Charles Ellicott Commentary Genesis 1

THE CREATIVE WEEK (Genesis 1:1 to Genesis 2:3).

In the beginning. —This phrase refers not, as in John 1:1, to “from eternity,” but to the beginning of this sidereal system, of which our sun, with its attendant planets, forms a part. As there never was a time when God did not exist, and as activity is an essential part of His being (John 5:17), so, probably, there was never a time when worlds did not exist. And in the process of calling them into existence when and how He willed, we may well believe that God acted in accordance with the working of some universal law, of which He Himself is the author. It was natural for Saint John, when placing the same words at the commencement of his Gospel, to carry our minds back to a more absolute conceivable beginning, when the work of creation had not commenced, and when in the whole universe there was only God.

God. —Hebrew, Elohim. This is a word plural in form, but joined with a singular verb, except when it refers to the false gods of the heathen, in which case it takes a plural verb. Its root-meaning is strength, power; and the form Elohim is not to be regarded as a pluralis majestatis, but as embodying the effort of early human thought in feeling after the Deity, and in arriving at the conclusion that the Deity was One. Thus, in the name Elohim, it included in one Person all the powers, strengths, and influences by which the world was first created and is now governed and maintained.

In the Vedas, in the hymns recovered for us by the decipherment of the cuneiform inscriptions, whether Akkadian or Semitic, and in all other ancient religious poetry, we find these powers ascribed to different beings; in the Bible alone Elohim is one. Christians may also well see in this a foreshadowing of the plurality of persons in the Divine Trinity; but its primary lesson is that, however diverse the working of the powers of nature may seem, the Worker is one and His work one.

Created. —Creation, in its strict sense of producing something out of nothing, contains an idea so noble and elevated that human language could only gradually rise to it. It is quite possible, therefore, that the word bârâ, he created, may originally have signified to hew stone or fell timber; but as a matter of fact, it is a rare word, employed chiefly or entirely in connection with the activity of God. As, moreover, the heaven and the earth can only mean the totality of all existent things, the idea of creating them out of nothing is contained in the very form of the sentence. Even in Genesis 1:21 and Genesis 1:27, where the word may signify something less than creation ex nihilo, there is nevertheless a passage from inert matter to animate life, for which science knows no force, process, or energy capable of its accomplishment.

The heaven and the earth. —This is the normal phrase in the Bible for the universe (Deuteronomy 32:1; Psalms 148:13; Isaiah 1:2). To the Hebrew, this consisted of our one planet and the atmosphere surrounding it, in which he saw the sun, moon, and stars. But it is one of the more than human qualities of the language of the Holy Scriptures that, while written by men whose knowledge was in accordance with their times, it does not contradict the increased knowledge of later times. Contemporaneous with the creation of the earth was the calling into existence, not merely perhaps of our solar system, but of that sidereal universe of which we form so small a part; but naturally, in the Bible our attention is confined to that which chiefly concerns ourselves.

EXCURSUS B: ON THE NAMES ELOHIM AND JEHOVAH-ELOHIM.

Throughout the first account of creation (Genesis 1:1 to Genesis 2:3) the Deity is simply called Elohim. This word is strictly a plural of Eloah, which is used as the name of God only in poetry, or in late books like those of Nehemiah and Daniel. It is there an Aramaism, God in Syriac being Aloho, in Chaldee Ellah, and in Arabic Allahu—all of which are merely dialectic varieties of the Hebrew Eloah, and are used constantly in the singular number.

In poetry, Eloah is sometimes employed with great emphasis, as, for instance, in Psalms 18:31: “Who is Eloah except Jehovah?” But while the sister dialects thus used the singular in both poetry and prose, the Hebrews used the plural Elohim as the ordinary name of God. The difference is that to the one, God was simply power, strength (the root-meaning of Eloah); to the other, He was the union of all powers, the Almighty. The plural thus intensified the idea of the majesty and greatness of God; but besides this, it was the germ of the doctrine of a plurality of persons in the Divine unity.

In the second narrative (Genesis 2:4 to Genesis 3:24), which is an account of the fall of man, with only such introductory matter regarding creation as was necessary for making the history complete, the Deity is styled Jehovah-Elohim. The spelling of the word Jehovah is debatable, as only the consonants (J, H, V, H) are certain, the vowels being those of the word Adonai (Lord) substituted for it by the Jews when reading it in the synagogue. The first vowel is a mere apology for a sound, and pronounced a or e, according to the nature of the consonant to which it is attached.

It is generally represented now by a light breathing, thus—Y’hovah, ‘donai. Regarding the spelling, Ewald, Gesenius, and others argue for Yahveh; Fürst for Yehveh, or Yeheveh; and Stier, Meyer, etc., for Yehovah. The first has the analogy of several other proper names in its favor; the second, the authority of Exodus 3:14; the last, those numerous names like Yehoshaphat, where the word is written Yeho. At the end of proper names, the form it takes is Yahu, from which also Yah. We should also note that the first consonant is really y; but two or three centuries ago, j seems to have had the sound that we give to y now, as is still the case in German.

But this is not a matter of mere pronunciation; there is a difference of meaning as well. Yahveh signifies “He who brings into existence;” Yehveh, “He who shall be, or shall become;” what Jehovah may signify, I do not know. We must further note that the name is undoubtedly earlier than the time of Moses. At the date of the Exodus, the v of the verb had been changed into y. Thus, in Exodus 3:14, the name of God is Ehyeh, “I shall become,” not Ehveh. Had the name, therefore, come into existence in the days of Moses, it would have been Yahyeh, Yehyeh, or Yehoyah, not Yahveh, etc.

The next fact is that the union of these two names—Jehovah-Elohim—is very unusual. In this short narrative, it occurs twenty times; in the rest of the Pentateuch, only once (Exodus 9:30); in the whole remainder of the Bible, about nine times. Moreover, in Psalms 50:1, there is the reversed form, Elohim-Jehovah. There must, therefore, be some reason why in this narrative this peculiar junction of the two names is so predominant.

The usual answer is that in this section God appears in covenant with man, whereas in Genesis 1:1 to Genesis 2:3 He was the Creator—the God of nature and not of grace. He had, indeed, a closer relation to man, as being the most perfect of His creatures (Genesis 1:26), but this relation was different only in degree and not in kind.

This explanation is true but insufficient; nor does it clarify how Jehovah became the covenant name of God, and Elohim His generic title. Whatever the right answer may be, we must expect to find it in the narrative itself. The facts are so remarkable, and the connection of the name Jehovah with this section so intimate, that if Holy Scripture is to command the assent of our reason, we must expect to find the explanation of such peculiarities in the section in which they occur.

What, then, do we find? We find this: the first section gives us the history of man’s formation, with the solemn verdict that he was very good. Nature without man was simply good; with man, creation had reached its goal.

In this succeeding section, man ceases to be very good. He is represented in it as the object of his Maker’s special care and, above all, as one put under law. Inferior creatures work by instinct—that is, practically by compulsion—and in subjection to rules and forces that control them. Man, as a free agent, attains a higher rank.

He is put under law, with the power of obeying or disobeying it. God, who is infinitely high and self-contained, also works by law. However, His law comes from within, from the perfection of His own nature, and not from without, as must be the case with an imperfect being like man, whose duty is to strive for what is better and more perfect.

Furthermore, even in the first section, man was described as created in God’s image, after His likeness. But as law is essential to God’s nature—for without it He would be the author of confusion—so it is to man’s.

But as this likeness is a gift conferred upon him, and not inherent, the law must come with the gift, from outside, and not from himself; and it can come only from God. Thus, man was necessarily, by the terms of his creation, made subject to law, and without it there could have been no progress upward. But he broke the law, and fell.

Was he, then, to remain forever a fallen being, hiding himself away from his Maker, with the bonds of duty and love that formerly bound him to his Creator broken irremediably? No. God is love; and the purpose of this narrative is not so much to give us the history of man’s fall as to show that a means of restoration had been appointed.

Scarcely has the breach been made before One steps in to fill it. The breach had been caused by a subtle foe, who had beguiled our first parents in the simplicity of their innocence; but in the very hour of their condemnation, they are promised an avenger who, after a struggle, shall crush the head of their enemy (Genesis 3:15).

Now this name, Y-h-v-h, in its simplest form Yehveh, means “He shall be,” or “shall become.” With the substitution of y for v, according to a change that had taken place generally in the Hebrew language, this is the actual spelling that we find in Exodus 3:14: namely, Ehyeh ‘sher Èhyeh, “I shall be that I shall be.”

Now, in the New Testament we find that the received name for the Messiah was “the coming One” (Matthew 21:9; Matthew 23:39; Mark 11:9; Luke 7:19–20; Luke 13:35; Luke 19:38; John 1:15; John 1:27; John 3:31; John 6:14; John 11:27; John 12:13; Acts 19:4; Hebrews 10:37). And in the Revelation of St. John, the name of the Triune God is, He who is and who was, and the coming One (Revelation 1:4; Revelation 1:8; Revelation 11:17).

But St. Paul tells us of a notable change in the language of the early Christians. Their solemn formula was Maran-atha, “Our Lord is come” (1 Corinthians 16:22). The Deliverer was no longer future, no longer “He who shall become,” nor “He who shall be what He shall be.”

It is not now an indefinite hope: no longer the sighing of the creature waiting for the manifestation of Him who shall crush the head of his enemy. The faint ray of light that dawned in Genesis 3:15 has become the risen Sun of Righteousness; the Jehovah of the Old Testament has become the Jesus of the New, of whom the Church joyfully exclaims, “We praise You as God: we acknowledge You to be Jehovah.”

But from where did this name Jehovah arise? Distinctly from the words of Eve, so miserably disappointed in their primary application: I have gotten a man, even Jehovah, or Yehveh (Genesis 4:1). She, poor fallen creature, did not know the meaning of the words she uttered. However, she had believed the promise, and for her faith’s sake the spirit of prophecy rested upon her.

She gave him on whom her hopes were fixed the title that was to grow and swell onward until all inspired truth gathered round it and into it. And at length Elohim, the Almighty, set His seal to it by calling Himself I shall be that I shall be (Exodus 3:14).

Eve’s word is simply the third person of the verb of which Ehyeh is the first, and the correct translation of her speech is, “I have gotten a man, even he that shall be,” or “the future one.” But when God called Himself by this appellation, the word, so indefinite in her mouth, became the personal name of Israel’s covenant God.

Thus, in this title of the Deity, formed from the verb of existence in what is known as the future or indefinite tense, we have the symbol of that onward longing look for the return of the golden age, or age of paradise. This is described elsewhere in the Bible as the reign of the Branch that shall grow out of Jesse’s root (Isaiah 11:4–9).

The hope was at first dim, distant, and indistinct, but it was the foundation of all that was to follow. Prophets and psalmists were to tend and foster that hope, and make it clear and definite. But the germ of all their teaching was contained in that mystic four-lettered word, the tetragrammaton, Y-h-v-h.

The name may have been popularly called Yahveh—though of this we have no proof; the Jews certainly understood by it Yehveh—“the coming One.” After all, these vowels are not as important as the fact that the name has the pre-formative yod.

The force of this letter prefixed to the root form of a Hebrew verb is to give it a future or indefinite sense. And I can find nothing whatsoever to justify the Assertion that Jehovah—to adopt the ordinary spelling—means “the existent One,” and still less to attach to it a causal force and explain it as signifying “He who calls into being.”

Finally, the pre-Mosaic form of the name is most instructive, as showing that the expectation of the Messiah was older than the time of the Exodus. The name is really man’s answer to, and acceptance of, the promise made to him in Genesis 3:15. Why should not Eve, to whom the assurance was given, be the first to profess her faith in it?

But in this section, in which the name occurs twenty times in the course of forty-six verses, there is a far deeper truth than Eve supposed. Jehovah (Yehveh) is simply “the coming One,” and Eve probably attached no very definite idea to the words she was led to use.

But here He is called Jehovah-Elohim, and the double name teaches us that the coming One, the future deliverer, is God, the very Elohim who at first created man. The unity, therefore, and connection between these two narratives is of the closest kind: and the prefixing in this second section of Jehovah to Elohim, the Creator’s name in the first section, was the laying of the foundation stone for the doctrine that man’s promised Savior, though the woman’s seed, was an Emmanuel, God as well as man.

And the earth. —The conjunction “and” negates the well-intentioned attempt to harmonize geology and Scripture by taking Genesis 1:1 as a mere heading; the two verses go together and form a general summary of creation, which is afterward divided into its several stages.

The word “was” is not the copula here, but the substantive verb existed, and it expresses duration. After creation, the earth existed as a shapeless and empty waste.

Without form, and void. —Literally, tohu and bohu, which words are both substantives and signify wasteness and emptiness. The similarity of their forms, joined with the harshness of their sound, made them pass almost into a proverb for everything that was dreary and desolate (Isaiah 34:11; Jeremiah 4:23). It expresses here the state of primeval matter immediately after creation, when there was not yet any cohesion between the separate particles.

Darkness. —As light is the result either of the condensation of matter or of vibrations caused by chemical action, this exactly agrees with the previous representation of the chaos from which the earth was to be shaped. It then existed only as an incoherent waste of emptiness.

The deep. —Tĕhôm. This word, from a root signifying confusion or disturbance, is poetically applied to the ocean, as in Psalm 42:7, from the restless motion of its waves, but is used here to describe the chaos as a surging mass of shapeless matter. In the Babylonian legend, Tiàmat, the Hebrew tĕhôm, is represented as overcome by Merodach, who out of the primeval anarchy brings order and beauty (Sayce, Chaldean Genesis, pp. 59, 109, 113).

The Spirit of God. —Hebrew, a wind of God, that is, a mighty wind, as rendered by the Targum and most Jewish interpreters (see Note on Genesis 23:6). So the wind of Jehovah makes the grass wither (Isaiah 40:7); and so God makes the winds His messengers (Psalms 104:4).

The argument that no wind then existed because the atmosphere had not been created is baseless, for if water existed, so did air. But this unseen material force, wind (John 3:8), has always suggested to the human mind the thought of the Divine agency, which, equally unseen, is even mightier in its working. When, then, creation is ascribed to the wind (Job 26:13; Psalms 104:30), we justly see not the mere instrumental force employed, but rather that Divine operative energy which resides especially in the Third Person of the Holy Trinity.

But we must be on our guard against the common error of commentators, who read into the text of these most ancient documents perfect doctrines which were not revealed in their fullness until the Gospel was given. It is a marvelous fact that Genesis does contain the germ of almost every evangelical truth, but it contains it in a suggestive and not a completed form. So here this mighty energizing wind suggests to us the thought of the Holy Ghost, and is far more eloquent in its original simplicity than when we read into it a doctrine not made known until revelation was perfected in Christ (John 7:39).

Moved. —Hebrew, fluttered lovingly . This word also would lead the mind to the thought of the agency of a Person. In Syriac, the verb is a very common one for the incubation of birds; and, alluding to this passage, it is metaphorically employed for both the waving of the priest’s hand over the cup when consecrating the wine for the Eucharist, and that of the patriarch over a bishop’s head at his consecration. Two points must here be noticed:

1. The first, that the motion was not self-originated, but was external to the chaos;
2. The second, that it was a gentle and loving energy, which tenderly and gradually, with fostering care, called forth the latent possibilities of a nascent world.

THE CREATIVE DAYS.

And God said. —There could be no voice or sound, nor was there anyone to whom God addressed this word of power. The phrase, therefore, is metaphorical and means that God enacted a law for the universe; and we find the command similarly given ten times. The beauty and sublimity of the language used here have often been noticed: God makes no preparation; He employs no means and needs no secondary agency. He speaks, and it is done. His word alone contains all things necessary for the fulfillment of His will.

So, in related languages, the word Emir, meaning ruler, is literally, speaker. The Supreme One speaks: for the rest, to hear is to obey. God, therefore, by speaking, gives nature a universal and enduring law. His commands are not temporary but eternal; and whatever secondary causes were called into existence when the Elohim, by a word, created light, those same causes produce it now and will produce it until God recalls His word. We have, therefore, nature’s first universal law here. What is it?

Let there be light: and there was light. —The sublimity of the original is lost in our language by the cumbersome multiplication of particles. The Hebrew is Yhi ôr wayhi ôr. Light is not itself a substance but a condition or state of matter; and this primeval light was probably electric, arising from the condensation and friction of the elements as they began to arrange themselves in order.

And this, in turn, was due to what is commonly called the law of gravitation, or the attraction of matter. If on the first day electricity and magnetism were generated, and the laws that create and control them were given, we have in them the two most powerful and active energies of the present and of all time—or possibly two forms of one and the same busy and restless force. And the law thus given was that of gravitation, of which light was the immediate result.

And God saw. — This contemplation indicates, first, a lapse of time; and second, that the judgment pronounced was the verdict of Divine reason.

That it was good. — As light was a necessary result of motion in the world-mass, so it was indispensable for all that was to follow, since neither vegetable nor animal life can exist without it. But the repeated approval by the Deity of each part and portion of this material universe also condemns all Manichaean theories, and asserts that this world is a noble home for humanity, and life a blessing, despite its solemn responsibilities.

And God divided ... — The first three creative days are all days of order and distribution, and have been called “the three separations.” But while on the first two days no new thing was created, but only the chaotic matter arranged, on the third day there was the introduction of vegetable life.

The division on the first day does not imply that darkness has a separate and independent existence, but that there were now periods of light and darkness. Thus, by the end of the first day, our earth must have advanced far on its way toward its present state (See Note, Genesis 1:5). It is, however, even more probable that the ultimate results of each creative word are summed up in the account given of it.

No sooner did motion begin than the separation of the air and water from the denser particles must have also begun. The immediate result was light; after a greater interval followed the formation of an open space around the contracting earth-ball; still more remotely came the formation of continents and oceans; but the separations must have commenced as soon as the “wind of Elohim” began to brood upon and move the chaotic mass.

How far these separations had advanced before there were recurrent periods of light and darkness is outside the scope of the Divine narrative, which is not geological but religious.