What do you do when your kids are taught the so-called “facts” about science when they are not facts at all, and are incompatible with the Bible? Do you just go along with it or do you freak out?
While the Bible doesn’t tell us everything we would like to know about every detail of our universe, I believe that everything it does say about our universe is correct.
The most basic thing, of course, is that God created it. In fact, that’s how the Bible starts—“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”
I don’t know how God did it, but I accept the fact that He did it. Partly because the Bible says so, and partly because I haven’t yet heard a good explanation for how it happened without God.
A few weeks ago I took a field trip with my son’s third grade class. Although he attends a Christian school, we got on the bus and went to a planetarium that was located in a local high school.
When we arrived at the planetarium, the lady came out and announced that the title of our program would be “The Sun’s Family.” Makes sense—we’re going to learn about our solar system. After all, it was a planetarium.
After the obligatory “please don’t put your feet on the seat in front of you” spiel, the lights dimmed and we settled back into our semi-reclined chairs.
As our eyes adjusted to the darkness, a large fireball appeared on the screen above us and among the chorus of “oohs” and “aahhs” from the brood of juveniles surrounding me, I heard the lady announce that it was the sun.
I knew what was coming, and it didn’t take long to get there.
“Five billion years ago, the solar system began to form, and no one was there to see it.”
I had mixed feelings—dismay that they were passing off theory as fact coupled with excitement about the cosmological dissertation I was going to dump on these third-graders on the bus ride back to school.
I understand that many people, even Bible-believing Christians, accept the notion that the universe is 14 billion years old and the solar system is 5 billion years old. While I disagree, that wasn’t my concern.
I was more disturbed with her statement that no one was there to see it.
Why did she have to say that? Wouldn’t that be obvious? I couldn’t help but think that was a back-door approach to telling the kids, “There was no God overseeing the process.”
I listened as she went on to describe in detail how the solar system formed. I thought, Wait a minute. Didn’t she just say that no one was there to see it? How does she know how it happened?
I understand that cosmologists have attempted to run the clock backward, so to speak, in an attempt to figure out how things got here. I’m cool with that. But she was stating something as a fact—something that, in her own words, no one saw.
I half-listened as the lady droned on about the intricacies of each of the planets—their size, their temperature, and their composition. But my mind kept reverting to the origin of the solar system—that is, until I fell asleep.
When we finally boarded the bus, I turned to my captive audience and baited them in. “What did you think about the show?”
Surprisingly, they were eager to talk about it. I asked them a few questions, like “How do we know what the atmosphere of the earth is made of?” and “How do we know about the planetary rotation around the sun?” The answer, of course, is that we can see and measure it.
Then I dropped the big question: “How do we know that the universe formed itself five billion years ago?”
One boy shouted, “We don’t! They’re just guessing!”
Wow. Maybe there is some hope for the next generation.
And, you know what, he’s right. Sure, it’s an educated guess, but like the lady said, no one was there to see it.
Except God, of course.
After a few minutes, the kids’ interest turned to some silly song I’d never heard, so I sat back in my seat, satisfied that I had encouraged these kids engage in the lost art of thinking. I had taught them an important lesson: the difference between observational science and historical science.
Observational science is the process of observing something and determining how it works. When we understand how things work, we can develop technology.
But what about things that happened in the past?
That’s historical science.
If we want to find out what happened in the past, we have to do two things.
First, we need to study what we can see.
That’s what detectives do. They dust for fingerprints, measure tire prints, and chart blood splatter. All of these help to develop a picture of what happened.
Cosmologists do the same thing. They observe the universe today and try to figure out how it got here. This, of course, requires a certain level of speculation.
Second, we need to consult eyewitnesses.
We can’t go back and see things happen. That’s why detectives rely on eyewitnesses—it helps to talk to someone who was there.
This presents a problem for cosmologists. Like the lady at the planetarium said, no one was there. So they can’t use this method.
We do have an eyewitness, however, and that is God. I would think that we would at least consider what He has to say.
So, what did I learn by spending the day with a bunch of third-graders at a planetarium?
First, go on field trips with your kids if possible. It can be enlightening.
Second, our kids will be faced with “facts” that are not really facts. We need to teach them how to recognize the difference. In short, we need to teach them how to think.
You can view my video of this article at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYJUeFnFAn4&t=39s.
