Shernren,
I disagree that a non-literal reading of genesis is "liberal". I'd like to know what makes you think that it is "liberal" to see Genesis as non-literal, and what makes it conservation to read it literally? I don't think those labels are appropriate at all but I'll wait to hear what you have to say first.
Bear in mind that I'm trying my best to use "conservative" and "liberal" as descriptive labels, not normative (i.e. "it's better to be conservative than liberal" or the other way around). So I'm not trying to say in a roundabout way that interpreting Genesis non-literally is baaaad; I'm just saying that's how liberals tend to do things.
I'll quote a passage from
Inspiration and Incarnation by Peter Enns that seems to address this issue quite thoroughly and holistically:
... Many of the ancient texts listed above [ANE myths, legal codes, and historiography] had the cumulative effect of casting serious doubt on the Bible's uniqueness vis-a-vis the ANE literature and the effects of this for revelation and inspiration. Also at stake were the related issues of historical accuracy, both with respect to the presence of ANE mythic parallels and the biased accounts of history in royal texts such as the Mesha Inscription. The end product of how modern biblical scholarship handled this new evidence was to present the Bible as more or less a purely human book. Sure, God (for those who even addressed the issue) can "speak" in the Bible - perhaps in the faraway echo of human voices expressing their ancient faith. But there is nothing like the traditional notion that God speaks to the church through time in these words. What modern biblical scholarship demonstrated was that the Bible shared many of the standards, concepts, and worldviews of its ANE neighbours. When they got down to it, there really wasn't anything about the Bible itself that made it all that special, and this seemed very inconsistent with conventional notions of inspiration and God speaking to us in the Bible today.
The newfound evidence for the cultural settings of the Bible led many to conclude that the Bible is essentially defined by these cultural factors. The "context of Scripture" became the primary determining factor in defining what the Bible is. That point of view had immediate doctrinal implications for evangelicals, irrespective of the fact that these implications were not always articulated by these scholars.
That is essentially the "liberal reaction" to the evidence that the Bible is "human". Enns then goes on to describe the conservatives' reaction; his comment about (perceived) uniqueness is particularly perceptive and helpful.
The conservatives' reaction was also problematic in that it implicitly assumed what their opponents also assumed: the Bible, being the word of God, ought to be historically accurate in all its details (since God would not lie or make errors) and unique in its own setting (since God's word is revealed, which implies a specific type of uniqueness). Rather than challenging these assumptions on a fundamental level, evangelicals adopted them, and so reaction was often intense. As mentioned earlier, conservatives have tended to employ a strategy of selective engagement, embracing evidence that seems to support their assumptions (such as might be done with Tel Dan and the Siloam Tunnel) but retreating from evidence that seems to undercut these assumptions (e.g. Enuma Elish, Code of Hammurabi). In other words, conservative scholarship, allowing modern scholarship to set the agenda while still trying to maintain older doctrinal commitments, was well positioned to listen to some evidence but not all.
He then talks about the historical situation and how it has led to today's scene:
To caricature somewhat, if historical context was everything for liberal scholars, regardless of its implications for Christian doctrine, for conservative scholars doctrine was everything, regardless of the historical evidence that challenged doctrine. This impasse defined much of the scholarly landscape for decades. Though there was an impasse, it is inaccurate to say that it was [remained?] a complete stalemate. Theories that once defined older liberalism gave way to newer theories. Also, there has been movement among evangelical scholars in that many routinely employ a variety of methods and draw certain conclusions that in previous generations were highly suspect.
Such a thing is inevitable, but the doctrinal implications of the Bible being so much a part of its ancient contexts are still not being addressed as much as they should. Many evangelical scholars do excellent historical work but do not always squarely address the doctrinal implications of their own findings. More than once, I have observed evangelical scholars pursue a line of argumentation about Genesis or some other topic, come close to drawing out the logical implications for how we understand the Bible, but then retreat to traditional, safe categories.
(all emphases in original)
If I may extend his observations, it is also all too possible for us to (rightly) focus on how important it is to read the Bible in its ancient historical context, but then fail to complete our job by drawing out doctrinal implications from that fact.
I'll summarize by borrowing some terms and ideas from Enns: just as God is both immanent and transcendent, the Bible is both immanent - steeped in the contemporary context of its writers and original hearers - and transcendent - containing wisdom able to edify people of all generations, even those far removed from its original hearers. Conservative scholarship tends to emphasize its transcendence, downplaying historical context (except where it helps to "prove the Bible's veracity"); liberal scholarship tends to emphasize its immanence, while running the risk of downplaying its transcendent wisdom that applies even to us today.