Tag Archives: Science

Quick comment: Metaphor and religious language

Metaphor and Religious Language by Janet Martin Soskice

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This work argues that metaphor is not a simple ‘pretty’ way of saying something that could be communicated with straightforward words, but it its own legitimate and necessary way of explanation. Metaphoric statements, at their best, say things that cannot be said in other ways. They also create opportunities for new learning, reflection, and avenues of enquiry.

Extending this, Soskice argues that both science and theology are – fittingly and necessarily – fields in which metaphor plays a major part. Her argument concludes that a realist position is entirely consistent with use of metaphor, in both science and theology. It’s fine, and actually productive, to speak of electrical ‘current’ or of the divine gift of ‘living water.’ This is not a naive realism, but critical realism (I don’t think Soskice used this actual term, but I believe its current use agrees with her argument). In this, the users of metaphor – and use is always of within a community – are able to ‘really refer’ to something, even without knowing all there is about that topic. Even transcendent realities can be, in part and approximately, apprehended (be they electrons, or God).

One matter not possible to be raised in this work, but I think related, is the possibility of historical knowledge. Looking at the science-theology parallels is wonderfully important. Soskice frequently mentions matters of religious experience as a part-parallel to scientific experiment. In this line of thought, metaphor and theory is always open to revision, at least in theory. That’s fair, to an extent, but opens up theology to too simple a comparison with science, and suggests to me that theological doctrines are as likely to change as scientific ones. Think, for example, of the disposal of the idea of phlogiston after Priestly’s discovery of oxygen: the old theory was dumped.

I think a difference between science and (Christian) theology is the historical givenness of events, especially the ministry of Jesus Christ. Knowledge of this history has everything to add to the knowledge claims of Christianity.

This is not to say Soskise should have covered this topic! She has done an amazing job in her survey of metaphor theory, as well as philosophies of metaphor use in science and theology. And all in fewer than 200 pages! What I do mean to say is that philosophies of historical knowledge will affect some of Soskice’s conclusions about the tentativeness and modifiability of religious statements. If Jesus is alive, then some religious models and metaphors are more solid and unchangeable than any scientific model.

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Christian thinking

There is no free thought, there are no free-thinkers.

The description “free thinking” is often used to praise those who are up-to-date, those who exalt reason as the hope for humanity. “Free thinkers” criticise others for having limits, but these critics simply do not understand their own boundaries.

Because everyone and every thinker has limits, boundaries they refuse to cross.

Here’s an example. Leonard Susskind wrote The Black Hole War about an amiable disagreement between physicists as they tried to figure out black holes. Susskind says this about Stephen Hawking:

Hawking’s logic was so clear … The reasoning was persuasive, but the conclusion was absurd. (p.212)

Susskind refused to accept the argument, even when he could not identify the precise problem. There was a limit to Susskind’s reasoning. His limit was right, and it turns out Hawking was wrong in this case. Without the limit, physics would be worse off, knowing less about black holes.

Limits to our thinking exist for everyone. So Christians should consider what our limits are – they’re much more important that black holes. Romans 3 is a great place to learn, because some opponents to the gospel argue themselves over the limit. They go too far, way too far, and into danger. They suggest God is a liar, or that he is unrighteous, or that he is not judge of the world.

What if some were unfaithful? Does their faithlessness nullify the faithfulness of God? By no means! Let God be true though every one were a liar (Romans 3:3-4).

But if our unrighteousness serves to show the righteousness of God, what shall we say? That God is unrighteous to inflict wrath on us? (I speak in a human way.) By no means! For then how could God judge the world? (Romans 3:5-6).

Is God a liar, or unrighteous? Will God not bother to judge? Paul says: Your conclusion is absurd. Never! Don’t go near that, do not even think it. The ‘human way’ of thinking is a sad perversion of real thought.

Christian thought will never conclude wrong or evil about God. If our thinking does conclude that God is ‘wrong’ in any way, it’s a guarantee that our thinking is way off.

Review: A Reformed Approach to Science and Scripture

A Reformed Approach to Science and ScriptureA Reformed Approach to Science and Scripture by Keith A. Mathison
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

A good thing about buying a book that really is a book is that you get a sense of what kind of book it wants to be. A 600 page treatment is a different beast from an 80 page piece – neither is necessarily better, but the aims will differ.

With an ebook, this is harder. And, perhaps, easier to be disappointed. ‘I thought this was going to be in-depth, but it’s only a brief guide.’ Or, ‘I just wanted something simple, not the history of the universe.’

So let’s explain the intangibles of this book. A Reformed Approach to Science and Scripture is a big title, huge. Science! Scripture! Reformed! Wow. Yet it’s not broad, deep, and exhaustive. It is a short work, so does not aim to cover all things.

Even more important, it’s not even really trying to be a reformed introduction to the philosophy of science. (Which I thought it might be – my mistake.) Instead, it is an expansion on some comments made by R.C. Sproul. At a conference, Sproul was answering the question, ‘How old is the universe?’

Sproul’s answer is wonderful. He did not merely indicate young or old, but in a few sentences touched on science, Christianity, and the relation between them.

The answer is quoted in full (tidied up a little for publication purposes). Sproul notes some of the issues:
* The Bible does not state how old the earth is, but some hints suggest it’s young
* Science has plenty to say that is relevant: expanding universe, astronomical dating, etc
* All truth is God’s truth, scripture and nature
* God’s revelation in scripture is infallible as also God’s revelation in nature is infallible
* We know times when natural revelation has corrected the church’s understanding of special revelation
* Nonetheless, that which is definitively taught in the Bible is never overthrown by science
* That is, scientists can be wrong, theologians can be wrong, and we privilege neither
* In conclusion: ‘I don’t know how old the earth is.’

This book by Mathison expands on these points. It has some theological points (eg, Augustine, Aquinas). It has some history (eg, Calvin and Luther on the geocentrism). It does not have much science or philosophy of science.

The crux of the book – and of Sproul’s answer – is the double infallibility of God’s double revelation, special and natural. This is, I think, both the strength and the weakness of the book’s argument.

It is strong, because it highlights the unity of all truth in God. Let God be true, though all men be liars (Romans 3:4). The saying catches it nicely: all truth is God’s truth.

Yet there are problems with the book’s argument. I think these are in the theological terminology used, as well as it’s application in the book. Imprecision is introduced: it does no real damage to this book’s argument, because it has a narrow focus. But such imprecision is problematic if it flows through the (huge) scope of science-theology understanding.

The problem: Mathison persists in speaking of natural revelation, when I think he would do better to speak of truth.

In speaking of natural revelation, Mathison has in mind the knowledge of God accessible to all humans through creation. As Romans 1:19-21 indicates, this knowledge is about God, and it makes us without excuse, because natural revelation cannot save. He helpfully quotes and alludes to Romans 1.

But the book then slides from this knowledge about God to science, without any reason put forward for the connection. Yet it is not evident that knowing more about the planets’ arrangement adds anything to natural revelation. We know more truth, certainly, but no more about God.

In other words, Mathison makes no convincing argument that the theological category of natural revelation also applies to science.

This imprecision has other effects. I note just one – the use of infallible.

Mathison return more than once to a group of seminarians asked two questions by Sproul.

“How many of you believe that God’s revelation in Scripture is infallible?” They all raised their hands. I then asked, “And how many of you believe that God’s revelation in nature is infallible?” No one raised his hand. It’s the same God giving the revelation.

Two helpful and provocative questions to put! Natural revelation is, indeed, infallible – it does not fail but achieves its purpose. The purposes of natural revelation succeed: people of faith praise the Lord (Psalm 19:1), and rebels against God find they have no excuse (Romans 1:20).

Infallibility is a term of theology, and relates to God’s purposes in his revelation. But Mathison, having assumed a tight link between natural revelation and science, has thereby partly imported infallibility into science, where it does not belong.

Now, that’s a long discussion about being precise in terminology. So let me emphasise this: I think this work well worth reading. Have a read, think well, and thank God that all truth is his.

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Review: A Short History of Nearly Everything

A Short History Of Nearly EverythingA Short History Of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Bill Bryson’s affable style can work for more than travel – science, it turns out, is just as whimsical and revealing as any other human activity.

When I first heard of A Short History of Nearly Everything I did not know it was about science. At a guess, I thought that it would be about the broad sweep of human history: empires and cultures and languages. Wrong!

Instead, it includes a history of science and current thinking on plenty of topics. The solar system and the universe, the weird world of the sub-atomic, continents that move around on an earth filled with hot liquid metal, dinosaurs and their bony evidence, the life of cells, the history of hominids, and much more (sorry, no steak knives).

In short, it a great example of popular level big history.

Bryson introduces this book as written by a science noob. Maybe that was true, but he hides it well with impressive chapters covering the whole sweep of many complex arguments. And, when possible, he tells us the fun details that – I believe – should be more central to all science education.

Some stories are old. I think people might be more interested in all the stuff Isaac Newton did if we mention the experiment of shoving a leather-working needle in his eye socket and jiggling it around to see what would happen (page 41).

Some stories are more modern. Did you know, for example, that the man who developed leaded petrol (thus spawning a very profitable industry who lied through their teeth about the ‘non’ damage of lead toxicity) also developed chlorofluorocarbons? Thomas Midgley, therefore, not only poisoned the air and earth, but also burnt holes in the ozone layer with a greenhouse gas 10,000 times more efficient than carbon dioxide. (See chapter 10.)

Quite often the tales reveal a lot about the paradox of humanity. Take the story of a US songbird, Bachman’s Warbler.

…by the 1930s the warbler vanished altogether and went unseen for many years. Then, in 1939, by happy coincidence two separate birding enthusiasts, in widely separated locations, came across lone survivors just two days apart. They both shot the birds.

As a vaguely science-interested guy, I only found a couple of slightly questionable parts to the book. I reckon that’s an acceptably low number of potential ‘errors’ for such a wide-ranging work, although I know my science knowledge is very limited. (But I was disappointed that Bryson seems to have gone for mythology of the famous but misrepresented debate between T. Huxley and Bishop Wilberforce.)

But some other reflections are in order. Particularly this: why is this book history, not science?

‘History’ makes the whole of physical reality a story, it seems to me, rather than mere events. Bryson never imposes a meaning on anything, he’s much too genial to force worldviews on people. But he has chosen a style that inherently assumes a story going somewhere – and this even when when (correctly) identifying that genetic modification and evolution as non-directional.

The Bible, of course, also has a history of everything: an extremely short history of everything, in one verse. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1).

I don’t believe Bryson’s book has any conflict with God’s book, in this regard. It’s just that God’s summary is even more concise. And God goes on to explain the story itself: the reason and purpose of creation, the why and who questions, and the answer to all questions in Jesus Christ. Jesus is the one who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:23).

It’s great to enjoy knowing some of ‘the all’. It’s essential to know Jesus, who is the one who ‘fills the all’ with life purpose and certainty.



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Science causes natural theology

In the mid seventeenth century, Thomas Hobbes identified that science does not undermine theology. Rather, science tends towards (problematic) natural theology.

Curiosity, or love of the knowledge of causes, draws a man from consultation of the effect, to seek the cause; and again, the cause of that cause; till of necessity he must come to this thought at last, that there is some cause, whereof there is no former cause, but is eternall; which is it men call God. So that it is impossible to make any profound enquiry into naturall causes, without being enclined thereby to believe there is one God Eternall; though they cannot have any Idea of him in their mind, answerable to his nature.

From Leviathon, Chapter XI.


Magical science

At end of year and Christmas there are the usual articles to show the silliness of Christianity, the imaginary existence of Jesus, and all other predictable targets. They’re always paper thin arguments, but are gobbled down as readily as the 500th chocolate-covered yuletide treat.

(For example, see this puff piece from The Conversation, but don’t miss the riposte.)

Today I want to point out one such article, one that also wonderfully illustrates one of the common modern scientific follies.

What is magical thinking? (and its picture) pretends to be about Santa Claus. Magical thinking is the “tendency to infer causation between seemingly related stimuli”, and may be seen when people “happily accept impossible explanations”. One such impossible explanation: Santa.

Magical thinking is the “tendency to infer causation between seemingly related stimuli”, and may be seen when people “happily accept impossible explanations”

Being familiar with the way of things, I knew this piece would really be about the non-existence of God. Hiding behind a convenient quotation (“It wasn’t me!”), the author needles “mainstream religion” for “hypocrisy” – calling believers in the Bible hypocrites for bagging the silliness of Scientology.

By inference – what a clever way to write, perfect deniability! – Bible belief is associated with a refusal to grow up, denial as a coping mechanism, and seeing the world as we want it to be.

The trouble is, the author herself, in the guise of science, demonstrates one of the most common types of magical thinking. There’s an increase number of people using untestable evolutionary-psychology claims. It’s pseudo-science, because it’s beyond testing. It’s a just so story – like ‘how the kookaburra got its laugh’ – but the author would be offended if you pointed out that she’s just propagating a myth.

Here’s the relevant paragraph:

From an evolutionary point of view you can see how important making these links have been to our survival. Being able to figure out what precedes what, and develop some method of prediction, can allow us to develop some control over our environment.

How does one test this? It’s magical science, an explanation after the facts. It assumes as true both cause (magical thinking) and effect (its evolutionary sense).

There’s nothing wrong with telling myths, when told honestly. There’s something seriously wrong with telling a myth and pretending it is science: that’s just a power-play and a lie.

So beware of scientists, and particularly psychological scientists, offering magical explanations for the world. It’s happening more and more frequently.

If the Jesus of Christmas is to be explained away it must be on the right terms: history and theology. As for me, I’ve well-convinced of the real life and ministry of the real Jesus, and of the real truth that the living Lord Jesus rules all things.



Science of the gaps

There’s a long-standing criticism of Christians that goes like this: whenever there’s something humans can’t explain, you say ‘See! That’s God at work’.

And fair enough too. What a silly argument. How does ignorance on the part of Person Y (me!) provide evidence for the existence of Person X (God)? All it proves is that there’s a hole in human knowledge – and that is not breaking news.

Honestly, though, I have only heard this argument for God a couple of times. The places it has come up have been informal chats among church folk. It’s is usually followed by an uneasy polite silence as everyone else considers how to change the subject.

Mind the gapIn contrast, I hear essentially the same argument more frequently against God.

Like this: there are holes in scientific knowledge, but we know that science has capacity to provide the answers. It’s science of the gaps. There’s a strong faith that the ‘scientific method’ is the single method capable of finding truth and certainty.

In my experience, the fields in which this mantra tends to appear are: ethics and society; the nature of mind, consciousness and personhood; questions of ultimate reality and purpose.

The weaknesses of Science of the gaps are many. Here are three:

  • Lack of knowledge is empirical evidence that science doesn’t (yet) know everything. It’s against evidence to counter by saying, ‘But science can know everything.’
  • It doe not allow for complementary true explanations. When a family wants to know why a car accident happened, the laws of physics don’t help. Yes, physics gives a true picture of momentum, force, etc. But the family wants to know about drunk drivers, blinding sun or illegal mobile phone use.
  • It’s impossible to prove the basic assumption. We only prove that science can know all things after science knows all things. In other words, the starting assumption is itself non-scientific.

In science (as in Christianity) it pays to ‘Mind the gap’.



Genetics & ethics

Alcohol dehydrogenase

This beautiful picture represents the three-dimensional structure of a human enzyme, alcohol dehydrogenase.

There are a few types of this class of enzyme. And their biochemistry is way beyond me. In simple terms, they all do something in the body with chemicals which include an alcohol group (-OH).

As such, this enzyme becomes quite busy when we drink beer, wine or spirits. Without this enzyme, drinking alcohol would likely be impossible.

As with all proteins, alcohol dehydrogenase is formed in the body from the information in DNA – there is a link between our genes and the amount/types of alcohol dehydrogenase produced.

There is variation in the activity of alcohol in different human populations. Some people have more activity, some have less. It seems that these differences link to age, sex, and race.

On that basis, here’s my Dorothy Dix question: if I have a different level of active alcohol dehydrogenase, does that justify me getting drunk? After all, ‘it’s genetic’!

Of course not! The level of enzyme in my body does not justify anti-social behaviour. The genetic subtypes present in my DNA do not excuse loss of self-control. If I get beaten up by a drunk, I won’t buy the excuse, ‘Sorry mister, I have low levels of class 1 alcohol dehydrogenase.’

In short, genetics does not prescribe ethics.

Except when we’re asked about sexual ethics, it seems. There are two main versions. The heterosexual: “You can’t try to stop me sleeping with other women – thought I’m married, it’s natural to have the urge to procreate.” The homosexual: “A high proportion of scientists say this is normal and natural.”

These arguments are examples of genetics used (badly) to justify ethics. They are ethical conclusions seeking a veneer of scientific kudos.

I think we need put a stop to the dodgy use of genetic-ethical arguments. If someone tries to justify adultery and all its associated lies, perhaps this is what we should say: “It’s not your genes, it’s what you want. Tell us why we should so highly value your desires.”



Science & the gospel, vi

This series is to consider how faith in Christ transforms our view of science.

I’m using Two Ways To Live (TWTL) to shape the series: six TWTL points – six posts on science. Each point has an image in addition to short summary statements.

The sixth and final part of TWTL is:

The two ways to live

A. Our way:
Reject the ruler-God
Try to run life our own way
B. God’s new way:
Submit to Jesus as our ruler
Rely on Jesus’ death and resurrection
Condemned by God
Facing death and judgement
Forgiven by God
Given eternal life


Which of these represents the way you want to live? 

The gospel outline of Two Ways to Live finishes with a question. This is as it should be, for the gospel is a call and an invitation. The gospel declares God’s work. The declaration is serious, and rightly includes fearful aspects, but it is also loving. God desires to give life to sinners stuck on the path of death (Ezekiel 18:32).

To put this slightly differently, the gospel is the king’s authority proclaimed, but the king is not merely conservative. A conservative kingship faces rebellion by re-asserting power and retreating to a prior situation (‘the good old days’ when everything was rosy). Such a king does not aim for a new kingdom, but restoration of the old kingdom.

God, in contrast, does something new. God confronts sinners with their evil, demonstrates his justice, then invites sinners into his own family. God could simply wipe away all evil – punishment without forgiveness. Instead, through the cross and resurrection, God completes justice with forgiveness. The Bible does not end with a second Garden of Eden, but with a new heavens and earth and heavenly Jerusalem where righteousness dwells and countless multitudes rejoice eternally.

In short, the gospel calls for decision (trust Jesus) and the gospel effects change (you are forgiven & freed to serve).

Science cannot do this. Science describes, science does not prescribe. Science does not care about what to do next.

This gives a very important warning for the use of science. Scientific understanding of the world is never an ethical argument. Science has wonderful insight into what is. This does not, however, translate into what ought to be. Between is and ought there lies the changes we desire and the decisions we require.

In a simple example, consider research into infectious diseases. There are so many: some are well-known (AIDS, malaria, hepatitis, measles); some I can only name because I searched the internet (paragoniamiasis, anyone?). In light of limited research budgets, and a finite supply of skilled researchers, which diseases should have priority? Science cannot tell us – other criteria must come into play.

Science can tell us which infective agents are responsible for the diseases, or that the agent is unknown. Science can tell us which people groups are most affected by infection, and compare the population sizes of those affected directly and indirectly. Science can even estimate the financial burden of the disease (OK, I’m being generous in calling economics a science!). But science cannot tell us that ebola is more worthy than measles for grant funding.

For a more pointed example, think of research into sex. Science can note and seek to explain the reproductive benefits of monogamy in birds. It can also note the promiscuity of bonobos. But it’s not a scientific argument to follow up either set of observation with, ‘Therefore, humans should do the same.’ If you come across an argument like this – usually in favour of promiscuity or homosexuality, not monogamy – you know that the ethical decision was made well before any science came into view.

When people argue about environmental science, it is usually the case that the science is irrelevant. At the extreme ends of the spectrum of views, proponents cherry pick the most relevant factoids to support their case. The ‘science’ they use convinces no one, because the decisions made were not based on science.

‘What do we do next?’ is a good question. It looks for change and to make a good decision. The answer can be informed by good science, but should be understood as a decision made before the God who will one day call us to account.

It is no argument to say, ‘I was born this way – let me be.’ Or to say, ‘Environmental science insists on a target for atmospheric CO2.’ Or to say, ‘We should do the genetic manipulation because we can do the manipulation.’

It is an argument to say, ‘Created, fallen and redeemed from judgement, we are to practice repentance and faith in self identity/environmental care/experimental design. The gospel tells us so.’

Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him
John 3:36

Science & the gospel, v

This series is to consider how faith in Christ transforms our view of science.

I’m using Two Ways To Live (TWTL) to shape the series: six TWTL points – six posts on science. Each point has an image in addition to short summary statements.

The fifth part of TWTL is:


God raised Jesus to life again as ruler of the world.

Jesus has conquered death, now gives new life, and will return to judge.

Well, where does that leave us?


Jesus’ death was an astounding sacrifice. It is unique in all history. Yet the uniqueness of Jesus’ death is not in its death, for death afflicts all people. Historically, many others also have died unjustly, bravely, with love for friend and foe alike. The uniqueness of Jesus’ death is not historical, it is theological – that God was active through the cross. (God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their sin against them, 2 Corinthians 5:19).

Jesus’ resurrection, on the other hand, is unique historically and theologically. No one else – yet – has been given new life by God after death, never to die again (that’s historically unique). And no one else can be the firstborn from the dead, appointed as judge and ruler (theological uniqueness).

This history touches a Christian view of science.

Christians know Jesus is alive, not dead. The tomb is empty because tombs are for corpses. Jesus is fully alive – if he’s not alive, Christians are wasting our time and pitiable (1 Corinthians 15:14-20). Amongst other things, the resurrection of Jesus was an event of the natural world. A corpse, duly readied for entombment and entering the phase of putrefaction, returned to life. The moment of resurrection was potentially observable. There were witnesses who saw Jesus in his post-resurrection life.

For science, this means there are natural events beyond the investigation of science.

Please don’t summarise that statement as ‘miracles are beyond science’, for that’s not my claim. There are wonders of the Bible given an explanation simultaneously natural/scientific and theological. Notably, God sending the strong east wind to clear a path though the Red Sea (Exodus 14). Presumably a team of meteorologists and hydrologists in the right place could have determined that the dry water-course was caused by hot easterly wind. It was a miracle in the natural world, and open to science. It’s no big deal that God can use nature – he made it! My point here is simply that some truly ‘natural’ events are impenetrable to science. Perhaps the resurrection is the only example, who knows?

In an earlier post I made the point that science cannot explain everything. There are matters outside of the realm of science (I mentioned justice, both human and divine). Now I am saying more, that there are matters inside the realm of science that science cannot explain. I reach this conclusion by the gospel, specifically the gospel-proclaimed resurrection of Jesus.

This leads to another gospel-driven reflection on science: history is bigger than science. This may sound  unconnected, but that’s not so. For just as science cannot tell us about Jesus’ resurrection, history can and does tell us. The empty tomb of Easter is a message with witnesses, not an experiment with technicians. It is possible to test the message of Jesus as we test any claim: we ask historical questions. (Who said this? Do we have a good record of their claims? What did they mean? What is their agenda? What corroborating evidence is there? etc.)

(Let me throw in a speculative, but related, idea: I think that science may be best seen as a subset of history. Experimental observations are what happened (‘the pressure was 745 mmHg’). Scientists interpret the data to make sense of what happened. Theoretical scientists, I think, work hard on teasing out the implications of the history of ideas. Historians and scientists both make predictions of the future, and do so on the basis of the past.)

Back to the main point … If history is bigger then science, and the gospel tells us this, I expect the biggest challenges to Christian faith to be from historians rather than scientists. When science attacks Christianity it gets more attention, I believe, but we should listen more closely to historians.

The theology of the resurrection also touches science.

In the resurrection, Jesus is declared to be in complete dominion and rule (Acts 17:30-31). At creation, dominion was granted to people. After years of sin’s rule, dominion was declared to reside in The Person – Jesus Christ is the true man who rules. Humanity is restored to its place in God’s order, in the person of Jesus. All authority is his, meaning that all rule in this world is a gift of Jesus. All who exercise any kind of rule are answerable to Jesus for their use of authority.

What is this to do with science? To state the obvious – as I love to do – the ruler is a person. Dominion is personal, not impersonal. Thus, science is not dominion.

We frequently use language that suggests otherwise. ‘Technology tames the wilderness.’ ‘Bio-medical science defeats disease.’ Effectively we hear the message, ‘Science rules the world.’ This is not true. On the largest scale, Jesus rules the world. In local situations, people exercise dominion. We must never be compliant with claims that science means we must … For science never claims anything, people do. The resurrection of Jesus allows us to step back from such claims and enquire who really is ruling.

I’ve written plenty already on the resurrection and science. And could say more. When I started the series, this was the one point where I wondered if I had anything to say! It appears I had nothing to fear about content. My remaining fear is that this longer post lacks clarity. Please help me in this – I love any feedback, comments or questions. Jump right in to the comments section below.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead
1 Peter 1:3