How I Changed my Mind About Genesis 1 and Science, Part 2 of 5

The most hurtful theologically-driven myth of all times [is] that human beings are… specially created and endowed with souls, whereas ‘they’—all other creatures—were not.[1] -David P. Barash, Professor of Psychology Emeritus at the University of Washington

Once many of us climb out of the swamp of our own, often fear-based and isolated, Christian subcultures, we’ll be better prepared to respond to atheistic perspectives like the above. Brash statements of unbelief like this—often what our children encounter when they go off to college—show vividly the need to hear afresh the real message of the first chapter of the Bible. As we noted last week, Genesis 1 is about worship, not science, witness, not winning, and boldly declares that God is without peer or competitor, and humanity is his highest creation—created for blessing and responsibility.

Regarding how science relates to Genesis, I’ve long been convinced that Christians should exhibit humility and grace in their discussion of these matters. As Phillip Johnson, co-founder of the intelligent design movement has said, once “we’ve settled the issue of a Creator, we’ll have a wonderful time arguing about the age of the Earth.”[2] There’s lots of freedom to explore and discuss; however, two beliefs are essential in keeping the discussion within the bounds of orthodoxy:

  • Creation was ex nihilo—Latin for “out of nothing”. In other words, God didn’t create out of pre-existent matter: “By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.” (Heb. 11:3, NIV) Christianity teaches that there’s “a radical difference between the Creator and the creation. The Creator is eternal and self-existent and needs no source of being, but the creation, in contrast, is neither eternal nor self-existent and has being only because God called it into being from nothing… and continues to sustain it in being from moment to moment.”[3]

  • Humanity is unique, special, and distinct from the rest of creation. Besides how this is evidenced in Genesis 1 and expressed so well in Walton’s three contrast statements from last week, human “specialness” is rooted in the Imago Dei—Latin for the image of God.  Here’s the granddaddy of all passages related to the imago dei:

“Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and then let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’  So God created humankind in his image, in the image of god he created them; male and female he created them.” (Gen. 1:26-27, NRSV)

Being created in the image of God means that human life is sacred and that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” to be “covenant partners” with God. The “covenant” part of this phrase is about relationships and comes from the “Let us,” “them,” and “male and female” part of the passage above.  The “partners” part of the phrase is related to “have dominion”.

It’s like the illustration given last week: In other ancient Near Eastern documents we are employees in the plant serving in the manufacturing process. In Genesis, we are employees engaged in sales and marketing who represent the company to the outside world!

Regarding the origins of humanity, Genesis 2:7 states that “man became a living person” but it doesn’t say how. In other words, there’s freedom to accept that there’s a historic core to the Adam and Eve story, but, as John Stott said, “remain agnostic about some of the details…”[4]

Why is it wise to remain agnostic about some of the “how” or science details of the creation story? In a word: Humility. Listen to God questioning Job about this topic:

Then the LORD answered Job from the whirlwind:

“Who is this that questions my wisdom

with such ignorant words?

Brace yourself like a man,

because I have some questions for you,

and you must answer them.

“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?

Tell me, if you know so much.

Who determined its dimensions

and stretched out the surveying line?

What supports its foundations,

and who laid its cornerstone

as the morning stars sang together

and all the angels shouted for joy? (Job 38: 1-7, NLT)

When you read a magnificent poetic text like this full of beautiful metaphors (yes, metaphors—morning stars don’t literally sing in a band together), you see clearly how foolish it is to think that God could explain to us exactly how he created the world. The point of the questions and surveyor analogy is to show Job, you, me, or any other mortal that we have no idea how he does what he does. After all, he is God!

O LORD, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!

Your glory is higher than the heavens…

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—

the moon and the stars you set in place—

what are mere mortals that you should think about them,

human beings that you should care for them? (Psa. 8:1,3-4, NLT)

In reflecting on how Job 38 informs our approach to Genesis 1, consider that God may be using something we understand well—a six-day work week—to help us relate to what we really can’t fathom. Many scholars with a high view of Scripture show strong textual evidence that the days of Genesis 1 are a literary device to logically order information—like six hooks to hang information on—rather than a literal chronology and scientific description of what took place in 144 hours.[6] In fact, a close reading of Genesis 1-2 gives two major clues to steer us away from young-earth creationism, sometimes called “sudden creation” (i.e., things appeared suddenly), a view that flies in the face of mainstream science.

We’ll look at those next week.

 

[1] http://nautil.us/issue/58/self/its-time-to-make-human_chimp-hybrids

[2] “Young Earth Theory Gains Advocates,” Christianity Today: April 27, 1998, 24.

[3] Howard Van Til in Three Views on Creation and Evolution (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999), 166.

[4] John R. W. Stott, Understanding the Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1979), 233.

[5] This is called the literary framework or pictorial day view and is associated with Meredith Kline, Henri Blocher, Bruce Waltke, and others.