Monday, June 17, 2019

Top 5 Books of 2017: #4–Necessary Endings (Repost from Dec. 19, 2017)

Each day this week I'm going to post one book that made my top 5 list in 2017, building up from number five to number one. I'd love to see what your favorite books of the year have been as well, and I welcome your comments!

#4 Necessary Endings by Henry Cloud

This has been the best leadership book I've read in the past couple years, which may not be saying much since I'm a rather infrequent peruser of leadership books. My own inexperience aside, Cloud finely articulates how many of us get stuck personally and how organizations get stuck due to an inability to recognize when something needs to end and acting accordingly. Some of the nuggets that Dr. Cloud gave me in the book: the difference between hurting to heal and hurting to harm, the importance of finding and facing reality, knowing that unending hope in ineffective practices is a curse while hopelessness can be a gift, signs of when we need to persist in a difficult season vs. signs of when something needs to end, recognizing incompatible wishes (e.g., I want to eat all the cake and fit in my same jean size), differences in how to handle wise people vs. foolish people vs. evil people, and how to tackle internal and external resistance to change. This book is a treasure trove of wisdom from a PhD psychologist who has consulted with many high performing people and companies. It will give you a framework for how to approach all sorts of difficult conversations and decisions, and it is a tool that God can use to help you pursue his future, making some endings along the way. So if you're feeling stuck, this might just be the book for you.

Top 5 Books of 2017: #5–Why I'm Not a Calvinist (Repost from Dec. 18, 2017)

Each day this week I'm going to post one book that made my top 5 list in 2017, building up from number five to number one. I'd love to see what your favorite books of the year have been as well, and I welcome your comments!

#5 Why I'm Not a Calvinist by Joseph Dongell and Jerry Walls


Ok, I admit: this is like the ultimate echo chamber book for me. I'm an Arminian reading other Arminians who taught at the same seminary I attended concerning why we think we're right. It doesn't get more "let's preach to the choir and all high-five each other" than that. I hope you'll bear with my indulgence. I also know this is a bit of a disagreeable topic and perhaps not the best way to start a series of blog posts. The other four should be shorter and less controversial in comparison. Still, this is legitimately my number five pick, so let's begin.

This book was very informative and I learned several things, like the difference between common grace in Reformed/Calvinist theology and prevenient grace in Arminian/Wesleyan theology (common grace does not have a saving intent behind it), as well as a compatibilist conception of human will. If you're wondering what a Calvinist and an Arminian are and what the heck these words mean, I'm referring to a theological debate that has gone on in the church for many centuries concerning the nature of humanity, grace, salvation, providence, and the character of God. Calvinists (taking their name from the French reformer John Calvin, though really St. Augustine is the original proponent of this theology) believe that before the foundation of the world, God chose some people to be saved and enjoy eternal bliss through Jesus Christ while God also chose some people to be eternally damned, and there is nothing anyone can do to change God's timeless decree. You're either in or you're out. Human beings are not free. Their will is totally bound by sin so that they are incapable of doing good apart from God's intervention. Everything that happens and every choice you make has been determined by God, or, if you're a proponent of compatibilism, God so shapes all circumstances that everything you freely choose happens precisely according to his will. Arminians differ in that they say God in his grace enables people to have a measure of freedom from the deforming and binding power of sin–he enables them to make genuine, free choices. They can choose to receive salvation in Christ by placing their faith in him as Lord and Savior or they can reject Christ. They can choose to honor God in a particular situation or disobey him. God desires all people to be saved and Jesus died for the whole world, but the reason all are not saved is because people use their grace-enabled freedom to reject God, not because some were chosen before the foundation of the world for salvation and some weren't.

This is a debate between Christian brothers and sisters, not between some who are in Christ and some who are out. The differences I'm describing don't strike at the heart of Christianity. There are sisters and brothers who are very godly and intelligent who would disagree with me on this (you may be one of them), and I admit that I could be wrong. I don't have perfect knowledge of all things and don't fully understand God or the Bible. That being said, theology matters, and what you believe about God has implications for how we connect with God and live for him today. We should strive to learn as much as we can in order to live the way God wants us to. The question really comes down to which theological framework makes the most sense out of Scripture and is consistent. That's what theology is: the synthetic task of reading the whole Bible and getting a sense of how to put together the parts into a coherent whole when it comes to God, how we should live, and where this whole thing is going.

Joe Dongell is a Bible scholar and Jerry Walls is a Christian philosopher, and they team up to make a case against Calvinism. I had Dr. Dongell for an Inductive Bible Study class on Romans, and it opened up Paul's letter in a fresh, big way for me. I have a lot of respect for the man. One thing I appreciate in the book is the charitable tone the authors bring to the table toward those with whom they disagree, engaging people's ideas and avoiding the belittling that is so common today (though, if you watch Jerry Walls give talks on the subject, it seems to me he is often unkind toward his theological opponents). Dongell and Walls engage the writings of prominent Calvinist authors like D. A. Carson, J. I. Packer, John Piper, R. C. Sproul, John MacArthur, Sam Storms, Al Mohler, and more. Dongell was very helpful in arguing for interpretive humility as well as offering interpretations of texts commonly championed by Reformed exegetes (e.g., John 6:35-44; Romans 8:29-30; Romans 9; Ephesians 1:3-14). He raises some interesting exegetical questions on whether some Reformed interpretations best make sense out of these passages. Walls tackles things on the philosophical/theological side of the debate, and highlights that both Arminian and Reformed sides make theological and philosophical claims from Scripture. It's unfair to say one is "more biblical" while the other is "more philosophical." You won't find words like determinism, compatibilism, libertarianism, total depravity, limited atonement, supralapsarianism, unconditional election, prevenient grace, and Molinism in the Bible. These are concepts that theologians of various traditions use to help us put together all of what we read in Scripture in a way that makes sense.  

Walls accuses J. I. Packer of trying to hold together two logically inconsistent claims (God determines everything; human beings are free) behind a lot of language about the mystery of God. He goes on to say that a mystery of God and an obvious logical inconsistency are not the same thing. He presses D. A. Carson on whether Calvinist theologians can in any meaningful sense say God loves everyone. If someone isn't elect, God might love them in the sense of showing common grace and sending water for their crops, but he doesn't love them in the sense that really matters and is the ultimate purpose of life: having a life-saving, joy-giving, hope-filled relationship with Jesus Christ. It would be like me saying I love all three of my cats, while I only feed and care for one of them. My actions show I don't love the others I haven't chosen, or at least don't love them in the way that really matters and leads to life. Would you call the behavior I exhibit toward the two unchosen cats love? Walls further points to problems logically consistent Calvinism brings to evangelism, assurance of salvation, and the character of God. He quotes John Wesley, who says that Calvinism makes God out to be worse than the devil, since God deceitfully offers salvation from sin to all, but doesn't really mean it since he doesn't enable all to receive it; even more, it becomes impossible to tell the difference between a wicked attack from the devil and a sovereign act of God. Both would stem from God regardless of the official "actor" and would fully embody God's will. (See Wesley's sermon "Free Grace" for the quote in context and for his long, bracing critique).

Pretty much everyone was Arminian where I grew up in the rural Methodist and Baptist churches of Randolph County, AL. I become Reformed for a few months in college when I first met people who were Calvinists and pointed me to Scriptures I never wrestled with before. But as I kept reading the Bible, I kept having questions about this conception of God. If everything happens according to God's plan, why does God still blame people for sin? If you set your children up to fail and then punish them for failing, how is that just or good? Why are there so many warnings in Scripture about consequences for disobedience and injunctions toward good behavior if we have no grace-enabled power of choice? If God desires all people to be saved (John 3:16; 1 Tim. 2:4; 2 Peter 3:8-9), and everything totally depends on the sovereign will of God, then why doesn't God save everyone? How is a world where some are eternally damned apart from anything they can do to change their outcome better than one in which God saves everyone? Because it gives God more glory to destroy those people and makes those whom he chose to save more grateful? But I thought God doesn't take any pleasure at the death of anyone, but wants them to turn and live (Ezekiel 18:32), and that there is more rejoicing in heaven over the repentance of one sinner than over the ninety-nine who need no repentance (Luke 15:7). I thought the cross of Christ for the salvation of sinners reveals the glory and will of God, not some conception of individuals predestined to damnation apart from any choice of their own. 

The main struggle I have with Calvinism is that it describes a God with a conflicted will and conflicting desires. God desires the world to be saved, but he also desires to be glorified in damning others, and for no reason other than God's own internal conflict, some human beings are eternally damned and some are saved apart from anything they can do. In Reformed theology, the only thing that stands in the way of God saving the world is God. In Arminian/Wesleyan theology, what stands in the way of God saving all people, and what explains the presence of evil in the world, are free, disobedient creatures. How can Reformed theologians call God good when there's no moral difference between God and angels and demons and human beings and the devil–they're all just different actors carrying out God's plan? How could we call good choosing to save some when you could save all? If there were three babies drowning in a creek and I had the ability to save all three, yet only saved one to showcase my power and glory, would you think I was amazing and stand in awe of the choices I made? Or would you think I was a sadistic serial killer? Is our human conception of goodness so far divorced from what the whole sweep of Scripture says and what the whole world can recognize as love and righteousness? Calvinists would have us think so. 

I find the Arminian conception of things much more convincing in making sense of the whole thrust of Scripture: God is love, God is good, God desires the whole world to be saved, and he is working to make that happen, if only we would yield to his Spirit and follow Jesus Christ. Election is corporate, not individual. Predestination is either functional (toward holiness or toward Christ being the way of salvation) or it is according to foreknown choices. You can read the book to learn more about what that means or endlessly nerd out on the exegetical arguments at http://evangelicalarminians.org. Correct me if I've erred, and I welcome those who disagree with me to point out where I've fallen short in my description. These are some of my concerns, and it's why I have found a home in the Wesleyan tradition rather than in the Reformed/Calvinist tradition, and it's why I really liked this book. God is good and God is love. What do you think?

Honorable Mentions that Didn't Make the Top 5

 Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther by Roland Bainton, Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates, Adventures in Evangelical Civility: A Lifelong Quest for Common Ground by Richard Mouw, Four Views on Hell edited by Preston Sprinkle (Burk and Stackhouse's essays were the best), Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, and Adam and the Genome by Scot McKnight and Dennis Venema.

Embracing Power and Weakness (Repost from Oct. 2, 2017)


Today I've been reflecting on the realities of power and weakness.

The past few weeks have been awful concerning tragedy. Hundreds are shot in Las Vegas and we are grieved. Earthquakes have caused much damage and loss of life in Mexico. Hurricanes have ravaged Houston, Florida, and especially Puerto Rico. In the face of tragedy, it is inspiring to see first responders use their power to mobilize, sort through the damage, and save lives. Facebook and other organizations have created opportunities to donate toward the relief effort. Our church has put together several cleanup buckets to go to a disaster relief warehouse to do our part to help. Still, in Puerto Rico, thousands are without electricity and running water, and try as we might, we can't bring back the dead.

We Americans are quite accustomed to having power. We talk about what people should do. We organize, argue, demonstrate, vote, and spend money for our causes. Yet things that seem so right to me may not seem right to you. Politically, I'm a Christ follower who has issues with both the Republican and Democratic party platforms. The total package of my values seems just about absent in our current political discourse. Who do I vote for? Who represents my values? For all my thoughts and blogging and conversations and voting, my voice is fairly marginal. I live in the tension between power and weakness.

We all have power. We all have weaknesses. How do we handle both?

Paul was someone who learned how to embrace both power and weakness in his walk with Jesus. Paul knew the power of the Holy Spirit, yet he did not turn that power inward for selfish purposes, but rather used that power to serve God's purpose. God used Paul to heal people, cast out demons, convert people to faith in Jesus Christ, shape lives, inspire hope, and plant churches throughout the Roman empire. Yet Paul also knew heartbreaking moments of powerlessness. He was beaten, arrested, conspired against, abandoned by friends, shepherded erring churches, battled against despair, and had personal struggles he asked God to remove. In Paul's correspondence with the Corinthian church, he has piercing meditations on the power of the cross (1 Cor 1:18-31) and Christ's strength in our weaknesses (2 Cor. 12:1-10), something that only could have been written by a person profoundly acquainted with powerlessness. For Paul, he had learned that when he was weak, it was not a time to give up hope or throw it all away. The crucified Jesus shows that there is a hidden strength at work even when it seems evil and suffering have the day. The crucified Christ displays the power of suffering love that can transform lives. Paul knew power. Paul knew weakness. And he could see God at work in both.

We need a Spirit-filled use of power and a Christlike embrace of loving powerlessness.
I find myself in this tension often. Sometimes I need to be reminded that even when I'm weak, Christ is strong through me, so stop trying to force it, carry the world on my shoulders, or pretend I'm invincible. Other times I need to be reminded that God and society have given me power, so stop acting like I don't have it and get out there and do what I can for God's good purpose.
We have power. Problems get solved. We overcome difficult odds. We beat the other team. Our candidate gets elected. Our influence changes someone's life. We rebuild after tragedy. We help those who are down and out. God shows up in an undeniable way.

We have weakness. There are many people whose mind we will not change. We can't enact our total vision for our church, community, state, country, and world. We struggle with personal faults we wish we didn't have. We can't fix everything and everyone. We have bouts with doubt.

The challenge is walking well with both power and weakness. You can use power for good or it can be your downfall. You can let weakness cripple you or you can embrace it as a means of God shaping you into Christlikeness. God uses both power and weakness to mold us into who he calls us to be.
Reinhold Niebuhr's Serenity Prayer, popularized in AA and other twelve step programs, takes these realities and lifts them toward God in prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

Wisdom from the Global Leadership Summit (Repost from Aug. 16, 2017)

I had the privilege of attending a simulcast of Willow Creek Community Church’s 2017 Global Leadership Summit at Asbury UMC in Madison. This is a gathering of high level leaders from various spheres–church, business, education, justice, etc. There are several tidbits that stood out to me as I think back to the speakers and what they had to say about leadership. I share some of the notes I took with you here as things all of us could chew on.

Bill Hybels
  • Employees perform 50% worse if they feel like they’re disrespected by a boss or another employee, and 25% of them take it out on their customers.
  • Ways to cultivate civility in a disrespectful culture and world:
    • 1. Differ without demonizing
    • 2. Have spirited conversation without drawing blood
    • 3. Listen without interrupting
    • 4. Limit your volume level and don’t use incendiary words
    • 5. Be courteous to everyone
    • 6. Apologize
    • 7. Form opinions carefully and stay open to changing your mind
    • 8. Show up
    • 9. Set rules of respect in your organization.
Sheryl Sandberg
  • “You can’t become what you can’t see.”–spoken in reference to how we socialize girls vs. how we socialize boys.
  • Most everyone talks about post-traumatic stress, but you don’t always hear about post traumatic growth. You grow after going through a traumatic experience!
Bryan Stevenson
  • Get proximate to those you want to serve. Leadership means that people must believe you are with them.
  • Change narratives–don’t let harmful narratives define people’s lives
  • Stay hopeful–hopelessness is the enemy of justice. Hope gets us to stand up when other people say sit down.
  • Choose to do something uncomfortable
Andy Stanley
  • It is almost impossible that you will be the one to discover what is uniquely better and changes the paradigm of your field. But you can be in a position to recognize the game change and adapt when it happens.
  • Be a student, not a critic.
  • Listen to outsiders and people not in your field.
  • Closed-minded leaders close minds. If you lead with closed eyes and a closed mind, you will hurt those under you, even your children.
Juliet Funt
  • When talented people don’t have time to think, business suffers.
  • Never rush the cooking of a great idea.
  • Great leaders have white space (time to think).
  • Become aware of the thieves of your time: 1. Drive, 2. Excellence, 3. Information, 4. Activity
Sam Adeyemi
  • In leadership, you don’t attract who you want, you attract who you are.
  • Real and sustainable change in people’s lives begins with a change in their sense of identity.
  • Sometimes what you’re used to is not where you belong. Your beliefs partly set where you can go in life.
  • Being poor, being a slave, and/or being a colonized person can create a sense of inferiority. This is often accompanied by low self esteem and limiting beliefs about your possibilities.
  • What people see and hear consistently will enter their hearts and will put their lives on autopilot.
  • Vision is the way to see things not as they are, but as they could be. Describe your vision over and over. Call out positive vision for a person’s life.
  • Model transformation. People follow a standard they can see. You “die” at one level to evolve to another. Don’t be afraid to give up part of yourself.
Angela Duckworth
  • Grit is sustained passion and perseverance toward long-term goals.
  • Millennials don’t have a lot of grit.
  • With age, experience, and deliberate practice, we grow in grit.
Gary Haugen
  • The finest leadership training in the world can be rendered useless by fear.
  • Fear replaces a dream of what is possible with a preoccupation with self.
  • We aren’t likely to know what we fear most.
  • Relentlessly inventory your own fears
  • We often get driven by our unexamined fears rather than our dreams and goals.
  • Don’t focus on what could go wrong, but on what could go right.
  • Form a community of courage around you.
  • Our survival and resistance to fear depends on how well we love each other.
  • Courage, like fear, is contagious.

Evolving–Original Sin and Death (Repost from Jun. 26, 2017)


This is the final installation on faith and science, as I've introduced the conversation and looked at what evolutionary science has found in the first post, and the second post looked at interpreting Genesis 1-11. I've been looking at some of the main arguments from the book Adam and the Genome by Dennis Venema (PhD in Genetics) and Scot McKnight (PhD in New Testament). Now, I want us to look at original sin, Romans 5, death, and some concluding thoughts.

Original Sin and Romans 5

If Adam and Eve weren’t historical people or weren’t the first human beings, then how then are we to understand the doctrine of original sin, which traditionally has said that human beings inherit a sinful nature that has been passed through the generations because of the disobedience of Adam and Eve as our first parents? McKnight reserves the final chapter of the book for addressing original sin and unpacking Romans 5:12-21, which is the passage St. Augustine used to formulate the doctrine. I include the English Standard Version of this text in full here:

Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned–for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted where there is no law. Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come. But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if many died through one man’s trespass, much more have the grace of God and the free gift by the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for many. And the free gift is not like the result of that one mans’ sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.

McKnight argues that the doctrine of original sin was formed by Augustine, one of the doctors of the church, based on a mistranslation that Jerome made of 5:12. Jerome completed a translation of the Bible from the original Hebrew and Greek into Latin back in the early 400s, which became known as the Vulgate (a Latin word meaning "current" or "regularly used"). Jerome wasn’t always the best with his Greek. Jerome translated 5:12 as saying “in whom all sinned,” while the Greek says “because all sinned.” Notice in verse 12 that death spreads not because we are “in Adam,” but “because all sinned.” McKnight argues that what Paul is highlighting isn’t necessarily a hereditary sinfulness, but a participatory sinfulness. Just as Adam sinned in Genesis and death came into the world in the Genesis narrative, every single human being has followed the moral example of Adam and sinned, which is Paul’s main message in Romans 1-3.

If you assume we inherit sinfulness, then based on the text, with Jesus being set up as the antithesis to Adam, it seems logical to assume universalism as well, that all will inherit salvation. In verses 18-19, it says one act of disobedience led to condemnation for the many (which is a Jewish way of saying everyone), so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for the many. If we inherit Adam’s act apart from our will, then do we not also inherit Jesus’ act apart from our will? I think pretty much everyone agrees the Bible teaches not everyone will be saved, so it seems natural to interpret this as people not automatically inheriting condemnation because of the passing on of a sin nature. Rather, Adam is put forward as a representative of a disobedient humanity, because all of us sin. We are worthy of condemnation when we follow the example of Adam in Genesis and sin, and we receive grace, righteousness, and life from Jesus when we trust him in faith. These two are set up as examples of two different courses of life–Adam representing the life of disobedience to God (whom all of us follow in some way or another), while Jesus is the means of our salvation and the example of a holy life. Is Adam set up here as a historical person from whom we have inherited a sin nature? I find McKnight’s argument convincing that Paul is putting Adam forward here as an example of moral failure, the archetype and representative of all of us in our sinfulness, and that when we choose to sin, we follow Adam. In short, Paul is not teaching hereditary sinfulness predicated on a historical Adam, but a participatory sinfulness following the example of Adam in Gensis. You can see a briefer version of McKnight’s argument here, but the book is much fuller in detail, and I’m afraid what I’ve written doesn’t fully do McKnight justice. McKnight goes to great lengths to show that Adam was not understood in only one way throughout the history of interpretation. Read the book to get the full scope of his argument!

Death

Unless I didn’t see it, one of the big topics McKnight doesn’t address is death. I think that is a miss in the book. A pervasive biblical teaching is that sin leads to death. If we view Genesis 1-11 as mostly mythological in nature, then it’s tempting to interpret death only as a metaphor. However, I think we must say that the Bible gives a physical/biological dimension to sin and death as well.

Yes, it’s appropriate to give a wider meaning to death than just your heart ceasing to beat and breath no longer filling your lungs: Sin can bring about the death of innocence, the death of trust, the death of relationships. Sin can lead to the death of full personhood and dehumanization. Sin can even lead people to take life. Part of the work of Jesus is that he took the worst people and spirits controlled by sin and the power of death could throw at him. They worked to kill his reputation. They worked to kill his relationships with others–he was betrayed by one of his friends and his disciples fled. They worked to kill his sense of self by shaming, stripping, and mocking him. They worked to kill and disrupt his relationship with God, calling him a heretic, a sinner, and demonic. They worked to kill his comfort and quality of life, beating him and crucifying him. And finally, they physically killed him. The long biblical narrative is that sin brings death in the quality of our lives, our relationships, and our physical bodies. Jesus’ bodily death and bodily resurrection prevents us from interpreting death as only metaphorical or relational. To me, biological death seems inextricably tied up with the biblical picture of what sin and death is. Some aspect of physical death is implied as a consequence of sin and is something Jesus has overcome.

If creatures have been dying long before human beings ever showed up on the scene, then how are we to understand death theologically and biblically? Does the badness of death depend upon a historical Adam and Eve? Is death a natural thing God wove into our existence that he doesn’t prefer, a limitation to being human that God can lead us to overcome? Should we look at a primordial, Satanic fall as the true incursion of the badness of death in the world as some have interpreted Revelation 12:7-12? Is there a moment along the evolutionary timeline where human beings became morally responsible to God and a different significance was given to death? As you can see, I have questions concerning death in particular, and it seems there’s still room for biblical and theological development. If you’re aware of some good reflections on death from a theistic evolutionary perspective, by all means let me know. 

Conclusion

You can read the Bible in a way that makes the science and faith irreconcilable, or you can read it in a way that synchronizes them. Science isn't infallible, but when it's true to its method and has been confirmed repeatedly, we would be wise to heed it. After all, if you still prefer a young earth creation view,  you at least need to acknowledge that you pick and choose how you want science to interface with your worldview. You appreciate the advances in medicine, technology, convenience, conservation, etc. that result from the application of the same method that arrives at the theory of evolution, and yet reject that method when it challenges a particular interpretation you have of Scripture. Can you come up with a  convincing explanation for why you should have it both ways? 
When it comes to origins, I think science is helping us read our Bibles better, leading us to ponder more deeply just how God is at work in our world. As I've said throughout these blogs, I think there are good reasons for Christianity and science to be friends. You may or may not agree with me, and I acknowledge I could be wrong on several counts. But I hope we all will seek truth together and not settle for cheap answers. The faith and science conversation definitely isn’t settled, but I’m excited to see how it progresses as we grow in understanding of God and our world.

Evolving–Interpreting Genesis 1-11 (Repost from Jun. 22, 2017)


This is a continuation of my previous post concerning science and faith in light of reading the book Adam and the Genome by Dennis Venema and Scot McKnight. This has been a stimulating book by two scholars in their respective fields of Genetics and New Testament, and they both take an in-depth look at evolution and the Bible, working to see what sort of synthesis might come from the two. Both Venema and McKnight are connected with Biologos, an organization which promotes biblical Christianity and evolutionary creation. In this blog, I want to focus on some aspects of biblical interpretation that often come up in this conversation. What better place to begin than Genesis?

Genesis

Genesis 1-3 are some of the most important chapters of the Bible. By anyone’s estimation, if you were given the exercise of compiling the 50 most important chapters of Scripture, I’m sure these chapters would make just about everyone’s list. They tell us much about God and how he creates, human beings, gender and marriage, the created world, what’s wrong with the world, and God’s response to sin. The question is, how are we to interpret these passages, especially in light of the findings of science?

For any close reading of the Bible, we need to work to understand the genre of a particular text and the background out of which that text arose in order to best interpret it. First, genre. Let’s look at Psalm 22:12-13, which says “Many bulls encompass me; strong bulls of Bashan surround me; they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion.” Knowing that the genre of the Psalms is poetry makes me think that the psalmist isn’t giving a literal, historical account about an unfortunate instance where he was surrounded by bulls that gnashed their teeth at him, although I’m sure that’d be a great story to share at the town watering hole. Rather, he is using metaphor to tap into our emotions and carry us along with him, conveying a sense of fear, danger, and overwhelming odds against him. Genre makes a difference in whether I read this as a historical narrative or a poetic expression. A good question we should ask of any text of Scripture is what genre it is. Knowing the genre helps us know how best to interpret.

Second, background. A good example of background informing our understanding of a text would be women’s head coverings in 1 Corinthians 11, a passage that strikes many readers today as odd. In Craig Keener’s The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, he writes “Women’s hair was a common object of lust in antiquity, and in much of the eastern Mediterranean women were expected to cover their hair. To fail to cover their hair was thought to provoke male lust as a bathing suit is thought to provoke it in some cultures today” (p. 475). There also were tensions between women of different socio-economic statuses in regard to head coverings and hair styles. Knowing the background might help us understand a bit better what Paul was dealing with and the reasoning behind his arguments. It also can help us ask the interpretive question of whether women wearing head coverings is a transcultural command for all times and places or something Paul was dealing with in his context from which we can pull helpful principles to apply in conversations about propriety today, though we wouldn’t implement it in exactly the same way.

With genre and background in mind, let’s look at Genesis. 

The ancient Israelite concept of the cosmos was that there was a dome above the sky and pillars that were holding up the earth below. The earth is kind of like a flat disc, surrounded by water with some stuff above it. Whenever it rained, they thought God opened the floodgates (see Genesis 7:11; 2 Kings 7:2; Isaiah 24:18) and then shut them. Sheol was the holding place of the dead, not quite as developed in theology as what we think of as paradise or hell. The earth is held up by “pillars” or “foundations” (Psalm 18:7; 82:5). A good picture of how they viewed the world is in this image from Bible scholar John Walton:  


With this background in mind, it behooves us to ask: Would God deliver a 21st century science lesson about a big bang, the evolution of life over billions of years, bacteria and cellular development, common descent, a round earth, etc. to people who didn’t have the foggiest idea about electricity, atoms, germs, or the sun being the center of our solar system? It’d be gibberish to them.

As to genre, Genesis 1-11 seems to be in the same mold with other Ancient Near Eastern creation narratives that were around at the time. In chapter 6 of Adam and the Genome, McKnight shows that Genesis has similarities with other early works like The Epic of Gilgamesh, Atrahasis, and Enuma Elish, but it is different from them in some crucial aspects. This goes to show that God speaks to his people in ways they can understand, accommodating us in order to communicate critical truths to us, but also standing against some popular ideas in the air. So Genesis may not be a modern scientific account, but based on the worldview people had at the time, Genesis 1-3 articulates some of the most important things we can know about God, humanity, and the rest of the world. Let a brief summary of some key points suffice here:

God–God alone is the one supreme God and he is creator of all that exists. God creates by speaking and creates out of peace, not out of violence, unlike the other creation narratives. God wants to be in relationship with human beings and cares for his creation, unlike the gods of other creation narratives. God creates human beings with a purpose and is patient with a disobedient humanity, disciplining them for their mistakes but also tenderly caring for them.

People–People are God’s special creation, and both males and females made in his “image.” In the context of the time, idols were images that represented the presence of the divine, and kings would put up images of themselves throughout their empires to remind people of their rule. For human beings to be in the “image of God” probably means they are representations of God’s divine nature in some way and are meant “to rule over creation and to represent God to creation” (Venema & McKnight, 129). Humans are called to work the created world for it to develop and blossom; they bring out some of the latent potential within creation and are co-creators with God in this way. People are gendered, husband and wife are designed for a “one-flesh” union, are created with the potential for procreation, and are called to mutuality with each other (Ibid., 133). Humans are endowed with a measure of freedom and have the capacity to choose something other than God’s desires–we can step outside of our God-given boundaries, which is known as sin. Choosing contrary to God’s will ends up leading to shame, fear, blame, the damaging of relationships, and loving discipline from God in order to limit the spread of the consequences of sin.

Creation–The created world, plants, and animals are good. Human beings are supposed to rule over them like God does, with loving care, and to develop them. Human disobedience has led to damage and frustration in the rest of creation.

Do all of these points require a literal, historical interpretation of Genesis? I don’t think so. I prefer an allegorical interpretation of Genesis 1-3, that it is not a historical, factual, scientific account, but something that is still profoundly true. It is true in the same way that the psalmist saying he’s surrounded by bulls of Bashan in Psalm 22 isn’t a statement of historical fact, but a poetic way of engaging us with a feeling of being surrounded, in danger, and weak. It’s true in the same way that Jesus’ parables aren’t accounts of events that really happened, but are made-up stories that illustrate very important truths about God, human beings, and the created world. 

McKnight goes on to point out that one way of understanding Adam and Eve is that they are archetypes, or representatives, of all of humanity. Each of us was created for a purpose of spreading God’s reign in the world. All of us sin and go beyond our God-given boundaries. All of us need redemption from God in Jesus Christ. He further points out that Adam and Eve are also archetypes of the story of Israel. Let Israel be A.) and Adam and Eve be B.) in the following sentences. A.) The nation of Israel was specially chosen and created by God and given a purpose in Abraham to multiply and be a blessing to all peoples on earth. B.) Adam and Eve were specially created to be God’s image bearers and spread God’s reign. A.) Israel failed at their calling and broke their covenant with God. B.) Adam and Eve broke their covenant with God by eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. A.) Israel enters into exile by the Assyrians and Babylonians as a result of their disobedience B.) Adam and Eve enter into exile and are expelled from the Garden of Eden due to their disobedience. Finally, all humanity as well as the nation of Israel stand in need of redemption to fulfill their original calling. This paves the way for Jesus Christ to fulfill what it means to be truly human and live into the image of God, as well as to fulfill God’s covenant calling for Israel. Jesus Christ is the perfect human being and the perfect Israelite, and he makes a way for all humanity to be restored back into God’s original purpose and to fulfill God’s covenant with Israel through the New Israel, the church.

I know treating parts of the Bible as myth or allegory can be very dangerous and can even lead to denying the substance of the Christian faith if we’re not careful. An essential aspect of Christianity is that God has been active in history, that he did and still does stuff in the real world. It isn’t all psychologizing, or that we should live as though Christianity is true, even though we know it really isn’t. If Jesus’ death and resurrection is just a myth and didn’t happen in real time and space, then Paul says we are to be pitied more than all people, we are still in our sins, and our faith is useless (1 Cor. 15:12-19). God is the God of history and a God who acts in history. I’ve even experienced that up close and personal in my own life and have heard it time and again in other people’s stories–God is alive and active and working in our world. Still, I think we have good reasons to treat Genesis 1-11 as being mythological (in the best sense of that word)–the findings of evolutionary science are showing us that Genesis 1-11 is not history. There are some biblical scholars who start interpreting Genesis as a historical account once chapter 12 starts and we get to Abram. For a take on Noah and the flood narrative, see this article. I fully acknowledge I could be wrong, and I welcome feedback and further instruction if you think otherwise. But I’d rather be wrong in a genuine pursuit of truth than being too afraid to explore real questions.

Further, if we want to interpret Genesis 1-3 as a strictly historical, scientific account for how everything came to be, we bump into problems. In Genesis 1-3, we have two creation narratives set side by side; Genesis 1:1-2:3 is the first narrative, and the second narrative starts at 2:4. In Genesis 1, God creates the trees (1:11-13), then later sea creatures and birds (1:20-23), then the animals (1:24-25), and lastly he creates humans (1:26-31). In our second creation narrative in Genesis 2:4, however, God creates the man first (2:7), then he creates the trees (2:8-9), and then in 2:19 he creates the animals and brings them before the man to name them. The Hebrew word yatsar in 2:19 is past tense (formed), not pluperfect (had formed) like some translations make it in an attempt to smooth over the differences between the accounts (Ibid., 102). If God meant for us to read Genesis 1-3 literally, then couldn’t God at least get the chronological order right between the two narratives? Further, where on earth did Cain’s and Seth’s wives (4:17, 26) come from if Adam and Eve are the only humans? Add to that the findings of science telling us that all forms of life in the universe did not come into existence in 6 days and that biological death was not suddenly introduced when human beings came around and made an unfortunate choice. If the universe was made in six days and humans are only a few thousand years old, wouldn’t you expect that honest inquiry into our world would confirm, not contradict, such assertions if that’s how it really happened? Or are the overwhelming majority of scientists deceived? Perhaps trying to make this text a science lesson or a history lesson is missing the point. I don't think we have to interpret Genesis 1-11 historically, and I don't think we have to make science and Christian faith fight each other on this one.

So, were Adam and Eve real people? I’m open to that possibility, but if they were, it seems likely they weren’t the first human beings, since multiple independent lines of research are telling us we descended from a pool of 10,000 hominins. McKnight argues that the allegorical, moral Adam and Eve get treated as a historical Adam and Eve in the Bible whenever you see genealogies in Scripture (like Genesis 5; 1 Chronicles 1; Luke 3:23-38). It seems likely that other biblical authors did view them as historical people, yet once we reach a certain point in the genealogy, we should perhaps view it as dipping back into the clouds of myth or allegory. If I’m reading him correctly, this seems to be what McKnight is advocating. This could be a way of harmonizing Genesis 1-11 and the findings of evolutionary science, and doing so in a way that seeks to take the Bible seriously.

What do you think?

Next up, interpreting Romans 5:12-21 and some final questions concerning death...

Evolving–Reconciling Evolution and Christian Theology (Repost from May 31, 2017)


“The number one reason young Christians leave the faith [and that non-Christians find Christianity intellectually incoherent] is the conflict between science and faith, and that conflict can be narrowed to the conflict between evolutionary theory and human origins as traditionally read in Genesis 1-2” (Venema & McKnight, pp.104-105).

I just finished reading an engaging book released this year, a collaboration between two first-rate Christian scholars entitled Adam and the Genome: Reading Scripture after Genetic Science. Dennis Venema, who has a PhD in Genetics and teaches at Trinity Western University in Canada, along with Scot McKnight, who has a PhD in New Testament and teaches at Northern Seminary in Chicago, do a bang-up job bringing evolutionary theory and Christian theology into a constructive synthesis. Both of these men have ties to BioLogos, an organization composed of Christians who are evangelical in theology (shorthand for they affirm biblical authority and orthodox Christianity) and believe in theistic evolution, or that God created the world through the mechanism of evolution. I’ve found BioLogos to be the best resource at fostering informed dialogue between the scientific and Christian communities, and it was at a BioLogos gathering in New York when Dennis and Scot first met each other, which has now led to this book. 

Christianity and science have had their ups and downs throughout history. We can point to several positive examples between them. Gregor Mendel, the father of modern genetics, was a monk. Isaac Newton, a prominent scientist who discovered the theory of gravity, wrote that creation points to God. Frances Collins led the team that sequenced the human genome in the early 2000s and is an evangelical Christian. On the other hand, we’ve all heard the story of Galileo. His research supported Copernicus’ theory that our solar system is heliocentric—the earth and other planets revolve around the sun. After he (perhaps intentionally) slighted the pope in one of his works, Galileo was put on trial, told to curse his findings, and placed under house arrest for the rest of his life for contradicting the “clear” teaching of the Bible—that the earth is the center of the universe. 

Heliocentrism remained controversial for quite some time. Venema tells the story of John Edwards (not the famed American revivalist Jonathan Edwards of the First Great Awakening) who wrote an apologetic work in 1696 against heliocentrism, saying it clearly violates Scripture, which teaches the earth is the center of the universe. For, after all, Psalm 104:5 says “the Lord set the earth on its foundations; it can never be moved,” or Ecclesiastes 1:5 “And the sun rises and sets and returns to its place.” And how else could God make the shadow go backwards for Hezekiah in 2 Kings 20:1-11, or stop the sun in the sky for Joshua in Joshua 10:1-15? Edwards also said heliocentrism is contrary to reason. I like one of his arguments Venema quotes:

Nay, truly, if the earth were hurl’d about in a Circle (as these Persons assert) we should feel it to our sorrow, for we should not be able to keep our ground, but must necessarily be thrown off, and all Houses and other Buildings would be thrown down, being forcibly shared off from the Circumference of the Earth, as things that are laid on a Wheel are flung off by it when it turns round (Ibid., p. 10).

Knowing what we know today, it may be a bit humorous to read an argument for being slung off the earth like a ball from a fast-pitch machine if the earth is really rotating and orbiting as fast as those heliocentrists say it is. Copernicus’ ideas had been around for about 150 years by the time Edwards wrote, however, some of the science was still coming in to confirm heliocentrism, and the vast majority of Christians (and probably people in the West in general) had been geocentrists for a long time. Today, that has been totally reversed, and you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who claims to believe the earth is the center of the universe. And what of John Edwards’ claims that the sun being the center of our solar system is contrary to Scripture and reason? The fact is, hardly anyone sees it that way now. Bit by bit, as more and more research confirmed heliocentrism, people started to wonder if they’d been interpreting those Scriptures improperly. Now that we’ve put people into space and on the moon, it’s against all reason to think otherwise concerning the sun being the center of our solar system. While initially some were against it because of Scriptural and rational questions, the church shifted.

In a similar manner, ever since Darwin published his On the Origin of Species, we have been in the midst of another conversation concerning origins, and a similar slow and steady shift has been happening.

Exploring this topic inescapably leads us to the Bible and how we are to interpret it. Most Christians believe the Bible is inspired by God to teach us and help us live a holy life (2 Tim. 3:16-17), and Protestants especially hold that if a doctrine cannot be proved by Scripture, it should not be required as necessary to salvation. To believe or do something contrary to Scripture, properly interpreted, would be sinful.

Genesis 1-11 tells the story of a God creating all that exists in six days, an original human pair (Eve and Adam) who sinned in the garden of Eden, their exile from the garden, a murder of a brother, a flood, the building of a tower, the confusion of languages, and several genealogies. Elsewhere, the Bible depicts much of humanity being descended from Adam and Eve, including big names like Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, and Jesus (Luke 3:23-38). Paul teaches in Romans 5:12-21 that in Adam, sin was introduced into the world and because of that, death came to all people (see also 1 Corinthians 15:21-22).

When it comes to the sciences, physicists are telling us that the universe didn’t originate a few thousand years ago from a six day creation, but from a big bang 13.8 billion years ago. Our universe took shape over billions of years (the earth is estimated to be about 4.5 billion years old), and evolutionary science is indicating that life on earth evolved slowly but surely over several billion years, with modern humans arriving on the scene about 250,000 years ago. It also shows that humans didn’t come from one original pair, but from a pool of about 10,000 hominins during a bottleneck about 150,000 years ago (Ibid., 44; Venema shows there are several independent lines of evidence pointing to this conclusion in chapter 3). 

Evolution is a theory in the science world. As Venema writes, when we use the word “theory” in common speech, we often mean something like a guess, but in science, theories are developed over a long period of time, are verified by many different experiments, and are useful for explaining “why the facts are the way they are” (Ibid., 3). The big bang and evolution aren’t just vague guesses, but have been verified time and time again by a whole host of different experiments. In short, they’re as well established as gravity, as the sun being the center of our solar system, as germs and cells and the laws of planetary motion.

Perhaps you can see the mutually exclusive claims. Which is it? Six days or billions of years? Were there two original humans or a pool of 10,000? Has stuff been dying for billions of years, or did death only come after Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil?  Were Eve and Adam real people? If not, what do we do with other biblical authors treating them like they were, including them in genealogies (Luke 3:23-38) and Paul using Adam as an example of how sin spread to all humanity (Romans 5:12-21)? If Adam and Eve aren’t a historical couple and many Christian traditions hold to a doctrine of original sin (the sinful nature of that original couple has been passed down to every human being in existence), what are we to do with that belief? Moreover, what does it do to our understanding of salvation in Jesus Christ, who by his work is supposed to set us free from death and sin if life has been dying long before humans ever came on the scene?

These apparent inconsistencies have led many to choose either evolutionary science or an anti-science version of Christianity. Person A will take science, its methodologies, its explanatory power, and its progress and leave behind a Christianity she or he considers intellectually vacuous and superstitious. Perhaps another worldview, like atheism or Buddhism, wouldn’t have such a dissonance between the claims of science and claims of religion. Person B, on the other hand, will take God, the Bible, the morality it teaches, and the spirituality of a Christian faith walk, and reject science—at least evolutionary science and certain aspects of cosmology—holding to a literal six day creation. This has often been labeled the creationist perspective. Creationists see evolution and the Bible as inevitably conflicting, and would argue that to unite the two into a synthesis is like trying to make oil and vinegar mix—you can shake things up a lot, but in the end, they just don’t go together.
Some have gone so far as to champion creationist science, a banner carried by people like Ken Ham and the organization Answers in Genesis (there are others as well). Creationist scientists deny evolution and any other scientific data that goes against their literal interpretation of the Genesis creation narratives, and they work to prove that interpretation scientifically. These folks are hailed by many in the scientific community as practitioners of pseudo-science, often presenting technical answers and challenges to largely non-scientifically trained audiences (people like me) who don’t have the foggiest idea of all the data out there. It would be like someone wanting to have an in-depth discussion with me about software programming. I might recognize a few words here and there, but largely I’m going to have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m going to trust that you know more than I do on this one. But for those who do have more background in evolutionary science and are cognizant of the data, they recognize that something fishy and unfair is going on in many creationist critiques of evolution. Venema is quite helpful in this regard in the book, demonstrating that yes, evolution actually can explain fish turning into primates, and lays out the genetic arguments for why that’s the case.

Venema and McKnight give several examples in the book that make a lot of sense according to evolutionary theory, but just seem baffling from a six-day creationist perspective. I’ve included three here. First, when it comes to our sense of smell, humans have some pretty damaged genetic material, which can help explain why our sense of smell is shoddy in comparison to a dog or a cat. What’s interesting is that when you look at the sense of smell of other primates, they too have a lot of mistakes, sometimes down to the very same malfunctioning genes that are in humans, which suggests common ancestry. Orangutans, our furthest primate relative, share one malfunction in common with us, guerrillas share two malfunctions in common, and then our closest ancestor, chimpanzees, share three malfunctions in common with us (Ibid., 34). That sure does look like some of the malfunctions happened to our common ancestors. And if God created us only a few thousand years ago, why did he create us with all this damaged and seemingly useless genetic material? Second, as an example of an intermediate species, Venema points to Basilosaurus, an ancient whale that had small hind limbs that were unable to support its weight, and says there are several other examples (Ibid., 16). Third, McKnight tells the story of someone who noticed the “latent but inactive remains of the Vitamin-C producing gene” shared among humans and primates and wondered: If God created all there is a few thousand years ago, why did he put stuff like this all over the place that seems to point to evolution? (Ibid., 172). There are more examples in the book, and it makes for good reading.

Why have I been rambling on about this topic? Well, my own view is one of theistic evolution, that God created all that exists and developed the world through evolutionary processes. I believe it’s possible to reconcile evolution and the Bible while not downplaying biblical authority. Not everyone will agree with me, and that’s fine. We don’t have to view things the same way to be sisters and brothers in Christ, or at the very least to be friends. And I fully admit that I could be wrong—I don’t know everything there is to know. But it’s for reasons that become apparent when interpreting the Bible itself, when looking at the weight of evidence for evolutionary theory, and especially in consideration of those who feel they must choose either Christianity or science, that I see theistic evolution as a compelling position. Science and Christianity don’t have to conflict. In fact, I think they can help each other and need each other. Science is a wonderful vocation for Christians, and no, you don’t have to check your brain at the door to be a Christian.

In my next post, I want to continue the argument Venema and McKnight lay out in their wonderful book (you should read it—they are much more informed and winsome writers than myself) and look at what the Bible says and how to interpret it as we wrestle with these questions. Stay tuned.