The Fears and Failures of Knowledge

Part 2 of a Dialogue on Faith

“Don’t think you can lecture me about what the world does and doesn’t need,” said the skeptic, quite coldly. “As far as I’m concerned, Christians long ago lost whatever credibility they may have gained through their ‘good works’.”

“I would never claim that Christians hold any sort of monopoly on “good works,” whatever you may mean by that. Still, I’m curious when you think we lost our credibility.” asked the Christian with concern.

“There’s no exact moment,” explained the skeptic. “But it certainly happened. I think it happened whenever you—that is, your religion—first became afraid of the world changing. Your religion saw the world threatening to leave you behind; everything was progressing while Christianity was staying the same, clinging desperately to old and outdated ways and beliefs. Your religion began to panic, for they still believed that the church had some relevance in the world; they continued to believe in miracles long after science had proven them wrong!”

“I’m sorry?” asked the Christian with a sort of laugh. “Science did what now?”

“Christians became afraid of science because science actively spoke out against the possibility of miracles, and they acted out of fear. That’s when you lost your credibility.”

“I’m sorry, but that may be the most absurd thing I’ve heard in some time! What does science have to say about miracles? Science can no more prove a miracle impossible than it can prove that there are angels dancing on pinheads! What sort of faith do you have in science, friend? You think that it took some great leap of science to tell men that it was impossible for a man to rise from the dead? Do you really think it took a mind like Newton’s to finally convince the world that, scientifically speaking, death is a very ultimate thing, and, scientifically speaking, one simply cannot rise from the dead? Or do you think the disciples were really more ready to believe in the resurrection because, somewhere in their primitive minds, they thought that maybe science hadn’t quite ruled out the possibility of it happening?”

“No—you don’t understand what I’m trying to say! In the middle ages-”

“I think I do understand it. I really do. I actually don’t think you’re wrong on every point, but you have to be careful not to say something ridiculous like science has disproven miracles.”

“But it has! Every bit of science tells us that there are unbreakable natural laws!”

“That much is more or less true, and yet, one can’t possibly believe in miracles without first believing in science.”

“How is that?” said the skeptic... skeptically.

“Because no one can recognize that a law is being broken if the law does not exist. Because the disciples really did believe that, scientifically speaking, Christ was dead and in a tomb. If they did not believe that, His resurrection may have been seen as an aberration, but it could not possibly have been recognized as a miracle. Only when one accepts natural laws can they possibly notice that they have been turned on their heads.”

“Fine, your point is taken. Now, you said that I wasn’t wrong on every point. Where do you agree with me?”

“You said that Christians have responded to science out of fear.”

“That much is obvious,” the skeptic said, nodding.

“Obvious and regrettable. I can admit that Christians have made many mistakes in their response to science. I deny, however, that this says anything at all about the truth or value of Christianity.”

“Of course it does! It says that yours must be a frail, pitiful religion if it is so afraid that science will prove it wrong.”

“All men have their frailties. Men have, on occasion, been afraid of science. Christianity, on the other hand, has never had reason to fear. That being said, I think we can both be thankful that the regrettable fear of some Christians—who might, indeed, have wished to slow or stop the progress of science—was never successful in slowing science.”

“Now that is absurd,” said the skeptic with some force. “Christians are perhaps more responsible than anything else for slowing science!”

“Really? I must have missed something. When did we do that?”

“You’d probably think it cliché if I brought up the trial of Galileo, but that’s the most obvious example.”

“Of course it is! It’s the most obvious because it’s so very unique! It’s the event that skeptics bring up because it is the only one! The persecution of Galileo is held up as some sort of symbol of a greater epidemic of persecution, when in fact it was, for the most part, a singular incident.”

“Now that is absurd! It is indicative of a certain stubbornness on the part of religion.”

“Yes, it is. Stubborn we certainly are. And I will defend the stubbornness of Christianity to my dying breath. But, really, the persecution of Galileo has really been blown comically out of proportion. It was a singular incident, in which the church wrongly considered heretical a man espousing a view that wasn’t even original, simply because a few of the clergy failed to understand that their scriptures were never intended to say anything about scientific things. Galileo has, ever since, been treated as a martyr, as if he was burned at the stake or fed to lions, when in fact he was asked to recant and placed on house arrest, where he comfortably pursued scientific matters until his death. If only all persecution was so benign!”

“Again, you’re missing my point! It is a matter of principle!”

“Yes, and on principle, the church was certainly wrong.”

“And it has remained wrong ever since! The church was doing everything they could to stop scientific progress.”

“Again, you’re quite wrong. The church, in that one instance, made a meager attempt to put a stop to that one theory—but, of course, they did not even slow it down, for the theory was accurate. It was too easily tested by other scientists, too numerous even for the church. Finally, the church was forced to accept the value of the theory, only to realize that, low and behold, it did absolutely nothing to weaken the faith! That is the real lesson in all of this, I think: from time to time Christians have come to believe that they ought to defend their faith from “progress”, and every time progress has continued unabated, and it turned out their faith had no need for such defense.”

“Then you think Christianity ought to embrace progress at last?”

“It really depends on what you mean by that. If you are asking whether or not Christianity ought to allow and encourage the pursuit of science and the expansion of knowledge, of course it should. If you are asking whether Christianity itself ought to change with the times, then my answer is very much no. The beauty of Christianity is that it has no need to change. It has no need to persecute scientists or philosophers because it stands in no danger from them. The truly interesting thing about the history of science is that it is continually disproving itself; one theory comes along and seems almost perfect, but then it is replaced by a new, even greater theory, sometimes simpler, sometimes more complex. Science is a serpent continually eating its own tail, but no matter how grand its theories grow, they have never said a word about Christianity. So much has come and gone in two thousand years—one really would expect that a book like the Bible would have become irrelevant. It simply hasn’t.”

“That is a very hopeful attitude,” the skeptic said hesitantly. “But it misses the reality of history.”

“And what reality is that?”

“The reality in which Christians have never stopped persecuting scientists!”

“Oh... so an alternate reality, then?”

“What? Of course not! Just look at this past century, where Christians have fought adamantly to destroy the theory of evolution!”

“Yes, of course,” the Christian said, nodding. “Evolution is the great modern example, and it does prove difficult, doesn’t it?”

“Hardly! The only things Christians hate more than evolution are evolutionists!”

“Hate is a very strong word,” the Christian offered, “but your point is well-taken. It could hardly be argued that Christians have embraced the theory of evolution, but, aside from some minor incidents, their opposition could hardly be considered contribution. Is science really so weak that it cannot bear scrutiny? Has the theory really suffered so terribly because of Christianity?”

“But the scrutiny is not based on evidence? It’s based on ideology! That makes all the difference!”

“As much as I think your very premise is wrong—Christians have argued time and again based on evidence—couldn’t the same accusation be made in reverse? This is the strange phenomenon of our modern times—and the reason one must absolutely stop talking about the persecution of science by the church: science has, in this age, become the source of persecution rather than the subject.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the skeptic defensively.

“I mean that it is the church that is being attacked today, not science. Galileo, for all that is said about his row with the church, considered himself a Christian, as did the majority of European scientists up until very recently. He may have run afoul of the church, but he never would have considered himself an opponent of it—even after his “persecution” he never stopped being a Christian. Most scientific training throughout the middle ages took place in universities founded by the church. Newton and Pascal would be considered religious extremists today. Things have quite obviously changed. The reason it seems that Christians attack evolution is that they feel forced to react to the attack from evolution. I still hold that we have nothing to fear from any such theory, but it is difficult to convince others to simply accept such persecution.”

“You would really call it persecution, just because science has discovered something that opposes the Bible?”

“Not because it opposes the Bible, no. Evolution is different, not because it stands as a threat to Christianity, but because many of its proponents see it as a tool that might be used to destroy religion, and the scientific method is forsaken in lieu of bitterness. The subject of the persecution really has been reversed—though I would hardly begin to complain about it, as I think the truth will inevitably win out. I can only hope that Christians today will soon come to realize that, as always, the foundation of their faith is strong enough to weather any storm. We need not stand in the way of science, but we need not be swept away by it, either. One of the beautiful things about Christianity it has remained solid and steadfast while the thoughts and opinions of the world ebb and flow like the tide. Science may appear to run afoul of our beliefs from time to time, but that is only the product of fallible minds stumbling over themselves trying to obtain a firm grasp on the complexities of the universe. So they observe and theorize and retheorize, hoping that their ideas will have some lasting value. The ideas of the Christian, however, have remained true and consistent far longer than any scientific theory. We need only stand firm and wait for science to float back to the truth.”