“Genesis says that God created the universe and everything in it in six twenty-four-hour periods. According to the Reformation hermeneutic, the first option is to follow the plain sense of the text. One must do a great deal of hermeneutical gymnastics to escape the plain meaning of Genesis 1-2” – R. C . Sproul
Last week the Aquila Report published a piece by G. I. Williamson in defense of literal six-day, young-earth creationism. In his piece, he submits as evidence for this view the fact that the vast majority of laymen hold to it, which, when coupled with the historic understanding of the perspicuity of Scripture, argues for taking more seriously the literal, six-day view in our own Reformed circles (“Is the Bible Really Perspicacious?”).
A few days later, William B. Evans (whom I count a friend, and whose writings and postings I always read with great appreciation, especially than his recent articles on sanctification posted on this site), responded to Williamson with a piece entitled “Perspicuity, Exegetical Populism, and Tolerance: A Reply to G. I. Williamson”.
Evans, who does not hold to the literal young-earth view, finds Williamson’s view “disturbing” both in its “substance and implications.” Evans raises significant objections to the implications Williamson seems to draw in his piece: namely, that the Reformed community should clamp down on the practice of tolerating alternative views of Genesis 1-2 within its ranks. I share Evans concerns regarding these implications.
However, I think the substance of Williamson’s appeal to the perspicuity of Scripture and the layman’s plain reading of Genesis 1-2 merits a closer look than Evans would have us take.
The intent of this piece is to offer a rebuttal of Evans’ main challenges to Williamson. While Evans is not taking issue with a literal, young-earth interpretation of Genesis as such (he is, rather, taking on Williamson’s particular approach for advocating that view, and the implications of Williamson’s approach), the challenges Evans puts forth are nonetheless exactly those which are frequently raised against the literal, young-earth interpretation of Genesis 1-2. So the implications of this piece may extend, for some readers (particularly advocates of a literal-young earth view) well beyond Williamson’s observations and Evans’ critique of Williamson’s approach to the very way we debate about the literal, young-earth view itself.
Degrees of Prominence Should Not Be Equated with Degrees of Perspicuity
First, Evans reminds us (correctly!) that the Protestant understanding of the perspicuity of Scripture “does not mean that all portions of Scripture are equally understandable or accessible to all (see WCF I.7).” Therefore, perspicuity is not so much a matter of the clarity of this or that passage, but rather concerns clarity of the central storyline of Scripture which is “abundantly clear to those with eyes to see and ears to hear.” Nonetheless, even in a specific passage like Genesis 1, Evans says there is much that is perspicacious! – “… the fact that God is the creator of all that exists, that that creation is good, that it is orderly, and that human beings created in the image and likeness of God are to in some sense mirror God’s creative activity in their own patterns of labor.”
He then adds (again, correctly!) that “it is these latter ‘truths of creation’ that figure much more prominently in the rest of Scripture than the mechanism of creation as it is depicted (whether literally or figuratively) in Genesis 1” (emphasis mine). The implication seems to be that perspicuity only extends to the more prominent features of the text.
However, I find this to be an insufficient objection to Williamson’s appeal to perspicuity in favor of a literal, young-earth view. To begin with, the recognition that ‘the mechanism of creation’ lies more in the background of Genesis 1-2 and of the storyline of the Bible in no way entails that it is not perspicacious. It does not follow from the fact that two things are not equally prominent that they are therefore not equally clear. My wife wants me to be faithful to her until death do us part; she also wants me to put my socks in the hamper. And while I can tell you that these two things are not equally prominent in our marriage, I can assure you they are equally clear!
In fact, the curious thing about Genesis 1 is that while the mechanism of creation is not the main issue, it does seem the inspired author deliberately pursues clarity on the matter: hence the six-fold coupling of “day” with “and there was evening and there was morning”, as if just to… make it clear.
The reason the average layman doesn’t struggle to arrive at a literal, young-earth view of Genesis 1-2 is precisely because, in terms of perspicuity, Genesis 1-2 is not the book of Ezekiel, as some alternative theories would have it be. It is, in and of itself, fairly straightforward. Moreover, every boy and girl from the days of Moses onward who has memorized the Ten Commandments (God’s ‘ten words’, so prominent in the storyline!) has learned that we rest one day in each seven-day week not because of the general truths of Genesis 1-2 that Evans draws forth, but because “in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day” (Exodus 20:11).
Where I would disagree with Williamson (and thus I share Evans’ concern) concerns his application of perspicuity in this case, particularly where he seems to imply that the view of days of creation should fall under the “those things which are necessary to be known, believed, and observed for salvation” clause of the Westminster Confession of Faith. It may be that he did not intend this, but his article can certainly be read that way.
I am not concerned that my brothers and sisters who do not hold to a literal, young-earth view have rejected those teachings that disclose the heart of salvation in Christ. Rather, the reason one’s view of the days of creation is important, to my mind, follows from its bearing on the structural integrity of one’s hermeneutic. If Genesis 1-2 is not teaching a literal, young-earth view, then it is not only the layman reading the Bible in plain English who has a problem, it is also the pastor and/or scholar who would insist that the account of the Exodus and parting of the Red Sea are presented as actual historical events in the text. The literary and grammatical features of the text of Genesis 1-2 are classic examples of Hebrew historical narrative. And thus, reading Genesis 1-2 according to alternative views leaves one on very shaky ground when trying to defend the historicity of other miraculous events recorded in the Torah.
Williamson Presents Something More Notable Than Mere ‘Exegetical Populism’
Second, Evans’ reply to Williamson decries what he identifies as and chooses to call “exegetical populism” at work in Williamson’s argument. Evans, a scholar in the area of American historical theology, is acutely aware of the anti-intellectualist tendencies in American thought and their baneful consequences, and thus does not (again, correctly!) want to see Jacksonian politics at play in genuine theological debate. And so Evans dismisses Williamson’s appeal to the consensus interpretation of the salt-of-the-earth Bible reader with this protest: “Why this privileging of the hermeneutic of the unlearned? When did naïveté become a prerequisite for proper exegesis?”
Evans charge seems to suggest that Williamson would simply privilege the common man over the scholar. But Williamson sees something truly notable in this clear disparity between what the layman and the scholar claim to see in the creation account. Two intriguing sociological facts strike him, and he believes should strike us: namely, that the literal, young-earth reading of Genesis 1-2 has been embraced not by a mere majority but by an overwhelming majority of laymen; and that their interpretation has proven surprisingly resilient to the alternative interpretations offered by scholars.
He writes: “Yet I, as a pastor now for sixty years, have yet to meet one of God’s simple people who can say they even understand these views, let alone believe them. No, it has been my experience that still to this day the vast majority of Bible-believing people remain convinced that (a) God has spoken to them clearly in the first two chapters of the Bible, and that (b) what he has said is that he created the universe in six days, each of which had one evening and one morning.”
All things considered, these are curious pieces of evidence indeed, and ones that, while by no means decisive in the argument, should not be dismissed as irrelevant either.
Moreover, there are certain cases where the scholar can benefit from the plain reading of the unlearned. Allow me to give a real-life illustration.
A senior pastor in the PCA (and a close friend of my family’s) studied philosophy in college, and from there, inspired by Francis Schaeffer, went on to begin graduate work in apologetics. At this time, he was interning at a mainline church in Tennessee, where the more liberal views of that church toward women’s ordination were reflective of his views of the matter. The literature and arguments for women’s ordination were familiar to him.
As an intern, he was working with the youth ministry, and on one particular Sunday morning, a middle school girl came up to him and said, “Guess what! I’ve been reading the Bible!” He responded enthusiastically, because he’d been encouraging this. She then announced she had a question, which he eagerly welcomed. “Well,” she said, “I was reading 1 Timothy, and when I read this passage (she then opened her Bible and pointed to 1 Tim. 2:12-15), I wanted to know why we don’t follow this at our church.”
My friend said the simplicity of her words cut through all his arguments, all his background reading, all his airs of sophistication, and a single thought hit him like a ton of bricks: “If it’s that clear to a middle school girl…”
He changed his position to bring it in line with the plain reading of the text, and it was “the hermeneutic of the unlearned” that convinced him that the hermeneutic he had learned was really a sophisticated attempt to escape the plain reading of the text (undoubtedly because it conflicted with the culture).
Williamson seems clearly to suppose that scholars have their own particular cultural pressures in the academy that may account for the notable disparity between their interpretations of Genesis 1-2 and those of the lay consensus. This is not an unreasonable supposition, nor should it be discounted in the debate about what these first chapters of the Scriptures are indeed communicating to God’s people. To characterize Williamson’s observation and appeal as mere “exegetical populism” is to overlook the uniqueness of the evidence he presents.
Tolerance Toward Eschatology Does Not Biblically Entail Tolerance Toward Protology
The question of whether we should show the degree of forbearance with regard to protology that we show with regard to eschatology is one that Evans intends to submit to Reformed historical theologians. And lodged there, it deserves full attention – Evans is right to ask whether we want to exclude some of the more notable Reformed theologians of recent memory from the ranks of the ‘true Reformed tradition’ because they did not hold to a literal, young-earth view of creation.
But positing a protology-eschatology parallel in this particular context inevitably raises a deeper question – does that parallel, in this context, have biblical support? I’m not questioning whether there exists a theological symmetry between our doctrine of creation and our doctrine of eschatology. Undoubtedly there does, and one could spend a lifetime exploring it. Rather, I am asking whether there is a biblical warrant for suggesting that the uncertainty we acknowledge about how things end should carry over into our understanding of how things began.
One of the reasons we admit degrees of ignorance about eschatology is because Scripture encourages us to do so: “But concerning the day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only… Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming” (Matthew 24:36, 42). (That is why when Harold Camping or any other ‘prophecy expert’ rises to announce the exact details of ‘the end’, we can confidently say he is speaking from his own mind, and not from the Lord.) Moreover, the sheer range of texts that factor into a biblical doctrine of eschatology, together with their diversity of genres, make it easy to understand why there are diverging views of end-times.
The biblical teaching on creation, by comparison, is strikingly simple – and what is more, there are no biblical commands encouraging us to refrain from asking about “the day or hour” of the beginning, such we find concerning the end. Moreover, the pattern of Scripture is to speak more confidently concerning the details of things past than things future. Whereas God has consistently encouraged his people to wait patiently without all the details concerning things ahead of them (1 Peter 1:10-12), he has also consistently encouraged them to look carefully into the details concerning things that have taken place (Psalm 111:2-4, Luke 1:1-4).
This is not to say that Genesis 1-2 then suffices to tell us everything we need to know about the origins of life. We are still compelled to investigate carefully everything that science can reveal. But it is to say that if we are going to advocate tolerance of views concerning creation within the Reformed tradition, such tolerance should find its basis in something other than our approach to eschatology. When the Bible speaks of matters of history, even events quite distant from our present experience, it does not shy away from speaking of them with precision. The meticulous genealogies of the Scriptures, giving us even the exact lifespan of Adam (930 years), would support this.
Evans concludes his piece with a wise warning from Herman Bavinck, but it is notable to read the sentence that Bavinck penned just before it, which pertains to the simplicity with which the Bible speaks of the creation as a matter of historical record:
“But when Scripture, from its own perspective precisely as the book of religion, comes into contact with other sciences and also sheds its light on them, it does not at all at once cease to be the Word of God but remains that Word. Even when it speaks about the genesis of heaven and earth, it does not present saga or myth or poetic fantasy but offers, in accordance with its own clear intent, history, the history that deserves credence and trust. And for that reason Christian theology, with only a few exceptions, continued to hold onto the literal historical view of the creation story.”[1]
Conclusion
Many friends of mine whom I count dear brothers in Christ, valuable co-laborers for the Gospel, and potent champions for the Reformed tradition do not hold to a literal, young-earth view. I consider Dr. Evans such a friend. I have great respect for these men and take their views with utmost seriousness (and I sincerely hope that has come through in this piece). But I also think its fair to raise the question, as Williamson does in his piece, whether their views on Genesis 1-2 may be more influenced by the culture (particularly the academic culture) than by a plain reading of the text, and I am thankful to G. I. Williamson for offering his thoughts and observations in favor of the layman’s plain reading of the text. It is my opinion that his observations, though not decisive, do merit attention in this debate, even if some of the implications he wishes to draw may go further than Dr. Evans or I am comfortable with.
Of particular note in this debate concerning the plain reading of Scripture in the Reformed tradition, and its bearing on Genesis 1-2, is R. C. Sproul’s reason for recently changing his views on the days of creation. I close with his words published in 2006 in the first volume of his Truths We Confess:
“For most of my teaching career, I considered the framework hypothesis to be a possibility. But I have now changed my mind. I now hold to a literal six-day creation… Genesis says that God created the universe and everything in it in six twenty-four-hour periods. According to the Reformation hermeneutic, the first option is to follow the plain sense of the text. One must do a great deal of hermeneutical gymnastics to escape the plain meaning of Genesis 1-2”.[2]
Rev. Miller is the Senior Pastor of the Greenville Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. He holds a B.A. from Wake Forest University, an MDiv from RTS-Charlotte (2004), and is currently pursuing a ThM at Erskine Theological Seminary.
[1] Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, vol. 2, trans. John Vriend (Baker, 2004), 495.
[2] R. C. Sproul, Truths We Confess: A Layman’s Guide to the Westminster Confession of Faith, vol. 1 (P&R, 2006), 127-128.
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