Berĕshith (Genesis) Chapter 5

“This is the book of the genealogy of Adam. In the day that Elohim created man, He made him in the likeness of Elohim. Male and female He created them, and He blessed them and called their name Adam in the day they were created.” {Bereshith 5:1–2}

Even though this chapter begins with the phrase “the genealogy of Adam”, Scripture instead chooses to insert a flashback about creation itself. Humanity is again described as being made “in the likeness of Elohim.” Male and female are mentioned together but this time, Scripture says this: “He called their name Adam.”

Interestingly, not his name but their name.

Scripture seems to be reminding us that “Adam” did not merely represent an individual at the beginning but possibly a shared human identity. Male and female together carried that name ‘in the day’ they were created.

And now, by tracing biological descent, perhaps we are being reminded of something deeper: humanity began in likeness before it continued in lineage.

“And Adam lived one hundred and thirty years, and brought forth a son in his own likeness, after his image, and called his name Sheth.” {Bereshith 5:3}

And then something subtle seems to shift in this verse. In the beginning, humanity was created in the likeness of Elohim. But now, Adam brings forth a son in his own likeness.

The wording echoes the earlier creation language but with a different source. This is the first time Scripture records a human being passing on their image to another.

Life continues, but the transmission now moves through human lineage.

And the son named is Sheth.

Scripture does not mention Qayin (the first born) here nor was there any reference made to Hebel. Only that the genealogy moves forward through the line that follows the rupture of the previous chapter.

“And after he brought forth Sheth, the days of Adam were eight hundred years, and he brought forth sons and daughters. So all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years, and he died.” {Bereshith 5:4-5}

Adam had sons and daughters. Many of them, it seems and most of their names are not recorded. Scripture moves quickly past them, focusing only on the line that continues the story it intends to tell.

This is a humbling reminder that Scripture is selective. Not every life is narrated. This makes me feel like the genealogy we are reading is not the full human record but a chosen thread.

Then suddenly, for the first time in this chapter (and Bereshith, for that matter), the sobering sentence appears that will repeat again and again: “And he died.”

The genealogy will continue listing years, births, and descendants. But each life ends with the same conclusion.

And he died.

The pattern begins quietly but soon becomes impossible to ignore and what once entered the human story in the garden now echoes through every generation. And to this day, while life continues, death must follow every time.

Scripture now moves through generations with a steady rhythm:

Sheth lives, fathers Enosh, and then that line appears again. And he died.

Enosh fathers Kenan. And he died.

Kenan fathers Mahalalel. And he died.

Mahalalel fathers Yared. And he died.

Each generation repeats the same structure where years are recorded, children are born, time passes and the lineage continues. Yet the final line remains unchanged.

And he died.

The repetition begins to feel almost liturgical, as though Scripture is quietly reemphasizing something unavoidable.

Humanity multiplies. But the shadow introduced in Eden remains present in every generation.

“And Hanok walked with Elohim after he brought forth Methushelah three hundred years, and brought forth sons and daughters.” {Bereshith 5:22}

It feels like a break in rhythm to see, for the first time in this chapter, a life is described relationally rather than chronologically. Hanok walked with Elohim.

I really wish Scripture gave more details about what this looked like but it doesn’t.

No event was described (here). No speech was recorded (again, here). And no law is given (yet). Just a seemingly quiet summary of the relationship: he walked.

In general, one could say that walking suggests proximity and movement together with a shared direction over time. It is not a moment of encounter but possibly an intentional pattern of life.

“So all the days of Hanok were three hundred and sixty-five years. And Hanok walked with Elohim, and he was not, for Elohim took him.” {Bereshith 5:23-24}

So, Hanok lives 365 years, far shorter than the other patriarchs listed before and after him. While the others approach nine hundred years, Hanok’s life ends much earlier.

And yet this is the only life in the chapter described in terms of relationship with Elohim.

Then, Scripture does not say: “And he died.” but instead it says:

“He was not, for Elohim took him.”

Unfortunately, Scripture offers no explanation beyond that. There is no description of how nor any narrative surrounding the event. Just gone!

This event is strangely positioned in the middle of a genealogy dominated by death, and Hanok’s story seems to stand like a brief interruption in the pattern.

“And Methushelaḥ lived one hundred and eighty-seven years, and brought forth Lemeḵ.” {Bereshith 5:25}

Then the genealogy resumes.

Scripture describes Methushelah as living longer than any other name in the chapter. Nine hundred and sixty-nine years. The longest recorded lifespan in Scripture.

And yet his story ends the same way. And he died.

But even though this pattern continues through Lemeḵ, his lifespan ends with a number that almost feels symbolic. Seven hundred and seventy-seven years.

This is a number layered with repetition and completion.

“And Lemeḵ called his name Noaḥ, saying, ‘This one does comfort us concerning our work and the toil of our hands, because of the ground which YAHUAH has cursed.’” {Bereshith 5:29}

For the first time in several generations, Scripture records a parent speaking when naming a child. Lemeḵ names his son Noaḥ, meaning “rest” or “comfort”.

And his words reveal something about the condition of the world they were living in:

Work was still marked by toil and the ground was still remembered as cursed.

The effects of the earlier rupture had not disappeared but for some reason, hope appears here in the form of expectation.

“This one will comfort us.”

Lemeḵ sees something in the birth of his son that suggests relief might be coming. But what?

Scripture does not explain how but only records the hope.

“And Noaḥ was five hundred years old, and Noaḥ brought forth Shem, Ham, and Yapheth.’” {Bereshith 5:32}

And with this, the genealogy ends by pointing forward. Three sons are named.

It seems like the pattern of generations continues but something about the pacing has changed. In a chapter that repeated “and he died” over and over again, it finally concludes by introducing the family through whom the next movement of the story will unfold.

The genealogy that began by reminding us humanity was made in the likeness of Elohim now ends standing at the edge of something new.