Seven Points on The Careful Justice of Hell

Our age doesn’t naturally resonate with the justice of an eternal hell. Whether in the West or here in Central Asia, the spirit of the age means that the default for most is that hell feels unjust. This hasn’t always been the case. There are periods of history (e.g. the Middle Ages) as well as people groups throughout the history of the world for whom an eternal hell resonated and made all the sense in the world. But for most of us now, something has changed. This particular part of God’s reality has been so successfully suppressed in our cultures and consciences that even the most faithful believers struggle to feel that hell is just, even if they affirm that it is so in their minds and words.

This is certainly true of me. And it has been true for countless Central Asian friends of mine over the years. In this, pressing into the details and nuances of what has been revealed about hell has been helpful. In particular, this effort has helped me to both believe and feel more deeply that the justice of hell is a fitting, careful justice. I, like many, am tempted to feel that an eternal hell is a careless kind of ‘justice,’ a broad-brushed thing involving so much eternal collateral damage. This couldn’t be further from the truth.

Deuteronomy 29:29 says that, “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever.” There is much about hell that has not been revealed. We trust in the just and loving character of God for those (for now) unanswerable questions. But when it comes to what has been revealed, here we should lean in and pay attention to what the scriptures are saying or hinting at regarding the reality of hell. Here are seven of these points that I find myself often coming back to in conversations about eternal judgment.

First, God’s punishment for sin has been the same from the beginning and will be the same until the end of history. The law laid down in Eden still holds true. Sin deserves death, both physical death and eternal death in hell (Gen 2:17, Rom 6:23). God will justly uphold this law for every human being ever created. Their sin will be justly paid for with death. This will be either their own deaths or, for believers, the death of the only acceptable substitute – Jesus Christ, the lamb of God. God justly applies this law to every single person, with no exceptions. He is perfectly consistent in this.

Second, every human being is heading to hell because they have personally suppressed the light they were given. Romans 1-3 is clear. The entire human race has suppressed the light of God they have – whether this was the revealed, written word of God or merely the truths written on their conscience and visible in nature – that there is a God who is deserving of true worship. We have all suppressed this light and in its place turned to idolatry. This is universal.

Some shepherd boys recently asked me if I was a Muslim or a kafir, an infidel. I was a little taken aback by the sharpness of their question and simply told them I was a Christian, but later I thought more about how I should have answered. Because we have all equally suppressed whatever light of God we were given and in this willingly become his enemies, we are all, in fact, kafirs – every single one of us. This is square one, a good starting point for understanding how isolated or even seemingly good people could still deserve to go to hell.

Third, hell will justly reflect the degree of light which we have rejected. Even though everyone who does not believe will end up in hell, hell will not be the same for everyone. While what has been revealed tells us it will be terrible for all, it also tells us that hell will be worse for some than others. Jesus reveals this when he speaks of the Galilean towns that did not repent when they had the opportunity to see the ministry of the Son of God face to face (Matt 11:20-24). They had access to a stunning degree of God’s light, yet they rejected it. Because of this, their judgment will be worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah, who only had access to a much smaller degree of God’s light. Dante is not completely off in suggesting that there are levels of hell. While we don’t know the details, Jesus tells us that God’s justice will carefully reflect the degree of access someone had to God’s light. More light rejected equals more judgment in eternity.

We instinctively feel that the man on the island is in a different situation than the one who grows up in a Christian family and rejects the gospel. Even though both are condemned for rejecting the light, God’s careful justice also acknowledges the differences that are in fact there.

Fourth, there is no repentance in hell. We tend to assume that once someone goes to hell, their eyes are opened and they genuinely plead with God for forgiveness while God callously ignores their change of heart. But what is the evidence for this in the Bible? On the contrary, the Bible seems to show us that hell will be full of worldly sorrow, not godly sorrow. In the parable of Lazarus and the rich man (Luke 16:19-31), there is no sense that the rich man has been truly humbled. Yes, he doesn’t like being in pain and he doesn’t want his brothers to experience the pain of hell. But that is the very definition of worldly sorrow – I’m upset about my sin because its consequences make me feel bad, yet the grief doesn’t lead me to repentance (2 Cor 7:9-12). The rich man still pridefully presumes to order Lazarus (and even Abraham!) around, showing he has not experienced the godly sorrow of true repentance. The New Testament’s language of weeping and gnashing of teeth are images of worldly sorrow and regret (Matt 13:42). They are not images of repentance. No, those in hell will never repent, but continue sinning forever, which means they are day by day adding to the justice of their sentence.

Fifth, the eternal nature of hell is just given that sin is committed against an infinite God. Many of us have heard the helpful illustration that argues for the fitness of an eternal hell due to the fact that sin is an assault against an eternal and infinite God. Hit my brother, so it goes, he might hit me back. Hit my neighbor, he takes me to court. Hit the president, I may be shot by his bodyguards, or at least locked up for a long time. The position of the one assaulted justly warrants different consequences for the same kind of sin. We know that this is true in this world. So, what if we assault the king and creator of the universe, the infinite one? Then we receive eternal consequences befitting of that crime. This is another point that, together with the lack of repentance in hell, helps us begin to feel how the eternality of hell could be just.

Sixth, those in hell will not appear the same as they did here on earth, but will be radically changed into a form that reveals their true nature and fits their eternal environment. We struggle when we picture an unbelieving family member or friend in hell, and rightly so. This current age is a mixed one, when sin and a fallen nature mingle with the remnants of the image of God in every human being (Gen 9:6). Because of this broken yet still present image of God in every human, every person still alive is rightly deserving of dignity and compassion, even though a fallen sinner. But this mixed existence where sin and dignity intermingle is a temporary one. The time is coming when every one of us will be changed (1 Cor 15:52). This change will display our true natures, whose sons we really are – children of God or children of the devil. It seems as if this change happens fundamentally yet partially after death, and then fully in the future resurrection when both believers and unbelievers are raised with new bodies (Dan 12:2, Acts 2:15, Rev 20:5).

Have you ever thought about what kind of resurrected body God will be giving those who are raised into eternal condemnation? For resurrection always implies embodiment in the original languages of the Scriptures. It seems that, like he always does, God will be giving the inhabitants of hell bodies that are appropriate for their environment. Cherubim and seraphim are made for heaven’s throne room, so their bodies reflect this, covered in wings and eyes and fire appropriate for God’s presence. Fish with their scales and gills are made for the sea and birds with their wings for the air. Humans are made to be gardener-worshipper-kings, with fingers and faces that reflect this. This principle applied to hell means that whatever the resurrected bodies of those in hell look like, were we to see them we would affirm just how fit they are for their dwelling place. Our problem is that we project the bodies appropriate for this sphere onto another one, hell (and heaven for that matter), and this leaves us feeling that things aren’t quite right with this picture. Indeed, they aren’t right, for we are projecting bodies into environments they are not appropriate for, like stumbling upon a panda bear in the Sahara desert – it does not belong there.

C.S. Lewis in his sermon, The Weight of Glory, explores this future transformation that will see believers and nonbelievers become what they truly are:

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations… it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.

The scholar Anthony Hoekema also explores what happens with the image of God in believers in his book, Created in God’s Image. Hoekema shows from scripture how one day the image of God in believers will be not only be restored, but perfected in a way that outshines even what Adam had. Non posse pecare as Augustine put it, no longer able to sin. Glorified humanity will enter fully into “the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom 8:21).

We should remember, however, that believers and unbelievers are on inverse tracks all throughout the scriptures. What takes place among the redeemed in redemptive history is always reflected in the negative among the lost. This means that there is something that will happen to the lost that is the opposite of glorification – a terrifying thought. Likely, the broken image of God among the lost will on that day be completely lost, fully replaced by the image of Satan – and their spirits and bodies will show this, just as ours with their glorified image of God will shine like stars forever and ever. “For to the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away” (Matt 13:12).

If we were to able see unbelievers who are now in hell, or see them as they will be in whatever form future hell takes in the new heavens and new earth, then we would feel that they are exactly where they should be. Everything about them would reflect this, just as angels so clearly belong in heaven, just as everything about glorified believers will fit so perfectly with a new earth.

Seventh, our failure to feel the justice of hell reflects how little we understand the sinfulness of sin. Hell does not feel just to us because we are a people blind to how evil sin actually is. Or, in the case of believers, we are a people recovering from that blindness. Were God to truly open our eyes to see the darkness of the sin in our nature and in our actions, we would not struggle in the same way with the justice of hell. In fact, we’d probably struggle more with the scandalous nature of God’s forgiveness. It’s curious to me that former ages so much more exposed to suffering and oppression than we are struggled less with the concept of an eternal hell. It’s as if they had opportunity to see more clearly firsthand just how sinful sin actually is. And so their feelings about justice and hell were better aligned to what is revealed in God’s word.

Sin is so evil it doesn’t just make us unworthy to be in God’s presence. It makes us downright incompatible. Our very substance as sinful beings cannot draw near to the substance of God’s being without being exposed to eternal death. He is a holy, consuming fire, after all (Is 33:14, Heb 12:29). This is his nature. And his justice by its very nature will burn and afflict sin eternally. That is, unless we are changed to somehow be compatible with that fire.

This is no less than what is promised in the gospel, not only forgiveness but also transformation. We will be changed so that the holy fire of God’s nature will not afflict and torment us eternally, but will instead delight and empower us in its beauty (Is 33:15-17, 1 John 3:2). We will praise him forever because at last we will see hell clearly for the fitting and careful justice that it truly is.

Yes, one day we will also say about hell, “Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up forever and ever!” (Rev 19:3). When this occurs it will be because our eyes are finally fully open. We will see the careful and fitting justice of God. And we will know and feel that it is good.

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Why Does Jesus Say No One Is Good but God Alone?

“But Jesus himself says he is not God!” In Mark 10 and Luke 18, he says, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.'”

This is one of the more common arguments from the Bible that Muslims will try to use to disprove the divinity of Jesus. Not too long ago, a Muslim commenter on this blog said this very thing. If you spend any time at all doing evangelism with Muslims you are bound to hear this claim. So, how should a Christian respond?

I actually like it when my Muslim friends bring up this passage. This is because instead of Jesus denying his divinity here, I think there’s a case to be made that this passage is an example of the direct opposite – of Jesus in fact claiming to be God.

First, the context. Jesus is here responding to the rich young ruler who asks him what he must do to inherit eternal life. But this young man has begun his question by addressing Jesus as, “Good Teacher.” So, Jesus’ response to him is in two parts. First, he calls into question the way in which he addressed him. Then, he goes on to answer what is required for this man to inherit eternal life. Those of us familiar with this passage know that the young man goes on to claim that he’s kept all of the commandments that Jesus draws out of him. But then, when Jesus tells him to sell everything that he has, to give the funds to the poor, and to follow him, the young man goes away sad because he cannot bring himself to part with his wealth. You can read the passage for yourself here and here.

When I’m talking with my Central Asian friends about this, I will often respond first by saying. “Well, what’s going on here is that Jesus is a good teacher, and you of all people should know that the best teachers teach not only direct lessons, but also indirect lessons.”

Usually, this response is met with some level of furrowed brows. So, I’ll go on to explain.

“Here, in Central Asia, you use indirect communication all the time. In little things like saying yes to an offer of tea, you actually don’t say ‘Yes.’ Instead, you say, ‘No,’ then, ‘Don’t trouble yourself.’ Even more, you greatly value the ability of indirect communication to teach profound lessons. So, you should be able to appreciate when Jesus is using indirect communication to make a point – and not all of a sudden become like Westerners who insist something be communicated simply and directly in order to be understood.”

Here, I might remind them of a folk story of their people where a father has seven sons who are always fighting. Fed up, one day he lines his sons up and hands six of them a single stick. Then, one by one, he commands them to break the stick. Each of the six sons breaks his stick easily. But on the seventh son, the father hands him the bundle of broken sticks and commands him to break them. The seventh son cannot break the sticks, even though he tries with all his might. “Do you understand?” The father asks. Eventually, one son speaks up. “Yes, father. When we are divided and fighting amongst ourselves we will always be weak, easily broken. But if we will only be united, together, then no one will ever be able to break us.”

None of my Central Asian friends balk at this father’s indirect object lesson. Instead, if anything, they find the lesson to be even more profound given the subtlety and the indirect buildup. The point is to remind them that they have a category already for indirect teaching, they really respect it, and therefore it doesn’t follow that they should deny Jesus the right to teach in this way also.

Indeed, when it comes to Jesus’ encounter with the rich young ruler, this is exactly the kind of teaching method Jesus is employing in both parts of his responses. He is being an excellent Middle Eastern teacher, leveraging the subtlety, the double meanings, and the buildup for the lesson to have its maximum payoff.

First, he asks the young man why he calls him good, since “no one is good but God alone.” Notice here especially what Jesus does not say. Jesus does not say that he is not God. He simply asks the young man why he called him good. Then, he makes a theological statement. Only God is good. The direct, simplistic way to understand what Jesus is saying here would be that this young man made a mistake by calling him “Good Teacher.” But Jesus does not say that. He leaves it open – open to another possible meaning. That meaning is this – that Jesus in fact is good and, therefore, that he is God. The logic at play here goes like this: 1) Only God is good, 2) Jesus is clearly good, 3) Jesus is God.

In this way, Jesus is here once again teaching wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove in the midst of wolves. For those who don’t have ears to hear, he is merely saying what every 1st-century Jewish person believed – that only God is good. For those with ears to hear, he is affirming that he is good and therefore he is God. And for those who would accuse him of blasphemy before his time has come, Jesus has subtly claimed divinity in a way that does not yet give them something solid to grab hold of.

The rest of Jesus’ response to the rich young ruler continues to be a masterclass in indirect teaching. Even though Jesus knows that no one can be saved by keeping the commandments, Jesus tells the young man to list out the commandments and then tells him to keep them. When the young man affirms that he has indeed kept them all his life, then Jesus gives him a final command, one that exposes his idolatry. Tragically, money is his god, more important to him than YHWH and more important than following YHWH’s messiah. In this way, Jesus indirectly demonstrates that the young man had not in fact been keeping the commandments at all. He was an idolater. He was not good, because no one is good but God alone.

The subtle and indirect nature of this second part of the response strengthens the case that the first part of the response – Jesus’ question – should be understood in the same way. When Jesus says, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone,” he is really saying that he is indeed good, and therefore he is God. The rich young ruler, merely intending to be respectful, was speaking more truly than he knew. His standard of goodness was woefully insufficient, as proved by his assessment of his own life. But God allowed him to address Jesus in a way that was utterly and ironically spot on. Jesus is a good teacher; in fact, the only good teacher.

Our Muslim friends need to understand that the case for Jesus’ divinity is built by dozens and dozens of indirect logic passages just like this one. No one forgives sin except God, Jesus forgives sin, Jesus is God. No one is good except God, Jesus is good, Jesus is God. The examples go on and on. We need to help our friends understand the type of logic and the type of lessons used by Jesus and his Apostles to establish Jesus’ divinity. And yes, they even have an advantage over us in understanding these lessons and logic, which are, after all, very Middle Eastern and Central Asian in their character.

Jesus is an incredible teacher, the very best. And good teachers don’t just teach directly. They teach indirectly also. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

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Son of Man Also Means Human

It’s good for us to remember that affirming the humanity of Jesus is just as important as affirming his divinity. Not only the life of Jesus, but even his titles teach us that he is The Godman – fully human, fully divine.

Like many Christians, when I was growing up I assumed that the title Son of Man emphasized Christ’s humanity and the title Son of God emphasized his divinity. I was very surprised to later learn that I had it somewhat backward. While both titles can teach us of Christ’s humanity and his divinity, Son of God emphasizes Christ’s humanity, telling us that Jesus is the true Adam, the true heir of David, the true Israel – all three of whom are called God’s son in the Scriptures. And Son of Man emphasizes Christ’s divinity by linking Christ directly to the Daniel 7 Son of Man who comes on the clouds of heaven, is worshipped by all the nations, and rules an eternal kingdom. All of those descriptives are shouting in OT imagery and language that this figure in Daniel’s dream is, in fact, divine.

Yet even though Son of Man’s primary emphasis is Christ’s divinity, it truly does have a secondary emphasis that this figure is also human. When the original audience read Daniel’s dream account, they would have understood his “and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man” to mean essentially, “get this, someone who looked like a man came on the clouds.” Son of Man at this time was a phrase that meant human, son of Adam, not all that different from how Aslan uses it when addressing the Pevensies.

The events of Daniel 7 confirm this. What’s going on in the rest of the dream is that Daniel is shown four earthly kingdoms represented as four violent beasts. He is then shown how God, the Ancient of Days, judges them. Then this is where the Son of Man comes in. Whereas the four violent kingdoms are described as like a bipedal wing-clipped lion, like a lopsided bear, like a flying leopard with four heads, and like a mystery monster beast with iron teeth, this next figure is – mercifully – like a man. A Son of Man comes and is given dominion over the beasts. Sounds a lot like the creation account.

This connection to creation and the phrase, Son of Man, is made explicitly in Psalm 8.


	[3] When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
		the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
	[4] what is man that you are mindful of him,
		and the son of man that you care for him?
	
	[5] Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
		and crowned him with glory and honor.
	[6] You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
		you have put all things under his feet,
	[7] all sheep and oxen,
		and also the beasts of the field,
	[8] the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
		whatever passes along the paths of the seas. (ESV)

Just as Adam and the Son of Adam/Son of Man were given dominion over the beasts of the field in Genesis and Psalm 8, so the heavenly Son of Man in Daniel 7 is given dominion over and against the kingdoms of the earth that have become beastly. A contemporary reader of Daniel who knew their Psalms and their Torah would have been picking up on these connections. Son of Man communicates human at least, but a human as he’s meant to be. Perhaps the original audience wondered if this figure in Daniel’s dream might somehow be a new Adam.

There’s also a good possibility that readers of Daniel were also readers of Ezekiel since their ministries were happening at roughly the same time. Anyone who’s ever read Ezekiel can’t help but notice the dozens and dozens of times that God addresses Ezekiel as Son of Man. As a prophet, Ezekiel is sent into exile with his people. He suffers with his people and his acted-out punishment is even viewed as being for his people (Ez 4:4-6). Jim Hamilton* says of Ezekiel, “The role which the prophet has assumed among his people is one of representative, intercessor, and substitute.” It is possible that these kinds of roles of the exiled prophet might also be assigned to the heavenly Son of Man by Daniel. If so, then his identity is to be understood as a man who enters into the suffering of his people and bears their punishment with and for them.

The divine imagery of Daniel 7 can’t be missed. The Son of Man is clearly somehow God, even though he is also somehow distinct from the Ancient of Days. This is why the Sanhedrin freak out when Jesus applies this passage to himself. Yet the Adam and Ezekiel connections are there in Daniel 7 also, secondarily emphasizing the Son of Man’s humanity. In this way, the title Son of Man means divine and it also means human.

The result is a wonderful mystery that must have had the original readers engaging in quite the theological chin-scratching. There’s only one God. Yet this Son of Man figure is clearly divine. And yet he’s also distinct from the Ancient of Days and clearly some kind of human. How??? To echo a question from future centuries, “Who is this Son of Man?”

What a privilege to live in a time when we know exactly who he is.

*Hamilton, With the Clouds of Heaven, p. 150

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The Man on the Island, the Man in the Mirror

We expect it in the West, but it’s a curious thing when believers from unreached people groups wrestle with the classic “man on the island” question. You know the one – “But if a good man stranded on an island dies with no chance to hear the gospel, does he still go to hell?”

On the one hand, it makes sense that they would wrestle with this issue, especially if they are among the first generation to come to faith from their people. It’s not just some of their ancestors, but potentially all of them who have died and now inhabit a Christless eternity. Every parent, grandparent, great-grandparent, and renowned member of the family tree died with no witness to the gospel message and is now beyond hope. The costs of the exclusivity of Christ land differently when you haven’t come from a Christian heritage at all.

On the other hand, it’s somewhat ironic when these individuals struggle with this question. Because they in some sense are that man on the island, and they have now been unexpectedly reached with the gospel. As members of unreached or unengaged people groups, they previously had no access to the gospel. They were cut off culturally, linguistically, or even geographically from the truth. And then one day they weren’t.

I remember a new believer in Central Asia posing his question about a hypothetical man in India, which to him must have felt like the remote ends of the earth. I smiled, knowing that many in the West might pose the same question, but place their hypothetical man in the very region where we were sitting having our discussion. I wanted to take my friend by the shoulders and say, “Brother, you are the man you are asking about. And look what happened to you!”

Ultimately, everyone struggles at some point with the exclusivity of Christ, no matter their language, culture, people group, or relative remoteness. This means that disciple-makers need to be ready to give an answer to this common question, whether they are mentoring Gen Z believers in the American Midwest or a tribal patriarch in Southeast Asia.

A good way to begin that answer is with a call to look in the mirror. Any believer asking this question was also at one point truly “without hope and without God” (Eph 2:12). Yet because Jesus has other sheep that are not of this fold, and those sheep hear his voice, they were sought out and enabled to hear the voice of the shepherd (John 10:16). Jesus’ sheep are scattered throughout the world and cut off from the truth, yes. But the shepherd will find each and every one of them, just as he found the particular believer asking the question.

There is a second angle by which those struggling with this question can be called to look in the mirror. Often, the emotional weight of the question is based on the assumption that there are people out there who are better than the question asker. “I’ve got this holy uncle,” as it was once put to me. But in the real world, there are no holy uncles. When we look in the mirror, the person who looks back is someone who is deserving of hell because of their sin. And everyone else in the world, when they look in the mirror and their conscience is honest, feels that same truth down in their bones. We all intrinsically know that we have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Rom 2:15). Yet we are easily deceived into thinking others are not like us. The classic response to the man on the island objection holds up; namely, the question doesn’t work. There are no good men. Only sinners, just like us.

We must ultimately call the one struggling with this question to look from the mirror to The Book. The Bible clearly commands that we take the gospel to the ends of the earth (Matt 28:18-20). From the very beginning, Jesus has tasked his Church with proclaiming the good news, without which salvation is impossible (John 3:18). We are clearly called to do whatever we can to get the gospel to every man who is on an island (1 Cor 9:22). The logic of scripture is clear – unless they follow Jesus, “the way, the truth, the life,” they are lost (John 14:6). If there were some kind of exception to this rule based on never hearing the message, then it completely clashes with the emphasis of Jesus and the Apostles and their global mission. If sinners can be saved by never having the chance to hear the gospel, then the Great Commission makes no sense.

Further, the logic of the scriptures is not that we are first condemned for rejecting the gospel, but that we are condemned for rejecting the light we have. According to Romans, the man on the island has the law of God in some way written upon his heart (Rom 2:11-16). He has a conscience. He has access to creation, which preaches to him daily that there is a creator who is worthy of his worship (Rom 1:18-23). He himself is a witness to this truth, being made in the image of God, and even his pagan ancestors passed down to him fragments of truth that have clung on in his fallen culture (Acts 17:23). Yet universally, each of these witnesses, whether a small or great light, is suppressed by each and every human heart (Rom 1:18). That’s why we are universally condemned, whether growing up on an island alone or with the strongest possible Christian heritage. Hell awaits in either case, unless God miraculously intervenes and causes the sinner to hear the gospel and love the light, rather than suppress it.

How can it be right and just that after 2,000 years, some people’s ancestors were granted access to the gospel while others weren’t? This doesn’t seem fair. Here, we must hold on to the mystery of how God has scattered his chosen sheep throughout time and history. There is much in this mystery of election to which we are not yet given access (Rom 11:32-36). Yet we also need to remember that what we know of church history is only a very small picture of everything that has transpired. As with history in general, the vast majority of records have been destroyed, lost, or were never made in the first place. And yet what has been discovered is far more global in scope than most Christians are aware of. The ancient church didn’t just preach the gospel in the Roman empire, but also far beyond it. Ancient and medieval Christianity stretched from Ireland to Korea, to Ethiopia, India, the Arabian peninsula, and on up to Scandinavia. There are even old claims of Irish missionary monks striking out for North America in their one-man coracle boats.

Far more people groups than we might expect do indeed have a Christian heritage, or at least a period in history when their ancestors were exposed to gospel preaching. In fact, for many of the unreached people groups of the 10/40 window, the churches planted represent a renewed witness rather than the first one in history. As one mission leader said when in Uzbekistan visiting the tomb of Tamerlane, the great exterminator of Central Asian Christianity, “You’re dead, and we’re back.” Even now, medieval Christian graveyards are being discovered in far-flung places like Kazakhstan, demonstrating that the Church throughout the ages took its Great Commission mandate seriously. Certainly, eternity will present some fascinating missions history that has never been told here on Earth. In this, there is a degree of comfort for the believer who feels that until his generation God had left his people without a witness.

The exclusivity of Christ and the man on the island are questions that all believers are likely to wrestle with, regardless of their background. Fallen human logic simply struggles to understand the wisdom of the sovereign God. Yet there is a wealth of answers in the mirror, in the Scriptures, and even in church history that help us equip the struggling believer with solid truth. This is truth that grounds, but even more, truth that lifts our eyes to wrestle with what it will take to reach those islands – to reach the ends of the earth.

Better get the coracles ready.

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Did the Jews Really Borrow Certain Doctrines From the Zoroastrians?

“You know the Jews only got their belief in a fiery hell from the Zoroastrians in Babylon, right?”

This argument from my atheistic aunt was a new one for me. We had traveled to the Philly area to celebrate my engagement, when one morning my aunt opened up an apologetics conversation by asking me if I believed there would be free will in heaven. Somehow the conversation had veered into the territory of Zoroastrianism, which my aunt was putting forward as a point to undermine the authority of the Scriptures. After all, if central ideas like the nature of life after death had been borrowed from other religions, this would cast serious doubt on the Bible’s authority as God’s true revelation.

I chewed on her claim and considered how to respond.

“Well, I don’t know a lot about Zoroastrianism. But I don’t think you should say that there was no concept of a fiery judgment until after the exile. The ending of Isaiah (66:24) speaks of the wicked being judged by a fire that will never be quenched. And he predated the exile by a generation or so.”

That conversation may have been the first time I heard the argument that Judaism (and Christianity through it) borrowed heavily from Zoroastrianism. But it certainly wasn’t the last. This position is held as fact by many scholars, and even shows up in some pretty good Christian textbooks and resources. In addition, Zoroastrianism is enjoying a quiet revival in Central Asia and also has some good PR in the West with claims of being “The first monotheistic religion” and the first to teach a final judgment and resurrection.

So, how should Christians respond to the claim that much of our doctrine has been borrowed from the teachings of Zarathustra/Zoroaster, the ancient prophet who founded Zoroastrianism?

First, it helps to have a basic understanding of the history of this religion. Because that story alone leaves a lot to be desired in terms of statements of historical certainty. As best we can tell, Zarathustra was an influential religious teacher sometime around 1,200 BC to 500 BC who sought to reform the polytheism of ancient Persia into something approaching monotheism. But even here, we should be cautious calling calling it monotheism, since early Zoroastrianism teaches a temporary dualism, where even though there was only one God (Ahura Mazda), now there is a second, his evil enemy (Angra Mainyu), who is a god that must be battled both in creation and in the souls of humans. But later, when Zoroastrianism was codified and organized under the Sassanians in the AD 200s, its sacred text, the Avesta, presents an eternal dualism, or even an eternal tri-theism. Even Mithra, the God of war from the Persian pantheon who became so popular among the Roman legions, is thrown into the mix. The goal of the religion remains the same, to help Ahura Mazda, the god of light, overcome the darkness through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds. But the nature of Ahura Mazda as the one true God is not even settled within the history and texts of Zoroastrianism itself. And even if it were, Moses predates Zarathustra by 400 years, at least. So, the claim that Jewish monotheism was borrowed from Zoroastrianism? It doesn’t hold water.

How about the claims that the concepts of a fiery hell and resurrection were borrowed? Here there a couple of big problems, as I see it. First, the later possible dates for Zarathustra’s life could place him as a contemporary of Daniel, Ezekiel, and the other writers of the exile period. A number of scholars maintain that Zarathustra was active during the lifetime of Cyrus the great. So, when the concept of resurrection shows up in Ezekiel and Daniel (Ez 37, Dan 12), why should the assumption be that they borrowed from the Zoroastrians they encountered in Babylon and Susa, when it’s just as likely that Zarathustra borrowed from them? Don’t forget what an influential figure Daniel was for decades in both the Babylonian and the Persian empires. He was not only prime minister, political second-in-command, but also head of the wise men of Babylon – essentially the priestly class. It’s not an unreasonable theory to propose that it is Daniel who is influencing the religion of the Persian empire, and not the other way around.

Further, how do you establish what Zoroastrianism was actually teaching during the time of the exile when its sacred texts were not collected and compiled until 700 years later, during the first generation of the Sassanian empire in the 200s? This is the seriousness of the problem if Zarathustra was a contemporary of Daniel. But if he lived much earlier, say around 1,200 BC, then that makes for a period of 1,400 years between the life of Zarathustra and the compilation of his book of teachings, the Avesta. That would be like the Qur’an only being compiled today, when Muhammad lived and taught in the 600s. Given these huge periods of time, it seems like quite the stretch to read things in the Avesta and to say with confidence that these were indeed the teachings of Zarathustra, therefore they predate the biblical authors, therefore they must be the source for Jewish doctrine. Given this murkiness of the history of Zarathustra and Zoroastrianism, it seems that scholars are not really holding this ancient Persian religion to the same level of skepticism and criticism which they apply to Judaism and Christianity.

Ah, but you can’t find resurrection anywhere earlier than Ezekiel and Daniel, can you? Well, Jesus did, in the Torah, in Exodus 3:6. “And as for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what was said to you by God: ‘I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not God of the dead, but of the living” (Matthew 22:31–33). And if we turn to Isaiah, once again we see this supposedly borrowed concept being taught a generation before the exile, “Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead” (Isaiah 26:19). For more evidence of resurrection in the Old Testament, check out this great article by Mitch Chase.

Over the years, I have heard these claims of borrowing from Zoroastrianism coming from my relatives, from Christian scholars, from online documentaries, and from Central Asian Zoroastrians trying to return to their roots. But when I dig around in the actual history of Zoroastrianism, of its founder and its beliefs, it doesn’t seem like these claims are coming from an examination of Zoroastrianism itself. Rather, it feels like some scholar made these claims once, everyone believed him, and now it’s just a big echo chamber where all accept these ideas as fact without knowing where they came from and if they were indeed sound in the first place.

Keep an eye out for Zoroastrianism in your evangelistic or apologetic conversations, and even in your resources. It tends to show up more than you might expect, claiming some pretty big things without the historical warrant to do so. A basic understanding of the story of Zoroastrianism – and how much really is debatable – can help provide a surprising answer, and get the conversation back on more profitable ground.

For my list of recommended books and travel gear, click here.

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Why We Go Light on Polemics

“You don’t have to point out what’s wrong with our religion. Deep down, we know more than you ever could regarding the dark things in Islam.”

This comment years ago from a Middle Eastern friend has always stuck with me. Over time, it has proven to be sound advice, wisdom that has been borne out in countless relationships with Muslims who are coming from honor-shame cultures.

I’ve never had a personality that naturally goes hard after polemics, which is the practice of highlighting the weaknesses and errors of other religions and worldviews as a method of thereby getting to the gospel. But when locals outright deny, brush under the rug, or just plain don’t know about the the scandalous or dark parts of their holy books or prophet’s life, it is awfully tempting to start attacking these foundations of their belief, even for me.

I am not saying there is never a time to do polemics. After all, Paul says that we “destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God” (2 Cor 10:5). There will be times when we follow the Spirit’s leading into saying something true that makes our hearers very angry – let’s not forget about the example of Stephen in Acts 7. And sometimes a direct assault will land home and result in further questions. But let’s also remember the story of the Samaritan woman in John 4, where Jesus doesn’t take the bait of entering into religious controversy in order that he might more effectively speak to the heart of his hearer. Many times, arguments about controversies are mere talking points or smokescreens meant to deflect from the real heart issues going on.

The main issue I’ve faced with polemical approaches is that they risk triggering a defensive response, where someone is overtaken by the sense that they are duty-bound to protect their community’s honor from the attacks of an outsider, whether they internally side with their community or not. Westerners might feel this way if the attacks aren’t perceived to be fair and balanced. Those coming from honor-shame cultures often feel this fire to defend simply because there is an attack at all – fair or not. This means that someone who might otherwise listen to the gospel can go into fight mode if I start “dishonoring” the creed and traditions of his people – and then the chance to get to the gospel can be lost.

This is where my friend’s comment has proved to be so helpful. By sharing what he did, he let me know that things in Islam’s sources and history like child brides, slavery, wife-beating, the killing of Jews and infidels, the hypocrisy of the religious establishment, and the jihad-gained wealth of Muhammad and his companions are not only known to many locals, but can even keep them up at night. Many Muslims are already wrestling with these things, albeit quietly.

Since this is the case, I don’t have to go to these risky places of conversation early on in my relationship with my Muslim friend. When I share with him about Jesus or we study the Bible together, often he is automatically comparing what he hears with what Islam has taught him. And our conversation can keep on going since no open attacks on honor have yet taken place. Instead, a thousand indirect attacks are taking place and are mounting through the simple explanation and illustration of gospel truth.

Taking a look at how husbands are called to love their wives in Ephesians 5 or how Jesus calls us to love our enemies in Matthew 5 holds up a powerful contrast for a Muslim friend. He must then wrestle with this contrast that his mind is now faced with, the stark difference between texts like these and his own. In this way, polemics are in a sense happening, but indirectly, as a kind of open secret. We both know what is going on, but without verbally acknowledging it we have room in an honor-shame culture to skip the usually-required defense.

In fact, it’s not uncommon for this kind of beginning to eventually lead to an explicit discussion of Muhammad, the Qur’an, or those seventy virgins promised in the Islamic conception of paradise. But the respectful long approach to these topics and the relational credibility established by that point often mean a very different kind of conversation – one where my friend lets me know he’s ready by asking my thoughts on these topics, where he is free to share his own doubts and questions, and where I can say direct things, knowing that they will be heard in love.

There is also a big difference in this area between ourselves and local believers. We’ve found that local believers are able to engage in helpful polemics much more quickly than we are, because they are not viewed as outsiders. This seems to mean that the honor-shame defense mechanism doesn’t trigger in quite the same way for them as it does for us foreigners. This can go too far as new believers from a Muslim background do tend to go overboard with polemics – and at times forget to talk about Jesus. But it generally holds true that they have more of a chance than we do of having their attacks actually heard.

Now, when we’re on a visit and someone publicly goes after the reliability of the Bible, I want to still be ready to respond back with a defense and questions of my own. The door to a kind of “challenge-riposte” conversation has been opened by a local, and to not defend and counter would be viewed as dishonorable. However, even in this kind of context I will hold back on the most controversial topics, knowing that, unfortunately, those from honor-shame cultures can dish the attacks out, but they struggle to take it back without losing their heads. Alas, every culture has its weaknesses.

However, our usual approach to polemics is to go light and indirect, the equivalent of giving a man some roast lamb before we try to take his poorly-cooked rice away. Once faced with the choice, he will want to choose the lamb. But if rice is all he has, he will fight for that bowl of starch with all that he has. Instead, set the lamb down, let him smell and taste it, and then attempt the rice away. This kind of contrast – and timing – can make all the difference.

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You’ve Never Heard This (Spiritually) Before

I’ve seen it happen many times. A new believer is sharing their testimony and when speaking of a moment of breakthrough gospel understanding, they say things like,

“I had never heard that before.”

“That was the first time I heard the gospel.”

“No one had previously explained Jesus to me in that way.”

Meanwhile, their longtime believing friend is sitting nearby, with an incredulous look on their face or perhaps a perplexed smile, knowing that that moment was definitely not the first time they had had the gospel presented to them clearly. The new believer represents the first time they understood the gospel as the first time they heard the gospel. And this doesn’t seem to be an intentional revision of the historical record, but an honest representation of their experience. In some mysterious way, there seems to be a memory loss effect upon the mind of an unbeliever when they hear, but don’t comprehend, the good news. Things get blocked out. Then all of the sudden, they’re not any more.

Perhaps you’ve never seen this with unbelieving or newly believing friends, but have experienced a parallel with your own offspring. I know a similar dynamic takes place with our kids.

“Ohhh, why have you never said that before? That makes sense.”

How many parents have heard similar sentiments, knowing that that same truth has indeed been repeated dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times in the past? Such moments for the parent are an interesting mixture of perplexity and deep relief that said truth has finally reached its target.

This past week our church plant was studying the person of the Holy Spirit in John 14. In verse 17 it says, “… the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, for he dwells with you and will be in you.” While discussing what this verse means regarding the truth-revealing role of the Holy Spirit, we turned to 1st Corinthians 2:12-14.

Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual. The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.

These passages are clear. Those who are not yet believers cannot understand the truths of God, because the Holy Spirit and his spiritual understanding have not yet been given to them. The presence of the Spirit in a person is the key that leads to true spiritual understanding and discernment. The natural person cannot understand spiritual things without this key.

I saw it this morning as I shared the gospel with two older men in a money-changing shop – furrowed brows indicating that the message of salvation through the sacrifice of Jesus was not quite making sense to them. I’ve seen it for the last three Tuesday nights as a group of us gathered to field hard questions, including those of Darius’* cousin and another close photographer friend. These two former-Muslims/current agnostics are being treated to some excellent apologetics and biblical answers, especially from Alan*, with his scholarly mind and long experience of himself wrestling to find the truth (What a joy it is to see local believers taking a more prominent role in these kinds of conversations). Yet these unbelieving friends grind the gears of their unregenerate minds, seeming to move mere millimeters in terms of actually understanding and agreeing to what we are saying. They will likely not remember the spiritual answers they have been given at this point if they later become believers. And Alan will shake his head when some other guy later repeats the same point and they claim that it’s the first time they’ve heard it.

So what’s the point? Why sow seed that just seems to get eaten by the birds, rich truths that seem to immediately get suppressed and later forgotten? Simply because this is the only way that spiritual understanding comes about – through the unrelenting sowing of God’s word. The Spirit only comes upon those who have heard the words of truth. He does not work without it or around it. He works through his word, period. And from our perspective we cannot see what is going on behind the scenes, which seed is the one that will take root and burst through the concrete. He sovereignly chooses to strike with life sooner, later, or not at all.

To borrow an analogy from Donald Whitney, we cannot control the lightning, but we can set up lightning rods. Lightning tends to strike metal rods, so we would be foolish to not set them out simply because the actual strike is beyond our control. On the contrary, if you want the lightning to strike, then put out as many rods as you can.

It really is OK when our newly believing friends remember things inaccurately. God knows the true part that each and every conversation played and the mysterious ways that the spiritually-dead mind represses things. We can sit back and smile when we have played a part that is now forgotten or even distorted. What really matters is that spiritual truth is now understood by our friends, who are now themselves truly spiritual.

In fact, they are not all wrong when they claim to have never heard said truth before. They just never heard it spiritually.

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*Names changed for security

What of the Miracles Attesting to Islam?

This past week we hosted a Q&A time for the local believing men. For a couple hours, we sat in our living room and engaged difficult questions that they have wrestled with. Together, we attempted to first answer these questions from God’s word and then from other experience and logic.

We didn’t make it through very many questions, spending the time primarily engaging several apologetics issues that local Muslims regularly challenge the local believers with. One very common question is what we make of all the alleged miracles that support Islam’s claims.

Islam leans very heavily on claims of the miraculous in order to prove that it is indeed God’s final authoritative religion. The perfection of the Qur’an’s language – written by an illiterate prophet – is one alleged miracle most Muslims would agree to. It’s also very popular to go into detail about how mysterious Arabic phrases in the Qur’an were in fact prophecies of scientific realities only demonstrated in recent centuries (See the book, “Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus” for an in-depth discussion of this kind of Islamic apologetics). Islam is divided over whether Mohammad himself did many miracles. His official biography, written in the 700’s by Ibn Is’haq, describes dozens of miracles he performed. But many conservative Muslims debate this, since the Qur’an seems to suggest that the prophet of Islam did no other miracles other than the recitation of the Qur’an.

However, on a folk level, many Muslims maintain that Mohammad did in fact perform many miracles, such as splitting the moon in half at one point, and that Allah continues to give testifying signs that confirm the truth of Islam. Not unlike a Catholic finding a portrait of the virgin Mary in a piece of burnt toast, I’ve heard serious claims that “Allahu Akbar” has been written in the clouds or in the markings of a watermelon skin. Just last night I saw a post claiming that a Muslim scholar drank rat poison after eating some special dates and was unharmed. This was allegedly a fulfillment of a promise regarding said dates from either the Qur’an or the Hadith.

So, the local believers wanted to know, how should we respond when our friends or relatives we are sharing the gospel with make these claims?

“I always ask them, ‘What, where, when, how?'” said Darius*. “It’s all baseless.”

“But what Bible passages can we turn to to help answer this question,” I asked.

The group sat and mulled silently for a second.

“How about Matthew 7:15-20?” one of the other men suggested. “This talks about how we’ll know false prophets by their fruit. The fruit of Mohammad’s life was bad, so we know that we can’t trust his miracles.”

We read the passage together that begins with, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruit.”

“Good, and keep reading,” I suggested, “Until verse 23. Notice how it says that many will have prophesied and cast out demons in Jesus’ name, but they don’t actually know Jesus. So there must be another power enabling them to do these signs.”

“The power of Satan?” the group asked. Several of us nodded.

“We have to admit that according to the Bible, it’s possible for people to do real miracles, but with evil power, not with God’s power. Remember Pharaoh’s magicians in Exodus chapter 7, how they copied Aaron’s miracle and their staffs also became snakes?”

“Yes! But then Aaron’s snake swallowed the other snakes,” added Henry*.

“So, miracles done through an evil power really are possible, but we can say they will somehow fall short of God’s true miracles,” I suggested. “The magicians of Egypt are soon unable to duplicate the signs of Moses and Aaron.”

“Here’s a followup question, then. Are miracles even enough to validate the truth of a message?”

The group chewed on the question for a moment before affirming that no, miracles alone are insufficient proof.

“So what else is needed? How about agreement with the message of all God’s revelation that has come before?”

“That sounds like 1st John 4,” said one of my colleagues who was also part of the discussion.

“Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the spirit of God; every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Christ is not from God.” (1st John 4:1-3)

Here we spent a little time talking about the false teaching in the passage that denied Jesus’ humanity, and comparing it with Islam, which denies Jesus’ divinity. Even though opposite ends of the heresy spectrum, both are denying key tenets about the person and work of Christ, denying the core of the gospel message.

“So even if false prophets come with powerful signs, if their message denies the gospel taught from Genesis to Revelation, then they are false prophets. Signs must be accompanied by the same message,” we concluded.

“But so many of the miracles claimed by Islam are actually hogwash!” others chimed in.

“Yes, and you can have that discussion if you need to,” I responded. “But you can also just go to these verses (or others like Matthew 24:24 and Galatians 1:8) and show that miracles and signs alone simply aren’t proof of a correct message or religion. And then you can talk about the gospel message.”

The discussion moved on from there to responding to claims that the Bible has been changed and claims that Islam is the final “seal” religion. We ended the night by focusing on the need for God’s word to break down hard hearts, since consistent and clean logic is never enough in these kinds of apologetics conversations.

“Let’s make sure we are responding with God’s word. God promises to use his word in powerful ways, and it is the chosen vehicle of the Holy Spirit, like spiritual explosives. There’s simply no promise that he will use my logic or arguments or experience in the same way.”

*names changed for security

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Eating Out With Your Kids When Hell is Real

Recently, the New York Times ran a piece on a famous pastor’s son who is now a vocal ex-vangelical and a rising Tiktok star. Many have commented on the story and it’s not my intention here to weigh in on this tragic situation. God is sovereign and I pray that this man will one day have his eyes truly opened, and not remain in the sad ranks of those who achieved fame by publicly maligning the faith their fathers preached.

But there was one comment of his quoted in the article that I have been chewing on. He says, “How are you going to take your family to Outback [Steakhouse] after church while millions of people are burning alive?”

It’s the sort of “gotcha” question meant to highlight the supposed absurdity of a literal hell. “See? You can’t live consistently with this belief. You are a hypocrite to go enjoy a meal at a restaurant if you really believe in eternal suffering in hell.”

My main response to this comment would be to point out that the Christian is not unusually hypocritical to live this way – pursuing occasional wholesome recreation while millions suffer. The entire world lives this way every day. There is in fact no other way to live, in the actual sense of the word.

The fact is that this world is full of a million previews of a literal hell. Genocide. Starvation. Sexual abuse. Natural Disasters. Political violence. Abortion. Racist violence. Disease. War. Millions are suffering even as I write this and sit on my couch with a good cup of coffee. Millions are dying even as you read this line. Untold depths of anguish are taking place in the seconds it takes to verbalize the unbeliever’s “gotcha” question above.

There may be seasons of our lives where we try to alleviate the suffering of this world through burning ourselves out in a frenetic effort to rescue the suffering. Many experience a season like this in the university years. But if we are not careful, this can be the road to a kind of insanity. The weight of the suffering (and the indifference) can crush our hearts, minds, and bodies and we can end up broken, naked, and pounding the cement outside our house until we are arrested – as happened a few years ago with the founder of an American humanitarian movement that worked with African child soldiers.

We are not made to bear the suffering of the world on our shoulders. Only God can do that. We are made to respond compassionately to the suffering that God has brought into our own sphere of influence. And we are made to live whole lives. To not just respond to suffering, but to eat, to sleep, to laugh, to plant, to nurture, to work, to worship, and to recreate in all of its best forms. Those who neglect these things soon experience the cost of doing so on many levels. As one book puts it, the body keeps the score. As does the soul.

Even unbelievers find themselves living normal lives in the face of incredible contemporary suffering. But how how can they _____ when millions of Uighurs are living in concentration camps? What about the street children of Africa? Those trapped in sex slavery in South Asia? The widespread practice of honor killings and female circumcision in Central Asia? How can they just grab coffee with a friend, go to the gym, walk their dog, call their mom, or sit in that staff meeting in the face of such suffering?

The answer, even for unbelievers, is that the real presence of suffering doesn’t nullify our responsibility to live whole lives. We must somehow find a way to live healthy lives and to respond to the tragedy of human suffering. If we sacrifice wise living for the sake of alleviating others’ suffering, we will soon find that we are only adding to the suffering of this world, as our own lives and families fall apart. The only appropriate response to the ever-present suffering of this world must be a sustainable one. Responding to suffering cannot mean a continual neglect of what it means to be a human truly alive. If this is so for this world, then why would it not be so for the next?

This is not a question unique for Christians who believe in a literal hell. This is something we all must struggle with. The difference is that believers have a powerful source for living lives of sustainable sacrifice. Our God entered into our suffering, sacrificed himself, conquered suffering and death, and now indwells us. He gives us depths of compassion and love for the suffering we wouldn’t naturally have. And he is utterly sovereign, meaning we can trust him with the weight of the suffering we are unable to alleviate. I am thus empowered and freed to respond to human suffering and to take my kids out to eat after church. These things are not opposed to each other.

Life, real life, full of friendship and joy and echoes of Eden – this in the end is the most powerful way to heal this broken world. So, let’s love the suffering. By not neglecting to occasionally eat steak with the kids.

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Not Demigods

969 years. Although by our standards the pre-flood people lived long lives, one of the purposes of this genealogy was to be a polemic against Mesopotamian mythology, in which people lived for tens of thousands of years. Babylonian texts record the lives of ten kings who were demigods and lived exceptionally long lives in pre-flood times. The Sumerian King List names eight kings prior to the flood who lived a total of 241,000 years. The OT criticizes such myths; humans lived long lives before the flood, but they were not demigods who lived for an exaggerated amount of time.
ESV Archaeology Study Bible, p. 21

I find this to be an interesting note on the purpose of the pre-flood genealogy in Genesis. Who knew that a pre-flood life of 969 years at that time of Moses’ writing might come across as awfully conservative? If you want to peruse the Sumerian King List, you can do so here.

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