Dumb things we do

Jesus wasn’t crucified debating the age of the earth, but surprisingly this has become the hill to die on for some. If our goal is to persuade people to accept the validity of the Bible and believe in Jesus, I’m unconvinced that arguing about the age of the earth is productive -- we need to ask ourselves, do we want to lead people to Jesus or do we want to drive them away?

The argument over the age of the earth is pointless, in fact it is counterproductive to stubbornly insist we know better. We risk too much credibility when we stake our identity on asserting a definitive date and we ruin our reputation by trying to manipulate this inconsequential topic into something spiritual.

The Bible is inerrant and trustworthy. It has insights on nature, weather, nautical patterns, agriculture, ancient geography, and astronomy, yet the Bible is not a science textbook — therefore when we demand people agree to a specific age of the earth (which is immaterial to salvation) we do not draw people to the cross, we drive them away.

We need to remember the Bible is an inspired book, mainly about theology and worship. The Old Testament foretold, but withheld a specific date for “when” the Messiah would arrive. The New Testament predicts Jesus will return, without offering the exact date of “when.” A similar consideration is applicable regarding our opinion on the age of the universe.

Skeptics are right to dismiss us as anti-intellectuals when we misuse the Bible to make the case the universe is around 10,000 years old. The argument that the earth is only between 6000-10,000 years old seems disingenuous to me, I doubt our true motives; instead of proving the earth is young what we are really attempting to say is, “See, the earth is too young for evolution to be true.” Ouch.

Science isn’t the enemy of faith, agreeing the earth could be older isn’t heretical, instead believers become the enemy of faith when we make unsubstantiated conjectures about irrelevant topics that the Bible is silent on. It’s possible to disprove Darwinism, we don’t need to concern ourselves with guesstimating the irrelevant age of the world to address misguided and flawed evolutionary theories.

Instead of speculating on the age of the earth we should be asking non-believers, “Why is there a universe rather than nothing?” Why did life randomly “appear” and where are the supposed transitional fossils bridging the species?

We could also ask, why is DNA so complex and deeply encrypted with information, it obviously required intelligence in its design. We could also ask, why do we possess an overabundance of imagination & intelligence? Comprehending trigonometry or quantum physics doesn’t help us gather food, reproduce, or avoid the saber-tooth tiger. Our breadth of brainpower is unnecessary in the race for survival of the fittest.

Who really cares how old the universe is -- it’s not an ethical, moral, or legal matter and we are not defending the integrity of the Bible when we argue for something the Bible is silent on. That there is a universe which began with all the laws of physics instantaneously in place reveals a conscious choice was made to begin the cosmos, requiring a Creator.

Jesus seemed indifferent to the age of the world, nor did He compel us to debate it, instead He asked that we help Him save it. Arguing about the age of rocks doesn’t draw people to the Rock Of Ages.

Finally Finding out who really fathered me

 

(Left to right, me, Ken, Virgil, Cecil Cottongim.  It was the last time the three brothers saw each other)

For the life of me I'll never know why or understand Cecil, my dad, told me at the age of 11 that my mom had an affair with one of his brothers.  True or not, why would any adult tell their child about such a scandalous event, so close to home?  It seems demented to me to burden a child with this information.  Cecil didn't stop with that story either, he went on with countless stories of my mom's infidelity.  

Soon as an 11 year old I started doing the math, and the timing seemed awfully close to when the stork delivered me.  For over 40 years the question hung out there for me, who actually was my biological father, Cecil or his brother?  If you've known me long or well at all, you've heard me joke about this with phrases like "My uncle-daddy" and not being sure which one was my dad, the guy who raised me or his sinister brother who Cecil demonized till the day he died.  

Thanks to modern technology and the wonders of DNA, the big mystery is finally solved, Tammy gifted me with the 23 & me DNA test and tonight we read the results for the first time.  It's somewhat anticlimactic, after all I'm 55 years old, Cecil is dead, the living brother is in his 80's, and what would it really change if Cecil wasn't my "real" father?  

It turns out, all that awkwardness and questioning and curiosity I carried with me over the decades like a wooden-nickel was useless.  Cecil is my dad and his brother came out on the DNA test as "Uncle," it didn't read "Daddy-uncle" or anything close to daddy, much like my uncle said all of the many years, all along.  My uncle is my uncle and no more.  If you read this uncle, sorry I doubted you.  

Knowing the truth now feels weird.  I'm not happy or sad, nor disappointed or elated.  I didn't know what to expect, I didn't really consider how I would feel, one way or the other.  It just feels, weird.  Almost numb, but yes tonight, weird.   Maybe a little disoriented?

It is rather strange in a sense after these years of wondering about it to finally have a definitive answer, and I suppose you could say to have closure now too.  I guess I should feel embarrassed for considering, contemplating, or entertaining the idea that my uncle could've fathered me.  I need to forgive the 11 year old Craig who tried to make sense of a completely messed up situation.  Honestly, instead of feeling embarrassed, I'm more disappointed in Cecil for sharing the ugly family secret that my mom was unfaithful and for causing me so much self-doubt throughout my childhood and adult life.  

By no sense was I traumatized by this, it's dysfunctional but not detrimental, but the burden of carrying this question for so long and the tension and the fracture/division this caused ruptures family dynamics and has had ripple effects.  It caused me trust-issues with female relationships as a young adult, and it certainly disrupted family ties along the way.     

If there's a lesson to be learned here, some piece of wisdom I could distill and syphon off for you, I'm not aware of it yet.  I guess at this point I'd say, be cautious with what you burden your offspring with, be attentive to your spouses, and be willing to be proved wrong about ideas you hold to.