Who is the serpent in Genesis?

Let’s start by asking about the context in which the serpent appears: Eden. There are three quite important clues here, because in the ancient near East a divine throne-room was typically depicted:

1. In a garden;
2. At the source of rivers;
3. On a holy mountain (the “mountain of assembly”).

This parallels Eden strikingly: we know God was present there (Gen 2:7; 3:8), in a garden (Gen 2:8), near the source of four rivers (Gen 2:10), and on a holy mountain (Ezek 28:13–17). Ezekiel also points us to clues about the serpent’s identity, because he is riffing off an earlier taunt in Isaiah 14:12–14, which makes a similar parallel between the serpent and a king. Isaiah describes the serpent as a “morning star” or “shining one” on the mountain of assembly in the heights of the north (Heb. tsaphon). Mount Tsaphon is where the Canaanites depicted the heavenly council assembling in the throne-room of Ba’al.

The point of both passages is to use cultural-religious “memes” to compare a wicked king to a member of God’s celestial court, who got above himself in Eden.

This heavenly court is motif that permeates the thought-world of scripture, and appears more and less explicitly in numerous places: 1 Kings 22:19; Psalm 82:1; 89:5–7; 1 Kings 22:19; Daniel 7:9; Job 1:6. Just as the kings of the ancient near East had their royal courts, so did the gods. This was not something invented by false pagan religions, but something recognized by them, and affirmed in true Hebrew religion. Hence the comment from God in Genesis 1:26: “Let us make man in our image”—and why, in chapter 3, he speaks of Adam and Eve becoming “like us.” Some think this is trinitarian language, which is of course possible, but makes no sense contextually; some suppose it is a “royal we”—but Hebrew has no plurals of majesty for verbs, and make in Genesis 1:26 is plural. The best explanation is that God is speaking to the other members of his heavenly council, which Job 38:7 says were present at the creation of the world—describing them as “morning stars” similarly to Isaiah 14.

There are also clues that Moses meant the term serpent in Genesis 3 to be a triple entendre that just doesn’t translate into English. The word in Hebrew is nachash, and like some English words (e.g. express or home), it can be a noun, or a verb, or an adjective:

1. As a noun, it means serpent.
2. As a verb, it means to divine; the nachash means the diviner.
3. As an adjective, it means shining; the nachash means the shining one (this is how the ISV renders it).

There are conceptual connections between nachash and other parts of scripture. Daniel sees an angel whose arms and legs were like the “gleam of polished bronze” (Dan 10:5–6): in Hebrew, nechoshet—a word derived from nachash. This brazen connection appears with another serpent-word associated with angels: Isaiah 6:2 describes God’s throne as flanked by seraphs; the same word used in Isaiah 14:29 of “fiery serpents” and in Numbers 21:8 of the bronze snake—which is then described in Numbers 21:9 as a nachash. So Isaiah shows us that seraphs can be fiery, not just in bite but in appearance, and links them to the throne-room of God; Numbers reiterates that they are serpentine, draws an association with shining bronze, and treats seraph as synonymous with nachash; Daniel shows us that angels have a shining, bronze-like appearance described with the same root word as nachash; and Genesis 3 describes an intelligent being in the meeting-place of God’s council as a nachash. The conceptual nexus evokes a luminous, serpentine angel. (Interestingly, Egyptian religion depicted winged, serpentine gods flanking the thrones of Pharaohs.)

With all these clues in mind, we can see that they do not lead us to a possessed snake in Genesis 3. Rather, the “memes” in the minds of Moses and his readers point us to the serpent being one of the spirits in God’s heavenly council—the same archangel that John calls the devil and Satan (Rev 12:9; 20:2).

Objection: don’t Genesis 3:1, 14 clearly show that the serpent was a beast of the field?

This objection has two parts:

1. The serpent is compared to the beasts

Many translations render the serpent as more cunning and more cursed than any other beast (e.g. ESV, LEB, NLT). But the Hebrew does not necessitate such a translation: it can simply mean that he was shrewder than any beast (e.g. NET, NIV, NASB). Literally,

And the serpent was shrewd out of all living-things of the field which Yahweh God had made. Genesis 3:1

This part of the objection actually trips over what looks like a deliberate conflation on Moses’ part: if his audience would have immediately understood that the nachash was not a beast, then Genesis 3:1 is really a bit of laconic humor, playing off the triple entendre. Thus, I don’t think the comparison to the beasts of the field is for the purpose of identifying the serpent at all, but rather to create a rhetorical contrast between him, the couple, and the animals. This occurs through two ironic reversals:

1. In Hebrew, “shrewd” is arum, “naked” is arummim, and “cursed” is arur. The words are all related, and so create a kind of wordplay: the serpent starts out arum, in a position of power over the couple who are arummim; but he ends up arur, in a position of lowest disgrace. He aims to get dominion over them, but ends up being made lower even than the animals they have dominion over.
2. This is further emphasized by the ambiguity of nachash, which frames the serpent superficially in the role of a beast. This magnifies the reversal of authority at the heart of the fall: the creation usurps the couple who were given rule over it, the woman usurps the man who was given rule over her, and the man usurps God who rules over all.

2. The serpent goes on his belly

Genesis 3:14b is also often taken to show that this is how snakes became belly-crawling dust-eaters. But snakes don’t eat dirt, and this is not an etiological fable! The phrase is symbolic, referring both to how the serpent devours man (1 Pet 5:8) who is made of dirt (Gen 2:7); and to complete disgrace and subjugation (cf. Mic 7:17; Ps 72:9; Isa 49:23). And if eating dirt is metaphorical, then so is is going on his belly: it likewise refers to being made low. Prostrating oneself was exactly how one indicated complete deference and submission in the ancient near East; cf. Psalm 44:25; 119:25; Lamentations 3:16. But it also refers to being restrained: Genesis 3 was written on the tail of leaving Egypt, and its original audience would have been familiar with Egyptian spells against serpents, which would often command them to go on their bellies. A serpent rampant is raised up and threatening to bite; a serpent recumbent is unable to do so. Thus, the curse on the serpent would be read not as an etiological fable about snakes, but rather as a restraint on Satan’s combative power, for the sake of his weaker foe, humanity (cf. Job 1:7–12; 2:6).

The overall effect is a humiliating dimishment of the serpent’s estate. This corresponds to point (i) above, and cashes out in three ways that unfold through redemptive history:

1. A change of domain. Isaiah 14:12–15 speaks of how Satan is fallen from heaven and cut down to the earth. Job 1:7 and 1 Peter 5:8 show us that the earth is his domain now; he spends his time here “in the dirt.” So this is the first sense in which he licks the dust.
2. A commensurate change in honor. Although he is still by nature a “god” (Ps 82:6; 2 Cor 4:4), he is both disgraced and sentenced to die. So despite being respected for what he is (cf. Jude 1:8–10), he is despised and dishonored for who he is (cf. Jn 8:44).
3. A complete eschatological subjugation. This is already inaugurated at the cross (cf. Col 2:15), and will be consummated at the final judgment, but the point is that Satan is subjugated under a man—Jesus. Thus the ironic reversal for him becomes complete (cf. Ps 8:5).

Thorny problems with the serpent being a talking snake

Beyond fielding the obvious objections, we can turn the tables and raise some pretty potent objections of our own to the common notion that the serpent was a talking snake.

Many Christians have historically interpreted Genesis 3 as a case of animal possession. However, I’ve met young earth creationists who go a step further, and take it as evidence that animals could talk before the fall. Under this view, the snake is not necessarily possessed by Satan, but is simply an agent on his behalf. This is not a modern view; Jubilees 3:28 says the same thing, as does Josephus (Antiquities, 1.1.4). However, it is a very problematic view. Here’s a brief outline of why this simply makes no sense:

1. What evidence is there that animals could talk before the Fall? You might say Genesis 3 is evidence, but that is the very question in dispute. What evidence outside of Genesis 3 is there, whether in the Bible or in the world? Even if you accept the standard YEC view of a perfect prelapsarian paradise, why would that paradise entail animals with completely different brains and vocal chords?
2. The curse does not include a removal of speech. When God curses the serpent and the couple, he is quite specific about what is going to happen. These specifics do not include removing the ability to talk—not even for the serpent, let alone for animals in general.
3. There’s no clear reason for a talking animal to tempt the couple. Genesis says the serpent was shrewd, but what is shrewd about him trying to get the couple executed if he is just an animal? What would he have to gain by that? Conversely, there is every reason for a member of God’s heavenly council to tempt them: he is motivated by envy. Adam was given dominion over the world despite being made lower than the gods/angels (Ps 8:5; Heb 2:7). So it’s easy to see how a high-ranking angel like the serpent would bristle at this, and plot to have Adam executed so that dominion could “rightfully” pass to him.
4. Snakes don’t eat dust. If this part of the curse, like going on his belly, is intended literally, then the Bible is arguably in error. The curse should have, according to the naïve YEC view, condemned the serpent to eat meat.
5. Snakes are not the particular enemies of people. Again, reading Genesis like a newspaper here falsifies the Bible. There are many species of animals which are far more inclined to attack humans than snakes, which for their part typically avoid us. And in terms of phobias, arachnophobia is far more prevalent than ophidiophobia. Moreover, a literal interpretation also eliminates the Protevangelium from Genesis 3:15—the first announcement of the gospel—by making it a pointless remark about animals, instead of a prophecy about the outcome of the struggle between the sons of the devil and the Son of God.
6. Genesis 3:14 and 3:15 are directed to the same person. A response by some creationists at this point (and remember, I am a creationist too), is that the curse on the serpent is actually broken into two parts: verse 14, on the snake, and verse 15, on Satan. But if ever there were a clear case of eisegesis this would have to be it. There is no indication of a second person being cursed along with the serpent; the statement is straightforwardly directed toward one character. Bad enough to impose a lot of extra baggage onto the curse that isn’t there; even worse to impose another character who isn’t even mentioned!

This kind of newspaper exegesis of Genesis is not only destructive to the meaning of the text, but also to the effort of making and keeping disciples. By turning Genesis 3 into something like a children’s etiological fable, we dull ourselves to the subtle rhetorical ironies and contrast in the text, and replace a grown-up theology with something more like skim milk. As Ron Swanson would say, there’s only one thing I hate more than lying, and that’s skim milk—which is water lying about being milk.