God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey, Chapter 10 – The Non-Presentation of Self in Everyday Life

NOTE FROM CM: I’m sorry everyone. I have been distracted this week by changes at my work and failed to notice that I accidentally put up part of the Romans post today rather than tomorrow. I have rescheduled it for tomorrow and deleted all comments. We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning. Again — sorry.

Also, don’t let this mistake keep you from reading and commenting on Mike the Geologist’s excellent post for today.

God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey

Chapter 10 – The Non-Presentation of Self in Everyday Life

We will continue our review of God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey.  Today is Chapter 10 – The Non-Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. Jon says the title of this chapter is based on a once-influential social psychology book by Erving Goffman, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, an analysis of the human self.  But one area notably absent from Goffman’s book is the entire non-human world.  Jon says this is inevitable because the concept of “self” is entirely human, even a social human one.  Jon says:

To speak of other animals as possessing self is contentious.  To speak of plants or bacteria or viruses possessing one is absurd.  And to speak of an inanimate process like evolution being selfish is simply absurd… The reason it matters, outside of science, are legion.  The “struggle for survival” directly justified eugenic theory, two World Wars, and Holocaust.  It is held up as a natural law in economics and commerce.  Accepted comprehensively, it nullifies the very existence of all that is human, by subordinating all human values to varieties of evolutionary self-promotion.  And specifically it fundamentally undermines the Christian teaching that creation is good, leading amongst other things to an evolutionary theology in which creation means very little.

He notes the Darwin/Malthus “struggle for survival” is not anything more than a metaphor for what, in more accurate scientific terminology, is simply differential reproduction. Jon asserts that Darwin’s “competitive warfare” model was a product of his English sociopolitical background, which has far outlived the Victorian social inequalities and colonial empire-building of its time.

Since Richard Dawkins re-conceptualized adaptive evolution in 1976 with an even worse metaphor than the “struggle to survive” – the “selfish gene” – people who should know better have been taking it literally to mean that evolution itself is selfish.  But Jon also asserts that Conor Cunningham, in Darwin’s Pious Idea, comprehensively demolished that concept intellectually by showing it is philosophically meaningless.  Cunningham (and others such as Simon Conway Morris) brought to light other work, based on wider biological principles than genetics alone, that it is cooperation that is global and essential to life, and that selfishness (even if that could be a coherent concept in irrational beings with no sense of self) is always merely local and relative. Consider this: in the human body, microbial cells, from 500-1,000 species, outnumber human cells by ten to one (according to the Human Microbiome Project).  We are in our very selves a model of interdependence.

One issue that has challenged evolution since Darwin is that of “altruism”, of creatures sacrificing their lives for others.  It has usually been explained in terms of “kin selection” or giving my life for a relative will help preserve at least some of my genes.  In this way all altruistic behavior can be reduced to disguised selfishness.  Is that cynical view accurate scientifically?  Jon says that if the self-sacrifice we see in animals and experience in ourselves “emerged” from the “struggle to survive” it makes the virtue no more or less real than the practice of a science using a faculty that “emerged” from the same struggle.  If evolutionary altruism is illusionary, then so is the biology that studies it.  Jon says:

And if intellectual enterprise can, as we daily see, be pursued without any reference to reproductive success (by elderly bachelors like Alfred Russel Wallace, for example), then so can virtue be its own reward, and attributing everything to self-interest becomes meaningless.

Jon asserts that part of the artificiality of the whole discussion stems from focusing too closely on the individual organism.  Other units of evolution than the individual are possible, though, for as we have seen Neo-Darwinism, basing evolution on population genetics, represents that selfish individual by its selfish genome amongst those of the whole population.  One should, even in that case, remember that all sexual reproduction begins by sacrificing a whopping 50 percent of one’s personal genetic inheritance to one’s mate every time a sperm and egg fuse – mutual help is at the heart of sexual reproduction, even regarding evolution.  Possible units of evolution don’t end there either, we have the problem of colonial insects whose members, many sterile, sacrifice themselves willingly for the good of the colony. Jon says:

So “fitness” need not be focused on the individual and its offspring even in the lowly insect.  And if insect colonies can be effective units of selection, then why not entire species, for example, which shares a common gene pool?  After all, the United Nations has labored to pass resolutions on global warming on the basis that it’s a threat to humanity at large.  Why should that be regarded as any more odd biologically that workers in a hive seeking the common good, or individuals laboring to survive?

Again Jon brings up the fact that the human being is, biologically speaking, a colony of cells with up to 37 trillion members.  All day, every day, our individual cells die on our behalf: skin and gut cells are shed, immune cells act as suicide bombers against bacterial invaders, and so on.  We even have “sterile workers” in the form of red blood cells that never reproduce, lacking even a nucleus.  Programmed cell death (apoptosis) is a sophisticated physiological process, quite different from accidental destruction of cells, which is absolutely essential for individual development and survival.

Yet for some reason we don’t see that a the same kind of red in tooth and claw struggle and God-questioning suffering that we would attribute to the cheetah bringing down the gazelle.  Instead we see it, rightly, as the harmonious operation of a harmonious constituted being.  So maybe the whole question of competition and death in the biological realm isn’t usefully regarded in the sole light of “selfish” reproductive success at all, but rather in terms of various hierarchies of cooperative “commonwealth”.  Jon concludes:

To summarize, then, since evolution, and the living world generally are found on close examination not to be steeped in selfishness at all, but overwhelmingly founded on cooperation and interdependence, human sin and selfishness may be seen for what they truly are – an aberration within God’s good creation.

Jon does seem to be promoting the idea that “the only thing wrong with creation is us”, but I think that doesn’t’ map too badly onto reality.  After all, we are the only creature we know of that “sin”, that is, deliberately with malice aforethought, disobey the revealed will of the Creator.  Does anyone think that the male lion destroying its rival’s cubs to bring the female lion back into estrus is sinning?  The materialist reductionist would argue that the women who deliberately drowned her children because her current boyfriend “didn’t want children” was motivated by the same evolutionary urge to propagate their selfish genes. I disagree.  But not on a scientific basis but on a metaphysical basis.  The question of sinning against God is a metaphysical question, and I believe disconnecting lion behavior from human behavior is legitimate.  Obviously, if you don’t believe there is a God Creator, then you are going to seek to link the lion-human behavior.  So be it –  that is why we have these discussions.

Bruggemann: Our life with God — characteristically open and unsettled

The Mothership. Photo by Chris Davis at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Ah, when I need something to really chew on, Walter Bruggemann is always a good go-to.

I have testified here at IM to a journey of having learned something much different than what I was taught in my evangelical background. That is, that God and his people, particularly as portrayed in the Hebrew Bible, share a contentious, give-and-take relationship that is as filled with ambiguity, unsettledness, and mystery as it is with certainty.

Indeed, the biblical testimony even suggests that there is a mutuality in the relationship, which encourages us to think humans have some ability, through arguing and wrestling with God, to change things with God even as God, of course, has power to change things with people.

After all, is not the name “Israel” a testament to that? (see Gen. 32:28). “A people who wrestle with God and prevail” is the very definition of the community of faith in the Hebrew Bible. And, as we’ve emphasized repeatedly, this also characterizes the actual nature of those scriptures themselves — a vibrant, often contentious conversation about and with God and God’s people in the community.

For many Christians, on the other hand, the view is that the gospel of Christ has brought a sense of closure to this whole sense of uncertainty, lament, questioning, complaining, and disputing with God that characterizes First Testament religion. The answer has come. What questions can remain?

But is this truly what a life with God is like?

I’ve said enough. Chew on this.

• • •

I have repeatedly stressed that Israel deals with an incommensurate God who is endlessly at risk in mutuality. That is, YHWH is seen by Israel to be genuinely dialectical, always on one end of a disputatious transaction that may effect change in YHWH as well as in YHWH’s partners. We have seen this profoundly unresolved already in Exod 34:6–7. We have seen it regularly in the noun-metaphors used for YHWH. Most largely, we have seen this dialectical quality in the juxtaposition of what I have called core testimony and countertestimony. Israel’s transactions with YHWH are indeed characteristically open and unsettled.

It appears to me, granting the enormous difference made by a christological center in Christian faith, that the real issue that concerns us in Old Testament theology is this: Classical Christianity is tilted in a transcendental direction, which gives closure to YHWH and to YHWH’s relationships with the partners. There may be many reasons for such a closure; perhaps not least is the need of a derivative tradition (Christianity) to substantiate its claim against the precursive tradition (Judaism). For whatever reason, this tendency to transcendental closure compromises the genuinely dialectical quality of Jewish testimony. That compromise, moreover, is of crucial importance for what is possible and what is precluded in our discernment of God, world, and self.

I do not imagine that Christianity in its classical forms will yield much, soon, on this score. But there are hints that as Christianity in the West is increasingly disestablished, and so may distance itself from its Hellenistic-Constantinian propensity, it may move in the direction of its Jewish dimension of genuine unsettlement between YHWH and YHWH’s partners. There is no doubt that this drama of brokenness and restoration is shared by Judaism and Christianity. In Judaism, it is a drama of:

  • exile and homecoming,
  • death and resurrection,
  • Pit and rescue,
  • and chaos and creation.

To that set of categories of discernment, Christianity adds (decisively for its identity) crucifixion and resurrection. That of course is a specific move the Old Testament (and Judaism) do not make. The differential on this point is very great.

What strikes me more, however, is that these traditions are, in the main, agreed. That agreement is the basis for a genuine alternative to the nihilism of the modern world, a nihilism contained in the elimination of this incommensurate, mutual One in the interest of autonomy and self-sufficiency. This testimony of Israel, echoed by Christianity, not only gives different answers—it insists on different questions, wherein the answers offered are perforce thin and tenuous, but not for that reason unuttered. The intramural quarrels in the church, and the ancient alienations between Christians and Jews, are unconscionable, in my judgment, when this lean, resilient tradition stands as a fragile alternative to the embrace of the Nihil.

An Unsettling God: The Heart of the Hebrew Bible (pp. 175-176)

Another Look: A spirituality “not pressed through the pores”

Another Look: A spirituality “not pressed through the pores”

A saint is capable of loving created things and enjoying the use of them and dealing with them in a perfectly simple, natural manner, making no formal references to God, drawing no attention to his own piety, and acting without any artificial rigidity at all. His gentleness and his sweetness are not pressed through his pores by the crushing restraint of a spiritual strait-jacket. They come from his direct docility to the light of truth and to the will of God. Hence a saint is capable of talking about the world without any explicit reference to God, in such a way that his statement gives greater glory to God than the observations of someone less holy, who has to strain himself to make an arbitrary connection between creatures and God through the medium of hackneyed analogies and metaphors that are so feeble that they make you think there is something the matter with religion.

• Thomas Merton
New Seeds of Contemplation, p. 24

Another Look: No Right Way Once and For All

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What you must realize, what you must even come to praise, is the fact that there is no right way that is going to become apparent to you once and for all. The most blinding illumination that strikes and perhaps radically changes your life will be so attenuated and obscured by doubts and dailiness that you may one day come to suspect the truth of that moment at all. The calling that seemed so clear will be lost in echoes of questionings and indecision; the church that seemed to save you will fester with egos, complacencies, banalities; the love of your life will work itself like a thorn in your heart until all you can think of is plucking it out. Courage is persisting in life in spite of it. And faith is finding yourself, in the deepest part of your soul, in the very heart of who you are, moved to praise it.

– Christian Wiman
My Bright Abyss: Meditation of a Modern Believer

• • •

In the final scenes of the movie Cast Away, Tom Hanks’ character stands at a crossroads with new possibilities for his future, and perhaps for love. An unexpected accident which left him stranded on a desert island had forced him from the life he had planned. Upon his return, he discovered that others had moved on with their own lives without him, and that it would be impossible for him to pick up where things had left off. However, when he takes care of one final detail remaining from his shipwreck — delivering a package to a home in the country — he ends up meeting a woman in a pickup truck who, it is hinted, may provide direction for his life in days to come.

And so at times, we too stand on the threshold of a new season of life. We have changed, others around us have changed, situations and circumstances have changed. We may have passed through a time of disorientation or disruption that has altered life by loss. Perhaps our prospects have moved in the other direction and life has been transformed by good fortune. It may be as simple as being at one of those points in the normal course of growing older and facing new roles and dealing with new realities.

The difference is, our lives are not a Hollywood movie. We may not receive a sign foreshadowing the way forward.

The world of evangelical spirituality from which I came, it seems to me, is not adequately suited to provide support for people facing these perplexing transitions in life. Revivalistic piety is essentially one dimensional. Read your Bible. Pray. Attend church and listen to sermons. Be active in the church. Witness to those around you. Pursue personal holiness (i.e. avoid sins and cultivate good habits). This is usually preached as though it were a one-size-fits-all garment that will stretch to fit any person, apply in any situation, and equip one to face any challenge.

On the odd chance that life’s changes are acknowledged, too often spiritual leaders give wandering believers a false notion of perceptible, measurable progress in the Christian life. They communicate the idea that there is a definable pattern of personal development.

Over the years, the spiritual life has been likened to a journey. That suggests a road with recognizable landmarks and destinations. It has also been envisioned in terms of climbing a ladder, though Protestants have usually been suspicious of this as advocating a system of meritorious works. But this is not a leftover relic from medieval theology. Mission statements of many contemporary churches are quite explicit that they expect certain measurable evidences of “growth” to become apparent in the lives of their members. However, I agree with Henry Nouwen, who said, “It is of great importance that we leave the world of measurements behind when we speak about the life of the Spirit.”

I don’t want to be hyper-critical, but I doubt that many so-called spiritual leaders today would cede control over the message and the process long enough to admit “that there is no right way that is going to become apparent to you once and for all.”

I also wonder how many of us in churches and Christians communities have enough courage to stand up and say, “I feel like I’m out in the middle of the country at a crossroads. North, south, east, west — in every direction a long and winding road stretches out before me, extending to a vague horizon. I don’t see a single sign guiding me toward the way I should take. It’s like I’m in a wilderness, lost, alone, without a compass.”

If we did, would anyone listen?

And where might we find courage and faith to move on?

Sunday with Michael Spencer: The lived spiritual life is a frequent contradiction

Blazing Supercell. Photo by Chris Davis at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Sunday with Michael Spencer
The lived spiritual life is a frequent contradiction

I remember the depths of my own dark night in September of 2001. I was at the point of breaking down and being unable to preach or teach, a condition I had never faced before. I was as far from God as it was possible to be, and I felt myself in the grip of despair. But I came to work every day. I taught. I preached–with unparalleled fear and shame–and I ministered to others. In my community of faith, these daily activities filled in the empty places, and in these moments I experienced the mixture of despair and faith that the Psalms report to us again and again. Where are you God? I cannot see you or sense you, but you are there. In the very absence, there is a different and sustaining kind of presence. This was not a certain absence–which so many flippantly assume–but a mysterious presence, entirely congruent with what I know of myself and of the God of the Bible.

The lived spiritual life is a frequent contradiction. I reject the kind of “victorious life” formulaic teaching I grew up hearing in fundamentalist circles, and I must also reject the kind of consumeristic emotional junk food that is found everywhere in evangelicalism as a substitute for the presence of God. As much as I count myself a Christian hedonist, I am suspicious that “Delight yourself in the Lord” is often deeply and significantly misunderstood.

The assurance of God’s presence and the certainties of answered questions are not the same thing. I find far more rational certainty in the resurrection than I do existential experience of the presence of Jesus. Spiritual experience takes the shape of the incarnation itself, with God inhabiting a fallen world where human beings have become insensitive, fearful and callous to the glory of God that pours forth from every crack of the universe. If the fall is true, then none of us are “in tune” with the presence of God, and particular theologies of God’s presence may let us down profoundly.

The kinds of doubts that I read in Mother Teresa’s memoirs make me wonder what kind of expectations of God’s presence are made in the Roman Catholic theology of religious vocation? What kinds of stories of God’s presence are collected around the theology of the Eucharistic presence of Christ? I am not the person to answer these questions, but I know my own tradition has its own collection of promises and mythology that ignore the typical experience of human nature.

Where do I look for the presence of God? I have learned that looking for such signs in a spirituality of isolation is pointless. For me, the presence of God meets me in community. In worship. In narrative. In story. In communal prayer. In the imitation of Jesus in serving others. At times, it arrives with surprise, and departs abruptly. The wind blows where it will, and we are pilgrims in the life of prayer and faith. We are not called to be pretenders of certainties that do not exist in our experience.

Because my tradition devalues the sacraments, I can rarely look for the presence of God there, but I surely would come to the Lord’s Table as often as possible, not for a magic dispensation of awareness of God, but entirely because God does meet me in the places where He promised to be present, even if I am not emotionally registering that presence. The life of faith is exactly that: the silent moment of believing the promise of a God who may overwhelm, or hide; come near in glory or hide in darkness.

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: July 27, 2019 — Politics free edition

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The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: July 27, 2019

Today’s Brunch is a “politics free” zone. We had enough of that yesterday, as you can see in the action shot above, taken from yesterday’s comment section. So today, just relax, laugh, and tend your wounds.

• • •

No politics — well, except maybe for this…

A dark horse presidential candidate has come out of nowhere: Larry the Cucumber. He shot to fame almost immediately after his promise of giving everyone a water buffalo.

“When I am president, everyone will have a water buffalo,” he said at a campaign speech. “Yours may be fast, and mine may be slow, but the important thing is that we’re achieving total equality when it comes to water buffalo possession in this nation.” Cucumber admitted he doesn’t have a plan, however, for where he will get them. “Where will we get them? Uh… I don’t know. But everyone will have a water buffalo!”

From The Babylon Bee

Larry could win the evangelical vote, but these pop culture standards never will…

• • •

Here at the Saturday Brunch, we proudly serve…

SOURCE: The Church Curmudgeon

• • •

Bob Dylan Set to Release “Even Slower Train Coming” Album

After turning 75 this week, legendary folk-rock artist Bob Dylan has decided to go back into the studio and remix some of his classic albums so they will appeal more to people his own age…and also to Mennonites.

Mennonites have always appreciated Dylan’s nasal voice, and have imitated his signature sound in their church singing. Dylan, it seems, is finally capitalizing on his popularity with the conservative religious group, by re-releasing his seminal Christian rock album “Slow Train Coming,” this time at half the tempo.

“In addition to slowing it right down, I’ve also eliminated drums and electric guitar. It’s basically an a cappella album – Mennonites love that stuff,” said Dylan from his Malibu mansion. “For decades people thought that Christian music thing was just a phase. But now the gospel train is back, and it’s slower than ever!”

Label execs are enthusiastic about the new speed, and believe it can appeal to more than just Mennonites.

“We kind of feel that Dylan can be the new Chris Tomlin, but, like, you know, slower,” said Columbia rep Marilynn Bouton. “If we can get his songs sung in worship services, this album’s gonna sell like hotcakes. He’s really hit on an untapped niche–and that is Christian songs sung really really really slow.”

Dylan’s label has also sent thousands of clothespins to American churches. An accompanying letter encourages church worship leaders to affix the clothespin to their noses to replicate that unmistakable Dylan sound.

From The Daily Bonnet

Unfortunately, it will probably end up looking and sounding like this…

What would Brother Martin say?

• • •

And more on church music…

HOUMA, LA—Local churchgoer Herb Patterson took a knee in protest Sunday morning as the worship band added a chorus into classic hymn “Before the Throne of God Above.” (SOURCE: The Babylon Bee)

A recent survey performed by CCLI confirmed that AC/DC’s hard rock classic “Highway to Hell” is more theologically accurate than 96% of the songs that most worship bands play on any given Sunday. (SOURCE: The Babylon Bee)

SEATTLE. To avoid problems with lyric slides, an innovative church printed out songs and compiled them Into a book, placing them around the room so that anyone can grab one and sing along. (SOURCE: The Babylon Bee)

• • •

Recent Odd News Stories…

REUTERS. A Lithuanian couple won the World Wife-Carrying Championship for a second time in a row in the Finnish town of Sonkajarvi on Saturday, triumphing in a contest where men complete an obstacle course with their wives slung over their shoulders.

REUTERS. A French inventor failed in his attempt to cross the English Channel on a jet-powered hoverboard on Thursday when he was knocked into the water as he landed on a boat-mounted refueling platform, his technical team said.

An In-N-Out burger mysteriously appeared on a Queens street over the weekend despite the nearest restaurant being over 1,500 miles away. Lincoln Boehm posted a picture of the perfectly wrapped ‘Double Double’ burger after discovering it near the Jamaica Long Island Rail Road station on Saturday.

Montreal’s Annual “Just For Laughs” Festival…


Left: The duo of magicians Panachés on their Castelet voyageur; Right: Colorful installation and plastic laugh. (Joannie Lafrenière for NPR)


Left: A magician (duo Panachés) on a bike; Right: A contrasting duet, Les sumos du Japon. (Joannie Lafrenière for NPR)


Left: Pablo, a giant marionette dances and plays with ballerina Atharina; Right: Monsieur Gazon prepares to juggle fire on a unicycle. (Joannie Lafrenière for NP

Montreal’s annual Just For Laughs festival is best-known as a showcase for current and future stars of stand-up comedy. Not as well known to people who’ve never been here is that laughs of all kinds can be found outdoors, for free, throughout Montreal’s cultural district, the Quartiere des Spectacles. Professional musicians, magicians, acrobats, jugglers, puppeteers — the outdoor performers’ punch lines don’t need words. That helps, since Just For Laughs/Juste Pour Rire is a bilingual festival for both French and English speaking performers and fans. The outdoor side is also family friendly so the streets — closed off to cars, not clowns — are crawling with kids.

“This year I told my team that I want people to laugh at every 15 feet,” says Patrick Rozon, Vice President for all content — indoors and out — for Juste Pour Rire, the Francophone side of the festival. He says what happens outdoors is just as highly programmed as what happens inside the comedy clubs.

From NPR

• • •

It sounds like a movie…

David Glasheen has lived for over two decades on Queensland’s Restoration Island. (Photo: Aubrey Comben)

David Glasheen built a multi-million dollar mining company in Australia. Then he lost it all in the stock market crash of 1987. Then his marriage broke down. His life was dramatically transformed and began spiraling out of control.

Then one day a friend happened to mention remote Restoration Island in far north Queensland, 2500km from Sydney. David Glasheen arrived there to see it for himself 22 years ago, and he has never left. Glasheen has survived ever since by catching his own fish, trapping rainwater, and eating veggies from his garden and fruit from four native fruit trees he planted. Once a year he travels to Cairn for a big shopping expedition. He keeps food in a small solar-powered freezer or in freezers on friends’ boats.

He has developed good relationships with commercial fishermen in the area and welcomes locals from the town of Lockhart (about 40 km away) for company. Other than that, it’s just Glasheen, the dingoes and crocodiles.

David Glasheen in his shack on Restoration Island

Glasheen is getting ready to turn 76 years old, and he broke a hip earlier this year. But he has recovered, and he lives, he says, by “managing danger” each and every day.

More than anything else, David Glasheen says that Restoration Island did exactly that for him. In fact, Glasheen says he’ll see out his final days on Restoration Island.

“I live in heaven — why would you leave heaven?” he says. “I’m literally born again by being up here.”

The “Millionaire Castaway” (the title of the book he has written about his life) has had a lot of sadness and conflict in his family, including a child who took her own life several years ago. David misses his family, he says, and hopes to do more traveling in days to come to begin connecting with them again.

An annual shop provides the chance to stock up on supplies like rice and pasta. (Photo: Alvaro Cerezo)

Solitude and the challenge of living day to day in these circumstances proved to be David Glasheen’s salvation at a time in his life when he could have easily ended it all.

“I was one of the very, very fortunate people that instead of maybe committing suicide, which a lot of people would have done, I found this place.

“This island has restored me in every which way I can imagine.”

It’s the stuff of dreams, fairy tales, and classic adventure novels. David Glasheen is living it.

May grace and peace be with him.

SOURCES:

Open Forum: July 2019

Open Forum: July 2019

I have had a busy week as our hospice organization is going through some changes, which involve extra training and transitions, so I haven’t had time to put together my Friday post on Romans. We’ll catch up next week.

Today, we’ll let you choose what you want to discuss. As with all our Open Forum conversations, we just ask that you keep things civil and respectful.

Have a great Friday.

God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey, Chapter 9 – Bogeys in the Evolutionary Coal Cellar

God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey

Chapter 9 – Bogeys in the Evolutionary Coal Cellar

We will continue our review of God’s Good Earth: The Case for an Unfallen Creation, by Jon Garvey.  Today is Chapter 9 – Bogeys in the Evolutionary Coal Cellar.  We are now in Section 3- The Science.   In Section 3 he looks at the evidence for “natural evil” in the world itself as science observes it, and why nature is now so widely perceived as cruel and malevolent, when once it wasn’t.  This section is also a study on how ideas gain or lose plausibility, and how evidence comes to be considered significant or to be disregarded.  

Jon begins this chapter by quoting from scientists, including Christians, who have emphasized nature’s “darkness”.  He quotes Robert J. Russell, physicist and theologian (Russell, Cosmology, p.242):

… it is hard to deny that nature “red in tooth and claw” is a suffering nature, full of agony, of pitiful and often senseless death, blind alleys, merciless waste, brute force.  Is it entirely anthropomorphic to recognize in pre-human nature something which eventually becomes that which in the human realm is evil?

Karl Giberson, cofounder with Francis Collins of the evolutionary creation organization Biologos said:

The natural world has some terrible creatures in it, and it is hard to imagine God intentionally designing such nasty things.  In 1860 Darwin even raised this in a letter to the American biologist, Asa Gray:

“I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent & omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae (wasp) with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars, or that a cat should play with mice.”

Creationist have long tried to wiggle off this particular hook by arguing that the nasty features of the world are the consequences of human sin—by-products of the curse.  But the truly nasty stuff precedes the appearance of humans, which makes this argument suspect at best.

Another claim that God sits at arm’s length from a morally dubious evolutionary process (which is also the sole means of biological creation) comes from theologian Keith Ward:

If natural science shows that many genetic mutations are fatally harmful to organisms, that is a strong indication that any theory of creation that attributes every event to the directly intended action of a good and omnipotent God is mistaken.

Ichneumon Wasp

Jon has already made the argument that such sentiments ignore the clear teaching of Scripture and historic theology that God is the sole Creator and sustainer of everything in the world, even of those things that might appear wild or even harmful to us.  Now he attempts to show that such rhetoric is just that—rhetoric overblown with hyperbole.  He notes that if you are committed to a belief that the existence of anything harmful in nature cannot be consistent with God’s existence or with his love, then you will not be impressed with his counter-arguments.

His basic argument then, is that even though suffering certainly exists, the polemic of “nature red in tooth and claw” is wildly exaggerated and not a true representative picture of reality.  He deals with the specifically “evolutionary” problems such as extinctions, evolutionary “blind alleys”, merciless waste, arms races, and evil design.  In the next chapter he deals with what he calls the “myth of selfish evolution”.

ExtinctionsIt is routinely said to be wasteful for God to create so many departed species, but that is meaningless; God can create things for their own sake, to last for a season.  Besides the average lifetime of a species is estimated as upwards of a million years—150 times as long than the age granted to the whole earth by young earth creationists.  And he can justly create them for a temporary role, such as the species believed to have “terraformed” the earth’s atmosphere with oxygen in the Precambrian era.

Blind Alleys – Evolutionary “blind alleys” and “failures”, it is held, demonstrate the existence of purposeless evolution.  How would we even recognize such a “failed experiment” if we did find its fossil.  It would represent a species that once lived, and a live species is, by definition, more or less successful.  Low or declining numbers might be because a species is a failure—but more likely because the species occupies a niche that is disappearing.  How would we tell that any fossil is a “dead end”?  Extreme body plans are no guide.  We can have little idea of the entire world a strange fossil creature lived in, so it’s impossible to be sure how rare it was, because all agree the fossil record is at least somewhat patchy. Plenty of today’s common plants and animals are weird, but highly successful.

Merciless Waste – Critics point to the vast reproductive rates, and almost equally vast mortalities, of certain species as evidence of criminal waste in the world.  Examples might be the immense number of mosquitos devoured annually by migrant birds in Siberia, or the huge clouds of plankton consumed by shoals of billions of sardines that in turn, largely succumb to predators like dolphins and sharks.  But this is pure anthropomorphism.  We humans produce a few children—each a rational soul—and hope all will live long and prosper, but these other species were created as the basis of the food chain.  The idea of “waste” is plausible only because of the biologist’s artificial focus on the individual struggle to survive.  But ecologically, nothing whatsoever is wasted, since everything depends on everything else, including plankton species recycling dolphin and shark waste.

Arms Races — An evolutionary “arms race” is seen as the progressive mutual adaptation of a predator and its prey, and therefore as textbook evidence for adaptive evolution.  A common example is the cheetah and Thompson’s gazelle, whose evolution has increased the speed and agility of both, it is said.  This process is somehow seen as evidence against God as Creator.  Richard Dawkins (Dawkins, The Greatest Show on Earth, p.384) has said:

The cheetah, if we are going to talk design at all, is superbly designed for killing gazelles.  But the very same designer has equally strained every nerve to design a gazelle that is superbly equipped to escape from those very same cheetahs.  For heaven’s sake, whose side is the designer on?

But we have seen that the biblical God provides prey for the lions, so presumably for cheetahs too.  And in the same passage he plays midwife to the mountain goats, so presumably to the gazelle as well.  The “designer” is therefore on the side of both species, for the good of all—and that has been known from antiquity—and if that troubles our human sensibilities that is our problem.

Evil Design – Carnivores, parasites, spiders eating their mates or lions their rival’s cubs, bonobos being promiscuous, chimps waging war, and Venus flytraps utterly perverting the Genesis 1:8 command by eating animals.  Are these things evil or the work of a fallen creation?  But parasites play the same role as top-level predators in many ecosystems, keeping numbers in balance. Aren’t we exhibiting a double standard base on mere prejudice?  Jon says:

Theologically, the key to all this is to understand what theologians like Augustine knew long ago, that the moral law given to us by God was just that — given to us.  It was the law suited specifically to our human nature, which had we not sinned would have natural to us still, as those made after the image and likeness of Christ, and which will again become natural once our salvation is complete.  It is the law of human nature, as that nature was created to be… And if he is so much higher than us that the law of our lowly nature does not reach up to him, why should we expect our moral law to apply to lower natures?

…We do not, of course, have to imitate the example of the beasts – their law is not our law.  We may even, like some Bible writers and many medievals, use them proverbially as examples to emulate or avoid.  But “evil”?  In God’s good creation?  Perhaps we should remember the words of God to Peter: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” Especially when he long ago pronounce it “very good”.

 

Wednesday with Michael Spencer: On Resacramentalizing Evangelicalism

Trees of Mystery. Photo by Kyle Greenberg at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Wednesday with Michael Spencer
On Resacramentalizing Evangelicalism

Evangelicals have an issue with sacraments. Mention the word to them and they start fidgeting in their seats and thumbing their Bibles.

It’s an interesting historical story. A sacrament is something in the physical world that mediates or communicates the presence, power, promises and/or grace of God. Various Christian theologies approach the exact language and reality differently, but the essence of sacramentalism is that if X is present or Y is done, then God is somehow present and at work, no matter what else may be happening.

When Luther called for reformation in Rome (and when Rome later excommunicated him for his criticisms), Luther deserted almost none of his core Catholic sacramentalism, even though he rejected strongly the abuses associated with many of the church’s seven sacraments. His views on Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were quite similar (not identical) to what Catholics believed. Luther reduced the sacraments to three. Anglicans and Presbyterians to two. All these reformation churches kept some version of pre-reformation sacramental thinking because it was Biblical.

For example, the reading/preaching of the Word is described in clearly sacramental ways in reformation theology. The announcement of forgiveness (absolution) is a sacrament for Lutherans. The arrangement of the church facility itself reflected sacramental thinking and an order connected to the presence of God.

Because of this kind of sacramentalism, reformation churches tended to want to simplify worship and to hold on to the prominence of the sacraments in worship without the distractions they believed had accumulated in Roman Catholicism. Sacramentally related aspects of worship itself were also prominent. This led to a distinctive way of thinking about who was the church, what was happening in gathered worship, when and how was God at work in the world and so forth. The font, the table/altar, the scriptures and the pulpit were the anchors of worship in reformation Christianity.

The evangelical movement (yes Lutherans, I know, but it’s too late) had a different view of sacraments. One can see it in movements as disparate as the radical reformers, the Puritans and the Methodists. By the time the evangelical movement is fully birthed in the Wesleyan revival and eventually in the frontier and Pentecostal awakenings in America, the new focus has become the present action of the Holy Spirit, but not tied to the sacraments. It is the emphasis on the present work of the Holy Spirit in ways that are powerful and effective, but much less predictable and consistent. The Spirit now was coming in relation to other factors: what was preached, how men prayed, the genuineness of desire for revival, the seriousness of repentance, etc.

Evangelicals now tend to view the reformation churches as “assuming” all kinds of things that may not be true. Listen to a modern evangelical describe what’s wrong with mainline churches: they are “dead.” The people are unconverted. God isn’t present. It’s all empty ritual. They need revival and a true visitation of the Spirit. This is evangelicalism evaluating its parent and finding her seriously wanting. Like all adolescents, we can hope for improvement with maturity.

Now I am an evangelical, and I believe that the present power of the Spirit is crucial. I believe religion can be dead, and it concerns me whenever there is not evidence of Jesus shaped fruit coming from people who claim to belong to Christ by baptism, etc. I believe much of the glory of the new covenant is exactly at the point of the Spirit doing, through the Gospel of Jesus, a transformative work so that Gospel-love for God and mercy for people is evident in lively ways. It concerns me deeply that the reformation churches often seem conflicted over what it means to be a “Great Commission” people beyond baptizing their own children. These are genuine evangelical concerns that I affirm.

But evangelicals are in sacramental chaos, and the results are quite obvious. Evangelicals are “re-sacramentalizing” in an uncritical and unbiblical way. The Planetshakers article was good evidence, but you can see and hear it everywhere.

What are our evangelical sacraments? Where will evangelicals defend the idea that “God is dependably at work?”

  • We have sacramentalized technology.
  • We have sacramentalized the pastor and other leaders.
  • We have sacramentalized music. (i.e. the songs themselves and the experience of singing.)
  • We have sacramentalized leaders of musical worship.
  • We have sacramentalized events. (God is here!)
  • We have sacramentalized the various forms of the altar call.
  • We have sacramentalized the creation of an emotional reaction.

We’ve done all of this, amazingly, while de-emphasizing and theologically gutting baptism. (I’m not buying everyone’s baptismal theology here. I’m simply saying the standard approach now is nothing more than could be accomplished by having someone jump through a hoop.)

We’ve done this while reducing the Lord’s Supper to a relatively meaningless, optional recollection. (And being deeply suspicious of anyone making it more than a glorified sermon illustration.)

We’ve done this while removing any aspects of sacramentalism from our worship and even our architecture. (Public reading of scripture, hymns, tables/altars, baptisteries, pulpits.)

And we’ve given over to whomever wants to speak up the power to say what God is saying, what God is doing, what God is using, what God thinks of whatever we’re doing, what the Spirit is up to and so on.

For example, in the next three months, you can bet your remaining life savings that someone will tell us that God is NOW using church X or method Y or person Z because the official discernment squad said so. (And ditto for saying what God is not doing, who God is not using, etc. from the discernment squad on the other side of the street.)

What’s the answer?

We need to re-sacramentalize our worldview in its entirety. Go read some Anglicans or Catholics about that. We’re ridiculously secularist and modernist in so much of our thinking, and so selective and inconsistent in our idea of how God relates to physical things.

We need to reclaim sacramental thinking in the church and not be such knee jerk opponents of the idea that God dependably uses the physical, sensual rituals Jesus endorsed. We can still argue about the exact way these sacraments operate, but we need to approach preaching, the scriptures, baptism and the Lord’s Supper with a sense that God has committed himself to these things. Yes, faith is the response and No, I am not arguing in favor of everyone’s idea of efficacious sacraments. But many of us have evangelical roots that were far more friendly to the sacraments than we are. We should reclaim those roots and study them closely.

We should adopt a post-evangelical approach to seeing the resources of the broader, deeper, more ancient faith as connected to our own traditions. Again, read some Lutherans, Anglicans and Catholics. Understand that the history of Christianity didn’t start in 1969. See what’s been stored away in our past that we’ve overlooked. Especially read the older evangelical writings on the LS, Baptism and the actual theology and practice of gathered worship.

Find some way to slow down our commitment to pragmatism. Every discussion like this features several people who are leading worship in churches they believe have gone off the rails, and they don’t know how to stop the insane, rampant, “Big Picture/Big Noise” mentality. You just have to say, “we’re going to slow down and think. We’re going to have some theology of worship that evaluates rather than justifies what we’re doing.”

Go visit some reformation churches. Consider how the sacramentalism they’ve held on to could influence your own understanding of worship and the church and enhance your mission of creating/teaching disciples.

Don’t just imitate the latest thing, the latest technology or the latest worship guru. Boldly be a Biblically committed servant and leader. Simplify. Be God centered and God aware. Resacramentalize your own thinking and leadership.

Your mission, IM readers, is to “resacramentalize evangelicalism.”

Fr. Freeman on the Two-Storey vs. the One-Storey Universe

Wonder. Photo by David Cornwell at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Christians must live in a way and learn a manner of understanding that allows the reintegration of the world.

• Fr. Stephen Freeman

• • •

Many of my earliest religious memories are connected with funerals. I came from a large extended family, all of whom lived in the same county. It was inevitable that death would visit my family on a regular basis. Funerals themselves were primarily directed to the living. The dead were respectfully laid to rest. Displays of strong emotion were discouraged. The day of a funeral often concluded with a long covered-dish dinner at my grandparents’, at which children played as always and conversation moved quickly to its perennial subjects: family, farming, and automobiles.

When the dead were buried, they were generally dead and gone. There was little conversation about heaven, even less about hell. The Protestant world had no purgatory; thus no further thought was given to the departed other than to offer comfort to those who felt their loss most keenly. There were no services to pray for their souls, no candles to be lit, and no conversation about their eternal disposition. Death brought an end to this life, and though we were taught to believe in a life after death, our experience was often an emptiness with no thoughts to fill the void.

What was clear in all this was the finality of death. There was an unspoken distance between the living and the dead, and nothing was to disturb it. No one seemed to notice that God Himself was separated from us by the same distance. For if the dead are with Jesus and are now at an unspoken distance, how far away must Jesus be? The distance between God and the world was an unspoken part of the landscape in which I lived. Belief in God was nearly universal, and yet that belief did little to shape daily life. There was a moral connection, a sense that our world was related to God through the things it “ought” to do, or through the things it “should” believe. But a great gulf was fixed between the dwelling place of God and the stage on which daily life occurred. Few things illustrated that gulf more clearly than the absence of those who had died.

The shape of the universe of my childhood was not the invention of Southern Protestantism. It was part of a much larger culture, forged in the crucible of the Protestant Reformation and the birth of the modern world in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Today it is the dominant shape of the universe shared by most cultures of the modern Western world. It is the universe in which modern believers live. It is also a universe increasingly hostile to religious belief.

I have come to think of this modern cultural construct as the “two-storey universe.” It is as though the universe were a two-storey house: We live here on earth, the first floor, where things are simply things and everything operates according to normal, natural laws, while God lives in heaven, upstairs, and is largely removed from the storey in which we live. To effect anything here, God must interrupt the laws of nature and perform a miracle. Exactly how often He does this is a matter of debate among Christians and many others within our culture—often measured by just how conservative or liberal their religion may be. The effects of this distance are all-encompassing in the area of religious experience and belief, and frequently in other areas as well.

Everywhere Present: Christianity in a One-Storey Universe (ch. 1)