Here is the rest of my book review of Karl Giberson’s book, Saving the Original Sinner.
Chapter 6: The Origin of Mrs. Cain (and the Posse that Chased her Husband)
In chapter 6, Giberson takes us on a brief jaunt through the 16th and 17th centuries. The overall gist of the chapter is that with the emergence of the scientific revolution and the age of exploration, the assumption that Adam and Eve were historical figures became more entrenched. At the same time, though, that didn’t stop people from using the story of Adam and Eve in a variety of ways.
In this chapter, we are given a glimpse into the world in which men like Copernicus, Vesalius, Columbus, Erasmus, Luther, John Donne, and John Milton lived. We also learn that men like Jacob Palaeologus (1520-1585) were actually “beheaded for claiming that not everyone had inherited original sin” (94). We also learn about Isaac La Peyrere (1596-1676), who claim that Genesis had two creation stories—and that the second story was that of the origins of the Jewish people; Adam was the first Jewish man—1500 years after the Apostle Paul had taken the figure of Adam from his Jewish roots and universalized him to illustrate that Christ came to save all humanity, people were starting to realize that in its Jewish context, the story of Adam was originally about the Jewish people.
Chapter 7: The First Man and the First Minute: Adam and the Age of the Earth
In chapter 7, Giberson discusses how the people of the scientific revolution first addressed the issue of the age of the earth. Many people have heard about Bishop James Ussher, who added up the genealogies in Genesis and concluded that God created the universe in 4004 BC. Yet there were others at that time who were also speculating on the age of the universe. Bishop James Lightfoot (1601-1675) said it began in 3928 BC; Isaac Newton put it right at 4000 BC; and Johannes Kepler dated the beginning of the universe at 3977 BC.
The reason for this type of speculation should be obvious. As Giberson notes, these men “and others in their century believed that God had inspired a Bible without error, even in its references to history, geography, and the natural sciences” (101). Such assumptions at that time should not be surprising. In the middle of the scientific revolution, it would only be natural for people to bring their scientific assumptions into the Bible. Therefore, as Giberson notes, there became an increasing attempt to reconcile Genesis 1-11 with the new scientific learning that was sweeping the West. This is known as concordism—and it is from this that various attempts (i.e. Day-Age theory, Gap theory) to get Genesis 1 to “jive” with science came.
Yet such attempts were (and are) ultimately unnecessary. As Giberson states, “The Christian tradition had never emphasized the most natural reading of Genesis as important. Nothing really was at stake. No creed, for example, had ever enshrined twenty-four-hour days or a young earth, and some important figures like Augustine had even argued that the creation week was an anthropomorphism, pointing out the absurdity of God needing any time at all, and the even greater absurdity of God taking a rest after six days” (118).
Chapter 8: Too Many Adams? Or None At All?
I find chapter 8 to be one of the most fascinating chapters in the book. Giberson takes us to the 19th century, and the emergence of Darwin’s theory of evolution. Yet Darwin’s theory was not the only thing that revolutionized how we see creation (and subsequently Genesis 1-11). The other major discovery was that of certain documents of the ancient Near East, namely the creation myths of Gilgamesh, Atrahasis, and the Enuma Elish. Together, these two things sent tremors throughout the scientific and religious communities of Europe and America.
The discovery of the creation stories of the ancient Near East showed that Genesis 1-11 shared the same literary characteristics as these stories, and therefore challenged modern assumptions that Genesis 1-11 was “doing modern science.”
The other point of contention is with Darwin’s theory. It is fascinating to find that reaction to Darwinism was mixed, but not in the ways you would expect. Some scientists like Louis Agassiz initially rejected Darwin’s theory, whereas some theologians like B.B. Warfield accepted it as a way that describe the means by which God creates the world. Warfield even argued that evolution fit into John Calvin’s theology fairly well. In addition, George Frederick Wright (1838-1921) “found Darwin’s theory not merely compatible with Christianity but also theologically helpful” (131), and Asa Gray was “America’s leading evolutionist and another conservative Christian” (133).
As a way of simplifying reactions to Darwinism, Giberson points out three basic reactions. Modernists argued that evolution proved the Bible was all “myth,” not true, and that Christianity must change to fit the times. Fundamentalists went in the other direction and rejected all scholarship that threatened what they felt were the fundamentals of the Christian faith. (Now, it should be noted that for even the original Fundamentalists, even though they insisted on inerrancy, the resurrection, the virgin birth, and the existence of miracles—they did not consider evolution to threaten the those fundamentals). Finally, there the Traditionalists, who tried to embrace science, but avoided the liberal slide.
Although these designations are helpful, I find them to still be slightly problematic, for the reason I just said in the above paragraph: many of the Fundamentalists had no problem with evolutionary theory.
Chapter 9: Mark of Cain, Curse of Ham: Is God a Racist?
In chapter 9, Giberson takes the reader on a tour through the dark side of racism. Contrary to the claims of Ken Ham, the racism of the 19th century was not an evolutionary phenomenon. Racism existed in all walks of life, and some of the most ardent racists were so-called Christians who used the Bible to support things like slavery. If ever there was a chapter that blew a hole through this claim by Ken Ham, chapter 9 is it.
In a moment of extreme irony, Giberson opens chapter 9 with a quote from Bob Jones Sr., the founder of Bob Jones University: “God never meant to have one race. It was not His purpose at all. God has a purpose for each race” (135). This is ironic because Ken Ham is one of Bob Jones University’s biggest promoters. Why? Because BJU press puts out young earth creationism curriculum. Why is that ironic? Simple: Ham routinely accuses evolutionists for promoting the idea of “polygenesis”—that there are different human races, and that the white race is superior. And yet the founder of Bob Jones University promoted that very idea, and used the Bible to justify it.
Bob Jones wasn’t alone in his “biblically-backed” racist views. In 1845, the Southern Baptists and Northern Baptists split over the issue of slavery, with the Southern Baptists supporting slavery, and using Cain’s curse to support it. Southern Baptist Buckner Payne wrote a book in 1867 entitled, The Negro: What is His Ethnological Status, in which he argued that negroes were on Noah’s ark, but they were nothing more than animals. He said, “The negro was in the ark; and God thus testifies that he has no soul” (141).
Even as recent as 1998, Bob Jones University refused admission of students who had intermarried with “another race.” Such an act, BJU claimed, “breaks down the barriers God has established,” and “mixes that which God separated and intends to keep separate” (143). Ironically, Ken Ham promotes them, and continues to blame evolution for the idea of separate races. Why is that? It should be obvious, BJU press published young earth creationism curriculum, and belief in a young earth covers over a multitude of sins…at least in Ken Ham’s eyes.
Chapter 10: The Creationist Uber-Adam: Why the First Son Could Marry His Sister
If chapter 9 is the most fascinating chapter in Giberson’s book, chapter 10 comes in a close second. Starting with George McCready-Price, and making his way through Henry Morris, and all the way up to Ken Ham, Giberson focuses on the modern 20th-21st century young creationist movement, and it exposes some of the truly bizarre claims it makes.
As Giberson points out, the basic argument(s) of the YEC movement revolve around variations of McCready-Price’s flood geology, a call for Christians to reject “compromise” (meaning, of course, the basic findings of modern science), and an insistence that the Bible was to be read “naturally,” or as Giberson puts it, “like it was just published in English and contained nothing requiring specialized training to understand” (149). By saying they are just reading the Bible “naturally,” young earth creationists do not believe that they are even “interpreting” the Bible.
As far as YEC’s understanding of Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden, and the Fall, it is truly astounding: before the Fall, the serpent walked upright and had the ability to speak; humans had a perfect genome (that’s why Cain was able to marry his sister); and it was the Fall that initiated the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics.
Two young earth creationist proponents that deserve special mention are Dr. Ken Hovind and Carl Baugh. Hovind wrote a dissertation for Patriot Bible University (an unaccredited correspondence school) “claiming that the snake in the Garden of Eden taught Adam and Eve about evolution and that Augustine was a theistic evolutionist” (156). As for Baugh, his degrees are from unaccredited universities, and he claimed that before Noah’s flood “radio stars would have sung to man each morning” (156).
The topic of chapter 10 could have been a book in and of itself. But judging from just the little bit that Giberson shares about the claims and beliefs of YEC should make it quite obvious: “bizarre” does not even begin to describe YEC claims.
Chapter 11: Science, Antiscience, and the Extinction of Adam
In chapter 11, Giberson takes the reader full circle, to the dilemma he introduced back in the introduction: the danger the YEC movement poses for the Evangelical community.
After briefly describing a number of scientific discoveries that simply obliterate YEC supposed scientific claims, Giberson then points out that many of the theological arguments against evolution are the exact same arguments that were levied against Copernicus’ claims of a heliocentric universe: it upsets Christian theology, and it conflicts a literal understanding of the early chapters of Genesis. It is at this point that Giberson delivers quite a “zinger” at Ken Ham concerning Ham’s claims that if there is life on other planets, they would not be able to be saved—but I do not want to spoil it.
As one reads the last few pages of the book, one can feel the obvious hurt Giberson still feels from being so mistreated by the YEC movement. It is something to which I can certainly relate. Yet when Giberson says, “Anyone challenging the historicity of Adam should probably abandon evangelicalism, since they are likely to be ejected anyway” (170), and “The fundamentalists always win” (174), I don’t want to say that yet. That is quite ironic because I joined the Orthodox Church in 2006, and am no longer technically an “Evangelical.”
Still, I spent 16 years teaching in Evangelical high schools, and even though I’ve been burned twice by certain administrators, most of the Evangelical Christians I’ve worked with and known throughout my life do not see the issue of YEC as a fundamental, make or break issue. I’m still optimistic for the larger mass of Evangelical Christians. As for many of those in power—the “gate-keepers” as Giberson calls them—yes, I have to say I share Giberson’s sentiments. It is because of these current “gate-keepers” that Evangelicalism is, as Giberson states, in a state of crisis.
Conclusion
I found Saving the Original Sinner to be a wonderful book that provides a very insightful overview at how Christians throughout the past 2,000 years have read and interpreted the Adam and Eve story. If anyone want to get a mini-lesson in Church history on this topic, Giberson’s book is a good place to start. In addition to that, though, one will also have a firsthand account of the kind of pain and frustration many thoughtful, Christ-honoring, sincere Christians have suffered at the hands of—if I can sound very grade-schoolish—some people who are just mean.
If you have wrestled with the issues of the age of the earth and the historicity of Adam, Saving the Original Sinner is a great place to get your historical bearings.
