Part VIII

The sense of guilt as expressed in the penitential laments leads naturally to the problem as to the cause of suffering in this world endured by those who are not conscious of any wrong-doing. We have seen how the penitent himself confesses at times that he does not know what deity he has offended, which implies that he also does not know wherein his guilt consists.

The impossibility of fathoming the ways of the gods is suggested in the frequent outburst of despair

"how long, how long yet, O lord,"

introduced at times like a refrain in the appeal for forgiveness and release, as well as in such utterances that no one really has certain knowledge

"no one has understanding." ^[1]

This thought carried further leads to a doubt whether the gods have the same standards as prevail in human society. At least the question is raised, and in the face of the fact, too evident to be concealed, that the wicked often flourish in this world, whereas those who lead blameless lives are weighed down with sickness, distress, and misfortune of all kinds, there must have been many a thinker who struggled with the problem that lies at the basis of the Biblical Book of Job the reason for the existence of evil in a world controlled by powers who are supposed to be kindly disposed.

The pious Babylonian had an answer ready at hand. The gods were kind and gracious as long as one did not offend them, but there were the demons lurking everywhere, ready to pounce on their victims unawares particularly the demons of the various diseases that destroy one 's vitality.

But the further question would still arise why do the gods, superior to the demons, allow the latter to maim at will and strike the guilty and guiltless alike, and why are those whose wickedness is apparent permitted to escape ?

The tragedy of life, with its woes and hardships, and the impossibility of penetrating the mysteries of the universe, are brought out with considerable force in a composition, Babylonian in origin, which has come down to us in several fragments from the library of Ashurbanapal and from the literary section of the temple at Sippar. ^[2]

The poem, for such it is, is in the form of a lament of an individual Tabi-utul-Enlil, whose home is Nippur and who appears to have been a ruler in that place. ^[3] 

He speaks of himself as obedient to the gods, concerned for his salvation, careful in his doings, and yet, despite all this, he has been smitten with painful disease affecting every part of his body, for which he can find no relief, and the cause of which he has been unable to ascertain. He is not conscious of guilt, and the priests to whom he applied offered neither help nor consolation.

The story is made the occasion of philosophical reflections on the fate of man, on his helplessness in suffering and his weakness in combating the ills to which human flesh is heir. These reflections constitute the value of the composition, and give it an exceptional place amorig the productions of Babylonian literature.

Unfortunately it is only preserved in part. It consisted of four tablets of approximately 120 lines each, but of the total only about one-third are preserved and many of these lines are imperfect.

Fortunately, by a careful study it is possible to follow the general course of the composition. The preserved portions, moreover, include two passages which belong to the finest specimen of Babylonian literature, noteworthy both in thought and in eloquent diction.

In the first tablet, ^[4]  beginning with the praise of "lord of wisdom" originally no doubt Enlil of Nippur, but transferred in the course of further redaction to Marduk, the head of the later Babylonian pantheon, we have a description of the evil that has overwhelmed Tabi-utul-Enlil which reads, so far as preserved, as follows: ^[5]

"(My eyeballs he obscured, bolting them as with) a lock
(My ears he bolted) , like those of a deaf person.
A king I have been changed into a slave,
As a madman (my) companions maltreat me.
Send me help from the pit dug (for me) !
At the cry of my lament, open a hole for him (?), ^[6]
By day deep sighs, at night weeping,
The month cries, the year distress."

The second tablet opens with a reflection on the sadness of life's experiences and the difficulty of penetrating the ways of the gods to ascertain how to please them ; and as in the case of Job, the reflections are interspersed with laments about his own forlorn condition.

"I had reached and passed the allotted time of life;
Whithersoever I turned evil upon evil.
Misery had increased, justice was gone,
I cried to my god, but he did not show me his countenance;
I prayed to my goddess, but she did not raise her head.
The diviner-priest could not determine the future by an inspection,
The necromancer did not through an offering justify my suit,
The zakiku-priest ^[7]  I appealed to, but he revealed nothing,
The chief exerciser did not by (his) rites release me from the ban.
The like of this had never been seen;
Whithersoever I turned, trouble was in pursuit."

His punishment seems inexplicable to him, as he proceeds to set forth how he always endeavored to perform his duties towards the gods and men punctiliously.

"As though I had not always set aside the portion for the god, ^[8]
And had not invoked the goddess at the meal,
Had not bowed my face, and brought my tribute,
As though I were one in whose mouth supplication and prayer were not constant,
Who had set aside the day of the god, 178 neglected the new-moon festival,
Been negligent, spurned their images,
Not taught his people fear and reverence,
Not invoked his god, eaten of his (sc. the god's) food; ^[9]
Neglected his goddess, and did not offer to her a libation.
With the oppressor who has forgotten his lord,
Who has profaned the sacred name of his god, am I rated.
(Whereas) I thought only of supplication and prayer;
Prayer was my practice, sacrificing my law,
The day of worship of the gods the joy of my heart,
The day of devotion to the goddess more (to me) than riches;
Royal prayer, that was my joy;
Its celebration, my delight.
I taught my country to guard the name of the god,
To honor the name of the goddess I accustomed my people.
The glorification of the king I made like unto that of a god, ^[10]
And in the fear of the palace I instructed the people.
I thought that such things were pleasing to a god."

Despite all this, the pious ruler was smitten with disease and accordingly he indulges in the gloomy thought that the ways of the gods are mysterious. One can never be certain of pleasing them. The fate of man is uncertain. Joy changes to grief suddenly, and apparently without cause or reason.

"What, however, seems good to oneself, to a god is displeasing,
What is spurned by oneself finds favor with a god;
Who is there that can grasp the will of the gods in heaven?
The plan of a god full of mystery (?) who can understand it?
How can mortals learn the way of a god?
He who was alive yesterday is dead to-day;
In an instant he is cast into grief, of a sudden he is crushed;
For a moment he sings and plays,
In a twinkling he wails like a mourner.
Like opening and closing, ^[11]  their (sc. mankind's) spirit changes;
If they are hungry they are like a corpse,
Have they had enough, they consider themselves equal to their god;
If things go well, they prate of mounting to heaven,
If they are in distress, they speak of descending into Irkalla." ^[12]

The sufferer reverts to his sufferings and describes how the demons of disease have laid him low.

"An evil demon has come out of his (lair);
From yellowish, the sickness became white. ^[13] 
It ^[14] struck my neck and crushed my back,
It bent my high stature like a poplar;
Like a plant of the marsh, I was uprooted, thrown on my back.
Food became bitter and putrid,
The malady dragged on its course.
Though without food, hunger diminished ( ?) ;
The sap of my blood (he ^[15] drained).
Nourishment was withheld . . .
My flesh was wasted, my body grew wan.
I took to my bed, unable to leave the couch.
The house became my prison ;
As fetters for my body, my hands were powerless,
As pinions for my person, my feet were stretched out,
My discomfiture was painful, the pain severe.
A strap of many twists has struck me,
A sharply-pointed spear pierced me.
All day the pursuer followed me,
At night he granted me no respite whatever,
As though wrenched, my joints were torn apart,
My limbs were shattered and rendered helpless.
In my stall I passed the night like an ox,
I was saturated like a sheep in my excrements;
The disease of my joints baffled the chief exerciser,
And my omens were obscure to the diviner,
The exerciser could not interpret the character of my disease,
And the limit of my malady the diviner could not fix.
No god came to my aid, taking me by the hand,
No goddess had compassion for me, coming to my side.
The grave was open, my burial prepared,
Though not yet dead, the lamentation was over.
The people of my land had already said 'alas' over me. ^[16]
My enemy heard it and his face shone;
As the joyful tidings were announced to him his liver rejoiced,
I knew it was the day when my whole family,
Resting under the protection of their deity would be in distress." ^[17]

The sufferer, paralyzed, bed-ridden, totally helpless, blind, deaf, unable to take food, racked with unceasing pain, was thus brought to the brink of despair. ^[18]  All hope had fled and his friends and family already mourned him as dead.

The third tablet beginning

"His hand is heavy, I can no longer endure it," ^[19]

evidently continued the plaint but soon passed on to an account of a dream sent to the sufferer in which Ur-Bau, described as "a strong hero decked with a crown" appears and apparently gives him a reassuring message from Marduk ^[20]  that he will be released from his sufferings. It is to be regretted that this portion of the composition is so badly preserved, for it must have contained the reason why Marduk decided to come to the relief of the pious sufferer.

We are left to conjecture why, but it is plausible to assume that Marduk is seized with pity and recognizes that Tabi-utul-Enlil did not merit the punishment sent to him. Perhaps it was even suggested that the sufferings were sent as a trial of his piety, though this in default of direct evidence must not be regarded as more than a conjecture. At all events, Tabi-utul-Enlil is healed, and we are given a vivid picture of how, as a result of his final appeal to Marduk, the demons of disease are driven away by a mighty storm.

". . . . .
He sent a mighty storm to the foundation of heaven,
To the depths of the earth he drove it.
He drove back the evil demon into the abyss. ^[21]
The nameless Utukku he drove into his mountain house. ^[22]
He confounded Labartu, ^[23] forcing him back into the mountain.
On the tide of the sea he swept away the ague. ^[24]
He tore out the root of my disease like a plant.
The bad sleep, ^[25] (disturbing?) my rest, filled and darkening the heavens as with smoke.
The aches and groans like (those of) a lion (?),
He stirred up as in a storm and filled the earth,
The violent headache ^[26] which overthrows (the strong [ t] ),
He tore out . . . and bathed me with the dew of the night.
My eyeballs which were covered with a veil of night, ^[27]
Through a mighty wind he drove away (sc. the veil) and made them shine brilliantly.
My ears which had been closed and bolted as those of a deaf person,
He removed their deafness and opened their hearing.
My nose which through the force of the fever was choked up,
He healed the hurt so that I could breathe again.
My lips which had been closed through exhausted strength, ^[28]
He reduced their swelling (?) and loosened their bonds.
My mouth which had been covered, so that with difficulty (?) (I uttered sounds),
He purified, like copper he made it shine.
My teeth which had been seized so that they were (pressed) together, ^[29]
He opened a space between them and strengthened their base. ^[30]
The tongue which was swollen so that I could not move it,
He took away its coating (?) so that speech returned.
The throat which was compressed, closed up like that of a corpse,
He healed so that my breast resounded like a flute.
My spittle which had been shut off so that it could not come forth, ^[31]
He loosened the bonds, opening them like a door.
. . . . .
To the opulent ^[32] who had been reduced to starvation, enchained like a guilty one,
He brought food and provided drink.
My neck which had been twisted and bent low,
He made erect and like a cedar raised up.
He made my stature like one of perfect strength,
Like one released from a demon, he polished my nails.
He cured me of scurvy, healed me of the itch (?).
My knees that had been fettered like those of a bird of the gorge, ^[33]
. . . . .
My entire body he restored,
He wiped away the blemish, making it ^[34] resplendent,
The oppressed stature regained its splendor,
On the banks of the stream where judgment is held over men ^[35]
The brand of slavery was removed, the fetters taken off."

Thus one trace after the other of the complicated series of diseases from which he was suffering was removed till he was entirely restored to his former vigor. The composition closes with the enforcement of the lesson never to despair of divine help.

"Let him who sins against E-sagila, ^[36] let him learn from me,
Into the jaw of the lion, about to devour me, Marduk inserted a bit.
Marduk has seized the snare (?) of my pursuer, has encompassed his lair."

In this strain no doubt the poem continued to the close in illustration of the lesson to be derived from Tabi-utul-Enlil's terrible yet marvellous experience. Like the Biblical poem, detailing Job's sufferings and the discourse of the problem involved, our composition ends in a kind of non sequitur. The problem is not solved, at least not to our satisfaction, for the just and innocent continue to suffer. The consolation, however, remains that the mercy of the gods in the end never fails.

Even though one may be already in the jaws of death, a god if he be so inclined as was Marduk or as was Enlil, the god of Nippur, in the original form of the story, can still save one. Though diviners and exorcisers fail, Marduk can intervene directly and restore the wasted body to perfect vigor. So all ends happily at least for Tabi-utul-Enlil.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Above, p. 473.

[2]:

The popularity of this valuable composition is indicated by portions of no less than three copies that we have of the text among the fragments of Ashurbanapal 's library published, Eawlinson, IV (2d ed.), PL 60, as well as a commentary to the text, Bawlinson, V, PI. 47, explaining certain terms and phrases. Two fragments were also found at Sippar for the publication of which, as well as for further details, see Jastrow, ' ' A Babylonian Parallel to Story of Job" (Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol. XXV, pp. 135-191) ; Martin, "Le Juste Souffrant Babylonien" (Journal Asiatique, July-August, 1910) and Landersdorffer, Sine Babylonische Quelle fur das Buck Hiobt (Freiburg, 1911).

[3]:

The name signifies "good is the loin (i.e., protection) of Enlil".

[4]:

Only 10 intelligible lines of the first tablet are preserved through the commentary (V. Rawlinson, PI. 47, to which we can add as an eleventh the opening line "I will praise the lord of wisdom", derived from the colophon to a copy of a portion of the 2nd tablet.

[5]:

Conjectural restrictions of the text are placed in parentheses.

[6]:

Meaning "himself".

[7]:

An oracle priest.

[8]:

i.e., the festival.

[9]:

Tabooed food.

[10]:

Note the characteristically Babylonian view of the king as demanding homage, only second to that accorded to the gods.

[11]:

Explained in the commentary "like day and night".

[12]:

One of the names of the nether world. See above, p. 454.

[13]:

The color of his skin at first yellow becomes pale.

[14]:

i.e., the sickness.

[15]:

i.e., the demon of disease.

[16]:

As over a dead person.
 

[17]:

Two obscure lines, the general sense of which is that he felt the end to be near.

[18]:

He is suffering from a variety of diseases in fact from almost every ill that can affect a human being.

[19]:

Furnished by the colophon of the 2d tablet.

[20]:

Originally, no doubt, Enlil again.

[21]:

Apsu here perhaps intended as a designation of the depths of the earth whence the demons rise up.

[22]:

Literally "his E-Kur" here a designation of the dwellingplace of the demons in the mountains.

[23]:

On the demons Utukku and Labartu see above, p. 242.

[24]:

Shuruppu "chills and fever" here personified, as were all diseases.

[25]:

i.e., the nightmare, also personified as a demon.

[26]:

Again personified as in the medical texts. See above, p. 250, teq.

[27]:

Cataract is meant.

[28]:

He was no longer able to open his mouth.

[29]:

The teeth were pressed together as in lockjaw.

[30]:

i.e., fixed them firm in their sockets.

[31]:

Like Job he was unable to swallow or spit out the saliva.

[32]:

Though a king with all things at his command, he is wasted like one dying of famine, since he could not eat nor drink.

[33]:

i.e., he could not walk.

[34]:

i.e., the body.

[35]:

Referring to a ceremony of cleansing from sin by immersion into a stream.

[36]:

The name of Marduk's temple at Babylon, here used for the god.