Apophis, also known as Apep, dating back into the 1500s BCE,
was the great water serpent god who slept in the mountains of Baku, rising with
the morning star, daily attacks Ra on his journeys through the daytime sky and
the underworld, and is subsequently destroyed each evening by Sobek, the god of
the crocodiles.
As we have seen in most other religions and cultures thus far,
the serpent seems to always hold some chthonic symbolism—that underworld
characterization as the giver of life, possessing the creator aspect that seems
ever present wherever the serpent is worshipped. Nowhere is this so evident and
pervasive than in the mysticism of ancient Egyptian religion and worship. In
the mythology and symbolism of Egypt exist some of the most glaring dualistic
contrasts between reverent worship of the serpent and fear-based repudiation.
The Egyptians’ reverence for the serpent’s life-giving
powers probably arose, in part, from—once again—observing them shedding their
skins, continually exposing a new resurrected body in the process. The god
Atum, the ancient Egyptian primeval creator deity, is represented in the form
of the serpent who seasonally shed his outer skin, a symbol of the continual
life, death, and new life cycle. At one point, Atum prophesies to Osiris, the
Egyptian god of the netherworld and final judgment, that he is going to destroy
the entire world he had created and revert back to his serpentine form.
Early-20th-century Dutch-born archaeologist Henri Frankfort,
who spent his life reconstructing ancient Egyptian and Mesopotamian culture and
mythology, said of the Egyptian serpent gods, “The primeval snake survives when
everything else is destroyed at the end of time. Thus the serpent was strongly
and continually associated with creation and eternal existence in the ancient
Egyptian ethos. The Egyptians portrayed life itself by the image of the rearing
serpent, and a serpent biting its tail was a common Egyptian emblem for
‘eternity.’”
During the Egyptian Middle Kingdom (2030–1640 BCE),
post-11th Dynasty, the god Amun came onto the scene as the patron god of the
capitol city of Thebes. Amun in one of his manifestations was that of the
serpent god named Kematef (“he who has completed his time”). At Karnak, during
the beginning of the New Kingdom (1550–1090 BCE), Amun was merged with the sun
god Ra, when Pharaoh Ahknaten uprooted the entire Egyptian system of religion
and worship and decreed a new, monotheistic society. “Amun-Ra became the
monotheistic, supreme state-enforced/endorsed god of Egypt during this period.
Amun-Ra’s divine consort, the serpent goddess Mut (“the resplendent serpent”)
gave birth to a son named Khonsu.” Together, this holy triad, in the Egyptian
worldview, symbolized the perfect union both in the house of the gods as well
as being representative of the supreme social structure of the royal family.
And it was this family portrait that inextricably linked the house and family
of the pharaoh to the mythological serpent of Egyptian mythology. But
Ahkenaten’s monotheistic society lasted but one generation before it was
overthrown and the implementation of a reversion back to the polytheism took place.
All periods of Egyptian history, from the earliest
historical times all the way to the end of the New Kingdom, creation,
fertility, birth, the goodness of the gods, rebirth, and resurrection were all
embodied in the image of the serpent. Thermuthis was the serpent-headed goddess
to whom were brought offerings at the time of harvest, thanking her for
successful crops of both food and grape of the vine.
The Father of Serpents, Geb, was the god of earth and “the
father of the gods.” The snake was linked to life after death and the recurring
cycle of life due to Egyptian obsession with the quest for eternal life, and he
became a symbol of survival after death and even resurrection among the ancient
Egyptians. In the Egyptian Book of the Dead, sometimes referred to by its more
precise title, The Book of Going Forth by Day, in chapter 87, we are told that
transformation into a serpent upon death gives new life to the deceased.
A serpent goddess in pre-dynastic Egypt set the stage for
her veneration as an enduring symbol throughout the rest of dynastic Egyptian
history. The most important serpent of Lower Egypt was Wadjet (“the green one”)
who eventually became the symbol of a unified Egypt and its royal house. It was
this serpent goddess whose name became synonymous with the general Egyptian
term for cobra and the foundation for the creation of the symbol of the uraeus,
the standing figure of the cobra found most often as the headpiece on the royal
Egyptian crowns. The cobra/uraeus became such an important piece of Egyptian
iconography that the life of the Pharaoh became known as the living years of
the uraeus. Wadjet not only became physically represented on the Pharaoh’s
crown as his guardian and protector, but eventually was bestowed the title of
the Eye of Ra. Her green color, significantly, became the color that
represented resurrection in ancient Egypt, and Wadjet, also referred to as “the
green one,” embodied the forces of health and fertility. As with most gods out
of antiquity, you can quickly see how numerous titles continued to be added on,
as the powers and influence of the god evolved in worship (Wadjet: the green
uraeus of the Pharaoh, the Eye of Ra, the protector and guardian of the life of
the Pharaoh, the power of fertility and good health).
Representing the oppositional character of the Egyptian
serpent was the Serpent God of Darkness, the winged, fire-spewing Apophis, What
Wadjet was to all that was good in ancient Egypt, Apophis was her counterpart,
representing the demonic forces, evil gods, and powers of the bleak underworld.
Apophis was the serpent of darkness, in complete opposition to the sun god Ra,
who was the light of the world. But Apophis, albeit the antithesis to Ra, was
never more powerful. He simply counterbalanced the serpent Mehen (“the coiled
one”) who was the protector of the sun god Ra, assisting him on his journey
through the realm of night to be reborn every morning. And as you find in many
cultures and religions, the powers of darkness are thwarted by the power of
good. As Satan is to God, so Apophis is to Ra, with minor alterations to the
functionality.
It has been said time and again that the ancient Egyptians
were utterly preoccupied with death—at least the royal family’s, as far as can
be seen. Their entire lives, especially when a seated Pharaoh, were consumed
with the afterlife and the resurrection. There is an interesting entry in the
Pyramid Texts, the funerary papyri of ancient Egypt. In these documents is
listed something for which there is very little explanation: the “snake game,”
presumably a test of sorts, played out in the afterlife when a Pharaoh died—a
game he has to win. How interesting a tie to modern Christinaity would that
be!? The notion of an Egyptian judgment, test, or fist-a-cuff in order to enter
the beautiful wonders of the afterlife seem a colloquial version of a much
greater religious prime.
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