I have been on a science and physics kick lately, watching
the entire rebooted Cosmos series and reading “The Big Picture” by Sean
Carroll. I recommend both works as they are well-presented and challenging. They
are both, decidedly, dismissive of theism. In some ways, I believe this is why
it is important to expose myself to them. If I coddle my own faith by refusing
to consider persuasive contrary evidence, it becomes a static heirloom rather
than a living journey.
Science has and continues to play an integral role in
explaining the mechanism of our reality, but it becomes overextended when it
attempts to make sense of why there is a reality at all (or why that reality
found itself inhabited by beings capable of contemplating it). Please do not
misunderstand me, I am not a young-Earth creationist and my belief in God is
not predicated upon the acceptance of a 6,000 year-old planet. I do not believe
that Darwin was the anti-Christ or that he proposed a framework incompatible
with the idea of an omnipotent Creator. If my child becomes ill, I pray and take them to the pediatrician
because I can find no compelling evidence that those are mutually-exclusive
courses of action.
I have never understood the hostility between religion and
science. For centuries, scientists and those who dared to challenge their
society’s prevailing views concerning our physical world have been persecuted
by religious authorities. When scientists had the audacity to claim we did not
inhabit the center of the universe, we interpreted truth as apostasy. When
dinosaur bones were discovered, many dismissed the idea as fraudulent since
they were not mentioned in scripture and were not identified as passengers on
Noah’s Ark. As science has methodically uncovered humanity’s role in affecting
the way our planet operates, we reflexively push back against any suggestion
that we have control over the creation we attribute to our God.
The frightening truth is that these reactions tell us far
more about the strength of our faith than the influence of science. Does our God’s
reputation suffer when a universe we attribute to Him is constantly being
revealed as more complex than we dared imagine? Should I be troubled by the
implication that complex emotions can be identified through the interactions of
millions of intricately-woven neurons and synapses? Should I be ashamed that I would
rather err on the side of caution than treat God’s creation with apathy?
Meanwhile, many scientists have dismissed faith in God as a philosophical
crutch required to steady the weak-minded and the uneducated.
At this point in history, the brightest minds in cosmology
believe that there was a Big Bang and that in that exact moment there were
equal amounts of matter and anti-matter. Despite this, matter – and over eons –
consciousness prevailed to become what it is today. Logically-speaking, that
shouldn’t have happened. What long-term survival value does conscience bring to
the table for humanity? Why would a random collection of molecular material
reacting to the forces outlined by scientific inquiry develop the ability to
grieve, hate, and love? Why was their ever a single-celled organism to evolve
from? Why do we allow ourselves to become so enamored with the architecture
that we miss the architect?
This is commonly known as the fine-tuning theory. The idea is
that there are so many variables that must interact in such a specific way in
such a narrow window of time to produce life, that the most logical explanation
is that there must be a greater intelligence behind it. In other words,
complete happenstance is harder to prove than the existence of God.
If you hear an orchestra playing a symphony, you would
logically assume the resulting sound is the product of skilled musicians
reading from the same piece of music under the direction of a conductor. Is
this the only possibility? No. It is also possible that an unrelated group of
novices stumbled upon the same room full of instruments at the same time and
all began independently emitting random noises which sound like Beethoven’s
Fifth. But we can all agree that is far less likely.
At present, the scientific rebuttal for this line of thinking
is the multiverse theory. It states that there are endless realities all
occurring simultaneously and we just happen to inhabit the reality where the
novices got lucky. After all, there are trillions of other realities where the non-musicians sound as discordant and awful as we would expect them to. Of
course, we are no more likely to prove this than we are the divinity of Christ.
Even more maddening is the possibility that the fundamental laws of physics we
observe here might only exist here on not translate to an alternate reality.
Religion owes science a debt of gratitude. It was science that
dared to suggest birth-defects and infertility could be genetic phenomenon
rather than punishment by God. It is science that reminded us that tornadoes and
hurricanes are the result of meteorological conditions rather than supernatural
judgments. It is science that differentiated depression and bi-polar disorder from
demonic possession. Science whispers in our ears each time we open a pediatric
cancer research center instead of attributing the diagnosis to “God’s will” and
giving up.
I believe the world we inhabit was designed and created by an
architect. I believe that same architect is the reason humans and consciousness
exist as they do today. I believe that architect cares about what happens to us
and the creation we inhabit. I believe that the clearest view of that
architect’s hopes and intentions for His creation can be seen through the words
and actions of His son, Jesus Christ.
I also believe that the clearest way to understand and
appreciate the world of that architect is through the lens of science. I believe
that God rejoices each time someone receives a life-saving vaccine or a smoke
alarm prods a family to safety. I believe that His will is done when an amputee
receives a bionic limb or contaminates are removed from a community’s drinking
water. There are always going to be some points of contention between these
worlds and I understand the difficulties in reconciling sacred texts with
observed reality, but I believe there is far less dividing us than we think.