Evolution + Christianity = ????

Al Mohler, Southern Baptist guru and theologian extraordinaire, believes that evolution and Christianity can’t go together. James Dobson, conservative evangelical radio host and leader in the pro-family movement, supports teaching intelligent design in public classrooms. Vince Miller, Georgetown professor of theology and Catholic genius, says much progress has been made integrating the claims of Christian faith with evolutionary science. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, French Jesuit missionary to China, claimed that the Genesis account of Creation is metaphor and an understanding of the unfolding cosmos in evolutionary terms is necessary and can be, at its heart, Christian.


Why do I mention these varied opinions? Growing up, I was taught to believe in the literal translation of Genesis. God created the world in six days, Adam and Eve were real people, and the age of the Earth is only about 5 or 6 thousand years old. I attended seminars, read books that encouraged me to argue with my high school biology teachers, and came to see evolution as the great devil of modern science that leads people away from God.


With my Georgetown theological training, you might think that I would have abandoned the literalist interpretation of Genesis by now. As my believing professors claim, the work of famous theologians in the past century has un-problematically harmonized the teachings of Christian faith with those of evolution. Still, my skepticism of the scientific method when paired with the overwhelming trust I place in the authority of the Holy Writ has far outweighed any impact my teachers may have had on me when it comes to believing in evolution. I am still a biblical literalist at heart, and I do believe in a young earth and a real fall and a God active in human history.


What worries me most about evolution, I think, are the corollary philosophies that tend to go along with the idea. First, I need to define what is meant when I say the word “evolution.” In 1859, Charles Darwin proposed the first widely-accepted evolutionary theory by claiming that new species come about through natural selection. Put another way, natural selection can be seen as survival of the fittest. Darwin proposed that as the weak members of a species die off and the stronger members survive to reproduce, the species itself will change and become more like the stronger members. Thus, the species becomes more adapted to the environment as the better-suited individuals live to pass on their genes to future generations. In social theory, natural selection has been used as a way to understand poverty and inequality. Social Darwinism might say that the poor are poor because they are less-fit humans and we needn’t worry about them because they will eventually die out and be replaced by the rich anyways. Eugenics, a science that many claim is the logical result of evolutionary theory applied to humans, is “the study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding.” Eugenics was used by Hitler when he sought to prove the superiority of the Aryan Germans over the less-able races of Jews and Gypsies.


What is Scripture’s view of natural selection? I’m not sure if the Bible speaks specifically to the modern scientific notion, but I am pretty sure that we can find out biblical perspectives on the Darwinian philosophy and worldview especially in regards to spiritual matters. How does evolution, and specifically the idea of survival of the fittest, fit into a biblical and spiritual worldview?

The Great Dame of the Cathedral Choral Society

I’ve had a couple chances as of late to participate in Warrshington high suh-sci-uh-tay. The first opportunity came a week and a half ago when I visited the National Cathedral to hear a concert performed by the Choir of Westminster Cathedral, a world-renowned band of men and boys who sing sacred liturgical tunes. I often enjoy choral music as part my devotional life and also for casual listening, so I jumped at the chance to see the choir perform live. The afternoon performance was on a sunny day, but spending my time inside the great cathedral was well worth the sacrifice. The light streaming in through the magnificent stained glass windows of the national church managed to make the day seem even brighter indoors.

I came to the concert early with the intent of standing in line to buy same-day, student-priced tickets. For $15, I wanted to get a seat in the north transept and hear the choir performing from the left arm of the cross-shaped cathedral. Unfortunately, however, the ticket given to me was for a south transept seat. I asked if another seat might be available on the northern side, and the pleasant lady behind the desk asked me to wait a little while as she received ticket money from other concert-goers. I obliged and stood by patiently. After selling a few more tickets, the vendor offered me mid-knave seating about halfway back in the main part of the sanctuary. I asked again for a north transept seat, but the kind seller thought I was protesting my normally $45 mid-knave seat. I stood by and smiled at her as she offered me a spot in the front of the sanctuary among seats reserved for patrons of the cathedral at $65 a pop. Thus, as a student I was given a prime ticket to sit among the choral society’s elites.

I made my way up front with a glimmer of pride as surprised ushers were forced to allow me through to my prized throne. After having to move back and then forward again because of a mixed up seating arrangement, I met and began to speak with a longtime Episcopal supporter of the National Cathedral. She had grown up in DC, attended St. Alban’s parish next to the cathedral, and sent her children to the private Anglican school there. Now in her late 70s, she sat in the same seat that she had occupied for decades. The seat next to her own, which had once been filled by her deceased husband, now held her eldest and effeminate son.

Our conversation, strangely enough, focused on what most polite discourses do not: politics and religion. We spoke about the state of affairs within the Episcopal Church -- specifically on the ordaining of women and gay bishops. My elderly friend was thrilled with these new and progressive developments. It wasn’t too ago, after all, that she herself had been allowed to become a Eucharistic minister in serving the Lord’s Supper to parishioners. Although a cradle-to-grave Anglican, this great dame of the choral society was thrilled with her church’s liberality in its acceptance of both women and homosexuals. After hearing I was a Baptist, she spoke out and I consented to her rightly-assumed stereotype that I would disagree. Wanting to pick apart my beliefs, she questioned and criticized my understanding of the scripture’s disapproval of homosexuality and female church leaders. I smiled, not wanting to argue with the sophisticated intellectual of Episcopalianism, and passed off her probing with a quiet and gentle response about differing worldviews.

The choir’s performance and my interaction with the elderly dame gave me an afternoon of great satisfaction. I’m not sure if this satisfaction challenged me in faith or gave me a greater understanding of the Kingdom of God, but it did give me a window through which I could see the life of Washington’s Anglican elite.

Thoughts on the Kingdom

Theologians, for better or worse, ride around on bandwagons. Trends in ways of thinking about God ebb and flow depending on contemporary culture and philosophy. This has been true from the beginning of Christian faith, when the early Church Fathers sought to distinguish themselves from Jews, until today, when modern Christian academics seek to take up a relevant theological task in the post-modern world. From Augustinians to Thomists to Barthians and all the rest, patterns emerge in Christianity and believers tend to view their faith, whether consciously or not, according to these modes of thought.

A pattern I’ve noticed more recently in the teaching of my professors, books I’ve read, and conversations I’ve had with brothers and sisters in Christ is the focus on a “Kingdom” perspective. The imagery is based on a biblical and Christ-proclaimed idea -- an idea that is mentioned several dozen times in Matthew’s gospel alone.

I was thinking about the idea of the Kingdom of God this morning and it struck me as strange that such a concept would be popular in today’s theology, let alone the theology of any time period. A “kingdom” is necessarily associated with a monarchy, which tends to go against everything the Enlightenment, democracy, and equality stand for. Furthermore, kingdoms are associated with imperialism, colonialism, and oppression, which are bad things in any society.

In the Old Testament, the idea of a kingdom is a compromise that God makes with the Israelites. The people rebel against the judges’ authority, and God concedes to give them a monarch who will reign over them with a host of heavy burdens and obligations. “And in that day you will cry out because of your king… but the Lord will not answer you in that day” (1 Sam. 8:18). God goes so far as to say that by establishing an earthly kingship, Israel is rejecting Him as their ruler.

Sadly, the earthly kingdoms of the New Testament do not improve much on the idea of the Old Testament monarchy. By the time Christ arrives, the Hebrew kingdoms have been defeated and Roman imperial rule is the norm. The people must pay taxes to Caesar, support Roman troops, and give appropriate honor to the emperor where due. Roman imperialism at the local level is characterized by the megalomania of King Herod in the slaughter of the innocents at the birth of Christ and the injustice typified by Pontius Pilate in the governor’s condemnation of our savior at his death.

Since biblical times, kingdoms haven’t gained a better reputation. The Kingdom of Jerusalem – a government built with the blood of Muslims and Jews during the time of the Crusades – is just one example that comes to mind. Slavery, colonialism, and oppression are aspects of more recent Western kingdoms stemming from countries like Britain, France, and the Netherlands. The devastating effects of these former empires are still being felt in nations of poverty and authoritarianism around the world. In every earthly experience, it seems that “kingdom” has a dreadful connotation.

I wonder, though, if this isn’t exactly the point of Christ’s proclamation of the new Kingdom of God. In theology, there are generally two methods of trying to describe God. The first method is positive in nature – we say that God is omnipotent, God is omniscient, and God is good, for example. The second method, though, is negative – that is, we say what God is not. God is not ignorant, God is not evil, and God is not a created being. In a similar way, our understanding of earthly kingdoms and the evil they often embody might be for us a way of knowing that God’s Kingdom will be much different. While we see injustice taking place in this world, we can be assured that there will no so such trouble when God’s reign is fully realized. While we know that man-led authorities are corrupt and dark, we can trust that the God-led Kingdom is pure and light. Thus, our experiences of kingdom in a fallen humanity point us to the ideal promise of Kingdom in the presence of God.

As believers who live in a time when the idea of monarchy and imperial authority is vastly unpopular, we can have faith that the idea of God’s own Kingdom reign is much different from our human perceptions of government institutions. What a privilege we have to know and to hope that the kingdom of the world will eventually and fully become the Kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and that he shall reign forever and ever. Thus, we can gladly claim a divine ruler over our lives and unashamedly pray “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

An Essay for an Honors Society Application, #1

Please choose a person or an event within the Georgetown community that has had a significant impact on you. Specifically, how has this person or event influenced your views on and involvement in community service.

Much of my time at Georgetown is spent with Matt, my roommate and friend. He is the first person I see in the morning, the last one I see at night, and the fellow who knows me best. Our friendship means much to me. When it seems like the world is closing in on me, he offers a view of hope. When I am excited about new opportunities, he stands beside me and shares a smile. When I have questions about life, he gives me a patient answer. Of all my relationships at Georgetown, my connection with Matt has proven to be the strongest.
Matt’s example of service has spoken volumes to me about reaching out to others. Like me, Matt became involved in HOPE freshman year. We participated in Friday Food, a project allowing Hoyas to hand out sandwiches to the homeless. I had the chance to volunteer alongside Matt, and we both found the experience rewarding. For the first time, we saw the homeless as real people with real needs.
Sophomore year, Matt tired of his service in HOPE. While he saw the benefits of homeless outreach, he also found the weekly event too-quickly fleeting and found a desire to invest himself even more deeply in the lives of the homeless. Borrowing stoves from Outdoor Ed and picking up donated food from a grocery store, Matt took to the streets and cooked warm meals for those who lived there. He invited the homeless to join him in meal preparation on the corner of Wisconsin and M, publicly identifying with those he served. Matt turned this activity into a new weekly event – an event I was privileged to take part in several times.
This year, Matt is going further still to find out homeless needs. I have woken up several mornings to find Matt’s bed empty, only to learn later that he spent the night under the stars and on the streets. He is constantly finding radical ways to serve others and, along the way, is challenging me to do the same.

VA Weekend

Last weekend I had the chance to visit Lynchburg, Virginia with my aunts, Uncle Mike, a couple cousins, and Joey. Aunt Sandy and Aunt Doris, along with Joey and Kata, picked me up Friday afternoon for the trip to south-western Virginia. Our purpose was to visit another cousin, Eric, at Liberty University and then go to the Shenandoah National Park for a church service on the Skyline Drive.

Friday and Saturday the weather was dreary. The fall lived up to its name, with plenty of rain falling from the sky both days. Despite the weather, it was sweet to be with family. Saturday morning we visited Liberty University, where my cousin showed us his dorm (only the guys were allowed inside- the aunts had to peek in from the window). We got a grand tour of the Rev. Falwell’s Christian community in the mountains, along with a look at a museum dedicated to his life, ministry, and politics in one of the campus buildings. Saturday night found us celebrating Joey’s birthday with some tasty Mexican food and a swim in the pool followed by a stint in the sauna and some birthday cake.

Sunday, we left very early for the Skyline Drive. The morning service is organized by the Richmond and Upper Marlboro Apostolic Christian Churches and gives opportunity for ACers from around the U.S. to come and see the spectacular beauty of the Virginia hills. Although I’ve been in DC for three years, this was my first Skyline Drive experience. My expectations were high for the event, though, because my dad had often described his own visits to the mountains decades ago. I can’t say that I was disappointed at all. The leaves up in the hills were brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow. The vastness of the mountains made me feel very small – certainly a good thing for a fellow with such a big head as I. The drive reminded me of my travels in the Middle East just a few months ago, where the mountains of Judea and Jordan broke up the landscape. It was a privilege to see the same type of rocky beauty in my own American backyard.

The weekend was such a nice time. I lived like a king, being taken out to eat three times a day and being housed at the nicest hotel in Lynchburg. The long hours spent with my family was the most rewarding aspect of the weekend, though, and the time with everyone will do much to tie me over until I go home for Thanksgiving.

In other news, the largest crush of my high school and college years got engaged recently -- to another fellow. I’m happy for the couple, but it’s bittersweet for me. I know that there are other fish in the ocean, but I feel like the ocean is getting smaller day by day. Looking over some emails I wrote to this recently-engaged friend when there was still a prospect for romance between us, I’m forced to eat – with a smile – the words I spoke. “You're a special lady, and deserve the best, no matter where I am at or what our relationship is.” Now I’ve got to mean it.

Quick Thoughts

I realized yesterday how lucky I am to be here at Georgetown. Before one of my classes began, two fellow students were discussing Russian politics. They compared a falling-out between current Russian President Vladimir Putin and a former political ally to the falling-out between Stalin and Trotsky. They thought the comparison was hilarious, and I had to smile at the fact that we all understood the joke.

Later in the class, we were asked who had visited the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey. Several classmates had, and several others were later talking about their experiences in the Holy Land. This university has an amazing group of students and faculty with immense international experience, and I'm really priveleged to be here.

I do Hebrew homework at my work-study job in the government department. So many people come up to me and talk in Hebrew, and so many others share with me their own experiences in Israel. As my Israeli professor, Yossi Shain, would say, "Golly Gee."

A close friend of mine is "coming out" to his parents. No, he's not gay, but he has heard God's call to full-time ministry. Since he's Catholic, this means he'll become an ordained priest and live a celibate life. The Church will be his spiritual family, and he'll devote his life in service to others and the Gospel. Him and his parents could both use our prayers now- they're in for quite a surprise, and my roomate isn't expecting the experience to be pleasant.

An Evangelical's Confessions

I used to more Protestant, more Evangelical, even more Baptist. My second year at Georgetown I took a class on the Protestant Reformation, an eye-opening and thought-anchoring study on the background of my faith. The coursework came after a freshman year of spiritual dialogue and friendships with everyone from papist Catholics to un-orthodox Protestants. In my sophomoric studies, though, I saw more than ever the differences between the denominations and the theological particularities that set each apart from the others. I was proud and unique to be a conservative believer with Anabaptist roots at a liberal Catholic (and Jesuit, at that!) university.

Today, I’m in a different place. I’m not sure if this place is better or worse than where I was at a couple years ago, but it is very different. This fact came to light recently when I was chatting with my roommate, a stalwart Catholic who is willing to partner in the Gospel and dialogue on matters of faith with Protestants like me. He shared how, in his own witness and outreach, it’s important for him to bring non-believers to a point where they accept Christ as Savior and declare Jesus as Lord of their lives. After that, he said, their relationship with God can be primarily grown through the work of the Holy Spirit and their spiritual lives can be crafted by a loving Creator. Of far-less and secondary importance, he said, is his desire that they get plugged into a specifically Catholic church. I agreed with him in my desire to bring people to Christ and not to a specific denomination or particular creed. All Matt and I want to know and to make known is “Christ, and him crucified.”

This view is far different from the perspective of Mike, an acquaintance of mine and friend of Matt’s, whose passion for the Catholic Church may be just as strong as his passion for the Gospel. He sees Roman Catholicism as the earthly institution where God works to suit-up Christian believers for service in the Kingdom of Heaven. Mike’s commitment to the Roman Church is evidenced by his desire to reach out even to Protestants in an effort to bring them into the fold that he loves so much. He sees the Roman Catholic rite as having the most complete expression of Christian faith and the greatest amount of revealed truth to be found anywhere. Since he believes in the Catholic Church so fervently, it is his joy and privilege to share his Catholic faith with everyone he knows. He is unafraid of difficult doctrines, never shies away from condemning wrong teaching, and spends much of his time delving into the theological treasures of his tradition.

I don’t share this same passion for my conservative Evangelical brand of Christian faith. While I invite people to come to church with me, I never say that it is the Church or holds the unique set of keys to unlock God’s fullest revelation. I don’t consider Luther’s Reformation to be a hugely important development in the expression of Christian faith, nor do I consider Froehlich’s split from the Swiss national church essential for a complete understanding of Christ. I don’t idolize Dobson, Falwell, or even Piper, and I look down on people who give undue weight to the words of Wesley or Winthrop. I think I may be deficient in my devotion to American evangelicalism. I’m a bad Baptist. I was actually excited when I got see the welcoming of a baby into Christian community at a Catholic Church. I’m a sorry situation when it comes to believing the symbolic nature of the Lord’s Supper. I believe the ordinance is so much more than a symbol, and I’ve been looking for a better understanding of Christ's real presence in the Eucharist. I find value in the diverse expression of Christianity across denominations and traditions, with Christ the unmovable center of the Faith. This, I trust, is the true Church, “and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Still, I question sometimes what I believe and why I believe it. Along with a sense of ecumenicalism comes a deep questioning of what is essential for Christian faith. I hold to the authority of scripture, the creeds, and the testimony of what Christ has done in my own life, among other things, but I am very reluctant to commit myself to the specific doctrines of denominations. I feel at times like I am “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine,” and wish I had Mike’s doctrinal stability. Perhaps, once I graduate and get a little more settled in life, this questioning will come to an end. Until then, though, I’m doing what I can to incorporate the best of Christian diversity and apply it to the work of faith that God is building in my life.