_PROPHETISM AND THE JAHVEH-RELIGION._
§ 1. The most brilliant point in the history of Hebrew Religion is
distinguished by an ingenious original idea, imported by the Hebrews
into the development of religion—a single thought, yet in itself
sufficient to secure for that short history a permanent place on the
pages of universal history. The idea of JAHVEH is what I allude to.[687]
To the question, when this idea was born, the sublimity of which exerted
so powerful and irresistible an influence over the noblest minds, it can
only be answered that we labour in vain if we try to find the exact
point of time of its origin. As the Nile, to which those who have been
cradled on its banks ascribe a great magic force, cannot be easily
traced to its source, so with the idea of Jahveh: we do not see it
spring into life, we only see it after its creation, and observe how it
works and kindles new spiritual life in the souls of those who
acknowledge it. The Mohammedan idea of Allâh is the only one which may
perhaps vie with the sublimity of that of Jahveh; yet even that is far
from occupying so lofty an eminence of religious thought as the idea of
Jahveh.
If, translating the word Jahveh into a modern European language, we say
that he is the one who ‘Brings to be,’ produces and works out Being, we
do not in the most distant manner indicate the fulness of meaning which
is embodied in that religious technical term. To appreciate it, a
sympathising soul must be absorbed in all that the Prophets bring into
connexion with the expression Jahveh. Shall I translate all that these
inspired men declare of Jahveh? I should have to interpret the entire
prophetic literature of the Hebrews, and yet should produce only a pale
reflex of all the splendour which envelops Jahveh with glory in the
speeches of the Prophets.
I have mentioned the Mohammedan idea of Allâh. Although etymologically
identical with Elôhîm, that name may afford a parallel to the Hebrew
idea of Jahveh, not only in its essence and meaning, but also in its
history. It was not unknown as a technical religious expression to the
Arabs before the time of Moḥammed. To the Preislamite or heathen system
of Arabic theology, which had its centre in the sanctuary at Mekka, the
Divine name Allâh was familiar. But with what a new meaning did the
preaching of the epileptic huckster of Mekka inform it! Through the
gospel of the Arabian Prophet Allâh became something quite new. Yet even
in this respect Jahveh appears still grander. For, while the Mohammedan
idea of God clings close to the etymological signification of the word
Allâh, insisting primarily on might and unlimited omnipotence, in the
Hebrew Prophets’ idea of Jahveh the name becomes a mere accident and
accessory, and the true meaning presses with its full weight in a
direction quite distinct from the signification and etymology of the
word, which was formed in an earlier age. I have already declared my
opinion as to the period in which the Divine name Jahveh may have
emerged into notice among the people (p. 272), and the impulse which
produced it. We can also demonstrate the existence of the name after
that period from many proper names which are compounded with the name
Jahveh, either full or abbreviated (into Jâhû or Jâ), that name forming
either the first or the second member of the compound. From the fact
that such names occur in the Northern as well as in the Southern
kingdom, it is also evident that the name Jahveh itself had been formed
before the separation.[688] On the other hand, we ought not to infer too
much from the early occurrence of such names in the canonical books.
For, in the first place, not every Jô- at the beginning of proper names
is an abbreviation of the Divine name; if our knowledge of the ancient
forms of Hebrew speech could be extended, this Jô- would probably in
many cases be degraded into the first syllable of a verb, as has been
shown by M. Levy to be probably the case in the name Yôʾêl (Joel);[689]
secondly, it must be remembered that there is a possibility that many of
these names received a Jahveistic colouring only from the theocratic
writers. The possibility of this is seen in the fact that even the name
Yôsêph, in which the first syllable has nothing to do with Yahveh, once
occurs in the form Yehôsêph (Ps. LXXXI. 6 [6]),[690] and still more
clearly in the conversion of the name Hôshêaʿ into Yehôshûaʿ (Joshua),
which the Biblical narrator certainly refers to a very high antiquity
(Num. XIII. 16).[691] But at all events, we must not seek the origin of
the name Jahveh outside the Hebrew circle, and endeavour to explain it
from foreign elements, as those did who used to see in Jov-is a namesake
of Jahveh,[692] and even went to China to find the origin;[693] and as
is still done by some in the interest of Egyptian antiquity, who find in
the Egyptian _nuk pu nuk_, ‘ego qui ego,’ the prototype of the Hebrew
Ehye asher ehye ‘I am who I am.’ But the identification of the Egyptian
with the Hebrew formula was recently justly attacked by Tiele,[694] who,
however, at the same time, has a private hypothesis of his own on the
origin of this idea of God. After proving it to be neither Egyptian, nor
Canaanitish, nor Aryan, he refers its origin to the Kenites; supposing
the Hebrews to have borrowed the idea of Jahveh from that desert tribe,
then to have forgotten it in Canaan, and subsequently to have made it
their own again, when the Prophets had revived its use.
But whatever be the origin of the word Jahveh as a technical term of
theology, the living and working idea of Jahveh was first introduced
into the circle of Hebrew thought by the Prophets. For this reason I
have not discussed Jahveism till now; which will be approved by all who
see that we cannot speak of ideas as existing and living until they
appear as factors in the history of human thought. What means the
_existence_ of an idea (as I would say to those who fancy the
Jahveh-idea to have been originally the property of a separate caste),
if it lives in the brain or the heart of a few individuals, without
exercising any force or influence on the world beyond? Could we say of
electricity that it exists in nature, if we did not see it interfere as
a factor in the life of nature? So the Jahveistic idea must be held to
commence its life only when it begins to act upon the spiritual life of
the nation. To have caused this is one of the most perennial leaves in
the crown of glory won by the Prophets.
I cannot imagine that any of my readers are ignorant of the nature of
the labours of the Hebrew Prophets, and therefore we need not here
specially characterise their work. By Prophets we do not of course mean
those soothsayers, or as they were called Seers (chôze, rôʾe), whom we
meet with in the period preceding that of the Prophets, and also
later[695]—to whom the young man could apply in confident expectation of
finding lost property, when his father had sent him to look for his lost
asses; nor do we mean those wonder-workers whose occupation was to
suspend and interrupt the regular order of nature for special purposes
and for a certain time; nor those who, before the priesthood had become
a closed institution, occasionally attended to the sacrifices offered to
Elôhîm. We mean those men who, when the people had exhausted all the
inspiration which they could derive from the idea of Elôhîm, came
forward as new representatives of the idealism, the inspiration and the
waning conception of nationality, which they now announced in a still
higher degree, and as preachers of the ideal in a nation in which ‘from
the sole of the foot up to the head there was no soundness, but wounds,
and stripes, and raw sores, which were not pressed out nor bound up nor
softened with ointment,’ whose ‘princes’—themselves ‘rulers of Sodom’
over a ‘people of Gomorrah’—‘were dissolute, partners of thieves, all
loving bribes and running after rewards, who judged not the orphan nor
let the cause of widows come unto them;’ ‘who built up Zion with blood
and Jerusalem with iniquity,’ in which ‘the heads judged for bribes, and
the priests taught for hire, and the prophets practised magic for
silver,’ and which ‘drew down guilt with cords of lies and sin as with
the rope of a cart;’ and who ‘called evil good and good evil, made
darkness light and light darkness, made the bitter sweet and the sweet
bitter’ (Is. I. 6, 10, 23, Mic. III. 10, 11, Is. V. 18, 20).
Into such a depth of immorality and carelessness was the Hebrew nation
plunged by an institution which had grown up out of the Hierarchy.
Centralisation of worship, formality, lip-service and a so-called piety
quite mechanical, which are incapable of promoting either high idealism
or morality of thought, and indeed discourage both, but which are well
able to kill the most elevated soul, to cover the warmest temperament
with a thick crust of ice, and to blunt the noblest heart,—these grew up
at the bidding and after the pattern of the priests. A rude service of
sacrifices, which brought down the idea of God more and more to the
level of the senses, converted Mount Zion into a shambles, while the
shameless practices of sacerdotal speculators turned the central
sanctuary of Jerusalem, in the words of Isaiah, the noblest hater of
that corrupt caste, into a ‘den of robbers.’
The Prophets knew their enemies, and perceived the roots of all the
prevailing evil which gave life to the flourishing tree of immorality.
They determined to dig up the tree and to clear away its roots. In the
very front row stood the priesthood and the bloody service, upon which
they turned with all the inextinguishable fanaticism of their noble
passion. But the matter could not end here. The national enthusiasm
which had been aroused in an earlier period, proved to be but a
transient straw-fire; no noble element of that enthusiasm remained to
help a new elevation of sentiment. For, independently of the corruptions
of the priesthood, the political tendencies of the nation were such as
to aid in slowly but surely undermining the idea of nationality. A tiny
people, jammed in between great powers on the north and south, and
itself nourishing vain desires of political power far above its
capabilities and sufficient to wear it out, torn asunder as it was by
internal dissensions,—such a people was constantly driven to seek
alliance with those great powers. But these alliances soon put out the
national fire which had blazed up for a short time in the temper of the
people. The consciousness of being thrown on the protection of strangers
kills the feeling of independent individuality. Moreover foreign, and
especially Canaanitish, manners, were more and more naturalised at the
courts of Hebrew kings; the kings connected themselves by marriage with
adjacent courts, and the ladies obtained increased liberty for foreign
habits in the midst of the Hebrews. The Canaanitish worships were again
received in the capital, and soon obliterated whatever power and
stimulus the Hebraised idea of Elôhîm still possessed in the direction
of national elevation. It is an historical fact that the decline of
nations begins when, instead of developing the elements and powers
inherent in themselves, they carelessly throw up their own
characteristics and yield themselves up without resistance to possibly
more refined but foreign influences. What Cicero’s father said of the
Hellenised Romans is very instructive on this point, that the better a
Roman knew Greek the less he was worth.[696]
The Prophets were not philosophers of culture; they did not start from
great principles abstracted from the study of experience, in pondering
the course of the world; but conviction and enthusiasm lived in them.
They were bad politicians, but unsurpassable representatives of the idea
of Nationality. An experienced statesman of that age would have
refrained from censuring the alliance with foreign powers; that was the
only chance left to the Hebrew nation of adding a few hours of existence
to those already counted. But the Prophets lash this political
experiment at every step, and say that only the moral awakening of the
nation can bring about a possibility of saving its political existence.
‘Ephraim delights in wind and pursues east-wind, while he daily
perpetrates more lies and oppression, and they make covenant with
Assyria, and oil is carried to Egypt,’ says Hosea (XII. 2 [2]), to the
Northern kingdom. At the very last hour Jeremiah (II. 18) treats
fraternisation with the foreigners as equivalent to abandoning Jahveh:
‘What hast thou to do with the road to Egypt to drink of the water of
the Shîchôr [Nile]? and what hast thou to do with the road to Assyria to
drink of the water of the River [Euphrates]?’ They were the purest and
most ideal representatives of national individuality and independence.
We are here especially interested in one point relating to the history
of Religion—the Prophets’ mode of dealing with the two Divine names
Elôhîm and Jahveh.
§ 2. It is well known that the Hebrew idea of God finds expression in
the canonical Biblical literature in two distinct ways: in the direction
of Elôhîm and in that of Jahveh. Each grasps the idea of God, and tries
to use it for the instruction of the people, in its peculiar fashion.
The Jahveistic school, which is identical with Prophetism, is opposed to
the Elohistic, and avoids the employment of Elôhîm as a proper name of
God; it treats Elôhîm as merely a universal generic name for Deity, but
not as the proper name of the One God. We can easily convince ourselves
of this by contemplating the collections of speeches of the Prophets,
and the fundamental part of Deuteronomy, which stands nearer to the
prophetic spirit than any other part of the Pentateuch. Here we have
prevailingly only ‘Jehovah my (thy, our, Israel’s) Elôhîm,’ but these
expressions are often abandoned for the simple hâ-Elôhîm, which is
regarded as a proper name completely covering the name Jahveh.[697] But
in prophetical books in which the Elohistic appellations occur here and
there as proper names of the Deity, these cannot from their rare
occurrence serve as a counterpoise to the extensive use of the name
Jahveh. Their use can only be regarded as a reference to the past, in
presence of the then modern view of the Deity. The immediate question,
which still remains open after the results gained by the critical
school, in establishing the mutual relation of the two Divine names, may
be formulated thus: Whence comes it and what is the reason that the
Prophets occupy a position of repulsion towards the theological validity
of the idea of Elôhîm?
This antipathy is easily explicable and quite natural from the religious
and national position of the Prophets. We have already seen that the
idea of Elôhîm, if not actually borrowed, was at least confirmed by
outside influences, and that the Hebrews held it in common with the
Canaanites. And the consequences of its not having grown up in Hebrew
soil were exhibited in its further development, when, after the idea of
nationality had spent its short-lived flames, the Hebraised idea of God,
allied with the equally borrowed sacerdotal institution, generated those
immoral religious practices which are characteristic of the Canaanitish
decadence. Moreover, the fact that this theological conception was
originally borrowed and not native, was the very thing calculated to
make it offensive to the Prophets; and their antipathy to it caused them
to tie their religious view of the world, their moral convictions, nay
their whole God-loving soul, to a name which had hitherto remained in
the background, but which was now brought forward by their genius to the
front rank, and became the bearer of all that they thought and felt
concerning God.
In this sense, the Prophets were creators of Jahveism. The word Jahveh
had previously been a meaningless breath, a _flatus oris_, as I said
before. Now first it became an active power, as the expression of
opposition to the existing evil, the centre of the new aspiration
preached by the Prophets. Consequently, it is not the word and its
meaning that have the chief import here, but the civilising power
associated with the word, its force working on minds. This is not the
only instance in which a watchword has had an influence far beyond that
which was natural to it as a mere word; so that its original
signification has become a matter of indifference. In the word Jahveh
the National feature is the essential one.
§ 3. In connexion with this we must not forget that the Prophets have a
very living conception of a Creator when they speak of Jahveh, and that
most of the words existing in Hebrew for the idea of Creating, are
employed most frequently by the Prophets and especially by the
Babylonian Isaiah. Great stress is laid on the ‘Creation of Israel.’
Jahveh is the Creator of the Hebrew people. It is also undeniable that
the Prophets occupied themselves with finding a metaphysical definition
of the idea of Jahveh, and discovered a precisely expressed definition
in the well-known Ehye asher ehye, ‘I am he who I am.’ They lay stress
on the _unchangeableness_ of Jahveh: he is eternally unchangeable. But
it must, on the other hand, be borne in mind that the recognition of
Jahveh cannot have started from this sort of metaphysical speculation,
which does not, on this or on any other subject, naturally spring up
till a later stage of development of the original idea. The metaphysical
foundation of the idea of Jahveh must be subject to this rule, and
therefore the sentence Ehye asher ehye ‘I am who I am,’ must be assigned
to a later time, when Jahveism was already fully formed. Thus then it is
the Prophet Malachi, living late after the Captivity, who expresses the
sense of this formula in more ordinary language by the words ‘For I
Jahveh change not’ (III. 6). Another expression of the same idea is used
frequently by the Babylonian Prophet—the words anî hû ‘I am He,’ where
the pronoun hû does not refer back to anything mentioned before (Is.
XLIII. 10, XLVI. 4, XLVIII. 12). The second of these passages especially
shows that the formula anî hû expresses most emphatically the eternal
unchangeableness of Jahveh:
Hearken unto me, O house of Jacob,
And all the remnant of the house of Israel,
Ye that are carried from the belly,
Or lifted up from the womb,
Even to old age _I am He_.
And so the last passage has ‘I am He, I am the first, I am the last.’
We have this anî hû in a fuller form in the Song of Moses (Deut. XXXII.
39), as anî anî hû, and the former is probably an abbreviation of the
latter. But the latter is itself grammatically only a mode of expressing
by pronouns what Ehye asher ehye expresses by verbs.[698] Now the Song
of Moses and the Blessing of Moses, which is connected with it, are
easily proved by an examination of their contents to move in much the
same prophetical circle of ideas, except indeed that these ideas are
already mingled with views which prevailed later, at the time of the
compromise. To mention a few examples: the assertion that Jahveh made
and established Israel (vv. 6, 15), but that Israel forgot him that made
him (v. 18), the exhortation to the people to remember the days of old
(v. 7), and the reference to the Tôrâ appointed by Moses (XXXIII. 4),
vividly recall the speeches of the second Isaiah (XLIV. 2, LI. 13, XLVI.
9 etc.) and Malachi (III. 22 [IV. 4]). Besides these passages, Deut.
XXXII. 2 may be compared with Is. LV. 10 and Job XXIX. 22 _et seq._; v.
16 (where the idols are called zârîm ‘strangers’) with Jer. II. 25, III.
13, Is. XLIII. 12; v. 17 with Jer. XXIII. 23 (in both which the strange
gods are called ‘gods from near’). If the reading êsh dâth in the
Blessing of Moses v. 2 is correct, the word dâth points to a society
accessible to Persian words; and the passage in Deut. XXXII. 39, where
the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead is mentioned as a
recognised article of faith,[699] confirms this impression. Thus also
the anî anî hû[700] which occurs in this passage, compared with anî hû
which is used by the second Isaiah, is a proof that metaphysical
speculation on the idea of Jahveh arose only in the latest period of the
development of Prophetism.
§ 4. In the time of the earlier Prophets, however, the chief weight of
the Jahveistic confession was given to national and moral ideas.
The assertion which it is usual to insist upon, that Jahveh was the
National God of the Hebrews, is therefore true in a certain degree. It
is not true that the Prophets could conceive as the Familiar spirit of a
handful of Hebrews that infinite Idea towards which their deepest desire
and love was directed, which was to them the impersonation of that pure
holiness which is the end of the Prophets’ ethics, and which in their
eyes represents the infinite sublimity after which the prophetic spirit
nobly strove. But it is true that in the view of the Prophets, the
Hebrews were the first to understand Jahveh, and that the extension of
this understanding over all mankind is the ideal of Prophetism as it
affects the world’s history. If any one questions this cosmopolitan side
of the Jahveistic theology, he will probably be cured of his error by
impartially reading the speeches of the Prophets of all the various
phases of prophecy; _e.g._ for the earlier time Is. II. 2–4, words which
are almost literally repeated by Micah IV—a proof how deeply rooted in
the mind of the Prophets was the conviction there expressed,—and for a
later age, Is. LXVI. 18, 19. This great Prophet of the Captivity
addresses mankind in general: ‘Hearken to me, ye islands, and attend, ye
nations from afar’ (Is. XLIX. 1); and another Prophet of Israel in
Babylonia, who speaks of a common festival of all mankind, knows of no
Canaanites in the house of Jahveh (Zech. XIV. 16, 17). This cosmopolitan
character of Jahveism is most precisely defined by a somewhat earlier
Prophet, Zephaniah (III. 9, 10). No doubt it is true that in recognition
of Jahveh the Prophets regard the Hebrew nation as the centre, and Mount
Zion as the source of the streams of water which is henceforth to fill
the whole earth ‘as water covers the bed of the sea’ (Is. XI. 9); and
also that they treat Jahveh’s love of mankind as if the lion’s share of
it would accrue to his own people. But on the other side it is equally
true that, after the extension of the idea of Jahveh over the world,
which the Prophets lay down as the ultimate and highest aim of spiritual
effort, the prophetical view regards all nations of the earth, even
Egypt and Assyria, as equal before Jahveh, the common God of them all.
‘In that day shall Israel be third in alliance with Egypt and Assyria, a
blessing in the middle of the earth, whom Jahveh of hosts has blessed,
saying Blessed be my people Egypt, and the work of my hands Assyria, and
mine inheritance Israel’ (Is. XIX. 24, 25). It is, therefore, especially
in reference to the then present time, at which ideals were only
beginning to be framed by this free outlook to the future, that the
distinctively National character of the idea of Jahveh is emphasised.
This is very natural, since it was by national impulses that the
Prophets were roused into enthusiasm for Jahveh; for that enthusiasm, as
I have previously urged, was produced by an intense antipathy to the
foreign elements which confronted them chiefly in the idea of Elôhîm,
common to Israel and Canaan, and including all the abominations of the
Canaanitish worship, and all the laxity of manners introduced from
foreign parts into the higher ranks of society. With the Canaanites
dissolute forms of worship were results naturally developed out of the
previous history of their religion, and could be traced backwards to
their origin in Mythology. Being such, they could not have so ruinous an
influence on morals and character as among the Hebrews, who seized on
the immorality as such, without having had any share in the previous
historical stages which led to it. If for _unbelief_ we substitute
_absence of historical preparation_, the correct observation made by
Constant on Roman Polytheism is applicable to this case also: that
indecent rites may be practised by a religious nation without detriment
to purity of heart; but if unbelief takes hold of the nation, such rites
are the cause and the pretext for the most revolting corruption.[701]
The idea of Jahveh, therefore, according to the intention of the
Prophets, was to stimulate a return to National enthusiasm; and the zeal
against the spreading vice and immorality is directed more against the
foreign character of the vice than against the immorality itself. ‘O
house of Jacob,’ says Isaiah (II. 5–7), in close contact with the speech
in which he anticipates the moral redemption of mankind through beating
their swords into scythes and their spears into ploughshares, ‘come ye!
we will walk in the light of Jahveh. For thou hast forsaken thine own
people, O house of Jacob, because they (_i.e._ the members of that
house) are full of divination[702] and soothsayers, like the
Philistines, and join hands (_i.e._ contract friendship) with the
children of strangers, and their land was filled with silver and gold,
and there was no end of their treasures, and their land was filled with
horses and there was no end of their chariots.’ In these words we see
unequivocally how the ‘light of Jahveh’ is contrasted with foreign
customs. It ought to be observed that in Deuteronomy, the book which
stands nearer than any other part of the Pentateuch to the Prophets’
views on the world and religion, the collecting of much silver and gold
and horses[703] is censured (XVII. 16 _sq._), in fear lest the people
should be denationalised thereby and inclined towards the ‘foreign,’
which in Deuteronomy always means Egypt.
Many scholars hold the utterly incorrect view that the idea of Jahveh
was, even from the Egyptian age before the Exodus, the property of a few
_élites_, either Levitical priests or Prophets; a sort of esoteric
religion, into which no uninitiated could pry, and from which Prophetism
grew up. If this view were as correct as it is impossible, considering
the circumstances of the development of Hebrew religion, we should still
have to consider the first appearance of the idea of Jahveh quite
independently of any such secret society. And it must also be borne in
mind that Egypt was to the Hebrews a ‘House of slaves’ (bêth ʿabhâdîm),
as the Bible says (Ex. XIII. 3 etc.), not a Theological College. In
Egypt they appropriated very few religious ideas. Were it otherwise, we
should assuredly not have to wait till after the Babylonian Captivity to
find the belief in immortality among them. It is also a special
characteristic of the Prophetic Jahveism, that it insists that this idea
was destined to be universally recognised in the Hebrew nation itself;
and this contributes to the sublimity of the prophetic conception. In
contrast to the secret society cautiously locking up its mystic
knowledge, how grand looks a free corporation, whose hopes are
concentrated on the idea that at that time ‘I [Jahveh] will pour out my
spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters will prophesy, and
upon your slaves and handmaids I will pour out my spirit in those days;’
‘and all thy sons will be disciples of Jahveh;’ ‘and they shall all know
me, from the least to the greatest of them,’ etc. (Joel III. 1 _sq._ [28
_sq._], Is. LIV. 13, Jer. XXXI. 34).
It is almost self-evident that to the national enthusiasm of the
Prophets the political difference between the Northern and the Southern
Hebrews scarcely exists. The Prophets extended their influence over the
North as well as over the South; and Hosea especially addresses his
exhortation to both kingdoms, mentioning Judah in the first division of
his verses constructed in parallelism, and Ephraim in the second. The
Prophets even announce the reunion of the two sections of the Hebrew
state.[704] The Northern kingdom was naturally much farther removed from
the religious ideas of the Prophets than the Southern. The hierarchy of
Jerusalem, which grew out of a sort of theocratic system, might at least
exhibit some appreciation of the preaching of Jahveism; some trace of
monotheistic Elohism still existed there, but was quite foreign to the
North. The persecution of the Prophets was accordingly much more violent
and indiscriminate in the Ephraimite country than in the South, where
however it was not absent. The story of the Prophet Elijah (Êlîyâhû ‘My
God is Jahveh’), as given in the Book of Kings, is intended to depict
the furious persecution of the preachers of Jahveh. Elijah is a typical
Jahveist, placed by the prophetical writer who conceived him at a time
before true Prophetism was in existence among the Hebrews. As the
Prophet painted the character of the ‘Servant of Jahveh’ (ʿebhed Yahve)
for the future, as a type of human perfection, so Elijah serves for a
similar type in the past. The representatives of Jahveism succeeded in
making the person of Elijah so popular as to attract to himself various
remnants of ancient myths, as we saw in a previous chapter. But at
bottom Elijah is nothing but a type of the persecutions to which
Jahveism was exposed in the Northern kingdom on the part of the rulers
and priests. The prophetical historians, fond as they are of painting
historical personages of the Hebrew nation in colours borrowed from the
ideal of Jahveism, are also no less addicted to drawing up descriptions
of lives which are typical of Prophetism. Such a life is that of the
prophet Samuel, who is regarded as founder of the Schools of the
Prophets, and consequently of Prophetism itself. The portraiture of his
character, as opponent of an untheocratic monarchy, of the king who
showed himself deficient in national feeling by sparing the Amalekite
chief, and of a corrupt priesthood, is only a program of Hebrew
Prophetism, clothed in a biographical dress and expressing the Prophets’
sentiments in speeches. When the inevitable catastrophe came, and the
Northern kingdom fell first, and the subsequent overthrow of the
Southern kingdom put an end to all Hebrew independence, the Jahveists,
the most earnest representatives of the idea of Hebrew nationality,
accompanied the people into captivity. Then first began the time when
the Jahveistic ideas bloomed most freely and were taken up with greatest
enthusiasm. In the Captivity prophetic thoughts soared to their highest
point in the speeches of that immortal prophet whose name is unknown,
the so-called Second Isaiah. But we find there also representatives of
the sacerdotal formal religion—not, indeed, of the coarse sacerdotalism
of Jerusalem, for that was impossible without the central temple, bloody
offerings, and political independence—but of a certain direction of
religious thought. For, at the very time when idealistic Jahveism had
worked itself up to the doctrine of the ‘historical vocation of the
people,’ these were exciting the people’s hopes by visions, speaking of
the architectural proportions of the new temple that was to be built,
and drawing up arrangements for priests and sacrifices. Yet even this
school was considerably penetrated by Jahveism; it tacitly appropriated
the positive teaching of the Prophets, without, however, entirely giving
up the positive part of the sacerdotal system. Thus, far from the Temple
of Jerusalem, on the banks of the Chaboras, a compromise was effected
between the Prophetic and the Sacerdotal schools. This held sway over
the hearts of the Hebrews in the Captivity, and formed the mental and
religious basis of the Hebrew commonwealth at its restoration. It finds
its first expression in the Book of Ezekiel, which announces itself, and
probably correctly, as produced in the Captivity.[705] The first
beginnings of this compromise appeared before the destruction of the
Kingdom of Judah, under a king who had equal respect for Priests and
Prophets, and allowed himself to be influenced in religious matters by
both equally. The mark of this tendency to sink all differences between
Sacerdotalism and Prophetism is impressed on the Book of Deuteronomy,
which appeared at that time. This cannot be called a defeat of the
prophetical tendencies. It is not the destiny of ideals to be realised
in their native form and natural regardlessness of social and physical
obstacles; they are victorious if they succeed in forcing an entrance
into their former opponents’ sphere of view, and modifying that in their
own way. Now from the nature of the case, where a compromise is made,
especially a compromise like the one before us, not settled and
concluded by regular negotiation, but consisting of an unconsciously
performed balancing of opposing energies, such a settlement is very
fluctuating, and leaves open the possibility of a gradual leaning
towards one or the other of the two opposite principles. We discover
this fluctuation in the self-effected compromise when we contemplate two
books of the Pentateuch, between the composition of which lies the whole
catastrophe of the Captivity, the first throes and afterpains of which
urged the completion of the compromise by bringing home the necessity of
the cooperation of all the spiritual factors of human life: Leviticus
and Deuteronomy. Both these books combine together sacerdotal worship
and Jahveism; neither of them gives a direct negative to either of these
originally contrary factors. In both books we find both elements
represented, only with the difference that Leviticus sounds an eminently
sacerdotal, and Deuteronomy a prevailing prophetic and Jahveistic tone.
Both stand on the level of Jahveism, without however disdaining
sacerdotal worship and sacrifice. In the prophetical Books of Haggai,
Zechariah, and Malachi, and in the postexilian interpolations occurring
in that of the Babylonian Isaiah, the various stages of the compromise
may also be studied. Observe, for instance, the endeavour of Haggai (II.
11–15) to employ the sacerdotal Law (tôrâ) in a Jahveistic sense by a
moral application; Zechariah’s address to the High Priest (III. 3–7), in
which he speaks of a purification of the restored priesthood; and
especially the exhortation to the priests contained in the Book of
Malachi, which enable us to form a picture of a priesthood formed on
Jahveistic principles as conceived by the Prophet of the Restoration, in
contrast to the priesthood of the age before the Captivity, which was
the object of the passionate hatred of the Prophets.
§ 5. We have lingered over the general description of the Jahveism of
the Prophets longer than the symmetry of these investigations would
justify. There is now something to be said on the relation of Jahveism
to the Mythology of the Hebrews.
It is to be observed on this subject that pure Jahveism, as preached by
those Prophets who first formulated that ideal, had a long struggle with
the conservative leanings of the people and their rulers, and that in
the period before the Captivity it could not become a religious element
fitted to penetrate all strata of society. Jahveism could therefore
exercise but little influence on the narration of myths, _i.e._ on the
mode in which myths were propagated in the mouth of the people; for only
a new conception which penetrates the whole people can possibly
determine and give a direction to the transformation of a myth.
Moreover, Mythology was not a subject with which the Prophets felt much
sympathy. Within the frame of the Puritanical Monotheism which they
taught there was no suitable place for myths. Hence, also, the Prophets
take so little notice of the myths of their nation (a very little is
brought in by Hosea, chap. XII.); their frequent allusions to the story
of the destruction of Sodom and ʿAmôrâ (Gomorrah), are accounted for by
the obvious parallel which they drew between those ancient cities,
proverbial for their vice, and Jerusalem and Shômerôn (Samaria),
together with the respective fate of each. The silence of the Prophets
is no proof, although many wish to use it as such, that in their times
the stories of the Patriarchs were not yet in existence; sufficient
answer is afforded by the few cases in which reference is made to those
stories. Their silence is much rather a proof of the power which the
idea of Jahveh exerted over their souls, so filling them, that by its
side the forms of Patriarchs and Heroes shrivel into insignificant
persons, and the narrated events are so dwarfed that no religious
elevation can be derived from them. This also explains the tone of irony
assumed by the Prophet when he has occasion to allude to Patriarchs and
their stories. Thus, for example, Hosea in reference to Jacob, whom he
describes as deceiving his brother, as fighting against God, as
subservient to women (XII. 4, 5, 13 [3, 4, 12]), and the Babylonian
Isaiah in reference to Abraham, whose smallness in comparison with
Jahveh he expresses (LXIII. 16). I pointed out above (pp. 229, 230),
that this apparent degradation of Abraham is only directed against the
remembrance of the Patriarch’s divinity, and that in another passage
(LI. 1 _sq._) Abraham and Sarah are referred to as the ancestors of the
Hebrew nation. To keep alive the consciousness of derivation from
special ancestors was obviously not out of keeping with the National
tendency of Jahveism, but rather an essential means of promoting it. In
this sense the Babylonian Prophet’s address should be understood:
‘Hearken to me, ye that follow after righteousness and seek Jahveh! Look
to the Rock, whence ye were hewn, and to the Well-hole, from which ye
were dug: look to Abraham your father, and to Sarah that bore you!’ (Is.
LI. 1 _sq._) In the same sense Malachi also refers to the Patriarchal
age, saying, ‘Is not Esau Jacob’s brother? and I love Jacob, and I have
hated Esau’ (I. 2 _sq._). Therefore, also, there are special forms by
which the Prophets address the nation, such as ‘House of Jacob,’ which
is excessively frequent, and ‘House of Isaac’ (Amos VII. 16). These
forms were intended to remind them of their proper ancestry, and to keep
alive the consciousness of their national peculiarity, and thus it came
about that the names of ancestors were identified with the nation
itself. The words Jacob and Abraham are names of the Hebrew people, in
Micah VII. 20 and Is. XXIX. 22, among the earlier representatives of
Prophetism: ‘Thus saith Jahveh, who redeemed Abraham, concerning the
house of Jacob;’ ‘Thou givest truth to Jacob and favour to Abraham,’
_i.e._ to the Hebrew nation.
The prevailing idea, therefore, emphasised by the Prophet, is that of
derivation from ancestors other than those of heathen nations. The
details of the Patriarchal history are devoid of interest for him, and
personages without the character of ancestors still more so.
Consequently even Moses remains in the background. Not even Hosea gives
his name, though he says, ‘By a prophet Jahveh brought Israel up from
Egypt, and by a prophet he was preserved’ (XII. 14 [13]). Only in very
few passages, in one early prophet, Micah (VI. 4),[706] and one of the
later period, the Babylonian Isaiah (LXIII. 11 _sq._), is the
deliverance from Egypt mentioned coupled with the name of Moses. To the
Exodus itself frequent reference is made, and the story of it does
admirable service to the view of the theocratical vocation of the
nation. But it is not till after the Captivity that the Legislator
himself is brought into the foreground, in consequence of the compromise
between Jahveism and the formal legality of the priesthood (Mal. III. 22
[IV. 4]).[706] Whatever of the truly mythical still lived in the memory
of the people received from Jahveism a complete monotheistic
transformation. Jahveh is made the conqueror of the Dragon of the Storm
and of the Monsters of Darkness (see p. 27). Notice the numerous
questions in the theodicy in the Book of Job, which Jahveh puts in
opposition to the explanation of physical phenomena given by mythology:
‘Hath the rain a father, or who begot the drops of dew? Out of whose
womb came the ice, and the hoar-frost of the sky, who bore it?’ (Job
XXXVIII. 28 _sq._). Such are the questions asked by the Jahveistic
monotheist. Removed to this new sphere, all the myths are at once beset
with denials; the monotheist’s whole interpretation of nature and idea
of causality lead to One only—to Jahveh; at this stage the myth is
utterly overthrown. But the fact that a nation which in its primeval age
formed myths, at a late period of its existence witnessed the growth of
the direct negation of mythical ideas in its midst, is no reason for
treating the former existence of myths as questionable.[707]
But Jahveism acknowledged the duty of reforming the subject-matter of
legends, whenever a religious practice condemned by the Jahveists was
supported by legendary authority. Such a practice was Human Sacrifice,
which found support and justification in the story of the sacrifice of
Isaac. Here, therefore, Jahveism interfered, in the manner which we had
occasion to describe in the chapter on the method of investigating myths
(p. 45). In this passage, even in the form in which we have it after the
last revision, the will of Jahveh was manifestly introduced into the
second half with a polemical purpose to oppose that of Elôhîm who in the
first half demanded the sacrifice. But the case is quite different in
what modern Biblical critics call the Jahveistic portions of the
Pentateuch. As it is not the object of this book to write the history of
the composition of the Biblical _Literature_, I cannot enter into an
exposition of my views on the redaction to writing and piecing together
of those literary fragments which compose the Pentateuch, including a
full justification of those views. I will only briefly remark, that all
the legendary literature which we now have in the Pentateuch is already
more or less penetrated by Jahveism, and that only in the legal portion
are a few remnants of strictly Elohistic legislation preserved. The
literary form given to the mass of stories is itself the result of the
compromise between the older and the Jahveistic religious tendency. Just
as there are two books of law, Deuteronomy and Leviticus (to the latter
of which a few passages of law in Exodus and Numbers must be added),
both of which represent the compromise between the Sacerdotal and the
Prophetical tendencies, the sacerdotal view giving the fundamental tone
to the one, and the prophetical to the other, so is it also with the
mass of stories. Even what are called Elohistic documents are strictly
speaking Jahveistic in character, only that the name Elôhîm is admitted
to be appropriate to the ancient Patriarchal age, and Jahveism is
introduced as an historical event, dating from Moses. In opposition to
this, another work represents the more thorough-going Jahveism. Now when
the Jahveistic school came to terms with the popular religious views,
and these were penetrated by the fundamental truths taught by the
Prophets, the Jahveists did not disdain to get hold of the legendary
matter and work it up according to their own principles. If the
Patriarchs were really models of religious life, they must also have
been strict Jahveists; and, therefore, these so-called Jahveistic
documents describe the Patriarchs as living on completely Jahveistic
ground, Eve, Lemech, and Noah as calling the Deity Jahveh, and Cain and
Abel as offering sacrifices to Jahveh. As early as the time of Seth
commences the general adoration of Jahveh. The historic Israel is of
course to the Jahveistic writers more than to any others a ḳehal Yahve,
ʿadath Yahve, ‘congregation, community of Jahveh.’ With this principle
accords all else that the exegetical school has brought together to
characterise the Jahveistic narrator.[708] Moreover, in the Jahveistic
writings more than in any others particular attention is paid to what is
popular and national;[709] and, as would be expected from the strictly
national character of Jahveism, they are distinguished by a greater and
more eager zeal. I will pick out and draw attention to some terms
belonging to the peculiar circle of ideas of the Prophets, in order to
indicate the closer mutual relationship of the so-called Jahveistic
documents: viz. debhar Yahve ‘Word of Jahveh,’ and neʾûm Yahve ‘speech
of Jahveh.’[710] To anyone acquainted with the Prophetic literature it
is needless to dwell on the specifically prophetic character of these
two technical expressions. I call them _technical_ expressions with
special reference to debhar Yahve. For dâbhâr was used by the Prophets,
especially those of the later times, of the speech which they proclaimed
in the name of Jahveh (and in direct polemical opposition to another
technical expression, massâ, Jer. XXIII. 33 _sq._, which nevertheless
occurs again in later Prophets), just as the sacerdotal school which had
entered on good terms with Jahveism, when they laid stress on accordance
with the Law, called instruction in the Law tôrâ. Tôrâ and Dâbhâr bear
the same relation to one another as Kôhên and Nâbhî (Priest and
Prophet). Jeremiah (XVIII. 18) says, ‘They said, Come, we will devise
devices against Jeremiah; for the Tôrâ will not be lost from the Priest,
counsel from the wise, the Dâbhâr (word) from the Prophet: come, we will
wound him on the tongue, and not attend to any of his words (debhârâv).’
The same opposition of Tôrâ and Dâbhâr is found also in the words of a
prophet of the Restoration, Zechariah VII. 12: ‘They made their heart
adamant, lest they should hear the Tôrâ and the Debhârîm which Jahveh of
Hosts sent with his spirit by the agency of the former prophets.’[711]
How deeply the prophetic spirit after this compromise penetrated all
other schools is observable in the profounder piety which thenceforth
characterises Elohistic writings. We see this, for example, in the
Elohistic Psalms, composed by religious singers not yet accustomed to
the Prophets’ name Jahveh, but who now wrote to the glory and honour of
Elôhîm those sublime Songs which to this day kindle the devotion of
those who wish to raise their souls in prayer to God. In them a spirit
taught by the Prophets has penetrated the representatives of Elohism.
For as regards its outward manifestation in the choice of Divine names,
Elohism continues to exist even in the age of the Captivity: we meet
with strictly Elohistic narratives in the accounts of the Creation and
the Deluge composed at Babylon.
But we must refer to a comparatively late period the working-out of this
tendency to a compromise, in which the sacerdotal view had as much share
as the prophetical—a tendency which joined together in a higher unity,
as Teaching (tôrâ), the Statute (chuḳḳâ) and the Prophetic word of
Jahveh (dâbhâr). Consequently, the writing down of the traditions
conceived in this spirit must also be assigned to a much later age than
is usually done. However, we cannot speak here of any exact number of
years, but only indicate in general terms periods of various classes of
culture. Accurate dates can only be reached by more advanced historical
knowledge on the domain of Biblical Antiquity. Perhaps this will be
promoted by the constantly increasing certainty of the information to be
gathered from the historical texts of the Cuneiform Inscriptions with
reference to the History of Civilisation. But from the facts recognised
in recent times it may with confidence be inferred that the literary
activity of the Hebrews belongs in large part to the epoch of the
Captivity. It should also be mentioned in this connexion that Knobel
insists that the affairs of the interior of Asia were well known to his
Jehovist.[712] Such knowledge cannot be the result of the contact
established by the invasion. It demands closer and more friendly
relations, which would make it possible to learn such facts.
All this takes us into the epoch of the Captivity. That remarkable age
enriched the Hebrews’ sphere of thought with many things, to which we
will give our attention in the following chapter.
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Footnote 687:
With respect to the originality and the specifically Hebrew character
of the notion of Jahveh, I consider the most correct assertion yet
made to be what Ewald declared in reference to the alleged Phenician
Divine name Jah; for when we examine the passages and the data on
which Movers’ and Bunsen’s opposite view is based, their apocryphal
nature strikes us at the first glance. This is especially true (to
mention one case only) of the passage of Lydus, _De mens._ IV. 38. 14:
Οἱ Χαλδαῖοι τὸν θεὸν ΙΑΩ λέγουσιν ... τῇ Φοινίκων γλώσσῃ καὶ ΣΑΒΑΩΘ δὲ
πολλαχοῦ λέγεται κτλ (See Bunsen, _Egypt’s Place in Universal
History_, vol. IV. p. 193). As to the occurrence of the name Jahveh in
the Assyrian theology there is not yet sufficient certainty. Eberhard
Schrader, who refers to it, imagines the name to be borrowed from the
Hebrew (_Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament_, p. 4).
Footnote 688:
To this may be added that the Moabite Stone speaks of the vessels of
Jahveh which king Mesha carried off as plunder from the Northern
kingdom (line 18). Kuenen goes too far in finding a connexion between
the worship of Jahveh in the Northern kingdom and the figures of bulls
(_Religion of Israel_, I. 74 _et seq._)
Footnote 689:
In the article _Ueber die nabathäischen Inschriften von Petra, Hauran
u.s.w._, in the _Zeitsch. d. D. M. G._, 1860, XIV. 410.
Footnote 690:
This must not be placed in the same category with cases in which the
insertion of [ ] can be explained phonologically (Ewald,
_Ausführliches Lehrb. der hebr. Spr_. § 192. _c_; _Böttcher_, I. 286).
See the Agadic explanation of this, which I have quoted in the
_Zeitsch. d. D. M. G._, 1872, XXVI. 769.
Footnote 691:
The changes of name mentioned in 2 Kings XXIII. 34, XXIV. 17, should
also be considered here. It is not probable that these changes were
ordered by the Kings of Egypt and of Babylon; for in that case the
names received in exchange would have been quite different, Egyptian
and Babylonian respectively in form (compare Dan. I. 7). The change of
Elyâḳîm into Yehôyâḳîm is especially noticeable, for it is a direct
alteration of an Elohistic into a Jahveistic name. Such a change is
usually the simple consequence of a religious revolution, as is seen
in other cases. Thus, e.g. King Amenophis IV., when he directs his
fanaticism against the worship of Ammon, and places that of Aten in
the foreground, changes his Ammonic name into _Shu en Aten_, ‘the
light of the solar orb.’ See Brugsch, _L’histoire d’Égypte_ (1st ed.),
I. 119, and Lenormant, _Premières civilisations_, I. 211. Of Moḥammed
also we are told that he altered those portions of his followers’
names which savoured of idolatry, substituting monotheistic terms;
thus one ʿAbd ʿAmr had his name changed to ʿAbd al-Raḥmân (Wüstenfeld,
_Register zu den genealogischen Tabellen_, p. 27). The pious
philologian al-Aṣmaʿî always calls the heathen Arabic poet
Imru-l-Ḳeys, Imru Allâh, changing the name of the heathen god Ḳeys
into the monotheistic Allâh (Guidi on Ibn Hishâmi’s _Commentary etc._,
Leipzig 1874, p. XXI.).
Footnote 692:
As Pope in the Universal Prayer: ‘Father of all: ... Jehovah, Jove, or
Lord!’—TR.
Footnote 693:
For instance Strauss, in the _Zeitsch. d. D. M. G._, 1869, XXIII. 473.
But not only Jahveh, but even Elôhîm was brought from China. The glory
of publishing this eccentric idea to the world belongs to M. Adolphe
Saïsset, who wrote a whole book, entitled _Dieu et son homonyme_,
Paris 1867, to prove very thoroughly that the Elôhîm of Genesis was
really—the Emperor of China! The book is 317 octavo pages long.
Footnote 694:
_Vergelijkende Geschiedenis_, pp. 555, 561.
Footnote 695:
To this group belongs, on Arabian ground (besides the well-known
ʿarrâf and kâhin), the muḥaddath ‘the well-informed;’ on whom see De
Sacy’s _Commentary on Ḥarîrî_, 2nd ed., p. 686.
Footnote 696:
Mommsen, _History of Rome_, edition of 1868, III. 446 _et seq._
Footnote 697:
This is meant only as a general assertion, and is the general
impression left by the Prophetical books. There are, in this as in
other respects, various grades perceptible between the different
Prophets. The prophetical Jahveistic idea is not so powerful and
exclusive in all as in the Babylonian Isaiah.
Footnote 698:
‘I am I’ (hû being equivalent to the verb _to be_)='I am who I
am.'—TR.
Footnote 699:
See Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, III. 41.
Footnote 700:
Bunsen must be named as the writer who lays the most stress on the
importance of this anî anî hû, bringing this formula into connexion
with the metaphysical definition of the idea of Jahveh (_God in
History_, I. p. 74 _et seq._). Lessing’s ‘Nur euer Er heisst Er’ (only
_your_ He is called He, _Nathan der Weise_, I. 4) is with justice
adduced by Bunsen.
Footnote 701:
B. Constant de Rebecque, _Du Polythéisme Romain_, II. 102, quoted by
Buckle, _Civilisation_, II. 303.
Footnote 702:
It is best to read with Gesenius miḳḳesem for miḳḳedem.
Footnote 703:
Hosea XIV. 4 [3] must also be noted, where the alliance with Assyria
is condemned in the words ‘Asshur will not save us; we shall not ride
on horses.’ See also Zech. IX. 10, X. 5, Micah V. 9 [10].
Footnote 704:
See Ezek. XXXVII. 15–28.
Footnote 705:
See on the other side Zunz in the _Zeitsch. d. D. M. G._, 1873, p.
688, thesis 14 _et seq._
Footnote 706:
These two passages (Mic. VI. 4 and Mal. III. 22 [IV. 4]) appears not
to have been noticed by Michel Nicolas in his '_Etudes critiques sur
la Bible_,' Paris 1862, I. 351, where he says of Moses, ‘Son nom ne se
trouve que deux fois dans les écrits des prophètes qui sont parvenus
jusqu'à nous—(_Esaie_, LXIII. 12; _Jér._ XV. 1).’
Footnote 707:
I have given particular prominence to this on account of the opposite
view taken by Max Müller in his _Chips_, I. 361 _et seq._
Footnote 708:
His fondness for humanising God by anthropomorphic expressions is the
only feature, the reasons for which are not patent.
Footnote 709:
See Knobel, _Die Bücher Numeri, Deuteronomium und Josua_, pp. 539,
554.
Footnote 710:
See Knobel, _Die Bücher etc._, p. 529.
Footnote 711:
The relative clause is dependent upon _Debharîm_ only.
Footnote 712:
See Knobel, _Die Bücher etc._, p. 579.
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