I had a dream a few nights ago in which I crossed paths with an attractive young woman.
She was travelling with her mother and father, and at a stop along their way, she and I met and took a liking to each other.
I thought her name was beautiful and very unique:
Varinia.
I had never heard that name before. I thought the dream had invented it. A quick search after I woke revealed that it’s actually an ancient Roman name.
Varinia, the feminine form of Varius, means “fickle,” “changeable” or “versatile.”
From the same root came: variable, various, variation, etc.
This dream came near the end of a difficult period, and I have since concluded that my anima, returning after a long absence, had taken the guise of a stranger to make a point about the distance which had grown between us.
Much is said without being understood.
There are many “gnostics” today who talk about Sophia. Almost none of them can provide a clear account of who or what she is.
I have been unwilling until now to discuss her, because I wasn’t confident that I knew anything at all about her.
Of the fragmentary Gnostic cosmologies available to us, many describe her as a divine being whose fall from grace created the sordid, imperfect world of matter.
The common trope is that Sophia fell because she either tried to create or to contemplate God without her masculine counterpart, the Logos.
Because of this, Sophia gives birth to a tyrannical abomination. A false god, called by the Gnostics: Yaldabaoth, depicted as a lion-headed serpent. This being then creates the material world.
He was sometimes identified with the Old Testament God and the planet Saturn.
The problem is, nobody understands that story.
Anyone who says they do is probably lying — to you, to themselves or both.
Why?
Because it doesn’t make sense in English. Certain terms in the Greek do not translate well. That’s why on the surface, it’s so bizarre.
The Greek word “sophia” is usually translated as “wisdom.” The word “philosophy” comes from “philo-sophia” or “love of wisdom.”
But as is always the case, translation at once reveals and obscures.
Sophia is better understood as the cunning, practical wisdom of Odysseus than the intellectual wisdom of Aristotle.
Sophia is “knowing how,” not “knowing why.”
In ancient Greek, the word refers first and foremost to “skill or cleverness in carpentry, music, or other crafts.“
We know this is important, because Sophia is the mother of the demiurge or dēmiourgós — another Greek term which literally means “craftsman.”
It’s unlikely that this artisanal theme is accidental.
Secondarily, it means to be wise in a pragmatic sense, like when you “get wise” to a trick and don’t fall for it again.
The Greek goddess Athena is the divinity who bears the strongest resemblance to Sophia. Athena is the goddess of wisdom, strategy, defensive warfare, and the handicrafts.
She was associated with technical knowledge, credited with the invention of ploughs, rakes, chariots, ships and the aulos. She was said to have taught women the arts of pottery, spinning, weaving and cooking.
In the Odyssey, Athena is a master of disguises with a soft spot for Odysseus, the great-grandson of the trickster, Hermes.
We see a persistent relationship between handicrafts and trickery in the English language.
From the arts and crafts come the terms “artful” and “crafty” — perhaps because both craftwork and craftiness are concerned with manipulation.
The King James Bible calls David a “cunning player“ of the harp (1 Samuel 16:16). Here “cunning” obviously refers to dexterity and technical skill rather than guile.
The notion of “artifice” is connected both to artificial constructions, as well as deceit.
In my adolescence, I had a peculiar talent for “spinning wool” — for fabrication.
From the word sophia comes not only philosophy, but likewise sophistry — defined as “subtly deceptive reasoning or argumentation“ or “the use of fallacious arguments, especially with the intention of deceiving.“
Sophia as the divine feminine is related to the sephirah of Binah or Understanding, which is related to the ability to “grasp” something. To make it tactile. To REAL-ize. All of this language patently concerns reifying the abstract.
This is apt, as Binah is often likened to a womb. It is related to the Shekinah, the feminine presence of God within creation. Binah is also related to Saturn in the Hermetic tradition.
The deeper meaning of the Gnostic cosmogony is deceptively simple.
When the physicalizing, pragmatic intelligence called Sophia tries to grasp at God or build without the direction of the divine Logos, it constructs an idol; a false god. This false god then constructs an infernal illusory world and traps you there.
An example of the former would be the golden calf constructed by Aaron, and an example of the latter would be the tower of Babel.
It is no coincidence then that the gods of idolaters were fashioned, artificial constructions. Literally, false gods born of “sophia.”
I once told a story about a well-meaning evangelical mechanic I knew, who tried to understand God “biblically,” which is to say, by reading the Bible on his own terms. In doing this, he fashioned a god in his own image which then took to dourly oppressing his household.
I could point to another example of this phenomenon in the Saturnine god of Freemasonry, who is called “the Great Architect of the Universe.” Quite literally, a god of artifice, fashioned by self-proclaimed “masons.”
I suspect this is the reason Rudolf Steiner accused the occult societies of his day of working for the dictatorial, technical spirit called by him, Ahriman.
Jesus Christ too was a builder. He was said to have been a carpenter.
The difference of course is that Christ as the Logos completes Sophia. Without her consort, the Word of God, she remains a fallen, erring, technical artificer. With him, she helps to build the Kingdom of God.
Addendum:
On several occasions it has been suggested to me that Zell, the spirit who brought me to the holy grail is Sophia.
I have, until recently, been reluctant to believe it.
My foxy enchantress has a darkly alluring guile and mystique about her. It always seemed unbecoming of the consort of the Christ. She’s cheeky, sly and snakishly shrewd.
She casts spells with a roguish strut. Her eyes can kill. She slinks like a lynx and winks like a minx. Not nearly as innocent or demure as a good Christian would be inclined to expect.
All this, I now think, does not suggest that she isn’t Sophia, but that she is.
To my eye though, the most compelling evidence by far is this:
Sophia is directly related to construction. To craftwork. Work done with one’s hands. Zell’s synchronistic relationship with the number 527 is therefore incredibly interesting.
The human hand has 5 fingers and 27 bones.
Varinia.
Changeable.
Versatile.
I leave this with you.
One of your weaker arguments yet still as compelling as always.
I expect this hasn’t escaped you but the word (and God) Metis seems to fit in nicely here. I’m thinking of Peter Kingsley and his exposition in his book Reality in reference to Empedocles. I hadn’t put it together with Sophia but it fits. Thank you.