John Calvin Commentary Genesis 6:14

"Make thee an ark of gopher wood; rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch." — Genesis 6:14 (ASV)

Make thee an ark of gopher wood. Here follows the command to build the ark, in which God wonderfully proved the faith and obedience of his servant. Concerning its structure, there is no reason why we should anxiously inquire, except so far as our own edification is concerned. First, the Jews are not agreed among themselves respecting the kind of wood of which it was made.

Some explain the word gopher to be the cedar; others, the fir-tree; others, the pine. They also differ respecting the stories, because many think that the sink was in the fourth place, which might receive the refuse and other impurities. Others make five chambers in a triple floor, of which they assign the highest to the birds.

There are those who suppose that it was only three stories in height, but that these were separated by intermediate divisions. Besides, they do not agree about the window: to some it appears that there was not one window only, but many. Some say they were open to receive air, but others contend that they were only made for the sake of light, and therefore were covered over with crystal and lined with pitch.

To me it seems more probable that there was only one window, not cut out for the sake of giving light, but to remain shut unless occasion required it to be opened, as we shall see afterwards. Further, it seems probable that there was a triple story, and rooms separated in a way unknown to us.

The question concerning its magnitude is more difficult. In the past, certain profane men ridiculed Moses, suggesting he imagined that such a vast multitude of animals was shut up in so small a space—a third of which would scarcely contain four elephants.

Origen solves this question by saying that Moses referred to a geometrical cubit, which is six times greater than the common one. Augustine assents to this opinion in his fifteenth book on ‘The City of God’ and his first book of ‘Questions on Genesis.’

I grant what they allege: that Moses, who had been educated in all the learning of the Egyptians, was not ignorant of geometry. However, since we know that Moses everywhere spoke in a plain style to suit the understanding of the people, and that he purposely abstained from complex arguments that might suggest academic circles and deeper scholarship, I cannot persuade myself at all that, in this place, contrary to his usual method, he employed geometrical sophistication.

Certainly, in the first chapter, he did not treat scientifically of the stars, as a philosopher would do; but he called them, in a common way, according to how they appear to ordinary people rather than according to truth, two great lights. Thus, we can see everywhere that he designates all kinds of things by their accustomed names.

But what the measure of the cubit was then, I do not know. It is, however, enough for me that God (whom, without dispute, I acknowledge to be the chief builder of the ark) well knew what things the place he described to his servant could hold. If you exclude the extraordinary power of God from this history, you declare that only fables are being told.

But for us, who confess that the remains of the world were preserved by an incredible miracle, it should not be considered absurd that many wonderful things are related here, so that from this the mysterious and incomprehensible power of God, which far surpasses all our senses, may be more clearly shown.

Porphyry or some other fault-finder may object that this is mythical because its reason is not apparent, or because it is unusual, or because it is contrary to the common order of nature. But I reply that this entire narration of Moses, unless it were full of miracles, would be cold, trivial, and ridiculous.

However, whoever reflects rightly upon the profound abyss of Divine omnipotence in this history will rather sink in reverential awe than indulge in profane mockery. I purposely pass over the allegorical application which Augustine makes of the figure of the ark to the body of Christ, both in his fifteenth book of ‘The City of God’ and his twelfth book against Faustus, because I find there hardly anything solid.

Origen even more boldly plays with allegories, but there is nothing more profitable than to adhere strictly to the plain meaning of things. That the ark was an image of the Church is certain from the testimony of Peter (1 Peter 3:21), but to adapt its various parts to the Church is not at all suitable, as I will show again in its proper place.