BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 93
March, 1997
Copyright 1997 Biblical Horizons
One of the advantages of paying very close attention to the details in the Bible, especially chronological and genealogical details, is that they can shed light on situations that don’t seem to make much sense apart from them. One such situation is that of Bathsheba.
It appears that Bathsheba willingly cooperated with David in adultery. There is nothing to indicate that she cried out, or rejected him in any way (2 Samuel 11:4). Are we authorized, however, to expect the Bible to record such a protest if she made it?
As we read the story, we find that Uriah protests when David tries to get him to go home to his wife (2 Samuel 11:11). Uriah’s protests serve to highlight David’s sin, his sin of not going out to fight as a king was supposed to do (11:1). If David had been with the Ark in the field, he also would have been under conditions of holiness that would have prevented him from having sex with his wives (Deuteronomy 23:10; Exodus 19:15).
In 2 Samuel 13 we find the rape of Tamar by Amnon. We are told explicitly of her protests, which only serve to highlight Amnon’s sin.
So, given that such protests are part of the overall story, why don’t we read of protests from Bathsheba? She should have said, "No, my lord, do not do this thing." Then, when David forced her, we would see his sin in all its horror. But we don’t read anything like that. Everything indicates cooperation on her part. As we shall see, part of the reason we don’t have recorded such a protest is that adultery is not David’s primary sin, and the text wants to keep us focussed on what that sin was.
So, are we to assume that she was a willing adulteress? If so, why is she not punished? Why does Nathan only threaten David? There is an answer to this question, but we can only see it if we make a careful study of chronology, genealogy, and name lists.
Chronology and Genealogy
The answer begins with the fact that Bathsheba was the granddaughter of one of David’s chief counsellors, Ahithophel. Her father, Eliam, was one of David’s thirty mighty men (2 Samuel 11:3 & 23:34). This suggests that Bathsheba was a lot younger than David.
We can become much more specific. To begin with, we notice that three times Solomon is said to have been quite young when he became king (1 Kings 3:7; 1 Chronicles 22:5; 29:1). "Young" in this context is young compared to David when he became king at the age of thirty, for in Chronicles it is David who speaks. We can assume he was at least twenty, but not much more. Let us assume that Solomon was twenty. That means he was born when David was fifty, for David lived seventy years. This was at the mid-point of David’s forty-year reign.
Another event happened about this same time, which forms a second witness to our chronological suggestion: the rape of Tamar. We are told that Amnon and Absalom were born around the same time, after David became king at Hebron. Let us put their births when David was 31. Amnon must be old enough to have entered adolescence, and old enough to contemplate rape as a possibility, something unlikely in a boy only fifteen or sixteen years old. In David’s fiftieth year, Amnon would have been about nineteen.
We are told that the rape of Tamar happened shortly after the affair with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah (2 Samuel 13:1). About twelve years later we come to the revolt of Absalom, so the rape of Tamar could not have happened much later than David’s fiftieth year. Moreover, since Ahithophel was still alive at the time of Absalom’s revolt, we cannot press the revolt forward much farther than this. We cannot push the rape back much earlier in David’s reign either, or else Amnon becomes too young for this to be a real possibility. So, right around David’s fiftieth year emerges as the time of the rape of Tamar.
Absalom waited two years, and then murdered Amnon for the rape of his sister (2 Samuel 13:23). We notice that Absalom was clearly over twenty years of age at this time, since he already had his own flocks and household (13:23-29). If my reconstruction is approximately correct, and Amnon raped Tamar when the former was 19, then Absalom was probably 18 at that time. He waited two years until he came of age and could act. Absalom was probably 20 when he slew Amnon.
Absalom was exiled for three years (2 Samuel 13:38). He lived in Jerusalem apart from the palace life for two years thereafter (14:28). After four full years, he led his revolt (15:7). This means Absalom’s revolt happened 11-12 years after the rape of Tamar. We’ll go with twelve, and have David 62 years old.
(2 Samuel 15:7 in the Masoretic Hebrew text says that Absalom revolted after forty years. Josephus and ancient translations say four years. If the revolt took place in David’s fortieth year of reign, just before his death, we really don’t have enough time for the events of the conflict with Absalom and other events that are presented as happening afterward. Moreover, as the preceding paragraph shows, the text has been careful to follow the chronology of Absalom’s own life, so why would it change here and refer to David’s reign, or to some unknown event forty years earlier? Thus, all commentators take it as four years, as we do here.)
Now, at the time of the revolt, Ahithophel was an old man, but still able to serve as an advisor to Absalom (2 Samuel 15:12, etc.). Contrast Barzillai the Gileadite, who at the age of 80 felt he was too old to serve (19:35). Let us make Ahithophel roughly 74 years of age at this time. Nowhere does the text tell us why Ahithophel supported Absalom, but we can easily guess that he was alienated over David’s treatment of his granddaughter and her husband.
Now, the following chart assumes twenty years between generations, and helps establish roughly the age of Bathsheba when David took her:
| Absalom’s | Tamar’s | Bathsheba’s |
| Revolt | Rape | Seduction |
| David 62 | David 50 | David 49 |
| Ahithophel 74 | Ahithophel 62 | Ahithophel 61 |
| Eliam 54 | Eliam 42 | Eliam 41 |
| Bathsheba 34 | Bathsheba 22 | Bathsheba 21 |
Of course, these ages are approximate, but they are approximately correct. Considering their differences in age, and the fact that David was king, it is not hard to imagine that David simply overwhelmed Bathsheba.
To summarize the chronological argument: Ahithophel was Bathsheba’s grandfather, and (as we shall see) Eliam served with David before David became king. Eliam must be a fairly accomplished warrior at the time David becomes king. Since Ahithophel was still alive at the time of Absalom’s revolt, we must put that revolt as close to the beginning of David’s reign as possible. The ages of Amnon and Absalom, however, make it impossible to put the rape earlier than about twenty years into David’s reign.
At the same time, given the facts about Ahithophel and Eliam, we cannot put the seduction of Bathsheba early in David’s reign, or else she becomes too young. If we make her older, then Ahithophel becomes too old to be on the scene with Absalom. Thus, sometime close to the twentieth year of David’s reign becomes necessary for this sad event.
Finally, 2 Samuel 13:1 implies, though it does not flatly state, that Amnon’s rape of Tamar happened shortly after David’s sin with Bathsheba. Clearly, the firstborn royal prince thought he could get away with this because his father had done so.
In summary: The seduction of Bathsheba happened sometime around the eighteenth or nineteenth year of David’s reign. The rape of Tamar and the birth of Solomon happened a couple of years later, probably in David’s twentieth year. Absalom’s revolt took place twelve years later, in David’s 32nd year.
David’s Sin
Ahithophel was one of David’s chief counsellors, and Eliam was one of his chief soldiers. Eliam apparently had been with David from the time he was in the wilderness before he became king. This emerges from 2 Samuel 23. Verse 34 identifies Eliam as one of the thirty mighty men. Verse 13 says that three of these men brought David water while he was living in the cave of Adullam, after fleeing from Saul (1 Samuel 22:1-2). I am assuming from the wording of 2 Samuel 23:13 that the "thirty" were already in existence at this time; 1 Samuel 22:2 says that David had four hundred men with him then. We don’t know when this was exactly, but let us assume David was 27. Eliam would have been 19. Even if Eliam had not yet become part of the thirty at this time, clearly he became one early in David’s reign, for that was the time when the wars were fought, and only during such wars could he emerge as one of the mighty men.
What does this mean? It means that Bathsheba grew up around the palace of David. She was two years old, on our scheme, when David became king. Her father and grandfather were often at the palace. David knew them intimately. Did David bounce Bathsheba on his knee when she was a little girl? It is hard to imagine that he did not! Knowing David, I imagine he often got down on the floor and horsed around with the little kids of the court. I’ll bet David even burped Bathsheba on his shoulder when she was an infant.
Bathsheba grew up in awe of David, the man after God’s own heart, the author of the psalms, God’s anointed leader. All her life she had viewed him as one of Israel’s preeminent spiritual leaders. She had heard him speak of the Lord many times. She had heard her father and grandfather praise him. So, when David called for her, she came. (I doubt if she’d’ve come if Ahab had summoned her.)
Why did David have to ask who she was (2 Samuel 11:3)? At the age of fifty, his eyesight had doubtless begun to diminish. She was at some distance, and he could only see her general form. But note that she lived near enough to the palace to be espied, which again shows that she and her husband were closely associated with the court. Moreover, the form of the answer David received, "Is this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?" (v. 3), indicates that the man assumed David knew her: "Oh, you know that is, David. That’s Bathsheba."
What did David say to her? We can only imagine, but I suppose it went like this: "Trust me. This isn’t wrong. I’m the king, after all." And Bathsheba trusted him. After all, unlike the ordinary Israelite, David had lots of wives and concubines. (He wasn’t supposed to, of course, but he did.) Kings, Bathsheba knew, were different from ordinary people.
Could Bathsheba read? Did she have her own copy of the Torah to read? Doubtless not; few people bothered to learn to do so in the pre-Gutenberg world, and there surely weren’t a lot of copies of the Torah around. What she knew of spiritual matters came from men like David. If David said it was all right for her to sleep with him, she had no real reason to question him – or at least not much of one.
Now, if I have been successful I have exonerated Bathsheba of serious wrongdoing. Hers was a sin of being led astray. At the same time, David’s sin becomes much more serious than before. It was not only the sin of adultery, but the sin of leading one of God’s little ones astray. Nathan seems to imply as much when he says the rich man killed the poor man’s one ewe lamb (2 Samuel 12:4).
This story is that of David’s fall. David, unlike Adam, was a king, a leader, a guide, a teacher (psalmist). He was like the angel of Yahweh (2 Samuel 14:17, 20; 19:27). The analogy is to Lucifer in the Garden of Eden. Lucifer was chief of the angelic tutors to humanity during our childhood, and he led Adam and Eve into death by abusing his position (Galatians 3:19, 4:1-3). David did the same. David’s sin is a definite "advance" on Adam’s.
A study of details leads us to the same kind of horror when we consider Uriah the Hittite. This man was a convert. He was also one of the thirty mighty men (2 Samuel 23:39). Like Eliam, he had been with David before David became king. He was one of David’s good friends and wartime buddies.
But who converted Uriah? Well, who was the spiritual leader of the men who joined themselves to David at Adullam? David. It may well be that David himself converted this man. Even if it was not David who did it, David was the spiritual leader of the band and had much to do with instructing Uriah in the faith.
Uriah and Eliam were fellow knights of David’s round table, so to speak. Little Bathsheba grew up seeing the possibly exotic and fascinating foreigner Uriah from time to time. As she blossomed into womanhood, she and Uriah formed a bond and Eliam gave her to him in marriage. This is the picture of things that emerges from our study of the details.
When David encourages Uriah to violate the laws of war and sleep with his wife while the Ark is in the field, Uriah does protest. But then, Uriah was about forty years old, and as a warrior was used to making more independent judgments than the young Bathsheba. Then David, Uriah’s spiritual leader, murders him.
Conclusion
Several things emerge from our examination of the evidence. First, we see something of the intimate relationships between Ahithophel, Eliam, Uriah, David, and Bathsheba. These people were not unknown to one another; on the contrary, they had been very close for years. They were fellow members of the court. This fact alone makes David’s sin worse than it is often supposed to have been.
Second, we see that Bathsheba was probably innocent of any conscious wrongdoing in her relationship with David. If she had qualms (and she probably did), David was in a position to reassure her completely.
Third, we see that while David did commit adultery and murder, his primary sin was abuse of the ofice and position entrusted to him by God. This is clear from 2 Samuel 11:1, "Now it happened at the return of the year [springtime], at the time kings go out, that David sent Joab . . . but David stayed at Jerusalem." David was not acting as king. But by itself this was only a sin of neglectfulness. What happens next is that David uses his spiritual authority to lead others into sin, and to kill men who were under his oversight. He uses his position to take advantage of a young woman who has trusted him all her life. He uses his position to encourage a faithful man to sin, and then to murder him. David’s primary sin was sacrilege, the radical abuse of the holy calling God had given him as Israel’s leader.
Fourth, we see that David reversed Israel’s calling. Israel was called to be a light to the nations, a nation of priests to bring others to Yahweh. Uriah was such a man. He might even have been converted through David himself. Certainly he had been pastored by David. Now David murders him. Instead of witnessing to the nations, David murders them after they convert!
Fifth, it is interesting to consider that our chronology, which as we have seen cannot be adjusted very much either way, creates a generally chiastic structure in the reign of David. David reigns seven years in Hebron before becoming king over all Israel, and at the end reigns about seven years after having been rejected (briefly) as king. At the midpoint of his reign, he falls into sin, Solomon is born, and his family begins to fall apart. Twenty years of ascent are followed by twenty years of decline.
David’s Reign
0 – David becomes king over Judah
7 – Other tribes submit
20 (approx)- Sins; replacement king born
33 (approx) – Tribes revolt under Absalom
40 – David dies
Biblical Chronology, Vol. 9, No. 3
Copyright James B. Jordan 1997
March, 1997
In our first essay we looked at Kline’s flawed exegesis of Genesis 2:5 as it relates to Day 3 of creation. Now we turn to Kline’s new argument against a chronological reading of Genesis 1, as found, again, in "Space and Time in the Genesis Cosmogony," Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith 48:1 (March, 1996):2-15.
We must set out Kline’s argument in some detail in order to deal with it. He begins by writing that "another line of exegetical evidence has come to fore in my thinking. It concerns the two-register cosmological concept that structures the whole Biblical cosmogony" (p. 2). Kline’s argument will be that just as there is, within the creation, a heavens above and an earth beneath spatially, so also there is a heavenly time and an earthly time. Since there is no question about the former, it is the latter that Kline must establish.
Kline rightly points out that God created two realms in the beginning: heaven and earth. Clearly these two eventually were to become one, and that is what the history and maturation of humanity would lead to as a final eucatastrophe (good catastrophe). Moreover, as Kline points out, God set up within the lower (earthly) creation an upper and lower level, with the sky and its inhabitants called "heaven" and imaging the highest heaven within the earthly cosmos. Kline goes on to point out that the Tabernacle and Temple were also cosmic models, with the Holy of Holies as the highest heavens, and the Holy Place & Courtyard as visible heavens and earth.
(Since I am reviewing this article here, I should point out three errors in Kline’s otherwise fine discussion of these matters. On p. 3 he writes, "Taking its name from this above-section of visible space, supernal space (the above-section of the two-register cosmos) is then called `heaven.’" Actually, it is the other way around: The visible heavens are called "heavens" because they reveal aspects of the invisible heavens.
(Second, on p. 4 Kline writes, "The tabernacle and temple … are made after the pattern of the upper register temple revealed to Moses and Solomon." Rather, the Temple was revealed to David, who gave instructions to Solomon (1 Chronicles 28:11-19). Solomon and all the later temple-restoring kings, are equivalent to the Bezalel who built the Tabernacle under Moses’ instruction.
(Finally, also on p. 4, Kline writes, "Because of the Fall, the eschatological omega-point had to be won by the second Adam." Without taking it up here, I seriously question the notion that if Adam had not fallen Christ would not have been born. Everything in the Bible, especially the fact that humanity is the image of God, indicates to me that a Son of Man would eventually come to bring humanity to its eschatological glory, even if man had not sinned. If Adam had not sinned, he would have set humanity on the right course, but the climax would still have been a marriage of God and humanity through the incarnation and glorification as Human Son of His Eternal Son.)
Now Kline goes on from his general explanation of the two-tiered creation to a discussion of the six days. He advocates the notion that the first three days set out realms, while the next three set out rulers; kingdoms and kings:
Day One: Sky realm Day Four: Sky rulers
Day Two: Upper and lower realms Day Five: Birds and Fishes
Day Three: Earthly realm Day Six: Earthly rulers
Without going into all the points he makes, I must raise questions about this approach. This is surely one way to look at Genesis 1, and it is not without value, but it is not the most comprehensive and valuable way of looking at it.
The first observation is that the birds and fishes of Day 5 and the land animals of Day 6a are not said to rule anything. They are only said to multiply and fill. Whatever else may be said about them in later Biblical passages (some of which Kline references), nothing about ruling is said here. The parallel is not as exact as Kline would like it to be. Within the passage, the parallel for the filling and multiplication of birds, fishes, and animals is the filling of the earth with grain plants and fruit trees on Day 3.
Moreover, second, birds are not said to dwell in the firmament or the sky, paralleling Day 2. Rather, they are said to multiply on the earth (Genesis 1:22). They only travel in the sky. Indeed, they nest and dwell on the earth and trees, which associates them more with Day 3, and accordingly the fishes with the seas of Day 3. Indeed, the order (fishes and then birds) follows the order of Day 2-3 (sea and then land/trees).
Third, I think it can easily be shown that the Seven Days of Genesis One are a chiasm, to wit:
Day One: Light
Day Two: Firmament mediating between earth and God
Day Three: Sea, Land, and Trees
Day Four: Light Bearers in the Firmament (link to 1 & 2, 6 & 7)
Day Five: Dwellers of Sea, Land, and Trees
Day Six: The creatures who mediate between earth and God
Day Seven: Sabbath
Fourth, not only does this outline do better justice to the raw data, it also takes better account of what is said in verse 2, to wit: The earth was formless, empty, and dark. There are three "problems" to solve, and Genesis 1 solves them. The "kingdom and kings" approach to Genesis 1 does not take account of the fact that the entire passage is set up to "solve" these "problems." To wit:
Day One: Darkness (light)
Day Two: Formless (firmament)
Day Three: Emptiness (grain and fruit plants)
Day Four: Darkness (light-bearers)
Day Five: Emptiness (fishes and birds)
Day Six: Formless (man the ruler/former/organizer)
Day Seven: Darkness (God’s judgment-light)
Thus, while Kline is certainly right to see heavens above and earth below as structuring the cosmos in Genesis 1, his attempt to show that this is the overarching concern in Genesis 1 is in error. The theme is not as prominent as he supposes. As we shall see, part of his argument against taking the days of Genesis 1 as normal earthly days is this supposed overarching concern with matters above and below.
Sacred Time
At this point, Kline makes the mistake of creating a false analogy between heavenly space and heavenly time. Just as heavenly space is different, so he supposes is heavenly time. (Remember, neither Kline nor I am discussing the eternity of God, but rather the flow of time in the created heavens of the angels.) Kline writes, "Therefore, when we find that God’s upper level activity of issuing creative fiats from his heavenly throne is pictured as transpiring in a week of earthly days, we readily recognize that, in keeping with the pervasive contextual pattern, this is a literary figure, an earthly, lower register time metaphor for an upper register, heavenly reality" (p. 7). (I have shown above that the "pervasive contextual pattern" is lacking.)
There are a couple of global problems with this general argument, which I shall address before moving to Kline’s particular contextual argument. First, Kline rightly argues that when God’s Glory Cloud appears, it is the heavenly realm inserting into the earthly. But this means that God marches in earthly time along with His people. The Cloud parked in the Holy of Holies is experiencing earthly clock-history right along with Israel. Thus, even if there were two kinds of time, God chooses to come into earthly time and move with it. And since Genesis 1 has to do with the lightening, forming, and filling of the EARTH, it should have to do with earthly time.
Second, there is no reason to think that heavenly time has a differently ticking clock from earthly time. There is no evidence in the Bible for such a notion, however it may be expressed. Quite the opposite: In the book of Revelation is it clear that heavenly time is the same as earthly time. The angels wait for Jesus’ ascension. At God’s command, they come down into the earthly realm and perform actions in human history. To be sure, all the time statements in Revelation are symbolic, but it is clearly a symbolism common to the heavenly and earthly realms.
So, how does Kline argue? His argument, in brief, is this: The alternation of day and night presupposes the creation of the sun, and so Days 1 and 4 must happen at the same time, chronologically speaking. Since this is so, he argues, the events of Genesis 1 must all reflect intrusions of heavenly "days" into the earthly temporal realm, and we should not take the "days" chronological in an earthly sense.
Kline begins, "Earthly time is articulated in the astronomical phenomena that measure off and structure its flow" (p. 7). What Kline does not say is that the week is an exception to this astral measurement, and Genesis 1 is precisely a week. True, the day and the year and the month are measured by sun and moon, but the week is measured only by God, angels, and men. The week, as a measurement of time, has its root in man’s "position in the firmament" between heaven and earth. Man is lord of the week. The human week is not copied from the sun, but from God’s pattern of working in Genesis 1.
Ah, Kline says, but the human week consists of solar days. And so it does. Now Kline must show that from the beginning all days were solar days. He begins by asserting that Day Four must overlap Day One, for the alternation of day and night must be produced by the sun. He continues by arguing against various "day-age" notions, such as that the sun was only revealed on the fourth day.
Then he comes to the only argument he can muster against a literal view of the days of Genesis 1. He writes, "Some speculate about a supernatural light source, a manifestation of divine glory in space. But that distorts the eschatological design of creation history, according to which the advent of God’s glory as the source of illumination that does away with the need for the sun awaits the Consummation" (p. 9).
If, however, we go back to Genesis 1:2-3, such a "glory light" view seems quite natural. The Spirit entered the earthly realm and hovered over it. Then the Spirit gave forth God’s glory-light for the first day. Kline’s own fine study, "Images of the Spirit," shows that the appearance of the Spirit in history is accompanied by glory phenomena. He is forced by his position to make Genesis 1:2-3 the only exception to this observation.
Moreover, a simple read of Genesis 1 would lead us to see that the sun was made to fit the preexistent day, not vice versa. The alternation of day and night already existed, and the heavenly bodies were set up to fit that preexisting pattern.
Kline, however, asserts that God’s glory-light is eschatological; and he is right. The night does move to day. The night is not pitch black, for there are lesser lights in the sky; but such nights do move toward the Day of the Lord. And I suspect Kline would see that motion in Genesis 1:2-3, dark to light. What he does not want to see is Genesis 1:3 as a typological revelation of the eschatological light. It must be, in his view, some lesser light.
Perhaps this is because that light is followed by another evening. Yet, when God appears in His glory light in later history, such glorious appearances are also followed by evenings. The light is withdrawn. Only at the full end will light be perpetual. Thus, there is no problem with seeing God’s glory light in Genesis 1:3, a light that is shortly veiled and then reappears twice until the sun is created.
Moreover, it is entirely appropriate that God initiate history with a revelation of where history is going. That is, it is entirely fitting that God reveal His glory at the beginning, to set humanity in motion. This is clear from the fact that man was created later in the sixth day, so that his first full day was God’s glory-sabbath. Man was to be given a taste of eschatological sabbath glory at the beginning, to set him on his goal.
Agreeable to this, God appears in glory when He initiates covenants in the Bible. He puts the bright and glorious rainbow in the sky when He initiates the Noahic covenant. He appears as a pillar of glory-fire when He leads Israel from Egypt (Exodus 13:21-22). He appears in bright lightning flashes from His glory cloud at Mount Sinai, the point of full initiation of the Sinaitic covenant. And of course, Jesus is transfigured at the very point when He initiates the Church, revealing as the hymn says, "the glory that the Church shall share" (Matthew 16:13 – 17:8).
O wondrous type, O vision fair:
The glory that the Church shall share,
Which Christ upon the mount displays,
The sun unequal to His rays.
(Latin hymn, 15th c.; trans. J. M. Neale, modified)
Thus, contrary to Kline, everything in the immediate text and in Biblical theology points to a revelation of God’s own created heavenly glory-light on Day 1. Nothing hints that the sun must have been made at that point.
Kline’s conclusion, however, is: "Temporal recapitulation most certainly occurs at day four and hence there is no escaping the conclusion that the narrative sequence is not intended to be the chronological sequence." Since Kline’s foundation is completely wrong, his conclusion does not stand.
This is Kline’s argument, but he also points to a couple of other factors. First, he says that "in the beginning" must refer to God outside of time and history, for it is from that situation that He made the universe. Quite so. But having made it, what indicates that there are two different kinds of time operating in it? From outside time God made time and heaven and earth. Nothing indicates two different flows of time. This is especially the case since Kline, rightly I think, argues that God’s speaking into the earthly creation during the days of Genesis 1 is not from His eternal existence but from His (created) heavenly throne. Kline would have to show that angelic clocks run differently from human ones, and that he has not done. Whatever the case, the phrase "in the beginning" in Genesis 1:1 does nothing for his argument.
Secondly, Kline notes that there is a sense in which the seventh day is unending. We "enter into" God’s preexistent sabbath in Hebrews 4. Correct; but the seventh day is not said to have an evening and a morning either. There is no problem at all with the traditional view that we have six normal days followed by an unending one.
Evening and Morning
And this brings Kline to an attempt to deal with the repeated phrase "and there was evening and there was morning," which is said regarding the first six days. This phrase is generally regarded as the hardest problem for both the framework hypothesis and for the day-age hypothesis. Kline, however, simply dismisses the problem. He asserts: "The IMAGERY of the evening and morning is SIMPLY a DETAIL in the creation-week PICTURE. This refrain thus function as part of the FORMULARIZED framework of the account" (p. 10; emphasis added). This statement, however, is precisely what Kline needs to demonstrate, not merely assert. Kline seeks to pass off the data as "simply a detail in the imagery of a picture."
He asserts that "the six evening-morning days then do not mark the passage of time in the lower register sphere" (p. 10). They were "upper register" days. But on what basis does Kline assert this? He has given no credible evidence to suppose that there is any such thing as a different heavenly time. He asserts that the six days "are not identifiable in terms of solar days, but relate to the history of creation at the upper register of the cosmos" (p. 10). Well, even if so, so what? He has not shown that upper register time is any different from lower register time.
Moreover, this whole assertion strains at a gnat and swallows a camel. It is precisely the EARTH that is being lightened, formed, and filled in Genesis 1. The evenings and mornings are measured out by light and light-bearers WITHIN the earth. The evenings and mornings are as much part of the "lower earthly realm" as trees, fishes, and human beings. We have no reason to believe in an alternation of evenings and mornings in the upper heavenly realm. Evening and morning are, it seems, exclusively earthly phenomena. Thus, so are the days.
Kline states that "in the beginning" is timeless in some sense, and that the sabbath day is unending; therefore, the days bracketed by these two statements are not ordinary chronological days (p. 10). This is an amazingly gratuitous assertion. Rather clearly, the six days are precisely ordinary chronological time. God initiates history "in the beginning," and ends it at the sabbath. What is in between? History! Clock time! The creation week typologically reveals the unfolding of history to us: initiated by God and consummated by His sabbath judgment and rest. Just as God appears as Glory to start men off in their covenantal work (as we saw), so He also provides a microcosmic picture of history to show us where we are going. It is precisely history and chronological time that is revealed in the six days.
Genesis 1 shows God initiating the world and then working with it for six days before entering into His sabbath and turning the project over to His servants. This is said to be a pattern for human work in Exodus 20:11. As a father patterns for his children, so God patterns for us. If the six work days of Genesis 1 are not "lower realm" earthly days, then they don’t have much relevance to the life of mankind.
And again, it is precisely the "lower realm earth" that God is manipulating in Genesis 1. To assert that God is working in earthly space using heavenly days is virtually a contradiction (assuming that heavenly days are any different).
Conclusion
We have seen that Kline’s attempt to create a contradiction between Day 3 and what is said in Genesis 2:5 is based on very poor exegesis. There is no contradiction.
We have seen that Kline’s attempt to make the events of Day 1 and of Day 4 the same chronologically is also devoid of foundation, and goes against Biblical theology.
We have seen that these are the twin pillars of Kline’s argument for a non-chronological "framework" approach to Genesis 1. This is by his own statement (p. 2). Without these two pillars, Kline’s position falls by his own hand.
Finally, nothing else Kline has noted along the way provides any evidence for a framework view.
We conclude that the framework approach to Genesis 1 is nothing but a groundless and arbitrary assertion, and unworthy of serious consideration.
The fact that the blocks of events are called "days" could, by itself, arguably be evidence of the "invasion of history by God’s glorious day-ness," analogous to the various "days of the Lord" in the Bible. In fact, we can readily grant that this is one aspect of the theology of Genesis 1. But that the days are sequentially numbered, that they have mornings and evenings, and that in context the sun is said to measure the length of these very days after the fourth day, demonstrates fully that the events of Genesis 1 are chronologically sequential, and that the days are of short and ordinary duration.
