compositions used the same literary convention, “a five point outline,” consisting of (1) creation: man, (2) first threat, (3) second thre

. He holds that "the primary theme of Atrahasis is the development and then the maintenance of the boundary between the gods and humans" (1981:200). According to him, the key to the interpretation of the “Atra-Hasis Epic” is in the human activity, indicated by the “noise” and the “tumult” that “rob Enlil of sleep and prompt him to command the plague, droughts, and then the flood.” The “crime” was that ofscheming humans noisily planning ways to alter the divinely established order so that their status might become something more than workers for the gods (1981: 204).7Oden therefore holds that the Tower of Babel tale (Gn 11:1–9), in which human aspirations to divine status are so transparent, seems to be “the visual equivalent of the auditory assault of Atrahasis” (1981: 210–11).Whether overpopulation or the guilt of man brought the Flood is still a lively issue in interpreting the epic, as Moran recently pointed out (1987). The similarities between the Genesis account and the “Atra-Hasis Epic” do not support the idea that Genesis is a direct borrowing from the Mesopotamian but do indicate that Mesopotamian materials could have served as models for Genesis 1–11, as Jacobsen holds (1994:141). P.D. Miller also admits that "there were Mesopotamian models that anticipate the structure of Genesis 1–11 as a whole" (1994:150).K.A. Kitchen notes a similar outline, namely “creation-flood-later times,” and a common theme, namely “creation, crisis, continuance of man,” of the “primeval proto-history” in the “Atra-Hasis Epic,” the Sumerian Flood story, and the Sumerian King List, as well as in the Genesis account. He recognizes here a common literary heritage, formulated in each case in Mesopotamia in the early 2nd millennium BC (1977: 31). However, there are also many differences between the Mesopotamian traditions and the Genesis account, in addition to the basic concepts of divine-human relationship. According to Jacobsen, the P source of Genesis has a rather pessimistic view of existence, introducing moral judgment on man’s sinfulness, while the “Eridu Genesis” holds “an affirmative and optimistic view” (1994:142). Whether the Genesis viewpoint is pessimistic or not, however, depends on the way scholars treat Genesis 1–11 as a literary whole, a subject to which I will return later.Jacobsen takes the “Eridu Genesis,” as well as the Biblical account (P), neither as a history nor as a myth; he assigns them to a “mytho-historical” genre, since they both have a chronological arrangement along a line of time, with a chain of cause and effect, and show interest in numbers and chronology (1994: 140–141). Miller is supportive of Jacobsen’s view, since the “Eridu Genesis” and “the full shape of Genesis 1–11” (not just the P account) share both “substantial content with typical myths of the ancient Near East” and “features that remind one more of historical chronicles (1994: 148).



Before discussing the theme of primeval protohistory,
I should like to turn our attention to the other literary aspect, namely the structure of Genesis 1–11 as a whole.Literary Structure. Not only does comparative evidence point to the adequacy of treating both the Creation and the Flood together as a unified literary work, but the recent emphasis on the holistic approach8 to “the text in its final form”9 or “the text as it stands” (Oden 1981: 211) leads us to investigate the literary theme and structure of Genesis 1–11 as a whole. Before one seeks the theme of Genesis 1–11, one must decide its structure. For this, the toledot*-formula of Genesis is indicative of the narrative structure in the mind of the author/editor. Thompson’s recent study of the toledot-structure of Genesis is in this regard very important, though his view of a sharp break between Genesis 1–4 and Genesis 5ff. (“The Book of the Toledoth of Adam”) is rather overemphasized (1987: chap. 3). Thompson’s view was most recently challenged by Hess, who argued that “the literary form of Genesis 1–2 is intended to parallel the genealogical doublets of chaps. 4–5 and 10–11” (1990: 150, n. 23).The major problem in deciding the theme and structure of Genesis 1–11 is determining the precise terminus of the “primeval history.” The following suggestions have been made.Creation ­> Flood (1:1–9:29). In the light of the literary structure of “Creation-Rebellion-Flood” in the “Atra-Hasis Epic,” some scholars have suggested that the primeval history in Genesis stretches from the creation story through the end of the Flood story, namely Genesis 1–9, rather than Genesis 1–11.10 Since the end of chap. 9 follows up the description of Noah in 5:31 and completes the full description of him in the same manner that the other nine patriarchs are described in chap. 5, it is likely that the Flood story in chaps. 6–9 is meant to be a part of a larger literary unit that begins at 5:1, that is, “The Book of the Toledot of Adam.” The Flood story is, so to speak, a detailed description of Noah and his life inserted into the framework of the genealogy of Genesis 5.11Creation ­> Babel (1:1–11:9). J.M. Sasson recently explained the Tower of Babel story as “a clue to the redactional structuring” of Genesis 1–11. According to him, Genesis 1:1–11:9 is divided into two parts, “from Creation to Noah (10 generations)” and “from the Flood to Abram (10 generations)”; just as the Nephilim story (6:1–8) serves as a concluding remark for the first part, the Babel story (11:1–9) comes at the end of the second part (1994: 456). This division at the end of 6:8 accords with the Biblical toledot-structure; up to that verse the section is “The Book of the Toledot of Adam,” while the section after 6:9 is “The Toledot of Noah.” Coats also thinks that the primeval saga ends with the tale about the tower, since the tale “binds off the series of narratives about the people of the world” (1983: 36). For a different reason, Oden also considers the conclusion of the primeval history to be Genesis 11:1–9, where “human aspirations to divine status are so transparent” (1981: 211).However, the end of the second part, 11:9, does not accord with the end of “The Toledot of Noah” (9:29), though 6:8 does accord with the end of “The Toledot of Adam.” Also, in Sasson’s scheme, the reason for placing Abram in the tenth generation is not clearly demonstrated, since his structure lacks both the genealogical list (11:10–26) and the toledot of Terah (11:27ff.), which refer to Abram himself. Before these sections Abram’s name does not even appear.Creation ­> Terah (1:1–11:26).12 Some recognize the “Creation-list Flood-list” pattern in Genesis 1–11 and note that just as Noah is the tenth generation from AdRosetta Stone Chinese

Accepted location of Syria as the site of the rebellion is in stark contrast to the opinion of Vandersleyen, who states that “the first campaign

encountered a Mitannian spy during the concluding phase of A1, making Aharoni’s conclusion quite believable. When Amenhotep II was passing through the Sharon Plain, a messenger of the King of Mitanni, called the “Prince of Naharin” here, was captured by the Egyptians. This messenger was carrying with him a letter in the form of a clay tablet that hung from his neck like a necklace, which undoubtedly dealt with matters that concerned the Mitanni-inspired rebellion (Ibid.). All of this demonstrates the great importance of this vassal-rebellion, both to Egypt and to Mitanni, as Mitanni was seeking to usurp Egypt’s stranglehold on the prestigious position of the ANE’s dominant super-power. In contrast to all of this international intrigue revolving around A1, A2 was far less significant on an international level and far less illustrious, as will be seen momentarily. 109. Aharoni and Avi-Yonah, The Macmillan Atlas, 34. 110. Grimal, History of Ancient Egypt, 219. 111. Pritchard, ANET, 246. 112. Examples of campaigns launched in spring are plentiful: (1) Thutmose III’s first Asiatic campaign, as he arrived at his first destination (the border fortress of Tjel) on ca. 20 April 1484 BC; (2) Amenhotep II’s first Asiatic campaign, as he arrived at his first destination (Shamash-Edom) on ca. 15 May 1452 BC; (3) Raamses II and his battalions of infantry and squads of chariotry, who departed for Kadesh in late April of ca. 1274 BC (Kenneth A. Kitchen, Pharaoh Triumphant: The Life and Times of Ramesses II [Warminster, Eng.: Aris & Phillips, 1982], 53); (4) Nabopolassar’s expedition against mountain tribes in the month of Sivan, or ca. May/June of 607 BC (D. J. Wiseman, Chronicles of the Chaldean Kings [London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1961], 65); and (5) Nebuchadnezzar’s expedition to Syria in Sivan of the first full year of his reign, or ca. 604 BC (Ibid., 28, 69). 113. Der Manuelian, Amenophis II, 59. As proven above, “seventh year” should be corrected to “third year.” 114. Vandersleyen, L’Egypte, vol. 2, 321. 115. Ibid., 324–325. 116. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel, 163. 117. Ibid., 164. 118. Ibid. 119. Ibid., 165. 120. Ibid., 164. 121. John MacArthur, The MacArthur Study Bible (Nashville: Word, 1997), 198. 122. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel, 408. 123. A notable exception to this trend is the Hyksos, the western Asiatics who overtook Egypt and controlled her commerce. The Royal Turin Canon, a papyrus that derives from Ramesside times and reflects a kinglist that was begun during the Middle Kingdom, fixes a 108-year rule (ca. 1668 to 1560 BC) for the Hyksos (Ibid., 107), who were driven out by the native Egyptians of the 17th Dynasty. Yet such documentation about the Hyksos is warranted, as they played a prominent role in Egyptian history, having produced pharaohs who ruled in place of the native Egyptians. Moreover, when Moses wrote that the Egyptians feared the possibility that the Hebrews “will multiply, and in the event of war, they will also join themselves to those who hate us, and fight against us and depart from the land” (Exod 1:10), he probably was referring to the Hyksos, who just beforehand had retreated to southern Canaan after their expulsion. 124. Kitchen, Reliability of the OT, 11. The Biblical text to which Kitchen alludes is 2 Chr 14:9–15. 125. Aharoni and Avi-Yonah, The Macmillan Atlas, 34. 126. Hallo and Simpson, Ancient Near East, 262. 127. Grimal, History of Ancient Egypt, 218. 128. Breasted, Ancient Records, vol. 2, 310. 129. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel, 408. 130. Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22; Pritchard, ANET, 247. 131. Pritchard laments, “Even though two of the figures give questionable readings, no clear alternatives will supply the total given on the stele” (Pritchard, ANET, 247). Although Pritchard does not elaborate, the “questionable readings” most likely are the 36,300 Kharu and the 30,652 family members of the Nagasuites/Neges. But since this part of the stele shows no sign of damage or repair, there is no reason to doubt these numbers. 132. “The total given, 89,600, is actually wrong, the correct total being 101,128!” (Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22). 133. Ibid., 21; Pritchard, ANET, 239, 246; Hoffmeier, “The Annals of Thutmose III,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 12. These are the only campaigns of Thutmose III that list the amount of captives taken. 134. As Shea notes, “While some have questioned the very high number given here, if one looks at the needs for state labor right after the exodus, the number does not look so high after all” (Shea, “Amenhotep II as Pharaoh,” 47). 135. Ibid.; Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22. The Prince of Shanhar, or Biblical Shinar, is to be equated with the King of Babylon (Pritchard, ANET, 247). 136. Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22. 137. Barry J. Beitzel, “Habiru,” in ISBE, vol. 2, 588, 589. 138. Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22. SA.GAZ, the Sumerian logographic equivalent of Habiru, and its variants are found in cuneiform texts from ca. 2500 BC to the 11th century BC. In light of this early attestation, many are unwilling to associate the Apiru of the 15th century BC with the Hebrews. However, Abram was known as a Hebrew in the 21st century BC (Gen 14:13), so the solution to the dilemma is that the two non-guttural consonants found in the triconsonantal root of ‘bri, the exact consonants that appear in Akkadian and Ugaritic (br, possibly meaning “cross over, go beyond”), are also found in “Eber” (Gen 10:21), the ancestor of Abram from whom the word undoubtedly derives. Thus Abram is one of numerous Eberite peoples, all of whom are known as Habiru due to their retention of Eber’s ancient namesake (R. F. Youngblood, “Amarna Tablets,” in ISBE, vol. 1 [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979], 108; Barry J. Beitzel, “Hebrew (People),” in ISBE, vol. 2, 657). 139. Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22. 140. Pritchard, ANET, 247. 141. Bryant G. Wood, “One Thousand Years Missing from Biblical History? A Review of a New Theory,” Bible and Spade 6:4 (Aut 1993), 98. 142. Grimal, History of Ancient Egypt, 219. 143. Aharoni and Avi-Yonah, The Macmillan Atlas, 34. 144. Hoffmeier, Israel in Egypt, 124. 145. Hoffmeier, “Memphis and Karnak Stelae,” in Context of Scripture, vol. 2, 22. 146. Yigael Yadin, Hazor: The Head of all those Kingdoms, The 1970 Schweich Lectures of the British Academy (London: Oxford University Press, 1972), 7–8. 147. Ibid., 8. 148. Amarna Letters, ed. and trans. Moran, 290, with modifications according to Yadin, Hazor: The Head, 8. 149. Ibid., 235, with modifications according to Yadin, Hazor: The Head, 8. 150. For a fuller treatment of the destructions of Hazor described in Joshua



So You Want To Be An Archaeologist?
Rosetta Stone Spanish