Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Joseph Blenkinsopp on Creation Ex Materia in Genesis 1



. . . it has been known at least from the Middle Ages—for example, in the commentary of the eleventh-century Jewish scholar Rashi—that from the linguistic and exegetical point of view this reading of Gen. 1:1–2 is not the preferred option in strictly exegetical terms. This conclusion is acknowledged in several major modern translations (nrsv, jps, nab, neb, but not reb). Since the Hebrew text was consonantal, vowels could be added to justify reading the first sentence as a main clause, as in the traditional reading, or the first verse could be parsed as a subordinate temporal clause, with the main clause beginning either with v. 2 (as in nrsv and nab) or in v. 3 (as in jps). A further clarification of a more technical nature should be added. The first word, běrēʾšît, comprises a noun (rēʾšît, ‘beginning’) with a prepositional prefix, therefore (‘in the beginning’), which normally forms part of a genitival phrase (‘in the beginning of something’) as in all other occurrences in the Hebrew Bible, for the most part dealing with the beginning of a reign (Jer. 26:1; 27:1; 28:1; 49:34). The reading most consistent with classical Hebrew usage would therefore, translating literally, run as follows: ‘In the beginning of God’s creating the sky and the earth’, with the principal clause to follow.

Decisions about translation must also take account of literary context, and from this perspective it is clear that the alternative proposed is to be preferred. Genesis 1 belongs to the genre of cosmogony, narratives about world origins, and ancient cosmogonic myths in that culture area begin by describing the way it was at the time of the first creation, only then proceeding to the creation itself. In the canonical Babylonian creation myth Enuma Elish, for example, the list of what was or was not there at the beginning, or what had or had not been done, occupies the first eight lines of the first tablet. Only then are the first gods created (Heidel 1951: 18). The same pattern is adopted at the beginning of the garden of Eden story. A subordinate clause lists three things absent at the beginning—vegetation, rain and agricultural workers—and one thing present—a mysterious source of water coming up from the ground (Gen. 2:4b–6). It should not surprise us that the priest–author retains this narrative feature, if in a more subdued and tacit form, adapting the genre to his own theological agenda.

It is in any case a mistake to coerce an ancient text to conform to what is essentially a philosophical and theological theory. As we read on, we see that the author is thinking of creation as the production out of chaos of an ordered, liveable environment for the human race. A creation account is necessarily narrative, and it is characteristic of narrative that one event follows another. Creation follows chaos, but chaos is logically rather than chronologically prior to order. We shall see how the description of the great deluge as an event of un-creation reveals that chaos is a recurring possibility; it is inseparably constituent of physical reality. In this respect, therefore, Genesis 1 follows the same pattern as the Mesopotamian and Greek myths of origin. Unlike Enuma Elish and creation myths originating in Canaan, however, the biblical version does not represent creation as the sequel to a victory of the Creator Deity over the forces of chaos, not explicitly at any rate, but the holding in check of life-threatening forces—chaos, darkness, the storm wind. If we wish, we may read this as the first victory in a war which is destined to be prolonged as long as humanity lasts. (Joseph Blenkinsopp, Creation, Un-Creation, Re-Creation: A Discursive Commentary on Genesis 1-11 [London: T&T Clark, 2011], 30-31)

Further Reading

Blake T. Ostler, Out of Nothing: A History of Creation ex Nihilo in Early Christian Thought