Sidelights:—Merodach.
To judge from the inscriptions of the Babylonians and Assyrians, one would say that there were not upon the earth more pious nations than they. They went constantly in fear of their gods, and rendered to them the glory for everything that they succeeded in bringing to a successful conclusion. Prayer, supplication, and self-debasement before their gods seem to have been their delight.
“The time for the worship of the gods was my heart's delight,
The time of the offering to Ištar was profit and riches,”
sings Ludlul the sage, and one of a list of sayings is to the following effect—
“When thou seest the profit of the fear of God,
Thou wilt praise God, thou wilt bless the king.”
Many a penitential psalm and hymn of praise exists to testify to the piety of the ancient nations of Assyria and Babylonia. Moreover, this piety was, to all appearance, practical, calling forth not only self-denying offerings and sacrifices, but also, as we shall see farther on, lofty ideas and expressions of the highest religious feeling.
And the Babylonians were evidently proud of their religion. Whatever its defects, the more enlightened—the scribes and those who could read—seem to have felt that there was something in it that gave it the very highest place. And they were right—there was in this gross polytheism of theirs a thing of high merit, and that was, the character of the chief of their gods, Merodach.
We see something of the reverence of the Babylonians and Assyrians for their gods in almost all of their historical inscriptions, and there is hardly a single communication of the nature of a letter that does not call down blessings from them upon the person to whom it is addressed. In many a hymn and pious expression they show in what honour they held them, and their desire not to offend them, even involuntarily, is visible in numerous inscriptions that have been found.
“My god, who art displeased, receive (?) my (prayer?),
My goddess, who art wroth, accept (my supplication)—
Accept my supplication, and let thy mind be at rest.
My lord, gracious and merciful, (let thy mind be at rest).
Make easy (O my goddess) the day that is directed for death,
My god, (grant that I be?) free (?).
My goddess, have regard for me, and receive my supplication.
Let my sins be separated, and let my misdeeds be forgotten—
Let the ban be loosened, let the fetter fall.
Let the seven winds carry away my sighing.
Let me tear asunder my evil, and let a bird carry it aloft to the sky.
Let a fish carry off my trouble, and let the stream bear it away.
Let the beasts of the field take (it) away from me.
Let the flowing waters of the stream cleanse me.
Make me bright as a chain of gold—
Let me be precious in thy eyes as a diamond ring!
Blot out my evil, preserve my life.
Let me guard thy court, and stand in thy sanctuary (?).
Make me to pass away from my evil state, let me be preserved with thee!
Send to me, and let me see a propitious dream—
Let the dream that I shall see be propitious—let the dream that I shall see be true,
Turn the dream that I shall see to a favour,
Let Mašara (?), the god of dreams, rest by my head,
Make me to enter into Ê-sagila, the temple of the gods, the house of life.
Deliver me, for his favour, into the gracious hands of the merciful Merodach,
Let me be subject to thy greatness, let me glorify thy divinity;
Let the people of my city praise thy might!”
Here the text breaks off, but sufficient of it remains to show of what the devotion of the Babylonians and Assyrians to their gods consisted, and what their beliefs really were. For some reason or other, the writer recognizes that the divinity whom he worships is displeased with him, and apparently comes to the conclusion that the consort of the god is displeased also. He therefore prays and humbles himself before them, asking that his misdeeds may be forgotten, and that he may be separated from his sins, by which he feels himself to be bound and fettered. He imagines to himself that the seven winds, or a little bird, or a fish, or a beast of the field, or the waters of a stream, may carry his sin away, and that the flowing waters of the river may cleanse him from his sin, making him pure in the eyes of his god as a chain of gold, and precious to him as the most precious thing that he can think of, namely, a diamond ring (upon such material and worldly similes did the thoughts of the Babylonians run). He wishes his life (or his soul—the word in the original is napišti, which Zimmern translates Seele) to be saved, to pass away from his evil state, and to dwell with his god, from whom he begs for a sign in the form of a propitious dream, a dream that shall come true, showing that he is in reality once more in the favour of his god, who, he hopes, will deliver him into the gracious hands of the merciful Merodach, that he and all his city may praise his great divinity.
Fragment though it be, in its beginning, development, and climax, it is, to all intents and purposes, perfect, and a worthy specimen of compositions of this class.
It is noteworthy that the suppliant almost re-echoes [pg 053] the words of the Psalmist in those passages where he speaks of his guarding the court of the temple of his god and dwelling in his temple (Ê-sagila, the renowned temple at Babylon), wherein, along with other deities, the god Merodach was worshipped—the merciful one, into whose gracious hands he wished to be delivered. The prayer that his sin might be carried away by a bird, or a fish, etc., brings up before the mind's eye the picture of the scapegoat, fleeing, laden with the sins of the pious Israelite, into the desert to Azazel.
To all appearance, the worshipper, in the above extract, desires to be delivered by the god whom he worships into the hands of the god Merodach. This is a point that is worthy of notice, for it seems to show that the Babylonians, at least in later times, regarded the other deities in the light of mediators with the chief of the Babylonian Pantheon. As manifestations of him, they all formed part of his being, and through them the suppliant found a channel to reconciliation and forgiveness of his sins.
In this there seems to be somewhat of a parallel to the Egyptian belief in the soul, at death, being united with Osiris. The annihilation of self, however, did not, in all probability, recommend itself to the Babylonian mind any more than it must have done to the mind of the Assyrian. To all appearance, the preservation of one's individuality, in the abodes of bliss after death, was with them an essential to the reality of that life beyond the grave. If we adopt here Zimmern's translation of napišti by “soul,” the necessity of interpreting the above passage in the way here indicated seems to be rendered all the greater.
The Creation legend shows us how the god Merodach was regarded by the Babylonians as having attained his high position among the “gods his fathers,” and the reverence that they had for this deity is not only testified to by that legend, but also by the many documents of a religious nature that exist. [pg 054] This being the case, it is only natural to suppose, that he would be worshipped both under the name of Merodach, his usual appellation, and also under any or all of the other names that were attributed to him by the Babylonians as having been conferred upon him by the gods at the time of his elevation to the position of their chief.
Not only, therefore, was he called Marduk (Amaruduk, “the brightness of day”), the Hebrew Merodach, but he bore also the names of Asaru or Asari, identified by the Rev. C. J. Ball and Prof. Hommel with the Egyptian Osiris—a name that would tend to confirm what is stated above concerning the possible connection between the Egyptian and Babylonian beliefs in the immortality of the soul. This name Asaru was compounded with various other (explanatory) epithets, making the fuller names Asari-lu-duga (probably “Asari, he who is good”), Asari-lu-duga-namsuba (“Asari, he who is good, the charm”), Asari-lu-duga-namtî (“Asari, he who is good, the life”), Asari-alima (“Asari, the prince”), Asari-alima-nuna (“Asari, the prince, the mighty one”), etc., all showing the estimation in which he was held, and testifying to the sacredness of the first component, which, as already remarked, has been identified with the name of Osiris, the chief divinity of the Egyptians. Among his other names are (besides those quoted from the last tablet of the story of the Creation and the explanatory list that bears upon it) some of apparently foreign origin, among them being Amaru (? short for Amar-uduk) and Sal-ila, the latter having a decidedly western Semitic look.[2] As “the warrior,” he seems to have borne the name of Gušur (? “the strong”); another of his Akkadian appellations was Gudibir, and as “lord” of all the world he was called Bêl, the equivalent of the Baal of the Phœnicians [pg 055] and the Beel of the Aramæans. In astronomy his name was given to several stars, and he was identified with the planet Jupiter, thus making him the counterpart of the Greek and Latin Zeus or Jove.
As has been said above, Merodach was the god that was regarded by the Babylonians and Assyrians as he who went about doing good on behalf of mankind. If he saw a man in affliction—suffering, for instance, from any malady—he would go and ask his father Aa, he who knew all things, and who had promised to impart all his knowledge to his royal son, what the man must do to be cured of the disease or relieved of the demon which troubled him. The following will give some idea of what the inscriptions detailing these charms and incantations, which the god was supposed to obtain from his father, were like—
“Incantation: The sickness of the head hath darted forth from the desert, and rushed like the wind.
Like lightning it flasheth, above and below it smiteth,
The impious man[3] like a reed it cutteth down, and
His nerves like a tendril it severeth.
(Upon him) for whom the goddess Ištar hath no care, and whose flesh is in anguish,
Like a star of heaven it (the sickness) flasheth down, like a night-flood it cometh.
Adversity is set against the trembling man, and threateneth him like a lion—
It hath stricken that man, and
The man rusheth about like one who is mad—
Like one whose heart is smitten he goeth to and fro,
Like one thrown into the fire he burneth,
Like the wild ass that runneth (?), his eyes are filled with cloud,
Being alive, he eateth, yet is he bound up with death.
The disease,[4] which is like a violent wind, nobody knoweth its path—
Its completed time, and its connection nobody knoweth.”
(Here come abbreviations of the set phrases stating that the god Merodach perceived the man who was suffering, and went to ask his father Aa, dwelling in the Abyss, how the man was to be healed of the sickness that afflicted him. In the texts that give the wanting parts, Aa is represented as asking his son Merodach what it was that he did not know, and in what he could still instruct him. What he (Aa) knows, that Merodach shall also know. He then tells Merodach to go and work the charm.)
“The ḫaltigilla plant groweth alone in the desert
Like the sun-god entering his house, cover its head with a garment, and
Cover the ḫaltigilla plant, and enclose some meal, and
In the desert, before the rising sun
Root it out from its place, and
Take its root, and
Take the skin of a young goat, and
Bind up the head of the sick man, and
May a gust (?) of wind carry it (the disease) away, and may it not return to its place.
O spirit of heaven, exorcise; spirit of earth, exorcise.”
The numerous incantations of this class, in which the god Merodach is represented as playing the part of benefactor to the sick and afflicted among mankind, and interesting himself in their welfare, are exceedingly numerous, and cover a great variety of maladies and misfortunes. No wonder, therefore, that the Babylonians looked upon the god, their own god, with eyes of affection, and worship, and reverence. Indeed, it is doubtful whether the Hebrews themselves, the most God-fearing nation of their time, looked upon the God of their fathers with as much affection, or reverence, as did the Babylonians regard the god Merodach. They show it not only in the inscriptions of the class quoted above, but also in numerous other texts. All the kings of Babylonia, and not a few of those of Assyria, with one consent pay him homage, and testify to their devotion. The names of princes and common people, too, often bear witness to the veneration that they felt for this, the chief of their gods. “Merodach is lord of the gods,” “Merodach is master of the word,” “With Merodach is life,” “The dear one of the gods is Merodach,” “Merodach is our king,” “(My, his, our) trust is Merodach,” “Be gracious to me, O Merodach,” “Direct me, O Merodach,” “Merodach protects,” “Merodach has given a brother” (Marduk-nadin-aḫi, the name of one of Nebuchadrezzar's sons), “A judge is Merodach,” etc., etc., are some of the names compounded with that of this popular divinity. Merodach was not so much in use, as the component part of a name, as the god of wisdom, Nebo, but it is not by any means improbable that this is due to the reverence in which he was held, which must, at times, have led the more devout to avoid the pronunciation of his name any more than was necessary, though, if that was the case, it never reached the point of an utter prohibition against its utterance, such as caused the pronunciation of the Hebrew Yahwah to become [pg 058] entirely lost even to the most learned for many hundred years. Those, therefore, who wished to avoid the profanation, by too frequent utterance, of this holy name, could easily do so by substituting the name of some other deity, for, as we have seen above, the names of all the gods could be applied to him, and the doctrine of their identification with him only grew in strength—we know not under what influence—as time went on, until Marduk or Merodach became synonymous with the word îlu, “God,” and is even used as such in a list where the various gods are enumerated as his manifestations. The portion of the tablet in question containing these advanced ideas is as follows—
81-11-3, 111.
“... is Merodach of planting.
Lugal-a-ki- ... is Merodach of the water-spring.
Ninip is Merodach of the garden (?).
Nergal is Merodach of war.
Zagaga is Merodach of battle.
Bêl is Merodach of lordship and dominion.
Nebo is Merodach of wealth (or trading).
Sin is Merodach the illuminator of the night.
Šamaš is Merodach of truth (or righteousness).
Rimmon is Merodach of rain.
Tišḫu is Merodach of handicraft.
Sig is Merodach of....
Suqamuna is Merodach of the (irrigation-) reservoir.”
As this tablet is not complete, there is every probability that the god Merodach was identified, on the lost portion, with at least as many deities as appear on the part that time has preserved to us.
This identification of deities with each other would [pg 059] seem to have been a far from uncommon thing in the ancient East during those heathen times. A large number of deities of the Babylonian Pantheon are identified, in the Assyrian proper names, with a very interesting divinity whose name appears as Aa, and which may possibly turn out to be only one of the many forms that are met with of the god Ya'u or Jah, who was not only worshipped by the Hebrews, but also by the Assyrians, Babylonians, Hittites, and other nations of the East in ancient times. Prof. Hommel, the well-known Assyriologist and Professor of Semitic languages at Munich, suggests that this god Yâ is another form of the name of Ea, which is possible, but any assimilation of the two divinities is probably best explained upon the supposition that the people of the East in ancient times identified them with each other in consequence of the likeness between the two names.
In any case, the identification of a large number of the gods—perhaps all of them—with a deity whose name is represented by the group Aa, is quite certain. Thus we have Aššur-Aa, Ninip-Aa, Bel-Aa, Nergal-Aa, Šamaš-Aa, Nusku-Aa, Sin-Aa, etc., and it is probable that the list might be greatly extended. Not only, however, have we a large number of deities identified with Aa, but a certain number of them are also identified with the deity known as Ya, Ya'u, or Au, the Jah of the Hebrews. Among these may be cited Bêl-Yau, “Bel is Jah,” Nabû-Yâ', “Nebo is Jah,” Aḫi-Yau, “Aḫi is Jah,” a name that would seem to confirm the opinion which Fuerst held, that aḫi was, in this connection, a word for “god,” or a god. In Ya-Dagunu, “Jah is Dagon,” we have the elements reversed, showing a wish to identify Jah with Dagon, rather than Dagon with Jah, whilst another interesting name, Au-Aa, shows an identification of Jah with Aa, two names which have every appearance of being etymologically connected.
There is then but little doubt that we have in these names an indication of an attempt at what may be regarded as concentration—a desire and tendency towards monotheism. When this began, and what the real opinions of the more thoughtful upon the subject of the unity or the plurality of the deity may have been, we have at present no means of finding out. There can be no doubt, however, that it sprang from more than one cause—the desire not to offend either heavenly or earthly powers by seeming to favour one divinity more than another, the difficulty of dividing and apportioning the domain in nature of every divinity, the wish to identify the divine patrons of the various nationalities with a view to understanding what they really were, and describing their nature for either religious or political purposes—all these things, and probably others, would tend to counteract not only polytheistic bigotry, but also the exclusive appropriation by one tribe or people of any particular divinity, who was their own special helper against their enemies, and to whose particular protection they defiantly laid claim. When in conflict or in dispute with another, there is no doubt that the man bearing the name of Šamaš-nûri, for instance, would be met with the fierce taunt, “The Sun-god is not more thy light than he is mine,” and, as an answer to Yâ-abî-ni, “Jah is our father too, and more so than he is yours,” would at once spring to the lips of any Jew with whom the bearer of the name may have had a dispute.
For the thoughtful, God was one, and all the various gods of the heathen were but His manifestations, misconceived and misunderstood by the ignorant and thoughtless, but, rightly regarded, full of deep significance. The Jews in later times had, in all probability, no tendency to polytheism, yet it is certain that they had but little objection to bearing heathen names, and of all the examples that might be adduced, there is probably not one that is more noteworthy than [pg 061] Mordecai, or Mardecai, the worshipper of Merodach as typical of the God beside whom there was none other, of whom, as we have seen,—and that from a Babylonian tablet,—all the other deities of the Babylonian Pantheon were but manifestations.