Waters Above, Waters Below: An Exegetical Study of Water in the Bible

Water is one of Scripture’s most elastic and theologically charged images. In the Bible it is never merely “background.” It is creation material, boundary marker, threat, judgment, mercy, provision, cleansing, wisdom, Spirit, and eschatological gift. The biblical writers return to water again and again because water sits at the intersection of life and death. It nourishes fields and fills wells, but it also swallows armies and returns ordered creation to chaos. The result is a motif that cannot be flattened into one meaning. Water in the Bible is polyvalent, but it is not random. Across the canon, the motif develops in discernible patterns: waters of chaos, waters restrained, waters crossed, waters provided, waters purifying, and finally waters transformed into the river of life.[1]

A faithful reading should resist both sentimental reduction and wooden literalism. In the Hebrew Bible especially, water is bound to ancient cosmology, covenant memory, liturgical imagination, and temple symbolism. It also sits inside the shared symbolic world of the ancient Near East, where primeval waters often represented the unstable deep from which ordered life had to emerge.[2] Yet Israel’s Scriptures repeatedly subvert that wider world. Genesis does not portray YHWH as one deity among others struggling against an equal rival. The deep is there, but it is already under God’s sovereign presence. The Spirit hovers. The word speaks. Chaos is not God’s competitor. It is raw material beneath divine rule.[3]

Genesis 1 begins with darkness over “the deep,” tehom (תְּהוֹם), and the Spirit of God hovering over the waters.[4] Much has been written about the relation between tehom and older ANE watery imagery. At minimum, the comparison helps us see the conceptual world in which Israel spoke about cosmic waters. Mesopotamian and West Semitic traditions often imagined a primordial watery reality, sometimes personified, from which ordered space emerged.[5] The biblical text participates in that larger symbolic world while sharply refusing mythic dualism. There is no theogony in Genesis 1, no divine combat scene, and no uncertainty about the outcome. God does not become sovereign by defeating the waters. He is sovereign before the first fiat.[6]

This matters because Genesis frames creation first as an act of distinction and boundary. The waters are separated, the sea is gathered, dry land appears, and only then do fertility and habitation flourish.[7] The logic is profoundly theological. To create is not only to make matter but to assign place, limit, and vocation. Water is thus linked to the question of order. When it remains unbounded, it threatens inhabitable life; when it is bounded by the Creator, it becomes the condition for fruitfulness.[8] The ANE background sharpens this point. In surrounding cultures, the cosmic sea could signal the unstable margin of reality. In Genesis, those same cosmic associations are absorbed into a monotheistic confession: the waters are not divine, not ultimate, and not free to transgress the speech of God unless he permits it.[9]

The imagery of “waters above” and “waters below” also belongs within that ancient cosmological frame. Psalm 148 can still summon “the waters above the heavens” to praise YHWH because the biblical writers share, at the level of phenomenological cosmology, the older picture of a structured world with waters above the firmament and seas below the land.[10] The interpreter must let the text inhabit its own symbolic universe before domesticating it into modern meteorology.[11] The point is not whether Israel possessed modern hydrology. The point is that Israel confessed the God who rules every level of the cosmos as they understood it. The upper waters, lower waters, springs, seas, rivers, and rains all belong to his kingship.[12]

Because water is tied to primordial disorder, the flood becomes more than punishment. It is de-creation. Genesis 7 does not merely say that it rained a lot. The “fountains of the great deep” burst forth and the windows of heaven open, as if the separations of Genesis 1 are reversed.[13] Ordered space collapses back toward the watery abyss. This is why flood language in Scripture often carries more than historical memory; it becomes a grammar of undoing. When human violence fills the earth, creation itself seems to retreat toward the deep.[14]

Second Temple literature extends this line of thought. Jubilees retells the flood with intensified cosmic structure, speaking of the opening of the floodgates of heaven and the mouths of the great deep until the whole world is filled with water.[15] 1 Enoch likewise uses abyss imagery to describe terrifying zones of divine judgment and cosmic disorder.[16] These texts do not invent the symbolism; they amplify what is already present in Genesis. The deep is not neutral. It is a place where God’s judgment is revealed against corruption and rebellion.[17]

This also helps explain why drowning imagery in the Psalms can function as more than a metaphor for personal distress. When the psalmist cries, “the waters have come up to my neck,” or asks not to be swallowed by the deep, he is not merely describing emotional overload.[18] He is speaking from within Israel’s symbolic world, where water can signify the collapse of stable life into the anti-world of chaos, shame, abandonment, and death.[19] In Psalm 69, the drowning image is existential, yes, but it is existential because it is cosmological first. To be overwhelmed by the waters is to feel creation itself coming apart around you.[20]

If Genesis and the flood establish water as a symbol of chaos, the exodus reveals another crucial pattern: God saves not only from the waters but through them. Israel’s crossing of the sea is a new creation event. Waters divide. Dry land appears. A people emerges alive on the other side while the imperial power that sought to unmake them is swallowed by the same waters.[21] The sea is thus double-sided. For Pharaoh it is judgment; for Israel it is deliverance. The same element that destroys the oppressor becomes the corridor of covenant freedom for the oppressed.[22]

The prophets and poets draw deeply on this memory. Isaiah can speak of YHWH making a path through the sea and link that memory to future redemption.[23] Psalm 74 and Isaiah 51 also connect watery chaos with dragon imagery, presenting YHWH as the one who masters the sea and breaks the heads of the monsters.[24] These texts do not simply repeat Canaanite combat myths; they repurpose chaotic-sea language to proclaim YHWH’s unrivaled kingship in history. Pharaoh can be described as a dragon in the Nile because empire itself becomes a historical embodiment of the chaotic waters.[25]

In Scripture, chaos is not always private. Sometimes it is political. Sometimes the waters are imperial. Sometimes the flood comes with chariots, brick quotas, propaganda, and bloodshed. Water imagery can therefore operate as anti-empire theology. The God who set limits on the sea is the same God who sets limits on the kingdoms that exalt themselves.[26]

Yet Scripture does not leave water primarily in the register of danger. In the patriarchal narratives, water often appears as the means by which covenant life is sustained in a hostile land. Wells matter because survival matters. Hagar and Ishmael are preserved when God opens Hagar’s eyes to a well in the wilderness.[27] Isaac’s servants find “living water” (mayim chayyim) and their dispute over wells becomes a narrative about conflict, inheritance, and finally divine spaciousness at Rehoboth.[28] Water here is not abstract spirituality. It is the concrete mercy of God in dry places.

That phrase, mayim chayyim, becomes especially important. In its immediate setting it refers to fresh, flowing water rather than stagnant water.[29] But as the canon unfolds, “living water” becomes a bridge image linking practical sustenance, ritual purity, wisdom, and divine presence. The symbolic development works precisely because the physical referent is so vital. Israel does not spiritualize water by abandoning materiality. It moves from material necessity to theological depth.[30]

Pay attention to these patterns: creation waters, wilderness water, patriarchal wells, and later prophetic and wisdom texts belong to one thick symbolic network.[31] Water is often the site where sight itself is restored. Hagar sees the well only after God opens her eyes. That detail deserves more attention than it usually gets. In the Bible, access to life-giving water is often a matter of revelation as much as geography.[32]

Water in the Hebrew Bible is also priestly. Ritual washings, laver imagery, and purity regulations locate water within Israel’s liturgical life.[33] To modern readers, this can seem merely hygienic or ceremonial, but the logic is more profound. Water mediates re-entry into ordered sacred space. If impurity symbolizes a breach, then washing dramatizes restoration. The priestly use of water is thus deeply creational: it marks a return from disorder to fitness for proximity.[34]

This priestly and temple dimension becomes even clearer in later texts. Ezekiel’s temple vision culminates in water flowing from the sanctuary, deepening as it moves, healing the Dead Sea and turning barrenness into life.[35] The image is extraordinary. Water no longer merely supports the sanctuary from outside; it proceeds from the sanctuary as restorative force. Temple and Eden converge. The source of holy presence becomes the source of renewed creation.[36]

Second Temple texts carry this symbolism forward in ways that illuminate the New Testament. Ben Sira associates wisdom and Torah with river imagery, comparing her abundance to the great rivers and presenting instruction as a kind of overflowing life-source.[37] Qumran literature intensifies the purification imagery by pairing washing with the Spirit and truth. The Community Rule can speak of being cleansed by “the Spirit of truth” like waters of purification, signaling that mere external washing without covenant fidelity is insufficient.[38] Archaeological and textual evidence from Qumran also shows that natural water and ritual baths were central to the community’s life, reinforcing the overlap between purity practice and theological identity.[39]

This is one reason John’s baptism lands with such force in the Gospels. It emerges in a Jewish world already saturated with water symbolism: creation, exodus, wilderness, purification, repentance, and eschatological expectation.[40] John is not inventing the importance of water. He is staging Israel’s need for new passage, new cleansing, and new readiness for the kingdom.[41]

The biblical tradition also links water to instruction. Isaiah 55’s invitation, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters,” is not only about refreshment but about covenant hearing and reception of God’s word.[42] Sirach portrays wisdom as flowing like rivers, and later Jewish tradition repeatedly compares Torah to water because both descend, both purify, both sustain life, and both are available to the thirsty.[43] Some of the material gathered on Sefaria makes this rabbinic instinct explicit: as water revives, Torah revives; as water purifies, Torah purifies.[44]

Water is not only a private devotional symbol; it is tied to obedience, lament, cleansing, and communal life before God.[45] Psalm 119’s streams of water from the eyes are not generic sadness but grief over Torah violation.[46] Tears themselves become a kind of moral water, a protest against disorder in the covenant world. There is something deeply shepherding here. In Scripture, holy grief is not emotional excess. It is fidelity feeling the fracture of creation.[47]

By the time we come to the New Testament, the water motif is already richly layered. Jesus enters that symbolic world and gathers its threads into himself. He is baptized in the Jordan, walks on the sea, stills the storm, offers living water to the Samaritan woman, speaks of rivers flowing from within believers, and stands within the tradition that identifies divine wisdom and Torah as life-giving provision.[48]

John 4 is especially important. Jesus does not dismiss physical water; he uses the well, the woman, and the thirst of Samaria to reveal a deeper source.[49] The Bible Project’s observation that the passage also carries nuptial overtones is compelling, especially when read against biblical well-scenes and covenant imagery.[50] The one who asks for water is the true bridegroom offering the life of the age to come. In John 7, that offer is explicitly linked to the Spirit.[51] Living water is no longer simply fresh spring water or even wisdom instruction; it is the life of God communicated through the Messiah and the Spirit.

Even Jesus’ mastery of the sea should be read in canonical context. He does not merely perform power. He treads upon what earlier texts associated with the untamed deep.[52] The One through whom all things were made stands over the waters that once threatened the world. In him, the old symbolism reaches its christological center.[53]

The biblical story ends not with the abolition of water but with its transfiguration. Revelation can say that “the sea was no more,” which in context signals the end of chaos, death, and threat rather than a simple hydrological claim.[54] At the same time, Revelation 22 presents the river of the water of life flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.[55] What began as the deep over which the Spirit hovered ends as a river proceeding from the divine throne. The canonical arc is remarkable: chaotic waters are not merely suppressed; life-giving waters are finally universalized.

Second Temple apocalyptic literature helps us feel the force of that transformation. In 4 Ezra the sea can still symbolize the realm from which terrifying empire rises.[56] In Revelation, by contrast, the final city has no need to fear such a sea. The anti-creation element is gone, but the life-giving element remains and expands. The Bible’s final water image is neither flood nor abyss but river, healing, and abundance.[57]

A pastoral reading of water in Scripture must hold both edges together. Water is not sentimental in the Bible. It can drown, judge, and unmake. But neither is it merely threatening. It cleanses, feeds, opens barren futures, and flows from the sanctuary of God into a dead world. In a canonical sense, water becomes one of the Bible’s clearest witnesses to the pattern of creation, fall, redemption, and new creation.

That means many of us misread our lives when we assume the presence of “deep waters” means God has abandoned us. In Scripture, God often does his most decisive work at the edge of the sea, at the mouth of the well, in the wilderness without water, or in the river one must cross. He is the God who orders the deep, divides the sea, opens eyes to wells, washes the unclean, and finally gives the water of life without price.[58]

The set-apart task, then, is not to deny the chaos of the waters but to teach the saints to recognize the One who still hovers over them.


  1. For the broad biblical pattern of water as chaos, salvation, and baptismal imagery, see BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters,” June 25, 2018; BibleProject, “Crossing the Chaotic Waters,” April 16, 2018; and BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters and Baptism,” April 23, 2018.
  2. On cosmic waters and ANE cosmology, see “Ancient Near Eastern Cosmology,” especially the sections on the upper waters, firmament, and separation of heaven and earth.
  3. On Genesis’ presentation of chaotic waters as uncreation under God’s rule, see BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters”; and Ryan Lu, The Deification and Demonization of Tĕhôm, chap. 1.
  4. On tehom and Genesis 1:2, see Sefaria’s presentation of Genesis 1:6–12 and the discussion of watery deep in intertextual comparison with Jubilees.
  5. For ANE parallels involving primordial waters, the cosmic ocean, and later Babylonian imagery, see “Ancient Near Eastern Cosmology” and the Brill essay “A Short History of the Waters Above.”
  6. On the absence of divine combat in Genesis 1 and the text’s monotheistic subversion of mythic patterns, see BibleProject, “A Mountain Rising From the Chaos Waters,” Nov. 4, 2024; and BioLogos, “Deep Space and the Dome of Heaven,” Jan. 13, 2016.
  7. Genesis 1:6–12 in Sefaria explicitly presents creation through separation, gathering, and the appearance of dry land.
  8. BibleProject, “Rivers Flowing Upward,” June 14, 2021, highlights how God transforms the chaos waters into waters full of life potential in Genesis 1–2.
  9. On the firmament as a boundary containing upper waters, see “Firmament”; and BioLogos, “What Are the Waters Above the Firmament?” Feb. 6, 2026.
  10. For the persistence of the “waters above” motif in biblical cosmology, see Skip Moen, “In Its Cultural Context,” Dec. 24, 2014.
  11. Ibid. Moen explicitly argues that Psalm 148’s “waters above the heavens” should be read in ancient cosmological context rather than translated into modern meteorological categories.
  12. On the layered cosmos and divine rule over all realms, see “Ancient Near Eastern Cosmology”; and “Biblical Cosmology.”
  13. On the flood as a reversal of Genesis 1’s separations, see BibleProject, “Why Did God Flood the World?” Nov. 12, 2019.
  14. Ibid.; see also BibleProject, “Crossing the Chaotic Waters.”
  15. Book of Jubilees 5, on the opening of the floodgates of heaven and the fountains of the great deep.
  16. On abyss imagery in 1 Enoch, see The Book of Enoch, CCEL edition; and Britannica, “First Book of Enoch.”
  17. On Enoch and Jubilees as Second Temple witnesses to amplified cosmic and judgment imagery, see Britannica, “The Book of Enoch”; and Britannica, “Dead Sea Scrolls: The Scrolls in Context.”
  18. Skip Moen, “Death by Drowning,” Nov. 17, 2023; and “Let Me Reiterate,” Nov. 28, 2023.
  19. On the deep in biblical lament and its relation to chaos, see Lu, The Deification and Demonization of Tĕhôm; and BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters.”
  20. Moen, “Death by Drowning”; Moen, “Let Me Reiterate.”
  21. BibleProject, “Crossing the Chaotic Waters,” explains the Red Sea crossing as a re-creation moment in which waters divide and dry land appears.
  22. On the same waters saving Israel and judging Egypt, see BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters and Baptism.”
  23. Isaiah’s reuse of exodus-through-water imagery is summarized in BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters and Baptism.”
  24. On dragon and chaos-sea imagery in biblical poetry, see BibleProject, “Dragons in the Bible.”
  25. Ibid. The resource explicitly notes how the biblical authors apply dragon imagery to violent rulers such as Pharaoh.
  26. On sea imagery and empire in apocalyptic and prophetic traditions, see BibleProject, “Dragons in the Bible”; and “Biblical Cosmology.”
  27. Genesis 21:14–20 in Sefaria presents Hagar’s wilderness crisis and God’s opening of her eyes to a well.
  28. Genesis 26:18–22 in Sefaria records Isaac’s rediscovered wells, the finding of “living water,” and the naming of Rehoboth.
  29. On “living water” as fresh, flowing water in the Hebrew Bible and Jewish tradition, see Sefaria sheet “Mayim, Mayim! Ten Wet Jewish Texts.”
  30. For the canonical development of “living water” into later theological usage, compare Genesis well texts in Sefaria with John material in BibleProject, “Jesus Offers Living Water and… Marriage?”
  31. Sefaria Voices sheet, “Water in the Hebrew Bible,” gathers creation, wilderness, and well passages into a sustained interpretive arc.
  32. Genesis 21:19 emphasizes that Hagar sees the well only after God opens her eyes.
  33. On ritual water and Jewish purification practice in the Second Temple world, see “Dead Sea Scrolls Overview,” especially the discussion of Qumran’s water system and mikva’ot.
  34. On water and purification in the Qumran context, see BYU, “From the Dead Sea Scrolls (1QS),” and the Diva-Portal study on 1QS.
  35. Ezekiel’s temple-river imagery is a standard backdrop for later living-water theology; for a concise intertextual treatment, see BibleProject, “Why Water Matters in the Bible.”
  36. On temple, Eden, and life-giving waters in biblical cosmology, see BibleProject, “Rivers Flowing Upward”; and “The Symbolism of Mountains in the Bible.”
  37. Sirach 24 compares wisdom to the great rivers and speaks of instruction in watery terms. See USCCB, Sirach 24; and BibleGateway, Sirach 24 RSV.
  38. On 1QS’s language of the Spirit of truth and waters of purification, see Brill, “The Notion of the Spirit in the Dead Sea Scrolls”; and Diva-Portal, A Synchronic Approach to the Serek ha-Yahad.
  39. On water installations and natural water requirements at Qumran, see “Dead Sea Scrolls Overview.”
  40. On John’s immersion as a Jewish purification practice with moral and eschatological force, see Journal for the Study of the New Testament, “John’s Immersions: Ritual Purification, but from What?” Sept. 26, 2024.
  41. On John’s proximity to wilderness and Qumran-like symbolism, see “John the Baptist, Qumran and the Voice in the Wilderness.”
  42. On Isaiah 55’s invitation as covenantal and not merely physical, see the broader Jewish scriptural tradition comparing Torah and water in Sefaria’s “Mayim, Mayim!” sheet.
  43. Sirach 24 and later Jewish sources explicitly compare wisdom and Torah to rivers and life-giving water.
  44. Sefaria, “Water, Source of Life,” preserves rabbinic analogies between water and Torah, including purification, life, and divine speech.
  45. Skip Moen repeatedly reads water language through Torah, lament, and Hebraic covenant consciousness; see “Continental Divide,” “Let Me Reiterate,” and “Death by Drowning.”
  46. Moen, “Continental Divide,” on Psalm 119:136 and the moral force of tear imagery tied to lawlessness.
  47. Ibid.
  48. On Jesus’ living-water discourse and its relation to Spirit and biblical imagery, see BibleProject, “Jesus Offers Living Water and… Marriage?” and the YouTube summary “Water in the Bible—What Does Water Represent in the Bible.”
  49. BibleProject, “Jesus Offers Living Water and… Marriage?” explicitly frames John 4 within the biblical story of water and covenant life.
  50. Ibid.
  51. On living water as Spirit in Johannine theology, see BibleProject, “Jesus Offers Living Water and… Marriage?” and the YouTube overview “The Symbolism of Water in the Bible: Deep Dive into Biblical Imagery.”
  52. On sea imagery as chaos and Jesus’ authority over it in light of the biblical motif, see BibleProject, “Chaotic Waters”; and “Crossing the Chaotic Waters.”
  53. Ibid.
  54. On “the sea was no more” as theological imagery tied to the end of chaos, see “Biblical Cosmology”; and BibleProject, “Dragons in the Bible.”
  55. On the river of life flowing from the throne as the Bible’s final water image, compare Revelation’s canonical pattern summarized in BibleProject’s water resources.
  56. Britannica dates the central portion of 4 Ezra to around AD 100, and the text famously depicts a terrifying kingdom rising from the sea. See Britannica, “Second Book of Esdras”; and 4 Ezra at Pseudepigrapha.com.
  57. On the contrast between apocalyptic sea-threat and final life-river, compare 4 Ezra’s sea-beast imagery with Revelation’s river-of-life pattern summarized in BibleProject resources.
  58. For the canonical movement from thirst to gift, chaos to life, and exile to restoration, see Sefaria’s “Water in the Hebrew Bible,” BibleProject’s water resources, and the user-provided article “Biblical Meaning of Water: 7 Symbolic Interpretations Explored.”

Alter, Robert. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. 3 vols. New York: W. W. Norton, 2019.

Arnold, Bill T., and Brent A. Strawn, eds. The World around the Old Testament: The People and Places of the Ancient Near East. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2016.

Beale, G. K. The Temple and the Church’s Mission: A Biblical Theology of the Dwelling Place of God. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004.

Brodie, Thomas L. Genesis as Dialogue: A Literary, Historical, and Theological Commentary. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Collins, John J. Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in the Hellenistic Diaspora. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000.

Collins, John J. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016.

Day, John. God’s Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea: Echoes of a Canaanite Myth in the Old Testament. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985.

Fishbane, Michael. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985.

Gunkel, Hermann. Creation and Chaos in the Primeval Era and the Eschaton: A Religio-Historical Study of Genesis 1 and Revelation 12. Translated by K. William Whitney Jr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006.

Heiser, Michael S. The Unseen Realm: Recovering the Supernatural Worldview of the Bible. Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015.

Himmelfarb, Martha. Tours of Hell: An Apocalyptic Form in Jewish and Christian Literature. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1983.

Hundley, Michael B. Gods in Dwellings: Temples and Divine Presence in the Ancient Near East. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2013.

Keel, Othmar. The Symbolism of the Biblical World: Ancient Near Eastern Iconography and the Book of Psalms. Translated by Timothy J. Hallett. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1997.

Kraus, Hans-Joachim. Psalms 1–59. Translated by Hilton C. Oswald. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

Kraus, Hans-Joachim. Psalms 60–150. Translated by Hilton C. Oswald. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

Levenson, Jon D. Creation and the Persistence of Evil: The Jewish Drama of Divine Omnipotence. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988.

Longman, Tremper III. Genesis. Story of God Bible Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016.

Mathews, Kenneth A. Genesis 1–11:26. New American Commentary 1A. Nashville: B&H, 1996.

Midrash Rabbah. Genesis Rabbah. Translated by H. Freedman and Maurice Simon. London: Soncino, 1939.

Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible 3. New York: Doubleday, 1991.

Moberly, R. W. L. The Theology of the Book of Genesis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.

Newsom, Carol A. The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran. Leiden: Brill, 2004.

Nickelsburg, George W. E. 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36; 81–108. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001.

Nickelsburg, George W. E., and James C. VanderKam. 1 Enoch 2: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 37–82. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2012.

Reed, Annette Yoshiko. Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Smith, Mark S. The Origins of Biblical Monotheism: Israel’s Polytheistic Background and the Ugaritic Texts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Smith, Mark S. The Priestly Vision of Genesis 1. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2010.

Sparks, Kenton L. Ancient Texts for the Study of the Hebrew Bible: A Guide to the Background Literature. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2005.

Stuckenbruck, Loren T. 1 Enoch 91–108. Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007.

Sweeney, Marvin A. I & II Kings: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2007.

The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983–1985.

VanderKam, James C. Jubilees. 2 vols. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2018.

VanderKam, James C. The Book of Jubilees. Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001.

Walton, John H. Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament: Introducing the Conceptual World of the Hebrew Bible. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2018.

Walton, John H. The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2009.

Walton, John H., and Tremper Longman III. The Lost World of the Flood: Mythology, Theology, and the Deluge Debate. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2018.

Wenham, Gordon J. Genesis 1–15. Word Biblical Commentary 1. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1987.

Wright, N. T. John for Everyone, Part 1: Chapters 1–10. 2nd ed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2004.

Did Satan and the other spiritual beings “fall?”

If you read my article earlier this month on Demons, you will know that I lean somewhere close to Walton in my views of demonology but still gravitate towards a “fall” of spiritual beings, which Walton would not describe in that sense. Walton points out that the bible doesn’t specifically use the word “fall” and Adam and Eve don’t actually “fall” in the sense of being cast out or demoted. I think he has made some great points to this regard, and I completely agree. In our original sin x44 series we brought out many of these points. He would then make the point that the bible actually never says that any of the spiritual being’s “fall” either. In my mind that one is a bit more controversial and where I slightly see things differently. I see a Deuteronomy 32 (Heiser) worldview in a sense of several other “falls” primarily concerned with spiritual beings which also involves human beings.

As a precursor to this conversation, I don’t necessarily like the term “fall” to describe Adam and Eve (as well as the serpent’s) banishment from the garden for many reasons, but I get the terminology traditionally applied. I do however see spiritual beings “falling” in the sense that they were created by the hand of God and are no longer aligned with Him in the heavenly cosmos. Therefore, I am ok with calling this a “dual fall” as people traditionally would understand it, to describe the free will intention of being’s pursuit away from God. In this sense we might think of it as God being high in the heavens, and the things of the world being low in an earthly realm. You might even describe a third realm as something associated with an underworld. In that sense, I am fine using the traditional term “fall” to describe what has happened to distance beings further from God’s sacred space. Even Walton titles a chapter “the fall” in his latest book simply because people know what we are referring to when we use the term.

DECONSTRUCTION: The Bible mentions Satan and spiritual beings, but it doesn’t actually give us much, and we likely conclude that we simply don’t have all those answers here. We don’t know what all the spiritual beings are, where they are now, and what has happened and will happen to them. We don’t have that story. What we do have is a different story about God’s covenant love to us that includes a few interesting things about spiritual beings along the way. What does the Bible give us in order to influence or make a faithful deduction from? We have a story of God’s unyielding covenant plan for us, the rest might be cloaked. 1

This post comes after a long awaited conversation on x44 with John Walton in regard to his new book, New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Advances in the Origins Debate (The Lost World Series) (https://amzn.to/3G7zLFG) which was released on April 15, 2025 by IVP.

It is a fantastic read. One of my all-time favorites.

To be clear, the book explores a lot of areas that I don’t address here. This article is meant to address one part of the book, – the fall, which has been a personal interest of mine most of my life. In our interview we also approach theses subject matters:

Genesis 1: order and function

  • Previous material overview 
  • New explorations in the first creation account
  • What is each day about?
  • Image of God- what is it about?
  • Creation out of nothing?

Genesis 1: Cosmic temple and rest

  • Previous material overview
  • Spreading order vs Spreading sacred space
  • Ruling vs relaxing on the 7th day
  • 7 day inauguration?
  • Literary vs. Chronology
  • what does this means for human priesthood?

Genesis 2: The Garden and Trees

  • Previous material overview
  • Should we consider the garden to be a pristine paradise?
  • Should we think that we are headed back to eden (Revelation does have some parallels to the Gen 2 account)

Genesis 2: Adam and Eve

  • Previous material overview
  • Nakedness and the clothing of flesh
  • What does it mean that they are archetypes? Does this mean they were not “real”?
  • Humans created immortal?
  • Were they “perfect”?

Genesis 3: The Fall

  • Previous material overview
  • Serpent- How should we understand his role?
  • Death before the fall?
  • Is the origin of sin the focus of Gen 3? Are Adam and Eve being punished for sin?
  • Romans 5- How is Paul using the Gen 3 account there?

Genesis 3: The Pronouncement

  • What is going on in Gen 3:16?
  • Should we consider it messianic?
  • Why the guardian with the sword?

Genesis and science (we actually didn’t get into this because we have discussed it with him several other times in other interviews.)

  • Previous material overview
  • What are some of your new explorations in this area?
  • Is the Bible compatible with evolutionary models (godless models)?
  • Is there a war between science and the Bible?

Here is a link to our video interview which is also embedded below.

If I have learned one thing from John over the years, it is to approach the interpretation of scripture more faithfully. This one is a lifelong endeavor of joy, and I am still learning! He starts out his latest work similar to his other works giving a methodology to his study, but in this case, he denotes over 50 pages to it rather than just a few. I won’t do that here (but I love what he does in the book to teach a better framework before he launches into it.), I do think we need to set the table slightly here before we start this discussion as well. Some think Walton is controversial. I don’t. As you read this article you are going to find that I nearly completely agree with him, especially in a purely exegetical sense, however – I desire to make more ontological, philosophical, and theological deductions than he might be willing to do. I will say that I think those that find him controversial fall into three camps. 1.) They want to be traditional and feel they are “standing strong.” I don’t have a lot of room for this take on the Bible. Essentially it is those that are willing to put tradition over the exegesis of the text. 2.) You don’t really have sound hermeneutics; you don’t understand the parameters. I think there is a good deal of this. People that don’t have sound framework or a good theological lens of the Bible. They don’t have the Bible in harmony. 3.) They just want a debate. I have some good friends in apologetics but honestly, I can’t stand the hierarchical “want to prove something” debating within primarily the evangelical circles. I think we need to get back to the edification of the church through a positive Mars Hill style teaching. Walton is very good here. I think there are 2-3 theologians that are ahead of their time that we will be reading in 100 years (such as we do with CS Lewis) and Walton might very well be the best we have.

Genesis 3 and the fall is difficult to interpret for many reasons. One of which is because you first might need to interpret Genesis 1 & 2 and decide whether you land in the recursive or sequential camp, believe it or not there will be implications along the way. It is also quite interesting because we have the Adam and Eve narrative in Genesis 3 and from that point on, we never hear anything else about it in the rest of the OT, and barely in the new. Chapter 3 is also sometimes interpreted under a poetic lens which might belong to a speculative type of wisdom literature that questions the paradoxes and harsh realities of life. This characterization is determined by the narrative’s format, settings, and the plot. The form of Genesis 3 is also shaped by its vocabulary, making use of various puns and double entendres.2 Furthermore, the Hebrew of a few words really does matter, and I would argue that we can’t arrive at an exact meaning for many reasons. The serpent, is identified in Genesis 3:1 as an animal that was more crafty than any other animal made by God.3 The Hebrew arum עָר֔וּם (Gen 3:1), is traditionally translated “crafty/shrewd” but could be connected linguistically with Genesis 2:25  עָרוֹם (arom) sharing the same root word.4  In this sense, traditionally the text has been read with a connotation of mental “nakedness” (innocence), yielding a more direct antonym for “shrewd” and heightening the irony. Then to complicate matters further, you have the realization that these words in the older Hebrew had no vowel signs which could render them to be understood slightly differently. Some might say this becomes a study of Philology. The Masoretic Texts and LXX are useful to fix meanings of terms and expressions, but they also are not the Gospel. I spend a lot of time describing contranym language in the ancient texts in blogs here so if you are a regular x44 watcher/reader, you will be tracking. Finally, if we are reading the narrative as if it intended to primarily communicate the origin of sin, I would question your doctrinal premises. All this said, I still believe we can come to a faithful “take away” of the text.

Was the spiritual being (serpent) in the Garden of Eden Satan? Of course, tradition and extra biblical sources tell us that, but do we really get that from the pages of scripture? The Bible doesn’t give us that in the same regard that it doesn’t tell us that the challenger in Job is Satan. If you believe either of those it would be a deduction from somewhere else, the text itself doesn’t render those takeaways. Walton calls the serpent a chaos creature that he doesn’t frame as evil. He says, “The serpent never suggests that they should eat the fruit, though by questioning what reasons they have for not doings so, it leads them (Adam and Eve) in that Direction… (the serpent) serves in the role of catalyst. It should not be identified as a tempter, nor should it should not be considered inherently evil. Certainly, it should not be seen as an evil force already in the world. “5 So, I agree with most of what Walton says here. We have a conundrum that has to be addressed. We both agree for numerous reasons that the serpent can’t be evil and be in the garden. I will spend more time on this later, but in my opinion, allowing an “evil” snake in a sacred garden wouldn’t align with God’s order. This leaves three options. The first is Walton’s option – It isn’t evil it is just a chaos “monster.” The second option would be understanding it as dual fall happening together (my view) – the serpent is falling as he is “tempting” Adam and Eve. The third view is the traditional view which doesn’t work in my opinion (but I will spend some time on it further on) – The snake is already evil and somehow gains access to the garden. As we explore these three options, the question hinging on this then is, “was the snake displaying sinful (The Greek term for sin “hamartano” (ἁμαρτάνω) – “to miss the mark”) or evil action? I agree that Adam and Eve are to blame for their own decisions (neither I, nor Walton, or Heiser would agree with any theory close to original sin or total depravity here, we are only responsible for our own actions). Is the snake also acting in free will in a way that (using the Bible’s own definition) – would be missing the mark for a free will thinking spiritual being? I would say traditionally the snake has always been portrayed as cunning and I would agree. It is also interesting (but I agree with Walton, we aren’t given an exegetical answer here) that the snake is portrayed as a challenger which is also representative of the challenger in the book of job. The question that will define this is whether or we can interpret the text to indicate that the free will serpent had “evil” intention.

X44 did a long video series on the book of Job. Is the challenger of Job a.) the Satan of the NT and/or b.) the same spiritual being as the snake in the garden? We don’t know the answer to this directly from scripture. We know that the “challenger” of job is seemingly involved at a divine court or council meeting6, but the genre7 of the text would also come into play, as well as the timing as we make an educated assessment.

The language of the Book of Job, combining post Babylonian Hebrew and Aramaic influences, indicates it was composed during the Persian period (540–330 BCE), with the poet using Hebrew in a learned, literary manner.8 Although controversial, the story of Job could take place much much earlier and be handed down orally over generations. If you haven’t learned this yet, our lens of theology on a particular subject is influenced by other personal views of theology in regard to other subjects. Our theology needs to fit from one framework to another and be in harmony. The difficulty with rendering the challenger of Job as the NT Satan figure is that either has him in cahoots with God after the garden (which most people can’t -and rightly shouldn’t -theologically accept according to the order and character of God). Or that leaves you either saying it simply isn’t Satan, or we don’t know (certainly seems like the simplest choice without much in stake), or it is Satan, and the story takes place before the garden banishment, which you might be surprised to hear is my view. I go with the simple we don’t know here but also would suggest that if we are going to start guessing I lean towards the challenger of Job as the NT Satan figure. But this becomes very complicated.

Adam was the first man, but the Bible doesn’t say Eve was the first woman, in fact quite contrary, it says there were no other suitable partners. I am sure you have also heard stories of a first spirit wife named Lilith. The implication is there were other woman and thus other people. In other words, we have the story of Adam and Eve in the mountain high cosmic temple garden (that I believe were functioning as the first priests) but you also have the rest of humanity in lower earth (notice the Tolkien language). At first you will challenge me on this, but the more you think about it the more you are going to find that theologically the view makes the most reconciliation or harmony of the texts. This view then would have the challenger of job playing a role in the divine council, then doing something similar in the garden. This is when you could still reconcile Walton’s view. The challenger might not be inherently evil, but just positionally fulfilling his role or function in the divine council as a challenger and do so in the garden similarly to what he did in the book of Job. But I have to “question that,” there are too many things that don’t align.

I believe the serpent “falls” in the garden which then sets the tone for the other spiritual beings to follow suit.

I am going to land more traditionally lining up with the way people have thought about this text largely over the last 3000+ years. In Genesis 3:4, the serpent’s statement, “Ye shall not surely die,” plainly read seems like an act of deception. This declaration directly contradicts God’s warning, suggesting that disobedience would not lead to death, which sets the stage for Eve’s disobedience and the subsequent “fall” from a life-giving provisional hand and tree of grace. The serpent’s words create doubt and lead to Eve’s temptation. I would say that this is where the serpent crosses the line and thus “falls.” If you have deconstructed enough to still be with me, then continue the line of logic – the snake whose vocation was to challenge is then kicked out of the garden, but the Bible doesn’t say this again, it has to be deduced (but that’s ok, that is part of theology). However, don’t get me wrong, the banishment was similar to Adam and Eve’s. I don’t see the snake actually losing his function completely because he was off the mark, neither did Adam and Eve as Walton points out. I see the “fall” in both cases then happening as archetype’s of what is to come. Both the snake and Adam and Eve make their own choices to be separated. The garden story then simply describes the beginning of “the fall” or the handing over to their decisions/desires, both of which are to seize wisdom for themselves and become like God.9 Could the job story be chronologically slightly after this? Maybe but it doesn’t fit the “fall” narrative as well. I see the deception of the snake being met with perhaps a demotion of the heavenlies (cast down to lower earth to crawl on its belly.) The snake is clearly cursed. This movement by God then has the snake feeling like he was wrongly demoted (as he might argue he was just playing his kingdom given role of a challenger) and eventually aligns other spiritual beings that follow him “down” likely becoming his “minions.” (Although I will admit, this notion is lacking exegetically as well, I will get to that.) From there perhaps the challenger of job and serpent seems to arise as the leader of the cosmic bad guys in the second temple period and New Testament. Nearly all of the intertestamental apocalypse literature seems to point this way. If they had that in mind, perhaps we should too, but it also doesn’t make it true. Of course, your view of inerrancy and the canon is going to influence thoughts here as well as you make your own decisions.

Do we get the answer in Hebrew? That is a great question, and it is really complicated. As I described in the inro the Hebrew is rather difficult to make any kind of deduction from in my opinion. Is there any semantic link or word play going on with nakedness or a sense of transparency? Could you interpret in Gen 2:25, as an adjective (in a ‘static’ mode) ‘naked’ – without a veil (seen differently from many other beasts that are covered or veiled by hair, bristle, quills, spines, plates)? In this sense it could be explained that the Serpent (spiritual being) claimed to be a “being without a (mental) veil”, and capable, too – in this state – to help others to remove the “veil from their mind’s eyes”. Of course that denotes ill intentions. And in this capacity the Serpent presented himself to Eve, claiming to be a revealer to her, since her ‘closed eyes’ were not capable to ‘see’ (Gen 3:5, 7). In the matter we are discussing (orumim/orum) we are facing with a kind of ‘semantic oscillation’, where two terms could be derived by the same conceptual root.

It is true that the Hebrew word and phrasing could be interpreted without a negative or evil intention – “missing the mark” connotation. For instance, in the ten times the word arum was used in the book of Proverbs, it pointed towards a positive attribute. To be arum was a good thing, and it was always directly compared to a naive (peh’ti) person or a fool (eh’wil). You could say that if we take the Proverb’s use of the word arum and apply it to the Genesis account, we can see that the snake was the crafty prudent character and humanity was the fool. To take this notion one step further, this specific root can only be found (arguably) in a negative connotation in one other place in the Bible, Job 5:12. In other words out of 11 occurrences 9 seem positive and two could be interpreted as negative. I always found it interesting that Jesus took the concept of the shrewd serpent and applied it to his own disciples in Matthew 10:16-20. So coming back to the text, I would argue that the word arum could go either way here, so then we go back to textures of interpretation – what does the context give us? Do we get the answer in 3:14:

Okay, what about the traditional view—could this have been an evil (already fallen) Satan who showed up in the garden to tempt Eve? There are a number of problems with this that I am not convinced can be reconciled within a solid hermeneutical approach to the text. Perhaps the only way this works in a traditional sense would be to say that the serpent was created good but fell before the garden story. Some literalists lean toward this view, suggesting that Satan was essentially “possessing” a snake. Therefore, when it ‘spoke’—which you might argue a snake cannot do—it was Satan speaking through it as an already fallen, evil being.

The difficulty, then, is how does an evil snake get into a sacred garden? God’s order seems to be disrupted, but the question is whether this could be possible. Everything in the garden was good, except Satan, and perhaps the (could you say) “evil” of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. In this view, God did not create evil; evil is the very antithesis of God. But regardless of one’s view, there is a fruit in the garden referred to as “evil.” That seems to imply some conception of evil existing in the garden.

Now, we need to address the translation issue here. The Hebrew word for “evil” in Genesis is ra’ (רַע). However, ra’ does not inherently mean “evil” in the sense of a malevolent force or being. It is more accurately translated as “bad,” “disorder,” or “calamity.” The concept of “evil” as a metaphysical, moral entity distinct from God is not necessarily what is being communicated here. Instead, ra’ can refer to anything that is not aligned with tov (goodness/order), but it is not necessarily the ontological evil that later Christian theology would define.

In the context of the garden, the focus is on “the knowledge of good (tov) and ra’.” The emphasis is not on the intrinsic evil of the tree but on the human choice to engage with ra’—to experience and define for themselves what is good and what is not. It’s about autonomy, the desire to determine what is good and what is bad apart from God’s established order.

We see the consequences of choosing ra’ in Genesis 6:5, where it says, “The LORD saw that the wickedness (ra’) of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil (ra’) continually.” The ra’ in Genesis 6:5 is not some inherent, ontological evil but the chaotic, disordered state that humanity descended into after choosing ra’ in the garden. It is a natural progression—a consequence of rejecting tov and embracing autonomy.

In Romans 1:24-28, Paul describes a similar dynamic, where God “hands them over” to their desires. God is not directly causing evil but allowing humanity to experience the consequences of choosing ra’ over tov. In this way, God’s “wrath” is not active punishment but a passive allowance for people to reap the consequences of their choices. This same dynamic is at play in the garden. God is not bringing evil into the garden; rather, He is allowing Adam and Eve the freedom to choose, to step outside of His tov order, and thus enter a state of ra’.

For instance, in Isaiah 45:7, God says, “I form the light and create darkness; I make peace and create calamity (ra’).” Here, ra’ is not moral evil but calamity or disorder brought as a consequence. And “make” and “create” are two different words in hebrew where God makes shalom and “orders” (br’) ra’. Similarly, in Amos 3:6, it says, “When disaster (ra’) comes to a city, has not the LORD caused it?” Again, the emphasis is not on moral evil but on God allowing or ordaining calamity as a form of judgment or consequence.

Therefore, the ra’ in the garden is not an ontological evil but the potential for chaos, disorder, and calamity—a choice that leads to a state of ra’, as seen in Genesis 6:5. When humanity chooses to step outside of God’s good order, what remains is ra’—a state of disorder and chaos. This is not about a fallen Satan bringing ontological evil into a sacred space but about humanity’s choice to step outside of God’s established order and thus bring ra’ into God’s good creation.

Thus, the serpent, then, functions as a tempter, not a cosmic evil being, leading humanity to embrace ra’ as the absence of tov, aligning with the pattern seen throughout the biblical narrative of God “handing them over” to the consequences of their choices. This interpretation avoids the theological problem of making God the author of evil while still accounting for the serpent’s role in the narrative.

But getting back to the traditional view and consideration of it; through the snake, if you can reconcile evil being allowed in the sacred garden then perhaps Satan falling early (possibly before the creation) and showing up in the garden can work for you. But again, the traditional interpretation hinges on the assumption that the serpent represents a pre-fallen Satan who is already evil. However, as discussed earlier, the Hebrew concept of ra’ is not inherently “evil” as in a cosmic, malevolent force. It is more accurately understood as disorder, calamity, or badness—essentially a deviation from tov (goodness/order). This nuance becomes crucial when considering the nature of the serpent and the so-called “evil” present in the garden.

If we accept that ra’ in Genesis does not inherently indicate a cosmic evil but rather the potential for disorder and chaos, then the serpent may not be some intrinsically evil being but rather a creature operating within the framework of ra’—a tempter, yes, but not a pre-fallen Satan in the classic sense. The text itself does not state that the serpent was Satan, nor that Satan was a fallen being at this point.

Satan put the words in Eve’s mind that caused or gave way for her to make a decision to disobey God’s command. That warranted banishment by God to both Eve and the snake, who traditionally is viewed as Satan, an instrument of evil. But here, we run into further problems. If we adopt the traditional view that Satan had already fallen, we are left with the question of how a fallen, evil being could be allowed into the sacred garden—a space characterized by the presence of God’s tov order.

Some might say that God “allows” Satan into the Garden similar to the book of Job, which could be seen as a test for Adam and Eve, giving them the choice to obey God’s command or succumb to temptation. Yet, in the Job narrative, Satan is depicted as a member of the divine council (Job 1:6-12), not a pre-fallen being operating as an evil entity. The Satan figure in Job is portrayed more as an accuser or tester, not the cosmic evil adversary developed in later Christian theology. Thus, to read Genesis 3 through the Job lens is problematic and potentially anachronistic.

I don’t see God operating with the enemy this way. To me, seeing God negotiating with the enemy is theologically problematic. If God is negotiating with a pre-fallen Satan to test humanity, this casts God in a complicit role in the introduction of ra’ (disorder) into the sacred space, making Him a participant in the very disorder He is meant to oppose.

Others wonder if by presenting the choice between obedience and disobedience, God established a framework for humans to exercise their moral agency or responsibility. But this still has God and Satan in cahoots. From a theological standpoint, some Reformed and Calvinist traditions suggest that God’s sovereignty encompasses even the activities of Satan, allowing Satan to enter the Garden as part of a divine test. However, this framework positions God as the author of evil, effectively undermining the character of God as wholly good and holy.

This interpretation also fails to account for the consistent biblical narrative that God is not the author of ra’ but rather the one who brings order from chaos (Genesis 1:1-3). To frame Satan as an already fallen being actively working with God in the garden disrupts this order and introduces theological inconsistencies.

All of this has us asking, did God “allow” a “fallen” Satan to tempt his sacred image bearers? Well, God certainly allows us to be tempted, as is clear in the New Testament (e.g., Matthew 4:1; 1 Corinthians 10:13). But the context of Genesis 3 has a different feel. The serpent is depicted as a cunning creature, not as a cosmic enemy of God. There is no explicit indication that this serpent is Satan or that it is a fallen being acting in opposition to God’s order.

I am not sure the best theological plan has sacred space invaded by literally the most evil entity the world has ever known and God seemingly working with Him. Everything we read in the New Testament is contrary to this. Satan is depicted as the “god of this world” (2 Corinthians 4:4), the “accuser of the brethren” (Revelation 12:10), and a “roaring lion” seeking to devour (1 Peter 5:8)—but these depictions are framed in a post-fall, post-Genesis context. The New Testament portrays Satan as having already been cast down, not as an evil entity roaming freely in God’s sacred space.

Did Satan’s place with God change later in the Old Testament? Could the “fall” have even been later when the extra-biblical material got so apocalyptic? Possibly. This is an option for a later fall, but again, it goes against the traditional view of an already evil, pre-fallen Satan in the Garden.

The real issue here is that the traditional view seems to require theological gymnastics that complicate the narrative and obscure the focus of Genesis 3. The narrative seems more concerned with humanity’s choice to step outside of God’s tov order and embrace ra’, not with the cosmic conflict between God and a fallen Satan. Therefore, to frame the serpent as an already fallen Satan may be to import later theological constructs into the Genesis text, rather than allowing the text to speak for itself within its own ancient Near Eastern context.

As we continue our last set of questions we then start to ask, when exactly did Satan and the other spirits fall? Before creation, during early Genesis, towards the end of the OT, or are they continuing to fall until the day of judgment? One of the more enigmatic verses in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells his disciples, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven” -Luke 10:18. Hesier points out, perhaps the most common interpretation is that Jesus is seeing or remembering the original fall of Satan. This option makes little sense in context. Prior to the statement, Jesus had sent out the disciples to heal and preach that the kingdom of God had drawn near to them (Luke 10:1–9). They return amazed and excited by the fact that demons were subject to them in the name of Jesus (10:17). Jesus then says, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.”10 Personally, I view this as an already not yet. It was a Christus Victor, at the cross, CS Lewis style regaining the keys over death victory. In this sense I think the words “like lightning from heaven” was a very clever word play of double proportion that Jesus seems quite well known for. The language style used by Luke (“I saw”) was apocalyptic in prophetic visions, especially in the book of Daniel (Dan 4:10; 7:2, 4, 6–7, 9, 11, 13, 21). But I also don’t see the final culmination of this until the second coming of Christ. Therefore, I see it as past (Satan falling seems to be how everyone else in that generation would have interpreted it) and yet to come. This fits my theology well in first understanding how the intended audience would have interpreted it, then applying it to the modern day “see it all” lens that we have for everything biblical. To sum it up, I agree with Walton that the Bible never actually describes or concretely gives us the details of a fall, but I think it is a logical and theological deduction. This conclusion seems obvious, since the New Testament identifies the serpent as Satan or the devil (Rev 12:9). The implication of seeing Eden through ancient Near Eastern eyes is that God was not the only divine being. God had created humankind as his imagers and tasked them with bringing the rest of the world outside Eden under control—in effect, expanding Eden through the rest of creation. God’s will was disrupted when an external supernatural tempter (I think challenger is a better word), acting (cunningly) autonomously against God’s wishes, succeeded in deceiving Eve.11

Ezekiel 28:1-19 and Isaiah 14:12-15 are pivotal passages often cited to support the traditional view that Satan was already a fallen, evil being by the time he appears in the garden of Eden. However, a closer examination of these texts, along with a more nuanced understanding of the Hebrew language and ancient Near Eastern context, suggests a different narrative. Rather than depicting a pre-creation fall of Satan, these texts situate the divine rebel’s fall within the context of pride and hubris connected to earthly rulers and their supernatural counterparts.

Both Ezekiel 28 and Isaiah 14 are structured as mashal, a Hebrew term meaning a “comparative story” or “taunt.” The prophets are not merely describing historical kings but using these figures as representative echoes of the original deceiver in Eden. In both cases, the kings of Tyre and Babylon embody the characteristics and trajectory of the divine rebel in Genesis 3.

Isaiah 14:4 explicitly introduces the passage as a mashal against the king of Babylon. The text reads:

“You will take up this taunt (mashal) against the king of Babylon” (Isa 14:4).

The prophet is comparing the king’s pride and downfall to that of a celestial being who sought to elevate himself above the stars of God—a clear echo of the serpent’s desire to corrupt humanity’s allegiance to God in Genesis 3. This heavenly being in Isaiah 14 is depicted as seeking to ascend the divine council, placing himself above the other divine beings, only to be cast down to the earth (erets), the realm of the dead.

Similarly, in Ezekiel 28, the prophet uses the king of Tyre as a comparative figure. The king, adorned with precious stones and positioned as a guardian cherub, is described as being in Eden, the garden of God. The language is strikingly similar to descriptions of divine beings in other ancient Near Eastern texts, portraying this being as resplendent, powerful, and shining—an image associated with the divine council.

“You were in Eden, the garden of God;

every precious stone was your covering…

You were an anointed guardian cherub.

I placed you; you were on the holy mountain of God;

in the midst of the stones of fire you walked.” (Ezekiel 28:13-14)

The king’s pride and hubris are directly connected to the serpent’s role in Genesis 3, echoing the desire to elevate oneself above one’s appointed station, leading to downfall.

The kings of Tyre and Babylon, like the serpent and the first humans in Eden, chose ra’ over tov, disorder over divine order. The Hebrew word ra’ is frequently translated as “evil,” but its primary meaning is closer to “bad,” “disorder,” or “calamity.” In the garden narrative, Adam and Eve’s choice to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (tov and ra’) was not a choice between moral opposites but between divine order and chaos.

The same choice is portrayed in Ezekiel 28 and Isaiah 14. The king of Tyre’s exaltation to divine heights and his subsequent casting down is framed as a choice to pursue self-exaltation (ra’) over alignment with God’s order (tov). This choice mirrors the serpent’s enticement of Eve—to become “like gods,” knowing good and evil, a pursuit of autonomy apart from God’s appointed order.

In Isaiah 14, the king of Babylon is likened to helel ben shachar, the morning star. This term, later translated as Lucifer in the Latin Vulgate, refers to Venus, the celestial body that rises brilliantly in the morning but is quickly overtaken by the sun, symbolizing a being who seeks to ascend but is inevitably cast down.

“How you have fallen from heaven,

O morning star, son of dawn!

You have been cast down to the earth,

you who once laid low the nations!” (Isaiah 14:12)

The imagery here is not about Satan being named “Lucifer” but about the hubristic attempt to ascend to divine status, only to be brought low. The term Lucifer became associated with Satan through later Christian tradition, but the original context is a mashal, a comparative story about a celestial being seeking to usurp divine authority—a theme that resonates with the serpent’s ambition in Eden.

Adam and the Divine Rebel

Heiser’s critique of the Adam view is that it misreads the prophetic texts. In Genesis 3, Adam is not depicted as attempting to ascend to the divine council or exalt himself above the stars of God. Instead, he passively follows Eve in choosing ra’ over tov, effectively failing to uphold his divine vocation as an image-bearer.

In contrast, the divine rebel in Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 is characterized by active rebellion, pride, and the desire to ascend the divine council and claim divinity. The imagery of ascending to the mount of assembly (Isa 14:13) and walking among the fiery stones (Ezek 28:14) places this figure within the divine council, a realm Adam was never said to inhabit (though Eden was a mountain top garden- a divine council place).

The Rebel Spiritual Being and the Garden

In both prophetic texts, the hubris of the divine rebel is the central theme. The king of Babylon, likened to the morning star, seeks to usurp divine authority, echoing the serpent’s enticement in Eden:

“You said in your heart,

‘I will ascend to heaven;

I will raise my throne above the stars of God;

I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly…

I will make myself like the Most High.’” (Isaiah 14:13-14)

This language mirrors the serpent’s enticement in Genesis 3:5, “You will be like gods.” The serpent’s offer was a lure to ascend beyond one’s station, to acquire wisdom apart from God’s ordained order. Thus, the divine rebel in Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 is not Adam, but a divine being who, like Adam, chose ra’ over tov—autonomy over submission, chaos over divine order.

By framing Ezekiel 28 and Isaiah 14 as mashal, the prophets are not merely recounting historical events but drawing a comparative picture that connects the fall of earthly kings to the original divine rebel in Eden. The king of Tyre and the king of Babylon are embodying the traits of the serpent in Eden—choosing pride, self-exaltation, and rebellion against divine order.

This comparative approach underscores the consistency in biblical narrative. The fall in Eden was not an isolated event but part of a broader pattern of rebellion against divine order, echoing through earthly rulers and spiritual beings alike. The kings in Ezekiel and Isaiah are thus depicted as archetypes of the original deceiver, figures who, like the serpent, seek to exalt themselves above their appointed stations and are cast down as a consequence.

In this light, the prophetic use of mashal reinforces the connection between the garden narrative and the broader Deuteronomy 32 worldview, where human and spiritual rebellions are intertwined, illustrating how earthly kings align themselves with the fallen powers and perpetuate the same cycle of pride and destruction initiated in Eden.12

In the Deuteronomy 32 worldview, we observe a series of pivotal dual falls involving both divine and human agents: the fall in Eden (Genesis 3), the transgressions of the sons of God in Genesis 6, and the divine disinheritance at Babel (Deuteronomy 32:8-9; Psalm 82). The question then arises: Is Revelation 12 depicting a fourth fall involving Satan and a third of the angels?

Many interpreters have traditionally viewed Revelation 12 as depicting a primordial rebellion occurring in Genesis 3, where Satan is thought to have taken a third of the angels with him in his fall. However, a close reading of the text reveals a different timing and context for the event. Rather than referring to an ancient, Edenic fall, Revelation 12 situates the conflict within the context of Christ’s first advent, aligning it with the incarnation, resurrection, and ascension of the Messiah.

The passage begins with the imagery of a woman clothed with the sun, representing Israel, giving birth to a male child “who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron” (Rev. 12:5). This is a direct allusion to the messianic prophecy of Psalm 2:8–9, a prophecy that concerns Christ’s rulership rather than a primeval angelic rebellion. The child is “caught up to God and to His throne,” an unmistakable reference to the ascension, not to any event in Eden.

Michael Heiser critiques the traditional interpretation, noting that there is no scriptural basis for locating Satan’s fall in Genesis 3. He writes:

“There isn’t a single verse in the entirety of Scripture that tells us (a) the original rebel sinned before the episode of Genesis 3, or (b) a third of the angels also fell either before humanity’s fall or at the time of that fall.” 13

Heiser further emphasizes that the timing of the conflict involving the third of the stars in Revelation 12 is explicitly linked to the incarnation and exaltation of Christ. This interpretation aligns with Daniel 8:10, where the stars represent faithful members of Israel and their suffering under hostile powers, rather than fallen angels.

Revelation 12:7–9 describes a heavenly conflict in which Michael and his angels expel the dragon and his host from heaven. This event is framed by the birth and exaltation of the Messiah, not by the events of Eden. John explicitly identifies the dragon as “that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan” (Rev. 12:9), but he does not associate the casting down of the third of the stars with Genesis 3.

The chronological markers are unmistakable. The casting down of a third of the stars is connected directly to the birth, death, and ascension of Christ—not to a rebellion in Eden. Beale notes that the defeat of the dragon occurs through Christ’s resurrection and ascension, aligning this passage with the inauguration of the kingdom of God and the consequent expulsion of Satan and his host. 14

Moreover, Revelation 12:13–17 continues the narrative by focusing on the dragon’s pursuit of the woman and her offspring—those who “keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus” (v. 17). This further confirms the eschatological focus of the passage, centering on the Messiah’s mission and the ongoing conflict between Satan and the church rather than a primordial fall.

Thus, interpreting Revelation 12 as a description of a fall of angels in Genesis 3 is a misreading of the text. Instead, the passage situates the conflict firmly in the context of the first advent of Christ, emphasizing Satan’s defeat through the Messiah’s resurrection and enthronement—a defeat that inaugurates the kingdom of God and the dragon’s intensified assault on the followers of Christ. This view not only aligns with the internal chronology of Revelation but also maintains consistency with the broader Deuteronomy 32 worldview, where divine and human rebellions are framed within specific historical and eschatological contexts rather than a single, primeval fall.

So, then what about the rest of them? Back to my article on demonology. We don’t really have clear answers here either. The NT certainly talks about demons. I will admit there isn’t much if anything biblically that ties Satan specifically to other “fallen” spiritual beings. Revelation 20:10 is our best and possibly only source: “And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.” We also have Matthew 12:24 and Luke 11:15 also refer to Satan as the prince of demons, but that also could be interpreted a couple of different ways. But there is an inference I believe towards Satan being the leader of the cosmic fallen spirits at least by the time of the cross.

This article was Written by Dr. Will Ryan and Dr. Matt Mouzakis based in part on the foundational research of our latest book, PRINCIPALITIES, POWERS, AND ALLEGIANCES: Interpreting Romans 13:1-7, 1 Peter 2:13-17, and Revelation 13 within a Deuteronomy 32 Worldview and research from our good friends Dr. John Walton, and the late Dr. Michael Heiser to whom we are both in deep gratitude towards.

  1. A good friend of mine likes to remind me of the traditional difference between deducing and deducting. Traditionally these words are rendered differently. “Deduce” refers to the process of reaching a logical conclusion or inference based on available information or evidence. Deduce is a transitive verb, related words are deduces, deduced, deducing, deductive, deductively and the noun form, deduction. It involves using reasoning or logical thinking to arrive at a particular deduction. “Deduct” means to subtract or take away an amount or value from a total. Deduct is a transitive verb, which is a verb that takes an object. Related words are deducts, deducted, deducting and the noun form deduction. Either can take the form of “deduction”. However, ARTHUR F. HOLMES made the point to the Evangelical Theological Society in his text, ORDINARY LANGUAGE ANALYSIS AND THEOLOGICAL METHOD that the terms become increasingly complicated in modern English, and specifically within theological applications, “deduct” finds a place in most biblical conversation, as exegetically you come to what the text offers to which you can deduce something logically, but then as you apply it towards modern application (such as life) you are making a “take away from the text” statement which could be more accurately described as something “deducted.” Holmes and many others since them have continued to make the point that in proper English “deduct” doesn’t simply apply to math but also theology. Languages evolve and take on different nuances. Induction is another conversation. ↩︎
  2. Freedman, Meyers, Patrick (1983). Carol L. Meyers; Michael Patrick O’Connor; David Noel Freedman (eds.). The Word of the Lord Shall Go Forth: Essays in Honor of David Noel FreedmanEisenbrauns. pp. 343–344ISBN 9780931464195. ↩︎
  3. Mathews, K. A. (1996). Genesis 1–11:26B&H Publishing GroupISBN 978-0805401011. ↩︎
  4. The Hebraic Roots Bible’s footnote on Gen 3:1 states (bold is mine): “The word for ‘naked’ in verse 25 [of chapter 1] and the word for ‘cunning’ are derived from the same root word in Hebrew.” ↩︎
  5. WALTON –New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Advances in the Origins Debate (The Lost World Series) (https://amzn.to/3G7zLFG) was released on April 15, 2025 by IVP p.187 ↩︎
  6. Bullock, C. Hassell (2007). An Introduction to the Old Testament Poetic Books. Moody Publishers. ISBN 978-1-57567450-6. ↩︎
  7. Farmer, Kathleen A. (1998). “The Wisdom Books”. In McKenzie, Steven L.; Graham, Matt Patrick (eds.). The Hebrew Bible Today: An Introduction to Critical Issues. Westminster John Knox Press. ISBN 9780664256524. ↩︎
  8. Edward L. Greenstein (2019). Job: A New Translation. Yale University Press. p. xxvii. ISBN 9780300163766Determining the time and place of the book’s composition is bound up with the nature of the book’s language. The Hebrew prose of the frame tale, notwithstanding many classic features, shows that it was composed in the post-Babylonian era (after 540 BC). The poetic core of the book is written in a highly literate and literary Hebrew, the eccentricities and occasional clumsiness of which suggest that Hebrew was a learned and not native language of the poet. The numerous words and grammatical shadings of Aramaic spread throughout the mainly Hebrew text of Job make a setting in the Persian era (approximately 540-330) fairly certain, for it was only in that period that Aramaic became a major language throughout the Levant. The poet depends on an audience that will pick up on subtle signs of Aramaic. ↩︎
  9. JOHN H. WALTON –New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Advances in the Origins Debate pg. 180 ↩︎
  10. https://www.logos.com/grow/satan-fall-like-lightning/?msockid=206e9552481f69af0ce286c8497d6812 ↩︎
  11. https://gcdiscipleship.com/article-feed/what-eden-tells-us-about-satan ↩︎
  12. Michael S. Heiser, Demons: What the Bible Really Says about the Powers of Darkness (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2020), 71–82. ↩︎
  13. Michael Heiser, Demons, 243 ↩︎
  14. G.K Beale, Revelation, 637 ↩︎