Where Mortals Dwell

A Christian View of Place for Today

Bartholomew, Craig G.

• Publisher: Baker Academic
• Year: 2011
• ISBN:
  9781441231963
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Studies

Place is fundamental to human existence. However, we have lost the very human sense of place in today's postmodern and globalized world. Craig Bartholomew, a noted Old Testament scholar and the coauthor of two popular texts on the biblical narrative, provides a biblical, theological, and philosophical grounding for place in our rootless culture. He illuminates the importance of place throughout the biblical canon, in the Christian tradition, and in the contours of contemporary thought. Bartholomew encourages readers to recover a sense of place and articulates a hopeful Christian vision of placemaking in today's world. Anyone interested in place and related environmental themes, including readers of Wendell Berry, will enjoy this compelling book.

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PART 1

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Place in the Bible

For the Bible is the authority, insofar as any historical document is authoritative, for every kind of Christian theology. If we do not know what the Bible says about nature [place], therefore, the whole enterprise of historical exploration of the classical theological tradition could easily be questioned.[1]

Is the final aim of God, in his governance of all things, to bring into being at the very end a glorified kingdom of spirits alone who, thus united with God, may contemplate him in perfect bliss, while as a precondition of their ecstasy all the other creatures of nature must be left by God to fall away into eternal oblivion?

Or is the final aim of God, in his governance of all things, to communicate his life to another in a way that calls forth at the very end new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells, a transfigured cosmos where peace is universally established between all creatures at last, in the midst of which is situated a glorious city of resurrected saints who dwell in justice, blessed with all the resplendent fullness of the earth, and who continually call upon all creatures to join with them in their joyful praise of the one who is all in all?[2]

As Santmire points out in the above quotes, Scripture is the authority for the church; thus, close attention to its teaching is crucial for any theology of place. As we will discover in this section, not only is “place” a fertile grid through which to approach the Bible, but the Bible also yields a staggering amount of data relating to place.

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1

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The Theology of Place in Genesis 1–3

The world is the house where mortals dwell.[1]

Although most scholars nowadays consider the early chapters of Genesis to have been written later than much of the Old Testament, canonically they sit at the outset of the drama of Scripture and in this respect they are foundational. They contain the early acts in the great drama that unfolds, and without them the drama simply cannot be understood. As we will see, they are similarly foundational for a theology of place, and at the same time approaching them through the grid of place is revealing in terms of their theology.

Genesis 1:1–2:3

A Place Story

Genesis 1 is carefully crafted literature with a polemical dimension which sets it against alternative creation stories of the ancient Near East while articulating its own distinctive worldview. Ideological questions have been raised about Genesis 1, and particularly about humankind’s relation to the earth.[2] Norman Habel’s ecological reading of Genesis 1 is worth noting in this respect.

Habel rightly observes that while Genesis 1:1–2:3 is cosmic in its scope, its focus is clearly on the earth. According to Habel, “the earth story at the beginning of Genesis is a dramatic account that celebrates the wonder and worth of Earth as a geophany.”[3] For Habel, earth is the primary character of the story, and the reader eagerly awaits her appearance and development. He finds this earth story, however, to be in stark contrast to the story of the creation of humans in 1:26–30: “The human story (Gen. 1:26–30) violates the spirit of the earth-oriented story that precedes it (Gen. 1:1–25).”[4] Genesis 1 moves from honoring earth to negating it as a force to be overcome by humanity.[5] In Habel’s view it is time we restored the earth story to its rightful place as a genuine counterpart to the human story, with which the earth story interacts in subsequent narratives in Genesis.

There are several difficulties with Habel’s discernment of conflicting narratives in Genesis 1, difficulties which I have discussed in detail elsewhere.[6] For our purposes it is important to note that the whole point of Genesis 1 is to present the earth as the context for human habitation, for implacement. The earth is one of the major actors in the narrative, but so too is the human, and one of the motifs of the narrative is how humans are to interact with the earth. Thus it is far better to see Genesis 1 as a place story than as an earth story. Place evokes human inhabitation of the earth, and in this respect it helps us to see what is going on in Genesis 1 far better than a renewed source criticism which uses ideological critique to discern conflicting stories. Genesis 1 portrays the earth as a potential place for human habitation and dwelling. As Heidegger notes, “The world is the house where mortals dwell.”[7]

Differentiation of/and Place

Contra the Enuma Elish and other ancient Near Eastern creation stories, the differentiation of place that occurs during the six days of Genesis 1 is oriented toward creating a context suitable for human implacement and flourishing. The gradual differentiation of place that we find in Genesis 1 is, however, common to other creation stories. As Casey notes, “The cosmogonic gathering is in effect a formation of place. Thus, even if the beginning is characterized as a situation of no-place, the ineluctable nisus is towards place—and towards an ever increasing specificity of place, its laying out in the right . . . order.”[8] Creation involves differentiation, and this is progressively more determinate and leads toward human inhabitation. The differentiation of a variety of places is evident in Genesis 1 from the fivefold use of the Hebrew root bdl (divide, separate; vv. 4, 6, 7, 14, 18). “From the principle of separation, light; via something which separates, heaven; to something which is separated, earth and sea; to things which are productive of separated things, trees, for example; then things which can separate themselves from their places, heavenly bodies; and finally a being which can separate itself from its right way, the right way.”[9] Clearly the separation in Genesis has more than place in view, but place is an essential element emerging from the differentiation process. Indeed, the placial ordering of the creation is already indicated in 1:1, in which the heavens and the earth are the objects of God’s creative activity. By itself haššāmayim means “sky” or heaven as the abode of God, but here in 1:1 we have a spatial merism, according to which the totality of a thing is indicated by its two extremes, so that the reference is to the whole of the universe.

Central to the separation process and the repetitive “Let there be” is the introduction of time and thus history. Genesis 1:1–2:3 is structured around the seven days, and theologically it is vital to note that no tension is envisioned between this timedness of creation—including cyclical seasons (v. 14)—and the earth, the waters, plants, birds, animals, and humankind. As in the rest of the Bible, there is in Genesis 1 no dichotomy between “nature” and “history,” though the finding there of such a dichotomy has bedeviled modern Old Testament scholarship, giving rise to a false dualism between creation and redemption and between history and nature.[10]

Genesis 1’s theology of place is thus presented in the context of a complex, dynamic understanding of creation as ordered by God. The specific places mentioned are the earth (v. 10),[11] the seas (v. 10), and the sky (v. 8). The earth is “occupied” by vegetation and animals. Similarly, creatures are made to inhabit the seas and the sky. Humankind does not transcend this order but is part of it; as God’s royal steward, humankind finds its place and flourishes through submission to this order:

This network of structures and functions, governed by creational law, manifests his [God’s] loving care for all creatures. Every creature, each in its own unique way, is subject to his constant yet dynamic ecosystem of creational laws. Compliance with it is not an odious burden. . . . The creation order is evidence of the caring hand of the Creator reaching out to secure the well-being of his creatures, of a Father extending a universe full of blessings to his children.[12]

Insofar as Genesis 1 is concerned, the move toward place is particularly strong because, contra other ancient Near Eastern creation stories, Genesis 1 presents a picture of the earth being shaped into an environment that is very good for human habitation, rather than of humankind being created to make the lives of the gods easier.[13] As Barth notes, this is particularly true from the fourth day onward:

The wisdom and goodness of the Creator abound in the fact that, following the creation, establishment and securing of a sphere of human life, He wills to fashion and does fashion it as a dwelling-place for the man who can recognize God and himself and his fellow-creatures, and who in the recognition of what is and occurs can be grateful and express his gratitude. . . . The office of these lights, the heavenly bodies, is to summon him in relation to his Maker to sight, consciousness and activity.[14]

Because day and night have already been created, there is a sense in which the luminaries are redundant, but not only are they not gods, they are given as signs for humankind, to demarcate seasons, days, and years (1:14).[15] In the surrounding cultures it was common practice to worship the star-studded heavens, but as Kass rightly notes, in Genesis 1 “not heaven, but man has the closest relation to God.” In this sense 1:26–30 is indeed the high point of 1:1–2:3, since it involves the implacement of those earthly creatures made in God’s image in the home he has prepared for them. As Heidegger notes, “The relationship between man and space is none other than dwelling, thought essentially.”[16]

Thus, approaching Genesis 1 through the prism of place helps us to see that earth and humankind are both central characters in the narrative and that a central motif is their interrelationship. There remains the question of whether or not 1:26–30 affirms exploitation of the earth. Much has been written about this issue, and attention is focused on wĕyirdû in 1:26 (“let them have dominion”) and wĕkibšūhā (“and subdue it”) in 1:28.[17]

Place and “Dominion”

Rdh, the root of wĕyirdû, can indeed have the connotation of brutal mastery, as for example in Leviticus 26:17, but it need not, and the context invariably determines its nuance. Thus in Leviticus 25:53 the resident alien who hires an Israelite as a laborer does indeed “rule” (rdh) over him, but is not to do so with harshness. Similarly in Ezekiel 34:4 the shepherds of Israel are castigated because they rule (rdh) over the Israelites with force and harshness. This section is followed in Ezekiel (34:31) by a wonderful vision of a very different type of rule, that of the LORD God, whose rule will result in the Israelites being “secure on their soil” (34:27). Ezekiel 34 is illuminating in terms of Genesis 1 because humankind’s rule is a major way in which humankind images God. God, and not humankind, is the central character in the creation narrative, and dominion is best understood as a royal stewardship in which humankind’s role is to serve, develop, and indwell the creation in such a way that it is enhanced and God is honored.[18] In my opinion the decisive key in this respect is that Genesis 1 envisages humans as herbivores; according to 1:29 the plants and the fruit of the trees are provided for food, not, by implication, the animals. Indeed, the same “table” is set for the animals!

Kbš, the root of wĕkibšūhā, is used of the conquest of Canaan by the Israelites (cf. Num. 32:22, 29), but, as N. Lohfink persuasively argues, it is best understood in these contexts as “to take possession of,”[19] so that in Genesis 1 kbš refers not to wanton destruction but to multiplication and expansion over the earth. E. F. Davis argues suggestively that kbš means “conquest” here but is used ironically; in the ears of landless exiles in Babylon it would evoke the land and the judgment that abuse of the land had resulted in, as well as hope of taking possession of the land once again.[20] Either way, wanton destruction of the earth and of animals is not in mind; humankind is viewed not only as vegetarian but as imaging God in his good creation. The occurrence of the seventh and final notice of fulfillment—“And it was so”—at the end of 1:30 follows God’s provision of food for humans and animals, who are also referred to as having the breath of life. The elaborate stress on food for humans and animals in verses 29–30, which concludes the making of humans in God’s image, suggests that an important way in which humans are to image God is by perpetuating the abundant sufficiency God has built into his creation.[21] This is a far cry from brutal exploitation.

While the move in Genesis 1 is toward the creation of a perfect home for humankind, it is important to notice that the goodness of creation does not depend upon humankind but upon God. Prior to 1:26 some form of the phrase “And God saw that it was good” occurs six times, a reminder that the value of creation lies in its coming from the hand of God and not merely in its utilitarian value for humankind. Light, varieties of vegetation, seed, the sun and the moon, birds, animals, and sea creatures are all called “good”! And God’s “very good” comes as he contemplates “everything that he had made” (1:31, emphasis added).

Wallace rightly notes the significance of Genesis 2:1–3 in this respect. Verse 1 stresses once again the interrelatedness and completeness of the creation. “Genesis 2.1–3 stands as a check against any interpretation of the role of humans in Genesis 1.28 that ignores the harmony and wholeness of all the work God has done in creation.”[22] Polemically 2:1–3 establishes a calendar contrary to the Mesopotamian practice of a Sabbath related to the day of the full moon. The Israelite calendar is connected not to heavenly bodies but directly to the creator God. In contrast to the Akkadian and Ugaritic narratives, in which the god’s rest is achieved at the expense of humankind, who are created to relieve the gods of manual labor, the Genesis account of creation represents humans as intended to participate in God’s rest. Thus, “The seventh day is a recognition that the creation is held together by God and that God is the one on whom it is totally dependent.”[23]

Being Human

The genre of Genesis 1:1–2:3 is contested; Blocher argues that it is wisdom literature,[24] whereas Davis and Brueggemann have suggested that it is a liturgical poem.[25] These proposals are not antithetical, and clearly God’s contemplation of his creation and his decla...