In Genesis 25:8 we
read: “Abraham breathed his last and died at good old age, an old man full of
years.” Abraham is the first person in the Bible to be described as having
obtained fullness of age. However, if the lifespans in Gen 5 and 11 are
literal, this passage is bizarre because Abraham’s great, great, great, great
grandfather Eber was still alive and kicking at Abraham’s death and even
outlived him at 464 years (Gen 11:14-17). In fact, Abraham, who died in “good
old age full of years” still had a spry great, great, great, great, great,
great, great grandfather still living named Sheliah, along with his grandfather
Shem (Gen 11:10-14).
Second is a related
point. If literal, these genealogies imply every one of the patriarchs born
back in Noah lived at the same time as Abraham! This is strange because the
Bible otherwise appears to treat these men like they were long dead by this
time. Joshua 24:2 and 14-15 speaks of Abraham’s “ancestors” have lived “long
ago” (מעולם and claims they
worshiped foreign gods. This would be an odd way of describing Abraham’s
contemporaries, and it seems unlikely that paganism would have crept into Noah’s
family line while survivors of the flood like Noah and his son Shem were still
alive.
Indeed, except for
Jacob blessing Joseph’s sons, none of the patriarchs is ever recorded as having
related to his grandchildren. This isn’t a mere weak argument from silence. The
whole point of patriarchal tribal culture is that the oldest surviving male
ancestors should have still been the revered rulers and chief consultants of
their family lines. Did no one really live with, visit, care for, or see fit to
consult their ancestor so wise and venerable as Noah? Jacob founded the nation of
Israel. Why do we never see him consulting with or meeting Abraham to whom the
promise of this nation was once given? Why does Eber never appear in the Abrahamic
narratives about the formation of the Hebrew people considering they were named
after him? Where were any of these patriarchs at the rape of Dinah tragedy, or
the supposed death of Joseph and the later famine in that story?
Third, the call of
Abraham story gives us a more concrete example. If you remember, the story goes
in Genesis 18 that Abraham is sitting in front of his tent in the heat of the
day by the trees of Mamre, and three mysterious visitors come to him with a
message from God. They tell him in a year he will bear a son. Abraham was
incredulous. As Gen 18:11 says, “Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in
years. The way of women had ceased to be with Sarah.” Abraham responded (17:17):
“Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a
child at the age of ninety?” Sarah, who overheard this conversation on
the other side of the tent even laughs at the absurdity of it. “Then the Lord
said to Abraham, ‘Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now
that I am old?’ Is anything too difficult for the Lord? I will return to you at
the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.’” So, of course, a
year passes and this miracle does come true. Sarah names the baby Isaac, meaning
laughter in Hebrew—a testament of the miraculous power of God visited to her in
her old age!
Here's the problem:
If the numbers given in the Genesis 5 and 11 genealogies are literal, this wasn’t
actually a miracle. Why not? Because Abraham’s own dad, Terah, fathered either
Abraham or one of his brothers at 130 years old (Gen 11:32, 12:4, Acts 7:4).
The Bible never hints that this birth was a miracle. In fact, not only his
father but Abraham’s own grandson Jacob fathered multiple children between the
ages of 84 and 105 (this calculation is derived by noting that Benjamin was
born after the Dineh incident at Shechem [Gen 34:16-20])!
So why is that one of
the most central legends in the Torah, about the very formation of the Hebrew
people, makes such a big deal about the miracle of Abraham and Sarah having a
son of the ages of 90 and 100 if their relatives both after and immediately
before them had children at older ages? A literal interpretation detracts from
the whole point of the birth of Isaac story as a miracle.
This issue, that 90
and 100 in Abraham’s day were considered “very old” and too old to have
children is the basis for a fourth example. If you do some simple addition,
Abraham’s grandson Jacob not only fathered children as late as 105, but he was
apparently a virgin until 77 years old when he fell in love with Rachel and was
up for 7 years of labor to pursue a sexual relationship with her. That means he
waited until age 84 before he started fathering 12 kids in a mere 7 years.
We know something of ancient
marriage in the ancient Near East. In the first millennium, at least, it has
been estimated that Mesopotamian women typically married between 14 and 20, and
men between 26 and 32 (Martha T. Roth, “Age at Marriage and the Household: A
Study of Neo-Babylonian and Neo-Assyrian Forms,” Comparative Studies in
Society and History 29.4 [1987], 747). In the patriarchal period, Dinah must
have been raped around it at least 13 or 14, and Judah can be calculated as
marrying at 18 or 19. In light of the Abraham narrative, and what we know about
ancient marriage, the Jacob timeline seems incongruent on multiple levels if
taken literally.
A similar fifth
example of how the lifespans seem intentionally exaggerated when considered in
light of their associated narratives can be observed with Isaac. If you
remember the stolen blessing story of Jacob and Esau, the whole motive for why
Isaac wants to bless Esau is that he was supposedly near death. (27:2-4): “Behold
I am old; I do not know the day of my death . . . Bring me some food . . . that
I may bless you before I die.” Esau then reiterates in verse 41, “The days of mourning
for my father are approaching.” This entire story is based around how Isaac is
so old that he can’t even see well enough to tell his sons apart. What is the
problem with this? Chronology places Isaac at 137 years old when this story
takes place. However, Gen 35:28-9 claims he died at 180—43 years later. Was Esau
an old man on the verge of death or not? A literal gap of 43 years seems to
create an incongruence in the story.
The problems produced
by a literal interpretation of the patriarchal lifespans in Genesis are
considerable. It implies all the patriarchs would have been contemporaries of
Abraham, a claim that the rest of the Bible doesn’t seem to support, and it
creates tension with Abraham’s claimed “good old age, full of years.” It
inexplicably nullifies the miraculousness of the birth of Isaac story central
to the call of Abraham. Additionally, the claim that 90 and 100 were too old to
have kids in Abraham’s day doesn’t cohere with Jacob waiting until 77 to marry
and fathering 12 kids in 7 years starting at ages 84-105. A literal
interpretation also has Isaac astonishingly outliving his deathbed by 43 years.
(Ben Stanhope, (Mis)Interpreting Genesis: How the Creation Museum
Misunderstands the Ancient Near Eastern Context of the Bible [Scarab Press,
2020], 174-77; for a discussion of the symbolic nature of the ages of the patriarchs
in Genesis, see pp. 177-85. On D&C 107, see D&C
107 and the longevity of the Patriarchs)
