“In Your Life, Our Father, We Rejoice”: Insight on the Fall of Adam from Kirta

For a few weeks now, we have been discussing the Tale of Kirta from ancient Ugarit. As I read this story again, I keep seeing new connections with Old Testament texts, and even Christian theology. In this post, I discuss another part of the story of Kirta that sheds more light on the cultural context of the story of the Fall of Adam.

First, let’s have a quick summary. Kirta has gone to Udum and stolen away princess Ḫuraya for his bride. On the way there, he made a vow to Aṯirat, the queen of the gods, to secure his success in this venture. But once he had Ḫuraya safe at home in Ḫubur, and once she had borne eight children for him, he enjoyed all of the blessings of domestic bliss, and completely neglected to fulfill his vow. Aṯirat has cursed him with mortal sickness in retaliation.

What is interesting is the result this has for the land of Ḫubur. In column 5 of CAT 1.16, we hear about a terrible drought that has afflicted Ḫubur.

Look to the earth for Baal’s rain,

To the field, for the Most High’s rain!

They raise their heads, the plowmen do,

Up toward the Servant of Dagon:

“The food is all spent from its storage;

The wine is all spent from its skins;

The oil is all spent from its [casks].”

Translation of Edward L. Greenstein in Ugaritic Narrative Poetry, Vol. 9 in the SBL Writings from the Ancient World Series

It really does seem that a kind of sympathetic magic is in play here. As the king languishes, so does the very earth over which the king rules. Two of Kirta’s children express this as they bewail his illness.

In your life, our father, we rejoice.
As long as you do not die, we have joy.

My personal translation of column 2, lines 36-37

Kirta and Original Sin

Perhaps this can help us understand the ancient Near Eastern roots of our doctrine of original sin. It helps if we think of Adam as a king, the ruler over creation. Like Kirta, Adam breaks a covenant agreement with his God. Like Kirta, the result is slowly developing, yet certain, death. But also like Kirta, Adam’s sin has dreadful consequences for the earth over which he rules.


17 And to Adam he said,
“Because you have listened to the voice of your wife,
    and have eaten of the tree
of which I commanded you,
    ‘You shall not eat of it,’
cursed is the ground because of you;
    in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life;
18 thorns and thistles it shall bring forth to you;
    and you shall eat the plants of the field.
19 In the sweat of your face
    you shall eat bread
till you return to the ground,
    for out of it you were taken;
you are dust,
    and to dust you shall return.

Genesis 3:17-19, RSV
The Fall of Adam. The ancient Ugaritic Tale of Kirta sheds light on the doctrine of Original Sin.

Kirta’s sin and oncoming death brings a curse on the territory of Ḫubur and the people over whom he rules. Adam’s sin and death has even more dreadful consequences, because he had sovereignty over the entire world, and he represented each one of us, his children, in his act of rebellion. As the old New England Primer puts it, “In Adam’s fall, we sinned all.”

Spiritual Kingship and Original Sin

I confess, I have struggled with the doctrine of original sin for as long as I have been a Catholic. (For the most part, the independent Christian Churches in which I grew up rejected this ancient teaching). I fully accept it as part of the faith handed down from the Apostles, but I do find that I am still stubbornly sympathetic to the old critical voices that I have heard call it into question. In particular, some of the ways that we have talked about original sin in the West can make it seem as though God has saddled us with the guilt of our parents. It can feel as though we have been punished for crimes that we did not personally commit.

Recent readings and re-readings in Augustine and Aquinas have convinced me that these critiques of the doctrine of original sin are based on caricatures, not an authentic and fair treatment of the dogma. Yet, I have grown in my conviction that this is one of those doctrines for which various models can serve, and we would do well to think about it through various approaches.

Kirta opens the way to yet another model, I think. If we think of the story of the Fall in terms of Adam’s spiritual kingship, things begin to make a lot of sense. From an ancient Near Eastern perspective, the inter-connectedness of society is a much more palpable reality than the individuation that characterizes our own culture. The hub of this communal experience was the king himself. The king was not just the political leader of his people. He was, in a certain sense, the distillation of his people into one, concrete person. As it goes with the king, so it goes with the people, and vice versa. If the king is just, his people are regarded as just. If the king suffers punishment for his sin, so does the nation.

Kirta and Christ

This concept of spiritual kingship is the basis for all of those stories in the Old Testament where God punishes the people because of their king. The story of David’s illicit census and the plague that ensued (2 Samuel 24) is perhaps the most vivid example. For the modern West, especially for us Americans who have such a deeply ingrained aversion to monarchy, this is bound to present a stumbling block to appreciating these texts. But, conversely, it is also bound to prevent us from fully receiving the Messianic promises of the Old Testament, as well, because they operate on the very same principle.

St. Paul tells us that Jesus is the “New Adam” (Romans 5:14). I think that Kirta can help us better understand how Adam is a type of Christ.

At least part of how Jesus redeems us (and the cosmos) is by virtue of His kingly representation of each of us. At the beginning of human history, Adam as our king and ancestor, rebelled against God and brought death to the cosmos and to his children. Jesus came as Adam’s successor, and in His perfect obedience, reigns as the perfectly just King. You and I were not personally involved in Adam’s rebellion, and yet, because he represented us, the ramifications of that rebellion trouble us (and the world we live in) to this day. But, praise God!, though you and I are not personally involved in Jesus’ years of ministry on the earth, because He represents us, the ramifications of His obedience and justice also stream towards us, giving us life. Though we are still aware of the languishing cosmos, we have good grounds for hoping in the possibility of flourishing now and in to eternity.

There is good reason that God chose to redeem His people first in the Exodus and then in Christ’s death and resurrection in this beautiful spring season of the year. Nature herself bears witness to the restoration of life and fecundity that Jesus has secured in His victory as the King of Heaven and Earth. Gradually, the curse that fell on the earth because of Adam’s sin and death is being replaced with the blessing that follows upon Jesus’ obedience and everlasting life.