How Evolutionary Creationism Will Require Rethinking Scriptural Doctrine

 

In the accompanying article below I wish to make a few comments where necessary. This is not to say that Daniel Harrell and I differ so much as to qualify a few statements within the article that RJS has written in her observations with coming to grips with Evolutionary Creationism. I will keep my comments short, however, for further reference please refer to the various sidebars on creation, sin, God, evolution, etc. Thank you.

 

R.E. Slater

April 12, 2013

 

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The Tortuous and Tortured Path of Evolution

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2013/04/11/the-tortuous-and-torturous-path-of-evolution-rjs/

 

RJS

Apr 11, 2013

 

The next few chapters of Daniel Harrell’s book, Nature’s Witness: How Evolution Can Inspire Faith, looks at the theological questions raised by the possibility of evolutionary creation.

 

Providence. He considers the question of providence and introduces some categories. There is ordinary providence (the everyday workings of the “natural” world), extraordinary providence (as when God employs the wind or the locusts), and supernatural providence (resurrection being a prime example). The latter is an out-breaking of God’s future in the present. None of these are outside of the nature of God – he is equally active and equally consistent with his nature in the natural, the extraordinary, and the supernatural.

 

Thinking Too Much. Evolutionary creation sees God’s action and providence in the “natural” process of evolutionary change. But, unless you don’t think to much (and Harrell admits that he thinks too much), it is not enough to simply say regarding creation that science tells us how and the Bible tells us who and why. This may be true, in fact, I am convinced that it is true, — but it is not enough. Harrell puts it like this:

The scientific evidence is too strong in evolution’s favor to reasonably deny its occurrence. You can refuse to believe it, but that still won’t make it untrue, any more that denying God exists proves that he doesn’t exist. The overwhelming evidence in favor of evolution has led plenty of Christians to suggest that the Bible tells the who and why of creation (the primal or final cause), leaving evolution to describe the how (the secondary or efficient cause). And that works as long as you don’t think about it too much. This is my problem. I think too much. Theology teaches me that the character of creation reflects the character of the Creator – God’s beauty and order and goodness and purposefulness. But as soon as you start thinking about what an evolving creation truly reveals – namely, cruelty and disorder and indifference and randomness – you can’t help but wonder about that faith and about the God to whom that faith points. (p. 46)

Evolution is both tortuous and torturous … or so it has been described.

 

Comment 1. What Harrell points out is that many Christians think of evolution in antipathy to God's character. However, we often discover that God is unlike what we think of Him and no less the more with the subject matter of creation. Thus, the indeterminacy found in God's creational process of mediated evolution no less reflects God's purposefulness, or His other divine characteristics, than would the 7-Day creational model of immediate creation. (I chose to use the word "mediated" to refer to God's sovereign - and continual - involvement in evolutionary creation, as opposed to the classical definition of spontaneous creation by God).

In fact, God's divinity is expanded in our consciousness in ways that we could not imagine without the scientific model of evolution. So that, disorderliness, randomness, death, and destruction (think in terms of quantum physics as well as in biological and geological terms) are as much a part of God's creation as is it's orderly functioning based upon chaotic and seemingly random evolvement.

To add to this complexity, then couple these thoughts with reflections about how sin's entrance into God's creation corrupted the natural, evolutionary process of indeterminacy. As a result, the Christian thinker must expand his/her concepts of creation and of God Himself, especially as they impact classical doctrinal themes and biblical principles.

- res

 

Of course Harrell doesn’t leave us hanging here. In the next sections of Ch. 3 (What Happens When I Think Too Much) and in Ch. 4 (E-Harmony) he works through many of the issues involved in understanding an evolutionary creation. He wanders through a discussion of faith, randomness, purpose, heaven, love, and the image of God.

 

E-Harmony. Harrell discusses what he calls ‘E-Harmony’, the way faith and science integrate, in the context of a conversation with a friend, Dave, who is content (especially when peckish) to deny and ignore the possibility and the questions of evolutionary creation. But we need to face the facts – not ignore them or fiddle with them to match what we already believe. Here Harrell looks at interpretations and data and the power and limitations of reductionist thinking. An example he doesn’t use, but I as a chemist find useful. … One can explain in exquisite detail the properties of hydrogen and of oxygen atoms in isolation. The equations are really quite simple (if one doesn’t dig too deeply into the nucleus). But one can’t derive the properties of the water molecule simply from the isolated atoms, one must consider the influence of each on the others. Likewise one cannot derive the properties of liquid water from a single isolated molecule – one must consider how the molecules interact and the influence this interaction has on the properties of the individual molecules. The elementary equations remain simple (if unsolvable) but because of interactions the system is immensely complex. And it only gets worse. Harrell (he has a Ph.D. in developmental psychology after all … and as a pastor he works with people) looks at the complexities of nutrition and human society to explore both the power and limitations of reductionist thinking.

 

Interpretation. Harrell has a good introduction to the problem of interpretation. “A fruitful dialog between faith and evolution requires a particular kind of relationship between knowledge (“the way we know”) and reality (“the way things are”). (p. 62) Is objectivity a pipe dream with reality unknowable aside from one’s interpretation? … or is there a reality and objectivity (at least when averaging over a large enough group) possible?

Reality itself does not depend upon our ability to know it. While perceptual capacity and personal bias clearly are factors when it comes to making sense of reality, they are not determinants of the reality itself. God was there before anybody believed in him. Evolution occurred before Darwin boarded The Beagle and sailed to the Galapagos Islands. God is not a product of faith any more than evolution is a product of science. So to say that God and evolution are at odds is an interpretative statement, not one that the realities themselves dictate since both existed together before interpretation was possible. (p.63)

And a bit further down the page:

Reality exists independent of me. But knowledge of reality is never independent of me. We have to be honest with our own biases and proclivities. … My belief in God affects my view of nature. My beliefs about nature effect my belief in God because I believe God reveals himself in nature, and this makes evolution part of God’s revelation. Therefore to study evolution is to further understand God. And what I understand about God helps me to better understand evolution. Christian theology doesn’t have to submit to accurate scientific findings, only to account for them. Authentic faith strives to believe in what is rather in than in what we wish was. All truth is God’s truth, however you look at is and whether you like it or not.

 

God is infinite and independent reality. Even when we know everything we can know about him, there will still be infinitely more to know. That is what makes theology so interesting. Every time we think we have God figured out, some new experience or new realization comes along that unmasks our convictions as idols in need of breaking. (p. 63)

We want God to be simple and straightforward, our faith an acknowledgment of solving the equation – connecting the dots. But there is nothing in human experience, and nothing within Scripture, that indicates that this is reality.

 

Death. One of the things that evolution requires us to rethink (or at least many of us to rethink) is the role of death in God’s good creation. I’ll end this post with two brief video clips where Daniel Harrell reflects on the question of death. In this first clip he gives a perspective on death and evolution.

 

Comment 2. I like to ask the question of whether death existed before Adam and Eve's fateful decision in Genesis. To consider whether death itself was an integral part of God's quantum creation of the universe. To consider death as a premeditated, and purposeful, plan by God within His intentional evolutionary creation of the universe and all life that would spawn from its origin. For if it was, then it spins the concept of death as an effect / result of sin upon its head. More the rather, death is by the hand, heart, design, and purposeful plan of God.

Moreover, it affects the Christian view of the future as much as that of the past, for in the future the "New Heavens and New Earth" envisioned in Revelation is rid of corrupting sin and death but not of the creational design of death. So that perhaps a better question to ask is how there will be "newness" in the future kingdom of God given the evolutionary character of its creation which must coincide with the continuance of death. Otherwise atoms would no longer function; the cosmology no longer fit together; and biologic organisms no longer evolve. Does all die a final death and cease to exist on a global, cosmological scale? Or, does our concept of death require qualifying if we are to stay within the bounds of redemptive, biblical history? I would posit the latter - that our concept of "death" must change.

Consequently, the difference between the now-of-today, and the then-of-creation, is the infraction that sin's occurrence brought with it upon God's original holy creation. An occurrence that I would submit began immediately by God's very act of creation. A metaphysical intangible that God knew would immediately occur in His omniscience, and planned for in its resolvement through His redemption of creation through His own death and resurrection in the person of Jesus. I say an immediate metaphysical result because it derived in opposition to God's holy will. An antithesis that resulted to God's command, laying as it would in the "ether of God's creation" causing opposition. Not as an entity, nor as an opposing god, but as a construct in opposition to the construct of God's creation as a metaphysical latency. Which I find difficult to visualize even as I write of this concept.

Moreover, the bible pictures for us sin's existence by utilizing the literary nomenclature of "Adam and Eve's" story of disobedience to God, as a parochial explanation for sin's origin. To my mind, it is a simple way by God to help us understand sin in relation to Himself. If expressed in any other way - as I have attempted above - it is met with too many questions, both philosophic and spiritual. However, I believe I have reasonable ground to say that sin existed before Adam and Eve's disobedience on the observation that the angel Lucifer was the first to sin, not man. So the argument that sin existed before Adam and Eve is evident herein. And, I would submit, that it was pre-existent before Lucifer's choice to-be-like-God, thus causing him to sin. Consequently, my own determination that sin, as a metaphysical latency, must have come into being at the very onset to God's holy act of creation. Perhaps this idea has a classical background to it, but I am not a theological historian and am unaware of any past statements by ancient theologians who might have posited similar arguments.

So then, what does this mean? That death is good and natural, even though it is viewed as unholy and borne because of sin. That even God Himself partook of death to be resurrected unto new life separated from death's affects. I do not understand these things but simply mention them here to provide another way of looking at death and creation, resurrection, renewal, and eternal life itself. It is a mystery borne with the fact that in creation's evolutionary indeterminacy we find death as a necessary construct to creation's sustenance, maintenance, continuance, and evolvement. If death were not latent within creation than our quantum physical, biological, and geologic structures would not hold together in the shape, form, and function as they are now found today.

And as I write of these things let us not forget that this concept still holds dearly to the concepts of God's divine, mitigating, sovereignty and to the latent teleological framework of His overarching salvific designs, as found within His creation and future plans of redemption for earth and man to come.

 - res

Death and Evolution: A Pastor's Perspective -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=r7xkQ9nc4rU

 

"Death is part of the character of God. God's supreme

 expression of love is an act of death on our behalf..."

God does many things in ways we would not expect, and in ways we would not if we were God. After all, who really understands either crucifixion and resurrection? And yet this is, we believe, God’s method for transforming his creation and bringing the Kingdom of God, in an already/not yet paradox. For 2000 years Christians have still died.

 

And in this clip … Harrell elaborates a bit more on making sense of death.
 

 

Making Sense of Death: A Pastor's Perspective -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=RBSUY4jgPgQ

 

"There is an aspect of dying that is redemptive,

both spiritually and physically..."

 

If Adam had not sinned would he not still have died? In some sense at least the answer is yes. Even John Calvin (no liberal Bible denier he) thought that Adam would have moved from earthly existence to the world to come. The Garden was not the intended end for mankind.

 

These clips are short – no final answers, and not even Harrell’s complete thoughts on the questions. And yet they make good conversation starters to begin to think through the question.

 

What is the relationship between what we know and the way we know?

Is death a big problem for evolutionary creation?

 

Do Daniel Harrell’s thoughts on this make any headway? Where would you agree or disagree.

 

 

Ancient Cosmologies and the Creation Story of Genesis

John Walton, "Genesis Through Ancient Eyes"

http://www.apologeticalliance.com/blog/2012/10/28/4302/

by Thomas Larsen
Octorber 28, 2013

A common objec­tion to Chris­tian­ity is that there’s supposedly a fundamental conflict between the bib­li­cal and sci­en­tific sto­ries of the ori­gin and devel­op­ment of the uni­verse, the Earth, life, and so on and so forth.

John Wal­ton, ((John Wal­ton has a Ph.D. in Hebrew and Cog­nate Stud­ies from the Hebrew Union College–Jewish Insti­tute of Reli­gion, Cincin­nati, Ohio.)) in his talk on “Gen­e­sis Through Ancient Eyes,” responds to this objec­tion with the claim that the ori­gin sto­ries in Gen. 1–3 in the Bible are about func­tional rather than mate­r­ial ori­gins.

Here’s a sum­mary from BioLogos:

In this talk, orig­i­nally deliv­ered at the BioL­o­gos President’s Cir­cle meet­ing in Octo­ber 2012, Dr. John Wal­ton dis­cusses the ori­gin sto­ries of Gen­e­sis 1–3, and why their focus on func­tion and arche­types mean there is no Bib­li­cal nar­ra­tive of mate­r­ial origins.

This is very inter­est­ing. Wal­ton, for exam­ple, thinks that the days in Gen. 1 are lit­eral 24-hour days, but that they are about the inau­gu­ra­tion of the cos­mos as God’s tem­ple, not mate­r­ial ori­gins, so that this fact says noth­ing about the age of the uni­verse, or the Earth, or life.

Here are the four parts of the talk (roughly 51m.16s in total), with very rough sum­maries:

Part One 8m.26s	Scrip­ture is author­i­ta­tive, and we need to hon­our and under­stand the text Scrip­ture was writ­ten for us, but not to us: the orig­i­nal texts were not writ­ten in our lan­guage or our cul­ture, and trans­la­tion is required there are sig­nif­i­cant dif­fer­ences between ancient (Israelite, Egypt­ian, etc.) cos­mol­ogy and con­tem­po­rary sci­en­tific cosmology we need to see the Gen­e­sis texts in the same way as the ancient Israelites would have
Part Two 14m.42s	there is no sci­en­tific rev­e­la­tion in the Bible ancient Israelites under­stood exis­tence in func­tional rather than mate­r­ial terms and focused on func­tional rather than mate­r­ial origins for ancient Israelites, to name some­thing was a cre­ative act: this is reflected in Gen. 1–3 Gen. 1 is about God bring­ing order from non-order Gen. 1 explains the ori­gins of our home (our per­sonal, spir­i­tual place), not our house (the phys­i­cal place where we live)
Part Three 11m.23s	the word bara’ (cre­ated) often refers to func­tional rather than mate­r­ial cre­ation in the Bible Gen. 1 focuses on func­tional over mate­r­ial ori­gins (e.g. time, weather, food) Gen. 1 is a tem­ple story ((This notion helps to explain what it means for human beings to be made in the “image of God.”)) the sev­enth day (rest) is impor­tant in the cre­ation story: rest expresses con­trol over ordered sys­tem, and God comes to rest in the cosmos—not to sleep, but oper­ate (see e.g. Psa. 132.7–8, 13–14)—and estab­lishes it as his “home” ((Why the Sabbath, then, in light of Ex. 20.8–11? Because God’s in control, and we need to remember that—not because God decided to “take a day off.”)) the days in Gen. 1 are lit­eral 24-hour days, but they are about the inau­gu­ra­tion of the cos­mos as God’s tem­ple, not mate­r­ial ori­gins, so this fact says noth­ing about the age of the uni­verse, or the Earth, or life
Part Four 16m.45s	the phrase “it was good” is about proper func­tion, not moral­ity (see e.g. Gen. 2.18) what­ever order God estab­lished was good, but not every­thing was ordered (e.g. sea, ser­pent, out­side the Gar­den of Eden) the sec­ond account of cre­ation in Gen. 2–3 is a sequel to, not a syn­op­tic retelling of, the first account in Gen. 1 (e.g. like Luke/Acts as opposed to Matthew/Mark) the peo­ple in Gen. 1 aren’t nec­es­sar­ily the same as in Gen. 2–3: the sec­ond account of cre­ation doesn’t need to fit into the sixth day in the first account of creation the sec­ond account of cre­ation con­tains arche­typal rather than sci­en­tific descrip­tions, so there is no bib­li­cal account of mate­r­ial human origins humans were made in the image of God and given priestly roles: to serve and keep (Gen. 2.15), with Eve to help Adam in his sacred task appli­ca­tion: we need to min­is­ter bet­ter to scientists appli­ca­tion: we need to do bet­ter at evan­ge­lism, and not keep peo­ple out of the king­dom because of their sci­en­tific con­clu­sions about origins appli­ca­tion: we need to do bet­ter at deal­ing with attri­tion that results from young peo­ple believ­ing that, in accept­ing sci­en­tific con­clu­sions, they’re forced to give up the Bible and their faith in sum­mary: we need to stop mak­ing the Bible what it isn’t

 Dr. John Walton: What Is the Ancient Near East[ern Context?]
A Seven Minute Seminary






THE EGYPTIAN COSMOS

of Geb and Nut

Links to:

Sumerian Cosmology

Akkadian Cosmology

Egyptian Cosmology

Ancient Hebrew Cosmology

Also: 

 Preview: John Walton's, "The Lost World of Genesis"

Do We Have an Open Bible or a Closed Bible? Or, What Makes an Open Bible Closed?

 

I recently wrote a post that detailed the differences between reading the Bible as a Scriptural Bible as versus an Academic Bible. For myself, I believe the Bible may be read broadly in both ways, and with an equal balance lest it become distorted by dogma on the one hand, or skepticism on the other. But when taking the Genesis account of creation and asking whether it is historical or figurative immediately can divide Christians between a literalistic reading of Genesis or a non-literal reading of the story of creation. And to further presage my case, I would call into question Paul's definitive understanding of the Genesis story by flatly stating that he could not know the answer, nor indeed was it necessary that he knew the answer. To tell Paul that mankind evolved would have made no sense to him in his ancient view of cosmogony filled with mythic import. For so it was, holding serpents that reasoned with man; god-like humans who could speak to the God of the Universe; who lived in undisturbed Paradise that bore a special fruit to give one life and another death; who nakedly walked-about in innocence with one anther without a care in the world or a fight between them; who daily communed within the pleasant, sheltering spaces of an environ that held neither harm nor ill to them such as sickness or death. No. Paul simply understood God to have created man and went on from there. Even so, an evolutionary view of man's creation can also see God as man's Creator. And though both viewpoints differ by the process (an ancient v. a modern cosmogony; a process of an immediate v. a mediated generation of creation) the outcome is much the same. And yet, it may not be as simple as all that because these very different approaches to the these questions affects how we read the Bible and understand God. Hence we have a secondary problem...

 

And that problem is determinative to how we read the Bible through the lenses of our belief systems (in several previous articles of late I've described these as our epistemologies). To read the Bible literally is to never question its texts nor to use any outside academic disciplines to be placed "over" the text of Scripture. However, a non-literal view will fully utilized any-and-all resources as necessary to determining the meaning of the Biblical text. As example, the applicable usage of the evolutionary theory coupled with a historical/critical method that would compare creation stories between ancient near eastern countries (from the same time period and place) would be considered just and proper. As such, and from what we know of history, Paul could not know anything about evolution because he was removed from the event (as common sense would tell us) and probably had an imperfect academic understanding of the similar ancient creation accounts that had existed at one time between very old cultures.Why? Because the Jewish text was written 600 years earlier from his century, and because the other similar creation accounts from Sumeria and Akkadia were much, much older even still (2500 years and more). And no, I don't believe that God told him, nor that it was necessary for Paul to know this information, based upon the message he wished to communicate. Namely, that Jesus is Lord and Savior. God simply used his ancient world-and-life view (or epistemic paradigms) and spoke to him of Jesus' comparative worth-and-meaning versus his interpretive knowledge of Jewish literature at the time (which now compounds our historic contextual studies four-fold! Requiring knowledge of ancient cultures - both Paul's and earlier; knowledge of Jewish beliefs as they transformed from Moses' Day to the Jesus'; Paul's biographical makeup himself; and of creation stories themselves; plus innumerable other details!)

 

The Scriptural Bible approach (also known as Sola Scriptura) would ignore all scientific and archaeologic criteria and tell us that what the text says is what it says (whatever that may be according to whoever is speaking at the time and according to the epistemology that they wish to vouchsafe). Whereas the Academic Bible approach would say that such a declarative raison de force reinforces a much larger religious view that is less naively dogmatic. While also saying that this same non-transparent epistemology creates in itself an unnecessarily restrictive (and protective) position not allowing additional tools and resources to be brought to bear on the historic understanding of the biblical text and culture of the ancient world at that time.

 

Another problem is how God spoke to Paul. That is, how Paul received God's revelation. At base here is whether God spoke to Paul as an automaton-like transcribing machine. Or if He spoke to Paul through all of Paul's primitive knowledge of the world, his character and personality traits, his temperament, life-based experiences, and so on. Of course the answer is yes to the second proposal and no to the first. Which is a relief because it then leaves a lot of room for the multi-dimensional uses of the human symbolic language consequently providing Scripture with its relevancy of communication to us today (I think of this as the mystery of language - that is, its currency and relevancy). If the human language were simply a machine language or even a reductionistic mathematical expression of formulaic syllogisms than it would have very little value for us today. In fact, I think we could rightly argue that by its very exactness of statement we would find the Bible immediately conflicted and obtuse (as machine type languages become requiring upgrades to the relevant environment around itself because it cannot transition on its own). But as expressed inside of human language instead of machine language interpretive relevancy and vogue lives and breathes and remains open to us today. As example, its stories (or narratives) in-and-of themselves would defeat any of our efforts to systematized the Bible into a complete collection of systematic statements or doctrines. It can't be done. And when it has been done creates too many fractured interpretations of God and the world.

 

And yet another problem is that the academic approach helps to take away the magic-like qualities attributed to the Bible which causes us to think of it as a mysterious answer book. And placing us in jeopardy of worshipping the Bible rather than the God-behind-the-Bible (what we call bibliolatry). And by adding magic-like doctrines of inerrancy to the Bible (where the Bible is meant to have no errors and is unbowed before man's more finite comprehensions) we remove it once again from the realms of external resources like science or ancient literary studies or even the study of the human language called philology. And when all is said-and-done we've created an iron-clad dogmatic system of belief that cannot interpret the Bible in any other way than through its own use of a strict literalism (dogmatic systems like Evangelicalism are an example of this). Completing the circle, modern day science and academic disciplines are no longer allowed to as outside resources helpful to understanding the Bible because they do not have the "deified" status of the Bible and thus cannot critique its sacred pages. This final qualifier makes the circle complete, as we say.

However, it has been the argument here at Relevancy22, that biblical/historical/scientific criticism must be used in understanding the Bible. If not, we can no longer hear God's living Word having created a closed Bible that speaks back to us of our own systems and beliefs, rather than of God's faithful and everlasting voice. An open Bible says that one must use both approaches - the Scriptural Bible AND the Academic Bible approach - in order to properly hear and understand God's Word. Even more so, we have an open Bible that is not closed off in its communication to us. That is not speaking back to us our own dogmas and religious beliefs. As a broadly Scriptural Bible I understand it as God's Word(s) to me (one which requires the reader to identify his epistemic sense of interpretation; thus requiring self-doubt and honesty). And as an Academic Bible I understand that it retains mysteries lost through the years from its originating authorship that cannot be understood except through the use of external academic tools provided for the task. That my own naive or simplistic interpretation of biblical texts couched within my own epistemic framework may not be enough to fully disclose its truths. By doing all this and more, dogmatic religious beliefs are kept at bay and the Bible remains living and relevant for us today.

 

R.E. Slater

November 16, 2012 

 

 

Previous articles that may be helpful -

Why Do We Need a Historical Adam? The Bible Doesn't

Peter Enns Responds (to the Sola Scriptura view)



Continue to -

Index to past articles on "An Open Faith and Open Theology"






 

Why Do We Need a Historical Adam? The Bible Doesn't.

"...Does Paul need Adam to be a historical figure in order to make his argument in Romans 5?

No, not really.... It is a fundamentally anological link, not a fundamentally historical link."

 

"Genesis is not best understood as a textbook on natural history."

 

"But it is getting harder and harder to make a case for a historical Adam."

 

"But, really, who needs a historical Adam? I don’t think Paul does. Nor do I think

that the essential trustworthiness of the Bible depends on Adam’s historicity."

 

- dm Williams

 

On August 16, 2011, I reported on a NPR broadcast questioning the existence of Adam and Eve, which then led to another follow up article on January 6, 2012. Rather than be annoyed and bothered by NPR's program it more-or-less spoke to me of moving in the right directions in apprehending how to read the bible from its own perspective rather than from my own perspective. That our epistemologies often get in the way of hearing God's Word because of what we think it is saying rather than what it is saying.

 

Unknown to me at the time, another fellow listener likewise responded similarly as I did by making analogies to another more recent figure, the little-celebrated physicist Robert Oppenheimer, by relating his atomic research to that of the Greek legend Prometheus, the god of fire. From there he correlated the apostle Paul's primitive understanding of the ancient biblical world to that of the creation story of Adam and Eve. His conclusions echoed mine own written many months earlier causing me to repost this more recent article here below so that when we turn our attention to the Genesis story of Creation at some later time we may have a little background in which to think through these areas of interpretation and dogma. One that sees the obstacles of a literal hermeneutic within a traditional Christian epistemology prohibiting an expanded bible deepened in its usages of prose and poetry. One that is set against the cultural regards of earlier, non-scientific, epistemologies built upon religious folklores and presumptions rather than upon historic renderings resulting from within the ancient biblical cultures themselves. Apparently, the durability of folklore was as true then as it is now, but with the significant difference that we should know better in our 21st Century scholarship, and should likewise be informing our congregations of this literary insight rather than withholding certain knowledge from them.

Consequently, Paul had no excuses because modern science would not be around for another 2000 years. And God's illumined inspiration did not intend to revise ancient man's understanding of the natural world, but to inform Paul and his readers of Christ's redemptive work of spiritual life relative to sin's ingress through humanity bringing death. The purpose of revelation then was to speak to God's salvation through His Son Jesus. It was not to correct the culture of Paul's day towards a more informed scientific understanding. No. They did not have the mindset to understand it. They did not have the scientific tools to prove it. They did not have the academic disciplines to study it (biology, math, chemistry, quantum physics, anthropology, sociology, psychology, etc). They did not have the academic communities to discuss it. They did not have the support of either their religion nor their communities to go forward in their investigations with it. Nor did they have the funding, students and livelihood to provide it. No, God spoke to Paul about the spiritual value and physical accomplishment of Jesus' death and resurrection. Not to correct their primitive understanding of the Earth and its environment. Nor to scientifically inform their creation stories based upon eons of oral legends handed down to them through their generations. In Paul's day, Adam may have been considered a real historical fact - or so we think - but Adam may as well have been considered a historic legend. Regardless, evolutionary theory dispels all creation accounts as myth and legend, regardless of the culture or society (be they Chinese, Mayan, Sumerian, Greek, or some other), else it is our sciences that have over reached... which does not seem to be the case. Consequently, it is our own epistemologies that now over reach and require dispelling when strictly interpreting the Genesis account of creation as literally true, rather than as an allegorically true revelation by the God of creation (and specifically, the Hebrew story of creation and none other).

But lest we become prideful we should always have the mindset to be testing our present day's knowledge against Scripture because both our mindset, and our knowledge, can-and-will change over time-and-circumstance. And for the record, God's understanding isn't the one needing to be changed here. No. It is our own. Our own epistemologies of interpretive language that we think we know but never conclusively in the promised light of future languages of discovery and means. God's Word is profound and we are no less committed to its revelation than previous generations of believers. However, it is we ourselves that must learn to be critiqued so that God's Word becomes more fully revealed and made known. That is the hope of updating the Christian faith within that of today's postmodern discoveries throughout its upcoming generations. We do not lessen the Word of God but do by these progressive acts make it more relevant to our times and generations. Should we not, we do then create an unwarranted skepticism and undue prejudice against God's Word causing it to feel more like a dying religion and irrelevant dogma to today's postmodern academia and cultures than the marvelously living faith that it really is.

This then is the task we have set before us as Christian men and women. Not to rewrite science according to our prejudices and religious beliefs. But to rewrite our epistemologies to better embrace God's holy Word. It is we ourselves that must stand in judgment. Not the bible. But our creeds and doctrines refusing the revelatory light of postmodernity's discoveries both old and new. As a Christian, we should never fear change and progress. But embrace it as it makes sense however belatedly we come to its acceptance after due time of prayerful study and theological review. And so it is now that the time has come to do this task. That our past 500 years of Reformation faith must now update itself if only by the evidence that the church's present laity, like myself, are beginning to notice that we are unnecessarily clinging overlong to yesteryear's dogmas and traditions. And that our pulpits and universities must likewise change. And as they do I suspect that God will survive our thoughts and imaginations for my trust in God is infinite. But my trust in man's knowledge is cursory at best knowing how we like to change things towards our own way of thinking (I speak both of the church and of our scientific communities). To that end we do the best we can in academic discipline and honesty while holding in tension multiple levels of understanding God's Word knowing someday all will become clear and light. To that end, may God's peace and blessing be upon you this day. And may this present task set before us grant God's loving guidance and faithful care. Amen.

R.E. Slater

November 13, 2012

 

Other articles that may be helpful -


Do We Have an Open Bible or a Closed Bible? Or, What Makes an Open Bible Closed?


Peter Enns Responds (to the Sola Scriptura view)


Evangelicals Question The Existence Of Adam And Eve

 

 

 

How God Created by Evolution:

A Proposed Theory of Man's Evolutionary Development

 

 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Who Needs a Historical Adam?

http://resurrectingraleigh.com/2012/10/19/who-needs-a-historical-adam/

Posted by dmwilliams83

October 19, 2012
 

The other week I picked up the biography, American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. Robert Oppenheimer was a brilliant theoretical physicist who played a key role in the Manhattan Project, helping to develop the world’s first nuclear weapons. After World War II, however, he worked unsuccessfully to prevent a nuclear arms race between the United States and the Soviet Union, fearing the devastating power of his own invention. Naturally enough, his biographers liken his story to the myth of Prometheus, writing in the preface of the book:

 

Like that rebellious Greek god Prometheus–who stole fire from Zeus and bestowed it upon humankind, Oppenheimer gave us atomic fire. But then, when he tried to control it, when he sought to make us aware of its terrible dangers, the powers-that-be, like Zeus, rose up in anger to punish him. (xiii)

 

It would be hard to think of a more apposite comparison, a better metaphorical lens for understanding Oppenheimer’s place in our world. But of course, there are a few differences between Prometheus and Oppenheimer, chief among them being the fact that Oppenheimer is a historical figure of recent memory and Prometheus is a fictional character of a mythic past. But no one in their right mind would say that that fact diminishes the validity or the power of Bird and Sherwin’s comparison. No one would say that Bird and Sherwin’s likening of Oppenheimer to Prometheus commits them to the historicity of Prometheus’s story, or that believing that Prometheus’s story is mythological somehow undermines one’s grounds for believing in Robert Oppenheimer.

This morning I was reading the fifth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans where he likens Jesus to Adam. Paul writes:

Therefore, just as (hosper) 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 (typos) of the one who was to come. (5:12-14, ESV)

With Bird and Sherwin’s biography in the back of my mind it struck me today as never before that Paul’s comparison of Jesus to Adam is fundamentally just that, a comparison. More specifically, Adam’s role in the comparison is that Adam is the typos, the figure, the pattern, the model for Jesus, “the one who was to come (tou mellontos).” Jesus, like Adam, is one man whose singular decisive action has had ramifications for all of subsequent humanity.

 

The analogy isn’t perfect, as Paul acknowledges:

 

But the free gift is not like (ouk hws) 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 (ouk hws) the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. 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. (Romans 5:15-17, ESV)

The analogy isn’t perfect. Whereas Adam’s action (like Prometheus’s) was catastrophic, Jesus’s action was, to borrow Tolkien’s word, eucatastrophic. Whereas Adam’s was an act of disobedience, Jesus’s action was one of obedience. Whereas Adam’s action was a betrayal of God, Jesus’s action was a gift of God. Whereas Adam’s action brought about a regime of death, Jesus’s action brought about the victory of life. Jesus, in other words, is like Adam turned right-side-up.

The more I look at this passage, the less I see how it makes a lick of difference to the force of Paul’s argument whether Adam is a historical figure or not. To my mind, the fundamental analogy still holds even if we were to add one more disanalogous element to those we have already rehearsed: whereas Adam was a fictional character of a mythic past, Jesus was for Paul a historical figure of recent memory. No matter. The comparison still holds. Jesus is, in some important ways, like Adam, just as He is said elsewhere in the New Testament to be like Moses, like Jonah, like Jeremiah, like Elijah, like a lamb, like a vine, like a door, like a shepherd, and like dozens of other things.
 

Rembrandt’s “St. Paul at His Writing Desk,” 1630
 

 

So did Paul personally believe in a historical Adam? Probably. He was a first century Jew. I’d be surprised if he didn’t (and I’d also be surprised if he didn’t believe in a geocentric cosmos, for that matter).

 

But does Paul need Adam to be a historical figure in order to make his argument in Romans 5? No, not really. And I would say the same, mutatis mutandis, for his argument in 1 Corinthians 15. The link between Adam and Jesus that he is making is more like Bird and Sherwin’s link between Prometheus and Oppenheimer than it is like the link between, say, Jesus and Pontius Pilate. It is a fundamentally anological link, not a fundamentally historical link.

 

All of this, of course, matters for those of us who take the New Testament to be our primary source for thinking about life, the universe, and everything, and who are keeping abreast of conversations in both the natural sciences and biblical scholarship which suggest that Genesis is not best understood as a textbook on natural history (see, e.g., this story by NPR). The evidence isn’t all in. It never is. But it is getting harder and harder to make a case for a historical Adam and that is disconcerting in excelsis for many Evangelicals, Fundamentalists, and others who see the Christian faith itself as being on the line in these discussions.

 

But, really, who needs a historical Adam? I don’t think Paul does. Nor do I think that the essential trustworthiness of the Bible depends on Adam’s historicity.

 

So who needs–really needs–a historical Adam? Adherents to a traducian account of the soul and a peculiar understanding of original sin? Devotees of the Westminster Confession of Faith? Biblical literalists?

 

But these are all varieties of Christian faith, not Christianity per se. There have always been within the Christian tradition (better?) alternatives to these particular theological stances, some of which do not logically depend upon the historicity of the Adam story. If the evidence should continue to mount against the historicity of Adam, the choice before us should not be whether we will be Christians or not, but whether we will be these sorts of Christians or those sorts of Christians. Christianity itself is simply not at stake.

 

So do you need a historical Adam? If so, help me understand why you do. If you don’t, you can tell me about that too.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

 

 



The Apostle Paul
Illustration by Denise Klitsie



 

Does Paul’s Christ Require a Historical Adam?

http://cms.fuller.edu/TNN/Issues/Spring_2013/Does_Paul_s_Christ_Require_a_Historical_Adam/

 

By J. R. Daniel Kirk

Spring 2013

The Christian tradition has made much of Adam. We in the Western church speak regularly of the Fall of humanity that took place in Adam’s primal disobedience. Theologically, we speak of inherited sin and guilt—an original [(corporate)] sin that renders us all complicit. We are guilty of humanity’s first great act of disobedience and enslaved to sin’s power.

Such theological claims derive more from our reading of Paul’s reflections on Adam than from the Genesis story itself. For many, the most significant theological reasons for affirming a historical Adam have to do not with what Genesis 1–3 may or may not teach about human origins, but with the theology of Adam that Paul articulates in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15. In short, if there is no historical Adam with whom we are enmeshed in the guilt and power of sin, how can we affirm that in Christ we participate in the justification and freedom of grace?

The levels of freedom (or lack thereof) that many of us experience with regard to the question of Adam as a historical person is inseparable from the theology that we see bound up with him. For some, to reject Adam as a historical person is to reject the authority of Scripture and trustworthiness of the very passages within which we learn of justification and resurrection.¹ Others are concerned that to deny a historical Adam is to deny the narrative of a good world gone wrong that serves as the very basis for the good news of Jesus Christ. In short, if there is no Fall, there can be no salvation from it and restoration to what was and/or might have been.² Even more expansively, Douglas Farrow concludes that “there is very little of importance in Christian theology, hence also in doxology and practice, that is not at stake in the question of whether or not we allow a historical dimension to the Fall.”³

High stakes, indeed. But I want to suggest that things might not be so dire. Specifically, I want to open up the conversation to the possibility that the gospel does not, in fact, depend on a historical Adam or historical Fall in large part because what Paul says about Adam stems from his prior conviction about the saving work of Christ. The theological points Paul wishes to make concern the saving work of the resurrected Christ and the means by which he makes them is the shared cultural and religious framework of his first-century Jewish context.

Christ and Adam

Paul has an important story to tell. It is the story of God’s new creation breaking into the world through the surprising mechanism of a crucified and resurrected Christ. This conviction about the new creation being brought about by Christ provides Paul with the ground to stand on as he draws Adam into the conversation in Romans 5 and 1 Corinthians 15.

One crucial dynamic of Paul’s Adam Christology is representation. Christ does, is, and becomes what we need to participate in, be, and become in order to be God’s eternal family. For this reason, Paul takes hold of the “image of God” language with which we are so familiar from Genesis 1, and uses it to describe Jesus as he stands in relation to us: “he decided in advance that they would be conformed to the image of his Son.”⁴ Christ represents who we are, and who we are becoming, as members of God’s new-creation family.

This representation is focused on two particular aspects of Christ’s saving work: his death on the cross and his resurrection from the dead. Romans 5 develops Paul’s Adam Christology around Christ’s death. Throughout the latter half of Romans 5, Paul outlines how Christ’s act entails benefits for many: it brings about God’s gracious gift in a manner that more than undoes the work of Adam, even reclaiming humanity’s privilege of ruling the world for God (5:15–17; cf. Genesis 1:26).

Similar dynamics unfurl in 1 Corinthians 15, where Adam is viewed as the progenitor of death in contrast to Christ who, as God’s new representative human being, anticipates humanity’s coming resurrection life (15:21–22). A new humanity has been inaugurated by the resurrected Christ.

This theological framework positions us to step into Paul’s statements about Adam. Paul is working with the stories of Israel, as told in the Old Testament, but from the perspective of someone who knows, now, that God’s great act of salvation has come in Christ.

Christ, the Law, and History

This brings us to our central question: To what extent do we need to affirm a historical Adam in order also to affirm the saving dynamics of Paul’s Adam Christology?

Romans 5 presents us with what are arguably the most pressing reasons to affirm a historical Adam. There we find these striking words from Paul:

• Sin entered the world through one person (5:12).
• Many people died through what one person did wrong (5:15).
• The judgment that came through one person’s sin led to punishment (5:16).
• Death ruled because of one person’s failure (5:17).
• Judgment fell on everyone through the failure of one person (5:18).
• Many people were made sinners through the disobedience of one person (5:19).

Paul is clearly appealing to both the common experience of enslavement to sin and death and the normative narratives of Israel regarding Adam to explain the reality that Christ overcomes. Moreover, the consistent point of comparison is that one person, Adam, represents the rest of humanity in coming under the guilt, the power, or the condemnation of sin.

One of the first questions worth confronting is whether this passage allows for various understandings of how Adam might represent humanity. Thus, for example, might there be room here, not for a physical, natural progenitor of all subsequent human beings, but for a person who was chosen by God from a developing or, at any rate, numerically numerous, human race to play the role of representative in obedience and disobedience?

But the question that will clamor for the attention of many is whether such a moment in which sin’s guilt and power are unleashed as the lords of humanity is required at all. There seems to have been death in this world millions of years before human beings came on the scene. Is it possible to affirm the point Paul wishes to make—that God’s grace, righteousness, and life abound to the many because of Christ—without simultaneously affirming the assumptions with which he illustrated these things to be true?

Writing to the Romans, Paul wished to argue that God’s people are found in Christ, and thereby cut off other possible ways of construing idealized human identity and what salvation and the people of God might look like. In claiming that Christ is (un)like Adam, Paul was simultaneously taking other options off the table. What difference might it make to our discussions about a historical Adam that Paul was claiming, “Christ, is (un)like Adam, therefore God’s people are not demarcated by Torah”? This latter statement is, in fact, the point of Paul’s argument in Romans 5 (cf. 5:12–14, 20–21). Paul’s Adam theology is an avenue toward affirming that God has one worldwide people; therefore, the specially blessed people are not defined by the story of circumcision. But he does not ask the question of whether an evolutionary account of human origins might stand within the story of God’s new creation work in Christ, and his argument is not aimed at denying such an explanation of where we came from.

Retelling the Story of Origins

 When the ancients told stories of human origins, it was never simply to tell people “what happened.” Instead, such narratives indicate why their particular people and their particular god played the roles of sovereigns of the world. Genesis 1 is an introduction to the covenant story of Israel, in which God promises to make fruitful Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and also multiply them (17:6; 28:3; 35:11; 47:27; 48:4). The story of Adam in Genesis is written with the latter story of Israel in mind, so that the reader can see that Israel is destined to fulfill God’s primordial promise of not only filling the Earth but also ruling over it (cf. 17:6).

Similarly, Paul employs the story of Adam based on his new understanding that Christ is the man through whom God has chosen to rule the world and that the churches are the people who are the fulfillment of the promise of numerous descendants. For neither Paul nor the writer of Genesis does the story of Adam exist as a standalone narrative to which later history must correspond. Instead, the convictions about what God has done at a later point in history determine how the Adam story is read.

New Testament scholarship over the past half century has developed the insight that the first data point in Paul’s Christian theologizing was his understanding that the cross and resurrection formed the saving act of God. In the 1960s, Herman Ridderbos argued that this fundamental conviction becomes the great act of God by which all other acts and ideas are understood.⁵ The significance of this focus on Christ is that it ripples out in all directions: not only does Paul rethink the future in light of Jesus’ death and resurrection, but he also reinterprets what came before. Thus, Ridderbos concludes that “Paul’s whole doctrine of the world and man in sin . . . is only to be perceived in the light of his insight into the all-important redemptive event in Christ.”⁶ A decade later E. P. Sanders concurred, claiming that Paul reasons “from solution to plight.”⁷ Because Paul knows that God has provided the solution to the problem of human sin in the crucified and risen Christ, he therefore reassesses the place of the Law, in particular, in God’s saving story. Romans 5 is one particular outworking of this.

Both Ridderbos and Sanders have come to the same conclusion: what is a “given” for Paul is the saving event of Jesus’ death and resurrection. The other things he says, especially about sin, the Law, and eschatology, are reinterpretations that grow from the fundamental reality of the Christ event. Recognizing this relieves the pressure that sometimes builds up around a historical Adam. Contrary to the fears expressed by Douglas Farrow, we can now recognize that Adam is not the foundation on which the system of Christian faith and life is built, such that removing him means that the whole edifice comes crashing down. Instead, the Adam of the past is one spire in a large edifice whose foundation is Christ. The gospel need not be compromised if we find ourselves having to part ways with Paul’s assumption that there is a historical Adam, because we share Paul’s fundamental conviction that the crucified Messiah is the resurrected Lord over all.

Where, then, are we left, if the pressures of scientific inquiry lead us to take down the spire of a literal, historical Adam? What might it look like for us to faithfully receive Paul’s testimony not merely by saying what he said, but by doing what he did? Might it be possible that we could retell the stories of both Adam and evolutionary sciences such that they continued to reflect our conviction that the endpoint of God’s great story is nothing else than new creation in the crucified and risen Christ? For many, the cognitive dissonance between the sciences and a historical Adam has already become too great to continue holding both.⁸ We therefore have to carefully determine whether the cause of Christ, and of truth, is better served by indicating that a choice must be made between the two, or by retelling the narrative about the origins of humanity as we now understand it in light of the death and resurrection of Christ.

The task of reimagining a Christian story of origins for our modern era has already begun.⁹ As it continues, faithful articulation of our story will have to attempt to hold together for our day what Paul’s articulation held together so beautifully for his own: humanity as a whole, not one particular race or ethnicity or nationality of people, is the purview of God’s saving work in Christ; humanity’s final destiny has been determined by the advent of the new creation in Christ’s resurrection; and this solution in Christ indicates that the problem to be solved entails not only personal estrangement from God, but a whole world that fails to live up to the harmony, peace, fruitfulness, life, and eternality of the God who created it. Perhaps most importantly, we must not allow biology or physics or chemistry to have the last word about the destiny of humanity. The reality of our lives as creatures limited by death and decay must stand in subordinate relationship to the eschatological reality of new creation that God has granted us in Christ.

To accompany Paul on the task of telling the story of the beginning in light of Christ, while parting ways with his first-century understanding of science and history, is not to abandon the Christian faith in favor of science. Instead, it demands a fresh act of faith in which we continue to hold fast to the truth that has always defined Christianity: the crucified Messiah is the resurrected Lord over all. Belief in Christ’s resurrection was a stumbling block for the ancients, and it is a stumbling block for us moderns as well—and increasingly so as we learn more about our human story and the biological processes entailed in life on this Earth. We do not give up on the central article of Christian faith when we use it to tell a renewed story of where we came from. On the contrary, we thereby give it the honor which is its due.
 

Retelling the Story of Origins
When the ancients told stories of human origins, it was never simply to tell people “what happened.” Instead, such narratives indicate why their particular people and their particular god played the roles of sovereigns of the world. Genesis 1 is an introduction to the covenant story of Israel, in which God promises to make fruitful Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and also multiply them (17:6; 28:3; 35:11; 47:27; 48:4). The story of Adam in Genesis is written with the latter story of Israel in mind, so that the reader can see that Israel is destined to fulfill God’s primordial promise of not only filling the Earth but also ruling over it (cf. 17:6).

Similarly, Paul employs the story of Adam based on his new understanding that Christ is the man through whom God has chosen to rule the world and that the churches are the people who are the fulfillment of the promise of numerous descendants. For neither Paul nor the writer of Genesis does the story of Adam exist as a standalone narrative to which later history must correspond. Instead, the convictions about what God has done at a later point in history determine how the Adam story is read.
New Testament scholarship over the past half century has developed the insight that the first data point in Paul’s Christian theologizing was his understanding that the cross and resurrection formed the saving act of God. In the 1960s, Herman Ridderbos argued that this fundamental conviction becomes the great act of God by which all other acts and ideas are understood.⁵ The significance of this focus on Christ is that it ripples out in all directions: not only does Paul rethink the future in light of Jesus’ death and resurrection, but he also reinterprets what came before. Thus, Ridderbos concludes that “Paul’s whole doctrine of the world and man in sin . . . is only to be perceived in the light of his insight into the all-important redemptive event in Christ.”⁶ A decade later E. P. Sanders concurred, claiming that Paul reasons “from solution to plight.”⁷ Because Paul knows that God has provided the solution to the problem of human sin in the crucified and risen Christ, he therefore reassesses the place of the Law, in particular, in God’s saving story. Romans 5 is one particular outworking of this.
Both Ridderbos and Sanders have come to the same conclusion: what is a “given” for Paul is the saving event of Jesus’ death and resurrection. The other things he says, especially about sin, the Law, and eschatology, are reinterpretations that grow from the fundamental reality of the Christ event. Recognizing this relieves the pressure that sometimes builds up around a historical Adam. Contrary to the fears expressed by Douglas Farrow, we can now recognize that Adam is not the foundation on which the system of Christian faith and life is built, such that removing him means that the whole edifice comes crashing down. Instead, the Adam of the past is one spire in a large edifice whose foundation is Christ. The gospel need not be compromised if we find ourselves having to part ways with Paul’s assumption that there is a historical Adam, because we share Paul’s fundamental conviction that the crucified Messiah is the resurrected Lord over all.

Body, Soul, and Human Life
Joel B. Green
(Baker Academic, 2009)

Exploring what Scripture and theology teach about issues such as being made in the divine image, the importance of community, sin, free will, salvation, and the afterlife, Green argues that a dualistic view of the human person is inconsistent with both science and Scripture.

MORE

Where, then, are we left, if the pressures of scientific inquiry lead us to take down the spire of a literal, historical Adam? What might it look like for us to faithfully receive Paul’s testimony not merely by saying what he said, but by doing what he did? Might it be possible that we could retell the stories of both Adam and evolutionary sciences such that they continued to reflect our conviction that the endpoint of God’s great story is nothing else than new creation in the crucified and risen Christ? For many, the cognitive dissonance between the sciences and a historical Adam has already become too great to continue holding both.⁸ We therefore have to carefully determine whether the cause of Christ, and of truth, is better served by indicating that a choice must be made between the two, or by retelling the narrative about the origins of humanity as we now understand it in light of the death and resurrection of Christ.
The task of reimagining a Christian story of origins for our modern era has already begun.⁹ As it continues, faithful articulation of our story will have to attempt to hold together for our day what Paul’s articulation held together so beautifully for his own: humanity as a whole, not one particular race or ethnicity or nationality of people, is the purview of God’s saving work in Christ; humanity’s final destiny has been determined by the advent of the new creation in Christ’s resurrection; and this solution in Christ indicates that the problem to be solved entails not only personal estrangement from God, but a whole world that fails to live up to the harmony, peace, fruitfulness, life, and eternality of the God who created it. Perhaps most importantly, we must not allow biology or physics or chemistry to have the last word about the destiny of humanity. The reality of our lives as creatures limited by death and decay must stand in subordinate relationship to the eschatological reality of new creation that God has granted us in Christ.
To accompany Paul on the task of telling the story of the beginning in light of Christ, while parting ways with his first-century understanding of science and history, is not to abandon the Christian faith in favor of science. Instead, it demands a fresh act of faith in which we continue to hold fast to the truth that has always defined Christianity: the crucified Messiah is the resurrected Lord over all. Belief in Christ’s resurrection was a stumbling block for the ancients, and it is a stumbling block for us moderns as well—and increasingly so as we learn more about our human story and the biological processes entailed in life on this Earth. We do not give up on the central article of Christian faith when we use it to tell a renewed story of where we came from. On the contrary, we thereby give it the honor which is its due.

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ENDNOTES 

1. E.g., A. B. Caneday, “The Language of God and Adam’s Genesis and Historicity in Paul’s Gospel,” Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 15 (2011): 26–59.
2. E.g., C. John Collins, Did Adam and Eve Really Exist? Who They Were and Why You Should Care (Wheaton: Crossway, 2011), 133–35; John W. Mahoney, “Why an Historical Adam Matters for the Doctrine of Original Sin,” Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 15 (2011): 60–78; Stephen J. Wellum, “Editorial: Debating the Historicity of Adam: Does It Matter?” Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 15 (2011): 2–3.
3. Douglas Farrow, “Fall,” in The Oxford Companion to Christian Thought (ed. A. Hastings, A. Mason, and H. S. Pyper; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 233–34.
4. All scriptural citations are from the Common English Bible unless otherwise indicated.
5. Herman Ridderbos, Paul: An Outline of His Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 44–90.
6. Ridderbos, Paul, 137.
7. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1977), 474–508.
8. See, e.g., John R. Schneider, “Recent Genetic Science and Christian Theology on Human Origins: An ‘Aesthetic Superlapsarianism,’” Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith 62 (2010): 196–213.
9. E.g., Daniel C. Harlow, “After Adam: Reading Adam in an Age of Evolutionary Science,” Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith 62 (2010): 179–95.