Genesis 1:1-5
War of the Worlds
Little
Julie came home from first grade one day soon after the school year had begun.
"Hi, Mommy, I’m home. … Mommy, where did I come from?"
Her mother was taken a bit off guard with the question. She
quickly thought back to her first grade experience and realized that biological
science was not part of the curriculum back then, but she put that aside and
forged ahead figuring that kids are just more advanced these days.
She began by talking about how two people fall in love,
decide to marry, and so on. There was some detail about reproductive anatomy
and physiology, but only as much as a six-year-old might comprehend.
Finally, after almost a half-hour of her best effort, she
asked, "Does that answer your question, sweetheart?"
Little Julie responded, "Well, I guess so. Jimmy, who
sits in front of me in class, he says he came from Chicago."
Questions about our origins are not
limited to six-year-olds, of course, and certainly not to the location of a
hometown. It was exactly 150 years ago,
that Charles Darwin wrote his now infamous book, On the Origin of the Species. And it was exactly 200 years ago that
Charles Darwin born. Darwin was born on February
12, 1809 – as
was Abraham Lincoln.
Darwin’s theory of evolution has been
challenged ever since. People took
sides. It created a sort of “War of the
Worlds!” with science on one side and religion on the other – each diametrically
opposed to the other. But isn’t that
limiting? Of course it is.
I am
reminded of a scene in The Lion King
where three buddies, a merekat, a warthog and a little lion cub, are lying out
under the big night sky, star gazing.
Pumba,
the warthog begins to theologize and asks, “Ever wonder what those sparkly dots
are up there?”
The
little lion king believes, as his father had taught him, that the stars are former
lion kings who have gone before him and now watch over him.
Timon,
the meerkat brags, “I don’t wonder. I know…they are fireflies. Fireflies that,
uh, got stuck up in that..uh…big…uh bluish black thing.”
“Gee,” Pumba reflects, “I always thought they
were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.”
To
which Timon responds to his friend, who has a well-known problem with
flatulence, “Pumba, with you everything is gas!”
Now,
I would like to think that while we are all intelligent, thinking people, we
are also people of faith. It can’t just be all about gas, can it? Of course not.
So
the question is, how can we read the Bible, even call it the Word of God, with
its stories of seven days of creation, how can we sing hymns about God as the
creator of ALL things and not compromise our scientific principles?
For
far too long, strident voices, in the name of Christianity, have been claiming
that people must choose between religion and modern science.
That
is one of the reasons why three years ago I joined eleven
thousand other clergy in signing “An Open Letter Concerning Religion and
Science,” which reads, in part:
“We...believe
that the timeless truths of the Bible and the discoveries of modern science may
comfortably coexist. We believe that the theory of evolution is a foundational
scientific truth, one that has stood up to rigorous scrutiny and upon which
much of human knowledge and achievement rests.
“To
reject this truth or to treat it as one theory among others is to deliberately
embrace scientific ignorance and transmit such ignorance to our children. We
believe that among God’s good gifts are human minds capable of critical thought
and that the failure to fully employ this gift is a rejection of the will of
our Creator....
“We
ask that science remain science and that religion remain religion, two very
different, but complementary, forms of truth.”
That
being said, is there a way we can reconcile faith and science?
Stephen
Jay Gould, who has written extensively about religion and science, offers a
fairly simple answer to this complex question that reflects the thinking of
many scientists and theologians—and is, in my mind, a good place to start.
His
answer would be that, no, there is not, and need not be, a conflict between
religion and science. Religion and science represent two different and distinct
ways of approaching reality. Put perhaps too simply, science covers the “how”;
religion covers the “why” of our existence.
This
is how he puts it: “To cite the old clichés, science gets the age of rocks, and
religion the rock of ages; science studies how the heavens go, religion how to
go to heaven.”
That’s
great, you say, but if we are to believe evolution, what are we to do with the
creation stories, like the one in our Old Testament reading this morning?
All
we need do is turn to the early church leaders.
The
great Biblical scholar and saint of the third century church, Origen, raised
doubt in the Christian community about the value of reading this particular
story from Genesis literally.
Origen
insisted that readers of the Bible must learn to distinguish between stories
that are true and factual (he sites the crucifixion of Jesus and the cleansing
of the temple) and those that are true and not factual.
Of
those he wrote, “Was there ever a Jew who was wounded by thieves and rescued by
a Samaritan; was there a particular son who left home and wasted his
inheritance? Who’s to know? More importantly, does it matter?
“The
power of these stories is independent of whether they actually happened in time
and space. They are true, in as much as they tell us something about human
nature and the will of God.”
Origen
refused to accept that light and darkness existed (the first day in the Genesis
creation account) before there were a sun and moon and stars (which were
created on the fourth day).
He
refused to believe that an all powerful and all knowing God took an evening
stroll in the Garden and that the maker of heaven and earth couldn’t find Adam
and Eve when they hid from him.
Origin
believed that these ‘absurdities’ as he called them, were hints that God wanted
these stories to be read in an all together different way, not as history but
as “truth in the semblance of history”, as he called it. Truth embedded in
metaphor, parable, poetry, fiction—true, even if not factual.
Today,
scientific knowing and other ways of knowing – intuition, imagination, and
faith – have been too easily cast into opposing camps.
Isn’t
that a shame? We gain nothing and lose too much by pitting theology and science
against each other. I don’t believe science is the enemy of theology and I
don’t believe that theology should take the place of science.
Science
and faith are intended by God to be complementary ways of knowing, not opposing
ways.
That’s
why Timon, Pumba, and Simba can all be “right” in what they “know” from the
heavens. Three ways of knowing.
Clueless
Pumba possesses the scientific knowledge that describes the physical reality,
as best as science has been able to describe it.
Timon,
despite his obvious closed-minded pride, has an imaginative knowledge that, if
he controls his pride, can animate creativity.
And
Simba, the Lion King, has the truth of faith, a deeper knowing that speaks to a
spiritual reality.
The truth is, theology and science are
related, but different, like oranges and apples. I believe that theology does
in fact teach us the ‘whys’ of the world and science teaches us the ‘hows’. I
believe that they offer different kinds of truths both of which are
needed.
I
believe that scripture’s truth is given in many forms and formats: history,
poetry, parable, myth, visions, metaphor and always through the lens of life as
we know it.
I
believe that science should be taught in classrooms and laboratories and
theology taught in homes and church and Sunday School classes.
The Bible is a gift from, and was
inspired by God. But so is our intelligence and our ability to learn the
true nature of the physical laws that make our universe work. Science and
religion were meant to work together.
Here is how I take it. As a Christian I
believe in God, and that God created everything in the world, and there is a
way that God did it. And there is a reason God did it the way God did it. But,
what I think or what you think doesn’t alter one little bit the truth of how it
all actually went down. So whatever science uncovers about the created world… it can only
reveal a snippet of that truth. Any window that science OR theology opens can only be a view
into the Truth as to what God accomplished. There is nothing to be fearful of.
If science discovers life on another planet… if science discovers there were
four little bangs that preceded the big bang, if science discovers that people evolved directly
from platypuses and not apes… that won’t shake my faith one little bit… I will
just want to ask, what was God thinking… why did God choose to do it like that?
How does Jesus’ death and resurrection relate to the redemption of the space
creatures? Are they blessed with free will? Are they too plagued with sin?
You see, I trust that the open and fair
discussion of any theological idea or scientific data can only lead to eventual
insights into the truth as God designed it. Science can never embarrass my faith with a new
discovery, nor will my faith lead me to reject an empirically verifiable
scientific conclusion. Both enterprises should embrace an atmosphere of
confident openness and exploration.
So I
would like to suggest that we never fear to know whatever God allows us to know
and always distrust restrictions on learning.
May
we trust enough to liberate the classroom from theology and faithful enough to
liberate the Creator from science.
And
may we always celebrate together (and in our hearts) the One who is in and
beyond science, in and beyond scripture, in and beyond us and all creation.
Amen!