"This is the book of the generations of Adam." Thus read the minister, and proceeded with the genealogy down to Noah as recorded in Genesis 5. It is chiefly filled with names and ages; and one who is not convinced of the value of the whole Word of God might account it dry and unattractive, while even an evangelist might find it difficult to preach the gospel from such a scripture. Yet from all eternity had it been ordained, in the counsels of the God of grace, that this apparently mere historical record should be the means of bringing everlasting blessing to the soul of a poor profligate.
It was one little expression occurring eight times over in the chapter that wrought this blessed result. It consisted of only three words, and three shorter words you would scarcely find together anywhere in your Bible. They were these: "And he died."
There are eight old men spoken of in the chapter. One of them lived to be 777 years old, more than ten times as old as men of full age now; but the end came, "and he died." That was Lamech, the son of the oldest man that ever lived, and the grandson of a man who never died at all. But Lamech died.
Another of these old men, Mahalaleel, lived to be 895 years of age; yet we read, "and he died."
Enos, his grandfather, lived ten years longer; but "he died."
His son surpassed him by five years. This was Cain-an; but he also "died." Cainan was a most remarkable man, for about 250 years before his death he could have said what no man but he could ever say: that he was the great-grandson of a man who had never been born (Adam, whom God created) and that his own great-grandson had gone to heaven, but had never died (Enoch, whom God translated). But as I have said, "he died."
Seth, the brother of Cain and Abel, lived no less than 912 years, "and he died."
Adam lived 930 years, but he had no childhood and no youth. Created full-grown, it would appear that the years of his manhood were therefore more in number than those of any man who ever lived; yet of him also it is recorded, "and he died." Physical death had been pronounced of God to be the direct effect, both to him and to his seed, of the sin he had committed. This chapter is full of the testimony which each death afforded of the truth of the divine verdict and the reality of the divine penalty upon man's transgression.
Jared, the father of Enoch, lived to be 962, "and he died." But Methuselah, Enoch's son, lived to the unprecedented age of 969—lived to be nearly a thousand years old. If one were to live to such an age now, men would say he would live forever; but God never forgets. It is appointed unto men to die, and even Methuselah was no exception; for we read, "and he died."
These eight old men lived on an average over 900 years each. But they died, every one of them; and he who listened to the brief narrative of their lives and their death, felt so deeply impressed with the fact that he also must die, indeed, the Spirit of God so drove these three words eight times over in upon his soul, that he could never forget nor escape them. His conscience was stirred to its depths. The plowshare had penetrated his soul, and He who made those deep furrows did not forget to pour the oil and the wine of His richest, sweetest grace into the gaping wounds He had made.
The Savior's precious love and the value of His most precious blood were apprehended by faith. The sinner's heart melted under the discovery that God in grace had given His Son to die on behalf of dying men who were on the highway to an eternal hell. This gave peace to his conscience, and rest to his never dying soul. He who did that work became thenceforth an object, a worthy, blessed object, for the present and eternal rest of his heart.