Enhancing Creation Apologetics through Biblical Theology—Part Four

Posted on by June 10, 2025
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What is the best approach to doing biblical theology? Two different perspectives have become popular among Evangelicals.

In this series on how biblical creationists can improve their promotion and defense of Genesis 1–11 as being historically accurate, we have now looked at two topics from these chapters—the days of creation and the meaning of the 120 years mentioned in Genesis 6:3. I plan to cover at least two more passages in upcoming posts, but before I get to those, I want to spend some more time describing and defining biblical theology. In the first post, I contrasted it with systematic theology to show how it differs from that common approach.

In this article, I want to show how several different writers have defined biblical theology, because there are some different schools of thought concerning what it means to truly do biblical theology. For lack of better terms, I’m going to label these as the Mostly Inductive Approach and the Less Inductive Approach. Please note, you won’t find others using these labels; I made them up (as far as I know) for the purposes of this post. I’m not satisfied with these labels, but they will suffice for now. There are other ways people define biblical theology, but I believe it is safe to say that these are the two most common views among Evangelicals. Generally speaking, proponents of both sides affirm the inerrancy, authority, and divine inspiration of the Bible, and both sides affirm that salvation is by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. They simply have different opinions over what biblical theology is or how is should be carried out.

The Mostly Inductive Approach

In the Moody Handbook of Theology, Paul Enns stated the following:

…biblical theology is…that methodology that takes its material in an historically oriented manner from the Old and New Testaments and arrives at a theology. It is exegetical in nature, drawing its material from the Bible as opposed to a philosophical understanding of theology; it stresses the historical circumstances in which doctrines were propounded; it examines the theology within a given period of history (as in Noahic or Abrahamic eras) or of an individual writer (as Pauline or Johannine writings).1

So, in doing biblical theology, we focus on exegesis. This is a careful inductive study of determining, to the best of our abilities, what the text actually says and means. We study Scripture in chronological order according to when it was written to discover themes and see how doctrines developed in light of the historical circumstances in which the biblical writers lived. It doesn’t start with preset categories and then search the Bible for the data to fill those categories as systematic theology does. Also, it limits the data to what can be found in Scripture, whereas systematic theology often incorporates extra-biblical data. Finally, as the name I gave it implies, it is an inductive approach to doing biblical theology because it doesn’t set out with the answers already in mind.

In the first article of this series, I cited Eugene Merrill’s description of biblical theology. He also defined the task of the biblical theologian this way: “The biblical theologian must work his way through the biblical text, inductively and progressively discovering its theological truth. In the process he may or may not discern patterns and paradigms, but he must make the effort to extract principles that provide the hard data for synthesis.”2

This is probably the clearest explanation of biblical theology I have found. Merrill nailed it. He highlighted the inductive nature of biblical theology—we don’t start with the answers, we discover them through careful study. He also pointed out that the researcher may or may not discern patterns and paradigms. I believe this is an important point to keep in mind, because as we’ll see in the next section, so many theologians attempt to do biblical theology assuming certain patterns and paradigms from the outset.

Progressive Revelation

Merrill also pointed out that we must keep in mind that the Bible was progressively revealed. In case you are not familiar with the concept of progressive revelation, it simply refers to the fact that the information God revealed about himself and his plan was given to man bit by bit over time rather than one big info dump. So, Adam and Eve may have known a small part of God’s plan. God revealed more of his plan to Abraham, and more to Moses, and more to David, etc. This means that we should not expect earlier biblical figures to have had as much knowledge of God’s plan in human history than later biblical figures.

Paul revealed this truth in the way that he used the term “mystery” to describe teachings that were hidden from the Old Testament saints but had now been revealed in his time. For example, in 1 Corinthians 2:7–10, a passage that is frequently misused by Christians to talk about the unimaginable glories of heaven, Paul comes right out and said that there were things hidden from earlier believers that had recently been made known.

But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, the hidden wisdom which God ordained before the ages for our glory, which none of the rulers of this age knew; for had they known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.
But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”
But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God. (1 Corinthians 2:7–10)

Paul also used mystery to describe events related to the future bodily resurrection of believers (1 Corinthians 15:51–53) and while discussing the church, an entity consisting of believing Jews and Gentiles (Ephesians 1:9; 3:1–7). Each of these concepts were either absent from Old Testament teaching, or they were there in embryonic form but certainly not given any emphasis until God revealed them in New Testament times. By the end of this article, I will explain why this brief detour into the doctrine of progressive revelation was relevant to our study.

The Less Inductive Approach

Let’s look at some definitions that I have classified as being less inductive and I think muddy the task of biblical theology. In the book 40 Questions about Biblical Theology, the authors focus on defining biblical theology in the first chapter. They provide both a short and long definition.

Shorter definition: Biblical theology studies how the whole Bible progresses, integrates, and climaxes in Christ.
Longer definition: Biblical theology is a way of analyzing and synthesizing the Bible that makes organic, salvation-historical connections with the whole canon on its own terms, especially regarding how the Old and New Testaments progress, integrate, and climax in Christ.3

While many Christians would agree with these definitions, I see a problem with the first definition and a few problems with the second. In the short definition, the authors show that they have already decided what the major theme of the Bible is before they even start doing biblical theology. They have a definite goal in mind rather than allowing the Bible to reveal the themes and doctrines. Of course, I would agree that Jesus Christ’s ministry, sacrificial death, and resurrection are the most important events that have ever occurred on earth and are huge themes in Scripture, but biblical theology shouldn’t start with the conclusion. If one begins with this definition, then his attempt to perform biblical theology will not truly be an inductive study.

The longer definition has the same problem as the first, but it adds a couple more. The authors stated that it “makes organic, salvation-historical connections…” I believe the authors are inserting a bias that a major theme or the way to read Scripture is through “salvation-historical connections.” This statement is contrary to Merrill’s point that the researcher may or may not find patterns or paradigms. These authors start with a paradigm in mind, thus there may well be a tendency for the researcher to engage in eisegesis as he tries to interpret a passage in a manner that fits his preconceived paradigm.

Also, this statement about salvation-historical connections sounds like they are advocating what is known as the redemptive-historical hermeneutic, which essentially teaches that the way we should read Scripture is to find what it can tell us about Jesus and God’s plan for redeeming mankind. While there are many who have adopted this approach, particularly within Reformed traditions, this is a framework imposed on the text—it is not derived from it. My suspicions grew stronger a few pages later in the book where the authors stated, “When we read any part of the Bible—including the OT—we must read with Christian eyes” (emphasis in original). Of course, it is impossible for Christians to completely set aside our beliefs about Jesus and our knowledge of the New Testament, but when doing biblical theology, we must do our best to discover what the biblical writer and original audience thought about the text rather than imposing our views onto the text.

This same type of approach can be seen in Brian Rosner’s definition in The New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, where he stated the following:

To sum up, biblical theology may be defined as theological interpretation of Scripture in and for the church. It proceeds with historical and literary sensitivity and seeks to analyse and synthesize the Bible’s teaching about God and his relations to the world on its own terms, maintaining sight of the Bible’s overarching narrative and Christocentric focus.4

The popular biblical theology textbook by Gentry and Wellum, God’s Kingdom through God’s Covenants, wholeheartedly endorses Rosner’s definition, quoting it verbatim.5 Notice that these authors assume from the outset that the Bible has a Christocentric focus. Again, I am not denying that the Lord Jesus is the central figure of Scripture, although one could also make the case that God the Father is central or that the Bible is theocentric (God-centered) rather than Christocentric. But it is what these authors mean by Christocentric that can easily lead us into dogmatic theology instead of truly performing biblical theology.

Furthermore, when they describe the task of biblical theology as a “theological interpretation of Scripture,” it raises a red flag in my mind. Do they mean that it’s a theological interpretation, as opposed to a naturalistic one employed by most liberal scholars? If so, then I would not take issue with their use of this phrase. Clearly, the Bible is a book full of theology (teaching about God and his interaction with his creation), so to remove these elements from one’s study of the text would necessarily cause one to miss its meaning. However, if by “theological interpretation of Scripture” the authors are referring to the tendency among covenantalists to read later theology (particularly about Jesus and redemption) into Old Testament passages, then I would strongly object since this approach does not allow for the text to stand on its own.

The New Dictionary of Biblical Theology provides a good example of the Less Inductive Approach to biblical theology.

D. A. Carson also provided a definition for biblical theology in The New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, and I think he handled it a little better than Rosner, at least initially. He stated, “biblical theology focuses on the inductive study of the biblical texts in their final form, seeking progression towards greater and greater faithfulness”6. I think his description of biblical theology as an “inductive study of the biblical text in their final form” is a great way to describe the task of biblical theology. However, in the next sentence, Carson added, “the discipline as a whole must strive toward the elucidation of the biblical documents along the axis of redemptive history…” And then in the next sentence, he wrote, “On the one hand, biblical theology will try to preserve the glorious diversity of the biblical documents; on the other, it will try to uncover all that holds them together, sacrificing neither historical particularity nor the unifying sweep of redemptive history.”7 Did you notice the italicized words in these two sentences. It is quite common to see authors use the term “redemptive history” when describing their approach to interpreting Scripture. What they often mean by this, is that they attempt to interpret Scripture through the lens of what it tells us about Jesus and/or his atoning work on the cross, rather than simply trying to determine what the text says. Thus, there has been a tendency among these theologians to use later revelation to reinterpret earlier passages to make them say something about Jesus and/or man’s salvation when the passage may not actually be about these matters.

Which View Is Better?

Since there are conflicting ideas of how to define biblical theology, it may not be fair to say that one of the two positions provides a more accurate definition than the other. That being said, I believe the Mostly Inductive Approach offers greater value to those seeking to properly understand the biblical text. By striving to understand a given passage in the same way as the original audience might have understood it, we are likely closer to discovering the author’s intended meaning.

In many ways, the differences outlined above are consistent with some of the distinctions between Dispensationalism and Covenantalism. Dispensationalism is primarily a way of exegeting and interpreting the text in a manner that emphasizes the passage’s original meaning. Covenantalism can be likened to a theological framework based on certain Reformation era presuppositions that are imposed onto the text.

Multiple objections can be raised against the second approach. By opting for some form of Christo-centric or redemptive-historical hermeneutic, supporters of this view have created, perhaps unwittingly, some concerning problems:

  • First, implicit in their determination to read older revelation through the clearer lens of newer revelation, proponents of this view are essentially saying that the older texts cannot stand on their own. Instead, they need to import ideas from later revelation. While more recent revelation can illuminate previous passages, they should never cause us to reinterpret older revelation or import a foreign meaning into the passage.
  • Second, it flows from the first point that the original audience could not have obtained a proper interpretation of the revelation God had given them. After all, if one needs later revelation to (re)interpret previous revelation, then how could the original recipients of said message ever properly understand that? And yet Scripture repeatedly shows that God holds people accountable for their response to the revelation they have been given. If they could not understand that revelation because the clarifications of later revelation had not yet been revealed, then how could God justly hold them accountable for something they could not possibly know?
  • These points would also seem to imply that the Holy Spirit didn’t quite get it right the first time that he inspired the text to be written. However, once he inspired the writing of the New Testament books, then he was able to make things right. Obviously, no Bible-believing Christian would believe that the Holy Spirit made a mistake and I’m confident the authors I cited above would not believe this, but this conclusion can easily be drawn from the premises laid out by those seeking to read earlier revelation through the lens of later revelation.
  • Finally, interpreting the text via a Christological lens or a redemptive-historical lens could be seen as either a repudiation of progressive revelation or a drastic reduction in the amount of information that God withheld from earlier biblical figures. On that view, we should probably assume that our Old Testament heroes knew far more about God’s redemptive plan than they ever let on.

For these reasons and more, I believe that the Mostly Inductive Approach to biblical theology described by Enns and Merrill will yield more valuable results in our study. By attempting to put ourselves in the minds of the original audience, we will often force ourselves to think through the text in ways that can enhance or correct our traditional understanding of a given text. On the other hand, the position described by Carson, Rosner, and others above adds little to the study of theology and imposes a later theological framework onto earlier biblical passages. In some ways, it encourages us to simply adopt what others have already said about the text.

Insights from Writing Historical Fiction

It may seem odd to conclude this blog post with insights I learned while writing some of my novels, but I think this will help shed light on these two approaches in a way that can cut through the theological jargon above. While writing The Remnant Trilogy, three historical fiction novels about the life of Noah up until the time of the flood, I had to repeatedly try to put myself in Noah’s mind (more accurately, my fictional conception of Noah’s mind). This meant that I could not use later revelation to flesh out his knowledge. While I could have Noah speak of God’s judgment on humanity once God revealed that to him, I could not have him describe Christ’s sacrificial death and resurrection because those things had not happened yet and they had not been revealed to man yet.

Writing The Remnant Trilogy gave me plenty of practical experience in doing biblical theology. I was not able to import later revelation into Noah’s knowledge base or his culture. I limited his knowledge of God’s revelation to certain details described in Genesis 1–6.

I was limited to the first six chapters of Genesis, and even then, I couldn’t just assume that Noah knew all of the details from those chapters. Did he have written or oral records with those details? We can’t know that. I proceeded as though his family had passed down some of the information from the Bible’s earliest chapters, but Noah was not aware of all of it, and he still need to decide whether he would believe information that might have sounded legendary or mythical in his day. Was there truly a talking serpent? Was his great grandfather Enoch taken up into heaven without dying? (Of course, I believe these are true – I’m simply making the point that someone in Noah’s time might find them hard to believe.)

I have heard many creationists state that Noah could have learned all these details because his grandfather (Methuselah) knew Adam. If the Masoretic Text contains the correct chronology in Genesis 5, then their lifespans overlapped for more than 200 years, so it is within the realm of possibility that they knew each other. However, there is no reason to assume that Methuselah knew Adam and received information about these early chapters directly from the first man. But Adam was his great…great grandfather, so he must’ve known him, right? Adam was everyone’s father, grandfather, great grandfather, etc. He might have had hundreds of thousands or millions of descendants by the time Methuselah was born. Why should we assume that he kept in touch with this one particular distant descendant?

Conclusion

By limiting Noah’s knowledge of God’s plan to what is revealed in Genesis 1–6, I believe my depiction of him made him a much more relatable and realistic character. Of course, it is possible that he knew more about these matters than what Scripture tells us, but we simply have no way to know this.

And so it is with biblical theology. I believe we should adopt an approach that strives to understand the text the way the original audience might have understood it. Yes, we have the great benefit of later revelation that reveals many more details of God’s plan, but we should not impose our knowledge into the minds of our distant forebears who were not privy to this information.

In his infinite wisdom, God chose to reveal his plan to us through progressive revelation. And we can study that revelation in a variety of ways. We can engage in systematic theology, historical theology, practical theology, and a number of other theologies. But if we are to do biblical theology, then I suggest that we allow it to be a distinct discipline that is both exegetical and inductive while honoring progressive revelation. I believe such an approach will be highly beneficial to biblical creationists as we insist on allowing authorial intent and the context of the original audience to carry greater weight than details revealed or discovered centuries or millennia later.

May the Holy Spirit guide each of us as we prayerfully and carefully seek to rightly divide the word of truth.

  1. Paul P. Enns, The Moody Handbook of Theology (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1989), p. 20. ↩

  2. Eugene Merrill, “Introduction” in Roy B. Zuck, ed., A Biblical Theology of the Old Testament (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1991), p. 3. ↩

  3. Jason DeRouchie, Oren Martin, and Andrew Naselli, 40 Questions about Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Academic, 2020), p. 20. ↩

  4. Brian S. Rosner, 2000. “Biblical Theology” in New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, edited by T. Desmond Alexander and Brian S. Rosner, electronic ed., (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), p. 10. ↩

  5. Peter Gentry and Stephen Wellum, God’s Kingdom through God’s Covenants: A Concise Biblical Theology (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2015), p. 22. ↩

  6. D.A. Carson, New Dictionary of Biblical Theology, p. 100. ↩

  7. Ibid. ↩

Enhancing Creation Apologetics through Biblical Theology—Part Three

Posted on by April 15, 2025
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Interpreting the Bible involves more than applying our own systematic theology to a given passage. We must look carefully at the text in light of its context, while employing both biblical theology and systematic theology.

In the previous post in this series on biblical theology, we took a closer look at Genesis 6:3 and examined an interpretation that has been favored by many creationists in recent decades. God had stated that His spirit would not “strive with” or “remain” in man indefinitely, and then He mentioned a judgment of some sort that had something to do with a 120-year time period. Here is the verse again:

And the LORD said, “My Spirit shall not strive with man forever, for he is indeed flesh; yet his days shall be one hundred and twenty years.”

While most commentators believe this judgment had to do with God limiting man’s lifespan to 120 years, many creationists have adopted the position that the 120-year time span had to do with a countdown to the Flood—that God was giving man 120 years to turn from his wickedness. As we examined that idea, we saw that there were at least three problems with it. First, the text does not tell us that God spoke these words to a human, and when we compare this verse with all of the other passages in the first five chapters of Genesis, we can make a strong case that God was not speaking to a man or group of humans in this passage. So, how would man ever know that God was giving them 120 years to repent? Second, based on a lexical analysis, the word translated as “strive with” in some Bibles should probably be translated as “abide in,” which would strongly favor the reduction in lifespan view. Finally, even if it should be translated as “strive with,” the verse doesn’t quite make sense if we view it as a countdown to the Flood. That is, how would a 120-year countdown to the Flood resolve the issue of God’s spirit striving with man since mankind was still wicked after the Flood, and God’s spirit would still be striving with us today.

Before we turn our attention to discover how we can use biblical theology to better understand this verse, I need to explain how these two posts fit within the overall series. Those involved in creation apologetics generally focus on Genesis 1–11, since we see these chapters as providing the historical foundation for the biblical worldview. These chapters include major earth-shaping events, such as creation, man’s fall, the Flood, and the Babel event. Since Genesis 6:3 is right in the middle of these chapters, we need to be sure that we are properly interpreting this verse.

Genesis 6:3 and Biblical Theology

As we saw in the previous post, careful exegesis shows us that Genesis 6:3 should be understood as saying that God’s spirit would not “remain in” or “abide in” man indefinitely. This translation strongly favors the countdown view. It also gives us a reason for why man’s lifespan dropped rapidly after the flood—God withdrew some of His life-giving spirit that had enabled man to live so long.

Why would the Lord deliver this type of punishment on mankind? Clearly, this was a way in which God would limit the amount of wickedness humans could carry out. Instead of living nearly a thousand years, now they would have a maximum of 120 years to rebel against their Creator.

This punishment is also consistent with what God did when Adam and Eve sinned in the garden. If they had not sinned, they would have lived forever, but their rebellion brought death upon themselves and the rest of creation (Romans 5:12; 8:20–22). The Lord banished them from the garden so that they could not take from the tree of life and live forever (Genesis 3:22–24). So, God had already reduced man’s limitless lifespan to about 1,000 years.1 Similarly, at Babel, God confused man’s language, which forced them to scatter. While He didn’t reduce their lifespans here, His judgment curbed their overall wickedness by keeping them apart.

We need to keep in mind how the original audience might have understood this passage. Imagine being one of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness, or if you were able to go back and read the Bible for the first time without any prior knowledge of what it said, what would probably be going through your mind as you reached the end of Genesis 5? 930 years and he died…912 years and he died…910 years and he died…895 years and he died…969 years and he died…777 years and he died. It seems natural to start wondering, “Why did they live so long?” or put a different way, “Why don’t we live so long?” I have been asked these questions many times, so I know that a lot of people wonder about this. When the Israelites reached Mt. Sinai, none of them had experienced anything like the lifespans described in Genesis 5 and 11. So, it would make perfect sense that they would be wondering the same thing. If you’ve ever wondered this after reading Genesis 5, wouldn’t it be great if the Bible would give you the answer to that question? That’s exactly what it does in the very next passage—man’s lifespan will be limited to 120 years.

Beginning at the point, lifespans rapidly declined, and they continued to do so until Moses, the man who wrote this passage, lived 120 years. Since his time, only one person in the Bible is said to have lived longer—Jehoiada the priest lived 130 years (2 Chronicles 24:15). Perhaps God blessed him with a longer life because he and his wife rescued baby Joash from being killed along with all of his brothers by the wicked Queen Athaliah. Even in our day, the oldest people come close to 120, but they don’t reach it.2 And even if there are some exceptions, like Jehoiada, it doesn’t rule out the lifespan view of Genesis 6:3. God often makes exceptions in Scripture. For example, Hebrews 9:27 tells us that “it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment.” But it seems that Lazarus and others raised from the dead in the Bible (other than Jesus) ended up dying twice.

Finally, there is another detail that is often overlooked in this discussion. The immediate context of this verse is not the Flood. Instead, it appears right in the middle of the passage about the enigmatic sons of God and the Nephilim. The text has not yet introduced the Flood, the Ark, or given a full description of man’s abundant wickedness on the earth. In fact, it is not until the following verses, Genesis 6:5–12, that the Bible gives us any indication that the world was filled with violence and other evils. Genesis 3 introduces man’s fall when Adam and Eve rebelled against God, and the next chapter tells us that Cain killed Abel and that one of Cain’s distant descendants was a murderer and polygamist (Genesis 4:19–24). Genesis 5 gives us the genealogy of Adam to Noah through Adam’s son Shem. There we read about Enoch, a man who “walked with God” (Genesis 5:24). By the time we reach Genesis 6, the only statement about the spiritual state of mankind in general tells us that when Seth’s son Enosh was born, men began to call on the name of the LORD (Genesis 4:26). So, why would a first-time reader think that this judgment has to do with something that hasn’t been mentioned yet?

Objection – “Forever” Contradicts the Lifespan View

One potential objection to the lifespan view is that if the passage means that God’s spirit would not “abide” or “remain” in man forever, then the verse doesn’t really seem make sense given its location in the biblical narrative. That is, mankind was not living “forever” at this point in history. Sure, it might have made sense if He said this to Adam and Eve when they sinned, because they were no longer going to be able to live forever. And although some of their descendants before the Flood lived very long lives of over 900 years, these people didn’t live forever. So, how does the lifespan view account for this dilemma.

This objection poses a good challenge if we were limited to reading this verse in English, because most of our Bibles do indeed translate the Hebrew word ‘olam as “forever.” However, the Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT) gives its primary definition as a “long time, duration.” And the Brown-Driver-Briggs lexicon defines it as “long duration, antiquity, futurity.” Thus, the NET Bible’s use of “indefinitely” here makes better sense than forever: God’s spirit would not remain in man indefinitely.

Yes, ‘olam can mean forever, but there are numerous instances in the Old Testament, particularly in the five books of Moses, where it simply refers to a long time or an indefinite period of time. Let’s look at some examples where ‘olam refers to a long or indefinite period of time to demonstrate why this objection to the countdown view does not hold up.

  • In Exodus 21:6, if a slave who was going to be set free in his seventh year of service decided that he wanted to remain with his master, then his master was to pierce his ear with an awl, and the slave “shall serve him forever” (‘olam). Obviously, this use of ‘olam cannot mean “forever” or “eternally.” It just refers to the rest of the man’s lifetime, so here it refers to a maximum of several decades.
  • In Deuteronomy 23:3, ‘olam refers to a time period consisting of ten generations. Moses told the people, “An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter the assembly of the LORD; even to the tenth generation none of his descendants shall enter the assembly of the LORD forever” (‘olam).
  • In Exodus 28:43, God gave Moses a command about the Levitical priests and their clothing that was to be “a statute forever (‘olam) to him [Aaron] and his descendants after him.” However, the book of Hebrews makes it clear that the Levitical system has been annulled (Hebrews 7:11–19; 8:13) and made obsolete through the new covenant instituted by Jesus Christ. So, ‘olam simply cannot mean forever in Exodus 28:43.

Many other examples could be cited, but three of them from the books of Moses should make it clear that ‘olam does not always mean “forever.” Instead, it is a flexible term that often refers to a long and indefinite period of time. If we use this meaning while reading Genesis 6:3, then it makes perfect sense in light of the lifespan view. God’s spirit was not going to remain in man for such a long time. When man lived nearly 1,000 years, God’s spirit abided in man for a long time, but with the pronouncement of the judgment in Genesis 6:3, this long period of time was going to be reduced to 120 years.

Why Would God Limit Man’s Lifespan Again?

This topic is explored in much greater detail in my book, Fallen: The Sons of God and the Nephilim, which has been called the most detailed Bible study you can find on Genesis 6:1–4.

How does the lifespan view fit the context of Genesis 6:1–4? That is, why would this be a suitable punishment for the wickedness described here? Obviously, something happened in Genesis 6:1–2 to bring about such a harsh judgment from God that He would cut man’s lifespan from nearly 1,000 down to 120 years. I have written at length on Genesis 6:1–4 in my book, Fallen: The Sons of God and the Nephilim. At nearly 500 pages, I believe it is the most detailed Bible study on this topic that you can find. The Bible tells us that rebellious angelic beings (Heb. bene ha ’elohim) married women, and their offspring were the Nephilim (giants).3 This was a sin against the natural order and contributed to the overall depravity of man that brought about the judgment of the Flood. Even if you disagree with my understanding of Genesis 6:1–4, it should still be clear why the sin described in these verses led to God reducing man’s lifespan? As we mentioned earlier, it would drastically curb the amount of wickedness a person could carry out in his lifetime. This would, in turn, reduce the overall amount of wickedness on the earth.

There is a possible second reason why God would dole out this punishment, but I’ll admit that this involves some speculation on my part. And even if this supposition on my part turns out to be inaccurate, it has no bearing on how Genesis 6:3 should be interpreted. My speculation here is solely about a possible reason why a reduction in man’s lifespan was an appropriate punishment for the sin described in Genesis 6:1–2. We know that the women (“daughters of men”) involved with the sons of God were not passive participants in these illicit unions. The Bible does not ascribe motives to the women who committed this sin. In Genesis 5, we repeatedly see the phrase “and he died” used for each person in that genealogy except for Enoch, stressing the certitude of the judgment God pronounced after Adam and Eve sinned. Perhaps the women who married the sons of God were trying to find a way to cheat death, not for themselves, but for their offspring. Since Adam had brought death upon himself and his descendants, mankind could not escape death. But what if these women thought that by having children with immortal heavenly beings, their offspring might possibly be immortal. Again, I know this point is highly speculative, but it would make sense of God’s judgment because the punishment would fit the crime. As humanity tried to find a way to overcome God’s first judgment in the garden, God responded accordingly. Instead of living forever (before Adam’s sin) or even to nearly 1,000 years (after Adam’s sin), now they would be limited to just 120 years.

Conclusion

This article demonstrated that the meaning of Genesis 6:3 becomes much clearer when we use biblical theology in addition to systematic theology. The conclusion is that this passage tells us that God said He was going to reduce man’s lifespan to 120 years. This makes perfect sense of the context and the narrative flow. It does not rely solely upon one’s systematic theology being imposed on the passage.

The lifespan view provides a very good explanation in the text itself as to why man’s lifespans were drastically reduced. And there is no need to hypothesize about how the lifespans were drastically shortened since the inspired text has already given us the answer—God withdrew some of His life-giving spirit. By not allowing His life-giving spirit to abide in man for such a long time, man’s lifespan was greatly reduced, which drastically limited the amount of wickedness he could carry out in his lifetime.

  1. The Bible doesn’t clearly reveal the maximum lifespan of post-fall, pre-Flood man, but none of the individuals listed in Genesis 5 surpassed 1,000 years. ↩

  2. Jeanne Calment reportedly lived to 122 years old, but a study published in 2018 demonstrates that she was almost certainly a fraud Nikolay Zak, “Jeanne Calment: The Secret of Longevity,” December 2018. Available at https://www.researchgate.net/publication/329773795_Jeanne_Calment_the_secret_of_longevity. Zak makes a very strong case that Jeanne died in 1934 at the age of 58, and her daughter Yvonne assumed her identity to avoid France’s steep inheritance tax that the family had recently paid when Jeanne’s father passed away a couple of years earlier. Then Yvonne lived until her death in 1997 at the age of 98, but because she had assumed her mother’s identity, she claimed to have been 122 at the time. ↩

  3. As mentioned in this paragraph, I have written extensively on this topic. Interested readers are encouraged to pick up a copy of my book, Fallen: The Sons of God and the Nephilim. Before I published this book, I completed and defended my Th.M. thesis on this passage. You can also check out a series of posts I published in 2011, beginning with this one. Readers are free to disagree with my conclusions on the subject, but do not try to turn the comments section of this article into a debate over the sons of God and the Nephilim. Use one of the articles in my series on that topic for such a discussion, but do not simply repeat some of the same arguments that I have already addressed multiple times or I will probably not approve the comment since there is no need to spend time debating the same issues the I have already covered. ↩