Our theology is man's interpretation of God's revelations of Himself as recorded in the Bible. Our science is man's interpretation of God's revelation of Himself in nature. Each is God's revelation, and so far as we have understood it, that revelation is of the utmost importance in our lives. Each has all the inherent short-comings of man's interpretation. Each has all the difficulties necessarily found in any stage of a developing understanding. We may be sure if we could thoroughly understand God's revelation of Himself as recorded in the Bible and his revelation of Himself as recorded in the rocks and the tissues of animals as well as in the body and mind of man to-day, there would be no difficulty. When we understand both completely, as perhaps we never shall, there will be no contradictions of any kind between them. Even now if we are firmly convinced that truth must be in both, there will be little difficulty in reaching a workable unity which will satisfy the present needs of the human mind and will not be so crystallized as to prevent a future growth. If, however, we hope to find a unity between a belief in evolution and a belief in the inspiration and value of the Bible, we must accept both of these in the terms of to-day. To reconcile a twentieth century statement of science with an eighteenth century statement of theology would be as absurd as it would be to reconcile a statement of twentieth century theology with eighteenth century science. Each century must restate its truths in terms of its own time. The truths may be at bottom the same through many centuries but to be clearly intelligible in any century they must be couched in the terminology of the age. It seems to me if we are to understand, in conformity with the thought of the age, any particular book in the Bible, there are three steps through which we must pass. We must first ask ourselves the kind of people to whom the book was originally written. We must know their habits of life and of thought. Until this is clear in our minds the book can have little significance. Having built up as nearly as may be the life and thought of the time, we must next decide what is the inherent truth taught to the people of that time by the book under consideration. Much that is written must be simply the setting in which alone that truth could reach them. This extraneous detail gives vigor and color to the message but is not the message itself. The last step and the hardest one to take, the one that to some minds seems almost irreverent, is to decide the form that message must take to-day to convey to our minds the same truth which the original message conveyed to the people of its time. In so far as we succeed in taking these three steps, we shall get the true message which this book holds for us to-day.