Seven years old, lying in my dark bedroom, saying a prayer to
God, I realized that my words were bouncing down from the ceiling and
hitting me in the face. God was not with me in my heart, but out
there somewhere—and there was a great blackness between us. I couldn’t
reach Him, and I knew, truly knew, it was my fault. Terror leaked
from my heart into every bone of my body, and suddenly I had to
run, to the light, to the safety of my parents’ presence in the living
room. I dropped to the floor and hugged my mother’s knees, looked up
into her face, and cried, “Oh, Mama! Something terrible is happening! I
have been praying to God, but He won’t hear me, and it’s all my
fault.”
Daddy jumped up off of the couch and turned off the TV. That
shocked me. I turned to him and begged, “Please, you’ve got to pray for
me!” At that moment my father uttered words that I didn’t think parents
were allowed to say to their children. “I can’t pray for you, Elaine.”
I turned toward my mother, and he said, “Your mother can’t pray for you
either.”
Mama intervened with the tenderest name she has for me. “Oh,
Laney, the Holy Spirit is calling you to repentance.”
My heart pounded as Daddy continued, “Your mother and I cannot
be saved for you. Only you can pray the prayer that is needed now. Go
back to your room and pray.” At that moment I panicked, “But what am I
supposed to say? I don’t know what to say!” The answer was
simple, “Tell God what’s in your heart.”
In anguish I returned to my bed and poured out my heart. “O
God, I hate this feeling, and I know it is my fault. Please, God,
please forgive me. I don’t ever want to feel like this again.” A warm
peace suffused my body, and I fell asleep as my life changed.
At that time we were Southern Baptists and held conservative
religious beliefs that included a Creator and a recent creation. These
beliefs were not challenged until my ninth-grade biology class, when I
had to write a report on the book On the Origin of Species by
Charles Darwin. At that time, I tended to read captions and introductory
and concluding paragraphs of each section, so I can’t even pretend to
have read the book. However, what I did read must have made me quite
furious. I know this because my teacher wrote on my paper,
“Elaine, don’t let one man’s ideas upset you so much.” I translated
that to mean, “Elaine, you are as smart as anyone else, so think for
yourself.” Words to live by and woe to my parents and teachers since
then!
During my ninth-grade year, a major change occurred that would
have a profound effect on my theology: a new pastor was hired at my
church. His first sermon was on creation, and he began by
telling us that we had misunderstood Genesis. I was startled. He didn’t
say we had misinterpreted the text but rather that we had not fully
understood its meaning. He then proceeded to introduce theistic
evolution to us. I was thrilled. I could merge my science and my Bible
without the least qualm. During that one sermon, I fully embraced the
concept and gave up my Creator for a “Divine Guide.” The theological
implications of such a transition are astounding, but 14-year-old girls
don’t know very much about theology. I quickly became a diehard
theistic evolutionist.
This change in my theology did not manifest itself in a
slipping and sliding away from God, and, although political bickering
within two different congregations had dampened my parents’ enthusiasm
for church attendance, my commitment to Him was as strong as ever.
Consequently, my father drove my brother and me to various church
meetings. When I turned 16, he gave me a car, and our church attendance
increased. God was very close to me during those years even as my
understanding of who He is became more confused.
As I neared high-school graduation, I was faced with a serious
problem. I was fairly certain that my father expected me to do one of
two things: get married or get a job. I wasn’t very keen on either
option, so I needed to buy some time. Attending college was the perfect
solution! As a science lover, I had no problem selecting a major—I
would study history. It doesn’t sound logical now, but at the time it
seemed quite logical. I didn’t have any plans because I was just biding
my time until I was ready to get a “real job” or else . . .
Things, however, did not go quite as I had planned. In the
second semester I was railroaded into a new class, Geology
Concepts for Teachers. Over my protests, the teacher ordered me to the
registrar’s office as he announced, “Elaine, what you need in your life
is academic discipline!” I grumbled all the way down the hall, not
realizing that minimum class size was fixed at eight, and I was
number eight. Mid-semester I changed my major to reflect my passion for
geology. My father was livid! His little girl was not going to work in
the oil fields! Things were not going as Dad had planned either.
The following year I took my first class on
fossils—invertebrate paleontology—the study of animals without a
backbone that have been preserved in the rocks. The course was
fascinating and included field trips. There was one trip I will never
forget. The hill was well exposed by a road cut, and we crawled
up the side of the hill noting the corals, snails, and clams buried in
the dirt. I was the first to reach the top, so I sat down to enjoy the
view. As I raised my left hand, I noticed something clinging to my palm
and looked to see what it was. The tiny rock was the size and shape of
a kernel of wheat, a Foraminifera, an extinct one-celled
marine animal. Putting my hands down into those forams then
lifting them up as they ran through my fingers like sand on a seashore,
I was stunned by the thought What kind of God do I serve? In
my theistic evolutionary world, these animals had lived and died
catastrophically before humans even existed. My heart exploded with
emotion. Who did this? Only One! The theological issue of
“death before sin” was raging in my mind. Did God create animals
with a life span? These animals had not lived out their lives!
God had not created things to die! No! No! This was not my God! My God
loves me! And I cried . . . and no one asked me why.
So I shelved it all. I refused to think about these issues
until about a year after my honeymoon. Daddy’s little girl had married
a wonderful young man and dropped out of school. We met at church, and
during our first year of marriage we began attending a Bible study that
was using the book The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal
Lindsey. We were excited! Jesus was coming very soon! We were
determined to learn more about these things, and that’s when The
Prophecy Crusade with evangelist Kenneth Cox came to our town.
The meetings were riveting, and the sermon outlines that were
provided for the attendees contained all the Bible texts that
were used each evening. We could hardly wait to get home after each
meeting. We would compare the texts with our book. The next evening we
would go to the question-and-answer session after the service, and I
would begin, “Hal Lindsey says,” and Pastor Cox would respond, “Let’s
see what the Bible has to say about that.”
As we continued to study, the entire Bible made sense for the
first time in our lives. The messages were life-giving meat for the
soul, and we were ecstatic about the things we were learning—until
Pastor Cox preached the sermon “Adam’s Mother’s Birthday.” There were
no questions that night. I marched down front and said, “You’re crazy!
You don’t even know what you’re talking about! I’m a geologist, and
life on this earth is at least 600 million years old!”
Pastor Cox only had one question, “Will you come back tomorrow
night? I have a book I’d like you to read.” I wasn’t interested,
and there was no reason to return. Then God inspired the pastor to
appeal to my greed (good old American capitalism). “I’ll give you the
book.” Dad always said nothing is truly free, but the cost for this book
was only one more lecture, so we went back for the book Creation:
Accident or Design? by Harold Coffin. Dr. Coffin wrote about
the rocks I had been studying for three years, but his interpretations
of the information were consistent with a conservative reading of
Scripture. I was up all night reading scattered paragraphs, back and
forth through the book. By morning I knew that the data was not
problematic; it was the interpretations that I had blindly accepted as
fact. One contented thought dominated my mind, “I can believe the Bible
again.”
Since that time I have encountered some serious scientific
arguments and information that have proven to be real challenges to my
faith. In my daily work, I read journals and talk with people who remind
me that what I believe is not the norm within the scientific community.
Through all of this, I have found that by stripping away the
rhetoric, explanations, and interpretations, the data is revealed and,
in most cases, the information is consistent with a biblical
understanding of earth history. I admit that there are some things for
which I do not have answers. These things do not shake my faith but
rather provide me with stimulating topics for prayer, thought, and
research because my faith is not based on scientific data; it is based
on a living, intimate experience with God and His Word.
It is His gift.
Elaine Kennedy has a Ph.D. degree in
geology from the University of Southern California. She is a geologist
for the Geoscience Research Institute in Loma Linda, California.
