Genesis 5 is not a long chapter. It focuses on the generations of Adam. A few things strike me.
The list includes 10 men starting with Adam and ending with Noah. No others are mentioned.
They lived an average of 912 years (not counting Enoch).
Enoch is the only one mentioned walking closely with God, and he is the only one described as “disappearing,” not dying.
Despite the extraordinarily long lives of these men, despite the myriad sons and daughters born to them, none were described as being close to God except Enoch. This strikes me as important, especially considering that the Old Testament is a history of the relationship between God and his people.
It suggests that the problems started early.
Did They Really Live That Long?
And what about those long lives? In the past, I glossed over this as a part of the Bible someone like me would never understand, but I want to understand. What if it is important?
John Piper provides a reasonable explanation for the longevity. He reminds us that death was not part of God’s original creation, but when Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they introduced death into the world.
In other words, those long lives testify that death was not part of the perfect creation. God ordains as a lesson to us that the force of life be preserved for hundreds of years in very long lives in those early centuries to show that life, not death, was his design and our portion in creation at the beginning. So, the long lives of those first humans stand as a testimony of how utterly short our lives are and how God’s design at the beginning and his design in the future is life — indeed, eternal life. - John Piper
I encourage you to read the whole article by John Piper because he explains how the length of lifespans changed over time.
Those who did not live as long as their ancestors recognized that it was because of sin that they did not, but still, they remembered.
The further the generations from God’s creation, the closer death came.
Genealogy
Another purpose of this chapter is to make the genealogical connection from Adam to Noah since Noah is the next main character in God’s story. It was important to show the continuity from God’s original creation (when he made them male and female, Gen 1:27 and Gen 5:2, just in case of confusion).
For those who study the Bible, the obvious connections between every book are vitally important.
While it is tempting to skim over the genealogical connections of a bunch of dudes with hard-to-pronounce names, it serves a purpose and shows God’s perfect plan from start to finish.
The Power of Stories
Another thing I wonder, though, is whether Adam passed on the story of his time with God in the garden. Or did he keep that information to himself? Was he accepting of God’s righteous judgment or bitter? Or was he embarrassed that he and Eve ruined it for everyone else?
The stories told from one generation to the next shape the attitudes and values of the future.
That only one man among the ten listed in the genealogy was close to God suggests that Adam may not have shared his experiences. I know I’m not a fan of sharing stories of my failures with others.
What would have happened if Adam had told his story loud and proud, letting his progeny know how amazing and fabulous God is?
This reminds me of the first and second world war veterans who remained silent about their experiences.
It reminds me of the survivors of the Holocaust who kept stories to themselves to protect their loved ones.
Or those victims of human exploitation and abuse of any kind.
Silence empowers evil. Silence leads to the distortion of the truth.
If Adam told his kin stories about walking with God, being in God’s presence, and how amazing it was, would more of those men listed in the genealogy have been described as close to God?
The stories passed from generation to generation matter.
Not only do they connect us to those who came before, but they shape our attitudes and values.
When I was growing up, I did not know that my grandfather was a POW of the Japanese in World War II. I only knew him as a quiet but loving man who let my grandma take the lead socially. He died when I was young, and I never really knew him.
When I was old enough, I learned that he came from a dirt-poor family in Colorado Springs, did not graduate high school, but enlisted in the U.S. Navy at 17 years old. He served on the U.S.S. Houston, sunk off the coast of Java on February 28, 1942. Of the 1,008 servicemembers on that ship, only 266 survived to make it home.
At 17 years old, he was held captive for three years by the Japanese and played a part in building the bridge on the Burma-Thailand Death Railway. His scrapbooks show handwritten postcards with checkboxes showing his family that he was well-employed and being taken care of. Anyone familiar with those camps knows that the opposite was true.
I learned about what he endured by watching documentaries and reading books like Ship of Ghosts.
After those devastating three years, my grandfather worked as a recruiter for the U.S. Navy, served in the Korean War, and eventually served as a liaison in Japan.
In Japan.
In the country of the army of the people who nearly tortured him to death and killed many of his shipmates.
As I let that sink in, I only partially understood what kind of character it might take to do what he did.
I wish I could have heard about his life from him. I wish I could have asked him what kept him motivated in the camps and what inspired him to stay in the Navy his entire career despite his experiences. The imagined fortitude and character awe me.
I also wonder how his story would have impacted my life. Would my perception of myself have changed knowing that I was a descendant of a resilient warrior, a survivor, a hero?
I like to think it might have. I might have recognized that if he had those traits, then maybe I did too.
This is why I wonder if Adam told his stories.
If he did, his children might have recognized that they, too, were children of God who could walk with him again.
If Adam kept silent, did his kin press him for details? Adam lived 930 years, so there was plenty of time. Did his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren sit at his knee and beg for stories of the garden? Did they ask questions about what he talked with God about and which part of the garden was God’s favorite?
Or did he remain silent, leaving them to make up their own stories?
Perhaps that is why only Enoch was close to God.