"The fanatical atheists are like slaves who are still feeling the weight of their chains which they have thrown off after hard struggle. They are creatures who--in their grudge against traditional religion as the 'opium of the masses'-- cannot hear the music of the spheres."
--Albert Einstein
In the mid 1980's there was a major court battle in Arkansas around the teaching of creationism. One of the great theological minds regarding the intersection of religion and science was Langdon Gilkey, professor at the University of Chicago. Because of his work, he was invited to testify during the legal proceedings.
Upon returning from testifying, Gilkey told a colleague that during his time in Arkansas, he realized that he had more in common with the scientists who were testifying who were open to mystery and wonder more than he was to the literalist Christians who were also testifying. Indeed, Gilkey noted, the scientists who were open to mystery had more in common with him than the scientists who were so dogmatic and sure of their understanding of the cosmos. In fact, the literalists in both camps--religious and scientific--probably had more in common with each other than either would ever want to admit.
It is hard not to reflect upon the relationship between religion and science, particularly in a world inundated by the scientific method and rationalism as well as a world that thirsts for meaning, wisdom, and deep truths. It is sort of like walking in the rain and getting wet. You can't help it!
What you can help is your posture toward and your engagement with religion, science, and the dialogue between the two. Rather than seeing these realities as polar opposites (e.g. one is irrational and the other rational, or one is spiritual and the other world-based, etc.), it seems the more interesting and productive work that is being done today is around how these two disciplines are a part of a larger whole of our human understanding. The degree to which the complement and critique each other is not something to be afraid of. Wrestling with the findings of religion and science, muddling through if you will, and refraining from grand statements of ultimate knowing are probably advisable in our day and age. Indeed, one could argue the survival of the species is dependent upon the deep, honest, critical, and respectful engagement between the two disciplines.
The most recent natural disaster--the earthquake in Christ Church, New Zealand--is yet another example of the desire, when faced with tragedy, to explain why this happened. Too often the "will of God" creeps into these discussions, and the comments are wholly unhelpful, often brutally painful, and about a subject that one cannot rule on with the limited knowledge we possess in this world. I very much appreciated the BBC interview with Peter Beck, the dean of the Anglican Cathedral in Christ Church. When asked about the damage to the building, he so quickly moved away from lamenting the property damage. Instead, he focused on the human suffering and noted something to the effect that buildings are buildings, they can be rebuilt. What is painful and urgent is the loss of human life and the suffering of people.
Perhaps it is out of these moments of suffering that we find the clarity of a Peter Beck. We hope that it does not take suffering to make us see what truly matters. It is not always easy to discern well, and we get caught up in the rush of life and lose our focus. Yet, this is why the ongoing and rich conversation between religion and science can keep us attentive to what matters. Indeed, the two disciplines are finally concerned about the ultimate things: who we are, why we are, what the world is, and how we relate to self, other, and the world. And remembering Einstein's quote brings up another that we do well to remember:
The situation may be expressed by an image: science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.
Blessings,
Mark
