From Talkorigins.org Feedback archive Sept 98, Written by David Cox.

Picture a seed. This seed is an elm tree seed. I decide to plant this seed in my front yard so that I can have some shade for my house (in about 20 years). I plant this seed and it starts to grow. Every day, this little "treeling" faces a new challenge. The weather changes, the neighborhood dogs decide to help with the watering, someone may step on the poor little thing and break a branch. These things are all a part of everyday life for a tree. Time goes on, and my little tree grows. It sprouts new branches, lays more roots, and enjoys the sunshine. One day, one of the branches gets so big that it blocks the sun from its neighboring branch, a smaller, less impressive branch. So what is this smaller branch to do? One of two things will happen. Either it will grow in a direction that will get it more sunlight or it will die. What happens is basically determined by its ability to grow in a new direction. If it can it will. If it can't, it will die. Doesn't really matter, I suppose. This tree is getting pretty big anyway. Finally, 20 years later, I have the shade tree for my house- a tall, beautiful elm tree. It is the most beautiful tree on the block. I look up one day and notice a leaf on my tree. It is a leaf unlike any other on the tree. It has the same basic shape, but the color is a little different and it is a little bigger than the rest. And so I ask myself, "Is this leaf special? Could the whole entire purpose of this tree be to produce this one leaf? Or is this leaf the result of 20 years of uncertainty, just doing what must be done to survive? This is a philosophical question, but I think I would find it much easier to believe the latter.

You see, this is my evolutionary analogy. One looks back and says "How incredible it is that this one leaf ended up right here on this tree." Is it really so incredible? Was this tree designed to produce this leaf? I suppose it's possible. If we did some analyses on this tree, we might think so, because everything on the tree from it's roots to its branches supports this leaf, and thus must have been designed for the support of that one leaf. In reality, that leaf's very existence is just the byproduct of years of grueling weather, competing branches, and dog avoidance. It is possible that 10 years ago, some minor change of events could have resulted in this leaf not even existing. Then I would be looking at another leaf, saying the same thing. It is there simply because that is where past events dictated. If you don't believe me, plant a tree and look at it in 20 years.

We, as humans, are a leaf on the elm tree of life. The tree has endured changes in the weather, catastrophes, and all manner of happenings. We are definitely different than any other leaf on the tree, but that doesn't mean that the purpose of the whole tree was to produce us. As to how the seed got there in the first place, that's a completely different story altogether. The tree grew, the leaves are there, and here we are. To deny the existence of the tree and its relationship with the leaf is to deny reality. Such is the story of evolution. It's not about how the seed got there, it's about the tree and how the leaf got there. I realize that this is highly philosophical and long winded, but hopefully it will help one person see the light.

There's a tree blocking the sun...

All caps subject lines bring back bad memories. Boo. Bad Lumpy. Not a bad analogy in the article, though.

This says it all, really:

We, as humans, are a leaf on the elm tree of life. The tree has endured changes in the weather, catastrophes, and all manner of happenings. We are definitely different than any other leaf on the tree, but that doesn't mean that the purpose of the whole tree was to produce us.

Even those who accept evolution sometimes see humans as the 'end point' or 'high point' of evolution. We are not. We're simply ANOTHER point.

Good post!

I see your separation of the planting of the seed from the growth of the tree as representative of the confusion among most creationists of the difference between the theory of evolution vs. that of abiogenesis.

Evolution proper is not concerned with a moment of creation so much as a study of what has transpired in the interim of whatever initial state might have existed.

I think, and have always thought, that the separation of abiogenesis from evolutionary theory was disingenuous, as well as unnecessary. Clearly, life arose as selection processes began to affect inanimate organic molecules. There was no bright dividing line between non-living material and living material. One became the other through processes that were clearly "evolutionary."

We've said, or heard it said, for years that we can't know how abiogenesis occurred. That's becoming less true every day. Read Robert Hazen's Genesis, or the first couple of chapters of Nick Lane's Life Ascending, and you'll see how far the science has come.

“I look up one day and notice a leaf on my tree. It is a leaf unlike any other on the tree. It has the same basic shape, but the color is a little different and it is a little bigger than the rest.”

Our leaf is only unique in the sense that all of the leaves on the tree are individual – but if you were truly in a position just to admire the tree, there wouldn’t be much about our little leaf to commend it. We think the leaf is special because we are the leaf, but we’re not the longest lived leaf on the tree, nor the most abundant, nor the most deadly, or even the most useful (that title belongs to the worms, I’d think!). We were very late to unfold and sooner or later, like all the other leaves, we’ll wither and fall.

It’s the tree that’s beautiful and shady (and worth saving), not one tiny leaf – we get ourselves into all sorts of trouble protecting and providing for our little leaf at the expense of the rest of the foliage.

The more we learn, the better. However, my point is that evolution as a theory exists based upon observation of empirical evidence rather than as an alternative theory to Biblical Genesis. For creationists purposes, I would say that the distinction is significant. One could conceivably accept the theory of evolution while maintaining a belief in a supernatural creation.

In fact, my study of evolution originally made me more religious, and not less. It was the study of everything else that finally put the knife to my religious beliefs.