Science & Belief

Introduction

Einstein once remarked,

“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind''.

Michael Faraday was a Christian believer. A commentator on Faraday’s life says this,

“He viewed his discoveries of nature's laws as part of the continual process of `reading the book of nature', no different in principle from the process of reading the Bible to discover God's laws. A strong sense of the unity of God and nature pervaded Faraday's life and work.”

Some years ago Oxford University appointed the biologist Richard Dawkins as the Charles Simonyi Professor For The Understanding Of Science, based at New College. He set about his task of popularising science with an evangelical intensity, publishing a number of successful books; The Selfish Gene, The Blind Watchmaker and River Out of Eden being among them. Readers from all walks of life were attracted to these books, and Dawkins, a very clever and gifted man, has become justly famous.

But there’s a hitch. Dawkins is an atheist and vehemently anti-Christian. Nothing sells books quite like controversy and Dawkins has mined a rich seam of publicity by perpetuating the notion that science and Christianity are fundamentally opposed. Rarely does he speak or write about science but he grasps the opportunity to inculcate Jews, Christians and Muslims in a supposed cruel deception on the world. He advocates science as the one true alternative, offering a sure rescue from the perceived absurdities of religion. He regularly joins adversarial debates on the subject of creationism versus evolution and makes no bones about being a Darwinist.

To give you an idea of the kind of attack he makes, in a talk in February 1999, sponsored by the Guardian, he said,

“Religions are not imaginative, not poetic, not soulful. On the contrary, they are parochial, small-minded, niggardly with the human imagination, precisely where science is generous.”

And yet his alternative is based on a disinterested, mechanical process. He has developed the idea that biological history is governed by the meme, his moniker for ‘selfish gene’. In the Guardian talk he explains things thus,

“DNA is the main kind of replicating entity that we know…Any adaptation is for the good of the genes which made that adaptation.”

So, is Dawkins correct is assuming as first principle that there is a dichotomy between religion and science that will never be overcome, or is Einstein right when he sees the one informing the other? The biologist Mike Poole in an article on the Internet says this on the subject:

“Some people think of science and Christianity as in conflict…The 'conflict thesis' is a relatively recent idea, from the 19th century. But for most of its history - certainly the first 300 years - modern science and Christianity were regarded as going hand-in-hand. But, as a contemporary historian of science, Dr Geoffrey Cantor of Leeds University points out, ideas of conflict 'are not adequate as general claims about how science and religion have been interrelated in history ... Much historical research has invalidated the conflict thesis.”

Even today the idea of conflict is still deeply entrenched in the folklore of society. So why has it persisted for so long? Another historian of science, Prof. John Brooke of Lancaster University suggests a reason:

“To assert that the findings of science have gradually eroded or disproved the cherished dogmas of the church is one of the ways by which a secular society justifies its unbelief.”

Professor Brooke is undoubtedly right, today’s secular society will eagerly grasp and affirm the propaganda of Dawkins and others of similar persuasion to bolster their anti-God prejudice. Such blinkered ignorance and arrogance should be given no latitude. But neither should credence be given to the religious fraternity who would likewise exploit the supposed science/religion conflict for their own shameless ends. Rather, there is urgent need for informed society to reacquaint itself with the common ground between science and theology, to see them as complimentary disciplines that have much to learn and gain from a co-operative relationship.

Historically, universities regarded theology as a science, and not only that but the queen of the sciences, and such was it called. Perhaps the church and the modern theologian have sold out this heritage with work that has been less than rigorous. Certainly, there has been far less assurance and belief in the rightness of theological truth that has given the scientist, who is not so encumbered by self-introspection and doubt, the upper hand to march on unchecked with proclamation of scientific truth as a worthy substitute.

To return briefly to Richard Dawkins’ Guardian address, he said at the outset of his speech,

“The adversarial approach to truth isn’t always the best one. On the contrary, when two people disagree strongly, a great deal of time may be wasted.”

Amen to that! A pity then that he doesn’t follow his own advice.

God and The Beginning

There are two basic areas of conflict that arise in the science/religion debate. The most fundamental is the existence of God. The other is the creation: what happened at the beginning? From here the waters are muddied by all kinds of details: the human soul and mind, the place of mankind in creation, truth, morality, and so on and so forth. Indeed, we might well be advised to include the philosopher in our deliberations in addition to the scientist and the Christian theologian.

Here is a simple proposition to help us think about both the big questions at the same time. There are two incredible explanations of our existence. Either the universe inexplicably just happened to pop (or bang) into existence all by itself one dark non-existent morning. Or there was an outside agent, who we call God, who brought the universe into being.

The scientist has told us much about creation right down to a minute split second after the Big Bang started, but he cannot proceed to point zero or before. And the theologian cannot prove beyond doubt that God exists. Stalemate.

Yet there is some common ground. The scientist assumes that the universe works on pattern, mathematical code, physical laws, call it what you will. If it were not so, then the scientist could not satisfactorily go about his business because experimentation would be impossible. But the constant nature of observable patterns in all of the creation enable him to make sense of that creation and to progress in his understanding. Let us also note that the scientist is largely an observer who seeks to explain what is already there, to answer the question ‘How’. How does the universe work and how can we adapt what we learn in useful ways?

When answering the charges of science, the theologian will turn invariably to the Book of Genesis, written according to tradition by the patriarch Moses, a man who claimed to have a unique one-to-one relationship with God. Pervading the creation story and God’s dealings with the earliest nations and Israel is one overriding idea, that God brings order and pattern out of disorder and chaos. Chapter 1 of Genesis describes six ‘days’ of creation. The word day is used with at least three separate meanings. What is common to them all is that they describe an imposed division of some kind. On each day God speaks. On the first day, God says, “Let there be light…” The text remarks that there was a consequence of this command, “…and there was light.” The imposed division is between light and dark.

Using modern thinking these early chapters of Genesis could be teaching, “God fed in the data, and the computer switched on the lights.” God created the universe by his word, that is the Biblical position. A word is nothing more than a piece of code or data that can be analysed mathematically. Language, where we string words (bytes) together in particular sequences (programmes) is logical and conveys meaning (a result or print-out). Instructions within it are carried to the recipient. At the turn of the second millennium we are all quite comfortable with the way in which digital binary code can be used in a computer programme to assist us with our word processing, but the man in the Middle Ages would not have appreciated this. To him, “And God said…” makes much more sense than, “And God fed in the data.”

Other than demonstrating pattern and order, the Bible does nothing to flesh out the scientific questions with which we are bursting. It is not a Haynes Manual for the budding scientist, for it does not address the question ‘How’, but rather the question ‘Why’. Why did God create the universe and human life in particular? It seeks also to show us the character of God and the first lesson for us to learn is that God is utterly consistent in his law-making, ordering all things just so. The Genesis account shows that God calls mankind into this process of bringing order out of disorder.

In Chapter 1 God delegates to us the responsibility to care for the natural order telling us to ‘rule over’ it. In Chapter 2, man is brought into a garden and told to work it and tend for it. What is a garden but the taming and ordering of nature? So the work we do will involve the observation of nature’s patterns and cycles and the learning of techniques to intervene and control them, at least to some extent. Then, later in the chapter God brings all birds and animals before man to be named, and he learns how to classify. Furthermore, God also gives mankind the freedom of the world, albeit apart from the famous tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It has been remarked by many people that in these things God was inviting us to go on journey of scientific discovery, that he specifically withheld the physical information about the creation so that we might have the joy of piecing the cosmic jigsaw together. It is fascinating to note that we still spend a tremendous amount of money and effort in this pursuit, whether in the laboratories of our universities or in our space programmes. There is a fundamental need within man to know about the world and the universe, and it is indeed a place full of wonders. Of course Mr. Dawkins can tell us how science can fill our souls with awe, but the Bible tells us why: it is the awesome plan of the generous creator. So ‘religion’ can hardly be ‘not imaginative, not poetic, not soulful…parochial, small-minded and niggardly’ as Mr. Dawkins would have us believe.

Philosophy

This section of my essay may appear to be something of a diatribe against the scientific non-believer but my intention is still to show that there is no dichotomy between their profession and belief in God. In fact I must stress that there is no evidence to suggest that the percentage of believers is any smaller in the scientific community than it is in society aa a whole. Atheistic scientists appear to operate their intellectual lives within a flawed argument. This criticism may be unfair but I have yet to read an article by any of them which resolves the problem, let alone even addresses it.

They propose, either boldly or implicitly, that if we can understand fully the science of the world, then our superstitious need to invent gods will, or at the very least should disappear. The problem with this is that to have such full understanding of something tells us nothing directly about why it exists in the first place or its purpose, but it does raise some interesting questions about these matters and to refuse contemplating them at all is a cop-out.

The scientist can explain much about a chocolate cake, for example. She can tell us about the cocoa tree, and about the molecular composition of the ingredients and what happens to it in the preparation and cooking process. She can measure and describe the cake in any number of ways. But such knowledge does not do away with the cook!

Science can go on to tell us why people crave such foodstuffs and why we bother cooking cakes in the first place. scientists would understand that this wonderful object they are examining was willed into existence and that it has a purpose. But they can only do this because they can also examine the cook who is part of the observable universe. If no cook were observable then it would be absurd to simply say that no cook existed and that any belief in a cook is superstition. Rather they would be hard put to it not to extrapolate from the observed facts that there exists such a thing as a cook.

It is surely no different with creation. Just because we understand the mechanics and mathematics of the universe does not negate its creator. Rather, the opposite is more likely, that it helps us understand that there is a ‘cook’ and why and how he created this ‘cake’. St. Paul understood this argument. In Romans 1:19-21 he says, “since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (the italics are mine). Scientific understanding should enhance and underline our knowledge of God, not destroy him. Science and religion are two sides of the same coin and are not different currencies.

No, the real issue is probably deeper seated than this. I would like to suggest what that issue is and why the non-believing scientist has an interest in avoiding any reference that might force him to declare his hand. Observed understanding of the world is not really enough for some, and they hold out the promise of this comprehensive knowledge bringing in its wake the ability for man to utterly control and shape his world. In other words, if we can mould the very elements that have hitherto been the preserve of God then we can usurp him, make him redundant both practically and intellectually.

"Men have become like gods ... Science offers us total mastery over our environment and over our destiny." Edmund Leach.

Genetic engineering of foodstuffs has recently brought this agenda into the public gaze like no other. Like the builders of the Tower of Babel, we say, ‘Let us make a name for ourselves’ by using our ingenuity to challenge God by reaching and claiming the heavens for our own. St. Paul again in Romans 1:18-19 expresses distinctly what is really happening when he talks of, “the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to men, because God has made it plain to them.” (the italics are again mine). It is biblical language that sounds strange to us but it means that the (scientific) atheist’s denial of God is not because they don’t know there is a God but that their agenda is deliberately to oppose God by whatever means they can: it is in reality an affair of the heart and not really of the intellect, albeit dressed up in those clothes.

Morality

The author of the site at www.gennet.org says in his introduction,

“Creation implies that man is ultimately accountable to the Creator and evolution implies that man is ultimately accountable to no one save himself.”

A description for sin that is usefully succinct points out that the middle letter of the word sin is the letter ‘I’. It is when I make my own moral decisions rather than accept God’s moral law that I sin, when I put myself at the centre and Jesus elsewhere or nowhere.

Tom Stoppard grappled with the implications of morality in a Godless world in his play Jumpers. Like Immanual Kant and G.E. Moore before him he wondered whether it was the motive or the outcome of an action on which that action should be judged good or bad. Also, his hero ponders what the term good actually means:

“Is a good action one that produces happiness, and is happiness best described as peace of mind or hedonistic gratification. More importantly, is good (as opposed to evil) a quality that can have any meaning apart from God?”

The eponymous jumpers are the hero’s colleagues who are moral jumpers. In other words, their morality changes with the situation and is entirely selfish: if an action suits their own personal whim then it is morally justified, and that includes murder. Accountability becomes personal.

Let us not lose sight of the fact that personal moral accountability is not necessarily individual but may well be social in its outworking. The individual defers to a social grouping in certain moral issues because he sees his best interests served by so doing. Whilst such social grouping may lend respectability to doubtful actions it does not mean the actions are inherently moral of themselves. The selfish gene of Richard Dawkins is an example of arguments that use science to undermine morality (being of God) and promote moral jumping. In seeing history as the story of the meme (the selfish gene) he takes genetics out of the moral environment of the creator, to whom genetics is a creative mechanism, and places it centre stage where it begs the question whether morality is even relevant to life – why waste breath on it?  Without a God who sets limits and judges foul play there is no final sanction against wrong-doing. Atheistic evolution is an absentee master without scruple, and the selfish man is free to justify any action at all.

Dignity

"I was just thinking ..... that here we are, all of us, eating and drinking, to preserve our previous existence, and that there's nothing, nothing, absolutely no reason for existing." Jean-Paul Sartre

"If one puts aside the existence of God .... one has to make up one's mind what is the meaning and use of life ... Now the answer is plain, but so unpalatable that most men will not face it. There is no reason for life, and life has no meaning." Somerset Maugham

"What is life for? To die? To kill myself at once? No, I am afraid. To wait for death till it comes? I fear that even more. Then I must live. But what for?" Leo Tolstoy.

“Although scientists can't give us an answer to this important why question (what is life for?), a certain Jesus Christ claims that he can. Jesus said that each of us is created by God to live in a personal relationship with him. That is why we are here - because God created us to enjoy being with him.” Nick Pollard, Scripture Union.

To mention human dignity may seem a rather subjective way of ending a paper on science and belief that I have tried to make objective so far as I am able, but, as the quotations show, bound up with this whole problem is the human desire for meaning. Whether this meaning is something we have to make up for ourselves to fill the vacuum of despair that results from godless reasoning, or whether it is given to us by a loving God, all of us need meaning.

We have already looked at the enormous resources humanity pours into scientific research. Much of that is concerned with who and what we are, with our place in the natural order, and where we came from. This instinctive drive is a question of identity. Are we glorified carriers of genes in an inexplicable universe, or are we the wanted children of a creator who shared our humanity for thirty years before dying for us? If it is the second, then we all matter, and we all have a dignity, and we all have a hope. And, having faith in God-in-the-flesh, Jesus Christ is not the emotional, anti-scientific position that it is so often portrayed to be. And neither is science the destroyer of dreams and hope, and of the gospel, the good news that God is in control of all things.