Perspicuity Again: A Surrejoinder

My friend and ARP ministerial colleague, the Rev. Matt
Miller, has responded over on the Aquilareport
to my recent post here on “Perspicuity,
Exegetical Populism, and Tolerance.” 
I have no particular interest in getting into a public debate about
young-earth creationism per se, as the exegetical issues involved are both
complex and outside my area of technical expertise.  I can, however, respond to some misunderstandings
and misconceptions.

First, I did not argue, as Miller imagines, that
“perspicuity only extends to the more prominent features of the text.”  There are many matters mentioned but once in
Scripture that are perfectly clear (e.g., the 153 large fish in John 21:11).  My point, in
response to G. I. Williamson’s contention that non-literal interpretations of
the days of creation deny the perspicuity of Scripture, was that there is much
in Genesis 1 that is quite clear regardless of one’s interpretation of the
days.  

Second, Miller appears to beg the key interpretive
question in dispute.  For example, he
assumes that the references to “evening and morning” are there just to “make it
clear” that the passage is to be read literally.  Well, more needs to be said, especially since
the notion of “evening and morning” occurring before the sun and moon were
created on Day Four evokes at least a measure of perplexity.  After all, we are told that the sun and moon
are created precisely in order to delineate “seasons and days and years”
(Genesis 1:14 NIV).  There is
no doubt that we have a narrative in Genesis 1 that includes details like
repeated references to “evening and morning.” 
The question here is the narrative’s referent.  Simply assuming that it ought to be read
literally because it contains some details that can perhaps be read literally
is not really an argument. 

Third, there is the character of the narrative in
Genesis 1.  Miller asserts that the
“literary and grammatical features of the text of Genesis 1–2 are classic
examples of Hebrew historical narrative.” 
This statement is astonishing in that it not only misconstrues the
character of Genesis 1, with its distinctive repetitive patterns and stately cadences, but it also flattens the transition from Genesis 1:1–2:3
to what follows in Genesis 2–3 (which is more straightforward
prose).  While the reader needs to remember that I
speak as an historical and systematic theologian and not as a credentialed Altestamentler, it seems to me that Jack
Collins’ identification of the genre of Genesis 1 as “exalted prose narrative”
is right on the money. 

Fourth, like Williamson, Miller defends appeals to the
interpretive predilections of the common person.  In this connection Miller provides the
analogy of a young layperson reading what Scripture says about the role of
women and concluding that her church was not following Scripture.  But how is this a parallel case?  The interpretive issues certainly are quite
different.  Ultimately, matters such as
this need to be settled by careful exegesis, not by analogies that break down
almost immediately.  

But there is also a deeper issue lurking here in this
hermeneutical apotheosis of the common man, and that is the role of ANE historical data to this discussion. 
For example, would the average person in ancient Israel read the text in the same way that Matt Miller
does?  Given that the cosmologies assumed
are quite different, there are likely to be significant divergences as to
details.  I dealt with this question in
the article I cited in my first post on this topic.  In it I wrote: “In recent months, I have
perused a number of Reformed defenses of literal 24-hour, six-day
creationism.  Sadly, all of these works
have failed to take any stock of the enormous amount of data from comparative
studies of ancient Near Eastern literature suggesting that the narrative in
Genesis 1 is framed in terms of a cosmology quite coherent to the ancients, but
which we ourselves do not share.  Now
this is quite important, for none of us believes in a literal ‘firmament,’ or
in ‘pillars of heaven,’ or in ‘windows of heaven,’ or in ‘fountains of the
deep,’ at least as these biblical terms were apparently understood by the
ancients.  In short, we must face the
distinct possibility that none of us is truly a ‘literalist.'” (William B.
Evans, “The NAPARC Churches and the Peculiar Challenges of Our Time,” Presbyterion: Covenant Seminary Review
27/1 (2001): 10-11). 

Fifth, Miller suggests that “scholars have their own
particular cultural pressures in the academy” and that this accounts for their
non-literal interpretations of Genesis 1.  But in point of fact, “cultural pressure” is a given for all of us.  We are all embedded in cultural contexts, and
this sort of argument can cut both ways.  For
example, it applies to the fundamentalist pastor catering to populist
sensibilities as well as to the Ph.D. looking to get tenure.  Once again, such matters need to be decided
on the basis of careful exegesis and theological reflection. 

Sixth, Miller questions the parallel I drew between
protology and eschatology.  This is the
most substantial and interesting portion of Miller’s response, and, like the
wedding at Cana, we have saved the best for last.  In short, Miller questions whether there is
biblical support for this.  He points out
that Scripture itself endorses a certain agnosticism with respect to the
details of the last days, and he rightly notes that there are differences
between the prophetic genres and Genesis 1. 
Fair enough.  But my argument on
this point was more from the nature of biblical language itself, from the way
that that language seems to become more strange as we approach the margins of
human experience, and from the history of interpretation.  While Genesis 1 is certainly not apocalyptic,
it is nevertheless different from ordinary speech or narrative, and the
persistent diversity of interpretation–diversity that goes back to the early
church–bears this difference out. 

For a careful study of the
history of interpretation of the days of creation, I can heartily commend my
good friend Robert Letham’s “‘In the Space of Six Days’: The Days of Creation
from Origen to the Westminster Assembly,” Westminster
Theological Journal 61 (1999): 149-174. 
One of his conclusions is
especially worthy of note in this context: “Before the Westminster Assembly
there were a variety of interpretations of Genesis 1 and its days.  If the text of Genesis is so clear-cut why
did the church down the centuries not see it that way?  Does that not say something not only about
the interpreters but also the text? 
Claims that a literal reading of the days of Genesis 1 is obvious fall
down when the history of interpretation is taken into consideration” (Letham,
“In the Space of Six Days,” p. 174).