Dan Olinger

Why Creation Matters, Part 10: Acts 

April 2, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

After the Gospels introduce us to the life and ministry of Jesus, the Christ, one of the Gospel writers, Luke, presents a second volume of his Gospel, narrating the outworking of Jesus’ last command, the Great Commission (Lk 24.46-49). He repeats the Commission, expanded slightly, at the beginning of his second volume (Ac 1.8); whereas his earlier account says only that their witness should “begin at Jerusalem,” here it mandates four distinct stages: “in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts of the earth.” Luke’s narrative lays out those stages clearly, ending in faraway and powerful Rome, where Paul, under house arrest, is preaching the gospel “unhinderedly” (Ac 28.31)—that adverb is the last word of the book.

Along the way Luke records sermons or testimonies by several different messengers, including a deacon, Stephen (Ac 7.1-53); an evangelist, Philip (Ac 8.26-40); and two apostles, Peter (Ac 2.14-36; 3.12-26; 4.8-12; 10.34-43) and Paul (Ac 13.16-41; 17.22-31; 20.18-35; 22.1-21; 24.10-21; 26.2-23).

Paul notably includes Creation theology in two of his sermons, both addressed to practicing pagans. The first is in the city of Lystra, in modern Turkey, on his first missionary journey (Ac 14.6-7). When he comes across a disabled man, who had never been able to walk (Ac 14.8), he heals him (Ac 14.9-10). The locals assume that he and Barnabas are two Greek gods, Zeus and Hermes (Ac 14.11-12), and set about to worship them with sacrifices.

Paul responds by contrasting the Greek gods with the one true God—and he does so by pointing them to Creation. Zeus and Hermes, Paul says, are “vanities” (Ac 14.15a)—empty—but the God who created all things is clearly not (Ac 14.15b). This God has been patient (Ac 14.16), even giving all mankind freely whatever they need to survive (Ac 14.17). Luke does not describe any immediate reaction to this sermon, but he does note that some time later, on their return trip, Paul and Barnabas do minister to “disciples” there (Ac 14.21-22).

Paul’s second use of Creation theology is much more well known. On his second journey he leaves his team behind to care for newly founded churches in Macedonia and travels by himself to Athens. There, grieved by the rampant idolatry he sees (Ac 17.16), he responds not only in the synagogue, but in the agora, the public marketplace (Ac 17.17). Some philosophers, intrigued by his ideas, take him to the Areopagus (“Ares’ Hill”*—there’s another Greek god), where formal philosophical discussions take place, and invite him to present his views (Ac 17.18-21).

Paul’s presentation is a masterpiece of audience adaptation. He begins with a local hook, a description of one of the local altars (Ac 17.23) “to the unknown god,” and he offers to present this deity.

This God, he says, has created the world and everything in it; how, then, could he live in a mere temple (Ac 17.24)? How could he benefit from anything we offer to him (Ac 17.25)? And since he directs the affairs of men and nations (Ac 17.26), our very presence here today is an offer of salvation from him to you (Ac 17.27).

And then, remarkably, he begins to quote their poets—extemporaneously!—as evidence that this God exists and is great and good. He had clearly studied their literature.

So, he says, repent (Ac 17.31), in preparation for the coming day of judgment; the God who has given all life can surely raise his Son from the dead (Ac 17.31) as judge of all the earth.

The Athenians do not respond well to the idea of resurrection; many of them view the body as something evil, from which we yearn to be freed by death. There is apparently no church planted there; in later years Paul will not write a letter to the Athenians. But there are a few converts, including a member of the city council, Dionysius the Areopagite (Ac 17.34).

To Paul, Creation matters. Very much.

* The hill is called “Mars’ Hill” today. Mars is the Roman god of war; Ares is the Greek. The name “Areopagus” is a clear reference to Ares.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 9: The Gospels

March 30, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We turn now from the Old Testament to the New, from the Hebrew Scriptures to the Christian. This second section begins, of course, with the Gospels, the story of the earthly ministry of Jesus, the Messiah, the Christ. Because three of the Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—tell the story in very similar ways, we call them the Synoptic (“same view”) Gospels. And two of those, Matthew and Mark, report that Jesus bases the central human relationship, the basis of the family, on Creation.

Matthew 19.4

We know that Creation climaxed with God creating, not with his words but with his hands, two beings who were unlike all the others, in his image (Gen 1.26-27). He made them male and female and placed them together, naked and unashamed, as husband and wife (Gen 2.21-25).

Jesus does not see this event as allegory, myth, or fable. He alludes to the Genesis account and then even quotes a portion of it (Gen 2.24 in Mt 19.5), concluding,

Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder (Mt 19.6; compare the parallel account in Mk 10.6-9).

The social arrangement of marriage is based primarily not on convenience or even strongly felt emotion, but the historical fact of God’s creation of Adam and Eve for each other.

I was astonished at how cavalierly our society, with Obergefell, tossed aside the established social contract or covenant of marriage, after millennia—or if you’re an evolutionist, hundreds of millennia—of uninterrupted precedent. We are a society without foundation, without stability, and thus without any sort of predictable future.

John 1.3

The fourth Gospel begins with Creation theology. John, writing decades later than the Synoptists, starts with a Prologue (John 1.1-18) that has been recognized as among the most significant literary works ever composed. He introduced Jesus not primarily as the Anointed One (Christ) from God, but as God himself, the Word by which God created. He made all things (Jn 1.3); he is life, and light, the light that overwhelmed the initial darkness (Jn 1.4-5). He is not the light brought by a mere messenger, a prophet (Jn 1.6-8), but the true light, the universal light (Jn 1.9).

We know from the Creation account that there was light from the very beginning (Gen 1.3), before there was a sun or moon (Gen 1.14-18). Now John tells us that Jesus not only spoke light into existence, but that he was himself the light. He enlightened the cosmos at the beginning, in a physical sense; but as John tells the story of his life, we will find that Jesus brings a very different, and more powerful and significant, kind of light; he not only gives sight to the man born blind—essentially creating from clay, as at the beginning, a pair of functioning eyes that the man had never possessed (Jn 9.1-7), but also presenting himself as the enlightener of the soul to all who will believe (Jn 9.30; 1.10-12).

John concludes his Prologue by identifying Jesus as the source of grace and truth (Jn 1.17), the means by which we ordinary humans can see spiritual as well as physical light. He is the one who “declares” the Father (Jn 1.18). This word in the original is exegeomai, the source of the English word exegete. Jesus shows us precisely, perfectly, who God is and what he is like, enabling us to know him.

Light.

This Easter Week is a good time to think on these things. Crucifixion, atonement, and earth-shaking resurrection.

What a Saviour.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 8: Minor Prophets

March 26, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

What we call the Minor Prophets the Hebrew canon calls The Book of the Twelve, a single book in the Latter Prophets with Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel. Within this book I’d like to focus on 3 Creation passages, 1 each in Amos, Jonah, and Zechariah.

Amos 5.8

Amos is one of the earliest of all the writing prophets. He is writing to the Northern Kingdom of Israel, calling them to confess and repent of their sins in light of the coming invasion by Assyria. He begins chapter 5 by predicting their downfall (Amos 5.2), a literal decimation (Amos 5.3). He gives them yet another chance to repent (Amos 5.4-6), culminating with a reminder of God’s great power to do all his will:

Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion,
And turneth the shadow of death into the morning,
And maketh the day dark with night:
That calleth for the waters of the sea,
And poureth them out upon the face of the earth:
The LORD is his name:
9 That strengtheneth the spoiled against the strong,
So that the spoiled shall come against the fortress (Amos 5.8-9).

As we’ve seen earlier, God here presents not only his power to create (the seven stars and Orion), but his power to direct both cosmic (day / night, sea / land) and political (spoiled [looted] / strong) forces.

The God who can—and does—do these things can both overwhelm the unrepentant in judgment and deliver the repentant.

Jonah 1.9

Jonah, writing at roughly the same time as Amos, demonstrates the truth of his prophetic colleague’s words by his own actions—and disobedient ones at that.

Jonah rejects God’s command to preach the destruction of Nineveh—as we later learn, because he knows that God will forgive those who repent (Jonah 4.2)—and purchases a boat fare in the other direction, to Tarshish. God then hurls a storm upon the Mediterranean, one so fierce that seasoned sailors believe they’re done for. They cast lots to determine who is being judged by the storm, and the lot falls to Jonah. When they ask him for an explanation, he replies,

I fear [worship] the LORD, the God of heaven, which hath made the sea and the dry land (Jonah 1.9).

The God who created the sea, and separated it from the land—boy, would these sailors love to bring them back together right now!—can bring overwhelming judgment. But, Jonah says, he will also deliver them if they obey him.

Just what Amos said.

Zechariah 12.1

The Creation theology of the Hebrew Scriptures ends* on a positive note. Zechariah is a post-exilic prophet, an exact contemporary of Haggai. Both of them worked together to encourage the returned exiles from Babylon to rebuild the Temple, initiating the Second Temple Period. A major theme in both prophets is the blessing and even glory that lie ahead for God’s people in Jerusalem.

Here Zechariah describes God as the one who

stretcheth forth the heavens, and layeth the foundation of the earth,
And formeth the spirit of man within him (Zec 12.1b).

To these returnees, who have been rebuilding the Temple, Zechariah speaks of a God who knows something about laying a foundation and using a measuring line, who has invested mankind with his very breath (and thereby his image [Gen 1.26-27]), will take notice of their obedience in building and will demonstrate his love for them by blessing them in the days ahead. He even looks ahead to the day when the Shepherd will be smitten and the sheep will be scattered (Zec 13.7), and beyond even that to the Day of the Lord, when his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives (Zec 14.1-4), and God will usher in a day when “every pot in Jerusalem and in Judah shall be holiness unto the LORD of hosts” (Zec 14.21).

All will be well, because the God who began it all, powerfully and intelligently, will bring it to his benevolent and designed conclusion.

Creation matters.

* Malachi makes a brief reference to Creation (Mal 2.10) as the unifying basis for God’s covenant people—a fitting closure to the Older Covenant.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 7: Jeremiah

March 23, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Jeremiah’s prophecy resembles Isaiah’s in many ways, even though they certainly never met; Isaiah wrote in the 700s BC, while Jeremiah wrote more than a century later, in the late 600s and early 500s. But they have the same focus: the sin of Judah and the coming judgment by Babylon. (Incidentally Ezekiel is Jeremiah’s contemporary, but he’s writing from Babylon, while Jeremiah is in Judah. Ezekiel has little to say about Creation theology, unless one counts his reference to the creation of the king of Tyre / Satan in chapter 28.)

Jeremiah uses Creation as evidence for the Creator’s power and sovereignty in 4 passages. Because 2 of them are quite similar, I’ll discuss them together.

Jeremiah 10.12

In this chapter Jeremiah is mocking the makers and worshipers of idols for the evident stupidity of their practices: “the customs of the people are vanity [empty]” (Jer 10.3). They cut down a tree and decorate it (Jer 10.3-9), but they themselves know that this piece of wood and metal did not create the cosmos (Jer 10.11). On the contrary, God did (Jer 10.12), and he maintains, empowers, and directs it at his will (Jer 10.13). And it is this God who will direct Judah into judgment (Jer 10.17-25). As in Isaiah, the opening narrative of the Hebrew Scriptures is the basis for God’s judgment on their idolatry.

Jeremiah 27.5; 51.15

In chapter 27 God orders Jeremiah to send a message to the nations surrounding Judah, who have been her enemies over the centuries (Jer 27.1-3): the Creator (Jer 27.5) is sending judgment at the hands of Babylon (Jer 27.6-11). The God who has placed the nations in their lands can remove and replace them just as easily (Jer 27.5-6). Even Judah will come under that judgment (Jer 27.12-22). Chapter 51 carries the account a step further: though God has used Babylon as his tool to bring judgment to these nations (Jer 51.20-23), he will hold Babylon / Chaldea to account as well for the fury with which they carried out God’s judgment (Jer 51.1-14). That nation too will be humbled and defeated by the Medes (essentially the Persians; Jer 51.11, 28) and aligned nations as well (Jer 51.27). God goes on at some length describing the destruction that is coming to great Babylon (Jer 51.24-58).

Jeremiah 32.17

In chapter 32 Jeremiah engages in an exercise to demonstrate his confidence in God’s promise: he buys a parcel of land and signs the deed (Jer 32.9-10).

The enemy is at the gates. This is a really bad time to invest in real estate.

But he does.

We’ll be back, he says, and I’ll claim my property.

Of course, since it’s 70 years away, the property will have to go to his heirs.

Why does Jeremiah do this? Isn’t it the equivalent of saving your Confederate money?

Not at all. God has promised that Judah will return after 70 years (Jer 25.11-12; 29.10). Jeremiah believes him. (Incidentally, 70 years later Daniel reads this prophecy, and he believes it too. See Daniel 9.1-2.)

How can he believe God so strongly?

Because this God created the heavens and the earth. He can do anything; “there is nothing too hard for thee” (Jer 32.17). He has delivered Judah from Egypt (Jer 32.20-21) and brought them into Canaan (Jer 32.22), even though he knew that they would rebel against him once they were there (Jer 32.23).

Yes, Babylon is coming (Jer 32.24). Sign the deed (Jer 32.25). You’ll be back (Jer 32.37).

And better yet, God will change the Judahites from the inside out, making them a different kind of people (Jer 32.38-42). After the return from Babylon, Judah never had a problem with idolatry again. And further, under the New Covenant (Jer 31.31-34), God’s people—of all nations—are regenerated and sanctified from the inside out. But that’s another series.

And Jeremiah’s won’t be the only property deed (Jer 32.43-44).

There’s a second message from God in chapter 33, and it too begins with Creation: “Thus saith the Lord the maker thereof, the Lord that formed it, to establish it; the Lord is his name” (Jer 33.2). And then comes the famous verse,

Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not (Jer 33.3).

We, too, can call on the Creator and depend on his promises.

Creation matters.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 6: Isaiah

March 19, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: From the Beginning | Part 3: The Flood | Part 4: The Sabbath | Part 5: Deliverance

I commented in the previous post that there’s a lot of Creation theology in the Latter Prophets, what Protestants call the Major and Minor Prophets. Something I didn’t mention last time is that the passage discussed in that post, 2 Kings 18.9ff, has a close parallel in Isaiah 37.14ff; the same event is described in both passages.

I’d like to spend this post looking at Isaiah’s Creation theology; the next post, looking at Jeremiah’s; and the third taking a dip into the Minor Prophets.

Isaiah is one of the earliest writing prophets, laboring in the 700s BC. During his time Assyria is the world power, taking the Northern Kingdom of Israel into captivity and ending its royal line. But surprisingly, Isaiah writes of a time when Assyria is effectively no more; rather he looks ahead more than a century, to when Babylon will be the power—that prophecy alone would have been surprising, if not completely unbelievable—and when Judah will have its time in exile.

But he looks beyond that too, to a (Persian) ruler named Cyrus, whom he calls his “anointed one”(messiah) and to someone else, whom he calls “My Servant.” All of these passages use Creation theology.

Isaiah 42.5

This is the first of Isaiah’s famous “Servant Songs,” which culminate in the well-known Isaiah 53. After describing the humble and gentle character of his Servant (Is 42.1-3)—as well as his certain victory (Is 42.4)—Isaiah records the words of God himself, beginning with his reference to the Creation (Is 42.5). The God who can do this, he says, will certainly call and keep and empower his Servant, who will liberate not only his covenant people, but the Gentiles as well (Is 42.6-9).

The God who created the cosmos will certainly rule it wisely and well and will accomplish his own purposes throughout its existence.

Isaiah 44.23-45.18

This passage, which lies between the first two Servant Songs, focuses on God’s deliverance of Judah from captivity in Babylon and their consequent return to the land. The God who created the universe (Is 44.24) and who overrules the plans of the wicked, those who defy the created order (Is 44.25), and who empowers his servants (Is 44.26), will certainly restore Judah and Jerusalem (Is 44.26). Further, he will use the pagan king Cyrus of Persia to accomplish this (Is 44.28).

Keep in mind that Isaiah is writing well over a century before Cyrus was even born. God can do that too. Cyrus is “my shepherd” (Is 44.28) and “my anointed [Messiah]” (Is 45.1). He can no more oppose or frustrate the will of God than a lump of clay can resist the potter. The Creator will do all his will.

Isaiah 48.13-15

God continues to assert his will over Babylon (also called the Chaldeans). The God who tells the heavens what to do faces no challenges from a temporary earthly kingdom—and one whose domain is merely local (if a big local from its perspective) at that.

Isaiah 51.13-17

God now turns his attention from Babylon to Judah. If your God has made heaven and earth—and your own Scripture starts with that foundational fact—then why are you afraid of Babylon, your oppressor? How does it make any sense to be intimidated by an entity that is utterly powerless before God your maker?

Indeed, if the Creator pronounces your sentence completed (Is 51.17), then what can possibly cause it to continue?

Isaiah’s Creation theology is straightforward: the Creator’s demonstrated power to begin the cosmos is convincing evidence of his power to maintain and direct it—whether through the successful ministry of his Divine Servant, through conforming decisions of pagan kings, or through the informed trust of his people.

Creation matters.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 5: Deliverance 

March 16, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: From the Beginning | Part 3: The Flood | Part 4: The Sabbath 

Having surveyed the first section of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Torah, or Law—the 5 books of Moses—we turn now to the second, the Prophets. This section is normally divided into the Former Prophets, what we Protestants call the books of History, and the Latter Prophets, what we call the Major and Minor Prophets. There’s a lot of creation material in the Latter Prophets, but I’m going to touch on just one passage in the Former.

During the reign of Hezekiah, Assyria invades, conquers, and takes into exile the northern kingdom of Israel, where Hoshea is king (2K 18.9-12). Ten years later, as one would expect of an invading king who has faced resistance from both these kingdoms, the new Assyrian king, Sennacherib, turns his attention to the southern kingdom of Judah. He begins by merely demanding tribute in the form of silver and gold. Hezekiah strips the precious metals from Solomon’s Temple and turns them over (2K 18.13-16).

Sennacherib, however, is not yet done. Perhaps noting Hezekiah’s initial cooperation, the Assyrian sends emissaries, backed up by a large army, to mock Hezekiah and to threaten to destroy Jerusalem (2K 18.17-37). He calls for the city’s complete surrender, if necessary against the wishes of their king.

This is no mean threat. In these days Assyria is the Big Kid on the Block, the conquering army that can operate at will across the Near East. Sennacherib’s emissaries have made threats, and they can keep every one of them.

But things are different in the South. Whereas Hoshea, the northern king, had been evil, Hezekiah is godly; and placing the Creator of heaven and earth on the scales tips them infinitely toward Hezekiah.

The godly king humbles himself as he seeks God’s presence in the (much reduced) Temple. He sends messengers to the leading prophet at the time, Isaiah, and requests his prayer for the nation (2K 19.1-4). Isaiah responds, apparently quickly, that God will deliver his people from even this essentially omnipotent king; he will need to return to his land, where God will judge him with death (2K 19.5-7).

The prophecy eventuates. On his way out of Judah, Sennacherib assures Hezekiah of his eventual return and the defeat of Judah (2K 19.8-13). His ground? That the gods of the surrounding nations have not been able to deliver their people.

Ah. Logical flaw, comparing the gods of the nations to Judah’s God. Hezekiah takes Sennacherib’s written diatribe before the Lord in the Temple and tells him:

“O Lord, the God of Israel, who are enthroned above the cherubim, You are the God, You alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. ¹⁶Incline Your ear, O Lord, and hear; open Your eyes, O Lord, and see; and listen to the words of Sennacherib, which he has sent to reproach the living God. ¹⁷Truly, O Lord, the kings of Assyria have devastated the nations and their lands ¹⁸and have cast their gods into the fire, for they were not gods but the work of men’s hands, wood and stone. So they have destroyed them. ¹⁹Now, O Lord our God, I pray, deliver us from his hand that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that You alone, O Lord, are God” (2K 19.15-19).

Powerful words. The gods of the nations do not deliver, because they cannot; they are not gods, or even persons, or even sentient beings at all. They are wood and stone, themselves the creations of men’s imaginations and craftsmanship.

But Judah’s God, this God, is the Creator of Heaven and Earth. He made all things from nothing, with spoken words. Any God who can do this can do anything else, if he wants to. And if his prophet has assured Hezekiah that Judah will be delivered, then it will most surely be delivered.

And it is, spectacularly. The angel of this God massacres the Assyrian army as they sleep in their tents (2K 19.35), and upon returning home, Sennacherib is murdered, ironically enough, as he is worshiping his own (false) god.

This Creator God can do anything. He certainly can deliver his people from finite enemies.

Now, the God who created and made covenant with Hezekiah is also the one who created and has made covenant with his people today. We are safe in his care.

Creation matters.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 4: The Sabbath

March 12, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: From the Beginning | Part 3: The Flood 

Moses gives us one more application of Creation that I’d like to note. One of the Ten Commandments, the fourth, makes a direct reference to the creation as a basis for application to how we live. I note that two of the commandments—the second and the fourth—receive considerably more column inches than the others. (Not that any of the ten are “less” important than the others, of course.) The second, which forbids graven images, protects the holiness of God; since God is unlike any of his creatures, to make an image of him is to represent him as less than he actually is.

Does the fourth commandment do something similar? God says that his people are to honor the Sabbath—because he did. Interestingly, there is a second recounting of the Ten Commandments over in Exodus 31, where God says something that ought to get our attention. He says there that by resting on the seventh day, God “was refreshed” (Ex 31.17).

Now, God doesn’t get tired; he’s omnipotent. And creating the universe, even in just six days, was not at all taxing for him. But when he finished his astonishing work, since he had created time as well as space, he took some of that time to sit back and enjoy—take pleasure in—what he had created. We know, because he created sunsets, that he enjoys the beauty of sunsets; we know, because he created flowers, that he enjoys the beauty of flowers.

One of God’s attributes is aestheticism.

And because we are in his image, we should take the time to sit back and enjoy a job well done.

Aaaahhhh.

Is there more to it than that?

I note that in Israel, violating the Sabbath was a capital offense (Ex 31.14). Does God kill people for being insufficiently aesthetic?

I suppose, given enough time and thought, I could try to make a case for that, but I don’t think it’s necessary; these passages add further depth to the significance of the Sabbath.

God calls this practice “a Sabbath of rest” (Ex 31.15). We’ve noted that he was not tired at the end of the Creation week, so the seventh day did not serve as recuperative for him. But he knows that we, his people, whom he loves, do get tired, and as he provides all our other needs, he provides our need for proper rest and recovery from exertion. He goes further than that; he commands it. We must rest, as a sign of our relationship with our Creator God.

Work/life balance. It’s a thing.

We think we show our love for God by doing all the things. Well, if we love him, we do obey him. But we don’t show love for him by abusing ourselves in his service; we plan regular times of refreshment, of enjoying his presence and the beauty of where he has placed us in his created world.

Which brings us back to aesthetics, doesn’t it?

Some years ago I was blessed to visit in the home of a Messianic Jewish family in Arad, Israel, on a Friday evening. We gathered around the table for supper, joined hands, and sang their traditional song:

Shabbat shalom!
Shabbat shalom!
Shabbat shalom, shalom!
Shabbat shalom!

We smiled, and we circled the table, and I experienced newly the joy of entering into God’s Sabbath rest, receiving it as a precious gift, and delighting in it for itself alone.

How much we 9-to-5 commuters abandon, and unnecessarily.

I don’t have room here for a thorough discussion of Sabbath theology; there’s a lot more to it, and there are whole books on the topic, from both sabbatarian and non-sabbatarian perspectives, and in each of these directly opposing views there are strengths and motivations to appreciate. Suffice it to say that it is a deeply important concept—and the reason it is important is that it is rooted in the doctrine of Creation.

If we have no Creator, we have no provider; we have no meaningful beneficence; and we have no assurance that there is one who loves us perfectly, knowledgeably, and wisely for time and for eternity.

Rest.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 3: The Flood

March 9, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: From the Beginning 

As Moses continues his narrative of beginnings, he comes quickly to an account of the Flood, God’s global judgment on human sin. Perhaps you’ve never noticed how thoroughly the flood account is imbued with Creation language.

The account begins with the observation that “man began to multiply on the face of the earth” (Gen 6.1)—which is a direct response to God’s command to multiply in Genesis 1.28. A few verses later (Gen 6.6), Moses states that God “repented” that he had made man on the earth. Thus Moses introduces the Flood as, in effect, God’s reversal of the Creation event: his Uncreation, if you will.

And so begins the account. God describes all the life he created in Genesis 1, using the same language: “man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air” (Gen 6.7)—“all flesh, wherein is the breath of life” (Gen 6.17). God orders Noah to preserve two of each of these life forms (Gen 6.20), specifying “male and female” (Gen 6.19).

As he continues his instructions, he specifies not just two, but fourteen–seven pairs–of the clean animals, again including both male and female (Gen 7.2), and specifying both beasts and fowl (Gen 7.2-3).

Sidebar: Some question why God specified 7 pairs of each clean beast—and some are completely unaware that this specification was even made. Why this command? Well, for starters, we’re told that upon exiting the ark, Noah made a large sacrifice (Gen 8.20), and after going to all that trouble to preserve breeding pairs, you don’t want to kill them. I also note that that dove eventually didn’t return to the ark (Gen 8.12). Further, I speculate that Noah and his family might have eaten some meat on the ark, and further, they may have wanted some breeding insurance for clean animals as the repopulation proceeded.

Back to our account.

As Noah and his family enter the ark, the Creation language is repeated (Gen 7.8-9). And then they wait for seven days until the rain starts (Gen 7.10). Is this intentionally matching the Creation week? Maybe.

Summarizing the entry into the ark, Moses recalls the Creation language of “after its / their kind” (Gen 7.14), “the breath of life” (Gen 7.15), and “male and female” (Gen 7.16). As the water rises and the death begins, Moses repeats the language: “of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth, and every man” (Gen 7.21, 23). He speaks further of “the face of the earth” (Gen 1.29) as the now-emptied home of animal life (Gen 7.23).

As the rain continues, “the waters prevailed, and were increased greatly upon the earth” (Gen 7.18). This too recalls Creation language; in the beginning the Spirit was on the face of the waters (Gen 1.2), and on the 2nd day God separated the land from the water. This gracious provision for life in the Creation week is now reversed; the means for life among land animals is removed, and all flesh “in whom is the breath of life” dies (Gen 7.22).

After the ark lands on dry ground, Noah waits for seven days (there’s that period again) to send out a dove (Gen 8.10), and another seven days (Gen 8.12) to sent it out (successfully) again. Is this an intentional doubling of the Creation week to imply the completeness of God’s restoration of his good Creation? I’m just suggesting this; we don’t have any way of being certain of the significance.

So on “the first day of the first month the waters were dried up from off the earth” (Gen 8.13)—for the second time (Gen 1.9-10). And into this new world “every living thing that is with thee, of all flesh, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth” emerge to “be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth” (Gen 8.17-18).

And the account closes by recounting God’s words: “seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease” (Gen 8.22).

Creation order is restored.

So we find that Creation and the Flood are intimately linked in the plan of God. In response to man’s sin, God undoes his miraculous creation—miraculously—and then returns it to its original state, despite the presence of sin. He shows his mercy more spectacularly than he did by creating humans to begin with. And he can do this, obviously, because he was capable of creating the cosmos in the first place.

Creation is the basis for mercy. It matters.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 2: From the Beginning

March 5, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

Moses himself, the author of the creation account, begins to interpret and apply it almost immediately. He finds his opportunity in two specific events: the initiation of the godly line, and the Great Flood.

After the account of the Fall (Gen 3) and the birth of Cain and Abel and Cain’s murder of Abel (Gen 4), Moses begins to trace the line of “the seed of the woman” (Gen 3.15). That line is clearly not through Abel, since he is dead and without any named offspring, and it’s clearly not Cain, the murderer and outcast (Gen 4.12), as his offspring Lamech demonstrates (Gen 4.23-24). So Eve has a third son, Seth (Gen 4.25), whose name means “to appoint,” implying that he is either “the seed of the woman” or the seed’s progenitor; indeed, shortly later “men began to call upon the name of the Lord” (Gen 4.26).

Moses chooses to begin chapter 5 by announcing a formal genealogy: “This is the book of the generations of Adam” (Gen 5.1). But at the beginning he chooses to spend some column inches on the birth of Seth, more than is usual in a genealogy. He begins by referring back to his creation account—specifically the key fact that Adam and Eve were created “in the likeness of God” (Gen 5.1). Borrowing almost precisely from his earlier language, he emphasizes that both Adam and Eve, both of whom are essential in producing the godly line, are created directly by God and are in his image (Gen 5.2). He even says that God “called their name Adam” (Gen 5.2), which sounds odd to us until we realize that the name “Adam” simply means “person” or “human” (e.g. Gen 2.5).

Now Moses applies that language to the birth of Seth:

And Adam … begat a son in his own likeness, after his image; and called his name Seth (Gen 5.3).

Likeness. And image. Just as God, so to speak, created “after his kind” (Gen 1.11), so Adam and Eve did as well. And this language is more specific than “after his kind”; it’s a mirror image in certain ways.

What’s the significance of this? It tells us that the image of God is not a “one-shot deal” effective for just a single generation or birth. It continues; Adam passes that image and likeness on to his offspring, who pass it on to theirs. We’re all, all of us, in that image and likeness.

We find evidences of that in later Scripture. The New Testament repeatedly describes man, or all mankind, as in the image and/or likeness of God (1Co 11.7; 15.49). It describes Christ as particularly in that image (2Co 3.18; 4.4; Co 1.15; He 1.3), and believers, who are “in Christ” (2Co 5.17), as further conformed to that image (Ro 8.29; 1Co 15.49; 2Co 3.18; Co 3.10).

I find it interesting that in the first reference to “image” in the New Testament, Jesus implies something further about its significance. In Matthew 22.20 and its Synoptic parallels (Mk 12.16; Lk 20.24), Jesus points out that since a coin bears the image of Caesar, it must belong to Caesar, and should be paid as a tax. What he does not say, but clearly has in mind, is that whatever bears the image of God—mankind—must then belong to God, and not to the state. We are his by right of creation, and he has marked us with his image—a brand, if you will—as visible evidence of that.

The first significance of creation, then—established from the very beginning—is that God is our Owner and Lord, whether we acknowledge that or not. I suspect that a significant motive in the invention of other creation stories is the desire to circumvent, even to suppress (Ro 1.18), that fundamental fact.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Why Creation Matters, Part 1: Introduction

March 2, 2026 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Some years back, I wrote a series here explaining why I am (still!) a young-earth creationist, even though more and more of the cool kids are eating at a different lunch table. In evangelical academia, most scholars, while rejecting the atheistic evolution of, say, Richard Dawkins or the late Stephen Jay Gould, Carl Sagan, or Christopher Hitchens, have adopted one of two theistic accommodations of evolutionary theory: either theistic evolution, typified by Biologos and its founder Frances Collins (most famous for his time as leader of the Human Genome Project, which produced a fully mapped human genome in 2003); or what I would call discontinuous or punctuated evolution, typified by Hugh Ross’s Progressive Creationism, which posits that God worked direct acts of creation at points along the timeline that natural processes could not account for. (Theistic evolutionists are generally nearly as dismissive of Progressive Creationism, labeling it a “god of the gaps” solution, as they are of Young Earth Creationism, which they view as uneducated and therefore ignorant.)

I think it’s noteworthy that although evangelical scholars are generally old-earth creationists, the same cannot be said of the folks in the pew, or even outside the church: a 2024 Gallup poll recorded the most popular view as “God created humans in their present form” (37%); slightly fewer held that “humans evolved, God guided” (34%); and fewer still held that “humans evolved, God had no part (24%).” (Compare an earlier Pew Research Center survey here.) This spread is remarkable, given that public education has promoted atheistic evolution exclusively for well over half a century. I wonder whether there is something inherent in humans that resists atheistic “solutions”; it’s almost as though one has to go to college to be pressured away from it.

At any rate, the earlier series represents my thinking on the “age of the earth” question. Here I’d like to broaden and refocus the discussion a bit.

Some years ago my colleague (and doppelganger, before I grew a beard) Dr. Bill Lovegrove challenged the BJU university body, in a chapel message, to search the Scriptures for passages after the creation account in Genesis 1-2 that refer back to that account and draw some sort of conclusion or application from the fact that God is the Creator. I did that, and I’d like to share the results of that study here. Bill’s a scientist (engineer), but what he suggested is in fact a biblical theological study, which is where my training is; it’s right down my alley.

So where does the Bible refer to God as the Creator, or to the creation event, and then apply that truth in some way to our thinking or behavior? You might be surprised at how frequently, and broadly, it does that. Such passages appear in every section of the Hebrew Scriptures, the Tanakh—the Law, the Prophets (Former and Latter), and the Writings. They appear in the New Testament as well—the writings of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, as well as the epistles of Paul, Peter, and the author of Hebrews, and the apocalyptic book of Revelation. That covers all the biblical genres, as well as the entire biblical timeline, from the earliest narrative in Genesis and the oldest biblical book (Job, I think) through the exilic and post-exilic writers (Jeremiah and Nehemiah) and through the New Testament from Matthew to Revelation.

Because of the wealth of biblical data, I suspect this will be a long series. And that’s kind of the point.

This is not some minor doctrine. Creation matters.

Next time, the earliest biblical data.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash