The Religion of Ancient Palestine in the Second Millenium B.C.

by Stanley Arthur Cook

CHAPTER V

THE WORLD OF SPIRITS

Awe.—A fundamental sense of awe was felt in the presence of anything unusual or contrary to experience, and man's instinctive philosophy shaped his ideas from the suggestions of daily life, accounting for all cases of causation by assimilating them to the intentional acts of voluntary agents like himself. There was no doubt of the existence and influence of surrounding unseen powers; they must be cajoled, appeased, bribed and rewarded. Some were inevitably malevolent; with others man could enter into relations which were mutually beneficial. Even at the present day there is no clear distinction between what we should call the natural and the supernatural; a demon or a saint can appear in human or animal form; and the marvel or miracle is that which happens to lie outside the intellectual horizon of the individual. The modern phenomena can be traced back through early sources and appear now in grosser and now in more elevated forms; even the presence of any advanced material culture, or of more spiritual conceptions of the Godhead does not annihilate that lower supernaturalism which flourishes uncontrolled among more rudimentary races. It would be unreasonable to suppose that the religion of our period was more free from imprecision than that of more progressive peoples: the whole routine of life brought the individual into constant contact with unseen agencies, and the world of spirits involved a medley of beliefs, more embarrassing to the modern inquirer who seeks to systematise them, than to the Oriental mind which has always been able and willing to accept the incredible and the contradictory.

Man's relations with the spirits whom he shuns or seeks are illustrated in magical practices; e.g. incantation, symbolic magic (p. [34]). Charms, on the other hand, possess a magical virtue which is effective without interference on the part of the possessor. Many little objects of this character have been unearthed: pendants of red coral (still a prophylactic against the evil eye), beads (still supposed to possess curative properties), small articles cut out of bone (especially the heads of human femora, sawn off and perforated). Here may be included the occasional jewels (e.g. a silver pendant crescent)—amulets and ornaments were closely associated, and the latter continue to convey ideas which could be regarded as idolatrous (compare Gen. xxxv. 4). The representations of Egyptian gods and the 'Horus-eyes' should also be mentioned here. 'Eyes' are still on sale in the East, they are expected to be on the watch for evil influences. But the anxiety to avert evil and to procure favour need not involve an intelligent interest in the means employed, and some of the objects (when not originally possessed by Egyptian settlers) may have as much bearing upon the question of Egyptian influence upon the religion of Palestine as the use of foreign (Phoenician?) formulæ in Egyptian magical texts.

Oracles are obtained at those places where supernatural beings have manifested themselves, or from their symbols or their human representatives. In the stone enclosures at Serabit Professor Petrie would recognise the sacred places visited by those who worked the mines and hoped for useful dreams. The value attached to visions of the night needs no telling, and when the Egyptian king Merneptah saw in his sleep the god Ptah offering him the sword of victory, or when the god Ashur directed the Lydian Gyges to 'lay hold of the feet' of Ashurbanipal (i.e. place himself under his protection), we perceive among relatively advanced societies important factors in the growth of all religions. Divine advice and help could be granted by the statues of the gods: a cuneiform tablet from Taanach refers to an omen given by the finger of the goddess Ashirat, and the writer asks for the sign and its interpretation. As in the 'nodding' of the gods in Egyptian records the modus operandi must not be too closely examined. Some of the old caverns of Palestine were certainly used for magical or religious purposes, and when we find them connected by small and curved passages, it is not improbable that they were the scenes of oracles, theophanies, and the like (p. [15] sq.). As Mr. Macalister has observed, apropos of such caverns in the lowlands of Judah and at Gezer, mysterious responses and wonders could be easily contrived, and would be as convincing to the ignorant as the Miracle of the Holy Fire is to the modern Russian pilgrim in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. The association of caves and other hidden resorts with the worship of deities and oracles is well-known in other fields (e.g. Greece). Susa also had a god of oracles who dwelt in secret retreats, and other deities whose remote haunts were burned by Ashurbanipal when he carried them off.

The representatives of the supernatural powers include prophets, priests, and even kings; they are also the possessors of supernatural qualities, the one involved the other. Between the modern Palestinian majnūn ('possessed by the jinn') and fakir, and the prophet of old—contemptuously called 'madman'—the difference is one of degree. The frenzied utterer is capable of incalculable good or harm, and often enjoys a respect out of all keeping with his merits. His very sanctity places him in a class by himself, and he is allowed a licence which would not be tolerated in others. An early example of inspiration appears in the story of Wenamon of Egypt who visited Zakarbaal of Byblos, probably in the reign of Ramses XII. (about 1100 B.C.). Although the envoy had with him the statue of the great Egyptian god Amon, for nineteen days he received scant courtesy and was unable to obtain the desired interview. At length, as the king was sacrificing to his gods, one of his noble youths was seized with ecstasy which lasted the whole night, and in this state he demanded that 'the messenger of Amon' be summoned (for the sequel see below, p. [74] sq.). Prophecy, as Dr. Frazer has shown, by means of numerous examples, is 'a phenomenon of almost world-wide occurrence,' and it is important to remember that the relations between man and the spirit-world are not to be estimated in the light of modern preconceptions. There were orthodox and unorthodox relations, legitimate and illegitimate communion, true and false representatives of the supernatural powers; distinctions were maintained although the evidence is often insufficient for us to appreciate older standpoints. Broadly speaking, it may be affirmed that the test lay in the communal aspect of religion (whether of clan, tribe, or people) which was opposed to practices which were private or independent of the official cult.

The dead, in their turn, depart into the mysterious unseen which looms so largely in the thoughts of the living, and burial and mourning rites are shaped by many different principles depending upon theories of the nature of spirits, affection for the dead, the safety of his soul, fear of malignant influences, etc. But the interpretation of the religious rites which attended every crisis in life becomes unusually difficult when the community suffer a loss, and perhaps no other study stands so much in need of careful 'comparative' treatment. Unfortunately Palestine has furnished no funerary texts, and little direct evidence; the dead 'go to their fate,' the king of Mitanni fasts on the day he hears of the death of Amenhotep III., and Zakarbaal of Byblos offers to show Wenamon the tomb where the members of a former embassy sleep (lit. lie, or pass the night). A people accustomed to the annual death and revival of nature might easily formulate theories of the survival of the dead, and care is accordingly taken to provide for the needs of the deceased (p. [35]). But the same thoughts are not necessarily symbolised by the same rites. Thus, cremation, the earlier custom, may have been intended to sever the soul from the body, to destroy the haunting spirit, or to prevent contamination and contagion. However, the subsequent use of the Gezer crematorium by those who practised inhumation involved a continuity of thought, albeit with some adaptation and adjustment, since identical conceptions of death and the dead scarcely encircled the two distinct customs. This is instructive for the growth of complex ideas, and the subsequent prohibition in Palestine of certain mourning rites may find a probable explanation in their association with cults which were regarded as illegitimate.

The attitude of the living towards the dead raises the problem of ancestor-worship and the relation between deified ancestors and gods. In the absence of contemporary evidence from Ancient Palestine, we may notice the inscription of King Panammu of North Syria (eighth century), where he acknowledges his indebtedness to his gods, especially Hadad, to whose honour he erects a colossal statue of the deity. The text invokes the god's blessing upon the successor to the throne, provided that the latter when he sacrifices makes mention of Panammu's soul with Hadad or prays that Panammu's soul may eat and drink with the god. Should these duties be neglected, Hadad is besought not to accept the sacrifices, to refuse his requests; and sleeplessness and other troubles are called down upon the unfilial descendant. It appears from this, therefore, that while the dead relies upon the attentions of the living, and it was necessary that his name should be kept fresh; the dead could only exert an indirect influence, and the soul or vital principle, apart from the body, could be regarded as potent only through its companionship with the deity. This may be supplemented from Egypt in the account of the relations between Ramses II. and his dead father, Sety I. The latter is reminded of the benefits which his son had conferred upon him, his statue, and his ka or vital force. These he may still continue to enjoy, and, since he now has the companionship of the gods, Ramses beseeches him to influence them to grant him a long reign. The deceased king acknowledges the bread and water which had been regularly offered to him; and relates that he has become a god more beautiful than before; he now mingles with the great gods, and he declares that he has successfully interceded on his son's behalf.

The dead relied upon his descendants and upon the benevolence of future generations, and Egyptian kings (at least) hoped to partake of the food offered to the recognised deities. Religious and other works were undertaken that the 'name' might 'live.' Promises and threats were freely made to ensure due attention, and were usually respected by the living; but the frequent acts of desecration would indicate that fear of the dead was not necessarily a predominating or lasting feeling, at all events outside a man's own family. The above-mentioned Panammu and Ramses are somewhat exceptional cases since individuals, distinguished by rank, sanctity, or even more ordinary qualifications, readily acquire distinguished positions in after-life. Moreover, Ramses, at all events, was already a god, in his life-time, in accordance with Egyptian belief, and all those who had had the advantage of being representatives of the supernatural powers scarcely lost this relative superiority. The protection afforded by famous tombs and the virtues of the dust taken from such sacred spots are recognised to the present day. The venerated shrines regularly found their justification in the traditions which encircled the illustrious occupant: to violate them was not merely an insult, it struck a blow at one of the centres of cult and prosperity. Unfortunately for the problem, by the side of the tendency to elevate an illustrious ancestor must be placed the very human and inveterate weakness of tracing for oneself a noble ancestry. Like the claim of the modern Palestinian peasant to be descended from the alleged occupant of the local shrine which he venerates, every apparent case of ancestor-worship stands in need of a critical examination. As in most problems of religion, ambiguity of terminology (viz. 'worship') is responsible for much confusion. It must be admitted that there would be a natural inclination for every individual to regard his dead ancestor in the spirit-world as more powerful and influential than himself. If this were so even when there were recognised gods, it is obvious that allowance must be made for the crucial stages, before the deities gained that recognition, and after they had lost it.

Space prevents any adequate reference to the part which animism has held in the history of Palestinian religion; without a recognition of this fundamental factor in all religions much of our evidence would be unintelligible.[[1]] When we take the ideas which are associated with the name, we find that it has magical powers, its use enlists or confers protection or possession; it is the nature or essence of the thing which bears it—indeed, almost identical with it (comp. Is. xxx. 27). Hence the meaning of names is always instructive. The supposition that the child who bears an animal-name will acquire something of the quality of the animal in question (whatever be the original motive) preserves more than metaphor, and indicates a stage when man saw little difference between animals and himself. Even at the present day it is still believed that the soul of an ancestor can reappear in an animal (comp. p. [50]). In like manner, the personal names of our period which denote kinship with a deity point to a belief in a physical relationship as natural as the conviction of the modern native when he refers to Allah in terms which imply that man is in every detail the literal image of the Almighty. A difference between human and superhuman is scarcely recognised at the present day. The women of the land continue to visit the holy sites to obtain offspring, and it is freely acknowledged that welis and spirits of the dead can be physical fathers. This absence of any clear dividing-line between natural and supernatural is inveterate. The Egyptian Pharaoh of old was both a god and the son of a god, and a record is preserved of the visit of the god Amon to queen Ahmose in the form of her husband. The halo of divinity was perhaps not so distinct as in earlier times, but in their king the people still saw the earthly likeness of the deity.

[[1]] It must suffice to refer to works dealing with primitive religion, see E. Clodd, Animism, the Seed of Religion (London, 1905), A. C. Haddon, Magic and Fetishism (1906), in this series.

The Divinity of kings was a fundamental belief which reveals itself in a variety of forms through Western Asia and Egypt. The inscriptions of Gudea, the code of Khammurabi, the Assyrian records and the praises of the Pharaohs reflect conceptions which are materialised now in the insignia of the kings, and now in their costume and toilet. In a Babylonian myth the royal ornaments lay before the supreme god awaiting the monarch; in Egypt the king is the god's ka, his first-born; chosen, created and crowned by the divine father. The kings stood in the closest relationship to the gods; they were not only the heads of the state, they were also (in early Assyria) priest-kings, and in Egypt theoretically all offerings for the living and the dead were made by the Pharaoh. All this was neither mere empty formality nor an isolated eccentricity. It is quite in accordance with the powers commonly ascribed to divine representatives, that the control of the rain and storm is held to depend upon the influence of Ramses II. with the weather-god. It is equally intelligible (from anthropological evidence) when the same king caused the gods to take up their abode in the images which had been prepared for them!

Khammurabi could declare that he carried in his bosom the people of Sumer and Akkad, and the Pharaoh could call himself the husband of Egypt, while Egypt was 'the only daughter of Re (the sun-god) whose son sits upon the throne.' Not only was he the incarnation and the son of the deity (or of all the recognised deities), but he was the cause of the land's fruitfulness, prosperity, and protection. The Pharaoh, 'the god of all people' (as he is once called), received the adoration of his subjects, and one could sometimes believe that he was more essentially a deity than the gods themselves, were it not that the subordinate gods always maintained their hold upon the people locally. With all allowance for the difference between conventional and practical religion, the fundamental relations between land, people, ruler and the deity persisted in many related though varying forms, which are extremely interesting in any consideration of the social changes at the rise of a monarchy and after its downfall.

This digression is necessary, because, although the practical working of such beliefs as these may perplex us, the fact remains that they were shared in Palestine. The petty rulers in the Amarna letters thoroughly recognise the divine nature of the king who was a god and had the god for his father (see p. [78] sq.). Later, when Palestine had its own king, the 'Lord's anointed' was almost as the deity himself (Ex. xxii. 28, cp. 2 Sam. xiv. 17); king and cult were one (Hos. iii. 4), and the king's death could be regarded as the extinction of the nation's lamp (2 Sam. xxi. 17). Not to mention other details, the Messianic ideals of the divinely-begotten son and of the ruler whose origin was of aforetime preserve the inveterate belief in the divine ancestry of rulers, an honour which in other lands continued to be conferred upon rather than claimed by them.

Recognised gods.—It is very important to find that the representatives or possessors of divine powers are the worshippers of their deity in life and his inferiors in death. The recognised gods have their definite circles of clients, and if their human representatives are subsequently worshipped or even deified, this is a not unnatural development, especially as the official deities are apt to be at the mercy of political and religious changes. The older gods can be degraded and sink to the rank of demons (from newer stand-points), but the petty deities and the lower supernatural beings are as little influenced by external vicissitudes as the lower ranks of humanity with whom they always stand in closer relationship. Their persistence in popular belief is as typical as the descent of the more august beings, although even the latter are understood to retain an influence which those of more recent introduction have not yet acquired or are unable to exert. While the general fundamental conceptions remain virtually unchanged, they are shaped by the social and political institutions, for religious and political life formed part of the same social organism.