29 January 2007

Praise the Source of Faith and Learning

Praise the source of faith and learning
Who has sparked and stoked the mind
With a passion for discerning
How the world has been designed.
Let the sense of wonder flowing
From the wonders we survey
Keep our faith forever growing
And renew our need to pray:

God of wisdom, we acknowledge
That our science and our art
And the breadth of human knowledge
Only partial truth impart.
Far beyond our calculation
Lies a depth we cannot sound
Where your purpose for creation
And the pulse of life are found.

May our faith redeem the blunder
Of believing that our thought
Has displaced the grounds for wonder
Which the ancient prophets taught.
May our learning curb the error
Which unthinking faith can breed
Lest we justify some terror
With an antiquated creed.

As two currents in a river
Fight each others’ undertow
‘Til converging they deliver
One coherent steady flow.
Blend, O God, our faith and learning
‘Til they carve a single course
While they join as one returning
Praise and thanks to you their source.
---Thomas H. Troeger (born 1945)

To hear this hymn sung, fast-forward to the end of this feature video by Francis Collins (if you have an hour, listen to the lecture too; its great).

05 January 2007

Are Religious Faith and Science Compatible?

Are religious faith and science compatible?

The question gets asked a lot and often in just that phrasing. That’s unfortunate since it is almost never clear from the question what exactly ‘compatible’ should mean in this context. If it means, can a single person take the claims of science and claims of faith seriously and hold to both, then clearly the answer is ‘yes’ since there are hundreds of professional scientists and thousands of non-professionals who do just that. Furthermore, it isn’t clear just from the wording what is meant by ‘religious faith.’ Any religious faith? All religious faith? Christian faith?

In conversations with everyone from atheists to creationists, I find that what is typically meant by the question is really something like “Can we accept science as a valid framework for understanding the world while at the same time allowing for some presence of the supernatural in the same world?” There are basically three answers to this question on the market. Two of them are “no.” Fundamentalists, for instance, stake their theology on a highly literal interpretation of the Bible. For them, science and the Bible compete for explaining historical events. Where the two conflict, one must be wrong and for them it must be science. Since the conclusions of science in most of these conflicts are unarguably on scientific grounds, the fundamentalist conclusion is that there must be something essentially wrong with science itself (though seldom is an attempt made to explain exactly what this might be).

The other ‘no’ answer comes from scientist atheists, led around these days by Richard Dawkins. The claim here is that science, by definition, deals with the natural. The natural can be examined, augmented, described, explained. In contrast, the supernatural cannot enter into scientific thinking science the supernatural, by definition, cannot be investigated, described, or explained. Therefore, the two are incompatible. If one accepts a scientific worldview, then one must have a natural worldview. There can be no supernatural.

The third answer is a “yes” and, in its popular form, comes from the late evolutionist Stephen Jay Gould and has a name: Nonoverlapping Magesteria (NOMA). This answer says that religion and science deal with fundamentally difference domains of knowledge. Therefore, they really have little to say to one another when practiced properly. Science may tell us how the earth came into being, but it can never tell us why it came into being. Religion may tell us about humanity’s purpose in life, but can reveal nothing about our cosmic history.

While there certainly is something truthful about the position of NOMA (science really cannot give us purpose; religion really cannot give us geology), a moment of deeper thoughts tells us that this is an idealization that needs to be refined considerably. Consider Christianity. This faith makes explicit claims about miracles such as spontaneous healing and physical raising from the dead. These claims cannot be dismissed (unlike claims about the age of the earth) because their literal truth is central to Christian doctrine. Without Jesus’ actual physical resurrection, we have no Christianity. Without the miracles of Jesus’ time and those of the Old Testament, we are left with a watch-maker God who does not interact with humans or intervene in their history. While this might be someone’s God, it is clearly not the God of the Bible.

And so, if religion and science really are compatible in some real sense and the Dawkins’ and Creationists of the world are wrong, there must be a fourth answer to the question I started with. I believe that there is and that it is somewhat particular to the Judeo-Christian view of God set out in the Bible. In the Bible, God is depicted as being constantly active in the goings on of his creation, but in two distinct ways. In one way, God is the source of creation – of its substance and of its laws. He is the great Sustainer, holding the sun in the sky. All things flow from him and the laws he set the universe to obey do not discriminate. As Jesus put it, “he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and his rain to fall on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45). However, in another way, God clearly shows favorites. From amongst all the humans on earth, he chooses particular individuals to carry out particular commands with particular purposes. He has a “chosen” people that both experience his blessings and wrath in exceptional ways. For these people, God is not just the Sustainer, but also the Provider. When they need him, he intervenes (not always in pleasant ways). For them, he is willing to break the rules that he put in place to govern the universe. He can do this because, well, he’s God. And so Pharoah’s army is drowned, the Israelites get manna in the desert, Elijah rides a chariot of fire to heaven, Jesus rises from the dead, and Paul is blinded on the road to Damascus.

The crucial difference between these two ways that God interacts with human history is not really that one is natural and one is supernatural. These terms are, after all, only definable in a circular way (that which is natural is anything that isn’t supernatural; that which is supernatural is that which isn’t natural). The crucial property (what makes something “natural”) is systematicity. Science can only investigate systems: machinery (no matter how complex) that consists of effects and their causes. If something is not systematic, if an action has no cause, if it is a singularity – in that case, science has very little to say about it. What I believe the Bible teaches is that God interacts with the world in some ways that are systematic and sustaining. This is what we typically call “natural” – the principled laws of the universe that can and should be actively investigated, defined, explained. (In fact, I believe the Bible mandates that we do investigate nature, a topic for another essay). However, God also interacts in non-systematic ways, what we typically call the “supernatural” or “miraculous.” Crucially, such events are singularities. They are not consequences of God’s sustaining laws of nature, but the results of God’s direct actions. Since God acts only according to his own will, they have no cause. Being completely unsystematic, they are therefore outside the realm of scientific investigation. This is why scientific studies about the effects of prayer on hospital patients and the like really tell us nothing. God’s direct interventions are not caused by prayer (to think so is a fundamental misunderstanding of Christian teaching about prayer), or by anything else. If they were, they would be systematic and could be predicted.

Notice, however, that I did say science has very little to say about the miraculous. The supernatural, as a collection of singularities, cannot be investigated. However, they can be detected and defined as singularities. Science can examine an event and throw up its hands. In fact, the Catholic church has been actively engaged in this sort of practice for a few hundred years in its process of sanctifying particular individuals. In order to become an official Saint, a person has to have a certain number of miracles attributed to them. These miracles are fully investigated and often include the testimony of scientific authorities. One of the primary things church authorities look for is a complete lack of scientific explanation for the event; if there is even a slightly plausible natural explanation, the church is very hesitant to grant miracle status. (I use this example because the Catholic Church is particularly rigorous about investigating miracles. However, history books, churches, and grocery store tabloids are full of unexplained events. That is not to say that they are all miracles, or even all singularities. However, it is hubris to proclaim that one day science will explain them all in a systematic fashion. Or at least it is a matter of faith.)

So the position of NOMA has been tweaked here a bit and given a religious bias. It is not the case that science and religion address distinct domains in a general sense. Since religion is about God and God is the source of everything, everything is in religion’s domain. However, it is the case that science can only address a specific (and incredibly important) realm of everything, namely systems. It is in the goals of the addressing of this domain that the ‘nonoverlap’ of NOMA comes in: science’s goal is to discover, describe and explain the properties of these systems. Religion’s goal is to ask what these systems might tell us about the nature of creation, God, and human purpose. This is why I believe religion must take scientific findings seriously – we cannot properly consider God’s purposes without knowing the nature of his creation in concrete ways.

When it comes to non-systematic events, however, the goals of science cannot be accomplished. Science must therefore be satisfied with merely identifying the unexplainable. The general goals of religion, however, can still be accomplished for a singularity may still point to truth and purpose.

Are faith and science compatible? Clearly the answer is ‘yes.’ It is no surprise, then, to find that those who answer ‘no’ often have non-scientific reasons for their conviction. Creationists cannot condemn evolution without speaking of the evil moral implications of a Darwinist worldview; Dawkinsians cannot condemn religion without talking about the moral evils that religious zealots have wreaked on society over the millennia. While social questions are perfectly valid for choosing one conviction over another, they have nothing whatsoever to do with whether or not science and faith are compatible in an intellectual sense. I suspect that neither party really cares about whether science and faith can really get along, rather that they just don’t want them to.

04 January 2007

Science, Predestination and Free Will

While the (in)compatibility of evolution and Christian beliefs is often at the center of the science-faith dialogue, it is clear that evolution is not a serious challenge to Christian faith. It is only a serious challenge to a literal interpretation of certain scriptural passages, and one that has never been insisted upon by orthodoxy.

Unfortunately, other areas of scientific research which really do offer challenges for Christian faith get far less attention. Right now, for instance, many in the scientific community are seriously discussing an issue that has been at the core of Christian faith since its beginning: do humans really have free will or not? Read about it here in a recent NYTs article. The question naturally arises in science for a simple reason: every system we have investigated has eventually turned out to be deterministic and computational (big words that mean "based on concrete rules"), even complex ones (except for systems that appear to be totally random). For every effect, there is a cause. Can the system of human choice be any different? Are humans "free moral agents" with full power over the choices they make, or is every choice we make just the effect of a computational algorithm caused by a combination of genetically-endowed resources and input from the environment? Are we just really complex machines?

Many experiments (the pioneering work of Benjamin Libet in the 70s, for example) suggest that decision making is indeed somewhat of an illusion. Libet hooked people's brains up to sensors and asked them to make simple decisions. What he found is that the area of the brain associated with the act of the decision (pushing a button, for example) was activated a split second before the area of the brain used in making conscious decisions. In other words, the decision was made before it was made, suggesting that decision making itself isn't what we think it is.

The implications here for morality and ethics are obvious. If our actions are determined not by a conscious choice, but by a system of hard-set rules, can we be held responsible for them? The question is a familiar one in Christian theology as well where the Calvinist viewpoint holds that humans do not choose to follow God, but that God chooses them through a system of pre-determination. This reformed view raises serious questions about free will: if no one chooses to follow God, does anyone choose to do anything? A strong reformed view is that every action of every human, good or evil, is predetermined by God for the purpose of God's continual and eventual glorification. Obviously this leads to the same ethical question science is raising: if none of our actions are the results of conscious decisions (but are rather the results of God's choice, or computational algorithms), are we responsible for them?

In resolving this conflict, I have to admit that science seems to have the edge. That's because science has identified a property of human thought that other species do not seem to have: the ability to reflect on our own thoughts. This unique ability affords us the ability to reach conclusions in our heads and consider them carefully before we commit to action. It allows us imagination: the ability to ask 'what if' and consider several possible conclusions. In more technical terms, it allows us to consider varying the input to our computational thought process in an unlimited number of what, thus reaching an unlimited number of outputs from which we can choose. Now, this is not to say that the final choice itself is not also computationally determined, but the ability to consider multiple outcomes, allow for some and dismiss others essentially yields us what we consider to be moral choice. It also yields responsibility.

While this synthesis of determinism, free will and responsibility isn't perfect or fully understood, I have to say that I have yet to hear such a satisfying synthesis of the Reformed and Arminian positions from Christian theology. Typically all one hears is talk of "tension" and "dialectic." I am not a biblical scholar, but I can't help wondering, can the scientific understanding of free will and determinism discussed above help us out here? It seems worth thinking about. What if, analogically, the biblical concept of pre-destination is taken to more like pre-disposition? From birth (or before) God plants in us the seeds that largely determine if we will follow him or not; these "seeds" include things like the religion of our parents, where we live, our genetic make-up, etc. While these factors are very likely to determine whether we follow God or not (most humans adopt the religion of their parents and geographical location unquestioningly), there is still a choice involved. Those "born as Christians" can choose to veto that status by considering variations on their environmental input and choosing an alternate conclusion; similarly, those not "born" as followers of God can undertake the same experiment, choosing to follow God. On this understanding, the reformed tradition of predestination carries a lot of weight: we have no control over who our parents are, what are genes tell us to do or think, or where we are born. But so does the Arminian tradition: since we can consider our own thoughts, we can imagine alternative scenarios for our lives, genes, and location and adopt any of the conclusions this exercise leads us to.

The picture that emerges both from science and Christian theology turns out to look very similar. Both tell us that because of our status as products of creation and physical beings in a physical world, nearly everything about us is the result of physical processes based on concrete (though complex) rules. However, because of a unique property that our species possesses, we have a special status in creation: the power to make choices.

I am not saying here that this is the only possible synthesis of scripture for free will, nor am I saying that science should dictate what we believe about God's nature and intentions. My main point is this: the investigation of God's creation does not pull us away from our faith, but draws us toward it, inviting us to consider the nature of God's actions in serious and possibly enlightening ways.