Ordained Servant: The Orthodox Presbyterian Church

Most readers will recognize the name Marilynne Robinson. She is a Pulitzer Prize winner in fiction for her novel, Gilead. This speaks for itself. Need this reviewer tell you other reasons why you should read her new book on Genesis? Although I will allude to a couple of her books below, I will not rehearse her many other books and awards. They are numerous. The reader can easily access that information. Yet, despite these accolades, Robinson’s writing does not come across with panache, but rather with humility. There is a steady constancy in God and his covenant, she claims, even while stating, “My language is entirely insufficient to my subject, but I hope to draw attention to an important consistency to be found in Genesis” (217).

I will tell you why you should read this book. I have come up with ten reasons. Therefore, this will not be your typical book review. Yes, she is one of my favorite authors; however, any good review should include strengths and critiques (in her case, there are not many of the latter). Even so, she has weighed in on a masterpiece of Old Testament literature. Since I am an Old Testament scholar and biblical theology professor by trade, my duty is to report how she may have come up short in certain respects. I will recount ten reasons why officers in the church should read this new book. Then, I will add some notes of caution about how she may have over-argued her case.

1. She emphasizes the point that Genesis is unique among contemporary literary texts in the ancient Near East (hence, ANE), although influenced by its neighbors. She talks about the myths of Babylon, Carthage, the Ugaritic Baal Cycle, and Egypt, and she is well informed about these other cultures and their epic myths (e.g., 17–19, 27, 29, 30). Nevertheless, she makes no equivocations: “Hebrew Scripture is intended as history” (122).

She is also conversant with the classics, making numerous references to Greek literature. But these are not superfluous allusions, they are used to good effect. For example, when she compares the wily Odysseus and his “ecstasy of rage” in the great slaughter at the end of Homer’s memorable epic (The Odyssey) vis-à-vis the denouement of the Joseph narrative, the differences could not be starker. She states,

In another literature a character in Joseph’s place could have made a choice of this kind, could have demonstrated wiliness and power while he satisfied a crude definition of justice. But this is Scripture, and in place of catharsis there is an insight that casts its light over the narrative of Joseph and over the whole book of Genesis. (226)

2. She is not shy about “poking the bear” of mainstream scholarship, with which she seems conversant. This is especially the case with regard to source critical methodologies that have been so dominant (e.g., 22, 26) in commenting on the Pentateuch. More below.

3. Throughout her new book, she emphasizes in detail, with humanist insight, the great mystery of this sublime literature. She recaptures the awe and mystery revealed in the Bible time and again (e.g., 28, 36–37, 40, 42, 45, 60–64, 95–96, 126, 149). Melville-like, she narrates the story with great attention to small details and suddenly states a blazing insight that applied to the ancient Hebrews as well as to us (e.g., 70, 130). Towards the end of the book, she even alludes to Herman Melville’s character Father Mapple twice and to good effect, who calls Scripture “‘a mighty cable.’ Its intertwined strands of narrative exist in time, which they also create, or assert” (224).

4. Even though her training and expertise is in the humanities, she does not shy away from commenting on the vexed relationship between science and Scripture (e.g., 26, 30, 126). This is not surprising since she wrote The Death of Adam: Essays on Modern Thought[1]: and delivered the prestigious Terry Lectures, published as Absence of Mind: The Dispelling of Inwardness from the Modern Myth of the Self.[2] Both books, especially the latter, delve into the complex and tumultuous waters of the modern problem of the relationship between science and Scripture.

5. She plumbs the depths of this biblical book by demonstrating that it introduces great themes having to do with theodicy, i.e., the justification of God’s ways before humankind. She declares it in the opening pages, and it never goes away, even though it recedes into the shadows.

6. She has an intelligent, critical and thoughtful approach to the mainstream idea that the Old Testament is comprised of “sources” (see, e.g., 4–5, 138, 145). On the one hand, she thinks any idea of a theory of redactors dealing with “disparate, unreconciled documents with no unifying vision behind them” cannot stand (183). On the other hand, she is committed to the notion of oral tradition in this ancient culture (who could not be?) and therefore allows for redactors being involved with different versions of the story being transmitted on minor elements in the story, e.g., whether Joseph’s captors were Ishmaelites or Midianites (184). Towards the end of her book, Robinson assumes Moses is not the author of Genesis when she says, “Since Genesis would have been written, or have received its last refinement, long after the time of Moses (219).” This claim may not be well-received by readers of this journal; however, in my opinion, such an opinion should not keep readers from engaging this fine book.

7. She writes in exquisite prose, and the mere reading of her, paying close attention to how she constructs a sentence, is bound to improve the writing [and preaching] of any minister. It is well known that J. G. Machen and a few other contemporary Christian authors (e.g., Frank Gaebelein) developed a reputation for their beautiful and clear prose. If Machen “could work a verb” like very few in our day, Robinson is a master at construing artful prose, and she can “work a comma” like few in our day. Many modern Reformed writers fall far short of this ideal. Could this contribute to the modern malaise of why confessional Reformed theology has not achieved a significant following for one of the greatest systems of theological thought? To paraphrase a Federal Vision author, which I rarely do, Reformed theology is the best looking ship in dry dock. We desperately need authors like Marilynne Robinson to help us learn how to capture our sublime theology in captivating prose: she can help us achieve that goal. Not many authors can make the claim about Genesis, that this is a “masterpiece of compression” (24) and “the extreme compression and efficiency of a fragment of narrative like this one makes it feel as though it has been turned and turned, considered in every light, but first of all in light of the belief that God is one and that He is loyal to the whole of Creation” (74). But an author who has achieved this style herself can make such claims (with exquisite self-effacement). Robinson takes it a step further. I am no stylist, and my prose is chubby. I am thankful for good editors throughout the decades that have made it less so. But Robinson is a master. I stopped counting her artful use of commas at the end of a sentence (to focus on a point being made). Her timing and cadence are impeccable. She educates on the narrative’s “point of view” (or lack thereof, cf., 187) throughout the book. She is intimately aware of how the narrative arc of a story works and even more so how narrative tension occurs in a story. Additionally, she knows how characterizations are intertwined with these, or should be.

8. She is unafraid to step into the rarified atmosphere of theology. For example, she addresses God’s impassibility (65), God’s justice (e.g., 204, 226) tempered by grace (216), making moral sense of history, and the vengeance claimed by God alone.

9. She (and the publishers) has provided a translation of Genesis at the end of the book, which in my opinion is not a weakness or liability; rather, it is a strength (for reasons explained below). Although she quotes the KJV throughout her book, she is not slavishly bound by it. Some readers may be wondering if she is committed to the textus receptus version of the Old Testament. My guess is that because she is a woman of letters who appreciates good prose, she chose the KJV for that reason (for anyone who knows anything about the process that the KJV went through, this is answer enough). However, there may be another reason why it is good that she chose the KJV, whether or not she is even aware of this. The KJV sounds archaic and “other worldly” to most Americans and to most English speakers around the world. Thus, Robinson has (whether inside of conscious awareness or outside, I do not know) chosen a version that communicates something “distant” and “far away” from our language and culture, though beautiful. Our Old Testament is written in Hebrew and Aramaic. Therefore, her choice fits like a glove. That is exactly what she should and did communicate in her translation choice. Even so, she seems somewhat familiar with Hebrew, and I am glad she is willing to cite other translations (e.g., 93) to alert the reader to differences of opinion. Consider her comparison between the JPS translation and the RSV on pages 140–41. Concerning whether English can correctly capture the nuances of a preposition in Hebrew, she concludes the discussion with, “English has no way of expressing the ambiguity of this utterance.”

10. She exquisitely and most importantly demonstrates how this archaic literature prefigures Christ, showcasing his glorious work of forgiveness and grace through figural language in these stories (e.g., 104).

In our day, many officers in the church are still overly exercised and flirting with such minor topics as “the length of the days” expressed in Genesis, or how old the earth really is. But the fact of the matter is that the bastion of Reformed orthodoxy has been sieged by attacks on graver and more consequential topics, such as the historicity of Adam, let alone Abraham or the Exodus.[3] Robinson’s book is a breath of fresh air on Genesis and for us who are trying to reach a lost and decaying culture crying out for answers.

The one area I wish she had discussed is the difficulty attached to considering the relationship of the Old Testament (Genesis in this case) to her ANE neighbors. This is an extremely complex task and involves risk, especially considering the antiquity of the data in question.[4] Some grouping on a continuum along a spectrum, ranging from minimalist to maximalist, about influence and polemics regarding Genesis and contemporary myths would have been helpful. I would consider Robinson a maximalist, in the sense that Genesis is indeed polemicizing against its neighbor’s myths. But here, as an example, she could have employed the work of the great Harvard Semitic scholar W. L. Moran,[5] who was convinced that Genesis 9:1ff. was a direct polemic or rejection of the Atra-Hasis epic, even though other scholars (Lambert and Millard) saw the differences between Atra-Hasis and the Genesis account as too great for any direct connection.[6] For the record, Atra-Hasis is not a mere variant of the Gilgamesh epic, it is in this Akkadian work that we find the standard account of man’s creation from the Babylonian sources. Here I quibble, and it may sound to the reader like Chesterton’s quip from another context, “The doctors disagree, as it is the business of doctors to do.”

Even so, more important here is her weighing in against any view of “mythological revisionism.” This is the position that Genesis is merely a reflex based upon previous mythological pagan texts like the Enuma Elish, the Gilgamesh Epic, or Atra-Hasis. No, she has eloquently shown that in the Genesis account of creation there is no polytheism. There is no theogony. There is no theomachy. Indeed, she has shown that the portrayal of God and his deeds is fundamentally and categorically different than its neighbors. In another context, writing against the mythological revisionists, I said, “It seems to me that the church would best serve its people by situating the biblical creation story in its cultural setting and then demonstrate how it is different and unique in comparison with other ancient Near Eastern worldviews.”[7] This is the kind of mandate Robinson has fulfilled.

One gains the impression that Robinson has chewed upon, meditated upon, reassessed time and again, and finally understood the story of Genesis. She has not only sipped but drunk deeply from this well. She has insights to share. She assists the reader in recapturing the mystery and surprise of God’s grace through the messy lives found in the book of Genesis. She is astounded by and communicates exquisitely the realism of the ugliness, darkness, and horror of earth dwellers, the humanity of saints, and how challenging plodding through life can be. But above all, and this is where the beauty of the book captivates, she unveils the encouragement of God’s grace working back of and behind the outworking of the mystery of iniquity narrated in the story line.

She concludes her essay on Genesis with this clash of cymbals,

I know of no other literature except certain late plays of Shakespeare that elevates grace as this book does . . . Joseph’s act of forgiveness in effect opens the way for them to assume their essential, though unexplained and unrecorded role in sacred history. In every instance where it arises, forgiveness is rewarded by consequences that could not have been foreseen or imagined. (228–29)

Take up and read, you will not be disappointed.

Endnotes

[1] Marilyn Robinson, The Death of Adam: Essays on Modern Thought (Picador, 1998, 2005).

[2] Marilyn Robinson, Absence of Mind: The Dispelling of Inwardness from the Modern Myth of the Self (Yale, 2010).

[3] “Genesis prepares us for the book of Exodus of course.”

[4] For further information, including bibliography, the reader may consult my discussion in Appendix 1, “Ancient Near Eastern Context” of The Report of the Committee to Study the Views of Creation, printed pages 270–91 of the Minutes of the Seventy-First General Assembly (June 2–8, 2004) or available online at the denomination’s site: https://opc.org/GA/creation.html#Ancient.

[5] W. L. Moran, “Atrahasis: The Babylonian Story of the Flood,” Biblica 52 (1971): 51–61.

[6] Bryan Estelle, “The Old Testament and the Comparative Method,” The Confessional Presbyterian, Volume 6, (2010): 145–66, especially at 164. See, e.g., W. G. Lambert, “A New Look at the Babylonian Background of Genesis” in I Studied Inscriptions Before the Flood: Ancient Near Eastern, Literary, and Linguistic Approaches to Genesis 1-11, eds. Richard S. Hess and David Toshio Tsumura (Eisenbrauns, 1994), 96–113, especially at 102–03.

[7] Bryan Estelle, “The Old Testament and the Comparative Method,” The Confessional Presbyterian, (Vol. 6, 2010), 145–66, especially at 164.

Bryan D. Estelle is a minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and serves as professor of Old Testament at Westminster Seminary California in Escondido, California. Ordained Servant Online, December, 2024.