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arwin could plainly see what the
Gospel could accomplish, but
there is no record that he ever truly ap-
plied it to his own life. In Ushuaia, we
distributed the Gospel to the descen-
dants of the original “wild people” of
whom was said by Darwin, “there is
no hope for such people.” When those
people died, they ascended into heaven
into glorious light. When Darwin died
April 19, in 1882, he went out into
darkness. Third Encounter with
Charles Darwin—
Westminster Abbey,
London, England
all was ending, or so he thought. There
was nothing at the grave of Darwin to
inspire and comfort.

When he died, the world had not
been made a better place because he
had lived. The hopeless still languished
in their despair. Those pained by deep
grief still had no comfort because he
lived. Those unloved masses of human-
ity were still enslaved by the hatred and
prejudice of their adversaries. Nothing
Charles Darwin ever did in his life
brought light to a person’s darkness or
cheer to a broken heart.

fter all, according to his humanis-
tic theory, man had evolved from
ome time ago I stood
at a grave in Westmin-
ster Abbey, London. The
grave was that of Mission-
ary David Livingstone.

Here before my feet was
a man who touched the
world and pointed conti-
nents to God. My friend,
Terry Arp, related to me
his visit to this grave. On
that occasion, as he was
gazing down at Living-
stone’s grave, a man ap-
proached him from Af-
rica who was also visiting
London that day. The man
from Africa said to Terry,
“I came all the way from
Africa to see this grave.

This was the man who
brought the Gospel to
our village.” Because Liv-
ingstone lived, multitudes
were redeemed.

n a separate part of the
Abbey, I stood at anoth-
er grave—that of Charles
Darwin. I watched others
pause to look, read the in-
scriptions, and then quick-
ly move on. Charles Darwin’s grave
bears a simple inscription with his
name, date of birth, and date of death.

There are no words of hope or peace.

When he was on his deathbed dying,
T Goodbye,
Charles…we will probably…
never meet
again. I
this man, my life was changed for good
forever.” No follower of Darwin was
ever reported to have died clutching a
copy of his Origin of the Species in his
hand. he cold statue of Charles Darwin in
the center of Shrewsbury, England,
reminds the citizens of the town that
this is where he once lived. That cold,
lifeless piece of rock is his memorial.

That last encounter with the man
made me glad that I had met Christ
who created me and all things around
me. That day at Westminster Abbey, I
felt a deep sense of sadness for Charles
Darwin. He had closed his ears to Sir
Isaac Newton, Francis Ba-
con, and all the great men
before him who testified
through their genius that
the creation was evidence
of the hand of God.

beasts and was simply a mass of liv-
ing flesh with no eternal destiny. I saw
no one weeping at Charles Darwin’s
grave. I heard no one who lingered
there speak such words as “Because of
Because that, when
they knew God, they
glorified him not as God,
neither were thank-
ful; but became vain in
their imaginations, and
their foolish heart was
darkened. Professing
themselves to be wise,
they became fools, And
changed the glory of the
uncorruptible God into
an image made like to
corruptible man, and
to birds, and fourfooted beasts, and
creeping things
(Romans 1:21–23).