Islands of Well Being

Ecclesiastes Chapter Three

Again, I said in my heart with regard to human beings that God is testing them to show that they are but animals. For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals; for all is fleeting. All end up in the same place; all are from the dust, and to dust all return. Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth?

                So I saw that there is nothing better than that all should enjoy their work, for that is their lot; who can bring them to see what will be after them?  It is God's gift to us that we should eat and drink and take pleasure in all our toil. (Ecclesiastes 3:13,18-22)

Last night, at “Dinner and a Question” held in Inklings Coffee & Tea, we concluded our discussions on Ecclesiastes chapter three. Good chance the top part of chapter three is familiar: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die…” (3:1-2). It was a hit tune when I was Abby’s age. It’s the bottom part of chapter three that comes as a surprise: “God is testing us to show that we are but animals” (3:16). How odd is that? Can that be true?

That’s the thing about Ecclesiastes, even when we don’t think it should be true, there is still something truthful about it. It’s true we are creatures—animals. We eat, excrete and procreate like all animals do. Yet, we don’t do it just like. We do it different. We do it with an inexplicable self-awareness.  “God is testing us to show that we are animals” (3:18). It’s a test? But a test for what? Maybe it’s to see if we still believe even though we are but creatures?

Can it also be true that we share the same fate? "For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. …All end up in the same place; all are from the dust, and to dust all return.” That’s true too, isn’t it? But what about the “Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth?” (Ecc 3:19-21)  Can that be true? The wisest of all mortals often uses the phrase, “Who knows”.  Solomon knows the limits of wisdom. Exactly what happens after death is something wisdom of itself does not know. It wonders about it. But it can’t, of itself, get us there.

“By faith we know” such things (Hb 11:2). The word “faith” never appears in Biblical Wisdom: Proverbs, Job, Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs. Surprising, isn’t it?  Wisdom simply describes the world as it is seen and experienced. Whereas “faith is the conviction of things not seen” (Hb 11:11). We need something bigger than Solomon to get us to the resurrection at the last trumpet sound.

Meanwhile, as always in his musings, Solomon finds an island of well-being for us: “It is God's gift to us that we should eat and drink and take pleasure in all our toil” (Ecc 3:13). That’s why we eat different from the animals. We say Grace at meals. Animals don’t. When we receive food and drink as a gift from God, we can’t help but imagine that great feast that awaits us in Glory.

“Shangri-La” #3 of 3: Moderation and Zeal

Lost Horizon by James Hilton, 1933

For the High Lama, “moderation” is the key to Shangri-La’s serenity: “It is our custom at Shangri-La to be moderately truthful” (chp. 10). If we were altogether truthful, the utopian tranquility of Shangri-La would come unraveled.  It’s an interesting thought, isn’t it? Does truth need to be moderated?

Moderation and self-control are the great virtues of the Greeks; and, for Hilton’s story, virtues of Eastern thought that moderates Christian zeal. Are we Christian too zealous and in need of moderation? That is the rap on us, isn’t it? Why can’t we be more tolerant of other religions and other points of view? Do we have to be so one-wayish?

The Bible does affirm moderation and self-control…

            -in eating:        “eat only enough for you, lest you be sated…” (Pr 5:16)

            -in drinking:    “Wine drunk at the proper time and in moderation…” (Sir 31:28, Ps 104:15)

            -in wealth:       “Give me neither poverty nor riches… (Pr 30:9)

            -in conduct:     “Be self-controlled and alert…” (1Pt 5:8)

Yet, there’s nothing moderate about the Gospel: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this” (Isa 9:7). Out of the depth of God’s zeal he sticks with his creation—his creatures: “God who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us…” (Ro 8:32). It’s not so easy to redeem and restore—to get us past that cherubim with the flaming sword. There’s nothing moderate about the way of the Cross: “Christ crucified is a stumbling block to the Jews and folly to the Gentiles” (1Cor 1:23). That’s why the Bible refers to the Cross as simply “His passion”; or, as we say, “The Passion”. There’s nothing moderate about such passion. It’s wild and free and passionate—even offensive. If we remove the offense of the Cross, we lose the Gospel.

And yet, we are not to be offensive: “Give no offense in anything” (2Cor 6:3). Allow the Cross its own peculiar offense. When we get over zealous, bad things happen. As when the Apostle persecuted the church “out of zeal for God” (Ac 22:3-4 & Phil 3:6). That’s not good. It’s too easy for us to become zealous about our own Cause, or political point of view, or even our theological take. Let’s be zealous about the Gospel, and moderate our own thoughts about this or that. “For now,” as the Apostle reveals to us, “we know only in part…” (1Cor 13).

Meanwhile, “Let your moderation be known to all. The Lord is at hand” (Phil 4:5).

“Shangri-La” #2 of 3: Beauty and Culture

Lost Horizon by James Hilton, 1933

The isolated monastery of Shangri-La has a greater purpose than paradisiacal living. The High Lama explains:

It is the entire meaning and purpose of Shangri-La. …I foresaw a time when man exalting in the technique of murder, would rage so hotly over the world, that every book, every treasure would be doomed to destruction. This vision was so vivid and so moving that I determined to gather together all things of beauty and culture that I could and preserve them here against the doom toward which the world is rushing” (chp. 10).

Though isolated from the big world, Shangri-La is not ignorant of the outside world. The High Lama is deeply aware of the looming horrors of yet another world war that will end up destroying “all things of beauty and culture.” It is the monastery’s purpose to preserve “all things of beauty and culture” in hopes of “a new Renaissance”. Just as the monasteries of the Dark Ages served as “flickering lanterns” preserving the beauty and culture of the ancient world for Renaissance.

What threatens “beauty and culture” today? Is it yet another world war? Maybe not. That’s the good thing about the bad thing of atomic warfare—it makes all-out war unthinkable. At least so far. We live in a time of little wars; or, as Jesus says, “Wars and rumors of wars”.

Maybe Western culture today is threaten by the very institutions that were formed to preserve our “beauty and culture”. It seems our Western Canon (think “Great Books”) is being dismissed by our universities as the work of “dead white men”. You were blessed to attend Christian colleges which today, like those monasteries of old, preserve “beauty and culture”.

As for those “Great Books”; within a year of our marriage, when we were poor, we purchased all 54 volumes of the Great Books of the Western World. I’ve read so little of them one might conclude the whole set was a waste of money. Maybe so. I have read much of Milton and Melville and Augustine. That’s worth the price.

Today, the books are housed in a classic antique book case that fits nicely into our entry way. That too is of value. Like a stele reminding us that there is this Great Tradition worthy of honor, care and preservation. Jesus says a good teacher is one who “brings out of his treasure what is old and what is new” (Mt 13:52).

“Shangri-La” #1 of 3: By Surprise

Lost Horizon by James Hilton, 1933

“Shangri-La”, I had some vague idea—maybe some exotic paradise somewhere. A few mornings ago, by the fire pit, while reading into the second chapter, there it was: “Shangri-La, he called it. La is Tibetan for mountain pass. He was most emphatic that we should go there.” 

It’s a story told by James Hilton in his 1933 novel Lost Horizon. I found myself reading it because during all our family comings and goings, during one of our scattered conversations, Steve dug out an old beat up book and encourage me to give it a read: “It’s short”, he said. It’s true, but I’m a slow reader.  Steve dug it out because we were discussing how that “modern science’s big history of everything” book ends with a not so scientific utopian vision. Where do such utopian dreams come from?

That’s what prompted Steve to leave the conversation and return with his beat up old book. I figured it had something to do with utopian dreams, but the word “Shangri-La” was never mentioned, nor is it in the title of the book. So it was that it came as a surprise at the end of the second chapter. And from there, the mystery and wonder of Shangri-La percolates through every chapter and every page. And now, after the read, Shangri-La has found a place in me. I will never see or hear the word again without the whole story tumbling through my mind.

A single word parlays into a bigger story. That’s how the Bible works. A single word… let’s pick a word, say “virgin”.  Can we hear the word without thinking of “The Virgin”? And then something of the whole big story flows through us. Or, in this case, a new word like “Shangri-La” finds its way back into our big Bible story. It has to do with The Garden, and how we got kicked out and how we somehow have a memory of it that gives us all our ideas about justice and righteousness because now we know good and evil and we know that things are not right and that justice eludes us.

Our big Gospel Story frees us for the wonders of all stories. At the end of one of his essays, Lewis sums it up like this: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen not only because I see it but because by it I see everything else.”  For us, Christ opens up lost horizons.

Job’s Loss:

There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil. There were born to him seven sons and three daughters. He had seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred donkeys, and very many servants; so that this man was the greatest of all the people of the east. His sons used to go and hold feasts in one another's houses in turn; and they would send and invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them. And when the feast days had run their course, Job would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings for each of his children, to sanctify them, thinking, “Maybe one of them have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” That is what Job always did. (Jb 1:1-5)

I’m not thinking of “blameless and upright”, nor the “three thousand camels”; but rather, all those feasts, barbecues, parties that Job enjoyed, or mostly enjoyed, gathered, from time to time,  at each one of his children’s homes. I thought of it last night. It was towards the end of the barbecue, while darkness began to set in, at one our children’s homes. I was ready to go. The last few weeks, with our children and children’s children coming home for a few days or weeks as schedules allowed, had warn me out. I was partied out and ready to go home and go to bed. But Linda wanted to stay, “Can’t we stay awhile longer, I love this.” It’s the “I love this”, that caused me to think of Job, and Job’s loss.

“When the feast days had run their course, Job would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings for each of his children, to sanctify them, thinking, ‘Maybe one of them have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’ That is what Job always did” (Jb 1:5). You can’t have that much partying without the need for some cleansing, sanctifying―some atonement, some forgiveness. So, after all the feasting, Job would offer atoning sacrifices. Even though, we did some hefty partying; and, even though there may have been some crossing the line—something said that shouldn’t have been said, some hurt, some offence; nevertheless, sacrifice has been made. We’re okay.  Our sin has been dealt with and forgiven.

I suppose if the sin could not be forgiven, the feasting would come to an end—too much pain, too much offense, too much hurt. We would eventually drift off into our own little self-righteous cocoons and sulk away. But sacrifice has been made. We are free for the next round of feasting.

That’s Job’s big gain—the joy of feasting with his children and his children’s children. So too, it will be his greatest loss. I thought of that because one of our children missed the party because she was on the road that night visiting aunt and old friends. When we came home, she was not there. Where is she? It took us back to old days when she was a teenager and we spent our share of sleepless nights at the kitchen window looking up the dark street hoping maybe the next headlights were hers. Why do we still worry? I suppose, it’s because, like Job of old, to lose our children would be our greatest loss.

Thoughts on C. S. Lewis’ Poem:  “An Apologist’s Evening Prayer”.

From all my lame defeats and oh! Much more

From all the victories that I seem to score;

From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf

At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;

From all my proofs of Thy divinity,

Thou, who wouldst give no sign, deliver me.

Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust, instead

Of Thee, their thin-worn image of Thy head.

From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,

O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.

Lord of the narrow gate and the needle’s eye,

Take from me all my trumpery lest I die. (Poems, p. 143)

Lewis knows the dangers of apologetics. That’s what makes him such a good apologist. The poem, like all good poems, is best left to itself. Nevertheless, I’ll venture a few comments:

           

1) Danger of In House Apologetics: “While angels weep” and “the audience laugh”. It’s easy to do apologetics to those who already believe—they think you’re brilliant, they laugh. Yet “angels weep”.

           

2) Danger of Proofs: “From all my proofs of Thy divinity… deliver me.” Why do we need God’s deliverance from all our “proofs of…divinity”?  I think it has to do with that second stanza: “Thoughts are but coins”. Our arguments are not the real thing. They are but the “thin-worn image.” We prayer for God to set free even from our own “thoughts of Thee”; as if our thoughts, or arguments, or proofs were what’s at stake. Maybe that’s why Lewis stays away from “proofs” and chooses instead to use the word “clues”. There are all sorts of clues to “Thy divinity”.

3) Danger of Heroics: “Take from me all my trumpery lest I die.”  “Trumpery”, great word, except we can’t see a trump word without thinking of our president. Maybe we could try “bombast” or “pomposity” or “bravado”. The kind of thing that causes “audiences to laugh” while “angels weep”.  So we pray, “Take from me all this pretense…”

A.W. Tozer puts it something like this: “If anyone can argue you into the Kingdom of God, someone can come along and argue you out of the Kingdom of God.” Our faith, though we do well to defend it, comes from a deeper place. As the old hymn goes:

            My faith has found a resting place,

                Not in device or creed;

                I trust the every living One,

                His wounds for me shall plead.

                I need no other argument,

                I need no other plea,

                It is enough that Jesus died,

                And that he died for me. (Eliza Hewitt, 1891)

Like all hymns, we could fuss with it here and there. But the jest is good: Faith, to be faith, has to find its resting place. It may be no better than Peter’s confession when our Lord asked him “Do you wish to leave me?” Peter said, “Lord, where else can we go? You have the words of eternal life”. That’s a good confession. Where else are we going to go?

Thoughts on Christian Apologetics:

Do not fear, and do not be intimidated,

        but in your hearts reverence Christ as Lord.

Always be ready to make your defense (apologia)

        to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you;

        yet do it with gentleness and reverence. (1Pt 3:15-16)

I didn’t mean to get all tangled up with David Christian’s (what a bible name) Origin Story: A Big History of Everything. It’s not my way. I just found myself there. Which leads me to give a brief apologetic for my apologetics. It comes from First Peter 3:15-16 above.

You see our Greek N.T. word apologia from which we get our word “apologetics”. That prefix apo appears in all sorts of our English words—like “apogee”, for example. “Apogee” is that point in a rocket shot that is furthest from the earth. It has the sense of “away from”. So, an apologetic is a word (logia) or a reason that we launch “away from” us who already believe to those who question the validity of our faith; or, as Peter puts it, “our hope”.

Notice what the Bible puts in front of our apologetics and behind our apologetics: 1) in front: “Do not fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts reverence Christ as Lord.”  And 2) behind: “Do it with gentleness and reverence.”  And, 3) in the middle: “Be ready to give and answer (apologia) to anyone who ask of you a reason for the hope that is in you.”

Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s hard to beat the Bible. Let me do some one, two, threes:

      1.  Hope Filled Communities: It assumes folks outside of our faith are interested in “the hope” that is in us. Apologetics requires a community of noticeable hope. Without it, we have no place from which to launch our defense. Without such noticeable hope nobody cares. Nobody is inquiring and nobody is listening. But where such communities of hope exist, folks can’t help but wonder about the wonder of our hope.

      2.  Thoughtful Response: It requires of us who believe to respond thoughtfully. That means we are thoughtful of the thoughts of those who inquire about our hope. It’s never wrote, or contrived, or canned. It’s our own thoughtful response to a thoughtful question.

      3.  Gentleness and Respect: We give our response to those who ask about the hope that is within us, because we are not fearful or intimidated. We simply “reverence Christ”. We are not defending our particular argument. We are reverencing Christ. Christ frees us to be respectful and gracious to all who enquire about the hope that is in us.

The Apostle sums it up nicely: “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (Col 4:5-6).

Origin Story #5 of 5

Final Thoughts on David Christian’s Origin Story: A Big History of Everything

Like it or not,

        We are now managing an entire biosphere,

        And we can do it well or badly

Our task,

        Is to avoid the crash and get to a good place

        For both humans and the biosphere. (Origin Story, pp 289-90)

In accordance with God’s promise,

        We wait for new heavens and a new earth

        Where righteousness dwells.

So let us grow in the grace and knowledge

        Of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

        To whom be the glory both now and forever Amen. (2Pt 3)

“Modern science,” Christian writes in his final chapters, “captures the universe’s terrifying indifference… But we humans …have goals, and we set out on long journeys to achieve those goals, despite the indifference of the universe.” Despite the “indifference of the universe,” the author now makes his plea for us humans, at this pivotal moment, to save planet Earth by changing our ways and forming a “Utopian world”—a new Garden of Eden.

We have entered a period of “Great Acceleration” which is pushing Earth to the “tipping point”.  Fossil-fuel technologies pumps carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the Earth’s atmosphere leading to global warming and putting the biosphere at risk. This is all our own doing. And now, it is up to us to turn things around and save our planet. This is our quest.

Christian believes the United Nations document “Transforming Our World” (2015) points the way to salvation. And, The Paris Accord on Climate Change (adopted 2015) builds on this saving word. Christian urges us to place our hope in science and politics to get us to a new, healthy and sustainable world. It’s a grand vision.

Yet science, mixed with Utopian dreams, has not done well by humanity. Lewis, in his epic poem Dymer, tells a story about a city “which men called in scorn ‘The Perfect City’”. They built the perfect city according to “the master’s dream… and they laid the strong foundations, torturing into stone each bubble that the Academy had blown” (Canto I). In the early twentieth century, when Lewis wrote Dymer, he had Plato’s Republic in mind. Who could have guessed what the remainder of the twentieth century would bring with the utopian dreams of Communism and Nazism. Do we really want a world in which science alone defines our lives and tells us how to live?

I can’t imagine life without that other story about “God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth”. It’s a big wild sprawling story from Abraham to David to Jesus. I don’t mind “modern science’s origin story”; I just don’t want it to be the only story. When it’s the only story, bad things happen. It makes, like most modern stories, too big a claim: To be “a big history of everything”—of everything? I think there’s something more—something bigger than Big History.

I noticed Big History (modern scientific godless and spiritless history) has developed into a big cause. It has its own institution: “The International Big History Association”. With big funding they are presently developing Big History curriculum for our grade schools.

I enjoy science’s Origin Story. It’s breathtaking. What a story, with that hot, dense, smaller than an atom thing that explodes and continues its expansion to this day. Science tells us creation is bigger and more real than we could ever imagine. I like all that. It’s only when we get to the last two chapters of Origin Story that we realize the author’s cause is something other than science—a redemptive, salvatory cause. Such crusades make me nervous.

I fear, this godless and spiritless origin story will be the only one taught—our official state religion. Aren’t there other truths besides scientific observations? Truths like “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all people are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Science didn’t give us that truth. It’s not the kind of truth science comes up with. It comes from somewhere else. According to our Declaration of Independence, it comes from our Creator.

Why can’t we honor both stories? Allow them to be what they are. Let’s give our origin stories the freedom to be told, heard and believed. Let them dance about. As the Bible likes to say, “Who know?” I have confidence that our “In the beginning God…” story will hold its own. The Gospel of our Suffering Savior has its own way of cutting to the truth of things.

Origin Story #4 of 5

Thoughts on David Christian’s Origin Story: A Big History of Everything

Census were vital;

        the chief collector of revenue

        was to record the total number of villages

And classify them by their wealth,

        and the amount of grain, animals, money and labor they supplied,

        as well as the number of soldiers. (Origin Story, p. 224)

King David said to Joab and the army commanders with him,

"Go throughout the tribes of Israel from Dan to Beersheba

and enroll the fighting men, so that I may know how many there are."
David was conscience-stricken after he had taken the census, and he said to the LORD,

“Now, O LORD, I beg you, take away the guilt of your servant.

        For I have done a very foolish thing" (1Chron 21).

Both origin stories, the one without god and the one with God, keep dancing about with one another. Both tell of light exploding into the darkness, both speak about forming order out of chaos, both affirm that humans are a peculiar species, both tell of a Garden of Eden, both tell of how paradise has been lost, both tell how the earth has settled down allowing for “seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter” (Gn 8-9), both tell how this settled climate has led to the toils of farming, both tell how language and knowledge and farming leads to “cities and towers” with oppressive hierarchies seeking “to make a name for themselves” (Gn 11), and both will end with some hope of redemption (I’ll save that redemptive part for one last Origin Story post. My children are getting tired of all this.).

Modern science’s story of “the big history of everything,” tells how humans formed “mega-empires” that now threaten our planet. How did that happen? It has to do with our present long Goldilocks era from the last Ice Age to the present. When the ice melted and the oceans filled, about 10,000 years ago, warmer climates settle in bringing “exceptional climatic stability.” In the early years of our Goldilocks era, “Gardens of Eden” formed in “the Fertile Crescent, on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean.” In these “Gardens of Eden” life was good as folks lived off simple gardens, fruit trees and some foraging. It was “ecological paradise”.  But then something bad happens. Paradise is lost with the appearance of farming with all its toil: “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food” (Gn 3).

Language, intelligence and big farming resulted in big cities and mega-empires: Egypt (always Egypt), Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, Rome, Europe and the West. Through census taking empires raise armies and revenue, and kept their subjects in their proper place according castes, linage, and social status. “The increase of the fields are taken by the king” (Ecc 5:8). It’s what kings do. It’s Big History’s “Threshold #7”: the transition from foraging to the cultivation of vast agricultural wealth and the empires that control such assists. The disruptive nature of census taking serves as a public demonstration of the wealth and power of kings and their kingdoms.

This power and intimidation of census taking leads us to yet another dance between these two origin stories. During King David’s reign, when Israel for a few brief years stood toe to toe with the kings and kingdoms of this world, he ordered a census of all Israel. It’s just what kings do. However, “this command was evil in the sight of God.” Modern science’s origin story agrees. Big empires and big census are not good. Yet, unlike other kings, David repents: “I have sinned greatly by doing this” (1Chron 21).

Our Gospel Story begins with one of those census ordered by the Roman Emperor Augustus. About two thousand and some years ago, Caesar Augustus order a census of the “entire Roman world.” In order to get a good count and make sure everyone was in their proper place, Caesar “ordered everyone to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up to Bethlehem to register with Mary, who was expecting a child. While they were there, …she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn” (Lk 2). In the midst of Caesar’s power and intimidation, something different happened in an obscure little town on the eastern fringe of the Empire. Who could have guessed?

Origin Story #3 of 5

Thoughts on David Christian’s Origin Story: A Big History of Everything

What makes us different?

        Above all, human languages…

How and why our species acquired linguistic power…

        remains unclear (Origin Story, p. 173)

Out of the ground, the LORD God formed

        all the beasts of the field and

        all the birds of the air.

Then God looked on to see what Adam would name them;

        and whatever Adam called each living creature,

        that was its name. (Genesis 2:19)

Threshold #6 is about us. What makes us different? “Chimps and humans,” science informs us, “share well over 96 percent of their genomes” (p. 151). He’s got a point. When you go to the zoo and look one of those chimps or apes or monkeys in the eye, you can’t help but notice similarities. We eat and excrete and procreate like all the other animals, only we do it different. Why this difference?

The difference is language. Other animals like baboons and Orcus whales can warn others in their group of approaching predators. Some researchers have even trained chimps to respond to some two hundred words. But only humans use immense vocabularies with grammar rules “that allow us to generate a huge variety of meanings…” Only humans tell stories. For Christian, the wonder of language brings his Origin Story to a new threshold where something new in the big history of everything, suddenly shows up. Like all his “Thresholds”, the how and why remains a mystery. How did language happen? Why did language happen?

“Language”… here our two stories, the one told by “modern science” alone—the one Christian tells without god or spirit, just “mechanisms”; and, the other story about how on the sixth day God decided to, along with all the other animals, create humans with something of the image of God in them. It’s this image of God that accounts for the mystery of language among other things. When we eat and excrete and procreate just like all the other animals, we do it different—we do it with self-awareness, and self-regard. We don’t do what animals do simply to survive. There’s more going on. We do it with an awareness of self—of personhood in us and in others. So we reflect, and care about how we do whatever we do. This mystery of how we reflect on our self—this wonder of human conscience has to do with the image of God. We not only have a brain, but we have a mind, a soul. That’s why we can somehow stand outside our self, and wonder about our self and the world and the universe where we find ourselves. That’s why humans alone write books like Origin Story.

This “image of God” in us equips us for our human task. God has deputized us alone to care for his creation and to give names to all the animals. God seems to delight in our abilities: “God looked on to see what Adam would name them; and whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name” (Gn 2:19). If we call monkeys, “monkeys”; that’s okay with God. He doesn’t second guess us. He just looks on and sees how we do. He takes the Image and our deputyship seriously. No pretending. We really do, out of our freedom, give names not only to all the animals, but to all manner of creation. Humans are incurable namers. We can’t help ourselves. It’s the Image of our Creator in us.

Origin Story #2 of 5

Thoughts on David Christian’s Origin Story: A Big History of Everything

Most versions of the modern origin story

      no longer accept the idea of a creator god

Because modern science

      can find no direct evidence for a god. (Origin Story, p. 25)

By faith we know

      that the world was created by the word of God,

so that what is seen

      was made out of things which do not appear. (Hb 11:3)

Our faith has always and will always live in a world with alternative stories. Faith wouldn’t be faith otherwise, would it? That’s how the Gospel of Matthew ends: “And, this story,” the alternative story about how Jesus’ tomb turned up empty, “is still told… to this day”. (Mt 28:15)

Let’s stick with David Christian’s alternative Origin Story for a while. Or, maybe his is the dominant story, and our Origin Story is the alternative. His story with no god “because modern science can find no direct evidence for a god.” (p. 25) Or, our story about how “In the beginning God” decided to call heaven and the earth into being. One believes that science alone dictates how things are. The other, acknowledges that “by faith we know that the world was created by the word of God.” (Hb 11:3) Does one story have to die that the other might live?

Christian’s Threshold number five brings us into our part of the scientific story. It’s the story of how life somehow took form on our planet: “The spooky thing about life is that, though the inside of each cell looks like pandemonium—a sort of mud-wrestling contest involving a million molecules—whole cells give the impression of acting with purpose. …The appearance (or, perhaps, illusion) of purposefulness is new.” (p. 76)  How life happened remains, for the scientific story, a mystery. The author uses words and phrases like “perhaps” or “maybe” or “seem to be”. That’s okay. It’s fair to imagine, as he does, that maybe meteorites seeded early Earth with many of the raw materials of life…” (p. 88) We couldn’t have science without imagination, could we?

When telling his origin story, these eight “thresholds” describe “key transition points” that “give shape to the complicated narrative of the modern origin story”. These eight threshold describe “major turning points, when already existing things were rearranged or otherwise altered to create something new…” (p. 11) It’s tempting, for those of us who believe that the universe was created “by the word of God”, to insert our God of Creation into Christian’s “thresholds”. I’m tempted to say, “See, that’s were God comes in”.  

However, that’s not how our God of Creation story goes. God doesn’t just show up now and then to help the universe traverse the tough thresholds. The first Christians sang hymns like this:

      All things have been created through Christ and for Christ.

            Christ himself is before all things,

            and in him all things hold together. (Col 1:16-17)

Somehow, our creation hymn frees me to hear Christian’s Origin Story with a certain wonder and delight. I don’t have to cram God into the story. He’s just there.