Genesis 11:18Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Although they attempted to establish laws for their communal existence, even those seemingly just laws were corrupted by their wickedness. Idolatry did not originate with Seruch, the great-grandfather of Abraham, as some claim; rather, Seruch inherited the false worship that had been previously established. The roots of idolatry lay with Nain, the son of Bilhah. Upon the death of King Bilhah, who ruled over Assyria and Babylonia, Nain ascended to the throne. Grieving for his father, he sculpted a likeness of him and erected it in the city, establishing a memorial to be honored posthumously, enacting a decree that if anyone guilty of a crime approached the statue to worship it, they would be absolved of their transgressions. Those seeking royal favor began to pay homage to this idol, and similar practices spread as peoples emulated the Assyrians and Chaldeans, erecting monuments to fallen leaders. Seeing the reverence for these lifeless idols, demons exploited the situation, occupying the idols and speaking through them to mislead humanity. They started to respond to inquiries as if foretelling the future, leading the deluded into honoring them as divine beings, offering sacrifices in worship. Thus, polytheism and idolatry flourished among people. Some historians, such as the Amsterdam chronographer, assert that Semiramis, the daughter of Vil, rather than Nin, created the first idol. However, many support the view that Nin, as Vil's son, was responsible for the memorial to his father.

In the lands of Egypt, the emergence of idolatry took a similar turn. A distinguished nobleman named Syrophanis, mourning his deceased son, crafted an idol resembling him and placed it at his grave. This brought some alleviation to his sorrow. The subjects of Syrophanis, eager to please him, began to offer sacrifices to this image. Saint Chrysostom references this, noting that a grieving wealthy man, devoid of comfort, created a lifeless likeness of his son and, gazing upon it, believed he saw his child alive. Yet, some individuals, indulging in base desires, served this image, thereby engaging in idolatry. It is also reported that seeing the veneration afforded to his son's idol, Syrophanis built a temple to honor his memory and appointed priests to maintain the temple, establishing a rotation for their service. The priests followed strict regulations, shunning worldly distractions, abstaining from marital relations, and dedicating themselves to their duties. This disciplined lifestyle later infiltrated idol worshippers, leading to abstention from food and drink (aside from sacrificial offerings), and even from familial contact. They immersed themselves in the study of astronomy and sorcery, focusing on the elements of the world around them. This consideration brings forth a poignant reflection: if priests of false gods maintained such discipline while serving them, how much more should priests of the True God practice self-denial and reverence while conducting the sacred liturgy? Are not the idolaters a cause of shame for some Christians who live in excess, engage in trivial pursuits, neglect their spiritual duty, and perform their roles with spiritual lethargy? Will they not face severe judgment compared to those who lapsed into idolatry, yet adhered to rigorous conduct without understanding the truth? The idolaters showed profound reverence for their false gods, while some believers lack the same respect in the service of Christ. Woe to the corruption and unrighteousness within the priesthood! When they stand before Christ, how will they justify their lack of fervor compared to the zeal with which the idol priests served their vain deities?

George Kedrin narrates that in Ragab’s time, pride stirred among people, leading them to adopt royal titles and build arms to wage war against each other. Consequently, the Canaanite tribe grew weary and fell into slavery, fulfilling Noah's prophecy. Additionally, it is vital to revisit our earlier mention of Asshur, known as Bilhah; following Nimrod’s demise, he refused to endure Ham’s tribe in eastern Babylon, ascending to power there himself. Kedar’s account of Nina, son of Beel, reveals him as the first to expand the Assyrian monarchy, wishing to dominate peaceful lands content with their borders. He conquered dispersed territories and eventually engaged in battle against Zoroaster, the Bactrian king, whom he defeated and slew, asserting his rule over the Bactrian kingdom, located near the Scythians and named after the Bactros river flowing through it, where the city of Bactra served as its capital. This kingdom was marked by a barbaric practice: children abandoned aging parents, surrendering them to dogs for consumption. These hounds, specifically nurtured for this purpose, were referred to as funeral dogs. The ingratitude shown by these children was shocking, repaying the love and care of their parents with such torment! Alas, the darkness and delusion that shrouded the pagans, deceived by demons who mistook this appalling act as divine favor! Perhaps this righteous judgment of God permitted such horrors upon them because they showed utter disregard for their own offspring, sacrificing them to demons. The psalmist observes, “They killed their sons and their daughters, shedding innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters” (Psalm 105:37-38). Hence, the same fate befell them; their offspring turned into their executioners. Zoroaster was famously born laughing, an unusual trait signaling joy rather than the customary infant cry. Upon reaching maturity, he was acknowledged as the founder of stargazing and sorcery after the flood and gained recognition as an expert physician. Despite his scholarly achievements, his works were ultimately consumed by flames at the hands of Nin, who also took Zoroaster's life. His life embodies the fickleness of worldly existence and fleeting fortunes; having been born with joy, he met a bitter end, illustrating life’s transient nature. He entered the world rejoicing but departed in sorrow. All earthly joys faded as he succumbed to cruelty at the hands of enemies. What solace can be found in such a joyful entrance when it culminated in a tragic farewell? Our lives mirror the flow of a river, initially sweet, ultimately merging into the salty bitterness of the sea—in which all joy is consumed by sorrow. Though we may chase ephemeral delights—temporary wealth, fleeting fame, or indulgence—daily we approach the bitter ocean, the inevitability of death. Once we reach that point, past pleasures hold no power to relieve our anguish. The sweetness we once cherished becomes irrelevant against the bitterness of mortality. Consider how countless rivers flow into the sea, yet the sea remains unchanged in its bitterness. Similarly, the joys of life lack the capacity to comfort in our final hour. All temporal pleasures transform into bitterness at death, amplifying the grief of those who cherished worldly pleasures. “If she glorifies herself and lives in luxury, to the same extent give her torment and sorrow” (Rev. 18:7). Fortunate is the one who mourns rather than rejoices in this life; who does not celebrate temporal gifts but reflects on sin, death, judgment, and eternal condemnation, diligently seeking to please God for everlasting joy. Additionally, history recalls another stargazer named Zoroaster from Persia, who foretold his demise by lightning, instructing his kin to keep his bones with dignity, promising perpetual strength to Persia while his bones rested there. The execution of his prophecy was fulfilled when he perished by lightning, yet his assurance concerning Persia’s fate proved false, as the kingdom soon fell into ruin.