Only Son (part 6)

With Adam? Are we supposed to think that when Nicodemus heard Jesus speaking of God’s loving the world, the Son of God, belief, and eternal life, that he was not only supposed to be having ruminations along the lines of the exodus (because of the reference to Moses), but that he was also supposed to connect Jesus’ words all the way back to the beginning of the Genesis? Is this what Jesus had in mind? We’ve made the case that Jesus is grounding this conversation in the history of Israel, and since Israel’s history and purpose is wrapped up with God’s purpose for the world, we are fully justified in seeing Jesus grounding His mission within God’s purposes and plans that stretch all the way back to Adam, from whence His mission derives the fullness of its purpose. Naturally, Jesus’ statement is multi-faceted, and we are now positioned to first explore the Adamic-oriented premise of these wonderful words.

How is it that Nicodemus is going to connect all of these things to Genesis? How can we say that Jesus is making the same connection? It has to do with Jesus’ use of the “one and only Son.” Turning to the third chapter of the Gospel of Luke, we find the first piece of our puzzle. There, Luke provides the genealogy of Jesus. Luke’s genealogy begins with Jesus and works its way backwards. There is another genealogy in Matthew. It begins with Abraham and makes its way to Jesus. Luke’s genealogy is more extensive, as it traces Jesus’ lineage beyond Abraham, taking it all the way back to Adam. Luke refers to Adam, in this genealogy, as “the son of God.” If Luke refers to Adam in such a way, we can be assured that this is not a novel concept. It is quite likely that Adam is widely thought of in this way. If Adam is thought of as the son of God, then is it possible that Jesus is referring to Adam when He speaks of God sending His “one and only Son”? Absolutely. This is especially so in light of the historically grounded lens through which Jesus is causing Nicodemus to look at Him, and to consider the mission of the Son of Man, as He answers the questions posed to Him by Nicodemus. This is even more obviously the case when we take the time to think about the fullness of Jesus’ statement, and that with which it begins, which is “For this is the way God loved the world,” which is followed by “He gave His one and only Son.”

Again, we cannot imagine that, when Jesus says this to Nicodemus, that Nicodemus is supposed to connect the statement exclusively to Jesus, and we are most definitely not supposed to think solely along the lines of a personal salvation experience. This would not have been the mental framework of Jesus, of Nicodemus, or of the author. Such thinking would make no sense, as a personal, world-escaping salvation experience, contexted by our usual, short-sighted dichotomy between the alternative eternal choices of either heaven or hell, carried absolutely no theological weight inside the Judaism of that day. Not only is it a foreign concept, but it also represents an inward, anthropocentric focus, whereas Israel, and especially Jesus, had a theo-centric focus, being fully concerned with what God had done, was doing, and was going to do for His people and for the world. Their eyes were cast upon Him and His plans and purposes, rather than upon themselves. Though Israel as a whole thought about God inside the context of a separation from the nations, they certainly did not think about their God inside a counter-intuitive isolated individualism that was extremely personal in scope. Such thinking would not serve the purposes of their God that loved the world and sent His Son into the world because of that love.

So if Adam is the son of God, how are we to think about him in light of Jesus’ statement, which we so routinely think of as nothing more than a self-referential evidentiary proposition that Jesus thought of Himself as the Son of God, and used this meeting with Nicodemus to inform him (with the author also informing his readers) that He was indeed the second person of the divine trinity? Well, the answer lies in Genesis. God created the world. Regardless of what it was that was happening and is recorded in the first two chapters of Genesis, the fact of the matter, which was well-accepted by Israel, and obviously by Jesus, was that their God was the Creator of this world, that He was a providential God that held all things together by His power, and evidenced His presence by dramatic and powerful interventions in the affairs of the world, doing so primarily because He was a covenant-making-and-keeping God. The first verse of Genesis show forth a God that created the heavens and the earth (i.e. everything). Together with that, we go on to be presented with a God of restoration. There is a consistent pronouncement, throughout the Genesis account, that God saw His work as being good.

Additionally, from the very beginning, we find a God that speaks in the language of covenant. In the first chapter, when God repeatedly says, “Let there be,” this can be understood as an approximation of covenant language. To get our minds around that, we can think of God’s covenant with Abraham, and hear Him saying “Let it be so,” as He declares the covenant that sets forth His purpose for Abraham, for His descendants, and for the world. In the twenty-sixth verse of the first chapter of Genesis, after God has pronounced everything as good, and established an order in this world that He so obviously loved, He takes one final step and says “Let us make humankind in our image, after our likeness, so they may rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move on the earth” (Genesis 1:26). Yes, God loved the world, and He showed forth that love by creating a being in His own image, that would reflect His glory and be a reminder of His creative power and His rule. He created Adam. He sent His one and only son into the world to rule in proxy for Him. If we understand this, then we are one step closer to understanding the full impact of Jesus’ words.