Previously:

New Insights into the Hebrew Bible Conference 2026 – First Lecture by Bart Ehrman, Genesis: An Introduction to the Key Scholarly Debates as a primer

(2) New Insights into the Hebrew Bible Conference 2026 – Lectures by Dan McClellan and Ron Hendel

(3) New Insights into the Hebrew Bible Conference 2026 – Lecture by Megan Lewis

(4) New Insights into the Hebrew Bible Conference 2026 – Lectures by Kenton Sparks and David Carr

And Now, The Conclusion:

When Abraham Negotiated Against God… Or Not

By Dr. Joel Baden

It is commonly said that Abraham argued God and convinced him into changing his mind in the Sodom story. That interpretation is everywhere, but that’s not really what’s happening at all. This talk shows what the story is really doing, why readers often misunderstand it, and what it reveals about how Genesis is meant to be read.

The standard interpretation since Josephus is Abraham took pity on the depraved pagans of Sodom and pleaded to God not to destroy them.  We normally take this as Abraham questioning God’s justice and mercy and treating the story as an isolate unit of meaning unto itself.  Baden says this is not how we should read the bible.  This story is from the J source, one of the four sources stitched together to make the Pentateuch.  Baden asks about the story, not as a self-contained moral tale, but how it fits in the context of what J is doing.

In J, God is going to bless Abraham with a great nation for what Abraham does.  Both must do their respective parts.  Other nations should see how Abraham is acting and how God rewards him.  Abraham in J is a model for the rest of humanity.  He needs to know the way of God, God’s divine justice, because he is a teacher/model for humanity.  The J source doesn’t have any laws, but the way of God is knowable: justice, patience, the divine are attributes from the J source in Exodus, for instance.  Abraham doesn’t talk with God to persuade him, but so Abraham could know His way to embody or model this for the rest of the world.  Abraham is not teaching God anything here, nor is he pleading for anything.  

Commentary

The angels who go to visit Sodom and Gomorrah go there to destroy it, not to evaluate.  This contrast with Jesus who is sent to restore the Davidic throne but is turned on by the world, and so God judges and punishes the Jews by having the Romans destroy the 2^nd temple. 

Let’s connect Joel Baden’s talk with some thoughts from last time, like the difference we talked about last time between mainland Nova Scotia and the down-homers of poor Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.  Let’s apply Baden’s reflection on Abraham’s talk with God, not as an isolated unit, but withing the whole of J, and see if we can think of humanity in terms of belonging to a fourfold rather than just in isolation.

Last time we contrasted the meaningless, snooty world of the bored, restless rich with the purposeful wholeness of the world of the peasant.

The world of the rich is characterized as having too much time on their hands and erecting a structure of airs because it is a way of artificially injecting meaning and purpose into their existence.  We see the countermovement today of rich people today trying to show they may be rich but are “everyday people” who you would want to be friends with and hang out with.  The phrase and concept of “putting on airs” (or “airs and graces”) come from French linguistic roots meaning an affected manner or assumed appearance of superiority, entering English by the late 16th–early 18th centuries amid critiques of social pretension.

“Air” in this sense derives from French air (“look, appearance, mien, bearing, tone”), with Old French aire carrying related ideas of nature, character, or origin. By the 1590s in English it meant a person’s manner or demeanor (e.g., “an air of mystery”); by the 1650s it referred to an assumed or affected appearance. The plural “airs” specifically for “affected manner, assumed haughtiness” is attested around 1702. Related French expressions like se donner des airs or prendre des airs (to give oneself or take on airs) influenced the English usage.

Early English examples of the fuller idea include “airs and graces” (affectations or pretensions) from the late 1600s, such as in John Vanbrugh’s Æsop (1697). “Put on airs” or close variants appear in print by the early 1700s—e.g., a 1715 satirical political tract (“put on Airs”)—and in later 18th-century works. It means to assume an unnatural or affected manner, especially an unjustified air of superiority.

The broader idea of the rich (or the newly aspiring) “putting on airs” reflects longstanding social observation and satire of class pretension in hierarchical societies. In 17th–18th-century Britain (and later elsewhere), rigid rank, upward mobility, and emphasis on outward polish made affectation a frequent target: people adopting superior manners, speech, or style beyond their station (or the wealthy flaunting status in ways seen as false or excessive). It often critiques those “getting above themselves,” whether nouveaux riches or established elites acting haughty. Similar themes appear in literature, theater, and everyday commentary on manners. Later contexts, such as Gilded Age America, amplified related critiques via conspicuous consumption and status display, though the specific idiom predates that.

In short, the linguistic origin is French-influenced English of the early modern period, while the cultural idea stems from enduring scrutiny of social climbing, hierarchy, and false superiority.

By contrast, the notion of dwelling on the earth (being down to earth; salt of the earth) is found as a consistent virtue cross culturally and over time. It has been popularized numerous times with someone of the snooty upper class becoming enchanted with the real-ness / down-home-ness of someone in the lower class, from Titanic to Shrek in cinema, and Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl to Pulp’s Common People and Avril Lavigne’s Skater Boy in popular music (SK8R BOI). Even Madonna’s Material Girl romanticizes this if you watch the music video as opposed to just listening to the lyrics.

“Salt of the earth” comes from the Bible (Matthew 5:13 in the Sermon on the Mount); “down to earth” is a idiom drawing on the idea of the terrestrial/practical realm versus the elevated or heavenly; and broader notions of Earth as ground, element, or human world have deep roots in classical philosophy, biblical cosmology, and language.

Salt of the earth

The phrase originates in the New Testament, specifically Jesus’s words in Matthew 5:13 “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot.” It is a calque of the Greek tò hálas tês gês.

In ancient contexts, salt was highly valued for flavoring, preserving food (especially meat and fish), and its role in covenants or rituals. Roman soldiers received a salt allowance (salarium), the root of the English word “salary.” The metaphor therefore praises people of fundamental worth, reliability, and moral goodness—those who preserve or give “savor” to society. The expression entered English by the late 14th century (appearing in Chaucer’s Summoner’s Tale around 1386, drawing on Latin Bible versions) and became widespread through later English Bible translations such as the King James Version.

Related older phrases reflecting salt’s value include “worth one’s salt” and “above the salt” (referring to seating rank at table relative to a salt cellar). Note that this positive sense is distinct from the destructive practice of “salting the earth” to render land infertile.

Down to earth

Literally, it refers to descending to the ground or the terrestrial sphere. Figurative uses meaning “back to reality” appear by the 19th century (OED evidence from the 1840s), often contrasting lofty, unrealistic, or “heavenly” ideas with practical matters. The adjectival sense of a person or attitude that is practical, realistic, unpretentious, or sensible (“a down-to-earth person”) is attested from the early 20th century (around the 1910s–1930s), sometimes earlier in advertising for reasonable prices.

Possible conceptual roots include the contrast between celestial/heavenly realms and the human/earthly one (e.g., angels or elevated beings “coming down to earth,” or the notion of bringing abstract ideas into everyday reality). It contrasts with expressions like “head in the clouds.”

The idea of being “down to earth”—meaning humble, practical, and closely tied to the soil or reality—has deep ancient roots. Ancient Greek, Roman, and Eastern philosophies all valued this trait. They viewed simplicity and a connection to the physical world as key virtues.

Ancient Greek and Roman Ideas

• Cynicism: Thinkers like Diogenes lived simple, natural lives. They rejected wealth and social status to live like animals or common laborers.
• Stoicism: Philosophers like Epictetus taught people to accept their real-life place in nature. They focused on practical actions over big, unrealistic dreams.
• Cincinnatus: Roman history praised this famous leader. He left his farm to save Rome as a dictator, and then he gave up power right away. He went back to plowing his own fields.

Ancient Eastern Ideas

• Daoism: Ancient Chinese texts like the Tao Te Ching praise the “uncarved block.” This means a simple, natural state of mind. It values being humble and plain over showing off.
• Confucianism: This tradition respects farmers and hard physical work. It views practical duty to family and community as the base of a good life.

Two remarkable ancient leaders famously gave up near-absolute power over the western world to return to a simple life of farming:

1. Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus (c. 519 – 430 BC)

• The High Office: In 458 BC, Rome faced a military crisis. The Roman Senate called Cincinnatus to become Dictator, a position granting him absolute power over the state.
• The Return to the Farm: Senators found him plowing his own small farm. He washed off the dirt, put on his official toga, and took command. Within just 15 to 16 days, he defeated the enemy and saved Rome. Instead of keeping his absolute power, he immediately resigned and returned to his plow. He became history’s ultimate symbol of civic virtue and humility.

2. Roman Emperor Diocletian (c. 244 – 311 AD)

• The High Office: Diocletian was the Emperor of Rome. He ruled with absolute authority for over 20 years and successfully stabilized a crumbling empire.
• The Return to the Farm: In 305 AD, he did something no Roman emperor had ever done: he voluntarily stepped down from power. He retired to a palace on the Adriatic coast (in modern-day Croatia) to grow vegetables.
• The Famous Reply: When the empire fell back into chaos, his former co-rulers begged him to return to the throne. Diocletian refused, stating that if they could see the cabbages he had grown with his own hands, they would never ask him to trade his peace for power again

Broader historical notions of Earthen.

• Language and personification: The English word “Earth” derives from Old English eorðe (ground, soil, dry land, the human world), from Proto-Germanic roots. Cognates appear across Germanic languages. It could be personified (e.g., the Norse giantess Jörð; parallels to Greek Gaia or Roman Terra/Tellus).These traditions underpin the expressions: Earth as the solid, ordinary, valuable, or practical human sphere—contrasted with the lofty, ethereal, or heavenly—while salt’s preservative and flavoring qualities elevate the “best” or most reliable people within that sphere. The positive valuation of ordinary, grounded qualities in both idioms reflects long-standing cultural associations of Earth with reliability, materiality, and everyday life.

River People

Heidegger thus talks of a fourfold in dwelling of earth/sky – mortals/gods, which given the above thoughts we can flesh out with the river people the later Heidegger in reading Holderlin was always thinking about.

Towns and cities that develop around rivers very commonly form industries and folklore shaped by the river’s practical roles (water, power, transport, food, fertility, flooding risks) and its symbolic presence in daily life.

Industries tied to the river environment

Rivers historically concentrated settlement because they supplied drinking water, irrigation for fertile floodplains, transportation (cheaper and faster than early roads), power for mills, and fish/other resources. This produced distinctive economic patterns:

Transport, trade, and shipbuilding — Many river towns functioned as ports or steamboat hubs. Pittsburgh’s economy has long depended on its three rivers (Allegheny, Monongahela, Ohio) for barges, freight, and related manufacturing; the rivers remain an economic engine today. Classic North American “river towns” along the Mississippi, Missouri, Ohio, and similar waterways grew around steamboat traffic, levees, warehouses, and seasonal navigation. In earlier periods and other regions, boat-building, rope-making, and barge traffic were common.

Water power and manufacturing — Falls and currents powered gristmills, sawmills, textile mills, and later heavier industry. The Connecticut River Valley developed shipyards, specialized farming (onions, tobacco, livestock), and precision manufacturing partly because of river access and water power. Spokane grew around its falls for milling and early hydroelectric generation. Steel and heavy industry clustered along rivers in places like Pittsburgh’s Steel Valley for transport of coal/ore and process water.

Fishing, processing, and related crafts — Commercial fishing, trapping, and associated work were central in many places before declining; residual or tourism versions persist.

Modern shifts — Many river communities have transitioned toward tourism, recreation, riverfront revitalization, and heritage economies (e.g., Mississippi River towns promoting outdoor recreation and scenic routes; waterfront redevelopment in various cities). Agriculture on floodplain soils remains important in many valleys.

These patterns appear worldwide historically (ancient cities on the Nile, Tigris-Euphrates, Indus, etc.) and in places like the waterfront towns of China’s Jiangnan region, where canals and rivers structured production, silk crafts, and daily life.

Folklore and cultural traditions reflecting the river.

Living with a river—its floods, currents, fish, boats, and mysteries—generates stories, occupational lore, place names, and rituals. Examples include:

River spirits, deities, nymphs, and mermaids — Widespread across cultures. British and Welsh traditions feature river goddesses and origin myths (e.g., the Severn and related sisters). Native American and local legends along the Pascagoula River (Mississippi) involve a “singing river” and mermaid-related stories that locals still reference. Similar water beings appear in many traditions.

Occupational and place-based lore — Mississippi River culture includes steamboat stories, tramp-boat traditions, levee bonfires (especially Christmas Eve in parts of Louisiana), work songs, lead-line calls (“mark twain”), and shantyboat life. Other rivers produce local ghost stories, witches, haunted stretches, or explanatory legends tied to drownings, floods, or historical events (Ohio River urban legends, Sacramento river lore, etc.).

Foundational city myths and symbols — Glasgow’s civic symbols incorporate a salmon with a ring linked to a river-related saint’s legend. Place names, festivals, and local identity frequently reference the river.

Rivers shape mental maps, seasonal rhythms, risk perception (floods), and social life (ferries, bridges, waterfront gathering places), so folklore naturally incorporates them. Even when industrial pollution or channelization temporarily reduced everyday contact (as in many 19th–20th century urban rivers), residual stories and later revitalization efforts often revive or reinvent river-centered culture.

Why this happens

Human societies adapt to their environment. A dominant local feature like a major river supplies resources and constraints that structure economy, settlement form, work skills, and storytelling. Not every riverside settlement develops equally rich or unique river folklore/industry (size, other resources, cultural substrate, and later technology matter), and some cities later reorient away from the water. The pattern is nevertheless strong and well-documented across continents and eras: rivers leave clear economic and imaginative imprints on the places that grow up along them.

Application

Heidegger’s fourfold (Geviert) is a key idea in his later philosophy (from the late 1940s onward). It names the gathering or “mirror-play” of four mutually belonging and reciprocally sustaining dimensions—earth, sky, divinities (or gods/die Göttlichen), and mortals—that together constitute both “the thing” and the world.

The concept first appears prominently in the 1949 Bremen lecture cycle Insight Into That Which Is, and is developed in essays such as “The Thing” and “Building Dwelling Thinking.” It shifts emphasis from the earlier focus on Dasein and the worldhood of the world (as in Being and Time) toward a thinking of things as relational, finite, and open, rather than as self-contained objects standing over against a subject. The fourfold is what Heidegger calls the world in this later period: a local, coherent style in which entities show up as meaningful through the adaptive unity of these four.

Heidegger valorized peasants grounded in the earth, such as with Van Gogh’s painting of the peasant’s shoes I shared previously.

The Four Dimensions

Heidegger describes them poetically and stresses that each already implies the others in a primal oneness; they do not exist as independent parts that are later assembled:

• Earth is the “serving bearer,” what nourishingly fructifies, tending waters and stones, plants and animals. It is the material, grounding-yet-ungrounded basis of things—bearing and supporting without being a stable, present foundation.
• Sky is the path of the sun, the course of the moon, the gleam of the stars, the seasons, the light and twilight of day, the dark and bright of the night, the weather, drifting clouds, and the blue depths of the ether. It is the medium of appearance, temporality, and atmospheric change.
• Divinities (the god-like ones) are the “hinting” or “beckoning messengers of the godhead.” From the concealed reign of the holy, the god may appear in presence or withdraw into concealment. They mediate a sense of the sacred or divine that draws mortals beyond purely mundane concerns.
• Mortals are human beings, so called because they are capable of death as death. Only humans die in this distinctive sense; death is the shrine of nothing and a refuge of being. Mortals dwell by staying with one another in the fourfold.

These four “belong together in one” by a primal oneness. Each reflects or “mirrors” the others; their reciprocal adaptation produces a unified “onefold” that worlds as world. A concrete thing (a jug, a bridge, a farmhouse, a fountain) “things” precisely by gathering and letting this fourfold abide in its unity. The thing is therefore not an isolated object but a nexus of relations—ungrounded, mediated, meaningful, and open.

Dwelling and the World

To dwell is the basic character of human existence for later Heidegger: to stay on the earth, under the sky, before the divinities, and among mortals, while sparing and preserving the fourfold in its essential unfolding. Authentic dwelling lets the fourfold be what it is rather than reducing things to standing-reserve under technological enframing (Gestell). The fourfold thus offers a counter-image to modern technology’s objectification and resource-thinking: things retain a relational, finite, and world-opening character.

Scholars note that the idea draws on Heidegger’s readings of Hölderlin and earlier motifs (including certain fourfold structures in his 1930s notebooks), and that it can appear mythic or poetic. Yet it is central to understanding his later accounts of thing, world, dwelling, and the critique of technology. The fourfold is not a static square or cross of separate realms but a dynamic, mirroring play in which earth and sky, divinities and mortals continuously co-determine one another.

Male and Female He Created Them: Rethinking Gender and Power in Genesis 1–3

By Dr. John Collins

What if the Bible’s very first chapters offer more than one way to think about gender and power? Genesis contains two different creation stories. Genesis 1 presents an orderly creation of “male and female,” while Genesis 2–3 offers a messier, more human narrative involving choice, blame, and consequences. In this lecture, John Collins explores how these stories have been interpreted, what they meant in their ancient context, and whether later ideas about gender hierarchy really belong in the text.

Humanity is the image of God, meaning God is made present in the world through humanity.  This is meant that man has dominion over all things, like God does.  That they were originally naked means they were not that different from the wild beasts.

There are two creation accounts, one in Genesis 1, and another in Genesis 2-3.  The latter has man ruling over woman, while the former is more ideal like Paul’s account in Galatians that in Christ there is neither male nor female, bond nor free.

Commentary

I made a connection between man’s eyes being opened to its nakedness and the difference between man and beasts. Schelling said evil is a uniquely human possibility/freedom, that only humans can sink below beasts in terms of depravity.

In the Beginning, God Created the Sea Monsters

By Dr. Esther Hamori

Sea monsters get a special mention in the creation story of Genesis 1. How do these sea monsters relate to those we meet elsewhere in the Bible, usually as God is slaughtering them? What’s their relationship to the one we know by name, Leviathan? These creatures also appear in older Canaanite literature, where they tangle with the god Baal. What is their relationship with God and what on earth are they doing in creation?

The bible is teaming with monsters (we’d call them monsters if we encountered them in other texts), but in other texts they would be God’s opponents, but in the bible they are God’s entourage.  The exception is when it comes to the Sea Monster, God brutally slays it over and over again.   In Psalm 104 not man but Leviathan is the pinnacle of creation and God’s puppy.  In God’s speech about Creation in Job, Leviathan isn’t mentioned after man, but instead of man.  God putting Job in his place is saying God created the world for Leviathan, not for you, and spends 34 verses praising Leviathan.  It is the same kind of love/praise poetry we find in the Song of Songs.

The role of the Sea Monster in Job as elsewhere is to be killed by God, and loved by God.  The idea of God slaying the Sea Monster is inherited from west semitic tradition lore about Baal.  As the tradition goes from polytheism to monotheism, in the Baal cycle the high God El’s love for the dangerous sea monster, and Baal’ slaughter of the Sea Monster fuse together into one God YHWH doing both.  This love dimension is preserved in the creation story in Genesis 1:21 where God creates the sea monsters.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY THOUGHTS ON THE CONFERENCE.  Thanks for reading!