Creation

Sins of the Fathers (and Mothers)

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‘The LORD is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and transgression, but he will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, to the third and the fourth generation.’
—Numbers 14:18 ESV

Despite the fact that the vast majority of scientific discoveries that undergird our modern life were made by Christians and that science in Europe outstripped science in the East and Middle East because Christian Europeans believed God is knowable and His Creation understandable, atheists continue to overlook facts and claim Christians are anti-science. They claim that believing the Bible is tantamount to disbelieving science, and they like to insist the Bible, when it talks about science, is “underinformed.”

Lately, I’ve been fascinated with the science of epigenetics, and I am because of the Bible verse that begins this post.

Epigenetics explains some of the presence of supposed “junk” in the human genome and why we can’t trace every genetic outcome to genes alone. While standard genetic theory could account for the sameness of identical twins, even down to shared behaviors, it could not account for the differences. Enter epigenetics.

Jean-Baptiste Lamarck

Jean-Baptiste Lamarck

When Darwinism hit Victorian sensibilities like a sledgehammer, it also pounded the life out the widely accepted theories of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck. Lamarckism postulates that a generation could make choices and changes it could then pass on to progeny.  While Lamarck did not originate the idea, he nonetheless championed it and expanded on its principles so well that it gained his name.

Like many Enlightenment scientists in France, Lamarck was not a supporter of Christianity. That said, he continued to believe that chance did not run the cosmos, adhering to the ordered, planned, and meaningful universe concept likewise expressed by Christians.

Today, the field of epigenetics is so hot, it borders on incendiary. It turns out there may be more to the idea of being “born that way,” no matter what type of deviance or godliness “that way” might be.

Epigenetics demonstrates that a good or bad genetic expression may not express unless turned on. Remarkably (or should I write Lamarckably), an organism may have the genetic predilection toward a bad outcome yet that bad outcome never arises. Conversely, it may if switched on by the environment, nurture, or personal choices. The genetic disease possessed by twins may be expressed solely by the twin who decides to eat certain types of food; the gene combo for the disease literally switches on due to epigenetics. And this can also be passed to progeny.

Which is where sins of the fathers kick in. Epigenetics is showing that repeated bad choices by a parent can lead to a tendency in the offspring to manifest the same bad behavior. Lamarck rears his head yet again.

So, the visitation of the iniquities of the fathers (and mothers) to the third and fourth generation has a possible epigenetic link. Some epigeneticists are able to break down certain sinful behaviors into father-spawned or mother-spawned. Contrariwise, a godly parent may pass on a positive epigenetic tendency toward his or her offspring’s faith in God.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made, yet we are also damaged by the Fall of Man. That damage goes deep, even to our genetics, which we are now learning may bend us toward wrongful behavior because of what our moms and dads did. Or in those cases when we overcome, toward faithful living.

Looks like a case of science proving the Bible.

My Visit to the Creation Museum

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Given the reputation bestowed on me as a longtime Godblogger known for trenchant commentary on Evangelical excess, it would seem obvious to write about the Creation Museum. That I live an hour from the museum only ratchets up the obviousness another notch.

But I had not been to the museum since its opening in 2007. Honestly, I wasn’t sure of my need to go, even if nearly every Christian I know in the Greater Cincinnati area had been at least once.

After receiving tickets as a gift (thank you!), my family and I ventured just west of the city airport on a dreary, late December day.

My first thought on entering wasn’t what I thought it would be: Man, what’s with all the Mennonites? I think half the women visitors were in bonnets. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say a few full-fledged Amish were there. Definitely not was I was expecting.

The museum itself is the quintessential example of a postmodern stone and wood design, built with the hope to look natural. It succeeded.

In fact, most everything at the museum succeeded. The displays were informative (albeit sometimes repetitive), the models/figures top notch, the employees friendly, and the general atmosphere of the entire place was…well, nice. In fact, nice pretty much summed up the entire visit.

A few things stood out for good or ill to me:

The displays went to the Mount St. Helens well a bit too often. By that I mean that the destruction caused by that volcano and the subsequent amazing recovery around that area were used repeatedly as an example of catastrophic processes that mirrored the biblical flood, especially as a way to explain rapid canyonization. While I can appreciate that explanation, seeing it time and again didn’t boost the argument.

The quality of the museum met or exceeded that of other museums. Despite already hosting a few million visitors, the museum looked as if it opened yesterday. The staff must also take “cleanliness is next to godliness” literally, because I’m not sure that even a speck of dust escapes purging. Cleanest public place I’ve ever been in.

Dinosaurs on Noah’s ark? Well, I have a hard time accepting that. The museum didn’t come off explaining that one too convincingly, either. And lifesize models of humans cavorting with playful velociraptors felt jarring to me.

Theories about ark construction techniques proved fascinating, and the ark-building display was impressive.

Displays, while first class, were a bit less interactive than some other museums, and I didn’t see that they catered to a wide range of learning types. Text dominated, but all the visuals were well done too.

All models of Eve had the prerequisite long, flowing locks that perfectly covered all her “naughty” bits. (As if there were any other possible display option.)

Scripture quotations were solid. I thought the museum used Scripture correctly and compellingly. Nothing seemed forced. Big thumbs up from me.

The museum definitely put Christianity front and center. This was Christian Apologetics 101 through 612. The walkthrough concluded with a low-key, evangelistic film presentation of Jesus as the Christ.

What wasn’t front and center was a little bothersome to me: theories countering radioactive dating and decay measurements. For some reason, the museum buried its relatively few counterarguments to radioactive dating behind one of the theaters and near their administrative offices. I would think that this critical counterargument data would be in a more prominent place, but it wasn’t. Nor was there much to counter the starlight argument. I expected better.

The museum built its display walkthrough around seven Cs: creation, corruption, catastrophe, confusion, Christ, cross, and culmination. That worked well and proved memorable.

The bookstore was packed with resources containing everything a visitor would need to know about young-Earth creationism. Really, if you can’t find it there, it ain’t made.

While I expected to be gouged at the two dining areas, the prices and food quality were on par with most fast food restaurants. Think Chipotle and Chick-fil-A meet Skyline Chili.

The museum advertises itself as a full-day event, but we cruised through in three hours, including our meal. I’m sure if we’d read every single display in full, it would’ve been a couple hours longer, but we had an eager 10-year-old in tow. I suspect for most families, our time is a decent predictor.

And that brings me to my biggest critique.

In truth, I can’t say anything bad about the museum’s content. You may or may not agree with the basic premise of a young-Earth creation in six, 24-hour days, but the museum makes its case and it is exactly what it bills itself. Some may say that the Creation Museum epitomizes Evangelical excess and a “please like us” mentality, but you know, I won’t go there. If anything, my willingness to want to offer trenchant commentary about those issues became a nonissue.

Where I struggle is the cost. An adult admission runs $25, with kids $22. The planetarium, which I would have liked to have visited, was another $8 per person. The museum shows creationist movies, but some were an additional cost of $3, if I remember correctly.

All that adds up—quickly. Given that I have no compelling reason to return to the museum anytime soon, I wonder how viable it is for the long run. In addition, I noticed that our tickets, received in August, were $3 less than current admission prices. I’m guessing the average family of four could easily drop $175 for the afternoon for all activities and a meal, and that’s without buying anything from the bookstore.

I realize that quality usually costs money. While I admire the Creation Museum’s commitment to quality, boy, that’s a lot of money for a family to spend for what amounts to an afternoon Sunday School lesson.

Stuff I Don’t Get: Creation, Sin, Death, and Design

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The Creation Museum is pretty much in my backyard. Aussie transplant Ken Ham enjoys plenty of supporters around here. I think everyone in my church has been to the museum at least once.

The genesis of writing this “Stuff I Don’t Get” series came after contemplating the barn swallow and creation. I’m a lifelong birder, so I’ve always found pleasure in identifying and watching birds.

A pair of barn swallows, they of the forked tails and elegant aerial acrobatics, nested on a floodlight on my garage. Barn SwallowI’m partial to swallows. Watching them skim the earth as they gorge on bugs I stir up while mowing is one of my favorite tractor-top activities.

But here’s the stuff I don’t get:

Many Christians believe that death only came into existence after Adam sinned.

They would say that sin damages and ruins things, never making them better than they were.

They would likely insist that the first animals ate only plants (and I would guess not enough of one plant to kill it entirely) so as to avoid the death issue before Adam sinned.

But what then explains the barn swallow?

It’s a perfect bug-eating machine, consuming—and thus killing—hundreds of insects a day. The swallow has an oversized mouth that stretches into a gaping maw. Its dexterity in flight is unequaled, perfectly paired to catching flying bugs. Almost entirely a bird of the air, its tiny feet are wholly inappropriate to clinging to reeds and plant stems, making the consumption of seeds, nuts, and berries difficult, more of a desperation food than its normal diet.

Here is an animal unfit for primarily eating plants, and totally suited in every way for consuming one kind of food: small, flying creatures.

So how can it be that the swallow EVER ate plants alone? Nothing of its physiology is geared for that sole task.

And if the swallow’s current form is the result of the degrading transformational effects of sin, how did sin ever create such a beautiful and elegant result?

If you—or Ken Ham—have a good explanation, I’m all ears.