In the Beginning…
The earliest forms of religious practice date back tens of thousands of years and were based on localised mythologies that reflected the unique cultural and geographical contexts in which they emerged.
These primitive forms of faith were as varied and numerous as the small tribes of people who possessed them. The beliefs associated with them appeared as human consciousness evolved and people became capable of responding to the mysteries and adversities of life with imaginative speculation.
The Sorcerer of Grotte de Gabillou – an apparent animal-human hybrid.
Part of that speculation was to conceive of a dualistic reality that included an invisible, non-material spiritual world capable of interacting with our physical world. This was a way to explain the inexplicable phenomena that characterised our material reality, including death, sickness, natural disasters, and complex natural phenomena.
These tribal superstitions included concepts like gods, spirits, angels, demons, and the souls of departed ancestors. Other phenomena, such as shape-shifting, curses, and spells, were part of the matrix too. Ideas about these were expressed through songs, stories, sacrifices, artefacts, and artistic expressions, such as rudimentary paintings and carvings.
The religious rituals and practices associated with these beliefs were initially passed down from one generation to the next through observation and, eventually, as language developed, through oral tradition.
A New World Order…
During the two-thousand-year-long period between 1500 BCE and 600 CE, our current major religions emerged as a means by which people not only explained the mysterious, wonderful, and painful realities of life, but also organised themselves into larger, more cohesive communities that transcended the local tribe.
The narratives that emerged at this time provided both meaning and a sense of belonging for these larger groups of people. Due to the advent of complex writing fifteen hundred years earlier (around 3300 BCE), these ideas could be communicated more widely and, eventually, universalised.
However, what remained central to this wider wave of religious development was the idea of an ontological hierarchical duality, resulting in separate categories such as natural/spiritual, body/soul, secular/sacred, heaven/earth, and brain/mind, among others.
This construct led many (though not all) religions to view the universe as a collection of temporal, physical/material substances or “things” (rocks, animals, plants, liquids, etc.) that were sometimes influenced by eternal forces from the unseen spiritual world.
What we now know, through scientific discovery, is that the crude dualistic philosophical conception of reality is questionable.
The Age of Science and Reason…
Science has emerged in the past few hundred years as a valuable source of insight and knowledge. Although science has yet to definitively disprove substance dualism (and may never do so), it has advanced our understanding of the universe’s true nature in other ways, leading to new physical (and philosophical) theories about the character of fundamental reality.
Of course, science hasn’t answered every question about the nature of our existence or provided a unified theory of everything (e.g., linking general relativity and quantum mechanics). Still, it has profoundly changed what we know about many things and presented us with theories that are both illuminating and perplexing (e.g., evolution, quantum field theory, and cosmic inflation). As a result, new ideas about the nature of spacetime and our experience of it are emerging in the discourse of science and philosophy of religion, offering competing models of ultimate reality.
Some of these theories argue that the cosmos is better understood as a dynamic series of interrelated and interdependent events or relationships, rather than a static collection of individual substances. What we perceive as separate objects are, in reality, manifestations of an ongoing interaction of forces, fields, energies, waves, and particles, giving rise to dynamic events with open-ended possibilities. The universe is, therefore, in a perpetual state of becoming, which, incidentally, requires death and extinction as vital catalysts for the emergence of new events.
These competing physical and philosophical models of spacetime (such as block-universe interpretations and dynamic event-based cosmological frameworks) reflect an ongoing debate not only about the nature of reality but also about the nature of God.
While there is much to say about the ideas emerging from physics generally and quantum mechanics specifically, the question I’m interested in is what these new ideas about the nature of the universe might mean for theology and faith.
Should we anticipate new faith-science integration issues arising from more recent scientific theories and discoveries concerning reality?
Five hundred years ago, science revealed that the structure of the solar system and the Earth’s position in it contradicted the Church’s teaching on the matter. Once the science was shown to be conclusive, the church had to revise its theology.
Less than a hundred years ago, science revealed the Earth’s age to be at least 3.8 billion years old, not 6,000-10,000 years old, as a literal reading of Genesis would suggest, or as church tradition would argue. Once again, the church had to update its theology and find new ways of interpreting scriptural passages, such as Genesis chapter one.
Thanks to biblical scholars like John Walton, we have alternative hermeneutical lenses with which to view the opening chapters of Genesis (reading it as ancient cosmology). Understandably, some have been slow to adopt the new hermeneutic and insist on holding to a literalist “young earth” creationist perspective. However, in time, that particular doctrinal perspective will give way to the new science-informed approach to understanding the text.
Evolutionary science has raised equally challenging questions for our anthropology. The subject of human origins and its intersection with theology is a fascinating field of study, offering new and important theories regarding age-old theological concepts, such as creation and the Imago Dei (the image of God).
Challenging Old Assumptions…
There is no doubt in my mind that as new insights emerge from the physical and biological sciences, they will continue to demand a reevaluation of some of our theological assumptions. It’s already happening.
Contemporary post-enlightenment theologies, such as panentheism, open theism, and process theology, are attempting to broaden our view of God to align with the hypotheses, theories, and discoveries of science and to resolve some of the more challenging philosophical problems associated with classical theism (such as the problem of evil).
The kinds of questions we have to ask might be challenging, such as: What happens if we are forced to discard dualism as an outdated ontological paradigm? If so, will our classical religions survive? What will become of our theological anthropology if there are no immaterial souls or disembodied spirits? More importantly, how should we think about the nature of God?
The apostle Paul says in Romans 1:20-21 that God has revealed Himself through the things He has made — not just His existence, but His divine nature, implying that what we see in the universe is a clue to the true character of the Divine. If that is true, what do the new scientific observations mean for our understanding of the nature of God? Science can’t prove God, but can science reveal God? I think so.
Now that we can see our universe more clearly, will we think about God differently?
While these questions and the new theological perspectives they generate may seem uncomfortable to some, I believe that the history of religion teaches us that ideas about God evolve (even in the Bible!). Theological imagination and revision are integral to every faith tradition.
I wonder how we might think about God if we relied not only on ancient speculative superstition but also on the revelations of science?
I sense that if Christianity, like all other religions, is going to survive and thrive in this new age of science-informed explorations of reality, it will need to be open to new ways of thinking about who God is and what God does. The ideas about God handed to us by classical theism clearly have their limitations. What might emerge from the process of rethinking God is indeed an exciting prospect.
In Conclusion
Part of the challenge most religions face, Christianity included, is that the majority of our religious traditions were formed at a time when human culture was steeped in superstition, plagued by high levels of poverty, characterised by low levels of education, and devoid of any scientific insight whatsoever.
The doctrines and dogmas that emerged during this time, whilst containing much ancient wisdom and representing the best efforts and intentions of those who formulated them, cannot be assumed to be the complete and final statement on reality simply because they are ancient. If anything, their age and context make them more questionable.
I’m not suggesting that ancient religious traditions have no role to play in contemporary society or that we should discard tradition quickly or easily. What I am saying is that preserving tradition for tradition’s sake, or assuming that a tradition should be universal and immutable, is deeply misguided. It is the responsibility of those who inherit a tradition to evaluate what should remain part of it and what should be added for the benefit of future generations.
I’m also not arguing a case for scientism here. I’m not suggesting that the only pathway to truth is through science (such a claim would be unscientific and, therefore, incoherent). What I am saying is that the scientific revolution has fundamentally and irreversibly changed our understanding of the nature of reality. We cannot assume our religious traditions are greater than or immune to science’s revelations.
Science may not be able to answer every question or solve all the mysteries surrounding ultimate reality. Still, when good science is done correctly, it must be taken seriously as a reliable and authoritative source of knowledge and understanding. When it is, it invariably leads to theological revision. That has been true historically, and I suspect it will remain true in the future. While people of faith are comfortable with revelation, tradition, imagination, and intuition as sources of wisdom, knowledge, and truth, there is a distinct discomfort with science. I find that peculiar.
I think this observation from Illia Delio sums it up nicely:
“Today, we find ourselves at a critical juncture. The resistance of religious institutions to fully embrace scientific discovery, particularly evident in Christianity’s response to modern science, has created what Robert Geraci and David Noble identify as a paradox: while technology emerged from Judeo-Christian traditions that promise renewal and transformation, religious institutions have largely remained static, their doctrines essentially unchanged since medieval times.” – Ilia Dellio
Samuel Ridyard
Hi Tim. I was sent a link to this piece earlier today, and I had to write a response, because I was very surprised to read something so poorly written from a person whose thinking I have been impressed by in the past. I believe that if this was submitted to you by one of your students that you would be hard pressed to give it a passing grade.
Your essay appears to rest on the premise that there is a dichotomy between Substance Dualism and ‘Science’, yet you present no evidence of substance dualism having been proven false (please present the research) and ignore that there are a wide variety of religious beliefs about the relationship between matter and consciousness, few of which are incompatible with ‘science’.
I take it that you are not suggesting a reductive physicalism/materialism (consciousness is an illusion, all consists of chemical and electrical activity). Are you referring to a non-reductive materialist position, which suggests that consciousness ‘emerges’ from matter under certain conditions (despite this emerging never being explained, effectively constituting a ‘miracle’)? If not, are you referring to a Thomist/Aristotelian Metaphysics, which posits a hylomorphic relationship between consciousness and matter?
Are you perhaps taking an idealist (Kantian) position, suggesting that there is only mind, because matter is only available to us through the phenomena? Are you suggesting that the noumena can never truly be interacted with, and therefore should be of little importance to any honest scientist? I’d be surprised if this was your position given you are suggesting that theology should be relegated below science in the epistemological hierarchy.
Might it be that you have been impressed by the speculative realists, such as Graham Harman and Tim Morton? I think the flat ontology and transhumanist praxis that they advocate for would probably be an attractive proposition to someone who has concerns about the ecological impact of human consciousness, though I would be surprised if you followed them into the misanthropic and anti-natalist conclusions of their work.
Perhaps you are taking an analytic idealist position (through your reading of thinkers like Kastrup and McGilchrist) suggesting that it is consciousness that is ontologically primary, and matter is secondary. As McGilchrist proposes matter is a phase of consciousness, like ice and vapour are phases of water, and perhaps this is your vague description of the “perpetual state of becoming”.
I believe you should clarify yourself and provide references to these theories that you are so impressed by, so that those whom you influence can read for themselves whether or not they are convincing.
The idea that modern man is faced only with a choice between substance dualism and a vague ‘science’ suggesting that there are “new physical (and philosophical) theories about the character of fundamental reality” seems like an attempt to undermine a traditional belief in the existence of an immortal soul by handwaving towards the Darwinian or Materialist evidence against it, while also hedging your bets by making oblique references to ‘competing physical and philosophical models of spacetime’.
I think that your dismissal of religious beliefs about the nature of the world because substance dualism is inaccurate is not only a strawman, but an incorrect premise to begin with. Suggesting that all religious beliefs have a dualist ontological hierarchy is inaccurate, and a teacher of theology should know better. As you well know, most Christian denominations explicitly teach a non-dualist incarnation. To suggest that a gnostic heresy is commonplace amongst followers of the largest religion on earth is a surprising claim, that I note comes without evidence.
For what it is worth, I think that nailing your flag to the mast of ‘science’ as the primary way in which we understand the world around us seems short sighted and careless. Science is only one of five epistemological tools that human beings have; to ignore intuition, imagination, reason, and tradition is a mistake. You state advances in science as it they are discovered and then become ‘settled’, however this is not the case. Newtonian physics was true and the established science, up until 1915 when -all of a sudden- it wasn’t anymore. Up until recently it was established science that a lack of serotonin caused depression, we now know through Joanna Moncrieff’s recent research that this idea was stated without evidence and has led to considerable harm being done.
I think your advocation for the primacy of science is a necessary condition of your adherence to a Whiggish view of history. We have moved from repressive savages to enlightened moderns (I note this is a ‘dualist’ position) and need to rid ourselves of these outdated religious ideas that our stupid ancestors came up with. I think it is understandable that you have come to this position, because it is the post-war liberal consensus, however I think it’s well worth paying attention to Chesterton, who suggests that just because one is ignorant of why a fence is found in a field, that does not mean they should remove it.
Tim Healy
Hi Sam
Thanks so much for taking the time to read and comment on the recent blog post. It’s great to hear from you. I hope you’re going well.
This was a blog post for a popular audience, not an academic journal article. If a student submitted this as an assessment, I would certainly fail it because a scholarly article or thesis has a different set of standards to meet as far as engagement with the literature is concerned.
I’m surprised to hear you conclude that I am arguing that science has proven substance dualism to be false. I said precisely the opposite – that substance dualism has not been proven by science to be false.
“Although science has yet to disprove substance dualism definitively, it has dramatically advanced our understanding of the universe’s true nature…”
I have no intention of providing research to show that science has disproved substance dualism because there is none, nor am I making that claim. Proving or disproving metaphysical reality is above science’s pay grade. Trying to prove the existence (or non-existence) of God (or immaterial human souls, angels, demons, etc.) using science is akin to measuring wind speed with a thermometer. However, science has made profound advances in our understanding of a wide range of issues through fields such as cosmology, genetics, and evolution.
As you are no doubt aware, there are over 200 theories of consciousness. I am not taking a position on any of them. I am simply pointing out that the nature of consciousness is one of those great unsolved mysteries of life (hence the multiplicity of theories). Who knows whether consciousness is emergent or fundamental? I’m agnostic on the matter. Both science and philosophy are attempting to solve the riddle, but neither has done so definitively.
In short, the answer is “no”, I’m not an idealist. I align more with the thinking of people like John Searle, who argues for an objective reality independent of our observation and perception.
Also, I am not saying that theology should be relegated to below science in the epistemological hierarchy as a matter of principle. However, in the relationship between faith and science, there is occasion where theological revision is necessary on the basis of science. When science tells us something definitive about the nature of reality and our theology contradicts it, we would do well to pay heed to the science and update our doctrine (heliocentrism and the age of the earth are prime examples of this). I think evolution also has significant implications for our theological anthropology and our soteriology, but that is a newer discourse than the one informed by cosmology.
No, I am not advocating for the transhumanist agenda, nor am I a nihilist or anti-natalist. I do have concerns about the anthropocentrism inherent in most forms of the Christian faith, but that is a separate issue from the one I am addressing in this particular blog.
You’re right, I have been particularly vague about the details of both the scientific hypotheses and theological theories that seek to respond to them. That’s a fair critique. The motivation was partly to avoid overburdening people with too much information and complexity, and perhaps that was misguided on my part. A more detailed discussion of these could be the subject of a future post (or published in a different format for an academic audience).
The theories I have in mind here are those emerging from process philosophy (North-Whitehead) and process theology (John Cobb, Teilhard de Chardin) and brought into the current science-philosophy of religion discourse by people like Illia Delio, Jürgen Moltmann, Philip Clayton, and Greg Boyd. Process theology, panentheism, and open theism are all post-Enlightenment theologies that seek to respond to scientific hypotheses about the nature of spacetime, specifically (Theory A vs. Theory B, etc.), and what these two theories mean for our understanding of God.
The vagueness of my reference to these theories and theologies may not be as helpful as I intended. Still, the primary point of the article is that both religion and science, at least in some sense, are pursuing the same goal – an understanding of ultimate reality. Neither has been able to answer all our most profound existential questions about the true nature of reality and whether any metaphysical/supernatural reality exists beyond the physical world. What I appreciate about science is its posture of epistemic humility – it acknowledges its limits and admits when it is wrong. Unfortunately, I don’t see that same posture in most religious contexts, where bold and confident claims about ultimate reality are stated as fact and faith is defined as certainty.
I’m not dismissing religions as invalid as much as I am pointing out the limitations of their truth claims. I believe religions evolved naturally and understandably as a response to the mysteries and adversities of life, serving a vital purpose in providing people with meaning, belonging, purpose, and comfort. I just don’t think that religion can claim to know the truth about ultimate reality or prove metaphysical reality exists (spiritual beings, immaterial souls, conscious life beyond the grave for humans, etc.). I don’t mind if people sincerely believe these things based on the evidence they have at their disposal (or whatever other reason they have for believing – most of our beliefs are not based on empirical evidence or reason. They are socially constructed. We tend to trust those we consider trustworthy and authoritative).
While I agree that Christianity’s official anthropology is a non-dualist incarnation (ensouled bodies or embodied souls), the majority of Christians I interact with (which I acknowledge are mostly Pentecostals, Charismatics, and other conservative evangelicals) have a sort of neo-Platonic conception of their existence (eternal immaterial souls inside a temporal material body, the latter soon to be discarded). While not the official Christian anthropology, it is certainly the predominant way these people think about themselves.
I’m surprised to hear you conclude that I suggest science is the primary way we understand the world, and that I am ignoring other sources of knowledge like tradition. Here is (exactly) what I said:
“I’m also not suggesting that the only pathway to truth is through science (such a claim would be unscientific and, therefore, incoherent). What I am saying is that the scientific revolution has fundamentally and irreversibly changed our understanding of the nature of reality. We cannot assume our religious traditions are greater than or immune to science’s revelations. Science may not be able to answer every question or solve all the mysteries surrounding ultimate reality. Still, it must be taken seriously as a reliable and authoritative source of knowledge and understanding. When it is, it invariably leads to theological revision.”
I would be very surprised if you disagreed with any part of that statement.
I agree that science isn’t methodologically perfect and is itself evolving or developing. I’m very much aware of the development from Newtonian physics to Einsteinian relativity, and that more recent explorations into quantum mechanics are challenging some of the ideas within general/classical physics. This is partly my point. In the past, science has revealed truths about the world, and the church has had to rethink its theology (heliocentrism and the age of the earth are examples of this). I’m suggesting it’s likely that as science continues to evolve and discover new things about the nature of reality, we may be in for some more theological revision. I’m just saying we ought to be open to that possibility (or probability).
Re: your statement: “I think your advocation for the primacy of science is a necessary condition of your adherence to a Whiggish view of history. We have moved from repressive savages to enlightened moderns (I note this is a ‘dualist’ position) and need to rid ourselves of these outdated religious ideas that our stupid ancestors came up with. I think it is understandable that you have come to this position, because it is the post-war liberal consensus, however I think it’s well worth paying attention to Chesterton, who suggests that just because one is ignorant of why a fence is found in a field, that does not mean they should remove it.”
Again, I’m surprised that you are concluding that, given what I actually said:
“I’m not suggesting that ancient religious traditions have no role to play in contemporary society or that we should discard tradition quickly or easily. What I am saying is that preserving tradition for tradition’s sake, or assuming that a tradition should be universal and immutable, is deeply misguided. It is the responsibility of those who inherit a tradition to evaluate what should remain part of it and what should be added for the benefit of future generations.”
The ancient religious traditions that have been passed down to us by previous generations cannot be assumed to be the final and complete statement on reality, especially since the scientific revolution has provided us with a new and vital source of knowledge. I would be equally surprised if you disagreed with that as well.
Thanks again for taking the time to read and respond. I appreciate it.
Blessings
Tim
Samuel Ridyard
Hi Tim. Thanks for the detailed reply.
I am sending you an email responding to your assertions in detail.
Elias Thorn
I feel compelled to write this, not only to address the article but to warn those reading it. While exploring science and faith can be valuable, I believe some of the interpretations presented here risk leading people away from the truth of God’s Word.
1. Genesis is Historical, Not Allegorical
Scripture presents creation and humanity as real events:
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1).
Adam and Eve were real individuals (Romans 5:12; 1 Corinthians 15:21–22), referenced historically by Jesus Himself (Matthew 19:4–5).
Allegorizing Genesis undermines the very foundations of sin, salvation, and God’s plan for humanity.
2. Humans Are Unique in God’s Image
The Bible clearly distinguishes humans from the rest of creation:
Genesis 1:26–27: Humans are made in God’s image.
Psalm 8:4–6: Humanity holds moral, rational, and spiritual uniqueness that evolution cannot explain.
3. God’s Knowledge is Complete
Suggestions that God’s knowledge is limited contradict scripture:
Isaiah 46:10: God declares “the end from the beginning.”
Matthew 10:29–30: God knows even the fall of sparrows.
4. Scripture is the Ultimate Authority
Science can inform, but it cannot redefine God’s Word:
Isaiah 55:8–9 reminds us God’s ways surpass human understanding.
2 Timothy 3:16–17 confirms Scripture is sufficient for teaching, correction, and training in righteousness.
A Word to Readers:
While it can be tempting to reconcile modern science with Scripture in ways that feel intellectually satisfying, doing so at the expense of foundational truths is dangerous. Misinterpreting God’s Word can mislead people spiritually and separate them from the truth of salvation. I encourage every reader to test teachings against the Bible and not allow scientific interpretations to overwrite God’s revealed truth.