THE TABERNACLE MENORAH:

A SYNTHETIC STUDY OF A SYMBOL FROM

THE BIBLICAL CULT
 THE TABERNACLE MENORAH:
A SYNTHETIC STUDY OF A SYMBOL FROM
THE BIBLICAL CULT

by
Carol L. Meyers

Second Edition
With a New Introduction

&
J®

GORGIAS PRESS
2003
 First Gorgias Press Edition, 2003.
The special contents of this edition are copyright €> 2003 by
Gorgias Press LLC.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States of America by Gorgias Press
LLC, New Jersey. This edition is a facsimile reprint of the
original edition published by Scholars Press in American Schools of
Oriental Research Dissertation Series (Number 2), 1976.

ISBN 1-59333-073-1

GORGIAS PRESS
46 Orris Ave., Piscataway, NJ 08854 USA
www.gorgiaspress.com

Printed and bound simultaneously in the United States of America and

Great Britain.
PREFACE TO THE REPRINT EDITION

More than a quarter century has passed since the publication

of The Tabernacle Menorah, and this reprint edition offers an
opportunity for me to comment on some developments in
the study of ancient Israel and its cultic structures and
symbolism that would affect what is contained in this book.
Its arguments might be modified in at least three ways. First,
the context suggested for the lampstand is the wilderness
sanctuary; because the existence of such an edifice would be
contested today, another postulated setting must be
considered. Second, the double-bowl (or "cup-and-saucer")
vessel proposed as a form that is represented by the term
gavia' (SP31) in the description of the lampstand may not be
appropriate in light of current archaeological analyses. Third,
the lamp stand's symbolic value is related to Yahweh
traditions in relation to ancient iconography; the range of
symbolic meaning must now be broadened with respect to
ideas of God and gender. Let me explain each of these issues.
A generation ago, the biblical narratives presenting
the ancestors of ancient Israel were recognized to be highly
legendary if not fictive tales. Yet the stories of the exodus and
the wilderness wandering, even if stylized and exaggerated,
were taken as essentially historical. Today, because the
archaeology and ecology of the Sinai Peninsula are much
better known and because the literary features of origins
narratives are much better understood, the historicity of the
account of the departure from Egypt and the long trek
towards the Promised Land is no longer accepted at face
value by most biblical scholars. Although some few
vi* PREFACE TO THE REPRINT EDITION

"minimalists" take the exodus-wilderness account (along with

the settlement and monarchy narratives) as a fictional product
of Second Temple Judaism, many more of us believe that it
contains a core of historical authenticity surrounded by layers
of mythic motifs and literary structures. In this scenario, the
events underlying the biblical story involve a relatively small
group of Semites, who had been conscripted or captured to
work on pharaonic building projects in the eastern delta and
then escaped their servitude and managed to retrace their
steps to their ancestral lands. Their memories of servitude
and liberation were ultimately expanded and dramatized to
reflect the larger experience of oppression and hope for
freedom of the peasantry in the highlands of Eretz Israel.
Given this new understanding of the exodus-
wilderness stage in the story of ancient Israel, it is no longer
possible to posit the reality of a substantial and elaborate
temporary cultic structure—the tabernacle—as part of the
Late Bronze Age culture of a handful of émigrés from Egypt.
A small portable set of cultic paraphernalia may indeed have
been possible and even likely, but the large and costly shrine
described in the tabernacle texts cannot be viewed as an
historic possibility. Thus I would no longer situate the
tabernacle menorah, as described primarily in Exodus 25 and
37, in a wilderness cultic structure.
However, the single "wilderness" menorah still
remains quite distinct from the ten lamp stands of the
monarchic temple; and its decorative elements are still best
associated with Near Eastern art and technology of the Late
Bronze and Early Iron Ages and not with the postexilic
period. Hence a more likely candidate for the context of the
lampstand mentioned in the books of Exodus, Leviticus, and
Numbers is the central shrine of the proto-Israelite tribal
groups before the establishment of monarchic rule.
According to traditions in the Former Prophets, the ark, the
tent of meeting, and an altar as well as the Aaronic priesthood
are all associated with Shiloh for the pre-monarchic period.
Thus it is certainly possible to suggest that the typical
 PREFACE TO THE REPRINT EDITION vii*

furnishings of a shrine of that period—including a light

source such as the lampstand and lamps appearing in the
tabernacle texts—would have been part of the Shilonic
shrine. Its costly nature and elaborate elements, though
perhaps exaggerated in the texts, would have been
conceivable in such a setting.
Another adjustment in the book would involve the
discussion of the term gavia' (SP31), which appears in the
plural and is translated "cups" in the NRSV and the NJPS. I
had suggested that these parts of the lampstand might be
related to the cup-and-bowl vessel known from
archaeological contexts in Syria-Palestine, especially from the
Late Bronze and early Iron Ages. Many hypotheses for the
use of that odd vessel—actually two vessels joined together,
with an inner deep cup attached at its external base to a
shallow bowl—had been suggested; and the theory that it was
a lamp, which had strong support at the time, appears in
Tabernacle Menorah.
These vessels may have sometimes served secondarily
as lamps, but a compelling case has recently been made for
their primary use as specialized receptacles intended for the
burning of fumigants, either in cultic or household contexts.
Certain features of the vessels' manufacture along with close
cross-cultural analogues, especially from the Aegean, point in
this direction. Identifying the cup-and-bowl vessels as censers
rather than lamps precludes their value in understanding the
D'Saj of the lampstand. That term, it seems, represents some
sort of container other than a vessel that served as a lamp.
But rendering it "cup" does not do justice to the fact that the
word denotes a special cup, not an ordinary everyday drinking
vessel. At the least, it signifies a goblet or chalice for special
occasions; and it may even reflect cultic use as a libation
vessel. How it figures in the design of the lampstand is not
clear, but its nature as a vessel that served elite purposes and
thus was probably larger and more elegant than an ordinary
drinking cup seems to be its salient aspect.
VIII* PREFACE TO THE REPRINT EDITION

Finally, the way the symbolism of the floral and

arboreal motifs of the lamp stand is presented in the book
might benefit from biblical scholarship of the last three
decades. In particular, in addition to the proposed symbolic
associations with Yahweh, those motifs can also now be
associated with fertility in relationship to female divine power
among the Israelites. The discovery of two inscriptions—at el
Qom near Hebron in 1967-68 and at Kuntillet 'Ajrud in the
Sinai in 1975-76—mentioning Asherah along with Yahweh
reawakened scholarly interest in the Canaanite goddess
Asherah and her role in the Bible and in Israelite religion.
And feminist biblical scholarship has added to the burgeoning
interest in the existence and meaning of goddess worship in
the biblical past. There is no longer much doubt about the
presence of Asherah in the pantheon of many Israelites,
including the royal family of the kingdoms of Israel and
Judah, for much of the biblical period. Moreover,
representations on archaeologically recovered materials, such
as an elaborate four-tiered stand from Taanach with rampant
animals flanking a branched pole/tree, suggest the
iconographic presence of Asherah in Late Bronze and early
Iron Age representations of sacred trees.
Thus the tree motif subsumed in the language
describing the lamp stand and related to the biblical
terminology for Yahweh's revelatory power and messianic
rule may encode levels of meaning in which female fertility is
likewise present. In other words, mythic elements associating
trees/plants with female as well as male deities can be found
in the iconographic vocabulary of the ancient Near East,
more specifically in Syria-Palestine at the time of early Israel,
and are perhaps conveyed by the arboreal details of the
lamp stand's graphic design and form.
The presence of those visual or material motifs in an
Israelite cultic appurtenance does not, however, mean that
the myths themselves were appropriated by the designers of
the lampstand and/or the authors of the texts describing it.
Symbols, I would still maintain, migrate across cultures,
 PREFACE TO THE REPRINT EDITION ix*

retaining their power but not necessarily their "explanations."

But even if the myths were part of the "authorial intent" of
the artisans or authors, it is hardly the case that they were
understood as such by all of those who knew of their
existence in the shrine. The control over meaning ascribed to
a graphic or textual idea at its origin is surrendered once the
image or word reaches another eye or ear. Thus the general
power of a cultic object expressing notions of fertility and life
might well transcend the specific myths or deities that give
rise to such representations. In any case, consideration of
goddess materials in addition to Yahweh signifiers in relation
to the botanic properties of the lampstand only serves to
enrich the range of its possible meanings, making it all the
more comprehensible that it was a major artifact in the
biblical cult and has endured for millennia as a symbol in
post-biblical tradition.

Carol Meyers
Duke University
May 2003
 FOREWORD

The conception for this work came originally from my

association with two people, and my gratitude to them knows no
bounds. My interest in the biblical cult, as an entry into the
vast territory of Israelite religion, grew out of what I began
to study in my very first semester of graduate school under the
expert tutelage of Professor Baruch Levine. Through his wisdom
and knowledge, the landmarks within that territory have become
visible and familiar to me. Just as important, his encourage-
ment, his support, and his advice over the years have consti-
tuted a crucial factor in my ability to bring this project to
completion.
My introduction to the world of symbols and ways of deal-
ing with them, though ultimately informed by the contributions
of E. R. Goodenough, was effected through my special relation-
ship with a student of his, Professor Eric Meyers. I am
uniquely fortunate in having a source of both scholarly advice
and human concern in the person of my husband. His utter and
complete cooperation in helping me with my responsibilities as
parent and homemaker as well as with my academic pursuits has
enabled me to persevere in my work. It is to his credit that
I have been able to do this with great joy and without a sense
of struggle.
In addition, Professor Nahum Sarna has read this manu-
script at every stage of its preparation. I am deeply grateful
for his comments and criticisms, and I have tried to take them
into account in my reworking of my materials.
The assistance of Professor Jonas Greenfield, especially
in philological matters, has also been invaluable. I am much
indebted to him for his incisive responses to my work.
One further fact should be mentioned here. Virtually all
of the research and writing involved in this dissertation was
carried out quite removed from Brandeis University and its
library. Under such circumstances, it has been my good fortune
to have been able to use the libraries of Duke University. I
should like to thank, in particular, Mr. Donn Michael Ferris,

v
Head Librarian of the Divinity School of Duke University, for
making available to me the extensive facilities and resources
of the Divinity Library. He willingly assigned a carrel for
my use and allowed me full borrowing privileges. Needless to
say, such cooperation has been vital in enabling me to gather
my materials and produce this work.

vi
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

FOREWORD v

LIST OF FIGURES xi

ABBREVIATIONS XV

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION—METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS 1
I. Cult Objects as Artifacts 1
II. Artifacts from the Cult as Symbols 4
A. Iconographic evaluation 4
B. Symbolic process 5
III. Procedures 9

CHAPTER II
BIBLICAL SOURCES 17
I. Terminology According to the Priestly Sources . . 17
A. Architectonic terms 18
1. m u D
2. nap
3. -p->
4. y n n
5. mns3
6. ms
7. m i a
B. Material and workmanship 26
1. -nnta ant
2. nrm nti/pn
II. Biblical Usage and Literary Sources Outside
the Tabernacle Texts 34
A. Solomonic 35
B. Second Temple 36
III. Conclusions 38
EXCURSUS: Some Details of Ancient Gold Technology . . . 41

CHAPTER III
ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOURCES 57
I. Introduction: the Matter of Function 57
II. Comparative Archaeology 59
A. Mesopotamian materials 59
B. Egyptian data 65
C. Syro-Palestinian remains 69
Lamps
Stands
D. Aegean evidence 77
III. Conclusions 81

vii
 Page

CHAPTER IV
THE SACRED TREE IN ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN ICONOGRAPHY . . 95
I. Introduction: General Considerations 95
II. Comparative Material 98
A. Mesopotamia 98
B. Egypt 107
C. Syria-Palestine Ill
D. Aegean 116
III. Conclusions 118

CHAPTER V
A TYPOLOGY OF TREE MOTIFS IN ANCIENT ISRAEL 133
I. Introduction 133
II. The Eclipse of the Fertility and Immortality
Themes 135
A. The fertility theme 135
B. The immortality theme 137
Summary 138
III. Theophanous Events Within the Temporal and
Geographic Sphere 139
A. Patriarchal events 140
B. Post-patriarchal events 141
Summary 143
IV. Cosmic Motifs Within the Imagistic Sphere . . . . 143
A. Arborescent presentations of deity 144
B. Arborescent Israel 148
C. Arborescent Messiah 151
Summary 153
V. Conclusions 154

CHAPTER VI
CONCLUSIONS 165
PART ONE. THE MENORAH IN THE ISRAELITE CULT 16 5
I. Evaluation of the Motif 165
A. Menorah as motif rather than apparatus . . . 166
B. Levels of meaning of the motif 168
II. Spatial Location of the Motif 170
A. Sacred space in the ancient Near East . . . . 171
B. Sacred place in Israel--the tabernacle . . . 172
III. The Function of the Motif 174
A. In the tabernacle setting 174
The Form
The Instrument
B. Consecutive imagery 178
IV. Summary 179
PART TWO. HISTORICAL AND METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS 181
I. Chronological Information 181
A. The wilderness period 182
B. Subsequent history 185
II. Cultural Affinities 188
III. Towards a New "Biblical Archaeology" 191

viii
 Page
FIGURES 205

SOURCES OF FIGURES 223

BIBLIOGRAPHY 227

ix
 LIST OF FIGURES

(Provenance and date are given when known)

1. High cylindrical stand with bowl; Lachish, LB I.

2. Simple cylindrical stand, flaring at top and bottom; upper
register of limestone plaque from Ur, Early Dynastic per-
iod.
3. Simple cylindrical stand, flaring at top and bottom;
"Mother Goose" relief from Nippur, Old Akkadian period.
4. High cylindrical (earthenware ?) stand with single molding
on constricted portion; relief from Lagash, neo-Sumerian.
5. Flaring cylindrical stand with single molding, stylized
branch, and drooping fruit; relief from Susa, neo-Sumerian
or later.
6. Tall cylindrical altar stand, with bowl-shaped receptacle
on top and flaring base; seal cylinder of Tukulti-Ninurta
I.
7. High stand with flaring bowl containing a conical form
(burning incense ?); Late Assyrian seal from Assur.
8. High offering stand with flaring bottom, single molding,
dish, and stylized cone; plaque of Shalmaneser III.
9. Shoulder-high stand with flaring base, ledge, bowl, and
flaming cone; obelisk of Assurnasirpal II.
10. Tall stand with flaring bottom, triple molding, bowl, and
seven-pointed flame; painted ceramic bucket from Assur,
8th century.
11. Elaborate stand with fluted shaft, two capitals with in-
verted leaf decoration, bowl, and conical top; one of two
identical stands shown on garden relief of Assurbanipal
from Nineveh.
12. Offering stand with slightly flaring bottom, platter top
supported by a single molding; wooden panel of Hesy-ra,
Third Dynasty.
13. Offering stand with platter top, constricted center,
single molding, and flaring bottom; slab-stele of Wepemno-
fret. Fourth Dynasty.
14. Offering stand with single molding, bowl-shaped recep-
tacle; primitive niche-stone of Sehefener, Second Dynasty.
15. Cylindrical stand with campanaform capital; pillar relief
of Sesostris I at Karnak, Twelfth Dynasty.
16. Low offering stand with constricted center, single mold-
ing; commemorative stone of Araosis I, Eighteenth Dynasty.
17. High offering stand with platter, flaring upper and lower
portions, convex ring at constriction; grave relief,
Eighteenth Dynasty.

xi
18. Simple stand with flared top and bottom, supporting a
libation vessel and a lotus branch; limestone stele of the
Late Period.
19. Hand-held censer in the shape of a miniature offering
stand with flaring top and bottom; grave stele, Eleventh
Dynasty.
20. Decorated stand with two elaborate down-turned capitals
and platter top; throne of Tutankhamon, Eighteenth
Dynasty.
21. Four-spout lamps: A. el-Husn, MB I; B. Megiddo, MB IIA.
22. Seven-spout lamp; Tell e?-§Sfi, Iron I.
23. a,b. Two examples of double-bowl lamps; Tell el-Hesy.
24. Hand-held cylindrical stands supporting double-bowl lamps
with central flames; Temple T at Kawa, 7th century.
25. Pottery stand with bowl, flaring bottom, conventionalized
down-turned petal decoration, two narrow convex rings;
Megiddo, Iron I.
26. Painted incense stand with bowl, down-turned petal capi-
tals, convex moldings; Megiddo, Iron II (?).
27. Upper portion of tall stand with triple down-turned petal
decoration; bas-relief from Tyre, 6th (?) century.
28. Pottery stand with flaring bottom and attached double-bowl
lamp; Megiddo, pre-Iron I.
29. Pottery stand with attached quatrefoil bowl lamp; Beth
Shan, EB II.
30. Knobbed bowl with basal projection; Gezer, LB II/Iron I.
31. Lamp with basal projection fitted into ceramic stand; el
Jib, Iron I.
32. Tomb group with stand, bowl, and lamp; Gezer, LB II.
33. Miniature lamp modeled into three "branches" at the top of
a ceramic stand; Tell Beit Mirsim, Iron II.
34. Purple gypsum stone "lotus lamp" with quatrefoil fluting,
lotus bowl capital, foliated rim, and petal molding;
Knossos, MM III.
35. Stone pedestalled lamp with bulging elaborate molding,
petal rim; Palaikastro, LM I (?).
36. Bronze lampstand with triple volute lamp support and three
rows of lotus petals on the shaft; Cyprus, 6th century.
37. Incense stand with flaring bottom, three rows of down-
turned petals, three horizontal ledges (presumably repre-
senting support and bowl); Phoenician seal, 9th-7th cen-
tury.
38. High stand with flaring bottom, three stylized (petal)
decorations, two ledges (representing support and bowl),
flaming incense; Phoenician seal, 6th (?) century.

xii
39. High incense stand with flaring bottom, triple inverted
petal decoration, ledge and bowl; Carthaginian grave
stele, 4th-3rd century.
40. Tall incense stand with stylized triple (petal) decora-
tions, bowl and ledge; Carthaginian grave stele, 4th-3rd
century.
41. Incense stand with flaring bottom, triple conventionalized
(petal) design, bowl, conical flame; Punic stele from
Lilybaeum, 4th century.
42. Naturalistic tree, with slight tendency towards styliza-
tion, flanked by birds; painted bowl from Susa, 4th mil-
lennium.
43. Stylized tree with regularly-arranged branches and leaves,
antithetical birds; stone vase from Khafaje, 4th millen-
nium.
44. Triple theme of tree, animal, and astral form; seal from
Susa, Elamite.
45. Two trees in cult scene, one with two bands on the trunk
and resting on a stand, animals in lower register; archaic
cylinder (4th millennium).
46. Stand with two spiked branches before seated deity with
worshipper bearing a goat; archaic cylinder (4th millen-
nium) .
47. Tree on mountain with flanking animals and astral symbols;
Akkadian seal.
48. Seated goddess with three branches sprouting from each
shoulder; cylinder.
49. God seated on a mountain with three rays emanating from
each shoulder; cylinder.
50. Ishtar with horned headdress and three pairs of weapons
rising from her shoulders; cylinder.
51. Seated god with three pairs of stream banks flowing from
his shoulders; facing Ishtar with three pairs of weapons
rising from her shoulders; cylinder.
52. Composite plant and two antithetical animals; detail from
a Nuzian cylinder seal.
53. Hand-held Mitanni "ball branch"; cylinder from Nuzi.
54. Artificial tree composed of a column with three bands and
a network of fruit-bearing branches, flanked by cultic
figures, with a winged disc and other astral symbols over-
head; Assyrian cylinder seal.
55. Bundle lotiform column and capital, quatrefoil in section;
Beni Hassan tomb, Twelfth Dynasty.
56. Djed column with four superimposed capitals.
57. A typical form of the Djed column with four superimposed
capitals.

xiii
58. Antithetical human figures flanking a conventionalized
plant design and surmounted by a winged symbol; Egyptian-
izing scarab from Gaza.
59. Conventionalized tree or branch with single animal; Egyp-
tianizing scarab from Tell Fara, Sixteenth Dynasty.
60. Typical example of a group of Mitanni-style local Pales-
tinian seals depicting antithetical animals and a seven-
ball branch; Lachish, LB II.
61. Mitanni-type theme of seven-ball branch on triangular
(mountain ?) base; seal, cut and laid out like a scara-
boid, from Lachish, LB II.
62. Metopic design on Ajjul ware showing tree and antithetical
animals; Lachish, LB II.
63. Metope showing antithetical animals flanking a stylized
tree consisting of three pairs of branches on a central
axis; ceramic ewer from Lachish, LB II.
64. Composite tree form and Egyptianizing elements; Cypriote
elaborate-style seal, LB II.
65. Six-branched tree with ledged stem plus human figure and
assorted symbols; Cypriote common-style seal, LB II.
66. Six-branched tree with ledged stem plus human figure and
assorted symbols; Cypriote common-style seal, LB II.
67. Tree with worshippers and assorted symbols; Cypriote
common-style seal, LB II.

xiv
 ABBREVIATIONS

AASOR Annual of the American Schools of Oriental

Research

AD W. Muss-Arnoldt, Concise Dictionary of the

Assyrian Language

AEL E. W. Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon

AfO Archiv fur Orientforschung

AH Akkadisches Handaorterbuch, ed. W. von Soden

AJ Antiquaries Journal

AJA American Journal of Archaeology

AJSL American Journal of Semitic Languages

AJSLL American Journal of Semitic Languages and

Literature

ANEP J. Pritchard, ed. The Ancient Near East in

Pictures

ANET J. Pritchard, ed. Ancient Near Eastern Texts

AOB H. Gressman, Altorientalische Bilder zum Alten

Testament

ARI W. F. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of

IsraeI

BA The Biblical Archaeologist

BANE The Bible and the Ancient Near East, ed. G. E.

Wright

BAR The Biblical Archaeologist Reader I, eds. G. E.

Wright and D. N. Freedman; III, eds. E. F. Camp-
bell and D. N. Freedman

BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental

Research

BDB F. Brown, S. R. Driver, C. A. Briggs, Hebrew and

English Lexicon of the Old Testament

BH Biblica Hebraica

BJ Bonner Jahrbucher

BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands Library

BLS C. Brockelman, Lexicon Syriaoum

BSAE British School of Archaeology in Egypt

BSOS Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies

CAD Chicago Assyrian Dictionary, ed. A. Leo Oppen-

heim

CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly

CPP J. Darrow Duncan, Corpus of Dated Palestinian

Pottery

DB Dictionary of the Bible, ed. J. Hastings

EB Encyclopedia Biblica, ed. T. K. Cheyne and J. S.

Black

EJ Encyclopedia Judaiaa, ed. Cecil Roth

HLD Harper's Latin Dictionary, ed. E. A. Andrews

HT History of Technology, ed. C. Singer et al.

HTR Harvard Theological Review

HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual

ICC International Critical Commentary

IEJ Israel Exploration Journal

JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society

Jastrow M. Jastrow, Dictionary

JBL Journal of Biblical Literature

JHS Journal of Hellenic Studies

JJS Journal of Jewish Studies

JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies

JPOS Journal of the Palestine Oriental Society

JSGRP E. R. Goodenough, Jewish Symbols in the Greco-

Roman Period

JSS Journal of Semitic Studies

JWI Journal of the Warburg Institute

JWCI Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes

xvi
KB L. Koehler and W. Baumgartner, Lexicon in
Veteris Testamenti Libras

LS H. G. Liddell and R. Scott, Greek-English

Lexicon

MJ Museum Journal

OIP Oriental Institute Publications

Payne Smith Syriac Dictionary , ed. J. Payne Smith

PEF,QS Palestine Exploration Fund, Quarterly Statement

PMK Arthur J. Evans, Palace of Minos at Knossos

PSBA Proceedings of the Society for Biblical

Archaeology

RB Revue Biblique

RHR Revue de l'Histoire des Religions

RSV Revised Standard Version: The Holy Bible

SAT R. J. Forbes, Studies in Ancient Technology

SCWA W. H. Ward, Seal Cylinders of Hestern Asia

SH Scripta Hierosolymitana

VT Vetus Testamentum

ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissen-

schaf t

ZDP Zeitschrift des deutschen Palästina-Vereins

ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissen-

schaft

xvii
 CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION—METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS

I. Cult Objects as Artifacts

The tabernacle texts of the Pentateuch are rich in detail.

In verse after verse and chapter after chapter, the biblical
account contains a precise and technical record of the setting
and mode of worship for the children of Israel. The elaborate
tabernacle with its special furnishings, the priestly apparel
with its varied accoutrements, and the ritual offerings with
their appropriate instructions—these are all laid out in the
priestly sections of the book of Exodus.
It seems ironic, then, that we are able to learn so little
from this wealth of information. One brief verse from a psalm
or a prophetic book, approached with the help of all the vast
information that modern biblical research can supply, can often
be understood with great clarity and thus can provide us with a
nuanced meaning that allows deep insight into the verse and its
function. But what happens when we turn to cultic texts? Why
do whole chapters leave us with little more understanding or
knowledge than might be gleaned from a list of metals or gem-
stones known in antiquity?

The strictly cultic texts, it must be recognized, are a

unique type of scriptural literature.'1" All the rest of the
Bible deals directly with historical and theological matters.
Man's relationships with his fellow men and with his God are
chronicled; his reactions to his environment and his heritage
are recorded. Likewise, God's position vis a vis the children
of Israel is described and explored in all its aspects.
In contrast, the cultic texts—prescriptive, descriptive,
l e g a l — d e a l with the material sphere of life. It is precisely
because of the non-human nature of the subject of these texts
that they are so difficult to penetrate, that they yield so
little. In dealing with other sorts of literature, our very
position as human beings confronting the products of human ex-
perience in the past can, once all properly scholarly avenues
have been pursued, provide us with the spark of insight that

1
2

makes tenable interpretations and fruitful explanations pos-

sible. Such a possibility is rare or non-existent for cultic
texts. To be sure, the recognition in one of the technical
terms of the cognate of another ancient Semitic word is very
helpful; and the identification of certain cultic practices
with rituals found elsewhere in the ancient Near East is inval-
uable. But, in dealing with specific items in the cult (as op-
posed to trends and patterns in the cult as a whole), such ad-
vances are often of little value. Somehow, despite the most
careful scholarly scrutiny, the cultic texts in the Bible re-
main lifeless and unreal.
However, this situation can be relieved by viewing the
cultic texts, or at least the objects enumerated therein, in a
somewhat different manner from the way they are usually ap-
proached. As part of ancient literature these texts are, in
2
the broadest sense of the term, archaeological data. But in
addition, by their concern with material, non-human matters,
they constitute archaeological data in the most direct artifac-
tual way. The problems that beset an archaeologist when he
unearths a cultic device are of the same order as the problems
that must be dealt with in the examination of the textual de-
scription of a cultic device. The description of some appur-
tenance in the tabernacle texts must be considered as belonging
to the same order of evidence as the published plate of some
such object in an excavation report. We should not be con-
cerned if the verbal description found in the biblical account
does not always provide us with an accurate mental image or an
exactly reproduceable object; for the possession of such an
image or object in itself would tell us no more than does the
possession of an actual artifact.
The ultimate goal of archaeological research is not the
dating of a pot nor the reconstruction on paper or in actuality
of an ancient shrine nor the relating of an object to a close
parallel; these are only the necessary steps in making the
products of excavations useful. In the final analysis, how-
ever, archaeology is truly valuable only when its artifactual
materials lead us closer to the people who produced them and
give us a glimpse of the function that these artifacts per-
formed in the lives and thoughts of their possessors.
 3

Similarly, in approaching "biblical artifacts" 4 —those buried

in texts rather than in dirt—our hope is not solely to date
the usage of a particular altar nor to construct a model of the
Tent of Meeting nor to produce parallels to the cherubim,
though such endeavors are necessary as preliminary research.
The ultimate aims are, as in dirt archaeology, an understanding
of how objects, especially those of more than instrumental
value,^ functioned for the people who made and used them and
consequently a deeper understanding of the human factor re-
flected in them.
Thus the ultimate aims of archaeology coincide with those
present in dealing with various aspects of biblical literature.
However, the methodological approach to an understanding of
biblical artifacts must take into account the specific mater-
ial, non-verbal nature of the evidence even though that evi-
dence reaches us through written archival traditions. Arti-
facts exist first and foremost in the world of forms and con-
sequently have their own unique properties. Since forms are
created primarily for the sense of sight and exist within
space, their vigor is separated by a profound difference from
the vigor of ideas that are expressed in words. Their ways of
relating to and expressing the needs and potentials of the hu-
man psyche differ fundamentally from the ways in which concepts
expressed in words reflect human response to the world.
An artifact, especially a cultic artifact, operates in
this world of forms. And forms activate feelings directly;
they express at once innermost activity whereas ideas expressed
in words emanate from the processes of rational thought. To
put it even more sharply,

in order to exist at all, a work of art must be

tangible. It must renounce thought, must become
dimensional, must both measure and qualify space.
It is in this very turning outward that its inmost
principle resides.
g
Thus, while writers and artisans living at one time and one
place both bear the sensibilities of occupants of the same cul-
tural moment from which their creative efforts emerge, they are
really producing independent systems of expression that occa-
sionally may converge and at points appear to be interchangeable
4

but are in essense independent modes of human interaction with

the world.

II. Art-ifacts from the Cult as Symbols

A. Iconographic evaluation

A general approach to the objects found in cultic texts

has been established: they are to be considered artifacts ex-
isting within space. At this point another crucial fact must
be emphasized. These biblical artifacts are not merely remains
of "secular" every-day life. Their presence in the biblical
record is not an arbitrary fact. They appear in the descrip-
tion of the material cult not as random decorations but as es-
sential religious objects to be executed in a specific way.
The very fact of the elaborate detail in which cultic appurte-
nances are presented is an indication to us that such objects
are important at a level beyond their literal shape and physi-
cal function. They are, in fact, artistic f o r m s — a s has been
suggested a l r e a d y — w h i c h operate as religious symbols and as
such bring to us a whole new realm of possibility for investi-
gation.

Of course it is incumbent upon all who deal with artifac-

tual remains to attempt to relate them to the literary data.
In the case of the artifacts of the biblical cult, there cer-
tainly are clues in the Bible and other ancient literatures
that are helpful to us in our attempts to comprehend these ar-
tifacts. However, in trying to set them into their living con-
texts, the philological-historical approach must be set into a
methodological framework which recognizes and is appropriate to
the material nature of the artifacts. Only in this way can we
come closer to understanding their function and thus their
9
meaning to the people who used them than we would by philo-
logical-historical method alone.
Artifacts insofar as they operate within the material
realm must be treated within the iconographic sphere if their
ultimate meanings are to be ascertained. Actually, three suc-
cessive levels of meaning'''® can be associated with a given ob-
ject for which matters of design and form are at least as im-
portant, if not more important, than matters of usage. The
 5

first level is concerned with the physical shape or form of

which an object is composed and what that reflects on at a
natural level; it is a matter of the object's graphic history
and identity. The second level deals with the conventional and
thematic meaning associated with a given graphic form within a
particular cultural tradition; it is a matter of identifying
themes with graphic motifs. The third level concerns the in-
trinsic way in which the existence of an object within a the-
matic frame of reference works upon the minds of the individu-
als to which it is exposed; it is a matter of its symbolic
value.

B. Symbolic process

It is this third level of meaning which benefits from an

understanding of the symbolic process. Scholarship in the 20th
century is replete with interest in this subject.1''' Indeed, if
any intellectual approach can be said to characterize this age,
it is the recognition, largely as the result of developments in
mathematics (the data of which are "symbols") of the importance
12
of symbolization as the key to understanding human response.
No matter what the individual slant of the various disciplines
that deal with symbolism, it is widely agreed by psychologists,
philosophers, theologians, anthropologists, and neurologists
that symbolization is the fundamental process of the human
mind, that "symbolism is the recognized key to that mental life
which is characteristically human and above the level of sheer
animality. Symbol and meaning make man's world."'''''
However, beyond the articulation of the crucial position
of symbolization on human mental processes, the many different
approaches to symbolic thought cannot be of much help in our
task at hand, the study of biblical artifacts qua religious
symbols. Perhaps depth psychology and psychoanalytic theory,
which have dealt with specific symbolic forms more directly
than have other disciplines cannot be ignored; but it must be
remembered that psychological interpretations are based for the
most part upon dream analyses, which are concerned with pri-
vate, individual, symbolic representations rather than with the
public symbols of religious art. The social aspect of
6

religious symbols must not be overlooked; religious symbols

would not function at all did they not call up common attitudes
14
and feelings. Thus, while psychology is invaluable as we
shall see in assisting our comprehension of the dynamics and
properties of symbols, its usefulness in the actual interpre-
tation of specific symbols must be balanced carefully by his-
torical research.^
How then can our specific subject matter be approached?
No foray into the field of symbolism in religion can fail to
recognize the monumental contribution of Erwin R. Goodenough.
In studying the artifactual remains of Jews in the Greco-Roman
period, he was forced by the nature of his evidence to evolve a
method for dealing with it.^' Insofar as our evidence is of
the same order as Goodenough 1 s, his discoveries and conclusions
concerning the nature and behavior of symbols are especially
pertinent.
To begin with, we must make it clear what we mean by a
symbol. Assuredly there is no universal definition which would
satisfy all those concerned. The simple statement by Ovid that
18
a symbol is a form which means more than what we actually see
is as good a place to begin as any. A symbol is thus an
image or design with a significance, to the one who
uses it, quite beyond its manifest content....A sym-
bol is an object or pattern which, whatever the rea-
son may be, operates upon men, and causes effect in
them, beyond recognition of what is literally pre-
sented in the given form.

Further, since symbols mean more to us than what meets the eye,
they have the power to move us, to arouse our emotions. They
connote to the beholder more than what is visible in their
literal forms.
This power to arouse us, this emotional impact, represents
20
what Goodenough calls the "meaning or value of a symbol.
This characteristic of symbols is of central concern from the
standpoint of studying religious symbols in ancient art. His-
torically, it is obvious that certain symbols can be found in
many cultures. Where these cultures are contiguous in space
and/or time, the appearance of the same symbols is hardly ac-
cidental. The fact that a symbol can make the transition from
 7

one culture to the next is a result of the continuity of value

21
inherent m symbols.
This migration of symbols is predicated upon the fact that
all symbols arise from a universal inner need of man, namely,
his need to respond to the conditions of life by the symboliza-
tion of experience. Thus the "perennity of symbols, which sur-
vive their various and passing explanations, is conditioned by
the perennity of man's condition." 2 2 Inasmuch as symbols arise
from man's confrontation with reality, they can neither be in-
23
vented nor abolished. This retention of value, of emotional
clout, is what enables symbols to be transferred from one reli-
gion to the next; it is the continuity of value in a symbol
that makes it "live," or "active," in the terminology of Good-
u 24
enough.
At this point it is important to note that a distinction
must be made between borrowing a live symbol and borrowing the
explanation that may have accompanied it. The theory that sur-
rounds a symbol is secondary to the emotional value that it
carries; indeed, the explanation is of a different order en-
tirely. This becomes obvious when one observes that a single
symbol may have markedly variant explanations attached to it,
even within a single religious tradition, to say nothing of the
new and often elaborate explanations that develop in the cross-
cultural migration of symbols.
As a matter of fact, the appearance and growth of value in
a symbol as a visual stimulus occurs originally in a non-verbal
25
setting. Though verbal explanations may eventually and in-
evitably be attached to symbols, the words are really symbols
in themselves and as such are essentially independent of the
material form. Even when the artist or designer himself ela-
borates upon a product of his creativity which utilizes cultur-
al symbols, the resulting texts are, often as not, failures in
the sense of not being true reflections of the intrinsic mean-
ing of the design.
This seems to be the case from the earliest examples of
artistic self-commentary. Goff, in a study of Egyptian art of
the Twenty-First Dynasty in which explanatory texts at times
accompanied symbolic scenes, found that on the second level of
8

meaning, where a thematic identification was sought, the texts

seemed to be very general and could be applied to a number of
art forms.2® Even on the third level, where a more elaborate
text, often mythological, was offered, such texts in fact "were
not necessarily companions of the design. Like the designs,
they were often capable of accomplishing their purpose quite
27
independently. "
In short, visual forms are extremely active entities,
manifesting themselves with exceptional vigor,2 8 translating into
space a whole range of movements of the mind. All the strata
of subject matter inherent in a symbolic form are inseparable
aspects of the artifact, having merged into one organic whole
which is the tangible product of these combined levels of mean-
ing.
That this phenomenon can occur in a way which results in
the emotional commonality of certain symbols, whereby they can
move from one culture to a contiguous one, regardless of the
names or myths or aetiologies connected with them in their var-
ious settings, provided Goodenough with the impetus to develop
29
a psychological framework for his studies of symbolism. The
ultimate validity or relevance of his psychology of religion
cannot be dealt with here.'*" It is his psychological under-
standing of the dynamics of religious symbols rather than their
relation to primordial life urges which has been most helpful.
Yet we cannot escape the question of what gives certain reli-
gious symbols their perennity, their continuing emotional
value.
Throughout the millennia of human history, religiosity in
man has been a consequence of his need for security. Ancient
religious texts repeatedly reflect man's anxiety about his food
supply and his concern for his health and safety. In seeking
sustenance and protection, man must variously please or appease
his deities in his attempt to assure their cooperation. The
world of religious symbols, then, is the realm of forms which,
because of their emotional impact, can aid in man's striving
to approach the source of material survival and safety. The
emotional value comes from the ultimate relation of symbols to
life-giving and life-sustaining forces.
 9

However, there seems to be an inherent danger of trivial-

ity which accompanies this understanding of the emotional value
of symbols. Indeed, as Henri Frankfort has pointed out, ^ both
Frazer and Freud, who were contemporaries and whose works bear
a certain family resemblance, "attempted to penetrate beyond
the complexity and variety of cultural symbols; both reduced
them to the outcome of an essentially simple process." For
Frazer and for much of the history of religions that followed
in his wake, the whole range of things dealt with in the Golden
Bough develops from the universal preoccupation with food and
fertility. For Freud and for much of modern psychology, the
related and equally universal preoccupation with the libido,
the sexual appetite, is the key dynamic. Thus both Freud and
Frazer "reduced the complexities of civilization to something
32
essentially natural, s i m p l e — a n d , we may add, trivial."
In the realm of psychoanalytic theory, Jung has to some
extent "rescued the dignity of man by rediscovering the meta-
physical depth of his imaginative symbols. In the realm of
history of religions, a similar balance to the Frazerian per-
spective has been achieved to some extent by a recognition of
the depths of human strivings which go beyond life preoccupa-
tions, strivings which relate to the quality of that life with-
in this world and to the place of that (moral) quality within a
hieratic reality.

III. Procedures

This work will have as its aim the study of an artifact

from the biblical cult, namely the tabernacle menorah as it is
set forth in the priestly portions of the Pentateuch. It
should be clear from what has been presented above that several
stages of investigation must be pursued if we are to progress
towards an understanding of how this biblical artifact operated
within the cult of ancient Israel. In actuality, we shall pro-
cede along the lines of scrutiny that are necessary for the
comprehension of any object that is something more than an in-
strument of usage. In other words, the three levels at which
such an object operate need to be identified if the way in
which they are integrated into a whole is to be understood.
10

To begin with, on the primary level, an attempt must be

made to discover as closely as possible the form assumed by our
object and the details and techniques which characterize its
construction. Chapter II is devoted to this task of recovering
the real object from the textual traditions in which it is pre-
served. Philology is of its greatest assistance in this en-
deavor, which involves a study of all the various terms which
together serve to present this object in the biblical sources.
In addition, the other references to menoroth in non-priestly
biblical passages will be scrutinized.
Once the literary sources have been examined thoroughly,
archaeological sources will be consulted for further illumina-
tion of the physical properties of the object. This step in
our investigation, which constitutes Chapter III, might more
accurately be designated "comparative archaeology." Delving
into the texts will have uncovered for us an object. The in-
formation made available in that way will then be related to
what has been unearthed in other—and in this case actual—
excavations. That is to say, the form of the tabernacle me-
norah as well as the details of its execution will be related
to comparable forms and details as they appear in the cultures
that surround ancient Israel, namely, Mesopotamia, Egypt,
Canaan (Syria-Palestine, in archaeological terms), and the
Aegean (or, to be more accurate, the islands of the east Medi-
terranean, especially Cyprus but also Crete and to some extent
the Greek islands).

It will become clear as a result of the study of biblical

and archaeological sources that the details of form and fabri-
cature alone do not complete our understanding of the object.
Thus the peculiar seven-branched shape as well as the general
vegetative and repetitive characteristics will be scrutinized
also in Chapter IV, as they appear in the above-mentioned cul-
tures of the ancient Near East. In this way the second level
of meaning, the thematic identification of the object, can be
determined insofar as Israel's history is rooted in these cul-
tures in more than just a material way. For her religious tra-
ditions were influenced, both positively and negatively, by the
milieu from which they emerged. There existed a lingua franca
 11

of cultural expression from which Israel drew her own particu-

lar characteristics.
Finally, at the third level of meaning, the symbolic value
of the object within the biblical cult, as a specific histori-
cal manifestation of that object, must be approached. Chapter
V will be a prelude to this task, setting forth the way in
which ancient Israel perceived the motif inherent in the second
level of meaning. And Chapter VI, by way of conclusion, will
deal with the tabernacle menorah within the Israelite cult. As
its emotional overtones become clear, the manner and purpose of
its integration into the Israelite religious experience can be
understood.
In addition to the evaluation of this object as a symbolic
motif within the cult, the concluding chapter also will deal
with the historical implications produced by the weight of all
the comparative data amassed along the way. As an authentic
biblical artifact, the tabernacle menorah was subjected to the
same forces of development of style and technique as were other
archaeological realia. Therefore, insofar as its features can
be identified, its relation to similar features which can be
localized in time and space in the surrounding cultures can in-
form the specific historio-cultural context in which it was in-
tegrated into the Israelite cult.
 NOTES

CHAPTER I

For an identification of the genre of certain of the

cultic texts, see Baruch A. Levine, "The Descriptive Tabernacle
Texts of the Pentateuch," J AOS 85 (1965), pp. 307-18.
2
It xs in the Albright tradition to include epigraphic
materials among the data of archaeology. See, e.g., W. F.
Albright, "The Impact of Archaeology on Biblical Research--
1966," pp. 1-3, and G. Ernest Wright, "Biblical Archaeology
Today," pp. 170-71, both in New Directions in Biblical Archae-
ology, ed. David Noel Freedman and Jonas C. Greenfield, Garden
City, New York: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1971.
3
According to de Vaux (among others), "On Right and Wrong
Uses of Archaeology," Near Eastern Archaeology in the Twentieth
Century (Glueck festschrift), ed. James A. Sanders, Garden City,
New York: Doubleday S Company, Inc., 1970, p. 65, archaeology
is limited to the realia, or material remains, as distinct from
written sources even if the latter are provided by excavations.
4
We use this term in a unique sense, sis. , to note realia
of biblical life, whether or not their nature or existence out-
side the biblical text can be identified from the findings of
actual excavations.

^See George Kubler, The Shape of Time, New Haven: Yale

University Press, 1962, p. 16, for a differentiation between
objects of use, or instrumental value, and objects of more
penetrating significance. He asserts that "when the technical
organization of a thing overwhelms our attention, it is an ob-
ject of use." Conversely, when the technical organization of a
thing is diminished in relation to its design, it becomes a
work of art.

®See Henri Focillon, The Life of Forms in Art, trans. C.

B. Hogan and G. Kubler, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1942,
p. 55.

'Ibid. , p. 3.
Q
On the relations and discontinuities between poets and
artists, see Kubler, pp. 27-28.
g
See F. C. Grant's case for the "Psychological Study of
the Bible," Religions in Antiquity (supplement to Numen, XIV),
ed. Jacob Neusner, Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968, pp. 107-24, and
Herbert G. May's "Prolegomenon" to Farbridge's Studies in Bib-
lical and Semitic Symbolism, New York: Ktav Publishing House,
Inc., 1970, pp. XI-LIX.
^^Kubler, p. 26. Kubler is following the classic work of
Erwin Panofsky, Studies in Iconology , New York: Harper and Row,

13
14

2
Publishers, 1962 . See the chart in Panofsky, pp. 14-15, for
an analysis of the three levels of meaning of an object and how
they can be identified and evaluated.

^ A good indication of the vast work and variety of ap-

proaches to symbolism can be found in Stephan Wisse, Das Reli-
giose Symbol, Essen: Ludgerus-Verlag Hubert Wingen KG, 1963.
See especially Wisse 1 s extensive bibliography, pp. XI-XLIX.
Two examples of the collections which deal specifically with
religious symbolism are Religious Symbolism, ed. F. Ernest
Johnson, New York: Institute for Religious and Social Studies,
Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1955, and Symbolism in
Religion and Literature , ed. Rollo May, New York: George
Braziller, 1960.
12
Susanne Langer, Philosophy in a New Key, Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1957, pp. 6-24, identifies symboliza-
tion as the "generative idea," the main concept in which the-
ories are conceived and questions articulated, of our epoch.
On this point see also the view of Mircea Eliade in the Forward
(pp. 9-25) to his Images and Symbols, trans. Philip Mairet, New
York: Sheed and Ward, 1961.
13
Langer, p. 28. See also pp. 41-49.
14
See R. M. Maclver, "Signs and Symbols," Journal of Reli-
gious Thought X (1953), p. 103.
•^Rollo May, himself a practicing psychologist, distin-
guishes man's archetypal and personal symbolizing from symbols
which obtain in his culture. See "The Significance of Sym-
bols," Symbolism in Religion and Literature, ed. Rollo May,
p. 22.

^Specifically, his Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Per-

iod, 13 vols., New York: Bollingen Foundation, Inc., 1953-1968.
17
His method is delineated in Chapter Two, "Method in
Evaluating Symbols," pp. 25-62 of Vol. IV, and is condensed and
summarized in Chapter Five, "Jewish Symbols: The Method of
Evaluation," pp. 64-77 of Vol. XII.
Ip
Heroides, Epist. XIII,155, quoted in JSGRP IV: 28.

20
Ibid., Vol. IV: 36 and XII: 70.
21
Goodenough has eminently demonstrated this in his whole
study of Jewish symbols. See also Daniel J. Fleming, "Reli-
gious Symbols Crossing Cultural Boundaries," pp. 81-106, in
Religious Symbolism, ed. F. Ernest Johnson.
22
Elias Bickerman (HIR 58), quoted in Paul Friedman, "On
the Universality of Symbols," p. 610, in Religions in Antiqui-
ty, ed. Jacob Neusner.
 15

23
See on this point Paul Tillich, "Theology and Symbol-
ism," p. 109, in Religious Symbolism, ed. F. Ernest Johnson.
Also note Eliade's concern with the "survival of images," pp.
16-20.
2i
JSGRP IV: 33 and XII: 72-73.
25
Beatrice Goff, Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia, New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1965, p. xxxvii and pp. 210-11,
posits three levels in the development of a symbol within a
culture whereby the appearance of an elaborate explanation,
sometimes in the form of a myth, is the last and not the es-
sential level. Her three levels are equivalent to the three
levels of iconographic meaning discussed above.
26
Beatrice Goff, "The 'Significance' of Symbols: A Hypo-
thesis Tested with Relation to Egyptian Symbols," Religions in
Antiquity, ed. Jacob Neusner, p. 476.
21
Ibid., p. 505.
28
See Focillon, pp. 5, 16.
99
JSGRP IV: 48-62.

^®See Jacob Neusner's appraisal of this problem in his

"Notes on Goodenough's Jewish Symbols," Conservative Judaism
17 (1963), pp. 86-7.
31
In The Problem of Similarity tn Ancient Near Eastern
Religion, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1951, p. 19.
32
Ibid. Frazer himself sometimes doubted whether that
result was worth achieving.
33
Ibid. However, in Frankfort's opinion, p. 20, Jung has
gone too far in that much of his work tends not only to eluci-
date but also to create myth.
 CHAPTER II

BIBLICAL SOURCES

The seven-branched lampstand or menorah assumes a unique

position within the symbolic language of the Bible and of later
Jewish tradition. For the Second Temple period, a variety of
extra-canonical sources testify to its importance as well as to
its appearance. 1 During the Greco-Roman period and even until
2
the present day, it became the most frequently occurring Jew-
ish symbol, despite the Talmudic injunction forbidding its re-
production."^ The complex details of its fabrication are set
4
forth in Exodus along with various instructions for its place-
ment,^ its consecration,® its usage,' and its transport.® This
abundance of information clearly attests to the position of the
menorah among the major appurtenances of the tabernacle and to
its being an integral part of the ritual. The very fact of the
attention paid to its details along with the phenomenon of its
enduring nature in biblical and Judaic tradition indicates that
it embodied at its outset a highly significant religious sym-
bolism.
Much has been written
9
concerning the meaning of the meno-
rah as a Jewish symbol. But this information hardly can be
used to ascertain its significance at the time of its inception
into the biblical cult.1® Instead, in order to examine the
place of the menorah in the early cult, 1 1 we must proceed along
the lines of investigation described in our Introduction and
attempt to understand its form, relate it to the lingua franca
of Near Eastern symbolism, and then consider its entry into
Israelite religion.
I. Terminology According to the Priestly Sources

The biblical language which prescribes and describes the

fabrication of the menorah in the tabernacle account employs a
very technical vocabulary which must be examined closely. The
purpose of such an examination is not to afford the possibility
of a physical reconstruction. Many of the terms, despite what
may be said to illuminate them, must remain obscure as to what

17
18

they actually, visually, might represent. Moreover, their

structural relationships with each other are often very diffi-
cult to comprehend. Nonetheless, a thorough study of the terms
which describe the menorah and its components is the only way
in which we can enter the world of its physical reality and ap-
proach an understanding of its essence.
Insofar as the understanding and translation of technical
terms involves the various versions of the Hebrew Bible, a word
might be said here concerning the peculiar characteristics of
the Septuagint in this respect. The manner of treatment of
technical words in the description of the tabernacle is quite
12
remarkable in this version. Whereas a competent translation
would be expected to choose its technical renderings accurate-
ly, even though its non-technical vocabulary might be varied
legitimately, the Greek Pentateuch-indeed, the Septuagint as a
whole whenever technical terms are i n v o l v e d — i s replete with
inconsistency and variety in its translation of technical
terms. This type of variation is spread throughout the priest-
13
ly portions of the Pentateuch and constitutes a rather cur-
ious phenomenon in an otherwise competent translation. Since
precise renderings were not made, for whatever reason in anti-
quity, the possibility for modern man to do so is that much
more remote.

A. Architectonic terms

1. illDD
14
The word for "lampstand" in the Hebrew Bible is m i J D
(English "candlestick" in the AV and RV is anachronistic), a
nominal form from the common root, 1 ^ ( 1 1 3 ) = nyr {nur) . This
is a good Semitic word which probably meant, originally, "to
flame." It can be compared with Ugaritic nyr and Akkadian
nuru, both of which have celestian associations; Arabic and
Aramaic traditions are similar. 1 5 The lampstand is thus, with
the mem-preformative added to the verbal stem, the repository
or support of the lamp, the latter object being the thing which
flames. An interesting and perhaps parallel development is the
related mnhrt, or "torch," in M i n a e a n . ^
 19

2. mp

The main structural parts of the menorah, its branches and

presumably its shaft, are indicated by another common Semitic
word, rnp. Found in Ugaritic as qn{m) and in Akkadian as qanu,
it also appears in Phoenician, Syriac, and Aramaic and passes
into Greek as navva and Latin as oanna (and eventually into
17
English, "cane"). It is a generic term for reed and gener-
ally refers to the tall, slender arundo donax or "Persian
18
reed." This plant is actually a gigantic grass growing to a
height of eight to eighteen feet and a diameter of two to three
inches at its base. It is common throughout Syria, Palestine,
and the Sinai Peninsula particularly
19 along the margins of
watercourses or bodies of water. Because of its strength, it
was put to all sorts of uses in antiquity. It was utilized as
some sort of measuring rod, as in Ezekiel 40, 41, and 42, where
it seems to be an instrument of measurement rather than a unit
20
of measure. It denotes the beam of a set of scales in Isa
46:6. And it no doubt served various other derivative func-
tions, such as staffs, spears, and arrow shafts, as well as
basic structural purposes such as thatching or wattling.
Aside from its derived uses, the reed itself is mentioned
in various biblical passages. In such instances, HJP over-
whelmingly appears in Egyptian contexts. Reeds, growing in the
swamps and marshes of the Nile, came to symbolize the nation
itself. In Isaiah 19, an oracle against Egypt, we are told
that "the
reeds and branches of Egypt's
rushes will Nile
rot away." 21 will diminish
Another andagainst
oracle dry up,
Egypt in Ezekiel 29 portrays Egypt as a "staff of reed," unre-
22
liable, breaking (vntl) when relied upon by Israel. This
verse seems to rely upon the parallel passages in Isa 36:6 and
2 Kgs 18:21, in which Hezekiah is rebuked for depending upon
"Egypt, that broken reed (Y"l2nn m p n ) of a staff, which will
pierce the hand of any man who leans on it. Such is Pharaoh,
king of Egypt, to all who rely on him." Even when Egypt is not
specifically named, the context conjures up a vivid picture of
23
Nile marshlands. In general, the Egyptian background of the
imagery of these passages is most striking.
The choice of H3P to identify the branches of the menorah
is quite reasonable. It certainly reflects a reed-like shape;
20

it may even reflect a non-metallic prototype, made of actual

reeds, which existed as a model in the mind of its designer.
A link between the plant itself and its structural use in the
lampstand can perhaps be found in a verse in Isaiah referring
to the Servant of the Lord: "a bruised reed (V"i2f"l HJJp) he will
24
not break/ and a dimly burning wick he will not quench."
"Bruised reed" reflects the sort of natural image contained in
Isa 36:6, 2 Kgs 18:21, and Ezek 29:6-7. But in juxtaposition
with "dimly burning wick," it can convey also the idea of a
damaged lampstand. In this case, it would represent Israel as
a damaged support for a nearly extinguished light which would
nonetheless survive. She is injured but not broken, dimmed but
not put out.
That m p represents the six side branches of the menorah
is clear. That it also refers to the central shaft of the
lampstand is less certain. In Exod 25:31 and 37:17, the cen-
tral part of the menorah is described almost as an entity in
itself, with its own features; the branches and their ornamen-
tation are presented subsequently. The lampstand is made with
Ftipl P D V , etc. It is as if these two terms refer to the main
structural elements of the lampstand, which is then completed
with the addition of the bowl-capitals-flowers unit. The idea
of a seven-branched lampstand per se does not appear in the
text. Rather what does appear is the description of a lamp-
stand with its components and then the description of six
branches with components that project from the lampstand, i.e.,
the central part. In other words, there seems to be a confu-
sion between m i 3D used to represent the whole, composite con-
struction and the same word used to represent the central ele-
ment thereof.

3. -pi

This confusion is reflected in the phrase F1JP1 PD"1">. The

Hebrew obviously refers to single items, one nip and one IT 1 ,
which are part of the menorah. ¡Up in this sense can hardly
represent "branch" but instead would mean "shaft" or "stem,"
neither of which would be inconsistent with the vegetative con-
notations of nip translated "branch." However, the Samaritan
 21

Pentateuch transmits this phrase with plural constituents,

26
rPJpT rPDT>. The Septuagint strikes an intermediate ground
with a singular rendering of T P and a plural rendering of rup.
It is our understanding that the Masoretic text is correct,
with this phrase indicating the main lampstand (without its
branches), and that the LXX and Samaritan versions have con-
fused this with the composite structure.
TP in itself is a difficult term. If i"QP means "stem,"
with regard to the central lampstand, then T P could hardly
mean "shaft," which is what both the Greek and the Latin of-
fer. 27 Only the Syriac would provide the translation selected
by the RSV, "base." Elsewhere in the Bible, T P is an anatomi-
28
cal term referring to the thigh. That "thigh" could come to
represent a structural feature is certainly possible; in many
instances the names of parts of the body are transferred
29 to in-
animate objects (such as table leg, handle, etc.). Insofar
as the thigh indicates the thick, fleshy part of the leg, we
can well imagine that T P could refer structurally to some sup-
portive element in a lampstand, something which in effect could
enable it to "stand."
That it actually was a distinct base is questionable
though not impossible. Wherever in the Bible T P is found in
reference to inanimate objects, the idea of "side" or "flank"
is conveyed.^" It is not inconceivable that the lampstand
originally had no base at all"'''' and that this T p / n ^ p combina-
tion was structurally capable of 32
standing on its own, without
the addition of a distinct base. Whereas ¡"Up alone would
convey the impression of a shaft (or branch) of uniform diam-
eter, the appearance of T"P along with it could well represent
33
a thickened segment of the H3P element towards the bottom.
In short, H3pT T P together are used to present the idea of an
unusual HJp, not of equal thickness throughout its length but
rather of wider diameter at its lower portion to enable the
structure it supports to be free-standing. The phrase thus
would mean "thickened shaft."
Much of the remainder of the parallel menorah passages in
Exodus is concerned with the design, or ornamentation, of each
branch and of the central stand. In effect, this ornamentation
22

is the combination of three elements—cup, knob, and flower—

repeated three times on each of the branches and four times on
the main stand. However, ornamentation is a word to be used
guardedly in reference to these combined forms. Certainly they
were quite decorative; but they also were functional inasmuch
as they (or at least those of the central shaft) were used to
34
hold the lamps. In this respect they cannot be considered
strictly ornamental anymore than an elaborate capital surmount-
ing a column can be seen as purely decorative.

4. y n n

The word rendered "cup" by the RSV is Hebrew V 1 3 . This

is perhaps an Egyptian loanword from kbh.w (or qbhw) meaning
"libation vessel. In addition to its appearance in the
menorah passages, y>23 appears several times in the Joseph cy-
cle to denote the silver vessel which was placed in the sack of
Benjamin as he and his brothers were leaving Egypt.One
37
other occurrence is the Rechabite section in Jeremiah, where
it seems to be a vessel containing wine; it is followed by the
ordinary Hebrew word for cups, mD"l3, from which the Rechabites
are ordered to drink. Another
38 biblical word, n y a p , seems to
come from the same root. It appears in Isa 51:17 (and 22) to
indicate some sort of vessel, parallel to D13.
The Greek renditions of V i a are different
39 in each place.
In the Joseph story, K6V6U, "drinking vessel," is used; that
this indicates distinctly a cup or goblet is not clear. The
Rechabite passage employs Hepaiuov,
40 which is a general term for
"earthenware vessel or jar." Finally, the menorah passages
of Exodus contain the word MpaTiip, which is specifically a bowl
or basin for the mixing of (and sometimes the drinking of)
41
wine.
A Ugaritic equivalent, qb't, appears in I Aqhat 216, 218,
parallel to ks; it refers to a vessel required for the drinking
of a wine mixture by Pgt. 4 2 This Ugaritic example is analogous
to the usage of nynp in Isaiah and y a j in Jeremiah. In all
these instances, the word in question is parallel to "cup." It
is not necessarily synonymous with "cup" but perhaps indicates
a somewhat different vessel which was involved in the mixing
and/or serving of wine.
 23

There also seems to be an Akkadian cognate, qabuati (plu-

43
ral of qabTXtu) . The locus alassiaus of this word is the
Black Obelisk of Shalmaneser III. The caption to the relief
depicting Jehu's homage contains a list of the golden vessels,
among which are 44
the qabuSti "
hurasi, offered as tribute by the
Israelite king.
The AV rendition "bowl" is perhaps to be preferred for
y a : insofar as "cup" (RSV) gives the impression that the He-
brew word is DID. V33 undoubtedly was a vessel of a somewhat
different shape from D13 used in wine consumption. That it was
broader and more bowl-shaped may be inferred by noting45 that the
corresponding feature on the lampstand of Zechariah 4 is
46
This word can be related to Akkadian gullatu, which
means "ewer" or, probably in a derivative sense, some sort of
curved architectural
volutes, astragal, or feature of a column
bowl-shaped capital.such
47 as its base,
Indeed, the
shafts of the two pillars flanking the main entrance to the
48
temple were crowned with or bowl-shaped objects
which were part of the capitals. And in Josh 15:19 = Judg 1:
15, n>3 appear as receptacles for water, perhaps
49 playing upon
the toponyms appearing later in the verses.
One further feature of the D ^ V ^ J must be considered.
They are said to be D">1pti/D, commonly taken from the root "Tpifl
and rendered "made like almonds" (RSV) or "almond blossoms." 5 "
It is difficult to understand exactly what is meant by such a
term. The almond tree, being the first to bloom in the
spring, 5 1 did seem to hold some fascination and hence signi-
52
ficance in antiquity. One other possibility which must not
be overlooked is that the word is a technical term referring to
some sort of repousee work or perhaps to a type of inlay work
in the shape of almonds.5"'
Thus the word y>23 has a very interesting background in
relation to the tabernacle menorah. Its usage, despite the
fact that an equivalent Hebrew term (n>3) might have been
equally accurate, perhaps indicates a separate architectonic
tradition. It denotes a bowl-shaped object which, if it be
considered together with its analogue in Zechariah, seems to
have a distinct structural function (which will become clearer
24

when archaeological and technical considerations are presented

below, pp. 70-72, 81-82) . Finally, a vegetal term (TptiiD) , if
not also a term from the vocabulary of metal crafts, appears as
a feature in its construction.

5. nnsD
Two other items are listed in the biblical passages as
being related to the construction of the "bowls." One is the
TinB3 and the other is the m s . Tins:) (inS3) is used elsewhere
54
in the Bible to denote some structural feature, judging from
its occurrence in conjunction with "threshold" and "window."
This architectural designation is perhaps not so far removed
from its seemingly ornamental intent in the menorah passages.
The Greek and Latin versions both render
55 TinSD with words con-
veying its spherical or round shape. However, the Targuitt and
the Peshitta both preserve a vegetative meaning by translating
it with KTiTn. These words indicate "apple" or, in a deriva-
tive sense, something round or apple-shaped.^® This Syriac/
Aramaic word can be traced to Akkadian haShuru, a 57variety of
apple tree or the fruit which such a tree bears. The Akka-
dian word also is found in its derived sense 5to8 indicate beads
or stone ornaments in the shape of an apple. Significantly,
in the Peshitta is used in addition to the menorah pas-
sages to translate nnsD of Amos 9:1. Further, it is found in
Eccl 12:6 to indicate .
"Capital," therefore, may be a derived meaning from a term
representing a kind of fruit. In this connection, the sugges-
59
tion that Tin£D can be related to Syriac ,rfiJtajcx^or rf-ik^
(kmtr') can be considered.®0 kmtr' refers to the pear and is
related to Akkadian kamiSSaru. Furthermore, in Egypt this
somewhat rare type of pear is called kummatra. If this be
the case, the key to the transition from the fruit to the
designation of an architectural member would lie in the vege-
table columns and floral capitals of ancient architecture and
will be discussed below, pp. 110-11, 121-22.
6. m s
m s likewise represents a vegetative form translated into
architectural design. That it denotes the "lily" seems most
 25

likely. The Targum, Peshitta, and Vulgate all take it as such.

The Septuagint renders it Hpivov, which can have the general
meaning of "flowers."®"* However, xpt.vov is also the word em-
ployed to translate ^tilts or its variants wherever they occur in
the Bible. Both npt-vov and '¡tintii are in fact words as general
as the English word "lily," w h i c h is applied to flowers of a
number of various gena of the botanical order liliaoeae as well
64
as to some not of that order.
Of course, ins has all sorts of floral meanings in the
Bible. But in addition to the fact of its being rendered
"lily" by all the versions, we find that in settings related
to the architectural context of the menorah descriptions, nlS
is often accompanied by '¡tinta. In the account of the fabrica-
tion of the molten sea, the edge of that structure is said to
b e like '¡tíntíí m s at the edge of a cup.®® Moreover, the tops
of the pillars Jachin and Boaz are said to be of "lily work,"
•¡bib ntovn. 67
In this latter case (1 Kgs 7:19, 22), "¡tin» ntayn seems to
be a •pars pro toto designation. In v. 19 it is used to de-
scribe more generally the decoration of the m m , the details
of which appear in the preceding verse. And in v. 22, it is
found with the even more general term 0">"TlDVn (instead of
nina) as a summary description of the pillars. Another pars
pro toto
usage of m 3 occurs in the description of the lamp-
68
stands for the Solomonic temple. Very few details are given.
Only m s is listed along with the lamps and the snuffers. No
doubt it represents a more involved construction in the same
w a y that "¡tint!/ nfflVQ conveys the elaborate arrangement of the
capitals of Jachin and Boaz.®® Comparable also is the refer-
ence to the tabernacle menorah in Num 8:4: the workmanship is 70
summed up by the phrase "from its base (roT 1 ) to its flower."
The juxtaposition of m s and n n S D in the Exodus menorah
passages is really to be understood as a hendiadys. The two
terms taken together denote a floral, or more specifically, a
lily capital. This arrangement, repeated three times, is part
of each of the six branches proceeding from the central stand.
In addition, the stand itself features four such arrangements,
three of which project beneath the place from w h i c h issue each
26

pair of branches. The fourth presumably is at the top of the

lampstand with its bowl serving as receptacle for the lamps.

7. m * u
It is to be noted that lamps, nTili , has a singular femi-
nine suffix, of which m i 3 D is the antecedent. Whether it re-
fers to the composite lampstand including all of the branches
or only to the central portion thereof cannot be determined.
The placement of the lamps is thus ambiguous. Are the seven
lamps distributed over the six branches and the central stand?
Or are all seven to be found within the bowl of the central
71
stand as is the case for the Zecharxah menorah?
The matter of the lamps is a complicated one for which no
easy solution exists. Not only is there difficulty concerning
the arrangement of the lamps, but also there seems to be a con-
fusion relating to the lighting of one lamp as opposed to
seven. Exod 27:20 and Lev 24:2 both contain instructions for
bringing pure olive oil, that a lamp (singular) may burn con-
tinually CPDn) . Elsewhere, the priestly writer states that
lamps (plural) are to be set up to give light before the lamp-
stand (the composite stand or the central part?). 72 It has
been suggested that where "U occurs in the singular it is being
73
used in a collective sense. However, the two instances m
which the singular occurs also make reference to the "tent of
meeting." This raises the possibility that there is a single
lamp tradition stemming from the 'Ohel Mo'ed tradition which
becomes merged with the tabernacle tradition by the priestly
writer. 74

B. Material and workmanship

The description of the tabernacle menorah is concluded

with provisions for the material of which it is to be made as
75
well as the manner in which it is to be fashioned. These
two matters, material and workmanship, are not elaborated upon.
However, details of ancient technology are well enough known to
enable us to understand quite adequately what is meant by
Tinii 3PIT, "pure gold," and nrm ntspn n^n, "the whole of it one
piece of hammered work" (RSV).
 27

i. mnta am

The terra Tints 3HT or "pure gold" is consistent with the

priestly vocabulary with its emphasis on ritual fitness and
purity. However, in this case, since it is part of a passage
which preserves many ancient technological and/or architectonic
details, we must be receptive to the possibility that it re-
flects at the same time some aspects of metallurgical proce-
dure. An Excursus dealing with methods of gold recovery and
processing in antiquity has been included at the end of this
chapter for reference on the subject. Our treatment of the
term itself will focus on its philological nature and also on
its place against the technical backdrop of other biblical
references to gold.
The word Tina is an adjective from the root "intD which has
the general sense "to be clean, pure." This word exhibits a
number of special connotations, ranging from the notion of
"brightness" to the concept of ritual "purity. In this re-
spect it is similar to the way in which ellu functions in Ak-
78
kadian. Ellu can be used in both a secular and a cultic
sense to indicate the purity of objects, materials, and animals
as well as water. It can also refer to "shining" purity, as of
certain gems, or brilliant light, or shining features.
Typical
concerns biblical
the matter of usage occurs
ritual in 79
purity. priestly documents
Such purity and a
is not
hygienic category and does not reflect the presence or absence
80
of dirt. However, this does not mean that washing with wa-
ter could not be a way to effect purity, even though such a
process might be symbolic or magical rather than a means for
removing visible contaminatory materials. 81 The cognates of
"linta in South-West Semitic seem to be related to this concept
82
of purity.
The idea of "brightness" is also conveyed in a number of
biblical passages, notably Exodus 2 4 and Psalm 19, in which
brightness is part of a cosmic
83 vocabulary relating to the Lord
in his heavenly dwelling. In this sense, the Ugaritic evi-
dence is relevant. Thr appears in Ugaritic in only
84 one con-
text, in reference to lapis lazuli, thrrn iqnim. This phrase
also occurs in a variant form, zhrm iqnim. The quality of
28

the gemstone that is indicated in the Ugaritic occurrences is

part of a description of the habitation to be built for Baal.
As such, along with Exodus 24 and Psalm 19 and other ancient
86
Near Eastern descriptions of shrines, it seems to be part of
a stereotyped way to portray a temple or divine dwelling, built
of gold and lapis lazuli.
Hebrew "intD accommodates both senses, that of utter clean-
liness or freedom from contamination, i.e., "purity" and also
"brightness." Usually one or the other of these possibilities
is clearly appropriate. However, there may be instances,
notably where "lino is used in relation to metals, gold in par-
ticular, in which both connotations can be understood. There-
fore, m n u must be examined now as it appears together with
3PIT. This combination of words can be seen as a metallurgical
87
term when viewed in relationship to the treatment of gold
elsewhere in biblical sources.
To begin with, it must be noted that biblical Hebrew pre-
serves a metallurgical vocabularly that is firmly rooted in an-
cient technology. 8 8 Although the terms used to describe gold
are not nearly so varied as in the more technologically orient-
89
ed societies of Egypt and Mesopotamia, the Bible nonetheless
preserves a variety of words for gold which can only be seen as
precise terms, the meanings of which cannot always be recov-
90
ered. Some of these words deal strictly with the geographi-
cal origins of metal, such as gold from Ophir, Havilah, Sheba,
and perhaps Parvaiim and Uphaz. 91 Others describe the proper-
92
ties or qualities of gold or denote certain kinds of gold.
In strictly non-cultic passages in the Bible, nnt!l 2PIT
belongs to the group of terms for gold which describe certain
technical properties or characteristics of the metal. The
geological tract of Job 28:1-19 is instrumental in revealing
the technical attribute carried by lint). The search for wisdom
is likened to the prospecting for and recovery of metals and
gems, and gold is found several times as would be expected.
V. 6 mentions ant m s y , which is somewhat difficult
93 and
may refer either to the earth as source of gold dust or
rather to alluvial soils containing gold, or perhaps it indi-
cates the red-gray color of dry earth which may characterize
 29

94
certain varieties of impure gold. Gold from Ophir appears
95
in v. 16. V. 17 refers to ts, which may be a variety of
96
gold. Finally, gold appears again in v. 19, and nnia is its
97
qualifier. In the midst of all this specialized discussion
of metals and minerals, the attribute lino adds a technical
dimension and hardly presupposes a matter of ritual fitness.
A clue concerning the nature of the specific technical di-
mension reflected in Tinta nnT as a terminus teahniaus can be
found in a passage in Malachi:
t]"12fD BSO K-in-rro 3:2b
D^DnDD r m n r n
CID:D -intam cnxn n a m 3:3
C1DDT••"]>-•':n-nK nncn
2HT3 DDK ppTI
n p i m n m n •'Ecid rnrr>> v m

The "smelter's fire" of 3:2 refers to the process of refinement

of the metal, which of course involves heating it. The paral-
lel phrase "fuller's soap" (lye or alum) reflects some sort of
washing process. In the next verse, 3:3a, the two processes
are noted again; the one who performs the first is the cpSD,
whereas the one who carried out the second is called the "intlD.
Thus the root "ino, in the sense of purity, is firmly associa-
ted with actual washing and also with metals. In the following
stichoi the same two concepts are repeated a third time, only
in reverse order and this time in the extended and abstract
sense of the chosen words. The sons of Levi will be purified
and refined 98 like gold and silver.
Clearly, some processing operating concerned with "wash-
ing" of the metal is indicated by the verses in Malachi. Such
a procedure is technically related to either the natural or
mechanical methods of obtaining a quality of gold that is rela-
tively free from impurities. These methods are described below
99
in our Excursus and reflect in particular the type of re-
sources available to the ancient Egyptians in the securing of
supplies of "washed gold."
Therefore, though the usual priestly use of lino expresses
matters of ritual or cultic purity, the likelihood is strong
that when it refers to gold it also conveys a technical meaning
30

relating to methods for procuring pure gold by "washing." An

examination of Tint) 2HT in cultic contexts in the Bible outside
the Pentateuch seems to bear this out. For if Tint) were an in-
dication of the required cultic purity of gold, one might ex-
pect it to appear to describe the character of gold wherever
gold is found in a cultic context. As it happens, while the
tabernacle texts and other priestly sections of the Pentateuch
use mntD exclusively to describe the gold of the menorah and
other appurtenances, the description of the construction of the
temple in Kings nowhere speaks of Tint) ant. Yet the Chroni-
cler, under the influence of both Priestly and Deuteronomic
traditions, records lint) 2nT as well as other types of gold in
a revealing manner.

To begin with 1 Kings, the main type of gold utilized in

Solomon's building project is designated TI3D 3nT. It is found
in 1 Kgs 7:49-50 in relation to the lampstands for the house of
the Lord; in 1 Kgs 6:20-21 it represents the gold used to plate
(nss) the cedar beams of the inner sanctuary; and in 1 Kgs 10:
21 it refers to the gold plating on King Solomon's ivory
throne. This designation of gold, "113D 3nT, seems to be the
exact equivalent of hura.su sakru or sagru, the precise meaning
of which has long eluded the experts.''"''0 In any case, T12D nnT
is intimately connected with Solomon's building projects, which
are carried out with material and technical assistance from the
north (via Hiram of Tyre).
As far as the Chronicler is concerned, whenever he repeats
a passage of Kings dealing with Tiao ant, he sometimes retains
it.^1 In other instances he replaces it with anT.'1"02 In
yet another passage the Chronicler understands TBTO ant of
Kings to be 1130 n n T . 1 0 3
And in one final passage, Chronicles
104
changes 11JD nnT of Kings to lino inT. However, where
Chronicles expands upon the Kings account (as in 2 Chr 3:4 and
perhaps, with several Greek manuscripts, v. 5) or independently
reports a golden utensil (2 Chr 28:17), the phrase Tint) 3nT is
uniformly employed. What this leads us to believe is that the
Chronicler was strongly influenced by the term associated with
the priestly passages. When elaborating upon the Deuteronomic
historical work, his own choice is 11 no 3HT; and when directly
 31

reporting Kings material, he cannot bring himself to retain

"HDD but sometimes changes it to "lino or another qualifier.
In any case, the technical precision of all these terms
seems to be meaningless to the Chronicler. In contrast, the
independent consistency of Kings and of the priestly passages
might be said to indicate a cognizance of the metallurgical nu-
ances involved. The latter source thus is making use of a word
which bears, in relation to the menorah, a full complement of
the possibilities inherent in T i n t a , viz., purity, brightness,
and technical source.
This technical meaning also may be indicative of geograph-
ic origin. There is a tendency in the Bible for gold which is
imported from some distance to be designated by its geographi-
cal source. Yet Egypt, the greatest producer of gold in anti-
quity and also the one nearest to Israel, is never mentioned as
the origin of gold even though other, more distant African
sources are sometimes indicated. Thus the use of "lino a n t , in-
sofar as it reflects the technical washing process for the re-
covery of the "pure" metal, perhaps can be understood as refer-
ring to the gold closest at hand, the gold retrieved from the
rich alluvial deposits of Egypt for which the term "washed
gold" singularly is appropriate.

2 . nrw rtopD n>3

The matter of workmanship alluded to by the phrase n>D
nnK ntBpn needs finally to be examined. Actually, there are two
separate issues involved in this phrase, the first being the
matter of the form in which the raw material was presented to
the craftsman 1 " as he began his task of giving shape to the
object, and the second being the technique he employed in exe-
cuting a finished product from the material he utilized.
The first matter relates to the fact that the malleability
of gold is one of its outstanding features. Because of this
malleability, gold became valued from earliest times above all
other metals for jewelry, ornamentation, and architectural dec-
oration. The words tT?D and nnht are our clues concerning the
form in which the craftsman began to work with his material.
An object that is to be made entirely of g o l d — a n d this perhaps
32

is the sense of n>3—would be formed either from gold leaf or

gold foil. Certainly ancient technology, while not capable of
producing the degree of thinness possible with modern tech-
niques, did indeed produce both gold leaf and gold foil as thin
and as workable for such purposes as any produced in Europe un-
til as recently as the 18th century.'''0®
It seems impossible at first to determine whether the me-
norah of gold was fashioned from gold leaf or gold foil. The
use of nrm may indicate that the gold from one unit (ingot) was
hammered thin enough to supply sufficient material for the con-
struction of the entire object. Even more to the point is the
force of nr« as suggesting that one large sheet of gold was to
be used. This may be clue enough that sheet gold or foil is
the material in question. Gold leaf, in contrast, is too thin
to remain in large pieces without tearing. As the English word
"leaf" suggests, gold leaf was prepared in small phylloform
portions for application to a (wooden) form. In this case,
nnK...n>D would be the technical designation for sheet gold as
opposed to gold leaf.
This brings us to the matter of the method of construction
and to the meaning of the word ntBpO; and as far as the method
can be determined, this too indicates the use of sheet gold.
The text does not indicate that the gold was used to overlay a
form made of wood, in contrast to the directions for other ap-
purtenances of the t a b e r n a c l e . T h e r e seems to be no explan-
ation for this unless we assume that the thinner gold leaf was
used to overlay (HSli) objects of wood, such as the ark and
table, which were angular objects, relatively simple in shape,
and that the slightly thicker sheet gold or gold foil was em-
ployed when intricately-shaped and curved objects were to be
fashioned. In the latter case, the existence of a wooden model
is prerequisite. As a rule, sheet gold is molded into the de-
sired shape by rubbing it over the model of the object to be
, 108
made.
Thus, while no mention of a wooden form appears in the
109
text, for technical reasons a model, probably of acacia,
must be posited. Technically, it was not overlaid with gold
leaf as were many other furnishings of the tabernacle.
 33

Instead, being a rather complicated form, it had to b e shaped

over a model and hence had to be made of the thicker sheet
gold. Many objects made in this fashion, such as bowls or hel-
m e t s , w e r e used upon completion quite apart from the models
upon w h i c h they were hammered. Other objects, such as sculp-
tural representations of animal or human figures and such as
the m e n o r a h , probably could n o t b e self-standing w i t h o u t their
m o d e l s ; indeed, the model hardly could be removed from the fin-
ished product.

Only one other item in the Bible is mentioned as being

made of ¡TOpD gold w o r k , viz., the cherubim. Technological-
ly, they too would need to be constructed over a wooden form.
On the other h a n d , none of the various vessels of the taber-
n a c l e , such as the plates and dishes for incense, the flagons
and bowls for libations, and the snuffers and trays (and
lamps?) for the lampstand, ^ ^ are said to b e ntiipn; nor are
they said to be made of wood and overlaid with gold leaf. The
possibility remains that they were fabricated by the one method
of gold w o r k not yet noted, that of casting the metal in m o l d s ,
a method w h i c h would b e uniquely suited to the manufacture of
numerous items of a given shape. On the other h a n d , since such
items were more in the line of accessories rather than of major
appurtenances, perhaps there w a s deemed no need to specify the
manner of construction.

In any case, establishing that sheet gold is the appro-

priate material and that the technique involved is that of
shaping it over a wooden form allows the word HtflpD to be under-
stood w i t h greater clarity. Of course, it is possible that
this word refers to the preparation of the m a t e r i a l , i.e., the
flattening out of the gold into sheets. In this sense it would
b e the parallel operation of that w h i c h is indicated by the

root y p i , which seems to describe the preparation of gold leaf

112
to b e used in overlay (i1S2f). However, Vp"l may in fact
designate the preparation of all gold that is beaten out into
flattened shapes as a prelude to its utilization by a craftsman
either for overlay or for molding. In this case, PIBPD would
refer to the process to which the sheet gold is subjected and
n o t the process for obtaining the sheet gold.
34

Analysis of the word ntiipQ itself cannot at this point of-

fer definitive corroboration of this fact but it does seem to
point in that direction. The Hebrew root ntBP, "to be hard,
severe, fierce," is not a satisfactory derivation; and the
lexicons posit a separate root, ntffp , as the source of HBpD, but
114
then cannot locate or define such a root. However, in Ara-
maic there exists a series of related verbs in the pilpel—
ti/ptap, Bonn, and tint»3 — all of which convey the notion of strik-
ing or knocking.'''15 Interestingly, the literal movement at the
basis of these meanings is the to-and-fro motion of an animal's
tail; similarly, the ringing of a bell as a result of the to-
and-fro swinging of the clapper can thus be conveyed.
It may be noted that the back-and-forth motion indicated
by these words, which of course do not in themselves imply rub-
bing, would convey the sort of motion involved in the rubbing
process by which gold foil was shaped over a wooden form into
the desired object. This conclusion about process of manufac-
ture, viz., that the menorah was molded by rubbing the metallic
foil over a form, has been reached from a technological per-
spective .

II. Biblical Usage and Literary Sources Outside the Tabernacle

Texts

The foregoing examination of the terminology denoting the

components and fabrication of the menorah according to the
tabernacle texts has shown that those texts have preserved a
delineation of the object that is firmly rooted in ancient ar-
chitectonic design and technical execution. While our under-
standing of the visual appearance of the object may not be at
a point whereby we could hope to reproduce a theoretical model
of this artifact, that has hardly been our goal. Instead, the
cultural reality of the object has been demonstrated by the
fact that the details of its construction are technologically
precise even though the specific aspects of that precision may
be lost to us. Only a consideration of archaeological mater-
ials, which will be effected in the subsequent chapter, can
bring us closer to the possibilities that exist for identifying
specifically what the terms indicate in a physical sense.
 35

Meanwhile, the fact cannot be ignored that menorahs ap-

pear in the Bible outside the tabernacle texts to say nothing
of the multitude of references in post-biblical literature.
Such occurrences reflect the cult objects existing in the cen-
tral sanctuary during the First and Second Temple periods. We
turn briefly to such references now to determine in what posi-
tion these menorahs as physical realities stood in the relation
to the tabernacle menorah. The matter of their symbolic rela-
tionship to the menorah of the priestly writings will be dealt
with below in Chapter V I . 1 1 6

A. Solomonic

Very little detail is given concerning the menorahs of

Solomon's temple. It is merely stated in 1 Kgs 7:49 that Solo-
mon made "the lampstands ( m o f pure gold ("HID 1HT), five
on the south side and five on the north, before the inner sanc-
tuary: the flowers and the lamps, and the tongs, of gold."
There can be no question of the plural tiniJD in this verse;
the addition of the "five on the north" and "five on the south"
leaves no doubt that ten menorahs were fashioned for the house
of the Lord in Jerusalem.
The description of these lampstands does not allow for any
comparison of them with the tabernacle lampstand. There is no
reason to assume that they were in any way similar except in
the generic sense that they all supported lamps. To suppose
that the Solomonic stands were branched, although that is not
impossible,'''"''^ would be reading into the text something that
simply does not exist. As a matter of fact, if the artistic
tradition in which they stand is that of the northern coast, as
would be expected because of the Tyrian role in the construc-
tion of the temple as a whole and also, in the case of the me-
norahs because of the use of the term "113D ant , then the lamp-
stands would be expected to be quite different from the taber-
nacle example, which demonstrates a more southerly influence
(see below, p. 39).
The Chronicler seems to have realized the discrepancy be-
tween the lampstand of God's dwelling in the wilderness and
those of his Jerusalem abode. In 2 Chr 4:7 and 20, he properly
36

reports the construction of the ten Solomonic menorahs. How-

ever, in 2 Chr 13:11, Abijah, in describing the priestly ser-
vice, clearly refers to the single lampstand of the tabernacle:
"(the priests) care for the golden lampstand that its lamps may
burn every evening." The Pentateuchal tradition is evidently
very strong. This discrepancy between the ten lampstands of
the temple and the single lampstand of the tabernacle was also
of concern to the rabbis, who try to reconcile the two tradi-
tions by placing the Mosaic menorah in the middle: "You must
therefore say that [candlestick] of Moses stood in the middle
with five [candlesticks] to the right of it and five to the
'u ..US
n
left of* it."

B. Second Temple
119
The identification of the menorah of the Second Temple
is infinitely more complicated, perhaps because so many more
scattered and often opposing bits of literary information ex-
ist. In addition, there are extant pictorial representations,
which often contain contradictory evidence, from the end of the
Second Temple period. There is no text which asserts directly
that the Second Temple possessed a single menorah among its
furnishings from the outset. However, indirect references,
170
such as that found in Ben Sira, HTip >V "PHD 13, as
well as the Zechariah vision of a sole lampstand, indicate the
existence of a single menorah within that edifice. Yet, there
is no assurance that the same lampstand continued to be used
throughout the duration of the Second Temple. The repeated
plunderings by the Greeks and the repeated renewals and refur-
bishings by the Hasmoneans and by Herod certainly resulted in
the loss and replacement of the menorah on a number of occa-
121
sions.
The existence of more than one rendition of the lampstand
during the Second Temple period may indeed be the cause of the
bewildering array of artistic representations, ranging from the
highly detailed to the starkly stylized. It is the matter of
the base which has received most attention. The Arch of Titus,
supposedly an eye-witness reproduction, features a thick shaft
upon a stepped pedestal, whereas the preponderance of
 37

subsequent renditions feature three-legged supports in tri-

122
podal or tridentate arrangement.
While the problem of the appearance of the lampstand in
the Second Temple and in its later reproductions is beyond our
scope, the matter of some of the literary references to it from
the post-destruction period are of interest. In particular,
Josephus 1 description of the menorah (ostensibly the Mosaic
one, but undoubtedly the Second Temple example to which he was
witness) needs to be examined:
Facing the table, near the south wall, stood a
candelabrum of cast gold, hollow, and of the weight of
a hundred minae....It was made up of globules and
lilies, pomegranates and little bowls, numbering
seventy in all; of these it was composed from its
single base right up to the top....It terminated in
seven branches, regularly disposed in a row. Each
branch bore one lamp.-'-2''

The menorah he is describing differs in several respects from

the Exodus version. It is made of cast gold as opposed to ham-
mered work. The three-part decoration of the tabernacle stand
(Vm plus Tin S3 and m s ) becomes a four-part arrangement:
TlflEO and m s remain (as ocpaupia and xpuva) ; but "bowls" become
"little bowls" (KpaTnpi.6ioi.s) and are paired with "pomegran-
ates" (f>oiaxoiQ) . Clearly the architectonic elements presented
in Exodus have not been properly understood, or at least have
been freely interpreted, in the construction of this lamp-
4- ^ 124
stand.
Furthermore, it presumes certain features, such as the
uniform height of the branches and the disposition of the
lamps, which the biblical account does not specify; and it men-
tions seven branches, which is contrary to the Pentateuchal de-
scription of a central stand plus six branches. This last item
may seem to be merely a semantic nicety. Yet to speak of a
seven-branched menorah in contradistinction to a (central)
lampstand that has six branches reflects quite a different ar-
rangement. Only in the matter of a single as opposed to a
three-footed base does Josephus' description seem to accord
with the Pentateuch. But even in this aspect, Josephus uses
the word ESooecos for base and in so doing implies a distinct
base and hence a different appearance from the "thickened stem"
38

of the Exodus account. In short, whichever Second Temple men-

orah Josephus is referring to, it can hardly be identified with
that which is delineated in the tabernacle texts.
One further literary source from the post-biblical period
is relevant. Of all the various talmudic discussions of as-
pects of the menorah's fabrication and history, one passage is
remarkable in that it seems to preserve some very old material.
Within a discussion of the size and number of elements compris-
ing the lampstand appears the following description of the
"cups, knops, and flowers":

a^Tnoa'?« m o i n -pon • p n n -¡n Qiyaai

oiT)-on "»men ' p M T>Dn in a i n n so
.•pnDyn i m s '¡idd • p c m '¡n aims

The cups were like Alexandrian goblets; the

knops like Cretan apples, and the flowers like the
blossoms around the capitals of columns.125

The "¡lyaD are associated with Alexandria and thus given

an Egyptian connection reminiscent of the purported origin of
biblical V 3 3 . The rendition of biblical TinBD by imBn
Diin-Dn is most interesting in indicating what the Syriac and
Aramaic versions translate "apples" as well as bringing in the
biblical name for Crete, "Caphtor," which happens to be the same
word as this feature of the menorah. Finally, }i"T"lDyn in"lS
preserves the architectural flavor of the elements which com-
prise the decoration of the lampstand. Yet, while some ancient
material is reflected in this passage, the very fact of the
separation of n n E D from m s in this text indicates a concep-
tion of the artifact which does not coincide with the priestly
description in which the two terms stand together as a hendi-
adys. In general, the separate treatment of the components of
the menorah in the Talmudic discussions tends to give them the
quality of decorative elements in a way that is not consonant
with the architectonic tone set by the tabernacle texts.

III. Conclusions

Our discussion of the terminology involved in the presen-

tation of the menorah in the tabernacle account has shown a
technical precision which is striking throughout. If anywhere
 39

the language employed in the instructions for its fabrication

seems imprecise or vague, we are only to presume that we do not
yet have enough information about ancient technology to compre-
hend it. Surely those involved in preparing the ancient trans-
lations of the Hebrew text were faced with much the same diffi-
culties, and the varied and inconsistent language of the ver-
sions reflects the problems of dealing with a technologically-
oriented document. Yet in juxtaposing our analysis of the
terminology with a consideration of procedures for the recovery
of metal and of processes for its usage in architectonic design
and embellishment, we have seen that at least some of the terms
which have previously seemed obscure can be viewed with greater
understanding. This will become even more apparent when the
relevant archaeological materials are introduced below.
The matter of vocabulary choice has revealed some trends.
Most of the words are common enough Hebrew words, although one
word is perhaps Egyptian, and H3p stands contextually and bo-
tanically in close relationship to Egypt. Also, the theoreti-
cal use of acacia wood indicates a leaning toward the desert
areas to the south and southwest of Palestine. In addition,
with respect to technological influences, it would seem that
the highly-developed Egyptian procedures are the frame of ref-
erence for the Hebrew craftsman. Moreover, in the area of ar-
tistic expression as evidenced in the leanings towards vegetal
terms (mp, •->7ptBD, m n s a ?, m s ) trademarks of Egyptian art
can be discerned. The very combination "Hnsm rns may be de-
126
rived from an Egyptian development in columnation.
In short, our analysis of the biblical sources for the
tabernacle menorah—that is, the priestly portions of the
Pentateuch—has indicated that this artifact is firmly grounded
in ancient artistic and technological traditions. In this way,
its authenticity as a cult object becomes affirmed even though
its appearance may not be recoverable given our present limited
knowledge of the procedures and shapes reflected by the text.
Furthermore, our inquiry into the nature of the menorah in
biblical and post-biblical texts dealing with the sanctuaries
in Jerusalem has shown that the tabernacle menorah is to be
considered a discrete object which cannot be equated with those
40

depicted as existing in either the First or the Second Temple.

Points of contact among these artifacts cannot be denied; and
we shall return to the significance of the connecting relation-
ships in our concluding chapter. However, it is evident that
the objects called menorahs which stood in Solomon's Temple as
well as the one which Zechariah envisioned and the series which
were introduced into the Second Temple cannot be identified
with the one which appears in the tabernacle texts despite the
attempts of some of the ancient writers to reconcile the infor-
mation which was available to them.
 EXCURSUS

SOME DETAILS OF ANCIENT GOLD TECHNOLOGY

Most of our knowledge of gold working in antiquity comes

from Egypt and with good reason. The source of gold in the an-
cient Near East was, almost without exception, Egypt. In fact,
the mining of gold was so extensive in Egypt as to constitute
127
almost a monopoly of its production in ancient times. Nubia
alone, which means "land of gold," possesses the remains of 12 8
over 100 gold mines or areas that were worked in antiquity.
In the Amarna letters, the phrase "gold in thy land is (as)
dust" or "gold is as plentiful/abundant 129
as dust" occurs repeat-
edly, referring to the wealth of Egypt. It is also to be
noted that the mining of gold was a state enterprise in Egypt
and not a private affair. Thus artisans who specialized in
gold work could do so in only two ways, either by purchasing
their materials from the state or by working in the temples un-
, ... . . 130
der priestly supervision.
The ability of a goldsmith to obtain or produce "pure"
gold is somewhat complicated. Certainly the ability to purify
and refine gold does not go back to the earliest history of the
metallurgy of that commodity. Gold in its natural state con-
tains impurities which were manifested in ancient gold by its
various colors, ranging from bright yellow through dull yellow,
green, and various shades of red and reddish-brown to dull
131
purple and rose-pink. Experts in ancient metallurgy are not
in full accord as to when the ability to refine gold first ap-
peared. Some say that by the Amarna period
132 gold purification
and refinement were carried out in Egypt. However, ¡judging
from the results of analysis of Egyptian gold objects, it is
doubtful that gold could have been chemically refined on any
meaningful scale until the Persian period, or during the 5th
century B.C.E. 1 3 3
Still, various ancient texts, such as the Amarna letters
and the Harris papyrus and other Twentieth Dynasty texts as
well as the Bible do give the impression that various grades of
gold did exist. These can best be understood as referring to

41
42

various grades of natural gold rather than to gold that has in

134
any way been refined. Thus "pure" gold could conceivably be
that which contained the fewest traces of other metals. As it
happens, Egypt has many sources of relatively pure natural gold
in which silver may be the only impurity and even then in small
amounts; gold of glittering yellow color, easily separated from
its matrix, was in relatively plentiful supply.
A glance at ancient techniques of gold recovery can be
helpful here. Gold is found in nature in one or two forms,
either as alluvial, or placer gold, derived from the breaking
down of gold-bearing rocks and the washing of such debris into
watercourses (often dry), or as gold ore occurring as irregular
masses in veins in quartz rock.^® Both Egyptian and Akkadian
seem to preserve words which denote these alternate sources of
the precious metal. 137
Furthermore, in Egyptian there is frequent mention of the
138
washing of both gold and silver. This possibly can refer to
139
the recovery of alluvial gold by one of the two methods in
use before Roman times, both of which rely on the high density
of gold which enables it to be separated from its matrix by
rinsing it with water. The first method is known as panning or
pan-washing and consists simply of agitating the auriferous al-
luvium in a pan or trough until the rocky material floats off
and the gold particles collect on the bottom as gold dust or
nuggets. The second process is called placer mining. The sand
or gravel containing the gold is allowed to stream through
sluices with transverse ridges or riffles along the bottom.
When water is allowed to stream through the sluice, which may
even be covered with fat or with the fatty skins of certain
animals (cf. the Golden Fleece) which help retain the parti-
cles, the gold collects in the crevices between the riffles.
It is also possible that the references to gold washing in
ancient literature convey a feature of the process necessary
for the extraction of reef gold from its ore. This process in-
volved the cracking and breaking of the quartz rock by means of
fire and then hammers; next the broken rock was crushed in mor-
tars and then pulverized in hand mills; finally, the powdered
ore was tediously washed on a sloping surface or table to
 43

141
separate the metal. This procedure in essence achieves in a
short period of time what is accomplished in nature over long
epochs in the form of placer gold. However, most of the gold
used throughout the ancient world seems to have been placer
141
gold. This was the case for Mesopotamia as well as for Egypt
and seems quite logical insofar as alluvial gold was plentiful
enough in nature and infinitely simpler and cheaper to recover
than reef gold. Therefore, ancient references to washed gold
more than likely indicate the removal by water of sand and
gravel from alluvial materials rather than the equivalent pro-
cess at the terminus of the reef mining procedure.
 NOTES

CHAPTER II

See, e.g., the accounts of 1 Mac 1:21-22 and of Josephus

(Jewish War VII: 148-9) concerning the lootings of the Temple
by Antiochus and Titus respectively. In addition to textual
references, there are also some early (pre-70 C.E.) representa-
tions of the menorah, as in the coinage of Antigonus, last of
the Hasmonean kings; see Ya'akov Meshorer, Jewish Coins of the
Second Temple Period (trans. I. H. Levine), Tel Aviv: Am Has-
sofer, 1962, PI. V: nos. 36, 36A, and pp. 61-62. A discussion
of these early representations can be found in Daniel Sperber,
"History of the Menorah," JJS 16 (1965), pp. 140ff.
2
The use and symbolism of the menorah in the Greco-Roman
period is discussed at great length in JSGRP IV: 77-92, and
XII: 79-83. Its appearance after the seventh century, chiefly
in manuscript illumination, is examined by Zofja Ameisenowa,
"The Tree of Life in Jewish Iconography" (trans. W. F. Main-
land), JWT II (1938), pp. 326-45. Since 1948, it has been
adopted on the coat-of-arms of the State of Israel.
3
Menahot 23b, Abodah Zarah 43a, and Rosh Hashonah 24a,b.
These sources merely may refer to its actual reproduction as a
cult object and not to its representational usages. However,
the not infrequent use of non-seven-branched forms seems to
indicate that at least part of the population understood this
injunction in its wider sense.
4
Exod 25:31-40 and 37:17-24.
5
Exod 25:37; 26:35; 40:4, 24; Num 8:2-3.
6
Exod 30:27; 40:9.
7
Exod 35:14; 39:27; 40:25; Lev 24:1-4.
8
Num 3:31; 4:9.
9
In antiquity, Josephus attributed astral significance to
it (Ant. Ill: 146); so did Philo (Quest. Ev. II: 73, 74, 75,
80, 81). Modern scholarly discussions are legion, e.g., JSGRP,
ad loo.-, W. Wirgin, "The Menorah as Symbol of Judaism," IEJ 12
(1962), pp. 140-41; L. Yarden, The Tree of Light, Ithaca, New
York: Cornell University Press, 1971.

^ N o t e Goff's warning, Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia,

p. xxxvi: "The greatest circumspection should be used in draw-
ing inferences about early periods from knowledge about later
periods. The primary source of information about a culture
comes from the material produced by that culture."

^ W e assume, for the moment, that the tabernacle tradi-

tions are not wholly a reflection of Second Temple practices.

45
46

This will be discussed below in our conclusions to this chapter

and again in our concluding chapter.
12
So D. W. Gooding, The Account of the Tabernacle , Cam-
bridge: University Press, 1959, p. 8. Gooding's work deals
specifically with the textual problems of the Greek of Exodus.
^ S e e the example in ibid., pp. 9-10.
14
One other biblical word may indicate "lampstand" and
that is Kntfl-D:J (Dan 5:5), which corresponds to Mishnaic Hebrew
n W D } . The origin of this word is somewhat obscure; see the
linguistic discussion by Montgomery in Daniel (ICC), Edinburgh:
T. & T. Clark, 1927, p. 255, and, more recently, Franz Rosen-
thal, A Grammar of Biblical Aramaic (Porta Linguarum Oriental-
ium, V), Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1963, p. 59. Rosenthal
tentatively suggests an eastern origin through a Persian word
meaning "to shine."
"'""'So R. H. Smith, "Household Lamps of Palestine in Old
Testament Times," BA 27 (1964), p. 3.
1 6 s . A. Cook, "Lamp, Lantern," EB III: 2 7 0 6 , n. 1 , refers
to an inscription reported in Joseph Halevy, Rapport sur une
Mission Archéologique dans le Yemen ( 1 8 7 2 ) , p. 353. The trans-
lation "torch" is that of Hômmel in S'ùd-arabische Chrestoma-
thie, p. 1 2 8 . Both this word and m i 3D are noun formations of
the same root; the D-prefix transforms the root into a noun in-
dicating the instrument or place implied in the action of the
verb. See Sabatino Moscati, Comparative Grammar of the Semitic
Languages, Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1 9 6 4 , pp. 8 0 - 8 1 .
17
See KB, p. 843.
18
See Immanuel Low, Die Flora der Juden, Wien: R. Lowit
Verlag, 1928, Vol. I, pt. 2, pp. 662-63, and Harold N. and Alma
L. Moldenke, Plants of the Bible, Waltham: Chronica Botanica
Company, 1952, pp. 50, 215. In the Bible, in addition to indi-
cating "reed," HJp also refers to a related plant, the "sweet
cane" or "calamus," so Moldenke, p. 40, and also to a sweet-
smelling cane, so Moldenke, p. 214. See Isa 43:24, Jer 6:20,
Ezek 27:19, Cant 4:14, Exod 30:23, and also Josh 16:8 and 19:
28.
19
Moldenke, p. 50.
20
Cf. R. B. Y. Scott, "Weights and Measures in the Bible,
BAR III: 348. This use is also indicated in Akkadian, AH II:
898, and in the Greek equivalent, LS, p. 645. Compare English
"rod."
21
See Isa 19:6.
n?
Ezek 29:6 and 7. When broken, the reed breaks into
thin, sharp slivers, which can be very dangerous. See Mol-
denke, p. 50.
 47

23
S e e Job 40:21, 1 Kgs 14:15, Ps 68:31, and Isa 35:7. One
further Egyptian setting is that of Gen 41:5 and 22, where PUP
is used in Joseph's dream in its generic sense, meaning "stalk"
rather than "reed."
24
Isa 42:3.
25
E x o d 25:33, m U D n 'pD D^KST! D^pPI ntatff> p , refers to
"menorah" in the latter sense, as the central portion of a
composite. Whenever 3HT m i 3D appears, the composite object
seems to be indicated. A similar conclusion regarding the use
of "menorah" in the Exodus texts to refer principally to the
central element has been reached by Rahel Hachlili and Rivka
Merhav in an unpublished article (Hebrew), "Menorath Hamishkan"
26
B H , note a-a to Exod 25:31 and 37:17.
27
Strangely, the Greek and Latin words for "]T> would seem
to be more appropriate translations of H3p. Greek wauAoc can
refer to the "stem of a plant" (LS, p. 931); Latin hastile
(Exod 25) refers to "shaft" or "piece of wood in the form of a
staff" (HLD, p. 842) , and stipes (Exod 37) is translated
"branch" or "trunk" [HLD, p. 1760).
po
E.g., Exod 32:37, Judg 3:16, Gen 32:26, etc.
29
For other examples of the transposition of anatomical
features to architectural t e r m i n o l o g y — t h e "vocabulary of the
c r a f t s " — s e e Baruch A. Levine, In the Presence of the Lord,
Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1974, p. 119, n. 3.
30
As in the side of the altar, 2 Kgs 16:14, Lev 1:11, or
the side of the tabernacle, Exod 40:22, 24.
^ T h e widely divergent types of bases depicted in the nu-
merous representations of the menorah in Roman-Byzantine times
in part reflect this difficulty. If there was no distinct base
in the original, perhaps the ancient artist or artisan, from
the 5th century onwards, felt free to depict it as he wished,
in accordance with the various kinds of bases that contemporary
metal stands might employ.
32
Ceramic stands in fact usually do not have functionally
or artistically distinct bases. See below. Chapter III, pp.
65, 68, 76, 80.
33
The characteristic thickened lower portions of ceramic
stands come to mind. See our fig. 1 and below, pp. 73-75.
34
Nowhere does the biblical tradition indicate where the
lamps were to be placed on the composite lampstand. However,
we can offer suggestions based on archaeological evidence; see
below, pp. 81-82. Apart from the functional nature of the or-
namentation with respect to lamps, Hachlili and Merhav have
pointed out, on the basis of some Urartu metallic stands, that
the "cup, knob, flower" element would be used to strengthen the
places where the metallic segments of which the branches might
be composed would be joined.
48

35
Ludwig Koehler, "Hebräische Egymologien, JBL 59 (1940),
p. 36; cf. Raymond 0. Faulkner, Concise Dictionary of Middle
Egyptian, Oxford: University Press, 1962, p. 278. A derivative
form, based on the same Egyptian word, is Hebrew meaning
"bud" or "pod" of the flax plant in Exod 9:31.
36
G e n 44:2, 12, 16.
37
Jer 35; see v. 5.
3 ft
So Koehler, p. 36.
39
LS, p. 977.
40
L S , p. 940.
41
LS, p. 991. It is to be noted that wine in antiquity
was generally cut with water before it was consumed; hence
there often existed special containers for the mixing of wine.
4
^Cyrus H. Gordon, Ugaritic Textbook (Analecta Orientalia,
38), Rome: Pontificium Biblicum Institutum, 1965, p. 247. See
also Phoenician qb', in A. M. Honeyman, "La troisième inscrip-
tion phénicienne de Larnaka (Chypre)," Le Muséon 51, pp. 285ff.
43
AH, Vol. II, p. 890.
44
For the text and translation, see Eberhard Schräder,
Cuneiform Inscriptions and the Old Testament (trans. Owen C.
Whitehouse), London: Williams and Norgate, 1885, p. 199, and
more recently Ernst Michel, "Die Assur-Texte Salmanassars III,"
Die Welt des Orients II (1955), pp. 140-45, and also ANET, p.
281.
45
For further comments on this lampstand, see below, pp.
70, 187.
46
Zech 4:2, 3. MT preserves , as if from >3; but cf.
Eccl 12:6 n m n See BDB, p. 165.
i7
CAD V: 128-129.
48
1 Kgs 7:41 = 2 Chr 4:12, 13. See the discussion in ARI,
p. 147, in H. G. May, "The Two Pillars before the Temple of
Solomon," BAS0R 88 (1942), pp. 23-25, and in Robert North,
"Zechariah's Seven-Spout Lampstand," Biblica 51 (1970), p. 184.
49
n"P>V and m T i n n n"?3; see BDB, p. 165.
50
T h e almond tree is botanically identified with "amygdal-
lus communis." See Low I: 142.
51
In Palestine it blooms already in January and February,
so Low I: 145.
cp
The rod of Aaron in Num 17:23 miraculously blossoms and
bears ripe almonds. Note also the portent of the ripe almond
tree in Jer 1:11.
 49

Moldenke, p. 36, notes that the glass or crystal drops

used by English lapidaries and craftsmen to ornament candle-
sticks are called "almonds."
54
Amos 9:1 and Zeph 2:14. RSV renders "capital" in both
these places.
55
Greek ocpaipajxi^p; Latin sphaerulas.
56
S e e Jastrow, p. 442 and BLS, p. 226.
57
CAD VI: 139-140.

59
G e o r g Hoffman, "Versuche zu Amos," ZAW 3 (1883), p. 124.
Hoffman speculates that m n B D can be identified with "pear" and
so can m r D , which is the biblical designation for the "capi-
tals" of the pillars Jachin and Boaz (see 1 Kings 7, 2 Kings
25, Jeremiah 52, and 2 Chronicles 4).

®^The linguistic interchange between bilabial consonants,

in this case m > p, is not impossible. See Moscati, pp. 25f.
61
S o BLS, p. 333. See CAD VIII: 122; the identification
of this word as "pear" or "pear tree" is based on the Arabic
kummatra.
62
Low III: 239. This probably refers to modern Egyptian
Arabic.
63
S o S. A. Cook, "Candlestick," EB I: 645.
64
So G. E. Post, "Lily," DB III: 122.

is tempting to see in '¡ti/iti/ a reflection of "six,"

referring to the six segments, whether they be erect, spread-
ing, fused, or recurved, which characterize the many varieties
of lilies. However, cf. Th. O. Lambdin, "Egyptian Loan-words
in the Old Testament," J AOS 73 (1953), p. 154; Lambdin proposes
that '¡tintif is derived from an Egyptian word, sSen in the Old and
Middle Kingdoms, sin from the Middle Kingdom onwards (one s
having been lost by haplology), which is a name for a flower,
probably the lily.

66
1 Kgs 7:26 and 2 Chr 4:5. DTD in this instance no doubt
belongs to the same architectonic realm as and V 2 3 .
67
1 Kgs 7:19, 22.
68
1 Kgs 7:49.
69
This possibility has been pointed out by Kurt Mohlen-
brink in "Der Leuchter in fiinften Nachtgesicht des Propheten
Sacharja," ZDP 52 (1929), pp. 281f. Mohlenbrink also suggests
that in the Zechariah passage is another pars pro toto
designation for an elaborate bowl construction of the Zechariah
lampstand.
50

The Masoretic text has the singular, n m s . Compare the

Samaritan, which has the plural (so BH, ad loo.), and LXX,
which reads npiva.
71
Z e c h 4:2. Cf. above, n. 34, and below, p. 72.
72
E.g., Exod 30:7-8, Num 8:2-3, and Lev 24:4.
73
Menahem Haran, "The Complex of Ritual Acts inside the
Tabernacle," SH 8 (Studies in the Bible), Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 1961, p. 277, n. 8.
74 .
See Menahem Haran, "The OHEL MO ED in the Pentateuch-
al Sources," JSS V (I960), pp. 50-65. Compare the tradition
of one lamp in the Shiloh sanctuary, 1 Sam 3:3. See also the
MT of Exod 25:37, which has a singular verb (-pKn) referring to
the illumination provided by the lamps (plural).

Exod 25:36; 37:22. These verses pick up the instruc-

tions set forth at the outset, Exod 25:31 and 37:17.
16
BDB, p. 372; KB, p. 347.
77
See Levine, In the Presence of the Lord, pp. 66-67, n. 35.
78
S e e CAD IV: 106.
79
For a discussion of this concept, see Jacob Neusner, The
Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism (Studies in Judaism in Late
Antiquity, I), Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1973, especially Chap. I
on "The Biblical Legacy." Neusner, p. 1, chooses to avoid the
term "ritual purity."
80
So Neusner, ibid.
o1
See, for example, Lev 13:6, 14:8-9, 22:6-7, etc.
82
A S Arabic thr (AEL Bk. I, pt. 5, pp. 1186-88) and also
{BUB, p. 372) Ethiopic, Sabaean, and Old South Arabic.
pT
On Exod 24:10, see below. Chap. VI, p. 173 and n. 37 and
also pp. 167-68. On Psalm 19, see Nahum Sarna, "Psalm XIX and
the Near Eastern Sun-God Literature," Papers, Fourth World Jeu-
ish Congress, 2 vols., Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Stud-
ies, 1967, Vol. I: 171-75.
84
T e x t 51:V:81, 96-97. See Gordon, p. 172. Gordon trans-
lates it "gems of lapis lazuli," p. 406.
85
T e x t 77:21-22. See ibid., pp. 183 and 406.
8
® T h e Ugaritic passage reads: "And build a house of silver
and gold/ a house of lapis gems" (or "shining lapis"). Cf. the
Sumerian hymn celebrating the construction of Enki's dwelling
of gold and uknu stone, Charles F. Jean, "La grande triade di-
vine," RHR 110 (1934), p. 135. For similar language in connec-
tion with other ancient shrines, see Michael A. Fishbane, "The
 51

Sacred Center: the Symbolic Structure of the Bible," Texts and

Responses (Glatzer festschrift), ed. Michael A. Fishbane and
Paul R. Flohr, Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1974, n. 27.
87
Especially in certain passages dealing with the menorah;
see below, pp. 167-68.
88 •
See Uri Würzburger, "Metals and Mining. In the Bible,"
EJ 11: 1428-34.
89
CAD VI: 246 lists no less than twenty-three adjectival
qualifications that express varieties of gold in terms of
color, appearance, purity, method of attainment. Egypt, as
one would expect, has an extensive vocabulary dealing with
gold; see the terminology presented by J. R. Harris, Lexico-
graphical Studies in Ancient Egyptian Minerals (Deutsche Aka-
demie der Wissenschaft zu Berlin, Nr 54) Berlin: Akademie-
Verlag, 1961, pp. 32-41. Forbes in SAT VIII: 167-168 presents
tables of terms for gold in Egyptian and Akkadian.
90
The Talmud (Yoma 45a) counts seven kinds of gold, but
its list is far from complete.
91
The precise identification of all these terms is a mat-
ter of scholarly interest but has yet to be achieved. See, for
example, some of the discussions of Ophir and Parvaiim: H.
Grelot, "Parvaim des chroniques de l'Apochryphe de la Genese,"
VT 11 (1961), pp. 37-38; Robert North, "Ophir/Parvaim and
Petra/Joktheel," Papers, Fourth World Jewish Congress, 2 vols.,
Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1967, Vol. I: 197-
202; and B. Maisler, "The Excavations at Tell Qasile: Prelimi-
nary R e p o r t — I l l , " IE J 1 (1950-51), pp. 209-10. Maisler re-
ports an ostracon in which "gold of Ophir" appears.
92
E . g . , tnntß nnt, mta nnt, i d d nrii, int m s y , and nnt
PPTD. Various words which seem to be synonyms for gold also
appear, namely, D!"D, TS, and y n n .
93
Compare "gold [is plentiful] as the dust of the earth"
in the Amarna letters, below, n. 129.
94
See KB, p. 724. The varied colors of impure gold are
transmitted in both Egyptian and Akkadian metallurgical vocabu-
laries. E.g., in Akkadian, hura?u is found together with words
for yellow-green {arqu) , red (huSSu, russu), white or light
(.pesü, pu$$u) , red-brown (samu), etc.
95
See above, n. 91.
96
S e e Isa 13:12, where it is parallel to Dro, Cant 5:11,
where it is an attribute of urn, and Prov 8:19, where it ap-
pears with y n n (= Akkadian huräsu) .
97
The word for gold in this instance is on-, which, though
found in Egypt from the Twentieth Dynasty on, is of unknown
origin (see Harris, pp. 37-38). Since in Egyptian it seems to
specify a type of gold brought from the south, the "probabili-
ties are that tne name came with the thing from some African
52

dialect," so Maximilian Ellenbogen, Foreign Words in the Old

Testament, London: Luzac & Company, Ltd., 1962, p. 95.
98
The word for refine is PPT, which seems to refer to the
refinement of metal in the technical sense, viz., the chemical
removal of impurities. It is interesting in view of Lucas'
suppositions, in Ancient Egyptian Materials and Industries,
London: Edward Arnold LTD, 1962 4 , about the 6th-5th century
date of the invention of gold-refining (see below, p. 41 and
nn. 132, 133) that the root PPT in the metallurgical sense does
not occur in any demonstrably older passages in the Bible. Its
derivation can be seen in an Akkadian word zaqu, meaning "to
blow" as of the wind (as opposed to zaqaqu, proposed by Marvin
Pope, Job [Anchor Bible, 15], Garden City, New York: Doubleday
S Company, Inc., 1965, p. 177, which does not mean wind, so CAD
XXI: 60). Evidently a strong air current was required in the
refining process; cf. Arabic ziqq, which is applied to the bel-
lows of a forge (Pope, p. 177).
99
See pp. 41-43.
0
"*" ®The Talmud (and Rashi) , obviously unsure of what to do
with the term, understood it as gold that had to be locked up
because of its great value or as gold that is so valuable that
all other metal shops are locked up when it is on sale; so Yoma
45a. Assyriologists are equally uncertain; it may refer to a
certain quality of gold (see AH II: 1003) or it may designate a
geographical origin (see Ellenbogen, p. 119) since gold is of-
ten named for its source (cf. in addition to ancient examples,
Rheingold, Klondike gold).
101
2 Chr 4:20, 22 = 1 Kgs 7:49, 50.
102
2 Chr 3:8 = 1 Kgs 6:20 (and 21).
103
1 Kgs 10:18 = 2 Chr 9:20. The only usage of 11)D out-
side the Kings-Chronicles passages dealing with the temple
adornment is the geological chapter of Job, where 1T3D stands
alone for 1130 1HT (Job 28:15).
104
2 Chr 9:17 = 1 Kgs 10:21.

^"^The craftsman who shaped the object in fact also may

have been the goldsmith who transformed the gold from its com-
mercial state (of ingots, dust, or nuggets) into an artistical-
ly workable form.

^ 0 6 Lucas, p. 231. Specimens of ancient sheet gold (foil)

have been measured from .17 mm. to .54 mm. in thickness; speci-
mens of ancient gold leaf range from .01 mm. to .001 mm. thick.
1 07
E.g., the ark of acacia wood, Exod 25:11, the table of
acacia wood, Exod 25:24, the pillars of acacia that support the
parohet, Exod 26:32, the incense altar of acacia wood, Exod
20:31
 53

108
See the analysis by H. J. Plenderleith, "Metals and
Metal Technique," Ur Excavations II. The Royal Cemetery (Text),
London and Philadelphia: British Museum and University Museum,
1934, p. 295, of the mode of construction of various objects
from Ur such as the famous goats and the gold heads of the
harps. In Mesopotamia, bitumen as well as wood was used for
such models.
109
The use of acacia wood for the model seems certain m
light of its use elsewhere in the tabernacle. It bears men-
tioning that acacia trees are trees of barren regions, able to
flourish where no other trees find subsistence. This wood is
very hard and durable, "splendid for and still highly valued in
cabinet-work," Moldenke, p. 24. Acacias in general are found
only in the Sinai and Negev regions except where they have
straggled up the Jordan Valley; they increase in abundance
south of the Dead Sea. It is decidedly not a tree of northern
Palestine or of the Syria-Lebanon hills. Contrast the use of
other woods (cedar, etc.) for construction in the Deuteronomic
books (except for Deut 10:3, which refers to the ark in the
wilderness), which have the hill country of Palestine as their
setting and which are more oriented northward. "Acacia" may
even be an Egyptian loanword; see Lambdin, p. 154.
110
E x o d 25:18; 37:7. The silver clarions of Num 10:2 are
also of "hammered work."
1:L1
Exod 25:29, 38 = Exod 37:16, 23.
112
Cf. Num 17:4; see also Exod 39:3, where the leaf is cut
into threadlike strips.
113
Note that the Phoenician word VP"lD signifies some sort
of metal vessel (Charles-F. Jean and Jacob Hoftijzer, Dic-
tionnaire des Inscriptions Sémitique de l'Ouest, Leiden: E. J.
Brill, 1965, p. 168). As a designation of a modeled form, as
such an object would have to be, it is an indication that the
root ypl refers to beaten-out metal in general, whether of a
thickness suitable for molding or for overlay.
114
See BDB, p. 904, and KB, p. 859. The ancient versions
are also not much help. E.g., the Vulgate's ductilia is more
akin to the process for obtaining gold leaf or wire (see HLD,
p. 616) ; and the LXX, while reflecting a utilization of sheet
gold, employs the word topeuti^, which signifies repousée rather
than molding (see LS, p. 1565).
115
S e e Jastrow I: 274, 676, and II: 143.

^ ® S e e especially the section in Chap. VI on the "subse-

quent history" of the menorah, pp. 185-88.
117
M . Haran, "Menorah," EJ 11: 1355, supposes that they
were. Sperber, p. 135, assumes that they were "more or less
identical in appearance to the Mosaic one."
54

118
Menahot 98b. Translation is that of the Soncino edi-
tion .
119
The fate of the Solomonic menorahs is unclear, but see
the theory of M. Haran, "The Disappearance of the Ark," IEJ 13
(1963), pp. 56-57. In any case, new appurtenances were re-
quired for the rebuilt sanctuary.
120
Sir 26:17, "Like a shining lamp on the holy lampstand/
so is a beautiful face on a stately figure" (RSV). Hebrew text
is that of M. Z. Segal, Sepher ben Sira Hashalem, Jerusalem:
Mosad Bialik, 1959.
121
The literature on this complicated problem for which
Josephus is the main source is extensive. See Sperber's nearly
year-by-year account of the Maccabean and Herodian periods, pp.
137-55; his references to the Talmudic sources as well as to
Josephus are very helpful.
122
Again, see Sperber, pp. 144-52, for a detailed discus-
sion of the Titus Arch menorah; he favors the authenticity of
that representation. Contrast Yarden, pp. 5, 7, 9-10, who im-
plies that the actual sanctuary menorah was not among the
treasures carried off to Rome. H. Strauss, "History and Form
of the Seven-Branched Candlestick of the Hasmonean Kings," JWCI
XXII (1959), pp. 6-16, argues that the three-legged base is the
most historical. See also, among many other studies, Walter
Eltester, "Der Siebenarmige Leuchter und der Titusbogen," in
Judentum, Urohristentum, Kirehe (Joachim Jeremias festschrift),
ed. W. Eltester, Berlin: Verlag Alfred Topelmann, 1960, pp.
62-76.
123
A n t . Ill: 144-46.
124
The entry of pomegranates into the array of menorah
traditions is very interesting. Note the presence of the pome-
granates in the complicated capitals surmounting Jachin and
Boaz, 1 Kgs 7:18, 20 and 2 Chr 3:16. Pomegranates were common
symbols of fertility in antiquity and appear frequently on an-
cient Jewish coins (so W. Wirgin, The History of Coins and Sym-
bols in Ancient Israel, New York: Exposition Press, 1958, p.
200). They also appear, alternating with flowers, on one of
the most famous renditions of the menorah from late antiquity,
viz., the stone menorah from Hammath Tiberias. See L. H. Vin-
cent, "Les Fouilles Juives d'el yammam, a Tib^riade," RB 31
(1922), p. 119 and PI. VI:3. This example, in that it contains
seven small hollows on top in which lamps could be set, gener-
ated much excitement, being the first if not the only function-
al menorah ever found. The existence of the pomegranates on
this artifact as well as in the Josephus description makes it
impossible to tell whether the numerous stylized circles on
other Roman-Byzantine representations are meant to indicate
"knobs" (globules) or pomegranates.
12 5
Menahot 28b; Soncino translation.

^^®This matter of the translation of vegetal elements into

structural forms is treated below, pp. 107-11.
 55

127
So R. J. Forbes, "Extracting, Smelting, and Alloying,"
in If I: 580. Forbes' conclusions are in the most part based
on actual analysis of ancient gold samples found throughout the
ancient Near East. Egypt was not only the main producer but
also the only ancient power ever to remain permanently in con-
trol of gold sources, so SAT VIII: 163.

129
E.g., Letters 16:14; 19:61; 27:106; 29:164. The basic
phrase, according to Knudtzon's transcription, is hura§e ki-i
e-be-ri; see J. A. Knudtzon, Die El-Amarna-Tafeln, 2 vols.,
Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs 1 sche Buchhandlung, 1915, Vol. I, ad
loo.
130
Forbes, HT I: 581. See also SAT VIII: 84. This was
not true of ordinary metal workers, whose status was no differ-
ent from that of other craftsmen. Only goldsmiths were organ-
ized under temple supervision.
131t ,,,
Lucas, p. 233.
132
H. Quiring, Gesahiahte des Gold (cited in Lucas, p.
229), argues that Egyptians could refine gold well before the
New Kingdom, as early as the Eleventh or Sixth Dynasties.
133
So Lucas, p. 229, and his Appendix, p. 490, which sum-
marizes his gold analyses. R. J. Forbes, perhaps the leading
expert in ancient technology, originally (1954) suggested an
early date in HT I: 582. However, in his later works, as SAT
VIII: 166, he concurs that refinement is a relatively late pro-
cedure. X-ray analysis has made possible the testing of museum
treasures without destroying them, as would be the case in
chemical analysis, and these treasures all seem to be gold al-
loys until the 6th century. As a matter of fact, the desira-
bility of purifying gold is questionable in that natural gold,
with impurities, is stronger, harder, and less apt to tear than
pure gold (ibid., p. 170). Moreover, gold is always workable
in its natural state; i.e., it occurs naturally in the metallic
state. While a few compounds of gold do exist, they play no
role in the production of gold. Unlike other metals such as
copper, which must be obtained by the smelting of ores, there
was no need for such treatment of gold {ibid., p. 155). Forbes
does contend (ibid., p. 170) that the refining process was
known prior to the Persian period but that the cupellation it
entailed was too difficult and too expensive for widespread
use. Nonetheless, it may have been used on a small scale for
assaying, and this would explain the early literary references
to the "testing" or "assaying" of gold in the Amarna letters.
Furthermore, it is possible that cupellation may have been
practiced for the removal of base impurities (such as lead or
tin or iron) but that the more complicated process for the re-
moval of the ever-present silver was not developed before the
6th century. For a description of these techniques, see ibid.,
pp. 172-77, and HT I: 581.
T 34
So Lucas, p. 229.
56

X35
Ibid., pp. 214, 233.

Lucas, p. 224.
137
In Akkadian, contrast huràsu sa abnisu, gold from stone
or ore (CAD I: 55), with hura§u la ma'i (Su), gold from water
(AH II: 664). In Egyptian, nbu n ma refers to alluvial gold
(Harris, p. 33) and nbw m km denotes gold obtained by mining
(ibid.).

139
S e e SAT VIII: 15.
1 4(1
Lucas, p. 228, and SAT VIII: 156. This Egyptian method
is known only from descriptions by the Greek historians.
141
In one of the richest collections of Mesopotamian fine
metalwork, that of the royal cemetery of Ur, all the gold is
apparently alluvial, so Plenderleith, p. 298. In SAT VIII:
156, Forbes says the same of Egyptian gold objects. Similar
source analyses of other collections of ancient gold, such as
from Anatolia or from Mari, do not seem to have been carried
out.
 CHAPTER III
ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOURCES

I. Introduction: the Matter of Function

In turning to the archaeological materials which may have

relevance for our comprehension of the tabernacle menorah, we
must emphasize at the outset that the very nature of this arti-
fact as a receptacle brings with it a certain amount of ambi-
guity of function. It is unquestionable that lamps supported
by lampstands nearly always constituted separate and removable
entities. The priestly passages are quite clear about this:
the fabrication of the lamps is prescribed separately from that
of the lampstand.^ It also seems certain from the Kings and
Chronicles passages that the lamps of the Solomonic lampstands
2
are objects in themselves, separate from their supports.
Furthermore, not only are the lamps (or lamp) distinct
from the lampstand upon which they are placed, it cannot even
be assumed that the lamps of the tabernacle were to be made of
gold. The utensils—"snuffers and trays"—are to be golden
(Exod 25:38), but it is nowhere directly stated that the lamps
also must be metallic. This fact is not to be taken lightly in
view of the demonstrated precision of the description of the
lampstand. In Exodus 25 the lampstand is described first; sub-
sidiary to it are a) its lamps (v. 37) and then b) its uten-
sils (v. 38). Only the latter are said to be of gold, like the
menorah itself. The parallel account of Exodus 37 seems to in-
dicate golden lamps. But vv. 23 and 24 are a somewhat condensed
version of vv. 37, 38, and 39 of the Exodus 25 text. Hence,
the utensils, which are of gold, are put immediately following
the lamps, giving the impression that the latter are also gold-
en. However, note that the subsequent verse (37:24) mentions
that the "lampstand and all its utensils" are to be of gold.
But the lamps are not to be included among the utensils.^
Wherever else in the priestly writings the "golden lampstand"
4
is specified, the lamps themselves are never so described. In
5
contrast, the Solomonic lamps are decidedly of gold.

57
58

This strong probability that the lamps were totally separ-

ate from the lampstand shows the necessity for considering the
lampstand by itself as an artifact. However, there is almost
no way to identify such an artifact archaeologically unless it
is found in direct association with a lamp. The fact is that a
class of artifacts exists which must be known simply as
"stands." They can be made of pottery, wood, stone, or metal.
And they can serve as a support for any sort of vessel, either
attached or detached, which contains a source of light and/or
heat and/or fragrance at a level above the ground. Being hol-
low, without the use of a vessel they can also be used as a
sort of vase.
In other words, insofar as a distinct vessel which could
contain oil or resinous wood or incense must be placed upon the
stand or incorporated into it, lampstands merge functionally
with other items known variously as thymiateria and cressets.'
It is even theoretically possible that one and the same stand
could, at successive intervals, serve as a support for lamps,
incense dishes, and fire pans as well as for libations or other
offerings. It is even feasible that the same surmounting ves-
sel could serve more than one of these purposes. The legisla-
tion in Exod 30:9 against just such a multiple usage certainly
indicates that at certain times a single appurtenance could in
o
fact perform varied functions. Actually, some of the uses to
which a stand is put may coincide; the burning coals of a
pitchy wood indeed would supply heat, light, and even fra-
grance. Because of this functional equivalency, similarity of
design and style as well as of basic form is to be expected
within a broad cultural tradition. The relationship of various
architectonic elements of the menorah with those of the pillars
Jachin and Boaz is a case in point.
In light of this functional fluidity of "stands," compara-
tive archaeology must be approached with an eye for the recog-
nition of form and design more so9 than for the identification
of objects of identical purpose. In so doing, several ele-
ments of the design of the tabernacle menorah which can now be
understood in light of the foregoing discussion of the descrip-
tions in Exodus must be kept in mind. One of course is the
 59

shape of the support, i.e., a thickened shaft with no distinct

base. Another is the quadruple floral capital-and-bowl motif
on the central stand, which must be seen as a discrete entity
while at the same time part of the composite form. Finally,
the branches of the structure must be sought.

II. Comparative Archaeology

A. Mesopotamian materials

Beginning our comparative survey with Mesopotamia is some-

what disappointing at first. Although Mesopotamia offers an
abundance of religious constructions, including elaborate tem-
ples, from the earliest history of its civilization, there is
no evidence of a lampstand of any kind in any cultic context.
From earliest times and lasting throughout, only two cultic
features stand out within the shrines of sanctuaries: the niche
for the god and the offering t a b l e . T o be sure, lampstands
per se really would not be expected before the Iron A g e . ^ In-
stead, torches or cressets undoubtedly provided illumination
12
for both domestic and cultic purposes. For ritual use, they
were hand held during at least part of the ceremonies. Even-
tually they would have had to be set down; surely domestic
torches would need to be supported somehow. Unfortunately, no
recognizable examples of such seem to have been retrieved ar-
chaeologically.
Therefore, while the ground-plan and architectural details
of numerous Mesopotamian sanctuaries can be recovered, informa-
tion concerning sacred objects must come from certain pictorial
representations, viz., the stone reliefs of the Sumerian and
Akkadian periods, the mural reliefs of the Assyrian period, and
13
especially glyptic art from all periods.
Already in the oldest Sumerian period there appears a sim-
ple stand, the basic form of which is to endure for the millen-
nia following. Two limestone plaques dating from ca. 3000
B.C.E. depict such an object. Both registers of one of these
plaques (fig. 2) from U r ^ with two rows of relief show the
pouring of libations into a stand which resembles nothing so
much as a high cylindrical vase which is constricted somewhat
in the middle sector, giving it the appearance of having a
60

flaring top as well as a flaring or thickened lower portion.

There is no distinct base and the whole object is at least 1 m.
high. The other plaque, from Tello, shows an almost identi-
cal stand, called a "vase altar," though probably only about
half as high, into which a naked priest is pouring water and
from which is "growing" a palm branch and two clusters of
dates.
Likewise, from the Old Akkadian period come representa-
tions of stands nearly identical to the Old Sumerian examples
just mentioned. A calcite lunar disc presents the daughter of
Sargon in the act of pouring a libation onto a simple stand,
called an "offering table" by the excavator, which seems to be
waist high although the bottom of the disc is mutilated and
the extent of the lower portion of the stand cannot be deter-
mined exactly.'''® Also from this period is the famous "Mother
Goose" limestone relief (fig. 3) from Nippur. The curious des-
ignation for this artifact derives from the fact that the
goddess (perhaps Nina) is seated on a "throne" which is really
a goose. She is lifting a ritual cup and in front of her is a
small stand which has been called variously an offering table,
18
a flaming brazier, or a vase with branches. Whatever its
function, there is no doubt that formally it belongs to our
class of simple stands, cylindrical in shape with a narrowed
waist.
From the neo-Suraerian period come two more examples which
offer for the first time the mere hint of decoration. On a
relief found in the temple of Ningirsu at Lagash from the time
of Gudea appears a scene (fig. 4) of a drink offering being
19
poured into a container (here called a pottery chalice ).
This container is a stand of 50-75 cm. in height with a tree
issuing forth while the liquid is being poured. The narrowest
part of its constricted center portion is adorned with a sim-
ple, somewhat bulging, ring or convex molding. This molding is 20
found again on a stele of Urnammu of the Third Dynasty of Ur.
Interestingly enough, two nearly identical "vase altars" are
depicted, both containing palm branches and date clusters; the
one on the right has a distinct central molding, whereas the
one on the left seems to have none. The appearance of fruit
and branches (fig. 5) is typical of this period.
 61

In summing up what can be learned from the iconography of

the Sumerian and Old Babylonian periods, we must draw attention
to the very useful work of Kurt Galling, Der Altar in den Kul-
21
turen dee Alten Orients. In a very systematic way, he has
collected all the representations of all types of altars known
to him. This work remains useful today in that a good portion
of the monumental buildings from both Egypt and Mesopotamia
which contained reliefs already had been discovered; and also a
sizeable and representative portion of the countless cylinder
seals from the ancient Near East had already been catalogued.
The subsequent development of careful stratigraphic excavation
has not produced in any great quantity, except perhaps for
Syria-Palestine, for which his work is somewhat sketchy, mater-
ials that would have been directly relevant to his scholarly
task.
In Galling's study of what he calls the Old Babylonian
(really Early Dynastic through neo-Sumerian) period, his typol-
ogy ranks the form we are considering—and which he calls in
this period "vase altar" (vasenaltar)—in
22 a class by itself on
formal grounds, regardless of function. This form, the high
cylindrical vase with narrowed central portion, is by far the
most prevalent cultic apparatus of this long era. It is not a
massive object but rather is slender and probably was hollow
throughout. No doubt the earliest examples were made of pot-
tery; later on metal was employed. Galling 1 s plate 7, #53, is
a catalogue of the variations of this type and shows quite
plainly the endurance of the basic simple form. Only the addi-
tion of the molding has allowed him to subdivide the type, ac-
cording to the location of the ring in relation to the center
of the object. He also recognizes that a variable function ac-
crues to this stand from the earliest times: it supports flow-
ering branches that are being watered; it is a receptacle for
libations even where branches are not present; it is also a
stand for certain bread or cake offerings.
The next group of representations of the tall slender
stand comes from the Assyrian period. Unfortunately, little is
available from the early Assyrian period, in which the emer-
gence of a distinct Assyrian art takes place. Perhaps one
62

example from the early period is a seal cylinder of red marmor

23
that probably dates from the time of Tukulti-Ninurta I. It
depicts (fig. 6) on the right, a ziggurat and on the left, an
attendant priest. Between these two representations are two
cultic accessories, an offering table on animal feet and a tall
stand, at least 1.50 m. high. The priest is engaged in placing
something (indeterminable) upon the stand. The stand is com-
pletely plain, with no molding where it is constricted. How-
ever, at the top it flares out in a way not ever seen in the
Sumerian group. This flare seems to constitute a bowl-shaped
container which, in this scene, seems to be of one piece with
the stand but which will, in later Assyrian times, have evolved
into a distinct unit.
This simple stand from Assur, along with the earlier Su-
merian examples, is a clear prototype of the somewhat more de-
veloped group of stands found commonly on the famous wall re-
liefs, as well as on the cylinder seals, of the Late Assyrian
period, mainly from the 9th-7th centuries. One porphyry seal
(fig. 7) from Assur is undated and in style is very close to
24
the one just described. The high stand has a flaring bowl on
the top. The outline is nearly the same as the earlier exam-
ple, except that now the bowl is clearly demarcated as a separ-
ate entity. The contexts of the bowl also seem clear—a
conically-shaped form represents burning incense. This conical
form becomes very characteristic of incense stands. In some
instances it represents the heaped-up coals, often flaming,
upon which incense (probably in the form of pellets) was
placed; or it represents a conically-shaped lid, often with
many small performations, which was placed over the burning
25
coals. Sometimes, in the more stylized examples, it con-
ceivably may represent either or both circumstances. In addi-
tion to the contents of the bowl, there appears a decorative
(or functional, as a handle?) addition of some sort of small
bar three quarters of the way up the shaft. It also might be
noted that above the flaming incense fire are seven stars; the
astral significance of the flames is thus evident.
Two clearly 9th century examples of shoulder-high stands,
both in association with offering tables, show two parallel
 63

developments from the basic form. One (fig. 8), from the time
of Shalmaneser III, depicts a tall, slender stand; a molding at
the top supports a stylized dish surmounted by a stylized
cone.^ The other (fig. 9) from an obelisk of Assurnasirpal
II, features a shoulder-high stand in somewhat more realistic
27
fashion. A ledge or bar protrudes from the top (again, a
handle?); a shallow basin rests on the stand; and flames issue
forth from a bed of coals.
From 8th century Assur come two ceramic buckets with han-
dles. These may even be containers in which incense offerings
were carried. They are decorated with well-preserved colored
28
enameled paintings. The more intact of the two paintings
shows a tall, simple, shoulder-high stand (fig. 10) in conjunc-
tion with an offering table, two kneeling supplicants, and a
priest. The priest is holding a bucket akin to the one upon
which the painting occurs and is adding something to the
"fire." Atop the stand is a large bowl with a seven-pointed
flame rising from it. Part-way down the shaft is a triple
rounded molding. The stand itself is painted white, undoubted-
ly representing silver, and the flames are gold-colored.
The other bucket shows a similar scene except for the fact
that the stand is somewhat smaller and that the triple molding
has merged into an indented bulbous shape. The painting is
broken at the point where the flames emerge; only two points
are discernible but no doubt seven existed originally, judging
from the amount of room remaining and from analogy with the
other painting. Andrae points out that both these metal stands
go back to the archaic slender pottery stand.
Finally, in the 7th century appears an example of the more
stylized shoulder-high incense stand, with a bowl on top sur-
29
mounted by a cone, and also two very interesting stands, sup-
posedly secular, on a bas-relief from Nineveh.^® The latter
relief shows a richly decorated garden scene of Assurbanipal
and his consort drinking wine. Two smallish (knee-high) stands
(fig. 11) are shown, executed in an architectonic style quite
different from that of the typical tall stand. The shaft seems
to be fluted; and two convex rings near the top have taken the
form of successive capitals with inverted leaf decoration.
64

Surmounting this stand is a bowl not unlike those found on the

more usual stands. A conical shape emerging from the bowl com-
pletes the picture. There seems to be a foreign artistic in-
fluence at work here, perhaps from the western Aegean-Phoeni-
cian-Egyptian sphere, which will more fully be dealt with be-
low.
In connection with the conical shape surmounting many
Assyrian stands, it might be noted that the stylized form ap-
pearing on some cylinders as a slender shaft, narrower at the
top and with some sort of ledge or bar, occasionally turned
down on each side into an almost Ionic form, and having a cone
resting upon it, may not be the spear point, symbol of Marduk,
31
that it has been supposed to be. Because the slender shaft
is not of uniform thickness through its length, as a spear
shaft would certainly be, and because the conical shape on top
is much more related to the lids of incense stands than to
known weaponry of the period, these "symbols" might better be
interpreted as auxiliary incense stands.

Summary
The Mesopotamian materials from the end of the second
millennium and the beginning of the first appear schematically
32
in Galling. He has confused the issue somewhat by referring
to the tall slender object as "incense altar" and no longer
"vase altar," which is more of a description of form than of
function. As a matter of fact, he calls it a "candelabraform"
(kandelaberformig) incense altar, though he does not establish
the basis for such a denotation.
In any case, like the vase altar of early times, this high
stand is the most common form of Assyrian offering table. A
proportionately small round bowl rests upon a long, plain
columnar shaft which flares at the bottom. The only decora-
tion, not present in all cases, is a bulging ring or rings,
giving the appearance of a capital, at the point where the
shaft narrows. The stand must be made of metal, or perhaps of
pottery, though the latter would be less likely for special
royal or cultic use. It certainly would have been too slender
to have been carved from stone. The basin nearly always
 65

contains fire, presumably for the incense, which is represented

either by a stylized conical shape, perhaps a lid, or by a pyr-
amid of fire, often with individual flames—frequently number-
ing seven—darting out.
This cursory survey of cultic stands from the Mesopotamian
provenance has revealed that a basic form was established in
the Early Dynastic period and continued relatively unchanged
far into the 1st millennium. The shaft itself retains the same
shape throughout. A separate receptacle placed on the stand
does not appear in the early periods but becomes common by the
1st millennium. Decoration remains simple throughout and con-
sists, if it appears at all, of a curved ring or series of
rings at the constricted portion of the shaft. Finally, the
particular function of the stand is determined, whatever the
period, by that which is depicted atop the stand. Palm
branches are common in the early periods; conical fires, often
with seven flames, are common in later times.

B. Egyptian data

In turning to Egyptian archaeological sources, we face

much the same difficulty as in dealing with those at the other
end of the Fertile Crescent. Whereas our knowledge of Egyptian
religion is very extensive, especially in terms of sacred ar-
chitecture, certain types of funerary procedures, and iconog-
raphy, our knowledge of the specifics of the ritual is rather
incomplete. Unfortunately, despite the remarkable preservation
of stone buildings, there is a marked paucity of cult objects
33
to go with them. Thus our knowledge of the cult must derive
from wall paintings and reliefs in addition to what little in-
formation can be gleaned from texts.
As in Mesopotamia, lamps cannot be expected until late in
Egyptian history. Indeed, there seems to be no conclusive evi-
dence for the use of lamps in Egypt in dynastic times. Stone
lamps may have been used, but
34no ordinary clay lamps or pic-
tures of them seem to exist. Instead, torches seem to have
been commonly used as a source of light. Thus there can be
no possibility for discerning a lampstand per se. Yet, if
"stand" be considered in its generic sense, regardless of the
66

specific function it serves, Egyptian examples are hardly lack-

ing. While the columnar stand is not so prevalent as in Meso-
potamia—for in Egypt the copiously-supplied offering table
seems to predominate—it is certainly possible to identify a
class of objects which serve as stands for various purposes.
Already in the Archaic Period and the Old Kingdom there
appears a type of object that takes the place of the four-
legged offering table. This type consists of a slender stand,
very simple, with a somewhat flared lower portion. Some of the
examples (fig. 12) become progressively narrower towards the
top,^® and others are constricted in the center portion.^
Among the latter variation is a lovely stand (fig. 13) from the
Fourth Dynasty depicted on the slab stele of Wepemnofret; it
38
has a convex molding or ring in the center portion. All of
the early examples are low stands, placed before a seated fig-
ure. They all contain loaves of bread from as few as six up to
as many as about sixteen. These loaves are typically placed
upon a perfectly flat, round platter which the stand supports.
Only in one instance (fig. 14) among those we have examined,
the bowl-shaped platter resting on a stand shown on the39primi-
tive niche-stone of Princess Sehefener of Dynasty Two, does
the platter vary from this form.
This basic form, remarkably similar to that found in the
Tigris-Euphrates area, continues throughout the First Inter-
mediate Period into the Middle Kingdom. In one notable example
from the First Intermediate Period, the slender stand flares at
the top, to form a sturdy
40 base for the offering platter, as
well as at the bottom. All the Middle Kingdom stands contin-
ue this tradition; however, there is a slight alteration of
function. The simple arrangement of a series of loaves of
bread is now replaced by
41 a wide assortment of food products
heaped upon the stand. In all cases, the stand remains low,
ca. .50 m., and is usually placed before a seated figure, the
deceased god-king, who is partaking of a funerary repast.
One exception to the typical form deserves notice. On a
pillar relief from Sesostris I's Twelfth Dynasty temple at Kar-
nak appears a scene of Sesostris presenting a votive gift to
the god Min. Beside him is a low stand (knee-high) in the form
 67

of a simple pillar with a campanaform capital (fig. 15). The

stand is used to support a flowering branch or standard. It is
interesting to find the stand employing this type of capital,
which is rarely if ever used structurally as a free-standing
architectural support until the New Kingdom, when it becomes
42
very popular. And of course the use of the stand to support
something besides the ubiquitous food offering is also notable.
In the New Kingdom there are several developments upon the
offering table theme which hitherto predominated. We still
find reliefs depicting the slender stand supporting a flat of-
fering platter, such as that4from
3 the temple of Ptah at Memphis
from the Nineteenth Dynasty. Even in this instance, a liba-
tion is being poured onto the low stand, and a hand-held censer
is in position above it. The appearance of a libation, or
poured-offering, in conjunction with the stand is indicative of
the more usual function served by these stands in New Kingdom
times.
When the stand no longer serves to support a large flat
platter, two minor changes take place in its basic form. For
one thing, when it does not need to be at an appropriate low
level to hold food for a seated figure, the New Kingdom stand
becomes noticeably taller. Some remain in the .50 m. range,
such as one (fig. 16) depicted on a stele of Amosis I, very
early in the Eighteenth Dynasty. 44 But more typical (fig. 17)
is the stand that reaches to thigh-high or chest-high dimen-
45
sions, in the 1 to 1.50 m. range. The second change is that
the upper portion of the stand, no longer lost under a large
platter, develops a more distinct and often bowl-shaped flare.
The beginning of this upper flare is often delineated with a
n convex ring.
small . 4 6
This taller stand serves not only as a receptacle for li-
bations but also often as a support for the actual jar contain-
ing the liquid offered. Ofttimes a lotus blossom or other
product of the fructifying liquid is draped over the top of the
stand. And in yet another variation (fig. 18) both a libation
47
jar and a flowering branch are placed upon the stand. None
of these stands seem to be used as incense stands. Yet it must
be noted that the burning of incense in hand-held censers is a
68

frequently associated occurrence in the total scenes in which

the stands appear. Many of these censers consist of long han-
dles ending in the representation of a human hand which grasps
an incense bowl. However, there are a few examples (fig. 19)
48
of hand-held censers in the shape of miniature stands.
Before concluding the discussion of the Egyptian mater-
ials, one somewhat different stand (fig. 20) belonging
49 to the
era of Tutankhamen must be described. The throne of this
ruler depicts the seated king being ministered unto by his
wife. Behind the Queen, in this richly designed scene, is a
stand which is rather ornate in comparison with the others un-
der consideration. The basic familiar form is that of a plain,
waist-high, truncated cone, supporting a platter which evident-
ly holds some sort of vessel from which the Consort is drawing
perfume to apply to Tutankhamen. But the stand is ornately
decorated with what seem to be two successive, downward-flaring
capitals.

Summary
Despite such (secular?) exceptions, the pattern in Egypt
is overwhelmingly that of a very simple, slender, and movable
stand, undoubtedly made of metal, though perhaps in some in-
stances of wood or pottery rather than of stone, and sometimes
decorated with a convex ring. This fundamental type continues
throughout ancient Egyptian history. Though our inquiry has
left off with the New Kingdom, similar evidence could be of-
fered for the subsequent periods, at least until the end of the
dynastic periods. Typological classification in terms of func-
tion is difficult insofar as a variety of rites are associated
with the same form. Bread offerings constitute the earliest
usages; but libations, all sorts of food offerings, incense of-
ferings in extended fashion, floral offerings, and even burnt
offerings50 are associated individually or in combination with
the same stand. Decoration, consisting of the addition of a
narrow convex band, remains minimal or non-existent. The size
shifts gradually into a taller stand as its early role as a
stand for a funerary meal table diminishes.
 69

C. Syro-Palestinian remains
In turning to the Syro-Palestinian area, the possibility
for dealing directly with artifactual objects rather than with
their monumental or glyptic representations becomes a reality.
However, even here, cultic objects that come directly from one
of the many excavated sanctuaries do not provide the informa-
tion we are seeking. Actually, despite the heavy concentration
of archaeological work in the Canaanite sphere, there have been
few cult objects found which can be understood with any confi-
dence.5 On the basis of archaeology alone, there is scant
possibility for recovery of Canaanite ritual practices. The
best example of this situation is the Late Bronze temple of
Hazor. Even more than the one at Lachish, this building is
considered by its excavator to contain "the most complete set
52
of ritual elements and furniture as yet found" in Palestine.
Because of its almost exact similarity to the contemporary
Syrian temple at Alalakh, this statement can be extended to the
Syrian area as well. But not only is there no identifiable
lampstand at Hazor, most of the existing objects hardly can be
understood.
Even when related ritual texts are available, it is still
not easy to identify and explain the archaeological realia.
The mid-2nd millennium cuneiform inventories of the treasures
of the temple of the moon goddess Nin-gal at Qatna, for exam-
ple, show that the temple boasted a wealth of appurtenances.
However, not only are they largely inexplicable from the texts
alone, the excavation of the temple53itself could not provide
artifacts to illuminate the texts.
Because of such circumstances, archaeological material
from purely cultic contexts can be of little help. Many of the
artifacts that will be considered do derive from clearly cultic
sources, from tombs as well as shrines; but others are undoubt-
edly from domestic areas. However, such "secular" material is
no less relevant for two reasons. First, domestic provenance
does not always indicate strictly secular usage; household
shrines or worship seem to have been part of the local reli-
gious pattern. Second, the appearance of many types of "ordi-
nary" household vessels in temples and tombs indicates that
70

there was often no clear-cut demarcation between cultic vessel

and domestic vessel. One and the same vessel could serve both
purposes at different moments. An ordinary lamp becomes "cul-
tic" when carried into an area used for ceremonial purposes.
This is not to deny, of course, that special cult objects, dif-
ferent in form if not in function from their mundane analogues,
54
could be designed and fabricated for strictly ritual usage.
Whether or not there could exist a class of cultic objects that
did not derive ultimately from domestic practice is a moot
point. In any case, it is not an effective disadvantage to be
dealing with objects from questionable contexts in contrast to
the unmistakable temple scenes on monuments and seals which
have provided the preceding materials.

Lamps
Although our primary concern is with stands rather than
lamps, some information about lamps must be inserted here inso-
far as the origin of the saucer lamp lies within the Syro-
Palestinian sphere. Lamps appear in Palestine at least from
the beginning of the 2nd millennium. Their basic shape, that
of a simple saucer with a narrow or pinched lip to hold the
wick, continued with few variations or modifications until late
in the first millennium. Even when the closed type of lamp was
known, ca. 500, it was several centuries more before it was
55
executed by native Palestinian potters.
Among the variations of the lamp was the occasional but
never prevalent practice of adding more than one wick, presum-
ably to increase the intensity of the light. The typical
multi-spouted lamp, found mainly in the Middle Bronze I and
II periods, has four spouts (fig. 21). One special variety of
the multi-spouted lamp is the seven-spouted saucer lamp, which
appears to be Syrian in origin, the earliest known example
coming from Ras Shamra."^ These lamps (fig. 22), which tend to
be found in cultic contexts, have been uncovered in Nahariyah,
58
Dan, Lachish, Taanach, Gezer, Megiddo, etc. Much has been
made, of course, of the possible relationship of this sort of
59
vessel to the lampstand of Zechariah.
One other, more radical and rarer variation of the basic
saucer lamp is the curious object known variously as the
 71

"cup-and-saucer" or "double-bowl" lamp, which consists of a

bowl containing a smaller cylindrical form of one piece with it
(fig. 23a and b). By virtue of its shape alone, the latter
designation seems more appropriate. However, that it is indeed
a lamp is not certain. As Ruth Amiran has noted, it is a type
that is "well-known but not fully understood."®" In addition
to "lamp," it has been identified by a wide assortment of des-
ignations, including "candlestick," flower vase liba-
tion cut,®^ stand for pointed-base juglets,®"* and incense burn-
ers or torch holders.®"' It has been found at various places in
Palestine from the end of the Late Bronze Age until its usage
dies out in the 6th century.®® It is also found in Egypt and
Crete in earlier periods and in later Greek, Hellenistic, and
Roman lamps with central wick tubes in later periods.® 7 It is
assumed to be of Egyptian origin though perhaps disseminated
from the Syrian coast.

Despite the various conjectures concerning the purpose

served by this object, the consensus seems to be that it is
some sort of lamp. The objection of some®® that there is no
trace of burning and therefore it cannot be a lamp does not
hold true for all examples.®® Furthermore, many of the un-
marred examples come from tombs. Since vessels that are placed
in tombs or foundation deposits are often characterized by the
fact of never having been utilized, the lack of evidence of
burning would not necessarily indicate that they were not ever
intended to be used as lamps.
If indeed they are to be considered lamps, why the pecu-
liar structure? One can only conjecture. All other lamps have
devices—pinched lips or spouts—which place the wick and hence
the flame on the edge of the lamp. It is conceivable that for
some special (cultic?) purposes it might be desirable to have
the flame issuing forth from the center of the lamp. The
double-bowl lamp would in fact achieve this.7® There is an in-
teresting representation on the south wall of the hypostyle
71
hall of Temple T (Temple of Taharqa) at Kawa which may demon-
strate such a desire for a central flame instead of the asym-
metrical appearance of a flame on one side. Four priests are
carrying lighted "braziers," which are actually double-bowl
72

lamps supported by hand-held stands (fig. 24). The flames leap

boldly up from the center of the inner bowl. What a different
impression would be created if the flames rose from the side of
a saucer lamp!
If we have dwelt at some length on the phenomenon of the
double-bowl lamp, it is because we are struck by two aspects of
its history which may be relevant to the history of the me-
norah. The first is that the shape, unlike that of the common
saucer lamp, is distinctly bowl-like. If this shape be consid-
ered in conjunction with the fact that the [ p y a i , "bowls," are
integral parts of the menorah, constituting the uppermost part
of both the central stand and the branches (and also being re-
peated below) , as well as with the fact that the m u of the
tabernacle menorah are, more so than those of Solomon's temple
or of Zechariah's vision, quite separate, the possibility—and
only t h a t — o f an UPform with attached double-bowl lamp(s) as
opposed to separate pottery lamps, emerges.
72
Indeed, if one lamp (or seven lamps) is to be lit "be-
fore the Lord," a central flame would seem appropriate. Note
that in the two passages mentioned above, p. 26, which refer to
a single lamp, the lamp seems to be in permanent position "be-
fore the Lord." Elsewhere, where seven lamps are unquestion-
ably prescribed, the terminology, such as P P ( E x o d 25:
37) and H T U D n ''J3 (Num 8:2, 3), seems to indicate a
concern for the direction in which the pinched lip or nozzle of
a separate lamp would be pointed.
The second aspect of the double-bowl lamp which should be
reiterated is its probable Egyptian origin. This is certainly
consonant with what already has been noted about the technical
and linguistic affinities of the Exodus description of the me-
norah. That Egypt does not seem to have possessed the oil lamp
until well into the Iron Age is not really a problem. It has
been suggested that bitumen may have been used, somewhat of a
luxury for everyday use but possible for ceremonial purposes.
If in fact this vessel was designed for a fuel other than oil,
its peculiar shape would seem less problematic.
 73

Stands

The evidence for actual stands from the Syro-Palestinian

area, while not extensive, allows for the possibility of a
single-unit stand with bowl attached. Ruth Amiran's tripartite
classification of what she calls "incense-burners" or "incense-
74
stands is helpful in this respect. The house-shaped stand,
an interesting form in itself,^ is of little concern here.
However, all remaining forms belong to the same basic type and
are separated by Amiran only on the basis of whether or not the
bowl-shaped container surmounting the stand is made of one
piece with the stand itself. Regardless of whether or not the
bowl is attached, this type of stand assumes a form early in
its history which persists with few modifications.
It appears as a defined form already in the Chalcolithic
period, the classic example being a somewhat crude, hand-
modeled stand from B e e r - S h e b a . I t continues through the
77
Bronze Age and into the Iron I period. No examples seem to
be forthcoming from later than Iron II; perhaps at that point 7 8
the tripodal metal stands found rarely in the earlier periods
begin to gain the currency they exhibit mainly after the 6th
century. 79
The stand is basically a high, cylindrical one, flaring
somewhat at the bottom and again at the top, where the flare
becomes a bowl-shaped receptacle (fig. 1). In many but cer-
tainly not all cases these cylindrical stands are fenestrated.
This feature may not be indigenous to the cylindrical form it-
self but rather may derive from the functional relationship
with the often elaborately-fenestrated, house-shaped type. In
terms of the typology of decoration, therefore, fenestration
should probably not be a consideration. The earliest examples
tend to be quite simple and unadorned. Occasionally two small,
80
almost vestigial knob handles appear. When decoration does
appear, mainly by
g n the end of the Late Bronze Age, it takes two
distinct forms. One is a ring or molding decoration, already
familiar to us from Egyptian and Mesopotamian counterparts.
The other is a motif of downward-curving leaf ornaments.
The excavations of Megiddo provide us with the best exam-
ples of both these features. In fact, they both appear on a
74

fine, red-washed stand (fig. 25) with a separate bowl that has
a funnel-shaped projection on the bottom to fit it into the top
82
of the stand. There are two narrow rings, just above the
central portion of the stand. Above the upper ring is a series
of conventionalized, down-turned leaves or petals called
"lotus-leaf decoration" by the excavator. This motif is re-
peated below the rim of the bowl. On a similar stand from
Taanach, the leaf motif is found around the bottom of the
bowl. 8 3
By far the most spectacular rendition of the two types of
decoration is found on the painted stand from Megiddo (fig. 826)
4
unearthed by G. Schumacher at the beginning of this century.
Unfortunately the lower part of the stand is missing. But the
upper portion of the stand exhibits two simple ring moldings.
Between them and below the lower one are two series of grace-
ful, downward-curving leaf ornaments, interpreted by May as
"adaptations of an Egyptian architectural detail taken from a
85
pillar or capital." Surmounting this decoration is an at-
tached wide bowl, also decorated with petal ornaments. Below
the lower petal decoration the stand is broken, and it is im-
possible to discern whether or not the ring and petal designs
would have been repeated further.
The possibility that this Megiddo stand was bedecked with
a series of three rather than two ring and leaf decorations is
raised by the existence of several such representations on
Phoenician seals or stelae. Most of the examples are not found
in Phoenicia proper, however, and hence will be considered be-
low with the Aegean material. Furthermore, because of several
Egyptianizing artistic tendencies associated with them, as on
the painted Megiddo stand, their provenance is properly outside
the Syro-Palestinian region. A case in point is the fragment
of a slab from the vicinity of Tyre, one of the few of this
type actually found in coastal Phoenicia.®® A flaring, pede-
stalled incense bowl surmounts a tall, slender stand decorated
near the top with a series of three inverted lilies (fig. 27).
The god seated before the stand wears a characteristic Egyptian
headdress.
That many of these pottery stands found throughout the
Syro-Palestinian area functioned as incense burners is
 75

unquestionable. However, it seems equally possible for several

reasons that at least some of the stands served as supports for
lamps. To begin with, there is at least one example (fig. 28),
87
again from Megiddo, of a double-bowl lamp attached to a tall
cylindrical pedestal with flaring bottom. In addition, an
Early Bronze II stand from
8 8 Beth Shan (fig. 29) which Amiran
calls an incense-burner has an attached bowl in quatrefoil
form. The bowl portion of the stand, with four projections
around the rim, bears a morphological similarity to certain
early four-spouted lamps and thus indicates that this particu-
lar object certainly could have been used as a lamp rather than
for incense. Hence, it equally could be called a pedestalled
lamp, a lamp of which the base has been extended in pedestal
89
form. As such, it bears a resemblance to a group of small,
cylindrical ceramic stands from "Iron Age deposits" of the
Bucheum in the Nile Delta in which the bowls built into the up-
per part of the stands are spouted, giving the distinct impres-
sion ofe lamps.
, 90
Furthermore, just as some bowls have basal projections
(fig. 30) so that they can be fitted into stands, there are
some lamps (fig. 31) with analogous projections for insertion
91
into stands. Thus stands found without attached bowls could
receive either lamps or bowls with such projections. Another
type of92evidence comes from a unique ceramic tomb group from
Gezer, in which a stand ending in an attached bowl contains
another bowl which in turn contains a saucer lamp (fig. 32).
This series of objects in close relationship in effect creates
a lampstand with a detached double-bowl lamp, of which the in-
ner bowl is itself detached. One final type of artifact is
also relevant here (fig. 33), to wit, the miniature (ca. 10 cm.
high) ceramic pedestals with slightly flared bottoms, the tops
of which
93 end in stubby prongs and in which nestle tiny, spouted
lamps.
All these examples tend to show that the distinction be-
tween stands used for incense and stands used for lamps is de-
cidedly blurred. No doubt there are stands with receptacles
designed for specifically one purpose. However, stands without
attached containers could be used for either purpose; there is
76

no typological differentiation. And even the bowls themselves,

albeit with no spouts, could be used either as incense burners
or lamps, in the latter case with wicks draped over the
94
edges. That Galling describes the cylindrical incense altars
from Syria-Palestine with the term "kandelaberformig" may have
more truth than irony to it (if we understand that candelabra
is used anachronistically).

Summary

This rather extensive treatment of Syro-Palestinian mater-

ials has produced information consistent with what has already
been learned from Egypt and Mesopotamia. A basic form, a
cylindrical shaft flaring somewhat at the bottom and again at
the top, either as an attached bowl or as a receptacle for
such, appears already in the Chalcolithic Period and continues
relatively unchanged at least until the end of the Iron age, in
the 6th century, when tripodal bronze or iron stands predomi-
nate. If these stands appear to be somewhat shorter, squatter,
and less graceful than their Mesopotamian or Egyptian counter-
parts, it must be remembered that all of them are made of pot-
tery, which would be less conducive to the construction of a
slender stand than would be a precious metal, which clearly
seems to be the material of many of the royal/cultic examples
depicted on the monuments of either end of the Fertile Cres-
cent.

In terms of ornamentation, the ring molding which is the

ubiquitous decoration elsewhere on ancient Near Eastern stands
appears also in Syria-Palestine. In addition, downward-turned
leaves (lotus or lily petals?), giving the impression of floral
capitals, occasionally appear. Such occurrence, however, is
infrequent and tends to be linked to archaeological contexts
under Aegeo-Egyptian influences.
Unlike seals and sculpture, which invariably convey at
least the general idea of the role intended for a particular
object, actual artifacts recovered through archaeological exca-
vation are not so readily identified with respect to function.
If any impression at all can be gained, it is the feeling that
the various objects described as stands cannot and should not
 77

always be assigned to a specific job. The functional fluidity

that we supposed above, p. 58, does in fact exist and prevents
exact identification except under special circumstances.

D. Aegean evidence

The appearance of certain elements in the Syro-Palestinian

area with relationships to the Aegeo-Egyptian world, such as
the double-bowl lamp and the downward-turned petal motif, indi-
cate that this comparative survey cannot be completed without
an inquiry into relevant material, if there be such, from the
Mediterranean island and coastal areas. At the outset it can
be noted that mainly Cyprus and Crete, in addition to certain
Punic settlements, have produced artifactual data which are
pertinent to our concerns. In other words, such information
exists only in those regions subject to direct exposure to
Egyptian and/or Semitic culture.
While excavations on Crete have produced lamps of various
sizes and types from the Minoan period, surely the "aristocrat"
of Minoan lamps is the tall stone stand with lamp often of one
95
piece with it. The earliest examples seem to come from the
Middle Minoan III period towards the beginning of the 2nd
quarter of the 2nd millennium. They continue through the Late
Minoan period, in the middle of the 2nd millennium, at least
until the destruction of Knossos.
From some basement rooms of the palace of Minos at Knossos
come a series of these stone lamps from the Middle Minoan III
period which the excavator supposes, though he does not say
why, were intended for ritual use. They could equally be
considered "secular." One of the finest examples (fig. 34) is
a purple gypsum stand with a fluted quatrefoil shaft, a capital
of sorts somewhere below the top of the shaft, and a foliated
rim on the bowl-shaped receptacle (with no spout or nozzle)
formed above the capital. The capital
97 itself is adorned with
stylized leaves or flower petals. A similar object (fig. 35)
98
comes from Palaikastro m the Cyclades. In this instance,
the "capital" appears as a bulge in the center or most con-
stricted portion of the shaft, which flares at both ends.
From the same group as the Knossos 99
example comes a
steatite stand with similar decoration. This stand is
78

interesting in that the shaft, like that in fig. 34, assumes a

quatrefoil form which passes upwards into the bowl, giving it a
shape that is strikingly reminiscent of the pottery stand from
Beth Shan described above, p. 75. In the Late Minoan I period,
the same type of stand is found, though the decoration has be-
come somewhat more conventionalized. Stands with quatrefoil
bowls and fluting as well as ones with round bowls and normally-
fluted shafts are represented.''''"'
Unfortunately, most of the occurrences cited are published
without scale; we can only guess that they appear to be around
.50 m. in height though some may be as high as a meter. There
can be no mistake, however, about the basic form, that of a
small column with a spreading lower portion but rarely a dis-
tinct base, a decorated or fluted shaft, and a distinct capi-
tal. The floral and leaf motifs appearing on the capital and/
or around the rim of the lamp bowl exhibit distinct Egyptian
influences."'"®"'' Evans goes even further and relates the quatre-
foil form specifically to the four-stemmed, bunched lotiform
102
column (fig. 55) of the Twelfth Dynasty.
Not until the 6th century in Cyprus do we find additional
pertinent artifactual material. This century marks the begin-
ning of a form of metal stand, either bronze or iron, widely
found in the Aegean area. Richter has usefully classified
these stands according to two t y p e s . H e r Type I (fig. 36)
is characterized by the appearance of one or 104
more--often
three—rows of lotus petals turned downward. The decorated
shaft is surmounted by three scrolled supports or prongs,
joined together by a ring which serves as a holder for a saucer
lamp.'''®"' This type typically does not have its own extended
shaft but rather is fitted, below the petals, with a tubular
socket for the insertion of a wooden shaft."''®® This type is
found mainly in Cyprus and shows
107 a noticeably oriental, speci-
fically Egyptian, influence.
Richter's Type II has a plain, unornamented shaft which
typically ends in a tripodal base consisting of three hoofed
feet. These are more widely found, occurring in Etruria (main-
ly as candlestands of the 6th century and later) and in the
Roman Empire (mainly preserved in a large group of over 100
 79

examples from Pompeii and Herculaneum as well as in Cyprus).

However, the Cypriote examples are distinct in often being sur-
108
mounted by a volute capital or Cypriote-Ionic form. Clear-
ly, Cyprus has its own artistic traditions in which Egypto-
Oriental influences are much stronger than in Aegean mainland
areas.
Turning from the excavated materials themselves to repre-
sentations on slabs, stelae, and seals, we find depicted a dis-
tinctive type of stand. A Tyrian example with three rows of
downward-curving petals has already been cited (fig. 27 and p.
74). A similar object (fig. 37), placed before a deity seated
upon a throne supported by a winged sphinx, is shown on a seal
that can be dated only roughly to somewhere between the 9th and
109
the 7th centuries. Three inverted lilies and three hori-
zontal ledges appear on the upper portion of a cylindrical
stand, flaring at the bottom and standing about a meter in
height. A fire flares forth from the uppermost ledge, which is
presumably an incense bowl. A winged disc appears above the
scene. Another seal (fig. 38) shows an almost identical object
before a standing god dressed in Egyptian style.''""'"'' In this
case the petal decorations have become completely stylized. No
demarcation of individual petals is discernible; the three rows
of petals appear as bulbous projections beginning at the point
towards the center of the stand where constriction is the
greatest. Above these projections are two ledges which have
merged, indicating a container for incense. Above this con-
tainer is a high conical shape, much like that found on Assyr-
ian seals. An astral symbol is in the field above. This seal
seems to be transitional to the next group of representations.
This somewhat later group, from the 4th-3rd centuries, ap-
pears on Punic stone sculptures. Two stelae from Carthage
(figs. 39 and 40) show tall, slender stands with flaring bot-
toms, almost identical except for the squaring-off of the
flared bottom on one of them. Both have three substantial
bulbous projections surmounted by footed or pedestalled bowls
with a flame issuing forth. And on the famous Lilybaeum lime-
stone votive tablet from Sicily (fig. 41) is carved a shoulder-
high stand with three very conventionalized projections above
80

which is a bowl-within-a-bowl and from which a stylized cone-

shaped fire or lid emerges.
The oldest of the representations of this type of stand
occur on seals of archaic style with obvious Egyptianizing ten-
dencies. The earliest of them also depict the characteristic
series of three projections in the unmistakable form of
downward-curved leaves or flowers, clearly surmounted by a bowl
which often has a high foot, giving it the appearance of a
chalice. In all cases the base is the by now familiar cylin-
drical shaft with flaring lower portion. The later depictions
are mostly incised reliefs. On them, the individual character
of the down-turned petals is lost. Perhaps because of the
flatness of such reliefs that sort of detail could not be pre-
sented so successfully as on seals, which are carved in low
relief. In any case, the floral motif is now stylized into a
series of three projections surmounted by a flaming bowl. It
is interesting to note that this convention passes directly to
113
Etruscan and Greek thymiateria.

Summary

From the Aegean area we have seen a variety of stands oc-

curing over an extended period of time, executed in stone and
in metal and carved on seals and slabs. Just as in the ancient
Near East itself, a basic form appears, be it used for incense
and/or light, and continues throughout. If the earliest Minoan
stands do not seem as slender as their Near Eastern counter-
parts, that is merely a function of their being executed in
stone. The cylindrically-shafted pedestal, from Minoan to Pun-
ic times, flares at the bottom and is decorated by a floral
capital or by a series of such "capitals" in petal form or as
stylized projections. It is precisely the earliest Phoenician
examples from the Aegean that bear the greatest Egyptian influ-
ence and that first contain the projections in series, usually
of three, with the surmounting bowl constituting a fourth pro-
jection. When this type of decoration is widely applied to
metal forms beginning in the 6th century, it is not the tri-
podal stand which commonly receives such a decoration but rath-
er the stand which consists of a wooden shaft surmounted by a
decorated metal support for a lamp.
 81

III. Conclusions

This extensive consideration of the archaeological sources

which bear upon an understanding of the menorah has made it
abundantly clear that the basic shape of a stand used for any
of a variety of purposes in the ancient Near East is one which
is quite consistent with the Exodus descriptions. The "thick-
ened stem" indicated by the biblical terminology can undoubted-
ly be understood as a reference to the flaring or thickened
lower portion of the stand. It is also obvious that none of
the ancient versions of the Hebrew Bible comprehended this.
Perhaps what has happened is that, with the widespread use of
base metal stands beginning in the 6th century, the old cylin-
drical stand executed generally in wood or pottery for secular
or local cultic use and in precious metals or fine stone for
royal or official-cult ceremonial purposes, passed out of us-
age. By the time of the Second Temple, therefore, this ancient
tradition had been superseded by the introduction of solid me-
tal stands with distinct and usually three-footed bases.

Furthermore, with respect to the stand, the impression

given by the text that m i J D denotes at least in some instances
only the central or main part of a composite, branched object
and not the object as a whole must be recalled. The validity
of this impression becomes apparent with the realization that
the Urform for any lampstand would indeed be a stand that is
simple in shape and outline, regardless of its decoration. The
projection of three branches from either side of the central
stand would be morphologically secondary, though no less impor-
tant, to the construction of the basic form.
The ambiguity of the texts in the matter of lamps is also
more comprehensible in the light of archaeological data. The
chief receptacle of the priestly stand and its branches is
clearly the V 2 3 , or bowl; the ~linS3 and m s elements are dis-
tinctly subsidiary. Throughout the ancient Near East, includ-
ing the Aegean, the uppermost feature of all types of stands is
bowl-shaped. Sometimes it is a separate object, detachable
from the supporting pedestal. Other times it is attached to
the stand itself, forming one continuous object, complete by
itself. In the latter case, the bowl is often still an
82

identifiable shape, as if it in fact could be removed. But

many times it merges totally into the stand. If the stand is
completely hollow, as may be suspected in the case of some of
the "Vasenaltare" from Early Mesopotamia, stand and receptacle
in fact become one and the same.
Insofar as the bowl on the central stand is analogous to
the bowl-shaped receptacles typically found on ancient stands,
including certain Palestinian pottery stands which supported
lamps, the possibility exists that the Urform of the menorah,
as a support for a light, did in fact have a single light
source upon the central stand. The single lamp tradition dis-
cernible in the biblical text indeed would reflect such a cir-
cumstance. On the other hand, the appearance of the seven-lamp
tradition is also consonant with our knowledge of certain
seven-spouted Palestinian lamps and perhaps also with the
seven-pointed flames of Assyrian incense stands. Yet even in
this case, all the lamps would be associated with the central
bowl. Thus far we have come across no reason to believe that
seven separate lamps were distributed on the ends of seven
branches, especially since the concept of a seuen-branched ob-
ject does not appear in the biblical sources and since the
fabrication of lamps is not an integral part of the menorah's
construction.
The complex decoration on the tabernacle menorah can be
related to certain decorative elements in ancient stands.
Whereas the basic shape of the stand is widespread in time and
place in the ancient Near East, the appearance of certain fea-
tures of design that are analogous to those found on the taber-
nacle menorah can be somewhat localized geographically and tem-
porally. The rather ubiquitous ring or series of rings found
on stands from earliest times becomes, in the Aegeo-Egypto-
Canaanite sphere a series of downward-turned floral capitals.
The earliest evidence for such decoration is found on pottery
stands from the end of the Late Bronze Age in Palestine, pre-
cisely when the cultural connections of the Syro-Palestinian
area with Cyprus and the Aegean are most marked and when Egypt
dominates politically. However, prototypes can be seen earlier
in the elegant Minoan stone stands and in certain secular exam-
ples from Egypt and Assyria.
 83

Actually, it is not so much the actual detail of the dec-

oration, such as the use of a triple floral form, which strikes
us as most important. Rather it is the shift in conception of
the stand from a simple and functional device to an object
which assumes architectonic elements and thereby becomes impor-
tant in and of itself. We can never assume that details of
construction are included for purely decorative and aesthetic
motivations. On the contrary, despite whatever aesthetic ex-
pressiveness is achieved by the incorporation of ornamental
features, the transition from the simple archaic support to a
stand with architectural forms embodied in it must be accom-
panied by a change in focus. The function of the stand is no
longer its sole raison d'etre. The shape, now rooted in Aegeo-
Egyptian columnar traditions, must be seen as being equally
significant.
In this way, an object which had been primarily an appara-
tus—witness the wide range of purposes it served—became at
the same time a vehicle of communication. Of course the ele-
ment of "form" is present in every object without exception in-
asmuch as all things are comprised of both matter and form.
Unfortunately, there is no way of recovering with any sort of
accuracy to what degree in a given case the element of form
takes precedence. However, the marked shift from a simple ob-
ject to one which incorporates certain embellishing features in
a consistent fashion cannot be seen as an arbitrary occurrence.
The noted art historian Erwin Panofsky has pointed out
that where the sphere of practical object leaves off and that
of symbolic artistic object begins depends upon the intention
of its creator, an intention which never can be defined pre-
cisely, given its subjective nature, but which nonetheless can
be recognized as being conditioned by the standards of the ar-
114
tisan's period and environment. He goes on to say that

'Intentions' can only be formulated in terms

of alternatives: a situation has to be presumed in
which the maker of the work had more than one possi-
bility of procedure, that is to say, in which he
found himself confronted with a problem of choice
between various modes of emphasis. 1 1 5

The use of architectonic decorative elements for the tab-

ernacle menorah must be viewed against this backdrop. If in
84

fact there was an Urform of a simple stand with a single light

in hoary Israelite tradition as well as in ancient Near Eastern
tradition, the object presented by the text is highly elaborate
in comparison. It distinctly contains a series of embellish-
ments which bring to this appurtenance not only the value of a
practical cult object but also artistic and therefore symbolic
value of some kind. At this point it must be recalled that the
six branches issuing forth from the central stand have incor-
porated the same features into its construction. Thus the ex-
istence of the branches must be confronted along with the col-
umnar features if the symbolic value of the object as a whole
is to be approached.
The appearance of the triple capital decoration in styl-
ized form, which in fact creates three projections on either
side of the central stand in Phoenician art, might be seen as
relevant to the branched object of the tabernacle. However,
the full-blown nature of the branches, each with its own series
of ornamentation, cannot be properly understood on such a basis
alone. Yet none of the archaeological evidence already pre-
sented can provide assistance in this respect. Nothing in the
realm of stands, cultic or otherwise, can be related to the
branched form of the menorah. Evidently we must look in other
directions for an understanding of this aspect of the menorah.
It has long been recognized that because of the language
employed to describe the menorah and because of its assumed ap-
pearance as a thickened stem or shaft from which branches pro-
ject that the whole shape strongly resembles that of a stylized
tree. S. A. Cook pointed this out some time ago, largely on
the basis of its representation in later Jewish art. He would
have it "laid down as a rule that the candlestick [sic] and
sacred tree inevitably tend to merge into one another."''''''®
Goodenough also suggests this, pointing out that the vision of
Zechariah, with trees flanking the menorah, perhaps preserve
the original meaning of plant form imbued with sanctity. 1 1 7
Therefore, the next step in this study of the menorah must con-
sist of determining to what extent the iconography of sacred
trees in the ancient Near East can inform our task.
 NOTES

CHAPTER III

•""Exod 25: 37; 35:14; 37:23; 39:14.

2
1 Kgs 7:49 and 2 Chr 4:21.

^Cf. Exod 39: 37, "the lampstand of pure gold and (a) its
lamps with the lamps set and (b) all its utensils."
4
See Lev 24:4 and Num 8:4, where the m i J D and not its
lamps are described as being of hammered work of gold. The ac-
tual material of the lamps is nowhere specified. Possibly they
were clay lamps—if not of gold they would hardly be of another
metal; cf. Gen. R. 20:7, m a Din >10 2HT >t!f r i l M ,
5
So 1 Kgs 7:49, 1 Chr 28:14, and 2 Chr 4:3.

^Cultically, such stands also might be called offering

stands if they supported a bowl or plate containing some mater-
ial, liquid or solid, presented as an offering. Furthermore,
on a purely cultic level, such stands might exist as pillars
alone, with no functional value, only a symbolic one.

^The typological confusion that results from this merger

lies behind much of the discussion of Jachin and Boaz. See es-
pecially the article of W. F. Albright, "Two Cressets from
Marisa and the Pillars of Jachin and Boaz," BASOR 85 (1942),
pp. 18-27 (and also Alii, pp. 144-47) and that of May, "Two
Pillars," pp. 19-27. Part of Albright's argument revolves
around trying to identify the objects of the Marisa paintings
as cressets, as opposed to lampstands; actually, we cannot
agree with his arguments, but that is a separate matter.
o
Exod 30:9 refers to the incense altar: "You shall offer
no unholy incense therein, nor burnt offering, nor cereal of-
fering; and you shall pour no libation thereon."
g
Perhaps it was the failure to do so that led G. E.
Wright to conclude that while many other utensils of the sanc-
tuary could be archaeologically identified, the "golden candle-
sticks" (of the Solomonic temple) found little by the way of
archaeological corroboration. See his "Solomon's Temple Resur-
rected," BA 4 (1941), p. 29.
''""so Henri Frankfort, The Art and Architecture of the An-
cient Orient, London: Penguin Books, 1956, p. 2. See also
Samuel N. Kramer, The Sumerians, Chicago: University of Chi-
cago Press, 1963, p. 70.

•^Saucer lamps are a Canaanite development and are common-

ly found in Syria-Palestine beginning in the early part of the
2nd millennium. For unknown reasons, this usage did not spread
beyond this area until the Iron Age, so Smith, "Household
Lamps," p. 4.

85
86

12
At the New Year's festival at Babylon, for example,
there are instructions for the uses of torches, gizilli. See
F. Thureau-Dangin, Rituels Aeeadiens, Paris: Editions Ernest
Leroux, 1921, pp. 12 and 13, 346 and 347.
13
The carved designs on cylinder seals are the source of
most of our knowledge of Mesopotamian religious iconography and
symbolism. See AEI, pp. 48-49.
14
See C. Leonard Wooley, "The Excavations at Ur, 1925-26,"
AJ 6 (1926) , p. 376 and PI. L U I a , for a discussion of the ar-
tifact and an illustration of both registers.
15
Pictured in AOB, PI., CCXII, #530; cf. p. 153.
16
Woolley, AJ 6 (1926), PI. LIVb and pp. 376ff.
17
L . Legrain, "Boudoir of Queen Shubab," MJ 20 (1929), cf.
p. 226.
18
James Pritchard, ANEP, pp. 321-22 (#601) summarizes the
various understandings of the object as well as of the enigma-
tic figure to its right.
19
I n AOB, p. 128.
9n
AOB, PI. CCLIII, #661, and pp. 188f. For similar stands
on cylinder seals, see SCWA, figs. 1241, 1242.
21
Berlin: Karl Curtius Verlag, 1925.
22
Pp. 33-34.
23
Anton Moortgat, Vorderasiatisehe Rollsiegel, Berlin:
Verlag Gebr Mann, 1940, p. 139.
24
Moortgat, p. 144.
25
We only can speculate as to the use of this lid. Per-
haps it was to prevent the coals from spilling out when the
stand was being carried, this whole class of stands being
notably portable. In addition, the lid may have absorbed some
of the heat of the incense fire, a consideration not unimpor-
tant to a heavily-garbed priest during the hot months.
26
A0B, pp. 154-55.
21
AOB, p. 154.
2
®This is beautifully reproduced in Walter Andrae, Farbige
Keramik aus Assur, Berlin: Scarabaeus Verlag, 1923, Pis. 26 and
29, and pp. 23 and 25. A very similar stand, undated but styl-
istically very close to these examples, is found on a stone re-
lief shown in C. J. Gadd, The Stones of Assyria, London: Chatto
and Windus, 1936, PI. 42 and p. 194. This may be one of very
few "secular" depictions of such a stand, which appears at the
entrance of a building in a royal park. However, this building
very well may be a shrine within a temple grove.
 87

29
AOB, PI. CCXIII, #535, and p. 155. This appears on a
wall relief of Assurbanipal from Nineveh.
30
AOB, PI. LXVII, #148 and #149, and p. 50.

^^"AOB, PI. CIX, #257 is an example. On the same seal men-

tioned above, n. 24, there appear two such "symbols" alongside
the very similar, though larger, incense stand.
32
PI. 10, figs. 21 and 22. See the discussion on pp. 48-
49.
33
Cf. ARI, pp. 49-53.
34
So Albert Neuburger, The Teahniaal Arts and Sciences of
the Anaients, trans. Henry L. Blose, London: Methuen & Co.,
Ltd., 1930, p. 236. This may be a somewhat extreme view, but
it is nonetheless true that saucer lamps were rare outside
Syria-Palestine before the Iron Age. See above, n. 11.
35
See H. S. Harrison, "Fire-Making, Fuel, and Lighting,"
HT I: 234.
^ F o r other examples, see William Stevenson Smith, History
of Egyptian Sculpture and Painting in the Old Kingdom, London:
Oxford University Press, 1946, Pis. 32a and 45b.
37
Ibid., Pi. 33a and PI. 32b. The former has a very cur-
ious design, perhaps a fenestration, on its shaft.
oo
Ibid., p. 160; this is one of the best-preserved slab-
stelae of this period.
9
Ibid., pp. 142, 143; this is one of the earliest private
slabs perhaps dating to the end of the Second Dynasty.
40
See William Stevenson Smith, The Art and Architecture of
Ancient Egypt, Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1958, PI. 57.
4
^See, e.g., Georg Steindorff, Die Kunst der Agypter,
Leipzig: Insel-Verlag, 1928, p. 209; Georges Perrot and Charles
Chipiez, History of Art in Ancient Egypt, 2 vols., trans.
Walter Armstrong, London: Chapman and Hall, Limited, 1883, Vol.
I, fig. 115, p. 175; and Irmgard Woldering, The Arts of Egypt,
London: Thames and Hudson, 1967, PI. 53.
42
See E. Baldwin Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultural
Expression, New York: D. Appleton-Century Company, 1938, p. 77.
43
Steindorff, p. 252.
ii
A0B, p. 157.
45
Cf. AOB, PI. CCXVI, #539, which shows a pair of thigh-
high stands in a scene of Akhenaten and his wife before the
sun.
88

46
See the example noted above, n. 45, and our fig. 17.
47
The example shown in fig. 16 supports a blossom alone,
as does the example in n. 45. Both jars and blossoms appear
on A OB, PI. CXV, #271 and on two stelae of Sethos I, one found
at Hauran (AOB, PI. XL, #90) and one at Beth Shan (Alan Rowe,
"The Two Royal Stelae of Beth Shan," MJ 20 [1929], p. 88).
48
For several examples grouped together, see Karl Wigand,
"Thymiateria," BJ 122 (1912), PI. I: 6, 7, 8. The first exam-
ple is from the Middle Kingdom, the second from the New King-
dom, and the third from a later Ethiopic relief.
49
For general views of the front and side of the throne,
see W. S. Smith, Art and Architecture, Pis. 148a, 149.
50
See Galling, PI. 2, #20.

^ W . F. Albright, lahweh and the Gods of Canaan, Garden

City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1968, p. 151. He
further points out that despite all the excavation, surprising-
ly few clear-cut temple plans have been recovered.
52
Yigael Yadin, "The Third Season of Excavation at Hazor,
1957," BA 21 (1958), p. 35.
53
See John Gray, The Canaanites (Ancient Peoples and
Places, vol. 38), London: Thames and Hudson, 1964, pp. 71-73.
^ N o t e Josephus1 comment, War VII: 148-149, concerning the
lampstand carried off by Titus: "a lampstand, likewise made of
gold, but constructed on a different pattern from those of
ordinary life."
55
; G- Ernest Wright, "Lamps, Politics, and the Jewish Reli-
gion," BA 2 (1939), p. 23. See Smith, "Household Lamps," for a
comprehensive treatment of the development of lamps in Pales-
tine .
56
See Ruth Amiran, Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land, Jeru-
salem: Masada Press, 1969, Photo. 82 (p. 81) and Pis. 22:11,
23:9, 24:13, and 59:1.
57
See Smith, "Household Lamps," p. 14.
58
See the illustrations collected by North, pp. 189, 195,
201.
59
By North and Mohlenbrink, already mentioned, as well as
by Kurt Galling, Biblisches Reallexicon (Handbuch zum Alten
Testament I), Tubingen: Verlag von J.C.B. Mohr, 1937, cols.
348:10 and 349.
60
P . 303.
61
See PMK I: 577, 579. It does bear a resemblance, espe-
cially the handled specimens, to low colonial candleholders.
See Smith, "Household Lamps," Fig. 7, upper right.
 89

62
William Frederic Bade, Excavations at Tell en-Nasbeh
(Palestine Institute Publication, no. 1), Berkeley: Profes-
sional Press, 1928, p. 49.
6Z
Ibid., p. 50.
64
Frederick Jones Bliss, A Mound of Many Cities, London:
A. P. Watt & Son, 1894, p. 84.
W. Crowfoot et al, The Objects from Samaria (Samaria-
Sebaste, vol. Ill), London: Palestine Exploration Fund, 1957,
p. 182.

®®For a partial collection of Palestinian examples, see

CPP, PI. 91. There seems to be only one occurrence in the
northern, Syrian area, at Ras Shamra; see Claude F. A. Schaef-
fer, Ugaritica II (Bibliothèque Archéologique et Historique,
47), Paris: Librairie Orientaliste Paul Guethner, 1949, Fig.
Ill: 2, 6.

^PMK I, gives a Fourth Dynasty Egyptian example, Fig.

423a, as well as a similar Early Minoan II specimen, Fig. 423b.
John L. Myres, "Excavations in Cyprus in 1894: IV - Larnaka:
Graeco-Phoenician and Hellenic Tombs," JHS 17 (1897), Fig.
12: 12, 13, shows some "Graeco-Phoenician" examples from a
tomb, No. 56, with many Egyptian affinities.
fi 8
Such as P. L. 0. Guy and Robert Engberg, Megiddo Tombs
(OIP, XXXIII), Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938, p.
5.
^ E l i h u Grant and G. Ernest Wright, Ain Shems Excavations
Part IV (Pottery), Haverford: Biblical and Kindred Studies (No.
7), 1938, PI. XL: 29 shows a double-bowl lamp of which the in-
terior is blackened by smoke. See also Crowfoot et al, p. 106,
Q4 741, which likewise bears traces of burning.

^®For other more technical considerations, see Smith,

"Household Lamps," pp. 16-17.

^ M . F. Laming Macadam, Temples of Kawa II. History and

Archaeology of the Site, London: Oxford University Press, 1955,
Pl. XV. Temple T is from the 7th century, but it is carefully
and consciously modeled on Old Kingdom architecture and decor-
ation.
72
The repeated use of n>V, in the Hiphil, with , seems
to suggest the lighting of the lamp, causing a light or flame
to ascend. Whereas there are biblical expressions for the
burning or shining of a light or lamp ("1V3, m J ) and the extin-
guishing of a lamp ( m 3 , "]VT) , there seems to be no term for
the lighting of a lamp unless we take ÏÏ>V in this sense. In
this case U would be used not so much as a lamp vessel but
rather as a "light" equivalent to Tin or T1KO. This is not an
uncommon usage of ~U in the Bible; see, e.g., Prov 13:9.
90

73
Smith, Household Lamps," p. 16. Could the biblical in-
sistence upon pure olive oil be to dissociate it from the use
of other fuel?
74
See Chapter Fourteen, "Cult Vessels," pp. 302-303.

^Bernard Goldman, The Sacred. Portal, Detroit: Wayne State

University Press, 1966, deals with the iconographic motifs
represented in this form; see especially pp. 94-100.
76
See Amiran, Photo 331.
11
Ibid.., Photos 332, 333, 334, 339, 341, 342; this is only
a partial selection.
78
See, e.g., Herbert Gordon May, Material Remains of the
Megiddo Cult (OIP, 26), Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1935, PI. XVII, M2702. The Late Bronze II date given by May
is tentative and perhaps too early, as is the provisional 12th
century date given for a similar stand from Beth Shan.
79
We also shall not consider here the bulging, handled,
often painted and fenestrated objects (see Amiran, Photos 336,
343, 344, 345) which seem to have a separate typology and de-
velopment.
80
See Amiran, Photos 332, 334.
OT
Cf. Galling 1 s analysis, Der Altar, p. 70 and PI. 14.
82
May, Material Remains, PI. XX, P6056, shows the funnel-
shaped projection; cf. pp. 21-22.
83
A0B, PI. CLXXXV, #446.
84
A full-size color reproduction can be found in his Tell
et Mutesellim I, Leipzig: Rudolf Haupt, 1908, frontispiece.
See p. 128, Fig. 190, for a section drawing.
8 5Material Remains, p. 21.
O f:
Albright, "Two Cressets," p. 22, prefers a 6th century
date to the "subjective" 4th century one proposed by its ex-
cavator, Dussaud.
o7
See May, Material Remains, p. 22. It comes from an Iron
I "sacred area" and it bears remarkable similarity to those
Egyptian examples mentioned above, pp. 71-72 and n. 71.

89
Smith, "Household Lamps," p. 23, makes the entirely
credible suggestion that Elisha's lampstand, 2 Kgs 4:8-10, was
just such a pedestalled lamp insofar as the text mentions only
the stand, or m i 3D, and not a separate lamp to go with it.
 91

90
See Robert Mond and Oliver Myers, The Buaheum, 3 vols.,
London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1934, Vol. Ill, Pl. CXL,
no. 57.
91
Smith, "Household Lamps," p. 9, supposes that the few
examples of this type probably served a cultic function.
92
See R. A. S. MacAlister, The Excavation of Gezer, 3
vols., London: John Murray, 1912, Vol. I: 322. It is obvious
from this group that lamps or bowls do not need basal projec-
tions in order to be inserted in stands or other vessels.
93
The best-known examples come from Tell Beit Mirsim
(William Foxwell Albright, The Excavation of Tell Beit Mirsim
III [AASOR XXI-XXII for 1941-43], New Haven: American Schools
of Oriental Research, 1943, Pis. 57:b, 2 and 32:2) and Tell en-
Nasbeh (Joseph Carson Wampler, Tell en-Nasbeh II, Berkeley:
Palestine Institute of the Pacific School of Religion, 1947,
PI. 71:1645). Smith, "Household Lamps," p. 23, sees these 7th
century stands as stylized trees, with the stubs representing
branches. That is possible, but I rather would see the stubs
as prongs, prototypical of the graceful, pronged bronze stands,
or rather attachments for wooden shafts, of the 6th century or
later. Of course, the resemblance to a tree may derive from
the fact that this form derives ultimately from a simple wooden
prototype, such as a trimmed, forked tree branch.
94
See, e.g., the tall chalice, really a stand with
attached bowl, from Megiddo, in May, Material Remains, Pl. XIV:
P5824, which is discolored by fire and which May thinks may
have been used as a lamp.
95
See James Walter Graham, The Palaces of Crete, Prince-
ton: Princeton University Press, 1962, pp. 214-15.
9è
PMK III: 26.
97
PME II: 321 and III: 26. See also Vol. II, Part II:
480-81 and fig. 288a for an elegant pedestalled lamp with
campanaform capital and spiral "sacred ivy" fluting, both fea-
tures bearing Egyptian influence.
98 -
R. Dussaud, Les civilizations préhelleniques dans le
basin de la Mer Egée, Paris: Geuthner, 1914, p. 116, notes that
similar examples have been found at Mycenae and Phylacopi.
PMK III, Fig. 14b.
100
Ibid., II, pt. 1, Fig. 62a and b, Fig. 174, and pt. 2,
Fig. 325.
101
S e e Graham, Palaces of Crete, p. 215, Raymond Matton, La
Crète Antique, Athens: Institut Français d'Athènes, 1955, p.
100, and PMK II, pt. 2, pp. 522 and 480.
102
Ibid. Cf. E. B. Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultur-
al Expression, Pl. XXX: 2, which shows such a capital from the
92

Twelfth Dynasty Beni Hasan tombs. Such columns imitated bun-

dles of four reeds or palm branches, bound together as supports
of houses.

^"^Gisela M. A. Richter, Greek, Etrusoan, and Roman

Bronzes, New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1915, p. 366.
104
S e e ibid., Pis. 1270, 1272, 1277.

^"""see above, n. 93, with respect to the miniature pottery

stands from Palestine.

"'"^Compare the curious existence in a verse found only in

the Greek, Exod 38:16 (following the Greek translation of He-
brew 37:19), of the use of "sockets" (évôêvua) for the place-
ment of the lamps of the menorah.
107
There are 57 known examples of this type in existence,
the largest number (32) having been found on Cyprus. They are
so similar in style and manufacture that a common origin for
them has been postulated; see Isabelle Raubitschek, "Phoenician
Bronze Lamp Stands or Thymiateria" (abstract), AJA 78 (1974),
p. 175. Ms. Raubitschek's designation Phoenician may need to
be qualified somewhat—they are of the type of Phoenician work-
manship that flourished chiefly on Cyprus and Samos.
108
The ultimate origin of this form, first appearing
structurally as the Proto-Ionic capitals of Palestine in the
10th century, is uncertain. Some have suggested, as Dussaud,
p. 280, a Cypriote origin. Others, such as Robert Engberg,
"Tree Designs on Pottery with Suggestions concerning the Origin
of the Proto-Ionic Capital," in May, Material Remains, pp. 35-
42, suggest a North Syrian origin.
109
So Albright, Two Cressets, p. 22. The seal presum-
ably is Cypriot. Cf. the stand from Sardinia depicted in
Wigand, Pl. II, #52. According to Wigand, this stand is also
before a god seated on a sphinx throne. Wigand dates it to
the 7th or 6th century; Albright, "Two Cressets," p. 23, would
raise it to the 9th century because of its archaic style.
"'"''"^Albright, ibid., p. 23, tentatively dates it to the 6th
century.

•'••''''"Georges Perrot and Charles Chipiez, Histoire de l'art

dans l'antiquité , Vol. III: Phénioie-Chypre, Paris: Libraire
Hachette et Cie, 1885, p. 134, connect these representations
with the bronze stands from Cyprus because of the triple in-
verted petal decoration.
11 ?
Ibid., p. 309. Albright, "Two Cressets," p. 23, gives
this a 4th century date.
113
See Wigand, Pis. II and III. Wigand, while beginning
his study with Egyptian, Mesopotamian, and Palestinian exam-
ples, is most interested in the Greek-Hellenistic and
Etruscan-Roman worlds; thus his work is useful in following
the post-Phoenician developments.
 93

114
Meaning in the Visual Arts, Garden City, New York:
Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1955, p. 12.

Ibid. , p. 21.
116
" N o t e s and Queries," PEF,QS 1903, p. 186.

JSGRP IV: 73. A similar reaction comes from the disci-

pline of botany: Nogah Hareureni, in Ecology in the Bible,
Kiryat Ono, Israel: Neot Kedumim, Ltd., 1974, p. 48, posits a
direct relationship between the menorah and a specific plant,
viz., a type of sage or salvia called "Moriah" in Hebrew. A
photograph of the Moriah plant appears on the cover of this
book.
 CHAPTER IV

THE SACRED TREE IN ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN ICONOGRAPHY

I. Introduction: General Considerations

It is hardly an exaggeration to indicate that the sacred-

ness of vegetation and trees has been a recurrent and integral
theme in a wide range of cultures spanning most areas of the
globe and most epochs of human history. Indeed, no symbol en-
joys such a widespread and influential position as the sacred
tree. As a result, in every culture in which the sanctity of
vegetal life is a potent factor, a whole constellation of be-
liefs and customs have accrued to the symbol of the tree. The
characteristics of such a constellation are conditioned by the
localized environment in which it appears and are expressed
best by the mythic and ritualistic traditions which surround
and preserve its sanctity within a given civilization. Tracing
these various expressions is the domain par excellence of com-
parative religion.^
Insofar as we have eschewed already the propriety of
searching out the mythology connected with a symbol as a means
2
of approaching its value within a neighboring culture, the
particular mythological cycles adjoined to the sacred tree con-
cept among Israel's neighbors cannot be a concern here. How-
ever, we cannot continue without recognizing that certain basic
life themes are found transmitted within this symbol regardless
of the particular mythic way in which such themes are embedded
in the primary symbol.
The sacred quality of trees lies in the fact of their em-
bodiment of the life principle. They serve as the remarkable
and unfailing proof of the persistent renewal of life, of the
periodic revivification of vegetative life upon which mankind
is dependent for sustenance. Since the ultimate source of this
life that renews is found within divine creation, trees become
imbued with the divine power that has deigned to impart life
and regeneration within the mundane sphere. At least in the
Semitic world, sanctity of place thus becomes marked frequently
if not invariably by the existence of a living tree or, in more

95
96

developed sanctuaries, some sort of surrogate plant life. The

sacred tree thus
3 stands at the center as indication of the
hieros topos. Indeed, Eliade has called it the most widely
distributed variant of the symbolism of the center whereby all
sacred trees, whether natural or artificial, are projected into
and assimilated by the cosmic tree at the omphalos of the uni-
4
verse.
The widespread association of vegetal life with the gener-
ative power of the divinity has resulted in the common phenome-
non of the manifestation of deity within or at certain trees.
The god, often a fertility deity, who would favor the excep-
tional growth and fecundity of particular trees, indicates his
presence or the possibility of his presence at such locations.
The god thus demonstrates his favorite haunts; the tree points
the worshipper in the direction in which he likely is to en-
counter the deity he seeks.
Furthermore, the divinity revealed in the tree is also the
source of the hoped-for life without death, to whom man turns
in search of his own immortality. Thus the theophany motif of
the sacred tree becomes blended inextricably with the concept
of life eternal. The tree of life in the sense of immortal
life becomes an inseparable aspect of the regenerative princi-
ple contained within plant life."*
The close association of divinity with tree is a frequent-
ly-expressed theme in the plastic art of the ancient Near East,
throughout the whole "Indo-Mesopotamo-Egypto-Aegean" area. A
divinity manifested in a tree can appear by means of the depic-
tion of a dendromorphic deity with anthropomorphic arms out-
stretched from the tree, or through the depiction of fruitful
branches extending from an anthropomorphic representation of
the deity. However, in either case it is doubtful that such
treatment renders the tree as an object sacred unto itself.
Even in its most explicit identification with deity, the tree
must have remained a vehicle, holy only in that it shared and
7
signified a transcendent reality. It becomes a religious ob-
ject only by virtue of its unique ability to express something
beyond itself. In this sense it is truly a symbol, with all
the power that is contained in such an expression.
 97

If, then, the mythology attached to the appearance of

sacred trees is beyond our purview, the graphic morphology of
tree symbols as they appear on the monuments and artifacts of
Near Eastern antiquity is very much 'the concern of our investi-
gation here. We turn to graphic representations of vegetation-
al themes in the hopes that they can divulge information rele-
vant to the tabernacle menorah that our philological and typo-
logical examinations could not supply.
Specifically, we are interested in the opposite verticil-
late form assumed by the composite lampstand—the datum of the
branches as pedicels extending in pairs from a rachis or pri-
mary axis indicates this particular botanical analogy, an
Q

analogy that is useful if we are to deal with plant forms. In

addition, the repetitive nature of the combined architectonic
embellishments has yet to be properly illuminated. Finally,
the seven-fold (or six-plus-one) nature of the arrangement of
the branches has not been approached satisfactorily.
It has been demonstrated already in Chapter III that the
typological development of altar stands in the ancient Near
East is grounded in a basic form that was established in the
earliest historical sources and which continued relatively un-
changed throughout the existence of the high cultures of pre-
Hellenic antiquity, or for as long as the cultural integrity
was maintained. This perhaps can be said about literary and
artistic patterns in general. Certain forms and themes are es-
tablished early in the 3rd millennium and remain relatively
9
fixed thereafter, allowing for secondary and regional influ-
ences throughout Near Eastern history to create recognizable
and definable developments and variations in style.
In any case, it is not illogical to search throughout the
ancient Near East for forms which are part of the symbolic lin-
gua franca and which therefore are relevant to the object we
are trying to understand. Our initial search, of course, lies
in the great civilizations of the Tigris-Euphrates and the Nile
basins. The peripheral regions of the Levant and of the east-
ern Mediterranean also draw our attention, but it must be re-
membered that these areas are dominated throughout most of
their history by the surrounding cultures. Their indigenous
98

artistic productions, except for periodic outbursts of purely

native inspiration, always are colored by their contacts with
the larger political powers with which they come in contact.

II. Comparative Material

A. Mesopotamia

It must be stated at the outset that there is an enormous

wealth of material, chiefly in glyptic art but also in stone
reliefs, for the study of the depictions of the sacred tree
throughout Mesopotamian history. Concomitant with this situa-
tion is a rather large literature on the subject. Thus in no
way is it intended here to traverse the length and breadth of
this subject. The aim is rather to touch upon the overriding
trends anil prominent characteristics of arboreal representa-
tions that may inform our subject. This will be done in a
chronological context, beginning with the earliest materials.
The work of Nell Perrot'''1 must be credited with establish-
ing the priority of the Elamite expression of the sacred tree
for the subsequent diffusion of this motif throughout the an-
cient Near East. In the earliest examples the fructifying
theme is present already in the typical appearance of an anti-
thetical pair of animals flanking a tree. Birds and serpents
are found, but capridae are most prevalent. Strikingly enough,
in even the earliest representations the tree overwhelmingly
appears in stylized form.
Take, for example, the little tableau (fig. 42) found on a
12
bowl from Susa. The tree is partly naturalistic but the ten-
dency towards stylization already is strong, as evidenced in
the angular treatment of the branches and in the completely
conventionalized depiction of the fruit as capitulae, or round-
ed terminal protuberances. And on a large stone vase from
Protodynastic Mesopotamia (Khafaje), there is a tree (fig. 43)
with six beautiful stylized branches appearing in corymbous
fashion along a central trunk, with the leaves regularly ar-
13
ranged. However, it must be noted that the species of tree
in the mind of the Elamite artist is not fixed; and various
types of arrangements representing all three dendritic types as
well as unrecognizable, fanciful forms do occur.
 99

In addition to the tree and the animal life nourished

thereby a third element also appears very early on Susian cyl-
inders, namely, some sort of astral form (fig. 44): star, cres-
cent (moon), or disc (sun). Perrot thus talks of a triple
theme—"capride-astre-arbre"—which typifies the Elamite
14
seals. The theme of the nourishing quality of the tree, in-
dicated by the nibbling animals, is completed by the appearance
of light sources necessary for vegetal growth.
The oldest Mesopotamian depictions per se present themes
that are very close to those of Elam,''"5 though in some cases
the eagle replaces the tree. For the first time, with the ap-
pearance of divine figures and human figures in worshipful pos-
itions, this theme takes us directly into the cultic sphere.
The trees are very conventionalized and crude. They may not be
intended to represent natural trees at all; in at least one in-
stance (fig. 45) a tree situated between a suppliant and a
deity is resting on a table-like support, and two bands around
the upper portion of the trunk further contribute to the sense
of artificiality.
The last-mentioned arrangement brings to mind the series
of altar stands discussed in Chapter III from the neo-Sumerian
and also from the Early Dynastic period in which an upright
branch and sometimes also two clusters of dates issue forth
from the top of the stand. The artificiality of the combina-
tion is revealed by the fact that it is never a palm tree that
is depicted rising from the stand, despite the appearance of
the date clusters. In the earliest examples, only the branches
(usually two) are found, witness one very archaic seal (fig.
46) in which a typical cylindrical stand before the seated
Ishtar has two spiked shoots, perhaps stalks of grain, project-
ing upwards from its t o p . ^
With the onset of the Akkadian period, the typical occur-
rence of the sacred tree places it in close association with
the sacred mountain, thus bringing the cosmic force of the tree
into the foreground. 18 In certain worship scenes, a tree
serves first as a terminal motif on cylinders and then figures
19
as the focus of attention of the seated figure. Sometimes
the trees are recognizable as conifers or as palms; otherwise,
they are notably schematic and unidentifiable.
100

Even more interesting than the reproductions of trees,

however, is the occurrence in the Akkadian period of the an-
thropomorphic deity of vegetation with branches sprouting from
the body of the god. This is perhaps the fullest characteriza-
tion possible of the divine power associated with the produc-
20
tion of plant life. The life-producing nature of the god is
visually expressed by the vegetation growing from his/her cor-
poreal form. In the most typical examples (fig. 48), the body
of the deity serves as a sort21 of central stem from which branch
three pairs of grain stalks. One remarkable seal cylinder of
Naram-Sin, son of Sargon, depicts a seated goddess from whose
shoulders presumably (since the seal is damaged at her left
shoulder) three pairs of wheat stalks come forth. But what is
so striking is that behind the goddess is the unusual presence
of a statue or idol of the same goddess, standing on a pedestal
with the same three pairs of grain sprouting upwards from her
22
body. These are all very agricultural scenes, with the wor-
shipper with plow in hand often represented before the sprout-
ing deity.
Also from the Akkadian period comes a group of seals ex-
pressing the nature of Shamash. These seals are fascinating
when viewed in conjunction with the vegetation scenes just de-
scribed. The sun god appears with one foot upon the cosmic
mountain. In some cases the cosmic tree also is present, in a
few instances the tree or branch on a stand appears, and in
other instances Shamash appears to replace the tree in the ar-
rangements of the elements of the tableau. What is significant
is that the essence of the god in these
23 scenes is revealed by
rays emanating from his shoulders. The arrangement of the
rays (fig. 49) is exactly the same as the positioning of the
grain stalks in the agricultural scenes mentioned above. Fur-
ther, while four pairs or asymetrical groupings of the rays do
exist, the overwhelming majority of seals feature six rays in
pairs of two extending from the shoulders of the god with the
head of the god as the central, seventh element between the
three pairs. The essence of the deity as supplier of the sus-
taining light of the sun is expressed iconographically in a way
that exactly parallels the expression of the deity as the
source of vegetative sustenance.
 101

This device of picturing emanations from the shoulders of

gods seems to be a conscious artistic convention, employed to
indicate the particular aspect of divine nature appropriate to
the content of the seal design. The fact that at least two ad-
ditional manifestations of such a convention can be isolated
would support this contention. First, the part of Ishtar's na-
ture which finds expression in her characterization as a hunt-
ress or warrior goddess is sometimes represented iconographi-
cally by the device of placing her upon a lion-throne. In ad-
dition, she is periodically shown (fig. 50) with a series of
weapons, three or four pairs of them, rising from her shoul-
24
ders. Second, the well-known theme of the water god, or god
with streams, is portrayed either by the god holding a vase
from which two streams issue forth—a stream on each side of
the god, each delineated by two lines standing for the two
banks or edges of the rivers—or by the streams gushing forth
from the body of the god himself, specifically from his shoul-
25
ders. Interestingly, in some instances (fig. 51), the con-
vention as applied to vegetation or sun rays or weapons, in
which usually three pairs of emanations appear, was so strong
as to cause the gem cutter to defy the normal portrayal of
streams by their banks and instead cut three pairs of lines to
indicate the flowing water.
On occasion, some of these themes are combined on the same
seal. In at least one instance, both streams and 27stalks issue
forth in dendritic fashion from a vegetation god. A solar
deity with flames projecting from his shoulders also appears on
this cylinder. It is more usual, however, to find only one
"branched deity" but to find him in juxtaposition with a non-
anthropomorphic symbol of another of these themes. In parti-
cular, the flaming god appears, as already noted, upon the cos-
mic mountain either in addition to or instead of the cosmic
tree. This specific association of themes of fertility and
light must be seen, like the animal-tree-star/disc/crescent mo-
tif of earlier times, as an expression of the awareness of the
dependence of nourishing organic life upon the light of the sun
as well as upon the water of life absorbed by the roots of the
28
tree. All these needs are supplied as the result of divine
beneficence.
102

With the advent of the neo-Sumerian period, many of the

tree themes associated with the Susian monuments and artifacts
reappear in similar form, namely the pair of animals flanking
a schematic tree. Evidence that these Ur III examples follow
close upon the Akkadian period comes from the fact that the
sacred tree which nourishes the beasts—now largely bovidae
29
rather than capridae—grows from a stylized mountain. Other-
wise from the neo-Sumerian period, the already mentioned appear-
ance of the tall slender vase stand containing foliage and
fruits is notable; the libations frequently attendant upon such
scenes reinforce the conveyed notion of hoped-for fecundity.
The iconography of the Old Babylonian period continues in
the tradition of the Akkadian period, with many of the motifs
discussed above represented. However, forms become convention-
alized even more. The sacred mountain,
30 for example, is reduced
to a mere footstool in some cases. This simplification of
design tends to destroy the main theme and results in the com-
position becoming a conglomeration of isolated
31 figures rather
than a coherent and integrated arrangement. As a result,
both the strong cultic presentations of the Sumerian types and
the forceful mythological portrayals of the Sargonid seals were
weakened and diffused. It is Frankfort's tempting hypothesis—
which certainly needs to be re-examined and tested in light of
subsequently available materials—that the degeneration of the
earlier coherent scenes into conglomerations of individual fig-
ures and objects is the result of an interest
32 in symbolizing
astrological aspects of the universe.
In any case, there is no new pertinent information avail-
able from Mesopotamian glyptic art until the influences of the
Kassites in the south and the Hurri-Mitannians in the north are
felt in the middle of the 2nd millennium. Particularly in the
north, the sacred tree enjoys a resurgence of popularity which
is paralleled in glyptic developments in the Syro-Hittite
sphere and in the Aegean, particularly Cyprus. There are three
ways in which the tree is used in Mitanni designs:33 1) as the
central motif in an arrangement of antithetical animals of all
sorts; 2) as an emblem, in the form of either a stylized pole
or a schematic fruit-bearing staff, held by the deity or by two
 103

human figures; and 3) as an accessory emblem in the field of

design rather than as the center of a tableau.
The first variety (fig. 52) is one with which we are
familiar already; it merely might be said that the stylized
form assumed by the tree in these cases tends to be that of a
composite flowering plant, with the uppermost element depicted
in clear umbellate or compound umbellate fashion. In the third
variety, the tree is a subsidiary, more naturalistic element
and offers no special information. It is the second type that
constitutes the most frequent motif and which offers fresh ma-
terial .
This type of design is found chiefly in the corpus pro-
duced by the artisans of Nuzi from the 16th to the 14th centur-
ies, but it is in evidence wherever the Hurrian influence is
exerted, in Syria, in the Levant, and in the Kassite regime.
In these seals the sacred tree appears in a distinct stylized
shape which is not a tree at all but rather is a rod or branch
adorned with a series of globular objects or "balls" no doubt
representing in stylized form either the fruit and/or the flow-
34
ers of the branch. These artificial-appearing branches are
35
often hand held and usually consist of six "balls" joined to
the rod by secondary axes generally of equal length, three on
each side of the central axis plus a seventh at the top (fig.
53). Whenever this object is to be free-standing, the branch
does not usually become elongated into a trunk. Instead, it
appears, in rather schematic fashion, to be resting on a slen-
der stand, the upper portion of which3 6 is demarcated by one,
two, or three exaggerated moldings.
The symbolic associations and political implications of
the rod as
"Sacred a branch
Tree" broken
have been offwith
dealt fromby
the "Tree of 37
Widengren. Life"
In or
an ap-
38
pendix to his main thesis he discusses the so-called "ball-
staff" described above and concludes that this object is indeed
a seven-branched life-tree (or branch thereof) with its fruits.
He points to the existence of these seven balls as a motif in-
dependent of the staff with which it came to be associated and
eventually connected, in the literal sense.
As independent elements, these balls, or seven dots,
originally were scattered about as vague, undefined, and even
104

u n o b t r u s i v e — b u t always seven in n u m b e r — e l e m e n t s in the field

39
of seal designs. With the advent of the interest in astron-
omy in the Old Babylonian period, the meaning of these dots
seems to be transferred to a celestial framework in that they
now are arranged carefully in rosettes, sun-like, or in astral
formations like the constellation Pleiades. If in fact it is
these seven dots which are incorporated into the pedicular ar-
rangement of the branch of Mitanni seals, we would then have
another example of the coalescence of a fertility symbol with
a group imbued with celestial significance.
This survey of the tree motif in Mesopotamia cannot be
concluded without reference to its treatment in Assyrian art.
The sacred tree becomes a dominant motif, ubiquitous and un-
countable, appearing on stone monuments, on brick edifices, on
cylinders, and on fabrics. The artistic origins are to be
sought in the Mitannian portrayal of the composite plant form
between antithetical animals. This is evident in the earliest
Middle Assyrian seals of the 14th century, where the typical
animals accompanying the tree are fanciful creations—winged
griffons, sphinxes, and lion-griffons as opposed to capridae or
herbidae.
In the developed style of the neo-Assyrian period, when
Assyria dominated western Asia, an artificial tree (fig.41 54) is
the focus of innumerable seals of cultic preoccupation. Cul-
tic figures replace the antithetical animals, and the appear-
ance of the fruit produced by the tree becomes of paramount im-
portance. The trunk of the tree, which certainly
42 seems to have
been derived originally from the date palm, is rendered as an
artificial column. The naturalistic tendencies which were
present in the earlier Assyrian designs are reserved now for
non-cultic matters such as hunting scenes. The artificiality
of the trunk is indicated by the three sets of triple molding,
reminiscent of capitals, which characterize many of the
trees.43 Even when the foliage is treated somewhat
44 naturally,
the architectonic nature of the trunk persists. The usual
treatment of the foliage and fruit, of course, is totally con-
ventionalized and in many cases is extremely elaborate, giving
full expression to the concerns for detail, symmetry, and
 105

geometry which are present in Assyrian art in its most devel-

oped state.
In keeping with the astral interests of the Assyrians,
there are present also many celestial signs in the fields of
scenes presenting the life-tree and attendant figures. The one
which comes to dominate, however, is the winged solar disc,
45
symbol of Assur. This symbol occurs very frequently as an
important part of the ritual tree scenes, positioned directly
above the tree in a prominent way. Its intimate symbolic con-
nection as supplier of light with the fecundity expressed by
the tree is apparent.
It might be added that neo-Babylonian and to a lesser ex-
tent some later Achaemenid seals are dependent to a large ex-
tent upon the themes and workmanship of Assyrian glyptic.
Their subjects, style, and technique are all nearly
46 indistin-
guishable from contemporary Assyrian productions. Even after
the fall of Nineveh and the accession of Babylon to political
ascendancy, the traditions of the preceding age by and large
are retained.

Summary

This conspectus of Mesopotamian arboreal themes has been

somewhat extensive because the corpus is so large and also be-
cause of the importance of presenting the trends of the Meso-
potamian material insofar as they tend to dominate much of the
peripheral regions of the ancient Near East. Whatever shall be
said subsequently about motifs in Syro-Hittite, Palestinian,
and even Aegean productions cannot be understood properly with-
out reference to the dominant force of the series of cultures
which flourished in the Tigris-Euphrates basin. Yet it must be
emphasized that in selecting the material deemed relevant to
our task, unavoidably we have cut it off from its rich matrix.
Further, even within the theme we are following, we only have
touched in schematic fashion as dictated by our particular in-
terests upon the vast possibilities for its elucidation.
In terms of morphology, several interesting phenomena have
been observed. For one thing, the general tendency among Meso-
potamian artists or artisans is towards conventionalization and
106

stylization of their subjects. A desire to duplicate nature

is consistently absent. Even the most detailed renditions of
trees, for example, tend to be fanciful in conception with no
regard for species.
The second observation concerns the fact that as long as
mythological or "secular" scenes are presented, a whole tree,
no matter how stylized, appears. However, once the cultic
sphere is entered and ritual scenes become the subject matter,
tree branches are found in place of depictions of living arbor-
escences. Furthermore, in such cultic scenes the importance of
depicting fruit tends to increase, since the absence of atten-
dant animals removes the usual device for conveying the fruit-
fulness of plant life.
A third observation concerns our discovery that there ex-
ists a convention for expressing the essence of deity which
assumes the typical form of six upward-reaching branches, in
three pairs, extending from a central element which happens in
Mesopotamian iconography to be the body of the god. The total
figure thus created is the formal equivalent with respect to
arrangement of elements of the branches occurring in ritual
scenes.
With respect to context, one unanticipated but striking
development has been noted repeatedly, viz., the occurrence of
some celestial symbol in close relationship with the arboreal
representation. This combination is not limited to mythologi-
cal or to "secular" or to cultic scenes but rather can be found
in any arrangement in which a tree or branch is featured. In
some instances, the tree and light motifs are even visually
combined, such as in the Akkadian mythological seals in which
the flaming god assumes the graphic position usually reserved
for the cosmic tree, or in the Mitanni seals where celestial
dots become attached to the cultic rod and thus merge with the
fructifying elements thereof. Thus does a triple theme already
present in Susian designs find subtle but powerful expression.
The recurring existence of seven-fold arrangements hardly
needs to be pointed out. Wherever and as soon as stylization
takes place, that is, whenever man imposes his subjective con-
ception of reality upon what actually occurs in nature, we find
 107

gravitation towards the utilization of seven elements as the

mechanism for the transmission of complex natural forms as well
as for indicating the attributes and hence the essence of cer-
tain divinities. The ultimate reasons for the widespread
Semitic selection of seven as a symbolic vehicle are not under-
stood fully, though some sort of astronomical basis may be as-
sumed, at least in part. 47

B. Egypt

The overlying concern of Egyptian artistic and architec-

tural expression is the desire to ensure some measure of perma-
nence. The very invention of stone architecture, an accom-
plishment of immense and far-reaching importance, has been at-
tributed to the Egyptian wish to secure the durability of
48
buildings. The success of this venture is evidenced in the
continued existence until today of the earliest stone struc-
ture, Djoser's Pyramid of the Third Dynasty at Saqqara, as well
as of countless subsequent monumental edifices.
One of the most striking aspects of the work of the archi-
tect Imhotep at Saqqara is the manner in which perishable ma-
terials which had no doubt been in long use as architectural
elements were imitated with almost slavish precision. In this
way, plant forms which had traditionally been used to construct
buildings of reed and wood were translated into large scale
49
stone masonry. In other words, the peculiar situation was
created whereby the stone structures were intended to differ
from the age-old traditional habitations in terms of durability
alone.These enduring stone forms were reserved chiefly for
the building of temples and tombs, structures related to Egyp-
tian beliefs in life after death. Thus the transience of secu-
lar, domestic architecture, in which huts and houses could van-
ish easily with the periodic flooding of the Nile, was avoided.
Continuation of afterlife was insured by the achievement of the
permanence of the dwellings reserved for the dead.
This "happy Egyptian facility" for the adaptation of plant
forms to conventionalized architectural design is exemplified
by the shapes of the columnar supports (fig. 55) introduced in-
to the medium of masonry construction. Egyptian columnation
108

from the outset was the result of ideas which were totally dif-
ferent from the ordinary concept of supportive elements in
later classical and European architecture. Columns could be
seen primarily either as supports or as ideographic forms. It
is the latter consideration which dominated the Egyptian treat-
ment of columns; the symbolic statement made by the particular
use of a plant form column prevailed over purely tectonic re-
flections. Columns were always pregnant with religious symbol-
ism whether used in overtly religious structures or for "secu-
52
lar purposes.
This attitude towards columnation arises from the basic
conception of columns as fertility emblems. They embody plant
life, rising out of the fertile soil to bring sustenance, pro-
tection, and continued existence to the people and the land.
Columns no doubt originated structurally as poles or bundles of
reeds, with lotus or papyrus flowers tied to the top, used to
support the thatching of the earliest huts. As a result,
back in the inner recesses of Egyptian memory, which
never seems to have forgotten anything, was always
a mental image of the earliest fertility shafts, made
for the first shrine by binding together the growing
stalks of the marshes, and before which their ances-
tors had worshipped as they did before the dedu em-
blem of Osiris.... They saw not stone but symbol.

Consequently, columnation was of singular importance; a wide

variety of Egyptian plant and floral f o r m s — l i l y , papyrus, lo-
tus, palm, e t c . — w e r e given continuity and permanence in stone
as the architect strove to thwart time, destruction, and
. . . 54
death.
The actual translation of vegetal life into architectonic
forms was carried out with an eye for the preservation of as
much detail as possible. It was a naturalistic approach which
was not so much an effort to copy nature exactly as it was a
selection of the most memorable and significant aspect of the
natural object being committed to artistic or architectural
presentation.Thus even when submitting to formalizing ten-
dencies, the underlying naturalization was never threatened.
The naturalistic preoccupation of the Egyptian treatment
of plant forms in columns can likewise be perceived in the de-
piction of plants, trees, and flowers in the countless wall
 109

paintings and monumental reliefs which have survived. Sir

Flinders Petrie conveniently has collected many of these repro-
ductions of arboreal and floral themes from Egypt as well as
from other areas of the ancient Near East.^® It is readily ap-
parent that the Egyptian plant and tree designs are presented
with a natural and flowing grace that is found outside Egypt
only where Egyptian cultural influence is exerted strongly, as
in the Aegean. Even when actual inflorescences are shown,^
the details and variations of each type are conveyed meticu-
lously.
Another graphic expression of the quest for permanence and
certainty, of the effort to conquer death and destruction, is
found in the proclivity of the Egyptian artist to repeat units
of a design over and over a g a i n ^ in much the same way that the
architect arranged rows and rows of columns in the hypostyle
halls of the great temples. By sheer repetition, the continu-
ity of the object could be assured. This mode of reiteration
finds prolific expression in the fine arts of the New Kingdom,
especially in the second half of the Eighteenth Dynasty. For
example, the inlaid lid of a chest of Tutankhamen depicts a
series of plant columns with four detailed floral capitals; an
ivory ointment spoon with a quatrefoil columnar handle has a

series of four flowers and fruits with leaves along the

u 59
shaft.
The sacredness of vegetation in Egypt is expressed mytho-
logically and ritually in the characterization of Osiris, who
is perhaps basically a water deity in the special sense of the
water as source of fertility for the soil.®® In this way he
becomes associated intimately with vegetative life itself and
variously is linked with grain, with the persea and the syca-
more, and with the acacia trees that grow in the eastern Delta.
The most ancient symbol of this deity, who almost can be called
a tree god, is the so-called Djed or "Stability" column. This
emblem, presumably arising in the Delta home of Osiris, was
perhaps his only embodiment in the earliest periods.®"'"
The Djed symbol represents the transformation of a tree to
a sacred post. In its classic form (figs. 56, 57), supposedly
representing a tree with lopped-off branches, it has the
110

appearance of a pillar with four superimposed ledges or capi-

62
tals, one above the other. The idea it presents is that in
standing firmly upright, it affirms the existence of living
plants and of all life; to be upright is to be alive, to defy
the inert forces of death and decay. The cultic setting of
the Djed symbol is related closely to the myth of Osiris; the
Djed is set upright on the day of his rebirth, at the time of
the annual renewal of nature.
Osiris and the Djed are not the only theomorphic expres-
sions of vegetative life in Egypt. At least three goddesses,
Nut, Nathor, and Isis, have the satiation
64 of the living with
fruit and water amongst their roles. This particular func-
tion of the goddesses takes inconographic form beginning in the
Eighteenth Dynasty in the peculiar-looking tableaux in which
the partly dendromorphic goddesses stretch out their arms from
the midst of the branches of a tree, proferring food and
drink.® 5 The trees in such renderings are naturalistic, with
no sense of artificiality being conveyed; in other words, a
mythological rather than a cultic statement is being made.

Summary

Throughout its long and illustrious history, Egypt devel-

oped and maintained a culture that was typified by conserva-
tivism and conventionalism in its methods of artistic and ar-
chitectural expression. Because of the essential unity of
this culture, subject to relatively little change or deviation
as the result of foreign incursions, we have been able to view
the Egypt material as something of an organic whole, despite
the obvious limitations of such an approach in terms of missing
the distinctive developments and nuances of each definable
phase within the whole. Even so, it has been possible to cap-
ture the ways in which the Egyptians treated plant life.
The outstanding Egyptian reaction to the problem of the
transience of vegetative existence was to render such existence
permanent by executing trees and plants and flowers in stone-
work, specifically in the columnation which was an important
and symbolic part of all the enduring stone edifices of the
Nile Valley. A column became a tree or plant rendered eternal.
 Ill

In the same way, repetition of elements can be recognized as a

contribution towards a sense of permanency.
The naturalistic style of Egyptian art precluded the for-
mation of an identifiable stereotyped way to depict the essen-
tial fructifying nature of divinity, witness the manner in
which vegetative goddesses are portrayed. The one exception to
this is the Osirian Djed symbol, which may have possibly a Sem-
itic origin. In any case, the vegetative aspect of the nature
of this god is captured in a tree-pillar emblem, composed of a
column with four superimposed capitals, perhaps representing
lopped-off branches.

C. Syria-Palestine

In turning to the Syro-Palestinian and then the eastern

Mediterranean area, we are dealing with what can be termed per-
ipheral regions with respect to many aspects of the material
culture. In glyptic matters especially, indigenous productions
can rarely if ever be said to have developed a purely native
style unaffected by trends in Mesopotamia, the true homeland of
the cylinder seal.®^ Of course, the further one moves from the
epicenter of origin, the more localized in nature do the glyp-
tic styles become. They also become more susceptible to artis-
tic influences from foreign sources other than those which gave
rise to the prototypical forms in their home territory.
Syria, because of its proximity to the source, had a long
and rich tradition of cylinder art. There is even one point in
the history of Syrian glyptic when it achieved its own distinc-
tive properties and refinements, viz., during the cultural
vacuum created by the collapse of the First Dynasty of Akkad.
The sequence of seal groups produced in Syria has been desig-
nated by the somewhat unfortunate and misleading term "Syro-
fi 8
Hittite." Palestine, on the other hand, generally adopted
foreign styles, either by way of actual imports or by means of
local copies.^® The locally-made seals generally can be dif-
ferentiated from imported ones by the greater occurrence of
Egyptianizing t e n d e n c i e s . T h i s is especially true during the
Hyksos period, in which the linear style employed in Hyksos
scarabs was imitated in Palestinian cylinders.
112

Without reviewing the full scope of Syro-Hittite seals, it

can be brought out that as a derivative style it developed and
changed at a pace with its Mesopotamian source. Therefore, all
the innovations and variations discussed above concerning the
portrayal of the sacred tree in Mesopotamia can be found to be
mirrored in the contemporary glyptic of the Syro-Palestinian
region. The local culture asserted itself mainly in details of
dress or equipment or in purely decorative additions, while
thematic formulations consistently remained much as they ap-
peared in their Mesopotamian prototypes.
There is relatively little in the Syro-Hittite group it-
self that is of direct interest to our theme. A variety of the
contemporary expressions of the sacred tree theme on Mesopotam-
ian seals can be found. For example, in the first Syrian group
(early 2nd millennium) an offering scene includes a Sumerian
72
type stand holding a branch and fruit, and a presentation
scene includes a subsidiary tableau of two antithetical animals
73
flanking a sacred tree. In the second Syrian period (mid-2nd
millennium), we find artificial-looking columns, some with fol-
iage in the form of six upward-reaching pedicels and a central
axis as well as some with no foliage at all; a pair of human or
part-human figures flanks such columns and a winged solar disc
74
surmounts them. Similar seals appear :n the third Syrian
group (end of 2nd millennium), with Egyptianizing tendencies
being stronger and a return to animals
75 rather than humans or
deities in the heraldic groupings.
The much more limited corpus of Palestinian seals can
likewise be divided into three types, on purely stylistic rath-
er than chronological criteria, however.76 First are the Syro-
Hittite seals of all periods described above. Next come the
seals with Egyptianized designs formed by the same techniques
used for cutting scarabs and no doubt engraved by the same
craftsmen responsible for the countless debased scarabs and
scaraboids found on Palestinian sites especially from strata
dating to the Hyksos period.
These Egyptianized seals and scarabs show some interesting
variations from their purely Egyptian models. Plant forms on
true Egyptian
lotiform, scarabs tend
papyriform, to be naturalistic
or composite portrayals
floral types. of
77 However,
 113

beginning in the Hyksos period, scarabs and scarab-type seals

in Egypt and in Palestine (fig. 58) begin to exhibit plant de-
signs in combination with antithetical figures, usually ani-
78
mals, and occasionally even with a winged solar symbol. Be-
cause of the limited size of the available field in scarabs,
the designs are frequently reduced (fig. 59) to a single animal
79
and a branch. The plant forms on such seals invariably are
stylized, consisting of a longish axis with a series of pedi-
cels in pairs extending along its length.
The third type consists of Mitannian seals which are not
identifiably different from Mitannian seals found in Syria.
This group constitutes by far the largest proportion of seals
produced by excavations of Palestinian sites. The majority of
them tend to be from the 14th and 13th centuries, i.e., the
Late Bronze II period, though a few
8 0 are somewhat earlier.
Among the Palestinian group executed in common Mitannian
style, by far the most popular theme (fig. 60) is that of two
antithetical animals (antelopes?), often with heads reversed,
flanking a branch with (usually) seven globular objects repre-
senting fruit. The branch often appears to be resting upon a
stand with two or three bands or 81
molding at the top. Two in-
teresting examples from Lachish, obviously cut in Palestine
because of the scaraboid technique and layout but treating a
Mitanni-type theme, depict the seven-ball branch resting on a
triangular base, perhaps a much-reduced mountain (fig. 61). In
82
another Lachish seal, the familiar Mitanni-type animals flank
a debased branch surmounted by a winged solar disc. Finally, a
purely local type
oT based on Mitannian style appears in two other
Lachish seals which picture a single caprid of the ibex fam-
ily, an extremely roughly-drawn figure, and schematic inflor-
esences, in one case verticillate and the other case decussate.
Contemporary with the interest in the fructifying theme of
animal and tree expressed in seals of the Late Bronze Age comes
another expression of much the same theme. The motif of tree
flanked by two antithetical animals (fig. 62) is the most char-
acteristic decoration of painted Palestinian pottery of the
same period, appearing on a wide and varied range of ceramic
forms. 8 4 The very limited repertoire of designs—chiefly the
114

animal/tree motif—indicates that the artisans were not drawing

impartially on natural themes but rather were intent upon con-
veying the particular theme of the fruitfulness of plant life
by showing animals being nourished thereby.
86
It was L. H. Vincent who first pointed out that the or-
igins of this theme, appearing on pottery designs of Egypt and
the Aegean as well as of Syria-Palestine, must be sought in the
heraldic Chaldeo-Elamite presentations of the beginning of the
3rd millennium. Its appearance upon Palestinian pottery is
thus seen as the result of a slow, steady diffusion of Chaldeo-
Elamitic graphic ideas from the Persian Gulf area towards the
Mediterranean. Even the appearance of this motif
8 7 in Egypt and
the Aegeo-Cretan sphere seems to be intrusive.
The motif makes its first appearance on the wares of the
Bichrome Style of LB I. The shoulders of these vessels bear
metopic divisions enclosing panels upon which the designs are
executed. This ware has sometimes been called 'Ajjul Ware be-
cause of its abundance at Tell el 'Ajjul, south of Gaza, its
patterns of distribution, and its not infrequent incorporation
of sea motifs
OQ (water birds and fish) into the basic tree-caprid
design. The ware continues into the LB II period, with the
designs becoming somewhat more schematic. In one case a solar
89
symbol appears next to the tree.
Some examples of the motif persist on pottery in the Iron
I and even the Iron II periods. In general, the forms from the
end of the LB II and later are quite debased. Just as in the
Egyptianized seals and scarabs that bear this motif, the degen-
erate designs appear in an abbreviated pars pro toto manner.
In such cases, usually the tree stands alone as the conveyor of
the message.
Just what message this motif is intended to carry is a
moot point. As a general indicator of fertility, its meaning
is quite clear: the tree providing nourishment can hardly be
interpreted otherwise. The flourishing of plant life, the
basis for the survival of animal and human life, was under-
stood as signifying divine presence and favor. However, any
attempt to set this motif within a specific mythological or
90
ritual or cultic context can be misleading. This is not to
 115

deny that it had such significance but rather to warn against

trying to identify the particular context without direct liter-
ary evidence, something which is essentially non-existent.
With respect to the actual graphic form taken by the tree
on Palestinian pottery, it must be said that representations of
the date palm—albeit highly conventionalized in most instances
91
—predominate; linear or curvilinear representations of date
clusters more than the depictions of foliage (as in fig. 62)
make that clear. However, there are examples in which a gener-
al statement of the existence of plant life is made without re-
gard to particular species. In such cases the usual styliza-
tion (fig. 63) consists of three (or more) pairs of "branches"
92
arranged in opposite verticillate fashion on a central axis.
Even when palm trees seem to be clearly intended, i.e., when
clusters of fruit appear, the foliation is nonetheless often
indicated by such a device. This last datum raises the possi-
bility that date palms per se are not necessarily the model.
Rather, the chief concern is the portrayal of plant life with
fruit, and the indicator of plant life is non-specific 93
even
though the indicator of fruit may be species-specific.

Summary

The Syro-Palestinian evidence is limited insofar as re-

mains of artistic expression in general are scanty indeed when
compared with the legacy of Mesopotamia and Egypt. However, in
the northern Syrian area, a style that is derivative and yet
individualistic appeared and evolved over an extended period of
time in the form of Syro-Hittite glyptic. But no such develop-
ment can be claimed for Palestine. It cannot be taken lightly,
therefore, that whenever the local population undertook to pro-
duce depictive art of its own—albeit under influence of for-
eign cultural contacts—the motif that dominates, whether on
seals, scarabs, or ceramics, is that of fructifying plant life.
The Mitannian influence, vehicle of the more ancient Chaldeo-
Elamite theme, was particularly strong. The branch with seven
balls appears frequently on Palestinian seals. This cannot be
separated ideographically from the stylized forms appearing on
the painted pottery of the Late Bronze Age. The scene as a
116

whole bears the same theme; the tree or branch, when stylized,
is expressed in similar fashion.

D. Aegean
The history of glyptic art on Cyprus closely parallels the
development in the Levant. Cylinders rarely appear at all un-
til the intensification of contacts with Syria and Palestine
during the Late Bronze Age. During this period of some four-
five hundred years, the seals that are found are of two main
94
types: 1) those of Syro-Hittite or Mitanni style, either
imported or locally produced, and 2) those of distinctive Cyp-
riote style though incorporating foreign elements.
The former type has been dealt with sufficiently above, so
we concentrate on the specifically Cypriot productions. These
can be further subdivided into an elaborate style, character-
ized by the care with which they are designed and executed, and
a common style, consisting of archaic-looking, very angular de-
signs. Both the imported seals and the elaborate Cypriot ones
bear the familiar tree design positioned
95 between antithetical
animals or animal-human figures. The trees m such examples
are often fanciful composite types. Egyptianizing forces per-
haps may be seen in the preference (fig. 64) for composite ani-
mals and in one peculiar form of the life-plant marked by
curving branches at the bottom and middle and surmounted by
short radiating lines.9
The Cypriot common style (figs. 65, 66, 67) is a class by
97
itself. The art is very crude and archaic-appearing in its
treatment of forms. The groupings of objects rarely are inte-
grated into a coherent pattern; rather an assortment of symbols
floats somewhat haphazardly in the field. The human figures
which are present in every case seem very archaic and rudely
engraved: the frequent occurrence of a bird-shaped head is rem-
iniscent of Egyptian tendencies. That a worship scene is in-
tended is indicated by 1) the fact that the human figure—or
one of them, if two are present—is frequently in a seated
position much like the seated deities known in Mesopotamian
glyptic, 2) the commonly uplifted position of the arms of the
standing figures, and 3) the appearance of a tree alone, with-
out heraldic animals.
 117

The rendering of the sacred tree is fairly uniform on

98
these seals and bears close resemblance to the more stylized
examples on Palestinian ceramics. A series of paired branches
— t h r e e pairs are most common, but as many as eight pairs can
be f o u n d — r i s e from a central axis. The lower branches tend to
be somewhat longer than the upper ones in the instances when
they are not all of equal length, but in no case do all termi-
nate at the same level. The appearance of as many as eight
pairs gives the impression of a stalk of grain rather than a
tree; if such is the case, those with fewer pairs may be abbre-
viated stalks, especially on those seals where no extended axis
or stem projecting downward is indicated.
The treatment of the stem, where one appears, is somewhat
varied: there is one example of a bulbous base common to many
of the Mitanni ball-branches; there is one tripodal root-like
arrangement (fig. 67) perhaps prefiguring developments in metal
stands in later Cypriot tradition; but the most usual depiction
outside of an utterly plain axis is the appearance of a series
of ledges or projections (figs. 65 and 66), often four in num-
ber, on a stand-like stem.
That the fruitful nature of the tree is to be conveyed can
be determined by the not infrequent occurrence of extremely
stylized fruit clusters and by the 99
one rare occurrence on an
example of much more refined style of antithetical c a p n d a e .
However, unlike the development in Palestinian ceramics in
which the animals are omitted in a degenerate pars pro toto
trend, the omission in Cypriot seals of the zoologic element
of the heraldic grouping seems to occur because a cultic scene
and hence an artificial tree is intended.
Some of the other elements "floating" in a somewhat random
manner in the field of these seals bear mention (again, see
figs. 65, 66, 67). Bucrania and snakes are nearly ubiquitous,
perhaps indicating ties toward the west with Crete. Various
strange-looking but probably celestial symbols appear, viz.,
concentric circles like those that denote the sun on Egyptian
scarabs, and a curious four-pointed object that appears to be
astral. 1 0 0 Other emblems are even more obscure, though one
shovel-shaped object has been interpreted as an Egyptian hiero-
, v. sam, meaning
glyph, • i.union.
• ..101
118

In treating the Aegean evidence we have dealt exclusively

with Cyprus, the iconographic material there being directly
relevant to the Syro-Palestinian data in the treatment of ar-
boreal themes. However, in both Mycenean and Minoan cults the
sacred tree seems to have occupied some sort of important posi-
tion which was expressed in the post and pillar. Arthur Evans,
in his study and evaluation of this theme, suggested close cor-
respondences with Semitic practices associated with asherim and
102
maf^eboth. Certainly the appearance of paired animals along
with the tree or pillar''"®^ would support an eastern origin for
at least the graphic expression of Minoan-Mycenean ideas.

Summary

The information from the eastern Mediterranean area comes

chiefly from Cyprus, where a glyptic group from the Cypriot
Late Bronze Age furnishes evidence of a tradition for portray-
ing plant life that is closely related to the Syro-Palestine
evidence. Stylized trees, often similar to those painted on
Late Bronze Age ceramics from Palestine, constitute ubiquitous
motifs on seals of the common Cypriot style. Unlike the pot-
tery designs, the Cypriot seals depict cultic scenes in which
the plant form seems to represent an artificial device. How-
ever, given its relationship to the heraldic arrangements on
Cypriot elaborate and imported seals, the fructifying theme can
be assumed to be present just the same. The presence of celes-
tial symbols in the Cypriot cultic scenes likewise is to be
noted.

III. Conclusions

The foregoing inquiry into the iconographic representa-

tions of the sacred tree in the ancient Near East has revealed
a remarkable persistence of certain themes. These themes as-
sumed graphic forms which likewise persisted for millennia,
constituting a symbolic expression of the creative and sustain-
ing divine principles which could be found in plant life. The
widespread and long-lived nature of such forms indicate their
valid position within the symbolic lingua franca of the ancient
Semitic world.
 119

A consideration of some of the details of such forms has

revealed that there is a close morphological connection between
the arboreal expressions on ancient seals and monuments and the
branched form assumed by the superstructure, as it were, of the
tabernacle menorah, which consisted of three pairs of branches
issuing forth in pairs of two from a central axis. This is
precisely the form taken by the quintessential stylized tree or
branch in the Mesopotamian, Aegean, and Syro-Palestinian re-
gions. Whereas there are various modes for expressing stylized
plant life throughout Mesopotamian history, it is precisely in
the Late Bronze Age that a specific six-branches-plus-one-axis
form not only comes to dominate, with the ascendancy of Mitanni
culture, but is also disseminated throughout the eastern Medi-
terranean island and coastal areas.

These areas produced native glyptic art almost exclusively

during the Late Bronze period; and the dominant motif in these
native productions is unquestionably the "sacred tree" as de-
veloped from Mitanni prototypes. The same can be said for the
decoration which flourished on a type of painted pottery which
appears in Palestine and also in Egypt and the Aegean to some
extent in the Late Bronze Age. Again, the chief motif is a
stylized tree or plant, often expressed as six branches plus a
central axis.
The context of such dendritic appearances varied with the
type of scene portrayed. The prototypical arrangement, going
back to the Elamite pottery and reliefs, consisted of a tree in
association with antithetical animals and also with celestial
symbols. The animals, in feeding on the foliage or fruit pro-
duced by the tree, conveyed the notion of sustenance provided
by vegetal life, and the celestial emblems indicated the depen-
dence upon light sources in combination with vegetation rooted
in moist soil in order for fertility to be achieved. This
basic triple motif was frequently altered in pars pro toto
fashion to suit mythological or cultic purposes. In other
words, the animals and/or the solar or astral signs would be
eliminated, leaving the plant form alone as conveyor of the
total message. However, the habitual reoccurrence of the total
scene, even in the same periods in which abbreviated scenes
120

were more common, surely implies that the full significance of

the theme was in no way diluted or forgotten by the employment
of only part of the whole.
Despite our tendency to try to identify the stylized
shapes assumed by the tree throughout the history of its ap-
pearance on Near Eastern artifacts with actual species of liv-
ing trees or plants, it is apparent that there is no consistent
way to achieve this. The basic stylized, branched form that
recurs time and again contains within itself the possibility
for representing a whole continuum of botanical species, from
trees to floral forms, from branches to stalks of grain. This
is a measure of the success of the Mesopotamian artist and
those who derived inspiration from him; the stylization of
plant life captured its importance qua living thing. As a re-
sult, the more stylized the form becomes, notably in cultic
contexts and especially during the Late Bronze period, the less
likely it is to indicate a tree per se and the more likely it
is to represent a branch or folious element thereof. Hence,
whatever species may have been the natural model at some point
in its artistic history, it is clear that the evolved form is
"supra-specific"; it goes beyond species and in so doing makes
a generalized statement about plant life as a totality.

The six-branch-plus-central-axis arrangement can thus be

seen as a symbolic expression of the existence of sustaining
plant life. That divine power is intimately associated with
and manifested in such life can be assumed from the central
place it occupies in many mythological and cultic tableaux.
One particularly vivid example is found in the convention of
using pairs of branches (usually three plus three) on a central
element, namely, the deity itself, to express the essence of
certain divinities. The particular nature of the deity was
conveyed graphically by vegetal branches, sun rays, water
streams, or weapons protruding in dendritic fashion from the
body of the god or from his image.
Not only does the opposite verticillate arrangement of the
branches of the tabernacle menorah find extensive analogy among
plant representations of the ancient Near East, but the very
number of branches, six-plus-one, turns out to be the preferred
 121

arrangement of its parallels. That there is some solar signi-

ficance to this number in the earliest examples cannot be de-
termined. However, by the time of the Mitanni ball-branches
and the coalescence of the seven celestial dots with the seven-
branched staff, the possibility for a solar association ex-
pressed numerically and hence internally, without the addition
of an external symbol such as a winged disc or a crescent, be-
comes strong. The biblical combination of tree form with ac-
tual lamps, i.e. the tabernacle menorah, must be seen against
this background of continued association of plant life and
celestial light.
This study of the treatment of arboreal motifs in Mesopo-
tamian art and in the related derivative styles of the periph-
eral areas has provided a great deal of enlightenment with re-
spect to the six-plus-one form of the tabernacle menorah. But
the Mesopotamian tendency towards stylization of forms and
avoidance of naturalism has failed to contribute any under-
standing of the three-fold repetition of the architectonic ele-
ments on the branches themselves and the four-fold repetition
on the central stand. This is precisely the area in which an
understanding of Egyptian modes of treating natural themes can
be most helpful.
The geographic and climatic situation in Egypt was such
that the continued production of sustaining vegetation was
never the gnawing concern that it was in Mesopotamia and
Canaan. It may have been a fact to be commented upon artisti-
cally, but it never became an overriding issue. Instead, the
problem of man's continued enjoyment of life's blessings in the
period after death made the preservation of plant life in stone
forms, particularly in mortuary temples and in tombs, the chief
way in which Egyptian artistic impulses reacted to the tran-
siency of plant life.
Therefore, the very existence of the ¡¡1ST n n s D element of
the tabernacle menorah as sort of a floral capital reflects
this essentially Egyptian concern. Likewise, the repetition of
elements must be seen against the backdrop of the Egyptian
predilection for repeating themes over and over again as
another way of achieving permanence. Finally, the four-fold
122

sequence of decorative segments of the central stand of the

menorah, which has been shown to have a unity of its own apart
from the branches, can be seen as belonging to the same variety
of ideographic expression as the Djed symbol with its four re-
curring capitals, an expression which already has been encoun-
tered as have the floral capitals as architectonic elements, in
developments among cylindrical stands where Egyptian influence
was greatest.
 NOTES

CHAPTER IV

1
E. 0. James, The Tree of Life (Studies in the History of
Religions, XI), Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1966, is just such a broad
collection, with ample bibliography, of the mythologies and
imageries connected with the sacred tree the world over. See
also Mircea Eliade, Patterns in Comparative Religion, trans.
Rosemary Sheed, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1958, especially
Chapter VIII, pp. 265-326, and bibliography on pp. 327-30. On
a more popular level, Roger Cook's The Tree of Life, London:
Thames and Hudson, 1974, illustrates the various forms taken by
the sacred tree in artistic productions throughout the world.
2
See above, pp. 7-8.
3
Early studies which recognized the sacred power of vege-
tation such as W. Robertson Smith, The Religion of the Semites,
New York: The Meridian Library, 1956 (orig. d.p. 1889), espe-
cially Lecture V, pp. 165-212, and Maurice Farbridge, Studies
in Biblical and Semitic Symbolism, New York: Ktav Publishing
House, Inc., 1970 (orig. d.p. 1923), especially Chapter II, pp.
27-52, failed to see the cosmic implications of the tree.
Since then, historians of religion such as James and Eliade
have written widely about this matter, see above, n. 1, and
below, n. 4. E. A. S. Butterworth, The Tree at the Havel of
the Universe, Berlin: Wlater de Gruyter, 1970, also treats this
subject extensively.
4
Images and Symbols, p. 44.

^The more general term "sacred tree" will be employed

herein with the demurrer that it need not always refer to a
tree as such but rather can indicate any plant form. Also, the
possibility always exists that the Tree of Life motif is to be
subsumed under that designation.

®This designation is applied by Eliade, Patterns in Com-

parative Religion, p. 278. We shall omit the Indian sphere.
7
See ibid., p. 324. Eliade also points out, p. 265, that
the important role of the tree at the level of popular piety
does not exhaust its depth and wealth of meaning at higher
ideational and cultic levels.
Q
We adopt botanical terminology for purely descriptive
reasons at this point. The classification of inflorescences is
particularly useful because by its very nature it is more de-
tailed than the tripartite typology of the branching structure
of tree crowns. Any good handbook of botany can be consulted
for description and illustration of the common types of inflor-
escences; see, e.g., Lyman Benson, Plant Classification, Bos-
ton: D. C. Heath & Company, Inc., 1957, especially Chapter VII.
For comparison, a description of crown formation can be found

123
124

in Fred W. Emerson, Basic Botany, New York: Blakiston Company,

Inc., 1954 (2nd ed.), p. 114.
9
Helene Danthine, Le palmier-dattier et les arbres sacres
dans l'iconographie de l'Asie occidentale ancienne (Biblio-
thèque archéologique et historique, XXV), Paris: Librairie
Orientaliste Paul Geuthner, 1937, p. 29, draws on the axiom of
the persistence of themes to propose that earlier monuments can
be elucidated by later ones. But note the cautionary remarks
of Goff, Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia, p. xxxvi, who
urges the greatest circumspection in using materials of the
later periods to draw inferences concerning earlier ones. The
remarks of both these scholars, however, seem to relate to the
mythological contexts of symbols, which indeed cannot be treat-
ed uniformly.

^Ameisenova, p. 326, observes that "no other symbol (ex-

cept the Cross, itself a tree), has been the subject of so much
published research." In one seventeen year period alone,
twelve monographs on the subject appeared. Danthine has an
encompassing bibliography, pp. 215-23, that is concerned with
all aspects of representations of the date palm and also with
representations of trees in general. Works dealing with some
of the problems of relating monuments to texts can be found in
the extensive bibliography of Geo Widengren, The King and the
Tree of Life in Ancient Near Eastern Religion: King and Savior,
IV (Uppsala Universitets Arsskrift 1951:4), Uppsala: A.-B.
Lundequistska Bokhandeln, 1951:4, pp. 71-77.

"'""'""Les representations de l'arbre sacré sur les monuments

de Mésopotamie et de l'Élam," Babyloniaca XVII (1937), pp. 5-
144.
12
See ibid., pp. 23-24.
13 Discussed in ibid., p. 27.

14
Ibid., p. 30. See examples 8-11 on PI. 3 and 15a and b
on PI. 4, where the eagle with outspread wings above or near
the tree replaces the explicit astral sign.
15
A 1 1 three symbols appear in SCWA, figs. 59 and 66.
16
N o t e that the animals (perhaps antelopes, so SCWA, p.
38) do not appear in the cult scene but that the lower register
preserves their presence.

"^It is interesting to see how Ward (SCWA) at first inter-

prets such projections as flames, perhaps because of their as-
sociation in some seals (see below, p. 100 and n. 23), with the
flaming god Shamash. Eventually, however, he tends—correctly,
we b e l i e v e — t o regard such cases as the plant of life; see pp.
235 and 362.
18
In fig. 47, astral symbols are present, along with ani-
mals, mountain, and tree. See also Perrot, "Les representa-
tions de l'arbre sacré," Pl. 6:20, 21, 22, and H. Frankfort,
Cylinder Seals, London: Macmillan and Co., 1939, PI. XVII:h.
 125

19
For the tree as terminal motif, see Briggs Buchanan,
Catalogue of Ancient Near Eastern Seals in the Ashmolean Mu-
seum, Vol. I. Cylinder Seals, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966,
PI. 28:360-3 and p. 67; as a central motif, see Buchanan, PI.
28:364-66 and p. 67.
20
Cf. Edith Porada, Corpus of Ancient Near Eastern Seals
in North American Collections, Vol. I. Collection of the Pier-
pont Morgan Library (Bollingen Series, XIV), Washington: Pan-
theon Books, 1948 (2 pts., text and plates), p. 26.
21
Pairs of two or four branches, or asymetrical combina-
tions, also exist. See, e.g., SCWA, fig. 374, L. Legrain, "Gem
Cutters in Ancient Ur," MJ XX (1929), PI. XXXVI:77, 78, and
Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XX:e,k.
22
SCWA, fig. 386. The goddess may be Xshtar or one of her
Great Mother prototypes, Gula or Bau.
23
There are countless examples. See SCWA, figs. 251-54;
Legrain, "Gem Cutters," PI. XXIV: 65, 66, 69, PI. XXV.-74, 75;
Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XVIII:a, b, g, k; and Porada,
PI. XXVIII:178-183, PI. XXIX:184-194.
24
See also Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XXV:f. This ex-
ample is from the Ur III Dynasty, only slightly later than the
Akkadian period. SCWA preserves a host of other examples from
all periods (figs. 407-417), all with six weapons in pairs of
two rising from the goddess' shoulders and terminating on either
side of her face.
25
SCWA, figs. 283-290, is a series of such depletions,
mostly from the Akkadian period. See also Porada, Pis. XXX:
196-198, XXXI:199-204, all from the period of Akkad.
^ 6 Seated Ishtar, with three pairs of weapons, also appears
in this scene.
27 . . . .
The god is identified as Enki by Legrain, Gem Cutters,
p. 291; see PI. XXXV:76.
28
Cf. Ameisenowa, p. 335. It also can be seen as a mani-
festation of the upper extension of the cosmic tree into the
heavens.
29 ,
See Perrot, "Les representations de l'arbre sacre," PI.
5:17 (a playing box from Ur of shell inlaid upon bitumen and
containing five separate animal-mountain-tree scenes), 18, 19,
and p. 37.
30
E . g . , SCWA, fig. 264.
31
See Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, pp. 147-55.
32
Ibid., pp. 156-68.
126

33 See the classification of Perrot, "Les representations

de l'arbre sacre," p. 70, and the examples on Pis. 12, 13, and
14. See also Porada, PI. LXXXII: 592, 594.
34
We say branch as opposed to tree because the deposition
of fruit or flowers only can be achieved in relation to a
branch of the tree and not to the tree as a whole, as is the
deposition of leaves.
35
E.g., Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, Pis. XXX:c, d, XXXI:e,
and text-fig. 50, p. 184; Porada, Pis. CLIII: 1006, CLIV.-1012,
1013, CLV:1016; and G. Contenau, La Glyptique Syro-Hittite,
Paris: Librairie Orientaliste Paul Geuthner, 1922, PI. XXXVI:
259, 273.
3
®E.g., Moortgat, PI. 68:568, 569; Contenau, La Glyptique,
PI. XXXVI:264, 270, 271; and Porada, PI. CLIII: 1007, 1008.
37
See n. 10 and below, Chap. V, p. 147 and n. 57.
lo
Pp. 62-63.
39
So E. Douglas Van Buren, The Seven Dots in Mesopotamian
Art and Their Meaning," AfO 13 (1939-41), p. 277. She proposes
that their pre-Babylonian existence was related to the use of
seven incantation stones for casting lots or for divination;
see p. 278 and textual references in nn. 12-15.
40
*°E.g., SCWA, fig. 665; Porada, PI. LXXXII: 592, 594; and
Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XXXII: b, c, d.
41
The ritual nature of the tree, which has been the sub-
ject of much scholarly discussion, was perhaps first pointed
out by Sidney Smith, "Notes on the Assyrian Tree," BSOS 4
(1926), pp. 69-76.
4
^This tree is the fruit tree par exaellenae of the
Tigris-Euphrates Valley. In addition, the palm is the only
tree which, with one exception, is entirely unbranched. See
E. J. H. Corner, The Natural History of Palms, London: Weiden-
feld and Nicolson, 1966, p. 82. Thus the columnar nature of
its trunk stands out sharply, and the variety of inflorescences
as well as the foliage and fruit it produces provide ample
models for the fanciful artistic developments which ensued.
43
E . g . , SCWA, figs. 679, 688, 689, 696, 707; and Perrot,
"Les representations de l'arbre sacre," Pis. 18, 19, 20, 21,
etc.
44
As in SCWA, fig. 697.
45
The appearance of Assur in a winged sun disc has been
explained by Frankfort, Art and Architecture, pp. 66-67, as
being derived from the Egyptian iconography of Horus, or alter-
nately as a derivation from the Sumerian lion-headed eagle
Imdugud. Perhaps both divine forces are present. "Once
again," as Frankfort remarks, "the complex origins of Assyrian
 127

art present a problem which cannot as yet be solved." For ex-

amples of this symbol hovering over the sacred tree, see Frank-
fort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XXXIII: a, e, h; and Porada, Pis.
XCIII and XCIV.
46
See the evaluation of Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, espe-
cially Chapter III, "The Neo-Babylonian and Persian Cylinders,"
pp. 217-23.
47
For a discussion of seven," see Farbridge, pp. 119-39;
see also the brief update, pp. XLI-XLV and nn. 102-112, given
by May in his "Prolegomenon" to Farbridge.
48
Cf. Frankfort, Ancient Egyptian Religion, New York:
Columbia University Press, 1948, p. 150.
49
Cf. W. S. Smith, Art and Architecture, p. 33.

""^Frankfort, Ancient Egyptian Religion, p. 151.

^
52S e e W. S. Smith, Art and Architecture , p. 2.
See Alexander Badawy, Architecture in Ancient Egypt and
the Near East, Cambridge: M.I.T. Press, 1966, p. 69. Because
of this triumph of ideographic significance, the Egyptian ar-
chitect could never look critically at the organic relationship
between the columns and the structural load they carried. As a
result, in the eyes of many architectural critics, Egyptian
buildings must be deemed aesthetic failures despite their
quintessential elegance and their technological achievements.
For an excellent discussion of the ideographic concerns that
dominated Egyptian architecture, see E. B. Smith, Egyptian Ar-
chitecture as Cultural Expression, especially Chapter XI, pp.
240-56.
53
E. B. Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Expres-
sion, p. 249. Further, p. 253, Smith calls this attitude a
petrification of the animistic stage of cultural development in
which man is convinced of the potency of his imagery.
54
Badawy, Fig. 10, illustrages some of the varieties of
columnation.
. E. B. Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Ex-
pression, p. 241.

Decorative Patterns of the Ancient World, London: BSAE

and Bernard Quaritch, 1930. See especially Pis. IX, X, XI.

Ibid., PI. IX, lower left, a series of drawings from

Amratian Egypt.
58
So E. B. Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Ex-
pression, p. 247.
59
The inlaid chest is PI. 151 and the spoon is PI. 152b
in W. S. Smith, Art and Architecture.
128

A classic discussion of Osiris' characterization can be

found in James Henry Breasted, Development of Religion and
Thought in Ancient Egypt (Harper Torchbook, TB 57), New York:
Harper and Row, Publishers, 1959 (orig. ed. 1912), pp. 18-28.
Osirian ritual is described in Margaret A. Murray, The Osireion
at Abydos (Egyptian Research Account, IX), London: Bernard
Quaritch, 1904, especially Chapter VI, "The Worship of Osiris,"
pp. 25-34. Perhaps the most extensive treatment of Osiris can
be found in E. A. Wallis Budge, Osiris and the Egyptian Resur-
rection, 2 vols., London: Medici Society Ltd., 1911.
6
^"So Budge, 1:37. The Delta home of Osiris, along with
some details of his mythology, has led some scholars to posit a
Syrian origin; see, e.g., Samuel A. B. Mercer, The Religion of
Ancient Egypt, London: Luzac and Co., 1948, pp. 99, 107. See
also James, p. 38.
62
S e e Budge, Vol. I, pp. 51:1, 2, 3; 52:1, 2, 3; 53:2; and
56: top. In many cases, Osiris' body is incorporated into the
symbol: his arms come out of it; it constitutes the trunk of
his body; it is superimposed upon his head, or his eyes peer
out from one of the capitals.

®^So T. Rundle Clark, Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt,

London: Thames and Hudson, 1959, p. 236.
64
See M. L. Buhl, "Goddesses of the Egyptian Tree Cult,"
JNES 6 (1947), pp. 96-97.
65
E . g . , Danthine, Pis. 158:955 and 159:956.

®®We use this term only in a relative sense, i.e., in com-

paring Egyptian culture with its great continuity to the more
convulsed history of other areas of the ancient world; we in no
way mean to detract from the diversity of the culture or mini-
mize the upheavals that did occur. Such difficulties in form-
ing a coherent perception of Egyptian civilization, especially
in the last thirty-forty years, are noted by John A. Wilson,
"Egyptian Culture and Religion," BANE, pp. 298f.

®^See Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, p. 224. Because of the

primal influence of Mesopotamian technique and design, he calls
all seals not produced in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley "deriva-
tive. "

® 8 See ibid., p. 225, for a discussion of this term and its

ethno-historical implications. A rather complete classifica-
tion and analysis of this group may be found in Contenau, La
Glyptique. Of course the treatment in Frankfort, Chapter VI
("The Derivative Styles of the Ancient Near East"), is program-
matic .
69
M o s t cylinders found in Palestine are of Syrian or Mi-
tanni style; see the study of Jean Nougayrol, Cylindres sceaux
et empreintes de cylindres trouvés en Palestine (Bibliothèques
archéologiques et historiques, XXXIII), Paris: Paul Geuthner,
1939.
 129

70
Porada, p. 118, states that she uses this consideration
in the classification as Palestinian of certain seals of dub-
ious provenance.

^ S y r o - H i t t i t e seals are divided into three groups on

stylistic and chronological grounds related to varying Meso-
potamian influences at various periods. See the discussions
of Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, pp. 252-58 and Porada, pp. 117-
18 and 123-24. The third group is admittedly ill-defined and
perhaps is better assigned, with Porada, to the group of uncer-
tain provenance.
72
Frankfort, Cylinder Seals, PI. XLI:i.

Ibid., PI. XLI:f.

7i
Ibid., Pis. XLII:e, i, k and XLIV:h, k. The influence
of Mitannian glyptic is already present.
7S
Ibid., PI. XLV:i, k, n.
76
S e e Barbara Parker, "Cylinder Seals: PI. XXXIII: Notes,"
Lachish II, The Fosse Temple, by Olga Tufnell et al, London:
Oxford University Press, 1940, pp. 71-72.
77
See Sir Flinders Petrie, Buttons and Design Scarabs
(BSAE, 38), London: Bernard Quaritch, 1925, Pis. VIII:172-196,
X ("Scarabs with Plants and Signs"): 375-422.
78
E . g . , Flinders Petrie, Beth Pelet I (BSAE, 48), London:
Bernard Quaritch, 1930, Pis. VII:18, 21, XII:148, XLVIII:549,
564. Alan Rowe 1 s work, A Catalogue of Egyptian Scarabs (in the
Palestine Archaeological Museum), Cairo: Imprimerie de l'lnsti-
tut Francais, 1936, is helpful here; see Pis. VII:294, 295,
XXV:SO.2 3.
79
Rowe, Catalogue of Egyptian Scarabs, Pis. XXV:S0.8,
SO.21, SO.31, and VIII:301, 308, 309, 313.
80
T u f n e l l , Lachish II, PI. XXXIIIA S B ; 43 & 49; Gezer
III, Pis. cciia:12, cciib:5, ccxiv:ll, 20, 21; Alan Rowe, "The
Palestine Expedition," MJ 20 (1929), text-fig., p. 42; Gordon
Loud, Megiddo II (OIP, LXII), Plates, Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1948, PI. 161:11, 15, 16.
81
Tufnell, Lachish II, PI. XXXIIIA & B: 47 & 53. The
transformation of the balls into concentric circles, symbols
of the sun, is a probable example of Egyptian influence.
B2
Ibid., PI. XXXIIIA & B:51.
83
Ibid., PI. XXXIIIA S, B: 40, 41.
84
S e e Amiran, pp. 161-62, Pis. 48, 50, Photos 162-66.
Another convenient collection of examples appears in CPP, pot-
tery pis. 27:D9, 31:X2, 44:R2, and decorated fragments pis. 7,
10, 16, and 17.
130

85
S e e Engberg, p. 35.
86
"La peinture ceramiques Palestinienne," Syria V (1924),
pp. 81-107. Perrot, "Les representations de l'arbre sacre,"
develops Vincent's thesis.
87
See Vincent's convincing discussion, pp. 94-98, 98-100.
The Aegeo-Cretan portrayals seem to have priority, with the
Egyptian examples showing signs of being copies rather than
analogues! Vincent's whole discussion of the problem of deter-
mining in which way cultural influences are moving is extremely
perceptive and provocative.
QO
So John Gray, The Canaanites (Ancient Peoples and
Places, 38), London: Thames and Hudson, 1964, p. 99. Its re-
lation to Mycenean pottery and the movements of the Sea Peoples
needs also to be taken into account.
89
On a jar from Megiddo; see Loud, PI. 84:5.
90
H. G. May, "The Sacred Tree on Palestinian Painted Pot-
tery," JAOS LIX (1939), pp. 251-59, attempts to show that the
tree on the ceramics of Palestine is a symbol of the Mother
Goddess.
91
The origin of the representation of the date palm on
this corpus of pottery may be Egyptian. See the series of de-
pictions in Danthine, Pis. 152:937 and 153:939-42.
92
However, even on the ewer of our fig. 63, other metopes
show highly conventionalized palm trees. See J. L. Starkey,
"Excavations at Tell el Duweir, 1933-34," PEF,QS (1934), PI. IX.
^ C o m p a r e the similar phenomenon on the neo-Sumerian liba-
tion altars, where two bunches of dates plus an unidentified
branch are depicted as the essence of fruitfulness.
94
Compare the classifications of Porada, p. 148, and
Buchanan, pp. 186-87.
95
Buchanan, PI. 59:958, 959; Porada, PI. CLXIII:1070-1073;
SCWA, fig. 1170.
96
T h i s was originally taken by Sayce to be the symbol of
the Paphian goddess, so SCWA, p. 347. As a composite plant
form, an Egyptian origin seems likely; the radiating lines in-
dicating leaves are perhaps the stimulus for the elaborate
raquette developments in Assyrian life-tree iconography. A
group of such designs can be found collected in Max Ohnefalsch-
Richter, Kypros, 2 vols, (text and plates), London: Asher and
Co., 1893, p. 30, figs. 14-21. This type is nearly always as-
sociated with heraldic fanciful animals; i.e., it seems to be
a purely Cypriot treatment, under Egyptian influence, of a
Mesopotamian theme!
97
See Alexander Palma diCesnola, Salaminia, London: Whit-
ing & Co., Ltd., 1884 (2nd ed.). Pis. XIII:17, 18, 20, 21, 23,
 CHAPTER V

A TYPOLOGY OF TREE MOTIFS IN ANCIENT ISRAEL

I. Introduction

The foregoing chapter has shown that the tabernacle me-

norah in form and detail belongs to the conventional way for
the sanctity of vegetal life to be depicted at the end of the
Late Bronze Age. The morphological identification of the me-
norah's seven-branched—or rather six-plus-one—form with ar-
boreal expressions on ancient seals and monuments puts it into
the context of the symbolic lingua franca which is concerned
with life themes as they are related to plant life and fertil-
ity. Similarly, the repetition of certain architectonic fea-
tures which are themselves derived from plant forms places the
menorah within the cultural tradition in which the transitory
nature of existence is confronted symbolically by giving artis-
tic permanence to plant forms.
Insofar as the menorah is a cultural expression derived
from conventional themes of Near Eastern symbolic language that
deal with the existence and sanctity of plant life, it is in-
cumbent upon us now to put this information, provided by our
analysis of the menorah's physical attributes—its form and
design—into an ideational setting. The meaning of such life
themes, based on conceptions of vegetal life, must be evaluated
in their biblical setting. That is, the attitude towards plant
life and its particular force upon the mind of biblical man
must be ascertained as a necessary prelude to our ultimate task
of approaching the menorah as a symbol functioning within the
Israelite cult, a task which shall be undertaken in our final
chapter.
There is no direct way in which the thematic value of the
tree motif can be measured. As has already been stated, the
migration of symbols from one culture to the next rarely is
accompanied by the mythology that originally surrounded it.
This is true above all in Israelite religion, with its strong
demythologizing tendencies. Thus we can expect to find no

133
134

texts in which a direct verbal commentary upon the sanctity of

tree life or a symbol thereof is the focus.
Furthermore, by their very nature, the tabernacle texts in
which the graphic tradition of our artifact is conveyed in no
way addresses itself to the ideational tradition lying behind a
cultic symbol. For after all, the mark of a live symbol is its
ability to carry a message on a non-verbal, emotional level;
any explanations which theoretically might attach themselves
are therefore subsidiary to the immediate impact of the symbol
and cannot truly present the full range of associations carried
by the symbol at its primary sensate level. In some sense, the
existence of a potent symbol precludes the existence of an ac-
curate and contemporary commentary thereon.
However, in an indirect way, there is adequate material in
the biblical record as a whole to provide a working understand-
ing of the Israelite conception of and attitude towards plant
life in general and the "sacred tree" specifically. To do
this, we begin with what we have seen to be the crucial theme
of the tree motif in the pagan religions of the ancient Near
East, namely, the life theme, whether it be concentrated upon
the fructifying value of plant life in providing sustenance in
this life or upon the extended value of providing for or repre-
senting continued existence in the hereafter. The primeval
cycle of the beginning of Genesis is the chief literary ground
for such matters as they are confronted in Israelite religion.
But these matters alone do not tell the whole of the story
as it unfolds in biblical literature. And as we turn to the
full scope of the canon as a source, we find that arboreal mo-
tifs are manifested in either of two spheres of presentation,
corresponding to the double dimension which characterizes the
kind of religious history which appears in the Hebrew Bible.1
On the one hand, the formative historical events which Israel
underwent throughout its prehistory and history are catalogued
in the various biblical literary expressions and firmly are
rooted in the geographical and temporal sphere. On the other
hand, these events are filtered through a lens of archetypal
structures so that the facts of historical experience are at
the same time seen in the imagistic sphere.
 135

Insofar as the "sacred tree" belongs to the cosmic para-

digm of the sacred geography of the center,^ it behooves us to
point out the complex of images contained within that paradigm.
The various elements that make up the sacred center, the navel
of the universe, are a cosmic mountain, a paradisiacal garden
on top of that mountain, w a t e r s — u s u a l l y rivers—emanating from
this cosmic source, a sacred tree or trees at the very center
4
of this center, and a guardian. Most of these elements are
found integrated together in the Edenic episodes of Genesis
2-3. They appear repeatedly elsewhere throughout the Bible,
alone or in different combinations; but even where only one or
two elements of the paradigm are found, the power of the total
image lying behind the parts which do appear is expressed in
full force. Furthermore, any one of these constituent parts
can be developed by itself in various ways, as we shall see in
the case of the tree element, and yet by virtue of its ground-
ing in the total paradigm carry with it a full measure of the
cosmic force contained in the complete image.

II. The Eclipse of the Fertility and Immortality Themes

A. The fertility theme

The Bible is basically the product of an agricultural so-

ciety, whatever its pastoral underpinnings may have been. Even
the seminomadic existence which seems to have characterized the
patriarchal era was in every way dependent upon the seasonal
appearance of vegetal growth in the various parts of the Egyp-
tian-Palestinian-Mesopotamian paths that the patriarchs tra-
versed. Thus natural imagery is abundant in the Bible and ap-
pears as a frequent metaphoric vehicle serving all sorts of
purposes. However, in all these instances there is never any
magical or fructifying power associated with plant life itself.
There is no question but that the Lord is the divine power be-
hind the flourishing or non-flourishing of vegetation, and
there is no appeal to any natural aspect of God's being as a
force to be confronted or dealt with in order to secure fertil-
ity. In other words, God has been completely separated from
nature. 6 There is no mythological language involved in the
treatment of natural or fertility themes.
136

This concept is expressed best in the carefully-arranged

creation story of Genesis 1, in which creation by divine fiat
removes the primal generative force from the physical sphere
and places it squarely within God's power. However, in the de-
tails of the creation events of the third day, we can see the
strength that the pagan motifs of the origins of vegetation
must have exerted. Note Gen 1:10-11:

And God said, "Let the earth put forth vegeta-

tion, plants yielding seed, and fruit trees bearing
fruit in which is their seed, each according to its
own kind, upon the earth." And it was so. The earth
brought forth vegetation....And God saw that it was
good.

The unusual situation exists in this account whereby the

immediate subject of God's command is not the object of crea-
tion, vegetation, but rather an intermediary force, earth:
KtB7 VTKH KS1H1 . . . .Kttn y-|Kn Ktinn. This is to be compared with
the modes of expression on all other days of creation in which
God's word acts directly upon the thing to be called into ex-
istence. Even on the fourth day, when the "waters" would seem
to be a mediate force (y-|ffl CPDn lint»-', v. 20; also note 1t»K
D^DH TXIItf in v. 21) , the next verse has God acting directly
upon the creatures of the deep (...CPn^K Likewise, on
the fifth day when the earth is exhorted to produce animal
life (nvi 0S3 y-lKn NSin, v. 24), the following verse makes it
clear that God himself performs the creative act (tBVI
. . .uTl>K) .
Thus the creation of vegetal life stands out in the crea-
tive sequence as being inextricably bound up with the "dry land
Earth," which is not merely a habitat but which somehow shares
intimately with the creative process.' However, despite this
unusual mode of presentation, there is no question but that
God's command is the ultimate source of the creative power;
earth itself has appeared as the result of the utterance of
God's will and is only a vehicle for the presentation of vege-
tation. Indeed, the creation of earth and vegetation on the
same day serves to relegate them to equal positions in the
scheme of creation, both equally dependent upon God's word for
their existence. Thus, the unique situation of the nature of
 137

vegetal life nonetheless is f i t t e d into the overall framework

of creation.
However, the e x i s t e n c e of a mythological setting for vege-
tal life under the s u r f a c e , e v e n in the d e v e l o p e d c o s m o g o n y of
Genesis 1, s h o u l d p e r h a p s b e t a k e n a s a n i n d i c a t i o n of the
strong pull that the nature religions of C a n a a n c o n t i n u e d to
exert upon the people of Israel. This pull is amply e v i d e n t in
the strong anti-Baal polemics found in the Bible, whether such
polemics r e f e r to the a c t u a l w o r s h i p of p a g a n g o d s or to the
i l l i c i t u s e of p a g a n fertility practices in association with
worship of YHWH. Likewise, the agricultural elements in Is-
raelite festivals, despite their historicization, represent
g
accommodations to f e r t i l i t y themes.

B. The immortality theme

The other a s p e c t of the life theme borne by sacred vegeta-

tion in the r e l i g i o n s of the a n c i e n t N e a r E a s t , v v z ., t h e theme
of life eternal, is l i k e w i s e dealt with in the p r i m e v a l cycle
of G e n e s i s , in the E d e n e p i s o d e . A miraculous LP T I M YV from
which one can attain the ability to live forever appears in the
center of the g a r d e n a l o n g w i t h the "tree of k n o w l e d g e of good
and evil." However, the focus of the e n s u i n g story rests un-
deniably with the "tree of knowledge," a tree totally distinct
9
from the life-tree. T h i s s h i f t of e m p h a s i s , in w h i c h n o t even
a prohibition against eating the fruit of the life-tree is part
of the narrative, reflects the biblical a t t e m p t to dissociate
itself from any preoccupation w i t h immortality.''' 0
Nevertheless, this shift in e m p h a s i s in itself indicates
that there existed in I s r a e l ' s m i l i e u and no d o u b t w i t h i n her
own traditions, forces which were working to the c o n t r a r y . U.
Cassuto, for e x a m p l e , in h i s c o m p a r i s o n of G e n e s i s with the
Edenic passages of E z e k i e l , has proposed the thesis that Israel
possessed one or more epic poems concerning the story of the
G a r d e n of E d e n , 1 1 of w h i c h the life-tree was a feature. The
very manner of its p r e s e n t a t i o n in the G e n e s i s account, with
the definite article, serves to indicate a concept which was
w e l l k n o w n a n d c u r r e n t t o t h e a u d i e n c e o f t h e t a l e . 12
138

In addition to the appearance of the life-tree in the

opening chapters of the Pentateuch, it is found elsewhere in
the biblical corpus only in Proverbs. There it has been
called variously a "secularized term or faded metaphor" or a
14
"pale figure of speech. Such characterizations, however, do
not do justice to the fact that the "tree of life" in later
biblical and post-biblical times remained a vivid image as is
evident from its literary preservation in Jewish and Christian
eschatology and wisdom, as in Enoch, Ben Sira, Revelation, 4
Esdras, as well as in certain Mandaean and Manichean sources.
Thus the somewhat dulled impression given in the Proverbs oc-
currences may result from the controlled literary style of this
wisdom source as well as from a reluctance to invoke the full
vividness of the imagery, which certainly carried mythological
overtones.
In any case, the concept presented in Proverbs is part of
the widespread idea, contained in the sapiential sources of
antiquity, in which the life aspect of CPTI W is focused upon
a sense of well-being or health as much as upon immortality.'''6
Note that in Prov 3:18, the use of LPTi YV follows closely upon
the use of DTJii, or well-being, in the previous verse. And in-
deed, the other uses of Q^TI VV in
17 Proverbs certainly deal with
the preservation of health/life. This concept undoubtedly is
presupposed by the "leaves for healing" attribute of the cosmic
trees of Ezekiel 47 (v. 12), which will be further discussed
below.

Summary

This brief treatment of fertility and immortality as ex-

pressed in plant life has shown that both themes seem to be
minimized consciously in biblical literature. Vegetal life in
general is found widely, but only in very natural imagery. It
is chiefly in the primeval cycle of Genesis that the powerful
mythological forces represented by the life-giving nature of
plant life, as known from the religious expressions of Israel's
neighbors, are confronted in any sort of direct way. With re-
spect to fertility, the primacy of God, separate from nature,
is the clear message. In the case of immortality, an emphasis
 139

on the "knowledge of good and evil" and the possession of a

human moral sensibility takes undenied precedence.
Nevertheless, it is apparent that the unique non-mythic
Israelite expression of the forces that the pagan life and fer-
tility trees epitomize is not totally and immediately success-
ful. There is not a radical and permanent breaking-off of such
ideas. The power of the underlying mythic ideas was enormous
18
and is not to be underestimated. It evidently lay beneath
the surface, ready to materialize, for a long time during Is-
rael's history.
Investigation of life and fertility themes alone, however,
does not exhaust the possibility for exploring tree motifs in
biblical sources. On the contrary, there are other aspects
which are removed from the life/fertility confrontation and
which can appear in the open and in a full-blown, developed
manner. When mythological forces of fertility and life are not
in the near background, arboreal motifs in the Bible become the
vehicle for the expression of a variety of concepts in the tem-
poral and imagistic spheres.

III. Theophanous Events Within the Temporal and Geographic

Sphere

We have indicated already that the non-Israelite cultures

of the ancient Near East did not go necessarily so far as to
identify the fertility deity with actual living trees. Even in
their most dendritic iconographic appearances, the deities are
not mistaken for the vehicle of their manifestation. Thus
trees as special places of divine appearance evidently were not
odious to Israelite sensibilities. Rather the cosmic imagery
of the tree at the center came into play. Hence any large
tree, of necessity near a spring or perennial underground
source of water, automatically signified two of the elements of
the cosmic paradigm, of the axis mundi pointing towards God's
presence. In ancient Israel, therefore, divine theophany at or
19
near a large tree was a recurring event. And while we treat
the following events as belonging to the temporal sphere, we
must remember that our typology is not rigid and that these
events would not have "occurred" at all did they not take part
140

in the paradigmatic structure which conditioned the locales of

theophanies.

A. Patriarchal events

The recorded theophanies of the patriarchal period epito-

mize a sort of n a t u r a l — h i s t o r i c a l if you will--theophanous
theme. The example par excellence is the great oak of Moreh
20
at the place (DIpD) at Shechem.
This is Abraham's first
21
stopping place upon entering the land of Canaan. The Lord
appears to him there and promises the land to his descendants,
and in response A b r a h a m builds an altar. The tree there like-
wise held some sort of sacral significance for Jacob, who is
said to have hid the foreign gods of his household "under the
oak which w a s near Shechem."^2

The Shechem tradition continues in the Conquest and M o n a r -

chy periods. The famous covenant ceremony held there under
23
Joshua is culminated by the recording of the covenant and the
setting up of a commemorative stone "under the oak in the sanc-
tuary of the Lord" (verse 26). Later, Abimelech, son of Jerub-
baal, is proclaimed king "by the oak of the pillar at She-
24
chem." Thus, while theophany at Shechem is explicitly evi-
dent only in the Abraham passage, the continued awareness of
the immanence of God at this site is indicated by the repeated
choice of this location for the execution of portentous events
at which God's presence and presumably his sanction would be
desirable.
In addition to the oak of Shechem, Genesis records theoph-
anous events in conjunction with exceptional trees at several
other locales. A b r a h a m is connected w i t h the oak of Mamre at
Hebron where he builds an altar,25 sojourns, and eventually ex-
perier.ces a revelation of God. Further, following his cove-
nant w i t h A b i m e l e c h at Beersheba, Abraham plants (yu'n) a
tamarisk tree there and calls upon the name of the Lord, whose
invoked presence seems to be the concluding touch to the cove-
nant just e n a c t e d . 2 6 Finally, Jacob establishes an altar and
later a pillar at Bethel and calls the place
27 El-Bethel, because
God had revealed himself to Jacob there. The oak of Bethel
parenthetically is introduced to this episode by the insertion
 141

at this point of the brief notice concerning the death of

Deborah, Rebekah's nurse, and her burial under an oak called
28
henceforth Allon-bacuth, Oak of Weeping.

B. Post-patriarchal events

The theophanous theme associated with trees continues to

appear in much the same mode of presentation in the historical
books of the Bible dealing with the post-Conquest periods of
the Judges and the Monarchies. The figure of Deborah the
prophetess, sitting under a palm in the hill country of Ephraim
29
and judging Israel surely belongs to this category. The epi-
sode of Gideon, to whom the Lord appeared at the oak of Ophrah,
30
under which Gideon then built an altar, is another instance.
Also associated with the theophany at the oak of Ophrah is the
appearance of a consuming fire, an image associated with the
manifestation of the glory (T13D) of the Lord at Sinai.
There are several cases in which Saul is associated with
trees, such as the pomegranate tree at Migron
32
near Gibeah and
the tamarisk tree on the height at Gibeah. There is no
record of theophany at these places, but the use of the defin-
ite article in introducing the trees indicates that they were
well-known places and implies that Saul located himself near
them for good reason, that is, to draw himself near to the di-
vine presence which was associated with them. It is interest-
ing to note that in the case of the tree at Gibeah, the addi-
tional information "on the height" is presented, i.e., another
element in the cosmic paradigm is introduced consciously by way
of suggesting the sanctity of the spot.
David, too, is recorded as having experienced God's pres-
ence in conjunction with a location at a certain group of
33
trees. Before the second conflict with the Philistines in
the valley of Rephaim, David inquires of the Lord and receives
military instructions concerning an attack on the Philistines
from the rear. David is to lead his forces to a position "op-
posite the balsam trees (LPK33 >TDD)." When he hears the sound
of "marching" 34 in the tops of the trees, he can be assured of
the Lord's presence with him in battle and thus of his ability
to vanquish the enemy.
142

One further example from the Former Prophets is found in

the account of Elijah in the wilderness. Elijah sat down and
slept under a broom tree at which point the angel of the Lord
appears to him and reappears a second t i m e . ^ There are two
divergent items to be noted about this episode: first, the
broom tree is not preceded by the definite article and thus
there is no indication that this location previously had been
sanctified by God's revealing power; and second, the story is
an immediate prelude to a Sinai-like event on a mountain in-
volving storm and fire in which Elijah participates following
a Mosaic-like period of forty days and forty nights.
In addition to the specific theophanous events chronicled
in the Deuteronomic history, we have the condemning prophetic
reaction to certain cultic practices taking place in Israel "on
every high hill and under every green tree."^® This phrase or
its variants occurs sixteen times in the Bible and appears to
have originated in Hosea, whence it came to Deut 12:2 and
37
thence to Jer 2:20 where it acquired standardized form. The
prophetic response is directed, however, not to the tree/hill
paradigm itself but rather to the practices which were carried
out at such numinous locales. The potency of the site is not
called into question; only the character of the religious ex-
perience taking place there is called to account.
The nature of the cultic practices being carried out "un-
der every green tree" surely was related to the fertility cults
inherent in the popular religion of Canaan. The use of the
38
word '¡JVl (or less commonly, nay or Hilly) is an indication of
such a situation. This word mistakenly is translated "green"
by the RSV and other English and German versions. The ancient
versions variously indicate the description of a tree that is 39
thick with leaves, dense, fruitful, luxuriant, or flourxshing.
However, the lexicons have no satisfactory etymology for the
root, presumably a qatlal form, nor is Winton Thomas' sugges- 40
tion any more convincing than others that have been proferred.
In any case, a rendition "thick with leaves" or "flourishing"
conveys the essential meaning of extreme productivity and fer-
tility perhaps better than does the usual "green" translation.
Thus the performance of sympathetic fertility rites, whether
 143

in the name of YHWH or Baal or one of the Canaanite goddesses

naturally would be held at such places.

Summary

Tree theophanies by definition are possible only because

of their relation to the cosmic paradigm of the axis mundi. A
large tree near a source of "living waters" was thus a common
Semitic locale for revelations and for the subsequent estab-
lishment of a sanctuary or a holy place. This is a recurring
motif in the literature of the patriarchal period. Both Abra-
ham and Jacob were involved in theophanous events at notable
trees. The Genesis narrative treats such events without em-
bellishment, and there is no tendency to invoke the larger cos-
mic image to validate the divine presence.
Similar events are recorded in the post-Sinaitic history
of Israel. It is evident that the basic narrative presentation
remains much the same. However, there is a tendency for the
account to include some additional information which more
pointedly relates the theophany to the cosmic paradigm. This
is most explicit in the Elijah episode, where the Mosaic,
mountain-of-God prototype strongly is felt. At the same time
that temporal revelations are being subsumed into the imagistic
archetype, another development is occurring, namely, the
strength of the indigenous fertility rites carried out at cer-
tain numinous spots is being felt. The simple theophany of the
earlier age is enriched by association with the fertility-life
theme.

IV. Cosmic Motifs Within the Imagistio Sphere

Beginning with the Mosaic revelation, "ordinary" histori-

cal theophany came more and more to be seen through an imagis-
tic lens. Acts of revelation came to be viewed in relation to
archetypal structures and these structures became metaphoric
expressions of Israel's place in the land and in the cosmos.
Thus we turn now to a conspectus of cosmic tree motifs as they
developed uniquely within Israel. We shall begin with presen-
tations of God's immanence in arborescent metaphor as part of
144

the cosmic paradigm. We shall then see how the metaphor is

extended to the people Israel and finally to the Messianic vi-
sion.
It must be pointed out that the focal point of the cosmic
motif in biblical imagery is often as not the cosmic mountain,
undoubtedly because of the Sinai event. The cosmic tree rarely
if ever appears apart from its mountainous base. The paramount
position of the mountain imagery, especially in early poetic
texts of the Bible, must be seen in relation to ancient Near
Eastern and especially Canaanite epic poetry of the Late Bronze
Age. Specifically, the mountainous character of El's abode
41
sets the cosmic pattern. The cosmic tree by integration into
the mountain imagery thus partakes of the same sort of symbolic
value carried by that paradigm.

A. Arborescent presentations of deity

YHWH, in appearing via a plant form, earns the attribute

"arborescent" in the same way that his association with Sinai
and Horeb has earned him the appellation "mountain G o d . " ^ It
does not limit him but only signifies a mode of his revelatory
power. God's original revelation to Moses occurs at the "moun-
43 44
tain of God from the midst of a sneh. This encounter,
with its covenantal implications, occurs at a place that is ex-
plicitly "holy ground." Yet there is no indication that this
spot was already hallowed by theophanies nor that any existing
45
cult had already established the sanctity of the place. The
sneh bush, whatever its botanical identification might be,
seems in itself to be a rather undistinguished plant form. Its
outstanding feature is not its size or its leafiness, as with
the theophanous trees of the land of Canaan. Rather the thing
that attracts the attention of Moses and heralds the appearance
of God is the fact that a flame in the midst of the bush does
not constitute a consuming fire, i.e., the bush is not burnt.
The behavior of the fire in the sneh pericope is in con-
trast to the more usual notion of fire, tiK, which charac-
46
terizes the appearance of YHWH at Sinai. The devouring fire
at Sinai, which is developed in biblical poetry as a weapon of
47
YHWH the warrior God, is part of the widespread motif of gods
 145

using fire against their enemies. 48 This idea has its roots in
the elements of theophany associated with the storm gods, ele-
ments which have their origin in the natural phenomena of
lightning and fire, smoke and shining clouds, playing about
high points and especially about isolated trees during a
49
storm. However, in the concretization of the communication
between God and Moses at the sneh, fire behaves in a way con-
trary to its usual function.
There is no direct information in the sneh episode by
which we can ascribe any special significance to this fact.
However, it is possible to see in this non-consumptive, non-
destructive fire a relation to the concept of God which stands
opposite to that of the flaming warrior, to wit, the concept of
God as the "light" of Israel, a beacon in the darkness."^ The
explicit identification of YHWH or his countenance (LP.3B) with
light (TlX) is found chiefly in Psalms and First and Second
Isaiah."'''' Yet it is also part of the Sinai tradition to iden-
tify God's fire with the solar light. The beginning of Deu-
teronomy 33 is a case in point. Despite some textual diffi-
culties, 52 the solar imagery is clear: 53
to ijidd m m
myem m n
•pxs inn y s i n
»Tp n n m n nnto
TO"? mtiw U1D1D
(Deut 33:2)
The words HIT and V S i n are certainly part of the vocabu-
lary associated with the sun. The context of m m o is less
clear, but the myriad of celestial objects accompnaying the sun
could easily be the implication. The last stichos particularly
is unclear, but UPD^D may indicate that some sort of solar
symbol or weapon is being held in the hand of the (sun) deity,
54
as can be seen in Shamash depictions. The next few verses,
dealing with the giving of the law to Israel, would complete
the solar imagery of flaming god, source of light and law/
truth.55
That there are indeed two separate but related notions—
flames as solar light and flame as stormy, consuming fire—is
146

demonstrated in Isa 10:17, where the "light of Israel" in fact

becomes a consuming flame:

>K-it£p-mK m m
mn>'? itimpi
irpB myai
TiIK DT>3 1 -pDEn

The tendency to combine the two notions also is evident in

another passage where God as source of light (T1K) is equated
specifically with m r P - T i a a which in the Sinai typology is
signified by n>DK tt)K. The hymn in Psalm 50 also seems to mix
the image of YHWH, source of light, with the language of the
storm theophany.
The fire of God is perhaps best understood as a continuum,
drawn from mythic images of both storm and solar deities, ex-
pressing Light and Truth, the antitheses of Darkness, at one
end and destruction and devastation as the awful evidence of
God's power at the other. In any case, it exists in the Exodus
3 revelation as an essential element, along with the sneh it-
self and the mountain of God. Its solar connotations, in con-
junction with plant form, place it within the context of the
tree and associated astral symbol motif found in Near Eastern
iconography.
The Sinai event itself we pass over; there is no cosmic
tree associated with the divine-human encounter in the second
cycle of Mosaic events. Hence it is not a matter of direct
concern, though the cosmic typology it represents is of course
of crucial importance insofar as it colors the subsequent his-
tory of the Israelite tribes.
However, from the repertoire of Mosaic materials, the in-
cident of the battle with Amalek in Exodus 17 is extremely re-
vealing with respect to the tree element of the cosmic para-
digm. Moses with his lieutenants went to the top of the hill
at Rephidim. As long as his hand was held aloft, Israel pre-
vailed. The key to the success of Israel was the presence of
the Lord; the commemorative altar built afterwards by Moses
(v. 15), in being called "the Lord is my banner," attests to
this. But the device employed in achieving God's presence was
not Moses' raised hand alone. Rather the staff of God
 147

(UTl>Kn HUD) which he held in his uplifted hand was the crucial
factor. The staff or rod, portable symbol of the tree, was
raised on high to complete the sacred imagery of the center and
to assure God's presence. That a staff, a branch of a tree,
partakes fully of the power of the whole is evident from what
we have seen in Mesopotamian glyptic and will be encountered
again below when the metaphoric presentations of the arbores-
cent Messiah are discussed.
The sneh motif occurs in one other place in the Bible in
addition to the Exodus passage. The setting this time is the
Blessing of Moses of Deuteronomy 33, a very old and somewhat
58
enigmatic poetic passage related at certain points to the
Blessing of Jacob in Genesis 49, especially in the verses which
concern us here, namely those dealing with Joseph. The bless-
ings bestowed upon Joseph in both the Genesis and Deuteronomy
59
versions heavily are endowed with fertility imagery. Joseph
evidently is well ensconced in the hill country of Palestine,
which in itself was understood, as we shall see, to represent
God's holy mountain. The cosmic background of the blessing is
evident in the geographical setting of Joseph's land, easily
accessible to the life-giving waters above and below:
i2nn mil1 ro-na no«
>DD QiDltf T3DD
nnn r m n mnriDi
(v. 13) 60
Joseph's land is equated, v. 15, with the "eternal moun-
tains" (Dip • m n ) and "everlasting hills" (D>")V m y m ) , phrases
full of cosmic portent.
In v. 16 comes the phrase, absent in the pre-Sinai Genesis
version, fUD •>t> "the favor of him that dwelt in the
bush" as the crowning blessing, literally ("Let these come upon
the head of Joseph, and upon the crowns of the head of him that
is prince among his brothers"). Although Cross and Freedman,
with a number of other scholars and with several Samaritan
manuscripts read "Sinai" for rUD,®''" we see no reason for such
a change in the Masoretic Text. Particularly in association
with Sknwhich in archaic contexts such as this indicate
148

YHWH's immanence in his shrine—in this case the hills of

Canaan are YHWH's holy sanctuary 6 3 —the occurrence of the sneh
as the cosmic plant in the center of God's shrine/mountain and
thus the locus of his contact with man (Joseph) is singularly
appropriate. God's immanence and the sustaining favor bestowed
upon Joseph in the form of material blessings is conveyed by a
portion of the imagistic paradigm.

B. Arborescent Israel

The locus alassiaus for the portrayal of Israel as a tree

upon God's holy mountain is the Song of the Sea in Exodus 15, a
lengthy poetic section rivaling if not surpassing the Blessings
64
of Jacob and Moses in archaism and antiquity. Israel, having
survived the trauma of the Exodus from Egypt through the saving
acts of YHWH, is led into the southern wilderness and the site
of YHWH's heavenly or mythic habitation, as described in v. 13
and again in v. 17:
i n w u inn m y o m inton
mrr- nvys irata1? p a n
T>-P •'JTK B7pD

The verb, ytDJ , used to describe the establishment of Is-

rael at the mountain, is a clear agricultural term, used espe-
65
cially to convey the notion of planting trees or vines. It
is the word used in the episode mentioned above (p. 140), in
which Abraham plants a tamarisk at Beersheba. Thus in the Song
of the Sea, Israel becomes metaphorically a vine or a tree.
The rest of the verse is replete with cosmic imagery derived
from Canaanite epic. The phrase "thy own mountain," perhaps
better rendered "mount of your inheritance" or "your mountain
possession,"® 6 does not at this point indicate Mount Zion. In
fact, it may not even refer as yet to the hill country of
Canaan. As part of an extremely ancient poem which originates
in pre-Conquest Israel, YHWH's mountain in this poem could very
well be the holy wilderness mountain in Sinai, the immediate
destination of the people in their march from Egypt.Fur-
ther, "jmtSV 1130, translated "dais of your throne" by Cross, 6 ®
is part of the divine-royal vocabulary of Canaanite poetry,
 149

here used to indicate YHWH's sovereignty and enthronement in

his enpD, either cosmic sanctuary or earthly representation of
the divine temple-palace.
The symbolic association of Israel with a cosmic plant
established forever on the mountain of the Lord is an image
that appears repeatedly in biblical sources. In another frag-
ment of ancient Hebrew poetry, the third oracle of Balaam, the
dwellings of Israel ( m a n d Di>rm) are equated to trees
70
planted (V02) by God. The cosmic imagery xs present in other
details: the water flowing around the projected heights of Is-
rael's kingdom.
Similarly in Nathan's vision, the Deuteronomic prose ac-
count makes use of the plant terminology to stress the perma-
nence of Israel's existence in Canaan:
I will appoint a place (DIpD) for my people
Israel, and will plant them (1T]yi33) that they may
dwell ("¡3D) in their own place...
2 Sam 7:10=1 Chr 17:9

The pivotal words '¡3ti/, DTpn, and VD3 contribute a sacral and
cosmic dimension to God's promise to David.
However, it is in the poetic imagination of Israel that
the theme put forth in the Song of the Sea is developed most
widely. We can cite only a few examples. Psalm 80, a Joseph
psalm, contains a particularly striking passage:

Thou didst bring a vine out of Egypt, ^

thou didst drive out the nations and plant it.
Thou didst clear the ground for it;
it took deep root and filled the land.
The mountains were covered with its shade,
the mighty cedars with its branches;
It sent out its branches to the sea,
and its shoots^ 2 to the River.
(vv. 9-12)

Israel (Joseph) is depicted as a vine which God brought forth

from Egypt and "planted." It takes strong root and covers the
mountains; it sends its branches to the sea and its roots to
the "River." Thus three elements of the cosmic scene—plant/
tree, mountain, water—are poetically invoked to stress Is-
rael's rightful place in the land and thus to justify the
hoped-for restoration.
150

Elsewhere, especially in eschatological settings, the

tree idea alone conveys the message of restoration: Amos 9:15
("I will plant them upon their land, and they shall never again
be plucked up out of the land which I have given them"), Jer
24:6 ("I will bring them back to this land...I will plant them,
73
and not uproot them"), Hos 14:6, 7, 8 (Israel "shall blossom
as the lily, he shall strike root as the poplar, his shoots
shall spread out; his beauty shall be like the olive...they
shall blossom as the vine..."), 7 4 Isa 37:31 = 2 Kgs 19:30 ("the
surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root
downward, and bear fruit upward"), Isa 65:22
75 ("Like the days of
a tree shall the days of my people be"), Isa 61:3 ("that they
may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the
Lord"), etc.
In the visions of Ezekiel the tree image as an expression
of Israel's existence appears in its fullest form with an ex-
travagant supply of cosmic trappings. We refer specifically
to the conclusion in chapter 47 of Ezekiel's extensive temple
vision. The temple itself is in the land of Israel "upon a
very high mountain." Life-giving77 streams issue forth from
below the threshold of the temple. And, in Edenic style, all
sorts of trees for food grow there, bearing fruit all the time
because they are not dependent upon rains but rather have their
roots in the perpetual cosmic waters which flow from the sanc-
78
tuary. This vivid presentation of cosmic trees in a well-
watered garden on the high mountain indicates the currency for
Ezekiel and his audience of the paradigmatic image of the magi-
cal trees at the sacred center.
What is so fascinating about the appearance of this image
at this point in Ezekiel is its immediate and abrupt juxtapos-
ition with the description of the boundaries of the land which
79
Israel shall inherit and the apportionment of the tribal
territories within that land. In other words, the twelve 8 0
tribes are distributed geographically throughout the land
just as the Otrees
1 on the mountain of God's inheritance flourish
everywhere. Israel's restoration to the land thus is seen m
the same cosmic terms as her original conquest-habitation of
the land of Canaan, which is presented as a hieros topos begin-
ning in the earliest poetic portions of the Bible.
 151

C. Arborescent Messiah
The concept of the Messianic restorer of Israel follows
naturally, i.e., in line with natural imagery, from the figure
of Israel as a vine or tree upon God's holy mountain. The pos-
sibilities for this development are expressed in purely natural
terms in Job:

For there is hope for a tree,

if it be cut down, that it will sprout again,
and that its shoots will not cease.
Though its root grow old in the earth,
and its stump die in the ground,
yet at the scent of water it will bud
and put forth branches like a young plant.
(Job 14:7-9)

The disaster or impending disaster of Israel, its destruc-

tion and exile, are seen in terms of the destruction of all the
vegetation of the land. Formerly an Edenic garden, the land
utterly will be laid waste. 8 2 The strongest stem of the vine,
83
which was the ruler of Israel, will be burnt completely. It
follows from this that if the restoration of Israel is to be
effected, she will have to be replanted on the mountain of God.
In the burnt-out, cut-down stump lies the possibility for re-
generation:
'And though a tenth remain in it,
it will be burned again,
like a terebinth or an oak,
whose stump remains standing
when it is felled.'
The holy seed is its stump.
(Isa 6:13)

If Israel is the destroyed tree, it nonetheless has not

perished completely but contains within itself the potential
for regermination. As a corollary to the reestablishment of
the people comes the theme of the restoration of the Davidic
throne, also cut off but not dead. This theme likewise is ex-
pressed in arborescent terms: a shoot or new growth will sprout
84
forth from the Davidic stump. A parade example is found in
Isa 11:1, in which a shoot ("11311) comes forth from the "stump
of Jesse" and a branch ("1X3) goes out from its roots. Further,
in v. 9 the scene of o c;this new Davidic growth is God's holy
mountain, ">ttnrp "in. And in the following prose verse, in
152

terms reminiscent of Exodus 17, the "root of Jesse" is called

an "ensign to the peoples" as prelude to the "ensign for the
86
nations" oracle which ensues. Thus the cosmic paradigm is
invoiced.
This theme also appears in Isa 4:2 where, with no specific
identification of a Davidic scion, "the branch (PiDIf) of the
87
Lord" is equated with the fruitfulness of the land, the glor-
ious pride of the remnant of Israel. Jeremiah likewise uses
88 89
riDX with reference
Zechariah to a righteous
the restoration (P^TS) to the
of Zerubbabel Davidic shoot.
Davidic throne In
is seen in terms of a shoot (riDS) growing up in Jerusalem and
90
building the temple of the Lord.
The vision of Zechariah 4, already mentioned above in
Chapter II because of the menorah contained therein also pre-
sents a Messianic theme expressed in terms of trees, rather
than branches or shoots. In v. 3, it is noted that there are
two olive trees flanking the menorah. The explanation of these
trees comes in vv. 11-14 where the angel of the Lord reveals
91
that the trees represent the "two anointed" of the Lord,
presumably Joshua and Zerubbabel, who are to be co-rulers in
the theocracy of Zechariah's prophecy.
In this particular vision, between the establishment of
the objects of the prophetic vision in vv. 1-6 and the elabora-
tion of their portent in w . 11-14 comes an inserted element
relating the building of the temple from which Joshua and
Zerubbabel are to reign together. Even the "great mountain"
upon which Zerubbabel is building God's house shall be flat-
tened out to facilitate the completion of the building project.
Thus the concept of the Messianic ruler (s) , expressed in ar-
borescent terms, is joined to the mountainous element of the
cosmic picture.
As with the metaphoric presentation of Israel in its full-
est cosmic setting, the arborescent expression of the Messianic
hope also is found in its most vivid cosmic terms in the
prophet Ezekiel. The whole of chapter 17 revolves around the
comparison of Israel and its ruler to branches removed from
their trees in the land of Israel and transplanted to Babylon.
The redemption of Israel will come when God himself will effect
 153

a new "conquest" of the land by taking I s r a e l — a twig (ripJI1) —

and rerooting it in the land:

I myself will plant it upon a high and lofty mountain;

on the mountain height of Israel will I plant it,
that it may bring forth boughs and bear fruit,
and become a noble cedar.
(Ezek 17:22-23)

The elements of tree and mountain are explicit. Implicit

because of the relationship of the language to that of Ezekiel
31 are the elements of flowing waters and Edenic garden. That
passage, though referring to Pharaoh, develops the same imagery
of the mighty cedar in greater detail. Birds nest in its
92
branches and beasts seek refuge in its shade. The source of
moisture for such a flourishing tree is the waters of the deep
(Dinn) and the rivers which flow from the place of its planting
(nVDD). 93 This exceptional tree is beyond the rivalry of the
94
"trees of Eden, that were in "the garden of God. Thus,
though not all of these elements are present in chapter 17,
there is enough similarity of terminology to indicate that both
passages are drawn from a common source describing the Edenic
paradigm. 95

Summary

The presentation of deity in arborescent terms is part of

the cosmic typology of the sacred center. The sneh episode has
YHWH appearing in the midst of a plant form and also in the
midst of a non-consuming flame, which may serve to introduce
solar imagery and prefigure the law-giving acts to follow. In
any case, it is clear that flame/light and plant form are two
important and integral elements of what transpired on the moun-
tain of God in Exodus 3, just as they are commonly associated
elements in Near Eastern glyptic portrayals of the arboreal mo-
tif.96
The episode of Exodus 17 presents another variation where-
by a branch of a tree, "the rod of God," is used on a hill to
attain the active presence of God. In the Blessing of Moses,
the sneh motif is joined to the constellation of values sur-
rounding the root pta, which denotes the impermanent visita-
tions of YHWH to his sacred mountain (Israel) or his sanctuary.
154

The relation of God's presence to the fertility of the land,

in this case the mountain country inhabited by Joseph, is con-
cretized in the cosmic imagery surrounding the phrase lixn
rUD 13 Dili.
It is in the shift of the image of plant life to an under-
standing of Israel's place in Canaan and subsequently to the
Davidic Messiah's place in Israel that the biblical writers
make fullest use of the tree portion of the cosmic paradigm.
From some of the earliest poetic passages, such as the Song of
the Sea and Balaam's oracle, comes evidence that Israel's place
in the land was viewed in cosmic terms and expressed in the
epic language of the Late Bronze Age. Biblical poetry in gen-
eral is a fertile source for the discovery of tree motifs in
which Israel is the tree or vine planted on God's mountain.
Once the prospect of Israel's destruction and/or exile
enters the prophetic sensibilities, the metaphor is vividly
applied to the reestablishment of the people in their homeland.
As a development of this, the Davidic scion likewise is seen in
arborescent terms. If Israel is a form of plant life to be re-
rooted or replanted in the land of God's inheritance, then a
shoot of the stump of the burnt or felled tree is to be the
descendant of the royal line who will reestablish his throne on
God's holy mountain, meaning Mt. Zion as well as the hill coun-
try as a whole. Whereas cosmic allusions surrounding the ar-
borescent imagery are more or less visible in most of the pro-
phetic passages cited, the visions of Ezekiel preserve the
imagistic paradigm in its richest form, with a full measure of
the component elements.

V. Conclusions

It should be clear from this study of arboreal motifs in

the Hebrew Bible that there is an abundance of relevant mater-
ials. The properties of vegetal life lent themselves to their
employment in Israel, no less than among her neighbors, for the
expression of certain central concerns. However, the concerns
that seem to be supreme in the representations of tree motifs
in the ancient Near East, i.e., the themes of fertility and im-
mortality, are largely replaced—consciously in the case of the
 155

primeval cycle of Genesis—in the biblical record by other con-

cepts. The primacy of God as creator and hence the source of
the fecundity of plant life is proclaimed; the complete de-
emphasis of the preoccupation with life eternal is achieved.
This is not to say that the mythological forces being opposed
were not still active to some extent for a long time during
Israel's occupation in Canaan; the corruption of the basic
theophanous tree/mountain motif by the emphasis on "pin YV is
ample testimony to that fact.
In any case, with such matters disposed of, the biblical
sources still contain rich evidence for the vital presence of
tree motifs in Israelite thought. Our typology of the expres-
sion of these motifs makes this clear, though in a way it does
a disservice to the conceptual images we are dealing with; for
there can be no distinct divisions in a paradigm which has as
its source the ancient Semitic, if not universal, belief that
an outstanding tree usually upon a mountain and near a water
supply was somehow evidence of the presence of deity. Such a
tree signified a hieros topos and thus constituted a sacred
center, a point of contact between the divine and human
spheres.
Consequently, in the pre-Mosaic theophanies recorded in
the patriarchal narratives of Genesis, the cosmic underpinnings
which allow the experience of revelation to occur must not be
minimized. This becomes especially true in the theophanous
events of the same ilk which transpire following the entry into
Canaan. It seems that the Sinai event resulted in the trans-
formation of the mythopoeic traditions current at that time
into a paradigm that particularly denoted YHWH's unique rela-
tionship with his people Israel. Hence the episodes involving
Moses and tree motifs, while fitting perfectly well into the
"temporal" mold, have been subsumed under the imagistic type
insofar as they belong to the pivotal traditions which shift
the common Semitic expressions of divine manifestation to the
unique Israelite relationship with the one God. YHWH, who
manifests himself in a sneh, is at the same time the trans-
cendent source of the blessings which flow to the inhabitants
of God's mountain.
156

It would seem to follow, then, that in the subsequent

transferral of the plant motif from the divinity itself to the
people Israel and eventually to the Messianic figure that Is-
rael could now and in the end of days be assured of a permanent
position at the axis mundi and, as a result, a perpetual point
of contact with the divine sphere. Of course, this transferral
did not remove the concept of divinity from association with
the cosmic tree; it merely added the dimension of assuring Is-
rael a continuing place in relation to that focus of divine
presence.
At the same time, the reorganization of the cosmic para-
digm to a conception of Israel as the tree on God's mountain
can be seen as the ultimate challenge to the pagan fertility
and immortality themes. The people Israel and their Davidic
ruler, as seen in cosmic terms, achieve collective immortality,
existing forever on their inherited land, and in this sense
share the eternal attributes of the arborescent deity. The
concomitant theme of the perpetual flourishing of the people at
the hand of the Lord--after all, it is clearly and repeatedly
the merciful God who effects their planting and growth in the
land—gives the nation as a whole the status of the fruit of
97
the soil, produced by God's supreme power.
In short, our typology of tree motifs in Israel has shown
that while the tree-life concept may have originally emerged in
pre-Israel as a direct derivative of current concepts in the
ancient Near East, it underwent a transformation that enabled
it to supersede such notions but at the same time retain all
the potency contained therein. Entering wholly into the cosmic
paradigm, it existed as part of a symbolic structure whereby
Israel and/or her Messianic ruler would exist securely at the
center, in direct contact with God, assured of both continued
productivity and sustained existence.
 NOTES

CHAPTER V

See the discussion of Fishbane, pp. 2, 26, and passim.

Frank Moore Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic, Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1973, pp. 24-25, describes the same
phenomena in terms of the role of Canaanite myth.
2
This has been pointed out by Fxshbane, p. 7.

^ Ibid., pp. 8-10.

4
In addition, in Near Eastern mythology a god or goddess
frequently is enthroned on the cosmic mountain in the midst of
the garden. See below, p. 144, and n. 41.

^A graduate student at Duke University, Douglas Mannes,

has made a study of all the occurrences of "trees" in the Bible
(both in the generic sense and in terms of particular species)
and has begun an analysis of their contexts. I am extremely
grateful to him for sharing his information with me.

®Cf. Nahum Sarna, Understanding Genesis, New York: McGraw

Hill Book Company, 1966, p. 11.

^Gerhard von Rad, Genesis (Old Testament Library), trans.

John H. Marks, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1961, p. 53,
calls this fact the "maternal participation" of earth and in so
doing reverts to the very mythological concept that the text is
negating.
Q
In this context the dual symbols of fruit and branches
(Lev 23:40) of the Festival of the Ingathering can be related
to the fruit and branch/tree motif common in Near Eastern
iconography.
9
On the mythic background of the knowledge-tree, not so
separate from the tree of life as in the Genesis account, see
William Foxwell Albright, "The Goddess of Life and Wisdom,"
AJSL 36 (1920), pp. 258-94.

''""see Sarna, Understanding Genesis, pp. 23-27.

^From Adam to Noah (Commentary on the Book of Genesis),

trans. Israel Abraham, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1961, pp. 72-
96.
12
Ibid., p. 109. The textual references are Gen 2:9 and
3:22.
13
P r o v 3:18, 11:30, 13:12, 15:4.

157
158

14
The former is the description of Ralph Marcus, "The Tree
of Life in Proverbs," JBL 62 (1943), p. 120; the latter appears
in von Rad, p. 76.

•*"5For references see Marcus, p. 118, and Albright, "God-

dess of Life and Wisdom," pp. 283-85.

•*"®See Marcus, pp. 119-20, though we do not necessarily

agree on a non-mythological background for a this-worldly meta-
phor.

^ I t is in this almost medicinal context that the compari-

son with the rabbinic term uiifl-UD becomes valid; see ibid.,
p. 119, and cf. Akkadian sammu.
18
See Cross, Canaanite Myth, p. 25.
19
See Roland deVaux, Ancient Israel, trans. John McHugh,
New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1961, pp. 278-79.
20
"Place" (tnpD) often is a technical term for "cult
site." This fact was brought to my attention in a personal
communique from Prof. Baruch Levine, dated 18 May 1974. Cf.
deVaux, ibid., who translates it "holy place," pp. 279, 289,
291, 309, and 339.
21
Gen 12:6. This was perhaps already a Canaanite high
place since the text adds immediately: "at that time the
Canaanites were in the land." On the textual confusion between
"oak" and "terebinth" here and elsewhere, see G. Ernest Wright,
Sheohem, McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1964, p. 135 and n. 21, and
deVaux, Ancient Israel, p. 279, who believes that the two words
are virtually synonymous and simply mean "any large tree." See
also Albright, Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan, pp. 189-91.
22
Gen 35:4.
23
Joshua 24. Perhaps the first sanctuary of the twelve
tribes is located at Shechem. For a discussion, with bibliog-
raphy, of the "Sacred Area of Shechem in Early Biblical Tradi-
tion," see Chapter 8 of Wright, Shechem. However, note that
the LXX records "Shiloh" for "Shechem" in Josh 24:1 and 25;
perhaps the patriarchal attachment to Shechem is here merging
with the importance of Shiloh as the chief sanctuary during the
period of the Judges. Prof. Orlinsky has commented on the
textual problem in n. 19 of Chapter 8. If one were to react to
Orlinsky's analysis in the way opposite to that of Wright,
i.e., if Shiloh were to be understood as original, then we
would have Shiloh as another specified locus of a cult place
with a tree.
24
Judg 9:6. The pillar (mXD) no doubt refers to the one
erected by Joshua. Later in Judges 9 (vs. 37), the "Diviner's
Oak" (LPJJiyD 'p>X) is mentioned in the vicinity of Shechem;
this is probably another reference to the oak of Shechem, per-
haps indicative of its original oracular nature. Note that
this Diviner's Oak is located "at the center of the land,"
i.e., at the omphalos or sacred center.
 159

25
G e n 13:18, 14:13, and 18:1.
26
Gen 21:33.
27
G e n 35:7 and 14.
28
G e n 35:8.
29
Judg 4:4-5.
30
J u d g 6:11, 12, 19, 21, 24.
31
Cf. Exod 24:17. On fire and theophany, see below, pp.
144-46.
32
1 Sam 14:2, 22:6. Further, in 31:13, Saul's burial
place is given: "under the tamarisk tree in Jabesh."
33
2 Sam 5:22-25.
34
The word for marching is iliys; cf. Judg 5:4, Ps 68:8.
Isa 63:1, and Hab 3:12, where this word is part of the vocabu-
lary of YHWH's theophany.
35
1 Kgs 19:4, 5, 7.
3
®This has been called a Deuteronomic "set-phrase"; see
John Bright, "The Date of the Prose Sermons of Jeremiah," JBL
70 (1951), Appendix B, p. 35, and Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy
and the Deuteronomic School, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972,
Appendix A, p. 322.
37
So the analysis of William Holladay, "On Every High Hill
and Under Every Green Tree," VT 11 (1961), pp. 170-76. See
also Weinfeld, Appendix B ("Hosea and Deuteronomy"), p. 366.
3P
Ezek 6:13, 20: 28; Neh 8:15; Lev 23:40. nay/rimy is not
synonymous with 'py'l but rather seems to describe the tree as
"twisted" or "having intertwined foliage" (see BOB, p. 721);
Prof. Nahum Sarna, in a personal note dated 4 June 1974, sug-
gests "gnarled."
39
See D. Winton Thomas, Some Observations on the Hebrew
Word •¡nyi," Hebraische Wortforschung (Baumgartner Festschrift,
VI supplement, SVI), Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1967, pp. 388-89.
40
See ibid., pp. 393-94. Note the rendering of IJVT modi-
fying '¡Dii in Ps 92:11 by "freshening" in The Book of Psalms,
Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1972, p.
96.
41
See Richard Clifford, "The Cosmic Mountain m the An-
cient Near East and Early Hebrew Literature," Hebrew 200, semi-
nar of Harvard University, Oct. 19, 1967, p. 7, and Cross,
Canaanite Myth, pp. 38-9. For a full discussion, with bibliog-
raphy, of the cosmic mountain, see Clifford's The Cosmic Moun-
tain in Canaan and the Old Testament (Harvard Semitic
160

Monographs, Vol. 4), Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972.

Ideas of kingship and dominion are involved also in the moun-
tain imagery in Canaanite sources.
42
The term "mountain god" or "one of the mountains" de-
rives from an analysis of Shaddai. This designation and its
related mountainous epithets has been scrutinized by many
scholars. Perhaps the basic treatment is in W. F. Albright,
"The Name Shaddai and Abram," JBL 54 (1935), pp. 180-93; Al-
bright gives credit, p. 192, to Torczyner (Die Bundelade, 1922)
for stressing YHWH's role as a mountain god in early Hebrew
literature. The cosmic or Weltberg background of the Shaddai
epithet is noted more recently by, among others, Frank Moore
Cross, Jr., "Yahweh and the God of the Patriarchs," HTR 55
(1962), pp. 245-50. See also the discussion of this epithet
and of lis in David Noel Freedman, "Divine Names and Titles
in Early Hebrew Poetry," Hagnalia Dei (Essays in honor of G.
Ernest Wright), ed. F. M. Cross, New York: Doubleday & Co.,
1976.
43
Exod 3:1-6 contains the kernel of the episode.
44
For analysis of the encounter in terms of the symbolism
of the center, see Fishbane, pp. 14-15.
45
Cf. U. Cassuto, Commentary on the Book of Exodus, trans.
Israel Abraham, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1967, p. 31, and Y.
Kaufmann, The Religion of Israel, trans, and abr. Moshe Green-
berg, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1960, p. 224.
46
See above, n. 31.
47
E.g., Isa 30:27, 30; Ps 144:5, 6; 2 Sam 22:8-15=Ps 18:
7-14.
48
See Patrick D. Miller, "Fire in the Mythology of Canaan
and Israel," CBQ 27 (1965), p. 257.
49
See Cross, Canaanite Myth, p. 169.

^ T h e r e may be some indirect evidence relating YHWH as

light (11K) with his appearance at the sneh. The passage in
Deuteronomy 33 (Blessing of Moses; see our discussion below,
pp. 147-48) containing the blessing of Joseph and the associa-
tion of YHWH with the sneh is in the background of several pas-
sages in Psalms in which YHWH as 11K is also present. In Ps
44:4, Israel's conquest of the land is related to the light of
God's countenance ("pJB 11»| and God's favor (DrpKl) , cf. Deut
33:16 ( m o iJ3t£) p i n ) . In Ps 89:16, the light of God's counte-
nance is again associated with God's favor ("plSl) , again cf.
Deut 33:16, and also with "our horn" (1331p), cf. Deut 33:17
(T'Jlp UKl ">31p) . The similarity of terminology in these pas-
sages seems to point to a common source, perhaps Deuteronomy 33
or an expanded version or Vorlage thereof, relating YHWH, the
sneh, his light (11X), his favor (psi) , and the horns (Qiijlp)
of the people. On the complex relationship between "light" and
"horns" see Hab 3:3, admittedly a difficult text, and Jack M.
Sasson, "Bovine Symbolism in the Exodus Narrative," VT 18
(1968), pp. 385-87.
 161

51
P s 4:7, 27:1, 44:4, 89:16,- Isa 2:5, 60:1-3, 19. Also
see 2 Sam 22:29 = Ps 18:28.
52
For textual analysis, see Cross, Canaanite Myth, p. 101,
and the literature cited in nn. 36 and 37.
^Contra Cross, Canaanite Myth, pp. 86 and 101, who sees
this as part of the Divine Warrior motif; but it seems to me
that it reflects a different imagery than does a passage like
Judg 5:4-5, though in other poetic passages the images (of sun
god and storm/warrior god) may coalesce.
54
S e e , e.g., SCWA, figs. 248, 253, 257, 260, 270a, 272,
274, 281, etc.
55
C f . Isa 51.4, "a light will go forth from me, and my
justice for a light to the peoples." Sarna's treatment of
these two themes, light and law, in connection with "Psalm XIX
and Near Eastern Sun Literature" is particularly pertinent here.
See above, Chapter II, pp. 27-28 and n. 83.
56
Isa 60:1-3.

^ S e e above, pp. 119-20 and Widengren, pp. 20-22. The rod

of Aaron episode of Numbers 17 and the rods of Moses and Aaron
in Exodus 4 and the plague accounts also belong to this phenom-
enological setting.
58
For reasons of orthography, archaic poetic structure,
and affinities with Canaanite literature, it must have been
composed no later than the 11th century, so Frank M. Cross,
Jr., and David Noel Freedman, "The blessing of Moses," JBL 67
(1948), p. 192. More recently, Freedman in "Divine Names and
Titles" upholds the 11th century date and points to some pos-
sible hints of the beginning of the Israelite monarchy. W. J.
Phythian-Adams, "On the Date of the 'Blessing of Moses' (Deut.
XXXIII)," JPOS 3 (1923), pp. 158-66, had earlier reached the
same conclusion on the basis of historical analysis of internal
data.
59
G e n 49:22-26 and Deut 33:13-17.

^ G e n 49:25 adds here "blessings of the breasts and womb,"

bringing the fertility aspect even more forcefully to the fore.

^ W r i t t e n 3D in their orthographic reconstruction, "Bless-

ing of Moses," p. 206. However, in Freedman's latest discus-
sions of Deuteronomy 33, the phrase in question is translated
"dweller of the bush" and is treated as an archaic reference to
the Exodus 3 episode of the burning bush. See "Divine Names
and Titles," p. 23, and also "Early Israelite Poetry and His-
torical Reconstructions," The Era of Israelite Origins: Prob-
lems in the Archaeology and History at the Beginning of the
Early Iron Age (Seventy-fifth Anniversary Symposium of the
American Schools of Oriental Research), ed. F. M. Cross, Cam-
bridge: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1976, p. 12.
162

For a discussion of the root 73tB, see Frank M. Cross,

Jr., "The Priestly Tabernacle," BAH I: 224-27, and Canaanite
Myth, pp. 245-46. See also Freedman, "Divine Names and
Titles," p. 23.

the following discussion of Exod 15:17.

64
An extensive discussion of this poem and its date
towards the beginning of the 12th century can be found in David
Noel Freedman, "Early Israelite History in the Light of Early
Israelite Poetry," Unity and Diversity: Essays in the History,
Literature , and Religion of the Ancient Near East, ed. H.
Goedicke and J.J.M. Roberts, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press,
1975, pp. 3-12. See also Cross, Canaanite Myth, pp. 121-26,
for a discussion of the antiquity of its poetic structure, and
his n. 29, on p. 121, for bibliography.
65
E.g., for trees, see Lev 19:23, Isa 44:14, Eccl 2:5,
etc.; of vineyards, see Gen 9:20 (Noah, first farmer), Amos
5:11, 9:14, Eccl 2:4, etc.

^ T h e former is the suggestion of Cross, Canaanite Myth,

p. 131. The latter is the rendering of Freedman, "Early Is-
raelite History," p. 6. The mythological context of nh.1, as
territory owned by the god, is described by Clifford, The Cos-
mic Mountain, pp. 29-73.

® 7 Freedman's analysis of Israelite history in relation to

this poem, in "Early Israelite History," pp. 6-9, not only sees
the southern wilderness mountain as the frame of reference for
this verse but also proposes that this holy mountain consti-
tuted a sacral center of YHWH. Cf. Ps 78:54 and also Freed-
man 1 s analysis of it, ibid.-, this verse seems to contain
another reference to the southern sacred region of the Lord.
68
Canaanite Myth, pp. 131 and 246. See also Freedman,
"Early Israelite History," pp. 6-7.
®®Clifford, Cosmic Mountain, p. 139, would like to iden-
tify the reference to miqdas here with the sanctuary at Gilgal.
But Freedman, ibid., would see miqda5 along with "dias of your
throne" and the other Late Bronze terminology of this poem as
reflecting the heavenly palace of YHWH at the summit of the
sacred mountain rather than any earthly construction.

^ N u m 24:5-7. The word that is the subject of "planted"

is "aloes" in the MT, a lofty tree properly paralleled by cedar
in the following strophe. However, the Septuagint and other
ancient versions preserve "tents," perhaps influenced by the
tents of Jacob in the preceding verse; and some scholars pre-
fer (see the notes in Kittel, ad loo) "oaks" or "terebinths."

'^"The Hebrew word is VtsJ; it recurs in v. 16.

72
The Hebrew is ripil1; cf. Ezek 17:22 and below, pp. 152-
53.
73
A1SO in Jeremiah, see 2:21, 11:16, 17, 32:41, 42:10.
 163

74
Cf. also Hos 10:1, where Israel is a vine, the fertility
of which leads her, presumably, to fertility cults, and Hos
14:9, where the Lord is likened to a tree, i.e., he is the
source of Israel's fruits.

"^The cosmic image is picked up in v. 25, which gives the

setting "in all my holy mountain," and in the following verse
(65:1), where God proclaims heaven as his throne and the earth
as his footstool.

^ T h e scene is thus set in Ezek 40:2.

^ E z e k 47:1-2. The rivers are filled, in the terminology

of Genesis 1, with "every living creature which swarms," v. 9.
78
Ezek 47:12. The fruit of these life-trees shall be for
fruit and healing, cf. above, p. 138.
79
The root appears repeatedly in chapter 47: three
times in vv. 13-14, three times in vv. 22-23. Cf. p. 148, nn.
66 and 67.
80
Only on the west bank, between the Mediterranean and the
Jordan rift, and not in Transjordan.
81
Not on both sides of the river as the RSV implies, but
only on one bank, the west bank, as in the tribal inheritances,
cf. n. 80. nstfl appears only in the singular; HTDT HTD would
then have to mean "everywhere, in every direction," rather than
"on both sides." That "?rn refers to the Jordan rift seems
clear; cf. William R. Farmer, "The Geography of Ezekiel's River
of Life," BAR I: 284-89.
ft 9
See Joel 2:3, Jer 9:9-11, Isa 5:5-7, Ezek 19:12. The
personification of the ground (HOIK) mourning its destroyed
vegetation is reminiscent of the unique situation of the earth
mediating God's creation of vegetation in Gen 1:11-12.
83
Ezek 19:11, 14; the Monarch is equated with his staff,
nan.
84
In one place, Isa 60:21, the shoot motif refers to all
Israel, but elsewhere the idiom is overwhelmingly applied to a
Messianic ruler. The royal imagery of the biblical and post-
biblical passages is discussed in Widengren, pp. 50-55.
85
Cf. Ezek 20:40; God's holy mountain = "the mountain
height of Israel."
86
The use of DJ in these vv. (Isa 11:10, 12) for the
Davidic root or shoot is to be compared with the altar as
built by Moses in commemoration of YHWH's presence via the
"staff of God"; cf. above, pp. 146-47. Thus the Davidic Mes-
siah is symbolic of God's presence in Israel. In addition, ar-
borescent ensign to D^IDV and D"11T3 is to be compared to the
luminescent terms • ">•>•) 3 -)1K> (Isa 42:6, 49:6) and 0">Dy
(Isa 51:4); cf. above, n. 54.
164

87
"Branch" (RSV and most E W ) might better be rendered
"shoot," which contains the notion of new or renewed growth
not present in "branch."
88
On the introduction of this term (P^TX) in relation to
the scion of David and its possible connection with Zedekiah
(irPpTi") , see John Bright, Jeremiah (Anchor Bible, 21) , Garden
City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1965, pp. 143-44.
89
J e r 23:5 and 33:15.
90
Zech 3:8, 6:12.
91
In v. 11, the two olive trees are the symbols in ques-
tion; in the reiteration of v. 12, it is the "branches of the
olive trees," LprpTn Perhaps the prevailing notions of
the Messianic "shoot" expressed by Zechariah himself in 3:8
and 6:12 caused the prophet to adjust the tree figure in this
way.
92
Ezek 31:6; cf. 17:23 and also Hos 14:7, a somewhat
shortened reference to the protective shade of the tree, which
according to the Hebrew text seems to be referring to God.
The shift in number, from singular to plural, has caused a
confusion of antecedents.
93
Ezek 31:4. Cf. u">m d ^ D in vv. 5 and 7 and also in
17:5 and 8. On the cosmic background of this term, see Herbert
G. May, "Some Cosmic Connotations of Mayirn Rabbim, 'Many
Waters,'" JBL 74 (1955), pp. 19-21.
94
E z e k 31:8 and 9.
95
See above, n. 11.
9
®The symbolic importance of the confluence of these two
images, flame/light and plant form, will be treated below in
our concluding chapter, pp. 176-78.
97
The recurrent notion of the fertility of Joseph in par-
ticular, as in the Blessings of Jacob and Moses and in Hosea
and Psalm 80, is no doubt related to the choice location of
the Joseph tribes on the fertile mountain heights of Israel.
Thus Joseph epitomizes the flourishing of Israel.
 CHAPTER VI

CONCLUSIONS

PART ONE. THE MENORAH IN THE ISRAELITE CULT

I. Evaluation of the Motif

This study has undertaken from the outset to comprehend

the tabernacle menorah as an artifact of biblical religion by
first investigating its physical form, as far as such is acces-
sible on the basis of the available textual descriptions along
with pertinent archaeological data, and then by turning to the
meaning of that form to the extent that it is a part of the
symbolic lingua franca of the ancient Near East. The task re-
maining for us at this point, then, is to ascertain as closely
as possible the function that this object served within the
context of the biblical cult. The preceding chapter has al-
ready determined the ideational background existing within Is-
rael with regard to the arborescent meaning conveyed by the
form that the object assumes, by the vegetative terminology
used to describe its components, and by the vegetal nature of
the architectonic elements themselves. Thus the culminative
step in this work involves confronting the issue of the posi-
tion of the object as a totality within its cultic setting.

To begin with, it is crucial to differentiate between cul-

tic setting in its broadest sense, namely, the spatial location
of the object, and cultic setting in terms of ritual usage.
There can be no doubt but that in the tabernacle descriptions
of P as we have them, the menorah was an integral part of a
complex of ritual objects, carefully arranged according to
sanctity and intimately connected with a structured series of
regularly-performed ritual acts. The work of Menahem Haran has
been eminently successful in establishing this."L However,
while Haran unhesitatingly affirms that the Israelite cult did
not create its institutions from nothing but rather adapted its
usages from existing forms and practices and imbued them with
new meaning, his analysis of the integrated structure of the
tabernacle ritual tends to blur the possibility of the original

165
166

individuality of the items within the complex and to ignore

the variety of symbolic significations which are amalgamated in
the preserved tradition.

A. Menorah as motif rather than apparatus

Specifically with respect to the menorah, our inquiry has

shown in a number of ways that this object cannot be relegated
to the status of an appurtenance alone, even though that is its
manifest function in the traditions as we have them. We shall
review the bases for such a conclusion:
To begin with, the somewhat ambiguous usage of the word
m i 3 D to describe the central "functional" portion of the arti-
2
fact and/or the composite branched object is indication that
the branches are not crucial to the provision of light in the
ritual complex.
Second, the basic, simple, cylindrical stand with flaring
lower portion can be shown to belong to an extremely common
class of cultic stands serving a wide range of ritual purposes
in the ancient Near East. Yet in the Israelite cult this ar-
chaic type of support underwent a shift in conception, incor-
porating a complicated and repetitive series of embellishments
which cannot be seen as mere decoration and which must be taken
as an indication of an alteration in focus.^ The primary func-
tion of the stand or receptacle was preempted in the process of
its absorption of certain architectonic elements.
Third, as if to corroborate this, we confront the odd man-
ner in which the lamps, the raison d'être for any lampstand qua
lampstand, are presented. Despite the tendency for all uten-
sils of the furnishings of the sanctuary to be specified as
golden, the lamps themselves somehow escape this designation,
4
unlike those of Solomon's temple, for example. In addition,
there exists the confusion, which cannot be resolved easily,
about the number and arrangement of the lamps.^
Finally, there is by contrast with the uncertain nature of
the nil] the integral nature of the y ">2 3 in conjunction with
the phenomenon of the double-bowl lamp in the Egypto-Aegeo-
Palestinian region. 6
These facts taken conjointly serve as evidence that the
menorah 1 s apparent role as bearer of lights does not grow out
 167

of a single and consistent tradition and that there remain

traces in the tradition we have that the object at some hoary
point did not serve this sole purpose. One almost can say that
the lamps as they appear in the priestly account are quite sec-
ondary.
Along with these data several other observations can be
made which further support our conclusion that the menorah can-
not be equated with the other furnishings of the tabernacle de-
spite P's incorporation of it into the ritual complex. In
other words, not only is it more than a lampstand in instru-
mental terms but also it bears remnants of a special status
even within the context of the priestly texts.
For one thing, a special schesis is afforded to its fabri-
cature by the repetition in Exod 25:40 of the general direction
given in 25:9 for the construction of the tabernacle and its
appurtenances. At the conclusion of the prescriptive presenta-
tion of the menorah with all its details, the text asserts:
"And see that you make them after the pattern for them, which
is shown you on the mountain (1H3)." Not even for the ark and
the cherubim, which occupy the inner sanctum, is this reitera-
tive dictum deemed necessary; nor is it repeated for any other
of the furnishings of the outer sanctum. In addition, in
slightly different form, the fact of Moses' being shown the
pattern for the menorah is repeated once more in Num 8:4.'
One further feature of the presentation of the menorah in
the priestly source likewise deserves mention. In the summa-
tion of the prescriptive texts given in Exodus 31, the tent,
the ark, the furnishings and altars, the garments, the oil and
incense are listed seriatim. However, only for the menorah is
o
the attribute mnt3 added, even though other items of the appa-
ratus are specified elsewhere to have been made of "pure gold."
The same is true for the parallel summation of Exod 39:37; only
9 10
the menorah is amplified in this way. It has been assumed
that the epithet "pure" before menorah in these listings is a
variation of the expression "line 3DT and hence denotes the
golden workmanship that characterizes the menorah. At the very
least, then, the menorah seems to be accorded special status
thereby, since no other item within the same gradation is so
singled out. However, the possibility also must be considered
168

that "IHD in these instances does not refer to gold in the

metallurgical sense, since 3HT is not mentioned, and so does
not indicate "pure" in the cultic or technological sense; in-
stead, it may be related in these vv. to Ugaritic thr/zhr which
connotes "brightness" in the visual sense and perhaps in the
. i 11
cosmic sense as well.
In any case, it is clear that the tabernacle menorah, de-
spite its integration into a carefully-arranged ritual complex
in which it serves as an instrument for bearing light as part
of the ritual, retains certain distinctive characteristics
which remove it from the category of apparatus. Its organizing
principles do not reside in the concern for its instrumental
value, though that value may well have resided within it from
the outset. Even in its literary setting within the structure
of the priestly tabernacle texts, for which ritual function is
the overriding interest, the fact that the inherent qualities
of its form and design nonetheless achieve preeminence is good
indication that we are dealing not primarily with a tool or a
cultic apparatus but rather with a symbolic form, a work of
12
art which carries with it far more than what may be conveyed
by its instrumental usage.

B. Levels of meaning of the motif

Therefore, because of the supremacy of matters of form

and design in the structure of our object, it is necessary to
approach its meaning in the iconographic sphere. This we have
done, according to the three successive levels of meaning which
can be associated with a given form.'''3 The first level of in-
terpretation is the natural level, whereby the primary graphic
identification of a form is effected. This has been accom-
plished in Chapter IV, where our formal analysis of the
branched shape and the repetitive elements of the menorah, seen
in conjunction with the vegetative nature of the description of
the elements as discerned in Chapter II, resulted in our under-
standing of the object as an artistic motif expressing vegetal
life.

At the same time, in Chapter IV, we strove to comprehend

the secondary level of meaning of this artistic motif. That is
 169

to say, the conventional themes associated with this motif in

the ancient Near East were established. Normally, stories and
allegories contained in the contemporary literary sources pro-
vide the equipment for such interpretation. While not ignoring
such data, we found it more direct if not more accurate to
analyze the immediate artistic context of this motif. The
direct use of literary sources to understand the conventional
meanings of motifs, undertaken by such scholars as Widengren,
seems to us to be a somewhat risky matter for high antiquity,
when we are necessarily dealing with a severely restricted por-
tion of the material products of a given civilization. While
Widengren seems to succeed, it must be pointed out that there
is no certain way to know that the graphic objects under scru-
tiny are truly homologous with those alluded to in the texts.
Therefore, by concentrating upon the graphic context of
our motif we have been able to isolate the conceptual themes
which accompany it. Paradigmatic for this interest is the ubi-
quitous appearance of the tree motif in association with nur-
turant animals and also celestial emblems. The reoccurrence of
this triple theme is so persistent that the appearance of the
tree without one or both of the accompanying features still
bears the thrust of the total scene. The force of the motif,
set in such a context, revolves around the fructifying value of
the vegetative object. Hence it is a life theme, to state it
in its most general terms, that is being presented. At the
Mesopotamian end of the Fertile Crescent, this theme tended to
center upon the regeneration of nature as a source of suste-
nance in this life, whereas at the Egyptian end, the permanence
of life even beyond death was the prominent issue. But these
two aspects are not mutually exclusive; in both cases divine
power and presence were associated intimately with the life
theme, whatever its particular expression.

The nature of its appearance in certain cultic and mytho-

logical contexts indicates that the essence of the divinity it-
self could be conveyed by this motif. This phenomenon is pre-
dicated upon the existence in ancient prelogical societies of
the sense that form is somehow identical with content, that a
given form presupposes a given content, that a form in some
170

sense is the same as that which it signifies. 14 This may be

called "primitive thought" by some, but given the highly so-
phisticated nature of the civilizations in which such processes
occur, the evaluation "immediate unanalyzed total reaction"
15
seems more appropriate. Yet if the expression of divinity by
metaphor means that the metaphor becomes divine, it does not
mean that its status as metaphor simultaneously could not be
apprehended.
The final stage in evaluating a motif is the most diffi-
cult of all and concerns the attempt to arrive at its intrinsic
meaning, to look at the object as a cultural symbol and to de-
termine what "essential tendencies of the human mind"'''® were
expressed under a given set of historical circumstances by the
theme that that object bears. In literary terms, full-blown
mythological treatment might be considered the source for such
analysis, though all available cultural documents need to be
examined. We have begun in Chapter V to investigate this ul-
timately symbolic level of meaning in our object by considering
the place of arboreal motifs in biblical thought.
While the thematic associations of the life-tree are con-
sistently present, else the metaphoric transposition would lose
its significance, the tree motif in its most vital form in the
Bible is found in expressions of the cosmic awareness of man.
Beginning with the concept of divinity somehow residing in or
manifesting itself in plant life as part of the cosmic struc-
ture, Israel developed the notion of its corporate existence
within sanctified space, the land of Israel, as homologous with
the existence of the cosmic t r e e — t h e world tree or Weltenbaum
— a t the center of God's realm, the cosmos.

II. Spatial Location of the Motif

It remains for us, then, by way of concluding our study

and in order to enhance our comprehension of this third level
of meaning, to return to our object as it stands within the
texts that preserve it for us, viz., within the tabernacle or
•ptilD of early Israel. As a tangible object it was located in
space and involved with space. As an imposing movable object''"''
it was an intimate part of its immediate environment, namely
 171

the sacred space within the sanctuary wherein its mass could
expand and its volume spread out, as do forms of life them-
18
selves. Thus an understanding of its environment is a criti-
cal aspect of understanding the object itself.

A. Sacred space in the ancient Near East

An analysis of the space occupied by the tabernacle meno-

rah is best approached from a phenomenological viewpoint. From
this stance, it is axiomatic that every sanctuary is constitu-
19
ted as an imago mundi, with the cosmos as paradigmatic model.
In this way it can provide the desired link between heaven and
earth and ensure the irruption of the sacred, that which is
preeminently real—the power, efficacity, and source of life
20
and fecundity — a t a specified location. In his desire to re-
main near that numinous locale and the benefits that accrued
therefrom, homo religiosus devised ways of reactualizing the
cosmogony on a multiplicity of scales. With one or more ele-
ments of the cosmic paradigm reproduced, the totality of the
cosmos could be invoked and the divine presence in the cosmos
approached.
Specifically, a series of images which we already have en-
21
countered serve the purpose of creating a sacred center which
makes communication with heaven possible. Within this imagis-
tic complex, certain figures such as the pillar, ladder, tree,
pole, vine, etc., refer in graphic terms to the axis mundi
which has its top in the heavens, the world of the gods. Thus
sanctuaries are structures which, in attempting to render per-
manent the experience of the holy, are characterized by the
homologizing of their architectural features to the cosmos.
The space
reality as enclosed by the
the primeval structure
world thus 22
structure. shares the same sacred
This concept of sanctuary as imago mundi receives another
23
important valorization which must be noted: the sanctuary
exists as an earthly replica of a heavenly model. There is a
transcendent pattern, the supramundane abode of the deity,
which is reproduced on earth. It thus provides a "home" for
him on earth where he is accessible to man. Of course this
transpires on a symbolic level, with the imagined features of
172

the god's abode approximated according to the techniques avail-

able to man. Thus in the mythological understanding of the
sanctuary as cosmos and in the symbolic understanding of cosmos
as replica, the needs of the worshipper to locate the god as
24
closely as possible to himself could be met.
In a series of articles concerning "The Significance of
25
the Temple in the Ancient Near East," the particular expres-
sions of these conceptions of sanctuary in Egypt and in Mesopo-
tamia as well as in Canaan and Israel are investigated. In
Egypt, the temple clearly was imbued with cosmological signi-
ficance and interpreted as a microcosm of the universe, though
this process seems to have been secondary to the evolution of
the building structure. 26 Insofar as the temple as dwelling of
the god reflected the world, various features of its design em-
bodied the natural order: its ceiling was blue and star-
studded, plant-form columns grew out of its earth-floor, a dado
of plants and figures ran along the walls, the two pylon towers
27
were the hills of the horizon, and so on.
In Mesopotamia, the degree to which the sanctuary homolo-
gized the cosmic center is indicated by the importance of the
ziggurat. Temples were in this way assimilated to the cosmic 2 8
mountain and created the connection between heaven and earth.
Further, the model for the construction of temples was ofttimes
29
thought to exist in the divine realm. A similar situation
obtained in Syria-Palestine,^ where the temple was the abode
of the deity and the sacred mountain as site of a shrine pro-
vided the cosmic connection between the cult site and the
heavenly abode of the g o d . ^

B. Sacred place in Israel—the tabernacle

The tabernacle shrine of YHWH exhibits much the same func-

tion as that of shrines in the surrounding cultures. The ela-
borate tabernacle texts are not meant to instruct us in anti-
quities but to present a catalogue of whatever is essential to
32
achieve God's presence in the Israelite camp. Just as the
abode of Baal or El required certain furnishings, so the 'ptiiD
of the Lord required a complement of equipment
33 and provisions
to enable him to "dwell in their midst.
 173

While the tabernacle is a portable shrine, which could not

have a permanent resting place upon a mountain top, the direc-
tions for its fabrication were given upon the mountain and the
materials for its construction were assembled and fashioned
while the people were encamped at the mountain at the conclu-
sion of the covenant ceremony. 34 The whole scene is enacted
underneath the God of Israel in his cosmic shrine: 35

>mttP Tl^K n« 1KT 1 !

- p s o n run"? ntt/yDD T > > m nam
n n o > ••-Dtan D x y m
(Exod 24:10)
The languagè of this passage is akin to that describing
cosmic shrines of gods in both Canaan and Mesopotamia. "PBC,
probably lapis lazuli,^® symbolizes the clear blueness of the
heavens and is the conventional partner of "IHU, meaning
"brightness" or "clearness" in describing the abode of the
37
gods. The immediately following instructions for the taber-
nacle give it the orientation of being the earthly counterpart
of God's cosmic abode, just as the careful attention to fur-
nishings and service serve to accommodate, at least symbolical-
ly, the living God, even though he was in essence independent
of the material environment. Furthermore, the stipulation that
the tabernacle is to be fashioned "according to all that I show
you concerning the pattern (rpjan) of the3 8tabernacle, and of
all its furniture, so you shall make it" is further indica-
tion that the tabernacle in its conception is homologized to a
cosmic counterpart, the model of which is presented to Moses.
All these data establish the cosmological scene of the
tabernacle as drawn from the same imagistic milieu as the sanc-
tuaries of Canaan and Mesopotamia. The points of contact with
Egypt exist in a general way but do not bear the closeness of
orientation that characterize the relationship of the Israelite
pattern with that of her neighbors to the north and east. How-
ever, the fact that Israel 39
has the same cosmological setting
for her portable sanctuary as do the contiguous cultures does
not mean that she shared the mythological basis for such a set-
ting. 40 In fact, Israel despite her usage of mythological lan-
guage to convey the cosmic setting had broken the essential
mythological framework. 41
174

III. The Function of the Motif

Having established the cosmological conception of the

t a b e r n a c l e — w h i c h fact does not preclude its operation at other
l e v e l s — a s well as the currency of arborescent motifs within
the cosmic sphere in Israel, we are in a position to attempt
to evaluate the symbolic value of the tabernacle menorah within
the Israelite cult. Again, we reiterate that literary data
only can be used in the most circumspect way in confronting a
motif which operates as an iconographic form. Even a written
commentary, contemporary with its inception into the biblical
cult, could not identify properly for us the immediate signifi-
cation that the graphic motif possessed.

A. In the tabernacle setting

The form

In a way, the question of how the menorah operated, as

more than an apparatus, within its tabernacle setting already
has been resolved. In identifying the various levels of mean-
ing of its graphic identity, the modalities of its operation
within the minds of those who conceived of its design and who
witnessed its appearance within the shrine have been estab-
lished. Its primary morphological value as a representation of
arboreal or vegetal life has led the way to a comprehension of
the potency of such a representation as a symbolic theme.
In a seemingly universal way, the tree stands for the mys-
tery or secret of life. With its leaves and blossoms and
fruit, with its capacity to remain ever green or to bud anew
each spring, it captures the essence of man's most fundamental
strivings for survival and sustenance in this world and in the
hereafter.''2 The appearance of this theme within Israel cannot
be separated from such life matters. The affective value of
this motif as a life theme must have remained strong, for Is-
rael existed in cultural time and could not divorce herself
fully from the contemporary world to enter completely the rari-
fied world of Yahwistic values and Mosaic faith. Even if it is
in a diminished way, the life theme has a part in the whole
tree typology evident from the biblical sources. How much of
 175

this was an accommodation to the needs of the general populace

and how much of it was inherent in the peak conceptions of the
creative minds responsible for the literary materials is a mat-
ter for speculation.
Yet the emphasis in the literary s o u r c e s — t h e biblical
c o r p u s — i s on the cosmological modality. This need not imply
that the immediate life-value was superseded; rather another
dimension was incorporated into or around that value. In its
homologous relation to the world tree at the sacred center, our
motif helped to solve the problem for the Israelite tribes of
securing the presence of YHWH. Especially under the transi-
tional circumstances of a movable shrine, the tent/tabernacle,
the necessity for achieving the presence of a deity not located
43
at or connected with a geographic focus was acute. The es-
tablishment of fixed sanctuaries, each with some visible, per-
manent symbol, whether natural or artificial, at or through
which the worshipper could come into direct contact with the
god, was an accommodation to the innermost needs of homo reli-
44
gvosus.
The Mosaic transition to the concept of a transcendent
non-located deity did not obviate such needs. The notion of
God's omnipotence and omnipresence was not emotionally convinc-
45
ing, and in cult and prayer the proximity of God was sought.
And insofar as minds are metaphoric by nature, God's nearness
could be expressed symbolically to provide the necessary emo-
tional reassurance. Hence the life theme of the tree motif of
the menorah, in entering the cosmic sphere, can be seen as per-
forming the function within the tabernacle shrine of establish-
ing the center of the center, bringing the organizing principle
of God's presence in the cosmos into visible focus in the midst
of the people. It carried on a process of hierophanization on
an emotional level as only a symbol can. Thus in the reitera-
tion of the command for the divine model to be followed in the
construction of the menorah, the addition of "on the moun-
tain"^® not present in the original injunction has the force of
setting this artifact into its imagistic setting as representa-
tive of God's holy tree on the holy mountain, the pinnacle of
God's presence in the world.
176

The cosmological perspective which characterizes the third

or intrinsic level of meaning of our motif perhaps allowed it
47
to avoid the tendency towards triviality which seems to ac-
company the meaning of the symbol at least at its thematic
level, that is, the life theme. In other words, its cosmic
implications served to help it transcend such trivialities by
bridging the gap between Israel's cultural location on the one
hand and her prophetic faith oriented towards an omnipresent
God and his Law on the other hand. By taking a motif the the-
matic value of which operated ultimately on an iconographic
level, in which deity was equated with symbol, and placing it
within a cult with an essentially aniconographic orientation,
Israel succeeded—at least in its idealistic p e a k s — i n effect-
ing a crucial shift in the unfolding pattern of human response
to the numinous.

The instrument

The menorah as it appears in the tabernacle, whatever the

depths of meaning of its formal existence, never ceases to be
at the same time the bearer of light(s) even in the remote
48 49
stage of a hypothetical Upform. We have already explored
in a limited way in connection with the sneh-event some of the
possibilities for understanding the symbolic value of the
lights, beyond their literal function of providing illumination
for the abode of the deity. The fire of God is seen to reflect
notions both of stormy (destructive) power and of Light and
Truth, with the latter, non-destructive notions prevailing in
Exodus 3."^
By way of addition, the cosmic dimension subsumed into the
light of God motif can be examined. God as source of light is
equated with m P P - n 23 , which in the Sinai typology is repre-
sented by a "consuming fire." Likewise, in Ps 78:14, God's
guiding presence in the wilderness is manifest, by night, in a
"fiery light." 51 In Ezek 1:27-28 and 8:2-4, the "glory of God"
appears in the form of fire: (BS-riKIDD ( m m ) . The context in
Ezekiel 1 is closely reminiscent of the celestial image of
52
God's abode found in Exodus 24. And in the temple vision in
Ezek 43:2, when the "glory of the God of Israel" appears, the
 177

sound is like that of "many waters," a demonstrably cosmic

term;"'3 the visual effect is that "the earth shone with his
glory (111330 nT'Kn VIKH) ," that is, God's glory illuminated
the land as would a light or fire.
All these aspects of light, seen as part of the cosmic
scene, no doubt played a role in establishing a symbolic por-
tent to the lights on the menorah. The very celestial connota-
tions of the root of m i 3D discussed in Chapter II are likewise
relevant. In addition, the celestial element ubiquitous to the
classic heraldic presentation of the tree motif in Semitic
iconography is to be recalled, along with the astral value of
"seven" and the conventional representations of Shamash in
which the flaming god assumes the position usually reserved for
54
the sacred tree. The merger of astral light and arboreal
life is a not infrequent event on the thematic level.
In phenomenological terms, the evidence seems to indicate
that the cosmic paradigm of the center, as point of contact be-
tween heaven and earth, includes not only the mountain and tree
among its elements but also a range of supernal images which
complete the axis mundi at its uppermost extent. In this sense
the sneh-pericope belongs to a group of cosmic images which
combine tree with luminous phenomena. Perhaps the most rele-
vant example of this group in terms of literary sources is the
tale of the olive tree on the Ambrosian rocks of Tyre; this
tree is self-rooted, at the navel of the earth, has a bowl
(=moon) and an eagle (=sun) on top of it, and is in flames but
is not consumed.^
In any case, the lights supported by the menorah partake
of the imagistic paradigm equally with the tree motif. In com-
bination, the symbolic potency of each thereby is enhanced. In
addition, the explicit identification in the biblical sources
of fiery light with God's glory or his very appearance brings
the presence of the lights, no less than the arboreal shape of
their support, very close to symbolizing the deity directly.^
If we consider the fact that the tabernacle, as the first
shrine of the Israelite alliance, was also the first shrine to
reject the presence of an actual image of the deity, then the
presence of our artifact within that shrine served an important
178

function in making the transition from the condition of the

cultus in Israel's milieu, where the ever-present image is the
deity or at least the vehicle for the deity's approach, 5 ^ to
the condition attaining in Israel in which that ultimate medium
for effecting divine presence is expressly forbidden.

B. Consecutive imagery

So much attention has been devoted towards understanding

the significance of the menorah as a symbol in later periods
when its representations proliferate that a brief conspectus of
such scrutiny is appropriate here to round out our inquiry.
While we may mention some of the theories of its meaning, the
phenomenon of its continuation as a potent symbol is our chief
interest. The interpretations offered tend to be grounded in
the literary sources, of which there is a fairly abundant sup-
ply. However, by very dint of their being products of the
world of ideas rather than of forms, their usefulness in a
direct way tends to be mitigated.
Yet the scholarly corpus has not grasped fully that fact.
Even Goodenough, whose voluminous work is based upon the prem-
ise that symbols must be understood as part of a lingua franaa
of graphic religious expression, directed his analysis of the
meaning of the menorah towards a survey of relevant textual
58
references. This was especially true for his treatment of
"Jewish" symbols as opposed to pagan ones, for which he could
readily turn to contemporary artistic forms for elucidation.
His conclusions vis a vis the menorah, that its potency derived
from its association with light, should have been the starting
point for an investigation of the intrinsic meaning of the for-
mal expressions of that commodity in the Greco-Roman world
rather than the culmination of his work with that symbol.
It is interesting to note that, according to Goodenough,
it is the "Light" aspect of the menorah's import which achieves
prominence in the later periods and which seems to be identi-
59
fied with God himself. Morton Smith confirms this comprehen-
sion of the light symbolism being an image of God and adduces
some additional texts, all of which allegorically relate the
menorah to l i g h t . B o t h Goodenough and Smith are cognizant
 179

of the formal relation to the tree motif. Goodenough only

could advance parallels for that aspect from remote antiquity
whereas Smith offers for consideration some more contemporary
materials. However, the thrust of the evidence points to the
tree motif as vestigial and the light motif as paramount.®^
In any case, the fact of its continuing existence as a
powerful symbol points to the potency it exhibited as a symbol
from its inception. Such forms, once they exist in matter, be-
come like a mold in which successively different materials may
be cast, each capable of imbuing the original form with a
wholly new import.® 2 "Once created," as Frankfort puts it,
"their lasting forms challenge the imagination. They may be
charged with a new significance which they themselves call
forth, and stimulate a new integration in alien surroundings."®^
In this sense, the "invention" of archetypal forms within Is-
raelite culture represented a solution to some crucial problem
and as far as it was successful, opened the possibility for
successive solutions which used that form but yet altered it in
the sense that the successive problems which call it forth are
^u
never the same. 64

IV. Summary

The force of this chapter up to this point has been to ar-

rive as closely as possible at the symbolic function served by
the presence of the menorah in the Israelite cult. To begin
with, this object, while part of a carefully-balanced ritual
arrangement, must be treated as an artistic motif rather than
a cult instrument if its significance is to be determined. Not
only do the details of its fabrication and its morphology indi-
cate a status which supersedes the requirements dictated solely
by instrumental needs, but even within the priestly texts,
which are oriented towards its instrumentality, it exhibits a
special position not called for were it an apparatus alone.

As a symbolic motif, the tabernacle menorah can be evalu-

ated on a series of levels befitting its character as an artis-
tic form operating in the realm of iconography, in which ideas
are presented by graphic means. The basic interpretation of
this motif lies in the conventional ways, as has been
180

determined by an examination of comparable manifestations in

ancient Near Eastern cultures, for the expression of vegetal
life.
An understanding of the second level of meaning, the the-
matic values associated with the depiction of vegetal life,
also has been achieved through comparative methods. The life
theme, whether it be the sustaining of life in this world or
the securing of life in the next world, is the crucial aspect
of this symbol in the cultural milieu from which Israel
emerged. In this way, the essence of divinity itself as the
ultimate source or grantor or guarantor of life is conveyed by
this particular artistic form. Our evaluation of the thematic
value attached to vegetal life in biblical literature has shown
that the life theme is indeed present in reference to the tree
motif.
However, it is on the third and ultimately symbolic level
of evaluation that the particular Israelite response to the
presence of the motif can be educed. The difficulty in exam-
ining this response lies in the fact that any reaction to a
form existing in space is of necessity an affective one, a mat-
ter of feelings and so not lending itself to rational descrip-
tion. Yet, as a form it existed within a particular atmos-
phere. By identifying this atmosphere, namely, the cosraologi-
cal setting of the tabernacle, we are in a position to approach
the symbolic function of the menorah within that setting.
It is the cosmological modality of the tree motif which
constitutes the most vital and pervasive way in which it ap-
pears in the biblical sources and which provides the means for
our attempts to comprehend its symbolic position within the
cult. The most profound development of the life theme, in
which divinity itself could be expressed in arborescent terms,
opens the possibility for a symbol of the cosmic tree within
the tabernacle precinct to contribute towards securing the
reality of God's presence. Precisely because its physical
properties and dimensions were familiar and active could it
achieve the potency as a symbol that contributed to the assur-
ance of divine accessibility yet, because of its participation
in the cosmic paradigm, did not have to symbolize God himself.
 181

In addition, the presence of the lights, with their own cosmic

portent, increased the symbolic value of the total object.

PART TWO. HISTORICAL AND METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS

I. Chronological Information

It has become obvious that in discussing the role of the

menorah in the Israelite cult we have assumed that it in fact
can be located in the cultus of the wilderness period. This
assumption flies in the face of the older variety of biblical
criticism, exemplified by the statement of Cook: "There is no
critical evidence to support the supposition that the temple
[sic] candelabrum described by P in Exod 25:31ff. 37:17ff. ex-
isted before the e x i l e . E v e n today, some scholars hold to
the notion that the entire description of the tabernacle is an
invention of the Second Temple period intended to give Mosaic
sanctity to an elaborate temple cult and also to glorify the
past;®'' the menorah in this view is a projection into the wil-
derness period in an effort to legitimize the restoration
cult. Even Haran, much of whose work tends to validate the
antiquity of the tabernacle traditions, supposes that the me-
norah of the tabernacle was patterned after those of the Solo-
i
monic temple. 68

While we shall avoid the issue of the date of the priestly

traditions from a literary standpoint, we must point out the
corrective tendency in contemporary scholarship which now sees
preserved in P a cultic tradition deriving from the desert era.
The wilderness period, being the "creative and normative period
of Israel's political and religious history,"^® is the era to
which the tabernacle tradition is attributed; the cultic organ-
ization of the tribal groups, albeit schematized and idealized,
is to be seen as taking place under Mosaic leadership no less
than the politico-legal organization. The very nature of the
shrine, as a portable enclosure, bespeaks its essential anti-
quity. Furthermore, certain careful studies of individual
aspects of priestly tradition have been programmatic in estab-
lishing their pre-monarchic antiquity. A case in point is
Jacob Milgrom's work in demonstrating that the concept of the
182

Levitic and priestly duty of guarding reaches back to the

earliest tribal memories of a guarded cultic shrine in the
72
wilderness. In addition, Freedman's work on early Israelite
poetry, specifically the Song of the Sea, shows the setting for
the earliest evidence of Yahwistic religion to be at a southern
wilderness sanctuary, a sacred area at YHWH's mountain at Sinai
or Horeb. 73

A. The wilderness period

With respect to the tabernacle menorah, its authentic
place in the traditions of the wilderness period has been as-
sumed in this study because the archaeological data that have
been adduced in preceding chapters cannot allow us to do other-
wise. On every level, the details of its fabricature and form
point to it as a manifestation of a material culture that can
be located in time at the end of the Late Bronze Age. Speci-
fically:
1) The six-branch-plus-central-axis arrangement which is
its chief morphological characteristic and also the essence of
its symbolic value is to be located in the particular stylized
expression of the tree motif of the Late Bronze period. This
motif exists in graphic form throughout the history of the an-
cient Near East, but it is precisely during the LB II period,
which coincides with the wilderness period of Israel, that its
treatment becomes the direct parallel of that found in the
tabernacle menorah. Furthermore, this particular treatment of
the motif can be localized in the geographic areas from which
74
the proto-Israelite tribes emerged.
2) In addition, various details of the menorah's fabrica-
tion have been shown to have been drawn from artistic tenden-
cies current—in the Syro-Palestinian area especially under
Egyptian influence—in the Late Bronze Age during Egyptian
hegemony over Canaanite territory. The development of the
simple ring molding, ubiquitous on cultic stands for millennia
of history in both Egypt and Mesopotamia, into a repetitive
motif and simultaneously into an architectonic floral capital
is concentrated at the eastern Mediterranean at the end of the
Late Bronze Age.7^
 183

3) Similarly, the appearance of the double-bowl lamp,

which bears some relation to the V 3 J , is most common in Pales-
tinian contexts dating to LB II, though its extra-Palestinian
antecedents are earlier and its subsequent evolution, chiefly
outside of Palestine, into a closed lamp with central wick tube
-, ^ 76
is later.
4) Finally, as a member of the category of cultic stands,
the menorah belongs to the nearly omnipresent form of cylindri-
cal stand with flaring or thickened lower portion which goes
back to earliest times in the ancient Near East but which does
not survive past the Iron Age. At that point, tripodal metal
stands, perhaps tentatively present already early in the Iron
Age, become the v o g u e . "
One of the chief objections to the possibility, which the
above evidence brings to the brink of certitude, of the exis-
tence in the wilderness period of an artifact such as described
in the parallel accounts in Exodus is that such a costly and
intricate object would be grossly out of context with both the
economy and the technical capabilities of a semi-nomadic exis-
78
tence. While not insisting on the golden reality of the ob-
ject, two considerations that may mitigate the tendency to pre-
clude this reality need to be offered.
For one thing, the "semi-nomadic" concept of tribal life
in the wilderness is an exaggeration if not a distortion of the
actual facts. The very discontent reflected by the constant
murmurings during this period indicates that the tribes were
distinctly not at ease with the environment forced upon them.
Those tribes that had been in Egypt had been settled in the
Delta region in an agricultural milieu, and the contrasting un-
certainties of a wandering existence were not congenial. Tri-
bal organization per se is not to be taken as a manifestation
of a bedouin existence; tribal configurations continue to exist
long after a transition to an agronomic or even an urban pat-
79
tern has been effected. Thus the concept of a circumscribed
sort of artistic tradition or a poverty of means that may to
some extent be associated with a semi-nomadic existence does
not apply necessarily to the post-Exodus Israelite tribes. And
even if the tribes should be identified with a bedouin-like
184

existence, that in itself does not preclude metallurgical ar-

tistry; on the contrary, certain nomadic tribes of tinkers were
quite specialized in such matters.
The second consideration is a technical one. There is a
tradition in the book of Exodus that a fair modicum of silver
and gold, perhaps by way of despoiling the oppressors or per-
haps by way of representing the only method for transporting
material possessions on a journey, was taken with the children
80
of Israel out of Egypt. The strength of this tradition is
displayed in Psalm 105, an Exodus motif psalm, which fails to
record the Sinai event yet includes the possession of silver
and gold among its catalogue of memorable events of the Exodus
period: "Then he led forth Israel with silver and gold, and
there was none among his tribes who stumbled" (v. 37).
In conjunction with this, it is to be recalled that while
the original lot of the proto-Israelite tribes in the Delta re-
gion may have been an agricultural existence, at least part of
the group in the immediate pre-Exodus period was involved in
technological labor in connection with the Pharoah's building
projects. Further, the technological and artistic skills re-
quired to follow the blueprint for the tabernacle is seen as
81
arising from within Israel, with Bezalel and his assistants.
This is to be contrasted with the Solomonic necessity for im-
porting Tyrian craftsmen. The implication that indigenous
technical skill, acquired while sojourning in the midst of a
technically advanced society and lost by the time of the Solo-
monic project, accords well with the Egyptian orientation of82
the procedures involved in the construction of the menorah.
In short, we must conclude that the evidence points over-
whelmingly to the existence during the end of the Late Bronze
Age of the specific combination of details of form and manufac-
ture which characterize the tabernacle menorah. Insofar as
this coincides with the Exodus-Wilderness period of at least
some portion of the Israelite tribes, the very period to which
tradition ascribes the inception of the tabernacle/tent as an
Israelite institution, the traditions concerning the fabrica-
tion of the menorah within that sanctuary must be seen as an
authentic part of the Exodus narratives.
 185

B. Subsequent history

Although the tabernacle menorah is demonstrably a part of

the cultic tradition of the wilderness period, its subsequent
history within the biblical tradition is of considerable inter-
est. Assuming that the ultimate fate of the "original" arti-
83
fact is linked with the history of the Shiloh shrine, the
next major expression of this artifact would be in the temple
of Solomon. There is no evidence, however, that a menorah of
the sort connected with the wilderness shrine existed in that
84
edifice. The ten menorahs seem to be related only instru-
mentally, though of course that has implications for the sym-
bolic continuity, to the tabernacle artifact. And if Zechar-
iah's vision has any reliability for the First Temple, it in-
forms us that the menorahs were not branched but were lamp-
stands supporting seven-spouted lamps, typical of those found
in cultic contexts in Palestine from the Middle Bronze Age to
the Iron A g e . ^ In this case, the arborescent motif borne by
the branched shape would have been diminished, and the light
motif borne by the lamps would have been intensified.
For some reason, the menorah as bearer of the tree motif
was no longer needed in the Israelite sanctuary. It only can
be conjecture, but the possibility is to be entertained that
once a fixed location for YHWH's shrine was established on
God's holy mountain in Jerusalem, a grove of living trees re-
placed the menorah as the vehicle for that part of the cosmic
imagery of the sanctuary. Note the language of the psalmist in
this respect:
But I am like a green olive tree
in the house of God.
(Ps 52:8)
and: The righteous flourish like the palm tree,
and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
They are planted in the house of the Lord,
they flourish in the courts of our God.

to show that the Lord is upright.

(Ps 92:12-13, 15)

Or, just as the living trees in the old patriarchal sanctuaries

precluded the necessity for symbolic ones, perhaps the frieze
of palm trees and flowers and cherubim as well as the extensive
186

use of cedar wood®® in the house of God in Jerusalem contri-

buted sufficiently to the cosmic imagery and obviated the ne-
cessity for an artificial apparatus, especially one that might
be uncomfortably close to undesirable features of Canaanite
,. . 87
religion.
In short, we cannot be certain of the fate of the taber-
nacle artifact during the First Temple period. But the subse-
quent emergence of the centrality of the light motif—albeit in
a branched form no doubt inspired by the Exodus texts—leads us
to believe that the symbolic force of the arborescent motif was
either not present in the Solomonic lampstands, especially if
their form was akin to the seven-spouted lamps resting on cy-
lindrical stands of the Iron Age (and reflected in Zechariah),
or, if present, was diminished or overshadowed by the presence
of other vegetal expressions which could not have been incor-
porated into a portable sanctuary but which were present in the
Jerusalem temple.
After the rupture of the exile, the rebuilding of the tem-
ple was effected with considerable urgency to help restore the
bruised tradition of God's presence in Israel. The seemingly
excessive emphasis upon the temple vessels themselves can be
seen as a way of coping with the need to establish continuity
between the situation preceding the disaster and the state of
88
affairs following it. In the process of cataloguing the ma-
terials and remaking the vessels, the "reality link" was
achieved, joining the order which is traced back continually
into the past with the present order and thus authenticating
89
the present experience. The same phenomenon no doubt lies at
the basis of the continuing refabrication of the temple vessels
following each minor rupture within the Second Temple period as
well as, to some extent, the proliferation of representations
of objects from the cult, notably the menorah, after 70 C.E.
The renewed interest in P traditions during the 6th cen-
tury can best be related to this concern for the replacement
of the temple structure and vessels. Thus, the refabrication
of the menorah would be expected to follow the directions, as
best as they could be understood, as they appeared in the
priestly archives, the tabernacle texts. Indeed, the various
 187

sources for the renditions of the raenorah in Second Temple

times give the impression of attempts which were made to repro-
duce the tabernacle archetype—the return of the use of a sin-
gle lampstand as opposed to the Solomonic ten is prima faeie
evidence of that attempt—but which could not replicate that
model because of the alterations in technology and artistic
fashion, to say nothing of language, that had transpired in the
centuries that had elapsed between the composition of the core
of the Pentateuchal descriptions and the endeavors of craftsmen
90
from the 6th century onwards. The preponderance of tripodal
bases, for example, reflects the utilization of the available
post-6th century typology of metal stands as a class of objects
and thus the failure to comprehend the earlier typology of cul-
tic stands.
The symbolism of the Second Temple menorah derives from
the light motif as representing God's presence, as we already
have seen. The understanding of the menorah in Zechariah, who
stood at a pivotal point between the two Jerusalem temples, is
particularly pertinent here. The shape of the lampstand in his
vision reflects what he had seen in Solomon's temple. But the
single object of the Priestly tradition is what he projects
into the still uncompleted temple of Zerubbabel and Joshua.
The seven lamps have celestial import. The two trees do not
mirror the form of the lampstand—it did not have that branched
form—but rather present the cosmic image of joint arborescent
Messiahs. In flanking the menorah (4:14), the two royal
princes of Israel are standing alongside God, the Lord of the
whole earth (yiKn->3 p i K - ^ v D^Tnyn -irt2f">n-'':i:i •'it»). Thus the
lampstand in this vision represents God and the lamps are his
eyes. This conception is to be related to the biblical connec-
91
tion of the God of light with fire.

This sequence of representations of the menorah belongs to

the phenomenon of consecutive imagery discussed above. The
tabernacle menorah initiated a potent symbol in the biblical
cult which, for the sake of continuity and all that was at
stake in achieving that, repeatedly was reintroduced into the
official shrine and eventually, following the cessation of that
188

central cult, irrupted into the "everyday" symbolic vocabulary

of the people, in synagogues and tombs, on amulets and lamps.
The survival of the symbol represents a continuity theme, to be
92
sure; but it is a continuity m change and never a survival
of the original meaning itself but only of the meaning as it is
recharged to fit the moment.
Thus the application of the name "menorah" to a succession
of artifacts in itself achieves the goal of an unbroken chain
of tradition, no matter how different in appearance
93 or in mean-
ing the various artifacts so designated may be. With this in
mind, the confusion created by scholars in trying to reconcile
various biblical and post-biblical descriptions of the menorah
should be dissipated; successive descriptions have the name in
common but not the artifact.

II. Cultural Affinities

At this point it is possible to make some observations on

the amalgamation of cultural attributes that the tabernacle
menorah represents. The overwhelming result of the evidence
adduced in Chapters II and IV is to place the technological and
"decorative" aspects of its fabrication in close relationship
with the artistic achievements of Egyptian civilization. The
general principles of architectonic design by which plant forms
are translated into structural elements are reflected in the
vegetal aspect of much of the terminology used to describe the
artifact. The repetitive nature of the elements can likewise
be linked with values inherent in Egyptian art; the four-fold
grouping of motifs on the central portion of the artifact is
94
morphologically related to the Djed.
In addition, specific features of its embellishment, such
as the mnSDT iHS element, seem to be related to developments
in Egyptian columnation. These developments influenced styles
among pottery and stone stands, and presumably metal ones as
well, in the Aegeo-Egypto-Canaanite
95 sphere, particularly during
the Late Bronze period.
Furthermore, the nature of the V m , itself purported to
be an Egyptian loan word, can be linked tentatively with the
archaeological reality of the double-bowl lamp, for which an
 189

Egyptian origin seems possible.®® The contextual relationship

of PDP with Egyptian marshes also is to be noted. And in a
general sense, Egyptian superiority over a very long period of
time in matters of metallurgical technology can be seen as the
background for the precise technical directions, appropriate to
the exigencies of form of our artifact, for the usage of sheet
gold.
However, if in matters of technology and in details of de-
sign the tabernacle menorah bears the imprint of Egyptian in-
fluence, its intimate connection with light, its numerical con-
nection with seven (in the form of six-plus-one), and its sym-
bolic value deriving from its vegetal form ail put it in close
relationship with Semitic culture. While there are points of
contact with features of Mesopotamian culture that were present
as early as the 3rd millennium, it is within the particular
iconographic expressions disseminating from a northern Mesopo-
tamian epicenter into Syria, Palestine, and Cyprus at the end
of the Late Bronze Age that the closest parallels can be iden-
tified. Thus, just as the chronological evidence evinced above
places the tabernacle menorah within the time-setting of the
wilderness period, the cultural affinities here evaluated tend
to do the same.

The whole matter of Egyptian influence upon the Israelite

97
cult has been a somewhat open question. Yet there has been
considerable scholarly movement towards dealing with the real-
ity of the sojourn for a portion of the proto-Israelite
tribes 9 8 as well as with the technical affinities with Egypt of
99
such items as musical instruments and weights and measures.
Even more important has been the willingness to accept a strong
Egyptianizing background for Moses and the Aaronides and
Levites with the concomitant implications for formative influ-
ence upon both prophetic religion and cultic organization.
There is also the weight of language study, such as that of
Hurvitz, which concludes that certain "Egyptianisms" in the
tabernacle descriptions are independent of the terminology of
the "theocratic circles" of the restoration and later and
should instead be considered as evidence of very early mater-
ial, going back to an Egyptian environment, preserved in the
• 101
priestly writings.
190

Our discoveries with respect to the tabernacle menorah

lend support towards the trend for the recognition of an Egyp-
tianizing background for the cult, which no doubt is derived
from patterns to which the people were accustomed. The Exodus
period, unquestionably the moment when such Egyptian influences
most strongly were felt, coincided with the creation of the
102
central institutions of the Israelite cult. However, no
matter how deeply the proto-Israelite tribes may have been as-
similated into Ramesside culture, the fact remains that a good-
ly portion if not all of proto-Israel remained at the same time
firmly grounded in Semitic culture. The Mesopotamian epic
and legal traditions reflected in the Bible were transmitted
largely in Akkadian, the lingua franaa of the ancient Near East
even for Egypt. Similarly, the lingua franaa of symbolic and
graphic expression of cultural ideas was that of Mesopotamian
culture. In the case of literary influences, much of Israel's
heritage from the wider Near Eastern104
patterns can be seen as
mediated through Canaanite culture. Similarly, we have seen
that in the case of the tree motif embodied in the menorah, the
local glyptic and ceramic arts of LB Canaan, and also in a
limited way of Cyrpus,^®"' provide the medium of transmission^"®
Yet the end result of all this cultural input into the be-
ginnings of the Israelite cult is a product that is distinct
from all these influences. The tabernacle menorah, for all its
crucial points of contact or identity with Egyptian or Mesopo-
tamian or Canaanite or Aegean motifs and techniques, as a total
object is not rooted in any of these cultures nor is it rooted
in the psyche of a Moses or an Aaron or a Bezalel. Rather it
is grounded in the corporate experience of Israel as it came to
be expressed in the structures and forms of the tabernacle in-
stitution during the wilderness period.
To view it in this manner is to come to grips with the
problem stated by Frankfort: do similar manifestations repre-
108
sent similar themes, institutions, processes of thought?
The similarities, no matter how striking, do not tell the whole
story. In coming into existence as a total object, an artifact
attains a uniqueness which is predicated upon the fact that it
differs in some ways, which may be minute or extensive, from
 191

even its closest parallels. Thus the existence of similari-

ties may presuppose some agreements, but the production of an
object that in its totality is like no other object affirms
that it has emerged from its cultural matrix and has achieved
its own intrinsic symbolic value.

III. Towards a New "Biblical Archaeology"

It is appropriate that since this investigation began with

the assertion that biblical a r t i f a c t s — t h o s e buried in texts
rather than in d e b r i s — d e m a n d the same sort of treatment which
is accorded to objects unearthed in the course of regular ex-
cavations or explorations, it should conclude with a reconsid-
109
eration of that approach. Doubts have been raised as to the
availability of sufficient materials either in the texts them-
selves or in the world of material remains to permit the acqui-
sition of an adequate understanding of the nature of an object
and subsequently to carry out the ultimate goal of archaeologi-
cal research, namely, determining the usage or function of the
object in the lives of those for whom it was a material reality
and also, in the special matter of "cultic" objects, attaining
an insight into the ideational framework within which the ob-
ject operated.
While we would not want to say that such doubts about the
availability of data are i l l - f o u n d e d — f o r in reality there is a
great deal of validity to such a p p r e h e n s i o n — i t seems that this
basically archaeological methodology, even though applied to an
object that can never be visually reconstructed, has succeeded
in bringing us very close indeed to its phenomenological real-
ity, its symbolic power. As a matter of fact, its very sym-
bolic nature, which means that it operates on a non-verbal
level and hence ultimately defies verbal explanation, demands
that it be approached in the first instance and as far as pos-
sible as a visual, material reality.
Still, we are at some advantage in dealing with the par-
ticular object which has been the subject of this work as op-
posed to various other biblical artifacts. Because it evident-
ly was such a vital symbol, its existence was the center of un-
usual literary concern. This has provided us with an
192

inordinately large amount of textual material for a starting

point. Similarly, since it was drawn from a milieu in which
its specific form represented a matter of deep concern, there
happens to be an overabundance of archaeological materials with
which to work. Such fortuitous conditions hardly would apply
to every artifact appearing in the biblical corpus. However,
surely there are others, especially within the priestly texts
of the Pentateuch, for which a fair measure of both basic text-
ual information and relevant comparative data would be acces-
sible and which would thus be candidates for the sort of analy-
sis to which the tabernacle menorah has been subjected.

The scholarly rewards of such analysis should be evident.

The quest for the technological, artistic, and iconographic
origins of the tabernacle menorah has enabled us to ascertain
its role in the biblical cult at its outset and to appreciate
its force as a continuing motif. At the same time, our close
scrutiny of its form and details in a comparative sense—and
this is an indispensable step in all archaeological research—
has afforded us the opportunity, based on the information re-
trieved in this way, to make cogent suggestions regarding
chronological and cultural relationships.
In so doing, perhaps we can put an end to the argument
currently raging, albeit in a somewhat tongue-in-cheek fashion,
among soul-searching archaeologists as to what is meant by the
term "biblical archaeology."'''''''' The epithet "biblical" is the
cause of all the dissension. Does it impose theological or
chronological or geographical limitations upon a scientific en-
deavor which legitimately cannot accede to any such restraints?
Therefore, if we were to use "biblical" before archaeology as
an indication of the specific literary source, i.e. the Bible,
of artifactual data rather than as a description of a special
kind of field archaeology appropriate to the biblical period or
biblical lands, the imprecision and inaccuracy of the phrase
which has so troubled contemporary Palestinian archaeologists
would vanish.

Instead, "biblical archaeology" would designate the possi-

bilities of a procedure such as has been followed in this in-
vestigation. It would indicate a discipline intimately
 193

related to field archaeology and its techniques yet distant in

that its "field" is the biblical text. It would describe a
process which takes artifacts from that biblical text and
which, with the utilization of all the tools available for
dealing with them as physical forms, enables us to enter the
human world in which they existed.
 NOTES

CHAPTER VI

"''See especially "The Priestly Image of the Tabernacle,"

HUCA 36 (1965), pp. 191-226, and "The Complex of Ritual Acts
Performed inside the Tabernacle," pp. 272-302.
2
See above, p. 20.

^See above, pp. 83-84.

4
See above, pp. 57-58.

^See above, p. 26.

®See above, pp. 70-72.

^There is no question that the statement in Num 8:4 re-
fers exclusively to the menorah and to no other gold appurte-
nance. However, it should be noted that there is a certain am-
biguity in Exod 25:40 in which the antecedent may well be the
menorah and its utensils; but it could alternately, in the
phrase "all these utensils," recapitulate the directions of
Exod 25:9 and refer to all of the golden objects. Compare Exod
37: 24 in which "vessels" (rT>>3) , because of the feminine suf-
fix, indicates the menorah; perhaps this is the original intent
and Exod 25:39 is generalized because of the association of the
following verse with Exod 25:9.
8
Exod 31:8.
9
The expression m n o n n u o n is found also m Lev 24:4.
Then, in v. 6, reference is made to m n o n '¡n>Hn. However, the
•¡n>B is not so described in the summations in Exodus, and the
appearance here of that quality seems to be from the influence
of the immediately preceding mode of presentation of the meno-
rah.

"''"as by Haran, "Priestly Image of the Tabernacle," p. 205.

"^As in Exod 24:10. On "ints, see above, pp. 27-28 and be-
low, p. 173 and n. 46. Note the description of the kiikanu-
tree (cited in Widengren, pp. 6, 8), "its appearance is lapis
lazuli," i.e. it shines; this is part of the stereotyped combi-
nation of "lapis lazuli" and "shining brightness."
12
Cf. the distinction made by Kubler, quoted above in
Chap. I, n. 5, between an object of use and a work of art.
13
S e e Chap. I, pp. 4-5 and n. 10.
14 . . .
On this point see Thorkild Jacobsen, Seminar in Ancient
Near Eastern Religions: "The Data, Continuity and Change," Sem-
inar on Religions in Antiquity, ed. Jacob Neusner, Hanover,

195
196

New Hampshire: Dartmouth College Cooperative Studies Center,

1966, p. 3.

Panofsky, Studies in laonology, p. 15. This stage of

evaluation can be said to constitute the study called iconol-
ogy, which is a variety of cultural history; see Kubler, pp.
26-27.
17
The tree motif is inseparable from its "archaeological"
classification as a stand, just as in Sumerian and neo-Sumerian
culture and in Mitanni culture and the cultures directly influ-
enced by Mitanni culture, the stylized tree or branch rests on
or is part of a classic cultic stand. The Egyptian Djed as
well as the Egyptian stand with the lotus blossom can be seen
as part of the same scheme of arrangement. See above, pp.
59-60, 61, 67, 99, 102, 103 and 109-10.
1 ff
Cf. Focillon, p. 27.
19
See Mircea Eliade, The Saared and the Profane {Harper
Torchbooks, Cloister Library TB 814) , trans. Willard R. Trunk,
New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1961, p. 45. His first
chapter, pp. 20-67, deals particularly with sacred space; see
also his selected bibliography, pp. 234-43.
20
Ibid., p. 28.
21
See above, Chap. Ill, p. 135 and passim.
22
Cf. Brevard Childs, Myth and Reality in the Old Testa-
ment (Studies in Biblical Theology, 27), London: SCM Press,
Ltd., 1960, p. 85; Childs calls this "mythical space" in that
it recalls the cosmogenic act which is expressed in mythical
terms.
23
Only in the "great oriental religions," according to
Eliade, The Saered and the Profane, p. 58.
2<
*See on this point, the needs of the worshipper for the
divine presence, Baruch A. Levine, "On the Presence of God in
Biblical Religion," Religions in Antiquity (Supplement to
Hitmen, XIV), ed, Jacob Neusner, Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968, pp.
71-87; R. E. Clements, God and Temple, Oxford: Basil Blackwell,
1965, pp. 1-11; and also Menahem Haran's critique of Clements,
"The Divine Presence in the Israelite Cult and the Cultic In-
stitutions," Bibliaa 50 (1969), pp. 251-67.
25
I n BAR I, Chapter 12.
26
H a r o l d A. Nelson, "The Egyptian Temple," BAR I: 150-51.
21
Ibid., pp. 151-52.
28
Cf. Frankfort, Art and Architecture, pp. 6-7; A. Leo
Oppenheim, "The Mesopotamian Temple," BAR I: 159; and Kramer,
p. 136.
 197

29
See Eliade, The Saered and the Profane, pp. 59-60.
3
®For a summary of the evidence see G. Ernest Wright, "The
Temple in Syria-Palestine," BAR Is 169-84. For Canaan in par-
ticular, see Cross, BAR I: 220. See also above, Chap. V, n.
41.
3
^Cf. Clements, pp. 3-17. In addition, the "high hill/
green tree" combination discussed above, pp. 142-43, surely re-
flects the cultic application of the cosmic paradigm in Canaan-
ite religion.
32
So U. Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Exodus,
trans. Israel Abrahams, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1967, p. 320,
and also Peter Ackroyd, "The Temple V e s s e l s — a continuity
theme," Studies in the Religion of Ancient Israel (Supplement
to VT, XXIII), Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1972, p. 170.
33
E x o d 25:8. On "dwell" and pffl, see above, Chap. V, pp.
147-48 and n. 62.
34
For the relationship of tent/tabernacle and mountain
with reference to Ugaritic material, see Richard J. Clifford,
"The Tent of El and the Israelite Tent of Meeting," CBQ 33
(1971), pp. 221-25.
35
E x o d u s 24. Cf. Fishbane, p. 17.
36
S o BOB, p. 705, and KB, p. 664. Cf. Ezek 1:26, which is
in a similar context describing the enthroned glory of the
Lord.
3
^See above in this chapter, pp. 167-68 and nn. 9 and 11,
and pp. 27-28 in Chapter II. int3 here bears the connotation
"brightness" more so than "purity."
38
Exod 25:9. See above, p. 167, and Levine, "Descriptive
Tabernacle Texts," p. 308, for additional comment on the tabnit
typology. Further information on this typology from Mesopo-
tamia is produced by W. L. Moran, "A New Fragment of DIN.TIR.
KI = BABILU and ENUMA ELIS vi: 61-66," Analeota Bibliaa 12
(1959), pp. 257-65.
on
As well as for her temple; cf. Clements, p. 65, and ARI,
pp. 148-55.
4
® S e e Walter Harrelson, "The Significance of Cosmology in
the Ancient Near East," Translating and Understanding the Old
Testament (May festschrift), ed. Harry Thomas Frank and William
L. Reed, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1970, pp. 246-47.
41
S e e Childs, pp. 85-92, for a detailed discussion of the
biblical demythologization of mythical space. See also Menahem
Haran, "The Ark and the Cherubim: Their Symbolic Significance
in Biblical Ritual," IEJ 9 (1955), p. 92.
198

42
Again, see James, The Tree of Life, pp. 285-88 and also
his "The Tree of Life and the Water of Life," Religion und
Religionen (Mensching festschrift), Bonn: Ludwig Rohrsheid Ver-
lag, 1967, p. 130.
43
At the same time, the non-location" of God can be seen
as part of the dynamics for the achievement of the rejection of
the natural world as a framework for meaning and structure. On
this point, see the interesting analysis of Denis Baly, "The
Geography of Monotheism," Translating and Understanding the Old
Testament (May festschrift), ed. Harry Thomas Frank and William
L. Reed, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1970, pp. 268-72.
44
W. R. Smith, The Religion of the Semites, pp. 116-17.
45
See L e v m e , On the Presence of God."
46
See above, pp. 167-68. In addition, the epithet m i n i a in
Exod 31:8 and 39:37, if we can remove it from the notion of
"pure gold," also belongs to the cosmic vocabulary of heavenly
shrines; see above, pp. 167-68, 173.
47
See above, p. 9.
48
See above, p. 26.
49
Above, pp. 145-46.

Ibid.
51
Hebrew t»K U K . The RSV understands this combination,
correctly we believe, as a hendiadys.
52
Discussed above, p. 173.
53
S e e above, Chap. V, n. 93.
54
All these features are dealt with in Chapter IV. Note
also in Chapter III, pp. 63, 82, the association of stand,
bowl, and seven-pointed flame.
5
^Butterworth, pp. 85-6; the source is the Dionysiaaa of
Nonnos, a 5th century C.E. mythological poem. Also note the
traditions in Africanus and Eusthathius, cited (second hand) in
Smith, The Religion of the Semites, p. 193, that the terebinth
at Mamre was on fire but did not burn. The iconographic
sources for such combinations already have been touched upon
in Chapters III and IV.

^ C o m p a r e Widengren's analysis of the sacred tree in Meso-

potamian religion, p. 19; he believes it was in fact the visi-
ble symbol of the deity.
57
An incisive discussion of the relation of deity to image
in Mesopotamia can be found in A. Leo Oppenheim, Ancient Meso-
potamia, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964, pp. 183-
98.
 199

CO
See JSGRP IV (Chapter IV, "The Menorah"), pp. 71-98, and
XII: 79-83.
59
Ibid., ad loo.
60,,
The Image of God," BJRL XL (1957-1958), pp. 497-512.

however, the studies of W. Wirgin, "The Menorah as

Symbol of After-Life," IE J 14 (1964), pp. 102-104, and "The
Menorah as Symbol of Judaism," IEJ 12 (1962), pp. 140-42. In
the latter article, he places the menorah's value after the
destruction of the temple in relation to its symbolizing the
Edenic paradigm and hence the concept of immortality. Unfor-
tunately, both these articles are so cursory that it is impos-
sible to evaluate them properly.
62
The analogy is that of Focillon, p. 5. He also suggests
that a form can even survive, devoid of meaning, for a long
period of time and then richly renew itself under new stimuli.
^Problem of Similarity , p. 22.
64
Kubler would call this phenomenon "linked solutions," in
which each new serial position is really both a replica and an
invention; see pp. 33-53, 63-70.
I: 644. See also the partial bibliography in Mena-
Ijem Haran, "Shiloh and Jerusalem: the Origin of the Priestly
Tradition of the Pentateuch," JBL 81 (1962), p. 5.
66
E.g., Joseph Gutmann, "The 'Second Commandment 1 and the
Image in Judaism," No Graven Images, ed. Joseph Gutmann, New
York: Ktav Publishing House, Inc., 1971, p. 5.
®^Joseph Gutmann, "A Note on the Temple Menorah," ZNU 60
(1969), p. 290.
68
"Shiloh and Jerusalem," p. 14, and EJ 11: 1357, 1359.

this subject see, among many treatments, Moshe Green-

berg, "A New Approach to the History of the Israelite Priest-
hood," JAOS 70 (1950), pp. 41-45; this is really a summary of
Y. Kaufmann's case for the pre-exilic composition of P in its
entirety. Also important in this matter is the work of Cross
in BAR I: 215-16 and more recently Canaanite Myth, pp. 293-325
(ch. 11, "The Priestly Work").

'"cross, BAR I: 208.

71
Cf. M. H. Segal, The Pentateuch, Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 1967, pp. 43-44; Kaufmann, pp. 180-83; and Hans-Joachim
Kraus, Worship in Israel, trans. Geoffrey Buswell, Richmond:
John Knox Press, 1965, pp. 129-34.
72
Studies in Levitioal Terminology, I: The Eneroaaher and
the Levite. The Term 'Aboda (Near Eastern Studies, 14),
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1970, p. 56. His
200

study of 'aboda brings him to the same conclusion, p. 87, that

this too belongs to the "fast-growing portfolio" of authentic
artifacts of the earliest levels of Israelite history.
73
"Early Israelite History ," pp. 4-12.
74
See above. pp.. 103, 112, 113-14, 117, 119.
75
See above, pp.. 73, 79, 82.
76
See above, pp.. 70-72.
77
See above, pp., 73, 78-79
78
E.g.,, Haran, ''Shiloh and Jerusalem," pp. 17
mann, "The 'Second Commandment,'" p. 5; and Kaufmann, p. 328,
n. 13.
79
This seems to be the case on the basis of biblical tra-
ditions. See Raphael Patai, The Arab Mind, New York: Charles
Scribner's Sons, 1973, pp. 73-76, for a description of how this
is true even in contemporary Arab society.
80
Exod 3:22, 12:35-36, and also 35:22; only the gold from
earrings among the collection was involved in Exod 32:2-3 for
the fabrication of the molten calf.
81
Exod 31:1-6; in addition, the golden calf is fashioned
by Aaron himself, Exod 32:4.
82
See above, pp. 31, 39.
83
See Cross, BAR I: 213-14.
84
See above, pp. 35-36.
8
^See above, pp. 26, 70.
o f:
Cf. the name of Solomon's palace, which makes even more
extensive use of cedar wood: The House of the Forest of Lebanon
(1 Kgs 7:2).
87
Ironically, such features may have entered the official
Israelite cult, though perhaps not in Jerusalem, in the form of
asherim; cf. 2 Kgs 13:6 and Hos 4:12. That the expectation for
a temple grove or sacred plant still existed in the Second Tem-
ple period can be seen in the citation of Hecateus in Josephus,
Contra Apionem 1:22: 198-199, concerning the temple in Jeru-
salem: "a great edifice, containing an altar and a lampstand,
both made of gold, and weighing two talents; upon these is a
light which is never extinguished by night or day. There is
not a single statue or votive offering, no trace of a plant,
in the form of a sacred grove or the like." Note the equiva-
lence of plant and statue in this passage.
88
Peter Ackroyd deals with this phenomenon in his perspi-
cacious article, pp. 166-81.
 201

"ibid., pp. 167-68.

90
See above, pp. 18, 36-37.
91
Cf. Zech 2:9, where God's glory (presence) = fire, and
above, pp. 176-77. That this concept was already associated in
some way with the menoroth of Solomon's temple may be reflected
in the enigmatic passage of Solomon's dedicatory speech, 1 Kgs
8:12-13, where the building of the sanctuary seems to contrast
God's usual heavenly dwelling of darkness with an earthly
abode, presumably of light; cf. 2 Sam 22:29: "Yea, thou art my
lamp, 0 Lord,/ and my God lightens my darkness."
92
Frankfort, Problem of Similarity, p. 23.
93
A similar situation attains with respect to the ark, as
has been pointed out by Joseph Gutmann, "The History of the
Ark," ZAW 83 (1971), pp. 22-29; his point is well taken though
we do not necessarily agree with his disregard of some of the
early traditions of the ark.
94
S e e above, pp. 109-110.
95
S e e above, pp. 66-67, 73-75, 82-83.
96
S e e above, pp. 70-72.
97
An extreme and probably unbalanced opinion is that of
Aelred Cody, History of the Old Testament Priesthood (Analecta
Biblica, 35), Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1969, p. 8.
Cody would deny the existence of even traces of Egyptian influ-
ence upon the Hebrew tribes that dwelt in the land of Goshen.
Cf. Segal, pp. 141-45, who would restrict Egyptian influence to
the "handicrafts."
98
As J. Vergote, Joseph en Egypt (Orientalia et Biblica
Lovaniensia, III), Louvain: Publications Universitaires, 1959.
99
See Stephen L. Caiger, Bible and Spade, London: Oxford
University Press, 1936, pp. 82-83, and Scott, pp. 347-48.
100
s e e Kaufmann, pp. 228, 229-40; Cross, BAR I: 205-206,
212; Theophile James Meek, "Moses and the Levites," AJSLL LVI
(1939), pp. 113-20; and most recently, William F. Albright,
"From the Patriarchs to Moses: II. Moses out of Egypt," 36
(1973), pp. 55-58, 73. See also J. Milgrom, "The Alleged Wave-
Offering in Israel and in the Ancient Near East," IEJ 22 (1972),
pp. 33-38, for a specific instance of a cultic practice that
can be philologically and typologically identified with an
Egyptian rite.
101
A v i Hurvitz, "The Usage of Sit» and Tin in the Bible and
its Implication for the date of P," HTR 60 (1967), p. 20. Note
also the work of John Fogarty, communicated to me orally, which
has produced evidence for an Egyptian (Ramesside) model for the
tabernacle itself.
202

102
S e e Cross, BAR I: 212.
103
See William F. Albright, From the Patriarchs to Moses:
I. From Abraham to Joseph," BA 36 (1973), pp. 8, 11, for an
astute analysis of the pre-Israelite tribes, a complex pattern
of shifting alliances and movement, of "constant integration...
and disintegration."
104
See Clements, p. 4, and Cross, Canaamte Myth, p. 24.
105
Cyprus, however, must be considered with Israel as a
parallel cultural heir to the Canaanite traditions rather than
as a forebear of Israelite culture. Similarly, it is in this
context that it may be understood why the Assyrian sacred tree,
which is such a dominant pattern in the whole of Assyrian art,
bears so little formal resemblance to the tree motif embodied
in the menorah while at the same time representing a similar
combination of cult stand and tree form. The Assyrian tree can
be seen as a parallel development to that of the Israelite mo-
tif; both emerged in the LB culture of the ancient Near East,
both were influenced to some degree by Egyptian culture, but
the end results markedly were different, as befits the indivi-
dual development of separate cultural sub-groups.

literary references to the world tree or tree of

life or plant of life seem to be exclusively Mesopotamian (see
Widengren). The cosmic imagery of Ugaritic literature seems to
omit this motif. However, note the recent contribution of B.
Margulis, "A Weltbaum in Ugaritic Literature?" JBL 90 (1971),
pp. 481-82.
107
On this point compare the monumental work of Th. A.
Busink, Der Temple von Jerusalem. I. Band. Der Tempel Salomis
(Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Osten, Studii Francisci
Scholten Memoriae Dicata, 3), Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1970.
Busink brings his long specialization in architectural history
into an authoritative treatment of his subject. The outcome
of his search in Egypt, North Syria, Assyria, Canaan, and even
the ta:bernacle for the origins of the temple structure in Jeru-
salem is that there is no architectural Vorlage for the total
building and that it must be considered "not even a product of
Solomon but of Israel" (p. 617).
108
Problem of Similarity, p. 5.
109
As by Ackroyd, p. 166, with respect to the temple ves-
sels in general.
1
"''0The most comprehensive contribution to this debate is
William G. Dever 1 s recent monograph devoted entirely to this
problem, Archaeology and Biblical Studies: Retrospects and
Prospects, Evanston, Illinois: Western-Seabury Theological Sem-
inary, 1974; Dever presents a historical perspective on the
argument as well as taking a stance of his own. Other recent
discussions include Frank M. Cross, "W. F. Albright's View of
Biblical Archaeology and its Methodology," BA 36 (1973), pp. 2-
5; Wright, "What Archaeology Can and Cannot Do"; and D. L. Hol-
land, "'Biblical Archaeology 1 : An Onomastic Perplexity," BA 37
(1974), pp. 19-23.
FIGURES
 205

Fig. 1
206
 207

Fig. 7

Fig. 8

Fig. 9
208

1
Fig. 12

Fig. 10 M

Fig. 11 Fig. 14

» I Im

n
Fig. 13 Fig. 15
Fig. 22

Fig. 23
 211

Fig. 24

Fig. 25 Fig. 26
212

Fig. 27

Fig. 29

Pia. 30
214
 Fig. 37 Fig. 38

4<:>

A
o

Fig. 39 Fig. 40 Fig. 41

216
 217

Fig. 45

Fig. 46

Fig. 47

Fig. 48
218

Fig. 49

Fig. 53
 219

Fig. 54

•
•
•
•
•
O
Fig. 55 Fig. 56 Fig. 57
Fig. 58 Fig. 59

Fig. 61
Fig. 60

Fig. 62

Fig. 63
 221

M f

1M
Fig. 64

Wm m
Fig. 65

i
Fig. 66

Imm
Fig. 67
 SOURCE OF FIGURES

(In most cases, the illustrations are copies made by

this author of published photographs or drawings for
which the sources are listed below.)

1. Amiran, Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land, Photo 339.

2. Wooley, AJ 6 (1926), PI. LUIa.
3. Legrain, MJ 20 (1929), Pl. VIIIB.
4. Galling, Der Altar, PI. 3:8.
5. Galling, Der Altar, PI. 4:13.
6. Moortgat, Vorderasiatische Rollsiegel, Pl. 70:591.
7. Moortgat, Vorderasiatische Rollsiegel, Pl. 78:655.
8. A OB, Pl. CCXIII: 534.
9. AOB, Pl. CCXIII: 533.
10. Andrae, Farbige Keramik aus Assur, Pl. 29.
11. AOB, Pl. LXVII:148-149.
12. W. S. Smith, History of Egyptian Painting and Sculpture
in the Old Kingdom, PI. 31b.
13. W. S. Smith, History of Egyptian Painting and Sculpture
in the Old Kingdom, PI. 32b.
14. W. S. Smith, History of Egyptian Painting and Sculpture
in the Old Kingdom, PI. 32a.
15. Woldering, /.rts of Egypt, PI. 51.
16. AOB, Pl. CCXVIII: 544.
17. Steindorff, Die Kunst der Ägypter, P. 244.
18. AOB, Pl. CXV:271.
19. Wigand, BJ 122 (1912), Pl. 1:6.
20. Steindorff, Die Kunst der Ägypter, P. 241.
21a. Amiran, Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land, PI. 23:9.
21b. Amiran, Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land, PI. 59:1.
22. Bliss and Macalister, Excavations in Palestine, PI.
66:7s.
23a. Bliss and Macalister, Excavations in Palestine, PI. 46:6.
23b. Bliss and Macalister, Excavations in Palestine, PI. 46:7.
24. Macadam, Temples of Kawa II, PI. XV:c.
25. May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, Pl. XX; P6065.
26. May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, Fig. 6.
27. Albright, BASOR 85 (1942), Fig. 4.
28. May, Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult, PI. XIX:2802.

223
224

29. Amiran, Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land, Photo 334.

30. Macalister, The Excavation of Gezer III, PI. CLXII:9.
31. R. H. Smith, BA 27 (1964), Fig. 4.
32. Macalister, The Excavation of Gezer III, Pl. LXXXI: 6.
33. Albright, AASOR XXI-XXII (1941-43), P. 141.
34. PMK III, PI. 14al.
35. Dussaud, Les civilizations préhelléniques, Fig. 87.
36. Richter, Greek, Roman, and Etruscan Bronzes, #1270.
37. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Kypros, PI. LXXXII:3.
38. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Kypros, PI. LXXXII:2.
39. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Kypros, PI. LXXXII:4.
40. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Kypros, PI. LXXXII:5.
41. Ohnefalsch-Richter, Kypros, PI. LXXXII:1.
42. N. Perrot, Les representations de l'arbre sacré, Pl. 1:2.
43. N. Perrot, Les representations de l'arbre sacré, Pl. 1:3.
44. N. Perrot, Les representations de l'arbre sacré. Pl. 3:11.
45. SCWA, Fig. 94.
46. SCWA, Fig. 104.
47. Danthine, Le palmier-dattier et les arbres sacré, Fig.
693.
48. SCWA, Fig. 383.
49. SCWA, Fig. 271.
50. SCWA, Fig. 409.
51. SCWA, Fig. 290.
52. N. Perrot, Les representations de l'arbre sacré , Pl.
12:55.
53. Contenau, La glyptique syro-hittite, Pl. XXXVI:259.
54. SCWA, Fig. 691.
55. E. B. Smith, Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Expres-
sion, Pl. XXX: 2.
56. Clark, Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt, Fig. 35 (cf. Pl.
6) .
57. Clark, Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt, Fig. 35.
58. Petrie, Ancient Gaza IV, #224.
59. Petrie, Beth-Pelet I, Pl. X:105.
60. Tufnell, Lachish II, Pl. XXXIII:43.
61. Tufnell, Lachish II, Pl. XXXIIIA:53.
62. Tufnell, Lachish II, Pl. LX:1.
63. Starkey, PEF,QS 33 (1934), Pl. IX.
64. SCWA, Fig. 1176.
 225

65. diCesnola, Salaminia, Pl. XII:16.

66. diCesnola, Salaminia, PI. XIII:24
67. diCesnola, Salaminia, PI. XIII:2.
 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Texts

Biblia Hebraica, ed. Rud. Kittel. Stuttgart: Wiirttembergischen

Bibelanstalt, 1952. 7

Biblia Vulgata. Matriti: Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos,

1965.

The Book of Psalms. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society,

1972..

Josephus. Harvard : Loeb Classical Library.

Philo. Harvard: Loeb Classical Library.

Revised Standard Version: The Holy Bible. New York: Thomas

Nelson and Sons, 1952.

The Septuagint Version. London: Samuel Bagster and Sons

Limited, n.p.d.

The Talmud.-. Soncino Press, 1948.

All translations are taken from the above editions unless

otherwise noted.

Ackroyd, P. R. "The Temple V e s s e l s — a continuity theme,"

Studies in the Religion of Ancient Israel (Supplement to
VI, XXIII). Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1972.

Albright, William Foxwell. Archaeology and the Religion of

Israel. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1956^.

. The Excavation of Tell Beit Mirsim, Vol. Ill (AASOR

XXI-XXII), New Haven: American Schools of Oriental Re-
search, 1943.

. "From the Patriarchs to Moses: I. From Abraham to

Joseph," BA 36 (1973), 5-33.

. "From the Patriarchs to Moses: II. Moses out of

Egypt," BA 36 (1973), 48-76.

. "The Goddess of Life and Wisdom," AJSL 36 (1920),

258-94.

. "The Impact of Archaeology on Biblical R e s e a r c h —

1966," New Directions in Biblical Archaeology, ed. David
Noel Freedman and Jonas C. Greenfield. Garden City, New
York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1971.

227
228

Albright, W. F. "The Names Shaddai and Abram," JBL 54 (1935),

173-204.

. "Two Cressets from Marisa and the Pillars of Jachin

and Boaz," BASOR 85 (1942), 18-27.

. Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan. Garden City, New

York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1968.

Ameisenowa, Zofja. "The Tree of Life in Jewish Iconography,"

trans. W. F. Mainland, JWI II (1938), 326-45.

Amiran, Ruth. Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land. Jerusalem:

Massada Press, Ltd., 1969.

Andrae, Walter. Farbige Keramik aus Assur. Berlin: Scarabaeus

Verlag, 1923.

Andrews, E. A., ed. Harper's Latin Dictionary. New York:

American Book Company, 1907. 2

Badawy, Alexander. Architecture in Ancient Egypt and the Near

East. Cambridge: M.I.T. Press, 1966.

Badé, William Frederic. Excavations at Tell en-Nasbeh (Pales-

tine Institute Publication, 1). Berkeley: Professional
Press, 1928.

Baly, Denis. "The Geography of Monotheism," Translating and

Understanding the Old Testament (May festschrift), ed.
Harry Thomas Frank and William L. Reed. Nashville:
Abingdon Press, 1970.

Benson, Lyman. Plant Classification. Boston: D. C. Heath S

Company, 1957.

Bliss, Frederick Jones and R. A. Stewart Macalister. Excava-

tions in Palestine. London: Palestine Exploration Fund,
1902.

Bliss, Frederick Jones. A Mound of Many Cities. London: A. P.

Watt & Son, 1894.

Breasted, James Henry. Development of Religion and Thought in

Ancient Egypt (Harper Torchbook, TB 57). New York:
Harper and Row Publishers, 1959 (orig. ed. 1912).

Bright, John. "The Date of the Prose Sermons of Jeremiah,"

JBL 70 (1951), 15-35.

. Jeremiah (Anchor Bible, 21). Garden City, New York:

Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1965.

Brockelman, Carlos. Lexicon Syriacum. Göttingen: Max Nie-

meyer, 1928. 2

Brown, Francis, Driver, S. R., and Charles A. Briggs. Hebrea

and English Lexicon of the Old Testament. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1907.
 229

Buchanan, Briggs. Catalogue of Ancient Hear Eastern Seals in

the Ashmolean Museum, Vol. I: Cylinder Seals. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1966.

Budge, E. A. Wallis. Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection, 2

vols. London: Medici Society, Ltd., 1911.

Buhl, Marie-Louise. "The Goddesses of the Egyptian Tree Cult,"

JHES 6 (1947), 80-97.

Busink, Th. A. Der Tempel von Jerusalem, I. Band. Der Tempel

Salomos (Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Osten,
Studia Francisci Schölten Memoriae Dicata, 3). Leiden:
E. J. Brill, 1970.

Butterworth, E. A. S. The Tree at the Havel of the Universe.

Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1970.

Caiger, Stephen L. Bible and Spade. London: Oxford University

Press, 1936.

Campbell, Edward F. and David Noel Freedman, ed. Biblical Ar-

chaeologist Reader III. Garden City, New York: Doubleday
& Company, 1970.

Cassuto, U. A Commentary on the Book of Exodus, trans. Israel

Abrahams. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1967.

. From Adam to Noah, Part I. Commentary on the Book

of Genesis, trans. Israel Abrahams. Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 1961.

diCesnola, Alexander Palma. Salaminia. London: Whiting & Co.,

Ltd., 1884. 2

Cheyne, T. K. and J. S. Black, ed. Encyclopedia Biblica, 4

vols. New York: Macmillan Company, 1899.

Cheyne, T. K. "Note on the Hebrew Words "DISK and "1130," PSBA

21 (1899), 246.

Childs, Brevard. Myth and Reality in the Old Testament

(Studies in Biblical Theology, 27). London: SCM Press,
Ltd., 1960.

Clark, R. T. Rundle. Myth and Symbol in Ancient Egypt. Lon-

don: Thames and Hudson, 1959.

Clements, R. E. Cod and Temple. Oxford: Basil Blackwell,

1965.

Clifford, Richard J. "The Cosmic Mountain in the Ancient Near

East and Early Hebrew Literature." Harvard Seminar: He-
brew 200, October 19, 1967.

. The Cosmic Mountain in Canaan and the Old Testament

(Harvard Semitic Monographs, 4). Cambridge: Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 1972.
230

Clifford, Richard J. "The Tent of El and the Israelite Tent of

Meeting," CBQ 33 (1971), 221-25.

Cody, Aelred. History of the Old Testament Priesthood (Analec-

ta Biblica, 35). Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute,
1969.

Contenau, Georges. Everyday Life in Babylon and Assyria. Lon-

don: Edward Arnold, Ltd., 1954.

. La Glyptique Syro-Hittite. Paris: Paul Geuthner,

1922.

Cook, Roger. The Tree of Life. London: Thames & Hudson, 1974.

Cook, S. A. "Candlestick," EB I: 644-47.

. "Notes and Queries," PEF.QS 17 (1903), 185-86.

. "Lamp, Lantern," EB III: 2706-2708.

Corner, E.J.H. The Natural History of Palms. London: Weiden-

feld & Nicolson, 1966.

Cross, Frank M., Jr., and David Noel Freedman. "The Blessing
of Moses," JBL 67 (1948), 191-210.

Cross, Frank M., Jr. Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic. Cam-
bridge: Harvard University Press, 1973.

. "The Priestly Tabernacle," BAR I: 201-28.

. "The Song of the Sea and Canaanite Myth," God and

Christ: Existence and Province (Journal for Theology and
the Church, 5). New York: Harper and Row, 1968.

. "W. F. Albright's View of Biblical Archaeology and

Its Methodology," BA 36 (1973), 2-5.

. "Yahweh and the God of the Patriarchs," HTR 55

(1962), 225-59.

Crowfoot, J. W., Crowfoot, G. M., and Kathleen M. Kenyon. The

Objects from Samaria (Samaria-Sebaste, 3). London:
Palestine Exploration Fund, 1957.

Danthine, Helène. Le palmier-dattier et les arbres sacrés dans

l'iconographie de l'Asie occidentale ancienne (Biblio-
thèque archéologique et historique, xxv). Paris: Paul
Geuthner, 1957.

Dever, William G. Archaeology and Biblical Studies: Retro-

spects and Prospects. Evanston, Illinois: Seabury-
Western Theological Seminary, 1974.

Duncan, J. Garrow. Corpus of Dated Palestinian Pottery (BSAE,

49). London: Bernard Quaritch, 1930.
 231

Dussaud, R. Les Civilizations préhelléniques dans le basin de

la Her Egèe. Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1914.

Eliade, Mircea. Images and Symbols, trans. Philip Mairet. New

York: Sheed and Ward, 1961.

. Patterns in Comparative Religion, trans. Rosemary

Sheed. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1958.

. The Sacred and the Profane (Harper Torchbooks: The

Cloister Library, TB 81H), trans. Willard R. Trask. New
York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1961.

Ellenbogen, Maximilian. Foreign Words in the Old Testament.

London: Luzac & Company, Ltd., 1962.

Eltester, Walter. "Der Siebenarmige Leuchter und der Titus-

bogen," Judentum, Urchristentum, Kirche (Jeremias fest-
schrift) , ed. W. Eltester. Berlin: Verlag Alfred TÖpel-
mann, 1960.

Emerson, Fred W. Basic Botany. New York: Blakiston Company,

Inc., 1954 . 2

Engberg, Robert M. "Tree Designs on Pottery, with Suggestions

Concerning the Origin of Proto-Ionic Capitals," Material
Remains of the Megiddo Cult (OIP, XXVI). Chicago: Uni-
versity of Chicago Press, 1935.

Evans, Arthur. "Mycenean Tree and Pillar Cult in its Mediter-

ranean Relations," JHS XXI (1901), 99-204.

. Palace of Minos at Knossos, 5 vols. New York:

Biblo and Tannen, 1964 (reprint).

Farbridge, Maurice. Studies in Biblical and Semitic Symbolism.

New York: Ktav Publishing House, Inc., 1970 (orig. d. p.,
1923).

Farmer, William R. "The Geography of Ezekiel's River of Life,"

BAR I: 284-89.

Faulkner, Raymond 0. Concise Dictionary of Middle Egyptian.

Oxford: University Press, 1962.

Fishbane, Michael M. "The Sacred Center: the Symbolic Struc-

ture of the Bible," Texts and Responses (Glatzer fest-
schrift), ed. Michael A. Fishbane and Paul R. Flohr.
Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1974.

Focillon, Henri. The Life of Forms in Art, trans. C. B. Hogan

and G. Kubier. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1942.

Forbes, R. J. "Extracting, Smelting, and Alloying," HT I:

572-99.

. Metallurgy in Antiquity. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1950.

232

Forbes, R. J. Studies in Ancient Technology , 9 vols. Leiden:

E. J. Brill, 1955-64.

Frankfort, Henri. Ancient Egyptian Religion. New York:

Columbia University Press, 1948.

The Art and Architecture of the Ancient Orient.

London: Penguin Books, 1956.

. Cylinder Seals. London: Macmillan and Co., 1939.

The Problem of Similarity in Ancient Near Eastern

Religion. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1951.

Freedman, David Noel, and Jonas C. Greenfield, eds. Hew Direc-

tions in Biblical Archaeology. Garden City, New York:
Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1971.

Freedman, David Noel. "Early Israelite History in Light of

Early Israelite Poetry," Unity and Diversity: Essays in
the History, Literature and Religion of the Ancient Near
East, ed. H. Goedicke and J.J.M. Roberts. Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins Press, 1975.

. "Divine Names and Titles in Early Hebrew Poetry,"

Magnalia Dei (Essays in honor of G. Ernest Wright), ed.
F. M. Cross. New York: Doubleday & Company, 1976.

"Early Israelite Poetry and Historical Reconstruc-

tion," The Era of Israelite Origins: Problems in the Ar-
chaeology and History of Israel at the Beginning of the
Early Iron Age (Seventy-fifth Anniversary Symposium of
the American Schools of Oriental Research), ed. F. M.
Cross. Cambridge: American Schools of Oriental Research,
1976.

Gadd, C. J. The Stones of Assyria. London: Chatto and Windus,

1936.

Galling, Kurt. Der Altar in den Kulturen des Alten Orients.

Berlin: Karl Curtius Verlag, 1925.

Biblisches Reallexiaon (Handbuch zum Alten Testa-

ment, I). Tübingen: Verlag von J. C. B. Mohr, 1937.

Goff, Beatrice L. "The 'Significance' of Symbols: A Hypothesis

Tested with Relation to Egyptian Symbols," Religions in
Antiquity (Supplement to Numen, XIV), ed. Jacob Neusner.
Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968.

Symbols of Prehistoric Mesopotamia. New Haven:

Yale University Press, 1963.

Goldman, Bernard. The Sacred Portal. Detroit: Wayne State

University Press, 1966.

Goodenough, Erwin R. Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period,

13 vols. New York: Bollingen Foundation, Inc., 1953-68.
 233

Gordon, Cyrus H. Ugaritio Textbook. Rome: Pontificium Insti-

tutum Biblicum, 1965.

. Ugaritio Manual (Analecta Orientalia, 35). Rome:

Pontificium Institutum Biblicum, 1955.

Graham, James Walter. The Palaces of Crete. Princeton:

Princeton University Press, 1962.

Grant, Elihu, and G. Ernest Wright. Ain Shems Excavations IV

(Pottery). Haverford: Biblical and Kindred Studies,
1938.

Grant, Frederick C. "Psychological Study of the Bible," Reli-

gions in Antiquity (Supplement to Numen, XIV), ed. Jacob
Neusner. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968.

Gray, John. The Canaanites (Ancient Peoples and Places, 38).

London: Thames and Hudson, 1964.

Greenberg, Moshe. "A New Approach to the History of the Is-

raelite Priesthood," JAOS 70 (1950), 41-47.

Grelot, P. "Parvaim des chroniques de l'Apochryphe de la

Genese," VT XI (1961), 30-38.

Gressman, Hugo. Altorientalische Bilder zum Alten Testament.

Berlin: Verlag Walter de Gruyter & Co., 1927.

Gutmann, Joseph. "The History of the Ark," ZAU 83 (1971),

22-29.

. "A Note on the Temple Menorah," ZNW 60 (1969),

289-91.

. "The 'Second Commandment' and the Image in Judaism,"

No Graven Images, ed. Joseph Gutmann. New York: Ktav
Publishing House, Inc., 1971.

Guy, P.L.O., and Robert M. Engberg. Megiddo Tombs (OIP,

XXXIII). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1938.

Hachlili, Rahel and Rivka Merhav, Menorath Hamishkan (Hebrew;

unpublished).

Haran, Menaljem. "The Ark and the Cherubim: Their Symbolic

Significance in Biblical Ritual," IEJ 9 (1955), 30-38,
89-94.

. "The Complex of Ritual Acts inside the Tabernacle,"

SH VIII: 272-302.

. "The Disappearance of the Ark," IEJ 13 (1963),

46-58.

. "The Divine Presence in the Israelite Cult and the

Cultic Institutions," Biblioa 50 (1969), 251-67.

. "Menorah," EJ XI: 1355-63.

234

Haran, Menaljem. "The ' 'OHEL MO'ED' in the Pentateuchal

Sources," JSS V (1960), 50-65.

. "The Priestly Image of the Tabernacle," HUCA 36

(1965), 191-226.

. "Shiloh and Jerusalem: the Origin of the Priestly

Tradition in the Pentateuch," JBL 81 (1962), 14-24.

Hareuveni, Nogah. Ecology in the Bible. Kiryat Ono, Israel:

Neot Kedumim, Ltd., 1974.

Harrelson, Walter. "The Significance of Cosmology in the An-

cient Near East," Translating and Understanding the Old
Testament, (May festschrift), ed. Harry Thomas Frank and
William L. Reed. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1970.

Harris, J. R. Lexicographical Studies in Ancient Egyptian

Metals (Deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin,
54). Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1961.

Harrison, S. H. "Fire-making, Fuel, and Lighting," ET I: 216-237.

Hastings, J., ed. Dictionary of the Bible, 4 vols. New York:

Charles Scribner's Sons, 1898.

Hoffman, Georg. "Versuche zu Amos," ZAU 3 (1883), 87-126.

Hoffner, Harry A. Review of Einar von Schuler, Die Kaskaer:

Ein Beitrag zur Ethnographie des alten Kleinasien, JAOS
87 (1967), 179-85.

Holladay, William L. "On Every High Hill and under Every Green
Tree," VT 11 (1961), 170-76.

Holland, D. L. "'Biblical Archaeology': An Onomastic Perplex-

ity, " BA 37 (1974), 19-23.

Hurvitz, Avi. "The Usage of ifftff and VI3 in the Bible and Its
Implications for the Date of P," HTR 60 (1967), 117-21.

Jacobsen, Thorkild. Seminar on Ancient Near Eastern Religions,

1: "The Data, Continuity and Change," Seminar on Reli-
gions in Antiquity, ed. Jacob Neusner. Hanover, New
Hampshire: Dartmouth College Cooperative Studies Center,
1966 .

James, E. O. The Tree of Life (Studies in the History of

Religions, XI). Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1966.

"The Tree of Life and the Water of Life," Religion

und Religionen (Mensching festschrift). Bonn: Ludwig
Rohrscheid Verlag, 1967.

Jastrow, Marcus. Dictionary, 2 vols. New York: Pardes Pub-

lishing House, Inc., 1950.

Jean, Charles-F. "La grande triade divine AN, ^Enlil, ^Enki,"

RHR 110 (1934), 113-39.
 235

Jean, Charles-F., and Jacob Hoftijzer. Dictionnaire des In-

scriptions Sémitique de l'Ouest. Leiden: E. J. Brill,
1965.

Johnson, F. Ernest, ed. Religious Symbolism. New York: Insti-

tute for Religious and Social Studies, Jewish Theological
Seminary of America, 1955.

Kaufmann, Y. The Religion of Israel, trans, and abr. Moshe

Greenberg. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1960.

Knudtzon, J. A. Die El-Amarna-Tafeln, 2 vols. Leipzig: J. C.

Hinrichs 1 sehe Buchhandlung, 1915.

Koehler, Ludwig. "Hebräische Etymologien," JBL 59 (1940), 35-

40.

, and Walter Baumgartner, ed. Lexicon in Veteris

Testamenti Libros. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1953.

Kramer, Samuel Noah. The Sumerians. Chicago: University of

Chicago Press, 1963.

Kraus, Hans-Joachim. Worship in Israel, trans. Geoffrey Bus-

well. Richmond: John Knox Press, 1965.

Kubler, George. The Shape of Time: Remarks on the History of

Things. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962.

Lambdin, Th. 0. "Egyptian Loan-words in the Old Testament,"

JAOS 73 (1953), 144-55.

Lamon, Robert Scott, and Geoffrey M. Shipton. Megiddo I (OIP,

XLII). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1939.

Lane, Edward William. Arabia-English Lexicon, 8 parts. Lon-

don: Williams and Norgate, 1863-1893.

Langer, Susanne. Philosophy in a New Key. Cambridge: Harvard

University Press, 1957.

Legrain, L. "Boudoir of Queen Shubab," MJ 20 (1929), 211-45.

. "Gem Cutters in Ancient Ur," MJ 20 (1929), 258-306.

Levine, Baruch A. "The Descriptive Tabernacle Texts of the

Pentateuch," JAOS 85 (1965), 307-18.

. In the Presence of the Lord. Leiden: E. J. Brill,

1974.

. "On the Presence of God in Biblical Religion," Reli-

gions in Antiquity (Supplement to Numen, XIV), ed. Jacob
Neusner. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968.

Liddell, Henry George, and Robert Scott. Greek-English Lexi-

con. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.®
236

Loud, Gordon. Megiddo II. Plates (OIP, LXII). Chicago: Uni-

versity of Chicago Press, 1948.

Low, Immanuel. Die Flora der Juden, 4 vols. Wien: R. Löwit

Verlag, 1924-34.

Lucas, A. Ancient Egyptian Materials and Industries, rev. J.

R. Harris. London: Edward Arnold, Ltd., 1962. 4

Macadam, M. F. Laming. Temples of Kawa II. History and Ar-

chaeology of the Site. London: Oxford University Press,
1955.

MacAlister, R. A. Stewart. The Excavation of Gezer, 3 vols.

London: John Murray for Palestine Exploration Fund, 1912.

Maclver, R. M. "Signs and Symbols," Journal of Religious

Thought 10 (1953), 101-04.

Maisler, B. "The Excavations at Tell Qasîle: Preliminary Re-

p o r t — I l l , " IES 1 (1950-51), pp. 194-218.

Marcus, Ralph. "The Tree of Life in Proverbs," JBL 62 (1943),

117-20.

Margulis, B. "A Weltbaum in Ugaritic Literature?" JBL 90

(1971), 481-82.

Matton, Raymond. La Crète antique. Athenes: Institut Français

d'Athènes, 1955.

May, Herbert Gordon. Material Remains of the Megiddo Cult

(OIP, XXVI). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1935.

. "Prolegomenon" to Maurice Farbridge, Studies in

Biblical and Semitic Symbolism. New York: Ktav Publish-
ing House, Inc., 1970.

. "The Sacred Tree on Palestinian Painted Pottery,"

J AOS 59 (1939), 251-59.

. "Some Cosmic Connotations of MAYIM RABBIM, 'Many

Waters,'" JBL 74 (1955), 9-21.

. "The Two Pillars before the Temple of Solomon,"

BASOR 88 (1942), 19-27.

May, Rollo. "Introduction: The Significance of Symbols," Sym-

bolism in Religion and Literature, ed. Rollo May. New
York: George Braziller, 1960.

May, Rollo, ed. Symbolism in Religion and Literature. New

York: George Braziller, 1960.

Meek, Theophile James. "Moses and the Levites," AJSLL 56

(1939), 113-20.
 237

Mercer, Samuel A. B. The Religion of Ancient Egypt. London:

Luzac & Co., 1948.

Meshorer, Ya'akov. Jewish Coins of the Second Temple Period,

trans. I. H. Levine. Tel Aviv: Am Hassefer, 1962.

Michel, Ernst. "Die Assur-Texte Salmanassars III," Die Welt

des Orient II (1955), 137-57.

Milgrom, Jacob. "The Alleged Wave-Offering in Israel and in

the Ancient Near East," IEJ 22 (1972), 33-38.

. Studies in Levitical Terminology I: The Encroacher

and the Levite. The Term 'Aboda (University of Californ-
ia Publications, Near Eastern Studies, 14). Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1970.

Möhlenbrink, Kurt. "Der Leuchter im fünften Nachtgesicht des

Propheten Sacharja," ZDP 52 (1929), 257-86.

Moldenke, Harold N. and Alma L. Plants of the Bible. Waltham:

Chronica Botanica, 1952.

Mond, Robert, and Oliver Myers. The Bucheum, 3 vols. London:

Egypt Exploration Society, 1934.

Montgomery, James A. The Book of Daniel (ICC). Edinburgh:

T. & T. Clark, 1927.

Moortgat, Anton. Vorderasiatische Rollsiegel. Berlin: Verlag

Gebr Mann, 1940.

Moran, William L. "A New Fragment of DIN.TIR.KI = BABILU and

EIWMA ELlS vi: 61-66," Analecta Biblica 12 (1959), 257-65.

Moscati, Sabatino. Comparative Grammar of the Semitic Lan-

guages (Porta Linguarum Orientalium, Neue Serie, VI).
Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1964.

Murray, Margaret A. The Osirion at Abydos (Egyptian Research

Account, IX). London: Bernard Quaritch, 1904.

Muss-Arnoldt, W. Concise Dictionary of the Assyrian Language.

Berlin: Reuther and Reichard, 1905.

Myres, John L. "Excavations in Cyprus in 1894: IV. — L a r n a k a :

Graeco-Phoenician and Hellenistic Tombs," JHS 17 (1897),
152-64.

Nelson, Harold A. "The Egyptian Temple," BAR I: 147-58.

Neuburger, Albert. The Technical Arts of the Ancients, trans.

Henry L. Blose. London: Methuen & Co., Ltd., 1930.

Neusner, Jacob. "Notes on Goodenough's Jewish Symbols," Con-

servative Judaism 17 (1963), 77-92.
238

Neusner, Jacob, ed. Religions in Antiquity (Supplement to

Numen, XIV). Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968.

. The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism (Studies in

Judaism in Late Antiquity, I). Leiden: E. J. Brill,
1973.

North, Robert. "Zechariah's Seven-Spout Lampstand," Biblioa 51

(1970), 183-206.

. "Ophir/Parvaim and Petra/Joktheel, " Papers, Fourth

World Jewish Congress I. Jerusalem: World Union of
Jewish Studies, 1967.

Nougayrol, Jean. Cylindres sceaux et empreintes de cylindres

trouvé en Palestine (Bibliothèque archéologique et his-
torique, XXXIII). Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1939.

Ohnefalsch-Richter, Max. Kypros, 2 vols. London: Asher & Co.,

1893.

Oppenheim, A. Leo. Ancient Mesopotamia. Chicago: University

of Chicago Press, 1964.

, ed. Chicago Assyrian Dictionary. Chicago: Oriental

Institute, 1956-

. "The Mesopotamian Temple," BAP. I: 158-69.

Panofsky, Erwin. Meaning in the Visual Arts. Garden City,

New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1955.

. Studies in Iconology (Harper Torchbook) . New York:

Harper & Row Publishers, 1962.2

Parker, Barbara. "Cylinder Seals: Pl. XXXIII: Notes," Lachish

II. The Fosse Temple, by Olga Tufnell, et al. London:
Oxford University Press, 1940.

Patai, Raphael. The Arab Mind. New York: Charles Scribner's

Sons, 1973.

Payne Smith, J. Syriac Dictionary. Oxford: Clarendon Press,

1957 (orig. d. p., 1903) .

Perrot, Georges, and Charles Chipiez. Histoire de l'art dans

l'antiquité. Vol. III: Phénicie-Chypre. Paris: Libraire
Hachette et Cie, 1885.

. History of Art in Ancient Egypt, 2 vols., trans.

Walter Armstrong. London: Chapman & Hall, Ltd., 1883.

Perrot, Nell. "Les representations de l'arbre sacré sur les

monuments de Mésopotamie et de l'Élam," Babyloniaca 17
(1937), 5-144.

Petrie, Flinders. Ancient Gaza IV (BSAE, 56). London: Bernard

 239

Petrie, Flinders. Beth-Pelet I (BSAE, 48). London: Bernard

Quaritch, 1930.

. Buttons and Design Saarabs (BSAE, 38). London:

Bernard Quaritch, 1925.

. Decorative Patterns of the Anaient World (BSAE) .

London: Bernard Quaritch, 1930.

Plenderleith, H. J. "Metals and Metal Technique," Ur Excava-

tions II. The Royal Cemetery (Text). London and Phila-
delphia: British Museum and University Museum, 1934.

Pope, Marvin. Job (Anchor Bible, 15). Garden City, New York:
Doubleday S Company, Inc., 1965.

Porada, Edith. Corpus of Ancient Hear Eastern Seals in North

American Collections. I. Collection of the Pierpont
Morgan Library (Bollingen Series, XIV). Washington:
Pantheon Books, 1948.

Post, G. E. "Lily," DB III: 122-23.

Pritchard, James B. The Ancient Near East in Pictures.

Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1954.

, ed. Anaient Near Eastern Texts. Princeton: Prince-

ton University Press, 1955.

Pythian-Adams, W. J. "On the Date of the 'Blessing of Moses, 1 "

JPOS 3 (1923), 158-66.

von Rad, Gerhard. Genesis (Old Testament Library), trans.

John H. Marks. Philadelphia: The Westminster Press,
1961.

Raubitschek, Isabelle. "Phoenician Bronze Lamp Stands or

Thymiateria" (abstract), AJA 78 (1974), 175.

Richter, Gisela M. A. Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Bronzes. New

York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1915.

Rosenthal, Franz. /I Grammar of Biblical Aramaic (Porta Lin-

guarum Orientalium, V). Wiesbaden: Otto Harrasowitz,
1963.

Roth, Cecil, ed. Encyclopedia Judaica. Jerusalem: Macmillan

Company, 1971.

Rowe, Alan. A Catalogue of Egyptian Saarabs (in the Palestine

Archaeological Museum). Cairo: Imprimerie de l'Institut
Français, 1936.

. "The Palestine Expedition," MJ 20 (1929), 37-87.

• "The Two Royal Stelae of Beth-Shan," MJ 20 (1929),

88-98.
240

Sarna, Nahum. Understanding Genesis. New York: McGraw-Hill

Book Company, 1966.

. "Psalm XIX and the Near Eastern Sun-God Literature,"

Papers, Fourth World Jewish Congress I. Jerusalem: World
Union of Jewish Studies, 1967.
Sasson, Jack M. "Bovine Symbolism in the Exodus Narrative,"
VT 18 (1968), 380-87.

Schaeffer, Claude F. A. Ugaritiaa I (Bibliothèque archéolo-

gique et historique, XXXI). Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1939.

. Ugaritiaa II (Bibliothèque archéologique et histor-

ique, XLVII). Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1949.

Schräder, Eberhard. The Cuneiform Inscriptions and the Old

Testament, trans. Owen C. Whitehouse, 2 vols. London:
Williams & Norgate, 1885.

Schumacher, G. Tell el Mutesellim I. Leipzig: Rudolf Haupt,

1908.

Scott, R. B. Y. "Weights and Measures in the Bible," BAR III:

345-58.

Segal, M. H. The Pentateuch. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1967.

Segal, Moshe Zvi. Sepher Ben Sira Uashalem. Jerusalem:

Mosad Bialik, 1959.

Singer, Charles, et al., ed. History of Technology, 5 vols.

Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954.

Smith, E. Baldwin. Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Expres-

sion. New York: D. Appleton-Century Company, 1938.

Smith, Morton. "The Image of God," BJRL 40 (1957-58), 473-512.

Smith, Robert Houston. "The Household Lamps of Palestine in

Old Testament Times," BA 27 (1964), 1-31.

Smith, Sydney. "Notes on the Assyrian Tree," BSOS 4 (1926),

69-76.

Smith, W. Robertson. The Religion of the Semites. New York:

Meridian Books, 1956 (orig. d. p., 1889).

Smith, William Stevenson. Art and Architecture of Ancient

Egypt. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1958.

. A History of Egyptian Sculpture and Painting in the

Old Kingdom. London: Oxford University Press, 1946.

von Soden, Wolfram, ed. Akkadisches Handwörterbuch. Wies-

baden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1965-
 241

Sperber, Daniel. "The History of the Menorah," JJS 16 (1965),

135-59.

Starkey, J. L. "Excavations at Tell el Duweir, 1933-1934,"

PEF.QS 33 (1934), 164-78.

Steindorff, Georg. Die Kunst der Ägypter. Leipzig: Insel-

Verlag, 1928.

Strauss, Heinrich. "History and Form of the Seven-Branched

Candlestick of the Hasmonean Kings," JWCI 22 (1959),
6-16.

. "Menorah on the Arch of Titus," EJ 11: 1363-1366.

Thureau-Dangin, F. Rituels Accadiens. Paris: Editions Ernest

Leroux, 1921.

Tillich, Paul J. "Theology and Symbolism," Religious Symbol-

ism, ed. F. Ernest Johnson. New York: Institute for
Religious and Social Studies of the Jewish Theological
Seminary of America, 1955.

Tufnell, Olga, et at. Lachish II. The Fosse Temple. London:

Oxford University Press, 1940.

Ungnad, A. "Gold," Orientalia 4 (1935), 296-99.

Van Buren, E. Douglas. "The Seven Dots in Mesopotamian Art and

Their Meaning," AfO 13 (1939-41), 277-89.

deVaux, Roland. Ancient Israel, trans. John McHugh. New York:

McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1961.

. "On Right and Wrong Uses of Archaeology," Near

Eastern Archaeology in the Twentieth Century (Glueck
festschrift), ed. James A. Sanders. Garden City, New
York: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1970.

Vergote, J. Joseph en Egypt (Orientalia et Biblica Louvanien-

sia, III). Louvain: Publications Universitaires, 1959.

Vincent, L. H. "Les Fouilles Juives d'el Hammam, a Tiberiade,"

RB 31 (1922), 115-22.

. "La peinture ceramique Palestinienne," Syria 5

(1924), 81-107.

Wampler, Joseph Carson. Tell en-liasbeh II. The Pottery.

Berkeley: Palestine Institute of the Pacific School of
Religion, 1947.

Ward, William Hayes. Seal Cylinders of Western Asia. Washing-

ton, D.C.: Carnegie Institute of Washington, 1910.

Weinfeld, Moshe. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School.

Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972.
242

Widengren, Geo. The King and the Tree of Life in Ancient Near
Eastern Religion (Uppsala Universitets Arsskrift, King
and Saviour, IV). Uppsala: A.-B. Lundequistska Bokhan-
deln, 1951.

Wigand, Karl. "Thymiateria," BJ 122 (1912), 1-97.

Winton Thomas, D. "Some Observations on the Hebrew Word '¡Jyi,"

Hebräische Wortforschung (Baumgartner festschrift, Sup-
plement to VT, XVI). Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1967.

Wirgin, Wolf. History of Coins and Symbols in Ancient Israel.

New York: Exposition Press, 1958.

. "The Menorah as Symbol of After-Life," IEJ 4 (1964),

102-04.

. "The Menorah as Symbol of Judaism," IEJ 12 (1962),

140-42.

Wisse, Stephan. Das Religiose Symbol. Essen: Ludgerus-Verlag

Hubert Wingen K G, 1963.

Woldering, Irmgard. The Arts of Egypt. London: Thames & Hud-

son, 1967.

Wooley, C. Leonard. "The Excavations at Ur, 1924-25," AJ 5

(1925), 347-400.

. "The Excavations at Ur, 1925-26," AJ 6 (1926), 365-

Wright, G. Ernest and David Noel Freedman, ed. The Biblical

Archaeologist Reader I. Garden City, New York: Double-
day s Company, Inc., 1961.

Wright, G. Ernest, ed. The Bible and the Ancient Near East.
(Albright festschrift). London: Routledge & Kegan Paul,
1961.

. "Biblical Archaeology Today," New Directions in

Biblical Archaeology, ed. David Noel Freedman and Jonas
C. Greenfield. Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Com-
pany, Inc., 1971.

. "Lamps, Politics, and the Jewish Religion," BA 2

(1939), 22-24.

. Shechem. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1964.

"Solomon's Temple Resurrected," BA 4 (1941), 17-31.

"The Temple in Syria-Palestine," BAR I: 169-84.

"What Archaeology Can and Cannot Do," BA 34 (1971),

 243

Würzburger, Uri. "Metals and Mining. In the Bible," EJ 11:

1428-34.

Yadin, Yigael. "The Third Season of Excavation at Hazor," BA

21 (1958), 30-40.

Yarden, L. The Tree of Light. Ithaca, New York: Cornell Uni-

versity Press, 1971.
F O R MORE GORGIAS PRESS R E P R I N T S ,
SEE WWW.GORGIASPRESS.COM.