Undeception

Evolution caught in the act: US-German team measures how quickly genomes change

Mutations are the raw material of evolution. Charles Darwin already recognized that evolution depends on heritable differences between individuals: those who are better adapted to the environment have better chances to pass on their genes to the next generation. A species can only evolve if the genome changes through new mutations, with the best new variants surviving the sieve of selection. Scientists at the Max Planck Institute for Developmental Biology in Tübingen, Germany, and Indiana University in Bloomington have now been able to measure for the first time directly the speed with which new mutations occur in plants. Their findings shed new light on a fundamental evolutionary process. They explain, for example, why resistance to herbicides can appear within just a few years. (Science, January 1, 2010)

Source: Max Planck Society – Press Release.

To those of us interested in human evolution and how it might still be occurring:

Turning to the larger picture, Weigel suggests that changes in the human genome are at least as rapid as in Arabidopsis: “If you apply our findings to humans, then each of us will have on the order of 60 new mutations that were not present in our parents.” With more than six billion people on our planet, this implies that on average each letter of the human genome is altered in dozens of fellow citizens. “Everything that is genetically possible is being tested in a very short period,” adds Lynch, emphasizing a very different view than perhaps the one we are all most familiar with: that evolution reveals itself only after thousands, if not millions of years.

The other night, a friend and I reiterated our independent observations that, despite all nuances, what ultimately stands behind most of American Christianity’s implacable dedication to inerrancy is fear. Dr. Jim Kidder, in so many words, makes the same point. The following quote certainly rings familiar.

For many people, this is not a scientific issue, it is a moral one. Even when having conversations with my wife, it is not uncommon for her to say that she understands the evidence and accepts it but that the ramifications make her uncomfortable. Indeed, both the ID side and the new atheists write that “Darwinism” is dangerous. The reasons are similar but the motives are different. Both argue that it leads one away from faith.

This is where I’m so baffled. Have these people not encountered the risen Christ in a dynamic way? I assure you as one who’s come through this process, letting go of inerrancy is an act of faith in the One who should be standing behind our beliefs, whom we have encountered in some meaningful way. Why should acknowledging that even the ancient believers whose testaments to God’s work became our Bible might not have been omniscient nullify what most evangelicals claim as the heart of our faith, our relationship with God? From where I stand, slavish, ritualistic belief in a set of rigid propositions strikes me as much more a “religion” than a “relationship” (to evoke a phrase I have always despised).

Commenting on some remarks from a well-spoken non-inerrantist that sound very much in line with some of my beliefs on Scripture, Kidder says:

This is the start of the “slippery slope” argument that is soundly resisted by most purveyors of the YEC model—Genesis must be read literally or else there is no barometer for how we should read scripture at all.

If I had a dime for every time I’ve encountered this objection, I’d be one wealthy son of a gun. But in the end, it’s simply a fear-based, not a faith-based (much less an evidence-based) approach to the issue.

Is all truth not God’s truth? Which is scarier? Coming to terms with the fact that our neat and tidy theological suppositions are merely comfortable illusions, or living our lives and training our children in oblivion and careful isolation from the possibility that we’re wrong and that even those without faith in God might be right on some matters? Is it really so horrifying that Christianity might actually ought to be a religion based upon something other than a flawless paper idol?

Be sure to read Jim’s whole post.

Today Joel Watts posted a quote from one of the Early Church Fathers on the subject of the Eucharist (a.k.a. the Lord’s Supper or Communion):

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Savior, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles, in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, said, “This do ye in remembrance of Me, this is My body;” and that, after the same manner, having taken the cup and given thanks, He said, “This is My blood;” and gave it to them alone. [Emphasis all Steve's]

This wasn’t post-Nicea, folks. The doctrine of transubstantiation, or Real Presence, which teaches that the bread and wine literally become Christ’s body and blood upon the blessing from the Church leader, goes way back.  The above quote was from Justin Martyr in his First Apology (ch. 66), written about 155. When looking at the Early Church Fathers, we don’t get a whole lot earlier than Justin Martyr. Interestingly, wider context shows that his main point wasn’t even that the elements became Christ’s body and blood — that was a given — but that the Church leadership was entrusted with the administration of the sacrament. And it’s clear that Justin is under the impression that this teaching was handed down by the Apostles, so at very least it well predates 155.

I’m not taking a position on whether he was right or wrong here, but that this was an exceptionally early witness to a doctrine that many “orthodox” Protestants who highly depend upon “historic, orthodox Christianity” nevertheless reject (this was not true of Martin Luther, who insisted on a literal interpretation of “Hoc est corpus meam,” meaning “This is my body.”). These same orthodoxy-loving Protestants characteristically dismiss out of hand all kinds of perfectly compelling textual, historical, and scientific evidence that contradicts what they regard as the teaching of “historic Christianity”.

From my experience, dissenting from another Christian’s belief on the grounds that it has somehow departed ways with “historic Christianity” is simply the most convenient way of ignoring that belief without having to address it honestly. Granted, not all beliefs warrant the same level of scrutiny before being put on the back shelf or dismissed; I certainly wouldn’t expect everyone to personally debunk every shady conspiracy theory, fantastic claim, or alternative explanation with transparently misguided motivations. But many other beliefs deserve to be examined and not simply ignored, particularly when they’re held by other well-intentioned, critical thinking believers. Letting the question of whether a point of view is right or wrong be answered solely by an appeal to ”orthodoxy” is not critical thinking: it’s blind faith that an intellectually honest lover of truth should not allow to be kept under lock and key to exempt it from analysis and authentication.

I generally like World magazine. Oh, there’s plenty I disagree with in every issue, but one thing editor Marvin Olasky and his team just seem to get that so many other Christian publications don’t is that the core expression of our faith is in ministry to humanity. I’ll regularly be punching the air at their blind adherence to evangelical mainstays like neoconservative politics at one moment, and at the next, blinking back tears as they highlight Christian individuals and organizations making the kind of difference in the world that I regularly campaign for but all too rarely see in action.

For the last twelve years, they’ve recognized individuals who they find to have used their big stage influence to courageously stand up against a predominant but ungodly culture/power/ethical system. These individuals are deemed “Daniel of the Year”. This year it’s none other than Intelligent Design advocate Stephen Meyer.

Yes, this is actually a picture from the magazine.

The article presents all kinds of pathetic accounts of how beleaguered by Darwin worshippers he and other ID proponents are (“ID proponents regularly receive that type of harassment: No lion’s den, but denials of tenure and media depiction as anti-science”) along with a heaping helping of wishful thinking about the success of ID (“…scientific advance is now backing ID…”). At times it’s enough to make it difficult for anyone who actually pays attention to the debate (rather than some cheerleading news filter for either side) to refrain from slapping his/her forehead at the oversimplification and misinformation.

But these criticisms aren’t why I’m calling attention to this article. For what it’s worth, Stephen Meyer, as a truly courageous advocate of what he believes, who actually stands up and debates mainstream science advocates, certainly deserves the recognition of people who share his beliefs, so this choice should at least be acknowledged as internally consistent.

I’m calling attention to something else. It was my wife who pointed out to me when I groaned after seeing the cover of our issue of World that this recognition from yet another high profile Christian media source relates to my post, “How big a deal is this evolution thing, anyway?” and the related poll (currently in the sidebar). As I realized when I posed that question, some of my friends and other Christians aren’t so sure why I harp on this subject: “Does it really matter that much?” My wife admitted that she has sometimes wondered if she’s only really aware of the debate because her crazy husband’s off on some tangent, but as she pointed out, this is not some passing fancy for only a few of us. The debate is a mainstay.

In corroboration of this observation, at the time of this writing, there are only 45 votes in my poll, but I find it not insignificant that no one has yet voted for merely “Unimportant”, although 3 have voted for “Worse than unimportant” — important that we ignore the debate, that is, which is in effect acknowledging its significance.

This debate isn’t going anywhere because neither the devoted scientists nor the devout special creationists are letting it drop. The real problem is that neither the loud devoted atheists (not at all the same group as “devoted scientists”) nor the loud devout special creationists are content to let the Christian faith stand without special creationism as firmly attached as an arm or a leg; non-naturalistic explanations are presented as tied to the very mast of Christianity. Yet I guarantee you, in a few hundred years when everyone but a tiny fringe group of Christianity acknowledges common descent (most likely with no detectable direct supernatural causation), the faith will remain nonetheless. I’m just intent on seeing Christians take the lead for discovering and championing what’s true.

No, not every Christian needs to spend all the time I do embroiled in this discussion. But please, do try not to stand in the way while people like me attempt to clean out the Church’s garage before being presumptuous enough to clean out theirs, particularly since doing so invariably results in their rummaging through our own garage. Their penchant for discarding even what’s precious as useless junk when doing so has led to muddled agnosticism and angry atheism far too many times for us to simply take a “wait and see” approach.

Heck, if you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll listen to this famous quote from St. Augustine:

Usually, even a non-Christian knows something about the earth, the heavens, and the other elements of this world, about the motion and orbit of the stars and even their size and relative positions, about the predictable eclipses of the sun and moon, the cycles of the years and the seasons, about the kinds of animals, shrubs, stones, and so forth, and this knowledge he hold to as being certain from reason and experience. Now, it is a disgraceful and dangerous thing for an infidel to hear a Christian, presumably giving the meaning of Holy Scripture, talking nonsense on these topics; and we should take all means to prevent such an embarrassing situation, in which people show up vast ignorance in a Christian and laugh it to scorn…

If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods and on facts which they themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason?

Translated by J.H. Taylor

These well-made videos from the Cassiopeia Project are excellent and accessible primers about evolutionary theory. I appreciate that, despite their emphasis on why the evidence is clearly and uniformly in favor of evolutionary theory, they’re not polemical about specific claims or objections from evolution critics. There’s no slapping anyone around; the overwhelming evidence for common descent is just presented on its own terms.

There will no doubt be lingering questions about specific creationist claims and objections. But on the whole, I can’t imagine that evolution skeptics will be able to watch all of these and still automatically impute the worst motives for why Christians like me, who might have been otherwise content to hang onto the typical Protestant interpretation of Genesis, have become convinced of common descent. The scientific data is so compelling.

Facts of Evolution

This is the longest segment, but a must-watch all the way through as it gives the widest range of evidence for evolution and common descent.

Hard link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rajouw6zFDY

Mechanisms of Evolution

After showing why scientists are sure that evolution happened in the last video, this one discusses how it happened, focusing on natural selection and genetic drift.

Hard link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uK13zICu9CI

The Highway of Life

This is a compelling presentation showing the history of the world as a trip down the road from the first pre-biological molecules all the way to humans.

Hard link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkoScN9L7hY

Higher quality versions of these videos are available through iTunes U.

Read 1 Cor 5.11-13 (below). The church usually focuses on the words I omitted in the “…” But what about the words I left in? Do we do what Paul instructed? Is our church really very much like the first century church? Do we really want it to be?

“But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who calls himself a Christian who is…greedy…or verbally abusive…or a swindler. Do not even eat with such a person. For what do I have to do with judging those outside? Are you not to judge those inside? But God will judge those outside. Remove the evil person from among you.” (1 Cor 5.11-13)

(Prompted by an insightful comment by RJS at Jesus Creed.)

All Christians generally agree that the Bible was written down by humans, and most agree that in some way their writings are reflective of their individuality; the question comes in with the nature of divine influence.  Where do we draw the line between the human and the divine in Scripture?

Proponents of inerrancy posit that all information in Scripture was directly contributed by God; the specific form of the information as presented is normally regarded as reflective of the personalities and writing styles. A softened version of this view, which I myself held until fairly recently, was of theological concordism, the belief that despite errors in the authors’ understanding of peripheral matters, all pertinent information in Scripture was (directly or indirectly) contributed by God.

More along the lines of the latter is an analogy for understanding the nature of Scripture known as the incarnational model. Popularized by Peter Enns, the incarnational model regards the Bible as fully human and fully divine in a way analogous to the way trinitarian orthodoxy views Jesus. Saying that the Bible is both divine and human as Jesus was naturally leads to an attribution of the aspect of “divinity” to the Bible in a surprising way for a modern monotheist, and despite his denial of such an explicit divine ontology to Scripture in my interaction with him here, it is a weakness of the analogy that in its articulation it tends to force even Dr. Enns himself to sound like he’s contradicting this denial (p. 228 of this article).

The strength of this model as described by Enns is that it encourages exploration of the “human” characteristics of the Bible; to my knowledge, it just hasn’t gone much beyond suggesting that the “humanity” of the text is somehow of a piece with its “divinity”. This view’s proponents are happy enough to bask in the same mystery that exists with the Trinity, and for this reason I have not found it useful for answering the question at hand about where divine influence of the Bible comes in, which it does with a firm but useless “Yes.” To his credit, Dr. Enns has acknowledged that the sources of this model (Hodge, Warfield, Bavinck, et al.) never properly came to grips with what it really means to see that even errors are inspired by the Holy Spirit in the sense of “divine”; nor, to my knowledge, have its proponents progressed much further in this area despite his encouragement.

My discomfort with the analogy behind the model stems from its claim of the “divinity” in the text, which even in its least literal sense is an extraordinary claim for which he offers no compelling (much less extraordinary) evidence. Enns emphasizes that an affirmation of the divine nature of Scripture is warranted primarily by faith: “The ‘divinity’ of Scripture is a confession of faith, not a end product of proof or demonstration.”  He offers no compelling motivation for this faith assumption beyond its effectiveness in the lives of students of Scripture. Yet to acknowledge that the Bible has been used of God mightily is an entirely inadequate basis for affirming its “fully divine” nature. As I remarked to him, “If we claim it’s ‘divine’ just because God has used it effectively to testify to Him and bring others to a full knowledge of His plan of salvation, I know a few pastors and lay people who would be gratified to know that they qualify for this distinction!” In actuality, this model treats the Bible as fully human but tags on the label of “fully divine” without ever really defining what this means. So what we’re left with is a model encouraging exploration of the humanity of the texts with only a vague sense that in doing so, the divine intention behind the whole thing will be apprehended.

Despite these criticisms, and indeed, precisely because of the just described failure of one of its central claims, I find very little practical difference between his view and my own. My biggest problem is that using the incarnational analogy is, I suspect, primarily a way of retaining a mystical component to the Bible that’s regularly assumed among mainstream evangelicals. I don’t know how to justify positing such mysticalness and have seen it as chiefly responsible for hermenutics that over-spiritualize the Bible in harmful ways. “Would it not be a more modest and defensible claim,” I asked Dr. Enns, ”to say simply that Scripture is a tool God ordained as a minister that He has shown an uncommon (even ‘paramount’) preference for and used with uncommon effectiveness as He has seen fit?”

My position is that there definitely was divine intentionality behind the text and divine influence upon it, and that this influence was at times more direct than others (e.g., in certain prophecies and “thus saith the Lord” scenarios), but I ultimately reject the idea of “divinity” intrinsic to the text. I find it most compelling to work within the proposition that the Bible is the direct result of humans interacting with divinity. The best analogy that springs to mind is that Scripture is how the rock shatters when it receives the blow of a hammer: the points of fracture are not individually selected and created by the one wielding the hammer, although his decision to strike, the rock he selects, the location of the blow, and the force with which he strikes it are deliberated and consciously predetermined. (Incidentally, I find this to be in striking harmony with my understanding of His creation of the universe through natural processes.)

I have a hunch that God’s interaction with the modern reader of these ancient Scriptures is more a matter of pneumatology than of bibliology: there’s a crucial difference between affirming that the Spirit of God uses Scripture for certain purposes and claiming that Scripture itself must therefore be “spiritual” in nature and must be interpreted in a special “spiritual” way. What I mean is that a recognition of the Bible’s origination as the interaction of human and divine doesn’t provide new information about its nature that is helpful for determining interpretation. In order to know what it means, we are primarily dependent on treating the Bible as literature, viz. through understanding its authors and their intents, perceptions, prejudices, etc. Practically speaking, it is quite incidental to our interpretation that God is the subject of the Bible. This is related to the profound observation that although the Gallic Wars exercised an influence on Julius Caesar’s writing about that subject, it was Julius Caesar and not the Gallic Wars who authored Commentarii de Bello Gallico. That Julius Ceasar was in fact involved in wars with the Gauls is known through outside corroboration (none of which is infallible, of course); that the authors of Scripture interacted with God is supported by outside corroboration, particularly the kinds of things Enns offers as evidences of its “divinity”, things like its life-changing qualities (again, not infallible witnesses).

I go looking for a moniker or designation for the view of Scripture I have described that presents itself as another model in contradistinction to inerrancy, theological concordism, and the incarnational model (certainly one more modest than “the right view”), but suspect that my view would likeliest be, as ambiguously as dismissively, classified simply as a “liberal approach” to Scripture. It’s not “my” view, since I did not create it and have not contributed significant new insights about it, so I don’t expect to definitively name it. However, as I know of no better alternatives and will find it convenient to summarize this view within my own writings under a specific term, I am leaning toward referring to the view I have described in this post as a ministerial model, in reference to my comment to Dr. Enns quoted above.

Can you identify any weaknesses in the idea of Scripture as “minister” or as “tool of choice”? Can you suggest a better analogy than “tool”, “minister”, or “Incarnation”?