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How a Dead Man's Stone Image Became a God

Ninus carved his dead father Bel in stone. Prayers to the statue earned royal pardon. That is how idol worship spread across the world.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. A King Who Could Not Bury His Father
  2. The Statue That Forgave
  3. What Abraham Saw in the Workshop
  4. The System That Outlasted Ninus

A King Who Could Not Bury His Father

Ninus had armies, a capital city measured by a thirty-day walk, and the power to burn books when knowledge threatened his throne. None of it helped when Bel died. His father was gone and grief did not answer to authority. So Ninus carved Bel's image in stone, gave the statue his father's name, and set it up where people could come before it.

What happened next was not what he had planned.

A man who had committed a crime against the crown came before the statue and begged in Bel's name. Ninus pardoned him. Another man came. Ninus pardoned him too. Word spread: the statue of Bel could intercede. The dead father could protect the living from the living king. People began coming to the stone image not to mourn a king they had never met but to plead for mercy from a man who was still alive. The statue became a tool of politics dressed in the clothes of grief.

The Statue That Forgave

The logical extension was short and fast. If the image of Bel had power to protect, then the image of Bel had power. If it had power, it could be prayed to. If it could be prayed to, it was, in the practical sense, a god. Ninus had not intended to create a religion. He had intended to keep his father's face in the world. But the distinction collapsed under the weight of the pardons.

The family line already carried the marks of what would come. The chronicle traces Nimrod to Babylon, Bel to Nimrod, Ninus to Bel. Each generation reached for more of the world and held it more tightly. Nimrod was a hunter before God. Bel was the first to be worshipped by a city. Ninus was the first to make worship into a system, a practice that could be taught and transmitted, a permanent institution built on a dead man's likeness and a living king's willingness to honor the petitions made before it.

What Abraham Saw in the Workshop

Abraham came into this world in its shadow. His father Terah made images and sold them in the street, and the young Abraham worked in the stall and watched customers carry home the gods they would honor that evening. He had been inside the manufacturing process for religion and he knew what it was made of. It was made of stone and wood and the grief of a king for his father and the political convenience of a pardon.

The idols in Terah's workshop were younger than the men who bought them. Abraham asked each customer his age and then pointed to the idol and asked the man to consider what he was about to worship. The god in his hands had not seen a single night. The man holding it had seen thirty years, or fifty, or more. Was this the direction worship was supposed to run?

The System That Outlasted Ninus

The system Ninus created did not die with him. Once the first pardon had been given in Bel's name, the expectation was established. Successive kings honored it because to stop honoring it would be to admit that the statue had never had power, which would retroactively undo every pardon that had already been issued and delegitimize every act of mercy they had committed in Bel's name. The idol was now load-bearing. It held up the political structure of every pardon Ninus and his successors had ever granted, and dismantling it would bring the structure down.

This is how the chronicle presents the spread of idol worship: not as deliberate religious innovation but as institutional calcification. One grief-stricken king carves his father's face, discovers that petitions made in front of it are convenient to grant, and the convenience hardens into a system, and the system outlasts the king, and by the time Abraham is born in the shadow of Nimrod's city, the system is several generations old and has the durability of anything that has never been seriously challenged.

Idol WorshipNimrodBabylonHistoryPatriarchsProphecy
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From the tradition

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Chronicles of Jerahmeel XXXIIChronicles of Jerahmeel (Gaster, 1899)

Nimrod was not merely a tyrant. He was the seed of the world's first false religion. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a 12th-century Hebrew chronicle translated by Moses Gaster in 1899, the compiler Jerahmeel drew on the ancient geographer Strabo of Caphtor to record an alternative tradition: Nimrod was actually a son of Shem, not Ham. He began his reign in Babylon and fathered Bel.

Before seizing power, Nimrod traveled to Jonithes, a son of Noah who possessed the spirit of the Lord. Jonithes foresaw through astrology that Nimrod would come seeking counsel on how to obtain sovereignty. He revealed to Nimrod the vision of four kingdoms that Daniel would later see. And told him that the descendants of Ashur, the children of Shem, would rule first.

After Nimrod died, his son Bel succeeded him in Babylon. After Bel came Ninus, who conquered Assyria and built the great city of Nineveh, which stretched thirty days' walking distance. Ninus defeated Zoroaster the Wise, who had inscribed seven sciences on fourteen pillars of brass and brick to protect them against flood and fire. Ninus burned those books of wisdom.

When Bel died, Ninus was so grief-stricken that he made an image in his father's likeness and called it "Bel." Anyone whom Ninus hated could be pardoned by approaching the image of Bel and supplicating it. Soon the whole world worshipped the god Bel, and variations appeared everywhere. Ba'al Pe'or, Ba'al Zebub. This, the chronicle claims, is how idol worship spread across the earth. In the forty-third year of Ninus's reign, Abraham was born, and on that very same day, the first Pharaoh began to rule in Egypt.

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Jasher 9Book of Jasher

It offers us a glimpse into Abraham's early life and the world around him. Remember, the Book of Jasher isn't considered sacred scripture in mainstream Judaism, but it's a rich source of legend and lore, offering a unique perspective.

So, what was going on? According to Jasher, Haran, Abraham's older brother, was starting a family. Haran was 39 when he married, and his wife bore him Lot, and daughters Milca and Sarai (who, of course, would later become Sarah). Jasher tells us Sarai was born when Haran was 42, which was the tenth year of Abraham’s life.

Where was our young Abraham during all this? Well, after his little run-in with King Nimrod (as we read in the previous chapter), Abraham and his mother and nurse emerged from their cave hiding place. The king and his court, it seems, had forgotten all about him.

The Book of Jasher then tells us that Abraham went to live with Noah and his son Shem. Yes, that Noah! He remained there for 39 years, learning about God and His ways. Imagine being mentored by Noah himself! No one knew where Abraham was, says the text, and he served Noah and Shem faithfully. This period was crucial, shaping his understanding of the divine.

But the world outside was in a spiritual freefall. Jasher paints a picture of widespread idolatry. People had forgotten the Lord and were worshipping gods of wood and stone – gods that couldn't speak, hear, or deliver. Even Terah, Abraham's own father, was a major idol merchant, having twelve large idols representing the twelve months of the year, to which he'd bring offerings monthly. As we find in Jasher, "Terah with all his household were then the first of those that served gods of wood and stone."

In a world steeped in idol worship, Abraham stood apart. The text emphasizes that almost no one knew the Lord, except for Noah, his family, and those under his counsel. And young Abraham, growing in wisdom and understanding, realized the futility of idol worship. The Book of Jasher says, "The Lord gave Abram an understanding heart, and he knew all the works of that generation were vain, and that all their gods were vain and were of no avail."

There's a beautiful passage describing Abraham's initial, almost scientific, search for God. He observes the sun, thinking it might be God, but then realizes it sets. He then looks to the moon and stars, wondering if they hold the answer. He understands that these celestial bodies are servants of a greater power. This resonates with similar stories found in the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary), highlighting Abraham's intellectual and spiritual journey toward monotheism.

But the narrative doesn't end with Abraham’s spiritual awakening. The Book of Jasher then shifts to another well-known story: the Tower of Babel. King Nimrod, secure in his reign, united the people, who were all of one language and purpose.

Nimrod's princes and great men, including Phut, Mitzraim, Cush, and Canaan, conspired to build a city and a tower that would reach heaven. Their motivations were threefold, according to Jasher: some wanted to wage war against God, others wanted to place their own gods in heaven, and still others wanted to attack God with bows and spears! Bold, arrogant, and ultimately, doomed.

They gathered a massive workforce, about six hundred thousand men, and found a suitable valley in the land of Shinar. The construction was a major undertaking. The text emphasizes the sheer scale of the project, noting that it took a full year for materials to reach the builders at the top!

But their hubris angered God. The Book of Jasher vividly describes how God confused their languages. Imagine the chaos! One minute you're asking for mortar, the next you're being pelted with bricks because no one understands you. "And from that day following, they forgot each man his neighbor's tongue…and when the builder took from the hands of his neighbor lime or stone which he did not order, the builder would cast it away and throw it upon his neighbor, that he would die."

God then punished the builders according to their intentions. Those who wanted to serve other gods were transformed into apes and elephants (a rather… creative punishment!). Those who wanted to attack heaven were killed by their neighbors. And those who wanted to fight God were scattered across the earth.

The city was named Babel, meaning "confusion," because there God confounded the language of the whole earth. And the tower? A third was swallowed by the earth, a third was consumed by fire, and the remaining third stood as a evidence of their folly.

So, what does this all mean? Chapter 9 of the Book of Jasher gives us a richer, more detailed backdrop to the familiar stories of Abraham and the Tower of Babel. It highlights Abraham’s unique spiritual journey in a world consumed by idolatry and sets the stage for his pivotal role in the unfolding narrative of the Hebrew Bible. It also serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of human arrogance and the futility of trying to challenge the divine. It’s a reminder that true understanding comes not from building towers to the heavens, but from seeking the one God with an open heart.

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