Rethinking Design and Genesis

6/3/08 [The following is from a recent presentation; see also this entry for a more recent blog update to this issue.]

The mathematician Henri Poincare once stated:

“To doubt everything or to believe everything are two equally convenient solutions; both dispense with the necessity of reflection.”

Over the past several years, the conflict between religion and science has grown more vocal. School boards, parents, and the ACLU are ending up in state supreme courts debating the best way to teach science. Science and religion, especially in this country, have occupied very separate territories, and if either feels that their space is being invaded, they make it clear that it is not acceptable. The challenges of science to religious belief have been around for a long time, but the most famous recent challenge (and by recent, I mean within the past 400 years) is evolution. As I have reflected on this conflict between science and religion, I have often wondered why it is necessary. I understand the reaction of scientists to the intrusion of religion in the classroom, because we have a clear precedence of the state not influencing our religions, but what about the religious reaction to science? The responses run the gamut from completely ignoring scientific claims to detailed refutations to counter attacks.

As I survey the landscape of this debate, I am increasingly concerned about how the young in faith will fair. How should one respond to proposed challenges to faith? Poincare’s suggestion is a good one: reflection is the place to start. Not fear, not defensiveness, not attack; reflection. 1 John 4:18 claims that, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear.” When your faith is challenged, do you feel fear? Fear is a natural reaction, but it usually ends up causing us to have one of two harmful and extreme reactions: paralyzing us or making us lash out.

1 Peter 3:15 challenges us to “always be ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence.” Ideally, in order to do this, we need 1) to deeply and thoughtfully understand the specifics of our faith, and 2) to possess the confidence and humility necessary to not feel that challenges are a threat. That’s a tall order, but a vital and attainable one. I feel that this is particularly important to understand as debates and challenges have become such a common part of the daily discourse of this world, especially for young people. The young in faith are looking at how we deal with challenges and differences.

Let’s consider some specifics. People of faith love physics and astronomy. The big picture of the universe that astronomers provide us with remarkably captures the wonder and awe we feel at God’s creation. Billions of stars, colorful nebulae; it’s easy to picture God as a cosmic artist splashing out galaxies like paint on a canvas. However, Christians lose no love on biology. Ever since Darwin articulated evolution, creationists have taken it as a direct affront against their belief in God. I’m going to make the case that this is really not necessary.

Charles Russell recognized the problem with claiming literal 24 hour days for the creation of the world. Even in his time, the evidence for earth being billions of years old was clear, and he was informed enough to realize the six literal days was a needless and unfounded argument. He even recognized evolutionary adaptation within a species, but balked at the idea when applied to between species. Philosophically, this presents a problem, because once you’ve opened the door to a non-literal reading of Genesis, where do you stop? Why is evolution ok for the age of the earth or adaptation within a species, but not acceptable for other things? On what basis does one claim that this part of Genesis is not literal and this part is; on what basis do we recognize these scientific claims, but not those scientific claims?

What further complicates this issue is the fact that 150 years beyond Darwin and 120 years beyond Russell, the arguments are not the same. Evolutionary arguments have moved far beyond Darwin’s initial ideas, although certain core ideas are still intact. If we are to provide our young people with tools and arguments that enable them to deal with challenges to their faith – reflectively, not reactively – we need to update our approaches.

Misunderstandings

Before we get into some more specifics, let’s clear the decks of two common misunderstandings.

First of all, an error of language. The theory of evolution is not considered a guess or a “pretty good idea”. It is considered to be fact. When people dismiss evolution as “just a theory”, it means that they misunderstand the proper use of the word “theory” within a scientific context. Scientists do not use the word theory the same way that, for instance, a police officer would use the word to explain how Mr. Smith was murdered in the library by Colonel Morgenstern with a candlestick. Trying to dismiss evolution in this way is trying to compare it to a hypothesis, which it is not.

[For time's sake, the following was not included in the presentation: Hypothesis, Theory and Law are usually thought of and taught in a hierarchical manner. Most of us were taught - somewhat understandably, because it is easier - that we begin with a hypothesis, a kind of testable, scientific hunch about a phenomenon, which gets tested through experiments, then we develop a theory to explain it. After enough proof by experimentation, it gets to become a law.

While this is a convenient way to explain it, it's not entirely accurate, nor does it capture the dynamic relationship between the three. This traditional way of explaining it is a little more like School House Rock's "I'm just a bill"; it explains science as a linear process (bill to law), rather than a on-going, nonlinear interaction.

A theory is a systematic proposition or set of propositions with explanatory and even predictive power. A theory offers an explanation of why a phenomenon behaves as it does. A law describes a phenomenon, but does not necessarily explain it. A law derives from a large amount of observation, such as the law of gravity, and can be generalized; however, the theory of gravity exists in multiple forms, because they are still not sure how/why it works. Both exist side-by-side in an on-going relationship.

Evolution is referred to as a theory, not because it isn't factually true, but because it exists in too many diverse and complicated examples to to be generalized into a law, in the same way that gravity can. Gravity explains a far more limited set of phenomena or observations. Explaining evolution is, analogously, like trying to solve a crime after the fact. Unlike gravity, which we witness right before our eyes, evolution occurs on such minuscule levels - both time-wise and physically - that it is not observable in the same way.

This distinction allows many creationists to make the false charge about never seeing any apes turn into humans or other transitional forms. That misses the point completely. Evolution is claiming that these changes are occurring on a very slow timescale. Furthermore, much of the observation is dependent on the fossil record, which is somewhat limited, due to the fact that organic materials decay and disappear, so, of course there are gaps. However, there are not as many as creationists would have one believe. In addition, genetic studies are filling in many of those gaps. Update: here is an excellent explanation by Stephen J. Gould.]

Second of all, the fact that science changes its claims is not a weakness, it is the whole point. People of faith, claiming to have access to God’s eternal and unchangeable truths, become suspicious of scientists saying that they used to think X, but now they think Y. While religious people can view this as a weakness, scientists view it as a strength, because they are open to better data and explanations. Once again, this is not a legitimate criticism of science. The fact that we claim to understand God’s ultimate truths does not necessarily make it so. In fact, far more burden of proof rests on us to support our claims than it does the scientists, because they avoid making a claim in the first place without evidence. If we keep these in mind, I think that we can avoid some of the common misunderstandings in this debate.

Intelligent Design

The recent court cases involving science and religion have revolved around an idea called Intelligent Design – I’m sure you’ve heard of it in the news. The basic premise of the idea goes back to the 18th century, in an argument provided by William Paley. The basic idea is that if you stumbled across a watch on a meadow, you wouldn’t mistake it for a rock or some other natural formation, you would clearly recognize that it was designed (a more recent version is pointing at Mt. Rushmore as another example). Similarly, within the universe, there are numerous things that seem so remarkable, that it seems impossible that they developed naturally, but must have been purposefully designed. For instance, ID presents an idea called “irreducible complexity”, that some parts of nature, such as the eye, are so complex that they could not have evolved gradually and randomly, but must have been consciously designed all at once, since no half-eye would be of any use.

The main problem with intelligent design is that it is an idea that has, in the words of Randy Olson, stalled out at the level of philosophical intuition; it cannot produce testable scientific hypotheses, and would therefore limit scientific investigation (and that’s what the courts decided). If something is going to be explained by design, the next question is, “Who was the designer?” If you don’t know, then you have to continue investigating as if there were no design anyway. If you claim that it was God, how are you going to prove that? If you cannot prove that, why suggest it in the first place if you can’t prove or disprove it? A scientist can’t answer whether God did something or not; their job is, simply stated, to just break complex problems down into simpler ones.

[Again, not in the presentation: There are really two arguments to look at: first, Paley's original design argument, and Behe's updated version of it. Paley's and Behe's arguments both suffer from several problems. For two concise, typical arguments against design, see here and here. I'm not endorsing everything found on these sites, but if you are going to argue for design, you have to address these objections.]

The next crucial objection to intelligent design is the god-of-the-gaps problem. When science lacks an explanation for a particular phenomenon, design theory creationists rush in to fill the gap with God. Unfortunately, as science continues to expand its knowledge (remember that point about science updating it’s claims?), it fills in those gaps, and God gets pushed out. Over the past three centuries, God has been pushed out of quite a few gaps. For those whose faith was based on how many gaps God can fill, many have experienced a crisis of faith, or have chosen to simply ignore science.

My point here, though, is why make our faith about scientific debates? Francis Collins, the head of the Human Genome project, and a Christian, and Ken Miller, a biologist, and a Christian, have both written detailed refutations of ID and its flaws and shortcomings. Numerous Christians are scientists, and numerous scientists are Christians; why does there have to be a conflict? I don’t believe that there need be.

Growing up as a Christian, and a Bible Student in particular, I am concerned that we are doing a disservice to our young people by approaching the debate in this manner. By pitting science and religion against one another, we force our young people into the false logic of the excluded middle: either the bible is right or science is. Br. Russell already opened the door to a more nuanced understanding of Genesis; I think that we need to continue to explore those possibilities, and not inherit the typical evangelical fundamentalist/conservative creationist way of reading Genesis. We need to educate ourselves more fully about scientific issues and the historical issues surrounding Genesis (and other books of the bible), in order to teach our young people about the relationship between faith and science. I’m not talking about becoming an expert in science or history – that’s not possible – but to have a current and well-informed knowledge of these issues is important for a reflective faith.

If we send our children off to college with a skewed and hostile view of science, how can we expect them to have a positive experience? What happens instead is that they too often become disillusioned with their faith, or they simply ignore the conflicts and challenges, and remain sheltered in their faith. As the culture war between religion and secularism continues to heat up, the media has become a potent weapon to bolster evangelicals in their staunch position. Earlier this Spring, Ben Stein produced an anti-evolutionary movie, entitled “Expelled”, that demonstrated this kind of unreflective and uncritical thinking with some faulty logic and accusations. He sloppily tries to connect scientific progress with fascist governments such as the Nazi’s, and attempts to turn the resistance to ID in the scientific community into an issue of censorship. The fact that it was funded by the well-heeled Discovery Institute speaks to their disregard for arguments of logical integrity. [For some correctives to the movie, see Expelled Exposed.]

Rethinking Genesis

So if an unreasonable reading of Genesis is the impetus behind much of this culture war, why do we place such a burden on the book of Genesis, and expect it to act like a scientific textbook? I actually don’t have a problem with evolution, because I don’t read the bible as a science book. I don’t have the expertise to enter into a debate with the entire scientific community, so I am not going to look to them for proof or refutation of my faith – my faith is grounded in other ways. I have read several books that have tried to explain Genesis in light of modern scientific understanding, but am unconvinced for the following reasons.

First of all, it seems to violate the straight forward way of reading Genesis as a book of religious expression. The point of Genesis is not to provide cosmology in the modern sense, but to affirm belief in God as the sole and almighty creator. Second of all, the scientific match is far too tenuous. The language of Genesis is prosaic and poetic – not scientific, so it’s not all that hard to read a lot of scientific details into Genesis’ ambiguous style of language. Both of these objections point to an earlier case I made for reading biblical books according to the context of when and how they were written, such as in the case of the book of Jonah. Numerous other cases, could be demonstrated for a proper historical reading of prophetic books, apocalyptic books (such as Daniel and Revelation), and more traditional historical books such as Exodus, Kings, and Chronicles. The point is that Genesis can not be easily pulled into the 21st century without doing violence to its original context.

Further proof of these points can be made by considering the texts of the first two chapters themselves. Chapters 1 and 2 present two different accounts of the creation. At first glance, the order appears to be different, and indeed it is. Some have argued that there is no discrepancy, just that Genesis 2 is another, more detailed re-play of the Genesis 1 account. I personally think that there are too many differences to make this type of reconciliation. More importantly, though, I think that this approach misses the larger issue: each account is trying to communicate distinct theological lessons. Genesis 1 is the cosmological view of God as the sole creator of the world; Genesis 2 presents man as the highest creation within God’s moral order. The proof in the eating of the pudding is that each chapter uses completely separate language for God: in Genesis 1 God is called Elohim; in Genesis 2, Yahweh.

Unfortunately, there’s no time to give a thorough account of the multiple document hypothesis [I'm working on one; for now, please Richard Friedman's ""Who Wrote the Bible?" and "The Bible with Sources Revealed"; the latter contains an excellent and concise (31 pages) introduction to the evidence.], but suffice it to say that there are four distinct authors throughout the book of Genesis, and not only Genesis, but the other books of the Pentateuch as well, which were later edited into the remarkable five books that we know. This makes it unlikely that we should be expecting to find a systematic and scientific explanation of creation in the book of Genesis – it simply was not its purpose.

Thus far, it might seem that the case I’m building is not really favoring the bible. Well, it’s not that simple. The point that I am trying to make is that there is no one-size-fits-all method of reading and interpreting the bible. If having faith in the bible means accepting every claim it makes as true, regardless of how those claims lie within observable knowledge; if it means that all alleged contradictions are only apparent; if it means accepting portrayals of God that are immoral, then I simply cannot support that approach [I'm working on an elaboration of this position.]. To do so would be to accept the kind of unreflective thinking that I believe is actually a disservice to faith, because it forces the bible to be a book it was not intended to be.

Let me read a quote from an essay by Robert Parkinson on Textual Criticism:

The publication of the bible as a one-volume printed English text, while a marvelous benefit to the life of the church, may also be part of the problem. It creates the illusion that there is a single and unchangeable text. Before the invention of printing, it was self-evident that the text of the bible was preserved in handwritten manuscripts that sometimes differed significantly from each other. Today, many readers of the bible have no knowledge of how the bible came into being or any awareness of the prior existence of Scripture as a manuscript tradition. When individuals learn that no New Testament manuscript has exactly the same text as any other, they are often surprised and experience their new learning as a serious challenge to their faith. p. 2, Robert Parkinson, “New Testament Textual Criticism”, Who killed Goliath?

While he is specifically talking about the NT, the general argument applies. Many of you, maybe even most of you, might hear these ideas and think, well, I think you read too many books Peter. Fair enough; even the skeptical Ecclesiastes warns that “the writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body.” But I assure you that these are not things on my mind, they are things on my heart. The truly ironic thing is that all of my studies have lead to me want a simpler faith.

We each have different temperaments – different strengths in how we develop our faith. These differences should be our strength, not our weakness, as we spent time exploring last weekend at the convention. In order for this to happen, though, we need to be able to truly appreciate our differences, not simply put up with them.

Some have suggested that differences of viewpoint, questions, doubts, etc. should be kept out of the church; actually, some would make the point that only certain differences should be avoided. I find this unfortunate, and not really very helpful, because it contradicts what I have been told my entire life: prove it to yourself. I’m not aware of anyone who has proven anything worthwhile without a question.

Discussing different viewpoints – whether scientific or historical or doctrinal – does not need to be a staple of our fellowship, but it also need not be a negative experience. When we discuss differences, though, we should have the ability to do so in an open manner, in a way that can benefit and encourage all. The point is not, necessarily, to convince someone or change their mind, but to make one another at least aware of differing perspectives, and what effect they can have on our faith.

Such an approach would be a great help to those young in faith, because they could witness and engage in an open discussion, and learn how to negotiate differences. It doesn’t need to be confusing or confounding; on the contrary, it could be clarifying and strengthening; we too often sell ourselves short in what we are capable of understanding. Furthermore, if a disagreement is confusing to someone’s faith in here, in the church, how do we expect it to be less so out there?

Being a parent has brought my searching out in stark relief. It is no longer just my desire for understanding, it is my goal and journey to prepare my children to have faith, integrity, a desire to truly understand, and all the while communicate the richness of a promise to bless all mankind. No, these are not things on my mind, these are things on my heart.

[This presentation is, effectively, the outline of the problem. What is missing is the positive presentation of what is right about faith, and what it should be based on; I'm not ruling out design totally, but we must be much more precise and limited in how we apply it. I'm working on it; that's part of why this site exists. Again, critiques welcome.]