The most interesting thing to me would be the association with the sea - I always got the impression that god came from a history of sky gods? I like the water association better though.
As folks became more dependent on the land and agriculture, rain was a necessity for both crops and basic drinking water. How these different deities and spirits over their own respective domains eventually melded into one is not clearly understood. Some scholars believe it became a necessity both for unity and for cultural survival. It was just easier to say “Our God” instead of “the god of so and so”.
Definitely, I was just wondering where the "sky" elements crept in over the years. The christian/jewish/greek god/zeus all seem closer (at least in imagery) to a fertile crescent sky god - I wonder when that changed.
I find the argument problematic, especially regarding the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15:21). YHWH isn’t merely commanding the sea; He’s overpowering it, as Baal overpowers Yam in the Ugaritic Baal Cycle or Marduk defeats Tiamat in the Enuma Elish. This sea-taming motif, evident in the Song’s archaic poetry (12th–11th century BCE), also appears in Genesis 1, where God subdues the tehom. Though Genesis 1 is later (Priestly, 6th–5th century BCE Wellhausen, 8th-7th century Freidman), this chaos-taming theme predates the Priestly source, rooted in earlier Near Eastern myths. The Song’s YHWH, like Baal or Marduk, dominates the sea, not embodies it, contradicting the text’s claim that YW (Ugaritic “Yaw,” tied to Yam) or Yav (Assyrian) is YHWH.
While theophorism is useful for tracing deity worship within a culture—like YHWH in Hebrew names (e.g., Jehoahaz, Ahaziah) or Baal in Ishbaal—its application across cultures is less reliable. Letter substitution, such as equating Ugaritic YW or Assyrian Yav with Hebrew YHW, becomes speculative due to differing abjads and theological contexts. Ugaritic YW denotes Yam in a polytheistic framework, and Yav’s identity is unclear without evidence of YHWH worship in Assyria. This cross-cultural leap lacks data, unlike the clear B-L for Baal.
Most concerning is the text’s reliance on speculation, particularly the claim that “scholars have speculated” Yaw is Yam’s personal name, not a title. Drawing a firm conclusion—that YHWH was worshipped as Yaw/Yav, tied to Yam—from such uncertainty is unwarranted. The Song’s YHWH, overpowering the sea like Baal, not Yam, and the absence of inscriptions linking YW/Yav to YHWH, undermine this. The text’s argument overreaches, conflating shared motifs with identity.
The most interesting thing to me would be the association with the sea - I always got the impression that god came from a history of sky gods? I like the water association better though.
As folks became more dependent on the land and agriculture, rain was a necessity for both crops and basic drinking water. How these different deities and spirits over their own respective domains eventually melded into one is not clearly understood. Some scholars believe it became a necessity both for unity and for cultural survival. It was just easier to say “Our God” instead of “the god of so and so”.
The sea played a huge role in that region. It connected the ancients with a much wider world.
Definitely, I was just wondering where the "sky" elements crept in over the years. The christian/jewish/greek god/zeus all seem closer (at least in imagery) to a fertile crescent sky god - I wonder when that changed.
@pkoutoupis gives new meaning to the song line: “I, the Lord of Sea and Sky…”
Great thought-provoking piece! I'll be returning to this again, I think.
YHWH/El’s associations with water has a striking similarity with Enki/Ea, and then other characteristics sound more like Enlil/Ellil.
Ur had a celestial father, supernal mother and the son (represented as a golden calf). Abraham fled from Ur.
Interesting isn't it? That's all. Just Interesting.
I believe in the Lord of Hosts. The Almighty. I have good reason.
Brilliant! Clear presentation & insight.
I find the argument problematic, especially regarding the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15:21). YHWH isn’t merely commanding the sea; He’s overpowering it, as Baal overpowers Yam in the Ugaritic Baal Cycle or Marduk defeats Tiamat in the Enuma Elish. This sea-taming motif, evident in the Song’s archaic poetry (12th–11th century BCE), also appears in Genesis 1, where God subdues the tehom. Though Genesis 1 is later (Priestly, 6th–5th century BCE Wellhausen, 8th-7th century Freidman), this chaos-taming theme predates the Priestly source, rooted in earlier Near Eastern myths. The Song’s YHWH, like Baal or Marduk, dominates the sea, not embodies it, contradicting the text’s claim that YW (Ugaritic “Yaw,” tied to Yam) or Yav (Assyrian) is YHWH.
While theophorism is useful for tracing deity worship within a culture—like YHWH in Hebrew names (e.g., Jehoahaz, Ahaziah) or Baal in Ishbaal—its application across cultures is less reliable. Letter substitution, such as equating Ugaritic YW or Assyrian Yav with Hebrew YHW, becomes speculative due to differing abjads and theological contexts. Ugaritic YW denotes Yam in a polytheistic framework, and Yav’s identity is unclear without evidence of YHWH worship in Assyria. This cross-cultural leap lacks data, unlike the clear B-L for Baal.
Most concerning is the text’s reliance on speculation, particularly the claim that “scholars have speculated” Yaw is Yam’s personal name, not a title. Drawing a firm conclusion—that YHWH was worshipped as Yaw/Yav, tied to Yam—from such uncertainty is unwarranted. The Song’s YHWH, overpowering the sea like Baal, not Yam, and the absence of inscriptions linking YW/Yav to YHWH, undermine this. The text’s argument overreaches, conflating shared motifs with identity.