Roberts - The rise and fall of the Nephilim: the untold story of fallen angels, giants on earth, and their extraterrestrial origins

The Untold Story of Fallen Angels,
Giants on the Earth, and Their
Extraterrestrial Origins

SCOTT ALAN ROBERTS

Copyright 2012 by Scott Alan Roberts

All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher, The Career Press.

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE NEPHILIM
EDITED BY JODI BRANDON
TYPESET BY EILEEN MUNSON
Cover design by Scott Alan Roberts
Printed in the U.S.A.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Roberts, Scott Alan.

The rise and fall of the Nephilim : the untold story of fallen angels, giants on earth, and their extraterrestrial origins / by

Scott Alan Roberts.

p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-1-60163-197-8--ISBN 978-1-60163-629-4 (ebook) 1. Giants-Miscellanea. 2.

Angels--Miscellanea.. 3.

Civilization, Ancient-Extraterrestrial influences. 4. Ethiopic book of Enoch-Criticism,
interpretation, etc. 5. Bible. O.T.

Genesis--Criticism, interpretation, etc. I. Title.

BF1999.R5495 2012

001.94--dc23

2011042616

For Raini.

Thanks for loving me through the process
and putting up with
my vacant pillow
on those dark, late nights
when the Muse came calling.

Two things I learned while writing this book: One is that it is far less daunting writing a book than it is completing a book. And two, the process itself would be much less fraught with distraction and delay were my office located outside my home. And on the heels of having said that, I want to thank my wife, Raini, who did everything in her power to help keep the process streamlined, while wrangling our toddler son, Flynn. I want to thank her for all the cups of coffee and meals she brought to me here at my desk while I stared at this computer screen and tapped away at the keyboard. Thats love. Her burgeoning pregnancy swelled during the writing of this book, and we watched the baby girl kick as I read and re-read and re-re-read this book out loud to her. Without Raini, this monumental task would have been far less enjoyable a process, and I want to express how happy I am that she was here.

My dear friend Marie D. Jones, a well-established author, has not only been a friend, but a great sounding board. It was Marie who saw my manuscript before it was really even a manuscript at all, and encouraged me to pursue it to its present form. She has been a great help, listening to my woes, worries, caterwauling, excitements, and downright exhausted frustrations. I want to thank her for reading, critiquing, and encouraging. Without her, this book would not be a reality.

Craig Hines is a true friend and a grossly out-of-proportion inspiration. From the day we first met, we have engaged in many conversations fraught with philosophy, theology, cosmology, and just about every -ology in between. He is a true scholar and has been an invaluable source and encouragement as I wrote this book.

Micah Hanks of the GralienReport.com has been a friend who has kept the fire burning beneath my feet. There were times I seriously considering quitting, but he read the early manuscript and was an uplifting source of encouragement. Thanks for being there, Micah.

Dr. Charles Aling, while you may not agree with everything I have written in this book, I want to thank you for being the very first person who ever instilled in me a love of biblical mysteries and archaeology. From the very first time you sat down with me in the crowded narthex of our church, way back when I was 12 years old and doing a report on the Pharaoh of the Exodus, you have always been willing to be my consultant, my seminary professor, and now my friend. Thank you for the irreplaceable spot you hold in my heart and mind. And thank you for instilling in me the love of history.

My daughters Abigail and Bryn are the lights of my life. They have always been there believing in everything I do, every step of the way. Now they are out on their own and I want to let them know how much I believe in them.

Sam, I am so happy you are here. Sorry for all the postponed walks and excursions while I was completing this book. I look forward to spending some extra time with you in the upcoming weeks.

Flynn, while you are too young to remember these things with any clarity later on in life, your many interruptions, coffee-cup tippings, and general calls for my attention are eclipsed by my wonderful memories of you sitting in my lap while I typed. You are a complete joy to me and a living response to the question Why?

For all of you who have enjoyed my lectures and writing over the years, thank you for your support, encouragement, and for being here.

by Craig Hines

The first drop of water splashed atop his head unexpectedly, causing him to cease his work and glance upward. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his tired eyes struggling to focus on the darkness forming in the heavens above. Another raindrop fell against his skin, and his gaze returned to the ground. His own reflection rippled chaotically across the newly formed puddles at his feet. As a crowd began to gather around him, his trembling hands reached for his tools and collected them into his arms. It was time.

Is this your lords great deluge, Noah, you mad man? yelled one of the bystanders, inciting the rest of the mob to laugh mockingly amongst themselves.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder boomed and cut through the crowds licentious laughter. They were instantly silent as uneasiness began to rise up within their guts, much like the pools of water growing beneath their feet.

Noah rushed toward the ark, the anxious voices of his family calling to him from within the wooden structure. His progress was hindered as he trudged through the mud and water. Although his sandal became lodged in the mire, he slipped his foot free and continued to run. He refused to be deterred by the unrelenting shouts and panicking cries of his pursuers. His sons hurried him aboard and began to draw the large door closed.

From inside, Noah could hear the screams of the people he once called friendstheir bloodied fists clawing and thumping against the wooden structure. He rested himself against a support beam, desperately trying to catch his breath. Before long, he collapsed to the floor in a sobbing mess. The cacophony was too horrible to bear and threatened to drive him to madness. Yet he soon found relief as it was drowned out by the pounding of the rain, as though millions of stones were pummeling the rooftop. He wanted to help, but he knew that it was too late for them. It had been too late long before the rains had ever started.