Plutarch, On Isis and Osiris, 26.361b:
Instructions for the Netherworld: The Orphic Gold Tablets (Brill, 2008), Alberto Bernabé Pajares, Ana Isabel Jiménez San Cristóbal:
"The sons of gods who have become poets and prophets of the gods" are obviously Orpheus, Musaeus, and other poets like them. Plato seems to imply that these poets and their followers (the Orpheotelests) promise liberation from the punishments of Hades without any other prerequisite than the celebration of specific practices... the promise of a better fate after death, and the differentiation between initiates and non-initiates are also characteristic of the mysteries of Dionysus.
So even Plato and his followers seem to have thought of some of the demigods or "sons of gods" as being liberators and bringers of gifts from the higher gods. In other words, they were something like mediators between humanity and the gods.
One demigod in particular became a model for the Stoics and Cynics.
“Heracles and Christ: Heracles Imagery in the Christology of Early Christianity” by David Aune in Greeks, Romans, and Christians: Essays in Honor of Abraham J. Malherbe, Edited by David L. Balch (Fortress Press, 1995):
"Deification for merit was a Stoic topos,” and one that cohered with a Euhemeristic interpretation: “Human experience moreover and general custom have made it a practice to confer the deification of renown and gratitude upon distinguished benefactors. This is the origin of Hercules, of Castor and Pollux, of Aesculapius, and also of Liber [= Dionysus]” (Cicero De nat. deor. 2.24.62; trans. Rackham in LCL)...
Like Heracles, the Cynic lived simply and endured pain and suffering in order to be liberated from the constraints of physical life. Cynics proclaimed this message of liberation to all who would listen. When Dio Chrysostom describes the exile of the Cynic sage Diogenes from Sinope, he has Diogenes describe his hunger, thirst, and poverty and then describes the labors of Heracles. The audience would naturally see the implicit comparison with Dio’s own experience of exile by Domitian (Or. 8). The Cynic emphasis on “frank speech,” is a characteristic also found in Heracles (Philo Quod omn. prob. 99, with a citation from Euripides). Heracles, though at one time a slave of Syleus, also acted as if he were free, and even acted as if he were the master of Syleus (100-104). Philo compares the Xanthians to Heracles: “Now these to escape the merciless cruelty of tyrannical enemies chose death with honour in preference to an inglorious life, but others whom the circumstances of their lot permitted to live, endured in patience, imitating the courage of Heracles, who proved himself superior to the tasks imposed by Eurystheus” (120; trans. Colson in LCL). Begging was approved by Cynics so that the proceeds could be used to do the sort of things Heracles did (Ps.-Diogenes Ep. 10.1 [Hercher, Epistolog. Graec. p. 238]). Cynics were encouraged to see parallels between themselves and Heracles: “But as for you, consider the ragged cloak to be a lion’s skin, the staff a club, and the wallet land and sea, from which you are fed. For thus would the spirit of Heracles, mightier than every turn of fortune, stir in you” ( Ep. 26 [Hercher, p. 241]; trans. Malherbe)...
Cynics and Stoics alike used Heracles as a symbol for the human desire to achieve final peace and reward after great toil... Antisthenes was a prolific writer who wrote three or four lost treatises on Heracles that probably depicted the hero as an example of the Cynic emphasis on mastering human frailties. He perhaps continued the allegorical treatment of Heracles found in the writings of such Sophists as Herodorus and Prodicus. Prodicus had earlier produced an epideictic speech entitled “The Training of Heracles by Virtue” (Xenophon Mem. 2.1.34), in which the hero’s education in virtue was presented as an allegorical story of a choice between two roads, the path of virtue or the path of vice (2.1.21-33)... Heracles, Odysseus, Socrates, and Musonius Rufus were widely tauted as moral examples (Origen C. Cels. 3.66). Those who died a noble death—Heracles, Asclepius, and Orpheus—were also held in high esteem (7.53).
Cynic propaganda concerning Heracles had several objectives. First, it attacked the traditional view of Heracles as suffering against his will (Sophocles Trachiniae; Euripides Hercules Furens), though voluntary suffering was acceptable (Dio Chrys. Or. 8.35; Epictetus 3.22.57; 3.26.31). Second, it attacked the popular conception of Heracles as a muscle-bound moron, athlete, glutton, and boor (as he was depicted in comedy, satyr plays, and Euripides’ Alcestis ). Third, Heracles is understood from an individual ethical point of view, with divine sonship referring to proper moral training (Dio Chrys. Or. 4.29, 31; Diogenes Laertius 6.70-71)...
Several such christological traditions in Hebrews exhibit themes and motifs that are associated with ancient conceptions of Heracles. Two of the central christological metaphors of Hebrews are son and high priest. The author sometimes uses the title Son of God when speaking of Jesus as a preexistent divine being (1:2), but at other times he suggests that Jesus became the Son of God at the end of his earthly career (1:4—5; 2:9; 5:5; 6:20; 7:28). The Stoic philosopher Cornutus, in the first century A.D., describes Heracles as “the Logos permeating everything, giving nature its force and cohesion.” Seneca, a contemporary of Cornutus, claims that God, the divina ratio who is the author of the world, can be called by many names, including Heracles (De beneficiis 4.7.1-8.1). Seneca, who wrote two tragedies with the “historical” Heracles as the protagonist (Hercules Furens and Hercules Oetaeus), thus puts himself in the position of implying a kind of doctrine of incarnation for Heracles.
Now on the Platonic logos/demiurge:
We Are Being Transformed: Deification in Paul’s Soteriology (Walter de Gruyter, 2012), M. David Litwa:
Paul’s picture of the divine world, I would argue, is another variant of the graded divinity paradigm. He acknowledges a transcendent deity “from whom” everything exists and a mediate deity “through whom” everything exists (1 Cor 8:6). He envisions, in other words, a Prime Mediate demiurgic deity—Christ—and a primal God called “the Father.”...
Although in classical formulations of Plato’s anthropology the soul is tripartite, a basic dividing line still appears between the higher and lower parts of the self. It is the mind (located in the head) which controls both the “spirited” and “desiring” parts (located in the chest and belly, respectively). In the interpretation of the Middle Platonist Plutarch,
"The human soul, since it is a portion or a copy of the soul of the universe and is joined together on principles and in proportions corresponding to those which govern the universe, is not simple … but has as one part the intelligent and rational, whose natural duty it is to govern and rule the individual, and as another part the passionate and irrational, the variable and disorderly, which has need of a director. This second part is again subdivided into two parts, one of which, by nature ever willing to consort with the body and to serve the body, is called the desiring; the other, which sometimes joins forces with this part and sometimes lends strength and vigor to reason, is called the spirited part. And Plato shows this difference chiefly by the opposition of the reasoning and intelligible part to the desiring and spirited part, since it is by the very fact that these last are different that they are frequently disobedient and quarrel with the better part." (Virt. mor. 3 [Mor. 441e-442a]; cf. Philo, Leg.1.69 – 70)
Perhaps the most famous image of the tripartite soul functioning in a dualistic way is the image of the charioteer. In brief, the “spirited” and “desiring part” are depicted as two horses, and both are reined in by the charioteer or mind (Phaedr. 246a-254e; cf. Philo, Leg. 3.118, 127 – 28, 138). The spirited and desiring parts are essentially related to the needs and urges of the body, whereas the rational mind alone can transcend this mortal life, catching a glimpse of transcendent Beauty. So even though the parts are three, the deep structure of Platonic anthropology posits a basic dualism between (1) the parts of the self interwoven with the body and its desires, and (2) the mind which can (with practice and good breeding) transcend the lower (bodily) self. As Plato writes in the Laws:
"There are two elements that make up the whole of every person. One is strong and superior, and acts as master; the other, which is weaker and inferior, is a slave; and so a person must always respect the master in him in preference to the slave." (726a3 – 6; trans. Trevor J. Saunders, modified)
It is natural for the mind to rule because it is superior and divine. When the mind does not rule, the soul is mastered by the passions... The overall goal of practicing virtue is not, however, simply self-mastery. It is self-transcendence. The ultimate goal, in other words, is to transcend the lower, false self. Justice is the chief virtue which produces self-transcendence, freeing the mind from slavery to the passions and lusts, and thus molding it for a higher divine life. The mind does not spend all its time controlling heart and belly. When the passions are tamed, the mind can soar above them. The roots of the mind are in heaven. That is, the mind (or soul) is thought of as having kinship with the divine. This idea is pervasive in Plato, and nicely illustrated in the following passage:
"It is necessary to think about the most sovereign form of our soul in this way, namely that God has given it as a daimon to each person. We say, first, that this [daimon] dwells in the top part of our bodies; and secondly that it lifts us up away from earth and toward our kinsfolk [or kind] in heaven. We declare most rightly that we are a plant not earthly but celestial." (Tim. 90a)
In this text, the highest part of the human self is not even properly human, but daimonic. This is the part of the self that is directly connected to the divine by a kind of kinship... The mind as akin to the divine becomes a fairly standard idea in first-century Stoic and Platonic philosophy. Philo writes that “every person, in respect to the mind, is allied to the divine Reason [or the divine Logos], having come into being as a copy or fragment or effulgence of that blessed nature” (Opif. 146; cf. 135; Leg. 3.161). Seneca says that the only difference between divine and human nature is that in humans the “better part” (melior pars) is mind (animus), whereas God only has “the better part.” He is all mind (totus est ratio) (Nat Q. Pref. §14; cf. Epict., Diatr. 1.12.26; 1.14.11). Stoics conceived of God as pure, immanent mind or Reason. Platonists liked to distinguish the primal unknowable and transcendent God from a mediate divinity who is or expresses God’s mind, such as the Logos (who often has demiurgic functions). Assimilation to God thus does not compromise (the high) God’s transcendence, because it is conceived of as assimilation to the mediate God, or the Logos.
For both Platonists and later Stoics, the goal of the virtuous life is the persistent approximation of this divine Mind... In a passage we have already seen before, but well worth emphasizing, Plutarch says that the souls of virtuous human beings
"ascend from men to heroes, from heroes to demi-gods, and from demigods, after they have been made pure and holy, as in the final rites of initiation, and have freed themselves from mortality and sense, to Gods, not by civic law, but in very truth and according to right reason, thus achieving the fairest and most blessed consummation." (Rom. 28.6 – 8; cf. Def. Orac. 10 [Mor. 415a-c])
Here we are clearly talking about post-mortem deification. Although self-transcendence through virtue belongs partly to this life, the “most blessed consummation” occurs when one has left the body behind. It occurs when the mind (or self) becomes so purified that it becomes (a) God.
Do Paul’s ethics at all resemble the ethics of deifying virtue in Stoic and Platonic philosophy? On first blush, Paul does not present a theory of deifying virtue (or of virtue at all). That is, he does not present mind, the rational faculty, as naturally divine and thus the key to self-transcendence and deification. Upon further reflection, however, Paul does preach his own “technology of the self” enabling self-transcendence. In his version, however, the divine is not naturally within, but comes from outside and begins to control the passions of the lower self. “We have,” says Paul, “the mind of Christ” (1 Cor 2:16). He means, if I can interpret the saying, that the pneuma of Christ has come into the self of believers and functions much as the naturally divine mind in the Platonic and Stoic systems of thought. It functions, that is, as a higher self which controls and transcends the lower self...
In popular Platonism and Stoicism, the mind is the divine part of the self ruling over the non-divine part. Stoics called the mind a “fragment of God” (Epict., Diatr. 1.14.6; 2.8.2), or the “God within” (Sen., Ep. 41.1). Philo is willing to maintain this terminology to express his Jewish understanding of humans in the image of God (e. g., Opif. 146; Det. 86 – 87, 90). My point, however, is not that the infused divine pneuma and the innate divine mind are the same thing in Pauline and popular Stoic ethics. Rather, I argue that they have a similar function. Both Christ’s divine pneuma and the naturally divine mind, that is, control and eventually transcend the lower self (the passions and desires).
From Stoicism to Platonism: The Development of Philosophy, 100 BCE–100 CE (Cambridge University Press, 2017):
Thus, in this context, the divinity humans are supposed to imitate and follow is none other than the Demiurge from the Timaeus in his relational aspect (550D–E). It is now this god who sets himself up as a paradigm for human virtue or excellence. Expanding on the point made in the Timaeus that the Demiurge, who is good, wanted everything to be like himself as much as possible (29e), Plutarch states that in his act of ordering disorderly nature into a kosmos, he made the world resemble and participate in the form and excellence or virtue that pertain to him, not merely to the paradigm of Being. Humans are meant to order their souls by observing and imitating the orderliness of the heavenly bodies, as the Timaeus in fact does claim (see earlier). But in doing so they also imitate the beauty and goodness of the Demiurge who orders the world, Plutarch states, and in this crucial respect the passage goes beyond the Timaeus. Plato does not set the Demiurge up as a model to be followed by human beings, and he does not apply the language of justice to the Demiurge’s relation with the kosmos as such (even though the Demiurge in his speech does reveal the “laws of fate,” 41e)
Gaining Virtue Gaining Christ: Moral Development in Paul's Letters (Brown University, 2014), Laura B. Dingeldein :
It may also be that part of Paul’s attraction to Middle Platonic philosophical concepts comes from the Middle Platonic conception of the divine. Whereas the Stoics conceive of something like a pantheistic God who is one and the same as Nature and Reason, and the Epicureans conceive of gods who, in their supreme blessed and happy states, have nothing to do with mortal affairs, the Middle Platonists conceive of a supreme God who is wholly transcendent and an intermediate God who is concerned with human affairs. This Middle Platonic conception of the divine in many ways maps well onto Paul’s notion of the God of Israel and his son, Jesus Christ...
Both Paul and the Middle Platonists write of progress in virtue (rather than progress toward virtue, as the Stoics aver). Both Paul and the Middle Platonists also partially attribute vice and sin to the fleshly condition of humans. Paul and the Middle Platonists consider the moderation of corrupt emotions and desires as a necessary step in moral progress, and it appears that Paul might also follow the Middle Platonists in considering eradication (for Paul, crucifixion) of the corrupt emotions and desires as something achieved by the most virtuous of humans. Perhaps most importantly, both Paul and Middle Platonists conceive of the end goal of moral progress as assimilation to the divine. For Middle Platonists, this means that humans must undergo an ontological change that results in them becoming like the mediating, second God. For Paul, this means that humans must undergo an ontological change that entails a transformation of their bodies and minds into that which resembles the body and mind bestowed by God upon son, Jesus Christ... it is highly likely that the alignment between Paul’s thought and Middle Platonic ideas is also related to the similarities between Paul’s conception of the God of Israel and Middle Platonists’ ideas about the Supreme One: both High Gods are wholly other and transcendent, and this necessarily informs the way in which divine assimilation is conceived.
So Paul and the Middle Platonists both have a mediating figure that acts as a model. For Paul it's Jesus, and for Middle Platonist it's the Logos/demiurge. For early Christians Jesus becomes something comparable to the Greco-Roman divine mediators (such as the heroes/demigods and mystery cult saviors who undergo some kind of suffering, death, and resurrection/rebirth and become models for their followers) and the Middle Platonic Logos/demiurge who mediates between god and humans.
I've already shown that Stoics and Cynics seem to have looked to Heracles as a model and even associated him with the logos.
"The Worship of Jesus and the Imperial Cult", Adela Yarbro Collins in The Jewish Roots of Christological Monotheism (Brill, 1999):
Romanising Oriental Gods: Myth, Salvation, and Ethics in the Cults of Cybele, Isis, and Mithras (Brill, 2008), Jaime Alvar:
It is typical of the gods of the oriental cults that they have some experience of human existence characterised by direct contact with death. Some indeed suffered it themselves, which would be unthinkable for the Olympian gods, whose manifold experiences do not include their own deaths... Moreover, the mystery gods’ direct experience of death is fundamental to what they were subsequently able to achieve: life can triumph only because they have gained immortality. Death brings them close to human beings, while the rebirth they offer has a grandeur about it unattainable by the traditional gods of the Graeco-Roman pantheon... In my view, however, the triumph over Fate remains a constant; and, from a certain point in the High Empire, salvation in the other world came to be a deep conviction shared among many of the adherents of the oriental cults. The main reason for thinking this is that their central rituals, to which I shall later devote more particular attention, are in fact initiatory, and were replete with the symbolism of death and resurrection. Since this symbolism is so transparent, it seems perverse to deny the centrality of the belief in these cults.
Of course, it is not merely the fact that they have lived that defines these gods as mystery-divinities. There can be nothing more anthropomorphic than the Homeric gods, with their enviable vices and virtues. However the most striking peculiarity of those traditional deities was that they had no share in one of the most private of human experiences, death. They were immortal. By contrast, the gods of the oriental cults shared with their adherents in one way or another the ultimate rite of passage, the transition from being to not-being. Thanks to this experience they acquired a special claim to be able to attend to the problems, anxieties and needs of human beings, so much so that these concerns are to all appearances the main preoccupations of the divine world. This was certainly the case in the first three centuries AD.
It's interesting that Plutarch describes both Osiris and Dionysus as the Logos.
The Gospel of Thomas and Plato: A Study of the Impact of Platonism on the Fifth Gospel (Brill, 2018), Ivan Miroshnikov:
The double role of Plutarch's Osiris is determined by his intermediary status: in order to act as an intermediary between the transcendent God and the world, he needs to participate in both transcendence and immanence. The very same double role is ascribed to Logos in Philo: according to Mos. 2.127, the cosmic Logos deals with both "the incorporeal and paradigmatic forms" and the visible objects that imitate these forms. The fact that Philo's Logos and Plutarch's Osiris are functionally identical and that Osiris can also be called Logos demonstrates that Philo's philosophy of Logos was part of a larger Middle Platonist tradition and that this tradition as a whole should be recognized as a possible background for the Johannine Logos
Defining Orphism: The Beliefs, the ›teletae‹ and the Writings, (Walter de Gruyter, 2020), Anthi Chrysanthou:
"The more enlightened, however, concealing from the masses the transformation into fire, call him Dionysus Apollo because of his solitary state, and Phoebus because of his purity and stainlessness. And as for his turning into winds and water, earth and stars, and into the generations of plants and animals, and his adoption of such guises, they speak in a deceptive way of what he undergoes in his transformation as a tearing apart as it were, and a dismemberment. They give him the names of Dionysus, Zagreus, Nyctelius, and Isodaetes; they construct destructions and disappearances, followed by returns to life and regenerations – riddles and fabulous tales quite in keeping with the aforesaid transformations. To this god they also sing the dithyrambic strains laden with emotion and with a transformation that includes a certain wandering and dispersion." (Plutarch, De E apud Delphos, 388f-389a)
In this passage Plutarch says that Zagreus’ dismemberment is an allegorical representation of creation through the flowing of the light/aether throughout the cosmos... According to Plutarch, this dismemberment is recreated during transformative rites accompanied by the dithyramb.
Continued below