The notion of separating elements in ANE (Ancient Near Eastern) cosmologies is not uncommon. In Egyptian texts, for example, the Heliopolis Creation Myth and the Pyramid Texts, the process of creation develops with the milieu of the formless Primeval Waters. At the moment of creation, Atum is ‘floating’ in these waters as a seed of undeveloped matter. Creation here involves the distinction between this primordial mass and the surrounding waters. The Genesis account also contains this notion of separation that is inherent to the concept of covenant. The Hebrew word, berit, as seen earlier, is most used with the verb ‘to cut’ and therefore contains the concept of cutting or separation. It is from the presence of this notion of separation that I would like to argue that there is an ontological presence of covenant inherent to the created order. We could say that it appears to have a meaning in this text, and because it is a story of origins, it is meant to convey the idea that this meaning is inherent to the creation.

A survey of the structure of the creation in Genesis 1 will serve to illustrate how separation as meaning is inherent to the creation. Separation is already present within the first five words of the Hebrew text. There is a net distinction or separation between the Creator and the creation. This is foundational to Jewish cosmology, as was seen earlier, and shows how interrelated these covenantal horizons are. The listener-reader is meant to understand that separation or distinctions are fundamental to this origin story and so they will be important to the understanding of the created world. Death and life, and gods and the created order, are not mixed as in other ANE³ cosmologies.

The Jewish philosopher-theologian Jonathan Sacks observes that the Hebrew verb ‘to separate’, lehavdil, appears five times in Genesis 1 (Gn 1:2, 6, 7, 14, 18). God separates light from darkness, the upper waters from the lower waters and the sea from the dry land, the day from the night. Why is this important, and what possible meaning is being conveyed here? Sacks argues that when we separate, we create order. We give space to everyone and everything, and we recognise basic distinctions between the self and the other (Sacks 2010). This is the starting point of alterity. Alterity is ‘the state of being other or different’ (Proffitt 2024). It is an ontological concept. This is the reason that we can argue that since the notion of alterity is present in the Jewish origin story and is specified by the word ‘to separate’, we already find a central notion of berit, ‘to cut’, here in the creation account. For this reason, the argument can be made that the covenant concept is already present as meaning within creation, in this case, as the notion of alterity.

In what sense can we speak of meaning in relation to separation and alterity here? Sacks (2010) is again helpful at this point. He states that until this basic separation has occurred, it is not possible to unite without potentially doing damage to one another. In this sense, the Genesis narrative and its repeated notion of separation state that within the created order separation already exists, that basic distinctions are part of created reality and are necessary for human existence to facilitate relationship. An ontological monism within reality, in which distinctions are either non-existent or are not accounted for, makes it difficult to establish relationship without the risk of damaging the other.

What is so profound about the Genesis creation account is that it does not place separation alone as intrinsic to the created order. The same basic created elements that are separated in the Genesis narrative are also joined back together in pairs on each of the 6 days. In this sense, there is no foundational element of the created order that finds itself in a radically autonomous state. In the created order, things exist in relationship, according to the text. So, while there is ontological distinction and/or alterity in the narrative, there is also ontological relationality.

More than one scholar⁴ has noted that the pre-history creation narrative of the Hebrew Scriptures provides an intellectual and cultural framework for understanding covenant. As Clouser states, the Genesis narration is not science in any way; the concerns of the text are covenantal and should even be read as a prologue to, and as part of, the covenant given to Moses at Mt. Sinai (Clouser 2005:118). What follows in the narrative is a series of separations, divisions that take place, each one on successive days. On the first, there is the division of the light into day and night; on the second, the division of the water expanse into sea and atmosphere; on the third, the division of the waters into the sea and the earth with its vegetation; on the fourth, the division of the heavens into sun and moon/stars; on the fifth, a division of sea life and birds and on the sixth, a division of animals and humankind.

There is a clear pattern of separation, yet a clear harmonious and complementary duality represented in the pairs established within their domains that the narrative establishes a pattern of separation and binding. Covenant is separation and binding together. Separation and binding are covenant. The ‘ordering’ of the confusion and emptiness results in a type of separation and binding, with each partner in the new pair given a domain within which it is free to function; there is a respect for boundaries and a limit that is not to be breached. Even more importantly, a pattern of relationality is being established in the narrative as it relates to the ontological reality humans are meant to exist in. There is no self-referential being represented in the narrative, but a concrete reality composed of entities whose origin is Absolute, and that relate to and have their meaning revealed through their relationality within the physical order. In this origins story, relation characterises physical reality. All of these ‘partnerings’ are considered ‘good’ (i.e. complete, integrated, or whole), but there is still something lacking, for something in the second of the two creation narratives (Gn 2) is declared ‘not good’. It is the aloneness of the human, or in ontological terms, the lack of ontological alterity and the possibility of being in partnership.

To further reiterate the presence of covenant, that is, of separation and binding, as inherent to the meaning of the created order, I would like to highlight Walton’s insight into what he calls the functional aspect of this created order. His emphasis is on reading the Genesis creation text as concerned with the functional rather than the material origins. Whatever is created is done so for a specific purpose, which implies that there is meaning present. He reflects on what transpires on the first 3 days of the creation account, in which ‘day and night’, ‘the waters above and below’ and ‘water and dry land/vegetation’ are separated on days one, two and three, respectively. Why were these entities separated? Walton (2009) states:

Without the separation and binding together of these entities, time, weather and food would not be possible. A merely differentiated creation would not provide the means necessary to sustain life for animals and eventually humankind. Light was separated from darkness, establishing the ‘time’ system and so the sun and the moon both had to function together in harmony, thus marking the passing of time. Day 2 separates and differentiates cosmic space. The waters above and below were separated, allowing for precipitation to sustain life.⁵ Both aspects are needed for proper functioning. And finally, day 3 differentiates terrestrial space. Dry land appears so that food can grow, and the seeds cannot grow without the presence of the seas and the rains that they bring. Without the binding together after the separation, order cannot be achieved, and the created order would not reflect its true meaning. This is the covenant pattern we found earlier in berit.

This same pattern will emerge in reverse order when a crisis leads God to return the cosmos to an unordered, non-functional state by means of a flood (Gn 8). The cosmic waters are let loose from their boundaries, and again the earth becomes non-functional and uninhabitable. What follows is a re-creation text as the land emerges again from the waters, and the blessing is reiterated. The Creator makes a promise in Genesis 8:22: ‘As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease’.

Walton points out that we have the same three dualities in reverse order: food, weather and time, which will never again cease (Walton: 59). The author of the text seems aware that these are the main categories in the operation of this world that God has created and to which He has given meaning, and here it is again related to covenant. The first actual appearance of the word covenant is related to the aftermath of the Noahic flood, when God establishes a covenant with Noah and his offspring and all the living creatures, promising never to cause the created order to cease functioning according to its purpose (Gn 9:8–17).

We are exploring the nature of the ontological horizon of covenant as it pertains to the creation account in the Hebrew Scriptures. Because we are dealing with issues of ontology as they relate to covenant, it is fitting that we explore these issues from within the Jewish account of origins, from the early chapters of Genesis. The second question related to the ontological horizon of covenant seeks to situate covenant in relation to political structures. Covenant, as used by Hobbes, Rousseau, Locke and Althusius, was placed in the middle of intensely important political and social debates that would determine the future of their cultures for decades.⁶ The need to understand whether a framework for social relations can be located in a pre-political space is certainly relevant to the challenges many countries are facing, such as France, Canada and the Netherlands, as they grapple with immigration and important identity issues, especially religious.

To introduce this discussion, I will make use of what has been termed Böckenförde’s dilemma, which, although it deals with the conditions necessary for a constitutional democratic state to renew itself, can help to bring clarity to the ontological position of covenant in relation to the State. He states, ‘The liberal and secularised State lives by normative prerequisites which it cannot guarantee itself’ (Böckenförde 1976:60). In his view, the liberal secular State relies on democratic convictions of its citizens and cannot enforce those convictions itself. He sees the danger of absolutism when the State attempts to defend democracy through legal coercion and decrees from authority, infringing upon the idea of the people as sovereign. This dilemma was first proposed in the 1960s, and Böckenförde further explained his position in 2010 when he stated that the liberal, secular state needs a unifying ethos, a ‘sense of community’ among those who live in this state. He went on to ask, ‘What is creating this ethos, which can neither be enforced by the state nor compelled by a sovereign?’ (Böckenförde 2009).

In 2004, Jürgen Habermas and the then Cardinal Ratzinger engaged in a dialogue on ‘The Pre-Political Moral Foundations of a Free State’, starting from Böckenförde’s dilemma. Habermas founded his response on the practical reason of a post-metaphysical, secular thinking, while Ratzinger argued that ‘we have the reality, antecedent to every rational societal decision that may be taken, of man as a creature who receives his life from his Creator’ (Ratzinger & Habermas 2006:15–16). Habermas argues that the liberal state can satisfy its own need for legitimacy in a self-sufficient manner, that is, based on the cognitive elements of a stock of arguments that are independent of religious and metaphysical conditions (Ratzinger & Habermas 29). He sees the uniting bond as the democratic process itself and the communicative praxis in it (Ratzinger & Habermas 32). Ratzinger points out that in the process of encounter and mutual penetration at a global level, ethical certainties that had previously provided solid foundations have largely disintegrated. For him, the question of what the ‘good’ is goes largely unanswered. Science can show only partial aspects of human existence, so something more is needed (Ratzinger & Habermas 56–57). To find a grounding for his proposal, Ratzinger and Habermas (2006) see the need for:

At the same time, Ratzinger is sceptical about the possibilities of a rational, ethical or religious formula that would embrace the whole world and unite all persons. He says, ‘It does not exist; or at least, it is unattainable at the present moment’ (Ratzinger & Habermas 2006:76).

The Habermas-Ratzinger dialogue illustrates not only the need for a unifying common ground for understanding what exists pre-politically for the human but also the need to account for alterity. While Böckenförde is concerned with the preconditions necessary for a secular state to remain democratic under a sovereign people, this article asks a similar but different question that relates to where the covenant exists ontologically in relation to the State. To Böckenförde’s dilemma, I would add the words ‘pluralist’ and ‘united’. By united is meant the underlying ethos of a national culture, its mutuality as expressed through its shared values, principles and ideals, as well as the individual commitment to them expressed through social relations. So, the amended Böckenförde’s dilemma would read, ‘The liberal, secular pluralist and united state lives on premises it cannot itself guarantee’. Therefore, what exists pre-politically to nurture an ethos of alterity and unity (the separation and binding of covenant) necessary for human flourishing? What does the State allow space for, or recognise as important to fostering a climate of otherness, of diversity and at the same time of the centrality of human relations lived out in freedom?

Böckenförde’s dilemma, therefore, tangentially applies to the ontological status of the covenant as well. If a covenant is merely a creation of the liberal, secular state, it is subject to the dictums and coercion of the State necessary to guarantee its existence. At the same time, how does a State enforce an ethos of otherness (in the sense of integrated diversity) or of unity through human relationships, without becoming absolutist? For this reason, it is necessary to insist on the pre-political status of covenant as a normative ontological reality that is inherent to human existence and flourishing, that must be recognised and nurtured by the State and that exists in its most basic form as alterity and relation (separation and binding).

The Genesis account also shows the result of ignoring this basic ontological reality through the Babel story (Gn 11:1–9). We might refer to it as Böckenförde’s nightmare come true. While the Genesis creation account is foundational for covenantal thinking and ordering for human identity and relation with the world around the human, the Babel episode speaks of a larger macro-level world of human relations that has lost its way. The preconditions for building a just society are weak at best. Already the narrative has evidenced a radical decline in the human condition: ‘every inclination of the human heart is evil’ (Gn 8:21). For this reason, just before the covenant is introduced in its particular form, with Abraham in the Genesis narrative, the account of the story of Babel appears. We already see the earliest expression of covenant in Genesis 9, where the keyword, repeated seven times, changes from ‘good’ (Gn 1) to ‘covenant’. When we call something good, we are speaking about how it is. But when we speak of covenant, we are talking about relationships (Sacks 2017). God is going to re-create the world, as it were, of a covenant and this time in a more explicit form of the concept. So, Babel serves to provide a stark contrast for what is about to be introduced in an explicit form, a covenant, a form that will grow and evolve over time as it is adapted to ever-changing circumstances in the life of the nation of Israel.

The Babel story speaks about universal political visions, for all political messianic visions contain the urge to create a universal language that would serve as the basis for some form of inter-communal language. Moreover, from the perspective of the Genesis narrative, human attempts at a universal monoculture could only result in the self-divinisation of the people leading such attempts; this certainly is the case with most totalitarian movements in history. Novak (1995) expresses the effect of this totalitarian thinking in the following way:

He characterises Babel as the attempt to develop a neutral international language that is not rooted in any culture, one like Esperanto, and therefore with no real speakers. In a sense, Babel is also the eradication of the self through the universalising of culture by its very elimination, rooted in a transcendence that is not otherness but human divinisation. The amended Böckenförde’s dilemma is evidenced in embryonic form here in Babel. Diversity and alterity are eliminated in the name of a totalitarian unity that is enforced and not based on normative human relationships.

Sacks adds the importance of the technological discovery in the narrative – in this case, the ability to make bricks by drying clay – as foundational to the self-divinisation of the leaders in the Babel story. Humans have become masters over nature, able to control it and apply this to the construction of a tower that represents the structure of the cosmos over which they rule. It results in the attempt to impose an artificially created unity on divinely created diversity (Sacks 2003:52). We also see this in Bauman’s description of later modernity as the liquid society (Bauman 2004). It is a totalitarianism, repeated in history from antiquity to the present, to which the covenant provides a stark contrast. In covenantal understanding, any artificial unity imposed on earth from below suffocates human creativity and diversity, and politically can ultimately produce war, whereas transcendent unity produces diversity on earth with the concrete possibility for human communication and cooperation, as well as unfathomable diversity. Babel takes on the flavour of monism – social, cultural, epistemological and ontological. It is a vision of humanity without limits, and thus a humanity that loses its own identity, for there are no more counterparts; there is only conformity or exclusion.