What I Learned at the Evolution Conference

I promised a report on the the March 26-28, 2015 conference of the Colossian Forum entitled “Re-imagining the Intersection of Evolution and the Fall” held at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, IL. I’ve been back for a week now, so it’s time to share some of my thoughts.

In general, I had a stimulating time of listening to thoughtful speakers and networking with a variety of scientists, theologians, philosophers, historians, and biblical scholars—a very worthwhile event.

My presentation on “Reading Genesis 3 Attentive to Human Evolution” was well received, and resulted in many great conversations afterwards.

Photo of me giving my presentation on March 27, tweeted by Jamie Smith.

New Opportunities Arising from the Conference

While at the conference I was asked by BioLogos, the organization that funded the conference, to do a series of blog posts on the topic of my presentation (which I accepted). I was also invited to a BioLogos meeting of pastors, scholars, and others in San Francisco this Fall (all expenses paid) on the theme of the science/ faith intersection, called “Celebrating Creation.”

While at the conference I had a meeting with Jim Kinney and Steve Ayers, from Baker Academic (the publisher of my latest book, A New Heaven and a New Earth). Jim invited me to publish my next book with them, something I am happy to do. It is tentatively titled The Silence of Abraham, the Passion of Job (on lament prayer). I just sent Baker Academic a preliminary proposal.

What was my basic takeaway from the conference? There were two main points that struck me as important.

Taking Evolution Seriously

The first thing that struck me is that there are many orthodox Christian scholars, working in different fields, who fully embrace the evidence for the biological evolution of humanity over millions of years; they have no trouble being committed Trinitarian Christians while taking evolution seriously. This was a heartening realization, because it coheres with what I believe should be the outworking of a biblical doctrine of creation. Believing that the Creator made a world that is “very good” (Gen 1:31) suggests that we should trust that reliable knowledge of creation is possible, and this knowledge includes the findings of science, including evolutionary science.

Of course, science is an ever-changing field, as new data are uncovered, and not everything that scientists claim at a particular moment will still be claimed in the future. This is certainly true of the details of hominin evolution, including issues like precisely when Homo sapiens migrated from Africa or the precise dating of the male and female ancestors of all persons living today (which depends on understanding the rate of mutations of the Y chromosome and Mitochondrial DNA). Nevertheless, the general outlines are pretty clear and the fact of evolution is not really in dispute in the scientific community.

Taking the Christian Faith Seriously

If there was one significant difference of opinion that I picked up at the conference, it was over the issue of how we relate the Christian faith (including the doctrine of sin/the fall) to evolutionary science. While many scientists and some theologians at the conference clearly wanted to harmonize (in some way) the biblical accounts of origins and the fall with what we know (or think we know) about biological evolution, not all were convinced this was the best route to go.

The reasons were twofold.

The first has to do with the ever-changing field of scientific knowledge. Peter Harrison (a past Gifford lecturer, who has written extensively on the history of religion and science) gave a brilliant presentation on historical attempts to relate biblical teaching about the cosmos to contemporaneous science. He showed how quickly harmonizations of the Bible and science in the modern period had to be revised, as science grew and progressed, leaving some of the authors of new books on the subject looking quite foolish. So we shouldn’t be too quick to jump to an explanation of how biblical truth relates to the latest science.

But the second reason for resisting immediate harmonization is even more important. The biblical accounts of creation and fall have their own integrity, and these accounts make theological claims about origins in their own right. The danger in harmonization (laudable though it is to try and show connections between theology and science) is that we are in danger of changing what the text is actually claiming (for example, many attempts to connect the biblical accounts of origins to evolution end up denying the Bible’s affirmation of a good creation or the historical origin of human sin).

We need to attend to the fact that the Bible wasn’t written to satisfy our scientific curiosity about the cosmos, but rather has a salvific and ethical purpose. This was a point made especially by theologians and biblical scholars at the conference.

It was the judgment of many (though not all) at the conference that the church needs to attend to its own articulation of the significance of creation and fall, indwelling its own scriptural narratives in their full depth, without feeling pressured to make the Bible “fit” what science is currently telling us. This is not a matter of mistrusting science, but rather of respecting the integrity of the biblical witness to God’s purposes for the world articulated in texts like Genesis 1-3.

I was particularly struck this past weekend, as my church celebrated the paschal, mystery followed by Easter, in a series of services, of the amazing richness of the biblical story of Christ’s victory over death, which is meant to frame all of our lives, and guide us towards holy living. Far from us needing to explain away our faith to make it fit contemporary science, the existential truth and power of this deep mystery is a guide for living and thinking, including our thinking about and our practice of science.

My Own Approach to Evolution and the Fall

Not all the presentations at the conference explicitly addressed Genesis 3, the the classic “Fall” narrative. But, as an Old Testament scholar, that was the focus for my own paper.

When I began working on my paper, I initially framed it as an alternative to naive concordism and Non-Overlapping Magisteria (NOMA). The former approach is what I grew up with in the conservative evangelical church, where Scripture was understood as teaching scientific truth about the cosmos, including a young earth and a non-evolutionary history of biological organisms. The result is that much of modern science is rejected, and the rest is made to harmonize with Scripture.

NOMA is the approach advocated by Stephen Jay Gould, the famous agnostic scientist who wanted to respect what the various religious traditions said. He therefore affirmed that their truth was of a different order from that of the sciences, so that the various “magisteria” (science and religion) could never actually contradict each other.

I was dissatisfied with both approaches—the former since it doesn’t take science seriously and the latter since it seems to erect a concrete wall between science and faith that admits of no interaction.

I initially conceived of my paper as an attempt to get beyond both concordism and NOMA. To that end I set out to explore various theological motifs in Genesis 2-3, such as the creation of humans and animals from the earth, the meaning of the tree of life, the prohibition of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, the significance of the snake and its dialogue with the woman, the subsequent narrative of transgression and judgment, and the spread of sin and violence in Genesis. Along the way, I made some tentative and speculative comments about how elements of this story might relate to a virtue ethics approach to the development of moral consciousness and also with the state of our current knowledge of evolutionary anthropology.

While some of my suggestions for possible connections with evolution were intriguing, in the end I came to the conclusion that our primary need is to understand the story of Genesis 2-3 in its own right before we try to relate it to evolutionary history. We need to take the time to understand (and indwell) this powerful narrative as the deepest truth of our origins as human beings and the origins of our falling out with God and one another. Only then will be in any position to think clearly about how this text might relate to human evolution.

Note: The conference proceedings are now published as essays in Evolution and the Fall (Eerdmans, 2017), ed. by William T. Cavanaugh and James K. A. Smith.

Preparation in Heaven for Revelation on Earth – The “Apocalyptic” Pattern

Today Baker Academic began their weekly series of blog posts “Beyond the Book.” Each week during March I will be discussing interesting things I learned about eschatology while working on A New Heaven and a New Earth. My first post, Preparation in Heaven for Revelation on Earth – The “Apocalyptic” Pattern, focuses on how I have come to interpret the many “heaven” passages in the New Testament, which seem to be associated with the Christian hope.

This is a very short post, which just scratches the surface of the topic. The full discussion can be found in chapter 10 of my eschatology book.

Also, as part of this series Baker is giving away three copies of A New Heaven and a New Earth. The winners will be announced at the end of the month, and you can enter here.

More Discussion and Clarification of My Views on Eschatology (Jesus Creed Blog)

A couple days ago Scot McKnight (New Testament scholar; prolific author and blogger) posted a review of my book, A New Heaven and a New Earth. This generated a number of comments, some of which seemed to misunderstand what I was saying, so I responded with clarifications. I then got further questions, and I responded again. I’ve highlighted below some of my responses, for those interested.

The Motive for Ethical Living Today

One commenter wondered whether “new heavens and new earth eschatology should be a motive and basis for caring for creation and culture,” since there are people without this eschatology who are, in fact, concerned for this world.

This is how I responded:

I am basically a Wesleyan in orientation. This means that it isn’t some abstract concept of the eschaton that motivates me to care about this world. Rather, as one who passionately desires to be conformed to God’s image and thus to manifest what Wesley called “social holiness” in my life of discipleship, I want to love what God loves.

So I understand the promise of the renewal of creation, which began with Christ’s resurrection, and which can be a reality in the life of the church, to signify the heart of God.

My motivation to love the world (human and non-human) with God’s love, empowered by Christ’s Spirit, and thus manifest the imago Dei, is grounded in God’s unswerving commitment to humanity and creation after sin (see Genesis 9), and to Israel after the idolatry of the Golden Calf (see Exodus 34), and to the disciples after their abandonment of Jesus (and I could keep adding to that pattern, which recurs throughout Scripture), which culminates with the new heaven and new earth or the reconciliation of all things through Christ.

Have Christians Throughout History Always Thought of “Heaven” as Otherworldly?

On of the points that Scot McKnight himself raised in the review is that it is inaccurate to characterize all Christian speculation about the afterlife as otherworldly.

I responded:

I wanted to comment on your point that the history of eschatology suggests that not all Christian visions of the afterlife have consisted in an otherworldly, ethereal “heaven.” You’re absolutely right there, as I think my survey of eschatology (in the Appendix to my book) verifies.

However, you seem to be claiming more than I do, namely that it has been somewhat common for Christians to envision a new heaven and new earth as the final state (and you mention the history of heaven book by McDannell and Lang). I’m not sure I agree. Or, at least, it may be that I interpret the same data differently.

Part of the issue is that it has been typical to envision “heaven” in concrete earthly terms, while believing that it is some sort of hyper (non-earthly) reality. This is analogous to the point Caroline Walker Bynum makes in her book, The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336. She notes that despite the influence of Platonism on Christian visions of the afterlife, the impact of the biblical teaching of the resurrection of the body led even those Christians who shunned a physical vision of the eschaton to conceive of immaterial “bodies” (whatever that means). Likewise, it seems to me that many have transferred concrete elements of the known world to the afterlife, even when the final reality is thought of as immaterial.

Beyond that, however, many Christians (especially in modern times) have envisioned the afterlife as a perfect replica of this world, without thinking of of it as the redemption of this world. Rather, what is envisioned is another, better world. To me, this difference is crucial, since it is the renewal of this world that articulates the vision I am interested in (even a replacement cosmos won’t do).

How Often Does the Bible Speak of New Creation?

One of the points McKnight made is that only Isaiah and Revelation speak of “a new heaven and a new earth,” so we shouldn’t think that this theme is all that common in the Bible. I was not the only person who responded to this point. One respondent pointed out the transformation of the cosmos mentioned in Hebrews 1 and 12, and in Romans 8.

So I joined the discussion:

I would agree that Isaiah 65:17-25 (also 66:22) and Revelation 21:1 aren’t the only places in Scripture that address the new creation. Beyond these two texts that explicitly use the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth,” there is 2 Peter 3:13.

But, of course, as you intimate, new creation is addressed in many more places in the Bible than where the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth” appears.

In the book, I address some of the clearest New Testament texts, such as Acts 3:21 (the restoration of “all things”), Ephesians 1:10 (the gathering up of “all things” in Christ), Colossians 1:20 (the reconciliation of “all things” in Christ), and Romans 8 (the liberation of creation itself from its bondage to decay, so that it might experience the same glory as the children of God). Both the Ephesians and Colossian texts specify “all things” as all things in heaven and on earth, thereby alluding to the cosmos God made in the beginning (when God created “the heaven and the earth”).

But many other texts also address the same reality, using different language. I actually address the text in Hebrews that speaks of the “changing” of the cosmos (parallel to Paul talking about being changed and clothed with the resurrection body, like a new suit of clothes, in 1 Corinthians 15:50-54).

So I think the theme of new creation is much broader than the phrase “a new heaven and a new earth.” Part of the thrust of my book is to show this pervasiveness, which is not limited to specific lexical items. The book is thus an attempt at a biblical theology of the eschaton, where the eschaton is the logical unfolding and natural telos of God’s purposes from the beginning for the flourishing of the world he made.