Random Jottings

"The Last Hero" by G.K. Chesterton

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 20:29:00 +0000

I came across this poem this weekend and had to share it. It's not really related to the subject of my blog, but it is a brilliant piece of writing. Enjoy.

The Last Hero

The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,
You never loved the sun in heaven as I have loved the rain.
The chance of battle changes -- so may all battle be;
I stole my lady bride from them, they stole her back from me.
I rent her from her red-roofed hall, I rode and saw arise,
More lovely than the living flowers the hatred in her eyes.
She never loved me, never bent, never was less divine;
The sunset never loved me, the wind was never mine.
Was it all nothing that she stood imperial in duresse?
Silence itself made softer with the sweeping of her dress.
O you who drain the cup of life, O you who wear the crown,
You never loved a woman's smile as I have loved her frown.

The wind blew out from Bergen to the dawning of the day,
They ride and run with fifty spears to break and bar my way,
I shall not die alone, alone, but kin to all the powers,
As merry as the ancient sun and fighting like the flowers.
How white their steel, how bright their eyes! I love each laughing knave,
Cry high and bid him welcome to the banquet of the brave.
Yea, I will bless them as they bend and love them where they lie,
When on their skulls the sword I swing falls shattering from the sky.
The hour when death is like a light and blood is like a rose, --
You never loved your friends, my friends, as I shall love my foes.

Know you what earth shall lose to-night, what rich uncounted loans,
What heavy gold of tales untold you bury with my bones?
My loves in deep dim meadows, my ships that rode at ease,
Ruffling the purple plumage of strange and secret seas.
To see this fair earth as it is to me alone was given,
The blow that breaks my brow to-night shall break the dome of heaven.
The skies I saw, the trees I saw after no eyes shall see,
To-night I die the death of God; the stars shall die with me;
One sound shall sunder all the spears and break the trumpet's breath:
You never laughed in all your life as I shall laugh in death.

Weapon of the Giant Killer: The Sling

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 15:46:00 +0000

Weapon of the Giant-Killer:

The Sling

I am convinced that the story of David and Goliath is famous mostly because of the way little boys' brains work.

I speak from experience. There are a lot of lessons and stories I heard as a child. Since my parents are avid students of the Bible, many of those stories came from the pages of that book. Of course, there are certain ones that stood out to me: Jonah being swallowed by a huge fish, Christ walking on water, the flood of Noah's day, the parting of the Red Sea. But no story stuck in my memory and imagination like the one that took place in the Valley of Elah in the eleventh century B.C.E., when a young Israelite boy marched alone to do battle with a giant champion of the nation of Philistia. The account has everything a little boy could hope for in a gripping story: a fearless, skilled, child hero, a terrifying, cruel-hearted giant warrior, a home-made weapon, victory snatched from the jaws of defeat, and the highest of stakes. If there is a little boy anywhere who, after hearing this story for the first time, did not go outside and pretend to slay giants--well, in my humble opinion, there is something wrong with him.

The sling itself is one of the most ancient weapons known to man--as old as spears, atlatls, and bows. It is represented is various ancient cave drawings and oral histories, but the earliest extant sling comes from the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen. Probably originating as something similar to the Paleo-American bolas or the Asian surijin (in which the weight is permanently attached to the string), the sling is both simple and incredibly powerful. Modern slingers have achieved distances of more than 1500 feet at a velocity of nearly 300 feet per second. In Bible times, the projectiles used were stones from stream beds ranging from two to four inches in diameter and sometimes weighing as much as a pound.

When I was fourteen, I made my first sling. I had never used one before, but--from pictures of David and Goliath--knew you were supposed to whirl it around your head and let go of one end. I did, and the one-inch diameter stone hurtled into a stand of nearby cedar trees with the satisfying sound of cracking branches. I was stunned to see a branch fall from one of the trees and swoop to the ground. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the stone had struck the branch--more than an inch in diameter--near the trunk and had severed it as cleanly as the blow of an axe.

The sling pictured below is a recreation of the one found in Pharaoh Tutankhamen's tomb. It could be similar to the one used by David; there are other designs that are just as likely. But when I finished this one, the first thing that I did was take it outside and launch a stone at the row of poplar trees across the street.

The rock hurtled through the trees with a satisfying cracking sound, and a branch swooped down to the ground at my feet.

Goliath--here I come.

Late Bronze Age/Early Iron Age Middle Eastern Sling

The Two Eternal Thrones (This is a long one!)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 21:43:00 +0000

The following is a lengthy essay that inspired The Eternal Throne Chronicles. I published this paper several years ago in an effort to show why I believe that the Bible accounts of King David are the original source material for the legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

I know--it's long. But it's worth the time.

The Two Eternal Thrones

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

It is unquestionably one of the most celebrated and retold stories in human history. Its heroes are among the most widely recognized characters in the western world. It has not only survived, but remained popular for over a thousand years, and an unceasing stream of books, films, and art still flow from this seemingly inexhaustible reservoir.

It is the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

In spite of all of its incarnations, there are elements of the story that remain fairly constant and have become part of popular culture: the otherworldly origin and supernatural powers of the wizard Merlin. King Uther’s lust for Queen Igraine and the unforeseen importance of the offspring of that union. Arthur’s training by Merlin. Arthur’s selection as king by his pulling of the sword from the stone. The new king’s unification of the squabbling tribes of Britain under a powerful, central monarchy. Arthur’s magical sword Excalibur. His gathering of the Knights of the Round Table, including a valiant trinity of brothers from Orkney: Gawain, Gaheris, and Agravayne. The quest for the Holy Grail. The disastrous love triangle between Arthur, his queen Guinevere, and one of his knights, Lancelot. Arthur’s battle against his rebellious son, Modred, at Badon Hill that leads to the downfall of the kingdom. Arthur’s disappearance, and the promise that he will one day return to lead his people to an era of peace and prosperity.

Where did it all come from? Who really was King Arthur, and what is the origin of this enduring, extraordinary story?

The question has been hotly debated for centuries. To some degree, it is a question of what one means by “origin.” The historical origin of a king named Arthur? There is no shortage of candidates to choose from; from the 5^th century Brythonic king Riothamus, to the7th century king Anwyn, to the Penine king Arthwys, to another Arthwys, King of Elmet, to a Scottish prince named Artur. (Ford, 2007) One of the leading theories is that he was a “heroic British cavalry general named Arturius” who “halted the pagan Saxon invaders with their Pictish and Anglian allies…and in 517 won a decisive victory at Mount Badon…He fell in 538, at the Battle of Camlan, near Glastonbury, which was both the seat of an ancient pagan cult and a Christian shrine associated with St. Joseph of Arimathea. There his knights secretly buried him.” (Graves, 1962)

But there is more to origin than the source of a name. Perhaps the more important question is: Where did the stories come from? It has been clearly established that, by and large, the events in the Arthurian saga are not historical. So who was the king, and whose the kingdom, on which the legends were based?

I believe that the answer to that question can be found in yet another widely known story, this time a historical account written in the tenth century B.C.E.: the story of King David of Israel.

The Earliest Sources

Let us trace the development of the Arthurian legend to put this theory to the test. The earliest sources that refer to the famous king share almost nothing with the modern legend save the name. Some see references to Arthur in ancient Welsh bardic tales about the hero Bran the Blessed. Bran bore the title Arddu (pronounced Arthū) and possessed a magic cornucopia called Cor Benoit, which appears to have become one of the sources for both the Holy Grail and the name of the Grail castle, Corbenic. (Cor may have been mistranslated as cors, or body, and become a reference to the Body of Christ).

A series of elegies supposedly composed by the bard Aneirin around the year 638 called Y Goddodin contain one of the first known references to Arthur by name when, in discussing the valor of a particular warrior in the tale, the author mentions that he ‘was no Arthur.’ Similarly, the Death Song of Cynddylan (circa 655) metaphorically describes valiant warriors as ‘whelps of Arthur.’ (King Arthur in Literature)

Sometime around the year 730 in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People St. Bede the Venerable records details of the Battle of Badon Hill and names Ambrosius Aurelianus and Vortigern (but not Arthur) as participants. (King Arthur in Literature)

A century later, the Historia Brittonum (attributed to the Welsh monk Nennius) includes tales of the wizard Merlin (called by Nennius “Ambrosius” and based on the Welsh folk-hero Merddyn Wyllt) and the Battle of Badon Hill. (Matthews, 1989) In this account, Arthur is there, but not as king—he leads the army as the dux bellorum, or military commander.

A Latin collection of Welsh history, The Annales Cambriae was written sometime around 970. It also mentions the “Battle of Badon, in which Arthur carried the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ on his shoulders for three days and three nights and the Britons were victors.” It also includes a reference to “the strife of Camlann in which Arthur and Medraut fell.” The Anales also mentions the battle of Arfderydd and says that following the battle “Myrddin (Merlin) went mad.” (Green, 2007)

Arthur next appears in the tenth century Welsh tale The Spoils of Annwfyn, leading his war band (including a knight named Llwch Lleminiawg, considered by many to be the original Lancelot) on a series of expeditions into the underworld. (Matthews, 1989) It is generally accepted that this story summarizes a number of Arthurian tales that already existed when it was written. This tradition continues with the stories Culhwch and Olwen and The Dream of Rhonabwy in the famous medieval collection The Mabinogion (probably written between 1060 and 1200). Interestingly, several of these tales contain references to the Cauldron of Annwfyn, a bowl that has the power to heal and/or return life to the dead. Some scholars believe that this may be another root of the legend of the Holy Grail, although that is by no means a consensus view. (Matthews, 1989)

In the Mabinogion “the magnetic figure of Arthur drew to him a vast panoply of Celtic heroes, whose honour it became to serve at his court.” (Matthews, 1989) This is, of course, echoed in every following version of the story—the assemblage of the Knights of the Round Table. The Mabinogion details the superhuman exploits of these warriors that brought them to Arthur’s attention.

Here we begin to see the first Biblical parallels—although taken on their own they would seem nothing more than a literary commonality. Nathan the Prophet, author of the Bible book of 2 Samuel follows the same pattern as the author of the Mabinogion. King David gathers his gibborim, his “Mighty Men,” and 2 Samuel chapter 23 gives us the backstories of these knights and their feats of valor.

The History of the Kings of Britain

But the origin of the story as it has come down to us today really begins with the pseudo-historical work of a Bishop of St. Asaph named Geoffrey of Monmouth. Claiming that he was translating a “certain very ancient book written in the British language” given him by one Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, in around 1135 he wrote Historia Regum Britanniae. (Matthews, 1989) In his writings, Geoffrey specifically stated that he intended to portray Arthur as the one who would make Britain “a new Israel.”

Merlin the Enchanter appears early in Historia. He is a prophet with supernatural powers who serves as an advisor to Arthur throughout his reign. When he dies, Arthur’s kingdom begins to fall into decline. He corresponds to the Biblical prophet Samuel, who likewise manifests supernatural powers (1 Samuel 7:10, 1 Samuel 12:18) and serves as an advisor to David. After Samuel’s death, David’s kingdom begins to fail.

In Geoffrey’s account, Vortigern is threatened by Saxon invaders and unwisely shows them mercy, leading to years of warfare. In the Bible book of 1 Samuel, Israelite King Saul is likewise threatened by foreign invaders and shows mercy to their king, Agag (1 Samuel chapter 15). For this he is condemned by the prophet Samuel and told that his kingship will not last (1 Samuel 15:22, 23).

As the story continues, Vortigern’s successor, Uther Pendragon, sees the wife of the Duke of Tintagil, the Lady Igraine, and immediately lusts after her. With the help of Merlin, Uther lures the Duke to his death so that he can bed his wife, a union that results in the birth of a child named Arthur, who is destined to become king. This episode appears to be a clear reference to another event in 1 Samuel. King David sees Bathsheba, the wife of one of his knights, Uriah the Hittite. With the help of his military commander, Joab, David has Uriah sent to his death while the king takes Bathsheba to his bed. (2 Samuel 11) Although the child of this union dies, the son that is born afterward is named Solomon, another prince destined to be king.

In Geoffrey’s account, Arthur follows up his inauguration by defeating the Saxons and his other enemies throughout Europe, eventually uniting “the various petty kings and chieftains who had reasserted their claims to the land after the last vestiges of Roman rule can to an end.” (Matthews, 1989) Arthur’s leadership produces a united monarchy that ushers in a period of peace. According to the Bible writer Samuel, David also welds the feuding (Judges 8:1, 9:1-57, chapter 12:1, 15:11, 20:1-48) tribes into a united monarchy, and then begins expanding the empire’s borders in every direction.

Near the time of his coronation, Geoffrey’s Arthur learns that a giant from a foreign land is terrorizing Britain. The local knights are all too afraid to challenge this champion. Arthur travels to the scene with his knights Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere (rooted in the Celtic fire god Cai and the war-god Bedwyr) but, after seeing the giant, decides to face the monster on his own. The king kills his enemy with a single blow to its brow, and then has its head cut off and carried as a trophy back to their camp. From this and later exploits, Arthur gains the reputation as a giant-killer and eventually rids the kingdom of these monsters. (Green, 2007)

In all likelihood, parts of this story originated in ancient stories of the Welsh hero Lugh who, in Cath Miage Tuired, slays a giant with a slingstone. (Green) It is easy, though, to recognize in this account the famous Biblical story of David and Goliath. Once again, a giant from a foreign land (in this case one of the Rephaim who have settled in the Philistine city of Gath) is terrorizing Israel, and the local knights are too afraid to answer Goliath’s challenge to single combat. David kills Goliath with a single slingstone to the forehead, then cuts off his head and carries it as a trophy back into the Israelite camp. During later years of his reign, he and his knights defeat a number of other giants (1 Samuel chapter 17) until all mention of the Rephaim disappears from the Bible.

In Geoffrey’s account, while Arthur is gone fighting the Romans under Ceaser Tiberius his son Modred steals the king’s throne. Arthur returns to a civil war against his own son which culminates in Modred’s death and Arthur’s mortal wounding. King David faces a similar insurrection when his son, Absalom, steals the throne of Jerusalem and drives the kingdom into civil war. (2 Samuel chapters 15 through 17) In the ensuing battle Absalom is killed and David never recovers from the tragedy. (2 Samuel 18:33)

Wace, the Canon of Bayeaux

We know little about the Anglo-Norman writer Wace, other than that his work, Roman de Brut, written around 1155, is primarily a translation of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae. In the “translation” process, however, he does add the idea of the Round Table and gives Arthur’s sword the name Excalibur (from Caledfwlch in Welsh, Latinized to Caliburnus by Geoffrey of Monmouth).

Chrétien de Troyes

The French poet Chrétien de Troyes composed a series of narrative poems between c.1170 and c.1185 supposedly based on an unnamed source book given him by his patron, Count Philip of Flanders. Chrétien gives us the stories of Arthur’s greatest knights. (Matthews, 1989) In Perceval, le Conte du Graal the knight Perceval sees a graal—in this account a wide, deep dish or bowl containing a single Mass wafer which is all that sustains a quasi-Christian character known as The Fisher King. (Loomis, The Grail: From Celtic Myth to Christian Symbol, 1991) Chrétien also introduces Camelot and the tragic love triangle between King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and one of Arthur’s knights, Lancelot (perhaps based on the Irish warrior god Lugh Lamhfada).

Of course, as already mentioned, the love triangle in the Arthurian story mirrors David’s illicit relationship with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah, one of David’s knights.

Gerald of Wales

The famous churchman Gerald of Wales authored seventeen popular and well-respected books of British history between 1156 and 1223. In one of them, he writes that he was at Glastonbury Abbey in 1190 or 1191 when the monks there exhumed the body of King Arthur from his grave. It is now widely accepted that the monks of Glastonbury invented the “exhumation” as a publicity stunt to draw pilgrims to the abbey. I mention the account only to demonstrate that it was not uncommon for churchmen of the time to use the legend of King Arthur for their own agendas—be it by inventing his grave or inventing events in his life.

Robert de Borron

It is to the Burgundian knight and poet Robert de Borron that we owe some of the latest additions to the legend. His work Le Roman du Graal was comprised of three poems: Joseph d’Arimathea, Merlin, and Perceval. I write was because all but one and a half of the poems are lost to history; we known of their contents from prose versions that are also believed to have been written by de Borron between 1191 and 1202.

He also Christianized the legend, explaining Merlin’s supernatural powers by presenting him as the offspring of the devil and a nun, adding some detail to the story of Joseph of Arimathea’s possession of the Grail, and introducing the now-famous character of the Fisher King. Le Roman du Graal is filled with Christian symbology: a fish that represents Christ, the punishment of false disciples, sin as the source of want among the people, a “godhead” of three Grail-keepers. (Matthews, 1989)

But it is from his poem Merlin that de Borron’s most memorable contribution comes. Here we first find mention of the Sword in the Stone, a symbol by which the true king of Britain can be identified. Merlin brings the kings and leaders of the land to his test of their right to rule: a sword plunged through an anvil which sits atop a block of stone. The various tribal leaders of the country are gathered around the stone, and each of them tries his hand unsuccessfully at removing it. But it is the youngest one present who is successful and is proclaimed by Merlin to be the rightful king.

De Borron’s drawing of a sword through an anvil from a stone is, of course, a fairly straightforward metaphor for the production of weapons-grade metal from raw ore, a fitting subject for the story of a leader who may have seen his people through a part of the transition from bronze to iron. King David found himself in the same position. In the days of his predecessor, Saul, the Philistines had established such a monopoly on the production and repair of iron that Samuel reports “there was not a smith to be found in Israel…and all the Israelites would go down to the Philistines to get each one his plowshare or his mattock or his axe or his sickle sharpened.” (1 Samuel 13: 19, 20) The Philistines (believed to be one of the “Sea Peoples” who were driven from Mycenae) had conquered Anatolia not long before this and archaeology indicates that they carried the Hittite secrets of iron-making with them into Palestine, where it remained their secret for many years. The Bible is not specific on the subject, but when David returns to Israel after spending time as a vassal lord in Philistia he begins to consistently win battles against the Philistine army. Did he bring with him the carefully guarded metallurgical secret of the Hittites? It is at around this time that iron tools and weapons begin to show up with regularity in the Israelite archaeological record.

In any case, the drawing of the sword from the stone also reflects two accounts from the Bible, both of which cooperate to make David the undisputed King of Israel. The first is the gathering of the sons of Jesse in 1 Samuel chapter 16. As with the lords assembled around the Sword in the Stone, one by one Samuel presents the men to God, and one by one they are found unworthy. Then the youngest son is summoned from the field; David, still a boy, is selected and anointed as king.

The second account is David’s confrontation with the giant Goliath. Just as with King Arthur, the confirmation of David’s destiny involves a giant, a unique sword, a stone, and a young, unknown contender for a disputed throne.

The swords of both kings deserve additional mention. As we have already seen, Arthur’s sword is the magical Excalibur, received from the quasi-religious figure the Lady of the Lake. David takes Goliath’s sword for his own. Nowhere is it suggested that the sword has magical powers, but imagine the size of a sword forged for a nine-and-a-half foot tall national champion! Not only would it been huge, but it would have been of the finest quality metal that the Philistines had available to them—perhaps even steel forged from meteor-ore. (Two centuries earlier, Egyptian Pharaoh Tutankhamen was buried with a very fine steel dagger lying on his chest. Archaeologists have concluded that the dagger was made of meteor-steel, likely forged by Hittite smiths). (Shawn, 1995) Only twice in the entire canon of the Hebrew Scriptures are any real details given about a specific weapon. One of them is David’s comment regarding Goliath’s sword, a statement that finds no parallel anywhere else in the Bible. When it is returned to him at the hands of the religious figure, High Priest Ahimelech, the future king says, “There is no other like it.” (1 Samuel 21:9) In both Arthur and David’s cases the possession of an extraordinary sword is one of the indications of a divinely-approved ruler. What would David have looked like as he charged into battle with an enormous (possibly two-handed for him) sword against enemies who typically carried blades less than twenty-four inches long? (Herzog, 1997)

The Vulgate Cycle

The next significant development in the Arthurian saga was a series of five volumes of prose written by Cistercian monks under the direction of the famous clergyman Bernard of Clairvaux sometime between 1220 and 1240. (Matthews, 1989)

This religiose retelling adds a number of important elements now considered vital parts of the story. In his old age (according to the Vulgate Cycle), Arthur decides that he desires to be remembered for something more than his military exploits. He seeks a mission of spiritual value, and thus is conceived the Quest for the Holy Grail. The Cistercian monks provide a brief history of the Grail, explaining that Joseph of Arimathea carried the sacred cup, used by Christ at the Last Super, to Britain. The Grail can be found only by a knight who is pure in heart, and the character of Galahad is invented for this purpose, a son of Lancelot’s adulterous affair with the lady Elaine of Carbonek. Galahad is the model of warrior-asceticism, an example for the Knights Templar that Bernard so fervently endorsed. (In fact in the Vulgate Cycle Galahad’s coat of arms is a white shield with a vermilion cross, the same symbol assigned to the Templars by Pope Euguene III, a disciple of Bernard’s). Galahad’s name is a Biblical one, a corruption of Gilead, meaning Witness Heap, suggesting Galahad’s inextricable connection to the “heap” of testimony provided in the Hebrew Scriptures to point toward the coming of the Christ. (Loomis, The Development of the Arthurian Romance, 2000) He it is who finds the Grail, proving himself more ‘pure in heart’ (as the Tennyson poem, Sir Galahad, expresses it) than Arthur and Lancelot.

During the Grail quest Galahad, Perceval, and Bors all board a boat upon which wait a “strange sword” and a crown. A maiden tells them that the boat had been built by King Solomon in anticipation of a descendent of his who would become the greatest knight in the world and achieve the Grail Quest. She also informs them that the crown was Solomon’s and the sword was King David’s own (taken from the giant Goliath).

Once again the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere is highlighted and to the sinful nature of Arthur and his knights is ascribed the downfall of Camelot. Mordred is introduced as Arthur’s son and nephew, the result of the king’s unwitting incest with his sister Morgaine, or Morgan le Fay.

When the relationship between Lancelot and Guinevere is uncovered, Lancelot escapes and Guinevere is sentenced to death. Lancelot returns to rescue her but in the process accidentally kills Gaheris and Gareth, the sons of Lot. Driven by the implacable vengeance of their brother Gawain (originally Gwalchmai, a Welsh solar deity), Arthur travels to France to attack Lancelot. While he is there, Arthur’s illegitimate son Mordred takes over the kingdom of Britain, claims Arthur is dead, and commands Guinevere to marry him. When Arthur learns of Mordred’s treachery, he returns from France and meets his son in the Battle of Badon Hill. Arthur kills Mordred, and Mordred gives Arthur a mortal wound. At the end of the tale, Arthur is borne away by Morgan le Fay, the Lady of the Lake, to Avalon, with the promise that he will one day return.

(It is interesting to note that Morgan le Fay who had, until this point in history, been portrayed as a healer or as the Celtic battle-goddess Morgana, is now transformed into Arthur’s evil, enchantress half-sister. Apparently this was a result of further religious influence on the story—the Cistercians believed that attributing the powers of healing or prophecy, even in literature, to a woman who was not a member of a religious order was blasphemy).

Once again, the Vulgate Cycle’s version of events parallels those of King David’s reign. In David’s later years, he desired to be remembered for something more than his military exploits. He sought a mission of spiritual value, and determined to build a Temple for his God, Jehovah, in the city of David--Jerusalem. (2 Samuel 7:1, 2) Like Arthur, he is found unworthy to do so (“because of the warfare with which they surrounded him” according to 1 Kings 5:3) and the task is given to one more pure in heart—his son, Solomon. (2 Samuel 7:12, 13)

John Matthews writes that “the grail represents not just a spiritual quest in place of the violent physical, but a connection between the mundane and the spiritual, as well as a means of healing the people and the land, the means to ultimate good. It is only a representation of a more potent reality: the sacrificial blood of Christ which it contains.” (Matthews, 1989)

In all of this it is a potent parallel to the Temple of Solomon, for which this entire description also holds true.

Lancelot’s killing of Gaheris and the ensuing feud echoes an episode early in David’s rule. In 2 Samuel chapter 2, Abner, Saul’s uncle and military commander is pursued by a young Asahel, one of the famous sons of Zeruiah. The veteran Abner begs Asahel to give off the chase because he did not desire to kill the lad. When Asahel refused, “Abner got to strike him in the abdomen with the butt end of the spear, so that the spear came out from his back; and he fell there and died where he was.” (2 Samuel 2:20-23) From that day forward, Asahel’s brothers, Joab and Abishai, driven by their desire for vengeance, murder and manipulate their way through the kingdom (see 2 Samuel 3:22-27, 11:14-25, 18:1-17, 20:8-33, 1 Kings 1:18, 19) until Joab is finally executed by Solomon after David’s death.

As the sons of Lot were key players in the civil war that divided Arthur’s kingdom, Joab was indirectly responsible for the success of David’s son Absalom’s insurrection against David, although in the end it is he who slaughters Absalom against David’s direct orders. (2 Samuel 18: 9-17) And just as Mordred tried to force Guinevere to marry him to give legitimacy to his rule, one of Absalom’s first acts on taking the city of Jerusalem is to “have relations with the concubines of his father” on the roof of the palace “under the eyes of all Israel.” (2 Samuel 16:20-22)

Mordred gave Arthur a wound that would not heal; Absalom’s rebellion and death cast a pall on David from which the king never fully recovers.

Le Morte d’Arthur

In around 1470 a former Member of Parliament was languishing in Newgate prison after a string of bizarre crimes: the ambush and attempted murder of the Duke of Buckingham, robbing Coombe Abbey and insulting the abbot, rape of one Henry Smyth’s wife, large scale cattle theft, and highway robbery. He had already escaped incarceration twice—once by swimming the moat of Coleshill prison and once by making an armed breakout from Colchester Castle.[1]

The accused was Sir Thomas Malory, King Arthur’s most famous biographer. During his years in Newgate, Malory assembled the work of previous chroniclers into the first “coherent history of Arthur from his curious birth to his dramatic death.” (Graves, 1962) Malory called it The hoole booke of kyng Arthur & of his noble knyghtes of the round table. William Caxton published the work for Malory—posthumously and anonymously (apparently for fear the author’s reputation would decrease sales). He called it Le Morte d’Arthur.

Malory did not add much that was new to the core of the legend (his work seems to be based almost entirely on the Vulgate Cycle), but his decisions as to what to include shaped Le Morte d’Arthur into the most Davidic version of the story at the time. His language and pacing is Biblical. (Matthews, 1989) As an example, note the description of Galahad’s arrival at court, “redolent with New Testament detail” (Matthews, 1989): “In the Meanwhile came in a good old man, and an ancient, clothed all in white, and there was no knight knew from whence he came. And with him he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red arms, without sword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side. And these words he said: ‘Peace be with you, fair lords.’” (Malory, 1962)

Of course, the stories are outspokenly “Christian,” but in name only: they are thick with fornication, adultery, pedophilia, brutality, incest, and vengeance. Robert Graves, in his introduction to the 1962 translation of the work by Keith Baines, observes that Mallory had turned Arthur into “a counter-Christ, with twelve knights of the Round Table to suggest Twelve Apostles, and with a Second Coming.” The intended audience of the work were a people for whom the “ascetic morality preached by Jesus” was completely foreign. Their behavior, much like that of the Knights of the Round Table, was largely shaped by their determination to protect their personal and national honor at all costs. It was difficult to reconcile this attitude with Jesus’ admonitions to humility and ‘turning the other cheek.’ The seigniorial class of the time identified more with their interpretation of the morality of the ancient Israelite warrior who “fought ruthlessly: thrusting women through the belly with his javelin, dashing the little ones against stones, and smiting noncombatants with the edge of his sword.” (Graves, 1962)

But in Malory’s version it is easy to identify the Davidic parallels. Here we find Merlin/Samuel (whose birth is the result of supernatural intervention) becoming a prophet at a young age and manifesting supernatural abilities, responsible for the enthronement of Vortigern/Saul and Arthur/David. Vortigern/Saul unwisely shows mercy to their foreign enemies and is condemned for it. Uther/David falls in lust with Igraine/Bathsheba and beds her while arranging the death of her husband the Duke of Tintagel/Uriah the Hittite. A child of this union, Arthur/Solomon, becomes the next king when his father, Uther/David, on his deathbed, throws his support behind him.

Here we see the leaders of Britain/the sons of Jesse gathered before Merlin/Samuel, one by one rejected until the youngest and humblest among them, Arthur/David, is chosen. Confirmation of the new king involves a unique sword, a battle with a giant, and a stone. Arthur/David takes up his exceptional weapon: Excalibur/the sword of Goliath.

We watch as Arthur/David assembles his knights/mighty men, and we wonder at the supernatural skill and strength they demonstrate as the litany of their achievements is set before us. We note the significance of the sons of Lot/Zeruiah, Gawain, Gaheris and Gareth/Joab, Abishai, and Asahel.

After a life of unparalleled success in battle against his enemies, Arthur/David determines to pursue a more spiritual goal, the Grail Quest/construction of the Temple. But Arthur/David is found unworthy to do so, and the privilege is enjoyed by one more pure in heart, Galahad/Solomon.

Central to Le Morte d’Arthur is the tragic love triangle of Arthur/David, Guinevere/Bathsheba, and Lancelot/Uriah (both foreigners). This transgression in combination with crimes committed by Lancelot/Abner against one of the sons of Lot/Zeruiah plunges the nation into civil war. After driving his father away, Arthur/David’s son, Mordred/Absalom propositions/beds Arthur/David’s wife/concubines. In the ensuing battle, Mordred/Absalom is killed and Arthur/David receives a wound from which he never fully recovers.

Conclusions

As has been clearly documented, the “final” version of the legend of King Arthur is an amalgam of the work of many biographers, historians, and spinners of legend. Its roots are sunk all the way down to pre-Roman times, to Celtic, Welsh, and Irish mythologies. Does not this cumulative origin argue strongly against the idea that the story is based on the Biblical King David?

The Bible is no more (and, arguably, no less) a source than is Y Goddodin, Historia Brittonum, The Mabinogion, Historia Regum Britanniae, Le Roman du Graal, the Vulgate Cycle, or Le Morte d’Arthur. All of the contributors to the medieval Arthurian literary tradition built fresh constructs on the weathered structures left by their predecessors. The real question is: from where did they get their new material? Not from history—that much is sure. It is easy to assume that they were simply the compilers of the work of previous chroniclers, as so many of them claim to be, but that does not put the question to rest. For if Geoffrey did not, in fact, invent the story of the seduction of Igraine, but received it from the author of some “very ancient book”, then whence did that author get the account? The story of Arthur is an amalgam, of course, but the amalgamators threw in additional material of their own as they worked. Certainly, some of the ideas came from their own imaginations, but consider two facts that make it extremely unlikely that all, or even most, of it did so.

First: who were these “compilers?” Geoffrey was a Bishop, Wace was a canon, Chrétien de Troyes was writing for a devout Cathari, Robert de Borron blatantly Christianized the work, Bernard of Clairvaux was an abbot promoting the ideas of the Knights Templar. As has already been noted, several of them admitted to religious aspirations for their writing. To what would they turn when seeking to flesh out the story of Britain’s greatest king? To the greatest king of the Bible, of course—a hero with the human frailties they needed to make him an accessible model for Christian knights.

Second: there are simply too many parallels between the Arthurian story as it has come down to us and the Biblical account of David’s life to be coincidental. It would be a different matter if the Bible (or some other ancient source) were filled with stories of prophet-advised, giant-slaying kings with extraordinary swords who gather knights of superhuman ability, are condemned for their involvement in an illicit love affair, fail to achieve their loftiest goal due to impurity in their hearts, and battle their own sons in a civil war that ends in the son’s death and the father’s ultimate destruction. But the Bible is not filled with such characters and events; nor is any other work of literature. This combination is unique to two tales: David, the greatest king of Israel, and Arthur, the greatest king of Britain.

To the medieval audience for whom these tales were originally written, Arthur represented a unique leader—one who was loved by his subjects, who had human weaknesses and faced human trials. Arthur was presented as a re-incarnation of the values that King David had always been known for. Although Arthur’s life ended in disgrace, the author expresses confidence that he, like Jesus, son of David, will return and rule again with all the traits that made him extraordinary. In Malory’s words: “In many parts of Britain it is believed that King Arthur did not die and that he will return to us and win fresh glory and the Holy Cross of our Lord Jesu Christ…And inscribed on his tomb, men say, is this legend: Hic iacet Arthurus, rex quondam rexque futures.”

For this reason, David is called by Jewish rabbis “the first and the last of the Jewish rulers.” (Shitah Hadashah) Among British historians and bards, Arthur is named “the once and future king.” (Malory, 1962)

Works Cited

Ford, D. N. (2007). King Arthur. Retrieved June 28, 2009, from Britannia History:

http://www.britannia.com/history/h12.html

Graves, R. (1962). Introduction to Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur. Garden City: International

Collector's Library.

Green, T. (2007). Concepts of Arthur. Chalford Stroud: Tempus Publishing.

Herzog, C. &. (1997). Battles of the Bible. London: Greenhill Books, Lionel Leventhal Limited.

King Arthur in Literature. (n.d.). Retrieved June 22, 2009, from Legend of King Arthur:

http://www.legendofkingarthur.co.uk/literature-king-arthur.htm

Loomis, R. S. (1991). The Grail: From Celtic Myth to Christian Symbol. Princeton: Princeton.

Loomis, R. S. (2000). The Development of Arthurian Romance. Mineloa. Dover Publications.

Malory, S. T. (1962). Le Morte d'Arthur. (K. Baines, Trans.) Garden City: International Collector's

Library.

Matthews, J. (1989). The Elements of the Arthurian Tradition. Rockport: Element, Inc.

Shawn, I. a. (1995). The Dictionary of Ancient Egypt. New York: Henry N. Adams, Inc.

Shitah Hadashah 2. . (Zohar I, 82b; III, 84a.).

[1] It should be acknowledged that some modern historians believe that the Sir Thomas Malory responsible for these crimes is, in fact, a different person than the writer of Le Morte d’Arthur. This is not, however, the predominant view.

The Gezer Calendar

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 23:32:00 +0000

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

In 1908, Irish archaeologist Robert Alexander Steward Macalister was excavating the ancient Canaanite city of Gezer, just west of Jerusalem. Among his many discoveries was a soft limestone tablet inscribed with a short poem. The ancient Hebrew script, likely from the 10th century B.C.E., was written quite crudely, leading most scholars to believe that the tablet was a schoolboy's writing or memory exercise. Alternate theories suggest that it is a breakdown of farming taxes or a agrarian folk song. The translated text reads, roughly:

Two months gathering

Two months planting

Two months late sowing

One month cutting flax,

One month reaping barley

One month reaping and measuring grain

Two months pruning

One month summer fruit.

The poem is signed "Abijah."

What makes the find extraordinary is the antiquity of the alphabet, script, and language--among the earliest extant Hebrew writing. It also provided scholars with some of the clearest information about the Hebrew agricultural calendar, information that has contributed to our understanding of ancient Israelite life in general.

Below is a picture of a recreation of the Gezer Calendar made by my brother, Axel Wilkinson.

Scrolls and Rolls

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 01:34:00 +0000

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

The leaved book, or codex, as a method of recording and accessing information, seems so obvious to us today. How could it not have been one of mankind's first inventions? And how is it possible that, for thousands of years, people were doing their writing on rocks, clay tablets, ivory or metal tablets, pottery shards, bits of animal skin, and--most significantly--scrolls?

Scrolls are awkward. Some of the original scrolls were well over 100 feet long; the Egyptian Harris Papyrus from the time of Ramses II was 133 feet. Finding the passage you wanted from the middle of the scroll must have taken a long time indeed. When my brother and I made the scroll pictured below, I quickly learned how easy it is to drop one end--and how difficult it is to get it rolled back up afterward.

In the Bible period, scrolls were made on pieces of leather, parchment, linen or papyrus glued together into a long, narrow sheet, rolled around a stick or dowel. The best scrolls were made of vellum, a material made from the skin of young calves. If the scroll was particularly long, having a dowel at either end allowed the reader to be rolling up one end while unrolling the other end.

The individual sheets or pieces that were glued together were typically 9 to 11 inches long and 6 to 9 inches wide. They were pasted together or sewn with linen thread. The rough edges were smoothed with pumice stone and the scroll was dipped in cedar oil to ward of insects.

Each of these sheets had between one and four columns of text; the Dead Sea Scrolls had roughly 30 lines per column.

This meant that a scroll that could hold the Gospels would have been over 100 feet long. When early Christians made the preaching and teaching of Christ's message their primary purpose, they needed a more convenient way to carry and share that message. Professor E. J. Goodspeed wrote: "Men in the early church...in their zeal to spread the Christian message...seized upon all the techniques of publication...In doing this they began the use on any large scale of the leaf-book, now in universal use."

Hospitality In Ancient Israel

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 18:39:00 +0000

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

In the 18^th chapter of Genesis, Abraham is encamped at the Big Trees of Mamre, near the city of Hebron. Hebron is famous for its vineyards, pomegranates, figs, apricots, olives, apples, and nuts; the wells and springs that surround the city keep the area remarkably green for how close it is to the desert region known as the Negeb.

It is during the hottest part of the day that Abraham sees two men approaching his camp. In a striking example of ancient hospitality, the 99 year old man runs across the sandy soil, bows down before the two men, and offers them a cup of water. This humble offer is, in reality, a symbolic gesture that is filled with meaning. The proffered cup means that Abraham is vowing to take the visitors to his table, provide for their needs, and give them protection and comfort.

The next verses in the chapter illustrate how Israelites from Abraham’s time, and for centuries thereafter, fulfilled this vow. The elderly patriarch has a young bull slaughtered, butchered, and roasted; he has his wife make 20-some quarts of flour into fresh bread. This is served to the travelers along with milk and butter while Abraham stands over them, the perfect host.

The event foreshadows attitudes about hospitality that became an integral part of ancient Israelite culture. From the time that the nation settled in the Promised Land, hospitality was guaranteed to any traveler. When one reached a city, all he needed to do was wait near the gate; within a few minutes, a resident would approach. After bowing and kissing once on each cheek, the resident would ask the visitor to come and stay with him in his home. The exchange might go something like this:

“May you have peace! Please, my lord, do my humble household the honor of being our guest for the night.”

“May peace be upon you! Your kindness overwhelms me, but I am not worthy to stay with you. Let me, instead, find a place here, at the gate.”

“No, my lord! I would die of shame! It is impossible for me to allow you to sleep unattended, or to go your way without some food and rest! Please, I beg you—come back to my home and have a drink of water.”

“As you say—I shall go with you for a drink of water. But then I must be on my way.”

The host would lead his guest back to his home. There, the host’s family would care for any animals the guest had, and the guest would be seated in the courtyard of the family home. Family members or servants would come forward with the promised cup of water. While the guest was drinking it, the host family would remove his sandals, wash his feet, and rub them with olive oil. They would begin to prepare a meal for him (while he protested) and, after it was ready, they would guide him to the family table.

In the early years of Israel’s history, this “table” was a circle of leather with holes punched around its edges. A rope was threaded through these holes, which allowed the “table” to be gathered like a pouch and hung from the ceiling when not in use. For the guest it would be laid on the floor and the family would sit, cross-legged or laying on one side, around it. The host’s wife would place the main course in its center: a pot of beans, lentils, grain, or something similar. (Meat would not be served except on special occasions). Bread was then distributed around the table. The host would tear a piece from his bread (called a “sop”), dip it into the communal pot, and offer it to the guest. That was the signal for the meal to begin.

After eating, the group might recite poetry, listen to or play music, dance, tell stories, or share gossip. This would continue until late into the night—for anyone to leave the table early was considered an insult.

Before the visitor left the home the next day, the host might once again kiss him on each cheek and say, “Now there is salt between us.” The phrase reminded the guest of the inviolable bond that was created by two people who shared a meal. The Bible calls it “a covenant of salt,” and the Hebrew word for “covenant” refers to a sacred vow. David wrote, in the famous 23^rd Psalm, that God had ‘prepared for him a table in the presence of his enemies.’ This referred to the fact that even if the man across the table from you was your sworn enemy, while you sat at the table together you treated him as a friend. To break the sanctity of the table was the gravest of sins.

The Madness of King Saul: Mental Illness in Ancient Times

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 20:06:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 15:58:00 +0000

“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 Gems of the Bible

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 29 Oct 2010 16:48:00 +0000

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

Beautifully colored and polished gemstones caught the eye and inspired the imagination of people of ancient times as effectively as they do our own. While writing scenes for The Eternal Throne Chronicles, I am constantly trying to paint mental pictures of the people and places of Iron Age Israel. While my research leads me to pictures that are more primitively agrarian and considerably less romanticized than most illustrations of the period, I do enjoy adding color to the scenes by imagining the use of gems as jewelry, ornamentation, and even building materials.

One of the most famous uses of gemstones was the breastpiece worn by the High Priest of Israel. Exodus 28 gives the instructions for its manufacture. It’s gold surface had twelve stones inset on it, representing the twelve tribes of Israel: ruby, topaz, emerald, turquoise, sapphire, jasper, leshem, agate, amethyst, chrysolite, onyx, and jade.

The ancient Israelites probably did not facet stones—they simply did not have the technology to do so. Instead they polished them using materials like emery powder or, in the case of crystals, left them in a relatively natural state. Which stones they used is a question not easily answered: there is considerable debate as to the translation of some of the Hebrew terms, and the meaning of some has been entirely lost to the ages.

In any case, here are a few of the common gems of Palestine and a comment or two about each.

Shamir (Ezekiel 3:9)

Some scholars translate this word as diamond. It seems unlikely that the ancient Israelites could fashion diamonds, although Jeremiah 17:1 talks about using Shamir to cut other stones. It was obviously a very hard material, and so many translators believe it refers to corundum, emery, or some other adamant stone.

Cadcod (Isaiah 54:12)

This stone’s identification is also a matter of debate. The Hebrew word means “reddish” or “ruddy,” and so it is most commonly translated “ruby.” Others believe that it refers to some form of agate.

Shevo (Exodus 28:19)

Most scholars agree that this is the common form of chalcedony that we know today as agate. It is a stone layered in shades of black, brown, blue, and white, and can be polished to a beautiful sheen. This stone was one of those used in the High Priest’s breastplate.

Sha’yish (1 Chronicles 29:2)

This is the famous alabaster of ancient times. Modern alabaster is usually hydrated calcium sulfate, a very soft material that is easily engraved and broken. The alabaster of the early Iron Age, though, was a type of calcium carbonate that was white with streaks of various colors. It was nearly as hard as marble. The modern name comes from the fact that the stone was originally mined near Alabastron, Egypt. The material became famous for its use in perfume jars. Not only was the alabaster considered appropriately beautiful for the expensive contents, but the porous stone allowed the scent to escape very slowly over many years.

Achlamah (Exodus 28:19)

This is almost certainly amethyst, a rare, purple variety of the six-sided quartz crystal. The Hebrew name comes from the root halam, which means “to dream.” Ancient peoples believed that amethyst had the ability to give its wearer significant dreams.

Tarshish (Daniel 10:6)

The area known in the Bible as Tarshish (almost certainly modern Spain) was the source of a translucent yellow or green stone that is formed from silicates of magnesium and iron; we know it today as topaz. Some translators, though, believe that the term could also apply to the various forms of beryl: emerald, aquamarine, or morganite.

Shoham (Genesis 2:12)

Onyx stone has been used from the earliest of times in Mesopotamia. The most ancient of cultures took this hard type of agate and polished it for use in inlays, tile work, jewelry, and more. The word “onyx” is Greek in origin—it means “finernail.” Apparently the Greeks thought that the two materials had a similar luminescence.

Ramoth (Ezekiel 27:16)

The famed merchants of Tyre traveled along the Mediterranean coast in their ships, collecting the wealth of one culture and selling it to others. Various small communities along their route sold them pieces of the beautiful, red or orange coral their divers had collected from the sea. The Tyrians then sold them to the wealthy citizens of the Levant and Egypt. The material was polished for use in jewelry, or inlaid in the walls and floors of buildings.

Bareqeth (Ezekiel 28:13)

This word seems to refer to emeralds. Some scholars doubt that the Israelites could have worked emeralds, but many excavations in Egypt have uncovered decorate materials and jewelry set with emeralds. Emerald mining operations have also been discovered in upper Egypt, Cyprus, and the mountains of Ethiopia.

O’dhem; kadhkodh (Ezekiel 28:12, 13)

Both of these words mean “ruby”; the terms may refer to different colors of stones. Ruby is a type of corundum formed when traces of chromium and iron oxide form in aluminum oxide, turning it red. Only slightly less hard than diamonds, this stone was among the most expensive in Bible times.

The Legendary Wealth of Solomon--Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 17:00:00 +0000

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

My earlier post described the extent of King Solomon’s wealth in modern terms, and raised the question of whether or not the Bible’s descriptions of such wealth were believable. Golden dishes, golden furniture, golden shields and a temple plated with gold—are these fanciful exaggerations of later chroniclers intent on inflating Solomon’s reputation?

Archaeology says they are not. Let’s address each of those specific examples in turn.

“All King Solomon’s goblets were gold…” (1 Kings 10:21)

Obviously many kings throughout the centuries have used golden tableware—it is used today in some royal houses. The same was true in ancient times. When Sir Leonard Wooley excavated the Royal Cemetary in Ur from the 3^rd millennium B.C., he found many golden cups and dishes there. Railway workers building near Bubastis once discovered a cache of Egyptian treasure from c.1279-1213 B.C., and included was a cup of solid gold. At the famous excavations at Ugarit a number of beautifully embossed golden plates were found, and gold jugs and dishes from Persian sites can be seen in museums all around the world.

Furniture of Gold

The Pharaohs of Egypt plated their furniture with gold. Buried with Tutankhamen in 1331 were two carved wooden chairs plated with gold. A thousand years earlier Queen Hetepheres, the mother of Cheops (the builder of the Great Pyramid) was buried with a bed, a chair, and a canopy all plated with gold. The El-Amarna letters from the 14^th century B.C. list gifts exchanged between the royalty of Egypt and their relatives in Canaan: golden bowls, toiletries and furniture and chariots plated with gold.

Solomon’s throne is described as being plated in ivory, then in gold. Gold-plated ivory artifacts have been uncovered in the Assyrian palaces at Nimrud.

Shields of Gold

The gold shields and bucklers that hung in Solomon’s palace were clearly ceremonial armaments meant as a sign of wealth. Their existence is supported by other similarly symbolic gold armaments from nearby empires. Sir Wooley found a gold helmet (engraved to look like a wig) in Ur’s Royal Cemetery, along with gold daggers and battle axes. A gold axe head was also uncovered at Byblos from c. 1800 B.C. King Sargon II of Assyria wrote a letter detailing the booty taken in his campaign of 714 B.C: the list included six shields of gold weighing a total of 700 pounds.

Temples of Gold

It is one thing to have objects of gold—after all, everyone is familiar with the gold splendors of King Tut’s tombs and it is possible to purchase gold plated objects today in every shape and size. But a temple plated with gold?

Sometime between 680 and 669 B.C. King Esarhaddon of Assyria plated the doors and walls of the shrine of Ashur with gold “as if with plaster” (Rykle Borger, Die Inschriften Asarhaddons (Graz, Austria: E. W. Weidner, 1956), p. 87.) Nabonidus of Babylon (555-539 BC) wrote of renovating the temple of Sin at Harran, saying that he clad the walls with gold. Amenophis III (c. 1386-1349 BC) built a temple to Amun at Thebes entirely plated with gold, silver, and electrum. The shrine of Ramesses III (1185-1154 BC) at Medinet Habu was paved with silver, and the walls and pillars were all gold-plated. In a remarkable display of extravagance, Ramesses built a cedar barge 200 ft long overlaid with gold to the waterline.

We cannot discount the realism of the Bible’s description of Solomon’s wealth when we have so many similar contemporary examples. Truly, Solomon was one of the wealthiest rulers of all time—certainly the wealthiest of any king in Asia in the early Iron Age. In addition to supporting the accuracy of Biblical history, this record gives us a picture of the incredible opulence of Israel at its greatest heights.

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

The Legendary Wealth of Solomon-- Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 23 Oct 2010 01:33:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 21 Oct 2010 22:38:00 +0000

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.

'A Land of Olive Oil'

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 17:13:00 +0000

www.timothywilkinson.net

When I am writing scenes of life in ancient Israel, I am always trying to transport myself back in time, to be able to picture the details of the scene as though I was there. Historical research and even reenactment have become a vital part of my work on The Eternal Throne Chronicles. When imagining the textures, tastes, sights and smells of life in ancient Palestine, one cannot escape olive oil.

Golden olive oil flowed like blood through the life and economy of ancient Israel. It was an inseparable part of everyday activities. In Psalm 128 the psalmist says of blessed families: "Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your sons will be like olive shoots around your table." The Promised Land was sometimes called 'a land of olive oil' (Deuteronomy 8:8). A Hebrew idiom complimented a good man by calling him "pure olive oil."

An olive tree planted more than fifteen centuries ago

Few people would consider the olive tree beautiful: Its bark is tortuously gnarled; its leaves spiky and dull green. Like most trees, it is at its most beautiful in the spring when white blossoms cover it and then carpet the ground beneath like falling snow (Job 15:33).

Domesticated olive trees were often grown by cutting down a wild tree and grafting a cultivated shoot onto the stump. Fifteen years later the tree would begin to produce harvestable fruit. This may seem like a long time from our fast-paced perspective, but olive trees were frequently planted next to the ancestral family home. That property would stay in the family for hundreds of years--and the tree would continue to produce all of that time. There are ancient olive trees outside Jerusalem that were being harvested before the days of Christ.

The fruit is ready by late September or early October. Women and children would spread cloth around the trunk and use poles to beat the branches, knocking the olives free. The Torah required that any olives that refused to fall be left on the tree; orphans, widows, and other landless poor could come after and glean them for themselves. This harvesting technique was not gentle--new shoots were likely destroyed by the beating. This resulted in a good crop often being followed the next year by a poor crop.

Olives were eaten raw (olives and barley bread may have been a standard breakfast) or preserved by immersion in salt water. The far majority, though, were used for oil. A number of early Iron Age olive presses have been uncovered in excavations--some small enough to put in one's lap, some so large they were undoubtedly turned by pairs of mules or oxen. Larger presses used a rolling stone wheel to crush the olives. Smaller presses operated much like cider presses today, utilizing a lever and a lid to squeeze a basket of olives so that the oil ran out between the gaps in the basket weave.

Olive oil was used for cooking, as a condiment, as fuel for lamps, as a medicine, to make soap, lotion, hair products and for ceremonial purposes. Religious objects, prophets, priests, and kings were anointed with oil. Warriors oiled the leather surfaces of their shields to keep the leather supple and make it slicker so that an enemy's blows would slide easily off. Sandals, belts, and other leather objects would be similarly treated.

In Iron Age Palestine the smell of olive oil must have been everywhere. In the hot, dry climate a person might rub their face, arms, and legs with olive oil twice a day or more. Every household object would pick up this oil from the skin of those who handled it. Wooden handles of tools and implements absorbed it; it rubbed off on clothing and bedding. The scarcity of water meant that people did not bathe as frequently as they do today; an alternative was to rub the hair with oil to keep it healthy and presentable looking.

Olive oil thus became a symbol of wealth, health, and times of plenty. To the people of ancient Israel these were all inseparably connected to God's blessing. It is not surprising, then, that in the Scriptures olive oil is frequently used as a religious symbol and continued to be so right into the early days of Christianity.

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 Highways of the King

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 15:46:00 +0000

The Highways of the King

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

Ancient Hebrew has two primary words for transportation routes: messilah, meaning “highway,” and derekh meaning “road.” From earliest times trade routes linked cities and kingdoms throughout the Middle East. The most important and well-traveled routes were the Via Maris (Way of the Sea) that followed the coast almost from Egypt all the way to Lebanon, and the King’s Road, running up central Palestine, paralleling the Jordan. Maintaining these roads was important for religious, as well as economic, reasons. Since all Israelites worshipped at a central location, travel was constant and required by the Torah. The maintenance of the roads to the Cities of Refuge was even more crucial.

It is very difficult to get a clear picture of where roads and highways were once located, but a great deal of effort has been put into doing so. The Bible provides us with very little information regarding either their locations or description, but does contain a few allusions to their construction and maintenance. Isaiah talks about hills being leveled; Josephus wrote of Solomon paving the roads to Jerusalem with black stone. Archival texts, itineraries and military annals collected from the Biblical period throughout the Middle and Near East allow us to make a reasonably accurate estimate of how far one could travel in a day: about 17 to 23 miles, whether by land or by sea.

To the modern reader, references to “highways” conjures up a very different picture than the Iron Age reality. Late in the 13^th century B.C.E. (during the time of the Judges), an Egyptian official was sent on a trip through Palestine. Fortunately for us, he kept a detailed record of his journey—and he spared no details when describing the condition of the roads:

“…the sky is darkened by day [because the road] is overgrown with cypresses and oaks and cedars which reach the heavens. Lions are more numerous than leopards or bears [and it is] surrounded by Bedouin on [every] side of it…Behold, ambushers wait in a ravine 2000 cubits deep, filled with boulders and pebbles…the narrow valley is dangerous with Bedouin hidden under the bushes. Some of them are four or five cubits from their noses to the heel, and fierce of face. Their hearts are not mild, and they do not listen to wheedling. You are alone; there is no messenger with you, no army host behind you. You find no scout, that he might make you a way of crossing. You come to a decision to go forward, although you do not know the road. Shuddering seizes you, [the hair of] your head stands up, and your soul lies in your hand. Your path is filled with boulders and pebbles, without a toe hold for passing by, overgrown with reeds, thorns, brambles and ‘wolf’s-paws’. The ravine is on one side of you, and the mountain rises on the other. You go on jolting, with your chariot on its side, afraid to press your horse too hard.”

When Pharoah Thutmosis III traveled the “highway” sometime between 1490 and 1436 B.C.E. (the time of the Israelite conquest of Canaan or shortly thereafter), he reported that parts of it were so narrow that his horses had to walk single file—a singularly dangerous formation for an army. The passage of three and a half centuries didn’t see much improvement: in around 1100 B.C.E. (about the time of the birth of David), Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser I wrote that he had to send engineers ahead of his army with copper pickaxes to make the road passable for his chariots. There were portions of the road that proved too rough—charioteers and cavalry were forced to dismount and pick their way through on foot.

When we imagine the travels of people in the time of David, then, we should include in that mental picture a sense of just how difficult travel was. Wealthier people may have ridden on donkeys or used them to carry their burdens. Many sojourners likely took a siesta to avoid traveling in the oppressive heat of the Mediterranean day; night travel also served as an additional way to avoid detection by highwaymen. They crossed the miles on narrow, winding paths, choked with mud after winter rains, heavily rutted throughout the summer. They tried to avoid the deep canyons cut by rivers that raged during rainstorms, as well as the disease-infested swamps, barren deserts and broad badlands of sharp, hardened volcanic stone. Mountain roads took them up steep slops broken by twisting gorges; the ranges could be crossed only at well-traveled passes. They sought safety in numbers, traveling whenever possible in caravans.

While writing The Eternal Throne Chronicles, one of the challenges is that I continually discover new details about the biblical world as the project continues. I gratefully incorporate them into future novels but—alas—there is nothing I can do about those already published. The state of roads in Israel is one of those details. I look forward, though, to traveling those roads with fresh eyes in the near future as I write the first chapters of Hero of Israel.

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

Sacrifices for an Unsolved Murder: Community Responsibility in Ancient Israel

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 21:32:00 +0000

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

A fascinating example of the comprehensiveness of the Torah is the law recorded at Deuteronomy chapter 21, verses 1-9. This law outlines the procedure for dealing with an unsolved murder, and helps modern readers to understand the great value that the ancient Israelites put on life—in spite of the brutal, bloody times in which they lived.

According to the Law of Moses, anytime a murder victim’s body was found within the borders of the Promised Land, the village elders and judges would do what they could to solve the crime. If they were unable to find the murderer, though, the crime still required expiation. In an example of the concept of community responsibility that is (as far as I know) unique among the cultures of the early Bronze Age, a procedure had to be followed in order to absolve the nearest community of bloodguilt, and to remind everyone that the crime of murder could not be committed without serious, public consequences. These consequences could serve to motivate any witnesses to the crime into coming forward with what they knew.

The procedure was this: the older men of the communities around the body were to measure the distance from the corpse to their cities and determine which city was closest. The elders of that city then acquired a young cow. Deuteronomy specifies that the cow must never have pulled a yoke. There is another Hebrew phrase used to describe the animal, but it is unclear—it either means “a cow that has not been used for work” or “a cow that has not bred.”

This animal was led to a torrent valley in which there was running water, but the soil of which did not permit the growing of crops. (Interestingly, the Torah specifies that it must be a valley in which there was “customarily no tilling or sowing of seed;” in some areas of Israel there were few areas in which a crop had not been planted at some time, or that were not growing grain as a result of seeds that had spread naturally).

There, over the running water, the Levites of the city were to break the animal’s neck. The Mishnah explains that this was done by striking the animal behind the ears with a heavy, broad-bladed axe. Apparently this unusual method of execution related to the unsolved nature of the crime. Sacrifices in Israel (almost) always involved the shedding of blood—it was the blood that was considered sacred and representative of the animal’s life. In this case, though, the animal was being executed, not as a sacrifice, but in place of the murderer. Had its blood been ritually shed, it might have seemed to be an atonement for the criminal’s crime, but it was not mean to absolve him of guilt. In fact, if the murderer was identified at some later time, he would be executed in line with what the Torah required. The killing of the bull allowed the city to put off the burden of their community guilt, as the next instructions make clear.

After the animal was killed, the priests were to approach and observe as the elders of the city washed their hands over the body. There, in the hearing of the people they recited: “Our hands did not shed this blood, neither did our eyes see it shed. Do not set it to the account of your people Israel, whom you redeemed, O Jehovah, and do not put the guilt of innocent blood in the midst of your people Israel.”

What was done with the cow afterward is not specified, although it seems likely that the body was disposed of ritually rather than butchered and eaten. This ritual must have helped to provide a measure of closure for the families of the murder victim, and for the rest of the community.

To learn more about everyday life in Bible times, check out my series The Eternal Throne Chronicles, available from www.timothywilkinson.net.

A Pastoral Paradise

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 16:36:00 +0000

By Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

Having never traveled to Palestine myself, I have often enjoyed reading descriptions of the land by those who have traveled extensively there. I have compiled a few of my favorites for this blog post. Enjoy!

The Historical Geography of the Holy Land” by George Adam Smith (1966, Harper & Row):

“There is the excellency of Carmel itself: wheat-fields from Esdraelon to the first bare rocks, then thick bush and scrub, young ilex, wild olives and pines, with undergrowth of purple thistles, mallows with blossoms like pelargoniums, stocks of hollyhock, golden broom, honeysuckle and convolvulus; then, between the shoulders of the mountain, olive-groves, their dull green mass banked by the lighter forest trees, and on the flanks broad lawns, where in the shadow of oaks you look far out to sea” (p.80).

“Even in the barest provinces you get many a little picture that lives with you—a chocolate-coloured bank with red poppies against the green of the prickly-pear hedge above it, and a yellow lizard darting across; a river-bed of pink oleanders flush with the plain; a gorge in Judea, where you look up between limestone walls picked out with tufts of grass and black-and-tan goats cropping at them, the blue sky over all, on the edge of the only shadow, a well, a trough, and a solitary herdsman” (p.81).

“In the days of the pride of the land, what a plunge through nature it must have been, when one came down from oaks, through olives sycamores and walnuts, to palms with roots washed by the Lake [of Gennesaret]…Even now one sees proof of that luxuriance in the rich patches of garden upon Gennesaret, in the wealth of flowers on the surrounding slopes, and in the maidenhair fern that springs up wherever a stream gives water and a ruin throws shade” (p.289).

“[In Edom] elow 3000 feet flourish laurels, oleanders and tamarisks…Nubk or thorn and retem or broom abound and, in wadies running into the Arabah and Wadi Hesa, thick bush and reeds. Honeysuckle, caper, and other trailers are also found, and a flowering aloe in Wady Musa…On the limestone the olive, fig, and vine flourish…with the less frequent pomegranate, carob, and mulberry” (p.363).

“[In Damascus] you pass between orchards of figs and apricots. For hedges there are the briar rose, and for a canopy the walnut. Pomegranate blossoms glow through the shade; vine-boughs trail across the briar; a little waterfall breaks on the edge of the road. To the left the river, thirty feet of dark green water with white curls, shoots down a steep, smooth bed…For two miles more you ride between trees, through a village, over a bridge, between high banks of gardens, road and river together, flecked with light” (p.429-30).

Beverley Nichols, excerpted on his website www.beverleynichols.com:

“You do not have to be a specially religious man to feel cleansed by Palestine; it is a country where sky and earth seem to meet; the heavens brood so closely over the hills that you feel you could stretch up your hands and just manage to touch the golden gates.

And I wanted the flowers. Unless you have roamed through Palestine in the spring you have never seen wild flowers; like rivers of blood the scarlet anemones tumble down from the highlands that lead to the Jordan; near Nazareth there are fields so thick with crocuses that you would say the hills were draped with tapestries of blue; and only a few miles from Jerusalem there are quiet places where the little violet sword-lily—gladiolus atroviolaceus—grows so freely that you can pick an armful of it in a couple of minutes.

And always, as you walk, you remember that on these same flowers the shadow of Jesus might have fallen, the poppy that you pluck for your buttonhole may be a direct descendant of some flower that His hands had touched as He wandered through the cornfields. Even the anemones, that riot so profusely throughout the land, may be the ‘lilies of the field’ which He made to shine so brightly in the loveliest of the parables. So, at least, maintain the majority of the scholars, and they quote the Song of Solomon to prove their contention—“My love is like a lily among the thorns.” For the tallest of the anemones, which are indeed of the lily family, are always to be found among the thorn bushes, struggling towards the light.”

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

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 22:30:00 +0000

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.

Photos of Display on Daily Life in Ancient Israel

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 14:46:00 +0000

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

By Timothy S. Wilkinson
www.timothywilkinson.net

On the 31 July I hosted a party for the release of my new book, Judge of Israel. For the party I set up a miniature museum-type display dealing with everyday life in Ancient Israel. For all of you who weren't able to come, I thought I would share some of the highlights of that display. I do plan to re-do the presentation later this year in a couple of more public venues.
I hope you enjoy it!

Stephanie White loaned me this ancient Bible to display 1 Samuel 7, on which "Judge of Israel" is based

This is a replica of a limestone plaque discovered by R. A. S. Macalister in 1908 in the excavations of the city of Gezer. It is believed to be a schoolboy’s writing exercise (not unlike our “Thirty days hath September”)—the penmanship is of poor quality. The calendar dates to the second half of the 10^th century B.C.E., and summarizes the yearly activities of the ancient Israelite farmer:

His two months are olive harvest

His two months are planting grain

His two months are late planting

His month is hoeing up of flax

His month is harvest of barley

His month is harvest and feasting

His two months are vine-tending

His month is summer fruit

This single tiny artifact answered a number of questions about the ancient agricultural year, and provided historians with a glimpse into the worlds of a farmer and a schoolboy in the days of King David.

The Lachish Letters are a group of letters written in carbon ink in Archaic Hebrew on clay ostraca. (Ostraca are pieces of broken pottery used as writing surfaces in ancient times—papyrus, vellum, and other alternatives were simply too expensive for everyday correspondence). The individual ostracon probably come from the same broken clay pot. They were written to Joash, likely the military commander at Lachish, from Hoshaiah, a military officer stationed nearby.

The letters were probably written shortly before Lachish fell to the Babylonian army in 588-586 B.C.E. during the last years of Jeremiah’s life and during the reign of Zedekiah, king of Judah.

They were discovered by J.L. Starkey in January and February of 1935 and are currently the property of the British Museum in London.

From ancient times, the sling has been a weapon of shepherds and warriors. One end is tied to the hand or looped around a finger (as in this example), and the other end was held in the hand to be freed when the sling was swung. This sling is an accurate replica of one found in the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen (d. 1343 B.C.E.). The cord is made of braided flaxe and the pouch is of leather. The stones displayed were the size commonly used in battle.

A sling this size can hurl a stone at nearly 200 miles per hour, capable not only of killing an armored man but of completely removing a limb. Shepherds who spent all day, every day with their sheep in the fields used slings to pick crows and other birds from off of the backs of their flock (crows will eat the eyes out of a living sheep if given the chance). They became incredibly skilled with the weapon. At Judges 20:16, Samuel describes a team of 700 ambidextrous Benaminites who were “slingers of stones to a hairbreadth and would not miss.”

By far the most common type of sword from Egypt to Lebanon, and from the early Bronze Age to mid-way through the Iron Age was the khopesh, or sickle-sword. This is an exact duplicate of a blade found in the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen, but countless thousands of the same design were made throughout the centuries. It is vertically-cast bronze, in every way identical to the swords that most Israelites would have carried in the 10^th century B.C.E. The sword is small to our eyes for several reasons: people at the time were smaller (probably 69 inches was the average height for a grown man), bronze was expensive, and the leverage provided by a longer blade made the sword more likely to break in battle.

Seeing this sword gives new meaning to the famous words in Isaiah 2:4 “And they will have to beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning shears.” The khopesh began as a sickle. Kings could not afford to provide weapons for all of their people who only became soldiers in times of war. Each man would simply bring his farm implement into battle, adjusting its shape slightly and perhaps sharpening the outer edge. When peace was restored, swords would be ‘beaten into’ farm tools once again.

Archaeologists differentiate between daggers and swords by their length. Somewhat arbitrarily, any blade 16 inches or shorter was a dagger; anything longer was a sword. That makes this piece, at a little over 17 inches, a sword. It is vertically cast solid bronze with silver inlay. The so-called “Type F” was a simple, straight-bladed, double-edged sword suitable for close combat. This design was used primarily by warlike cultures, since the amount of bronze required made it unusually expensive to produce, and the design was not easily adapted to other purposes.

The sword type classified “Naue II” is a basic design found across Europe and the Middle East throughout the Bronze Age. This piece is vertically hollow-cast bronze with silver filigree and represented the pinnacle of technology for the people of the day. The shape of the blade and hilt are fairly typical of a type of sword the Mycenaean Greeks, like the Philistines, might have carried.

Axes, single and double-headed, have been used as weapons since the earliest days of history. They were popular weapons in Palestine in the 10^th century B.C.E. among the Canaanite peoples. They owed this popularity in part to the fact that they were common and could be carried into battle by common men who could not afford to own a sword. They were also effective against even heavy armor and defensive weapons. This example is medieval in style, but the designs of axes changed so little through the centuries that it is quite similar to those made two millennia earlier.

The dagger on the right is a replica of the meteorite steel dagger that was found on the body of King Tutankhamen. It was forged for me by my younger brother, Leif.

This lamp design (called a "pinched" lamp) is found all over Palestine. The receptacle is filled with olive oil and a twisted flaxen cord is laid in it as a wick. It burns with a remarkably bright and clean flame.

The bow (Hebrew qesheth) is one of the most ancient of weapons and was used by every Bronze and Iron Age culture of the Middle East. 2 Samuel 22:35 refers to a “bow of copper,” probably referring to the practice of reinforcing the wooden limbs of the bow with thin sheets of copper, bone, horn, or sinew. Arrows (Hebrew chistsim) were made of reed shafts or light wood. Arrowheads were made of flint, bone, or metal. Metal arrowheads did not become common until late into the Bronze Age because of the considerable expense of making enough of them to equip an army, knowing that, unlike spear and javelin heads, most would not be recovered after the battle.

This bow is oak (common in Palestine in David’s day) and the arrow shafts are cedar. The arrow head is copper.

Goliath was a hero of the Philistine army during David’s boyhood. The Bible account says that he was “six cubits and a span” (9 ft 5.75 in) tall. Two hundred years earlier, the Hittites had forged a dagger from a meteorite that had ended up in the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen. It is not unreasonable that the Philistines, having learned iron-working from the Hittites, would have used the same precious material to forge the sword of their champion.

This blade is a standard Mycenaean Greek, one-handed design scaled up to be suitable for Goliath. Interestingly, David took this sword as his own after defeating Goliath, and wielded it for the rest of his life.

Iron Javelin

Iron Spear

Music and Musicians in the Bible

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 00:06:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 14:36:00 +0000

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.

How Did a Month Go By?!?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 18:20:00 +0000

I can't believe it has been so long since I have blogged! With the release of "Judge of Israel" and the ongoing marketing that goes with that, preparing the 2nd edition for print, trying to keep up with a heavy freelance writing schedule, and getting reading for school to start, I've been swamped.

I just wanted those of you who follow my blog to know that I will begin publishing articles again soon. You may have noticed that on my website, www.timothywilkinson.net, I have added a new toolbar and will be making a few other changes shortly.

Also, "Judge of Israel" will be available soon from Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and other online distributors. I will also begin doing book signings and presentations on "The Origin of King Arthur" and on "Daily Life in Bible Times" at various locations around northwestern Washington.

Initial responses to "Judge" have been good--some people like it better than "Prophet;" so far the majority like "Prophet" better. One of the strange things about authoring (at least for me) is that while "books are never finished--just abandoned" I do tend to be happy with the published versions of my work. I write books that I would want to read. And, once enough time has passed, I can enjoy picking them up and reading portions of my own work.

I guess in the end that is my real goal--to write a book that I would enjoy reading. I love the story I am telling, though that story is not, at its heart, my own. It is a story that I feel begs to be retold--not just be me, but over and over again.

"Judge of Israel" Book release party

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 19:06:00 +0000

Thanks to everyone who came to my book release party--and for all of you who wanted to come but couldn't make it. It was a huge success. I have now sold out the "limited edition" printing of Judge of Israel and am getting ready to order the second printing in the next couple of days. Thanks everyone who has purchased or requested a copy of the book. I've been filling orders furiously--shipped a copy of both books to Israel on Wednesday! If you don't want a signed copy, or you live close enough that you can bring it to me to sign, you can order a copy of the book here:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/judge-of-israel/11773632

Here are some pictures from my recent release party for "Judge of Israel." I'm not sure if we remembered to take photos of the food--I hope so. If so, I'll post them later. The food was incredible--thanks to Chelsey, Hassana, Shalako, and Reina. And thank you, Stephanie, for letting us take over your home for the day.

http://www.facebook.com/#!/album.php?aid=66016&id=1019111394

Gazette Article--Thanks Ashley!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 01:15:00 +0000

Update on Book Release Party

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 17:37:00 +0000

Here is a little more information about my upcoming release party for Judge of Israel on the 31 of July, 4-9 PM, 343 Community Lane, Sequim.

Among the things you can plan on enjoying if are able to make it are the following:

Israelite foods for you to sample, including: roast lamb, unfiltered barley beer, wine, flat bread, stuffed grape leaves, Lebanese olives, lentils, fava beans, traditional Lebanese cheese, fresh butter and a selection of traditional finger foods (figs, dates, pomegranates, apples, almonds, pistachios, grapes, raisins, watermelon, cucumber) and condiments (honeycomb, vinegar, olive oil)
A reading of an excerpt from the new book
A video presentation on everyday life in Iron Age Palestine
A video presentation on the fascinating connection between the stories of King David and King Arthur
Photo collections of locations in Palestine that correspond to scenes from the Eternal Throne Chronicles
Weapons and armor, including: bronze straight and sickle-swords, daggers, Mycenaean steel swords, a bronze Mycenaean shield, an oak bow and arrows in the style of ancient Canaan, spears, a replica of the sword of Goliath that King David carried
Replicas of clothing from the Biblical period
A collection of ancient coins that are mentioned in the Bible or depict people mentioned in the Bible
A kinnor lyre, similar to those used by the Israelites in David's day
A sample of ancient papyrus
A replica of the original scroll upon which the book of 1 Samuel was written (with archaic Hebrew writing)
A piece of ostraca engraved with archaic Hebrew writing
Dozens of books about life in Iron Age Palestine

All of the historical displays will be accompanied by museum-style printed explanations.

I hope to see you there!

Timothy S. Wilkinson

Well, That's a Deep Subject. Let's Not Get Into It.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 16:11:00 +0000

by Timothy S. Wilkinson

www.timothywilkinson.net

Today, if I want to relax for a bit, to learn what the people of my town are talking about, or perhaps run into some friends for a bit of conversation myself, I would probably go to a local coffee shop. Living as I do in Western Washington, these are found on nearly every street corner. They have become the social gathering place, much as taverns and pubs were throughout much of the 19th and early 20^th century. Those drinking establishments used to be called “watering holes,” and this was not only because they were a good place to slake one’s thirst. They followed in a tradition that went back to the very dawn of civilization. Since the first wells were dug in ancient Mesopotamia, they have served as a center for social gatherings, a resting place for weary travelers, and a site around which marching armies could camp.

Wells in ancient Palestine were typically covered with a flat stone of some kind, often large enough that it took several men to move it. Most were surrounded by some sort of low stone wall to prevent sand, animals, and people from falling in.

When the well was located in a city, the woman of the house, or her oldest daughters if she had them and they were of age, went to the well early in the morning and early in the evening each day. There she met up with other townsfolk for a few minutes of relaxation and a bit of gossip. Then she would laboriously fill and carry the water in large earthenware pitchers on her head, shoulder, or hip back home.

Some wells were located just outside a city’s walls. In these cases, some method was used to protect the well during times of siege and to provide a safe means to access it. Jerusalem, Hazor, and Megiddo all had deep wells outside their walls, and tunnels that ran under the wall and joined up with the well shaft.

If the well was along a road, though, or in the wilderness, it became a fiercely guarded tribal property. Water was so valuable during the dry season that any town square would host several “water merchants” selling potable water for a hefty profit. In parts of the Middle East to this day, drinking from another man’s well is considered an affront by the Bedouin people; for centuries, battles have been fought over the rights to particular wells. To stop up a well was an act of open hostility. (Some scholars believe this phrase refers primarily to wells that were actually shallow pits dug in dry riverbeds to collect the water that continued running beneath the surface; these could easily be “stopped up” by filling them with debris).

Wealthy families could afford to have their own cistern. This was essentially a water storage tank, usually dug out of the earth and lined with clay. Others were carved from solid rock; still others were more like pools on the surface of large courtyards. The cistern allowed the wealthy to avoid having to draw water every day. By the time of King Solomon, huge cisterns near Bethlehem (they look like giant, multi-tiered swimming pools carved out of stone) were connected to Jerusalem by aqueducts. Others were within the walls—to this day, a huge cistern in Jerusalem provides much of the water for gardening.

Subterranean cisterns were bottle-shaped, but typically large enough that a man could be dropped through the opening and be unable to make his way out unassisted—especially since the pits would grow slime on their wet walls.

In 1956 archaeologists uncovered the Pool of Gibeon referred to in 2 Samuel chapter 2. I have attached a picture to show how large and impressive this well was. It is comprised of a circular pit about 37 feet across and 82 feet deep. Over 3000 tons of limestone had to be removed to form this well shaft. It must have been an exhausting task for the women of Gibeon to descend to the bottom carrying their jars, fill them, and then climb back up the 79 steep steps with five to ten gallons water sloshing around as they walked.

Even more impressive is the fact that a number of the wells mentioned in the book of Genesis are still being used today. That means that it is possible to stand in the very footsteps of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Lot and drink water from the same well as these ancient characters.

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