I can’t imagine a more beautiful place to write than where I’m currently sitting, in the lounge of Grand Teton National Park’s Jackson Lake Lodge. The view from here steals your breath away, especially at sunset when the mountains glow from behind with a golden halo and the sky turns a profound royal purple. If a picture is worth a thousand words, reality is worth a thousand pictures!
I mention my current location for two reasons. First, the fact that I have so dramatically relocated (Massachusetts to California to Wyoming) explains why my post is appearing on Thursday this week rather than Monday. Fear not, faithful Monday readers – you vast multitude – I will return to the beginning of the week soon! Second, the overwhelming closeness of the beauty and splendor of nature reminds me of something that has been bothering me for some time. As usual, I choose to air my thoughts first here in the Fish Tank. Tell me if I’m being unfair.
There has been a metaphorical scratching inside my head for about a month now. It grows and subsides; sometimes I forget about it, sometimes I have an almost irrepressible urge to set down my thoughts. It is a scratching the likes of which I haven’t encountered since I first opened and read that most unfortunate production of creation science, The Evolution Handbook, last year. It’s the scratching I get when I know something is wrong – very wrong – and I think I know why. Whereas last time it came from reading (I know) bad science, this time it comes from reading (I think) bad theology. And not harmless, no consequences bad theology, but popular bad theology that threatens to undermine the relevance of Scripture. I am talking about the interpretation of the creation account, which I will call functional, set forward by John Walton in his recent book The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate.
Now, I don’t want to imply that Walton’s book is entirely misleading. It contains several important insights, not the least of which is that the cosmos is a temple created to be a dwelling place for God. Nor do I want to dispute Walton’s undoubtedly extensive experience with Hebrew and ancient Near Eastern literature. I want merely to point out what I see as the fatal flaw in Walton’s main idea, his theory of functional creation. This will take two weeks; today I will only try to explain what exactly Walton has on his mind, and then on Monday I will do my best to draw out the flaws in functional creationism and present them clearly so that the theory can be rationally evaluated.
So, what does Walton say about Genesis one? In short, he says that ancient cosmology was concerned with functions rather than material origins. To support this conclusion he cites sundry ancient texts from Sumeria, Babylon, and Egypt, and presents his own commentary on the first chapter of Genesis. In each text, he points out the aspects of creation stories that deal with proper function. He correctly remarks, for example, that most Near Eastern creation texts are preoccupied with the setting up of nature to support human agriculture. Much emphasis is placed on weather patterns and on the creation of plants and animals. In Genesis, he notes that there is already a material substratum, the “deep” or the “waters,” present at the beginning of the creation narrative. He argues that this suggests more of a concern with function than with material origins. He further groups the six days of creation into two sets – the first three involve the creation of functions, namely time and the weather, and the second involve the installation of functionaries – plants, animals, and man – into the created order. So far, so good.
But Walton is not content to end by pointing out that there is a pervasive emphasis on function throughout the creation account. He has bigger plans. He argues that any interpretation of Genesis one that concerns material origins is mistaken; the narrative in Genesis does not concern the material origins of the universe. What is meant by the verb “create” in the first chapter of Genesis is not “create materially,” but rather “proclaim the function of.” In this way, the narrative at the beginning of Genesis is a narrative of God proclaiming the functions of different parts of his cosmic temple. Just as we wouldn’t (supposedly) say that Solomon’s temple existed before it was inaugurated and God came to dwell in it bodily, we would not say that the cosmic temple existed until God dwelt in it bodily. Thus it may very well have been that there were animals, plants, the earth, people, etc. before the time of the Genesis story, but it is still the case that God created everything in six days because it was during that time that he proclaimed the functions of the various parts of creation, a process which culminated in his coming to dwell bodily in the cosmos, therefore “creating” it.
I will comment on Walton’s ideas next week. Until then, it will perhaps be instructive to meditate more on this conception of creation according to which the fact that God created birds on the fifth day does not at all suggest that birds did not exist on the fourth day.
God bless!
Comparing Walton’s book to “The Evolution Handbook”? Nico–you’re nothing to me now:)
In all seriousness, I’m interested to know why you reacted so harshly to this book, given that it is a top notch biblical study, even if you don’t agree with all of his conclusions or implications. Right now you haven’t really given any reasons. I would just mention one more thing you don’t in your review that I think is crucial to Walton’s argument: in Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” is usually taken to give a summary of the following narrative (i.e. the rest of the chapter is a picture of God creating the heavens and the earth). Walton argues (persuasively, I think) that this phrase is the backdrop (not summary) to the “creation story”. That is, God created everything, but it was “unprepared”, so to speak (chaos, formless and void, water, etc.). The rest of the chapter is God assigning the created reality teological functions. Of that I’m persuaded, simply by the text. So, look forward to your critique, Nico!
I love it when you ask for reasons, Nick!
Since I’m planning to actually give my reasons on Monday, I don’t want to talk about them here.
But I do want to say that I’m not sure about the claim you’re saying Walton makes. Before I say anything, I want to make it known that I actually don’t have my copy of the book here with me (it stayed in MA when I flew), so I might be misremembering. But:
1) I don’t remember Walton making that argument
2) The verb “to create” in Genesis 1:1 is “bara,” and Walton’s whole project is to prove that “bara” must (no exceptions!) be interpreted functionally.
3) Walton does not think that ancient cosmology cares at all about material origins.
4) Walton, later in the book, bases his assertion that God materially created the cosmos not on Genesis 1:1 but on several New Testament verses.
For these reasons, I would be surprised if Walton did in fact say that Genesis 1:1 is a backdrop to the creation narrative rather than a summary.
It is true that Walton thinks that God materially created the cosmos. It’s just that his evidence for this fact doesn’t include Genesis 1:1. The fact that Walton’s Genesis 1 does not speak to the material origins of the universe will (I think) be important for my arguments later.
Since you have my copy, I also don’t have it before me:) I’m almost positive, though, that in Walton’s respected NIV Application commentary on Genesis from a few years back that he does take 1:1 that way. I’ll have to look it up and see what he does with it, and if it factors into his argument in “Lost World”…
I suppose I’ll have to read the second post…but in any event:
Walton does not argue that “bara” always has a functional interpretation. Always is a strong word! Rather he asserts that the lexical evidence favors functional interpretation. I think he is compelling on this point.
Additionally, Walton’s argument is that ancient thinking was more concerned with functional questions than material ones. The idea of functional creation, of course, assumes a material one in some way. The question then becomes not a matter of bifurcating between the two, but one of emphasis.
Hi Seth,
Absent my copy of the book, it is hard for me to support my interpretation of Walton.
BUT:
Regardless of whether Walton argues that “bara” must always have a functional interpretation (an impression that I got very distinctly from the book), it is the case that he argues that in all cases where the word is found in Genesis 1 is must be interpreted exclusively functionally. We know this because he says it explicitly when he asks why we can’t maintain an interpretation of Genesis 1 that is both functional and material. His answer, by the way, is that we must remain faithful to the original meanings of the words. I point out in passing that this argument wouldn’t make sense unless Walton already understood the meaning of “bara” to be exclusively functional.
Walton most assuredly frames his discussion of Genesis 1 in terms of bifurcating between material and functional language.
In any case, my criticism of Walton depends only on his reading of the six days of creation exclusively functionally. I see know way one could interpret his book such that this is not his position.