HOW THE ISRAELITES INVENTED OUR CIVILIZATION

Author: By Maureen Dezell, Globe Staff

Date: SUNDAY, July 19, 1998

Page: C3

Section: Books

In this second volume of his projected ``Hinges of History'' series, Cahill credits the Jews not just with saving Western civilization but inventing it -- at least what's worthwhile about it. The ancient Israelites gave the world monotheism; a sense of history and destiny; and the concepts of individuality and justice. Absent the latter, such seminal documents as the Declaration of Independence would never have existed, Cahill argues. ``There is no way that it could ever have been `self-evident that all men are created equal' without the intervention of the Jews.''

Cahill recounts the early history of the Israelites as told in the first five books of the Bible, beginning with the story of Abraham, who followed God's directive to ``go forth'' from Sumer. At the outset of his journey, Abraham was a polytheist ``a believer in many (and conflicting) gods and godlets -- bad-tempered forces of nature and the cosmos who could be temporarily appeased by just the right rites and rigamarole.'' By the time he makes his way to the mountaintop to sacrifice his beloved son, Isaac, he has come to understand that the voice that speaks to him is that of a singular, all-powerful, unknowable presence -- the monotheistic god of Western religion.

The phrase ``wayyelekh Avram'' (Abraham went) comprises ``two of the boldest words in all of literature,'' the author contends. Abraham's sojourn to an unknown destination marks a radical break with a civilization that considered life random and cyclical. His quest is a recognition of personal destiny -- that ``we are not doomed, not bound to some predetermined fate; we are free.'' Later, when Moses leads the enslaved Israelites out of Egypt, he acts with a sense of ``corporate'' destiny; that of the people of Israel. ``Taken together, these two great escapes give us an entirely new sense of past and future -- the past as constitutive of the present; the future as truly unknown.'' For the first time in human consciousness, according to Cahill, history is real.

Cahill's historic synthesis is lucid, eminently readable, and often entertaining, but it is more than a vernacular retelling of an ancient tale. A longtime director of religious publishing at Doubleday, the author studied Jewish scripture, learned Hebrew, and spent time in the Middle East desert before writing this book. He exalts his ancient subjects; their hearts, minds, and experiences resonate in his compelling contemporary narrative.

We are there among the ``motley band of escaped slaves''; the ``dusty ones,'' the idol worshipers who trudged with Moses through the Sinai. We are awed by the power of what is inscribed on the tablets Moses carries down from the mountaintop. The Ten Commandments, which the Bible describes as ``Ten Words,'' may well have been ``utterly primitive, basic injunctions on the order of `No-kill,' `No-steal,' `No-lie' . . . memorizable by even the simplest nomad, his ten fingers a constant reminder of their centrality in his life,'' Cahill tells us. Viscerally, we understand.

The commandments, a ``code of codes,'' rules that ``require no justification,'' remain ``reasonable, necessary, even unalterable presents'' to this day, he contends. The Fifth Commandment, ``Thou shalt not kill,'' has been scrutinized, and debated throughout history. ``But whether you are president of the Joint Chiefs or of the Fellowship of Reconciliation, a supporter of Right to Life or of Naral, Jesse Helms or Helen Prejean, you would hardly urge the scrapping or suppression of this commandment.''

Cahill's rhetorical flourish is not unlike that of an erudite, showman-like academic -- the popular college professor who draws capacity crowds to lectures illuminating obscure or time-worn topics. He can be hyperbolic and glib. Even readers wholly sympathetic to his fundamental premise may have difficulty buying his argument that ``we can hardly get up in the morning or cross the street without being Jewish.'' And, surely, not all of the legacies of other ancient civilizations have disappeared into the mists of time, as Cahill suggests. Consider, for example, the Greeks.

Nonetheless, Cahill's clearly voiced, jubilant song of praise to the gifts of the Jews is itself a gift -- a splendid story, well told.