by André Rabe
Background Stories of Genesis
In 1849, in the ancient city of Nineveh, which is on the outskirts of the town of Mosul in modern-day Iraq, a most significant discovery was made. The palace of Sennacherib with its 71 rooms was unearthed. But something even more meaningful was uncovered … a library of 22,000 cuneiform clay tablets. Initial translations of some of the fragments revealed that they contained stories of creation, of gods enjoying their garden paradise, of a prototype human in search of immortality and a snake that stole it from him.
More than a hundred and sixty years later, scholars are still discussing how these stories are connected to the biblical accounts and how they can enrich our understanding of Genesis. What is clear is that similar themes, characters, events, and story structures to the Hebrew accounts were present in other myths throughout the ancient Near East. Canaan, Syria, Mesopotamia and to some degree, Egypt, shared a similar culture. 4 Smaller tribes and groups within this larger culture developed unique versions of these common stories but the connection between them remains obvious.
All the stories we’ll examine here are older than the biblical accounts. How these myths evolved into their later and more complex forms is fascinating and many themes are relevant to the theological ideas present in the Hebrew Scriptures. It is also significant that many of these myths relate to the first 11 chapters of Genesis. What follows are short summaries of a selection of these myths, touching specifically on the themes they have in common with the Hebrew origin stories.
Enki & Ninhursag
Early Sumerian myths tell of the transformation of a wasteland into an ordered agricultural society with irrigation and gardens. Desert surrounded much of the fertile land between the Tigres and Euphrates rivers.
The myth of Enki and Ninhursag is a fascinating story of how the world came to be the way it was for these ancient Sumerians. The names of the gods and their offspring are obvious personifications of the elements and phenomena they observed in their world. Enki, also known as Ea in later myths, is the personification of wisdom and freshwater, both of which were essential for human survival.
There are a number of features in the myth that you’ll find familiar when comparing it to the later Yahwist creation story. The following are the most obvious correlations:
The setting for the unfolding of creation is a garden paradise.
In it are plants that should not be eaten. Eating them results in the curse of death, yet the curse is withdrawn and death does not come immediately.
Enki, the personification of wisdom, is implicated in partaking of the forbidden, yet he is also essential for the creative process.
One of the female gods, Ninti, is “The Lady of the Rib,” and is known as the one who gives life.
Dilmun is the name of this garden sanctuary and is described in the opening poem as follows:
Pure is the city -
and you are the ones
to whom it is allotted!
Pure is Dilmun land!
…
When all alone
he had lain down in Dilmun,
the spot where Enki
had lain down with his spouse,
that spot was virginal,
that spot was pristine!
…
In Dilmun the raven
was not yet cawing,
the flushed partridge
not cackling.
The lion slew not,
the wolf was not
carrying off lambs,
the dog had not been taught
to make kids curl up,
the colt had not learned
that grain was to be eaten. 5
Paradise is often imagined as a historical state of existence before the entrance of death or any other imperfection. However, the original ideas around this garden paradise were not so much a pre-death state of perfection, as they were a description of pre-creation. It is not that the wolf was once vegetarian and thus lived peacefully with the lambs but, rather, Dilmun is a place before either the wolf or the lambs came into their natural existence. As such we can recognize this space as the pre-distinction state of the pre-conscious.
It is in the garden paradise called Dilmun that Enki and Ninhursag fall in love and produce their first daughter. He also produces offspring with the consecutive daughters.
Enki and Ninhursag produce Ninsar - Lady of Vegetation.
Enki and Ninsar produce Ninkurra - Goddess of Mountain Pastures.
Enki and Ninkurra produce Uttu, The Weaver of Patterns and Life Desires.
After impregnating Uttu, he leaves Dilmun to continue his work. Uttu, however, is upset and tells Ninhursag what happened. Ninhursag instructs Uttu to take Enki’s seed from her body and plant it in Dilmun. She does this and eight plants grow as a result. When Enki returns and sees the plants, he starts eating from the first one. It is so delicious that he eats all eight of the plants. Ninhursag finds out about it and she is mad and curses Enki to death. Consequently, Enki becomes sick and begins to die. None of the gods can help him and no one knows where to find Ninhursag. However, a fox knows where she is and brings her back to Enki. She begins a healing process by which she asks Enki where the pain is, then draws it out of him into herself, and then gives birth to a god. Eight gods who are beneficial to mankind are born this way:
Abu, god of plants and growth;
Nintulla, Lord of Magan, governing copper & precious metal;
Ninsitu; goddess of healing and consort of Ninazu;
Ninkasi, goddess of beer;
Nanshe, goddess of social justice and divination;
Azimua, goddess of healing and wife of Ningishida of the underworld;
Emshag, Lord of Dilmun and fertility;
and Ninti, “The Lady of the Rib,” who gives life.
When reading the myth of Enki and Ninhursag, it reminds me of a dream. Images are scattered and the usual laws of logic and morality are not as prominent. There are hints of meaning, but they are not clearly defined. Much room is left for creative interpretation. Maybe the myth is partly an interpretation of a dream. What is obvious is that meaning is suggested by scattered symbols, which is more consistent with the way the unconscious communicates, than the conscious.
Enki and Ninmah
The myth of Enki and Ninmah explores some very popular creation themes, namely gods seeking rest, rebellion, and the reason for creating humans. There was a time when the senior gods made junior gods work too much. They complained bitterly and a solution was sought. Enki and Ninmah began a competition to see who could make suitable replacement laborers (humans). Various prototype humans were formed, but they were all rather pathetic and suffered from many disabilities. Finally Enki produced what looked like the most pathetic candidate of all - an infant. Yet it proved to be the best design for it could grow, mature and pass away naturally.
This is a profound intuition - the idea that a creature could participate in its own creation. The process by which a helpless infant transforms into a capable human has benefits. Wisdom is gained through the journey.
As we’ll see later when we consider the Girardian perspective, there might be real historic events behind the stories of rebellion and the need for faithful laborers. Yet, the pursuit of meaning amid these circumstances is again more consistent with the suggested meanings of a dream, than a conscious retelling of historic events.
Atrahasis
The myth of Atrahasis develops the same themes in a new era. The problem of laborers is addressed again, but it also adds an explanation for natural disasters like the flood.
The junior gods, who were subject to forced labor, caused an uproar. Their noise deprived the senior gods of rest, specifically Enlil who is Enki’s (Ea) father.
Ea proposes a solution, namely to slay the leader of the rebellion and use his blood, mixed with clay, to form a new prototype laborer. Seven pairs of humans are created, but a vital mistake is made. Ea forgets to make them mortal. (These semi-gods are the literary forerunn
ers to the Nephilim in the Hebrew Bible.) Another mistake comes to light - the rebellious blood with which they were created continues to stir rebellion in the humans. They too begin to disturb the rest of the gods.
The only solution, it seems, is to reduce these rebellious and noisy humans with disasters. When Enlil plans to annihilate the human race with a flood, Ea warns Atrahasis (one of the seven pairs of experimental humans) of the plan and instructs him to build a boxlike boat. Atrahasis does as Ea instructed and loads two of every animal into the ark. As a result Atrahasis and a selection of animals survive the flood. His first act after setting foot on land again is to offer sacrifice. This might be seen as a way in which Atrahasis accepts his proper place of servitude to the gods. Enlil loves the smell of the sacrifice and agrees not to annihilate all life if a proper limit to human life could be set. And so an agreement is reached in which Enlil promises not to annihilate life again and Atrahasis accepts that humans should be mortal and serve the gods.
What is the proper relationship between humans and the divine? This is a significant question for the Atrahasis myth, and it is bound up with the question of human mortality. The story makes the imaginative leap to suggest that there once were humans who were immortal, but that such an arrangement did not work. Conflict and disasters only increased. Part of its message is that humans should make peace with their mortality
Adapa
Besides the similarity of the names Adapa and Adam, many other aspects of the stories are connected. Adapa also means “human” or “earthling.” Similar to Adam he is also the first created human. When Ea created Adapa, “He granted him wisdom, but he did not grant him eternal life. ” This is the central theme of the myth. Humans are intelligent enough to contemplate the meaning of time and the inevitability of death. But in knowing we will die, what then is the point of life? Would immortality not be an appropriate gift? Like Adam, Adapa has an opportunity to eat the food of immortality, but because he listens to Ea’s warning he is robbed of the opportunity.
One day, while Adapa was out fishing, a wind capsized his boat. In anger, Adapa curses the south wind and breaks its wing so that it could not blow for seven days. But this act seems to be overstepping the proper human boundaries and Anu, the sky god, sends for Adapa to come and explain himself.
Ea advises Adapa to show remorse and humility. Ea knows that Anu might offer Adapa the food and drink of life. But Ea advises Adapa not to eat or drink anything he is offered as it would surely be the food and drink of death. When Adapa appears before Anu, he does exactly as Ea instructed. Anu, impressed by Adapa’s intelligence and attitude, offers him the food of immortality, but Adapa refuses.
“Why has Ea revealed to impure mankind
The heart of heaven and earth? A heart
... has created within him, has made him a name?
What can we do with him? Food of life
Bring him, that he may eat.” Food of life
They brought him, but he ate not. Water of life
They brought him, but he drank not. 6
Anu is surprised by this refusal and asks why he does not partake. Adapa tells Anu of Ea’s instruction. The third tablet is fragmentary, but it seems Ea would be punished for this act. And so Adapa returns to earth to live out the remainder of his days.
Immortality & Wisdom
A few underlying questions are present in all these origin myths, namely the reality of death and the human capacity to anticipate this event. They recognize that humans have been gifted with a unique intelligence. However, this gift of wisdom also presents us with unique problems: we are wise enough to know that we will die. Why would the gods share the gift of wisdom with humans but not the gift of immortality? What is the purpose of life in the face of inevitable death?
Consciousness is in itself an experience of freedom - an awareness that I am more than a physical entity, determined by events beyond my control, and swept along the inevitable flow of time. I can act; I can create; I can give meaning to events. It is not a freedom from the physical but rather a freedom within my bodily existence. But this feeling of transcendence is confronted by the reality of death. Death is a limit to our freedom and questions the meaning we create. Death consciousness focuses our attention on the significance of time. If humans were immortal, it’s unlikely that we would have pursued the meaning of time with much urgency.
Why are we mortal? Two solutions are explored in these pre-genesis myths. The first is that the original humans were created immortal, but that became a real problem to the gods, as they became very noisy or rebellious. The imagined solution was, therefore, to kill them off unnaturally through disasters until a final agreement was reached to limit human life to 120 years. The second explanation proposes that humans were created mortal but given the opportunity to become immortal. This opportunity however was forfeited.
In both cases, the stories simply give an explanation for what was plainly obvious: humans are mortal despite our intelligence. Somehow we need to make peace with this reality. Whether these stories helped their ancient audience any more than it helps us, I’m not sure. What we do know is that we still face the same reality of death, which stirs questions of meaning.
The Yahwist author used many of these familiar themes, settings, and events to skillfully craft a story that gave a new vision of both God and humanity. But in order to see what is new in the Yahwist account, we first need to recognize what is a continuation of the previous traditions. We’ll explore these in greater depth in the chapters to come, but the following preliminary observations are useful now. The intelligence of ha-adam is on display in the naming of the animals. And, the personification of wisdom in the form of the serpent has obvious correlations with other myths of this time. The possibility of immortality that seems so close, yet remains out of reach, is portrayed in the tree of life. And death-consciousness also enters the story in Genesis chapter 3.
The Yahwist seems to give a unique perspective on this familiar problem. Humans are indeed created mortal - from the dust - yet, there is also the possibility of partaking of the tree of life. Immortality is therefore not an inherent quality of being human, but it may be received as pure gift. The Yahwist’s God does not seem to have a problem with sharing the tree of life with humans. In the story, however, humanity also forfeits this opportunity. But is that the end of the story? It may be the perfect setup for a surprising twist.
The Garden and Creation as a Process
The concept of creation out of nothing was not familiar to any of these authors. Rather, creation begins in the midst of chaos. Some form of primordial material is always assumed. The time before creation is described as a time before civilization, before irrigation, when the land was a wasteland. The later popular Christian idea of creation-out-of-nothing meant that the garden paradise stories were interpreted as post-creation dramas and that makes it difficult to understand their intended meaning. Originally these stories described the very process of moving from pre-creation into the created reality that we now observe.
Consequently, in these mythic origin accounts, creation is also a process, not an instantaneous act. Specifically the creation of mankind seems to always be an experiment that progresses slowly. At the early stages of creation, humans are described as more animal-like, having no clothes and drinking water like beasts. The creation of humans is seen as a work in progress, an evolution. This ancient intuition has proven to be closer to the truth than later theories of instant creation.
The process also implies that the gods can be rather naive. Their works are not perfect and they often make mistakes, regret what they have done, and sometimes try to annihilate their mistakes. We might find it rather comical that the gods were naive in their experiments, but it provided a realistic perspective on an existence that was obviously less than perfect.
Let’s give our attention specifically to the Yahwist account again:
This is the history of the heavens and the earth when they were created, in the day
that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, before any plant of the field was in the earth and before any herb of the field had grown. For the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the earth, and there was no man to till the ground; but a mist went up from the earth and watered the whole face of the ground.
- Genesis 2:4-6 RSV
The concept of creation out of nothing is absent here also. Similar to contemporary myths, creation is the act of bringing order to an existing chaos, of transforming a wasteland into a garden. The situation before this creative process is described as a time before culture, before plants grew or people tilled the land. The creative events of watering, of planting a garden, and of people tilling the land bring order to the chaos. The Sumerian myth of Enki and Ninhursag also mentions a subterranean watering system.
Throughout Genesis 2 we see a similar progression in the creation of ha-adam, the earthling. After creating the earthling Yahweh realizes that ha-adam is alone and that this situation is not good. He promptly creates animals in the hope that it will relieve the loneliness. However, no suitable partner is found among the animals. And so it’s back to the drawing board, in a rather literal way. The earthling is placed in a deep sleep and the woman is separated from the male. At last a solution is found!
But the process is not complete. Further development takes place as the earthlings progress from their naive innocence into wiser, yet more conflicted, adults - people we recognize to be like ourselves. To interpret such a progressive creation as the work of a naive god, is one way to see it, but a greater wisdom might lie hidden in this approach.
