The recent translation of a Babylonian tablet launches a groundbreaking investigation into one of the most famous stories in the world, challenging the way we look at ancient history. Since the Victorian period, it has been understood that the story of Noah, iconic in the Book of Genesis, and a central motif in Judaism, Christianity and Islam, derives from a much older story that existed centuries before in ancient Babylon. But the relationship between the Babylonian and biblical traditions was shrouded in mystery. Then, in 2009, Irving Finkel, a curator at the British Museum and a world authority on ancient Mesopotamia, found himself playing detective when a member of the public arrived at the museum with an intriguing cuneiform tablet from a family collection. Not only did the tablet reveal a new version of the Babylonian Flood Story; the ancient poet described the size and completely unexpected shape of the ark, and gave detailed boat building specifications. Decoding this ancient message wedge by cuneiform wedge, Dr. Finkel discovered where the Babylonians believed the ark came to rest and developed a new explanation of how the old story ultimately found its way into the Bible. In The Ark Before Noah, Dr. Finkel takes us on an adventurous voyage of discovery, opening the door to an enthralling world of ancient voices and new meanings.

A collection of fifteen essays, most of them published previously. Ch. 6 (pp. 109-118), "Jews and Christians in Antioch at the End of the Fourth Century" [appeared in "Christian-Jewish Relations through the Centuries" (2000)], contrasts the vitriolic anti-Jewish polemics of John Chrysostom in regard to Judaizing with the attitude of the "Apostolic Constitutions" (material on ecclesiastical law). The latter, instead of denigrating the Jews, borrowed from them aspects of Judaism that local Christians found attractive. Ch. 12 (pp. 207-221), "Who Was Apion?" [unpublished], focuses on Apion's "scholarship" and writing, i.e. activities other than his anti-Jewish polemics. However, notes that Apion's self-proclaimed originality included his invention of the libel of Jewish cannibalism.

Genesis 1-11 contains some of the best-known stories in the world. To modern Westerners they may look like no more than entertaining tales that children can enjoy, but modern adults cannot take seriously. However, when read in the context of the ancient Orient, Genesis 1-11 looks very different. It turns out to be a truly revolutionary document. In retelling the history of the ancient world, it puts a new spin on it by introducing an all-powerful, all-knowing, unique God whose greatest concern is human welfare. The God who appears in Genesis 1-11 is the God presupposed by all the Old Testament writers, indeed by the New Testament as well. The gripping tales of Genesis thus provide the theological spectacles for a sympathetic reading of the Bible. They are the gateway to a valid understanding of its message and can even help modern believers construct a worldview that integrates both the discoveries of modern science and the insights of Christian theology.

The stories of Genesis 1-11 constitute one of the better known parts of the Old Testament, but their precise meaning and background still provide many debated questions for the modern interpreter. In this stimulating, learned and readable collection of essays, which paves the way for his forthcoming ICC commentary on these chapters, John Day attempts to provide definitive solutions to some ofthese questions. Amongst the topics included are the background and interpretation of the seven-day Priestly Creation narrative, problems in the interpretation of the Garden of Eden story, the relation of Cain and the Kenites, the strange stories of the sons of God and daughters of men and of Noah's drunkenness and the curse of Canaan, the precise ancient Near Eastern background of the Flood story and the preceding genealogies, and the meaning and background of the story of the tower and city of Babel. Throughout this volume John Day constantly seeks to determine the original meaning of these stories in the light of their ancient Near Eastern background, and to determine how far this original meaning has been obscured by later interpretations.

Talk about chaos is pervasive. Biblical scholars, theologians, and scientists have been using the word chaos for some time, occasionally mingling ideas across disciplines around the shared word. Quite often, discussions of chaos center on the issues of creation's origin and nature, as well as on God's creative methods and relationship to creation. Eric M. Vail investigates the current uses of the word chaos in those areas. A new way of articulating creation out of nothing is offered as both helpful and appropriate in our current milieu. He suggests where we ought to focus our use of the word chaos in Christian discourse and argues that chaos is more fitting for naming where creation has gone awry rather than for naming that state out of which creation comes to be.

Using a combination of form-critical and linguistic methods, the author seeks to understand the role of the toledot formula, often translated "These are the generations of Name," in shaping the book of Genesis and the Pentateuch as a whole. An examination of the formula uncovers that it functions primarily as a heading to major sections of text and draws the readers' attention to focus on an ever narrower range of characters. By starting from the perspective of the surface structure of the text and addressing questions that investigation raises, the study is able to uncover and resolve a number of tensions within the text, as well as provide insights into a number of other questions surrounding the toledot headings and the organization of the structure of the Pentateuch.