Saturday, July 5, 2025

Gatekeeping Salvation

Galatians 5:11 talks about "the scandal of the Cross." The Cross of Christ is offensive for many reasons, not least is the shame crucifixion carried in the ancient world. The Son of God put to open shame is offensive, scandalizing.

Galatians 6:12–14 sheds some light on another sense of scandal. It is the natural desire of all of us to "boast in [our] flesh," and the Cross of Christ attacks that at its root. "[F]ar be it from me to boast save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ," stands in contrast to boasting in the flesh. The latter attempts to find something in ourselves for God, the former sees that Christ is our only righteousness.

That's worth meditation. It's far easier for fallen men and women to say "Christ is my righteousness" than it is for us to say "Christ is my only righteousness." The first leaves a small opening for us to add our own righteousnesses to Him. The second is an acknowledgement that nothing I can do, and nothing in me, can add anything to what Christ has done for me. His death is my only hope for salvation before God, and there is nothing I can do that can add to that.

As far as I know, every Protestant claims to condemn the idea of an act of supererogation. But that idea seems to lurk just below the surface in our hearts. We all secretly cherish the belief that there's something we can do that will just sort of round out the righteousness of God by faith (Romans 3:21–22). 

We can't quite accept that God justifies the one who does not work, but believes (Romans 4:5). We all want to add some sort of qualifier to that statement. And we betray ourselves when we act as a sort of gatekeeper of salvation: when we say something like, "I just don't see that he can be saved and act like that."

What we're really saying is, "I wouldn't ever do that!"  It's the same thing the Pharisees did (Luke 18:9). 

As far as I can tell, "God be merciful to me, a sinner!" (Luke 18:9–14) is one prayer He always answers (Romans 10:8–13). 


Still, there is the question of how we should think about someone who makes some sort of profession of faith and yet appears to live in sin. The Pharisaic approach is clearly wrong, but there is some Scriptural support for the notion that a life of continued sin indicates a lack of new birth. On the other hand, Scripture contemplates a true believer who doesn't act like one. We should consider both of these.


1 John 3:8–10 is one of the tests Scripture gives: whoever has been born of God does not practice sin. Well, that seems pretty straightforward, but it raises some questions. Is sinning the same thing as practicing sin? In other words, does this mean that anyone who sins is not born of God? Or does it mean something like, anyone who sins deliberately is not born of God? Or does it mean something like, anyone who lives in long-term, unrepentant sin is not born of God? All three of these answers will give us some difficulty.

First, there is no doubt that true believers sin, and 1 John addresses that directly (1 John 1:7–2:2). It's clear from 1 John 1:7 that the one walking in the light still needs cleansing from sin. It's clear that Christ Jesus is our advocate if we sin (1 John 2:2). So no, the idea that a true believer lives in sinless perfection is contradicted in 1 John.

Second, the distinction between "deliberate" and "unintentional" sin in Scripture is real. This is the main difference between the sin offering in Leviticus 4:1ff and the trespass offering in Leviticus 5:1ff. The sin offering is for sins of inadvertence, the trespass offering is for deliberate sins, like defrauding one's neighbor, or giving false testimony (Leviticus 6:1ff). So that's a real thing.

But to make 1 John 3:8ff about inadvertent sin is to ignore passages like 1 Corinthians 5:1ff. Do we really want to say the man and woman committing incest in Corinth were doing it inadvertently? Like, they didn't notice it at the time? But at least the man was repentant after the fact (2 Corinthians 7:8ff). Do we really think he was born of God in the interval between 1 Corinthians 5 and 2 Corinthians 7?  We might look at Galatians 2:11ff too: was Peter not yet regenerated when he denied the Gospel by his actions towards the Gentiles?

So no, 1 John 3:8ff is not about deliberate sins as opposed to unintentional sins.       

Third, making 1 John 3:8ff about the "practise" of sin gives us some difficulty with Romans 7:14–21. There we have the positive statement that a man who is regenerated practices sin, even though he abhors it. In fact, "practise" is used five times in that passage: four times in the context of practicing sin, once in the context of practicing righteousness.

Romans 7:14ff gives us some context to help us understand 1 John 3:8ff. It's not that the true believer doesn't sin, nor that the true believer doesn't intentionally sin, nor even that the true believer can't go on in a sinful way for a very long time, practicing sin. The big question is, does he or she abhor it? Does that person look at his or her actions, see they don't measure up, and then just shrug and go on? Or does that person struggle with sin?

(As an aside, I do not take the more Reformed position that Romans 7:7ff describes what we might call the "normal Christian life." I think Darby is fundamentally correct in his understanding that Romans 7:5–6 describes a transition from "when we were in the flesh" (v. 5) to "now we are clear from the law" (v. 6). And I agree that Romans 7:7ff is the fuller description of "when we were in the flesh," while Romans 8:1ff is the fuller description of "now we are clear from the law." So yes, I agree with Darby that Romans 7:7ff is not normal Christianity. But I would be quick to add the Romans 8:13 warns us that it's always possible to end up back in that same place, even once we have experienced the deliverance of Romans 8.)


So while we might look at 1 John 3 and see in it a simple test, there are other passages to consider. True believers can certainly "practise" sin, Romans 7 is explicit. True believers can deliberately sin, Galatians 2 makes that clear. True believers can fall into sin in their daily walk, 1 John 1 contemplates this exact scenario. 

While I would caution against glibly accepting that anyone who is living in [apparently] unrepentant sin is a believer, I would also say that 1 John 3:8ff is no call to our being gatekeepers of salvation.


Bear in mind, too, there might be any number of people looking at you and thinking the same thing. 

This probably ties in more with the notion of inadvertent sin, but it's worth a mention here. Let me start with an example: I am convinced that it's sin to eat blood. It is forbidden several places in Scripture (Genesis 9:1ff, Leviticus 17:10ff, Acts 15:19–20). It is forbidden to Noah and his sons (which certainly includes us), to Israel under the Law, and to Gentile believers in the Church. There are several Christian groups who don't seem to have a problem with eating blood, as evidenced by the fact that blood pudding, black pudding, and blood sausage survive still in Christendom. So all those Presbyterians and Anglicans who eat black pudding – as far as I can tell – are living in inadvertent sin. In fact, they're practicing that sin. But you don't see me telling them they're unregenerate. And I don't believe that means they're unregenerate, even though I am fully convinced they are continuing in sin.

My point, of course, is that every one who sets him or herself up as a gatekeeper of salvation brings condemnation on him- or herself. Do you see something in someone else's life that makes you certain they're not born again? Don't be blind to the fact that there's probably something in your life that makes someone else certain you're not regenerate either.

And no, I am not saying we should all just say, "I'm OK, you're OK." That's not at all my point.

My point is that when our first reaction to seeing sin in someone's life is to question their justification, regeneration, or salvation, then we are acting in practical Pharisaism. We are deceiving ourselves about our own sinfulness. We are forgetting how lost we really are. We are presuming on God's grace, while (at least mentally) denying that He can have that same grace on someone else.








Saturday, May 17, 2025

Authorities

I've been thinking a lot about authority this year, which has led to contemplating Biblicism and Systematic Theology. I'm sharing some (probably incomplete) thoughts here, at least partly so I can refer to them later. 

Rodger has reminded me that everyone develops some sort of systematic theology. We can't help it: God has made us culture-creating people, and theology is part of that. That's probably an important fact to keep in mind. Whether you read it in a book or develop it as you read through the Scriptures, you will end up with some kind of systematic theology. And to be honest, the theology you read in a book is likely much better thought out than the one you develop yourself.

On the other hand, if God had wanted to give us a systematic theology, He could have. But He did not. He gave us the scriptures: a collection of texts from several different writers, in different languages, written at different times and in different styles and of different genres. What God gave us does contain some doctrinal text, but that is a very small minority of the total words He gave us. The scriptures are a collection of poetry, history, narrative (which includes history, but certainly isn't all history), prophecy (some of which is pretty plain, some is very obscure), personal letters, and even a love song. We must not approach God's word with the idea that it's primarily a legal text, or a doctrinal text, or even a history text. It contains all of those things, but it's not merely any of them.

This, to me, is a real issue with our developing theologies: so many Christians talk like the scripture is a collection of raw ingredients whose purpose is to be turned into a final product. As though their theologies are somehow an improved form of the words God has spoken. Let's say right now that the word of God is of infinitely more value that any understanding of it you or I might have (Proverbs 30:5–6). 

We seem incapable of not allowing our theologies to displace Scripture in our own minds. I've mentioned before that "helpful tool" becomes "interpretative framework" and then "replacement for Scripture" very quickly. There is, I'm sure, an application of "leaning on our own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5–6) in that. 

Scripture speaks very highly of the fear of the Lord. It is the beginning of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7), the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10), and even the summation of wisdom (Job 28:28). The Lord speaks highly of the man "who trembles at my word" (Isaiah 66:1–5). The Lord Jesus accused the Pharisees of nullifying the word of God by "the traditions of men" (Matthew 15:3–9; Mark 7:1–13).  I have seen that play out many times.

I was talking to a man a few years ago who was telling me about a church where the pastor was an excellent Bible teacher, but they fall into error because "they didn't have the Creeds." Whatever he meant to say, what he actually said was the the Creeds are capable of protecting us from error where God's own words are not. Whether or not saying something like that is actual sin, it certainly is not the fear of the Lord. 

Many years ago, someone told me that he was quite comfortable disallowing speaking in tongues in the church despite 1 Corinthians 14:39. He said the context of 1 Corinthians 14 is clearly at the start of the present dispensation, and we are past the point of the Lord working through those things. That may or may not be true, but it's indisputable that 1 Corinthians 14:39 commands not to forbid speaking in tongues. I cannot see his position as anything other than deliberate disobedience to the word of God. 

I've noticed a tendency to refer to the parable of the Sower as the "parable of the soils."  I mentioned this before. While we don't want to make someone a transgressor for a word, the fact is that the Lord Jesus told many parables, and the parable of the sower is the only one He named. So if we want to refer to the parable of the Prodigal Son as "the parable of the Forgiving Father," we're really just replacing one man-made name with another. But "the parable of the Sower" is the title Christ Himself gave to that particular story. To give it another name – even for what seems like a good reason – implies the Lord got the name wrong when He named it. Again, this might not be actual sin, but it's not the fear of the Lord.

Those three examples are from my own experience, and they're from people with widely varying theologies. So it's not like there's a problem with "their" theology but not "ours." Every theology becomes an excuse for us to ignore the words God has spoken and replace them with our own. It seems to me there's no path to Pharisaism as direct as being "well taught" in theology.

And in case I'm not being clear, the issue isn't the theology per se, but our own hearts. We have such a desperate need to move ourselves into the center that we'll replace God's words with our own at the slightest excuse. The problem isn't "Calvinism" or "Arminianism" or "Dispensationalism" or any other "-ism." The problem is that we don't want to bow to God's word. Any theology we can erect between ourselves and His words can be used as a way to hide from God.

It's probably not the worst idea to read through the Gospels, putting ourselves in the Pharisees' place. It might be the most accurate way to read them, and it might open our eyes a bit.


Now, because I have a friend who objects to Biblicism on the grounds that it's easy for it to become proof-texting, I'll just add this... To the extent that I advocate Biblicism (that is, taking the word of God as not merely infallible but also sufficient), I am doing so with the assumption that we bow to the whole word of God. Using Biblicism as an excuse to be lazy about theology is sin too. Scripture doesn't excuse slothfulness, especially not when it comes to the Scriptures.  If the first eight chapters of Proverbs convince us of nothing else, it ought to make us certain that the Scriptures demand work. 

Part of the temptation to replace Scripture with theology is that it's a lot less work. 


I absolutely encourage reading other books in addition to the Bible. I cannot overstate how much reading Darby and Newell and Nee and Kelly (and others too!) has helped me. The effort to find, acquire, and read those books was effort well spent. But I must not allow myself to put them into the place of God. The book God gave is perfect, the books Darby wrote are not. 

And even if they were – even if you were somehow able to find the perfect theology textbook – it would only address one part of what God has given. This is the point I started with: God could have given us a systematic theology text, but He did not. He knows what we are, and He gave us what we need. What we need is a collection of books written over several centuries by several different people: some of it poetry, some of it prose. When we try boil that book down, we always produce something less. 





Friday, April 18, 2025

Timelines

A friend looked me in the eye a while back and asked, "Are you a young-earth creationist?" I told him I believe in a literal six-day creation, but am not so convinced about the "young earth" part. That opened a whole can of worms. 

In the conversation that followed, I mentioned I had once made a spreadsheet compiling the birth dates and ages from the genealogies in Genesis 5 and Genesis 11 to create a chronology. It occurred to me that was a long time ago, so I spent a few hours to recreate it that evening.

And then things got out of hand.

For the last few weeks, I have found myself obsessed with the genealogies in Genesis 5 and 11. I filled a spreadsheet with dates and inferred ages from Adam through Joseph, I have made some timeline charts with multiple scenarios based on the text. I have even read some commentary on it, although I've endeavored to stick to the text without leaning too hard on those commentaries.

I am not exaggerating when  I say I have lost sleep over this.

Face-Value Timeline

Taken at face value, there are some fascinating discoveries in those genealogies.  The young earth position takes those genealogies as a working chronology. My summary looks like this:


Age of FatherBorn (AC)AgeDied (AC)Verse
Adam
0930930Genesis 5:3–5
Seth1301309121042Genesis 5:6–8
Enosh1052359051140Genesis 5:9–11
Kenan903259101235Genesis 5:12–14
Mahalalel703958301225Genesis 5:15–17
Jared654609621422Genesis 5:18–20
Enoch162622365987Genesis 5:21–24
Methuselah656879691656Genesis 5:25–27
Lamech1878747771651Genesis 5:28–31
Noah18210569502006Genesis 5:32–9:28
Shem50215586002158Genesis 11:10
Arpachshad10016584382096Genesis 11:12–13
Shelah3516934332126Genesis 11:14–15
Eber3017234642187Genesis 11:16–17
Peleg3417572391996Genesis 11:18–19
Reu3017872392026Genesis 11:20–21
Serug3218192302049Genesis 11:22–23
Nahor3018491481997Genesis 11:24–25
Terah2918782052083Genesis 11:26–32
Abram7019481752123Genesis 25:1–6
Isaac10020481802228Genesis 21:1–7; 35:28
Jacob6021081472255Genesis 25:26; 47:28
Joseph
22001102310Genesis 41:46 ; 50:26

There are some things to note here. First, we're reading each date as though it were a complete year. It's not hard to imagine that Seth was born near the end of Adam's 130th year, or that Enoch was translated at the start of his 365th year. Those would throw the chronologies off in a rounding error that would accumulate so that the Flood is in 1656 at face value, but could have been several years earlier or later, depending on the accumulation of rounding errors.

Second, Shem's age has been corrected in this table. Genesis 5:32 says that Noah was 500 years old and became the father of Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Then Genesis 7:6 tells us Noah was 600 years old when the Flood came. Then Genesis 11:10 tells us that Shem became the father of Arphachshad two years after the Flood, when he was 100 years old. That makes Shem 98 when the Flood came, born when Noah was 502. The obvious explanation is that Shem was a younger son, not the oldest.

Third, the genealogy gets hard after Isaac. Genesis 25:26 tells us Isaac was 60 years old when Esau and Jacob were born, but no ages are given for Jacob's sons. We know Joseph stood before Pharaoh when he was 30 years old (Genesis 41:46). We know there were seven years of plenty (Genesis 41:47) and Joseph sent for Jacob to join him in Egypt after two years of famine, while there were five years of famine remaining (Genesis 45:6). So Joseph was 39 years old when he sent for Jacob. Jacob met Pharaoh at 130 years old (Genesis 47:9). So if we assume the move to Egypt happened fairly quickly, then Jacob was 130 years old when Joseph was 39 years old, meaning Joseph was born when Jacob was 91 years old. I left that out of the table above, because it's not explicitly given in Scripture.

It's noteworthy that in this timeline, Abram leaves Haran less than 400 years after the Flood, and only 17 years after Noah dies. In fact, Abraham dies before Shem.

 

William Kelly's Revision

But this face-value chronology gives us trouble in Acts 7:4, where Stephen tells us Abram left Haran after his father died. Terah became the father of Abram, Nahor, and Haran when he was 70 years old (Genesis 11:26) and Abram left Haran when he was 75 years old (Genesis 12:4). If we take those two numbers together, then Abram leaves Haran when Terah is 145 years old, a full 60 years before Terah dies.

In the Q & A Section of Bible Treasury, William Kelly addresses the age of Terah when Abram leaves Haran by asserting that Abram was likely Terah's youngest son. If Abram's eldest brother was born when Terah was 70, and Abram himself was born when Terah was 130, then Acts 7:4 and Genesis 12:4 agree.

(Kelly doesn't mention Romans 4:19 or Hebrews 11:12 in connection with this, which is unfortunate. If Abram was born when his father was 130 years old, then he would not expect to be too old to have Isaac when he was only 100 years old. But both Romans and Hebrews emphasize his age as being "as good as dead."  So I'm not convinced Kelly's explanation is the best: it seems to me a better explanation might be that there is an unnamed generation between Terah and Abram, although I recognize that introduces difficulties for the following verses.)

If we adjust the timeline to have Abram leave Haran when Terah dies, all the dates after that adjust by about 60 years.


Age of FatherBorn (AC)AgeDied (AC)Verse
Adam
0930930Genesis 5:3–5
Seth1301309121042Genesis 5:6–8
Enosh1052359051140Genesis 5:9–11
Kenan903259101235Genesis 5:12–14
Mahalalel703958301225Genesis 5:15–17
Jared654609621422Genesis 5:18–20
Enoch162622365987Genesis 5:21–24
Methuselah656879691656Genesis 5:25–27
Lamech1878747771651Genesis 5:28–31
Noah18210569502006Genesis 5:32–9:28
Shem50215586002158Genesis 11:10
Arpachshad10016584382096Genesis 11:12–13
Shelah3516934332126Genesis 11:14–15
Eber3017234642187Genesis 11:16–17
Peleg3417572391996Genesis 11:18–19
Reu3017872392026Genesis 11:20–21
Serug3218192302049Genesis 11:22–23
Nahor3018491481997Genesis 11:24–25
Terah2918782052083Genesis 11:26–32
Abram13020081752183Genesis 25:1–6
Isaac10021081802288Genesis 21:1–7; 35:28
Jacob6021681472315Genesis 25:26; 47:28
Joseph9122591102369Genesis 41:46 ; 50:26

Now we have Abram's birth two years after Noah dies, and Abraham's death 26 years after Shem's. The other patriarchs are all adjusted to about 60 years later, so Isaac is now 50 years old when Shem dies, instead of 110.

I put both these variations into a chart to help visualize the timeline, you can download a PDF.

 


 

Tower of Babel and Other Considerations

Now, I still lean to an old(er) earth. I realize the young earth view works so much better in Genesis 5 and the second half of Genesis 11, but there are other considerations. Let's take Genesis 11:1–9 for example. When is the Tower of Babel? On the chart, I put it half-way through Peleg's life based on Genesis 10:25. But that's only a guess, and possibly a very bad one. It would make more sense for "in his days" to refer to his father Eber, not to Peleg himself. Regardless, Isaac is an old man before Eber dies. That would put Babel in very recent memory during the times of the patriarchs.

Babel couldn't have happened immediately after the Flood, because only eight people survived (1 Peter 3:20). It must have happened long enough after the Flood that there was an available workforce to build the tower. And there must have been enough people that when they were divided into languages, it wasn't only a few people in each language: there were enough to build nations. That suggests a long time – at least several generations – after the Flood.

But we have to place Babel long enough before Abram that the newly-formed Chaldee nation had time to have built cities (Ur and Haran at a minimum) and formed their pagan religions. We know Terah and Abram worshiped idols in Ur  (Genesis 24:1ff): pagan religions were fully formed by Abram's time.

And to further complicate matters: even if we place Abram's birth at two years after Noah's death (William Kelly's date), then Shem is alive well into Isaac's life. That means the pagan societies in Ur, Canaan, and Egypt were built while there were still two people (Noah and Shem) who were personally on the Ark. And it's not like they were the two old men down the street: they were the direct ancestors of the idolaters. 

Again, if we take Kelly's view on the date of Abram's birth, then we have at most 350 years (Noah's death) + 2 years (Abram's birth) + 75 years (Abram's age when he leaves Haran) = 427 years between the Flood and Abram leaving Haran. That's not a lot of time to fit in Babel, the rise of pagan religions, and the building of Ur, Canaan, and Egypt.

But here's the real question: was Noah involved in Babel? Was Shem?  

 

So we come back to my earlier claim: the young earth view works very well when we're considering genealogies, but it doesn't give a lot of room for the world that the non-genealogical passages describe. Genesis 12ff describe a world that has forgotten the Flood, forgotten God, and forgotten Babel. That's difficult to imagine when there are two eye witnesses still alive, and the world's population is largely (in the case of Shem) and entirely (in the case of Noah) descended from them.

I'll point out here that William Shakespeare died a little over 400 years ago, and we still know many, many details of his life. It seems the Flood would have left a memory at least as significant as Shakespeare. When we take into consideration the average lifespan from Arphachshad to Terah is more than 250 years, that just doesn't seem reasonable.

 

Interestingly, Genesis 5 and 11 give ten generations from Adam to Noah, and ten from Noah to Abram. That reminds me of Matthew 1:17.  No one disputes that Matthew skips several names in that genealogy in order to make a point (although I don't know what the point is). I suspect there is something similar going on in the Genesis genealogies. That would suggest the that old(er) earth view implies a purpose in the genealogies over and above history.

 

Doctrinal Implications

But let's also acknowledge the young earth view isn't impossible. It might align more closely with Romans 1 than the old earth idea. They forgot God because they really didn't want to remember Him. 

I don't like exposition based on doctrine: that seems pretty common, but it strikes me as pretty dodgy.  That being said... if I were a preacher, I might find the young earth view irresistible in light of the Pauline epistles. The idea that it takes the human race less than 450 years to forget God, build pagan religions, and do their best to stamp out the memories of the Flood is just too good. Add in Noah's and Shem's actual presence, and you have the world of Genesis 12ff a product of deliberate rebellion against God. That works so well with Romans 1:18ff, it might be impossible to ignore.

Another doctrinal bonus of the young earth view is that God wastes no time in calling Abram. In other words, God moves pretty directly from saving Noah to saving Abram: He's not ignoring the human race for generations at a time. That's not as compelling an argument as it might seem, because there have always been Jobs and Mechizideks and Jethros. Just because the Scripture focuses on the line of Shem, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob doesn't mean there aren't other true believers out there. But it does appeal.

And if I were to allow my speculations absolutely free reign, I might go so far as to suggest (only suggest, mind you) a connection between Melchizidek and Shem. That might be too juicy to let pass.

On the other hand, I find the old earth view attractive because of all the hints in Genesis that there's a lot more going on there. Who were the Nephilim? Was there a pre-Edenic creation? We need to be careful around these questions, it's possible to really mess up someone's faith with them. But just like the young earth view is attractive partly for the conclusions we can draw from it, the old earth view attracts me in part because a whole lot of wild possibility seems to be tied up in it. 

And yes, I recognize Scripture itself cautions us here (1 Timothy 1:4, 4:7, 6:4; Titus 1:14). Pretty much everyone who has ever dug into Genesis has been in danger of falling into what Paul calls "fable" and "myth" here. No matter which view you take, you are getting close to what the New Testament cautions against.

 

Conclusion

In the end, I like the old earth view better, because whenever I read Genesis 12ff, I keep wondering how the world Scripture describes could have arisen in such short time. I feel like Genesis 12ff is describing a world that comes much more than ten generations after the Flood. But it's not something I'm willing to be dogmatic about. The fact is that the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness could very easily have packed much more in the 367 years (or 427 years, if we take Kelly's explanation) between the Flood and Abram than we expect. It's not even close to impossible.

One point Dennis Prager makes (repeatedly) in his commentary on Genesis is that the Bible's goal isn't to give us a detailed history, it's to teach wisdom. Prager is Jewish, so he has slightly different starting assumptions. But we could take his quote and change it a bit to say that Genesis isn't interested in history, it's interested in Christ. History matters, but only as a means to an end. 

So there is a tension here: we need to read the Word of God carefully, and try to really see what it's saying. At the same time, we need to be careful we don't lose sight of the real point, which is the revelation of God to man. Ultimately, that's in Jesus Christ (Hebrews 1:1–4). 

If we take the genealogies in Genesis as a chronology, then we can see some glaring evidence of our need of God in how quickly we turned from Him following the Flood.

If we don't see those genealogies as a chronology, then we have to conclude they are curated in order to drive home the point God is making in Genesis. From the very start, He has been interested in honoring His Son, and revealing God in Him. As a result, even something as simple as a genealogy is presented to drive that home.