I purchased Michael LeFebvre’s The Liturgy of Creation: Understanding Calendars in Old Testament Context because it sounded like it could provide useful information on the Old Testament festivals and calendar. It does that, but it also does much more—and not all good. Seeing the book was published by IVP Academic, an imprint of the not-so-conservative InterVarsity Press, I was not surprised by some of LeFebvre’s accommodations to liberal scholarship.
LeFebvre starts the book with little controversy, as Part 1 on “Israel’s Calendars” is mostly a survey of the calendar system in Israel and the different festivals God commanded. This is a useful section. However, things start to take a turn in Part 2 on “Festivals and Their Stories,” as LeFebvre argues that the feasts are not based in actual historical chronology (we will address this at the end). This provides LeFebvre the groundwork to argue in Part 3 that Genesis 1 is not historical chronology and should only be read as the basis for the weekly Sabbath. I appreciate the promotion of Sabbath practice, but I find LeFebvre’s treatment of Old Testament history to be lacking.
Scientific Naturalism
Most concerning is the last chapter, “A Calendar for Sabbath, Not Science,” so we will start there. Like many scholars, LeFebvre wants to appeal to modern academic sensibilities. It is clear LeFebvre affirms evolution and does not think it is at odds with Scripture. He does not argue the Bible itself teaches Darwinian evolution, but he certainly wants Christians to interpret the Bible in a way that makes room for it. Accordingly, he thinks the traditional six-day chronological view of Genesis 1 puts an unnecessary barrier between Christianity and science:
I do not advocate for or against evolution, but I seek to rein in efforts to constrain scientific research with ancient Near Eastern descriptions of nature. From this stance, it is prudent to respect the consensus of the scientific community on natural origins, which, at present, happens to include evolution. (208)
There are many problems with this statement. First, LeFebvre lumps Genesis 1 in with “ancient Near Eastern descriptions of nature,” as if the Bible is no different from pagan origin accounts. Such treatment of the Bible and the ANE has sadly become common among Old Testament scholars. Second, there is no “consensus” of scientists on natural origins, evidenced by the many scientists who reject Darwinism (many of whom affirm six-day creation). Moreover, many scientists specialize in fields that have nothing to do with the age of the earth or the origin of species, so speaking of “the scientific community” is misleading. Third, no human can examine the subject of “origins” in a neutral manner, and many scientists assume there is no God and/or that His Word has not spoken on the origins of man and the world.
Unfortunately, it seems LeFebvre has embraced scientific naturalism, though he attempts to distinguish this from atheism. Thus, in addition to leaving the question of origins out of Genesis, LeFebvre argues “we should… deny the presupposition that evolution must lead to atheism” (204). LeFebvre’s naturalism can be seen in his claim that “We should approach the science of origins the same way we approach the scientific study of cancer or electricity or chemistry” (201). This may sound consistent, but there is a big difference between testing cancer cells and trying to discover the past. LeFebvre acts like philosophy, history, and the Bible have nothing to do with the study of origins. It’s just “science.” But the scientific method has its limits.
LeFebvre wants to leave the Bible completely out of the discussion of origins—“The Bible neither affirms nor denies evolution as a natural process” (202), and, “I am arguing for the text’s removal from use in naturalistic inquiry” (208). He really thinks the Bible has very little to tell us about creation:
Genesis leaves open such curiosities as the age of the universe, the original chronology of creation events, and the process of creation. Genesis does not tell us whether the world originally came into existence over several billion years or within the space of a few days. Whether God’s word of creation prompted an immediate appearance of animals or launched their gradual evolution is not resolved by this text. (197)
The striking conclusion from these words is that LeFebvre does not think Genesis tells us much of anything about the origins of the world, other than that God is the Creator. Though LeFebvre focuses his book almost exclusively on Genesis 1 not being genuine history, one has to wonder what he thinks of Genesis 2 and the creation of man and woman. Genesis 2 cannot simply be explained away as the basis for some later calendar (as he argues for Genesis 1). So did God actually create Adam from the dust and Eve from his rib? LeFebvre does not address this in the book. Thus, this last chapter of The Liturgy of Creation reveals LeFebvre’s motivation for his interpretation of Genesis 1, which is that he wants to be able to affirm both evolution and the Bible. As he says, there are “mounting layers of evidence produced for the evolutionary model of nature” (207).
Non-Chronological Historical Narrative?
I started with the last chapter because that is where LeFebvre reveals all his cards. As for his specific take on Genesis 1, he argues in chapters 7–11 (also Part 3) that Genesis 1 is “without concern for the original event’s chronology” (118). He says Genesis 1 “is a historical narrative, albeit a calendar narrative” (121). He thinks the creation week is primarily concerned with “establishing order,” with the purpose of making “the land fruitful” (144). He says, “There is a real history behind the Genesis 1:1–2:3 creation week. But this is a pastoral text, not a scientific record” (183). LeFebvre actually affirms the days of Genesis 1 are 24-hour days totaling a 168-hour week (116). But such days are “without concern to preserve the events’ original occurrence timing” (117). It is just the “pattern of a Model Farmer” (7).
LeFebvre says his position on Genesis 1 is close to the Framework view, though with the emphasis on Genesis 1 having the purpose of teaching the weekly structure and Sabbath (7, 120). One argument against the Framework view is that that it basically denies chronology in Genesis 1 while not really advocating a positive meaning of the text apart from God being creator. LeFebvre’s view says the purpose of God giving this non-chronological narrative in Genesis 1 is to teach the weekly calendar and Sabbath. Of course, most Framework advocates would likely agree with this.
The problem here is that LeFebvre’s view still has God presenting events in the Bible as history while we are not supposed to conclude they were actually history. In other words, according to LeFebvre, Genesis 1 is not chronological history even though it is presented as chronological history. He cannot avoid the conclusion that Genesis 1 is “historical narrative,” but then he comes back to undercut it with a qualification—“albeit a calendar narrative” (121). So Genesis 1 is history, but not really history. LeFebvre appears to be playing word games. “There is a real history behind” Genesis 1, he says (183). But we just don’t know what it is.
But let’s assume LeFebvre is correct and Genesis 1 is not really historical. How then are we supposed to know this? LeFebvre argues for non-chronological narratives in the Bible based on information being given that just cannot account for actual history. He thinks it is just that obvious that Genesis 1 is not real history. But is it really that obvious?
LeFebvre’s Arguments Against a Literal Reading of Genesis 1
LeFebvre’s argument is that “most so-called literal readings of Genesis 1 actually do not read the text literally enough, dismissing the dome and waters above the sun and so forth” (200). Thus, Genesis 1 cannot be a real historical event because such literal readings are impossible, and the author of Genesis provides signals that such is the case. In support of this, LeFebvre raises several problems for the six-day chronological interpretation of Genesis 1. I note four of what seem to be his strongest arguments, followed by my response.
(1) LeFebvre argues the process of plants sprouting in Genesis 1:11-13 takes “months in the case of vegetation” and “years for fruit trees to mature and bear fruit,” and thus it could not take place in one 24-hour day (117). He rejects the high-speed explanation because “the passage says the plants grew through all the normal stages; they did not appear fully formed” (118). However, plants growing through normal stages is not the same thing as plants going through normal time. Genesis 1 says nothing that would rule out high-speed growth. Similarly, it seems God created Adam in Genesis 2:7 as a mature human who did not go through years of child development (or if he did, it happened rapidly).
(2) Stating a common argument, LeFebvre notes Genesis 2 describes the creation of man prior to birds, as Genesis 2:7 says God formed Adam from the dust and then in 2:19 says God “formed” from the ground “every beast” and “every bird.” LeFebvre argues this contradicts Genesis 1 where birds were created on day five and man on day six (Genesis 1:21, 24-25) (119). One common effort to reconcile 2:19 with 1:21 is to translate the verb as the past perfect “had formed” (as the ESV does), implying God had already created the animals. This is the likely case. But even if incorrect, it is possible that instead of gathering the animals God already “created” (Genesis 1:21), Genesis 2:19 involved a separate “forming” of every type of beast and bird for the sole purpose of Adam naming them.
(3) LeFebvre also notes that Genesis 1:6-7 says there was an “expanse/firmament” (raqia) and waters above the expanse in the sky. LeFebvre acknowledges some scholars have tried to argue this raqia does not refer to a physical dome (154). But he adds to this the problem that day two “envisions a world with a store of water overhead, comparable to the sea of water below” (156). LeFebvre then charges those holding to six-day creation with “denying a literal reading of the terms firmament and waters” in their interpretation. LeFebvre says it is “better” to simply abandon the view that Genesis “offers scientific revelation” (157).
However, LeFebvre is not seeking to interact with the best interpretations here. Cornelis Van Dam argues raqia can be translated as “firmament,” “expanse,” “sky,” or “heaven,” and is flexible enough to include both our sky and outer space (In the Beginning: Listening to Genesis 1 and 2, 171). Genesis 1:20 even says the birds flew “across the expanse [raqia] of the heavens,” showing the Bible can understand this to refer to the sky. Van Dam then notes that the Hebrew me-al (מֵעַ֣ל) in Genesis 1:7 means “from above” and is followed with the Hebrew lamed prefix, meaning “with respect to.” He thus provides the literal translation, “the waters that were from above with respect to the firmament.” Van Dam notes that this same construction elsewhere means “beside” or “by” (e.g., 2 Chronicles 26:19, “by the altar”) (In the Beginning, 171). Thus, Genesis 1:7 would refer to waters under the expanse and waters besides the expanse (not above it). A similar construction is used in Psalm 148:4, “Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above [me-al] the heavens!” In this case, the waters “besides the expanse” in Genesis 1:7 refer to clouds and rain, not waters above the sky as LeFebvre asserts.
(4) LeFebvre also raises the common argument that the sun was not created until day four (Genesis 1:14-19), while there was light before that (Genesis 1:3). This is not much of a problem. The text clearly says God created light on day one, and He must have provided light for the plants on day three (Genesis 1:11-13). Surely God could have provided temporary light until the sun was created on day four. LeFebvre even notes that some argue the lights were only assigned on day four (169).
None of these are insurmountable problems for the six-day 24-hour chronological view of Genesis 1, though LeFebvre would have you believe they are. Defenders of this view, including many of the Reformers and Reformed orthodox, were aware of many of these issues. Yet LeFebvre argues God gave us a creation account that is in historical narrative but is not to be read as history. This is not taking Scripture according to its literary genre.
Chronology and the Feasts
As noted above, LeFebvre builds his non-chronological reading of Genesis upon his non-chronological reading of the Levitical feasts in Part 2. As he says, “It is my thesis that dates are added to certain events for their liturgical remembrance, not as journalistic details” (60). Instead, “new dates were assigned in the narratives to realign those memories with the agrarian cadences of labor and celebration in Canaan,” and there was “no intention to preserve their original occurrence timing” (81).
Now I do not think this point is necessary for LeFebvre’s case for Genesis 1, and it is logically possible he is correct regarding the dates of the Levitical feasts but wrong on Genesis 1 (or vice-versa). This is because he is arguing something different between the two—namely that the Levitical feasts were real events but give false dates just for calendar purposes, and the creation account of Genesis 1 records false events for the purpose of the weekly calendar. Thus, since I already addressed Genesis 1, I will keep my comments here brief.
LeFebvre notes there are 21 events with dates in the OT, and he says each “corresponds to the festival calendar of Israel” (61). Of course, that is what we would expect. The question is whether Israel’s calendar dates were based on the dates of historical events, or whether the historical events were given non-historical dates simply to guide Israel’s calendar. LeFebvre argues for the latter. Thus, he is saying we cannot really take the Bible’s historical chronology as history. Instead, we must take it as fictitious chronology only for the purpose of when to celebrate the feasts. But why would the biblical authors do this? Why would God do this? LeFebvre is arguing that we cannot really take the Bible’s timing of history as correct.
LeFebvre’s conclusion here rests on his argument that there are too many chronology problems for the dates of original events in the Old Testament and thus they cannot be historical. As he says, “One of the most compelling reasons to view the Pentateuch’s dates as ‘observance dates’ and not ‘occurrence dates,’ is because they work as observance dates but do not work as occurrence dates” (82). He thinks “it can be demonstrated that the compiler of the Pentateuch never intended for them to provide a journalistic chronology” (82). This language of “compiler” suggests LeFebvre adopts critical scholarship’s view of Mosaic authorship (rather than just minor scribal editing), and he even appeals to the fact that “critical scholars” have noted the chronological “problems” in the Pentateuch (82).
Let us examine a few examples he provides. In one case, LeFebvre argues the dates given for the flood cannot be actual dates because the author speaks three times of 150 days, when the calendar would have only allowed for “147 or 148 days at most” (84). If he is correct, I do not see why the author of Genesis could not have rounded up to 150 in these cases, but LeFebvre does not even mention this possibility.
In another case, LeFebvre argues there was too tight of a window for tabernacle construction (86–88). He tightens Israel’s schedule so that the tabernacle construction began round the eighth month, which “would leave five months” for collecting all the materials, Moses communicating instructions, and for craftsmen to train teams and construct the tabernacle. LeFebvre says this short timing “would be remarkable” and “it seems the text would extol the supernatural help of the Lord to accomplish so much in such a remarkable period of time” (87). In what seems to be a manufactured problem, LeFebvre says, “However, since the author of the text does not show any need to explain the rapidity of these dates, it seems he was not intending the dates to be calculated as an actual chronology” (88). This is a lot to infer from the absence of a supernatural explanation. Not to mention, the text does says the Lord gifted the craftsmen and filled Bezalel with His Spirit (Exodus 31:3; 35:31; 36:1-2).
Similarly, LeFebvre tries to make an issue of Moses leading Israel from Hor to Nebo, over 350 miles and military operations in five months, saying it “is a lot to squeeze into the five months between mourning Aaron’s death and the death of Moses” (89). He says the same thing about the census in Numbers 1 being in one day and Deuteronomy being preached in one day, calling it “a lot of activity to accomplish within one day” (92). These events may involve a lot of activity in a short amount of time, but they are far from impossible. LeFebvre thinks the Pentateuch communicates his point—“The Pentateuch does not intend for readers to take its dates as actual occurrence chronology” (92). But if this is so obvious, one wonders why most Bible readers do not readily see these “problems” and adopt such a non-chronological reading.
Conclusion
For all its useful information, The Liturgy of Creation is not a well-reasoned book. LeFebvre echoes liberal-critical scholars in pointing out supposed contradictions in the Bible. But instead of dismissing it as man-made fiction, he tries to save the Bible by arguing it’s all about the calendar. However, this conclusion still leaves the Bible presenting events as historical narrative when they are not really historical. LeFebvre argues the problem is with us modern Christians wanting to read the Old Testament as history, contrary to how ancient people supposedly would have read it. But maybe the problem is with LeFebvre not wanting to embrace the Bible as it is actually presented. He assumes scientific naturalism and its conclusions, but he still wants to believe in the Bible. So he feels the need to argue its creation account is not really history. As the saying goes, he wants to have his cake and eat it too.
