The worldview throughout the period of the Great Migrations had been animistic. The whole realm of nature was animated by spirits. During the later stages of this period, nature, while still animistic, was more and more seen as female – represented by the Venus figurines found in the 35,000-year-old caves of Cro-Magnon Man. Now with the dawn of the Neolithic era 14,000 years ago, the feminisation of nature became increasingly focused in the Mother Goddess, worshiped by these early villagers as the fruitful giver of life and of all that was needed to sustain them. She would become more central still in the worldviews yet to emerge in the civilizations of ancient Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Crete. We have no record of the names by which she was known prior to the invention of written language 5000 years ago – but some that were recorded after that date are Nammu, Utu, Inanna, Ishtar, Iahu, Astarte, Kali, Isis and Matrona. In ancient Greece they called her Gaia.
By whatever name, she was the bountiful goddess Earth – the mother and nourisher of life, and receiver of the dead for rebirth. She was not the supernatural creator of nature, but the creative force of nature itself. All nature was alive, engaged in the creative-destructive dance of life and death. Nature loved and raged at her human children, giving them ample reason to love, fear, and respect her. The plants and animals belonged to her. The forces of nature – sun and moon, winds and seas, mountains and rivers – were members of her holy family. The universe was not a mechanism as we think of it today, but a vast dramatic enterprise manifested primarily in the seasonal cycles on which these early farmers had come to depend. And it was all an expression of the abiding presence of the Great Mother.
The oldest-known man-made place of worship, dated to 9000 BCE, was the hilltop sanctuary of Gobekli Tepe in what is now southeast Turkey. And Jericho, one of the earliest Neolithic villages, grew up about 8000 BCE around a still-earlier shrine to the mother-goddess, where she was venerated through the offerings of fruits and flowers. From that time, and throughout the Neolithic era, she was many goddesses rolled into one – guardian of childbirth, dispenser of healing, fount of prophecy, lady of the beasts, giver of life and death – all different facets of a single power. But above all she was the goddess of fertility.
The miracle of the planted seed and fruitful earth, wherein death is transformed into life, was, to the Neolithic villager, the great mystery. And the myth that grew up around this mystery yielded a practice that would remain at the core of human culture for thousands of years – the practice of sacrifice. The thinking went like this. As rotting vegetation gives rise to new shoots, so death must be the giver of life. And if that is so, then the way to increase life is to increase death. Hence, in all planting cultures, we find the rites of human sacrifice by which this primal mythic scene is enacted literally.
The sacrifice, moreover, had to be a blood sacrifice, because blood was the substance of new life. According to the Neolithic understanding of reproduction, it was not the male semen but a transformation of blood that caused pregnancy. Observing that the menstrual blood flow continues each month except when the woman is pregnant, it must be this withheld blood that is being converted into new life – an idea supported by the obvious fact that the loss of blood leads to death. Just as the earth needs rain to bring forth crops, so the Great Mother needs blood to bring forth new life. Such is the logic behind the rites of human and animal sacrifice. The way to appease the Great Mother is to give her what she demands – blood! And invent a precise way in which to do it – ritual! In this way we can cooperate with the Great Mother to ensure fertility and life itself.
Over the course of time, human sacrifice became replaced by animal sacrifice – a change related in the Biblical account of God demanding that Abraham sacrifice his son Isaac and then changing his mind to allow a ram to be sacrificed instead. Later still, barter sacrifice became acceptable, as in the ritual of chopping off one’s finger joints. “I give you this joint,” ran a Crow Indian prayer to the Morning Star. “Give me something good in exchange.” But whatever the sacrifice, the intent was always the same – to appease the Great Mother or whatever deity was appropriate to the occasion.
The same thinking influenced the burial rituals of this time. As life springs from death in the plant world, so it is in the human world. The dead are buried to be born again. So this is the first era in which we find ceremonial graves as a common practice.
Between 4000 and 5000 BCE, we find the first evidence, especially in the Middle East, of fortified walls being built around these hitherto peaceful, goddess-worshiping villages. They were an unsuccessful defense against invading waves of nomadic hunters who came from desert regions in search of a better life and who brought with them their warring male sky deities. These invasions were the first expression of large-scale violence among humans. The conquering tribes, ruled by men and their male gods, stayed to form more complex social orders, strip women of their equal status, pursue their competitive interests, and build their kingdoms. As the villages grew into warring city states, the dominant cities so extended their control and imposed their customs on the surrounding territory as to become centres of power and government in what would become the great civilizations of Sumer, Assyria, Persia, and Egypt – ruled of course by male kings and pharaohs who had been anointed in their role by none other than the gods themselves. But that’s another story that we’ll leave for the next post.
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