By now, practically every leading evolutionary scientist in this country has declined one or more invitations to a scientific debate on creation/evolution.

– Dr. Henry Morris, Hydraulic Engineer

God of Evolution and Hate

I heard one of Your lost preachers. Trapped in your web. Shouting simple answers to complex people.

People mostly ignored him. They would walk past, shaking their heads with a smile, accepting the moment, or even chuckling.

Next he was condemning the God of Evolution and what It’s told him. I’m standing there, thinking, “Dude, if you have a God talking to you, what are you angry about?”

As he cast his spell of God’s Wrath, the people transformed.

The people mostly ignored him. They would walk past clenching their teeth with a scowl, trying to ignore the moment, or even muttering, “Shut the fuck up already.”

The proof of God’s love is in his speech and he’s ignoring it to reject a silly idea that works pretty well for now. God’s word is eternal, so why is he tangled up in

How can they get so lost when You’re talking to them? Why do You keep giving power to anyone who asks for it? Where is my answer?

It’s frightening to realize how small we are in comparison to You. I hope You get that.

I don’t know why he wants to reject any part of You. He quoted some mad scientist. It wasn’t my kind of scripture. I never even heard of the guy, so he must have been obscure.

I admire his bravery. The passerbys’ expressions change from indifferent to insulted, and he’s outnumbered, with at least a dozen willing fighters in sight. I’m not sure how he could put himself in the midst of that. Does he not see it?

I can still see You there. There was a dance in the way the people moved past him, the way his assistants passed out business cards.

He posed a beautiful koan, asking me to think about the newspaper stand, and what it might be in a trillion years. What would it evolve into?

I imagined the atoms having broken down and become parts of new planets, or much more likely, obliterated in the transition from the death of this universe and the chord change in the new one. And yet, that newspaper stand that he pounded will be an essential part, along with him, no matter how small or large a piece.

It was the beginning to a song, and then he had the gall to deny the beauty. I didn’t blame everyone. I was getting pissed off too. I left before I did something we both regretted.

It’s like creating something only to crush it. I wonder where they learned that one.

But I’m thankful that I can still hear the music even if he tries to shut it out.

This would be a hard place to love in without these songs.

It’s hard enough with them.

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