Not all the secrets left behind by ancient Egypt are buried deep within tombs or hidden behind the walls of temples. Sometimes, the greatest discoveries are found in a single sentence written on an ancient papyrus, waiting for someone to read it with a different vision. Ancient Egypt was not only a civilization of stone; it was also a civilization of words. For the ancient Egyptians, the written word was not merely a means of communication, but a powerful force capable of protecting, creating, and restoring harmony between humanity and the universe.
Among these fascinating secrets is a rare postscript attached to Spell 17 of the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead, one of the most profound religious and philosophical compositions in human history. This spell is far more than a funerary formula intended to guide the deceased into the afterlife. It is a cosmic text that explores humanity’s greatest questions: How was the universe created? What is the nature of human existence? How does order overcome chaos? And how can the soul move from the darkness of death into the eternal light?
In one Theban version of this spell, a remarkable addition appears, translated by the renowned Egyptologist Raymond Faulkner. After discussing the power of reciting the spell, the text concludes with a striking statement:
“It is a million times true; I have seen it, and it has come to pass through me.”
A short sentence—but one that carries an entire world of meaning.
Who is the voice behind these words?
Who is the person declaring: “I have seen it”?
Is it the priest who preserved the text? The scribe who copied it? Or is it a literary formula designed to give the sacred words greater authority? Whatever the answer may be, this phrase represents a rare moment in ancient Egyptian literature: a moment when sacred knowledge moves beyond inherited tradition and becomes a personal experience witnessed by an individual.
Here, across thousands of years, we hear a human voice speaking to us.
An Egyptian scribe seems to tell us that knowledge is not something merely memorized; it is something experienced. Wisdom does not reach its full meaning when it is written down—it becomes complete when it is transformed into life.
This is the essence of ancient Egyptian thought.
The Egyptians did not regard writing as simple documentation. They believed that words possessed creative power. According to Egyptian theology, the gods brought the universe into existence through divine speech, and humans could maintain their connection with the cosmic order through sacred names, prayers, and written formulas.
For this reason, the Book of the Dead was never simply a book about death. It was a book about continuity and rebirth. Death was not considered an ending, but a transition into another form of existence. The purpose of these spells was not only to protect the deceased in the afterlife, but also to restore the individual’s complete identity and enable the soul to “go forth into the day.”
This famous expression, which gave the modern title to the collection, carries a profound philosophical meaning. The “day” was not merely a period of time; it symbolized light, knowledge, renewal, and victory over darkness and chaos. To go forth into the day meant to regain existence and participate once again in the eternal cycle of the cosmos.
The rare postscript connected with Spell 17 is particularly important because it expands the role of the text. It does not present the Book of the Dead as a document reserved only for the tomb; instead, it transforms it into a source of protection and spiritual strength during life itself. The person who recites it daily is promised safety and well-being.
Here we encounter one of the central ideas of Egyptian civilization: the afterlife did not begin after death—it began with the way a person lived.
The ancient Egyptians did not separate life and death as sharply as modern societies often do. They viewed existence as one continuous journey, where human actions on earth shaped the destiny of the individual beyond death. This is why sacred knowledge was always connected with ethical behavior and with maintaining the universal balance known as Ma’at.
The condition of purity mentioned before reciting the spell also reveals a deeper understanding. Purity was not merely physical cleanliness; it represented inner preparation for approaching the sacred. Divine words required a person who was spiritually, morally, and ritually prepared.
The Egyptians understood that knowledge was not simply information—it was responsibility.
But why does this remarkable postscript appear only rarely among the surviving versions of the Book of the Dead?
The answer lies in the nature of the text itself. The Book of the Dead was not a single fixed book like modern publications. It was a flexible collection of spells that developed over many centuries. Royal manuscripts, private papyri, and priestly traditions often contained variations in wording, sequence, and additional passages.
Each papyrus, therefore, represents a unique intellectual and religious world, preserving a different expression of Egyptian beliefs about death, rebirth, and divine power.
The importance of this rare addition lies in the way it changes our understanding of ancient texts. These manuscripts were not dead documents from a forgotten past. They were living texts—read, performed, believed in, and experienced by real people.
The phrase:
“I have seen it, and it has come to pass through me”
makes us realize that the distance between us and ancient Egyptians is not as great as we often imagine. More than three thousand years ago, there was a human being searching for security, meaning, and a way to overcome the fear of the unknown. That person believed that knowledge could become a light carried through the journey of existence.
Perhaps this is why the Book of the Dead continues to fascinate us today. It is not only a book about death; it is a book about humanity itself—about fear and hope, weakness and strength, and the eternal human dream of conquering time.
This rare postscript reminds us that the greatest treasures of ancient Egypt are not only the magnificent monuments displayed in museums or carved into stone. They are also the quiet voices preserved between the lines of ancient manuscripts, waiting for someone to listen.
A voice from ancient Egypt still speaks to us after three thousand years:
“I have seen it… and it has come to pass through me.”




