I am grateful for the many contributions that have been made over the years to our understanding of the book of Abraham. But I am convinced that we do not yet grasp the full import of this mysterious text. God is patiently waiting for us to ask the right questions and connect the dots.

Something that has intrigued me in my study is the question of why God seems to indulge misconceptions. For example, Abraham chapter 3 presents a geocentric cosmology. Today we know that the sun doesn’t rotate around the earth, but the Lord didn’t bother explaining this to Abraham. He taught him a primitive model as if it were fact.

Some Latter-day Saints take Abraham’s explanation of the stars literally, believing that God actually lives near a star or planet called Kolob, which is connected in some way to other governing planets such as Oliblish and Enish-go-on-dosh. But as I will explain, what Abraham gives us is nothing more than a mythological interpretation of the night sky. The people who lived anciently saw pictures and patterns in the stars, and they made up stories to go with them.

If God tolerated and even encouraged false ideas in ancient times, what implications does this have for us and the things we believe today? Therein lies the kernel of wisdom.

Wrong But Right

If you are old enough to remember when the missionary discussions were memorized, the first sentence may still be in your head: “Most people believe in a Supreme Being, even though they may call him by different names.” The book of Abraham provides an explanation of Egyptian culture and religion, but this explanation is given from the perspective of Abraham, a non-Egyptian. One of the most important stars to the Egyptians was Sirius, because it marked the start of the inundation season. They named this star Sopdet (“triangle”), probably because of the triangle shape it makes with Betelgeuse and Procyon. But when Abraham spoke of Sirius, he did not call it Sopdet. He used a Semitic name that was more familiar to him: Kalb, meaning “the Dog.”

In the night sky, Sirius is not far from Orion, which was called by Egyptians Sah. It is very likely that the Egyptians visualized this constellation differently than we do. Instead of a hunter, they saw a representation of Osiris, the shepherd. Underneath the shepherd, next to Canis Major, they saw a throne. Semitic people called this throne Kursi al Jauza or Arsh al Jauza (“Throne of Jauza”). I believe that the name Jauza is a variation of Osiris. When the Lord spoke to Abraham, he used a pun that only makes sense in Abraham’s language. Kalb (“dog”) is similar to qalb (“heart”), which connotes closeness or intimacy. The Lord told Abraham that Kalb is so named because it is near (qarab) the throne of God (see Abraham 3:2-3).

As the father of three major monotheistic religions, Abraham’s name is very familiar to us. It might be surprising, therefore, to learn that Abraham’s religion was very different from anything we find today. For starters, he was polytheistic. This comes through quite clearly in chapters 4 and 5 of the book of Abraham. Jehovah (Iah = Osiris) was only one member in a pantheon of gods. When Abraham condemned idolatry, he was taking issue with materialism, not the worship of more than one god.

Oliblish and Enish-go-on-dosh are Chaldean names for Egyptian deities and their corresponding constellations. The existence of such names shouldn’t surprise us, since Ur of the Chaldees was an Egyptian colony. I get the sense that Abraham did not see the Egyptian religion as being pagan. The people of Abraham’s day seemed to regard truth as being somewhat fluid and subjective. Even if different nations saw different pictures in the heavens, that doesn’t mean that one interpretation was more right than another.



So if someone were to go back in time and inform Abraham that the geocentric model of astronomy is incorrect, or that the shift in the annual rising of Sirius (which was thought to be a thousand-year rotation) can be explained by the Sothic cycle, I don’t think this would have upset him greatly. In a way, these misconceptions are true, because the spiritual universe really is organized according to a hierarchy, and as we move closer to the throne of God, time really does slow down. What is false in one sense is true in another.

This is the message of the book of Abraham. Many of the truths we take for granted are only relative. There is a deeper layer underneath. When we look at a belief system that differs from our own, we should not assume that our worldview is more correct. By juxtaposing seemingly contradictory ideas, God is trying to tell us that each perspective is equally valid. There is one truth, but that truth can be expressed in an infinite number of ways.

God could have revealed the text of the book of Abraham to Joseph Smith the same way he revealed the book of Moses. But instead, he presented us with a puzzle. Joseph claimed to translate Egyptian papyri and interpret Egyptian vignettes. The translation is completely wrong, but in some strange way, what Joseph produced is still true.

The modern mind sees this as an either/or scenario. Either Joseph Smith was a charlatan (a sensible conclusion), or else there is some explanation for how it is true. One possible explanation is that there were other papyrus rolls, one of which contained the account of Abraham. Another more creative theory is that a group of Jewish-Egyptian scribes hid the story of Abraham in the Sensen text, with each Egyptian character serving as a kind of symbolic marker.

The truth, as it turns out, is even crazier. Joseph Smith and his associates were convinced that the Egyptian language, being as old as it is, had preserved elements of the Adamic language. Joseph was thrilled to have access to Egyptian writing, because this gave him a chance to discover the inner structure of what he called “pure language.” It was a silly notion, almost as ignorant as the idea that heavenly bodies rotate around the earth.

But Joseph succeeded in translating because he was naive enough to believe that he could. He didn’t know that the text in front of him had nothing to do with Abraham, but because he believed that it did, God made it true. Egyptian really does derive from Adamic, and the story of Abraham is encoded in the characters themselves. The Egyptian vignettes were likewise intended to have wide applicability. So everything that Joseph produced, including his Egyptian alphabet and grammar, is completely accurate.

We see the same pattern at play in Joseph’s translation of the Book of Mormon. As a youth, he indulged in a childish fascination with folk magic. He entertained the uninformed notion shared by others of his day that the native Americans were descended from the lost tribes of Israel. He didn’t know that the Indians are mostly unrelated to the Jews. But because of his pure heart, God granted Joseph the opportunity to translate the record of a previously unknown Jewish colony in ancient America. This demonstrated that his misconceptions were, in a way, correct.

The lesson here is that God honors those who exercise faith. Even if what we believe defies reality, God will make it true. We shouldn’t be able to make rocks glow, walk on water, or move mountains, but when we are not encumbered by the constraints of the material world, nothing is off limits. Exercising power over the elements is extraordinary. But God goes even further than that. Truth itself is malleable. Normally we assume that wishing doesn’t make it so. But we are the creators of our own reality, and we can make up whatever story we want. When we are guided by the Spirit, whatever mythology we invent will be true in its own way.

Easy to be Entreated

In Abraham’s astronomical model, there are fifteen important fixed stars as well as fifteen moving bodies. The fixed stars were believed to have governing authority over all the other stars. In my article on Kolob, I mentioned the so-called Behenian stars, a medieval list of fifteen stars that were considered significant in magic and astrology. It’s possible that this list has ancient origins, but for all I know, it could have been corrupted over time. In my quest to identify Oliblish and other stars from the book of Abraham, I wondered if I should stick to this list. Ultimately I decided to not limit myself.

Oliblish, Enish-go-on-dosh, and Kae-e-vanrash: the three grand central stars powers. (Excerpt from the Grammar and Alphabet of the Egyptian Language.)

Something that helped me was realizing that when Abraham spoke of a governing star, he was referring to a constellation—the alpha star plus its accompanying stars. Joseph Smith described the fifteen as not just stars but governing powers, as if each one is a character with its own personality. Kolob was so named because it is the alpha star in Canis Major, the Great Dog (al-Kalb al-Akbar).

Because of my study of the name Olishem, I knew that the Indo-European root oli in Oliblish has to do with protecting vulnerabilities and overcoming weaknesses. I figured that Oliblish must have some connection to Varuna and his Western equivalent Uranus. But I didn’t know what blish means, and I had difficulty connecting the name to any particular star or constellation.

If we take Joseph Smith at his word, however, the answer to this puzzle is not hard to figure out. The explanation to Figure 2 in Facsimile 2 of the book of Abraham reads as follows:

Fig. 2. Stands next to Kolob, called by the Egyptians Oliblish, which is the next grand governing creation near to the celestial or the place where God resides; holding the key of power also, pertaining to other planets;

The illustration referenced by this explanation is a depiction of the god Amun-Ra with a double ram’s head.

The constellation most frequently associated with Amun-Ra is Aries, and the alpha star in Aries is Hamal. Aries is the Latin word for “ram,” which corresponds to the Arabic hamal. During Abraham’s day, the heliacal rising of Aries would have coincided roughly with the spring equinox, making it a very important constellation.

It might be confusing that Amun-Ra would be “called by the Egyptians Oliblish,” when Oliblish is not an Egyptian name. But remember that this is an explanation of Egyptian culture coming from Abraham’s perspective. Abraham gave us an Egyptian title for Amun-Ra, but the title is translated into Abraham’s language. To make an analogy, I could say that the planet Mars was called by the Egyptians “the Red One.” But the Egyptians didn’t actually say “Red One”; they said Her Deshur.

I previously determined that the l in Olishem must have originally been a retroflex consonant, which would have been easily confused with a d or r sound. This is why Ulysses is equivalent to Odysseus. The Indian region Odisha is also called Orissa, and the language spoken there is called Oriya or Odia. The name Oliblish, therefore, must be equivalent to Odiblish or Oriblish.

Finessing Oliblish a bit results in orabilis, a Latin word meaning “able to be invoked.” Oribilis, which is thought to be the basis for the name Arabella, is a compound of orare, meaning “to pray, beg,” and abilis, which is equivalent to the English able. Though not found in English by itself, orabilis is part of the word inexorable.

There are a number of reasons why orabilis fits with Amun-Ra and the constellation Aries. First of all, ora is not far off from Aries linguistically. Secondly, “invocable” or “entreatable” is an appropriate description of Amun, because he was regarded by the Egyptians as a god who hears prayers. This association has been preserved to the present day in the way we use the word Amen. An ancient hymn text, as quoted by Egyptologist John A. Wilson, reads as follows:

Amun-Ra — “who hears the prayer, who comes at the cry of the poor and distressed, who gives breath (to) him who is weak.”

The name Aries tends to connote a full-grown ram, but hamal refers to a young lamb. When I look at the stars in Aries, I see the beginnings of a curved horn, bringing to mind a male sheep that hasn’t yet reached maturity.

In some versions, the Pleiades cluster is the fatty tail of the lamb (alyat al-hamal).

It makes sense to me that a lamb would be seen as a symbol of vulnerability. Amun, whose name means “hidden,” is the god to whom a person reveals his secrets. This supports the idea that Ahman, as in Adam-ondi-Ahman, means “secret counsel,” corresponding to the Hebrew word sod. Let’s not forget that Amun is a member of the Ogdoad, and that he and his consort represent air and invisibility. Amun’s connection to air explains the similarity of Aries to air and aria. This also ties back to Uranus/Varuna, the Indo-European god of sky (i.e. air) and water, and the first syllable of Uranus is not far off from Aries. The Greeks associated Amun with Zeus, their own sky deity.

In Oliblish, we find the personification of an idea, namely that we must approach God in secret prayer. As we do so, our vulnerabilities become covered, enveloped, and protected.

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. (Matthew 6:6) And when I did turn unto my closet, O Lord, and prayed unto thee, thou didst hear me. (Alma 33:7) Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; (Alma 37:37)

Amun represents that which is spiritual, in contrast to that which is temporal. It is the spirit that animates and gives life to the material world. Amun is the wind in our sails, and as such, he is masculine. The Egyptians regarded him as a creator god. This connects him to Kolob, because Sirius, being the herald of the primordial waters (i.e. flood season), was also associated with creation. That is why the explanation to Facsimile 2 says that Oliblish (Hamal) “stands next to Kolob.” Both stars were believed to be in the highest heaven, and they were equal in importance.



Lady in Red

A powerful masculine god such as Amun-Ra must be counterbalanced with an equally powerful feminine deity. That’s where Enish-go-on-dosh comes in. The approach that I used to uncover the meaning of Oliblish can be applied to this name as well.

The explanation to Figure 5 in Facsimile 2 reads as follows:

Is called in Egyptian Enish-go-on-dosh; this is one of the governing planets also, and is said by the Egyptians to be the Sun, and to borrow its light from Kolob through the medium of Kae-e-vanrash…

The illustration paired with this explanation is a depiction of a cow, an unmistakable symbol of the goddess Hathor. We really need to give credit to Joseph Smith where credit is due, because Hathor, being a solar deity, really was said by the Egyptians to be the sun. Despite his ignorance, Joseph managed to guess correctly.

Hathor was associated with the Pleiades star cluster. Egyptian writings describe “Seven Hathors”—women who decreed fates. This brings to mind the Seven Sisters from Greek mythology who personified the Pleiades. So it seems clear that this cluster is the “star” referenced by the name Enish-go-on-dosh.

The Pleiades, as seen through the Hubble Telescope

It is worth noting that when Abraham spoke of Enish-go-on-dosh, he was referring to a goddess, not just to a star. Hathor was regarded as the feminine counterpart of Ra, the sun god. The constellation was merely a representation of the goddess. What this tells us is that in Abraham’s mind, there was no difference between astronomy and mythology. The stars told the story of the gods.

The Pleiades cluster is not a constellation by itself. It must have been regarded as the alpha star in a larger asterism, but which one? I believe it was al Thuraya, a constellation that never made its way into Western astrology. The people of the Near East imagined it as a young woman wearing a cluster of jewels as a necklace. Her right hand is raised high above her head.

The Pleiades are also located within another constellation: Taurus, the bull. I believe that taurus actually derives from the Semitic word thuraya (“little abundant one”). We might suppose that al Thuraya was abandoned as the bull gained prominence. But I think both constellations were known and recognized at the same time. This would explain why Hathor was often depicted as a cow with horns, carrying the sun disc, despite the fact that horns are usually regarded as a masculine trait.

Just like Oliblish, Enish-go-on-dosh is an Egyptian title for an Egyptian god, but the title comes to us via the language of the Chaldeans. From my previous study, I have determined that the Chaldeans were not originally Semitic. The vocabulary of their language included a mixture of Indo-European, Semitic, and Egyptian influences. This diversity comes through in the name Enish-go-on-dosh. I believe it is composed of three parts; Enish is Semitic, go-on is Indo-European, and dosh is Egyptian.

The final morpheme, dosh, looks like a variation of the Egyptian deshur, meaning “red.” This is significant, because as Val Sederholm noted in 2014, one of the titles of Hathor-Sekhmet was “Lady of the Red Apparel.” An Egyptian magical text hails her with the words: “Hail to you, seven Hathors who are clothed in wrappings of red linen!”

Hathor (right) and Nefertari. Source: Flickr

In illustrations, Hathor usually appears in either a red or turquoise dress. The turquoise color makes sense, given that the Pleiades stars are of this hue. But what is the significance of a red dress? When I asked myself this question, the answer came to me through pure inspiration. The red dress is a symbol of a woman’s menstrual cycle. Anciently, women on their period were considered ritually unclean, and during that time they had to separate themselves from the rest of society. This tradition has been preserved in places like Nepal, where women are exiled to menstrual huts. If you look up articles about these huts, you will notice that in the accompanying photos, many of the women are wearing red dresses.

To ancient stargazers, the Pleiades must have resembled a group of women huddled together, isolated from others. Enish resembles the Semitic word anis (or ənis), meaning “close friend” or “bosom companion.” The Azerbaijani poet Fuzuli wrote a poem entitled Anis ol-qalb (“Friend of the Heart”). This use of this word in conjunction with red dresses seems to make subtle reference to menstrual synchrony—the phenomenon, whether real or imagined, that close female companions tend to have their periods at the same time. Another phonetically similar word is anise. This is an herb that relieves gas and bloating, and is said to ease menstrual cramps. Enish also reminds me of the Hebrew name Enos or Enosh, which, as I explained in a previous post, connotes corruption or uncleanness.

In go-on, it’s not hard to see the English word gown. This derives from the Greek gouna, and some scholars believe it is Celtic in origin. The word originally referred to a coarse garment. This suggests that Hathor wore a red dress for practical reasons and not for looks. Hathor was the ultimate symbol of fertility and femininity. She, along with her menstrual cycle, personified the annual flooding of the Nile that brought new life to the land. This is why it was said that Hathor (the Pleiades) borrows her light from Kolob (Sirius), the star that ushers in the inundation season.

Another relevant clue is the fact that descriptions of al Thuraya say that her right hand was stained with henna. The use of henna dye as body art dates to antiquity. Originally, it was associated with fertility. In many cultures, it is customary for brides to have a henna night with their female companions shortly before getting married. I see a connection between henna and menstrual blood. This idea is supported by traditions in Islamic cultures. Women apply henna as part of the purification process after having their period.

Open Your Mouths

Kae-e-vanrash is described not as a god but rather as a means by which light or spiritual power is transferred. More than a year ago, writing about the harlot Isabel in the Book of Mormon, I proposed that this term is a reference to the Egyptian opening of the mouth ritual. This ceremony involved the symbolic animation of a dead body or a statue. Vanrash resembles the Egyptian wn-r (“opening of the mouth”), and kae resembles the Egyptian ka, which, according to the Egyptians, is part of the soul. The ka, as I see it, is the breath of life, akin to what we would call the Holy Ghost. The purpose of the wn-r ritual was to open the mouth, in imitation of the way a midwife clears the airway of a newborn so that the living breath can enter in.

Here, a priest is extending a serpent-headed tool (urheka) toward the mouth of the mummy, while his other hand is holding a ceremonial adze (sebur).

This practice was not exclusively Egyptian. The Sumerians had a similar ritual, the name of which was written as KA.DUḪ.Ù.DA or KA.LUḪ.Ù.DA. It is interesting to me that Abraham’s term and the Sumerian name both begin with ka. In Sumerian, ka means “mouth.”

Is there a star or constellation associated with the opening of the mouth? Yes, that would be the Big Dipper. As part of the ceremony, the priests would use a special tool to open the mouth. There were a couple different varieties. One was a serpent-headed rod called urheka. Another was an adze-like tool called sebur that had a more angular design. Both of these tools imitated the finger that a midwife would use to clear the mouth of a baby. To the ancient Egyptians and Chaldeans, Ursa Major looked like a ceremonial adze, and so they associated the constellation with the ritual that used the adze. It also reminded them of the foreleg of an ox.

The Egyptians considered the wn-r ritual necessary because they believed that before a person could enter heaven, his ba (i.e. individual spirit) must unite with his ka (i.e. collective soul, God). By opening the mouth, the priest was removing the barriers that separate the ba from the ka. The unity of ba and ka and the accompanying give and take is what breathing (sensen) represents. Enabling this unity is comparable to what happens during confirmation when the priesthood holder says, “Receive the Holy Ghost.” I also picture someone performing CPR on a drowning victim and shouting, “Come on, breathe!”

The opening of our mouths is the means by which we come alive spiritually. A person who is alive is able to breathe, eat, and talk. The spiritual equivalent of eating is the ability to understand sacred writing, and the equivalent of talking is the ability to utter inspired words. This is something that the prophet Nephi taught.

Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, divine utterance may be given me, so that I will boldly make known the mystery of the gospel, (Ephesians 6:19) Open your mouths and they shall be filled, and you shall become even as Nephi of old, who journeyed from Jerusalem in the wilderness. (D&C 33:8) And the Lord said unto Enoch: Go forth and do as I have commanded thee, and no man shall pierce thee. Open thy mouth, and it shall be filled, and I will give thee utterance, for all flesh is in my hands, and I will do as seemeth me good. (Moses 6:32)

Today, the phrase “open your mouth” is normally interpreted to mean “speak out” or “make your voice heard.” But in its original context, it means to be receptive and in tune so that the Spirit can fill us with the words we need to share. It is both a command and an authorization. Notice that God only says this to his chosen messengers. He opens the mouths of his servants and then commissions them to reanimate the spiritually dead.

What I’m getting at here is that the process of opening the mouth is tied to priesthood authority. This is important because one of the central issues in the book of Abraham is the authority of the Egyptians, or lack thereof. Abraham argued that the Egyptians’ claim to authority, which was based on lineage, was not valid.

One of the entries in Joseph Smith’s Egyptian alphabet is the word kahtoumun. When I was looking through this document, I recognized the accompanying character as being a genuine Egyptian hieroglyph. As a phoneme, it makes an r sound, and as a logogram, it means “mouth.”

Joseph defined kahtoumun as a royal female lineage. I figured that if kae-e-vanrash really does refer to the opening of the mouth ceremony, then there must be a connection between Joseph’s definition of kahtoumun and the Egyptian wn-r ritual. What could it be?

The mystery is made more complicated by the fact that earlier documents from the Kirtland Egyptian Papers mention a princess named Katumin who was the daughter of a pharaoh named Onitas. Katumin was presumably one of the virgins mentioned in Abraham 1:11.

In the case of Katumin, Egyptologists have been able to recognize the text that Joseph Smith was pulling characters from. It is a copy of the Book of the Dead, and it has nothing to do with Egyptian princesses. Instead these characters should be rendered as “words spoken by Osiris.” Furthermore, it looks like bad copying caused Joseph to mistakenly conflate two different hieroglyphs: the cobra (I10), representing the sound dd (“words”), which later morphed into the oval shaped mouth hieroglyph (D21).

This is another example of something that is wrong but yet right. Instead of giving Joseph the literal translation of the text, God revealed something far more interesting: the deeper meaning hidden within individual Egyptian characters.

I believe that the revelation about Katumin was triggered by the first character in the text that Joseph’s scribe copied down—the cobra. What might the deeper significance of the cobra be? To someone steeped in Egyptian culture such as the prophet Abraham, the answer is obvious. The cobra represents authority. It is the uraeus, which the pharaoh wore on his head to signify his right to rule. The Egyptian royalty claimed authority from their lineage. I wrote previously that the serpent is a phallic symbol, and that the ability to take up serpents was equated with the authority to speak and act in God’s name.

Gold mask from the tomb of Psusennes I. Source: Flickr

The royal headdress carrying the uraeus was called a khat, which resembles Katumin. This is interesting, but there’s more. The word uraeus comes from the Egyptian iaret, a feminine word meaning “to ascend,” i.e. rear up. The uraeus, therefore, is a rearing cobra, a symbol of the goddess Wadjet. But when I thought about the word iaret and sounded it out, I realized that this is actually the name Jared, which, as I explained in a previous post, means “descent” or “to go down.” How ironic! Taking into account this alternative meaning, the entries for kahtoumun in Joseph’s Egyptian grammar suddenly seem very interesting.

Kah-tou-mun — descent from her by whom Egypt was discovered while it was under water Ho-oop-hah — Queen Kah-tou-mun, a distinction of Royal lineage or descent, from her whom Egypt was discovered while it was under water, who was the daughter of Ham — a lineage with whom a record of the fathers was intrusted by the tradition of Ham and according to the tradition of their elders; by who also the tradition of the art of embalming was kept.

Since the Egyptian grammar breaks down the meaning of individual syllables, we can guess that tou, the middle syllable in Kah-tou-mun, is the same as toues, which means “under, below” or “going down,” and that this is the semantic source for “descent.” If we take a closer look at the definitions of toues, we can see that one of the entries leaves no room for doubt.

Toan towee tahee takee toues: under the Sun: under heaven; downward; pointing downward going downward; stooping down going down into another place, — any place: going down into the grave — going down into misery — even Hell; coming down in lineage by royal descent, in a line by Onitas, one of the royal families of the Kings of Egypt.

What this means is that kahtoumun and iaret are synonymous. Both signify a royal descent or lineage. The Egyptians believed that their lineage gave them authority. God had authorized them by their descent to perform rites on the deceased, i.e. open the mouth. This is why they used a modified uraeus (iaret), the serpent-headed tool called urheka, as a tool in the opening of the mouth ceremony.

Joseph Smith’s explanation suggests that Katumin was the name of a particular princess and that the name of her father, the pharaoh, was Onitas. He even gives the specific year of her birth and tells how old she was when she died. But I think this description is a bit deceptive. Joseph learned about one person through revelation, but all the princesses of this lineage were called Katumin, and all their fathers were known as Onitas. That’s because the term Katumin or Kahtoumun referred to a royal harem.

Remember that the Egyptian rulers were incestuous. They considered it essential to maintain a pure, unmixed bloodline. So to ensure that the princes of Egypt had wives to draw from that were part of the royal line, they used a harem. The women of the harem were daughters of pharaohs who grew up to become wives of pharaohs. I suspect that they did not necessarily have specific husbands, but essentially served as prostitutes or concubines for the upper class. Since they didn’t know who their father was, they were all called the daughters of Neith (or Onitas). During Abraham’s time, three of these daughters living in Ur refused to perform their duty, and because of their disobedience, they were ritually sacrificed.

A term resembling katumin appears in the Quran.

Muhammad is not the father of any of your men, but he is the Messenger of Allah, and the Seal of the Prophets [khatam an-nabiyyan] and Allah has full knowledge of all things. (33:41)

There is much disputation in the Muslim world over what this verse means. Khatam is taken to mean “official seal,” based on the Arabic verb khatama (“to seal”). At least one scholar thinks that khatam is not an Arabic word. Based on what I know about katumin and the uraeus (a symbol of authority), I would interpret this verse to mean that Muhammad should be considered an authorized messenger of Allah.

Another piece of evidence indicating that katumin was a real word is the name Heqet. This was an Egyptian goddess of fertility and childbirth. Heqet is the likely source for the name Hecate, a Greek goddess of magic. Hecate, in turn, is the basis for Aikaterina, which lately evolved into the name Catherine, or Kate for short.



The Highest Degree of Light

There is one more astronomical term I would like to discuss: flos-isis. This is not found in the book of Abraham, but it appears in the GAEL. It is defined as being the sun, but with an added spiritual dimension. For example:

The sun in its affinity with Earth and Moon… …the cheering the face of Millions of planets The highest degree of light, because its component parts are light. The King of day or the central moving planet, from which the other governing moving planets receive their light.— having a less motion— slow in its motion— The earth’s chief Joy.

I mentioned when writing about the GAEL that this term caught my attention, especially its connection to happiness or felicity. I began to wonder if flos-isis could be related to the Latin flos (“bloom, best part”) or felicitas. I also wondered how cats or other animals fit into the picture, because felis means “cat,” and the Egyptians associated cats with Ra, the sun god. D&C 77:2-3 seems to hint at a relationship between beasts and felicity.

The ancient Egyptians were among the first to domesticate the cat, which they named miu. Cats were highly revered, and the festival of Bastet, the cat goddess, was very popular. Large numbers of mummified cats have been found. So what was it about cats that made them so important? It’s not just that they are cute and cuddly. They were regarded as spiritual symbols.

The Gayer-Anderson cat, dating from the Late Period. Source: Wikimedia

It’s not surprising that cats would be associated with the sun, because every cat owner knows that cats love to bask in the sun. The Egyptians saw significance in this. The most famous Egyptian cat, the Great Sphinx of Giza, faces due east, toward the rising sun, and the Book of the Dead conflates the cat with Ra himself.

Akhenaten as sphinx. Source: Flickr

Let’s take a look at what the Book of the Dead actually says on the subject. The relevant passage is found in chapter 17.

I am that great cat beside whom the ished-tree was split in Iunu on that night of active battle, and making the guard against the rebels on that day on which the enemies of the Lord of All were destroyed. What does it mean? That great cat beside whom the ished-tree was split in Iunu is Ra himself, called Cat when Sia said of him ‘that is how he is, by what he has done’ and his name became Cat.

The sacred ished tree was the Egyptian equivalent of the tree of life. They regarded it as a kind of axis mundi—a bridge connecting heaven and earth. The above quotation describes a primeval battle between God and his enemies. It says that the cat was present when the sacred tree was split, thus destroying the bridge and cutting off the evil ones from the presence of God.

When I thought about this origin story, I realized that it draws upon the role that cats play in catching unwanted pests. This is what makes them so useful. So they came to symbolize the idea of protecting sacred spaces from evil. Sphinxes play the same role. Their job is to keep out anyone who is not able to correctly answer specific questions. They are equivalent to the cherubim and flaming sword that God placed at the east of Eden to guard the way to the tree of life. Sphinx is similar to sphincter, something that either allows or restricts access to a passageway.

The Great Sphinx, circa 1878

Sphinxes are hybrid creatures, as are cherubim (i.e. griffins). This symbolizes the idea of being an intermediary or gatekeeper between different realms. The Egyptians saw themselves as having this role and responsibility. As human-angel hybrids, they guarded the gateway to heaven. They alone held the secrets to immortality. This right came to them by virtue of their lineage. They were literal descendants of the gods (i.e. the children of Adam), and they decided that the divine blood would no longer be diluted. Thus, they were katumin—the cats. It’s worth noting that the Great Sphinx once had a uraeus rearing up from its forehead, but that part, like the nose, has since fallen off, most likely due to vandalism.

When I was trying to figure out the deeper meaning behind cats, the sun, and happiness, my wife reminded me of the lyrics of a song.

Burnt out ends of smoky days

The still cold smell of morning

A street lamp dies, another night is over

Another day is dawning

Touch me,

It is so easy to leave me

All alone with the memory

Of my days in the sun

If you touch me,

You’ll understand what happiness is

Look, a new day has begun

These words come from the 1981 musical Cats. They were written by Trevor Nunn, the musical’s director. As I have mentioned before, I often find inspired ideas in the unlikeliest of places. At first, I didn’t think that a rather strange musical would have much to offer in the way of spiritual insight. But it turns out that Cats was inspired by a set of poems by T.S. Eliot. The poems, in turn, were inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy. In the story of Cats, we find the theme of ascent—the upward journey to paradise.

Another place where I found unexpected inspiration is in the rites of Shiva, one of the principal deities of Hinduism. BYU-Idaho professor David D. Peck wrote an article about how beliefs and rituals associated with Shiva echo a particular phrase from the temple: “joy and rejoicing in your posterity.” I sensed that this phrase might have something to do with the felicity of beasts described in D&C 77.

Shiva is a normally thought of as a destroyer god, but he is also a creator. Hindus describe Shiva as a yogi or monk who lives an ascetic, celibate lifestyle. But he is also married to Parvati and has other consorts. This makes about as much sense as a virgin prostitute. But mystery in religion tends to deal with contradiction. Peck explains:

The paradox of a god who is both generator and destroyer is the very mystery explored by pilgrims at Varanasi. Shiva presents a paradox in two senses: he is both generator and destroyer, and he is sexual yet chaste.

The Shiva mystery teaches us how to think about the power of procreation. Peck continues:

The lessons of the myth are clear to Hindus: It is noble to live the life of the ascetic, to deny full expression to one’s passions. Nevertheless, this is ultimately not possible, or even desirable. Thus, the Hindu scripture teaches that together the husband and wife can direct the energies of Kama [i.e. sexual desire] toward the establishment of family. Hindu scripture teaches that “Men should unite with their wives. Women should go with their husbands…. We will win the battle [against lust] when we thus unite together as a pair.”

So Peck seems to be making the argument that “joy and rejoicing” has to do with sexual release and the happiness that comes from marriage and family life. But as I pondered this, I still had a lot of questions.

Shiva linga in Hampi, India. Source: Wikimedia

One of the iconic representations of Shiva in Hinduism is the Shiva lingam. This is a essentially a stylized phallus united with a vulva, and different varieties can be found all over India. To Western sensibilities, this is just weird. What’s the deal with phallus worship? Hindus seem incapable of giving a simple answer. It has something to do with energy, creation, and balance, and can only be comprehended spiritually.

At first I struggled to put the pieces together. I couldn’t figure out why Shiva is a destroyer and how that relates to cats. But after a few days the understanding came to me in a way that is hard to describe. What I realized is that this is not really about sex. Sex is merely a symbol, as are cats. The real idea at play is the concept that I wrote about in my article entitled “The Center Place.”

The sacred phallus corresponds to the ished tree—the tree of life in paradise. It is the axis mundi, the bridge connecting opposite realms. It is what makes it possible to transition from one place to another or one state to another. It is the in-between. Cats symbolize this transition, because the Egyptians domesticated them. They are hybrid creatures, part beast and part human. At first they were fierce, wild animals, but then they were brought into the household, and they became loving companions.

Let me say it in plain English. After we die, our spirits leave our bodies and go to the spirit world. The spirit world is an intermediate realm, like a train station. It is not the final destination. There is yet another transition that must take place. This transition is colloquially described as “going into the light.” Some souls have a difficult time making this transition, because they are too attached to the material world and have unresolved baggage. Getting stuck in this chasm is what it means to be in spirit prison.

Depictions from popular culture, such as the TV show Ghost Whisperer, are not inaccurate. People who have had near-death experiences say that going into the light is the most blissful thing they have ever felt. This is true felicity, the pleasure that results when our individual self joins in sacred union with our collective self.

Into the light. Source: Flickr

Shiva is a destroyer god because going into the light is the death of our soul. We cease to exist as individuals. We resist this death as long as possible, like a yogi trying to remain celibate. But eventually we realize that it is not practical or even desirable to resist. In the tunnel, linear time slows down and past, present, and future begin to blend together. We find that letting go is the sweetest surrender. It seems wrong, but it feels so right. The memory of who we really are pulls us in. When that happens, we realize that we are God, and that we divided ourself into pieces for the very purpose of coming back together again and experiencing that intense joy. It is so incredibly thrilling, that as soon as it happens, we can’t wait to do it again.

