Reflection No. 1304 of 4322
Context · Reflection
Genesis 5:1-5: a reflection
1This is the book of the generations of Adam. In the day that God created man, he made him in God’s likeness. 2He created them male and female, and blessed them. On the day they were created, he named them Adam. 3Adam lived one hundred thirty years, and became the father of a son in his own likeness, after his image, and named him Seth. 4The days of Adam after he became the father of Seth were eight hundred years, and he became the father of other sons and daughters. 5All the days that Adam lived were nine hundred thirty years, then he died.
This chapter opens the long genealogy from Adam onward, and it begins by recalling that God made humanity in his own likeness. Then it records Adam's long life, and ends with three sobering words: and he died. However long Adam lived, and the years given are many, his life ended the same way every life since has ended: he died. And as the chapter continues, the same refrain sounds again and again over each name: and he died.
Notice that steady, sober refrain: and he died. The long lives recorded here all come, in the end, to the same conclusion. Since the fall, death has been the common lot of all humanity; no length of years, no achievement, no distinction changes the ending. Every life, however long, comes at last to and he died. It is the reality the chapter will not let us forget, the shadow that falls across every human life.
That is a truth we prefer to avoid, but wisdom faces it. We can live as though death were something that happens to others, or belongs to a distant future we need not think about; but the refrain of this chapter reminds us that death comes to all, and to us. Facing our mortality honestly is not morbid; it is the beginning of wisdom, of living our days in light of their end and turning to God while we can. And for those who are God's, there is hope beyond the refrain: for Christ has conquered death, and in him, and he died is not the final word. Face your mortality honestly, live your days in light of their end, and take hold of the hope that, in Christ, death does not have the last word over those who are his.
Lord, this chapter recalls that you made us in your likeness, and then records life after life ending with the same sober refrain: and he died. Help me face that truth honestly. Since the fall, death has been the common lot of all humanity; no length of years or achievement changes the ending, and it will come to me too. I can live as though death happened only to others, or belonged to a distant future I need not think about; but this refrain reminds me that death comes to all. Help me face my mortality honestly, not morbidly, and to live my days in light of their end, turning to you while I can. And thank you that for those who are yours, there is hope beyond the refrain: for Christ has conquered death, and in him, and he died is not the final word. Help me take hold of that hope, and live as one for whom death does not have the last word, because of Christ.