of historical significance. Throughout the year, religious personnel within and others
as mediators between sanctuary and community oversaw the flow of these groups and
catered to their needs. Ultimately, their efforts were directed towards enhancing the
prosperity and popularity of the sanctuary and the community as a whole. It is not
surprising that publicly recorded cult regulations and other types of documents
relating to the administration of sanctuaries are particularly concerned with times
when orderly behavior and regulations for the handling of a multitude of people were
needed most, namely during festivals, and that they focus on ‘‘highlights’’ (good or
bad) in the past or present. As expressions of civic institutions, they represent what we
may call the ‘‘outside bureaucratic view.’’ Many other aspects of cult had to be dealt
with but were not part of this particular focus, and they may have been taken for
granted by the more frequent visitors as well as those engaged in the service of the
gods. As a consequence, they were not recorded or, if recorded, were committed to
perishable materials.
Admittedly, a mere indication of the functional structures that existed in many
sanctuaries is insufficient to enable us to envisage thousands of visitors and a multi-
tude of busy religious attendants taking part in the everyday life of any given Greek
sanctuary. Indeed, the scale and character of Greek sanctuaries varied enormously,
and so did the activities that took place in each. The quiet setting of a rural shrine is
utterly different from the buzzing noises of a religious ‘‘hub,’’ frequented by civic
officials, pilgrims, tourists, and merchants alike. A sacred area surrounding a small
altar and marked off by a low fence is as much part of the picture as the complex
infrastructure of an institution that included one or more monumental temples,
treasury buildings, and multiple structures to house guests, suppliants, shopkeepers,
and religious personnel. There is, therefore, no ‘‘typical’’ daily life of Greek sanctu-
aries. The following dilemma emerges. Details known about one sanctuary may help
our imagination when filling in the gaps regarding others, but such generalizations
may also be wrong. Even if we acknowledge that we have to tell multiple stories, we
may not be able to tell a story about any single sanctuary, let alone a complete one.
Where weareable to tell a fairly elaborated story, the case may be exceptional.
Regardless of this dilemma, the soundest approach to the topic has to be the study
of exceptionally well documented sanctuaries, enhanced by parallel evidence that in
all likelihood applies to the chosen examples. According to the credo expressed above,
‘‘exceptionally documented’’ does not necessarily mean ‘‘exceptional.’’
Whether there were official ‘‘journals’’ or not, the worship of Asclepius is better
documented than that of any other deity in the Greek world with regard to everyday
activities. Whereas it is generally true that ‘‘the mortal individual is a habitual
absentee from the study of Greek religion’’ (Parker 1996:185), the world of Asclepius
yields tremendous insight in this respect. The reasons for this may lie in the close
affective relationship between Asclepius and his worshipers and certainly have to do
with the formal procedures of the act of ‘‘divine healing.’’ However, neither this
relationship nor the framework within which it manifested itself are untypical for
Greek religious practice and ‘‘religiosity’’ (Pleket 1991:154). From the late sixth
century onwards, the cult of Asclepius spread rapidly in the Greek world. Often,
sanctuaries were established within a precinct previously dedicated to Apollo, and
often it quickly transformed from a small private foundation into a prominent public
cult. At Epidaurus, which successfully claimed to be the birthplace of the god and
A Day in the Life of a Greek Sanctuary 165