So what are we to make of Intelligent Design? Perhaps a glimpse at life between two offshoots of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) can give us insight. Take a look at the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) and the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA).
These two denominations hold many beliefs in common: adherence to the inerrancy of Scripture, subscription to five point Calvinism, opposition to higher criticism, rejection of women’s ordination, repudiation of modernism and post-modernism. Yet they remain separate denominations. Why?
One reason: They do not read the first chapter of the Bible in quite the same way.
While both denominations allow some latitude in interpretation, the PCA leans toward a literal, scientific chronological reading of the six days of creation. Ordination candidates who question whether the world was created in 144 hours about 6,000 years ago risk disqualification.
The OPC takes a less certain view. While some of its clergy and elders hold to six 24-hour periods of creation, “those who hold to the day-age theory or framework hypothesis argue that the biblical text is inconclusive as to the length of the days …” They add that the Westminster Confession (and its catechisms) does not require exacting agreement, so “there must be latitude in this area.” Yes, the OPC allows latitude in interpretation; see their Web site: http://www.opc.org/qa.html?question_id=131 .
Note the two kinds of latitude they affirm. One suggests that each of the six days may constitute an indeterminate length of time. The other, the “framework hypothesis,” requires more explanation.
Old Testament scholar Meredith G. Kline, a conservative’s conservative, first propounded the “framework hypothesis.” He proposed the idea that the original writer(s) of Genesis 1 constructed the creation story in a classical Hebrew poetry style, using parallel structuring. He compared the first three days–the creation of light, sky, sea, and land–to the second three days–the creation of sun, moon, and stars to rule the light, of birds and fish to rule the sky and sea, and of animals to rule the land. Ultimately, God entrusts final oversight to the humans, directing them to “be fruitful, multiply, replenish the earth and subdue it.”
Given the poetic structure, Kline suggested that the intent of the first writing of the text was not scientific in modern terms nor even in ancient terms. It does not outline the mechanisms, the constituting elements, the sequence, or the timing of God’s creative work. Any attempt to find such data in Genesis 1 imposes foreign meanings upon the text.
The biblical account of creation conveys more profound meanings: that the creation was spoken into being by the eternal God; that God weaved structures of authority into the creation; that God has granted enormous authority and stewardship accountability to humans (which we learn in Genesis 3ff. can be exploited to the detriment of all).
While most mainline Presbyterians will dispute the literal six-day interpretation, we could profit from studying Genesis 1 in conversation with framework hypothesis proponents. Such conversations may not satisfy all questions about evolution and creation (its proponents tend to take Genesis 2 more literally than Genesis 1), but its approach to cosmology can liberate scientists to ply their trade at observing and analyzing dinosaurs and chromosomes, galaxies and quarks. At the same time it could liberate theologians and preachers to focus attention on intended meanings of biblical texts rather than fighting school boards about science textbook choices.
In the midst of such conversations, we all will want to affirm that an intelligent, yea, an omniscient Designer did “spin the whirling planets,” and that the artful task of exploring, experimenting and pondering creation’s wonders can inspire us to gather in worship with scientists and even with fellow Christians in those offshoot denominations.
