Round Table

Round Table: Genesis and the Origins of the Universe

Every worldview must address—either implicitly or explicitly—certain questions about the universe. These include such big questions as “Is there a God?”, “What is reality?”, “What happens after we die?”, and “How did reality come into existence?” These are the inquiries of all minds and the answers to these questions deeply influence who we are and how we view the world. The topic of this month’s Round Table discussion centers on this last question, how the stuff around us that we call “the universe” came into being. Forming a coherent answer to this question has occupied the greatest minds of recorded history. Unsurprisingly, then, the Scriptures of Judaism and Christianity also provide a response to how the cosmos was formed: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”

However, the precise meaning of this verse—and the two chapters of “Creation Narrative” which follow in the Book of Beginnings, Genesis—remains a hotly debated topic today. Consideration of Genesis 1-2 has often led to extreme responses, ranging from rejection of the Biblical text as useless hokum from an unlearned and backwards age, to overly-detailed analysis of this passage as the key to understanding all of natural science, human learning, and theology. Seeking to find the via media (middle path) between these extremes for this month’s Round Table discussion, we asked our Authors and Contributors to reflect on the following question: How do we interpret Genesis 1-2 with regard to the origins of the universe?

Round Table articles are where numerous writers contribute their various perspectives as a forum for launching thoughtful and civil dialogue on important issues. In order to hear multiple voices, we have asked that responses be both brief and precise. Accordingly, the statements below are intended as starting places for thoughtful discussion, which we encourage you to pursue in the comments section below.


Fr. Lawrence Farley

Guest Author

Possibly no part of the Bible arouses more controversy and strong feeling than its opening two chapters on the creation of the world. In one corner of the cultural boxing ring we have those who regard those chapters as a literal description of how the world was made—with some exegetical wiggle room about the definition of the word yom or “day,” and therefore about the age of the cosmos. In the other corner we have those who regard such Creation Science—as it has been called—as self-evident nonsense, and those who passionately argue for it as medieval obscurantist throwbacks. In this contest, much time is spent arguing for or against “the Theory of Evolution.” I suggest that though it makes for great cultural theatre, both sides are misreading those opening chapters, which can only be read correctly when anchored in their cultural context.

John Walton, Old Testament professor at the evangelical Wheaton College, has done just such an anchoring job, and the results of his research can be found in his books Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament and The Lost World of Genesis One. Following him, I would suggest that the creation stories do not intend to teach science or update the cosmology of its original audience. The Hebrews who first received these stories shared a cosmology similar to everyone else in their day. For example, they believed that the sky was solid—a belief reflected in the Septuagint term for “firmament” in Genesis 1:6, stereoma, defined by one lexicon as “the solid part”—and that it was this solid sky which separated the waters above from the waters below. We moderns know that the sky is not solid, and so like to imagine that “the waters which were above the sky” must refer to clouds. In fact we read our modern cosmology into the text throughout, in a well-intentioned eisegesis. (We see such eisegesis in the visual depiction of the creation in the recent film Noah. There the primordial command “Let there be light” was fulfilled in the original “big bang,” when in fact it was fulfilled in the creation of time. Read the text carefully: the light was called “Day,” and was contrasted to “Night.”)

God was content to leave this ancient Near Eastern cosmology intact. He did not intend to give lessons in geography or astronomy, or teach that the world was round and of great age. These lessons would have meant nothing to their original hearers and done nothing to change or enrich their lives. God had more revolutionary and important lessons to teach in those early chapters, lessons which did not involve proclaiming a new cosmology which would only have bewildered its original hearers.

Foremost among those lessons was this: that their God, the deity worshipped by an obscure Hebrew set of tribes, was the creator, owner, and sovereign over the whole earth. Other pagan cosmologies mentioned a number of gods, and all of these are conspicuously absent from the opening chapters of Genesis. There Elohim (or Yahweh Elohim, as He is called in Genesis 2:4) is the only One involved in the earth’s creation. The other gods, the deities of the rival nations, do not even warrant a mention, doubtless because they were nothings, phantoms, idols. The subtextual message? “Our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases” (Psalm 115:3). This message needed to be heard, both then and now, as the People of God felt themselves powerless before greater international forces and mightier tyrannies. Israel need fear nothing, for their God was Lord of heaven and earth.

Another lesson involved the dignity of man. In the other ancient cosmologies, man was simply the provider of food for the gods, the keeper of their temples. The king was made in the divine image, and might be properly regarded as the son of the deity, but the common man—and still more, the common woman—were of no account and of little worth. Against this basic background, the Genesis creation stories declare that both the common man and the common woman were made in the divine image. Humanity did not exist simply to feed the gods; they existed as God’s regents and viceroys on the earth. They existed to subdue the earth and have dominion over it in God’s Name, which is what it meant to be God’s image. And note please: women shared this dominion equally with men (Genesis 1:27-28). The Genesis text proclaimed not only the monotheistic sovereignty of God, but also the revolutionary dignity of the common person. The lowest mud-covered peasant working the fields was God’s image, created to rule in his place. It was a more important lesson than any merely astronomical one, and a lesson we have not yet learned.

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Laura E2Laura Norris

Senior Editor at Conciliar Post

Genesis chapters 1-2 are the prime example of seeking multiple levels of meaning in Scripture. Multiple levels of meaning does not indicate that Scripture says multiple, ambivalent, or contradictory things; rather, there is a surface (literal) meaning to the text and deeper (spiritual) meanings about faith, morality, and God.

The Catholic Church, throughout its tradition, has upheld multiple levels of Scripture. The four most common levels of Scripture—known as fourfold exegesis—are literal, allegorical, moral, and eschatological; all spiritual ways of reading Scripture in relation to what it teaches us about faith, doctrine, morality, heaven, and Christ. The literal reading of Scripture, which most American Christians believe is the only way to interpret Scripture, only scratches the surface. A solely literal reading of Scripture is like looking at a church and remarking upon its architecture, without stepping inside, where there’s even more beauty and more opportunity to encounter God in worship.

When we approach Genesis 1-2 on a literal level, we read about God creating the earth and all its beings in seven days, and then specifically read an account of God creating the first man and woman. Thus, the literal meaning of Genesis is that God created the world in seven days, in the exact order as recounted in Genesis. Let’s step inside the reading now to examine the deeper, more spiritual meanings.

The Catholic Church supports theistic evolution, which is essentially the belief that evolution, as science describes it, happened—except that humans were uniquely created by God, rather than evolving out of different species. We believe that God created the universe and guided it throughout millennia of evolution. The fact that creation occurred over thousands of years does not negate the truth of Genesis. The truth of Genesis is that God created the universe, the earth, and humankind. Let us recall the Psalm that proclaims that a thousand years are like a day to God. God exists beyond of human constructs of time, therefore he creates beyond human understanding of time.

A more spiritual reading of Genesis 1-2, then, presents the truth that God created us because of his loving goodness. This spiritual reading points us beyond the technicalities, beyond the Jewish etiological storytelling of Genesis, to see that God is our Creator. We belong to God. By our very nature of being human, we are bonded to God, directed towards our Maker as our telos. Because God is our Creator, it is right and just that we praise him.

Furthermore, a deeper spiritual reading of Genesis 1-2 presents us with the ontological truth about humanity: God saw us and proclaimed us very good. Even as we live in a post-lapsarian world struggling against the temptations of sin and the forces of evil, humans are still, at the very root, good. Humankind is made in the image of its Creator, a Creator who is goodness, mercy, beauty, and love itself. Genesis 1-2 call us to see ourselves and fellow humans in this light.

Many of the Church Fathers urged Christians to avoid a literal interpretation of Genesis and to read the creation narrative in a more spiritual light. Saint Augustine warned particularly against a literal interpretation of Genesis, for those who wrongly used Genesis as science would risk putting off others to the Christian faith. The following quotation from Augustine’s “The Literal Meaning of Genesis” illuminates this point, which wonderfully summarizes how we should interpret Genesis 1-2 on the origins of the universe:

“Usually, even a non-Christian knows something about the earth, the heavens, and the other elements of this world, about the motion and orbit of the stars and even their size and relative positions, about the predictable eclipses of the sun and moon, the cycles of the years and the seasons, about the kinds of animals, shrubs, stones, and so forth, and this knowledge he holds to as being certain from reason and experience. Now, it is a disgraceful and dangerous thing for an infidel to hear a Christian, presumably giving the meaning of Holy Scripture, talking non-sense on these topics…If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods on facts which they themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason?”


Mike McHargue Headshot Outdoor - CopyMike McHargue (Science Mike)

Guest Author

Genesis is not a record of the creation of the Universe. Every attempt to paint it as such in the last 1,500 years has been undermined by a new storybook: the night sky. The Church once believed that the earth was the center of the universe, and this belief was essential to how people understood God. Geocentrism was a physical manifestation of a theological concept: God cared for humanity and made the universe to nurture his prized creation.

Nicolaus Copernicus shattered this view in the late 15th and early 16th centuries AD by demonstrating that the sun was the center of everything, and that the movement of objects in the sky were more elegantly described by an earth that orbited the sun and rotated on its titled axis. In doing so, Copernicus laid the foundations of modern science—and its tendency to challenge popular worldviews with data. Galileo stood on the shoulders of Copernicus with a telescope and cemented heliocentrism with rigorous observation, to the dismay of the religious leaders of his day. Newton then climbed on Galileo’s shoulders and created a new from of mathematics that demystified the actions of planets and stars–and ushered in the relentless march of modern science.

Read as a book about our origins, Genesis is absurd. Genesis talks about two original humans, while the historical archives stored in the DNA libraries of our cell nuclei say it’s unlikely there was ever less than 1,200 humans on this planet. Genesis tells us that trees weren’t made from stars, while receding galaxies and radiometric decay tell us that trees are made from the guts of stars that exploded long ago–paving the way for us.

Of course, there are some tantalizing reflections of modern science in these ancient pages. A universe that emerges from a formless chaos is not all the different than a universe that emerges from a singularity in a big bang—or more accurately, rapid inflation. Genesis also treats light as fundamentally important. We know that light speed is a constant critical to space-time and that the universe was quite chaotic in those early 380,000 years when it was too hot and dense for light.

Still, Genesis clearly reflects an ancient and outdated view of how the universe came to be. That makes a lot of sense because its authors were pre-Enlightenment and pre-science. Genesis was a story tied to the people who told it—a tribe seeking to differentiate themselves from the major powers of that era. While mighty Babylon told stories of a universe born from a great battle between gods, the ancient hebrews told of a God who made it all with nothing but words.

Genesis also talks about a God who formed us with special care and gave us a spirit in the form of breath. Genesis begins by pondering what’s different about us versus other animals, and what’s different between living things and other parts of creation. And God sets creation in motion, tasking it with creating more. Trees make more trees, fish make more fish, and mankind is left to steward it all—a prescient prediction giving our current globe-spanning infrastructure.

Genesis leads us to wrestle with the burden of ethical and moral insight, compared to our more-free animal companions on the planet. We have tasted the fruit of knowledge and can never turn back to that prior innocence. Most powerfully, Genesis speaks to our innate need for companionship—it is not good for us to be alone. We still need suitable helpers to walk through our gardens today.

We don’t interpret Genesis in regard to the creation of the universe. We interpret it in regards to being alive and aware in the universe, and it whispers to us across thousands of years. Genesis says that others have walked this road, that others have looked up at the night sky in rapture and wonder, trying to know “why?”

And those people met God—just as we have. They, too, felt naked and exposed when they pondered the Glory of the Source of all.

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Ben WinterBen Winter

Author at Conciliar Post

Johannes Kepler published the Astronomia Nova in 1609. Its purpose was to provide evidence that “the earth is moved and the sun stands still.”1 Yet one of his first concerns is not scientific in nature. In fact, he dedicates more than half of the work’s introduction to Biblical exegesis. Why? To show that a heliocentric universe is not contrary to the revealed truth of Scripture. There were many in Kepler’s time who believed that the Bible—particularly passages such as Ps 93:1 and Josh 10:12—definitively placed the earth at the center of the universe.2 To them, Kepler stated: “Holy Scripture, when treating common things (concerning which it is not their purpose to instruct humanity), speaks with humans in the human manner, in order to be understood by them.”3 You’ve probably heard the phrase, “The Bible is not a science textbook.”  Kepler not only advances this sort of argument, he also provides a viable hermeneutic for interpreting difficult passages: God speaks to humans in ways that they can comprehend.

Let us consider the context of the Joshua 10. It would have made no sense for Joshua to petition the Lord to “make the earth stand still.” When this miracle occurred, Joshua naturally assumed what is now recorded in Scripture, that the sun stood still. This is, after all, what he observed! God understood what Joshua was asking for, and God allowed the Sacred Text to record something astronomically incorrect in order to pass on the more important message of God’s providence and care. As Kepler brilliantly asserts, we should “regard the Holy Spirit as a divine messenger, and refrain from wantonly dragging Him into physics class.”4 Today, the rotation of the earth around the sun has been firmly established. So why bother rehashing old arguments? Because Kepler’s principles, expanded in light of the current teachings of the Catholic Church, are also applicable to Genesis 1 and 2.

How to read Genesis 1 and 2—this is first and foremost a question of how to read the divinely-inspired Word. In the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation (Dei Verbum), the Second Vatican Council Fathers maintain a delicate balance between divine and human agency in the process of inspiration: “God chose men, and while employed by Him they made use of their powers and abilities, so that with Him acting in them and through them, they, as true authors, consigned to writing everything and only those things which He wanted.” (11) The authors of Scripture write in human fashion and are, like us, conditioned by their cultural contexts and by their knowledge of this world. Because the Bible as a whole transcends and illuminates those contexts with its salvific message of God’s love for humanity, it will never lose its freshness, and it will never cease to speak to humanity.

The primary purpose of the opening chapters of Scripture is not to give a literal account of the origins of the universe. For one, these passages do not even agree on whether human beings or animals were created first (see Gen 1:24–26 vs Gen 2:18–19). More importantly, what they do show is that God is the creator of all things, that God has ordered all things rightly, and that God and humanity share a special relationship. The fact that no human being can wrap his or her mind around the origin of the universe—a philosophical quandary quite separate from theories of growth in time—takes nothing away from these truths. Lest we become like the geocentrists of Kepler’s day, who were forced to separate “truths of faith” from “truths of science,” let us defend the value of our Sacred Text with poise and precision, remaining sensitive to the work of the Holy Spirit, in and through human words.

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Jeremy_Kolansky_profileJeremy Kolansky

Guest Author

The question at hand is how we interpret Genesis 1-2 with regards to the origin of the universe. Among Christians (using that term pseudo-loosely) there are two typical creation events that are commonly talked about. One of these tends to overlap with Atheists, apart from the fact that Christians claim to know what happened before the 10^-32 second, whereas the Atheists (if they’re honest) don’t have a clue. The second model of the creation event—“Young Earth Creationism”—holds that the story of Genesis is a literal, or functional, declaration of the creation of the world, rather than being a novel poem, literary tale, or parable.

I have studied in Cosmology, Stellar Structure, and Planetary Structure. I have seen the Atheist’s scientific models, logical palisades, and brilliant mathematics. They talk of comets from the Oort cloud seeding our planet with water; or of Mars crashing into Earth to create the Moon and to give us the rotation we call day and night. They speak of asteroids impacting the planet to wipe out the dinosaurs or of chemical debris patterns; it is impressive. I found myself at times almost wishing it were true: “Can you imagine if God manipulated all these forces to create our Earth? How amazing it would be!”

Yet, I could not say that. Why? Two reasons come to mind. First, it is impressive that God would so manipulate the forces to create such a system, but it isn’t more impressive than simply creating it all in the first place. The idea that it is impressive is because we have a hard time grasping the magnitude of simply creating it in the first place. We understand how awesome it is to manipulate plasmas, comets, even gravity. Yet we have no idea how magnificent it is to create those in the first place. We are lured by the Knowledge of Good and Evil. We are lured by the glory of this world.

Second—and the more primary argument against such an idea—if God made it perfect at the beginning, why did life have to “evolve?” Why would he have to manipulate all these things to create something better, if, in fact, He made it perfect to begin with?

The account of Genesis 1-2 does not hold with accounts of evolutionary theory. Plants before sea creatures—when, supposedly, life began in the seas. There are rivers of water to cover the ground and to feed the plants (Gen 2:6), unlike comets crashing into the planet—which would have destroyed such life. Much more can be said on the topic, of course, but we’ll leave that for the comment section.

Before I close, there is one last thing that should be addressed: there is the oft quoted passage “A day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day to the Lord” (2 Peter 3:8). Some would use that for “Old Earth Creationism.” Even if that were good exegesis, or could make this Genesis account span so many years, it still does not answer the question of why God would cause things to evolve from what was created perfect or whole. God is sovereign over time. Peter says that time is like this for the Lord, but nowhere does the Bible state that it is this way for created beings or matter. God is outside of time, creation lives within the constraints of time. Let us take God at his word—about time, his sovereignty, and how he created the world.

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Round Table discussions offer insights into important issues from numerous Conciliar Post authors. Authors focus on a specific question or topic and respond with concise and precise summaries of their perspective, allowing readers to engage multiple viewpoints within the scope of one article.

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  • Daniel Bull

    Thanks for the discussion here. One point I wonder about is how the contributors reconcile the creation of man with the idea that we are created in the image of God, as opposed to the animals. My struggle is in recognising the uniqueness of humanity, to not attribute godliness to all of creation, and also to understand the origin of sin if, as one contributor suggested, there were always at least 1,200 humans. I may be raising a few too many questions, but please pull whichever thread you feel comfortable with.

    • Daniel, welcome to CP! I appreciate the questions you raise, as I tend to see Genesis 1-2 as describing the actual Creation, not just a fuzzy idea of Creation. After all, when does the ‘general idea’ of the account spin off into reality? After Genesis 3? After Genesis? After the OT? It’s hard to tell if you don’t read it all as history/truth.

      You bring up a great point–if so many of the authors above think that God used evolution to bring about humanity, how can we be made in God’s image? Many of the same authors claimed that we absolutely *are* made in God’s image in our RT on that topic a few months ago… It seems a non sequitur to say that humans came from slime, stars, animals, or anything other than the hand and breath of God, as stated in Genesis 1-2.

      • Benjamin Winter

        I too am genuinely curious about these details of a potentially theistic evolution, including what the real differences are between models that see Adam and Eve as the first human beings (i.e. models sanctioned by the Catholic Church) and those that do not. Especially, I’d like to know more about about how the death inherent in a “survival of the fittest” model can be reconciled with the Scriptural witness that death came through sin (cf. Rom 5:12 and 1 Cor 15:21).

  • At the risk of stating the obvious, the collection of answers provided in this roundtable highlight an important takeaway in addition to suggestions for how to best understand Genesis 1-2: this isn’t a binary issue, where you end up either agreeing with a Young Earth Creation understanding or some sort of theistic evolution. There are options in addition to these two perspectives.

    Again, some might find this obvious, but I’m not sure that it is for many conservative Protestants. In the circles that I grew up in, it seemed like you fell into either one camp or the other and, in retrospect, that quite a bit of the argumentation (at least on the Young Earth side) was focused on proving the other side wrong rather than your side right.

    I’m still wresting through how to look at these chapters, but in the meantime it seems wise to consider the broader range of positions. This will allow us to avoid the twin downfalls of not thinking through our hermeneutic on the one hand and tying our interpretation to science’s current propositions on the other.

  • Hmmm, some good responses here but it seems we didn’t have a wide variety of responses. It would have been nice to see more evangelical and mainline Protestant perspectives (we need to recruit more of them for Conciliar Post in general).

    Fr. Farley, thanks for your excellent response. I have at least one of your books on my shelf and have read articles by you elsewhere, so it’s exciting to have a prominent voice in American Orthodoxy joining us.

    Indeed, to read Genesis 1-2 as a “literal” account does a serious injustice to the writers of the Hebrew scriptures who never intended those books to be read in that manner. Fr. Farley rightly points out the two main lessons we should take from those chapters: man as made in the image of God and God as the sovereign Creator of all.

    We see evidence of evolution at some level all around us. The science of vaccines is built upon evolutionary biology. The whole reason we have to get a new flu shot every year is because the virus evolves. The reason chemical companies have to keep developing new formulas for insecticides and herbicides is because plants and bugs evolve and develop resistance to those chemicals. It would seem that God’s plan includes those things we deem “pests” and “weeds” and no matter what we do to try and get around God’s plan for life on earth, His handiwork always wins. So evolution at some level seems to be built into the very fabric of life.

    Modern biology is simply incomprehensible without evolution, although how we understand that seems to be changing constantly. Darwinian evolution seems to be giving way to new ways of understanding the process (I’m just starting to read about these so I can’t elaborate further on that point right now). What we Christians cannot accept is a view that writes God out of the story. So much of modern science, at least to me, seems to point to a creator. Quantum physics, Gaia theory, anthropic principle, and other contemporary scientific ideas all show me just how much faith it takes to be an atheist, to believe all of this came from chance. A chance so ridiculously astronomically high that one would have to more faith than the most devout Christian monk to have ever lived…

    • This seems to be the major problem—we do try to get more “fundamentalist” voices in these Round Tables, but most are just not interested. Hence, the glaring absence in this Round Table, specifically.

      • Well I guess that would be a given, the definition of a fundamentalist is someone who won’t participate in dialogue with others because “why talk with those who are dead wrong.” I was speaking more of non-fundamentalist evangelicals and other Protestants…oh well, I still love learning and hearing from all the Orthodox and Catholic writers here.

        • Benjamin Winter

          I agree with what you say, Chris–some other Protestant voices would have been a boon for balance. Short of stipulating that x number of people from x number of traditions must participate in a roundtable for it to run, though, it is impossible to achieve desired outcomes every month. Elaboration: as a roundtable participant I had no knowledge of what anyone else was writing. I now see, for example, that my idea to open with geocentrism vs heliocentrism wasn’t quite as original as I though it would be. 😉 But I didn’t have a way of knowing that beforehand. Likewise, as a Roman Catholic who volunteered to give his perspective, I had no way of knowing how many others would provide a similar one (although Laura’s response, thankfully, highlights issues I did not have time to treat).

          Basically what I’m saying is that unless we restructure the process for creating a roundtable discussion, there are simply going to be times when a diversity of voices/opinions won’t come to the fore. Of course, the positive aspect of the current structure is that anyone can contribute, depending solely on their interest in the topic. I recall roundtables in the past with a great number of voices, and smaller ones as well. Moving toward mandatory diversity in responses would, by default, change that dynamic into something more rigid and structured (with its own separate pros and cons).

          • Before you hopped on board at Conciliar Post, we had a slightly different way of doing Round Tables . . . See, for instance, the Round Table on Communion—where each participant was provided with ever other participants article and the option to respond. (https://conciliarpost.com/christian-traditions/eastern-orthodox/round-table-communion/)

            I think we are still figuring out what works best 🙂

          • Definitely some good points to think about! It’s fascinating to see which issues really get people riled up and which ones people are like “whatever” on. The Conciliar Post project as a whole seems to show which traditions really care about conciliarity as well.

          • And…I’ll just add that I’m sorry I couldn’t/didn’t contribute this time around. These chapters are something I’ve newly realized need further wrestling through…and I’m always a bit hesitant about presenting perspectives that I haven’t completely thought through. 🙂 In case it helps, I did leave a comment that would probably have been a summation of where I’m at, had I written a full length response.

    • I am a mainline protestant, for what it’s worth.

      • Cool, thanks! I know sometimes when new people contribute, it isn’t always clear which perspective they are coming from. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us!

    • Jeremy Kolansky

      I get really ansy anytime someone says not to read it literally. I agree that the words and structures, the culture and all the rest may have changed over the years; that the words could potentially no longer convey the same ideas they may once have. And yet, I have to then ask the questions: If one part of it no longer means what it says, does any part? If that’s true, who decides what is still accurate and what is false? Also, if God is God, and He is all powerful, why is it impossible for His words to maintain their meaning even over the generations? If He didn’t intend for us to read it and take it as what it says, why have it recorded as such?

      Yes, we see evolution — in the sense of modification (micro-evolution, adaptation). Lateral evolution. We see decaying evolution, not increasing complexity evolution (macro-evolution: flower -> bird). What we see is the increase in entropy over time. Starting from a perfect system, it decays overtime (albiet slowly).

      Also, when we set out with the view of “My theory must be true” we look for results that prove that theory to be true. Biased searching leads to biased results. Data is analyzed first, conclusions are drawn second. Not the other way around. We say macro-evolution must be true (because we want it to be, otherwise, without God, how did we get life?) therefore we use that lens when we interpret the data. The problem is that there isn’t enough data. We cannot observe the creation event. All we have is a rickety set of fairly modern observations. We must extrapolate, and when we extrapolate we must use assumptions. Do our assumptions override what is written in Scripture because of what Athiest scientists say?

      It’s a tricky subject….

      • You make a good point: we absolutely cannot observe the creation event.

        I would add that we must be careful not to deify scripture. We must be careful not to claim that the words of Genesis are “God’s words.” That distinction remains with Christ as John tells us in his gospel. The words of Genesis are definitely inspired by the Divine Creator, but shouldn’t be considered God’s word directly. As Fr. Farley points out, we must know what the point is in the text we are reading. Genesis is read to point us to God and give an approximation of creation. All human words are in fact just approximations in the face of the Divine.

        • Jeremy Kolansky

          That’s true, my thought is that we should be very careful in how we add to, subtract from, or modify the text. What is our goal when doing so? To seek Christ and His will, or to follow the Knowledge of Good and Evil?

          • Benjamin Winter

            Chris, I understand and appreciate what you are saying here, however, I would phrase it differently. The words of Genesis are most-certainly “God’s words,” they are simply mediated through humanity. The quote from Dei Verbum that I use above (and indeed the entire document itself) sharpens the contours of what the divine/human interplay with respect to inspiration means…

            Now I have a few questions for Jeremy (hello, by the way!):

            1) Does a non-literal reading of passages like Ps 93:1 and Josh 10:12 also make you uncomfortable? Why or why not?

            2) Do you believe that every passage of Scripture “says what it says” in the sense that only one meaning is possible? In other words, do you see room for both literal and allegorical/spiritual interpretations of passages? Why or why not?

            3) You are correct to raise concerns about who chooses how to interpret what passages. The entire history of Christianity is taken up with these questions. =) My pushback is as follows: The Holy Spirit has guided the Church into an understanding of what Scripture teaches. The Holy Spirit was, doubtlessly, involved in the creation of the Bible itself and in the compilation of the Bible into an accept “canon” of Books that we know today. Finally, the Holy Spirit directed Church leaders to articulate foundational doctrines like the Trinity, doctrines that do not arise “self-evidently” from reading the Scriptures. Do you believe that this guidance occurred? If so, what need is there to ask “Who decides what is still accurate and what is false?” Thanks for your time and thoughtful answers. If you don’t feel comfortable answering these questions, just consider them food for thought. =)

            • I think Chris means they are not words that God “dictated” and then were written down word-for-word.

              • Benjamin Winter

                That makes sense. I should have realized this was the import of the phrase “shouldn’t be considered God’s words directly.” Apologies, Chris!

                • Jeremy Kolansky

                  As an afternote, there is much debate in how to translate the original texts that we have. Some phrases’s meanings are lost entirely. Obviously, we cannot therefore exactly assume that the words laid down have infinite precision. At the same time, we state that God’s word is infalliable and accurate. It’s a bit of a paradox, really.

                  I dislike ignoring words on the premise that our “modern” understanding of science tells us they cannot be true. You will never be able to describe the creator by what is created. It’s a fundamental law in science. You cannot make your data show what it does not (Observability). If you want to do that, you must make assumptions, and those assumptions could be wildly wrong. The creation is not the creator.

                  Why then should our human, relative understanding of the creation trump what the creator desired to be penned?

                • That was my fault for not being more specific. Thanks for the comments!

              • Yes, that was what I meant. Thanks Ben1 and Ben2.

            • Jeremy Kolansky

              Ben,

              Having read over and thought about these things for a bit, I appreciate the different perspectives.

              1) I do agree that the word is laid down as God intended through the interpretation of His people. From the perspective of Joshua, what he said made sense. I don’t necessarily think he had to believe that the Earth stood still and that the Sun revolved around it, but merely that he asked for the day/night cycle to halt. I.E. There is the meaning of day/night from the perspective of celestial bodies moving, and there is the meaning of day/night from the progression of the light/dark cycle we observe. The question is whether these things all agree conceptually, not so much exactly literally.

              2) I believe that God is an infinite being with the ability to instill all of His characteristics into His word. Therefore, I believe that there is truth contained in His word, and also that He reveals different aspects of that truth as He chooses (for we are able to understand that truth only by the Holy Spirit). The words are merely representation of those truthes, because, by very nature, the words have slightly different meanings to each of us. Words are relative, truth is absolute. To sum up, yes, I believe that there can be an arbitrary number of “meanings” to a section, but those meanings across the whole of the system must be in agreement. The concepts, systems, or “thoughts” if you will, must all be in alignment. Which does not preclude multiple interpretations, but does preclude conflicting interpretations.

              3) The trinity is implicitely defined via various mentionings of the different aspects of God (I use this phrase with a cringe). But it’s true non-the-less. That God is shown to be represented in this world in three distinct ways. I do believe that God guides His people. The need to question is because we are told to test things (1 John 4:1, 1 Thes 5:21ish). I realize those are imperfect examples, but they still highlight what I want to.

              We can look at the Bible and use the words there to determine various pieces of knowledge about God, or (not to the exclusion of the first, but I don’t have a better word) we can use the worlds as descriptors of a system that is behind the words. I.E. What is hte probability of the words to have occured at random, or what is the probability of the words given a system? The question is then, what system best fits the words. The words are descriptors of an underlying system. Perhaps a good example of this is: The law, with all of it’s *words* is summed up by the systems “Love God, and love your neighbor.” Therefore, the system that best fits those words is “Love God, and love your neighbor.” Now, in reading the text, what system best fits the words we see?

              The answer, I would posit, is Christ.

              I’ve said a lot of things, and I hope I don’t come off too strongely. I have appreciated the different views, and it has made me refine what I, apparently, so coarsely thought on the subject. I would be most appreciative of continued dialogue.

              • Not at all, that was a great summation!

              • Benjamin Winter

                Interesting responses! Thanks for being willing to engage my questions. I’m not quite sure I follow you throughout #3, but I certainly agree with your first point about defining God through Scriptural language about God. I’d recommend Pseudo-Dionysius, The Divine Names, Chapter 1 for an excellent discussion of how we advance to knowledge of God despite the fact that words and metaphors for God are inadequate.

                Toward the end, I agree that Christ is the key to unlocking the Scriptures. But I’d say our knowledge of who Christ is has been clarified and refined by the Church, specifically by ecumenical councils where heresies were refuted and formulas to describe the esse (“being”) of Christ were solidified. Without these developments in Christian doctrine, Christianity could certainly still exist–but would be missing a richness of theological understanding that comes from centuries of prayerful reflection on the Sacred Text and on the witness of “Christ-bearers” (saints, everyday people, etc.) throughout time. =)

                • Jeremy Kolansky

                  It’s certainly possible that the Lord uses the church to further His goals 🙂 However, just because He can, does not always mean that He must.

                  It’s quite possible it would miss that richness of theological understanding… I grew up in a Messianic Jewish Congregation. It seems to me that I grew up in an environment that didn’t do much with those christian councils. Obviously they had some to do with them because we had Bibles. But we also had the Torah, in Hebrew. Those councils most definitely had an impact, but I now wonder how much and in what areas?

                  As I think about it, I want to be able to say that scripture itself should be enough of a source to detail the things of God. I.E. Who should decide what else should be added? At the same time, I have to admit that it was men (surely guided by God) who decided what was originally bound into the book we call the Bible….

                  I’ll look into that book. It seems interesting so far.

                  • Benjamin Winter

                    Fascinating! I’m very happy to hear your perspective, as I have never met someone with messianic-Jewish background.

                    I agree with you that Scripture details all of the things of God, gladly noting your admission that human beings (also inspired, in some sense) decided which books to include and exclude. I’d still say that Scripture requires interpretation, however, and that this interpretation is a theological activity or a kind of conversation that has been growing and maturing throughout the centuries. Such interpretation is best practiced in a community rather than alone–although individuals are certainly capable of reaching truth simply by tolle, lege (taking and reading the Scriptures). For example, I believe it is possible for someone to read the Scriptures, without hearing anything from the Church, and get some idea of the Trinity. But why would such a person want to exclude themselves from the communion of saints by purposefully ignoring all that had been written previously on that topic? To do so would be uncharitable and prideful, because we must always admit that we have the possibility of erring. Where the Church comes in is that, as the collective unity of the Body of Christ, its interpretations of Scripture (on matters of Faith and Morality) cannot err. I do need to think more about how these claims, and the arguments about the ecumenical councils, relate to people who identify, to any extent, with non-Christian communities…I guess I’d say the best practice would be to go back and examine the history oneself, and see how it is that the Early Church managed to emerge with unified doctrines on anything, because it was certainly very difficult! In my post from March 6 (“Journey to Catholicism Part I”) I recommend 3 books on the early church that may be worth checking out as well! Peace be with you.

          • Another important point.