Reading Genesis

Scholars of the ancient world use the phrase “primeval history” to describe a recognized literary category in ancient Near Eastern writing — texts that address ultimate questions about the origin of the world, the nature of humanity, and the relationship between God (or the gods) and creation. Genesis 1–11 belongs to this category. It covers Genesis 1 (the creation of the world), Genesis 2–3 (the Garden of Eden and the Fall), Genesis 4 (Cain and Abel), Genesis 5 (the antediluvian genealogies), Genesis 6–9 (the great flood), and Genesis 10–11 (the Table of Nations and the Tower of Babel).

Identifying this literary category is not a concession to scepticism — it is the first step in reading the text as the Church has always insisted it must be read: on its own terms, in its own historical and literary context, with attention to what the sacred author actually intended to communicate.

Genesis 1 is one of the most carefully structured pieces of writing in the entire Bible. Its seven-day framework — six days of creative work followed by one day of divine rest — is not a haphazard narrative but a deliberately crafted literary and theological composition. Recognizing its structure is essential to reading it correctly.

This parallel structure — sometimes called the “framework hypothesis” by modern biblical scholars — is an ancient observation, not a modern invention. The text’s artistry conveys theology: God is orderly, purposeful, and sovereign; creation progresses toward humanity as its crown; the Sabbath is built into the very structure of existence.

The refrain “And there was evening and there was morning, the Nth day” is a liturgical formula — an artistic punctuation of the narrative that signals the completion of each creative movement. Whether “evening and morning” denotes a literal 24-hour cycle or serves as a structural marker has been debated by Catholic interpreters since at least the fourth century.

Far from leaving Catholics to guess how to read Genesis, the Church’s magisterium has issued a series of authoritative documents that provide clear hermeneutical principles. Taken together, they constitute a consistent and coherent approach to the literary interpretation of the creation narratives.

The Pontifical Biblical Commission’s landmark 1993 document, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, provides the most comprehensive modern survey of approved exegetical methods. It affirms that identifying the literary genre of a biblical text is not optional — it is essential for understanding what the inspired author actually intended to communicate.

Sixteen hundred years ago, one of the greatest theologians in the history of the Church issued a warning that reads as though it were written for our own time. St. Augustine of Hippo, who devoted more intellectual energy to the interpretation of Genesis than to almost any other book of Scripture, warned his fellow Christians against the dangers of over-literal, over-confident readings of the creation narrative.

Augustine himself wrote four separate attempts at a commentary on Genesis, finding the text extraordinarily difficult and repeatedly revising his views. His magnum opus on the subject, De Genesi ad Litteram (“On the Literal Meaning of Genesis”), took him fifteen years to complete — and even then he expressed significant uncertainty about many of its interpretations.

Augustine’s approach establishes a principle the Church has never abandoned: the interpretation of Genesis must be guided by intellectual honesty, theological seriousness, and willingness to hold open questions with appropriate humility. He is not a “liberal” interpreter undermining Scripture — he is one of the most orthodox theologians in Catholic history, insisting that the truth of Scripture be defended by reading it correctly.