I have just returned from a remarkable evening at a small town in the Scottish Boarders called Biggar. The church there had arranged for an evening community talk and Q&A on science and faith, following the book Faith and Wisdom in Science. I have given about 40 such talks in the last 2 years, but this was by any measure a rather special one. the questions went on and on, as did the discussions over the book signing at the end.
It makes a fitting staging-post for reflection after 2 years since the book first came out in hardback, and at the point at which the paperback edition is published.
So I have updated the blogsite somewhat. There is now a special page for media resources (videos and podcasts). Another one gives links to the reviews of the book that are still emerging in popular, scientific and theological outlets.
Perhaps more usefully there is now a complete online list of the errata that crept into the first imprint and which I am swatting away as readers kindly point them out.
One question from Biggar got me reflecting deeply – a lady wanted to know the process, or processes by which I had come to write the book. What were my motivations, sources, hopes? It’s a while since I had tried to draw all those threads together, and I found it a very helpful exercise.
I think that the first reason was nothing to do with the ‘Faith and Science’ question at all. In fact, perhaps the happiest comment about the book was made to me last year by a colleague – ‘Tom, your book – is isn’t really a science and religion book at all, is it?’ Indeed it isn’t! It’s a science book – or especially an articulation of how science is at the heart of human culture, and has been there in its earlier forms for many hundreds of years. I realised that I also wanted to know what science was for. After all – I was going to spend a long time doing it throughout my life, and some idea of the purpose to aim at would be imp0rtant. But purpose is not a category that sits easily with the way science is talked about. That is where theology comes in – it is the one discipline still comfortable with the idea of purpose. I have said before that were one a believer or not, for that reason alone, theology becomes a resource for social teleology!
Then, of course, there was the public discourse of the ‘religion and science’ debate. Worthy in its own way, I found it increasingly boxed in, and consistently over-apologetic. The question, explicit or implicit, always seemed to be, ‘can you reconcile science with religion?’ This for me was never the best question, and assumed too much wrong ‘geometry’ of the relationship between the two. Very few people seemed to be asking the more fruitful question that leads from the issue of purpose – what does science do within the Kingdom of God, once conceived of as God’s gift? That became the central quest of Faith and Wisdom in Science.
Then, finally, there was the Wisdom literature of the Old Testament in general, and the Book of Job in particular. The notion that the tradition of Wisdom constitutes the tributary stream that became science is suggested strongly by the old name for my disciplines, Natural Philosophy – love of wisdom to do with natural things. But a close reading of Job convinced me. The wonderful ‘Lord’s Answer’ has to be the most profound nature poem of ancient literature. It had long fascinated me, and the idea of making an extensive study of Job as a whole as the centrepiece of a book became impossible to ignore. The ‘Nature Trail through Job’ became the central pillar of the book, it’s highest vantage point. Climbing up to it through an analysis of science as human story, and through creation stories in the Old Testament, it then provided the vision and the material to develop a ‘Theology of Science’ in consequence.
Purpose, science as a humanity, the theology of (not ‘and’) science, and the tradition of Wisdom. These became the motivations, sources and energies that turned into the book, and which I hope will become much beside as in the church we embrace science as God’s gift, and in society we learn to contemplate it as part of what it means for all of us to be human.