“Former Fundie” Ben Corey notes that extraterrestrial life may be discovered on what Trekkies would call a likely “Class M” planet—a planet that has the conditions for supporting life. Does this shoot the literal reading of Genesis 1? Corey summarizes two responses to the text:
Fundamentalist: This is what the text says. If it did not happen exactly the way it is recorded, it is not true. Therefore, it must be true.
Atheist: This is what the text says. If it did not happen exactly the way it is recorded, it is not true. Therefore, you’d have to be closed-minded to believe it.
It’s the same hermeneutical approach on both sides. It imports the same modern assumptions on how we tell history versus how ancients told stories, and assumes being “inspired by God” means the text must answer modern questions instead of ancient ones.
I personally don’t know any Christians, fundamentalist or otherwise, who think that if the creation account in Genesis is seen to omit something (like the existence of extraterrestrial life, his example), it is necessarily in error. And Corey acknowledges this in the post. If there are fundamentalists out there saying that Genesis 1 has to be exhaustively precise in order to be true, that is indeed bad.
It seems like this point Corey’s making belongs in another article, one about how modern(ist) readings of the text of Genesis twist it out of its intended genre. But he doesn’t have to write it; I’ve read it. The argument goes back at least to the 19th century: “The Bible is not a science textbook.”
Sometimes when I read this particular polemic, however, I want to ask, “Is the conservative reading of Scripture on creation (including Gen 1 and Rom 5 and 8) so ridiculous on textual grounds? Is it impossible to see how anyone would arrive at a young-earth interpretation? Are there no circumstances (a new scientific consensus, for example) under which these words could reasonably be thought to be claiming that God created the world in six days, culminating with the creation of an original pair of humans? If this is a possible reading, then is it wrong to adopt it? If so, why?” I don’t see how it’s a particularly modern question to ask, “How did the universe begin?” Or even “How long were the days of creation?” Given that a great many ancient people—including, ahem, Jesus and Paul—appear to have believed in a historical Adam and Eve, am I to be charged with modernism for agreeing with them?
The writings of the fathers on Genesis have become a battleground for this very reason, and from the reading I’ve done—including at Biologos and Answers in Genesis just today—it seems the evidence goes both ways: there are fathers like Augustine who read Genesis 1 differently than Ken Ham; there are fathers like Ephrem the Syrian who specifically state that the days of creation were 24-hour days (“Although the light and the clouds were created in the twinkling of an eye, still both the day and the night of the First Day were each completed in twelve hours”). But it only takes one premodern citation for me to prove that my reading is not necessarily modern; Corey has to show, I think, not only 1) that my supposedly modern interests are not at all reflected among ancient writers and 2) that writers like Augustine were not themselves unduly influenced by the cultural currents of their own day. James Mook tackles this in a chapter in Coming to Grips with Genesis.
I’m a creationist because Genesis appears to demand it, and Jesus and Paul most definitely do. Jesus assumed a historical Adam, and so did Paul. Paul bases key parts of his theology on Adam. See Romans 5. He bases key parts of his theology on the connection between sin and death: death came into the world through sin. See Romans 8. (I’ve written on this at much greater length in Biblical Worldview: Creation, Fall, Redemption.) I don’t think all the work on behalf of this viewpoint is done. There are complexities and difficulties involved in the text, not just in the task of fitting the text to the modern scientific consensus. Young-earth creationists need to keep working at our view and defending it and sharpening it.
The Slippery Slope
Although the slippery slope argument is never airtight, because it presumes to predict the future (So-and-so won’t be a Christian at all in five years) or find cause-effect relations that are impossible to prove (So-and-so got to this point because he denied doctrine X), I feel safe in asking: Is there any connection between Corey’s disbelief in a historical Adam and Eve (and therefore a historical fall) and his opposition to what I take to be one of the central doctrines of Christianity and something inestimably precious to me personally, namely Christ’s death in my place to satisfy the wrath of God? There are Bible interpreters who doubt the young-earth reading of Genesis 1 and yet can sing “In Christ Alone” with gusto. I take C. John Collins to be one; but Corey could not sing the hymn (or preach Romans 3 without Olympic-level hermeneutical gymnastics).
And is there any connection between Corey’s denial of an original heterosexual human pair and his affirmation of the morality of homosexual sex?
Again, the slippery slope argument can never be applied with absolute certainty to any individual: I don’t know Corey’s history beyond his own telling. But I think the slippery slope argument can legitimately be used to describe general historical trends. Is it not true that the doctrinal dominos often fall in a kind of order, both in individuals an in groups (such as the Protestant mainline)? Or that views once deemed unthinkable tend to become actual, given certain premises?
It really is possible to give away too much of the Christian faith in an effort to be relevant. Corey has done it; sadly, Corey has done it. If the church needs help moving away from imprisonment to a modernist hermeneutical schema, I don’t think he’s the one to lead us.
I won’t deny that alternative readings of Genesis 1 have appealing features. I don’t like looking like a rube anymore than the next obscure redheaded blogger, and I try not to adopt interpretations of Scripture in order to make smart people mock me. But if the appeal of alternative readings is, at bottom, that they excuse us from having to wear a cultural dunce cap, other Christian beliefs will force it right back on our heads. We might as well learn to stand, and having done all, to stand.
Nonetheless… I’m very happy to agree that no one, fundamentalist or atheist, should read the text of Scripture to affirm anything the authors didn’t intend to affirm. But there’s also the little problem of denying that they affirmed things they clearly said. Don’t forget that ditch on the other side of the road—or the slippery slope leading to it.