Surviving the Storm

Posted by expedition44 on June 9, 2026

One of my favorite themes of the Bible is the “Chaos Monster.” Modern readers often view the sea as a place of recreation, beauty, or adventure, but the biblical authors frequently saw it differently. To Israel, the sea represented danger, unpredictability, death, and the untamed forces that threatened God’s good creation. While Scripture certainly celebrates the majesty of the waters (Ps 104:24–26), it repeatedly employs maritime imagery to symbolize chaos, rebellion, and the hostile powers opposed to the reign of YHWH. Consequently, storms in the biblical narrative are rarely mere weather reports. They are often theological events. When the sea rages, the biblical authors invite readers to look beyond meteorology and consider deeper questions concerning divine sovereignty, human rebellion, redemption, and kingdom hope.

The ancient Near Eastern world helps illuminate this imagery. Israel’s neighbors commonly portrayed creation as emerging from divine conflict with chaotic sea powers. In the Babylonian Enuma Elish, the god Marduk establishes order by defeating the sea goddess Tiamat.^1 Similar themes appear throughout Ugaritic literature, where Baal defeats Yam, the personified sea.^2 While the Hebrew Scriptures occasionally employ comparable imagery, they radically transform it. Rather than depicting YHWH as one deity among many struggling for supremacy, the Old Testament consistently presents him as the unrivaled Creator who effortlessly rules the waters. The sea is not his rival; it is his creation (Gen 1:9–10). The chaos monster Leviathan is not a threat to God; it is merely one of his creatures (Ps 104:26). Israel’s theology therefore subverts rather than adopts ancient Near Eastern mythology. The point is not that God barely survives conflict with chaos, but that chaos itself exists under his sovereign authority.^3

This theme emerges immediately in Genesis. Contrary to popular assumptions, Genesis 1 does not describe creation ex nihilo as its primary concern. Rather, the narrative focuses upon God’s ordering of an uninhabitable world into a sacred, life-giving cosmos. The earth begins as tohu wabohu—formless and empty—while darkness covers the face of the deep (tehom) (Gen 1:2). The language intentionally evokes a world not yet functioning according to God’s design.^4 The Creator’s first actions involve establishing boundaries, separating waters, assigning functions, and bringing order out of disorder. Throughout Scripture, these primordial waters remain a symbol of forces opposed to flourishing life. Creation itself is portrayed as God’s triumph over chaos.

The Exodus deepens this imagery. Israel’s redemption begins not merely with liberation from Egypt but with passage through the sea. The waters that represented death and chaos become the very instrument through which YHWH delivers his people and judges their oppressors. The crossing of the Red Sea becomes Israel’s foundational salvation event (baptismal waters), repeatedly celebrated throughout the Old Testament as evidence of God’s supremacy over the powers of disorder.^5 The prophets and psalmists repeatedly recall the Exodus using creation language. God “divides the sea,” “crushes Rahab,” and “breaks the heads of Leviathan” (Ps 74:13–14; Isa 51:9–10). These texts are not zoological observations but theological declarations. The God who subdued chaos at creation is the same God who subdued chaos at the Exodus. (

This connection reaches one of its most profound expressions in Psalm 89. Here the psalmist celebrates YHWH’s authority over the raging sea: “You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them” (Ps 89:9). Immediately thereafter, he recounts God’s defeat of Rahab, the symbolic embodiment of chaos and opposition to God’s purposes (Ps 89:10). Remarkably, the psalm then transitions directly into God’s covenant with David (Ps 89:19–37). For the biblical writers, these themes belong together. God’s victory over chaos and God’s establishment of his kingdom are inseparable realities. The defeat of chaos serves the advancement of covenant purposes. The calming of the sea points toward the enthronement of the king. In biblical theology, order is never an end in itself; it exists so that God’s reign might flourish among his people.^6

These themes provide essential background for understanding one of the most famous storm narratives in Scripture: the book of Jonah. The story begins with a prophet fleeing the presence of YHWH. Yet the narrative is carefully crafted to reveal more than simple disobedience. Jonah’s movements form a repeated pattern of descent. He goes down to Joppa. He goes down into the ship. He goes down into the inner part of the vessel. Eventually he descends into the sea and then into the depths of Sheol itself (Jonah 2:2–6). The language intentionally portrays Jonah moving away from God’s life-giving presence and toward the realm of chaos and death.^7 What makes the story especially striking is its irony. Jonah, the prophet of Israel, behaves worse than everyone around him. The pagan sailors fear God more than the prophet. They pray while Jonah sleeps. They seek mercy while Jonah resists it. They display compassion while Jonah remains consumed by resentment. The storm exposes what already exists within Jonah’s heart. The external chaos reflects an internal chaos. The sea becomes a theological mirror revealing the prophet’s misplaced priorities and distorted understanding of divine mercy.^8 The narrative reaches its climax not merely when the storm ceases but when the sailors worship YHWH. The story therefore moves beyond judgment to mission. God’s sovereignty over the storm becomes a means of drawing Gentiles into worship. Long before Nineveh repents, the sailors themselves become evidence that YHWH’s redemptive purposes extend beyond Israel. The sea that threatened death becomes the setting for unexpected conversion.

Against this backdrop, the Gospel accounts of Jesus calming the storm take on extraordinary significance. Modern readers often focus on the miracle itself, but first-century audiences would have recognized something much larger occurring. In Mark 4:35–41, Jesus sleeps during a violent storm while his companions panic. The parallels to Jonah are unmistakable. Both figures sleep amid a storm. Both are awakened by terrified companions. Both become the focal point of questions concerning identity. Yet the differences are even more important than the similarities.

Jonah is responsible for the storm. Jesus rebukes it.
Jonah must be thrown into the sea to save others. Jesus commands the sea directly.
Jonah is a reluctant prophet fleeing God’s mission. Jesus is the faithful Son accomplishing it.

The disciples therefore ask the central question of the narrative: “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41). The answer reaches back into Israel’s Scriptures. Throughout the Old Testament, authority over the sea belongs to YHWH alone (Job 38:8–11; Ps 65:7; 89:9; 107:23–30). Jesus does not merely perform a miracle. He acts in the very role reserved for Israel’s God.^9 Even the language employed by Mark strengthens this conclusion. Jesus “rebukes” (epetimēsen) the wind and commands the sea to be silent (Mark 4:39). The same terminology appears elsewhere when Jesus confronts demonic powers (Mark 1:25; 9:25). Many scholars have therefore observed that the storm is portrayed not simply as bad weather but as a manifestation of hostile forces opposing God’s kingdom.^10 The calming of the sea becomes an enacted parable of the Messiah’s authority over every power that threatens God’s purposes.

The theme continues in an often-overlooked passage near the conclusion of Acts. Luke devotes an astonishing amount of space to Paul’s shipwreck (Acts 27–28). At first glance, the narrative appears excessively detailed. Yet Luke’s literary artistry suggests otherwise. The voyage functions as a theological drama in which God’s purposes advance despite seemingly overwhelming opposition. As the storm intensifies, experienced sailors despair of survival. Cargo is thrown overboard. Hope disappears. Chaos once again threatens God’s people. Yet Paul emerges as the calm center of the narrative. Unlike Jonah, whose rebellion endangered everyone aboard, Paul becomes the means through which others are preserved. God’s promise ensures that every life aboard survives the storm. The narrative thus presents Paul as a faithful witness whose confidence rests not in favorable circumstances but in divine faithfulness.^11

The ending of Acts becomes especially significant when viewed through this lens. Following the shipwreck, Paul arrives in Rome and spends two years proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about Jesus Christ “with all boldness and without hindrance” (Acts 28:31). Chaos fails to stop the mission. The sea cannot prevent the kingdom from advancing. The storm becomes another testimony that God’s purposes move forward despite every obstacle. The biblical story ultimately culminates in Revelation’s vision of new creation. Among the most intriguing statements in the book appears in Revelation 21:1: “the sea was no more.” For modern readers who enjoy oceans and lakes, the statement can seem perplexing. Yet within the broader framework of biblical theology, the symbolism becomes clearer. Revelation does not suggest that God’s renewed creation lacks beauty or water. Rather, the sea functions as a symbol of the chaos, evil, rebellion, and death that have plagued creation since Genesis.^12 The elimination of the sea signifies the final removal of everything that opposes God’s kingdom. The story that began with chaotic waters in Genesis concludes with their ultimate defeat in Revelation.

The biblical witness therefore presents storms as far more than natural phenomena. They become theological symbols pointing toward a larger reality. Throughout Scripture, God’s people repeatedly find themselves surrounded by forces that appear overwhelming. The sea rages. The winds howl. The future seems uncertain. Yet again and again, the biblical authors direct our attention not to the size of the storm but to the One who stands above it. From Genesis to Revelation, from the Exodus to Jonah, from Galilee to Rome, the story remains remarkably consistent: chaos never gets the final word. The God who separated the waters in the beginning continues to rule them in the present and will one day eliminate every vestige of chaos in the age to come.

CONCLUSION

The goal of discipleship is not a storm-free existence but a deeper confidence in the God who stands above the storm. Perhaps the most surprising truth in all of these narratives is that God’s greatest work often takes place not after the storm has passed, but in the middle of it. The sea reveals what calm waters often conceal. Storms expose our fears, our idols, our misplaced trusts, our assumptions, and sometimes even our calling. They strip away the illusion that we were ever in control to begin with. What remains is the question every generation of believers must answer: Is God enough when the ship begins to break apart?

Most of us spend our lives trying to preserve the ship. We cling to plans, expectations, structures, ministries, careers, relationships, reputations, and dreams. We thank God for these gifts, and rightly so. Yet somewhere along the journey we can begin to trust the vessel more than the One who called us into it. Then the storm comes, and we discover that faith was never about preserving the ship. Faith was always about learning to trust the Captain. One of the most overlooked verses in Acts records that some reached shore by swimming while others arrived clinging to broken pieces of the vessel. It is hardly the triumphant ending we would have scripted. No one arrives looking impressive. No one is celebrated for keeping everything together. They simply arrive. Wet. Exhausted. Empty-handed. Alive.

That may be one of the most beautiful pictures of grace in all of Scripture.

Some readers will recognize themselves there. Perhaps the ministry survived, but not in the form you imagined. Perhaps the marriage survived, but only after years of difficulty. Perhaps the dream changed. Perhaps the career ended. Perhaps the certainty disappeared. Perhaps the ship was lost altogether. Yet somehow, by the mercy of God, you found yourself standing on a shore you never expected to reach. The testimony of Scripture is not that God’s people never lose ships. The testimony of Scripture is that God never loses his people.

The same God who hovered over the chaos waters in Genesis, who parted the sea for Israel, who pursued Jonah into the deep, who slept peacefully in the storm, and who carried Paul through the shipwreck remains faithful today. The waves may be real. The wind may be strong. The night may feel long. Yet none of these things have ever possessed the authority to overturn the purposes of God. In the end, the story of Scripture is not about chaos becoming stronger. It is about the kingdom of God advancing steadily through every storm until all chaos is finally undone. One day every raging sea will be stilled. Every storm will cease. Every tear will be wiped away. Until then, we take courage from the faithfulness of the One who rules the waters.

And if the ship should break apart before you reach the shore, do not lose heart. The God who commands the sea is fully capable of carrying his children home on the broken pieces.

If you found this article interesting and want to go deeper in this area, consider this article next: INTO THE STORM: the weird pigs passages | EXPEDITION 44

Notes: Special Thanks to Chris Riggs of the TOV community for his investment in the piece

Alexander Heidel, The Babylonian Genesis, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), 42.
Mark S. Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle, vol. 1 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 81.
John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), 24.
John H. Walton, Genesis, NIVAC (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), 70.
T. Desmond Alexander, From Eden to the New Jerusalem (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2008), 22.
Stephen G. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 173.
Jack M. Sasson, Jonah, AB 24B (New York: Doubleday, 1990), 116.
Phyllis Trible, Rhetorical Criticism: Context, Method, and the Book of Jonah (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 186.
Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the God of Israel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 186.
Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2024), 263.
David W. Pao and Eckhard J. Schnabel, Acts, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016), 535.
G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 1042.

THE NEW YEAR & JEWISH ROOTS

Posted by expedition44 on December 30, 2024

A HISTORY LESSON:

The Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) in 2025 will begin on October 2 and end on October 4. The American New Year (New Year’s Day) in 2025 will fall on January 1.

Rosh Hashanah (Hebrew: רֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה‎, Rōʾš hašŠānā, lit. ’head of the year’) is the “observed” New Year in Judaism, (although as I will get to, it is more complicated than that). The biblical name for this holiday is Yom Teruah (יוֹם תְּרוּעָה‎, Yōm Tərūʿā, lit. ’day of shouting/blasting’). It is the first of the High Holy Days (יָמִים נוֹרָאִים‎, Yāmīm Nōrāʾīm, ‘Days of Awe”), as specified by Leviticus 23:23–25. Current tradition has Rosh Hashanah beginning ten days of penitence culminating in Yom Kippur, as well as beginning the cycle of autumnal religious festivals running through Sukkot.

Rosh is the Hebrew word for “head”, ha is the definite article (“the”), and shana means year. Thus Rosh Hashanah means “head of the year”, referring to the day of the New Year. But Rosh Hashanah itself can’t really be found in the Biblical text itself.

Abandoned old spooky church in Vergalijo (Navarre, Spain)

In ancient times, there were four different New Years on the Jewish calendar. Each had a distinct significance:

The first of the Hebrew month of Nisan, the New Year of Kings, was the date used to calculate the number of years a given king had reigned.
The first of the Hebrew month of Elul was the new year for tithing of cattle, a time when one of every 10 cattle was marked and offered as a sacrifice to God.
The first of the Hebrew month of Tishrei was the agricultural new year, or the New Year of the Years.
The 15th of the Hebrew month of Sh’vat, known as Tu BiShvat, was the New Year of the Trees.

Although the Torah refers to Nisan as the first month of the Jewish year, the first day of the month of Tishrei emerged as what we now know as Rosh HaShanah. This is an example of something that isn’t really Biblical but became the norm for some reason.

So, as you will see the celebrated New Year wasn’t really as biblical as it became traditional. (Remember the fiddler on the roof “TRADITION!!!”)

This started when the Babylonians, among whom the Jews lived under the captivity that began the diaspora which then some jews associated as a “Day of Judgment” each year to which the Babylonians believed the “gods” assembled in the temple of Marduk to inscribe the destiny of every person. Well, what is a bit crazy is that the Jews adopted these ideas and borrowed the elements to shape their New year, Rosh HaShanah believing that Yahweh also acted in the same way choosing the good and wicked (yes making God the author of evil); and that for 10 “in between” days you could repent before the book of life was sealed for the new year. Eventually this is going to become the reformed view of God actually ordaining the lives of those who would win the cosmic lottery in a sense of being “chosen” or predestined and laced to a lot of PSA beliefs. (We would see predestination as God simply seeing ahead of time the consequences of free will choices but would agree it is also more complicated than that.) Does it sound messed up, rather un-Biblical? Yea it is! Even though according to the Torah it was NOT the beginning of the year, it officially became the Jewish New Year because of this traditional thought as well as other thoughts such as believing that the world was created on this day (also not of biblical origin.) In the second century the Mishnah basically made this official. It was actually a very visible picture of 2nd temple Judaism walking farther away from the scripture and God than being rooted in Him.

Getting back to the Biblical text…

On exactly the tenth day of this seventh month is the day of atonement; it shall be a holy convocation for you, and you shall humble your souls and present an offering by fire to the Lord. You shall not do any work on this same day, for it is a day of atonement, to make atonement on your behalf before the Lord your God. Leviticus 23:27-28 NASB

So the original intent of the New Year was that it would be a day to humble our souls. Imagine that. Humility is a forgotten word in both Hebrew and American culture.

But when the rest of America celebrates the New Year it isn’t a biblical date either! But we can still own this sort of thinking for Jesus. For example, by many reasons, traditionally Yom Kippur is the most solemn day of the year. It is a day of fasting, repentance, self-reflection, and a return to holy thinking. Those are GREAT things we should want!

The root word used in Leviticus is kāpar which has a glossed (regularly known as or thought of but not necessarily correct) meaning of “to cover,” or “conceal” which is also tied to reformed theology. Some have (IMHO) wrongly asserted that the word then would mean to “cover sin” as such to pacify the wrath of the deity in this case Yahweh by making atonement such as I explained the Babylonians believed about the gods and the temple of Marduk. It is suggested then that sin was covered until Christ could rightly atone. Sounds good, and likely what you might have heard at church, but more traditionally based on the gods of the exile than biblically accurate. There is very little evidence for this view. As many scholars have pointed out, the connection is at best weak as the Hebrew root is not used to mean “cover.” To say it correctly, the Hebrew verb is never used in the simple or Qal stem, but only in the derived intensive stems. These intensive stems often indicate not emphasis, but merely that the verb is derived from a noun whose meaning is more basic to the root idea.^[1]

Ok so what does that mean or what is a better view? (Kippūr) is the word for Atonement that is also used today in the name of the Jewish holiday yom kippur “day of atonement” (also associated with a Biblical new year) which was the tenth day of the seventh month, Tishri. This solemn day was the only day of fasting prescribed for Israel. It was celebrated by a special sin offering for the whole nation. On that day only would the high priest enter within the inner veil bearing the blood of the sin offering (cf. Heb 9:7). A second goat was released as an escape goat to symbolize the total removal of sin.^[2]

Jewish tradition ultimately adopted here a synthesis (not always elegant) of the two views. Throughout the Day of Atonement, the liturgy bemoans the burden of sin we labor under, and our inadequacy to measure up in God’s sight. But at the end of the day, in the Ne’ilah (Closing ) Prayer, the burden of sin is gone; the Jew is confident of having achieved forgiveness, by a combination of human repentance and divine mercy, and proceeds forward refreshed, optimistic about our power to do good in the world under God’s guidance.”[3] In other words, despite some terrible history, the final idea of the Hebraic New Year comes back to be pretty Biblical. God has always forgiven. (We actually didn’t need Jesus on the cross for that part contrary to many people’s opinions, but the cross accomplished a slew of other things we did need. God has always offered complete forgiveness.)

The New Year is about a return to what is of God – TOV.

Most of you know that X44 has done a good bit of research in this area. Here is a link to our video series on atonement:

If you want to read a better version I would suggest this:

Better views of atonement:

Well first let’s get the word right.

Leviticus 16 – gives us the instructions for the day of Atonement. Notice in Lev 16:2 is the noun for atonement (a place not an action).

Aaron must make a burnt offering (the gift) and a sin (purification or decontamination) offering before entering the Holy place. So, there is a gift to God to say, “Hey I want to spend some time in your presence” and a purification offering. There is no wrath debt or substitution to be seen here.

2 goats are selected for Israel: The sin offering goat and the goat that will “bear the sin”. Lots are cast to see which goat fulfills which role.

The “Sin” offering goat

Both goats are called a sin/purification/decontamination offering and the reason is that is that the lots have not been cast yet over these two. So, since we don’t know yet which ones going to be the actual sin offering, they’re both referred to that way. We don’t know which one’s going to be for the Lord, which one was to be for azazel.
a better way to translate “Atonement” here is to make expiation with it, or to make a purging with it. The whole notion of the sin offering is decontamination and purification. It is a reset back to holiness. (starting to see new year implications yet?)

Propitiation or Expiation (KPR language)

Both words presuppose that there is a barrier that must be removed to overcome sin. We need to look to see what is acted upon in order to translate KPR correctly. As we noted atonement language means to cover or purge but is the issue with humans, God, or sin?

Propitiation: means that the barrier lies within God himself; thus, it is usually interpreted as an action to satisfy divine wrath against sinners. This was the pagan concept of sacrifice, but Christians who hold to this say that God’s justice must be exercised, and sin must be paid for in order to receive forgiveness and the aversion of God’s wrath. (This is PSA language)
Expiation: means that the barrier lies outside of God, within humankind and/or a stain they leave on the world (sacred space), it is often interpreted as an action aimed at removing sin. To cover, wipe, or to purge sin.
Mercy Seat Translation-This is a common translation, reading the ESV, this is not a good translation although it’s a traditional one. More literally, if atonement (kapper) means to purge then kapporeth (noun) should be the place of purging. In other words, we would really focus on the location not the result, because calling it the mercy seat is sort of reading the theological result into the lemma. That’s why it’s not a great translation. The place is the cover of the Ark in the Holy of Holies which is the footstool of God’s throne. This is a throne room scene.

The Scapegoat or the goat for azazel

The propitiation view (punishment). The goat bears the sin and wrath.
The azazel refers to the location (the desert) which theologically if the place where sin and evil lives or belongs (not in God’s camp)
Azazel is a proper name. This was the leader of the fallen angels/demons in 2nd temple Judaism. The goat transports the sin to Azazel.

Because the goat was bearing the sin (carrying) it could not be a sacrifice because God only gets spotless pure animals (what does that do for your New Testament theology of the cross if Jesus was imputed our sin?)
One more issue here is the laying on of hands and confessing Israel’s sins over the goat. Some argue that this is the connection that all laying on of hands must equal that the animal is bearing sins and the laying on of hands is the transfer. In this instance this is true. But as we saw in every instance of hand laying it is not about sin, so we cannot jump to conclusions when we deal with other sacrifices that as we saw don’t deal with that concept. Laying on of hands is about setting something apart or consecrating it for a task.

Atonement Conclusions

Goat 1- the purification offering, is to cleanse the temple objects. Blood is not applied to anyone.
The scapegoat is sent to Azazel. So, sin, the forces of death, are removed from the camp. This connects God is rescuing his people from the forces of death.
Neither of these goats are punished. It’s about expelling or purging God’s space (so Expiation!). The first goat (the one that dies) is more about cleaning the throne room of the stain of sin. The scapegoat doesn’t get killed (he’ll probably die in the desert).
This is all about resetting sacred space (getting back to Eden)

New Testament

The Exodus is the primary motif of what is going on at the cross, but the Biblical authors do see the day of atonement being fulfilled in Jesus. We see Jesus as all 3 actors in the Day of Atonement: The purification offering goat, the scapegoat, and the priest.

1 John 3:8- Christ came to destroy the works of the Devil. Both Exodus and Day of Atonement deal with this concept.

Romans 3:21-26, 1 John 2:1-2, 1 John 4:10, Heb 13:11-12, Matt 27:28-31, Heb 9:18-26, Heb 10:8-17

Addressing PSA notions of the Day of Atonement:
- Neither goat is taking the place of anyone
- Neither goat is getting wrath poured out upon them
- The goat doesn’t make a payment for forgiveness but is the one who carries it away. Remission.
- Expiation (defined as purging) is the action taken- like the goat taking the sins back to where they belong. Not only does he take it back to where it belongs, he defeats it for good!
- Sin is seen as the forces of death and they have no place in sacred space, Jesus removes them by his blood and carries them out of the camp. Dissolves them- His blood is the ultimate ritual detergent.
- Jesus is the place where heaven and earth meet (the “mercy seat”) he’s not the propitiation to satisfy God’s wrath. This is a rescue of humanity and the world from the powers

The Day of Atonement was all about resetting holiness in sacred space and not about appeasing God’s wrath. It was about purging the sin from God’s presence

CONCLUSION:

Whatever date we want to associate as the New year, the idea biblically has always centered around a return to TOV – the way that God intended. Jesus shows us the way back after much brokenness to what God asks of us. To be TOV. To reflect on how to live in Holiness, Devotion, and Tribulation. How to Live in the Joy that we were created for. To bring Heaven to earth. To Celebrate Life here and now in the name of Jesus. To return to what is Holy and who we were made to be – a Set Apart Holy Royal Priesthood.

^[1] Harris, R. L. (1999). 1023 כָפַר. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., pp. 452–453). Chicago: Moody Press.

^[2] Ibid.

[3] Gordon Tucker, in Abraham Heschel, Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations (ed. and trans. by Gordon Tucker, Continuum International Publishing Group, New York, 2007), p. 169.