This chapter investigates instances of personal divination in the ancient Greek world. This includes the use of oracles, omens, forms of technical divination and the occurrence of prophetic dreams in personal matters that do not articulate the concerns of the polis. The chapter explores what personal issues warranted a consultation of the gods, as well as the scope and limits for individuals to use the divinatory system to their advantage. The chapter shows that consultation with the gods about questions of personal concern (about health, travel and questions of everyday life) was not merely available to the upper classes and those in power, but conducted by everyday people, including women, metics and slaves. Throughout, the chapter carefully distinguishes between what we know about actual personal oracle consultations on the one hand, and their representation in works of literature on the other. At the same time, the chapter presents several themes that run through different kinds of evidence and explores what they reveal about the use and abuse of divine knowledge (and the actions it is made to sanction) in the ancient Greek world.

Old Comedy was performed at polis festivals by a citizen chorus but depicted non-elite individuals pursuing their personal goals by personal means, including their personal interactions with the divine. Since its characters are individual community members, comedy is uniquely suited to reflecting and exploring the relationship between polis and personal religion. Although many of the personal religious practices in comedy can be interpreted as comically incongruous, this is part of the genre’s characteristic transformation of lofty to low and civic to personal. The chapter shows that comedy does not merely depict but enacts personal religion. It glances briefly at oikos religion, philosophical religion, and foreign/non-established cults before focusing on personal divination, sacrifice, prayer, and religious practices relating to love and sex. A final section examines how comedy sometimes elevates personal religion to a polis level and sometimes reduces polis religion to a personal level. In all cases, a complex interrelationship of polis and personal religion becomes evident, but never one in which the latter is merely a subset of the former.

Unlike any other ancient author, the philosopher and priest of Apollo at Delphi discussed all aspects of religious tradition, praxis, and even personal piety. He talks about religion more or less in all parts of his oeuvre, either in connection with philosophy, history, music and the household, or with myths, symbols, and rituals. He deals with personal religion both as a historian and from the perspective of the experiences of personal life – as a biographer of illustrious Greeks and Romans, as a priest and initiate, and as a husband and father. Several of the speakers in his dialogues talk about religious matters on a personal level, and the author also expresses his views on the importance of religion for the individual in his own voice in works such as On Isis and Osiris, That Epicurus Actually Makes a Pleasant Life Impossible, or the Consolation to His Wife. Once the religious perspective is recognized not only as a general trait of Plutarch’s thought, but also as an aspect of his philosophy as an ars vitae, it becomes visible across the whole of his oeuvre.

Despite the importance of the household in Greek societies, ‘household religion’ has often dropped out of sight in the traditional scholarly dichotomy dividing religious activities into ‘civic’ and ‘individual’. Drawing upon material cultural and textual evidence, this chapter investigates personal religious activities performed by households and by individuals on their behalf. The chapter shows that much personalised household religious activity took place in community sanctuaries. Votive objects dedicated in sanctuaries provide key evidence for religious acts performed by households and individuals on behalf of households and families. Ritual activity in the form of ‘saucer pyres’ in Athens and Attica, often in areas of industrial, craft or commercial activities which were associated with house space, also demonstrates a wide range of personalisation and variety which may be aimed at protecting household-based groups from malevolent supernatural forces. Exploring the large and varied source of evidence for household religious activity reveals that households and families, as key social units, constructed their own personalized religious activities beyond ‘civic’ or ‘individual’.

The notion that curse tablets were used to cause harm whereas amulets were used to provide protection is a misleading oversimplification. Curse tablets have often been removed from the category of religion and consigned to the illusive one of magic. However, the existence of those tablets designated as prayers for justice illustrates that the desires which drove curse tablet creation were varied. To ascertain to what extent the use of curse tablets and amulets fitted in with polis religion, different aspects of them are examined, such as the ritualistic nature of their creation, their use of formulaic inscriptions and evidence for their use, or lack of use, of reciprocity. Examples of amulets and curse tablets are presented from the fourth century BCE through to the second century CE and from a large geographical scope. Examples from across the Greek world illustrate a paradoxical unity and sense of religious community amongst those who engaged in these practices. The incredibly personal nature of the inscriptions on curse tablets and the wearing of amulets provides an insight into Greek religious practice at an individual level.

This chapter explores personal religion in some of Plato’s dialogues. First, focusing on the Apology and Euthyphro, it considers Socrates’ daimonic sign and how far Socrates expresses religious attitudes independent from, in line with, or opposed to those foregrounded or sanctioned in Athens. Second, it turns to Plato’s Laws and examines the Stranger’s vision for civic religion in the imagined city of Magnesia and his prohibitions of private worship. Finally, it considers how philosophical inquiry can itself constitute personal religion. Overall, it argues that Plato does not evince a single attitude towards all the phenomena we might classify as personal religion. That the Stranger outlaws some central aspects of personal religion does not mean that he proscribes all others; we should resist the old idea that Socrates would have fallen afoul of Magnesia’s laws. While the Stranger excludes a culture of free speech of which the Socrates of the early dialogues avails himself, Magnesia is not Athens. For Plato, how far expressions of personal religion should be countenanced, regulated, or proscribed by the city turns on the nature of the city in which that question is raised.

This chapter highlights the dual function of theōria– the practice of travelling to witness extraordinary spectacles – as a communal activity and a deeply personal religious experience. Using the festival of the Theoxenia as a case study, this chapter explores the personal and shared experiences of the performers of Pindar’s Sixth Paean; these include awe, belonging, and cooperation – emotions vital to the festival’s success and born of rigorous training in complex choreographic routines. Furthermore, this chapter posits that choral poetry and performance are intrinsically linked, as the structure of poetry supports dancers’ coordination and learning. The resulting profound awe among performers and spectators is not only a testament to human collaboration but also prepares participants for divine encounters. Ultimately, the personal experiences in these festivals underscore the importance of individual emotional journeys in achieving successful communal rites. These individual accounts reveal how personal examination and preparation for divine interaction enhance the collective experience and highlight the transformative power of theōria on those who learn to dance together.

This opening chapter sets out the framework for a more systematic discussion of ancient Greek personal religion in the subsequent chapters. It starts from a working definition of personal religion by clarifying its relationship to the much better documented civic dimension of ancient Greek religion. Its core consists of a substantial historiographic section that grounds the study of personal religion in the larger trends that have shaped and continue to shape the study of the religions of the ancient world – including parallel developments in the study of Roman religion. Taking stock of where we stand helps us to sketch out what is at stake in foregrounding individual religious beliefs and practices and how they fit into our understanding of ancient Greek religion more broadly conceived.

This chapter explores the personal dimension of Greek religion through the archaeological evidence for votives in Archaic and Classical Greece. Dedications serve as a prime example of how ancient worship could simultaneously be personal, civic, individual and collective. They point to how these aspects can and should be studied together to achieve a more comprehensive understanding of how people communicated with the gods. Traditionally, small dedications have been more closely associated with the individual, while large dedications (e.g. statues) are frequently studied as civic monuments. Through two case studies – textile dedications at Brauron and korai on the Acropolis – the chapter breaks down these divides. We consider the varying ways in which we can define ‘personal’ in relation to different types of dedications and in relation to different aspects of the dedicatory act. Using a combination of embodied, sensorial, emotional, theological and experiential perspectives, the chapter shows how worshippers used dedications to negotiate the relationship between personal engagement with the divine and their understanding of the communal aspects of religion.

This chapter examines epiphany and its place in personal religion by focusing on narratives that feature Athena as the epiphanic deity across different periods, locales, and media. In all cases, Athena is construed as engaging closely with personal requests and concerns of particularly diverse nature from military excellence and political dominance to enhancement of socio-religious capital, and, perhaps more surprisingly, health. Athena’s epiphanies have thus been identified as particularly pertinent for our purposes, as they highlight the grey area that oscillates between personal and poliadic spheres of religious action, thus allowing us to witness the close and complex correlations between the two. Even if the two spheres draw from a common stock of religious schemata and behaviours, contrasting them reveals a wealth of useful information about how personal religious appropriation and innovation are situated in relation to more established forms or expressions of poliadic religious action. Above all, this contrast shows how even groundbreaking religious innovations needed to be anchored properly in easily recognisable, time-tested, and well-established religious schemata.

Ancient views of magic were extremely diverse. In order to examine the issue of personal religion this chapter sets out to bracket the over-familiar negative discourse, which sought to represent magic as the opposite of (true) religion, and shift the discussion to include the perspectives of actual practitioners. Of the many different types of historical practitioner, three are selected for longer discussion: ‘wise folk’, specifically ‘rootcutters’ (rhizotomists); the Hellenistic ‘Magian’ tradition ascribed to pseudonymous authors such as Persian Zoroaster; and the so-called magical papyri from Roman Egypt. Rhizotomists used ritualisation as their primary means of empowerment, with a clear sense of the divine origin of the potency of herbs. Drawing on this tradition, the Magian writers linked it to the materials made available through translation of the knowledge stored in Babylonian and Egyptian temples to create a sense of the inexhaustible powers of divine Nature. Ritual expertise and theological knowledge are most evidently in play in the hundreds of procedures included in the surviving Graeco-Egyptian magical papyri, exemplified here by the case of PGM IV 1496–1595.