Emerging Scholars Blog

InterVarsity's Emerging Scholars Network

History of Science

How Can the History of Science Encourage the Church? Part 3: Modern Christianity (STEAM Grant Series)

isaac newton photo
Photo by dullhunk  Statue of Isaac Newton outside the British Library.

ESN is currently creating a Faith/Science curriculum for young adult small groups. We’ve partnered with InterVarsity graduate student discussion groups to identify faith/science questions that are important to emerging scholars, and we’re commissioning thoughtful Christians in science or theology/philosophy/history of science to explore those questions in this series at the ESN blog. We will then publish these posts as a booklet curriculum for campus groups. You can find previous posts in the series and related posts here. Today, we are delighted to present the final post of a special three-part exploration of the history of science within this faith/science series. See last week’s account of medieval history here and the previous week’s post on the early church here. 

This project was made possible through the support of an award from the Science and Theology for Emerging Adult Ministries project at Fuller Theological Seminary. The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of Fuller or the STEAM project.

The “two books” metaphor—the belief that God has revealed Himself in both the book of Scripture and the book of nature—enjoyed its greatest currency in the early modern period (c. 1500-1800). But during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, a host of new and often competing natural philosophies emerged. Since natural philosophy was still seen as the “handmaiden of theology,” these competing theories of how the natural world works brought into conflict competing theological schools of thought. It is in this internecine warfare where we begin to see the true origins of what many contemporary historians of science call the “conflict thesis,” the notion that science and religion are fundamentally and irrevocably at odds. As we already intimated in the previous post, the collapse of the “two books” metaphor into the one book of nature took place in the early modern period. This collapse continues to profoundly shape contemporary discussions about science-religion relations. Therefore we shall close this series by fleshing out this process in more detail, and conclude with some reflections on how a better understanding of this history may encourage people of Christian faith.

Renaissance

The early modern period has been traditionally divided by historians as three successive events—the Renaissance, the Reformation, and the Scientific Revolution. These divisions or periodizations have been appropriately challenged by many contemporary historians, but they may still serve as useful signposts. As it relates to the relationship between science and Christianity, Renaissance thinkers pursued an even deeper and more comprehensive engagement with classical learning than that witnessed in the twelfth through the fourteenth centuries. The Renaissance witnessed the revival of a number of different strands of ancient thought about nature, including some of the more esoteric elements such as magic, astrology, alchemy and the Neoplatonic writings known as the “hermetic corpus.”[1]

But these pagan traditions often came into conflict with historical Christian theology. In this period, for example, we also see the revival of ancient Greek atomism. The rediscovery of Democritus (c. 460-370 BC), Epicurus (c. 341-270 BC), and especially Lucretius (c. 99-55 BC) gave rise to a crisis of atheism among some Christian theologians. Greek atomism provided reasons and arguments for materialism and a naturalized world. Strictly speaking, these ancient Greek writers did not deny the existence of the gods. Rather, they simply maintained that the gods care nothing for us and do nothing for us, and therefore we ought to be content with the simple pleasures of nature. This revived mechanical philosophy insisted that there is nothing eternal but matter and void, that the universe is not divinely created but the product of the impact and concurrence of atoms, guided by nothing else but chance and necessity. The Epicureans believed that the material world is best described in terms of interactions of tiny, indivisible particles. This mechanistic theory of matter obviously had great importance for the development of modern science.[2]

Early modern Christians attempted to accommodate the revival of Epicurean naturalism with Christian faith. From this attempt came the idea that the regularities observed in the natural world were thought of as “laws” imposed by God. Laws of nature, in short, were understood to consist in divine commands bestowed by a Lawgiver.[3] Thus most Christian writers throughout the Renaissance continued to see both reason and Scripture as valid sources of knowledge. Nevertheless, such attempts at reconciliation only served to heighten tensions. As we shall see, the problem of atheism will loom large in later treatises on natural philosophy and theology, particularly among the “English virtuosi” of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. If anything, the Renaissance revival of ancient atomism presented Christian thinkers with alternatives to the prevailing Aristotelian tradition.

Reformation

The Protestant Reformation, however, offered a unique challenge to ancient knowledge. Prominent Protestant reformers—and Martin Luther (1483–1546) in particular—were sharply critical of the pagan philosophical tradition, accusing the Roman Catholic Church of being “corrupted” by pagan thought. Moreover, the Protestant Reformation, although it was by no means a monolithic phenomenon, eroded the centralized authority of the Catholic Church, not only making possible the cultivation of heterodox religious positions but also allowing departures from the officially sanctioned range of scientific doctrines.[4]

While Luther was indeed a vociferous critic of Greek philosophy, railing against the admixture of pagan philosophy with Christian teaching in ways similar to Tertullian, other leading Protestant reformers were more moderate and somewhat more ambivalent in their views. According to John Calvin (1509-64), for instance, while Aristotle was “a heathen whose heart was perverse and depraved,” he was nevertheless “a man of genius and learning.”[5]

The Protestant condemnation of the authority of the Catholic Church should help to explain, in part, the Church’s reaction to the heliocentric hypothesis. While the Catholic Church had initially been quite complacent about Nicholas Copernicus’s (1473-1543) thesis that the earth and planets revolve around the sun, after the Reformation, when controversies about the interpretation of Scripture were at their height, the Holy Office was concerned to impose its authority on questions of biblical interpretation, particularly when Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) defended his position by claiming that the Bible teaches us how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go.[6]

Although the Protestant stress on Scripture was not new, Protestant insistence on the Bible’s “literal” sense seemed to spur scientific advance. This emphasis on a literal approach to understanding Scripture had an indirect bearing on approaches to the natural world. The Protestant emphasis on the literal sense of Scripture and a corresponding skepticism about the value of allegory and symbolism were accompanied by a new, literal reading of the natural world. When Protestants stripped the book of Scripture from its symbolic or emblematic meaning, all texts, including the book of nature, became open to a more literal interpretation. A hermeneutical revolution had taken place, both in interpreting the book of Scripture and the book of nature.[7]

Scientific Revolution

Against popular claims about their inherent incompatibility, it has long been established by historians of science that religious conviction frequently stimulated, rather than inhibited, scientific inquiry. But while this may be the case, definitions of “religion” and even “Christianity” were modified by some to better cohere with the new learning. During the so-called Scientific Revolution, the English virtuosi, men such as Francis Bacon (1561-1626), Samuel Hartlib (1600-1662), John Beale (1603-1683), Kenelm Digby (1603-1665), Thomas Browne (1605-1682), Benjamin Whichcote (1609-1683), Henry More (1614-1687), John Wilkins (1614-1672), John Wallis (1616-1703), Elias Ashmole (1617-1692), Ralph Cudworth (1617-1688), Walter Charleton (1619-1707), Henry Oldenburg (1619-1677), John Evelyn (1620-1706), John Aubrey (1626-1697), Robert Boyle (1627-1691), John Ray (1627-1705), Isaac Barrow (1630-1677), Christopher Wren (1632-1723), Robert Hooke (1635-1703), Thomas Sprat (1635-1713), and Isaac Newton (1642-1727), among many others, sought not only to demonstrate how God has revealed himself in nature, but how a more “rational” Protestantism provided an atmosphere more conducive to the sciences. Protestantism, in other words, embodied the principles that would allow for the progress of learning, society, and religion itself.[8]

Latitudinarian Theology

But a deeper reflection at once reveals that many of these men held rather unorthodox views of Christianity.[9] Indeed, many if not most were anti-Trinitarians, and some even denied the divinity of Christ. Most importantly, Latitudinarian divines, or liberal Anglicans, were deeply impressed by the new learning, and sought to minimize doctrinal discord by emphasizing human reason in understanding revelation. They frequently preached for a more “reasonable Christianity” at the pulpit. They were united in belief that the most serious threat to religion was the irrational, and thus hoped to continue the reformation of religion along more rationalistic lines. By emphasizing a more liberal theology, one which underplayed doctrine and opposed superstition, enthusiasm, and fanaticism, they hoped to align Christianity to the modern age.

John Locke

The philosophy of John Locke (1632-1704) is representative of the “rational supernaturalism” of the latitudinarian tradition, combining elements of a more liberal religion with scientific interest. In his Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690), for instance, Locke argued that the existence of God is “the most obvious truth that reason discovers,” that its “evidence” is “equal to mathematical certainty.”[10] For Locke, however, reason not only provided proof of the existence of God, it also established the criteria to judge what counted as genuine revelation. He argued that for revelation to be accepted it must be subject to reason. In his The Reasonableness of Christianity (1695), for instance, he argued that while religion is not contrary to reason, any divine revelation claimed by religion must be subject to the judgments of reason. Based on reason rather than superstition, such religion would abandon belief in such things as miracles, the virgin birth, and the Trinity, and would retain only the more rational and ethical elements of Christianity: belief in a creator God, in the brotherhood of man, the immortality of the soul, and the duty of love and care for one another.[11]

A Religion without Revelation

Many seventeenth- and eighteenth-century figures argued that the pursuit of science was itself a form of religious activity. Indeed, throughout the Scientific Revolution and the subsequent Enlightenment, religion and science remained closely intertwined.

But it must be emphasized at once that with the rise of modern science we also see the decline of a strictly more orthodox Christianity. One of the most striking patterns that emerges from an examination of the thought of early modern English and continental men of science, whatever their particular religious commitments, is an almost universal suspicion of theological dogma accompanied by a pronounced desire for religious compromise and unity. Thus when the so-called English deists first appeared during the period of the Enlightenment, they had an abundant selection of histories and rhetoric which supported their critique of orthodox Christianity. Protestant historians and natural philosophers in particular had produced numerous polemical books condemning the “irrational” and “corrupt” Catholic Church for continually obstructing the progress of religion and new knowledge. This anti-Catholic polemic easily transformed into an intra-Protestant critique.

Rather than advocating atheism, for example, the English deists proposed a new rational “natural religion” that would offer, they believed, a firmer basis for a more stable and prosperous society. With a more diffusive Christianity emerging, such men as Edward Herbert (1583-1648), Charles Blount (1654-1593), Matthew Tindal (1656-1733), Thomas Woolston (1669-1733), John Toland (1670-1722), Anthony Collins (1679-1729), Thomas Morgan (d. 1743), Thomas Chubb (1679-1747), Conyers Middleton (1683-1750), and Peter Annet (1693-1769), promoted a non-institutional, and therefore non-partisan and non-dogmatic, “natural religion.”[12]

That the English deists appropriated much of their understanding of history from their Protestant forebears is often overlooked by Christian apologists. Indeed, the borders between deism and liberal Christianity are difficult to establish. When abandoning the church for deism or natural religion, the English deists simply extended the Protestant critique of Roman Catholicism to include most or all of Christianity. For such thinkers all hierarchical established religion had been and still was “priestcraft,” instituted by the clergy for gain; they thus advocated a non-institutional belief in God.

More Recent Controversies

A generation later, such sentiments continued to be promoted by liberal Protestant thinkers. Of all of the topics that have fueled the antagonism between science and religion, evolutionism remains perhaps the only one with power to stimulate debate even today. Following the impact of geology and paleontology in the early nineteenth century, evolutionary theories seemed to many to challenge the story of human origins recounted in Scripture. Despite the ongoing sources of conflict, historians have shown that the conventional image of nineteenth-century Darwinism sweeping aside religious belief is an oversimplification. As a number of historians of science have pointed out, the religious response to Charles Darwin’s (1809-82) Origin of Species (1859) suggests more a compromise than a confrontation.[13]

But as we have intimated, historians of science often neglect to point out that more orthodox Christians remained strictly anti-Darwinian. That is, Darwinism, or some modified version of it, was supported by liberal intellectuals and religious thinkers, while more religiously conservative thinkers quite correctly pointed out the materialistic implications of Darwin’s theory. Many had indeed joined Presbyterian theologian Charles Hodge (1797-1878), for example, in declaring that Darwinism is tantamount to practical or effective atheism.[14]

Even today, the question of Darwinism remains hotly debated. From Young Earth Creationism to Theistic Evolutionism, there is an immensely wide spectrum of attempts at reconciling scientific discoverers and Christian faith. But as recent sociologists have shown, the conflict today is strikingly similar to the one in ages past.[15]

Conclusions

A brief survey of when science and Christianity meet reveals that there are no easy patterns of “conflict” or “concord.” The one pattern that does consistently emerge, however, is that by holding such negative attitudes toward traditional Christian theology, liberal Protestants of the early modern period actually eliminated the very possibility of having a genuine Christian dialogue with science, rather than just a monologue dominated by science. Men and women in the history of Christianity have perhaps been too eager to embrace the latest scientific “facts,” and have thus attempted too quickly to “harmonize” Christianity with these “facts.” But by doing so, many lost their faith in the process. This loss of faith should not be interpreted simply as mere atheism, which is almost never the case, but the abandonment of core Christian beliefs.

This danger remains present for Christians today. A recent study by the Pew Research Center, for example, found that while many Americans continue to believe in a higher power, a very small majority believe in the God of the Bible.[16] Here we must remind ourselves what the Apostle Paul told the church in Corinth many years ago. We ought to “demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God,” to “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10.5). When Paul says to “demolish” arguments and arrogant opinions against God and, to take thoughts or minds captive, he means the minds and thoughts of others. In other words, Paul is calling on the Corinthian Christians to demolish the boastful worldviews of the pagan Corinthians, taking their philosophies captive for Christ. And by implication, Paul is still calling on the Christian Church today to destroy arguments and take captive every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God.

Paul’s call is essentially the Augustinian approach to the non-Christian world and its ideas. Christians in science today can still plumb from the wisdom of the Bishop of Hippo, who wrote at least five commentaries on the creation narrative in Genesis. Augustine sought to defend the integrity of Genesis against other philosophers who criticized Genesis as legend or derided its narrative as irrational. He argued in response that human language is tricky, and to understand the meaning of words we must be careful to discern their intentions. When it comes to the biblical text, we must be attentive not only to the human element but also its divine source. According to Augustine, the purpose of the Bible is redemptive. As we have seen, he did not think knowledge of the natural world useless, but simply inferior to the knowledge of God in revelation. Since knowledge of the natural world is constantly changing, it is dangerous for the Christian to insist on the constancy of certain scientific theories. Augustine believed we become obstacles of salvation to others by equating a scientific theory with the meaning of the Bible. Not much has changed today. The Augustinian solution to conflict is humility both in the interpretation of nature and the interpretation of Scripture.

The history of science serves as a warning to Christians about embracing too quickly every new idea or new discovery in the natural world. What the history of science teaches the Church, in short, is that our faith must be placed not in the latest scientific discoveries or theories, but in Scripture and the guidance of Christian history. We must pursue our research, whether in the sciences or in the humanities, for the glory of God. For Augustine, all truth is God’s truth. Since He has revealed himself in both nature and Scripture, both are ultimately compatible. At the same time, we, as finite, fallible, and fallen creatures, must approach the study of these two books of God with the utmost humility and openness. We cannot do this alone. Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us constantly remind ourselves that while the grass withers and the flower fades, the Word of our God shall stand forever.

Questions

  1. What did you find most illuminating or helpful in this history of early modern interactions between science and faith?

 

  1. Having read all three parts of this short series on the history of science, what encourages you? What do you find most challenging about it?

 

  1. How would you translate what you have explored in this series to a conversation with a scientific colleague interested in faith/science questions?

 

  1. How would you translate what you have explored in this series to a conversation with a fellow church member interested in faith/science questions?

Notes

[1] See the classic study by Frances A. Yates, “The Hermetic Tradition in Renaissance Science,” in Charles S. Singleton (ed), Art, Science, and History in the Renaissance (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1968), 255-74.

[2] See William B. Ashworth Jr., “Christianity and the Mechanistic Universe,” in David C. Lindberg and Ronald L. Numbers (eds), When Christianity & Science Meet (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), 61-84. For an entertaining account of the recovery of these ancient Greek writers, see Stephen Greenblatt, The Swerve: How the World Become Modern (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2012).

[3] See, e.g., Edgard Zilsel, “The Genesis of the Concept of Physical Law,” The Philosophical Review, vol. 51, no. 3 (1942): 245-79; Francis Oakley, “Christian Theology and the Newtonian Science: The Rise of the Concept of the Laws of Nature,” Church History, vol. 30, no. 4 (1961): 433-57; and Alan G. Padgett, “The Roots of the Western Concept of the ‘Laws of Nature’: from the Greeks to Newton,” Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith, vol. 55, no. 4 (2003): 212-21.

[4] For a recent survey of the unintended consequences of the Protestant Reformation, see, e.g., Brad A. Gregory, Rebel in the Ranks: Martin Luther, the Reformation, and the Conflicts that Continue to Shape Our World (New York: HarperOne, 2017).

[5] John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of Psalms, 5 vols., trans. James Anderson (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949), 4.107.43.

[6] See, e.g., Maurice A. Finocchiaro, “That Galileo Was Imprisoned and Tortured for Advocating Copernicanism,” in Ronald L. Numbers, Galileo goes to jail, and Other Myths about Science and Religion (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 68-78.

[7] A number of scholars have argued that Protestantism had shaped, nurtured, and spurred the development of modern science. See, e.g., the famous thesis by Robert K. Merton, “Science, Technology, and Society in Seventeenth-Century England,” Osiris, vol. 4 (1938): 360-632. A more recent version of this thesis can be found in Peter Harrison, The Bible, Protestantism, and the Rise of Natural Science (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).

[8] See, e.g., Paul H. Kocher, Science and Religion in Elizabethan England (San Marino, CA: Huntington Library, 1953); Richard S. Westfall, Science and Religion in Seventeenth-Century England (Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1970); and Margaret C. Jacob, The Newtonians and the English Revolution: 1689-1720 (Hassocks, Sussex: The Harvester Press, 1976).

[9] See, e.g., John Brooke and Ian Maclean (eds), Heterodoxy in Early Modern Science and Religion (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005).

[10] John Locke, “An Essay concerning Human Understanding,” in Works of John Locke, 9 vols., 12th Ed. (London: Printed for C. and J. Rivington et al, 1824), 2.187-88.

[11] For a recent discussion of Locke’s theology, see Victor Nuovo, John Locke: The Philosopher as Christian Virtuoso (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017).

[12] See, e.g., Wayne Hudson, The English Deists: Studies in Early Enlightenment (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2009).

[13] Perhaps the best survey is James R. Moore, The Post-Darwinian Controversies: A Study of the Protestant Struggle to come to terms with Darwin in Great Britain and America, 1870-1900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979). See also David N. Livingstone, Darwin’s Forgotten Defenders: The Encounter between Evangelical Theology and Evolutionary Thought (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987).

[14] Charles Hodge, What is Darwinism? (New York: Scribner, Armstrong, and Co., 1874), 177.

[15] See, e.g., Eliane Howard Ecklund and Christopher P. Scheitle, Religion vs. Science: What Religious People Really Think (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017); and John H. Evans, Morals Not Knowledge: Recasting the Contemporary U.S. Conflict Between Religion and Science (Oakland: University of California Press, 2018).

[16] “When Americans Say They Believe in God, What Do They Mean? 2018,” Pew Research Center, Washington, D.C. (April 25, 2018): http://www.pewforum.org/2018/04/25/when-americans-say-they-believe-in-god-what-do-they-mean/.

STEAM logo

How Can the History of Science Encourage the Church? Part 2: Medieval Christianity (STEAM Grant Series)

cambridge university photo
Photo by llee_wu

ESN is currently creating a Faith/Science curriculum for young adult small groups. We’ve partnered with InterVarsity graduate student discussion groups to identify faith/science questions that are important to emerging scholars, and we’re commissioning thoughtful Christians in science or theology/philosophy/history of science to explore those questions in this series at the ESN blog. We will then publish these posts as a booklet curriculum for campus groups. You can find previous posts in the series and related posts here. Today, we are delighted to continue a special three-part exploration of the history of science in this faith/science series, written by James Ungureanu. See last week’s post on the early church here. 

This project was made possible through the support of an award from the Science and Theology for Emerging Adult Ministries project at Fuller Theological Seminary. The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of Fuller or the STEAM project. [Read more…] about How Can the History of Science Encourage the Church? Part 2: Medieval Christianity (STEAM Grant Series)

How Can the History of Science Encourage the Church? Part I (STEAM Grant Series)

history of science photo
Photo by Kotomi_

ESN is currently creating a Faith/Science curriculum for young adult small groups. We’ve partnered with InterVarsity graduate student discussion groups to identify faith/science questions that are important to emerging scholars, and we’re commissioning thoughtful Christians in science or theology/philosophy/history of science to explore those questions in this series at the ESN blog. We will then publish these posts as a booklet curriculum for campus groups. You can find previous posts in the series and related posts here. Today, we are delighted to introduce a special three-part exploration of the history of science in this faith/science series, written by James Ungureanu. 

This project was made possible through the support of an award from the Science and Theology for Emerging Adult Ministries project at Fuller Theological Seminary. The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of Fuller or the STEAM project. [Read more…] about How Can the History of Science Encourage the Church? Part I (STEAM Grant Series)

Science Corner: Looking Back to Move Forward

Title page of a medical manuscript by Hildegard of Bingen
One of two major works on medicine and health by Hildegard of Bingen. (Photo by ouhos )

Happy New Year! As folks transition back to campus and work and other normal routines from the holidays, I thought it would be a good time to take stock and lay out a plan for the coming months of science blog posts. There will still be posts about new developments in science, particularly as they pertain to faith questions or religious concerns. As I mentioned last week, we’ll try another round of the blog book club; I’m hoping to start that on February 7th. I also want to try some new kinds of posts as I continue to figure out the best balance of news coverage and bigger picture discussions.
[Read more…] about Science Corner: Looking Back to Move Forward

Finding Common Ground: Christians, Scientists, and History of Science

Boyle's_apparatus_for_compressing_air._Wellcome_M0014707Dr. Josh Swamidass will be speaking about faith and science at several upcoming Veritas Forums. The first is this coming Monday, February 22, at the University of Montana. If you’re in the area, check out details here. Here at ESN, we’ll be running a short tie in series exploring aspects of faith/science interaction related to Josh’s talks. This will be the first of a few posts, including several from Dr. Swamidass, and perhaps a piece or two from some of ESN’s other thoughtful science writers as well.

It often seems like science and our faith are in constant conflict. Christians and scientists are often at war, attacking each other’s views. However, in the history and philosophy of science, Christians and scientists can find substantial common ground.

Remarkably, scientific education includes almost no exposure to the history and philosophy of science. Most scientists know very little about science’s history outside the recent history of their narrow discipline. Scientists, however, are very curious about this history, and we can find common ground in it. Alongside their scientific work, I recommend Christians in science steadily and consistently study the history of science.

A useful overview of Christians in science history is For the Glory of God by Rodney Stark in 2003. My wife and I read it together a few years back. Some historians caution that Stark overstates the case for the Christian roots of science, and this may be true. Nonetheless, the overview is helpful, pointing out several key Scientist Christians and explaining the medieval context in which science was originally forged.

Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum from 1620 should be required reading for every scientist, and I read it in 1996 as a freshman. Here the entire modern scientific enterprise is founded. All the key components of the scientific method are here, including methodological naturalism, empiricism, reproducibility, falsifiability, and more. Stunningly, at least to me, all these components are explained as efforts to take down intellectual “idols,” so that we may see nature clearly. Bacon envisions science as a monastic religious exercise, a discipline devoted to turning from idolatry to see God’s work in nature clearly. Modern science, at its foundation, is explained in distinctly Christian terms..

I read Advice for a Young Investigator by the great scientist Santiago Ramón y Cajal in 1897 in undergrad as a biology student in 1998. Ramón y Cajal, it seems, left his Catholic upbringing, and was described by historians as “a liberal in politics, an evolutionist in philosophy, an agnostic in religion.”1 He later returned to belief, describing the scientist as a worshiper. “He renders to the Absolute the most pleasing and acceptable homage—studying His prodigious handiwork so as to know, admire, and revere Him through it.”2 Likewise, “He is devoted entirely to understanding something of that mysterious language that God has written in nature.”3 Just a few years after publishing Advice for a Young Investigator, he was awarded a Nobel Prize for his stunningly beautiful work that, essentially, founded the field of neuroscience.

I encountered Michael Polanyi’s work in 2001. He was a physician and a chemist, who eventually became most known for his work on the philosophy of science. Polanyi was also a Christian, and explained the profoundly human process of scientific discovery, and its silent dependence on trust and tacit knowledge. A gentle introduction to his work is available in an audio recording from Mars Hill Audio, Tacit Knowledge, Truthful Knowing in 1999: https://marshillaudio.org/catalog/tacit-knowing-truthful-knowing.

Currently, there is growing recognition that character is necessary in science. This echoes Bacon’s focus on ending idolatry, Ramón y Cajal’s mentorship on personal virtues, and Polanyi’s articulation of tacit knowledge. A branch of philosophy, “virtue epistemology,” is reviving this perspective and finds its scientific expression in Robert T. Pennock and “The Scientific Virtues Project.” Science in its culture silently defines many critical virtues and enforces several rituals to encourage their development. For example, Pennock cites “honesty,” “curiosity”, and “humility to data” as critical to scientific inquiry. Jesus speaks to this too, emphasizing the importance of being a “seeker” on a curious and humble quest for truth. Even when encountering evidence of God in nature, unless we seek, we will not see God. The character of a seeker is required for evidence to be understood. In this recognition of character by Jesus, I find substantial common ground with science.

I recently found Robert Boyle’s work. He was a devoted Christian and a scientist in the 1600s. The science historian Ted Davis is the leading expert on Boyle, and writes about him in a series available on the web. I was struck by Boyle’s focused devotion to science but careful thoughtfulness in theology too. In the current debates about methodological naturalism, his role in establishing this rule is important and instructive. The first post in the series is here: http://biologos.org/blogs/ted-davis-reading-the-book-of-nature/the-faith-of-a-great-scientist-robert-boyles-religious-life-attitudes-and-vocation-part-1.

Boyle was one of the first modern scientists. His work on air pumps in 1660 and mercury barometers in 1665 proposed the existence of a true vacuum. Foreshadowing the current creation debate, one of his critics, Francis Line, actually argued that divine intervention explained Boyle’s experimental results, because his theory was clearly wrong: “nature abhors a vacuum.” In his response, Boyle replied that the question is not “what God can do, but about what can be done by Natural Agents.” At the same time, Boyle was a Christian who believed that God has absolute power, could work outside the laws of nature at will, and certainly caused miracles like the Resurrection. Understanding His divine action and exploring theology, however, was completely outside the purpose and scope of science, which instead was narrowly concerned only with natural causes in the physical world. This story is explained in depth here: http://biologos.org/blogs/ted-davis-reading-the-book-of-nature/the-miraculous-meniscus-of-mercury.

As Christians, we know that human study of nature cannot reliably guide us to God (Romans 1:20-23). Neither human study of nature alone, nor any other human effort, brings us to God because we cannot reach Him on our own. God’s solution to this problem is to reveal Himself to us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Without God’s revelation, we would have no hope of finding Him. Without the willing sacrifice of the Cross, we would not know that God is good. Without the Resurrection, we would not know that Jesus was really from God. This is why scientists who are believers, just like all of us, come to faith because of the testimony of Jesus in history, not because of any specific understanding of creation.

I first read Blaise Pascal, the great scientist and mathematician, in high school. He was a contemporary of Boyle, and towards the end of his life started writing a book to explain his faith. He died before he finished, but we still get to see his notes, Pensees. Inspired by science, Pascal writes, “at the center of every human being is a God–shaped vacuum which can only be filled by Jesus Christ.” He also writes, that God “renders [us] incapable of any other end than Himself. Jesus Christ is the end of all and the center to which all tends.”4 Pascal’s example for us is important. He did not argue for the existence of an “unknown” god, but explained the world changing significance of the life, death and resurrection of the named “Jesus.” He declared the Gospel in a way that made sense to scientists. Closely connected to this declaration, though, is his emphasis on the weakness of arguments for God in science. Pascal echoes Romans when he writes, “All those who have claimed to know God, and to prove Him without Jesus Christ, have had only weak proofs.” Pascal, like Bacon and Paul, doubted that any human effort to study nature could bring us to God. Only through God’s work in Jesus, not the human study of nature, do we come to confident belief that God exists, is good, and wants to be known.

One of the most important books to read is The Language of God by Francis Collins, which I read in 2006 when it was published and I was in graduate school. This book is controversial among some Christians, because Collins advocates for evolution. But whether you agree with him or not about evolution, Collins correctly points to Jesus. Importantly, because Collins is so famous and the book was published right after the Dover Trial, many scientists who are not Christians also read this book. To this day, members of the science community curiously discuss his story. Collins confuses many scientists, because they do not understand how a single cancer patient could change the course of Collins’s life. As Christians we believe Collins encountered the living Jesus, and this changed everything. His story is a place Christians can find common ground with scientists who are not believers: a place of mystery where we, as Christians, clearly see Jesus and scientists who are not Christians can ask questions and explore.

I could go on and on. Even the controversial parts of scientific history, like the history of evolution and Galileo’s experience with the Catholicism of his day, expose a deep tradition of Christian thought in science (for example, Darwiniana by Asa Gray in 1888). This history is valued in science, even though many scientists forget. It is as if scientists labor in a grand house that someone else built a long time ago. We do not know why walls are placed in their particular ways. We do not know the original names of rooms and hallways. We do not even know our foundation is in theology. Forgetting the house’s history, we forget that Christians were among the house’s architects, and they have stories to tell about the things that happened here. Christians in science do well to study this history alongside their scientific work. These stories can point us to Jesus.

Scientists are curious about this history, and here we find substantial common ground. History tells us that modern science at its historical foundation—even with the rule of methodological naturalism—was compatible with acknowledging the Creator.

Even with all this common ground, Christians sometimes still find themselves at war with scientists. This is because so much effort is devoted by many Christians to politically attacking evolution, especially how it is taught in public schools. I don’t believe that Jesus calls us to fight culture wars to control how scientists teach science. He does, however, send us to declare the “word about Jesus” (Romans 10:13-17); we know an unimaginably good God exists and wants to be known because, according to prophecy, Jesus died, was buried, but then He rose again and was seen by many (1 Corinthians 15:4-5). Christians, especially those in science, should leave political battles over evolution alone, and instead explain Jesus from common ground.

Choosing peace in the creation war is radical, unexpected, and only makes sense in light of confident belief in Jesus. Creation pacifism rightly declares that nothing in science threatens Jesus. Nothing here diminishes Him. We should respect scientists’ right to teach science, and welcome everyone to consider Jesus.

Notes

1 John Brande Trend (1965). The Origins of Modern Spain. Russell & Russell. Carolyn Sattin-Bajaj (2010). Marcelo Suarez-Orozco, ed. Educating the Whole Child for the Whole World: The Ross School Model and Education for the Global Era. NYU Press.

2 Ramón y Cajal, Santiago (1999) [1897]. Advice for a Young Investigator. Translated by Neely Swanson and Larry W. Swanson. Cambridge: MIT Press.

3  This quote is in both his Nobel lecture and also his book. Ramón y Cajal, Santiago (1999) [1897]. Advice for a Young Investigator. Translated by Neely Swanson and Larry W. Swanson. Cambridge: MIT Press.

4 Pascal, Blaise (1958) [1660]. Translated by F. W. Trotter. Pensées. Christian Classics Ethereal Library.

Resources for Further Study

Bacon, Francis [1620]. Novum Organum. Project Gutenberg ebook version, edited by Joseph Devey: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45988/45988-h/45988-h.htm

Collins, Francis (2006). The Language of God. (New York: Free Press, an imprint of Simon & Schuster).

Davis, Ted (2013–2014). Reading the Book of Nature. The Faith of A Great Scientist: Robert Boyle’s Religious Life, Attitudes, and Vocation (blog series). Biologos blog. http://biologos.org/blogs/ted-davis-reading-the-book-of-nature/series/the-faith-of-a-great-scientist-robert-boyles-religious-life-attitudes-and-vocation

Mars Hill Audio (1999). Tacit Knowledge, Truthful Knowing: The Life and Thought of Michael Polanyi (audio recording): https://marshillaudio.org/catalog/tacit-knowing-truthful-knowing.

Pascal, Blaise (1958) [1660]. Translated by F. W. Trotter. Pensées. Christian Classics Ethereal Library. Available online here: http://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees.html

Pennock, Robert T. “The Scientific Virtues Project.” Website: https://www.msu.edu/~svp/

Ramón y Cajal, Santiago (1999) [1897]. Advice for a Young Investigator. Translated by Neely Swanson and Larry W. Swanson. Cambridge: MIT Press. Available online here: http://bbs.sciencenet.cn/upload/blog/file/2010/10/2010101216310315728.pdf

Stark, Rodney (2003). For the Glory of God. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Image Credit

Boyle’s apparatus for compressing air: Figure 1. Mecurial gauge Figure 3. Apparatus for compressing air Figure 4. A wind-gun. This file comes from Wellcome Images, a website operated by Wellcome Trust, a global charitable foundation based in the United Kingdom. Refer to Wellcome blog post (archive). Via Wikimedia Commons under a Creative Commons license.