Assyrian Creation Story

Enuma Elish

When on High

Karl Evans


From about the time of Ezekiel
Adapted by Dr. Karl Evans
from the work of Dr. Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testaments, and many others.

Sometimes we wonder what difference it makes
What religion we follow,
What beliefs we hold.

Does it matter whether we are Methodist,
Or even Christian, or Muslim or Parsi?
Perhaps there is no difference?

Perhaps it makes no difference what we believe.
Perhaps it makes no difference why we are created,
Or what we believe about our creator.
Perhaps it makes no difference,
The state of the mind of the Creator
At the moment of creation.
We say that sometimes.
But I don't know.
I don't know.

Now our nation is locked into a battle with other nations,
Nations from which our forefathers sprang,
Nations that was the birthplace of Abraham,
The bonds-places of Isaiah, and of Ezekiel,
the home of Babylon and its tower.

When Ezekiel and the people were in slavery there,
Two and a half millennia ago
Ezekiel saw the erosion of the faith.
He saw the ritual
That awful ritual,
That defined the lives of the people of Babylon
on the first day of the
New Year on the tower, that awful place,
the ziggurat,
the holy place of the Babylonians.

Thousands of Babylonians sang and chanted
While standing on the steps of the Ziggurat.
Thousands stood waiting, waiting and listening
For the blessing of the Story of Creation,
For the blessing of being Babylonian.

Ezekiel was confounded by what he saw.
He saw that all the youth of Israel were tempted to join the
Babylonians on the slopes of the Ziggurat.
He knew the story that would be told there,
About the creation.

But there would be no Yahweh
No ancient Lord of Israel,
No remembering the faith
of the Wandering Arameans
who left this place fifteen hundred years before.

Ezekiel knew the citizens of Babylon,
And all those who wished to turn their backs
On the faith of their fathers,
the ancient ones,
Would be there to become as one of the Babylonians
By listening to this story.

They would become as one of the Babylonians,
Free to own land,
Free to marry those cute Babylonian girls,
Free to get a loan at the bank,
By going to the Ziggurat on the first day of the New Year,
By listening to the story,
And allowing the drops of ritual blood to fall on them.

When the children of Israel
Stood on the terraces of the Ziggurat,
This is the story they would hear
That would change them from Israelites
To Babylonians.

Let it be its own witness.
Let it reveal to you the truths of Yahweh and the Creation,
Let it reveal by speaking what is not the truth.
Let it speak by its lies and deceits. Hear,
and understand in your heart
the struggle of Ezekiel.

When on High the heavens had not been named,
Before the fog and mist was brought to order,
Before firm ground had been called forth and named,
There were only two--
By name,
Apsu, the sire of all that was to be,
And Mother Tiamat, she who bore all life in her womb.

The fresh waters of Apsu, the begetter,
And the marine waters of Mother Tiamat,
Commingled together as a single body,
There was no separation between them.
There was no firmness anywhere.
There was not so much as marsh land
In the mist that was their being.

Then it happened that the gods were formed within them,
Gods and goddesses were brought forth,
Being named and ordered by Apsu and Mother Tiamat.

The first of them were formed, Anshar and Kishar by name,
Called before all others.
And Anshar and Kishar lived long and well.

Their child was Anu, the equal of Anshar and Kishar,
The equal of all before him.
The Heir-child of Anu was Nudimmud,
Not the equal of his fathers,
But the master of his fathers
And his fathers' fathers.

Nudimmud was one of broad wisdom,
Understanding,
Mighty in strength.
He was mightier by far than his grandfather, Anshar.
Nudimmud had no rival among the other gods, his brothers.

Nudimmud was leader among the gods,
Chief among the pack, chief at the party.
Nudimmud and his brothers ran and shouted back and forth
Among the mists of all that was.
One day they partied and laughed,
On another day they fought and cried the cries of battle.
Every day they were loud,
Strong in their disturbance of Tiamat, the mother god..

By their loudness and their laughter and their youthful cries
They disturbed the mood of Tiamat as they surged
Back and forth, back and forth.

Apsu, the father of their fathers,
Chided them strongly for their loudness.
"Pipe down in there!
Have a little respect for your elders."
Tiamat was beside herself at their ways,
These young gods and goddesses, their seed.
Their actions were loathsome to her.
Unsavory were their ways,
They were overbearing in their manner,
Rebellious children.

Then Apsu called his wizard, saying
"You who makes my spirit sing,
Let us go talk to Tiamat!"
Together they went to the beautiful Tiamat,
The mother of all gods and goddesses.

Apsu spoke words of anger and bitterness.
"I find their ways repugnant and stupid.
There is no relief during the day
And I cannot rest by night.

I will destroy them,
I will wreck their ways
That quiet may be restored.
Let us have rest!" said Apsu.

Hearing this, Tiamat raged at Apsu.
"What is this?
Should we destroy all that we have built?
These are our children!
We will be kind and gentle with them."

Then the wizard spoke to Apsu.
His advice was evil and self-serving.
"Destroy them and their mutinous ways.
Then you will have relief both by day and by night."

And Apsu's face grew red with rage at what he planned
Against his sons and daughters.

Now, whatever Apsu and Tiamat plotted between them
Was repeated to the gods, the children of Apsu and Tiamat.
When the child-gods heard these things,
They became frightened,
Then fell into silence and remained speechless.

But one of the gods, surpassing all others in wisdom,
Experienced in power and in resourcefulness,
His name was Ea,
He saw through their scheme.
Ea designed a master design, bold and daring,
And by his powers set it into the whole scheme of being so That none could set it aside or depart from it.

Ea made Apsu sleep the non-waking sleep,
The sleep of too much wine..
With Apsu asleep, the wizard was unable to stir,
For his being resulted only from the mind of Apsu.
After Ea chained Apsu,
Ea took the crown from the head of Apsu
And placed it on his own head.
He took the cosmic halo
And wrapped it around his own brow.

Having thus bound Apsu,
Ea slew his father's father.

Then there was peace for a time.

Ea and his Bride, Damkina,
Dwelled in peace in the holy house
Built on the rounded belly,
the top of the body of Apsu,
The body on which we stand today.
This body, the Great Height of Babylon.

Now, in this holy house,
The sacred home on the holy hill,
Was created a god,
The most able and wise of the gods.

Marduk was his name.
Nursed by the most becoming of the goddesses,
Marduk was rendered perfect in awesomeness,
Strong in his walk, alluring in his figure,
Sparkling the lift of his eyes.

There was no disfigurement to see or to control him by.
Four were his eyes, four were his ears,
Seeing all things and hearing all things.
When he moved his lips,
Fire blazed forth.

Damkina his mother cried out
"My Son! My Son!
My Son, the Sun of the Heavens!"

The child-gods looked among themselves
For a champion,
A hero to battle the awesome Tiamat, their mother.

And Marduk was named to be King,
Conferred with scepter, throne and robe.
They said to Marduk,
"Go and cut off the life of Tiamat.
Sever her into many pieces!
May the winds bear her parts to places unknown!"

Then Marduk laid his face to disturb Tiamat,
The mother of gods,
To wrest from her the last knot of power.

Marduk called forth the storms to disturb Tiamat,
For the gods have no sleep in the storm.

And the words came to Tiamat,
"Watch what Marduk is doing!
When they slew Apsu, your lover,
You did not aid him but lay still.

Because you lay still, and did not stir,
Your lover Apsu was destroyed.
Now Marduk has brought the mighty storm to disturb you,
And there is no rest.
There is none other. You are left alone.
Let Apsu, your lover, be avenged!"

So Tiamat chose from among her own assembled gods,
Her first-born,
A council for battle, and a leader.
This leader was one Kingu, given all power in council.
"Your command shall be unchangeable,
Your word shall endure."
Tiamat set Kingu up as her son, her heir,
In command of all things.
Kingu began to prepare for battle,
Calling from all the council of Tiamat their advice.

From Mother Hubur, who fashions all things,
Tiamat gathered matchless weapons.
Only Mother Hubur could make them,
These master tools of violence.

Tiamat bore monster-serpents with sharp teeth
And long fangs, filled with venom.
Tiamat clothed roaring dragons with terror,
Making them like gods,
So that all who look upon them will die.
She set up the Viper,
The Dragon,
And the Sphinx.
She called for the Great Lion,
The Mad Dog,
And the Scorpion-man,
The Centaur,
Weapons that spare not.

Thus Tiamat prepared to avenge her lover, Apsu,
To make her own peace by destroying her own children.

And thus it came that the battle to be fought,
Came to be fought between Tiamat, the mother of gods,
And Marduk,
Merodach-bashan, to those who read the Old Testament.
It was a battle long on power and on brutality,
A battle not ever to be matched
among those who survived the first..

Marduk and Tiamat fought with demons and dragons,
Powers and beasts,
With sharp teeth and clashing fang.

With loud roars,
Marduk threw lightning bolts through the skies at Tiamat.
With shrieks of anger,
Tiamat tore at Marduk
With her Scorpion-man
And with her Mad Dog.

Then at last Tiamat opened her mouth with a rage,
To the roots of her legs she shook,
Casting leave of her senses.

Tiamat prepared to consume Marduk,
So wide open was her mouth.

Marduk seized the moment,
The decisive moment of the universe,
Drove the tornado into her mouth
So she could not close it.
Her body was distended by the force of the wind.
He slew her with an arrow formed of the lightning,
A flash of fire, a spear formed of the heat of the sun.

Casting her down.
Marduk slew her there.
Marduk slit her body open as a clamshell,
Half of which he posted as the earth,
Holding the waters of Apsu and Tiamat.
Half the body of Tiamat
Marduk made to be the sky.
Marduk named the years and the days.
Marduk set up the seasons and the constellations.
He set the moon ablaze at night.

And then Marduk announce his grandest plan.
"Blood I will mass, and cause bones to be.
I will establish a savage, Man shall be his name.
He will do the work for the gods,
That the gods will be at ease.
For we are gods, and labor should not be our lot.
But one of the gods must die
That the rest of us might live.

Ea, the father of Marduk, spoke to Marduk,
Pleased by the plan for the relief of the gods.
"Let but one of the gods be handed over.
He alone shall perish that mankind may be fashioned.
Let us call the gods into assembly,
And let the god who is guilty before all be handed over
That the others may endure."

In the assembly, the gods cried out,
“It was not I!
It was Kingu!
It was Kingu who brought the uprising,
Who caused the battle!"

They brought poor Kingu before Ea
Who pronounced the guilt
And the condemnation of Kingu.
They opened his blood vessels
And as his blood fell freely in drops to the earth,
Full of the very passion of the gods,
The vision of the gods for tomorrow,
Full of the power of the gods,
The blood was fashioned into humankind,
By the addition of the ways of death
And uncertain knowledge
And humankind became a reality
For the service of the gods.
For the eternal service of the gods.

And it came to pass that humankind,
To this day,
Is called to serve the gods.

Humankind is named from the blood of Kingu
To plow the fields and irrigate the crops,
To harvest the crops,
To build temples for the glory of the gods,
And to bring to these temples
The best of the produce of the fields
That the gods might be satisfied
And rage and battle no more.

And when the old year and all persons die,
The blood of Kingu will scatter upon the earth,
And you will come again to life
And yet again will the gods be satisfied
By your labors.

And as the priest finished reciting the story of the creation,
He gathered up his container of wine,
Shaking it against the skies,
Letting the drops of blood-red liquid fall among the crowd
Gathered on the slopes of the Tower.
And the drops were brought into new life in the persons on whom they fell,
New life to serve the gods,
The citizenship of the nation,
For the service of the gods.

Let no one assume, now,
That the people of Iraq still share that ancient myth.
Today, even the people of Iraq,
Devout Muslims, many,
Strong in their faith,
Have a creation story that is different--
Quite different--
From the one I have just told you.
They have turned their backs on this old story--
Indeed, most of them abandoned it long ago.

Let us consider the new story they have chosen
To establish the relationship between human beings and god,
The god they know as Allah.

Let me read to you just a bit of this story.

In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth,
And the earth was without form and void, adrift in the mist.
And darkness was upon the face of the deep waters. ......

Sound Familiar? It should.

The Scriptures of Islam and the Scriptures
Of Judaism and Christianity are together
Until we reach the story of Hagar and Ishmael.

Then let me read to you something that is said later.
Coming from the covenant God makes with the People,
Who live out this story of life and covenant.

God loved the people of the world so much
that he gave the life of his only son
That whoever lives and has faith with him
might not perish but have eternal life.

The Brothers

The Brothers

(all rights reserved)

Karl Evans

O Cain. Sad Cain.
Cain who was born first of the brothers.
Cain who knew the blessings of birthright and name.

Now, without doubt,
Cain was a good man.
Hardworking farmer,
Backbreaking labor,
Breaking up the virgin earth to plant seeds and chop weeds and harvest crops.

Not a loud-mouthed braggart as some would suppose,
But a man of steady heart and bronzed arms and dusty hair and tired muscles.

But crops are slow in coming to glory,
Slow to turn the sun and sweat to gold and green.
Except for new potatoes the first fruits of the soil are rarely good,
rarely sweet and choice.
Rather, it is the fruit of the peak of the harvest
That wins the prize at the county fair and turns the mouths of the satisfied to drooling.

But the response one is called to make to the Creator is to bring to the Maker the first fruits.

And Abel. Doomed Abel.
Abel, the second son,
The one with nothing at stake.
The one with no birthright,
No land, no home.

Abel is an exile, One with no fields.
One with no fields becomes a hunter,
A worker with roaming animals, a shepherd by necessity.
Abel wanders with his flock of sheep
And when the sheep brings forth a lamb Abel brings that little bleating, nestling, suckling pile of skin and bones to God as offering.

Have you ever seen a day-old lamb?
Have you ever held one in your arms--
Had it look into your face with innocence and beauty?
Felt its pounding heart against your own?

You know, then, the heart of God.
Who among the loving gods could put the lamb down?
Who could ignore the curly wool,
The wondering eyes,
the warm body--
And turn then to nestling a sheaf of wheat,
an ear of corn,
a box of apples,
a bale of hay?

O Cain, sad Cain.
Your best has been brought side by side with that of baby brother.
Baby brother gets the blue,
You get the red.
Just the red.

No matter, Cain, that you have the name and the birthright
And the fields and the muscles.
No matter that Abel has only a few sheep and a bow and arrow.

Cain, sad Cain,
Your brother has the spotlight,
That which is yours of right.
No matter your crops are growing and yet to come on in beauty.
No matter the hard work ahead that will feed you both through the long cold winter.

No matter Abel is your brother,
Shared the same womb,
Suckled the same breasts.
Your brother dies at your hand,
O Cain, sad Cain.

All is lost.
Now you have no brother, Cain.
More than this,
You have no land, your home
Your firepit shall lie in ruins, sad Cain.

But more!
From the face of God you shall be hidden, Cain,
From seeing the smile,
From hearing the laugh.
And those hands, Cain--
Those hands that formed you from the clay

and laid you in your mother's womb--
You shall not lay into those hands your first-fruits of the ground!

Shall you be forever nothing, sad Cain?
But no!
Sad Cain, I promise 'tis not so!
Though you be adrift from fields of right
The God of Grace goes with you.
As your parents did before you
You have chosen to be cut off, sad Cain,
cut off from the face of God!

But who is that beside you, Cain?
Who is that who reaches out the hand for yours?
By your side moves the face of God,
Beloved Cain;
You shall not be cut off!

And is this not reward enough already,
That God is yet among us?
That added fame and wealth need not be sought,
For God is yet among us?
Bury your face in the shoulder, Cain,
Cry the tears of Joy.
Let your heart beat gently, Cain,
For God is yet among us.

Stories That Heal

Welcome to the Bible Story Blog. Over fifty years of amateur and professional ministry I have told many stories. That is what you will find here. Stories. I hope you will read and respond to them. I appreciate whatever you have to say. When I throw the words to the winds, they no longer belong to me, but to the hearer or reader.

When these words are in your mind and heart, you will respond somehow to them. You are a slave to them. They will change you somehow.

So read, think, enjoy, and let me know how the story shapes your life. The only question that matters is how the story shapes your life. Do not ask about historical narratives. Only make comments from your own heart about validity, meaning and value.

The question of validity is first. Does the story reflect the truth of the world in some way? How? Second, what does this truth mean to you, to your relationships with others, to your image of yourself? Third, how strong is this meaning, and does it really change you? These are the only questions to ask of a story.

Karl Evans


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