The Eleusinian Mysteries were not mere ritualistic performances or theoretical exercises; they were profound, transformative experiences that shaped the initiates’ understanding of life, death, and the divine. These mysteries offered a sacred journey that required the mystai-the initiates-to undergo psychological, emotional, and spiritual trials. Engaging with first-person accounts, we gain insight into these experiences, revealing how they reshaped one’s worldview and provided a deeper comprehension of existence.
To fully appreciate the Mysteries, we must explore both the stages of the rites and the personal impact they had on participants. By understanding the rituals as lived, transformative processes, we can grasp the philosophical depth of these experiences and their relevance beyond the religious sphere.
The Days of the Mysteries
The Eleusinian Mysteries unfolded over nine days, each with its own set of rituals and symbolic actions that led initiates through a process of purification, revelation, and transformation. The rites began on Boedromion 15 (which occurred on the full moon in late September through early October in the contemporary calendar), when Athens came alive with anticipation. As the sun rose, the city hummed with quiet energy. Merchants opened their stalls, initiates gathered, and the scent of laurel and pine filled the air. The streets of Athens echoed with the growing excitement of the upcoming Mysteries, a reminder that these were not just sacred rites but communal events that connected the city with its divine protectors (Aristophanes, Frogs, 372-375).
The first official moment came with the proclamation by the Hierokeryx, the sacred herald, who called out: “Let all who are pure of heart and free from pollution come forward. Let those tainted by death, and those who do not speak our tongue, depart.” The Mysteries demanded spiritual and physical purity from their participants, emphasizing the importance of inner readiness before embarking on the sacred journey (Aristides, Panathenaic Oration, 187). For the mystai, this was the first of many thresholds they would cross, both literally and figuratively.
On the second day, Boedromion 16, the initiates were instructed to purify themselves in the sea, carrying with them squealing piglets-symbols of the impurities they wished to wash away. Immersing themselves in the cold waters, they cleansed their bodies and souls, preparing for the sacrifices that would follow (Clement of Alexandria, Exhortation to the Greeks, II.18). The immersion in water is significant; it mirrors the process of katharsis, a purification that was both physical and spiritual. The sharp shock of the cold water symbolized a rebirth, an important element in the Mysteries, which emphasized renewal and transformation.
Boedromion 17 was the day of sacrifices. In front of the Eleusinion, the marble altar gleamed under the sun as oxen, goats, and pigs were led to the priests. The sacrificial rites marked a reciprocal relationship between the initiates and the gods-do ut des (I give so that you might give). The blood of the sacrifices was seen as purifying the altar, ensuring the favor of the gods, particularly Demeter, goddess of the harvest (Lactantius, Divine Institutes, I.21). The scent of burning flesh filled the air, a visceral reminder of the gods’ power and the fragile relationship between mortals and the divine.
The Sacred Procession to Eleusis
The journey to Eleusis on Boedromion 19 marked a major transition in the Mysteries, both physically and symbolically. Beginning at the Dipylon Gate, the initiates tied saffron-colored ribbons to their wrists and ankles, a symbol of the sacred journey they were about to undertake. At the head of the procession was a wooden statue of Iacchos, the youthful god of ecstasy and joy, swaying slightly on a cart pulled by garlanded oxen (Aristophanes, Frogs, 317-318).
This procession was more than a physical movement; it was a passage from the profane to the sacred. As they chanted “Iacchos! Iacchos!” initiates began their transition into a different state of being, leaving behind the everyday world. The crossing of the Kephisos River was particularly significant. One initiate described the scene:
“We came to the river, its waters rushing wildly beneath the narrow bridge. The crowd slowed, almost hesitant. Above us, figures-masked and mischievous-emerged from the trees, shouting insults and playful jabs at those among us who held high offices or were well-known. Laughter erupted, breaking the tension. In that moment, the boundary between life and death felt closer, as if we were crossing into another realm, leaving behind the familiar and stepping into the unknown” (Scholiast on Aristophanes’ Frogs, 158).
The jests of the masked figures symbolized the blurring of boundaries-between life and death, sacred and profane. The crossing of the river was more than a geographical moment; it was a passage into a new spiritual phase. This reflects what anthropologist Arnold van Gennep describes as the “liminal phase” in rites of passage, where participants are between two states of being, no longer their former selves but not yet transformed (van Gennep, The Rites of Passage, p. 21).
The Telesterion and the Revelation of the Hiera
The culmination of the Mysteries occurred at the Telesterion on Boedromion 21, the climax of the initiates’ journey, a moment filled with awe and terror. The mystai entered the sanctuary, torches flickering in the darkness, the air heavy with incense. The Hierophant, hidden beneath a mask, chanted in a low voice that resonated through the stone hall, revealing the hiera-the sacred objects (Aelius Aristides, Panathenaic Oration, 187).
One initiate described this moment:
We were led into the Telesterion, the darkness enveloping us. The air was heavy with incense, and the only light came from the flickering torches. Suddenly, the Hierophant appeared, his face hidden beneath a mask, his voice a low chant that seemed to resonate within the very stones of the temple. He revealed the hiera, the sacred objects, and in that moment, it was as if the darkness itself split open, and we were flooded with light. I cannot describe what we saw-it was something beyond words, something that touched the very core of my being. It was as if, for the briefest moment, I glimpsed the eternal” (Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies, V.3).
The revelation of the hiera was more than a display of sacred objects; it was a moment of hierophany-a divine manifestation. Mircea Eliade, a scholar of religion, describes hierophany as a moment when the sacred becomes manifest in the material world (Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane, p. 11). For the initiates, this was an encounter with the divine, a moment that transcended rational understanding and reached into the ineffable. The light that burst forth at the climax of the Mysteries was a symbol of divine truth, revealing the eternal secrets of life and death.
The Philosophical Dimensions of the Mysteries
The Eleusinian Mysteries were not merely religious rites but deeply philosophical experiences. Aristotle noted that the mystai “were not intended to learn anything, but to suffer something,” emphasizing the emotional and experiential nature of the Mysteries (Aristotle, preserved in Synesius’ Dion, c. 7). This idea aligns with the Greek concept of pathos, where transformation comes through suffering and emotional engagement rather than intellectual learning. The mystai did not leave the Telesterion with new knowledge in a traditional sense, but with a transformed understanding.
This transformation is key to understanding the Mysteries as a preparation for death. As Plutarch wrote, the Mysteries mirrored the process of dying: initiates experienced terror and disorientation, followed by a revelation of light and the promise of renewal (Plutarch, On the Soul, quoted by Stobaeus, Florigelium 120). The Mysteries thus offered initiates a glimpse of the afterlife, a sense that death was not an end but a transformation. This cyclical understanding of life, death, and rebirth was central to the philosophy of the Eleusinian rites, connecting them to broader Greek philosophical traditions, especially those concerning the soul’s immortality.
Kykeon and Altered States of Consciousness
An essential part of the Mysteries was the consumption of the kykeon, a sacred drink made from barley, water, and mint. Some scholars, such as Wasson, Hofmann, and Ruck, have speculated that the kykeon may have had psychoactive properties, contributing to the altered states of consciousness experienced during the rites (Wasson, Hofmann, and Ruck, The Road to Eleusis, p. 21). This aligns with the transformative nature of the Mysteries, where initiates were led into an altered mental and emotional state, preparing them for the climactic revelation.
Conclusion: A Journey Beyond
The Eleusinian Mysteries offered a profound journey of transformation. Through rituals of purification, sacrifice, and revelation, the mystai were led through a symbolic death and rebirth, emerging with a new understanding of existence. The rites transcended mere religious practice; they engaged with the deepest philosophical questions of life, death, and the divine.
For the mystai* the Eleusinian Mysteries provided an encounter with the sacred. As the veil between the mortal and divine was lifted, the initiates experienced a moment of aletheia, an unveiling of truth that would guide them for the rest of their lives.
Primary Sources
- The Mystai are not intended to learn anything, but to suffer something and
thus be made worthy. (Aristotle Preserved in Synesius Dion , c. 7.) - But I too have a seal, as a guard, upon my lips. (Aeschylus. Fragment of an uncertain play, Aeschylus, Fragment 72a, in Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, Vol. III, edited by Stefan Radt; also in Aeschylus: Fragments, Loeb Classical Library, Volume II, p. 486.Aeschylus, Volume II, Loeb Classical Library: London, 1926, p. 486.)
- Trygaeus: And is it so? And must I die indeed?
Hermes: You must indeed.
Trygaeus: O then, I prithee, lend me half a crown. I’ll buy a pig, and get initiated first.
(Aristophanes. The Peace 372-374) - Chorus: O Iacchus! O Iacchus! O Iacchus!
Xanthias: I have it, master: ’tis those blessed Mystics,…
Chorus: O Iacchus! Power excelling, here in stately temples dwelling.
O Iacchus! O Iacchus!
Come to tread this verdant level,
Come to dance in mystic revel,
Come whilst round thy forehead hurtles
Many a wreath of fruitful myrtles,
Come with wild and saucy paces
Mingling in our joyous dance,
Pure and holy, which embraces all the charms of all the Graces,
When the mystic choirs advance.
…Age forgets its years And sadness,
Aged knees curvet for gladness,
Lift thy flashing torches o’er us,
Marshall all thy blameless train,
Lead, O lead the way before us; lead the lovely youthful Chorus
To thy marshy flowery plain.
All evil thoughts and profane be still: far hence, far hence from our choirs depart,
Who knows not well what the Mystics tell, or is not holy And pure of heart;
Who ne’er has the noble revelry learned, or danced the dance of the Muses high;
Or shared in the Bacchic rites which old bull-eating Cratinus’s words supply…
…to these I utter my warning cry,
I charge them once, I charge them twice, I charge them thrice, that they draw not nigh
To the sacred dance of the Mystic choir. But you, my comrades, awake the song,
The night-long revels of joy and mirth whichever of right to our feast belong.
Advance, true hearts, advance!
On to the gladsome powers,
On to the sward, with flowers
Embosomed bright!
March on with jest, and jeer, and dance,
Full well ye’ve supped tonight.
March, chanting loud your lays,
Your hearts and voices raising,
The Savior goddess praising
Who vows she’ll still
Our city save to endless days,
Whate’er Thorycion’s will
Break off the measure, and change the time; and now with chanting and hymns adorn
Demeter, goddess mighty and high, the harvest-queen, the giver of corn.
O Lady, over our rites presiding,
Preserve and succor thy coral throng,
And grant us all, in thy help confiding,
To dance and revel the whole day long;
And much in earnest, and much in jest,
Worthy thy feast, may we speak therein.
And when we have bantered and laughed our best,
The victor’s wreath be it ours to win.
Call we now the youthful god, call him hither without delay,
Him who travels amongst his chorus, dancing along on the Sacred Way…
(Aristophanes. The Frogs 317-318, 323-413, 440-459) - With bright flashes, the torches’ might. (Aeschylus, Fragment 314, quoted in the Scholia on Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus, line 1047, in Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, Vol. III, edited by Stefan Rad; Fragment 214 Scholiast on Sophocles, Oedipus Coloneus, 1047.)
- In regard to the dance in which kerna were carried, I know that they carried lights or small hearths on their heads. (Pollux, Onomasticon, Book IV, Chapter 103, in the Teubner edition edited by Erich Bethe.)
- And the formula of the Eleusinian mysteries is as follows: “I fasted, I drank the draught (kykeon ); I took from the chest; having done my task, I placed in the basket, and from the basket into the chest. (Clement of Alexandria, Exhortation to the Greeks II, 18)
- Lo, the house is frenzied with the god, the roof revels, Bacchant-like.(Aeschylus, Fragment 62, from Edonians, in Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, Vol. III, edited by Stefan Radt; Loeb Classical Library, Volume II, p. 400.)
- In the Mysteries of Demeter all night long with torches kindled they seek for Persephone and when she is found, the whole ritual closes with thanksgiving and the tossing of torches. (Lactantius, Divine Institutes, Book I, Chapter 21, in the Fathers of the Church series, translated by Mary Francis McDonald.)
- a rude and fearful march through night and darkness. (Stobaeus, Anthology, Book IV, Chapter 52, Section 49, in the edition by Curt Wachsmuth and Otto Hense.)
- Thus death and initiation closely correspond; even the words (teleutan and teleisthai) correspond, And so do the things. At first there are wanderings, and toilsome running about in circles and journeys through the dark over uncertain roads and culs de sac; then, just before the end, there are all kinds of terrors, with shivering, trembling, sweating, and utter amazement. After this, a strange and wonderful light meets the wanderer; he is admitted into clean and verdant meadows, where he discerns gentle voices, and choric dances, and the majesty of holy sounds and sacred visions. Here the now fully initiated is free, and walks at liberty like a crowned and dedicated victim, joining in the revelry; he is the companion of pure and holy men, and looks down upon the uninitiated and unpurified crowd here below in the mud and fog, trampling itself down and crowded together, though of death remaining still sunk in its evils, unable to
believe in the blessings that lie beyond. That the wedding and close union of the soul with the body is a thing really contrary to nature may clearly be seen from all this. (The following passage from Plutarch’s essay On the Soul survives today only because it was quoted by Stobaeus (Florigelium 120). - Entering now into the secret dome, he is filled with horror and astonishment. He is seized with loneliness and total perplexity; he is unable to move a step forward, and at a loss to find the entrance to the way that leads to where he aspires to, till the prophet or conductor lays open the anteroom of the Temple. (Themistius, Orations, Oration 5, Section 67, in Themistii Orationes, edited by Wilhelm Dindorf.)
- The Hierophant is accustomed to sound the gong when Kore is being invoked by name. (Apollodorus, Fragment 36, in Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker* (FGrHist), No. 244 F36, edited by Felix Jacoby.)
- Eleusis is a shrine common to the whole earth and, of all the divine things that exist among men, it is both the most awe-inspiring and the most luminous. In what place in the world have more miraculous tales been sung, where have the rites called forth greater emotion, where has there been a greater rivalry between seeing and hearing? (Aelius Aristides, Panathenaic Oration (Oration 13), Section 187, in Aelius Aristides: The Complete Works, Volume II, translated by Charles A. Behr.)
- It was the common belief in Athens that whoever had been taught the Mysteries would, when he died, be deemed worthy of divine glory. Hence all were eager for initiation. (Scholiast on Aristophanes The Frogs 158)
- All who use such rites experience relief mixed with pleasure. (Aristotle, Poetics, Chapter 17, 1455a, in the Loeb Classical Library edition, translated by Stephen Halliwell.)
- In the most sacred Mysteries before the scene of the mystic visions, there is terror infused over the minds of the initiated. (Proclus, cited in Casavis The Greek Origins of Freemasonry. 111)
- The chaste heaven loves to violate the earth, and love lays hold on earth to join in wedlock. The rain from the streaming heaven falls down and impregnates the earth; and she brings forth her mortals the pasturage of sheep and Demeter’s sustenance; and the ripe season for the trees is perfected by the watery union. Of all this I am the cause. (Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists. XIII, 600b)
- Plemochoe is an earthen dish shaped like a top, but tolerably firm on its base;
some call it a kotyliskos, according to Pamphilus. They use it at Eleusis on the
last day of the Mysteries, a day which they call from it Plemochoai; on that day
they fill two plemochoai, and they invert them (standing up And facing the east
in the one case, the west in the other), reciting a mystical formula over them.
(Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists XI, 496a) - “It was as though I were a stranger to myself.” (Sopater?. Michael B
Cosmopoulos. Greek Mysteries: The Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek
Secret Cults. New York: Routledge, 2003, p. 178.)