Background for Genesis Essay - 1

In the preceding blog posting in this series, the author concluded with the statement that “the first (of the following) essays will start with the first part of the book of Genesis.”  Now, however, it seems best to defer that assignment until after two preliminary essays on the philosophy and history of the Judeo-Christian religion have been presented.  Developing philosophical and historical clarity now is expected to lead to quicker comprehension of the Genesis text once it is started.  Today’s essay will start with some philosophical background on the topics of belief, faith, trust, states of affairs, facts, unrealized possibilities, truth, and knowledge.  Then, we will state some Biblical background information.

Philosophical Background: Prior to any philosophical or theological reflection, it might seem that a comprehensive presentation of God’s truth could be accomplished with a Bible that “started at the beginning” and said everything that was worth knowing (in the sense of “capturing in writing”) about the relationship between God and man.  Among presuppositions of this exposition would be the ideas that belief is another word for faith; that the Hebrew Bible presents faith as trust in God; and that the Christian Bible identifies faith as trust in Christ, who is the second person of the Holy Trinity.  Here, “trust” includes experiential or emotional factors, if any, that cannot be captured in writing.

However, the terms “belief” and “faith” have not only a branch of meaning relating to the term “trust,” but also a branch of meaning relating to the terms “truth” and “knowledge.”  These latter two terms are in turn related to a real (or actual) world, which is assumed to exist and to be intelligible.  This real world is thought to consist of states of affairs (SOA’s) that “obtain” and that are usually known as “facts,” whereas SOA’s that “do not obtain” are merely unrealized possibilities.  SOA’s are also known as “situations” that may or may not occur.

An SOA is a way that the real world must be in order for some corresponding (or underlying) proposition about the real world to be true in a logical world.  In other words, an SOA is a truth-maker; whereas a proposition is a truth-bearer.  SOA’s either obtain or fail to obtain; whereas propositions are either true or false.  For example, if historical research and judgment lead one to believe that the SOA “Caligula is cruel” obtains; then, as a matter of logic, the proposition “Caligula is cruel” is true.  Likewise, if the relevant judgments lead one to believe that the SOA “Caligula is cruel” does not obtain; then, logically, the proposition “Caligula is cruel” is false.  The distinction between truth-maker and truth-bearer is based on the difference between empirical research and judgment, on the one hand; and the logical world of premises and deductions, on the other.

We speak of a belief as one particular type of introspective judgment or attitude toward a proposition, which in turn is something that can be true or false in logic.  If the attitude is one of acceptance, then we are said to have judged (fallibly) that the SOA under consideration obtains in the real world; thereby forcing the corresponding proposition to be true in the logical world.  If the attitude is one of rejection, then we are said to have judged (fallibly) that the SOA under consideration does not obtain in the real world; thereby forcing the corresponding proposition to be false in the logical world.

One notes in passing that there is a panoply of possible attitudes that one might take towards a proposition, including, but not limited to, expecting, hoping, or fearing; intending, desiring, or wishing; believing, knowing, or judging; and accepting, rejecting, or doubting.  In this essay we are focusing on believing and knowing.  Attitudinal analysis presupposes that we are capable of (fallible) introspection and judgment; that we can recognize real and logical worlds; that these worlds are intelligible; and that we can estimate subjectively (or in some cases, statistically) how much confidence or probability to attach to any particular belief - - from certitude to barely above 50%.

Finally, knowledge is sometimes said to be justified true belief, i.e., belief that is true and that is backed up (i.e., justified) by a “story” of why the belief must be true.  Ever since the Platonic dialog, Theaetetus, however, this approach has been shown to be plagued by circularity.  One recent philosopher, Robert Nozick, created a “work-around” for this problem.  In this new approach, knowledge is said to be “belief tracking truth”:  Your belief, X, qualifies as knowledge if X is true, you believe X, and you would not believe X if X were false.  Presumably, you are aware of some “factor” or “story” that explains why X couldn’t be false.  In effect, Nozick substitutes “couldn’t be false” for the traditional “must be true.”  It took more than 2300 years to get from Plato to Nozick, and one doubts that we have heard the definitive last word on this subject.

The nebulous role of certainty in accepting propositions: One might contrast certainty in the mathematical and logical worlds; a high degree of confidence for at least some empirical laws in the physical world; and sufficient reason for actions or beliefs in the moral or religious worlds.  Mathematical propositions that follow from self-evident principles and deductive proof are considered to be certain, because the “mind’s eye” sees, and assents to, each step in the proof.  Perceptions, being empirical, can sometimes be accumulated so as to allow the formulation of physical hypotheses, which in turn are tested via falsifiability criteria and possibly accepted with a high degree of confidence.  Some moral and religious propositions are thought to be so “existentially charged” that they rise to the level of “moral certainty” or “incontrovertible belief.”  One recalls that Aristotle’s practical syllogisms envision propositions as premises and actions as conclusions.  In the Christian New Testament (Hebrews 11:1), one reads that “faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (NIV-1983).  Thus, the idea of certainty surpasses its original domain of mathematics and logic, migrating into the domain of religious faith.

Biblical Background: The Hebrew Bible contains 24 books divided among the five books of the Law (Torah) given to Moses; the eight books of the Prophets; and the eleven books of the Writings (e.g., Psalms, Chronicles, etc.).  The Hebrew Bible was translated into Greek as the Septuagint, which presents the books distributed among four sections (Law, History, Poetry, and Prophets) for use by Greek-speaking Jews in the third century B.C.  The Torah is referred to in Greek as the “five scrolls,” or “Pentateuch.”  The Christian Old Testament is essentially based on translation from the Hebrew Bible, with the Septuagint being available for context.  The first book of the Law is referred to (in English) either as The First Book of Moses or as Genesis, which is a Greek word that means “origin, source, or beginning,” albeit not a word that actually occurs in the Septuagint itself.  After the lifetime of Jesus of Nazareth, his followers produced a completely different set of writings that followed a different canon and that became known as the “New Testament.”

The first Hebrew word of the First Book of Moses is translated into English (NIV) as “in the beginning.”  According to the Bible-hub Interlinear web resource, this Hebrew word occurs four other times in the Hebrew Bible (always in the book of Jeremiah), in Jeremiah 26:1, 27:1, 28:1, and 49:34.  All four occurrences in Jeremiah are translated into English (NIV) as “early in the reign of …”  Thus, the same Hebrew word can bear two different senses, either as indicating an absolute or unqualified beginning or as indicating “relatively early” or “near the beginning” of a particular king’s reign.  The English translation of Genesis 1:1 as “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” is on solid ground.

However, the first two Greek words of the Septuagint (in Genesis 1:1) are transliterated as “en arche,” which means “as a first rule, highest ruler, or philosophical first principle.”  (One recalls that “monarch” means “the one ruler of a government or of a nation.”  See also Philip Wheelwright, “The Presocratics,” Odyssey Press, 1966, p. 15.)  On this Greek view, the English translation of Genesis 1:1 becomes “As a first rule or highest ruler or first principle of the universe, God created the heavens and the earth.”  The question arises: How could this utterly novel, Septuagint-based “context” of Genesis 1:1 have arisen?

The apparent answer is that Greek translators make Greek philosophical presuppositions, which God evidently intended to introduce into his Biblical revelation.  Some pre-Socratic Greek philosophers had proposed that one or another of the classical elements (earth, air, fire, and water) is the fundamental source, or arche, of all matter; which is to say, a basic, irreducible substance from which all other matter is composed.  In the case of Genesis 1:1 in the Septuagint, if the Creation truly occurred “in the beginning,” then the Creation is not a part of any temporal sequence.  Instead, temporal sequences arose within the Creation.  In the ancient Greek view, the Creator must be a true first principle, or arche, existing outside of time, not an interloper in the temporal order.  A “creator within time” could only be what the Greeks called a demiurge, a cosmic worker who fashioned the universe out of pre-existing materials (as in line 28a6 in the Platonic dialog, Timaeus).

The Septuagint version of Genesis, Chapter 1, envisions a logical sequence of purposes to be fulfilled, or tasks to be completed, while God “speaks the universe into existence.”  This type of creation is consistent with the Aristotelian worldview that there exists an Unmoved Mover who is a first principle or final cause of the universe.  Moreover, Greek presuppositions are useful in dealing with philosophical questions such as the apparent problem of a “young earth” at variance with the modern estimate (nearly 5 billion years) for the age of the earth.

The Septuagint does not seem to be “just one more translation” that is a forerunner of the relatively recent KJV or NIV translations.  Instead, the Septuagint seems to be a divine authorization, or warrant, to take Greek philosophical presuppositions seriously.

In the following blog posting, a second preliminary essay will deal with some guidelines for the historical dating of certain prominent Biblical events - - events that are remote in time and that typically allow only very imprecise suggestions for their historical dates.

Biblical Sermons, Commentaries, and Essays

Recently, the author of this blog posting heard online an otherwise good Christian sermon based on Chapter 10 of the Book of Luke, a sermon that was regrettably impaired by one flaw.  This sermon began promisingly enough by exploring the conditions under which it is advisable to be vulnerable (no extra shoes or luggage, etc.) when venturing forth to spread the gospel.  Such evangelists, being without dedicated supply lines, are like lambs among wolves.  The 70 (or 72) evangelists sent out in pairs by Jesus were directed to “set up shop” for peace and healing in every town and place that were about to be visited by Jesus.  Such locations would wind up being classified, retrospectively, either as “welcoming towns” or as “unwelcoming towns.”  When leaving either type of town, these 70 (or 72) evangelists were to proclaim the positive message that “the Kingdom of God has come close to you.”

However, in order to complete the unitary (single and complete) train of thought based on Luke 10:1-12, it should be noted that the evangelists departing from an unwelcoming town were also told to wipe the dust off of their feet as a warning against that town’s ways.  The unwelcoming town thereby elicited from Jesus the ominous pronouncement to the effect that “It will be more tolerable on ‘that day’ (the day of judgment) for the city of Sodom than for the unwelcoming town just left behind.”  This comment presupposes that the city of Sodom had previously set a high bar for maximally sinful behavior, a high bar that is nevertheless surpassed by the unwelcoming town under consideration.  Ultimately, one might argue about the results of a competition for the “worst of the worst” places, towns or cities; but wouldn’t it be a lot easier (i.e., more straightforward) merely to strive for the status of “welcoming town”?

Why does the Zeitgeist consider Luke 10:12 to be so “radioactive” that it may be neither explored nor mentioned?  (Related discussions of other cities exist in Luke 10:13-24.)  Clearly, what is needed is an authoritative Biblical commentary or book of essays, which includes Luke 10:12 and offers a way to finesse its interpretation.  But, of course, one surmises that the entire problem is that no authorities have survived the Zeitgeist’s contemporary reign of terror.  Not volunteering, as he most certainly is not, to receive theological tumbril-service at the present time, the present writer will also not elaborate upon Luke 10:12 in this essay.  On the other hand, the present writer is now sufficiently motivated to contemplate writing a limited series of Biblical commentaries or essays that might help promote mental clarity and avoid regrettable exegetical shortcuts.

A commentary is an explanation of, or an opinion about, a given text at hand.  An essay is a short work on, or an “attempt at,” a topic presumably written up as a text elsewhere.  Regarding either a text or a topic: Exegesis is a particular instance of interpretation (determination of meaning, including authorial intent); whereas hermeneutics is the general theory and methodology of interpretation (including the interpreter’s own viewpoint and presuppositions).

Commentaries on books of the Christian Bible may start with exegesis; but they inevitably incorporate some related topics from history, philosophy, sociology, etc.  At what point does the sheer volume of such related topics swamp out the Biblical exegesis and turn a purported commentary (text-based) into an essay (topic-based)?  Here, “swamping out” means overly reducing the analytical emphasis on authorial intent in favor of the interpreter’s own viewpoint.

It might be best to view the writing at hand as an introduction to a proposed series of hybrid commentary-essays on Biblical texts, as well as on some topics in the history and philosophy of religion (primarily Christianity).  For simplicity, these hybrid writings will be called essays; which will be indexed, or brought to mind, by many - - but not all - - of the successive books, chapters, and verses of the Protestant Bible (sixty-six books without apocrypha).  In these essays, some topics may be of more interest to Protestants (e.g., the theory with the acronym “TULIP”); while other topics may be of more appeal to Catholics (e.g., the Vincentian Canon or some ideas from G.K. Chesterton).

The Bible considers faith as trust, as in Matt. 6:28-30, which poses the question “Will God not clothe you better than the grass and the lilies of the field - - O ye of little faith?”  Dealing, as Paul Tillich does, with faith as the object of “ultimate concern,” one might think that there would be widespread agreement about the Bible’s meaning and application to questions of faith and practice.  Alas, not only are there civilizational differences about what faith is; but there are also seemingly innumerable anxieties besetting religious believers: Ontological anxieties (What is the most real?), moral anxieties (What are the criteria for right action?), and spiritual anxieties (What are the grounds, if any, for rejecting the thesis of the ultimate meaninglessness of life?  Or for rejecting the thesis that the existence of other minds cannot be philosophically proven?).

If one were only seeking agreement among Christians, then one might perhaps hope for a greater chance of success in resolving all theological issues in an utterly perspicacious manner via Biblical commentaries or essays.  However, some attempted resolutions seem to leave behind irreducible disagreement (e.g., Luke 10:12); while others are more likely to lead to mental clarity and agreement (e.g., Matt. 6:28-30).  But “hope springs eternal,” and some commentaries or essays may possibly promote common understanding.

Apologetics is, generally speaking, a presentation of evidence and rational arguments in defense of deeply held beliefs.  That evidence may come from Biblical commentaries or essays, and the results may help remove conceptual clutter impairing religious judgment.  Apologetics in the form of certain Platonic dialogs (Apology, Crito, Phaedo, and Euthyphro) predates the New Testament.  For example, Euthyphro poses the controversial question: Is something good because the gods approve of it; or do the gods approve of something because it is good?  Later, apologetics came to be known as the rational defense of the Christian faith, often in the “Areopagus” or “Mars Hill” mode of debate found in Acts 17:16-34.  (One recalls that the Greek “Areopagus” refers to the Greek god Ares or to the Roman god Mars.  The “Hill” in this case was in Athens.)  Martin Luther and John Calvin thought that their commentaries might help to increase the accessibility of Scripture by lay persons and to promote the apologetics underlying such Reformation ideas as justification by faith alone.

Orthodox starting point: In the 400’a A.D. the Vincentian Canon was written in support of Christian doctrinal orthodoxy, where doctrine is “what is taught” and orthodoxy is right, correct, or true (ortho) thinking or opinion (doxa).  In this rather optimistic view, Christian doctrinal orthodoxy is “what has been believed everywhere, always, and by all.”  (Here, “everywhere” refers to the known Greco-Roman world and its immediate border regions; “always” refers to historical time since Jesus walked on the Earth; and “by all” means “by all Christians.”)  For the sake of self-consistency, however, Christian doctrine has come to be thought of as including tradition, reason, and the development of doctrine; because, among those things widely believed and held in high regard, one finds the following concepts:

First, the concept of the “democracy of the dead” (G.K. Chesterton, in his book, Orthodoxy [Chapter IV]) implies that all spiritually engaged Christians have a say (or a “vote”), in what is believed, independent of their current status as being dead or alive. (One does wonder about normalization, or how the effect of increasing total population over time affects the weighted value of past votes.)  This is the source of tradition (what is handed down).

Second, the life of the human mind, with its limited logos, or reason, seems to run parallel to the life of the unlimited Logos, or Word of God, through which all things were made (John 1:3).  Without such parallelism there could be no perception of God in physical nature; no recognition of God’s own invisible qualities, power, and divine nature; no understanding of God from what has been made; and, contra Romans 1:20, abundant excuses for mankind to be and to remain ignorant of God.

Finally, some theologians find that the ongoing application of human reason to Christian doctrine leads, over long periods of time, to ever more highly articulated doctrine and - - if not exactly to an asymptotic approach of the Hegelian Zeitgeist to Absolute Knowing - - at least to a modest development of Christian doctrine over time (J.H. Newman).  This viewpoint was strongly opposed by C.S. Lewis in the Preface to his book “Mere Christianity,” in which he maintained that calling someone a Christian is like calling someone a gentleman (in the original British sense): We are dealing with a description of belief in the case of a purported Christian; and with certain facts about land ownership and possession of a coat of arms in the case of a purported gentleman.  In Lewis’ view, we must we stick to the original, obvious meanings of simple, unwavering, and, hence, time-independent doctrines when assessing a network of beliefs.

We will now turn, in subsequent blog posts, to the presentation of essays on selected Biblical books in English translation (most commonly, the NIV).  It is anticipated that some references may also be made, occasionally, to the Bible Hub online resource for Hebrew and Greek.  Finally, the Schlachter 2000 German translation of the Bible has also been found to be useful.  The first essay will start with the first part of the book of Genesis.