Religion and the Sciences of Origins

Historical and Contemporary Discussions

Kelly James Clark

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781137414816
• Topic: Théologie et religion
• Subtopic: Histoire des religions

This concise introduction to science and religion focuses on Christianity and modern Western science (the epicenter of issues in science and religion in the West) with a concluding chapter on Muslim and Jewish Science and Religion. This book also invites the reader into the relevant literature with ample quotations from original texts.

C H A P T E R 1

---

Science and/or Religion

THE PRIMEVAL ATOM

Consider two diametrically opposed creation stories, the first from ancient China and the second from twentieth-century Belgium:

Long, long ago, when heaven and earth were still one, the entire universe was contained in an egg-shaped cloud. All the matter of the universe swirled chaotically in that egg. Deep within the swirling matter was Pan Gu, a huge giant who grew in the chaos. For 18,000 years he developed and slept in the egg. Finally one day he awoke and stretched, and the egg broke to release the matter of the universe. The lighter purer elements drifted upwards to make the sky and heavens, and the heavier impure elements settled downwards to make the earth. (Hamilton, 1988: 21)

The radius of space began at zero; the first stages of the expansion consisted of a rapid expansion determined by the mass of the initial atom, almost equal to the present mass of the universe. The expansion took place in three phases: a first period of rapid expansion in which the atom-universe was broken into atomic stars, a period of slowing-down, followed by a third period of accelerated expansion. It is doubtless in this third period that we find ourselves today, and the acceleration of space which followed the period of slow expansion could well be responsible for the separation of stars into extra-galactic nebulae. (Lemaître, 1931: 422)

In these two quotations, we have stumbled onto a collision between religious and scientific accounts of the origin of the universe. While few contemporary Chinese and even fewer non-Chinese lend credence to the Pan Gu story, religious creation stories have nonetheless been enthusiastically embraced around the world and throughout history. Australia’s aborigines believed that Baiame, the Maker of Many Things, brought up water, plants, animals, and even humans from underground to inhabit a previously barren, lifeless plain; the sun, moon, and stars came into existence when Emu and Eagle ancestors threw each other’s eggs into the sky, and they burst into flames where they are continually fueled by Baiame (Parker, 1905). Mayans believed that Tepeu and Gugumatz thought mountains, trees, the sky, and animals into existence (Sproul, 1979: 285). Scandinavian tradition holds that Odin, the All-Father and most powerful of the gods, made the earth from the flesh of the brutal frost giant Ymir, while the rivers and seas flowed from Ymir’s blood (Sturluson, 1987). The Egyptian god, Khepri, spat out the gods She and Tefnut from his stomach and then united himself with them; when Khepri was united with She and Tefnut, he wept for joy, and from those tears humans arose (Sproul, 1979: 99). Perhaps the most influential, based on the number of people who believe it, is the creation story in Genesis: God speaks the world into existence out of nothing. God speaks and it is done (Genesis 1).

The account of “the creation” offered by Lemaître, a twentieth-century physicist, never mentions God. His account appeals only to an initial state (where time = zero), expansion, mass, and the tiniest of particles (such as protons, neutrons, and electrons). It assumes laws of physics, such as gravity and quantum forces. Imagine, according to Dr Lemaître, a universe contained within the casing of an exploding, cosmic firework, with its embers (galaxies) bursting forth in brilliant splendor. His view, which would be called “the Big Bang theory,” requires only material particles and natural forces. Lemaître was the first physicist to demonstrate that all of the matter of the universe was, at the beginning, contained within an initial point, which he called “the Primeval Atom.” Imagine, again with Lemaître, all of the matter of the universe squished uncomfortably together into a tiny point—smaller than the period at the end of this sentence. All of those tiny particles, like Aladdin crammed into his tiny lamp, were itching to get out. Lemaître called this point, likely without reference to the Chinese creation story, “the Cosmic Egg exploding at the moment of the creation.” The Egg, which he also called “the Primeval Atom,” was the birthplace of everything (Lemaître, 1950). When the Egg erupted, the particles of the universe rapidly expelled, but then, over billions of years, came together to form stars, planets, and galaxies. Like many scientists endeavoring into a new scientific field that yet lacks adequate language and concepts, Lemaître used metaphors. But his intent was to offer a completely scientific, completely natural, completely physical description of the beginning of the universe. Lemaître learned of the observational confirmation of his theory shortly before his death in 1966.

Prior to Lemaître, most scientists believed that the universe was infinite and eternal with matter relatively evenly distributed throughout, with the same unchanging shape and form forever. Lemaître argued that the universe was finite and temporal yet rapidly expanding and that, by mathematically tracing the expansion backwards, one could discover the very beginnings of the universe. The Big Bang occurred on “a day without yesterday,” as he elegantly stated it.

On the one hand, we’ve got Pan Gu’s Cosmic Egg and gods thinking or speaking things into existence and human beings created from divine tears while, on the other hand, we have science. Put this way, it is hard not to cast one’s lot with science.

Religion and science are at war, no mere rumors here, and religion is losing all of the key battles. Or so it is claimed.

THE LIMITLESS POWER OF SCIENCE

Peter Atkins, professor of chemistry at Oxford University, assumes science and religion are in a conflict in which God has been decisively defeated. In so doing, he ironically treats science as a religion substitute. In his 1995 essay, “The Limitless Power of Science,” Atkins assesses the status of religion in an age of test tubes and telescopes: “Science and religion cannot be reconciled, and humanity should begin to appreciate the power of [science] and to beat off all attempts at compromise. Religion has failed, and its failures should be exposed. Science, with its currently successful pursuit of universal competence . . . should be acknowledged the king” (1995: 132).

Any attempt to reconcile science and religion is, according to Atkins, “muddle-headed sentiment and intellectually dishonest emotion.” Surprisingly, Atkins describes science in religious, even godlike, terms. Science is “limitless” (the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end), and science “liberates” (the Truth shall make you free). Science will “blow back the fog that shrouds the mind of those who have not yet seen” (the Light of the world). Finally, sounding like a medieval theologian’s omni-god (omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent), Atkins commends “the omnicompetence of science.” In a nutshell, says Atkins, “Science respects more deeply the potential of humanity than religion ever can.” Science is the new sacred. God is out, Science is in. After apologizing for his exuberance, Atkins declares that it is not possible to be intellectually honest and believe in gods; likewise, he claims that it is not possible to believe in gods and be a true scientist. Religious belief, he concludes, is “outmoded and ridiculous” (1996).

Are we forced then to choose between outmoded, ridiculous religion on the one hand and omnicompetent science on the other? Does, for example, Lemaître’s now widely accepted scientific theory stand in stark opposition to religion?

FATHER LEMAÎTRE

In 1927, Albert Einstein met Lemaître at a physics conference where the two discussed Lemaître’s theory of an expanding universe. Einstein expressed his disagreement rather sharply. He was dubious partly because Lemaître’s theory seemed too close to the Christian doctrine of creation. Lemaître, in addition to being a fine physicist, was also a Catholic priest. Since the opening sentence of the Bible suggests a beginning of the universe: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth,” Einstein suspected the priest of smuggling God into his equations. Concomitantly, Lemaître’s mentor, Sir Arthur Eddington, publicly declared Lemaître’s claims about a beginning of the world “repugnant” (perhaps for antireligious reasons) (Farrell, 2005: 107). Sir Fred Hoyle, an award-winning British astronomer and physicist, long rejected Lemaître’s Big Bang theory in part because it entailed a beginning to the universe (and if a beginning, then a creator). He disparaged belief in an exploding universe, declaring it, in a BBC interview in the 1950s, as unseemly and undignified “as a party girl jumping out of a cake.”

But in January 1933, Einstein, now a good friend of Lemaître, listened carefully at a seminar where Lemaître painstakingly presented the evidence for a beginning of the universe. At the conclusion, Einstein offered Lemaître a standing ovation, declaring, “This is the most beautiful and satisfactory explanation of creation to which I have ever listened” (Farrell, 2005: 115). Shortly thereafter, Einstein nominated Lemaître for the Franqui Prize, Belgium’s highest award for scientific accomplishment. Einstein came to regard his rejection of an expanding universe as one of the biggest blunders of his life. Eddington, one of the twentieth century’s greatest astrophysicists, would become Lemaître’s biggest fan, commending his theories to other prominent physicists. Hoyle’s later work on the generation of new elements through the evolution of stars (a central concept of the Big Bang theory) would move him from atheism to belief in a “supercalculating Intellect” (Hoyle, 1981).

Of course, Father Lemaître was keenly aware of the religious implications of his theory. In an unpublished paper written in 1922, five years before he published his first scientific paper on the theory, he claimed that that the universe had begun in light “as Genesis suggested it.”¹

SCIENCE AND/OR RELIGION

We started with primitive religious myths that were apparently refuted by science. But upon further inspection, some science, say the Big Bang, may confirm or coincide with religious myths. The relationship between science and religion may be more complicated than the claim to warfare makes readily apparent. While those like Atkins proclaim religion’s demise at the hands of science, religion is still alive and kicking. To paraphrase Mark Twain, reports of religion’s death have been greatly exaggerated. While science and religion may hit an occasional bump in the road, their differences may not be irreconcilable. The relationship between science and religion is, to be sure, complicated. And their courtship has been fraught with both peril and promise. But it is not all peril, as Atkins assumes.

Science and religion have mutually shaped our beliefs about the world. The way we dress and the food we eat, the methods by which we educate our children, and how we manage our health have all been influenced by both scientific discovery and religious commitment. Science may have proven that smoking is dangerous, but religions that prohibit smoking (such as Mormonism) are decidedly more effective in preventing smoking. Alcohol and drugs may likewise have negative health consequences, but Alcoholics Anonymous, with its reliance on a Higher Power, has proven to be one of the most successful cures for alcoholism and drug abuse. We have flown to the moon and split the atom; we can clone potatoes and, maybe one day, people. But we are soiling and maybe even destroying our planet at an astonishingly rapid rate with the very technology that has driven those remarkable discoveries. Science, of course, may save us from ecological disaster and mutually assured destruction. But it may not. Science is not (“omnicompetence” aside) our Lord and Savior. And religion is here to stay (for better and, admittedly, sometimes for worse).

Better, then, to understand both science and religion, and their fascinating relationship, than remain in ignorance.

The claim that theism and evolution are incompatible assumes that religion is a scientific hypothesis. Richard Dawkins writes: “A universe with a God would look quite different from a universe without one. A physics, a biology where there is a God is bound to look different. So the most basic claims of religion are scientific. Religion is a scientific theory.” Religion and science, then, compete on the same field. So Dawkins claims: “The existence of God is a scientific hypothesis like any other. . . . God’s existence or non-existence is a scientific fact about the universe, discoverable in principle if not in practice” (2006: 50). The great twentieth-century philosopher Willard Van Orman Quine concurs with Dawkins: “If I saw indirect explanatory benefit in positing sensibilia, possibilia, spirits, a Creator, I would joyfully accord them scientific status too, on a par with such avowedly scientific posits as quarks and black holes” (1995: 252). The God Hypothesis, Quine claims, is on a par with the periodic table of the elements, the kinetic theory of gases, Newton’s inverse law of gravitation, the germ-theory of diseases, and quarks and black holes. We can lay them all alongside reality to see which measures up.

Many of our primitive (and not so primitive) ancestors did suppose God to be a scientific explanation of this or that. If theism were a scientific hypothesis, it would stand or fall by how well it explains the relevant scientific data. Such primitive peoples, requiring an explanation for thunder, postulated Zeus or Hadad; Aeolus or Vayu were thought to control the winds, while Tialoc or Chiuta brought on the rain; those in need of a little love could call on Cupid. There was no end of alleged deities in charge of reproductive success: Famian, Ison, Njambi, Ruhanga, Unkulunkulu, and Xesiovo, to name just a few. Even Aristotle called upon the Unmoved Mover to do some heavy planetary lifting. With the development of meteorology, the reproductive sciences, the principle of inertia, and the law of gravity, these gods have fallen by the intellectual wayside.

If God’s existence is, as Dawkins claims, “unequivocally a scientific question,” one must tot up the evidence for and against, and see how God fares. If God fares badly as a scientific explanation, then belief in God is rationally undermined. With respect to explaining the origin of species, Dawkins plumps for gradual evolution over divine design. The evidence, he claims, is “terminally fatal to the God Hypothesis” (2006: 61).

Is theism, the so-called God Hypothesis, a scientific hypothesis? I will occasionally revert to the colloquial usage of “God” for ease of communication and to remind ourselves that, unlike most scientific theories, the God Hypothesis involves propositions about a person, and to acknowledge that many believers treat belief in God more like belief in a person than a theory.²

Theism, at least for many modern believers, is not a scientific hypothesis, one in competition with the sciences of origins.³ Many think that belief in God is more like belief in other minds (persons) than belief in a scientific theory such as the kinetic theory of gases or the structure of the atom. We don’t believe in other minds (persons) as an explanatory hypothesis or scientific theory. We simply find ourselves believing in other persons, a belief that is an immediate product of our cognitive equipment, not the conclusion of an inference. We don’t withhold belief in other persons until we observe a great deal of person-like behavior (thoughts, pains, feelings) and then, finally, affirm the belief as an induction from that set of data. Rather, we just believe in other persons. We can’t do otherwise.

If God is a person, theism is not a scientific theory awaiting proof from physics or biology. If God is a person, one might simply find oneself believing in God through, say, religious experience or the testimony of those one loves and respects.

Belief in God is not, on this view, a scientific theory held tentatively or not at all until the available evidence piles up to confirm God’s existence. Theism is not a scientific theory in competition with other scientific theories such as evolutionary theory. Even if evolutionary theory were well supported by the evidence, rational belief in God would not be precluded by it. Of course, various religious beli...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• 1 Science and/or Religion
• 2 Conflict, Separation, Integration
• 3 The Fabric of the Universe
• 4 “The Galileo Affair”
• 5 Darwin, God, and Creation
• 6 Evidence and Evolution
• 7 Chance and Creation
• 8 The Evolution of God?
• 9 Evolution and Ethics
• 10 God and the Good Life
• 11 In Search of the Soul
• 12 This Most Beautiful System
• 13 Judaism and Evolution
• 14 Islam and Evolution
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index