Categories
Science & Technology Spirituality Theology

Stackhouse on Creation and Evolution

An older, but equally excellent, Stackhouse post that mirrors much of my own thinking:

First this:

There are only two respects, then, in which “creation versus evolution” makes sense: first, when certain Christians insist that “creation” must mean “creation science” and thus rule out any divine use of evolution; and, second, when certain evolutionists insist that “evolution” must mean only what Darwin thought it meant, namely naturalistic or atheistic evolution. For then, of course, “creation versus evolution” really amounts to “theism versus atheism.” Put this way, however, we should recognize that we are dealing now with a religious and philosophical issue, not a scientific one. Science cannot, in the nature of the case, rule out God as somehow supervising evolutionary processes.

.. and then this:

Maybe evolution, theistic or otherwise, can explain all these things–as Christian Francis Collins believes just as firmly as atheist Richard Dawkins believes. But we must allow that evolution has not yet done so.

And that’s a pretty important set of allowances to make—as the ID proponents, as well as the creation science people, rightly insist. Indeed, the late evolutionist Stephen Jay Gould himself agreed, sufficiently so that he and Niles Eldredge postulated “punctuated equilibrium” as a theory to explain the last problem on that list. The creation science and ID people simply aren’t wrong about everything—and their opponents would do well to heed their criticisms, even if they hate their alternative theories.

All of this is right on, IMHO, and it echoes on of Stackhouse’s themes about epistemology and apologetics, which I greatly appreciate: it’s ok to say “I don’t know” sometimes.

The fact, which we evangelicals need to face, is that the basic outlines of contemporary evolutionary theory seem to be sound. All of life does indeed seem to be genetically linked, the amazing and beautiful facts of how genetics operate show that organisms can and do change over time, and contemporary evolutionary theory seems to provide sound explanations for what we find in the record of life on earth.

However, the grand narrative of evolution with a capital-E is inferential and does not in itself account for some important beliefs and affirmations that Christian theology brings to the epistemic table. The evolution-with-a-capital-E metanarrative raises very important questions about “chance,” God’s action in the natural world, and, probably most importantly, about human nature and sin, in ways that seem to require some “push back” or dialectical tension / conversation with theology. So, it seems to me, we have an obligation not to dismiss or ignore basic and well-established principles of how life on earth ordinarily works, but at the same time we do not have an obligation to accept the entire evolutionary meta-narrative. Did God “intervene” at some key points in life’s development? How exactly do Christian affirmations about the uniqueness of humanity, sin, and “the Fall” relate to the ordinary development of life on earth? We don’t know exactly — and that’s ok — we’re not obligated to resolve either end of this tension or to state what we hold and affirm about all aspects of it in stark “either-or” terms. All we really have to admit is that we’re limited in what we can say for sure about how this all works together.

Categories
Poetry Spirituality Uncategorized

Peach Trees

Peach trees grew here years ago,
when the summer days flowed like a lazy river.
They let cool nectar run down their chins,
unworried that the garden would yield to muddy March ground,
trampled by growing children not yet born.

Now the dried out stumps of broken peach trees
mark a line the grass dared not cross,
rich loam meant for deeper roots and
heavy branches thick with fruit.

We will plant something here again.
This patch will glow green once more,
and we will eat the warmth of the summer sun,
until our time in the garden passes
and the ground is ripe with growing children not yet born.

Categories
Culture Spirituality Theology

Everyday Journal

During exams I got behind in my blogging and failed to mention the latest issue of The Everyday Journal.  Among other notable articles is this interview with Brian McLaren by Thom Turner.  An excerpt from the interview:

If I want to see change in the world, the change needs to begin in myself. If I want to see the world become more peaceful, for example, I need to become a person of peace. If I want the world to become less consumptive, I need to become more self-disciplined, and so on. So, to be the change we want to see in the world, we need spiritual practices that help us change. If you imagine a bunch of greedy people trying to make the world more generous, or a bunch of bitter people trying to make the world more forgiving, you see the folly of seeking local, national, or global change without paying attention to spiritual formation.

And this reflection by Meagan on finder herself changed forever after missionary work in Alaska: “even today, talking to my friends from SEND of Alaska’s Summer Missionary Program (SMP) sometimes reminds me of what I imagine an AA meeting to be like.”

As well as much other excellent stuff!

Categories
Historical Theology Spirituality Theology

Eucharistic Baptists?

The evanglical / sort-of-Baptist church I attend had a “liturgical” service today.  It really spoke to me!  I think it’s so great to connect with the historic traditions and confessions of the Church — the Apostle’s Creed (or a Baptist version of it?!!) and a eucharist in which everyone comes forward to identify with the body and blood of Christ.  This is exactly the kind of service I’ve been looking for — contemporary worship mixed with historic confession and observance of the Lord’s Supper, but still with a Biblical sermon. 

In fact, I’d be interested to explore and push a little further how we treat the eucharistic meal in the economy of salvation.  Growing up in evangelical / fundamental / pietistic churches, I’ve always heard the communion meal prefaced with some statement about how communion doesn’t have anything to do with salvation.  The churches I grew up in were eager to distance themselves from what they (mis)understood to the the Roman Catholic view on the eucharist as sacrament — actually the closed Bretheren church I went to as a little kid was hatefuly anti-Catholic — but even then I felt the “communion merely as rememberance” view was unsatisfying. 

I wonder if it isn’t time for us as evangelicals to recapture the Patristic and Reformational view of the eucharist as something more mystical than merely a remembrance — or maybe I should say, to reinfuse the term “remembrance” with soteriological meaning.  I like Calvin’s view that salvation comes by grace alone mediated by faith as a gift of the Holy Spirit — and so the eucharistic meal is not a “means of grace” in the Roman sense of it — but that partaking in the eucharist is a kind of sign and seal of faith.  I think that the Baptistic evangelical tradition has gone too far in the direction of defining faith as internal experience — we’ve over-reacted to more sacramental forms of the faith.  Internal experience, IMHO, is important, but highly variable and also highly unreliable — particularly for people like me who struggle sometimes with anxiety, depression, doubt, etc.  The fact that someone stands up in front of the congregation and receives the bread and cup is itself an expression and act of faith — and something very real and mysterious happens at the spiritual level in that moment.  (I want to use the phrase “soteriological meaning” above not to signify a sacrament that is required for salvation, but to understand participation in the eucharist as part of what happens along the “way of salvation” — part of the process of the saved / “being saved” // already / not yet of life in Christ).
 
I’m not sure if Calvin ever went in this direction, but I’m kind of thinking of a pneumatological theology of the eucharist.  When someone takes the elements in faith, the Holy Spirit is present to that person and in the gathered community of faith in a special way, supplying, confirming, reinforcing, directing, invigorating faith.  I wonder if this is a sort of evangelical way forward from a kind of stale view of the eucharist without getting in to the question of the “real presence” in either its Catholic or Lutheran versions.  I wonder, if by understanding the Holy Spirit to be present in a special way when the elements are taken in faith, we are able to recite the actual text of scripture:  “this is my body, broken for you” “this cup ???????? ????? ????????is the new covenant in my blood” without having to get into the ontological status of the physical elements.
Categories
Spirituality

Virginia Tech Murders

I haven’t posted on the Virginia Tech murders because the event is so horrible that I honestly don’t know what to say. I think anything I might try to say would be trite and opportunistic. I think all anyone can say right now is that we’re praying for everyone touched by this terrible evil.

Categories
Science & Technology Spirituality Theology

Kicked off of Uncommon Descent Again; an Open Letter

An the ASA list, we have been discussing a post by Denyse O’Leary, on the Uncommon Descent ID blog maintained by her and Bill Dembski, which quoted from another thread on the ASA list.

I was very upset by Ms. O’Leary’s blog post because the thread it referred to from ASA list was started by someone with some honest doubts and questions about the relation of faith and science. Several people on the ASA list, including myself, tried to respond to that person in ways we thought might be helpful (and indeed I still hope they were helpful). Hey, we’re all in this exciting but sometimes nerve-wracking boat ride together.

I posted a comment on Uncommon Descent expressing my concern about this (actually my comment got unintentionally triple-posted because it was originally stuck in a spam filter). My biggest concern was what I perceived as a lack of sensitivity to the person who orginally was some thoughtful and troubling questions of us here on the ASA list. I then followed up on a couple of other comments relating to Aquinas and secondary causes.

My reward for this was to be summarily banned from Uncommon Descent — once again.

I would be lying if I were to say that I don’t care about being banned from Uncommon Descent. I do care, mostly because I’m an intense and competitive guy with an overly active sense of fairness. In another sense, I don’t really care — like the rest of us, I really should spend my time on more productive things than arguing with people on blogs (or email lists) anyway. So, yes, I’m ticked — but I’m not crying in my milk. I’ve been kicked out of fancier joints, I guess.

But what I care about most is Truth and the Kingdom of God. I don’t claim any great insight into either except for whatever grace God has given me. And in my humble estimation, the kind of thing represented by Denyse’s “Letter” and the resulting hoo-ha in the comments thereto advances neither.

I’ve no desire to step into yet another online culture war spitting match. Yet, I’d like the record to reflect my requests and thoughts about this to Ms. O’leary and Bill Dembski. Hopefully someone will take them to heart. So, I offer below for the record the comments I offered to them.

In doing this, I also append a little disclaimer: I do not consent to the quoting or reproduction of these comments in any forum unless they are reproduced in full. To do otherwise would be dishonest. Hopefully that’s scary coming from a lawyer.

Herewith the text of my letter:

Denyse and Bill,

I would love to have the opportunity to continue commenting on UD, but it seems that Bill has permanently banned me. Bill, I’d be most grateful if you’d remove that ban, or at least explain to me why it was made. I was certainly critical of Denyse’s post, but I think my criticism was fair and justified. Further, I think the point about secondary causes and Aquinas was a fair one.

I would at least like the opportunity to continue the discussion on secondary causes, which I think is an important one. Given your own recent post about “directed evolution,” Bill, I’d think you’d agree that the discussion of secondary causes and Aquinas could be helpful. You’ve stated publicly that people who believe in “directed evolution” are ID people. I, then, am an ID person, for that is what I believe, within the specific framework of Christian theology as informed by Aquinas and mediated by folks such as Torrance and McGrath.

Denyse, my biggest problem with your post was that it seemed terribly insensitive to the person who originally asked a genuine question about doubt on the ASA list. You apparently didn’t read the ASA list carefully enough, because half of what you attributed to George Murphy came from the person struggling with doubt, not from George. A number of people on the ASA list tried to offer helpful comments to this person, including myself, as my post on UD shows. Whether George’s specific comments were good or not could be debated (personally I very much appreciate George’s kenotic perspective on creation), but you did a grave disservice to everyone involved by simply yanking out a few lines as you did.

Do you have any problem, Denyse of Bill, with the resources I proposed to the doubting person? Do they suggest in any way the sort of capitulation to materialist philosophy or theological softness that you attribute in your post? Does recommending Angus Menuge’s book “Agents Under Fire” in any way suggest that I have even a tip of my big toe in the materialst’s camp?

Denyse, my second biggest problem with your post was that you did absolutely nothing to help the doubting person while she was on the ASA list. Where were your recommendations to her? What counsel did you give her? It strikes me as arrogant in the extreme to cherry pick from a discussion with a hurting person, to which you didn’t even contribute, and then to twist it into some false accusation about how the Church is going to pot. I have a major moral problem with that kind of opportunism.

Denyse, you suggested to me that I’m afraid of stating in public that I believe in a desiger-God; that I’m shying away from ID out of some concern for my career.

Denyse, I don’t know who you think you are to make a statement like that to me. You don’t know me at all. I’ve been an evangelical Christian for over 30 years; I graduated from an evangelical college; I was a litigation attorney in a major firm for 13 years, and now I’m a law professor. I have never hidden my faith; indeed, I’ve always proclaimed it openly in what I say, write and do.

You may note that I never use a psuedonym when I write online; that’s because I believe in letting my “yes” be “yes.” Visit my blog sometime ( http://www.tgdarkly.com/blog ) and tell me if I seem to be timid about proclaiming my faith in the gospel to a hostile world. More than that, as a worship leader in a local church, I spent hundreds of Sundays, one after the other, standing in front of groups of 800 or more people, mostly strangers, visibly and openly proclaiming that Jesus, the logos who made us, is Lord. Who are you to question my faith commitment when you have no idea whatsoever how I have publicly lived it out?

Trust me when I tell you that I’ve taken my professional and personal lumps for being open about my belief in Jesus and in my affirmation that there is “one God, the the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” For you to suggest that I’m somehow afraid of expressing my belief in a designer-God is unwarranted. If God wills for me to suffer for my faith in Christ, that ultimately is something I will rejoice in.

Finally, your unwillingness to engage the deeper theological questions arising from what “evidence” of design means is gravely disappointing. I’m sure you know — or maybe you don’t know — that the question of “natural theology” has been debated for centuries. It is NOT a capitulation to materialism to suggest that natural theology reveals little or nothing about the designer to unregenerate minds. I consider myself within the broadly Reformed tradition; plenty of great minds in that tradition, Barth not the least, have been leery of natural theology. And it is NOT a capitulation to materialsm to suggest that God ordinarily works through secondary causes — this, indeed, is a classical theistic position that ultimately is a defense against atheistic claims that God is the author of evil. Again, read Aquinas, particularly his Summa Contra Gentiles.

Bill and Denyse, I think the way you are handling your blog is a terrible shame. We could be having productive and interesting high-level discussions about things like Aquinas and Barth and the doctrine of creation, in an atmosphere of mutual respect. Instead, we get nastiness, misprepresentations, and censoring even of fellow Christians who affirm the reality of a designer-God!

And let me add this final thought, Bill: I’ve no illusions about my own influence in the world. You’ve never heard of me, and you don’t care who I am, so I’m another buzzing fly to be swatted away. But, I’d humbly suggest that I’m exactly the kind of person you should want to engage. I’m not one of the misanthropic blog trollers who often populate blog comments. I have deep evangelical roots, a fair amount of theological education, and as a law professor at a very good law school, over time, Lord willing I will have an opportunity to influence students and to serve as “salt and light” within the academic legal community. Do you think people like me will have any interest in supporting your ideas or work when we can’t even have a civil discussion about Aquinas and causation?

For what it’s worth,

Sincerely,

David W. Opderbeck
http://www.tgdarkly.com

Categories
Spirituality Theology

The Jesus Way

Thank God for Eugene Peterson. In the middle of our overprogrammed, sometimes canned Western Christianity comes an honest, gentle breeze. Peterson’s latest, The Jesus Way, is vintage, refreshing Eugene. Herewith just a few quotes:

the Christian way cannot be programmed, cannot be guaranteed: faith means that we put our trust in God — and we don’t know how he will work out our salvation, only that it is our salvation that he is working out. Which frees us of anything.

The fatal thing is to reduce faith to an explanation. It is not an explanation, it is a passion. To tell the story of Abraham is to enter a narrative that throws self-help, self-certification, self-discipline — all our paltry self-hyphenations — into a junkyard of rusted-out definitions.

Faith has to do with marrying Invisible and Visible. When we engage in an act of faith we give up control, we give up sensory (sight, hearing, etc.) confirmation of reality; we give up insisting on head-knowledge as our primary means of orientation in life…. we choose no longer to operate strictly on the basis of hard-earned knowledge, glorious as it is, but over a lifetime to embrace the mystery that ‘must dazzle gradually / Or every man go blind'”.

The way of Jesus is not a sequence of exceptions to the ordinary, but a way of living deeply and fully with the people here and now, in the place we find ourselves.

But the temptation is to reduce people, ourselves and others, to self-defined needs or culture-defined needs, which always, in the long run, end up being sin-defined needs — and use Jesus to do it. . . . The devil wants us to use Jesus . . . to run our families, our neighborhoods, our schools, our governments as efficiently and properly as we can, but with no love or forgiveness. Every man and woman reduced to a function.

Categories
Spirituality

Another Seizure

My youngest son has epilepsy. His seizures are mostly controlled with medication. Every now and then, however, the seizure reflex wins out over the medications.

It’s impossible to describe how it feels, as a parent, to watch your child have a seizure. The body goes rigid; the eyes roll up; breathing is constricted; and the torso and limbs rhythmically contract, rapidly at first, then slowing to a stop. When the seizure is finished, the body is almost completely limp. At this point, you pick up your little boy, like a rag doll, and all you can do is hold and reassure him until he’s fully awake.

You know in your head that this will happen now and then, that as an occasional thing it doesn’t present any immediate danger, that in a little while your boy will be running around like he always does. Yet in your heart the world is turning in slow motion around the feeble, helpless minutes during which a little boy’s mysteriously unruly brain waves assert themselves over everything else. Surely there are lessons in those minutes about the brevity of life, the flowering and withering of the grass, God answering Job with non-answers — but surely there are easier ways to learn them. Or maybe not. Meanwhile, there’s a little boy whom you just want desperately to be ok.

Categories
Spirituality

The Dawn Treader and the Best Talk I Ever Heard

When I was a student at Gordon College many years ago, each year a faculty member was selected by the students to give a special address to the student body. I forget exactly which faculty member it was, but I still recall vividly, twenty years later, one of those addresses. The professor spoke from a text in what has become one of my favorite books, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, one of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles books. I just finished reading Dawn Treader for about the tenth time, this time, most delightfully, to my two boys.

The passage my college professor spoke from involves Reepicheep the mouse. Reepicheep is following a dream to sail all the way to Aslan’s Country (the Dawn Treader is a boat; if you don’t know who Aslan is, start with The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe ;-)).

At one point, the Dawn Treader comes across a “blackness” over the sea. All the brave sailors and royalty of Narnia are afraid to sail towards it. When Reepicheep speaks up in favor of exploring, the captain of the Dawn Treader asks “what manner of use it would it be plowing through that blackness?” To which Reepicheep replies:

“Use, Captain? If by use you mean filling our bellies or our purses, I confess it will be no use at all. So far as I know we did not set sail to look for things useful but to seek honor and adventure. And here is as great an adventure as ever I heard of, and hear, if we turn back, no little impeachment of all our honors.”

How do you think of your future, my profesor asked. Is your goal to fill your bellies and purses, or is it to seek “honor and adventure,” to live richly in pursuit of Aslan’s Country — the Kingdom of God?

Later in the story, the Dawn Treader has come near the end of the world. It’s unclear whether the crew will be able to continue further. Once again, the crew becomes afraid of what lies ahead. There is talk of turning back. Reepicheep again rises to the occasion:

My own plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world in some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise….

One of my heroes is that college professor who gave me the gift of this story. Another is Reepicheep. God give me the grace to keep going until Aslan’s Country!

Categories
Spirituality

My Private Beach

This poem was written by my twelve year old daughter (he sighs with tears welling up in his eyes….):

To: Daddy
My Private Beach
When I walk on my private beach…
I feel the breeze in my hair
And smell the salty air
On my private beach.
I can feel the cool sand between my toes
As I walk underneath the shade of the swaying palm trees
On my private beach.
The ocean is as blue as the deep blue sky
I can hear the waves crash on the silent beach
I hear a seagull cry
On my private beach.
At nighttime I see the millions of twinkling stars in the
Milky Way
The crashing waves put me to sleep
On my private beach.