… I walked down the aisle.

It has been quite the year. I’ve learned so much I hardly know where to begin. And yet I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface.

I’ll start with how we met. The day was August 27, 2004. My roommate liked her roommate. He couldn’t do the creepy thing and invite a girl over that he barely knew, so in addition to her, he invited her roommate, a couple of their friends, the girls across the street, and a few guys all to watch a movie at our place. It was all very casual. I learned about it that afternoon when he told that “a bunch of girls” were coming over to watch a movie. I’d long since given up on meeting a girl, having just graduated from a Christian university where some in the student body might think singleness is sinfulness, and still managing to not get married. (Which I’m quite proud of, by the way). Still, what guy wouldn’t love to have his future wife walk in through the front door of his living room?

We all stood around in a circle and played two truths and a lie. On the first go round, I told three truths by accident. The most awkward moment came when the subject turned to painting and decorating rooms, and I mentioned that I had just painted my room bright red and asked if anyone wanted to see it. Amy immediately said yes, but no one else did, leaving both us quite uncomfortable. (I especially since I didn’t want to be creepy — which, in hindsight the whole “do you want to see my room” line might not have been such a good idea.) One of her friends came to the rescue by saying yes too, and we both breathed a sigh of relief.

During the movie (which was really nothing that special), we just happened to sit next to each other on a small couch off to the side. Now here’s where I’m going to let you in on a little secret… If you ask my wife what happened next, she’ll tell you a lie. She’ll swear that I scooted closer to her first. Don’t believe a word of it. I wasn’t that brave. I was watching her out of the corner of my eye (she was a lot prettier than Tom Cruise after all) looking for any sign that she liked me. I saw it all very clearly. She scooted closer first. Emboldened, I scooted towards her too. As the movie progressed, the distance between us decreased. Here’s pretty much what it looked like.

Now for clarification, it should be noted that when distance apart = 0, that was the distance between our shoulders. She wasn’t sitting in my lap.

So about marriage itself… To begin with, I’ve learned that marriage is harder but better. No longer is the question you. It’s now us. And sometimes us means sacrifice or compromise. Even after a year, this changes you. I think it makes you a better person. It’s not always easy. In fact, at times, it can be downright maddening. But it’s always good. In this sense, marriage is one of the most spiritual things I’ve ever experienced. (And this from a person who gets the heebie-jeebies when it comes to people loudly claiming that this or that is spiritual). My whole understanding of what it means to both love and be loved took on a deeper meaning when I got married, and in ways that I can’t really explain, this has translated profoundly into my understanding of what love is, as it relates to my Christian faith.

Having a best friend to share life with is very satisfying too. Making plans for the future, coming home everyday to someone who’s happy to see you, and even facing the challenges that come your way. It’s all better married.

Yet in this regard I am profoundly sensitive. We’ve both known people who, upon getting married, suddenly act as if they’re on a different plane than those single people. As if single were a bad word or something. We’ve tried very hard to not be that married couple that can only hang out with married people, and who acts as if we’ve received some special revelation from God about the nature of life, just because we’re now married. I’ve seen this sort of arrogance or insensitivity first hand with friends, and we’ve been determined not to fall into its trap. But the reason this trap is seductive is because it’s exciting getting married, and it’s easy to let that excitement make you a little blind to those around you.

Mainly though, I’m honored to be married to such a great women. I can definitely say that I married “up” and am a better person for it. On the other hand, if you ask my wife on her perspective, though I’m sure she would say nice things about me, the truth is it might look a little something like this.

All I can say is “thanks, honey.” One down, a lifetime to go.

It’s been a while since I put up a picture of The Bruce. He was recently caught showing his dominance over all the apartment, belting out a manly roar. (Okay, it might have been a yawn).

Jason Rosenhouse over at EvolutionBlog recently commented on an article by Michael Ruse about religion and evolution. That article was fine — I agree with Ruse’s point, but Rosenhouse misses the mark when it comes to religion.

For example, he writes

I agree with what Ruse is saying here, and I especially like that last paragraph. But I also think the fundamentalists have a point in protesting the willingness of people like Ruse to interpret the Bible metaphorically. The creation story in Genesis sure reads like history. There’s nothing in the text itself to suggest that it is anything but a description of actual historical events.

Nothing to suggest otherwise? How about two creation stories, clearly contradictory with each other. The second begins in Genesis 2:4 with Adam all alone, before the rest of creation and without Eve (this if read even close to literally). Yet we’ve just been told they were both made on the same day, at the end of a long process of creation. Now fundamentalists reconile this by simply claiming that the second story of creation is simply a “close up” of day seven in the first, with the creation of Adam and Eve. This simply isn’t tenable, and I’ll refer you to an old testament professor and “Why’s [He’s] Not a Creationist” for a good explanation of the whole thing.

And how about the rhythmic pattern of creation? The same pattern each day (and it was good), culminating in a day of rest… I’m no scholar or revolutionary for recognizing that this is poetic, even using devices of literature, rather than a literal history.

Jason continues:

To many Christians, Ruse’s suggestion seems like substituting fallible human judgments for the holy word of God. After all, why would God present his Word in a form so vague and malleable that it must be reinterpreted in the light of every new scientific discovery to come down the line? And if you concede that the Bible is routinely wrong in scientific matters (as all sensible people should concede), then why does it retain any worth when addressing moral or historical questions? If the merits of its empirical statements must be assessed on the basis of outside sources of knowledge, why shouldn’t we also assess it’s moral claims on the basis of non-Biblical sources? Either the Bible is the holy and inerrant word of God, or it is an ancient document written by people with no more claim to authority than any other document that has survived from that time. It’s hard to find a logically consistent middle ground.

Here’s a strawman. I can say the same thing about other types of literature. “And if you concede that Shakespeare is routinely wrong in scientific matters (as all sensible people should concede)…” So who’s wrong? Shakespeare or the way I’m trying to read Shakespeare? The problem is the same as it’s always been. Some (okay, many) Christians look to the Bible and attempt to derive answers for all kinds of scientific questions from the text. Jason is all too happy to accept that view of the Bible and club them over the head for it.

I don’t have a problem that the Bible is “routinely wrong in scientific matters.” I think it’s a gross error to hold ancient writers accountable for not saying something they were never trying to say in the first place. (Meaning that the intent or purpose of the writers has never been the same as our modern pursuit of science). Jason seems to think that the good book can’t be the holy word of God and an ancient document with the types of errancy common to ancient documents, both at the same time. My view of inspiration (and regardless if we’re in the minority — many other Christians as well), is not that God came down and literally penned the letters, or manipulatively controlled the person who did, but rather speaks to us through this ancient literature.

As far as judging the Bible on it’s moral claims, all I can say is that this is precisely why I’m a Christian. Perhaps the only reason. Jesus raised from the dead? Ehhh, doesn’t do much for me. I frankly find it hard to believe — that is until I put the gospel to the test. I believe that the gospel has the power to transform lives. Especially broken, really screwed up lives. (Which I believe to be all of us, in one area or another). This foundation — that I’ve struggled to follow the moral claims of the Bible and found them to be surprisingly powerful — is the “proof” I base my belief on.

Not only do I understand that this “proof” is simply unacceptable to many, I respect their freedom to make this decision. But I’m always disappointed when the same polite respect is not returned — thus my quibble with Jason’s post. It was a far cry from his excellent recent article on the state of intelligent design research, a topic on which I’m happy to agree whole-heartedly.

If you’ll indulge me, I have quite a story to share. It’s about life and what we want from life. It’s about what we find important, what we really value, and what we’ll do without in order to get it.

My wife is a waitress this summer. The other day at work, she had a table that was particularly annoying. The moment they walked in, a man in the party did something so bizarre, so shocking, it defies belief. Because it’s the punch line of the story, I’m going to save it till the end. So you’ll have to read the whole post (or just skip to the bottom) to find out what happened…

Now my wife is very slow to get angry. It’s almost annoying how nice, tolerant, and mild mannered she is! But even she has her limits, and they were met and exceeded with this table.

To set the scene, it was a table with an older couple. They quickly became frustrated with the menu. They were trying to order the senior special, but complaining endlessly that the options weren’t comparable to the full menu. Perhaps they had a point. In offering an unequal menu for the seniors, perhaps society was unappreciative of their great contributions. The senior meals come with fries, which separately cost $2.50. Yet they could substitute only one order of vegetables, worth a mere $0.75. “Why the discrepancy?,” the gentlemen wanted to know. Indeed, a great injustice may have been occurring.

But an injustice at my wife’s hands it was not. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that she serves the food rather than makes the menu, they bitterly complained. My poor wife had to finally throw down the gauntlet. “I’m really sorry that your upset, but I don’t make the menu and have no control over these decisions. You can order a regular meal and get what you want, or the senior meal for the reduced price.”

Once the food was out of the way, the real point of contention surfaced. They asked friendly enough personal questions — Where are you from? What are you doing? Oh you’re married? What’s you husband doing? — etc. Friendly enough, that is, until they bluntly decided to share what they thought of our plans…

My wife wants to be an elementary teacher and I a college professor. “Are you independently wealthy?” the women asked with an incredulous scowl upon her face. “How do you expect to pay for any of this?”

My wife tried explaining that since you spend most of your adult life at work, we felt it was important to pursue things we were passionate about. That when the day was done and our lives were lived, we would be far happier with a job we cared about than a job we didn’t but which paid us more. This seemed to be lost on them, and they continued insulting her for being so stupid as to help support a husband in grad school. With the excuse of “other customers” my wife walked off, a wee bit ticked off.

So, what’s the surprise waiting for you at the end of the post? The punch line of it all? Well get this. When they walked in, the man had a tape measure. He required at least 14 inches in between the booth and the table to accommodate his stomach. His wife also required the same. And he measured to ensure that he had it.

Yes indeed. When times are tough, and I reflect on the decisions I’ve made in life and the endeavors I’ve decided to pursue, I’ll surely think back to this guy and his wife, squabbling over a few cents on a senior meal, and measuring their booths to make room for their stomachs. And I’ll reflect on the life I never had.

Something tells me I won’t miss it very much.

For those that haven’t heard yet, a project to sequence the Neadertal genome has been announced. The company doing it has a very nice press release available with a set of resources on the project. They also have a nice brief background (pdf format) on Neandertals.

What I found so amazing about this whole project is the ambitious goal of sequencing a genome from bones that long ago belonged to the deceased. Indeed, some of the main challenges to the project are dealing with very short pieces of DNA (something that happens as bones fossilize and decay) as well as lots of contamination from bacterial DNA. From what I gathered, the whole thing wouldn’t have even been possible if not for recent advances in sequencing technology.

I found the following particularly interesting.

Approximately 99% of the Homo sapiens genome is identical to the chimpanzee genome, our closest living relative. It is estimated that the Neandertal shares 96% of the 1% difference with Homo sapiens. The Neandertal shares the remaining 4% of the difference with the chimpanzee.

It will be fascinating to see what we learn about our own evolution, and what genes have undergone recent selection within the human genome, by getting something inbetween chimpanzees and humans to compare with. I also immediately wondered if it would be possible to get gene sequences from even older fossil species. I’m guessing that the older a fossil is, the less there is to work with. Still, I had no idea that sequencing a Neandertal genome was even a remote possibility.

For a little more insightful commentary, the anthropologist John Hawk’s blog has a write up on the project.

Update: I also noticed that the Questionable Authority has some nice comments on the project, explaining just how the genome comparisions can be put to use.

John Stewart had a recent piece where he took the news media to task (especially CNN) over their reporting on the middle east conflict.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it on YouTube or Google Video to include it in this post, but it is online at Comedy Central.

It’s hilarious, and I think you’ll get a big laugh from it.

No doubt you’ve heard. The senate passed the bill to allow for expanded federal funding of embryonic stem cell research and Bush vetoed it, the first such veto of his presidency.

I’m hot. Not even because of people’s positions but rather the hypocrisy I see permeating this issue. The issue is what to do with thousands (more than 400,000 actually) fertilized eggs that sit in frozen storage around the county, left over from in vitro fertilization (which produces many more fertilized eggs than are used in the women seeking to get pregnant). The bill would have allowed for federal funding towards research using stem cells from these fertilized eggs. Some view this as tantamount to murder.

The irony is that if someone really feels that way, then in vitro fertilization is, to put it most bluntly, killing a handful of lives to create one or two. Yet I’ve never heard the outraged screams against in vitro fertilization that we’ve heard these last few days over embryonic stem cells.

Christians simply cannot have it both ways. You cannot say that abortion or stem cell research is morally wrong, and then turn around the moment you can’t have children and say, “Thank God for in vitro fertilization!” as you run off to the clinic creating excess embryos, and then blissfully enjoy the new family without ever reflecting on how you got it. If people really believe that life starts at the moment of conception, they cannot simply make exceptions when it’s convenient for them.

What defies belief to me is Bush’s 2001 “compromise” over federal funding of stem cell research, where he decided to allow federal funding for existing stem cell lines, justifying the position as limiting research only to the cases “where the decision on life and death has already been made.” I’m sorry Mr. President. The decision on “life and death” (in his words) has already been made. There’s over 400,000 embryos waiting to be thrown in the trash, and apparently that’s a better option that using them with the aim of curing disease.

I do not wish to villify people that hold pro-life convictions. However, particularly in the stem cell debate, I think we’ve gotten terribly close to the Catholic idea that even birth control is sinful (a position I’m strongly opposed to). I’m sorry, I do thank God every day for birth control, and actively pray that it continues to be effective. If though one does not accept that there is a difference between a small clump of cells with the potential for life and a baby, then one must be consistent in that belief.

Yes, I obviously support embryonic stem cell research. But I’d like to think I’m humble enough to recognize that my opinion is not the only opinion. I can respect, though I disagree with, someone who holds the conviction that life begins at conception. It’s hard to respect that position however when it becomes so clearly contradictory.

In Florida comes the story of a young White Ibis that’s had some hard times lately.

juvenile White Ibis (Eudocimus albus) - photo source

It’s been shot with a practice arrow, though apparently no vital organs were hit. Authorities have been trying to catch it for two weeks, with no luck. They’ve given up, but beleive the arrow is working its way out on its own.

“I have captured hundreds of birds,” said Bob Hunt, a volunteer with the Bird Rescue Center in New Smyrna Beach. “You would think this would be one of the easier ones.”

Yes Bob you would think. But perhaps the bird has learned that people aren’t his best friend? Perhaps?

(Hat tip to The Birdchaser.)

Purchase at Amazon

Just before I came back from thesis work, I finished up Finding Darwin’s God, by Ken Miller. Miller is a biochemist at Brown University who’s coauthored the Prentice Hall biology textbook used by roughly a third of U.S. high school and college students. He’s also a tireless defender of science education and widely gives talks and interviews on the subject. For example, his testimony in the Kitzmiller v Dover trial on intelligent design last year was particularly devastating to the defense. As such, he’s one of the most prominent Christians in the field of biology.

Why do science?

Early in the book, Miller asks the question - Why do science and why trust it? How can we know that the methods we use to study the solar system, or more to the point of his book — the Earth’s past — are trustworthy?

He gives a very exciting example. In the early 1800’s, scientists noticed that the sun’s visible spectrum included a series of black bars or gaps at precise locations within the spectrum. These became known as Fraunhofer lines, after the German physicist Joseph von Fraunhofer.

Fraunhofer lines from a solar spectrum

Scientists soon discovered that the lines corresponded with the presence of certain chemical elements. So for example, a scientist in the lab could produce dark lines at a precise location (wavelength) within a visible spectrum for a given element — say sodium. Seeing that these same lines existed for the same location within the solar spectrum, scientists deduced that sodium must be present in the sun. (And to be more precise, for many elements it’s a series of lines, not just one).

Quickly, in the lab, element after element was found to correspond to specific Fraunhofer lines in the sun’s solar spectrum, and we amassed a list of what the sun’s made of, though no one’s ever been to the sun, and indeed, no one will be taking a sample anytime soon.

The only problem was that a pesky line was found at 587.5 nanometers (in the yellow region of the spectrum) that nobody could reproduce in the laboratory. Scientists realized that this line was caused by element not yet discovered on earth — an element they named helium (from the Greek word “helios” meaning “sun“).

And thus helium was discovered in the sun some 30 years before it was found on earth, though the sun is 93 million miles away. (And naturally once discovered on earth, Helium gives a Fraunhofer line at the expected location of 587.5 nanometers in a visible spectrum).

Miller’s hope, with examples such as these, are that people will see the justification for the assumptions of science — that the laws of nature are consistent and apply universally. That Fraunhofer line at 587.5 nanometers in the sun could be caused by solar elves having a barbeque instead of helium. But it just happens to have been observed on earth 30 years later with seemingly the same properties, just like the rest of the elements.

On Christian objections to evolution

Miller then begins to go through the various types of Christian objections to evolutionary theory. He groups them roughly into young earth creationism, old earth creationism, and intelligent design. He analyzes each and, not surprisingly, finds their arguments to have weak or no scientific basis. Miller spends some time discussing the biochemical objections to evolution (as put forth by Michael Behe), since Miller himself is a biochemist. Honestly this part can be a little tedious. If one is interested in these debates, the information is freely available through the internet, and for someone with a background in science, there’s a lot of familiar information to review. Refreshingly though, Miller’s treats these opponents with respect, recognizing that they share a Christian faith and that some of them (though perhaps not all) honestly represent their beliefs.

Besides looking at the science of creationism however, Miller examines the theological implications of these Christian worldviews. Here, my enjoyment of the book was immense, as I’ve come to many of the same conclusions on how I relate my understanding of science (and evolutionary biology in particular) to my Christian faith.

When it comes to being a Christian scientist, Miller argues for the most fundamental and obvious of understandings — that we can trust what we see in the natural world around us (like Fraunhofer lines). What this means is that light coming from distant stars in the universe is a trustworthy record of our universe’s past and bones in the ground amid layers of rock are a trustworthy record of the earth’s history. This is in opposition to young earth creationists like Henry Morris who have advocated merely an appearance of age. They admit that the evidence looks a certain way, but simply hold that God made it look that way at the moment of creation. The theological implications with this view of God are enormous, as Miller points out. This view makes God out to be a liar (Miller’s word is charlatan) where everything we see around us is at its core a fraud. As I’ve been saying, why not believe that the universe is 5 minutes old, and that our memories (like light from distant stars and bones in the ground) were given to us at the moment of creation.

Throughout the book when examining these objections to evolutionary biology, Miller points out a ripe irony — that some Christians feel as though they can find God by showing science’s failure to explain some area of the natural world. If science can’t explain it, then God must have done it! Essentially, this view seems to hold that God exists only in our ignorance. When we discover how something works scientifically, God is now removed from the equation. This is a game that atheists are happy to play. In effect, they agree wholeheartedly with these Christians. Science or God but not both. I have long been saying that as Christians, if we truly believe that God’s real, we have absolutely nothing to fear from science. Science can only illuminate our understandings, bringing us closer to God.

Thus the first two hundred pages establish that evolution is a powerful scientific theory with broad support across the various subdisciplines of biology and that the objections of from its critics are scientifically baseless and their worldviews ill-founded.

Scientists who object to religion

Miller does not limit his criticism solely to creationists however. He also spends some time discussing the more forceful pronouncements of atheism done in the name of evolutionary biology. Folks like Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennet. I think many readers will appreciate this discussion simply because Miller criticizes both sides for using God or science unfairly, as a weapon to beat their opponents rather than a search for the truth. Certainly Miller is not saying that the only outcome of being a scientist should be belief in God. (I agree with him — we’ll get into free will later.) Rather, he’s saying that those who’ve come to the conclusion that God does not exist cannot support that claim purely from science. Properly done, science really is neutral to the question of God’s existence.

Where evolution and God meet

So how is evolution consistent with God’s power? Miller argues for the idea of free will. Not only did God extend free will to humanity, but indeed he extended free will to all of creation. At the core, his argument is that we can only have a meaningful relationship with God if that relationship is truly our choice. I like this analogy, as we can apply it to our own relationships. If my wife had no other choice than to love me, her love really wouldn’t be worth much. It’s the fact that she gives her love freely, though at any moment she could choose to withdraw it, that makes my relationship with her so valuable.

In the same way, Miller argues that God does not manipulate his creation. Neither humans who can choose to reject him, nor his creation which in it’s freedom produces the beauty we see around us. Miller imagines God’s desire to have a relationship with his creation as the ultimate goal, not bipedal primates named Homo sapiens. That is to say what we looked like and when we arrived was not God’s ultimate concern. Now this is undoubtedly a hard pill to swallow for some Christians who believe that God had humanity in mind from the beginning. But I would encourage anyone to read the book, because whether you agree with Miller or not, his view is very thought provoking, and is certainly consistent with the idea of an active God working our lives.

Miller further supports the idea of free will by comparing it with naturalistic determinism. Speaking on the implications of quantum theory, he suggests that nature itself really is indeterminate. As anybody with an undergrad degree in science does, I understand what quantum theory is. It’s that unfathomably mathematical theory nobody understands which describes the really small. If it’s right, then it means that at nature’s core, things do not march along inevitably on a fixed path. It’s not simply that we need to learn more or take better measurements. But rather that we truly can’t know.

For me personally, one of the most comforting aspects of understanding God to work through natural laws (like evolution) is a new found view of suffering. The God who creates our genetic code, base by base, and then throws in horrible genetic diseases is a sadist. The God who interrupts the laws of nature when it suits him but doesn’t lift a finger to relieve the pain from an approaching Tsunami is a tyrant. The God who places free will of the utmost importance on the other hand, is a God that values the authenticity and freedom of all that he’s made. He values it so much, that he places it above the hardships that come along with it. This is Miller’s point, or perhaps more precisely, what I took from it.

While the book’s not likely to solve the split in American life between evolution and religion (a wedge that’s been driven deep for over a century), it does offer an alternative to the wretched and mutually exclusive dichotomy of science or God. For a lot of people it’s both, and it’s a wonderful view of the world indeed.

Update: After publishing this review, I realized I had left something out. You can find the last chapter of Finding Darwin’s God online. It will give you an idea of what the book is like, and is well worth a read. I originally read this material months before reading the book, and didn’t find it to diminish my enjoyment of the book in any way. I think you’ll agree.

Newsweek carried a depressing article this morning. It seem that if parents are tired of God’s little angels, they can send them off to creation camp for the summer. And naturally for those so inclined, there’s an atheist camp for the little tikes too.

Now I know this shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise to me. I imagine there’s a summer camp for just about every demographic imaginable, including vegan black angus cattle ranching children. But it’s downright depressing and for a couple of reasons.

First, it just deepens the divide that much further. Apparently before the kids are even ready to fight about it, there parents are stirring the pot. I understand (and strongly support) teaching your kids values as they grow up. But creation camp? Why don’t we just start making the villains in two year old’s stories field biologists.

Secondly, if you’re indoctrinating your kid in this way from a young age, it’s going to be a very painful process for both you and them when they start asking questions. For example, one of the organizations mentioned in the article also offers a dinosaur dig.

Experience a paleontology dig in a protected setting. You’ll participate in uncovering several dinosaur skeletons. Along with working in the hands–on dig, you’ll learn about flood geology, the Biotic Message Theory, and visit local natural wonders!

Ah, a protected setting! Thank God. Those paleontologists are terrifying people.

Let me suggest something to these parents. If they think exposing their children to dinosaurs is going to convince them that we live in a world 6,000 years old, they may not have thought this out to its logical conclusion. These camps set the stage for a very painful process for any kid smart enough to read a few books and ask a few questions.

This is pain and misery — both for the kid and the family — that’s unnecessary.

And finally, I have one other objection to Christian summer camps. I think that many times, they take the euphoria that comes with sleep deprivation and turn it into the power of God. It’s a tough call. I’m not against having a bunch of Christian kids get together for a fun experience. But God does not exist (nor work most powerfully) only on summer vacations. And I think kids would do quite well to learn this message, starting from their parents.