Faith and the MAGA Assault on the US Capitol

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything here.

But after what happened yesterday at the US Capitol, I’ve come back here to start writing posts again. There are thoughts I simply have to get out. 

This blog has always been about the collision points between faith and cultures (plural, as there is more than one culture, despite how I have originally named this blog, which was back when I was still an evangelical). The last time I wrote something on it, it was 2013 during the Obama presidency. But a lot has changed since then. Not much with Franklin Graham (who was featured in the last post I wrote here, when I was discussing his persecution complex), but notably Graham and his fellow evangelicals have gravitated largely since at least 2016 (and some in 2015) to a bizarre political candidate in the person of Donald J. Trump.

Much ink has been spilled over the past five years about Donald Trump, his administration marked by incompetence and racism and cruelty, and the unwavering support of his evangelical fan club. People have expressed bewilderment over how they could have even supported an immoral, racist, casino-owning, thrice-divorced accused rapist like him in the first place when he first announced his candidacy in 2015, let alone after these last four horrific years of his administration. Nazis and other white supremacist groups have surged in emboldened activity on American soil since he was elected. There have been several incidents of mass chaos fueled by white supremacy, more than one synagogue shooting, intensified divisions, and barely any effort on Trump’s part to condemn the rise in violence he has incited (in the times where he has condemned the violence, it usually has required the insistence for him to do so from others). 

What happened yesterday at the US Capitol was only the latest in a string of horrors spread out over four years, but it seems to be finally a turning point for at least some of Trump’s supporters in Republican leadership. I’m not yet sure if the tide is turning among evangelicals (though I hear that it is for some), but as welcome as their about-face is, I can’t help but say in response, “Too little, too late.” 

I was crushed on Election Night in 2016. I stayed up late weeping, not only for fear of what would happen to me (I’m a trans woman), but also of what would happen to countless others who are even less marginalized than I am. And it turned out that even before the first year (2017) of Trump’s administration was over, the Charlottesville riots happened, spurred on by the countless Nazis and other white supremacists who shouted hateful slogans like “Jews will not replace us” and even killed a woman named Heather Heyer by running her over with a car. Anti-fascist protestors engaged the white supremacists, resulting in violent clashes, but the president’s response to that was, “There were very fine people on both sides.” 

No. There are no “very fine” Nazis. The president had to be coerced into condemning Nazis and white supremacists explicitly, and that was days later. That shouldn’t be a hard thing to do. 

And most evangelicals remained loyal to Trump and his followers through it all, even up to the last moment before what happened yesterday. 

And what happened yesterday was something the US hasn’t seen in over a century. 

At a rally yesterday morning, Trump urged his followers to go to the Capitol to protest the congressional certification and tallying of election results. Biden won, but Trump has been insisting otherwise without evidence and still has not officially conceded. After his rally, MAGA thugs stormed the Capitol and were able to get past the police inside the building, not too long after Ted Cruz’s speech arguing that Biden didn’t really win. Senators had to be evacuated, hidden in secure locations. Insurrectionists stormed the congressional floor and offices, where they were not legally permitted to be. 

All of this was beyond abominable and amounts to nothing more than sedition and an assault on democracy. But what I want to focus in on about this event was a “Jesus saves” sign that was carried by one of the MAGA terrorists who stormed the Capitol. 

This is where I want to talk about the verse I use for the headline of this blog. I’ve used this passage since this blog’s inception, when I was still an evangelical: “The righteous by their faith will live” (Habakkuk 2:4). The Hebrew word often translated as “faith” there is אֱמוּנָה (’emûnah), which can perhaps better be understood as “faithfulness” or even “steadfastness.” Its use through the Hebrew Bible (another name for “Old Testament”) is varied, but its most prominent meaning is “faithfulness.” Its verbal root, אמן (’-m-n), means to “be firm, faithful, trustworthy, safe,” and this is the same root for the Hebrew adverb אָמֵן (’āmēn), meaning “surely” or “truly” (it’s what we say at the end of prayers!). 

In context, Habakkuk 2:4 is YHWH answering the questions of Habakkuk the prophet over how much longer judgment and violence will last. Habakkuk says in 1:2, “I cry to you, ‘Violence!,’ and you won’t save” (אֶזְעַק אֵלֶיךָ חָמָס וְלֹא תוֹשִׁיעַ). YHWH’s reply begins by contrasting the pride of the person being judged with the one who will live by their faith—or perhaps better, “faithfulness.” 

Evangelicalism has long functioned on an easy-believism. It’s why, when reports came of Trump “accepting Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior” came to evangelicals’ ears back during his campaign, his evil deeds were more easily dismissed by “we’re all sinners” claims because they said he was forgiven of his sins, just as all those who are “justified by faith” are (I owe this insight largely to enlightening conversations with my friend Dr. Justin Tse, a geographer of religion). That is, they would say, “We’re all sinners saved by grace, but so is Trump now. So it doesn’t matter what he has done because he has now put his *faith* in what Jesus did for him on the cross.”

That brings me to the NT’s use of Habakkuk 2:4. Paul cites a Greek translation of it to bolster his arguments about what brings righteousness/justification in Romans 1:17 and Galatians 3:11. Justification, Paul, says, only comes about by πίστις (pistis)—that is, “faith/faithfulness.” The Greek word πίστις in the New Testament also has a broad semantic range, just as the Hebrew word אֱמוּנָה does. There is even a phrase Paul likes to use in his letters— πίστις Χριστοῦ (pistis Christou)—which could be understood either as “faithfulness of Messiah” or “faith in Messiah,” depending on how one understands the “of”relationship between these two words. Or perhaps it’s both that is meant.

In any event, it doesn’t seem that faith ought to move one to violence. After all, Habakkuk asks YHWH to save him and others from violence (see Habakkuk 1:2). And if Jesus “saves,” must we see that salvation as an ethereal, “forensic” salvation from hell, as we were often taught? Perhaps it may be possible to say that Jesus “saves” one from devoting one’s life to violence, among other things, if one follows a responsible, non-oppressive interpretation his teachings and does not merely wear his name like a badge. We can get into the Hebrew and Greek verbs translated as “save” and their nuances in detail for our next post, but suffice it to say for now that “saving” in the Bible describes many situations and contexts, including deliverance from literal bondage and healing from disease. 

If “Jesus saves,” may he save us from people like the person carrying that sign on the steps of the US Capitol yesterday. May he save us from oppression, from our own hatred of others, from our darkest motivations. May he save us from failing to recognize the humanity in all people. And may he save us from wicked actions—which the Bible refers to in many ways, but one of them is “sin.” 

Be well. Be kind to one other. And love your neighbor. All easier said than done, but all super important for a healthy society. Anyway, those are my ramblings for today! Thanks for listening. :) 

Franklin Graham and Tolerance: What's the Right Question to Ask Here?

Recently, Frankin Graham wrote an article called “Is Our Nation Intolerant of Christianity?”

The question Graham is asking has been asked many times before by many conservative American evangelicals in a land where they enjoy the freedom to ask this question (and others like it). They also have the freedom to have any opinion on this question or any other one.

I remember reading several books and articles and hearing opinions from my fellow evangelicals growing up that we are often persecuted in this country, whether by a liberal press or secular university professors or President Clinton or President Obama. 

People champion tolerance for everyone but conservative Christians, I was told.

Graham complains, “There is scandal after scandal, and yet our nation’s leaders seem even more belligerent  toward Christians.”

But here’s the problem: As Friendly Atheist blogger Hemant Mehta has already pointed out, Franklin Graham begins his article with the following line (note especially the very first phrase, highlighted for you in red in case you miss it): 

Recently I was at a White House meeting with Vice President Joe Biden and had the opportunity to remind him that our main problem in America is that we have taken God out of our society and out of our government.

Dear Mr. Graham: 

If you, a prominent conservative Christian leader, begin your article by saying you were invited to a meeting with the Vice President of the United States, you have already disproved the point you’re trying to make. 

You were invited by the Vice President of the United States. How is it that “our nation’s leaders seem even more belligerent toward Christians” again?

Also, if you read Graham’s article, he says that the “BGEA [Billy Graham Evangelistic Association] was audited last September, and many believe it was because we encouraged voters to take a strong stand on same-sex marriage issues and biblical values.”

Before making claims like this, you had better be able to come up with hard evidence for them. I understand that the IRS has been criticized recently for its recent act of targeting certain conservative groups that have displayed some resistance to some government policies (the Tea Party is known for not being very happy about taxes), but I seriously doubt that the audit is necessarily due to any stand on same-sex marriage (unless someone knows something I don’t). 

This kind of thing begins to sound to many critics of Christianity like a persecution complex, not genuine persecution.

I want to be very careful about identifying something negative we experience (especially if it’s simply not getting our way sometimes) as persecution.

I would also challenge Mr. Graham on his claim that “our main problem in America is that we have taken God out of our society and out of our government.”

In what ways have we “taken God out of our society and out of our government”? That is, I’d like to know what he means by “taken God out of our society and out of our government.” Does he mean that our government used to champion God and does not anymore? Does he mean that our society as a whole used to champion God and does not anymore?

What does Franklin Graham think of the first amendment of the US Constitution? How does he understand that?

I would contend that though it’s possible for people to increasingly forget or ignore God, it’s actually impossible to take God out of anything. God is involved with our lives whether we like it or not. Madalyn Murray O’Hair did not take God out of public schools. Kids can still pray to God if they want—she only went after school-mandated prayers.

Also, America is not in covenant relationship with YHWH the way Israel was. It was not founded that way. Does either the Declaration of Independence or the US Constitution resemble any of the books of the Torah in any way whatsoever? Are they suzerainty treaties, as Deuteronomy is (a treaty between a vassal, such as Israel, and its lord, which, in Deuteronomy’s case, is YHWH)?

No. They’re not. The US Constitution and Declaration of Independence are not themselves amendments to the Torah.

It’s time that we stop treating them that way.

I think we need to think more carefully about how we should apply the laws in the Bible to ourselves today—should we implement the laws in Scripture into national law? How should we as Christian citizens in a secular country founded by eighteenth-century Enlightenment thinkers seek to engage in the political process and influence the laws of the land?

So the right question is not, “Is our nation intolerant of Christianity?” It evidently isn’t, especially if Vice President Joe Biden is willing to meet with Franklin Graham, a prominent Christian leader.

The better question is, “How do we live as Christians in our respective contexts, whether it is the US or elsewhere?” 

Mark 10:46-52 and Service

Feeling moved by Mark 10:46-52. Something cool about it is that it is a demonstration of Jesus' point to his disciples earlier, particularly in verse 45.

Jesus' disciples, particularly the sons of Zebedee—Jacob (commonly known as "James") and John—were thinking about their power in relation to Jesus and whether they would be his main guys.

But after explaining to them that it's not about lording over others but about serving others, Jesus pays attention to a blind beggar a lot of people probably passed by daily and heals him.

Today, whom do we think of as those who exist to "serve" us, and how might we repent of that attitude toward our fellow human beings?

Is God calling you to serve anyone near you who needs to be "served" (not "served" as in "you just got served," but "served" as in "cared for") with a loving action? How might you love that person? It doesn't have to be a blind beggar. Perhaps this is someone whom you don't see as one of those who exist to serve you, but maybe this is someone who is often neglected, not seen as valuable or worthy of being served.

Anyway, just wanted to share this. 

John Piper, the Pope, and Justification

Hello, everyone! It has been a while since I have posted anything at all. We were doing posts on Genesis, but I thought that we would take a break from that for a while and talk about some other things during the season of Lent. Given the recent news about the announcement from the pope that he has decided to resign (something that has not happened in several hundred years!), we would talk about justification in Protestant (and specifically Reformed) theology and Roman Catholic theology.

A video of John Piper has been up on YouTube for a while now in which he is asked, “If you could spend two minutes with the pope, what would you say to him?”

John Piper’s response is as follows (pay special attention to the section I’ve highlighted in bold):

I would say, “Could you just in one minute explain your view of justification?” And then on the basis of his one minute, I would give my view of justification.  

I think Rome and Protestantism are not yet ready [for something, which he does not quite spell out—he puts his hands together here, implying perhaps that they’re not yet ready to “come together”].  

I don’t think the Reformation is over. I don’t think that enough changes have happened in Roman understanding of justification and a bunch of other things. I’m just picking justification because it’s so close to the center. You could pick papal authority, or the nature of the mass, or the role of sacraments, or the place of Mary, but those seem to be maybe a little marginal.

Then [I would] go right to the heart of the issue of, “Do you teach...sir...that we should rely entirely on the righteousness of Christ imputed to us by faith alone as the ground of God being 100% for us after which necessary sanctification comes? Do you teach that?”  

And if he said, “No, we don’t,” then I’d say, “I think that right at the core of Roman Catholic theology is a heresy.”

That last sentence is more difficult to parse, as he is not precisely clear as what he means to say here (if you watch the video, you can see why an accurate transcription of this sentence might be difficult), but I’m assuming that he is saying two things: 

1. Not teaching imputed righteousness as defined by John Piper above is right at the core of Roman Catholic theology.
2. Not teaching the doctrine of imputed righteousness as defined by John Piper above is a heresy. 

This brings me to my core issue with the video: What heresy did John Piper truly identify in Roman Catholic theology? Of course, now that the most recent pope has just announced his resignation, Piper can now wonder how the new pope (whoever he is) might answer his question. How Benedict might have answered it is not necessarily the same as how the next pope would formulate an answer to this. 

Let’s go back to the beginning of Piper’s response and analyze it piece by piece (Piper’s comments are in italics): 

I would say, “Could you just in one minute explain your view of justification?” And then on the basis of his one minute, I would give my view of justification. If such a conversation took place, even if it were only two minutes, it would probably be a worthwhile one. Perhaps, though, they’d need a little more than two minutes to have a truly decent conversation on this issue, and it probably wouldn’t necessarily change either theologian’s mind, but given that Piper comes from a different theological trajectory than the pope does, the challenges each one gives to the other might at least give both participants pause for thought and reflection about how they read the biblical text. And perhaps they may find surprising areas of agreement!

I think Rome and Protestantism are not yet ready. Piper doesn’t spell out what he means by “ready,” but as I said in my inserted bracketed comments in the quotation above, I think he means “ready to come together,” that is, “ready to come together as fellow Christians.” He puts his hands together in this video, suggesting that Rome and Protestantism are still too far apart in some way. And perhaps he is right that Roman Catholics and Protestants still have a way to go toward understanding each other, but as Piper goes on to say, he seems to think that it is the Catholics who need to do the theological adjustments, not Protestants:

I don’t think the Reformation is over. I don’t think that enough changes have happened in Roman understanding of justification and a bunch of other things. It is not surprising in some ways that Piper believes that more changes need to happen in “Roman understanding of justification and a bunch of other things,” but he does not say that more changes need to happen in “Protestant understanding of justification and a bunch of other things.” That is, Piper does not challenge the prevailing Protestant “magisterium” (even though it is not “official” in the same way that the Catholic magisterium is), but he is happy to challenge Rome’s magisterium. I don’t find this to be surprising because Piper reads Scripture through the lens of the Reformation. The first questions for Piper are not, “What are the first-century categories for understanding Paul’s explanation of justification?” but “What are the sixteenth-century categories that the Reformers use for understanding Paul’s explanation of justification?” 

I’m just picking justification because it’s so close to the center. You could pick papal authority, or the nature of the mass, or the role of sacraments, or the place of Mary, but those seem to be maybe a little marginal. Notice that Piper says that justification is “so close to the center.” I would ask Brother Piper, “What do you mean that that?” The center of what? Biblical theology? If so, what is the center, and how is it that justification is “so close” to this center? I don’t disagree with Brother Piper’s obvious belief that justification is very important, but I’m not as sure as he is that it’s the center. And perhaps this relates to his contention with N.T. Wright on the issue of what constitutes “the gospel/good news.” Is the good news that we are justified by faith through grace? Surely, that must be part of it, as N.T. Wright says in What Saint Paul Really Said, but the good news is so much bigger than that! It’s the reign of God established on earth as it is in heaven. That’s the wonder of the gospel. You can’t reduce it to “It’s such good news that I’m saved by grace through faith.” The good news goes beyond this, even into the very fabric of the pangs of creation itself. God wants to reconcile all things to himself, which does, thankfully include us too.

Then [I would] go right to the heart of the issue of, “Do you teach...sir...that we should rely entirely on the righteousness of Christ imputed to us by faith alone as the ground of God being 100% for us after which necessary sanctification comes? Do you teach that?” I can’t claim to speak for how any pope—past, present, or theoretically in the future—might respond to this (and I’m not Catholic myself, so I don’t want to speak for how a Catholic in general might answer this), but I do want to dissect this in particular, as it articulates some things I myself am not entirely sure about. For instance, when he says that “we should rely entirely on the righteousness of Christ imputed to us,” what does that mean? What is meant by imputed? What does that look like? Is Christ’s act of passing his righteousness to us another way of saying that he declares us righteous (in which case I would agree)? Can Brother Piper back up impute as being an appropriate translation of λογιζομαι (“I reckon,” “I consider”) in Romans 4 and Galatians 3? Also, what does Brother Piper mean by “necessary sanctification”? If we have the “righteousness of Christ,” does “necessary sanctification” mean that we will automatically do right things (at least on a general level)?

I ask all these questions to point out that Brother Piper’s description of how he teaches justification is not as straightforward as he appears to think it is. If the pope were simply to say, “No, we do not teach that,” my guess is that he would probably have more to say than just that, and I’m sure Brother Piper is aware of this.

I suppose my main contention, as I said before, is that Brother Piper seems willing to call something a heresy for what is not said, rather than what is said.

Of course, there are major differences between Catholics and Protestants, and we cannot ignore them. (And going over at least some of those differences may be the subject of a future post, but not this one.) But I do take issue with Brother Piper when he implies that it is Catholics who need to reform their teaching, yet he says nothing about a reformation among Protestants with regard to Protestant teaching. Can we who are Protestants really pretend that we are immune from the need to be reformed ourselves? 

Justification is certainly a massively important doctrine in Christian faith, and because of this, we must avoid the temptation of reducing justification to slogans. Our conversation should always be centered around a humble, careful reading of Scripture, always being willing to listen to what people in the church throughout its history have said about this topic (and not just the Reformers). 

Surely Brother Piper would agree that Protestants are not above the temptation to forget to let themselves be corrected by Scripture. As many wise theologians have said, we should not ever try to be masters over Scripture, but we should let Scripture master us. 

What do you make of Brother Piper’s comments? Do you think he was clear and right on the money, and that perhaps I am simply not understanding him correctly? Or perhaps you disagree with my post? Please feel free to express any disagreements or thoughts in the comments section below. 

When Genesis 1:13 and Culture Collide

We’ve reached day three! Our third closing refrain is in verse 13:

Genesis 1:13: “Day Three”


 וַֽיְהִי־עֶ֥רֶב וַֽיְהִי־בֹ֖קֶר יֹ֥ום שְׁלִישִֽׁי׃

“So there was evening, and there was morning. Day three.”

So it’s been three days so far in the creation account, but no sun or moon (yet). Interesting. How can there be light without the sun? It’s not until the next blog post (which will have to wait until Monday—I’m going on a retreat this weekend) that we’ll see the creation of these two “lamps” in the dome.

So far, here’s what’s been created:

1.      Day (a.k.a. “light”), separated from night (a.k.a. “darkness”)

2.      The skies (a.k.a. the “dome”)

3.      The earth (a.k.a. the “dry ground”)  

4.      Plants, trees, and various fruits and vegetation (all without the sun!)

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What are your thoughts on days one, two, and three so far?

When Genesis 1:12 and Culture Collide

Here is when Genesis 1:12 and culture really collide in an interesting way:


Genesis 1:12: “So the Land Brought Forth Greenery”



וַתֹּוצֵ֨א הָאָ֜רֶץ דֶּ֠שֶׁא עֵ֣שֶׂב מַזְרִ֤יעַ זֶ֙רַע֙ לְמִינֵ֔הוּ וְעֵ֧ץ עֹֽשֶׂה־פְּרִ֛י אֲשֶׁ֥ר זַרְעֹו־בֹ֖ו לְמִינֵ֑הוּ וַיַּ֥רְא אֱלֹהִ֖ים כִּי־טֹֽוב׃

“So the land brought forth greenery, a plant bearing seed after its kind and a tree bearing fruit with its seed in it after its kind. Then God saw that it was good.”

Creation obeys the word of God once again, and the land brings forth greenery, complete with seed-bearing plants and trees bearing fruit with their seed in them…

And each one is לְמִינֵהוּ (l’miynehu, “after its kind”). Here the operative word is מִין (min, “kind”). Many creationists who reject evolution will appeal to this term to say something like, “See? ‘After its kind.’ God created each creature ‘after its kind,’ suggesting that evolution from a single-celled organism could never have happened.”

In part 1 of this post, I’ll just present you with two interesting perspectives on this view:

http://biologos.org/blog/the-meaning-of-min-part-1 (check out part 2 as well)

http://www.answersingenesis.org/articles/am/v4/n1/meaning-min

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What are your responses to these articles? 

When Genesis 1:11 and Culture Collide

I took a short walk outside for my break at work, and I took a moment to appreciate the greenery in the outdoors before publishing this post for today during my lunch break.

And this is why:
Genesis 1:11: “Let the Land Sprout Forth Greenery”

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֗ים תַּֽדְשֵׁ֤א הָאָ֙רֶץ֙ דֶּ֔שֶׁא עֵ֚שֶׂב מַזְרִ֣יעַ זֶ֔רַע עֵ֣ץ פְּרִ֞י עֹ֤שֶׂה פְּרִי֙ לְמִינֹ֔ו אֲשֶׁ֥ר זַרְעֹו־בֹ֖ו עַל־הָאָ֑רֶץ וַֽיְהִי־כֵֽן׃


“And God said, ‘Let the land sprout forth greenery: the plant bearing seed, and the fruit tree bearing fruit after its kind, with its seed in it, on the earth.’ And it was so.”



I grew up in the Pacific Northwest on the west side of the Cascades, and the greenery here is really something to behold. We have the same kind of weather our friends in the UK get to enjoy, so the scenery here is quite lush but in a very temperate climate. I live in what you might call a “temperate rainforest,” as a pastor at one of the churches I’ve attended in this area once said.



God created a beautiful world for us to enjoy. But sometimes I forget that I live in an area where it is easy to rejoice over the scenery God has given us. And when I say “easy,” I mean that the scenery is obviously beautiful, and we only need to take time to appreciate it. Yet in our busy lives, we often forget that it’s there, or we mistreat it by being careless with our waste or by neglecting to recycle. I suppose we can fail to appreciate the magnificent gardens God has placed in this world in a number of ways.



Other people are not so lucky to live in such a naturally gorgeous and green area. For instance, some people live parts of the world with minimal vegetation. Scripture acknowledges that this ugly reality can fall on people (Genesis 47:19). We yearn for lush fields, watery lands filled with beauty. Even the drier places, though, like the Grand Canyon, are certainly beautiful as well. But there is something striking about plant life. It's plant life.



So here's my main observation about this passage. This is the first creation of life in this story. The first creation of any kind of life.



God demonstrates that he is interesting in bringing life in the very first pages of Scripture. In fact, the text sparkles with beautiful description here: Not only does the text say that the land produces דֶּשֶׁא (deshe’, “greenery”)—a general term encompassing various types of green plants—it goes on to spell out what this דֶּשֶׁא comprises: עֵשֶׂב (esev, “lush vegetation,” used in other contexts, such as in Genesis 1:30 and 3:18, to refer to food for people or animals) that bears seeds and the עֵץ (‘etz, “tree”) that bears fruit.



Notably, this mention of the creation of fruit-bearing trees—specifically, the occurrence of two key terms, עֵץ (‘etz, “tree”) and פְּרִי (p^eri, “fruit”)—also foreshadows something that is yet to take place in Genesis 2 and 3. Stay tuned. We’re a long way off from that yet, but keep it in mind for now.



For now, stay tuned tomorrow, when we’ll analyze a key word appealed to by creationists when they reject evolutionary science on the basis of the Genesis 1 text: לְמִינוֺ (l^emiynō, “after its kind”).


To be continued…

When Genesis 1:10 and Culture Collide

Now the “dry ground” gets named:

Genesis 1:10: “Naming the Dry Ground”

וַיִּקְרָ֨א אֱלֹהִ֤ים ׀ לַיַּבָּשָׁה֙ אֶ֔רֶץ וּלְמִקְוֵ֥ה הַמַּ֖יִם קָרָ֣א יַמִּ֑ים וַיַּ֥רְא אֱלֹהִ֖ים כִּי־טֹֽוב׃

“And God named the dry ground ‘land,’ and the collection of the waters he named ‘seas.’ And God saw that it was good.”

An observation linking this post to yesterday’s post: Just as he named the dome שָׁמַיִם (shamayim, “sky” or “heavens”), he named the dry ground אֶרֶץ (eretz, “land” or “earth”). First he names the heavens, and then he names the earth (in the same order as those same Hebrew words appear in Genesis 1:1)!

Cool, huh? Also, the seas were a scary place in the ancient world, but God not only made the seas—he named them and saw them as “good.”

Lend Me Your Thoughts

Have you noticed any other vocabulary that recurs in Genesis 1? Any common refrains?

When Genesis 1:9 and Culture Collide

Genesis 1:9: “Let the Waters Under the Skies Be Collected to One Place”


וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֗ים יִקָּו֨וּ הַמַּ֜יִם מִתַּ֤חַת הַשָּׁמַ֙יִם֙ אֶל־מָקֹ֣ום אֶחָ֔ד וְתֵרָאֶ֖ה הַיַּבָּשָׁ֑ה וַֽיְהִי־כֵֽן׃

“Then God said, ‘Let the waters under the skies be collected to one place, and let the dry ground be visible.’ And it was so.”

Brief explanatory introductory note: You might have noticed that last time I translated שָׁמָיִם (shamayim) as “sky,” but in Genesis 1:1 and here, I translated it as “skies.” The translation “skies” (or “heavens”) is because of the –ayim (dual) ending of this word. I translated the occurrence of this word in Genesis 1:8 as “sky” because it was occurring in a context in which a singular object was being named: the “dome.” I thought it would be strange to say in English, “And he named the dome ‘skies.’” But that would have been the most literal translation.

I think it’s interesting that here we first encounter the term יַבָּשָׁה (yabashah, “dry ground”). It shows up only 15 times in the entire Old Testament (and only twice in Genesis). We come across it again tomorrow, so keep this in mind. There is a reason this word is being used. (Hint: Just as the word “dome” was used only to be later defined as “sky,” so the word “dry ground” is being used to be later defined in verse 10 as ________. Don’t cheat. Look back at Genesis 1:1 and see if you can notice a pattern.)

At this point in the creation account, we’ve finally come across the point at which God has created the part of the world on which all of life—including humanity—is eventually going to dwell.

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What do you make of the language of the waters being “collected to one place”?

When Genesis 1:8 and Culture Collide

Now the “dome” gets named:

Genesis 1:8: “Naming the Dome”

וַיִּקְרָ֧א אֱלֹהִ֛ים לָֽרָקִ֖יעַ שָׁמָ֑יִם וַֽיְהִי־עֶ֥רֶב וַֽיְהִי־בֹ֖קֶר יֹ֥ום שֵׁנִֽי׃

“And God named the dome ‘sky.’ So there was evening, and there was morning. Day two.”

The dome receives the name “sky” in this verse. The word translated “sky” (שָׁמָיִם, shamayim) is also translated “heavens”—as in the traditional translation of Genesis 1:1 (“God created the heavens [שָׁמָיִם] and the earth”). This is only the second time that the word שָׁמָיִם has occurred in the Genesis 1 text. So far, Genesis 1:1 is the only other place we’ve seen it.

I still remember conceiving of the sky as a “dome” myself when I looked up at night in my backyard as a small child—and this was even when I was well aware that the earth is spherical.

Obviously, because the earth is spherical, we now know why the sky appears to be dome. But the ancients only observed what little God had revealed to them. Perhaps there was some ancient people who realized that the earth was actually spherical, but that isn’t the point of this passage anyway.

This is a poetic account of God creating and naming all that exists, culminating in his creation of us (verses 26–30) to enjoy and care for what he has created.

That this account is poetry should already be evident by now, especially with the refrain “and there was evening, and there was morning,” which we’ve also seen in verse 5.

So to recap:

Day one: God creates light and separates the light form the darkness, calling the light “day” and the darkness “night.”

Day two: God creates a dome separating the waters above from the waters below, calling it “sky.”

Stay tuned for more!

Lend Me Your Thoughts

Do you think this is a poetic account or a scientific account? If you think it’s a scientific account, please point out why you think so. If you agree that it’s a poetic account, please point out any areas you might think I missed.

Do you think it matters whether we see this account as poetic or scientific? If so, why? 

When Genesis 1:7 and Culture Collide

Do you remember the post I made about the “separation between the waters”? See below for more!

Genesis 1:7: “Between the Waters That Are Below the Dome and the Waters That Are Above the Dome”

וַיַּ֣עַשׂ אֱלֹהִים֮ אֶת־הָרָקִיעַ֒ וַיַּבְדֵּ֗ל בֵּ֤ין הַמַּ֙יִם֙ אֲשֶׁר֙ מִתַּ֣חַת לָרָקִ֔יעַ וּבֵ֣ין הַמַּ֔יִם אֲשֶׁ֖ר מֵעַ֣ל לָרָקִ֑יעַ וַֽיְהִי־כֵֽן׃

“When God made the dome, he made a separation between the waters that are below the dome and between the waters that are above the dome. And it was so.”

This verse represents what happened after God and spoke this dome into existence.  We briefly touched on the waters below the dome and the waters above the dome last time, but I thought I’d spell it out a little more in today’s post.

Check out this helpful chart to see this more visually. Notice the “windows” in the dome separating the waters above from everything below. The “waters above” are released through these windows (or openings) during the flood narrative as rain, and the fountains of the great deep burst forth (see Genesis 6:11).

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What do you make of this “ancient Hebrew cosmology” stuff? I’m interested in hearing what you have to say. 

When Genesis 1:6 and Culture Collide

This is where we get a taste of the cosmology of the ancient world, which was certainly not the same as our own:

 וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֔ים יְהִ֥י רָקִ֖יעַ בְּתֹ֣וךְ הַמָּ֑יִם וִיהִ֣י מַבְדִּ֔יל בֵּ֥ין מַ֖יִם לָמָֽיִם׃

“Now God said, ‘Let a dome be in the midst of the waters, and may it separate the waters from the waters.’”

We’re not yet told what this “dome” is (we discover that in verse 8, much the same way we discover that the “light” turned out to be “day” in verse 5 yesterday).

The word רָקִיעַ (raqiya) is often translated “expanse” (e.g., see the NASB and ESV). According to the Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT), it’s more like a “beaten metal plate, or bow…the firm vault of heaven.”

When we look up at the sky from our vantage point here on earth, it does look bow-shaped, almost like a dome encasing us in the earth’s atmosphere. The ancients had no idea that we were on a ball-shaped planet, no matter what popular Christian apologetics might tell you. (If you’re thinking of Isaiah 40:22, you might want to look up חוּג [khūg], the word for “circle” in that passage. It doesn’t mean “sphere.” Check out the entry for this in HALOT. Also, consider what the point of Isaiah 40 as a whole may be trying to make.)

This dome was considered to separate waters that were conceived to be above it (rain would be released through small “hatches” or “floodgates” throughout this dome) and the seas would be below it (which is why it speaks of waters being separated from each other).

God used language that people in the ancient world understood. It was not important that he describe the earth in scientific terms—the main point is to communicate the message that he did in fact create this earth for us to inhabit. And if that requires “dome” language (which the ancients did understand), then so be it.

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What do you make of the word רָקִיעַ? If you see anything I missed, please let me know. 

When Genesis 1:5 and Culture Collide

Now moving on to Genesis 1:5! After the separation of light from dark, we get a fuller explanation of what this separation entails:

 וַיִּקְרָ֨א אֱלֹהִ֤ים ׀ לָאֹור֙ יֹ֔ום וְלַחֹ֖שֶׁךְ קָ֣רָא לָ֑יְלָה וַֽיְהִי־עֶ֥רֶב וַֽיְהִי־בֹ֖קֶר יֹ֥ום אֶחָֽד׃

“And God named the light ‘day,’ and the darkness he named ‘night.’ And there was evening, and there was morning: Day one.”

This is the first time the word יוֹם (yōm, “day”) appears in this passage. Note the poetic feel to this passage. Not only is this word paralleled by לָיְלָה (laylah, “night”), but the second half of the verse refers to evening and morning.

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What do you make of the fact that this is the first reference to יוֹם in this account? What is this account doing with the word יוֹם?

When Genesis 1:4 and Culture Collide (Part Three)

Okay, this is counting as the real Genesis 1:4 post:

Why the Separation of the Light from the Darkness? 


וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הָאוֹר כִּי־טוֹב וַיַּבְדֵּל אֱלֹהִים בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ׃

“Now God saw the light, that it was good. And God separated between the light and between the darkness.”

Why is God separating between the light and the darkness here?

According to John H. Walton in the Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary, this view of separation was common in the ancient world. The Egyptians associated all existence with some kind of differentiation having taken place. See John H. Walton, “Genesis,” in Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary, ed. John H. Walton (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2009), 16.

Bruce Waltke offers an interesting perspective on the literary theme of separation in Scripture more broadly in his commentary on Genesis: “Just as God commands the light and dark as well as the land and sea to separate, God calls Israel to separate from the pagan nations. Separation is a fundamental concept both to creation and to Israel’s existence.” See Bruce Waltke, Genesis: A Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), 69.

More on this tomorrow! Stay tuned!

Lend Me Your Thoughts

What do you make of the fact that the theme of separation was understood elsewhere in the ancient Near East? Does this mean the Bible is any less inspired, or is that an oversimplification?

When Genesis 1:4 and Culture Collide (Part Two)

Sorry! Don't mean to leave you hanging! This is "part 2," but I don't have time to flesh out a full discussion for you. So suffice to say that you should check out the Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary if you want to get a jump on what I'm going to say in part 3!

When Genesis 1:4 and Culture Collide (Part One)

Today we’re onto Genesis 1:4! Here we go!

Genesis 1:4: “Dividing Between the Light and Darkness”

וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת־הָאוֹר כִּי־טוֹב וַיַּבְדֵּל אֱלֹהִים בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ׃

“Then God saw the light, that it was good. And God divided between the light and between the darkness.”

In this particular passage, I find two things curious:

·         It is here that we are first told that God saw that what he had created was “good” (טוֹב, tōv). This becomes a constant refrain throughout Genesis 1. God speaks something into existence (which John 1, mentioned in yesterday’s post, also picks up with oJ lovgoV) and sees that it is good.

·         There is some “separating” going on here. What do you think the nature of this separating is?

SStay tuned for part 2 tomorrow...

When Genesis 1:3 and Culture Collide (Finally)

Okay, it appears that in order for me to keep up with my blog posts, I have to be free and clear of any grad school homework. I've decided to return to blogging, having just completed a big exegetical paper on Deuteronomy 27 for a class.


So in my last post, by "You will have to wait until tomorrow," I actually meant, "You will have to wait 5 months from now."


Not buying it? Good. That's how a good exegete operates. The word tomorrow in English NEVER means 5 months from now (it may mean "the future" generically in some sense, but not specifically "5 months from now"). What actually happened was that I really did mean to update things "tomorrow" (as in "the 24-hour day immediately following today"), but time got away from me, and grad school ate my life again. (Don't apply this to what I think about the Hebrew term יוֹם [yōm, the word for "day"]. In fact, I think  "Is this a literal 24 hours or not?" is actually the wrong question to ask of this text. If you comment, I'll spell out more what I mean by that.)


So now that I'm in a break from grad school, I can resume my posts. To hold myself accountable, I am going to post EVERY day, starting this morning (and continuing each consecutive morning thereafter). If I don't publish a post one day, I want someone to comment and say, "Anybody there?" (And I am serious about that.) I'm determined to nip this in the bud.


So this means you'll have to put up with all my sometimes nauseatingly lame jokes (well, you don't have to, but if you want to subject yourself to reading this blog, then you do indeed have to). Have I scared you away yet? (If so, I'm sorry. Please don't close your Internet browser. I'm done with this tangential rant now.)


So back to Genesis. Here's where we've been:

1. We started with Genesis 1:1. We analyzed the grammar a bit, and we pondered what the most important theological thrust of this statement might be. 
2. We moved on to Genesis 1:2 (looking at it in two separate posts), and we noticed some fascinating features of this text, notably the words that I translated as "formlessness" and "emptiness."

And now we're on to Genesis 1:3, which brings me to why I mentioned last time (if you can remember that far back--see the previous blog post, the one one before my "oops, something came up so you'll have to wait until tomorrow" excuse post) that I had "highlighted the term חֹשֶׁךְ ('darkness') for [a] reason." I said in that previous post that I would tell you in my next post (which happens to be TODAY's post!) what that reason is. So...

(Drum roll, please.)

Below is the reason! *Insert obnoxious, so-loud-it-hurts-your-eardrums fanfare here.*

The very next verse has the Hebrew word אוֹר ('ōr), meaning "light"! So "darkness" (חֹשֶׁךְ) in verse 2 is being contrasted with "light" (אוֹר)! See below:

Genesis 1:3: "Let Light Come About!"

וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֖ים יְהִ֣י אֹ֑ור וַֽיְהִי־אֹֽור׃

"And God said, 'Let light come about!' So light came about." 

It's here that you can see the contrast. In verse 2, we were told that חֹשֶׁךְ (khōshekh) was upon the surface of the watery depths in the beginning. But in verse 3, God initiates his first creative act, which is to make אוֹר ("light")!

This all the more poignant when we compare this text with John 1. The first chapter of John picks up this Genesis 1 language---not only with ἐν ἀρχῇ (en archē, "in [the] beginning," echoing בְּרֵאשִׁית) in verse 1, but also with the frequent use of the word φῶς (phōs, "light"), which John links to Jesus. :-)

It's interesting that the first thing God creates is light---illumination, turning off the darkness. And the first thing  the Gospel of John does is refer to Jesus using this language. When Jesus came, he was (and is) a light to shine forth into a world of darkness.

Lend Me Your Thoughts

1. Did you ever notice the fact that verse 2 mentions "darkness" and therefore sets you up for verse 3, which mentions God creating "light" to deal with that darkness? Do you notice anything else here?
2. Read Genesis 1 and John 1 side by side. Do you see anything else that I missed?