The Two Creation Stories of Genesis, Part 2: YHWH Creates In His Own Unique Way
by Richard W. Coffen | 29 August 2024 |
The first creation story has marks of a poetic structure. The literary genre of the second Hebrew creation story is narrative prose.
Like the first, it is an etiology—that is, an explanation of origins. But this isn’t the spare and structured account of Genesis one. This is a rather more elaborate story about firsts.
Meet the (other) creator
The creator here is also an Elohim—a deity—but this one is specifically identified by the name YHWH. (YHWH is often written by the Jews without the vowels in order to preserve the sanctity of the name; Christians sometimes write it as Yahweh.) YHWH is a proper name that expands on Yah, an early Canaanite form of the Hebrew deity. The two words, Elohim and Yahweh, appear here together, which is why some Bibles translate them “Lord God.”
In Egypt there was Iah, typically associated with the moon. While we can’t be sure there’s a relationship, vestiges of moon worship do appear in Hebrew religious practice. The new moon was celebrated as the beginning of each month (1 Samuel 20:5,18,24; Ezekiel 46:1,6). In the restored community, they’d again celebrate new moons (Isaiah 66:23).
Three different inscriptions from the ninth or eighth century have been found at Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, a remote Hebrew site. These inscriptions speak about YHWH and his Asherah. Asherah was a consort of El, which suggests someone thought that YHWH had a wife! Archaeologists have found similar inscriptions in Samaria, Jerusalem, Teman, and southern Judah.
Does this sound too anthropomorphic? Yet YHWH often appears in the Old Testament in human terms. He repents—a lot! He descends to investigate. He engages in conversations. He changes his mind. And he commands some truly horrific massacres in his name.
Setting and action
This desert background is not the watery chaos of the first Hebrew creation story. It is a desert. Elohim YHWH addresses the aridity by creating several rivers (2:10-14). But unlike Genesis 1, there’s no rigid timetable here, no daily endeavor capstoned by a Sabbath to rest up.
According to this account, YHWH muddied and bloodied his hands while creating. Strong verbs are used here. Among his creation activities, YHWH,
- forms (2:7),
- breathes (2:7),
- plants (2:8),
- places (2:8),
- takes (2:15,21,22),
- commands (2:16),
- fashions (2:18),
- brings (2:19,22),
- causes (2:21),
- closes up/sutures (2:21),
- builds (2:22),
- calls (3:9),
- multiplies (3:10),
- commands (3:17),
- tailors (3:21),
- sends (3:23),
- aggressively expels (3:24), and
- sets in place (3:24).
Elohim YHWH transforms part of the desert into an oasis—a garden—even planting fruit trees. Elohim YHWH molds or sculpts the male human. (Hebrew has the definite article for adam; this is not a proper name—see Genesis 5:2). Then he does the grimy work of potter (verse 7). Muddying his lips, he exhales into the lifeless form, which becomes a living being. Elohim YHWH transports this adam, dropping him into the previously planted oasis.
But wait—this isn’t good!
In the first creation story, the result of every creative act is “good” and ultimately “very good.” But surveying his handiwork in this story, Elohim YHWH exclaims “Not good!” (2:18). The newly-molded-now-conscious male human is solitary.
Elohim YHWH sets about to remedy the “not good” situation. YHWH has apparently already created various female fauna (2:22) but not a female Homo sapiens (2:19).
Elohim YHWH leads each animal to the male human to be named (2:20). Some rabbis said that the human male tried to have sex with each female animal, but failed to find any satisfying; others just say that he found himself not attracted to any of them. Trial and error.
So Elohim YHWH replicates the process used to form the first male. Here he surgically removes part of the male’s anatomy to form a mate for his adam.
(The idea that men have one fewer rib than women is a myth. Barring genetic abnormalities, every person of both sexes has the same number of ribs.)
Because the usual Hebrew word rendered “rib” isn’t used here, a few scholars have proposed that this folksy etiology refers to YHWH’s construction of the woman from the man’s penis bone (baculum), which most mammals have but human males don’t. This theory is controversial. However, it provides an etiology for why human males don’t have a baculum, which most male mammals do.
In any case, Elohim YHWH “builds” (yes, that’s the verb!) a female human and leads her to the male human, who expresses his pent up frustration with an exasperated “finally!” (Hebrew, “at last” 2:23). Then, bursting into a Valentine’s Day jingle, the male human welcomes the female human. The humans remain as naked as campers in a nudist colony. Nevertheless, they’re “not ashamed” (2:25).
Sorry, John Milton: the narrative says nothing about robes of light.
The snake
Something strange happens at a tree whose fruit Elohim YHWH had told the male human (the female human didn’t yet exist when this command was given) was forbidden (2:17): the woman engages in a conversation with a talking reptile!
The text specifies a snake which, as far as we know, was constructed by Elohim YHWH. Straight from the Lord God’s hands, it has the brain capacity to be more cunning than any other living creature (3:1).
There’s no indication here that Elohim YHWH made this creature with an evil nature. Most of the time when the Hebrew word for crafty (arum) appears in Scripture, it’s a positive trait, meaning wise or prudent. Here, apparently, a good characteristic turns evil. (Irenaeus opined that the devil couldn’t create anything good but could twist something good into evil.) In any case, the snake has the mental and anatomical mechanisms necessary for speech. Though we have always assumed it, there is no mention in this passage that the snake is a ventriloquist’s dummy for Satan.
Nowhere does the text indicate this serpent is entwined in the tree. Nor is there any indication that it can fly or climb. Later, Elohim YHWH modifies its locomotion to slithering (3:14), but the text doesn’t say what its original mode of locomotion was. Nor does it say that the sharp-witted snake has eaten some of the fruit, which produced his ability to talk. Although the serpent isn’t said to be more intelligent than the first humans, it can communicate with the woman—point and counterpoint (3:1ff).
The story doesn’t say how the woman ends up with a piece of the taboo fruit. It doesn’t say say that the talkative snake picks fruit and hands it to her. In any case, she suffers no ill effects from handling, which apparently was not taboo. It only says that she sees the fruits desirability and eats some.
The story doesn’t specify the type of fruit; the word is simply peri which means fruit. Scholars have suggested various species, notably the quince, Some old pictures appear to show it as a mushroom which, of course, excites modern psilocybin fans.
Notice that the woman doesn’t remain alone while talking with the serpent. The man is there “with her” (3:6). The chatty woman carries on the conversation and hands some of the prohibited fruit to the adam, as he is apparently standing by her, mute.
Here comes the Lord God!
Elohim YHWH arrives, calling for the man (verses 8-9). This is the first of his recons in Genesis (See also 11:5; 18:21; cf. 46:4.) The couple are hiding among the trees. Ziony Zevit suggests that the two hid among the foliage (which, interestingly, has long been an artist’s trick to show the pair naked without the viewers seeing them naked.)
Elohim YHWH begins interrogating them. The male blames both his wife and Elohim YHWH (3:12). Under cross examination, she accuses the snake (verse 13). The previously talkative reptile now remains speechless (3:14).
A view that you’ll read from time to time is that eating the forbidden fruit was a metaphor for their discovering sex. It has been said that the snake is a phallic symbol, fruit is a symbol of fertility, and this explains why they suddenly become ashamed of their nakedness. Later in this second story reproduction almost seems like a punishment for sin (3:16) rather than the opportunity it is in the first story.
From animal pelts YHWH tailors clothing for the naked couple (3:21). The narrative doesn’t specify the source of the pelts, but it implies that some creature had to die.
The second Hebrew creation story doesn’t mention any initial imago dei either. The image of God becomes an issue after the Fall. The couple are now all-wise (omniscient) like YHWH (3:22). “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” Imago dei, it might be inferred, can be an evil state in that situation.
Emphasis isn’t on what vanished (à la Milton) but on what was added: ecological irrigation, secure sanctuary, flourishing flora, prolific produce, fecund fauna, merry marriage, tailormade togs, exhausting manual labor for the male, painful labor while birthing for the female, ominous omniscience, and impending immortality.
Eviction
The grammar of the narrative specifies gender. Elohim YHWH addresses each person separately, the storyline distinguishing between genders (verses 9 & 11 [masculine], verses 12,13 [feminine]).
Yet the story says that after this event, Elohim YHWH expels the male (verse 23). The verb is singular masculine, using the male form to denote who YHWH ejects. When the male human resists, Elohim YHWH “drives” (Hebrew: expel with force) him (masculine) out (verse 24) and stations armed guards (Hebrew plural cherubim) to secure the entrance to the oasis (verse 24) from intruders.
Scripture says nothing about the female’s expulsion. She appears later, postpartum. Assuming her newborn son is the promised deliverer, she names him “A boy, YHWH” (4:1, adapted from Rotherham Bible).
A different story
In the first essay I asserted that there are two separate stories here. There are significant differences between the Genesis 1 story and that told in chapters 2 and 3.
First, each is set against a different backdrop. Genesis 1 is a water world “without form and void,” while Genesis 2 is a desert world, where “no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant.”
Second, the creator is different. The Elohim is now Elohim YHWH—“Lord” becomes “Lord God.” Both names have roots in the names of local pagan deities, but the latter is to become more specific to Israel.
Third, event order varies. The Sabbath—in fact, the entire timeline—is absent in the second narrative. While the first is an ordered database of days and creations, in the second God first makes a garden in the desert. At unspecified times, he adds rivers, then creates the male adam, then all the animals, and finally a helper for the male.
Fourth, the creator’s modus operandi differs. The verbiage, all describing the activity of the creator, is more specific and personal in the second: a list of earth’s “firsts.”
To summarize: the story we’re told in Sabbath School is a result of the merging of the two stories as if Genesis 1-3 are all the same story. This combined story ignores the conflicts between the first and second tellings.
A lesson? A careful reading shows that what’s happening in these two stories isn’t a scientific description of creation, but two separate theological lessons about the meaning of our origins.
Richard W. Coffen is a retired vice president of editorial services at Review and Herald Publishing Association. He writes from Green Valley, Arizona.
