what was it, mute, inanimate object perched on the counter in the messy late-night kitchen as she finally sweeps up the spilled beans, tosses them out into the night, contemplates both what usually lurks there and if they will grow, sprout, tangle up into vines, vines to block the sun, spin to the clouds where the approximate-rhythmic giant dwells, mocking science, mocking long-dead Darwin, Glutton-clubbing, maggot-and-squirrel devouring Darwin whose mortal life has coiled to dust but whose immortal one is hot, vivid, fierce
Survival of the fittest…
I was in the 8th grade and was a very attentive student. My science teacher taught a lesson about evolution and I asked some question, asserted a dissenting opinion.
She got angry and made me stand in the hall for the rest of class. This was akin to office roulette–if the principal came by I would face discipline. If he did not then my punishment was just the public rebuke and humiliation.
Oddly enough I cherish this memory.
Jesus says if we are ashamed of him now, he will be ashamed of us later. If we stand for him now, he will stand for us later.
When I think of the “wasted” years of my life, years when people have taken my sacrifice without gratitude or worse, hurt my children, I think of this miracle Baby, this King made man.
We Christians understand the evidence for evolution. I teach it to my children. I want them to know it well.
But there is not a single soul on this planet who could ever convince me that Jesus is not
the Word made flesh.
I see Him in the most ordinary things.
I hear His voice in the stillness and the wind.
If you can believe that a single quiet failure of a carpenter can bring hope in the world through a thief’s death, well, the rest is easy.
We all have faith in something.
Why not Jesus?
With his story so crazy it is true.