“And the Lord said unto Noah, Enter thou and all thine house into the Arke: for thee have I seen righteous before me in this age” (Genesis 7: 1).
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Ever since I was a child, the account of the Great Flood has always fascinated me. For some reason, this remains one of my favorite stories of the Bible. Not only is it packed with internal meaning, but a great deal of historical significance as well. For herein Moses gives an authentic account of the first great calamity that befell mankind. In a previous article, I discuss why God determined to destroy mankind from off the face of the earth. The Sons of God– that is, the true church– had intermixed among the wicked House of Cain to such a degree that there ensued a general lapse of morality, and a consequent uprising of wickedness which made it impossible to restore mankind by any other means than that of a thorough purging. In the above verse, one sees why Noah was spared. For he alone of all men of his generation remained righteous before God.
Before launching upon a discussion of the Great Deluge, it is expedient to remark that almost all ancient peoples have preserved some account of a worldwide flood. Perhaps the oldest historical record we have on hand is a fragment of Berosus, a Babylonian priest who lived circa 260 B.C. In this fragment he tells us that the god Kronos warned Xisuthrus of a flood which would overtake the earth. Xisuthrus, under the instructions of the deity, built an ark, into which he entered with his family, along with various animals, birds, and quadrupeds. After the water had submerged the earth for many days, he sent birds out of the ark to reconnoiter for dry land. Eventually, the waters having subsided, Xisuthrus and his family left the ark and built an altar to their god in remembrance of their deliverance. This tale is one of many like fables which relate the Mosaic account in a more or less corrupted form.
Another historical flood account exists among some old Chinese manuscripts. In a book entitled Remarkable Characters and Places of the Holy Land (1864), Charles W. Elliott, the author, quotes a “Dr. Smith” as saying: “The Chinese story is, in many respects, singularly like the Biblical. Fah-he, the reputed author of the Chinese civilization, is said to have escaped from the waters of the Deluge. He reappears as the first man at the production of a renovated world, attended by seven companions–his wife, three sons, and three daughters, by whose intermarriage the whole circle of the universe is finally completed.” There are similar stories among the Indians, as well as the Mexican Aztecs, all of whom tell of a worldwide flood. And, of course, there is an account in the Koran, which mixes Persian sources with Biblical.
However, the most noteworthy flood account, and that tallying most with the Mosaic record, is the Grecian fable of Deucalion and Pyrrha. The legend runs as follows: During the corrupt “Iron Age,” men had degenerated to such a degree that Zeus purposed to destroy mankind in a general overthrow. He was about to launch a thunderbolt, but, reconsidering, decided instead to send a flood. Deucalion, son of Prometheus, was instructed by his father to build an ark, in which he entered with his wife Pyrrha. Zeus restrained the north wind, which scatters the clouds, and unloosed the south wind, which brings rain. Thence followed a general calamity. Thomas Bullfinch, in his characteristic prose, details the effects of the flood:
“The clouds, driven together, resound with a crash; torrents of rain fall; the crops are laid low; the year’s labor of the husbandman perishes in an hour. Jupiter, not satisfied with his own waters, calls on his brother Neptune to aid him with his. He lets loose the rivers, and pours them over the land. At the same time, he heaves the land with an earthquake, and brings in the reflux of the ocean over the shores. Flocks, herds, men, and houses are swept away, and temples, with their sacred enclosures, profaned. If any edifice remained standing, it was overwhelmed, and its turrets lay hid beneath the waves. Now all was sea, sea without shore. Here and there an individual remained on a projecting hilltop, and a few, in boats, pulled the oar where they had lately driven the plough. The fishes swim among the tree-tops; the anchor is let down into a garden. Where the graceful lambs played but now, unwieldy sea calves gambol. The wolf swims among the sheep, the yellow lions and tigers struggle in the water. The strength of the wild boar serves him not, nor his swiftness the stag. The birds fall with weary wing into the water, having found no land for a resting-place. Those living beings whom the water spared fell a prey to hunger.”
Notwithstanding the complete submergence of the creation, Deucalion and Pyrrha were saved. After nine days of being afloat, the ark settled upon Mount Parnassus. Deucalion and Pyrrha entered a temple, where the oracle instructed them to repopulate the earth by taking stones and casting them behind as they went along. These stones became human beings, and thus was the earth re-inhabited after the Deluge. In his masterful telling, Bullfinch unfortunately neglects any mention of the ark. It is clear, however, that the tale in its complete form bears remarkable correspondence to that which Moses gives. And, although the story is related by neither Homer nor Hesiod, conservative scholars have correctly identified it as an early corruption of the Mosaic account.
Thus, the story of a worldwide flood is lent credence and support by the traditions of antiquity. And the veracity of the Mosaic record was not generally questioned until the close of the eighteenth century. Since that time, it has been subject to repeated attacks. However, I find it impossible to believe that the Deluge was not a genuine historical event. And therefore, I must accept the Scriptural testimony as authoritative. Whenever I study Moses’ account, I cannot help drawing parallels between the Great Flood and the General Judgment and Second Coming of Christ. That the former was a type of the universal parousia can hardly be doubted. Lamech, Noah’s father, prophecies concerning his son: “This same shall comfort us concerning our work and sorrow of our hands, as touching the earth, which the Lord hath cursed” (Gen. 5: 29). Thus, Lamech had respect unto the promise of Gen. 3: 15, and perceived Noah as a sign of the coming Deliverer.
Now, when God told Noah to begin the building of an ark, His instructions were quite implicit. “Make thee an Ark of pine trees: thou shalt make cabins in the Ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch. And thus shalt thou make it: the length of the Ark shall be three hundred cubits, the breadth of it fifty cubits, and the height of it thirty cubits. A window shalt thou make in the Ark, and in a cubit shalt thou finish it above, and the door in the Ark shalt thou set in the side thereof. Thou shalt make it with the low, second, and third room” (Gen. 7: 14-16). Most artistic renditions of the ark represent it as a sort of great sea-faring vessel. But this is an altogether erroneous concept. The Antediluvians certainly had no knowledge of ship building, nor is there any evidence that they even possessed the science of navigation. According to Berosus, the first maritime journey took place 143 years after the flood. The ark, then, would have been the first vessel of its kind; and it can hardly be thought of as anything so elaborate as some would portray it to be. Think of it, then, as a huge rectangular box with three stories– something akin to a giant granary shed– and you’ll come closer to the true picture. Primitive though it may have been, yet it abundantly answered its purpose. God oftentimes uses simple means in delivering His people.
Moses tells us that God gave Noah seven days in which to prepare himself for the flood (Gen. 7: 4). He was told to take with him seven of every clean beast: six for breeding purposes and one to offer as a burnt offering (Gen. 7: 2-3). Regarding the unclean beasts, only two were required. But Noah was commanded to take seven of every fowl. Thus, from the very beginning we find both birds and beasts being used as sacrificial offerings to God. This is important, as there are some today who deny that such sacrifice began prior to the Sinaitic covenant. Be that as it may, we should keep in mind that in all ages God has required blood as expiation for sin. And this is an institution which God gave to Adam (Gen. 3: 21). While burnt offerings no longer have any force in today’s age, it is only because Jesus Christ Himself nullified such sacrifice in the offering of Himself (Hebrews 9: 12). We vicariously partake of His offering through the regeneration of the Holy Spirit. The spirituality of its application, however, should not make us unmindful of the monumental truth that, from the church’s very inception, sacrifice was a required part of communion with God.
And so, on the very last day of the seven– the same, the Bible tells us, in which the flood began (Gen. 7: 13)– the beasts presented themselves before Noah in their pairs (Gen. 7: 9). This presentation has great internal significance, for it shows that the stewardship over God’s Creation was transferred from Adam to Noah. And that it was confirmed after the deluge, we may ascertain from Gen. 9: 2-3. Thus, the succession of Christ’s church passed to Noah; and after the Noachian covenant was ratified, it was transferred to Shem and his sons (Gen. 9: 26-27), thence passing on to Abraham, and later to Moses. The connection between the Jewish church and the House of Seth, whose founder was Adam, is clearly corroborated in this transferal of lordship over God’s creation. After all the animals presented themselves to Noah, the patriarch entered into the ark with his numerous charge and retinue (Gen. 7: 13-15). The door was then firmly shut (Gen. 7: 16), intimating, firstly, that it was now too late for mankind to repent– that the opportunity for entering the kingdom was expired (cf. Matt. 25: 10-12); and, secondly, that Noah and his family were secure from the effects of God’s wrath. Once they had entered the ark and the door was sealed to, the waters broke forth over all the earth.
“All the fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened, and the rain was upon the earth for forty days and forty nights” (Gen. 7: 11-12). These waters rose gradually, until the ark was buoyed up (Gen. 7: 17). We can imagine the terror of those who were left behind when the waters began to rage. How they must have beat upon the walls of the ark! How they must have pled for admittance! But it was too late. They had their chance when Noah preached to them, and they failed to listen to him, preferring their own ways to God’s. Once again, we can’t help drawing a comparison between the Mosaic account of the Deluge and Christ’s own warnings to Israel, and to all mankind. The days preceding the Second Coming of Christ will be precisely the same as those which preceded the flood (Luke 17: 26-27). It is hard to deny that a general apostasy prevails today in such widespread and virulent form that one is impelled– perhaps rightly so– to deem these the “last times.” When the measure of iniquity is filled up, disaster shall overtake the world. It is horrid to think that some will be condemned to perish, and yet that is probably why God has deferred His judgment for so long (2 Peter 3: 9). In all events, we can hasten the day of God by returning to the paths of righteousness (2 Peter 3: 11-12) and personal consecration, which is our reasonable service (Romans 12: 1).
It is said that the waters prevailed upon the earth for one hundred and fifty days (Gen. 7: 24). That is, it rained for forty days and nights, the waters remaining for one hundred and fifty days afterwards, ere they began to abate (Gen. 8: 3). If there is any symbolic significance in the numerology of the Noachian Deluge, we have not yet learned. However, we know for a certainty that Noah was in the ark for over a year. He entered it in the six hundredth year of his life, on the seventeenth day of the second month (Gen. 7: 11)– which shows that the flood began about the beginning of May. And Noah remained in the ark until his six hundred and first year, to the twenty-seventh day of the second month, (Gen. 8: 14) when the waters had dried up. Thus, Spring was in full bloom when he and his family left the ark. They had now emerged from great tribulation (Rev. 7: 14), and, in pious thanksgiving, offered up sacrifices unto God (Gen. 8: 20). When Noah completed his sacrifice, the Lord smelled a savor of rest (Gen. 8: 21). That is, He was appeased by these burnt-offerings, and forthwith ratified His covenant with the new steward of His creation. The covenant was confirmed with, not only mankind, but the beasts as well (Gen. 9: 9, 10, 12). We thus conclude that God exercises providential protection over all His creatures (see Matt. 10: 29). And the redemption the whole creation is comprehended in God’s soteriological scheme (Romans 8: 21).
I think a parallel can be drawn between Noah’s deliverance and the final deliverance of all God’s people from the power of the enemy. That Noah entered Canaan, or at least a type thereof, must be discerned by every judicious interpreter of the Old Covenant typology. This salvation embraced the entire house of God (the church,) as well as every creature in whom is the breath of life. And we find ourselves inclining to the view that a like redemption, of much vaster scale, will take place at the close of human history. God promises Noah that, so long as the earth remains, seed-time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter shall not cease (Gen. 8: 22). But that one day the earth should be purged by fire, is evident from Peter’s prophesy (2 Peter 3: 7), as well as the Lord’s own statement that “heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away” (Matt. 24: 35). For confirmation of this statement, see Matt. 5: 18, in which it seems that Christ is repeating, or at least referring to, the Midrash on Genesis 1: “Everything hath its end, heaven and earth have their end, one thing being excepted which hath no end, that is the law.” If we understand this destruction of heaven and earth as relating to the overthrow of the Jewish economy, yet still do Christ’s warnings remain in effect for all ages. And John Calvin adopts such a view in his commentary on Christ’s Olivet Discourse.
Yet we are digressing. Regardless of one’s personal interpretation of the Noachian typology, it is clear that the story of the Ark has a higher internal meaning, whose application must have reference to the individual believer. The ark ultimately represents Jesus Christ; and entering into Him will seal us from the Day of wrath, and that deluge from the ravages of sin, which must surely overtake those who are not sealed in Christ. Peter tells us that the Noachian deliverance was simply a figure of our own baptism (1 Peter 3: 21). And Paul says: “We are buried with Him by baptism into His death, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also should walk in newness of life” (Romans 6: 4). This newness of life is the most evident token we have of our future blessedness. And the sealing of the Holy Spirit shuts us in Christ while we await the Day of redemption (Eph. 1: 14). At that Day we shall enter into our rest (2 Thess. 1: 7). The typology of the Deluge, therefore, has great significance in light of Christian doctrinal teaching. And Noah’s example provides us a pattern to follow in our own lives. Yes, friends, let us take him as our example. For even while the world raged, Noah never gave up hope in God, nor lost faith in the efficacy of righteous and Holy living. And we conclude that while life remains, there is hope for repentance and the fruits of godliness. As John Masefield wrote:
Man with his burning soul
Has but an hour of breath
To build a ship of Truth
In which his soul may sail,
Sail on the sea of death.
For death takes toll
Of beauty, courage, youth,
Of all but Truth.
FINIS.