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y those who shared the same genes could share the same God. That
was the tribal concept held by primitive peoples the world over.
But as Leo W. Buss, a biologist at Yale University, says, "at each
stage in the history of life in which a new self-replicating unit
arose--the rules regarding the operation of natural selection changed
utterly."15 One result: two to three thousand years ago, the gods who
had been mere labels for a genetic stock detached themselves and took
on a new purpose.
You can see the gene-free god unfolding in the days of the New
Testament. Jesus was a Jew. All available evidence indicates that, like
the other Jews of his time, he felt his God was a genetic one. The only
people to whom Jesus preached were other Jews. They alone were the
folks to whom his God and his DNA were attached. When Jesus was
crucified, most of his disciples followed in his footsteps, trying to
convince Jews that Jesus was, indeed, the Messiah.16 Like the tribal
God he served, a Messiah would aid only the people who carried the
chosen genes.17
Then, after his death, Jesus acquired a new kind of apostle. The
original followers of the carpenter from Nazareth had been simple
people from the hills of Galilee, poor backwoods folk with only the
most rudimentary education. The figure who would transform
Christianity was a city sophisticate with a university education.
His name was Saul. And he knew aspects of the world the
original disciples had never dreamed of. He had grown up in the
cosmopolis of Tarsus, a bustling center of trade where men from all
over the vast Empire of Rome did business. Saul's father, though
Jewish, had been a Roman citizen. Saul had been educated in Israel's
greatest urban center, Jerusalem. And he spoke the language of
international high culture--Greek.
Saul was a Johnny-come-lately to the teachings of Jesus. He
didn't even get involved until after Christ was dead. When Saul first
heard of the redneck sect, he was so infuriated that he organized
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