It seems strange that a LUKEWARM Christian would care enough to have a faith battle with a college professor, but I did. Sadly I was “lukewarm” in my faith in so many ways during my time at West Texas, 1968-1970. However, I did know a few things that were true and two of them were that God was the Creator and that man didn’t come from a monkey or an amoeba. That being said, this article is about the battle.
I was a lazy student, but I passed every class except “accounting”; I just couldn’t get all of those forms and numbers to match. Since I had to have a science class, I chose geology, mainly because I didn’t care for biology in high school.
The first day of class our professor shared his daily routine with us; he would enter the classroom at the last minute, check role, then ask if there were any questions from those who had already read the pages we would be covering that day and then tell us what he wanted us to know from those pages. Want to know how many questions I asked at the beginning of class? NONE. Want to know why? Because I never read the pages in advance; at least not the first semester. This article is mainly about the second semester.
For a whole semester our professor hand-fed us the fundamental foundation of evolution, UNIFORMITARIANISM, without ever mentioning the word “evolution”. I’ve wished a thousand times that I had understood that everything he was saying was aimed at brain-washing us into unknowingly accepting the foundation of evolution. And if you accept the foundation, then you have to accept the building.
That leads us to the first day of second semester. As usual I hadn’t even peeked at the upcoming pages, so when he finished checking role, I opened my book. I was immediately infuriated. It was a picture of Rudolph Zallinger’s The Road To Homo Sapiens, which had first been published in 1965 as part of the Life Nature Library. I might not have been the brightest lightbulb in the room, but I surely knew where he was headed next. I was ready to fight with words.
He then asked, “Are there any questions?” After I shot my hand in the air, I looked around and almost every hand in the packed classroom was raised. Our professor then said, “I refuse to answer any questions that concern that book of mythology known as the Bible. We are here to study the science of geology. Mythology can be examined in our philosophy department. Now does anyone have any questions?” Every student was crushed, every hand was lowered.
He then began to use everything we had swallowed, without question, from the first semester material, as ammunition to attack religion and support humanistic evolution. There were regular jabs at religion and the Bible and none of us knew what to say. I finally had enough.
I went to the professor and asked to drop the class. He asked why. I told him, “I can’t out argue you, but I believe what you are teaching is wrong.” He tried to talk me into remaining in the class, but I said that my faith wouldn’t allow that. As I walked away I had a GOD MOMENT; back then I didn’t even know what a GOD MOMENT was. I turned around and asked him, “If you would allow me to comment on homework papers and tests, then I’m willing to finish the class.” He asked, “What comments?” I replied, “Hogwash or Baloney or LIE, comments like that.” He replied, “Fine with me. I don’t care what you think, as long as you learn what I want you to learn.”
So for the rest of the semester, I would do the homework assignments and pass the tests, with my added commentary in places. My faith felt encouraged every time I wrote Hogwash or Lie or Baloney next to something he wanted me to learn. I got a “B” in the class.
I believe there are times and places where every Christian has to find a way to object to the darkness around us. Some how or some way we each have to find our own Hogwash or Lie or Baloney to the evil lies and behavior around us. We cannot remain silent. Eph. 5:11 “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.”
Mike Sublett is a pastor at Hi-Land Christian Church, 1615 N. Banks St., Pampa, Texas
