The Surprising Reason Why I Don’t Believe in Evolution

I don’t believe in evolution because I have never seen a monkey at the movies.

Excuse me?!

Allow me to unpack.

monkeys_ernestclineI am not scientifically trained; my last science class was in high school.  However, just as everyone is a theologian, forming interpretations and views and convictions about God (or not-God), so too everyone is a scientist, forming hypotheses and gathering information to confirm or challenge those theories.

That said, I have no lab work to back my findings.  I have not participated in an archaeological excavation or visited the Galapagos Islands.  I would jump at such opportunities, but those have not been my life.

My first thought on evolution: It is not a mere theory.

It is certainly a fact.

Excuse me again?!

You heard me rightly.

The movement, by small degrees, from state A to state B to state C is an undeniable reality. I am a different man today than I was yesterday or last year.  The world is changing, along with all of its parts.

In a sentence, I see evolution as a certain process, but not as a limitless process.

Many have used the phrases “micro-evolution” and “macro-evolution” to speak of the difference to which I’m alluding, while some feel clearer terms are needed.  (One such article is HERE, though I fear the author’s grudge with creationists has actually clouded his ability to express his point.)

Regardless of precise terms, my point of conviction is simply that some fences do exist.  The universe is not so fluid that any substance can become any other substance.  It appears woven into nature that THIS is THIS and THAT is THAT, and we live within a world comprised of a glorious variety of this-es and thats-es (to speak in the tongue of the esteemed Dr. Seuss).

One example is the similarity of DNA observed between humans and primates.  Some estimate that the DNA common between chimpanzees and humans is 93-98%.  To any student, this “test score” sounds impressive, as in, “close to 100%”.  But in the precision realm of genetics, one must raise a different consideration:

What lies in that narrow field of difference?

To be blunt, I don’t need a scientist to tell me that monkeys and men are similar.  Pass a deck of flashcards depicting creature silhouettes, and even a child could conclude that the man’s form is more like the monkey’s than to those of the tiger or elephant or camel, not to even mention creatures of the sky or sea.

So the similarities are easy to establish.  Save your lab fees; I’m already convinced.

As I said earlier, it would be poor logic to see an impressive figure like 93-98% and thus conclude that the remaining 2-7% is of little consequence.  My common-sense theory would argue that every detail found in that thin slice of the genetic pie is part of the proof that evolution exists within solidly established and beyond-compromise boundaries.

How can I make such a firm statement?

Answer: I’ve never seen a monkey at the movies.

I’m confident that some cultured primates might enjoy a film, but they are unlikely to get a chance.

Who is going to ask them on a date?

The rich verses of the childhood taunt sketch out how relationships typically move forward:

Joey and Susan sitting in a tree,
K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
First comes love, then comes marriage,
Then comes Joey pushing a baby carriage.

Conceivably, a movie date with a monkey could very well end in a tree.  Regardless of the specifics though, this romance assuredly could not end with a baby carriage.

Those 2-7% of differences between DNA are forceful enough to deem inter-species reproduction impossible, even when the similarities might run as high as 98%, it appears.  Within those complex amino acid combinations, all sorts of not-compatible-with-life sequences exist.  Giving sperm from one species access to an egg of another is not a creative venture, even when the percentage appears to suggest nearly “can’t miss” odds.

Yet, evolutionary theory claims that given obscene lengths of time, freak genetic mutations, combined with useful survival-geared genetic “slidings”, have created the vast array of species we witness today.  My city’s primate-free theaters suggest that the lines between species are impassably thick, yet evolutionary theory aims to convince me that they have been crossed millions of times by virtual chance.

I’m afraid I’d have to muster more than my mustard seed of faith to enter that realm.

YOUR TURN: What points within the creation/evolution/whatever-else debate have stuck in your mind as key rungs on your ladder to understanding? Your input makes this post better!

[You can subscribe to this blog by RSS or email, in this page’s upper right corner.]

Miraculously Natural

With three daughters under the age of four, I have read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” more times than the average man. For the uninformed, this is the tale of caterpillar who breaks free from his egg with a serious hunger. After five days of colourfully-sketched fruit, he goes on a dietary tear, eating his way through desserts and delicacies, meats and treats. A stomachache lands him back at a green leaf feast. By this time, our tiny protagonist has become a pudgy worm on the verge of cocooning. The finale of the book begins on the second-last page:

Then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out, and… (final page turn here)

He was a beautiful butterfly!

 

[The story can be viewed HERE, if you wish.]

A colourful story of how worms become butterflies, this children’s book has yet to educate me on what really happens.  How does a slinking and slimy caterpillar become a soaring and stunning butterfly?  What magical tailor lives in that cocoon to design, craft, and attach those wings to that thing?

It is no error that we use the word metamorphosis to describe this process:

A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.

No exaggeration is necessary to tie the term “miracle” to such a definition, yet the reminder quickly follows: “This is natural.”

Miraculously natural.

A paradoxical phrase. Continue reading

Safe

Last week, my wife gave birth to our third daughter.

As I held this sweet and tiny bundle today, she sneezed several times, creating snotted nose and running eyes. Unfazed by such substances (Super-Dad I am!), I began swiping and wiping “sans Scotties“. My daughter held stone-still as I cleaned her nose.  But my movement toward her eyes caused a forceful flinch. An audible word escaped my mouth:

“Safe.”

Gently, I urged her toward stillness, “You are safe, my dear one.”

And she took me at my word.

As she stilled, I re-approached. She locked her gaze on me and watched intently as I de-gunked her eyes.  Not a jump, nor a jitter.

Her small shining eyes upon me made wonder:

  • What can she possibly grasp on this day?
  • Can she know with confidence that her Dad will do her no damage?
  • How certain can she be that this still-blurred figure holding her will bring healing rather than harm?

Truths be told: Very little, she cannot, and uncertain at best.

Those dark reflective eyes displayed my face and forced forward a question: How still can YOU lie?

The everything-Maker and forever-Father envisions for us dreams that dwarf our drafts.  He then moves, absolutely aware of what is required to transport us from our “here” to His “there”.  Intimate inspiration, divine discipline, and everything in between: He will use every means necessary to move us.  God’s touch is precise, His nudging as nuanced as need be. He can wield the stick, tend the heart, or de-gunk the eyes, whatever it takes to poke and prod us toward our destiny of overflowing and overwhelming life.

And our “forever issue” is trust.

  • Can I trust Him?
  • Will He hurt me?
  • Does He have my best interests in mind?

Today, my friends, take this to heart: You are safe in God’s hands.

In fact, a more secure spot does not exist.

Rest in it. Revel in it. Look upward at the still-blurred Presence of your Creator, and dare to take Him at His word:

For I know the plans I have for you: Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Call on me and come to me and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

Editing this post earlier, my nine-day-old daughter was still in my arms, silently studying my face. Was she certain of my love for her? After barely a week, she cannot know for sure. Yet her peaceful expression spoke to the childlike nature of faith: Here she was in her entirety, in my hands, awaiting me to lovingly touch and teach as I see fit.

That is what good fathers do.

That is what YOUR Father is moving to do today.

Hold still. Trust Him.

“You are safe, my dear one.”