The Madness of King Saul: Mental Illness in Ancient Times

by Timothy S. Wilkinson 

               Hollywood loves stories about demon possession; it has become a mainstay of horror movies. The Exorcist, the Exorcism of Emily Rose, Paranormal Activity, and The Amityville Horror all purport to depict actual cases of demon possession.  Emily Rose is based on the experiences of Anneliese Michel; The Exorcist on a patient with the pseudonym Robbie Manheim; The Amityville Horror on the Lutz family of Amityville, New York.

                Despite Hollywood’s assertions, though, all three of these famous cases are highly controversial—and not just among skeptics. Independent legal and scientific inquiries into all three share a common theme:  in all three cases, doctors and researchers have claimed that mental illness, not possession, was the culprit.

                Of course, some believe this diagnosis is based primarily on a refusal to believe in the supernatural. It should be noted, though, that many of the people who question the validity of these accounts do believe in demonic possession—they just didn’t see clear evidence of it in these cases.

                People have been confusing mental illness and possession for millenniums. It wasn’t until the time of Hippocrates that “doctors” even began to consider “madness” as a disease. The Greeks identified melancholy, hysteria, and phobias in their medical literature, but well into medieval times it was commonly believed that madness was the work of malevolent (or sometimes benevolent) spirits.

                Long before this, though, Bible writers were describing the symptoms of mental illness in amazing detail. Perhaps the most famous example is that of Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar. In the book of Daniel chapter four Nebuchadnezzar, the ruler of the greatest empire in the world, was struck with madness that sent him from his throne into the forests and fields where his hair and nails grew long and “vegetation he began to eat just like bulls” (Daniel 4:33). Modern doctors would call this lycanthropy, defined as the sickness of people who believe themselves to be changed into an animal, and who imitate the voice or cries, the shapes or manners of the animal.

                But an even more fascinating case, in my opinion, is that of King Saul. Saul belonged to a prominent Israelite family. When he was chosen as king he was also shy—he hid among the supply wagons to avoid being brought before all the people and crowned. Initially he was a good king—although his shyness seemed to continue to manifest itself in that he refused to live the life of a king, instead remaining in his family home and plowing his fields himself.

                By the time his successor, David, entered the picture, though, Saul had changed. He began to suffer fits of depression. His advisors recommended music therapy, and a teenaged David was brought in to play the harp for him. Shortly thereafter, David became a national hero when he slew the Philistine giant Goliath, and at that point Saul’s madness became much worse.

                When David returned from another battle against the Philistines, Saul interpreted the people’s celebration of David’s victory as a personal attack. Twice while David was trying to soothe the king with the harp, Saul attempted to kill the young man by throwing a spear at him (1 Samuel 18:11). Saul believed David was after his throne, and hatched elaborate plots to have him killed. When these failed, Saul again attacked David physically, and the young warrior fled from the palace into the wilderness.

                Saul’s son, Jonathan, recognized his father’s madness for what it was and confronted him about it. Saul’s response was to accuse Jonathan of being in league with David—and even to throw a spear at his own son one evening during dinner.

                Saul now began to hunt David through the wilderness, intent on destroying him and anyone who allied themselves with him. This might seem understandable for a king who believed his throne was in jeopardy, but what is telling is the strangeness of Saul’s attitudes during this period. Gathering his followers at his home in Gibeah, Saul begins to whine about his predicament: “You have conspired, all of you, against me; and there is no one disclosing it to my ear when my own son concludes a covenant with [David], and there is no one of you having sympathy for me and disclosing to my ear that my own son has raised up my own servant against me as a lier in ambush the way it is this day” (1 Samuel 22:8).  Next, he has an entire town of priests and their families slaughtered for daring to help David—but then, when David confronts Saul (yelling down at him from a mountaintop in the wilderness), Saul bursts into tears and begs David’s forgiveness.

                Some time later, David has the chance to kill Saul and refrains; in the exchange between the men Saul once again bursts into tears, blesses David, and tells him that, with God’s help, David will be successful in taking over the king’s throne. He follows up this admission by continuing to hunt David through the wilderness.

                In the end, King Saul fell upon his own sword after a battle. But looking over his actions, it is not hard to identify symptoms characteristic of paranoia. The official “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders” of the US mental health industry gives the following as symptoms of paranoia:

• unfounded suspicions; believes others are plotting against him/her
• perceives attacks on his/her reputation that are not clear to others, and is quick to counterattack
• maintains unfounded suspicions regarding the fidelity of a spouse or significant other

Additional symptoms can include dramatic mood swings, melancholy, extreme anger or fear, and the belief that anyone who disagrees with the sufferer is part of a plot or conspiracy against him.

All of these are manifest in King Saul. In recording these details, the Bible writer Samuel may have inadvertently provided us with the first diagnosis of paranoia.

There Is the King Sitting In the Gate: City Gates In Bible Times

“There Is the King Sitting In the Gate”

City Gates in Bible Times

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

  

The Eternal Throne Chronicles take readers through many of the wars and battles fought by the nation of Israel in the years leading up to and during King David's reign. In trying to accurately capture the experience of warriors during that time, it is helpful to get a clear picture of the fortifications relied upon by ancient armies.

          The cities of ancient Palestine, like all cities for thousands of years, relied on massive walls for their defense. The city’s gates were the weakest point in its defenses and so, logically, they had as few as possible. Most early and all smaller cities had only one. The idiom “to take possession of the gate” meant to conquer or overcome. Gates were such an important element of defense that much superstition surrounded their construction among the pagan nations. Canaanites frequently offered a human sacrifice when putting up a gate.

                Biblical descriptions and archaeological discoveries have shed light on ancient gates. The 107^th Psalm describes doors plated with copper and held closed with crossbars of iron; this would help to reduce the risk of fire. Babylon apparently had such gates (Isaiah 25:2). Some ancient Syrian cities have been found with gates of stone, solid slabs more than ten feet high.

                As siege equipment and techniques developed, the designs of walls and gates improved to match. Kings built gates with overlapping walls  in which two gates, one inside the other, formed a courtyard between them. Alternatively they would put walls at right angles to each other to form a similar courtyard; these were arranged so that entering attackers would have to turn left, exposing their right (shieldless) side to attack. Often the passage through the vestibule would have as many as six pilasters arranged in parallel sets, narrowing the passageway at three places. Rooms formed in the corners were used as guard chambers. This courtyard served a dual purpose: it forced attackers to penetrate two gates and it allowed defenders to dump hot oil on and shoot arrows at attackers from the walls all around them.

                Typically towers were constructed on either side of gates to bulwark the fortifications and and to serve as lookout posts. Sometimes small, door-sized gates (called posterns) were installed near the gate. These gave easier access to the city during peacetime, and allowed the defenders to release attacking sorties during a siege.

                The shade provided by the walls made the gate a good place for public assembly and public proclamation. They often had rooms in the walls for merchants to stay in. People gathered at the gate for legal judgments, to conduct business, and to hear the latest news (Deuteronomy 16:18; 2 Samuel 19:8).

                The great city of Jerusalem had a number of famous gates that helped define the parts of the city.

Sheep Gate

This gate was rebuilt by High Priest Eliashib, named because sheep and goats were brought through it—either for sacrifice or to bring them to the nearby market. It is believed that the gate was located near the temple.

Fish Gate

Hezekiah built this gate next to the fish market. This became the passage through which Tyrian fishermen brought their wares.

Gate of the Old

Apparently this was one of the original entrances to the city.

Gate of Ephraim (Nehemiah 8:16)

This guarded one of the northern entrances to the city, so people leaving through it would be traveling in the direction of the tribe of Ephraim’s territory. Near this gate was a large public square that was filled with tents and temporary shelters when the people celebrated the Festival of Booths.

Corner Gate (2 Chronicles 26:9)

This gate was, of course, located at one of the corners in the wall. Apparently it was near the Tower of the Bake Ovens, where the city’s commercial bakers made their wares.

Valley Gate

This marked the exit from the city that led to the great garbage dump in the Valley of Hinnom (Gehinnom).  Jerusalem’s inhabitants carried or carted their refuse to this valley and tossed it into smoldering fires that were fed continuously with sulfur and lime. From this constantly burning vale comes the word gehenna, one of the words translated as “hell” in the King James Version of the Bible.

 Gate of the Ash-heaps

Alternatively known as the Dung Gate or the Gate of Potsherds, the latter probably because here fragments of broken pottery were ground to make cement commonly used for plastering water cisterns. The Valley of Hinnom and the spring at En-rogel are near this gate, and both of them were known for their high-quality clay deposits. Many scholars believe that this was the center of the potter’s industry. Just across the Valley of Hinnom from this gate was the now-famous Potter’s Field, purchased by the Pharisees with the 30 pieces of silver returned to them by a remorseful Judas. This was a busy gate, since it guarded the primary route to the spring at En-rogel where many citizens went for water.

Water Gate (Nehemiah 8)

Not far from the temple area was the spring of Gihon. Inhabitants of Jerusalem going to the spring for water would pass through the Water Gate. Here Ezra congregated the people to hear a reading of the Torah and to build shelters and tents to celebrate the Festival of Booths.

Horse Gate

Our modern view of gates is shaped by the huge examples found in late Medieval castles (or at least in Hollywood portrayals of those castles). Gates, though, were made as small as was practical—a narrower opening was more easily defended. The Horse Gate was a wider gate designed to accommodate the passage of teams of horses, chariots, and wagons. This gate gave access to the palace and temple, likely destinations for mounted travelers.

Inspection Gate

This was also known as the Gate of Muster and the Gate of the Guard. It seems to be a location from which soldiers and armies sallied forth; its name also obviously indicates that it provided room for commanders to inspect their assembled troops before marching.

The Legendary Wealth of Solomon-- Part I

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

                King Solomon’s fabulous wealth has become the subject of myth, legend, fiction, and film. After all, no ancient historical ruler is described with anything near his wealth—Solomon’s rule was the pinnacle of Israel’s power, politically, economically, and geographically.

                So it is perhaps not surprising that many today view the Bible’s descriptions of Solomon’s opulent reign as exaggerations—especially in light of the tendency to doubt anything that comes from the Bible. But were the Bible writers exaggerating in 1 Kings Chapters 9 and 10? Could it possibly be true that:

• ·         Hiram regularly sent shipments of 450 talents of gold from Ophir
• ·         The Queen of Sheba gave Solomon a gift of 120 talents of gold, plus balsam oil and jewels
• ·         Solomon’s annual domestic revenue was 666 talents of gold
• ·         Solomon had 200 shields each plated with 600 shekels of gold and 300 bucklers each plated with 3 minas of gold
• ·         He sat on a throne of gold plated ivory
• ·         All his tableware was gold
• ·         His fleet of ships brought gold, silver, ivory, apes, and peacocks from Tarshish every three years
• ·         Rulers from all around brought him tribute in gold, silver, armor, balsam oil, horses, and mules
• ·         He had 1500 chariots and 12,000 chariot horses

How much wealth is this? It is a challenge to calculate the values of ancient monetary measurements. There are basically two approaches: (1) take the weight of the measurements and calculate their value based on today’s gold and silver prices or (2) figure out the purchasing power of a certain amount of, say, gold in Bible times and find the modern amount that has that same purchasing power.

The second method has some distinct advantages. In Jesus’ day, a laborer made one Greek denarius for 12 hours of work. Washington State, where I reside, currently has a minimum wage of about $8.50 per hour. Twelve hours of work would yield a laborer about $100—a modern value for the denarius. (Of course if we did the simpler—but less accurate—conversion to the value of the weight of a gold denarius today then it is worth $164).

Next we have to convert that to Hebrew currencies. A gold shekel weighs three times as much as a gold denarius, so the shekel would be worth $300. Using that as a standard we can find the values of other Old Testament amounts: the bekah ($15), the mina ($15,000), and the talent ($900,000).

Now the record of Solomon’s income starts to come into focus. His annual domestic revenue was just under $600 million. The regular shipments from Ophir were worth just over $400 million. His gift from the Queen of Sheba was worth about $108 million. The 200 shields and 300 bucklers hanging in his palace were worth about $52 million.

Once we factor in the monies and trade goods brought to him as tribute by kings from nations all around Israel, Solomon’s annual revenue can be conservatively estimated as $1 billion. That’s $2.7 million dollars a day, or $114,000 per hour, or $1,902 per minute, or $32 per second. Twenty-four hours a day. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year.

And that’s liquid revenue—not net worth.

Of course, Solomon started out his reign with the wealth that his father, David, had put aside for the construction of the Temple of Jehovah. David had accumulated roughly $187 billion before his death; some of this went into the Temple’s construction and the remainder into Solomon’s treasury. If you started spending $187 billion at the rate of $1 per second and did that continuously, day and night, it would take you 5,929 years to spend it all.

Are these mind-boggling amounts just the fancy of Hebrew chroniclers? Are they fantastical elements of an ancient myth? Or is there reason to believe that Solomon and the nation he ruled were truly this rich? 

Tomorrow’s blog will answer that question…

For more information about life in Bible times, check out my website at www.timothywilkinson.net.

The Sons of Zeruiah: Heroes and Villains

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

                King David of Israel had a sister (apparently considerably older than David) who had three sons: Joab, Abishai, and Asahel. All three of these nephews of the king were famed warriors among David’s men, and their history is integrally linked with that David and his throne.

                They were mighty men, but they were also ruthless and impulsive. The third brother, Asahel, was “one of the thirty” greatest warriors of David’s army. His career was cut short early when he insisted on pursuing Saul’s uncle and military commander, Abner during a battle at (  )_. Abner was considerably older, and Asahel was known for his ‘fleetness of foot.’ Abner kept warning Asahel to stop pursuing him and, when Asahel would not (no doubt eager for the glory of killing the famed warlord), Abner rammed his spear backwards, impaling Asahel with its butt. Joab never forgave Abner for this act.

                The second brother, Abishai was the “chief of the thirty;” in fact, he was their leader and “had a reputation rivaling the three” greatest warriors in the nation. In one battle he struck down 300 enemy soldiers single-handedly. His ruthless, impulsive nature is apparent from two episodes in his life. First, when he accompanied a fugitive David in sneaking into Saul’s camp, David had to restrain him from executing the mad king. Later, during Absalom’s rebellion, a man named Shimei shouted curses at David as the king was driven from Jerusalem; twice David had to stop Abishai from killing the man.

                Abishai took the lead in killing 18,000 Edomites and in routing the Ammonites under his brother’s leadership. When Sheba rebelled against king David in his later years, Abishai loyally led the thirty in battle against him. Perhaps his most noteworthy accomplishment occurred during David’s last recorded battle. A giant Philistine warrior made the King his target and David, in his old age, was no match for him. David would have been killed had not Abishai arrived and killed the Philistine hero.

                But it was Joab, the eldest son, who was the real hero of the story and one of David’s closest allies and counselors throughout the celebrated king’s reign. He fought alongside his brothers against Abner at the time of Asahel’s death. In the ensuing war, Ish-bosheth takes Abner to task over his actions toward the king’s concubines; offended Abner turns traitor and makes a covenant with David, promising to unify the entire kingdom under his rulership. Joab doesn’t trust Saul’s uncle—after all, Abner had hunted David for years while serving as Saul’s military commander. Joab charges Abner with spying. Together with his brother, Joab plots and kills Abner in revenge for Abner’s slaying of Asahel. It seems likely that Joab also realized that he was eliminating a possible rival for the position as head of David’s army.

                In the middle of David’s growing empire is a well fortified city inhabited by a sometimes-friendly Canaanite nation: the Jebusites. That city is Jerusalem. For centuries the Israelites have been unable to conquer the Jebusites because of Jerusalem’s mighty walls. David offers his knights a challenge—whomever conquers the city will become the supreme commander of the royal army. Joab accomplishes the feat by leading a contingent of David’s mightiest soldiers up a well shaft and into the city, fighting their way to the gates and opening them to the surrounding army. David is true to his word: Joab becomes the General of the army and is given ten attendants to bear his weapons for him—including one of the Mighty Men, Naharai the Berothite (perhaps as his personal bodyguard).

                Joab is the kind of commander kings dream about. He helps David conquer Edom, uses a clever strategy to conquer an alliance of Ammonites and Syrians, conquers the Ammonite capital of Rabbah but waits for David to arrive to ceremonially capture the city. Joab not only cooperates in David’s plan to murder Bathsheba’s husband Uriah, but improvises on the plan to better conceal David’s complicity in the affair.

                During Absalom’s rebellion Joab loyally supports David—but then disobeys David’s direct order not to kill Absalom; Joab slaughters him while Absalom is hanging, helplessly entangled, in a tree. For this act of disobedience, David removes Joab from his leadership of the army and appoints Amasa (Joab’s cousin) in his place. Joab continues to play a vital role in military activities, including the defeat of another rebel named Sheba. But during the pursuit of Sheba, Joab calls Amasa close, grabs his beard as if to kiss him, and runs him through.

                Inexplicably, David returns Joab to his command position at the head of the army. Some scholars believe that David was afraid of Joab’s power—and this seems to be borne out by David’s words at the end of the king’s life. While David is lying on his deathbed, Joab joins the conspiracy of David’s son Adonijah who is determined to take the throne from David’s chosen heir, Solomon. Joab must by this time be in his 80’s or 90’s. David makes Solomon promise to execute Joab and, after Adonijah’s rebellion is put down, Solomon sends one of the Might Men, Benaiah, after him. Joab flees to the Tabernacle and clings to the sacrificial altar, hoping to be saved by his presence on “holy ground.” Benaiah isn’t moved—he executes the last of the sons of Zeruiah in the Tabernacle sanctuary.

                The three sons of Zeruiah share a remarkable number of similarities to the three sons of Lot in Arthurian legend: Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth—but that is a subject for another blog.

For more information about life in Bible times, check out my novels Prophet of Israel and Judge of Israel, available from www.timothywilkinson.net.

                

David and Bathsheba: Bible Writing at its Most Brilliant

The Subtext of 2 Samuel Chapter 11

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

                The brilliance of 2 Samuel Chapter 11 may be unparalleled in the extraordinary brilliance of the entire account of David’s life. Robert Alter (1999) comments: “…it seems as though the writer has pulled out all the stops of his remarkable narrative art in order to achieve a brilliant realization of this crucially pivotal episode” (Alter, p. 249). I wanted to share some of the complexities and nuances of this amazing bit of writing.

11 And it came about at the return of the year, at the time that kings sally forth, that David proceeded to send Jo′ab and his servants with him and all Israel, that they might bring the sons of Am′mon to ruin and lay siege to Rab′bah, while David was dwelling in Jerusalem.

                The Hebrew word for “messenger” is malakhim; the word for king is melakhim. The difference is impossible to see in Hebrew, which is written only in consonants. This ambiguity is deliberate—it sets up one of the key contrasts in the upcoming account: the difference between those who do (the will of God) and those who stay at home.  Polzin writes: “The verse clearly doubles back on itself in a marvelous display of narrative virtuosity: at a time when kings go forth, David did not, making it a time, therefore, when messengers must go forth; at a time when messengers go forth, David, remaining in Jerusalem, sent Joab, his servants and all Israel to ravage Ammon.”

                The David and Bathsheba episode is not just a moral parable—it illustrates the dangers of monarchy. David is now a sedentary king who has too much time on his hands (“was dwelling” at the beginning of verse 11 is the Hebrew antonym of “sally forth” at the end of the verse). Throughout the whole account David operates through others—messengers and intermediaries. This creates all kinds of unforeseen complications. Nathan keeps reminding us that when we try to use others for our own ends, things never turn out the way we hope they will.

² And it came about at the time of evening that David proceeded to rise from his bed and walk about on the rooftop of the king’s house; and from the rooftop he caught sight of a woman bathing herself, and the woman was very good in appearance.

The wealthy of Israel took a siesta after lunch. Apparently, David has been lounging in bed all afternoon.

 ³ Then David sent and inquired about the woman and someone said: “Is this not Bath-she′ba the daughter of E·li′am the wife of U·ri′ah the Hit′tite?”

“David sent”—once again using others to do his work.

It is highly unusual for a woman to be identified by both her father and husband. Perhaps this is because both Eliam and Uriah are members of the Gibborim, David’s elite warriors, the equivalent of the Knights of the Round Table. Uriah is a Hittite—a foreigner. The author makes use of a clever irony here: the man who turns out to be the perfect soldier is a foreigner, while the pure Isrealite, David, betrays and murders him.

 ⁴ After that David sent messengers that he might take her. So she came in to him and he lay down with her, while she was sanctifying herself from her uncleanness. Later she returned to her house.

The author, Nathan the Prophet, uses a string of verbs (sent…take…came…lay…sanctifying) to convey rapid, single-minded action. But in the middle of this string, one verb switches its subject from David to Bathsheba. He writes “she came in to him”. When the verb “come into” has a masculine subject and a feminine object, it refers to sexual intercourse.

⁵ And the woman became pregnant. Consequently she sent and told David and said: “I am pregnant.” ⁶ At this David sent to Jo′ab, saying: “Send to me U·ri′ah the Hit′tite.” So Jo′ab sent U·ri′ah to David.

Bathsheba sent, then David sent and asks Uriah to be sent and Joab sends him. The theme of using others for one’s own ends, instead of acting for oneself, is once again repeated.

⁷ When U·ri′ah came to him, David began to ask how Jo′ab was getting along and how the people were getting along and how the war was getting along. ⁸ Finally David said to U·ri′ah: “Go down to your house and bathe your feet.” Accordingly U·ri′ah went out from the king’s house, and the king’s courtesy gift went out following him.

“Feet” can be a euphemism for the male sex organ, but probably that is not what Nathan is doing here. Most likely he is echoing his earlier reference to Bathsheba’s bathing, which led to sex. David is hoping that this bathing of the feet will lead to the same.

 ⁹ However, U·ri′ah lay down at the entrance of the king’s house with all the other servants of his lord, and he did not go down to his own house. ¹⁰ So they told David, saying: “U·ri′ah did not go down to his own house.” Upon that David said to U·ri′ah: “It is from a journey that you have come in, is it not? Why have you not gone down to your own house?”

The read might expect that the phrase “Uriah lay down” would have been followed with “with his wife.” But Uriah abides by the mandates of  the Torah, which require soldiers to practice abstinence during times of military action.

Nathan also reminds us here that people may not do what they are “sent” to do—leading to unforeseen problems.

 ¹¹ At this U·ri′ah said to David: “The Ark and Israel and Judah are dwelling in booths, and my lord Jo′ab and the servants of my lord are camping on the face of the field, and I—shall I go into my own house to eat and drink and to lie down with my wife? As you are living and as your soul is living, I shall not do this thing!”

The verbs “dwelling” and “camping” and “lie down” are all cast in a negative light—they reflect David’s decision to “dwell” in Jerusalem while he sends forth others to do his bidding.

Moshe Garsiel suggests that the latter part of this verse tells us a lot about the subtext of this account. When Uriah first arrives from the front, he does not know what his wife has been up to—and Nathan conveys that by not specifically mentioning sex in Uriah’s conversation with David. But by verse 11, the court rumors have made their way to his ears, and so Uriah specifically brings up sex with his wife—as though to prick the conscience of the king. It may also be noteworthy that he does not add the deferential “my lord the king” to his statement.

¹² Then David said to U·ri′ah: “Dwell here also today, and tomorrow I shall send you away.” Therefore U·ri′ah kept dwelling in Jerusalem on that day and the day following. ¹³ Further, David called him that he might eat before him and drink. So he got him drunk. Nevertheless, he went out in the evening to lie down on his bed with the servants of his lord, and to his own house he did not go down. ¹⁴ And it came about in the morning that David proceeded to write a letter to Jo′ab and send it by the hand of U·ri′ah. ¹⁵ So he wrote in the letter, saying: “PUT U·ri′ah in front of the heaviest battle charges, and YOU men must retreat from behind him, and he must be struck down and die.”

More “sending” by David. It seems likely that Uriah guesses what is in this letter. Courageously, he goes to face his doom.  (There is something strikingly distasteful--and Shakespearean (think Rosencrantz and Guildenstern)--in having Uriah carry his own death warrant to his executioner).

¹⁶ And it came about that while Jo′ab was keeping guard over the city he kept U·ri′ah put in the place where he knew that there were valiant men. ¹⁷ When the men of the city came on out and went fighting against Jo′ab, then some of the people, the servants of David, fell and U·ri′ah the Hit′tite also died.

Joab doesn’t do as he is told. He recognizes that David’s plan (to have the men retreat and leave Uriah to be killed) is so clumsy it will immediately reveal to everyone that it is deliberate. So he decides that accomplishing the king’s will is important enough to sacrifice a few good men. David’s guilt grows.

¹⁸ Jo′ab now sent that he might report to David all the matters of the war. ¹⁹ And he went on to command the messenger, saying: “As soon as you finish speaking to the king about all the matters of the war, ²⁰ then it must occur that if the rage of the king comes up and he does say to you, ‘Why did YOU have to go so near to the city to fight? Did YOU men not know that they would shoot from on top of the wall? ²¹ Who was it that struck down A·bim′e·lech the son of Je·rub′be·sheth? Was it not a woman that pitched an upper millstone upon him from on top of the wall so that he died at The′bez? Why did YOU men have to go so close to the wall?’ you must also say, ‘Your servant U·ri′ah the Hit′tite died too.’”

Joab sends this messenger with very bad news, but provides him with a get-out-of-jail-free card: as long as he mentions Uriah’s death, David can hardly be angry about anyone else’s bad decisions.

The Abimelech that Joab refers to (from Judges Chapter 9) begged his armor bearer to kill him so that it would not be said that a woman killed him. Joab is subtly calling David’s attention to the fact that he knows a woman is the source of this disaster.

²² So the messenger went and came and told David all about which Jo′ab had sent him. ²³ And the messenger went on to say to David: “The men proved superior to us, so that they came out against us into the field; but we kept pressing them right up to the entrance of the gate.

Robert Alter (1999) comments: “The astute messenger offers a circumstantial account that justifies the mistake of approaching too close to the wall: the Ammonites came out after the Israelites in hot pursuit; then the Israelites, turning the tide of battle, were drawn after the fleeing Ammonites and so were tricked into coming right up to the gates of the city” (p. 255).

 ²⁴ And the shooters kept shooting at your servants from on top of the wall, so that some of the servants of the king died; and your servant U·ri′ah the Hit′tite also died.”

The messenger doesn’t bother to use Joab’s historical lesson about Abimelech. He knows what David wants to hear—Uriah is dead. This also shows the apparent public knowledge of David’s sin and plot.

 ²⁵ At that David said to the messenger: “This is what you will say to Jo′ab, ‘Do not let this matter appear bad in your eyes, for the sword eats up one as well as another. Intensify your battle against the city and throw it down.’ And encourage him.”

The king tosses back a sort of soldier’s cliché. He also gives an implicit admission that Joab made the right call in allowing other soldiers to die to accomplish his plan.

²⁶ And the wife of U·ri′ah got to hear that U·ri′ah her husband had died, and she began to wail over her owner. ²⁷ When the mourning period was past, David immediately sent and took her home to his house, and she came to be his wife. In time she bore to him a son, but the thing that David had done appeared bad in the eyes of Jehovah.

Bathsheba’s mourning is shorter than Gertrude’s in Hamlet.

Throughout this entire episode, David has never been seen anywhere but in his house. Robert Alter (1999) comments: “Only now after the adultery, the murder, the remarriage, and the birth of the son, does the narrator make an explicit moral judgment of David’s actions. The invocation of God’s judgment is the introduction to the appearance of Nathan the prophet, delivering first a moral parable “wherein to catch the conscience of the king” and then God’s grim curse on David and his house” (p. 256).

For more information about life in Bible times, check out my novels Prophet of Israel and Judge of Israel, available from www.timothywilkinson.net.

Music and Musicians in the Bible

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

Ancient Israel lay at a geographical crossroads that exposed it to a tremendous diversity of cultures. It is unreasonable to assume that Israelite arts developed in a vacuum—there can be no doubt that the music of these people was at least partly shaped by that of the nations all around them.

With that being said, Israelites also saw the need to avoid adopting many of the practices of these pagan nations because of the Torah's requirement that they remain "holy" in God's sight. These pagan nations used music and sensuous dancing to arouse worshippers to participation in religious orgies. Any music that sounded similar to this must have been repulsive to the Israelites. (Puritans condemned Bacchanal music during the Reformation, and many Christian churches today discourage their followers from listening to overtly sexual, violent, or angry music).

Nevertheless, music was a constant and integral part of the Israelite's life. People sang, played instruments, and danced when armies returned successfully, when the Ark of the Covenant was transported, at weddings, funerals, and feasts, and on many other occasions. In fact, families would often hire professional musicians—including professional mourners—to attend such events to guarantee the quality of the music. After the Temple was built—and even in the years leading up to it—Levite musicians were highly organized into choruses and orchestras. 1 Chronicles 9:33 seems to indicate that they were professionals who were excused from other responsibilities in order to focus on their craft.

We have very little detailed information about either the instruments used or the type of music played—the Bible is cryptic and sparse on the subject. (In 1968 Maureen M. Barwise claimed to have deciphered some very ancient Egyptian musical hieroglyphs into "sheet music" and played the resulting tunes. Her claims have been met with very mixed acceptance). There seem to be a few basic instruments that most scholars agree about:

• Halil: this was a hollow pipe of bone or wood with a reed similar to a clarinet's
  
• Mashrokitha: this appears to refer to some kind of large flute
  
• Hazora: this was a metal trumpet or bugle, typically made of silver or bronze
  
• Kinnohr (Chinner): this is a sheepgut-strung harp apparently shaped like the Sea of Galilee (which is why that body of water is also called the 'Sea of Chinnereth')
  
• Menanaim: similar to the Egyptian sistra, this seems to have been a type of rattle made by stringing metal plates on metal rods in a wooden frame
  
• Meziltaim: copper cymbals
  
• Metsilloth: probably small copper rattles; at Zechariah 14:20 they are attached to the bridles of horses
  
• Nebel: the word "nebel" literally refers to a skin bottle or jar; perhaps this refers to the swollen-looking soundbox of this small harp
  
• Qeren: a wind instrument made of an animal's horn
  
• Shophar: a Qeren made from a ram's horn
  
• Tof: a large drum played with either bare hands or sticks, and large enough that two people could play it at once
  

Instruments were of high quality—the scriptures speak of harps being made of "choicest alum." Apparently, the musicians were of high-quality as well—an Assyrian bas-relief shows King Sennacherib demanding male and female musicians from King Hezekiah as tribute. Curt Sachs makes the following observation in The Rise of Music in the Ancient World: East and West: "The choruses and orchestras connected with the Temple in Jerusalem suggest a high standard of musical education, skill, and knowledge. It is important to realize that the ancient Western Orient had a music quite different from what historians of the nineteenth century conceded it…Though we do not know how that ancient music sounded, we have sufficient evidence of its power, dignity, and mastership."

Music was also used therapeutically: in 1 Samuel 16:23 to calm Saul's nerves, and attempted in Daniel 6:18 to do the same for Darius.

In the historical fiction novels of Eternal Throne Chronicles, I have tried to capture some of the importance of music—both sacred and secular—to the Israelite people. While writing I often listen to recordings of traditional Middle Eastern music as well as music inspired by the same, hoping that some of its uniquely Oriental feelings would find their way into my work. I leave it to my readers to judge if it worked or not.

www.timothywilkinson.net

The Cherethites and the Pelethites

At 2 Samuel 8:18 Nathan wrote that "Benaiah the son of Jehoiada [was over] the Cherethites and the Pelethites." From this time on, these otherwise unidentified groups serve as David's personal bodyguard. The lack of any further information about them has led to many decades of speculation as to their identity. After all, David had at his disposal the Gibborim, the "Mighty Men," his own personal Knights of the Round Table, made up of the greatest warriors in the land—and yet he chose to be protected by these two groups. He assigned one of his most trusted and deadly generals, Benaiah, to be their leader, but none of them are included in the lists of the Gibborim. This fact seems to indicate that the Cherethites and Pelethites were not part of the regular army, that they enjoyed an autonomy not shared by any other groups.

Whoever they were, they were extraordinarily loyal to David himself and not just to his position as king. In 2 Samuel 15 when David's son Absalom forcibly deposed his father it appears that most of the army supported Absalom—but the Cherethites and Pelethites stayed with David. They did the same during Sheba's rebellion in 2 Samuel 20, and even when the highest ranking officer in the army, Joab, sided with the usurper Adonijah after David's death the Cherethites and Pelethites supported Solomon, David's chosen heir.

The most popular identification for these groups is rooted in the name Pelethite. In Hebrew, adding a single character to "Pelethite" gives you the word "Philistine." The Cherethites are connected to the Philistines at 1 Samuel 30: 14 and 16, Ezekiel 25:16 and Zephaniah 2:5. The translators of the Greek Septuagint translated "Cherethite" as "Cretan"—likely alluding to the Philistine's origins on the island of Crete (Caphtor) (Amos 9:7). Many scholars, therefore, believe that the Cherethites and Pelethites were Philistine warriors, either of different tribes or serving in different positions, who served King David. Some see in the name "Cherethite" a relation to the Hebrew root karath, meaning "cut off". They feel this indicates that the Cherethites were some kind of executioners, but there is no evidence beyond this single etymological detail to establish this.

In 1 Samuel 27 David flees the land of Israel to escape the murderous intent of King Saul. In this case he flees to the Philistine city of Gath and comes under the protection of Achish, the Axis Lord of Gath. Eventually, David earns Achish's trust and he is given the city of Ziklag for himself and his men. Little detail is given regarding David's activities during his 16 months there. Nathan does record that David took the opportunity to raid the Geshurites, Girzites, and Amalekites, thereby laying the groundwork for his future hold on the land as king. (David told Achish that he was attacking Israel so that Achish would have no reason to question David's loyalty).

Apparently, though, when David left Philistia after the death of Saul, he was joined by a significant number of Philistines whose loyalty he had somehow earned. In 2 Samuel 15:18, Nathan specifies that David is supported by "all the Cherethites and all the Pelethites and all the Gittites, six hundred men that had followed him from Gath." It is a testament to David's incredible charisma that these people who had once considered him "enemy number one" would now follow him into a foreign land and pledge their lives to his protection. Gath was Goliath's hometown—if any of the Philistines might have had reason to hate David, it would have been the Gittites. But now they willingly became his servants. It must also have been a comfort to David to be guarded by soldiers who were bound to him by nothing but their personal loyalty—a characteristic that became important when David was usurped by Absalom.

The Pelethites are not mentioned after David's reign. Some feel that they might have returned to Philistia after his death. The Cherethites, though, may be referred to in 2 Kings 11:4 and 11:19 under the name "Carian bodyguard." The Masoretic text translates "Cherethites" as "Carian bodyguard" at 2 Samuel 20:23. It seems possible that both Pelethites and Cherethites, or at least some of them, continued to serve as the defenders of the Davidic line for some time after David's death.

These details give us a fascinating picture of the nature and structure of David's army. Joab was the general over the regular army. An elite group of warriors known as The Three was headed by Josheb-basshebeth the Tahchemonite. A second elite group known as The Thirty (the equivalent to Arthur's Round Table Knights) was headed by Abishai, Joab's brother. David's personal bodyguard, the Cherethites and Pelethites, were led by Benaiah (who had no familial association or loyalty to Joab). Out of these diverse groups David forged an army that, for nearly forty years, was undefeatable.



For more information about life in Bible times, check out my novels Prophet of Israel and Judge of Israel, available from www.timothywilkinson.net.

 

Of Hearth and Home: Common Houses in Ancient Israel

Of Hearth and Home:

Common Houses in Ancient Israel

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

                The design of houses in the Middle East has remained fairly uniform through the centuries, so that even today one can find families living in houses that are virtually identical (in architecture, at least) to the homes of three millennia ago.

                The Israelites started out living in tents, as did many of the peoples of the Levant—and even after they had built more substantial homes, it was not uncommon for families to live in tents during the summer harvest season. Cave homes were also relatively common, like the one Lot lived in (Genesis 19:30) or the more elaborate caves of the Edomites at Petra (Obadiah 3).

                The standard house within the borders of a town, though, was blockish in design, comprised of a single rectangular room for the very poor, or a larger square with an open courtyard in the center for the wealthier. The roof was flat and typically reached by means of an external staircase—either outside the home or within the courtyard.

                Inside was usually a single room, around 10 feet square. The thick brick walls had niches carved in them for storing food and utensils, and a single, narrow window to let in light and let out smoke; it might be covered with a wooden lattice (Proverbs 7:6) in summer and a skin or wool curtain in winter. The door was nothing more than a curtain in poorer homes; wealthier citizens could afford a wooden door with a bar.

                The floor was packed earth, often in two levels: a lower section into which one entered when coming through the door, and a raised portion at the back where the family slept and ate. Historians speculate that one of the reasons for this raised section was to keep livestock from walking on the sleeping family when the animals were brought inside at night during winter. In any case, to our modern noses the houses would have been redolent with the smell of animals and smoke.

                Furniture was a luxury. Common people had a straw mat for a bed, and their “table” was simply a rug laid on the floor during meal times. The wealthier had couches, divans, tables, and chairs—sometimes exquisitely carved.

                Homes were constructed of bricks of sun-dried mud or fired clay until the time of King David. Then, with the availability of iron tools, houses of cut stone became more common. Unless the home was of finished stone, it was sealed with mortar or whitewash, designed to protect it from the weather. The idea was only moderately successful—these homes required constant maintenance. The walls provided a warm, protected environment for vermin—no doubt the rustling of rodents, birds, and snakes were common noises in the Israelite home.

                Homes in Galilee were typically built using black basalt. Those constructed along the Mediterranean coast were made of yellow sandstone, and the rest of the country used white limestone.

                The roof of the Middle Eastern home served many purposes and was, in some ways, the most important area of the house. It was constructed by laying brushwood across sycamore (cedar or cypress for the wealthy) beams, then binding and covering it with layers of mud. These roofs were, as you can imagine, particularly susceptible to rain. A heavy roller was kept handy to pack the mud down again after precipitation had softened it.

                In spite of this precaution, roofs leaked. Since the mud that made them was full of seeds and roots, plants began to sprout after each rain; roofs must have turned green during the wet season.

                The roof provided a cool, quiet place for the family to gather, for women to do their work, and for crops to be dried for storage. The Torah required that family heads install a parapet around the roof—no doubt because so much time was spent atop it that falls could have been common.

For more information about life in Bible times, check out my novels Prophet of Israel and Judge of Israel, available from www.timothywilkinson.net.

The Climate of Ancient Palestine

The Palestine I present in the Eternal Throne Chronicles is obviously a far lusher, forested, and climatically milder place than we find it to be at present. As with all things Biblical, there is a great deal of ongoing debate as to the ecological and meteorological conditions of Israel three millenia ago.

The ecology of modern-day Israel, though, is remarkably diverse. From the snow-covered slopes of Mount Hermon it is possible to view, in once glance, broad and barren deserts of yellow sand, lush green jungles, fertile valleys of checkered fields, plateaus and steppes of garigue, sandy Mediterranean beaches, majestic forests of oak and cedar and more. During the rainy season streams, lakes, and swamps appear temporarily all over northern Israel, and the fens south of Lake Hula once served as home to crocodiles and hippos. There are few places on earth with such variety of geography and climate within so small an area.

Many researchers believe that the dawn of the Iron Age in the tenth century resulted in a dramatic increase in the harvesting of timber, since the production and forging of iron require enormous quantities of fuel. Archaeology seems to support (or at least allow for) this interpretation. Israel was once a place of great forests, the remnants of which can still be glimpsed in a handful of preserves. (I have included below a few photographs of one of the surviving forests in present-day Lebanon, and a link to some further pictures). At some time the entire Plain of Sharon was a mighty, sprawling forest of oaks; the forests of Hereth, Mahanaim, Ephraim, and Bashan were all celebrated in scripture for their majesty and density. When forests are referred to by Bible writers, they are generally connected to an element of danger or mystery (David's hiding place in 1 Samuel 22:5, the site (and cause) of Absalom's death in 2 Samuel 18).

There is also some evidence that the current aridity of the Levant results in part from the logging of its mountains. When the land was still covered in trees, especially the hills and mountains of the Shephelah and Judah (which would have been taller three thousand years ago), clouds traveling inland from the Mediterranean would have been much more likely to drop their precipitation before evaporating over the Arabian Desert. This increase in rainfall, added to the fertility of a soil that had not been depleted by millenia of farming, erosion, and irrigation, add up to considerably more lush Israel.

The town in which I live in Washington averages only 15 inches of precipitation per year--almost 10 inches less than Jerusalem's current average. But Sequim is surrounded by lush forests of fir, hemlock, and cedar covering the slopes of the snow-capped Olympics. Admittedly, there is more to climate than rainfall, but this fact does allow us to entertain the possibility that the Israel of King David's day was a land with more in common with portions of northwest Washington today than with the barren hills of modern Judea.