Blog Tour Kicks Off

The blog tour of The Evolution of Adam kicks off today with an intro post by me on why I wrote the book in the first place.

“Many Christians are looking for ways to think clearly, deliberately, and differently about evolution and the Bible. There are several angles one can take to talk about this (e.g., theological, philosophical), and they all come into play. But I feel the most pressing issue Christians face is the hermeneutical one: if evolution is true, what do I do about what the Bible says about Adam and Eve?”

To read the entire post, click here.

Once More, With Feeling: Adam, Evolution and Evangelicals

If evolution is right about how humans came to be, then the biblical story of Adam and Eve isn’t. If you believe, as evangelicals do, that God himself is responsible for what’s in the Bible, you have a problem on your hands. Once you open the door to the possibility that God’s version of human origins isn’t what actually happened — well, the dominoes start unraveling down the slippery slope. The next step is uncertainty, chaos and despair about one’s personal faith.

The rest of the article can be found here on the Huffington Post.

Evangelicalism and Evolution ARE in Serious Conflict (and that’s not the end of the world)

[The following is adapted from the conclusion of  The Evolution of Adam: What the Bible Does and Doesn’t Say about Human Origins and is somewhat modified for blog consumption.]

There are two kinds of thinking that get in the way of the conversation evangelicals need to have over evolution.

One is exemplified by those who see red, cry “liberal,” and retreat to their safe doctrinal bunker with their fingers in their ears humming “la la la la la I do not hear you.”

The other type is exemplified by those on the other side of the spectrum, but whose thinking is just as harmful. They claim that there is no real conflict between evolution and Christianity. The two can get along quite well, with perhaps a minor adjustment or two—nothing to lose sleep over.

The former approach is obscurantist and stubborn; latter is theologically superficial. Both cause spiritual damage.

One advantage that the first group has over the second is the frank admission that evolution poses a serious challenge to how Christians have traditionally understood at least three central issues of the faith: the origin of humanity, of sin, and of death. That is true.

I argue in my book that sin and death are undeniable universal realities whether or not we are able to attribute them to a primordial man who ate from the wrong tree. The Christian tradition, however, has generally attributed the cause to sin and death to the first human, Adam. Evolution claims that the cause of sin and death, as Paul understood it, is not viable. That leaves open the questions of where sin and death come from.

More than that, the very nature of what sin is and why people die is turned on its head. Some behaviors that Christians have thought of as sinful are understood in an evolutionary scheme as means of ensuring survival—for example, the aggression and dominance associated with “survival of the fittest” and sexual promiscuity to perpetuate one’s gene pool.

Likewise, in an evolutionary scheme death is not the enemy to be defeated. It may be feared, it may be ritualized, it may be addressed in epic myths and sagas; but death is not the unnatural state introduced by a disobedient couple in a primordial garden. Actually, it is the means that promotes the continued evolution of life on this planet and even ensures workable population numbers. Death may hurt, but it is evolution’s ally.

So, I repeat my point: evolution cannot simply be grafted onto evangelical Christian faith as an add-on, where we can congratulate ourselves on a job well done. This is going to take some work—and a willingness to take theological risk.

Evolution demands true synthesis: a willingness to rethink one’s own convictions in light of new data, and that is typically a very hard thing to do.

The cognitive dissonance created by evolution is considerable, and I understand why either avoidance or theological superficiality might be attractive. But in the long run, the price we pay for not doing the hard and necessary synthetic work is high indeed.

Evangelicals are a defensive lot, tending to focus on the need to be faithful to the past, to make sure that present belief matches that of previous generations. I get the point, but we must be just as burdened to be faithful to the future, to ensure that we are doing all we can to deliver a viable faith to future generations. That too is a high calling. Ignoring reality or playing theological games won’t do—no matter how unsettling, destabilizing, perhaps frightening such a calling may be.

Such a journey must be taken, for the alternatives are not pleasant. Christians can turn away, but the current scientific explanation of cosmic and biological origins is not going away, nor is our growing understanding of the nature of Israelite faith in its ancient Near Eastern context. I do not believe that God means for his children to live in a state of denial or hand-wringing.

Likewise, abandoning all faith in view of our current state of knowledge is hardly an attractive—or compelling—option. Despite the New Atheist protestations of the bankruptcy of any faith in God in the face of science, most world citizens are not ready to toss away what has been the central element of the human drama since the beginning of recorded civilization.

Neither am I, not because I refuse to see the light, but because the light of science does not shine with equal brightness in every corner. There is mystery. There is transcendence. By faith I believe that the Christian story has deep access to a reality that materialism cannot provide and cannot be expected to know.

That is a confession of faith, I readily admit, but when it comes to accessing ultimate reality, we are all in the same boat, materialistic atheists included: at some point we must all say, “I can see no further than here, comprehend no more than this.”

As for evangelicals, perhaps evolution will eventually wind up being more of a help than a hindrance. Perhaps it will remind us that our theologies are provisional; when we forget that fact, we run the risk of equating what we think of God with God himself. That is a recurring danger, and the history of Christianity is replete with sad and horrific stories of how theology is used to manipulate and maintain power over others.

It may be that evolution, and the challenges it presents, will remind us that we are called to trust God, which means we may need to restructure and even abandon the “god” that we have created in our own image. Working through the implications of evolution may remind Christians that trusting God’s goodness is a daily decision, a spiritually fulfilling act of recommitment to surrender to God no matter what.

That’s not easy. But if we have learned anything from the saints of the past, it is that surrendering to God each day, whatever we are facing, is not meant to be easy. Taking up that same journey now will add our witness for the benefit of future generations.

It is time to stop playing games.

 

Video Interview #1: The Evolution of Adam

Here is the first video interview done by Brazos Press for The Evolution of Adam.

No, this was not filmed in a bunker, but in a hotel in San Francisco in November while I was in town for the annual geek fest men in tweed Bible scholar conference, Society of Biblical Literature.



What God Thinks of the Theology Books We Write

 

What we think of the theology books we write:

Well, I’ve worked for years on this, and I have to say I think I nailed it. It’s not perfect, but I am sure this will be a lasting contribution to thinking Christians everywhere. It’s a thoughtful piece that raises many pressing, indeed, perennial issues, that have not been addressed quite as clearly as I do here.

You’re welcome.

What God thinks (as told through dramatic metaphor):

Five year old: Daddy, do you like my picture?

Father: [Dear God, if there is a God, have mercy on me and tell me what this random series--if series is even the right word--of lines and squiggles is supposed to be. Please. Help. Me.] Ah….woooooow! That’s A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

Five Year Old: Can you tell what it is? [no clue what's happening]

Father: [Merciful and Almighty God. I do not know what this is. Either tell me or make it stop. I will promise you anything.] Of COURSE.  Yeah.  It’s a cccaaaa….

Five Year Old: [slightly puzzled but not discouraged] It’s a reindeer in a boat.

Father: [Capricious God, was I asking too much? A little help. Still, not too bad. Damage control time.] Sure. Here are the antlers…and look…it’s nose…and there is the outboard motor…..and that’s the water, right?

Five Year Old: That’s the sail.

Father: [A sail? Why didn't you warn me to leave well enough alone?] Oh, riiiight. The sail.

Five Year Old: Isn’t that a great picture, Dad.

Father: It’s beAUTiful. I love it. And everyone else who sees it will love it, too. Let’s hang it up on the fridge to make sure everyone sees it. Everyone needs to see this picture of a …reindeer…in a boat….

Five Year Old: ….with a sail.