Hymns, prayers, and miscellaneous formulas

 

Hymn to the Unconquered Sun, Mithras, Lord of the Sacred Rock
(As whispered in the shadowed vaults of the Mithraeum, beneath the wheeling stars, in the Year of the Consulship of Severus and Victorinus)

O Mithras, thou invincible Bull-Slayer, whose brows are crowned with the diadem of the celestial spheres! Thee, we acclaim, who dost straddle the chasm betwixt the writhing earth and the empyrean’s cold fire, thy dagger aflame with the primal ichor of creation. From the dark womb of the cosmic cavern, thou didst emerge, thy mantle sewn with the glimmering threads of dawn, thy breath the wind that stirs the lanterns of the firmament.

Behold! Thy hand, unyielding as the adamant, grips the crescent horns of the First Beast, whose thrashing limbs did churn the void to substance. The blood of that divine struggle falls as a scarlet rain upon the parched soil of mortal souls, quickening the seeds of virtue in the breasts of thy elect. By thy deed, the axis of the world is fixed; by thy grace, the labyrinthine paths of the sevenfold spheres are made plain to those who bear the torch of initiation.

Thou, who art both shepherd and soldier, guide thy flock through the umbral valleys where specters of dissolution howl. Forge in our sinews the strength of the legionary, in our hearts the purity of the unveiled star. Let the sacred feast of thy triumph—bread and wine, flesh and spirit—kindle within us the unextinguishable light, that we may walk, undaunted, through the serpent-coiled trials of earthly existence.

O Light-Bringer, whose chariot is the sun, whose quiver holds the arrows of truth, pierce the veils of falsehood that shroud the minds of the unillumined! To thee, the watchful Cautes lifts his flame at the gates of morning; to thee, the somber Cautopates lowers his taper at the threshold of night. Thou art the balance wherein time and eternity meet, the key that unbars the silent doors beyond the moon’s pale dominion.

We, the brotherhood of the sacred tauroctony, whose brows are marked with the rubied chrism of thy covenant, implore thee: Sustain us in the hour of our mortal frailty. Let the echoes of thy subterranean victories resound in the chambers of our resolve. As the wheeling eagle ascends to thy solar throne, so uplift our souls, scrubbed clean by the rites of fire and water, to partake in the unending symposium of the immortals.

Mithras, Unconquered! To thee, the legion of the twilight sings—a hymn woven not with mortal words, but with the silent awe of the initiated, whose eyes have glimpsed the midnight sun. Deus Sol Invictus, accept this whispered offering, borne upon the wings of votive incense, from thy servants who dwell in the shadow of thy glory, awaiting the dawn that knows no end.

A mystery invocation of Mithras

Hark, ye Mystai, within this sacred cavern, this sculptured adytum where the very stone breathes with the numinous presence of the Unconquered God! Let the profane be far removed, their ears deaf to our hallowed syllables, their eyes blind to the refulgent glories that are to be unveiled. We, the Syndexioi, bound by the sacred oath and the shared repast, gather under the benevolent gaze of the Pater Patrum, he who hath guided us from the shadows of the Corax to the luminous station we now humbly occupy.

Attend now, with souls purified and spirits attent, as we invoke the mighty, the bull-slaying Mithras, Deus Invictus, Solis Comes! From the very rock, Thou wert born, a generative miracle, not of woman engendered but by the Petra Genetrix itself, a testament to Thy primeval power, Thy self-sufficient majesty. No swaddling clothes confined Thy nascent glory, but rather the Phrygian cap, emblem of Thy cosmic regency, and the dagger, instrument of the fated Tauroctony, were Thy immediate panoply.

Who can recount Thy labours, O Lord of Light? Thou didst traverse the celestial spheres, Thy passage marked by the silent revolution of the zodiacal signs, those mute witnesses to Thy eternal journey. With Sol, the radiant Helios, hast Thou entered into communion, a sacred banquet shared, a concord established between the temporal fire and the everlasting flame. His charioteer art Thou, and He Thy steadfast companion, a divine synergia for the benefit of the cosmos.

Consider, O brethren of the Seventh Grade, the awesome spectacle of the Transitus, when the bull, that potent symbol of terrestrial energy and untamed nature, was by Thee pursued, captured, and borne upon Thy Herculean shoulders into this very Spelaeum, a simulacrum of the greater cave of the world. There, under the watchful eyes of Cautes, his torch raised to signify the ascendant dawn and the waxing of life, and Cautopates, his torch inverted, heralding the dusk and the necessary descent, the great deed was consummated. With steadfast gaze fixed upon Sol, Thy hand, unerring and divinely impelled, plunged the blade into the flank of the beast.

From that font of sacrificial blood, what wonders did not spring forth? The wheat from the tail, promise of sustenance; the vine from the sanguine stream, foreshadowing the sacred libation that gladdens the hearts of the initiated. The Dog, faithful companion, leapt to partake of the vital essence, whilst the Scorpion, dark agent of evil forces, sought in vain to poison the wellspring of generation. But Thy act, O Mithras, was one of cosmic redemption, a transformation of death into life, a salvific immolation ensuring the perpetuity of the universe and the nourishment of all that exists.

Therefore, O unconquered Mithras, First Light, Mediator between the inaccessible Deus Optimus Maximus and us, Thy humble votaries; Thou who art the Aion, the very Lord of Ages; look with favour upon this congregation in Alexandria, a city of myriad doctrines yet singular in its devotion to Thy mysteries. As we have partaken of the hallowed bread and the consecrated wine, symbols of Thy life-giving sacrifice, strengthen our spirits in the path of righteousness. Grant unto us the steadfastness of the rock from which Thou wert born, the courage to face the trials of the Milites, the wisdom of the Perses, and the purity of the Heliodromus. May our souls, having traversed the planetary spheres, ascend to Thy luminous presence, there to dwell in everlasting communion. Fiat, fiat, fiat.

A hymn to Mithras:

Illustrious Mithras, guardian of light and truth, who by Thy radiant power governs the heavens, the earth, and the underworld. Thou who dost illuminate the vast celestial sphere, whom dread Necessity obeys, eternal and self-created, by whose decree all things come to pass. Thou who commandest the winds and dost cloak the firmament with Thy bright rays, piercing the boundless expanse of the heavens with Thy glorious light.

Thy will directs the unerring paths of the stars. Around Thy blazing altar stand hosts of tireless servants to whom are entrusted the destinies of humankind. Thy spring emerges adorned with vivid blossoms; Thy autumn bestows upon us its bounteous harvest; Thy winter approaches with its crisp and serene majesty. We call upon Thee, mighty Mithras, supreme among the divine, awe-inspiring, invincible, incorruptible, eternal, crowned with the everlasting light of the cosmos.

O Mithras, Monarch of the radiant sun and shadowed cave, who by Thy light movest the celestial dome, whom the host of the celestials revere, whom even the eternal fates obey, immortal, rock-born, by whose will all things ascend and descend, who guidest the stars and coverest the world with Thy divine glow, piercing the vast expanse of heaven with Thy fiery beams. Thy commandment shines forth in the unchanging orbits of the celestial spheres. Around Thy brilliant throne stand armies of devoted initiates to whom are committed the mysteries of existence.

Thy spring illuminates with flowers of hope; Thine autumn bestows the fruits of wisdom; Thy winter enshrouds with its serene and contemplative stillness. We address Thee, almighty Mithras, great God of Light, mediator, invincible, incorruptible, immortal, crowned with the eternal sun.

Mithras Hymn

O Mithras, from the unyielding flint of the Petra Genetrix miraculously forced, Thou didst burst forth upon a nascent world, a naked babe, save for the Phrygian cap that bespoke Thy stellar origins, Thy hands unburdened yet already wielding the dagger of sacrifice and the torch of dawning illumination! Upon that day, the twenty-fifth of December’s sacred count, when Sol himself doth turn his chariot anew, Thy festival we keep, celebrating Thine advent, Thou, Genitor Luminis, true Begetter of the Light that pierces the primordial gloom. The very rock of Thy nativity, a symbol of the firmament whence all light descends, did blaze with empyrean fire, yea, flames did shoot from its surface and from Thy star-studded cap, an emblem of the celestial vault itself!

Before Thee, even at Thy birth, O Deus Genitor Rupe Natus, the gods of the four winds and the ancient elements did bow in homage, for in Thy infant grasp Thou didst already hold the globe, emblem of cosmic empery, Thy fingers tracing the grand circumferent zodiac. Equipped Thou wert, in that first instant, with bow and arrow, prepared for the feats of Thy divine nature: the striking of the barren rock, whence gushed the life-sustaining spring to succor thirsting mankind, a miracle echoing through the arid wastes of doubt; and the relentless hunt, wherein Thy unerring shafts sought out the powers of darkness that roam the wild.

Thee we acclaim, Thou mighty Hunter, whose steed, swift as the celestial coursers, did bear Thee through forests of cypress, Thy cloak flying as a banner in the wind of Thy passage! Before Thy sacred bow, the boar, that earthly shadow of daimonic malice, did fall, and the fleet gazelle knew the certainty of Thine aim. For Thou art the champion of Truth and Justice, the protector of Thy martial cohort, the Milites, who look to Thee as their invincible commander in life’s arduous campaign.

And who shall recount in full measure, O Lord, Thy labors with the Bull, that primordial beast of immense power? Thou didst pursue it, not as a common thief, as ignorant tongues have dared to fable, but as the divine agent of a yet greater creation. The Transitus Dei, Thy passage with the ponderous weight of the Bull upon Thy mighty shoulders, like unto Herakles with his Erymanthian burden, didst Thou accomplish with steadfast will, bearing it towards the destined cave. There, in that sacrosanct recess, the Tauroctony, that sublime and terrible sacrifice, was performed. From the Bull’s eternal blood, shed by Thy reluctant yet obedient hand at Sol’s behest, borne by the swift-winged Raven, did spring forth the myriad forms of life, the grains and herbs, and salvation for the souls of men.

With Sol, Thy radiant companion, Thou didst forge a pact eternal, sharing the sacred meal within the grotto’s shadowed light. Bread Thou didst break, and the sacred cup, potent with wine or the pure water of Thy miracle, didst Thou share, a divine repast that Thy followers enact in holy imitation, seeking rebirth and the promise of eternal light. With Him, Thy labors on this terrestrial sphere concluded, Thou didst ascend in the fiery chariot, returning to the stellar realms, a beacon of hope for every initiate who yearns for his own soul’s return to the effulgent glory of the Unconquered Sun.

Around Thee stand Cautes and Cautopates, Thy torch-bearing attendants, the one with flame uplifted, heralding the orient dawn and nascent life, the other with torch reversed, signifying the occidental dusk and the soul’s solemn journey. With Thee they form a trinity most sacred, governing the stations of the sun: the morning, the midday, and the eventide.

Therefore, O Mithras, Deus Sol Invictus, Lord of the way to the imperishable stars, Guardian of the Seven Grades through which we, Thy humble servants, strive towards liberation! From Corax unto Pater, each step illumed by Thy example. Accept this our hymn, not as a perfect tribute, for what mortal words can compass Thy divinity? But as the earnest outpouring of hearts dedicated to Thy service, within these walls that echo the mystery of the cosmos itself. Grant us strength in our trials, wisdom in our understanding, and the ultimate grace of Thy saving light, now and for all eternity.

Mithras aretalogy:

I am Mithras, Master and Guardian of the sacred Covenant. My nativity was not of mortal woman, nay, but I sprang forth miraculously from the solid rock, wielding from that very moment with the celestial torch and the sacrificial blade, a veritable beacon issued from the firmament itself.

By mine own hand and sacred arrow did I command the living waters to burst forth from the unyielding stone, thereby providing succour to my devoted followers. Yea, I pursued and mastered that great Bull of Creation, the first beast of the cosmos. Though my spirit recoiled, obeying the divine imperative, I plunged my dagger into its mighty flank within the consecrated cavern, averting mine eyes from the fateful stroke. From this profound sacrifice, life itself was renewed upon the Earth: the wholesome grain, the fruitful vine, and all manner of earthly bounty proceeded therefrom.

I stand as the vigilant Guardian of all compacts and solemn oaths, the all-seeing Watcher whom no falsehood may deceive. Upon monarchs deemed worthy, I bestow the divine favour, lending legitimacy unto their reign. I am the staunch Protector of the righteous soldier, imparting strength in the fray and fostering loyalty amongst brethren sworn to my cause. With Sol, my celestial brother and companion, do I partake of the hallowed feast, and with him did I ascend unto the highest heavens within his chariot of fire.

I am the appointed Mediator betwixt the empyrean heights and the terrestrial sphere. Unto mankind did I establish the sacred Mysteries and the sevenfold path of initiation, whereby my adherents might climb, duly purged and sanctified, unto divine understanding. I am the sovereign Lord of Light, perpetually restraining the encroaching powers of darkness. It was I who imposed order upon the cosmos, causing even the steadfast celestial pole to shift at my command, and who doth maintain its harmonious revolution. Justice and Truth are my very essence. I commend temperance, fortitude, and the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood.

Within subterranean grottos, fashioned as emblems of the firmament, do mine initiates convene to share the ritual repast. Across the vast frontiers of the Empire, soldiers invoke my name, seeking courage in adversity and surety upon their path. In my presence, faithfulness doth ever triumph over perfidy. I am the very potency within the sun's life-giving rays. Whatsoever I decree, that shall inevitably come to pass. For those who walk in righteousness, I shatter the chains of destiny.

Therefore, hail! O Rome, thou heart of Empire, wherein my legions bear aloft my standard of invincible light!

Hail, O Terra, that receives my light! Hail, O initiates, who know my mysteries!

Mithraic mystery discourse

I am the echoing voice within the hidden sanctuaries, a herald of the eternal flame that pierces the veil of darkness. From the celestial heights, I descend, a mediator between the realms, guiding the worthy through the sacred rites of initiation.

Lo, I am Mithras, the unconquered Sun, born from the primordial rock, companion to the celestial bull. In the silence of the caverns, I reveal the mysteries to those who seek the path of light. Through the labyrinthine passages, the initiate journeys, shedding the shadows of ignorance to embrace the radiant truth.

Seven are the grades of initiation, mirroring the seven celestial spheres through which the soul must ascend. First is the Raven, the messenger of the gods, heralding the beginning of wisdom. Second, the Bridegroom, uniting the earthly and the divine. Third, the Soldier, embodying courage and discipline in the face of adversity. Fourth, the Lion, symbol of strength and nobility, guardian of the sacred fire. Fifth, the Persian, keeper of ancient wisdom and sacred traditions. Sixth, the Heliodromus, the Sun-runner, who follows the path of the celestial bodies. Seventh, the Father, who embodies the culmination of divine knowledge and guides others on the sacred path.

In the depths of the earth, the sacred Tauroctony unfolds—the slaying of the cosmic bull, a divine act that brings forth life from the wellspring of creation. From the bull’s blood springs the vine, from its seed the creatures of the earth. The serpent coils at my feet, symbol of rebirth and eternal life. The dog gazes upward, a faithful companion, partaking in the sacred sacrifice. The scorpion grasps the bull’s genitals, representing the earthly desires that must be transcended.

Witness the torchbearers, Cautes and Cautopates, standing vigilant at dawn and dusk. Cautes raises his torch, signaling the ascension of the soul towards enlightenment. Cautopates lowers his torch, marking the descent into introspection and the depths of the subconscious. Together, they embody the duality of existence—the eternal cycle of life and death, light and darkness.

The cosmos is a grand web woven with the threads of fate and destiny. Twelve are the signs of the Zodiac, encircling the heavens, each a gate through which the soul must pass. By understanding their influence, the initiate harmonizes with the cosmic order, transcending the mundane to grasp the eternal.

The sacred meal is shared—a communion of bread and wine—symbols of sustenance and the divine blood that flows through all life. In the sharing, the initiates become one with each other and with the divine essence of Mithras, forging an unbreakable bond.

Through trials and tribulations, the spirit is tempered. The initiate confronts the elements—earth, water, air, and fire—each a crucible that refines the soul. In the ritual of the crypt, the neophyte faces death and emerges reborn, shedding the old self to embrace the new.

The Sun’s journey across the sky mirrors the soul’s path towards enlightenment. As the Sun conquers the darkness each dawn, so does the initiate overcome the shadows within. The cycle of the seasons reflects the inner transformations—the blooming of knowledge, the harvest of wisdom, the shedding of illusions, and the quiet incubation of new insights.

Guardians of the mysteries stand watch—the protectors of sacred knowledge. They are the stars that guide the way, the whispers in the wind that carry ancient truths. The soul, attuned to their subtle messages, navigates the celestial maze towards unity with the divine.

Embrace the silence where the deepest truths reside. In the stillness of the inner sanctum, the whispers of the cosmos can be heard. The heart becomes the altar upon which the sacred flame burns, illuminating the path ahead.

Thus, the mysteries of Mithras are unveiled—not through words alone, but through the lived experience of the sacred rites. The path is steep and narrow, but the rewards are beyond measure. The initiate becomes the bridge between heaven and earth, a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness.

May those who seek find, and those who find be transformed. Let the eternal flame of Mithras burn brightly within, guiding the soul through the celestial spheres to the realm of everlasting light. In unity with the Unconquered Sun, the cycle is complete, and the soul rests in the embrace of the divine.

Let this sacred discourse be a lamp unto your feet, a map for the journey that lies ahead. The mysteries beckon, the path awaits. Step forth with courage and conviction, and the secrets of the ages will be revealed.

Invocation of the Dual Torches, Under the Aeegis of Mithras

O Mithras, Sol Invictus, whose brow is crowned with the unwaning stars, herken! Thy votary, trembling 'neath the vault of night, doth summon the Twin Flames, Cautes and Cautopates, whose torches cleave the veil betwixt becoming and dissolution.

Lo! Cautes, whose saffron-lit brand ascendeth as the lark at morn —thy flame, effulgent and unquenchable, doth pierce the umbral shroud. By thy grace, let life’s vigour surge as Taurus in the vernal mead; let thy dawn-kissed hand guide the seeker through labyrynthine trials, where the Scorpion’s sting lurks in shadow. Grant us, O Herald of Ascension, the fortitude to tread the sunward path, where the Seven Spheres chant thy hidden names.

And thou, Cautopates, somber brother, whose torch dips low as the weary sun to Lethe’s bourne—thy flame, a pallid crescent, whispers of rest beyond the mortal fray. By thy mercy, still the clamor of the profane world; let thy dusk-drenched taper shepherd the soul through twilight’s veil, where the Serpent’s coils embrace the mysteries of ends and beginnings. Bestow the solace of silence, that we may hear the echo of Aion’s sigh.

O Mithras, whose foot crushes the Bull of Chaos, bind these twain powers—ascension and repose—within thy votary’s breast. Let Cautes’ fervor and Cautopates’ hush commingle as incense spirals 'neath the sacred grotto’s dome. As the tauroctony’s blade spills forth the cosmic dew, so let our spirits be nourished by equipoise.

By the Lion’s roar, by the Raven’s flight, by the imperishable pact sealed in astral fire—fiat mysterium!