IN PRAISE OF THE GREAT MOTHER

by H. Jeremiah Lewis

I know why they call you the Great Mother – Rhea, Cybele, Idaia or whatsoever thy name may be. You are the Mother of All Nations, the Queen whose Name is glorified everywhere and at every time.

You, Mother were the first, before you there were no gods. You brought all things into being and from your holy womb came the multitudes – stars, gods, men and all creatures that populate the world. We all share the same birth, the same flesh, the same Mother. It is to you that we return, when the measure of our days has been poured out. You are the comforter, and you welcome us back to you with wide-open arms. Mother, you are the end, and yet you promise us a new beginning as well – for in you all is made new.

Men know you by many names and  by  many  faces.  Sometimes  they  call  you “One”, sometimes “Many”. You are the fulfillment of the gods – you  are  the power by which they rule. This is why men  call  you  “Great”,  for  in  the world and among the gods you are indeed the Greatest.  Like  Zeus  you  have authority and power. Your words are commandments, and the  whole  of  nature hearkens to you. If you say  “Mountain,  be  lifted  up,”  the  earth  shall tremble and the great Parnassus shall be torn from its foundations and  hang in the air before you. If you say, “River, roll against  your  course,”  the water will leap at your word and rise like a salmon against the current.

And yet you are the one who set down Themis, who laid out  the  eternal  law by which even gods are bound to obey. With Pallas  you  are  the  keeper  of peace, and the protector of cities. You defend us from the wild  beast,  and the arrows of our enemies. You also assure that neighbors treat  each  other with civility, and that our appointed leaders govern us  according  to  your precepts.

The home is your primary concern, as it is with Hestia, and you watch  after women with a careful eye. You make sure  that  there  is  a  good  home  for children to be raised in; A clean place, with much  laughter  and  joy,  and always enough food for  their  bellies.  In  a  house  where  you  are  well honored, there is peace between  the  husband  and  wife  and  love  is  the foundation of the family.

But you watch over even the unhappy  family.  When  the  man  stumbles  home after too much time with Bacchus, you make sure that he  passes  out  before he can set into the woman, or you stop his angry hands from doing  too  much harm. Anyway, men like this usually die  early  and  leave  happy  widows  – which I think you have something to do with.

You are the Mother that Hera should be, for you do not make distinctions  in your love. All men and all gods are your children. You do not  pay  overmuch attention to our sins,  and  even  when  we  fall  short  of  our  goal  and disappoint you, your love is evident in  the  chastening  hand.  Men  should recognize that we share a common Mother and stop this endless bickering.  Do we think that it will make you love us any more?

Men and gods are not your only children. The animals share in your love,  as they share in Artemis’. You delight in the wild creatures, in the  lion  and the hound and the stag in the forest. You join them in  the  hunt,  in  wild dances through moonlit trees, and in the  tearing  of  raw  flesh.  You  are honored in the spilling of warm blood and in the glory of life continued.  I have seen you appear, goddess, in a swarm of bees and in  a  squirrel  in  a tree. You are the kitten’s warm underbelly, and the wise  old  crow  that  I share my lunch with.

That bread – I recognize as a gift from you, even as I give  it  to  you  as the crow. For you, goddess, as Demeter discovered and bestowed  to  man  the gift of grain, that we might put aside uncivilized fare, and eat  that  holy and nurturing food, bread. You have ordained that we should eat  other  food as well. Life-giving grains and fresh salads and grapes from  the  vine  and so much more. And all this bounty comes from you Mother,  for  you  are  the earth itself.

You are broad bosomed and firm of foundation, for  it  is  on  you  that  we build our homes and live out our lives. You rise  up  in  the  mighty  snowtopped  peaks, and you slope down into the gentle  valleys  rich  with  corn. The forest is one of your faces, and so  is  the  desert  valley.  A  single blossom reveals your presence in a barren field, and your hand  is  felt  in my garden. What extraordinary beauty you show to us  goddess,  it  fills  me with excitement just to think about it.

How like Aphrodite you are in this, for  love  of  the  general  can  easily shift to love of the specific. For instance, I hold in my heart  a  love  of all mankind, but when that pretty girl with the big brown eyes  comes  along it’s not her noble spirit that I am thinking about!  O  goddess,  thank  you for lust! When I am with my love, how  great  it  is  to  feel  your  warmth throughout my body, and to feel my flesh rise  under  your  gentle  coaxing. The smell of her hair, the taste of her  lips,  the  softness  of  the  skin beneath her knee, the breath she releases as I explore her body – these  all are sacraments and together we worship you, goddess, for  you  are  the  one who delights in life and all of its expression.

Though you share Poseidon’s realm, there is no animosity between you and Athena. Indeed, Mother, you are both wisdom and the inspiration of wisdom. All knowledge comes from you, especially the inspired and impassioned sort. You bring thoughtful men to greatness, and those that govern themselves according to your precepts are called “Wise”. You, Mother, are a Mystery. Only those who approach you with humbleness in their heart will gain an understanding of you, and even then, it will be a partial understanding – for you are too great to know in full. The fool approaches you boldly and proclaims that he knows all of your mysteries, but when questioned, he replies with nonsense. He knows nothing. (Although I know I’m right, I wonder if you give a special revelation to the fool. Is he more knowledgeable in your ways than I?  Would you tell me if it were so?)

Like the Muses you delight in music and in song, and you share these things with men. It was you who taught us to stretch skins across the drum, and to bring out its wonderful rhythms. You taught us to play on the pipes as well, and to chant hymns to you and your honor. This was the first music, and is still the best to my mind.

I shall come to you, Mother, whenever I am trying to craft a poem, and you will help me discover the right words and the right shape for the thing. This is how it has always been, even with this poem. It shall remain so forever.

The moon and the sun govern time, and you are revealed in both. Like the moon, you delight in torches, drums, and rituals at night. You, Mother, are many-formed like the moon, passing through one shape into another, embracing a multitude of meanings. You also govern magic, and bestow on your followers the utmost power. Your servants are only limited in what they can do by their imaginations, for you have taught them the secrets of the universe, and put into their hands the power to change their world.

Like the sun you are strong and all-powerful. You reach down and comfort us, pushing back the shadows that we might grow in the light. One may know that you are near by the attendant warmth and glow that can be found in only one other place – the sun. One of the greatest joys that I have had is to spend a day in the fields with a good book, lying out in the sun. This is another pleasure from you.

We come to you from diverse paths. War brings many, and disease. Old age is a great man-harvester, and so too the passions of youth which are frequently attended by folly and haste. You embrace all who come to you, Mother, and in your arms we find comfort and the pain that we felt in dying is gone. You wipe aside our tears, and sing to us comforting songs, for we are your children. All of the miseries that we felt in life, the pains and sorrows that continually assailed us are washed away in your embrace, and all that is left is joy. Death is not forever, and soon we are returned to the living, to struggle once more and to find joy in the moment.

In your many facets, you do not abandon those who are among the dead and those who are dying. No, you are with them ’till the end, and beyond. The soldiers laid out with their wounds too great, they call upon you, each one. “Mother,” they whisper and shout, as you walk among the line, offering what comfort you can. You stroke the cheek of this one, wiping the sweat from his brow, while the next man’s pain is too great, and all that you can do is close his eyes and help ease his way into Hades’ land.

You were with these brave young men when they were in  the  field,  and  you helped steady their spear and shield and urged them on  against  the  enemy. You made them noble, Mother, you filled their hearts with bravery  and  gave them strength to do what they must in this terrible situation. And if  their bravery began to wane, you were close at  hand,  riding  with  them  in  the chariot, marching with them through the mud.

To offer one’s life for the defense of another is the noblest thing  that  a man can do, and all who do so receive honors from you as well as from  Ares, for you, Mother, are the Queen of Hosts, and the defender of  the  innocent. You share with Hades the world below, and to you come all the multitudes  to be reborn. For the grave is your womb, and in its shadowed depths  men  find rebirth.

Another deep place that you rule is the sea. All waters belong to you, and their flow is governed by your hand. The mysteries of the ocean are your mysteries, and you know all that is hidden within them. You protect the ships on the surface, and many are your companions below the waves. The dolphin and octopus are most sacred to you, but you delight in all the creatures of the sea. It is fitting that this is one of your elements, for water sustains life. Without water nothing in the world could live. It is the same with you, Mother. No man could draw breath but for you.

This, then, is why they call you the Great Mother – for in all the world there is not another who possesses so much power and beauty, and unifies so many within herself. Blessed is the Mother, and blessed all who call upon her!