Were The Fathers Amillennial? An Evaluation Of Charles Hill’s Regnum Caelorum

By Brian C. Collins

[Brian C. Collins is Biblical Worldview Lead Specialist, BJU Press, Greenville, South Carolina.]

Abstract

Charles Hill’s Regnum Caelorum: Patterns of Millennial Thought in Early Christianity seeks to reverse the one-time consensus that the earliest church fathers held to a millennial, rather than an amillennial, viewpoint. At the heart of Hill’s argument is the claim that early millennialism and amillennialism were part of systems of eschatology in which fathers who held to the millennial position also held to a subterranean intermediate state, whereas fathers who held to the amillennial position also held to a heavenly intermediate state. Working from this claim, Hill asserts that a number of early fathers, along with the New Testament writers, held the amillennial position. This study demonstrates the linkage of millennial views and views of the intermediate state to be faulty on the grounds that the early Irenaeus held to both a heavenly intermediate state and to a millennium.

Review Of Hill’s Argument

According to many church historians, millennialism played a dominant role in the eschatology of the early church fathers.[1] In Regnum Caelorum: Patterns of Millennial Thought in Early Christianity, Charles Hill seeks to reverse the historical argument. He asserts that amillennialism dominated the early church and, in fact, preceded millennialism. Hill’s work is foundational for other amillennialists, who appeal to it to argue that premillennialism “was not the most widely held view” in the first centuries of the church.[2] However, a full-scale critique of Hill’s argument has not yet been written.

Though the earliest writers who explicitly addressed the millennium held a millennial view, Hill argues that both Justin and Irenaeus observed that some orthodox Christians were amillennial.[3] He proposes that these people can be identified by locating the place of millennial views within wider systems of eschatology. Those who affirmed a millennium also held that the redeemed exist in a subterranean intermediate state as they await the resurrection of the body. In contrast, early Christian writers who opposed millennialism all held that in the intermediate state the soul ascends to God’s presence in heaven.[4] Hill grants the theoretical possibility that a person could have simultaneously affirmed a heavenly intermediate state and a millennium, but he argues that no evidence exists for such a position within the early church.[5] He also sees a certain logic in the link between the intermediate state and millennial views. It would be “a serious and unconscionable retrogression” for a soul in the presence of God to return to earth for the millennium.[6]

Based on the link between a heavenly millennial state and amillennialism, Hill concludes that Clement of Rome, Ignatius, Polycarp, Athenagoras, Melito of Sardis, and others were amillennialists.[7] The most significant name on that list is Polycarp. Polycarp is the link between the apostle John and Irenaeus—between the apostle whose writing contains the key New Testament millennial text, and the chief early defender of millennialism.

If Polycarp held to an amillennial position, how did his student Irenaeus come to hold a millennial position? Hill argues that Irenaeus changed to the millennialist position in the course of writing Against Heresies. According to Hill, the early Irenaeus held to only one resurrection, after which there would be no procreation (1.10.1; 2.33.5; 3.23.7); the later Irenaeus taught a first resurrection, after which those in resurrected flesh would able to procreate (5.31.1). In 2.22.2 Irenaeus taught that the consummation would be followed immediately by judgment, but in 5.32.1 he said the judgment would follow an earthly reign. In 4.4.2 Irenaeus explained that the earthly Jerusalem was done away with in the new covenant, but in 5.34.4–35.2, Irenaeus spoke of the rebuilding of Jerusalem in the millennium.[8] Hill also argues that early in Against Heresies Irenaeus held to a heavenly intermediate state (3.16.4; 4.31.3 4.33.9) while later he insisted on a subterranean intermediate state (5.31–32).[9]

If Hill is correct, Irenaeus inherited from Polycarp an amillennial position that he later abandoned. Since Polycarp was a disciple of the apostle John, this would strengthen claims that John was not a millennialist. Indeed, Hill argues that John (and the rest of the New Testament authors) taught a heavenly intermediate state at odds with the millennial position’s subterranean intermediate state.[10] He follows this observation with an amillennial reading of Revelation 20.[11]

The mainstay of Hill’s argument is that early millennialism and amillennialism were systems of eschatology involving consistent views on the location of the intermediate state. Hill concludes that amillennialism was normative in the early church, and that it is the view traced back to the New Testament itself.

If it can be demonstrated that at least one early father held to both a heavenly intermediate state and to the millennial position, Hill’s argument becomes less compelling. Such a demonstration would challenge Hill’s claim that early millennial positions entailed specific, consistent positions on the intermediate state.

Irenaeus’s Millennial Position: Consistent Or Changing?

Hill’s argument hinges on the claim that Irenaeus changed his position from amillennial to millennial while writing Against Heresies. To evaluate Hill’s claims we must examine his argument that Irenaeus changed his position on five points: the resurrection, the order of eschatological events, Jerusalem, hermeneutical method, and the role of tradition.

The Resurrection

At the end of Against Heresies, Irenaeus clearly placed a resurrection directly after the tribulation and directly before an earthly millennium. He taught that the resurrected and the unresurrected saints who were on earth at the time of the Second Coming will live together in the millennium (5.35.1).

Hill holds that, in earlier books, Irenaeus affirmed only one resurrection at the consummation of all things. The earliest text Hill points to reads:

The Church, indeed, though disseminated throughout the world, even to the ends of the earth, received from the apostles and their disciples the faith in one God the Father Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth and the seas and all things that are in them; and in the one Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was enfleshed for our salvation; and in the Holy Spirit, who through the prophets preached the Economies, the coming, the birth from a Virgin, the passion, the resurrection from the dead, and the bodily ascension into heaven of the beloved Son, Christ Jesus our Lord, and His coming from heaven in the glory of the Father to recapitulate all things, and to raise up all flesh of the whole human race, in order that to Christ Jesus, our Lord and God, Savior and King, according to the invisible Father’s good pleasure, Every knee should bow [of those] in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess Him, and that He would exercise just judgment toward all; and that, on the other hand, He would send into eternal fire the spiritual forces of wickedness, and the angels who transgressed and became rebels, and the godless, wicked, lawless, and blasphemous people; but, on the other hand, by bestowing life on the righteous and holy and those who kept His commandments and who have persevered in His love—both those who did so from the beginning and those who did so after repentance—He would bestow on them as a grace the gift of incorruption and clothe them with everlasting glory.[12]

This summary doctrinal statement should not be expected to distinguish, number, or order the end-time resurrections. To say that Christ will come again and will “raise up all flesh of the whole human race” is not to deny that this resurrection will occur before a millennium for some, and after a millennium for others.

In addition, given that this is a statement of what the church catholic believed, and given Irenaeus’s view that tradition passes on accurate interpretations of Scripture,[13] it is unlikely that Irenaeus would have departed from this statement of doctrine.

Hill appeals to a second passage that he gives special weight (2.33.5):

And so, when the number [of the elect] that God himself ordained beforehand is complete, all who are enrolled for life will rise with their own bodies and souls and spirits with which they pleased God. Those, however, who deserve punishment will depart into it; they too will have their souls and their bodies with which they rebelled against God’s goodness. Both classes will cease to beget and to be begotten, to marry and to be given in marriage, so that the calculated multitude of humankind, predetermined by God, might when completed preserve the harmony of the Father.[14]

Hill sees in this passage evidence of a single resurrection, after which no procreation happens. He contrasts this with 5.35.1, in which procreation may still continue after the resurrection.

However, there is no need to posit a contradiction between the two passages. The resurrection in 5.35.1 occurs at the beginning of the millennium. The events of 2.33.5 must take place at the end of the millennium, since their time is “when the number [of the elect] that God himself ordained beforehand is complete,” and when the “calculated multitude of mankind” is completed. If 5.35.1 refers to a resurrection of the righteous preceding the millennium, and if 2.33.5 refers to a resurrection at the end of the millennium, there is no contradiction between these two passages.

The third text noted by Hill comes from book 3 (3.23.7):

By this [quotation from Ps. 90:13] he pointed out that sin (which had made humanity cold), which rose and spread itself out against the human race, would, together with death that held sway, be deprived of its power; and it would be trampled on by Him in the last times, namely, when the lion, that is, the Antichrist, would rush upon the human race; and He would put in chains the ancient serpent, and make it subject to the power of the human race, which had been conquered so that humanity could trample down all his [the dragon’s] power.

Now Adam had been conquered, and all life had been taken from him. Consequently, when the enemy was again conquered, Adam received life. And the last enemy to be destroyed is death, which had first taken possession of humankind. Wherefore, when humanity has been freed, shall come to pass the saying that is written, ‘Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?[15]

Some point out that the “last times” in Irenaeus refer to “the entire period after Christ’s ascension until his second coming,” therefore denying that this phrase refers to “the period after the coming of Christ.”[16] This is true of many of Irenaeus’s uses of the phrase, but he can also use the same phrase to refer to the very end (5.26.1). In this case, the connection with the Antichrist, whom Irenaeus held to be an eschatological figure, indicates Irenaeus is speaking of the very end. This text is not dissimilar from 5.35.1: “The resurrection of the righteous takes place after the coming of Antichrist and the destruction of all nations under his rule. In that resurrection the righteous will reign on the earth.”[17] There is no reason to conclude that Irenaeus has done anything in 3.23.7 other than summarize the events of the end, as the prophets often did.

The Order Of Eschatological Events

Hill holds that in book 2 of Against Heresies Irenaeus taught that the final judgment directly followed the consummation, whereas Irenaeus later held that the judgment followed the millennium.[18]

The early text is found within an argument by Irenaeus that the “acceptable year of the Lord” is not a twelve-month period nor the “day of vengeance” a twenty-four hour period that occurred during Jesus’s ministry:

So the day of vengeance spoken of is a day on which the Lord will render to each according to his deeds, that is, the judgment. The acceptable year of the Lord, however, is the present time, in which those who believe in him are called and become acceptable to God: that is, the entire time from his coming until the consummation, during which he acquires as his fruit those who are saved.[19]

Hill argues that this text from book 2 places the judgment directly after the consummation. This, he says, is in conflict with the following text from book 5, which places the judgment some time after the consummation:

Since, then the views of certain orthodox persons are influenced by heretical discourses, they end up ignorant of God’s plans, of the mystery of the resurrection of the righteous, and of the kingdom which will be the beginning of incorruption, that kingdom in which those who are accounted worthy will be gradually enabled to partake of the divine nature [2 Pet 1:4]. Consequently, it is necessary to tell them about those things, that it is proper for the righteous first to receive the inheritance which God promised to the fathers and to reign in it when they rise again, to behold God in this renovated creation, and that the judgment will take place subsequently.[20]

Again, there is no real conflict here. If “the acceptable year of the Lord” is the time in which people are still being saved, in a millennial view this time would extend through the millennium, and the judgment would follow the millennium. Whether or not Irenaeus has correctly interpreted Isaiah 61:2 and Luke 4:19, his statements are not contradictory.

The Role Of Jerusalem

Hill also claims that Irenaeus shifted his position about the role of Jerusalem. Whereas earlier Irenaeus claimed that Jerusalem’s role was obsolete in the new covenant era, he later claimed that Jerusalem would be rebuilt for the millennial kingdom.[21]

The passage about Jerusalem’s new covenant obsolescence is at the beginning of book 4:

The law originated with Moses but terminated with John. Christ had come to fulfil it: “the law and the prophets were in effect until John” [Luke 16:16]. Therefore Jerusalem, which had received its commencement with David [2 Sam 5:7] but had fulfilled its purpose, was eclipsed when the new covenant was revealed.[22]

Irenaeus’s statement about the rebuilding of Jerusalem occurs in book 5:

Then again, speaking of Jerusalem, and of Him reigning there, Isaiah declares, ‘Thus saith the Lord, Happy is he who hath seed in Zion, and servants in Jerusalem. Behold, a righteous king shall reign, and princes shall rule with judgment [Isa. 31:9; 32:1]. And with regard to the foundation on which it shall be rebuilt, he says: . . . [Isa. 54:11–14; 65:18]. If, however, any shall endeavour to allegorize [prophecies] of this kind, they shall not be found consistent with themselves in all points, and shall be confuted by the teaching of the very expressions [in question]. . . . Now all these things being such as they are, cannot be understood with reference to super-celestial matters, “for God,” it is said, “will show to the whole earth that is under heaven thy glory.” But in the times of the kingdom, the earth has been called again by Christ [to its pristine condition], and Jerusalem rebuilt after the pattern of the Jerusalem above.[23]

Once again, Hill sees conflict between two passages where no conflict need be found. In the first, Irenaeus maintained that the desertion of Jerusalem was no argument against Christianity. In that context, Irenaeus argued that Jerusalem need no longer be the center of true religion, since the Mosaic covenant is no longer in effect.[24] This argument about the present salvation-historical insignificance of Jerusalem need not negate the future significance of a rebuilt Jerusalem, from which the Messiah will reign.

Irenaeus’s Method Of Interpretation

Finally, Hill says that Irenaeus shifted from nonmillennial to millennial exegesis in his interpretation of Isaiah 11.[25] In Proof of the Apostolic Preaching, Irenaeus wrote:

But as regards the union and concord and tranquility of the animals of different kinds, and by nature mutually hostile and inimical, the elders say, that it will really be even so at the coming of Christ, when He is to be king of all. For he now tells in parable the gathering together in peaceful concord, through the name of Christ, of men of different nations and like character; for the assembly of the just, who are likened to calves and lambs and kids and children, will not be hurt at all by those, both men and women, who at an earlier time had become brutal and beastlike because of selfish pride, till some of them took on the likeness of wolves and lions, ravaging the weaker.[26]

In contrast to this parabolic interpretation, Irenaeus adopts a literal interpretation of Isaiah 11 in book 5 of Against Heresies. However, instead of positing a conflict, some scholars believe that in the Proof, Irenaeus simply added a parabolic interpretation of Isaiah 11 to the literal interpretation, which he affirmed came from the elders.[27] Indeed, Irenaeus may articulate precisely this position in Against Heresies:

I am quite aware that some persons try to refer these words to savage peoples of different nations and various habits who come to believe and, when they have believed, act in harmony with the righteous. But although this is true now with regard to some people coming from various nations to the harmony of the faith, nevertheless in the resurrection of the righteous the words will also apply to the animals mentioned.[28]

These passages do not represent a change in position. Rather, Irenaeus was willing for Isaiah 11 to be read as a parable for the present, as long as the literal futuristic reading was not denied. Again, passages that Hill sees as conflicting are actually in harmony.

Irenaeus, The Elders, And The Role Of Tradition In Irenaeus’s Thought

The supposed contradictions between the early and later Irenaeus become even less likely when placed in the context of Irenaeus’s view of tradition.

Irenaeus is the key figure in the post-apostolic church’s developing view of tradition. In the face of Gnostics who claimed access to a secret apostolic tradition, Irenaeus argued that the apostolic tradition was passed down from the apostles, to the elders, to the bishops of the church.[29] He developed this view of tradition to adjudicate which interpretations of Scripture were correct. In his view, the correct interpretation was the one that had been publicly taught generation after generation from the time of the apostles.[30] This view of tradition may be labeled the “coincidence view,” because in this view Scripture and tradition share the same content. Tradition confirms the correct interpretation of Scripture, but it does not add authoritative content.[31]

Hill admits that Irenaeus’s concept of tradition leads to a puzzle:

In part I we determined that when he wrote AH V.31 Irenaeus was countering both heretical and orthodox dissenters from chiliasm. We may, from our analysis above [which concluded that a father’s position on the intermediate state indicates his millennial position], be confident that he knew very well with whom he was differing. Judging from the Epistle of Vienne and Lyons, they included many from his own churches in Gaul. They must have included his venerated master Polycarp, Clement of Rome, whose letter to the Corinthians Irenaeus knew and esteemed (AH III.3.4), and Hermas (IV.20.2). . . . He was cognizant of the eschatology of Ignatius. . . .

This all leads to the somewhat puzzling conclusion that Irenaeus had to have known he was departing from a very widespread, traditional Christian eschatological hope when he undertook his rigorous defense of chiliasm. Only one momentous cause, towering above all others, is capable of accounting for this departure: the increasing urgency of the confrontation with Gnosticism.[32]

Would Irenaeus’s battle with Gnosticism account for this “puzzling” departure from “a very widespread, traditional Christian eschatological hope”? This is most unlikely. One of his chief arguments against Gnosticism was that he stood in line with the tradition of the elders that reached back to the apostles. But on Hill’s reading, at a fundamental point of debate (a point important enough to provoke a “momentous” change), the Gnostics stand in the traditional position, and Irenaeus outside it.[33] It is difficult to believe that Irenaeus would undercut a major part of his argument from book 3 in this way.

In addition, the claim that Irenaeus changed millennial positions and departed from the teaching of Clement of Rome, Polycarp, and others is inconsistent with Irenaeus’s own statements. In Proof 61 Irenaeus attributed the millennial reading of Isaiah 11 to the elders. The parabolic reading was attributed merely to “some persons,” and allowed to stand beside but not to supplant the interpretation of the elders.[34] Indeed, Irenaeus identified Papias (who he linked to Polycarp and the apostle John) as one who taught a millennial kingdom. By mentioning Polycarp and John, Irenaeus was indicating that these millennial teachings were relayed from the Lord, to John, to the elders.[35] This is precisely the kind of tradition that Irenaeus had earlier argued ought to be authoritative.[36] Irenaeus did not grant that he changed his position from the one handed on to him by Polycarp and others. Rather, he stated that the orthodox believers who did not hold to a millennial position were “influenced by heretical discourses.”[37]

Irenaeus’s Intermediate State Position: Consistent Or Changing?

Hill also detects a difference between the earlier and the later Irenaeus on the matter of the intermediate state. This possibility is not as unlikely as a shift in millennial position, because Irenaeus does not indicate the existence of a specifically traditional view of this issue.

Hill notes five passages that support a heavenly intermediate state:[38]

And for this reason four principal covenants were given to the human race: the first, of Adam before the deluge; the second, of Noe after the deluge; the third, the law under Moses; and the fourth, which renews man and recapitulates in itself all things, that is, which through the Gospel raises up and bears men on its wings to the heavenly kingdom.[39]

On this account, too, He snatched away those boys of the House of David who had the happy lot of being born at that time, that He might send them on ahead into His kingdom [a reference to Herod’s slaughter of the innocents]. For, when He Himself was yet an infant, He prepared the infants of human parents as witnesses [martyras] who, according to the Scriptures, were slain for the sake of Christ who was born in Bethlehem of Judah, in the city of David.[40]

[T]he Church also, which is the salt of the earth, has been left behind within the confines of the earth, and subject to human sufferings; and while entire members are often taken away from it, the pillar of salt still endures, thus typifying the foundation of the faith which maketh strong, and sends forward, children to their Father.[41]

Because of her love for God, the Church in every place and through all time sends forward a multitude of martyrs to the Father.[42]

This was a sign that souls should be born aloft (ἀναγωςῆς ψυχῶν) through the instrumentality of the wood, upon which He suffered who can lead those aloft that follow His ascension. This event was also an indication of the fact that when the holy soul of Christ descended [to Hades], many souls ascended and were seen in their bodies.[43]

The first of the passages (which Hill relegates to a footnote), could conceivably refer to eternity rather than to the intermediate state, since Irenaeus held that in eternity some will dwell in heaven, some in paradise, and some in the New Jerusalem (5.35.2; 5.36.1–2). The sending of the slaughtered children ahead into Christ’s kingdom is likely a reference to sending them to heaven. The third and fourth passages clearly refer to a heavenly intermediate state, because deceased believers are sent to be with the Father. At least in part, the fifth passage refers to bodily translation as it concerns those who were raised bodily on the day of Jesus’s death. Yet if not all those “borne aloft” in the fifth passage were resurrected, then the fifth passage would also teach a heavenly intermediate state.

In book 5, Irenaeus clearly held to a subterranean intermediate state:

If, then, the Lord observed the law of the dead, that He might become the first-begotten from the dead, and tarried until the third day ‘in the lower parts of the earth,’ then afterwards rising in the flesh, . . . how must these men not be put to confusion, who allege that ‘the lower parts’ refer to this world of ours, but that their inner man, leaving the body here, ascends into the super-celestial place? For as the Lord ‘went away in the midst of the shadow of death,’ where the souls of the dead were, yet afterwards arose in the body, and after the resurrection was taken up [into heaven], it is manifest that the souls of His disciples also, upon whose account the Lord underwent these things, shall go away into the invisible place allotted to them by God, and there remain until the resurrection, awaiting that event; then receiving their bodies, and rising in their entirety, that is bodily, just as the Lord arose, they shall come into the presence of God.[44]

Two passages from Irenaeus clearly, and two somewhat less clearly, teach a heavenly intermediate state. In contrast, Against Heresies 5.31.2 clearly teaches a subterranean intermediate state. A reasonable conclusion is that Irenaeus changed his mind on this matter.[45] This change can be understood as an effort to deprive the Gnostics of any claim that souls in the presence of God have arrived at their ultimate good. On Irenaeus’s later view, entering the presence of God does not happen until the resurrection.[46]

This change in position is not problematic in the way a shift on millennial views would have been, since Irenaeus does not claim the support of tradition for either view.[47] It may be that there was no settled tradition about the intermediate state at this point.[48]

The Significance Of Irenaeus’s Consistent Millennial Position And Changed Intermediate State Position

The key plank of Hill’s argument is that no evidence exists for an early Christian who held to both a heavenly intermediate state and a millennium.[49] Yet if Irenaeus remained consistent in his affirmation of the millennium (something he claims to have received from the elders), but changed his position regarding the intermediate state (an issue on which he makes no appeal to the elders), then the early Irenaeus would have embodied Hill’s missing position: a heavenly intermediate state and a millennium.[50]

Given that the link between a heavenly intermediate state and amillennialism does not hold for one of the earliest fathers, Hill’s conclusion that Clement of Rome, Ignatius, Polycarp, Melito, and Athenagoras were amillennial is called into question. Each of these men’s belief in a heavenly intermediate state is Hill’s only argument that they held an amillennial position.

Polycarp is the most significant of these figures, because he stands as a link between the apostle John and Irenaeus. Once the heavenly intermediate state is removed as an indicator of millennial view (at least prior to Irenaeus), Polycarp’s position on the matter becomes an open question. Indeed, given Irenaeus’s emphasis on receiving his millennial view from the elders, it becomes likely that Polycarp, along with Papias, was a source for Irenaeus’s millennial views.

Conclusion

Hill’s basic assertion is that a link between millennial views and views of the intermediate state enables interpreters to identify early amillennialists. Based on this link, Hill concluded that many early Christians, including Polycarp and the New Testament authors, were amillennial. However, this study has shown flaws in Hill’s linkage of millennial views and views of the intermediate state, at least prior to Irenaeus. The early Irenaeus held to both a heavenly intermediate state and to a millennium. Thus the attempt to discern a given father’s millennial view based on his view of the intermediate state fails. In the end, it is probably wisest not to attempt to discern the millennial views of the fathers for whom there is no direct evidence. The failure of Hill’s case returns the discussion to the status quo ante. Based on the available evidence, millennialism played the dominant role in the eschatology of the earliest church fathers.

Notes

1. Noted in Charles E. Hill, Regnum Caelorum: Patterns of Millennial Thought in Early Christianity, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 2–3.
2. Michael Horton, The Christian Faith: A Systematic Theology for Pilgrims on the Way (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 923.
3. Hill, Regnum Caelorum, 3–4, citing Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, 80.2 and Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 5.31–32.1.
4. Hill, 245–57.
5. Hill, 249.
6. Hill, 19–20.
7. Hill, 249.
8. Hill, 254–55. Hill also says that Irenaeus “accepts a non-chiliastic exegesis of Isa. 11 in the Proof 61.” He suggests that the Proof was written at the same time Irenaeus was writing book 4 of Against Heresies. Hill, 255, n. 2.
9. Hill, 17–18.
10. Hill, 211–27.
11. Hill, 227–42.
12. Dominic J. Unger and John J. Dillon, ed. and trans., St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, Ancient Christian Writers, ed. Walter J. Burghardt, et al. (New York: Newman, 1992), 48–49 (1.10.1). Quotations from Irenaeus utilize the Ancient Christian Writers translation of Against Heresies, for Proof of the Apostolic Preaching, and for books 1–3 of Against Heresies. Quotations from books 4 and 5, which have not yet been translated for the Ancient Christian Writers series, utilize James Payton’s updated revision of selections from the Roberts and Donaldson text, or the Roberts and Donaldson text itself (James R. Payton Jr., Irenaeus on the Christian Faith: A Condensation of Against Heresies [Eugene OR: Pickwick, 2011]; and Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, eds. The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1 [Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885]).
13. See A. N. S. Lane, “Scripture, Tradition and Church: An Historical Survey,” Vox Evangelica 9 (1975): 39–40.
14. Dominic J. Unger and John J. Dillon, ed. and trans., St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, Book 3, Ancient Christian Writers, ed. Boniface Ramsey, et al. (New York: Newman, 2012), 108 (2.33.5), brackets supplied by translator.
15. Dominic J. Unger and Irenaeus M. C. Steenberg, ed. and trans., St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, Ancient Christian Writers, ed. Boniface Ramsey et al. (New York: Newman, 2012), 109 (3.23.7). First brackets are mine and second brackets are translator’s.
16. Unger and Steenberg, St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, 208, n. 34.
17. Payton, Irenaeus on the Christian Faith, 193 (5.35.1).
18. Hill, 254.
19. Unger and Dillon, St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, 72 (2.22.2).
20. Payton, Irenaeus on the Christian Faith 190 (5.32.1). Brackets supplied by translator.
21. Hill, 254–55.
22. Payton, 88 (4.4.2), brackets supplied by translator.
23. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, eds., The Apostolic Fathers, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Ante-Nicene Fathers (1885; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), 1:564–65 (5.34.4–35.2). References in brackets supplied by author; other brackets supplied by translator.
24. Payton, 87–88 (4.4.1).
25. This theory depends on Hill’s supposition that Proof of the Apostolic Preaching was written between books 3 and 4 of Against Heresies, a position debated among scholars. Hill, 255; Joseph P. Smith, trans. and ed., St. Irenaeus: Proof of the Apostolic Preaching, Ancient Christian Writers, ed. Johannes Quasten and Joseph C. Plumpe (New York: Paulist, 1952), 6, 117, n. 18.
26. Smith, St. Irenaeus: Proof of the Apostolic Preaching, 88 (§61).
27. Smith, 196, n. 270.
28. Payton, 192 (5.33.4).
29. Unger and Steenberg, St. Irenaeus of Lyons: Against the Heresies, 31 (3.2.2).
30. Unger and Steenberg, 32–34 (3.3.1–4.1); Payton, 124, 135 (4.26.5; 4.33.8).
31. Lane, “Scripture, Tradition and Church,” 39–40.
32. Hill, 256–58.
33. Hill does grant that Irenaeus could appeal to Papias, Justin Martyr, and Jewish apocalyptic literature for precedent (258).
34. Payton, 192 (5.33.4).
35. Payton, 191–92 (5.33.3–4).
36. This, of course, raises the question of whether Irenaeus was truly passing on tradition that came from the Lord, through John, to the elders. Once the figurative nature of these millennial promises is understood (that is, there is no prediction that clusters of grapes will really speak), these predictions of fecundity, peace between animals, and the subjection of all things to humankind are plausible. Each element of these predictions could be substantiated from the Old Testament (Isa. 11:6–9; Amos 9:13–14).
37. Payton, 190 (5.32.1).
38. Hill, 17–18.
39. Unger and Steenberg, 57 (3.11.8).
40. Unger and Steenberg, 80–81 (3.16.4), first brackets are mine and second brackets are translator’s.
41. Roberts, Donaldson, and Coxe, The Apostolic Fathers, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, 1:505 (4.31.3).
42. Payton, 135 (4.33.9).
43. Fragment 26 as translated in Hill, 17–18. Hill notes that the authorship of this passage is disputed.
44. Roberts, Donaldson, and Coxe, 1:560 (5.31.2).
45. Hill notes that some scholars attempt to harmonize the two views by positing that martyrs were permitted a heavenly intermediate state, whereas everyone else experienced a subterranean intermediate state. In response, Hill observes that in book 5 not even Christ escapes the subterranean intermediate state, and that not every heavenly intermediate state passage is about martyrs (7–18).
46. Hill, 257–58.
47. The only time Irenaeus appeals to what the elders taught was in reference to the heavenly dwelling of those who were translated, and Hill holds that that passage has no bearing on the discussion of the intermediate state.
48. Justin Martyr’s writings also contain conflicting positions regarding the intermediate state (Hill, 25).
49. Hill, 249.
50. It is possible that Justin Martyr also simultaneously held, at least at one point, to a heavenly intermediate state and a millennium. Hill’s conclusion that Papias must have held to a subterranean intermediate state because he was millennialist (despite admitting that “we have no scrap of tradition under the name of Papias that directly concerns the intermediate state of the righteous dead”) must also be questioned (see Hill, 22).

Keep Your Head Up

By Mark M. Yarbrough

[Mark M. Yarbrough became President, Dallas Theological Seminary, Dallas, Texas, July 1, 2020.]

“Twalking” is a significant problem and a developing word.[1] It references what happens when mobile device users attempt to tweet, text, or talk while walking; hence “twalking.” Don’t laugh. You know you’ve participated and experienced the ramifications of this seemingly benign behavior even if just around your home or office.

While we are prone to dismiss the severity of this phenomenon, it’s a real and present danger. According to Dr. Alan Hilibrand, chair of the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons Communications Cabinet, “the number of injuries to pedestrians using their phones has more than doubled since 2004, and surveys have shown that 60% of pedestrians are distracted by other activities while walking.”[2] In many cases, these injuries were severe—even resulting in death. In the United States, it is such a serious issue that lawmakers feel the need to address it.[3]

Did you know that in some cities walking and texting are illegal? Places like Honolulu, Hawaii, Rexburg, Idaho, and Montclair, California have banned distracting walking due to the rise in pedestrian injuries. It’s a global problem too.[4] Some cities, such as Manchester, in the United Kingdom, have painted specific walking lanes for “phone zombies” and have placed padded poles, guardrails, and even in-ground lights to grab the attention of distracted pedestrians.

And most of the problems would be avoided if people just kept their heads up. It’s that simple.

Spiritual Twalking

While the pitfalls and problems of twalking are real, “spiritual twalking” presents an equally clear and present danger. Unfortunately, many believers today live with their heads down as opposed to up. Why? Because we get weighted down by the stuff of earth.

Often social agendas sensationalize and drive much of the news, social media, and political propaganda we consume. These outlets compete for our allegiance and continually encourage us to gaze at things below, as opposed to things above. And I think we are paying the price. True, we certainly have the responsibility to engage in public discourse, both as people who make and are made by culture and as believers who are specifically called to be salt and light.[5] But when we fixate on every dispute and feel obliged to provide our limited opinions on the latest crisis in this fallen world, we forget a prominent mandate of Scripture from Colossians and the hope that it offers. For when Christ-followers fail to look up, we frequently fall down; this is the result of spiritual twalking.

Remember To Look Up

Paul calls believers to look up to gain clarity while living below. Listen to what the Apostle Paul says in Colossians 3:1–2, “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.”[6]

Paul’s charge, under the direction of the Holy Spirit, is clear and pointed. He encourages us to remember something vital to life today and then challenges us to act on that remembrance.

First, the apostle encourages believers to remember that we “have been raised with Christ.” He begins the discussion in 2:12–13 when he recalls that we were buried with Christ and thus dead to sin. And being buried means death to the belief system of the world (2:20). With that reality in mind, Paul now stresses the totality of the gospel: death, burial, and resurrection. Our being raised with Christ is sure. The picture is strong. God sits on his throne, and the exalted Christ sits to his right in the position of power, prominence, and protection. As Dunn states,

The consequences for the Christian perspective are thus also clear. If Jesus, the Christ, is so highly favored. If we acknowledge Him to be God’s ‘righthand man,’ with all the power and authority to effect God’s will and to protect his own, which is implicit in that claim, then Christian life should be entirely oriented by reference to this Christ.[7]

Second, the reality of being raised with Christ challenges us to act on that remembrance and to do so regularly. Did you note that two times in this brief passage, Paul calls us to look up? In Colossians 3:1, the charge is to “set your hearts on things above.” In referencing our hearts, Paul speaks to our desires, which in light of being united with the risen Savior, are now bent toward heaven. God transforms us through our union with him. This relationship changes our moral viewpoint, which should be from a position of redemption and not driven from earthly patterns.

In Colossians 3:2, Paul repeats the charge with a twist. We are to set our minds on things above. This second command addresses our thoughts. It implies assessing the time and passion we dedicate to our thinking and the actions that follow from those thoughts. To avoid confusion, Paul states we are to engage our minds on “things above” (τὰ ἄνω), not on “earthly things” (τὰ ἐπίγεια), that is, things of the world. The contrast to the first admonition is that our focus should be on what is up (heaven) and explicitly not down (earth).

Here, as much as anywhere, the twofold perspective of believers appears. They lived in two domains: the fallen order and the redeemed order, a division Paul had already used in 1:15–20. While being a part of the fallen order, they were not to let that environment occupy their thoughts and minds. Their values were to be different.[8]

Invasive Action to Avoid Spiritual Twalking

Need a dose of encouragement today? Take heart, my friends. God’s got this. Jesus has been exalted, and we are united with him by grace through faith. Our priorities in engaging one another in the world are fundamentally shaped by the facts that God has raised us with Christ, and that Christ is now seated at the right hand of the Father.

When the world around us falls apart and human systems come crashing down, we stand with the resurrected Savior! As Barclay aptly states, “From now on the Christian will see everything in the light and against the background of eternity. He will no longer live as if this world was all that mattered; he will see this world against the background of the larger world of eternity.”[9] Yes, remembering that reality makes a difference today, in the here and now. For when facing the problems of the world, including plagues, pestilence, violence, injustice, social wrongs, and faulty political systems, we know the risen Lord is Lord over all. He has a plan that he is working to his ends. For at that time, all wrongs will be made right; sin will be no more, and God’s rule, through his appointed Christ, will be made manifest in heaven and on the recreated earth. Despite what our eyes see, faith leads us to trust in him even when the present circumstances and pundits say it is foolish.

Does that mean we should not be active in addressing the problems of the world? By no means. It means our thoughts and actions should be heaven-centric as we do it. That leads us to the ramifications of Paul’s charge to act by looking up. We begin by assessing what we fixate our hearts and minds on and respond accordingly. For some, looking up requires significant adjustments to the ways we interact in the public square. For others, looking up means we need to spend more time studying and applying the Word to our lives than on conforming to the narrative of the world. For others still, looking up means living out the Gospel of Jesus Christ in word and deed as opposed to defaulting to earthly patterns of discourse that, although promising good, will ultimately fail. What’s true for us all is the constant need to purge ourselves of the input of the world and refill our hearts and minds with the things of God. That is why Paul admonishes believers in Rome not to conform to the world but instead renew minds (Rom 12:1–2). The benefits of doing so are immense. When we do, we will remember that God is sovereign, our salvation is secure, and that the best is yet to come.

That gives me hope when it all seems to be falling apart.

Come on, Christ-followers, we can do this. Let’s stop spiritual twalking. Keep your focus on things above. It makes all the difference in (and for) the world. Keep your head up.

Notes

1. “Twalking,” Urban Dictionary, accessed August 30, 2020, https://www.urban-dictionary.com/define.php?term=Twalking.
2. “Distracted Walking,” OrthoInfo, accessed August 31, 2020, https://ortho-info.aaos.org/en/staying-healthy/distracted-walking.
3. Natalie Proulx, “Texting While Walking,” The New York Times, accessed August 30, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/25/learning/texting-while-walking.html.
4. Harry Rosehill, “The Dangers of Walking While Looking at Your Phone,” Londonist, accessed August 30, 2020, https://londonist.com/london/technology/walking-while-looking-at-your-phone.
5. Andy Crouch, Culture Making (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2008).
6. The New International Version (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011).
7. James D. G. Dunn, The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 205.
8. Richard R. Melick, Philippians, Colossians, Philemon, New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1991), 281–82.
9. William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, The Daily Study Bible series, 2nd ed. (Edinburgh: Saint Andrew Press, 1963), 177.

Image Of Adam, Son Of God: Genesis 5:3 And Luke 3:38 In Intercanonical Dialogue

By Gavin Ortlund

[Gavin Ortlund is a Ph.D. student in historical theology at Fuller Theological Seminary, 135 N. Oakland Avenue, Pasadena, CA 91182.]

I. Introduction

It has not been widely noticed that the first genealogy of the Bible begins, and the last genealogy in the Bible ends, not with any human individual, but with God. In Gen 5:1–3, God creates Adam in his image and likeness (the imago Dei), and then Adam fathers Seth in his own image and likeness (what we will call the imago Adami). In Luke 3:38, the lineage of Jesus is traced backwards to “Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God” (τοῦ θεοῦ). Seen together, these genealogies seem to suggest some kind of continuity from God · Adam · Seth, and thus, by implication, some kind of association between creating and begetting. Genesis 5:3, in particular, raises the question of an association between a father/child relationship and the imago Dei:

“When Adam had lived 130 years, he fathered a son in his own likeness, after his image (בִּדְמוּתֹו כְּצַלְמֹו), and named him Seth.”[1]

Yet so far there has been surprisingly little exploration of the import of Gen 5:3 for the meaning of the imago Dei, and almost no effort at bringing Gen 5:3 and Luke 3:38 into dialogue with each other.[2]

The purpose of this article is to explore Gen 5:3 and Luke 3:38 in relation to each other, and together in relation to the meaning of the imago Dei. It advances two claims: first, Gen 5:3, by comparing creating and begetting, makes a contribution to the biblical conception of the imago Dei; second, this association of creating and begetting (or “image” and “offspring”) provides a plausible explanation for the ending of Luke 3:38. I will proceed in three steps. First, I note a general neglect of, and frequent confusion regarding, the imago Adami in Gen 5:3. Second, I explore the significance of the imago Adami in Gen 5:3 for the meaning of the imago Dei. Third, I explore how the teaching of Gen 5:3 may clarify the interpretative options regarding why Luke ends his genealogy with τοῦ θεοῦ in 3:38.

II. Merely A Recapitulation? Neglect Of Genesis 5:3

Theological accounts of the imago Dei have, generally speaking, tended to draw from Gen 1:26–28 (occasionally combined with Gen 9:6) rather than Gen 5:1–3. Representative of this tendency, for instance, is Millard Erickson’s skipping from Genesis 1 to Genesis 9, pausing only to see a recapitulation of the former in Genesis 5;[3] or Merrill’s reference to Gen 1:26–28 as “the central text” and to Gen 5:1–3 and 9:6 as “derivative texts”;[4] or Sherlock’s cutting off Gen 5:3 from Gen 5:1–2, leading him to see nothing of the imago Dei in Genesis 5 that is not already present in Genesis 1.5 Neither has Genesis [5] featured significantly in historical treatment of the imago Dei. The lengthy accounts of the imago Dei in Augustine,[6] Aquinas,[7] and Calvin,[8] for instance, have repeated interaction with Genesis 1, but none with Genesis 5.[9] In the modern era, salient examples of this same tendency include Bavinck,[10] Berkouwer,[11] and Barth, the last of whom referred to Gen 5:1 as “merely a recapitulation” of Gen 1:27.[12]

That Gen 5:3 is located in a genealogy has probably contributed to its neglect, since genealogies are themselves frequently neglected. This neglect is unfortunate, since in biblical thought genealogies are rife with theological as well as social-historical significance.[13] Moreover, even when attention has been given to the genealogy of Gen 5:1–6:8,[14] the focus has tended toward (1) the problem of the length of the life spans listed here,[15] and (2) source-critical questions of the history behind the text.[16] When interest has strayed into the figures named in the genealogy, it has been focused towards the “standout” figures of Enoch (who walks with God and is taken away) and Lamech (who fathers Noah and predicts his significance).[17] On those rare occasions when Gen 5:3 does receive attention, it is typically with just a passing comment.[18]

Another factor for the neglect of Gen 5:3 may simply be the strangeness of its teaching. Brueggemann calls the imago Adami “an odd ambiguous statement,”[19] and this ambivalence is representative of many commentators. A number of Genesis commentaries simply omit any discussion of the imago Adami in Gen 5:3. These include Gunkel,[20] Walton,[21] Bowie,[22] Yates,[23] Speiser,[24] Dods,[25] Cotter,[26] Hughes,[27] Gangel and Bramer,[28] and Atkinson.[29] A few Genesis commentaries note the imago Adami in Gen 5:3 but do not discuss its meaning. These include Kidner,[30] Fritsch,[31] Maly,[32] and Reno.[33]

When commentators have brought Gen 5:3 into discussion concerning the imago Dei, the general tendency has been to reduce its significance to the extension of the image to Adam's descendants. In other words, it has been seen to be concerned with the scope of the image, not its meaning. This interpretation of Gen 5:3 has two basic variations, one more negative in thrust and the other more positive. The older, more negative view, now very much in the minority, contrasted the good imago Dei of Gen 5:1 with the corrupt imago Adami of Gen 5:3. This was the predominant view of the Reformers. Calvin, for instance, claimed that the metaphor communicates the transmission of both the imago Dei as well as the defilement of sin from Adam to his offspring.[34] For other Reformed theologians, the imago Adami was entirely negative, representing little different than the doctrine of original sin (thus Luther,[35] Zwingli,[36] Chytraeus,[37] Willet,[38] and Gill[39]). Later proponents of reformed theology, such as Pink,[40] have also popularized this view, as have the German Lutheran commentators Keil and Delitzsch,[41] and the popular biblical commentator Matthew Henry.[42] A few contemporary commentators have also interpreted the imago Adami as the communication of some kind of flawed nature to Adam’s posterity, such as Brueggemann,[43] Jeske,[44] Davies,[45] and Youngblood.[46]

More commonly, however, especially in recent times, scholars have interpreted the imago Adami in a positive light as referring to the continuance of the imago Dei beyond Adam. The significance of Gen 5:3 is seen to be, in this view, that the imago Dei is not obliterated by the fall, but continues to Adam’s posterity. Von Rad gives a classic expression of this view: “God’s image was therefore peculiar not only to the first man, but was inherited in successive generations.”[47] Thus see the contributions by Wenham,[48] Keil,[49] Hamilton,[50] Gowan,[51] Westermann,[52] Skinner,[53] McKeown,[54] Matthews,[55] Hartley,[56] Ross,[57] Cassuto,[58] Davidson,[59] and Vermigli.[60] A rare variation of this view is that Gen 5:3 expresses the continuance of the imago Dei, but only to righteous individuals, not to all humanity (thus Boice[61] and Chrysostom[62]). But among all these various expressions of some species of “transmission” interpretation, little is said about the nature and implications of this transmission; and what is said often feels cursory, partial, and/or hesitant.

III. Bridge Or Window? The Significance Of Gen 5:3

While the transmission of the imago Dei to Adam’s offspring is certainly implied as a consequence of Gen 5:3, it is difficult to see how this “transmission interpretation” in any of its variations is satisfactory as an explanation for the imago Adami. After all, what Gen 5:3 asserts is not that Seth, like Adam, was created in God’s image and likeness, but that Seth was created in Adam’s image and likeness. The thrust is not merely: as was God to Adam, so is God to Seth; but rather, as was God to Adam, so is Adam to Seth. The image of God passes through Adam, and thus a parallel is drawn between God’s creating and Adam’s procreating. If the text were concerned simply with communicating the continuation of the imago Dei, this seems to be an odd way to do it.

An additional problem of the “transmission” interpretation is that it would very naturally seem to imply that the image is continued only through the line of Seth, excluding Adam’s other descendents, such as Cain and his line. Indeed, some later Jewish commentary used Gen 5:3 to emphasize precisely this point. Philo, for instance, singled out Gen 5:3 to highlight God’s priority of Seth over Cain, and he read the significance of the imago Adami in this light.[63] Throughout later Jewish and rabbinic literature, Seth is portrayed as the ideal man of righteousness and obedience,[64] and the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan even claimed that Seth was the offspring of Eve and the angel Sammael, rather than Eve and Adam.[65] Its rendering of Gen 5:3 adds an explanatory comment to bolster the Cain-Seth contrast: “When Adam had lived a hundred and thirty years, he begot Seth, who resembled his image and likeness. For before that, Eve had borne Cain, who was not from him and who did not resemble him.”[66] Some later Jewish thinkers went even further than this, positing that Adam’s children prior to Seth were demons; and thus only with Seth does true humanity continue.[67]

In the biblical text, the Seth-Cain contrast is softer. It is true that at Seth’s birth, Eve interprets him as a replacement for righteous Abel (Gen 4:25), and significantly, Genesis 5 traces Adam’s lineage through Seth, not Cain. But nowhere is it suggested that true humanity continues only through Seth, or that Cain and his descendents are precluded from the imago Dei. Indeed, Gen 9:6 rules out this possibility out by appealing to the imago Dei as the basis for valuing all human life, and the radical disjunction of Cain as demonic and Seth as angelic would find little ability to account for God’s continuing protection of Cain in Gen 4:15.

In light of these difficulties, it is worth considering the imago Adami as concerned with the meaning of the imago Dei, not merely its continuance. To construct a metaphor, Gen 5:3 may function more like a window into the nature of the imago Dei, rather than merely as a bridge over which it passes. Specifically, it seems to imply a comparison between creating and begetting—that is to say, a comparison between being created in God’s image and being God’s children. Initially, this conclusion might seem to put too much theological weight on this one small verse. But several textual features invite a comparison between the imago Dei and the imago Adami, and a number of parallels in ancient Near Eastern creation myths strengthen the plausibility of such an association.

1. Textual analysis. It is significant that the imago Adami is not placed randomly within the biblical narrative, but immediately on the heels of the re-articulation of the imago Dei in Gen 5:1–2. In fact, the flow of thought and textual proximity from 5:1b–2 to 5:3ff. invites reading the imago Adami in relation to the imago Dei, and more generally suggests continuity between 5:1b–2 and the rest of the genealogy. Genesis 5:1a introduces a new section with the introductory, “this is the book of the generations of Adam” (the second תולדת after Gen 2:4, a header that will be repeated throughout Genesis).[68] This structural designation provides initial grounds for reading 5:1b–2 in close relation to 5:3–32, and it turns out that there are some interesting similarities between 5:1b–2 and the regular refrain that recurs 9 times (with only a few variations) from 5:3–31. For instance, the parallel of “naming” is striking: in 5:1–2, God names humanity after he creates them in his image; in 5:3, Adam names Seth after begetting him in his image and likeness. The different senses of אדם throughout 5:1–3 should be noted: in verse 3 Adam is a proper name; in verses 1–2 it refers to humanity generally (hence “man” is both “male and female”). What appears in English translation as “man” in 5:1b–2 and “Adam” in 5:3 is actually the same word, and thus דמא, like every other figure in the genealogy, is begotten (5:1–2) before begetting (5:3). From one angle, then, 5:1b–2 can be read as a preamble to the genealogy, but from another angle it can also be read as a part of the genealogy. Given this flow of thought, it is difficult to suppose that the meaning of “image” in 5:1 has no import for the meaning of “image” in 5:3.

Furthermore, the language of Gen 5:3 invites comparison with that of Gen 1:26–28. A more general comparison of Gen 5:1–2 and Gen 1:26–28 is frequently observed. The terms for “God,” “created,” “man,” “likeness,” and “blessed” are the same in both passages, and many specific ideas are common to both—e.g. the image being bestowed specifically at creation (1:26, 5:1), both male and female constituting the image (1:27 and 5:2), divine blessing associated with the image (1:28, 5:2), etc.[69] It is striking, however, that the use of both “image” (צלם) and “likeness” (דמות) in 1:26 resurfaces only with the imago Adami in 5:3, whereas 5:1 only uses “image” (as in 1:27). Since the phrase “in his image, after his likeness” is not included in the other eight refrains in the rest of the chapter, its addition here in 5:3 suggests intentionality and significance. In addition, since these two terms are paired nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible other than Gen 1:26 and 5:3, it is only natural to seek to correlate the imago Dei and the imago Adami.

In sum, if Genesis did not intend a comparison between the relationship of God and Adam (creating) and the relationship of Adam and Seth (begetting), it is difficult to fathom why the imago Adami is placed in 5:3 immediately after the imago Dei in 5:1–2, and with identical terminology to the imago Dei in 1:26.[70]

2. Ancient Near Eastern parallels. There are a number of intriguing parallels to the association of creating and begetting in other ancient Near Eastern creation texts. The relation of the creation account in Genesis to other ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies has been a point of scholarly exploration over the last several generations, and some of these studies have focused specifically on the imago Dei.[71] Yet few studies have drawn attention to the very common association of creating and begetting in these texts. There are too many examples to list, so here we limit ourselves to texts that associate not only creating and begetting, but specifically being created as the image of a god/goddess and being begotten by that god/goddess.

a. Enuma Elish. Parallels between the creation story of Genesis and the Babylonian creation myth Enuma Elish have been frequently noted. But the focus has tended to be on alleged parallels between the watery chaos in Gen 1:2 and the Babylonian chaos monster Tiamat, or between the order and depiction of creation acts in Genesis 1 and Enuma Elish.[72] With respect to the imago Dei, a parallel has been drawn with Marduk’s employment of his own blood in the creation of man, but only with reference to Gen 1:26–28, not Gen 5:1–3 or the imago Adami.[73] Cassuto, however, is one of the few commentators who has noticed the similarity between Gen 5:3 and Enuma Elish 1:16, which he renders, “Anu begot Nudimmud in his likeness.”[74] Throughout Enuma Elish, creating is frequently compared with begetting,[75] but here the association is made specifically with the “likeness” (Akkadian salma) of Anu (or Ansu, or Anzu; the primeval deity representing fresh waters). It is unfortunate that Cassuto did not develop his comments on this parallel, and that other commentators have appeared not to notice or appreciate Cassuto’s observation.

b. Various Egyptian texts and inscriptions. The association of creating and begetting is common in ancient Egyptian literature, especially with respect to the birth of divine figures.[76] Middleton, drawing from Curtis, mentions eighteen different Egyptian texts or inscriptions that refer to a particular pharaoh as the image of a god, mostly drawn from the 12th–15th centuries BC, and he admits that this list is not exhaustive.[77] Most relevant to this paper are those texts or inscriptions that associate being the image of a god with being the offspring of a god. Four examples are listed by Clines:

• Pharaoh is called “the shining image of the lord of all and a creation of the gods of Heliopolis. …. He has begotten him, in order to create a shining seed on earth, for salvation for men, as his living image.”
• Amosis I is called “a prince like Re, the child of Qeb, his heir, the image of Re, whom he created, the avenger (or the representative), for whom he has set himself on earth.”
• Amenophis III is addressed by the god Amon as “my living image, creation of my members, whom Mut bare to me.”
• Amon-Re says to Amenophis III, “you are my beloved son, who came forth from my members, my image, whom I have put on earth.”[78]

Other examples beyond those listed by Clines could be mentioned. For example, one text labels the 13th-century Pharaoh Merenptah as a “child and likeness of the Bull of Heliopolis”[79] and the Instruction for Merikare, referencing the god who also made heaven and earth, asserts that “they who have issued from his body are his images.”[80] This last statement provides a particularly interesting example in that it applies the notion of creation in the image of a god not just to a royal figure, but to all humanity (a move relatively rare outside the Bible).

c. Gilgamesh Epic. Parallels are often drawn between the creation of Adam in Genesis and the creation of Enkidu in this text. But there are also some interesting parallels for the association of creating and begetting. One particularly interesting example reads thus:

30. Great Aruru they called: “Thou, Aruru, didst create [Gilgamesh(?)]; 

31. Now create his equal, to the impetuosity of his heart let him be eq[ual]. 

32. Let them ever strive (with each other), and let Uruk (thus) have re[st].” 

33. When Aruru heard this, she conceived in her heart an image of Anu; 

34. [A]ruru washed her hands, pinched off clay, (and) threw (it) on the steppe: 

35. [….] valiant Enkidu she created, the offspring …. of Ninurta.[81]

The text is difficult, as several key words are missing, and the meaning of the Akkadian word zikru is disputed. But even with the missing words, and apart from knowing how to translate zikru, the association of creating and begetting is evident: the text portrays the creator-goddess Aruru conceiving a zikru of Aru (the sky-god of Uruk), and then subsequently creating Enkidu, who is referred to her as her “offspring.” Middleton argues that the best rendering of zikru here is something like “idea” or “mental image,” citing a similar use of the term in the Akkadian myth Descent of Ishtar to the Underworld.[82] If this is right, then the association between creating and begetting here provides an even more intriguing parallel to Gen 5:3. But the textual ambiguities here make it unwise to put much weight on this particular text.

d. Other Mesopotamian texts. The Assyrian Tukulti-Ninurta Epic, which recounts the victories of the Assyrian king Tukulti-Ninurta I over the Babylonian king Kashtiliash IV, describes the Assyrian king as born of the gods, gestated in the divine womb, and exalted to a status just behind the warrior-god Ninurta, who is the first-born son of the high god Enlil, and then refers to him as “he who is the eternal image of Enlil.”[83] In addition, Adad-shumu-usur, an exorcist-priest in the royal court of Ninevah, wrote to the Neo-Assyrian King Esarhaddon, “the father of the king, my lord, was the very image of Bel, and the king, my lord, is likewise the very image of Bel.”[84] There are a few other relevant examples from Mesopotamian documents, but they are not as numerous as the Egyptian.[85]

The whole issue of how these various texts may or may not be related to each other or the Bible is quite complicated, and it is not necessary here to assume any particular theory of influence among them. It is enough to observe that other ancient Near Eastern creation myths often associated creating and begetting, and specifically creating in one’s image and begetting. These parallels suggest that such an association between “image” and “offspring” was not foreign to ancient Near Eastern thought, and thus add plausibility and significance to the existence of such an association in Gen 5:3.

IV. Luke 3:38 In Light Of Genesis 5:3

Commentators have frequently been puzzled by the conclusion to Luke’s genealogy. On the one hand, most commentators are quick to highlight the significance of the fact that the genealogy extends all the way back to Adam, in contrast to Matthew’s more “Jewish” genealogy, which begins with Abraham. In this, it is claimed, Luke means to emphasize Jesus’ human nature, and his corporate solidarity with all the rest of humanity, having just emphasized his status as God’s “beloved Son” in the preceding verse (3:22). But this raises the question all the more forcefully: why does a genealogy concerned with Jesus’ humanity conclude with “the son of God” (τοῦ θεοῦ)?

As with the imago Adami in Gen 5:3, some commentaries simply lack any attempted explanation of “the son of God” in Luke 3:38. In some cases, it is mentioned but not explained; in other cases it not mentioned at all. Thus see Liefeld,[86] Bovon (who holds “of God” to be a later redaction),[87] Johnson,[88] Tolbert,[89] Creed,[90] Bowie,[91] Summers,[92] Calvin,[93] and Butler.[94] Among commentators who do address the issue, there are basically three schools of thought (though some overlap among them is inevitable).

1. Christ’s divine sonship. First, a number of commentators, often noting that Luke’s genealogy follows directly on the heels of Jesus’ baptismal identification as the Son of God, see the conclusion of the genealogy as echoing this identification (and possibly anticipating later identifications in Luke’s Gospel). As Morris put it, “Luke adds the son of God, for we must see Jesus in his relationship to his Father. In this the genealogy harmonizes with the preceding and following narratives, both of which are concerned with Jesus as the Son of God.”[95] In this regard, see also Culpepper,[96] Just,[97] Pate,[98] and Arndt.[99]

2. Christ’s humanity. Most commentators have not been satisfied with this explanation. Marshall, for instance, objects that “to regard divine sonship as mediated to Jesus through his ancestors conflicts with the birth story,” and notes that this view requires all 78 names[100] from Joseph to Adam to function as one gigantic parenthesis.[101] Instead, Marshall suggests that by tracing Jesus back to Adam as the Son of God, Luke means to identify Christ as the “second Adam” and to emphasize his solidarity with all humanity.[102] Similarly, see the works by Jeffrey,[103] Schlatter,[104] Manson,[105] Ellis,[106] Gonzalez,[107] Mattam,[108] Wright,[109] and the Church father Irenaeus.[110]

Some commentators opt for some combination of these first two views. Wilcock, for instance, claims that since Christ has just been dubbed the Son of God at the climax of his baptism (3:22), immediately preceding the genealogy, Luke is highlighting the divine and human natures of Christ as both son of Adam and Son of God[111] (so also the Church father Ambrose[112]). An occasional variant of this view is that Luke is contrasting Christ as the Son of God (3:22) with Adam as the Son of God (3:38).[113]

3. Divine origins of humanity. It is far from clear, however, whether Marshall’s view actually overcomes the problems it detects in the first view. Whether the emphasis is on Christ’s deity or on his humanity, a Christological interpretation of τοῦ θεοῦ still seems to require that the 78 names of the genealogy function basically as a parenthesis. If Luke’s primary concern in the conclusion of his genealogy is Christological, why does he trace this identification through Jesus’ human ancestry, with the result that τοῦ θεοῦ is placed at the location in the genealogy that is furthest removed from its referent? Are there not clearer ways to identify Jesus’ humanity (or deity)? In light of such considerations, other commentators interpret τοῦ θεοῦ as primarily anthropological in thrust. Plummer’s commentary gave classic expression to this view:

Why does Lk. add that Adam was the son of God? Certainly not in order to show the Divine Sonship of the Messiah, which would place Him in this respect on a level with all mankind. More probably it is added for the sake of Gentile readers, to remind them of the Divine origin of the human race.[114]

Reference is sometimes made in articulations of this view to Paul’s quotation of Aratus in Acts 17:28, “we are indeed his offspring,” as seen in Godet,[115] Craddock,[116] and Hughes.[117] This anthropological view is sometimes combined with a soft affirmation of (2), since the divine origins of the human race and Jesus’ solidarity with the entire human race complement one another. Thus Green writes, “the reference to Adam as son of God presents the divine origin of the human race and indicates Jesus’ solidarity with all humanity.”[118]

A few commentators go one step further to associate the imago Dei with the reference to “Adam, the son of God,” such as Geldenhuys,[119] Bock,[120] and Ryken.[121] Surprisingly, however, none of these commentaries brings Gen 5:3 into the discussion.[122] In fact, several commentators explicitly assert the absence of any OT, pseudepigraphical, Qumranic, or rabbinic precedent for a genealogy tracing back to God.[123] For example, Nolland claims that “a genealogy that reaches back to God is not known in the OT,”[124] and Hughes asserts, “there is no parallel in the Old Testament or in rabbinic texts for a genealogy to begin or end with the name of God.”[125]

But these statements overlook Gen 5:1–3, which provides precisely such a parallel. In fact, the parallelism between these two passages operates on more than one level: not only do both suggest continuity from God to Adam to Seth, but both do so specifically in the context of a genealogy, and through the metaphor of begottenness. In fact, if we read Luke 3:38 in light of the identification of Adam as the son of God in Gen 5:1–3, those very features of Luke’s genealogy that are initially puzzling instead become illuminating. Specifically, we are able to appreciate, rather than attempt to circumvent, the genealogical context of Luke’s identification of Adam as the son of God. Moreover, the placement of τοῦ θεοῦ at the end of the genealogy becomes natural and even necessary. Therefore, the reading of Luke 3:38 that best accounts for the details of the text is the third interpretation surveyed above, namely, that Luke is concerned with the divine origins of humanity.[126] When Luke identifies Adam as the son of God, he is following a pattern established in the first genealogy of the Bible, and common in ancient Near Eastern thought, in which creating and begetting are associated. Indeed, given the similarities of the two passages (genealogical context, filial language, etc.), it is even plausible to detect in Luke 3:38 an allusion to, or at least an echo of, Gen 5:3.[127]

It is worth observing in closing one final point of consideration that may strengthen this reading. Just as creation in a deity’s image and being begotten by that deity were associated in other ancient Near Eastern creation myths, similar parallels of createdness and sonship seem to have made their way into Jewish thought in the first century (at the time of Luke’s writing). Philo, for instance, in his On the Virtues, customarily refers to God as “Creator and Father of the Universe,”[128] and his account of the creation of Adam explains the nobility of Adam’s status as divine image bearer in terms of Adam’s status as the son of God:

Was it not, then, a perfect excess of all nobleness, which could not possibly come into comparison with any other which is ever spoken of as favours? For all persons who lay claim to that kind of eminence rest their claims on the nobility of their ancestors. But even those men who have been their ancestors were only animals, subject to disease and to corruption, and their prosperity was, for the most part, very unstable. The father of this man was not mortal at all, and the sole author of his being was God. And he, being in a manner his image and likeness according to the dominant mind in the soul, though it was his duty to preserve that image free from all spot of blemish … deliberately chose what was false.[129]

In his concern with the nobility of the imago Dei, Philo here appeals to the notion of the “nobility of birth,” which identifies nobility with one’s ancestral background. For Philo, Adam’s noble status as God’s image-bearer and the bearer of a soul is grounded in his ancestral background being none other than God himself. He is the “son of God.” Nor is Philo alone in making an association between Adam’s status as God’s son with his being created in the image and likeness of God. The pseudepigraphical text Life of Adam and Eve, or Apocalypse of Moses (c. AD 100), for instance, refers to God as Adam’s “unseen Father” because “he is your image.”[130]

V. Conclusion

In addition to shedding light on Gen 5:3 and Luke 3:38, two further conclusions may be drawn from this article. First, greater recognition should be given to the metaphor of begottenness in discussions concerning the meaning of the imago Dei in the Bible. The image is notorious for both its theological significance and its ambiguity in meaning. As Barr put it, “the isolation of the phrase [‘image of God’], combined with its highly strategic position, makes it a very debatable subject and yet at the same time one upon which serious consequences depend.”[131] Any role that Gen 5:3 may play in refining the meaning of imago Dei is therefore welcome—especially so because it need not be seen as overturning more traditional views of the imago Dei, but rather as supplementing and potentially unifying them. After all, the metaphor of fathering for creating is consistent with the basic trajectories of interpretation that have traditionally been offered with respect to the imago Dei (e.g. substantive/relational/functional, “resemblance” and “representation,” etc.). A father/child relationship accords with all of these: a child is like his father, represents his father, bears many of his father’s characteristics (such as capacity for relationship), etc. At its core, the imago Dei suggests that humans are like God: and the analogy of children seems quite apt for communicating this idea.

Second, the metaphor of begottenness for the imago Dei provides a striking example of the Bible’s tendency toward relational, experiential language, as opposed to abstract, conceptual language.[132] The Bible nowhere uses the technical language the church would eventually employ to define the imago Dei: instead, it compares it to a universally meaningful human relationship. The same is true with regard to the Bible’s language for the Trinity. Words such as homoousios and hypostasis, perichoresis and procession, begottenness and being, spiration and substance are important and valid in their context; but when the Bible wants to talk about the Trinity, it typically uses words such as “Father” and “Son” and "Helper” and “love” and “life.” In the Bible, the highest matters of theology are related to, and communicated in terms of, the deepest experiences of our lives.

In his Institutes, John Calvin wrote that “recognition of [God] consists more in living experience than in vain and high-flown speculation.”[133] Even more provocatively, a young Martin Luther wrote, “by living, no: by dying and being damned does one become a theologian, not by knowing, reading, or speculating.”[134] There is, of course, a danger here of pressing this contrast too starkly; but insofar as these statements correspond to the Bible’s experiential-relational tendency of idiom, they suggest the limitations of academic study and learning for theological understanding. Theology, from this perspective, is learned not only libraries, but in hospitals and at weddings and gravesites; it requires not only study and reflection but love, pathos, and existential ache; and one may deepen as a theologian not only through insight and epiphany but through hearing a delightful strain of music, experiencing a stab of nostalgic longing, or tasting the self-abandonment of falling in love. The person who wants to penetrate most deeply into the theological meaning of the imago Dei, for instance, may progress particularly by considering the experiences associated with having children. From the vantage point of Gen 5:3, it is valid and even illuminating to associate the question, “What does it mean to say that we are created in the image of God?” with the question, “How does it feel to hold your child in your arms for the very first time?”

Notes

1. All translations are from the ESV unless otherwise noted.
2. I document this neglect more systematically below, but for now suffice to say I have been able to locate only one article-length examination of Gen 5:3 and only one text that correlates Gen 5:3 and Luke 3:38. Jeffrey H. Tigay, “‘He begot a son in his likeness after his image’ (Genesis 5:3),” in Tehillah le-Moshe: Biblical and Judaic Studies in Honor of Moshe Greenberg (ed. Moshe Greenburg, Mordechai Cogan et al.; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1997) 139-47, argues that the imago Adami in Gen 5:3 means that Seth was born resembling Adam in normal human manner rather than malformed (which was common in the ancient world and often associated with divine disfavor). G. K. Beale analyzes Gen 5:3 in his treatment of Christ as the last Adam and true Israel, arguing that the NT’s identification of Christ as “Son of God” in Luke 3:38 draws from the identification of Adam as “son of God” in Gen 5:1-3 (NT Theology: The Unfolding of the OT in the New [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2011] 401-2, 427-28, 653). But Beale’s treatment is necessarily brief and invites further exploration. I am grateful to my brother Dane for directing me to Beale’s work.
3. Millard Erickson, Christian Theology (2d ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998) 519.
4. E. H. Merrill, “Image of God,” in Dictionary of the OT: Pentateuch (ed. T. Desmond Alexander and David W. Baker; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003) 443-44.
5. Charles Sherlock, The Doctrine of Humanity (Contours of Christian Theology; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1996) 30, 42, 52, 82.
6. The lengthy account of the imago Dei in Augustine’s De Trinitate is highly exegetically interactive and contains a lengthy discussion of the divine Father-Son relationship in relationship to the imago Dei. But Genesis 5 does not feature in this work or in his On Genesis: A Refutation of the Manichees or his The Literal Meaning of Genesis (The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, vol. 1 [ed. John E. Rotelle; trans. Edmund Hill; Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2002]). See, e.g., Augustine, On the Holy Trinity 10.6 (NPNF1; ed. Philip Schaff; 1887; repr. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2012) 3.157-58.
7. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica I.93.1-9 (trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province; Notre Dame, IN: Christian Classics, 1948) 469-77.
8. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion (trans. and ed. John T. McNeill; trans. Ford Lewis Battles; 2 vols.; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2006) 1.15 (pp. 183-96).
9. One exception to this tendency in church history is Origen’s rather strange application of the imago Adami in Gen 5:3 to Trinitarian relations. See his De Principiis (ANF; ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson; 1885; repr. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2012) 1.247-48. In describing the relationship between God the Father and God the Son, Origen appeals to the imago Adami for help: “Christ is the invisible image of the invisible God, in the same manner as we say, according to the sacred history, that the image of Adam is his son Seth.” Origen then quotes Gen 5:3, arguing that “this image contains the unity of nature and substance belonging to the Father and the Son.”
10. Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics: God and Creation (ed. John Bolt; trans. John Vriend; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004) 2.554, does reference humanity as the “son, or likeness, or offspring of God” once in his discussion of the imago Dei, but he does not develop this comment; and Gen 5:1-3 is not explored in his discussion.
11. G. C. Berkouwer, Man: The Image of God (Studies in Dogmatics; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1962) 69, has a lengthy and interesting discussion of the imago Dei but only refers to Gen 5:3 in the context of his argument that “image” and “likeness” are essentially interchangeable terms (contra most patristic and medieval thought).
12. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics III.1 (ed. G.W. Bromiley and T.F. Torrance; repr. New York: T&T Clark, 2009) 196-97, downplays the significance of Gen 5:3 on the basis of the change in the sequence of nouns and the inversion of prepositions from Genesis 1, and because Genesis 1 deals with male and female together while Genesis 5 deals only with Adam’s male son. Barth calls von Rad’s interpretation of Gen 5:3 expressing the continuance of the divine image through physical generation a “drastic oversimplification,” but his own comments seem more concerned to protect the divine initiative in bestowing the image than to clarify where von Rad’s view needs modification or extension. Cf. Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 291-324.
13. As Joel B. Green notes, “[G]enealogies are concerned as much with theological and apologetic issues as with historical; in them resides remarkable social power.” The Gospel of Luke (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997) 189.
14. Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 1-15 (WBC 1; Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1987) 121, makes a compelling case for seeing this section as extending through 6:8 rather than 5:32.
15. As observed by Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 1-17 (NICOT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990) 248, and Claus Westermann, Genesis 1-11: A Commentary (trans. John J. Scullion; Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1974) 347.
16. It is commonplace to assign Genesis 5 to the “P source” in Pentateuchal source criticism—e.g. Donald E. Gowan, From Eden to Babel: A Commentary on the Book of Genesis 1-11 (ITC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988) 77. Walter Brueggemann, Genesis (IBC; Atlanta: John Knox, 1982) 67, follows this line also, drawing comparisons from “book of generations of Adam” (5:1) to the “book of generations of heaven and earth” (2:4).
17. As an example, Arthur Pink, Gleanings in Genesis (Chicago: Moody, 1922) 73, observes, “until we reach the twenty-first verse of Genesis 5, there is little else in the chapter which calls for comment.”
18. For instance, Stephen G. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty: A Theology of the Hebrew Bible (NSBT 15; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003) 58, in his tracing out the imago Dei through the OT, suggests that Gen 5:3 implies a “link between sonship and the image of God” but does not develop this intriguing suggestion. Similarly, Edward M. Curtis, “Image of God (OT),” ABD 3.390, notes that Gen 5:3 “suggests that the way in which a son resembles his father is in some sense analogous to the way in which the human is like God.” But he does not go further than this one sentence. Terence E. Fretheim, “The Book of Genesis: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections,” NIB 1.380, suggests that “the relationship between son and father embodies the notion of image,” but does not pursue this interesting comment. Moreover, his separation of the meaning of “image” and “likeness” is unconvincing. On this point, see the helpful treatment of Berkouwer, Man: The Image of God 68-69.
19. Brueggemann, Genesis 68.
20. Hermann Gunkel, Genesis (trans. Mark E. Biddle; Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1997) 54-55.
21. John Walton, Genesis (NIVAC; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001) 279-85.
22. Walter Russell Bowie, “The Book of Genesis,” IB 1.527-29.
23. Kyle M. Yates, “Genesis,” in The Wycliffe Bible Commentary (ed. Charles F. Pfeiffer and Everett F. Harrison; Chicago: Moody, 1962) 11.
24. E.A. Speiser, Genesis: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (AB 1; New York: Doubleday, 1964) 39-43.
25. Marcus Dods, The Book of Genesis (New York: A.C. Armstrong and Son, 1903) 51-54.
26. David W. Cotter, Genesis (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2003) 47-48.
27. R. Kent Hughes, Genesis: Beginning and Blessing (Preaching the Word; Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2004) 118-19.
28. Kenneth O. Gangel and Stephen J. Bramer, Genesis (Holman OT Commentary; Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 2002) 59-61.
29. David Atkinson, The Message of Genesis 1-11 (The Bible Speaks Today; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1990) 121-29.
30. Derek Kidner, Genesis: An Introduction and Commentary (TOTC; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1967) 80.
31. Fritsch, Book of Genesis 38.
32. Eugene H. Maly, “Genesis,” in The Jerome Biblical Commentary (ed. Raymond E. Brown, Joseph A. Fitzmyer, and Roland E. Murphy; Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1968) 14.
33. R. R. Reno, Genesis (Brazos Theological Commentary; Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2010) 111-12, interprets Genesis 5 in light of the cycle of decay and cleansing in Genesis 1-11, contrasting the failure of Cain with Seth’s promise as a fresh start. His comments are illuminating with respect to the general flow of Genesis 5-11, but do not help with the interpretation of Gen 5:3.
34. John Calvin, Commentaries on the First Book of Moses called Genesis (trans. Rev. John King; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003) 1.228-29.
35. Martin Luther, Commentary on Genesis (trans. J. Theodore Mueller; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1958) 1.121.
36. Ulrich Zwingli, “Annotations on Genesis 5:3, ” in Genesis 1-11 (ed. John L. Thompson; Reformation Commentary on Scripture; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2012) 218.
37. David Chytraeus, Commentary on Genesis, in Genesis 1-11 (ed. John L. Thompson) 218.
38. Andrew Willet, Commentary on Genesis, in Genesis 1-11 (ed. John L. Thompson) 217.
39. John Gill, An Exposition of the First Book of Moses Called Genesis (1763; repr. Springfield: Particular Baptist Press, 2010) 96-97.
40. Pink, Gleanings in Genesis 73.
41. C. F. Keil and F. Delitzsch, Commentary on the OT in Ten Volumes (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986) 1.124.
42. Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1991) 20.
43. Brueggemann, Genesis 68, interprets the sonship metaphor of Gen 5:3 as reflecting a weakening of the imago Dei in Seth and his heirs, resulting in a “strange, unresolved mixture of the regal image of God and the threatened image of Adam” (emphasis original).
44. John C. Jeske, Genesis (People’s Bible Commentary; St. Louis: Concordia, 1992) 69.
45. G. Henton Davies, Genesis (Broadman Bible Commentary 1; Nashville, Broadman, 1969) 149.
46. Ronald Youngblood, “Genesis,” in The NIV Study Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1985) 13, “as God created man in his own perfect image, so now sinful Adam has a son in his own imperfect image.”
47. Gerhard von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (rev. ed.; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1972) 70.
48. Wenham, Genesis 1-15 127.
49. C. F. Keil, The Pentateuch, in C. F. Keil and F. Delitzsch, Commentary on the OT (1866; repr. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2011) 1.79.
50. Hamilton, Book of Genesis 255-56.
51. Gowan, From Eden to Babel 79-80.
52. Westermann, Genesis 1-11 347-48, 356.
53. John Skinner, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Genesis (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1910) 130.
54. James McKeown, Genesis (Two Horizons OT Commentary; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008) 45-47.
55. Kenneth A. Matthews, Genesis 1-11:26 (NAC; Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1996) 310, combines this view with the older view of Calvin and Luther above, seeing Gen 5:3 as communicating both the blessing of God’s good image as well as the sinfulness of Adam’s.
56. John E. Hartley, Genesis (NIBC; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000) 92.
57. Allen Ross, Genesis (Cornerstone Biblical Commentary; Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale, 2008) 65.
58. Umberto Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis (trans. Israel Abrahams; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1044) 275.
59. Robert Davidson, Genesis 1-11 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973) 62.
60. Peter Martyr Vermigli, Commentary on Genesis, in Genesis 1-11 (ed. John L. Thompson) 217.
61. James Montgomery Boice, Genesis: An Expositional Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982) 1.224-25, suggests that the imago Adami refers to the godly line of ancestors who displayed “a likeness to Adam in that they followed his lead in worshiping the true God.”
62. John Chrysostom, “Homily 21, ” in Saint John Chrysostom: Homilies on Genesis 18-45 (trans. Robert C. Hill; The Fathers of the Church; Washington, DC: Catholic University of America, 1990) 55, interpreted the imago Adami as meaning, “in other words, of the same ilk as his parent, preserving the same stamp of virtue, revealing the image of his father in his actions.”
63. Philo, Quaestiones et Solutiones in Genesin, I, in The Works of Philo: Complete and Unabridged (trans. C. D. Yonge; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993) 807-8.
64. See the survey of literature in Scot McKnight, “Seth,” in Dictionary of the OT: Pentateuch 740-41.
65. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis (trans. Michael Maher; Aramaic Bible 1B; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1992) 31.
66. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis 36.
67. Genesis Rabbah 24.6 (trans. and ed. Rabbi H. Freeman and Maurice Simon; London: Soncino, 1939) 203.
68. Kidner, Genesis 80, argues this section was originally a self-contained unit.
69. Charles T. Fritsch, The Book of Genesis (Layman’s Bible Commentary; Richmond: John Knox, 1959) 38.
70. It is beyond the scope of this paper to explore later biblical echoes of the comparison between begetting and creating. But to chart out what direction such a project might take, the sonship connotations of the imago Dei in Gen 5:1-3 must be seen in the context of the development of the motif of the imago Dei throughout the OT, from Adam to Israel to David to the fully orbed messianic expectation. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty, argues that the royal and sonship connotations of the imago Dei in Genesis are echoed throughout the OT in the portrayals of Abraham (p. 76), Moses’ descent at Sinai (p. 106), David (pp. 141, 198), Solomon (pp. 147, 202), and Israel as a whole (p. 225).
71. Edward Mason Curtis, Man as the Image of God in Genesis in the Light of Ancient Near Eastern Parallels (Ph.D. diss.; University of Pennsylvania, 1984); J. Richard Middleton, The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1 (Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2005) 93-145, has a briefer and helpful overview, from which I have especially benefitted in what follows.
72. See the introductory comments by L. W. King, Enuma Elish:The Seven Tablets of Creation (English Translations; London: Luzac, 1902) 1.lxxxi–lxxxvii. Middleton, Liberating Image 131, also draws attention to the use of cognate words for the watery deep (Hebrew תהום and Akkadian tiamat), the threefold classification of land animals, the broad sequence of creation events, the important place of humanity in the creation, and the divine rest after creation.
73. King, Enuma Elish 1.lxxxvii.
74. Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Genesis 277. King, Enuma Elish 5, renders this verse, “And the god Anu … Nudimmud, whom his fathers [his] begetters.”
75. See especially 1.3, 2.9; cf. 1.52, 1.55, 1.127, 2.2, 2.33, 3.24, 4.20.
76. Curtis, “Image of God (OT)” 390-91; Middleton, Liberating Image 99.
77. Middleton, Liberating Image 108-11.
78. D. J. A. Clines, “Humanity as the Image of God,” TynBul 19 (1968) 34. Middleton, Liberating Image 109, also cites these last two examples.
79. Middleton, Liberating Image 109.
80. Ibid. 99.
81. Gilgamesh Epic 1.2.30-35, translated by Alexander Heidel, in The Gilgamesh Epic and OT Parallels (2d ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1949) 18-19. Jeffrey H. Tigay, The Evolution of the Gilgamesh Epic (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982) 192-97, analyzes earlier and later versions of this passage and draws out similarities with a passage from the first tablet of The Atrahasis Epic.
82. Middleton, Liberating Image 97, cites Speiser’s rendering of Descent of Ishtar to the Underworld 11-12: “Ea in his wise heart conceived an image [zikru], and created Asushunamir, a eunuch.”
83. Middleton, Liberating Image 112.
84. Ibid. 113.
85. For discussion, see ibid.
86. Walter L. Liefeld, Luke (EBC 8; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984) 861.
87. François Bovon, A Commentary on the Gospel of Luke 1:1-9:50 (trans. Christine M. Thomas; Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002) 136-37.
88. Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of Luke (SacPag; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991) 72.
89. Malcolm O. Tolbert, Luke, in The Broadman Bible Commentary (Nashville: Broadman, 1970) 9.41.
90. John Martin Creed, The Gospel According to St. Luke (London, MacMillan, 1930) 59.
91. Walter Russell Bowie, The Gospel According to Luke, IB 8.82.
92. Ray Summers, Commentary on Luke (Waco, TX: Word, 1972) 52, simply comments that Adam is the “father of the human race.”
93. So John Calvin, Commentary on a Harmony of the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, vol. 1 (trans. William Pringle (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2003).
94. Trent C. Butler, Luke (Holman NT Commentary; Nashville: Holman, 2000) 51.
95. Leon Morris, Luke: An Introduction and Commentary (TNTC; repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990) 111.
96. R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” NIB 9.95.
97. Arthur A. Just Jr., Luke 1:1-9:50 (Concordia Commentary; St. Louis: Concordia, 1996) 165, 168.
98. C. Marvin Pate, Luke (Moody Gospel Commentary; Chicago: Moody, 1995) 110-11.
99. William F. Arndt, Luke (Concordia Classic Commentary Series; St. Louis: Concordia, 1956) 123-24.
100. Some manuscripts contain fewer names.
101. Marshall, Gospel of Luke 161.
102. Ibid.
103. David Lyle Jeffrey, Luke (Brazos Theological Commentary; Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2012) 64-65.
104. Adolf Schlatter, Das Evangelium des Lukas: Aus seinen Quellen erklärt (2d ed.; Stuttgart: Calwer, 1960) 218-19.
105. William Manson, The Gospel of Luke (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1930) 35.
106. E. Earle Ellis, The Gospel of Luke (London: Nelson, 1966) 93.
107. Justo A. Gonzalez, Luke (Belief; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010) 55-56.
108. Zacharias Mattam, The Gospel According to St. Luke: The Voice of the Beloved (Mumbai: St. Pauls, 2008) 118-21.
109. N. T. Wright, Luke for Everyone (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2004) 40, finds the significance of the ending of the genealogy as primarily indicating the universal relevance of Jesus’ identity, concluding from this phrase, “though Jesus is indeed the Messiah of Israel (another meaning of ‘son of God’), he is so precisely for the whole world.”
110. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 3.22.
111. David Wilcock, The Message of Luke: The Savior of the World (The Bible Speaks Today; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1979) 57-58.
112. Ambrose, Exposition of the Gospel of Luke, in Luke (ACCSNT 3; ed. Arthur A. Just Jr.; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003) 70.
113. John Nolland, Luke 1-9:20 (WBC 35A; Dallas: Word, 1989) 167, 173.
114. Alfred Plummer, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to St. Luke (ICC; New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1900) 105.
115. Frederick Louis Godet, Commentary on the Gospel of Luke (Classic Commentary Library; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1887) 1.207.
116. Fred B. Craddock, Luke (IBC; Louisville: John Knox, 1990) 53, who strangely denies that Luke is developing a “second Adam” Christology even while affirming that the purpose of Luke 3:38 is to express “the universal reach of God’s purpose.”
117. R. Kent Hughes, Luke (Preaching the Word; Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1998) 1.129.
118. Green, Gospel of Luke 189.
119. Norval Geldenhuys, Commentary on the Gospel of Luke (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1951) 153.
120. Darrell L. Bock, Luke 1:1-9:50 (BECNT; Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1994) 360. Cf. idem, Luke (NIVAC; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996) 123-24.
121. Philip Graham Ryken, Luke (Reformed Expository Commentary; Phillipsburg: P&R, 2009) 1.148-49.
122. As noted above, this connection is made uniquely in Beale, NT Theology 401-2, 427-28, 653.
123. So Bock, Luke 1:1-9:50 360.
124. Nolland, Luke 1-9:20 173.
125. Hughes, Luke 129.
126. Of course, this need not preclude the additional corollary emphases of (1) and (2) insofar as Luke also wants to identify Christ as the true humanity, second Adam, and image of God. But if some combining of a Christological and anthropological referent is in view, as some commentators favor, the phrase has a Christological thrust precisely because it more immediately has an anthropological thrust. In this way Luke’s genealogy would serve to anticipate not just Paul’s identification of humanity as the offspring of God in Acts 17:28, but more subtly his identification of Christ as the image of God in Col 1:5 and 2 Cor 4:4.
127. On the distinction between “echo” and “allusion,” see Richard Hays, Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1986). Peter Mallen, “Genesis in Luke-Acts,” in Genesis in the NT (Library of NT Studies; New York: Bloomsbury, 2012) 60-82, has demonstrated a significant number of allusions in Luke to Genesis. In light of this, it would not be surprising if Luke’s genealogy contained an allusion to the first genealogy in Genesis. I am grateful to my brother Dane for directing me to Hays’s discussion.
128. Philo, On the Virtues 8.34, 12.77, 14.85, 33.179, in Works of Philo 643, 647, 648, 658.
129. Philo, On the Virtues 37.204, in Works of Philo 661.
130. As quoted in Beale, NT Biblical Theology 444. Beale also cites some additional relevant texts passages in Philo.
131. James Barr, “The Image of God in the Book of Genesis—A Study of Terminology,” BJRL 51 (1968): 12.
132. Though we speak of “the metaphor of begottenness” for the imago Dei, it would be more accurate to say that God himself, in his triune relations and also in his act of creation, exemplifies the true meaning of “Father” and “Son,” of which our father and son relationships are metaphors.
133. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion 1.10.2 (trans. and ed. John T. McNeil) 1.97.
134. Quoted in Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics I.1 18. I am grateful to Dane Ortlund, Eric Ortlund, and Joel Green for their thoughtful feedback on earlier drafts of this article.