With the first division of Day and Night through the creation of light, God has dealt with the first of the three obstacles: darkness. There are two more uncreated threats that He will deal with in turn: the desolate emptiness and wilderness (tohu vavohu) on the earth, and the depths (tehom) of the water, which overwhelm any potential for life.
Day Two
“And God said, “Let there be a vaulted dome in the midst of the waters, and let it cause a separation between the waters.” So God made the vaulted dome, and he caused a separation between the waters which were under the vaulted dome and between the waters which were over the vaulted dome. And it was so. And God called the vaulted dome “heaven.” And there was evening, and there was morning, a second day.”
Again, you may notice that this is quite different indeed from my modern mock-creation in the first post! If I had to limit creation down to the six most important things, this “dome” certainly wouldn’t make the list! Yet to ancient Israelite narrator, this is a vital step. God chops the water-world in half, lifting up a vast shield to separate the waters above from the waters below.
If you are anything like me, you may be trying to imagine a nebulous cloud-like beam that is closer to an atmosphere or Saturn’s rings than anything solid. Over time I have learned to let that go, as it is an attempt to harmonize a modern image with this older image. Several cultures from the Ancient Near East (ANE), Israel included, describe a rock-hard transparent barrier between the heavens and the earth, that is, the skies and the land. A “raqia” in Hebrew, or a “firmament” if KJV is more your style. The composition of that hard barrier, however, varied from culture to culture. Let’s go to the library!
The Solid Sky Dome in Israel’s Neighbors’ Stories
I have enjoyed perusing James B. Pritchard’s anthology of ANE texts (with pictures!) to view some different accounts. There you can view a vignette drawn in the margins of the Egyptian Book of the Dead, depicting the sky-god Nut, arching over the entire world. To ancient Egyptians, she was the sky.
In the same anthology, you may (if it is to your fancy) flip over to the Enuma Elish, the Babylonian creation story. Content warning, not for children! You will read there, that in the beginning there was water—fresh water (Apsu) and the dangerous depths (Tiamat). These personified waters “mingled,” and had children, but soon decided they were a nuisance and planned to off them. The children overhear these treacherous plans and preemptively kill Apsu. At this, Tiamat grows enraged and tyrannical, and creates a whole host of terrifying sea-beasts, whom nobody can defy. Nobody except for her unlikely grandson, the formidable Marduk.
Marduk is undaunted by Tiamat’s power. He mounts his storm-cloud chariot, a blazing flame in his heart, and a bow in his hand. “They strove in single combat, locked in battle. […] When Tiamat opened her mouth to consume him, / he drove in the Evil Wind that she close not her lips. […] He released the arrow, it tore her belly, / It cut through her insides, splitting the heart.” With the mighty Tiamat slain, Marduk splits her carcass in half: “Then the lord paused to view her dead body, / that he might divide the monster and do artful works. He split her like a shellfish into two parts: / Half of her he set up and ceiled it as the sky, / pulled down the bar and posted guards. / He bade them not to allow the waters to escape” (Pritchard, 32). Thus began Babylon.
I know that’s a stomach turner. I’m sorry. I really am. Still, I think it’s an important text. This creation story was written before the Genesis account, and it bears some fascinating similarities and contrasts.
Their story also had a cosmos of un-created, pre-existent, deep waters.
Their story, too, speaks of a god splitting the seas to make a dry land in between.
And finally, their story also has a sky-dome separating the heavens from the earth.
The differences are equally apparent. The first gods to exist in Babylon’s account are slain by their own children. This is a violent origin, full of struggle. The waters in this story are gods, unlike the waters of Genesis. God is without rival and without violence in the Biblical account of creation. He will judge the earth later, but it begins in peace.
Though this dome may be untenable from modern observational science, I’ve always found the Hebrew cosmology intuitive from a common-sense perspective. What child hasn’t lain down on the grass on a summer day, looked up at the crystal blue sky, and imagined a splendid and towering wave of water held at bay? (Actually I don’t know if this is a common experience, but it was my own, and a rather sublime one at that!) It’s understandable, and even rational, that an ancient culture would associate the skies above with the seas below. It’s blue and water falls out of it from time to time.
Another personal experience that comes to mind is going to the Mall of America as a child. Deep down in the lower levels of the massive mall, there lies a magical place called Underwater World. One moment you step onto a conveyer belt and the next, you are immersed in an aquatic realm, full of sharks and sting rays and coral and jellyfish. The only thing keeping you alive is a thick transparent barrier overhead. Within the barrier, you may breathe, laugh, and point at all of the funny looking fish. This is a modern microcosm of the whole cosmos in Ancient Israel.
Despite our modern objections, Day Two is a vital part of the story: God is shaping the “formless and empty” water-world into something with potential to be formed and filled. Just as Day One brought the function of time, Day Two brings about the function of life-sustaining weather. Never too much water—just enough.
Tune in next time for Day Three!
P.S. Have you ever noticed this is the only day in Genesis 1 where God does not see that it is “good”? I’ll just let you chew on that one for now!