Laboratoire d'études sur les monothéismes - UMR 8584

There was not one rite of nazir but two! The one well-known is the vow pronounced in order to have a divine profit. It was elaborated with ancient elements (the prohibitions) by a priestly elite at the persian period. This vow didn’t know any evolution at the hellenistic period and at the roman period. The other nazir is more problematic. The biblical texts, referring to it, have been mostly changed as time goes on, losing somewhat its meaning. This is the most surprising aspect of the subject because, with it, we go back to the ancient periods of the “Israelites’ yahwism”. Before becoming a survival in the states progressively established in the northern kingdom then in the southern, it was probably a rite for the young men under the aegis of a god warrior (Yahweh).

If we bring attention to certain difficulties presented in 1 Samuel rather than circumvent them through synchronic approaches, we identify indices which can allow us to go back to a legend of Saul. The beginning of this legend is not 1 Samuel 9-10 but 1 Samuel 1 where the name of the child could be Saul. The proto-cycle of the king doesn't differ from the Ark narrative because this famous tale is in fact an aspect of the legend. In this legend, Saul was a nazir who took the Ark of Shiloh (1 S 4) at Gibeah (1 S 7, 1) to defeat the Philistines (1 S 13-14).

Lv 17 (H) argues against demonic rituals with violence while Lv 16 (Ps) has a ritual of this kind in its legislation : the goat for Azazel. The festival calendar of Lv 23 (H) does not mention this special rite unlike Nb 28-29 (Ps). We have every reason to believe that the “theology” of blood in Lv 17 had not done with these cults, so the priests had to integrate in their purification’s ritual a sacrifice to the demon Azazel. How can we understand otherwise the existence of such an apotropaic sacrifice in the cult of Yhwh ? The fact that H is unaware of the goat for Azazel – as well as its sacrificial system, nearer to D than P – goes against the new thesis of a redactor H subsequent to Ps.

Le sacrifice de réparation du lépreux fait difficulté pour sa place dans l’ordre des sacrifices offerts et pour l’usage du sang qui en est fait. Or, si l’on voit le lépreux non comme un simple impur mais comme la victime d’une malédiction divine, la prééminence de ce sacrifice s’explique par l’“urgence” de dédommager Yhwh. Quant au sang, il aurait un rôle prophylactique, différent de la fonction apotropaïque encore présente avec le sacrifice de purification. Il en résulte que ’âšâm et hattâ’t sont deux sacrifices “expiatoires” très distincts.

The “religion” of Mithra was a Mystery cult and an oriental religion in the Roman Empire, but the god and his cult remain much of an enigma today. The analysis of the worship rite itself – the non-sacrificial ritual meal – and of the central iconography – the tauroctony – throws into light some chtonic aspects related to the “psychopompos” function of the god. Moreover, a close study of the emperor Julian’s texts leads to the explicit conclusion that this function had been enriched with neoplatonic theurgic beliefs on the one hand, and on the other hand that the mithraic initiation led to the revelation of Sol as the main god. This had probably taken place as early as the 3rd century A. D. within the emperor’s Roman Religion.

Translating the term tôdâh is not an easy task and the rites which it designates seem to be too contrasting to give the right meaning of it. If the sacrifice and the praise are bound to the practice of vows as act of gratefulness, then the notion of exaltation permits the understanding of why this term is used for the confession of a fault. This meaning would result from a figurative sense of the verb yâdâh: to cast words.

The Ugaritic, Hebraic and punic sacrifices šlm(y)m have been translated in various ways but none of them is very clear: sacrifice of "communion", of "peace" and recently of "well-being". Unlike the term zbḥ, šlm does not indicate originally the mode of immolation but the function of the sacrifice. The link with the divine it implies, is connected to the foundation of the cult itself when it is not an expiatory cult. This "positive" whorship falls within the field of votive devotion based on the classical do ut des when the humans are in contact with the gods. The etymology of šlm as well as the use of the verb of the same "root" in the practice of vows, allows us to propose the translation "sacrifice of accomplishment".

The translation of the verb pālā’, in a votive context, is problematic in modern versions like in ancient versions. Three possibilities exist : “to accomplish/fulfil a vow”, “to make an explicit vow” and “to make a special vow”. If we retain the meaning of pl’, it’s the third solution that we have to choose because the vow contains the idea of miracle like this root. We add that the verb appears in the context of the formulation of a vow and not in the context of fulfilment. “To make a special vow” because of the importance of those vows : they are costly. There were many sacrifices which accompanied the Nazirite vow, and the votive offerings of Lev 27 were not common. Moreover, it was used for a sacrifice offered during the pronunciation.

To sum up, before ‘Israelite-Judean’ culture splitted up in two separate religious identities –Samaritan and Judaic – and before it produced, on the basis of various materials, the textual complex that we now call the Hebrew Bible – before that event, the lion, brave animal par excellence (Pro 30,30), was associated with the ‘warrior function’ represented by heroic giants. These giants are not to be confused with young warriors (bahûrîm) that use tricks to win in battle , as did Ehud in Judges 3. Instead, these giants were great warriors (gibbôrîm) capable of defeating any opponent with their mighty power. If we consider the two lists placed at the end of 2 Samuel, certain allusions involving Shamgar and the Samson narratives, the exploits of these warriors can be classified into three main categories:
1. Battle against a giant (Rephaim, Ariel?): 2 Sam 21,15-22 [1 Sam 17] ; 2 Sam 23,20 (?).21.
2. A single-handed combat against an army (‘Philistines’): Jdg 3,31 ; Jdg 15,9-19 ; 2 Sam 23,8-12.18.
3. A fight against an adult lion or some kind of a divine being (Ariel?): Jdg 14 ; 2 Sam 23,20.

Si l’A. regrette avec raison qu’on accorde trop peu d’importance aux offrandes végétales et surtout aux libations, on ne comprend pas alors pourquoi les mêmes auteurs et Kathryn McClymond elle-même traitent du sujet sans jamais véritablement intégrer le sacrifice humain dans leurs études : le sacrifice animal n’est pas distinct par nature du sacrifice humain. La violence du sacrifice ne s’explique pas que par la théorie plus apologétique qu’anthropologique de Girard, c’est-à-dire par une canalisation de la violence des hommes, elle peut aussi plus simplement refléter dans le religieux les rapports de domination s’accentuant dans une société (Testart, Des dons et des dieux).

Au niveau qui est le nôtre, c’est-à-dire philologique, la théorie de Bohas et les travaux de Dat sur l’hébreu peuvent nous aider à mener des recherches étymologiques bien plus satisfaisantes qu’elles ne le sont avec le pauvre outil de la racine, qui ne nous permet de faire que quelques comparaisons, bien souvent stériles, entre quelques langues. Son aspect totalisant est un gage de scientificité, les deux auteurs ayant à cœur de comprendre un système, ce qu’aucun sémitisant ne devrait contester puisque le modèle de la racine suppose une organisation systémique des langues sémitiques. Nous estimons que l’historien-philologue devrait penser cette théorie comme une chance pour ses recherches lexicales et étymologiques et ne pas être freiné par ce qui relève des disciplines linguistiques (matrices, mimophonie) qu’il n’est peut-être pas en mesure d’apprécier dans son ampleur et à sa juste valeur.

The most archaic heroic characters of the Hebraic texts are figures of great warriors (gibbôr) and thus accomplished heroes. However, by the scale of his tale, Samson embodies partially the young hero. The fact that he was considered as nāzîr and as bāhûr, at a moment of the editorial history of Judges 13-16, highlighted his youth as well as his cunning temper of a young warrior. Actually, in the narratives of Judges 3 and 20, we can find figures of Benjaminite young warriors (bahûrîm) who are more surprising than David’s, the young literary hero in 1Samuel 17. These left-handed warriors seemed to be an elite intended to become strong men, illustrating a warlike function well established in the “Israélito-Judahite” culture. This culture could have initiatory rites of passage of a young warrior into a great one.

The Hebrew noun mērēa‘ is not isolated. Saul M. Olyan connects it with the verbs r‘h and, more speculatively, with a rare meaning of r‘‘. His suggestion is correct because the meaning of “companion” is figurative in the context of the development of the biconsonantal root r‘. Following the theory of the French linguist Georges Bohas, I propose to understand this development with the concepts of “etymon” and “matrix”.

Depuis l’étude fameuse de Rost, le « récit de l’Arche » est devenu une unité narrative indépendante dans le premier livre de Samuel. Les travaux successifs ont toutefois peu à peu ruiné la cohérence de cette unité en lui enlevant son aboutissement avec David à Jérusalem (2 S 6) et même en la faisant commencer dès 1 S 2. S’il apparaît opportun de faire débuter le récit avant 1 S 4, pour garder le contexte de Shilo et du prêtre Éli, on peut alors tenter de le faire dès 1 S 1. Pour cela, il importe de lire le récit de naissance de ce premier chapitre non comme étant celui de Samuel mais comme celui de Saül. En effet, les indices littéraires de ce texte montrent que le nom « Samuel » ne correspond pas au contexte narratif. Or, comme Samuel est totalement absent du « récit de l’Arche », on peut dès lors proposer une lecture des premiers chapitres sans ce personnage, pas en délimitant des unités narratives indépendantes mais en recherchant une strate rédactionnelle ancienne. De cette manière, ce « récit de l’Arche » devient bien plus un « récit d’accession au pouvoir de Saül », récit qui nous mène de Shilo (1 S 1 ; 4) à Gibea (1 S 7,1 ; 10 ; 14), en passant par Rama et son voyant anonyme (1 S 9).

La pleine compréhension de l’origine des royaumes de cette région ne pourra se faire que sur un plan double : un premier-plan où l’on puisse voir le contexte historique conjoncturel et un arrière-plan mettant en évidence une connaissance anthropologique structurelle. Il est plus que nécessaire pour les historiens de l’Antiquité d’intégrer le questionnement et les concepts des anthropologues tant leur documentation est fragmentaire et tant les sociétés qu’ils tentent de comprendre sont lointaines, tant dans le temps que dans l’espace.

Même si le processus grec de l’héroïsation était spécifique et complexe et que la conception sémitique des géants n’a que d’apparentes similarités avec les mythes gigantomachiques grecs, on trouve de nombreuses analogies entre les divers héros d’où qu’ils soient. Cependant, dès qu’il s’agit des personnages bibliques, la notion de héros perd de sa consistance pour englober des personnages si emprunts de théologie qu’ils ne se caractérisent aucunement par un quelconque exploit basé sur leur propre puissance . Il y a donc un certain brouillage des caractéristiques du héros lorsque l’on appréhende les textes bibliques. Même lorsque celui-ci correspond bien à la notion grecque du héros épique par la nature de ses exploits, le personnage ne parvient pas à s’extraire des lectures exégétiques traditionnelles.

Cette hypothèse d’un dieu dissimulé peut mieux rendre compte de l’évolution de la religion romaine des empereurs, parce qu’elle s’accorde avec des impératifs politiques de romanité – détrôner Jupiter, c’est détrôner Rome – et avec un contexte philosophique et religieux nouveau représenté notamment par le néoplatonisme . Il ne fallait pas que Sol vienne de l’extérieur comme avec Élagabal, mais de l’intérieur par l’intermédiaire de Mithra et de ses mystères devenus romains.

The debate about the short version (LXXB) and the long version (MT) of 1 Samuel 17–18 has never been resolved. It can however be resolved by taking into account the Jewish Antiquities by Flavius Josephus as evidence like any other textual version: LXXB would be a corrupted version for 1 Sam 17,12–32 and the MT, an expansive version for the following passages (17,41 – 18,30). Literary criticism of 1 Samuel 16–19 helps us understand why there are two versions of the text and how the stories of David have been developed. The Greek translator was confronted with a problem of narrative coherence, since David is presented twice to King Saul. He wanted to restore consistency by removing the second presentation of David to Saul. This solution seemed more logical to him as the “second David” appears as a repetition if you read the text linearly. Literary criticism, applied to the first book of Samuel and conducted in the manner of an archaeological dig, shows the accumulation of editorial strata, like archaeological strata within a mound. It is thus possible to envision how the legend of the young shepherd (1 Sam 17) was developed from the heroic exploits of Elhanan (2 Sam 21,19) to be linked up with the old legend of Saul – combined with the “Ark Narrative” –, and how the tradition of the musician David – comparable to the tradition of the wisdom of Solomon – was inserted between the two (1 Sam 16,14¬-23). The whole “legend of Saul and David” was finally framed by deuteronomistic editing that also introduced the multifaceted character of Samuel at every level of the overall story, for instance in 1 Sam 16, 1–13. After becoming the king of a historically idealised kingdom formed by Israel in the north and by Judah in the south, David became the messianic king of a utopian Israel completely centred on Judea.