If I'd had the opportunity, I should have had the opportunity because I was late getting my paper done, didn't get it done until the 5th after the deadline came in, but had I had the opportunity of reading Dr. Harris's paper or Dr. Collins' paper, there wouldn't have been much need to write my particular paper. There's a great deal of overlap and I'm going to try to speed through any of those sections because that has already been covered and it would just be tedious to repeat it. I really have very little to disagree with them on major issues on what they have said so far. In fact, with respect to Jack's paper, the only point that I would disagree on would be his representation of the framework hypothesis. But on that, certainly he can be excused because the framework hypothesis is a moving target. As he was pointing out in his analysis of the men, there's quite a wide divergence of people people in terms of the theological perspectives they represent, and in terms of the details that they stress along the way. So it may be that the best thing that I'm going to get out of the conference is to make sure that if I call myself a framework hypothesis that I'm very clear on what that is, because I'm probably closer to Jack's view than I would be to some of the people on the list of the framework hypothesis. But nonetheless, I do think there are some things about that view, which are worthy of our consideration, and so I'd like to set that before you here this afternoon. As you probably know, the framework hypothesis is a view of Genesis 1, 1 to 2, 3, which claims that the Bible's use of the seven-day week in its narration of the creation is a literary or theological framework, and that it is not intended to indicate the chronology nor duration of the acts of creation. Admittedly, as Dr. Harris pointed out earlier, and as I think Jack would admit too, so far as contemporary English readers are concerned, this is not the first impression one gets from the text. The steady march of days, one, two, three, and so on, strongly suggest a sequential chronological account. The sanctification of the seventh day and its enshrining in the Decalogue, as rooted in the seven-day creation, only seems to strengthen this impression. But nevertheless, first impressions and even considered second impressions are not always accurate. Reasons can arise which lead one to reject a seemingly obvious and well-supported view in favor of an alternative, perhaps a more subtle alternative. The case, for instance, for infant baptism must move more widely in the biblical teaching for its justification than a first impression reading of the New Testament accounts of baptism. And it must move more subtly in handling the considered second impressions of devoted Baptists who see distinctive features in New Testament baptism and ecclesiology which call for a rejection of infant baptism. The framework hypothesis argues on exegetical grounds that the organizing principle of the creation account is topical rather than chronological. It denies on exegetical grounds that the seven-day week is intended as a chronological unfolding of the separate acts of creation limited in duration to one calendar week. It explains the use of the seven-day framework as motivated by theological considerations which both undergird and extend the concept of man's being in the image of God. Man's labor as well as his being is to be patterned after the divine image. It has been called by both friend and foe alike a figurative, a metaphorical, a poetic, or a non-literal view of Genesis 1, 1 to 2, 3. Each of these descriptions is somewhat problematic in my view. Critics have suspected that underlying such terminology is an abiding skepticism of the historical character of the events in view. As adherents of the framework hypothesis have come from divergent theological persuasions, including some who do reject the historical character of the Genesis narrative, This suspicion seems to be confirmed. Given this diversity, it is easy for confusion to arise over just what the framework hypothesis is claiming and what it is denying. In hopes of forestalling misdirected criticisms of the framework hypothesis presented here, I will begin by setting out some preliminary working boundaries and disclaimers so as to focus subsequent discussion and critique more precisely. I have roughly three things to say there, but I won't go into all of it because it's already been said. Dr. Piper pointed out that we who have been invited here representing a view divergent from that which is held apparently unanimously by the seminary faculty here. We all believe that the Bible is the very word of God. We're committed to the historicity of the events of Genesis and so on, so I merely repeat that. The second matter is the question of what role, if any, The putative findings of modern science are to play in a sound interpretation of the Bible. If you want to come in and sit down, you won't bother me. Just walk on in. You'd be better than standing there. The findings of science sometimes seem to be in conflict with the biblical teaching. One must always keep in mind the fallible nature of the findings of modern science. Scientific theories, however well grounded in facts, are always based on a partial set of facts. Human finitude permits of no more. Hence, scientific theories are always vulnerable to revision or rejection in the light of new facts. Witness the fall, or at least the limitation, of Newton's mechanics with the advent of relativity theory or the quantum mechanics. One could hardly have imagined a more successful theory than Newton's. It gave explanation to both celestial and terrestrial motion, to macro as well as microscopic and even subatomic motion. Yet new facts, and in some cases old facts reinterpreted, later demanded a rejection, or at least a limitation, of Newton's theories when accounting for motion on the cosmic or subatomic levels. Thus, those who think that biblical teaching must give way to scientific teaching whenever conflicts arise perhaps have not given adequate attention to the corrigibility of scientific findings. Today's accepted scientific truth might well turn out to be tomorrow's discarded theory. A similar humility, however, is called for in biblical interpretation. While biblical teaching, objectively considered, is always true, our grasp or understanding of that teaching is not always clear. Our interpretations of biblical teaching are most assuredly not infallible. We can just as much make a mistake in what we take to be biblical teaching as we can in scientific investigation and theory formation. Witness the Copernican controversy in the trial of Galileo. Among the charges made against Galileo was that the Copernican theory he supported stood in contradiction to the scriptures. The theory of an unmoving sun about which the earth and the plants moved was taken to be an express contradiction of the scriptures. Joshua's commanding the sun to stand still seemed to indicate beyond all doubt that the sun did move. And the psalmist's insistence that, yea, the world is established, it shall never be moved, seemed to put beyond dispute that the earth did not move. Psalm 93.1, 96.10. Given that the Aristotelian, Ptolemaic view of the universe prevailed in Galileo's day, inside the church as well as outside, And given also the illegitimate authority attributed to Aristotle in the Church, it is not hard to understand that the theologians of the time would think that Galileo's teachings stood in direct contradiction to the teaching of Scripture. They were, however, quite mistaken. We are men of like nature with them. We, too, can be errant in our interpretations of the inerrant Bible. Conflicts between scientific theory and accepted biblical dogma necessitate humility by both scientists and theologians. This is not to say, however, that everything in science and or theology is equally insecure and that in reality we know nothing at all. An argument for appreciating the fallibility of human knowledge is not an argument for utter skepticism, nor is it a reason for rejecting the notable achievements of science or the perspicuity of the scripture. It is just a recognition that we are not infallible, whether we are doing science or theology, and that new information might necessitate altering some of our beliefs. It is also an acknowledgment that all things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all. How then are we to handle conflicts between what science affirms and what Scripture teaches? The arising of a conflict is certainly a call to both scientists and theologians to reexamine their data and the conclusions they have drawn from the data. God's truth is one. Nothing can be established as true in science that is in contradiction to what is revealed as true in the Scripture. The presence of a conflict is a sure indication of the existence of error somewhere. Just where that error is to be found might not be immediately evident. Scientists must re-examine the physical evidence and the chain of reasoning that leads to the conclusions drawn. The theologians must examine the biblical data and the chain of reasoning that leads to the conclusions drawn. In the case of the theologians, proper exegesis demands that any adjustment in our views of what the Bible actually teaches be supported by biblical evidence, that is, exegetical evidence. This means that a conflict with science may prompt a reexamination of our doctrine, the conclusions as to what the Bible actually teaches, but it can never by itself demand a reinterpretation of the Bible and an alteration in our doctrine. We do not adjust our doctrine to fit our science. If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater, 1 John 5.9. John was not thinking of Bible and science conflicts when he wrote these words, but they are most apt for this occasion. God's Word is supreme. However much help we might gain in our study of the Bible from our knowledge of ancient languages, cultures, etc., or even modern science, the Bible must speak for itself. The analogy of Scripture must remain our supreme rule of biblical interpretation. If we are to conclude that the seven-day work of creation is not a literal description of the elapsed time for the creation period and was not intended as such by the biblical author, this must be for exegetical, not scientific, reasons. It must also be said that the framework hypothesis as presented here does not aim to call into question the whole historical character of the Genesis narrative. Critics of the of the position sometimes suggests that abandoning a literal seven-day creation week must open the door to eroding confidence in the historicity of the creation events. Thus, Kelly provides five pages of text listing New Testament verses which treat the events and persons of Genesis 1 to 11 as genuinely historical. He argues that denying the literal interpretation of the seven days opens the door to nominalism though he charitably acknowledges that evangelical scholars adhering to the framework hypothesis do not so intend. Whatever may be the convictions of others with respect to such issues, the present author has not the slightest doubt about the historical character of the whole list provided by Kelly. He is also in complete agreement with Young on the three basic considerations underlying his treatment of the Genesis account, namely, Genesis 1 is a special revelation from God. Two, Genesis 1 is historical. It relates matters that actually occurred. And three, in the nature of the case, general revelation is to be interpreted by special revelation, nature by science, science by the Bible. While I am, as a Calvinist, acutely aware of how deceitful the heart is, I have tried to the best of my ability to listen to Scripture alone on this issue and not be influenced by the pressures of conforming to the dictates of modern science. I remain fully committed to the historicity of Adam, the garden of Eden, the speaking etc. There is no intent to remove all conflicts with science by turning Genesis 1 and 2 into Hebrew poetry or reworked Babylonian myths. The analogy of Scripture is accepted as the supreme hermeneutical principle, and if it can be shown that the rest of Scripture demands an interpretation of the seven days as a calendar week, then I will gladly accept it. There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that God could have created the world in seven days or seven minutes or seven seconds if he so chose. My only concern here is whether in fact he did and whether he has taught us so in his most wholly infallible and inerrant word. On these questions, I do think there is room for discussion. Now we look to Genesis 1. It has already been stated that the framework hypothesis argues that the narrative sequence of Genesis 1, 1 to 2, 3, hereafter I simply call it Genesis 1, is determined by topical considerations rather than chronological. Despite the initial impression of chronological sequence, support for this view is found both within the passage itself and by comparison with other passages, especially Genesis 2, 4 to 25, hereafter just Genesis 2. In Genesis 1, day 1, deals with the creation of light, God's initial creation of light, heavens and the earth were brought into being, the earth was formless and void, darkness was over the face of the deep. Spirit of God was moving or hovering over the surface of the waters. On day one, light is brought into being, and the light is divided or separated from the darkness. Initially, then, there was darkness. Then light was created, and light and darkness both existed. They were divided from one another or separated. Nothing is said about the source of this light beyond the fact that it sprung into being as a result of God's creative work. Nothing is said about how the darkness and light are separate. The light was called day and the darkness was called night. Nothing is yet said as to how these two are related to one another. Are there separate realms where light is ever present and darkness ever present in the other? Or is there an alternation of light and darkness in each place? It would seem that as the focus of the whole chapter is on the earth, that it is the light and darkness on the earth which are in view. Since the account concludes with a formula that says there was evening and there was morning one day, It would seem most likely that the separation in view was between day and night as alternating states on the earth. There is nothing that immediately suggests that any of these terms are being used in any other way than normally, with all their usual implications. The light, which was called day, would most naturally suggest the daylight hours of a normal 24-hour solar day. In the second use of day, the whole of the 24 hours would seem to be in view, for both evening and morning are to be included in the one day or day one. The night would most naturally suggest the hours of darkness, which follow the sun going down and precede the sun's rising. Evening and morning would most naturally suggest the times which, respectively, begin when the sun sets and the sun rises. However, the sun does not exist at this point in time, assuming that the narration is chronological. It does not come into being until day four, when the other heavenly bodies, moons, stars, etc., are created. Hence, for day one, as for days two and three, day and night, evening and morning, are not being used with exactly the same meaning as they will have after day four, for some of the normal implications involved in their use are not present. For instance, day, when used to refer to the daylight hours of a normal day, would imply that the sun was shining on that part of the earth where it was day. Evening would imply that the sun had now dipped below the horizon, was no longer visible from that part of the earth. Night would be the time which followed the evening and endured until the sun once again was shining on that part of the earth where it had been night. But as there is no sun at this point in time, nor moon, nor stars, in days one through three, we have a non-standard, a somewhat metaphorical or extended use of the terms involved, since they are being used without some of their normal implications. It is possible, of course, that an equivalent span of time is involved with each of days one through three, that is, 24 hours. Nothing as yet rules that out or makes it unlikely. But if some of the normal implications of the terms are not present in their current use, perhaps others are not present also. Is it, for instance, possible that among the normal implications not now involved in the use of the terms, for example, that day equals sun shining on the earth, is also the normal implication that the time span involved is 24 hours. Might that implication also be missing? Surely a conservative approach is the most reasonable. We should not detach any normal implications from the use of a term without compelling reason. Nothing so far demands rejecting a 24-hour time period, so this implication should not as yet be denied. But we are at least alerted to the possibility that the terms involved in this passage are being used in non-standard ways. On any view, therefore, we are dealing with some element of metaphor or analogy within the passage. When we come to day four, we find a somewhat puzzling account. Here God commands that there should be luminaries in the expanse of the heavens. Their stated purpose is to separate the day from the night, to be markers of division of time for days, seasons, and years, and to give light on the earth. Much of this, it would seem, had already been accomplished on day one. Their light and darkness were separated, and light was given on the earth. What remains to be done? Perhaps what is in view is that a new source of light is now given, one that will not only divide the day and the night and give light on the earth, but also that will serve to mark divisions of time into days, seasons, and years. Yet the very purpose of these luminaries is to divide or separate the day from the night and to give light on the earth, according to the text. These are among the effects to be produced by these luminaries. If we were to read Day 4 by itself, without knowledge of Day 1, we would most naturally conclude that prior to this time no light was given on the earth, that light and darkness were not separated, and that these luminaries produced these very effects. Reading them in conjunction with Day 1, however, we have to alter our interpretation, for some of the effects of the luminaries created on Day 4 are already present. according to the chronological view of Genesis 1. What now takes place, presumably, is that God supplies an alternative means for producing these effects. In fact, Jung says that's exactly what happens. He says that the heavenly bodies are made on the fourth day, and that the earth had received life from a source other than the sun is not a naive conception, but is a plain and sober statement of the truth. That in itself raises questions about the divine procedure. not objections, just questions. Why the need for an intermediate solution? What purpose was served by the day and night cycle, the light and darkness separation prior to day four? Solutions are, of course, available. But however one interprets, a certain tension exists between days one and four, raising questions about the exact meaning of what is being said. In the absence of the luminaries of day four, what was the source of the light on day one? Was it supernatural or natural? Given the presence of the source of light on day one, why the need for a subsequent and presumably substitute source of light on day four? If light and darkness were already separated and alternating in cycles on days one through three, what was added to the situation by the luminaries of day four? Such questions raise others, among which is the question of whether the author meant us to think that day four was necessarily subsequent to day one. I might say here, although Jack and I will have time to discuss this I suppose on Thursday morning, that I don't take it that the framework hypothesis is necessarily arguing that we have things definitely out of sequence. The idea is that there are problems evident that hinder us taking it as sequential. It's not so much a direct objection saying these are clearly out of sequence because I think I agree with Jack on the idea that there's perhaps not enough in the text to decide the issue of sequence, though it stands to reason that you can't very well put birds in the sky until you have a sky. You can't put fish in the sea until you have a sea. I mean, there's an awful lot of sequence that certainly is present there, and no one's denying that there is sequence. Just how much of that sequence we can uncover is another question. The narrative of day seven also raises a question, as we've seen before. Here, there is no concluding refrain. There was evening and there was morning day seven. On this day, God rests from his labor. His work is completed. And I suppose probably in the interest of time, my arguments here are very, very similar to Jack's. The idea is that the Sabbath of God is an unending day. Our Sabbath is certainly not an unending day, though the Sabbath will be when we finally enter into it. But the Sabbath that is commended to us in Exodus is a 24-hour day, and it thus stands in a relationship to the eternal Sabbath that we would call analogical. Our Sabbath is an analogy. It is a type of the eternal Sabbath. It's not the same. God didn't rest just for 24 hours and go back to work. He is resting and our rest anticipates his. So I think in the interest of time we'll skip that section. Now we go to Genesis 2. There are also considerations from outside Genesis 1 which raise questions about its chronological interpretation. In Genesis 2 we are given an account of the generations of the heavens and the earth. I take this to be a superscription like everybody else. In reading the account of Genesis 2, again, one's first impression is that of a narrative in chronological order. Futado, in his article, Because It Had Rain, demonstrates this quite well. The narrative of Genesis 2, 4 to 25, flows at a steady pace, moved along by a sequence of relative verbs. The most obvious and frequent use of the va-relative is that of simple chronological succession. That is, when a va-yictal verb is used, the story usually takes an incremental step forward along a timeline. So the prima facie reading of Genesis 2, 4 to 25 is indeed chronological, prima facie. If Genesis 2, 4 to 25 is chronological, then there are problems in reconciling this passage with a chronological view of Genesis 1. You know what those problems are. Genesis 2 gives us a different order. We have the animals mentioned after the creation of man. Standardly, we've been at this a long time over against the liberals who wanted to argue two creation accounts. We rightly argue that the fact that the animals are only mentioned after the creation of man doesn't mean that they were only created after the creation of man. The author mentions them only at that point in time because that's the only time they are relevant to the message that he's trying to make. They appear in the section where he's trying to highlight the uniqueness of man, his place in the universe, and especially in the garden and whatnot. And man doesn't have a helper suitable for him. God looks upon it. He says it's not good that the man has no helper that's suitable for him. Adam is then not given a wife immediately, but is taken a tour of the zoo, and he gets to view all the beasts of the field and the birds of the sky and to call them what they are. Now, why the trip to the zoo? Well, it seems to be highlighting both for Adam himself, undoubtedly, and for those of us who are now reading that account, that there's nobody out there like Adam. I mean, it's going out of its way to shout that we are not animals. When Adam looks into the eyes of these beasts to see what they are and to call them by their names, there's nobody looking back. He is absolutely alone in the universe. And undoubtedly, the end of the day for him was not just one of exhaustion, but a deep feeling of aloneness. It brings it home to him. And that's the conclusion drawn by the writer. But there was no helper that was suitable for Adam. So God puts him to sleep and brings a woman before him. So the mention of the animals is subsequent to the creation of man because it's serving in that point in time to highlight the uniqueness of man and indeed the uniqueness of woman as both standing in the image of God. As I like to say that the animals were all made after their kinds, but man was not made after his kind. He was made after God's kind. He belongs to the order of being that includes God. There's vast differences between God and human beings, but we are of the same kind. There is an analogy between our being, there are important similarities that exist between us. Okay, well, the conclusion that I would draw there is simply that despite the appearance of chronological sequence, we know, at least by comparison with Genesis 1, assuming that to be chronological, that is not a chronological sequence. We also know that by a close examination of the text, that even apart from Genesis 1, the Hebrew wouldn't demand that it be a chronological sequence. That does not appear to be the main interest of the author, and it would therefore be foreign to the text for us to be trying to draw conclusions from it by matters that were never intended by the biblical author. There are some other features of the Genesis 2 account. which also give us pause over a chronological reading of Genesis 1. The explanations given for the barrenness of the earth, or even if you take it as a region or the garden area mentioned in Genesis 2.5, seem rather odd comments if Genesis 1 is understood as a chronological account. Verse 5 provides us with reasons for the barrenness, which are in accordance with God's normal providential ways of providing vegetation on the earth. Neither wild plants nor cultivated plants existed at the time. Why not? Because the Lord God had not sent rain upon the earth, and there was no man to cultivate the ground. These are reasons which would explain the absence of vegetation within normal providential governance. Furthermore, the remainder of the passage seems to indicate that God's remedy for this barren situation was precisely along the lines noted as the cause of the existing barrens. Verse 6 indicates that God sent And here I follow Futato, and this would be a place where I suppose both with Dr. Harris and Dr. Collins there might be a disagreement. I think probably the better translation there is rain cloud, not mist, nor subterranean waters, but rain cloud. God sent a rain cloud. There was no rain, there ought to be rain if there's going to be vegetation, so he sent rain. And I think the best argument for that is to see that that makes the best sense out of the Genesis, the Job passage, Job 36. In verse 7, God forms Adam from the dust of the ground, thus now there is man the cultivator and breathes into him the breath of life. Man becomes a living soul. Thus the two deficiencies noted as the cause of the earth's barrenness are now remedied. Klein and Futado have argued that verse 5 states a problem, then provides an explanation for it in terms of ordinary problems. The problem is barrenness of both wild shrubs and cultivated plants, the cause of the absence of rain and of man to cultivate the ground. As the verses to follow then tell us that both rain and man were supplied, it seems that ordinary providential means were employed during the creation period for accomplishing the ends in view. If so, then the account of the third day in Genesis 1 considerably abbreviates the story, for by the end of that day the earth is already filled with vegetation. Taking Genesis 1 as a normal week, Genesis 2.5 refers to the barrenness of what is Tuesday morning. with rain presumably falling by the afternoon so that before evening has come, the earth is full of vegetation. This is not ordinary problems. Now, it must be stressed that the problem identified here has nothing to do with God's power to effect the filling of the earth with vegetation within 24 hours or less. God easily could have filled the earth with vegetation in an instant. The problem under review is understanding how we are to take Genesis 1 in the light of Genesis 2. And what I'm saying is that Genesis 2 gives us reason for thinking that ordinary providence was to be the means for removing the earth's barrenness, and if so, then 24 hours is not a sufficient time to accomplish that. The narrative next moves to the garden. The Lord God planted a garden toward the east, east presumably of the land of Canaan, the perspective from which Moses writes. Into the garden the Lord God placed the man whom he had formed. This verse seems to be introductory to the following section, giving a general summary of what is to come. For in verse 15, the Lord God once again puts man into the garden. So in verse 9, we start to get the details. Out of the ground, the Lord God caused every tree to grow, etc. Here again, it looks very much like an ordinary providential event is being described. The Lord God causes the trees to grow. Apparently they were not formed in a mature state, but were caused to grow from the ground. Now again, God easily could have brought this to pass within a day or much less if he so chose. The question is, did he so choose? Or did he use the means of ordinary province? The language of the text suggests ordinary province. Now admittedly, the language of the text does not definitively settle the matter. For if Genesis 1 does teach that the creation took place within one week, this language can be reconciled with that view. But to do so demands that we reject what would be the natural reading of the narrative were we not influenced by what Genesis 1 teaches. One more thing. After Adam has been created, God then comments that it is not good for him to be alone. We've gone through all of that and so on. Adam then names all the animals after God makes this comment on. Now the text tells us that every beast of the field was brought there. Now, were these all the beasts in the land of Canaan? Were these all the beasts on the face of the earth? Or were these simply representative beasts? Well, the stronger you want to take the language as every beast, then the longer the day's got to be, because there are an awful lot of animals to be named if we're going to name every species. And of course, it is a fairly wide assumption among us all, despite our differences in other matters, that all the various kinds of animals had been created in the creation period. And if he named them all, as the natural reading of the text would suggest, that takes an awful long period of time. So once again, just the impression of the text is that of ordinary prophets. The time must have been greater than 24 hours to get the whole of the earth's animal kingdom in front of Adam to be named, if we're going to take it in that way. And, of course, we're backing off our literalism at that point in time. But I don't think in any serious way, no more so than we back off literalism when we read in Mark 1, 5 that all the country of Judea was going out to John and all the people of Jerusalem, and they were being baptized by him in the Jordan River. There's surely not one among us who would think that when Mark actually wrote that, that what was being claimed was that every man, woman, and child in Judea was baptized by John in the Jordan River. So it doesn't particularly bother me that the use of the word every is there. But again, if what we're worried about is the literal interpretation of the Bible, it would give us difficulties if we wanted to cram it into 24 hours. And frankly, I think you'd probably want to cram it into the daylight hours. I don't know how accurate the zoological taxonomy would have been in the nighttime in Adam's case. Alright, well, if ordinary providence was operating during the creation period for the process of filling the earth with vegetation, then we must revise our understanding of Genesis 1 as providing a chronological account of creation within one calendar week. Just as, for example, we must revise our understanding of Genesis 2, taken as an ordinary narrative sequence, if we take seriously the sequence and the time period of Genesis chapter 1. So, Lord, to whom shall we go? given the difficulties that exist in taking both of those texts as their first impression readings would suggest to us, at least reading it in English. I would suggest that the key to our solution is found in the Sabbath. As previously argued, God's Sabbath is most assuredly not a 24-hour day. Beginning his rest on the seventh day, that day had no end. There was no evening and morning for that day. Thus, our seventh day, we're now the first day, the Lord's day. is not identical to God's rest, but a model or an analog of it. His rest is heavenly. Our earthly rest is modeled on it, but falls short of being identical to it. While resting on the Lord's day, we are still striving to enter God's rest. Our own Sabbaths are but a taste of it. In similar fashion, our workdays are most likely models or analogs of God's workdays in creation. Our days are not identical to His. Presumably, Genesis 1 is already pointing us in that direction by speaking of day and night, evening and morning, before there was a sun. These terms cannot be used in their normal senses prior to the fourth day on the one-week chronological interpretation. Genesis 1 is describing God's work in creation, not ours, and the temporal terms employed are neither univocal nor equivocal, but analogical in nature. As for the question of sequence in Genesis 1, even if allowance is made for a time period well beyond a week, the problem noted earlier of trying to understand the effects produced by the luminaries of the fourth day, when some of these effects have already been produced on the first day, is best resolved as an instance of, as Futado called it, synopsis, resumption, and then expansion. a technique which we find in Genesis 2. If so, and the organizing principle for Genesis 1 is not strict chronology, but topic. God chose not to mention the very source of the light on day 1, saving it for topical reasons or theological reasons, until you get to day 4. And of course the standard line there is that in the first three days God has separated the realms of the earth, then he fills those realms with creatures and indeed with rulers on the final three days. So they are not mentioned first because they are all being grouped together topically along the way to make the theological point that will culminate in man as the image of God and as the ruler over the earth as God's image. The organizing principle for Genesis 1, then, would not be strict chronology but topic. This organization has been variously described as form in fullness, realms and rulers, creation's kingdoms, and creature kings. The point is not that no sequence can be found in the passage. It stands to reason that before the great creatures swarm in the sea, there must first be seas. Before the plants grow on the dry ground, there must first be dry ground. Before birds fly in the sky, there must first be a sky. That the numbered days of Genesis are ordinal numbers indicating sequence rather than cardinal numbers distinguishing one from another is a matter upon there is at least room for doubt. Despite appearances and the reasons which could be mustered to support the first impressions, it would appear that neither Genesis 1 nor Genesis 2 is to be taken as strictly sequential chronological order of events in both cases The narrative order seems to be determined by topical rather than theological interests. I think Futado argues convincingly that both passages show focused concern on the problems of supplying vegetation and cultivation by man. The first triad of days in Genesis 1 culminate in filling the earth with vegetation, while the second triad culminates in the creation of man, who is commanded to fill the earth and subdue it, also involving cultivation. That does not mean that the historicity of the events is in any way called into question. Real events are being narrated, they are just not narrated in each and every case according to the exact chronological sequence of their creation, but they are discussed according to theological interests rooted in the nature and destiny of mankind, as therefore it was not the author's primary intent to inform us of the exact sequence of the separate acts of creation. The narratives are of limited value in helping us to identify that order, but there is nothing in such an admission to make us doubtful of the historicity of the events so described. The seven-day framework for the narrative is very clearly emphasized because of its relation to the Sabbath theology of the narrative. Man, made in God's image, is to imitate God in his labor. As God planted a garden, causing trees to grow, so Adam is to cultivate and till the garden, and, moving out from there, to fill the earth and subdue it, cultivating it. Upon the completion of his work, man is to rest and be refreshed, just as God rested from his labors and was refreshed. As the weekly Sabbath is to be the earthly token of God's unending Sabbath rest, so man's six days of work are to be the earthly token or analog of God's work in creation. Because God intended his work and rest to be repeatedly imitated by his image bearers through a weekly cycle, the seven days of the week, so he ordered and revealed his own work and rest in creation according to the pattern of seven days. Mankind's six workdays has also the seventh day of rest become analogs of God's work and rest. In this way, elect mankind, destined for the eternal rest, the true and heavenly rest, would be frequently reminded of the world which is to come, of which this world is but an image. For now we see through a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Thanks be to God.