A crucial issue for the science-religion debate is the testimony of Scripture. The Bible seems to make certain claims that would, taken as they stand, be out of consonance with what we know about the actual processes of universal or natural history, even human history (at times even out of consonance with what we know, or at least like to think we know, about morality). Really this is a matter tied up in the culture wars of postmodernity. The secular world looks on the Scripture as something hopelessly outdated, or sadly naive, or savage and wicked; Christians are accused of blind allegiance to a book produced by a totally different culture in a totally different world. When the Bible is championed as a beacon of righteousness, or a standard to live by, a scornful agnostic or atheist may retaliate by bringing up the law condemning homosexuals or Paul's instruction for women to be quiet during church. It is true that there are many stories and injunctions in Scripture that can be embarrassing to our sensitive Western proprieties, whether for their seeming immorality or their fantastical claims. But it is my estimation that the problem lies in our failure to understand what makes the Bible actually "true" and thus relevant. I envision the "authority" of Scripture lying not so much in its propositions and edicts (so that it really becomes something so base as a rule-book or a "manual of instruction"), but more in its place within the faith tradition and its status as an instrument whereby believers are equipped to spread God's message throughout the world by actually immersing themselves within the story that the Word is telling.
It must be grasped that the Bible is a product of a long religious experience. The authors, certainly in touch with the divine reality, interpreted their unique encounters, or the encounters of their forerunners, within the context of their primitive understandings. To put it another way, the Bible is largely a record of how the Jewish nation wrestled with the new ideas that forced themselves onto that society as they developed a radical and unique attitude toward the world, history, and the gods. Even in the Christ event, the explanation of this wonderful occurrence (and, more importantly, this wonderful person) was not handed down from on high ready-packaged for dissemination amongst the masses, but rather had to be "built" as it were by deep reflection and the re-application of cultural imagery, terminology, and ideology. Thus from that angle what was going on was a very mundane sort of activity, feverish and fervent perhaps, but ultimately just another evolutionary cognitive exercise, not apparently any different from all the other intellectual struggles humanity has undergone throughout the millennia, as the human race brews up fresh thought-frameworks to accommodate its budding self-awareness. (Of course this naturalistic view assumes that all rational enterprise is completely explicable by appeal to materialism, thus robbing cultural, artistic, philosophic, literary and religious innovations of their mysterious beauty--not by any means the route I take in understanding humanity's creativity.)
For instance, the creation account could be seen as an outcome of the inspired community's attempts to make sense of the structure, and, more basically, the given fact, of the natural world, and to find some meaningful position within that vast cosmos for humans to reside in confidence. They used the language of myth, with all its supernaturalist exaggerations, to articulate their convictions of an orderly, God-given creation. It may even be that the whole idea of a purposeful creation and a personal God who calls out a group of people to carry forth the destiny of creation, was produced as a means of giving the ragtag nomadic tribe of Hebrews a sense of place and direction. (I doubt that they came up with such an idea out of the blue, though. While their dissatisfaction with being a people without a home and without a seeming destiny was probably a definite factor in the formation of the Genesis stories, I think the whole Israel epic is rooted in the spiritual experience of Abraham, a man who did have a home but felt compelled to leave it for another. So the later Hebrews looked back to Abraham as a man with a destiny, a man somehow "in touch" with a creator who cared so much for humans as to actually communicate with them, and used this to shape their worldview; and their original status as a wandering tribe, far from dampening the wild dream, fueled their yearning to further understand and make actual the reality which their ancestor had encountered, thus prompting them to tell stories of a world with purpose, and the special status of humanity within that world.) Whether they thought this to be an accurate account of how things actually happened or whether they used their language in a metaphorical sense, knowing that the actual events were beyond their reckoning, really doesn't matter. (The way I see it, there are three main ways to understand the author's(s') intentions here. One, he/they had in mind a literal seven days, plain as that. Two, the seven days refer to seven epochs of creation. Three, the seven days are not meant as periods of time at all, but are categories utilized to arrange all the components of the visible creation into a perfect hierarchy of sorts, with humanity as the crowning achievement, one level short of God himself. I tend toward the latter theory, but the first would be acceptable as well, especially if combined with the latter, so that the seven literal days for the author(s) hold special metaphysical significance. As for the second theory, I'm not sure the ancients would have thought in terms of "epochs" or geological ages. At any rate, it may be a happy stroke of luck, or the mysterious handiwork of God using human convention to express truth, that in a very broad sense the Genesis story can somewhat line up with what we know of the world. The order of creation seems to reflect the actual processes involved in the birth of a world and life within that world. Genesis holds that the first life originated in the sea. The "formation from dust" and the placing of the Man in Eden can be seen as reflecting the slow origins of humanity out of lower life-forms and the race's migration over millennia to the Middle East. It could even be suggested that this vague, mythic retelling of natural history arises from a dim recollection of the actual processes that has been ingrained with the collective human psyche, and "peeks out" from the subconscious in the guise of story; it may even be that the author(s), taking a wild shot at describing what they thought of as the origins of the world, by chance got it generally right, even though they may have thought they were talking about something more like a literal seven-day creation. This is all idle speculation, however. We cannot really know what the original author(s) believed about the relation of this particular story to the hard facts, and it is my belief that they did not write it to explain the physical development of creation or the length of time it took. If we can find parallels between their literary masterpiece and what we now know of geology and evolution, let us praise God for the mysterious unity of human insight into reality across time and cultures, but not jump the gun and decree that the Hebrews knew--in the sense of fully cognizant, objective epistemic certainty--their science as well as we do after all.) What gives the creation stories worth is their testimony to a world of purpose structured according to the holy designs of a transcendent creator. As the Scripture moves toward the decisive revelation in Jesus, the purely mythological dilutes through the dirt and grit of history to coalesce into a very specific flesh-and-blood episode. But still, even while we may like to think that the New Testament is more sensible than the Old, it retains much of the mythic overtones and utilizes language from the classical world to give form to its foundational allegiance to Christ. Thus the early church's eschatology was not so much granted by plainly spoken words from the Lord himself, but rather was worked out by debate and contemplation within the confines of the faith community, building upon the assurance of Christ's victory over evil and death. (That is why there is always room for growth in our interpretation of both halves of the Bible--granted a small set of unshakeable truths, we are to figure out what these things actually mean in practice and what they entail for our hope, how we engage with the world and look toward the future.)
We must use discernment to ascertain what parts of the Bible are intended as legitimate history or documentation of what we know as scientific facts (though it is my opinion that there is really little, if any, of the latter in Scripture), and which are intended for more "spiritual" usage. Were the original authors attempting careful historical documentation, or were they editing historical events to make a spiritual point, or were they fabricating entire stories to make a spiritual point? Which stories become meaningless if they are not strictly "literal" or at least based in very definite historical events? For that matter, which teachings of the Bible are timeless and which can we (I speak with great caution) set aside? Surely all pieces of Scripture are to be checked against the total canon. Furthermore, there is the tricky task of distinguishing between what the authors actually intended in their work and what we as the faith community are now supposed to take from that work for practical purposes, in accordance with the will of the Father. Beginning with the "assumption" that the Bible is a medium through which God communicates with humanity (this is not really something that can be proven, but something that has to be experienced through some kind of conversion experience), we must explore that Word with open hearts and open minds, entering into joint worship with the authors of the texts by "feeling out" what it is they were seeing or feeling and what they were understanding about it all, appreciating the insights offered, while prayerfully searching for the purposes of God behind the particular passages as we strive to comprehend "why this is in here in the first place"; and all in all, taking part in the narrative to which the whole collection of texts bears witness by letting that united testimony transform our lives around the central realization of the Lordship of Christ (the Bible is a prime example of the whole being far more than the sum of the parts).
It may be the case that some of what was written is even morally unsound--at least the motives behind what was written, the way it's framed and the ideological agenda behind it, so to speak--so that to take the teaching of a certain passage at face value could lead to a misunderstanding of what's going on in the author's scheme, and even be detrimental to one's genuine spiritual growth. But what really matters is how that part fits into the bigger picture, which of course is this panorama of a journey toward realization of who and what God really is, and who we are in relation to him; and what holds even those passages with which we today may not be able to agree intact with the larger teaching of Scripture is the fact of the writers' genuine desire to know the will of God and enact his rulings in their societies, so that their being morally mistaken in one or two instances does not negate the authority of the Word as a whole. If issues of spiritual truth can be so "relativized" but yet balanced by the objectivity of the entire construct, certainly then we can excuse factual fallacies, such as ignorance on the shape of the earth or the substance of the sky. Another aspect of my view of Biblical inspiration is that what are recorded as visionary experiences are not "direct" revelations to a prophet or mystic, but rather literary devices employed by the religious devout in his effort to profess the great burden he feels he must share with the world; and while I am not so sure that anyone has ever received such clear, cut-and-dry messages from God as it is expressed in literary form within the prophetic records, I do believe that the biblical authors were conveying truths "directly" from God, having this great weight of responsibility and special insight placed on their minds and hearts, so that while they may have not "known" that what they were saying was from God in the narrow sense of knowing our culture demands (I rather think they were convinced in another way, not based on sight, but based on love and faith), still their message was indeed what God would have his people hear, and it all contributes to the metanarrative of salvation history.
However, this allowance should not be used to simply explain away parts of the Bible that pose threats to our tastes and sensibilities or upset our notions of political correctness or even at first blush appear to contradict scientific or historical claims (the "factually faulty" portions are by and large, thankfully, not so important to the grand theological scheme with regard to their being literally accurate; rather their contribution serves in more nuanced fashion, such as to demonstrate how the inspired author made sense of history and nature with the underdeveloped empirical skills available, or, more likely, in the place they serve within the story at large in regard to development and progression). Especially we should exercise caution in how we approach the miracles of the New Testament, realizing that whereas many of the Old Testament histories were written long after the fact, the documentation of the Gospels and Acts is intended as a pretty straightforward historical report (with theological embellishments, naturally); and many of the miraculous elements are crucial to the message of the story in such a way that if they were simply exaggerations or fabrications, the story would lose its power and purpose. A work like Revelation, on the other hand, is a different beast altogether, and it intentionally uses the conventions of "myth and legend" to compose a fantasy-like account meant to express the author's vision of God's ultimate purposes. The Prophets of the Old Testament are another kind of challenge: they seem to have been written shortly after the careers of the respective prophets, and they document some pretty remarkable visions and phenomena. Are we to view these supernatural elements as mere literary devices? Or are they vague attempts to communicate a "transcendent experience" in the language available at the time?
Each book of the Bible is different in how it should be interpreted. Honest investigation, and an epistemology based in open dialogue with fellow believers and discourse with other disciplines, is vital in determining exactly how the various portions of the Bible are to be taken; and only after careful analyzation, meditation, and of course prayer should we pass a ruling on the implications and necessariness of taking a passage literally. It helps to recall that if the Bible were completely mistaken on the rudiments of natural processes and the actual conditions of the world we live in, we may be inclined to lend our allegiance to science (or some other secular order) after all. But the Bible is accurate enough in its general outlook toward the orderliness and beauty of the universe, and the place of humans within it, that we can be confident that where it comes into conflict with contemporary scientific advances, it should be realized that the Bible's purpose is not to explain the details of physical systems and that the passage in question does not damage the Bible's claim to offer a powerfully true framework for understanding the meaning of existence. Here's another way to put this: if the Bible were completely out of joint with what we know by pure observation, we would have no reason to listen to it; but the Bible is clear enough in its address to the real world in which we actually live, its general picture being consonant enough with what we know of life, and when we grasp what the Bible's picture is--to teach us our place and purpose in the world--we can "excuse" those instances where it falls short of scientific precision. All the same, much of the thrust of the Biblical message is its challenge, so it certainly should upset some of our preconceptions; but I'm not convinced that this applies to our understanding of how the world works physically. Rather I see the Word as functioning to in a real sense "threaten" us on the level of our assumptions about the metaphysical/value-based meaning behind the merely physical, and what we are called to do within the context of this very real, very structured, very precise world we find ourselves in. In any event, we must be careful in how much of the Biblical text we relegate to the limitations of perspective, and not be quick to dismiss a particular claim on the basis of modern prejudices.
I believe that God communicates through the Bible primarily by using the religious perspectives of many different persons to form a united voice, so that what appears to be a natural, unimpressive (or non-miraculous) process of cultural thought-development, easy enough to analyze with modern psychology, is actually God using human faculties to reveal himself. His working behind the scenes of the mundane, using the limitations of mortal comprehension and language to make himself known, is simply further evidence of the loving kind of deity he is--one who allows his creatures to explore reality for themselves, allows them a measure of independence in their quest for truth, all the while drawing them on mysteriously by gradual revelation. How we know that it is God speaking is by the uniformity of the whole tradition present in the Bible, and by actually living out the story of the Bible in our own lives to witness its transforming power (and furthermore by the radiant witness of the church in its worldwide mission, though whether you actually see Christianity's progress and effects among the nations as substantial probably depends on whether or not you're willing to be convinced of its validity in the first place). What really matters is not so much the details of the tale but the overarching "thrust", this foundational idea of a personal God who loves his creation and calls humans into relationship with him and to look after his creation, of a God who actually stoops to the level of his creatures and teaches them how to live and gives them strength to realize his plans in the present. I'm going to have my cake and eat it too by claiming that certain key events certainly stand out as being indispensable, such as the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and the "broad strokes" of the history of Israel from a nation of more-or-less rejects and slaves to a nation of great unity and vision.
It could be easily accused that I'm playing fast and loose with both sides here, simply picking and choosing within Scripture what should be held onto as "literal" and what should be understood either as mistaken or as being not originally intended in a literal sense based on the strict demands of academia; by this patchwork method of interpretation I can hold on to my infantile faith and still attempt to smooth over the accusations brought against my holy book by the surrounding secular culture. Fellow Christians could say I'm copping out, or selling out, trying to make everyone happy or allowing the poisonous teachings of atheism to cloud my view of the great truths of God. But I will plead guilty to neither charge. For one thing, I still hold the Bible as a supreme authority, and I still hold that God is calling the world at large to repent and believe the gospel. I am not backing down on my conviction in the hard-hitting impact of Scripture, and I am certainly not catering to political correctness or relativism. But I am, in truth, attempting to be honest to two legitimate fields: science and theology. The former has more than proven itself competent in telling us about the way the universe operates. The latter has more than proven itself competent (to believers anyway) in explaining the very real sense of the divine nature so many people share. The voice of religion is too strong to ignore, and the beautiful logic of the Christian message specifically is so overwhelming that I cannot dismiss the church's traditions as idle superstition. So I begin with this solid (by no means doubt-free) trust in Christianity's claims. This entails belief in the Scriptures as being divinely wrought and thus providing the clearest tangible pointer we possess to the purposes of the creator for his creation. But my reason dictates that I also take seriously the conclusions of science, for its objective findings and overwhelming reliability in the practical vein of technology testify to its veracity. (I could also lump with science the field of history. There is one little detail these categories leave out: morality. What am I trying to be honest to when I say that some things in the Bible are specific to that time and not to be taken at face value today? I would probably say, in general, our contemporary comprehension of ethics and the human consciousness. Science, I suppose, could be brought into the picture,because it has "proven" how through evolution humans develop clearer insight into reality. Then there are the anthropological/psychologi
So my mind and my heart go in apparently separate directions, both having been proven through life experience to be equally valuable in determining truth...so if I am to be consistent in my convictions I must explore the mysteries of how the two spectrums can coexist. This essay is one example of how I try and reconcile intellect (empirically-based belief) with faith (spiritual belief). But the extremists on both sides (and it's not just science on the other side, but the entire spectrum of critical, modern/postmodern rationality) will always accuse me of straddling the fence and of being completely confused and probably arrogant. I will respond that I think they're just not letting themselves look deep enough into the real fabric of reality. I suspect that both sides are equally, and simply, unwilling to put forth some mental effort to really think how the secular and religious, natural and supernatural, worlds actually interact. Why in this age of abounding knowledge and curiosity, when we have begun to explore the deepest reaches of this amazingly intricate universe, when all of us, Christian, atheist, and everything in between, encourage the pursuit of understanding (and enjoy the luxurious benefits of a massive increase in understanding, what is more), should we expect the Bible to be as boringly simple as "it means exactly what it says"? Why should it be such an inconvenience to learn that we must actually think about how the Bible might apply to our lives and how God might be using different parts of the Bible to talk to us? It's hard to say which side of dogmatism is more at fault, because both seem to think that the Bible should mean everything it states literally; one side says the Bible's right, so science and anthropology and psychology and philosophy is all wrong, the other side says the Bible's wrong and the whole Christian religion should just be done away with. Nobody in either camp seems willing to step out on a limb and ask, "What if there is some way the two spheres of human inquest meet?" Unfortunately our society is becoming more polarized in its worldviews, so there seem to be fewer "in-between" thinkers, especially as concerns the biblical tradition. It is time for Western society to stop being so intellectually lazy and naive in this regard, and begin to appreciate the subtleties and nuances of Biblical "truth" by a rich, multilayered hermeneutic that takes into account the great degree of human input and construct at work in the text, while avoiding the naturalistic assumption that human invention automatically precludes divine providence.
(A final note: there are some extremely intelligent Christians who, being prolific in science, attempt to correlate the mythical stories especially of Genesis and Exodus with explicable natural events, so that the Bible and science are essentially saying the same thing. While I certainly believe that God uses the regular routines of nature to further his plans, and at times circumstances seem set up in such happily coincidental form as to suggest "miracle" to the eye of faith, still I am not convinced that what is recorded in Scripture in stories, say, of the Exodus, is always a precise account of the real events. Where the Bible does record history it is often "dressed up" and approached from a spiritual angle that heightens the miraculous overtones to emphasize the fact of God's providence within the episode. So while the Israelites did indeed escape from Egypt, probably by a narrow scrape, it was most likely nothing so dramatic as the parting of a sea deep enough to drown chariots. If the sea-crossing tale is a legitimate memory of something that happened, the original occurrence was probably more along the lines of the Hebrews picking along through the mud of a marshy inlet at low tide, and a band of chariots getting bogged down when the tide came back in. But in truth the whole story of the Exodus seems a little grandiose, and the actual flight from Egypt more likely occurred in unexciting increments over a couple of centuries. The fact that the Gospels were written very close to the events they record--in contrast to much of the Old Testament histories which were written centuries after the original happenings--gives more credence to the Gospels' factual veracity, but even there we must be aware that they contain history elaborated by the convictions of religious encounter. So my point is, we must be cautious lest we bend over backward trying to match up the text with scientific fact when the text was never intended to seriously document the hard details of the events concerned; while miracles happen, they are often quite subtle and not glaring, the only monumental, earth-shattering miracle to ever occur being, in my opinion, the resurrection of Christ.)
No comments:
Post a Comment