The Lost World of Adam and Eve (3 page)

We can begin to understand the claims of the text as an ancient document first of all by paying close attention to what the text says and doesn’t say. It is too easy to make assumptions that are intrusive based on our own culture, cognitive environment, traditions or questions. It takes a degree of discipline as readers who are outsiders not to assume our modern perspectives and impose them on the text, but often we do not even know we are doing it because our own context is so intrinsic to our thinking and the ancient world is an unknown. The best path to recognizing the distinctions between ancient and modern thinking is to begin paying attention to the ancient world. This is accomplished by immersion in the literature of the ancient world. This would by no means supersede Scripture, but it can be a tool for understanding Scripture. When we are trying to understand the opening chapters of Genesis, our immersion is not limited to the cosmology texts of the ancient world. The clues to cognitive environment can be pieced together from a wide variety of ancient literature. Obviously, not everyone can undertake this task, just as not everyone can devote the time necessary to master Hebrew and Greek. Those who have the gifts, calling and passion for the original languages and the opportunity to study, research and write, use their expertise for the benefit of those who do not. In the same way, those who have the gifts, calling and passion for the study of the ancient world and the opportunity to research and write can use their expertise for the benefit of those who do not.

Such study is not a violation of the clarity (“perspicuity”) of Scripture propagated by the Reformers. They were not arguing that every part of Scripture was transparent to any casual reader. If they believed that, they would not have had to write hundreds of volumes trying to explain the complexities of interpretation at both exegetical and theological levels. They were, instead, trying to make the case that there
was
a “plain sense” of Scripture that was not esoteric, mystical or allegorical and could only be spiritually discerned. Everyone could have access to this plain sense.

Throughout most of history, scholars have not had access to the information from the ancient world and therefore could not use it to inform their interpretation. Even the early church fathers were interested in accessing the ancient world (as indicated from their frequent reference to Berossus, a Babylonian priest in the third century
B.C
.) but had very limited resources. However, since the beginning of the massive archaeological undertakings in Iraq in the middle of the nineteenth century, more than one million cuneiform texts have been excavated that expose the ancient literature by which we can gain important new insight into the ancient world. This is what provides the basis for our interpretation of the early chapters of Genesis as an ancient document.

In trying to engage Genesis as ancient literature, we do not want to dismiss the insights of interpreters who have populated the history of the church. At the same time, we recognize that those interpreters have hardly been univocal. It is true that the creeds and councils have offered their conclusions about the key theological issues, and those conclusions have often become the consensus of modern doctrine. Yet it has not been the practice of interpreters to disdain fresh attempts to exegete the early chapters on Genesis just because their forebears had arrived at their various conclusions. Martin Luther begins his chapter on Genesis claiming, “Until now there has not been anyone in the church either who has explained everything in the chapter with adequate skill.”
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We should therefore not be dissuaded from seeking fresh knowledge that may lead to reinterpretation, for when we do so, we are following in the footsteps of those interpreters who have gone before us, even as we stand on their shoulders.

Proposition 2

In the Ancient World and the Old Testament, Creating Focuses on Establishing Order by Assigning Roles and Functions

We live in a culture that has assigned high, if not ultimate, value to that which is material. Science has a prominent place in our cognitive environment as the most reliable source of truth, and it stands as
the
authority when it comes to knowledge. Consequently, when we think about the origins of the universe in general or humans in particular, our epistemology (what it means to know something and how we know what we know) has scientific parameters, and our ontology (what it means for something to exist and what constitutes the existence of something) is decidedly material in nature. Many people in our culture are strict materialists and/or naturalists, who acknowledge only that which is empirical or material.

In such a climate, it is no surprise that we think in material terms when we think about origins. If existence is defined materially, then to bring something into existence (i.e., to create) is going to be understood in material terms. This way of thinking has so dominated our culture that we do not even question whether there might be other ways to think. We do not consider other options for ourselves, and the possibility that other cultures in other times or places might think differently is not a consideration. We read the opening chapters of Genesis and assume that since it is discussing creation, it must be focused on the material cosmos. We indiscriminately read the details of the text from our material perspective and believe that we are reading the text literally.

As we discussed in the previous chapter, however, the cognitive environment in the ancient world was very different from ours. Therefore, we must be cautious about reflexively imposing our cultural assumptions on the text. Indeed, to do so risks undermining the authority of the text by attaching it to ideas it was not addressing. As people who take the Bible seriously, we are obligated to read it for what the human communicator conveys to us about what God was revealing. The human communicator is going to do that in the context of his native cognitive environment.

Our procedure, then, is first to set aside our own cultural assumptions as much as we are able and then to try to read the text for what it is saying. Armed with our insights from a study of the text, we then take a look at the broader ancient Near Eastern cultural context to determine in which ways the Bible shows a common understanding and to identify ways in which God’s revelation lifted the Israelites out of their familiar ways of thinking with a new vision of reality. We cannot start by asking of the Bible our scientific questions. The Bible is not revealing science, and the biblical authors and audience would be neither aware of nor concerned with our scientific way of thinking. Our questions would not resonate in their minds, and neither would they even have meaning to them. Likewise, we cannot start by seeing how or where the Bible corresponds to scientific thinking that we have today if we have not yet understood the text in its original context. We need to penetrate the ancient text and the ancient world to understand their insider communication and their cognitive environment. We want to know what questions they were answering and what the biblical communicator is affirming from his perspective. It is the Bible’s claims that have authority, and our procedures must focus on those claims as they were originally intended.

As we begin, then, we cannot assume that we know what kind of activity
create
conveyed in the ancient world. Some people give value to taking the biblical text “literally,” and, although that term can be a little slippery, we can all recognize the value of reading a text for what it intends to say—no more and no less. Having said that, we cannot be content to have the English text be the ultimate focus of that kind of attention because we recognize that the English text is already someone’s fallible interpretation. All translation is interpretation, and we have no inspired translations. We have to analyze the Hebrew terms and their nuances as best we can.

If the translation “create” takes us in the right direction (and I believe that it does), we start with the idea that we are dealing with a verb that expresses the transition between nonexistence and existence. Consequently, before we can gain further understanding of the verb translated “create,” we must investigate what constituted ultimate existence in the ancient cognitive environment. We cannot assume that they shared our materialistic, naturalistic, scientific perspectives and values or our obsessive focus on the physical world. We must set those aside and read the text afresh.

If creation involves a transition from nonexistence to existence, then a creation or origins account is likely to begin with the description of nonexistence. The way an account describes the initial situation prior to creation can therefore help us to see what it means by nonexistence. With this procedure in mind, we are basically asking the question, what sort of origins account is this? We cannot assume that it is the same kind of account that we would write, and we cannot assume that our intuition will take us the right direction. Intuition is culturally shaped.

The initial situation is described for us in Genesis 1:2 (and again in Gen 2:5-6). In fact, when we consider the many cosmology texts in the ancient world, we find it is commonplace to begin with a description of non-creation—the pre-creation condition. We will return to this after a consideration of the biblical account. The biblical account begins with Genesis 1:1, which is not a description of any actual activity of God.
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Alternatively, it is widely recognized that Genesis 1:1 serves as a literary introduction to the subject matter that the chapter is going to discuss, stating the activity that God will be involved in. The main supporting evidences for this conclusion are (1) the fact that throughout Genesis sections begin with a literary introduction (Gen 2:4; 5:1; 6:9; etc.) and (2) the literary form of the account, concluding with a statement that on the seventh day God completed his work (Gen 2:2). This work was the work of creating (Gen 2:3, same word as in Gen 1:1), and what was created were the heavens and the earth (Gen 2:1). Thus, God’s creating of the heavens and the earth took place
in
the seven days. Genesis 1:1 is outside the seven days, so we know that Genesis 1:1 tells the reader what is going to happen
in
the seven days. So we would read: “In the inaugural period [this is the nature of the Hebrew word ‘beginning’], God created the heavens and earth, and this is how he did it.” The actual account, therefore, begins in Genesis 1:2, where we find the description of the pre-creation situation.

As Genesis 1:2 opens, we find that material is already present (earth, seas) and that this inchoate world is covered with water and darkness. Again, we know that ancient Near Eastern cosmologies share this characteristic. Darkness and sea are conditions of non-order. But if material is already present, we are immediately prompted by the text to ask why it does not begin with no material if it is going to recount material origins. This should make us curious.

The most important descriptor that is offered in Genesis 1:2 is the Hebrew combination
tōhû wābōhû,
translated in the
NIV
“formless and empty.” The implications are that materiality is generally present but without shape, and that the stage is empty of players. We must investigate whether that is what the Hebrew words actually convey.

The biblical writers left us many books, but a dictionary was not among them! We, therefore, have to try to determine what the words mean. The methodology for such lexical study has been firmly established and is confirmed as sound based on what we all recognize about language and how it works. Words mean what they are used to mean. There is sort of a social contract about how words can be used and what they communicate. Words can be given new meaning for a small group of individuals to use among themselves, or new meanings can develop in response to societal needs. In all of these cases, we can determine what words mean by the contexts in which they are used.
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The combination
tōhû
and
bōhû
occurs two other times in the Hebrew Bible (Is 34:11 and Jer 4:23, and
bōhû
never occurs by itself).
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These uses offer no basis on which to determine that
bōhû
refers to emptiness. Usage is insufficient to establish its meaning. Sadly, then, we have to be content with what we can determine about the meaning of
tōhû.
In its twenty occurrences (more than half in Isaiah), we find that it often describes a wilderness or wasteland (e.g., Deut 32:10; Job 6:18; 12:24; Ps 107:40). It can describe the results of destruction (Jer 4:23). It is used to convey things that have no purpose or meaning (e.g., idols, Is 41:29, and those who make them, Is 44:9). All its uses can be consolidated in the notion of things that are of no purpose or worth. They are lacking order and function.

It now becomes clear that the starting condition in Genesis 1:2, the pre-creation situation that describes nonexistence, is a condition that is not lacking material. Rather, it is a situation that is lacking order and purpose. “Formless” is not a good choice because it still implies that material shape is the focus. It is not. This leads us to the conclusion that for Israel, creation resolves the absence of order and not the absence of material. If this “before” picture conveys “nonexistence,” we would deduce that “existence” is not a material category for them; it is a functional category pertaining to an ordered condition.

This conclusion is further confirmed in Egyptian cosmologies, where the desert and the cosmic seas are described as nonexistent. Despite their obvious materiality, they are not considered to exist because they are not fully part of the ordered world. It is also confirmed in Sumerian and Babylonian texts, where the beginning state is described as “negative cosmology” or “denial of existence.” The absence of creation is characterized as major gods not living, daylight and moonlight not shining, no vegetation, no priests performing rituals, nothing yet performing its duties. It is a time outside time. This same feature has long been recognized in the opening lines of the most famous Babylonian cosmology,
Enuma Elish
: