The Book Of

Nota Bene
Dr. Peter Leithart
Fr. Wayne McNamara
Joshua Gibbs
Jeremy Huggins
Ben Downey
J. Thomas Stevenson
Abby Stevenson
Jenny Sullivan
Joy Sullivan
Kristin Sullivan
Seth Powers
Jon Paul Pope
Dan Sack
Matt "Guido" Yonke
Nate & Hannah Wolff
Mark Caldwell
Erin Caldwell
Jared Owens
Eric Dau
Laura Blakey
Katy Cummings
Mary Wolff
Amy Kress
Stephanie Westfall
Kristy Roberts
Kristen Perry
Evan Wilson
Christ the King
Trinity Reformed
New St. Andrews

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Of Jordan on Genesis

In response to my posts on the Genesis creation account, Dan Sack posted a link to this article by James Jordan, to which I would like to respond in turn. Jordan presents seven reasons for understanding the creation-days of Genesis 1 as twenty-four-hour periods; I'll address them in order:
  1. Notice that Jordan has assumed that the division of light from darkness is a division in time, which is why he sees "Day" as "light-time" and "night" as "dark-time." This is a reasonable enough assumption, on the face of it, but it should be noted that the text itself does not define "Day" as light-time, but rather applies "Day" as a sort of proper name of light. God names the light "Day," and the darkness "Night"--the things themselves, not the periods of time in which we generally experience them. Time is never mentioned. In fact, "Day" is not separated from "Night" until day four, when celestial bodies are created to separate them, and it is there that the concept of time is first mentioned explicitly.
  2. This point is interesting because Jordan's reading becomes less consistent than mine. Jordan sees the use of the word "day" in Gen. 2:4 as essentially different than its use throughout the first chapter. I see the usage as essentially the same--when the "days" are seen as discrete creation-acts of God, then naturally whenever the creation process as a whole is considered as a single unit (a single "act"), it is described as a "day."
  3. Once again, I do not see a problem with the days of God's working-week providing the basis for the days of our working-week. Of course God created in such a way as to provide a pattern for our labors. But notice that my understanding is more sacremental--our week is an earthly reflection of God's week; it is not exactly the same thing. It lifts us into his life by a ritual approximation of his actions, but his actions (and his "week") are greater than ours.
  4. I agree with Jordan here. Don't see a problem.
  5. I have one minor quibble, and then a more substantial disagreement. The sun was not "made to fit the pre-existent length of the day." The sun doesn't regulate the length of our days; the earth does. That's minor, but there is actually a major disagreement/difference of understanding at stake, in that I simply and fundamentally disagree with Jordan's belief that qualities like duration of time have some essential reality apart from the material (or spiritual) systems that they describe. To assert that they do smacks of rank Platonism to me. I see nothing in scripture that encourages such a view. It's bad philosophy and bad science.
  6. I agree--Gap Theory is dumb.
  7. I also see the Framework Hypothesis as fundamentally flawed, in that it renders the creation account non-historical. The book of Genesis is a history, and needs to be understood as such.

posted by Jeremy at 7:31 AM
1 marginalia

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Of the Trouble With Teilhard

What is one to make of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin? My understanding of his thought is still rather impressionistic (and some would claim that his own was as well), but what I do understand of it I find simultaneously fascinating, attractive (in certain respects), and off-putting (in others). Was he profound or profoundly in error? Was he a saint or a heretic? Or, perhaps, was he a little of all of these things?

Teilhard is easy to despise, if one is of a certain temperament. He wrote in a style that is at once heartfelt, ecstatic, heady, pretentious, and obtuse. He was an idealist's idealist, a mystic's mystic. He was also a modernist, while at the same time a critic of modernistic materialism. The Incarnation of Christ was the central concept of all his thinking, but (from what I understand), he understood this as occurring gradually over millennia through the evolution of mankind towards its Omega point (Christ, who becomes a sort of personalized telos rather than the Savior of mankind), rather than the intrusion of the divine Word at a particular time in history. It's like he had this profound understanding of all the implications of Incarnational and Trinitarian reality, while finding the historical events that reveal that reality incredible or irrelevant.

How does grace apply to such a man as Teilhard, who personally denied Original Sin, and thought that evolution, in some sense, "saved" God, but nevertheless always remained in humble submission and willful allegiance to the Church, recanting the public profession of those of his beliefs that Church authorities pronounced unacceptable, while privately continuing to explore them? Who fervently believed that Christ would be made "all in all" through the intrusion of God's life into the world by means of the Body of Christ, but didn't seem to find Christ as an historical personage terribly interesting? Who understood that humanity (and by extension, the cosmos) would only be saved in and through Christ, but denied a Fall from which creation must be redeemed?

How could one man have been so profoundly right in certain central aspects of his theology, while profoundly wrong in other, similarly central aspects? How could one man have displayed the fervent life of the Spirit, and the confusion of a spirit of error? As I try to perceive the Body as more fundamentallly organic than ideological, I would like to believe that when Teilhard finally encounters the Parousia he longed for so desperately, he will be greeted rather as Bree the talking Docetist horse was by Aslan in The Horse and His Boy:

"Now, Bree," he said, "you poor, proud, frightened Horse, draw near.
Nearer still, my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell
me. Here are my paws, here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a
true Beast."

"Aslan," said Bree in a shaken voice, "I'm afraid I must be rather a
fool."

"Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human
either."

Currently Reading
The Future of Man
By Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

posted by Jeremy at 3:01 PM
0 marginalia

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Of a Prayer

The following has come to be my favorite prayer out of the 1963 Book of Common Prayer:
O ALMIGHTY Father, thou King eternal, immortal, invisible, thou only wise God our Saviour; Hasten, we beseech thee, the coming upon earth of the kingdom of thy Son, our LORD and Saviour Jesus Christ, and draw the whole world of mankind into willing obedience to his blessed reign. Overcome all his enemies, and bring low every power that is exalted against him. Cast out all the evil things that cause wars and fightings among us, and let thy Spirit rule the hearts of men in righteousness and love. Repair the desolations of former days; rejoice the wilderness with beauty; and make glad the city with thy law. Establish every work that is founded on truth and equity, and fulfill all the good hopes and desires of thy people. Manifest thy will, Almighty Father, in the brotherhood of man, and bring in universal peace; through the victory of thy Son, Jesus Christ our LORD. Amen.

posted by Jeremy at 2:52 PM
1 marginalia

Monday, July 17, 2006

Of Clarification of My Previous Post, and Responses To Criticism

I think some clarification of my thought is in order, as a number of the objections to my post on Genesis 1 seem to be directed at a position I do not in fact hold. Addressing them rather haphazardly, I would point out the following:

In response to Katy's last comment, a careful re-reading of my original post should make it clear that I am not proposing some variant of Day-age Theory (which seems to have been her impression, judging from the reference to an "epochal" Monday--though the thing about a momentary Friday just confuses me). What I am suggesting is of a different order entirely. To explain it, I need to make a scientific statement, followed by a more liberal-artsy illustration:


  • Relativity tells us that there is no privileged (read "ultimate") description of duration or sequence of events in spacetime.
  • All observer-participants in the physical world experience their own unique timeframe. This works rather like Narnian time--each observer's timeframe runs faster or slower relative to everybody else's depending on what that observer happens to be doing (and what everybody else happens to be doing). Now most everyone here on earth operates under pretty much the same relativistic conditions, so the differences between all our gazillions of different timeframes are so close to nil that we can disregard them under all but the most extraordinary circumstances, and speak generally of what we might call "Earth Time." But somebody in a different part of the universe (or in a different universe, if such things exist--many physicists are open to the idea, though I must say I am not fond of it) might be operating under conditions different enough from our own to make his experience of time significantly out-of-synch with ours. If there were a lot of folks there with him, operating under largely the same conditions, we might generalize their collective experience under another appellation--say, "Narnia Time." These two general timeframes, "Earth Time" and "Narnia Time," would be overwhelmingly stable and consistent internally--two humans on Earth would agree that, say, a glass fell from the table before it shattered on the floor, and that the whole thing took 1.063 seconds. But say that there was a magical door in Narnia through which a dwarf and a centaur could observe this same terrestrial event, but from their own Narnian timeframe. Our dwarf and centaur would agree with each other on their version of what happened, but they might describe the glass shattering gradually over a hundred years, after which it rose, miraculously restored, from floor to table. Furthermore, they might describe this second action as occurring almost instantaneously, though it was hard to tell, as the pageant of glass and table was obscured by the simultaneous intrusion of the Second Punic War and the Cuban Missile Crisis. Both the Earthly and Narnian descriptions of what happened to the glass would be fully correct and literal, from their own perspective. Neither description would be the "real" description--what happened to the glass does in fact depend to a certain degree on whom you ask. What General Relativity does is provide the scientific framework for reconciling these two descriptions.

What I am suggesting about the Genesis 1 creation account is akin to the phenomenon described above, though not entirely. I am saying that Genesis 1 recounts the story of the creation from a third, similar, but essentially different, viewpoint--let us call it "Aslan Time." Alsan perceives the falling glass from his kingdom in the Utter East, a world beyond all worlds, whose timeframe is the archetype from which both the Earthly and Narnian timeframes are derived. Likewise, it is increasingly common for theologians to reject the formerly common view of God as wholly atemporal (for reasons I cannot elaborate here), but rather to see our experience of time as a reflection or shadow of a divine temporality arising as an aspect of the interaction of the Persons of the Godhead. Time in the created order derives its characteristics from both the interrelations of material things and the whole creation's relation to its Creator. Divine temporality arises solely from the Trinity, and is different than, if analogous to, our experience of time.

I think the creation days of Genesis 1 are shaped by this divine temporality, for several reasons--the fact that the account begins before there are structures in the universe from which what we know as time can arise, the fact that the days are framed by unique creation-acts of God (i.e. Each creation-act is not portrayed as occurring "on" or "in" a certain day--rather, each act is a day, framed by a covering/covenanting/evening and a harvest/appraisal/morning), and the fact that God appears to create time on day four. Genesis 1 is a very literal, historical acount of how God created the world. However, so is the Big Bang Theory, with its approximately fifteen-billion-year-old cosmos. The two descriptions simply assume different reference points (and, of course, they tell their stories to different ends).

In response to Katy's other question, I would say that of course our week is patterned after God's creation week. I don't see a problem.

Josh, hopefully this clarification clears up that I am in fact taking Genesis 1 literally (depending on what you mean by "literally"--the term itself is pretty vague). Darwinian Evolution doesn't enter the picture here, so I'm not sure why you bring it up. The current proposal of an approximately fifteen-billion-year-old universe is based on things like redshift measurements and proportions of various elements in the observable universe, not estimations of how long it would take for life to evolve (assumed to be only a tiny sliver of the total age of the cosmos). As for the creation of light and its division from darkness, and their constitution as Day and Night, I think the emphasis is on something more cosmic--Day as "heat" and "life," and Night as a "bending" or "turning back" from Day (check your Strong's). I think the original readers would have interpreted the passage this way. Of course, they would have seen it as meaning what we ordinarily mean by "day" and "night" too--again, I don't see a problem with that. Perhaps a problem arises if you equate the "Day" and "Night" with the "evening" and "morning," which does seem to do violence to the text, given the inappropriate order ("Night" follows "Day," while "evening" precedes "morning") and vastly divergent symbolism. Notice that there are creation "days," but not creation "nights." This is because "Night," as Genesis 1 uses it, is a constituted form of the pre-creation darkness and chaos--it is anti-creational, an "aversion" to the "Creation-Day."

I hope I have shown that I am not "just" trying to accommodate science with this interpretation. To misappropriate a recent Leithartean distinction, I am not trying to let my scientific "tail" wag my theological "dog." Rather, I want to incorporate the whole experience of God given to man, through natural and special revelation, into my hermeneutics. Obviously natural revelation must not trump special revelation, but neither should the two disagree (else God would be a liar). The New Physics, comprising Special and General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics, has turned out to reveal a universe that is overwhelmingly more Trinitarian in character than was imagined by Newtonian physics, and vastly more suggestive of a divinely-instituted order (an order than runs much deeper than we could have envisioned under older models). Thus I hardly see reason to shrink from its claims without careful consideration.

posted by Jeremy at 7:28 PM
5 marginalia

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Of Rethinking the Six Days of Genesis 1

I have heretofore always favored an understanding of the six days of creation in the first chapter of Genesis as literal twenty-four-hour periods. My primary reason for this has been that our faith is radically historical--its veracity stands or falls on various historical claims--and that the book of Genesis very plainly presents itself as an historical narrative. I still think this is a terribly important point. However, the changing face of my understanding of both biblical hermeneutics and physical science leads me to think that the literal twenty-four-hour periods interpretation is largely incoherent, and suggests to me an interpretation more consonant with what we now know of the nature of physical reality, as well as what the text actually says, while retaining the deeply historical character of the Genesis narrative. Now it may very well be that what I am presenting has already been suggested by dozens of others I am unaware of, perhaps more cogently, and may have been refuted by others still. If so, I would appreciate people pointing me in their direction.
The problem that I see with a "literal twenty-four-hour days" approach to the Genesis 1 creation account lies in its implicit assumption of Newtonian time, and its reification of what are actually descriptive, conditional time-units. One of the implications of General Relativity is that mass-energy is ontologically precedent to space-time. Time is not a container-like matrix within which "things" interact and "events" occur. Rather, time is a property of "things"--more specifically of ordered systems of "things"--and has no meaning or reality apart from the interactive systems from which it is derived. If we are to think of the days of creation as twenty-four-hour periods, we must reify time by assuming it exists apart from the systems that sustain it and give it meaning.
Let me illustrate how this works. At the beginning of the Genesis 1 creation account, we have God alone in a pre-creation that is "formless" (undifferentiated, unstructured, chaotic) and "void" (vacuous, empty). These are conditions under which what we experience as time does not exist. Even if you were going to say that scripture is speaking hyperbolically at this point, and that some fundamental physical order is already in place by verse 2 (which seems to go against the narrative flow), thus making time possible, you are still asserting that "days" as twenty-four-hour periods have some meaning or existence apart from the rotation of the earth about its axis in relation to the other celestial bodies (earth can't even "rotate" by itself, without other bodies to rotate in relation to)--all of which are as yet uncreated. In fact, if you go to the text without assuming that the creation days must be twenty-four-hour periods, it seems remarkably clear that God doesn't even create time as we experience it until day four, along with the heavenly bodies that give it meaning.
This view makes the Genesis creation account compatible in a couple of interesting ways with what is often seen by evangelical Christians as a big, scary scientific ogre: the Big Bang Theory (which, for the record, has absolutely nothing to do with the theory of evolution, and in fact proved itself against overwhelming resistance from materialist scientists who thought it was dreamed up to justify the doctrine of divine creatio ex nihilo). First, the Big Bang Theory predicts what has sometimes been seen as an absurdity in the Genesis account: the existence of light before the creation of the various luminaries which, in our present time, are its sources. The Big Bang Theory requires that light and heat exist (in great plenitude) in the universe from the very beginning, before even the simplest elements are formed. Secondly, the arising of time out of the formation of material systems, primarily stellar bodies, as the Big Bang Theory explains, seems remarkably like what is described in Genesis 1:14-19.
But what then is meant by the "days" of Genesis 1? I answer with another question: What is meant by the phrase "day of the Lord?" Certainly not a twenty-four-hour period. Rather, the "day of the Lord" is a complete, historical act of God. I think the language of Genesis 1 suggests a similar treatment of the creation days: each "day" is a single constitutive, decretive act of the Creator-God. The framing of each "day" around a creation-act, along with the "evening and morning" trope (in Hebrew, the word for"evening" means "covering," "weaving," and "surety of covenant"; while the word for "morning" means "breaking-forth," "harvest," and "appraisal"), suggest it strongly. The "days" of Genesis 1 are days of "divine time" (see the article from two posts ago)--manifestations of the inner life and relationality of the Godhead, of his will and purpose. Genesis 1 is, after all, a theocentric account of the creation, culminating in God's rest after the creation of mankind. In Genesis 2, the creation account begins over again, from an anthropocentric viewpoint, which more or less holds for the rest of scripture (this distinction nullifies fears that anything but a literal-twenty-four-hour-days interpretation of Genesis 1 casts doubt on all subsequent biblical history).
Obviously this is not an exhaustive look at the implications of rethinking the Genesis 1 timescale, and there are undoubtedly many things I have overlooked. Hopefully, you in blogland can help point them out to me. Nevertheless, the insufficiency of a literalistic view of the Genesis 1 creation days, in the face of our present-day, relativistic understanding of time, as well as less wooden and fundamentalist hermeneutics, seems to me increasingly plain.

posted by Jeremy at 4:55 PM
4 marginalia


Ex Libro
Of Self-indulgent Personality Tests
Of Strange Happenings in Moscow
Of a Sudden, Strange Thought
Of Denying Natural Revelation
Of a Non-Evolutionist Old-Earth Calvinist
Of Jesus the True Serpent
Of Books Redux
Of Books
Of Jordan on Genesis
Of the Trouble With Teilhard

Index
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
April 2005
October 2005
February 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006

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