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The concept of evolution is probably not as new as we tend to think it is. Tribal peoples feared and oftentimes revered their totem animals as their progenitors. I have an idea that at least some of the men in ancient times were aware of the advance of civilization as they discovered mathematics and natural philosophy. Charles Darwin developed his theories about the origin of species a full century after Isaac Newton laid out the laws that govern motion. Advances in the sciences were a common occurrence in the 19th Century. What made the idea that life was an evolutionary phenomenon such a radical notion?

Just like Galileo more than two centuries before, Darwin’s discoveries flew in the face of settled church teaching regarding the natural order of the created universe and of our place in it. The controversy, which continues today, is primarily due to our natural tendency to a form of thinking that chooses to look at everything in terms of simple dichotomies.   This insistence in seeing everything as either/or is really little more than an indication of our unwillingness to put forth the effort to see things in any other way. Setting the concepts of creation and evolution side by side and then insisting that we must choose between them is a prime example of this lazy and unprofitable mode of mentation. Most of the controversies that grip our attention today are similar in nature in that they result from the formation of false dichotomies that require a choice, as though one is absolutely right and the other absolutely wrong. I call such thinking formatory because it is the natural form our minds take unless we make a conscious effort to think in a new way.

When I say we must think in a new way, what I am proposing is not actually new, merely seldom used. And just like most things that claim to be new, this new way relies on old ways as foundation. The prerequisites are several: 1) an active faith in the living God, 2) sound reasoning, and 3) a conviction that the first two are not contradictions. How is conviction possible? With reason alone it is impossible. There is no proof that we can devise, and that satisfies the dictates of reason, that will prove God to an unbeliever. But just because our faith does not rely upon reason does not mean that it must be unreasonable. Indeed, faith is both reasonable and necessary if we wish to understand the universe in which we live.

Just as science relies upon reason, true religion must rely upon faith. Through the application of reason our science provides us with insights into the nature of the material world. Similarly, by the sincere application of faith, our religion may open a window to the spirit world. Why is one seen and the other unseen? It is simply because, as material beings, we see with material eyes. If we were spirit beings we would see with spirit eyes. Through our science we have discovered that many (most?) of the realities of the material world are unseen by us, yet we know of their existence because we can observe their effects. We even devise uses for things no human eye has ever seen. This fact should buttress our conviction in the realities of the unseen world of the spirit. Indeed, it is by the effects to which we bear witness that we are most able to infer the spirit realities we cannot see.

Our natural curiosity to know the cause of things is biased toward the material world because it is the one that we are most intimately familiar with. This relationship between cause and effect is what makes our science possible; it is what gives reason its validity. This has not always been so. Before the age of reason and the emergence of modern science, the spirit world was considered to be the prime mover and the cause of all phenomena. Many people remain superstitious to this day. False notions that persist among people of faith make great grist for the doubting mill of nonbelievers and cause many people of faith to remain timid for fear of ridicule.

Which is it? Is it the material or the spirit world that governs the universe? Is this even a valid question? It is an obvious question, but is it a real question or merely a false dichotomy? To answer one way is to embrace a cold, mechanistic universe of which there are theories aplenty. To answer the other way is to invalidate all science and leave ourselves vulnerable to the caprice of a mysterious spirit world in which we can never be quite certain why things happen because everything happens as God or gods will. This may seem to a more sophisticated thinker to be too simplistic, even unfair, but the extremes show how illogically we naturally frame our questions. An examination of commonly held beliefs will reveal some variation or combination of these views, often one view at one moment in time and the other view at another moment. Of course there is a third view – the one taken by those who shake their heads knowingly at the superciliousness of those of us who bother our heads with such questions.

To find a solution to this conundrum we must establish first principles. Where do we turn for these – to science or to religion? If we turn first to science, as some of us are wont to do, what do we find? By using telescopes and our knowledge of the speed of light we can look into the distance and presumably into the past, measuring distance and time as light-years. Theorists have postulated a first cause which they term the Big Bang. Are their theories logical? At first they may appear promising, but upon closer examination, they begin to break down. Scientists and mathematicians have long realized the necessity of being very cautious when dealing with singularities. Every school child is taught that they shouldn’t divide by zero because the answer might be anything or everything. The Big Bang is only logical to people who are willing to lay aside all common sense and everything else they know about the laws governing energy and matter. The notion that everything came from nothing is little more than wishful thinking. What makes us vulnerable to wishful thinking?

A second place where scientists often look for first principles is to look at the very small. When they do this they have discovered there are breaks in the continuity of what they observe. These discontinuities are called quantum jumps. They cannot be predicted except as probabilities. Because of the apparent randomness of these occurrences some theoreticians claim that there is no underlying cause – that all that is and that has order has only chaos and disorder at its foundation.

Whole libraries could be filled with all that has been written on these subjects by brilliant and not so brilliant minds. But no matter how far or how small scientists may look, they will eventually reach the limits of their vision. Science has at its core the assumption of causality – that effect is preceded by cause. Our assurance of the validity of causality has human experience for its basis. Logically we can follow this series of cause and effect back until we postulate a first cause, an uncaused cause. But the moment we do this we have reached the limits of our science. When science begins to contemplate origins it ceases to be science. If scientists persist in claiming authority for what lies beyond the limits of their science they risk losing their credibility, which is built up in part through the recognition of limits.

If we turn to religion we discover something quite different. Rather than beginning with what is familiar, with what can be readily established in human experience, and then gradually working toward the extremes as does science, our Biblical scripture opens with a bold assertion addressing the question of origins: Genesis 1:1: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” There are others: Nehemiah 9:6: “You alone are the Lord. You made the heavens, even the highest heavens, and all their starry host…” and Psalm 104:2: “He wraps himself in light as with a garment; he stretches out the heavens like a tent…” To the uninitiated these appear to be very curious statements. Who is God? How do we know it is a person and not a thing that is the source of all that is? If this statement is true, where did God come from? Who has seen God? Aren’t these statements somewhat dated if one considers the earth in comparison with what we have come to know of the wider universe? Is not our little planet a mere mite in the heavens? What possible significance could it have?

This first principle from religion, rather that settling matters once and for all, gives birth to a thousand and one further questions. How can I know if it is true? Upon whose authority should I accept it? Why should I wish to accept it? What difference does it make if I accept it or not? For that matter, of what significance am I? If the world is but a mite in the universe and I am but one of billions of people on this small world, what difference does it make what I think or do? How can I know what to believe? How can I know anything?

It is only fair, while at this apparent impasse, to ask ourselves if science has any answers to this plethora of questions. Many claim that it does, but few, if any, of the answers prove to be personally satisfying. Science, by making use of the human faculty to reason, can advance our knowledge of how things occur by the exploration of cause and effect. The question of why they occur lies outside the range of pure scientific inquiry. Science has proved its worth in making our lives much easier and more comfortable, but it cannot answer to questions of purpose. Science can provide us with marvelous machines, but never does science provide us with the purpose for which we employ these machines. Where does purpose come from?

 Again, we may find in our ancient Scripture a bold statement – Isaiah 45:18-20:

For this is what the Lord says-                                                                                               
he who created the heavens,
He is God;
He who fashioned and made the earth,
He founded it;
He did not create it to be empty,
But formed it to be inhabited-He says:
“I am the Lord,
and there is no other.
I have not spoken in secret,
from somewhere in the land of darkness;
I have not said to Jacob’s descendants,
‘Seek me in vain.’
I, the Lord, speak the truth;
I declare what is right.
“Gather together and come;
assemble, you fugitives from the nations.
Ignorant are those who carry about idols of wood,
Who pray to gods that cannot save.”

These scriptures speak to the purpose of the Creator. They also assert that the Creator can be known, that we should seek him out. How do we do that? To a man of reason this is a great mystery. The scientist works from what he knows and can experience. Then by reason he expands his knowledge to those material realities he cannot see or directly experience. He may postulate the necessity of a first cause, but his science will not clue him to the purposes of a First Cause. What is he to do? Should he abandon, at least for the moment, his precious reason and rely on faith? If he reaches out in faith to what he doesn’t know, what if there is nothing there? How will he know? What would his fellow scientists think? Would they not shake their heads in wonder at this foolishness? Why is he afraid?

Let’s assume for the moment that our man of reason has made the leap of faith and has experienced assurances that it was not in vain. Perhaps the assurances came in a rush of conviction, or perhaps they came to him after months, even years of quiet reflection. However they came to him, he realizes that he is no longer the same as he was – he realizes he is not alone. He now desires the communion of other people of faith. But after he begins to know them he discovers a whole new set of problems. Despite their common creeds, few of these people of faith agree on what they believe. How can that be? How strange! Are logic and reason foreign to this new domain of unity he has just discovered? As he once again begins to peruse the scriptures he discovers much to give him pause. Not only does he find little agreement, but much of what he does find is all about the disagreements between people of faith as they struggled to know God.

Discouraged, but undaunted, our hero perseveres in his search until he comes upon an odd passage. It is reputed to be God’s response to Moses when Moses asked what was God’s name: “I AM THAT I AM.” That is a most curious name and an obvious problem for grammarians as they have translated the phrase differently in more modern interpretations. The language is so basic that it lends encouragement to the unlearned while it confounds the learned. Even our man of reason is challenged to take a stab at it.

He begins by making a list of observations:

  • God’s answer is in the present tense.
  • His answer is personal.
  • The answer is circular.
  • The word “THAT” in place of the expected “WHO” indicates that, while God is personal, he is more than person.

What conclusions might he draw from these observations? The first conclusion is that God is complete within himself. He cannot be explained by any other thing or being. Everything else must be explained by its relationship to God. He is the first cause postulated by science. He is the First Person sought for in religion. He has no source. Indeed, he is the source. God, who is known by many names, can be known as the First Source and Center of all things and beings. Even time and space must be explained in relationship to God. Everything, no matter how diverse, must exist in relationship to God. Now our scientist friend and discovered child of God can become a philosopher. He can begin to order his concepts by making them conform to a first principle – one that is unchallengeable.

Our new man of faith looks again at the material world of his scientific inquiry. Does he see it differently? Yes, necessarily so, unless he has failed to make his faith in the Creator personal. Are there laws that govern the material world of energy and motion? If the answer is yes, then those laws must be seen as the habits of the Creator. Their constancy must not only give testimony to God’s absolute reliability, but also to the infinity of his will. Are there any anomalies to be found among his observations of material phenomenon? Yes, many. What can he now deduce from this fact? His logical acumen suggests two things: First, that he may not yet be in possession of all of the facts, or secondly, that an anomaly may be the consequence of an active and purposive agent. Does this bring him any closer to a full understanding of the material world? Yes, but it also brings humility, because he now realizes that he has only made a first step in his understanding, while before he had nursed the hope that his science was on the verge of discovering a formula that would encapsulate all of the discoverable facts of energy and motion. Now he surmises that even an eternity may be insufficient to fully explore all the secrets of the material universes. Will his love for scientific inquiry survive the death of his material mechanism?

What happens if our man of logic and reason looks again at his newly discovered realm of the spirit? Are there laws of spirit that he can discover just like the laws that govern the material world? If so, what are these laws and how may he go about discovering them? Are there any parallels with the material domain? Recalling laws concerning the conservation of mass and the conservation of energy he wonders if there might be laws regarding the conservation of spirit energy. How might he postulate such a law? What is spirit energy? How does it differ from material energy? These and many more questions occur to our material minded man as he contemplates the mysteries of the spiritual domain. Overcome by the magnitude of the task, he prays for help from his spirit benefactors. He still has the eyes of a skeptic, but he is no longer a prisoner of his skepticism. He now has in his possession new and powerful tools to aid him in his search. He has hope; he has faith; above all he has trust in the goodness of his Creator. He is not certain of what he is looking for, but he is certain of recognizing it when he finds it.

In the interim he continues his study of Biblical scripture. It was all written down in a period of less than two thousand years. There is within it mention made of events that preceded these times, but they are an odd mixture of certainty and vagueness. To a man of reason they are an incomprehensible puzzle. Continuing on he discovers an amazing story of a people who had an unusual desire to know God. In it are characters both godly and ungodly, many times in the same person. The stories are a combination of the fanciful and of the brutally realistic. God is said to be speaking throughout, sometimes directly, sometimes through prophets. These prophets were sometimes priests, but often they were at odds with the priests. The “promised” land they came to occupy, a “land of milk and honey,” had to be taken and then held by force of arms. This land had little to offer in the way of natural defenses. Indeed, to the great powers of the time it was merely a frontier, a crossroads, a porous barrier through which they had to pass with their armies as they contended with one another. The case that the Hebrews were a favored people was a difficult one to make then and a difficult one to make even in retrospect. They were rarely free of strife, and during those periods when they did enjoy a respite from the rigors of a precarious existence they appear to have retrogressed. Was this not an odd homeland for a chosen people? What kind of a God would consider adversity to be a blessing? Our scientist friend cannot help remembering something he once heard about the survival of the fittest.

Their struggle was a long and arduous one. Finally a new prophet appears. He accuses his compatriots of being a “generation of vipers” and exhorts them to repentance. He claims to be a herald for a new and greater teacher, one who knows God because he is from God.

When the new teacher begins to promulgate his message it is a strange message indeed. He tells of a God who not only loves the righteous, but who also loves the unrighteous, the unloved, even the unlovable. What a strange God! How can society survive if God doesn’t punish the unrighteous, the unworthy, the unclean? What an impossible teaching! What is to become of us? If this new teaching takes hold, it will be the ruination of us all! Someone needs to put a stop to him!

They do “put a stop” to him, but not to his word . His message of love, forgiveness, and personal salvation continues to reverberate down through the ages, bringing light and life and the potential for human happiness. The struggle for life itself can nevermore be the ultimate struggle, for entwined in that struggle is a struggle for goodness, mercy, kindness, and justice. The Scriptures come to an end, but the struggles to embrace the promises of a Creator God go on. Did he create us in vain, or with the hope that we might willingly join with him in the act of creation? Can there be any doubt, with such steadfast love as God has shown to us, of our eventual success? Why would our Creator offer such an opportunity to beings of such humble origin? What new values might we discover that would be beyond the ken of creatures already living in a perfect universe, a universe where only perfect choices are made because all other choices are unthinkable? What is evolution? Is it merely the discovery of a mechanism of nature? Can there be such a mechanism without a Master Mechanic? Evolution – creation in time – whose idea is it, anyway?

Philosopher’s Corner – Gene Ross