I think it does work if we don’t limit Paul to a single level. For both Adam and Christ, there is the individual and a collective. Paul understands Jesus as a real man but can also speak of how we are part of the body of Christ. “Adam” is a similarly flexible wineskin to hold Paul’s heady metaphor. In fact, in 1 Corinthians 15 he at one point uses it for both sides, recasting his illustration as the first Adam and last Adam. It’s not about Jesus being another man named Adam, but Christ as the humanity from heaven that raises the humanity from dust.
Again, I’m not arguing for a collective-only intent – he focuses on how they are two men as well. I think the core of our disagreement is that I think Paul – like Genesis – can fuse these different levels, while you’re saying he has to pick only one.
Because anthropos doesn’t evoke Genesis’ thick portrait of adam as effectively.
It’s similar to when Jesus speaks of the Son of Man coming on the clouds. “Son of Man” there means so much more than a male human. If we don’t see how Jesus is evoking a complex character in Daniel, we’ll miss the punch of the reference. John’s use of logos may be similar, code-mixing some Hebrew thought into a Greek term.
You’re the expert here, not me, but I can’t see how this is true. This may be normally true in speech and even in a lot of writing, but how could this work for poetry? How can it work for meditation literature that is meant to be slowly absorbed over a lifetime rather than quickly parsed?
The way Genesis uses adam is not at all like how your earlier sentence used ‘rose.’ In that sentence, each ‘rose’ was distinct enough to be basically an unrelated word, though spelled with the same letters. For adam, the meanings are not just related but tangled:
- humankind: “I will never again curse the ground because of adam” (Genesis 8:21)
- human as species: “He shall be a wild donkey of an adam” (16:12)
- a group of humans: “the city and the tower, which adam had built” (11:5)
- any particular human: “whoever sheds the blood of adam, by adam shall his blood be shed” (9:6)
- humanity personified: “My spirit shall not abide in adam forever, for he is flesh; his days shall be 120 years” (6:3)
- something human: “the inclination of the adam heart is evil from youth” (8:21)
- a name for humanity: “Male and female he created them, and he blessed them and named them adam” (5:2)
- a name for a man: “The days of adam after he became the father of Seth were 800 years” (5:4)
Unlike the rose sentence, finding discrete translations for each meaning of adam loses the connective tissue that links them. When we see how rich the word adam is, a story of how God formed the adam takes on new dimensions. It’s a story about a man and a woman, but not just that. The archetypal dimensions of adam are already in Genesis, not something later readers invented.
I’m not saying it’s wrong to translate the word differently in context. Translation can’t convey everything, so of course translators will focus on the central meaning. But there’s also value in translations like Robert Alter’s that try to expose some of what standard versions miss. Of course his translation misses things too, and he’s written on how difficult it is to convey some of what is in the Hebrew. My request is to not dismiss attempts to see some of what gets lost in translation.