Emperor Septimus Severus

The origin of "Abraxas" is debated, with theories tracing it to Coptic or Egyptian roots meaning "hurt me not" or "Father." Godfrey Higgins suggested a Celtic origin from "Ahra" (God) and "cad" (holy). The term likely evolved through Gnostic usage, possibly derived from or corrupted from earlier sacred names.

Godfrey Iliggins says it is from Ahra or Ahar "God", in Celtic, and cad "holy"; it was used as a charm, and engraved on Knmcas as an amulet, [w.w.w.] 4 THKOSorilliAI. CuHlfrcy lIi<:<,Miis was nearly i-i^lit. as tlic word " Abracaclal)ra" is a later eorriiptiun of the sacred Gnostic term "Abrasax", the hitter itself beinj; a still earlier corruption of a sacred and ancient Coptic or Egyptian word : a nia<ric formula which meant in its symbolism "llurt me not", and addressed tile deity in its hierofjlyphics as "Father". It was generally attached to an amulet or charm and worn as a Tdi ((/.v.), on the breast untler the garments. Abraxas or Abrasax (Gn.). Mystic words which have been traci'd as far hack as liasilitles, the Pythagorean, of Alexandria, a.d. 90. Me uses Abraxas as a title for Divinity, the supreme of Seven, and as having 365 virtues. In Greek numeration, a. i, h. 2, r. 100, a. i, x. 60, a. I, .S-. 200=365, days of the year, solar year, a cycle of divine action. ('. "W. King, author of Tin Gnosfics, considers the word similar to the Hebrew Shi ))ih(nnj)}i()nisch, a holy word, the extended name of God. An Abraxas Gem usually shows a nuiii's l)ody with the head of a cock, one arm with a siiield, the other with a whij). [w.w.w.] Abraxas is the counterpart of the Hindu Abhimanim {q.v.) and Brahma combined. It is these compound and mystic qualities which caused Oliver, the great .Masonic autliority. to connect the name of Abraxas with that of Abraham. This was unwarrantable ; the virtues and attril)utes of Abraxas, which are 365 in number, ought to have shown liira that the deity was connected with the Sun and solar division of the year — nay, that Abraxas is the antitype, and the Sun, the type.

The word Abraxas, a sigil of Gnostic antiquity, arrives to us not merely as an arcane syllable but as a potent mnemonic for a universe perceived as alive and divinely animated. Blavatsky, drawing from scholars like Godfrey Higgins and W.W. King, points to its potential roots in ancient languages, suggesting a primal invocation for protection, a plea to the "Father" to "hurt me not." This echoes the human impulse to find solace and efficacy in sacred utterance, a practice as old as consciousness itself.

What captivates about Abraxas is its direct linkage to the solar year, its 365 virtues mirroring the days that chart our terrestrial journey. This is not a static deity but one whose power unfolds in rhythm with the cosmos. Mircea Eliade, in his profound explorations of the sacred and the profane, would recognize this as a manifestation of the eternal return, where the divine order is not imposed from without but is the very pulse of existence. The Gnostics, in their quest for gnosis, sought to understand these divine cycles, to align themselves with the cosmic clockwork.

The imagery associated with Abraxas gems—a hybrid being, perhaps a fusion of human, animal, and divine—speaks to a holistic worldview where boundaries between different orders of being are fluid. Carl Jung’s work on archetypes and the collective unconscious would find fertile ground here, seeing Abraxas as a potent symbol of the Self, encompassing the totality of psychological and spiritual experience, a manifestation of the unconscious striving for wholeness. The amulet, worn close to the body, becomes a personal conduit to this cosmic intelligence, a reminder that the divine is not distant but intimately present, woven into the very rhythm of our breath and the turning of the seasons.

To contemplate Abraxas today is to engage with a pre-modern sensibility that saw the universe not as a sterile mechanism but as a vibrant, interconnected web of divine energies. It invites us to consider the power of symbolic language, the efficacy of sacred objects, and the perennial human desire to align oneself with forces greater than the individual self. It suggests that understanding the cosmic dance may be a path to inner peace, a way to feel oneself not as a solitary atom but as an integral note in the grand symphony of creation. In a world often characterized by fragmentation and a sense of cosmic indifference, Abraxas offers a glimpse into a universe that is, at its core, imbued with divine purpose and cyclical renewal.