Mountains are not only conspicuous landmarks that shape landscapes in a striking way, they also uniquely represent the connection between heaven and earth. Thus, they play a prominent role in the cosmologies of many different cultures, are regularly privileged points of reference for religious ideas and places of ritual acts, and are also religiously revered as such to varying degrees.
On the one hand, neither the Greek nor the Roman religions – despite the Greek idea of Mount Olympus as the seat of the gods – attribute a key religious significance to mountains as such.1 On the other hand, summit and mountain sanctuaries claim a prominent place in Bronze Age Crete.2 Above all, however, it is in the regions of the Near East, especially Anatolia, Syria, and northern Mesopotamia, where mountain sanctuaries house the main deities of the cultures, namely mountain, storm, and weather gods. Many of these sanctuaries also represent supra-regionally highly significant cult sites, and the mountains themselves are considered sacred.3
The continuity not only of the cult sites but also of the ancient mountain and weather gods into Hellenistic-Roman times is a striking feature of the religious history of the eastern Mediterranean. They have an unbroken connection with the main Greek god Zeus and maintain, at the same time, their identity by being worshipped under their local names.4
At the latest with the legalisation of Christianity, these sanctuaries also came under the scrutiny of the Church and its efforts to comprehensively Christianise the Empire, which included its rural regions. Christianity, as an essentially city-based religious movement, barely reached the rural population until the Constantinian shift. Only with the dynamic development of monasticism in the fourth century did it become possible to reach rural territory. Before that, in the first three centuries, missionary efforts in the hinterland of the cities had taken place only rarely.5
At the same time, the mountain shrines posed a special challenge because of the Old Testament tradition, where the word of God says:
You shall destroy all the places wherein the nations that you shall dispossess served their gods, upon the high mountains, and upon the hills, and under every green tree: and you shall break down their altars, and dash in pieces their pillars, and burn their Asherim with fire; and you shall hew down the graven images of their gods; and you shall destroy their name out of that place.6
In the wake of Judaism, Christianity as a monotheistic religion denied any other gods and cults the right to exist and in late antiquity also repeatedly took violent action against pagan shrines, destroying temples and cult statues.7 At the same time, it must be immediately emphasised, the new religion lacked a concept of sacred space and holy places. Since the days of the apostle Paul, it vehemently rejected any such ideas. Only with Constantine and his religious innovations in the Church – church building including sacralisation of the church space, discovery of the holy land, etc. – did the conceptual preconditions develop to finally, in the fourth century, accept and shape spatial, topographical, and material holiness in the Christian sphere.8
Thus the subject of this study, the fate of the mountain sanctuaries in the Late Antique Roman Near East in the course of Christianisation, is necessarily also embedded in a much broader, fundamental theme: namely, that of the Christian development and profound transformation of the established sacred landscape in the Roman East in Late Antiquity. This perspective is taken up in the concluding part of the paper to be re-examined here with a new thesis: that stylites, a new extremely rigoristic movement in late antique Syrian asceticism, were the key agents in the conquest of the formerly pagan world of the mountains by Christianity.
When one looks at the available sources, it becomes clear that such an investigation can only be made within geographical limits. In view of the abundant source material, this will be, in the context of this contribution, the region of northern Syria. More precisely, the investigation must be limited to the Antiochéne, the territory and hinterland of the Greek metropolis of Syria, Antioch (Figure 15.1).
Map: Surroundings of Antioch with the Amanus mountain range in the north and Mount Kasios in the south (left). On the right edge of the picture below, the north-western foothills of the limestone massif
© D. VAN BERCHEM, ‘LE PORT DE SÉLEUCIE DE PIÉRIE ET L’INFRASTRUCTURE LOGISTIQUE DES GUERRES PARTHIQUES’, BONNER JAHRBÜCHER 185 (1985), 67 (LVR-LANDESMUSEUM BONN, AUSFÜHRUNG JÖRN KRAFT)
This area, especially the limestone massif, experienced an enormous demographic and economic boom in the fourth-sixth centuries. Hundreds of sites flourished. In fact, these so-called ‘Dead Cities’ of northern Syria can still be partially seen today in the mountainous karst landscape criss-crossed by valleys and plains. The unique archaeological situation (the region became deserted from the seventh century onwards due to military and seismological events) has been systematically recorded in a famous French survey, undertaken since the late 1930s.9 This gives a striking view into the life of the Late-Antique rural population and at the same time into the process of Christianisation – and by extension, into the end of paganism and that of the most important mountain shrines of the region.
Pagan contemporaries who followed the process of Christianisation in the territory of Antioch had a clear, albeit biased, judgement about the role of the monks. The sophist Libanius, himself a respected citizen of Antioch and a large landowner in the surrounding area, deplored the actions of those ascetics with the following words:
But this black-robed tribe, who eat more than elephants, … hasten to attack the temples with sticks and stones and bars of iron, and in some cases, disdaining these, with hands and feet. Then utter desolation follows, with the stripping of roofs, demolition of walls, the tearing down of statues and the overthrow of altars, and the priests must either keep quiet or die. After demolishing one, they scurry to another, and to a third, and trophy is piled on trophy, in contravention of the law. Such outrages occur even in the cities, but they are most common in the countryside. … So they sweep across the countryside like rivers in spate, and by ravaging the temples, they ravage the estates, for wherever they tear out a temple from an estate, that estate is blinded and lies murdered. Temples are the soul of the countryside: they mark the beginning of its settlement, and have been passed down through many generations to the men of today.10
One should not attach too much weight to this highly rhetorical – and here much abridged – polemic. But it does sharpen the view for the interpretation of the following findings, which are of an archaeological nature and focus on genuine mountain sanctuaries. At the same time, Libanius’ condemnation raises the question of the precise role of the northern Syrian ascetics in the transformation of Antioch’s hinterland, i.e. of their instrumental, even violent, role in the transformation of the religious landscape of northern Syria. Particularly significant is the role of the ascetics for the end of the pagan cults and sanctuaries on the one hand, and their contribution to the shaping of a Christian-determined rural space on the other, i.e. a landscape in which the ancient sacral traditions and cult practices were not only suppressed or repressed, but actually replaced. Indeed, new places and forms of worship emerged and came to fruition, which were able to satisfy the spiritual and cultic needs of contemporary society.
The study must start with an analysis of the significance of the pagan hilltop sanctuaries in northern Syria (Figure 15.2) and their fate in the course of the Christianisation of the rural area close to the Mediterranean coast. Here, Mount Kasios or Jebel al-Aqra is the highest peak in northern Syria (1728 m) (Figure 15.3); it is indisputably the most important mountain in the entire region, not only geographically but also religiously and historically.
Map: Antioch (Antakya), the Orontes plain, and the northern limestone massif with marking of the location of the sanctuaries dealt with in the text: 1. Mount Kasios – 2. Sheikh Barakat – 3. Qalʾat Simʿān – 4. Srir – 5. Kafr Daryan – 6. Wondrous Mountain
© Google Maps
Jebel al-Aqra (Kel Dağı/Berg Kasios), seen from the site of ancient Seleucia Pieria
Julien Aliquot 2009 © CNRS Hisoma_IGLS
Rising steeply from the Mediterranean coastline with a prominent peak and still densely forested in antiquity, it was the focus of continuous cultic worship from as early as the second millennium BCE onwards. The site was regarded as the seat of a powerful mountain and weather god not only by the surrounding population, but also by the changing state powers of the region, from Anatolia as well as Mesopotamia. The Ugarites in the south worshipped this deity as the storm god Sapani, the Hurrians and then the Hittites in the north as Shamin or Teshub, and referred to Mount Kasios as the seat of this Ba’al under the name Hazzi.11 A huge ash altar of 55 m in diameter and 9 m high on the summit, whose fire must have been visible from afar, both sea- and landwards, testifies to the uninterrupted cultic use of this sacred mountain. Its aura in the Middle East is also reflected in the Old Testament where it is mentioned as Mount Zaphon. The Greeks, in turn, took over the summit sanctuary on the peak and worshipped their father of the gods here as Zeus Kasios. In Greek mythology, Mount Kasios is associated with the great cosmic battle that took place between Zeus and his greatest enemy, the storm monster Typhon, as they fought for supremacy. After having his tendons cut, Zeus was eventually able to defeat Typhon with his thunderbolt. In worshipping Zeus Kasios, the Greeks drew on the imaginary world of the existing cult tradition and saw in this Zeus above all a protector of navigation and in Mount Kasios a point of reference for astronomy and meteorology. The extraordinary importance of Zeus Kasios in Hellenism and at the same time his profile as the weather and storm god of the eastern Mediterranean manifested itself in the establishment of further cult sites, primarily in the port city of Pelusium in Egypt, and in the spread of votives in ship and anchor form dedicated to Zeus Kasios throughout the Mediterranean.12
No less important was the significance of the holy mountain for the ruler cult in Hellenism, especially for the Seleucids. The establishment of the Syrian tetrapolis, i.e. the founding of Seleucia (within sight of Kasios), Laodicea, Antioch (32 km northeast of Kasios, on the Orontes, which flows into the Mediterranean at the mountain’s foot) and Apamea, and thus at the same time of Seleucid rule in this region, is associated in later tradition – our sources come from Late Antiquity – with the cult of Kasios. Seleucus I is said to have received a sign on Mount Kasios during a sacrifice to Zeus, and then an eagle showed him the way to the site of his future capital, Seleucia. The king had thereupon founded another summit sanctuary on nearby Mount Silpios for the thunder god (Zeus Keraunios). The Olympian Zeus, archegetes of the Seleucid dynasty, was thus specifically linked to the Syrian mountain world.13 The mountain sanctuaries, and their specific connection with weather events, were therefore claimed in the Late-Antique tradition, which is based on sources or legends that we can no longer grasp, as characteristic of Greek cult practice in the northern Syrian region. Indeed, they were directly linked to the founding myths of the important poleis and of Seleucid rule as a whole.
Under Roman rule, these religious ideas were preserved. Above all, the legitimation potential associated with the Zeus Kasios cult was now also used by the new rulers: Trajan and Hadrian sought out the summit shrine to sacrifice there. It is said that a local lightning miracle indicated to the latter his future rule.14 The old aniconic conception of the deity is also preserved undiminished in Hellenistic and Roman times. The urban coinage in northern Syria shows lightning bundles, eagles, baityloi (cult stones), and mountains as symbols (Figure 15.4).15 Anthropomorphic cult objects, including cult statues, are however not known.
Coinage under Trajan, Seleucia Pieria, 114–116 CE, (BMC 41), Æ 26 mm, 11,1 g. Image obverse laureate head right. Image reverse: cult stone (baitylos) of Zeus Kasios within tetrastyle shrine surmounted by eagle, beneath ZEYC KACIOC
From private collection
The significance of the striking continuity and vitality of the montane religious imagination, deeply rooted in popular belief, and the continuous worship of the ancient weather and storm deity in the summit sanctuary on Mount Kasios under changing names, now as Zeus Kasios, is easily overlooked. Yet impressive numismatic findings underline the eminent identity forming function of this cult for the Greek poleis of the region deep into the Roman imperial period, at least until the extinction of provincial coinage in the third century. Emperor Julian also visited the summit sanctuary in 362 CE to perform a hecatomb sacrifice on the huge altar.16
The sources are silent about the circumstances under which the cult of Zeus in the summit sanctuary came to an end in Late Antiquity. Perhaps the undoubtedly then still-existing building structures were also destroyed during the process, or subsequently. What is certain is that the place of worship did not simply become obsolete. The eventual occupation of the holy mountain by the Antiochian Church is reflected in a tradition whose written version dates to the eleventh century: the vita of the ascetic Barlaam, who may have lived as late as the fourth century, attributes to him the foundation of the monastery that arose on the lower second peak of Mount Kasios and the church of which seems to date to the first half of the sixth century (Figure 15.5).17 According to the vita, Barlaam climbed Mount Kasios with exorcistic intentions and established his monastic settlement. He is said to have died there at the age of 80. It cannot be ruled out that the monastery was built on the site using components of a pagan predecessor complex, but this cannot be verified architecturally. A temple to Zeus Kasios, which undoubtedly existed in the vicinity of the ash altar on the summit, could not be found, and a new examination is out of the question in the foreseeable future, as the summit is a restricted military area.
Map: St. Barlaam, location of the monastery on Mount Kasios (Jebel al-Aqra (Kel Dağı)); the path to the main summit with the fire altar is marked on the lower left
© Djobadze e.a. 1986, op. cit. (n. 17), plan B
Mountain sanctuaries are furthermore above all attested in the limestone massif to the east (Figure 15.2). The systematic exploration of the region carried out by G. Tchalenko from 1934 to 1948 led to the identification of almost a dozen presumed summit shrines, which occupied important peaks and thus dominated the landscape.18 In individual cases, the archaeological and partly epigraphic findings as well as literary testimonies allow for more detailed discussion and conclusions about developments between the fourth and seventh centuries, even if certainty, especially with regard to the exact chronology and the relevant actors, can hardly be achieved. A selection of significant findings will be presented here, followed by a new perspective on the process of Christianisation of the traditional sacred landscape with its summit shrines.
The most important sanctuary in the northern limestone massif, a temple to Zeus Madbachos and Selamanes, is located at an altitude of 870 m on top of Jebel Sheikh Barakat, the only real mountain in the limestone massif (Figure 15.6).19 It occupied an impressive artificial terrace of 68 m side length, which overlooked the whole northern plain of Dana. The Corinthian temple built in its centre in Roman times, measuring 16.50 m × 11.50 m with an east-facing porch, was a complex enclosed on all sides by porticos (Figure 15.7). The shrine can be traced back to a Hellenistic predecessor complex. In addition to the form of the building, the decoration also shows strong Hellenistic influences. The consecration of the temple to Zeus Madbachos and Selamanes – again much older local Semitic Baʾal cults, which merged into a Zeus cult here and are thus also expressly designated as ‘ancestral’ gods20 – is attested by numerous inscriptions from the peribolos as well as by its construction already between 80 and 150 CE.
Sheikh Barakat, ruins of the sanctuary, seen from the north
© Gatier 2013, op. cit. (n. 5), fig. 7
Sheikh Barakat, condition in the imperial period (1st–4th c. CE) (reconstruction)
© Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21), fig. 1
In the late fourth or early fifth century, the sanctuary seems to have been converted to Christianity (Figure 15.8).21 The archaeological evidence, however, does not allow us to determine the circumstances of the end of its original use, or of its abandonment, or even of a violent destruction of the pagan cult building.22 Above all, it is not possible to determine how long the cult had been practised in the sanctuary before the structural transformation. Whether it ceased at a certain point in time or had been officially abandoned, perhaps after state intervention, further private worship at the site, which was now presumably abandoned to decay, can by no means ruled out and may also have been tolerated by the authorities. An immediate, even aggressive Christian takeover, including conversion and new religious use, is in any case unlikely, considering the practice of Christian action against pagan sanctuaries elsewhere. Even after violent Christian occupation or destruction, pagan sanctuaries, apart from symbolic acts, were not, contrary to what the hagiographic tradition claims or suggests in a triumphalist perspective, immediately converted into Christian sacred places nor churches rebuilt in their place, but, if not used for profane purposes, first left to their fate after an initial targeted desacralisation. Only after a longer period of time, after years or decades, did people usually dare to dedicate those former dwellings of demons to Christian worship and to build churches on the ground and, if necessary, in the existing walls or using the building material available.23 Only then was the Christianisation of a formerly pagan place of worship completed, and its conversion or transformation to a Christian place of worship finally accomplished.
Sheikh Barakat, condition in late antiquity (4th–7th c. CE) with built in small church (reconstruction)
© Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21), fig. 2
In fact, in the case of the sanctuary of Jebel Sheikh Barakat, this process of transformation and its conditions can be understood even more closely through the literary tradition. It seems beyond doubt that Theodoretus, bishop of Cyrrhus, in whose diocese this section of the limestone massif fell, had precisely this mountain in mind in his account – the so-called historia religiosa, a kind of monastic history written around 440 CE – of the work of important monks in his area of authority when he described its occupation by Christian ascetics:
Lying east of Antioch and west of Beroea, there is a high mountain that rises above the neighbouring mountains and imitates at its topmost summit the shape of a cone. It derives its name from its height, for the local inhabitants are accustomed to calling it “peak” (koryphē). On its very peak there was a precinct of demons much revered by those in the neighbourhood. … Here one Ammianus built a philosophical retreat (phrontistērion). … There are very many other ascetics whom the monk-father Eusebius trained in this way and sent to be teachers in other wrestling-schools, who have filled all that holy mountain with these divine and fragrant pastures.24
There is little to suggest that at the time the ascetics took possession of the mountain – Ammianus may be dated to the middle of the fourth century – a cult was still practised on its summit.25 Only demons, with whom Ammianus disputed this place through his settlement, are still wreaking havoc there – if they had not already abandoned it and the active worship of the local pagan population had become a thing of the past. The entire mountain, certainly by the time of Theodoretus several generations later, is evidently already occupied by ascetics, the spiritual control of the sacred landscape taken over by these Christian protagonists.26
The archaeologically ascertainable remodelling of the sanctuary at the turn of the fourth/fifth century is thus not to be interpreted as a destruction that took place in the context of an open religious conflict, as evoked by Libanius in his polemic quoted at the beginning. Rather, it must have been a later dismantling or spoliation. The temple was indeed dismantled down to the foundations. Only a few structural elements, such as column shafts, remained on site, but these were not very suitable for profane reuse. In any case, other components were used to construct houses in the neighbouring villages.27
The modest chapel built in the ruins on the north side of the peribolos late in the fifth or sixth century cannot be considered as a serious Christian successor to the pagan temple. Unlike other abandoned sanctuaries, the temple terrace on Jebel Sheikh Barakat remained largely unused in Late Antiquity. Instead, a stylite column was erected only a few hundred metres west of the plateau in the direction of the nearby village of Qasr al-Hadid. Its significance will be discussed in more detail below.28
From the perspective of religious history, however, the significance of the structural development on Sheikh Barakat in late antiquity almost completely recedes into the background in view of something that happened only a few kilometres away as the crow flies, actually in view of the ancient sanctuary of Zeus. For on the high ground opposite the plateau of Sheikh Barakat, which borders the great fruit plain of Dana to the southwest (Figure 15.2), in the fifth century a place of worship was built, which within a few decades became the most important place of worship and pilgrimage in northern Syria (Figure 15.9). This was Qalʾat Simʿān, the place where the first stylite of Late Antiquity, Symeon Stylites (the Elder) (c.390–459 CE), took up his previously unknown asceticism of pillar-standing: undoubtedly the most extreme form of ascetic practice originating in Syria, which was truly not lacking in rigorous religious innovations. The voluntary retreat to a metres-high pillar and remaining on it for many years soon became the much admired characteristic of the ‘living’ Christian sacred landscape that was forming in northern Syria. Quite a few ascetics in the region followed the example of Symeon, whose secluded holiness found a tremendous echo in the rural population, but also in the cities of the region. Symeon’s column – the last of the stelae erected by disciples of this holy man had a height of 18 m – on the ridge near the village of Telanissos became a prime destination for Christian believers during the saint’s lifetime and soon a supra-regional pilgrimage centre of rapidly increasing importance (Figure 15.10).29
Qalʾat Simʿān, aerial view, taken September 16, 1936
© Institut français du Proche-Orient, no. Ifpo 22655 (Licence Ouverte 1.0)
Symeon Stylites (?), altar rail panel, basalt, 84 × 76 × 18,5 cm, 260 kg, (5th–6th c. CE)
© Bode-Museum, Berlin. Picture by author
This is not the place to trace the impact of Symeon’s stylitism, which found literary expression in no less than three contemporary biographies and, with the veneration of a living holy man, gave rise to new forms of Christian religiosity and popular devotion.30 It is, however, important that a place of worship and an impressive Christian sanctuary was established on the ridge of the (later so-called) Jebel Simʿān (Figure 15.11). Its church complex, constructed under the patronage of Emperor Zeno within 15 years after Symeon’s death, included the largest Christian church of the time, which was only to be surpassed by the construction of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople under Justinian in 537 CE. The centre of the complex and at the same time the centre point of the cruciform Symeon’s church was the column of the deceased stylite (Figure 15.12).31
Qalʾat Simʿān, ground plan of monastery complex
© J.-L. BISCOP – J.-P. SODINI, ‘TRAVAUX À QALʾAT SEMʿAN’, IN: ACTES DU XIe CONGRÈS INTERNATIONAL D’ARCHÉOLOGIE CHRÉTIENNE 1986, VOL. 2, CITTÀ DEL VATICANO (1989), 1676, FIG. 1
Qalʾat Simʿān, view of octagon with remains of Symeon Stylites’ column
© ARIAN ZWEGERS, WIKIMEDIA COMMONS (UNDER CREATIVE COMMONS CC)
Far away from the urban settlements of the coast and of the Syrian interior, a Christian sacred place now existed, deep in the northern Syrian limestone massif, on a mountain height, visible from afar. It outshone the nearby pagan sanctuary on Sheikh Barakat, which had been so important before, and caused it to sink into final insignificance – if it had not already been abandoned long ago, as discussed above.
There are, however, other pagan sacred sites in the area that, according to archaeological evidence, were taken over by Christians in Late Antiquity. South of the plain of Dana, about 15 km as the crow flies from Jebel Sheikh Barakat with its Madbachos and Selamanes sanctuary and from the pilgrimage centre of Qalʾat Simʿān, on an artificial terrace, near the ancient village of Tilokbarein (today Tell Aqibrin) on the summit of a 560 m high mountain, Jebel Srir, there was a temple of 7 m × 6 m in size built in the first half of the second century CE. It was dedicated to Zeus Tourbarachos and it received, in the course of an extension in 150 CE, a pronaos of 8.80 m × 5 m, which was also enclosed by a peribolos. In front of the temple was a monumental altar (Figure 15.13).32
Srir, Zeus Tourbarachos-sanctuary with temenos-wall, temple und altar (2th–4th c. CE) (reconstruction)
© Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21), 746, fig. 5
The complex was converted into a convent in Late Antiquity. However, as in the case for the sanctuary of Jebel Sheikh Barakat, the question must remain unanswered as to how long the pagan cult building remained in use and under what circumstances its Christian takeover took place. The affixing of two Christograms on column shafts of the pronaos may indicate that the occupation was initially provisional. Whether the temple also served temporarily as a Christian chapel, as K. Freyberger considers conceivable, is doubtful, as it would contradict the otherwise tangible Christian restraint with regard to an immediate conversion. What is more decisive is that directly below the small temple terrace, but still in the walled temenos of the sanctuary, an approximately 12 m high stylite column was erected and buildings of a modest monastery complex were constructed directly around it (Figure 15.14).
Srir, Christianised sanctuary with stylite, church and pilgrims’ hostel (4th–7th c. CE) (reconstruction)
© Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21), fig. 6
The former temple, on the other hand, was remodelled while retaining substantial parts of its masonry, and a tower, possibly a recluse tower, was erected above its adyton, while the former pronaos now served as a courtyard. A small single-nave church, on the other hand, was built in the south-eastern area of the sanctuary precinct in front of the stylite column. The church had an underground chamber inside, which may have been used as a collective tomb for the monks. A large building on the opposite side of the stylite column with a portico on its eastern façade probably served to house the monks.
The former sanctuary district was thus filled with a church and functional buildings in addition to the column, while the former temple was pragmatically adapted and expanded to new needs while largely preserving the wall features. The original entrance to the district was also retained, but a small gateway was added. A more precise chronological determination of the structural developments and the religious use of the complex in Late Antiquity does not seem possible. It should be noted that the stylite column signified the new focus of the entire complex, and represented the spiritual centre of the monastery. Its erection also preceded the construction of the buildings immediately surrounding it. The latter were aligned with the column and added afterwards.
Other mountain shrines in the immediate vicinity were also taken over by Christians in the period of interest here and permanently secured as ascetic seats and monasteries for the new faith. Ten kilometres southwest of Jebel Sheikh Barakat, on a hilltop, lie the foundation walls of the small convent of Kafr Daryan (Figure 15.15). It was dominated by a stylite column that still remains toppled in the middle of the sanctuary (Figure 15.16). Right next to the foundations of the column, against the wall of the convent, is a single tomb: undoubtedly that of the deceased stylite(s) who were the religious reference point of the community.33
Convent of Kafr Daryan with base of the stylite column from east with fragment of column shaft in background
© FRANK KIDNER COLLECTION, DUMBARTON OAKS, TRUSTEES FOR HARVARD UNIVERSITY, WASHINGTON, DC (CREATIVE COMMONS)
Convent of Kafr Daryan with stylite column and stylite grave (left) (reconstruction)
© TCHALENKO 1953, OP. CIT. (N. 9), VOL. II, PL. CLXXXIV
Twelve kilometres northeast of Jebel Sheikh Barakat, above the village of Kalota, to which, 600 m east of the sanctuary, a road was the only access, there was a sanctuary measuring 59 m × 48 m with two temples with small porticoes. They had been built and dedicated to Zeus Seimios and Symbetylos in the second century CE according to a preserved building inscription. Older enclosure walls indicate the existence of at least one predecessor building. Here too, of course, as indicated by the double epiclesis of the deity, existed a cult tradition going back a long way.34 The cross in deep relief on the lintel of the larger temple indicates that the pagan sacred buildings were first symbolically desacralised, but remained undestroyed for the time being.35 It was only at an indeterminable later date, perhaps still in the fifth century, that a large basilica with three naves was built in their place. Large sections of the walls of the pagan predecessor buildings were included in the new construction: namely the east wall of the smaller of the two temples and the entire north side as well as part of the east wall of the larger temple. Numerous structural elements of both buildings were also used for the decoration of the new church, while unusable elements were broken up and used as a gravel surface around the basilica. Later construction measures, probably dating to the sixth century, suggest that the complex now housed a monastic community. This church is indeed, as H.C. Butler noted already in 1920, “the only example in all Northern Syria of a Christian church in which there are incorporated considerable portions of a pagan temple”.36
A similar finding is made with regard to the summit sanctuary at Burdj Baqirha, which is situated on a 558 m high hill that dominates the western foothills of the plain of Dana, the plain of Sermada.37 A dedicatory inscription to Zeus Bomos, dating to 161 CE, is carved on the monumental portal of the peribolos, while other inscriptions attest to construction work up to 238 CE. In view of the name of the deity worshipped in the sanctuary, ‘Zeus Altar’, at least one Hellenistic predecessor cult may have existed here as well. Of the temple, a four-columned prostylos of Corinthian order and sections of wall of 10 m high have survived. However, the building does not seem to have been put to new cultic use in late antiquity, but to have served other purposes through the addition of storeys. The scant archaeological evidence related to the situation in Late Antiquity, however, does not permit any reliable interpretation, not even of the time of the ‘end’ of the temple.
At this point, an interim conclusion is possible. The rise in demographic and economic prosperity of the mountainous landscape of northern Syria in late antiquity, which had been characterised by important sanctuaries since ancient times and whose cult tradition had continued without interruption in the Hellenistic and Roman period, was accompanied by a sustained Christianisation. This is visible in the extensive hinterland of the Syrian cities of the region, above all through the archaeological evidence. The end of the old pagan sanctuaries, however, unlike what the pagan rhetor Libanius so eloquently suggested towards the end of the fourth century, did not occur as a result of systematic attacks and fanatical destruction by Christian monks. Rather, the archaeological and literary evidence suggests that those sanctuaries had regularly been abandoned and were perhaps still sporadically venerated in private, without us being able to pinpoint the time of their extinction. There is no doubt that ascetics played a decisive role in the ‘conquest’, which was certainly mostly peaceful; their settlement in places of retreat suitable for asceticism meant the Christian appropriation of this landscape, which resulted in the successive conversion of the rural population. Summit and mountain shrines were, it seems, popular places for the establishment of ascetic dwellings and settlements of (individual) monks. The occupation by monastic communities, now also in the abandoned buildings of mountain shrines, marked the next phase, which was accompanied by the conversion and structural adaptation of these buildings. These became Christian sanctuaries, new sacred places.
It is worth emphasising that stylites played a special role in this process of Christianisation in northern Syria. Following the example of the first stylite, Symeon the Elder, who had climbed his column on a ridge within sight of the temple complex on Sheikh Barakat and had successively ascended to higher and higher columns donated by believers, stylites built and ascended their columns on mountain summits, often in the midst of or in close relation to former pagan sanctuaries. In this way, they took possession of the old sacred sites and visibly disempowered them by their sheer proximity and religious practice. The stylites can therefore justifiably be addressed as the ascetic spearhead in the Christian appropriation of the pagan landscape of northern Syria.
Their spectacular ceaseless asceticism in the open air, regardless of heat, rain and cold, and assisted by disciples who took over their care (and soon formed monastic communities), visibly demonstrated their closeness to God and made them, as undeniably holy men, objects of requests and worship. Believers sought them out for healing and help through their prayers and intercession. The swelling stream of pilgrims gave rise to the erection of pilgrims’ hostels and, particularly impressive in the case of Telanissos, to extensive pilgrimage centres. In addition to the Christian infrastructure of buildings and personnel, the constant influx and presence of pilgrims ensured an increasingly Christian appearance of the northern Syrian landscape, which accompanied the Christianisation of the rural population.
The special relationship of the stylite to the sky, and thus also the choice of the location of his column on a hilltop or mountain peak, was perceived, indeed experienced, by every visitor on his or her ascent to the place of worship – especially when early morning fog covered the slopes or still filled the valley depressions and the view of the column with the lonely ascetic only opened up in the course of the ascent. It must have been no less impressive for the pilgrim who had toiled up the mountain to encounter abandoned lower columns, which the stylite (on Christ’s orders, as it was told) had left to climb a higher monument erected by worshippers and disciples, finally measuring about 18 m.
The site of the younger Symeon on the rocky spur which overlooked the road from Antioch to the Mediterranean was popularly called Wondrous Mountain because of the many miracles the stylite worked at this site (Figure 15.17). The pilgrimage centre, which was built on the hilltop within a decade (Figure 15.18, Figure 15.19) and completed in 551 CE,38 offers a remarkable finding. The central construction with the octagon and the column in its centre took architectural account of the spiritual character of stylitism. While the naves converging on the central building were roofed, the column itself, enclosed by the octagon, stood free; it must have towered far above the complex (Figure 15.20, Figure 15.21). With its platform, it offered the pillar-stander an open-air home exposed to wind and weather for 41 years (Figure 15.22). Pilgrims seeking help later explained that at the moment of their healing they had seen the heavenly grace obtained by Symeon as a flash of lightning. The idea of the ancient weather deity thus manifesting its power is unmistakable. However, Symeon’s teaching, of which we have some evidence in the form of sermons and letters, does not relate to any such ideas; it focuses, conventionally, upon uncompromising moral standards and presents the stylite as an experienced combatant with demons.39
Map: Location of the Wondrous Mountain above the Orontes between Antioch and Mediterranean coast (with Mount Kasios in the south)
© BERCHEM 1985, OP. CIT. (FIG. 15.1), 67 (LVR-LANDESMUSEUM BONN, AUSFÜHRUNG JÖRN KRAFT)
Map: Location of the monastery of Symeon the Younger on the rocky spur of the Wondrous Mountain above the Orontes plain
© Djobadze e.a., op. cit. (n. 17), plan G
Aerial View of the monastery of Symeon the Younger on the Wondrous Mountain near Antioch, above the Orontes
© Djobadze e.a., op. cit. (n. 17), fig. 111
Monastery of Symeon the Younger, ground plan of the condition in the 6th–7th c. CE
© Djobadze e.a. 1986, op. cit. (n. 17), plan F
Monastery of Symeon the Younger on the Wondrous Mountain near Antioch: the Octogon with the remains of the column and (front left) the massive basis for the ladder to climb the column. In the background the mountain range beyond the Orontes plain
© Josh Ryvers
Reconstruction of the column of Symeon the Younger
© DJOBADZE E.A. 1986, OP. CIT. (N. 17), FIG. XXI
The overwriting of earlier pagan sites of worship on mountains and hills by monastic complexes is to be understood, as previously explained, as a deliberate destruction, displacement, and permanent replacement. It represents the eradication of the traditional sacred landscape by a Christian one. The pillars of the stylites, however, occupy a position of their own here, and contain a special semantics. All are located in highly visible places; we have discussed several of the monuments located on mountains and their pagan predecessors. Indeed, stylite columns are placed on some of the highest elevations of the limestone massif, as was the case at Jebel Srir and Jebel Sheikh Barakat. The column of the first stylite, the elder Symeon, above the village of Telanissos, is spectacularly located, with a sweeping view across the Dana plain in the northern limestone massif, directly across from one of the most important pagan Syriac sanctuaries of all, the temple of Zeus Madbachos and Salamanes. After the death of the great stylite in 459 CE and the subsequent construction of the massive pilgrimage complex between 476 and 490 CE, the new Christian sanctuary and the column of Symeon preserved in its centre finally trumped the nearby sanctuary of the ancient weather god both visually and religiously.
The stylite columns did not only function as simple foci of piety for the rural population of the surrounding area. They were also living landmarks of enormous charisma, visible from afar, which spiritually charged their wider spatial surroundings. They gave the landscape a specific Christian imprint – negating earlier pagan shrines and hilltop sanctuaries. Stylites became key elements of the new Christian rural geography.
Since these monuments were not only located on ground elevations, but regularly at the same time next to or close to important overland routes, the holy men on their pillars visually and spiritually dominated the main arteries of life in northern Syria (Figure 15.23, Figure 15.24).40 Travellers from Antioch to Chalkis or Beroia, or even to Cyrrhus in the north, were always within sight of stylites, passing a holy man on his pillar every hour (Figure 15.25).
Map: Stylite-martyria in the northern Syrian limestone massif
© Schachner 2010, op. cit. (n. 40), fig. 11
Map: Stylite-martyria, pilgrim hostels, and overland routes in the northern Syrian limestone massif
© Schachner 2010, op. cit. (n. 40), fig. 12
Map: Stylite-martyria and their visibility in the limestone massif in northern Syria
© Schachner 2010, op. cit. (n. 40), fig. 15
Stylites and their columns thus embodied, I argue, a completely new type of ‘high-altitude sanctuary’. They realised a religious Christian presence which, if we may believe contemporary sources, left its mark on the reality of life for wide circles of the population.
The impact of the stylites was not limited to their immediate surroundings, despite their strict localisation, not to say their statuary immobility. Stylites contributed to the new faith’s penetration of the Syrian hinterland through their ceaseless preaching and constant interventions.41 Even nomadic Arab tribes were converted by them, according to tradition. But visitors and pilgrims also came from all the cities of Syria, and from all the eastern provinces. The body of the elder Symeon was taken from the limestone mountains to Antioch immediately after his death, then by imperial order to Constantinople. Emperor Zenon himself commissioned and financed the construction of the pilgrimage complex of Qalʾat Simʿān. The stylites cultivated their extreme asceticism on their pillars in the Syrian hinterland year after year, decade after decade; their fame and spiritual impact transcended all borders, and was felt in the urban societies of the area and beyond, even influencing the great religious disputes of the time.42 In their deliberately chosen seclusion and their exclusiveness, stylites in Christian Late Antiquity paradoxically contributed to overcoming the contrast between city and country.
The stylites themselves, meditating on their pillars, climbed and realised the ‘mountain of virtue’. From this, similar to Moses, they drew their charisma and power. With their proximity to heaven, they imitated the Old Testament lawgiver and probably also evoked the image of the ladder to heaven in the beholder.43 The pillar marked the vertical connection of God’s heavenly realm of residence with the earthly holy place where the ascetic was praying day and night, thus able to impart divine salvation to his fellow human beings.
In this respect, the pillar and the mountain were indispensable for the mission of the stylites, and the place of their asceticism constitutive for their identity, their specific angelikòs bíos, and for their claim to be ordained by God to teach and instruct their fellow men. At the same time, the mountain and the ascent to it, as well as to the pillar, were sacralised, and the formerly pagan world of the mountains was occupied by Christianity through the pillar-standers. In the perception of Christian contemporaries, the ascetics fought here with the devil and his demons (Figure 15.26). Stylites seized this liminal world from the satanic powers that sought their retreat in this wilderness to escape the triumph of the cross. In the words of the Syrian theologian Jacob of Sarug about the incarnation of Jesus, his epiphany on earth:
On the tops of the mountains He builds monasteries in place of the temples of Fortuna, and on the hills He builds places of worship in place of idolatrous sanctuaries, and on the abandoned ruined sites He establishes dwellings for the hermits. Everywhere where the lying demons used to chant, He establishes worship. … In every corner … his light penetrates.44
Symeon Stylites, gilded silver ex voto, 26,9 × 25,5 cm, church treasure of Ma’aret, Noman (Syria), (end of 6th c. CE) (Louvre)
© Wikimedia Commons
To conclude, the mountain heights and hilltops on which stylites practised their asceticism became a prominent space of communication and nature that had previously been completely alien to Christianity and which now gained its own significance and theological dignity. Only with these developments was the transformation of the pagan mountain world and its shrines into a Christian sacred landscape completed: a sacred landscape formed by a dense network of monasteries, hermitages, stylite shrines, and a constant stream of pilgrims (Figure 15.27).
Symeon Stylites in landscape, (Aleppo) icon (second half 17th c.)
© Wikimedia Commons
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to Massimo Vitiello and Joanna Carraway Vitiello for help with the English translation of this paper and for other suggestions. Thanks are also due to Olivier Hekster for his meticulous reading of the text and his comments on it.
M.K. Langdon, ‘Mountains in Greek Religion’, Classical World 93 (2000), 463–470; K. Sporn, ‘“Der göttliche Helikon”. Bergkulte oder Kulte auf den Bergen in Griechenland?’, in: R. Breitwieser, M. Frass, and G. Nightingale, eds., Calamus: Festschrift für Herbert Graßl zum 65. Geburtstag (Wiesbaden 2015), 465–77. See also J. Maringer, ‘Der Berg in Kunst und Kult der vor- und frühgeschichtlichen Zeit’, Zeitschrift für Religions- und Geistesgeschichte 32 (1980), 255–258; R. Buxton, ‘Imaginary Greek Mountains’, Journal of Hellenic Studies 112 (1992), 1–15. A. Belis, Fire on the Mountain: a Comprehensive Study of Greek Mountaintop sanctuaries (2 volumes), PhD dissertation, Princeton University 2015 offers a valuable overview of the Greek evidence. See on Mount Olympus now A. Lichtenberger, Der Olymp. Sitz der Götter zwischen Himmel und Erde (Stuttgart 2021).
A.A.D. Peatfield, ‘The Topography of Minoan Peak Sanctuaries’, Annual of the British School of Athens 78 (1983), 273–280; A.A.D. Peatfield, ‘Minoan Peak Sanctuaries. History and Society’, Opuscula Atheniensia 18 (1990), 117–131; K. Nowicki, ‘Some Remarks on New Peak Sanctuaries in Crete’, Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts 122 (2007), 1–31.
A.R.W. Green, The Storm God in the Ancient Near East (Biblical and Judaic Studies 8) (Winona Lake, IN 2003); B. Jacobs, ‘Bergheiligtum und Heiliger Berg. Überlegungen zur Wahl des Nemrud Dağı-Gipfels als Heiligtums- und Grabstätte’, in: J. Hahn and C. Ronning, eds., Religiöse Landschaften (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 301) (Münster 2002), 31–47; M. Blömer, ‘Der Mons Argaios und andere göttliche Berge in römischer Zeit’, in: B. Engels, S. Huy and C. Steitler, eds., Natur und Kult in Anatolien (BYZAS 24) (Istanbul 2019), 253–282. On the ancient Near Eastern tradition of deifying mountains see also J. Aliquot, La vie religieuse au Liban sous l’Empire romain (Bibliothèque archéologique et historique 189), Beyrouth 2009, 20–23. One important example of continuously revered sacred mountains in the Iron Age and in antiquity is Dülük Baba Tepesi in Commagene where the old storm god of Doliche and his sanctuary evolved into the mediterranean-wide worshipped Jupiter Dolichenus in the Roman period: E. Winter, ‘The Cult of Iupiter Dolichenus and its Origins’, in: S. Nagel et al. eds., Entangled Worlds. Religious Confluences between East and West in the Roman Empire. The Cults of Isis, Mithras and Jupiter Dolichenus (Orientalische Religionen in der Antike 21), Tübingen 2017, 79–95; E. Winter, ed., Vom eisenzeitlichen Heiligtum zum christlichen Kloster. Neue Forschungen auf dem Dülük Baba Tepesi (Dolichener und Kommagenische Forschungen 9 = Asia Minor Studien 94), Bonn 2017.
A. Wiznura and C.G. Williamson, ‘Mountains of Memory. Triangulating Landscape, Cult and Regional Identity through Zeus’, Pharos 24 (2018–2020), 77–112 as well as the bibliography in the preceding note.
For Syria see P.-L. Gatier, ‘La christianisation de la Syrie. L’exemple de l’Antiochène’, Topoi. Orient-Occident 12 (2013), 61–96, for Palestine D. Bar, ‘Rural Monasticism as a Key Element in the Christianization of Byzantine Palestine’, Harvard Theological Review 98 (2005), 49–65. The tradition for earlier systematic efforts is problematic. A striking example – and at the same time an exception – is the work of Gregory Thaumatourgos (c.210–c.270 CE) in the Pontus region, if we may believe his vita – actually a panegyric – from the pen of Gregory of Nyssa, written only four generations later, around 380 CE, which already unfolds a retrospective-programmatic agenda and exaggerates the successes of the missionary work. When Gregory arrived, he found an area with just 17 Christians, but at his death only 17 pagans were still living there (Greg. Nys., V. Greg. Thaum. PG 46. 920a, 909b–c). On the problem of tradition see R. van Dam, ‘Hagiography and History. The Life of Gregory Thaumaturgus’, Classical Antiquity 1 (1982), 272–308; R. Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians (London 1987), 528–539; S. Mitchell, Anatolia. Land, Men, and Gods in Asia Minor, vol. II: The Rise of the Church (Oxford 1993), 53–57.
Dtn 7, 12. In summary on the significance of mountains in antiquity, in particular in Judaism and Christianity, E. Stommel and M. Kloeppel, ‘Berg’, Reallexikon für Antike und Christentum 2 (1954), 136–138.
B. Caseau, ‘The Fate of Rural Temples in Late Antiquity and the Christianisation of the Countryside’, in: W. Bowden, L. Lavan and C. Machado, eds., Recent Research on the Late Antique Countryside (Leiden 2004), 105–144; H. Saradi, ‘The Christianization of Pagan Temples in the Greek Hagiographical Texts’, in: J. Hahn, S. Emmel and U. Gotter, eds., From Temple to Church. Destruction and Renewal of Local Cultic Topography in Late Antiquity (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 163) (Leiden 2008), 113–143; U. Gotter, ‘Thekla gegen Apoll. Überlegungen zur Transformation regionaler Sakraltopographie in der Spätantike’, Klio 85 (2003), 189–211. Comprehensive on religiously motivated violence in late antiquity J. Hahn, Gewalt und religiöser Konflikt. Studien zu den Auseinandersetzungen zwischen Christen, Heiden und Juden im Osten des Römischen Reiches (von Konstantin bis Theodosius II.) (Klio-Beiheft 7) (Berlin 2004); M. Gaddis, There is No Crime for Those Who Have Christ. Religious Violence in the Christian Roman Empire (Transformation of the Classical Heritage 39) (Berkeley 2005); T. Sizgorich, Violence and Belief in Late Antiquity. Militant Devotion in Christianity and Islam (Philadelphia 2009), and most recently contributions in J. Dijkstra and C. Raschle, eds., Religious Violence in the Ancient World (Cambridge 2020).
J. Hahn, ‘Wie können Orte Christen heilig sein? Konstantins Kirchenbau, die „Entdeckung“ des Heiligen Landes und die Anfänge einer christlichen Sakraltopographie’, in: R. Achenbach, ed., Heilige Orte der Antike (Münster 2018), 236–263.
G. Tchalenko, Villages antiques de la Syrie du Nord. Le Massif du Bélus à l’époque romaine, I–III (Paris 1953/58); G. Tate, Les campagnes de la Syrie du Nord du IIe au VIIe siècle: un exemple d’expansion démographique et économique à la fin de l’Antiquité (Paris 1992).
Liban., Or. 30 (Pro templis), 8 (trl. A.F. Norman). On the meaning and significance of this much-quoted speech, see the interdisciplinary contributions in the volume edited by H.-G. Nesselrath et al., Für Religionsfreiheit, Recht und Toleranz. Libanios’ Rede für den Erhalt der heidnischen Tempel (SAPERE 18) (Tübingen 2011).
A. Salac, ‘Zeus Kasios’, Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique 46 (1922), 160–189; K. Koch, ‘Ḫazzi-Ṣafôn-Kasion. Die Geschichte eines Berges und seiner Gottheiten’, in: B. Janowski, K. Koch and G. Wilhelm, eds., Religionsgeschichtliche Beziehungen zwischen Kleinasien, Nordsyrien und dem Alten Testament (Orbis biblicus et orientalis 129) (Freiburg 1993), 171–223.
E.W. Reed, ‘Creating the Sacred Landscape of Mount Kasios’, in: R. Häussler and G.F. Chiai, eds., Sacred Landscapes in Antiquity. Creation, Manipulation, Transformation (Oxford 2020), 87–94; A. Collar, ‘Sinews of Belief, Anchors of Devotion. The Cult of Zeus Kasios in the Mediterranean’, in: E.H. Seland and H.F. Teigen, eds., Sinews of Empire. Networks and Regional Interaction in the Roman Near East and Beyond (Oxford 2017), 23–36; A. Collar, ‘Movement, Labour and Devotion: a Virtual Walk to the Sanctuary at Mount Kasios’, in: A. Collar and T. Myrup Christensen eds., Pilgrimage and Economy in the Ancient Mediterranean (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 192) (Leiden 2020), 33–61. For recent results of the excavation of a temple of Zeus Kasios in the ancient city of Pelusium see The Jerusalem Post of April 22, 2022 (online https://www.jpost.com/archaeology/article-705259).
Malal., Chron. 8, 12 (p. 198f.) is the main source. On the Seleucid foundation myths D. Ogden, The Legend of Seleucus. Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World (Cambridge 2017), especially 107–109.
Trajan is said to have sacrificed to Zeus Kasios, “Lord of the black clouds” (kelainephés), to obtain a battle victory; Anth., Pal. 6, 332. On this as well as on the other evidence Reed 2020, op. cit. (n. 12), 91.
K. Erickson, The Early Seleucids, Their Gods and Their Coins (London 2019). For Antioch and now R. McAlee, The Coins of Roman Antioch (Lancaster 2007) and now K.M. Neumann, Antioch in Syria: A History from Coins (300 BCE–450 CE) (Cambridge 2021).
Amm. Marc., 22, 12, 6.
For dating based on the assessment of architectural details, cf. W. Djobadze et al., Archaeological Investigations in the Region West of Antioch-on-the-Orontes (Forschungen zur Kunstgeschichte und Christlichen Archäologie 13) (Stuttgart 1986), 25–27.
The results of the surveys and excavations are presented in his monumental work Villages antiques de la Syrie du Nord. Le Massif du Bélus à l’époque romaine, I–III, Paris, 1953/58. Cf. also Tate 1992, op. cit. (n. 9). On Tchalenko’s biography and achievements, see now E.L. Leeming and J. Tchalenko, eds., Notes on the Sanctuary of St. Symeon Stylites at Qalʿat Simʿān (Texts and Studies in Eastern Christianity 12) (Leiden/Boston 2019), particularly 1–26. On the mountain shrines see also O. Callot and J. Marcillet-Jaubert, ‘Hauts-lieux de Syrie du nord, temples et sanctuaires’, in: G. Roux, ed., Temples et sanctuaires (Lyon 1984), 185–202.
For this shrine see, with the older bibliography, Callot and Marcillet-Jaubert 1984, op. cit. (n. 18), 190 and K.S. Freyberger, ‘Zur Nachnutzung heidnischer Heiligtümer aus Nord- und Südsyrien’, in: H.-G. Nesselrath et al., Libanios. Für Religionsfreiheit, Recht und Toleranz (SAPERE 18) (Tübingen 2011), 179–226: 180–181.
For the etymology and meaning see F. Millar, The Roman Near East 31 BC–AD 337 (Cambridge, Mass./London 1993), 254–255. He points out that Zeus Madbachos is equivalent to Zeus Bomos in the nearby Burj Baqirha, meaning ‘Zeus (the) altar’. The Semitic god Selamanes can even be traced back to the second millennium BC.
O. Callot, ‘La christianisation des sanctuaires romains de la Syrie du Nord’, Topoi. Orient-Occident 7.2 (1997), 735–750: 737–738.
Freyberger 2011, op. cit. (n. 19), 180 n. 6; B. Ward-Perkins, ‘The End of the Temples: an Archaeological Problem’, in: J. Hahn, ed., Spätantiker Staat und religiöser Konflikt. Imperiale und lokale Verwaltung und die Gewalt gegen Heiligtümer (Millennium Studien 34) (Berlin 2011), 187–199.
See the contributions in: J. Hahn, S. Emmel and U. Gotter, eds., From Temple to Church. Destruction and Renewal of Local Cultic Topography in Late Antiquity (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 163) (Leiden/Boston 2008) as well as A. Busine, ‘Introduction’, in: ead., ed., Religious Practices and Christianization of the Late Antique City (4th–7th cent.) (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 182) (Leiden/Boston 2015), 1–18; J. Hahn, ‘Public Rituals of Depaganization in Late Antiquity’, in A. Busine, ed., Religious Practices and Christianization of the Late Antique City (4th–7th cent.) (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 182) (Leiden/Boston) 2015, 115–140. Also informative is the regional study by R. Bayliss, Provincial Cilicia and the Archaeology of Temple Conversion (BAR Intern. Series 1281) (Oxford 2004), especially 58–64.
Theodoret., Hist. Rel. 4, 1 and 13 (trl. R.M. Price).
Millar 1993, op. cit. (n. 20), 255f.
On the struggle with demons as an archetypal moment in the life of ascetics, see D. Brakke, Demons and the Making of the Monk. Spiritual Combat in Early Christianity (Cambridge 2006), 3–22. M. Hoskin, ‘The Close Proximity of Christ to Sixth-Century Mesopotamian Monks in John of Ephesus’ Lives of Eastern Saints’, Journal of Ecclesiastical History 69 (2018), 262–277: 272 highlights the special role of ascetics in taking possession of mountain shrines.
Here and in the following paragraph I consider primarily the architectural survey and interpretation of Freyberger 2011, op. cit. (n. 19), 181.
See pp. 284–285.
J.-P. Sodini and J.-L. Biscop, ‘Qalʾat Simʿān et Deir Semʿan: naissance et développement d’un lieu de pèlerinage durant l’Antiquité Tardive’, in: J.-P. Spieser, ed., Architecture paléochrétienne (Paris 2011), 11–59. On Symeon and the archaeology of Qalʾat Simʿān, see most recently, with rich bibliography, Leeming and Tchalenko 2019, op. cit. (n. 18).
On the tradition cf. H. Lietzmann and H. Hilgenfeld, Das Leben des Heiligen Symeon Stylites (Berlin 1908), 197–228; R. Doran (trl.), The Lives of Simeon Stylites (Cistercian Studies 112) (Kalamazoo, MI 1992). On religiosity and popular piety around Symeon cf. S. Ashbrook Harvey, ‘The Sense of a Stylite. Perspectives on Simeon the Elder’, Vigiliae Christianae 42 (1988), 376–394. Fundamental to the phenomenon of the Holy Men remains P. Brown, ‘The Rise and Function of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity’, Journal of Roman Studies 61 (1971), 80–100 with idem, ‘Arbiters of the Holy: the Christian Holy Man in Late Antiquity’, in idem, Authority and the Sacred. Aspects of the Christianisation of the Roman World (Cambridge 1995), 55–78; idem, ‘The Rise and Function of the Holy Man in Late Antiquity 1971–1997’, Journal of Early Christian Studies 6:3 (1998), 353–376.
H.C. Butler, Syria: Publications of the Princeton University Archaeological Expeditions to Syria in 1904–1905 and 1909, Division II: Architecture, Section B: Northern Syria (Leiden 1920), 281–294; D. Krencker, Die Wallfahrtskirche des Simeon Stylites in Kalʾat Simʾân (Berlin 1939); Tchalenko 1953, op. cit. (n. 9), 205–276.
Callot and Marcillet-Jaubert 1984, op. cit. (n. 18), 192–195 and O. Callot and P.-L. Gatier, ‘Étude du sanctuaire du Djebel Srir’, Chronique archéologique en Syrie 1 (1997), 153–155. Compare also Millar 1993, op. cit. (n. 20), 253f. and Freyberger 2011, op. cit. (n. 19), 181f.
Tchalenko 1953, op. cit. (n. 9), 171–172. 278–279; J. Lassus, Sanctuaires chrétiens de Syrie: essai sur la genèse, la forme et l’usage liturgique des édifices du culte chrétien, en Syrie, du III. siècle à la conquête mussulmane (Bibliothèque archéologique et historique, Institut français de Beyrouth 42), Paris 1947, 277–279.
For the findings see Butler 1920 (op. cit. n. 31), 318–320; Callot and Marcillet-Jaubert 1984, op. cit. (n. 18), 198–202; P.-L. Gatier, ‘Villages et sanctuaires en Antiochène autour de Qalaat Kalota’, Topoi 7 (1997), 751–775; Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21), 743f. and Freyberger 2011, op. cit. (n. 19), 184–186, on whose summary analysis I base myself here above all.
Perhaps the most striking example of this practice is found on the southern frontier of the Empire, where the important temple of Isis on the Nile island of Philae, active until Justinian times, was desacralised under Bishop Theodoros and, to this end, elaborately ornamented crosses were placed in plain view at various key points in the ancient Egyptian structure, in one case with the explanatory inscription “The cross has triumphed. It will always be victorious!”. See the findings of P. Nautin, ‘La conversion du temple de Philae en église chrétienne’, Cahiers archéologiques 17 (1967), 1–43 and J. Hahn, ‘Die Zerstörung der Kulte von Philae. Geschichte und Legende am ersten Nilkatarakt’, in: J. Hahn, S. Emmel and U. Gotter, eds., From Temple to Church. Destruction and Renewal of Local Cultic Topography in Late Antiquity (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 163) (Leiden/Boston 2008), 203–242, in particular 213–215.
Butler 1920, op. cit. (n. 31), 319.
Callot and Marcillet-Jaubert 1984, op. cit. (n. 18), 195–198; Callot 1997, op. cit. (n. 21); Freyberger 2011, op. cit. (n. 19), 183.
Djobadze 1986, op. cit. (n. 17), 57ff. contains a concise and reliable historical and archaeological overview with documentation of the architectural features of the monastery complex including the stylite column. More recently, A. Belgin-Henry, The Pilgrimage Centre of St. Symeon the Younger: Designed by Angels, Supervised by a Saint, Constructed by Pilgrims, PhD dissertation, University of Illinois 2015, has presented a detailed discussion of the archaeological evidence on the shrine. An excellent historical analysis of the hagiographical tradition is provided by F. Millar, ‘The Image of a Christian Monk in Northern Syria: Symeon Stylites the Younger’, in: C. Harrison et al., eds., Being Christian in Late Antiquity. A Festschrift for Gillian Clark (Oxford 2014), 278–295. A compilation of dedicatory inscriptions and pilgrim tokens (eulogiai) has been published by Paweł Nowakowski in the Oxford project The Cult of Saints in Late Antiquity: http://csla.history.ox.ac.uk/record.php?recid=E01648. See now also L. Parker, Symeon Stylites the Younger and Late Antique Antioch. From Hagiography to History, (Oxford 2022), in particular 113–125.
Parker 2022, op. cit. (n. 38), 55–112.
L.A. Schachner, ‘The Archaeology of the Stylite’, in: D.M. Gwynn and S. Bangert, eds., Religious Diversity in Late Antiquity (Late Antique Archaeology 6) (Leiden 2010), 329–400: 366–375, who examines in detail the spatial-geographical dimension of stylitism in the northern Syrian region. See also J.-P. Sodini, ‘Les stylites syriens (ve–vie siècles) entre cultes locaux et pèlerinages « internationaux »’, in A. Vauchez, ed., Le Pélerinage de l’Antiquité à nos jours. Actes du 130e Congrés National des Sociétés Historiques et Scientifiques, La Rochelle 2005 (Paris 2012), 5–23; Sodini and Biscop 2011, op. cit. (n. 29), 11–59.
Sodini 2012, op. cit. (n. 40), 5–23.
E. Soler, ‘La figure de Syméon Stylite l’Ancien et les controverses christologiques des Ve–VIe siècles en Orient’, in: S. Crogiez-Pétrequin, ed., Dieu(x) et Hommes. Histoire et iconographie des sociétés païennes et chrétiennes de l’Antiquité à nos jours. Mélanges en l’honneur de Françoise Thelamon (Rouen 2005), 187–210; H.C. Brennecke, ‘Wie man einen Heiligen politisch instrumentalisiert. Der Heilige Simeon Stylites und die Synode von Chalkedon’, in H.C. Brennecke, U. Heil, A. Stockhausen and J. Ulrich, eds., Ecclesia est in re publica. Studien zur Kirchen- und Theologiegeschichte im Kontext des Imperium Romanum (Arbeiten zur Kirchengeschichte 100) (Berlin 2008), 291–335.
Gen. 28, 10–22.
P. Bedjan, ed., Homiliae selectae Mar-Jacobi Sarugensis III (Leipzig 1910), Nr. 101, 795 sqq., quoted in S.P. Landersdorfer, ‘Gedicht über den Fall der Götterbilder’ (Bibliothek der Kirchenväter 2. Reihe, Band 6: Ausgewählte Schriften der syrischen Dichter Cyrillonas, Baläus, Isaak von Antiochien und Jakob von Sarug) (Kempten/München 1913), 419 (171) (trl. by the author). Jacob of Sarug, incidentally, also wrote a sermon on Symeon Stylites; on this S.A. Harvey, ‘Jacob of Serug. Homily on Simeon the Stylite’, in: V.L. Wimbush, ed., Ascetic Behavior in GrecoRoman Antiquity: A Sourcebook (Minneapolis 1990), 15–28. For the writings, work and Christology of Jacob of Sarug cf. comprehensively P.M. Forness, Preaching Christology in the Roman Near East. A Study of Jacob of Serugh (Oxford Early Christian Studies) (Oxford 2018).