If the Holy Writings are in the language of poetry, [see Part 2] not the precise critical thinking language demanded by science, why is that? Possibly because poetry reaches a broader spectrum than does science. Jesus reduces the Mosaic law to two commandments, the first of which is “you must love Jehovah your God with your whole heart and with your whole soul and with your whole mind and with your whole strength.”* (Mark 12:30) The language of science may fully occupy the mind, but it leaves larges swaths of heart, soul, and strength untouched. The ones who so cultivate the mind need to do the same with heart, soul, and strength. But to do so, they need learn a language that many see no point in learning. Call it what Dobzhansky does: the language of poetry. Or call it the language of “spiritual words” by which we explain “spiritual matters.” (1 Corinthians 2:13) Not that the two languages are the same, necessarily, but they dovetail. Moreover, both languages hide many secrets from those who refuse to learn them. It is as the apostle goes on to explain in the next verse: “But a physical man does not accept the things of the spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot get to know them, because they are examined spiritually.”
Dobzhansky’s not making that mistake of ignoring needed languages. He knows that often scientific theories are originated in languages that, if you want to capture every nuance of them, be it German, Russian, Chinese, whatever, you make yourself fluent in those languages. He doesn’t just say, “if they can’t explain it in my language, it’s not worth knowing.” No. He explores that new language that so aptly expresses a concept his own language fumbles.
Scott Solomon, in his Great Courses Lecture Series ‘What Darwin Didn’t Know’ (Don’t worry; it’s not his fault he didn’t know, he just lived too early), who presumably doesn’t speak the new language—if he does, he gives no indication of it—tells of why he’s so enthralled with evolution: “What I think is most exciting about evolution is the why. other sciences, genetics Physiology chemistry, you name it, they give you a how, but what makes Darwin’s ideas and the ideas from the modern science of evolution so exciting is they help us understand why. Why our bodies the way they are? Why are there so many insects?”
These are not the ‘why’ questions that those who become Jehovah’s Witnesses once tossed and turned over, why questions that even begin with a big what—what is the purpose of life? These are not the questions that did it for Dobzhansky, either, though he explored them. They’re not nothing, but they are definitely not the “more important” things involving God that he highlights in his ‘Nothing in Biology Makes Sense Except in the Light of Evolution Essay.’ For the less material person, the ‘whys’ that count might include, ‘Why is there injustice, evil, and suffering?’ ‘Why, when almost everyone says they want peace, is strife such a constant feature?’ ‘Why do we die, when there are trees that live thousands of years and even a tortoise outlives us?’ It could be a symptom that I have been in the faith too long, but any epiphany to the effect that the present life is all there is and that it’s permanent curtains in just a few decades strikes me as Belshazzar pumping his fist ‘Yes!!!’ upon reading the handwriting on the wall that says his goose is cooked.
Now, it might occur to someone that if “the man of God” ought be “fully competent, [and] completely equipped for every good work,” (2 Timothy 3:16-17) surely that competence will include mastering the “poetic symbols” of the Holy Scriptures. It will not depend upon mastering the precision expressions of those who eat and drink science. He does well to take a stab at those too, probably, for there are a lot of such people around and he wants to relate to them. But it is not essential that he do so.
In fact, if Christ left us “a model for you to follow his steps closely,” (1 Peter 2:21) surely that model will include learning to speak as he did. His communication tread upon the toes of the precise-minded. He routinely broke their rules. He would answer questions with questions. He did odhominem attacks—if not of individuals, certainly of classes such as Pharisees and scribes. He spun complex parables that he declined to explain—to his disciples he would, but not to his detractors. Let the heart figure it out.
Go precise if you can but upon perceiving the difficulty lies in challengers refusing to step outside of their narrow language, where they must step out so as to grasp certain points—well, there’s not much to be done about that. Play the game by their rules and you find that their first rule is you can’t move any of your pieces.
****** The bookstore


