Джеймс Миченер - The Source

“You haven’t seen them.”

“Zibeon has. So has the Hittite. They saw desert people. Who do not respect walls and towns and proper houses.”

“They respect fields and cattle,” Uriel countered. “And high places and gods. We need them,”

That afternoon he admitted that just possibly Rahab was right, and that the strangers might give trouble, but he had already rented them the unused fields and he was not unhappy in his decision.

Zadok was also satisfied. As day ended he assembled his people before the small red tent which his sons had erected beneath an oak tree, and there he reported to his dusty hundreds, “El-Shaddai has brought us to this spot, as he promised. These fields and these hills shall be our habitation, but it is not we who have won this dwelling place. It is El-Shaddai who has done this thing for us, and it is to him that we now give thanks.”

He indicated to his sons that they should bring forth the white ram, the perfect beast of the flocks, and the struggling animal was dragged before the tabernacle, where with a sharp stone knife the old man offered sacrifice to the glory of the one god. The horns, half-twisted and strong, would form the trumpets that would henceforth summon the Hebrew to prayer on this spot. The wool of the ram would be woven into a black and white prayer shawl that would finally go into the tabernacle in memory of this day, and from the blood which now dripped from the altar would spring the bond that would unite this group of Hebrews permanently to the god who had chosen them to inhabit this fair land. It was a moment of intense dedication, which Zadok heightened by crying, “El-Shaddai, you of the mountains, you of the storm, we place ourselves in your hands. Advise and direct us in the paths we should follow.” And he fell before the tabernacle, waiting for instructions. But none came.

Trouble started in a quarter that neither Uriel nor Zadok could have foreseen. For many generations the wiser men of Zadok’s clan had worshiped El-Shaddai with the understanding that whereas Canaanites and Egyptians could see their gods directly, El-Shaddai was invisible and inhabited no specific place. Unequivocally the Hebrew patriarchs had preached this concept and the sager men of the clans accepted it, but to the average Hebrew who was not a philosopher the theory of a god who lived nowhere, who did not even exist in corporeal form, was not easy to comprehend. Such people were willing to agree with Zadok that their god did not live on this mountain—the one directly ahead—but they suspected that he did live on some mountain nearby, and when they said this they pictured an elderly man with a white beard who lived in a proper tent and whom they might one day see and touch. If questioned, they would have said that they expected El-Shaddai to look much like their father Zadok, but with a longer beard, a stronger voice and more penetrating eyes.

Now, as these simpler-minded Hebrews settled down outside the walls of Makor, they began to see Canaanite processions leave the main gate and climb the mountain to the north, seeking the high place where Baal lived, and they witnessed the joy which men experienced when visiting their god, and the Hebrews began in subtle ways and easy steps to evolve the idea that Baal, who obviously lived in a mountain, and El-Shaddai, who was reported to do so, must have much in common. Furtively at first, and then openly, they began to climb the footpath to the place of Baal, where they found a monolith rising from the highest point of rock. Here was a tangible thing they could comprehend, and after much searching along the face of the mountain, a group of Hebrew men found a straight rock of size equal to the one accorded Baal, and with much effort they dragged it one starless night to the mountaintop, where they installed it not far from the home of Baal.

Before either Uriel or Zadok heard of this unauthorized development—and it would be of equal concern to each—a more immediate problem erupted. Three Hebrew maidens were walking through Makor bearing water jars when they heard a commotion and were drawn off the main street to a small temple which rose above the spot where the four monoliths had once stood. It was sacred to Astarte, before whose gates danced a nude young man in a manner which the Hebrew girls had not seen before, and at the end of his erotic performance a woman from the audience ran up and dropping her clothes embraced him passionately, whereupon he led her into the small temple while the crowd applauded. The girls did not report these things to Zadok, but around the Hebrew camp-fires there was much whispered discussion, so on the next day Zadok’s sons, Epher and Ibsha, strolled into town to see a similar performance—except that this time the dancer was a woman who finally accepted a male partner from the lascivious crowd. Epher asked, “What’s happening?” and a Canaanite explained, “Sacred worship to insure the growth of our seeds.”

“Can anyone …”

“If you’re a farmer.” The Canaanite led the two Hebrews to the temple door, banged on it and said to the pleasing young girl who opened it, “These two are farmers. They wish to pray,” and she led Epher to an experience which would help determine the events of that summer.

That night there was new speculation in the Hebrew camp and on succeeding days several men left their work and slipped into town, but the scandal that finally reached Zadok’s attention was the behavior of a young married woman named Jael, who went out of turn with her water jar, then slipped aside to the little temple, where she waited for the nude young man to perform his dance, at the end of which she hurried forward, leaving her water jar beside the door.

When Zadok heard of her offense he struck his forehead. He caused the ram’s horn to be sounded, and when its mournful echoes reverberated along the valleys the Hebrews knew that evil was abroad and they gathered in contrition, many men and one woman realizing why El-Shaddai was angry. They were prepared to offer retribution, but when Zadok stormed that the woman Jael had forfeited all respect and must be stoned to death as ancient law required, three men of equal guilt spirited her away and found refuge for her inside the walls.

That night Zadok heard of the rock dedicated to El-Shaddai, and in the morning he took his staff and climbed up the hilly paths to the summit, where for the first time he saw the monolith to Baal, before which he bowed in proper respect. But alongside the ancient stone he saw one recently implanted—a rock to the unknown god of the Hebrews—and it was decorated with flowers and the head of a slaughtered lamb. “Abomination!” he cried, and with his staff he knocked away the lamb’s head. Then he leaned against the stone, seeking to unbalance it and roll it down the mountainside, but he could accomplish nothing and the stone mocked him.

Confused and worried, the old man strode down the hill and for the first time since the day of agreement he entered Makor, where he stalked through the town to see the temple for himself. There was then no dancing but he could visualize the abominable rites, and with disgust departed to seek out Governor Uriel, whom he hammered with direct questions: “Have you given refuge to the whore Jael?”

“A woman joined us.”

“In your temple are there male and female whores?”

“From time out of mind we have worshiped Astarte.”

“Did you give approval for the erection of a rock to El-Shaddai? In the high place of your own god?”

At this Uriel frowned. No one had told him of the monolith, and if one had been erected it could cause trouble. Of the visits by Hebrew men and women to the sacred prostitutes he had been aware and had approved, for this kind of intimacy represented a wholesome interchange; it was in the interests of Makor to see that the Hebrew farmers produced maximum crops, and through the ages it had been proved that only worship of Astarte could insure this. He had also known of Jael’s arrival and had personally found her a home with a Canaanite widower, for intermarriage between the two groups would also speed assimilation; he expected to see quite a few additional Hebrews taking up residence inside the walls, and he would approve the day when Canaanites began to move outside to marry with the Hebrews. From what he could see of their women they were attractive and he imagined that his townsmen must think so, too. This interchange of women was the traditional way in which newcomers fitted into a town, and he hoped the process would accelerate.