Don’t Genesis 1 and 2 contain contradictory accounts of creation?
Throughout the history of the Church, various portions of the Holy Scriptures have been interpreted, analyzed, questioned, dissected, and attacked—and sometimes dismissed—both by theologians and others. Whenever there is a passage of Scripture that is difficult to explain or understand at first reading, or that seems to contradict some “scientific fact” or in some other way poses an apparent difficulty to the occidental, modern intellect, somebody, somewhere erects a theory to try to resolve the seeming difficulty. Just such a situation exists with regard to chapters 1 and 2 of the Book of Genesis, which are alleged by many commentators to be two contradictory accounts of creation. 40/ The Radical Critics’ Case According to their theory, the author of the second account (Genesis 2:4–25) had no prior knowledge of the first account in Genesis 1:1–2:4 and when they are joined together they contain hopeless contradictions. James sums up the position of the critical school quite strongly: “When it is realised that there are two distinct creation stories in Genesis belonging to two different periods and derived from two different sources, inconsistency becomes intelligible. That it exists at all, however, is sufficient to discredit a theory of divine inspiration that is obviously out of accord with the facts.” (16/31) The critics themselves differ on the nature of the evidence. The relative importance of these differences are summarized by Kitchen, “Only two lines of evidence have been urged in favor of a double narrative: a differing style and theological conception in Genesis 1 and 2, and a supposedly different order of creation in each narrative.” (20/118) A sampling of some of the critics’ statements will show this to be the major portion of their case. Rowley, in his discussion of the contradiction between the two chapters, stated: “The first two chapters of the Bible contain two irreconcilable accounts of the Creation. According to the first account, a man and woman were together as the crown and climax of creation, after the birds and animals, whereas according to the second account the creation of man preceded the creation of the animals and birds while the creation of woman followed their creation.” (31/18) Rowley thus sees a disagreement as to the sequence of creation, a difference in the usage of the divine names, a different conception of God, and a difference in style. Driver, who wrote just about the last detailed account of the differences, has this to say: “Chapter 2:4b differs then firstly from chapter 1 in style and form. The style of chapter 1 is stereotyped, measured, and precise; that of 2:4bff is diversified and picturesque; there are no recurring formulae, such as are so marked in chapter 1; the expressions characteristic of chapter 1 are absent here (e.g., to create); and where common ground is touched (as in the account of the formation of man), the narrative is told very differently, and without even any allusion to the representation of chapter 1 (e.g., to the ‘image of God’). “Chapter 1 displays, moreover, clear marks of study and deliberate systematization: 2:4bff is fresh, spontaneous, and, at least in a relative sense, primitive.… The present narrative differs secondly from chapter 1 in representation. Both the details and the order of events of creation (insofar as they are mentioned in it, for the narrator deals briefly with everything except what relates directly to man) differ from the statements of chapter 1. “The earth, instead of emerging from the waters (as in 1:9) is represented as being at first dry (2:5), too dry in fact to support vegetation: the first step in the process of filling it with living forms is the creation of man (2:7), then follows that of beasts and birds (v. 19), and lastly that of woman (v. 21ff); obviously a different order from that of chapter 1.” (7/35) Theodor Gaster, writing from more recent times, noted also, “Attentive readers of the Bible can hardly fail to remark a striking discrepancy between the two accounts of creation of man recorded in the first and second chapters of Genesis.” (12/8) Though the conclusions the critics draw may be disagreed with, it is impossible to deny the following statement from James: “A comparison between the two creation stories is full of interest, largely because of the striking differences between them, which though more apparent in the Hebrew, may still be recognized in the English translation.” (16/37–38) The harmonists and critics both agree that the two accounts contain differences. The critics assume that the differences came as a result of a mechanical amalgamation by a later editor of two passages from two different documents. The harmonists contend that the differences are based on differing subject matter and point of view, as Cassuto notes: “It is manifest that the two sections differ considerably in character. About this there can be no doubt. The divergence is obvious if we approach the text without bias. “In the first section, we are vouchsafed a sublime vision of the totality of creation, portrayed with great synthetic power, which unifies into a clear and comprehensible order all the endlessly changing categories of existence; we perceive there, enthroned on high, the idea that rises above the accidental, the temporal and the finite, and depicts for us with complete simplicity of expression the vast expanses of the universe to their utmost limits. “God reveals Himself… as a transcendental Being dwelling in His supernal abode without direct contact with creatures. “On the other hand, the second section contains a graphic and dramatic narrative that captivates the heart with its details, imbued as they are with the magic hues of the oriental imagination, and seeks to inculcate religious and ethical teachings under the guise of actual happenings, addressing itself more to the feelings than to the intellect of the reader. “YHWH appears there, as we have already noted, in direct touch with His creature man and with the other created beings of His world. The difference, therefore, is profound from several aspects, and only one who closed his eyes to the obvious could deny it.” (6/70–71) Methodology The arguments and evidence purporting to show contradiction will be discussed first. The case for harmony and the answers to the critics’ contentions will be set forth second. The relative merits and defects of the opposing views will be examined for logical proof, internal consistency, common sense, harmony with knowledge of Hebrew grammar, and ancient literary styles and usages. In other words, does harmony of chapters 1 and 2—or contradiction—best resolve the issue of apparent differences in the two chapters, and leave the reader with a firm foundation upon which to trust any of the Scriptures? That shall be the test. General Differences There can be no denying that the two chapters differ generally, and on the surface, at least, appear to contradict each other in specific detail. The first general difference the critics note is the different usage in divine names. It is a fact that chapter 1 uses Elohim exclusively, while chapter 2 uses Jehovah-Elohim. (This, along with a discussion of Astruc’s reading of Exodus 6:3, will be dealt with in greater detail when discussing the merits and defects of the critics’ case.) The second major difference the critics point out is the different conception of God. The first account sees God as majestic and dignified, aloof from creation, while the second views God as having human-like traits, such as walking, speaking, and acting like a man. The latter account, therefore, is characterized by anthropomorphisms. The third general difference noted, which is hard to completely distinguish from the two, is actually a compound of different vocabulary, style, and grammar. Elohim, in the first account, is the name of the universal God. He is dignified, aloof. The style of the first account is measured and precise. The vocabulary is distinctive; Elohim creates calls into being, rests, ceases to make. In the second account, Jehovah, a personal God, the nationalistic God, is in direct touch with His creation. He forms, breathes, plants, makes. The style is more personal, story-telling, with its own vocabulary. Specific Differences In addition to the general differences, the critics note specific differences in detail. The first account has creation stemming from primeval waters: “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters” (Genesis 1:2, KJV). “And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear” (Genesis 1:9, KJV). The second account has creation stemming from arid ground: “For the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth” (Genesis 2:5, KJV). The second and third major differences in detail are the creation of man and the sequence of creation. In the first chapter, man and woman are created simultaneously, after vegetation and animals. “And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so” (Genesis 1:11, KJV). “And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good” (Genesis 1:21, KJV). “And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind: and it was so” (Genesis 1:24, KJV). “So God created man in his own image… male and female created he them” (Genesis 1:27, KJV). In the second chapter, man is created first, then later, after creating vegetation and animals, God forms woman out of man’s rib: “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7, KJV). “And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in “And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food… ” (Genesis 2:9, KJV). “And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam… ” (Genesis 2:19, KJV). And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof” (Genesis 2:21, KJV). Driver sums up the critic’s attitude by stating, “. . . that the narrator is a different one is so evident as not to need detailed proof.” (7/35) Unity of Plan As Allis aptly notes, “The word ‘generations (toledoth)’ occurs in headings 11 times in Genesis (usually in the form: ‘these are the generations of’). Consequently, we might expect this word to figure prominently in any analysis of the book.” (1/49) The critics generally recognize this unity; e.g., Driver, quoted earlier. Most of them attribute this unifying phrase, “These are the generations of,” to the work of a final redactor, or Priestly (P) writer. Allis elaborates on this: “But, of course, if similarity of identity of languages proves identity of source, all of these headings should belong to the same document. This had been asserted by Ilgen in 1798, when he divided 2:4 into two parts, treated the first part as the misplaced original heading of the first Elohistic Section, and assigned all the other headings to the same Elohist. “This drastic but consistent proposal was revived by Noeldeke in 1869 and soon became the generally accepted view of the critics; and they have been asserting ever since with growing positiveness that the ‘framework’ of Genesis, as determined by these headings, belongs to P, the latest of the sources of Genesis.” (1/49–50) Most of the critics also agree that the phrase is common as a title, but they make an exception of the phrase in chapter 2:4. Von Rad expresses the common assumption of the critics on this usage: “The statement in chapter 2:4a is difficult. The formula is common in Genesis as a title.… Here, however, the passage cannot be a title, for the formula is exclusively Priestly. Another difficulty arises from the use of the word toledot in this verse, for the word means ‘family tree,’ ‘genealogy,’ literally ‘generations.’ “We assume that the formula, which represents a kind of chapter division in the Priestly document, was subsequently added to the chapter on creation because of the need for system. It then was used in this story with the exaggerated meaning, ‘story of origin.’ Since, however, the beginning of the chapter was canonically fixed, the interpolator had to be satisfied with adding the statement as a concluding word.” (29/61) Though not all critics would agree with everything von Rad said above, in general they all, while recognizing the intended unity, assume this unity was superimposed upon various documents from different sources, leaving contradictions and inconsistencies in the narratives, to embody all the various legends and traditions. Mythological Derivation To the internal differences noted above, the critics add the contention that the creation narratives were derived from mythological sources. With an attitude that brooks no disagreement, James states: “Originally the creation narratives were genuine myths, and there is no escape from the conclusion that they contain a large foreign element. The discovery of the Babylonian Creation stories has put this beyond all reasonable doubt.” (16/27–28) The critical school contends that the beginnings of the human race reach much further back than any written recollections we might possess. There was such a time span between the events and the recording of them that it is not feasible to expect the information to be trustworthy. They contend that there is not any sufficient reason to suppose that the Hebrews had more trustworthy information concerning the life and condition of the first humans than other nations of the ancient world. In their point of view, the Hebrew writers offer a picture of primitive times derived from the folklore of other nations. Therefore, it is hardly credible to press for historical details since we are not dealing with recorded history. (7/53) James closes the case for contradiction with a note of finality when he writes: “Any artificial attempt to reconcile these marked differences of style, outlook and subject-matter is bound to fail. The recognition that they belong to different periods, the second story being obviously the older and looking back to a still earlier time, is a sufficient and natural explanation of their inconsistency.” (16/38) The traditional position of the Church has been challenged and summarily dismissed. The Harmonists: Case and Answers The critics dismissed the traditional teaching with regard to the creation narratives, and, it must be admitted, in some cases rightly scorned the harmonists’ attempts to reconcile the narrative to the scientific knowledge of the times. Many of the harmonists early in this debate seemed intimidated by scientific claims and the overpowering scholarship exhibited by the critics, and were, to reiterate James’ words quoted earlier, “driven to the most desperate expedients” to try to answer the critics. As Taylor Lewis, in his note to Lange’s commentary, gently observes, “The attempt, however, of Lange, and of others cited, to reconcile the seeming difficulties can hardly be regarded as giving full satisfaction.” (22/201) Later in his note, he further comments on the attempts to harmonize (in reference to the preparatory recapitulation), “We admit the justness and beauty of the thoughts, but find it difficult to be satisfied with the exposition.” (22/201) To be totally fair to the critics, harmonists had rather ignored a few of the apparent difficulties. But even though the critics feel that the issue is now beyond dispute, in the words of Kidner, “It therefore seems worth pointing out that much of it falls very far short of proof.” (19/18) In the opinion of the harmonists, the critics have misunderstood the nature and the purpose of the account. As “It is a mistake to assume that the two Genesis narratives are duplicates, for they actually complement one another. The first outlined the broad process of creation and showed how all things emerged from the creative power of God, while the second paid greater attention to the creation of man and set him with his mate in a specific geographical location.” (33/1022) The material dealing with the creation in the first two chapters of Genesis should be treated as a unit for a correct understanding of the creation and its theological teachings. The second account is complementary to the first, dealing more fully with the creation of our first ancestors, while the initial account gives a description of the world which was being fashioned for Adam and Eve to occupy. Looking at the problem of differences between the two accounts, the harmonists see complementarity instead of contradiction. Kitchen remarks: “The strictly complementary nature of the two accounts’ is plain enough: Genesis 1 mentions the creation of man as the last of a series, and without any details, whereas in Genesis 2 man is the center of interest and more specific details are given about him and his setting. “There is not incompatible duplication here at all. Failure to recognize the complementary nature of the subject-distinction between a skeleton outline of all creation on the one hand, and the concentration in detail on man and his immediate environment on the other, borders on obscurantism.” (20/116–117) There is also unmistakable evidence of a close connection between the two chapters that becomes apparent when the problem of evil is considered. How is it possible for the good and beneficent God to have created a world filled with various sorts of evils? The solution to this question is treating the two sections as one. The former account reveals that the world was initially created very good by the hand of the creator (Genesis 1:31). The latter account relates how man’s transgressions are the cause of all kinds of evil (Genesis 3:6–19). When the two chapters are considered as a continuous whole, the answer is clear, but once the narratives are separated only half of the answer is learned. (6/78) The lack of cosmology in the alleged second account weakens the argument for contradiction. The latter account, supposedly coming from the hand of J in the ninth century, does not purport to be an account of the creation of the world. It only deals with Adam’s creation and the environment in which he was placed. Gleason Archer observes, “The obvious fact should be noted that no genuine creation account would omit mention of the creation of the sun, moon, stars, earth and seas, as Genesis 2 does.” (4/119) In addition, there is a tacit admission on the part of two of the leading proponents of this theory that the two chapters are not necessarily contradictory. From Dillman, there is the confession that the second story (chapter 2:4ff) at least in its present condition (emphasis added) contains only fragments of a history of creation, but in the main contains something entirely different. Driver, too, recognizes this fact somewhat grudgingly when he writes: “The separation between the creation of man and woman, if it stood alone, might indeed be reasonably explained by the supposition that 2:4bff was intended simply as a more detailed account, by the same hand, of what is described summarily in 1:26–39.” (7/p35N) The critics, aware of this difficulty in their arguments, seek to resolve it by invoking a redactor. As Dillman states: “One would expect that in what follows, either before or after vs. 7, mention would be made of the production of the vegetable world, and completing the formation of the world itself. “But there is nothing of the sort. There can hardly have been such a gap originally; it rather appears that something has been omitted by R, either because it seemed a needless repetition after chapter 1, or disagreed with chapter 1.” (14/23) James, with even more assurance, alleges, “It may be safely assumed that after having been edited and re-edited, perhaps not once but many times, its present form differs considerably from the original.” (16/37) However, this line of argument makes the critics’ case highly suspect. The first chapter places the stress upon divine complacency. This emphasis prepares the way for the fall of man as related in chapter 3. Chapter 1, therefore, should be regarded as introductory and the basis for the correct understanding of chapter 2. The second chapter assumes the creation of heaven and earth, sun, moon, and stars. Chapter 2, in reality, cannot be understood without chapter 1. (38/55) Upon close examination, the internal evidence is seen to be in accord with ancient Near Eastern literary practice. “(The) technique of recapitulation was widely practiced in ancient Semitic literature. The author would first introduce his account with short statement summarizing the whole transaction, and then he would follow it up with a more detailed and circumstantial account when dealing with matters of special importance. “To the author of Genesis 1, 2 the human race was obviously the crowning or climactic product of creation, and it was only to be expected that he would devote a more extensive treatment to Adam after he had placed him in his historical setting (the sixth creative day).” (4/118) The two stories of creation are typical of ancient scribble practices, but they are not duplicates, as many of the critical scholars have imagined. In actual fact, they are not even strict repetitions of one another. The first presents a general description of the creative situation as a whole, while the second account discusses one specific aspect of it, namely man in his physical environment, and then relates it to some particular geographical consideration. (15/554–555) Developing this thought further, Young writes that “to prepare the way for the account of the fall, chapter 2 gives certain added details about man’s original condition, which would have been incongruous and out of place in the grand, declarative march of chapter 1.” (38/55) Allis agrees with this analysis: “We often find that in describing an event, the biblical writer first makes a brief and comprehensive statement and then follows it with more or less elaborate details.… The account given here of the creation of man, generic man, male and female, is followed and expanded in chapter 2 by an account of the creation of Adam (2:7) and of Eve (21–25) which leads up to the account of the fall.” (2/82) The simplest explanation is almost always the best, and what would seem to be the best explanation of the differences in the two chapters is the simplest. As Taylor Lewis clearly explains, “The internal evidence (shows) that this second account recognizes the first and is grounded upon it, thereby disproving the probability of a contrariety either intended or unseen.” He goes on to state the explanation which he feels “is the one that would most obviously commend itself to the ordinary reader who believed in the absolute truthfulness of the account, and knew nothing of any documentary theory.” (22/201) According to the harmonists, the two narratives are a continuation of the same story. The second account is by the same author as the first, or by one in complete harmony with him. The latter account refers to all that had been previously stated as the foundation of what is now to be more particularly added concerning man, which may be called the special subject of the second part. (22/201) The initial account of creation is cosmic and comprehensive. It begins with matter that is formless and ends with man, created in the image of the infinite-personal God. Man is generic, male and female, and is commanded by the creator to be fruitful and multiply, and have dominion over all of the creatures. It is a summary account of divine fiats. The second account is an expansion of the concluding verses of the first account. It is a “close-up.” It does not speak of mankind in general, but the forming of a single pair. The man is fashioned from the dust of the ground, while the first woman is taken from the rib of man. The union of that pair, which is the basis of the commandment to be fruitful and multiply, concludes the first account. The latter account provides the details which the former narrative omitted. This takes us to the story of the temptation and the fall of this first set of humans who were to be the parents of all mankind. The second account, thus, expands the first by filling in important details that had been omitted. (2/119) General Differences In answer to the first general difference the critics note, that of the usage in divine names, the harmonists examine the purpose this has: “Elohim is plainly the appropriate name for God throughout this section, which regards the Most High as working in nature and in the world at large. True, the creative act may be ascribed to Jehovah (Exodus 20:11), when the thought to be conveyed is that Israel’s God, who brought him out of the land of Egypt, was the creator of the world; but when the announcement to be made simply is that the world had a divine creator, Elohim is the proper term, and is hence constantly used in the account of the creation.” (14/6) The name of God is, in the first section, invariably Elohim, while in the second account it is almost as constantly Yahweh-Elohim. This combination would seem to imply that Yahweh is the Elohim who created the world and that both words designate the same being. Although each designation expresses different attributes of His nature, He is one, and the only maker of the universe. Therefore, the compound term Yahweh-Elohim does not indicate anything opposed to the spirit of the first chapter, but to the contrary it strengthens and confirms it. This would remove any possible misconception that not Yahweh, as the God of Israel (Exodus 6:3) but, as the universal Lord, Elohim, has created the world. The latter account, by using the name Yahweh, advances a very important step towards the theocratical character of the Pentateuch, and when combining it with the name Elohim reminds us that He is the all-powerful creator. (17/72) Often liberal scholars will point out the fact that the compound Yahweh-Elohim is nowhere else repeated in Scripture, thus betraying diverse authorship. However, this can be explained by the proper understanding of the purpose of the narratives. In the first account, the mere external act of the creation of man was narrated, thus it was proper to designate God as the all-powerful being, the God of gods, or Elohim. In the following section, an internal change takes place in the heart of man by the entrance of sin into the world. Sin now replaces innocence, and misery takes the place of happiness. Therefore, it becomes desirable to introduce God by a name which implies holiness, thus Yahweh-Elohim was employed. That this idea was in the mind of the writer is evident by the striking fact that in the entire conversation with the serpent, not Yahweh-Elohim, but simply Elohim, is used (Genesis 3:1–5). It would have been profane to put the divine name into the mouth of the tempter. Thus, with the identity of Elohim and Yahweh having once been impressed, it was not necessary to repeat this later, except on specific occasions. Thus the context determines the proper usage of the name of God. (17/72) As to the issue of different conceptions of God, Kitchen points out that “the supposed contrast of a transcendent God in Genesis 1 with naive anthropomorphisms in Genesis 2 is vastly overdrawn and, frankly, illusory.” (20/118) Leupold concurs and states, “It should, however, be borne in mind that chapter 1… offered certain very prominent anthropomorphisms, which may very well be classed as arguing a conception of God no different from that of the next two chapters.” (23/107) In conclusion, Young provides details of the anthropomorphisms of chapter 1: “In chapter 2 an anthropomorphic conception of God is said to appear. God fashions, breathes, plants, places, takes, sets, brings, closes up, builds, walks, etc. But this objection is superficial. An anthropomorphic conception of God also appears in chapter 1. “Indeed, it is impossible for the finite mind to speak of God without using anthropomorphic language. Chapter 1 asserts that God called, saw, blessed, deliberated (vs. 26, ‘Let us make’). God distributed His work over a period of six days. He rested.” (38/56) The third general difference from the critical viewpoint concerns style, vocabulary, and grammar. Upon close scrutiny, however, these “differences” leave a lot to be desired. Kitchen dismisses this difference summarily when he writes: “The stylistic differences are meaningless, and reflect the differences in detailed subject matter.” (20/118) And as Young states, “The distinctive vocabulary indicates not a particular author, but is chosen because of the peculiar contents of the chapter. It would be difficult to write in Hebrew upon these subjects without employing this particular vocabulary.” (38/53–54) Wiener points out that the critics do have some excuse for this assumption of theirs that diversity of style proves different authorship: “The Hebrew text or the traditional explanation of the law did in fact appear to present some real difficulty or at least some justification for the contention of critics who had no special training and no qualifications for literary criticism.” (36/92) Simple logic brings Wiener to the lucid conclusion: “Would it not be easier to suppose that ‘P’ could vary his language when occasion demanded than to postulate this extraordinary machinery of lists and compilers?” (36/89) The stylistic differences are more apparent than real, and the logic employed above demonstrates effectively that style, which includes vocabulary and grammar, does not convincingly establish contradiction. C. S. Lewis, a valid critic in his own right, speaks from the “receiving end” of critical analysis and writes: “The idea that any man or writer should be opaque to those who live in the same culture, spoke the same language, shared the same habitual imagery and unconscious assumptions, and yet be transparent to those who have none of these advantages is, in my opinion, preposterous. There is an a priori improbability in it which almost no argument and no evidence could counterbalance.” (39/158) Specific Differences One objection with regard to sequence is that the initial account has creation beginning with the waters while the second account deals with creation from dry land. Cassuto cogently remarks with regard to this allegation: “This objection, however, is valid only if we disturb the unity of the text and regard the two narratives as independent accounts; in other words, if we consider as already proven what still remains to be proven. “If in truth, the combined sections form a continuous whole, it is clear that from the standpoint of the second section, too, creation commenced with the waters of the deep, which are mentioned at the beginning.” (6/73–74) The sequential differences with regard to the creation of man and woman are also a major point of contention, but if properly understood the problem vanishes. In the first creation narrative, man is referred to as one creature among many and he is mentioned only as a link in the great chain of creative events. The manner of his creation is described only in general terms. By the simple phrase “male and female created He them,” we are not told how they were made or if they were created at the same time. There is only the indefinite statement that they were created. In the second account, when the writer elaborates the story of mankind’s origin, it is explained in detail how man and woman were formed respectively. This is not a matter of inconsistency, but of a general statement followed by a detailed account, which is a common literary device in ancient Semitic writing. (6/74) The critical contention that vegetation did not appear until after the creation of man in the second account, in contradistinction to the first account when it precedes man, is another alleged problem that has a ready solution. Pieters points out: “The writer cannot have supposed that the absence of a farmer would prevent the growth of wild grass and plants; for everyone knows the contrary. The lack of a farmer accounts for the lack of farm plants only.” (26/78) Cassuto looks at the problem from a more general standpoint and offers a very plausible explanation of why vegetation would seem to follow man in the second account: “Here it is explained how they were planted—a general statement followed by a detailed description. What does the gardener do when he plants a new garden? Although he produces new trees from the soil, he does not create new species. Even so the Lord God did: in order to make the garden He caused good trees to grow out of its soil, of the species that He had already created on the third day.” (6/76–77) It also should be noted that, although the growth of the shrubs and sprouting of the herbs are represented here as being dependent upon the rain and the cultivation of the earth by man, it must not be understood that the words mean there was neither shrub nor herb before the creation of man. The shrub and the herb of the field do not embrace the whole of the vegetable productions of the earth. (18/77) An interesting botanical fact is that the plants which were created on the third day are those that are capable of reproducing themselves afterwards by means of seed. This would, therefore, exclude those for which seed alone is insufficient, since they need something else in addition, something that had not yet come into the world. There were not any thorns or thistles of the field, because Yahweh-Elohim had not caused it to rain upon the earth. The fields of grain had not yet sprung up, because there was not anyone to till the ground. Every summer, it is observed that, while the seeds of the thorns and thistles lie scattered on the ground in large numbers, not one of them springs up. However, as soon as the rain falls, the earth is covered with thorns and thistles. As for the fields of grain, even though isolated specimens of barley and wheat do exist in a natural state, they are not found in great quantities in any one place. Fields of grain are produced only by man. (6/76) Again, the alleged discrepancy fades under the application of logic and fact. The creation of animals after man in the second account proves a somewhat more difficult problem to resolve. However, this problem is not insurmountable, despite the critics’ allegations to the contrary. Much of the problem results over the assumption by the critics that the sequence of chapter 2 is chronological, when it never was meant to be understood in that manner, or as Young puts it, “To insist upon a chronological order in chapter 2 is to place a construction upon the writer’s words that was never intended.” (38/56) Taylor Lewis notes the same thing when he states, “The trouble springs from the assuming of a chronology, and endeavoring to find it, when the chief feature of this second narrative… is its wholly unchronological character.” (22/20) Thus, the sequential difficulty with regard to the creation of man and animals, understood from this viewpoint, disappears. However, the problem of tense in 2:19 still gives some trouble. Kitchen, in answer to Driver’s assertion that to render the first verb in 2:19, “had formed” would be “contrary to idiom,” writes: “In Genesis 2:19, there is not explicit warrant in the text for assuming that the creation of animals here happened immediately before their naming (i.e., after man’s creation); this is eisegesis, not exegesis. The proper equivalent in English for the first verb in Genesis 2:19 is the pluperfect (‘had formed’). Thus, the artificial difficulty over the order of events disappears.” (20/118) The second account does not teach the creation of man before the animals. The chronological order is not what is being stressed. Chapter 2 has described the formation of The sequence is not chronological, since there is not any justification to import the idea of time into the second chapter. The initial account of creation had already informed us of the chronological sequence; therefore, verse 19 may correctly be paraphrased, “and the Lord God having formed out of the ground every beast of the field, and every fowl of heaven, brought them unto the man.” (38/56) Kitchen develops this argument further and justifies the rendering “had formed”: “As pluperfect meaning is included in the Perfective, we cannot a priori deny it to contextual equivalents of the Perfective. Hebraists and others should also remember that no special pluperfect tenses exist in the Ancient Semitic Languages (or in Egyptian), this nuance being covered by prefective forms and equivalents interpreted on context as here in Hebrew.” (20/119) He further adds examples from Scripture to support this argument: “The meaning of any Waw-Consecutive-Imperfective must be settled on context, not by appeal to abstract principles… For Hebrew Waw-Consecutive-Imperfectives that require a pluperfect standpoint in English, cf: Exodus 4:19 (picking up 4:12, not 18); Exodus 19:2 (‘having departed… and come… they pitched… ’ picks up 17:1, not 19:1; these examples, courtesy Dr. W.J. Martin.) “Perhaps more striking, Joshua 2:22 (‘now the pursuers had sought them… ’) does not continue immediately preceding verbs. I Kings 13:12 (‘Now his sons had seen’ does not continue or follow from ‘their father said’) Driver, Treatise… p. 87, can only dispose of I Kings 13:12 by appealing to the versions.” (20/118–119 N. 19) But even if Driver’s assertion that the pluperfect rendering is contrary to idiom is absolutely correct (which the above examples from Scripture tend to negate), there is still the explanation set forth by Cassuto and Archer, which gives a plausible reason for the apparent contradiction in the order of creation with regard to man and animals. Archer concludes that the critics’ reasoning is faulty in regarding the account as chronological and point out the purpose for the order: “It is a mistake to suppose that Genesis 2 indicates the creation of the animal order as taking place after the origin of man. It only states that the particular individuals brought before Adam for naming had been especially fashioned by God for this purpose. (It does not imply that there were no animals anywhere else in the world prior to this time.)” (4/118) Elaborating on this line of thought, and carrying his explanation of the placement of vegetation in the creative order over to the placement of animals in the order of creation, Cassuto remarks: “We find in the second section that the Lord God formed out of the ground the beasts and the flying creatures (v. 19); whereas the first section informs us that the beasts and the flying creatures were created before man. But in this case, too, we have to be careful not to regard the words of the Bible as though they were isolated and unrelated to their context. “According to the continuation of the passage, the Lord God’s intention was to pass in review before the man all the species of animals in order that he should give them names, and endeavor to find among them a helper corresponding to him. “The cattle, which should have been the first to be considered in this connection, are not mentioned at all among the kinds of animals that the Lord God then made. Yet we are explicitly told afterwards that Adam gave names to the cattle, the beasts and the flying creatures (v. 20). “This implies that the cattle, owing to their nature, were already to be found in the garden with man, in agreement with the first section. But in order that all the various kinds of beasts and flying creatures that were scattered through the length and breadth of the world should also be represented in Adam’s abode, the Lord God formed, from the soil of the garden, beasts and flying creatures of every type previously created, and He brought them to the man.” (6/77) Again, better solutions are found to the apparent problems between the two chapters than those posed by the critics. Unity of Plan The unity of plan of Genesis is not at issue, but when and how the plan came is. As was noted earlier in chapter 2 of this discussion, the critics recognize this unity but attribute it to “P,” and then postulate that the unifying phrase originally stood before chapter 1 of Genesis and was transposed by a redactor. However, the formula, “These are the generations,” occurs ten times in the Book of Genesis, and in every instance but in 2:4 it is indisputable the title of the section to which it is prefixed. (14/9) The critics realize that 2:4 in its present position refutes their theory, hence the parcelling of the verse. They realize the way it stands, it rivets the second chapter to the first in more ways than one. Unfortunately, it could never have been the title of chapter 1, since the heavens and earth must first be created before its generations can be spoken of. The phrase in Genesis 2:4 does not introduce the account of creation of heaven and earth. Therefore we learn from this key phrase that 2:4ff does not profess to present an account of creation. Rather than being a duplicate account of the creation, verses 4–6 present the grand theme of the formation of man and the first stage of human history. (38/54–55) If the critics are correct in their analysis that the phrase in chapter 2 belongs in front of chapter 1, the title there would stand in no relation to the subsequent titles of the book. Grass and trees and animals supply no stepping-stone to the next title, “The Generations of Adam.” Adam is not introduced until 1:26, and he is merely mentioned in the general scheme of things. There is no record of what befell him or his family, as would be expected; therefore, 2:5–4:26 is necessary. The clause joins the first two chapters and cannot be removed by any critical device. It is, therefore, quite clear in this case that the clause, “These are the generations,” does not refer to the preceding section, but to what follows, and that it introduces a new subject. Since every other place this heading is used it precedes a section, the same should be the case with 2:4. Toledoth nowhere else expresses the idea of creation; rather, it always introduces an ensuing account of the offspring of an ancestor through the generations which descended from him. It, therefore, becomes obvious that in Genesis 2 we are dealing with an account of the offspring of heaven and earth, namely, Adam and Eve. This occurred after the initial creation had already taken place. (28/24) Thus, the internal evidence of the unity of plan in itself declares the critics’ analysis to be false in this regard, as well as the others. There was an evident intention to harmony which precludes the critics’ assumption of contrariety. There is a minority view regarding the clause, “These are the generations,” to the effect that the formula is a concluding sentence “to point back to the origins of the family history.” (37/50) Wiseman, after his examination of the new archaeological data, concluded: “The Book of Genesis was originally written on tablets in the ancient script of the time, by the Patriarchs who were intimately concerned with the events related, and whose names are clearly stated. Moreover, Moses, the compiler and editor of the Book, as we now have it, plainly directs attention to the source of his information.” (37/8) Henry Morris (The Book of Beginnings, p. 27) concurs with Wiseman’s analysis and points out that the events recorded prior to the clause “all took place before, not after, the death of the individuals so named, and so could in each case have been accessible to them.” This view of compiled documents is a plausible alternative explanation of the composition of Genesis. As Pieters noted, “The writer of Genesis may have used earlier documents which all historians do, or… he may have found the entire first chapter already in existence, written by some other hand, and incorporated it into his book. This would not be at all inconsistent with the divine inspiration of his work… ” (26/73–74) If true that Genesis is made up, in good part, of documents compiled into a single book, whose concluding sentence, “These are the generations of,” means origins and therefore refers back to what was just written, instead of a unifying formula which introduces what follows and means “offspring,” this would eliminate the problems of the first chapter not having a formula title and the inconsistency of having the clause conclude the first chapter and begin all the other sections. Either explanation, however, is more reasonable and natural than the critic’s assertions of contrariety. Mythological Derivation To the final major contention of the critical school that the creation accounts were derived from mythological sources, the harmonists point to both logical criteria and new discoveries to refute the contention. Kitchen points to the methodological weakness in this contention: “The common assumption that the Hebrew account is simply a purged and simplified version of the Babylonian legend… is fallacious on methodological grounds. In Ancient Near East, the rule is that simple accounts or traditions may give rise (by accretion and embellishment) to elaborate legends, but not vice versa. “In the Ancient Orient, legends were not simplified or turned into pseudo-history (historicized) as has been assumed for early Genesis.” (20/89) The sequential similarities between the Enuma Elish and chapter 1 of Genesis give rise to the contention that they were derived from the same mythological source. In the two stories, the following events take place in the same order: the creation of the firmament, the creation of dry land, the creation of the luminaries, and the creation of man. Both the Genesis account and the Enuma Elish begin with the watery chaos and end with the Lord or the gods at rest. (9/53) However, Jack Finegan notes, “It must be recognized that the differences between Enuma Elish and the Old Testament are far more important than the similarities.” (9/53) “From the time when George Smith first introduced the Gilgamesh Epic to English readers, it was commonly assumed that the original material underlying Genesis 1 as a whole was the Babylonian Creation Epic known as Enuma Elish, even though Wellhausen himself could discover no mythological ingredients in Genesis 1 save for chaos, a view that his followers either repudiated or ignored. “A more careful study of similarities and differences, however, has made it evident that resemblances between the Babylonian and Israelite cosmogonies are not as close as had been imagined previously.” (15/555) Kitchen carries this line of thinking much farther and points out the vast disparity in the underlying aims of the two accounts: “The aims of Genesis 1 and 2 and of the so-called ‘Babylonian Creation’ (Enuma Elish) are quite distinct. Genesis aims to portray the sole God as sovereign creator, whereas the primary purpose of Enuma Elish is to exalt the chief god of the Babylonian pantheon. “The contrast between the monotheism and simplicity of the Hebrew account and the polytheism and elaboration of the Mesopotamian epic is obvious to any reader.” (20/88–89) The mythological source derivation was a hasty contention born out of inadequate evidence and lack of logical attention to the text. More careful study shows it to be without basis in fact; logic shows it to be more likely that myth was born or developed from Genesis than the other way around. This contention of the critical school also carries no significant weight to proving contradiction. Analysis and Conclusions Having dealt with the specific discrepancies, and being able to conclude that for the most part the discrepancies are illusory, and where they are more real, as with Genesis 2:19, they can be better explained without recourse to alleging contradiction, it is necessary now to examine the presuppositional basis of the critics’ case, and their methodology. There are certain features of historical inquiry that the critical school would have done well to keep in mind. The first is that “in translating any ancient text, the first assumption is that the writer intended it to make sense; a rendering or exegesis that imports a contradiction is unsatisfactory.” (20/118 N.19) Coleridge provides an excellent criterion for approaching a document. “When we meet an apparent error in a good author, we are to presume ourselves ignorant of his understanding, until we are certain that we understand his ignorance.” (1/125) Long ago, Aristotle set forth a basis for evaluating documents which must be taken into account. He said that the “benefit of the doubt is to be given to the document itself, not arrogated by the critic to himself.” (25/47) These basic criteria, as set forth by Aristotle, Coleridge, and Kitchen, underlie all sound historical inquiry into ancient documents. However, further examination will show the failure of the critics’ case in their approach and basic presuppositions. It must be kept in mind that the radical view of the critic is based upon the subjective whim of the interpreters, not upon any objective external evidence. This is evident as Pieters explains the methodological assumptions of the critical school: “This hypothesis… is to the effect that there were… two distinct books, now lost, setting forth the ancient history of that people. The theory is that someone took these two histories, and without concerning himself much about their differences, or even contradictions, made one new book of them by weaving them together, taking sometimes a passage from the one and sometimes from the other. “To be sure, no one has ever seen any copy of either of the two works alleged to have existed, nor is there any reference to them in any ancient literature, nor was it so much as suspected by the learned Jewish scholars that they had ever existed; but modern Jewish scholars claim to have discovered them by analysis of the text now in our possession. “They believe that they can tell even in minute detail which separate verses in any chapter were written by the ‘Elohist’ and which by the ‘Jehovist.’ (He refers to the result as the ‘literary crazy-quilt.’).” (26/72–73) The critical school, instead of saying, “Here is a natural and sensible account which is obviously a unity,” often divide it between sources, alleging that the parts missing in one contained exactly the same information in the exact parts of the other. No matter how improbable this may appear, it is hardly possible to produce any reason that will convince the critics. Yet an unbiased person will have no doubts when he examines the facts. (36/114) The critics force the text to conform to their subjective view. Instead of adapting their theories to the evidence presented by the text, they insist upon reconstructing the text in accordance with their own theory. The advantage of a method such as this is that anyone can triumphantly establish whatever he desires to set out to prove. (14/36) It is a very simple thing to take two narratives or two parts of the same narrative, which have various points in common but describe different transactions, and lay them alongside of each other and point out their lack of correspondence. The work of the critics consists in identifying distinct things in the accounts from which different traditions, they claim, can be seen. These discrepant accounts, they contend, cannot be by the same author, but are from different documents. However, the simple fact is that there is not reason or occasion to come to such an extraordinary conclusion. It makes much more sense to contend that the writer has finished one part of his story, has proceeded to another and, as might well be expected, does not put in detail again that which he had immediately detailed before. (14/7–8) Kitchen concurs with this analysis of the methodology: “Internal agreement of rearranged literary material is readily achieved if contrary data are emended away, and agreement with the ‘history’ is equally easily attained if data in the historical books have also been duly ‘adjusted’ to fit in with views of what The “two creation accounts,” which brought about this whole scholarly journey, now are used as proof texts of the theory that was born out of the theory to explain the differences between the “two accounts.” Simply stated, the critics are saying that (1) the first two chapters of Genesis are contradictory because they came from two different documents, and (2) the documentary hypothesis is proved by the existence of double narratives and contradictions; for example, the first two chapters of Genesis. However, despite the related elements, the two sections in question cannot be held to be either duplicate accounts or even genuine parallels in the commonly accepted sense, for the initial account speaks in completely general terms, while the second narrative deals from a different standpoint with a specific pair of individuals dwelling in a single locality. (15/555) The work of the critics has had a destructive influence over the years. Many of their theories consist of building veritable castles in the air which are totally devoid of any solid foundation. Every support of the critics’ case can be shown to be no support at all and, to use Kravitz’ words, “might rightfully be described as a would-be answer to a would-be question about an imaginary explanation of a non-existent text.” (21/49–50) (He was referring specifically to the critics’ cavilling over Genesis 2:4.) Their case fails in presuppositions, in evidence and in methodology, and it is notable that when the critics get to that point, all else failing them, they postulate the redactor. Sometimes the critics sweep aside difficulties by asserting that the redactor altered the name of God. Other times they insist that the text is evidently corrupt. However, neither of these suppositions has any basis outside of the mind of the theorists. Their hypothesis supposedly is derived from the phenomena in the text as it stands; but if those phenomena do not suit their hypothesis, they are cast off as worthless. If the text is corrupt how can anyone trust the hypothesis that is derived from it? (30/120) Allis makes a brilliant observation in this same vein that the critical school conveniently overlooks: “It is to be noted, therefore, that every appeal to the redactor is a tacit admission on the part of the critics that their theory breaks down at that point.” (2/39) The admission of a final redactor is, therefore, fatal to the critical assertion of contradictions that are totally irreconcilable. A man of such tremendous ability as the redactor must have possessed would certainly have seen the contradictions if they were as blatant as the critics contend, and he would have removed them. (30/127) The critics’ case has been difficult to organize and answer along logical, consistent lines, which in itself is evidence that their arguments are illogical and inconsistent. As has been shown, the critics’ case has no external evidence to support it from archaeological discoveries, or form the resulting increase in knowledge of ancient Near Eastern literary styles. Wiseman aptly noted this when he stated, “These conjectures would never have seen the light of day had scholars of that time been in possession of modern archaeological knowledge.” (37/10) Answers to Tough Questions, Pg. 205 |
