Re-Creation (Noah’s Ark)

Ryan Scott Carrell - August 25, 2025

We’ve been learning over the past few weeks about how the Bible stories we read today came about because of a critical moment in history called the Babylonian Exile. During this exile, about 2,500 years ago, the people from Jerusalem were violently removed from their home in Jerusalem and forced to live in the city of Babylon, about 900 miles away.

As they found themselves living in a foreign land, they had to wrestle with the reality of their displacement and with the beliefs of their new neighbors. Those beliefs were often shared through stories, and the people of Jerusalem had their own beliefs and their own stories, too. What emerged from these cultures and stories encountering each other is what gave us much of the Bible as we know it today.

Now, one way I like to think about this is that the ancient people breathed the ancient air of their ancient neighbors. But something remarkable happened, too. While they breathed the same air, they began to exhale something entirely different, particularly their view of God.

I want to show you what I mean by this by starting with a story that the exiled people from Jerusalem would have heard told by their Babylonian neighbors. This story is usually called Atrahasis, or the Epic of Atrahasis. But its actual ancient title is quite fascinating. That title comes from the opening lines of the story, which are the words inuma ilu awilum - which translates to something like “When the gods were (like) Man.” 

Now, hold onto that, because I think in many ways that’s what we’re exploring today. What are the gods like? What are we like? Are we to emulate them? Or do they emulate us? As we ponder those questions, let’s read this ancient flood story.

Long ago, the gods were said to have made humans to do the work they didn't want to do. But over time, people multiplied, and their noise kept the gods awake at night. Annoyed and restless, the chief god, Enlil, decided humanity had to be dealt with. First, he sent plagues and famines, but people cried out to Enki, the god of wisdom, who showed them how to survive. Enlil grew angrier. Finally, he chose to unleash a great flood to wipe out all life. But Enki whispered a warning to a man named Atrahasis. "Build a boat," he said. "Seal it with pitch, and take your family and animals with you." Atrahasis obeyed, and when the rains came, the waters swallowed everything. For seven days and seven nights, the storm raged, and the earth was emptied of life. When the flood ended, Atrahasis stepped out onto dry ground and built an altar, offering a sacrifice. The hungry gods, who had gone without offerings during the flood, gathered like flies around the smell of food. One of the gods was so happy with the sacrifice, they promised to remember it every time they looked at their jeweled necklace. Meanwhile, Enlil was furious that anyone had survived, but Enki spoke up: "If you want to control humanity, there are other ways. Give them shorter lives. Bring sickness and death. But do not destroy them all." And so the flood ended, and humanity lived on—fragile, limited, but alive.’

Now, right away, you probably noticed that this ancient story sounds very similar to another flood story we call the story of Noah's Ark. And we’ve already talked a little bit about why that might be. It goes back to that idea of breathing the same cultural air.

The people who wrote down this story were surrounded by flood narratives, stories that had been told for centuries by Egyptians, Sumerians, and other ancient peoples. And while this story that I just read is the oldest one we know of, all of these flood stories share similarities we simply can’t ignore. We can’t ignore them if we want to be serious about history, and we can’t ignore them if we want to be honest as we study Bible stories influenced by them.

Now, theories abound on what was the catalyst for this shared mythology. And while I find that conversation fascinating, I want to focus on the profound differences that we find amid the uncanny similarities of these flood stories. Because there, we find something incredible.

To continue this journey, let’s go to the story of Noah’s Ark and explore some of those similarities we talked about, but also the profound differences we find. 

Genesis 6:5-8 (NRSVUE) 
5 The Lord saw that the wickedness of humans was great in the earth and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. 6 And the Lord was sorry that he had made humans on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. 7 So the Lord said, “I will blot out from the earth the humans I have created—people together with animals and creeping things and birds of the air—for I am sorry that I have made them.” 8 But Noah found favor in the sight of the Lord.

Now, in the Babylonian version, the god Enlil was annoyed because humans were too noisy. His motivation was sleep, and the pesky humans were screwing it up. But in the story from the Bible, it’s human wickedness that Noah’s god finds most disturbing. So, right away, we see this story isn't about divine inconvenience over sleep; it's about divine heartbreak over moral corruption. And that’s already a significant difference for us to discover.

Imagine this story being told to people who only knew gods who reacted according to their level of divine annoyance. They’re now introduced to a god who is emotionally invested in the moral development of humanity. Some of us need to make that shift too.

As we continue, from here, the story tells us about Noah’s obedience in building the ark before the flood waters show up. Eventually, those flood waters receded, and Noah’s ark rested on dry land. Then, Noah, his family, and the animals exited the boat to safety. 

Genesis 8:20-22 (NRSVUE)
20 Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and took of every clean animal and of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar. 21 And when the Lord smelled the pleasing odor, the Lord said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of humans, for the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth; nor will I ever again destroy every living creature as I have done. 22 As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night shall not cease.”

After the floodwaters receded, Noah, like Atrahasis, made an offering. But here’s where the biblical story takes an unexpected turn. In other ancient stories, the gods responded with strangely human-like satisfaction. In this story, however, God responded with compassion, gave humanity a command to flourish, and made a promise never again to flood the earth.

Genesis 9:11-16 (NRSVUE)
11 I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.”12 God said, “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: 13 I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. 14 When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, 15 I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh, and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.”

In the other story, the ultimate solution for humanity was to give them shorter lives through suffering and death. Their answer to avoid disaster again was to make human existence more miserable, more fragile, more limited. But Noah’s God was very different. Instead of seeing humanity as a problem to be managed, He declared love for his creation.

Now, of course, tension still remains here for us. As modern readers, this is still a troubling story of divine judgment. But if we try to solve that tension with modern explanations, we actually miss the point. The author wasn’t trying to make this story easy. The point is to sit in the weight of it. When we do, we wrestle with the devastation, the questions, the unease. And it’s in that tension that something remarkable happens. We see God pivot.

Noah’s god turns from destruction to compassion, from wrath to mercy, from ending life to preserving it. And that shift, as small as it may seem to us, was huge for the ancient people and their view of God. And, it lays the foundation for an even greater shift to come.

You see, over time, this god who showed unexpected compassion, and even regret, was increasingly revealed not as distant like the other gods, but as near. And in the fullness of time, rather than staying apart and using suffering and death against us, this god is said to have chosen to enter into human suffering and death for us.

Five hundred years after Noah’s story was written down, people began to share a new story about a man named Jesus who lived and died. But the most incredible thing is who he was.

Philippians 2:5-8 (NRSVUE)
…Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.

Another community of Jesus followers put the same idea in a slightly different way:

John 3:16-17 (NRSVUE)
16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17 Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.

What this tells us is that the rainbow covenant of Noah’s god was just the beginning. In the story of Jesus, we see the fullness of this divine commitment, which is also a repudiation and correction of the wrathful vengeance found in the other ancient stories. 

This god, revealed in Jesus, rather than raging against human brokenness, enters into it. He doesn't scheme to make life more difficult but takes on our most difficult moments. And he doesn’t sit around waiting for our offering, but offers himself. The god who promised he would never again destroy is revealed to be the god who would do anything to save. 

Think about the profound contrast: In Noah's story, God destroyed because of human sin. In Jesus's story, God saved by absorbing the full brunt of human sin. The flood washed away the sinful world; the cross washed away sin from the world. This transformation reveals that God was never the angry deity demanding appeasement like the stories of the ancient world. God was never a cosmic lender waiting for someone to satisfy some eternal debt.

Instead, God is a creator, healer, and rescuer whose deepest desire is not to remove sinful humanity from the world, but to remove sin from the world of humanity. And when we truly grasp this, when we see what God was willing to do to demonstrate his love, it transforms us from the inside out. This is how the cross accomplishes what no amount of destruction ever could: it heals us by showing us who God really is. It’s been said like this:

“The cross doesn't change God's mind about us; it changes our minds about God.” - Richard Rohr

Rohr goes on to say that “Most of us were taught that God would love us if and when we change. In fact, God loves you so that you can change.”

When we witness God entering our suffering, absorbing our brokenness, willingly bearing the sin of the world cast upon him, and loving us all the way to death, something shifts within us. This kind of radical, self-giving love melts hardened hearts, breaks down our defenses, and draws us into the very love we've witnessed. We're transformed not because a debt has been paid, but because we've seen a love so powerful that we cannot remain unchanged. We can’t accept the sin the cross reveals, so we reject it and embrace his love.

So, what does this mean for how we live our lives today?

Firstly, it means we can trust in God's character. The storytellers only knew what they knew, but Jesus shows us what we now know. The god revealed in Noah's story, and fully revealed in Jesus, isn’t a self-serving god like the stories had told. This is a god whose heart breaks over human suffering, not a god who creates suffering for divine convenience. God is not a god of wrath. God is a god of love.

Secondly, every time you see a rainbow, it’s okay to smile and remember that this is a god whose story is ultimately preservation over destruction, faithfulness over control, and love over condemnation. This god's response to human failure isn't punishment; it’s promises.

Lastly, it means we're called to reflect this same character. If this god doesn't rage against human noise but listens to human cries, how should we respond to the people around us? If our God doesn't scheme to make life harder but enters our struggles, what does that mean for how we treat those who are struggling? If God looks like Jesus, do we look like him?

I love these stories because the ancient people did breathe the ancient air of their ancient neighbors, but they also exhaled something entirely new, and they gave us a vision of divine love that’s so radical and unprecedented it has the power to continue to change us today.