Secularism: Christianity’s New Best Friend?

So I’ve been gone for an astoundingly long time. My primary constraint is the fact that I have been busy doing a variety of non-cyberspace tasks, including working, getting myself educated and trying to be missional. But this week’s looking somewhat more free than previous ones, and so I’ll try to grace both of my viewers (if they haven’t died from old age since my last post) with my lowly thoughts on an issue rather dear to my heart, and especially my head: the relationship between secularism and Christianity.

First, however, a brief caveat is in order. Freethought is a movement which broadly speaking encompasses those who believe that their epistemology ought to place their beliefs under the purview of reason. Perhaps more simply put, we ought to believe rational things which are supported by evidence. Thus Freethinkers are not necessarily limited to the irreligious, agnostic and atheists, but can also encompass religious folk who base their beliefs in a rational evaluation of the facts. To draw upon a personal example, I view myself as Christian Freethinker. My beliefs are based upon a series of facts, primarily historical, which I have found validate many of the truth claims of Christianity.  These views have also been honed by continuous dialogue from people of many different beliefs and faiths, ranging anywhere from Islam to neo-pagan.  First and foremost, however, is secularism.

The secular, humanist, atheist, agnostic and sceptical community at my campus is known as the Freethinkers, an apt title which we proudly display on tables, stamps, forms, tattoos (okay, just kidding, no tattoos… yet). These people are simply put, wonderful to hang around with. They are both respectful and blasphemous, strongly voicing their opinions while joyfully engaging with those of others. The dialogue is open, refreshing, and dare I say more than a little anarchic. The sense of community is strong, and members chat for hours on end as colleagues, friends, even one might say an odd sort of family. You can say whatever you want, but be prepared for the inevitable “Well, why do you believe that?” And it is precisely this dedication to intellectual honesty which I find so continually endearing. Perhaps even more than endearing: necessary. Which brings me to my central point – secularism may be our (i.e. Christianity’s) new best friend.

Blasphemy! Perhaps not. I believe this club is very much needed, and not just on campus. Christianity, and more to the point, Christians, need them. We need their intellectual critiques, their less than subtle reminders as to our faults, and even at times their anger and outrage. To adopt a phrase from Chesterton, they put us in the hot water that will keep us clean. Here are the three most prominent ways in which I have seen them do so:

Intellectually
Many Christians are clever individuals with very well-reasoned explanations for their faith. Yet there are also countless swathes of intellectually lazy Christians. One need not go far to find those who cannot fathom the need for a rational foundation for their faith. For these believers, encounters with atheists and sceptics provide precisely such a demand. When faced with those who will gladly question every last one of your presuppositions, one suddenly requires a more responsible comprehension of Christianity. The alternative is merely to shut down intellectually, and we must not do so. Circular reasoning and mere emotive responses are insufficient. One can feel, but one must also think, and think clearly, honestly and intensely. If Christianity is true, then discover why. If not, then what are you bothering with it for?

 Accountability
This is a key area in which the secular movement provides a healthy counter to the crimes of any and all religions. All faiths, beliefs, ideologies and worldviews are subject to rigorous analysis and critiques. This is not blasphemy, but an excellent gift. Atheists have cried out for justice over religious persecutions, clerical abuses, monetary scams, faulty medicine, and many other issues. Though I would hesitate to advocate the outright abolition of religions, as some have, this trend towards the free critique of religious abuses is a much needed breath of fresh air. No injustice ought to be taboo, and the church ought to take its place alongside the disenfranchised and oppressed in their (non-violent) struggle for their section of the world to be set right. Thus not only does the secularist movement provide an excellent counterbalance to religious failures, it reminds us that we too ought to be striving for justice in the world around us. This is not to say that many Christians do not already do so – but could more really hurt?

Powerlessness
This is perhaps the single most problematic area for Christianity. Some may hearken back to the medieval period as a time of wondrous Christendom, but those with even a mild familiarity with these times will also recall the corruption, abuses, violence, and generally outlandish failures of Christianity to be a message of redemption to the world. Yet these feudal modes of thought have yet to be outgrown by many segments of the church. Instead, we have chosen to do what so many have done with power before – to keep it by any means necessary. Politically, financially, occasionally even violently. And in doing so we have lost our way. In our quest for survival, we have forgotten the ultimate expression of powerlessness: what most Christians believe to have been the redemptive sacrifice of Jesus of Nazareth. At the core of Christianity’s message is a narrative of a king who becomes a servant, the most powerful humiliated, the kingdom reversal at its apex. A man with the power to return from the dead was weak enough to be killed in a most gruesome manner. He did not overthrow the Romans, nor did he disperse the Sanhedrin, or found his own church. Yet Jesus somehow presented such a challenge to the power structures of his time that they saw it as necessary to have him executed. It is this which Christianity must mimic and live out: the weak who speak with authority not born of power but of righteousness. Those who will challenge and undermine the powers of the day, those who will comfort the afflicted, those who will neither strike their foe nor run in fear. Yet a simple barrier remains – we have grown to love our power. Not all, but some. They wish to gain safety in laws, elections, financial leverage, all the while forgetting that safety has nothing to do with the example they claim to follow. One can hardly carry a cross to a parliament or congress. And secularism, by driving the church from its power bases and denying it the capacity to oppress others can place it in its rightful place: weakness and servitude. Rather than having hollow words backed with power, we could have authority from truth. Once again, we can be held accountable by secularism. By driving us from power, they will leave us with the option we ought to have followed all along.

So there are my reflections, however concise, on the tremendous boon secularism presents for Christianity. Despite my historical training, I will refrain from summing up my rather straightforward observations. Instead, I will merely add the following: even if you disagree with everything I have just said, Christianity is an inherently evangelical religion. By this I do not mean that Christians should hand out tracts (hint: they don’t work that well…) or attempt to “convert” anyone. People cannot be forced to convert. Conversion is an intrinsically free and personal choice. Christians ought to not attempt to force others into their perspectives, but instead to engage with others in open and honest dialogue. Still, one can hardly expect someone following Jesus to never speak of him, nor to discuss what they have found on their spiritual journey with others. Quite frankly, Jesus is simply too fascinating a topic to avoid. It is this firm desire to share what we have found which I understand to be evangelism. Now this may  yield a change of belief on the part of the other person. But it may not. Regardless, I have found that such conversations, alongside the myriad of other topics friends constantly discover, are both informative and helpful in deepening the understanding of all those involved.  So keep talking. It’s the only way for everyone to grow.

I’m a historian dammit…

It just occurred to me. I’m a historian. And a Christian. And an apologist. With a blog. So, in my many musing, what has been the one subject I have so woefully neglected? History! (Also art, but let’s not get ludicrous here people. Even I have standards.) This is rather absurd, considering the vast amount of time I spend pondering, reading and writing about history. Furthermore, I invariably depend heavily upon the historical argument in my defence of Christianity. The following is a summary of why I do so.

The first reason is clearly that which I outlined above. I am a historian by trade, and am naturally fascinated by all things historical. In addition, I am fascinated by Jesus. Ergo it comes to no surprise that I am fascinated by the historical Jesus. You should be too, regardless of your profession. Historical Jesus rocks. (Way more than silly, holding-a-lamb, white Caucasian Jesus you see in the Sunday school pictures.)

Also, I firmly believe that Christian faith rests upon the historical nature of Jesus. Without the historical fact of the resurrection, we might as well go off and worship the flying spaghetti monster. It’d be about as effective. Don’t believe me? Paul says so too. Basically, if the person of Jesus did not walk the earth, did not make messianic claims, and did not die only to rise again, then we are the stupidest suckers alive. Heck, if any of those three things are fabrications we’re utter fools. Good thing our historical evidence indicates that he did all those things. So that is a crucial factor in my focus upon the historicity (i.e. did this really happen?) of the Christian claims. This entire faith in Jesus Christ as Lord is based upon the historical claims of the early church, found in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, as well as certain comments in the epistles. No way around it.

Finally, I would like to point out the enormous apologetical potential of the historical argument. At some point you must arrive at this argument. This is nigh inevitable. Consider the following path: you successfully defend our faith with the cosmological, teleological, and moral arguments. Like the wise Christian you are, you throw the ontological argument in the trash, where it belongs. But really, what have you proven? Lets allow for the fact that you may have potentially demonstrated that the deity in question is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent. All fine and good, but really have you demonstrated the veracity of Christianity? No. Because Christianity relies exclusively and entirely upon the person of Jesus of Nazareth for its claims to truth. So at this point you are forced to use history to defend the claims made about him. This will happen eventually. Even if you effectively disprove every other religion systematically (a tedious and rather futile process) yet ignore Jesus you will have simply created a deist.

So in my view (and hopefully now in yours – if not, let me know) the historical argument is of immense importance to Christians everywhere. That being said, I cannot treat this argument comprehensively. It would be like attempting to conquer the United States with a French infantry squad. Armed with rusty spoons. Did I mention they’re understrength? Anyway, digression aside, I shall henceforth put up a series of posts which shall deal with a variety of topics related to the historical argument, yet if you truly want a solid coverage of this field then read the key scholars: N.T. Wright, Bruce Metzger, Craig Evans, Craig Blomberg, and Gary Habermas, to name the heavy weights. You can also check out my fellow historian’s blog. These are all excellent starting places, and all the scholars mentioned above have a wide range of books, ranging from the very basic to the “why is my head hurting” variety. This stuff matters and it’s true. Very much like Jesus in that respect.

Genesis Revisited

No, Phil Collins has not returned with more amusing music. My previous post upon Genesis 1 has raised an interesting question. I shall attempt to answer it to the best of my capabilities in the following post. Here was Nick’s comment:

Not that I disagree with your conclusions, but I’m not sure that everyone who views Genesis 1 as historical has de facto checked their brain at the door. I’d be interested in seeing your reasons for your conclusion. The second temple reading is helpful in figuring out how Jesus’ contemporaries would have read the text, but it doesn’t serve as evidence for the genre of a much older text. How is it that you know with certainty that the opening chapters are not history? If they’re not, then what genre are they?

My silence in regards to the Israelite period seems to be an appropriate place to begin. The reason for my lack of reference to pre-captivity interpretations is simply that we lack any evidence. Our external documents are limited to certain Neo-Assyrian stelai inscriptions and Babylonian Chronicles. It ought to be noted that such external sources are of limited value because they very infrequently reference Israel (considering the fact that it was a minor Mesopotamian power this is hardly surprising) and when they do we gain little other than the capacity to compare and contrast the Israelite view of certain historical events with those of the Assyrians and Babylonians. An example of such comparisons can be found in The Ancient Near East c. 3000-300 BC vol II. by Amélie Kuhrt (pp 464-472; 477-478). Non-biblical Israelite sources are equally sparse. The Tell Arad ostraca, though an interesting find, are limited by the fact that only nine can be read with any confidence. Furthermore, these appear to be official letters dating from the closing years of Judah’s monarchy, making them interesting insofar as they collaborate evidence of a vibrant pre-captivity monarchical Israel, yet useless for the purposes of understanding the Biblical context of the Pentateuch. The Tell Harîri texts are only indirectly relevant to the study of Israel in general. As for archaeology, to be frank, it’s a highly disputed nightmare. The Altist and Albrightist dispute of the early 20^th century hasn’t ever been effectively resolved, and though archaeology has made many advances since that period, modern scholars are still inconclusive upon their findings. For instance, one scholar will claim to have found Solomon’s stables from one of his building projects, and another will dispute the claim that these are stables at all! (see J.M. Miller’s “Israelite History” in The Hebrew Bible and its Modern Interpreters for a decent summary of our Israelite documents).

It ought to be noted, however, that this silence is not atypical for the period in question.  The Assyrian texts, for instance, are less than revealing at points (historians are still ignorant of the exact manner of Neo-Assyria’s final fall). Even those well attested periods are frequently recorded by the Assyrian kings for the purposes of what would be termed propaganda by our modern world. Study of these Assyrian texts has demonstrated that they are subject to revision over time as new events unfold (once again, see Kuhrt’s rather informative chapter on Neo-Assyria). Though this does not make Assyrian history an impossible field, it does place limits on our ability to critically analyze the source material available. Hence, in comparison to contemporary sources the Hebrew Tanak is actually a rather informative text for its period. Not only do we possess an extensive text, but this text was also compiled and edited by a variety of people over time. Yet this overall silence in non-Biblical sources means that it is practically impossible to postulate a comprehensive notion of how the ancient Israelites viewed Genesis. That is why I did not attempt to do so.

If other Israelite sources are of limited use, then what else might we use? External comparisons to other Near Eastern creation myths (myth as in mythos, a story with powerful cultural implications—an epistemologically neutral term, unlike the popular modern usage) can be of some use. It is of some interest that the Jewish creation story diverges significantly from its Near Eastern counterparts. However certain parallels can be drawn. For instance the 7 day cycle signifying completion, which I referenced in the previous post upon this topic, is a clear Near Eastern theme which we see across a variety of Mesopotamian cultures.  The same can be said of the concept of a decline in human civilization leading to a decline in the years of each generation. (Of course, the Jewish tradition had nothing upon that of the Babylonians: their ten pre-flood kings had extensive reigns, ranging from 18,600 years to a grandiose 43,200 year reign.) By examining information available on surrounding cultures we can begin to understand certain parts of the symbolic narrative that exists in Genesis. I made use of this in my previous post. Yet even this form of analysis is of limited use, as clearly the ancient Israelites diverged from surrounding cultures in a variety of manners. For instance, though parallels exist within the Genesis story (I have outlined two above, as well as a third below), the overall flow of the narrative remains original within its Mesopotamian context.

One fairly significant exception: Noah’s Ark. This story has unusually similar occurrences in Mesopotamia, and even possesses parallels with stories from across the globe. Yet modern research into the matter has yielded no evidence beyond that of limited flooding in the Mesopotamian area (see Georges Roux’s Ancient Iraq pp 109-114—soil samples do not demonstrate anything beyond limited regional flooding).  The mythological trend is fascinating, yet seemingly inexplicable. Perhaps the most compelling hypothesis yet to be offered is that flooding in coastal areas that followed the melting of the glaciers in very early human history has been immortalized in these tales. This hypothesis seems plausible, yet remains highly speculative. I have absolutely no idea how this parallel occurred. I mention it only as a topic of interest.

So we can gain information from the surrounding cultures. There is also internal evidence as well. Certain minimal information can be garnered from the Biblical text in and of itself. Terence Fretheim assessed Genesis as “an exercise in self-understanding”. He asserts, and I believe this conclusion is correct, that Genesis formed an important part of how ancient Israelites learned their identity with each new generation. Certain theorists postulate that the genealogies which Genesis is formed around functioned as ‘historical anchors’ for the text’s readers. It is an interesting, though somewhat speculative, theory.

An interesting trend is that of referencing Genesis. Though occasionally referenced in the Hebrew Tanak (more popularly known as the Old Testament), these references are fairly sparse. The story of Moses and the Exodus is much more prominent in Israelite thought. Yet, as we enter the era of Second Temple Judaism, this trend changes. The inter-testamental period (from the 5^th century BC to the 1^st century AD, approximately) is replete with various references to Genesis stories. Enoch, a book formed entirely from a brief character in Genesis 5:21-24, may be the epitome of this trend. This tendency is continued in the New Testament writings, particularly the epistles (Romans being a prime example of this). The reasons for this tendency remain unclear, yet still the fact remains that we know a great deal in regards to how the second temple Jews viewed Genesis, as opposed to the practically non-existent information available in regards to the Israelite period of Jewish history.

Having gone over the various materials available for understanding Genesis’ context, I shall now elaborate on a point that I believe may have remained unclear. My point in the previous post was not to say that Genesis was never intended to be read historically. Nor did I wish to attempt to blindly categorize it in some arbitrary modern literary category. As mentioned above, we A) lack the requisite source material to understand where the original authors and editors of this text (scholarship has long rejected the concept of Moses’ authorship of the Pentateuch—it was clearly subject to multiple authors and/or heavy editing, most likely both), and B) we must understand that our modern literary genres are a cultural construct. We cannot assume that a text from antiquity was ever written with our modern presuppositions in mind. Obviously they were not. Instead I wished to demonstrate that, even in second temple Judaism, Genesis was not read as a simple history.  I was not trying to completely dismiss the historical aspect of the text, rather I would like to allow for somewhat more rigorous interpretations.

As I mentioned above, we can garner from external cultures that there are clear elements of the Genesis text which utilize symbolic devices to convey added meaning to the intended audience. In my previous post I also outlined a Second Temple reading of Genesis 1 which dealt with Temple symbolism and how it related to God’s purpose for Creation. Clearly simple literal history was not the only intent of the text, and I maintain my position that to read it as such is foolish. However, I shall attempt to further elaborate the understanding of history in antiquity, and particularly in Second Temple Judaism (where we have extra-biblical sources that can allow us to understand their views).

Was Genesis ever intended as history? Quite likely, but not history as we understand it today. Unbiased history did not exist in antiquity. It still does not exist today. History is always written with a motive in mind, and we are better off when we are aware of this, because only then can we properly take the author’s biases and agenda(s) into account. The main difference today is that scholarship gives historians different agendas. Tenure and scholarly critique were not concerns of the ancient world. They unabashedly wrote with a particular audience in mind, and usually tailored their message to those readers. This can be seen in the works of Plutarch, Caesar, Cicero, Livy, and so forth. It is not unusual, and does not make these texts unreliable. In fact understanding the authors intent allows us to better analyze their work.

Flavius Josephus wrote in the first century AD that “Of these, five are the books of Moses [Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy], comprising the laws and the traditional history from the birth of man down to the death of the lawgiver.” Clearly second temple Jews continued to see the Pentateuch as a combination of history and law. Scholars, as early as Keil and Delitzsch, knew years ago that Genesis “bears the form of an intended historical document.” (It ought to be noted that Keil and Delitzsch have an obvious apologetical bias to their work.) I will not dispute that the Jewish people saw Genesis as the formative origins of their culture. However, as we saw before, we need to take into account both the fact that this story contains other literary elements as well as the fact that this history was written as a means of cultural self-understanding. Hence, the history is less about fact by fact accounts of, say, the lives of the patriarchs, but instead it was intended to convey meaning to the Jewish people about the interaction of the living God with his covenant people. When analyzing the “history” of Genesis, we must take into account the fact that Genesis is symbolic, mythological (i.e. culturally formative), and historical all at once. There are no doubt other factors in play as well. As such, to read the text without a certain degree of context and without understanding that this was not a written to a modern audience with the intention of communicating literal history does involve a certain degree of ignorance, whether willful or not. Is this “checking one’s brain at the door”? Perhaps not. However, such an approach hardly puts the mind to task, and will no doubt lead to shallow and rather detrimental readings of the text.

One final point. If you read anything in this long meander down the rabbit hole I have taken you upon, read this: We need to understand that our insistence upon scientific verisimilitude in texts is a foolish modern bias. Once we understand that Genesis was a historical text written by humans for humans (a really long time ago, I might add), then it becomes less of an issue that science diverges from the introductory chapters of the text. Allow me to explain. We should not think it absurd or primitive that the Ancient Israelites did not understand the formation of the universe in scientific terms. How could they? The point of Genesis is not to provide a scientific explanation of the origins of the universe, but to clarify that God played a key role in the formation of all Creation, and what that fact means for his people. This is not new news to Christian scholarship. Fretheim speaks of how Genesis “betrays a less than perfect symmetry” in the New Interpreters Bible. In fact he insists that the language in Genesis 1 is “pre-science”. What he means by this is that the Israelites were taking what they knew of God, and attempting to place that within a quasi-scientific explanation of the universe’s origins. So in sum: the fact that the Ancient Israelites were not entirely clear upon how God created the universe does not mean that they were not convinced of his existence. Furthermore, this hardly disproves their belief in a Creator God. The ignorance of a believer does not necessarily allow one to dismiss what they believe. I might add that we moderns are still not fully enlightened as to how this occurred. It seems rather presumptuous to judge the peoples of antiquity for not being more informed than us in this regard.

So would the Ancient Israelites have been distressed to discover that the actual manner of the universe’s origins diverges from their culturally formative mythos? I cannot tell you that. No one can. However, I can tell you that a scientific lecture in a university setting was not the purpose of this text. Treating it as such is erroneous.

So ends this addition to my previous post. I may not have clarified anything. In fact everything may now be more complex. Good. Understanding the context of a biblical text only increases the amount one appreciates it. Besides, we could all stand to think some more, myself included.

Gnu stuff

Hey look, a gnu:

So here’s an interesting animal for you.  Gnu is another name for the wildebeest native to the African continent. The term wildebeest is a Dutch word which comes from the Africaan settlers . It means “wild beast”, a rather obvious factoid which ought to tell you something about the nature of this particular animal. They can potentially grow up to 4ft 10in tall and weigh nearly 270 kgs. They have a variety of predators, including lions, cheetahs and crocodiles. But here’s the impressive part: wildebeests are very strong and resilient, and have shown themselves to be capable of inflicting serious injuries upon even lions. Tough suckers who keep themselves safe by forming herds with their fellow gnus.

So what’s with all this discussion of the gnu? Have I gone completely out to lunch? Has my mind decided to take a hike? Perhaps I’ve even become, *gasp*, a scientist. No, not even the election of a new Science rep can get me to do that. Here’s why the Gnu is an object of contemplation for me: it’s a symbol of New Atheism. Or to be more precise: Gnu Atheism. Yup. That’s punny for you.

Here’s the new (or should I say gnu?) symbol for the New Atheist camp:

This symbol was first invented by Aratina Cage on her blog, and was quickly taken up by the avid and prolific New Atheist bloggers Jerry Coyne, Ophelia Benson and P.Z. Myers. It has now begun to spread amongst the atheist community through the meandering paths of the internet. Now they have even begun to refer to themselves as “Gnu Atheists”. For the sake of consistency, I shall do likewise below. Yet the gnu wasn’t simply chosen because it was punny. There are three rather poignant things to draw from this particular symbol:

First, this symbol was devised by Gnu Atheists to communicate a simple point: they are not “new”. This has been an objection that has simmered for quite some time. It is a natural and predictable human tendency throughout history to wish to turn to the past in order to reaffirm one’s beliefs. This is equally true of Gnu Atheism, causing Hitchens to publish this particular book. In fact, even at the ground level, Gnu Atheists proudly claim a heritage which they view as truly kicking off with the Enlightenment, and reaching a turning point in the person of Charles Darwin. Yet they are not simply the products of a scant few centuries. They are much, much more. Gnu Atheists see themselves as the current climax of the system of gradual progression from superstition to true empirical knowledge, a system that has characterized all of human history. Leaving the historical issues generated by this claim for the moment, we will simply let this be as it is. They view themselves as what history has been heading towards all along. Not gnu, not gnu at all.

Second of all, a quick glance at their caricature of the gnu in their symbol should tell you ample about the comparison they are aiming at in a Western culture immersed with left-over fragments of medieval Christianity. The reference to Satan is obvious, and the message they intend to communicate is equally clear. They are the ungodly, the perverse, the rebels, those who dare to become the opposite of what is expected. Or, to be more accurate, this is how they prefer to view themselves. They form a degree of their identity in opposition to the (superficially) clear “other” which religion presents. Self-made opponents of religion, like the mythical demons of old, yet very much human. This is another important element in Gnu Atheism’s cosmology.

Third, we ought to consider the animal they chose to make their own. As mentioned above, the gnu is both tenacious and potent. It is capable of causing severe harm to seemingly advantaged predators. To Gnu Atheist, the symbolism holds important meaning. They are here to stay, and have no intention of being put aside, nor being done away with. Many see themselves as fighters, though there has recently been heated discussion of the nature which Gnu Atheist resistance ought to take (accomadationists and confrontationists are going at it both internationally and at my particular university campus). Still, the point remains. They see themselves as persistent. After all, as was discussed above, history has (apparently) been leading up to this.

My point in all this is not to mock or demean the Gnu Atheist establishment. I have a great deal of respect for many of these people. Instead, I have hopefully demonstrated the importance of a seemingly innocuous symbol, as well as how necessary it is to understand those who have variant views from your own. How else can you care about them and be amongst them the way Jesus was?

PS: I used the word “gnu” 21 times in this post. That’s almost as high as the number of times per paragraph Luke’s blog mentions Byzantium.

Science and Religion at Ten Paces

I would like to begin by stating that the study of old scientific discoveries is the role of the historian, and the interpretation of the moral and metaphysical implications of accepted scientific facts and theories is that of the philosopher. Neither are in the purview of the scientist. Yet I am neither a historian of science, nor a philosopher, and certainly not a scientist. Ergo I am neither competent to study the development of science, ponder what it means for humanity at large, nor actually preform the noble task itself. Yet in my last few posts I have endeavored to cite those who do have expertise in such things.

Hence, as a responsible and conscientious (not to mention stubborn and highly irritating) proponent  of truth, I ought to bring the following matter to your attention. I have discovered a pair of posts dealing with the history of the conflict of religion vs science. Though I lack any scientific training beyond that which a high school diploma provides, I admit that I found these posts intriguing. So, for your viewing pleasure: Post I and Post II.

Ipsa scientia potestas est

In my continuing effort to cite people far more competent than myself in the various scientific fields, I offer the following addition to my post on Einstein as well as its ad hoc sequel. In this post we shall consider that segment of the sciences which is composed of those figures that are not referred to as “Albert Einstein”. I have been informed that they are legion, and as such I have endeavored to select some of the more prominent figures in modern science. Fools and historians need not apply.

“The scientific picture of the world around me is very deficient. It gives me a lot of factual information, puts all our experience in a magnificently consistent order, but is ghastly silent about all that is really near to our heart, that really matters to us. It cannot tell a word about the sensation of red and blue, bitter and sweet, feelings of delight and sorrow. It knows nothing of beauty and ugly, good or bad, God or eternity. Science sometimes pretends to answer questions in these domains, but the answers are very often so very silly that we are not inclined to take them seriously.

Science is reticent too when it is a question of the great Unity of which we somehow form a part, to which we belong. The most popular name for it in our time is God, with a capital ‘G’. Science is, very usually, branded as being atheistic. After what we have said this is not astonishing. If its world picture does not even contain beauty, delight, sorrow, if personality is cut out of it by agreement, how should it contain the most sublime idea that presents itself to the human mind.”
-Erwin Schrödinger, the developer of wave mechanics

“There can never be any real opposition between science and religion; for the one is the complement of the other… The natural scientist recognizes as immediately given nothing but the content of his sense experiences and of the measurements based on them. He starts out from this point, on a road of inductive research, to approach as best as he can the supreme and eternally unattainable goal of his quest – God and His world order. Therefore, while both religion and natural science require a belief in God for their activities, to the former He is the starting point, to the latter the goal of every thought process. To the former He is the foundation, to the latter the crown of the edifice of every generalized world view… Religion and natural science to not exclude each other, as many contemporaries of ours would believe or fear; they mutually supplement and condition each other… Religion and natural science are fighting a joint battle in an incessant, never relaxing crusade against skepticism and against dogmatism, against unbelief and superstition.”
-Max Planck, pioneer of the quantum hypothesis

“God is a mathematician of a very high order and He used advanced mathmatics in constructing the universe.”
-Paul A.M. Dirac, creator of the third formulation of quantum theory

“It was from the intellectual ferment brought about by the merging of Greek philosophy and Judaeo-Islamic-Christian thought, that modern science emerged, with its unidirectional linear time, its insistence on nature’s rationality, and its emphasis on mathematical principles. All the early scientists such as Newton were religious in one way or another. They saw their science as a means of uncovering traces of God’s handiwork in the universe. What we now call the laws of physics they regarded as God’s abstract creation: thoughts, so to speak, in the mind of God. So in doing science, they supposed, one might be able to glimpse the mind of God. What an exhilarating and audacious claim!

In the ensuing three hundred years, the theological dimension of science has faded. People take it for granted that the physical world is both ordered and intelligible. The underlying order in nature – the laws of physics – are simply accepted as given, as brute facts. Nobody asks where they come from; at least they don’t in polite company. However, even the most atheistic scientist accepts as an act of faith the existence of a lawlike order in nature that is at least in part comprehensible to us. So science can proceed only if the scientist adopts an essentially theological world view…

Now you may think I have written God entirely out of the picture. Who needs a God when the laws of physics can do such a splendid job? But we are bound to return to that burning question: Where do the laws of physics come from? And why those laws rather than some other set? Most especially: Why a set of laws that drives the searing, featureless gases coughed out of the big bang, towards life and consciousness and intelligence and cultural activities such as religion, art, mathematics and science?

If there is a meaning or purpose to existence, as I believe there is, we are wrong to dwell too much on the originating event. The big bang is sometimes referred to as “the creation”, but in truth nature has never ceased to be creative. This ongoing creativity, which manifests itself in the spontaneous emergence of novelty and complexity, and organization of physical systems, is permitted through, or guided by, the underlying mathematical laws that scientists are so busy discovering…

So where is God in this story? Not especially in the big bang that starts the universe off, nor meddling fitfully in the physical processes that generate life and consciousness. I would rather that nature can take care of itself. The idea of a God who is just another force or agency at work in nature, moving atoms here and there in competition with physical forces, is profoundly uninspiring. To me, the true miracle of nature is to be found in the ingenious and unswerving lawfulness of the cosmos, a lawfulness that permits complex order to emerge from chaos, life to emerge from inanimate matter, and consciousness to emerge from life, without the need for the occasional supernatural prod; a lawfulness that produces beings who not only ask great questions of existence, but who, through science and other methods of enquiry, are even beginning to find answers.”
-Paul Davies, modern theoretical physicist

And now for a final surprise appearance:

“[Reason tells me of the] extreme difficulty or rather impossibility of conceiving this immense and wonderful universe, including man with his capability of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the result of blind chance or necessity. When thus reflecting I feel compelled to look to a First Cause having an intelligent mind in some degree analogous to that of man; and I deserve to be called a theist.”
-Charles Darwin, creator of Darwinism

So there you have it. People cleverer than I, providing you with insights that I was, until recently, not aware of. Specialists are handy folks to have around. Suffice to say, the science vs religion myth, ironically promoted by both fundamentalists and New Atheists alike, appears to be unfounded in the minds of many prominent scientists. Alas, they rarely make the news. Oh well, hopefully both of my readers will find this post informative.

I found more!

So I have discovered even more Einstein quotes since my last post. As my attempt is to convey an accurate and holistic portrait of the facts, I feel obliged to make the following additions to my previous collection of sayings:

“I have never found a better expression than ‘religion’ for this trust in the rational nature of reality and of its peculiar accessibility to the human mind. Where this trust is lacking science degenerates into an uninspired procedure. Let the devil care if the priests make capital out of this. There’s no remedy for that.”

“Whoever has undergone the intense experience of successful advances in this domain [of science] is moved by the profound reverence for the rationality made manifest in existence. By way of the understanding he achieves a far reaching emancipation from the shackles of personal hopes and desires, and thereby attains that humble attitude of mind toward the grandeur of reason, incarnate in existence, and which, in its profoundest depths, is inaccessible to man. This attitude, however, appears to me to be religious in the highest sense of the word. And so it seems to me that science not only purifies the religious imulse of the dross of its anthropomorphism but also contibutes to a religious spiritualisation of our understanding of life.”

“Certain it is that a conviction, akin to religious feeling, of the rationality of intelligibility of the world lies behind all scientific work of a higher order… This firm belief, a belief bound up with deep feeling, in a superior mind that reveals itself in the world of experience, represents my best conception of God.”

“Every one who is seriously engaged in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that the laws of nature manifest the existence of a spirit vastly superior to that of men, and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble.”

“My religiosity consists of a humble admiration of the infinitely superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight detailes we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble minds. That deeply emotional conviction of the presence of a superior reasoning power, which is revealed in the incomprehensible universe, forms my idea of God.”

“”The cosmic religious experience is the strongest and noblest driving force behind scientific research. No one who does not appreciate the terrific exertions and above all, the devotion without which pioneer creations in scientific thought cannot come into being, can judge the strength of the feeling out of which alone such work, turned away as it is from immediate practical life, can grow. What a deep faith in the rationality of the world and its structure and what a longing to understand even the smallest glimpses of the reason revealed in the world there must have been in Kepler and Newton.”

“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”

“God does not play dice with the universe.”

“When the solution is simple, God is answering.”

Certainly an interesting fellow. Make of that what you will. To clarify a small point, Einstein was a theist, but not religious. He was ethnically Jewish, but was by no means a practicing Jew. However, he clearly had a concept of a divine mind which revealed itself through its rational influence in the cosmos. As promised, we shall move on to other minds (which still exceed my own) in the following post.