The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate

by John H. Walton

ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD affirmed by Christians is that he is Creator. That conviction is foundational as we integrate our theology into our worldview. What all is entailed in viewing God as Creator? What does that affirmation imply for how we view ourselves and the world around us?

WE LIKE TO THINK OF THE BIBLE POSSESSIVELY—my Bible, a rare heritage, a holy treasure, a spiritual heirloom. And well we should. The Bible is fresh and speaks to each of us as God’s revelation of himself in a confusing world. It is ours and at times feels quite personal. But we cannot afford to let this idea run away with us. The Old Testament does communicate to us and it was written for us, and for all humankind. But it was not written to us. It was written to Israel. It is God’s revelation of himself to Israel and secondarily through Israel to everyone else.

Mythology by its nature seeks to explain how the world works and how it came to work that way, and therefore includes a culture’s “theory of origins.” We sometimes label certain literature as “myth” because we do not believe that the world works that way. The label is a way of holding it at arm’s length so as to clarify that we do not share that belief—particularly as it refers to involvement and activities of the gods. But for the people to whom that mythology belonged, it was a real description of deep beliefs.

Some Christians approach the text of Genesis as if it has modern science embedded in it or it dictates what modern science should look like. This approach to the text of Genesis 1 is called “concordism,” as it seeks to give a modern scientific explanation for the details in the text. This represents one attempt to “translate” the culture and text for the modern reader. The problem is, we cannot translate their cosmology to our cosmology, nor should we. If we accept Genesis 1 as ancient cosmology, then we need to interpret it as ancient cosmology rather than translate it into modern cosmology.

If God were intent on making his revelation correspond to science, we have to ask which science. We are well aware that science is dynamic rather than static. By its very nature science is in a constant state of flux. If we were to say that God’s revelation corresponds to “true science” we adopt an idea contrary to the very nature of science.

We gain nothing by bringing God’s revelation into accordance with today’s science. In contrast, it makes perfect sense that God communicated his revelation to his immediate audience in terms they understood.

Through the entire Bible, there is not a single instance in which God revealed to Israel a science beyond their own culture. No passage offers a scientific perspective that was not common to the Old World science of antiquity.[2]

we must be aware of the danger that lurks when we impose our own cultural ideas on the text without thinking. The Bible’s message must not be subjected to cultural imperialism. Its message transcends the culture in which it originated, but the form in which the message was imbedded was fully permeated by the ancient culture. This was God’s design and we ignore it at our peril.

The question of existence and the previous examples introduce a concept that philosophers refer to as “ontology.” Most people do not use the word ontology on a regular basis, and so it can be confusing, but the concept it expresses is relatively simple. The ontology of X is what it means for X to exist. If we speak of the ontology of evil, we discuss what it means for evil to exist in the world.

What does it mean for the world or the cosmos (or the objects in it) to exist? How should we think about cosmic ontology? When we speak of cosmic ontology these days, it can be seen that our culture views existence, and therefore meaning, in material terms. Our material view of ontology in turn determines how we think about creation, and it is easy to see how. If ontology defines the terms of existence, and creation means to bring something into existence, then one’s ontology sets the parameters by which one thinks about creation.

Our culture has given us our beliefs about what it means for the cosmos to exist (material ontology; existence is material; creation is a material act) and many of us would not realize that these beliefs are the result of a choice. It is a testimony to the pervasive influence of culture that this material ontology seems so obvious as to prevent any thought that it is open to discussion.

If we are dealing with an ancient account we must ask questions about the world of that text: What did it mean to someone in the ancient world to say that the world existed? What sort of activity brought the world into that state of existence and meaning? What constituted a creative act?

In the ancient world they were not ignorant of the senses and the level at which objects could be perceived by the senses. They would have no difficulty understanding the physical nature of objects. The question here concerns not what they perceived but what they gave significance to.

We need to note the contrast: we tend to think of the cosmos as a machine and argue whether someone is running the machine or not. The ancient world viewed the cosmos more like a company or a kingdom.[12]

“Create” is the English word for bringing something into existence. If existence is defined in material terms, creating is a material activity. If existence is defined in functional terms, creating is a function-giving activity. We cannot assume that creating is a material activity just because our ontology happens to be material. We must let the word and its usage speak for itself.

When someone insists that Genesis 1 should be interpreted literally it is often an expression of their conviction that the interpreter rather than the author has initiated another level of meaning.

Assuming that there will be ambiguous cases (and there are), it is important to see if we have any contexts which must be understood in material terms or which must be understood in functional terms. If all occurrences were either material or ambiguous, we could not claim support for a functional understanding. If all occurrences were either functional or ambiguous, we could not claim clear support for a material understanding.

If the Israelites understood the word bārāʾ to convey creation in functional terms, then that is the most “literal” understanding that we can achieve. Such an understanding does not represent an attempt to accommodate modern science or to neutralize the biblical text. The truest meaning of a text is found in what the author and hearers would have thought.

If we conclude that Genesis 1 is not an account of material origins, we are not thereby suggesting that God is not responsible for material origins. I firmly believe that God is fully responsible for material origins, and that, in fact, material origins do involve at some point creation out of nothing. But that theological question is not the one we are asking. We are asking a textual question: What sort of origins account do we find in Genesis 1? Or what aspect of origins is addressed in Genesis 1?

The proposals of this chapter can be summarized by the following expanded interpretive translation of verse 1: “In the initial period, God created by assigning functions throughout the heavens and the earth, and this is how he did it.” The chapter does involve creative activities, but all in relation to the way that the ancient world thought about creation and existence: by naming, separating and assigning functions and roles in an ordered system. This was accomplished in the seven-day period that the text calls “the beginning.” Genesis 2:3 comes back to this in its summary as it indicates the completion of the bārāʾ activities over the seven-day period.

We can find out what the author means when saying all of these things are “good” by inquiring what it would mean for something not to be good. Fortunately the near context offers us just such an opportunity: “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Gen 2:18). This verse has nothing to do with moral perfection or quality of workmanship—it is a comment concerning function. The human condition is not functionally complete without the woman. Thus throughout Genesis 1 the refrain “it was good” expressed the functional readiness of the cosmos for human beings. Readers were assured that all functions were operating well and in accord with God’s purposes and direction.

If we desire to see the greatest work of the Creator, it is not to be found in the materials that he brought together—it is that he brought them together in such a way that they work.

In Genesis, after the cosmos is ordered, a crisis leads God to return the cosmos to an unordered, nonfunctional state by means of a flood. Here the cosmic waters are let loose from their boundaries and again the earth becomes nonfunctional. What follows is a re-creation text as the land emerges again from the waters and the blessing is reiterated.[6]

God did not give Israel a revised cosmic geography—he revealed his Creator role through the cosmic geography that they had, because the shape of the material world did not matter. His creative work focused on functions, and therefore he communicated that he was the one who set up the functions and who keeps the operations going, regardless of how we envision the material shape.

On day four, God began with a decree (v. 14) that identified the functions of these celestial functionaries. Unlike the situation in the rest of the ancient Near East, these functionaries are nonpersonal entities. The text at least tacitly makes this point by referring to them as “lights” rather than by their names which coincided with the names of deities in the rest of the ancient Near East. Then he did the work so that they would govern as intended (v. 16). And finally he appointed them to their stations (v. 17).

It has already been mentioned that whereas in the rest of the ancient world creation was set up to serve the gods, a theocentric view, in Genesis, creation is not set up for the benefit of God but for the benefit of humanity—an anthropocentric view. Thus we can say that humanity is the climax of the creation account. Another contrast between Genesis and the rest of the ancient Near East is that in the ancient Near East people are created to serve the gods by supplying their needs. That is, the role of people is to bring all of creation to deity—the focus is from inside creation out to the gods. In Genesis people represent God to the rest of creation.

Unlike a prototype (which is an original item that serves as a model for later production), an archetype serves as a representative for all others in the class and defines the class.

What does divine rest entail? Most of us think of rest as disengagement from the cares, worries and tasks of life. What comes to mind is sleeping in or taking an afternoon nap. But in the ancient world rest is what results when a crisis has been resolved or when stability has been achieved, when things have “settled down.”

Although security and stability might allow one to relax, more importantly it allows life to resume its normal routines. When Israel’s enemies no longer threaten, they can go about their lives: planting and harvesting, buying and selling, raising their families and serving their God.

The role of the temple in the ancient world is not primarily a place for people to gather in worship like modern churches. It is a place for the deity—sacred space.

Genesis 1 can now be seen as a creation account focusing on the cosmos as a temple. It is describing the creation of the cosmic temple with all of its functions and with God dwelling in its midst. This is what makes day seven so significant, because without God taking up his dwelling in its midst, the (cosmic) temple does not exist. The most central truth to the creation account is that this world is a place for God’s presence. Though all of the functions are anthropocentric, meeting the needs of humanity, the cosmic temple is theocentric, with God’s presence serving as the defining element of existence.

A material interest cannot be assumed by default, it must be demonstrated, and we must ask ourselves why we are so interested in seeing the account in material terms.

If the seven days refer to the seven days of cosmic temple inauguration, days that concern origins of functions not material, then the seven days and Genesis 1 as a whole have nothing to contribute to the discussion of the age of the earth. This is not a conclusion designed to accommodate science—it was drawn from an analysis and interpretation of the biblical text of Genesis in its ancient environment. The point is not that the biblical text therefore supports an old earth, but simply that there is no biblical position on the age of the earth. If it were to turn out that the earth is young, so be it. But most people who seek to defend a young-earth view do so because they believe that the Bible obligates them to such a defense. I admire the fact that believers are willing to take unpopular positions and investigate all sorts of alternatives in an attempt to defend the reputation of the biblical text. But if the biblical text does not demand a young earth there would be little impetus or evidence to offer such a suggestion.

Some scientific theories may end up being correct and others may be replaced by new thinking. We need not defend the reigning paradigm in science about the age of the earth if we have scientific reservations, but we are under no compulsion to stand against a scientific view of an old earth because of what the Bible teaches.[3]

It seems to many that they have to make a choice: either believe the Bible and hold to a young earth, or abandon the Bible because of the persuasiveness of the case for an old earth. The good news is that we do not have to make such a choice. The Bible does not call for a young earth. Biblical faith need not be abandoned if one concludes from the scientific evidence that the earth is old.

Viewing Genesis 1 as an account of functional origins of the cosmos as temple does not in any way suggest or imply that God was uninvolved in material origins—it only contends that Genesis 1 is not that story.

Our affirmation of God’s creation of the material cosmos is supported by theological logic as well as by occasional New Testament references. By New Testament times there was already a growing interest in material aspects and so also a greater likelihood that texts would address material questions.

The theological point is that whatever exists, be it material or functional, God made it. But from there our task as interpreters is to evaluate individual texts to see what aspect of God’s creation they discuss.

The functional view understands the functions to be decreed by God to serve the purposes of humanity, who has been made in his image. The main elements lacking in the “before” picture are therefore humanity in God’s image and God’s presence in his cosmic temple. Without those two ingredients the cosmos would be considered nonfunctional and therefore nonexistent. The material phase nonetheless could have been under development for long eras and could in that case correspond with the descriptions of the prehistoric ages as science has uncovered them for us. There would be no reason to think that the sun had not been shining, plants had not been growing, or animals had not been present.[4]

Interpreters have come to Genesis 1 with a variety of approaches. Increasingly those who are uncomfortable with the scientific implications of the traditional interpretation have promoted a variety of ways to read the text so as to negate those implications.

there is not a single instance in the Old Testament of God giving scientific information that transcended the understanding of the Israelite audience. If he is consistently communicating to them in terms of their world and understanding, then why should we expect to find modern science woven between the lines? People who value the Bible do not need to make it “speak science” to salvage its truth claims or credibility.

Concordist approaches, day-age readings, literary or theological interpretations all struggle with the same basic problem. They are still working with the premise that Genesis 1 is an account of material origins for an audience that has a material ontology. Modern inability to think in any other way has resulted in recourse to all of this variety of attempts to make the text tolerable in our scientific naturalism and materialism. Our face-value reading in contrast, does the following: Recognizes Genesis 1 for the ancient document that it is; finds no reason to impose a material ontology on the text; finds no reason to require the finding of scientific information between the lines; avoids reducing Genesis 1 to merely literary or theological expressions; poses no conflict with scientific thinking to the extent that it recognizes that the text does not offer scientific explanations.

The YEC position begins with the assumption that Genesis 1 is an account of material origins and that to “create” something means to give it material shape. It would never occur to them that there are other alternatives and that in making this assumption they are departing from a face-value reading of the biblical text. In fact they pride themselves on reading the text literally and flash this as a badge of honor as they critique other views. Reading the text scientifically imposes modern thinking on an ancient text, an anachronism that by its very nature cannot possibly represent the ideas of the inspired human author.

In the functional view that has been presented in this book, the text can be taken at face value without necessitating all of the scientific gymnastics of YEC. Their scientific scenarios have proven extremely difficult for most scientifically trained people to accept. When the latter find YEC science untenable, they have too often concluded that the Bible must be rejected.

Taking the text seriously is not expressed by correlating it with modern science; it is expressed by understanding it in its ancient context. If the text is interested in functional origins, it need not be evaluated against material claims and material knowledge. Its validation would come in answer to the question, Is this really how God set up the world to run, and is he the one who set it up? This stands in stark contrast to the validation that asks, Is this a scientifically accurate account of how the material universe came into being?

Many people who feel caught in a perceived origins conflict between the Bible and science subconsciously think of the origins question as a pie. Various aspects of origins are evaluated to decide whether God did it or a naturalistic process could be identified. The “origins pie” is then sliced up with each piece either going to “supernatural” or “natural” causation. The inevitable result as science progresses is that God’s portion gets smaller and smaller, and overall, God becomes no longer useful or necessary.

God is always the ultimate cause—that is our belief whatever secondary causes and processes can be identified through scientific investigation. But we also believe that God works with a purpose. Neither ultimate cause nor purpose can be proven or falsified by empirical science. Empirical science is not designed to be able to define or detect a purpose, though it may theoretically be able to deduce rationally that purpose is logically the best explanation.[6]

The scientific observations and theories that compose the lower layer of the cake do not in and of themselves carry teleological conclusions (though they might be consistent with such conclusions). They cannot do so, because the presence of a purpose cannot be falsified. So some scientists might believe that the lower layer is all there is. For them the naturalistic causes are all that can be affirmed, and they do not believe in a purpose, for their layer, their worldview, their metaphysics, have no room for God. This view is exclusively materialistic and could be described as dysteleological (no discernible purpose).[7]

Since Genesis is thoroughly teleological, God’s purpose and activity are not only most important in that account, they are almost the only object of interest. Genesis is a top-layer account—it is not interested in communicating the mechanisms (though it is important that they were decreed by the word of God). Whatever empirical science has to say about secondary causation offers only a bottom-layer account and therefore can hardly contradict the Bible’s statements about ultimate causation.

Whatever mechanisms can be demonstrated for the material phase, theological convictions insist that they comprise God’s purposeful activity. It is not a scientific view of mechanism (naturalism) that is contrary to biblical thinking, but exclusive materialism that denies biblical teaching. Naturalism is no threat—but materialism and its determined dysteleology is.[8]