Teenage boys fell hopelessly in love with tail-finned, pastel-colored, mechanized pieces art in the 1950’s, the honeymoon of the American car culture. The caress of the large diameter steering wheel of a mid-fifties automobile released an infusion of freedom and independence.
I had just turned eight when my oldest brother, Tom, received his driver’s license—his “rite of passage” into manhood. Mom and Dad scraped together a few hundred dollars and purchased a boxy 1949 Plymouth for Tom to drive. With all of us active in afterschool programs, Tom was commissioned to drive us home each evening. As number three of four boys, the natural pecking order required that Steve and I sit in the back seat while Dave, number two son, claimed shot gun Number One son drove. I didn’t care, as long as I got to go along with my older brothers. I believed riding with my brothers made me a teenager by proxy.
One evening as we warbled “Yakety Yak” along with the Coasters on the AM radio, its paper speaker rattling at full volume, Tom suddenly threw both hands in the air and shouted, “Watch this! No Hands!” I sucked for air and leaned forward, straining to see the road. Even though his hands were in the air, that ol’ Plymouth continued along the graveled road like it was on rails. I gasped as it successfully negotiated the gentle right-hander at the bottom of the hill near our house, as though unseen hands had replaced Tom’s. Just as we were at our driveway, he grabbed the wheel, jerked it hard to the right, and slid to a stop.
“How’d you do that?” I shouted.
“Magic, Ronnie! Magic!” he said with a grin.
And I believed him. After all, he was twice my age and I respected him. Tom, twice my age was gentle natured and always treated me kindly. I had grown to trust his chip-toothed smile, so if Tom said it was magic, I believed him. I was further astonished that Dave, riding shot gun, never flinched as he thumbed through his Hot Rod magazine, obviously unaware that we’d just entered the twilight zone!
As we filed toward the back porch, I asked Dave, “How’d he do that?” He looked at me for a moment, smirked and said, “He was driving with his knees, dummy!” I stopped in my tracks and tried to picture how that could be. I decided to stay with Tom’s explanation: it had to be magic.
When we encounter experiences or situations that defy reason, it may seem easier to justify magic over reason—just like an eight year old. One of the most obvious tensions for Christians today is the clash between science and the Bible. It’s easy to prove what we can see, but Bible believers believe in things that are not yet see-able. Where did the dinosaurs come from? And where did Adam’s sons find their wives? And who are the giants in the land that married the sons of men, Were they Adam’s granddaughters? What’s up with all that stuff? Have you ever tried to successfully argue that stuff with a science-geek? It’ll make you feel foolish, pretty quickly.
God is. Science is. How do the two cohabitate in this universe—in all the universes for that matter? The Bible tells us that God is the ultimate scientist and I believe it.
“For the invisible things of him since the creation of the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made, even his everlasting power and divinity; that they may be without excuse.” Romans 1:20 (American Standard Version)
Here’s the deal: God and science don’t clash. God is the author of science and uses it to accomplish all He is accomplishing. God has never used magic to accomplish creation. He uses science. Have you ever consider that every proven (emphasis on the word PROVEN) scientific discovery is actually an unveiling of God’s methods? Science is never new information to God… it’s His information! I’m convinced there is no magic in all God’s working, only pure, unadulterated science, much of which we are yet to discover. The more science uncovers, the more God will be glorified.
Lord, thank You for the glorious complexity of Your creation. Please continue to reveal Yourself through the incredible details of science. Help us to relax with the unknown, because we know You. Amen.
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.