First Sunday in Lent A
February 10, 2008
Evolution Sunday
Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7
Psalm 32
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
As the choir director and I stood around the new organ last Thursday, looking it over, admiring it, touching it here and there the way you would admire and gently touch a new born baby, I heard myself say to him (and I think it’s just as important to hear what I say as it is to hear what is said to me), I said that I had forgotten the language of music. Specifically how to read that language. When I was in seminary I had to learn to play two hymns on the piano to complete a not-for-credit class that I sacrificed a whole semester of Saturday mornings to take. I learned those two hymns. But I’ve forgotten how to play them now.
I had six years of Spanish under my belt by the time I finished high school but when I got to seminary a good many years later, I had forgotten it. So I studied Spanish for three more years and I’ve forgotten most of it since then. I spent three years studying art, paid a big price to do it too. I learned the mechanics of art like perspective and color. The purpose of shadows and light. I learned about technique and the tools an artist uses to make art and how to incorporate all those things and use them effectively. I haven’t really forgotten all that but I’m so sluggish in my use of it that I have to say it’s another language I don’t participate in anymore either. Then there are the languages of math and science, each with its own words and symbols. Those languages are so big and growing so rapidly, even what I have learned is barely useful to me now except to recognize those languages when I see them or hear them. But I wouldn’t trade the opportunity to have learned them as a kid in school for anything. That would be such a loss!
As religious folk, specifically Christians, we accept the creation story of Genesis as an ancient expression of the way a people imagined the beginning of the relationship between their Creator and themselves. In that story, God the Creator spoke creation into being. God said, "Let there be…" and behold, there was. The creation story conveys to us the truth of a loving God who called the world and all its creatures into being for no other reason than it pleased God to do so. And when the human creatures disobeyed God, God dealt with their disobedience but never abandoned relationship with them. The relationship was apparently too important to God for that. Christians and Jews alike value our scriptures because to us they are the language that best expresses, with all its nuances, the relationship between Creator and creature, and the truth of not only the existence of that relationship but the importance of it to humankind.
Lately, I have grown fond of the phrase, The Language of God, which is the title of Francis Collins’ book. The subtitle is, "A scientist presents evidence for belief." It is a well-articulated reconciliation of science and religion from the perspective of a man who started his career as a scientist with the belief that while religion had long been useful for inspiring people to create beautiful art and poetry, it held no foundational truth. With the help of time and C.S. Lewis, Collins reasoned himself into a Christian. What he referred to in his book as the language of God is human
On this second annual Evolution Sunday which is being observed in 800 congregations across all 50 states and 9 countries, preachers are saying to their congregations, there is no conflict between religion and science. Even though it is our vocation to teach and grow the acceptance of religious truth we don’t want to replace the truth of science taught to our children anymore than we want sports to replace music and drama. Nor would we want to deny them the opportunity to learn any foreign language they are interested in learning just because English is the dominant language of this country.
I like thinking of science and religion as languages or better yet as dialects within a larger language of God. Everything in the created order has its own language, its own mode of expression, even inanimate objects. The space the vestry and I stayed in for our retreat had a language. It communicated something to us that we could all perceive. It had a kind of voice that told us something about its human creators, about the purpose of the space. The space said, ‘Welcome. Make yourself at home," without the space’s creators having to say it, (though they did anyway.)
It might be more palatable to say science and religion are both languages within a larger truth of life than to say they are two separate truths as was said in the clergy letter that I signed along with more than 11,000 other clergy. For me to say that, represents the evolution of my own thinking since last year. I believe everything in the created order evolves in one way or another, including me. I thank God for that and I also thank science for giving me the concept to come to that conclusion.
The work of the Church, particularly for Episcopalians is reconciliation. That’s our mission. To reconcile the world and its people to God in Christ. A good way for us to do that is to embrace all the languages now present in creation and be open to embracing new languages when they are discovered. The temptation of Jesus in today’s Gospel reminds us that we face temptation simply because we are human. The great temptation that draws us away from our mission is to choose one language over the other. To say only one is right and good and true. To say the language of the scriptures is the only language that expresses the origin of humankind, not only puts tight limits on human reason it puts limits on God. To say science is the only true language – that there is nothing worth knowing that cannot be tested and proved by scientific method is equally as limiting. It negates thousands of years of human perception of the presence of God at work in creation, to heal, renew and restore it.
I’ve been very aware lately, since we are to use the season of Lent to bring our sins into consciousness so we can confess them, how many of them have to do with nuances of language, with word choice, tone of voice and the physical gestures that accompany them. I have been surprised at myself how the gift of the new organ and the whole process of receiving and appreciating that gift has helped me to grow in my appreciation of the language of God, the language of all creation with its many distinct dialects. With all its many voices, that one musical instrument embodies a host of others. I understand how those who know how to play it can love it so. If only the church could embrace its many voices as effectively as an organ does!
The goal for us all this season of Lent is to grow closer to God and to the people in our lives by acknowledging our sins and asking God to help us change our mind or repent from those sins so that we can live our lives as fully as God intends. A good way to begin is to be open to all the languages of God present in the world about us; to give ourselves permission to accept what we don’t understand, and refuse to accept any of the unique expressions present in creation, science, art, religion, philosophy, music, or anything else as the only truth worth learning. There will always be more yet to be known than is known now by anyone. That ought to humble us before God and help us to know ourselves as creatures in the midst of God’s vast continually creative work in the world. And help us to look upon that creative work with the wonder and awe worthy of God alone.
