The practical question which at once suggests itself is, What place
or right has this ancient Semitic tradition, if such it is, among
the Biblical narratives? At best the historical data which it
preserves are exceedingly small and of doubtful value. Is it
possible that the prophetic and priestly historians found these
stories on the lips of the people and sought in this heroic way to
divest them of their polytheistic form and, in certain respects,
immoral implications? A minute comparison of the Babylonian and
Biblical accounts indicates that this may perhaps be precisely what
has been done; but the majestic, just God of the Biblical
narratives is far removed from the capricious, intriguing gods of
the Babylonian tradition, who hang like flies over the battlements
of heaven, stupefied with terror because of the destruction which
they had wrought.
Each of the Biblical narrators seems to be seeking also by means of
these illustrations to teach certain universal moral and religious
truths. In this respect the two variant Biblical narratives are in
perfect agreement. The destruction of mankind came not as the fiat
of an arbitrary Deity, but because of the purpose which God had
before him in the work of creation, and because that purpose was
good. Men by their sins and wilful failure to observe his benign
laws were thwarting that purpose. Hence in accord with the just
laws of the universe their destruction was unavoidable, and it came
even as effect follows cause. On the other hand, these ancient
teachers taught with inimitable skill that God would not destroy
that which was worthy of preservation.
In each of the accounts the character of Noah stands in striking
contrast with those of his contemporaries. The story as told is
not merely an illustration of the truth that righteousness brings
its just reward, but of the profounder principle that it is the
morally fit who survive. In both of the versions Noah in a very
true sense represents the beginning of a new creation: he is the
traditional father of a better race. To him are given the promises
which God was eager to realize in the life of humanity. In the
poetic fancy of the ancient East even the resplendent rainbow,
which proclaimed the return of the sun after the storm, was truly
interpreted as evidence of God's fatherly love and care for his
children. In the light of these profound religious teachings may
any one reasonably question the right of these stories to a place
in the Bible? Did not Jesus himself frequently use illustrations
drawn from earlier history or from nature to make clear his
teachings? Is it not evidence of superlative teaching skill to use
that which is familiar and, therefore, of interest to those taught,
in order to inculcate the deeper moral and religious truths of life?