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.
MATHEW CLARK
Hi Tim
I was invited to a conference a Lutheran seminary in Wuppertal Germany a few years ago, together with a number of other Pentecostal African theologians, where the Lutheran Mission society was wrestling with reports from their Indonesian missionaries about dealing with demonic possession and exorcism. The response from the German church was predictable and quite hostile. The missionaries countered their scepticism with “You weren’t there!” empirical arguments. The Pentecostals, all from a generation who had grown up where the demonstrated Lordship of Jesus was a daily occurrence and the power of the Holy Spirit regularly evident in life and liturgy, kept mainly quiet and nodded encouragingly at the missionaries.
Your entire debate and argumentation would never arise in contexts where encounters with the Biblical God were regular, observable and transformational. This was my response to the tongues-and-baptism-in-the-Spirit debate at international conferences in the 90’s already: The hostility off US evangelicals has dominated the debate on the topic. Outside of the USA evangelicals are a minority and Pentecostals a majority, and simply on in the power of the Spirit.
There is an exception outside of the typical North American post-Pentecostal churches with their Church Growth and Great Man of God and contemporary “worship” paradigms: the children and grandchildren of those whose lives and social condition had been powerfully and radically transformed, having enjoyed the benefits of their forebears’ consequent social upward mobility, have the leisure to review and critique, or simply ignore for more fashionable milieus the faith and testimony and belief system of that generation. This is now true across the so-called Third World, where Africa, Latin America, S and E Asia and the Pacific nations have been changed in their cultures and society by massive Pentecostal transformation. Their children and grandchildren, free and ignorant of the bondage of the sins of the poor and the ravages of “victim” ideology that their forebears escaped, now foster an environment where regular demonstrations of divine power are either poo-pooed or simply unsought, where trendy church expansion formulae, liturgies and the Great Man of God Syndrome are “cool”. And where aspirant thinkers can float their notions of agnosticic theology in a space where “who can argue with them from empirical experience of their futility and irreleavance.
By all means retain a critical faculty with regard to church and churches – they surely have deserved it for over 2000 years now! I have stated countless times in secular and Christian participation in theological and academic forums: I cannot do theology as though I had never encountered and been transformed by Jesus Christ.
I there is a problem, it lies in generational change. I taught in Pentecostal seminaries for 34 years. In the mid-eighties students were still mature people, sacrificially abandoning their secular livelihoods to prepare for ministry to which God demonstrably had called them. Their application was determined, their liturgies and preaching moving, powerful and transformational. This changed during the 90’s as the new intakes became younger, the children of the earlier powerful figures, and the new and more trendy formulaic paradigms permeated church culture and liturgies. Most remarkable since then has been, and particularly during my decade in UK teaching, that in classes between 20 and 100 students the only ones who recognised my own testimonies of living in an era of rich demonstration of divine transformation were those recently delivered from addiction, previous criminals, and “converted” sceptics – one a dean of PG research at a UK university!
I could write forever – but I am 74, retired and not always of good health and lack the energy now. My summarised response: get off your comfortable butt in a generation of those who have never lacked for anything, and who now find it entertaining to speculate “learnedly” on topics that have permeate church history particularly in the generations immediately after revival. Take your brain and knowledge away from the false coalface of ministry and thought and sacrificially involve yourself on the challenging coalface of the lost, lonely, confused, hurting and exploited generation that exists in countless millions outside your windows. Go! Don’t smugly tarnish the gospel with your theoretical fancies – rediscover the challenge of the cross, the power of the Spirit, the Lordship of Jesus, and the goodness of God in transforming those who come to Him in Jesus.
Like Paul, after decades of academic research and involvement, I assert: I preach only Christ, and Him crucified. The power of God that saves and transforms. And power of my preaching is not in intellectual articulation or argument but in the demonstration of power.
You know that too, Tim. I seen the preaching and testimony of the cross bring atheists to tears, and seen the Christ of the cross heal and restore the crippled, broken, destroyed and confused. Go and minister that, not philosophical fantasies that are neither new nor convincing.
Tim Healy
Hi Matthew. It’s great to hear from you again, even if only to be rebuked! 🙂 I’m sorry to hear that you have been unwell. I hope you’re getting good support and that retirement is affording you and Val the opportunity to do the things that delight your soul.
I hear you and totally understand where you are coming from, though I don’t share your sentimental attachment to old-time Pentecostal religion. I also have some doubts about the rampant spread of Pentecostalism in the majority world. I find it unsurprising given the high levels of superstition, low levels of education, and rampant poverty in many of those contexts. As far as appealing to “transformative experiences” as evidence that is God at work is concerned, there are countless claims of life-change within every religious and non-religious context, attributing that change to everything from “manifesting” to “dieting” to “psychedelics” to “the power of God”. I’m not persuaded.
Regarding your assumptions about how I spend my time and energy these days (on my butt pontificating about vain philosophies), it might be best to do some enquiry before jumping to conclusions. Given we haven’t been in contact for 20 years, there is probably a whole lot you don’t know about me, my work, my faith journey, my ministry trajectory or the motivation behind my philosophical musings.
Of course, I would be more than happy to reconnect, catch up on developments in your world and update you on mine. Given your comments about your age, health, and general lack of energy I would totally understand if you didn’t feel up for it. If, however, you are, please let me know and I’ll reach out via email. Maybe we can zoom. Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts here.
MATHEW CLARK
Sorry, my response lacks spacing and paragraphing when posted…
Rushed reply it was..
Tim Healy
No apology needed. It is clear enough to follow. 🙂
MATHEW CLARK
The trouble with long life, learning and ministry is that in one’s inactive final years one cannot avoid noticing generational developments and changes and, as a theologian, impose some forms of categorisations and systemisation to make sense of them.
I became Pentecostal at age eight, when my Anglican mother who had been abandoned with three children by my father, joined my Salvation Army grandmother at a new Pentecostal church plant in a mixed class suburb of Durban (the railway line was literally a class divide!) As middle-class people, mom and gran had a great decades long influence helping and molding existing and new members. I lived among raw sinners and regularly experienced services where the Holy Spirit brooded over the congregation and pleaded with sinners to repent. And they did. As raw as the sin was, so radical was the transformation. I took this experience as normal, and saw it operate among Europeans, African and Indians.
After eight years of war-time ministry in Rhodesia God clearly called me to theology, and that early context and my own powerful experiences of God among it never allowed me the luxury of retreat to the theology of the office, study and podium. To tell liberal professors at Unisa and RAU, and Wales, Bangor and Chester that I could not do theology as if I had never met God was a radical risk in the profession. I even joined a Philosophy of Religion association of mainly sceptical theologians from Universities across the UK where I presented at a number of seminars and was strangely always welcome to return. The exotic pet? I spoke regularly at Christians in Science groups around Worcester and Birmingham, and led many Brit “atheists” to tearful acceptance of the reality of a living and transformative God simply by telling them why I, a natural candidate for Cynical Simon, had lost my life in the service of Jesus. I worked with two top scientists (one the Dean of Reseach at Durham in a series of seminars on Christianity and Science where I interacted with many non-religious scientists at conversational level to our mutual intellectual and spiritual stimulation. Like Francis Schaeffer I have found that the Christian God and worldview can stand on their own two feet in the market-place of ideas. Anyways, I found my closest relationship with the churches and leaders of Southern Africa and SE/E Asia, attending numerous conferences and weeks of teaching ministers in a number of nations. I noticed there that folks who could not testify to a radical encounter with a transforming God were usually not accepted as theologians, teachers or leaders. My peers were therefore people on the cutting edge of Christian outreach and church planting on the challenging coalface with the major religions of the world: Hindusim, Islam, Bhuddism, Taoism, and folk-versions of them all.
Last bit of self-information: I started reading at the age of 5, and an enlightened librarian allowed me access to all the books in the library. From 1956 until I have devoured science and science fiction, starting with Werner von Braun, Clarke, Asimov, Simak, Aldis and a torrent of 50’s and later authors. I still read mainly SF at a rate of 5-6 books per week (yay retirement and ebooks!) and my interests and focus are still strongly focused on the mix of hard science and powerful religion. Your headline “new science and old religion” told me more than your can imagine about your intellectual orientation, confirmed by the content as being one more rather predictable and ennui-inducing contribution by a scholar-thinker imagining that what they are expressing is radical and fresh. Sorry Tim, it is neither, and is as predictable as the isms, phobics, and “hateful” rhetoric of the woke crowd. Sorry, my friend, you have presented nothing new nor cutting edge. Not that you won’t find appreciative
Tim, you expound a position which as a teacher and scholar I have encountered literally scores of times, among colleagues, students, theologians, and everyday churchgoers. That you have come to expound it so “evangelistically” now tells me much about your chosen responses to the admittedly often bizarre and infuriating absurdities of church, especially Pentecostal church, leadership and tactics. Like me, you seem to belong among the Dones, those millions who leave organised church/Christianity either to preserve their faith, or to deny and abandon it. I know which choice I made.
Forgive my apparent hardness and lack of sympathy for you or your views. Forgive my somewhat broad brush. You know that I could engage you on a high level of philosophical, historical and socio-historical interaction, but that would simply admit some credibility to your theses. Instead, as a one-time mentor who appreciates vastly both your abilities and the opportunities you have enjoyed, and the vast gifts a living God has granted you, I urge you to take leave of your ruminations that are not new, unusual, exciting or ground-breaking. Leave the mess of pottage and embrace again with all your heart the God of your Fathers.
Not so long ago I lay at death’s door, bleeding to death from a massive post-operative haemorrhage, my wife and daughter in attendance. As it grew dark I stared down the road of no return – but what I remember most is that crossing that last span of life held no fear or tension for me. I saw no big white lights, heard no angels nor relatives calling me home, but I was ready to walk it. The urgent medical intervention that eventually saved me also caused major trauma to my abdomen: painful, and debilitating me for months. With reduced quality of life, nevertheless I remain convinced that I know Whom I have believed, and that he is able to keep what I have committed to Him for eternity.
Tim Healy
Hi Matthew. Thanks for the reply, the clarification, and the update on your health journey. I’m glad to hear that you pulled through, although I have no doubt, that like Paul, you were torn between staying for the sake of those you love, and departing to be with the Lord.
I have deeply appreciated your investment into my life, particularly in my formative ministry years and continue to hold you in high regard for your sharp mind, deep knowledge, wicked sense of humour, and willingness to just call a spade a spade. I hear and sincerely appreciate your exhortation. I fear though that you may be assuming too much about my intentions and aspirations. I’m not claiming to be offering something new, unusual, groundbreaking, or even controversial. Maybe the title of the post is confusing but the premise is not: science and religion are not enemies. Science is a valid source of knowledge and it tells us something important about the way the world works. The created order reveals something important about the existence, nature, and character God (Romans 1:20-21; Psalm 19:1-6). Science and theology have to be in dialogue. Science is an evolving field and new forms of science are offering new insights into the nature of reality. Theology is responding with new perspectives on who God might be and what God might be like, in light of these discoveries. There is nothing new or particularly controversial about that. Sometimes scientific discovery leads to theological revision. This has been true historically and we have to be open to that possibility in the future. All I am saying is that we cannot assume our religious traditions and theological perspectives to be the full and final statement on reality when science has a vital role to play in helping us arrive at the truth. What is so problematic about that?