He does not return to his house.
His place knows him no more.[1297]
It is, clearly, 'a land without return,' as the Babylonians conceived it. The condition of the dead in Sheol is sad, precisely as the Babylonians pictured the life in Aralû. The dead are designated by a name[1298] that indicates their weak condition. They can only talk in whispers or they chirp like birds. Their gait is unsteady. In general, they are pictured as lying quiet, doomed to inactivity. Death is lamented as an evil. The dead have passed out of the control of Yahwe, whose concern is with the living. Yahwe's blessings are meted out in this world, but not in Sheol. These blessings consist chiefly of long life and plenty of offspring. The dead need not praise Yahwe. Ecclesiastes—although a late composition—expresses the old popular view in the summary of the fate of the dead,[1299] when it is said that the dead know nothing of what is going on. Their memory is gone; they neither love nor hate, and they are devoid of any ambition. There is no planning, no wisdom, no judgment in Sheol.
Like the Babylonians, the Hebrews also believed that the condition of the individual at the time of death was an index of the condition in store for him in Sheol. He who goes to Sheol in sorrow is pursued by sorrow after death. Jacob does not want to go down to Sheol in sorrow,[1300] because he knows that in that case sorrow will be his fate after death. To die neglected by one's family was fatal to one's well-being in Sheol. Life in Sheol was a continuation, in a measure, of the earthly existence. Hence, the warrior is buried with his weapons; the prophet is recognized by his cloak; the kings wear their crowns; the people of various lands are known by their dress.[1301] Even deformities, as lameness, follow the individual into the grave. On the other hand, while the dead were weak and generally inactive, although capable of suffering, they were also regarded by the Hebrews as possessing powers superior to those of the living. As among the Babylonians, the dead stand so close to the higher powers as to be themselves possessed of divine qualities. Schwally aptly characterizes this apparent contradiction by saying 'that the dead are Refâ'îm (weak), but, at the same time, Elohîm, i.e. divine beings.'[1302] Yahwe has no power over the dead, but they receive some of his qualities. They are invoked by the living. The dead can furnish oracles, precisely as Yahwe can. They not only appear to the living in dreams, but their shades can be raised up from Sheol. A certain amount of worship was certainly paid to the dead by the ancient Hebrews.
Naturally, these popular views were subjected to considerable modification with the development of the religion of the Hebrews. While many features remained, as is shown by the occurrence of the primitive conception of Sheol in comparatively late productions, in one important particular, more especially, did the spread of an advanced ethical monotheism lead to a complete departure from the Babylonian conceptions. While, in the popular mind, the belief that there was no escape from Sheol continued for a long time, this belief was inconsistent with the conception of a Divine Being, who, as creator and sole ruler of the universe, had control of the dead as well as the living. As long as Yahwe was merely one god among many, no exception was made of the rule that the concern of the gods was with the living; but Yahwe as the one and only god, could not be pictured as limited in his scope. He was a god for the dead, as well as for the living. The so-called song of Hannah[1303] expresses the new view when it praises Yahwe as the one 'who kills and restores to life, who leads to Sheol, and who can lead out of it.' Such a description of Yahwe is totally different from the Babylonians' praise of Ninib, Gula, or Marduk as the 'restorer of the dead to life,' which simply meant that these gods could restrain Allatu. The power to snatch the individual from the grasp of Sheol was also ascribed to the national god, Yahwe. Elijah's restoration of the widow's child[1304] to life is an instance of this power, and Jonah,[1305] who praises Yahwe for having delivered him when the gates of Sheol already seemed bolted, may not have had anything more in mind than what the Babylonians meant; but when the Psalmist, to indicate the universal rule of Yahwe, exclaims
If I mount to heaven, thou art there,
If I make Sheol my couch, thou art there,[1306]
the departure from the old Hebrew and Babylonian views of the limitation of divine power is clearly marked. The inconsistency between the view held of Yahwe and the limitation of his power was not, however, always recognized. Hence, even in late portions of the Old Testament, we find views of the life after death that are closely allied to the popular notions prevailing in the earlier productions. It is not, indeed, till we reach a period bordering close on our era that the conflict between the old and the new is brought to a decided issue in the disputes of the sects that arose in Palestine.[1307] The doctrines of retribution and of the resurrection of the dead are the inevitable consequences of the later ethical faith and finally triumph; but the old views, which bring the ancient Hebrews into such close connection with the Babylonians, left their impress in the vagueness that for a long time characterized these doctrines, even after their promulgation. The persistency of the old beliefs is a proof of the strong hold that they acquired, as also of the close bond uniting, at one time and for a long period, Hebrews and Babylonians. What applies to the beliefs regarding the dead holds good also for the rites. Many a modern Jewish custom[1308] still bears witness to the original identity of the Hebrew and Babylonian methods of disposing of and caring for the dead.
There is but one explanation for this close agreement,—the same explanation that was given for the identity of traditions regarding the creation of the world, and for the various other points of contact between the two peoples that we have met with. When the Hebrew clans left their homes in the Euphrates Valley, they carried with them the traditions, beliefs, and customs that were current in that district, and which they shared with the Babylonians. Under new surroundings, some new features were added to the traditions and beliefs, but the additions did not obscure the distinctive character impressed upon them by Babylonian contact. We now know that relations with Babylonia were never entirely broken off by the Hebrews. The old traditions survived all vicissitudes. They were adapted to totally changed phases of belief, but the kernel still remained Babylonian. Beliefs were modified, new doctrines arose; but, with a happy inconsistency, the old was embodied in the new. Hence it happens, that in order to understand the Hebrews, their religion, their customs, and even their manner of thought, we must turn to Babylonia.
Further discoveries beneath the mounds of Mesopotamia and further researches in Babylonian literature will add more evidence to the indebtedness of the Hebrews to Babylonia. It will be found that in the sacrificial ordinances of the Pentateuch, in the legal regulations, in methods of justice and punishment, Babylonian models were largely followed, or, what is an equal testimony to Babylonian influence, an opposition to Babylonian methods was dominant. It is not strange that when by a curious fate, the Hebrews were once more carried back to the 'great river of Babylon,'[1309] the people felt so thoroughly at home there. It was only the poets and some ardent patriots who hung their harps on the willows and sighed for a return to Zion. The Jewish population steadily increased in Babylonia, and soon also the intellectual activity of Babylonian Jews outstripped that of Palestine.[1310] The finishing touches to the structure of Judaism were given in Babylonia—on the soil where the foundations were laid.