"Tis a pity, they cut the tree to get to the fruit"
Friday, 3 Jan 2025, 08:26
Visible to anyone in the world
Edited by Jim McCrory, Friday, 3 Jan 2025, 09:19
Why is there something rather than
nothing?
Why are we further away from abiogenesis
than ever before?
Why is our planet so beautiful and
fit for habitation?
Why would Altruism exist in an evolutionary
world?
How come numbers work?
How come we have an anthropic
planet?
Why are we moved by a sunset,
wonderful music and seeing others happy?
Image generated with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot
The
Spirit of Exclusion: Why Science Without God Falls Short
Imagine
a painter meticulously crafting a masterpiece. Each stroke tells a story, and
the interplay of colours reveals purpose and meaning. Now imagine someone
stepping into the gallery, admiring the painting, but insisting it came about
by accident. They marvel at the complexity of the brushstrokes, hypothesize
about the physics of paint application, and yet refuse to acknowledge the
artist. This, it seems, is where much of modern science finds itself—standing
in awe of the universe while denying the existence of the painter behind it.
Science,
at its best, is a glorious endeavour. It’s a tool that has helped humanity
uncover the laws of nature, cure diseases, and explore the farthest reaches of
space. But there’s a troubling trend: a spirit of exclusion where, as long as
God is left out, any explanation will suffice. It’s as though science, once
humble and curious, has decided that it can go it alone, refusing even to
consider the idea of a Creator.
The
Blindfold of Methodological Naturalism
Science
today often operates like a detective investigating a crime scene but refusing
to consider one crucial suspect. Methodological naturalism—the principle that
science seeks natural causes—has become not just a tool but a rigid ideology.
It’s like building a house with only a hammer, refusing to acknowledge that
other tools might be necessary.
This
approach has produced remarkable results, but it’s also left science boxed in,
unable to answer life’s deepest questions. Why does the universe exist at all?
Why is it so finely tuned for life? Why do we, mere collections of atoms, yearn
for meaning? These questions lie outside the reach of a microscope or
telescope, yet they are the ones that matter most.
The
Limits of Science
To
be clear, science is brilliant at what it does. It can explain the mechanics of
how things work—how stars form, how DNA replicates, how water boils. But it
stumbles when asked to explain why things exist in the first place. It’s like
being able to describe the ingredients of a cake without understanding why
someone baked it.
Take,
for example, the fine-tuning of the universe. Physicists have discovered that
the constants of nature—things like the strength of gravity or the charge of an
electron—are calibrated with such precision that even the tiniest deviation
would make life impossible. The odds are staggering, like flipping a coin and
landing on heads a trillion times in a row. Yet rather than consider the
possibility of design, some scientists propose the existence of countless other
universes—none of which we can observe—to explain this fine-tuning. It’s an
elegant-sounding idea, but isn’t it more like sweeping the evidence under the
rug than solving the mystery?
The
Bias Against Design
There’s
a deeper issue here: a bias against design. Some scientists, like Richard
Lewontin, have openly admitted that their commitment to materialism drives them
to exclude God, regardless of where the evidence might lead. This bias is like
a jury deciding the verdict before the trial even begins. It’s not science—it’s
ideology masquerading as science.
This
bias also leads to absurdities. Consider the origin of life. The complexity of
even the simplest cell is mind-boggling, filled with information-rich molecules
that resemble software code. Bill Gates once remarked that DNA is like a
computer program, only far more advanced than any software we’ve created. Yet
some scientists would rather believe that life emerged spontaneously from a
“primordial soup” than entertain the possibility of an intelligent designer.
If you have proof of God, why would you deny it?
At
its core, this exclusionary spirit reflects human pride. To admit the existence
of a Creator is to admit that we are not the ultimate authority—that we are
accountable to something greater than ourselves.
This
pride is dangerous. It blinds us to the evidence of design all around us and
leaves us searching for answers in all the wrong places. It’s like trying to
navigate a map without acknowledging the compass in your hand.
A
Symphony Without a Conductor
The
irony is that the very success of science points to something beyond itself.
The laws of nature are so orderly, so precise, that they resemble a symphony.
Yet a symphony without a conductor is unthinkable. The more we learn about the
universe, the more it seems to whisper of a Designer—a mind behind the
mathematics, a purpose behind the particles.
Even
Albert Einstein, no theist in the traditional sense, remarked, “The most
incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible.” Why
should a random, purposeless cosmos be so beautifully ordered? Why should the
human mind be capable of understanding it? These questions point beyond science
to something—or Someone—greater.
Science
Needs God
The
exclusion of God from science doesn’t make science more rational; it makes it
less so. It’s like trying to assemble a puzzle while deliberately leaving out
the central piece. Science without God becomes a house of cards, impressive but
precarious, unable to support the weight of life’s biggest questions.
The
universe, in all its vastness and complexity, is not a closed system. It is, as
the Bible says, a testament to God’s glory. “The heavens declare the glory of
God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1). Science, when
pursued humbly, can help us marvel at that glory. But when it refuses to
consider the Painter behind the masterpiece, it misses the point entirely.
It’s
time for science to take off its blindfold, to embrace not just the how but the
why, and to acknowledge that behind the symphony of creation stands a
Conductor. Only then will science truly fulfil its purpose: not just to
uncover facts but to point us toward truth.
"Tis a pity, they cut the tree to get to the fruit"
Why is there something rather than nothing?
Why are we further away from abiogenesis than ever before?
Why is our planet so beautiful and fit for habitation?
Why would Altruism exist in an evolutionary world?
How come numbers work?
How come we have an anthropic planet?
Why are we moved by a sunset, wonderful music and seeing others happy?
Image generated with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot
The Spirit of Exclusion: Why Science Without God Falls Short
Imagine a painter meticulously crafting a masterpiece. Each stroke tells a story, and the interplay of colours reveals purpose and meaning. Now imagine someone stepping into the gallery, admiring the painting, but insisting it came about by accident. They marvel at the complexity of the brushstrokes, hypothesize about the physics of paint application, and yet refuse to acknowledge the artist. This, it seems, is where much of modern science finds itself—standing in awe of the universe while denying the existence of the painter behind it.
Science, at its best, is a glorious endeavour. It’s a tool that has helped humanity uncover the laws of nature, cure diseases, and explore the farthest reaches of space. But there’s a troubling trend: a spirit of exclusion where, as long as God is left out, any explanation will suffice. It’s as though science, once humble and curious, has decided that it can go it alone, refusing even to consider the idea of a Creator.
The Blindfold of Methodological Naturalism
Science today often operates like a detective investigating a crime scene but refusing to consider one crucial suspect. Methodological naturalism—the principle that science seeks natural causes—has become not just a tool but a rigid ideology. It’s like building a house with only a hammer, refusing to acknowledge that other tools might be necessary.
This approach has produced remarkable results, but it’s also left science boxed in, unable to answer life’s deepest questions. Why does the universe exist at all? Why is it so finely tuned for life? Why do we, mere collections of atoms, yearn for meaning? These questions lie outside the reach of a microscope or telescope, yet they are the ones that matter most.
The Limits of Science
To be clear, science is brilliant at what it does. It can explain the mechanics of how things work—how stars form, how DNA replicates, how water boils. But it stumbles when asked to explain why things exist in the first place. It’s like being able to describe the ingredients of a cake without understanding why someone baked it.
Take, for example, the fine-tuning of the universe. Physicists have discovered that the constants of nature—things like the strength of gravity or the charge of an electron—are calibrated with such precision that even the tiniest deviation would make life impossible. The odds are staggering, like flipping a coin and landing on heads a trillion times in a row. Yet rather than consider the possibility of design, some scientists propose the existence of countless other universes—none of which we can observe—to explain this fine-tuning. It’s an elegant-sounding idea, but isn’t it more like sweeping the evidence under the rug than solving the mystery?
The Bias Against Design
There’s a deeper issue here: a bias against design. Some scientists, like Richard Lewontin, have openly admitted that their commitment to materialism drives them to exclude God, regardless of where the evidence might lead. This bias is like a jury deciding the verdict before the trial even begins. It’s not science—it’s ideology masquerading as science.
This bias also leads to absurdities. Consider the origin of life. The complexity of even the simplest cell is mind-boggling, filled with information-rich molecules that resemble software code. Bill Gates once remarked that DNA is like a computer program, only far more advanced than any software we’ve created. Yet some scientists would rather believe that life emerged spontaneously from a “primordial soup” than entertain the possibility of an intelligent designer.
If you have proof of God, why would you deny it?
At its core, this exclusionary spirit reflects human pride. To admit the existence of a Creator is to admit that we are not the ultimate authority—that we are accountable to something greater than ourselves.
This pride is dangerous. It blinds us to the evidence of design all around us and leaves us searching for answers in all the wrong places. It’s like trying to navigate a map without acknowledging the compass in your hand.
A Symphony Without a Conductor
The irony is that the very success of science points to something beyond itself. The laws of nature are so orderly, so precise, that they resemble a symphony. Yet a symphony without a conductor is unthinkable. The more we learn about the universe, the more it seems to whisper of a Designer—a mind behind the mathematics, a purpose behind the particles.
Even Albert Einstein, no theist in the traditional sense, remarked, “The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible.” Why should a random, purposeless cosmos be so beautifully ordered? Why should the human mind be capable of understanding it? These questions point beyond science to something—or Someone—greater.
Science Needs God
The exclusion of God from science doesn’t make science more rational; it makes it less so. It’s like trying to assemble a puzzle while deliberately leaving out the central piece. Science without God becomes a house of cards, impressive but precarious, unable to support the weight of life’s biggest questions.
The universe, in all its vastness and complexity, is not a closed system. It is, as the Bible says, a testament to God’s glory. “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1). Science, when pursued humbly, can help us marvel at that glory. But when it refuses to consider the Painter behind the masterpiece, it misses the point entirely.
It’s time for science to take off its blindfold, to embrace not just the how but the why, and to acknowledge that behind the symphony of creation stands a Conductor. Only then will science truly fulfil its purpose: not just to uncover facts but to point us toward truth.
But ask the animals, and they will instruct you;
ask the birds of the air, and they will tell you.
Or speak to the earth, and it will teach you;
let the fish of the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know
that the hand of the LORD has done this?
The life of every living thing is in His hand,
as well as the breath of all mankind.
Does not the ear test words
as the tongue tastes its food?
Wisdom is found with the elderly,
and understanding comes with long life.
Job 12:7-10 (BSB).