Original Meaning
WE MUST MAKE two major decisions about this passage. The obvious one is the identity of “the sons of God.” Less discussed but potentially significant is the relationship of these verses to the surrounding context. We will begin with the latter issue.
Relationship to Context
THREE OPTIONS EXIST for relating this pericope to its context. (1) Verses 1–4 serve as part of the introduction to the Flood narrative. In this case, 6:1–8 stands together as a presentation of the reasons for the Flood. (2) Verses 1–8 are the summary and conclusion of chapters 4–5. The increase in population and the reference to marriages are appropriate to the context of genealogies, and 6:9 opens with a new toledot. (3) Verses 1–4 are independent both from what comes before and after—a separate episode documenting the advance of sin. As such it stands in the middle of five episodes (Adam and Eve, Cain, sons of God, Noah, Babel).
Each of these options has merit and can be argued persuasively.1 I am comfortable adopting parts of each. From a literary standpoint, the toledot (6:9) makes it clear that the narrator intends this to be included with the previous section. If so, 6:1–4 cannot be entirely separated from 6:5–8 and should therefore be seen as one of the factors leading up to the situation that brought on the Flood, though not necessarily as “the” cause of the Flood. Just as the Cain and Abel narrative is literarily linked to the account of Adam and Eve (and occurs in the same toledot), yet is a separate offense episode, so it is possible to accept the literary and thematic linkage of 6:1–4, yet to consider it as a separate offense episode. That is how I will treat it here.
Identity of the Sons of God
THIS ISSUE IS one of the thorniest in Old Testament interpretation. Thorough summaries of the positions may be found in any commentary or Bible dictionary, so we will be brief. The earliest view, held unanimously until the second century A.D. as far as we know, is that “the sons of God” were angelic beings. In this view there is a material distinction between “the sons of God” and “the daughters of men,” and the offense is the transgression of boundaries. The major strength of this interpretation is that in the three other instances in the Old Testament where the exact phrase “sons of God” is used (Job 1:6; 2:1; 38:7), it refers to angels.
In the second and third centuries, both Jewish interpreters and Christian interpreters began to diverge from this consensus, but in different directions. Jewish commentators took the path of identifying “the sons of God” as rulers. Christian commentators beginning with Julius Africanus promoted the view that “the sons of God” were men from the line of Seth while “the daughters of men” were women from the line of Cain. This view entered the mainstream in Augustine’s City of God and soon became the Christian interpretation. It remained so through the Reformation and into the nineteenth century.
Both Jewish and Christian deviations were premised on the mitigation of the lexical conclusion that the phrase “sons of God” must refer to angels. Each proposed alternative suggestions for how “the sons of God” could be distinguished from “the daughters of men.” The “rulers” option found passages where human rulers were classified as ʾ elohim (e.g., Ex. 22:8–9; Ps. 82:6) and thereby posited a social distinction between the two groups, with the offense being polygamy or promiscuity. The “Sethites” option found passages where those who were spiritual were designated as God’s children (Deut. 14:1) and thereby posited a spiritual distinction between the two groups, with the offense being spiritual exogamy (marriage outside the group).
The possibility of either the “rulers” view or the “Sethites” view can only be considered in relation to how vulnerable the lexical case for the “angels” view is. If the lexical case for “sons of God” meaning “angels” is solid and unassailable, then the issue is resolved. Both divergent views exploit the fact that not everyone identified as divine progeny is supernatural. Rulers of the Davidic line are identified as being in a father/son relationship with God (2 Sam. 7:14), as are the Israelites as his spiritually elect people. The discussion then becomes a case of semantic possibilities (what could “the sons of God” mean?) versus the actual lexical base (how is the phrase “the sons of God” actually used?).
How should we assess this methodologically? The narrowly delineated lexical base (i.e., based on the use of the phrase, not just the possibilities inherent in the words) offers the purest level of synchronic analysis. In English we are well aware of the special meaning that set phrases can have despite the existence of other logical possibilities. If someone bears the title “Secretary of the Interior,” it doesn’t matter how many different ways there are to understand “secretary” or what things have interiors. The usage of the phrase as a whole must be investigated to determine its meaning, and such investigation will lead to recognizing the title as applicable only to a cabinet position. Methodologically, this puts the “angels” view in a position of strength.
Nevertheless, synchronic analysis is usually dependent on a wide lexical base to achieve confident conclusions. The fact that there are only three other occurrences of the phrase “the sons of God” and that they all occur in the linguistically isolated book of Job give significant pause for concluding that this Old Testament lexical base is sufficient to dictate exclusive meanings. This is the weak link in the armor of the “angels” view.
To summarize, if the lexical base, however limited it might be, points to angels, why should that view not be preferred? The answer is threefold: (1) Cohabitation between angels and humans has no immediately obvious connection with the purposes of Genesis; (2) an angelic intrusion is considered out of place in the sequence of episodes recounting the advance of human sin; and (3) the mythological tone is at odds with life in the real world as we know it, though in the end our interest is in the world as the Israelites knew it. Even so, the burden of proof lies with the other two to build a convincing lexical case for either “rulers” or “Sethites” and to offer an interpretation that makes sense in the literary, cultural, and theological context.
I believe such a case can be built for a variation of the “rulers” view. Before proceeding to that presentation, I will offer a brief assessment of the Sethite view. The idea that a spiritual distinction differentiates “the sons of God” from “the daughters of men” is premised on a number of schematic assumptions about the previous chapters. This view takes 4:26 as referring only to the line of Seth. It then ignores the question of the existence of other lines of descent from Adam and Eve (besides Cain and Seth), assumes that the lines of Cain and Seth remained separate for millennia, and extrapolates from the statements about Enoch and Lamech that the entire line of Seth was godly and the entire line of Cain was wicked.
This sort of schema may have been attractive for the broad theological strokes of Augustine’s two cities, but it enjoys little support from close exegesis. These points do not constitute evidence; they are simply unwarranted presuppositions. Besides the difficulty of accepting the assumptions required by this position (all of which are improbable), there are problems with the evidence. Even though “sons of God” can be defended as a spiritual designation, it is much more difficult to see the phrase “daughters of men” in theological terms referring to females of the line of Cain. Why should “daughters of men” be used to describe wicked people? In the matter of the offense, it is difficult to extrapolate the warnings against elect Israel intermarrying and apply them to a group (Sethites) that has not been designated elect and has not even been identified as ethnically isolated.
The problem with the “rulers” position as historically maintained in Jewish interpretation was that it could not offer a plausible identification of the offense. Polygamy is not proscribed in the Old Testament, so that is not a good candidate. Promiscuity is a difficult accusation to maintain when the text uses the terminology for marriage (“married”). This obstacle can be surmounted by the alternative suggestion that the offense is the practice of the “right of the first night.” In this practice, the local authority (whether king, governor, or lord of the manor) imposes his will on his people by demanding and exercising the right to spend the first night with any woman who is being married.2
This practice is universally recognized as oppressive. That such a practice existed in the ancient world is attested in the Gilgamesh Epic, where it is offered as the most telling evidence of Gilgamesh’s tyranny. The wording of Genesis 6:2, that “the sons of God . . . married any of them they chose,” would be an apt description of this practice. That is to say, though marrying anyone they wanted could describe a number of practices, the exercise of the right of the first night would be one way of doing so.
If this exercise of the right of the first night is the offense, the offenders are people in authority. This theme fits well with the progression of offenses in these early chapters: individuals (Adam and Eve) → family (Cain) → society leaders (sons of God) → everyone (Flood). The question remains, however, as to the extent to which this interpretation can be defended in connection with the other details of the passage.
Beyond the biblical evidence mentioned above that kings were at times construed as sons of deity and that authorities were occasionally designated ʾ elohim when they were engaged in duties as representatives of God, the ancient Near Eastern literature also provides many examples to illustrate the belief that kings were divine progeny. This does not necessarily mean that the king was deified. The titulary of the ancient Near East regularly indicated divine descent of kings, even outside Egypt’s context of deified pharaohs. This notion of divine descent as a rhetorical expression of divine election and legitimization of the king was typical in royal inscriptions. From Sumerian times (e.g., Eannatum, Gudea), through Old Babylonian (e.g., Hammurabi), into Middle Assyrian (e.g., Tukulti-Ninurta) and Neo-Assyrian (e.g., Ashurbanipal), it was part of the royal prerogative to claim divine heritage.3
Again the Gilgamesh Epic offers an example of this practice. Gilgamesh is hailed as “flesh of the gods” and is portrayed as two-thirds god and one-third man. The Bible certainly gives no credibility to such claims, but such is the rhetoric of the ancient world. Putative claims are recorded elsewhere in the text without being theologically endorsed (e.g., Judg. 11:24). Thus, the title “son of God” can be identified as a royal motif both in the Bible and outside of it.
We have twice now found descriptions in the Gilgamesh Epic that are parallel to the account in Genesis 6:1–4. There are a few other elements in these verses that likewise find some parallel in this epic. Verse 4 refers to “the heroes of old.” Gilgamesh epitomizes these ancient heroes, and the epic showcases that aspect of him. It is also intriguing that the core of the epic recounts Gilgamesh’s search for immortality. In verse 3, the fact that God places limits on human life spans shows that to be a concern here as well.
I do not bring up these parallels to suggest that Genesis borrowed from the Gilgamesh Epic or to imply that Genesis 6 is talking about Gilgamesh. As always, the ancient literature is a window to the culture. This epic simply shows us that the elements in 6:1–4 fit comfortably into what we know of the ancient Near Eastern culture. The following chart summarizes the parallels between Genesis 6:1–4 and Gilgamesh.4
Genesis | Gilgamesh |
Sons of God | Gilgamesh is portrayed as 2/3 god and 1/3 man (1.48) and “flesh of the gods” (9.49) |
Took wives, whomever they chose | Gilgamesh practices the right of the first night: “He will couple with the wife-to-be, he first of all, the bridegroom after” (P 160) |
He is mortal; his days will be 120 years | The Anunnaki (netherworld gods) fix the fates and have established Death and Life (10.319–322) |
Nephilim, giants (gibborim) | Gilgamesh’s heroism (1.30); he is tall (eleven cubits in the Hittite version, 1.8), magnificent, and terrible (1.37), with a six-cubit stride (1.57) |
Other Details
IN THIS INTERPRETATION “the sons of God” are the heroic tyrant kings of old.5 “The daughters of men” refer to any female in the kingdom. The limitations on life span have the purpose of shortening the long, oppressive reigns of these tyrants. The reference to “the Nephilim” simply indicates that this was the heroic age. This interpretation may sound straightforward enough, but we need to address several difficult exegetical issues, at least in summary fashion.
Contend. The verb translated “contend” (yadon) occurs only here in the Hebrew Bible.6 Other translations choose “strive” (NASB, NKJV) or “abide” (NJPS, NRSV with support of LXX and Vulgate). Wenham and Westermann, following Cassuto,7 also adopt “abide.” But no Hebrew root accounts for this form, and none of the options suggested from comparative Semitics have won consensus. The specific form used here suggests it is the Qal imperfect of an unknown root dnn. In Akkadian, the comparable root dananu means “to become strong.”8 This would plausibly yield something like, “My spirit will not sustain humankind indefinitely” and provides a suitable lead in to the limitations set on human life span.
For he is mortal. This clause is introduced by another word that occurs only here, bešaggam, which the NIV simply translates “for,” taking the word as a combination of a preposition (be), a relative particle (ša), and an adverb (gam). Any translation is speculative. If I may add one more speculation to the list, based on the context here and the use of šaggam without the preposition in Ecclesiastes 1:17; 2:15; and 8:14, I am intrigued by an adverbial translation along the lines of “irrepressibly, undeniably, or assuredly.”9 The idea then is that flesh will prevail in the end. The uncertainties of this verse caused by yadôn and bešaggam preclude using it in any determinative way either exegetically or theologically.
One hundred and twenty years. If the first part of the verse were intelligible, it might be clear whether this 120 years refers to a shorter life span for people or the length of the grace period before the Flood.10 Those who favor the latter interpretation have at times unnecessarily concluded that Noah took 120 years to build the ark. But even if the 120 does represent the time left until the Flood, there is no hint in the text that all of this period was occupied by Noah’s building activity. Furthermore, the word choice favors the interpretation that sees the 120 in connection to life span—specifically the reference to mortality and the use of “his days.”11 But if the reference is to life span, why do we not see 120 as the norm for the patriarchs, who instead lived longer? The only solution I offer is that the patriarchs, as God’s chosen ones, enjoyed the favor of a longer endowment of the Spirit of God that gave life.
Nephilim, heroes, and children. The Nephilim are referred to only in this passage and in Numbers 13:33, where they are listed among the inhabitants of the land of Canaan at the time of the Conquest. Three approaches have been used to try to identify them. (1) Etymology. Since the Hebrew root npl means “to fall,” meanings such as “fallen ones” or “those who fall [i.e., prey] on others” have been common suggestions. We have only to recall that etymology is an unreliable guide to meaning in order to hold this option at arm’s length. (2) Association. In Numbers 13:33 the spies speak of the descendants of Anak, who were of considerable size. The descendants are associated with the Nephilim in that passage, so some consider the Nephilim giants. (3) General context. In both passages the Nephilim appear as renowned warrior heroes. They are identified with the “heroes of old” at the end of Genesis 6:4, but their relationship to the children born to the sons of God is a bit more tenuous. I am inclined to take verse 4 as indicating that the actions of the sons of God took place during the heroic age, though perhaps they were also seen as the offspring of these unions.
Bridging Contexts
NEW TESTAMENT EVIDENCE. Second Peter 2:4 mentions some sin committed by the angels but gives no details. The punishment he mentions is that they are held in chains or pits of darkness reserved for judgment. In Jude 6 the sin is given a phrase of explanation: They did not keep their own domain but abandoned their proper abode. Again, being chained in darkness is the punishment. What must be determined is whether these angels being punished are considered angels involved in the events of Genesis 6. The other alternative is that they are angels involved in the primeval fall of Satan.
It is true that the punishment cited in Peter and Jude is the same punishment meted out to the angels in 1 Enoch’s interpretation of Genesis 6, but it must also be admitted that this same punishment is cited in the book of 1 Enoch on other occasions as applied to disruptive angels.12 Furthermore, Jude does not cite marriage of angels to human women, though he easily could have. Finally, to speak of an act of porneia13 by the angels, as Jude does, is inappropriate in describing Genesis 6, for there the women are taken as wives, whereas porneia is usually reserved for extramarital sexual activity.14 Having concluded, therefore, that the New Testament does not endorse an “angels” view, we will proceed with the “rulers” view in this section and the next.
Rulers view. It should be noted that neither the sons of God nor the Nephilim are treated as individual members of particular genealogies. No names, ancestors, or descendants are specifically mentioned. This is one of many cases in Genesis where the author’s selection process has culminated in a situation where as readers we are not told the whole story. Perhaps the Israelites of Moses’ time had names to put to these individuals and knew much more about them, though that is not necessarily the case. Nevertheless, I assume that the intended audience was well aware of who the sons of God were and who the Nephilim were, so these groups did not have to be identified to them. All of this indicates a story outside the biblical story. Our ability to fill in the details of the story outside the story is limited. As is usually the case, the narrator has only given as much as we need to see the point he is trying to establish.
According to the “rulers” view, this pericope stands literarily as a bridge between the genealogies and the Flood, but stands rhetorically as an independent episode of the author’s tracing of the advance of blessing and sin. The increase in population has been the regular indication of the functioning of the blessing and continues in that role here. The advance of sin is the more noticeable element. If Genesis 3 represents the fall of humankind and Genesis 4 evidences the fall of the family, Genesis 6:1–4 addresses the fall of society—the next step away from God, demonstrated here, is institutionalized oppression.
God responds to this increasing sin by limiting life spans, thereby giving less time for power to corrupt and for corruption to establish routines of oppression. The Israelites therefore understand that oppressive regimes are the result of sin and that God has chosen, as before, not to eliminate the problem but contain it to some extent. God’s mark on Cain was designed to contain the family retaliation; his limiting length of life was designed to curtail long-term oppression.
Contemporary Significance
AS WE SEEK to apply the passage, we must again ask what kind of application we expect. In the introduction I noted how common it is for us to think that for the Bible to be practical and relevant, it must give us a course of action; yet it is more common in the Old Testament for its practical teaching to give us a new way of thinking. It alerts us to truths we must be aware of. Whether those truths concern God, human nature, or, as in this case, the nature of sin, they are intrinsically relevant to our worldview development. This passage has no actions to commend to the reader, only truths about the impact of sin on the world.
Corrupt rulers and their power to corrupt society. What happens when oppression becomes institutionalized? In Genesis 1–11 the institutionalization of oppression is the last step that eventuates in the condition described in 6:5: “The LORD saw how great man’s wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time.” If rulers and leaders are oppressive or corrupt, there is either a double standard (by which the population is held accountable to a level of behavior from which the rulers are exempt) or the moral fiber of the population erodes away following the example of its leaders. This phenomenon is observable at every level of behavior, whether violence breeds violence, corruption (e.g., bribes or extortion) breeds corruption, racism breeds racism, sexual misconduct breeds sexual misconduct, or lies breed lies.
(1) In the double-standard category, the bottom line is that actions have more impact than words. In the immediate aftermath of William Clinton’s impeachment hearings, as it became clear that faithfulness, truth, and full disclosure were not among his virtues, the country was involved in military strikes first in Kosovo and then in Iraq. In the government’s rhetoric against Yugoslavia’s Slobodan Milosevic and Iraq’s Saddam Hussein, the accusations kept returning to holding those leaders accountable for faithfulness to their word, truth-telling, and full disclosure. The irony was conspicuous. It is hypocritical for someone in a position of power to hold others accountable to a standard that he or she indiscriminately violates.
This is true of parents, of pastors, and of civic officials. Society disintegrates under the weight of double standards. This includes the present attempt made by politicians to insist that their private lives have nothing to do with their public office. Ravi Zacharias sounds this warning:
The time has come to give careful attention to whether public life and private behavior can indeed be severed with impunity. Perhaps in the short run gains in single issues may be made, but in the long stretch this thinking will destroy the soul of the culture. If those who are empowered with public trust impeach their own character in private, it does matter, and it ought to matter. One can no more reconcile immorality in private with a call to public integrity than one can reconcile being a racist in private with being unprejudiced in public.15
(2) In the erosion of moral fiber category, which I believe more accurately describes the situation in Genesis 6:1–4, many examples exist. A brief summary of a few of them will be sufficient to make the point. The clearest illustrations have occurred when a particular group of people has been institutionally dehumanized and popular opinion adopts the stance of the government. From Haman’s plot against the Jews in the book of Esther, to the treatment of the Aztecs and Incas, to the nineteenth-century U.S. government Indian policies, this pattern can be documented over and over again. As we look at our own contemporary society, we must acknowledge that despite the attempts of city governments to effect change, there continue to be cases of police (an arm of the government) oppressively targeting minority groups for everything from tickets to beatings to criminal indictments. On the international level, examples of oppression can be drawn from Rwanda, Cambodia, Uganda, China, or Russia, but let us look briefly at two notable cases: the South African program of apartheid and the Holocaust.
The relationships between the Dutch settlers in South Africa and the native African population had always been strained. “Grand Apartheid” became government policy in the 1960s and mandated territorial separation and police repression. The government thereby institutionalized racial discrimination. The dehumanization of the black population included denationalization as blacks were corralled into the most nonproductive parts of the country and made citizens of the “homelands” rather than citizens of South Africa. Classification of citizens into groups (white, black, colored) was used as an instrument of repression as nonwhites were required to carry passes and were forbidden even to protest against the laws under threat of severe punishment.
The spread of this dehumanization became evident in how local officials and private citizens participated in it. Even low-level police officials could detain a supposed offender without a hearing for up to six months. It was not unusual for such individuals to die while in custody, with evidence suggesting gruesome acts of torture. For those cases that made it to trial, sentences often doomed the “offenders” to death, banishment, or imprisonment for life. A large percentage of the Dutch population adopted and participated in the government’s policies.
Similar trends can be seen in the behavior of the European population in the Holocaust. Though some have proposed that only a deep-seated anti-Semitism could have allowed for the development of the Hitler regime and the resulting Holocaust, another view is that the institutionalization of anti-Semitism in the government policies fostered an anti-Semitism among the population that previously either had not existed or had been successfully repressed by individuals. As Jews were dehumanized by the government, public sentiment followed the same track as neighbors informed on neighbors and even church people—and arguably good people—turned in those who dared to protect the human dignity of the Jewish population.
One of the explanations for this phenomenon is that government policy and/or the behavior of government officials provide a tacit indication of what is socially acceptable. If certain conduct is deemed socially acceptable, people will not be ashamed or secretive about being involved in that conduct. Certainly the truth of this can be seen in many areas of society today. Premarital sex, divorce, abortion, and homosexuality are all practices that our society has, at least to some extent, “liberated” from the stigma of social censure. As these practices become socially acceptable, they become more widely practiced, because we are inclined to follow our human appetites and self-interest, especially if they can be rationalized as acceptable.
In contemporary society, it is not just the behavior of the government or its officials that sets the standard for social acceptability; it is the media and its stars. When sex, violence, and alternative lifestyles become widely glorified through the media, it is natural that more and more people find the depicted behavior as acceptable. Even the illusion of social acceptability dulls the conscience. It is this dulling of the conscience that is at the root of the problem.
What can be done about a dull conscience? The only cure is to prick and prod it. This is accomplished by adopting a higher standard for comparison. In the Old Testament, God was set up as a standard. Consequently, the people were admonished to be holy as God is holy. Imitation became more straightforward with the incarnation because Jesus lived a human life and offered a pattern of living that was more discernible. Therefore Paul can urge us to be imitators of Christ (Eph. 5:1; Phil. 2:5). We can also use the example of other godly Christians to motivate us to godliness (1 Cor. 11:1; Phil. 4:9; 2 Thess. 3:7), though always recognizing that no one is perfect.
Certainly in all of the examples referred to in the above paragraphs, there were those who stood against the inclinations of society and were committed to doing what was right even though everyone around them was drifting with the tide. Without those committed individuals and the godly influence they represented, there was nothing to prevent a return to chaos. That is exactly what the text will show us by the time of Noah: He was the only remaining member of the resistance.
Perhaps it is appropriate, then, for us to ask ourselves which side we stand on. Are we siding with the oppressed and standing against the oppression that exists in our world, in our country, in our town? Or do we stand with the oppressors? If we do not stand against them, we tacitly stand with them.
Why does God not remove oppressive regimes? Ashurnasirpal, Antiochus Epiphanes, Herod, Caligula, Nero, Ivan the Terrible, Louis XVI, Mary Tudor, Rasputin, Stalin, Hitler, Chairman Mao, Idi-Amin, Noriega, Pol Pot, Milosevic, Saddam Hussein—this litany of tyrants represents only a small number of oppressors who have haunted history, leaving millions of corpses in their wake. In his Pulitzer prize-winning play about Job, J.B., Archibald Macleish’s characters consider the Jobs of history:
There must be
Thousands! What’s that got to do with it?
Thousands—not with camels either:
Millions and millions of mankind
Burned, crushed, broken, mutilated,
Slaughtered, and for what? For thinking!
For walking round the world in the wrong
Skin, the wrong-shaped noses, eyelids:
Sleeping the wrong night wrong city—
London, Dresden, Hiroshima.
There never could have been so many
Suffered more for less.16
Why does God allow it? This is a question that has kept many from belief in a good and powerful God. MacLeish again captures the question eloquently.
I heard upon his dry dung heap
That man cry out who cannot sleep:
“If God is God He is not good,
If God is good He is not God;
Take the even, take the odd,
I would not sleep here if I could
Except for the little green leaves in the wood
And the wind on the water.”17
It is a question that has plagued many millions who lived their lives in the shadow of tyranny and too often died at its hands. Accepting a God who would allow millions of innocent people to be tortured and killed is considered by some worse than worshiping a God who was powerless to stop it.
This question is in reality not different from questions we have raised in previous chapters. Why did God allow the tempter to do his work in the first place? Why did God not just start all over after Adam and Eve’s failure? Why was Cain banished instead of executed? And again, the answer must go back to the foundational issues. If humans were designed to be corruptible, sin must be a possibility. If sin is a possibility, oppression will exist, eventually on a large scale. If God were to wipe out the possibility of oppressive tyrants, he would have to wipe out sin; and to wipe out sin, he would have to eliminate corruptibility. If God were to eliminate corruptibility, we would be nothing but robots. That has not been his design. God’s procedure throughout these early chapters is generally not to eliminate the problem totally, but to isolate, limit, or restrict it in some way.
We are but flesh. One of the pressing goals of the human race since its inception has been somehow to erase the implications of this statement. Mortality holds inevitably the bleak prospect of death. In and of ourselves, we cannot rob the grave of its due. Gilgamesh may have embarked on the first recorded quest for immortality, but it was far from the last. Arthur’s search for the holy grail and Ponce de Leon’s search for the fountain of youth are two more prominent adventures with the same goal in mind. But for Christians, the statement that we are but flesh is no longer a declaration of doom. As C. S. Lewis observes, “[Death] is a safety-device, because once Man has fallen, natural immortality would be the one utterly hopeless destiny for him.”18 In this way we can see that the “punishment” in 6:3 again represents an act of grace (as with Cain). It offers the hope that comes with new beginnings.
One of the psychological benefits of a teaching career is that every three or four months you get to start over again. If a particular class is not going well or a student or combination of students is being difficult, no need to worry; in a few months the problem will be gone, and you get a chance to start again with a fresh class and a new beginning. Over the centuries many citizens have likewise found hope in the anticipation of being able to shout, “The king is dead, long live the king!” The framers of our constitution mandated four-year terms for the president so that we would have the opportunity to extract ourselves from bad situations. In the twentieth century, after Roosevelt’s multiple terms, the decision was made to make two terms the limit. There is wisdom in restricting the tenure of power. There is grace and hope in new beginnings. Thus, death holds out to us the promise of new beginnings.
Death is, in fact, what some modern people call “ambivalent.” It is Satan’s great weapon and also God’s great weapon: it is holy and unholy; our supreme disgrace and our only hope; the thing Christ came to conquer and the means by which he conquered.19