Have you heard of the book, The Year of Living Biblically? The subtitle pretty well explains the premise: One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible.
So, yep, that’s what this guy, A.J. Jacobs, does. With an authenticity and steadfastness that one can’t help but admire, he starts off with the prohibition against wearing clothes of mixed fibers (Leviticus 19:19) and goes on from there. When he stops shaving (Leviticus 19:27), he starts being called Ted Kaczyniski. Or ZZ Top. Or Moses. He wears all white (Ecclesiastes 9:8). He tries to make unleavened bread for Passover by walking around with dough in a Ziploc bag on his back (just like the Israelites, sans the baggy, of course!)
Besides just being a great read (funny, informative, unique), it stopped me in my tracks a couple of times. The first is when the author speaks of creationism. First—some back story—he’s basically a secular Jew who tends toward agnosticism. During the year he wrote the book, he did a fair amount of research into Creationism. As a stalwart believer in evolution normally, he tries to believe in Creationism in its most literal sense (the world created in just six 24-hour days, the earth being just a few thousand years old, etc.). Here’s what he says:
I convince myself that the earth was formed a handful of generations ago. I can’t 100 perfect believe, but for a few minutes, I almost believe. And it is fascinating. The first thing I notice is that I feel more connected. If everyone on earth is descended from two identifiable people—Adam and Even—then the “family of man” isn’t just pabulum [Note from Mitzi: I had to look up pabulum. It basically means food]….But even more powerful is this feeling: My life is more significant.
If the earth is ten billion years old, I’m barely a drop of water in the ocean that is the universe….I believe that’s a key motivation to creationism: the need to feel less inconsequential.
Wow. Think about it-- from the very first Sunday school lesson when we’re very very young, we’re taught: You are special. You are created in the image of God. God created you to love you. God has a special plan for you.
I grew up believing this and still believe it. I don’t think any of us are cosmic accidents. My point isn’t to argue literal creationism vs. Darwinian evolution, but to think about how I would feel if I didn’t have that foundation of “specialness.” Jacobs calls this the “need to feel less consequential” and maybe that’s part of it. But if I do what Jacobs did in reverse—try to convince myself that this is no God, no intelligent design, no deity of any sort who put the world into being, but just a unfathomable amount of time and energy and somehow I (and you and all of us) sprang into being. Well I can’t imagine anything more lonely and--in the core of my being—anything more frightening. Thinking that way makes me feel like I’m peering into a giant dark abyss and I could very well fall—or jump—and no one would notice. Reading that made me realize how my faith and belief in God are so central to not only who I am, but also the filter through which I experience everything.
And it also makes me curious as to how others see the world. What are you thoughts? If you became a Christian later in life, was this idea of “God created you. You are special and unique” hard to grasp? Or maybe it was a relief to hear what you’d suspected all along? Or perhaps it's something you still struggle with?
Mitzi Sandman, Adult Ministries Council Member
So, yep, that’s what this guy, A.J. Jacobs, does. With an authenticity and steadfastness that one can’t help but admire, he starts off with the prohibition against wearing clothes of mixed fibers (Leviticus 19:19) and goes on from there. When he stops shaving (Leviticus 19:27), he starts being called Ted Kaczyniski. Or ZZ Top. Or Moses. He wears all white (Ecclesiastes 9:8). He tries to make unleavened bread for Passover by walking around with dough in a Ziploc bag on his back (just like the Israelites, sans the baggy, of course!)
Besides just being a great read (funny, informative, unique), it stopped me in my tracks a couple of times. The first is when the author speaks of creationism. First—some back story—he’s basically a secular Jew who tends toward agnosticism. During the year he wrote the book, he did a fair amount of research into Creationism. As a stalwart believer in evolution normally, he tries to believe in Creationism in its most literal sense (the world created in just six 24-hour days, the earth being just a few thousand years old, etc.). Here’s what he says:
I convince myself that the earth was formed a handful of generations ago. I can’t 100 perfect believe, but for a few minutes, I almost believe. And it is fascinating. The first thing I notice is that I feel more connected. If everyone on earth is descended from two identifiable people—Adam and Even—then the “family of man” isn’t just pabulum [Note from Mitzi: I had to look up pabulum. It basically means food]….But even more powerful is this feeling: My life is more significant.
If the earth is ten billion years old, I’m barely a drop of water in the ocean that is the universe….I believe that’s a key motivation to creationism: the need to feel less inconsequential.
Wow. Think about it-- from the very first Sunday school lesson when we’re very very young, we’re taught: You are special. You are created in the image of God. God created you to love you. God has a special plan for you.
I grew up believing this and still believe it. I don’t think any of us are cosmic accidents. My point isn’t to argue literal creationism vs. Darwinian evolution, but to think about how I would feel if I didn’t have that foundation of “specialness.” Jacobs calls this the “need to feel less consequential” and maybe that’s part of it. But if I do what Jacobs did in reverse—try to convince myself that this is no God, no intelligent design, no deity of any sort who put the world into being, but just a unfathomable amount of time and energy and somehow I (and you and all of us) sprang into being. Well I can’t imagine anything more lonely and--in the core of my being—anything more frightening. Thinking that way makes me feel like I’m peering into a giant dark abyss and I could very well fall—or jump—and no one would notice. Reading that made me realize how my faith and belief in God are so central to not only who I am, but also the filter through which I experience everything.
And it also makes me curious as to how others see the world. What are you thoughts? If you became a Christian later in life, was this idea of “God created you. You are special and unique” hard to grasp? Or maybe it was a relief to hear what you’d suspected all along? Or perhaps it's something you still struggle with?
Mitzi Sandman, Adult Ministries Council Member
