Of Miltons and Gods
There are some people, however, who … assert that God is,
in himself, the cause and author of sin…. If I should attempt
to refute them, it would be like inventing a long argument
to prove that God is not the Devil.
—John Milton, De Doctrina Christiana
HISTORY IS LITTERED WITH THE CORPSES OF GODS. AS ERAS AND peoples rise and fall, wax and wane, the gods who once roamed secure and unchallenged in their worshippers' heavens and earth fade and die. Some become fossils—objects of excavation, analysis, and study raised from the earth to shed light on lost epochs.
Homeric gods once breathed boisterous life; these deities' passions for sex, war, revenge, love, loyalty, friendship, and power radiate from practically every page of the Iliad and the Odyssey. But Zeus is dead, a cadaver whose earthly appearances are now limited to literature classes, low-budget Ray Harryhausen films, and high-budget Disney cartoons.
Likewise the Annunaki—the collective gods of such Mesopotamian epics as Atrahasis and the Enuma Elish—were vibrant and lively, animated in their jealousy, often petty in their resentments. Yet where once the victory of Marduk over Tiamat was enthusiastically celebrated in annual rituals designed to renew the cosmos, the Annunaki now are obscure relics lifted gently from the grave of a barely remembered past. Perhaps not surprisingly, there are no modern musicals, whether live or animated, about Marduk.