Complexity, Simplicity and the Draw to Faith

Whenever a synthesis of faith and science is discussed, it is typical to hear Pslam 19 quoted. 'The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.' In other words, if we look closely at the world we live in, we'll clearly see that God is the one who created it. Many scientists of faith agree that this is the case, but if you listen closely you notice that there are two very different views on how it is that God can be perceived in nature.

Biologists and those in related fields often marvel at the complexity and intricacies of the natural world - the amount of information in a single DNA strand, the complex functionings of our bodies' various system, the intracate web of an ecosystem, etc. When one comes to appreciate the complexity of the natural world, they argue, one cannot help but fathom that there must be an intelligent God who put it all together. This is in fact part of the argument behind Intelligent Design's doctrine of irreducible complexity - things are so complex, they say, that they must have been designed purposely by an intelligent creator.

On the other side of the room, however, sit physicists of faith. Rather than pointing to the world's complexity, these scientists point in the opposite direction. For it has been the great pleasure of physicists to discover that the incredibly complex structure of the universe can in most cases be described with a few simple principles. This is so incredibly surprising and the principles work together in such elegant ways that one cannot help but see the genius of it and suspect there is a Genius behind it.

While I am always happy to hear any kind of scientists talk about why their work draws them to faith, in my opinion these two properties of the natural world do not sit on a level playing field when it comes to revealing God through his creation. Marveling at the complexity of cellular regeneration is all well and good, but marveling is all it is. How much one marvels at something will very much depend on one's personal experience. When I moved from Florida to Illinois some years ago, I used to marvel at the snow falling. I got used to it. Simplicity, on the other hand, is not a relative term. When you've explained a complex phenomenon in simplistic and elegant terms, you have discovered something about the nature of the thing, you have figured out not just how it works, but why it works the way it does and why it could never work any other way. You see that the thing was no accident, but the result of a confluence of very general, natural principles that themselves need little explanation. When that happens, it is difficult not to see the thing has having purpose and as having been on purpose.

It is my conviction that eventually biologists will talk the way physicists do about nature (sorry to leave you out, chemists - I've actually heard chemists give testimony on both sides of the room). Due mostly to technological advances, I think biology is on the verge of a revolution in discovering the simple and elegant principles that underlie some of those extremely complex systems and processes that invoke our awe. I think we'll one day understand evolution the same way we understand the Big Bang - as the result of a precise and beautiful calculation highly unlikely to have occurred and highly unlikely to have produced any result other than the one it did.