Hestia is the
eldest of the six original Olympians, the six children of Khronos and Rhea and
her cult is probably one of the oldest of all the Greek gods, going far back
into the time of the wandering Indo-Europeans.
Hestia is also the youngest of the Olympians, she was the last released
from Khronos’ grasp, the final of the civilizing Olympians to be freed from the
chaotic powers of Titan-ruled earth.
The fire, the
central hearth seems to be a defining characteristic of a people- ‘we’ use this
fire, the ‘others’ can not share in ‘our’ flames. Perhaps
that is one reason why Hestia is a virgin goddess- if she took lovers, one might
be a god of another people, another culture the way Zeus found conquests among
all the people the original Hellenes encountered. In ancient Greek thought, as in many other
cultures, females were subordinate to males, and in many cases this was no less
true of gods and goddesses. If Hestia
took a husband, her ‘possessions’, her power would, in some way become
his. Hestia’s fire is the fire of the
community, the kingdom, the city-state- the symbol of unity and the physical
reminder of who a people are. That
symbol could not be risked passing into the hands of one outside the community.
Hestia is one of
three virgin goddesses of the Olympian pantheon, though to some she is the only
one who is chaste as well as virgin, for the ancient definition of the term
virgin is unpossesed by another and not
defining a sexual state of being. It is
this chasteness, her asexual nature that many find most difficult to understand
about Hestia, especially in modern
times with female sexuality loosing much of its demonization. But just because
one may not understand her satisfaction in her virginal state the power of it
can not be denied. She does not leave
off physicality out of a sense of asceticism, as in so many paths that vilify
the flesh, but as a way of internalizing power, the fire of her passion may be
banked- but it does glow, and that glow is love for all humanity.
Hestia’s love for
humanity is one of her defining characteristics. She does not have her own myths and great
tales, she shows up very rarely in stories and cult, but that does not display
any unimportance. It is said that when
Dionusos entered Olympos Hestia gave up her throne to him and left to dwell among
the hearths of humans. There are some
who argue that Hestia did not step down, that she retained her throne to keep
the male-female balance of the Olympians while others see Hestia at the center
of Olympos, not on a throne but seated at the central hearth making Hestia the
unifier of the great council of the gods just as her flames cement the bonds of
family and community on earth.
The same way that
Hestia binds together community she binds together individuals in worship and
in ritual, and so the first and last offerings given in all Greek ritual were
always made to her. While her fire is lit
in sacred space all those gathered together are bound in a unity of purpose-
not only to each other but to the gods as well.
This carries over even today in the flames of the Olympic torch that
when lit is supposed to represent the pledge of fourteen days of peace shared
by all countries of the world.
There are few
temples, few statues, and few pieces of art dedicated to Hestia. Her altar is the hearth of every home; her
temple every house humans dwell in. She
is present in the desire to build a home- to set out and create our own space
and she is in the desire to return back to our roots. In ancient times her flames
were carried from the mother hearth to the place of new colonization to forever
keep a connection from where we came from, and to be a light to where we are
going. She is the comfort of family, the
need to settle and to love, and if needed to defend. She is safety and she is shelter, and she is
the quiet listener who will hear all your woes and cares, and who will wrap you
in warmth while you cry out your sorrows.
Hestia has many
near cousins in the families of pantheons related to the Greek- Vesta of Rome,
Brigd of Ireland, Tabiti of the Scythians and based purely on my own keenings,
Saga of the Norse- there is something distinctly hestian to me about Saga
sitting beside the flames on a cold northern winter night with all the
community gathered round listening to her spin history.
I honor Hestia
while I clean, while I knit and sew and stitch and when I feel homesick for my
family and loved ones. Her eternal
flame, sculpted of clay and painted with bright reds, yellows and oranges sits
on my altar in a position of honor to serve as a constant reminder of the
gentle gifts and mighty power of this heavenly queen.
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