Sunday, July 30, 2006

Science versus religion

First of all, I must say that the title of this post is at least slightly deceiving. It implies that science and religion are polar opposites, and must needs be at war with each other. That the opposite can and should be true is my real purpose in writing this. Perhaps I should begin by outlining a brief history of the interplay between these two that has, in part led us to this dichotomized mindset. (Note that I am by no means a historian, so I won't claim that all the details here are necessarily flawless, and being that brevity is here a concern, I beg the reader to exuse my profusion of sweeping generalizations.)

In medieval times, the church was, for the most part, the sole seat of learning in society, largely for the reason that the clergy were the only primary members of society who were given any significant education. The main focus of science was the metaphysical approach of the scholastics, who pursued knowledge within a religious context, largely according to the method set forth by Aristotle and other Greek thinkers. With the advent of the renaissance, this changed dramatically, in part due to Gutenberg printing press, which made books far more accessible to the common man. As learning become more secularist, thinkers such as Descartes held a strong interest in developing human knowledge apart from religion. Widespread learning gave birth to widespread questioning, and people developed an optimism that logical reasoning and empirical observations could provide an impeccable system of explanations for reality. This, of course, was the birth of the scientific method.

It was during this time that the dichotomy between science first really began to emerge. Part of the reason was the closed-minded dogmatism of the church, exemplified by their stauch refusal to admit a better-informed alternative to the Ptolemaic model of the cosmos. In a sense, the church sacrificed any legitimate value it had in the pursuit of truth essentially out of lust for power. This certainly would have been enough to embitter the honest learner against the institution of the church, and lead him into the newfound secular venues of knowledge.

However, the phenomenon of counter-reaction, which seems to be an almost universal pattern within human history, here became manifest in the attitude of the enlightenment period, in which secular learning to some extent came to be viewed as the only respectable source of knowledge. The dogmatism of the church was replaced with a new breed of intellectual exclusivity, in which strictly the empirical was recognized as epistemologically legitimate. Thus secular academia maintained a very deistic outlook by relegating anything spiritual to the realm of the church: such traditionalism clearly had no place in the actual workings of our world.

Meanwhile, the church, being thus alienated, was certainly not unwilling to return the gesture. In many cases, they were all to happy to proudly perch on their high horses, aloof to anything that science might have to say; such worldly endeavors were clearly beneath their lofty spirituality. Secularism made the intellect a god, and the Church made God the enemy of intellect.

Yet this deserves a qualification: the word intellect here came to mean more than human scientific observation and logical inferences. These are simply methods of study, but it was the object of study that emerged as the critical issue. In other words, the enlightenment extended their empirical method to the assumption that only empirically observable had any meaningful existence. Sadly, the church has often condemned both senses of the word, rather than critically evaluating whether indeed a naturalistic or deistic mindframe is indeed the inevitable conclusion of rationalism.

Indeed, it would appear as though the downfall of the enlightenment mentality was its almost emotional reaction against the church. It was not that the church really deserved any better; no, it was that the baby was thrown out with the bathwater, and anything associated with the church, including a theistic worldview, became blackmarked as irrational on account of its irresponsible and apostate stewards. This mentality, which is very much with us today, included the assumption that supernatural activity in the events our existence is an inherently irrational idea. In this way, religious perspectives are often seen as irrational and unscientific, even though this charge is based upon the philosophical (not scientific) presupposition that anything that does not fall within the grasp of our physical knowlege cannot exist.

Please don't think that I am criticizing the fact that some people have this philosophical presupposition. Indeed, Christians have there own presuppositions of what they consider to be possible, as does everyone. These presuppositions themselves must be the matter of debate, for it falls beyond science, which deals strictly with the impirical, to dicuss the feasibility of that which is not by its very nature within the ken of strict impiricism. Science can tell us things about the universe we live in, and in doing so, fail to uncover any objective evidence of a God. (For honesty's sake, I will reveal my opinion that this statement is only hypothetical, and that such evidence really does exist). However, this lack of evidence produces no rational argument against the existence of a God. A religious frame-of-refrence can tell us many things about God, but it's presuppositions cannot prove His existence or nature any more than science can prove the absence thereof. It turns out that such fundamental metaphysical issues such as God existence-and this just one example-must belong to the philosophical underpinnings which are the proper foundation for all such beliefs.

It is here that we find the interface between science and religion, and it turns out that in their respective essences, they are hardly natural enemies. Religion (by which I mean the appropriate personal response to ultimate reality in terms of beliefs, thoughts and actions, rather than societal institutions) should never be based apon propositions vulnarable to scientific disproof. This was the flaw of the medieval church, which elevated their ptolomic understanding of the world to a status of major theological significance. Surly Christianity contains some views of the orgins of the world that science questions, but the Christian belief system does not rise and fall apon these issues; the specifics that are debated here are ultimately beside the point, theologically speaking. And such issues as the incarnation and resurrection are beyond what science can prove or disprove because 1.) they are cleary one-time events of very special circumstances that are not expected to be repeatable, and 2.) science can only speak with authority on what happens within natural events, and cannot purport to dictate what a divine figure, if He exists, might do. (And agian, it is beyond the epistemological sphere of science to rule that such a being does not exist.) For just as religion per se should not encroach upon those issues of physical reality that are not its concern, so science should not encroach upon the philosophical basis of religion, which likewise is not its concern.

This, however, is not to say that religion and science should not interact. To say this would be a sad mistake that would undermine the tremendous pontential that exists for both to enrich the other. As I am fond of repeating, all truth is God's truth (speaking within my own worldview, of course) and because of this, I should welcome truths about the physical world as instrumental in understanding the nature and character of the God who made it, just as I should welcome spiritual truths revealed through God's word and personal experience.

What is interesting , however, is that this perspective seems to make most sense within the religious context that I have just described. If one does not hold God to be the creator of our world (in whatever means He created), then I don't see where science can have any legitamate description of His nature, because religion has been reduced to something so distant and abstract-(unless outright false) that it is purely metaphysical, and science cannot so much as touch it. In this way, a theological understanding of the world can greatly enrich science by giving it a whole new level of meaning, wherin the world is God's clockwork that is a profound reflection of who He is. This, of course enrichs both deeply. Science versus religion? I think not.

Ironically, this philosphy wherin the world is studied because it is God's good creation, and is in fact part of how we know the goodness of God, was the attitude that in part began man's scientific endevor. If this perspective could be reborn within the full practice of intellectual virtue and the scientific method, coupled with the phenomenal leaps and bounds of modern science and technology, I am convinced that it would be a wonderful blessing to human society.

2 comments:

Micah said...

I'm posting my reply to your last question under this post. I must say, questions like that make great thought food. Thanks!

If indeed science were to some how give conclusive proof that Christ had died, and therefore that the Biblical Christ was false, how would I respond? I'm not sure what I actually would do, but I would hope that I would adjust my beliefs accordingly. I believe what I do because I believe it is true. While being completely redundant, I think this also makes an important point: If my beliefs exist by virtue of their claim to truth, they must change if it becomes apparent that they are not true. In this situation, I would probably develop a set of beliefs that would maintain much of the same spiritual and moral elements of Christianity while bypassing their historical reality, because I feel that Christianity really does answer some important moral questions of humanity. But I agree, I don't think the situation will ever come up.

Micah said...

You bring up a good point here. The Christian belief system does consider man to be very special among other life forms. But he is considered special insofar has he has a capicity for self-conscious free will. If indeed there are other beings that share this characteristic, then man should not be considered central in God's created order. However, I think that it would be more correct to say that such beings would share our centrality equally. We do not have free will because we are important, are important because we have free will, and any other being who is in the same way free must be have equal importance. But how the discovery of such beings would affect the Chrisian community at large is certainly an interesting question; I expect that some would wish to denounce it, while others would welcome it. If well substantiated, I would be one of the later.