Noah and the flood: an epic poem of mythological proportions
Mesopotamian mythology, and in particular the Gilgamesh myth, provide valuable comparisons to the Noah story., which can be regarded as a protest against many of the ideas of Mesopotamian mythology.
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The Biblical story of Noah and his ark stretches belief. There is no archeological evidence that a flood, or any other global catastrophe, disrupted human civilization. The notion that all animals in the world could be rescued in an ark seems very naïve.
Could this be a story about a local flood of unusual intensity and extent rather than a global catastrophe? At least one Midrashic source considers this possibility when it suggests that the Land of Israel was excluded from Noah’s flood.1
However, the text belies such a notion. This is a story about global destruction. The words “all” and “every” are keywords in this passage:
“And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, both of bird, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth, and every man; All in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died. And He wiped out all existence that was on the face of the ground, both man, and cattle, and the creeping things, and the bird of the heaven; and they were destroyed from the earth; and Noah only remained alive, and those who were with him in the ark.” (Genesis 7:21-23).
Moreover, the Biblical description of the onset of the flood brings us back to the first chapter of Genesis and the disorder accompanying the beginning of the earth:
In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, in the second month, on that day all the fountains of the great deep (tehom raba) (תְּהוֹם רַבָּה) burst forth; and the windows of the heavens (hashomayim) (הַשָּׁמַיִם) were opened (Genesis 7:11).
The “tehom” (תְהוֹם), usually translated as “the deep,” are the primordial waters of chaos that covered the earth at the time of creation:
In the beginning of God’s creating the heavens and earth, when the earth was bewilderment and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep (tehom) (תְהוֹם), and the spirit of God was hovering upon the surface of the waters (Genesis 1:1).
Subsequently, in the creation story, the land mass arose from within the deep primeval waters and seas were formed, while the “tehom” remained deep within the oceans. During the flood these deep primeval waters surged up into the seas and flowed over the land. Simultaneously, windows present in the barrier between the waters above the heavens and the heavens themselves opened up. After the flood the process reversed itself — the fountains of the “tehom” closed up and the deep waters receded back into the seas. Just as the “spirit of God” hovered over the “tehom” on the first day of Creation and guided the creative process, so also the “spirit” of God passed over the earth during the flood to guide its resolution:
And God caused a spirit to pass over the earth, and the waters subsided. The fountains of the deep (tehom) (תְהוֹם) and the windows of the heavens were closed, (Genesis 8:1-2). . . The waters then receded from upon the earth, receding continuously, and the waters diminished at the end of a hundred and fifty days (Genesis 8:3).
This is far more than an extensive local flood. This is a return to the primeval chaos of Creation.
But if this is an imaginary tale, what is it doing in the Bible?
I have posed this question over the years to many orthodox Rabbis and none gave me a satisfactory answer. All were wedded to a very literal understanding of the text. Some were even perturbed that I would question the historicity of the Bible. Eventually, I became acquainted with the writings of two Biblical scholars, Umberto Cassuto and Nahum Sarma, and they led me on a trail that changed my entire perception of the early chapters of Genesis.2,3
Both scholars considered the Pentateuch to be written by a single author, and both showed that the Noah story borrowed heavily from Mesopotamian sources.
Stories about a great flood existed for hundreds of years before the Bible was written and were widely disseminated throughout the Near East. The earliest extant flood legend is found in the fragmentary Sumerian Eridu Genesis written in about the 17th century BCE. These fragments relate how an individual called Ziusudra was warned by the god Enki of the gods' decision to destroy mankind in a flood and how he was instructed to build a large boat. Ziusudra means "he saw life," and is a reference to the gift of immortality bestowed upon him by the gods after he was saved. The Atrahasis Epic is another version of this story and the hero of this story is called Atrahasis.
The most complete Mesopotamian flood story was found in Nineveh during excavations of the library of King Asshurbanipal, and is known as the Epic of Gilgamesh. A flood story comprises only a small part of this epic and is thought to be a version of the Atrahasis Epic.
The Epic of Gilgamesh is about a king called Gilgamesh and his quest for the secret of immortality following the death of a close male friend. Gilgamesh visits a man called Utnapishtim who has achieved immortality and discovers that he has gained immortality not by dint of wisdom but as a gift from the gods following his survival from a great flood.
Common to all these Mesopotamian flood stories is that the gods decide to bring a flood on mankind, that one person is saved on a ship, and that he brings animals on board to save them from the deluge. After the flood, the boat alights on top of a mountain, birds are released to determine if the land has dried, and the hero then emerges and offers sacrifices on his deliverance.
Cassuto considered these flood myths to be too important an aspect of ancient culture to be ignored by the Bible and they were therefore incorporated into the Bible after their polytheistic content had been erased. Sarma’s approach is somewhat different, and his approach is the one adopted in this essay. He viewed the Biblical Noah story as a polemic against Mesopotamian religious and political ideas. The Bible borrowed the outline of this popular and well-known pagan myth and changed key aspects as a means of promoting biblical ideas. In this way, new, revolutionary religious ideas were brought into the religious consciousness of the Near East.
Our first task, therefore, in understanding this polemic is to examine both the similarities and differences between the Noah story and the Atrahasis and Gilgamesh flood myths.
The competing ideologies of the Noah and Gilgamesh epics
Ancient myths were more than just fanciful stories. They were designed to answer fundamental questions asked by man such as how humanity arose, where do we come from, what happens after death, and whether it was possible to achieve immortality.
The ancient Mesopotamians believed that gods were immanent within nature and that conflict was a fundamental construct of the cosmos (see chapter 1 of this book). It followed, therefore, that success in this world could only be achieved by force. The Bible was in opposition not only to polytheism but to the entire pagan mindset that might makes right.
The Bible and Mesopotamian mythology also had very different views on the role of man. From their myths we learn that man was created by the gods to do the hard manual work that would otherwise have been the lot of the gods. Within this sociological framework, man possessed no intrinsic dignity or worth. By contrast, the Bible introduced the radical idea that man was created in the “image of God,” and almost on a level with God Himself. Elokim gave him dominion over the entire earth and he thereby achieved dignity, worth and purpose.
The Atrahasis myth introduced the question as to why sickness and famine exist in this world, and answered that natural disasters are engineered by the gods in order to achieve population control. Disturbing noise is a recurring theme in Mesopotamian mythology and perhaps reflects a lack of gathering places for boisterous youth in Mesopotamian towns and cities.
In the following passage from the Atrahasis epic, the god Ellil decides that man’s activities have become too disturbing and he therefore engineers a famine:
Twelve hundred years had not yet passed
And the country became too wide, the people too numerous,
The country was as noisy as a bellowing bull.
The gods grew restless at their clamor,
Ellil [head of the younger generation of Sumerian and Akkadian gods] had to listen to their noise,
He addressed the great gods:
“The noise of mankind has become too much for me,
I am losing sleep over their racket.
Cut off food supplies to the people!”4
When this fails to bring the desired result, he brings on a second famine. Only when this also proves unsuccessful do Ellil and the assembly of gods decide on a radical solution — the annihilation of mankind.
In contrast to the Atrahasis epic, the Gilgamesh myth provides no reason for the flood, which probably reflects its focus on Utnapishtim’s immortality rather than the flood’s beginnings. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy that the Gilgamesh myth found no reason to justify the whimsical decision of the gods. This is how matters are.
Contrast this with the Bible’s explanation as to why the eradication of mankind has become a necessity:
The earth also was corrupt before Elokim, and the earth was filled with unrighteousness (chomos) (חָמָס). And Elokim looked upon the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted its way upon the earth. And Elokim said to Noah: “The end of all flesh has come before me; for the earth is filled with unrighteousness (chomos) (חָמָס) through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth” (Genesis 6:11-13).
There is discussion among Jewish Biblical exegetes as to the meaning of the word chomos (חָמָס). It is often translated as violence, and in the Rabbinic tradition as robbery.5 However, a more literal translation is injustice.6 In the Book of Exodus, the Israelites are prohibited from being an “eid chomos” (עֵד חָמָס) —“a witness to injustice" (Exodus 23:1) Hence, the contrasting message of the Bible is that it was not the whims of gods that led to society’s destruction but the moral breakdown of mankind. When humanity was totally unjust, the earth could no longer support it.
The heroes of the Atrahasis and Gilgamesh epics possess no particular virtues. The only reason they are chosen for survival is that for unknown reasons they have attracted the attention of one of the gods, Ea, who indirectly warns the mortal Utnapishtim of the impending flood:
So, he repeated their speech to a reed hut,
“Reed hut, reed hut, brick wall, brick wall,
Listen, reed hut, and pay attention, brick wall.
Man of Shuruppak, son of Ubara-Tutu,
Dismantle your house, build a boat,
Leave possessions, search out living things.
Reject chattels and save lives!
Put aboard the seed of all living things into the boat.”7
By contrast, in a world designed for justice, only someone who is totally righteous will be saved. It is of interest, incidentally, that Ea never addresses Utnapishtim directly but only via a reed wall. This is not how YKVK functions, since He desires relationships:
Noah was a righteous man, perfect in his generations; Noah walked with Elokim (Genesis 6:9).
In this sentence, the Bible introduces the yardstick by which human behavior is to be judged, namely imitation of God. Referred to in the Bible as “walking with God” or “before whom I have walked” (Genesis 24:40), this will become the guiding principle for all Jewish ethics and subsequently those of Christianity:8
In the Gilgamesh myth, Utnapishtim responds to Ea’s advice by building a craft to save himself. Utnapishtim’s priorities are clear. First, he must save his worldly possessions, his silver and his gold, and only then his relatives:
I loaded her with everything there was,
Loaded her with all the silver,
Loaded her with all the gold
Loaded her with all the seed of living things, all of them
I put on board the boat all my kith and kin
Put on board cattle from open country, all kinds of craftsmen. . . .”9
Moreover, Utnapishtim will save himself in a boat, a craft over which he has control. Noah, on the other hand, is saved in an ark. An ark has no rudder or oars and Noah will be totally under the protection of YKVK for the duration of the flood. Moreover, Noah’s priorities are to save humanity and the animal kingdom. His material possessions do not even enter into consideration:
“. . . . But I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall enter the ark – you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you. And from all that lives, of all flesh, two of each shall you bring into the ark to keep alive with you; they shall be male and female. From each bird according to its kind, and from each animal according to its kind, and from each thing that creeps on the ground according to its kind, two of each shall come to you to keep alive. And as for you, take yourself of every food that is eaten and gather it to yourself, that it shall be food for you and for them.” Noah did according to everything Elokim commanded him, so did he (Genesis 6:18-22).
The pagan notion that nature is controlled by a multitude of gods is very apparent from this excerpt from the Gilgamesh myth describing the onset of the great flood they engineered:
When the first light of dawn appeared,
A black cloud came up from the base of the sky.
Adad [storm god, canal controller] kept rumbling inside it.
Shunish and Hanish [a minor god, servant of the weather-god) were marching ahead,
Marched as chamberlains [over] [?] mountain and country.
Erakal [probably the god of war, hunting and plague] pooled out the mooring [?] poles,
Ninurta [god of agricultural and pastoral fertility] marched on and made the weir(s) overflow.
The Anunnaki [deities of fertility and the Underworld] had to carry torches,
They lit up the land with their brightness.
The calm before the Storm-god came over the sky,
Everything light turned to darkness.10
By contrast, in the Bible there is but one God controlling all the forces of nature, namely the same God who brought about all of creation:
In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, in the second month, the seventeenth day of the month, the same day were all the fountains of the great deep burst forth and the windows of heaven were opened.” (Genesis 7:11)
And whereas God is able to manipulate the forces of nature according to His will, the gods are horrified at the forces they have unleashed:
Even the gods were afraid of the flood-weapon.
They withdrew; they went up to the heaven of Anu.
The gods cowered, like dogs crouched by an outside wall.
Ishtar screamed like a woman giving birth;
The mistress of the gods, sweet of voice, was wailing
“Has that time really returned to clay,
Because I spoke evil in the gods’ assembly? 11
I have excerpted this next section of the Gilgamesh myth so that not only differences but also similarities between it and the biblical story can be appreciated. The precise details are somewhat different between the two accounts but the broad outlines are very similar.
The hero’s boat alights on a mountain, a bird is sent out to ascertain if there is dry land, since this was the way that sailors assessed for dry land in those days, and he then offers sacrifices in thanksgiving for his delivery.
I looked for banks, for limits to the sea.
Areas of land were emerging everywhere.
The boat had come to rest on Mount Mimush.
The mountain Mimush held the boat fast and did not let it budge.
The first and second day the mountain Mimush held the boat fast and did not let it budge.
The third and fourth day the mountain Mimush held the boat fast and did not let it budge. . . ..
When the seventh day arrived,
I put out and released a dove.
The dove went; it came back
For no perching place was visible to it, and it turned around.
I put out and released a swallow.
The swallow went; it came back.
For no perching place was visible to it, and it turned around.
I put out and released a raven.
The raven went and saw the waters receding.
And it ate, preened, lifted its tail and did not turn around.
Then I put everything out to the four winds, and I made a sacrifice,
Set out a surqinnu-offering upon the mountain peak,
Arranged the jars seven and seven;
Into the bottom of them I poured essences of reeds, pine and myrtle.
The gods smelt the fragrance,
The gods smelt the pleasant fragrance,
The gods like flies gathered over the sacrifice.”11
\Note the marked difference between the pagan approach to sacrifice described in the last three lines of this passage and that of the Bible. The difference in wording is subtle, but its implications are huge.
In the Mesopotamian concept of sacrifice the gods physically imbibe the burnt food. In the excerpt above from the Gilgamesh myth, the gods have been deprived of food for the duration of the flood and are hungry; hence they gather over the sacrifice “like flies”.
God, on the other hand, does not eat man’s sacrifices. Nevertheless, He does smell the burnt flesh and appreciates the sacrifice. The anthropomorphism “to smell the sweet odor” is found a number of times in the Torah:
Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and took of every pure animal and of every pure bird, and offered burnt offerings on the altar. And YKVK smelled the sweet odor and YKVK said in His heart. . . .” (Genesis 8:20-21).
In sum, it is difficult to ignore the fact that the broad outlines of the Noah and his flood story and the Gilgamesh myth are very similar. Nevertheless, the details in the Torah reflect a Jewish perspective. In other words, the Bible used a story with which people were familiar to promote new religious ideas and to indirectly critique the Weltanschauung of ancient Mesopotamia. This will have momentous implications for the future progress of mankind.
Biblical optimism versus Mesopotamian pessimism
No surveys are available to tell us how people in ancient Mesopotamia viewed their lives. It was probably little different from today. There would have been times of joy as well as of anxiety and sorrow. Nevertheless, scholars have noted that Mesopotamian myths reflect a profound pessimism permeating their society. Procreation and human enterprise were gambles that could run counter to the whims of the gods. Survival, not progress, was the most that could be hoped for. The Atrahasis epic, for example, reflects the uncertainty of human existence and the realization that humanity is but a plaything in the hands of the gods. Such a philosophy would have had an extremely inhibiting effect on the cultural and scientific progress of Mesopotamian society.
By contrast, the message of the Noah story is that the world is founded on the basis of justice and that the world we live in is a rational one. Because of these foundational beliefs, Judaism will become a potent force for human progress.
In the Gilgamesh myth, the wind god Ellil has become reconciled to the fact that Ea has outwitted the other gods and saved two human beings. He is therefore prepared to grant Utnapishtim and his wife immortality. However, as a consequence of this, they will need to be placed far from the rest of society:
Ellil came up into the boat,
And seized my hand and led me up.
He led up my woman and made her kneel down at my side.
He touched our foreheads, stood between us, blessed us:
“Until now Ut-napishtim was mortal,
But henceforth Ut-napishtim shall dwell far off, at the mouth of the rivers.”12
There is not a glimmer of optimism in this part of the Utnapishtim story. Utnapishtim has achieved immortality but only by dint of good luck and perhaps good looks. There is no commitment on the part of the gods to prevent another flood and there is little hope that anyone other than Utnapishtim will have such good fortune in the future.
By contrast, the message of the first chapter of Genesis is that procreation, and not population control, is the will of Elokim:
God blessed them [Adam and Eve] and God said to them; “Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea, the bird of the sky, and every living thing that moves on the earth” (Genesis 1:28).
Nevertheless, in sending a global flood, Elokim has almost abrogated an implied commitment made to Adam and Eve, namely that filling the earth is part of the Divine plan. The fate of this commitment will now depend on Noah and his family:
“But I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall enter the ark – you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you” (Genesis 6:18).
And once they left the ark:
God blessed Noah and his sons and He said to them: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the land. The fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth and upon every bird of the heavens, in everything that moves on earth, and in all the fish of the sea; in your hand they are given” (Genesis 9:1).
However, Man can only repopulate the world with confidence if he has confidence in the Deity. At this stage in the narrative, the Bible introduces a radical idea in religious thought —that God is prepared to make a binding commitment to mankind and formalize this commitment as a “covenant.” Moreover, this covenant will be immortalized by a sign, namely a rainbow joining heaven to earth. A unilateral obligation such as this on the part of the gods would have been unthinkable in pagan thought:
“And I will confirm my covenant with you: Never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of the flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” And Elokim said: “This is the sign of the covenant that I give between you and every living being that is with you, to generations forever. I have set my rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between Me and the earth.” (Genesis 9:11-13).
In our day and age, most people take it as a given that the world will not collapse around us, and we have international organizations, the promises of science, and the covenant of Noah to allay our fears. However, prior to the Bible none of this existed. It was the Noah story and the covenant with Elokim that promised an unimpeded future for the world and thereby provided the underpinnings for the material and religious progress of mankind.
Finally, a radical idea that many will find difficult to accept. The Torah, and especially its opening chapters, can only be fully understood with reference to Mesopotamian mythology. But have we Jews not managed without mythology for thousands of years? This is true. Nevertheless, if one wishes to fully understand the ideas governing society that the Torah is trying to promote, then mythology is the literature to turn to for understanding the comparisons the Torah is making.
References
1. Midrash Raba 33:6
2. The Flood in Understanding Genesis by Nahum S Sarna, p37. The Heritage of Biblical Israel, Schocken Books, New York, First paperback edition 1970.
3. Section One, The Flood in A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, Part Two. From Noah to Abraham by U Cassuto, p3. First English Edition, The Magnes Press, P.O. Box 7695, Jerusalem 91076, Israel.
4. Atrahasis tablet II, SBV iii in The Flood, Gilgamesh and Other in Myths from Mesopotamia by Stephanie Dalley, p21, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.
5. Rashi to Genesis 6:11 and Midrash Rabbah, Genesis XXXI:1.
6. Act One, The Punishment in A Commentary on the Book of Genesis, Part Two. From Noah to Abraham, V19-XI32 by U Cassuto, p52, First English Edition, The Magnes Press, P.O. Box 7695, Jerusalem 91076, Israel.
7. Gilgamesh Tablet XI in The Flood, Gilgamesh and Other in Myths from Mesopotamia by Stephanie Dalley, i, p110, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.
8. Maimonides Mishnah Torah, Hilchot De’ot 1:6.
9. Gilgamesh, tablet XI in Myths from Mesopotamia. Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh and Others by Stephanie Dalley, ii, p111, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.
10. Gilgamesh, tablet XI in Myths from Mesopotamia. Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh and Others by Stephanie Dalley, ii, p112, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.
11. Gilgamesh, tablet XI in Myths from Mesopotamia. Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh and Others by Stephanie Dalley, iii, p113, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.
12. Gilgamesh, tablet XI in Myths from Mesopotamia. Creation, The Flood, Gilgamesh and Others by Stephanie Dalley. iv, p115, Oxford University Press, Revised edition 2000.