(excerpted by Clifford Stetner)
Langhe, R. De., Myth, Ritual, and
Kingship in the Ras Shamra Tablets
Widengren, George. Early Hebrew Myths And Their Interpretation.
Rowley, H. H., “Ritual and the Hebrew Prophets.”
Brandon, S. G. F., Myth And Ritual Position Critically Considered
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Langhe, R. De., Myth, Ritual, and Kingship in the Ras Shamra Tablets
…occasion of royal marriages at Ugarit, reminded worshippers of the divine benedictions which attended those rites and institutions imposed on the community by tradition.
Just as we do not know on which occasions and at which festivities the priests of Ugarit recited the great myths of Ras Shamra, we also do not know what use was made of the tale of Keret. But such as it is, in spite of its merits, it reveals little of the emotions and beliefs which gave it birth. It is possible that the problems solved by similar texts 'are certainly not to be solved out of the lexicon, or, as some have alleged, out of the whole gamut of Semitic lexica'. But at least we have there an efficient and reliable means of control [n1 We have noticed with great satisfaction the conclusion of Professor G. R. Driver: 'That some nucleus of historical fact lies behind the story of Keret appears to indeed probable, but how much may be fact and how much fiction can hardly be determined in the present state of knowledge' (Canaanite Myths and Legends (Edinburgh, 1956), p. 5).].
In conclusion: an historic stele of Amenophis II discovered at Memphis reports that 'His Majesty the Pharaoh came once to Ugarit and subdued there all his enemies and following this His Majesty set out again with an easy and gay heart having taken possession of all the country'. We have certainly been less fortunate: we have certainly not taken possession of all 'that Ugarit has revealed; there remain enigmas and problems, which are so many enemies. But we take leave of them 'with an easy and gay heart'.
Widengren, George. Early Hebrew Myths And Their Interpretation.
Are there any Hebrew myths, and is it at all possible to speak of any interpretation of these perplexing entities? A review of the history of their actual interpretation will probably teach us something about early Hebrew myths and their explanation.
It is now exactly eighty years since a real start was made in the discovery and interpretation of Hebrew myths when Ignaz Goldziher, later so famous as an Arabist, published his work on Hebrew mythology [n2. Goldziher, Der Mythos bei den Hebrilern und seine geschichtliche Entwickelung, Leipzig, 1876. An English translation has already been published (1877), but this edition not being available to me my references are to the original German edition.]. The unfavourable reception given to this book caused Hebrew and Old Testament studies to lose that great Semitic scholar, with a corresponding gain to Arabic and Islamic studies. We should not forget in this connexion that it was Goldziher who was the real founder of Islamology—the historical interpretation of Islam.
To be sure, it is not at all difficult to understand the unfavourable impression Goldziher's treatment of Hebrew mythology created among his contemporaries, but at the same time it must be stressed that our modern criticism is of quite a different character from that directed against him eighty years ago [n3 Goldziher himself later on in life disclaimed responsibility for this book!]. The defects of Goldziher's work are easy enough to detect; it is less easy to observe its merits, although they obviously exist.
1 For general surveys the reader is referred to the following articles, occasionally somewhat out of date, because written before the utilization of the Ras Shamra texts: Gunkel, R.G.G.2 iv. 381-90, 'Mythus und Mythologie: III A Im AT.'; Peters, E.R.E. iv. 151-5, 'Cosmogony and Cosmology (Hebrew)' J G. Margoliouth, E.R.E. vi. 656-8, 'Heroes and Hero-Gods (Hebrew)'. My distinguished predecessor (as a contributor on the present theme) Professor T. H. Robinson wrote the essay 'Hebrew Myths' in Hooke, ed. Myth and Ritual, Oxford, 1933. This article will of course often be quoted in what follows.
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Goldziher is completely dominated by the idea that behind the tales of the patriarchs there are to be found old myths. His work is further characterized by the thought that myth is the linguistic expression of the impression made on man by the various phenomena of nature. Also the contrast between nomads and agriculturists is, for him, very important. Moon-mythology,'" concerned with the moon and stars of the night sky, is held to be characteristic of nomad culture, whereas sun-mythology, concerned with the burning sun and the day sky is thought to be equally characteristic of an agricultural people. On points of detail we should note that Goldziher mentions such mythological figures as the winged Sahar, the Dawn, Ps. cxxxix. 9 and the Sun as a young hero in Ps. xix. 6 [n1 Cf. Goldziher, op cit., pp. 135 f. and 134.].
Goldziher also refers to the role played by the moon calendar among the nomads in contrast with the sun calendar prevailing among tillers of the soil [n2 Cf. Goldziher, op cit., pp. 75 ff.].
He had already put forward the interpretation of Jonah as a sun-hero [n3 cf. Goldziher, op. cit., p. 120.]. He further distinguished as a special category of myths the so-called culture-myths, to which he devoted a whole chapter [n4 Cf. Goldziher, op. cit., ch. vi, pp. 242-80.]. Last but not least, he conceived the remarkable notion of myth developing either into religion or into history [n5 Cf. Goldziher, op. cit., p. 301. When Goldziher assumes a development from myth to history he is in a way in line with those modern scholars who speak of 'the historicization of myth', undoubtedly a real and often recurring phenomenon, cf. below, p. 201 n. 1.].
Goldziher drew his comparative material chiefly from Arabian culture, but by no means neglected the wider field including Indo-European mythology [n6 This was, of course, partly due to lack of concrete data from the Semitic field at the time when Goldziher wrote, but one is rather. astonished to see Syrian pagan religion so completely neglected. One is under the impression that Goldziher's ideas of interpretation did not come from carefully collected and sifted material but rather preceded and determined this very collection.]. For this reason we should call his method phenomenological rather than historical, although his use of the Arabian way of life of course has a genetic aspect too [n7 The comparison between Hebrew nomads and nomad tribes of pre-Islamic Arabia has been classical among scholars like Wellhausen and others of his generation. The nomad Hebrew tribes of the times of Moses are often supposed to have been something very akin to Arab badawis.].
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The next really important step in the interpretation is marked by Gunkel and his school, above all Gressmann, Schmidt, and Mowinckel [n1 Gressmann, Schmidt, and Mowinckel may all be called real followers and pupils of Gunkel who was the founder of a veritable school.]. Gunkel, perhaps the greatest Old Testament scholar of this century, was dominated by the idea that myth was younger than folk-lore, and for this reason was deeply influenced by it. This assumption was common among folk-lorists of his day and may be found even in our own time [n2 Cf. Gunkel, Genesis, 3rd ed. (Gottingen, 1910).]. Gressmann, next to Gunkel the dominating figure among Old Testament exegetes in modern times, shared unreservedly the general convictions of Gunkel which led him to a similar and regrettable neglect of the ritual aspects of myth. For in folk-lore the emphasis is on word and not on ritual action; myth is predominantly conceived of as 'a story of the gods', Gottergeschichte [n3 Cf. Gunkel, op. cit., p. xiv; R.G.G.2 iv, p. 383.]. Accordingly myth was chiefly interpreted by this school as a kind of cosmological, anthropological, and cultural speculation. Emphasis was laid on myths of origin, such as creation-myths, paradise-myths, Of myths of nature such as sun-myths, or finally aetiological myths, which played a very great role in the interpretation of the texts [n4 cf. Gunkel, Op cit., pp. xv, xx ff.; R.C.G.2 iv, pp. 382 f.].
In the main it was denied by Gunkel that the patriarchs originally were mythical figures, ancient gods, as had been asserted not only by Goldziher, but also by Winckler representing the Pan-Babylonian school [n5 cf. Gunkel, op. cit., pp. lxvi ff. Winckler, as a typical representative of the Pan Babylonian school, advocates ideas that cannot possibly be taken seriously in our day.], and by the great historian Eduard Meyer, who made a most interesting attempt to establish an association between the patriarchs and the many cult-places mentioned in connexion with them in the sagas of Genesis [n6 Cf. Meyer, Die Israeliten und ihre Nachbarstumme (Halle, 1906), pp. 249 ff. Behind Meyer we find Noldeke who was always a champion of the same opinion.]. Gunkel followed Goldziher in his interest in the so-called culture-myths [n7 cf. Gunkel, op. cit., p. xvi, with a reference to Gressmann, Z.A.W. xxx (1910).].
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Gunkel's chief fault was his acceptance of the prevailing opinion that myth is a later development of the tale. But his special merit was his willingness to make comparisons above all with surrounding ancient cultures, e.g. Mesopotamia and (to a lesser extent) Phoenicia and Egypt, whereas the comparative material from Arabia, so popular among the scholars of an older generation like Goldziher, was more or less ignored by him.
While Gressmann made some original contributions to interpretation [n1 Cf. Z.A.W. xxx (1910) pp. 9 ff. and Mose und seine Zeit (Gottingen, 1913), passim.] it must be said that Schmidt in his great work on Jonah did not do more than trace the mythical motifs (which still survive in that book) [n2 Schmidt, Yona (Gottingen, 1907); we have already indicated that this was an old idea, cf. above, p. 150 n. 3.]. In his case we cannot speak of any interpretation of actually existing early Hebrew myths.
Mowinckel, although like Schmidt a pupil of Gunkel, has freed himself in so many respects from his master's influence, and at the same time has been so deeply influenced by other Scandinavian scholars, that he must rather be classed as belonging to the so-called Scandinavian school.
We come next to the British 'Myth and Ritual School', which is, of course, not a school in the same sense in which we can speak of Gunkel and his school.
This British line of research was started by Professor Hooke by means of a combination of exegetical, anthropological, and folk-loristic methods. The influence of Frazer (and to some extent Hocart) is conspicuous everywhere. Frazer himself had demonstrated his interest in the Old Testament by publishing his work Folk-lore in the Old Testament, but it is quite obvious that his general views of so-called 'primitive' conceptions or of mythology were not at all accepted by Hooke, the inspiring force of the 'school' [n3 Cf. Hooke, Myth and Ritual, pp. 1 f. where some clear criticisms were presented. For Hooke as the 'starter' of the whole 'Myth and Ritual School', cf. op. cit., p. xiv of the preface written by Simpson. The term 'school' is used here for convenience because it has been customary in literature to speak of 'the Myth and Ritual School'.].
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Hocart, himself a contributor to the literary products of the 'school', was mainly influenced by the work of Perry [n1 Hocart, who published his book Kingship in London in 1927, worked rather independently, as Professor Hooke has told me (letter of 22 Oct. 1955). He is quoted by Hooke, op. cit., p. 6, and was associated with Hooke's collaborators in the collection of essays presented in The Labyrinth, ed. Hooke (London, 1935), to which he contributed the paper 'The Life Giving Myth', pp. 261-81.]. This influence manifested itself inter alia in a complete denial of the evolutionary principles so characteristic of British anthropologists of an older generation (and with typical British conservatism still cherished in some quarters with admirable piety towards tradition). The leader of the 'school', Hooke, by profession an Old Testament 'scholar, had also received an anthropological training, and another of the leading members, Professor James, can be classified also as a professional anthropologist besides being an historian of religions.
Accordingly it is the emphasis on anthropology and folk-lore which constitutes the special mark of this British 'Myth and Ritual School'. The predilection for folk-loristic methods is thus a trait shared with the school of Gunkel, but while Gunkel above all is interested in folk-stories, Hooke and his followers are more concerned with popular customs. Another common trait is the presupposition that the ancient Near East was the home of the mythical conceptions met with in the Old Testament. Egypt, Mesopotamia, and pre-Israelitic Canaan are invoked to assist in the interpretation of difficult passages, where a Hebrew myth is assumed to be found. The special contribution of the school is, however, the theory of a general pattern of myth and ritual in the Ancient Near East, including Israel [n2 Cf. Hooke, Myth and Ritual, pp. 1 ff. 'The Myth and Ritual Pattern of the Ancient East'.]. In this we are reminded of the American anthropologist Ruth Benedict's 'patterns of culture' [n3 It should be observed that Benedict did not publish her book Patterns of Culture until 1934. Hooke speaks, op. cit., p. 5, of 'culture patterns'. Professor Hooke has told me (letter of 22 Oct. 1955) 'that Ruth Benedict had no influence whatever on the Myth and Ritual movement'.], and the trend in modern cultural anthropology represented by her; though it is very doubtful whether her influence can be traced here.
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Compared with the definition of myth given by Gunkel we have to note a great advance, for emphasis was laid by Hooke on the cultic aspect of myth: 'the original myth, inseparable in the first instance from its ritual, embodies in more or less symbolic fashion, the original situation which is seasonally re-enacted in the ritual' [n1 Hooke, Op. cit., p. 3.]. This definition of the essence of myth has played a dominating role in subsequent discussion.
The Scandinavian school is still less a school in the true German sense of the word than the British 'Myth and Ritual School'. It can be said to be a certain trend, in a way running parallel with the two schools already mentioned and at the same time in its later phases being partly, sometimes deeply, influenced by the British scholars [n2 Engnell has declared himself a convinced 'patternist'. The present writer has often, especially in the various volumes of the series 'King and Saviour', declared his adherence to the principles advocated by Hooke and his followers. On the whole all members of the so-called Upsala school (the term is used here for convenience) have learnt much from British scholarship in this regard.]. The Scandinavian school starts from the strong influence exercised by the Danish philologist and historian Gronbech and his interpretation of cult as a ritual drama, and this influence is met with especially in the important works of Mowinckel and Pedersen [n3 Cf. the work of Gronbech, The Culture of the Teutons (London, 1931), with the essay on 'Ritual Drama', ii. 260 ff. As to Gronbech, cf. Widengren, 'Die religionswissenschaftliche Forschung in Skandinavien in den letzten zwanzig Jahren', Z.R.G.G. v (1953), ii, 'Die danische Forschung', Heft 4. In The Old Testament and Modern Study, ed. Rowley (Oxford, 1951), p. 189, Gronbech is called 'anthropologist'. He was, however, above all a philologist, trained by VilhelmThomsen, and published his thesis on a Turkish subject and afterwards became a university lecturer in English. On the influence exercised by Gronbech on Mowinckel and Pedersen cf. Anderson, 'Hebrew Religion', The Old Testament and Modern Study; pp. 292, 295; Widengren, op. cit., pp. 320 f. Both Mowinckel and Pedersen expressly acknowledge their debt to Gronbech.]. From the very outset the cultic aspect of myth accordingly prevails to the utmost degree among Scandinavian scholars in their interpretation of myth and legend [n4 For this reason the cultic aspect is emphasized also by many New Testament scholars of Uppsala, not least those of an older generation, e.g. Gillis Wetter.], thanks to this influence of Gronbech. Some scholars in Uppsala who had been deeply influenced by the works of Mowinckel and Pedersen, were later to a certain extent influenced also by the British 'Myth and Ritual School' [n5 This holds true especially of the present writer.].
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If anything can be said to be characteristic of this Scandinavian school it is that it was dominated by studies in Semitic languages and cultures, rather than by folk-lore and anthropology, and that the history of religions, based on an accurate philological interpretation of the texts, was given priority over general. comparisons based on folk-lore and anthropology. This fact is due, of course, to the education and training received by the Scandinavian scholars. A marked anti-evolutionary trend is conspicuous everywhere, except in Mowinckel, who also stands more aloof from Pedersen and the younger Swedish scholars [n1 For a discussion and criticism of the principles of evolutionism cf. Widengren, 'Evolutionism and the Problem of the Origin of Religion', Ethnos, x (1945), pp. 5796.]. The theory of a general myth and ritual pattern was accepted, in some quarters with enthusiasm, in others with more reserve [n2 For some criticisms cf. Widengren, R.o.B. ii (1943), p. 50 where it is said that the Old Testament passages have not been sufficiently analysed and that for this reason the work of the school sometimes suffers from a certain schematic and 'constructive' character. (It belongs to 'life's little ironies' that the same charge was eventually brought against me too!) But I ought to have observed the obvious fact that the books published were intended chiefly to introduce a point of view.]. Again Mowinckel took his own course by explicitly criticizing the hypothesis of a Near Eastern pattern in myth and ritua1 [n3 Cf. Mowinckel, Ban som Rommer (Copenhagen, 1951, Engl. transl. 1956), pp. 26 f., where the criticisms presented by Frankfort, Kingship and the Gods (Chicago, 1948), are accepted. He seems to be more positive in his book Offersang og sangoffer (Oslo, 1951), p. 36, but on p. 61 he denies the thesis that there ever existed a common Near Eastern royal ideology (if I have understood him correctly, his terminology being very loose, because he speaks of 'the king in all oriental religions', but no one has included other religions than those of the ancient Near East).].
The discovery of the Ras Shamra texts and their interpretation exercised a great influence on both the British and the Scandinavian schools. In the Ugaritic mythological poems a connecting link was found between Israel and Canaan, with the ancient Near East providing the general cultural background. It was this Canaanite-Syrian literature that provided us with definite proof that Canaan and Israel belonged to the same culture area as Mesopotamia [n4 Incidentally it may be observed that this term 'culture area' was used both by Hooke, Myth and Ritual, p. 5, and by Widengren, Ethnos, p. 95 (with a reference to Goldenweiser, Anthropology (London, 1937), pp. 457 ff.). I am not quite sure whether Professor Hooke considers the whole ancient Near East one vast culture area with Mesopotamia as its centre and with one general myth and ritual pattern, cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 70, or if he thinks of several developments of a common, older pattern, cf. The Origins of Early Semitic Ritual, The Schweich Lectures of the British Academy 1935 (London, 1938), p. 57. (The difference of opinion has been observed by Anderson, op. cit., p. 294 n. 1.) Widengren, The Accadian and Hebrew Psalms of Lamentation as Religious Documents (Stockholm, 1937), pp. 1 ff., esp. p. 17, emphasized that Palestine and Syria were only offshoots of Babylonian civilization.].
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It was now possible to demonstrate in detail Early Hebrew Myths and that Israel had been profoundly influenced by the old inhabitants of Canaan; this had, of course, been assumed long ago, but demonstrations had fallen short of convincing proof. Incidentally it is curious to observe to what extent the convincing demonstrations were made by scholars outside the British and Scandinavian schools. Of course many contributions were furnished by members of these schools also, but so far as the British 'Myth and Ritual School' is concerned it would seem as if the Second World War had a devastating effect, for since 1940 its members have published very little on the same lines as before. The more welcome therefore is the present volume.
The chief value of the Ugaritic texts from a more general point of view of myth-interpretation lies in the fact that they so clearly exhibit the ritual aspects of myth. This has been emphasized among others by Pedersen [n1 Cf. Pedersen, ed. Illustreret Religionshistorie (Copenhagen, 1948), pp. 200, 202 f., 204 f., 206 f., 210; 'Canaanite and Israelite Cultus', A.c.O. xviii (1939), pp. 1-14.]. For this reason these mythological poems possess typical value for the interpretation of ancient Hebrew myths.
This short and admittedly very incomplete survey of the history of interpretation has shown us myths in their close association with rites and ceremonies, as part of a ritual. Further, the theory of a general myth and ritual pattern of the ancient Near East has proved a very useful clue and must obviously be given the most careful consideration. At all events we have to look upon Israelite Canaan as part of a vast culture area of the Near East, dominated by Babylonian culture patterns, and this not only in the field of religion but in spiritual and material culture in genera1 [n2 The spread of cuneiform writing and literature, of Mesopotamian seals, of cosmology, of temple architecture and symbolism, of art patterns, &c., as well as of many Babylonian loanwords would seem to be most typical.].
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Egypt, which certainly exercised a considerable influence on Canaan, constitutes an entirely separate culture area [n1 Thus far we may admit that criticisms (e.g. Frankfort, Mowinckel, &c.) were right to a certain degree. But from a more general point of view, when, e.g., the whole culture area of Egypt and the Near East is considered, both these smaller culture areas can be regarded as constituting one single culture area as contrasted, for instance, with the Mediterranean culture area. In this case the lack of orientation in cultural anthropology in its modern aspect (perhaps coupled with apologetic inclinations) have caused a certain bias and much unnecessary bitterness in polemics, e.g. on the side of Frankfort and Mowinckel.].
Myth as a literary creation has to be seen as older than those popular tales, stories, sagas, and legends where corresponding motifs are found [2 For a general survey cf. Widengren, Religionens varld, 2nd ed. (Stockholm, 1953), pp. 151-62.]. There has been a certain tendency in modern interpretation of Hebrew myths to neglect their speculative force and importance [n3 But already Gunkel, Genesis, pp. xv f. had stressed the 'philosophical' implications of some of the Old Testament myths.]. But actually cosmological myths have played a considerable role in the religious life of Israel and it would seem to be quite obvious that myth in Israel as elsewhere is very often on the verge of developing into a kind of theory of the world and of life [n4 It is to Radin that the credit should be given of having shown the importance of 'the speculative element among non-literate peoples, cf. Primitive Man as Philosopher (New York, 1927). For Africa we may refer to the various interesting publications of Griaule, cf., e.g. (together with G. Dieterlen), 'The Dogon', African Worlds 1953, pp. 83 ff.; 'Mythe de l'organisation du monde chez les Dogons du Soudan', Psyche, vi (1947), pp. 443 ff.; 'Descente du troisieme verbe chez les Dogons du Soudan', ibid., xiii-xiv (1947), pp. 3 ff., and many articles in Journal de la Societé des Africanistes, 1948-50, 1952. Among ancient Indo-European peoples the speculative spirit in myth is most conspicuous, cf. the many epoch-making works of Dumezil and for this question in general Widengren, Religionens varld, pp. 133, 151 f.]. Even in an agricultural society there was room for thought about more things than 'certain practical and pressing problems of daily life' [n5 Hooke, Myth and Ritual, p. 2.].
The question we put forward in our introductory sentence can without any doubt be answered in the affirmative. The history of interpretation of what scholars have called Hebrew myths has already achieved much, demonstrating in the most convincing way that there once existed in Israel a very rich treasure of myths—real, i.e. ritual myths—playing a central role in the religious system and life of the Hebrew people.
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I should like to stress the word 'system', for in Israel as elsewhere in the Ancient East there existed a real system of ideas, a veritable Weltanschauung.
When mentioning cosmological myths we have already touched upon one kind of myth, incontestably preserved among older parts of Old Testament literature. Although Israel, according to the judgement of Gunkel, was unfavourably disposed towards myths [n1 'Israel ist den Mythen nicht gunstig gewesen', R.G.G.2 iv. 381. This is better expressed in his Genesis, p. xiv: 'Der eigentliche Zug der Jahve-Religion ist den Mythen nicht gunstig.'] we nevertheless meet with a great many passages in the Old Testament containing allusions to cosmological myths, as indeed Gunkel himself has demonstrated [n2 Above all in his classic work Schopfung und Chaos (Gottingen, 1895); 2nd impr. 1921.]. Actually there is here a confusion, which recurs rather often, between the Old Testament and Israel itself. We must not lose sight of the fact that the Old Testament, as it is handed down to us in the Jewish Canon, is only one part—we do not even know if the greater part—of Israel's national literature [n3 Cf. Pedersen, Z.A.W. xlix (1931), p. 161: 'Fragen wir, was das AT ist, muB die Antwort zunachst ganz einfach lauten : Es ist die nationale Literatur des judischen Volkes, wie sie etwa 1-2 Jahrhunderte vor dem Anfang unserer Zeitrechnung vorlag.']. And, moreover, this preserved part has in many passages quite obviously been exposed to censorship and correspondingly purged [n4 For this criticism of myth cf. Peters, op. cit., p. 154 b; Gunkel, Genesis, p. 119 f., and in general Oesterley-Robinson, Hebrew Religion, its Origin and Development, 2nd. ed. (London, 1937), p. 173; cf. also Gressmann, The Expositor, ser ix. 3 (1925), p. 4-17.]. In such circumstances it is in fact quite remarkable that we are still able to detect so many traces of myths in the Old Testament. It surely calls for notice that Old Testament poetry has kept intact some ancient Near-Eastern myths to a considerably greater extent than its prose narratives, and it is astonishing to find so many traces of myths also in those poetical parts of the Old Testament that may almost certainly be dated to exilic and post-exilic times [n5 Above all in Isa. xl-lxvi and in Job.].
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To these poetical parts must, however, be added Genesis, although there are certain arguments in favour of the hypothesis that Genesis as far as its mythical material is concerned is largely based upon epic traditions [n1 Sievers's old theory of an original metric version of Genesis went too far, but that traces of poetic texts have been discovered by Gunkel in his commentary is well known. Through the work of Cassuto the whole problem has received a fresh stimulus and ought to be examined anew. We hope to be able to revert to this problem. (Professor Burney also attempted to prove the metrical character of Genesis.)]. But on the whole it is in the poetry rather than in the prose that we are confronted by Hebrew myths. How, then, can we explain, in a text admittedly rather late like Job, the astonishingly large number of allusions to ancient Hebrew myths? This question has been the subject of discussion [n2 Cf., e.g., Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, pp. 158 ff., 162; Robinson, in Myth and Ritual, p. 176. It is a matter for regret that the thesis of Feinberg, 'Ugaritic literature and the Book of Job' (Baltimore 1945), remains unpublished, for obviously such a problem must have been treated there. For the solution offered by Albright cf. below, p.202.] and we shall revert to the problem.
First of all when treating of existing Hebrew myths we should not forget—as is usually done—that the description of the appearance of Yahweh himself is based upon mythical notions and very often possesses a definite mythical-anthropomorphic colouring [n3 It should be observed that, e.g., Eichrodt, Theologie des Alten Testaments (Leipzig, 1935), ii. 3 speaks of 'der Form naturmythologischen Denkens'.]. We have in Deut. xxxiii. 2-3 a short, unfortunately rather enigmatic, description of Yahweh's triumphal procession in old times from Sinai [n4 A detailed philological and historical commentary on this passage was given by Nyberg, Z.D.M.G. xcii (1938), pp. 320-44.]. Here it is said that He comes from 'Myriads of Holy Ones', which may be taken as the name of a place [n5 Cf. Nyberg, of. cit., p. 336.] or as a designation of His divine court. At any rate this expression must be associated with other similar passages, describing God as surrounded by His royal household or His assembly: (e.g.)
El is a terrible master in the great council of the Holy Ones,
and awe-inspiring above all those round about him. (Ps. lxxxix. 8) [n6 Ibid.]
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These Holy Ones in Ps. xvi. 3 appear in an obscure context, but obviously in this passage too they are thought of as independent, divine beings [n1 An attempt at emendation and reconstruction of the text by Nyberg, Studien zum Hoseabuche, U.U.A. 1935: 6, pp. 118 ff.]. In Zech. xiv. 5 we further read:
And Yahweh, my God, will come,
all thy Holy Ones with thee [n2 Cf. Nyberg, of. cit., p. 336.].
In Daniel viii. 13 the seer is listening to the conversation between two of the Holy Ones [n3 Cf. Montgomery, The Book of Daniel, I.C.C., 1927, pp. 231 f. (rather unsatisfactory).]. Cf. also Ecclus. xlii. 17 [n4 The text: 'Nor have the Holy Ones of God been able to tell the wonders of Yahweh.' Smend, Die Weisheit des Yesus Sirach (Berlin, 1906), p. 44, adopts the marginal gloss [HEB]) instead of [HEB]. Usually Job xv. 15 is compared with the passage in question.]. Just because the Holy Ones constitute the assembly of Yahweh He is glorified as unsurpassable among them as we see from Exod. xv. II:
Who is like thee among the gods, Yahweh,
who is like thee, glorious among the Holy Ones [n5 It is not necessary to emend [HEB] if we take. [HEB] as an abstract substantive possessing the value of a broken plural, cf. Nyberg, Z.D.M.G. xcii (1938), pp. 335 f. (it is true that Nyberg did not quote this passage, but the omission was perhaps only due to an oversight).]?
This passage is especially valuable when compared with Ps. lxxxix. 6 f., where in the two stichoi immediately preceding the already quoted passage it is said:
The heavens praise thy miracle, Yahweh,
yea, thy faithfulness in the assembly of the Holy Ones.
For who in the clouds is equal to Yahweh,
can be like Yahweh among the sons of the gods.
Here we can clearly see that 'the assembly of the Holy Ones' is the same as 'the sons of the gods', i.e. according to usual Hebrew and Semitic idiom 'the gods' [n6 I cannot find any reason for emending [HEB] in v. 6. It goes without saying that it would be more correct to translate [HEB] as 'gods'. The conventional translation is used here. Cf. also Winter, Z.A.W. lxvii (1955), pp. 40 ff.].
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Very impressive indeed is the scene depicted in Ps. lxxxii, where God (El) is standing in the assembly. of the gods, judging them [n1 In the text I have left out the passage Hos. xii. 1, which is difficult. For interpretation and translation cf. Nyberg, Studien, pp. 92 f. No emendation being necessary I would rather like to translate: 'But Judah is seeking pasture with El, and with the Holy Ones she is faithful', interpreting this saying somewhat differently from Nyberg (who, however, Z.D.M.G. xcii (1938), p. 336 n. 2, admitted that the lower Canaanite deities might be alluded to by the prophet). I would suggest that because El and the Holy Ones together constitute the assembly of the gods there is no opposition between them in this passage and that [HEB] and [HEB] for this reason must possess a synonymous meaning. Therefore I take [HEB] in the meaning of Arabic [HEB] (but in another sense than Nyberg). The meaning would be that Judah is seeking refuge with El and is clinging to his assembly, the Holy Ones. For Ps. lxxxii cf. Morgenstern, 'The Mythological Background of Psalm 82', H.U.C.A. xiv (1939), pp. 29-126; Nyberg, , Studien, pp. 122-5.]. Yahweh is accordingly the highest god in a councilor assembly of gods, called 'the Holy Ones', or 'the Holy Ones of God' or simply 'the gods' ('the sons of the gods').
This assembly of the Holy Ones is found in Canaanite mythology. In the Phoenician inscriptions there is, for instance, such a passage as Esmunazar inscr. 11. 9, 22, where the phrase 'the(se) holy gods' [n2 Quoted from N.S.I. No. 5: [HEB]. For the plural meaning cf. op cit., p. 24 note to no. 3: 10, and Harris, A Grammar of the Phoenician Language (New Haven, 1936), p. 77, S.V. [HEB] 'these'.] occurs; or, still more interesting from our point of view, 'the congregation of the holy gods of Byblos', Yehimilk of Byblos 11. 4-5 [n3 Quoted from Harris, op. cit., p. 77, s.v. [HEB] 'god', and Albright, J.A.O.S. xvii (1947), pp. 156 f.]. In the Ugaritic texts, moreover, the expression 'the Holy Ones' is synonymous with 'the gods' (texts no. 137: 20 f., 38; 2 Aqhat i. 4,9, 14.).
In the case quoted from the Yehimilk inscription the word for assembly is mphrt, which corresponds to the same term in Ugaritic where we meet with the corresponding expression 'the assembly of ' the sons of El (the gods)', mphrt bn il, which has a synonymous term in phr bn ilm or phr ilm [n4 Quoted from Gordon, U.H., Glossary, p. 262: 1629. There is a second expression for assembly, viz. ‘dt ilm, U.H., Glossary, p. 255: 1455, and a third one dr bn il, U.H., Glossary, p. 224: 560 (add to the references 128, iii. 19).]. In the Ras Shamra texts this conception of an assembly of the gods recurs very often and it is clearly thought of as being under the leadership of EI, 'the father of the gods' [n5 Cf. the text 2 in Gordon, U.H., 1. 33 lab bn il. The father of the sons of El (God) cannot possibly be any other god than El himself.].
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Behind the Canaanite idea of a high god and his assembly of holy gods, where he is as it were the president and redoubtable leader, we discern without any difficulty the Mesopotamian conception of Marduk and the assembly of the gods, the puhur ilani, as it occurs especially in the Epic of Creation, Enuma elis, tablet IV. In Mesopotamia we also have abundant proof of the idea that the high god is considered the father of the gods [n1 Cf. Tallqvist, Akkadische Gotterepitheta (Helsingfors, 1938), p. 1; s.v. abu.].
So the mythical idea of God surrounded by his assembly has evidently been taken over from the Canaanites, who shared this conception with the inhabitants of Mesopotamia.
We may now pass on to the various forms of the epiphanies of Yahweh. It is well known that He is a god associated above all with storm, lightning, and thunder. His epithets or the invocations of him give sufficient indication of his character, for he is 'the rider on the clouds', Ps. lxviii. 5, or 'the rider of heavens', Deut. xxxiii. 26 (Ps. lxviii. 34), or 'the rider on the cloud', Isa. xix. 1. With a still stronger mythical colouring it is said that he is riding on the Cherub, 2 Sam. xxii. 11; Ps. xviii. 11. In Hab. iii. 8 Yahweh is even depicted as borne on His horses. Among these passages, as has been observed long ago, Ps. lxviii. 5 is of special interest, for the Hebrew expression runs: rokeb ba’arabot. This epithet was not understood until the Ugaritic exhibited in several passages the corresponding epithet rkb ‘rpt, given to Ba’a1 [n2 Observed already by Bauer, Z.A.W. li (1933), pp. 88 ff. Cf. further Gordon, U.H., Glossary, p. 259: 1539.]. In this case too the mythical image has been inherited by the Israelites from Canaan, though we can trace the same conception back to Mesopotamia. Here the godhead is sometimes depicted as riding in the sky in his car [n3 rakib isnarkabti.], or as riding on the storm or hurricane [n4 (rakib umi = ) ud.da us.a; (rakib ugalla = ) u.gal.la us.a.], or on the typhoon [n5 rakib abubi. All these epithets are indexed in Tallqvist, Ope cit., p. 175, s.v. rakiibu.]. This is true especially of Adad, the East-Semitic counterpart of the West-Semitic Hadad, whom we meet in the RS texts as Ba’a1 [n6 Cf., e.g., Kapelrud, Baal in the Ras Shamra Texts (Copenhagen, 1952), pp. 50-52. The identification of Hadad with Ba'al is clearly expressed in the Amarna letters, cf. the discussion by Gressmann, B.Z.A.W. xxxiii (1918), pp. 191-216, where, however, the conclusions should be supplemented and corrected in the light of the RS texts.]. This would seem to be of special importance as we shall see from what follows.
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In the magnificent picture of Yahweh's epiphany in Hab. iii, the Canaanite background of which was demonstrated by Cassuto in 1938, we read:
Before him Pestilence marched,
and Plague went forth at his feet.
(Hab. iii. 5)
[n1 Transl. Albright, 'The Psalm of Habakkuk', Studies in Old Testament Prophecy Presented to Professor Theodore H. Robinson (Edinburgh, 1950), p. 12. Albright assumes vv. 3-7 to be 'taken with little alteration from a very early Israelite poem on the theophany of Yahweh as exhibited in the south-east storm', and vv. 8-15 to be 'adapted from an early poem or poems of Canaanite origin', op. cit., p. 8.]
We find here two of the bodyguards of the Israelitic high god, Rasaf and Dabar. Of these Rasaf is a well-known west-Semitic deity [n2 Cf. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Baltimore 1946), 3rd ed. 1953, p. 79 with references p. 196 n. 24 (also an article by Vincent, R.B. 1928, pp. 512 ff.). The mythological background of Hab. iii. 5 was pointed out by Oesterley, in Myth and Ritual, pp. 1 19 f. Cf. also my thesis The Accadian and Hebrew Psalms of Lamentation, p. 256. Rasaf is now found also in the Karatepe inscription.], and presumably Dabar is another, minor deity.
In the same poem in Hab. iii the lightnings of Yahweh are also mentioned in verse 11 as His arrows and His spears [n3 This verse causes no philological difficulties.]. The same image of Yahweh as the thundering and lightning god is met with in Pss. xviii. 14-15 and xxix, whose Canaanite background has long been recognized [n4 Cf. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel, p. 129. As to Ps. xxix we refer to Ginsberg, Atti del XIX Congresso Internazionale degli Orientalisti, 1938, pp. 472 ff. As shown by Ginsberg ‘this psalm swarms with Canaanitisms in diction and imagery; there can be no doubt that it is a relatively little changed adaptation of a Baal hymn to the cult of Yahweh, probably in or about the tenth century B.C.', Albright, op. cit., p. 6. In this connexion it should be noted that 'the Sons of God' are found in Ps. xxix. 1.]. In the RS texts Ba’al with his mace and his spear, the symbol of lightning [n5 Cf. Syria, xiv (1933); pl. xvi; Dussaud, Les Decouvertes de Ras Shamra (Ugarit) et l'Ancien Testament (Paris 1937), p. 41.], furnishes us with a good illustration of Hab. iii. 11.
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To the retinue of Yahweh there also belong other divine beings met with in Canaanite mythology, namely the hypostases Saedaeq and Mispat, Sahar and Salom (Salem) [n1 Cf. Widengren, The Accadian and Hebrew Psalms of Lamentation, p. 71; Psalm 110, U.U.A. 1941: 7, 1, p. 10; a detailed discussion in Ringgren, Word and Wisdom, (Uppsala, 1947), pp. 86, 150 ff., where all the divine hypostases are investigated.]. Now Saedaeq and Mispat have their counterparts in the Sydyk and Misor of Philo Byblius (Eusebius, Praeparatio Evang. i. 10, 14), while Sahar and Slm appear in the same form in the Ugaritic poems. There are also traces of another deity, the Dew, Tal, in the Old Testament texts [n2 Cr. Widengren, Psalm 110, pp. 9 ff. Engnell, Studies in Divine Kingship in the Ancient Near East (Uppsala 1943), p. 82 n. 5, has added a reference to proper names composed with tal.].
Enough has been said to show that the oft-repeated saying that the monotheistic spirit of Yahwistic religion did not tolerate any mythology certainly needs some qualification. In older times Israelite religion was a rather complex entity, embracing also—as we have seen—the idea of God surrounded by His divine assembly and council, and accompanied by His bodyguards. In this polytheistic trend there was a tendency to express more fully all the richness of divine essence and to get it more concretely visualized.
We may now proceed to the habitation of Yahweh. This is originally Sinai, but with the conquest of Jerusalem Yahweh also takes His seat on Sion. Now this mountain of Sion is explicitly identified with Safon in Ps. xlviii. 3 [n3 The qualification iarkete safon is given to Sion in spite of the fact that Sion is not at all situated in the north. It is a foreign geographical perspective adapted to Jerusalem as is the case also in Ps. lxxxix. Cf. Gunkel, Die Psalmen (Gottingen 1926), p. 206 (comparing Isa. xiv. 13 f.), and Widengren, Psalm 110, p. 24.]. Here the mountain of the gods is situated, to which we shall now direct our attention. This mountain is the earthly paradise, surrounded by the paradise rivers which stream forth from below it, and including the garden of paradise where Primordial Man is its ruler. God has His seat here on the top of the cosmic mountain which is, as it were, His throne [n4 Selected literature: Wensinck, The Ideas of the Western Semites concerning the Navel of the Earth, Amsterdam 1916; Myth and Ritual, p. 180; Widengren, Psalm 110, pp. 5-7, 15, 24 (literature indicated p. 15 n. 3); The King and the Tree of Life, U.U.A. 1951: 4, pp. 11, 44 f., 56 ff., 64 with fig. 22 on p. 66; Religionens varld, pp. 278 ff.].
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But this mountain of Safon is well known from Ugaritic literature where it plays a central role in mythical cosmography. Here we have the place of the divine assembly where Ba’al is enthroned as ruler [n1 Cf. Eissfeldt, Baal Zaphon, Zeus Kasios und der Durchzug der Israeliten durchs Meer (Halle, 1932), pp. 20 ff.; Kapelrud, op. cit., pp. 57 f. and Joel Studies, U.U.A. 1948: 4, pp. 93-108.]. It seems indisputable that the intruding Israelitic tribes have taken over all this mythical geography from Canaan [n2 Cf. Eissfeldt, op. cit., p. 20: 'Zu den Elementen, die Jahwe anderen Gottern, Kulten und Mythen entwindet und sich zu eigen macht, gehort auch die Vorstellung von einem in den Himmel ragenden Berg, dem Zaphon, der Sitz und Thron des Baals dieses Berges ist; der Baal wird entthront, und Jahwe nimmt seinen Platz ein.'], where it had been introduced in its turn from Mesopotamia. For it is only there that we find it fully elaborated and set in its proper context. Here too we find a common pattern underlying the mythical ideas in question.
As is well known, the Hebrew Paradise story in Gen. ii-iii exhibits all the distinctive features of an original myth; this has been demonstrated by Gunkel with a wealth of evidence that still commands respect [n3 Cf. Gunkel, Genesis, pp. 25-40.]. By comparing it with other Old Testament passages Gunkel was able to show that it had lost much of its original colouring and become emasculated. In the early form of the story Primordial Man is a divine or semi-divine being, the snake a demon, and paradise the abode of God Himself; but in Genesis, while the special properties of the two trees in paradise are retained, that of its water has disappeared, and even the expression 'the Garden of God' is no longer used [n4 Cf. Gunkel, of, cit., p. 39.].
For Gunkel's demonstration the famous passage Ezek. xxviii was of primary importance [n5 cr. Gunkel, op. cit., p. 34; Robinson, Myth and Ritual, pp. 180, 182; Hooke, op. cit., p. 11.]. Because this text from various points of view is still one of the key texts and much labour has been expended on both its textual and ideological elucidation, we quote here in our own translation the relevant passages [n6 A detailed commentary was given in Widengren, Psalm 110, pp. 15 ff.; The Ascension of the Apostle and the Heavenly Book, U.U.A. 1950: 7, pp. 26,94-97.].
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Thou wast a sealer of the preserved (thing), full of wisdom and accomplished in beauty.
In Eden, the Garden of God, thou wast, every precious stone being thy cover, ruby, chrysolith, diamond, topaz, shoham, jasper, sapphire, malachite, beryl, hyacinth, agate, amethyst and gold.
The works of thy settings and thy trappings on thee, the day thou wast created they were prepared. Thou wast a cherub, oh, what an anointed of the Shadower, and I placed thee on the holy mountains.
A god thou wast, in the midst of stones of fire thou didst walk. (Ezek. xxviii. 12-14)
We should note in this text the following important points: in the Garden of God, situated. 'on the holy mountain', there was dwelling a divine being, anointed by God, who is called 'the Shadower', either because the godhead is overshadowing him with his wings (cf. Ps. xvii. 8; lvii. 2; Ixi. 5; Ixxiii. 8) [n1 Cf.. the discussion in Widengren, The Accadian and Hebrew Psalms of Lamentation, p. 253.] or because the deity is thought of as a mighty tree in the shadow of which he is living (cf. Hos. xiv. 9; Ezek. xxxi. 2-9; Dan. iv. 7-9) [n2 Cf. Widengren, The King and the Tree of Life, pp. 56 ff. When not the godhead but the king is depicted with the traits of this symbol we meet with the same phenomenon as in Mesopotamia, where the king as 'Tammuz' has taken over the symbols of this god, cf. Widengren, op. cit., pp. 42. ff.]. This divine being is called a 'cherub' and an 'anointed (one)', the former epithet indicating his association with the garden as its guardian (Gen. iii. 24) and with God as that upon which the Deity rides (Ezek. x. 6 ff.) [n3 For the mythical being called 'Cherub' cf. Lods, Israel des origines au milieu du VIIIe siècle (Paris, 1932.), p. 533. The English transl. was not accessible to me.], the latter his royal status, because he has received his anointing from God—just like a corresponding Mesopotamian figure, the Primordial Man called Adapa [n4 Cf. Widengren, The King and the Tree of Life, pp. 21 n., 59 f.]. And we should not forget that the whole description applies to the king of Tyre (Ezek. xxviii. 1). Accordingly the Phoenician ruler from the point of view of royal ideology is both the guardian of the Garden of God and God's anointed. His garment reflects his wonderful nature, being set with twelve precious stones, and he is walking about in the midst of 'stones of fire', i.e. the stars.
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He was not only 'accomplished in beauty' but also 'full of wisdom', and 'a sealer of the preserved (thing)', just as Marduk in the Mesopotamian Epic of Creation sealed the tablets of destiny, Enuma elis, iv. 122 [n1 This idea lives on in the Jewish notion of the 'heavenly tablets', Enoch xciii. 2.; Book of Jubilees v. 13; xvi. 9; xxxii. 21 and ultimately in the Qur'anic lauh mahfum, cf. Widengren, Muhammad, the Apostle of God and His Ascension, U.U.A. 1955: 1, pp. 117ff.; The Ascension of the Apostle, pp. 27 f., 36ff.]. Actually it can be shown without difficulty that the Primordial Man wears the same pectoral as the Israelite high-priest wears in virtue of his office (Exod. xxviii. 17-20), the twelve jewels in both cases being exactly the same. We know further that Phoenician and Mesopotamian rulers really were equipped with a pectoral [n2 For the following cf. Widengren, Psalm 110, pp. 13 ff.; Sakrales Konigtum in Alten Testament und im Judentum (Stuttgart, 1955), p. 27.]. Such a pectoral has been found in the excavations of Byblos, in the same square form as that worn by the high-priest of Yahweh, and moreover inlaid with twelve (?) stones [n3 Cf. Montet, Byblos et l'Égypte (Paris, 192.9), pi. xciv.]. For this reason it is quite conceivable that the Palestinian princelets before the Israelite conquest of Canaan were equipped with such a pectoral, taken over by the Davidic ruler of Jerusalem. But the mythical significance of this garment lies above all in the fact that the Urim and Thummim, contained in the so-called hosean mispat, correspond to the Mesopotamian Tablets of Destiny. Accordingly Primordial Man, the mythical exemplar of both the Phoenician and Israelitic ruler, was wearing the Heavenly Tablets, deciding the destinies of the world. They were fastened to his breast in a pouch in exactly the same manner as Marduk wore them in Enuma elis, iv. 121-2 (cf. i. 156-7). But these tablets are in reality—as was seen long ago—nothing but the Tablets of Law, delivered by God to Moses [n4 Cf. Widengren, The Ascension of the Apostle, pp. 22. ff.; Psalm 110, p. 19 n. 3 (with references).]. By means of the possession of these Divine Tablets the Primordial Man in paradise in fact was—what he is called—'a sealer of the preserved (thing), full of wisdom'. Here another detail calls for notice. The Israelite king on the day of his enthronement received a copy of the Law,
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that is these same Heavenly Tablets, given by Yahweh to Moses. This is accordingly the perfect ritual counterpart of the mythical conception we have been tracing here. The Israelite king is also as the possessor of the Tablets of Law 'full of wisdom', a proclaimer of God's revealed will. We cannot, however, pursue farther this line of thought [n1 Cf. in addition to Psalm 110, pp. 13 ff., and The Ascension of the Apostle, pp. 22 ff.; also Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 28ff. and above all Y.S.S. ii (1957), pp. 1 ff.]. Here we should only like to point out the fact that the legendary Mesopotamian king Enmeduranki of Sippar on the occasion of his enthronement in the temple Ebarra was given 'the tablets of the gods, the bag with the mystery of heaven and earth' [n2 Cf. Widengren, The Ascension of the Apostle, pp. 7 f.]. For this reason we think that in this case too it has been possible to trace the myth and ritual pattern from Israel via Canaan back to Mesopotamia, even, if in this case the interpretation of the Ugaritic texts does not yield any really reliable results [n3 Attempts to find parallels have not been lacking, cf. Widengren, Psalm 110, p. 13, where Gaster, Iraq, vi (1939), p. 136, is quoted, but cf. on the other hand Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 91 f., where strong scepticism is expressed.].
We have already hinted at the fact that Primordial Man is conceived of as the guardian of paradise. He is therefore also the Gardener par excellence. The paradise garden contained within it not only the Tree of Life but also the Water of Life, a fact inferred from the references collected by Gunkel [n4 Cf. Gunkel, Genesis, p. 36,with the following references: Ezek. xlvii. 1-12; Joel iv. 18; Zech. xiv. 8; Rev. xxii. 1 f. cf. further Widengren, Psalm 110, pp. 23 f., with reference to Ps. xlvii. 5, and Sakrales Konigtum, p. 104 (a slip there should be corrected: the text of course should be read [HEB].]. For the ritual background of this mythical conception it is important to note that we find in Palestine a connexion between water and tree, between temple basin and sacred grove, which clearly reflects the Water of Life and Tree of Life in paradise. Once more we are carried back to Mesopotamia where this association has its special raison d' etre in the Ea-Eridu circle [n5 Cf. Widengren, The King and the Tree of Life, p. 36.].
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Primordial Man as the Gardener is a widespread mythic-ritual conception in the ancient Near East, especially associated with royal ideology. The king in Mesopotamia, for example, is the living representative of the mythical Gardener in paradise [n1 Widengren, Op. cit., pp. 9 ff.]. The Tyrian ruler, as the incarnation of Primordial Man in paradise, carries on this mythical tradition and in the Israelite combination of Primordial Man and ruler the idea is still living, the Saviour-King of future Messianic times having acquired traits which connect him with the First Man, Adam [n2 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. ii (1943), pp. 71, 74. A detailed elaboration of this idea was later on given by Bentzen, Messias-Moses Redivivus-Menschensohn (Zurich, 1948). The English transl. King and Messiah (London, 1955), was not accessible to me.]. In the Ugaritic text depicting the life of the hero Krt, the high god El is called ab adm, 'the father of Adam (Mankind)'. Adam, Primordial Man, is accordingly the son of El.
Curiously enough, the sacral king may be looked upon symbolically not only as the Custodian of the Tree of Life, a branch of which he is carrying in his hand as his scepter [n3 Cf. Widengren, The King and the Tree of Life, pp. 27 ff.], but even as this tree itself [n4 Cf. Widengren, op cit., pp. 49 ff.]. Obviously this holds true of both Syrian-Canaanite and Israelite culture. Above all would seem to be important in this case the idea of the coming Saviour-King as 'the Shoot', saemah, a notion found in Phoenician inscriptions as well as in the Old Testament. There is even an exact parallel to 'the righteous shoot' (Jer. xxiii. 5; xxxiii. 15) in Phoenician inscriptions, where the same term is found [n5 Cf. Widengren, op cit., pp. 51 f., [HEB] corresponding to Phoenician [HEB].], as we might have expected, for this mythical idea a wider context is to be seen also in Mesopotamia [n6 Cf. Widengren, op. cit., pp. 42 ff.]. It was one of Gunkel's special merits to have devoted a great monograph, now a classic, to the investigation of Yahweh's activity as a creator [n7 Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos. Gunkel's methods were criticized by no less a person than Wellhausen in his Skizzen und Vorarbeiten (Berlin 1899), vi. 225 ff., so far as the interpretation of apocalyptic literature was concerned. But in this case, too, Gunkel on the whole saw more clearly than Wellhausen, whose criticisms were answered by Gunkel, Zum religionsgeschichtlichen Verstandnis des Neuen Testaments (Gottingen, 1903), pp. 11 ff. Wellhausen's criticisms were quoted with approval by Bentzen, Moses Redivivus-Messias-Menschensohn, p. 24, evidently without knowledge of Gunkel's refutation. Actually what Gunkel has to say in this connexion is in our day still more relevant (against Bentzen and Mowinckel). Of modern studies on this theme we may mention Gray, Transact. Glasgow Univ. Oriental Society, xiv (1950-2), pp. 47 ff.]
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He has no difficulty in reconstructing an old Israelite myth, according to which Yahweh had conquered the Primordial Dragon—the rebellious waters of Primeval Chaos—split it asunder, and created cosmos out of chaos. For the necessary background of his reconstructive work, by means of which he had to piece together many mythical fragments and allusions in the Old Testament, Gunkel out of sheer necessity was forced to rely almost exclusively on Mesopotamian mythical poems, above all on the great Epic of Creation, Enuma elis. In our days, thanks to the important new Ugaritic material, we are in a position to compare the Israelite myth with corresponding Canaanite mythical themes. Actually this may be said to be the point of contact where we are able to analyse with most reliability the historical connexions between Israel and Canaan.
The locus classicus for Yahweh's fight against the Dragon is found in the Psalms and was quoted by Oesterley in his essay on 'Early Hebrew Festival Rituals' [n1 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 129 and Robinson, op. cit., p. 176 n. 3 (only a reference).].
God is my King from of old,
achieving victories in the midst of the earth.
Thou didst split in twain the Sea in thy strength,
Thou didst break in pieces the heads of the dragons in the waters.
Thou didst smash the heads of Leviathan,
Thou wilt give him for food, for food to the people of the desert.
Thou didst cleave fountain and flood,
Thou didst dry up ancient rivers.
(Ps. lxxiv. 12-15)
[n2 Some slight changes have been introduced in the translation given by Oesterley.
The conjecture [HEB] in Kohler-Baumgartner, Lexicon, p. 715 b, 'to the sharks of the sea' apart from philological difficulties—the word being only hypothetically constructed—only yields a rather trivial meaning.]
The best-known name for this redoubtable enemy of Yahweh is Leviathan, which we meet with in this passage. Another name for the Dragon is Rahab, found, for example, in another famous passage, Ps. lxxxix. 10- 15.
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Here emphasis is laid on the great deed of creation which Yahweh achieved by conquering Rahab. A third term is Behemoth, met with, for instance, in Ps. lxviii. 30, as 'the beast of the reeds', to quote what is probably the oldest extant passage.
The great Primordial Dragon is accompanied by other serpent- or dragon-like monsters, Tanninim, the leader of which is sometimes called Tannin, taken in the sense of a proper name. We may refer to Ps. lxxiv. 13 f. (already quoted) and Job vii. 12. Now these accompanying monsters are often called 'the helpers of Rahab', ‘ozre Rahab:
God doth not turn back his anger,
the helpers of Rahab did stoop under him.
(Job ix. 13)
But we also meet with more general designations such as Tehom, 'the Deep', or the Sea, Yam, or River, Nahar [n1 A survey of the different terms is found in Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, pp. 30 ff., 41 ff., 61 ff., 69 ff., 81 f., 91 ff., 97; Genesis, p. 121; Robinson, Myth and Ritual, p. 176. For the terms for 'Sea' cf. above all Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, pp. 91 ff.]. We may compare for Tehom the most famous of all creation-texts, Gen. i. 2 (and Ps. civ. 6); for Yam and Nahar the magnificent description of the divine epiphany in Hab. iii. (already alluded to), where we read in verse 8:
Is against the River(s) enflamed, oh Yahweh,
yea, against the River(s) thy wrath,
or against the Sea thine anger?
(Hab. iii. 8)
[n2 The Hebrew text runs: [HEB] I think we can translate the MT as it stands. For this reason I cannot follow Albright. in his very drastic reconstruction of the text, cf. Studies in Old Testament Prophecy, p. 11, though he may be quite right in reading the sg. [HEB] (with enclitic [HEB]), the plur. used in v. 9 being [HEB]. On the other hand Hebrew, like other Semitic languages, prefers variation. It should be mentioned that Albright's emendations on the whole have no support in the versions. Cf. also the general trend in Mowincke1's article in Theologische Zeitschrift, ix (1953), pp. 1-23.]
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Special details call for notice. Thus we should first of all note that Leviathan has several heads, Ps. lxxiv. 14. Secondly, when conquering the Sea-Dragon or the Deep, Yahweh before the fight rebukes, ga’ar, his adversary. So in the following passage:
He rebuketh the Sea and drieth it up,
and the rivers he causeth to run dry.
(Nah. i. 4)
For this motif we should also compare such passages as Ps. civ. 7; cvi. 9 and Isa. xvii. 13 [n1 Cf. Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, p. 108; Haldar, Studies in the Book of Nahum, U.U.A. 1946: 7, pp. 99 ff.].
Thirdly the epithets of Leviathan, nahas bariah ‘aqallaton, Isa. xxvii. 1, deserve special mention.
As will soon be seen these three details are of primary importance. Gunkel when writing his monograph had access only to Mesopotamian material, Phoenician texts at that time being non-existent. Now, thanks to the RS texts, we are able to check the results achieved by Gunkel.
We may, then, state that, as the result of recent comparative researches into the Hebrew myth of the Dragon-fight and the corresponding motifs in Ugaritic mythological texts, a perfect parallelism between the two has been demonstrated. It has been rightly said that we meet here with one of the most striking points of agreement between Ugarit and Israel [n2 Cf. Baumgartner, Th.R., N.F. xiii (1941), p. 162.]. The text III AB especially furnishes us with many details of the fight between the high god Ba’al and his opponent Prince Sea, Zabul Yam [n3 Text published U.H., no. 129+137+68; transl. U.L., pp. 11-I7; A.N.E.T., pp. 129-31. The 'historical' interpretation tentatively proposed by Obermann. J.A.O.S. lxvii (1947). pp. 205 f. would hardly seem to be acceptable in the light of comparative evidence from Israel and Mesopotamia.]. There are, however, in the other texts also some allusions to the same myth, so that we can elucidate the three points in the Hebrew myths just singled out as especially significant. Thus we find that the exact equivalent of Leviathan, here called (Lawtan>) Lotan, is described as having seven heads, slyt dsb’t rasm, Anat. iii. 39. He is further called ltn bsn brh/bsn ‘qltn,
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A i. 1-3, 27-30, and accordingly receives the same epithets as in the Old Testament [n1 On the meaning of brh = bareah cf. the discussion in Albright. Studies in Old
Testament Prophecy. p. 2 n. 9. where he argues with good reason for the meaning 'primordial'. It is usually rendered 'fleeing. gliding'. so in Kohler-Baumgartner, Lexicon. p. 149 b.]. The verb 'rebuke', g’r, also recurs in the same myth, though not exactly in the situation we should expect. Here we still have to rely on the passage Enuma elis, iv. 76 ff., where Marduk before engaging in the battle with Tiamat makes his accusations against her [n2 Already observed by Gunkel. Schopfung und Chaos. p. 113: 'Scheltrede'.]. The 'helpers' of Rahab likewise have their only counterpart in the 'helpers' of Tiamat [n3 Observed by Gunkel, op. cit.. p. 38; cf. Enuma elis., 105 ff.; as in Job ix. 13, they are not killed but subdued and fettered.], who by the way is the Accadian etymological counterpart of Tehom, as was seen long ago [n4 Tehom = *tiham, cf. Arabic tihamatun: Accadian ti’amat. One could of course, invoke the fact that Prince Sea in the Ugaritic poem has his helpers. i.e. his 'pages' or 'knights' (not 'lads') who act as his messengers, but we do not know whether they assist him in battle.].
We should also observe that Ugaritic material confirms the view that various myths, circling around the motif of the fight against the Sea, had been spread in Canaan and taken over by the Israelites. Thus, for example, the battle against the River is obviously an independent myth in both Ugaritic and Israelite mythology, though it was ultimately merged in the other myths of the fight against Primordial Ocean.
This mythical battle in the Old Testament texts is described as ending in Yahweh's victory over his enemies, followed by his creation of the world, Gen. i (and many other passages) [n5 Cf. Ps. civ. 5-9. and the commentary given by Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, pp. 91 ff.. where related passages are quoted.]. There is, moreover, another myth of creation, describing the original state of the scene of the Creator's activities as 'an uninhabited waste, untilled by man, and without rain or the vegetation which rain produces' [n6 Hooke, In the Beginning (Oxford. 1948). p. 24.]. This myth, too, has a clear Canaanite background, the fertilization of the soil being thought of as dependent upon the rains sent by Yahweh to bring fertility [n7 Cf. Hooke, op. cit., p. 24 f.; Gunkel, Genesis, p. 5.].
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There also comes forth from the ground a river or a source of water, ed, watering the whole surface of the earth, adamah. Then Yahweh formed earthly Man, adam, out of earth, adamah, as dust, 'apar. This statement with its play upon adam and adamah indicates that Man was fashioned by God from the red dry particles of earth, adamah meaning the red arable soil [n1 Cf. Kohler-Baumgartner, Lexicon, s.v. [HEB], p. 12 a (the Ethiopic word 'adama is misprinted), and s.v. [HEB], p. 13 a.]. Now this pun takes us of course back to Canaan, where we find adam not only as the designation of mankind but also as the name of a deity of earth [n2 Cf. Lidzbarski, N.G.G.W., Phil.-hist. KI. (Gottingen, 1916), pp. 90 f.], and where in the RS texts El is called 'ab adam, as was indicated above [n3 Cf. above, p. 169. For Phoenician [HEB], man, cf. Harris, of. cit., p. 74.]. This manner of creating mankind by fashioning a being out of the dust of earth is a well-known theme in Mesopotamian mythology [n4 Cf. the manner in which Aruru created Man, A.N.E.T., p. 437 (the Ludlul bel nimeqi text) = Langdon, Babylonian Wisdom (London, 1923), p. 63, and above all the Epic of Gilgames, I CoI. ii. 34. In this case the material is clay, cf. Dhorme, La Religion assyro-babylonienne, pp. 183 f.] and we are taken back once more to Mesopotamian mythical stories, at the same time clearly discerning the specific Canaanite colour of the narrative in Genesis ii f.
While one tradition (Gen. i. 26) considers this Primordial Man the image of God, another statement (Gen. ii. 7), which we have just mentioned, says that Yahweh breathed into him His breath of life. At any rate the connexion between God and Primordial Man is very intimate and we may find here a faint trace of the original Canaanite idea according to which El was the father of Adam, Mankind. Primordial Man would then be entitled to be called the Son of God, as has been noted already. We saw that for this mythical conception a ritual association was found in so far as the king was looked upon as a living incarnation or representative of this Primordial Man. Now, certain hints in both Ugaritic and Old Testament texts would seem to indicate that the ruler as son of the godhead was given the special designation of 'firstborn', cf. Ps. lxxxix. 28, where God gives the following proclamation concerning David:
I shall put him as the Firstborn,
as the Highest one for the kings of earth.
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This proclamation assumes that it is possible to elevate a person to the position of the firstborn (cf. the story of Esau and Jacob). Actually in the Ugaritic Krt text the same institution appears in a context which shows a remarkable coincidence with Ps. lxxxix. 28 [n1 Cf. Krt. iii. 13-19:
Be most exalted, oh Krt!
In the midst of the Rephaim of the earth,
in the assembly of the gathering of Datan,
I shall make the youngest of them the firstborn.
A detailed commentary cannot be given here; it may suffice to point to the legend 1 Sam. xvi, where David as the youngest of Jesse's eight sons is elevated above them. In the Krt text 'seven, yea eight' sons are announced to Krt (the number 'seven, yea eight' being significant). For the notion of the firstborn cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, p. 54. The connexion with the Datan of Num. xvi is still enigmatic. Gordon, Introduction to Old Testament Times (Ventnor, N.J., 1953), p. 294, pointed out the general agreement between the Ugaritic and Old Testament passages. The Ugaritic text, however, refers to a female being.]. What is of primary importance is the fact that Krt is depicted entirely as a Primordial King. The connexion between Primordial Man and the actual ruler for this reason cannot be doubted and therefore the mythical conception of paradise and Primeval Man has played a considerable role in royal ideology, the king being as it were the Son of God, just because he is the representative of Primordial Man [n2 Cf. above, p. 169 n. 2, the references to the opinions of Widengren and Bentzen.]. Such is the case in Mesopotamia too, where the king may be styled, 'man, the son of his god' [n3 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. ii (1943), p. 55.].
The creation story of Genesis is enacted during seven days and this fact has been compared to the seven tablets of the Babylonian Epic of Creation as well as with the seven days of the Israelitic Festival of Booths. It has been surmised by Humbert that the Hebrew story of creation was used as a cult text or at least served 'a liturgical purpose' [n4 Cf. Humbert, R.H.Ph.R. xv (1935), pp. 1-27, and Hooke, In the Beginning, p. 36, whence I have borrowed the expression 'a liturgical purpose'.]. For this hypothesis the close resemblance between part of the creation story in Genesis and Ps. civ with its unmistakable liturgical background is a strong argument.
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Loosely attached to the stories of creation and origins are other mythical fragments and allusions as, for example, the Fall of the Angels and the story of the Great Flood.
The Fall of the Angels is preserved in the Old Testament in a very fragmentary state but the Ethiopic Book of Enoch gives some supplementary details which cannot possibly be ascribed to the imagination of later generations. The passage in I Enoch vi. 1 ff. is also of considerable interest because it is held to belong to an Apocalypse of Noah, of which fragments are found in I Enoch. Especially valuable is the fact that the angels are located on Mount Hermon, thus furnishing us with a definite local background to the myth in question. Conceivably a clear indication is found here of a Sidonian or Tyrian origin of this myth which accordingly would seem to have been taken over by the Israelites from the former inhabitants of Canaan as is the case with so many other Hebrew myths. It should not be forgotten that Hermon is definitely outside Israelite territory in Palestine; at the same time it plays a role in some psalms for which a North-Israelite adaptation of Canaanite psalms may be presumed [n1 Cf. Morgenstern, The Mythological Background, pp. 113 f., and in general, pp. 86 ff.]. Similarly the famous myth of Helal ben Sahar and his casting down belongs to the circle of myths treating of the fall of divine beings [n2 Cf. Gunkel, Schopfung und Chaos, pp. 132.-4.].
In his essay on 'Hebrew Myths' in Myth and Ritual, Professor Theodore Robinson made the following statement when dealing with some special topics of the myth and ritual pattern. It deserves quoting in full:
We turn now to another, which springs out of the Creation myth, and which seems to have exercised a very deep influence on the cultus, not only of Mesopotamia, but also of Palestine. This is the 'Tammuz' story. It suggests the annual death and renewal of nature, and is thus, in a sense, a development of the Creation myth itself. Two elements are prominent in it, that of the dying god and that of the divine marriage which assures the fertility of the earth for the ensuing year.
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This subject has been closely studied in recent years, and it is generally (though not universally) agreed that a ritual involving a dying God, a divine marriage, and a ceremonial procession, was found in Israel. It would be strange if it were not so, for some such ceremonial is almost universal among agricultural peoples, though in many instances it has lost one or more of its characteristic features.
[n1 Cf. Myth and Ritual, pp. 183 f. Cf. also Hyatt, The Journal of Bible and Religion, 1942., pp. 67-75, and especially p. 74, where he says: 'The myth of the dying-rising god was undoubtedly known to the Hebrews and there are many passages in which it is possible to see echoes or influences of the various elements in this myth. The following passages are offered as possibilities: (a) the death of the god, Hos. v. 6-7; v. 13-vi. 3; xiii. 1 ff.; (b) the mourning rites, Hos. vii. 14-16; I Kings xviii. 28; Jer. vi. 26; xvi. 6; Ezek. viii. 14; Amos viii. 10; Joel i. 8; Zech. xii. 10 f.; Judges xi. 38ff.; (c) the search for the god, Hos. ii. 7 f. ; x. 12.; and (d) the resurrection of the god, Hos. vi. 2.; xi. 7; xiii. 14.']
Professor Robinson then goes on to point out 'that the representation of the sacred marriage involved features which were repulsive in the extreme to the mind of the nomadic element in Israel'. He further thinks that 'some of the practices eliminated by Josiah seem to have been associated with this cult'. As to the traces left in the Old Testament of such a mythology he rightly observes that 'for the most part we have to rely for our information on occasional references whose full import is realized only in the light of comparative mythology' [n2 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 184.]. I should like to emphasize this methodological remark with which I fully agree but which is obviously not everywhere accepted [n3 Cf. Johnson, E. T. (1950) p. 41. I hope to be able to discuss in another connexion the questions of method in the field of Old Testament exegesis.].
Professor Robinson further proceeds to enumerate the general indications of the once existing sacred marriage in the Israelite myth and ritual pattern. He refers to Ps. xviii. 11 and Isa. iv. 6, where he finds a possible references to a 'booth', 'which', as he states, 'may have been originally derived from one feature of the festival'. He points out secondly the fact that it has 'been conjectured that the Song of Songs is based on a collection of hymns used in this ritual'. In this case he is, of course, alluding above all to Professor Meek's epoch-making articles. And he further mentions that 'it has, again, been plausibly suggested that much of Hosea's language and metaphor is based on this cult', referring
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to the pioneering article of Professor May. Lastly he emphasizes the often overlooked fact that in the Jewish community possessing the temple at Elephantine in Egypt in the fifth century a goddess Anat was worshipped in association with Yahweh, obviously 'carried by the Jewish immigrants from Palestine into Egypt with Yahweh' [n1 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 185.].
After these observations the following conclusion is offered.
From our Old Testament alone we should never have guessed that Israel associated a goddess with, Yahweh, even popularly, but the conclusion is irresistible, and we are justified in assuming that she played her part in the mythology and ritual of Israel. It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that rites, similar to those found elsewhere, were observed in pre-exilic Israel, and that these included a recital or a representation of the annual marriage of Jahweh and Anath. Details are entirely lacking, and no useful purpose would be served here by endeavouring to supply them conjecturally; the bare fact is sufficient to suggest that the normal pattern was broadly followed [n2 Ibid., pp. 185 f.].
We might compare this statement with that given by Professor Hooke in his Schweich lectures of 1935 (published 1938). There he stresses three main points: the original significance of the booths made of greenery at the Feast of Tabernacles, the existence of a goddess Anat-Jahu in Elephantine, and 'the very frequent occurrence in the prophetic literature of the representations of the relation between Yahweh and Israel as that of husband and wife', which according to his opinion, 'bears indirect evidence of the sacred marriage as part of Hebrew ritual at an earlier period' [n3 Cf. Hooke, The Origins of Early Semitic Ritual (London, 1938), pp. 54 f.].
Comparing this conclusion with that arrived at by Robinson we observe at once the general agreement. The reference to the Song of Songs has been dropped but references to the erotic symbols in the book of Hosea are also adduced by Hooke.
In the same year as Professor Hooke published his Schweich lectures there was printed in Copenhagen a most important book which, being accessible only in Danish, has by no means received
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from scholars outside Scandinavia the attention that it deserves. This is Professor Hvidberg's monograph Weeping and Laughter [n1 Hvidberg, Graad og Latter i det Gamle Testamente (Copenhagen, 1938).].
Hvidberg takes as his point de depart the traces of an older ritual in Israel, but he is of course of the opinion that these ritual ceremonies presupposed certain myths with which they were linked. From the point of view of method his starting-point is in every case Ugaritic literature, which he has subjected to a careful analysis, stating that in the mythical and ritual life as expressed in these texts there were two emotional climaxes, that of laughter, associated with the celebration of the resurrection of the deity and his sacred marriage, and that of weeping, attached to the death of the deity [n2 Hvidberg, op. cit., p. 7.]. The allusions to a ritual weeping and laughing found in the Old Testament are generally so intertwined that it is difficult to isolate them from each other. We are therefore in most cases referred to passages mentioning both jubilation and sorrow, e.g. Hos. x. 5-8 [n3 Hvidberg, op. cit., pp. 82 ff.]. The celebration of the Feast of Tabernacles according to Neh. viii. 10 included eating of the choicest food, drinking of the sweetest wine, giving of gifts, and above all 'joy of Yahweh', haedwat Jahwaeh [n4 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., p. 85.]. Psalm cxxvi has also been invoked by Hvidberg as a cultic reminiscence of the mythical situation, depicted in the text I AB i. 16 f. (with its presupposed jubilation over the resurrection, belonging to a context which is unfortunately lost to us):
Restore, Yahweh, our fate like that of the streams in Negeb.
They that sow in tears, they reap with jubilation.
Weeping he goeth forth, bearing the bag of seed,
he cometh home with jubilation, bearing his sheaves.
(Ps. cxivi. 4-6)
[n5 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., p. 115.]
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To the references given by Hvidberg to Hosea we should add those adduced by May, who has treated such passages in the book of Hosea where possible allusions to the death and resurrection of the godhead are to be found [n1 Cf. May, A.J.S.L. xlviii (1931-2), pp. 73-98.]. Other contributions in the same direction were made by Graham as far as the book of Micah is concerned [n2 Cf. Graham, A.J.S.L. xlvii (1930-1), pp. 237-58.].
The mythical-ideological background of the symbol of marriage between Yahweh and Israel has been analysed by Nyberg in connexion with his studies on the book of Hosea. He stresses the fact that a central role in Semitic tribal culture is played by the worship of the divine ancestor, ‘amm, who is the chief deity of the tribe. In Old Testament proper names compounds with ‘amm are common (such a name as ‘Ammiel, 'My Amm is El', being significant, we may add, as referring to the position held by El as the father of Man) [n3 Cf. above, p. 169.]. The tribe according to this ideology is looked upon as the outcome of the legitimate marriage between the god-ancestor and a wife, herself a divine being and the common mother of the whole tribe, in a way the personified tribe, the tribe as a collective entity [n4 Cf. Nyberg, U.U.A. 1941: 7, 2, pp. 26 ff.]. In Hosea this idea is coupled with the notion of a covenant entered into by Yahweh, the lover, who seeks His bride and after finding her concludes a legitimate marriage with her. Israel, when deserting the worship of Yahweh, commits the sin of adultery, so often sharply rebuked by the prophets [n5 Cf. Nyberg, op. cit., p. 28. On p. 30 we find the observation that Yahweh is jealous, the root [HEB] being used in this very meaning, with references to Gen. xxx. 1 ; Num. v. 14; Song of Songs, viii. 6.].
Nyberg did not refer in clear words to the ritual background of this idea, but it goes without saying that the ritual aspect is of primary importance in this respect, because it shows us how the festival of the sacred marriage could be understood in Yahwistic circles in Israel.
Indeed, some of the epithets given to Israel, to Ephraim, to Judah, or to Sion are most significant, for in Hos. iv. 16 Israel is likened to a young cow, parah, and Ephraim to a heifer, aeglah. We should compare here the fact that Yahweh was worshipped in northern Israel as a bull [n6 For Yahweh worshipped as a bull in Dan and Bethel cf. the well-known text 1 Kings xii. 28-29; further Hos. iv. 15; Exod. xxxii. 4, 8. The interpretation of Albright (and of others before him), Archaeology and the Religion of Israel, p. 156, that the image was thought of only as the postament of the godhead is in itself attractive, but it overlooks the words of Aaron, Exod. xxxii. 4: 'This is Thy God Israel' How could this be said if the deity were invisible and not at all to be seen in the symbol of the bull? Cf. Hempel, Gott und Mensch im Alten Testament, 2nd ed. (Stuttgart, 1936), pp. 265 f.; Z.A.W. lvii (1939), p. 77.], and that in Ugaritic
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mythology Ba’al is the young bull, the calf (El being the old bull), while ‘Anat is symbolized as the heifer or a young cow, exactly corresponding terms being used, prt and glt [n1 Cf. the passage I .AB v. 17-19.]. In Israel other female symbols too occur in the texts. Judah is called 'a virgin', and so is Sion and also Israel, Jer. xviii. 13; xxxi. 4, 21; Amos v. 2. But in the RS texts even the goddess ‘Anat can be depicted also as a young woman and called 'the virgin ‘Anat', btlt ‘nt [n2 About twenty-five passages, registered by Pritchard, 'Palestinian Figurines in Relation to Certain Goddesses known through Literature', A.O.S., xxiv, 1943.].
Another designation given especially to Sion is that of 'bringer of good tidings', mebassaraet, Isa. xl. 9, which also corresponds to the epithet given to ‘Anat in Ugarit where she is the bringer of good tidings, bsrt [n3 Cf. the passage IV AB iii. 34-35.].
It is hardly possible to believe that these epithets, still found—at least partly—within their mythic-ritual context, were not taken over by Yahwistic circles from the ancient Canaanite cultus.
In this connexion the interpretation of the Song of Songs gains renewed importance. It has been shown that the description of the hut given there (i. 16) quite fits the ritual pattern found in Mesopotamia, where the arbour for the celebration of the sacred marriage between the king and the goddess is described in Sumerian royal liturgies [n4 Cf. Widengren, Religionens varld, p. 192; Mesopotamian Elements, p. 113. Gressmann, The Expositor, Ser. 9: 3 (1925), p. 431 was unaware of the existence of such an arbour but rightly surmised its existence.]. The hut in the Song of Songs is just an arbour of the same kind:
Behold, thou art fait, my beloved, yea, pleasant,
and our bed is green.
The beams of our house are cedar,
and cypresses our rafters.
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That it is said of Yahweh that He possessed His 'hut', sukk, Ps. lxxvi. 3 or His 'booth', sukkah, Ps. xxvii. 5, in Jerusalem, has been stressed before in this connexion by Oesterley [n1 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 136 with a reference to Thackeray, The Septuagint and Jewish Worship, Schweich Lectures 1921, p. 69. For the passage in question cf. Midrash Rabbah, Genesis, transl. by H. Freedman (London, 1939), i, p. 500. Detailed discussion in Riesenfeld, Jésus transfiguré (Uppsala, 1947), pp. 146 ff.]. Obviously Yahweh at the Feast of Booths, Sukkot, like His worshippers had an arbour, sukkah, to dwell in [n2 Beside Myth and Ritual, p. 136 cf. also Gressmann, op. cit., pp. 423 ff.].
In Israelite Canaan we accordingly find both the tabernacle of greenery and the male deity living in it during the Sukkot festival. But can the passage in the Song of Songs i. 16 really allude to the sacred marriage? When trying to answer this question we must first of all bear in mind the fact that it has already been indicated that Yahweh possessed a consort in the goddess 'Anat. The mythical fragment in Ps. xix. 5-6 hints at the wedding chamber, for it is said of God, El:
For the Sun he has there set up a tent,
and as a bridegroom he is going forth from the canopy,
rejoicing as a hero to run a course.
[n3 In the text [HEB] in v. 5 creates some difficulty. It is generally understood as referring to [HEB] in v. 1. Cf. the commentaries.]
That in this passage we have to do with a mythical fragment from 'a morning hymn, praising the glory of El in the heavens' would seem to be generally recognized [n4 This characterization is borrowed from Briggs, The Book of Psalms, I.C.C. i. 162.]. We should also note here that El himself is not the bridegroom, but the Sun, thus a god, inferior to El, with the original Canaanite hymn taken over by the Israelites [n5 For the adaptation of Canaanite psalms in general cf. Albright, Studies in Old Testament Prophecy, pp. 3 if. Cf. above p. 163 n. 4.]. It is thus a younger god who in this place is thought of as the partner in the Hieros Gamos [n6 Cf. in general Engnell, Studies in Divine Kingship, pp. 9, 22, 54 f., 171, but also my critical remarks R.o.B. ii (1943), pp. 66 f.]. Important also is the fact that we meet with the wedding hut in clearly mythical surroundings.
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That the divine bride must have been such a goddess as 'Anat or Astart, a figure of much the same type, stands to reason [n1 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948),pp. 23 f.].
The latter goddess was officially worshipped by Solomon in her special form as the deity of the Sidonians, I Kings xi. 5, a fact very often overlooked in modern discussion. In much later times there was a goddess called the Queen of Heaven(s), to whom official sacrifices were offered by kings and princes, both in Jerusalem and in other cities of Judah, Jer. xliv. I7—one more fact that discussion seemingly is inclined to pass by in silence. Now, this Queen of Heaven(s) cannot possibly be any other goddess than Astart, who accordingly as late as c. 600 enjoyed official worship in the kingdom of Judah.
That the sacred marriage should bring as its fruit the birth of the Saviour-King is in accordance with the general myth and ritual pattern and for this reason we will now try to analyse some relevant passages in Old Testament literature, where we find this royal-divine birth alluded to. Here the pre-natal history of Isaac comes to the fore [n2 It has been alluded to in two short notices by Engnell, Studies, p. 133 n. 7, where it is referred, in connexion with Isa. vii. 14 inter alia, to Gen. xvii. 19 and he says: 'In reality it is conceivably the divine-royal euangelion-formula'; cf. also p. 175 n. 4 with a reference to Gen. xxi. I. Obermann, 'How Daniel was blessed with a Son. An incubation scene in Ugaritic', P.A.O.S., Offprint Series, No. 20 (New Haven, 1946), p. 28 n. 64, in connexion with his investigations in the Ugaritic motif found in the Aqhat text (published by Virolleaud, La Légende phénicienne de Danel, Paris, 1936), gave more attention to the birth of Isaac, underlining some resemblances to the RS texts. The stylistic analysis of the birth oracles owes much to Humbert's article, AfO. x (1935), pp. 77 ff. He did not, however, think of the same 'setting in life' as that worked out by me in my article R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 28 ff. (thanks to a comparison with corresponding Egyptian oracles, quoted below).]. The traditions in question are now scattered over the chapters Gen. xvii-xviii and xxi, the literary analysis of which must be postponed to another occasion.
The birth-oracle given by God, Elohim, to Abraham, is as it were a model oracle of the birth-oracles of the Old Testament in general, for when God promises a son to Abraham He says:
Nay, but Sarah, thy wife is bearing to thee a son,
and thou shalt call his name Yishaq.
I shall establish my covenant with him,
for a covenant in eternity for his seed after him.
(Gen. xvii. 19)
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In this oracle from the deity we meet with three stylistic elements, always recurring in this connexion [n1 Cf. Widengren, Op. cit., p. 31, compared with p. 29.]: (1) Communication concerning the conception. (2) Order concerning the child's name. (3) Prediction concerning the coming deeds of the child.
The continuation of the action is easily found in. Gen. xviii. 1 ff., especially vv. 9-14. Here we have the description of the visit paid by God together with his two followers. When Abraham had entertained his unknown guests it is related that they asked for his wife Sarah, whereupon Abraham pointed to his tent, where she was standing. God now promised her a son, but Sarah, listening to His words 'laughed within herself', whereupon God repeated his promise, Gen. xviii. 14. The happy fulfilment does not follow until the beginning of chapter xxi, where it is said:
And Yahweh visited Sarah, as he had said, and Yahweh did to Sarah as he had talked. And Sarah conceived and bore to Abraham a son to his old age, at the time about which God had spoken to him. And Abraham called the name of his son born unto him, whom Sarah had born unto him, Yishaq.
(Gen. xxi. 1-3)
Now it is a well-established fact that Middle Hebrew uses the verb paqad not only in the sense of 'visit', but also. with a special meaning, namely to visit a woman in the sexual sense of the word [n2 Cf. Levy, Neuhebraisches und Chaldaisches Worterbuch, s.v. [HEB]; for the meaning of 'visit' in general cf. 1 Sam. xvii. 18.]. If this special shade of meaning is assumed in this place the original meaning of the passage in question would be that the visiting deity had sexual intercourse with Sarah. It is generally recognized that Sarah is to be understood as sarah, the same word as Akkadian sarratum, meaning queen, princess [n3 Noldeke, Im Neuen Reich, i. 1 (1871), pp. 509 f., was of this opinion.]. This interpretation would imply an Israelitic adaptation of an ancient Canaanite tradition of the visit of a deity to the queen, the sacred marriage, the oracle about the birth of the royal-divine child, the naming of the child, and the prophesying of its
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future great deeds, and last of all the account of the birth itself. In the light of what has been said before about the sexual meaning of the 'laughter’, the root being sahaq, the various puns on this root in our traditions and the very name of Yishaq call for special notice.
While discussing the same topic we may briefly mention such passages as the birth-oracle given to the wife of Manoah, concerning the birth of Samson (one more example of the mythical elements in the Samson story) [n1 Cf. the discussion in Burney, The Book of Judges, 2nd ed. (London, 1930), pp. 391 ff.], Judges xiii. 3-5, and to Hannah, 1 Sam. i, two oracles deserving more space than can be allotted to them in this essay, in order to pass on to the famous, much discussed text Isa. vii. 14-17 [n2 All these oracles (but in Genesis only xvi. 11 ff.) were treated by Humbert, op. cit., pp. 77 ff.], which must be quoted here in full because of its importance.
Therefore, the Lord himself will give to you a sign:
Behold, the young woman is pregnant and beareth a son,
and calleth his name 'God-with-us' (Immanuel).
Curds and honey shall he eat,
when he knoweth to reject the bad and choose the good.
For before the boy knoweth to reject the bad and choose the good,
shall be deserted the land, of whose two kings thou art in dread.
Yahweh shall bring upon thee and upon thy people and upon the
house of thy father
days such as have not come since the day, when Ephraim with-
drew from Judah.
[n3 For a detailed exegesis of this text cf. Hammershaimb, S. T. iii (1951), pp. 124 ff., with whom I agree in all essentials. His interpretation has been criticized by Stamm, P. T. iv (1954), pp. 20 ff. I trust the impossibility of Stamm's position will be further made clear by the present exposition with its comparative material. My preliminary remarks on Isa. vii. 14-17 were presented R.o.B. vii (1948), p. 33.]
That this oracle belongs to the same category as the other birth-oracles has already been stated by Humbert [n4 Cf. Humbert, op. cit., p. 78.]. The latest example of the same pattern is actually found in the birth story of the Gospels, the general Jewish background of which was emphasized also by Gunkel.
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Here again we meet the constantly recurring three points of prediction [n1 Cf. Gunkel, Festgabe fur A. Von Harnack (Tubingen, 1921), pp. 43-60. Humbert ends his exposition with the oracles given to Mary in the Gospels. The Semitic background enables us to clear up a philological difficulty, cf. Widengren, op. cit., pp. 34 f., where the Syriac versions were adduced for this purpose. It was further shown that a bridge has now been established between the interpretations offered by Humbert and those of Norden in his famous work, Die Geburt des Kindes.]. In the Isaac-oracles we assumed a Canaanite mythical motif and it can easily be demonstrated that the very literary category of the oracle about the birth of the divine-royal child goes back to a Canaanite pattern. The definite proof is furnished, as nearly always, by Ugaritic literature, where we refer to the oracles given to Danel and to Krt. In the Aqhat text we read the blessing communicated by El to Danel:
He blesses Danel, Man of Rapi,
strengthens the Hero, Man of Harnem:
Danel, Man of Rapi, shall get life in (his) soul,
the Hero, Man of Harnem, in (his) power.
[In his chamber] he shall surely become potent,
to his couch he shall ascend [and crouch].
As he kisses his wife, [she shall conceive,]
as he embraces (her), she shall conceive [and become preg]nant,
conceive and bear [to the Man of Rap]i.
(II D i. 36-43)
[n2 Cf. Obermann, op. cit., p. 6 (text p. 4). Some slight changes have been made here in his translation. Other translations are offered in A.N.E. T., pp. 149 ff., and in Gordon, U.L., p. 86, but 1 do not think them as good as Obermann's.]
This wedding motif plays a great role in another of the Ugaritic epics, the Krt legend. An important point in the plot is when the king Pabil-Melek offers the hero all kinds of gifts which are declined. Instead of that the royal princess is demanded for wife:
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But what is not in my house. mayest thou give,
give me the girl Hry,
the sweetest of progeny, thy firstborn,
whose charm is like ‘Anat's charm,
whose beauty like Astart's beauty,
whose pupil is a fruit of lapis-lazuli,
the eyelid a bowl of precious stone,
whom El gave in my dream,
in my vision the Father of Man:
that a scion be born unto Krt,
yea, a lad unto the Servant of El.
(I K 287-300; Syria, xxv (1946-8), p. 162b)
[n1 Transl. in all essentials in agreement with Herdner in Syria xxv.]
Accordingly, in this text too the high god gives an oracle of blessing to the future father, not to the mother. For El proclaims to 'the Lovely One, the Servant of El', the following oracle:
The wife thou takest, O Krt,
the wife thou takest to thy house,
the young woman thou causest to enter thy court,
she will bear thee seven sons,
yea, octuple (an) eight(h) !
She will bear thee Ysb, the boy,
he will suck the milk of A[st]art,
he will suckle the breasts of the virgin [‘Anat],
he will get food [from the goddesses (?)].
(II 21-28; Syria, xxv (1946-8), p. 1642) [n2 Idem.]
We see, then, how the birth of the royal child may be considered an essential motif in Canaanite epics, and that the three stylistic elements, typical of the birth-oracle, also recur in the RS texts. A characteristic detail may also be pointed out. We noted in the Isaac legend the pun on the root shq, leading up to the explanation given of the name Yishaq, 'he laughs'. Now it is a most typical trait of El in Ugaritic mythical literature that he 'laughs', yshq, and this detail here certainly calls for notice for it furnishes us with a raison d'etre for the name of Isaac, Yishaq [n3 Cf. Eissfeldt, El im ugaritischen Pantheon (Berlin, 1951), p. 34, where the passages are registered. Ginsberg, J.P.O.S. xvi (1936), p. 140 n. 3, was the first to note the importance of El's 'laughter' in this connexion, saying 'I am not aware that anybody has yet pointed out that the theophorous personal name which the biblical hypocoristicon Yishaq (Isaac) presupposes could only have been inspired by this Canaanite theology.']. It cannot be denied that this laughter, as Hvidberg has emphasized concerning 'laughter' in general, possesses an erotic touch; compare, for example, the episode in the Ba’al-Anat cycle (text 75 i. 12).
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So also Danel 'laughs' when a son is born unto him, 2 Aqhat ii. 10. Another detail of terminological parallelism, already several times underlined, is the fact that the young woman in Isa. vii as well as in Ugaritic texts is called ‘almah (Hebrew) = glmt (Ugaritic). Further the term 'Servant of El' calls for notice, because it is parallel to the well-known
expression 'Servant of Yahweh' in the Old Testament [n1 Cf. Virolleaud, La Légende phénicienne de Keret (Paris, 1936), p. 8 n. 3. Cf. further, e.g., Mowinckel, N.T.T. xliii (1942), pp. 24-26.]. And lastly the role played in Old Testament literature by 'the good tidings', already alluded to, may be correctly explained from the RS texts [n2 Cf. Virolleaud, Syria xvii (1936), p. 172 n. 1; Mowinckel, N.T.T. xl (1939), pp. 205-7; Engnell, op. cit., Topical Index, s.v. 'the glad tidings'.], as has often been emphasized by many scholars in this very connexion. The birth of the divine-royal son is the content of the good tidings brought to Ba’al, II AB v. 88; IV AB iii. 34 ff. and I Aqhat.
Behind these Canaanite birth-oracles, given to the god or to the royal-divine hero, with their literary framework of fixed phraseology, special stylistic elements, and ever-recurring ideology, we are, however, able to discern an unmistakable pattern in Egyptian royal ideology. It is now some years since attention was called to the famous scene of the temple reliefs of Deir al-Bahri with their accompanying hieroglyphic text [n3 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 28 f.], where we read inter alia how Amun-Re in the shape of the reigning Pharaoh has intercourse with the queen [n4 Cf. Blackman, in Myth and Ritual, p. 36. This essay on the Egyptian myth and ritual pattern as far as I am able to judge is still the best treatment of that subject.]. Afterwards he himself gives an oracle to the queen concerning the child to be borne by her [n5 Humbert, who is infinitely better acquainted with Egyptian literature than I, did not compare this essential moment in his article already quoted.].
Utterance of Amun, Lord of the Two Lands [n6 The Two Lands are upper and lower Egypt.], before her:
Khnemet-Amun-Hatshepsut shall be the name of this thy daughter, whom I have
deposited in thy body. . .
She shall exercise this excellent kingship in this whole land.
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My soul shall be hers, my [power] [n1 Egyptian term: shm.] hers,
my authority [n2 Idem: 'wss.] shall be hers, my crown [n3 Idem: wrrt.] hers.
She it is that shall rule the Two Lands, leading all living (beings).
(Sethe, Urkunden, iv. I, pp. 102 f.; Breasted, A.R.E. ii. 80, § 198)
[n4 Transl. according to Sethe but using Breasted's phraseology.]
As will be seen immediately, this oracular message contains just the three points met with both in Canaanite and in Old and New Testament literature and here at last—at least for chronological if not for other reasons—we have obviously found the real pattern of the legend of the royal birth with its well-defined oracular formula. This does not at all mean that corresponding traits could not be detected in Mesopotamian texts, for there is indeed a close correspondence with the bovine symbols for god and goddess as partners in the sacred marriage [n5 Cf. R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 26 f. with references to I. AB v. 18-22; IV AB iii. 20-22; IV AB iii. 33-38; Nikal-Kosarot 7, and also to the Akkadian text published by Ebeling, AfG.M. xiv (1923), pp. 69 ff., transl. also by Bohl, E.O.L. 1-5, pp. 203 f.]. But hitherto, so far as the oracular announcement of the birth of the child is concerned, it has not been possible to find so exact a parallel to Canaanite ideology and literary expression as that found in the Deir al-Bahri reliefs.
In concluding this section of our essay we should like to emphasize that the ritual background in this kind of myth has been shown to be found in the institution of sacral kingship, adding the observation that to the texts already adduced the 'royal' interpretation of the Song of Songs would supply still more important details [n6 Cf., e.g., Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 78 f.; Schmokel, Z.A.W. lxiv (1952), pp. 148-155; Ringgren, ibid. lxv (1953), pp. 300-2.].
We have already spoken of Hvidberg's work on weeping and laughter as parts of an older Israelitic ritual, and having dealt with the laughter we may now proceed to the ritual weeping. It is not necessary to examine anew all the passages in the Old Testament so thoroughly analysed by Hvidberg, Graham, and May. Suffice it here to remind the reader of a few of the most significant texts, where the mythic-ritual colouring has not yet entirely faded away.
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Such are the passages in Hos. x. 5; Judges xi. 30-40 (the story of Jephthah's daughter) [n1 Goldziher, op. cit., pp. 113 f. has hinted at a mythical motif behind this story.]; Micah i. 10 [n2 Cf. Graham, op. cit., pp. 244 ff.]; Isa. xv. 1-9, xvi. 7-12, xvii. 10-11; Zech. xii. 9-14; Jer. ix. 9, l. 5; Joel i. 8.
Very significant is such a passage as Joel i. 8:
Lament like a virgin, sackcloth-girt,
for the husband of her youth.
In this place we meet with the terms betulah and ba’al ne’uraeha, both reminiscent of the RS texts [3 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., pp. 122 f.]. But the whole book of Joel is full of such reminiscences, as has been shown in recent years [n4 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., pp. 120 ff. ; Widengren, S.E.A. x (1945), p. 76; Kapelrud, Joel Studies, passim.]. What is especially striking is the fact that in Old Testament lamentation texts the lack of rain is so often alluded to, and that the withering away of plants is so often mentioned. Such is the case not only in Joel i-ii but also, for instance, in Jer. ix. 9 and Isa. xv. 6. The parallels to the RS texts have been carefully noted by Hvidberg [n5 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., pp. 107 ff.]. And we should not forget the two essential words 'seeking' and 'finding', so characteristic of the Adonis cult and so often found both in Hosea and in the Song of Songs [n6 Cf. May, op. cit., pp. 81 ff. and the Song of Songs iii. 1 ff., cf. also Haller; Hoheslied, Hb.A.T. i. 18 (Tubingen, 1940), p. 30.].
According to 1he myth and ritual pattern, however, the death of the young god is characterized also by the fact that he has deserted his temple and city, which—as is said in the litanies—are conquered by the enemies and devastated, left in what has been styled.a 'state of chaos'. In this case it is possible to place the ritual weeping for the god in a wider perspective. In the Old Testament psalms, especially in the so-called 'lamentations of the people', and in the whole collection called Eka, as well as in lsa. xxiv-xxvii, we find a great many such motifs.
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A detailed comparison with corresponding Mesopotamian texts would sufficiently demonstrate that the same mythical motifs recur in the Old Testament texts just mentioned as in the so-called Tammuz-liturgies [n1 Such a detailed comparison is still a desideratum; for the time being cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 63 ff., where the chief motifs are registered with references to some corresponding passages in Mesopotamian literature.]. We are thus able to assert that there was just such a ritual mourning in Israel as there was in Mesopotamia after the 'death' of Tammuz, and that this lamentation festival was celebrated in connexion with the Feast of Booths, after the jubilation ceremonies of the sacred marriage. The description given in Neh. viii-ix is quite illuminating in this respect, as was seen by Hvidberg [n2 Cf. Hvidberg, op. cit., pp. 85 f. Gressmann, op. cit., p. 422, was on the right track when pointing out how mourning and rejoicing succeed each other at the Feast of Booths.].
With all this we have not shown that there really was a mythical conception of Yahweh as a dying and rising deity, for it could always be argued—as indeed it has been—that this motif in the myth and ritual pattern was so foreign to Yahweh that when traces of that idea are met with in Israelite religion it is due to the fact that Ba’al in some quarters and some periods was worshipped instead of Yahweh [n3 Cf., e.g. Pedersen's article, A.c.O. xviii (1939), pp. 1-14.].
Against this view recent research has attempted to prove that there really existed in some Israelite circles a worship of Yahweh as a dying and rising deity, and further that passages in the Old Testament where such mythic reminiscences are found testify to a closer correspondence between Hebrew and Ugaritic phraseology and technical terms than was hitherto recognized.
Thus we do find not only the expression 'Yahweh liveth' in some pregnant passages, above all in Ps. xviii. 47 (one of the 'Canaanizing' psalms), an expression exactly corresponding to the cultic cry of jubilation in the RS texts, 'Aliyan Ba’al liveth', I AB iii. 8-9, but, moreover, the cultic exhortation, 'awake', addressed to the god in the sleep of death and directed even to Yahweh in Ps. xxxv. 23; xliv. 23; lix. 4 [n4 cr. Widengren, S.E.A. (1945), pp. 76 f.; Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 66 ff.]. A mythic situation, in which Yahweh is thought of as being dead, is accordingly presupposed in the cult. Actually there are many allusions to such a moment both in psalms and prophetical texts [n5 Cf, Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 43 ff.; Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 66 ff.].
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Here Ps. lxxviii. 61, 65-66 occupies a place in the focus of our interest. This psalm describes the mythic situation, hinted at before, when God's wrath causes His whole people to be delivered up into the hands of its enemies, the 'state of chaos', as we styled it before.
And he delivered up his strength to captivity,
and his ornament into the hand of the adversary.
(v. 61)
Then follows the description of the 'state of chaos', verses 62-64.
But when the visitation is at its most terrible, then the situation is suddenly completely changed.
Adonai awaked like a sleeper,
like a hero, overcome with wine.
He smote his adversaries backward,
an everlasting shame he made them. (vv. 65-66)
We know from Mesopotamian literature these two motifs, sleep and drunkenness, as symbols of the death of Tammuz. While the 'state of chaos' is reigning on earth and above all in the holy courtyard of the temple, the god is slumbering the heavy sleep of death, a mythic-cultic situation corresponding to that found in Ps. lxxviii. 61-64. We should also note the epithet gibbor, hero, given to Adonai—this very name is probably significant—because we are reminded of the same epithet, hero, in Akkadian qarradu, associated with the young god, who like a hero sets out for battle, when descending into the nether world [n1 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 44 f. and Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 67.]. For this reason we may say with some confidence that we find in Ps. lxxviii. 65-66 a clear description of Yahweh as emerging in might from the mythic-ritual state, depicted as sleep. In this connexion it should also be carefully noted that the two Hebrew expressions used for 'to sleep' and 'to awake' exactly correspond to those used of the Tyrian Ba’al of Carmel [n2 Concerning this Ba’al cf. the discussion in Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel, pp. 156 f. with notes referring to literature, and p. 229 n. 47 with a reference to the article of R. de Vaux, Bulletin du Music de Beyrouth, v (1941), pp. 7-20.] in 1 Kings xviii. 19 ff. [n3 In 1 Kings xviii. 27 the verbs used are [HEB] and [HEB] in Ps.lxxviii. 6 [HEB] and [HEB] cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 68 f. and p. 109 with n. 31.].
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It is only against the background of Ps. lxxviii that we are in a position to understand another mythical passage in the Psalms, where Yahweh is exhorted to arise and take vengeance on his enemies:
Arise, oh Yahweh, in Thine anger,
lift Thyself up in outbursts of rage against mine adversaries,
and awake, oh my God, .
judgement Thou hast commanded.
May the congregation of peoples surround Thee,
and Thou, above it, return to the height.
(Ps. vii. 6-7)
[n1 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 44 f. and Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 67 f.]
The leading themes are quite clear. First we have the awakening and arising of the deity. Secondly we meet with the idea that God is surrounded by the congregation of the peoples. Thirdly the notion that Yahweh, enthroned on this congregation, returns to the height (where as we have seen He has His throne) [n2 Cf. above, p. 164.]. That the first motif is found in the Ugaritic texts goes without saying. The second motif is also common there [n3 Cf. Patton, Canaanite Parallels in the Book of Psalms (Baltimore 1944), p. 24, where passages are registered.]. The third motif is found in RS literature when Ba’al ascends to the height in the North, where his throne has its place [n4 Cf. Patton, op. cit., p. 19.]. Furthermore, we should not forget the linguistic parallels. The Hebrew marom, height, corresponds to the Ugaritic mrym, just as the Hebrew sub, return, appears in the same form in Ugaritic sb, and the peoples, le'ummim, are the equivalent of Ugaritic l'imm [n5 Cf. Gordon, U.H., Glossary, p. 242: 1061.]. In this connexion the significance of the Hebrew verb ‘ala, ascend, used of Yahweh in the enthronement psalms, must be stressed, for it has its equivalent in the verb ‘ly, which is used when it is said in the RS texts that Ba’al 'ascends' to the height in the north [n6 Cf. Gordon, op. cit., p. 256: 1485, and Gunkel-Begrich, Einleitung in die Psalmen (Gottingen, 1933), p. 105 (cf. Ps. xlvii. 6; lxviii. 19).].
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The situation in the myth and ritual pattern, when the return to life of the dead god is announced by his messenger, is also reflected in some Old Testament passages. Above all Mal. iii. 1 would seem to be important, for there it is said [n1 Cf. Haldar, Associations of Cult Prophets among the Ancient Semites (Uppsala, 1945), pp. 128 f.; Widengren, S.E.A. x (1945), p. 78. We cannot enter here upon a reply to the criticisms directed against this interpretation. The whole gist of our exposition with its many references to various aspects of the problem must serve as a provisional answer.]:
Behold I send my messenger, .
and he will prepare the way before me,
and suddenly will come to his temple
the Lord whom ye are seeking.
This messenger is the same figure as that found in the Mesopotamian ritual of the New Year festival. The key word of the Malachi text is the verb 'seek', biqqes, this idea being met with repeatedly in Hosea, but also in the Song of Songs as was intimated above [n2 Cf. above, pp. 177 f.].
With the passage in Malachi is to be compared the passage Nah. i. 15 [n3 Cf. the reference in Widengren, op. cit., p. 78 n. 32, and the detailed treatment by Haldar, Studies in the Book of Nahum, U.U.A. 1946: 7, the passages being indexed p.160.]:
Behold upon the mountains the feet of the bringer of good tidings,
of one proclaiming peace:
'Celebrate thy feasts, oh Judah,
fulfil thy vows!
For not again will Belial pass through thee,
he will be wholly cut off.'
The return of God, announced by the bringer of good tidings, the same root bsr being used as in Ugaritic mythological literature, implies in accordance with the pattern the restoration of peace. The 'state of chaos' is ended, destruction and war finished.
This same motif recurs in Isa. iii. 7 [n4 Cf. Haldar, Associations of Cult Prophets, p. 129; Widengren, S.E.A. x (1945), p.78.]:
How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the bringer of good tidings,
that proclaimeth peace, bringeth good tidings,
sayeth unto Sion: 'Thy God is King.'
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Here a new motif enters the action: the proclamation of God as King, the enthronement of Yahweh upon Sion. We should note here the striking similarity in phraseology between this passage in Isaiah and that in Nahum [n1 Cf. the expression [HEB] Nah. i. 15 with [HEB] Isa. iii. 7, and [HEB] Nah. i. 15 with [HEB] Isa.. iii. 7. We are confronted with a very fixed cultic terminology, recurring in poetic texts, cf. below, p. 201.].
That this kingship of Yahweh is a mythic trait, taken over by the Israelite population from the Canaanites and ultimately from the myth and ritual pattern of the ancient Near East has been explained with so many details in the volume Myth and Ritual that we may content ourselves with pointing out some special features. First of all it should be stressed that while earlier scholars (Mowinckel, Wensinck) had to find their parallels in Mesopotamia, the discoveries at Ras Shamra in this case as in so many others have furnished us with abundant material for the mythic-ritual idea of the enthronement of God. This has been shown in detail by Kapelrud [n2 Cf. Kapelrud, N.T.T. xli (1940), pp. 38 ff., esp. pp. 44-55, where the relevant Ugaritic passages are quoted.]. The idea of God as King was so intimately bound up with the Canaanite conception of the deity that the word maelaek, king, could pass from an appellative to a proper name. So we meet with the Phoenician divine name Milk and the god Milkom among the Ammonites [n3 Cf. Nyberg, Studien zum Hoseabuche, Index, p. 139, [HEB] U.U.A. 1941: 7, 2, pp. 39 f.]. This being the case it is sometimes difficult to establish with certainty the exact meaning of the word maelaek in the Old Testament. Is it Yahweh as King, Ba’al as King, or the earthly king [n4 This problem has been discussed above all by Nyberg, op. cit. It should be noted that the expression [HEB] Hos. vii. 5 has its exact parallel in Ugaritic, cf. below, p. 196.]? This obscurity prevails in the difficult text Isa. lvii. 9 f., where it would seem, however, that we find the god Maelaek, to whom oil and ointments are brought. Because it is said that messengers were sent far away and that Judah, here depicted as a woman, went down to Sheol, the situation described would seemingly be that the god Maelaek is to be found in Sheol. Judah, the woman, seeking her lover Maelaek in the nether world and
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bringing him the oil of life in order to restore him to life—so the original mythic situation is probably to be reconstructed [n1 Space does not allow a detailed treatment of the important text in question. For the whole situation cf. Istar's descent (A.N.E. T., pp. 52 ff., 106 ff.) and for the oil of Life as a revivifying anointment Maqlu vii. 37, and above, p. 166 n. 4. In Ugarit we meet with the theme of ‘Anat's walking on the mountains and in the valleys in order to find the dead Ba’al.]. For the prophet himself this god Maelaek is obviously a foreign deity, because he says that Judah has deserted Yahweh (v. 8), but for the Israelites worshipping him he was presumably only Yahweh, somehow merged in the Canaanite god Ba’al- Maelaek.
The idea of the kingship of Yahweh dominates the whole Israelitic pattern. 'Yahwaeh malak', thus runs the proclamation, as in Assyria Assur sar [n2 Cf. Muller, Das assyrische Ritual. Teil 1. Texte zum assyrischen Konigsritual (Leipzig, 1937), p. 8(9) = KAR 216 i. 29. Assur sar, Assur sar!], or in Canaan mlkn aliy[n] b’l sptn, II AB iv. 43-44, 'Our King is Al’iyan Ba’al, our Judge!' In this Ugaritic proclamation formula there is a faint trace of the idea of the god as a judge, an idea that in Israel played such an immense role in the picture of Yahweh Himself, sitting on His throne, judging the nations [n3 Cf. Kapelrud, op. cit., pp. 51 f.].
The idea of the kingship of Yahweh in Israel as in Canaan possesses cosmic significance. His battle with the Chaos powers, the Sea-Dragon and her helpers, and His victory over them has enabled Him to take His throne as highest ruler of the cosmos, which He has now created out of chaos. This notion is constantly recurring in the Hebrew psalms of enthronement, where we read such hymns of praise as the following:
Yahweh is King,
majesty he hath put on,
Yahweh hath put on.
Yea, the world is established
and doth not waver.
Thy throne is established from of old,
from eternity art Thou.
The streams have lifted up, oh Yahweh,
the streams have lifted up their voice,
the streams lift up their crashing.
More than the voices of many waters,
magnificent more than the breakers of the sea,
magnificent in the height is Yahweh.
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(Ps. xciii) [n1 For the interpretation of this psalm cf. Mowinckel, Psalmenstudien (Kristiania (Oslo), 1922), iii. 215 f.]
When Yahweh has conquered his adversaries and enthroned himself on high, it implies that all the universe is in perfect harmony; tebel does not waver, as the common expression runs [n2 For the interpretation of v. 3 cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 62 f., where the passage I AB v. 1-6 in the Ugaritic poems is compared.]. Yahweh has created an orderly cosmos, Ps. xcv. 4; xxiv. 2; xxxiii. 6-9. Then He can judge the peoples with justice, Ps. xcv. 10; xcviii. 9. Also another trait dominates this trend of mythical ideas, namely the notion of the fertilization of the earth by the rains which Yahweh sends. Yahweh's enthronement thus also means the fertilization of the country [n3 Cf. Mowinckel, op. cit., pp. 93 f., 168-70].
Oesterley In his essay in Myth and Ritual stated that the mythical ideas we have treated in this section found their ritual expression in the New Year festival. 'The popular Hebrew name of this festival was, and still is, Sukkot.' [n4 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 122.]. No doubt is possible as to the New Year character of this feast [n5 Cf. Myth and Ritual, pp. 122 f.], since it was celebrated 'at the going out of the year', Exod. xxiii. 16, or, as it is also said, 'at the turn of the year', Exod. xxxiv. 22. 'As the most important of all the feasts we find it spoken of as "the Feast"‘, Oesterley emphasized. It is therefore rather astonishing to meet in some quarters with the contention that there was no New Year festival in pre-exilic Israel and that the existence of such a festival is only a gratuitous hypothesis, for which Mowinckel is mainly responsible [n6 For recent discussion cf. Johnson, The Old Testament and Modern Study, pp. 190 ff.].
We have already pointed out the importance the Sukkot festival once possessed for the myth and ritual pattern in Israel. Reference was specially made to its intimate connexion with the sacred marriage and the rites of jubilation, its 'laughing', [n7 Cf. above, pp. 179 f.]
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but also with the rites of mourning as expressions of the sorrow felt by the worshippers at the death of the young god [n1 Cf. above, p. 191.]. That the enthronement of the god too was connected with this festival would presumably be quite clear from the description of the final moment of the feast as given by Oesterley, how 'the great procession with Yahweh in His chariot, when it had reached its destination, halted, and Yahweh left his chariot and entered into His "tabernacle" in the temple'. A Babylonian parallel was also alluded to by Oesterley [n2 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 136.]. As we saw, the enthronement of Yahweh was also intimately associated with the idea of Him as the Creator of the universe, a creation involving the maintenance of its order inter alia by the bringing of rain and fertilization. Oesterley in this connexion referred to the fact that Rabbinic Judaism 'discerned a relationship between the Feast of Tabernacles and the Creation' [n3 Cf. Myth and Ritual, p. 124.]. And the sending of the rains was one of the mythical traits that found a corresponding expression in ritual, in both older and later times, in the water libations carried out at this festiva1 [n4 Cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, p. 41 with the notes 46-48 on p. 100.]. This ritual, symbolizing the falling of the rain, possessed, however, another meaning also, associating it with the sacred marriage; for an analogy was drawn between the consummation of marriage and the fertilization of earth by means of the rains [n5 Cf. Widengren, op. cit., p. 112 n. 76.].
We have found that in some passages in the books of the prophets there are unmistakable allusions to the triumphal return of the god to his city and his temple [n6 Cf. above, p. 194.], allusions obviously inspired by the mythic-ritual ideology of the New Year festival, as was shown by Mowincke1 [n7 Cf. Mowinckel, op. cit., pp. 238 ff.]. In the book of Jeremiah there are actually many allusions also to the ritual practices connected with the Sukkot festival, above all with the dances, music, and jubilation carried out at the dancing place, mahol, encircling the vineyard, where the booth, sukkah, was erected [n8 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 20 f.].
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We may now state briefly the connexion between the king and the mythical ideas we have treated here. We have seen that the king acts in the ritual as the representative of the god, who is dead, but rises again, is conquered by his enemies, but is at last victorious over them, and returns in triumph to his temple, creating cosmos, fertilizing earth, celebrating his marriage, sitting enthroned in his holy Tabernacle upon the mountain of the gods [n1 I give below in an appendix a short summary of some headlines under which the mythical and ritual themes, recurring in prophetical literature could be summed up. Many of these motifs have been treated by Mowinckel, op. cit., pp. 228 ff., others by Haldar, Studies in the Book of Nahum, pp. 88 ff., others by myself in Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 65 f. as far as Lamentations are concerned, and Gray, J.M.E.O.S. xxv (1947-53), treated the motif of sacrifice.].
It has accordingly been argued that the so-called 'misery-descriptions' in the royal psalms of lamentation reflect the mythical situation, when the god finds himself imprisoned in the nether world, surrounded by wild, demonic creatures [n2 Cf. Widengren, S.E.A. x (1945), pp. 66-81; R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 37-46. Here attention should be called to such a typical 'Tammuz-motif' as that found in Ps. cxxix. 1-3.]. It was likewise contended that the king in ritual form was consummating the sacred marriage because he was the representative of the god, and that this position of the king is reflected in the Song of Songs [n3 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. vii (1948), pp. 17-37 with references; Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 78 f. and the articles of Ringgren and Schmokel, Cf. above, p. 189 n. 6.]. We should here add a reference to Ps. xlv, the inclusion of which in the collection of the canonical Hebrew psalms surely gives food for thought [n4 Cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, p. 78.]. The triumphant return of the god at the head of the great procession was held to be reflected in the king's position as the 'collector of the dispersed' [n5 Cf. Widengren, R.o.B. ii (1943), pp. 70-73; Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 57 f.]. The god's fertilizing of the earth would seem to find its ritual expression in the king's water libations, which have a last echo in the Samaritan liturgies, part of which describes the ritual actions undertaken by the north-Israelite ruler [n6 Cf. Widengren, Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 34-43.].
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That the mythical enthronement of the god finds its ritual parallel not only in the celebration of Yahweh's kingship, but also in the coronation ceremonies of the Israelite-Jewish king would seem probable [n1 Cf. Widengren, Psalm 110; H.S. i. 3, pp. 1-12; Sakrales Konigtum, pp. 44-53. Cf. also above, pp. 174 f. on the idea of the king as the Firstborn.]. All this must, however, in future be developed in detail in order to show the real importance of sacral kingship for Hebrew myths and vice versa.
Arriving at the end of our exposition we should like to touch briefly upon some problems more or less closely connected with our main theme. .
First of all there is, of course, one question that immediately presents itself to our minds, viz. what after all was the real importance and significance of early Hebrew myths in the social and cultic life of ancient Israel? The difficulty of answering such a question is due to the fact that only one comparatively small portion of that Israel is allowed to speak freely in the Old Testament texts in their present form, whereas the opinion of opposing portions, surely comprising the overwhelming majority of the nation, finds expression only in scanty fragments and in partly disguised allusions or in the distorted polemics of its adversaries. This difficult situation has already been alluded to in our introductory remarks [n2 Cf. above, p. 158.].
This much can, however, be said without hesitation: there was a positive and a negative reaction in Israel towards the supposed myth and ritual pattern. This is generally recognized. On the one hand, wholehearted acceptance among the majority of the people and in all governmental and official circles in north Israel, and probably during many periods of Israelite history in Judah too; on the other hand, a rejection at least as convinced and wholehearted by the conservative elements of the people, those sections of the population who adhered to the old ideals and the old worship of Yahweh. We should, however, be careful not to identify the so-called 'reactionary prophets' with these circles, for even among the prophets of reaction we find assimilation and adaptation of the myth and ritual pattern, though everywhere transformed, spiritualized, and more or less detached from the cult [n3 Cf. Our Appendix and our remarks above, p. 199 n1. Cf. also the following statement: 'The prophets did not merely react against the cult, but they took bodily from it many of their highest ideals and most of their significant symbolism', May, op. cit., p. 98.].
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Another difficult problem is the question of how Hebrew mythical ideas could be reconciled with the dominating Hebrew conception of history. This is a most interesting problem which we regret we have not space to treat in this connexion but which will be taken up for discussion on another occasion [n1 In a paper read at University College, Bangor, I treated the subject 'Myth and History in Israelite-Jewish Thought'.].
In the course of our exposition we also—at least indirectly—came across a third problem. How did these older mythical ideas survive in ancient Israel? In what form were they preserved? Here the answer is ready to hand, as has been indirectly indicated in our exposition. The fact that technical expressions and whole phrases belonging to the mythical sphere recur not only in psalms but also in prophetical literature and wisdom-literature has been repeatedly established. We have seen that there once existed a Canaanite epic tradition as well as cult-lyrics with epic reminiscences and mythical allusions. When traces of such mythical traditions are found in Hebrew literature it would seem quite natural to assume the existence of a now lost Hebrew epic literature of mythical content, glorifying the deeds of Yahweh, a literature having left its heritage in the present Old Testament. Let us remember that in the case of cult-lyrics the process of Hebrew adaptation of Canaanite psalms has been clearly demonstrated [n2 Above all by such scholars as Albright, Gaster, and Ginsberg.]. Here the importance of north Israelite psalms should be duly recognized. The case of epic-mythical traditions, thanks to the researches of Cassuto, is conceivably on the verge of being established in a satisfactory manner, for Cassuto has made it probable that the Israelites took over and adapted parts of once-existing Canaanite epics [n3 Cassuto, Ha-elah ‘Anat (The Goddess Anath), Jerusalem, 1951.]. We must not forget in this connexion that Gunkel discovered some poetical fragments in the more mythical parts of Genesis. In view of these facts it becomes increasingly probable a priori that, for instance, the Book of Job, full as it is of mythical allusions, would not constitute an exception to the general rule.
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For this reason it does not seem very likely that the author, instead of being a link in an old-established chain of Hebrew tradition, was directly 'dependent on lost Phoenician sources of the Iron age', living 'in the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the sixth or fifth century B.C.' and 'conversant with a wide range of lost pagan north-west Semitic literature' [n1 So Albright, Supplements to V. T. iii (1955), p. 14.]. Such a hypothesis would isolate Job from other specimens of Israelite poetry, where a related phraseology recurs. Nor does it seem very likely that these mythical ideas made their way into Israel thanks to 'a general archaeological revival' [n2 So Gaster, Thespis. Ritual, Myth and Drama in the Ancient Near East (New York, 1950), p 14-6.]. The vitality of the myth and ritual pattern is attested throughout the Old Testament itself. Religious ideas, furthermore, seldom owe their effective strength to some 'archaeological revival'.
There are in early Hebrew myths some speculative implications of far-reaching consequences, as was intimated in our introduction. In our Essay we have not entered upon a discussion of these more philosophical-theological aspects, because such a subject in itself would have required nearly all the space allotted to our treatment of Hebrew myths, the subject being extremely delicate and difficult to handle—if we want to avoid modernizing as well as archaizing tendencies of interpretation. What we have tried above all to do is to establish the position of Hebrew myths within the framework of the supposed Myth and Ritual pattern of the ancient Near East and to demonstrate the importance of the Ras Shamra finds for the understanding of these early Hebrew myths.
APPENDIX
SOME NEW YEAR FESTIVAL THEMES IN PROPHETIC LITERATURE
I. The State of Chaos.
1. The victory of the enemies in city and temple.
2. The drought and famine.
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3. The god's deserting his city and temple.
4. The dispersion of the people.
5. The imprisonment.
6. The sleep of the god.
7. The drunkenness.
II. The Return of God and People.
1. The glad tidings brought by the messenger.
2. The awakening of god and people.
3. The return of god and people (survival of the rest).
4. The battle.
5. The defeat of Death.
6. The liberation of the people.
7. The gathering of the people.
III. The Victory Banquet and Enthronement.
1. The sacrifice.
2. The victory banquet.
3. The enthronement.
Rowley, H. H., “Ritual and the Hebrew Prophets.”
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It is curious how labels get attached to men and to schools. In 1933 Professor Hooke edited a volume of essays published under the title Myth and Ritual, and since then he has been either praised or blamed as the leader of the 'Myth and Ritual School'. In reality those essays were largely a mise au point of studies which had been going on for some time, but mainly outside this country. There had been a growing recognition of common elements in the culture and outlook of the peoples of the ancient Near East from the Nile to the Euphrates, and Professor Hooke and his colleagues underlined those common elements [n1 O. Eissfeldt, in The Old Testament and Modern Study, ed. by H. H. Rowley, 1951, p. 122, says that in this book and its sequel, The Labyrinth, ed. by S. H. Hooke, 1935, 'The external analogies have been given precedence over the illustrative material to be found within the Old Testament itself.' The measure of over-emphasis on what had hitherto been under-emphasized was less than in some more recent studies, and some, at any rate, of the writers had no desire to minimize the evidence of the Old Testament or to impose an alien pattern on the whole.]. Little was then known of the Ras Shamra texts, which were only beginning to see the light, but from which a good deal of additional material can now be drawn for some aspects of the subject.
Some scholars, such as the late Henri Frankfort [n2 Cf. the summary of his paper read to the 7th Congress for the History of Religions, held in Amsterdam in 1950, published in the Proceedings of the Congress, ed. by C. J. Bleeker, G. W. J. Drewes, and K. A. H. Hidding, 1951, pp. 99 f., and The Problem of Similarity in Ancient Near Eastern Religions, 1951.], have since reacted strongly against the whole idea of a common pattern of culture, and have emphasized the diverse elements of Egyptian and Babylonian civilization, and have dismissed 'patternism' as something irrelevant to our studies. On the other hand, what has come to be known as the 'Scandinavian School' has sometimes gone beyond Professor Hooke and his colleagues in emphasizing the common elements and in pressing 'patternism' in ways which cannot be attributed to them. In truth, it is as misleading to speak
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of the 'Scandinavian School' as to speak of the' Myth and Ritual School', since there are very real divergencies amongst the members of that supposed school. Professor Hooke and his colleagues were in some respects anticipated by Sigmund Mowincke, in his very important Psalmenstudien [n1 These Psalmenstudien were published in six parts in the Skrifter of the Norwegian Academy, 1921-4. For an estimate of their contribution to the study of the Psalter, cf. A. R. Johnson, in The Old Testament and Modern Study, pp. 189 ff.], and to him must be given a significant place in the history of 'patternism'. But since the headquarters of 'patternism' moved to Sweden, Mowinckel has sharply repudiated some of its developments, and has been in turn severely criticized by Swedish colleagues. That there were common elements and diverse elements in the culture and practice of the peoples of the region with which we are concerned is hard to deny, and it is possible to repudiate the extremer views on either side without assuming a merely negative attitude to either.
Ivan Engnell, of Uppsala, has been a storm centre in recent Old Testament studies, partly by reason of his championship of Oral Tradition instead of Literary Criticism, and partly because of his development of one aspect of the 'Myth and Ritual' views in his Studies in Divine Kingship in the Ancient Near East [n2 Published in 1943.]. With the question of Divine Kingship I am not concerned in this paper. It may not be out of place to observe, however, that one of my predecessors in my chair in the University of Manchester, Professor M. A. Canney, in the very year in which Myth and Ritual was published, and quite independently of Professor Hooke's 'school'—with which his name is never associated—issued an article ten years before Engnell's book saw the light, in which the self-same ideas were put forward in brief outline [n3 cf. Oriental Studies in Honour of Cursetji Erachji Pavry, 1933, pp. 63 ff.]. Canney argued that throughout our area and beyond kings were thought of as divine, and that in Israel the king was 'virtually an incarnation of the deity' [n4 Ibid., p. 74.]. In 1933 Manchester was as deeply involved in the ideas of the so-called 'school' as any of its members, either then or later, whether in this country or in Scandinavia.
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Certainly not all of the members of Professor Hooke's team would have gone so far as Professor Canney, and I should stop a long way short of this.
The special aspect of the general subject which has been assigned to me for the present essay is one in which I think we owe the so-called 'school' a debt of gratitude for the important contribution it has made to the study of the Old Testament—though again there are extremer expressions of that contribution which I do not endorse. The view that the Hebrew prophets were an entirely unique phenomenon in the religious history of the world—unique not only in the spiritual level they attained, but in the whole character of their work—is one that cannot be maintained. The recognition that there were prophets outside Israel very much like some of the early groups of prophets who come before us in the Old Testament has long been widespread, and more than forty years ago Holscher's Die Profeten [n1 Published in 1914.] emphasized what has come to be called the 'ecstatic' character of Hebrew prophecy [n2 For the present writer's views on this subject cf. The Servant of the Lord, 1952, pp. 91 ff.]. In the hands of some this character has been ascribed to all Old Testament prophecy, and it has been maintained that every oracle arose out of some 'ecstatic' experience [n3 Cf. W. Jacobi, Die Ekstase der alttestamentlichen Propheten, 1920, p. 4-: 'Ecstasy is of the essence of prophecy'; H. Gunkel, The Expositor, 9th series, i (1924-), p. 358: 'The fundamental experience of all types of prophecy is ecstasy'; also T. H. Robinson, Prophecy and the Prophets in Ancient Israel, 1923, p. 50. In E. T., xlvi (1934-5), p. 4-3, T. H. Robinson maintains that an objective criterion, in the form of some kind of ecstatic experience, was demanded by both prophet and hearers for each oracle.]. This tendency to 'Overpress evidence, and indeed to outrun it, is a constant danger to scholarship, and we shall find further instances of it as we proceed.
That the Egyptian story of Wen Amon [n4 A translation of this story may be found in Ancient Near Eastern Texts, ed. by J. B. Pritchard, 1950, pp. 25 ff.] presents us with prophecy closely similar to that of the early Israelite prophets cannot be gainsaid. In that story we are told that a youth became possessed and continued in this state all the night, declaring that he was the mouthpiece of the god.
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More recently evidence of prophets at Mari at a much earlier date has come to light [n1 Cf. A. Lods, in Studies in Old Testament Prophecy, ed. by H. H. Rowley, 1950, pp. 103 ff.; M. Noth, B.J.R.L. xxxii (1949-50), pp. 194 ff., and Geschichte und Gotteswort im Alten Testament, 1950; F. M. Th. de Liagre Bohl, Nederlands Theologisch Tijdschrift, iv (1949-50), pp. 82 ff.; W. von Soden, Die Welt des Orients, 1950, pp. 397 ff.; and H. Schmokel, Theologische Literaturzeitung, lxxvi (1940), cols. 54 ff.]. It is therefore quite impossible to treat Hebrew prophecy as an isolated phenomenon. It grew out of a background of ancient Near Eastern prophecy, going back very far and spreading widely [n2 Cf. A. Neher, L'Essence du prophetisme, 1955, pp. 17 ff.]. In the Old Testament we read of prophets of Baal [n3 1 Kings xviii. 19 ff. Their conduct as described in verse 28 was 'ecstatic'.], and evidence of similar prophets in neighbouring countries at a later time has long been familiar [n4 Cf. Holscher, Die Profeten, pp. 132 ff.; T. H. Robinson, The Classical Quarterly, xi (1917), pp. 201 ff., and Prophecy and the Prophets, pp. 33 f.].
Nevertheless, if Hebrew prophecy grew out of this background, we should not forget that it did grow. All should not be seen in terms of a particular manifestation, and that especially characteristic of an early period. That there was an abnormal element in even the greater prophets of the Old Testament may be allowed; but this does not mean that all prophecy was 'ecstatic', or that every oracle was born in a special abnormal experience. Wheeler Robinson thought it unlikely that 'a prophet of the classical period would have dared to prophesy without an inaugural vision such as Isaiah's in the temple, or an audition such as Jeremiah's, or such a characteristically peculiar experience as that of Ezekiel', and added: 'Moreover, we may expect such experiences to recur from time to time, and our expectation is fulfilled.' [n5 Cf. Redemption and Revelation, 1942, pp. 14-3 f. Cf. also J. P. Hyatt, Prophetic Religon, 1947,P. 17.] Whether these experiences of vocation are rightly described as 'ecstatic' need not detain us [6 J. Skinner admitted the use of the term. Cf. Prophecy and Religion, 1922, p. 4- n.: 'The fact that the great prophets far surpassed their predecessors in their apprehension of religious truth is no reason for denying the reality of the ecstatic element in their experience, or for explaining it away as a mere rhetorical accommodation to traditional modes of expression.']. Quite apart from these experiences we find the prophets sometimes
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behaving in ways which would soon get them into trouble in the modern world. Isaiah on and off over a period of three years was liable to be seen walking through the streets of Jerusalem naked and barefoot [n1 Isa. xx. 2 ff.]; and Jeremiah appeared in the Temple wearing a wooden yoke [n2 Jer. xxvii. 2, xxviii. 10.]. These were acted prophecies, usually described by the term 'prophetic symbolism'. They are not evidence of prophetic 'ecstasy', to be put on the same level as Saul's stripping off his clothes and rolling about on the ground naked all night [n3 I Sam. xix. 24.], but they are evidence of abnormal behaviour. Nevertheless, no study of Hebrew prophecy can end with the outer behaviour of the prophet. The prophet claims to be the mouthpiece of God [n4 Cf. Exod. vii. I f., iv. 16; Jer. i. 9; also the common prophetic formula, 'Thus saith the Lord'.], and it is by the message he delivers that his claim is to be judged. It is here that the development of Hebrew prophecy shows itself. Linked with prophecy elsewhere in its beginnings and in some of its forms of expression, it rises in the greater prophets whose oracles are preserved for us in the Bible to great spiritual heights.
We must not close our eyes to the fact that all the prophets of Israel did not rise to these sublime heights. If one thing is clear to the student of the Old Testament, it is that there were many varieties of prophet in Israel, and the uniqueness that may be claimed for Hebrew prophecy is something that belonged to but a few of the prophetic figures that come before us, and something that lies in the content of their message rather than in the form of its delivery [n5 Cf. H. Birkeland, The Evildoers in the Book of Psalms, 1955, p. 18: 'A text translated from Hebrew as opposed to Akkadian literature reveals such immense differences that everybody who can read discovers them at once. Common patterns existed, it is true. But in most cases they have to be detected by the scholarly work of specialists.'].
A generation ago it was common amongst scholars to set the prophets and the priests over against one another in the sharpest way.
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The prophets were presented as men who had no use whatever for any of the practices of the cultus, and who thought it was wholly alien to the will of God [n1 Cf. J. A. Bewer, The Literature of the Old Testament in its Historical Development, 1922, p. 267: 'Religion was a matter of the cult. The earlier prophets had violently protested against such a conception of religion and rejected the entire cultic apparatus as contrary to the will of God.']. Professor Volz wrote:
The Old Testament prophetic religion stands in the sharpest contrast to priestly religion, or Cult Religion. Priestly religion is the religion of sacrifice; the priest brings the gifts of men from below up to the Deity. Prophetic religion is the religion of the word; it brings the voice of God from above down to men [n2 Cf. Prophetengestalten des Alten Testaments, 1938, p. 56.].
On such a view the prophets were limited for all practical purposes to the canonical prophets, and the familiar passages in which they denounce the ritual observances of their day were given an extreme interpretation and held to mean that they condemned the cultus root and branch. The passages on which this view was based were mainly Isa. i. 10 ff., Amos v. 21 ff., Hosea vi. 6, Micah vi. 6 ff., Jer. vi. 20, vii. 21 ff., and together they were held to show that in the eyes of the prophets all sacrifice was an abomination to God, and the Temple itself was an offence in His eyes. Not all scholars took this extreme view, and I have more than once argued from the study of the prophetic books themselves that it cannot be maintained [n3 Cf. Melilah, ed. by E. Robertson and M. Wallenstein, i (1944),185 ff.; B.J.R.L., xxix (1945-6), pp. 326ff.; xxxiii (1950-1), pp. 74.ff.; and The Unity of the Bible, 1953, pp. 30ff.]. I agree with A. C. Welch that 'the judgment that the prophets were unanimous in their attitude toward the cult, and that they agreed in condemning it per se, does not do justice to the facts' [n4 Prophet and Priest in Old Israel, 1936, p. 17.], and that the claim 'that their common view was one which condemned the cult in toto can only be proved from isolated passages pressed beyond the terms of a just exegesis' [n5 Ibid., pp. 17 f. Cf. also K. Roubos, Profetie en Cultus in Israel, 1956, pp. 68 ff., 113.]. If the prophets had really meant that sacrifice under all circumstances was evil, they would not have needed to bring condemnation of the lives of men into association with their denunciation of the sacrifices. Isaiah condemns sacrifice, sacred festival and prayer, and says 'Your hands are full of blood.' [n6 Isa.i.15.]
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If it was for this reason that their ritual observances were condemned, this would be understandable; but we should not then conclude that the condemnation of the observances was absolute. If the prophet meant that even if their hands were not full of blood, their sacrifices and their prayers would equally be an offence to God, he would have been wiser not to mention the irrelevance. Jeremiah spoke of the coming destruction of the Temple, but made it clear that if men would amend their ways, the Temple might be spared [n1 Jer. vii. 5 ff.]. He could scarcely have thought that the Temple was in itself an offence to God. We ought therefore not to go beyond our text, but to be content to say that these prophets declared that the religious observances of their day were meaningless in the eyes of God because they were the observances of men whose lives were an offence to Him. They were not the expression of the devotion of their hearts, but rather the proud expression of the defiance of their spirit. That the prophets who spoke in this way say little in praise of the cultus is to be understood. For they were dealing with the situation of their own day, when for many the ritual was an end in itself.
By the 'Myth and Ritual School' this question has been approached from another side, and the simple antithesis between priests and prophets has now few defenders. So long ago as 1914 Holscher had already suggested that there were prophets who stood beside the priests in the shrines, where they belonged to the cultic staff [n2 Cf. Die Profeten, p. 143.]. These prophets he differentiated from the canonical prophets, however. Since then, as we shall see, much water has flowed under the bridge. In the third part of his. Studies in the Psalms, published in 1923 [n3 Psalmenstudien III: Kultprophetie und prophetische Psalmen.], Mowinckel took up the question of cultic prophets, and argued that there were such officials functioning in the shrines beside the priests, and that not a few of the psalms were, at least in part, composed by them. Amongst the psalms he notes are some which he associates with the 'great festivals' [n4 Ps. cxxxii, lxxxix. 20-38 (E.V. 19-37), lxxxi and xcv, 1, lxxxii, lxxv, lxxxvii, lxxxv, xiv, and xii.], some which he classes as prophetic oracles [n5 Ps. lx, cviii, xx, and xxi.],
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some which he calls royal oracles [n1 Ps. ii, cx, lxxii, and xlv.], and some which were for private cultic use [n2 Ps. xci and lxii.]. His fundamental view of the psalms was that they were ritual texts, used to accompany the sacred acts of the worship. It will be seen at once how closely this ties up with the ideas of the 'Myth and Ritual School'. For in the opening essay of Myth and Ritual Professor Hooke defined what was meant by 'myth' in the words:
In general the spoken part of a ritual consists of a description of what is being done, it is the story which the ritual enacts. This is the sense in which the term 'myth' is used in our discussion. The original myth, inseparable in the first instance from its ritual, embodies in more or less symbolic fashion, the original situation which is seasonally re-enacted in the ritual [n3. p. 3.].
That has relevance to much more than the Psalter, of course, but Mowinckel's understanding of the use of the psalms was not dissimilar. In this he was followed by Welch [n4 Cf. The Psalter in Life, Worship, and History, 1926, pp. 62 ff. On p. 59 Welch observed that 'the psalter is remarkably acultic', but this did not mean unrelated to the cult; for on p. 63 he says: 'It needs, then, to be emphasized at the beginning that the psalter was far more closely related to the cult-practice and its recurrent ritual than has been generally recognized in the ordinary English commentaries.' While Welch makes no reference to Mowinckel in his chapter on 'The Psalter and Worship', his footnote on p. 94 shows that he was familiar with the Norwegian scholar's work.], who also rejected the view that prophets and priests were diametrically opposed to one another [n5 Cf. Prophet and Priest in Old Israel, 1936.]—though Welch was not a member of the 'Myth and Ritual School'.
By older writers the Psalter had often been referred to as 'The Hymn Book of the Second Temple', and the composition of most of the psalms had been assigned to the post-exilic period. Now, on the contrary, the antiquity of many of the psalms was maintained, and they were related to the pre-exilic ritual of the Temple in a more intimate way than the term 'Hymn Book' suggests to us. The psalm was believed to express the meaning of the ritual it accompanied, and particular psalms were thought to belong to particular rites.
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Where all this concerns our subject in the present essay is in that Mowinckel held that many of the psalms arose in the prophetic responses in the worship. The cultic prophets were believed to have been the representatives of the congregation, who were caught up into ecstasy in all the excitement of the religious festival, and who fulfilled the function which all the congregation should ideally have fulfilled, and made the response to which they were prompted by the divine power [n1 Op. cit., pp. 16 ff. Cf. the view of H. Junker (Prophet und Seher in Israel, 1927, pp. 22 f.), where the prophets are associated with the sacred dance at the shrines, and with the sacred poetry which was sung as its accompaniment.]. In later times, Mowinckel argued, their place was taken by the Temple singers [n2 Op. cit., pp. 24 ff.].
Some of these ideas of Mowinckel's were taken up and presented to English readers in a brief paper by A. R. Johnson twenty years ago [n3 Cf. E.T., xlvii (1935-6), pp. 312 ff.]. Following Mowinckel he developed the view that there were cultic prophets beside the priests, with a defined place in the ritual of worship, and that in post-exilic times they developed into the singers of the Second Temple. Following Mowinckel again he held that some of the psalms were composed by cultic prophets for use in the ritual of the Temple [n4 Cf. The Labyrinth, pp. 80, 109, where Ps. cxxxii. 11-18 and cx are so interpreted. Cf. also H. Junker, Op. cit., pp, 38 ff,]. More recently he has published a monograph dealing with the first part of this thesis [n5 The Cultic Prophet in Ancient Israel, 1944.], leaving the second part to be developed in a forthcoming monograph, of which only the title is yet available [n6 The Cultic Prophet and the Psalter (cf, The Cultic Prophet in Ancient Israel, p. 5 n.). There is as yet no indication when this monograph may be expected.].
That there is not a little evidence in the Old Testament to support this view is beyond question. It is impossible to cite all the evidence here, and unnecessary since it can be found in the works of Mowinckel and Johnson. Briefly it may be noted that it rests on the frequent association of priests and prophets with one another and with the Temple, and of prophets with cultic occasions. A few examples, all from the Book of Jeremiah, may suffice. In Jer. xxvi we read that prophets and priests together heard Jeremiah's utterance in the Temple and together accused
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him to the authorities [n1 Jer. xxvi. 7, 11.]. Elsewhere Jeremiah links prophet and priest together, and declares that their wickedness has been found in the Temple [n2 Jer. xxiii. 11.]. In yet another passage he speaks of prophets uttering false prophecies and the priests ruling at their direction [n3 Jer. v. 3 I (R. S. V.; R. V. has 'by their means')]. Moreover, in the Book of Jeremiah we find a reference to a room in the Temple belonging to the sons of a prophet [n4 Jer, xxxv. 4. The term 'man of God' which stands in this verse is elsewhere frequently used for a prophet. Cf. 1 Sam. ix. 6 ff., 1 Kings xiii. 11, 18, 2 Kings v. 1. The phrase 'ns' lm is found in Ugaritic (C. H. Gordon, Ugaritic Handbook, 1947, p. 129, Text I, line 22); and E. Dhorme (R.B., xl (1931), p. 36) and H. L. Ginsberg (The Ugarit Texts, 1936, p. 112) connected this with the Hebrew 'ish 'elóhím = 'man of God'. Whether this stands for 'prophet' in Ugaritic is uncertain, however, Dhorme (loc. cit.) thought it meant 'the servant of the gods', and Gordon (Ugaritic Literature, 1949, p. 112) renders 'the servitors of the gods'.]. All of this and much more would seem to establish an association between prophets and priests, and in particular between prophets and the Temple.
Moreover, when the Shunammite woman wished to go to Elisha to tell him of the death of her child, her husband expressed surprise that she should go on a day which was neither new moon nor Sabbath [n5 2 Kings iv. 23.]. From this it is clear that it was customary to visit prophets on cultic occasions. An association between prophets and religious festivals, as well as between prophets and the Temple, seems therefore to be established.
This once more leaves open the question of the relation between the canonical prophets and such cultic prophets. Mowinckel distinguished between them, though, as will be seen, he blurred the distinction to some extent. One of the Swedish scholars has failed to find any distinction, and has claimed that all the Israelite prophets belonged to guilds of cultic prophets. Writing of him Eissfeldt says: 'The question whether the writing prophets belonged to the cultic associations is answered with an emphatic affirmative, and it is plainly laid down that no more difference is to be made between the writing prophets and their predecessors in this respect than in any other.' [n6 Cf, The Old Testament and Modern Study, pp. 123 ff.]
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The Swedish scholar in question is A. Haldar, who has carried 'patternism' to the length of equating all the Israelite prophets with guilds of diviners found in Babylonia [n1 Cf. Associations of Cult Prophets among the Ancient Semites, 1945.]. There we find evidence of guilds of diviners who bear the names of barfu and mahhu. The baru is defined as one whose divination depended on technical methods [n2 Ibid., pp. 6 ff.], and the mahhu as one who received his oracle in a state of ecstasy [n3 Ibid., pp. 21 ff.], but their functions are said to have overlapped, so that there was a 'cumul des fonctions' [n4 Ibid., p. 28.]. Haldar says it is 'obvious' that the Hebrew 'seer' and 'prophet' are essentially different from one another—though it will be seen later that this is by no means obvious—and he equates the 'seer' with the baru and the 'prophet' with the mahhu, and then proceeds to use the Babylonian material to interpret the function of the Hebrew seers and prophets [n5 Ibid., p. 124.]. Mowinckel had brought the cultic prophets into association with non-Israelite groups [n6 Cf. Psalmenstudien, iii. 5], but had not involved the theory of cultic prophets in such embarrassment as this extreme view threatened to do. Engnell had earlier held that Amos was a cultic official [n7 In Studies in Divine Kingship, p. 87, Engnell argued that the term nokeah, which is used of Amos in Amos i. 1 and of Mesha of Moab in 2 Kings iii. 4, denoted a cultic official, and in Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagsverk, i (1948), cols. 59 f., he directly states that Amos was a cultic official.], and in this he was followed by Haldar [n8 Op. cit., pp. 79 n., 112. Against the view of Engnell and Haldar, cf. K. Roubos, op cit., pp. 4ff.]. More recently it has been claimed that Amos was a hepatoscoper [n9 Cf. M. Bic, Vetus Testamentum, i (1951), pp. 293 ff. Against this cf. A. Murtonen, ibid. ii (1952), pp. 170 ff.], a mere technician in the art of reading liver omens on which to base his oracles. That there were diviners amongst the Israelite prophets is, indeed, quite certain from references found in the Old Testament. Micah says: 'The priests give direction for payment, and the prophets divine for money." [n10 Mic. iii. 11; cf. Ezek. xiii. 6, 9, xxii. 28.] It is almost certainly true that there were classes of diviners found in Israel, despite the condemnation of divination which we find
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in several passages [n1 Cf. Lev. xix. 26, Deut. xviii. 10, 1 Sam. xv. 23, xxviii. 2, 2 Kings xvii. 17, xxi. 6; also Isa. iii. 2, Mic. iii. I I, Jer. xxvii. 9, xxix. 8, Ezek. xiii. 6, 9, xxii. 28, Zech. x.2.]. Indeed, it is unlikely that we should have found such frequent condemnation if the practice had no footing amongst the people. But it is an abuse of 'patternism' to read the Babylonian situation into the Hebrew, and to reduce all the Old Testament prophets to divining classes [n2 H. J. Kraus (Gottesdienst in Israel, 1954, p. 110) says it is an undue simplification of the problems to dispose of the relations of the prophets to the cultus by the slogan 'cult-prophecy'. It is curious that he shows no acquaintance with the work of Haldar, but justifies this comment by a reference to the works of Mowinckel and Johnson. Probably both authors would say that this comment is an over-simplification of their view, and would doubt whether Kraus had read their works with sufficient care to understand them. As the present essay may sufficiently show, their work arose out of a protest against the older simplification, and they are careful not to fall into a new simplification, but to recognize that in dealing with Old Testament religion no simple dichotomies are justified.]. The 'Myth and Ritual School' did not begin in such doctrinaire rigidities.
It might seem, then, that we should draw as sharp a line between two sorts of prophet as was formerly drawn between prophet and priest, and that cultic prophets should be linked with the priests and set over against the canonical prophets as persons of a wholly different order, who should never have been designated by the same name [n3 A. Jepsen, Nabi, 1934, endeavours to establish this kind of sharp line between the greater prophetic figures of the Old Testament and the prophets of the nabhi' type, whose name has unfortunately become attached to them. His distinction is not between cultic prophets and non-cultic, but between professional prophets and non-ecstatic prophets. Its mistake lies, as so often, in the desire for something clear cut. N. W. Porteous (in Record and Revelation, ed. by H. W. Robinson, 1938, p. 233) says: 'It is difficult to believe that Jepsen is right in making the cleavage between nebi'im and canonical prophets as absolute as he does. His theory has the weakness of every theory which depends on a thoroughgoing revision of the text that is not at all points convincing. . . . It seems likely that they (i.e. the great prophets) had something in common with the nebi'im which made it natural for men to group them together with the latter.' A. Neher (L'Essence du Prophetisme, 1955, pp. 207 ff.) identifies 'nabism' with cultic prophecy, and holds that after the destruction of Shiloh the prophets substituted themselves for the priests and assumed priestly functions.]. We know beyond a peradventure that there were inner divisions between the prophets, and that each side accused the other of being false prophets. Jeremiah issued a sustained attack on the false prophets of his day [n4 of. Jer. xxiii. 9 ff.], and charged
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them with being poor technicians who stole one another's oracles to disguise their incompetence and lack of divine direction [n1 Jer. xxiii. 30.]. The Book of Deuteronomy bears witness to the prevalence and the danger of false prophets, when it twice offers guidance for their detection [n2 Deut. xiii. 1 if, xviii. 22.]. Unfortunately that guidance is not very clear" In one case it says that the prophet whose word does not come true is a false prophet; but in this case the guidance is too late to save people from being misled by his specious promises. In the other passage it says that even if the prediction comes true the prophet who draws people away from God is a false prophet; but since the prophets on both sides spoke in the name of God and claimed to be His mouthpiece, the bewildered hearers were not helped to distinguish between them. The fact that the compilers of Deuteronomy, who clearly wished to help men in this respect, could find no satisfactory way of doing so is sufficient to show that we cannot simply identify the false prophets with the cultic prophets and divorce the true prophets from the cultus. Had there been so unmistakable a principle of discrimination, Deuteronomy might have been expected to indicate it.
The inner division between true and false prophets first comes before us in the story of Micaiah, in the time of Ahab and Jehoshaphat [n3 1 Kings xxii. 5 ff.]. But Micaiah and the prophets who were opposed to him were as much, or as little, cultic prophets. They were clearly prophets of the same order, making like claims to utter oracles which Yahweh gave them, and Micaiah can only offer the explanation that Yahweh had suffered a lying spirit to mislead Zedekiah the son of Chenaanah [n4 1 Kings xxii. 21 if. Kraus (op. cit., pp. 114 f.) makes the astonishing assumption that this vision must have taken place at 'the amphictyonic centre', and that it provides evidence for his theory that the call of the prophets was associated with the Ark. This is pure eisegesis. There is no reference whatsoever to the 'call' of Micaiah, who was known to be a prophet long before this incident (cf. 1 Kings xxii. 8), and there is no suggestion whatever that when he was sent for he was in any shrine, or had to visit a shrine for this vision before he could come into the King's presence. Moreover, since Micaiah was a northern prophet, it is not clear how the Ark, which was at Jerusalem, comes into the picture at all.]. Similarly, when Jeremiah was ridiculed in the Temple by a prophet who spoke with a different
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voice from his [n1 ... tr er. XXVll1. I u.], it is apparent that both claimed a like status and a like inspiration, and once more the difference between true and false prophet is one which could not easily be discerned by the common people.
Clearly we cannot draw sharp lines to divide off the different classes of prophet from one another. That there were many varieties of them may be known with certainty. Apart from the term 'man of God', which stands for a prophet, we find the terms ro'eh and ho'zeh, both meaning 'seer', and nabhi', whose precise etymological meaning is not agreed [n2 Cf. The Servant of the Lord, 1952, pp. 96ff., where I discuss this question with reference to the views of other scholars.], but which certainly stands for various kinds of prophet. In I Sam. ix. 9 we find the terms ro'eh and nabhi' equated, and though it is probable that originally they stood for identifiably different varieties of sacred person, it is impossible to carry any distinction through the passages where the various terms are used. The passage in I Sam. ix. 9 says 'he that is now called a prophet (nabhi') was formerly called a seer (ro'eh)'. Both terms are applied to Samuel, and we find that Gad is called both a prophet and a seer in the same verse (the term for 'seer' being there ho'zeh) [n3 2 Sam. xxiv. 11.];
Of the varieties of the functioning of the persons described by these various terms a few examples must suffice. Samuel is found available for consultation at Ramah [n4 1 Sam. ix. 6ff.], where he apparently presides at a sacred feast [n5 1 Sam. ix. 22 ff.], and he tells Saul to await him at the shrine of Gilgal [n6 I Sam. x. 8.]. Ahijah is available for consultation at Shiloh [n7 I Kings xiv. 1 ff.], though it is improbable that there was a shrine there in his day [n8 The Danish excavations at Shiloh have shown that the place was destroyed in the eleventh century B.C. and that its occupation thereafter was very slight for some centuries. cf. H. Kjaer, Quarterly Statement of the Palestine Exploration Fund, 1927, pp. 202ff., 1931, pp. 71 ff., and A. Mallon, Biblica, x (1929), pp. 369ff.]. Gad is the king's seer [n9 2 Sam. xxiv. 11.], and there is no suggestion that he functioned in any shrine. Elisha is consulted in his own home by Naaman [n10 2 Kings v. 9.], and is summoned to the presence of the kings of Israel and
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Judah on a campaign against Edom [n1 2 Kings iii. 11.]. Nathan waylaid David on the roadside when he went to rebuke him for his conduct in relation to Bathsheba and Uriah [n2 2 Sam. xii. 1.], and an unnamed prophet similarly waylaid Ahab after a battle [n3 1 Kings xx. 38.], and Elijah on another occasion waylaid the same king [n4 I Kings xxi. 17 ff.]. In all these cases the prophet appears to have functioned as an individual figure in various places, and certainly not always in relation to any religious observance in a shrine, though sometimes he is found there. The prophet Samuel even exercised the priestly function of sacrifice [n5 I Sam. x. 8.]. On the other hand we sometimes find prophets in companies. There were such companies living at Bethel [n6 2 Kings ii. 3.], at Jericho [n7 2 Kings ii. 5.], and at Gilgal [n8 2 Kings iv. 38.], or prophesying by the wayside under the hill of Gibeah [n9 1 Sam. x. 5, 10.], or with Samuel at Ramah [n10 1 Sam. xix. 18 ff.]. Large numbers of Baal prophets were maintained by Jezebel [n11 1 Kings xviii. 19.], and at the end of Ahab's reign we find a similar group of Yahweh prophets at his court [n12 1 Kings xxii. 6.]. Evidence that some of the prophets found their oracles by divination has already been mentioned. Others were stirred to prophecy by music [n13 2 Kings iii. 15; cf. 1 Sam. x. 5. T. J. Meek (Hebrew Origins, 1936, p. 168; 2nd ed., 1950, p. 173) notes that in the latter of these passages there is no indication that the music was more than the accompaniment of the prophetic state, whereas in the former it was used to bring on that state. He therefore holds that this was a development of professionalism. 'One mark of this growing professionalism', he says, 'was the use of mechanical means to induce the prophetic ecstasy.' H. Junker (op. cit., p. 12) thinks the prophets in 1 Sam. x. 5 were returning from the shrine, and brings this passage into association, with the procession psalms.], or found their messages through dreams [n14 Num. xii 6, Jer. xxiii. 28.]. It is quite impossible to reduce all these to a single category of prophet, or to define which were true and which were false in terms of the place where they functioned or whether they functioned alone or in groups. All we can say with confidence is that the prophet was a sacred person, who could exercise his prophetic ministry in a shrine or elsewhere, and that hard and fast lines could not be drawn between the various kinds of prophet, or the relation of a prophet to God be deduced from the circumstances in which he prophesied.
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If there were cultic prophets who had a defined place in the ritual of the shrines, and who shared with the priests in the services which took place there as officials of the cultus [n1 N. W. Porteous (Expository Times, lxii (1950-1), p. 8) suggests that the cultic prophets were priests with an added gift. He says: 'May the supposed cult prophets not merely be priests who, like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, were specially endowed to undertake the sacramental side of worship, but unlike them, did not feel forced into an attitude of criticism toward the cult? Haldar's principle of cumulation of functions might very well apply here.'], it is impossible to suppose that the major canonical prophets exercised their ministry in this way. Here I am in the fullest agreement with T. J. Meek, who says: 'It is questionable whether many of the canonical prophets were cult officials, despite the opinion of modern scholars to the contrary.' [n2 Cf. Hebrew Origins, 2nd ed., pp. 178 ff.] It is true that Amos prophesied in the shrine at Bethel [n3 Amos vii, 10 ff.], but it is scarcely likely that it was as an official sharing in the sacred rite of the sanctuary that he functioned. Isaiah received his call in the Temple [n4 Engnell, in The Call of Isaiah, 1949, offers an interpretation of Isa. vi in terms of the New Year festival and the royal rites that belonged to it as the background of the prophet's experience.], either when he was actually in the Temple or present in vision only, but there is no reason to suppose that he was on its staff [n5 Cf. T. J. Meek, Hebrew Origins, 2nd ed., p. 179: 'It has sometimes been said that Isaiah was in the temple as a cult official when he had the vision of his call, but because he had a vision of Yahweh in the temple it does not follow that he was a functionary there, or that he was in the temple; he could have had such a vision anywhere and in any capacity.' Cf. also Roubos, op.cit., pp. 17 ff.]. Jeremiah prophesied in the Temple when he announced its destruction [n6 Jer. vii. 2 ff., xxvi. 2 ff.], but it could hardly have been as a participant in any official service. Haldar asserts that Jeremiah 'obviously' belonged to the Temple staff [n7 Op. cit., p. 121. Haldar refers to Jer. i. 1 et passim. Jer. i. 1 states that he was 'of the priests that were in Anathoth'. This would not make him a member of the staff of the Jerusalem Temple, and if it did it would be qua priest and not qua cultic prophet. It is commonly supposed that Jeremiah may have been a descendant of the Abiathar who was priest in Jerusalem in the days of David, but who was dismissed to Anathoth in the reign of Solomon (1 Kings ii. 26 f., 35). Cf. Roubos, op. cit., pp. 22 ff.], but to other scholars this is anything but obvious.
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On another occasion we find him prophesying in the Temple [n1 Jer. xxviii. 1 ff.], but following that incident we find that the exiles in Babylon ask why the Temple authorities cannot keep him in order [2 Jer. xxix. 24 ff.]. Within the Temple he is subject to the discipline of the Temple authorities, but there is no indication that the activities complained of were part of the organized worship of the Temple. Within the Temple precincts much went on besides the organized worship. In the New Testament we find Jesus teaching in the Temple [n3 Mark xi. 15 ff., 27 ff., xii. 1 ff., John vii, 14 ff.], though He cannot be supposed to have been a member of the Temple personnel. Just as He could gather a group around Him and speak to them, so, it may be presumed, Old Testament prophets could gather groups around them within the precincts of Temple or shrine, without necessarily being officially associated with the sanctuary.
Not all of Jeremiah's prophesying was done in the Temple. He could be sent for by Zedekiah to give him privately the word of the Lord [n4 Jer. xxxvii. 17 ff.]; he could go to the house of the potter [n5 Jer. xviii, 1. ff.], there to find a message for men, or the sight of two baskets of figs could prompt an oracle [n6 Jer, xxiv, 1 ff.]. Similarly Isaiah could go outside the city to meet the king and there deliver to him the word of the Lord [n7 Isa. vii, 3 ff.]. Though Ezekiel was a priest [n8 Ezek, i. 3.], his oracles are said to have been delivered in Babylonia, and there is no suggestion that any of them were given as part of a service of worship, or that he belonged to the personnel that conducted such a service. The theory of cultic prophets—and I would emphasize that it is a theory, though much seems to point to its soundness—does not mean that all the prophets of the Old Testament are turned into such prophets. On the other hand, it does not mean that all the cultic prophets are turned into false prophets. If the prophetic psalms were recited by cultic prophets in the ritual of the Temple, we must recognize that there were probably good and bad, true and false, amongst these prophets as there were amongst the others. At the same time, if this view is correct, it would reinforce the conclusion that the antithesis between priests and
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prophets is not to be overstressed, and lend support to the belief that while the prophets of reform certainly denounced the hollowness of much of the religious observance of their day, they were not opposed to all religious observance and did not advocate a religion without any corporate expression in worship. It is improbable that men whose function is denoted by a common term were at such irreconcilable cross purposes as they would in that case have been with the cultic prophets. There were good and bad prophets, and there were probably good and bad priests, and the divergence between the reform prophets on the one hand and the good cultic prophets and good priests on the other was probably that the former saw no value in the ritual of the shrines of their day—since men did not validate the rites by the spirit they brought to them—and saw no hope of any real amendment of men's evil ways, while the latter sought to invest the forms of religion with their true meaning [n1 Cf. H, F. Hahn, Old Testament in Modern Research, 1954, p, 14-1: 'With this altered perspective on the prophetic function, it was possible to see the priest and prophet, each in his own sphere, working for the furtherance of religion without being continually at cross-purposes. The priest had the help of the cult-prophet in teaching the significance of ritual actions; the canonical prophet added yet more by infusing religious worship with an ethical content.']. Beside them were doubtless the mere formalists on the cultic side, who were unconcerned for the spirit so long as the ritual was duly carried out, and the popular prophets on the non-cultic side, who would provide the oracle. that won them approval and profit, but who were insensitive to the Spirit of God.
Are we then to conclude that the only remains of the compositions of the cultic prophets are to be found in the Psalter, and that while the oracles of non-cultic prophets have been preserved in the prophetic canon, those of their cultic brethren have been anonymously preserved only in so far as they have secured a place in the Psalter? This would certainly be surprising. Most of the oracles in the prophetic books arose out of a given historical situation and were directed to people who lived in that situation. It is, of course, impossible to attach a precise date to the individual oracles, but the work of each prophet bears the marks of the period in which he lived.
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The psalms, on the other hand, do not appear to be addressed in general to a precise historical situation, and all attempts to date them with reference to such a situation have failed—with rare exceptions, such as Ps. cxxxvii. The failure here is quite different from the failure to give a precise date to the individual. oracles in the prophets. It is impossible to date the psalms within centuries, and the widest differences have prevailed amongst the scholars who have sought to define their age. The psalms appear to be related to ritual situations, which were recurrent, and therefore to have been used repeatedly in the appropriate circumstances. On Mowinckel's view many of them were related to the royal festivals, and especially to the New Year festival, in which he believed the cultic prophets played an important part [n1 Engnell says roundly that the only possible interpretation of the relevant psalms is that 'in their original situation the psalms at issue are to be judged as rituals directly referring to the functioning in the cult of the sacral King' (B.J.R.L., xxxi (1948), p. 56). On the function of the King in the cult cf. A. R. Johnson, Sacral Kingship in Ancient Israel, 1955, and his essay in the present volume.].
It will be remembered that in Mowinckel's formulation of the theory of cultic prophets he suggests that they did not merely recite stereotyped formulae, but that they experienced a rush of the Spirit and formulated on the spot the response which they made in the name of the congregation. Such impromptu responses would not all be equally impressive, and it is antecedently likely that the more successful would be recorded and found to be a present help in trouble by the less original technicians in this service [n2 Cf. Psalmenstudien, iii. 8. N. W. Porteous criticizes Mowinckel's theory that there were two sorts of cultic prophets. He says: 'He (i.e. Mowinckel) suggests that, while the nebhi'im were undoubtedly associated with the sanctuary, it was only certain among them who were actually admitted to be cult functionaries, the great majority being representative of the congregation and performing the orgiastic exercises on its behalf. The prophets, therefore, are to be thought of as representatives of the lay element in the worship. Is it then really necessary to suppose that we have two classes of prophets associated with the sanctuaries, namely a majority of lay prophets and a minority of cult prophets?’ (E. T., lxii (1950-1), p. 8).]. But if there were creative cultic prophets, it might be expected that on special occasions, and especially in moments of crisis for the nation, the responses of such prophets would have some relation to the situation, and would therefore be less suitable for inclusion in the Psalter, since they would not be the sort of responses that could be recurrently used.
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Moreover, apart from such responses, if many of the psalms were used to accompany ritual acts and were therefore liturgical texts, they may well be the composition of cultic prophets—not simply impromptu creations, but carefully and artistically prepared. For the special occasions special liturgical texts might have been prepared, and again these would be less suitable for inclusion in the Psalter.
It is not, therefore, surprising that some scholars have found traces of cultic liturgies preserved in the prophetic books, and one of the features of recent study of the prophets—not merely amongst members of the 'Myth and Ritual School' or the 'Scandinavian School'—has been the detection of such liturgies within the prophetic canon. Mowinckel believed that Joel and Habakkuk were liturgies to be attributed to cultic prophets [n1 Ibid., pp. 27 ff.], on the ground that they contain a mixture of passages in the style of psalm and prophecy. Humbert propounded the view that the book of Nahum was a prophetic liturgy, composed for the celebration of the fall of Nineveh in 612 B.C. [n2 Cf. Z.A.W. xliv (N.F. iii, 1926), pp. 266 ff., AfO. v (1928-9), pp. 14 ff., R.H.Ph.R. xii (1932), pp. 1 ff.; cf. also A. Weiser, Einleitung in das Alte Testament, 2nd ed., 1949, p. 192. A. Haldar (Studies in the Book of Nahum, 1947, pp. 3 ff.) rejects the view that the book is a liturgy (so also O. Eissfeldt, Einleitung in das Alte Testament, 1934, pp. 462 f.), but thinks it arose in a cult-prophetic circle and had a propagandist aim. Cf. Haldar's view as expressed in Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagwerk, ii (1952), cols. 417 ff.]. Balla took the view that Habakkuk was a liturgy [n3 Cf. Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart, 2nd ed., ii (1928), cols. 1556 f. Balla was followed by E. Sellin, Einleitung in das Alte Testament, 6th ed., 1933, p. 120. Cf. Weiser, op. cit., pp. 195 f.], and this was adopted by Humbert in an extended study of this prophet [n4 Cf. Problèmes du livre d'Habacuc, 1944, pp. 296 ff.; also Engnell, in Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagsverk, i (1948), cols. 769 ff.]. Engnell followed the view that Joel was a cultic liturgy [n5 Cf. Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagwerk, i (1948), cols. 1075 ff.], but Kapelrud has maintained that it was composed in the style of such a liturgy, rather than that it was ever used in the actual service of the Temple [n6 Cf. Joel Studies, 1948; cf. also Weiser, op. cit., p. 179. T. H. Robinson (in Robinson-Horst, Die Zwolf Kleinen Propheten, 1938, p. 63) had regarded Joel ii. 12-14 as a fragment of a penitential liturgy, and held ii. 19 to be taken from a liturgical text.].
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Once the suggestion of surviving cult liturgies in the prophetic books had been made, there was a tendency to find ever more such passages [n1 H. Gunkel found Isa. xxxiii to be such a liturgy (cf. Z.A.W. xlii (N.F. i. 1924), pp. 177 ff.), and also the end of Micah (cf. What Remains of the Old Testament, E. tr. by A. K. Dallas, 1928, pp. 115 ff.; cf. also A. S. Kapelrud, in Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagsverk, ii (1952), cols. 278 f.); G. Gerleman found the book of Zephaniah to be such a liturgy (cf. Zephanja textkritisch und literarisch untersucht, 1942).]. Engnell has gone so far as to divide the material found in the prophetic books into two main categories, the one being what he calls the 'diwan type', which consists of direct oracle, and the other the liturgical type, which is modelled on the cultic usage [n2 Cf. S.E.A., xii (1947), pp. 128 f., The Call of Isaiah, 1949, pp. 59 f., and Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagsverk, ii (1952), cols. 763 ff.]. He maintained that Isa. xxiv-xxvii, the so-called 'Isaiah Apocalypse', is of a liturgical character [n3 Cf. Svenskt Bibliskt Uppslagsverk, i (1948), col. 1031.], and further argues that the whole of Deutero-Isaiah is of this type. It is to be clearly emphasized, however, that he does not mean that the author was a cultic prophet attached to any sanctuary. Just as Kapelrud says that Joel was composed in the style of a cultic liturgy, so Engnell holds that Deutero-Isaiah was a prophetic imitation of a cultic liturgy. He therefore uses the word 'liturgy' in 'a strict form-literary sense, so that the question of its possible directly cultic connexion is left open' [n4 Cf. B.J.R.L. xxxi (1948), p. 64. W. Caspari (Lieder und Gottesspruche der Ruckwanderer, 1934, pp. 129 ff.) offers an elaborate examination of Deutero-Isaiah from the point of view of the cult, with which he associates it closely. The argument is often forced, however. K. Elliger (Die Einheit des Tritojesaia, 1928, pp. 15 ff., 24 ff., 29 ff.) finds liturgical passages in Isa. lix. 1-4, 9-18, lxi, lxii, and lxiii. 7-lxiv. 11.].
I am doubtful if cultic liturgies form any large part of the prophetic canon, though it may well be that some such passages have been preserved. Whatever can be read as oracle is more naturally to be read as oracle, and so far as the major figures are concerned—such as Amos, Isaiah, and Jeremiah—it is very hard to suppose that they were cultic prophets. Even if, as I believe, they did not hold the cult to be essentially and ineradicably evil, they regarded the worship of their day as hollow and vain, and it is more than doubtful if they took part as leaders and ministrants in ceremonies which they declared to be meaningless in their day.
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It is impossible, for instance, to think that Isaiah, who declared that it was idle for men to trample the courts of the Temple, and to keep sacred festival and offer sacrifice, since God, could only see the blood that was upon their hands—it is impossible, I say, to think that he should have participated in the service as a spokesman of the people whose sacrifice God repudiated by his mouth. It is even more difficult to think of Jeremiah fitting into the service as an official ministrant. Many scholars have believed that he declared that God had never ordained sacrifice at all, and not merely that contemporary sacrifice was an offence to Him. Though I do not share this view, I find it impossible to think that he had any use for the kind of services he witnessed in his day. In a city in which evil of all kinds was rampant, where men neighed after one another's wives and cheated and oppressed; where he felt that corruption had reached such a pitch that even if a single righteous person within it might guarantee its safety it yet could not be saved [n1 Jer. v. 1 ff.], the thronging of the Temple courts was an idle mockery and an affront to God, which he could only view with impatience.
So far as Ezekiel and Deutero-Isaiah are concerned, their work fell in Babylonia, in the period of the exile, and throughout most of the ministry of both the Temple was no longer standing. We know too little of the organization of the synagogue in that age—if indeed it existed—and there is too little evidence of cultic prophets ever functioning in the worship of the synagogue for it to be reasonable to treat Ezekiel and Deutero-Isaiah as cultic prophets. Only within very modest limits does it seem to me to be reasonable to find cultic liturgies preserved in the prophetic canon. It is not easy to think of the major prophets in that role, or to suppose that cultic liturgies which were composed by others have been attributed to them. The book of Nahum, which is so unlike the other prophetic books in character that some thought of Nahum as one of the false prophets against whom such men as Jeremiah stood, may have been such a liturgy. Its author was a brilliant poet, who described the fall of Nineveh, whether before or after that fall, with superb skill, and whether it was prophecy or liturgy, it is probable that it was recited with great satisfaction more than once after Nineveh had fallen.
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Though I am not inclined to find any large collection of cultic liturgies in the prophetic canon, I think it possible that some of the oracles were based on such liturgies. It is probable that the haunting and effective Song of the Vine in Isa. v was modelled on some well-known vintage song. It was only as it developed that the prophet's hearers began to realize that it was more than a vintage song. It is possible that occasionally the prophets may have modelled other passages on familiar liturgical compositions, in the way that Kapelrud supposes was done in the case of Joel, and Engnell in the case of other passages. If, then, I may sum up the fruits of the discussions of recent years, as they appear to me, they are far less substantial than some scholars have supposed. My own attitude to all these studies is one of great caution, and the more extreme of the positions I have indicated I have no hesitation in rejecting. It is wrong in method to impose the pattern of one culture upon another, and especially in this case. For we know that while Israel dwelt in a cultural milieu from which she undoubtedly derived much that found a permanent place in her religion, her prophets fought hard against some elements of that cultural milieu. Clearly, therefore, Israel is not to be understood simply in terms of that milieu, and that which she did not share with others is never to be forgotten. On the other hand, it is dangerous to forget the heritage she drew from the distant past and the influences she was subject to from those around her. The tendency of the more extreme exponents of 'patternism' to reduce all to a single character takes too little account of the evidence, and is much too simple to be probable. So far as the prophets are concerned, the imposition of a uniform type on them and the making of them all into cultic prophets seems to me to be another example of the same lack of penetration.
Happily not all of these studies have been of this Procrustean variety, and it is on this account that I find something of real value to have come out of them. The view that there were cultic prophets rests not on a priori ideas, and the forcing of
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foreign practices on the Old Testament, but on evidence that lies within the Old Testament. But that evidence tells of many varieties of prophet in Israel—varieties not alone of spiritual level, but of means of functioning. The prophet was always a sacred person because he was believed to be possessed by the spirit of God, but he was not necessarily, in virtue of being a prophet, appointed to a defined place in the worship of some shrine [n1 Cf. what the present writer has said in The Servant of the Lord, 1952, p. 105: 'Since prophets were religious persons, devotees of their God, it is natural to find them in the shrines in which religion centred. But that does not make them members of the staff of the shrines.']. Hence I accept the view that there were cultic prophets without turning the major canonical prophets into members of such guilds [n2 Cf. N. W. Porteous, E. T. lxii (1950-1), p. 7: 'It may be admitted that an impressive case has been made out for the existence in Israel of cult prophets forming a regular part of the personnel of the sanctuaries.' Porteous earlier on the same page says: 'Like the priests the prophets seem to have an official standing. Whether that inevitably points to their being actually cult officials is not so clear.']. On the other hand I do not divide the prophets into two sharply separated groups, but think they were divided as the colours of the rainbow are divided. The evidence that they were on the staff of any particular shrine is wanting, though there is no evidence against this; it seems to 'me to be more likely that any prophet was free to function in a shrine though not limited to such functioning, and the extent to which prophets exercised this freedom and the intimacy of their relationship to the ritual of the shrines varied greatly. The softening of the lines between the various groups of prophets, without their reduction to a common type, seems to me to be a great gain.
Similarly the softening of the lines between priests and prophets is in my view a gain. But once more the abandonment of the older, hard antithesis between these classes does not mean that no difference of attitude towards the cultus is to be found amongst prophets and priests. To think of prophets only in terms of the best and priests only in terms of the worst is unwise. There were good prophets and good priests, and while there was undoubtedly a difference of emphasis between them, they were all exponents of the same religion. The Bible contains the Law and the Prophets, and it would be curious if these were governed
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by irreconcilably opposed ideas as to the nature of religion and the will of God. The growing emphasis on the unity of the Old Testament reflected in the many books devoted to the theology of the Old Testament is not unrelated to the studies we have been reviewing.
So far as the preservation of prophetic liturgies in the prophetic books is concerned I am sceptical of the claims that are made to detect them. A few may have survived, and some passages may be based on such liturgies. But it is not here that I look for the solid fruits of these studies. Rather is it in the new light they have shed on the Psalter by bringing it into relation with both prophecy and the cultus. Here once more there has been a significant perception that beneath all its variety of form and of idea, the Old Testament has a deep unity, and that not alone the Law and the Prophets, but the Psalms have a real place in that unity, and, that all belong essentially together.
Brandon, S. G. F., The Myth And Ritual Position Critically Considered
SINCE the year 1795, when Charles-Francois Dupuis set forth the view [n1 L'Origine de tous les cultes ou la religion universelle (nouv. ed., Paris, 1822). On Dupuis see La Grande Encyclopedie, t. 15, p. 97. ct. G. Berguer in Histoire generale des religions, ed. M. Corce et R. Mortier, t. i (Paris, 1948), p. 8.] that behind the figures of Christ and Osiris, of Bacchus and Mithra, there lay a common tendency to personify the sun in its annual course, the comparative study of religions has been generally characterized by attempts to find some common interpretative principle which will account either for the origin of religion or for its essential structure. The motive behind such attempts is intelligible, and it may well be compared to the tendency manifest in many other disciplines to seek one simple formula which will explain an immense corpus of otherwise amorphous data. But these attempts, which have generally occurred successively and often in consequence of each other, have resulted in the history of the comparative study of religions assuming the appearance of a chronological record of the rise and fall of various so-called 'schools', which are severally distinguished by the peculiar theories concerning the origin or nature of religion which their members advanced or defended. Thus, to name but a few representative examples: the so-called 'Philological School' of Max Muller and his followers sought to account for religious origins in terms of a solar mythology by means of comparative philology [n2 e.g. Max Muller, 'Comparative Mythology' (1856), in Chips from a German Workshop ii (London, 1867). cf. L. Spence, Introduction to Mythology (London, 1921), pp. 4-7-51.]; the reactions which this line of interpretation provoked found a common expression in the efforts of those scholars who turned for a solution to anthropological research and of whom one of the earliest and most distinguished representatives, Sir Edward B. Tylor, set forth animism, i.e. 'belief in Spiritual Beings' as what he termed 'the minimum definition of Religion'. [n3 Primitive Culture i (London, 1929, 1st ed. 1871), 4-24.] An even greater name in this