If we read the Scriptures without fear and with spiritual honesty, we discover that many of the truths we were taught were not absolute truths, but partial interpretations or, in some cases, completely mistaken. Surprisingly, this reality is found within the Scriptures themselves. Scriptures that are taught as the Word of God from Genesis to Revelation, when in fact the Bible also contains human inspiration interwoven with the Voice of God. In the specific case of the authorship of the sacrificial ritual, and the subsequent conjectures regarding the death of Jesus found in some New Testament authors, this human voice placed above the voice of God is evident and largely overlooked.
This example is crucial: the belief that the temple cult in Israel—with its sacrifices, burnt offerings, offerings, and everything related to them—was a divine mandate. In reality, it was an imposition by the scribes, who adopted religious practices common to their place of origin: Sumer, where religion and human faith were born. This point becomes evident if we take the prophets and the authors of the Psalms seriously. Yet we ended up accepting that God established the cult of sacrifices and burnt offerings as part of the Covenant in the wilderness with Israel. Even more striking is the fact that, during the time of the New Testament writers, an innovation emerged that modified these cultic requirements, breaking the supposed mandate that they were to be observed perpetually, as they were claimed to have been prescribed by God Himself until this very day.
In other words, these mandates were not only not ordered by God, but they also violated the principle of perpetuity established for the rules of worship. When the era of the New Testament writers arrived, those regulations were altered without hesitation. For those who consider themselves students of the Scriptures, the fact that the mandate of perpetuity in cultic laws—taught as having been dictated by God—was broken should have been an obvious warning sign, yet it was not. This should have been undeniable, since God’s spiritual laws, unlike external practices, are eternal and do not change with time.
However, ancient generations clung to superficial forms that only pleased human beings. In those days, those forms were expressed through the death of animals as offerings. But by breaking the mandate of perpetuity regarding sacrifices, human beings unintentionally revealed the human origin of those laws. Leviticus says:
“[…] This shall be a perpetual statute for you: in the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month… it is the day when atonement shall be made for you, to cleanse you; you shall be clean from all your sins before the Lord… It shall be a perpetual statute for you; once a year atonement shall be made for the Israelites for all their sins.”
How did this happen? By ignoring the Voice of God expressed through the prophets, who clearly stated that God had never commanded sacrifices. This ignorance was not accidental; it arose from the fact that sacrifices were part of the religious system created by human beings after the spiritual fall in Sumer, the birthplace of the Hebrews. That tradition became a hook from which ancient Israel could not escape. Like the descendants of Noah, they were not only born in the region but lived immersed in a culture and society shaped by religious beliefs conceived by the human mind of that era. These elements—idolatrous and polytheistic cultural traditions—were not abandoned until the destruction of the temple, when, forced by God, circumstances, and cultural changes, they were finally left behind.
This becomes even more significant when we consider the role later attributed to Jesus as a substitute for animal sacrifices. We were taught that Jesus was the human provision to replace the inefficacy of sacrifices as a means of absolution, thereby satisfying God’s justice. Some New Testament writers envisioned a practical solution to the problem they faced: animal sacrifice was losing its value as a means of forgiveness. Notably, sacrificial ritual as a religious custom was already losing relevance in the pagan world. Had this not been the case, it would likely have continued to hold cultural relevance in the Judeo-Christian sphere.
Within this social and cultural shift, the solution was to ignore the mandate of perpetuity, disregard the prophetic message, and establish a new doctrine—one that remains in place to this day. If one reads the Letter to the Hebrews and other New Testament passages, one will find the reasons offered for this shift. Yet, in my view, these explanations are irreverent and contrary to the just character of God.
It was claimed that the blood of animals could not bring forgiveness of sins, leading to the astonishing idea that God would require the blood of an innocent human being rather than that of an animal to achieve redemption. This, however, contradicts God’s character and the eternal truth that forgiveness is obtained through repentance and heartfelt acknowledgment of wrongdoing. It also ignores the clear teaching that “Parents shall not die for their children, nor children for their parents; each shall die for his own sin,” as well as the claim that these ritual practices were decreed in perpetuity by God Himself.
The ancient Sumerians, Babylonians, and Canaanites offered bloody sacrifices to their gods, but they did not attribute to those rituals the power to remit sins. That belief was an innovation introduced by the Israelite priesthood, which adopted animal sacrifice but assigned it a new meaning: purification from sin. Over time, however, this custom lost credibility, as many began to question its effectiveness as a means of forgiveness. This tension ultimately led to the reinterpretation found in the Epistle to the Hebrews, where animal sacrifice is replaced by the sacrifice of a man.
With this modification—based on a cultic ritual whose authorship God had denied—the sacrificial custom for forgiveness was brought to an end. Perhaps the most serious issue with these cultic mandates was the use of God’s Name to legitimize a falsehood. It was claimed, “Yahweh said,” when Yahweh had said nothing of the sort. After Jesus’ death, the meaning of sacrifice took on a new interpretation, influenced by the religious and cultural thinking of the time. By then, sacrifices had largely lost their value, especially among the educated classes of the pagan world, and within Israel itself opinions were divided regarding their importance.
Not only Christians, but many Jews of the first century criticized the corruption of the priesthood and the empty formalism of sacrifices. Scribes, Pharisees, and Essenes (such as those at Qumran) held differing views: some Pharisees believed that the study of the Torah was superior to sacrifice; the Essenes rejected the temple, considering it corrupt. Others emphasized prayer, obedience, justice, and mercy over the shedding of animal blood, just as the prophets had taught centuries earlier. Times were changing.
After Jesus’ death, and amid the growing discredit of sacrifices, a new religion began to take shape—one more aligned with the beliefs of the time. This departure from God’s original message was not exclusive to Hebrew scribes. With the formation of Christianity, something similar occurred: a “new covenant” was instituted that supposedly replaced the previous one, rendering parts of the Hebrew Scriptures obsolete. It was a clever turn, especially considering that animal sacrifice had lost its value. In this way, the connection to the original spiritual teaching about how to cleanse wrongdoing was further weakened. Yet from Adam until today, the Covenant between God and humanity remains intact and available to anyone who desires it—through reconciliation with the Creator. God has already told us what is good and what He requires of us: to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with Him.
In terms of religious organization and worship, the Hebrew system was based on Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and Canaanite models. Sumerian culture, established in the Euphrates Valley, was the first in history to institutionalize religion within a governmental system. According to the French author Georges Roux, temples from the Ubaid period discovered along the Euphrates show that the largest and most carefully constructed buildings were always temples. From these settlements emerged the major cities of Sumer. Urban planning followed a geomantic design—that is, one based on geometry, understood as the “measurement of the earth.” Roux states: “It would seem that the future cities of Sumer grew not around a palace or a fortress, but around a sanctuary…”
On these sites—considered special places where supernatural manifestations were believed to occur—Sumerian temple towers were erected. Cities grew around these temples. This was the cultural and religious context in which Abraham and his family were born and flourished.
The religious history of the world begins to be recorded in cuneiform texts when humanity settled into urban conglomerations. In the Bible, Babylon is described as the “sorceress of the nations,” but this influence was only possible because Sumerian culture established the political-religious system that later spread.
When Hammurabi unified the city-states of Sumer and Akkad under one rule, the political-religious system had already been functioning for centuries. Although Sumer was the cradle of this system, its religious beliefs originated in prehistoric times. Roux notes: “Another inescapable conclusion drawn from the temples of Eridu is that the same religious tradition was passed down century after century, on the same site, from the middle of the sixth millennium B.C. to historical times” (Roux, 69). This demonstrates the continuity of a tradition that influenced not only Babylon, but later cultures as well.
This religious inheritance also passed to Abraham and his descendants. The Sumerian priestly organization, which began with simple gatekeepers guarding sanctuaries where people implored their gods, evolved into temples administered by a priestly body. This same structure was reflected in Israel. Even King David assumed priestly functions, organizing temple worship and combining religious and political authority.
The fact that David and his sons performed priestly functions contradicts the idea that the Israelite priesthood was instituted by divine command in the wilderness. Biblical evidence confirms this: “David danced before the Lord with all his might, wearing a priestly garment” (2 Samuel 6:14). Later we read: “Benaiah son of Jehoiada was over the Cherethites and the Pelethites. And David’s sons were priests” (2 Samuel 8:18).
When Solomon came to power, however, the situation changed. Unlike his father, Solomon showed no interest in exercising priestly functions. Instead, he delegated control of worship and priesthood to Zadok, a Levite descended from Aaron. This marked a turning point, as priestly power became concentrated in the hands of the Levitical family, particularly under Zadok and his descendants.
It is possible that Solomon, focused on building the temple and ruling as king, entrusted the priesthood to the Levites without foreseeing the consequences. Lacking interest in priestly functions, he opened the door for the Levites to consolidate power. Once obtained, they were unwilling to relinquish it. What began as a practical delegation became a power structure.
Most revealing is the fact that, to secure their control, the Levites claimed that God Himself had given these instructions to Moses in the wilderness. Priestly scribes drafted laws attributed to Moses, declaring the priesthood and ritual system to be divine commands “in perpetuity.” This claim was an invention, designed to secure religious power and prevent challenges to their authority.
The prophets denounced this falsehood. Jeremiah 7:22 declares: “For I did not speak to your fathers or command them, on the day I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings and sacrifices.” Amos says: “I hate, I despise your feasts… Even though you offer me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them… But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” And Zephaniah is even clearer: “Her prophets are reckless, treacherous men; her priests profane what is holy; they do violence to the law.”
These texts make it clear that authentic prophets denounced the sacrificial and ritual system as a falsification of God’s will. Yet the Levitical priests ensured their laws and authority by claiming divine origin. Control of the temple and worship system became a means of power.
Thus, what initially was a dynastic priestly function tied to King David and his sons transformed into a formalized priesthood controlled by a Levitical elite. This class secured power by interpreting Scripture in its own favor and asserting that God had instituted the ritual system they administered. In reality, priestly power did not arise from divine revelation, but from gradual historical development.
These passages reveal that the Levitical priesthood was not the first in Israel, but a later institution that followed the priestly roles of David and his sons. This suggests that the Israelite priesthood, as it later developed, was an adaptation and formalization of a preexisting system not ordered by God. The connection between worship and priesthood was inseparable, which indirectly confirms the prophets’ words: sacrifices were not part of the original covenant in the wilderness.
This model of dynastic and political priesthood in David’s Israel bears greater resemblance to Sumerian traditions than to a strictly Levitical priesthood supposedly established by God in the desert. History reveals that Israel’s religious practices did not arise from divine revelation at Sinai, but were inherited from ancestral traditions rooted in the temples of Eridu.
In Sumer, the god Enlil was considered the founder of religion and bore the titles of “king” and “priest.” When Sargon conquered the region, he proclaimed himself “king of Akkad and of the kingdom of Enlil,” asserting both spiritual and political authority in opposition to the kingdom of God. According to Langdon’s translation of a Sumerian poem, Enlil is described as: “Descendant of a high priest, whose head is crowned. You, the high priest, are the lord of the depths, the divine king who dwells in the sanctuary of heaven.”
This concept of a leader combining religious and political functions is what David embodied and persisted, in some form, until the time of Jesus, who is described as “king and priest” according to a theology resembling that of the polytheistic king-priest Melchizedek. Enlil was regarded as the creator of civilization, religion, and priesthood, as expressed in the poem cited by Georges Roux:
“Without Enlil, the Great Mountain, no city would have been built, no colony founded, no market established, no sheepfold created, no king raised up, no high priest born…”
Although Abraham is recognized as the beginning of monotheistic understanding, it was not until Israel’s time in the wilderness that this concept was directly reinforced by God. Abraham received the understanding of one God—apparently forgotten—since from Adam to Noah humanity was monotheistic and believed in the God of the Garden. In the wilderness period, clear commands were given emphasizing exclusive worship of God: “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol or any image of what is in heaven above or on the earth beneath. You shall not bow down to them or worship them.”
These words not only establish monotheism by prohibiting the worship of other gods, but also condemn idolatry, which was common in surrounding cultures. The prohibition against images directly opposes the Sumerian belief that “god is man” and the system of worship in which gods were created in human likeness.
And what was that worship? It included sacrifices, offerings, libations, bread, incense, pure and impure animals, temples, and priesthood. However, unlike pagan practices, God’s decrees did not establish a specific ritual or mandatory liturgy. Instead, the spiritual relationship was to be based on justice, mercy, and humbly following His voice.
In practice, however, a ritual system arose modeled after existing polytheistic traditions. The ritual aspect of Hebrew worship—its sacrifices and priestly organization—was a replication of pagan liturgy learned and inherited from ancestral customs and cultural environments. If Moses truly instituted this system, then he did so by modeling it after existing religious traditions. If, on the other hand, a “god” truly demanded such a liturgical system, that god would merely have been copying already established practices. Ritual and priesthood were not new in the ancient world prior to Israel. And God clarified through the prophets that He had never commanded such worship, revealing that external forms of worship did not interest Him.
The Sumerians possessed incantations designed to break curses. One such spell was translated by Stephen Langdon and published in Sumerian Liturgical Texts.
The incantation described a curse afflicting a king, believed to have been caused by the god Nudimmud, known as “the curse of the bird.” According to the text, the king believed the curse led him to consume impure foods such as a dog, a bird, certain fish, and a pig—all considered impure by the Sumerians.
These animals had a dual nature: they were considered sacred yet impure. The blood of the pig, for example, was poured out as an offering, as referenced in Isaiah 66:3: “He who sacrifices a bull is like one who kills a man; he who slaughters a lamb is like one who breaks a dog’s neck; he who offers pig’s blood is like one who blesses an idol.”
Historian Morris Jastrow explained: “The concept of sacredness had two sides. On one hand, a sacred animal could be taboo—too sacred to be touched, let alone killed or eaten. On the other, its original sanctity made it unsuitable or impure for human consumption” (Jastrow, 397). That is, these animals were considered food for the gods and therefore impure for humans.
The king in Langdon’s incantation, having consumed impure foods, required a purification ritual involving the creation and destruction of fifteen figurines representing demons and spirits afflicting him. These figures were made of various materials and placed in specific locations to dispel the curse.
The ritual also included offerings to the god Shamash: enchanted breads, incense, wine libations, and the sacrifice of a pig and a bird. These same elements appear in Hebrew liturgy, where the “enchanted breads” became known as the “bread of the Presence”:
“You shall take fine flour and bake twelve loaves… You shall set them in two rows… and put pure frankincense on each row, that it may be a memorial portion as an offering by fire to the Lord” (Leviticus 24:5–7).
These parallels demonstrate that the Sumerian-Babylonian religious system preceded the Hebrew one. It was not given by Yahweh, but originated in ancient regional traditions where Enlil was considered the creator of religion and priesthood. Had Yahweh designed and ordered this liturgy, it should not have existed among His enemies prior to Israel’s formation. If a god needs to copy religious practices from others, then that god is merely a human creation.
In light of this, the Pentateuch’s prohibition against eating pork is not surprising. It may stem from ancient pagan concepts that regarded pigs as food reserved for the gods and therefore impure for humans. Alternatively, it may have served to distinguish monotheistic worship from polytheistic ritual, even though both shared many elements.
These correspondences between Sumerian practices and the Israelite ritual system are too clear to ignore. Temple ritual, worship, and priesthood were not original revelations given by God in the wilderness, but adaptations of a much older system. Israel did not create its religious system; it inherited and modified it, presenting it as a divine mandate. Yet there was one ancient figure who walked those same lands without being enslaved by those practices—who used altars and stones not as ritual obligations, but to point the way to the one true God. That man was Abraham. And his journey from Haran to Canaan will be key to understanding how faith in the true God survived in a world dominated by ritual and images—even among his own descendants.