The best explanation probably is, that the name of Jacob was never Ya´kub-ilu, but Ya´kub simply, meaning, “he has supplanted,” and referring, naturally, to the person who bore the name. As the name “Supplanter” is not one which a man would be proud to bear, in all probability it was seen that it would be taken for the usual abbreviation for Ya´kub-îlu, with the probable meaning of “God hath restrained” (another signification of the root ´aqab), and thus it may be that there is no record of any one having reproached him on account of it, except the members of his own family, who knew why it was given to him, and recognized in his character as a man something which corresponded with the name given to him because of what was said to have happened at his birth.
Notwithstanding the two etymologies of the name of Joseph which are given (Gen. xxx. 23, 24), “He (God) hath taken away,” and “He (God) hath added,” there is but little doubt that the latter rendering is the correct one, agreeing, as it does, better with the root yāsaph, from which it is derived, the other rendering, from the root āsaph, “to take away,” being due to a kind of pun. (The former rendering is explained as being from the Elohist narrative, the other from that of the Jehovist, but it seems not at all improbable that a woman, even a Canaanitess of those primitive ages, should have made a joke sometimes—they seem always to have been given to making strange comparisons with regard to words, and even the ancient Babylonians were not free from that failing, as at least one of the bilingual tablets shows.) The meaning of the [pg 245] name Joseph is therefore “He (God) hath added,” corresponding with that of the Yašup-îlu, “God hath added,” of the tablets of the time of the dynasty of Babylon. The use of š for s must be due to the fact that Yašup-îlu was, for the Babylonians, a foreign name, and that, in Assyro-Babylonian, šin was pronounced like samech and samech like šin, as a general rule.
Besides the names of the patriarchs Jacob and Joseph, the name Sar-îli, “prince of God,” suggests a comparison with Israel, which is written Sir´ilâa, “Israelites,” in the time of Shalmaneser II. The meaning attributed to this name would seem to be somewhat strained, as it would signify rather “God hath striven,” than “he hath striven with God.” That word-play exists also here, and that the name was a changed form of Sar-îli, “prince of God,” is possible, and is at least justified as a suggestion by the form recorded by Shalmaneser II. already referred to.
The name of his brother Esau may possibly exist in the Babylonian Esê, found on a tablet dated in the reign of Samsu-iluna. Laban does not occur, except as the name of a god in a list of deities worshipped in the city of Aššur. With regard to Bethuel, one cannot help thinking that it must be the same as the place-name Bethel, the terminal u of the nominative being retained in the name of Abraham's nephew. If this be the case, he may have been so named after the “Bethel of cedar” (see p. [201]), though there is just the possibility that, as Gesenius suggests, Bethuel may be for Methuel, the Babylonian Mut-îli, “man of god.” That the Bethel of Haran was a heathen place of worship, however, can hardly be regarded as any objection to one of the family to which Abraham and his descendants belonged bearing such a name. If the Hebrew text be correct, therefore, it is probably an abbreviation, forming part of a name similar to [pg 246] Ê-sagila-zērâ-êpuš, “Ê-sagila (the temple of Belus at Babylon) has created a name,” and others like it. It is also to be noted, that the name given by Leah to the son which Zilpah her handmaid bore to Jacob after she herself left off bearing was Gad, rendered in the Hebrew itself by “Fortunate,” and probably the name of a west Semitic deity, Gad, the god of good fortune.
But the heathenism of the portion of the family living at or near Haran is clearly proved by the matter of the teraphim, which Rachel stole from her father Laban. It is true that they are generally regarded as figures used for the purpose of magic, but as Laban himself calls them his “gods,” there is every probability that they were worshipped as such. It is to be regarded as simply an indication of the difficulty which most dwellers in the midst of polytheism in those days must have found in dissociating themselves from the practices of those with whom they came daily into contact. They may have had all the tendencies possible towards monotheism, but how were they to embrace it in all its perfection in the midst of a population recounting from time to time the many wonderful things which their gods and protecting genii did for them, and which the hearer had no opportunity of probing to the bottom and estimating at their true value? As these people were, to all appearance, but simple shepherds (though sufficiently wealthy), it is hardly to be expected of them that they would go deeply into philosophical considerations concerning the Deity, especially when we remember that the family of Laban was in close contact with the idolatry of Haran.
With regard to the teraphim which Rachel took with her when Jacob fled from her father, there is not much that can be said. Figures so called were in common use among the Jews and other nations for purposes of magic, and to all appearance they were [pg 247] statues of deities (as indicated in the passage now under consideration) which were consulted by some means when anything of importance was about to be undertaken. To all appearance they were the household gods, like the Lares and Penates of the Romans, though they were also used when on expeditions, as when Nebuchadnezzar is represented (Ezekiel xxi. 21-26 in the Heb.) standing at the parting of the ways to use divination, shaking arrows to and fro, consulting the teraphim, and looking at a liver to decide what his success in the operations which he was about to undertake against Jerusalem would be. In Zechariah x. 2 also, there is a reference to the teraphim, which, as oracles, had “spoken vanity,” and the diviners had “seen a lie.” Little doubt exists, therefore, as to what these things were used for. With regard to their form, it is supposed that they were similar to the small figures found in the ruins of the ancient palaces of Assyria, generally under the pavement, in all probability images of the gods of Assyria who, by their effigies, were supposed to protect the palace and its inhabitants. Some of these are four-winged figures similar to those found on the bas-reliefs, whilst others are representations of a deity, probably the god Êa or Aê, the god of the sea, who is represented clothed with a fish's skin, etc. The size of these teraphim must have differed greatly; that which was placed in David's bed by Michal, his wife, to deceive Saul's messengers, must necessarily have been of considerable height—probably not much under that of a man. Those hidden by Rachel when her father came to look for them, however, must have been comparatively small, and the figures found in the foundations of the Assyrian palaces rarely measure more than six inches in height.
In the light of what this incident of the teraphim reveals, it is not to be wondered at that Jacob, when about to go up to Bethel from Shechem, after the [pg 248] treacherous spoiling of the city by his sons, should have said, “Put away the strange gods that are among you,” and it shows also a considerable amount of tolerance on the part of the patriarch. Did he, too, believe that the gods which his relatives and dependents worshipped were in any sense divine beings? In any case, it is to be noted that, after they were given to him, he did not destroy them, but hid them, with the trinkets which they possessed—in all probability in many cases heathen emblems—under the terebinth-tree which was by Shechem.
To all appearance they were allowed to keep these strange gods and heathen emblems until they set out on the journey to make the commanded sacrifices to the God who had revealed Himself to Jacob at Bethel.
It was after this sacrifice at Bethel that God again revealed Himself as El-shaddai, His name in the text of “the priestly narrator” (Gen. xvii. 1), and in many other passages. The word Shaddai here is generally connected with the root shadād, “to act powerfully,” and the translation “God Almighty” is based on this. As the word is a very difficult one, however, there have been many attempts to find a more satisfactory etymology. It is to be noted, therefore, that there is in Semitic Babylonian a word šadû, often applied to deities, and expressed, in the old language of Akkad, by means of the same ideograph (KURA) as is used for mountain (šadû or šaddû in Semitic Babylonian). This word šadû, applied to divinities, Prof. Fried. Delitzsch regards as being distinct from the word for mountain, notwithstanding that they are both expressed by the same word in Akkadian, and renders it by the words “lord,” “commander.”
Have we, in this word, an Assyro-Babylonian form of the Hebrew Shaddai? We do not know, but the likeness between the two is worth referring to. The god Bêl, for example, is called šadû rabû, “the great [pg 249] mighty one,” and Sin, with other deities, bears a similar title, found in such names as Sin-šadûnu, “the Moon-god is our lord.” That the idea of almightiness should be expressed by means of the borrowed Akkadian idiomatic use of the word KURA, “mountain,” as that which towers up commandingly, a mighty mass, would seem to offer an acceptable explanation of what has long been felt as a difficulty. “But God knows best.”