is still alive, since it would
appear fresher than expected and it would bleed when cut. Leonard seemed to
know an enormous amount about the behaviour of the body after death, which
would have sounded very unnerving coming from anyone else!
Leonard went on to explain that the second-century Christian writer
Tertullian assigned these unfortunate souls to two categories: those who had
died before the completion of their apportioned time on earth (which he called
the ‘aoroi’) and those that had been killed by violence such as suicide or
murder (which he called the ‘biaiothanatoi’). Since both the aoroi and
biaiothanatoi were thought to be embittered by their premature and unnatural cause
of death, they were believed to be particularly vengeful towards the living and
this hostility towards the living made them particularly keen to lend their
assistance to deviant and coercive magical activities such as curses and love
charms. In fact these aoroi and biaiothanatoi spirits were considered to be so
valuable that if one could not be found then one would be made and there are
reports of magicians carrying out human sacrifice in order to create a restless
and powerful spirit (this is probably the origin of the rumour that Simon Magus
performed his miracles using the soul of a murdered boy that he created out of
thin air and promptly sacrificed).
Leonard said that similar beliefs
regarding the restless dead were alive and kicking, if you excuse the pun, in
the New Testament era and to illustrate his point he drew my attention to the
account of the Gerasene demoniac in chapter five of the Gospel of Mark. The
author of Mark tells us that the Gerasene demoniac has been living amongst the
tombs of the dead and therefore an early reader of the Gospels who was
acquainted with the superstitious fears surrounding the restless dead would
infer that his possessed state is attributable to the fact that he has been
exposed to hostile earth-bound spirits that are forced to remain within the
vicinity of their graves. Leonard also mentioned that the identification of the
spirits in the passage as ‘Legion’ is particularly significant as soldiers and
men killed in battle were deemed to be the most fearful of the restless dead since
not only did they suffer a violent death but their bodies often remained
unburied and unidentified on the battlefield and this disrespectful treatment
of the corpse was thought to contribute to the spirit’s anger and restlessness.
I was a little puzzled by this digression into the world of the dead until
Leonard explained that Jesus’ contemporaries would have been familiar with these
popular beliefs regarding the violently and untimely killed and Herod may well
be referring to these superstitions when he explicitly states, in Mark’s
version of the story, that ‘John, whom I
beheaded, has been raised from the dead’. Leonard said that the souls of
the beheaded were considered to be particularly fearsome and vengeful and stories
of headless demons were commonplace in the ancient world (particularly in
Hellenistic Egypt), therefore it is highly likely that the circumstances of
John’s death would have been particularly significant for the early reader of
the Gospels who would have understood that John’s violent demise satisfied the requirements
for the creation of a powerful biaiothanatos spirit that was ripe for
exploitation by any competent magician - or by Jesus, as Herod suggests in this
particular case.
Leonard’s lecture on the magical employment of the restless dead was
very interesting I must admit, but amidst this talk of violent and premature
death I couldn’t help but reflect on the death of my brother Daniel. I realise
that there is never any certainty when it comes to matters of the afterlife, but
Daniel died in violent circumstances and my family and friends undoubtedly believe
that he died before his naturally appointed time. Consequently I cannot help
but wonder whether Tertullian is to be believed and Daniel’s spirit is not at
peace. It must be terrible to be trapped in between worlds. And what an equally
terrible thought that is for us, the loved ones left behind.
I was curious to hear more on the subject but the grandfather clock chimed
the hour in the hallway at that point and I realised that I had lost track of
time. The rain was still beating against the workroom window and I desperately
wanted to continue our conversation, but it was getting dark outside and I knew
that Alex would be furious if I returned home late once again. My questions could
wait until our next sitting and I certainly had enough to think about for one
day, so I made my apologies, gathered my bag together and stood to leave.
Leonard accompanied me into the hallway – as he always does at the end of our
sessions – and he handed me one of the many black umbrellas in the wooden hat
stand by the door. I thanked him, said my goodbyes and stepped out of Elmfield
House into the heavy downpour. It was dreadful weather, but I had not
anticipated that the rain would be the least uncomfortable aspect of my journey
home...
