Hestia - Part 1

In response to the Thirty Days of Devotion Challenge, Rhyd Wildermuth has written several posts about a Welsh goddess called Arianrhod. Reading his posts and the thirty questions that inspired them, I immediately thought of writing about Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth. I dismissed the idea, but it stuck in my head and wouldn't accept any of my excuses for not writing. 


Here are my answers to the first ten of thirty questions originally posed by Ruadhán. (I've also added a thirty-first question, which will appear in the final post.)


I. A basic introduction of the deity

The ancient Greeks believed in a goddess of the home and hearth they called Hestia. There are few surviving images of her. She was, perhaps, represented by the fire in the hearth or the hearth itself. She was presumably a deity of household abundance, the well-being of a family, and the preparation of food.

Her name means 'hearth.' For most of human history and pre-history, the hearth was the central and most important part of a home. The fire in the hearth provided warmth, nourishment, light, and a sense of security. Today, even if you have a well furnished, centrally heated, living room, people tend to gather in the kitchen whether or not there are enough seats. The kitchen is still the center of the house and we are still drawn to the place where her presence is most focused. (The Latin word, focus, meant hearth or fireplace and was used figuratively for home or family.)

Her fire was sacred and it was considered unlucky for the hearth fire to go out or be extinguished. A newly born infant would be carried around the hearth fire. Supposedly, when young women married, mothers would transfer fire from their hearths to their daughter's new home. (However, it seems likely, that a newly married couple would have lived with the groom's extended family, in which case, there would already be a fire burning in that hearth.)

Hestia was neither a mother nor a wife. Yet warmth, comfort, and nourishment were attributed to her presence in the home.

In the Greek myths, Hestia was the first child of Cronus. He swallowed each of his children immediately after they were born. The last child, Zeus, escaped this fate and forced his father to disgorge the other children. Since Hestia was the first to be swallowed and the last to be released, she spent the most time in the dark.

She is credited with discovering how to build houses. And she mostly preferred to stay inside them.

Unlike household gods in other cultures, Hestia's realm wasn't restricted solely to the family hearth; she was also worshiped at the city's communal hearth. She was said to keep both running smoothly. (She must have kept a low profile in Athens; I can't imagine Athena sharing a city with anyone.) When Greeks founded a new colony, they brought fire from their former city's hearth for their new city's hearth. Her role, if any, in community politics is lost to time.

There's little information about the worship of Hestia, but obviously she was important: a sacrifice to any god, whether in the home or a temple, had to begin and end with Hestia's hearth fire.


II. How did you become first aware of this deity? 

I first learned about Hestia in a book called Goddesses in Everywoman: A New Psychology of Women, which a roommate loaned me when I expressed an interest in her religion: paganism. The author of the book identified seven psychological archetypes which she associated with seven Greek goddesses. Three of these were "virgin goddesses," active and independent, three were "vulnerable goddesses," passive and abused, and one, Aphrodite, was the "alchemical goddess."

The archetype that I most identified with was Hestia. (Interestingly, in a later book, Goddesses in Older Women, the same author claims that Hestia is the only archetype from her earlier book that remains active throughout a woman's life.)

Because I learned of Hestia from that book, I considered her only an archetype within myself. Recently it has happily occurred to me that the Hestia's energy might have a source outside my own psyche.


III. Symbols and icons of this deity  

A geranium branch?

• The hearth, where food was cooked and which warmed the house 
• Fire, which cooked food and was necessary for animal sacrifice
• Donkeys, which were used to turn millstones to make flour for bread
• On Greek pottery, Hestia is always still; fire isn't depicted in those images (perhaps because her fire is inside her heart?)
• Cranes, according to one list. Why? They do build nests and form flocks; there are even some that do not migrate. A few myths and fables about cranes are interesting to consider.
• Some images show Hestia holding a what looks like a staff, scepter, distaff, or large spindle, and might have indicated rank or domestic work.
• Household implements such as bowls, pantries, and keys. (Let's add a witch's cauldron to that list.)
• Veils, perhaps because she prefers to remain hidden and anonymous
• This list should include cats. What's a hearth without a cat? They aren't (too) demanding. They offer sincere love—not the showy phony kind—and they offer love when it's most needed. That sounds like the kind of love a hearth goddess would recognize.

IV. A favorite myth or myths of this deity 

There aren't many myths about Hestia. There is the story of her being swallowed by her father and the story that she stopped a war between Poseidon and Apollo by declaring she would never marry. (I suspect she would have made that decision regardless; the wrong spouse would have extinguished her flame.) There are different stories about why she gave up her seat at the Olympian dinner table to Dionysus.

My favorite story is the one with the donkey:

Roman goddess, Vesta

Hestia's mother threw a wild party to which she had invited the gods, nymphs, satyrs, and other semi-divine beings. Everyone drank too much, but while the other beings played or had sex, Hestia wandered away to take a nap on the grass near a river.

Priapus saw her asleep and decided to rape her. As he approached, a donkey brayed. Hestia awoke and, seeing Priapus, called for help.

Priapus was mocked and humiliated. (In revenge, Priapus used his giant phallus to beat the donkey.)

It seems odd that I like this story. It implies that it's dangerous for girls to go outside alone. (Okay, that's often true.) It implies that, except for Athena and Xena Warrior Princess, women cannot protect themselves. (Well, that's mainly true.) It promises that people will help a helpless woman. (That's completely false.) Maybe I like the story because it's funny that an ass makes an ass of a would-be rapist.

I was reminded of Hestia while reading The Mists of Avalon years ago. After Morgaine is more or less forced into marriage with an older man, she settles into her new home and gradually takes charge of it. Morgaine made Hestia seem like a goddess of power.

There should be a myth about the hearth fire itself. Hestia's flame represents stability and permanence and it is never destructive, but fire is not stable or permanent and it can be as destructive as it is useful-- if it is not contained by Hestia's hearth.


V. Members of the family – genealogical connections 

Hestia was the great grandchild of Gaia and Uranus and the daughter of Cronus and Rhea. She was the eldest sister of Zeus, Hera, Demeter, Poseidon, and Hades, and half sister to Athena, Hermes, Apollo, Artemis, and Dionysus. One of her aunts was Aphrodite, and her nephews included Ares and Hephaestus.

That was hardly "one big happy family." Hiding in the kitchen and only coming out with delicious meals to placate the others would have been my first choice, too.

A Greek Herm

VI. Other related deities and entities associated with this deity

Hestia was the hearth inside every Greek home. Her counterpart, Hermes, was a standing stone outside every door. (You were supposed to rub the penis for luck.)

Hermes was the god of boundaries, thresholds, liminal places (or times), and transitions. Unlike Hestia, he was a comfortable outside the home, moving quickly and confidently. He was a trickster, but it is said that his deceits usually assisted mortals against the gods.

Hermes was also a guide and a guardian. I like to think of him guarding Hestia's door, guiding her when she had to venture outside, and therefore, indirectly protecting her inner fire.


VII. Names and epithets

Egypt, 6th c. Tapestry

Greeks called her "Hestia, First and Last." She was born first but was the last to be rescued from Cronus. She received the first and last of all sacrifices.

Homer called her "The Worshipful and Dear." I like that epithet.

Recently, I caught myself calling her "Sister." It seemed right, but it puzzled me. Don't gods demand more intimidating titles?

Greco-Egyptians called her "Hestia Full of Blessings." That has an agricultural ring to it that suggests her role may have extended beyond the home in that time and place.


VIII. Variations on this deity (aspects, regional forms, etc.) 

The Roman goddess, Vesta: 

The Romans had an equivalent goddess, named Vesta. (Did the Roman and Greek gods have a common cultural ancestor or did the Romans, admirers of Greek culture, conflate the characteristics of the Greek gods with their own gods?)

Statues of Vestal Virgins
in the Forum Romanum

Vesta was a state goddess and had a temple in the Roman Forum that is still partially standing. Her temple was run by the only female priests in Rome.

The role of Vestal Virgin doesn't feel very Hestian to me. (Understand that I'm basing that statement and the next solely on what I imagine ancient Rome was like.)

The Temple of Vesta served the empire, not the goddess of the hearth or the fire in anyone's heart. A Vestal Virgin was selected by others and functioned within the state religion. Her life, though privileged, was regulated. Her functions as a priest were defined before she began her thirty years of service. Finally (and I can't figure out why this bothers me most), marriage to a former Vestal Virgin was prestigious.

The Celtic goddess, Brighid:

Like Hestia, Brighid was a goddess of fire. In Kildare, Ireland there was an eternal flame tended by her priestesses; it remained lit in the Christian era until (I think) the British brought the Protestant Reformation to Ireland. However, she was primarily goddess of the forge—of the magic and creativity of poets, blacksmiths, and healers—not of the home.

Rachel's Teraphim:

When Jacob took his family and flocks away from his father-in-law's house, Rachel, stole her father's teraphim. It is unclear if they were representations of family gods, statues of ancestral spirits, or a means of divination. In any case, they were something she wanted in her home and believed it was her right to have. To the Matriarch, Rachel, the teraphim were as essential to her home as the family's fire was.

The Japanese Kitsune Fox: 

A household spirit and very cute! He sometimes causes mischief, but (I'm sure) he means no harm. Actually he's more like Hermes than Hestia. In Japan, his image guards the doors of temples, but instead of a huge penis, he has nine fluffy tails. (If you are in doubt, ask my boy cat: there is nothing more manly than a big pouffy tail. Nine? Wow!)

The Chinese god, Zao Jun (or Tsao Chun): 

There are many household gods in Chinese mythology. Zao Jun, known as the stove master, is said to be one of most important.

The Ryukyuan kami, Hi Nu Kan: 

The hearth spirit, central to daily spirituality, was represented by three stones kept in the kitchen.

The Catholic saint, Martha: 

A contemporary statue

Several years ago, I saw (and purchased) a statue that reminded me of Hestia. I assumed it represented a Catholic saint. Someone later told me that the artist intended to depict St. Martha, whose symbols are a broom, keys, and a ladle.

Even I know the story: Jesus dropped in unannounced at the home of Martha and Mary. Mary sat at his feet like an adoring groupie. Martha welcomed him, quickly prepared a meal, served him, and did all the work that a good hostess would.

Jesus liked Mary better. (I bet his attitude would have changed if Martha hadn't been there to prepare his dinner.)

Nienna:

I'm completely serious (and certainly nuts). I've been convinced of Ulmo's reality since I first struggled through The Silmarillion when I was twelve, and if Nienna isn't real, she should be.

Although she isn't a goddess of hearth or fire, she has the strength and compassion of Hestia. You can imagine Olorin (aka Gandalf) dwelling in her home and learning simply from her presence.

Mightier than Estë is Nienna, sister of the Feantúri; she dwells alone. She is acquainted with grief, and mourns for every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor. So great was her sorrow, as the Music unfolded, that her song turned to lamentation long before its end, and the sound of mourning was woven into the themes of the World before it began. But she does not weep for herself; and those who hearken to her learn pity, and endurance in hope. Her halls are west of West, upon the borders of the world; and she comes seldom to the city of Valimar where all is glad. She goes rather to the halls of Mandos, which are near to her own; and all those who wait in Mandos cry to her, for she brings strength to the spirit and turns sorrow to wisdom. The windows of her house look outward from the walls of the world. - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion 

Other Deities: 

Here are lists of other hearth goddesses and other fire goddesses.


IX. Common mistakes about this deity 

I have probably made a few in this post. Feel free to let me know.


X. Offerings – historical and UPG 

Historical:

• sweet wine—so a kiddish cup full of Manischewitz or Schapiro's could do double duty? (Don't tell HaShem.)
• pigs (really? not a well-prepared brisket?) 
• the fat from animal sacrifices to any god (to paraphrase Leviticus, "All fat belongs to the Lady.") 

Not exactly historical:

• lighting Shabbat candles, taking challah, and immersing in the mikveh; the experience of those things feels very Hestian... 
• singing Eishet Chayil to the woman of the house on Friday nights. In some ways, the words reflect Hestia: "A woman of virtue… she watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness." However, the passage does not capture Hestia's inner stillness, her strength, or her independence from those who prosper because of her labor. 

Unverifiable Personal Gnosis (what a great phrase!)

• baking soda and vinegar applied liberally to all washable surfaces and poured down the drains
• a candle burning in the kitchen
• the welcoming of guests
• creating altars
• moving at your own pace under the guidance of nothing but your own soul

*

I address the remaining questions in parts 2 and 3:

(Hestia, Part 1)       Hestia, Part 2       Hestia, Part 3

Thanks to Rhyd for introducing me to the Thirty Days of Devotion Challenge. Here are links to his posts:

Arianrhod, questions 1, 2, & 3
Arianhrod, questions 4 & 5
Arianrhod, questions 6, 7, & 9
Arianrhod, questions 10 & 11
Arianrhod, questions 12 & 13
Arianrhod, questions 17, 18, & 19