CHAPTER IV
SACRED RITES AND PRACTICES
General Inferences.—That the old places of cult had their duly ordained officials may be taken for granted; even the smallest of them, like those of to-day, must have had appointed attendants. The Amarna letters mention the wealthy temple of Byblos with the handmaidens of the goddess of the city, and in Merneptah's reign we hear of a man of Gaza who is described as a servant of Baal. We may be sure, also, that the rites and festivals were similar to those usually prevalent among agricultural peoples. The nature-worship of the age can be realised from a survey of the old cults of Western Asia, and from the denunciations of the Old Testament, which prove the persistence of older licentious rites. Popular religion often continues to tolerate practices which social life condemns, and the fertility of crops, cattle, and of man himself, was co-ordinated by an uncontrollable use of analogy in which the example was set by the 'sacred' men and women of the sanctuaries (kādesh; Deut. xxiii. 17, R.V. marg.). Sympathetic magic—the imitation of the cause to produce a desired effect—underlay a variety of rites among a people whose life depended upon the gifts of the soil, whose religion was a way of life. Here, however, we are restricted chiefly to some miscellaneous evidence which the excavations suggest.
The Disposal of the Dead.—Incineration or cremation had been originally practised by a people physically distinct from that among whom inhumation prevailed. The latter innovation has been ascribed to the invading Semites. Subsequently, in Carthage, cremation is found to re-enter, presumably through foreign influence; but the two practices co-exist, even in the same family, and it is probable that there, at all events, cremation was only followed in special circumstances. A large burial-cave at Gezer with a thick layer of burnt ash proves the lengthy duration of the earlier custom. The same cave was afterwards utilised by those who inhumed their dead, and thenceforth there is little evolution in the history of early Palestinian burial. No particular orientation predominates; the dead are placed upon a layer of stones, or within cists, or in pits in the floor of the caverns. Both the contracted or squatting and the outstretched attitude occur. From the story of Sinuhe (p. [9]), it would seem that burial in a sheep-skin was also customary. The needs of the dead are supplied by vessels of food, which occasionally show traces of burning; drink was more important, and the large jars sometimes contain small cups for the convenience of the thirsty soul. In the case of a jug with two mammillary projections one is reminded of a type usually associated at Carthage with the burial of infants. A variety of miscellaneous objects provided for other needs: weapons, jewels, ostrich eggs, seals, scarabs, amulets, small figures in human or animal form, etc. Especially characteristic of the later tombs are the abundant deposits of lamps.
The abode of the dead being one of the centres of the religion of the living, the tomb always possesses sanctity. The internal arrangements, with platforms or hewn benches, will often suggest some burial-ritual. The cup-marks, which frequently appear near or even in the tomb itself, like those still to be seen upon Palestinian dolmens, could serve for sacrifices or libations, or to collect the refreshing rain for the soul of the deceased. Or, again, later usage will suggest that they were planted with flowers which, like the 'Gardens of Adonis,' symbolised the mysteries of death and revival. Often, the dead are buried beneath the streets (if the narrow windings deserve that name), or within the houses, under circumstances which preclude the foundation-sacrifices to be noticed presently. This feature is scarcely accidental; it is well known elsewhere, and was probably intended to keep the spirit of the dead near its former abode, over which it could continue to exercise a benevolent influence.
Jar Burial.—It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between an ordinary burial and some sacrificial ceremony. The burial of new-born or very young infants in jars, in or near some sacred locality (p. [16] sq.), points very strongly to the sacrifice of the first-born to which the Old Testament bears witness (Micah vi. 7). But where the circumstances make this view less probable, the special treatment of those who died in early infancy needs consideration. In inhumation and the return of the dead to the ground we are in the midst of ideas associated with 'mother-earth,' the begetter of all things. The burial in a contracted or squatting position might naturally represent the usual crouched posture of the individual as he sat in life-time among his fellows; it might also point to a belief in the re-birth of the soul of the dead. The jar-burials, where the infant is inserted head downwards, are more suggestive of the latter, and evidence from Africa and Asia shows that provision is sometimes made for the re-birth of still-born or very young babes on the conviction that at some future occasion they will enter again into a mother's womb. The numerous emblems of nature-worship and the mother-goddess, especially at Gezer, raise the presumption that the deities of the place were powers of fertility and generation; and, just as the shrines of saints to-day are visited by would-be mothers who hope for offspring, it is not improbable that in olden times those who had been prematurely cut off from the living were interred in sacred sites venerated by the women. This view, which has been proposed by Dr. J. G. Frazer, will not apply of course to those jar-burials where human-sacrifice is clearly recognisable.[[1]]
[[1]] Adonis, Attis, Osiris, pp. [77] sq., [82] sq..
Human Sacrifice.—A gruesome discovery was made in a cistern at Gezer where, together with a number of adult skeletons, lay the upper half of a young girl about sixteen years of age. Near the mouth were the decapitated heads of two girls. In another case at Gezer (described as a 'foundation deposit') the upper half of the skeleton of a youth had been placed with two adults. Perhaps we should here include the cases where only a few bones of the deceased were preserved, e.g. in one tomb the skull and certain other bones were missing. Vessels, also, were found containing only one or two human bones: the patella of an adult, the calvaria of a skull; but in the majority of instances they belonged to infants. Partial burial of this character has been explained on the theory of cannibalism; this practice, often based on the idea of absorbing the attributes of the deceased, has left scattered traces among the Semites. But the dismemberment of the dead (known at Susa, Egypt, and common to many savage races) admits of other explanations, whether, for example, we observe the use of bones as amulets (p. [51] sq.), or recall the story of the severed Osiris. In the latter, however, it may be suspected that a sacrifice for magical purposes underlies an aetiological legend.[[2]] The bank of skulls south of the monoliths of Gezer (p. [16]) may perhaps recall the mound (or pillar?) of heads which certain Assyrian kings erected in front of the cities they conquered (e.g. Ashur-nasir-pal I.). Such a deed, like their holocaust of children after a victory, was no unmeaning ferocity; religion entered profoundly into ancient life, and every war was a 'holy war.' The horrid rites in honour of the gods who fought for their followers are to be traced in Egypt, Assyria, and the Old Testament, and even as late as 307 B.C. the Carthaginians after their defeat of Agathocles slew the choicest prisoners 'before the altar in front of the holy tent.'
[[2]] J. G. Frazer, Adonis, etc., pp. 273 sq., 321, and especially 331 sqq. Here one may perhaps refer to the tradition that the prophet Isaiah was sawn in half, hidden as he was in a tree (comp. also Ep. Hebrews, xi. 37).
The widespread custom of Foundation Sacrifice survives in Palestine when popular opinion requires that blood shall be shed at the inauguration of every important building, at the breaking-up of unoccupied land, or at the opening of a new well. Thus, a sheep was sacrificed at the building of a jetty for the landing of the German Emperor at Haifa in 1898. The rite is a propitiation to the numen of the place.
Mohammed in his day tried to prohibit such sacrifices to the jinn, but the inveterate sentiment is summed up in the words of a modern native: 'every house must have its death, either man, woman, child, or animal.' The animal-victim is recognised as a substitute, and vulgar superstition still associates with the foundation of buildings some vague danger to human life—if not its loss. Traditions of human sacrifice are recorded by mediæval and older writers, and excavation has disclosed authentic examples. At Gezer the skeleton of an adult female had been placed under the corner of a house, and the bones of infants were often found in or under the walls of houses down to the later Israelite period. At Megiddo, a young girl of about fifteen was laid across a foundation-stone, and a victim at the foot of a tower in Taanach was a child scarcely in its teens. A jar with the remains of a new-born infant rested upon a platform in the Gezer crematorium, and the evidence allowed the inference that it was a dedicatory sacrifice when the cave was taken over and used for inhumation. Infants buried in jars were found, together with bowls and lamps, under the foundations in Gezer as late as the latter part of the Israelite monarchy, although a modification had already been introduced in the simple deposits of lamps and bowls, usually at the corners of houses or chambers or under the jambs of doors. If the bowls represent the sacrificial offerings, the significance of the lamps is uncertain. The victim in the rite had not been burned, but probably buried alive, and it may be conjectured that the identification of life and light (familiar from the Old Testament) underlies the symbolical lamp. The modern Palestinian custom of hanging lights in shrines, etc., in cases of sickness possibly involves the same association of ideas. On the other hand, the lamps found in tombs naturally recall the widespread custom of lighting the soul on its dark journey, or of kindling a lamp in the home to enable it to retrace its steps on the anniversary. These purely burial lamps are very well known (e.g. in Carthage), and they survive in Palestine to the Christian age, when they are inscribed with such distinctive mottoes as 'Christ is my light,' or 'the light of Christ shines for all.'
The Importance of Sacrifice makes itself felt at every sacred site from the enormous quantities of burnt ash before the caves of Serabit to the similar accumulations upon the summit of Mount Hermon. The worshipper believes that the rite brings him into contact with the powers who are to be nourished, invoked, or recompensed. Its prevalence vividly indicates man's dependence upon them throughout the seasons of the year and on the great occasions of life: birth, circumcision (already practised in our period), marriage and death. Underlying the sacrifice is the profound significance of blood. It is the seat of existence; it has potent virtues whether for protection, expiation, or purification; and the utmost care is taken to dispose of it according to established usage. The fat, too, has no less its living qualities, and since the oldest unguents were animal fats—modern usage is often content with butter—it is probable that anointing originally had a deeper meaning than would at first appear. Wanton bloodshed called for vengeance, and when a Babylonian king demanded that Ikhnaton should slay the Canaanites who had killed his merchants, and thus 'bring back their blood' and prevent retaliation, the inveterate blood-revenge of primitive social life finds an early illustration. But as a sacrifice, the slaughter of human victims, though perhaps not regular, was at least not exceptional, and the frightful bloodshed which the Old Testament attests emphasises the difficulties which confronted those teachers of Israel who would disassociate their national God from an inveterate practice (Ezek. xvi. 20 sq., xx. 31).
For a striking illustration of the diffusion and persistence of human sacrifice we may refer to Carthage where the distress caused by Agathocles in 310 B.C. was attributed to the wrath of the god to whom the rich had been offering purchased children instead of their own. But there is a general tendency in religion to soften crude rites, save when a particularly efficacious offering is felt necessary in the midst of some grave crisis, and of the changes in that background of cult which has survived throughout the history of Palestine, the substitution of the animal for the human victim is the most significant. Yet, as we have seen, the idea of human sacrifice has not entirely disappeared (p. [40]). The animal is still recognised as a 'ransom,' and in the present rite of that name loss of human life is averted by the sacrifice of some animal, and it is explained that the sacrifice will combat and overcome the cause of the impending danger. It would be only logical, therefore, to proceed on the assumption that the greater the danger the more powerful and efficacious must be the sacrifice. Current beliefs thus afford suggestive hints for earlier usage, and when we learn that to-day a natural death finds consolation in the thought that it may have been the ransom for another, we meet with an idea that could be put into practice: it is no great step to the ceremonies (observed in Africa) which give effect to the conviction that a man's life may be prolonged or his old age recuperated by the actual sacrifice of another human being. It is essentially the same idea when Egyptian kings, like Amenhotep II. and Ramses II. slew the prisoners of war that they themselves or their name 'might live for ever.' (On the name, see below, p. [60].)
Sacrificial rites were never irrational, however difficult it may be to perceive their object, and from a survey of comparative custom one can sometimes picture the scenes by which they were accompanied. It is only by such means that one can conjecturally explain the discovery near the temple-area at Gezer of animal bones, sliced, hacked, and broken into fragments, with no signs of having been cooked. One is tempted to refer to a rite practised by the Arabs of the Sinaitic desert towards the close of the fourth century A.D. The old ascete, Nilus, describes a solemn procession of chanting worshippers who move around an altar of rude stones upon which is bound a camel. The beast is stabbed, and the leader drinks of the gushing blood. At once the assembly hack the victim to pieces, devouring it raw until the whole is consumed—the entire ceremony begins with the rise of the morning star (in whose honour it was performed) and ends with the rising sun. Was some rite of this kind practised in Palestine? It must be a matter for conjecture; the least that can be said is that the scene is not too barbaric for our land and period.
Broken Offerings, e.g. figurines, models, and other articles, when found deposited in tombs, have been explained in the light of comparative custom as destroyed or 'killed' to the end that their 'soul' may accompany that of the deceased. But other ideas are evidently involved when the area of the sanctuary at Serabit proved to be covered with a mass of pottery, plaques, bracelets, wands, sistra, etc., so fragmentary that no single specimen could be pieced together. At Gezer, also, although the plaques of the goddess were fairly tough, all had been broken, and apparently with intention. We may compare the modern custom of breaking pottery in fulfilment of a vow, an interesting illustration of which was furnished by the late Professor Curtiss from Bludan on the road from Zebedany to Damascus. At a spot, familiarly known as the 'mother of pieces,' is a rock-platform with cave, shrine, sacred grove and hereditary ministers. Hither come the women to break a jar when they have gained their one wish, and it is singular to observe that the traditions which are attached to the custom include the belief that a girl, the patroness of the shrine, lies buried there. The likeness to the suggested rites at Gezer will be noticed (p. [37]). But the stories do not elucidate the peculiar treatment of the offerings, and the usage finds its most probable explanation in the persuasion that things once dedicated or put to a sacred use are 'holy,' and cannot be used for ordinary purposes. We touch upon a fundamental institution embodying a series of apparently paradoxical ideas—the universal 'tabu.'
'Holy' and 'Unclean.'—The terms Holy or Sacred (comp. the Latin sacer) are not to be understood in the ethical or moral sense. A holy thing is one which has been set aside, dedicated, or restricted; it is charged with supernatural influence which is contagious; everything that comes in contact with it also becomes holy. In some cases it is provided that this inconvenient sanctity may be purged; in others, the thing has to be destroyed. When the Talmud says that a Canonical Book of the Old Testament 'defiles' the hand, it means that the very sanctity of the book demands that the hand should be ceremonially purified or cleansed before touching anything else. 'Holy and unclean things,' to quote Robertson Smith, 'have this in common, that in both cases certain restrictions lie on men's use of and contact with them, and that the breach of these restrictions involves supernatural dangers. The difference between the two appears, not in their relation to man's ordinary life, but in their relation to the gods. Holy things are not free to man, because they pertain to the gods; uncleanness is shunned, according to the view taken in the higher Semitic religions, because it is hateful to the god, and therefore not to be tolerated.'
Sacred Animals, in the light of the above, are those associated with cults which might be regarded as illegitimate. An example is afforded by the pig which enters into the rites and myths of Adonis, Attis, Ninib, and Osiris. In a cavern south of the monoliths of Gezer a number of pig-bones lay underneath a shaft which led to the cup-marked surface above (p. [16]); the circumstances recall the Thesmophoria, the caves and vaults in the Greek area connected with Demeter and Proserpine, and the use of the pig in mystic rites of chthonic and agricultural deities. In Palestine and Syria the animal was used in certain exceptional sacrifices which were recognised as idolatrous (Isaiah lxv. 4; lxvi. 17), and it was an open question whether it was really polluted or holy. If, as the excavations suggest, the sacrifice of the swine dates from the earliest inhabitants of Gezer, with whom it was also a domestic animal, it is interesting to observe the persistence of its character as a proper sacrificial animal from pre-Semitic times by the side of the apparently contradictory belief that it was also unclean.
The camel bones at Tell es-Sāfy, also, are of interest since Robertson Smith has shown that the animal (which became 'unclean' to the Israelites), though used by the Arabs for food and sacrifice, was associated with ideas of sanctity, and its flesh was forbidden to converts to Christianity. The model of a bronze cobra found in a temple-enclosure (p. [15]) might be conjecturally explained, but it will suffice to remember that serpents were and still are connected with spirits both benevolent and malevolent. The recurrence of models of the animal-world, the numerous representations upon seals of deer, gazelles, etc. (animals connected with Astarte), or the predilection for the lion upon objects discovered at Megiddo need not have any specific meaning for the religious ideas. On the other hand, the animal-like attributes which appear upon some plaques of the mother-goddess are scarcely meaningless. There is no ground for the assumption that Palestine was without the animal-deities and the deities with special sacred animals, which have left their traces in the surrounding lands, and it would be misleading to suppose that the myths and legends which have grown up around these features account for their origin. The conviction that man was made in the likeness of the gods (who are therefore anthropomorphic) implies certain conceptions of their nature, the development of which belongs to the history of religion, and in turning next to the spirit-world of Ancient Palestine it is necessary that we should be prepared to appreciate a mental outlook profoundly different from our own.