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Gods Set in Stone: Theoi Headings on Greek Inscriptions

Rebecca Van Hove
p. 61-112

Résumés

Les en-têtes sous forme theoi (« dieux ») apparaissent régulièrement dans les inscriptions du monde grec antique. Même s’il a été observé de longue date, ce type d’en-tête a été longtemps peu considéré, en tant que formule sans grande portée ni signification réelle. Le présent article entend prendre au sérieux cette référence au divin, en analysant la fonction et le sens de l’en-tête à la période classique. Il s’appuie sur deux cas d’étude, les inscriptions se référant au financement des constructions de l’Acropole d’Athènes et le corpus épigraphique d’Oropos, afin de mettre en évidence les caractéristiques les plus saillantes de la formule. En plaçant les en-têtes theoi dans le contexte plus large des autres types de formules relatives au divin que l’on trouve dans des inscriptions, il s’agit de comprendre les termes theoi ou theos non pas comme une prière ou un appel aux dieux, mais comme l’affirmation de la présence divine et une reconnaissance de sa puissance.

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I would like to thank Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge, Paul Michael Kurtz and the anonymous reviewers of Kernos for providing valuable advice and constructive feedback on this article. Earlier versions of this paper were presented at the Collège de France in Prof. Pirenne-Delforge’s seminar, at the Classics departmental seminar in St Andrews and at the CRASIS seminar of the University of Groningen: I am grateful to all three audiences for stimulating discussions and helpful suggestions, in particular from Thomas Harrison. This research was funded by a Leverhulme Trust Study Abroad Fellowship, held at the University of Liège and the Collège de France. Vasileios Petrakos, the Archaeological Society at Athens, the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica, the Ephorate of Antiquities of Athens, the Epigraphical Museum, the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, the Sara B. Aleshire Center for the Study of Greek Epigraphy, and the Department of Classical, Near Eastern and Religious Studies at the University of British Columbia kindly granted permission to use the images of inscriptions which appear in the article, for which I am grateful. I would also like to thank Emmy Mestropian-Makri, Secretary of the Netherlands Institute in Athens, for assisting me greatly in seeking out various permissions.

Introduction

  • 1 RotroffOakley (1992); Talcott (1936). Cf. Steiner (2002).
  • 2 e.g., Agora P 30076, Agora P 5160.
  • 3 On kalos inscriptions on Athenian pottery see Lissarrague (1999).
  • 4 Agora P 5164. The inscription is C21 in Agora XXI = Lang (1976).
  • 5 θεοί θερικλες
    καλός
    θεοί Πύχσονος
    Τιμόχσενος
    καλός
    Χαρμίδες
    καλός
    Cf. 
    Talcott (1936), p. 350; Lang ( (...)

1In two large deposits of debris at the Athenian Agora, several graffiti preserved on pottery fragments have been excavated which originally came from a public dining facility located in the northwest corner of the Agora.1 The graffiti found on these sherds name individuals, often praising or insulting them with appellations of ‘beautiful’ (καλός) or ‘lewd’ (καταπύγον).2 Such kalos inscriptions, as they are usually called, are regularly found in private dining contexts too, where they have been understood as part of the flirtatious fun-making culture of the symposion.3 The material from the Agora’s public dining facility includes one particularly peculiar graffito, inscribed on the bottom of a coarse-ware lekane vessel and dated to the second quarter of the fifth century BCE.4 This graffito frames the names and kalos designations it records in an unusual way: it consists of a grid pattern, with θεοί, ‘gods’, twice inscribed on the left-hand side, on the first two lines, and the rest of the inscription written in the grid in a stoichedon pattern: “Therikles, son of P[…] kalos. Timoxenos kalos. Charmides kalos” (Fig. 1.1 and 1.2).5

Fig. 1.1. Agora P 5164.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Athens City, Ancient Agora, ASCSA: Agora Excavations. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 1.2. Drawing of Agora P 5164.

Courtesy of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens: Agora Excavations.

  • 6 Steiner (2002), p. 364.
  • 7 Steiner (2002), p. 365, referencing EM 12946, which preserves the guidelines used to create the s (...)
  • 8 Immerwahr (1990), p. 105 n. 36.
  • 9 Steiner (2002), p. 364–365, recognises that this parody with theoi heading is dated earlier than (...)

2In a recent study, Ann Steiner has argued that this graffito and others found with it appear to parody the practice of ostracism: they make fun of the democratic institution designed to curb elite powers and “the larger culture of fame of which it was a part”.6 The graffito with the θεοί inscription takes this imitation of public texts a step further: the incised grid pattern of the graffito, as Steiner convincingly demonstrates, is very similar to the grids used on stone stelae to guide the inscription of stoichedon texts.7 Stoichedon writing is rarely found on pots but it is much more common on stone inscriptions. Additionally, the graffito includes the term θεοί, ‘gods’.8 Such an invocation of the divine rarely appears on pottery but is found extremely regularly as a heading on different types of public inscriptions throughout the Greek world. This graffito, then, appears to be a parody of an inscription. Its θεοί heading and stoichedon pattern act as identifiers of a particular genre of public inscribed document: the decrees, laws, financial accounts and other public regulations which were set up throughout the landscape of the city of Athens, on the Akropolis, and in the Agora. As such, this graffito suggests that the term θεοί—even as early as the first half of the fifth century BCE—carried with it certain connotations and was understood as a recognisable element of the monumental, official texts which were inscribed on stone.9

3The earliest occurrences of θεοί as a heading are found in Crete from 650 BCE and the formula starts to appear elsewhere, including in Athens, from the second half of the fifth century onwards. By the Hellenistic period θεοί is a pervasive presence on all kinds of inscribed documents, in particular laws and decrees. In many Greek poleis, the invocation occurs frequently in the singular too, as θεός. Notable is that these plain yet mysterious inclusions of the divine appear haphazardly: they are extremely common, yet not invariably or regularly so. What does θεοί really mean? Which gods exactly are being referenced here and what is the function of this invocation? What exact role are these ‘gods’ here assigned? How does the heading relate to the inscribed text which follows?

  • 10 Consecration formula: e.g. Larfeld (1898), p. 591. Appeal to divine favour: e.g. Harris (2004), p (...)
  • 11 Traywick (1968); Pounder (1975); Mack (2018).
  • 12 There are some non-Athenian document reliefs (see e.g. Delphi Museum inv. 12675) but these are ex (...)

4Long noted, the θεοί heading has also long been passed over, receiving very little systematic investigation. Most scholars appear to assume it does not require much analysis and they swiftly set it aside, usually assigning one of three interpretations to the heading, with little discussion: it is seen either as a consecration formula which sacralises the inscription; as an echo of the prayer with which the Assembly opened proceedings; or more generally as an appeal to divine favour or protection.10 We will come back to these different interpretations. The only substantial studies of the phenomenon are two unpublished theses from the 1960s and 1970s, by Paul Traywick and Robert Pounder respectively, and a much more recent article by William Mack.11 Traywick focused on Athens, and in particular Attic decrees, while Pounder examined the evidence for the θεοί heading from Delos. Mack’s 2018 study again concentrates on decrees from Athens. His reading of the θεοί headings is largely built around an analysis of the pictorial document reliefs which sometimes accompany these decrees, a very Athenian phenomenon. We are therefore still lacking a broader, more systematic, and geographically diverse analysis of θεοί/ θεός headings across the Greek world.12

  • 13 BelaycheProst (2005), p. 18.
  • 14 Going back to Usener’s 1896 Götternamen, interest in the naming of Greek deities as a way of acce (...)
  • 15 Divine naming practices are important not only in direct addresses to gods (‘address meaning’), b (...)
  • 16 See e.g. Jim (2015); Parker (2017); Bonnet et al. (2019).

5This article takes some first steps towards a comprehensive analysis of the θεοί/ θεός headings. It builds on Mack’s work in taking θεοί seriously as an object of analysis but focuses in particular on two crucial elements which have not received the attention they deserve and which can help us take the study of divine headings further: the regular occurrence of the singular θεός heading outside of Athens, and these headings’ non-specificity. Both of these elements encourage us to contextualise θεοί and θεός in the larger landscape of epigraphic divine formula, that is, references to gods in inscriptions. It is precisely the fact that both θεοί and θεός are generic terms for the divine that sets them apart—from the Athenian document reliefs, for example, but also from other epigraphic divine references, such as dedicatory formulae and invocations. θεός and θεοί mostly refer to an unspecified deity or deities. This contrasts with the general importance awarded in the ancient Greek polytheistic system to the naming of deities as a crucial component of communication with the divine. The name of a god or goddess contributed to the very construction of that deity itself, providing him or her with both form and force.13 Whether making use of a prayer, hymn, or votive offering, the ancient Greeks placed significant importance on the names—personal, epithet, or both—with which they addressed their gods.14 Although this naming system was very fluid, it was considered a way of making clear which deity, and which aspect of a particular deity, was being addressed, as well as a way of pleasing the gods: naming a divine power by its correct name was essential in order to gain access to that specific divine power.15 As such, specificity is crucial—explaining also why θεοί has for a long time not been taken seriously as a reference to or mode of communication with the divine. However, recent work on divine names in ancient Mediterranean societies has demonstrated the complexity of ancient naming practices.16 This provides an impetus for rethinking why, as epigraphic practices develop throughout the fifth and fourth centuries and beyond, the Greeks adopt the habit of including a reference to the divine at the beginning of their inscribed documents in the unspecific, generic form of θεοί or θεός.

6The purpose of this article is to explore some of the consequences of taking θεοί seriously as a reference to the divine and, in particular, to analyse how we should interpret the heading. To do so, it commences with a short overview of the chronological and geographical scope of the θεοί/θεός phenomenon in the Greek world, before presenting two case studies which each highlight different aspects of the heading. The first examines the financial accounts of the Akropolis building programme from the early fifth century BCE. We find here one of the earliest occurrences of θεοί as a heading in Athens, as well as interesting invocations to the goddess Athena and τύχῃ, ‘fate’ or ‘fortune’. The second case study looks at the epigraphic corpus of Oropos, the territory between Boiotia and Attica. This small but varied epigraphic body offers an overview of the variety commonly found in terms of the heading’s presentation and format. It also raises the question of θεοί’s relationship to another common divine formula, ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ (‘with good fortune’). The remainder of the article will then focus on the question of what θεοί as heading means. It will examine four different interpretations which have been proposed for θεοί and argue that some of these are better applied to other epigraphic divine formula. By placing the heading in a broader context of divine epigraphic phrases and paying particular attention to θεοί’s unspecificity, it will thus argue that θεοί/θεός should not be understood as a dedication or appeal to the divine, but rather as a recognition of divine agency and power, bringing the authority of the gods into the decision-making processes which the Greeks immortalised on stone.

  • 17 e.g. Haas (1996); Meier – Ott – Sauer (2015).
  • 18 Petrovic (2018). On the materiality of epigraphic sources, see also Lissarrague (1992); Graham (2 (...)
  • 19 Ma (2013), p. 40–42; Williamson (1995).
  • 20 Hölkeskamp (1994); Osborne (1999), p. 346–348; Meyer (2013), p. 458–463. On the Athenian acropoli (...)
  • 21 Appeal to divine protection: Osborne (1999), p. 347–348. Religious aura: Liddel (2003), p. 81. Re (...)
  • 22 Lambert (2018), p. 22–23. See also Meyer (2013), p. 459–461, on the interpretation of inscription (...)

7Throughout its analysis, this article examines θεοί headings in their context, building also on current research into the materiality of inscriptional writing. There has lately been a renewed emphasis on recognising written texts as physical objects whose presence as inscribed artefacts is crucially intertwined with the meaning of the texts themselves.17 Andrej Petrovic, for example, has recently brought attention to the gulf between the way viewers in antiquity would experience inscriptions, as visual monuments, and modern scholars’ own experience of these texts, most often as disembodied text on paper or screen.18 That the lay-out of inscriptions can be employed to highlight matters considered particularly important has been shown by Ma for Hellenistic honorific inscriptions, and by Williamson for prescripts of legal inscriptions in Rome.19 While focus on the place where inscriptions were set up has drawn attention to the religious nature of many of these locations.20 Beyond the fact that specific sanctuaries often were relevant to the substantive content of a document, and the conspicuousness of sanctuaries in general as commonly visited and well-known spaces, this practice, scholars have argued, should also be understood as an appeal for divine protection of these texts, as a conferral to them of “a religious aura”, and as “drawing these monuments into a relationship with the gods”.21 As objects adorned with careful lettering, religious iconography and pediments recalling religious architecture, stelae were set up for both a human and divine audience, to be read and seen by fellow citizens and to be pleasing to the gods.22 Building on this work, I attempt in this article to examine θεοί/θεός headings in relation both to the stelae which they are inscribed on and the texts they form a part of. In what ways are issues such as the monumentality, legibility, and locality of inscriptions important for our understanding of this heading?

Counting theoi

  • 23 Asia Minor, Cyprus and the Italian West excluded. Numbers based on the dated inscriptions include (...)
  • 24 To give an indication of how common the theos/theoi heading becomes in the Hellenistic period, fo (...)
  • 25 For the number from Athens, see Mack (2018), p. 379. The numbers for Central Greece, beside Delph (...)
  • 26 e.g. Kirchner’s IG II2.
  • 27 Pounder (1975), p. 147–148, calculated that about 18 % of decrees from Delos (5th–2nd century BCE (...)

8The term theoi or theos occurs most often as the first word on an inscription. At times it is found on the decorative moulding at the top of stelae, at other times it occurs on the main inscribed surface of the stele, where it appears to be part of the heading. I will come back to how it differs from other elements often found as heading on legal inscriptions such as decrees. θεοί, or θεός, is pervasive though—crucially, as I will come back to—not exhaustively so. In total, if we look at the ancient Greek mainland and islands (including Crete), we find 102 θεός headings and 279 θεοί headings on inscriptions dating to the end of the fourth century BCE.23 The vast majority are found in Athens (174 occurrences of θεοί), followed by Delphi (32 θεοί, 39 θεός)24, with Central Greece accounting for a further 15 θεοί and 12 θεός.25 In the Peloponnese, we find the largest number in Arcadia (9 θεός), as well as a handful in Corinth (2 θεοί), Epidauros (3 θεός), Laconia (1 θεός), Elis (3 θεός, 1 θεοί) and Achaia (1 θεός). In Northern Greece, we find 5 θεός headings in Epeiros and in Macedonia 23 occurrences of θεός and 1 θεοί. For the Aegean islands, Delos leads the count with 13 θεοί headings, followed by 9 for Amorgos (θεοί), 6 for Keos (θεοί), 6 for Eretria (θεοί), 4 for Samos (1 θεός, 3 θεοί), and 1 each for Rhodes (θεοί), Kimolos (θεός), Calymna (θεός), Paros (θεοί). Crete has 15 θιοί and 1 θιός headings. These statistics, of course, need to be approached with some caution: theoi headings have historically often gone unremarked, with some early editors leaving them out of their epigraphic collections.26 Analysing the frequency of theoi headings is also complicated by the fact that many surviving stelae are fragmentary and do not always have intact top parts. We thus need to compare the number of headings with the number of stelae for which the top part is preserved, but even this indication of rate of occurrence is dependent on the accident of epigraphic survival.27 Nonetheless, the numbers above give an estimation of the heading’s presence, spread and frequency.

Akropolis building accounts

  • 28 Other early cases: IG I3 54 (from 433/2 BCE); IG I3 50 (= Agora 16.9) from ca. 435 BCe; IG I3 34 (...)
  • 29 The fragments of the accounts of the Athena Parthenos statues of which the findspot is known come (...)
  • 30 On the Pheidias statue, see Lapatin (2001), p. 63–79. On the Periklean building programme in its (...)

9One of the earliest occurrences of the theoi heading in Athens is found on a stone which records building accounts for Pheidias’ chryselephantine statue of Athena, the cult image of the Parthenon temple.28 The statue was built as part of the Periklean building programme in the second half of the fifth century BCE, when a range of new sacred buildings were constructed on the Akropolis following the Persian destruction of the site in 480. Annually elected committees of overseers, epistatai, were responsible for supervising these building works and distributing its funds and payments. At the end of their yearly tenures, these committees inscribed their financial accounts on stone stelae and set these up, we presume, on the Acropolis itself.29 Alongside the accounts for the chryselephantine statue (IG I3 453–460), we have accounts for the Parthenon itself (IG I3 436–451), the Athena Promachos statue (IG I3 435), the Propylaia gate (IG I3 462–466), the Erechtheion (IG I3 474–479) and the Hephaisteion on the Agora (IG I3 472).30 The early theoi heading is found on IG I3 459, a first attempt to record the accounts of Pheidias’ Athena statue, dated to 445–438 BCE (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2. Squeeze of EM 6765.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Athens City and the Epigraphical Museum Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.). Photograph courtesy of The University of British Columbia.

θεοί ⋮ Ἀθενᾶ ⋮ Τύχε·
Κιχέσιππος ⋮ ἐγραμμά-
τευε ⋮ ἀγάλματος ⋮ ἐπι-
στάτεσι ⋮ Μυρρινόσιος
5 λε͂μμα ⋮ παρὰ  vacat
vacat

Gods. Athena. Tuche
Kichesippos of Myrrhinous
was secretary
to the overseers of the statue.
Receipt from …

  • 31 Cf. Osborne – Rhodes (2017), p. 206. Another possible reason for rejection is that the first atte (...)

10Besides its early date, this heading is interesting for a number of reasons: first, it is a rare instance of the θεοί heading being accompanied by an invocation to a particular deity, in this case Athena, along with a reference to tyche, ‘fate’ or ‘fortune’. Second, the heading was eventually rejected: the stone cutter abandoned the inscription at line 5 and recommenced on another stone (IG I3 458). The new version includes spaces on the left hand side of the stone for a column of figures: perhaps the stonecutter abandoned his first attempt in IG I3 459 because he realised he had not left enough space on the stone for all these figures.31 What is curious is that in the new version, IG I3 458, the first line of the prescript is left out: the invocation θεοί, Ἀθενᾶ, Τύχε does not make the final cut. We thus first find the inclusion of a heading which is extremely rare for the time, and which not only invokes the generic ‘gods’, but also Athena, the subject of the statue with which the inscription is concerned, and tyche, fortune. However, in the second attempt to inscribe this information, the invocations are then left out.

  • 32 IG I3 456 has only an omicron preserved: Lewis restores it as θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε, but only the θεοί (...)
  • 33 IG I3 472 from the Hephaisteion gives accounts for the statues of Athena and Hephaistos (ca. 421– (...)
  • 34 Dated to ca. 437–433 BCE. IG I3 462, also part of the Propylaia accounts, has been restored in th (...)

11Why might a reference to the divine in this form be initially inscribed here? If we examine the whole corpus of building accounts, we find five divine headings, three of which occur in the accounts for the chryselephantine statue: θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε in IG I3 459 and twice simply θεοί (IG I3 456 and 457).32 The two other headings occur one each in the Hephaisteion accounts (IG I3 472: also θεοί) and Propylaia records (IG I3 465).33 The latter is fragmentary but references at least Athena: it reads [- -]θεναία [- -], which has been restored as [θεοί ]θεναία [ Τύχε].34 Athena is included in two out of five of these headings, which can of course be linked to the content of these inscriptions: she is the subject of the statue which IG I3 459 is concerned with, and as patron deity linked to the city of Athens, and the sanctuary of the Akropolis in particular, her inclusion in the Propylaia accounts also is not surprising. However, references to individual deities in the nominative as a heading of an inscription are rare, especially written together with θεοί. The inclusion of τύχε in a heading is more common, occurring especially in the dative as part of the phrase τύχῃ ἀγαθῇ, ‘with’ or ‘for good fortune’. I will come back to this to examine the phrase’s relationship to θεοί and discuss how τύχε should be understood.

  • 35 Shear (2016), p. 72.
  • 36 Osborne – Rhodes (2017), p. 206–7; Meyer (2017), p. 228, who suggests the fine preservation of th (...)
  • 37 Shear (2016), p. 72.

12That three out of five of the divine headings in this corpus are found in the accounts for Pheidias’ Parthenon statue is noteworthy, especially if we consider the peculiarities of these accounts. Theodore Shear has shown how they differ from the other contemporary accounts of the Periklean building works, such as the accounts for the Parthenon, Propylaia and Erechtheion, which appear much more like “genuine examples of official bookkeeping”.35 In contrast, the accounts for Pheidias’ chryselephantine statue are much less detailed. Their appearance differs too: one stele (IG I3 460), which appears to be a summary of the works carried out and the total sums of expenditure on the statue, can be considered one of the most beautiful inscriptions of the fifth century, with large, careful lettering and a polished background (Fig. 3).36 As Shear puts it, “the documents published by the overseers of the golden statue seem more like statements for display, as if their purpose was to memorialise the funds spent by the sacred treasury on precious materials in a given year.”37 We do not know where exactly on the Akropolis these financial documents were set up, but the care taken in the inscription process, which is visible both in the appearance of IG I3 460 and also in the careful and conscious re-inscription of IG I3 458 / IG I3 459, demonstrates the importance of their visuality and display. It is interesting that we find these early and unusual Athenian theoi heading in a context where particularly careful attention is paid to the process of inscribing. These inscribed objects were monuments in and of themselves to the financial effort involved in setting up the monument of Athena’s statue.

Fig. 3 EM 6769.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Athens City and the Epigraphical Museum Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.). Photograph courtesy of the Sara B. Aleshire Center for the Study of Greek Epigraphy.

  • 38 Austin (1938), p. 62, does not think the heading, even if a mistake, would warrant starting fresh (...)

13Of course, the formula θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε in the Pheidias statue accounts was eventually rejected, left off in the final version of the financial document. How can we interpret this deletion? Does it perhaps illustrate the heading was a mistake?38 Or does it show the novelty of the practice, and its potential contentiousness? The other divine headings on the building accounts record only theoi, apart from the [- -]θεναία [- -] in the Propylaia account (IG I3 465). Perhaps the combination theoi – Athena – tyche was more problematic? Or is this simply already an early indication of the discretionary nature of the θεοί heading, its optional character? In any case, the formulation θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε testifies to the complexity of interpreting divine headings: what does it mean to include a reference to the collective gods alongside the name of an individual deity? And how should we understand the inclusion of tyche, an entity which can refer to a specific deity, as well as to a more abstract concept, or be part of a stock phrase?

Divine headings in Oropos

  • 39 On incubation at Oropos and the Amphiareion in general, see Renberg (2016), p. 272–294; von Ehren (...)
  • 40 On sanctuaries as sites of display for inscriptions, see below.
  • 41 Oropos was first settled by Eretria in Euboea, before swinging between Theban and Athenian contro (...)
  • 42 Of the six pre-300 BCe decrees without the heading, four have the top part preserved (I.Oropos 29 (...)

14From an early and unusual example of theoi, we move now to a case study which represents the heading’s more regular appearance and its development to a standardised phenomenon. The epigraphic corpus of Oropos, the territory between Boiotia and Attica, is small but varied and offers a useful overview of the regular variety we find of the theoi heading’s presentation and format, allowing us to build a picture of the characteristics of divine formula that we find across the wider Greek epigraphic corpus. The sanctuary of Amphiaraos at Oropos was an important incubation site where visitors came to seek healing for their ailments, as well as answers to their questions, by spending a night in the god’s temple.39 Like many sanctuaries, the Amphiareion was also used as a place of display for inscribed texts.40 Inscriptions found at the site include regulations concerning the working of the sanctuary, as well as honorific and regulatory decrees, some awarded by Oropos, others by the Athenian Assembly, especially after the Athenians regained control of the town, probably in 335 BCE.41 Vasileios Petrakos’ publication of the inscriptions of Oropos lists 97 inscribed texts from the fifth and fourth centuries, which is the period this article will focus on. Most of these inscriptions are dedications and funerary epitaphs but there are 19 decrees, as well as a handful of sanctuary regulations and building inscriptions. The theoi heading is found on at least 13 of the 19 decrees, as well as on one sanctuary regulation (I.Oropos 277).42

  • 43 Knoepfler (2001), p. 368–391. On the proxenia institution at Oropos, see Wilding (2015).
  • 44 I.Oropos 6 is missing its top thus the presence of a heading is not certain, although based on it (...)
  • 45 I.Oropos 5: no photograph found.

15Even within this small sample, we see noticeable variety in the format and presentation of the theoi heading. As noted in the table below, the first 6 theoi headings are found on proxeny decrees from the second half of the fourth century. I.Oropos 1 (Fig. 4) only has a lower part of a sigma preserved of the heading, which implies a singular θεός, and this seems corroborated if we compare it to I.Oropos 2 (Fig. 5), where the full heading θεός is legible: it appears on the left-hand side, on its own line, with the letters slightly more spaced out than the stoichedon text underneath it. Both inscriptions record proxeny decrees for Macedonians: the first one to Amyntas, son of Perdikkas, king of Macedonia; the second one to another Amyntas, son of Antiochos. The honours were proposed by the same person and appear to have been awarded at the same time: they have been persuasively dated by Knoepfler to 338–335 BCE.43 I.Oropos 3 has a similar date and is also a decree awarding honours to a foreigner, a Mykythion of Syangela. The heading also appears on its own line, but here we find θεοί in the plural (Fig. 6). I.Oropos 4–6 are again proxeny decrees, dated to 312–304 BCE, slightly later than the first three. On two of these at least (I.Oropos 4 and 5) we have an invocation: θεοί· τύχηι ἀγαθῆι·.44 The text is presented very differently here, as I.Oropos 4 (Fig. 7) shows: not on its own line, and fitting in the stoichedon pattern of the ensuing decree, the heading does not stand out in the same way as is the case with I.Oropos 1–3.45 The last of the fourth-century proxeny decrees, I.Oropos 7, is only preserved in fragments, with only an epsilon preserved of a heading: we can assume this was part of θεός or θεοί, and it appears the letters of the heading were spaced out (Fig. 8).

Fig. 4. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 5. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig.  6. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 7. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 8. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

16I.Oropos 277 (= CGRN 75), on the other hand, is the only instance of a theoi heading in Oropos on a type of text other than a decree: it sets out duties of the priest of Amphiaraos and rules for visiting the sanctuary. It is one of the few epigraphic texts from Oropos which date to the short period of Oropos’ independence from Athens and Thebes, between 386 and ca. 374 BCE. The issuing authority of the document is unclear, and it is perhaps possible that the text is excerpted from a law or other document issued by the Oropians.46 θεοί is here presented again on its own line: although written at the left-hand side of the line, the letters are more spaced out from each other than the stoichedon pattern used for the rest of the inscription (Fig. 9). The next two decrees, from the 330s–320s, also both with the plural θεοί, deal with renovations of the Amphiareion: on I.Oropos 292 (Fig. 10) the invocation of the divine is inscribed on the moulding at the top of the stele, spread out across its full length in larger letters. This is the same for another of the remaining inscriptions in the list, where we find θεοί spread out across the top of the stele (I.Oropos 295, Fig. 12). I.Oropos 293 (Fig. 11) is rather damaged but it appears to include θεοί as heading, written on the left-hand side, on its own line.

Fig. 9. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 10. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 11. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 12. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

  • 47 On this very unusual decree, see Scafuro (2009).
  • 48 Petrakos (1997), p. 292 suggests the heading was spread out across the length of the stone.

17The last Oropian fourth-century inscriptions which display the heading also do so on the left-hand side, on a separate line: this includes two regular honorific decrees (I.Oropos 297, Fig. 14 and I.Oropos, 298, Fig. 15) and one which stands out for being the only honorific decree we have from the classical period in which a deity is awarded a crown: here Amphiaraos is honoured by the Athenians, in 332/1 BCE (I.Oropos 296, Fig. 13).47 The final theoi heading from the fourth century is found on I.Oropos 369, an honorific decree for Philostratos of Athens, dated to 304–295 BCE. Unfortunately it has not been possible to find a photograph of this inscription and thus little can be said about the layout of its θεοί heading.48

Fig. 13. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 14. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Fig. 15. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

18One final inscription is worth mentioning: one of the fourth-century decrees without theoi heading does have a different kind of divine invocation. I.Oropos 290 is a decree of the Athenian council concerning the restoration of the fountain and baths of the sanctuary, from 369/8 BCE. Spaced out across the whole length of the stele at the top are the words ἱερὰ Ἀμφιαράο, which can be translated as ‘sacred things, or thing, of Amphiaraos’ (Fig. 16). If we take ἱερὰ as referring to the stele, we find here a consecration of the stone object and its inscribed text to a god—a specific god—, a formula which is extremely common on dedications but rarely found on decrees. We will come back to this question of consecration and the meaning of this heading below.

Fig.  16. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.

Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of East Attica and the Archaeological Society of Athens. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).

Table 1: Divine headings from Oropos (up to 300 BCE)

I.Oropos

Heading

Date

Type of inscr.

Topic of inscription

1

[ΘΕΟ]Σ

338–335

Decree, Proxeny

Proxeny for Amyntas, son of Perdikkas, king of Macedonia

2

ΘΕΟΣ

338–335

Decree, Proxeny

Proxeny for Amyntas, son of Antiochos, of Macedonia

3

ΘΕΟΙ

338–335

Decree, Proxeny

Honorific decree for Mykythion of Syangela

4

ΘΕΟΙ

ΤΥΧΗΙ ΑΓΑΘΗΙ

312–304

Decree, Proxeny

Proxeny for Aisymnos of Macedonia

5

(no photo)

ΘΕΟΙ ΤΥΧΗΙ ΑΓΑΘΗΙ

312–304

Decree, Proxeny

Proxeny for Alkanor of Macedonia

7

[Θ]Ε[ΟΙ]

322–313

Decree, Proxeny

Proxeny for Mantidotos

277

ΘΕΟΙ

387–377

Regulation

Duties of priest of sanctuary

292

ΘΕΟΙ

335–322

Decree

Construction of a drain for men’s bath in Amphiaraos’ sanctuary

293

ΘΕΟΙ

335–322

Decree

Building operations in sanctuary of Amphiaraos

295

ΘΕΟΙ

333–332

Decree, honorific

Honorific decree for Pytheas, son of Sosidemos, for work on water supply

296

ΘΕΟΙ

332–331

Decree, honorific

Honorific decree of Athens for Amphiaraos

297

ΘΕΟΙ

332–331

Decree, honorific

Honorific decree of Athens for Phanodemos

298

ΘΕΟΙ

329–328

Decree, honorific

Honorific decree for epimeletai of Amphiareion

369

(no photo)

ΘΕΟ[Ι]

304–295

Decree, honorific

Honorific decree for Philostratos of Athens

290

ΙΕΡΑ ΑΜΦΙΑΡΑΟ

369/8

Decree and contract

Decree of Athens concerning restoration works at the Amphiareion

19This quick overview of divine headings found at Oropos illuminates the diversity of the ways in which the divine can be invoked on public inscriptions. A few important characteristics of the theoi heading can be extrapolated from this, before I will focus in the next section on the question of what the heading means.

  • 49 I.Oropos 7 possibly also fits into this category.
  • 50 Mylonopoulos (2018); Frese – Keil – Krüger (2019).
  • 51 e.g. IG I3 61 (subject of decree and name of secretary), IG II2 20 (subject of honorary decree on (...)
  • 52 On the headings and prescripts of Athenian decrees, see Henry (1977).
  • 53 Pounder (1975), p. 22.
  • 54 See Bodel (2001), p. 19–24, on ‘symbolic epigraphy’.

20First, theoi/theos takes on different appearances: it can be presented simply as part of the text, as the first word of the first line on the stele (e.g. I.Oropos 4). At other times, however, the heading is presented more marked from the rest of the letters on stone. It can appear on its own line at the top of the document (e.g. I.Oropos 1, 2, 3, 277, 296, 297), or the letters of the heading can be evenly spread out across the full width of the stele (e.g. I.Oropos 295), either in smaller or larger letters than the rest of the document.49 When spread out, the heading can appear at the top of the text or even on the moulding (e.g. I.Oropos 292).50 We may wonder how meaningful the appearance of the heading is, and whether the way in which it is presented influences its visibility and, consequently, legibility. Both the presentation spread out across the stone, as well as the one when the heading is presented on its own line (left-aligned), can result in a much more conspicuous appearance, compared to when the heading is simply part of the rest of the text. Inscribed decrees commonly have other elements which make up a heading: the subject of the decree or the name of a relevant official is often written in larger letters at the top of the document.51 Such headings carry out a summative function and they thus appear to contribute to the legibility of the stele, giving the reader a quick idea of what is written in the document or at least allowing for easier identification of the text.52 The theoi heading is evidently distinct from such decree headings by the fact that it does not serve the same function of indicating the contents of the accompanying text; it does not function as signifier of the document in the same way. But could its more prominent appearance also suggest increased legibility is important for its purpose? This is difficult to argue, as theoi or theos is not consistently inscribed in a more conspicuous manner. Early cases especially do not appear to be particularly prominent.53 We thus cannot say that greater legibility and thus wider accessibility was an intricate, intentional, part of these divine headings. Nonetheless, considering the heading’s widespread usage and its frequent prominent appearance, this does not mean theoi or theos might not have developed into a signpost of sort, carrying with it the potential for extra-textual meaning, and influencing how viewers experienced these texts.54 In the discussion of the theoi heading on the Agora graffito above, we have already seen one way in which this role of signpost might have functioned, showing how the heading could carry with it connotations of official, public decision-making. As the first word a reader would see, theoi could function as an identifier of a type of inscription, telling the onlooker something about the genre of text which followed it.

  • 55 Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 131–132.
  • 56 As Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 132, point out, the many erasures in the inscription record the lo (...)
  • 57 Showing variety of genre: e.g. I.Thespies 38 (list of sacred property belonging to the people of (...)
  • 58 Cult regulation: CGRN 14 / I.Cret. IV 65; 3 decrees: I.Cret. IV 64; 78; SEG 27.631 (the latter is (...)
  • 59 Mack (2018), p. 384. Of the 83 public documents, 52 are honorific decrees, 16 concern interstate (...)
  • 60 Dedications with theoi headings: IG II2 2329 is a private dedication with theoi heading from Athe (...)
  • 61 e.g. Mack (2018), p. 384.

21This brings us to the question of the type of inscriptions on which the Greeks included these theoi and theos headings. In Oropos, all but one of the known headings are found on decrees: the exception is I.Oropos 277 which is a dossier of regulations concerning the Amphiareion sanctuary. As mentioned already above, the issuing authority of the document is unclear. However, the reference to a law (νόμος: l. 7–8), according to which the neokoros should fulfil his duties, and the references to fellow-citizens (δημότης: l. 9–10, 15, cf. δημορίων: l. 28–29) suggest that this document was issued by the community of Oropos during its brief period of independence in the 380s and 370s.55 Whether it was a law or an excerpt of a law, it evidently had the authority of an official enactment by a community.56 In general, the overwhelming majority of theoi headings found in Greece in the classical period appear on decrees: honorary decrees are particularly common, which in all likelihood corresponds to the fact that honorary decrees are also the most common type of decree to have been inscribed and displayed. Additionally, the heading is also found on all other types of decrees, on laws, treaties, property lists, financial documents, and sanctuary regulations.57 For example, in Crete we find 14 theoi headings on inscriptions dating to before 300 BCE: excluding one which is too fragmentary to categorise, these constitute 1 cult regulation, 3 decrees, 7 laws, 1 inter-state agreement, and 1 manumission document.58 Mack lists the numbers for Athens up to 300 BCE: excluding 26 decrees which cannot be categorized due to their fragmentary nature, we find 83 public documents, 24 financial accounts, 1 civic lease and 2 dedications by prytaneis.59 As these figures show, theoi is sometimes found on dedications (both private and, in a handful of cases, public ones) though this is extremely rare.60 The fact that the heading occurs on so many different types of inscriptions has led scholars to state that there is no particular connection between the heading and any type of text: there does not seem to be a clear correlation between the presence of the heading and the religious content of the inscribed document, for example.61 Yet this widespread presence obscures the fact that the overwhelming majority of theoi headings are found on official documents, texts inscribed by a civic, public body. The few recorded instances of theoi on dedications demonstrate that there was not a fixed rule which prevented theoi from appearing elsewhere, but the rarity shows this was not the norm, not the primary purpose of the heading.

  • 62 Crete, like Athens, displays preference for the plural version of the heading, except for one int (...)
  • 63 IG IX 1 (Phocis, Lokris, Aitolia, Akarnania and Ionian Islands) and IG IX 2 (covering Thessaly), (...)

22Third, whilst the plural version of the heading is better known because it is this version which is employed in Athens, other Greek states commence decrees and other inscribed documents sometimes with θεός, sometimes with θεοί.62 Thessaly, Phocis and the Ionian Islands display a preference for the singular, though sometimes also utilise the plural, while Delphi is an example of a place which uses both: the rich epigraphic evidence from the oracular city shows both versions in approximately equal use.63 The inscriptions from Oropos also employ both forms of the heading, although the large majority uses θεοί, with only 2 occurrences of θεός. They illustrate a trend that we see across the epigraphic record: there does not seem to be an easily discernible explanation for why the divine is sometimes invoked in the singular and sometimes in the plural in these headings. I.Oropos 3, which has θεοί as heading, dates from the same time period as I.Oropos 1 and 2, both of which record θεός. I.Oropos 4 and 5 are proxeny decrees, similar to I.Oropos 1 and 2: yet numbers 4 and 5 use the plural heading, while I.Oropos 1 and 2 employ the singular. We see no difference here in terms of subject matter or type of inscription which governs the choice for θεός or θεοί, nor can we find any simple pattern of explanation in terms of geography or chronology. This interchangeability of the singular and plural forms of the divine heading appears present throughout the Greek world and can perhaps then best be understood as two different forms for the expression of the same idea.

Interpreting theoi

  • 64 This is the standard interpretation since Traywick (1969) who already rejected the old Attic for (...)
  • 65 Pounder (1975), p. 37–38. Cf. also Mack (2018), p. 381. On the absence of a singular vocative for (...)

23What exactly the idea is that rests behind this heading of course remains the crucial question. Taking into account the interchangeability of the θεοί/θεός forms helps clarify a very basic, yet central, question, which is that of the heading’s grammatical case. θεοί is usually understood as either nominative or vocative.64 If we take θεοί as a vocative, the act of inscribing the heading would make the inscription an address to the divine. However, the case for the vocative is undermined by the widespread occurrence outside of Athens of the singular θεός and its apparent interchangeability with θεοί, as Pounder already recognised: θεός does not appear to have a vocative in the singular, which thus supports a nominative reading.65

  • 66 Not including Pounder’s apotropaic theory, for which see above, n. 62.
  • 67 Woodhead (1981), p. 39, followed also by Chaniotis (1996), p. 84–85; Rhodes – Osborne (2003), p. (...)
  • 68 Larfeld (1898), p. 591.
  • 69 Henry (1977), p. xi; Harris (2004), p. 28; Thomas (2005), p. 56.
  • 70 Mack (2018).
  • 71 Mack (2018), p. 382.

24In general, as already mentioned, scholars have interpreted the θεοί heading in varied ways, which we can separate out into four different interpretations.66 The first is as a reflection of ritual: Woodhead, for example, suggested the heading can be read as a reflection of the Assembly’s opening prayer, which itself was an appeal to favour from the gods.67 A second interpretation sees it as a consecration formula, that is, as a dedication to the gods.68 In this reading, θεοί denotes that the stone stele with its document is offered to the divine as a dedication. A third interpretation sees it as an appeal to divine protection or divine favour.69 Here, θεοί or θεός is taken as a blessing formula: a request to the gods to protect the document inscribed on the stone, or rather the decisions or actions which the document broadcasts. More recently, William Mack has offered a new perspective: θεοί, he proposes, places the gods in the role of ‘active agents’.70 He argues that the θεοί heading, together with the document reliefs and the fact that many decrees and official documents were set up in sanctuaries, suggests that divine authority sanctioned, in some purposefully unspecified way, the decisions taken by the Athenian demos. These four explanations present different interpretations of the epigraphic expression of a relationship between the divine and the human sphere. Some of these suggest θεοί is a communication to the gods (asking for favour or benefaction, or mirroring a ritual action), or even a ritual action in and of itself, by presenting the stele as belonging to the gods. Mack’s interpretation differs from the others in suggesting a stronger reading: instead of expressing an uncertain wish for future involvement or benefaction, the heading could be read as suggesting divine involvement in the actions described in the text below the heading.71 The invocation θεοί, in this reading, is not a request, prayer or wish to the gods to support the accompanying inscription’s actions, but rather an assertion of the gods as actors and active agents, the nominative case of the heading being important here. It is thus a communication about the gods.

25Mack’s interpretation is very valuable, and I want to argue in the remainder of this article that it is in this direction that we need to go to comprehend what this reference to gods, so frequently inscribed on stones, means. To show why this is so, it will be useful to take a closer look at the different interpretations mentioned above, the first three of which I want to argue actually correspond better to other divine formulae we find on inscriptions, not to the θεοί/θεός heading. As such, it is by contextualizing θεοί in a broader context of ways in which deities are referenced in inscriptions that I think a fuller, more nuanced picture emerges of what meaning such formulae actually carry.

Reflection of prayer

  • 72 Aeschin. 1.23; cf. Ath. Pol. 43.6.
  • 73 Chaniotis (1996), p. 84–85, follows Woodhead’s interpretation of theoi as reflection of prayer. H (...)

26Let us commence with the idea of theoi functioning as a reflection of the performance of rituals in the assembly. As already clear from the reference to Woodhead’s argument above, proponents of this interpretation are usually focused on the Athenian context, where we know that a purifying sacrifice and ancestral prayers were performed at the start of every Assembly meeting.72 Inscribing theoi on the stelae which record and display the decisions made at these meetings, this interpretation argues, is a casting back to this ritual, and thus itself reflects a prayer or request to the gods. Of course, theoi and theos occur on inscriptions outside of Athens too, and this Athenocentric reading thus needs to be adjusted to the totality of our evidence: while one might assume other decision-making bodies in other Greek cities performed similar rituals as we find in the Athenian assembly, we have little concrete evidence for what this might look like.73 More importantly, however, the heading’s haphazardness undermines this interpretation. The fact that theoi or theos was not included on all inscriptions of a particular type in a particular time or place is in and of itself an important characteristic of the heading, and proves that it cannot be understood as a ritual necessity. Invoking the gods on the published record of a decree or other resolution was evidently not considered essential to the working and enactment of such resolutions, and it is therefore unlikely to be a mirror of a ritual which was part of public decision-making processes.

Consecration formula

  • 74 Larfeld (1898), p. 591.
  • 75 Meyer (2013), p. 458–459.
  • 76 Lambert (2018), p. 23. Cf. also Bodel (2009), p. 27–28, on ‘sacred dedications’: what makes somet (...)

27The idea that theoi is a consecration formula was first proposed by Larfeld: he argued that the heading consecrated the inscription, as well as seeing it as calling to the gods as observer and protector of the contents of the document inscribed.74 Consecration implies that the text or stele, or both, is made sacred. Most references to the divine in epigraphic contexts have such a sacralising function: deities’ names appear extremely commonly on inscriptions either in the dative, indicating the recipient of a gift or offering (e.g. CGRN 17, 34); or else in the genitive, as a way of denoting the divine ownership of an object, for example an altar or even a sanctuary (e.g. CGRN 9, 73, 77). But such consecration formulae are found on dedications and votive offerings; very rarely on decrees, regulations or other records of collective decision-making. As mentioned in the introduction, recent focus on the placement of inscriptions as objects in sacred spaces has highlighted the religious meaning inscriptions carried. Meyer has developed this further by arguing that even types of inscriptions not explicitly dedicated to gods as gifts or honours, such as decrees and public regulations, should be thought of as offers to the gods whose sanctuary they were placed in.75 She thus argues that texts such as laws and decrees also carried a dedicatory aspect. As Lambert has advocated, however, it is important not to disregard the differences between inscriptions which have an explicit intention of honouring the gods, like dedications, and those stelae where the ‘religiosity of the intention’ is vaguer and not explicitly articulated.76 Public civic rules and regulations, such as laws and decrees, evidently do address both gods and humans, but their function of imparting information to a human audience has as consequence that they are both more ‘practical’ as well as broader in meaning than inscriptions which dedicate the object they are inscribed on to a god or goddess. However, there are a few exceptional cases where consecration formula are used on regulatory documents, and it is useful to examine them here: they help us to articulate how the idea of consecration is expressed in Greek epigraphy, and also how consecration formulae relate to the theoi heading.

  • 77 Long dated to the Lycurgan period, Knoepfler (1986) convincingly redated I.Oropos 290 to 376–366 (...)
  • 78 As Wilding (2022), p. 75, argues.
  • 79 I.Oropos 290, l. 25–28: ἐπαινέσαι δὲ τὸν ἱερέα το͂ Ἀμφιαράο Ἀντικράτη Δεκελέα δικαιοσύνης καὶ ἐπι (...)

28A first example of a consecration formula on a decree is one which we have already come across in the Oropos corpus: I.Oropos 290 is a stele which records a decree and contract from the Athenian council concerning the restoration of the fountain and the baths of the sanctuary of Amphiaraos. It carries as heading: ἱερὰ Ἀμφιαράο: ‘the sacred things, or thing, of Amphiaraos’. The god appears here in the genitive, denoting possession of ἱερά, which can best be understood as a reference to the στήλη itself: ‘the stele of Amphiaraos’. We find here then on a decree of the Athenian council a formula which explicitly offers the stele, with its decree and implications, to a god, explicitly identified as Amphiaraos. It is a remarkable decree in other ways too. Dated to 369/8 BCE, the decree was passed during a period of Athenian control of Oropos: the Athenians had regained the city from Thebes by 373 BCE and held on to it until 366.77 This is significant, as we see in this inscription a conscious effort to give expression to the Athenians’ care for this important incubation sanctuary and to mark it as an extension of Attica, soon after they take control of the territory.78 It is the first inscription at the Amphiareion to employ Attic demotics, and places specific emphasis also on the priest of the Amphiareion, who is twice explicitly mentioned in the text (l. 2, 26–27), his name also including a demotic: “honouring Antikrates from Dekeleia for his justice and diligence with things concerning the Amphiareion” (l. 25–28).79 The inscription, the earliest surviving inscribed decree erected at the sanctuary, is aimed at reflecting Athenian authority over the sanctuary, to demonstrate Athens’ power to make changes and improvements to its facilities. The unusually explicit consecration to Amphiaraos of the stele and its inscribed decree can perhaps be understood as part of this specific attempt to display Athens’ control of, and care for, the sanctuary and its god.

29A second example of a decree which employs a formula of consecration is an inscription from Piraeus from the 2nd century (IG II2 1325, 185/4 BCE). It records a decree from a private cult association of Dionysos, the Dionysiastai. The text commences with the expressions ἱερὰ Διονύσου and ἀγαθεῖ τύχει, before continuing with a list of names of the association’s members and the decree itself, which awards honours to Dionysos of Marathon, the priest and benefactor of the association’s cult:

ἱερὰ Διονύσου.
ἀγαθεῖ τύχει· ὀργεῶνες·
list of names
ἀγαθεῖ τύχει· ἐ[πὶ] Εὐπολέμου ἄρχοντος, Ποσιδεῶνος ἀγορᾶι κυρίαι· ἔδοξεν τοῖς [Διον]υσιασταῖς· (…)

(Stele) sacred to Dionysos
For good fortune. Orgeones:
list of names
For good fortune. Eupolemos was archon. In the month Poseidon, in the regular assembly: it was decided by the Dionysiastai (…)

  • 80 On the Dionysiastai and their association, see Jaccottet (2003), esp. p. 163–171 (vol. 1) and p.  (...)
  • 81 Harris (2021), p. 29.

30The inscription was found in the sanctuary of Dionysos together with another decree (honouring Dionysos of Marathon again, this time posthumously, IG II2 1326) and a dedication (IG II2 2948).80 While it is not a decree emanating from a public body, it uses language in its enactment formula and prescript copied from such public decrees: something which private associations commonly do.81 Yet at the same time, the consecration formula gives the stele a dedicatory dimension: it turns it into a gift to the god, alongside also memorializing the gifts which Dionysos of Marathon himself made to the gods, which the decree documents. It thus highlights the cultic context in which the decisions recorded here were made, and were made meaningful: we here then again find the consecration of a decree in a context in which the connection to the specific deity is obvious and highlighted.

  • 82 A few other laws and decrees which open with named deities in the genitive or dative: LSCG 19 (At (...)

31What then does this have to do with our theoi heading? First, these cases shows that the idea of consecration is rarely made explicit on stelae which document civic decision-making. Secondly, when this is done, the stele and its record is dedicated to a specific deity, who is evidently relevant to the content of the inscription.82 One final example emphasizes this difference between invoking the gods, as theoi or theos in the nominative does, and honouring the gods with a dedication, as consecration formula in the genitive or dative do. This inscription is not a decree; it is a ritual norm which prescribes purity regulations for the cult of three Egyptian gods at Megalopolis in Arcadia, dated to ca. 200 BCE (CGRN 155). Yet it is useful to discuss as it includes again a consecration formula, but this time also the theos heading, evincing clearly that these elements are separately conceptualized. The inscription opens with:

στάλα Ἴσιος Σαράπιος.
θεός· τύχα ἀγαθά. ἱερὸν ἅγιον Ἴσιος
Σαράπιος ᾿Ανούβιος (…)

Stele of Isis and Sarapis.
God. Good Fortune. A sanctuary sacred to Isis,
Sarapis, Anubis. (…)

  • 83 See also the discussion of this text in Lupu (2005), p. 205–213.

32The divine interest is pronounced in this inscription: not only does the stele ascribe divine ownership of itself, but the sanctuary whose entry the stele regulates is also explicitly declared to belong to Isis, Sarapis and Anubis.83 That the stele only belongs to two gods, while the sanctuary to three, is noteworthy, but my focus here lies on the fact that the inscription includes a consecration formula, followed by the theos formula, and a reference to τύχα ἀγαθά, ‘Good Fortune’. We will revisit this latter phrase here below, but what is important for now is that this plethora of divine formula makes clear the subtleties of invoking divine powers: of course the combination of these all together is highly unusual, but nevertheless it suggests a differentiation, even if subtle, between these elements. It would make no sense to say the same thing three times. We should thus see these different formulae as each making a separate semantic contribution: a consecration formula, followed by theos which is something different, followed by a reference to agathe tyche, something different again. The idea of consecration thus occurs in Greek inscriptions, but, as we can see, it finds a different expression than theoi. While it is possible of course to express the same idea in different ways, the occurrence together of these elements suggests they are not seen as the same thing. We can therefore rule out seeing theoi or theos simply as a way of expressing that the stele it forms part of is dedicated to the gods.

Appeal to divine favour

  • 84 Henry (1977), p. xi; Hedrick (1989), p. 129; Thomas (2005), p. 56.
  • 85 Traywick (1969), p. 326–327; McLean (2002), p. 219, who argues that “the later formula agathei ty (...)

33A third explanation sometimes given to the theoi heading is that it functions as an appeal to divine favour.84 In this reading, it comes close in meaning to the phrase ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ, ‘with/for good fortune’, which is sometimes even seen as a ‘replacement’ of theoi, especially in the Hellenistic period and later.85 How should we understand the relationship between these two divine formulae?

  • 86 Recent research on tyche approaches the topic rather piecemeal, with Allègre (1889) still the onl (...)
  • 87 IG II3 1 445, for example, establishes Tyche has a cult and temple in Athens by 335 BCE. On the d (...)
  • 88 On the relationship between (the cults of) Tyche and Agathe Tyche, see Eidinow (2011), p. 48.
  • 89 On the cult of Tyche in the Hellenistic and Roman periods, see Sfameni Gasparro (1997); Christof (...)
  • 90 = G64 in Gagarin – Perlman (2016).

34The notion of tyche, fortune or fate, has a complex history in ancient Greece.86 Already in early literary texts, tyche makes appearances as Tyche, a minor mythological deity, growing in significance and definition from her portrayal as a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys in Hesiod’s Theogony (Hes. Theog. 360) to a saviour goddess, daughter of Zeus Eleutherios in Pindar’s poems (Pind. Olymp. 12). In literature of the classical period, tyche continues to appear at times as a personified figure, for example in comedy (Men. Aspis). In many other texts, however, such as in historiography and oratory, the extent to which references to tyche are to a personified deity, or to an abstract notion of fate or fortune, or both, remains more ambiguous. The cult of Tyche as goddess, with definitive evidence for her worship, appears for the first time in the fourth century BCE, in Epidauros, Phrygia, Heraclea and Athens, among other places.87 As a heading, tyche appears on inscriptions throughout the Greek world in a variety of forms, most commonly as part of the phrase agathe tyche.88 Similarly to tyche on its own, agathe tyche too has a range of meanings: from a simple expression of ‘good luck’ or ‘good fortune’ (e.g. Aristoph. Thesm. 283, Birds 675), to references to the goddess Good Fortune, who received enthusiastic cult across the Greek world in the Hellenistic period.89 The popularity and importance, in this later period, of cults of Tyche and Agathe Tyche, commonly associated with cities and leaders, means that agathe tyche is often considered a particularly Hellenistic phenomenon: as a heading, it does indeed become much more prevalent and prominent from the third century onwards, through to the Roman period. Going back to our Oropos examples, we see that both I.Oropos 4 and 5 have as heading: θεοί· τύχηι ἀγαθῆι. The earliest recorded example of agathe tyche as a heading, found on Crete, is similar: it is an honorific decree from Gortyn (I.Cret. IV 61), dated to the last quarter of the sixth century, and opens with θ̣ιοί, θυκἀγαθᾶι.90

  • 91 In an early example in Athens it occurs as part of the εἶπε-phrase: in IG I3 40 (446/5 BCE) a pro (...)
  • 92 In Classical Athens agathe tyche does not make it to heading but it continues to be included only (...)
  • 93 Pounder (1975), p. 40.
  • 94 ἐπὶ σωτηρίαι appears for example as heading in IG IX 1, 694, but mostly it is found in the body o (...)

35After this early appearance at Gortyn, ἀγαθῆι τύχηι develops a place for itself in Greek inscriptions in the fifth century as part of the δεδόχθαι-phrase of decrees: “The council shall decide (δεδόχθαι) for the good fortune of the Athenian people and council (ἀγαθῆι τύχηι τοῦ δήμου τοῦ Ἀθηναίων καὶ τῆς βουλῆς) to praise (…)”, for instance (IG II3 1, 306; 343/2 BCE).91 Only in the fourth century does it makes its way out of the body of the text to take up a position of prominence as heading.92 As Pounder already recognized, this indicates the dative ἀγαθῆι τύχηι should not be understood in a dedicatory sense, but rather as holding on to its original adverbial quality, its clear relation to the text still apparent even after it has moved position: ‘with good fortune’.93 In this way, it is similar to another epigraphic divine formula, ἐπὶ σωτηρίαι (‘for the safety of ’), a stock phrase which also appears mostly in the body of decrees, but occasionally as heading.94 Differentiation from theoi is corroborated too by the syntactical relationship implied in those cases where agathe tyche in the dative appears together with the nominative theoi. This common combination suggests that the elements ‘god/gods’ and ‘good fortune’ are two syntactically different types of pronouncements: active agent and desired object, respectively. Furthermore, another early form in which the agathe tyche heading is found, in the accusative, confirms this. For example, a proxeny decree from Delphi from 342/1 BCE (F.Delphes III 4.378) opens with: θεοί· τύχαν ἀγαθάν.

  • 95 Cf. Mack (2018), p. 381.
  • 96 Contra Tracy (1994), p. 243–244, who argues that the phrase agathei tychei in Attic inscriptions (...)

36In both the dative and accusative cases, we see a syntactic relationship implied, with verb omitted.95 This presentation of agathe tyche in the accusative and dative suggests that agathe tyche and theoi have different functions, illustrated by their different cases: agathe tyche, usually in dative, or sometimes in accusative, is the object, that which the gods are being asked for. Here, agathe tyche as heading should thus not be understood as an invocation to the deity Tyche but rather as a formulation of the desired object, addressed to theos or theoi.96

  • 97 Interestingly, the invocation θεοί τύχη is followed by a crowded insertion on the next line of τῆ (...)

37However, this picture of τύχη is made more complex by its appearance also in the nominative as a heading on inscribed texts. Before even the development of the phrase agathe tyche in the body of decrees, τύχη occurs as heading in the nominative, often alongside theos or theoi. We have already come across an example of this in the accounts for Pheidias’ statue of Athena, where we found θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε (IG I3 459). Mostly, this form of the heading occurs simply as θεοί τύχη or θεός τύχη. A lease of land in Rhamnous (339/8 BCe), for example, commences with θεοί τύχη (IG II2 2493).97 Other examples occur in Delphi (e.g. F.Delphes III 1.423), Arcadia (e.g. IG V 2, 1 = Rhodes – Osborne, GHI 32), Boeotia (e.g. I.Thespies 38) and Cyrene (e.g. Meiggs – Lewis, GHI 5), among others. How should we understand this? Does this manifestation of tyche in the nominative suggest a different relationship to the theos or theoi it accompanies, compared to the more common occurrences we saw in the accusative and dative? How do we interpret the close connection between the two notions of ‘god(s)’ and ‘fortune’ which the θεός/θεοί τύχη formula implies, with its placement of these two elements in such direct proximity and in apparent equal relation?

  • 98 On the Hellenistic ‘obsession’ with cults of Fortune, see Matheson (1994).
  • 99 Eidinow (2011), p. 144–150. On the consequences for morality of a personification of Tyche, see D (...)

38As remarked at the beginning of this section, tyche is a complex notion, an unknowable power which makes its appearance in our sources in different models, or languages, of luck and fate. This is especially so in classical Greece, before the crystallisation in the Hellenistic period of one of these models in the personification of Tyche as a cult goddess—but even then, Tyche is worshipped in different forms and guises, from a deity operational in the individual sphere as protector goddess, to a powerful political presence as city guardian, linked to rulers.98 Esther Eidinow has recently illustrated how such various different models of fate existed concurrently, by analysing the ways in which fate is talked about in the speeches of Demosthenes and Aeschines. In their speeches in the trial On the Crown (Dem. 18, Aeschin. 3), the two orators present differing ideas of tyche: sometimes as temporary prosperity, or as an unavoidable and unchanging force; as a fixed notion of personalized luck tied to individuals, or a placatable broader force linked to a city’s fortune.99 In all these different models, tyche is an operational force of life.

  • 100 F.Delphes III 1.161: θεοί. τύχα ἀγαθά (320–310 BCE); 408: [θεοί. τ]ύχη ἀγαθ[] (324/3 BCE); 412: (...)
  • 101 F.Delphes III 1.420: θεοὶ τύχαν (325–275 BCE); 135: θεὸς τύχαν ἀγαθάν (318–305 BCE).
  • 102 F.Delphes III 1.410; θεοί. ἀγαθῆι τύχη[ι] (ca. 319 BCE); 416: θεός. τύχαι ἀγαθᾶι (end 4th cent. B (...)
  • 103 Eidinow (2011), p. 29.
  • 104 Cf. Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 156–160.

39In inscriptions, we similarly see a variety of ways in which tyche could be invoked as heading—fitting in with the variety of models of fate and fortune which existed in ancient Greece. This is especially evident if we look at Delphi, where a collection of proxeny decrees from the second half of the fourth century highlights this heterogeneity: on similar documents which were set up in the same place, in roughly the same time period, we find headings of theoi or theos with tyche in the nominative (F.Delphes III 1.161; 408; 412)100; theoi or theos with tyche in the accusative (420; 135)101; and theoi or theos with tyche in the dative (410)102. It is this plurality of conceptions which helps us focalize on the essence of the meaning presented in the divine headings which reference tyche: whether θεοί, τύχη ἀγαθή, θεός, τύχαν ἀγαθάν, or θεοί, ἀγαθῆι τύχηι.103 These forms all carried out similar functions: they include a reference to theos/theoi—to a generic notion of the divine, unknown and anonymous, whose presence is highlighted. It is a statement of fact: ‘god’ or ‘gods’. Tyche’s appearance alongside this, similarly, is mostly not a reference to a particular deity but a reference to the notion of fortune: whether or not that notion is portrayed as an object, asking the gods for good fortune (in the dative and accusative forms), or whether tyche is presented as a more separate power, on equal footing with the divine in the nominative form—as is the case with the Athena statue—or even explicitly as a deity: this latter is the case for a fourth-century inscription from Arcadia (Rhodes – Osborne, GHI 32), where the heading θεός, τύχη is topped by a relief showing Tyche as goddess holding a helmet and touching a trophy.104 Whether or not tyche as a heading is a personification per se, or an expression of a different kind of form this force can take, does not really matter: the crucial thing is that tyche is an operational force in life, though what exact form it takes is not necessarily fixed.

40So far this analysis of different interpretations of theoi has created a sharper outline of the different ways in which the gods were referenced in epigraphic documents in ancient Greece. While the formulae employed (agathe tyche, theoi, epi soteria, and expressions of divine possession) all constitute ways in which to express and denote a relationship between what one inscribes and the divine, the manner in which this relationship is conceptualised differs, depending on the formula employed.

Theoi as active agent

  • 105 Mack (2018), p. 382.
  • 106 Ibid.

41This brings us then finally back to theoi/theos. If not an appeal for divine favour or protection, a consecration formula, or a reflection of a particular ritual, what does this reference to ‘gods’ or ‘god’ mean? The fourth interpretation I want to discuss focuses on the nominative force of theoi. In his 2018 study, Mack argues that the heading could be read as suggesting divine involvement in the actions described in the document below the heading.105 With theoi placed in the role of ‘active agents’, the heading is in this reading an assertion or recognition of divine involvement in political action, Mack argues.106

  • 107 Mack (2018), p. 390. Cf. also Willey (2016), who argues the theological significance of divine in (...)
  • 108 Mack (2018), p. 390.

42It is useful here to briefly outline the analysis on which Mack’s interpretation of the theoi heading is based. His main focus lies on the Athenian document reliefs. These are pictorial reliefs which were sculpted at the top of some inscribed public documents in Athens: they often depicted specific deities alongside figures referenced in the texts inscribed on the stelae. These reliefs, Mack contends, should be read not only as symbolic representations of the actions of the decrees which they accompany, but also as serious depictions of divine agency and divine involvement in the decision-making processes which the inscribed decrees and laws constitute. The exact nature of the relationship between gods and public decision-making presented by these inscriptions, with their theoi headings and document reliefs, could be read in different ways: the decrees might be seen as the result of direct divine causation; as human imitation of divine behaviour; or as the result of successful ritual invocation of the gods. The possibility of parallel readings, Mack argues, “allowed these monuments to function effectively in an intellectual context in which, while divine agency was for the most part an accepted fact of human life, uncertainty was necessarily built into discourse about it at every level”.107 The theoi headings, together with the document reliefs and the fact that many decrees and official documents were set up in sanctuaries, make clear that “the human decisions of the Athenian demos were underwritten in some way by divine authority”, even if the specifics of how this was envisioned remain unclear.108

43Mack’s study makes an important and highly innovative contribution to our understanding of the religious meaning of inscribed texts. His reading of the theoi headings, however, is largely built around his analysis of the document reliefs, which constitute a very Athenian phenomenon. These reliefs, which present a narrative snapshot and often include an explicit choice of specific deity or deities (most often Athena, but also Hera, or personifications such as Demos and Boule) allow for more interpretive possibilities regarding the exact nature of the relationship between the divine and the monument itself. They constitute a very different kind of element from the θεοί headings, which are found not only in great quantity in Athens but also occur across a much wider geographical and chronological spread. It is precisely by taking note of this wider geographical distribution and focusing on the headings’ non-specificity that we can explore further what these headings mean.

  • 109 So already Jones (1913), who collected instances of the vague use of theos. His stated aim—to inv (...)
  • 110 E.g. DVC 543b, 1433a, 2229. Cf. Lhôte (2006), p. 343.
  • 111 Cf. François (1957), p. 201–245; Mikalson (1983), p. 67ff. On Herodotus, see Harrison (2000), p.  (...)
  • 112 François (1957), p. 305. Cf. Rudhardt (1966), p. 356.
  • 113 Cf. Rudhardt (1966).
  • 114 The first reason is most common: as Parker (2011), p. 65–67 emphasises, this is the result of the (...)
  • 115 Versnel (2011), p. 268–279.

44Throughout the archaic and classical periods, generic terms for the divine, such as not only (οἱ) θεοί and () θεός but also τὸ θεῖον and () δαίμων, are commonly found across all kinds of sources.109 At times it is evident that such designations were employed to refer to specific gods, which the context can usually identify. It is clear, for example, that invocations to θεός found on oracular tablets from Dodona refer to Zeus, the god residing at the oracular sanctuary.110 Yet at other times the identity of the referent is less evident. Demosthenes, for example, exhorts his listeners that brave men must endure worthily whatever fate the god ( θεός) may allot them (Dem. 18.97), while historians might offer explanations of events by attributing agency to unidentified θεοί or θεός (e.g. Hdt. 7.10e; 8.13; Thuc. 7.77.4; Xen. Hell. 5.2.18).111 Choruses in Greek tragedy often declare that gods (θεοί) bring about many unexpected things, because a god (θεός) finds a way of achieving the unexpected (e.g. Eur. Bacc. 1389–1391; Med. 1416–1418). As this latter example illustrates, and as already demonstrated by Gilbert François in 1957, singular and plural forms are frequently employed alternatively without difference in meaning, as two different ways of referring to the same idea.112 The unity of the divine and the plurality of gods are not notions which stand in opposition to each other.113 In general, such generic and unspecific terms for the divine are used in ancient Greece for three principal reasons: to express uncertainty or secrecy about the identity of the deity or deities in question; to emphasize the divine nature of a being; or to emphasize divine power in action.114 Broadly speaking, we can organise such references to θεοί as an ‘abstract collective’ into two broad categories, with two subtly distinct meanings: in the first category, it is the notion of collectiveness which predominates; in the second, the abstractness. Versnel, in an examination of the complexity of number in describing Greek deities, has delineated the two meanings of θεοί as follows115:

  1. The term can signify the plural of θεὸς, designating all the gods, that is, the collective gods. In this reading, θεοί denotes the multitude of individual deities. These multiple gods are not anonymous, and it is this meaning which is found mostly in prayers and other acts of communication with the divine.

    • 116 Versnel (2011), p. 278.

    θεοί can however also be a generic expression: “though grammatically a plural, from a semantic point of view it refers to a unity, a oneness, signifying one all-governing divine principle.”116 θεοί in this reading is thus not distinct from, but semantically equal to, θεὸς or τὸ θεῖον.

  • 117 Versnel (2011), p. 272.
  • 118 Versnel (2011), p. 273.

45Versnel has shown that a primary distinction between these two notions is anonymity: in the first notion, the gods are known and named deities, while in the second notion, theoi in the generic sense are by their very nature anonymous.117 Versnel also links approachability to this: he argues that only in the first notion are the gods approachable and can they be asked for help and assistance. We might place the invocation ‘all the gods’/‘the gods’ found commonly at the end of a string of deities in oaths in this category, or dedications of statue bases ‘to the gods’ (θεοῖς) which become extremely common in the Hellenistic period (e.g. I.Délos 1173–1174, 1086; I.Lindos 1.147–148, 162.) In the second notion, anonymity is taken to mean that these theoi are unavailable for communication: references to theoi in this sense are, Versnel has categorised, never requests for aid or support, but rather concern the assignment of causality. For instance, in the Demosthenes quote mentioned above, theos is the origin of whatever man has to face. And in speeches by Andocides and Lysias, for example, it is theoi who punish the impious (Andoc. 1.137, 139; Lys. 6.13, 28). When the gods are a comprehensive anonymous notion, “a reference [to this category] may provide a cause for disaster but is not helpful as to the desire for solution, help or recovery. Being an unapproachable supernatural principle ‘the god(s)’ cannot be mollified and there is no point in prayer or sacrifice.”118

46This categorization and classification is useful to think with, as it allows us to dig deeper into the connotations and nuances which the generic terms theoi and theos can carry with them. In a polytheistic system in which onomastic practices carried out descriptive as well as prescriptive functions, providing not only access to the divine for the worshipper, but also serving as expressions for ideological projections by those worshippers, unnamed deities stand out. What might theoi at the top of a stele mean? What implications or suggestions might the inscription of the term theoi carry with it? Can this heading be classified into one of the two above categories?

  • 119 As such, Versnel declares he “cannot be sure which of the two possible denotations (or if one pre (...)
  • 120 Versnel (2011), p. 279.

47Generally, we can usually deduce from context which of the two meanings or connotations a particular reference to ‘gods’ might carry, but in the case of the theoi and theos headings found on inscribed documents, immediate context is rather lacking.119 However, this does not mean that we cannot classify it: based on the interchangeability of the singular and plural versions of the heading, we can make the argument that these headings fit into the second category of meaning discussed above. If we took θεοί in its first meaning, as denoting ‘all the gods’, then this would distinguish the heading θεοί from the heading θεός: the latter would then be referring to a particular, singular deity. As we have seen, the evidence does not evince this: θεοί and θεός appear interchangeably, suggesting they carry the same meaning. There is also no suggestion that the singular heading refers to a specific deity, as shown by certain cases where we might have expected to see singularity if this signified specificity. For example, I.Oropos 296 is a decree by which the Athenian people award the god Amphiaraos a crown for his good care of the Athenians who have visited his sanctuary at Oropos. In this highly unusual decree, a particular deity, Amphiaraos, is placed at the centre: he is awarded a crown, a very exceptional honour for a god. If one were to understand the heading theos as having one specific deity in mind, one might expect to find such a heading on this decree, as a further reference to the god being honoured here. Yet the decree is headed by θεοί, not θεός (see Fig. 10). An opposite example is the opening stele recording the iamata from Epidauros (IG IV² 1, 121) from 350–300 BCE. Here the heading θεός in the left-hand corner and τύχα [ἀγ]αθά in the right-hand corner is followed on the next line by the title [ἰά]ματα τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος καὶ τοῦ Ἀσκλαπιοῦ (“iamata of Apollo and Asklepios”). It is clear we should not see θεός as referring to one of the two Epidaurian gods specified in the title, whose healing actions this stele records.120 The lack of any indication that the θεός heading signifies a particular, singular god, as well as the apparent interchangeability of the singular and plural versions of the headings, together suggest that these accord better to the notion of θεοί highlighted in the second category above: a general, unified and collective sense of divinity, a power articulated by its divine nature.

  • 121 In arguing anonymity also equals unapproachability, however, Versnel seems to take the point too (...)
  • 122 Versnel (2011), p. 273–274, discusses only negative attributions of cause, that is, post-event ex (...)
  • 123 Cf. Ma (2013), p. 18, who in his analysis of inscriptions on honorific statues has shown the nece (...)
  • 124 Pirenne-Delforge (2018), p. 45–46, emphasises the significance of this presence of the gods for t (...)
  • 125 Rudhardt (1966), p. 361.

48This understanding of the theoi heading as a reference to the anonymous collectivity of gods then has consequences for what the heading means. It confirms that theoi or theos should not be considered an appeal to the divine—despite the many interpretations which we saw do so. In Versnel’s analysis of theoi references which fit into the second category above, he demonstrates that the anonymity of the gods referred to is incompatible with an act of communication requesting assistance or favour.121 Instead, such references function causally: as explanation for a particular event or notion.122 It is in this sense that one should understand the inclusion of anonymous divinity at the top of inscriptions: as an attribution of causeas a recognition of the presence and power of the divine, in the process which resulted in the inscription of the stele. In this way, it is the simple presence of theoi/theos on the stone which in the first place deserves our attention.123 Even before thinking of theoi/theos as a nominative, announcing the gods as active agents, we must recognise that the inscription of this heading brings the gods in: it indisputably summons the divine, awards them a presence in the space of the stele, the monument and its inscription.124 As we have seen, theoi is a phenomenon included nearly exclusively on inscriptions which are official documents, texts inscribed by a community to record an action or decision. Adding such a reference to ‘the divine’ at the top of these texts is another way of expressing the relationship between the community and its decision-making, and its gods: it is a way of lending divine authority to the document, the monument it is inscribed on, and the actions it records. As Rudhardt put it, theos has a ‘densité d’être ’: both theoi and theos refer not only to the divine itself, but to the presence of this divine, and consequently also to the effects of this divine presence—even if the details of such effects might be unknown.125

Conclusion

49To conclude, I hope to have shown in this study that divine epigraphic formulae are worth paying attention to, as they demonstrate the diverse ways in which the ancient Greeks expressed and conceptualised the relevance of their gods to their own actions and decision-making, as recorded in the decrees, laws and other regulations which they inscribed on stone. Many of these formulae function as communication to the divine, through expressive honouring of the gods referenced (consecration formula) or making demands to the gods (blessing formulae such as agathei tychei and epi soteria). However, theoi, or theos, frequently inscribed at the top of inscriptions, differs. In its essence, it is a communication about the divine: a statement of divine presence and a recognition of this presence, and consequent power, of the gods. The fact that theoi/theos was widespread but not ubiquitous is in and of itself an important characteristic of the heading, and crucial for our understanding of this practice. Its unpredictable appearance is not simply a sign of a lack of significant meaning, but rather informs us about what the heading is and is not. The fact that it was not included on all inscriptions of a particular type in a particular time or place means that it cannot be understood as a ritual necessity. It is not possible, for example, to consider it a direct reflection of the performance of the Athenian Assembly’s prayer. Nor was invoking the gods on the published record of a decree considered essential to the working and enactment of a decree. Instead, theoi or theos should be understood as a statement of divine presence: the heading expressed an idea which was apparent and clear enough that it did not need invariable and constant expression.

  • 126 Rhodes – Osborne (2003), p. 157.
  • 127 Feeney (1988), p. 41.

50Of course, there is an element of formulaicness to the expression theoi/theos—so much so that it can be used to parody the genre of public inscriptions, as illustrated by the graffito this article started with. Furthermore, it is important not to take the distinction between the different divine epigraphic formulae too far, nor to overthink their intentionality. Epigraphic practice, and especially variety in the way prescripts are recorded, shows there clearly was freedom in how texts could be written down: attitudes to accuracy also were not necessarily the same as are prevalent today.126 Perhaps the decision to reference theoi or theos, or even theoi tyche, to include a request for good fortune in the form of agathe tyche or not, are all options open to a writer of documents, as different ways of representing divine engagement with the document inscribed. Nonetheless, this does not mean that such formulae are not meaningful. To paraphrase Feeney, it matters what adverb one puts in front of a word: not ‘merely’, but ‘distinctively’ ‘formulaic’.127 The divine formulae used on inscriptions each present different conceptualisations of a divine engagement: either in terms of a manifestation of divine presence, divine beneficence, or as a representation of divine ownership. Sometimes—for whatever reason—this recognition of general, unspecified divine power was deemed to require more specificity: in these cases then we might find a reference to a particular deity, as in the Theoi Athena Tyche heading from Pheidias’ statue accounts, or the pronouncement of divine ownership of the stele in I.Oropos 290.

  • 128 Jim (2015), p. 74. Cf. Parker (2017), p. 24–25.

51It is important to emphasise the generic, unspecific nature of the theoi/theos invocation. Specificity was crucial in the polytheistic naming system of ancient Greek religion. Yet here, we see the opposite. Part of the reason why the theoi heading has for a long time been considered unimportant is this genericness, which means it has not been taken seriously as a mode of communication with the divine. Yet this deserves to be questioned. There is not one way of naming gods, and the meaning of a god’s name varies depending on the purpose with which the god is named. A cult epithet might be used to focus attention on the relevant aspect of divine power, but if a deity is invoked without epithet, that does not mean that such an invocation is less strong or significant, or different in any other way, except for offering a different focus—namely, on the deity as a whole. For example, Theodora Jim has shown for Soteira that the use of a bare epithet (without the divinity’s name) can be “an even more intense focusing device: the function identified is so important that it obliterates, if momentarily, all other aspects of the divine figure, including name and identity”.128 If we apply the same principle to theoi and more generic invocations—seeing this as a conscious choice which suits best the purpose of the invocation for the invokee—then genericness does not have to be seen as a lessening of intensity or meaning: it rather is a device which lets know that the reference has relevance to the collectivity of the divine, that it is the divine tout court which is present, and powerful. This matters, as this presence—this inclusion of the divine on these public documents—reinforces the idea that in actual practice religion and law in ancient Greece were not considered two normative domains which existed side by side. This idea is visible also in other mechanisms—for example in the speeches of the Attic orators, or in the way in which religious deviance is sometimes punished by both human and divine sanctions—but it is present too in the stones which are the very physical embodiment of the rule of law, and of human decision-making. Paying attention to such invocation can therefore perhaps help us better understand the complex ways in which the Greeks conceptualised the relationship between their gods and the regulations and laws which they inscribed on stone.

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Notes

1 RotroffOakley (1992); Talcott (1936). Cf. Steiner (2002).

2 e.g., Agora P 30076, Agora P 5160.

3 On kalos inscriptions on Athenian pottery see Lissarrague (1999).

4 Agora P 5164. The inscription is C21 in Agora XXI = Lang (1976).

5 θεοί θερικλες
καλός
θεοί Πύχσονος
Τιμόχσενος
καλός
Χαρμίδες
καλός
Cf. 
Talcott (1936), p. 350; Lang (1976), p. 14. The third line is hard to decipher: Πύχσονος appears to be a patronymic of Therikles. Lynch (2007), p. 202 renders it as ‘son of Pichson’ but this seems unlikely: the suggestion by Lang (1976), p. 14, that it is a misspelling of Πρ⟨ά⟩ξωνος is perhaps more plausible.

6 Steiner (2002), p. 364.

7 Steiner (2002), p. 365, referencing EM 12946, which preserves the guidelines used to create the stoichedon pattern.

8 Immerwahr (1990), p. 105 n. 36.

9 Steiner (2002), p. 364–365, recognises that this parody with theoi heading is dated earlier than the earliest surviving dated occurrence of the theoi heading in Athens (445–438 BCE), but it is likely this heading was known earlier in Athens, cf. the earlier such headings found from ca. 500 on Crete: see just below.

10 Consecration formula: e.g. Larfeld (1898), p. 591. Appeal to divine favour: e.g. Harris (2004), p. 28; Thomas (2005), p. 56; Henry (1977), p. xi. Reflection of the assembly’s opening prayer: RhodesOsborne (2003), p. xix. For this prayer see Aeschin. 1.23. Of course, this is a very Athenian interpretation of a phenomenon which is found across the Greek world. Cf. also Woodhead (1981), p. 39, who sees it as “cryptically indicating that, before matter under discussion was considered and decided, the proper religious exercises had been performed or invocations made”, as followed too by McLean (2002), p. 219. Pounder (1975), p. 83–116, considers the theoi heading apotropaic in origin: he traces it back to Babylonian boundary stones which bear apotropaic curses calling upon the gods for destruction. However, this interpretation rests on a doubtful reading of the heading of one inscription: see note 62 below. Mack (2018), p. 380, offers a full list of earlier interpretations. The heading is not discussed in the collections of inscriptions found in Todd (1948) or Schwenk (1985).

11 Traywick (1968); Pounder (1975); Mack (2018).

12 There are some non-Athenian document reliefs (see e.g. Delphi Museum inv. 12675) but these are exceptions: see Lawton (1995).

13 BelaycheProst (2005), p. 18.

14 Going back to Usener’s 1896 Götternamen, interest in the naming of Greek deities as a way of accessing religious conceptions of the worshippers of those deities has been central to the study of Greek religion, even if there has been a shift in focus in recent decades from myth to ritual contexts, with particular focus on the cult epithet and onomastic sequences. See e.g. Brulé (1998); Belayche – Brulé et al. (2005); Wallensten (2008); Parker (2017), and most recently the ‘Mapping Ancient Polytheisms’ project: e.g. Bonnet et al. (2018).

15 Divine naming practices are important not only in direct addresses to gods (‘address meaning’), but also in references to them (‘referential meaning’), although this distinction is an important one to keep in mind: cf. Dickey (1996), p. 9–12. Whether headings such as theoi should be understood as a direct address or reference to the divine is one of the questions this paper attempts to answer. That these forms of address might not be easy to separate out in certain religious contexts is shown by Parker (2017), p. 1: “A dedication is perhaps halfway between these two registers: it is a direct address to the god, but there may also be concern to identify the addressee accurately.”

16 See e.g. Jim (2015); Parker (2017); Bonnet et al. (2019).

17 e.g. Haas (1996); Meier – Ott – Sauer (2015).

18 Petrovic (2018). On the materiality of epigraphic sources, see also Lissarrague (1992); Graham (2013); Lohman (2017); Meyer (2017).

19 Ma (2013), p. 40–42; Williamson (1995).

20 Hölkeskamp (1994); Osborne (1999), p. 346–348; Meyer (2013), p. 458–463. On the Athenian acropolis as publication site in particular see Liddel (2003); Lambert (2018), p. 22–23.

21 Appeal to divine protection: Osborne (1999), p. 347–348. Religious aura: Liddel (2003), p. 81. Relationship with the gods: Mack (2018), p. 378.

22 Lambert (2018), p. 22–23. See also Meyer (2013), p. 459–461, on the interpretation of inscriptions as dedications.

23 Asia Minor, Cyprus and the Italian West excluded. Numbers based on the dated inscriptions included in the Packard Humanities Institute’s Ancient Greek Inscriptions Database (https://epigraphy.packhum.org/. Accessed: April 2023). For a list of places where we find theoi headings, see Larfeld (1907), p. 436–7.

24 To give an indication of how common the theos/theoi heading becomes in the Hellenistic period, for Delphi we have about 283 such headings on inscriptions dating between 300–1 bce.

25 For the number from Athens, see Mack (2018), p. 379. The numbers for Central Greece, beside Delphi, are split up between 5 × θεός and 14 × θεοί for Megaris, Oropia and Boiotia (IG VII), 5 × θεός and 1 × θεοί for Phokis and Lokris (IG IX,1) and 2 × θεός for Thessaly.

26 e.g. Kirchner’s IG II2.

27 Pounder (1975), p. 147–148, calculated that about 18 % of decrees from Delos (5th–2nd century BCE) with upper part preserved carried a theoi heading. Mack (2018), p. 380–381, calculating the frequency among Athenian inscriptions for the period 352–229 BCE, comes to 85 % (69 theoi headings and only 12 clear absences).

28 Other early cases: IG I3 54 (from 433/2 BCE); IG I3 50 (= Agora 16.9) from ca. 435 BCe; IG I3 34 which was listed by Pounder (1975), p. 21–22 as the earliest occurrence of theoi, but now redated to 425/4 BCe or later: cf. Osborne – Rhodes (2017), p. 326–327.

29 The fragments of the accounts of the Athena Parthenos statues of which the findspot is known come from the Acropolis, where they often were re-used in later monuments: see Donnay (1967).

30 On the Pheidias statue, see Lapatin (2001), p. 63–79. On the Periklean building programme in its entirety, see Epstein (2013), p. 130–137; Shear (2016).

31 Cf. Osborne – Rhodes (2017), p. 206. Another possible reason for rejection is that the first attempt is non-stoichedon, whereas the completed version, which is stoichedon, shows this perhaps was desired or required: Austin (1938), p. 62–63.

32 IG I3 456 has only an omicron preserved: Lewis restores it as θεοί Ἀθενᾶ Τύχε, but only the θεοί is certain. Similarly, IG I3 457 reads θεοί [Ἀθεναία?] (dated to 442/1 BCE).

33 IG I3 472 from the Hephaisteion gives accounts for the statues of Athena and Hephaistos (ca. 421–416 BCE): it reads [θ]εο[].

34 Dated to ca. 437–433 BCE. IG I3 462, also part of the Propylaia accounts, has been restored in the same fashion, though no trace remains on the stone. It is possible IG I3 455 might also have included a heading, on the basis of its stoichedon layout and the available space: there are about 28 letter spaces before the γρα]μματεύ- at the end of line 2, with only ἐπὶ and the name of the grammateus expected before this.

35 Shear (2016), p. 72.

36 Osborne – Rhodes (2017), p. 206–7; Meyer (2017), p. 228, who suggests the fine preservation of the stone is a result of its display inside the temple. Lewis (1981) in IG I3 makes a similar point about IG I3 458, also part of the accounts for Pheidias’ statue.

37 Shear (2016), p. 72.

38 Austin (1938), p. 62, does not think the heading, even if a mistake, would warrant starting fresh on a new stele: “if it was not wanted it would be a simple matter to erase it.”

39 On incubation at Oropos and the Amphiareion in general, see Renberg (2016), p. 272–294; von Ehrenheim (2015). On specifically divinatory incubation at the site, see Van Hove (2019).

40 On sanctuaries as sites of display for inscriptions, see below.

41 Oropos was first settled by Eretria in Euboea, before swinging between Theban and Athenian control for much of the fifth and fourth centuries: see Cosmopoulos (2001), p. 14–16 on the chronology of the site; Knoepfler (2001), p. 367–389, for the date of Athens regaining control over Oropos in 335 BCE.

42 Of the six pre-300 BCe decrees without the heading, four have the top part preserved (I.Oropos 290, 299, 300, 370). Thus, they definitively do not include the heading. The remaining two are without a preserved top part: I.Oropos 6 (though heading has been restored, see below at note 44) and I.Oropos 302.

43 Knoepfler (2001), p. 368–391. On the proxenia institution at Oropos, see Wilding (2015).

44 I.Oropos 6 is missing its top thus the presence of a heading is not certain, although based on its stoichedon pattern of 23, Petrakos’ restoration of θεοί τύχηι ἀγαθῆι, the same heading as on I.Oropos 4 and 5, has a high degree of probability.

45 I.Oropos 5: no photograph found.

46 See the commentary on CGRN 75 (DOI: https://doi.org/10.54510/CGRN75) and further discussion below.

47 On this very unusual decree, see Scafuro (2009).

48 Petrakos (1997), p. 292 suggests the heading was spread out across the length of the stone.

49 I.Oropos 7 possibly also fits into this category.

50 Mylonopoulos (2018); Frese – Keil – Krüger (2019).

51 e.g. IG I3 61 (subject of decree and name of secretary), IG II2 20 (subject of honorary decree on the moulding under a relief).

52 On the headings and prescripts of Athenian decrees, see Henry (1977).

53 Pounder (1975), p. 22.

54 See Bodel (2001), p. 19–24, on ‘symbolic epigraphy’.

55 Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 131–132.

56 As Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 132, point out, the many erasures in the inscription record the longevity of its usage and the importance of recording changes in custom and regulation in this inscribed document.

57 Showing variety of genre: e.g. I.Thespies 38 (list of sacred property belonging to the people of Thespiai); IG I3 292 (inventory of dedications in the pronaos of the Athenian Parthenon); CID 2.37, 38 and 39 (debt repayment records concerning Phocis and Delphi).

58 Cult regulation: CGRN 14 / I.Cret. IV 65; 3 decrees: I.Cret. IV 64; 78; SEG 27.631 (the latter is possibly a private copy of a decree: see Gagarin – Perlman [2016], p. 182–183); 7 laws: I.Cret. IV 51; 72; SEG 35.991; 911b; I.Cret IV 43 (twice: two of the laws inscribed on this block commence with θιοί); SEG 27.620; 1 inter-state agreement: I.Cret IV 80; and 1 document setting free a slave: I.Cret. IV 236.

59 Mack (2018), p. 384. Of the 83 public documents, 52 are honorific decrees, 16 concern interstate relations, 11 concern specifically religious matters and 4 are laws.

60 Dedications with theoi headings: IG II2 2329 is a private dedication with theoi heading from Athens, as is Rhodes – Osborne, GHI 88 (not categorised by Mack as a dedication). Two public dedications also include the heading (IG II3 4, 29 and IG II3 4, 79). These latter two are unusual, however; they are the only prytany dedications we have which are on stelae rather than statue bases. IG II3 4, 79 is an irregular dedication by members of a prytany to Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth, following the birth of a child. IG II3 4, 29 is a prytany dedication from 348/7 BCE on a base but has on the side of the base a decree, issued by Pandionis, the winning tribe, which is the earliest example of the inclusion of a decree honouring a member of the prytany: cf. Agora 15.26. Beyond Athens, we find divine headings in the classical period on two dedications by the Athenian cleruchy on Samos to Apollo, displayed at Delphi: IG XII 6, 1, 264 and 265 (330s BCE). There are a handful of occurrences of theoi inscriptions on private texts on other objects, such as roof tiles and pottery: see Mack (2018), p. 379 n. 47, and the graffito from the Agora discussed above.

61 e.g. Mack (2018), p. 384.

62 Crete, like Athens, displays preference for the plural version of the heading, except for one intriguing exception, which also constitutes the earliest extant theos/theoi heading found on an inscribed legal document in ancient Greece: SEG 27.620, dated to ca. 650 BCE, includes θιός ολοιον just below the first line of the inscription: it appears to be a later insertion after accidental omission. Van Effenterre – Demargne (1937), p. 340 interpreted the phrase as a curse. Pounder followed this meaning but reconstructed it as θιὸς ὄλοι ὄν, ‘may god destroy him’. He based his theory of the apotropaic origin of the theoi heading on this inscription: see Pounder (1975), p. 60–71. Guarducci (1941), 20–23 interpreted the phrase as θιὸς λόϊον, ‘god is good’ (θιὸς λωῗων), but parallels for such an invocation are only found from the Hellenistic period onwards: see Gagarin – Perlman (2016), p. 202.

63 IG IX 1 (Phocis, Lokris, Aitolia, Akarnania and Ionian Islands) and IG IX 2 (covering Thessaly), have respectively 5 (pre-300 BCE) occurrences of θεός, 1 of θεοί; and 2 occurrences of θεός, none of θεοί. Pre-300 BCE inscriptions from Delphi: 39 for singular, 32 for plural.

64 This is the standard interpretation since Traywick (1969) who already rejected the old Attic for the singular dative θεῷ as candidate.

65 Pounder (1975), p. 37–38. Cf. also Mack (2018), p. 381. On the absence of a singular vocative for θεός in classical Greek, see Dickey (1996), p. 188, who notes a phonetic explanation may be possible but argues more likely is a lack of need for a singular address to the divine in this impersonal form. However, why this might be the case is unclear. Occurrences of the nominative θεός employed as vocative exist: see e.g. DVC 2653A and, for discussion, Humbert (1960), p. 252–253. Importantly, the feminine θεά is found in the vocative: see for example IG I3 608 for a fifth-century dedicatory example.

66 Not including Pounder’s apotropaic theory, for which see above, n. 62.

67 Woodhead (1981), p. 39, followed also by Chaniotis (1996), p. 84–85; Rhodes – Osborne (2003), p. xix; McLean (2002), p. 219.

68 Larfeld (1898), p. 591.

69 Henry (1977), p. xi; Harris (2004), p. 28; Thomas (2005), p. 56.

70 Mack (2018).

71 Mack (2018), p. 382.

72 Aeschin. 1.23; cf. Ath. Pol. 43.6.

73 Chaniotis (1996), p. 84–85, follows Woodhead’s interpretation of theoi as reflection of prayer. He cites an alliance treaty between Rhodes and Hierapytna (I.Cret. III iii 3, ca. 200 BCE) as further proof: the opening θεός, τύχαι ἀγαθᾶι is followed by directives to pray for blessing for the treaty, perform a sacrifice and procession, and swear an oath. Chaniotis argues that the opening invocation of theoi and the formula of blessing (tuchai agathai) stand alongside the passage concerning the prayers to be offered at the conclusion of the treaty, thus suggesting they are linked. But there is no conclusive evidence for this link—this treaty prescribed an oath ritual which includes prayer, but that does not mean every inscription which has a heading of θεός, τύχαι ἀγαθᾶι is referring to such a ritual.

74 Larfeld (1898), p. 591.

75 Meyer (2013), p. 458–459.

76 Lambert (2018), p. 23. Cf. also Bodel (2009), p. 27–28, on ‘sacred dedications’: what makes something sacred is not only the deposition in a sacred space but the intentions of those who set the dedication apart conceptually, as property of the gods.

77 Long dated to the Lycurgan period, Knoepfler (1986) convincingly redated I.Oropos 290 to 376–366 on the basis of stylistic, orthographical and contextual grounds.

78 As Wilding (2022), p. 75, argues.

79 I.Oropos 290, l. 25–28: ἐπαινέσαι δὲ τὸν ἱερέα το͂ Ἀμφιαράο Ἀντικράτη Δεκελέα δικαιοσύνης καὶ ἐπιμελείας ἕνεκα τῆ[ς] περὶ τὸ ἱερόν.

80 On the Dionysiastai and their association, see Jaccottet (2003), esp. p. 163–171 (vol. 1) and p. 20–27 (vol. 2).

81 Harris (2021), p. 29.

82 A few other laws and decrees which open with named deities in the genitive or dative: LSCG 19 (Athens, 4th century) is a phratry dossier with decrees which commences with Διὸς Φρατρίο: however, this genitive can either be taken together with the next sentence (Theodoros, son of Euphantides, priest of Zeus Phratrios: Διὸς Φρατρίο / ἱερεὺς Θεόδωρος Εὐφαντίδο) or as pronouncing the god’s ownership of the altar which the stele is said up in front of (l. 66–67: πρόσθεν το῀ βωμο῀). LSCG 154 (Cos, 3rd century) records the name of Demeter in the genitive (l. 21, 36), but this occurs before two decrees specifying purity rules for the priestesses of these Demeter cults. Both these inscriptions therefore do not suggest consecration of the stele or its inscribed document to a deity. Willey (2016), p. 202, lists other examples of decrees which open with named deities in genitive or dative, but these are not all decrees: LSS 30 is a sacrificial regulation inscribed on an altar; LSCG 113 is a regulation or sign from a private cult to Athena Patroia; LSCG 154.

83 See also the discussion of this text in Lupu (2005), p. 205–213.

84 Henry (1977), p. xi; Hedrick (1989), p. 129; Thomas (2005), p. 56.

85 Traywick (1969), p. 326–327; McLean (2002), p. 219, who argues that “the later formula agathei tychei (for good fortune) may provide a clue to its (theoi’s) meaning, suggesting the translation ‘(May the) gods (be with us)!’ ”.

86 Recent research on tyche approaches the topic rather piecemeal, with Allègre (1889) still the only monograph dedicated to the subject, although there are substantial studies in Miano (2018) and Eidinow (2011). See also Matheson (1994); Sfameni Gasparro (1997).

87 IG II3 1 445, for example, establishes Tyche has a cult and temple in Athens by 335 BCE. On the development of the cult see Tracy (1994); Sfameni Gasparro (1997), p. 83–88; Miano (2018), p. 162–165.

88 On the relationship between (the cults of) Tyche and Agathe Tyche, see Eidinow (2011), p. 48.

89 On the cult of Tyche in the Hellenistic and Roman periods, see Sfameni Gasparro (1997); Christof (2001). For the inscriptional evidence for the relationship between Agathe Tyche and Agathos Daimon, see Sfameni Gasparro (1997), p. 89–90.

90 = G64 in Gagarin – Perlman (2016).

91 In an early example in Athens it occurs as part of the εἶπε-phrase: in IG I3 40 (446/5 BCE) a proposal is presented as “for the good fortune of the Athenians” (ἀγαθε͂ι τύχει τε͂ι Ἀθεναίον).

92 In Classical Athens agathe tyche does not make it to heading but it continues to be included only in the main text of decrees: cf. Pounder (1975), p. 55–56.

93 Pounder (1975), p. 40.

94 ἐπὶ σωτηρίαι appears for example as heading in IG IX 1, 694, but mostly it is found in the body of decrees and documents such as manumission records (especially in Hellenistic Crete and Asia Minor) as part of the δεδόχθαι-phrase: e.g. I.Magnesia 100a: τύχηι ἀγαθῆι καὶ ἐπὶ σωτηρίαι τοῦ τε δήμου καὶ (….) δεδόχθαι τῆι βουλῆι καὶ τῶι δήμωι: “with good fortune and for the safety of the people and of (…) may it be decided by the council and the people (…) (l. 19–21). For further discussion of the phrase, see Chaniotis (1996), p. 83–85.

95 Cf. Mack (2018), p. 381.

96 Contra Tracy (1994), p. 243–244, who argues that the phrase agathei tychei in Attic inscriptions contained an element of personification and suggests translating it as ‘under the auspices of the Goddess of Good Fortune’.

97 Interestingly, the invocation θεοί τύχη is followed by a crowded insertion on the next line of τῆς ἐν Ἕρμηι, before the beginning of the continuous text underneath that. τῆς ἐν Ἕρμηι appears to specify the divine owner of the temenos to be leased. Jameson (1982), p. 69 suggests this might be an anonymous goddess identified by her association with the place ἐν Ἕρμηι, or a prominent local deity, perhaps Nemesis or Themis. This example illustrates again that the divine heading θεοί is not linked to particular deities referenced in the content of the inscription.

98 On the Hellenistic ‘obsession’ with cults of Fortune, see Matheson (1994).

99 Eidinow (2011), p. 144–150. On the consequences for morality of a personification of Tyche, see Dover (1974), p. 140–141.

100 F.Delphes III 1.161: θεοί. τύχα ἀγαθά (320–310 BCE); 408: [θεοί. τ]ύχη ἀγαθ[] (324/3 BCE); 412: [θ]εός. τύχ[α] (336 or 314 BCE).

101 F.Delphes III 1.420: θεοὶ τύχαν (325–275 BCE); 135: θεὸς τύχαν ἀγαθάν (318–305 BCE).

102 F.Delphes III 1.410; θεοί. ἀγαθῆι τύχη[ι] (ca. 319 BCE); 416: θεός. τύχαι ἀγαθᾶι (end 4th cent. BCE).

103 Eidinow (2011), p. 29.

104 Cf. Rhodes – Osborne (2007), p. 156–160.

105 Mack (2018), p. 382.

106 Ibid.

107 Mack (2018), p. 390. Cf. also Willey (2016), who argues the theological significance of divine invocations on inscriptions is vague by design and “may even reflect an unwillingness to proclaim a precise understanding of the exact nature of divine involvement”.

108 Mack (2018), p. 390.

109 So already Jones (1913), who collected instances of the vague use of theos. His stated aim—to investigate the growth of monotheism in Greece—shows the pointed perspective through which this singular form has often been approached in the past. Jones abandoned his aim after concluding that the unity referred to through theos/o theos “is a unity of divinity, not of personality” (255). See also François (1957) for a collection of the evidence.

110 E.g. DVC 543b, 1433a, 2229. Cf. Lhôte (2006), p. 343.

111 Cf. François (1957), p. 201–245; Mikalson (1983), p. 67ff. On Herodotus, see Harrison (2000), p. 176ff.

112 François (1957), p. 305. Cf. Rudhardt (1966), p. 356.

113 Cf. Rudhardt (1966).

114 The first reason is most common: as Parker (2011), p. 65–67 emphasises, this is the result of the limitations of human perception. Cf. also Burkert (1985), p. 272; Mikalson (1983), p. 67–73; Aubriot (2005). To designate divine power in action, daimon is especially used: see Pirenne-Delforge (2022).

115 Versnel (2011), p. 268–279.

116 Versnel (2011), p. 278.

117 Versnel (2011), p. 272.

118 Versnel (2011), p. 273.

119 As such, Versnel declares he “cannot be sure which of the two possible denotations (or if one prefers: connotations) is the dominant one in the topical opening words of official decrees in Athenian inscriptions: theoi” (Versnel [2011], p. 278). But if one looks beyond Athens and analyses theoi in connection with the singular theos, more can be said about this.

120 Versnel (2011), p. 279.

121 In arguing anonymity also equals unapproachability, however, Versnel seems to take the point too far: he asserts “anonymous hoi theoi, like Fate, are unavailable for communication or negotiation” (273), but as we saw in the previous section, Fate was at times considered approachable, as deity or divine notion, and available for negotiation in the ancient Greek world.

122 Versnel (2011), p. 273–274, discusses only negative attributions of cause, that is, post-event explanations after misfortune or disaster, but this is unnecessarily narrow.

123 Cf. Ma (2013), p. 18, who in his analysis of inscriptions on honorific statues has shown the necessity of “reading the obvious”: in trying to understand ancient texts and monuments, we need to develop “competence in what was obvious to the ancient viewer”.

124 Pirenne-Delforge (2018), p. 45–46, emphasises the significance of this presence of the gods for the very social fabric which makes up ancient Greek communities.

125 Rudhardt (1966), p. 361.

126 Rhodes – Osborne (2003), p. 157.

127 Feeney (1988), p. 41.

128 Jim (2015), p. 74. Cf. Parker (2017), p. 24–25.

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Légende Fig. 1.1. Agora P 5164.
Crédits Courtesy of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Athens City, Ancient Agora, ASCSA: Agora Excavations. © Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.).
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Légende Fig. 1.2. Drawing of Agora P 5164.
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Légende Fig. 2. Squeeze of EM 6765.
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Légende Fig. 4. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 5. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig.  6. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 7. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 8. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 9. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 10. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 11. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig. 14. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Légende Fig.  16. From V. Petrakos (1997), Οι επιγραφές του Ωρωπού, Athens, pl. 1, 2, 18, 20–25, nos. 1–4, 7, 277, 290, 292–293, 295–298.
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Rebecca Van Hove, « Gods Set in Stone: Theoi Headings on Greek Inscriptions »Kernos [En ligne], 36 | 2023, mis en ligne le 01 février 2024, consulté le 18 juin 2025. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/kernos/4557 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/kernos.4557

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