I can recite Genesis 1 in Hebrew, so I only have to close my eyes to “take a closer look”.
The “רָקִ֖יעַ” (rah-KEY-ah), given its root, can be translated as “a separation”, though the Greek “στερέωμα” (steh-REH-oh-ma) indicates that at the very least it had the property of being firm if not solid. The common use of “expanse” in English translations seem to hearken back to this root and give less credence to the Greek; combining their senses could give us “a firm expanse”, where “firm” does not have to be solid. And of course that leaves the question of just what the “waters” are, especially since some ancient Hebrew scholars regarded them as a primeval fluid which filled the universe and from which the Earth was formed or drawn out.
As for the moon, it is certainly a light in the sky; the Hebrew text doesn’t care where the light originates, it only indicates that light comes from the moon to the Earth. We speak the same way of light bulbs; we say there is light coming from the bulb and don’t bother to talk about electrons getting excited and giving off photons, and in fact we speak of light coming from a mirror even though we know it is reflected. Claiming the moon is not the actual source doesn’t just ignore the Hebrew text and its perspective, it ignores how humans think and speak of simple phenomena.
Only if we’re speaking of them scientifically. Though even in terms of science, we recognize that there is an expanse above us and that light comes from the moon to the Earth, so even though the writer isn’t speaking scientifically his broad brush strokes are correct.
A question: how much science do you find in Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees”? Given the poetic leaning of Genesis 1, it’s a fair parallel.
For those not familiaar with that poem:
Trees
By Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.