Albert Barnes Commentary Genesis 1:2

"And the earth was waste and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep: and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" — Genesis 1:2 (ASV)

היה hāyah — “to be.” It should be noted, however, that the word has three meanings, two of which now hardly belong to our English “to be.”

1. “To be, as an event, start into being, begin to be, come to pass.” This may be understood of a thing beginning to be, אור יהי y^ehiy 'ôr, “be light” (Genesis 1:3); or of an event taking place, ימים מקץ ויהי vay^ehı̂y mı̂qēts yāmı̂ym, “and it came to pass from the end of days.”
2. “To be,” as a change of state, “to become.” This is applied to what had a previous existence but undergoes some change in its properties or relations; as מלח גציב ותהי vatehı̂y n^etsı̂yb melach, “and she became a pillar of salt” (Genesis 19:26).
3. “To be,” as a state. This is the ultimate meaning to which the verb tends in all languages. In all its meanings, especially in the first and second, the Hebrew speaker presumes an onlooker, to whom the object in question appears to be coming into being, becoming, or being, as the case may be. Therefore, it means to be manifestly, so that eyewitnesses may observe the signs of existence.

ובהוּ תהוּ tohû vābohû, “a waste and a void.” The two terms denote related ideas, and their combination marks emphasis. Besides the present passage, בהוּ bohû occurs in only two others (Isaiah 34:11; Jeremiah 4:23), and always in conjunction with תהוּ tohû. If we may distinguish the two words, בהוּ bohû refers to the matter, and תהוּ tohû refers to the form. Therefore, the phrase combining the two denotes a state of utter confusion and desolation, an absence of all that can furnish or people the land.

השׁך choshek — “darkness, the absence of light.”

פגים pānı̂ym — “face, surface.” פנה panah — “face, look, turn toward.”

תהום t^ehôm — “roaring deep, billow.” הוּם hûm — “hum, roar, fret.”

רוּח rûach — “breath, wind, soul, spirit.”

רחף rāchaph — “to be soft, tremble.” Piel, “to brood, flutter.”

והארץ v^ehā'ārets — “and the earth.” Here the conjunction attaches the noun, and not the verb, to the preceding statement. This is therefore a connection of objects in space, and not of events in time. The present sentence, accordingly, may not be closely connected in point of time with the preceding one. To indicate a sequence in time, the conjunction would have been prefixed to the verb in the form ותהי vat^ehı̂y — “then was.”

ארץ 'erets means not only “earth,” but “country, land,” a portion of the earth’s surface defined by natural, national, or civil boundaries; as, “the land of Egypt,” “thy land” (Exodus 23:9–10).

Before proceeding to translate this verse, it should be noted that the state of an event may be described either definitely or indefinitely. It is described definitely by the three states of the Hebrew verb: the perfect, the current, and the imperfect. The latter two can be commonly designated as the imperfect state.

A completed event is expressed by the first of these states (the perfect), or, as they are commonly called, tenses of the Hebrew verb. A current event is expressed by the imperfect participle, and an incipient event by the second state or tense (the current). An event is described indefinitely when there is neither verb nor participle in the sentence to determine its state. The first sentence of this verse is an example of the perfect state of an event, the second of the indefinite, and the third of the imperfect or continuous state.

After an undefined lapse of time from the first grand act of creation, the present verse describes the state of things on the land immediately preceding the creation of a new system of vegetable and animal life, and, in particular, of man, the intelligent inhabitant, for whom this beautiful scene was now to be prepared and replenished.

Here “the earth” is put first in the order of words and therefore, according to the genius of the Hebrew language, set forth prominently as the subject of the sentence. From this, we conclude that the subsequent narrative refers to the land, with the skies from this time forward coming in only incidentally, as they bear upon its history.

We are to remember that the disorder and desolation are limited in their range to the land and do not extend to the skies. The scene of the creation now remaining to be described is confined to the land and its overlying matter in point of space, and to its present geological condition in point of time.

Furthermore, we must remember that “the land” among the antediluvians, and for a long time after Moses, meant as much of the surface of our globe as was known by observation, along with an unknown and undetermined region beyond. Observation was not then so extensive as to enable people to ascertain its spherical form or even the curvature of its surface. To them, it appeared merely as an irregular surface bounded by the horizon.

Therefore, it seems that, as far as the current significance of this leading term is concerned, the scene of the six days’ creation cannot, based on scriptural authority alone, be affirmed to have extended beyond the surface known to man. Nothing can be inferred from the mere words of Scripture concerning America, Australia, the islands of the Pacific, or even the remote parts of Asia, Africa, or Europe, that were still unexplored by humankind. We are exceeding the warrant of the sacred narrative, on a flight of imagination, whenever we advance a single step beyond the sensible limits of the language usage of the day in which it was written.

Along with the sky and its conspicuous objects, the land then known to primeval man formed the sum total of the observable universe. He was as capable, with his limited information, as we are with our more extensive but still limited knowledge, of expressing totality using a periphrasis consisting of two terms that have not even yet arrived at their full range of meaning. It was not the object or the effect of divine revelation to anticipate science on these points.

Passing now from the subject to the verb in this sentence, we observe it is in the perfect state. It therefore denotes that the condition of confusion and emptiness was not in progress but had run its course and become a settled thing, at least at the time of the next recorded event. If the verb had been absent in Hebrew, the sentence would have been still complete, and the meaning as follows: “And the land was waste and void.” With the verb present, therefore, it must denote something more.

The verb היה hāyâh, “to be,” has here, we understand, the meaning “to become.” The meaning of the sentence is this: “And the land had become waste and void.” This offers the presumption that the part of the surface of our globe which fell within the awareness of primeval man, and first received the name of land, may not have always been a scene of desolation or a sea of turbid waters, but may have met with some catastrophe by which its order and fruitfulness had been marred or prevented.

This sentence, therefore, does not necessarily describe the state of the land when first created but merely indicates a change that may have taken place since it was called into existence. What its previous condition was, or what interval of time elapsed between the absolute creation and the present state of things, is not revealed. How many transformations it may have undergone, and what purpose it may have previously served, are questions that did not essentially concern the moral well-being of man and are therefore to be directed to an interpreter of nature other than the written word.

This state of things is finished in relation to the event about to be described. Therefore, the settled condition of the land, expressed by the predicates “a waste and a void,” is in studied contrast with the order and fullness which are about to be introduced. The present verse is therefore to be regarded as a statement of the needs that have to be supplied to render the land a region of beauty and life.

The second clause of the verse points out another striking characteristic of the scene: “And darkness was upon the face of the deep.” Here again, the conjunction is connected with the noun. The time is the indefinite past, and the circumstance recorded is merely added to what is contained in the previous clause. The darkness, therefore, is connected with the disorder and solitude which then prevailed on the land. It forms a part of the physical derangement which had taken place on this part, at least, of the surface of our globe.

It should also be noted that the darkness is described as being on the face of the deep. Nothing is said about any other region throughout the extent of existing things. The presumption is, as far as this clause indicates, that it is a local darkness confined to the face of the deep. And the clause itself stands between two others which refer to the land, and not to any other part of occupied space. It cannot therefore be intended to describe anything beyond this definite region.

The deep, the roaring abyss, is another feature in the pre-Adamic scene. It is not now a region of land and water, but a chaotic mass of turbid waters, floating over, perhaps, and partly laden with, the ruins of a past order of things; in any case, not at present possessing the order of vegetable and animal life.

The last clause introduces a new and unexpected element into the scene of desolation. The sentence is, as previously, connected to the preceding one by the noun or subject. This still indicates a conjunction of things, and not a series of events. The phrase אלהים רוּח rûach 'ĕlohı̂ym means “the spirit of God,” as it is elsewhere uniformly applied to spirit, and as רחף rı̂chēp — “brooded,” does not describe the action of wind. The verbal form employed is the imperfect participle and therefore denotes a work actually in progress. The brooding of the Spirit of God is evidently the originating cause of the reorganization of things on the land, by the creative work which is successively described in the following passage.

It is indicated here that God is a spirit. For “the spirit of God” is equivalent to “God who is a spirit.” This is that essential characteristic of the Everlasting which makes creation possible. Many philosophers, ancient and modern, have felt the difficulty of proceeding from the one to the many; in other words, of evolving the actual multiplicity of things out of the absolutely one. And no wonder! For the absolutely one, the pure monad that has no internal relation, no complexity of quality or faculty, is barren and must remain alone.

It is, in fact, nothing; not merely no “thing,” but absolutely nothing. The simplest possible existent must have being, and a subject to which this being belongs, and, moreover, some specific or definite character by which it is what it is. This character seldom consists of one quality; usually, if not universally, of more than one. Therefore, in the Eternal One, there can be and must be that character which is the concentration of all the causative antecedents of a universe of things.

The first of these is will. Without free choice, there can be no beginning of things. Therefore, matter cannot be a creator. But will needs—cannot be without—wisdom to plan and power to execute what is willed. These are the three essential attributes of spirit. The manifold wisdom of the Eternal Spirit, combined with His equally manifold power, is adequate to the creation of a manifold system of things. Let the free command be given, and the universe starts into being.

It would be rash and out of place to speculate on the nature of the brooding here mentioned beyond how it is explained by the event. We could not see any use of a mere wind blowing over the water, as it would produce none of the subsequent effects. At the same time, we can imagine the Spirit of God manifesting its energy in some outward effect, which may bear a reasonable analogy to the natural figure by which it is represented. Chemical forces, as the prime agents, are not to be thought of here, as they are totally inadequate to the production of the results in question.

Nothing but a creative or absolutely initiating power could give rise to a change so great and fundamental as the construction of an Adamic abode out of the luminous, aerial, aqueous, and terrestrial materials of the preexistent earth, and the production of the new vegetable and animal species with which it was now to be replenished.

This is the indication that we gather from the text when it declares that “the spirit of God was brooding upon the face of the waters.” It means something more than the ordinary power exerted by the Great Being for the natural sustenance and development of the universe which He has called into existence. It indicates a new and special display of omnipotence for the current needs of this part of the realm of creation.

Such an occasional, and, for all we know, perhaps ordinary, though supernatural, intervention is entirely in harmony with the perfect freedom of the Most High in the changing conditions of a particular region, while the absolute impossibility of its occurrence would be completely contrary to this essential attribute of a spiritual nature.

In addition to this, we cannot see how a universe of moral beings can be governed on any other principle. On the other hand, the principle itself is perfectly compatible with the administration of the whole according to a predetermined plan and does not involve any vacillation of purpose on the part of the Great Designer.

We observe, also, that this creative power is exerted on the face of the waters and is therefore confined to the land mentioned in the previous part of the verse and its overlying atmosphere.

Thus, this primeval document proceeds, in an orderly way, to portray to us in a single verse the state of the land before its being prepared anew as a suitable dwelling-place for man.