Nature's Witness

Abingdon Press

Chapter One

I have no idea why I was asked to be the "religious voice" at a science conference. Well, actually, I do have an idea. A group of students from Harvard and MIT sponsored a gathering for their peers on genetic technology and society. Because it was Harvard and MIT, the gathering drew a number of prominent scholars and practitioners. However, the invitation list was missing a theological perspective, which was something some of the students felt it necessary to have, if only in token form. Ergo my invitation. I do possess a theological perspective (a Christian, a semi-Calvinist, a closet Anglican). As a minister, I also have a religious voice (with a Southern twang). But I was a marginal science student. My problem in chemistry was that I never could remember which letters went with what element, or why. The math never made any sense to me. (How does Al + O₂ → Al₂O₃? I still don't completely get it.) Physics was impossible and biology wasn't much better, though it was a little more tangible. In biology there were no indecipherable letters or equations, but rather Bunsen burners to light and formaldehyde-soaked frogs to disembowel. But aside from playing with fire and frog guts (which contributed to the D I received for my misconduct), biology didn't make a whole lot of sense back then either.

This lack of scientific acumen actually helps explain why I ended up a minister (that and a need to improve my conduct). Empirical reason and precision, while appreciated in pastors, are not required to "master divinity" (ironically, we ministers are awarded masters of divinity when we graduate from seminary). Theology is basically an exchange of ideas about ultimate reality, ideas that may be judged as right or wrong, depending on your point of view. Not that anything goes, but the boundaries are fuzzier when you're talking about an infinite God than when you're talking about something as singularly fixed as the speed of light. This may be why some scientists hold theologians in such contempt. Why would anybody want to center their knowledge of reality on something so unverifiable and ambiguous as theology when there is so much else out there that passes empirical muster? If you're concerned about knowing absolute truth, why fool around with what very well may be nothing more than absolute nonsense?

I'll admit I've had my moments as a minister when I wonder whether I'm just making stuff up. People quote the Bible to support almost anything. I'll study and prepare sermons that ostensibly speak on behalf of God as if I had no agenda of my own, as if I truly know what God is thinking. I'll preach a particular point one week, only to preach what sounds like a contradictory point the next (though we preachers prefer to call these contradictions paradoxes). There is a good deal of ambiguity in theology (though we preachers prefer the word mystery). But sometimes I think I'm just playing with terminology. Does calling something paradoxical make it any less contradictory? A mystery remains ambiguous no matter what you name it. Theology operates contingent on faith. I do believe that ultimate truth resides in God. Knowing truth is therefore dependent upon God's revealing it. But I also hold that people are finite and fallen. Sin has a way of blurring our vision. Therefore even with truth, there's a limit to any human ability to know it entirely. (Though even as I write, I wonder whether I'm making this up too.)

This is not the kind of mind-set you want to have walking into a science conference. Science isn't much for paradox and mystery. While it can put up with contradiction (as long as its techniques are sound), it detests ambiguity. While there exists plenty that is yet unknown, that does not mean the unknown will stay that way. As a freestanding reality, truth is not dependent upon one's particular perception. A tree falling in the forest generates sound waves whether your eardrum is there to vibrate and your auditory nerve to carry it to your brain. Truth is therefore open to discovery and inquiry, not dependent solely upon divine revelation. Given the right tools, whatever may be known can be known (and what can't be known scientifically doesn't really matter anyway). Unlike theological musings, scientific findings result from lengthy and rigorous scrutiny with the goal of accurately describing reality. Theories are constructed specifically to be rejected if wrong. Science depends upon a strongly disciplined methodology with public verification and independent corroboration. Confirmed research findings compel agreement by the entire scientific community regardless of any existing bias. Ask a scientifically qualified scientist in Rome or Tel Aviv, Calcutta or Kyoto, what matter is made of and in all four cities you will receive the same reply, "quarks and leptons."

By contrast, ask four religiously qualified people in Rome, Tel Aviv, Calcutta, and Kyoto about the nature of spiritual matter, and you probably will get four different answers, and maybe more than that. Theologians and ministers are not exaggerating for effect when we say we don't fully understand what we are talking about. The fundamental ineffability of God makes any claim to full understanding necessarily provisional. In fact, for some theological traditions, the pinnacle of knowledge is not knowing. Theological propositions are not intended to be proven or repudiated on empirical grounds. In Christianity, conformity with Scripture and tradition are stressed, but disagreements are often settled simply by starting new traditions and denominations. Faith is the determinant, with one's experience and perspective playing an important supporting role. This is not a bad thing, mind you, but it is definitely not scientific.

So, yes, I felt a little intimidated when I realized what I was up against as the "religious voice" at a science conference. And once I found out I was scheduled to speak alongside MIT Nobel laureates and Harvard National Medal of Science winners, the intimidation was overrun by sheer panic!

Make Believe?

You can't make up stuff about empirical data. It wouldn't do to tag data as a paradox or a mystery and just let it go at that. I had to go into the conference with something more. At least I needed to sound informed. So I raced to the library and checked out a pile of books and articles. I boned up on the basics of evolutionary biology, genetic research, molecular biology, biochemistry, bioethics, economics, medicine, and law. Some of what I read was scary. But even more scary was reading just enough to fool myself into thinking I had a clue about things others had devoted entire careers to learning.

For instance I read how plants are genetically engineered to be impervious to herbicides and how insects are being made to attack crop predators. I read how other organisms have been genetically engineered to clean up oil spills and absorb radioactivity. I read about the major commercial role of genetically altered plants and animals acting as living factories for the production of organic plastics, pharmaceuticals, and organs for transplantation into humans. Pharmaceutical companies are also manufacturing...