The spiritual danger which E. was called to avert arose out of a political alliance formed between Israel and Phoenicia, and cemented by the marriage of Ahab and Jezebel, the son and the daughter of the allied kings. A covenant between two Semitic peoples was always supposed to imply a friendship between their gods. Its natural sequel was a syncretism of faith an'' worship. "That Ahab did not at first think of denying J" is proved by the names he gave his sons — Ahaziah (J" holds) and Jehoram (J"is high). But his religious instincts were aa dull as his political instincts were keen. Brave enough in battle, and on the whole a successful ruler, he was morally weak, and came completely under the h.incful influence of his strong-minded Tyri.in wife, a fanatic in her own faith. It was to pUa.se her that he not only erected a temple to Baal at Samaria (1 K 10'-) and introduced a multitude of foreign priests (IS'"), but allowed a religious per- secution, in which many of the prophets of J" are said to have been slain (IS*"). The effect of these events on the religious life of Israel could not be small. The people hod hitherto been ensnared only by the gods of the hostile tribes of Caaoar
688
ELIJAH
KLIJAH
Thorn they had subdued. They were now tempted to adopt the cultus of a great allied nation, and the temptation proved too stron" to be resisted. Baal-worship became the court religion, and, if its progress had not been effectually checked, would soon have become the national religion.
To prevent this disastrous consummation is E.'s life-task. His fiery zeal against the Tyrian cultus springs from moral at least as much as religious considerations. That superstition had such accom- paniments as would soon sap the moral vijjour of any nation. A patriot as well as a prophet, E. comes to save his country. His ruling passion is jealousy for the Lord God of hosts (1 K 19'°). He knows the God of Israel as a moral and spiritual being, and all his demands on behalf of J" are moral and spiritual. The details of ritual do not trammel a man of his spiritual force. He knows nothing of the Deutcronomic law wLich condemns local altars (1 K 18'-). It is not recorded that he ever visits Jerusalem. But Gilgal, Bethel, Carmel, and otlier ancient sanctuaries of tlie true religion, are dear to him. Sinai is, from its associations, the holiest ground. He believes in a covenant in virtue of which J" became the God of Israel, and Israel the people of J". And the conviction is burned into his mind that there can be no alliance between the God of Israel and any other divinity. His jealousy for J" is tlie counter- part of J"'s jealousy for Israel. It is to E. an intuitive truth that J" can brook no rival in His kingdom, and he is amazed that any can doubt it : his spirit blazes with contempt against all ' weak- kneed ' persons (1 K 18") who hSt between two opinions.
It is contended by some critics (Wellhausen, Stade, etc.) that E. was not a monotheist, like Amos, Hosea, and the other literary prophets : that he was like the mass of the people of his time in regarding J" as only the God of Israel — a local god — and believing that every other nation had us own deity. It is affirmed that E. was a * heno- iheist.' Now, it is sufficiently clear that the faith ot many of his contemporaries is of this rudiment- ary order : the contest between J" and Baal is to fhem a real struggle between rival deities. But E.'s lofty conception of J" virtually excludes all other objects of worship — makes all the gods idols. It is difficult to believe that the Baal whom he treats with such irony and contempt (I K 18-'') has to his mind any reality. At any rate, it is but a short step from E.'s 'henotheism' to absolute monotheism.
The memoirs of E. seem to be derived from several sources. The narratives in 1 K 17-19. 21, 2 K 2, form a unity. They took shape in Northern Israel, as is indicated by the remark that Beersheba •belongeth to Judah' (1 K 19^). They were prob- ably written under the influence of the literary prophets of the Northern Kingdom, about the beginning of the 7th cent. B.C. These narratives are composed in the highest style of literary art. Their distinctly popular character is apparent, and it has been noted by W. R. Smith that they read like a transcript of a vivid oral tradition (Prophets of I^ael, 116). Like other historical parts of the OT, they may have lived in the mouths of the people for generations, forming a powerful means of religious education, before they were committed to writing.
E. comes on the stage of history with the same startling abruptne.ss with which he makes his first appearance before Ahab. He is sent to announce that J' is about to avenge the apos- tasy of Israel by bringing a long drought on the land. This message delivered, he vanishes into solitude. He is guided by the Spirit of J" to the brook Cherith 'that is before,' i.e. to the east of.
' Jordan ' (1 K 17'), probably in his native Gilead. See Cherith. There his life is miraculouslj sustained by ravens, which bring him flesh every morning and evening (w.''"'). Prosaic critics have tried to eliminate the marvellous element from tha story. They call attention to the fact that the word D'3iy, which is so pointed in the MT as to mean ' ravens,' signifies with another set of vowel- points ' Arabs,' with another ' merchants,' or ' in- habitants of Oreb.' But, not to emphasize the fact that ravens eat flesh, which Arabs generally avoid, it is to be noted that the marvellous element is quite in keeping with other parts of E.'s story. In the oral tradition the prophet's friends were doubtless 'ravens': the narrative would not have been thouglit worth preserving but for the miraculous feature, which is reproduced in all the ancient versions.