If you have had any exposure to religion of the Judeo-Christian variety, you are probably familiar with the story of creation as told in Genesis. As well, if you have had any exposure to modern science, you are probably also familiar with the theory of evolution. Who knows–you might even believe in them both.
Welcome to the Creation Museum of Petersburg, Ky., where you are about to get your dual beliefs blown out of the water–namely, the water from Noah’s Flood. The museum contends that, “starting from a Biblical perspective,” creation and evolution are by no means compatible. In fact, the museum asserts, evolution as a means to the diversity of species we see today on Earth is completely false.
The first exhibits I observed all gave the same message: “The evolutionists think one thing is true, but they are not starting from a Biblical perspective, so they are wrong.” So far, debunking this museum’s credibility was not requiring any mental gymnastics.
To the museum’s credit, the exhibits in another room carefully outlined creationists’ and evolutionists’ viewpoints side-by-side. Mothers crouched down beside their young children, pointing and explaining to them “what God says” about each scenario, according to the exhibits.
In the main part of the museum, a series of rooms further explain why evolution is hogwash, and also, how its deception is leading to a godless society of pain, suffering, abortion and homosexuality.
One thing I didn’t realize, even after spending three years with my Baptist friends who believe that the Earth is less than 10,000 years old, is exactly how much creation science is based on Noah’s Flood–that is to say, all of it. Somehow, the Flood allows creation scientists the luxury of compressing millions of years into one freak 40-day rainstorm.
The most impressive room is a replica of the Garden of Eden, featuring a massive Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, life-sized Adam and Eve, a dinosaur eating a pineapple, a penguin, and–if you look carefully–a sinister snake that screams of foreshadowing.
After going through the main exhibit, I went to a seminar on “Three Ways to Make an Ape Man,” led by Dr. David Menton. As quick-witted as he was, I wasn’t ready to drop years of an evolutionary worldview for an hour-long class. The family sitting in front of us didn’t seem to have a problem, however. They laughed raucously at Menton’s every dig at the evolutionists.
So guess what? I still believe in evolution. But the Creation Museum isn’t just for the creationist. It’s also for the curious evolutionist who enjoys exhibits with attractively displayed animatronic dinosaurs.