Sin and Sanction in Israel and Mesapotamia: A Comparative Study

~A SEMITICA NEERLANDI

\

1 3 5 7 10 10 10 13 15 17 18 19 21 21

23 27 29 33 36 37 38

40 40 41

45 45 47 50

52 53

7. The curse as retribution 8. The autonomous curse 4. The Wrath of the Gods. Religious Interpretations of Adversity and Misfortune 1. Introduction 2. The emblematic sufferer 3. The emblematic sufferer in prayers of the individual and diagnostic texts 4. General considerations on illness 5. Leprosy 6. Dropsy, flux and related ailments 7. The diagnostic texts 8. The diseases caused by the curse 9. Isolated instances of punitive diseases 10. Potency, procreation and offspring 11. Social station, status and well-being 12. Intimations of divine disfavour 5. In Search of the Secret Sin. Confessions of Ignorance and Pleas for Illumination

The figure of the antithesis Socio-economic dimensions of the antithesis Socio-economic dimensions of Mesopotamian ethics Evaluation

61 67 72

75 77

80 82 85 87 89 94

100 102 111 113 117

Appendix 1. The ~igU prayers 2. Place and purpose of the 3. Texts

56 58

100

6. Class Conflicts and Moral Antithesis 1. 2. ·3. 4.

56

94 94 97

1. Introduction 2. Mesopotamia 3. Israel

dingir~adibba

prayers

117 121 124

Notes

155

Abbreviations

216

Bibliography

225

Index

253

Plates

VI

Preface

This book is the fruit of a project sponsored by the Netherlands Organisation for the Advancement of Pure Research Z.W.O. and carried out at the Free University in Amsterdam. Originally intended to be a study of the penitential prayers of the individual in Babylonia and Israel, it was soon given a much broader scope. As I was working on the texts I became increasingly interested in the complex of customs and convictions which these prayers presupposed. Fearing that a purely formal comparison would contribute little to the understanding of the texts, I have tried instead t.o investigate the essentials of the conceptual universe in which they are embedded. This involved an enquiry into Mesopotamian and Israelite ethics and etiquette, their religious validation and the interpretation of misfortune. Where Mesopotamian civil iza t ion is concerned, information about these questions is scattered over a multitude of articles, often written for a small circle of specialists. This compartmentalization of knowledge has certainly been an obstacle for Old Testament scholars who wished to pursue a comparative approach; with the present monograph I hope to have opened the field a little. Although also Assyriologists might find it useful to consult this survey, they will be primarily interested in the Akkadian texts published in the appendices and the accompanying contributions on the ~igu and dingir~adibba prayers. The intention to write for readers familiar with the Old Testament but unacquainted with many of the Akkadian texts and Assyriological periodicals, has influenced the choice of references. In discussing the biblical evidence I have rarely been exhaustive, as long as the texts could be shown to support the advanced assertions. Much of the secondary literature used will not be found in the notes; most of the relevant studies are mentioned in the theological dictionaries and can thus be easily traced. Conversely, I have tried not to be sparing in references to Akkadian texts and Assyriological studies; among the articles and monographs bearing on matters related to the Old Testament I have chosen to mention rather those which have remained largely unnoticed. Some books listed in the bibliography, yet never or very rarely mentioned in the notes, have exerted a greater influence on me than a single reference would suggest. Among these I owe a particular debt to E. Gerstenberger's dissertation Der bittende Mensoh (1971, published in 1980 as no. 51 in the series WMANT) , which has stimulated my interest in the search for the Sitz im Leben of the prayers. Although his approach is more sociologically orientated than mine,

VII

1. The Stage and the Players. Introduction to the Civilizations of Mesopotamia and Israel

I have greatly benefited from his studies. Several people have been closely associated with my research. Dr. C. Houtman suggested that I take up this subject; throughout the years I worked on it he has proved a source of encouragement and advice. Prof. K.R. Veenhof initiated me in the reading of the Akkadian prayers. His sustained interest in my investigation and his scholarly support have been most valuable. I owe a special debt to my supervisor Prof. M. Stol who has been very helpful with many bibliographical suggestions and pertinent critical remarks. To F.A.M. Wiggermann I should like to express my gratitude for a steady flow of stimulating suggestions; I have greatly benefited from his erudition. Dr. Th. Booij has given important support by reading the manuscript and by offering a number of penetrating comments. Prof. Ph.H.J. Houwink ten Cate of the University of Amsterdam gave me permission to publish his transliteration and translation of KUB 4,47, for which I wish to thank him. My gratitude also goes to Prof. W.G. Lambert who drew my attention to BM 72012 and offered some helpful suggestions for the interpretation of K.254+. I thank Prof. R. Borger for his kindness in sending me some information about several tablets in the Kouyunjik Collection. I am indebted to the Trustees of the British Museum for permission to publish copies of the various tablets. While acknowledging my debt to all of these persons, I accept full responsibility for the final product, which is herewith presented to the reader.

1.

Amsterdam, September 1984.

•

VIII

Problems and Prospects

A comparative study of ancient Mesopotamia and ancient Israel is a hazardous affair, especially when its scope encompasses a field so vast as that presently proposed. Assyriology is a relatively young branch of the humanities. The amount of material it still has to digest is enormous, and many are the enigmas it still has to solve. Under these circumstances, most evaluative remarks about the Mesopotamian culture will appear premature. Ancient Israel, on the other hand, has long been known through the Old Testament, yet the Old Testament is a perennial subject of conflicting views. Comparing the two civilizations may therefore seem tantamount to an expedition into a world of speculation. Yet the effort is worth making. Even if the results are bound to be contested or falsified by future discoveries, we have no reason to quail. Error in the sciences can be another name for the progressive approximation to truth. The very importance of the subject compels us to audacity, in the hope that the suggestions ventured today will instigate the investigations of tomorrow. This does not go to say that the present study is a mere patchwork of conjectures. The modern Assyriologist, armed with an adequate descriptive grammar and two sizeable dictionaries, can speak with greater confidence than his predecessors. Also, one should not exaggerate the abstruseness of the Old Testament; despite the apparent plurality of opinion it is not a bundle of contradictions. If the pretensions to final results must be modest, nevertheless a comparative study is not a pure fancy. A scientific curiosity about ancient Mesopotamia and interest in her culture is not without justification. Both the Hebrew and the Greek literary traditions, the two corner-stones of the European heritage, attest to the impact of the Mesopotamian civilization. Biblical authors have captured both the marvel and the horror inspired by "the greatness that was Babylon", and Greek historians have endeavoured to describe its political and cultural achievements. And yet these ancient witnesses of an early transcultural interest keep silence about the far more fundamental fact of the formative influence of the "Land between the Rivers" on its late born spectators. At present there is a growing tendency to emphasize the possibility of an eastern origin of many elements in the Greek culture, while the contention of a historical interweavement of the Bible with the principal cultures of the ancient Near East cannot lay

claims to novelty. Consequently there is the excitement of descending our own pedigree when studying the languages and civilization of ancient Mesopotamia. The realization of the kinship of Mesopotamia and Israel seems to have come as a greater emotional shock to most scholars than did the remnants of eastern culture in the classical heritage. Christianized Europe had dispossessed the Bible of its oriental ancestry and, as the reports of the excavations came to the knowledge of a larger public, rediscovered that the Old Testament was solidly rooted in a foreign soil. The customary vantage point, from which one looked back at the Scriptures through their western interpretation and their effect upon the society one lived in, could be exchanged for a different one, from which their historical and cultural bed could be surveyed. The new possibilities of investigating the relations between Babylonia and the Bible were, broadly speaking, exploited in two ways. Scholars either stressed the similarities or insisted on the contrasts. l The pioneers in this field, a little dazed by the recent discoveries, tended to emphasize the features that Mesopotamia had in common with the Old Testament. Some were even willing to maintain the inferiori ty of the latter and its dependence on the former. 2 Once the first wave of sentiment had receded, impressions could make way for research and a more sober appraisal of the facts emerged. Under the influence of the stress laid on the Eigenbegriffliehkeit of the ancient cultures by such eminent scholars as B. Landsberger and Th. Jacobsen, the interest shifted towards the distinctive elements of each civilization. The sheer obsession with the tracing of origins was largely abandoned, since it was grasped that "where a concept, symbol or practice can be shown to have been brought into a society by a particular group, the subsequent significance and development of that concept, symbol or practice, from the moment of introduction onwards, is conditioned by the total society into which it was introduced, not by the society from which it came.,,3 The civilizations of ancient Mesopotamia and ancient Israel, despite their incontrovertible entanglements, have to be valued each for its own contribution to the cultural history of mankind. The errors and exaggerations of the earlier period, however, must not deter us from the effort of comparison. A return to the "splendid isolation" from which biblical studies have suffered in the past cannot be seriously contemplated. The traditions of Mesopotamia and Israel are mutually illuminating; their simultaneous study will prove fertile to the knowledge of both and will give us greater insight into the proper and inalienable quality of both. In order to pursue the latter purpose, however, the relevant material needs to be submitted to the dispassionate scrutiny of the student. Apologetics may benefit from the conclusions of comparative research, but they should not determine its results. Because of "the necessity of balancing details within a total perspective",~ some preliminary observations concerning the fundamental similarities and dissimilarities in sociological and ideological structure between Mesopotamia and Israel recommend themselves. They form the background against which the data dealt with in the follow2

ing chapters must be appreciated. After the exposition of the various components of the complex of sin and sanction we shall return to the question of differences in the last chapter. 2.

Elements of Disparity between Israel and Mesopotamia

In respect of the socio-economic structure one may contrast the Israel of the Old Testament and ancient Mesopotamia as tribal versus urban. A considerable amount of caution is required here, though, since Mesopotamia did proceed from a tribal stage and preserved, throughout its evolution, remnants of this past. 5 Israel, on the other hand, also developed towards the functional complexity and differentiation characteristic of an urbanized society with a market economy. However, the evolution towards urbanization and the resulting social stratification of Mesopotamia took place before the creation of its great literary works. 6 The latter reflect in consequence the climate and the temper of the city states. The creation stories hardly deal with the genesis of the animals, whose existence is mostly taken for granted. 7 The Old Babylonian Epie of Gilgames celebrates the city life through the account of the progressive acculturation of Enkidu, who is severed from the barbarian life in the steppe. Throughout Mesopotamia's history there runs a strong current of contempt for the nomads living on the fringes of the cities. 8 This social setting favoured social mobility and hence competition, the rise of individualism, and the concomitant nationalism (or regionalism) . Israelite society did in comparison benefit from a greater social stability. Tribal allegiance kept in check for a long time the desire for individual expansion, though things did change after the institution of the monarchy, the national unification and the rise of a market economy. Still the old alignments continued to exercise their influence throughout the Old Testament period. "Urbanization" would be a misnomer for the prevalent mode of habitation, i.e., the settlement in small towns, divided into quarters where the various cultural components of the population were free to maintain their own way of life. 9 The deportation of the leading classes at the exile entailed important social shifts, yet the books of Ezra and Nehemiah show that in the post-exilic period clan loyal ism remained an important factor. IO Under the pressure of a succession of occupying foreign powers the time-honoured structures were finally eroded. The ancient ties were never completely erased, but they ceased to be decisive, till at last individual competition in a racially mixed society supplanted the solidarity of clans in a compartmentalized nation. Each social structure demanded its own type of government. For Babylonia and Assyria this meant kingship, of which the Sumerian Kinglist says that it descended from heaven. The increasing complexity of the Mesopotamian society necessitated a proportional development of regulating instances. In the course of time an institutional hierarchy came into being, a sophisticated structure of functions and positions with ample opportunity for intrigues and 3

favouritism. The recurrent demand in the Akkadian prayers for intercession with the king by courtier and royal attendant reflects the distance between the ruler and the ordinary suppliant. l l Although kingship did for a long time determine the political constellations of Judah and Israel, it was a relatively late development designed to put an end to the anarchy of the period of the Judges. The court did not attain a degree of bureaucracy of Mesopotamian dimensions. According to the historical books, the subjects of the king had a fair chance of obtaining access to him. 12 Moreover, the dictatorial aspirations of the king were kept in check by the landed gentry class. This upper class, whose powers crumbled off from the Solomonic age onwards, had a key role in the preservation of the cultural heritage, including the ethos of politics. Their presence bridged in a sense the yap between the centralized government and the tribal organization. 3 These socio-economic differences, for all the importance they may have, are overshadowed by the theological disparities. lit The latter are so obvious that one does not need to expatiate on them for long. Mesopotamia's religion was a receptive form of polytheism, "an open system, •.. a kaleidoscopic repertoire of divinities who personify various aspec ts of reali ty. "IS These gods, 1 ike humans, were subject to spite, lust and rage. Each one of them tried to realize his own aims, if need be to the detriment of his colleagues. Similarly to the members of an oriental court they sought to decide upon a common course, which would be settled in their heavenly council. With regard to mankind their interests ran largely parallel: their servants were expected to be quiet, to keep the land in good order and to attend to the needs of their creators. 16 Yet the manifold requests for divine intercession show that also towards man the gods had no complete unity of purpose. For the ordinary Babylonian the pantheon, much like the royal administration, remained a remote reality that could hardly command his piety. Although some gods like Samas, Marduk, Htar and a few others seem to have had a broad popular appeal,17 the religious sentiment of the individual focused on his personal gods, his divine creators and protectors. lS They were supposed to secure his success and to plead his cause with the higher deities. Through this construction the social individualism noted earlier was paralleled by a religious individualism - if at least we allow that term to comprehend an entire family, since the personal deities were generally inherited from the parents and shared with the other next of kin. The plurality of the Mesopotamian religion is poles apart from the monotheism of Israel. In so saying we must be aware that we are speaking of Israel as presented by the Old Testament. There are good grounds for assuming that a tenacious syncretism, lasting at least until the exile, was concealed by an historically selective and dogmatically eclectic tradition. 19 If we were studying the various aspects of popular devotion and belief in their historical manifestations, we would have to submit the biblical text to a methodical scrutiny on this point, but this is not my purpose. We wish to compare two religious systems in their canonical expression (cf. §4). Without raising the issue of the antiquity and the historical ori4

gins of monotheism,20 it suffices to observe that it, by its very nature, overcomes the religious subjectivism that prevails in polytheistic societies. The LORD was a jealous God who claimed the exclusive adoration of both the individual and the nation. His plans and commands could not be thwarted by dissentient colleagues. After the fading into insignificance of all other deities, the believer had no longer any excuse to shirk his obligations of obedience to the one God remaining. Although one should not oversimplify the contrast between Babylonia and the Bible, as though a mass of contradictory demands was opposed to an unequivocal and monolithic will, the difference remains of decisive impact. God's precepts were not always clear; with time and circumstance their content might change. Yet throughout the Old Testament the sentiment that the commandments enlighten man in his moral predicament predominates. References to deceptive ordinances 21 remain a marginal theme, that can never be considered the core of the prophetic message. Nor should one interpret the uncanny sides of God's holiness as demonistic traits, thus positing a duplicity in his essence. 22 Terrifying though his manifestations to the individual could be,23 they were not experienced as a negation of the unity of his purpose. 21t This gulf between Israel and Mesopotamia was conducive to an important difference in religious climate. For the Mesopotamian, "wisdom lay in maintaining a 'low profile', threading one's way cau~V/ tiously and quietly through the morass of life, ..• attracting the VI{;: gods' attention as little as possible.,,2s The receptivity of the open pantheon was matched by a religious tolerance and flexibility, capable of absorbing very diverse beliefs and practices. This flexibility meant that the Babylonian culture could eventually be superL:e~~~ by a foreign civilization, and only fragments of its heritage u ived the change in cultural climate. Israel's faith on the contrary demanded ardour. The religious sentiment was not dispersed but concentrated on the worship of the one acknowledged LORD. The claims to exclusiveness commanded religious intolerance and inflexibility. These were to prove a cause of tension, collision and separation within the nation, which was surrounded by other faiths that to a large portion of the populace seemed more attractive. Yet it is due to the stubbornness of the Old Testament faith that it did not disappear with the diaspora, but , stands at the cradle of three contemporary religions. 3.

Common Orientations in Mesopotamia and Israel

To some, the differences outlined above may seem so far-reaching as to invalidate any comparison beforehand. Yet there are a fair number of grounds on which the effort can be defended. These include the argument of contingency, scarcely refutable in its simplicity. Where two kindred cultures have 1 ived wi thin the same geographical and historical circumference they must have had a community of experience, the different assimilations of which are sufficiently interesting to be studied side by side. The cogency of this justification can be consolidated by some 5

and politics of revolutionary designs, and in religious doctrine of all intention to transmute the existing order. When considered against this background the modern world seems pervaded by the hope of progression. Dissatisfaction with the present has been infused by a belief in the possibilities of amelioration. This has given rise to a cultural and religious policy which considers change its highest aim. It might be pointed out that the three alleged oppositions are somewhat artificial because they imply a considerable straining of the evidence. Even if the validity of this objection be acknowledged, the previous "over-statements" may be justified if it is agreed upon that in order to characterize a civilization, one is obliged to select its most conspicuously individual features, even if this necessitates a distortion of the general picture.

observations concerning the congeniality of thought between the two civilizations. A comparative study of Mesopotamia and Israel, attractive because of a similarity in situation, is made possible by a similarity in their intellectual orientation. The likeness of their world-views and modes of perception can be grasped when they are set off against those endorsed by modern men. Three points suffice to illustrate this contention. In order to justify the world and its history the ancients had recourse to a religious model in which all events were ultimately caused by God or the gods. In accordance with the usual characteristics of "Semitic" religion, these supernatural beings were conceived as persons, endowed with a will that could be influenced by human prayer. 26 Although many of our contemporaries will at least profess something very similar, the prevailing view of our time is a materialistic one. Things and events are not thought to depend on the whims or will of a higher being, but to follow mechanically their inevitable course from material cause to material effect. Human action may influence the shape of events, not by prayer but by direct intervention. The problem of man's moral responsibility and the ensuing question of sin will appear in a totally different perspective according to their being placed in the context of the one or the other world-view. A further similarity between Mesopotamia and Israel in contrast to modern western civilization revolves around the way in which the intellect proceeds. The ratiocinative faculties of the ancients were predominantly governed by the principle of association. The disparate elements of experience were assembled and discovered to have a meaningful connection through the perception of some common quality, be it sound, colour, name or whichever other attribute. Association, too, was the instrument by which emotions and events could be concentrated and projected into symbols, which in turn formed a fund of conventional imagery on which speculation could draw. The study of the alleged relations between illness and misconduct will show some of the results of these methods. The mental capacity of the Westerner, on the other hand, is largely directed by the principle of dissociation. Things are separated into their smallest constituent parts in order to discover their essence. For many this mental habit has led to a corresponding crumbling and fragmentation of experience, the unity of which may be temporarily recovered through an occasional relapse into an ancient mode of thought. This second gap between moderns and ancients could be related to the first, when it is accepted that the techniques of the ancients were based on a confidence in the cohesion and purpose of the universe, while the spirit of the moderns suffers from a methodological doubt. A third convergence concerns the basic conservatism of the civilizations of Mesopotamia and Israel. Of course there is evolution, and the Old Testament contains the notion of an historical end, but there is no belief in an ongoing process of melioration. 27 The ideal condition belongs to the past, and prudence counsels the preservation of the status quo. In keeping with this view there is an absence in the juridical system of ideals of re-education, in ethics

The proportions of the subject that is going to be treated necessitate a limitation of the terms of reference. In our discussion we shall largely disregard the questions of historical development, cultural and sociological pluralism, and ultimate theological truth. The intentional neglect of these three issues calls for a brief commentary. Considered from an outsider's point of view, the religions of Mesopotamia and Israel observed in their hey-day are each the fruit of a tradition that spans several centuries. This holds true for their writings, and also for their tenets. The beliefs of one time gave way to the convictions of another time, which in their turn could fall into abeyance in a later period. Unawareness of these fluctuations exposes the student to the danger of contrasting elements taken from dissimilar stages. Thus, the deification of human rulers prevalent in early Mesopotamian religion cannot be opposed to the prophetic rebukes of the all-too-human Israelite kings, unless one admits the limited value of the comparison. A selective approach without reference to the historical growth distorts the image. Without underestimating these risks, however, it must be maintained that it is possible to disentangle the essence of a religion from its successive appearances. Otherwise we should have to give up the very notion of Israelite and Mesopotamian religion altogether and find substitutes for each period. The distinction between essence and historical manifestation coincides largely with the distinction between principle and application. The present study has been undertaken in the conviction that an examination of the various forms should culminate in an assessment of the permanent core. A collateral justification of this deductive operation may be found in the conservative tendencies of the cultures under investigation: they did not adhere to a belief in evolution, by which earlier tenets would simply be superseded and invalidated by new ones. The history of a religion, however, is not merely a succession of shifts and changes but a progressive disclosure of its inner dynamic. When a civilization is put to the test of time it will in due

6

7

4.

Scope and Interest of the Present Investigation

course expel those constituents of its religion which prove untenable in the new situation. If a tree is to be judged by its fruit, a religion may also be evaluated by its Wirkungsgeschichte. Its posterity reveals something of its essence, even if the offshoots are misinterpreting their inheritance. A diachronistic study from these perspectives will not contradict but refine the findings of a synchronistic examination. However, for reasons of convenience I have relegated the discussion of this process of fermentation to a separate chapter. The second issue concerns not the "horizontal" but the "vertical" differentiation. When a society is made up of several social and cultural layers it cannot be assumed that all hold the same opinion. Recent studies have tended to stress the difference between popular piety and official religion,28 and even this twofold division is far too simplistic to do the entire spectrum justice. Are we not forced to admit the lopsidedness of our evidence, since the reigning classes are usually also the writing classes? This problem urges us to define precisely the meaning of such terms as Mesopotamian and Israelite religion. In both instances the nomenclature refers to the canonical religions represented by the respective bodies of canonical literature. "Canonical" is not necessarily conterminous with "official"; for long periods of Israel's history the official religion was some form of syncretism. The canonical faith would have been the affair primarily of an elite, its main trustees and transmitters. This elite cut through the social strata, though its members would have tended to spring from a limited number of closely related classes. In the normal course of events the teachings of this elite would percolate down from class to class till all were more or less effectively reached. In spite of the distortions occurring in this process of dissemination the canonical religion can therefore be regarded as representative of a culture. Unless our principal interest lies in the peculiar deviations of the populace, the comparison will be most profitable when directed at the canonical religion. 29 Besides the motives of principle, there is the practical side to consider. One would be hard pressed to write an account of the various religious views and practices of different social strata on the basis of the documents at our disposal. Any sifting among the canonical writings is inevitably tinged with subjectivism, while the archeological evidence is often liable to misinterpretation and cannot lead us beyond an extremely fragmentary reconstruction. However cogent these observations though, they are not sufficient to dismiss the sociological issue altogether. Here once more, it is essential to put the question in its proper perspective. According to the view of the present writer, a religion can be described independently from a sociological study. An examination of the changing relations between religious belief and social realities, on the other hand, can help us to a better comprehension of a religion's nature. Did it foster unity or did it foment division? Did it lead to a complacent acceptance of the social order or was it a cause of upheaval? These matters are intimately related to the questions of historical development and will therefore be tackled along8

side the latter in the sixth chapter. The third point, dealing with the objective validity of the propositions of each religion, will remain entirely outside the scope ~f thi~ bo~k. Irrespective of their credibility, the religions under 1nvestlgat10n have proved a viable organization of human experience over a suff iciently long period of time. During a study of their various phenomenological manifestations, judgment about their metaphysical exactitude should be temporarily suspended. That battle must be fought on other grounds. Far from diminishing the interest of a comparative study, the threefold restriction advocated above indicates its scope. A simultaneous treatment of two different religions should bring out both their common and their distinctive features. When that goal is reached we may hope to come away with a clearer vision of our past and a keener appraisal of our present.

•

9

Before I begin the exposition of the central moral concerns, an indication of the different sources of our information may be helpful to form an idea of the diversity of witnesses. A few words of comment should clear the path to a critical appraisal of their testimony. The distinction between Gebrauohaaohrifttwn and the "Stream of Tradition" gives us a practical division.! Under the latter are ranged the legal, sapiential, religious, historical, literary and scientific texts. Such compositions were handed down from one generation to the other and eventually resulted in a representative body of texts with authoritative value for the culture from which they sprang. Their "canonicity" needed not be formal; it could be a matter of tacit consent. The fact remains that they hold a privileged position compared with the isolated "non-canonical" texts that are of a similar nature, but which were rejected or discarded during the selective process of transmission. 2 Clearly distinguished from these time-honoured works are the one-time documents intended to communicate a private message or to record a legal or administrative situation: letters, juridical documents and administrative records. The Mesopotamian soil has yielded a huge amount of such texts. 3 Besides the sparse remnants of the epistolary texts in the Old Testament, there are only very few

samples of Gebrauohaaohrifttum found by archeologists to enlighten q us on the Israelite position in this respect. The contribution of such evidence to our ideas on the morality of the ancient Near East is important, but unfortunately very small. Letters testify to the practical interest of certain themes but usually leave so mucht unsaid that it is often difficult to adduce them as proof of a specific rule. The terse legal documents describe particular situations and solutions, the result of an ad hoc application of certain ~rinciples, the nature of which cannot always be determined, or may be so general as to add nothing to the insights gained from elsewhere. They are not to be neglected, however, even if their interest lies largely in a somewhat different realm. They show the distance that could separate the actual jurisprudence from the rules propounded by, and laid down in, the so-called "law codes", on whose character they thus shed sometimes an unexpected light. s For all the rewards a study of the occasional texts may grant, we naturally approach the stream of tradition in a more expectant mood. Its components, fruits of study and reflection, destined to lasting glory and often claiming divine inspiration, promise to lead us to the place where we can admire the sacred values and lofty ideals of the civilizations that formed them. Yet their information cannot always command unconditional acceptance. It has not always been veracity that has moved the author; propagandistic motives or the desire to please and to flatter the client played their part. This certainly holds true for the historically oriented texts, a category well represented in both literatures. 6 National, regional, local or personal interests could be decisive factors in shaping the past. Akkadian royal inscriptions always glorify the king, acclaiming his piety, wisdom and righteousness, as opposed to the depravity of his opponents. The horrors encountered in "pacified" territories are vehemently denounced, while the social reforms enacted by the ruler are exalted. The partiality of these texts also eXpresses itself in the religious framework, since politics and religion were intricately entangled. But if the facts bear the mark of a parti-pris, the values put forward were not arbitrarily manipulated. Even if the events and virtues belonged to an illusory ideal state, not materially present, their appeal was commonly felt, otherwise the texts would have missed their aim. 7 The tendency of the Old Testament historical texts, on the other hand, is dominated less by political than religious ideals. Thus an internationally known figure like King Omri may be dealt with in two phrases and the great David himself be overtly criticized. Here the point of view does affect the way in which the behaviour is judged, although it must be borne in mind that the criteria are religious rather than ethical. By virtue of their outlook the historical books of the Old Testament usher us into the domain of religious works. Presently I shall make a few observations concerning the latter category. The bulk of the primarily religious texts consists of prayers for recitation in the cult, ritual instructions for the religious specialists and classical commemorations of the deities' deeds. Penitential prayers like the dingirsadibbas sometimes mention the sinner's reprehensible

10

11

2. Ethics and Etiquette. Rules for Proper Conduct and Correct Behaviour

1.

Introduction

When we turn our attention to the legacy of civilizations beyond our contemporary cultural horizon, self-restraint must be our constant companion. The mind must be cleared from the preconceptions and the cliches which will result in a distorted reflection of the past. The wise Egyptian, the noble Greek, the pious Jew and the cruel Assyrian who inhabit our imagination must be put to the test of the textual evidence. Does it lend its support to the traditional epithets? Do the records witness indeed to the moral superiority of the Old Testament ethics over the behavioural codes of ancient Mesopotamia? In order to attain a balanced view of the ideals of conduct in force among the Israelites and the Babylonians we will explore the documents they have left us and present our findings arranged according to subject-matter. 2.

Sources

actions, and the Surpu series, designed, to u~do the aspell ~f ~he curse contains an extensive list of poss1ble m1sdeeds. The b1b11cal ps'alms also formulate confessions of guilt and, protestations of innocence both of which are relevant for our subject. Numerous ~e­ scription: of the suppliant's enemies !~eld indirect a?d negat1ve information about the moral presuppos1t10ns of the fa1thful community. Detailed descriptions of cuI tic ceremonies are not concerned with ethics as we understand them; they focus on what can be termed I the etiquette, the seemingly arbitrary rules of con~uct to be observed in the intercourse with the gods. As such the l1sts of tabooed food sacred animals and the like are founded on the ethical command , ' ' 1 1y to worship the god in a proper manner. 9 Ba b y l on1an my th s occaS10na mention offences committed in a remote past. They shoul,d not be ~sed as the main source of information ahout Mesopotam1an mora11ty, though, since their intention is aetiological, and the sometimes burlesque and crude explanations they offer are not meant to be read lD as ethical prescriptions. Narrative texts are not solely concerned with celebration of the mighty deeds of the gods. Secular topics like friendship and human ll ingenuity are treated in epics. and tal:s. Inten~ed for amusement and diversion rather than as 1nstruct10n, the g11mpses they offer into moral issues are mostly an accidental reward of their study. Unfortunately the Old Testament does not possess a proper equivalent of this category. The tales of the patriarchs and the "Success~on History" (1 Sam.9 - 2 Sam.]) , the most likely candidates t,o qual1fy as the Israelite counterparts, are permeated by theolog1cal considerations. This makes them essentially illustrations of the LORD's sway over history, the stage where his promises are fulfilled. Among the "scientific" or, more neutrally and ,perhaps better, "technical" Mesopotamian texts relevant to our enqu1ry are the collections of laws, omens and hemerologies. 12 Al though divergent ~n subject-matter these different types of literature have the1r characteristic sentence structure in common. They present themselves as collections of small units, each consisting of a conditional protasis followed by a concluding apodosis: if this, then that. Students of ancient oriental law are used to referring to this phenomenon as casuistic law and opposing it to apodictic law, as exemplified in the Ten Commandments. Although this is formally correct, the alleged contrast could give fuel to the misapprehension that the Babylonians were incapable of rising above the particular circumstances and of formulating a general rule. The Babylonian and Assyrian laws se:ved the same purpose as those of the Old Testament. They are exerc1~es in juridical thinking. By presenting ideal, classic cases in wh1ch the defendant's blameworthiness is unambiguously clear, they mean to sharpen one's sense of justice and one's insight into the application of the general principles. 13 In the Codex ~ammurapi the general principles are formulated in the prologue •. Re~ords of, court proceedings and verdicts show that the judges often d1d not st1ck to the verbal articles of the law.l~ Apparently these were not a binding codification, but had an exemplary and sometimes even utopian character. IS Much the same can be said about the Old Testament "laws". In both civilizations the legislative texts have affinity 12

with the ideals and tendencies of the wisdom texts. Solomon's wisdom is illustrated by his wise verdict (1 Kin1s 3), ~ammurapi presents his laws as a token of his royal wisdom,l and according to Deuteronomy 4,6, Israel's laws should elicit admiration 'for their wisdom. Omens and hemerologies are absent from the Old Testament. The omen literature, a monument of Mesopotamian learning, consis ts of detailed descriptions of thousands of imaginable situations, each of which is accompanied by an interpretation of its meaning. At first sight these texts may seem to offer little to further us in our search. Certain groups of omens, however, dealing with phenomena in human conduct and behaviour, are based on ethical speculations that can be condensed into a few general principles. A telling illustration is offered by the so-called FUrstenspiegel or Speculum principis, in which the ethics of the royal office have been cast into the form of the omen. Sections of the series Summa iilu deal with religious ethics in a similar fashion. 17 Hemerologies and menologies form a special branch of the omen literature by their introduction of the time element. Circumstances and actions are set against a temporal axis, their significance depending on the day and/or month. Besides simple observations they also give advice, which mostly concerns religious etiquette. Finalli~ we consider the wisdom literature among the stream of tradition. Proverbs and didactical sayings can be characterized as Bildungsliteratur intended to induce the pupil, usually adolescent, to adopt certain attitudes. Moral considerations play an important role in these teachings, but they go hand in hand with utilitarian motives. Laziness is condemned not so much because it is intrinsically evil, but because it leads to poverty. 19 More sternly religious and ethical is the atmosphere in compositions that deal with the problem of the theodicy. Such texts, well represented in both cultures, are important to the whole of our study, since they try to come to grips with the adversity that befalls the righteous man in spite of his righteousness. 2 D The contradictory situation they describe paves the way for a dawning meta-ethics, in which the foundations of the accepted code of behaviour are questioned. 3.

"Honour Thy Father and Thy Mother

"

Before we explore the foundations on which the moral code rests I shall give an outline of its content, beginning with the social ethics. The various themes can be conveniently grouped around five apodictic sentences of the so-called second table of the Ten Commandments. These general precepts concerning the social conduct of the Israelites can be considered programmatic statements which bring in their train a set of related rules. Without forcing the material the issues encountered in the Mesopotamian texts can be divided under these five headings. The first encounter with the hierarchical structure of society was made within the family. Filial submissiveness to the parents could therefore be considered the paradigm of all other relationships of authority and obedience. Disruption of the family bonds 13

himself abou~ the father, nor the father about the son; amid laughter the mother wlll plot her daughter's evil. ,,36 This blunt egoism and rivalry, obliterating the family loyalty, is an image frequently used to conjure up the disorder one encountered in times of crisis. 37 Among the children there exists a certain hierarchy determined by t~eir respective age and sex. Hostility against the eider brother or dlsrespect for the elder sister are listed among the possible sins of the confession catalogue of SUp,pU. 38 A Babylonian tablet has left us the information that a certain Hulalum has been detained because he hit his "big brother". 39 Since the latter term can also designate the advanced student assigned to a beginning apprentice we do not know if this was familial disloyalty. At any rate dis~ ' ' , respect 0 f one s soclal superior was equally an offence , d 40, , witness the W1S om texts. Projected on a larger scale it would cause national uphe~val. If the ~ord i,n the Dia,logue of Pessimism may contemplate leadlng a revolutlon wlthout belng reproved by his servant it is due to the particular character of the text. 41 Generally thi~ could not be done wi,th impunity. In EnUma elis Kingu is tried for incitement 42 to rebelllon and subsequently killed before the assembly of the gods. The righteous sufferer claims that he taught the populace respect for the palace, 4 3 and behavioural omens promise length of days to the one who blesses the king.44 In the Israelite texts the injunction to respect people in authority is often expressed as a warning not to "curse" prince or king. 45 As its converse one notices a concern that the king should not look with contempt upon his brethren n?r abuse his,powe~s.46 Such a fear of despotism can equally be sensed ln Mesopotamlan pleces of advice to a king. ~7

spelled the destruction of the entire social fabric. When King Esarhaddon describes the moral evils that had stricken Babylon before he could establish his rule there, the disrespect shown by the children is naturally related to the disobedience of the slave. "The son cursed his father in the street, the slave [did not obey] his master, [the slave-girl] did not heed [the command] of her mistress. ,,21 I t is in accordance with the spirit of the texts that we extend the demand for filial loyalty to the expected attitude towards all those who hold a position of superiority and command. The theme of filial love comprises innumerable aspects; it is interesting to note how these have been condensed into a few topoi that are more or less common property of the ancient Near East. Children should abstain from the use of physical or verbal force against their parents. The Book of the Covenant determines that one who strikes his father and his mother is liable to the death penalty22 and a Middle Babylonian document speaks of a man who is held in cus tody, apparently as a convict, because he has beaten his mother. 23 A curse spoken against the parents was considered a grave offence,2~ equally punishable by death in Israel. 25 Filial respect has also economic implications. The elderly, unable to provide for themselves, must be able to count on the support of their children. Babylonian records of adoption usually stipulate that the beneficiary must unceasingly "revere and honour" (paUihu and kubbutu) the adoptive parents. This is not a demand for a sentImental attachment to alleviate the loneliness of the aged, but ~n obligation for the adoptee to provide his newly acquired parents with clothes, food and drink. 26 The biblical kabbed, "honour", includes this practical care, which is also attested to in the New Testament. 27 Children were an economic asset, especially to the poor and the elderly; the childless were well advised to adopt a son or a girl. Among the duties of a son is also one, often mentioned, that may raise a smile for its picturesque aspects. The Ugaritic king Danel desires a son, among other things, to "hold his hand when he is drunk, lift him when he is sated with wine. ,,28 One is reminded of the story of Noah and his three sons, and of Jerusalem, drunken with the wrath of the LORD, who has none to take her by the hand among all the sons she has brouwht up.29 This topos is equally alluded to in Egyptian wisdom texts. 3 After their death father and mother must be honoured by a decent burial, such as Tobias gave his father. 31 In addition to this, Mesopotamian morals stipulated the faithful performance of offerings for the deceased, so that their ghosts might be at peace. 32 Traces of similar practices, also attested to in Egypt and Ugarit,33 can be found in the Old Testament, where they are fiercely condemned as pagan customs. 34 The counterpart of filial care is parental love. Usually, however, this is not prescribed but considered a spontaneous affection. Thus, when Akkadian "prophecies" want to convey the grimness of an impending famine, they say that "people will sell their children ... mother wi 11 bar the door to daughter. 113 5 In the same vein the Epie of Erra depicts how during a devastation "the son will not concern

The interdiction of homicide is indicative of the value attributed to the life of the individual; it implies care for the other members one's society. The protection of those exposed to life-diminishing clrcumstances, such as the widow, the orphan and the resident stranger, can - perhaps a little arbitrarily - be linked to this commandment. In order to enhance the idea of the inviolability of human~ife, Israelites as well as Mesopotamians had recourse to notions of purity and pollution. These concepts were focused on the blood, the seat,o,f ,the soul according to Leviticus 17. Thence proceeded the prohlbltlon to consume blood and the need for purification when blood has been shed in a city's neighbourhood. 48 Also in Mesopotamia a,murderer is ,"polluted with blood"; even the royal throne, once the klng has commltted bloodshed, is blemished according to an Old As, 49, ' syrlan letter. A behavloural omen suggests that the conception of the blood coming back "upon the head" of the killer was not unfamiliar to ~he B~bylonian~, since it declares that the person who k:ep~ tur~lng Ins head lS polluted with blood. 50 Even justified Inlllng, ln warfare for instance made the lethal instruments and tl~eir manipulator~ impure. The ;ecurrent topos of the triumphant klng who washes hlS weapons in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea

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4.

"Thou Shalt Not Kill ... "

0:

I

after a victorious campaign, attested to in Mesopotamia's literary tradition from the second half of the third millennium onward, can . 51 therefore be regarded as a reference to a rl. te 0 f purl. f'lcat lon. The gods themselves had to bathe after they had slaughtered one of their fellows. 52 The capital punishment prescribed by the laws in case of homicide was not sufficient to take the sin away. Killing was not considered a jrivate offence but a public crime, a sin which demanded expiation. 5 This could best be done by the payment of blood money. 54 In view of all this one is not surprised to hear that hands which shed innocent blood are an abomination to the LORD. 55 The Annals of Assurbanipal call bloodshed an abomination (asakku) too , 56 and Surpu lists it 57 among the offences that bring the divine curse upon the perpetrator. The care for the weak and the powerless, paradigmatically the widow and the orphan, formed an essential part of the royal ideology of the ancient Near East. 58 Also individual ethics stressed the importance of charity, in Israel demanded on the grounds that God is the Creator of every individual. 59 An Old Babylonian composition enJOlns a divinely punished sufferer to "rub the shrivelled with oint. . k to t h e t_lrsty. h' ,,60 ment, glve to eat to the hungry, water to d rln Among the s ins he poss ib ly commi t ted, the suf ferer of Surpu confesses that he oppressed the weak woman,61 that he did not free a captive, nor release a man in bonds, nor show a prisoner the light, nor clothe the naked young man. 62 The personal god of a man is displeased when his protege says "how happy" to a person in need, without helping him. 63 The feeble must be honoured and the downtrodden given food to eat and beer to drink. 64 Similar appeals are found in the Old Testament legal, prophetic and wisdom texts. 65 The position of the stranger is less easy to assess. The Deuteronomic defence of the "sojourner who is within your gates", echoed in various parts of the Old Testament, applies to the resident stranger enjoying the hosfitality due to guests. 66 In spite of assertions to the contrary, 7 the notion of strangers as living under a sacred protection was not unknown to the Mesopotamian, witness the words ubiiru, "resident alien enjoying special protection", and kidinnu, a term with similar connotations. In the course of time~ though, the element of foreignness has vanished from these terms. 6 Interestingly enough, both in Israel and Mesopotamia, the privileged position of the sojourner has been applied secondarily to define the relationship of the individual with his god. 69 The particular attention paid to the status of the foreign immigrant in Israel has been influenced by their own national history.7o Yet although this historical motive could not be invoked in Mesopotamia, the attitude of Sumerians and Babylonians towards the passing stranger or the settled immigrant seems to have been similar to the one taken by the Israelites. A fundamentally different line of conduct was followed in connection with foreigners who menaced the socio-religious cohesion of the society, both in Israel and in Mesopotamia. 71

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5.

"Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery

"

Respect for the bonds of marriage was considered essential to maintain the cohesion of the community. Levity in this domain indicated the beginning of the dissolution of all other relations based on reciprocal trust and faithfulness. The apocalyptic visions of the Akkadian "prophecies" depict the future, when "all the land will fall into anarchy", as follows: "husband will abandon wife and wife will leave husband.,,72 In a similar context it is said that "[colleague] will put colleague to the sword, friend will murder friend."73 The maintaining of the marriage ethos, then, also stands for trustworthiness in analogous relations. For that reason I shall discuss the ethos of friendship at the end of the present section. Adultery was viewed both as a pr~perty offence and as an infringement on a taboo. In both civilizations under consideration the wife was to belong to one man, who had the exclusive right for intercourse with her once she was legally his. Between betrothal and marriage (the so-called "inchoate marriage") the woman was expected to live in chastity; 74 since she was usually betrothed while still an adolescent, the bride normally entered the marriage a virgin, though the texts emphasize her physical integrity mainly as proof of her loyalty.75 Akkadian wisdom texts and confession catalogues tend to picture adultery as a breach of the good faith reigning among 76 men. If the legal texts are concerned to safeguard the virtue of the wife, hinting at a sentence to death or lifelong enslavement in case of marital infidelity~ it is essentially to prevent dishonour from befalling the husband. 7 The Mesopotamians seem to have been particularly alive to the social disgrace of a sexual scandal. A Middle Babylonian letter furnishes a lively account of the efforts to hush it up of a family in whose midst it had occurred. 78 Biblical proverbs display a similar concern for the social consequences of adultery when they warn the reader against libertinism. Also the male fornicator exposes himself to future harm and shame; 79 Babylonian behavioural omens follow a comparable approach when they stress the detrimental effects of illicit intercourse. 8o Sexual promiscuity and adultery were also held a desecration, a taboo violation bringing defilement. The man who deflowers a girl "in de street" (E.SIR.RA) is thereby rendered impure, according to the Sumerian Family Laws. 8 : In the Sumerian Myth of Enlil and NinUl the former is considered U. ZUG , "sexually tabooed", af ter his rape on Ninlil, and therefore expe~led from the council of the gods in Ki -ur. 82 H. I3ehrends supposes tha t the god viola ted the taboo of hav~ng intercourse with a woman who is still TUR, "young", Le., nublle but not yet married. 8 3 This theme is echoed in the Akkadian Myth of Nergal and Ereskigal, which evokes the pass iona te bu t i 1licit love-making of Nergal (Erra) with the queen of the underworld. The latter bathes after the carnal pleasures,81t but remains impure all the same, presumably because the affair was extramarital. 8 5 A case of adultery is mentioned in the Myth of the Guilty Slave Girl, known to us in a bilingual version. The goddess Inanna accuses the gi rl Amanamtagga, "The-gui 1 ty-one" , of having learned coi tus and 17

kissing from Dumuzi, her husband; the act iS,referred to as an ikki~u (EM.GIG), a "taboo".Hb The Old Testament attl.tude towards sexual hcence, particularly so in sections, reflecting the ~pirit of ~he priestly schools, is also largely dOml.na~d by the notl.ons of purl.ty and defilement taboo and abomination,87 'l' In the Me~opotamian texts, alongsi e the offical view advanced in prayers, myths and counsels, one can also detect quite a different current. It comes to the surface in some sexual omens which seem to idealize the he-man, characterized by his self-possession and successful love affairs. 88 Such discrepancies between public morality and private popular convictions are too familiar a phenomenon to require comment. Next to marital love as a force of social cohesion comes friendship; the Mesopotamian texts regularly touch upo~ thi~ subject: The ancients expected a friend to share his food wl.th hl.s companl.ons; , , , 8 9 "F' the solitary consumer was regarded wl.th SUspl.cl.on. rl.en d s h'l.p " (NAM.KU.LI, Akk. ibrUtu) should manifest itself in siding with one's comrade in a case of litigation. 9o To deceive the good faith of a friend by embezzling his goods or taking advantage of_the easy access to his house is a grave sin, according to the Surpu confession. 91 A trustworthy friend must know how to keep a secret, otherwise he becomes a "venom".92 The Israelite wisdom literature puts a similar insistence on the demand for mutual 10yalty.93 It was the bitter experience of many a sufferer in both civilizations to see his allies change into enemies at the time of his misfortune, a contemetible behaviour, denounced as an infringement of the ethical code. 9 The one who stirs up trouble between two friends must count on the wrath of the gods. 9s It is a general rule that one should not disperse a tightly united group.96 The wicked man who "sows discord" between brothers is repulsive to the LORD, according to an Israelite proverb. 97

he found ... like one who took the hallowed name of his personal god in vain,,,102 The reference is apparently to a false oath denying the finding of property lost b someone else, a practice also attested to in the Old Testament. l 3 It is linked with the kindred offence that consists in the illegal appropriation of goods or cattle entrusted to one's care. l04 A more subtle way to increase one's profits at the expense of other members of the society was the use of an untrue balance and false weights. Judging from the repeated insistence on a full weight and a just measure, such malpractice was not uncommon, either in Mesopotamia or in Israel. lOS Another persistent evil was the changing of the boundaries of a neighboured field to enlarge one's own domain. lo6 A court appeal was not always successful in such cases. Of more weight were the religious ceremonies at the moment of the demarcation of the terrain, during which the gods were made the witnesses of the rightful borderlines. Another economic sin that can be mentioned in this context is usury.l07

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7.

"Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness Against Thy. Neighbour

"

Despite the elaborate judicial system of Mesopotamia the defence of private property was not only a concern of the lawgivers, who tackled the questions of punitive measures and liability, but also of the gods. The thief may escape human justice, but the gods will curse him. 100 In Israel, too, extortion and robbery fell within the realm of divine jurisdiction. lOl Besides outright theft there were other ways of making surreptitious profits. In a Babylonian penitential prayer the sufferer complains that he is treated "like one who ate to himself the food he found, ... who drank to himself the water

The prohibition of a false witness applies first of all to the testimony rendered before a court. Love of the truth and respect for the reputation of one's fellow-men, the two pillars on which the command rests, form also the basis for the rejection of slander, witchcraft and empty promises. Together these form the "sins of the tongue", the various aspects of which shall be dealt with in this section. The reliability of the witness and the validity of an accusation were essential to reach an equitable verdict. Mesopotamian law codes pay much attention to these questions, encouraging eventual witnesses to testify by promising a reward if their allegations prove . . h e d • 108 correc t, whl.le unfounded denouncements are severe I y punl.s Merely legal measures could not ensure the prevalence of the truth; her highest guardians, the gods, were called upon to make her triumph. They aimed their curse at the witness who caused dishonest things to be spoken and made the judges pronounce an incorrect judgment. l09 SamaS (Sumerian Utu), the patron deity of justice, was believed to watch over its administration. According to a Sumerian proverb, "the one who attacks a just verdict, the one who loves an unjust verdict" was an abomination to Utu. 110 Biblical proverbs also dwell on the theme of the false and the reliable witness, calling the former an abomination to the LORD lll and the latter a redeemer of lives. 112 The pleas of the psalmists to make the deceitful plaintiffs meet their reward also de~end on the conviction that a liar in court is a sinner before God. ll Insinuations did not have to be brought before the judges to do their poisonous work. In the guise of slander and gossip their venom could be as harmful and effective, while the legal possibilities to disprove their allegations and sue their disseminators were few. The indignation at negative information circulated on one's own account, resulting in a "stinking" reputation for the victim, is vividly

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The nucleus of the family shared in the divine protection. The outsider who brings separation (pal'Czsu) between a father and his son, a mother and her daughter, the daugther-in-law (kalZatu) and her mother-in-law or between two brothers, is guil ty before the gods. 98 Also the larger communities, the city and the country, must be held in esteem. The Surpu catalogue lists "eating the taboo" of one's city, betraying the secret of one's city and giving one's city a bad name as sins requiring expiation. 99 6.

"Thou Shalt Not Steal

"

•

described in many letters and mentioned in various judicial records. ln Slander, the "pointing" of an accusing "finger" at a companion when his back is turned, saying unseemly and improper things on his account, are themes that frequently occur in Mesopotamian confessions and sapiential admonitions. lIS The biblical psalms abound in complaints about the wicked who contaminate the private sphere of the righteous with suspicions. 116 Just as do the Mesopotamian texts,117 the Proverbs inveigh against careless talk and extol the ~arded lips.118 The SUT'pU catalogue of sins mentions witchcraft in connection with the sins of the tongue. 119 To the Mesopotamian there was indeed an affinity between sorcery and slander. The former was understood as the utterance of false accusations, not before men but before the godS. 120 Presumably the gods act on these rumours, supposing them to be true and consequently afflicting the bewitched with their anger. This conceptual framework of sorcery can be linked with the possibility for the oppressed, also attested to in the Old Testament, of cursing their oppressors. 121 However, whereas the maltreated remain within the proper bounds, the sorcerers abuse the possibility of divine appeal by making ill-founded accusations. In Mesopotamia such black magic enjoyed great popularity,122 in spite of the ban the gods had placed on it. Although the Old Tes tament only contains sparse indications of similar magical practices, the interpretation of witchcraft here forwarded suggests a parallel amply attested to. It is found in the insidious intimations of the enemies of the sufferer, by which they insinuate that he is abandoned by God because of his impiety.123 Besides these specific instances, the reliability of the spoken word was a general concern to Mesopotamians and Israelites. The sin of hypocrisy, i. e., sayin one thing and thinking another, rouses the wrath of the gods. l " Assurbanipal paints with disgust the wicked conduct of Sama~~umukin who "outwardly, with his lifs ~ spoke friendly words, but inwardly in his heart, planned murder." 2 Similar emotional accents can be heard in the laments of the Old Testament psalmists when they denounce the wirked ways of their would-be friends. 126 Lies and falsehood are abhorred by the LORD and are in conflict with the ethos of the righteous 127 j the Mesopotamian pantheon does not hold innocent the man who says "no" for "yes" or "yes" for "no" I "there is not" when there is or "there is" when there is not. 126 The retracted promise met with a strong disapproval by the gods, particularly on Marduk's behalf.129 "If you have promised, give ... " was a current counsel, the spirit of which is also reflected in ' 130 A Slml "I " pIctured In , penl't en t'la 1 con f eSSlons, ar' d 1 eal IS the Psalms, which praise the man who, having sworn to his own disadvantage, does not break his voW. 131

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8,

The Ethics of Judge and King

So far our attention has been directed at the common individual morals, The general ethics, however, are elaborated into various professional codes of honour, watched over by the patron deities of the respective offices, Such rules are often lost into oblivion, their acceptance having been based on a tacit understanding among colleagues. In several instances, though, their importance for the general interest was such that they have been laid down in writing. The cases of the judge and the king are the most obvious examples , ' upon whIch 1 shall now briefly comment. The concern for an impartial verdict frequently took the form of a warning against the acceptance of bribes. A present given to the judge was not thought reprehensible in itself, since it could serve as an indemnif ication of his services. 132 There was bu t a narrow borderline between this accepted practice and abuse of it, however, and Babylonian wisdom as well as Israelite legal and prophetic texts insist on the decided refusal by the judge of disproportionate gl'f ts. 133 He must be a hel~er to the powerless and not a henchman E,or the men of substance. 1 " If he persisted in wicked behaviour Samas would "show him the prison".13S Much the same could be said about the king, who should also side with the poor and the helpless. In Mesopotamia the tone for the ideals of the kingship was set by the social reforms of Urukagina (Uruinimgina).136 Throughout the subsequent centuries his successors cherished a traditional image of themselves as servants of the gods, defenders of the weak and punishers of crime. 137 The implicit critical tone of the Fiir'stenspiegel and related texts, which outline a royal conduct in the form of omens, shows that reality did not always correspond to this flattering picture. 138 The texts are part~cularl~ apprehensive of the danger that the crown bearer might enrlchen hImself at the expense of the citizens. 139 A similar fear is voiced in Deuteronomy 17,14-20, an example of an Israelite charter of the royal office. At the installation of the king his rights and duties were written down in a book laid up before the LORD. 1"0 The latter was to witness any infringement of these rules and to judge accordingly, in a way comparable to the function assigned to the Assyrian and Babylonian national gods. While the juridical ethos consists in a consequent application of a specific aspect of the ethical code, the royal ideology demands perfection in the entire scope of moral demands'LIn a sense the king has to be the exemplary citizen. 1" 1-;{; ---

9. Etiquette The survey of the social ethos of the two civilizations can now be closed with a few considerations concerning their respective etiquette. The "small ethics" do also establish rules of conduct but on a level different from that of the moral code. Their concern is not the choice between right and wrong but between proper and improper, seemly and unseemly, fitting and unfitting. The very word "etiquette"

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indicates affinity with ethics. When one sets out to define the nature of this relation, however, one discovers it to be arbitrary and not strictly logical. Etiquette introduces the concept of the agreeable instead of righteousness as a norm of behaviour. Since th~re is no arguing about taste it is in this realm that cultures, wh1ch otherwise share a set of common ideals, might take on distinctive features. The demand to comply with the reigning etiquette can be ethically founded when it is interpreted as the realization of the love of one's fellow creatures. Disrespect for the accepted manners can be considered an offence. Nevertheless, the forms of stylization and decoration, the ways to add refinement to social intercourse, are dictated by a self-willed genius proper to each individual culture or sub-culture. For the purpose of this study it is of little use to list extensively all the aspects of urbanity. The Akkadian behavioural omens and the wisdom texts of both civilizations under investigation present us with the portrait of the ideal citizen, characterized by self-restraint, level-headedness and temperance. The values are es. . 1 .. 2 va lu1ng ' sentially those of the b ourgeo~s~e, se If -composure a b ove everything else. 1.. 3 Irascibility and hot-headedness are fundami~~ tally wrong , 1. .... J'ust as are careless talk and improper speech. . 1 .. 6 Favours rece1ved must be returned, at least by grat1tude. These are just a few among the stock of accepted principles, once again strikingly similar for both cultures. Information about the specifically ceremonial side of the etiquette is less easy to obtain. We can get some idea of the spe~ch conventions by their echo in the epistolary texts, but many st1ll elude us. 1.. 7 Most of the practical customs have fallen into oblivion. We know that it was a traditional rule in the Near East that each meal be preceded by washing hands,l"8 and food be eaten only with the right hand. 1.. 9 Ablutions were also customary in connection with the physical act of 10ve. 150 In these instances, though, religious considerations played an important role, even if routine had given a more secular character to the relevant actions. Another category of precepts can only hesitantly be classified as etiquette. If I do so, it is because the rules in question appeal to a pre-rational sense of what is fitting. My hesitation stems from the fact that deviations from these customs were felt by the Mesopotamians as religious provocations, punishable by a curse. This can be inferred from the Surpu series, which lists a number of mamitus released by various actions. E. Reiner inclined to understand these .act10ns . . th ,,1 51 H Iana t '10n acas " symbo 1 1C accompany1ng an oa. er exp counts for most of the cases ~ but one fails to see what "urinating or vomiting into the canal,,15 has to do with the taking of an oath. The condemnation of such acts was shared by other peoples of the ancient world, and was not contingent on concomitant circumstances. Thus the Laws of Manu (c. 3rd cent. A.D.) prohibit the throwing of urine or faeces into the river;153 Herodotus reports that the Persians will not urinate or spit into a river l5 " and also Hesiod cautions against urinating in rivers. 155 It is natural to suppose that at least part of the mamitus listed in Surpu refer to behavioural taboos, similar in nature to the ones mentioned in the penul-

timate section of Hesiod' s Works and Days for instance. 156 Not "to sit on a seat facing the sun" might be another specimen of such Mesopotamian rules of decency.157 Observance of etiquette becomes imperative when dealing with superiors, in particular the king, for "a king's wrath is like the growling of a lion, but his favour is like dawn upon the grass.,,158 Thus it is not surprising that biblical proverbs bring up the subject of table manners at the royal court. 159 Ecclesiastes advises his readers not to hasten to leave the ruler's presence. 160 The importance of court ceremonial is amply attested in Mesopotamian texts and representations, which give us glimpses of the conventionalities of speech and gesture. 161 The total stock of titles and symbols, rites and concomitant conventions is sometimes designated as Hofstil, although that term is particularly applied to the literary style adopted by courtiers. 162 Besides the general demands of courtesy there were the ruler's particular whims and idiosyncrasies to be reckoned with. The concrete contours of all these civilities are of little concern to us. Essential is the existence of this social configuration with its specific laws. It foreshadows, as it were, the contact with the gods and its corresponding ceremonial. 10. Rules of Religious Behaviour Modelled on Social Principles

When we move from the realm of social ethics to the religious code of conduct we may have a feeling of entering a different world. While in the former field most precepts do not run counter to our sense of logic, the latter domain seems regulated by laws of a different order. The ancients have left us testimonies suggesting a somewhat irritated awe in face of the transcendency which comes close to our sense of inadequacy when speaking of the supernatural. 163 One would be wrong, however, to suppose that the dichotomy between the material and the spiritual world was as natural to them as it seems to us. Occasional doubts could not rob them of the conviction that the gods dwelled in the same universe as they did and ~I were to a large ext~t subject to the same forces and moved by the ~ same reasonings.16"~ Our uneasiness stems partly from the opposition of the reality as directly perceived by the senses and a spiritual reality only reached by faith or by some form of mystical experience. This was not how the Mesopotamians conceived of their gods. To them they were the personifications of various as~ects of nature and culture, very much present in daily experience. 65 The fire-god addressed in a prayer was burning before the eyes of the worshipper, the grain166 More practically, ~1.1 goddess Nisaba could be touched with the hands. '1'l the visibility of the religion was guaranteed by the many temples and the numerous shrines. Piety and godliness could take on a very material appearance in "the care and feeding of the gods,,167 who were embodied in the divine images. 168 Also in Israel, though several texts insist on the symbolic or non-magical character of this,169 the LORD had his abode in the temple just as the king reigned in his palace. Sometimes this parallel is consciously ex-

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as by Malachi who compared the sacrifices for God with the J\fresents given to the governor. 170 The attitude to be adopted towards the gods was not at odds with the lines of conduct to be followed in human intercourse. The same principles that govern social ethics can be observed in religious • morals. the king has his courtiers and is honoured by the presents and petitions of his subjects; a god has his priests and is worshipped by the sacrifices and the prayers of his devotees. Just as , the human ruler could have his particular likes and dislikes, a god could delight in certain things and hold others in abhorrence. In brief, though the divine nature is essentially impenetrable to human understanding, it is not without analogy to secular relations. 171 The religious advice given by the Akkadian wisdom texts and the sins confessed in the private penitential prayers cluster around the duties towards the personal gods, considered the divine parents of the individual. 172 They are to be honoured, materially by sacrifices and verbally by prayers. "Let your free-will offering to the god who created you be regular", urges a wisdom text. 173 Reverence for the god is rewarded, since sacrifices procure a long life and prayer will undo the harmful consequences of sins. 17ij Omens promise good ~~I fortune and a happy life to the one who regularly visits the shrine ~.. of the god to worship him with prayer. 175 That is why the sufferer of the theodicy is appalled at his adversity, since he has never neglected the homage of his gods. 176 Also the gods of the community are supposed to gratify their suppliants with favour. If someone is constantly in prayer to his city god, good will be said of him by the people, a behavioural omen affirms encouragingly.177 The tribute paid to the gods is not restricted to the private sphere of the individual. Their human servants are expected to extol their virtues publicly, proclaiming the greatness of their gods and exhorting their fellow-men to join in their worship.178 Comparable teachings are found in the Old Testament. The passion for the honour of God pervades the psalter and is revealed in promises of praise and exhortations to offer "righteous sacrifices" .179 A particular accent is given to the "fear of the LORD" through the insistence on authenticity and uprightness. The prayer must be "pure,,180 and not be spoken by "lips of deceit" .18 f A wicked life turns a sacrifice into an abomination,182 whereas a "crushed spirit" is an appropriate tribute to GOd. 183 Although the Akkadian texts do sometimes speak about the importance of humility as a prerequisite of acceptable homage,18" a more crudely "materialist" spirit overshadows their recommendations of worship. Concerning the rewards of a loyal cult, though, the Israelite proverbs converge with the Mesopotamian sayings: well stocked barns and vats bursting with wine will be the reward of he who honours the LORD wi th his riches. 105 Disrespect of the gods could be signified by the light-hearted use ~~ of their name. The frivolous swearing of an oath or the blasphemous use of the god's name were equally considered "sins of the tongue.,,106 Both are mentioned by the Akkadian texts and the Bible. The importance of the oath in the ancient Near East can hardly be exaggerated. Since we shall return to the subject in the following chapter, it suffices for the present that we recall its function in conferring

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firmness and reliability on human statements. Perjury and insincere oaths would corrupt the entire social system and were severely punished by the gods. Hosea censures severely those who utter mere words and make covenants wi th "vain oaths", an expression echoing the command not "to lift the name of the LORD in vain.,,107 The standard equivalent expression in Akkadian, "to swear frivolously an oath by one's god", occurs in many confessions, 10 0 and is also used in connection with a broken covenant. 109 In keeping with the insistence on the irrevocability of the oath, sapiential admonitions advise caution in religious matters. 190 Blasphemy and the utterance of sacrilegious words go so evidently against the desires of the gods that warnings are almost superfluous. 191 Diagnostic texts mentio~ the cursing of the gods, either as a symptom of a patient's malady or as the sin responsible for his illness. 192 In Israel blasphemy of God's name was punishable by stoning. 193 Another aspect of the honour due to the gods was the observance of their consecrated days and festivals. Esarhaddon boasts of his punctual performance of the deities' celebrations 19 " and the righteous sufferer of the Ludlul poem protests that the day dedicated to the worship and procession was a joy to his heart. 195 In Israel the scrupulous observance of the sabbath became the hallmark of religious fervour, especially after the exile. 1Y6 It was the attitude of the kings towards the feasts prescribed by the priestly calendar such as the passover, which determined to a large extent their evalu~ ation by the chroniclers. 197 In that respect the historical books offer an analogy with the Babylonian chronicles, which display a compara~le concern for the regular performance of the religious cere,?onles. Thus the Nabonidus Chronicle emphatically reports the persistent neglect of the absent king for the Akitu festival' similar references are found in other texts. 190 ' The topic of what the Greeks termed hierosylia, the theft of m~ney o~ valuable o~jects belonging to a god, is recurrently mentlOn 7d in Mesopotamian and Israelite texts, a fact suggesting the gravity and perhaps the frequency of the crime. Different types of the offence can be distinguished. In its simplest form it concerned the riches displayed or stored in the temple. "I cast longing eyes on your abundant property, I coveted your precious silver" confesses a Ba~ylonian penitential prayer. 19g An Old Babylonia~ liver ~men a~odoslS says that the king has brought the temple treasures into hIS palace, but that "they will come to light".2bO Esarhaddon accuses the citizens of Babylon of irreverently seizing the valuables of the Esagila, the temple of Marduk, to buy the help of the 201 Elamites. The biblical records have preserved the memory of king Asa, who took all the silver and gold that was left in the treasure of the temple of the LORD and sent them to Benhadad to persuade the latter to come to his rescue. 202 Hanani the seer criticizes this . f ' I ure. 203 Both the Codex Hammurapi and 'al Poli cy an d announces itS the Middle Assyrian laws deal with this particular wform of robbery,20" which is also discussed in Leviticus. 205 Huinan greed did not halt at. inanimate objects. A Babylonian literary prayer says that the penitent had sexual intercourse with the priestess of his d 206 Tle I go. temple personnel were part of the god's movable property, 25

207 the seizure of which did sometimes occur. A variant sin is the withholding of offerings promised or due to the god. Malachi announces to his listeners that they are cursed with a curse, because they robbed God in their tithes and offerings. 2oe The Mesopotamian gods reacted in a similar fashion to the one who saved something for them, but then ate it himself. 209 It could happen that somebody pledged money or goods to the deit~, but 21 afterwards regretted his words and kept his gift to himself. Such lightly regarded vows are strongly disapproved of by Mesopotamian and Israelite texts which underline the fatal consequences of the breach of ptomise. 2f1 Some texts indicate that the gods are robbed in effect when the visit to their shrine for a ritual complaint is . . ' 212 I n th'lS renot accompanled by the presentatlon 0 f an 0 f f erlng. spect the Mesopotamian deities are not different from the LORD! before the face of whom one was not to appear "empty-handed". 21 Although the eating of food consecrated to the deity could be accidental, it was nonetheless a grave offence, to be confessed and expiated. 21 1! Apart from offerings many other things were regarded as divine property. The violation of the taboo by which these objects had been reserved for the god was particularly serious. In Greece the death penalt~ was prescribed for the theft of anything consecrated to a deity. 15 The Mesopotamian referred to these untouchable objects as asakku. 216 Anyone who appropriated or consumed such an object was 217 considered guilty of sacrilege and did no longer deserve to live. Although the death penalty could occasionally be converted into a fine, the evidence suggests that originally the violator was burnt to death. 21e The Old Testament equivalent of the asakku is the 1er~m, the violation of which was punished by death by fire and stoning in the case of Achan. 219 Leviticus ordains that things devoted to the LORD bl a 1er~m are "most holy" and can in no way be reappropriated. 2 0 Contrary to the Hebrew term the Akkadian asakku has been used secondarily to denote a forbidden action, especially in the formula asakka akiilu, "to eat the asakku", that is, to commit a heavy sin. 221 According to Mesopotamian conceptions various gods of the pantheon could be offended by a human action that contradicted their special desires. Thus it is said of a suppliant in a penitential prayer to Gula, the protective lady of the dogs,222 that he maltreated her favourite animals. [He did] what is not [pleasing] to Gu1a and pretended not to notice. He saw a wounded dog and pretended [not to notice]. He saw [a •.• dog] and pretended not to notice. Dogs were figh[ting, crying and] wailing; He saw it but pretended not to notice. He [saw a dead dog] but did not bury (it) ••• 223

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Incidentally the hemerologies contain similarly motivated interdictions, such as the prohibition to catch fish, fowl or wild beasts on the 18th of Nisannu, an action condemned as an abomination of the god Sumuqan. 221i 11. Pure and Impure: The Vocabulary of Religious Etiquette Within the totality of rules and regulations defining the way in which man may live before his gods, there is a large area of demands which to the modern mind bear the stamp of the irrational. Often this domain is separated from the other precepts and characterized as the ritual or cultic law. A clear-cut distinction, however, is not satisfactory. Mesopotamian confessions and Israelite protestations of innocence or prescriptions for holiness mention the two types of obligation side by side. 225 They were apparently felt to belong together. Might not the distinction between ethics and etiquette be more appropriate here? It has been argued that etiquette introduces the notion of pleasure as a norm of behaviour. Now when the pleasure of the gods is at stake it can be easily seen why the religious etiquette received a central place in the speculations of the ancients. To them there was no higher standard than the pleasure of the gods, since also the moral precepts were ultimately validated by the same notion. Also the term "etiquette" by no means implies that the rules it covers were considered less important, or valued only because they added a finishing touch. On the contrary, both infringements of the moral code and offences against the etiquette aroused the strong disapproval of the gods. In religionibus, then, ethics and etiquette converge, notwithstanding the fact that the two realms may be differently perceived by man, because some of the divine desires are echoed by his sense of justice, while others can only be respected out of consideration for the personal likes and dislikes of the gods. In the "arbitrary" rules of religious etiquette the notion of purity and the related concept of holiness form a central part. These notions do not furnish an independent standard but represent values, the precise content of which is determined by their referential frame. The gods are pure and holy and man's purity and holiness depends on the degree of conformity with their standards. What is acceptable in social intercourse may be unacceptable in the presence of the gods, just as one is permitted manners at home which could not be displayed at court. The content of the term "purity" is admittedly vague, probably because of i.ts many connotations. A survey of the main nuances attached to the opposition pure/impure may help us to get an impression of the richness of the underlying conception. The relevant Akkadian terminology comprises the qualifications ellu, ebbu, namru and zaku, together with their related verbs. Ellu basically denotes cleanliness and only secondarily holiness. 226 This cleanliness is conceived, not only negatively as the absence of dirt, but also positively as brilliance and luminosity. Like ebbu, ellu is often used as a qualification of glittering precious stones, like lapis 27

lazuli. 22 7 It never refers to physical cleanliness,228 while ebbu can only have the secular meaning "clean" in connection with clothes. 229 Namru and zaku share the connotation of radiance, as is apparent from a quotation in a Neo-Assyrian letter where they are contrasted with eau, "gloomy, dull", and dalhu, "blurred, muddy".230 The concept of luminosity is associat~d in the ancient Near East with jor strength and vigour. 231 Oil is· called the "mullilu of the gods",2 1 not because it purified their images, but because it gave them the glow of vitality and created a divine radiance and luminosity. 2 33 The sufferer of the Babylonian Theodiey has made his "beaming face very gloomy", 2 3 4 whereas the gods are often said to have a radiant (namru) appearance,235 a sign of their vitality and their cheerful mood. In a secular context namru may even stand for "healthy", usually said of slaves. 236 The flexibility of the "purity" terminology has made it apt for the extended use in a legal context. Suppliants may pray to the gods for purification, meaning the release from everything that hinders and obstructs a happy life. 237 The juridical implications of this cleanliness consist in a freedom from legal claims and obligations. Zaku and ebebu are the favourite roots in this connection,238 but also ullulu could be used as a teY'l'Tlinus teehnieus for the manumission of slaves. 239 Occasionally "purity" is used metaphorically to denote innocence, as in an Egalkura prayer;240 a resolved lawsuit could be called a "cleaned case".241 An examination of the Hebrew lexicon leads us to the root ~hr as the most likely counterpart to the Akkadian terminology. 24 The basic denotation of cleanness is present in the opposition between "dirty clothes" and "a clean (~ahor) turban" in Zechariah 3,5. When it is used as an adjective of gold the ideas of luminosity and unalloyedness come to the fore,243 while the noun tohar can refer to the brightness of a precious stone or of the heavens. 244 Psalm 51 exploits the purification terminology, including taher, to express the desire for pardon, but this secondary usage of the verb is uncommon and marks the originality of the prayer. 245 More so than the Akkadian terms, the root thr has been restricted to a religious usage. In the religious etiquette of the Old Testament the concept of holiness, denoted by the root qd~, is at least as important as the notion of purity. Unlike the various terms for purity it is always related to a divine referent and its meaning must be paraphrased, somewhat clumsily, as "participating in the divine energy", "in harmony with the nature of God". In many cases one is tempted to translate Akkadian words for "pure" by the English adjective "holy" and often that is indeed the correc t rendering. The Akkadian language does possess a rarely used verb qada~u, with the related adjectives qa~du and qudduBU, but compared with the Hebrew qd~ it remained marginal and is differently used. Although the gods are called qa~du, "holy",246 two or three times, the adjective ellu is much more frequently applied to them. 247 The principal connotation of qada~u is "purity", though in the restricted sense of ritual purity. In the intensive stem (11 or 11/2) it refers to the purification of objects or individuals prior to the performance of a religious ceremony like

taking an oath. 248 The evidence suggests that the most likely semantic equivalent to the Hebrew qda is the Akkadian ellu. A lexical survey of the various Akkadian and Hebrew terms for purity and holiness reveals a remarkable broad field of application Of the different shades of meaning the basically dual-aspected nature of the notions must be kept in mind. In religious use the negative component consists in the absence of all elements conflicting with the divine nature. The positive connotation of radiance, joy, vitality and vigour can be subsumed in the idea of communion with the transcendent energy. It is vacancy as well as fulfilment. Everything visited by the gods must meet the requirements of purity and holiness, if the contact with the divine is to be a blessing instead of a curse Since purity is of acute importance in the encounter with the gods, all those who participate in ceremonies of worship must live up to the requirements of the divine etiquette. Especially the temple personnel, steadily catering to the needs of the gods, had to be screened on criteria of purity and holiness. Apart from the requirements of godliness and devotion,249 the Mesopotamian and the biblical texts insist on the need for cultic officiants to be physically intact and undamaged, and free from profaning influences. The general conditions the occasional visitors of the shrine had to comply with are analogous, but in their case the requirements were pitched a little lower. In the discussion of the various aspects of propriety before the gods the special position of the cuI tic functionaries will be considered first and the more general commands subsequently. 12. Physical Integrity and Cleanliness

Physical integrity belongs to the structural perfection that should be de l'igueul' for the holders of a religious office. The ancient Mesopotamian custom, quite early abandoned, of priests performing the rituals naked, may have been inspired by a desire to display the wholeness of their bodies to the gods. 25o A Babylonian text, drawing the profile of the baru, the diviner, says that he must be "perfect as to his appearance and his limbs". 2 51 A person who is "crosseyed,,252 or who has "chipped teeth,,253 is not allowed to approach "the place of the (divine) judgment". Mention is also made of a "bruised finger" which disqualifies one as a diviner. 2 54 Persons suffering from an allegedly defiling disease, like the le~er (male sahal'~ubbe), are refused admittance to the sacral office. 55 Other categories of stigmatized candidates are the hisgalu and the SU nak{-~u, terms that still remain a riddle to philologists. 2 56 The pilpilanu, equally unfit as a baru, may be homosexual or transvestite, since the Sumerian PI.LI.PI.LI (or PI.IL.PI.LI) can be rendered by the Akkadian aSBinnu, "(male) cult prostitute", or pal'ru, "catamite".257 Yet one should not exclude a relatedness to the Sumerian PE.EL.LA, "dirty" (Akkadian lu'u), either. 258 Another text, dealing with the consecration of the ni~akku- or the pasisu-priest serving in Enlil's temple, tells us how the canV

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didate had to be inspected "from the edge of his head to the nose of his toes."259 Unfortunately the text is too fragmentary to make out all the physical defects that are mentioned. Possessing a face disfigured by mutilated eyes or irregular features, or being branded was enough to bar the way to priesthood. 260 In alle likelihood, similar standards will have been customary for cuI tic experts in other temples. In Israel no priest "who has a blemish" is allowed to approach God's presence. Lev. 21,16ff. mentions blindness, paralysis, a mutilated face, a limb too long, an injured hand or foot, a sight defect, a hunched back, an abnormally small physique, a skin disease and crushed testicles as possible obstacles. 261 Though the list is more extensive than the Mesopotamian prescriptions, the parallels are obvious. Perfection is also required from sacrificial animals, 26 2 which are to be tiimf:m, "blameless". 26 3 The only bodily handicaps that could keep the lay believer out of the temple were crushed testicles or a cut off member.26~ As well as through structural defects, physical "purity" could be lost through conjunc tural causes. Most prominently among these figure disease and sexual defilement. Interestingly enough, in both civilizations the cuI tic implications of illness are paradigmatically illustrated by what is traditionally translated as "leprosy".265 Al though the Hebrew ~iira' at and the Akkadian saharaubbu cover a broader array of symptoms than clinical leprosy, IVshall retain the term. 266 There is no convenient simple word in English that would be medically correct and "leprosy" has just the ominous overtones of the original terms. 267 Leprosy stigmatizes its victim as impure, rendering him unacceptable to the gods. In Israel the priest imposed a quarantine at the slightest suspicion of qiira'at. Once it was established as a definite diagnosis, the diseased was excommunicated and could only hope for a miraculous recovery. When such a thing did happen the healed leper had to undergo an elaborate purification ritual before he was re-admitted to the cultic community.268 The Mesopotamians entertained similar opinions about saharaubbu. I shall leave the bulk of the relevant texts to a later discussion and confine myself to the instances where leprosy is expressly dealt with as a defilement. A Babylonian commentary on the calender series Iqqur ipua contains the following explanation of the phrase "When he enters his house": "This (means that) he was covered with leprosy but has become clean (utabbib, DADAG) and enters his house (again) .,,269 A Neo-Babylonian inscription on a boundary stone 'contains an imprecation against a possible transgressor. "May Sin cover his entire body with incurable leprosy so that he not be clean (ai ibib) to the end of his days.,,27o In one ritual a leper figures as a scapegoat, carrying away the evils of another sufferer which are magically transferred to him. 271 Since he was irredeemably rejected by the gods his situation could hardly deteriorate. The reaons for the religious evaluation of this unpleasant skin condition will probably have to be sought in its conspicuousness and its persistence in spite of medical treatment. It was easily associ-

ated with the defiling power of death. The leper is "as one dead, of whom the flesh is half consumed when he comes out of his mother's womb.,,272 This instinctive emotional response of loathing and inordinate fear, shared by many other societies all over the world,273 is the soil in which the cultic rejection of the leper is rooted. One notices a second avenue of thought in the biblical writings, though. Leviticus 13,13 tells us that the "accomplished" leper whose skin had turned completely white was declared pure again. Although this may have been a merely theoretical possibility, it deserves to be noted since it shows that it is the intermediate state which is theologically despicable. The label "impure" is applied to that which cuts across and shatters the current classifications. This concern for clarity is displayed on a number of other occasions; Leviticus 19,19 prohibits the breeding of one kind of cattle with another, the sowing of one field with two kinds of seed and the wearing of a garment made of two kinds of stuff. 2 7~ We will discover a comparable desire for purity of kind and for neat classifications in Israel's dietary rules. 275 Such ideological considerations, however, appear historically subordinate to the primary reaction of spontaneous disgust, certainly in the case of leprosy. The second area of tension was human sexuality. Ambivalence characterizes the ancients' attitude in this domain: a joyful acceptance of the pleasures and benedictions of the coupling of man and woman was mixed with a strong apprehension. The fear of chaos was conjured away by a definition of the partners and their roles, while the mysterious sides of the recurrent events of sexual life were circumvented by measures ensuring the "purity" of the concerned and their surroundings. The loss of blood at the moment of birth renders the Israelite mother unclean for a period of one or two weeks, depending on the child's gender, after which she must remain separate for 33 OT 66 days during which the contact "with any hallowed thing" (bekol-qodea) is prohibited. 276 For similar reasons menstruation or a morbid discharge of blood entail a period of ritual impurity.277 The Mesopotamian model runs broadly parallel to the Old Testament data, though uncertainties of terminology and scarcity of information deny us the required precision. The woman in childbed, called the hariatu or the urrustu, the "soiled", was considered "impure", just as was the (m)uBukkatu, "woman under taboo".278 R. Labat supposed a thirty day period of impurity for the new mother, on the basis of a ritual instructing the ritual expert not to see her during that time. 279 MUBukkatu is a rather general term comprehending the woman in the period after she has given birth,28o the one who has not yet washed after sexual intercourse, and also the menstruating woman. Her uncleanliness was transmitted to the male passer-by who inadvertently touched her. 281 The Middle Assyrian Harem Decrees call her a "woman .•. who should not be approached" (sinniltu ... sa la qariibsani), and say that she must not enter into the presence of the king at the time of sacrifices. 282 A sumerian proverb hints at the taboo of bread-making - typically a woman's task - during periods of menstruation. 203 Men could also be affected with impurity through sexual defile-

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place. 30s The consecration of his Mesopotamian colleague serving at the Enlil temple at Nippur was equally marked by elaborate ceremonies in which he was washed and shaved. 306 Ritual instructions preceding incantations often make mention of similar actions to be performed by or on the cultic participants, besides the recurrent injunction to put on new clothes. Special occasions demanding the washing of hands were private prayer, sacrif ice and the meal. In the Dialogue of Pessimism the lord orders his servant to fetch him water for his hands, so that he can sacrifice to his god. 307 This religious practice has given rise to a proverb quoted in a letter report to the deity by King Esarhaddon: "like a fool ( ... ) you wash with water after your sacrifice, like a [ ... ] you put in a drain pipe after the rain.,,308 In the same way a prayer, even if it was not spoken during an offering ceremony, had to be pronounced by pure lips under the lifting of washed hands. "When he washes his hands and his mouth his god will hear his supplications," promises an omen entry.309 Conversely, the SUl'pU ritual lists praying with unwashed hands among the transgressions punishable by a curse. 310 Already an Old Babylonian letter informs the adressee that the sender prays for him "with [her] hands washed".311 This usage was extended to a ritual cleaning of the hands prior to the enjoyment of the daily bread, perhaps because each time a part was dedicated to the gods. When his lord proposes to wine and dine the laconic comment of the slave in the Dialo~ue of Pessimism is that "the washing of hands makes the day pass". 12 This practice is attested to for Israel in the New Testament and the Talmud, which calls it the neftlat jadajin. 313

ment, not only by contagion but also through an ejaculatio seminis or a morbid venereal discharge. 284 Until the ritual purity was recovered one could participate neither in cultic actions nor in battle. 28s An Old Assyrian law fragment seems to refer to male impurity when it decrees that, when musukku, one may not walk about h d'lng statlon. . 286 freely in "the house of the 1.= K.Ul'wn ", .1.e., tetra Rape, adultery and violation caused impurity and could entail (tem. . 297 yet t h ere lS . eVl. d ence th a t porary) expulslon from the communlty; also normal sexual intercourse brought about impurity and necessitated ritual ablutions. 288 This custom was widespread in the ancient . . .lS also atteste d to f or t h e H'lttltes , 289 an d preNear East, Slnce lt Islamic South-Arabia. 29o Thus when Herodotus attributes to the Arabs in general the custom he noticed in Babylonia, where after sexual intercourse the partners had to be purified by fumigations and bathings before they were allowed to touch any utensil, he is not far beside the mark. 291 A spontaneous ejaculatio seminis, called a "nocturnal accident" in the Bible,292 brought about impurity, but "if a man has dreamt that he had intercourse with a woman bud did not have an emission he is cultically clean, there is no wrong, he may go around (in the temple) but must not face the god", according to the omen series Summa alu. 293 Things became more serious when a man was suffering from constant ejaculations~ in which case the sufferer was impure and carried a weighty sin. 29 Secretions of the foreskin are defiling and one text even calls them an "abomination of all the gods to mankind".29s A remarkable feature in the complex of ritual impurity is the importance attached to the clothes. The "bandage of the woman in childbed", equated in a lexical text with "the bandage of the unc lean woman", 2 96 serves as a proverbial .symb.ol ~f iIEe.urity. 297 The Akkadian terms translate the Sumerian TUG.NIG.DARA.US.A, literally "blo0c!Y bandage". A related expression is ulapu lupputu, TUG.NiG. DARA. SU.LAL, the "soiled bandage".298 In the Book of Isaiah a prophet exploits this symbol when he likens Israel to an unclean woman whose "menstruation bandage" (beged 'idd1:m) stands for the lost righteousness of the people. 299 This is entirely in keeping with the prominent place of the washing of clothes in Israelite and Mesopotamian purification ceremonies, strikingly paralleled in pre-Islamic Arabic traditions. 30o In Israelite law the cleaning of clothes constituted a purificatory rite intended to dissolve the miasma rather than the material dirt affecting the clothes. 301 Akkadian texts contain the recurrent expression of "water of the large ocean where the unclean woman did not wash her hands (and) the woman under taboo did not wash her clothes .•. ,,302 The washing of clothes brings us to the requirement of physical cleanliness in general as a prerequisite of actions with a sacral character. Just as it is a mark of politeness to be washed, shaven and well-groomed when approaching the king, so it is an obligatory token of respect to be pure when appearing before the gods. Ritual specialists were the first to be affected by this obligation. According to the Old Testament the priest was submitted to s~ecial measures of purification, once at the threshold of his office 3 3 and afterwards each time he approached the altar 304 or entered the holy

A highly interesting but difficult aspect of the religious etiquette is that of the food prohibitions and the dietary rules. The stumbling block for our intelligence lies in the absence of all motivation for their observance, which makes them appear rather arbitrary. Before we set out to grope for a solution to their riddle we must take stock of their content. In Mesopotamia, dietary prohibitions occur most frequently in the hemerologies; they are concentrated on certain periods, especially the first three days of Nisannu, the first month of the year, and the first seven days of Tasl'itu, the seventh month of the year. 314 Other days marked by a food taboo are Ajjaru the 10th,31S Abu the 30th 316 and Al'ahsamna the 10th. 317 Bes ides the calendardictated food prohibitions certain animals and vegetables could be crossed out on the menu in connection with the performance of rituals. 318 Thus when the king participated in a namburbi ceremony, i.e., a ritual to counter some untoward omen, he was to abstain from fish, garlic and leek for three days.319 Under normal circumstances the food in question could apparently be enjoyed with impunity. Some dishes are frequently prohibited, others less so. Amon~ the former we find sUmu, "garlic",320 bisPu/kal'asu, "leek",3 1 suluppu, "dates" 322 nimu "fish" 323 ail' aahe "pork" 324 and sir alpi

32

33

13. Food Prohibitions and Dietary Rules

,

,

,

w

"

,

"beef". 32 5 In the second category fall onions, dormouse, cress, roasted meat, ~oat meat,_birds like the pigeon and. the rooster, and wheat bread. 32 On Tasritu the seventh the abst1nence had to be complete. 327 The concentration of these occasional food taboos on the beginning of the first and the seventh month of the year gives a clue as to their intention. Originally Tasrltu marked the beginning of the year, a position which was relegated to Nisannu in the course of time. Intensive religious ceremonies were celebrated to secure the favour of the gods for the coming period and the abstinence from certain dishes was supposedly prescribed in the interests of a worthy participation in these activities. This hypothetical explanation is corroborated by the food prohibitions connected with the "spontaneous" rituals to ward off an imminent danger. Behind the list of tabooed dishes, culminating in the prescription of a total fast, one may perceive an intention of mollifying the gods by a self-inflicted soberness. One can even push a little further. The gods, being imagined anthropomorphically, were held to be influenced by odour. Thus one could please the gods by burning fragrant materials as a "soothing odour", analogous to the incense burnt at a royal banquet which added to the pleasant mood of the invited. Caution not to offend the deity by foul breath could be a corollary to these customs. According to the Babylonian Talmud onions and garlic should not be eaten before noon (the fourth hour) because of their smell. 328 Since the tractace Kethuboth says that priests were disqualified to do service in the temple if they had an offensive breath,329 it is unlikely that those who served in the sanctuary were free to take these dishes. A religious concern for physical odour is also attested to for Arabia. In a Sabaean inscription of Marib two men confess to the sin of sitting in the temple while smelling of fetid plants and onions. 33o Also the Muslim who has eaten onions or garlic is not allowed to enter into the mosque. 331 In the light of these informations one understands why King Nabu-sum-iskun who made the temple personnel (the erib biti) eat leek, the "taboo of Ezida", was remembered as an impious ruler. 332 A combination of these data suggests that at least part of the Mesopotamian food prohibitions were rules of etiquette not to repulse the gods by foul breath. However, there is another line of thought which runs through the Mesopotamian dietary rules. Some animals are cultically unclean, not because of their effect on the human breath, but per se. The pig is . ' ' ".1mpure ,,333 the most consp1cuoUS case. One popu l ar say1ng ca 1 s1 1t and says that it is "not fit for the temple, devoid of sense ( ... ), an abomination to all the gods, an abhorrence [to the (personal) g]od and accursed by Samas."33~ That is why the consumption of pork in a dream is an untoward omen portending the wrath of the gods. 335 Other animals that were thus held in abomination are the dog and the iqqur ~urri, lit. "hole bird", possibly the partridge. 336 A.L. Oppenheim suggested the existence of a fish taboo on a popular, not a culti~, level. 337 These "unclean" animals were not under all circumstances prohibited as food. Although pigs provoked a general disgust,338 pork was 34

J'

·1

I

a dish commonly enjoyed. 339 The frequent mention of a fish trade in Neo-Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian texts indicates the important part it played in the diet.3~0 Such data suggest that the latent abhorrence of the animals in question came into prominence at cultically critical times; in practice purity and impurity remained contingent on the situation. The ambiguous feeling about these creatures, rooted as it is in a deeply engrained popular sentiment, cannot be explained by sophisticated reasonings. Finally, there may in some cases be a possibility of linking a food taboo with the physical effects of the dish in question. BAM 318, a text dealing with the recovery of purity, contains a small list of edibles, mostly plants, describing the consequences of their consumption. Garlic and onion are said to produce a headache, while leek will diminish the eyesight. 3~1 Since the text evaluates the plants according to their intrinsic properties,3~2 one could argue that the (occasional) taboos on leek, garlic and onions were at least partly inspired by considerations of health and hygiene. Yet these "empirical" speculations are nowhere near sufficient to account for the bulk of the dietary prescriptions. In a later stage the Israelite practices seem to have undergone the influence of the Babylonian hemerologies. The Talmud information that a small salted fish often kills its consumer on the 7th, the 17th, the 27th, and according to many people the 23th of the month has all the characteristics of the Mesopotamian calendar entries.3~~ The Old Testament itself, however, takes its own course. Tge relevant texts~ Leviticus 11 and Deuteronomy 14, are intended as compendia by means of which one could distinguish between pure and impure animals. The effort of classification is not just a mental exercise, but serves, among other things, the practical purpose of determining the edible and the inedible.3~~ Since Leviticus 11 gives more details than Deuteronomy 14, I shall base my investigation on the former, while referring to the latter when necessary.3~5

Literary criticism has shown that Leviticus 11 is not "aus einem Guss".346 Two parts can be roughly distinguished. The first (vv. 1-23. 4lf.) deals with the purity of animals presenting themselves as possible ingredients of the menu. The second (vv. 24-40) takes up the question of their purity in a tactual contact. In the first case the text speaks of the flesh (basar), in the second of the carcass (nebelah) of the animals. Where land animals are concerned, only cloven-footed ruminants may be eaten. 347 "The ox, the sheep, the goat, the hart, the gazelle. the roebuck, the wild goat, the ibex, the antelope, and the mountainsheep" belong to this category.348 The pig is explicitly called impure. Its flesh should not be eaten and its carcass should not be touched. 349 Other animals, like the horse, the dog and the donkey, are tacitly relegated to the same category. Touching the carcass of an animal that has died naturally renders one impure, whether its flesh is considered acceptable food or not. 350 This is because the blood is still in it, another instance of the presence of blood being a decisive factor in uncleanness. Fish is considered pure and acceptable as human food. But since 35

the sea is equally inhabited by animals of a more doubtful nature, and to avoid all misunderstanding and confusion, two distinctive characteristics of fish are given: fins and scales. The presence of these is a guarantee for purity.351 The text does not bother to give a definition of a bird but simply gives a list of tabooed ones. 352 A fourth class is formed by the "swarming" animals (kol hasserefJ) of which only various types of locust qualify as food. 353 Unlike those in the Mesopotamian texts, the Old Testament food prohibitions are not restricted to particular times or circumstances. The classification does not allow exceptions. Behind this elaborate structure one may assume a backcloth of an instinctive apprehension of certain animals. The rejection of the pig can be advanced as an illustration, since both the Babylonian and the biblical texts convey the impression that the animal was held in common contempt by the "Semites".35~ On the basis of irreducible popular sentiments and ancient dietary habits the priestly scholars have elaborated a systematic division of animals. The categorization is spatial: animals of the land, the sea and the air. This tripartite structure corresponds to Genesis 1! with which the texts under discussion share the passion for order. 55 Each class of animals is defined by certain characteristics (the birds being an exception) and imperfect members of their class, or animals whose class itself confounds the general scheme of the world, are labelled impure. According to the anthropologist Mary Douglas, whose analysis of purity laws has been stimulating also for Old Testament scholars, the "swarming" animals are rejected as a class since their typical movement "is not a mode of propulsion proper to any particular element, but cuts across the basic classification."356 It must be borne in mind, though, that the biblical texts constitute an a posteriori systematization through which emotive responses to certain animals were rationalized, justified and solidified into an encompassing world-view. In that sense the lists of Leviticus and Deuteronomy, so dull in appearance, offer a shorthand transcription of the priestly cosmology. 14. Death and the Profanation of Cultic Requisites

In my discussion of the social ethics it has been noted how the prohibition of murder was reinforced by the religious notions of pollution and defilement. 357 The blood of the slain and the corpses of the dead were thought to transmit impurity. The Mesopotamian practice of washing the blood off the military chariots is also attested to for Israel. The Book of Kings tells how Ahab's chariot was washed in the pool of Samaria, while the dogs licked the king's blood and harlots bathed in the waters. 358 The reference to the dogs and the harlots suggests that the efforts of purification were in vain; even though the blood disappeared, the impurity remained. 359 The physical contact with a corpse results in a state of impurity and a person thus defiled must remain outside the "camp".360 The circumstances of death do not influence the degree of impurity. The corpse of a person who has died naturally is as impure as that

of a victim of war. 361 Not only animate beings, but also houses and utensils are affected by the dangerous emanation of a corpse and must therefore be purified, once they have been exposed to the fatal radiation. 362 These demands also affect the priests. In this respect the degree of purity expected from the high priest surpasses that expected from the others; while his subordinate colleagues are allowed to touch the corpse of a relative in the first degree, he is to abstain from every human corpse. The priests are forbidden to participate in a restricted number of mourning rites,363 while the high priest may not participate in any from fear of contagion. 36~ The Mesopotamian texts hardly refer to the defilement incurred by the contact with a human corpse. The ideal of a swift and proper burial of the dead is apparently owing more to a concern for the welfare of the ghosts (etemmU) of the deceased than to a fear of contamination. To close our survey of the religious etiquette, the behaviour within the holy precincts must be mentioned. One was not to touch the sacred obJects 365 , nor to disarrange the cultic table that had been set Up.3 6 An Akkadian medical text diagnoses a specific foot disease as the result of inadvertently stepping on a cultic socle. 367 The biblical texts equally speak of the danger of a too familiar contact with the cultic realia. Everything related to the altar became "holy"; sacrifices were "very holy"368 and only fit for priestly consumption. Certain materials, like the "water of purification", "the sacred anointing oil" and the "pure and holy incense", had to be prepared according to particular prescriptions to ensure their holiness. 369 Profane use of the sacred substances was considered a sin and a threat to the life of the transgressor. 370 The sudden death of Uzzah, who unthinkingly put out his hand to the ark of God. offers a dramatic instance of the dangerous aspects of holiness. a71 All in all, the manners to be observed in intercourse with the gods do not defy all logic. The dei ties wanted to be approached by worshippers who respected their holiness and took pains to please them. Many of their standards of etiquette can be sympathized with; others elude our understanding and can only be listed as personal preferences of the deities. Among the latter we should range some of the food taboos. The observance of a code of cultic conduct implied a (temporary) separation from the profane world in which people made love and died, and thus gave one an inkling of the divine transcendence. 15. The Virtuous Mentality

In my discussion of the social ethics the last of the Ten Commandments has not been used as a rubric under which different rules could be assembled. "Thou shalt not covet •.. " strikes an ethical level more profound than the one represented by the behavioural code. It is the intention that is of importance here, the disposition that carries the action. From the individual deed we move to the general virtue. In Israel as well as in Mesopotamia the texts

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37

show a concern for the inclination below the surface. A significant token of this interest in motivation is the recognition of the unintentional wrongdoing, in religious affairs as well as in a juridical context. 372 A summary of the ethos of the two civilizations under investigation would not be complete without a few words about the virtues they considered vital. The cardinal virtue is a religious one, the "Fear of God", an ideal common to the whole of the ancient Near East. 373 The term , h uml'I'lty an d trus. t 3H designates a complex of reverence, obedlence, The reverenaefinds expression in the many formulae of praise in the Akkadian and the Hebrew prayers. God-fearing men are more intent on God's glory than on their own 375 ; sinners, on the other hand, scorn and despise their gods. 376 When the Book of Proverbs says that the ' ' ways, 3 7 7 1' t evok es man 'sb righteous " knows " God ln all h lS 0 e d ~'enae and faithfulness. Fear of the LORD is alien ~o the wicked, who forget their God. 378 Humility is to pervade the entire range of human activity. Mesopotamian rulers describe themselves traditionally as "meek"379 and "humble,,38o; the Babylonian king Nabopolassar calls himself even "a weak man, a beggar, who constantly seeks the Lord of 10rds."381 His attitude conforms to the omen apodosis which says that "the weakling will go out in the protection of the .strong , 'h ' f 0h 'lS Gd,,382 Th e one, the strong one wlll go out ln t e protectlon 0 • biblical prophets fiercell denounce the human hubris, be it ~ocial, political or religious. 38 Unlike the arrogant scoffer, the vlrtuous man is modest:38~ he will not hide his iniquity, nor will he slight his sins. 305 The pride of the irreverent man, on the contrary, blinds his eyes to his faults; he may even be so rash as to absolve himself of his own sins. 3H6 Akkadian royal inscri~tions put trust in the gods above confidence in one's own strength. 3o Israel's pro~hets propose quietness and trust as a way out of political crises;3o the same relation to God is echoed in the many Vertrauensformeln of the psalms. 309 These various aspects are inherent in the "Fear of God", the essence of all true wisdom. 3g0 All other virtues spring from this one source. For the ancients magnanimity, uprightness, equity, honesty, temperance, courage and whatever other qualities of the soul there may be, were unthinkable outside the scope of humble devotion to the personal gods. It is above all the wisdom literature and the behavioural omens which draw the profile of this calm and self-possessed man. 391 Reading these texts we see an image emerging, a prototype behind which lies a fusion of religious convictions and social ideals. Deviations from this mentality and model of behaviour singled one out as arrogant, as a bumpkin, a fool and ultimately as a sinner.

by the two civilizations the answer must be in the negative. The observable differences in accentuation are overshadowed by the broad consensus in the range of topics and the choice of values. Coming from the West we have the feeling of treading common ancient oriental ground. I t is not true that the Babylonians restricted the notion of sin to cuI tic negligences or ritual errors. Nor is it true that the movements of the heart formed the exclusive province of the Old Testament ethics. Both civilizations cherished an ideal of Godfearing humanity which should permeate the entire scope of human activity. Differences there are: some concern questions of detail and can be reduced to differences in temperament, ecology and socioeconomic structure. Others are huge and touch the core of the two cultures. These must be formulated, however, not in terms of ethics but in terms of religion. But do the ethics not have a religious foundation, one might object, was it not God who spoke the Ten Commandments? Nonetheless one has to distinguish between the theological framework and the content of the demands. The moral code was indeed protected by the shield of divine authority, but it remained materially conterminous with the moral views held by neighbouring civilizations. The values advanced by the codes of conduct pertain to the realm of wisdom, honoured throughout the whole of the ancient Near East. 392 If divine self-disclosure did produce a cleavage between Israel and the nations, it was not because it brought with it a totally different set of moral ideals. 393 The ways were to diverge, also within Israel itself, because of the religious foundation on which the current morals were based. The nature of this basis was to appear when the traditional norms came to be challenged and began to stagger.39~

16. Preliminary Evaluation

Now that we have traced the contours of the canonized ethics in Israel and Mesopotamia we must face the question formulated at the outset of our quest. Is it justified to speak of a moral superiority of the Old Testament ethics over the behavioural codes of the Babylonians? When we consider the contents of the moral model proposed 38

39

3. The Divine Custodians. Immanent and Transcendent Foundations of the Moral Order

1.

The Social Enforcement of the Moral Code

One by one we have inspected the building blocks of the moral edifice. After the study of the forms undertaken in the sec~nd :hapter we must now tackle the question of the corner-stone of thlS :lta~e~, the foundation upon which it rests. The issue is not the Justlf~­ cation of the demands; meta-ethical reflections like those e~uncl­ ated by Plato in his Republic are only marginally ,encountered ,ln the canonical texts of Israel and Mesopotamia. Thelr concern lS the enforcement of the accepted ethos: how could the moral order be upheld? , We shall have to distinguish between the power of persuaslOn which was used to buttress the moral code and the motivation of the social actors to observe it. The former furnishes the rules of conduct with an objective validity, while the latter concerns, the stirrings of the heart which moved the individual to a:t a:cordlngly. Motives are frequently suggested by the texts. Saplentlal ~dmo­ nitions underline the favourable effects of correct behavlour, appealing to the human hope of profit as an incentive to virtue. The ' Decalogue promises length of days to t~ose ,wh 0 "h onou~ " t he~r parents. In Mesopotamian letters the conJuratlon to fulfll one s duty is often supported by a reference to the social status and the . ' self-respect of the addressee: "Act llke a gent I ema,n 1"1 Wrl't er~ ln need of help could endeavour to arouse pity ,by draw,lng a C?mparlSon between their weakness and the means of WhlCh their pos~lbl~ benefactors had the disposal. 2 They alluded to the m~ral obllgatlon ~f the latter to help them through an appeal to their sense of sol~­ darity asking them to display a "fatherly" or "brotherly attl-

tude".~

A persuasive force, the effectiveness of which can hardly be overes timated, I ies in the general acceptance of the norms. The social consensus supports the group identity and provides a strong deterrent against deviant behaviour. The simple observation that "such a thing is not done in Israel" sufficed to defend the enforcement of a prohibition. 4 Obviously this incentive ~o conform dep~nds largel~ on the cohesion of the corrununity. CorrOSlon of the soclal boundarles, dissolution of the tribe into clans and families, the rise of in~i­ vidualism, are all developments which make the argume~t of s~c~al consensus lose much of its force. When the group alleglance dlmlnishes the motives of honour and shame become at least equivocal, and the code of conduct needs to be anchored elsewhere. Both Mesopotamia and Israel evolved naturally, the former much sooner than the latter, into stratified societies, striving for a

40

balance of forces and interests. 5 The self-evidence of virtue could no longer be taken for granted. Both on a local and a national scale juridical bodies were created, with social and religious responsibilities, to ensure the observance of the rules and the equitable solution of conflicts. This does not necessarily imply that many sections of the society were alienated from the corrunon values; the modern discrepancy between official standards and popular morals hardly occurred in societies where the law "codes" were paradigmatic rather than prescriptive. 6 The social control did not altogether vanish as it was partially formalized. The scope of the juridical system, however, was limited. What if a crime is not denounced and remains unnoticed? How does one punish the offender who manages to stay out of the hands of justice? How can one establish the facts and detect the false witness? These were problems that could not be solved by mere human ingenuity and demanded a referee with faculties of vision and action that transcended those of the king and his officials. The heavenly council had to be called to the rescue to remedy the imperfections of human jurisdiction. That is why the juridical practice was never purely secular, but always permeated by religious concepts and ceremonies. The intrinsic weaknesses of institutional coercion give a premonition of the direction from which more efficacious help could be expected: the gods had to make justice triumph. 2.

Religious Emotivity

The order followed in this study might suggest that the divine consolidation of the moral order was a late development in which a religious superstructure was added to fill the holes left by social institutions. Such an impression does not correspond with the facts. In reality the defence of the reigning ethos had always religious overtones. The very secular corrunercial correspondence of ancient Assyrian merchants, for instance, often strikes a religious note when moral issues are at stake. 7 Nevertheless, in times of crisis and social upheaval the ultimate importance of the gods as custodians of the sacrosanct order was certainly more readily perceived than under ordinary circumstances. Social strife heightened the need for an articulation of the inarticulated premisses. The protection offered by the gods can take two distinct but interrelated forms. On the one hand the deities are pictured as being emotionally involved in the normative values, which are sanctioned by their emotivity. On the other they seem to observe the conflict from outside as impartial judges, intervening only to prevent wickedness from prevailing. In the latter instance they often serve as witnesses of a contract that has been concluded between two parties, punishing disloyalty with their curse. First we shall consider the physiognomy of what can be called "religious emotivity". The term is used here to denote the conception according to which divine approval or disapproval determines the permissibility of a specific line of conduct. Human actions are promoted or prohibited inasmuch as the deity is pleased with or 41

, ' t'10n " 0 r "taboo" plays a repelled by them, The not 10n 0 f " a b om1na leading role in the formulation of this idea; it seems therefore desirable to begin by discussing the terminology of taboo. The Akkadian lexicon contains three terms that are often rendered by "taboo", viz., asakku, anziUu and ikkibu. !hey are, n~t synonymous; their individual coloration can be approx1mately 1n~1cated through a comparison with the equivalent Hebrew terms. Ear11er in this study attention has been drawn to the parallel between asakku and herem. 8 The Sumerogram for asakku is KU.AN (read AZAG), " " comb1n1ng the 1deogram f or "h 0 11" or '" prec10us me t a 1" W1' th the Originally denoting the temple ideogram for "heaven" or "god". treasures,lO it has come to designate something sacrosanct, con~e­ crated to the deity and withdrawn from prof~ne use. In Sumer1an texts the only verb it appears with is GU7 (KU) , "to eat". A legal record from Nippur, dating back to the third dynasty of Ur, shows that "eating the sacrosanct substance" originally referred to the profane consumption of consecrated food. 11 In Akkadian texts asakku can appear in combination with akiilu, "to eat", 12 as well as with sariiqu, "to steal", 13 both of which will at least originally have been used in their literal sense. Unlike its Hebrew counterpart liiqa~ min ha~erem, the Akkadian a~akka a~iilu came eventually to be used for crimes connected with fam1ly, tr1be or warfare, all of them considered equivalent to sacrilegious actions.1~ A parallel to the complex asakku/herem can be found in the saoer eato formula of Roman jurisdiction, by which a person and his possessions were consecrated to the gods (of the underworld), which probab ly involved confiscation and banishment. 1S In the Western Mesopotamian texts of the Mari archives the "eating of the aaakku" is mentioned in relation with oath taking. Discussing the expression "to put the king's asakku in the mouth of PN" , 16 which obviously stands for the taking of an oath, A. Marzal suggests that "since the aaakkum was a sacred property, object or food (offering), the term aaakkum could be substituted for the life or name of the deity (or king) in the oath taking formula. ,,17 Pushing a little further one might advocate a more literal explanation. At the occasion of the oath ceremony one was given a piece of consecrated food to eat. Though it would have no detrimental effect on the truthful oath bearer, it would turn into a disease for the perjurer. 18 The expression would thus preserve the memory of the sacral repast accompanying the oath ceremony.19 The occasional occurrence of the Sumerogram SAR.MES ("herbs") for aaakku supports the likelihood of this theory.2o The second term anzillu (or anzullu) 21 goes back to the Sumerian ANZIL and designates holy objects and substances. The biblical equivalent would be qQdea. In Sumerian texts it usually appears in combination with GU7(KU), "to eat",22 which suggests a similar offence to asakka akalu. The Old Testament evidence favours the affinity of the two types of sancta trespass, since it calls the violation of the ~erem and the qodea both ma'al. 23 Very soon, though, anzillu (ANZIL) came to denote a "prohibited thing" in general and already in Sumerian texts "eating the anziUu" can stand for "engaging in villainy".2~ Other verbs it can go with are epeau, "to do", kalliiru, "to

.

42

plan", naljiiru, "to observe" and kubbusu (Sumerian GIR. US. SA) "to step, to trample on".2S In the latter verb the original sense of anzillu can be glimpsed, since it is normally cuI tic objects such as a barasigU-soc~e or purification water that are - often inadvertently - stepped upon. 26 More so than asakku, anzillu has received the connotation of something horrible, loathsome and repulsive. Thus the Babylonian king Sin-sar-iskun can boast that falsehood is an anzillu to him. 27 Finally there is ikkibu, which has the broadest semantic spectrum. Not Semitic in origin, it is a loan word from the Sumerian NiG.GIG (Emesal EMGEB), "grievous, painful thing". When the Akkadian translates this Sumerian expression it usually offers maruatu, "trouble, hardship",28 but anziUu is also possible. 29 Ikkibu contains the notions of horror and holiness. In an Eblaite lexical text ikkibu is rendered by qadisum (ga-ti-aum)30 and the NU.GIG priestess is called a qadiatu in Akkadian. 31 The complexity of nuances is eloquently illustrated by the Eblaite lexical text, which also gives the glosses i-gi-ib (cf. ikkibu) and 'd(E)-mu ha(r)mu (cf. ~erem).3l On the basis of this evidence one can maintai~ that ikkibu encompasses many of the connotations of asakku and anzillu, but that the components of inviolability and abomination are its most significant features. The Hebrew trJ~ebiih, "abomination", is its closest semantic equivalent in the Old Testament texts, although this lacks its ambivalence. Although in Sumerian texts NiG.GIG may simply designate something inconceivable,33 it usually refers to something incompatible with the character of the gods, provoking their anger and repulsion. Thus the one who attacks a just verdict and loves an unjust verdict is called an abomination (NiG.GIG) to Utu. 34 In Akkadian texts of the first millennium it occurs in connection with e~eBu and akiilu with the general sense "to conunit a grievous sin". 5 Besides the most usual acceptation, "something despicable (to the gods)", the early connotation of something inconceivable, impossible and out of reach still surfaces in some contexts. 36 The notion of holiness comes to the fore when ikkibu designates a thing, place or action sacred to a god or reserved to a king. 37 On the whole, though, the negative sense of a reprehensible thing or action, a cause of divine displeasure, predominates. Of the three Akkadian terms somewhat indiscriminately translated as "taboo", the latter, i.e., ikkibu, is most frequently used to endorse the moral code by a religious emotivity. Its positive connotations recede when it is enlisted to proclaim the enormity of a particular action. Because of its sacral coloration it is often brought in to defend rules of religious etiquette, but like its equivalent trJ'ebiih it also serves to stigmatize certain deviations from the normative socio-religious conduct. Food prohibitions are justified by the observation that the gods hold a special dish in abomination,38 but a vain promise is also called an "abomination to Marduk".39 Many a Sumerian proverb consists of a list of actions (usually in groups of three) described as "abomination of Utu". '+0 This points to the important role of Sama~ (Utu), the divine judge, as upholder of the accepted norms, even if other gods could also be

=

43

summoned as protectors.~1 It also foreshadows the enumerative proverbs of the Old Testament.~2 In secular usage the expression ikkib sa Samas/DN has turned into an outcry of indignation, comparable to the American "it is a God-damn shame!,,43 It sometimes appears in letters as an emotional comment on immoral behaviour. Althoug the Hebrew to'ebah may connote a thing or an action abhorred by humans,~~ it is mostly used to denote something reprehensible in the eyes of the LORD. Deceit, lies and antisocial behaviour are labelled abominations,~5 but also prohibited food and blemished sacrificial animals are designated as to'ebiih. ~6 The evildoer who committed such horrors was called an abomination too.~7 The affective nuance of the term is indicated by the synonymous parallelism with an' "to hate"~8 and the antithetic parallelism with ra/ion, , ~ 9 "pleasure". The notion of abomination falls into a larger structure governed by the opposition between divine pleasure and displeasure. If certain actions are abhorred by the gods, others please them and earn their favour. In Mesopotamia it was the god Samas, symbolized by the solar disc 5o , who stood in the centre of these speculations. The general sense of justice had been hypostatized in his personality, while his omnipresence and omniscience guaranteed a never-failing control of the moral order. His position as a patron of justice goes often unmentioned, but sometimes admonitions are strengthened by a reference to his pleasure. The care of the poor and the downtrodden pleases Samas, bus autocratic behaviour is repulsive to him. 51 In many letters he is mentioned as the one who will punish wrong~con­ duct. "For Samas' sake, if you lie ... ", "Act so as to please Samas ... 1,,52 Apart from the sanctions of Samas which were widely feared, writers sometimes also referred to the personal gods of the addressee. The latter did not promote a different kind of ethics,53 but were on more intimate terms with the individual. As his divine parents they were the first to whom he had to render account. Thus an Old Babylonian letter adjures the addressee to appease his personal gods, Samas and Ninsubur, by taking good care of the field committed to his charge.5~ Old Assyrian letters often refer to the 55 family deities who see and take note of the facts and rebuke liars. In some cases the allusion is simply to "the god" who does not permit wickedness. 56 A specific feature of the Old Assyrian letters is the occasional reference to the spirits of dead kinsmen, who serve as some sort of personified conscience. 57 In the Old Testament religion the personal God and the divine Patron of justice are one; his affective involvement in human behaviour is not only demonstrated by his abhorrence of trickery and falsehood, but also positively attested to by the texts which proclaim his love ('hb) of righteous actions (~ediiqot), (deeds of) justice ({daqah) and (observance of) the legal norms (mi8pa~). 58 The LORD "delights" (~ape/i) in loyalty; 59 a just weight is h~s "pleasure" (rii/ion). 60 For all the differences between Mesopotamla and Israel, we must grant a similarity in the divine enforcement of the ethical code. In both civilizations it is based on an emotional interest of the respective deities in the moral values; infringement 61 of these does not leave them cold.

44

3.

Divine Jurisdiction

The role of the gods in the maintenance of the moral order could also be placed in a different conceptual frame. Aside from their affective attachment to the ideals of righteousness they also acted by virtue of their juridical office. Within this conception they appear as judges or as witnesses. In the Mesopotamian pantheon it is once again Samas, "the judge of heaven and earth", who usually holds the judgment-seat. "Let the lawless exert themselves, Utu is the bringer of every dat', affirms a Sumerian proverb, predicting the triumph of justice. 2 A Middle Babylonian letter mentions a field that has been alotted but not yet been given, and insists that, "by the judgment of Samas I" the beneficiary must not be wronged. 63 A scene from the Fable of the Fox in which the wolf (1) urges Samas not to let the persecutor, who forsook the commandment of right and wrong, escape from his judgment, is equally telling. 6~ The references could easily be multiplied; up to the last days of the Mesopotamian civilization Samas was considered the juridical agent par excellence. 65 In Israel the sun was not worshipped as a deity of justice, though its penetrating glow from which nothing could remain "hidden" inspired the composer of Psalm 19 to draw a parallel with the law of the LORD, for whom man's "hidden sins" hold no secret. 66 When human justice wrongs the innocent, the LORD, "God of vengeance", "Judge of the earth", is beseeched to "shine forth". 6 7 These texts, to which many others could be added,68 leave no doubt as to the forensic role of the LORD. The imagery and the terminology have traits in common with the Mesopotamian conceptions of Samas, witness the quoted texts. 69 Samas in Mesopotamia and the LORD in Israel were the patrons of the law, written or unwritten, who inspected the ways of their respective subjects. 7o

4.

Oaths of Asseveration and Imprecations

The gods, then, are viewed as the ultimate moral agents who, ex natura and ex officio, uphold the commonly endorsed code of conduct. Their interventions were provoked by crime or elicited by the supplications of maltreated individuals. People could also choose to involve the gods in their actions by swearing an oath. Since the latter practice played a key role in the ethical system of the ancients, it deserves to be considered in some detail. We can start with the general observation that the oath functioned as a means to secure the reliability of the human word. In jurisdiction or in the realm of religion, asseverative or promissory, the oath explicitly invoked the curse of the gods upon the deceitful lips. Oath and curse belong together; the gravity of the latter vouches for the value of the former. Excepting the numerous elliptic self-imprecations that spice so many a speech ("May God do so to me and more also •.• "), we find that the oath and the curse are encountered in three specific situations. In legal proceedings the oath serves to establish the facts of a case; in human relations,

45

be they political, commercial or whatever, it is meant to guarantee allegiance and faithfulness; its converse, the curse, is ultimately an important though often implicit threat for sinners. Although these domains overlap I shall broadly follow this tripartition in my discussion of oath and curse, relegating the promissory oath to §5 and discussing the curse as retribution in §7. In the Mesopotamian court the oath was considered an appropriate and efficacious instrument to establish the facts of a case, in the absence of which no verdict could be pronounced. 71 An Akkadian document from Elam relates how an accused is questioned "before the god" (mahar ilim) , because the original tablet concerning a certain amo~nt of silver has been destroyed and a reliable record is thus lacking. 72 Whenever the legal situation could not be verified by examination of evidence, e.g., when one's property had been stolen or one's slave had made off, the facts of a case had to be declared on oath. 73 At times, when the judges were unable to reach a verdict, plaintiff and/or defendant were enjoined to take an oath of asseveration, relegating the case to the heavenly tribunal.7~ Of such oaths we have a few examples, couched as prayers, in which an accused pleads solemnly his innocence before "the god, the lord of the oath". 7 S The asseveration had to be spoken in the presence of the god, sometimes a statue of the deity, but often some other symbol like the divine weapon. 76 Old Assyrian texts show that the oath was taken in "the gate of the god",77 while Nuzi texts simply state that the litigants are "sent to the gods" (ana iUini ~apaY'U). 78 Many oaths were also made outside the precincts of the court as guarantees of a statement's truth. 79 The efficacy of this practice rested on the belief that the perjured brought upon themselves the curse of the gods. To materialize this threat the ceremony could involve an ordeal, a sovereign test of the veracity of the person under oath. 80 The water ordeal is well known through the Codex Hammurapi, but the judges had many other means at their disposal. n When discussing the term asakku it has been suggested that the oath taker was given some sacred substance to eat, which would prove fatal in case of perjury.82 Some rather unique Neo-Assyrian private legal documents speak of an oath "by water (and) oil, by snake (and) scorpion". 8 3 The use of water and oil will be discussed later in this chapter; snake and scorpion are probably mentioned because in case of suspected disloyalty snake's venom or poison of the scorpion was administered to the party in default. The Babylonian practice of dispensin~ poison as a form of judicial punishment has a parallel in Israel. 8 The administering of a cup of poison as a means of capital punishment was widespread in the ancient world; the execution of Socrates is a well known case. 8S Despite the normally final character of this penalty, it remained in essence an ordeal: the innocent would presumably prove invulnerable to the danger. 86 The importance of oath and curse in the Israelite administration of justice is exemplified by the treatment of the wife suspected of adultery (Num. 5,11-31). When legal proof is lacking she is to be taken to the sanctuary where, among other things, her jealous husband presents "a vegetal offering that brings iniquity to remembrance", i.e., to the attention of God. 87 The k8hen then sets the 46

wife "before the LORD" and makes her take an oath. At the same time she is given to drink "bitter water that brings the curse",88 a mixture of "holy water" and dust taken from the floor of the temple, in which the curses, wri t ten in ink and then erased in the bit ter liquid, are materially present. 89 In case of perjury the curse will pass into her bowels, make her body swell and her thighs rot, signifying her future sterility. If blameless~ she will be free from the curse and be able to conceive children. 9u Similar uses of the oath are referred to in the Book of the Covenant. When one Israelite has a grudge against another, suspecting him of the embezzlement of his property, "the case of those two shall come to the gods; the one whom the gods declare guilty shall restitute in double to his neighbour" (Ex. 22,8). The context hints at an oath of innocence in verse 7 and speaks of an oath of asseveration in verse 10, thus suggesting that the divine verdict was the outcome of an ordeal. 91 According to Leviticus, possible witnesses in court were publicly charged to testify, which rendered passive complicity liable to the curse (Lev. 5,1). A proverb refers to this practice when it says that "the partner of a thief hates his own life; he hears the curse but discloses nothing" (Prov. 29,24).92 The juridical custom has its parallel outside the court in the curse uttered by the wronged individual who is unable to sue his adversary, either because he does not know him, or because he is lacking in means. We hear how Micah's mother, on the theft of her eleven hundred pieces of silver, curses the perpetrator, thus bringing inevitable misfortune upon her own son (Judg. 17-18). References to similar imprecations are encountered in a fair number of other texts. 93 Both in Israel and in Mesopotamia such curses were not considered mere words. Al though a gratuitous malediction would not reach its aim, 9~ it was neven taken lightly. "An (unfavourable) legal verdict is acceptable, (but) a curse is not acceptable" says a Sumerian proverb. 9s ' 5.

Promissory Oaths

The human word, sealed by an oath, could consist in an assertion concerning the past as well as a promise for the future. It is the second category that I shall now deal with. A sworn agreement was thought appropriate by the ancients in various situations. Each time there was doubt as to whether the natural impulse would suffice to bring about a desirable attitude or mode of action, there was the possibility of ensuring it by exacting an oath. For a proper comprehension of this phenomenon it is helpful to keep in mind that ancient Near Eastern man perceived human relationships, other than those created by consanguinity, essentially as covenants, be they sometimes covenants in the widest sense of the ~ord. The relationship could be a merely economic "joint venture", It could be matrimonial, political or mainly juridical. Common to them all is a standardization of roles that is agreed upon by the formal entrance into the pact. A covenant is always validated by oaths; deviations from the line of conduct demanded by a newly 47

created situation meet with the curse of the deities who have witnessed the bargain. At times one party only consents to respect the properties of the other, but often much more is involved. This particular mode of regulating social intercourse was by no means restricted to the territory of the Assyrians, the Babylonians and the Israelites. Many records indicate that similar proceedings were customary among Hittites, Arameans, Canaanites, Phoenicians, Elamites, Greeks and Romans as well. 96 We shall now consider the role of the promissory oath in mutual agreements of various natures. At the lowest level it serves as a sanction of property and ownership. The first tablet of the lexical series HAR.RA = hubullu, which deals with the juridical terminology of cont'i-acts, sh~ws that seller and buyer swore not to reconsider their bargain. In the Old Babylonian period the sale was validated by a still obscure ceremony with the bukanum-pestle. 97 The contracts evoke various other symbolic actions, including perhaps a friendship meal. 98 If the circumstances required it, the agreement could be committed to writing. In the document the parties involved swore by the gods that they would not unilaterally change the legally established situation nor raise protests against it. Old Assyrian records show that other economic transactions, such as loans, could also be sealed by an oath. 99 In all likelihood a fee, similar to the Greek amfourion,loo was charged for the written registration of such agreements. It might be this payment that is referred to by the advice to "deposit the money of the oath, for you will take it (again) from the gods."lol One had better make this small investment and be safe, than run the risk of losing much more through false economy.l02 Unfortunately our knowledge of the Israelite practice in this domain is much smaller. From Jeremiah 32 one gathers that the acquisition of a field was validated by a sealed deed of purchase which, together with an open copy, was kept for future consultation (vv. 10-11). There is no positive evidence that the transaction included an oath. Individuals could enter into a relationship with implications reaching further than a sales contract, for themselves and for their offspring. To protect such pacts of friendship and cooperation the gods were called upon to act as witnesses and to see to the observance of the terms of the relationship. Thus, in the case of Jacob and Laban, the LORD is said to keep watch between the two parties when one is absent from the other. Where social control fails, he is their witness and will judge the one who breaks the pact. l03 The Old Testament records a number of other instances where a promise of friendship is confirmed by an oath.10~ Also marriaye was understood as a covenant to which the LORD has stood witness. 05 The Israelite wedding ceremony probably involved an oathjl06 there is no proof of a similar practice in Mesopotamia. Babylonian wedding contracts were only laid down in writing when contested, or when concomitant circumstances necessitated a legal record. Apart from such exceptional cases,107 an oath of matrimonial fidelity was not customaryj a reciprocal ~romise, spoken before witnesses, was considered sufficient. lo Akkadian deeds of adoption, however, created in order to protect the transactors from illegal claims, were validated by an 48

4

oath in which the contractors swore to stick to their agreement. 109 The Old Babylonian Fable of the Eagle and the Serpent, now Incorporated into the Epic of Etana but originally perhaps a parable of an historical conflict between two cities,110 illustrates the use and significance of this religious practice. The two animals swear an oath of friendship to each other, invoking a curse upon the one who transgresses the "bounds of Samas".lll When his young have grown in size and age the eagle plans to devour the young of his friend, in spite of the warning words of one of his fledglings. After the crime the serpent cries for retaliation, a praler heard by Samas, who cunningly catches the evildoer in his "net". 12 Sworn agreements between individuals could impose a line of conduct on the coming generations of the families involvedj political treaties decided on the future of entire nations. Since the discovery of the Hittite and the Neo-Assyrian vassal-treaties the phenomenon of the loyalty oath and the literary structure of the pacts have been the subject of thorough study.113 Biblical scholars explored the parallelism between the treaties on the one hand and the Decalogue and Deuteronomy on the other, with sometimes farreaching implications for the covenantal theology.l14 Within the present context it suffices to bear in mind that the life of the nations was equally regulated by oath and curse, i.e., supervised by the gods. The Bible mentions, among others,115 the covenant between t~: ~ing of Babylon and the kin~ of Israel, ratif~ed by the curse (alah) by the God of Israel. ll A rupture of thls bond will be punished by the LORD. Assyrian rulers complained that those of their vassals who engaged in hostilities "sinned" against the agreement sworn by the great gods l17 and had apparently "pronounced the oath in a callous fashion."ll8 Also the loyalty of the population towards their rightful king and the crown prince was warranted by an oath of its representatives, usually the elders. 119 On a higher level we find covenants in which the god is not merely a witness but actively implicated as one of the partners. Thus at the coronation of the Assyrian king the latter had to present a golden bowl with oil to the god A~~ur. One is led to conclude that the relation between king and god in Assyria somewhat equalled that between a sovereign and a vassal.120 In Israel this relation was symbolized by the unction. It is in virtue of this privileged position that the holder of the royal office can be addressed as God's "son".121 The very insistence on the covenantal terminology excludes the possibility of interpreting this designation in a physical sense. On the contrary, one of the main implications of the covenant is that God and man are related not by nature but by divine election. Much the same can be said about the Israelites, who are chosen to be "sons to the LORD" (Deut. 14,1). Compared with the Mesopotamian documents, the Old Testament displays a striking preference for the covenantal concept to define the relation between God and his creatures. 122

49

6.

Expressions and Symbols

The oath of asseveration and the promissory oath have been the subjects of the first two phases of my survey. The collected material, however condensed the discussion of it may have been, justifies the contention that the oath/curse complex preserved the fragile human word from cracking and breaking. Directives for conduct made on the basis of a contrat social were ratified by an appeal to divine protection. The mobility and complexity of the social structure, together with the fickleness of human nature, required this flexible but absolute support. It furnished the necessary link between the general principles of behaviour, championed by the gods, and all the situations not expressly covered by the code of conduct. Before pursuing my theme I shall insert a presentation of the terminology and the ceremonial connected with oath and curse. Their use and function has been described and illustrated; I shall now deal with the question of how they were referred to and by which acts they were corroborated. The central Akkadian term is mamltu (Sumerian (NAM.)ERIM or SAG. BA), probably derived from the root (w)armt "to speak", meaning "oath" as well as "curse".123 One "takes" (lequ, /iabiitu) or "swears" (tarmt) an oath by "pronouncing the life of the god" (nis ili(m) zakiiru). 12~ In a case of disloyalty the mamltu "catches up with" (kasiidu), "seizes" (/iabiitu) or "binds" (kasu) a person. 125 In Hebrew the "curse" ('iiliih), contained in the "oath" (~bit'iih), is sometimes considered a hypostatized power, much like the Akkadian mamitu. 126 It is said to "go out" (jii/iii') and to "devour" ('iikal).12? A secondary term for curse is the Akkadian arratu or erretu, cognate to the Hebrew 'iirar. 128 The root qU, "to become thin, light, weak", exists in both languages, but only the Hebrew has developed the acceptation of "to curse" for the pi' el. One can also relevate the Hebrew roots z'm and qbb, but these denote above all the act of execration. 129 The pact concluded by an oath is called riksu or rikis/s/ltu (from rakiisu, "to bind") in Akkadian and bertt in Hebrew. The latter is "cut" (kiirat) by the two parties. 130 Clauses and curses were written down in the accompanying chart, called adu in Akkadian and 'editt (or 'djm, see Is. 33,8 [Qls a ]) in Hebrew. Both terms can also designate the treaty itself; they may be compared with the Aramaic 'dn ('dj, 'dj'), from which adu seems to derive. 131 The stipulations of the covenant can be called "limits" (Akkadian itWn/it~, cf. Hebrew ~8q/~uqqtm), which are not to be transgressed. 132 Through the treaty "peace is established" (Akkadian salima sakiinu and Hebrew

'asiih siilOin).133

The taking of an oath was surrounded by various rites. Some were preparatory! like the cultic purification preceding an oath of asseveration, 3~ others symbolized the newly created relationship or materialized the latent sanction. Many consisted of a combination of the latter two elements. An often recurring feature was the demonstrative meal over which a pact was concluded. According to a letter from the Mari archives the partners "ate from the same platter and drank from the same gob le t" , 13 5 apparent ly to signify thei r partnership. This covenan t 50

repast was a well known phenomenon in Israel;136 it is in all likelihood alluded to in Psalm 55,21 by the term ~lamtm. With reference to Gen. 3,22; Ex. 22,7; Ps. 125,3 and the selem-offerings one can translate verses 21-23 as follows: He stretches out his hand to his covenant meal, Meanwhile desecrating his pact of friendship; Smoother than butter is his mouth,13? But inwardly he wages war; Softer than oil are his words, But they are in fact drawn daggers. It is an accusation of hypocrisy, portrayed also in the doublehearted man of Prov. 23,7, who says "eat and drinkl", but whose mind is not meditating friendship. 138 One may assume a relationship between these ritual meals and the custom of anchoring the threat of the curse in the bodies of the partners. The effect of the various actions - drinking water, eating bread, being anointed with oil - was twofold; it signified the bond of friendship as well as the danger of disloyalty. In case of hypocrisy the bread would turn into a dangerous asakku,139 and the water and the oil which had penetrated the body would cause irremediable disorders.l~o Paul's interpretation of the Lord's Supper seems to be indebted to these conceptions, when he says that "anyone who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment upon himself", a judgment consisting in weakness, illness and possibly death.l~l

The menace of the curse could also be dramatized by other ceremonies. Thus the treaty between A~~urneriiri and Mati'ilul~2 was concluded over a ritual in which a ram's head was torn off, while a simile curse in the treaty says: "This head is not the head of the ram, it is the head of Mati'ilu ( ... ); just as the ram's head is [torn off] ( ..• ), so may the head of the aforesaid be torn off (sc, when he goes against the stipulations of this treaty) ."1~3 Other rituals involved the burning, blinding and striking of wax figureS.l~~ Israel was, albeit to a lesser extent, familiar with such procedures, witness the texts that speak of cutting up an animal in covenant ceremonies.l~5 In some cases a tactual contact with a numinously charged object was deemed sufficient to secure the value of a solemn statement, Akkadian texts speak of touching (lapiitu) the sacrificial animall~6 or holding a sacred object like the harp while taking an oath. lit? The powers attributed to such hallowed things can be gathered from the custom, attested to for the Palestinian Jews at the time of Jesus, of swearing by the temple, the gold of the temple, the altar and the sacrifice.l~8 The "limits" imposed by the oath could be visualized in Mesopotamia by drawing a magic circle. Thus in Bit meseri, a sequence of prophylactic measures against evil spirits, the iisipu surrounded the house with a circle of flour (zisurru) called "the miimIt of the great gods".1~9 The demons were not allowed to cross this line, or else the curse of the great gods would fall upon them. A prayer 51

to make it fit in with our a posteY'ioY'i systematizations; also the isolated sin could bring the curse upon the sinner. The relation between sin and the oath/curse complex is further demonstrated by the recurrent expression ite e-tequ, "to trespass the limits", in penitential confessions; 159 the image reflects the notion of the rriimitu as the "line that cannot be crossed".160

addresses the rriim'1-tu (SAG.BA) as the ufiuY'tu sa la eteqi, "the line that cannot be crossed".150

7.

The Curse as Retribution

After this excursion into the realms of terminology and symbolic acts I now return to the question of the function of oath and curse. It can be observed that they provide an ad hoc sanctification of a restricted moral code within a clearly defined relationship. Ultimately, though, the ancients considered the curse of the gods as the typical retribution for any infringement of the general principles of morality. A specific line of conduct needed sometimes to be expressly connected with an oath in order to enforce its adoption,151 much as the general labour act must be complemented by particular labour agreements, both of which are protected by the public authorities. The explicit reference to the divine upholders of morality, however, exemplifies the logical structure of the entire behavioural code. The latter's authority is derived from the gods, who inflicted their curse on transgressors. In Israel this model fits in perfectly with the covenant perspective within which the Old Testament places the relationship between God and man. 152 The elaborate network of laws can be pree sented as the ~uqqtm of the b Y'tt between the LORD and Israel. On the failure to meet God's demands the 'iiliih is launched, according to which "ever~one who steals and everyone who swears falsely" shall be cut off .15 This conceptual approach, particularly dear to the Deuteronomic tradition,154 adds a distinctive personal touch to the call for obedience. The LORD, Judge of heaven and earth who delights in righteousness, is the suzerain love for whom must be shown by a loyal observance of his stipulations. Al though the Assyrian ideology of the kingship conceived the ruler as a vassal of the god Mi~ur, it cannot be said that the covenant category was a central notion in Mesopotamian religion. Yet there can be no doubt that the moral code was validated by the mamitu. A glance at the third tablet of the SuY'pu series shows that the rriimitu resulting from a broken loyalty oath is put alongside the rriimitu resulting from the consumption of stolen meat. 155 Many other entries of this tablet witness to the fact that the curse was the sanction of a breach of oath as well as the bitter consequence of sin. The proximity of oath/curse and sin is also suggested by a Standard Babylonian physiognomic text which gives the apodosis mUt rriimiti im1t, "he will die from the mamitu", wi th the variant reading aY'ni for rriimiti. 156 AY'nu (Sumerian NAM.TAG.GA) may refer to a "sin" as well as to its subsequent "punishment"; in the mind of the ancients crime, guilt and punishment were logically connected. When SuY'pu IV states that aY'nu and rriimitu are both inflicted to cause the people grief, 157 the meaning "punishment" for aY'nu evidently predominates. J. Bottero supposes aY'nu to be a sub-category of mGmitu, the latter being as it were the condensation of various punishments. 158 One must be cautious, though, not to strain the evidence

52

8.

I it

I t

The Autonomous Curse

If in Mesopotamia the curse as the retribution of sin is not set in the frame of a covenant theology, what then is its nature? One gains the impression that it operates quite independently of the relationship between the individual and his gods. The many symbolic actions connected with the oath could, much more than in Israel, also be understood as magical manipulations to render the curse automatically efficacious. It is understood that the curse, though not justifying the moral code, vouches for its validity. We must now face the question whether it is a transcendent or immanent protection of the law. Is it a weapon in the hands of ~he gods or a power inherent in proscribed objects and actions? One gets an inkling of the complexity of the situation when one considers that rriimitu usually refers to the oath and the consequences of perjury, but occasionally to a demonized and deified power. 161 This tendency to personification is also attested to for Israel. Although the Old Testament rejects an outright demonification of the 'iiliih it will be observed that the verbal imagery tends to hypostatize it. Like the ~aHii't, "sin", it "makes it lair" (Y'iibaf/) within the sinner,162 it "devours" ('iikal) 163 and "breaks loose" (jiIf/ii') .164 Taking into account the auto-efficacy of the curse apparent in the administration of the "bitter water", the conclusion is inevitable that both in Israel and Mesopotamia the concept of curse is rooted in a "primitive mentality" which viewed it as an autonomous power. Confirmation of this can be found in the fact that curses are usually expressed in the SUbjunctive mood and the passive voice. 165 Frequently, too, the oath is elliptically phrased, making it impossible to judge whether its effect is automatic or depending on God's authority. 166 Restricting ourselves for a moment to the Israelite situation it is possible to assert that the 'iiliih has its antecedents in a world-view impregnated by a belief in magic. Originally, then, the curse was considered an immanent retribution. The implications of this observation can only be fully grasped when it is set against the background of the ongoing discussion among Old Testament scholars about the theology of retribution. J. Pedersen' s lamel. I-tB Life and CultuY'e l67 and Fahlgren's study of the concept of fJ ediiqah 1 8 have prepared the ground for this debate. K. Koch took up Fahlgren's idea of the "synthetische Lebensauffassung" (slnthetical world-view) and termed it "schicksalwirkende Tatsphare".1 9 In his view the Old Testament allots to God the role of confirming or triggering off the natural results of a human action; it does not ascribe to Him interventions that would introduce a foreign element into the normal 53

course of events. Although Koch strains the evidence in his eagerness to purify the Old Testament of forensic schemes of thought, one can hardly deny that he has stimulated interest in a neglected aspect of the Old Testament hamartiology. Do we have to concede the correctness of his theory in respect of the curse? The answer to that question cannot be whole-heartedly affirmative. A study of the prescriptions for the ordeal of the suspected wife in Numbers 5 shows that an originally magical procedure has been turned into a religious practice. 170 The bitter elixir is no longer auto-efficacious, since the very wording of the curse introduces the LORD as its executor (v. 21). In Solomon's temple prayer, too, the LORD is mentioned as the one who intervenes after a false oath of innocence. 171 His initiative goes beyond offering a helping hand to a sequence of events that would take place in any case. The immanent power of the 'alah shimmers through in various places, but the Old Testament religion has converted it into a willing instrument of justice at the disposal of the supreme Judge. We must now return to the Mesopotamian material which invited our question concerning the nature of the curse. Unlike the 'alah, the mamitu is frequently referred to as a power related to specific objects. The Surpu series mentions the mamitu of a stove, a bed, a cup, a table and various other items. 172 E. Reiner suggested that these objects were symbols connected with oath procedures; 173 although this is a viable solution for some of the entries, it is hardly satisfactory with regard to the objects mentioned above. Perhaps a slightly different answer can be suggested. In the Mesopotamian conception all things created had a circumscribed function and purpose; the Sumerians referred to this as their ME, which the Babylonians translated as pal"~u. In English it may be rendered as "nature".17" If the objects were employed in a wa~ contrary to their nature, it would not be without consequence. 17 The surpu series seems to indicate that if anything was wrongly used the mamitu would be released. It is difficult to determine whether the curse is sent by the gods or whether it in some way inhabited the objects themselves. Since the deities are not expressly mentioned as the executive powers, one is under the impression that the world order is not externally imposed and enforced, but autonomous to some degree. This seems to be at odds with the moral agency of the gods; the tension between their role and the corrective function of the immanent mamitu was indeed never completely resolved by the Mesopotamians. In their theological speculations the gods remained in some way subject to the general cosmic laws of which the mamitu seems to represent one aspect. One must bear in mind that the being of the Mesopotamian deities themselves was lar~ely conterminous with the phenomena they were thought to control. 17 Once the "immanence" of the Babylonian pantheon is grasped, the immanence of retribution will not come as a complete surprise. In retrospect we must conclude that the protection of the moral order consisted of a social, a religious and a magical component. Human control was limited in its scope and its effects; it relied heavily on the involvement of the gods for its efficacy. The divine supervision was not confined to the channels of jurisdiction. Since

the deities had a personal interest in the code of conduct, they did not allow the evildoers to escape their judgment. Their retributive measures culminated in the curse, a concept which had its origins in magic. It sprang from a primitive mentality, in which various objects were thought to release a fatal numen when manipulated in the wrong way. The autonomous character of the curse was only partially overcome in Mesopotamia, while the Old Testament contains reminiscences of its magical past.

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4. The Wrath of the Gods. Religious Interpretations of Adversity and Misfortune

1.

Introduction

The temple of morality firmly grounded in the authority of the gods - it is the picture of a massive and unwavering block, unmoved by the succession of events. The humans who lived under the regime of this ideology, however, had their lives tossed and turned by t~e flow of history. How did they relate their experiences to then beliefs and convictions? What light did their religion throw on their history? An answer to these questions is found in the historiography of the ancient Near East , often treated by the ancients as a theologi, cal discipline. The writers are wrapped in a prophet's mantle, uSing the past as a text upon which to preach to contemporaries and future generations. Calamities are conceived as divinely contrived punishments, the human actors often shrinking to the dimensions of puppets. Examples of this abound. An old tradition speaks of the legendary Piriggalnungal, one of the seven mythological sages, "who angered Adad in heaven so that he let no rain and (hence) vegetation be in the country for three years." I In the Curse of Akkad the destruction of the city-state by the Guti is blamed on the exaggerated fervour of Naram-Sin for Inanna of Akkad at the expense of Enlil of Nippur. 2 In the epic that bears his name, Tukulti-Ninurta is said,to have triumphed over Kastilias IV because the gods were angry with the latter. Why did the Hittite kingdom suffer such a relentless plague under Mursili II? His prayers show that he saw the cause in the sin of his father Suppiluliuma, who broke the oath sworn to Egypt. 3 Because of David' s presumption the LORD sent a pestilence upon Israel. 4 Crime and punishment are the ebb and flow of history; sin and retribution dictate its rhythm. All over the ancient Near East historical events are understood in the light of a pre-established pattern, in which nothing happens on earth unless it is decreed in heaven. s Many stories focus on rulers whose personal fate is presen~ed as a terrible example of the consequences of devious behaviour. Sulgi, the king of ancient Ur, was infamous for his profanation of the cult of the gods. 6 Up to the Seleucidic era people remembered the terrible skin disease that was his reward. 7 The Qumran prayer of Nabonidus tells how this Babylonian king was smitten by "a stinking boil" (s~n' b' js') for seven years. An exorcist (gzr) remitted (sbq) his sins and instructed him to glorify and honour the name of 56

the God Most High by writing down the account of his healing. s Herodotus refers to the story of Pheretime who took a ferocious revenge on her rebellious subjects and later died of a horrible disease, "for it seems that excessive human vengeance arouses the resentment of the gods."g According to 2 Macc. 9, Antiochus Epiphanes was stricken with "an incurable and invisible disease of the bowels" which quickly killed him with a stinking death, because he had haughtily proclaimed his intention to destroy the Jews of Jerusalem. His counterpart in the New Testament is Herod Agrippa, who was consumed by worms because of his pride. ID These are but a few among a myriad of others, whose disgraceful death was a warning to the living. These tales of greatness and humiliation, told again and again, furnished the model by which the individual could interpret the adversities that confronted him in his own life. Eventually this hardened into the doctrine of individual retribution. Personal names indicate that this idea harks back to the beginnings of the BabyIonian civilization. Mina-ami, "What-is-my-Sin"ll and Serat-DN, "The-Punishments-of-DN,,12 are Old Akkadian anthroponyms into which experiences of distress (a painful birth, a handicapped baby?) have fossilized. Their testimony is impressively echoed by a mass of prayers and complaints, stennning from all the periods of ancient Mesopotamia's history, in which the religious anxieties of innumerable anonymous sufferers have been preserved. In the present chapter I wish to explore the particulars of this doctrine of individual retribution. The previous chapter has shown that infringements of the moral code were punished by the gods. But was every sort of calamity evaluated in the same way? If not, how was one to distinguish the definitely divine interventions from life's ordinary vicissitudes? Did the ancients believe in a systematic correspondence between specific offences and specific afflictions? These are questions that can only be answered through a study of the various thought schemes and hermeneutic models by which personal misfortune was interpreted. We shall have to examine the various records of individual retribution and try to make a list of the misfortunes that were attributed to the gods, in the hope of discovering a possible hierarchy of their religious significance. The enquiry, once again, must be based on a study of the extant written sources. Three categories of texts are of particular importance for our research, viz., (a) the literary accounts of the suffering individual in the wisdom texts; (b) the laments of the penitential prayers; and (c) the Mesopotamian medical texts. The latter type has not been discussed yet and needs a few words of introduction. It can be included among the "technical" or "scientific" texts. 13 It broadly divides into two groups: diagnostic and therapeutic texts. 14 The former group consists of entries having the characteristics of the omen literature; the protasis gives the patient's symptoms and the apodosis the diagnosis and/or aetiology, mostly followed by a prognosis.

Summa marqu uzun imittisu tarkat: mu!'Ussu kabitma ibalZu~ If the right ear of the patient is dark: his illness is serious, but he will recover. IS

57

When one sets out to study the texts in the hope of finding detailed accounts of personal suffering the outcome is somewhat disappointing, The search for the actual circumstances of individual adversity is thwarted by the stereotyped nature of the descriptions. Instead of a series of living creatures we meet with a symbol. Numerous experiences of evil have been artfully condensed into the figure of an emblematic sufferer, in which the particulars of individual misfortune do not find expression. This figure has absorbed the many fragmentary manifestations of misery; all possible aspects of human hardship are displayed in his life history. This anti-hero does not constitute an instantaneous literary creation; he represents a cultural product which existed independently of its literary framework. Experiences of misfortune of all kinds were mirrored in his symbolic figure. If it was possible, any adversity was perceived in relation to this mental image and endowed with the traditional characteristics. 21 The influence of this figure can be sensed from the correspondence of Rib-Adda, a Canaanite vassal of the Egyptian pharaoh, who imposes the pattern of the

emblematic sufferer on his reports to the extent that historical event and traditional stylization can no longer be disentangled. 22 Since we have no direct access to the prosaic realities of everyday suffering we must try to reach it by way of an analysis of the elements that constitute the exemplary career of the emblematic sufferer. The sapiential literature has drawn the most elaborate portrait of this figure; these texts are the first to demand our attention. From the time of Sumer onward, poems were written in which the problem of the theodicy was tackled in the light of the misfortunes of a "righteous sufferer".23 Although one hesitates to speak of a distinct literary category in connection with these compositions,2" there can be no doubt that they all reflect a traditional scheme and use conventional language. 25 There is a marked affinity between them and the so-called "literary prayers", products of some of the great minds of ancient Mesopotamia, which often deal with similar themes. 26 The protagonist of the theodicies is usually a wealthy man, often attached to the royal court. Through the slander and plottings of his colleagues he is made to vacate his post and is soon deprived of all his riches. Efforts to remedy the situation are in vain. On the contrary, his condition worsens. Illness and solitude afflict him, friends remain aloof or become foes. In spite of his prayers and supplications the gods remain silent or disturb him, sending horrible dreams and fearful omens. In the end, though, the sufferer is restored to his erstwhile glory by a divine intervention. That is the outline of the events, a life history which is grosso modo reflected also in the Book of Job. As the story progresses it becomes clear that the case is not simply one of bad luck but of divine punishment. Though unmerited, it is a case of individual retribution, with four aspects: the distress is physical, social, religious and emotional. (1) Physical sUffering. Although illness is not always explicitly mentioned, it is usually a central feature of the sufferer's fate. The poets, however, have not sought to describe a specific malady, but rather chosen to depict the physical decay in such a way as to include all possible ailments. In the Ludlul poem a host of evil spirits plagues the narrator with diseases. He is afflicted with headache, cramp, impotence, convulsions, fever, feebleness and paralysis. He does not rise from his bed, yet finds no relaxation, spending "the night in his dung like an ox and wallowing in his excrement like a sheep',.27 Other Babylonian compositions do not allow us to go beyond the general conclusion that the illness is painful, protracted and humiliating. 28 The prologue of the Book of Job informs the reader that the protagonist has been stricken with "evil sores" (~~tn ra') all over his body.29 The dialogues tell us that his flesh is clothed with worm and a scarf of dust (gts 'apar) , while his skin forms a crust (raga') and festers (wajjimma'es).30 His bones cleave (dabaq) to his skin and flesh, only the "skin of the teeth" has been left him. 31 The night racks (niqqar) his bones and his gnawing pains do not cease. 32 His bowels are in turmoil,33 his skin has turned black and his bones burn with fever. 3" These indications are too vague to en-

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The bulk of the material has been collected into the series SA. GIG, also called EnWna ana bit marsi asipu illiku ("when the ritual expert is on his way to the hous~ of the patient") after the opening line of the first tablet. 16 This handbook will be discussed in §7. A necessary complement to the diagnosis are the ~ndicat~ons for. the treatment. Partly organized into so-called maglco-medlcal serles, thus named because the therapies seem to us to contain many irrational elements, they give prescriptions for the healing c~remony, usually accompanied by a brief indication concerning the dlsease in some cases paraphrased by listing the main symptoms. The medical text in its fullest form contains four elements: (1) description of the symptoms; (2) diagnosis and/or aetiology; (3) therapy; and (4) prognosis. For example: (1) When the lower parts of a man's abdomen constantly hurt him,

blood runs continually in his mouth, (his belly) swells again and again, and he is constipated: (2) that man suffers from (an ailment of) the anus. (3) To cure him you char lion hide, you crush it, mix it with tallow make a suppository and put it into his anus, , 17 (4) and he will recover. Tablets containing directions for healing rituals have been excavated at several sites in Mesopotamia: Assur, Nineveh, Uruk, Sultantepe and Nippur are the bes~ known a~ong them.18.Some.exe~plars fr?m Boghazkoy, written in Akkadlan, testlfy to the dlssemlnatlon of thlS tradition,19 while the existence of Sumerian texts and Old Babylonian copies indicates its antiquity. 20 Al though the Old Testament has not preserved texts of this type, the historical narratives fill this gap to a certain extent. 2.

The Emblematic Sufferer

35 able us to decide from what disease Job was suffering. According to G. Fohrer the illness in the original legend was depicted as serious but curable, while the poet of the dialogues understood it as leprosy. 36 (2) Social adversity. Still more acute is the suffering in its social aspects. In £udlul and the Sumerian Job the king has grown angry with his unfortunate subject. 37 His fonner colleagues dishonour his reputation by slander and lies. 38 He is denied all exer, cise of power and has become l1ke a slave. 39 In h'1S surroun d'1ngs none dares to undertake his defence. To relatives and relations, comrades and companions, he has become a thing of horror. His slave can publicly curse him in the assembly.~o His fonner possessions are seized by others, just as his former offices are now fulfilled by strangers.~1 The Babylonian Theodicy does not talk about the inimical behaviour of former friends, but stresses the loneliness of the orphaned sufferer,~2 who is particularly worried by his impoverishment and the prosperity of the nouveau riche. ~3 When we turn to the Book of Job we read how God has made Job's company desolate.~~ He has become a laughing-stock to his friend,~5 who ridicule,~6 mock and provoke him.~7 The loneliness of the illfated sufferer is lengthily expounded in 19,13ff: He has removed my brothers from me, and those who know me have turned away from me. My comrades have disappeared and my acquaintances forget me. My inmates and maidservants consider me a stranger; I have become an alien in their eyes. I call my servant and he does not answer, I have to plead for his favour with my mouth. My breath repulses my wife, and I am loathsome to my very own sons.~8 Even young boys despise me. As soon as I get up they speak out against me. My intimate friends abhor me, and my beloved are estranged from me.

The divine anger is evidenced by confused omens, utterances portending ill and terrifying dreams. 55 Prayers go unanswered and the religious experts are bewildered by the symptoms of the sufferer's disease, unable to reach a satisfactory diagnosis. 56 The biblical Job complains that God bears animosity against him like a relentless enemy.57 Fear and dread are his 10t;58 they keep him awake turning and tossi~g until dawn. 59 Sleep brings no alleviation of hi~ misery because Saddaj affrights him with dreams and terrifies him with visions. 60 , (4) Mental discomfort. Everything concurs to lead the protag~n1st to a state of overwhelming grief, evoked by the narrators in ItS various manifestations. Sighs, lamentations and abundance of tears have disfigured the sufferer's appearance. 61 He moans like a dove t 62 groans l'1k e a cow 63 or b rays 1 1ke ' the weaned foal of a donkey. ~ Grain and beer have become distasteful 65 and the nights are , 66 ' spent 1n tears. In the version where the family does not yet treat him as an alien,67 his clan is bemoaning his misfortune before the god. 68 , The situation of Job is not less miserable. In his dejected mood h1s lyre has become a mourning song ('eb~l) and his flute makes a , d 69 weepIng soun. Instead of bread there are sighs and his groans are poured out like water. 70 Weeping has discoloured his face 71 and his eye has grown dim from distress. 72 Here too, the poet evokes the sounds of animals like the wild ass and the ox in a digressive simile which suggests Job's despair.73 The overall situation is often captured in a few traditional images. Instead of enumerating the entire stock I wish to draw special attention to two of the most conspicuous viz. imprisonment a~ d th e d escent to t h ~ underworld. 7~ Both convey " the totality of the mIsfortune, but partIcularly the loss of vigour. The former expresses the oppression experienced at the thought that pain and disease wall in the sufferer from all sides. 75 His house has become a 76 prison where his hands are fettered 17 and his feet put in the s ~ocks. 70 The sec,ond image, ,referred to in German as Hollenfahrt, pIctures the aff11cted as be1ng half-way through his journey to the 79 realm of the dead. At times it takes on the form of a description of the protagonist's sinking away into the clay.8o

He beseeches his friends to have pity om him because the hand of God has struck him,~9 but his appeal meets with hatred. People spit him in the face 50 , insult him and insolently strike his cheeks. 51 The general contempt is particularly painful when it comes from the younger generation, whose parents were despised by Job in the days of his former glory.52 Even if the references to former favours from the king are lacking in the Book of Job, due to a difference in social setting, the complaint is unquestionably uttered in the context of an upper class milieu. (3) Divine disapproval. The core and cause of the misery consists, of course, in the hostility of the gods. The departure of personal god and goddess marks the beginning of a concatenation of disas ters. 53 Their a loofness furnishes a Iso the sombre background against which the successive events are set. "How long will you neglect me, leave me unprotected?" complains the Sumerian Job. 5~

In 191~, when, V. S~heil"published a fragmentary penitential prayer, he entItled h1s art1cle Encore un Job babylonien".81 The future was to show that he had mistaken a dingirsadibba for another specimen of th e sa P le,nt "1 ' 1a t h eod1cy poems. 82 Unintentionally, though, his er1 roneous tIt e suggests the many similarities between the wisdom compositions studied above and the individual complaints of Babylonia and Israel. In the present section I wish to explore some of the paral,lel,s ,between the des~riptions of adversity in the prayers of the 1nd1V1dual and the mIsfortunes of the emblematic sufferer in wisdom literature. At the same time I shall pay some attention to

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3.

The Emblematic Sufferer in Prayers of the Individual and Diagnostic Texts

the more elaborate introductions to the therapeutic texts. The prayers studied for this survey have been selected on the grounds of their references to th~ sins of the sup~liant and/or t~e anger of his personal gods. Withln the Mesopotamlan psalter thlS criterion leads to the bilingual erBahungas, the dingirsadibbas, the Big11s and some of the general pra~er~, usu~l1y .cal1ed s~' ilas. Much could be said about these categorles; sufflce lt to pOlnt out that they are all pralers of the individual designed to reconcile the wrathful deities. 3 The case of the Bu'ila, however, is a difficult one and requiEes some comment. The name is derived from the Sumerian designation SUo lL.LA rendered in Akkadian by niB qat-i, lit., "raising of the hand": and refers to the common gesture accompanying any kind of prayer. BIt The meaning of "su'ila" is therefore "prayer", a pale term without a specific meaning. "The rubric with su' ila suggests that the prayers so marked are a non-category: that they do not belong to . l'lze d k'ln d s, "B 5 any of the spec la From the approximately seventy prayers labelled by their rubric as su' ila, ninety percent are "open" prayers, meaning that they can be used in different situations. Either their demands are very generally formulated, or they ask for a large variety of specified favours. Often they are directed against a more or less roughly specified evil: sin, witchcraft, divine anger or the li~e. The ~sual neutrality of these prayers could always be changed by lntroduclng a formula mentioning the name and describing the concrete needs of the suppliant. Such insertions offer valuable information for our enquiry. For the moment, however, we shall postpone their study and restrict ourselves to the fixed skeleton of the texts, which mostly consists of an anthology of standard phrases. This procedure wil1 enable us to get a clear view of the stereotyped character of the customary complaints, in which the image of the emblematic sufferer is reflected. On occasion I shall quote from the "li terary prayers", which occupy an intermediate position between the poems of the righteous sufferer and the penitential prayers in common use. The choice of Old Testament psalms reflects the same criteria as outlined above. Through the analysis of the cuI tic texts actual1y used I hope to verify my contention that the archetype of the sufferer which we first encountered in the wisdom texts exercised a profound influence on the perception and comprehension of actual distress. The miseries dwelt on in the prayers can be divided into (1) physical suffering; (2) social adversity; (3) divine disapproval; and (4) mental discomfort. Together they form a tightly interwoven pattern, unravelled here only to facilitate the comparison. (1) Physical suffering. In the Mesopotamian supplications il1ness is of relatively little importance. The ersahungas, dingirBadibbas and sig11s refer to it in rather general Wterms, the imprecision of which does not make it easy to distinguish it from psychological disturbance. The sufferer complains that he has become "like a sick" (marIJis) through the behaviour of the gods. B6 An ersahunga mentions afflictions of the lips, the "knees" and all of the patient's body, but the exact nature of the symptoms cannot be 62

B7 discovered. Headache BB , impotence B9, fever 90 and stiffness 91 do sometimes appear in the texts as symptoms of specific diseases, but their conjunction suggests a psychological source. These sparse indications hardly encourage attempts to identify clinical diseases. Therefore, when the broken individual speaks of his murIJu, that term is better rendered by "discomfort" than by "illness".92 In the general Bu'ilas the physical disorders described cover various ailments. "Tasmetu 1" mentions "the illness of my body" "the suffering of my flesh" and "the asakku disease of my sinews" 9; besides witchcraft, the miimitu and various ghosts.~" "Marduk seems to mention headache,95 flaccid knees 96 and fever 97 , but little can be made out of the damaged tablet. The actual patient who used these texts could select the symptoms that applied to his case. .What remained a subordinate feature in the Babylonian prayers of penltence became the most conspicuous component of the descriptions of distress in the biblical psalms of confession. Vividly depicted in cries for reconciliation, or retrospectively mentioned in hymns of t~an~s~iving~B illne~s is .advanced as the central misfortune of the. lndl~ldual. Yet ln splte of the many al1usions, the informatlon glven does not allow us to identify any specific disease as the immediate cause of these prayers. Even Psalm 38, which gives the sharpest outline of an actual illness, does not enable us to go any further than the observation that the penitent must have been suffering from an infectious disease with a development of fever that brought about a general lassitude, affected the condition of his skin and made him - temporarily? - lose his sight. A great number of ex~getes have maintained that leprosy was the sickness of the suppl1ant of Psalm 88, but the text does not exclude other possibilities. Instead of trying to make a list of ominous diseases it is therefore preferable to search for the common features of the complaints. Most of the descriptions group themselves around the theme of heat and aridity, and one seems justified in the assumption that these images allude primarily to feverish conditions. 99 Other symptoms. of internal disorder, like the "crushed" bones lOO that are "out . "I 0 I • o f JOlnt, may cover mental dlscomfort as wel1 as physical diseases. 102 B'd eSl es t h e " secret symptoms " there are also the outward signs of decay. The limbs can waste awayl03 to the point where there is no longer any healthy spot to be discovered. lolt When it is said that the bones (' ~IJem) c leave to the flesh 105 or tha t they can be counted,106 the sufferer depicts how he has become emaciated as a 107 The visible symptoms of the illness result of his disease. usually evidenced by the conditions of the skin, are a vital elemen~ for the evaluation. Another aspect is found in the duration of the disease. Discomforts reaching back to the youth (no'ar) of the sufferer,lOO having lasted for years or promising to do so,109 are more readily given an ominous significance than short-lived ailments. Finally one must consider the grimness of the disease. Normally the suppliant suffers the pangs of death. If the LORD had not cast Hezekiah's 110 sins behind his back the king's sickness would have been mortal. Also Psalm 51,13 records the plea of a sinner whose life is threatened.

31"

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Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take away from me your holy spirit. lll Similar fears are shadowed forth in other psalms and corroborate the conclusion that the diseases of the penitential prayers are always grim, foreboding death or a protracted infirmity. Like Job's mysterious affliction their attacks disfigure and stigmatize the patient. (2) Social adversity. The Babylonian prayers place great emphasis on the social and economic aspects of the misfortune. The . . , . I set b ac k , 112 " expenses, penltent lS sufferlng from a severe f'lnanCla losses privation and dimunition".113 Death has carried off his wife and hi's children 111t and even~ according to an Old Babylonian bilingual, his grandchildren. ll Friends and peers are angry with him and cause conflicts,11 9 putting the sufferer at enmity with "noble and prince". 117 Some prarers complain about "quarrels at home and bickering in the street", 18 indications of the increasing isolation to which the suppliant is subjected. The loneliness is experienced as a token of divine disapproval. 119 At the same time the sufferer endeavours to move his gods to compassion by an account of how he is generally shunned. I keep turning around, but nobody takes me by the hand. I cried - but nobody did draw near me. 120 I spoke complaints - but nobody heard me. Although human animosity is never advanced as an independent sign of God's wrath, the penitential psalms of the Old Testament indicate that the suffering of the suppliant, primarily physical in nature, is aggravated by social torment. The antagonists belong to the circle of family, friends and close society of the patient and react with hostility to his dejection. 12l Their cruelty is acutely felt as a breaking of the bonds of solidarity, in times of misfortune more vital than ever. I have become the scorn of all my oppressors, of my neighbours particularly; To my acquaintances an object of fear, when they see me in the street they flee from me. 122 In a sense, though, it is God who has pu t a dis tance be tween the . ' . He h as ma d e t h em desplse . h'lm 123 dlseased an dhlS acqualntances. since He is responsible for the source of the discord. 12 '+ (3) Divine disapproval. In the last resort it can all be reduced to the persistent anger of the gods. If the sufferer "has been bound to an evil fate from his youth onward" 12S it is because the gods have bent him down,126 made him sombre1~7. They make him experience their wrath and treat him "like a disobedient son" .128 The dignity of the sufferer has been taken away and his protective genius has forsaken him. 129 Bad omens 130 and fearful dreams 13l fill the suppliant with awe and confusion. In their malicious torpor the gods do 64

not heed the calls of the suppliant. 132 As in the account of Ludlul, the religious craftsmen are put to shame by the mysterious nature of their client's misfortune. The diviner did not enlighten him by means of divination; The dream interpreter could not reveal his fate by means of libanomancy; For his illness he cannot get relief with a bandage; The asipu is unable to relax him with an incantation. 133 The terror of the biblical psalmists at the divine origin of their troubles pervades their complaints. In retrospection one writer records his dismay when the LORD hid his face. 131t "How long (will you treat me this way)?" is the cry of the tortured sufferer to his God. 13S The bitterness of the conflict may give rise to bold statements, one of which depicts God as a warrior directing his (presumably poisonous) arrows towards the sinner. 136 The LORD makes transgressors feel his claim by laying his hand om them. 137 (4) Mental discomfort. The emotional distress produced by the divine reproval is expressed in great detail by Mesopotamians as well as Israeli tes. Feelings of anxiety, sorrow, depression, confusion and anguish are depicted in such a fashion that the maximum dramatic effect is gained. Among the signs of desolation one finds the loss of appetite,13 Q insomnia,139 headache,llto and languor. lltl A few literary topoi are, some quite frequently, referred to. Thus the mourning of the s~ppliant is likened to the cooing of a dove,l .. 1 the mowing of a COW,1 .. 3 the rustling of a reed-thicket l .... or the plaintive sounds of a swallow l " S or a lonely bird on a roof .1 .. 6 According to another figure of speech, the daily bread of the sufferer consists of grief and sorrow; instead of food there are tears • moans and ashes. 1117 If those around hlm have not yet turned away' from the haunted penitent they join in his bitter lamentations. l " 8 A few conventional images condense the disparate elements of the various situations. The sufferer is said to sink away into the slough~ to have slipped into the mire where is no secure foothold. l 9 He is "like one who goes down in the marshes" (kima arid appari), or, as the Psalms put it, like one of "those descending the pit" (jorede bor).lSO The morass referred to is in fact the underworld, the miry character of which was a commonly accepted feaure in the ancient Near East. 1Sl A related image likens the penitent to a steerless boat adrift in deep waters, a topos harking back to a Sumerian prototype. 1S2 Traditional, too, is the symbol of imprisonment. "My house has become a house of weeping, my god, I am . " lS 3 Th e sufferer wonders how long he wlll . lts . prlsoner •.•• be kept in a bed that is filled with laments. 1S " The Mesopotamian prayers contain also comparisons that are less stereotyped. The sinner is like a solitary reed, held down by the wind and bruised by adversities. 1SS Slightly unfamiliar is the comparison with the ox lying in its dung, or the sheep dirtied with its own excrement,IS6 although the image is also used in Ludlul. IS7 Another metaphor taken from the animal kingdom depicts the unfortunate suppliant as a bird with its pinions cut off and its wings torn and thus unable to fly. ISO 65

The comparison of the penitential prayers with the sapiential speculations about the theodicy reveals a common pattern. The poetization of experiences of downfall and misfortune which created the figure of an emblematic sufferer was not solely an artistic device to facilitate a comprehensive discussion of a theological problem, but also served the practical purpose of representing human needs to the gods. It has been said that this archetypal model of human suffering affected the actual apperception of adversity. The study of the prayers already points to the likelihood of this conclusion, but even more convincing evidence for it is to be found in another category of texts, this time of a definitely technical nature. The often lengthy diagnostic introductions to the therapeutic texts, enumerating the symptoms of the patient, lack the poetry of the laments and may therefore seem to be more "scientific". They too, though, analyse the situation according to the categories established by the wisdom compositions. The following translation of a sample text exemplifies their characteristic procedure.

When we strike a provisional balance we must conclude that between the massive ruin projected onto the emblematic sufferer (and reflected, also, in the prayers) and the actual experiences of adversity there remains a gap. The former cliche reveals a frame of mind, but largely conceals the value and significance of the single event. It cannot still our curiosity for the interpretation of the individual misfortune, the specif ic ins tance of illness, the isolated infertility of an otherwise successful woman, and it is precisely those details of the hermeneutic model that we are interested in. Normally disaster comes in piecemeal fashion and requires a differentiated approach. We shall therefore have to pursue our interrogation on a different level, leaving behind the literary model of human suffering which, for all the information it offers about the fundamental assumptions of ancient Near Eastern man, denies us full access to the critical appraisal of individual misfortune. 4.

If a man is constantly frightened and worries day and night; losses are regular to him and profit is cut off; people speak defamations about him; his interlocutor does not speak reliable things, an accusing finger is pointed at him; in the palace where he appears (var. in his palace) he is not well received; his dreams are confused; in his dreams he keeps seeing dead people; heartbreak is laid upon him; the omen (var. decision) of god and goddess is upon him; god (var. his god) and goddess are angry with him; his case cannot be cleared by diviner nor dream interpreter; sorcery has been practised against him; he has been cursed before god and goddess; god and goddess .•• 1S9

General Considerations on Illness

The approach I shall take in the subsequent sections is not directed at the overall complex of human suffering, but at its various constitutive elements. They can roughly be distinguished as illness, social position and religious situation. Of these three, illness stands out as the traditionally most unambiguous indicator of sin. It will be the purpose of the following pages to assess the accuracy of that view and to add the necessary restrictions and refinements. In a letter to Esarhaddon the Assyrian scholar I~tar-~umu-ere~ writes: The king, my lord, should not worry about this illness: it is a disease of the season, all the people who have been sick (with it) have got well. Moreover, the king, my lord, who is a godfearing man and prays to the gods day and night - could anything possibly happen to the king, my lord, and his seed?161

With the exception of physical distress the calamity which is described by this text covers all the areas we came across in the wisdom compositions and the prayers. It is the picture of a complete collapse which can hardly be taken for an unembroidered record of an actual "case". Yet, like the prayers, it was currently used as a means to interpret the small and the great catastrophes of everyday life. How, then, are we to conceive of the actual use of such texts? It must probably be assumed that the ancient Mesopotamians appropriated these texts when they reflected one or more aspects of their misfortune. An Israelite parallel to this eclectic use of "canonical" texts is found in the prayer of Hannah, selected by the biblical writer for its reference to the prodigious fertility of the "l.ntro d ' b arren Wl.'f e. 160 D'l.agnostl.c uctl.ons and prayers alike can be compared to a house with many mansions in which the god-forsaken sufferer could lodge his misery, even if his actual misfortune were of minor importance in comparison with those exemplified in the texts. The actual distress was grafted onto a traditional model and thus incorporated into a meaningful framework.

This report reveals in two phrases both the custom of interpreting disease as a sanction, and the complications of that interpretation. Esarhaddon's ailment was due to seasonal influences, which were apparently recognized as an independent source of illness. This instance shows that the ancients did not treat all diseases alike; they distinguished between "ominous" and "innocent" diseases, even if this distinction occasionally caused some confusion. We must therefore try to be rather precise about the diagnostic function they attributed to physical disorders. Before we can go into the details of this differentiated approach, however, a few preliminary questions concerning disease must be dealt with. Anyone studying the phenomenon of illness faces the problem of definition. In the broadest sense of the term it comprises all deviations from an ideal of individual fulfilment, the physiognomy of which is to a large extent culturally determined. For Mesopotamia the figure of Adad-Guppi, the mother of Nabonidus, blessed with children, a robust vitality and a long life, can be considered the

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embodiment of this ideal. 162 The Israelites likened the physically vigorous man to a tree "planted by streams of water, yielding its fruit in its season, of which the leaf does not wither."163 In these pictures, physical fitness and psychological health are so neatly interlaced that it becomes difficult to disentangle them, also in the diagnosis of disease. We must be cautious, however, not to press this observation to the point where almost every symptom is referred to psychical factors. Some authors, under the influence of a modern reaction against the atomistic approach to illness, tend to , 1 d'Isor d er. 16~ exaggerate the mental component of phYSICa Although it is true that in the Old Testament emotional experiences of different kinds are often indicated by the specific reactions of parts or organs of the human body (10vesicknessl),165 several texts show that the Israelites were keenly aware of the differences between physical and emotional suffering. 166 For the sake of clarity it is wise to concentrate the discussion on the physically identifiable illnesses, acknowledging at the same time that they are often psychosomatic in nature. Unfortunately we are often unable to reach certainty about the diseases referred to, especially in the Babylonian texts. The vocabulary is to a great extent still enigmatic, tablets have frequently been damaged and in many cases we are given irrelevant information. 167 In a study on illness in the Old Testament P. Humbert gives a similar verdict on the Israelite material, saying that "the descriptions of illness are generally too vague to warrant objective identification."168 Yet it cannot be asserted that the ancients only had a symptomatology and not a nosology. It must rather 'be stressed that their diagnosis of illnesses was based on assumptions fundamentally different from ours. What they considered one and the same disease can be analysed by us as superficially similar manifestations of several clinically distinct diseases. It is possible, of course, to discard their pathology and to interpret the symptoms according to the criteria of today's medical knowledge. 169 Such an approach may be interesting for an historian of medicine, but it does not further our understanding of the Mesopotamian's perception of physical disorder. Since it is their vision we want to recover, we shall confine the attempts to establish correspondences between ancient designations and modern definitions to the margin of our study. Modern medicine distinguishes between congenital abnormalities, infections, cancers and traumata. The ancients considered most ailments to belong to the latter catego~y. The medical terminology of the Akkadian texts includes terms like 'labatu, "to seize", maJji'lu, "to strike, to smite", lapatu, "to touch", etcetera, used to describe what has happened to the patient. Such a vocabulary suggests that diseases were understood by analogy with injuries received in battle, fights or accidentally at the hands of a fellow human being, the blows being administered this time by supernatural agents. This conception, according to which physical disorders are inflicted from outside, is shared by the Old Testament. 170 Illnesses like jaundice could also be caused by other external factors like imtu and martu, the poisonous saliva dripping from the mouths of angry gods and

demons. 171 An Old Babylonian incantation against diseases relates that the ailments descended "from the vault of heaven" like acid rain. 172 One could also be blown into by the "evil wind" (sar le= muttim) 173 or the "wind of the desert", 17'1 or be struck by sun or moon. 175 This view of illness as an intruder may have favoured the " use of emetics, also in cases where there was no d Igestlve upset. 176 Since, seen from the perspective of Israelites an~ ~eso~o­ tamians, all illnesses have an external cause, the dlstlnctl0n between natural and supernatural diseases is somewhat unclear. But instead of contending that all notion of natural causes was alien to the ancient Near East,177 it is preferable to admit that t~e oPPhosition natural/supernatural introduces a foreign element Into t e discussion which tends to mar the picture. From a Mesopotamian viewpoint a demonic intervention and a snake bite are both, in the same way, logical explanations; in both cases amulets could be used to ward off the danger. 178 To call the former supernatural and the latter natural without a precise definition of the value of such , , h qualifications in this connection, would be incorrect. Stlll t e distinction cannot simply be dismissed. It is faintly echoed by the allocation of tasks between the asu (the craftsman) and the asipu (the "clergyman"), or their Israelite counterparts the rope' and the nabt' .179 The former of these two specialized in the "empirical" treatment, using herbs and bandages and occasionally the scalp:l, while the second sought to exorcise the primary causes of the dlSorder. 180 Even if the asu could also use incantations,181 the nabt' sometimes applied a traditional medication,182 and even though in the body of therapeutic texts asiputu and asutu have converged and mingled, the differences in their field of action subsists. Ha~ing a mind formed by our contemporary culture, we can hardly concelve of this difference otherwise than as an opposition between natural and supernatural; let us therefore define the meaning of those terms in the present context. We shall continue to use them on the understanding that "natural" refers to causes that can be perceived by the senses, while "supernatural" refers to causes hidden from direct sensorial perception. Needless to say, in view of the previous remarks, "supernatural" does not connote any degree of unreality, any more than does "natural". Both Mesopotamians and Israelites recognized various natural , ' , 183 ,1n 'd Iges ' t'10n 18 It ,an d 0 Id causes of dlsease. Cold, foo d-polsonlng age 185 are autonomous factors that can cause great physical prob, , , dd ' lems. InJurles could of course also be recelve urlng a f'Ig h t, 186 possibly caused by man-made weapons. 187 Exposure to the sun could lead to muru'l {Jeti, a sunstroke. 188 The insistence on the fatal effects of "bad water" is a particularly interesting feature. A Babylonian extispicy text gives the apodosis, apparently spoken by a king: "My army will be overcome by thirst on a campaign it will go on will drink bad water and will die".189 In Israel the men of , , h Jericho complained to Elisha about the region's bad water WhlC 190 caused miscarriages. The asipu's diagnostic handbook teaches that fever in the abdomen and the bowels, accompanied by convulsions ~f the body and verti~o, can result~from drinking water from the GIS. BAL of the canal. 19 Normally GIS.BAL refers to a pilakku, "a

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spindle",192 but in the present context it is more likely that some sort of conduit is intended. The diagnosis could then be compared with the rabbinical warning against sipping at a sillon, a "tube" or a "conduit", for fear of the 'alqiih, "the leech", that could cause serious intes tinal trouble. 193 The Arabs, too, regarded infect ion resulting from the drinking of polluted water as an important cause of disease. 191t In the light of the noxious effects of "bad water", the self-designation of the LORD as Israel's rope', "healer", has a special significance after the experience of the "bitter water" of Marah. 195 It seems that the ancients were also familiar with the notion of contagion, although the question is still debated. A Mari letter speaks of an illness that "spreads"l96 and for which seclusion measures must be taken. Possibly, though, the directives are based on a fear of impurity. The conviction that vermin could spread certain diseases is positively attested to. The Mesopotamians knew the ereb gariibi, "locus t of scab", a transmi t ter of epidemic diseases affecting cattle. 197 According to the Septuagint the plague of the Philistines was a pest epidemic brought by rats, 198 circumstances that are also advanced by Herodotus as an explanation of the sudden departure of Sennacherib's army.199 Although the distinction between natural and supernatural diseases can be useful to some extent, a consequent opposition must be rejected. A "natural" illness ultimately has a "supernatural" cause, a causa remota looming behind the causae proximae. The Codex Hammurapi speaks in its epilogue of wounds treated in vain by th; asa, because they have been sent as a punishment by Ninkarrak ('" Guta) .200 Even if the Jerusalem Talmud, when teaching that a snake on1 bites a man because a command from Heaven compels it to do SO,2 61 testifies to a more rigid determinism than does the Old Testament, it develops a theme familiar to the ancient Israelites. Yet the causes of "natural" diseases retain a certain independence and can only secondarily be considered as part of a larger concatenation of "supernatural" cause and effect. When dealing with the Babylonian material it may be useful to distinguish between diseases that are willed by the gods, and others that are more or less illegal intruders. The latter are particularly combated with the help of aetiological incantations. The ailments with a directly "supernatural" cause do not exclusively originate from the gods, since demons and witches also operate in this field. With regard to Mesopotamia, we must distinguish between the illegitimate demons like Lama~tu, who attacked pregnant women and small babies against the will of her father Anu,202 and the subordinate demons who could attack of their own will, but who were often sent by the gods for the execution of their judgments. To the latter category belong also the efemmU, the spirits of the deceased, who could harass the living with illnesses to remind them of their duties towards the gods. 203 In that capacity they perform the role dictated by their hierarchical position. Although in Israel illness-demons were recognized on a popular level,201t they do not appear as distinct entities in the Old Testament. There are sparse allusions to vaguely demonic beings like 70

~

the mas~tt, deber, qefeb, resep or the daemonium meridianum of Psalm 91,205 but nowhere have they developed a distinctive character. Moreover, we have to take into account the poetic nature of many texts, which makes it difficult to judge where the imagery reflects actual beliefs and where it is used as an artistic device. Unlike in Jewish tradition, in which various demons were acknowledged,20G the Old Testament has stripped the spirits of their effective power and turned them into more or less reluctant servants of the LORD. 207 The religion of Babylonia formally reckoned with the malignant influence of sorcerers, who could inflict diseases with devious and, to modern eyes, supernatural skil1. 208 Their human design did not automatically coincide with a divine decree, but the angered gods might allow them a freedom of action on purpose. Conversely, the mood of the deities could also be influenced by the witches. 209 When a prayer asking for reconciliation enumerates paralysed calves, knees and feet, roaring and singing in the ears, aching shoulder blades, fits of fear and self-directed mutterings as symptoms of the sufferer, the reference to witchcraft indicates that these afflictions can only secondarily be attributed to the influence of the gods. 210 Since Mowinckel there have been recurrent attempts to identify the enemies of the psalmists as sorcerers. 211 However, N.H. Ridderbos' criticism of these views must be considered final; the biblical tradition gives no credit to witchcraft as a source of disease. 212 The sufferers of the Psalms are not confused by a mUltiplicity of supernatural agents. At the core of their crisis it is God who awaits them. In discussing the Mesopotamian views of illness one must be sensitive to the distinction between the synchronistic and the diachronistic level. Besides the theological interpretation of disease one comes across mythological aetiologies. Thus toothache is "explained" by the tale of the worm that asked Ea to cause it to dwell among the gums in order to suck the blood of the teeth. 213 Such ancient mythologies have only survived in fragments, represented by a few Old Babylonian non-canonical incantations 211t and some smaller pieces~ secondarily incorporated into the body of therapeutic texts. 15 They reflect a point of view that has been supplanted in importance by the synchronistic approach, in which it matters above all to discover the actual causes of the various ailments. Within the framework of the present enquiry we shall focus our attention exclusively on the latter. Finally I must make a few remarks about the notion of accident or chance, probably the most popular explanation of misfortune of our time. It would seem that the concept of fortune or chance (Greek tyche, to be distinguished from moira "allotted portion" = Akkadian simtu and Hebrew ~eleq) is not genuinely Semitic but Greek. 21G When the Baby10nians wanted to emphasize the fortuitousness of the loss of a bull, they said that "a god" had stricken the animal. 217 Likewise the Israelites said that "God caused" an accidental and fatal action "to come to the hand" of the perpetrator, who was thus exonerated from malicious intentions. 218 One could raise the objection that the Old Testament sometimes uses miqreh in a sense closely 71

Leprosy, moles, pustules, dropsy and eczema are possibly to be understood as the various manifestations of "the punishment of the god" (NIR.DA DINGIR), although the latter term may equally refer to

a specific skin disease. 222 These visible and obvious departures from the normal singled one out from the common lot and designated one as the object of divine wrath. Skin diseases seem to have been relatively prevalent in ancient times;223 a host of names attest to the differentiation necessitated by the large number of diseases.22~ The fears of the ancients focused on the worst of them all: Akkadian saharsubbl1 or Hebrew lJara= 'at, traditonally understood as leprosy.225 So intense was the dread of it that its name was often replaced by expressions such as "the great punishment" (sel'tum l'abitum, al'num kabtwn) or "the great curse" (el'l'etum l'abitum).226 Recent studies have almost unanimously denied the identification of this ancient illness with clinical h b sence 0 f ' , , posltlve palaeo-osteologlcal proof of the 1 eprosy; 227 tea existence of true leprosy makes its presence in ancient times highly questionable. 228 We must rid ourselves of the fixation on a single scientifically proven disease, since the terms sahal'subbl1 and lJara= u 'at cover in fact several diseases all of which manifested themselves in unpleasant, often scaly, skin conditions. 229 It was believed to be incurable and to present a danger to the community. Although it is medically speaking incorrect, I shall retain the term "leprosy" in the translation, since "there is no convenient simple word in English, nor a simple phrase that is scientifically correct ' ,,230 Th e tra d"ltlonal renderlng " an d eup h onlOUS . stlll captures the spirit of the ancient designations with all their ominous overtones, especially to ears accustomed to biblical language. Conspicuousness and incurability characterized the disease. The former trait is obvious, the latter can be inferred from the absence of all therapeutic texts against Sahal'BUbbu. 231 Lists of curses emphasize the specific character of "uleprosy" by qualifications like ~ '" lncura bl e, " 232 an d t h e In "d"lcatlon that It '" stlgmatlzes the l a t ebu, sinner "as long as he lives".233 According to several texts recoveries did occur, but these were not brought about by medication.23~ The ominous aura that hovered around "leprosy" led to two things: the sufferer was considered impure and was excommunicated, or, in the words of an Old Bab~lonian omen: "that man has been rejected by his god and by mankind". 35 Leprosy was felt to be a punishment from God or the gods more particularly than other ailments, necessitatin~ the banishment of the afflicted from the palace and the temple. 23 Other diseased were often nursed by the family at home; 237 lepers aroused such repugnance that they were ostracized by society and were often reduced to a life in colonies in the neighbourhood of a ~ecropolis. B~th aspects of sa~ar8ubbu and lJara'at will be developed In the followlng paragraphs. Sa~a1'8ubbu is one of the maledictions customarill invoked upon transgressors and trespassers in various contexts. 23 It is usually attributed to the moon god Sin, possibly because of the ensuing whiteness of the skin. Curses threaten that the god will "cover" (lubbuBU~ ~ullupu) the body of the sinner wi th leprosy "like a cloak".2 9 It was considered one of the most unambiguous sanctions of sin, which explains why a lexical series places it in the immediate neighbourhood of "dropsy" (etillU) and "punishment" (al'nu) .2~0 The biblical testimony concerning lJal'a'at points to a similar

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akin to the Greek tyche, but the evidence is hardly satisfactory. Behind the frequent reference to rniqreh by Qoheleth one suspects Greek influence,219 and its use in the impersonal sense of for tuna by the Philistines in I Sam. 6,9 may well betray their Aegean background. 22o The world-view of the Mesopotamian scholars and the biblical writers did not leave room for a purposeless fate. One may, probably correctly, surmise that minor ailments were not credited with the same religious significance as the long-suffered illnesses, but the texts do not allow us to speak of chance as the "cause" of these incidents. To summarise: on account of the world-view of causality illness could not be interpreted as a purely fortuitous event; yet it was by no means automatically considered a sign of divine reproval. Nature was an objective reality, invested with powers that could have a detrimental effect on human health. Man himself was subject to the contingencies of all living creatures, unable to escape their common fate: weakness and decay, culminating in death. Only the extraordinary was directly reduced to the "supernatural", and even then sorcerers and spirits disputed the authorship of the gods. Thus the diseases that were explained as indubitable sanctions are few. Such punishments deserve to be treated in some detail.

5.

Leprosy

The sheer impossibility of drawing up a complete list of divinely contrived diseases compels us to elect a different course. Almost all the salient features that made for the religious significance of a disease are present in a few strikingly ominous illnesses. When their study is supplemented by an analysis of the principles implied in the diagnosis we may hope to get a grasp of this province of ancient speculation. Among the afflictions that filled the ancients with spontaneous disgust, skin diseases seem to outstrip all the others. Their generally ominous quality can be inferred from the following lines: - If in a man's house there is someone full of "the punishment

of the god": dilapidation [of the house] - If in a man's house there is someone full of dilapidation [of the house] - If in a man's house there is someone full of dilapidation [of the house] - If in a man's house there is someone full of dilapidation [of the house] - If in a man's house there is someone full of dilapidation [of the house] - If in a man's house there is someone full of mourn[ing].221

leprosy: moles: pustules: dropsy: eczema:

evaluation. Leprosy and flux are the only diseases mentioned in David's curse against the house of Joab, presumably because . . . , they 2~1 were considered the most eloquent proof of d l.Vl.ne reJectl.on. Three historical instances illustrate the numinous aura of leprosy. Numbers 12 records how Miriam challenges the spiritual authority of Moses and proclaims her own prophetic leadership; this revolt against His servant is taken by the LORD as a personal insult. His afflicting Miriam with leprosy is likened to a father spitting on . d . . 2~ 2 his daughter's face, a sl.gn of contempt an reJectl.on. The second case concerns Gehazi who, after Naaman's miraculous recovery through a seven times repeated immersion into the river Jordan, asked the healed leper for a payment.2~3 His behaviour is punished with leprosy. The severity of the judgment makes it unacceptable to hold that Elisha' s servant was simply punished for his greed. Gehazi had failed to acknowledge the religious issue of the healing; it was a battle of competence between the God of Israel and Rimmon, the god of Damascus. With his request Gehazi dragged the religious triumph down to the level of a manifestation of mere human expertise. The ensuing sanction brings about a reversal of the positions. Naaman the Damascene returns home with a clod of holy earth as a token of his portion of Israel's inheritance, while the Israelite Gehazi takes over Naaman' s disease and is thus removed from the LORD's presence.2~~ The third victim offers the clearest illustration of the sacral character of the committed sin. When the Judean king Uzziah has grown proud he enters the temple to burn incense on the al tar, a privilege reserved to the priest. The Almighty promptly reacts by smiting the king with leprosy on his forehead, stigmatizing him as unclean. Without delay the leprous king is thrust out of the temple to prevent greater calamities from happening. For the rest of his life Uzziah lives in isolation in "a house apart" and is "cut off from the House of the LORD".2~5 In all three cases leprosy is the sanction of a sin that directly attacked the Most Holy Himself or His appointed servants. The illness is not only unpleasant in social intercourse, but especially feared because it blocks off the path to "the courts of the LORD". The impurity of the disease, set forth by the biblical stories, is explicitly referred to with the vocabulary of defilement in Lev. 13-14 and some of the Akkadian texts.2~6 The excommunication that followed the outbreak of the disease was actuated by the horror and the religious stigma attached to it. A legal deed from Nuzi contains a vivid record of the social reaction to the leper. According to the wording of the document one Akkulinni claimed that Aqawatil was afflicted with the disease, saying, "You are full of leprosy (epqu) , do not come near me with your prickl"2~7 The context makes it clear that both parties are men; thus the reference is not to the interruption of marital relations, but to the distance to be kept in social intercourse. In its crude choice of words the phrase shows itself to be the expression of a violent emotion. Various texts suggest that the disfigured sufferers were held in colonies, sometimes located in special camps or prisons. 2 ~ 8 At any rate the leper was forced to

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leave his own house2~9 and to "roam the desert like the wild-ass (and) the gazelle".250 Since he was forbidden to "tread the square of his city,,251 he and his companions in misfortune flocked together at the outskirts of human habitations or dwelled alone "outside the camp".252 The story of king Uzziah relates how he was confined to a bet ha~opiHt (K: ha~opsut), apparently a "separated house" according to the versions,2 3 similar to the bitwn par'swn, "isolated house", in which the Babylonian sufferer could be made to dwell. :l~" In the epilogue to the Codex l;!ammuropi the disastrous consequences of the "curse of Sin" are illustrated by the example of a king. Leprosy will rob him of his 'crown and throne; he will end his reign in sighs and tears and his life will become "similar to death".255 As far as social intercourse was concerned one was indeed counted as dead. In Old Babylonian attendance lists one sometimes comes across the indication SAHAR.SUB.BA preceding the name of an individual, besides the more frequent references to someone's being lost or dead. 256 In each instance the person involved was no longer included in the count. Accordinp, to rabbinical teaching leprosy sufficed to dissolve a marriage,25 which amounted to a social death certificate for the party concerned. The consequences of the "great punishment" were clearly disastrous for the afflicted party; yet it cannot be said that those suffering from skin ailments of another category were always better off. The omen text quoted in the introduction to this section mentioned moles, pustules and eczema as ominous features besides "leprosy". Other Akkadian texts confirm that these various forms of deterioration in the texture of the skin were indeed thought to be signs of divine displeasure. 258 Since the bulk of the textual evidence focuses on sa~ar'subbu, it is reasonable to suppose that the case of the latter came to be used as a paradigm for the evaluation of analogous diseases. The same holds true for the biblical ~ar'a'at dealt with in Leviticus 13-14. Besides the leper, persons afflicted with other serious ailments were presumably submitted to similar procedures of examination, quarantine and purification. The case of "leprosy", then, provides a clue for the interpretation of all "diseases of abomination" which conspicuously transmuted the sufferer into an object of repugnance and disgust.

6.

Dropsy, Flux and Related Ailments

A few named other diseases were endowed by the ancients with a significance comparable to that of "leprosy". Among these we find aqa= nutiUu (or etiUu) , "dropsy", called "the grievous punishment". 59 Like "leprosy" it was considered incurable. No treatments for it are ever found in the medical texts 260 and kudur'rus (boundary stones) call it "the bond that cannot be dissolved".261 The name, a loan from the Sumerian, is explained by commentary texts as "he who is full of water".262 An entry of the omen series SWT1lTla izbu, combined with a later commentary text, suggests that its most conspicuous

75

feature was an abnormally swollen body.263 We encounter the name of the disease often in the neighbourhood of sahapsubbu,264 which confirms its ominous character. Its being a manIfestation of the judgment of the gods over human sin is evidenced by the texts that , . "Wlt . h " one f u 11 0 f water, " 265 or equate " one who . lS gUllty 0 f a Sln mention it in one breath with "punishment" (apnu). 266 A casual phrase in the hemerological series Iqqup ipus throws an unexpected light on one of the consequences of the tabooed disease, since it alludes to the custom of not burying one who is taken ill with dropsy.267 The biblical evidence about this illness is scanty, though the woman whose bowels swell after the consumption of the water of the curse (Num. 5) may be a case of dropsy.268 Talmudic Judaism saw in dropsy (hidpaqon) a sure sign of sin. 269 Against the background sketched above Jesus' healing of the man who had dropsy (Luke 14,1-4) takes on a deeper significance than a first reading would suggest. "Leprosy" and dropsy share the common feature of conspicuousness. The same cannot be said of flux, the ailment I propose to disc'Uss next. David' s curse on the house of Joab mentions the zab besides the leper 270 ; we naturally assume that both were similarlr 27 regarded. The identification of zob is still a subject of debate. In spite of the Septuagint rendering gonnoppyes, a venereal disease in the clinical sense can hardly be intended, since there is 272 no evidence that this existed anywhere in the ancient Near East. J.V. Kinnier Wilson has proposed that it be understood as a reference to infectious urinary bilharzia, suggesting a parallel with the Akkadian mUqU. 273 The elliptical nature of the biblical description allows us neither to prove nor to disprove his views. We must be content with the vague indication of a morbid venereal discharge, branded as a defilement by Leviticus 15. In women the fear of irregularity in the hidden processes of the body focused on an abnormal flow of blood. 274 We know from Akkadian diagnostic texts that both ailments were charged with a connotation of defilement and divine retribution in Mesopotamia also. 275 Human sexuality was an area of high tension and any deviations from normality were a source of religious anxiety. Historical instances of individuals plagued by these ailments tend to escape attention; the disease could be easily veiled from the eyes of the outer world. One may suspect a case of zob in the account of king Asa' s disease, 276 if the "lers" are indeed to be understood as a euphemism for the genitals. 27 If this interpretation is correct the Chronicler's criticism of the king's consult278 ing the physicians instead of the LORD acquires another dimension. An illness so intricately linked with impurity was a God-sent signal; to take counsel from secular healers would amount to a neglect of a divine intimation. The religious connotations are manifest too in Mark's account of the woman with a haemorrhage who had "much suffered a t the hands of many doc tors" .279 Here once more the sk i 11 of earthly physicians is contrasted with the divine salvation, echoing a theme marginally present in the Old Testament and elaborated by the Jewish tradition. 28o The secrecy of the disease did not diminish its ominous value. The sufferer discovered the signs of divine anger in his own flesh. 76

7.

The Diagnostic Texts

Study of the textual evidence induces us to recognize the special status of leprosy, dropsy and flux as typically god-sent diseases. Later in this chapter we shall be able to add other ailments to the list; presently, though, a digression on the diagnostic texts must be inserted to help us elucidate the relationship between sin and sanction. Designed as a tool for the religious specialist, the texts in question attempt to diagnose the symptoms of the sufferer and to prognosticate his future. Although their structure is similar to that of the omen texts, they have been organized into an independent series by virtue of their principal object of observation, viz., the human patient. The name of the series SA.GIG 281 is explained in a later commentary text as "sum of diseases",282 - but the rendering "symptoms" is probably more correct. 283 How are we to regard this diagnostic series? Since SA.GIG represents a late stage in a tradition that was cumulative of the science of many generations, one could be tempted to minimize its claims to logical coherence and view it as a systematization of data gathered by experience. Yet several Old Babylonian diagnostic tablets, containing the main characteristics of the canonized handbook, contradict this assumption. 284 The material consists in fact of speCUlation following a logic of its own. We are given an insight into the sophisticated reasonings of these texts by a number of commentaries. Although the latter inform us primarily of the way in which later generations understood the diagnostic series, they reach back to ancient traditions and may therefore well reveal some of the ideas and associations that formed the otherwise invisible links between protasis and apodosis. 285 Originally handed down in oral tradition (hence the name But pt), they have been consigned to writing as lJr1tu, "excerpted words" and maB'altu, "interrogation" (cf. midpas). A study of these texts points to the overriding importance of the heuristic principles of etymology, alliteration and literary association. The ancients were particularly fond of etymologies and very sensitive to alliteration; J. Bottero has demonstrated that both played a key role in their theological thinking. 286 Apart from associations evoked by the "acoustic image", the scholars had recourse to literary associations in order to enhance the authority of their explanations. The body of canonical texts from which the quotations were drawn was considered as an absolute and timeless entity, and therefore contemporary with each situation and moment in time. 28 7 The entire approach is strongly remlnlscent of rabbinical hermeneutics. 288 Studying the diagnostic texts one also notices other procedures, including the codification of colours, sides and numbers. 289 Sometimes a correspondence between the bodily region of the symptoms and the province of a specific deity can be observed. Symptoms affecting the genital region are thus frequently connected with the goddess IS tar. 290 Several ins tances of such "logical" connec tions wi 11 be discussed below. When we are dealing with the series SA. GIG, we must be aware that in case of illness the Mesopotamians called on other sources of 77

-

o 291 , 11ob anomancy 292 , ausp1Clum 293 , well. Ext1SP1Cy aleuromancy29~, astrology295, and oneiromancy296 could also be performed to illuminate the conditions of the sufferer. The first two tablets of the SA.GIG collection are consecrated to the signs observed by the aifipu, the ritual expert, when he is still on ~is way to the patient. This opening section shows that it would be Incorrect to stress the "medical" character of the series too exclusively. The situation of the patient is established by an analysis of as many signs as can be detected, in the body of the patient as well as in the surrounding universe. Although the technique and the material of the iiifipu differed from the diviner's (baro), their logic and method of exegesis were fundamentally similar. Many apodoses of the diagnostic vade-mecum interpret the observable symptoms as signs of the "hand" of a god, named or unnamed. Often nothing is mentioned about the action of this "hand", but o ,,298 sometlmes lt lS sald to rest upon , 297 to h ave sml tt en, "touched",299 or "reached,,300 the victim. Apart from being divine, the hand can also belong to ghosts, spirits, demons, or numinously invested places such as the sanctuary.301 It is tempting to interpret the construction qat DN, "hand of DN", as "the disease of DN", on the understanding that it expresses at the same time the idea of punishment. 302 Several reasons, though, discourage us from adopting this view. The narrow medical sense does not fit in with the many qat DN ~odoses in the great bulk of nonmedical omen literature, such as Summa alu. 303 Secondly, it will be observed that different entries enumerating rather divergent symptoms mention one and the same hand in the apodosis. The qat DN constructions, then, intend to localize the source of the signs rather than to give a definite answer concerning the nature and cause of the disease.30~ Other interventions, e.g., on the part of the diviner and dream interpreter, could be solicited to discover the reasons behind the illness. The procedure hypothetically reconstructed above is illustrated by several Old Assyrian and Old Babylonian letters. In a message of Aqba-hammu, the ruler of Rimah, to his wife Iltani, reference is made to a loun g man upon whom '1'the hand of a god" (qa-at DINGIR) is resting. 3o Subsequent to this provisional diagnosis of the symptoms from which the boy is suffering (established by the aeipu?) more precise information is sought through the performance of an extispicy on the boy's hair and fringe (done by the baro?). The answer, minuna ~i~um ul ibaeei, must probably be translated as "there is no question of guilt", although it could also be rendered, more loosely, as "'there is no cause for worry".306 The qat ilim diagnosis had apparently raised suspicion about the integrity and future of the patient, yet certainty could only be obtained by divinatory means. Another instance is found in an Old Assyrian letter, which records the illness of the woman Belatum. Her ailments are understood as an attack of the utukku (spirits) and the e~aTl1ll1U (ghosts). Consultation of the diviners shows that the whole affair was a si§n sent by the gods because they wanted back their loans (ikpibu).3 7

The recognition of a supernatural involvement in a disease had to be supplemented by further explanations; it certainly did not coincide with an indictment of sin. We are forced to conclude that the bulk of the diagnostic series SA.GIG does not allow us a direct grasp of the mysterious connection between the various ailments and the anger of the gods, be it spontaneous or provoked by human offences. In many cases the series establishes a relationship between the observed symptoms and the hand of a specific deity, but it usually refrains from giving explanations concerning the intentions of the gods involved or the cause of the illness. Fortunately, though, this general rule allows some exceptions. A small portion of the diagnostic omens is made up of causal apodoses, which mention either the desire of the deity under whose hand the patient is suffering, or the cause of his illness, usually a sin. Needless to say, these instances are of particular interest for the present investigation and deserve to be looked into. The first class, specifying the wishes of the god, comprises the performance of a ritual, the offering of presents,308 the recitation of a prayer 309 or the payment of a tithe. 310 The second category mentions sins ranging from cafe-going 311 to sex offences and sancta trespass. Sometimes it is not specified that the sexual intercourse was illicit,312 but usually it is a case of adultery ("he has approached a man's wife"),313 or incest ("he has approached his mother"). 31~ Relations with the priestess of one's god are sexual sins, condemned because they are a violation of the pro~erty of the deity.315 The "eating" of the asakku 316 or the ikkibu 31 are sancta trespasses properly speaking, just as are the cursing of the personal god or the god of one's city, 318 or the stumbling over a cultic socle. 319 Other references to human misconduct are of varied nature. Theft 320 and strangulation 321 are the most striking sins that are mentioned. 322 The entries of the second group are a mixture of "empirical" observations and sophisticated speculations. Sometimes there is nothing mysterious about the diagnosis. Thus the handbook interprets the symptoms of a headache, an aching neck and chest, intestinal disorder and poor appetite as the persecution of Htar "on account of the tavern". 32 3 The patient has apparently indulged in excessive drinking and is punished for it with a hangover. Yet this case is rather exceptional. Often the connection between symptoms and aetiology eludes our powers of penetration; nevertheless, at least two distinct hermeneutic devices can be observed. The link between protasis and apodosis is mostly furnished by the member that, now being the distempered part, is supposed to have been the instrument of wickedness. Incestuous relations are inferred from a smitten pelvis or crotch.32~ The embraces given to the entu-priestess are discovered by war of association when a man's tongue is tied and he cannot speak. 25 Sexual intercourse with a priestess provokes a swollen epigastrium, a feverish abdomen, diseases of the testicles and a scaly penis. 326 The "eating" of the a8akku or the ikkibu can be inferred from a constricted windpipe 327 or from the patient's repeatedly crying "my belly, my belly".328 In the first case the

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information as

0

0

0

0

0

"

"

" 0

0

In spite of the gap between the cautious and fragmentary evaluation of diseases in the Old Testament and the elaborate traditions contained in the series SA.GIG, study of the latter can sometimes help us to comprehend the former. In a previous chapter we noted the importance of oath and curse both in Israel and Mesopotamia. Various entries of the Babylonian manual instruct us on the nature of the diseases caused by the curse. Once the dispersed symptoms are assembled a more or less unified picture emerges which further study

shows to be reflected by the Old Testament writings also. Set against the Babylonian background the incidents which make up the sparse data encountered in the Scriptures reveal themselves as pieces of a larger, unified conception. The symptoms ascribed by SA.GIG to the miimitu focus on the stomach and abdomen. The patient suffers from abdominal pain and cries "my belly, my belly".339 His inside feels weak 340 and wind rumbles in his belly.3"1 Fever accompanies these intestinal disorders. 342 The patient shivers 343 and his members feel intermittently warm and cold, while the muscles become uncontrollably flabby or contracted. 3.. 4 He is naturally lacking in appetite, since he is unable to stomach food,3"5 which causes him to vomit 346 or to suffer from diarrhoea. 347 The patient's saliva production is abundant 3" 0 and may have a black coloration. 3.. 9 He coughs,350 hiccupS351 and may spit blood 352 or black phlegm. 353 "Stomach-ache" is put down to the miimitu,354 as is wine coloured urine, since it originates from the entrails. 355 All these ailments point to one centre: the bowels. This localization of the fatal radiation of the curse is also assumed by the introduction to a therapeutic text which submits the case where "the epigastrium of a man hurts as if the miimitu bound him".356 This interpretation of the commonly localized symptoms is in perfect agreement with the Mesopotamian oath ceremonial described in the preceding chapter. 357 The curse was made to lodge itself in the individual through the application of oil, the drinking of water or the consumption of sacred food. It is possible that the "eating of the taboo", which could produce stomach-ache according to SA.GIG,350 refers to this ritual enactment of the oath. 359 One might perhaps more convincingly associate it, however, with the hemerological food taboos. 36o In Israel oath and curse were embedded in a similar concept. The law on jealousy, commented upon earlier in this study,361 establishes a connection between the curse and intestinal troubles analogous to the Mesopotamian model. It is perhaps the complex of oathcurse-bowel complaints that offers the most satisfactory perspective for the understanding of the sickness of the Judean king Jehoram. According to the Chronicler, the LORD would inflict a heavy blow on the king's people, his sons, his wives and all his posRessions. He would suffer greatly from a disease of the bowels (ma~aZeh me'eka) , to the point where they would eventually prolapse. 362 I shall leave the tiresome business of identifying this disease to others 363 and attempt to outline its ideological and historical setting. Both elements of Jehoram's punishment fit in with the conventional consequences of a broken oath. The place of the bowels as the centre of the physical symptoms has been sufficiently emphasized; the continuation of the present chapter will show that the loss of persons and possessions is equally a distinctive aspect of the curse. 364 The sanction, then, could be connected with a breach of contract. Although the Chronicler does not explicitly refer to this, he might suggest between the lines that Jehoram was slain for his infringements of the 'edut, the official chart in which his rights and duties were laid down. 365 The king presumably disregarded the

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abominated object got stuck in the throat like an Adam's apple, in the second it has caused a stomach-ache. Another protasis records the possibility of a man's biting his tongue to pieces. 329 A disease of the ankle is an occasion for speculations about the patient's having stepped on a cultic socle 33o or into dirty bath-water. 331 Another procedure, more refined and less easily detected, focuses on a key word in the protasis and thence derives the apodosis. Thus, when a man's knees "eat" (akaZu)l Le., hurt him, he is said to haven "eaten" the taboo of his god. 3 2 Enough has been said to give a fair idea of the skill required of the Mesopotamian consultant. The study of the diagnostic tablets leads us to distinguish two levels in the interpretation of illness. Besides the general recognition of a few conspicuously ominous diseases whose signif icance was evident to the non-initiated, there exists a complex system in which the more enigmatic and ambiguous symptoms are analysed by the expert in a scientific fashion. The peculiarities of this antique science find no parallel in the Old Testament; the nabf:' did not derive his knowledge from a teratological investigation but from a consultation of the LORD. 333 Although it falls outside the scope of the actual enquiry, the situation of rabbinical Judaism of post-biblical times deserves to be mentioned in the present context. The similarities between the heuristic methods of the Babylonian scholars and the rabbinical hermeneutics have already been noted. An analogous convergence can be observed concerning the interpretation of disease. The Talmud teaches that blindness is caused by staring at "that place", Le., the vulva. 334 'AskO:Za, probably diphtheria, is said to be the sanction for backbiting, because both originate within the body and finally seize the mouth. 335 Certain ailments are connected with particular days,336 a specification calling irresistibly to mind the Mesopotamian hemerologies. 337 The conviction that the leper (~~ora') is usuallr a scandalmonger (mo~i' ra') is tributary to etymological exegesis. 30 These refinements represent a departure from the approach prevalent in the Old Tes tament, which is less precise in its understanding of the various diseases. They betray the profound impact of the Babylonian culture upon the Jewry of the diaspora.

8.

The Diseases Caused by the Curse

366 stipulations concerning the position of his brothers and the maintenance of a pure cult,367 offences which made him liable to the 'alah, leading to his death. Several passages of the Old Testament and various portions of the Akkadian texts indicate that the curse was responsible for a range of other diseases as well. 36B The intentional concentration on the manifestation of intestinal disorders, however, is meant to make one sensitive to a substratum common to both civilizations. Even so, the assemblage of the disparate elements of the curse complex can perhaps be enriched by a cross-connection with dropsy, an unambiguously ominous disease. According to Flavius Josephus, the adulterous wife whose thigh fell away and whose belly swelled (Num. 5,27) was actually suffering from dropsy.369 A Mesopotamian curse in a vassal treaty hints at the same connection. May Ea, king of the Deep, [the lord of springsJ, give you to drink [unhealthy water, may he fill you withJ dropsy. May the great gods of heaven and earth turn the water and the oil into your [ikkibuJ. 370 The tabooed state of water and oil may signify their inaccessibility,371 but since both elements are used in the oath ceremony, they are rather conjured to act as an ikkibu, inflating the bowels. The water of the curse could presumably become a malignant dropsy, called a "never ending flood", according to a possible interpretation of aganutillu.

9.

Isolated Instances of Punitive Diseases

reads: .,. qilutu ina me tun[ahJ, "you will alleviate the burns with water." A therapeutic text, AMT 74 11 32£., shows that the word can indeed refer to a specific ailment. The latter text gives a prescription for the case when "a disease spreads upward from a man's foot or from his testicles and makes him itch and he scratches".375 This disease is called rutibtu (or) qilutu. 376 AMT 74 11 34 offers a slightly different protasis: "If a disease spreads upward from a man's foot and makes him itch and he scratches"; the diagnosis remains the same: the name of the disease is ru~ibtu (or) qilutu. Although this medical text seems to confirm von Soden's understanding of qilutu as a definite physical ailment in our text, one can raise some serious objections against his interpretation. AMT 74 II 32ff. is manifestly not concerned with burns (one would be hard-pressed to explain the testicles as a possible centre of radiation), but rather with a disease like gangrene (compare the Dutch "koudvuur", "cold fire"). The Gula prayer itself, however, mentions fever, U'bu, which is an unidentified disease often mentioned in parallelism with fever, and laba/iu. 377 The latter disease, named after the demon responsible for it, caused profuse sweating. 378 This information does not agree with the observations of AMT 74 11 32ff., nor can the ailments be reasonably attributed to burns. In view of these considerations it is preferable in the Gula prayer to abandon the medical interpretation of qilutu, opting instead for a more literal understanding. At various points of the prayer one notices a marked affinity with the Surpu series; the triad of ummu, li'bu, laba/iu echoes Surpu V-VI 124; turtu and ma~'= altu, "retaliation and questioning", are borrowed from Surpu V-VI 67.77.87.97.107.117.126.138; the catalo~e of the patient's sins 379 is reminiscent of analogous portions in Su~u; the emphasis on guilt and the possible reference to the mamitu, 80 finally, suggest that the prayer served a similar purpose to the Surpu ritual. We are therefore inclined to regard qilutu here as a desifnation of a ritual burning, similar in meaning to ~urpu and maqlu. 3 1 Thus the SUbscription runs in translation: "[TexJt (to be recited during) a combustion (rite) x[ .•. J." Two of the symptoms mentioned in the Gula lament recur in a penitential ~u'ila. I~ an independently existing prayer to the god ~albatanu382 the king Sama~-~um-ukln inserted a few lines, actualizing, as it were, the demands of the text:

In a last section devoted to the interpretation of disease I propose to discuss a few isolated instances of illnesses understood as divinely inflicted retributions. Unlike the cases of "leprosy", dropsy, flux and intestinal disorders, the afflictions in question were apparently rare or only marginally important. Their identification sometimes presents considerable difficulties. The first text that needs to be considered is an Akkadian prayer to Gula, the patron deity of the medical arts, omitted from the survey of the penitential complaints in §3 because of its singular character.~ll It consists of an appeal to the goddess on behalf of a sufferer whose sins and wrongdoings are confessed to be numerous. 373 Rendering the subscription [INIM.INIM.JMA ~a qilutu ... as "[texJt against qilutu ... " one could presume that a phenomenon called qilutu had revealed the patient's iniquity. Can the meaning of the term be assessed? Von Soden wants to interpret the subscription as "[TexJt against burns ... ,,,374 which would make physical injuries through fire an indication of divine punishment. His interpretation of qilutu, derived from qalu, "to burn", is based on line 32 where he apparently

The "bad illness" is clearly attributed to the righteous anger of the gods, since a confession of sins immediately follows. It is likely that the U 'bu disease consisted in a skin disease and a simultaneous development of fever, stigmatizing the ruler in the

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I, Sama~-~um-ukin, son of his god your weary, exhausted and harassed servant, whom severe fever and the li'bu disease have seized and keep pursuing ... have weakened my entire body. A bad illness has attached itself to me. I call to you, lying exhausted in my bed. 383

those around him. 38 " Although the disease qualified for in this case it had apparently resisted all treatment and thus proved itself ominous to a high degree. A perusal of the Old Testament in search of more or less clearly circumscribed maladies leads us away from the prayers to the historical books. 386 Apart from the cases dealt with earlier in this chapter, there are several instances where a physical affliction is associated with God's punishment. Restricting ourselves to the accounts of individual retribution, we notice a variety in ailments and circumstances. Still the diseases have usually one corrunon denominator: death. Despite their diversity the physical disorders reveal themselves as punitive because, unless there is a divine healing, their outcome is fatal. Thus Nabal, the brute with so significant a name, was struck by stupor and died. 387 Ahaziah's disease, caused by a fall through the lattice, took a fatal turn after his consultation of Baal-zebub.~~~ The sickness of Hezekiah, manifesting itself in an inflamed spot, menaced the life of the king.389 When her son is taken ill the widow of Zarephath blames the prophet Elijah, whom she accuses of having come "to rake up my sin and cause my son to die".390 David's son, born of the illicit union with Bathsheba, falls also ill and dies for his father's sin. 391 The case of Joash shows that the illness itself need not be the actual cause of death; when laid low the king who killed Zechariah on account of his prophecy is murdered by his own servants. 392 In all of these cases illness is either the cause or the concomitant circumstance of death. The diversity of symptoms suggests that divine involvement was inferred from the (impending) fatal outcome, rather than from the specific ailment. Two afflictions, both understood as a sanction for sin and yet not lethal, appear rather mysterious. The first is found in David's curse on the house of Joab, in which the ma~az-tq bappelek, "one who holds the spindle", is fut on the same plane as one suffering from a discharge and a leper. 93 This pelek is not a skutales, "staff", as translated by the Septuagint, but the equivalent of the Akkadian pilakku, viz., a "spindle whorl". "Holding the distaff" was a corrunon image in the ancient world for the menial tasks of a woman, unworthy of a man. Thus a Hittite prayer to Istar asks that the enemies be robbed of their manhood, so that they will be holding the distaff and the mirror. 39 " Similarly, the Hittite soldier who broke his oath of loyalty was liable to be changed from a man into a woman, which change would manifest itself in his holding the distaff and the mirror. 395 A Tan~wna midra~ (775-900) interprets the expression in the same sense, declaring that the curse concerns the lame man who is forced to stay at home and is thus reduced to a feminine mode of existence. King Asa, diseased in the legs, can be forwarded as an example of one "who became like a woman". 396 It seems likely, though, that the execration refers to a more incisive affliction than irrunobility. Similar to the Akkadian curses that imply the loss of virility and potency, and even seem to allude to a change of sex,397 David's malediction may well comprise the idea of complete effeminacy, both mental and physical in its effects. 398 The second crux concerns Asa' s disease in the legs. 399 In a eyes of

previous section it was suggested that the text might be a euphemistic account of a case of flux. "00 Honesty compels us to admit, however, that other identifications are possible as well. The rabbins opted for podagra,"Ol while modern exegetes tend to suspect a gangrene."02 The latter solution could be connected with the description of qilutu in Akkadian medical texts."03 The sparse descriptions of retaliatory diseases do not reveal a gradual hierarchy of god-sent illnesses. A small number of ominous maladies whose impurity and conspicuousness designated them as punishments in a most significant fashion stood out against the others. The selection of them to fulfil this role is apparently based on ecological and social factors. On a more secular level their position has been taken over in modern times by tuberculosis and now cancer, both rich in metaphorical connotations."o" All other ailments seem to have been religiously evaluated in proportion to their likeness to the small group of leprosy, dropsy and flux. In that sense the latter could be considered paradigmatic. One notices a particular and quite natural sensibility to the conspicuousness and the persistence of morbid diseases, and the disgrace attached to them, while the sentiments culminate in a fear of a lethal stroke. During the period covered by the Old Testament the Israelites did not, as far as we know, develop any hermeneutic system for the interpretation of disease comparable to the sophisticated Akkadian diagnostic texts. One has to await later Jewry to see the hesitant beginnings of an elaborate systematization, and thereby solidification and petrifaction, of the physical marks of God's wrath.

medication,~8s

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10. Potency, Procreation and Offspring

1

Leaving the domain of illness and disease we move now to the various other areas of potential punishment. These concern family life, social position and, encroaching on every other province, corrununication with the gods. In the family sphere the concern for progeny was the individual's greatest worry. "Lo, sons are a herita~e from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward", says the psalmist. 05 His confession struck a strongly resounding chord in the hearts of the populace; later Jewish visions of the paradisiac beatitude foresee the possibility of every woman delivering one child a day. "06 The Mesopotamians attached an equal importance to having a quiverful. "Marrying several wives is human; getting many children is divine", sa~s . a ,sumerian ~rove:b, wantin~7 to stre~s man's dependence on the deltles favour ln thlS realm." The chlldlessness of a house, an "extinguished brazier"," 08 was the reverse of the coin, understood as an unmistakable sign of divine disapproval. As far as their own role was concerned, men feared the loss of their sexual capacity and a diminishing appetite for intercourse. The vade-mecum of the Mesopotamian exorcist included a series to recover and to increase the male potency,"09 the loss of which was mostly attributed to witchcraft."lO Occasionally, though, the impaired vitality is mentioned among the symptoms caused by divine 85

retribution.~ll The curious omen which understands the abundant loss of hair from a man's beard as a sign of the displeasure of his per" thlS context. ~ 12 Up to our sonal gods must probably be placed ln days a luxuriant head of hair has been a symbol of manhood;~13 its loss predicted for the Mesopotamians a proportional decrease of potency. Compared with the opprobrium poured out upon the barren woman, however, the stains on the male blazon were insignificant. Her infertility affected her husband too, of course, and the latter could even be responsible for her trouble.~l~ But in a civilization where male infertility could only be conceived as impotency, the wife was bound to be saddled with the burden of the blame. "If a woman's womb has accepted the sperm, but she does not conceive: wrath of the god; , " "15 A penltentla ' '1 sorrow", comments an omen, echolng pu bl'lC oplnlon. prayer to Istar, designed for the use of women, expresses panic at the thought of sterility. "Grant me a name and descendants, let my womb be fecund", is the woman's plea.~16 The mention of her "sin" (innintu ennettu) , the nature of which is not specified, is significant of the conceptual frame of her anxiety."17 A childless wife in Israel was exposed to similar suspicions of guilt. In the popular sentiment barrenness amounted to a moral flaw, often presumed to betray some perversity. Sexual offences were thought a most likely cause for sterility; only when the danger of fornication is removed will God grant posterity to Abimelech's house.~18 The woman with the inflated bowels offers a dramatic instance of the consequences of promiscuity.'19 Incestuous relations between a man and his aunt or sister-in-law lead to a lonely death."20 The case of Michal, whose longing for a descendant remained unfulfilled, indicated the possibility of other sins; she suffered on account of her scorn for David's fervour.~21 Against this background " ' 0 f t h e b arren woman, "22 par t'lCUone gets an lnkllng of the d espalr " , ' 1 s. "23 I t lS ' t rue larly vulnerable to the lnSlnuatlons 0 f h er rlva that in several places the Old Testament combats the self-righteous contempt for the childless woman and exalts God's power to gladden her with progeny, "2" but the biblical solicitude for the defenceless wife without children is matched by the conviction that offspring is granted or withheld by God, and that He must have His reasons for both.~25 When a woman did conceive the entire period of her pregnancy was beset wi th dangers. Among the Mesopotamian texts one comes across various prayers and incantations designed to protect the future mother against all malignant influences and to secure a safe delivery at a propitious time. "26 Difficulties and irregularities were taken for signs of sin. "If a pregnant woman rolls her eyes: she bears the guilt (for the wrongdoing) of her father, her unborn child will die", tells a diagnostic omen. 1t2 7 Several texts contain rituals a~inst the repeated appearance of blood during a woman's pregnancy. 28 The recurrent injunction to call lJig11 in this context~29 indicates that one suspected a fault, since lJig11 is the nearly magical cry to regain the deities' favour. ~ 30 Another text finds an occasion for a confession of numerous unknown sins in the "s tomach-ache" (Zwnun Zibbi) of a pregnant woman. ~ 31 She is appar-

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ently apprehensive of a stillborn or handicapped baby. Some of the personal names like Mina-aY'ni, "What-is-my-Sin?", may indicate that an exceptionally painful delivery was equally experienced as a punishment meted out by the gods, though the names could also be reactions to malformations observed in the new-born child. Once the family had been blessed with a child the hope of a lasting name could still be dashed by the untimely death of the newlyborn. The Mesopotamians attributed a family's extinction through the decease of its members to the curse. Introductions to namepimbuprudu rituals, i.e., rituals designed to dispel the mamitu, speak of death as a regular customer to the patient's house.~32 Solicitude for the offspring finds expression in a prayer to be recited seven times in order to prevent death from reaching the "suckling infant" (sepru Zaku) of the sinner." 3 3 Faced by the impending departure of his "first wife, other wives, sons and daughters" the accursed patep familias could endeaY:RPr to propitiate Samas by offering ransom money (kasap ip~epi).ij3 An examination of the Israelite material reveals a remarkable convergence with the Mesopotamian point of view. I Kings 16,34 rec?rds the death of the children of Hiel of Bethel, who refounded ~erlcho at the cost of his first-born and, still obstinate, erected lts ~ate~ at the cost of his youngest son. The sanction suggests the reallzatlOn of a curse and Josh. 6,26 shows this to be indeed the case.'35 The deportation of sons and wives mentioned in connection with the punishment of Jehoram of Judah favours the proposed connection of his illness with the curse. "36 In other instances the trespass of children is more loosely related to the sins of the parents, without reference to a curse. David' s son, born of an adulterous union with Bathsheba, is to die for the sin of his father.~37 In the account of the widow of Zarephath it is the woman herself who assumes that the death of her only son is contingent on Iler lnlquity. '" "38 In a more general way one may assume that the high ' f , t f ra e 0 ln an t morta I'lty 1139 wou l d have ' stlmulated the s~eculatlons about "hidden faults", both in Israel and in Mesopotamia •• 0 Throughout these adversities it is the terror of a definitive extinction which made the frustrated longing for a continuation of the pedigree an ordeal. Possibly one could be reconciled to the idea of one's own death, but to have one's name eradicated from the memory of the living was a judgment so terrible to the ancients that it exceeded most other misfortunes. It had to be interpreted as the curse of the grudging deities, intent on the complete annihilation of their rebellious servant. 11. Social Station, Status and Well-Being

I ,

Up till now my discussion of the possible punishments of the individual has been limited to his most immediate concerns: the maintenance of his health and the preservation of his name from oblivion. Both provinces are entangled with other values: illness or barrenness will not leave one's social situation unaffected. The present section turns to the position and the function of the individual

87

confessions of guilt, neither in Babylonia nor in Israel. Though human aggression could accentuate divine rejection, it was not entirely congruent with the latter. In many of the Hebrew laments the enemies of the psalmist are not total strangers, but originate from the circle of family and former intimates. They do not so much provoke his misery as react with hostility to his dejection. Their attitude tends to stress the total isolation of the patient.~59 In these instances they are part of the scenery against which the desolation of the sufferer is brought out. In Akkadian prayers loneliness and abandonment can be considered a sanction sent by the gods, but only exceptionally

within the society of his fellow beings. Leaving out the social consequences of disease and childlessness, it will seek to take stock of the possible misfortunes of a predominantly social nature. Both societies are in accord in preferring riches to poverty. Prosperity was considered not merely the result of diligent labour but a sign of divinely granted favour.~~l Such a belief fits in with the situation of a predominantly rural society where human skill alone cannot guarantee the success of agriculture and cattle-breeding. When the Mesopotamian texts interpret pauperization as a heavenly judgment they are mainly concerned with the gentlemanfarmer. The diagnostic introductions to the ritual release of the , ,~" 2 f'InanCla . 1 setcurse recurrently speak of decreaslng proflts, backs, .... 3 losses of cattle~"" and the decease of slaves and maidservants ..... 5 A behavioural omen predicts a decrease of possessions and ensuing poverty (muskenutu) to the fornicator (nii·ik). ~"6 Old Babylonian vows to Samaa, couched as records of debt, are made on the assumption that the favour of the deity will automatically bring about conditions of renewed prosperity.~"7 Within such a perspective economic misfortune, to be distinguished from the poverty of the lower classes, was inevitably viewed as a divine retribution. In Israel too pau~erization was usually held to be a concomitant effect of the curse.~ 8 Up to post-exilic times destitution could be posited as the consequence of a breach of oath. ~~9 Also the decline in prosperity of the emblematic sufferer, embodied in the biblical Job, is interpreted by the victim and his friends as a divine punishment, - though they disagree about the justifiability of the events.~50 With the rise in importance of money as an easily transferable symbol of possession, the flourishing of trade and the ensuing development of a more flexible society, wealth became problematic. It could have been acquired by mercantile shrewdness as well as by the blessing of God. Several psalms seem to voice the bafflement of the impoverished gentry in face of the treasures of , . . ' the nouveau Y'1,che, accumulate d t h roug h bUSlness acumen. ~51 I n Vlew of the new situation the theological appraisal of prosperity became increasingly ambiguous." 5 2 In comparison with the Akkadian prayers the penitential psalms strike one by the absence of any allusion to the financial losses of the suppliant. One is inclined to attribute this silence to a difference in theological outlook, provoked or reinforced by important social shifts. This tendency to subordinate prosperity to piety was stronger in Israel than in Mesopotamia, where success in trade and business remained largely a justification in itself. Most other social misfortunes concern either honour or happiness. Akkadian enumerations of evils due to sin refer frequently to slander,"53 curses,~5" false accusations,"55 and various signs of disrespect." 56 The social enmity becomes most acute when, largely because of an hostile disposition of the authorities, ~ 57 one is defeated by an adversary in court. What is more pitiable than to look upon the face of an exultant enemy and to hear the sound of his vilifications? Similar references to human antagonism abound in the Hebrew Psalms.~58 It is important to notice, though, that such incidents are never mentioned in isolation from other adversities in

Although all of the ominous incidences surveyed so far bear witness of displeasure on the part of the gods, we can also discern more immediate signs of the deities' irritation. The ancients sought to infer divine messages from the whole range of their experience, but

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so.~60

Among the Mesopotamian texts one occasionally comes across a somewhat picturesque reference to domestic quarrels, indicating the rancour of the deities. ~61 Omen entries of the series SWTlTTIa iilu sometimes depict such conflicts as a clash between the generations. ~62 Information of this type gives us an incidental glimpse of the importance attached to the harmony that should reign between the various members of a household. It shows at the same time that the Mesopotamians could attribute human conflicts to divine intervention as well as to deliberate human hostility. A few observations concerning the dismissal from office will close this section. One of the curses of Psalm 109 concerns the "office" (pequddah) of the wicked, which should be taken over by someone else (v. 8). The term used for "office" normally refers to a religious charge, mostly in the sanctuary,~63 and it is understood in that sense by Acts 1,20. If we accept that interpretation, the text offers a striking parallel to Ludlul I:103f. where the righteous sufferer complains that "they have let another take my offices (paY'qija) and appointed a stranger in my rites (pilludija)." One can also point to Job who lost his function as a judge. ~6~ Another position, equally endowed with a religious lustre, is the royal office. The Old Testament records a number of cases where l'k ' post, mostly ' apostate k Ings, 1 e Sau 1~65 l were vacated from thelr through a violent death. ~ 6 Among the prophecies of Isaiah we find God's rebuke of the steward Shebna, who is dismissed from his office and whose authority is committed to Eliakim. ~6 7 Mesopotamian texts seem to hint at similar shifts in the occupation of honourable positions. Omen apodoses predicting that the client will be removed from his office (teY'tu)~68 suggest that such a changing of the guard was a rather regular phenomenon. The displacement of officials, ordained by quarters too high to be personally approachable, was ultimately directed by the gods who allotted to everyone the position he deserved. 12. Intimations of Divine Disfavour

their sensitivity to irregularities occurring in connection with the conventional channels of communication with the gods was particularly acute. The anxieties focused on the possibilities and effects of prayer, on dreams and on clearly ominous accidents. Any oddity or uncanny event in these areas was likely to be felt as a severe reprobation from high quarters. Where prayer is concerned the suppliant could be thwarted in his expectations in two ways. Either he found himself in a position of inability to address the deities, or his supplications met with obstinate silence. The reasons for the former difficulty could be rather prosaic. An Akkadian dial\nostic text mentions a temporary muteness because of a sore throat. 69 Although the silent prayer was not considered ineffective in Israel,47d according to the usual Mesopotamian conceptions the gods did not heed unvoiced entreaties, but only reacted when the call of distress had reached their ears. In the majority of the cases, though, the trouble resided in the fact that the sufferer had no access to the shrine of the gods, the place where prayer was validated. This hindrance is named by a few Mesopotamian texts,~7l and probably presupposed by many others since it was the usual corollary of illness. The biblical psalms only incidentally allude to it,~72 though it must have been the fate of most of the penitents suffering with sickness. A remedy to the situation was sometimes found in the letter prayers that were sent to the sanc tuary and depos i ted before the gods. ~ 73 Al though the latter practice is also attested to for Israel,~7~ the Old Testament indicates that the prayer spoken in the direction of the temple had complete cuI tic validity.~7s The planned prayers that could not be pronounced must have been outnumbered by far by the prayers uttered in vain. Yet the Mesopotamian texts are remarkably parsimonious in references to unanswered calls. We are occasionally given to understand that the ~ods manifested their anger by a purposeful deafness to demands,~7 but they usually seem to have preferred more explicit signs of disapprobation. In a world where almost anything was susceptible of becoming a secret intimation from on high, the situations in which no possible sign could be detected were rare. It is in the Old Testament that one finds the acrid testimonies of despair at the conspicuous silence of the LORD. The Psalms frequently instance the bafflement of the neglected suppliant, and the historical books favour the contention that God's silence signified his wrath. In the Psalms this silence stands primarily for the continued absence of divine help;~77 in other texts it literally means that no reply is forthcoming. An obvious sign of God's growing displeasure with Saul is his refusal to answer the king's enquiry either by dreams, the urim or the prophets.~78 A comparable case is presented by the report of Jonathan's breaking of his oath, upon which the LORD does not answer any more. ~79 Saul immediatel~ draws the conclusion that it is a question of "sin" (~aHa·t). 80 Such and similar accounts set forth the belief that God normally hears the prayer of the faithful; when He fails to do so human misconduct has apparently blocked communication.~8l The Mesopotamian deities had a number of conventional means of 90

response at their disposal. Although they were not confined to the traditional channels, they almost invariably used them. The penitential prayers suggest that dreams are their favourite depositories of a message, though they may as well inscribe their answer in the entrails of the sacrificial animal or signal their intentions in the co~figur~t~on of the elements in man's environment. Consequently, unlntelllglble dreams and nightmares are signs of ill omen and, especiall~ in combination with other signs, tokens of divine displeasure. 82 The forgotten dream, too, signified the anger of the deity.~83 The complaint about abstruse dreams is a recurrent feature of penitential prayers and a regular ingredient in the experience of the emblematic sufferer. ~8~ It mostly appears in conjunction with confused signs,~8S bad omens~86 and the perplexity of the ritual experts.~87 All these things point to an unremitted sin on the part of the suppliant. As well as the customary ways of informing men of a sin, the gods could stage a particular incident. Thus one tablet of the series Summa alu is consecrated to the accidents that could befall a king or a noble when riding a chariot, most of which are interpreted as notifications of an iniquity or an omission.~88 The reference to dreams, the urim and the prophets as three possible channels of communication, at the occasion of Saul's visit to the witch of Endor (1 Sam. 28,6), shows that the Israelites thought that revelations could take on various forms. In connection with the individual, the dream seems to have enjoyed a privileged position. When nothing stands between God and man the "reins" of the latter pass on the instructions of the former during the night.~89 Several texts of the psalter seem to allude to the practice of in' · ~90 an d t hus attest to the lmportance attached to the dream cu b a t lon as a means of revelation, in Israel as well as in the rest of the ancient Near East;~9l hence Elihu's admonition to pay attention to one's dreams~92 and Job's depression over his nightmares.~93 The nightly visions that frighten a man betray a moral flaw. In a time that tends to take it for granted that our dreams spring from below rather than descend from above one may be amazed by the theological conclusions inferred from phenomena which most moderns believe to pertain to the province of psychology. The ancients shared neither our atomistic anthropology nor our secular world-view. In their perspective the negative events of the mental life c?uld be vi 7wed as intimations from the deity, wishing to call attentlon to a Sln. Some remarks to illustrate this point will not be amiss as a rounding off to this section. They concern the signs of mental uneasiness. ~he signs of anguish recorded by the protagonist of the diagno~tlc texts, are pr?bably to be understood as being caused by the tWlnges of ins conSClence. The complaints that are listed comprehend physical ailments like stomach-ache; these are of a psychosomatic nature, similar to many diseases referred to in the Akkadian prayers.~9~ TIle texts introducing penitential rituals draw the picture of a patient preoccupied by some mysterious cause of unrest. Forgetfulness,~9S fright,~96 irritation (niziqtu) ~97 stomach-ache ~98 moans,~99 foolish thoughts,SOO lack of appetit~,SOl fear,s02 r:st91

lessness,503 sleeplessness,504 irresolution,505 ~nd fits of par~l­ ysis 506 are characteristic of his state. The var10US symptoms p01nt to an obsession by an inarticulate apprehension, both preceding and inaugurating a divine punishment, according to the texts. Apart from the physical signs of a haunted conscience in the psalter,507 the Old Testament does not seem to favour the idea that mental confusion by itself indicated the loss of innocence. In an isolated case anguish is reported to have preceded a confession of guilt and one may assume that it had a catalytic effect. 50s In the natural order of events at least an inkling of error would have triggered this fear. The importance of the conscience in the process of discovering culpability in the Old Testament has been championed on the strength of philological arguments. Thus J. Milgrom argued that the verb 'srn, , when construed w1thout an 0 b'Ject, means " to f ee 1 gU1'1" t . 509 I n h'1S opinion it is used by Lev. 4-5 in this sense indicating that remorse would reveal hidden sins. 51o An examination of the various cases dealt with in these chapters does not convince one that the meaning he suggests is to be preferred to the traditional interpretation of the passa ye. 511 The verb 'srn denotes legal liability and its consequences. 5 2 The second aspec t is predominant in the prayer in Ps. 5 , 11 , "make them suffer for their sin (ha ,aa1:mem)" and in the promise in Hos. 5,15 "I will return to place, untll they w1ll have suffered for their sin ('ad ,aser-je'smU) and seek my face ... " In Lev. 5,1.2 we'asem, "and he will be held responsible (for his sin)", is paralleled by blnasa' ,awono , "and he will carry his sin". The constructions in Lev. 4,22f. 27f. (we'asemj '0 hoda' 'eZaw ~atta'to) must be rendered as: "and he will suffer the consequences (of his sin); but if (someone) informed him of his sin ... " The Oppos1t10n is not concerned with two variant ways of discovering guilt but a difference in its effect: one either suffers the fatal , " forgIven after a rIte 'f consequences or IS 0 reconCl'1"latlon. 513 Th ere is no need to understand 'am as "to sense guil t"; the text rather uses the verb jd', "to know, to become aware", to indicate that a perpetrator becomes aware of his offence. The cases submitted in Lev. 5,2-4 suggest that the evildoer realizes (jada') his guilt, not through a scrutiny of his conscience but through a random recollection, or an unsolicited information from outside, or by the force of his later circumstances. The witness remembers a detail he has omitted, the unsuspecting citizen is told by the priest that such and such an animal is in fact impure; the man who, at the height of his delight or the depths of his despair, made a vow, now finds that he has not the means to keep it. In all these cases the evildoers do not discover their guilty condition but their guilty deed. Only when the sinner is supplied with the relevant information can he consciously acknowledge his fault. What we call conscience is not a kind spirit whispering warnings into our ear, but the sum total of internalized knowledge. When a conscience is not programmed it is conscious of nothing. As such it is essentially a cultural product; outside an actual civilization it would remain a pure abstraction. And what holds for the conscience is equally valid for the perception and understanding of suffering.

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It is by virtue of a cultural pattern that suffering is perceived as suffering, and not as a mere pain or nuisance. It is also due to an ideological model that suffering is endowed wi th meaning. These remarks bring us back to the emblematic sufferer who dominated the beginning of this chapter. When the various elements of hardship and sorrow, dispersed over the diagnostic texts, the lamentations and the chronicles, are gathered, we hold the dissembled parts of the archetypal sufferer. He does not exist. Yet except for his existence there would be no concept of suffering. Physical, emotional and social suffering derive their meaning and their religious dimension, conveniently summarized in the doctrine of individual retribution, from the hermeneutic model proposed by the accounts of the emblematic sufferer.

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is bridged by the Boghazkoy tablets, among which KUB 4,17:7 stands out as the clearest illustration of the theme. "I do not know my sins which are numerous", confesses the pregnant woman who seems to fear a difficult delivery.s Variations on the theme of the secret sin, then, are by no means a deviation from the Babylonian religion but belong to its ancient heritage. 6 How are we to appreciate such statements? They may be given various interpretations, the shade of meaning changing with the background against which the proposition is set. It can be the simple expression of ignorance about the actual wrong that has been done, in the mouth of a submissive penitent who acknowledges his guilt. 7 At the opposite of this attitude of meekness we may find the same phrase introducing a protestation of innocence,s impl~ing that the sufferer is wrongfully treated as an irreverent person. Between these two poles there is a scale of nuances to give the confession of ignorance its particular shade. Mostly it serves as a kind of apology, by which the suppliant intends to make his gods understand his difficulties. A common model of interpreting human experience underlies the various expressions of ignorance. On the assumption that acute distress was caused by the gods to warn mankind or punish them for their wrongdoings, each personal misfortune gave rise to speculations about the sin of the sufferer. In spite of the sophisticated system of detection and diagnosis elaborated by the Mesopotamians, the latter were often incapable of determining what specific offence had caused the anger of the gods. The omens do sometimes mention the trespass at the root of the observed trouble,10 but usually leave the afflicted in the dark about his transgressions. The sufferer had to "inspect his ways", to use the words of an Old Babylonian penitential prayer to Istar,ll in search of evils he could confess. In many cases the investigation could not be crowned with any substantial result, and the individual was reduced to acknowledging his guilt, confessing at the same time his unawareness of a particular crime. Man's incapacity to discover the wrongful act committed is a theme to which the prayers frequently return to mitigate the anger of the gods. An unknown sin must have been unintentional and cannot be treated on the same footing as a wilful infringement of the commandments. Almost imperceptibly the notion of anonymity turns into an argument by which the patient is exonerated from guilt. The gods are reminded of the human condition, over which hovers the doom of ignorance.

5. In Search of the Secret Sin. Confessions of Ignorance and Pleas for Illumination

1.

Introduction

So far I have endeavoured to sketch the ideological models subscribed to by the civilizations of Mesopotamia and Israel, by virtue of which moral values and human experiences transcended the plane of ephemerality and fortuitousness. The ethically desirable behaviour was given the stamp of divine command, human adversity was endowed with a meaning. But for these incontrovertible gains there was a price to be paid. Where misfortune is supposed to proclaim guilt on the part of the victim, sooner or later the theodicy will be felt as a problem. This issue is dealt with in the various versions of the Righteous Sufferer, often conterminous with the stories of the emblematic sufferer referred to in the previous chapter. At present I want to point to a different but related phenomenon: the confession of a hidden faul t. A sufferer who was unaware of any wrongdoing could be so rash as to deny any alleged iniquity; he usually took a different course, especially in Mesopotamia, and pleaded ignorance. Instead of discussing the whole range of topics connected with the essence of sin, as might be expected at this point of my study, I have preferred to focus on the idea of the unknown transgression. The fundamental difference between Mesopotamia and Israel with regard to this subject demands that the two cultures be treated separately.

2.

Mesopotamia

"I do not know the sin I have committed", says an er§a~unga, 1 thus expressing the bewilderment of the sufferer at his punishment. Similar confessions of ignorance recur again and again in the Mesopotamian penitential prayers, to the extent that the sheer omnipresence of the theme can hardly fail to impress the student. 2 It is a literary topic that cannot be dismissed as a late development characteristic of the spiritual decadence from which Mesopotamia suffered under the rule of the Sargonids, and as incompatible with the essence of true Baby10nian religion. The Old Babylonian account of the Juste Souffrant says that its hero "does not know the sin he has committed", 3 and a bilingual from the same period pictures an individual who is treated like one who has been neglectful towards his god, "on account of an unknown sin". 4 The chronological gap between the Old Baby10nian period and the Standard Baby10nian texts

Man is not blameless, according to the thought expressed by this but his imperfections are inevitably inherent in his nature. Despite the appearances, the case of the suffering sinner does' not stand alone. Embodying the tragic fate of mankind, he is but one among many, since all men are constantly prone to error and

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Mankind is foolish (lit. deaf), knows nothing. As many as they may be, what does (mankind) know? He does not know whether he did evil or good. 12 er§a~unga,

I

negligence. 13 The iniquities of mankind are more numerous than the hairs of his head; H "where is the circumspect man who has not been negligent, [who has not committed] a sin, where is the one who watched out and did not Slip?,,15 The failure to conduct one's life in a way pleasing to the gods puts the seal upon the insufficiency of human wisdom. Where we are inclined to approach the ethical problem in terms of a conflict betwee doctrine and drive, the Mesopotamians stressed the gap between human speculation about good and evil on the one hand and the divine standard on the other. It is man's tragedy to be deaf and blind to the ways of the gods; not even the wisest of men can comprehend the mind of the gods. 16 The righteous sufferer of Ludlul pushes his boldness to the point of saying that the will of the gods is precisely the opposite of what man conceives it to be. What seems good to oneself is a crime to one's god; What is horrible to one's feelings is pleasing to one's god. 17 In this cry of bitterness the complaint about the shortcomings of human understanding turns into an accusation of the gods, who are, it is implied, arbitrary and whimsical. This critical judgment with its cynical overtones can hardly be taken as an epigraph of a chapter on Mesopotamian ethics, but neither can it be said to be a deviation from the usual views. Moral frailty is considered a matter of misjudgment. 18 Closely related to this theme are the utterances which picture the gods as being beyong human knowledge. A striking example is furnished by an eraahunga "to any god" in which the penitent demands the "unknown god" a;d the "unknown goddess" to have mercy on him. 19 The altar dedicated '''to a god unknown" (agnostoi theoi) seen by Paul in Athens springs to one's mind as a telling parallel from the New Testament (Acts 17,23). All men suffer from the incapacity to distinguish between good and evil, but this defect is particularly characteristic of those who have not yet reached the age of reason. The excuse of ignorance does therefore gain in conviction when youthfulness is adduced as an extenuating circumstance. On the assumption that they are being punished for a sin committed in a remote past, also the more advanced in years seek to mitigate the seriousness of their crimes by pointing out the limitations of their faculty of distinction in earlier years. "As a youngster I was inexperienced, I could not know whether I committed a sin, I was but young when I erred", argues a penitent to temper the wrath of Samas. 20 The "sins of the youth" are also mentioned in other prayers 21 and the contrast between adolescence and maturity is a cherished literary topic. A au'ila to NabO seems to stress the inability for prolonged concentration of youthful worshippers, 2 2 and the Epic of Gilgamea speaks about the rash and unthinking enthusiasm of the adolescent. 23 A youthful indiscretion is almost inevitably a secret sin, for who can be expected to keep a record of all his adolescent follies? Despite the sinner's ignorance of his wrongdoing, his guilt cannot be simply glossed over by references to the all embracing

96

1 f

t

~.

I'

1

reign of error or to his relative youthfulness. He who is indicted of sin by a misfortune sent by the gods cannot but confess his crime. The audacious denial of guilt would be out of place in view of the severe limitations of conscience and memory and the uncertainties about the divine will. Self-absolution was considered a grave offence by the Babylonians, who held that the humble acknowledgment of misbehaviour was an essential step towards reconciliation. 2" When the actual sin remained a mystery the penitent was mostly reduced to a general confession of guilt. The verbs by which the sinner acknowledged his offence have slightly different shades of meaning which in combination are meant to cover the entire realm of human failing. Terms which also denote social misconduct 25 go together with references to unmistakably irreligious behaviour. 26 The desire to include all possible wrongdoings in the confession eventually led to the use of exhaustive lists of trespasses. Such catalogues, among which the second tablet of Surpu ranks as the most famous, have sometimes been understood as checklists, which the priest could go over to discover the secret sin of his client. 27 For reasons of context and grammar it is preferable to interpret them as confessions recited in their entirety by the penitent, in the hope that his personal sin would be among the ones listed. Pieces of detailed confession are not only found in Surpu, but also among the dingirsadibbas 28 and the Lipsur-litanies,29 and can be related to the catalogues of possible mamitus. 30 In some cases the suffering individual could not resign himself to his miserable fate, yet did not have the audacity to charge the heavenly ministers with error. Confession and submission could then be momentarily postponed, and the supeliant enquired after the grounds for his treatment. In one prayer Samas is asked to go to the personal gods of the sufferer, charged with the following message: NN, son of NN, your servant, has sent me with the following message: "Why have you inflicted upon me worry and distress?" Let them show (it) to me in a dream and tell mel Let them reveal my sin, be it premeditated or unintentional, and I will resign (?) myself to my punishment I 31 In a namburbi ritual performed for the king or the noble who had fallen from a chariot, the great gods are asked to tell the victim the sin he has committed, that he may guard himself against doing it again. 32 The dream seems to have been the privileged channel of information from which indications about the identity of the secret sin were expected. 33 3.

Israel

Speculations about the secret sin were not the prerogative of Mesopotamian religion. They occur in each society which cherishes a rigid model of retribution to interpret experiences of adversi ty. 97

Though more marginal and partially enriched by other nuances, the theme of the hidden fault is also touched upon by the Old Testament. In one of his monologues Job asks God to tell him the number of his wrongdoings and to make him know his sin, 3~ suggesting that he is being punished for the iniquities of his youth. 35 The desperate widow of Zarephath blames the death of her only son on a36 long forgotten sin brought to remembrance by a visiting prophet. Although Job and the widow were no Israelites, their reactions probably concur with the Israelite attitude. The rare references to hidden iniquities in the psalter reveal a more serene outlook. In Psalm 19 the worshipper meditates on the difficulty of discovering one's "errors" Ufgt'ot) and requests the 37 LORD to let his "hidden sins" (nistiil'ot) go unpunished. Psalm 90, a prayer of the congregation, relates the frailty and brevity of human life to the fearful wrath of the LORD, who sets the "secret sins" (,a Zumnrtm ) 38 of the people in the light of his countenance. 39 Both prayers are written in the mode of adoration and confidence. Psalm 19 artfully combines a hymn on the splendour of the firmament with a praise of the law of the LORD, the two parts being linked associatively by a parallel between the sun and the law or the Lawgiver. Just as nothing on earth can remain "hidden" (nistal') from the glow of the sun, so no actions and motives are hidden (nistal'ot) from the light of the law. ~o The poet of Psalm 90 opens with the proclamation of the LORD as the refuge of his people and closes with a request for the manifestation of his glory and friendliness. Both the initial statement and the final plea gain in depth when it is admitted that the human condition is tainted with iniquities and hidden sins, revealed in the light of God's presence. Thus the distance between Creator and creature is shown to have a moral dimension and can only be overcome by grace. The priestly prescriptions of Leviticus and Numbers deal with the problem of the secret sin from a different perspective. Lev. 4,1 - 5,19 submits various cases in which an unconscious sin comes to the knowledge of the sinner and the text determines the procedure to undo the guilt incurred by it. Num. 15,22-31 stresses the unintentional character of the hidden sin, by comparing it with deliberate crimes." 1 The accentuation of the motives underlying the deed exploits an aspect more implicitly contained in Leviticus 4-5. In none of these texts is human ignorance excused by the alleged ambiguity of the divine will. At the origin of the possible errors enumerated lies a lack of circumspection or insufficient knowledge of the commandments.~2 In a few instances penitents seek to mitigate God's anger by allusions to the sinfulness of the entire human race. Job's considerations about the uninterrupted rule of sin throughout the generations~3 and the observation that "there is no man who does not sin" in Solomon's prayer,qq are echoed in a few psalms. The misel'el'e elaborates the idea of sin as a structural defect inherent in the individual from his birth onward (Ps. 51,7). In order to move God to compassion the suppliant of Psalm 130 underlines the dependence of all men alike on the divine pardon (vv. 3-4), an idea which is also taken up in Psalm 143,2.~5 In this respect the Israelite could agree 98

,

Co

with the defence of the Babylonian. Since his sin is no exceptional incident, he should not be treated mo~e severely than others. Unlike the Akkadian prayers, the biblical psalms do not relate the human tendency to sin to the inaccessibility of moral knowledge. Although Israelite wisdom is aware of the limitations imposed on man's ethical judgment,~6 the prayers are more congenial to the spirit of the Deuteronomic preaching about the nearness of the word of the law.~7 The revelation of the divine will poses the individual with a choice; the general sinfulness reveals malevolence rather than ignorance.~8 Although moral weakness cleaves to every man from his youth onwards,~9 he cannot be held fully accountable for the sins committed in his tender years. Children do not know how to distinguish between good and evil (Deut. 1,39) or left and right (Jonah 4,11) and fall under the responsibility of their parents. Still it was believed that God remembered the adolescent's deeds, for which the latter could be brought to judgment at a later stage of his life.·50 Confronted with inexplicable misfortune the sufferer could be led to think that he was made to pay for the sins of his youth. 51 Under such circumstances the suppliant could appeal to the clemency of the LORD, pleading youthful rashness. 52 The confession of guilt was not less important in Israel than in Mesopotamia. God's judgment had to be justified by a Gel'ichtsdoxoZogie in which the penitent acknowledged his fault. 53 Ritual prescriptions mention the need for confession5~ and penitential ceremonies obligatorily involved a formal recognition of misconduct. 55 In the penitential prayers of the Psalter references to specific sins are lacking. That the general tone of the confession is not meant to conceal ignoranc~, howeve~, is shown by Ps. 51,S in which the penitent stresses hiS unceaSing preoccupation with his transgression. The commonness of the confession is partly due to the formulaic c~aracter of the psalms, which are meant to encompass various situations, and partly prompted by the insistence on the religious side of the offence. Confession catalogues do not occur while protesta. f 'innocence abound. 56 The latter lend a particular ' tlons 0 vividness to the encounter between God and the individual and bear witness to the believer's confidence in the priestly instructions about the divine precepts. If need be, the sufferer could ask for information about the identity of his secret sins. 57 As in Mesopotamia the dream was the favoured channel through which an answer to these questions was obtained. 58

99

6. Class Conflicts and Moral Antithesis

,I 1.

The Figure of the Antithesis

An inventory of the moral values held in esteem by the civilizations of ancient Mesopotamia and ancient Israel may easily leave us with the impression that, however opposed the religious climate and the theological outlook, the two followed essentially the same strategies in ethics. Religion is one thing, behaviour another. It is true that a simultaneous study reveals differences, but these concern largely minor points. Even where they cannot be shown to proceed from differences in social structure, their presence seems insufficient to posit an ideological contrast. And yet one is reluctant to admit such a nearly complete separation between theory and practice. Should'there not be points where the religious superstructure has led to divergent developments? The question raises a problem that cannot be dismissed as being irrelevant to the purposes of the present study. At the risk of underrating its dimensions I shall therefore endeavour to treat the issue in this last chapter; in view of the implications of the subject it can serve as a conclusion to the entire enquiry. So far I have presented each of the two civilizations as a gamut of juxtaposed concepts and convictions. Although it was never questioned that the ideas had a past and a future, the implications of that historical involvement have not been probed. In order now to obtain some insight into the fundamental differences between the two cultures we shall have to exchange the synchronistic method for a diachronistic approach. The structural and ideological differences mentioned in the first chapter are profound. 1 However, unless it is demonstrated that they produced historically different attitudes and behaviours, these differences will remain a mere abs traction. We must be able to point to a historical phenomenon, occurring in only one of the two civilizations, not merely accidental or erratic, but clearly resulting from its religious presuppositions. And since my main concern was ethics and their religious calibration this phenomenon should preferably not bear on explicitly religious matters such as the ban on iconolatry or on certain forms of divination, but on the question of moral judgment. Although it may seem contradictory in view of the previous remarks, I shall take my starting point in a literary phenomenon. During the discussion of the Old Testament ethics no attention has been paid to a formal singularity of the Israelite wisdom literature which, although it does not affect the content of the demands, may 100

1

have far reaching implications. It is the antithetical mode of expression, contras ting the "wise" (iJiikiim) wi th the "fool" (kestl). Even at a cursory reading of Job and the Book of Proverbs this recurrent opposition will not fail to impress the reader. It sticks in the mind because it seems so much at odds with our current experience; no one has reached perfection, neither in vice nor in virtue. To divide mankind into the sheep and the goats looks like a terrible over-simplification. Yet this rigid dualism cannot be discarded as accidental; it recurs in the psalms as the antithesis between the "righteous" (iJaddtqtm) and the "wicked" (pes(z'tm) echoed in many a prophetic oracle. ' An examination of the Mesopotamian texts only accentuates the peculiarity of the Israelite figure of speech. The Akkadian texts do offer instances of merismus, juxtapositions of two polarized notions in order to convey the idea qf totality. Before Samas the wicked (paggu) and the righteous (kenu) prostrate themselves. 2 The meaning of such expressions is made clear by a Neo-Babylonian letter that speaks of "words good or/and bad, whatever I may hear here".3 The bilingual proverb which teaches that "the wise man is clad in a festive g~rment" the brute is dressed in a blood-stained rag",4 does not fall into thiS category. It approaches the antithetical forms of the biblical proverbs, but remains an isolated parallel in the BabyIonian wisdom literature. The overall situation confirms that the antithesis is a distinctive feature of the sapiential literature of the Old Testament. This singularity has not escaped the notice of Old Testament scholars. H.H. Schmid referred to it as the "Anthropologisierung der ' h el't"S an d d'd ' f act use the term " 6 The sugWels 1 in Antithetik". gestions ventured as an explanation are various. Many authors seem to take the phenomenon for granted, apparently attributing to the genius of the Hebrew poetry a propensity to express itself antithetically. Considering its conspicuousness and relative peculiarity, however, this seems too facile a response. Schmid himself understands it as a sign of progressive individualization. Man, having lost the sense of cosmic unity, became increasingly selfconscious. The ensuing bipartition of mankind was modelled upon the juridical opposition betwee? guilty (P(zB(z') and innocent J~addtq), and followed from the prominent place of the notion of ~ diiqah in Israelite thought. This leading principle allowed for no attenuation or re~inements in the evaluation of behaviour; it was either black or whlte. 7 O. Keel, in a study of the enemies of the individual in the P~alms, criticizes Schmid. 8 Although he tackles the problem only indirectly, the conclusion seems justified that Keel regards the literary opposition as the result of a mental projection. The wise ~an and the fool, analogous to the righteous and the wicked, are images whose concrete existence in everyday reality is only partial. 9 From here it is only one step to taking them as artificial abstractions, designed to create order in a disconcertingly confusing world. Thus, the opposition could be made to serve a pedagogical aim. The inexperienced youngsters would more readily grasp the importance of wisdom when it was contrasted with patent in101

stances of the contrary. Although several elements of the advanced explanations are plausible, none of them carries complete conviction. One feels that something more is needed to account for the marked presence of this antithetical scheme of presentation. The expounded theories are particularly vulnerable to the objection that they fail to bridge the gap between literary stylization and social reality. The biblical imagery would become somewhat chimerical if it implied that the actual pattern of the society is sacrificed to the lucidity of a grandiose moral vision. It is not sufficient to say that individual ism and didactic concern simply demanded such exaggerations and intensifications of a rather amorphous and ever flexible division. What is needed is a demonstration of the logical relationship between literary construction and historical experience. It is necessary to show that it is more than a mere fabrication, however praiseworthy the motive underlying it. I shall therefore endeavour to catch it in its formative stage and try to follow it in its successive metamorphoses. 2.

Socio-Economic Dimensions of the Antithesis

Before trying to come up with any novel interpretation, it is prudent to ascertain whether there are no other cultures in which a similar literary phenomenon emerged. They might be able to further our understanding of the Israelite situation. Keel rightly attacked Schmid's assertion that the antithetical anthropologization of wisdom was uniquely Israelite. Referring to the Instruction of Amenenopet and the Papyrus Insinger he tried to show that the antithesis also occurs in Egyptian wisdom literature, albeit in a milder form. Having made this observation Keel posits that the anthropological . h eSlS . .lS typlca . 1 0 f t h eater 1 . d antlt WlS om 'In genera 1 • 10 In a still more eloquent fashion the antithesis appears in the classical Greek texts, the examination of which promises to be most rewarding for our purpose. The opposition between the agathoi and the l-te-ep-pu-su ana-ku lu-u i-du-u DINGIR.MU pu-~ur dXV . MU us-s[i-~i] suk-na-ni hi-ta-ti-ias a-na SIGs.[MES-ti] an-nam 7-su DUG~.GA-ma i-k[dm-mis-ma] [ik]-ki-su DUa-ma ma-la lib-b[i-su DAB DUG 4. GA]

20

[NA]M.BUR. [Br]

14 15 16 17 18

5

6

~

In his article on the sig71 prayers M.-J. Seux included a transcription and translation of K.2425 (= S.H. Langdon, Babyloniaca 3 [1910] 29f. 32), which he regarded as a sig71 (Melanges Cazelles 434f.). The text is largely duplicated by K. 9252, which reads sig71 instead of E.NU.RU, immediately after the heading EN. In view of the recurrent use of sig71 as a cry for pity, it should be interpreted here as an exclamation rather than as a part of the superscription. The prayer seems to be referred to in BMS XIX (= K.2832+6680) 1:5f. as a din= girsadibba. I shall base my transliteration on K.9252, since it is the longest fragment of the two. Variants from K.2425 are given subsequent to the translation.

.

If a man has cried "sig71" to his god: on Tasrhu the 1[6th] he should cry a sig71; his god will be at pe [ace] with him.

"sigu" to his god: on a propitious day, Hn the morning] . 8 (and) at evening time he shall str[ew] a scattered serqu-offerlng; 9 he will not s[prinkle] that serqu-offering with purification water. 10 That ~]an shall kneel behind the offering installation and [turn] his arm behind his back 11 [and] speak as follows: "[I did commit] crimes, a misdeed and a sin; 12 I was negligent, I sinned against my god and committed misdeeds against my goddess. 13 I did transgress your borderline, I did [eat] your consecrated substance, 14 I did step on what is an abomination to you. 15 Of all the things I have been doing I am well aware. 16 My god, release i t , my goddess, tear (it) [out]! 17 Change my sins into beneficial [actions]I" 18 This he shall speak seven times, and he shall k[neel; then] 19 he will be able [to brea]the freely and [say] everything [that worries his] heart. 20 [Na]mbur[bi]. 7

(d) Fragment of a penitential prayer to the personal god

If a man has cried

EN si-gu-u al-si-[ka i-li si-ma-an-ni]

2 nu-~a-am-ma i-li [lib-ba-ka li-tu-ra] 3 si.mi ik-ri-bi-i[a sum-ru-~u-u-ti] 4 NIG.GIG im-hur-an-ni [dup-pir] 5 ta-ni-~i-ia sa DU-[su mu-~ur] 6 dim-mat ad-mu-mu li-bil-[ka GEs] 7 ul-tu u~-um be-li [te-nin-an-ni] 8 DINGIR DU-ia tas-bu-su [UGU-ia] 9 E tas-ku-nu [ana E di-ma-ti] 10 g i~ NA.MU qaq-qa-ru mu-[sab mu-si-ia] 11 ek-me-ku sit-tu su[m-ru-su sa-ld-ld] 12 s[u-ud-l]u'-lpa-kuJ [ • . . . . . ]

,

1

2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

10 11

12

136

..

I cry sig71 [to you, hear me my god]! Relent my god, [let your heart return]! Hear my [sorrowful] prayers! [Dispel] the trouble that has come upon me! [Accept] my sighs which I have heaved! May [the night] bring [to you] the tears I have wept! Since the day that you, my lord, [have been angry with me], you, my god and creator, have been irate [with me] (and) turned my home [into a house of tears] (instead of) my bed the bare soil (has been) [my nightly] dweHling]; I am bereaved of sleep, [resting is pain]ful. II amJ much [distressed] [ . . . • • • ]

137

1 I

Notes 1 2 4 5 6 8

9-10 9 11

K.2425: omitted omitted K.2425: K.2425: K.2425: omitted cL LKA K.2425:

13' [ . . . • . . . x . . ] L x x J x x x x L x x J [ . . . . . ]

E.NU.RU al-si-ka by K.2425. by K.2425.

ta-ni-hi-ia sa ma-gal da-al-pa-ka GE6 lib-lak-ka i-li ba-ni-ia by K.2425. 29 L, 8.

In his enumeration of sigU prayers W. Mayer ventured to propose that 79-7-8,71 might be classified among them (UFBG 15). Examination of the said tablet suggests that he was prompted to do so on the strength of the standard phrase sigu ana bala~i alslki, "I cry unto you a sigU for life". However, the other characteristic phrases are lacking (cL UFBG 112L), and a rubric is missing, while the only evil mentioned is the mihru, "mishap". Since the short incantation which immediately follow; belongs in fact to the Surpu series (the inaipit "Atti tubqinni'" is listed in Surpu I Rev. Il:4', cf. E. Reiner, AfO Beih. 11 [1958] p. 4), we must_assume that the prayer to Belet-seri is equally connected with the Surpu ritual. This assumption i's corroborated by the fact that in SbTU Il 12 III 44ff. (ritual tablet of Blt rimki) the various Surpu prayers are to be recited before the offering installation of Belet-Ileri. One might venture th guess that our text represents the finale of the unidentified Surpu incantation ni'su ni~lu (Surpu I Rev. 11:3; VII 8, cf. CAD N/2 219b s.v. nihlu B), but any precise identification is open to doubt, since the ~rder of the Surpu prayers is not uniform.

2'

[lu-u]~-bat SU

• • • • • •

]

dALAD rSIGsl rxl [

.ik-ri-bi DU-at SA.TU[R] 5' [r]u-bat ma-li-ki si-gu-u ana TI.LA al-si-k[i] 1 6' [na-p]is da/-ad-me ana pa-sa-ri as-~ur-ki T[U 6 .EN]

,

7' [EN at-ti t]ub-qin-ni ma'-~i-rat ka-la dam-qu 8' [ni-su ta-]mah-ha-ri ma-mit ta-mah-ha-[ri] w w

v

9' [tur-ta ta-]mah-ha-ri mas-al-ti ta-mah-h[a-ri] v

_

-

-

10' [li-i' -bu] ta-nxz·-ha-ru um-ma ta-ma[h-Jza.-ri] W

W

W

,

11' [GIG ta-ni-hi] a~-ni 8~r-ti gil-la~ti ~i-ti'-ti 138

] x[

want to]

...

]x [

• • • • • ••

.

.

.

.

• ••.

.

.

•

.

]

]

seize the hands of a rfriendlyl genius r x

1

]

[I experienced a m]ishap, may they take it over from mel Belet-Ileri, who hears prayer, who fashions the female womb, [qu]een of counsellors I I cry unto y[ou] a sigU for life; [(divine) br]eath of the inhabited world, for release I have turned to you. In[cantation.]

7' 8' 9' 10' 11' 12'

[Incantation. You] corner, which takes over everything evil: You take over [the oath], you take over the curse, You take over [retaliation], you take [over] questioning, You take over [the li'bu-disease], you ta[ke over] fever. [The pain of hardship], offence, transgression, misdeed, sin: [may those who pass by you take (it)] over from me, may those who step upon you substitute [for me] 13' [ x··]LxxJxxxxLxxJ[] 14' [

]x [

• .

• .

•

•

]

Notes 3'

12'

[d]B;-let-EDr.~ ~e-mat

~

[I [

8'-11'

]

3' [am-hur m]i-ih-r'U lim-hu-ru-rin-nil

4'

I' [ . . .

3' 4' 5' 6'

(e) Two Surpu incantations

II

14' [ . . . • . . . . . . • . .

2'

Sit-tu,+

I' [ . . . . . ] x[

12' [e-ti-qu-ki lim-hu-r]u-in-ni ka-bi-su-ki li-ti-nu-u [KI-ia]

Cf. Maqlu VII:141; 01' NS 36 [1967] 31 Rev. 6; KAR 165 Rev. 4. The latter text is of special interest since it contains three other Surpu incantations, viz., "atti sassatu", "atta blnu" and "miimlt miirat Anim" (cL Surpu I Rev. Il 6 '-8') , and thus confirms the proposed identification of the Belet~eri prayer. !he lacunae can be easily restored through a comparison with Surpu V-VI 124ff. Cf. KAR 246 Rev. 17 11 JRAS [1936] 587 Rev. 11 etc., see JRAS [1936] 590.

(f) A penitential prayer to Marduk K.254, the main portion of this text, was first published in 1875 by Sir H.C. Rawlinson in a copy prepared by G. Smith (4 RI 66/2). In the second edition of 1891 Th.G. Pinches included the copy (4 R2 59/2) and added a few corrections (4 R2 p.12). The tablet was quick to attract the attention of Assyriologists. In 1885 H. Zimmern published a transliteration and translation of Rev. 9-32, together with a philological commentary (Babylonisahe Busspsalmen [Leipzig 1885] 100ff.). M. Jastrow offered a translation of the same lines in 139

Die Religion Babyloniens und Assyriens Il [Giessen

1912 J 94-95, while S. Langdon came up with a transliteration and translation of the entire tablet (Babyloniaea 7 [1913-23] 139ff.). In his commentary he stressed the thematic convergencies between K.254 and the theological speculations encountered in the poems of the righteous sufferer. Since then it has been found that a join could be made between K.254 and K.3369, and a duplicate has been discovered in LKA 29k Rev. While I was working on this text in the British Museum, Prof. W.G. Lambert drew my attention to BM 72012, a small fragment which turned out to be a Neo-Babylonian duplicate. A reconstruction of the text on the basis of these tablets shows that it is not a dingir= sadibba as suggested by some scholars (E.R. Dalglish, Psalm FiftyOne [Leiden 1962] 53; J. Nougayrol, Vg. 5 [1968] 270), but a penitential prayer to Marduk (cf. Rev. 12). At several points it betrays an affinity with the so-called literary prayers (cf. Ch. 4 note 26); the elaborate imagery of the perilous voyage (Obv. 6'-11') and the sombre speculations about the creation of mankind (Obv. 28'-Rev. 2) show the author to be familiar with the traditional language and tenets of Babylonian theological wri ting. When considered in its totality, however, the prayer can hardly be classified as "literary". It can best be compared with the ifu'ila to Marduk listed as "Marduk 4" in VFBC 395 (for copies see also AOAT 34, 35-39; for a recent translation and commentary see M.-J. Seux, LAPO 8 [1976] 169-172), which also refers to the human fate (BMS 11:7-15 and par., cL W. von Soden, Iraq 31 [1969] 83; W. Mayer, Or NS 46 [1977] 387f.): Great Lord, Marduk, merciful godl What man, whoever he may be, understands his own sin? Who has not been negligent, who has not sinned? Who comes to an understanding of the ways of the gods? I want to be careful, lest I commit a sin; I want to visit without ceasing the place of life. It has been decided among the gods that man must toil under the curse and bear the hand of the god (var.: gods). Like "Marduk 4" the prayer presented below seems to have been commonly used in a cultic context.

Obverse l' [

] ka-bat-t[i im-ta-ra-a~] ut-Jnin-[nu . . . . ]

2' [ 3' [

. . ] ma-ga l [ . . . .] 4' G[IM la pa-lih DINGIR D]O-k[u] a-na-[ku] ,

5

I

w _

,

IGI. [MU a-na ZALA]G'ta-ra'

-[~u]

ul a-li-'-io

6' sa-[

. . . ul il]-la-ma-dan-ni 7' i[n-na-di i-na tamJ-tim gis IG gis MA 8' SUB-[ku a-na-k]u i-na an-za-nun-zi-e 9' gisM[A . . 10'

. IM] dan-nu is-sa-na-a~-~p-an-ni

si-ip-:r[at

. . . . . l]u-u e-te-ti-iq ru-qa-an-ni [kib-ri] na-ba-lu ne-sa-an-ni ~ [ u-ub gis MA- ~na . K]UR-i ik-t[e]-ru ZI-tim 12' ~u-z 11'

13' ek-man-[ni i-li-i 14

. . . ]-e im-ifi-ni 14' GIM MUSECN] ina [qu-up-pi a-na]-ku u-ifap-ifaq 15' ul a~-bat [~~-mi i]l-ta-ni da-ba-bi 16' pak-ki pi-i[a sa a]d-bu-bu ul i-di 17 ' GIG e-te-[ek-man-ni] mil-ki dam-qam 18' tab-lat bal-ti rnu-ukl-ku-rat la-mas-si 19' Cd] ALAD.SIGs d LAMMA.SIGs BAD-u UGU.MU ina IGI Il .MES.MU sa~-rat

kim-tu4

20' ina KI.HUL-e GIG SUB-ku a-na-ku 21' [i]b-ri u tap-pi-e it-ta-nam-da-ru-in-ni: UN.MES URU.MU it-ta-nam-da-ra-nin-ni 22' °e-te-e DINGIR e-ti-iq-ma ifak-na PAP.tlA L 23' [GI]M NINDA a-ta-kal ma-ru-uif-tu4 bi-ki-tu 4

Texts A: K.254+3369 Obv. 1'-35'; Rev. 1-33 B: BM 72012 Obv. 4'-12' C: LKA 29k Rev. Rev. 10-33 The numbering of lines follows text A. For a recent translation and commentary of K.254 II LKA 29k Rev. see M.-J. Seux, LAPO 8 [1976] 208-211.

24' [GrJM ku-ru-un-ni aif-ta-ti A.MES PAP.HAL u dim-ti' Ji ' .: 25 ' [GIJ M KAS-I .DIN I a~-ta-t~ A.MES- SES.MES: GIM TUG lab-ifd-ku ar-na kab-[ta] 26' GIM zi-i-bi

a~-~a-lim

a-[na-ku]

27' ri-ifu-tu4 nam-ru-tU4 u-te-e~-~u-u zi-m[u-u-a] 28' mi-na-a i-di lman-nuJ im-tal-[lik]

29' sa t~-ma la i-ifu u [ifa t]l~-maJ GAR-na IGI.IGI-ma ~i-[bil-ta] 30' dif-ifu la a-ba-li [GUJN.MES sup-[ifu-qa-ti] 140

141

31' U lM la ka-[ba-sJa DlN[GlR.MES LU.Ux .LU DU-uJ 32' as-su la ma-su x[ • • . • • . • • • J 33' as-su se-mi-e u ta-a-[pi . . . . . . . . J

34' ep-set a-na na-mu-tU [ . . . . . . . . . J 35' °e-ka-a lil-ma-da te-e[m DlNGlR.MES qi-pib AN-eJ Rev.

man-nu it-ti DlNGlR ba-la-ta [i"l-qiJ 2 a-a-um-ma is-mi a-mat d[U.DARJ 3 mi-na-a i-di sa D[U-su ul i-diJ liq-bu-nim-ma ep-set DU-sU [NU zu-uJ 5 KU.MES A.MES i-li da-lu-u ka[p-pi-ia li-mal-liJ

4

6 7

u lu-us-te-'-i as-pat I

su'-u~-pa

DlNGlR.lMES GALj.[MESJ

DlNGlR.DlNGlR rsi-mal-[a qa-ba-a-aJ

8 a-na ,pig-mi-ias

sum-1'U-l~ij

ma-g[al qu-laJ

9 i-li-il~ sab-su [suJ~~-~i-pa p[a-ni-kaJ 10 du.DAR.MU sa te-zi-zi Tl-e u[n-niJ-ni-ia 11

Tl-e un-ni-ni-ia

li-nu-u~

kab-t[a-aJt-ki

12 be-li ta-a-a-1'U pi-mi-nu-u [dAMJAR.UTU . / ~ 13 m~m -ma I TE SUR tes-mu-u tu~-pa-as-sap: • l" ~~-~l~

BUR-pa TUK I -a . p~-e-ma

14

d

15

16

lip-pat-1'U ap-nu-u-a lim-ma-sa-a ~i-~a-tu-ru-al e'-il-ti lip-pa-~ip ka-ai-ti li-ip-mu

17

ta-ni-~i-ia

18

lu-us-~u-u~ lum-ni MUSEN ana AN-e li-se-li

19

i-dip-ti KUs lit-bal li-bil iD

20

lim-~up-an-ni

U.DAR.MU nap-li-si-in-ni-ma Tl-e un-ni-ni-ia

lit-ba-lu ai-bit IM.tlI.A

nam-mas-su-U sa EDIN:

li-mia-au-in-ni A.MES iD DU.MES 21

nu-mip-an-ni-ma GIM GU KU.GI

22

ki-i lu-lim-ti el-me-si IGI-ka lu-qip

23

dup-pip lum-ni u-quP zI-ti:

24 25

lu-us-quP ki-sal-la-ka-ma du-ut-ka lu-mid it-ti lum-ni su-ti-qa-an-ni-ma lu-un-ni-'rip it-ti-ka sub-pa-an-ni-ma MAS.GEs SIGs-tu lu~/-~ul/

26

MAS.GE6 a-na-~a-lu lu-u SIGs-at: 142

MAS.GE 6 a-na-ta-lu lu-u GI.NA-at 27

MAS.GE6 a-na-ta-lu ana SIGs-ti tip-pa

28

dMa-mU DINGIR sd MAS.GE 6 .MES ina SAG.MU lu GIN-an

29

su-pi-ba-an-ni-ma a-na t-sag-il E.GAL DlNGlR.DINGlR E TI.LA 30 a-na dAMAR.UTU pi-me-ni-i a-na ~IG5-tim a-na SU Il SIGs.MES piq-dan-ni 31

lud-lul nap-bi-ka lut-ta-'-id DINGIR-ut-ka

32

UN.MES URU.MU li-se-pa-a qup-di-ka

33

[ina maJ-l(!aPj li-Uj lUNj.MES lid-lCu-lu-kaJ

Variants Obv.7' 7'-8' 8' 9'

10' 11 ' Rev.13

A: daJ-lat B inserts [ ..... me-~uJ-u a-pi/-mu tam-t[im ..... J A: A. MJ ES 1'U-qu-ti A: SU.SU-an-ni entire line omitted by B B: 1'U-qJa-an-ni c: tu-pa-as-sap

22

c: c: c: c: c: c: c:

23

C: na-pis-ti

25

instead of this line C gives: [si-man-ni-ma sJi-mat

15 16 17 19 20 21

~i-~a-tu-u-a

U-ip-ma 7 IM.MES

lit-tab-bal li-bil qe-e-pi c: a-li-ku-u-ti ki-ma qe-e el-mJe-si-ma C: lu-me-da

ba-la-~i / [UD.MES.MU up-piJ-ka ba-[laJ-~u qi-'i-M,

cf. JNES 33 [1974J 276:52f. for the restoration of this standard phrase. 26 27

dam-qat C: MIN ana SAL.SIGs-tim

28

C: ina i-di-ia lu ka-a-a-an

29

C: EJ-sdp-pa

C:

C: ba-la-~i

143

30

c: ana!

31

C: lu-ut-ta-'-id

instead of the third a-na

3

4 5

Obverse

6 7

8

my] mind [is worried] . I ] pr[ay . . . • . ] [ •. ] much [ . • . ] I am treated li[ke an irreverent]; I am unable to lif[t my] face [to the light]. x [ . . . . . • • • • . . . •• I have not] been taught. The door of the boat has [been thrown into the s]ea, [I] myself lie in deep waters. The bo[at . . . • ], a fierce [wind] keeps caps1z1ng me. I have indeed transgressed the instruct[ions of . • . . . ] [The beach] is far from me, the dry land is remote from me; [the ship is str]anded [on a] mountain, I have come close to dying. [My god] deprived [me of . . . . . . . ]x he forgot me. I was in great straits like a bird in [a cage]; I could not make up [my mind], my words were each time different. I do not comprehend the deliberations [I] spoke [with my] own mouth. Sickness has [deprived me] of my pleasant mood. My health is carried away, my good looks have been disfigured, my good Genius and my good Fortune stand aloof from me, my family has left my sight. I lie prostrated in the sorrowful place for mourning. Friends and comrades are continually annoyed with me; my fellow citizens are continually annoyed with me. I transgressed the borderlines of the god, and (now) I suffer oppression. [Inst]ead of bread I ate trouble (and) grief; [inst]ead of choice beer I drank water of oppression and tears; [inste]ad of choice beer I drank bitter water; instead of a garment I am clad with a hea[vy] sin. I have become gloomy like a jackal, [my] joyful and beaming appearance has become dark, What do I know? Who could advi[se] me? Both the senseless and [the sen]sible keep experiencing mis[fortune]. In order that they might be free from carrying he[avy lo]ads and tr[ea]ding the clay the g[ods fashioned mankind]; in order not to forget x[ • . . • . . . . . . . ], in order to hear and to answe[r • • • • • . • • ]. The works to a joke? [ • . • . . .•.• ] How will they learn the wi[ll of the gods in heaven]?

l' [ 2' [

3'

4' 5' 6'

7' 8'

9' 10' 11'

12'

13' 14' 15' 16' 17' 18' 19'

20' 21' 22' 23'

24' 25' 26' 27' 28' 29'

30' 31' 32' 33'

34' 35'

9

10'

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

20

21 22

What do I know? What I have [done I do not know]; Let them declare to me the deeds I [unwittingly] committed. Let the water drawer [fill my han]ds with pure water of the god and I will visit the shrine of [the great go]ds. Turn to me, 0 gods, hear [my address], [be] ve[ry attentive] to my sorrowful cries! My ireful god, [tu]rn [your face] to me! My goddess full of fury, accept my prayer! Accept my prayer, let your mind come to rest! My forgiving lord, merciful [Ma]rduk, everything (evil) ... of which you hear you dispel; my god, absolve, have mercy! My goddess, look kindly upon me, accept my prayer! Let my of~ences be absolved, let my sin be forgotten, let my gU11t be cancelled, let my bond be loosened. Let the seven winds carry away my troubles. I want to strip off my evil, that a bird may take it up to heaven; let a fish carry away my distress, let the river take it along; let the animals of the open country take it from me; let the running waters of the river cleanse me. Make me as resplendent as a gold thread, that I may be as precious before you as a lulimtu made of

elmesu-stone. 23

Expel my evil, protect my life; I will guard your courtyard and stand near your holy chamber. 24 Save me from evil, by you may I be rescued! 25 Grant me a vision, that I may have a favourable dream; 26 may the dream I have be propitious; may the dream I have be reliable; 27 the dream I have make it favourable! 28 Let Mamu, the god of dreams, be constantly by my head. 29 Make me enter into Esagil, the temple of the gods, the house of life! 30 Entrust me for my good to friendly hands, to merciful Marduk! 31 I want to praise your greatness, I want to extol your divine power. 32 Let my fellow citizens proclaim your valour! 33 Let the people [praise you] bef[ore] lthe godsJ! Commentary

Obverse 6' J. Nougayrol, Vg. 5 [1968] 270 proposes to restore sa-[la-ti ana qudd~di] la-ma-dan-ni, analogous to Vg. 5 [1968] 267:9' hu-rat

kimti a-na qu-ud-du-di la-ma-dan-ni, "mes parents les plus proches me prechent de m'incliner." W. von Soden corrected the reading of the latter line into pak-rat (= pahrat) kimti a-na ku!-ud-du-di la-ma-dan-ni (= lam adanni), "myWclan is gathered

Rev. 1 Who [has ever received] immortality from the god? 2 Who has ever heard the command of the [goddess]? 144

145 ,

, /

(g) A divinatory ritual including a demand for another pair of protective deities

to rub (the corpse) with ointment before the time (of death)" (UP 1 [1969] 191). J. Nougayrol's conjecture is, furthermore, invalidated by the traces on BM 72012. . . The insertion of kibri is suggested by ZA 61 [1971] 52:50 k~br~ 11 ' rUqsu nesis naba[lu]. B might have read [kib-ri ru-q]a-an-ni

Al though the text presented below cannot be called penitential in the strictest sense of the word, its singular character justifies its treatment in this appendix. The regular diagnostic introduction is followed by prayers to Samas and Girra, i.e., the deified solar disc and the god of fire respectively. They are considered each other's colleagues, the latter taking the place of the former when night falls. Both are sent to the personal deities of the sufferer with the commission to find out what has been the harm committed by the individual that has provoked the divine anger. Apart from a reply delivered in a nightly vision (cf. line 26), the text mentions a rather singular divinatory method, namely the inspection of ashes. During these procedures the diviner (barU) is to co-operate with the ritual expert (asipu), cf. lines 75-78. In a third prayer, addressed to "the gods who establish the course of the land", the suppliant takes a different line; his previous efforts having perhaps not brought the desired amelioration, he now wants to be entrusted to a different pair of protective deities. In accordance with the demand the prayer stresses the power of the gods to change situations.

na-ba-lu ne-s[a-an-ni]. 12 ' For ikteru napist? cf. BWL 245:47. in 14 ' AHw 740b S.v. naprusu S 3 proposes to interpret this l~ne bitija analogy with MVAG 13 [1908] 215:17, a bilingua~ hymn, ~na k?ma issuri u-sap-ris-an-ni, "he made me fly 1n my house like a bird": Since the verb, when read as usapris, lacks the necessary object, the reading usapsaq is to b: pr~fe~red. F~r the simile cf. P. Rost, Tigl. III pI. 22:9, k~ma ~~~ur qupp~ esirsu' Luckenbill, Senn. 33:27; EA 74:46. 18 ' Cf. A.' Schott, Die Vergleiche in den akkadischen Konigsinschrtften (= MVAG 30) [1925 (Leipzig 1926)] 100 note 2. 19' Cf. W. von Soden, BagM 3 [1964] 153. ., 25' KAS • DIN = kurunnu; sikaru. 31 ' For ~i~~a kabasu cf. W.G. Lambert, Atra~as~s p. 60:252. Cf. also Nah. 3,14b. , ., 32' This line may contain a reference to W.G. Lambert, Atra~s~s I 215-217 II 228-230, cL also J. Bottcho, "La creation de l'homme et sa nature dans le poeme d'Atrahasls" in Societies and

Texts

Languages of the Ancient Near Eas,t. Studies in Honour of I.M. Diakonoff [Warminster 1982] 24-32, esp. 26ff.; cf. also WdO 3

A B C D E

[1964] 69-70 and note 82. 34' na-mu-tu for mamUtu, ':joke, jest", cf. CAD Nil s.v.~ ~HW s.v. translates "VerhCihnung·'. The verb namum (common Sem1t1C root nm, "to sleep, to doze"), assumed by AHw 729b, is nowhere attested to, cf. CAD L 75b 5.

Reverse

lunna~ir

K.2583+10409 K.9453 (previous copy BA 5 670f. )

1-95 11-27; 66-83 14-27; cf. also for 1-13; 71-77 12-31 30-67

[DIS NA ur-ra] u [GEs i-na-ziq GIG.MES-su ma-'a-du]

. 9 For suhhira pan?ka cf. JNES 33 [1974] 276:48. 13 The readings of H. Zimmern, op.cit.: umu itesur ana mutum pas~~, "Der die Lebenszeit lenkt, dem Tode Einhalt tut", cf. p. 102, ,and of M. Jastrow, op.cit. "Der die Lebenszeit leitet, de~ Tod besanftigt", are proved erroneous by LKA 29k. The text 1S apparently corrupt. Read perhaps mim!-ma sumt-su t -a-tu.L

E

~ir-~d3

9 10 11 I

A.GA.NU.TI.LA ~e-ne-et-ta

B: -BA-a

222 Cf. KAR 384:8

2

[~a]

B:

u]m-~a-a-ta

DIR DIR DIR DIR DIR DIR

234 BRM 4 24:62, cf. Labat, CB § 16; Lev. 14,3; Num. 12,10-15.

235 AfO 18 [1957-58] 66:44f.: awilwn ifu itti iliifu sakip / itti awiluti sakip. 236 See D.J. Wiseman, Vassal-Treaties 419-421; BIIM 4,50 Rev. 10'-12'; J.N. Postgate, Neo-Assyrian Royal Gmnts and Decrees (= Studia l'ohl: Series Maior I) [Rome 1969] PI. 23a Rev. 2-4 (cf. B. Menzel, Assyroische Tempel II (= Studio Pohl: Seroies Maior 10/Il) [Rome 1981l no. 67).

e-ne~ [E]

GAL GAL GAL GAL GAL GAL

E] E] e-[ne8 E] e-[lIeif E] e-[ne8 e-[ne~

237 R.D. Biggs, "Babylonien", op.cit. 99. 238 Cf. D.R. HiIlers, Treaty-Curoses 15f.; K. Watanabe, "Die literarische Uberlieferung eines babylonisch-assyrischen Fluchthemas mit Anrufung des Mondgottes Sin", Acta Swnerologica 6 [1984] 99-119.

Kl.tl[UL] 3

Cf. CAD M/2 281a

239 BRM 4 49 Rev. passim.

ner-da-a malu

223 R.D. Biggs, History of Science 8 [1969] 101.

240 Malku IV 62ff.

224 Akk. epqennu, epqu, gcrabu, gcra/ju, girgiififu, girrt/jallu, ~pu, ~ariisu, k~bifu, lam/jat (hilati), qummanu (SbTV 11 51 Rev. 4), SA~R.AN, sa~arifubbu, /jennetwn, /jiriptu • aanahu; Hebr. gariib, lJ~r~s, jall~p~t, nrispalJat, 'opaUm, /jam'at, helJ!n a~d the ·symptoms 'aba'bu'St (Akk. bubu'tu), baMr~t, sappalJat and de·et. The list is not exhaustive and suffers from the difficulty of distinguishing between disease and symptom. The identification of these names with various known diseases has caused considerable difficulty. From the huge amount of literature on the subject can be mentioned H. 1I01ma, Kleine Beitmge awn

241 2 Sam. 3,29.

17: Hma na~lapti,

cf.

Hma ~ubati in BBS no.

11

III 3 and

242 V.14; cf. Deut. 25,9; Is. 50,6; Job 30,10. 243 Immersion as a means of medication for "leprosy" does not seem to have been unconventional. LKA 73: 16 speaks of a leper (garoballu) who is immersed (~ebu) into the river (narou). According to a Rabbinical tradition there was no qam'at in Babylon "because they eat beet (tomatoes?), drink beer and bathe in the waters

195

194

\

f..' ....

,~

!

of the Euphrates" (bKet 77b).

261 Hinke, Boundary Stone 60f. d and f: l'iksu la patiro.

me

244 2 Kings 5. The impurity of "leprosy" is underlined by the repeated use of the verb ~hl' in connection with the recovery of Naaman, and Elisha' s refusal to see the leper personally (cf. v. 10).

262 Cf. CAD A/I 144a lex.; Streck, Aab. 11 108 IV 60 maluti; AfO 18 [1957-58] 76 Sm.322 Rev. 10-11 sa A DIR; TCS 4 [1970] 213:37 mali mt!. 263 The "giant" baby (A.KAM) is the fruit of coitus with a sinful man, i.e., a leper or "one filled with water" according to the commentary, TCS 4 [1970] 38:69 and 213:34-37.

2452 Chr. 26,16-23; cf. 2 Kings IS,S. 246 See Ch. 2 § 12.

264 AfO 18 [1957-58] 76 Srn. 332 Rev. 10-11. 15-16; MDP 2 109 VI:41-VII:4; CT 40, 1:6-11 dupl. CT 38, 30:20-25 etc. TCS 4 [1970] 213:36-37 suggests an affinity between the leper (gal'biinu) and the dropsical patient.

247 RA 23 [1926] 148 no. 28:21-22, cf. 6. 10f. epqa mald~ / usa~m ana mu~~ija la teqel'l'ib. On the b.asis of MSL 12 [1969] 166:.27~: LU.SAJ!AR.SUB.BA ~,sa epq~m mala and the Eth. abaq one can defend the proXImIty between epqu and leprosy. Cf. CAD E 246; AHw 230b; Holma, op.cit. 3f. In JNES 15 [1956] 142:46' and Suppu IV 8 read ep-iJu t , "evil machination".

me,

265 sa al'nam isa = mali TCS 4 [1970] 213:37. For this commentary cf. J. Bottero, Annuail'e EPHE IVe section 1972-73 [Paris 1973] 122 note 3.

248 Cf. the equation between gal'biinu "leper" and kamz1, "a fettered man", ZA 47 [1941-42] 244 Rev. 3; W.G. Lambert, AfO 17 [1954-56] 315 commentary E'; BRM 4 32:7; UET 4 57:6; see CAD G 50a sub gal'biinutu. In MSL 12 [1969] 166:272ff. the leper (sa epqam mala, 274) is preceded by two categories of prisoners (sa Ilibittim, 272 and sa maqqal'tim, 273) and followed by the "enemy" (nakl'Um, 275f.), the pledge (sa qiitii tim , 279), the thief (sal'l'iiqum, 281) and the robber (~abbiitwn, 282), presumably all persons held in custody.

266 Malku IV 62f. etella

=mala

mt!, annu. Cf. CAD E a.v. etilla lex.

267 KAR 212 II 25f.: "If on the fifteenth day he makes a tomb: he will be taken ill with dropsy and will not be buried." 268 CL § 8. 269 Cf. J. Preuss, op.cit. 190.

249 MDP 2 109 VI:44-VII:4; BRM 4 24:6If. 270 2 Sam. 3,29. 250 D.J. Wiseman, Vassal-Tl'eaties 419-421; cf. W.J. Hinke, A New Boundal'Y Stone of Nebuchadl'ezzal' I fl'om Nippul' [Philadelphia 1907] 64f.; CAD K 123a kamitu A b 2'; A[O 8 [1932-33] 20 IV 4-6.

271 For a useful though slightly antiquated survey of opinions see J. Doller, Die Reinheits- und Speiaegesetze des Alten Teatament [Munster Lw. 19171 59f. J. Preuss, op.cit. 410 defends the traditional identification with gonorrhoea. Cf. also B. Baentsch, HKAT 1/2 [Gottingen 1903] 376 and K. Elliger, IIAT 1/4 [Tilbingen 1966] 197.

251 MDP 2 109 VII 3-4. 252 Lev. 13 ,46; Num. 5,1-4; 2 Kings 7,3.

272 J.V, Kinnier Wilson, "Medicine in the Land and Times of the Old Testament", op. cit. 358, cf. C.W. Goff in D. Brothwell and A.T. Sandison (eds.), Diseaaes in Antiquity [Springfield, Ill. 1967] 279-294, but cf. in the same volume R. Harve, 128 and H. Sussmann, 215. When true gonorrhoea did emerge it was likely to be identified with z~b; that is why the LXX rendering cannot be altogether rejected. The issue focuses on the question of when the venereal disease reached the ancient Near East.

253 2 Kings 15,5; 2 Chr. 26,21 (kettb : ha~opsut); LXX: en oikoi affouaoth; Vu Ig. : in domo libera seorsum (2 Kings), in domo separata (2 Chr.). LVT 323a adopted A. Klostermann's suggestion to emend to bebt!toh ~opstt, "in his house exempt from duties" (Die Biichel' Samuelia und del' Kiinige [Nordlingen 188]] 444); HAL 328b abandoned the reconstruction, probably because the archaic possessive suffix, though in use until the exile, is somewhat surprising. W. Rudolph, ZAW 89 [1977] 418 renders the expression as "Haus der Freiheit" and proposes that it should be understood as a euphemism for lifelong seclusion. The parallel with the Ugaritic bt ~p~t (1/ j1'dm '1'11, C.H. Gordon, UT, Glossary no, 995; J. Aistleitner, Wiil'tel'buch del' Ugal'itiachen Sproche [Berlin 1974] no. 1071) is hardly illuminating.

273 J,V. Kinnier Wilson, "Hedicine in the Land and Times of the Old Testament", op. cit. 358. 274 Lev. 15,25ff.

254 MS/, 12 [1969] 166:265: LU E.KUs.DA a sa biti pal'ai; in ARM 10 130:4. 6 a woman suffering from a "contagious (1) disease" (cf. ARM 10 14 and 129) is ordered to remain in a bitum pal'aum, a "separated house/room".

275 See Ch. 2 § 12.

255 Cll L (Rev. XXVII) 41-63, cf. Ch. 2 note 272.

2771'aq le'et ziqniit~ ~iiliih '~t rog ldW , I Kings 15,23. Cf. Ex. 4,25; Judg. 3,24; Is. 6,2; 36,12 qel't! (mt!lnt! roglt!h~m, "water of their feet", for st!nt!h~m, "their urine") .

256 C1' 6,

17 V 20, cf. UF 10 [1978]

142 no. 6:5; see AfO 27 [1980] 429b

276 1 Kings 15,23; 2 Chr. 16,12.

a.v.

lJa~al'subbU.

278 2 Chr. 16,12.

257 Mislla, Ket. VII 10; cf. J. Preuss, op.cit. 400f. 279 Mark 5,25ff.; Luke 8,43ff,; cf. Mt, 9,20ff. 258 For umqiitu see AfO 18 [1957-58] 66:11-16; for epqu see TCS 4 [1970] 66:4 (a Swrrna izbu IV 4), see also note 247; TCS 4 [1970] 67:11-15 (a Swrrna izOO IV 11-15) enumerates various other epidermic abnormalities (note the use of KUR = nakil', "is disfigured").

280 Cf. Ex. 15,26; 2 Chr. 16,12. The LXX emphasizes the issue by reading iatl'oi (l'Ope'Cm) for l'epii'£m in Is. 26,14 and Ps. 88;11. In this respect it foreshadows the Rabbinical traditions where l'epii'Cm and l'Ope'Cm are regularly brought in connection with polemical intentions. This agreement confirms the view according to which the LXX is the product of a "proto-rabbinical" movement rather than of the hellenized Jewry, cf. L.H. 8rockington, "Septuagint and Targum", ZAW 66 [1954] 80-86; F, Stummer, "Die lateinische Bibel vor llieronymus und das Judentum", ThGL 19 [19271 198f. For further literature see VT 30 [1980] 3 note 16.

259 MDP 6 pi. 10 VI 14; TUM 2-3 [Leipzig 1938] 8 (= HS 452):26-27. l60 R.D. 8iggs, History of Science 8 [1969] 102.

197

196 ,I

1

I"I

281 Cf. J.V. Kinnier Wilson, I~q 18 [1956] 130f.; his conclusions are confirmed by RA 73 [1979] 167:22 eniUna a~ipu ana bh marl/i illaku DUB.l.KAM e[~]r S[A.GI]G. The series is mentioned in KAR 44:6.

302 CL J.V. Kinnier Wilson, "Medicine in the Land and Times of the Old Testament", op.cit. 349 and note 36.

282 SbTU I 39:9' rikis murl/u =

303 Passim in the series. For a transcription see F. Notscher, Or 31 [1928], 39-42 [1929], 51-54 [1930]. A new edition is being prepared in Philadelphia.

nap~r

murl/u.

283 J.V. Kinnier Wilson, "Medicine in he Land and Times of the Old Testament", op. cit. 351; cf. BWL 44: 108 SA.GIG-ki-ia i~~utu ma~ma~~u, "my symptoms surprised the incantation priest".

284 BAM 393; TLB 2, 21; UM 2/2 no. 104. Cf. also the Boghszkoy texts mentioned by R. Borger, HKL III 97; R. Labat, "Une nouvelle tablette de pronostics m~dicaux", Syria 33 [1956] 119-130 gives a Middle Babylonian text. For other Middle Babylonian texts see BAM 394-399; see also note 20 for Sumerian antecedents. 285 Many commentary texts have been found in Uruk (Warka), see SbTU I nos. 27-33. 36. 38-39. 41-42; cf. J.-M. Durand, "Un commentaire A TDP I, AD 17661", RA 73 [1979] 153-170. 286 J. Bott~ro, "Les noms de Marduk, l'~criture et la 'logique' en M~sopotamie ancienne", Essays on the Anoient Near East in Memory of Jaoob Joel Finkelstein [Hamden, Conn. 1977] 5-28; Ld, "La cr~ation de l'homme et sa nature dans le poeme d'Atrabasls" in Sooieties and Languages of the Anoient Near East. Studies in Honour of I.M. Diakonoff [Warminster 1982] 24-32. His treatment of the speculations on et'e/1l11U can now be enriched by a reference to SbTU I 49 Rev. 36f. where et'e/1l11U is explained as qabu (E) t'emi. 287 Cf. J.-M. Durand, RA 73 [1979] 168-170. 288 CL A. Cavigneaux, "Remarques sur le commentaire A TDP I", JCS 34 [1982] 236. W.G. Lambert, AfO 17 [1954-56] 311 stressed the distinction between the linguistic and the exegetical exposition, corresponding respectively to the pe6at' and aerii6 of Rabbinic literature. He suggested that "it would be very interesting to investigate whether the mists which hide the origin of the Midrash can be cleared sufficiently to decide if there is any debt to Babylon" (ibid.). 289 Cf. H.W.M. de Jong, "Medical Prognostication in Babylon", Janus 48 [1959] 252257, esp. 253.

304 W.G. Lambert At~hasis p. 66 I 360ff. shows that the disease inflicted on mankind by Enlil ~as executed by the "hand" of Namtar, cL 68: 384. 399. The issue concerning "the meaning of qat DN is confused by such designations as SU.NAM.ERiM.MA, SU.DINGIR.RA, SU.dINNIN.NA, SU.GIDIM.MA and the like, which are clearly used as names of diseases (cf. e.g. SbTU I 43) to be treated by bult'u, remedies, according to KAR 44 and similar texts. The qat DN constructions of TDP are best understood in analogy with the expression NiG':'su ~ 6a qati, "committed to the charge of, under the responsibility of" (cf. ZDMG 69 [1915] 496; JCS 25 [1973] 125 note 9; WZKM 65 [1973] 32 note 63. 45; D.O. Edzard, Tell eq-Der ~Munchen 1970] 241; ~fO 27 [1980] 11). See e.g. Or NS 32 [1963] 384:19 : LU KI.DIM l1a-bi-is-su KI.DIM 6u-u qa-ti a-bi-i-6u, "the man has been seized by a ghost; his father is responsible for the ghost in question."

305

Rima~

no. 65, cf. BiOr 35 [1978] 211a.

306 1.12, cf. 11.15f.

307 KTS 24 = H. Hirsch, Altass.Rel. p. 71 no. 358, cf. RA 65 [1962] 193. For similar cases see KTS 25a (= H. Hirsch, Altass.Rel. p. 72 no. 389); tCL 4, 5 (= H. Hirsch, AZtass.Rel. 14b); cf. K.R. Veenhof, Sohrijvend Verleden [Leiden 1983] 86ff. nos. 5-8 and his commentary on the insights these letters convey about the "popular religion" of the day. 308 TDP 88:5, cf. 82:17; 60:46; 88:17; 170:19; 182:39a. See for the interpretation CAD E 294 s.v. erimmatu I c), but cf. CAD L 202a 3 a). 309 TDP 80:7; 222:48; 54:14; 88:19. 310 TDP 100:5, cf. CAD A/2 439b. Cf. SbTU I 34:18 and the severely damaged text BAM 66:7 : ••• NA.BI KU.BABBAR.MES ••. 311 Utar a66u bit sal-bit-tim irteneddUu, TDP 20:32f. Cf. for bit siibitim ARM I 28:17; RA 53 [1959] 177 Rev. 51 bitiit siibiiitim.

290 R.D. Biggs, "Babylonien", op.cit. 102. 291 Cf. J. Nougayrol, Semitioa 6 [1956] 5-14; U. Jeyes in B. Alster (ed.), Death in Mesopotamia (= RAI 28) [Copenhagen 1980] 117 sub D. 292 R.D. Biggs, "Babylonien", op.cit. 100f.; G. Pettinato, Olwahrsagung I 195-197. 204f. 293 Gilbert J.P. McEwan, "A Seleucid Augural Request", ZA 70 [1980] 58-69. 294 J. Nougayrol, Or NS 32 [1963] 384:19. 295 M. Leibovici, "Sur l'astrologie 244 [1956] 275-280.

m~dicale N~o-Babylonienne",

Journal Asiatique

312 MU a66at ameli, TDP 42:32; 56:16; 166:79; 170:15f.; MU KI NU GI • itti sinni6tu lcmiidu, TDP 134:37, cf. SbTU I 36:23f.; itti sinnUti ina majiiZi ka6id, TDP 28:91-95; 170:21-23; ana sikari u sinni6ti qiissu ubil, TDP 124:22.

313 ana a66at ameli

i(;~i,

TDP 160:32; a66at ameli ittanaJJak, TDP 114:38'.

314 ana ummi6u it'~i, TDP 58:25; ana a~ati6u i(;~i, TDP 108 IV 17. 315 enti iZi6u i86iq, TDP 62:19f.; ana enti UUu if~i, TDP 112:24'f.; 136:62.65. 66; 138:67. See also Ch. 2 note 206. 316 1'DP 8:25. 27; 10:29; 62: 15; 84:28; 140:58. 317 TDP 2:7; 124:22. 29.

296 Cf. the reference to the 6a'Uu, "dream interpreter" in BWL 32152.

297 W1U1IUdu, TDP 32:4. The construction probably implies that the deity "claims" the patient, cf. AbB 6 no. 144:8-9: awilum 6a dINANNA qati dINANNA eli6u U/1l11Udat. 298

ma~aqu,

TDP 80:8; 236:42.

318 TDP 36:29f., cf. SbTU I 37:22f. 319 AMT 100, 3:8. 15. AMT 100, 3 is part of a larger tablet devoted to foot diseases to which also AMT 74 belongs. The reconstructed text is referred to by F. Kocher as "K.67+". i~bassu, comm. nri.mma 6a eleppi ilteri[q •.. ], "He has stolen something from a ShlP; the god of the harbour has seized him", SbTU I 29:3'f.; correct TDP 28:87 (- JCS 2 [1948] 307:27) accordingly: [x1txJ[x]rxl SAG la gilMK ti6J-riq DINGIR ka-a-ri DIB-su •••

320 ina eleppi iiJriqj U kiiri

299 lapiitu, TDP 104110. 300 ka6adu, TDP 134:38. 301 TDP 88:18, but see CAD A/2 439b discussion.

198

199

321 ina saggasti ameZa usahniqma; aI'daniin rrdti i'iba8BU, "He had a man strangled in a massacre; the "double" of the dead man has seized him", TDP 88: 6; 92 :40. 322 CL also rwrmikiiti ikbu8, "He has stepped in dirty bath water" (TDP 142 IV 16'); Zu'atu, "uncleanliness" (TDP 92:28 /I 232: 16); qatii Zu'ati iZputiilJi, "unclean hands have touched her" (TDP 214:16). 323 See note 311. 324 [lJumrna ina I'a]palJtilJu

ma~i'i, TDP

108:17.

325 TDP 62: 19f.

353 TDP 180:25. 354 TUN.GIG, BAM 87: 17, cf. TDP 112: 15 (nllJl means "oaths"). 355 TDP 134:39, cf. the commentary SbTU I 36:25. 356 klma lJa marrdtu ika88UIJU, AMT 41, 1:33. For other texts about disorders caused by the mamltu cf. BAM 49; 50; 51; 52:39-44; 59:13-20; 87 Rev. 14ff.; 95:19f.; 124 II:34; 156: 1-3; 168:51H.; 174; 175; 201 :23'ff. 357 Ch. 3

326 TDP 112:24f.; 136:62. 63f. 65. 66; 138:67. 327 lJumma UI"U88U

352 BAM 95: 19; TDP 180:20.

~aniq, TDP

84:28.

§

6.

358 TDP 124 :22, cf. 29. 359 Cf. Ch. 3

328 lJumma Zibbl Zibbl ilJa88i, TDP 124:22. 29. 329 TDP 62: 15

: lJumma ZilJanlJu uqal'NlIJ. qarolJu means "to trim, to carve"; the meaning of the intensive stem (11) can be guessed, cL AHw 903a "zerbeissen".

2. 6.

§§

360 Cf. Ch. 2

13.

361 Cf. Ch. 3

4.

330 AMT 100,3:15 (see note 375).

362 2 Chr. 21,14-15.

331 AMT lOO, 3:8; TDP 142 IV 16'.

363 Cf. G.R. Driver, "Ancient Lore and Modern Knowledge", op.cit. 284: "severe ulceration"; J.V. Kinnier Wilson, "Medicine in the Land and Times of the Old Testament", op.cit. 364: "may have been dysentery"; J. Preuss, op.cit. 210: cancer of the rectum or Enteritis Membranacea.

332 TDP 140:58'. 333 For the consultation of a nab!' in a case of illness cf. 1 Kings 14, lH.; 2 Kings 8,7ff.; E. Gerstenberger, Del' bittende Men80h 134-139, esp. 135f.

364 Cf. Ch. 4

§

11.

336 Ibid. 182.

365 Ch. 3 § 6. The milJpa~ mBZukah, "the terms of the royal office", recorded in a written document (8epbl', 1 Sam. 10,25) were apparently updated and supplemented by clauses that determined the rights and duties of each new king. Upon his coronation the king and his people solemnly proclaimed the validity of the new rule (2 Kings 11,12).

337 Cf. MSL 9 [1967] 107-109.

366 Cf. 2 Chr. 21,2-3.

338 Cf. J.Z. Baruch, Janu8 51 [1964] 295f.

367 Cf. 2 Chr. 21,11.

339 TDP 124:28; 180:29f.

368 Cf. e.g. the enumeration in Deut. 28. For Mesopotamia the series Surpu can be consulted.

334 bNed 20a. 335 Cf. J. Preu9s, op.cit. f79.

340 TDP 180:28.

369 Ant. Ill, 11, 6: ten koiZian hydel'on kataZabollto8.

341 BAM 49:4'. 12'.

343 TDP 180:22-23.

370 D.J. Wiseman, VaBBaZ-T1'eatieB 521-523, cf. R. Dorger, ZA 54 [1961] 191. D.R. Hillers, T1'eaty-CUl'BeB 63f. notes the parallel with Jer. 8,14; 9,14; 23,15. See also A.C. Piepkorn, AS 5 [1933] 60, 62f" where aganutiZZu is pictured as the sanction of the breach of oath.

344 TDP 144:52'f.; 178: 19; 180:21. 26f.

371 Cf. Ch. 3 § 2 and note 36.

345 TDP 180:22f.

372 "Gula 3", LKA 20.

346 TDP 174 no. 21:2; 180:26f.; BAM 49:10'.

373 Obv. 20 [an]nulJu lma'd~~iratulJu "~'dU giZZ[atulJu ( ••• )], cf. 6-7.

347 TDP 178: 16.

374 AlIlJ 921 as. v.

348 TDP 178:16; 180:29f. 349 TDP 180:31f.

375 IJWIJ7I:1 mul''iu ina lJep ameli Zu ina ilJik ameli iZ1:ma i'rolJlJalJwna uqqaq, cL CAD I 251a. AMT 74 is part of a larger tablet devoted to foot diseases, to which also AMT 100 belongs. The reconstructed text is referred to by F. Kocher a9 "K.67+".

350 TDP 180:25. 26f. 29f.

376

342 TDP 180:29f.; BAM 49:4'. 9'.

1'U~ibtu qiZutu

MU.[NE], AMT 74 11 32.

351 TDP 180: 26f. 29(.

200

201

1

I

379 11. 6-19, cL Ch. 2 § 10.

402 G. R. Driver, "Ancient Lore and Modern Knowledge", op. cit. 283 assumes a textual corruption and emends ~lh into ~Z', "to be gangrenous", adding that this was a "lingering case". His opinion is opposed by J.V. Kinnier Wilson, "Medicine in the Land and Times of the Old Testament", op.cit. 364, who proposes "senile gangrene at the end", the outcome of a basicallY vascular trouble. P. Humbert, RHPR 4"4 [1964] 13 tentatively suggests dropsy.

380 Cf. 1. 6: [mamit] gilZat tuptu mas'altu

403 AMT 74, 11, 34ff.

377 line 5. 378 Cf. Iraq 19 [1957] 41:14.

381

CAD Q 252b proposes with some hesitation the meaning of "firewood" in 1. 32.

404 Cf. S. Sontag, Illneee as Metaphop [New York 1979]

382

AOAT 34, 61 :25-34; 67: 1'-10'; cL "Marduk 18" in the UFBG catalogue.

405 Ps. 127,3.

383 Scheil, SFS no. 2:4-9:

406 Kallah Rabbathi 52a, see A. Cohen (transl.), The Minop Tractates of the Talmud

anaku Samassumuk~n map ilisu anhu sunuhu sudZupu apadka sa~ummu dannu li'bu iqbatanni iptedanni (.".. J unnisu kal awnPija muPqu Zemnu pitkuBU ittija ana epsi an~u[te na]dakuma asaBe~ka. 384 Cf. AHw 551b, n.b. especially CAD L 181a lex. and discussion on 182a. The possibility cannot be excluded that CH § 148 refers to a skin disease rather than to a "fi~vre maligne", cL A. Finet": LAPO 6 [1973] 92. 385

BAM 147 and 148 deal with treatments against li'bu and high fever.

386 For a survey of the relevant psalms see § 3 of this chapter. 387 1 Sam. 25,37.

II [London 1965] 430; cf. J. Preuss, op.cit. 479. 407 E.I. Gordon, SP 1.160. 408 Cf. for this idiom R. Harris,

I~q

38 [1976] 132 note 13.

409 R.D. Biggs, SA.ZI.GA. Anoient Mesopotamian Potenoy Incantatione [Locust Valley 1967], cf. HKL II 14f.; SbTU I 9. 10. 410 Cf. Maqla I 99;

(=

TCS 2)

KAR 80 Rev. 28.

411 Cf. W. Farber, BID 236:4; BAM 232 I 17'. a~na, "If the beard on the man's god (and) goddess are irate

412 summa amelu siimt letesu isahhuh : amelu sa iZsu iBtapsu a man's cheeks thins out e;~e;dingly: (with him)", CT 23 35148.

388 2 Kings 1.

413 Ct. e. g. the references to hair and baldness in T. s. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock".

389 2 Kings 20,1-11, esp. 7; cL Is. 38,21. The reference to the remission of sins (Is. 38,17c) shows that the disease was considered retributory.

414 Cf. BWL 116:3-4: on account of a man's false oath "his wife will never have a

390

Kings 17,18.

415 BAM 240 Rev. 70'.

391

Sam. 12,15ff.

416 UFBG 458:19' supkinrna sWna u sera lu pemu eiZ~t~, cL LAPO 8 [1976] 326. The prayer mentions her "bond" (kae~tu, 16') and the "inertia of [my blo]od" mungu sa dii[m~ja] 17'), while the ritual instructions predict the resolution of her "knot" (KA.KESDA • kiq:ruJ, BMS 30 Rev. 28, cL LAPO 8 [1976] 326 note 15.

392 2 Chr. 24,25. 393 2 Sam. 3,29.

80n",

394 F. Sommer, "Ein hethiti8ches Gebet", ZA 33 [1921] 98125-29.

417 UFBG 458: 16', et. LAPO 8 [1976] 326 note 11. On the topoe of barrenness in cuneiform texts see I.L. Finkel, AnSt 33 [1983] 76 and lit. mentioned there.

395 KBo 6, 34 11:42-111:1, cf. J. Friedrich, ZA 35 [1924] 182f. and note 1. For a translation see A. Goetze, "The Soldier's Oath", ANET 354.

418 Gen. 20,17-18.

396 S. Buber (ed.), MidraBh

419 Num. 5,11-31. According to Flavius Joaephus, Ant. Ill, 11,6 "the woman, if she were unjustly accused, conceived with child, and brought it to perfection in her womb."

Tan~uma

[Wilma 1885] maB'd 12: sn'dh k'sh.

R. Borger, EeaT'. p.99":55t.; CT 35, Reign of TukuZti-Ninib I [London 1904] Romer in Travele in the wopld of the Proofeeeop M.A. Beek [Assen 1974] 220L

397 Cf.

K.5234:4'; L.W. King, ReooNe of the 1 IV: 13; for other texts see W.H.Ph.

Old Tee tamen t. Studiee Proeeented to

It is not always easy to make out whether the texts speak of the cultic wearing of women's clothes by men or of an actual sex change. 398 Cf. D.R. Hillers, TPeaty-CuT'eee 66-68. 399 1 Kings 15,23

/I 2 Chr. 16,12.

421 2 Sam. 6,20-23. 422 Gen. 30,1; cL Gen. 16,2; Deut. 7,14. 423 Cf. 1 Sam. 1,6-7. The equivalent of the Hebrew qiiPiih is the Akkadian qeppetu, "second wife, rival", cf. CAD ~ 138a. 424 See 1 Sam. 2,5; Ps. 113,9; Job 24,21; cL Is. 56,3-5.

400 See § 6 of the present chapter. 401 S. Duber (ed.), Midraeh Tan~uma [Wilma 1885] mae'd 12; cf. J. Preuss, op.cit. 191.

202 202

420 Lev. 20,20. 21: 'aptrim jiimutu.

425 Cf. L. Kohler, Dep hebPaieohe Meneoh [Tubingen 1953] 35ff.

203

426 Cf. LAPO 8 [1976] 216f.; KAR 223; M. Stol, ZlJangerschap en geboorte bij de BabylonierB en in de Bijbel [Leiden 1983] 64ff.

450 See also Job 20,15. 18. 28. 451 Cf. Ps. 4; 49; 62; 73 etc. See for this subject Ch. 6 § 2.

427 TDP 208:89, cf. CAD A/2 296b. 428 SbTU I 39:7'-8': §a na~sate marllat = sinnUtu §a ina mereBu dLimU itanaTlr7lQMij cf. BAM 237; I.L. Finkel, AfO 27 [1980] 41f.; SbTU I 40.

452 In the Old Testament the positive appreciation of prosperity is mitigated by the awareness that possessions could become an independent source of strength and comfort, cf. Ps. 49,7; 62,11; Job 22,23ff.; 31,24f.

429 Cf. BAM 237 I 12'. IS'. 16'.

453 STT 247: 3 .

454 BAM 234:5; 326 118'-9'; 316 II 10' and par. 430 See Appendix § 1.

455 BAM 316 11 7'-8' and par.; 326 II 11'; STT 247:7; SbTU II 22 I 17. 18.43. 431 KUB 4,

The ritual mentions a 'fUn §erri (KUB 4, 18: 1), "her bed" (e-er-§[ i-sa], KUB 4, 17: 14) and the "untwi;ting of a string" (pitilta pasaru, KUB 4, 17:6), cf. Ch. 5 § 2. 17(+) 18.

456 S1'1' 247:6. 10; SbTU II 22 I 23-24, cf. BAM 316 II 7' and par.; STT 247:9f.;

SbTU II 22 I 17f.

432 KAR 74:1-7, cf. also LKA 119:18-19, it being assumed that the mourning rites allude to trespasses in the family of the sufferer. For a translation of LKA 119 see SANE III p. 19.

457 Cf. BAM 316 II 7'-8' and par.; STT 247:2; SbTU II 22 I 18. 34.

433 SIT 254 "Obv." 4-5.

459 Cf. Ps. 102,7-9 and § 3. For the subject of loneliness in the OT see H. Seidel, op.cit., cf. note 121.

434 AMT 72, 1:29f.: kasap ipterlja sinnisti 3ikari hlrtija assateja [mareja mara= teja] nadnuka, cf. ibid.: 5-6. For the. entire "ritual see E. Ebeling, ZA 51 [1955] 167ff.; LAPO 8 [1976] 454ff. esp. note 1. The custom has its secular counterpart in the ransom from guilt slavery. The use of a fixed amount of money to save a person or an animal from being executed or killed is also attested to in the OT, see Ex. 13,13. 15; 21,30; 34,20; Lev. 27,27; Num. 18, 15-17. 435 •aMi]' ha'1:iJ lipnD jhwh ... E. Lipinsky, Phoenix 28 [1982] 83f. suggests that Hiel sacrificed his sons as a foundation offering, in accordance with an accepted Phoenician practice.

458 Cf. § 3 and notes 121-124.

460 E.g. E. Ebeling, RA 49 [1955] 142ff. Assur-Photo 4131 22-26. 461 Mostly Ilaltu, see SIT 247:6, cf. CAD

~

(11

K.6362 unpub.) Obv.

87a, f.

462 CT 39 46:75: "If father and son get angry with each other: the curse has seized the family home". For the "generation gap" in Mesopotamia see S.N. Kramer, "Modern Social Problems in Ancient Sumer" in D.O. Edzard (ed.), GeselZschaftsklassen 118ff. Cf. also Ch. 2 § 3. 463 Num. 3,36; 4,16; 1 Chr. 24,3. 19; 2 Chr. 17,14.

436 2 Chr. 21,14. 17, cf. Ch. 4 § 8. 464 Job 29. 437 2 Sam. 12,13f. 465 1 Sam. 15, 20-35. Cf. also e.g. 1 Kings 16,1-7. 18-19. 438

Kings 17,18.

Treaty-Curses 61, for the related topic of "breaking the

439 Cf. L. Kohler, Del' hebraische Mensch 29.

466 Cf. D.R. Hillers, sceptre",

440 Cf. Ch. 5.

467 Is. 22,15-25.

441 The reI igious value of earthly goods is a recurrent theme in the ancient Oriental wisdom literature. See e.g. Zbynek Z~ba, Les maximes de Ptaqqotep [Prague 1956] p. 77:161ff.; E.!. Gordon, SP 2.22-34; Prov. 3,16; 10,22; 14,24; 22,4. Cf. also BWL 271:9 duqqu (= dumquJ sa il[ika],

468 See CAD N/2 3a, cf. YOS 10, 46 11 16f. (with bel parqim).

44l BAM 316 II 6' and par.; SbTU II 22 I 17. 42.

470 Cf. 1 Sam. 1,12ff., which text indicates that silent prayers were unusual. Ps. 3,5 seems to reflect the nonnal practice when it says: "I call aloud (lit. "with my voice") to the LORD".

443 BAM 234:2; 316 116' and par., cf. UFBG 499:59; 480:12-13; HGS no. 18:12. 444 BAM 234:2-3; 315 11 28-29 and par.; cf. HGS no. 18:13; JAOS 59 [1939] 13 Tarsus 8:9, cf. AHw 347a; cf. KAR 26:42 mentioning BAL AB.GU~1 besides ~iniq immeri.

469 SIT 95 IV 152: summa ameZu ana qibit ptsu la iL-su u iqammu

iZsu ittisu 3ini

471 aSl'i ili[su u] istal'isu la ife~~i, BAM 315 IV 38; Semitica 3 [1950] 10:19f.

445 BAM 234:3-4; S1'1' 254 "Rev." 23.

472 See Ps. 42,3. 5. 7; 43,3f.; 61,3. 5; Ps. 3,5 also indicates that the sufferer was at a distance from the sanctuary, cf. Jon. 2,5. 8.

446 CT 51, 147 Rev. 21.

473 Cf. the following description in an Old Babylonian letter:

447 Cf. e.g. G. Boyer, CIIJ 55 ~ HE 147; TCL I, 188; cf. R. Harris, "Old Babylonian Temple Loans", JCS 14 [1960] 126-137. 448 Cf. Deut. 28,17-19. 22-24. 38-40. 42; 2 Chr. 21,14. 17.

Ina narifim nadi[aku u] ina dimmatim u bikltim [ ... a]tasus ina altikija fUppi ana dInanna be[ltij~ aspur] ( ... J beltija lisaHma [ina s]imakkim mahar Inanna [l]issakinma [na~rtir] beZtija liksudannima. " (AbB 6, 135:4'-19', cf. R. Albertz, Pel'sonliahe Frorrmigkeit und offisielle Religion [Stuttgart 1978] 131f.)

449 Neh. 5,13.

204

205

I lay in a mire and in my distress I moan and cry. During my journey I sent a letter to Inanna my Lady; Let them read it to my Lady, let it be deposited in the shrine before Inanna, So that the help of my Lady may reach me. For literature on the letter prayers see R. Borger, "Gottesbriefe" in RLA 3; J.J.A. van Dijk, SSA 13-17; H.L. Ginsberg, "Psalms and Inscriptions of Petition and Acknowledgement", Louis Ginsberg Jubilee Volwne [New York 1945] 159-171; W.W. Hallo, "Individual Prayer in Sumerian: the Continuity of a Tradition", JAOS 88 [1968] 71-89; id., "Letters, Prayers and Letter-Prayers", Proceedings

of the Seventh World Congress of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem 1977) [I:] Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East [Jerusalem 19811 17-27; id., "The Royal Correspondence of Larsa. I. A

"I

489 Ps. 16,7b: 'ap lel6t jisser"Un£ kilj6taj; cf. Ps. 17,3. 490 Ps. 3. 4. 17; for an indubitable case see I Kings 3,4f.; 1 Sam 3 is reminiscent of the practice of incubation. 491 Cf. Les songes et leur interpretation (= Sources Orientales 2) [Paris 1959]. Pre-Islamic inscriptions show that a confession could be followed by a request for a dream in which the reconciliation with the deities was indicated, cf. J. Ryckmans, AION 32 [1972] 4. For the dream in the Old Testament see also E.L. Ehrlich, Der Tmwn im Alten Teatament (= BZAW 73) [Berlin 1953]; A. Resch, Der Troum im Heilsplan Gottes [Freiburg 1964].

Sumerian Prototype for the Prayer of Hezekiah?",

AOAT 25 [Neukirchen-Vluyn 1976] 209-224; id., "The Royal Correspondence of Larsa. Il. The Appeal to Utu", Zikir sumim [Leiden 1982] 95-109; H. Hirsch, "Akkadische Briefe an Gotter", Kindlers Litemtur Lexicon I [Ziirich 1964] cols. 325f.; F .R. Kraus, "Ein altbabylonischer Privatbrief an eine Gottheit", RA 65 [1971] 27-36; id., "Eine neue Probe akkadischer Literatur: Brief eines Bittstellers an eine Gottheit", JAOS 103 [1983] 205-209; A.L. Oppenheim, JNES 19 [1960] 133ff., esp. 143ff.; K.R. Veenhof, BiOr 28 [1971] 349-351; F. Ali, Sumerian Letters B 6. 7. 8. 16. 17; C.B.F. Walker and S.N. Kramer, "Cuneiform Tablets in the Collection of Lord Binning" no. 3, Iraq 44 [1982] 78-83, letter prayer to Nin~ubur.

492 Job 33,15-18. 493 Job 7,14. 494 Cf. § 3 of this chapter.

495 BAM 314 Rev. 8; 234:9. 496 pululJtu or pirittu; BAM 316 III 8 1/ 317 Rev. 13-15; cf. 316 III 13'-14'; 317 Rev. 16; STT 247:4; according to AMT 40,2:4f. the fright may even cause nausea.

474 Cf. the miktab of Hezekiah mentioned in Is. 38,9; the LXX rendering of miktam as st~logmfia could be taken as an indication that the ancient Israelites had recourse to letter prayers, cf. H.L. Ginsberg, op.cit. 169f.

497 BAM 316 11 5' and par.; SbTU 11 22 I 16. 42; JNES 33 [1974] 308 CBS 514 (= Lam-

475 Cf. 1 Kings 8,38. 44; Jon. 2,8; Ps. 3,5.

498 BAM 316 III 8 1/ 317 Rev. 13-15; cf. 316 III 13'f.; 317 Rev. 16; cf. 316 IV 3;

bert text n):10' INIM.INIM.MA swwna amelu niaiqtu irtanassi DINGIR.SA.DIB.BA. GUR. RU .DA.lKAMJ. 234:4; 316 119' and par.; SbTU 11 22 I 19.

476 Cf. BAM 234:5; 316 11 13' and par.; SbTU 11 22 I 23. 499

477 The psalms contrast God's remaining deaf and silent with hia "turning (to the suppliant) with the intention of helping (him)" (' iiniih, cf. C.J. Labuschagne, "'nh I antworten", THAT Il 335-341, esp. 336-338.

BAM 316 IV 3-4; AMT 7/1 11 4.

500 BAM 316 III 24'; VI4 and par.; 234:6-7. 501 BAM 316 IV 3-4; 234:9.

478

Sam. 28,6.

479

Sam. 14,37.

480

Sam. 14,38.

502 BAM 234:7. 503 BAM 234:6. 504 BAM 234:8; 316 VI 5 and par. 481 Cf. Mic. 3,5-7. 505

BAM 316 VI 5 and par.

482 BAM 234:8; 315 IV 37f.; 316 118' and par., cf. SbTU 11 22 I 19; 11143; IV 5;

BAM 315 IV 28 and par.: "to see good dreams"; STT 247:8; SbTU II 22 I 44. For literature consult A.L. Oppenheim, The Interpretation of Dreams in the Anoient Near East [Philadelphia 1956] and M. Leibovici, "M~sopotamie" in Les songes et leur interpniftation (= Souroes Orientales 2) [Paris 1959] 63-85.

506 BAM 234:6-8. 507 See § 3. Cf.Ps. 32,3-4. 508 2 Sam. 24,10, cf. 1 Sam. 24,6.

483 AfO 18 [1957-58] 64:31-32. 509 J. 484 Cf. §§ 2-3. Cf. also LKA 132:8-101 "What did I do to my god, how did I sin against my goddess? My god has grown angry with me, my goddess is irate with me; Explain to me (the cause of) my sorrow, that I may sing your praises." This is an incantation to be recited after a bad dream.

485 BAM 316 11 11' and par., cf. SbTU 11 22 144. 486 BAM 316 Il 9' and par.; STT 247:9; AMT 7/1 Il 5: amii.t ili u istari elisu ibas[sil.

Milgrom,

Consoienae

(=

Cult and Consaienae.

The Asham and the Priestly Doatrine of SJLA 18) [Leiden 1976] 3.

510 Ibid. 9-11. 511 Cf. 4,13. 22. 27; 5,2. 3. 4. Leviticus 4,3 uses the noun 'asmiih in a genitival construction, translated as "misfortune" by Milgrom, op.cit. 104. 512 Cf. R. Knierim, "'iisiim Schuldverpflichtung", THAT I 251-257. 513 Cf. Ex. 21,35-36 r#kt ... '6 n6da', "if ... but if it was known

487 BAM 315 III 7-8 and par.; cf. BAM 315 IV 27 and par.: "to make god and goddess open his (viz., the patient's) ears"; SbTU Il 22 I 22f. 45. 488 Cf. CT 40 pI. 35-37 and the pertinent namburbi Or NS 40 [1971] 170ff. no. 67.

206

207

1i

l'

~

Notes to Chapter 5

I

4 R2 10:42f.: NA.AM.TAG.GA NiG.AK.A.MU NU.UN.ZU.A I anni iipwJu ul idi, e1'sahunga to "any god" (DINGIR.DU.A.BI); cf. UFBG 468 si.8 Rev. [anni] iiteppusu;;niiku ul ilduJ; UFBG 535 DT 119+152:9; JNES 33 [1974] 274:29.

15 OECT 6 PI. 21 K.3153

(= MacMillan, BA 515, 8):15-18: E.NE NAM.KU.ZU NU SE.BI.DA enqu la isii~ gullultu [la ipus] I E.NE MU.LU URU.URU NU.UN.zE. ER.Z[E.ER] / iikiam sa ittalll'WTlCl la i[~~ellla]. Cf. also K.254+ Obv. 35'; Rev. 1-2 (see Appendix §3); AfO 19 [1959-60] 57:104ff.; SVT 3 [1955] 176:10Iff.:

tlUL,[~ .. ]liikimn

"Men of experience say a word true and fair: 'A child without faults? Never did mother give birth to such a one'."

2 Among the e1'sahungas: 4 R2 10:32-47; OECT 6 P1.25 K.3131 Obv. 1 5ff.; JNES 33 [1974] 288, K.5235; among the dingi1'sadibbas: JNES 33 [1974] 274:1 minu annija; 274:29 iima iipu'su ul idi; 278:71ff. mina iipus; 280: 114 TmA1'qi anni idU la idU; 284:10f. minu annu'a ... minu hi~iti; 284:16f. ~i~ sa iipusu u[l idi] / a1'ni sa ugaUilu u[z idi]; 286:7 ul Tdi gillati; 286:12 [guUuJlti [iip]usu aniiku ul hassiiku, 1 cannot remember the' transgression I 'did; K.254+ Rev. 3-4 (see Appendix §3); among the sigUs: UFBG 468 si.8 Rev. 7; KUB 4, 47 Rev. 23 [idu] la idu; UFBG 535 DT 119+152:9 [gillatU'a sa ana biili]ja iipusuma la idu: KUB 4, 47 Rev. 3. 13 ana idu la idU; among the general prayers of the su'ila type: LKA 139:27 [6]1'f_ ni idu u la [idu] , cf, W.G. Lambert, Bi01' 13 [1956] 146b; King, STC 11 pi. 75ff. BM 26187:67 mina iipus; BMS 11:18 [sa iipus]u meq~if'is idU la idu, cf. W, von Soden, Iroq 31 [1969] 83: KAR 23 1 22, cf. SFS pl.lI Si. 2:9; LKA 119:16f, la idu ~i~itu gilla[tu] sa issaknamma la idusu: SRT pi. XX K,8457+8926:20 guUultu iipusu ul idi; cf. also KUB 4, 17:7 gelZiJ.ti sa TTKI-da f la idu, "I do not know my sins which are numerous". Cf. for the presence of this theme in the Neo-Sumerian letter prayers W.W. Hallo, JAOS 88 [1968] 79a.

16 BMS 11:11 36-38.

11 AOAT 34,35:11 11 id. 38:7. See also BWL 86:257. 264 and Ludlul 11

17 Ludlul 11 34f.: sa damqat 1'amanus an~ ili gullultum / sa ana libbisu TmABBUkat

eli ili damqat. Cf. BWL 265 Rev. 7-8. 18 The insufficiency of man's moral judgment needs to be distinguished from the impenetrability of the divine direction of the world, as attested to in the Babylonian "Dialogue of Pessimism" and the Biblical book of Qoheleth. The latter texts stress man's incapacity to secure a happy life. Here we are concerned with man's failure to decide between morally good and morally evil. Cf. J. Bottero, RThph III 16 [1966] 7-24, whose conclusions need to be slightly modified in the light of the viewpoint set forth above. 194 R2 10:1-8, cf. LAPO 8 [1976] 139 note 4. Also JNES 33 [1974] 276:44f. (din=

gi1'sadibba) pictures the personal god as being beyond human reach.

3 sii~ ipusu la ide, RB 59 [1952] 242:13, cf. ·W. von Soden, O1'NS 26 [1957] 316.

20 SRT pi. 20 K.8457+8926:20f.: me'i~iroUti la mUdakuma gullultu iipusu aniiku ul idi

4 NAM.TAG.NU.ZU.A.TA ina a1'nim sa la iaa, VAS 17, 35 (= VAT 8345, cL CAD Al2 295a lex.; CAD E 48a lex. and CAD H 208b lex. "VAT 8435" is an error for VAT 8345. Cf. also A. Falkenstein, ZA 52 [1957] 328). Lines 1-4 of this text read "On account of an unknown sin, like one who has been neglectful of his god, instead of good things evil things (have befallen me ... )." The tablet seems to contain an exercise, the reverse being uninscribed. Recently F.R. Kraus published Ni. 13088, an OB letter to a deity, in which the sufferer complains biia ana sa la idaku elija isbuBma, "My Lord has grown angry with me for an unknown reason", JAOS 103 [1983] 205: 19L

/

qe~roakuma a~tati.

21 Cr. 'KAR 55:18f. [sa iipu]sa iBtu qe~ii1'ija [adi 1']abtja ii liksudanni jati; BMS 11: 18 /I AOAT 34, 35:3 [sa iipus]u me~~i1'is iaa la idu misima, "Disregard what I have done wittingly or unwittingly in my childhood": AOAT 34, 39:7'-8' offers an interesting variant: sa istu Umii qu-~u1'-i[a ... ] simiima, "[What I have done] since the days of my adolescence, pay attention to it", suggesting virtues instead of faults: cf. UFBG 115 note 93 and W. von Soden, Iroq 31 [1969] 83.

I I STT 55 :40f.: ina meq~roUtija TTKI-si-su-te/ti uBappt1 seMku ana kal iZiJ.ni peM upniija. CAD M/2 37a reads: ina meq~aroUtijaTTKI ES •• DAR-ti/te uBappa, a conjecture based on the supposed opposition between the adoration of

22 KAR 25: 11 f.

5 gelliiti sa TTKI-da! la idu; the woman suffers from intestinal pain (lUrmAn libbi), cf. Ch. 4 § 10 and note 431.

one god and the cult in honour of the complete pantheon. The signs do not support this reading. The singular term TTKIsisutu is probably related to the verb TTKIsiisu* (cf. K. Deller - K. Watanabe, ZA 70 [1980] 216-217). It refers to the restlessness of the adolescent, as contrasted with the substained devotion of the grown-up. "In my youth I prayed with ever fidgety hands, now that I am old my palms are (steadily) opened to all the gods." (K. Deller and K. Watanabe translate "in meiner Jugend hiitte ich (regelmiissig) beten sollen".)

6 The concept occurs already in Sumerian documents. cf. F. Ali, Sume1'ian Lette1'B p.92:8 SUL.A.LUM NU.ZU.E SAG.KI BA.GID, "A punishment, (the cause of which) I do not know, troubles me (lit.: "wrinkles (my) forehead")." Cr. the prayers in which allusions to the mystery of the specific sin are accompanied by general confessions of guilt, such as 4 R2 10 (e1'sahunga); JNES 33 [1974] 274:23ff. (dingi1'sadibba); UFBG 466-468; 535DT 119+152 1sigUB); KUB 4, 17: 7.

23 Gilgames 3, i,r: 10 qi?J1'iitima Gilgiimes libbaka nasika mimma sa tetteneppusu la

tidi, "You are young, Gilgame§, your enthusiasm carries you away, you do not 8 Cf. JNES 33 [1974] 288ff.

(e1'sa~unga)

and 278:71ff. (dingi1'sadibba).

realize what you

9 Cf. King, STC 11 pi. 75ff. BM 26187:67ff.; cf. also VAS 17, 35 (see note 4).

i~ti~mnma

in doing."

24 Cf. 4 R2 21*/2:34L: SA.AB.AS TAR.RA GAL DI.MA.AN.KUs.DA ana libbiBu i1'tasi robiti sa dini f'Qnimisu idinnu, "He who renders his own judgment has set his heart on things too great for him", cf. LAPO 8 [1976] 150; JNES 33 [1974] 282: 137 mentions the evil of undoing one's sin, upaHi1' a1'ni. cr. Surpu IV 5.

10 Cf. Ch. 4 § 7. 11 UM Ill, 2 1I 39a:

per~ist

alkGtasu.

25 ha~,

12 4 R2 10 Rev.29-34: NAM.LU.Ux.LU U.HUB.AM AM NU.UN.ZU amiilutu Bukkukatma mimma ul idi NAM.LU.Ux.LU MU.SA. DIR.AM- TE MU.UN.ZU mal SUrmA naba minu idi AG Bi.IN.tlUL AG BI.IN.SIGs AG NU.UN.ZU lu ugallil lu udammiq mimma ul idi.

"to be unfaithful, to be rebellious"; egu, "to neglect (one's duty)":

guUulu, "to conunit a crime". 26 CL JNES 33 [1974] 274:24-27 where the religious character of the offence is emphasized through the repeated use of the possessive suffix -ka,

13 Cr. Biofs 11:8-11. 14-15 /I AOAT 34,35:8-11. 14-15// id. 37:9-10// id. 38:5-7 11 id. 39:3'-4'.

27 H. Zimmern translated the tablet as a questionnaire in BBR 2ff,

14 JNES 33 [1974] 284 11:6 (dingi1'sadibba); JNES 15 [1956] 142:56' (lipsu1'-litany). CL Ps. 40,13 "My iniquities ... are more numerous than the hairs of my head"

28 JNES 33 [1974] 282:135ff.

(,aw,;notaj ... 'iiqemU midtfa 'a1'ot 1'o'st) ,

29 JNES 15 [1956] 136:82-95; 142:53'f.

208

209

r

.~,';'"

been preserved by the tradition. Nor is it absurd to assume that the enu~era­ tive protestations of innocence (cf. e.g. Job 31) or the so-called Torah LIturgies (Ps. 15; cf. Is. 33,14-16; Ez. 18,5ff.) were also used as "checklists".

30 Cf. Surpu HI; "Samd 78" in the UFBG catalogue. For similar lists see J. Bottero, Annuaipe EPHE 4e section 1976-77 [Paris 1977] 127. 31 LKA 139:24-27, see Appendix § 3,g.

32 CT 34 9 Rev. 38f.: anni

a~pZ ese~u

57 Job 13,23; cL 10,2.

ugaZlilu liqbUnimma anaku Zuttaqra.

58 Cf. Job 4,12fL; 33,14-18; Gen. 20,1-7; Ps. 51,8 may also refer .to a n~ghtly vision, since ~u~ot is often explained as "reins", see Job 38,36 In the Interpretation of Targum and the Rabbinical tradition, cf. BDB 376b. The "reins" or kidneys are considered the source of dreams, cf. Ps. 16,7b and Ch. 4 § 12.

33 Cf. Ch. 4 § 12. 34 Job 13,23 kammah Z£ ·awOnot we~~~'ot pis'£ we~~~'t£ hodi'en£. 35 Job 13,26b: t6P£sen£ 'awOnot ne·uraj.

Notes to Chapter 6

36 1 Kings 17,18 Zehazk£p '~t ·awOn£.

1 CL Ch. 1 § 2.

37 Ps. 19,13.

2 BWL 128:56; cf. L. Cagni, Eppa V 10.

38 The MT should be corrected to a plural, cf. LXX and the versions.

3 amat babban~tu u bi'iltu mala akanna asemmU, BIN damqu-maeku (see CAD M/I 325a).

39 Ps. 90,8b.

75:12-15; cf. also the pair

4 BWL 228 III 13-14, cL BWL 148:77 amup gulguZle sa apkuti u panuti, "behold the skulls of high and low".

40 Ps. 19,7c. 13b; cf. Hebr. 4,12-13. 41 CL also for the accidental sin Lev. 22,14; Num. 35,11. Josh, 20,3, 5. 9; Eccl. 5,5,

15; Deut. 4,42; 19,4;

5"H.H. Schmid, Wesen und GeBohiohte dep Weieheit. Eine UntePBuohung zup altopientaZieohen und ieraelitischen WeisheiteZiteratup (= BZAW 101) [Berlin 1966] 155.

42 The theme of the unknown and therefore apparently unwittingly committed sin is reflected in the NT in Luke 23,34; 1 Tim, 1,13. Hebr. 10,26 declares that also under the new covenant the deliberate sin cannot be atoned for, though the author's interpretation of this "deliberate sin" differs from the conception of the Old Testament (cf. verse 29).

6 H.H. Schmid, op.cit. 159, cL 163: "Die Zentrierung der Weisheit urn die antithetischen religios-anthropologischen Begriffe qifdd£q und rasa' ist ein Spezifikum israelitischen Weisheitsdenkens." CL also W. Zimmerli, "Zur Struktur der alttestamentlichen Weisheit", ZAW 51 [1933] 177-204 passim. H.H. Schmid, op.cit. 159-161.

43 Cf. Job 14,1 ff. Though the passsge focuses primarily on man as a frail and finite being, verse 4 connects this conception with the idea of his congenital impurity.

8 0, Keel, Feinde und Gottesleugnep. Studien awn Image dep Widepeaohep in den IndividualpsaUnen [Stuttgart 1969] 111 note 53.

44 1 Kings 8,46, cf. Prov. 20,9.

9 O. Keel, op.cit. lllff. esp. 113 note 58.

45 Cf. also Na, 1,6.

10 O. Keel, op.cit. 111 note 53.

46 Prov. 16 2 "All the ways of man are pure in his own eyes, but it is the LORD who test~ the spirits." CL also G. von Rad, Weisheit in Israel [NeukirchenVluyn 1970] 131 ff. "Grenzen der Weisheit".

Adkins, Moral Values and Politioal Behavioup in Anoient Gpeeoe FPOm Homep to the End of the Fifth Century [London 1972].

11 A.W.H.

12 Ibid. 19,

47 Deut. 30,llff. and 29,28. But cf. Job 11,7f., though this text is concerned with God's design rather than his demands.

13 570 B.C.: earliest coinage in Aegina, cf. A.W.H. Adkins, op,cit. 23. 48 CL Eph. 4,17-18, where "ignorance" (agnoia) is presented as the result of a "hardness of heart" (popoeie kapdiae).

14 A.W.H. Adkins, op.cit. 57.

49 See Gen. 8,21; cf. Is. 48,8; Jer. 32,30.

15 Ibid.

53.

tMoedota.

50 Eccl. 11,9.

CL

Hesiod,

Wopks and Days 320 who speaks of treasures that are

16 CL S. Daiches, "The Meaning of am ha-aretz in the Old Testament", JTS 30 [1929] 245-249; E. Gillischewski, "Der Ausdruck 'am hii'iirev im Alten Testament", ZAW 40 [1922] 137-142; E. Wilrthwein, Dep 'al7U7l ha 'apea im Alten Teetament (= BWANT 4/17 [1936]).

51 Job 13,26 'awOnot ne·uraj. 52 Ps. 25,7.

17 Cf. A. Menes, Die vopexilieohen Geestae Israsls im ZusQl7U7lenhang seinsp kultupgssohiohtliahen Entwiaklung (= BZAW SO) [Giessen 1928] 70f.

53 Josh. 7,19; Ps. 51,6; Dan. 9,7; cf. John 9,24. 54 hitwaddirh, Lev. 5,5; 16,21; 26,40; Num. 5,7.

18 Cf. E.W. Nicholson, "The Meaning of the Expression am ha'aP~1I in the Old Testament", JSS 10 [1965] 59-66. Cf. for a critical appraisal A.H.J. Gunneweg, /I'm h'PII - A Semantic Revolution", ZAW 95 [1983] 437-440, with whom I agree that "the two-words-term in pre-exilic time can mean the full citizens as the

55 Cf. Ps. 32,S ~affa't£ 'od£'aka, cf. also Prov, 28,13, 56 CL Ps. 7,4-6; 17,3-5; 18,21ff.; 26; 41,13 (cf. v.51); 59,4; 73,13; 120,7. It is not inconceivable that confession catalogues were in use, though none has

211

210

I'

state supporting upper class" (437).

44 Prov. 11,24-25: 14,31: 19,17: 28,27: 31,20.

19 CL J. v. d. Ploeg, "Le sens de gibbol' 120-125: TWAT II 906.

'Jail", Vivl'e et Pensel'

(=

RB 50) [1941]

20 J. v.d. Ploeg, "Les 'nobles' IsraoHites", OTS 9 [Leiden 1951] 49-64.

45 G. Fohrer, op.cit. 124. 46 N.B. Priests were never selected on criteria of social prestige or possessions: the prophetic office does not seem to have been one aspired to by the ruling classes.

21 R. de Vaux, Institutions de l'Ancien Testament I [PaPis 31976] 108. 47 Num. 21,18: Prov. 8,16. 22 1 Sam. 2,8: Ps. 107,40-41: 113,7-8. 48 Cf. J. v.d. Ploeg, RB 57 [1950] 40fL 23 Job 12, 21 • 49 Ex. 18,21. 25. 24 Prov. 19,6. 50 Ex. 18,21: cL Is. 1,23. 25 Prov. 25,6-7. 51 Is. 23,8b. 26 Cf. J. v.d. Ploeg, RB 57 [1950] 55. 52 Judg. 10,4: 12,9. 14. 27 Num. 21,18. 53 Cf. TWAT II 645. 28 Job 34,18: Prov. 25,6-7. 54 Ibid. 645. 649. 29 Prov. 8,16. 55 Ex. 35,27. 30 Ps. 118,9: 146,3. 31 1 Sam. 2,8: Is. 32,5. 8: Ps. 113,7-8: Prov. 17,26.

56 Prov. 8,6. BHK3 proposes to emendate negtd£m into neko?£m; BHS suggests to read negad£m; but cf. LXX semna and Vulg. de l'ebus magnis.

32 Eccl. 10,17.

57 Job 2,10. CL 2 Sam. 13,13: "you would be like one of the nebal£m in Israel ... "

33 J. v.d. Ploeg, RB 57 [1950] 58.

58 Ct.

A. Caquot, Revue de l'Histoil'e des Religions 155 [1959] 1-16: P. Joilon, Bibl. 5 [1924] 356-361: W.M.H. Roth, VT 10 [1960] 394-409. The latter author favours the acceptation "outcast" and argues that the concept must be understood against the (half-)nomadic background of early Israel (op.cit. 403).

34 1 Kings 21,11: Neh. 2,16: 4,8. 13: 5,7: 6,17: 7,5: 13,17. 35 See Jer. 5,4-5, cf. TWAT I 934c.

59 1 Sam. 25,25. 36 Cf. J. v.d. Ploeg, OTS 9 [Leiden 1951] 49-64. 60 Cf. Judg. 9,4:

Sam. 6,20: 2 Chr. 13,7. Cf. L. Rost, ThLZ 78 [1955] 3.

37 Job 31,16ff. 31f. 61 For a discussion of the term see TWAT I 654-658. 38 Is 32,1-8. It is true that many exegetes reject the Isaianic authorship of these verses and tend to assign them (particularly vv. 6-8, usually considered a secondary development) to a later, sometimes post-exilic period (cf. O. Procks, KAT 9 [Leipzig 1930] 410-412: H. Wildberger, BKAT X/3 [NeukirchenVluyn 1982] 1251-1254, proposes the period around 500). The change in metre seems indeed to betray a later revision. Yet the message would fit perfectly well in the time of Isaiah. I see no reason to claim that the terminology is exclusively sapiential and therefore represents a later revision of the prophecy (ct. O. Kaiser, ATD 18 [Gottingen 1973] 254-258): on the contrary, it is my contention that the opposition between nebaltm and nedtb£m is not primarily sapiential but sociological. 39 Jer. 5,4-5.

62 Deut. 15,9. 63

Sam. 30,22.

64

Sam. 25,25, cf. 17. H.-J. Kraus, Gesahiahte del' histoPisah-kl'itischen El'fol'sahung des Alten Testaments [Neukirchen-Vluyn 2 1969] § 76. On the sociological approach cham-

65 Ct.

pioned by M. Weber see J .A. Holstein, "Max Weber and Biblical Scholarship",

HUCA 46 [1975] 159-179: E. Otto, "Hat Max Webers ReI igionssoziologie des antiken Judentums Bedeutung fUr eine Theologie des Alten Testaments?", ZAW 94 [1982] 187-203, cf. his note 2 for literature: the most thorough study has been presented by Ch. Schiifer-Lichtenberger, Stadt, und Eidgenossenschaft im Alten Testament [Berlin - New York 1983]: on A. Causae see S.T. Kimbrough, Israelite Religion in Soaiological Pel'spective [Wiesbaden 1978].

40 M.B. Dick, ZAW 95 [1983] 53. 41 Cf. J. Pedersen's picture of Job os the upholder of a small community, a strong man in his city's council, honoured by all (Israel. Its Life and CUltul'e 1-11 [London - Copenhagen 1926] 363. 130. 213ff.). 42 Cf. G. Fohrer, Studien au alttestamentZiahen Texten und Themen (]966-1972) [Berlin, New York 1981] 123f. 43 Prov. 23,1-2, see also Ch. 2 note 159.

212

66 For a survey of the relevant literature see L. Epsztein, La justice sociale dans le Pl'oche Ol'ient ancien et le peuple de la Bible [Paris 1983] 97-137. 67 Although one is tempted to use the adjective "nomadic" or, more vaguely, "seminomadic" in connection with this phase in Israel's social history, our scanty knowledge of the original social and economic structure of early Israel forbids us to do so. C.H.J. de Geus, The Tl'ibes of Israel [Assen - Amsterdam 1976] esp. 124-133. 156, holds that, like most of the other oldest "Semites", the

213

1 early Israelites lived in a sedentary and mainly agricultural milieu. N.K. Gottwald, The Tribes of YahlJeh [London 1980] 435-463, proposes a "radical revision" of the "pastoral nomadic model" for early Israel, though he concedes that "it is probable that pastoral nomadism was one socio-economic mode of life represented in early Israe 1" (459). J. W. Rogerson, AnthrGpotogy and the Dtd Testament [Oxford 1978] 43, cautions against the too eager usage of characterizations like "nomads" or "semi-nomads", because of the imprecision of the terms.

92 B. Alster, RA 69 [1975] 83 ad 11.51-52; "behaviour" in 1.71. 93 J. van Oijk, SSA 23: "l'epanouissement complet des valeurs humaines". Cf. also JCS 25 [1973] 111 :70; 125 ad 1.170. 94 See F.R. Kraus, Vom MesopotamiBahen Mensah der attbabytonischen Zeit und seiner Wett [Amsterdam - London 1973] 92-125. 95 CL TIM 1 21 :31.

68 Num. 16, 2 .

96

C~

XLVII (= Rev. XXIV) 59.

69 Num. 11,4; Ex. 12,38. 97 Especially in Mari, cL ARM 3,75:9; 5,2 Rev. 5. 70 The possibility cannot be excluded that the descriptions in Exodus and Numbers reflect the social structure prevalent under the monarchy, rather than the situation prior to the sedentarization. But even then one could argue that the authors wished to convey that the contemporary social antagonisms were rooted in Israel's pre-history - which I hold to be the case.

98 ARM 2,1:15-23; cf. CAD 0 70b 3. 99 ARM 2, 1 : 17 •

71 Cf. note 52.

100 AbB 3 no. 52:19ff.; cf. R. Frankena, Kommentar au den attbabytoniBahen Briefen aua Lagaba und anderen Drten [Leiden 1978] 165ff.

72 1 Sam. 25.

101 Cf. W.G. Lambert, AfD 19 [1959-60] 48f.

73 2 Sam. 19,33.

102 BWL 70:22.

74 Judg. 6,25ff.

103 BWL 72:29.

75 Cf. for the

miBpGq~t

C.H.J. de Geus, op.cit. 136ff.

104 BWL 74:54f.

76 Cf. Ex. 21,32. 35; 22,6. 15f.; Judg. 17,2ff.; 1 Sam. 9,8.

105 BWL 74: 52f.

77 Cf. A. Alt, "Oer Anteil des Kiinigtums an der sozialen Entwicklung in den Reichen Israel und Juda", neine Sahriften aul' Gesahiahte IS1'Qets [Munchen 1959] 348-372.

106 BWL 76:77.

78 Cf. 1 Kings 10,14-29; G. Wallis, ZAW 78 [1966] 147, uses the term "Frilhkapitalismus" in this connection.

108 BWL 84:242.

107 BWL 74 :63f.

109 BWL 84:243. 79 Ps. 11,3.

110 80 Cf. Ch. 4

BW~

861269. 274.

11. 111 S. Langdon, 68: 19.

81 Ps. 49,6f. 82 Ps. 14,4 /I 53,S.

Die neubabytoniaahe Konigsinaahl'iften

(- VAB 4) [Leipzig 1912]

112 Cf. Ch. 2 § 15. Cf. also the inscription of Zakkur of Hamat, 21 'B 'nh 'nh,

KAI

202 (A) line

83 Is. 32,S. See also note 38. 84 Is. 32,6.

113 Corroborating evidence for this conclusion can be found in the diagnostic texts discussed in Ch. 4 § 11.

85 Is. 32,8.

114CLCh.2

16.

86 Mol. 3,18.

115 Cf. Ch. 2

2.

87 Zeph. 3,12, cf. Ihromi, 'Amm 'lint IJiidiit naah dem l'I'opheten Zephanja [Mainz 19731. For the spiritualization of poverty in the Old Testament see also A, Gelin, Lea pauvres de Yahve [Paris 1953],

116 Cf. Ch. 6 S§ 2-3.

88 BIN 6 207:15,

118 CL Ch. 4

4.

89 CCT 3 34a:26.

119 CL Ch. 5

2.

90 CT 29 8a:6.

120 Cf. Ch. 4

11.

91 ZA 43 [1936] 96 11:3.

121 Cf. Ch. 2

13.

214

117 Cf. Ch.

§ 2.

215

Abbreviations

AB

AssYl'iologische Bibliothek [Leipzig]

AbB

Altbabylonische Bl'iefe in Umsch1'ift und Ubel'setzung [Leiden 1964-]

ABL

R.F. Harper, AssYl'ian and BabyZonian Lettel's I-XIV Chicago 1892-1914]

ABPh

A. Ungnad, AZtbabyZonisohe Bl'iefe aus dem Museum zu PhiZadeZphia [Stuttgart 1920]

AbZal'

•Abodah Zamh

Ach

ss

[London

AOS

Ame1'ican 01'ientol Se1'ies [New Haven]

ARM

A1'Chives 1'0yales de Mal'i [Paris 1950-]

AS

Assy1'iological Studies

Asb.

M. Streck, Assul'banipai und die letzten assy1'ischen Konige bis zum Untel'gange Nineveh's I-Ill (= VAB 7/1-3) [Leipzig 1916]

ASKT

P. Haupt, Akkadisohe und Sumel'isohe KeilschPifttexte [Leipzig 1882]

ATD

Das Alte Testament Deutsoh [Gottingen]

ATHE

B. Kienast, Die altassy1'ische Texte des 01'ientalischen Seminal's in Heidelbepg und del' Sammlung El'lenmeyel' [Berlin 1960]

Atm~asis

W.G. Lambert - A.R. Millard, Atro-hasis, the Babylonian StOl'Y of the Flood [Oxford 1969] -

b

Babylonian Talmud

BA

Beitn7ge aul' Assy1'iologie [Leipzig]

Bab.

Babyloniaoa [Paris]

and

Ch. vi rolleaud, L 'astl'ologie ohaldeenne, second supplement (fasc. 11-14) [Paris 1911-1912]

[Chicago 1931-]

(=

AB

1)

AfO

A1'Chiv !U1' 01'ientfol'sohung [Berlin, Graz]

BagM

Baghdadel' Mitteilungen [Berlin]

AfO Beih.

AfO Beiheft

BAM

AGE

K.L. Tallqvist, Akkadisohe Gottel'epitheta (= StOl' 7) [Helsingforsiae 1938]

F. Kocher, Die babylonisoh-assy1'ische Medizin in Texten und Untel'suchungen [Berlin 1963-]

BBR

H. Zimmern, Beitnfge aul' Kenntnis del' babylonisohen ReZigion (= AB 12) [Leipzig 1901]

BBS

L.W. King, Babylonian Boundal'Y Stones [London 1912]

BOB

F. Brown, S.R. Driver and C.H. Brigga, Hebl'ew and English Lexioon (based on the lexicon of W. Gesenius) [Oxford 1972]

AGH

E. Ebeling, Die Akkadisohe Gebetsse1'ie "Handel'hebung" [Berlin 1953]

AHw

W. von Soden, Akkadisches HandWOl'tel'buoh [Wiesbaden 1959-1981]

AION

Annali dell' Istituto 01'ientale di Napoli [Napoli]

AIPHOS

Annuail'e de l'Institut de Philologie et d'Histoil'e 01'ientales et Slaves [Bruxelles]

BE

The Babylonian Expedition of the Univel'sity of Pennsylvania, Sel'ies A: CUneifol'm Texts [Philadelphia]

AKA

L.W. King, The Annals of the Kings of AssYl'ia I [London 1902]

Baitl'.

F. Kuchler, Beitnfge Mediain [Leipzig 1904]

AZtass.ReZ.

H. Hirsch, Untel'suohungan 13/14) [Graz 1961]

Bel'

Bemkhot

AM

A.L. Oppenheim, Anoient Mesopotamia [Chicago and London; rev. ed. 1977]

AMT

R.C. Thompson, AssYl'ian Medioal Texts [Oxford 1923]

ANET

J. B. Pritchard (ed.), Anoient Neal' Eastel'n Texts Relating to the Old Testament [Prince ton 3 1969]

SUI'

altassy1'isohen Religion

(a

SUI'

Kenntnis

del' assy1'isoh-babylonischen

AfO Beih. Biblia Hebl'aioa, ed. R. Kittel [Stuttgart 1966 3 ] BHS

Biblia Hebl'aioa Stuttgal'tensia [Stuttgart 1977]

Bibl.

Biblica. Commental'ii pe1'iodioi Pontifioii Instituti Biblioi [Rome]

BID

W. Farber, Besohw01'Ungs1'ituale an

I~tal'

und Dumuzi [Wieabaden 1977]

AnOl'

Analeota 01'ientalia [Rome]

BIN

Babylonian Insol'iptions in the Colleotion of J.B. Nies [New Haven]

AnSt

Anatolian Studies [London]

BiOI'

Bibliotheoa 01'ientalis [Leiden]

Ant.

Flavius Josephus, Jewish Antiquities (de antiquitatibus JudaioisJ

B~t

AO

tablets in Orienta lea)

BKAT

Biblisohel' Kommental' zum Alten Testament [Neukirchcn-Vluyn]

HL

S. Langdon, Babylonian Litul'gies [Paris 1913]

AOAT

the

l'imki

collections of the Muade du Louvre (Antiquitea

Altel' 01'ient und Altes Testament [Kevelaer, Neukirchen-Vluyn 1969-]

216

J. Laessi\e, Studies on the Assyl'ian Ritual and Sel'ies btt l'imki [Copenhagen 1955]

217

BM

tablets in the collections of the British Museum

1-11 (= MVAG 33. 35/111) [Leipzig 1930. 1935] j

BMS

L.W. King, Babylonian Magic and SOl'CepY [London 1896]

I

/(

EPHE

Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes, Paris

BRM

Babylonian Recol'ds in the Libl'QpY of J. Pierpont Mbpgan [New Haven]

El'l'Q

L. Cagni, L'epopea di El'l'Q (= Studi Semitiai 34) [Rome 1969]

BT

The Bible Tl'ansZatol' [Aberdeen]

Esal'.

R. Borger, Die Insahl'iften Asal'haddons (= Afo 8eih. 9) [Graz 1956]

BTB

Biblical Theology Bulletin [Londonville]

Fauna

B. Landsberger - I. Krumbiegel, Die Fauna des alten Mesopotamien [Leipzig 1934]

Bu.

tablets in the collections of the British Museum (Budge) FLP

BuA

B. Meissner, Babylonien und Assyl'ien 1-11 [Heidelberg 1920. 1925]

tablets in the collection of the Free Library of Pennsylvania

Fs.

Festschrift

BWANT

Beitroge BUl' Wiseenschaft vom AZten und Neuen Testament [Leipzig, GAG

W. von Soden, Gl'Undl'ise del' akkadisahen Gl'Qmmatik (= AnOl' 33) [Rome 1952] (see also id., El'giinBungsheft aum GAG (= AnOl' 47) [Rome 1969])

Genava

Genava, l'evue d'al'aheologie et d'histail'e de l 'apt pubZiee pal' le Musee d'al't et d'histoil'e de Gen~ve [Gen~ve]

HAL

W. Baumgartner et al., Hebl'iiisahes und Aranliisahes Lexiaon Bum Alten TesUvnent [Leiden 1967-]

HAT

Handbuah Bum Alten Testament [Tubingen]

HE

tablets in the collections of the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes, Paris

HGS

A.

Ij~

lexical series

[London 1921-56]

Hist.

Herodotus, Hist"ol'iae

CHJ

C. Boyer, Contl'ibution d l 'hietoil'e jUl'idique de la 11'e dynastie Babylonienne [Paris 1928]

HKAT

Handkommental' aum Alten Testament [Gottingen]

IIKL Chl'eetomathy

F.M.Th. de Liagre Bohl, Akkadian Chl'estomathy [Leiden 1947]

R. Borger, Handbuah del' KeiZsahl'iftZiterotul' I-Ill [Berlin, New York 1967. 1975]

CIj

Codex ljaTTJT1Ul'Qpi (quoted according to R. Borger Babylonisah-assyl'isahe Lesestuake II [Rome 1963] 1-46)

HMA

R. Labat, Hemel'ologies et menologies d'Assul' [Paris 1939]

HS

tablets in the Hilprecht collection, Jena

[London 1896-]

HUCA

Hebl'e~

A. Herdner, Corpus des tablettes en auneifonnes alphabetiquee deaouvel'tes d Ras Shaml'Q-Ugal'it de 1929 d 1939 [Paris 1963]

IEJ

ISl'Qel EXplo1'Qtion Joul'nal [Jerusalem]

IM

tablets in the collections of the Iraq Museum, Baghdad

B. Landsberger, The Date Palm and its By-Produats (- AfO 8eih. 17) [Graz 19671

j

Jerusalem Talmud

ON

divine name

JANES

Joul'nal of the Anaient Neap Eastel'n Soaiety of columbia Univel'sity

Dl'eams

A.L. Oppenheim, 1'he Interpl'etation of Dl'eams in the Anaient Neap East [Philadelphia 1956]

JAOS

Joul'nal of the Amel'iaan Ol'iental Soaiety [New Haven]

OT

tablets in the collections of the British Museum (Daily Telegraph)

JBL

Joul'nal of Bibliaal Literotul'e and EXegesis [New Haven, Phila-

EA

J.A. Knudtzon, Die El-Amal'na Tafeln (- VAB 2) [Leipzig 1915]

Ee

Eniuna elil1

EL

G. Eisser - J. Lewy, Die altassyl'isahen Reahtsul'kunden vom Kiiltepe

Stuttgart]

BWL

W.G. Lambert, Babylonian Wisdom Litel'Qtul'e [Oxford 1959]

BZ NF

Biblische Zeitsahl'ift, Neue Folge [Paderborn]

BZAW

Beiheft zur ZAW

CAD

The AssYl'ian Diational'Y of the Ol'iental Institute of the Univel'sity of Chiaago [Chicago - Gluckstadt 1956-]

CB

R. Labat, Un aalendl'iel' babylonien des tl'Qvaux, des signee et des mais [Paris 1956]

CBQ

Catholia Bible Qual'tel'ly [Washington]

cns

tablets in the collections of the University Museum in the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia

CCT

Cuneifo1'l1l Texts fl'om Cappadoaian Tablets in the Bl'itish Mueeum

CT CTA Date Palm

Scho llmeyer, Sumel'isahe und Akkadisahe IIYTTrnen und Gebete an Samal1 [Paderborn 1912] ~R.RA

a

~ubullu

(see MSL 5-8)

Cuneifa1'l1l Texts fl'om Babylanian Tablets in the Bl'itisah Museum Union College Annual [Cincinnati]

[New York]

delphia]

218

JBL Mon. Sel'.

J8L Mbnogl'Qph Sel'ies

JCS

Joul'nal Of Cuneifol'm Studies [New Haven, Cambridge Mass.]

219

M.

tablets excavated at Mari, in the collections of the Musee du Louvre.

MA

Middle Assyrian

MAD

Materials for the Assyrian Diotionary [Chicago 1952-1957J

Malku

synonym list malku = sarru (references taken from the CAD)

Maqlu

G. Meier, Die assYl'isohe BeBchwarungssammlung Maqlu (= AfO Beih. 2) [Berlin 1937J

MARI

MARI Annales de Reohel'ohes Interdisoiplinail'es [ParisJ

JEN

E. Chiera, Joint Expedition LJith the Iroq Museum at Nuzi I-VI [Paris 1927 - New Haven 1939J

JENu

Joint Expedition LJith the Iroq Museum at fmzi, unpublished

JEOL

JaarbeI'icht van het Vooroziatisch-Egyptisch Genootschap "Ex Oriente Lux" [LeidenJ

JNES

Journal of Near Eastern Studies [ChicagoJ

JRAS

Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society [LondonJ

JSS

Journal of Semitic Studies [ManchesterJ

JTS

Journal of Theological Studies [LondonJ

K.

tablets in the Kouyunjik collection of the British Museum

KAH

L. Messerschmidt - O. Schroder, Keilschrifttexte aus Assur historisohen Inhalts 1-11 [Leipzig 1911. 1922J

KAI

H. Donner, W. Rollig, Kanaanaisohe und Aromaisohe Insohriften [Wiesbaden 1964J

KAR

E.

KAT

Kommentar zum Alten Testament [LeipzigJ

KB

Keilinsohriftliohe Bibliothek [Berlin 1889-1915J

KEo

Keilsohrifttexte aUs Boghazkoi [Leipzig, Berlin 1916-J

Nabnitu

lexical series SIG7+ALAM

Ket

Kethuboth

Ned

Nedorim

KlF

Kleinasiatisohe Forsohungen [WeimarJ

Ni.

tablets excavated at Nippur, in the collections of the Archeological Museum of Istanbul.

KTS

J.

Lewy, Keilsohrifttexte in den Antiken-Museen zu Stambul. Die altassyrisohen Texte vom Kultepe [Constantinopel 1926J

NKZ

Neue kirohliche Zeitsohrift [LeipzigJ

KTU

M. Dietrich, o. Loretz, J. Sanmartln, Die keilalphabetisohen Texte QUB Ugarit (- AOAT 24) [Kevelaer, Neukirchen-Vluyn 1976J

NSGU

A. Falkenstein, Die neusumerisohen Geriohtsurkunden I-Ill [MUnchen 1956-5])

KUB

Keilsohrifturkunden aus Boghazkoi [Berlin 1926-J

NTS

New Testament Studies [LondonJ

LA PO

Littdrotures Anoiennes du Proohe-Orient [Paris 1972-J

OECT

Oxford Editions of Cuneiform Texts [OxfordJ

LAS

S. Parpola, Letters from AssYl'ian Soholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and ABsurbanipal I-II (a AOAT 5/1-2) [Kevelaer, Neukirchen-Vluyn

Olwhrsagung

G. Pettinato, Die Olwhrsagung bei den Babyloniel'n I-II Semitioi 21-22) [Rome 1966J

OIC

Oriental Institute Communioations [ChicagoJ

OIP

The University of Chioago OI'iental Institute PUblioations [ChicagoJ

OLZ

Orientalisohe Literoturaeitung [Berlin, Leipzig, Berlin-LeipzigJ

OrAnt

Oriens Antiquus, rivista del Centra per le Antiohitd e la Storia dell'Arte del Vioino Oriente [RomeJ

Or NS

Orientalia Nova Series [Rome 1932-J

OTS

Oudtestamentisohe Studien [LeidenJ

PAPS

Prooeedings of the AmeI'ioan Philosophioal Sooiety Held at Philadelphia for Promoting Useful Knowledge [Phill\delphiaJ

Mat.Ep.di Ebla Materiali Epigrofioi di Ebla [Napoli 1979-J Mitteilungen del' Deutsohen Ol'ient-Gesellsohaft [BerlinJ

MDP

Mdmoires de la Deldgation en Perse [ParisJ

Mdlanges Cazelles

A. Caquot - M. Delcor (eds.), Melanges bibliques et orientaux en l'honneul' de M. Henri Caaelles (a AOAT 212) [Kevelaer, NeukirchenVluyn 1981J

MIO

Mitteilungen des Instituts

MSL

B. Landsberger et aI., MateI'ials for the SumeI'ian Lexicon [Rome 1937- J

MVAG

Mitteilungen

I-Ill

Ebeling, KeilsohI'ifttexte aus Assur religiosen Inhalts 1- II [Leipzig 1919. 1923J

1970. 1983J lex.

lexical section

LKA

E. Ebeling, Literorisohe Keilsohrifttexte aus Assur [Berlin 1953J

LKU

A. Falkenstein, 1931J

LSS

Leipziger Semitistisohe Studien [LeipzigJ

Ludlul

Ludlul bel nemeqi (see AnSt 4 [1954J 65ff.; BWL 2Iff.)

Lugale

epic LUGALE U MELAMBI NERGAL cited from manuscript of A. Falkenstein (references taken from the CAD)

LVT

L. Koehler - W. Baumgartner, Lexioon in Veteris Testamenti libros [Leiden 1953J

Literorisohe Keilsohrifttexte aus Uruk [Berlin

220

MDOG

del'

fUr

Orientforschung [BerlinJ

Vorderasiatisch(-Aegypti!chJen Gesellsohaft

[Berlin, Leipzig 1896-1944J =

221

nabnitu (references taken from the CAD)

(a

Studi

SKZy

J. Krecher, Sumerische Kultlyrik [Wiesbaden 1966]

Pesa~im

Srn.

tablets in the collections of the British Museum (Smith)

PRT

E. Klauber, Po~itisah-Re~igiOse Texte aus der Sargonidenaeit [Leipzig 1913]

SP

E.I. Gordon, Sumerian Proverbs [Philadelphia 1959]

SSA

J.J.A. van Dijk, La sages se Sumdro-Accadienne [Leiden 1953]

Qid

Qiddushin

STA

lQI s a

One of the two Isaiah manuscripts found at Qumran, first cave

E. Chiera, Selected Temple Accounts from TeZZoh, Yokha and Drehem [Philadelphia 1922]

Q PrWab

Prayer of Nabonidus, found at Qumran

STC

L.W. King, The Seven TabZets of Creation 1-11 [London 1902]

R

H. Rawlinson, The Cuneifo1'lTl Insariptions of Western ABia [London 1861-1909]

StEb

Studi Eblaiti [Rome]

Stor

Studia Orientalia [Helsinki]

RA

Revue

STT

RAaa

F. Thureau-Dangin, RitueZB Aaaadiens [Paris 1921]

O.R. Gurney, J.J. Finkelstein, 1-11 [London 1957. 1964]

RAI

Compte rendu de

SVT

Supplement to VT [Leiden]

RB

Revue BibZique [Paris]

SRT

C.D. Gray, The Sama~ Religious Texts [Chicago 1901]

RHA

Revue hittite et aBianique [Paris]

Surpu

E. Reiner, Surpu, a Colleation of Sumerian and Akkadian Incantations (- Afo Beih. 11) [Graz 1958]

RHPR

Revue d'hiBtoire et de phiZosophie reZigieuseB [Paris] Tiikul tu

R.

Rima~

S. Dalley, C.B.F. Walker, J.D. Hawkins, The OZd from Te~Z A~ Rimah [London 1976]

RLA

ReaZZexiaon der ABByrioZogie [Leipzig, Berlin, New York 1932-]

Rm.

tablets in the collectiohs of the British Museum (Rassam)

RMA

Thompson, The ReportB of the MagiaianB and ABtroZogerB of Nineveh and BabyZon [London 1900]

RN

PEQ

The

Pes

Pa~estine EXp~oration Quarter~y

d'Assyrio~ogie

~a

et d'araheoZogie orientaZe [Paris]

.,. Renaontre ABsyrioZogique InternationaZe

Baby~onian

TabZetB

P. Hulin, The Sultantepe Tablets

Frankena, TiikuZtu. De BaaraZe maaUijd in het ASByrisahe ritueeZ, met een overaiaht over de in Assur vereerde goden [Leiden

1954]

TAPS

TranBaations of the American PhiloBophicaZ Society HeZd at philadelphia for Promoting UBefuZ KnowZedge [Philadelphia]

TC

TabZettes CappadoaienneB (1 - TCL 4; 2 - TCL 14; 3 - TCL

TCL

TabZettes aundifonmeB. MUBde du Louvre [Paris]

royal name

TCS

TextB from Cuneiform SourceB [Locust Vslley]

RThph

Revue de thdoZogie et de phiZoBophie [Lausanne]

TDP

R. Labat, Traitd Akkadien de DiagnostiaB et Pronostics Mddiaaux [Paris/Leiden -1951]

SANE

SouraeB from the Anaient Near EaBt [Malibu] THAT

Sanh

Sanhedrin

E. Jenni (ed.) assisted by C. Westermann, TheoZogiBahes Handworterbuah aum AZten TeBtament 1-11 [MUnchen 1971. 1976]

SBII

G. Reisner, SumeriBah-babyZoniBahe Hymnen naah n,ontafeln grieahiBaher Zeit [Berlin 1896]

ThB

TheoZogiBahe Buaherei [Munchen]

ThGl

TheoZogie und GZaube [Paderborn]

SbTU

SpatbabyloniBahe Texte aUB uruk [Berlin] ThLZ

TheologiBahe Literaturaeitung [Berlin]

SEM

E. Chiera, Sumerian EpiaB and ~thB (- OIP 15) [Chicago 1934]

ThR

TheoZogiBahe Rundsahau [TUbingen]

Senn.

0.0. Luckenbill, The Annals of Sennaoherib (- OIP 2) [Chicago 1924]

Tigl.

SFS

V. Scheil, Une saison de fouilles

P. Rost, 1893]

SGKA

Studien aur GeBahiahte und Kultur deB AltertumB [Paderborn]

TIM

TextB in the Iraq MUBeum [Baghdad, Wiesbaden]

Si.

field numbers of the tablets excavated at Sippar

TIT

SJT,A

Studies in JudaiBm in Late Antiquity [Leiden]

Th. Jacobsen, TOtJardBthe Ink2ge of Tanrnua and Other EBsayB on Mesopotamian HiBtory and Culture (ed. W.L. Moran) [Cambridge Mass. 1970]

SKIZ

W.H.Ph. 1965]

TLB

TabuZae CuneifonmeB a F.M.Th. de Liagre BohZ aoZZeatae [Leiden]

19-21)

R.C.

Romer,

a Sippar

[Cairo 1902]

SumeriBahe "KonigBhymnen" der Isin-Zeit [Leiden

Die KeilBahrifttexte TigZat-PiZeBers III I-Il [Leipzig

Texte und Materialien der Fmu ProfeBsor lIiZpreaht Collection in Jena [Leipzig 1932/1937]

222

223

T

TWAT

G.J. Botterweck - H. Ringgren (eds.), Theologisches Worterbuch zum

Alten Testament [Stuttgart 1973-]

1,

Bibliography

UET

Ur EXcavations, Texts [London 1928-]

UF

Ugarit-Forschungen [Kevelaer, Neukirchen-Vluyn]

UFBG

W. Mayer, Untersuchungen zur FOmlenspmche der babylonischen "Gebetsbeschwarungen" (= Studia Pohl: Series maior 5) [Rome 1976]

Ug.

Ugaritica [Paris 1939-]

UM

University of Pennsylvania, the Musewn, PUblications of the Babylonian Section [Philadelphia]

UT

C.H. Gordon, Ugaritic Textbook (= AnOr 38) [Rome 1965]

Monographs and articles bearing only upon a minor aspect of our study are generally omitted from the Bibliography. Currently used literature and editions of cuneiform texts are only listed insofar as they have not been included in the Abbreviations. Works appearing only in the Bibliography and never or rarely in the Notes mostly concern introductions to the subject of a general interest.

VAB

Vordemsiatische Bibliothek I-VII [Leipzig 1907-1916]

A.W.H. Adkins, Moral Values and Political Behaviour in Ancient Greeae [London 1972]

VAS

Vordemsiatische Schriftdenkmaler der Koniglichen Museen zu Berlin

R. Albertz, Personliche Frommigkeit und offizielle Religion [Stuttgart 1978]

[Leipzig 1907-] B. Albrektson, History and the Gods [Lund 1967]

Vassal-Treaties D.J. Wiseman, The Vassal-Treaties of Esarhaddon

(=

Imq 20) [1958]

1-99, pIs. 1-53) [London 1958]

B. Ali, Swnerian Letters [Ph.D. Ann Arbor 1964]

VAT

tablets in the collections of the Staatliche Museen, Berlin

M. Anbar, "Le chitiment du crime de sacrilege d' apres la Bible et un texte hepatoscopique paleo-babylonien", RA 68 [1974] 172-173

VT

Vetus Testamentwn [Leiden]

W.

field numbers of tablets excavated at Warka (ancient Uruk)

WdO

Die Welt des Orients [Wuppertal, Stuttgart, Gottingen]

WDOG

Wissenschaftliche Veroffentliahungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft

J. Begrich, "Die Vertrauensiiusserungen im israEHitischen Klageliede des Einzelnen

Wissenschaftliche Monogmphien zwn Alten und Neuen Testament [Neu-

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K1'