Custodians of Knowledge: How the Church Preserved Classical and Pagan Traditions

Introduction

A common historical misconception suggests that Christianity, particularly the Catholic Church, systematically eradicated classical and pagan traditions in a sweeping effort to impose religious uniformity. Critics argue that Christian authorities deliberately destroyed ancient knowledge, mythology, and intellectual traditions. However, the reality is far more complex. Far from being a cultural adversary to antiquity, Christianity—especially through monastic scholarship—acted as a bridge between the classical and medieval worlds. By preserving philosophy, mythology, and literature, Christian scribes ensured the survival of traditions that might otherwise have been lost. Without their efforts, much of what we know today about Greco-Roman, Norse, and Celtic civilizations would have faded into obscurity.

Christianity as a Guardian of Classical Knowledge

Following the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in the fifth century, Europe’s secular educational systems deteriorated, and literacy rates declined. In this vacuum, the Catholic Church emerged as the principal steward of intellectual preservation. Monastic communities—especially those in Ireland, Italy, and the Byzantine Empire—established scriptoria, centers dedicated to copying and safeguarding manuscripts. These monks did not merely preserve theological works but also transcribed philosophical treatises, epic poetry, and mythological texts.

Christian Engagement with Classical Philosophy

While early Christian thinkers debated the compatibility of pagan philosophy with Christian doctrine, many incorporated classical wisdom into their theological frameworks.

• Boethius (c. 480–524), a Roman philosopher and Christian official, preserved Platonic and Aristotelian thought, bridging antiquity with medieval Scholasticism. His Consolation of Philosophy remained a cornerstone of medieval intellectual life.

• St. Augustine (354–430) integrated Neoplatonic ideas, particularly those of Plotinus, into his theological reflections, profoundly shaping Christian thought.

• John of Damascus (c. 675–749) championed Aristotelian logic and philosophy, laying the groundwork for later Scholastic thinkers like Thomas Aquinas.

Rather than eradicating classical philosophy, Christian scholars curated, adapted, and transmitted it across medieval Europe, ensuring that the intellectual achievements of antiquity informed future generations.

Christian Scholars and the Preservation of Mythology

Though Christianity introduced monotheism to previously polytheistic societies, Christian scribes meticulously documented pagan myths, ensuring their survival. Several critical examples highlight this preservation effort.

Greco-Roman Myths

Early medieval scholars compiled classical mythology into encyclopedic works. Isidore of Seville (c. 560–636), a Spanish bishop and scholar, wrote the Etymologiae, an ambitious encyclopedia detailing myths, historical accounts, and linguistic origins. His work provided medieval readers with access to Roman and Greek lore, demonstrating Christian intellectual engagement with ancient traditions.

Norse Myths

The legendary Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241), an Icelandic historian and Christian official, compiled the Prose Edda, the cornerstone of Norse mythology. Without his efforts, much of the Norse sagas and poetic traditions would have faded into obscurity. Far from suppressing pagan heritage, Christian scholars documented and preserved the epic tales of Odin, Thor, and the Aesir gods.

Celtic Myths

In Ireland, Christian scribes recorded Celtic folklore and heroic sagas. The Book of Leinster (c. 12th century) and the Lebor Gabála Érenn (Book of Invasions) compiled native Irish myths within Christian monastic institutions. Without these manuscripts, much of Celtic tradition would have been lost.

Beowulf: A Christian-Preserved Epic of Pagan Heroism

One of the most striking examples of Christian preservation of pagan traditions is Beowulf, the oldest surviving epic poem in Old English. Written down by Christian monks around the 10th or 11th century, Beowulf recounts the heroic deeds of its titular warrior as he battles monstrous foes like Grendel, Grendel’s mother, and a fearsome dragon. The poem, though rooted in pre-Christian Germanic legend, is infused with Christian moral reflections, demonstrating how Christian scribes safeguarded the myths and histories of the pagan past while subtly adapting them to new theological perspectives.

Without the efforts of Christian scholars, tales like Beowulf—which link us to ancient Germanic traditions and heroic ideals—might have been lost. The poem remains a testament to how Christianity did not erase pagan narratives but rather preserved and reshaped them, allowing future generations to access and study these mythic traditions.

Addressing Counterarguments: Did Christianity Suppress Ancient Knowledge?

Although Christianity preserved vast amounts of classical and mythological texts, some instances of suppression did occur. Certain pagan practices and beliefs were discouraged or replaced as Christianity spread. The destruction of some texts—such as the burning of the Library of Alexandria, often mistakenly attributed to Christian forces—has fueled this narrative. (1, 2) However, most losses of ancient knowledge occurred due to war, societal collapse, and political shifts rather than deliberate Christian opposition.

Additionally, some Church authorities viewed certain philosophical ideas, such as extreme skepticism or hedonism, as conflicting with Christian teachings. Despite this, the Church did not pursue a wholesale erasure of classical works. Instead, it actively preserved and adapted them, particularly through Scholasticism and theological debates that engaged with Greco-Roman thought.

Biblical References to Classical Wisdom

Christian engagement with ancient traditions extended even to biblical writings. The Apostle Paul, for example, referenced Greek poets in his speech to the Athenians, quoting their works to illustrate spiritual truths (Acts 17:28). This demonstrates that early Christians did not reject classical wisdom outright but instead integrated it into their teachings.

Historical Misconceptions: Why Does the Narrative Persist?

Despite overwhelming historical evidence of Christianity’s role in preserving classical traditions, the misconception of systematic destruction persists. Several factors contribute to this belief:

• Selective historical narratives: Popular history often emphasizes moments of conflict while overlooking centuries of scholarly transmission.

• Secular biases in academia: Some modern scholars frame Christianity as an antagonist to intellectual progress, disregarding its contributions to education and preservation.

• Romanticized depictions of pagan cultures: Certain interpretations present pre-Christian civilizations as enlightened and suppressed, ignoring the Church’s role in safeguarding ancient knowledge.

Modern scholarship continues to challenge these assumptions, revealing that Christianity was not an enemy of classical learning but a steward of its survival.

Conclusion: Christianity as a Bridge Between Worlds

The notion that Christianity eradicated classical and pagan traditions is historically untenable. While theological debates inevitably led to conflicts between Christian and pagan worldviews, the Catholic Church actively preserved intellectual and cultural artifacts from antiquity. Christian scholars copied classical texts, documented myths, and adapted philosophical ideas rather than destroying them. Without their efforts, much of Western civilization's foundational knowledge—including philosophy, mythology, and literature—would have been lost to the ravages of time. Rather than cultural adversaries, Christianity and the classical world were deeply intertwined, with the Church serving as a steward of ancient knowledge rather than an agent of its destruction.

As modern scholarship continues to reveal the extent of Christian preservation efforts, it is crucial to reevaluate long-held assumptions about the role of the Church in intellectual history. Rather than a force of destruction, Christianity acted as a custodian of the past, ensuring that even pre-Christian traditions would endure.

Heaven vs. Asgard: Did the Passion Narrative Borrow from Odin?

                             

Introduction

The recurrent image of a divine or semi-divine figure undergoing a sacrificial ordeal is a motif found in many ancient religions. A common assertion is that “ancient religions are full of examples of gods who became men, died, and then rose again.” In Norse mythology, Odin’s quest for the runes (1, 2) is often cited as a parallel to the Christian narrative of death and resurrection. However, the chronology of the Poetic Edda—compiled in the 13th century after the Christianization of Scandinavia—and the intrinsic elements of the myth reveal a far more nuanced picture. This study interrogates the similarities and disparities between the two traditions to uncover how religious memory and cultural lens have shaped these narratives.

Historical and Textual Context

The primary source for Odin’s myth—the Poetic Edda—was compiled between 1200 and 1299 CE, well after the Viking kingdoms of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden had converted to Christianity. With the first recorded Viking contact with Christendom at Lindisfarne in 793 CE and subsequent conversion efforts unfolding over the 11th and 12th centuries, the myth of Odin was ultimately committed to writing in an environment already steeped in Christian influences. Nevertheless, many of its elements, including the ritual of self-sacrifice and the pursuit of hidden wisdom, likely trace back to pre-Christian traditions and practices found within Norse and Germanic cultures.

Odin’s Quest for the Runes: A Sacrifice for Wisdom

In the myth, Odin endures a grueling ordeal by hanging from Yggdrasil, the cosmic world tree. The verses recount:

"I trow I hung on that windy Tree nine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given..."

This self-imposed trial is not a sacrificial death in the conventional sense; rather, it is an act of profound self-offering aimed at unlocking the cryptic power of the runes. Odin’s willingness to forgo external aid—refusing even a sip of water—and his deliberate choice to remain teetering on the boundary between life and death underscore a pursuit of esoteric wisdom. The imagery of being pierced by a spear, while echoing certain aspects of ritual human sacrifice in Norse and Germanic cultures, is emblematic of a transformative process rather than one culminating in death.

Later, when Odin recounts:


"Then I was fertilized and became wise; I truly grew and thrived."

He encapsulates not a resurrection from the grave, but an empowerment through acquired knowledge. This metamorphosis, while dramatic and laden with ritualistic overtones, is an internal and symbolic change, setting it apart from literal death and bodily resurrection.

The Ritual Elements and Execution Methods: Comparing Two Traditions

One of the few shared motifs between the Norse myth and the Christian Gospels is the visual of being pierced by a spear—a gesture that, on the surface, suggests a link between self-sacrifice and divine redemption. However, the narrative details reinforce profound differences:

1. Purpose and Outcome:

• Odin’s Ordeal: The spear-piercing in Odin’s narrative functions as an element of a transformative, self-inflicted trial. The act of self-offering—“an offering of himself given to himself”—draws from practices of human sacrifice common in Norse and Germanic cultures, intended to secure divine favor or insight. Yet, crucially, Odin does not die; he remains among the gods, his sacrifice symbolically representing the attainment of hidden wisdom.

• Jesus’ Passion: In contrast, the crucifixion of Jesus is tightly interwoven with Jewish sacrificial traditions, particularly those connected to Passover rituals. Jesus’ execution, carried out by Roman methods, including the use of a spear to ensure death, is intended as a redemptive act—an actual, physical death that is later reversed through bodily resurrection. The depiction of Jesus’ suffering and death serves as both a historical event and a theological cornerstone affirming divine love, justice, and salvation.

2. Execution Protocols and Cultural Context

• In Roman crucifixion, the use of a spear—administered to deliver a final “death blow”—followed standard execution protocols of the era. The gospels document a methodical execution steeped in historical veracity, further supported by extra-biblical and archaeological evidence
  
  
• Odin’s sacrifice, on the other hand, is steeped in mythic form and ritual symbolism, drawing from traditions where victims of noble birth might be hung and speared as offerings. This practice underpins a symbolic, rather than a literal, interpretation of sacrifice.

Theological Divergence and Cultural Reinterpretation

The examination of these two narratives reveals that while both incorporate sacrificial imagery, their cultural and theological objectives differ markedly. Odin’s self-offering emerges as a personal quest for abstract, mystical insight—a pursuit of knowledge that empowers him to shape destiny and counter his foes through the enigmatic force of runic magic. In contrast, the sacrifice of Jesus is not an existential search for wisdom but a redemptive act designed to reconcile a broken humanity with a holy and just God.

Moreover, the tendency to interpret Norse mythology through a Christian lens—drawing parallels to a divine figure who becomes “man” and self-sacrifices for others—is largely the result of later, Christianized cultural reinterpretations. By the time Odin’s quest for the runes was committed to writing, the narrative may have already incorporated elements of Christian thought, leading modern readers to project distinctively Christian concepts back onto a tradition that, at its core, reflects pre-Christian practices.

Conclusion

A careful reading of both Odin’s mythic sacrifice and the passion of Jesus reveals more dissimilarities than common ground. While both narratives feature elements of self-sacrifice, show piercing as a symbolic act, and involve protagonists navigating the liminal space between life and death, they diverge substantially in ontology and purpose. Odin’s trial is a mythological allegory intended to access esoteric wisdom—he remains divine and uncorrupted by death—whereas the Gospel accounts present a historically situated, redemptive death and bodily resurrection intrinsic to the Christian understanding of salvation.

In light of the evidence, it appears that any alleged similarities between these stories result from later interpretative readings rather than from an intrinsic shared tradition. The myth of Odin and the runes, rooted in pre-Christian ritual practices and later colored by the Christian milieu, stands apart from the sober historical reporting of the Gospels. The claim that Odin embodies a pre-Christian archetype of a god who became a man, died, and rose again is, upon close scrutiny, itself an interpretative myth.

Is Jesus The Wrong Name? The Sacred Name Controversy and What the Bible Really Says

 

 “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to people by which we must be saved.” — Acts 4:12

Introduction: When Names Become Battlefields

In the dynamic world of Christian discourse, few debates have generated as much linguistic and doctrinal heat as the “Jesus Name Only” movement. Emerging from early 20th-century Oneness Pentecostalism, this movement insists that baptism and salvation must be performed exclusively “in the name of Jesus,” rejecting Trinitarian formulations. More recently, this insistence has overlapped with ideas from the Sacred Name and Hebrew Roots movements—groups that claim that the English name Jesus is a false, even blasphemous, name, and that only Yeshua or Yahshua should be used.

This article addresses the theological and linguistic misunderstandings at the heart of these claims. It demonstrates that transliteration is not corruption but communication, and that the apostles themselves bore names that changed across languages without losing their identity or authority. Most importantly, it affirms that salvation is not a matter of phonetics, but of faith in the person to whom the name refers.

The “Jesus Name Only” Movement: A Brief Overview

The “Jesus Name Only” doctrine arose during the Pentecostal revivals of the early 1900s, particularly after R.E. McAlister’s 1913 sermon at the Arroyo Seco camp meeting. This sparked what became known as the “New Issue,” eventually leading to the formation of Oneness Pentecostal denominations such as the United Pentecostal Church International (UPCI). These groups emphasize baptism “in the name of Jesus” as the only valid formula, citing passages like Acts 2:38 and Acts 10:48.

While the movement affirms the deity of Christ, it rejects the traditional doctrine of the Trinity, often interpreting “Father,” “Son,” and “Holy Spirit” as mere titles or modes of the one God, Jesus. This modalistic theology has been critiqued by scholars such as Gregory Boyd and David K. Bernard, the latter being a leading Oneness theologian who defends the movement from within.

For a historical and theological analysis, see Paul Buford’s thesis, “The Jesus Name Controversy: A Doctrinal Development in the Pentecostal Movement.” (1)

A Note on Modalism: A Rejected Heresy

Modalism, sometimes called Sabellianism, was formally rejected by early theologians like Tertullian and condemned in church councils by the 3rd and 4th centuries. The church fathers affirmed the Trinitarian understanding of God as one in essence yet three in person. Modern Oneness theology, while distinct in some areas, echoes this ancient error. As theologian Matt Ayars writes, “Modalism undermines the relational nature of the Trinity and contradicts key scriptural distinctions between the persons of the Godhead.” (2)

Misreading Acts 4:12: Is “Jesus” the Only Salvific Sound?

The claim that only the Hebrew or Aramaic form Yeshua is valid for salvation stems from a hyper-literal reading of Acts 4:12. However, this interpretation collapses under both linguistic scrutiny and biblical context.

The Greek text of Acts 4:12 uses the name Ἰησοῦς (Iēsous), the standard Greek transliteration of the Hebrew Yehoshua or Yeshua. This same form appears throughout the New Testament, written in Koine Greek—the lingua franca of the Roman world. The apostles, including Peter who spoke these words, were not demanding a specific phonetic pronunciation but were proclaiming the authority of the risen Christ.

As Clark Pinnock notes in his article “Acts 4:12: No Other Name Under Heaven,” the verse emphasizes the exclusivity of Christ’s role in salvation, not the exclusivity of a particular linguistic form. (3)

Enter the Sacred Name and Hebrew Roots Movements

The modern insistence on Yeshua or Yahshua over Jesus often finds its roots not in early apostolic teaching, but in movements like the Sacred Name Movement and the Hebrew Roots Movement. These groups argue that God's name (Yahweh) and Jesus’ original Hebrew name (Yeshua or Yahshua) must be used in worship and that using transliterated names, especially Jesus, is invalid or even blasphemous.

The Sacred Name Movement emerged in the 1930s and teaches that restored Hebrew pronunciation is essential to salvation. The Hebrew Roots Movement, while more varied, often encourages believers to return to Torah-observant practices and “original” Hebraic customs, including the use of Hebrew names for God and Jesus.

While such groups aim to reclaim authenticity, they sometimes fall into linguistic legalism—attaching salvific weight to pronunciation rather than to the faith that the name represents. As James Patrick Holding notes, the evolution from Yehoshua to Iēsous to Jesus follows natural linguistic paths and does not compromise the theological integrity of the name. (4)

Transliteration vs. Translation: What’s in a Name?

Transliteration is the process of rendering a name from one writing system into another while preserving its phonetic structure as closely as possible. It is not the same as translation, which conveys meaning rather than sound.

Consider the following examples:

Original Name	Greek Form	English Form	Spanish Form	Russian Form
יֵשׁוּעַ (Yeshua)	Ἰησοῦς (Iēsous)	Jesus	Jesús	Иисус (Iisus)
שִׁמְעוֹן (Shim'on)	Σίμων (Simōn)	Simon	Simón	Симон (Simon)
יוֹחָנָן (Yochanan)	Ἰωάννης (Iōannēs)	John	Juan	Иоанн (Ioann)

If the apostles themselves used Greek forms like Iēsous, Simōn, and Iōannēs, then insisting on a single Semitic pronunciation today is not only historically inaccurate—it’s theologically misguided.

For a deeper dive into the transliteration of multicultural names, see the study “Sideways Transliteration” by Cohen and Elhadad. (5)

Theological Implications: Salvation by Sound or by Savior?

The insistence that only Yeshua is valid for salvation risks turning the gospel into a form of linguistic legalism. It echoes the error Paul confronted in Galatians, where some insisted that Gentile believers must adopt Jewish customs to be saved (Galatians 2:14).

The New Testament affirms that salvation comes through faith in the person and work of Jesus Christ—not through uttering a specific syllable. As Paul writes in Romans 10:13, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” The emphasis is on calling in faith, not on phonetic precision.

Conclusion: The Name Above Every Name—In Every Language

The gospel is not bound by language. From the Aramaic-speaking apostles to the Greek-speaking churches of Asia Minor, from Latin manuscripts to modern translations, the name of Jesus has crossed linguistic and cultural boundaries without losing its power. To claim that only one pronunciation is valid is to misunderstand both Scripture and the nature of language itself.

The name Jesus is not a counterfeit—it is a faithful transliteration used by billions of believers across centuries and continents. What matters is not the syllables we utter, but the Savior we trust.

“Therefore God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name…” — Philippians 2:9

The Real Lost Path: Responding to Calvin Smith and Ken Ham on the Romans Road

 

(Responding to Calvin Smith, “The Lost Path to the Roman Road,” Answers in Genesis, Nov. 23, 2020. Link here.)

Introduction:

For generations, Christians have used the “Romans Road” as a simple but profound way of walking someone through the gospel. It is not a clever slogan or a denominational tract, but a path laid out in Paul’s letter itself: humanity’s sin, God’s gift, Christ’s sacrifice, the response of faith, and the assurance of salvation. At its best, the Romans Road is not a shortcut but a journey into the heart of the gospel. Yet in recent years, some voices have redrawn the map. Influential people like Calvin Smith and Ken Ham insist that the road cannot be traveled without first detouring through Genesis, as though the good news of Christ depends on affirming a particular chronology of creation. What was once a path to the cross and resurrection is recast as an apologetic for origins. The result is not a clearer gospel but a heavier burden, where the gate is guarded not by Christ but by a contested reading of the opening chapters of Scripture.

This article examines that shift — how the Romans Road has been reframed, what is lost in the process, and why recovering its Christ‑centered focus matters for the church’s witness today.

The Romans Road: A Gospel Path, Not a Genesis Detour

Smith begins with the familiar outline of the Romans Road, but he abbreviates it: Romans 3:23 (“all have sinned”), Romans 6:23 (“the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life”), and Romans 10:9 (“confess and be saved”). The classic form, however, is fuller than Smith’s summary:

• Romans 3:23 – All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.
  
  

• Romans 6:23 – The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
  
  

• Romans 5:8 – God proves his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
  
  

• Romans 10:9–10 – If you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.
  
  

• Romans 10:13 – Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

To be fair, Smith does affirm that the death and resurrection of Jesus are the epicenter of the Christian faith. Yet by reframing the Romans Road through Genesis, he makes the cross and resurrection contingent on a Young Earth Creationist (YEC) interpretation, effectively shifting the emphasis away from Paul’s gospel and onto Answers in Genesis’ apologetic formula.

In other words, the problem is not the Romans Road itself, but the way Smith and Ham reframe it. Instead of letting Paul’s gospel stand on its own terms, they tether it to their YEC presuppositions. The classic Romans Road leads to Christ. Smith and Ham’s version leads to Genesis 1-11. The gospel becomes less about proclaiming the risen Lord and more about defending a specific view on secondary issues. That is not the Romans Road. It is a detour.

Additionally, it is worth noting that Smith describes the ultimate treasure of salvation as dwelling with God in “a restored new heavens and new earth,” which he says will be “very similar to the way God created it in the beginning” citing Revelation 21:4 as his proof text. But this phrasing—a restored new creation—is theologically confused. How can it be new if it is simply a reset to Genesis 1 and 2? This emphasis on restoration over resurrection echoes a distinctly Adventist-flavored eschatology, where salvation is framed as a return to Eden rather than the radical transformation the New Testament proclaims. (1, 2) The apostles encouraged believers not with the promise of Eden restored, but with the assurance of resurrection and transformation in Christ (1 Corinthians 15:51–52; 2 Corinthians 5:17). By centering Christian hope on creation restored rather than believers resurrected, Smith redirects the gospel’s climax from resurrection life in Christ to the fate of the created order.

That said, Smith is right that many today struggle with the Roman Road. But the questions he lists—“What is sin?” “Isn’t death natural?” “How did Jesus’ death pay for sin?”—are not signs of rebellion. They are genuine theological inquiries that deserve thoughtful, historically grounded answers, not a recitation of YEC proof texts.

The Lost Path: Moses and the Old Testament

Smith and Ham argue that many—if not most—Christians today cannot answer these questions because they have neglected the Old Testament. They are right that the OT is indispensable. Jesus and the apostles constantly drew from Moses and the Prophets. But Smith’s claim that the gospel only makes sense if Genesis is read as literal history is neither the only—nor the historically dominant—Christian reading.

Here Smith employs a familiar YEC strategy: he takes Jesus’ statements about believing Moses (e.g., Luke 16:31; John 5:46–47) and reframes them to mean that unless one accepts a literalist, young‑earth reading of Genesis, one cannot believe what the New Testament teaches about Christ. But that is not what Jesus was saying. His point was that Moses wrote of him—that the Torah, rightly understood, pointed forward to Christ. To turn those words into a mandate for affirming a six‑day chronology, flood geology, or a pre‑fall vegetarian ecosystem is to collapse Christological fulfillment into an apologetic for origins.

When Jesus invoked Moses, he did so in order to reveal himself as the fulfillment of Israel’s covenant history. In Luke 24, the risen Christ opens the Scriptures to show “all that Moses and the Prophets said concerning him.” This is typology, not a scientific commentary on creation's timeline, but a theological unveiling of God’s master plan.

Ultimately, Smith’s answers—sin as law‑breaking, death as biological mortality introduced at the fall, salvation as courtroom acquittal—are true in part but incomplete. Sin is also idolatry, injustice, and systemic distortion. Death is not merely biology but the reign of sin, the alienation from God that Christ defeats in resurrection. Salvation is not only a pardon but also participation in God’s new creation.

The Road of Origins: Evolution vs. Creationism

Smith insists that evolution is an atheistic “road” incompatible with the gospel. He quotes Daniel Dennett’s “universal acid” metaphor to argue that Darwinism corrodes Christian faith. But this is a false dichotomy.

Christians throughout history have held a wide range of interpretations of Genesis, approaching the text with varying degrees of literalism. For example, Augustine suggested that God created the world in an instant and imbued living things with “seed-like principles” that unfolded over time, resulting in the emergence of new forms of life. (3) Calvin emphasized a that Genesis was written in accommodated language, not as a scientific manual. (4) And Charles Spurgeon taught that the earth was “certainly many millions of years” old. (5) Today, countless believers see evolution as God’s providential means of creation and accept the scientific evidence of an ancient universe.

Likewise, Smith’s claim that “if death existed before Adam, then death is not an enemy” confuses categories. The New Testament treats death as the reign of sin, not the biological mortality of plants and animals. Christ’s victory is not about rewinding natural history but about inaugurating a new creation (1 Corinthians 15:26).

Ironically, the real “universal acid” is not Darwinism but brittle fundamentalism. When Christians insist that the gospel stands or falls on a young-earth chronology, they set up fragile foundations that crumble under scrutiny. Many young believers have walked away from faith, not because evolution destroyed the gospel, but because they were told that accepting evolution or deep time meant rejecting Christ.

Two Roads, Two Messages: Romans Road vs. Genesis–Romans Road

Ken Ham’s Genesis–Romans Road (Gospel Reset, Master Books, 2018, Appendix A, pp. 115–116) highlights the problem we've discussed thus far. As previously noted, the classic Romans Road leads inexorably to Christ: sin, grace, faith, assurance. Ham’s version detours into Genesis and never returns.

• Classic Romans Road: Romans 3:23 → Romans 6:23 → Romans 5:8 → Romans 10:9–10 → Romans 10:13.
  
  

• Ham’s Genesis–Romans Road: Genesis 1:1 → Genesis 1:31 → Genesis 3:17–19 → Romans 5:12 → Romans 3:23.

The difference is stark. The traditional road ends with hope: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13). Ham’s road ends with guilt: “All have sinned” (Romans 3:23). One road leads to Christ; the other to an apologetic framework.

Even more telling is Ham’s interpretive gloss. His framework depends on the idea that creation was originally “perfect.” But Genesis 1:31 does not say “perfect.” The Hebrew text reads טוֹב מְאֹד (ṭôḇ me’ōḏ) — “very good.” The word טוֹב (ṭôḇ) means good, fitting, beneficial, beautiful. מְאֹד (me’ōḏ) intensifies it: “exceedingly.” By contrast, when the Hebrew Bible wants to express the idea of blamelessness, wholeness, or perfection, it uses תָּמִים (tāmîm). This is the word used for sacrifices “without blemish” (e.g., Lev. 22:21), for people like Noah who are called “blameless” (Genesis 6:9), or for Abraham’s call to “walk before me and be blameless” (Genesis 17:1).

The fact that Genesis 1:31 uses ṭôḇ me’ōḏ rather than tāmîm is significant. The text emphasizes that creation was functioning as God intended, not that it was metaphysically flawless or incapable of change. Ham’s “perfect creation” is therefore not a lexical conclusion but an apologetic necessity.

By reframing the gospel this way, Ham makes Genesis—not Christ—the gatekeeper of salvation. That shift is not incidental; it changes the very center of the message. The classic Romans Road ends with Christ crucified and risen, calling all who believe to salvation. Ham’s Genesis–Romans Road ends with Adam’s failure and humanity’s guilt, leaving the hearer stranded without the cross. The only caveat is that if Ham’s version were used merely as a springboard into the full Romans Road, it could serve as an entry point. But the truncated version he presents in Gospel Reset leaves people hanging without any clear direction toward the gospel’s climax in Christ.

Clearing the Way—or Obscuring It?

Smith concludes by urging Christians to “clear the way” by returning to a plain reading of the Old Testament. But “plain reading” is not the same as “literalistic reading.” The plain sense for ancient Israel was theological, not scientific.

Far from clearing the way, AiG’s framework often clutters it. When seekers are told that the gospel depends on rejecting the scientific consensus of the modern world, they are not drawn closer to Christ but pushed further away.

Clearing the way for the gospel means dismantling false dichotomies, rejecting anti‑science rhetoric, and freeing it from chains to origins debates—not defending a young‑earth chronology.

Conclusion: The Road We Clear for Others

Jesus said the way is narrow, and few find it (Matthew 7:14). But the difficulty of the way is not in memorizing the creeds and doctrinal statements of Young Earth Creationism. The true challenge is in following the crucified and risen Lord, whose road leads through humility, repentance, and resurrection hope.

When we make secondary issues the gatekeeper of salvation, we risk offering people a gospel that feels more like an entrance exam than good news. But when we keep Christ at the center, the road is narrow yet open — demanding yet invitational, costly yet filled with joy.

The question, then, is not whether we can win debates about fossils or rock layers, but whether our lives and our message point people to the risen Christ. The Romans Road was never meant to be a toll road, where only those who pay the price of a particular interpretation may pass. It was meant to be a path of grace, where sinners and skeptics alike can hear the call: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13).

The real lost path is not the one Smith and Ham describe. Theirs is the path of a church that forgets its center, trading resurrection hope for apologetic detours. To clear the way again is to proclaim Christ crucified and risen, to embody his love in a fractured world, and to invite all people to walk the road that leads not back to Eden, but forward into newness of life.