Reading Genesis 1-2: An Evangelical Conversation (Review)

J. Daryl Charles, ed. Reading Genesis 1–2: An Evangelical Conversation. Peabody, Mass: Hendrickson, 2013. 240 pp. + xxi. $24.95.

In the fall of 2011, the Bryan Institute of Bryan College in Dayton, Tennessee, hosted a two day symposium, titled “Reading Genesis 1–2: A Evangelical Conversation.” The conference welcomed highly regarded and widely published evangelical scholars to contribute a spectrum of perspectives on the foundational chapters of Scripture. The book by the same name is a revised collection of the papers presented at the Chattanooga Convention Center, with two additional essays by Bryan College faculty. Guided by the editorial hand of J. Daryl Charles, the present volume is structured according to a point, counter-point format. Each of the first five chapters presents one scholar’s perspective, followed by responses from each of the other panel members. The final two chapters attempt to move the discussion beyond the academy and into the pews and classrooms.

Victor Hamilton, who served as moderator of the symposium, provides the historical backdrop for the necessity of the symposium, and by extension, this volume. In the introduction he reminds the audience that there is not one, but many, points of contention and debate, that has garnered attention from biblical interpreters both now and in days gone by. Hamilton concludes with these sage-like words: “A community of believers tries, by the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to come to an understanding of a scriptural position or passage by thinking together, talking and dialoguing together, and by agreeing to disagree agreeably if the case need be” (4).

Richard Averbeck, “A Literary Day, Inter-Textual, and Contextual Reading of Genesis 1–2”

According to Richard Averbeck, the key to interpreting Gen 1 and 2 is a proper understanding of the ancient Near Eastern context out of which the narratives arose. For him “The primary purpose of the story was to help them think of their God as the framer of their lives by the way he fabricated and set up their world. It is as much about how the world works and how we fit into it as it is about the material creation of it” (8). However, it is not that the Old Testament is simply another ANE text, it also stands against the ANE worldview. The most distinguishing factor for Averbeck’s approach is his insistence that cosmological language is analogical. For example, the biblical authors did not really think there were waters in the heavens above a dome. Rather, this analogy was used to explain that water descended from the sky via the clouds, giving the appearance of both a firmament and water above it. Although Averbeck does not hold to a literal 24-hour, 7 day week, he does argue that “there is a necessary structure and sequence through the six days” (31) that coincides with the natural sciences. Averbeck is careful to show the distinction between Gen 1 and Gen 2, but he attempts to harmonize the two chapters by noting that the conditions of Gen 2 require the creation of plants and trees in Gen 1 (29). As for Adam and Eve, Averbeck affirms an original human pair from whom all humanity descended.

Todd S. Beall, “Reading Genesis 1–2: A Literal Approach”

For Todd Beall, Gen 1 and 2 should be read “as historical narrative that is meant to be taken literally. This is the normal reading of the account, as even most scholars will acknowledge. It does not require a person with a PhD to unlock the key to these chapters by appealing to ANE literature or a special genre or some other special figurative approach” (45). Beall’s argument relies on two assumptions. First, the narrative preterite (waw-consecutive) verbal form is consistently used throughout Gen 1 and 2, indicating that it follows the same narrative pattern as the rest of the historical books. Second, since these chapters are written in narrative form, “[t]he genre is clearly narrative” (49). For Beall, this genre classification indicates that Gen 1 and 2 is a historical account. After discounting the idea that Gen 1 represents an ANE worldview, Beall addresses the issue of how the New Testament authors used the Genesis material. According to Beall, Jesus and Paul made reference to these passages because they viewed them not simply as authoritative, but as historical. Beall concludes by appealing to the “slippery slope” argument: “To use some other hermeneutical approach and apply it in a piecemeal fashion is to embark on a slippery slope that ignores the plain evidence given by our Lord, the NT writers, and the text of Genesis itself” (59).

C. John Collins, “Reading Genesis 1–2 with the Grain: Analogical Days”

John Collins begins his discussion by raising the issue of function. Citing C. S. Lewis, Collins notes that we can only know what something is by how it is used. Although we may use tools for things other than what they were intended, each tool has a specific purpose for which it is best suited. Applying this approach to the Bible, “this means that we can figure out what job it is there to do by figuring out what it is the right tool for. And we should be careful not to use it for things it was not meant to do” (73). For Collins, the function of Gen 1–2 is best understood in light of the unity of Gen 1–50. With Averbeck, Longman, and Walton, Collins finds the ANE material helpful for understanding Gen 1–2, except by demonstrating that Gen 1–11 expects “similar attention to history without undue literalism” (77).  As expected from his previous work on Genesis, Collins’ primary focus is the literary structure. Although he sees Gen 1 as “exalted prose” (83), he nonetheless sees a seamless transition with Gen 2, which Collins argues to be the particularization of the sixth day in Gen 1, none of which he takes to be 24-hour solar days . Although Collins assumes an original pair (and has written Did Adam and Eve Really Exist? in defense of a historical Adam and Eve), he does not address the issue directly in this essay.

Tremper Longman III, “What Genesis 1–2 Teaches (And What It Doesn’t)”

While each of the contributors addresses the issue of genre in their own way, none give more attention to the matter than Tremper Longman. For Longman, a proper understanding of Gen 1–2 boils down to two key issues: its genre and its message. These two issues are inseparable. “After all, genre triggers reading strategy. A genre communicates the intention of the biblical author; it is a code that tells the reader ‘how to take’ the words of the author. Since inerrancy concerns what God intends to teach in a passage, it becomes critically important to recognize the genre of a text” (104). In order to identify the genre, Longman points to four features of the text: (1) the frequent use of figurative language; (2) the relationship to ANE mythological texts; (3) the internal inconsistency between Gen 1 and Gen 2; and (4) the relationship between Gen 1–2  and Gen 12–50 . After examining the evidence, including other biblical passages on creation, Longman ultimately defines the genre of Gen 1–2 as “theological history” (110). For him, the importance of these seminal chapters is not how God created specific things, but that he created everything. In light of his understanding of genre and an infallible Bible, Longman is not compelled to treat Adam as a historical character. As the lone contributor to articulate this position, it is not surprising that his treatment of the topic is also the most detailed.

John H. Walton, “Reading Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology”

John Walton has written and spoken extensively on Gen 1 and 2 in recent years. His essay here is essentially a summary of the work he has published in Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology and his more popular treatment of the issue, The Lost World of Genesis One. For Walton, the key to understanding these chapters is the “cognitive environment” of ancient Israel. Walton does not argue that the author(s) of Gen 1–2 were responding to or reacting against ANE cosmological accounts. Rather, he understands the entire ANE, including ancient Israel, to have operated within the same cultural parameters, thus their views of the cosmos shared many features. Walton’s argument hinges on two points. First, Gen 1 is less concerned with material creation than with functional creation. While he does not deny material creation, he asserts that the primary concern was what they were created to do, rather than what they were created as. Second, the ultimate function of the creation was to serve as sacred space, or as Walton calls it, the cosmic temple. He summarizes his position as follows: “When a temple was built, it became functional not when all of the material work had been done (building, furniture, priests’ garments) but in an inauguration ceremony that in a variety of texts throughout the ancient world lasted seven days” (161). On the issue of Adam and Eve, Walton states that “the biblical authors arguably thought of Adam and Eve as historical individuals” (167) who function archetypally, though he is not dogmatic in insisting this view.

Critique

Thoughtful and thorough critiques of each position are provided at the conclusion of each chapter, so it is unnecessary and impractical to rehash those concerns here. Should anyone wish to pursue further the specific challenges to a particular position, they should turn to the responses provided in the volume. Nonetheless, a faithful book review will at least address some of the major issues, whether logical or methodological. Thus, it is incumbent to attend at least to some of those, offered here by an outsider or sorts, though as one who was both present at the 2011 conference and engaged in the conversation at an evangelical university.

It is gratifying to find each of these authors attending to the issue of genre. However, the least helpful approach was offered by Beall who repeatedly (both in his essay and in his responses) identifies Gen 1 and 2 as “historical narrative that is meant to be taken literally” (45). The problems with this one sentence are many, but this review will limit its critique to three.

First, Beall’s basis for reading Gen 1 and 2 as historical narrative is not based on textual grounds, except for the fact that the verbal forms are waw-consecutives. However, the waw-consecutive is not an indicator of genre, only of sequence (see Averbeck’s brief treatment on p. 30). If, as Beall rightly notes, this verbal form indicates a sequence of events (47), then the reader is faced with reconciling Gen 1 with Gen 2, especially at Gen 2:19. Instead, the disruptive sequence of events as presented in the Hebrew text—along with the highly stylized language of Gen 1—should offer some textual clues regarding potential interpretations of genre.

Second, although the designation “historical narrative” is better than simply “narrative” (49) or the redundant “narrative prose” (49), it is nonetheless unhelpful. Is the historical narrative non-fiction, like Ambrose’s The Victor? Is it fiction, like Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities? Perhaps it is fantasy, like Gabaldon’s Outlander, or embellished history like the Hollywood version of U-571? In other words, neither “historical narrative” nor “narrative” are genres. They merely describe the literature’s form, but not its function. Genre is about function. By Beall’s methodology, the book of Matthew is also “historical narrative.” It has a genealogy, like Gen 1–11. It is written in a sequential pattern, like the waw-consecutives of Hebrew. It is situated in a geographical setting, like Gen 1 and 2. But, Matthew is not simply “historical.” Its genealogy intentionally omits three kings, indicating that the record of names has a theological function, rather than a purely historical function. The sequence of events does not follow the sequence of events in Luke, suggesting that Matthew’s history is thematic, rather than chronological. Whereas Jesus offers the so-called Great Commandment in Mt 22:37–38, in Luke 10:27 these famous words come from a teacher of the law, suggesting that precision in the details was not always as important to the biblical authors as precision in theology. In short, the genre “historical narrative” does nothing to advance our understanding of the function of Gen 1 and 2.

Third, what Beall deems literal is that which is the “normal reading” (45). By appealing to the “literal” method, he attempts to wrest the conversation from evangelical interpreters who attempt to read the Bible in its ancient Near Eastern and literary context. While Beall is correct to offer a safeguard against biblical minimalism which occasionally treats the Bible like any other ancient document, he is not utilizing the term literal as it was understood by Medieval and Reformation interpreters. For them, “literal” meant the original meaning, including allegorical, figurative, historical, parable, proverb, and so on. In other words, the literal meaning of a text depends on its context and use. When a student was asked to give a definition of literal, he responded by saying “concrete.” Based on the context of his definition, one could deduce that he meant “firm.” Although “a mixture of sand, cement, and water” was also a possibility, it would have been foolish to assume he had that particular “literal” definition in mind. A more useful term for Beall’s position is “univocal.” That is, texts have only one normative meaning: day means 24 hours of sunlight; light means a source of radiant brilliance; and to speak means to issue one’s voice. The problem, of course, is that at some point the univocal position breaks down, and the interpreter is left to consider how far he is willing to press this approach. Did God “speak,” by vibrating the air with vocal chords, or “see” by collecting reflections of light on his retina? How was there light, or evening and morning without a sun? Was there a dome in the heavens, holding back the waters above? Why is the moon called a light? These are but a few of the numerous questions any attentive reader of the text should raise. Of course, they have answers, but not without moving away from the univocal reading and toward a “normal reading.”

The final two chapters of Reading Genesis 1–2 attempt to provide a way forward, to move the discussion from the scholar to the laity. However, these essays are met with disparate levels of success. Kenneth Turner’s essay, “Teaching Genesis 1 at a Christian College,” provides practical methods for educators to teach what the Bible itself says on creation, rather than imposing a particular outcome on the text before allowing the students to even engage it for themselves. Unfortunately, the essay by Jud Davis, “Unresolved Major Questions: Evangelicals and Genesis 1–2” leaves the major question unresolved by appealing to in-house apologists and invoking in-group/ out-group rhetoric. While Davis is to be commended for his appeal to the ancient interpreters, he repeatedly misrepresents their positions. Yes, many of these exegetes argued the earth was approximately 6000 years old, but it was not because of genealogies, or flood archaeology; it was because they believed they were living in the last days, awaiting the second coming of Christ in the 7^th millennium. Incidentally, this alone is an indication that they were hardly beholden to 24-hour solar days in Gen 1, since the 7 days of creation represented the 7 millennium of eschatological history.

Under the capable editorial guidance of J. D. Charles, this volume accomplishes something that has been lacking since at least the publication of The Fundamentals a century ago, namely a civil dialogue on a range of acceptable interpretations within evangelism. For too long, Christians in some circles especially, have been intimidated into adopting one view over all other views, lest their Christian fellowship be jeopardized. In fact, if not for the aggressive, fear-based tactics of those who hold to the position promoted by Beall and Davis, this “conversation” would be as unnecessary as an evangelical conversation on baptism, styles of worship music, or church government. Incidentally, a survey of the history of interpretation on Gen 1 and 2 indicates the harsh divide in evangelicalism is a relatively new phenomenon, resulting primarily from the so-called “Scopes Monkey Trial” in Dayton, Tennessee, the home of Bryan College. The significance of Reading Genesis 1–2 is that it allows the interested Christian to safely engage alternative viewpoints within the parameters of evangelical orthodoxy, and for that the church should be grateful.