How to Read Genesis 1–11: Context, Genre, and Theology

Editor’s note: This is one of my most popular posts of all time. This post was originally written several years ago (2019) and has been lightly updated to reflect developments in contemporary biblical scholarship, while preserving its original argument, tone, and structure. I’ve also recently written a piece on Genesis 1-11 here.

I also recommend watching this video on Genesis 1-11 by Bible Project if you’re more of a visual learner.

It really all began in Bible college.

I took Intro to the Old Testament and Intro to the New Testament in my first year. Naturally, in the first semester of our OT class, we began to comb through the Torah. But in my NT class, surprisingly, we spent more time in the Old Testament and then in the intertestamental period than I was expecting.

For a while, I was a bit confused. I didn’t want to spend time in Genesis 1–3 or Exodus. Let’s just talk about Jesus and the Gospels.

However, as time went on, I began to realise how important it was to understand that the New Testament is really just the culmination, fulfilment, and climax of everything the Old Testament was working towards. Essentially, the New Testament makes the most sense only in light of the Old Testament, in the same way that Avengers: Endgame only makes sense in light of all the prequels.

Thus, my love for the Bible truly started to evolve. I was now beginning to see that the Bible wasn’t just a collection of random independent books with neat little stories that we can enjoy or live by. Instead, it is, as the Bible Project often puts it, a unified story that leads to Jesus (Tim Mackie).

Eventually, it was Tim Mackie and the Bible Project that went even further in showing me the importance of the Old Testament story, particularly the role Genesis 1–11 plays. In fact, I’ve developed such a love for Genesis 1–11 that if I ever were to go into scholarship, it would have to be related to this section of Scripture. Until then, I must sate my curiosity with blogging about it.

Why Genesis 1–11 Matters

Genesis 1–11 is one of the most vital sections in all of Scripture. It contains the theological mythos of the world, the introduction of God, and the purpose of humanity. Every other story in the Hebrew Bible and the Christian New Testament can find its source in these eleven chapters.

In recent years, scholars have increasingly noted that Genesis 1–11 establishes creation as sacred space rather than merely material origin. Creation is presented as ordered, meaningful, and oriented toward God’s presence. This has led many to describe Genesis 1 as functioning like a cosmic temple narrative, with humanity placed within creation as God’s image-bearing representatives (John H. Walton; G. K. Beale).

Before jumping in, however, we must consider two things first: context and genre.

How to Read the Bible: Context, Audience, and Genre

When you study any section of the Bible, three questions must come to mind:

1. Who is the author, and who is the intended audience?

2. What is the context of this verse or passage, both canonical and historical?

3. What is the literary genre (historical, narrative, poetry, apocalyptic, wisdom, epistle)?

These questions help us move closer to the author’s intent and how the original audience would have received the text. Answering them doesn’t necessarily guarantee an accurate interpretation of Scripture, but it does get us a long way towards that goal.

Let’s take a simple example: the book of Romans.

We know the author (the Apostle Paul), the audience (Christians, likely both Gentiles and Jews in Rome), the date of the letter (AD 55–57), and the genre (epistle). While the theological purpose of Romans is still debated, these facts give us a fair understanding of what Paul was writing about, why he wrote, and how we should approach contested passages.

Because Romans is an epistle, we expect less symbolism and poetry and more precise theological argumentation. We can do the same work with the book of Genesis, although the results are more ambiguous (Tremper Longman III).

Who Wrote Genesis? Authorship and Tradition

Genesis is one part of a larger collection of books or scrolls known as the Torah or Pentateuch: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.

Authorship is tricky. Unlike Paul’s letters, Genesis does not identify its author. Furthermore, many books in the Old Testament did not have a single author in the modern sense. Literacy and record keeping in the ancient world were limited, often restricted to royal or priestly circles.

Tradition attributes Genesis to Moses, and not without reason. The Torah is frequently attributed to Moses throughout the Hebrew Bible (Josh 1:7–8; 2 Chron 25:4; Neh 13:1). The New Testament, and Jesus Himself, appear to attribute the Torah and Genesis to Moses as well (Matt 19:7; 22:24; Mk 12:26; John 1:17; 5:46).

Whether Moses literally penned every word is debatable, but what we can reasonably say is that Moses had a significant hand in the origins and shaping of the material (John Sailhamer). This naturally leads us into the question of context.

The Ancient Near Eastern Context of Genesis

If Genesis originates with Moses, then his cognitive environment would have influenced how the text was shaped. The Exodus story and Israel’s journey into the Promised Land draw deeply on the Genesis 1–3 narrative of God giving land (Eden) to humanity, testing obedience, and dealing with exile.

However, this is not the only context to consider.

The final form of Genesis, and the Torah as a whole, was likely shaped and compiled during or after the Babylonian Exile. This complicates matters, as there is a significant difference between the world of Genesis, the Exodus, and the exilic or post-exilic period.

Israel reading Genesis while living in exile would naturally interpret the text through that experience. Genesis 3, for example, tells a story of humanity being placed in land and then exiled from it due to sin. An exiled Israel would have immediately recognised their own story in that narrative (N. T. Wright).

Additionally, the Ancient Near Eastern world was the cultural backdrop of the Old Testament. Beliefs about gods, temples, family, relationships, and the cosmos all shaped how ancient authors thought and wrote. This cognitive environment inevitably influenced the biblical text (John H. Walton; Michael Heiser).

Abraham himself was called out of a pagan ANE world to form a distinct people for God’s purposes. Not everything Abraham did reflects ideal righteousness. He, like Israel after him, wrestled with shedding cultural norms in order to live faithfully before God.

What this suggests is that God deliberately used each author’s cognitive environment as a means of shaping His revelation. God speaks into real history, through real cultures, without collapsing into them.

What Genre Is Genesis 1–11? Myth, History, and Theology

Genesis as we have it today likely passed through Moses, was preserved through oral tradition, and was finally shaped in or after the Exile. Chapters 12–50 can be understood as Israel’s origins, while chapters 1–11 function as the origins of the whole world.

Broadly speaking, Genesis is historical. However, ancient history and modern history are not the same thing. The ancient world preserved history differently, with a far greater emphasis on meaning than on exhaustive detail.

I would categorise Genesis 1–11 as theological history told through mythic and literary forms.

By this, I do not mean that Genesis 1–11 did not happen. Rather, the primary purpose of these chapters is to convey divine truth. In this context, mythic does not mean fictional. It refers to the use of story, symbolism, and archetypal language to communicate reality at a deep theological level (Tremper Longman III).

The events occurred, but they are presented in a way that draws out theological meaning rather than providing a modern historical account. As Longman succinctly puts it, “The book of Genesis is not a history-like story but rather a story-like history.”

Summary

To summarise Part I:

Authorship: Genesis likely originates with Moses, but its final form was shaped during or after the Babylonian Exile.

Context: The Ancient Near Eastern world, the time of Moses, and the experience of exile all shape how the text should be understood.

Genre: Genesis 1–11 is best read as theological history communicated through rich, mythic, and literary narrative forms. It tells the story of the world’s beginnings in order to reveal divine purpose, not modern scientific detail.

In the next part of this series, we will begin by looking closely at Genesis 1.

Major on the Majors & Minor on the Minors

Five hundred years ago, the hammer fell, and the nail-pierced the door at Wittenburg, which gave birth to the Protestant movement which, over time, grew into the theologically diverse Church that we have today. Some say this is a bad thing, that Protestants never agree on anything, everyone in a sense is their own Pope, their ultimate authority. People argue that the Protestant movement is so fractured that it works against the unity that Scripture promotes (John 17:23; 1 Cor 1:10; Eph 4:11-13; Col 3:13-14). Indeed I say, the Bible encourages unity and even commands it. But you know the old saying; sometimes you have to crack a few eggs to make the perfect omelette. That omelette is still cooking (we’re always reforming). 

However, I believe as one friend told me a long time ago that the diversity in the Protestant movement is apart of God’s will to deliberately hold the entire Church accountable to interpreting His Word correctly. Rather than relying on just one or a few people to interpret Scripture accurately for us (this is the priesthood of believers). This was a huge part of the Reformation. The Word was placed into the hands of all of God’s people, not just a few “qualified” men. Praise God for that. We can’t, though, turn a blind eye to apparent differences in our movement. One can walk down a street and note a Presbyterian church next to a Uniting, next to a Baptist, next to a Lutheran, next to an Anglican, all within thirty seconds of one another. With the wealth of information (mostly thanks to the internet) and the progression of theological scholarship, even just one local church can have a diverse theological membership or leadership within its congregation. So, how do we then “major on the majors, and minor on the minors” so the speak? How do we minister with the vast range of theological differences even within our local churches?

Short answer – it depends. Read on.

1. Confessions or statements of faith:

Throughout church history, many confessions, creeds, and statements have been written and nutted out by men greater than most of us that usually major on the majors. These majors include the nature of God, the hypostatic union, the nature of humanity, inerrancy and inspiration concerning Scripture, the atonement, sacraments, and in one way or another the Gospel (repentance, faith, Jesus’ life, death and resurrection etc.). Reading through some of these confessions and even potentially adopting one for your church (or even for just yourself) will go a long way in avoiding potential pitfalls in the future.

2. Humility and grace:

We must remember, especially those of us who are theologically trained, to maintain a position of humility and grace to those we disagree with on the minors. Minor doctrines are positions we might take that we believe to be evident in the Scriptures but don’t necessarily affect one’s standing with God. These minors issues might include eschatology, Calvinism/Arminianism/ Molinism, the age of the earth or universe (evolution and science etc.), continuationism/cessationism, again the sacraments (depending on one’s view, you can categorise some of these in different tiers), complementarianism/egalitarianism. We must always be ready to be wrong on minor issues while still believing we’re right on what we believe (otherwise, why believe it?).

3. Ecclesiology, prayer, and coffee:

Almost every Protestant denomination majors on the majors. You should be able to walk into a Presbyterian church, a Baptist church, a Lutheran church, and hear the same Gospel being preached to their members. However, secondary issues can affect how we minister together practically. For example, pedo vs credo baptism understandably affects the way one does church, and it has some bearing on how the Gospel is displayed, but the differences aren’t salvific. Something like this I would categorise as a secondary issue – significant enough that it affects our ecclesiology, but not so important that I wouldn’t consider the person I disagree with a heretic. A third-tier issue is something like eschatology or the age of the earth, these don’t necessarily have a bearing on your ecclesiology but are important enough to how one largely interprets the Bible and in turn the Christian life. These things can affect how we do church (depending on how militant the person is about their position), but they don’t have to. Third-tier issues can inevitably tie into second and even major tiered issues, so it’s understandable why, in some cases, people may not be able to minister together. However, if leaders and members can somehow embrace the differences, it would make for a theologically, robust church.

This kind of unity is fostered by taking the command to love one another seriously (John 13:34-35), to maintain a humble yet open disposition displayed first from the leadership and then by the members. Lots of prayers, as I’ve heard it said, you can’t hate someone you pray for often, and lots of conversations over good quality coffee with an open Bible. Finally, I’d say encourage mature theological discussion and training. Whether it’s from a seminary, college or your church, people can only grow if you’re willing to teach. If we can encourage this kind of unity and maturity in our theological development, it will hopefully flow out into our churches. It’s hard but not impossible, and I think the rewards are worth it. At the end of the day if the differences end up being too great, at least walk away in love trying to keep the unity of the faith.

The Image of God: Genesis 1-11 Part V

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

So God created man in his own image,

in the image of God he created him;

male and female he created them. – Genesis 1:26-27

The Imago Dei or the image of God has been discussed at length for a long, long time. Throughout history, some have assumed that the image of God refers to intelligence and the ability to discern between moral choices. Others have thought it’s more about the soul or spirit of a human. I believe that the image is something functional (something we do) and ontological (something we have). Let’s explore.

One of the most distinguishing characteristics of Yahweh is that He wants to be known, and He wants to know His creation as well. This is somewhat bizarre because most gods in the ancient world weren’t really concerned with the affairs of humanity unless thought they could get something out of them. Yahweh, on the other hand, is entirely driven by love, order, shalom and holiness. So what does this mean for the Imago Dei?

In the ancient world, kings were known to be the earthly representatives of their god. In Egypt, for example, the pharaoh was thought to be the incarnation and representation of whatever major or popular god that was in at the time. Furthermore, these representative kings were to rule over their nation as though the god itself was ruling, thus displaying all of the god’s attributes and character. Other examples in the ancient world also show how the representatives of the gods also played a mediatory role; a sort of middle man between the god and the nation. In Genesis 1-2, there is a similar message. Humanity (both male and female) are created and endowed with something of the Creator God. They intrinsically possess the divine (ontology) as they were made to image or display their Creator to the rest of creation (function). According to the passage, humanity was to image Yahweh by “having dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth” (Genesis 1:26) and to work and keep the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:15). What does this mean for us then?

In Genesis 3, classically entitled as the Fall, humanity meets a weird talking serpent (sin incarnate), they’re tempted, they take from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They are then exiled from the Garden because they failed in their vocation to be keepers of Eden and to rule over creation. Instead of ruling over the serpent (sin), they are ruled by it. Instead of protecting Eden (Yahweh’s dwelling space), they let chaos and sin come in and take over. So when someone does terrible at their job, they’re fired. So were Adam and Eve.

Genesis 1-3 is unique. There are several ways one could interpret and understand the story. One way I think we should understand Genesis 1-3 is that it’s the story of all of humanity. God has tasked all of us (Christian or not) with a divinely appointed job to lovingly rule over creation, to work it and to keep it so that God can live among us. From before even the very beginning, God’s intention for His creation and humanity especially was that He would dwell and live in loving harmony with them. This is where the Imago Dei kicks in. Every single one of us has been created to reflect and show God’s very being by doing the above tasks. Reflecting or imaging is inescapable for us, it’s a part of our nature. Now, however, we image and reflect the other gods (idols) we worship, namely death and chaos. Reflect on this quote by one of my favourite scholars G. K. Beale:

“People will always reflect something, whether it be God’s character or some feature of the world. If people are committed to God, they will become like him; if they are committed to something other than God, they will become like that thing, always spiritually inanimate and empty like the lifeless and vain aspect of creation to which they have committed themselves.”

Now consider this passage from Psalm 115:4-8:

Their idols are silver and gold,

the work of human hands.

They have mouths, but do not speak;

eyes, but do not see.

They have ears, but do not hear;

noses, but do not smell.

They have hands, but do not feel;

feet, but do not walk;

and they do not make a sound in their throat.

Those who make them become like them;

so do all who trust in them.

If there’s one thing humanity loves more then themselves its flat out drama (chaos). We’re confusing little things. One the one hand we protest and petition for peace on earth, we desire to see the end of famine and disease, we boil and rage at corruption in government, and we weep and wail over death and genocide. Yet we send people into war (sometimes a necessary evil). We spend $50 on a shirt made in Taiwanese sweatshops. We hate sexual abuse and fight against rape culture, yet we watch porn and get excited over shows like Game of Thrones that perpetuate that culture. We “know” what’s wrong and what’s right, yet we’re in a constant struggle to live consistently. You could say that we “suppress the truth in our unrighteousness” (Rom 1:18). All the technology and scientific advancements in the world won’t give us what we need, a new heart, with new desires, and the ability to live consistently (Ezekiel 36:26). Once, that’s solved, then we can once again image and reflect God who is life and love rather than the gods of death and chaos. How do we obtain new hearts?

Great question. Ezekiel 36:26 (cf: Eze 11:19-20; 18:31; Ps 51:10; Jn 3:3; 2 Cor 3:3), is something God wants to do to everyone in Christ to restore the Imago Dei and have them return (to greater heights) to their intended role in the cosmos. Jesus lived, died and rose from the dead as a perfect human being, as our representative (Rom 5:12-14), so that by grace, through faith (Eph 2:8-9) we can be united to this new and perfect human (1 Cor 15:22) by the Holy Spirit (Jhn 3:5-6). When we’re united, we’re then washed clean and made pure (1 Cor 6:11) – we’re made genuinely human in the Messiah Jesus. Now we’re able to truly love, rule, reflect and keep as God created us to be.

The Theological Pilgrim

Every man has forgotten who he is. One may understand the cosmos, but never the ego; the self is more distant than any star.
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God; but thou shalt not know thyself.
We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful moment we remember that we forget.

― G.K. Chesterton

What a profound and beautiful quote. We’ve all forgotten who we are, and we’ve all forgotten that we’ve forgotten. Theology and studying the Bible then is actually as much about discovering who we are as it is about discovering who God is. Why? Because the more we discover about God and the Bible, the more we actually learn about ourselves. This is why I love theology so much.

God is mysterious. Knowable but completely other. He’s so weird. Unlike so many other gods in the world, He wants to be known. And not just intellectually, but intimately by corrupted, broken human beings. Weird. If I were God I wouldn’t want to be intimate with me. Yuck. All I see is a disgusting, corrupted sinner. God, however, see’s so much more. This is the best thing about theology, the more you figure out who God is and His story, the more you figure out who you are and all of our stories.

Last week I wrote a blog titled “The Lonely Theologian.”  In it, I reflect on the often lonely and isolating nature of doing theology that challenges your tribe and tradition. The reason why these days I find myself falling outside of these traditional categories is that the more I study the Scriptures, and the more about God I discover, the more I realise how inadequate my understanding of Him is and in turn myself.

This is true and good theology: to know the one true God and Jesus Christ whom He sent, and then to know thy self truely.

  • To know: what I mean here is to know in the intimate sense of the word. For the Bible intellectualism, experience, feeling, desire, are all wrapped up in what is called the heart. When God says He wants us to know Him, He means in the same sense as we know our best and deepest friends.
  • The one true God: There is one God who eternally exists in three persons. Father, Son, and Spirit. There are other gods, sure. However, there’s only one worth getting to know.
  • Jesus Christ: Here’s where the rubber hits the road. In Jesus Christ, we have two things happening (among others). We have one person who is both truly God and truly human. To know Jesus is to truly know God and in turn ourselves.

So what am I getting at? You’ve heard it a million times “we’re all on a journey.” This is true, sort of. We are all on a journey… except some of us like to sit on the park bench along the way, smile (or frown), and wave at those who pass on by. They’re fine. Part of the theological journey is learning to love and accept people like that. However, I can’t help but press on. I feel like I’m tripping and stumbling through life with the only thing guiding me is the desire for knowledge and wisdom. I’m on a pilgrimage with no real destination in mind except for the mecca of God. I’m just a theological pilgrim.

The Lonely Theologian

Believe me, when I say this – It would be so easy to draw a “crowd.” I know what the right things to say are, the right doctrines and thoughts. I could be thoroughly orthodox in every way and no one would bat an eye and every blog I wrote would get likes, “amens” and maybe a few shares. I could completely immerse myself in a theological tribe and get pats on the back and a thumbs up from my kin all the while completely selling out on what is I really believe. If you want the easiest path to being liked by others in the Christian Faith let me tell you what to believe (on top of the obvious stuff about Jesus, the Trinity, Scripture and salvation which are non-negotiable):

  1. That the universe is roughly 6000-10000 years old. Christians love this one because Jesus said in order to receive eternal life you must firmly hold to the idea that the universe is young and then be born again… obviously.
  2. The Bible is to be read at face value and read literally. I mean because every single one of us reads the Scriptures in its original languages and has a thorough understanding of its original context. Wow! Amazing!
  3. That all we need to do is read just “read Bible.” We just need a “simple faith.” Amen, I mean who needs over 2000 years of theological thought, translation and reflection to at all help how we understand God’s Holy Word right?
  4. That the Bible is about me and you. The authors of the Bible wrote Scripture fully anticipating a white Western 21st Century Christian to be reading about food safety laws in Leviticus thousands of years later. How considerate.
  5. That our tribe has it all figured out. This one just speaks for itself.

Satire? Yes. I hope you get the point.

Trust me, being a theologian (though I’m not sure if I’d really consider myself as one) is lonely and tough work. You read and pray, and think and pray, and discuss and pray, and read some more. We’re in “ivory towers” not just because we choose to be there ourselves, but because sometimes we’re exiled to the ivory towers by the community of Christians we usually hang around. Usually, what ends up happening one way or another is that what you once thought you knew ends up changing or at least being convincingly challenged. This is extremely isolating because at least in my experience, you start believing and working through things that no one else likes and you become alienated even from people you were closest too. I make note of this issue in a blog I recently wrote but I’ll reiterate it here. Being a good theologian, even a good Christian is embracing “the wrong.” We should love it, look for it and welcome it like a dear friend. There is nothing more humbling and even exciting than realising something we’ve held to our entire lives wasn’t quite right and that there is an entirely new world of waiting for us to take hold of.

I guess my indictment is this. Let’s kill our theological golden calves before we “kill” one another. There are truths worth dying for –  but there aren’t any worth killing for.