Thursday, December 25, 2014

Chapter One A Bird’s Eye View of a Crucifixion (Draft for "The Mark of Simon Magus")

In 1855, A Welsh minister by the name of John Mills visited the city of Nabulus in Palestine.  The city’s name evolved from its ancient name of Flavia Neapolis, built by Romans as a retired soldiers’ colony in the late 1st century CE.  Mills believed that Nabulus was built on the ruins of the Biblical city of Shechem, because the city is cradled in the valley between the shoulder blades of Samaria, between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal.  “Shechem” translates from Hebrew as shoulder, or more specifically, the portion of the back between the shoulders, close to the neck.  The ancient Palestinians, or Canaanites as the Bible calls them, envisioned the mountain range of Ephraim as a giant lying on its stomach, with its shoulders rising as the two highest peaks south of Lebanon.  Only the snow-capped mega-giants of Mount Hermon and Mount Lebanon are higher, but they are far to the north of Samaria.  For central Palestine, the twin peaks of Gerizim and Ebal dominated the landscape.  The mountains that sheltered Shechem are hundreds of feet higher than the peaks of Jerusalem to the south. They also tower more than 1000 feet higher than Mount Gilboa and Mount Tabor to the northeast, in the Lower Galilee, as well as dwarfing Mt Carmel to the northwest on the coast.

Not only were the mountains Mills visited impressive, the valley of Nabulus was a strategic location.  The valley provided one of the best passages from the Jordan rift valley in the east out to the western Plain of Sharon and the Jezreel, leading to the ports on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea.  The valley was the backbone of an important trade route, with Shechem guarding the east entrance on the neck of the giant, and Shomron (Samaria) as the watchtower overlooking the base of the spine on the west end of the valley.  That trade route was the reason for the existence of the Iron Age kingdom of Israel.  The Israelite Omride kings built their capital city on the west end of the valley and called it Shomron, which means “the watchtower” in Hebrew.  Shomron (Samaria) became a wealthy city as it watched over the trade route. 

On the east end of the valley, Shechem was in a natural fortress between the two great mountains, and for Canaanites, mountain tops were the homes of their gods, the Elohim.  Shechem naturally became the religious center of the Israelite kingdom.  Every rock and every spring in the region became associated with their gods. The whole area of Palestine looked to Shechem as the home of their gods and to Shomron as the home of their king.

The Israelite kings dominated Palestine because they also managed to control the other two good trade routes from the east to the sea.  To the south, there were a few good paths leading from Jericho, close to where the Jordan River ends in the Dead Sea, out to the port of Jaffa on the coast.  These paths run through and around the heights of Jerusalem, so it was a natural place for a fortress to guard the trade routes.  To the north, lay a route from Shomron through the verdant Jezreel Valley, flanked by Mount Gilboa and Mount Tabor on the east, and the Carmel Range on the west.  At Nazareth, the route met up with other paths leading from the north end of the Jordan River and the Sea of Galilee.  From the crossroads by Nazareth, travelers from the east headed west to the coastal bay, by the port of Haifa, or north, to the great cities of Tyre and Sidon.

The importance of the region of Nazareth was due to its position on the trade route.  It was a crossroads, where the eastern travelers from the King’s Highway (the southern route from Egypt to Mesopotamia) crossed with the western travelers along the Via Maris (the northern route from Egypt to Syria).  There is no evidence of the use of the name “Nazareth” for the crossroads region in the Galilee in pre-Christian texts.  But, there is ample evidence of human occupation in the region, dating back to the Neolithic.  The nearby town of Sepphoris was also occupied during Israelite kingdom of the Iron Age and grew again during the Hellenistic Period.  During the 1st century C.E., Sepphoris grew again, becoming a wealthy town under the Romans. Both Sepphoris and Nazareth occupy heights overlooking the valley passages from the Sea of Galilee in the east and the Mediterranean to the West.  Their names are similar to the watchtower name of Shomron.  Nazareth most likely derives from the Hebrew term to watch, as in keeping guard in a watchtower.  To this day, Jews call Christians, Notzrim (Nazarenes), a term they derived from the watchmen of Ephraim as described in:
Jeremiah 31:6
For there shall be a day, that the watchmen upon the mount Ephraim shall cry, Arise ye, and let us go up to Zion unto the LORD our God.”

In Sepphoris, the other watchers on the other hill overlooking the trade route also had a name that mingled business with religion.  Sepphoris was the Greek transliteration for the Hebrew term for bird. Tzipori is also the name Zipporah, the wife of Moses.  In the Canaanite religion of the ancient Israelites, the bird was one of the symbols of their goddess, who resided in a watchtower, as she wept for her dead son.  Her dead son was worshipped throughout the Levant with baetyls, which are standing stones.  The bird on the baetyl is the key for unlocking the story of the first Christians, which will be explained in the following chapters.

At the time of Mills’ visit to Nabulus, no archaeologist had yet turned a spade in the heartland of Samaria.  But, the region was littered with hints of its rich history.   In the legendary vale, water and rocks conspired to tell ancient tales and Mills went to listen.  Mills listened to the local people and to the landscape, to match what he heard with the tales he knew from the Bible.  But his Bible stories were often significantly different from the stories of the local Samaritans.  His Bible was composed of the Old Testament, derived from the books of the Jews of Jerusalem, and the New Testament, which for centuries Christians have interpreted with Jesus as a Jewish Messiah.  Trying to understand the history of Samaria with a Christian Bible is a bit like trying to learn about England with only Scottish sources.  Sure, there is a lot of information in Jewish sources about Samaria, but it is a wee bit slanted.  But, the Welshman, Mills, was well aware of the bias and did his best to explore Samaritan sources.  The Samaritans, the age-old enemies of the Judeans, have their own version of the Torah, their own story of Joshua conquering Canaan, and their own Chronicles of the kings of Israel.  And, they have their own prophecy of a Messiah, who they call the Taheb, or “restorer.”  The verse from Jeremiah the Jews use to describe Christians as Nazarenes was rejected by the Samaritans, along with all the other Jewish books of prophets.  The term for the watchmen of Ephraim, the Nazarenes, would not pose a problem for Samaritans, but their watchmen would not look to Zion in Jerusalem for their god.  The proper home for their lord was on Mount Gerizim.  Or, at least the lord’s house was on Gerizim until the Jewish king, John Hyrcanus, destroyed the Samaritan temple in about 110 BCE.   The Samaritans were hoping for their Messiah, the Taheb, to restore their temple for 180 years before the destruction of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem, in 70 CE by the Romans.  The Samaritan watchmen were looking for a messiah far more intently and for longer than their Jewish neighbors when early Christianity was evolving.

One of the places where Mills listened and learned the secrets of the valley was at a dilapidated Mosque, he called: Sheech el Amud and translated as meaning: “the saint of the pillar.”  The local Samaritans simply called the spot “the pillar” and claimed it as the site where Joshua set up his standing stone and where Jacob buried the idols, his wife Rachel had spirited away from her father, under a sacred oak tree.  Today, the location of Joshua’s pillar is known as Tel Balata, an archaeology site just a bit further down the slope of Mt. Gerizim from “the pillar” mosque.  The site was occupied during the Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age and features the remains of a temple, sporting a massive standing stone.  Tel Balata is the remains of the Biblical city, Shechem.

But, “the pillar” mosque further up the mountain has a story and ancient remains too.  Mills’ little mosque is called Rijal el-Amud and has a similar meaning to “the saint of the pillar.”  It means: “men of the columns” and is located over the remains of a monumental propylaeum, which was the pillared gateway in front of the stairs that led up to the temple complex on Mount Gerizim.  Legend has it that 40 prophets are buried by the gateway to the temple.  According to Josephus, a “false” messiah gathered his followers at the base of Gerizim in 36 CE, with the intent of climbing the mount to the ruined temple, where the messiah promised to show his followers the vessels of Moses.  Pontius Pilate was called in to stop the rabble rouser and his followers.  Pilate killed a bunch of them and executed the messiah and his ring leaders.  Josephus called the site of Pilate’s slaughter “Terathaba.”  No such village is known at the base of Mount Gerizim.  The closest equivalent would be Tubas, a town northeast of the valley and not a place convenient for gathering before climbing the mountain.  But, Terathaba can be translated as Tera, meaning gate, and Taba, meaning slaughter.  Tera Taba, the Gate of Slaughter, is an apt name for the site where Pilate slew the Samaritan messiah in front of the propylaeum.  It also explains why the local Muslims call the site “the men of the columns.”  This story is the most detailed reference, outside of the gospels, of Pontius Pilate executing a messiah type character.  And, as you will see in the following pages, executing a messiah type character in front of pillars at the base of Mount Gerizim was of exceptional religious meaning for the local people.  Sure, it could mean a lot to execute a messiah in Jerusalem too, because of the shared religious history of Jews and Samaritans. But, in 36 CE, an executed messiah was more meaningful in Samaria because their temple already lay in ruins.  The Jesus story didn’t mean much for many Jews until after their temple was also destroyed in 70 CE.

On top of Mount Gerizim, Mills’ guide showed him twelve stones deeply set in the ground, which stood in front of their temple.  The Samaritans claimed the stones were removed from Gilgal, where Joshua had erected them in a circle and re-erected on Gerizim.  It was not unusual for materials from one holy site to be reused at another.  The archaeologists who excavated the Gerizim temple believe some of the materials were recycled from an older temple in the valley of Shechem.  But, standing stones could be from almost anywhere because they were a central feature of religious sites all over the Levant.  There was not just one Gilgal, standing stones were all over the place.  But, for Samaritans, the lord of the gilgal was their savior god, Joshua.  In Greek, the word “gilgal” was bastardized as Golgotha and “Joshua” became Jesus.  In Josephus story, we find the Jesus executed at Golgotha.  Josephus doesn’t say Pilate crucified the messiah, but it is possible.

The other story told by Josephus relevant to the Christian gospels, is the arrest and execution of John the Baptist.  According to tradition, John was buried at Sebaste, which was the Roman city built atop Shomron, the citadel of the Israelite kings at the western end of the valley.  Josephus’ sequence of events with the execution of John followed by the execution of the messiah at Gerizim agrees with the sequence in the gospels.  However, Josephus’ accounts of the executions do not mean they actually happened.  Josephus was born about 37 CE and wrote his Antiquities about 94 CE.  He was writing about things that supposedly happened before he was born.  They could be based on some kind of fact, but for our purposes it does not matter.  What is significant is that with Josephus we have the basis of the gospel tale of John the Baptist and Jesus, but the center of the action was meaningful to Samaritans, not to Jews.  And, the oldest known story of Jesus, the Gospel of Mark, was written by someone who looked to Gerizim as the holy mountain of his god, not to Jerusalem.  How do I know Mark’s Jesus was a Samaritan?  Let’s just say a little bird told me. 

What the bird said is in Chapter Two.

This is a draft for my first chapter of my new book: The Mark of Simon Magus

The final draft will include the references and will most likely be rearranged a bit.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Is Islam the most violent religion?

Is Islam the most violent religion? 

Yes, it is now.  But Islam is not inspiring so much violence now because it is so different from other religions. The violence is due to its similarities with other faiths.  The world’s most successful religions all succeeded due to their political usefulness. Any politically useful religion must contain both commands to violence and exploitation, as well as promoting peace and goodwill, because such powers are necessary for political leaders.  Every politically successful religion contains the dichotomy between violence and peace.  The world’s first empire, The Akkadian, was formed by Sargon I, with his goddess, Ishtar.  She was the ultimate violence/peace deity. The goddess of love and war was useful to Sargon because she rallied his troops, provided the organization for grain production, and promoted trade.  She even presided over prostitution and beer.  What more could a warlord king want out of a goddess? Every politically successful religion of West Asia has been a variation on the Ishtar model since the Akkadians, because no war is successful without the productivity of peace.  That dichotomy of love and violence in deities is not contradictory. it is the secret to their success.

Ishtar in warrior aspect handing the measuring rod and line
to King Zimrilim.  As a successful warrior king, Zimrilim
was in charge of measuring the fields for grain production.

Ishtar’s heirs, Christianity and Islam, are the two greatest political success stories in the history of religion.  They succeeded through war, exploitation, and oppression, as well as by promoting peace, innovation, and economic success.  However, the West left the East in the dust by side lining religion.  The West used Enlightenment ideals to form secular governments, pursuing both their peaceful and violent ambitions with an increasing reliance on science and reason and minimizing religion.  It turns out that using facts gets one further than using mythology.  The West can wage war and produce grain on a scale that Sargon could not imagine. 

Both Christianity and Islam are now antique political systems and secularism is the clear victor.  Christianity only seems more peaceful than Islam because it is protected within secular political systems.  For a time, West Asia was moving in the direction of secularism with leaders like Ataturk, and Mohammed would have gone the way of Ishtar if not for oil.  Islam only succeeds today because of the economic success of a few Muslims, due to the exploitative technologies developed by the West.  Political Islam is resurgent for exactly the same reason political Christianity became such a force in the USA: oil.  People who have extraordinary wealth due to oil are using religion to maintain and advance their political power within their respective cultures.  The Koch brothers and the Saudi Royal family utilize the same antique methods of leading people to their advantage.

The weakness of the secular system is that it only requires a few people using reason and science to achieve great success.  The masses can still be managed with the antique systems, especially under Islam because secularism is not a tradition in Islamic culture.  Even most American Christians exalt our Constitution as the law of the land, not the Bible.  Muslims simply do not share our value of secular government because they do not share our history.

Islam already lost the war with secularism.  But, no war is a success without ending in peace, and terrorism is a method of stealing our peace. Committing to engage in a never-ending military battle against terrorism is a mistake.  Declaring an “inherent resolve” to fight ISIS with the expectation it will take decades to resolve is to slash our wrists and slowly bleed out on the writhing body our defeated enemy.  We need to win the peace and do it quickly.  The only way to achieve peace militarily is to blast Islamic strongholds to smithereens, which would mean genocide.  Whether we do it slowly with “inherent resolve” or quickly with really big bombs, the result will be the same.  The only difference is how many years of peace we sacrifice for it.  We will lay our science and reason on the altar of war, rather than using it to master peace and prosperity for the greater good of all people.  A much better option is to cut off the hand that feeds Islamists with oil profits.  We need to wage an economic war on Islam and minimize our military action.  We must find a way to side line the political power of religion in all governments if we are ever to win the peace. 

Monday, September 10, 2012

Child Sacrifice and the Savior God in Palestine (excerpt from Sex Rites)

Chapter 12:  Honey, I Burnt the Kids


Child sacrifice as a Phoenician/Punic religious rite is a well accepted fact amongst professional scholars; but, remains a bone of contention amongst some interest groups. Particularly in Lebanon, some people resent their ancestors described as baby killers. It is seen as a continuation of the disparagement leveled by ancient Greeks and Romans.  The evidence from Tophet sites and other archaeological evidence prove that children really were sacrificed.  But, the evidence does not explain how they came up with the idea to burn living babies to death.  However, there are historical events which are likely candidates for explaining the Tophet phenomenon.  Identifying historical events in the Levant which inspired this religious practice should help alleviate sensations of ethnic disparagement.

Human sacrifice occurred in many ancient cultures; however, the Tophet phenomenon was unique to Phoenician/Punic religion and is exceptionally shocking.  Simply describing the agricultural myth of the grain cycle as the basis for the rite is not adequate, because every ancient culture held the same basic religious concepts.  There is no evidence that the Dumuzi myth of the dying and resurrecting grain god inspired human sacrifice in Mesopotamia.  The only evidence of Mesopotamian human sacrifice was in the rich mortuary site from the Ur III period.  A whole retinue of servants were poisoned and enclosed in the tomb of their dead queen (or priestess), to serve her in the afterlife.  The same practice of killing royal attendants was found in Egypt.  But, that practice was not the basis for the Tophet ritual. Occasionally, substitute kings were killed due to bad omens in Mesopotamia; but, that does not explain the murder specifically of children at the Tophet. Only the ancient people of the Levant and their close cousins around the Mediterranean burnt children alive and sustain that practice over many centuries.  The explanation for this rite must be found within the historical experience unique to this region. 

The people of the Levant were no more cruel or barbaric than every other ancient culture.  Every ancient religion manifested itself in bizarre rituals.  (Some of my ancestors were Vikings; so, I certainly don’t point fingers at other people’s ancestors and call them barbarians.)  Also, none of these ancient religions should be described as “folk” religions.  As explained, ethnicity simply was not a driving force in Bronze Age and Iron Age culture.  The early cults described in this book were specifically not ethnic phenomenon.  These cults were “king” cults, designed by politically ambitious priests.  “The people” of the Levant did not collectively decide to burn babies.  It was a priesthood who devised an awesome ritual, to advance their political power in the region.  The baby burning ritual was the idea of a few sadistic priests, not the collective ancestors of today’s Lebanese.  The only fair criticism of the general public of this ancient culture is that they believed in their religion, as defined by these sadistic priests.  They were hoodwinked by some rotten leaders, who mesmerized them with mumbo jumbo.  The Tophet ritual is the saddest example which fits the quote by physicist Steven Weinberg:

“Good people will do good things, and bad people will do bad things. But for good people to do bad things -- that takes religion.”

History is full of examples of leaders using religion to mislead people.  But, the Tophet ritual was inspired by a specific set of circumstances.  The political organization of the Levant under the Egyptians during the Late Bronze Age created a unique experience for the Canaanite ancestors of Phoenician/Punic culture. That situation is the probable inspiration behind the Tophet.  The Egyptian method of managing their Canaanite provinces gave a unique status to a specific class of children, the same class as were later sacrificed at the Tophet.  The collection of letters found at Amarna in Egypt provides some clues to the Tophet. In Amarna letter 180, a 14th century BCE Canaanite headman exclaimed:

“I have sent my son to the king, my lord, my god, my sun!”

This headman probably never saw his son again.   Sending his son as a hostage to Egypt was the price he paid to the god-king, in exchange for power.  As a mayor over a pharaoh’s town in Canaan, the headman followed the same rules as the mayors in Egypt: swearing allegiance to the pharaoh and sending his own children as hostages to Egypt (Redford 1992, 198).  This headman was most likely sent to Egypt when he was a boy too.  The practice was established during the century prior to the headman’s letter, by Thutmose III, as the pharaoh states:

“Now the children of the chiefs and their brothers were brought to be hostages in Egypt; and as for any of these chiefs that died, His Majesty used to have his son assume his post.” (Redford 1992, 198)

Although the headman’s son was as good as dead to his father, he did have hope that the boy would return after his death, to take over his political duties.  In Egypt, these boys were often guards of the pharaoh and ran before his royal chariot (Redford 1992, 198).  Those destined to return to Canaan were educated and indoctrinated to serve as loyal administrators for the pharaoh.  The children were quite young when they were sent to Egypt; so, they left home as Canaanite children and returned as Egyptian god-like men. Canaanite girls were also sent as hostages to Egypt; but, their experience is less clear.  Perhaps some of them returned to Canaan as the brides of the returning headmen.

The children’s experience in Egypt was mostly brainwashing.  The children ate well, were relatively well educated, and physically trained for military duty.  But, they spent their childhood within the sphere of the most politically powerful man on earth.  Not only was the pharaoh powerful on earth, he was thought to be a god and able to transcend death.  No doubt, the children became well acquainted with Egyptian religion.  It is very likely that the boys were ceremonially circumcised.  Circumcision was already practiced in Egypt for at least 1,000 years before Thutmose III.  Even if Canaanites were already practicing circumcision, for these particular boys the rite was performed in Egypt.  One can imagine that circumcision was a traumatic ceremony for adolescent boys.  They were ritually dedicated to the pharaoh in a very personal and physical manner, which could not be undone.  They lived with the mark for the rest of their life, which defined them as headmen of the pharaoh.

Circumcision was also a dangerous procedure, sometimes resulting in death.  The most ridiculous proposal is that circumcision was performed for cleanliness.  The risk of infection far outweighed any imaginable physical benefits.  In later Judaism, the Talmud created an exemption from circumcision for infant males who had two brothers who died, due to complications caused by circumcision.  Far from being a healthful benefit, circumcision was a cause of death for boys.  It served purely religious functions.

There are at least two reasons to believe that the hostage Canaanite boys were ritually circumcised in Egypt.  One is that the other area of Egyptian expansion during this time period was Ethiopia.  Circumcision also became a regular practice in Ethiopia.  Most likely, circumcision was introduced amongst both Canaanites and Ethiopians at this time, by the returning hostage children.  The other reason is that Queen Hatshepsut rebuilt the Mut temple at Luxor, next to the temple of Khonsu, just prior to the beginning of hostage ordeal of Canaanite children.  Thutmose III took credit for her patronage at Luxor and continued its use.  The current Khonsu temple was built later by Ramses III; but, on the site of the earlier temple.  Its wall sculptures contain one of the rare depictions of circumcision in Egypt (Wikimedia Commons 2010).  It seems that initiation into the cult included circumcision.   Khonsu was at his height of popularity during this period, called: "Greatest God of the Great Gods".  He was often depicted as a boy sarcophagus.  In Egypt, circumcision was associated with a dead boy-god.  However, there is no evidence of human sacrifice rituals associated with Khonsu in Egypt. 

Queen Hatshepsut’s elevation of the cult makes sense in her artistic portrayals as a man.  Most speculation about why Hatshepsut was portrayed as a man focuses on assumed sexism by Egyptians.  Since the pharaoh was supposed to be a man, Hatshepsut portrayed herself as a man in art.  However, hermaphrodites were considered by ancient people with exceptional religious awe.  Hatshepsut portrayed herself like a living Ishtar.  She was like the goddess who changed from female to male, as the morning and evening star, Venus.  She associated herself with the lioness goddess Sekhmet, who was Anat in West Asia.  She liked her self-image as a magical hermaphrodite.  Circumcision was a method of creating hermaphrodites. 

The best explanation so far for the circumcision ritual is that it created hermaphrodites. Circumcising a pubescent boy gave him genital bleeding, like a girl reaching menarche.  It was a more effective method of creating a hermaphrodite than castration, which left most males without the ability to have an erection.  A circumcised boy bled like a girl; but, retained the sexual abilities of a male too.  It is not surprising that the gender bending Hatshepsut elevated the circumcision cult of Khonsu.  Thutmose III built another temple in honor Khonsu in the south at Kom Ombo.  The Khonsu cult was politically important to Thutmoses III, whose priority was expanding territories and securing the provinces.  So, it makes sense that the hostage children were initiated into this cult. 

Thutmose III’s method of training up loyal headmen was very successful.  The letters in the Amarna archive show headmen who have a deep sense of subservience to the pharaoh, imbued with religious reverence and fear.  The whole of Canaanite society learned a deep respect for their Egyptian overlord.  They watched their neighbors deported and the children of the elite class taken hostage.  They experienced the horrors of war in the successful Egyptian campaign against the Mitanni, fought in their hometowns.  The pharaoh was god-like, in their experience.  But, the net result of loyalty to the pharaoh was a period of peace and prosperity.  For 65 years, there were no military actions in Canaan and trade goods moved along the Canaanite trade routes (Redford 1992, 166).  This was remembered as a good time in Canaan.  It was a period longed for, after things turned desperately bad, during the economic collapse at the end of the Bronze Age.

It takes very little stretch of the imagination to assume that Canaanites interpreted the departure of the children and their return as the ruling class, religiously.  The initiation of the hostage practice struck at the heart of Canaanite agricultural rituals.  Thutmose III’s invasion of 1476 BCE coincided with the harvest (Redford 1992, 158).  The first shipment of Canaanite children to Egypt was accompanied by massive quantities of grain, wine, and fruit.  The successive payments of tribute and shipments of children to Egypt also occurred at the death of the grain god.  The weeping for Tammuz ceremonies coincided with children leaving Canaan to go to the pharaoh, a self-proclaimed god. 

And, the pharaoh wasn’t just any god.  He was the sun, Ra.  The weeping for Tammuz ceremony was presided over by the burning sun of the summer solstice.  It was represented in the sky by the Arrow constellation.  The image of the arrow was depicted as a bird on a perch, with the gender-bending Ishtar standing on one side and the hermaphrodite True Shepherd of Anu on the other.  This all occurs in the zodiac sign of Cancer.  Because of the precession of the zodiac, the location of the stars is a bit askew on the star chart.  However, even in their current locations, they are very close to the south axis, which forms a cross with the east-west axis of the spring equinox and autumn equinox.   1,500 years before Christianity, Canaanites watched princes depart for the realm of god, with the promise that they would return as kings.  And, their departure coincided with an imaginary cross in the sky.

The remnants of Canaanite mythology also have themes remarkably symbolic of the hostage children’s experience.  In the Ugarit story of Aqhat, Danel was like the Canaanite headmen kings, whose political power came from Egypt.  The story even has an Egyptian link, because Kothar-and-Khasis (the lords of Memphis) bestowed their bow and arrows on Aqhat’s father, Danel (Aqhat, 24).  Kothar and Khasis became one as Kothar wa Hasis, the craftsmen deity; in other words: a carpenter.  He was later identified as Hephaestus by the Greeks and the father of Eshmun, the boy god of Sidon.  And, in Christian myth, he was Joseph the carpenter.  With the bow and arrows of Kothar and Khasis, Aqhat’s father, Danel, was an equivalent of Resheph.  Resheph was the “lord of arrow” and god of plagues and war.  He was the Apollo of Canaanite myth.  And, Phoenicians said that Apollo was the real father of Eshmun, not Hephaestus.  Danel was called “the healer’s man” and his name meant “judge.”  These terms made him one of the Rephaim, the panel divine judges. The panel was composed of dead kings in the ancestor worship of Canaanites. 

The death of Danel’s son, Aqhat, and his sister’s rescue of him were symbolic of the children’s sojourn in Egypt.  Aqhat’s death was the result of disobedience to Anat. Aqhat refused to give the goddess the Egyptian bow and arrows of his father and she killed him.  This is a star story, referring to the goddess as the Bow constellation and Aqhat beside her as the Arrow of the summer solstice.  It is similar to the Mesopotamian Dumuzi story, in which his sister, Geshtianna, rescued her brother, by taking his place in the underworld.  Aqhat’s sister plays a similar role.  Aqhat also comes back to life, after a seven year drought.  The seven years symbolized the seven stars of Ursa Major, which makes up the constellation of the Wagon.  The seven stars plus the dead boy also make up the eight spokes of the wagon wheel, which composed the double-cross.  The Wagon constellation crossed the south axis of the celestial cross at the summer solstice.  In Hebrew, “wheel” is gilgal, which was transliterated in Greek as Golgotha.  Golgotha was not a place on earth, where Jesus was crucified.  His death was represented in the Wheel of heaven. 

It doesn’t matter whether Canaanite myths like Aqhat were already in currency in 1476 BCE or were written after Thutmoses III. The parallels between the stories and the events are suggestive of how the Canaanites viewed the hostage children, from a religious perspective.  Aqhat was modeled on the age old story in the sky, originally told for Dumuzi/Tammuz.  But, it became a real life story for the Canaanite boys sent to Egypt.

Since Ugarit had such a close relationship with Egypt, it is not surprising to find their political ties echoed in their mythology.  However, every pharaoh’s town in Canaan was undergoing the same Egyptian management of the elite class. The religious interpretation of the hostage children can be assumed as similar to that of Ugarit, throughout Canaan.  The mythology of Ugarit echoed down through the ages, to be repeated by Philo of Byblos, in the 2nd century CE.  Their stories are also very similar to Bible tales.  Ugarit mythology represents the religious worldview in the region, which survived from the Bronze Age and through the period of Tophet practice.  By the time of Philo, Phoenician mythology had lost its Egyptian political overtones; but, still retained evidence of Egyptian influence.  The Hellenized 2nd century Sanchuniathon, by Philo of Byblos, contains a father sacrificing his son:

"Cronus offered up his only begotten son as a sacrifice to his father Ouranus, and circumcised himself ...”

Even as late as the 2nd century CE, Phoenician myth linked child sacrifice with a religious practice inherited from Egypt: circumcision.

The departure of the Canaanite children was no doubt traumatic and likely accompanied with religious ceremony.  The return of the boys as Egyptian grown men must have been impressive as well.  These returning sons must have looked like gods to the Canaanites.  They were physically fit from military service and dressed in Egyptian costume, just like the gods in Canaanite temples.  After a childhood in Egypt, the returning headmen were foreigners in their homeland; so, portraying themselves as messiah-like saviors was useful for legitimizing their rule.  To the Egyptians, the headmen were just mayors, administering their rule and taxation over the Canaanite provinces.  But to the Canaanites, the headman filled the West Asian traditional role of priest-king, the human link to the divine order. 

The other unique characteristic of these headmen is that they were members of the elite maryannu class.  The maryannu were a warrior caste of charioteers.  They often practiced cremation, rather than the interment burial practices of the lower classes (Redford 1992, 136).  Cremation carried a different concept of the type of afterlife in store for the dead than interment. An interred dead person was headed for the underworld as a hungry ghost. Only special people were worthy of cremation, particularly heroes.  Cremation transported heroes to the realm of the gods: their spirits were taken up with the smoke.  Smoke was imagined to actually be the spirit of god.  These beliefs were best preserved in the literature of the other charioteer culture, the Greeks.  They believed that cremated warriors were headed for the Elysian Fields for a glorious afterlife, very unlike the dreary afterlife in Hades.  Cremation became fashionable during the Late Bronze Age, continuing into the Archaic Period in the Eastern Mediterranean.  However, it remained a common practice in later Phoenician/Punic culture.  This is another indication that the Bronze Age historical experience of Canaanites was formative in the later religious practices of their descendents. 

For Canaanites, the religious symbolism of children played out in reality.  Their agricultural myth of the dying grain god truly came to life.  In other cultures, kings made political hay of the myths with grandiose ceremonies, such as in Mesopotamia and Egypt.  Legends about kings were regularly concocted to draw parallels between their lives and the gods.  But in Canaan, the sons of kings really did appear to die, travel to the realm of the gods, and come back to life as the new king.  The whole lifecycle of the headman was rife with religious meaning.  This life story, which was so unique to Late Bronze Age Canaanites, is the likely inspiration of the Tophet practice.

There is no evidence for the Tophet phenomenon during the Bronze Age.  It began sometime after 1200 BCE, as the Phoenician city-states recovered from the tumult of the Dark Age, when Egypt lost control of the Levant (G. E. Markoe 1990, 13).  The archaeological evidence suggests that the Canaanite cities, such as Tyre, continued to be occupied; but, in an impoverished state (Brody 2002, 75). 

Again from Ugarit, literature provides some insight into their cultic practices in 1200 BCE.  KTU1.161 is a liturgy, initiating the cult of the dead king, Niqmadu III.  The text calls on the Rephaim, who were divine past kings, as protectors of the city (Levine 1984).  As a divine council, numbers were symbolic, such as the eight member panels of judges. So, the symbolism of the eight-spoke wheel was relevant to their concepts of the Rephaim. His funeral was cremation ritual.  The Wagon constellation represented his bier, carrying his smoky spirit to the afterlife.  Their form of ancestor worship carried the notion that the dead of the elite class could help the living and continued to have interest in their city.  So, by killing the sons of the elite class, they imagined they were creating savior gods, as tutelary deities for cities.  The dead child’s purpose was political, creating a locus of worship unique to each city.  The political nature of the boy-gods is evident in their rather secretive names.  Their names do not identify them as nature deities.  They all carry titles describing them as members of a royal household.  Philo of Byblos gave an explanation for child sacrifice, which fits with the ancestor worship of Ugarit:

“It was the custom among the ancients, in times of great calamity, in order to prevent the ruin of all, for the rulers of the city or nation to sacrifice to the avenging deities the most beloved of their children as the price of redemption: they who were devoted this purpose were offered mystically. For Cronus, whom the Phoenicians call Il, and who after his death was deified and instated in the planet which bears his name, when king, had by a nymph of the country called Anobret an only son, who on that account is styled Ieoud, for so the Phoenicians still call an only son: and when great dangers from war beset the land he adorned the altar, and invested this son with the emblems of royalty, and sacrificed him.” (Eusebius, History of the Church, I:10.-IV)

Philo’s account of the son invested with emblems of royalty, prior to his sacrifice, is understandable in the context of the Rephaim of Ugarit.  Their belief that dead royalty became divine meant that the son could become influential over the interests of the city-state in the supernatural realm.  However, the concept that a child was useful in the divine realm came from the experience of sending children to the sun-god of Egypt as hostages.  For generations, the headmen of the pharaoh’s towns in Canaan appealed to the pharaoh to send troops, when threatened by war.  Many of the self-abasing letters of the headmen in the Amarna Archive are just such appeals.  With the economic collapse at the end of the Bronze Age and Egypt’s withdrawal from Canaan, memories of the good ole days of the Egyptian imperial period became myth.  They began sending their appeals and hostage children to the divine realm, rather than Egypt. They began practicing child sacrifice.

All of the most shocking elements of the Tophet rites follow with religious logic from a basis in a unique historical experience.  The Tophet children were burned alive; so, they were not considered dead and going to the underworld.  They were taken up alive with the smoky spirit of god.  This was a conflation of the cremation rite and a memory of the children sent as hostages to the sun-god in Egypt.  The children were not really sacrificial, in the more common sense of burnt sacrifices as food for the gods.  For that purpose, the children of enemies or the lower classes would suffice.  But, the Phoenicians sacrificed the children of the elite class.  These children were well loved and continued to be honored, after the burning ordeal at the Tophet.  At Carthage, the parents of the children continued to make offerings at the Tophet, such as baby bottles of milk.  The pottery bottles were shaped with a spout for suckling and decorated with religious symbols.  The babies lived on in the imaginations of their parents with messiah-like qualities.  They were considered to have influence over the well-being of their cities. 

This rite was not the result of a barbaric, exceptionally cruel culture.  No ancient culture survives scrutiny without a dark side being exposed.  Rather, the Tophet phenomenon derived from an extreme religious sense of inferiority and subservience to the gods, and the high religious status of the elite class children, fostered under Egyptian rule.  It was a concept that political power and the well-being of a Phoenician city came at the enormous price of giving their most precious children as hostages to the gods. 

It is during the early stages of Iron Age I that what is termed Phoenician culture emerged.  They were politically independent of Egypt and the other major players of the internationalism, which characterized the Bronze Age. The Phoenicians began a rapid expansion into the Mediterranean establishing trade colonies. They also expanded to the east and south, taking over the old land trade routes.  Literary and archaeological evidence of human sacrifice turn up along all of their trade routes.  Wherever there was smoke from child sacrifice, there was a Phoenician.

The cult of Melqart appeared suddenly at Tyre in the 10th century BCE (Clifford 1990, 57).  His name, “City King” suggests that the cult originated as a king-cult, similar to that described at Ugarit.  But, with the distinct difference that it was founded on the sacrifice of the king’s son, rather than the dead kings of old.  Eshmun of Byblos, Adonis of Sidon, and Melqart of Tyre were all savior gods, with youthful characters and associated with the royal house of each city (Clifford 1990, 57).  They were all cults founded with child sacrifice.

The Tyrians built a temple to Melqart at Gades, now called Cadiz, in Southwestern Spain.  The striking feature to Greeks about the sanctuary was that it had no cult statue.  The focus of worship was an altar, with a continuously fed fire.  As stated before, “Melqart” simply translates as “king of the city.”  He was not a nature deity, like the storm god, grain god, etc.  He was a political god.  The other Phoenician city gods were similar.  And as Philo recounts, these gods were also called Ieoud, which means “only son.”  Greeks identified Melqart as Hercules.  Their imagery of the Phoenician boy-gods borrowed artistic themes from the boy-gods of Egypt.  Particularly Hercules was portrayed with the lion skin of Khonsu.  Khonsu was a manifestation of Horus, portrayed wearing a lion skin, the sidelock Egyptian haircut for boys, and as a sarcophagus.  Another form of Horus was Iunmutef, portrayed as a boy with a sidelock, wearing a panther skin.  These Egyptian boy-gods were no doubt part of the inspiration for the new gods, which emerge in the Levant at the beginning of the Iron Age.

Unique to the Levant and in the Phoenician colonies was more aniconism than in neighboring cultures.  Aniconic worship is defined by the use of standing stones, baetyls, obelisks, pillars, or poles, as objects of worship, rather than cult statues.  It became very common amongst the Nabataeans of Transjordan, with the best evidence dating from the Roman Period (Wenning 2001).  And, of course Judaism, with its proscription against graven images, evolved from this local emphasis on aniconism.  The Muslim taboo about representing gods in human form is also a direct descendent from this tradition of aniconism in the Levant. 

Neither the Mesopotamians nor Egyptians considered their cult statues to be graven images.  Mesopotamian statues went through a ceremony in which it was born by the river, and enlivened with an opening of the mouth ritual (Hurowitz 2003).  The ritual birth and endowing the statue with spirit was very similar to baptism.  Egyptian statues of gods went through similar rites in which the spirit of the god entered the statue.  But, the savior gods of the Levant created through human sacrifice, became the least likely to be represented by a statue, particularly in the holy of holies of their temples.  But, some savior gods also were treated to the baptism ritual.  The aniconic statue of the savior at Hierapolis (Bambyce) was taken twice a year for a baptism.

Another good example of aniconism is Tikulti-Ninurta’s altar of Nusku, which was just a throne.  The king was represented artistically on the throne; but, not the god.  Nusku was never represented with a statue and his symbol was a lamp.  And, his altar dates to the end of the Bronze Age-beginning of the Iron Age, contemporary with the beginning of child sacrifice.  There isn’t any evidence of human sacrifice associated with Iron Age Nusku in Mesopotamia.  But, the concept of Nusku as a formless god suggests his inspiration for the taboo against representing the boy-gods with statues. 

There was a Bronze Age precedent for the dying-resurrecting gods in particular to not be represented with images. One curious thing about the Sumerian Dumuzi is that he and the stories about him do not seem to be represented in Mesopotamian art (Black 2004, 73). Few cult statues have survived of any deity; but, most of the pantheon is well represented on cylinder seals. Inanna appears on seals quite frequently and in other mediums of art as well. The famous “Warka head” that was stolen during the looting of the Iraqi museum following the American invasion, is likely the remains of Inanna’s cult statue at Uruk. But Dumuzi doesn’t appear in any medium.

There are several possible reasons the absence of Dumuzi in art; however, they are sheer speculation. One reason is that he might be represented but not recognized or representations have simply not been found. These reasons seem unlikely because he was a relatively important god.  Another possibility is that most of the sexually explicit material from Mesopotamia remains unpublished (Black 2004, 151).  Museums and educational institutions have long been dominated by a Victorian sense of propriety.  Much of what the public knows about ancient people has been sanitized, so as not to upset the “moral authorities.”  So, the material most likely to depict Dumuzi has yet to be thoroughly interpreted.  The Sumerians may have had some prohibition against representing Dumuzi. However, it is hard to imagine such a prohibition being maintained over the millennia, during which Dumuzi was considered a god. Such religious prohibitions have turned out to be a recurrent fad rather than a well maintained rule for all time.  The taboo against representing savior gods was certainly not translated into Greek, where his various incarnations were popular in art.  Even Islam went through periods which violated the taboo against the human form.

 The best explanation is that Dumuzi was so strongly associated with the divine status of kingship, that representations of real kings were sufficient representation of Dumuzi. His identification with living kings may have constituted a prohibition against his image, independent of the king. Kings are well represented in art, often depicted with Inanna and her later interpretations. Like in the New Year’s love poem in which lines about Inanna/Dumuzi and the queen/king are arranged in couplets; art depicting the king and Inanna may have been parallel with depicting Inanna/Dumuzi.

In the Levant, Dumuzi was called Tammuz and was represented by a pole or a pillar.  The Phoenician form of Ishtar worship was a temple with an altar and some type of pole erected next to the altar.  The holes for these pillars have been found in the remains of her temples. It is not known whether the poles were wooden, stone, metal, or varied from temple to temple.  They were a phallic symbol, like the poles erected in Egypt for Min.  The pole erected during the festival of Min was used as some sort of sport competition.  There is a relief showing young men climbing the pole from ropes suspended from the top of the pole. 

This tendency to represent savior gods symbolically also shows up in the star chart.  The Arrow constellation of the summer solstice was represented as a bird on a high perch, or pole.  The mythical deaths of the savior gods all occur with the Arrow constellation.  The actual deaths of the children appear to have been at any time the ritual was considered necessary.  But, the commemoration of their deaths occurred on the “weeping for Tammuz” holiday, with the Arrow constellation.

The earliest archaeological evidence for a Tophet is from 9th century BCE in Tyre (Seeden 1991).  The poorly preserved remains from Tyre do not indicate infant sacrifice. One of the identifiable samples was from a youth of about 14 years old.  The age of the victim is comparable with circumcision rituals.  Early Egyptian circumcision was performed on adolescent boys and the latter Jewish rite on infants.  If the early Tyrian Tophet with the remains of youths is contrasted with the latter Carthaginian and other Mediterranean sites, it appears that the rite underwent a similar transition as circumcision.  Over time, it changed from older to younger victims.  The tombs of Khaldeh, which are contemporary with the Tyrian Tophet, are a mix of interment burials and cinerary urns, some within the same tomb (Ward 1994).  Perhaps this is an example of the evolution of ancestor worship, with cremated sacrificial victims added to the tombs of ancestors.

A Phoenician inscription from Incirli in Anatolia shows that they were actively spreading the practice along their trade routes (G. E. Markoe 2000, 135).  The late 8th century BCE inscription explicitly describes child sacrifice.  It states that a priest from Tyre recommended to the King of Cilicia (the Adana plain region in southern Turkey) that burning his son (or perhaps grandson) would give relief from a plague.  The king preformed a molk sacrifice of a lamb, along with burning the boy.  This inscription is hard evidence that Phoenicians really did practice human sacrifice.

A mid-seventh century Greek krater was illustrated with a girl burned alive (Vermeule 1971).  The krater (a type of Greek pottery vessel used to mix wine) survives only as a fragment; but, clearly shows a live girl carried over a fire by several men.  Phoenicians and Greeks had lots of interaction. Phoenicians settled in Greece and Greeks lived in the Coastal Levant.  There are several stories of human sacrifice in Greek literature and evidence of the ritual performed in Greece too. 

The most relevant story is the Archaic Greek Period Hymn to Demeter.  The Demeter myth unites the old agricultural myth of Dumuzi and Geshtianna with the baby burning ritual.  In the first portion of the Demeter myth, the goddess’ daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped by the god of the underworld.  The daughter was an agricultural fertility deity, like Geshtianna and Dumuzi.  The baby burning ritual occurs later in the Demeter myth, with the goddess holding a baby prince over a fire to transform him into a god.  The Demeter story illuminates an important difference between the Tophet ritual and other forms of sacrifice.  Sacrificial animals were usually thought of as food for the god, not the animal’s transport to becoming a god.  Human sacrificial victims became members of the divine realm, not food for the gods.  Their purpose was to become a deity, sympathetic to the people who killed them.  Their purpose was to be a savior. 

Ortheia, and the rest of the Greek Peloponnese, was heavily influenced by their trade with Phoenicians and Phoenicians also settled in the region. There is plenty of evidence of the Phoenician inspiration behind Artemis worship from her sanctuary at Ortheia, during the 6th century BCE.  The virgin goddess, Artemis, had her West Asian counterpart in Anat, later called Tanit.  The Archaic Period Artemis of Ortheia was much more like the Phoenician Tanit, than the later Classical Period virgin huntress.  And, her rituals included human sacrifice.

The obvious Phoenician link found at Ortheia are the remains of more than 600 masks, which are artistically similar to the masks found at the Tophet site in Carthage and other Phoenician locales (Carter 1987).  In general, masks were for funerary use, placed on the face of the deceased.   However, funeral masks were usually attractive; but, some of these masks are downright scary.  Some of the masks are handsome, depicting hero like characters.  Others are female, probably depicting the goddess.  The scary ones have deeply furrowed faces, bared teeth, and frightful hollows for the eyes.  Some of these masks may depict elderly people who were poisoned to death.  However, the scary masks are smaller than adult life-size.  The masks are baby size.  They look like the face of a burning baby.  At Motya in Sicily, one of the most frightful masks was found at the Tophet site, directly associated with burning babies (Carter 1987).  That mask has an unforgettable, haunting grimace (Wikimedia Commons 2010). 

A mask similar to the grotesque varieties found in Ortheia and the Tophet sites was found in Akhziv, just north of Haifa, Israel.  That mask was a bit older than the Ortheia masks, dating to 800-650 BCE.  Some of the grotesque masks share an affinity with Bronze Age portrayals of Humbaba.  Humbaba’s decapitated head was part of the Dead Man constellation and he was the monster slain by Gilgamesh and Enkidu in the cedar forests, presumably in Lebanon.  The story of Gilgamesh was known in the Levant during the Late Bronze Age.  Fragments of Gilgamesh were found at Megiddo.  The masks also share similarities with the Egyptian god Bes.  Bes was a household protector god, based on a cat; but, also a dwarf with an erect penis.  He was sort of a gross little baby god; but, rather cute.  Regardless of the artistic inspirations for the masks, the ritual associated with them during the Iron Age was human sacrifice.

No physical evidence of human sacrifice was found at Ortheia; but, the circumstantial evidence suggests that the earliest rituals included the rite.  Pausanias, the ancient expert on Greek religious sites, claimed that human sacrifice was practiced in early Artemis worship of the region.  He said that the legendary Spartan King, Lycurgus, replaced blood sacrifice with a ritual of whipping young men on the altar (Carter 1987).   An accumulation of over 600 masks at Ortheia suggests that it was once a pretty horrific cult.

In Pozo Moro, Spain, a cremation tower was decorated with a two headed monster with a bowl full of baby parts in front of him (Wikimedia Commons 2010).  The Pozo Moro relief dates to about 500 BCE and is in another region settled by Phoenicians.  The relief probably does owe some inspiration from the Phoenician practice (Rundin 2004).  However, the relief portrays the child as an offering, a concept of the sacrifice as food for the god.  It is not the original concept of the Phoenician Tophet.  This sort of offering did not create a savior; but, pacified angry gods.  Evidence of this type of sacrifice also increases with the spread of the Tophet.  The victim was dissected, similar to the butchering of animal sacrifices.  A unique symbol in Phoenician art was a hand, like a body part of a dissected victim.  Standing stones were decorated with reliefs in the shape of a hand and little hand models were included in cremation urns.  At Kadesh in the Galilee, a Greco-Roman period burial contained a baby, with its hands and feet chopped off (S. C. Berlin 2003, 25). 

The earliest evidence of the Mother Goddess of Anatolia’s boy, Attis, is from the Phrygian Period of the 8th-6th centuries BCE (Roscoe 1996, 198).  Similar to the Phoenician boy-gods, Attis was from a royal family too.  He was also a dying and rising god.  An archaic period Tophet site on Cyprus was destroyed during the building of a beachfront hotel; so, little information was gathered from the site (Herscher 1998, 313).  But, it is clear that child sacrifice spread to Cyprus, which was culturally very similar to mainland Phoenicia.  This brief overview does not include all of the evidence of the human sacrifice rituals which began in the Iron Age.  However, I think you get the picture: a lot of children were killed.

Phoenician concepts of the boy-god spread south along the trade route too.  According to Israel Finkelstein, the first kingdom to emerge in 9th century BCE Israel was with the Omrides.  King Omri founded the dynasty in Samaria.  The Omrides are the earliest kings of this region named in inscriptions from the time.  The Mesha stele of Moab mentions Omri as oppressing Mesha’s kingdom, east of the Jordan, and dates to the 9th century BCE (Finkelstein 2001, 70).  Omri’s son, Ahab, was mentioned by the Assyrian Shalmaneser III, noting Ahab’s great chariot force at the battle of Qarqar in 853 BCE.  Ahab is famous from the Bible, along with is infamous wife, Jezebel, the Phoenician princess.

It really does look like Omri founded a dynasty, built his capital in Samaria, and built several other fortified towns.  The Omrides are the earliest known kings attested to archaeologically with theophoric names based on Yahweh.  Like Melqart, Eshmun, and Adonis, Yahweh was a new god, not known prior to the Iron Age. The Omrides are the earliest known devotees of Yahweh and they are the most likely inventors of his cult. Of the four Omride kings known from the Bible, only Omri and Ahab are securely known from inscriptions.  Jehoram may be mentioned in one of the two Tel Dan inscriptions.  Ahaziah is not known outside of the Bible. 

Of the four Omride kings, only Ahab does not contain “Yahweh” in his name.  His name means “father’s brother.”  Uncle is a strange name for a kid.  Actually, kings chose their names when they ascended the throne.  It was almost a rule during this period that West Asian kings chose names containing the name of their city’s patron deity. So, Ahab’s name should have something to do with Yahweh too.  If Omri sacrificed Ahab’s brother when he founded his city in Samaria; then, Ahab was the brother of the father of the city – Yahweh.  In this context, Ahab could state that he was his father’s brother.  Omri’s name is translated by modern scholars as “pupil of Yahweh.”  But, the root word means to bind sheaves of wheat together.  Omri chose a name which symbolized his binding people together in worship of Yahweh.  This type of name makes very good religious sense, following from the Phoenician method of establishing a king and city with child sacrifice.

Everything known from the legends about the Omrides in the Bible describes them as practicing Phoenician religion, and they are the earliest known Yahweh worshippers.  The unique features of Yahweh worship also fit the Phoenician concepts of their city gods.  Yahweh didn’t have a cult statue; but, an altar.  His ark contained tablets, which is reminiscent of the Nusku altar featuring the scribe’s stylus.  Nusku and Nabu were in charge of the tablets of destinies.  The Yahweh temple at Elephantine, perhaps built under the Assyrians in Egypt, had an Asherah pillar, during the Persian Period.  A pillar beside an altar was the central feature of Phoenician temples. Also, it should be remembered that these southern cities in the Levant were also pharaoh’s towns during the Bronze Age. They had the same culture as their neighbors to the north, during the Bronze Age.  So, the same type of religion should be expected throughout the Levant, during the Iron Age.  Actually, archaeologists concluded that there was a unity in culture throughout Palestine during the entire Iron Age, including the region of Judah (E. Stern 2001).  They describe the cult in Jerusalem and throughout Judah as “Yahwistic paganism” with no material indicating any significant difference from the rest of the region.

The contemporary kingdom of Moab on the other side of the Jordan was also practicing this same type of religion.  Chemosh or Kemosh and Moloch, the gods east of the Jordan, were consistently associated with a child sacrifice in the Bible.  King Mesha, who mentioned Omri in his stele, stated that he took the altar of dwdh from Ataroth put it in front of his god, Kemosh.  Mesha explained that Ataroth was a city built by the king of Israel (aka the Omrides) for the men of Gad.  Gad means “troop” and Ataroth means “crown.”  If the Mesopotamian practices of kings settling troops on crown land can serve as an example, Ataroth sounds like a fortress built by the Omrides with soldiers settled to farm the land.  Dwdh has the same meaning as David, which is “beloved.”  But, dwdh was not used as a proper name by Mesha; he referred to dwdh (david) as an object, not a person (Lemche 1998, 45).  The david altar was object placed in the cult site at Ataroth by the Omrides.  It referred back to the patron deity of their capital city, Yahweh.  The Omrides did the same as the Tyrians, who set up temples to Melqart with an altar in their colonies, such as Gades.  Mesha also claimed that he invaded and took over Nebo from the Israelites.  Nebo, probably a town in the vicinity of Mount Nebo, was named after the scribal god, Nabu.  Mesha was proud of killing all the people of Nebo and dedicating the town to Ashtar Kemosh, his version of Ishtar.  He also seized vessels dedicated to Yahweh from Nebo and gave them to his god, Kemosh.  So, it is clear that the Omrides established cult sites for Yahweh in their fortress towns and colonies. 

Jerusalem was one of the many pharaohs’ towns during the Bronze Age in the Levant.  Even under the Egyptians, Jerusalem was a minor pharaoh’s town.  But, after the abandonment of the Canaanite territories by the Egyptians, Jerusalem and the surrounding territory of Judea slipped into decline.  The archaeological surveys of Israel Finkelstein show that early Iron Age Judea was very sparsely populated, while Israel to the north was increasingly densely populated under the Omrides.  From an agricultural perspective, the northern lands of Israel, the coastal plain, and the Shephalah of western Judea are absolutely gorgeous.  By contrast, most of Judea was not as good for farming.    Jerusalem was also was not on a major trade route.  Mesha’s central base on the other side of the Jordan was somewhat better for agriculture and he was on a major trade route.  However, Jerusalem had one thing going for it, best expressed by a Bible verse I sang in school as a teenager:

“Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King.”  Psalms 48:2

No one goes to Jerusalem, they go up.  Jerusalem really was beautiful for situation, from an Iron Age military perspective.  Omri’s capital city of Samaria was in the middle of everything.  Jerusalem was on a mountain on the edge of nowhere.  But, it was between the kingdom of Omri and the kingdom of Mesha.  The Mesha stele shows that there was military conflict between the two kingdoms and that the Omrides built defensive fortresses, surrounding their territory.  Jerusalem was a logical location for an Omride fortress.  An archaeology expedition is under way in Jerusalem.  Excavators are fervently seeking an early Iron Age heavily fortified city. Some are anxious to undermine Finkelstein’s assertion that the Omrides were the primary Iron Age power base, not the fabled kingdom of David.  If anything is left of Early Iron Age Jerusalem, I think they will find a fortified city…built by the Omrides.  It was the City of david (small “d”) very much like the fortress town of Ataroth.  It is very likely that the Omrides took advantage of the strategic location of Jerusalem as a fortress and built a stronghold.  Just like Ataroth, they placed a david altar (small “d”) dedicated to Yahweh in Jerusalem.

Phoenician city-states were already feeling pressure from the Assyrians during the earliest period of their expansion, with Tiglath-Pileser I (1114-1076 BCE) extracting tribute from Arwad, Byblos, and Sidon (Stieglitz 1990, 10).  But, the kingdom of Aram-Damascus in Syria helped keep the Assyrians at bay for awhile.  The kingdoms of the Levant formed alliances in defense against the Assyrians.  Ahab’s Phoenician alliance turns up in the archaeological record. His cities show Phoenician artistic influences in architecture and Cypro-Phoenician pottery is found throughout Omride kingdom (Finkelstein 2001, 193).  The Omrides also cooperated with Damascus in defense against the Assyrians.  King Shalmaneser III (858-823 BCE) describes fighting a coalition of Syrian and Palestinian kings (Lemche 1998, 52).

Assyrian domination of the Levant progressed with their regular campaigns.  Phoenicia and Syria were eventually organized into an Assyrian province by Esarhaddon (Albenda 1980, 227).   It is during the 9th – 7th centuries BCE that the oldest known direct references to ritually burning children are found in Assyrian texts.  As punishment for a breach of contract, the violator was to burn his own children as sacrifices to Adad and Belet-Seri (Smith 1975, 479).  The storm god, Adad, and Belet-Seri were known later in Judea as Abram and Sarai, aka Abraham and Sarah.  The Assyrians had numerous gruesome methods for subjugating cities.  But, they realized that this particular practice of burning children was meaningful to their western neighbors.  The Assyrians didn’t establish the practice, they just exploited it.  By forcing conquered Western kings to sacrifice their children to Adad and Belet-Seri, the Assyrians were taking the children hostage, like the Bronze Age Egyptians; but, in the realm of the super-natural.  The other indication that the Tophet practice was attacked and exploited by the Assyrians is that the destruction of cult sites in Palestine, which was traditionally credited to the reforms of Hezekiah and Josiah, actually happened at the hands of the Assyrians (Fried 2002).  So, the Assyrians destroyed high places, called bamot in Hebrew.

  The destruction of the cult sites as told in the Biblical tale of Josiah includes destruction of the Tophet.  Since it was the Assyrians destroyed the cult sites, it looks like they made good on their threat to burn children as offerings to Adad and Belet-Seri.  The Josiah story includes a huge human sacrifice event, burning the priests on their own altars.  Since these were king-cults, the royal family was the priesthood.  If a Judean king named Josiah had anything to do with the destruction of cult sites, he was acting as the agent of the Assyrians.

The same difficulty exists for understanding the religious practices of the Iron Age inland Levant as exist for Phoenicia proper and the coast: the literary evidence was written much later as Hellenized mythology and legend.  Just as Melqart became the hero Heracles, an altar of Yahweh called dwdh became King David.  An incense altar was a very likely object to become personified.  As explored in the earlier chapter about incense use, drugs were a method of communicating with the divine.  Since Yahweh was a king-cult, his incense altar was the spirit of a sacrificed boy.  David was like the Pharaoh’s ka, he was the spirit of kingship. 

Even through the Hellenistic veil created by the authors of the Old Testament stories of David, it is possible to glean some of what the earlier myths were like.  David’s competition with Saul is very much like the Contenting between Set and Horus.  There is even a hint of homosexuality, with the love between David and Jonathan (Saul’s son).  Their story is reminiscent of Gilgamesh and Enkidu. However, David and Jonathan also look very Greek, much like Achilles and Patroklos of the Iliad.  All of these cultures were united with the spread of chariot warfare and trade.  The evidence that the story of David was written during the Hellenistic Period is not that the story looks “Greek.”  It is because the story is a euhemerized myth, which turned a religious term for an altar into a legendary king.

The practice of child sacrifice in the David stories is thinly veiled as well.  David’s first child with Bathsheba died from the curse of a prophet.  The baby was unnamed.  David fasted while the child was alive, and sacrificed at the temple when the baby died. Then, David had a feast.  This story was about a sacrificed baby.  David’s second son died too, caught up in a tree (2nd Samuel 18:9).  David erected a pillar which was … called unto this day, Absalom’s place (2nd Samuel 18:18).  Absalom was caught up in the tree in the Wood of Ephraim, near Jabbok, the same place as Jacob-Israel’s groin injury.  David erected a monument to Absalom in Jerusalem, in the “king’s dale.”  The site of the monument was usually considered to be at the foot of the Mount of Olives.  The Tophet associated with Chemosh and Moloch was at the Mount of Olives.  It is also where Jesus had the Last Supper, descended to the Garden of Gethsemane, and was arrested in Mark.

There is plenty of evidence in the stories of David and his son, Solomon, which unites the culture of Jerusalem with the rest of the Levant.  The divine triad of the Storm God, Love Goddess, and the Boy God were all worshiped in Jerusalem.  The Boy-God was Yahweh and Solomon built his temple.  He also built the Millo for the goddess, called “pharaoh’s daughter.”  Solomon built a palace for himself, which was bigger than Yahweh’s temple.  If Yahweh and “Pharaoh’s daughter” were deities, there is only one character missing from the usual West Asian triad of gods: Baal.  Just as Abraham was the Baal of Hebron, Solomon was the Baal of Jerusalem.

So, what was built in Jerusalem was a temple complex.  It was very similar to the complex of Baalbek (Heliopolis) in the Bekaa valley of Lebanon.  The remains of Baalbek are Roman Period; so, the architectural style is different.  But, the complex still exhibited some West Asian notions about the appropriate shapes and sizes of the temples for the triad.  The largest temple was dedicated to Baal Hadad (Jupiter) and a smaller temple to a youthful male fertility figure (Bacchus).  And, the shrine of Dea Syria-Atargatis (Astarte/Aphrodite/Venus) was a small, lovely, round building.  These shapes and size relationships match Solomon’s buildings.

The clues for why the Baal of Jerusalem was called Solomon are found in the name of the city.  Jerusalem is composed of the words yarah and shalam.  Yarah means to throw out, pour, shoot arrows, or rain.  Baal was a rain god and thunderbolts were his arrows.  Shalam means peace, as does Solomon.  It also means to be in a covenant, or peace agreement.  All of the stories about Solomon revolve around him as the king of peace and prosperity.  The Old Testament claims that Jerusalem was previously called Jebus, which means “threshing place.”  Threshing was a communal activity, usually at a windy site, outside of a village.  The name change of the town indicates that the threshing floor of a small Judean town was turned into a fortress, through a peace agreement. 

In myth, Solomon and his father, David, compose the most ancient of West Asian concepts of ideal kingship and personifications of the aspects of Baal.  David was king of summer, the time of war.  The biggest threat to his life was Saul, the god Nergal/Ninurta, lord of the underworld.  In Mesopotamian myth, the sun god was lord of the underworld and the ruler of the summer period of war.  Like Baal’s descent to the underworld at the beginning of summer, David was driven into the wilderness because of Saul.  Solomon represented the winter king, when the storm god turned from war to agriculture.  The goddess also transformed from her war aspect of summer to her peaceful loving aspect in the winter.  She was Baal’s other self as Salome, the feminine version of Solomon. 

If Solomon was a god, then who was the human who built the temple complex in Jerusalem?  There is a level on which the story of David and Solomon were modeled on real kings, named Omri and Ahab.  Israel Finkelstein established that the “Stables of Solomon” were actually structures built by the Omride dynasty.  And, the structures were not stables.  However, the Omrides were famous during the Iron Age for their chariot horses.  Whatever stories were known about the Omrides were updated and added to during the Hellenistic Period.  Precisely when Omri and Ahab were turned into David and Solomon is hard to determine.  However, the Hellenistic Period Jerusalem priesthood’s hatred for the Samaritans is a likely reason for inventing David and Solomon as kings of Jerusalem.  They turned the Omrides into bad guys and gave David and Solomon credit for the achievements of the Samaritan kings. 

  Hiram of Tyre figures prominently in Solomon’s temple building tales.  There is no archaeologically acquired evidence for Hiram as a contemporary of the mythical Solomon.  But in legend, Jezebel was a princess of Tyre and wife of Ahab.  The worship style of Yahweh was very similar to that of Melqart of Tyre.  Both were forbidden to have cult statues.  Strabo describes Melqart’s temple at Gades (Cadiz) with two bronze pillars, each eight cubits high (Strabo, Geographica, 3.5.5–6). Yahweh’s temple also featured two bronze pillars.  The legendary 10th century BCE Hiram I is also credited with building several other temples to Melqart and with beginning the theology of egersis, also known as resurrection (Bonnet 2007).  The annual rituals of Melqart revolved around the god dying and being resuscitated with the help of Astarte.   According to Cicero and Philo of Byblos, Melqart was the son of Baal and Astarte, who was killed by Typhon.  Astarte brought the god back to life with the smell of roasted quails (Bonnet 2007).  Quails also featured in Jewish myth, as food given to the Israelites by Yahweh, during the Exodus.  Typhon also made an appearance in the quail story, as Yam, the god of the sea.  In Numbers 11:31, Yahweh brought the quails to the Israelites from the sea.  Quails are not a marine bird.  They are terrestrial and make their homes in grain fields.  The quails are just one of many examples of euhemerized myth, most likely derived from a story similar to Melqart’s resuscitation.

 The description of Yahweh’s temple is very detailed in the Old Testament; but, the Millo and Solomon’s palace are obscure. The Jerusalem temple’s architectural style, described in the Old Testament, does sound rather like Assyrian Iron Age buildings, with the winged cherubim lining the walls.  Assyrian monumental buildings featured winged, human headed bulls as wall d├ęcor.  However, Persian Period architecture had the same features.  The “brazen sea” of the Yahweh temple also sounds very Persian in style, mounted on twelve kneeling bulls.  Kneeling bulls played supporting roles in Persian art, such as the capitals of pillars, supporting roof beams.  It is quite possible that the temple description is from the Persian Period temple, not the Iron Age.  It could be that Darius (550-486 BCE) involved Tyrians in building the second temple. There was also Hiram III (551-532 BCE), who became king of Tyre under the Persians.  So, the description of Solomon’s building projects may have nothing to do with the Iron Age.

There is no archaeological evidence for human sacrifice in the Levant from Persian Period sites.  There are a few good reasons to think that child sacrifice was not common in the Jerusalem Temple during the Persian Period.  The city no longer had a king, so neither the Sacred Marriage rite nor sacrificing royal babies was possible.  The human sacrifice rite was strongly associated with kingship, which makes a ban on the practice in Jerusalem under the Persians logical.  The reasons given for human sacrifice in ancient texts were either in response to a plague or war, or in establishing a new city monarch.  Leviticus provided other methods for dealing with religious concerns. The concept of sin offerings was a way to deal with disease issues.  Performing human sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple to establish a monarchy would have been a declaration of revolt against the Persians. 

There is a possible reference to human sacrifice in the Jerusalem Temple during the Persian Period, found in Josephus.  Josephus picks up the history of the Jerusalem priests where the Bible leaves off, with the high priest Eliashib, and makes him a contemporary of Artaxerxes (464 BCE to 424 BCE.)  He has nothing to say about the next high priest, Judas, other than mentioning his name.  For the next high priest, John, Josephus has an interesting story.  He said that the Persian General, Bagoses, imposed taxes on the temple at this time (Josephus n.d., XI: VII).  Josephus’ estimation that the Jerusalem priesthood didn’t like the tax is no doubt correct.  But, his explanation of their reaction to it is intriguing.  He states that after the imposition of tax on the priests, the high priest, John, killed his brother, Jesus, in the temple.  The Persian General then clamped down on the temple and:

“…punished the Jews for seven years for the murder of Jesus.” (Josephus n.d., XI: VII)

The Persian military response to the death of Jesus looks very much like a response to a revolt, led by the high priest, John.  Given that human sacrifice was a known rationale for establishing a dynasty of kings, it looks like John killed Jesus to establish himself as king and lead a revolt.  It is also curious that Josephus wrote this story of John killing Jesus during the 1st century CE, at exactly the same time that early Christianity was forming.  Obviously, there were Jewish stories in circulation about a priest named John, a Jesus killed in Jerusalem, and a revolt over money changing hands in the temple.  This story creates a “chicken and egg” dilemma over how to interpret Josephus’ story, in relation to Christianity.

Worship of the boy-god Melqart of Tyre did continue to include child sacrifice through the Persian Period in Carthage, until the demise of the city, with the Roman destruction.  The legend of the foundation of Carthage included queen Dido sacrificing herself, burning on a pyre.  Use of the ritual actually increased over time at Carthage.  Although there is evidence of the ritual at other sites where Phoenicians colonized, Carthage stands out as the place with the greatest evidence, with hundreds of cinerary urns containing the remains of babies, often mixed with the remains of an animal sacrifice.  The small altar on which the babies were burned was also found at Carthage and a stele decorated with a priest carrying a live baby to the altar.  The only evidence of human sacrifice at Tyre in Phoenicia is from the earlier Iron Age; however, there is little archaeological evidence from the Persian Period in Tyre.  There is literary evidence of child sacrifice in Phoenicia coinciding with Alexander the Great’s invasion.  Since Tyre and Gaza were the only places which resisted Alexander, they were the most likely people to sacrifice some babies at the time.  The ritual was most often used during times of distress and the battles with Alexander were a stressful time. 

Outside of Carthage and the possible use of the ritual at the end of the Persian Period with Alexander, it appears that the use of human sacrifice within official cults decreased, replaced with less extreme rituals during the Persian Period.  The new rituals were better suited to the economic conditions of temples within the Persian Empire, because they provided income to the temples.  The Egyptian dummy mummies, the baby figurines of Sidon, and the sacrifice of lambs during Passover of Jerusalem, were all rituals that the priests sold to the general public.  The Sacred Marriage rite was also converted into temple prostitution, which provided income for the temples.  These are all examples of rituals which originated for political uses within king cults, converted into money making services in the capitalistic environment of the Persian Empire.

There is an early Hellenistic reference to Jews practicing human sacrifice, written sometime during the first few decades after the death of Alexander, by Hecateaus.  The quote remains only in the later reference by Diodorous.  There is some speculation that the quote was really written by a Jewish redactor of Hecateaus.  Either Hecateaus or a Jewish redactor believed Jews sometimes practiced human sacrifice.  Josephus’ story about Shelomit’s family was also derived from human sacrifice theology, as discussed in an earlier chapter.  Josephus also used this mythic formula of killing princes for a story about King Herod.  Josephus claimed that Herod killed his wife’s brother by drowning him in Jericho.  He also claimed that Herod strangled his own two sons in Sebaste, the biggest city in Samaria at the time (Josephus n.d., XVI:11).  All three boys were buried at Alexandraum, a fortress in Samaria.  The stories about Herod killing princes may be fiction; however, they demonstrate that myths about dead princes were in circulation in the 1st century CE.  They also indicate that there was some sort of cult site at Alexandraum dedicated to dead youths.  Herod also built a tower in honor of his wife, Miriamne.  So, there was a monument in Jerusalem during the 1st century CE which shared the same name as later given to the mother of Jesus.  There are several indications that Herod’s personal religious beliefs owed more to the age old religion of Palestine than to the reformed Judaism of the Jerusalem Temple.  Herod was particularly dedicated to Apollo and there was a legend that his father was a temple slave of Apollo in Ashkelon (Jacobson 2001).  Apollo was identified with Qos, the primary deity of the Idumeans (Edomites) and he was also the old Resheph of the Canaanites.  The overall picture of the 1st century CE is that most Palestinians held religious views more similar to the rest of the Levant than to the minority group of Pharisees, who later defined Rabbinic Judaism.

Isaiah is a fascinating Old Testament book, because it shows how the old mythology of Bronze Age Ugarit evolved with the Iron Age practice of human sacrifice into the savior theology.  The book is confusing, because of interpolations of historical events, told as prophecy.  Past wars and the political vicissitudes of Jerusalem are told as if they were foretold by Isaiah.  But, the base outline of the story is instructions for creating a savior with child sacrifice.  Isaiah means "Yahweh has saved" and the central theme of the book is savior theology.  The triad of deities of savior mythology is in Isaiah, including the Storm God, Astarte, and the divine child judge.  There are references to the same myths as found in the Ugarit tales.  The Storm God battles the Leviathan, like Baal battled the Leviathan (Isaiah 27:1).  Anat mourning for her dead brother is also in Isaiah.  She is called Ariel, which means lioness of Yahweh (Isaiah 29:1).  The lioness was a very common symbol of the goddess.  In Isaiah, she represents the city of Jerusalem.  Then, there is the child, Immanuel, who will be the savior (Isaiah 7:14, 8:8).  The human sacrifice ritual for creating a savior is also in Isaiah. 

The creation of the savior begins when the prophet entered the smoke filled temple and was given a live coal from the altar by an angel (Isaiah 6:6).  This puts him in a drug induced state, which allows him to prophecy and become an agent of the god.  He has sex with a prophetess and they produce the child (Isaiah 8:3).  Isaiah tells all the wonderful things which will happen, when the boy becomes the supernatural judge.  But first, he tells about all the terrible wars and about the defilement of Jerusalem.  Then he says:

For Tophet is ordained of old; yea, for the king it is prepared; he hath made it deep and large: the pile thereof is fire and much wood; the breath of the LORD, like a stream of brimstone, doth kindle it.” (Isaiah 30: 33)

It is the ordeal of the Tophet which will allow the spirit of the Lord to be poured upon them from on high.  It is only after the verse about the Tophet, that good things start to happen.  The child must be sacrificed to turn him into a savior.

Much of the mythology and ritual of Isaiah is reminiscent of the Ugarit tale of Danel and the agricultural year described in the Baal cycle.  But, it is the Iron Age invention of the Tophet ritual which changed the story from a simple myth of the agricultural year, into a linear notion of a savior god.  The old Bronze Age myths of the death and return of Baal and Dumuzi simply reflected the death and rebirth cycle of agriculture.  In Egypt, the Osiris/Horus myth built on that agricultural cycle to provide an afterlife concept.  But, it was the Phoenician/Palestinian practice of human sacrifice which was the basis for creating a new god as a resurrected savior.

One of the counter-arguments used by Christian apologists against the notion that the Jesus myth was derived from Adonis, Attis, Osiris, et al, is that they don’t believe that those gods were considered saviors until the 3rd Century CE, after Christianity had already developed.  Yet, Isaiah provides ample evidence that the savior boy, Immanuel, was derived from the Tophet practice of human sacrifice.  Christians themselves use Isaiah as the prophecy foretelling Jesus.  Adonis, Attis, Yahweh, Melqart, etc. were all based on the human sacrifice rites, which began during the early Iron Age.  All of the literary and archaeological evidence about human sacrifice rites indicates that it was meant for providing a savior.  It was preformed when founding a city, during times of epidemics, and in times of war.  The sacrificial victim was meant to become a supernatural caretaker, i.e. a savior.

However, there is another prophetic book of the Old Testament corpus which outright refutes Isaiah.  Whereas Isaiah looks for a savior to be produced using human sacrifice, Jeremiah condemns the practice.  Jeremiah claims that the Tophet was not Yahweh’s idea; but, a foreign practice.  The book claims that Yahweh wants a new covenant with his people, based on following his law:

“But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel; After those days, saith the LORD, I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people.” (Jeremiah 31:33)

It was this difference of opinion that caused a division in Palestinian religion.  Some people followed Judaism and the Law, and others continued to hope for a savior.  It was the cult of the dead child which became Christianity.  The first Palestinian Christians were extremely anti-Jewish.  Their hatred of the Jerusalem priesthood is loud and clear, throughout the New Testament.  They resented the reforms made to their religion by the Jerusalem priesthood.  They wanted that ole time religion of sex, drugs, and human sacrifice.

Every aspect of the Jesus myth was part of Phoenician child sacrifice theology.  The child was resurrected to join the divine realm.  His character was as a divine judge and healer.  And someday, he would return to be king, like the hostage boys sent to Egypt.  His father was a god, a conflation of the storm god or the sun god.  He also had an adoptive carpenter father in Kothar wa Hasis.  He was loved by a goddess, who was sometimes a virgin, sometimes a prostitute, and sometimes a man.  His star story incorporated the life cycle of Dumuzi and the Storm God.  Jesus was like all of the savior gods which originated in Syria-Palestine.  But, he was most closely modeled on Yahweh, the boy-god who originated at a Tophet in Samaria.  Christians today have no right to be critical of the horrid rituals of ancient Canaanite-Phoenician religion, because they believe in exactly the same thing as the ancient Palestinian creators of their faith.  The central tenet of Christianity is that Jesus died for your sins.  It really is the most evil of religious beliefs, which resulted in the deaths of many children.