“Rescuing Inerrancy” by Hugh Ross–A Book Analysis Series (Part 3: Genre and a Solid Dome?)

Here in Part 3 of my analysis of Hugh Ross’ book, Rescuing Inerrancy, we will look at Chapters 11-13.

Starting in Chapter 11, Ross finally starts to address some of the issues directly tied to Genesis 1-11. Up until Chapter 11, it has all been a more generalized discussion of terms like “dual revelation,” “inerrancy,” and “concordism,” that is rather light on specifics as to what these terms actually mean. At bottom, the discussion in chapters 1-10 boils down to this: (A) there are “two books” of revelation—Scripture and nature; (B) therefore, they must compliment and “concord” with one another, and (C) that means Genesis 1-11 is scientific and historical—if it isn’t, then God’s trustworthiness and the reliability of Scripture comes into question. As I said, I find that argument to be wholly unconvincing for a variety of reasons.

For now, though, let’s tackle the specifics Ross brings up in the next few chapters.

Chapter 11: The Great Genre Debate
When it comes to understanding Genesis 1-11, the fundamental issue that needs to be addressed is that of genre—what is the genre of Genesis 1-11? Ross says at the beginning of the chapter that ever since “the birth of the church until near the end of the twentieth century, theologically conservative Christian theologians held that the biblical creation texts should be understood as historical narratives, essentially literal except where textual clues indicate otherwise” (103).

There are a number of things problematic in that assertion. First for all, terms like “conservative” and “liberal” really came into being as a result of the rise of “liberal theology” in the 19^th century and the inevitable “conservative” response in the 20^th century. Although those terms have served as generally accurate descriptions of the theological debates since the 19^th century, they really don’t work when it comes to describing theologians and Church leaders from before that time. Who has ever described the likes of Peter, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Jerome, Basil the Great, Thomas Aquinas, etc. as “conservative” or “liberal”? Secondly, it simply is not true that the creation accounts in Genesis 1-3 have always been interpreted as historical narratives. Origen, for example, mocked those who took those chapters as literal history.

Ross then proceeds to provide quotes from modern Christian scholars like Heiser, Lane Craig, Enns, Sparks, McKnight, Walton, and Tremper Longman III to show that they all argue that the creation narratives should not be understood as literal history. Instead, they are clearly the product of the Ancient Near Eastern culture and thus mirror ANE texts in terms of genre. Obviously, Ross disagrees. In particular, Ross rejects characterizing these chapters as ANE “myth” because “a myth is not expected to be ‘true’” (106). So, when scholars like Enns refers to Genesis 1-11 as “myth” with no connection to actual history, Ross cries foul. He also takes issues with Lane Craig’s attempt to characterize Genesis 1-11 as “mytho-history,” as do I. Ross’ objection centers on that he just doesn’t like the term “myth,” because (for him) it is saying that something in the Bible “isn’t true.”

My objection to Lane Craig’s “mytho-history” is that, in terms of genre, it is oxymoronic. “Myth,” by definition is unhistorical, whereas “history” is (you guessed it) historical. So to say “mytho-history” is like saying “unhistorical history.”

Ross then argues that Genesis 1-11 can’t be “myth” because it is teaching something directly contrary to the ANE pagan worldview (one good God vs. not many immoral gods; humans are made in God’s image vs. humans are disgusting slaves of the gods).

Let’s be clear, it is absolutely true that Genesis 1-11 is teaching things that directly undermine the ANE pagan worldview. But that is not a genre-related question. Yes, as a Christian, I believe Genesis 1, for example, is teaching the truth about the one true God, about the inherent worth of human beings, and about the goodness of creation—but that doesn’t mean Genesis 1 has to be a historical account. It would be like saying that since the parable of the Prodigal Son teaches (among other things) about the love God has for those who have gone astray and who repent, that therefore that must be a historically true story. No, it doesn’t—it’s a parable, and that’s an entirely legitimate (and non-historical) literary genre. The same applies to Genesis 1-11.

After that, Ross makes an argument as to why Genesis 1-11 should be understood as historical narrative, as opposed to myth.

• It is narrative, just like Genesis 12-50. Since it’s all narrative, it must be all historical.
• Genesis 1-11 has genealogies that include names and phrases like “these are the generations of.”
• Genesis 1 is laid out in “days” and indicates a start and end time within Earth’s history.
• The phrases “and it was so” and “it was good” indicate that “something of great significance had been accomplished in history.

Ross ends his argument by saying, “It seems the Genesis 1 author goes overboard to make it clear he is writing a historical, chronologically ordered narrative” (109). And then, “To deny the historicity of these chapters leads to questioning the reliability of the rest of Scripture” (110). For Ross, Genesis 1-11 isn’t poetry or “fantastic myth.” It is narrative, and that means it is historical, just like Joshua, Judges, Ruth, I and II Samuel, I and II Kings, and I and II Chronicles. The only reason certain scholars reject the historicity of Genesis 1-11 and not these other books is because they don’t present any conflict with evolution—Genesis 1-11 does.

Although it is true that Genesis 1-11 is narrative (like Genesis 12-50), merely being narrative does not automatically entail a piece of writing is historical. Novels are narrative—they’re not historical. In any case, I would argue any honest comparison between Genesis 1-11 and Genesis 12-50 will convince you that there is a huge difference. As just one example, as soon as you get to Abraham in Genesis 12, there are clear and provable references to actual places and the narrative of that one solitary person goes on for thirteen chapters. By contrast, there are very little actual places in Genesis 1-11 that can be nailed down with any certainty, and hundreds of years are flown over in a verse. That alone should tell us that the writing has radically changed once we get to Genesis 12.

In addition, I had to cringe a little to see Ross giving a very “Ken Ham-like” claim that if you don’t accept Genesis 1 as historical, then the reliability of the rest of the Bible comes into question. As for the reason why some reject the historicity of Genesis 1-11, I’ll admit that some Christian scholars refer to evolution as the reason. Let me be clear, I think that is completely wrong. I came to my conclusion that Genesis 1-11 belongs to the genre of ANE myth over a full decade before I ever even looked into the creation-evolution debate. My conclusion about Genesis 1-11 had absolutely nothing to do with evolution. It had everything to do with proper genre recognition. I discuss this more in this post. And let’s be clear, saying Genesis 1-11 is a “myth” is not saying it isn’t true, any more than saying the Parable of the Prodigal Son is a parable isn’t true because it isn’t historical.

Proper genre recognition of Genesis 1-11 should have nothing to do with evolution. If any scholar cites evolution as a reason for calling Genesis 1-11 ANE myth, that scholar is mistaken.

Chapters 12-13: Debunking the Dome Myth/Ancient Near Eastern Science
I found Chapter 12 to be rather interesting because Ross’ argument got me to think about something I may not have understood this entire time, ever since I first touched upon the topic of the ANE three-tiered conception of the universe back during my second master’s degree. To the point, Ross questions scholars like Walton, Enns, Heiser and company who argue that ancient Israel shared the same ANE cosmology as its neighbors. This can be illustrated in the image on your right. In particular (as is the focus of this chapter) the scholarly claim is that in ANE cosmology, it was believed there was a solid dome (raqia) that was fixed over a flat earth.

Ross questions that claim and says, “Just as it would be a mistake for researchers working centuries from now to interpret J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings as a depiction of past centuries’ Western beliefs about geography and cosmology, it would likewise be an error to interpret Mesopotamian and Egyptian astrology and myths written for political purposes as their understanding of the solar system and starry realm” (115). He then spends the rest of Chapters 12-13 giving examples from the Church Fathers, medieval scholars, the Old Testament itself, as well as other material from the ANE that conclusively show that these people in the past knew how to do real science, and knew about things like astronomy, a spherical earth, atmosphere, etc., and thus did not believe there was a literal solid dome over the earth or that the earth was a flat disk.

There is no need to go into specifics on these points. All I’ll say on that is that Ross makes a good argument. In fact, his analogy to the Lord of the Rings caused a lightbulb to go off in my head. Now, like I said, ever since my second master’s degree, I have been saying that Israel shared the same ANE understanding of the universe as its neighbors (again, see the image on the right). Whenever I would read scholars like Walton, Enns, and Heiser and they touched upon this topic, I would agree—that was how ancient Israel conceived the universe; that was its cosmology.

That being said, whenever I discussed that ANE conception of the universe, I never thought that they literally and “scientifically” viewed the universe that way. I thought it was quite obviously that that ANE cosmological understanding of the universe was a literary and mythical conception…not a literal and scientific one. In a sense, I viewed it in the same way one might read a book or watch a movie where someone “flies up to heaven” or “goes down to hell.” Obviously, heaven is not literally “up there” above the clouds and hell is not literally “down there” somewhere underneath the crust of the earth. We may use these creative ways of talking about and depicting heaven and hell in creative, literary, artistic works, but when we see them in such works, we know they aren’t trying to make literal, scientific claims.

So when it came to the ANE cosmological understanding depicted in places like Genesis 1-11, Jonah, Job, or the Psalms, I always thought, “Yes, that is their conception of the universe, but it obviously is a literary, mythological conception, and it would be a mistake if we thought that conception was their scientific conception which we, in all our modern age brilliance, now know to be mistaken.

And now I find myself thinking, “When scholars like Walton, Enns, Heiser and company make those claims about ancient Israel and ANE cosmology, are they claiming that that was how Israel literally and “scientifically” viewed the universe, or are they saying it in the same way I’ve always thought—that such a view is a literary and mythological view?” I always assumed it was the latter, but perhaps I was wrong? I’ll say this—if any biblical scholar is claiming that such an ANE cosmological world view was their scientific understanding of the universe, that scholar is wrong and (as some people tend to do) is misinterpreting a literary/mythological text as a scientific one and is making a fundamental mistake in genre recognition.

As for Ross’ analogy with the Lord of the Rings, he is more correct than he realizes. Yes, it would be a mistake to interpret LOTR as if it represented the past geographical and cosmological views of early Western culture—because it is a work of fiction, not history or science, even though in that work of fiction, there is “history” within that fictional world. In the same way, it would be a mistake to interpret the ANE cosmological view of the universe (as seen in ANE cultures and throughout the Old Testament, in passages like Genesis 1-11, Jonah, Job, and the Psalms) as if they were making scientific claims—because those specific texts are either mythological texts (Genesis 1-11), parabolic stories (Jonah), “Wisdom literature” texts (Job), or poetic texts (Psalms), not historical or scientific texts.

Ross is 100% correct—we shouldn’t interpret ANE cosmological texts as if they were trying to do history or science. What he seems to not realize is that since there are ANE cosmological texts in the Bible, the same rule should hold true, and we shouldn’t say, “Oh, if it’s in the Bible, then they are also historical and scientific, and we must make them ‘concord.’”