Few portions of Scripture have been as hotly debated as the creation story of Genesis 1–2. Which is a shame, really, because the opening words of the Bible are beautiful.1
With language resembling a poem or a song, Genesis says God created the entire universe—simply by speaking. Over six days, God said, “Let there be.” And whatever he said, was. Light and darkness. Earth, sea, and sky. Grass, trees, and plants of all kinds (oh my). The sun and moon. (And the stars too.) Land animals, birds, fish, and insects. Finally, the first human beings, male and female, made in his image. Made not just with his words, but fashioned with his hands. All before he rested from his work.
And as he spoke and saw what he made, God said it was good. Good because it had a purpose, to put his beauty and wonder and power on display (Romans 1:20). Good because it pleased him. And good because he is good—and whatever he does is good (Exodus 34:6).
Of origins and arguments
Basically, the world is beautiful. And the story of how it came to be is equally so. But this beauty gets lost in how we approach the creation narrative. At least, in the way many western Evangelical Christians do. When we read this passage, we tend to focus on very specific questions:
- Are these chapters actual history or are they akin to the creation myths of the ancient Babylonians (the Enuma Elish), Mesopotamians (the Atrahasis Epic), or Egyptians (the Egyptian Creation Myth)?
- Does “day” mean “day” as we understand it (a 24-hour period of time), or is it figurative language?
- And—for some reason—did Adam and Eve have belly buttons? (Which seems like a very personal question if you ask me.)
Basically, we approach the creation account from an apologetics standpoint. We may make arguments against competing perspectives and ideologies, particularly those that reject the idea of a creator God altogether. Perhaps we will focus on fossil records, and offer alternative explanations of current scientific perspectives. Or we will talk about dinosaurs and make replica arks and fund institutes that explore the evidence that this world was not a mistake.
All of this puts us on the defensive. It is an attempt to counter the narrative that there is a conflict between faith and reason, or believing science and Scripture.
Reject red herrings around the creation story
There are reasonable discussions to be had about the relationship between science and Scripture. For those of us who grew up with the narrative that reasonable people don’t believe in creation stories, we need to have those conversations.
But the debate, as it is commonly framed, is also a red herring. After all, there is no genuine conflict between the two. Untold hundreds of scientists throughout the centuries were (and are) committed Christians. Isaac Newton, Blaise Pascal, and George Washington Carver, are just a few worth mentioning. They recognized what we need to as well: rather than seeing faith as a barrier to scientific inquiry, it is fuel for it.
That’s why I don’t buy the common framing. The faith vs reason, or science vs Scripture, dichotomy is a distraction from a much more significant issue, one central to the narrative of Scripture.
The Creator and his creation
Genesis 1:1 introduces us to God. Already present; already existing. Outside of all that is. And by introducing God as the preexistent Creator of everything, the Bible reveals a profound truth: all of creation belongs to him. It is his.
As the creator of everything, God has the right to determine how it all works. To say what is right and what is wrong. To say what is good, beautiful, and true—and what is not. And that authority isn’t limited to God generically but to all members of the Trinity: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—particularly Jesus.
John’s gospel explicitly references Genesis 1 with its opening line, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God” (John 1:1). The Word, whom John identifies with Jesus, was there at the beginning. And God created all things with him and through him (John 1:3, 14, 17). He is the sustainer of all things, the one who holds all things together (Colossians 1:17; Hebrews 1:3).
And because Jesus is the creator and sustainer of all things, he is in authority over everything.
The scandal of the creation story
This is the real scandal of the creation story. As its maker, God is in authority over all things. That includes us. And that is exactly why people are desperate to debunk it. Or, at least, try to put those who believe it on the defensive.
People don’t object to the creation narrative because it’s ludicrous or intellectually dishonest. They object because, if it’s true, it means we are not autonomous beings. If we came into the world as the result of the equation of time plus matter plus chance successfully adding up again and again and again, then we are beholden to no one. We don’t have to worship, and more pointedly obey, God, because that God isn’t real.
But if the creation narrative is true—and the rest of the Bible’s narrative for that matter—it’s a whole different story.2 It means God is not a distant deity content to let us run amok, doing whatever pleases us. He has a plan for his creation, a purpose for it.
He is so personally invested in his creation that when we tried to deviate from his plan—to do our own thing—he revealed himself to the world by entering into it as the man Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus put his authority over all creation on display with signs and wonders, forgiving sins, refuting human tradition, and even overcoming death itself. And to him, as Lord over all creation, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess his authority, to the glory of God the Father (Philippians 2:10-11).
Behold the beauty of the story
That is the point of the creation story; that is the point of the entire Bible: that all authority belongs to Jesus. It is beautiful. And it is also what is so scandalous about it. But it is what we need to remember whenever we read Genesis 1-2. The debate isn’t over faith and reason, or science and Scripture. It is about authority. We can try to redefine it any way we like, but in the end, we have to face reality: the promises of self-autonomy will always let us down. We were meant to live under the authority of Jesus, and our hearts will remain unfulfilled until we finally yield to him.
