[Part 2 in a multi-part series on Science & Religion from an LDS perspective. Previous entries in the series: Part 1]
For the next step in analyzing the relationship between science and religion, let’s look at how the search for truth is accomplished in both. To do this, we need first to define a word that gets thrown around a lot in science vs. religion discussions:
“Theory”
A
theory is an explanation that matches current evidence. And—this is important--is subject to change
at any time, given new evidence.
Any (honest) scientist will admit that science has complete answers for very little in regard to humankind and the universe. Rather than full “explanations” there are what we can call
“explanation schemas” or
“explanation frameworks” which combine the (often small) quantity of known facts with fairly educated guesses as to how the rest might come together based on what we know already.
That theoretical framework is NOT set in stone, but rather constantly adjusted as new discoveries are made. Often changes to theories are small, but sometimes big discoveries can result in dramatic changes to how that explanation schema is architected.
But—here’s the point—just the fact that changes are made to this schema over time does not fundamentally
invalidate it. Part of the scientific process is hypothesizing a theory, gathering the evidence, and then adjusting (or discarding) the theory as needed.
A good parable to how this works, courtesy of
“Fishing For Chelsea”:
Say you got a ticket to a baseball game, but you got a seat where you could only see the pitcher and the batter. You couldn’t see the umpire, the catcher, the other fielders, or even the other bases or the scoreboard. This is a really terrible seat!
But as you watch the game, you start to notice patterns. This is like a scientific theory. You figure out that when the hitter hits the ball, he takes off running. You figure out that there must be a catcher, since the ball keeps being thrown back to the pitcher. And after a few games (you got a season pass in this awful seat), you start to figure out more technicalities, like balls and strikes. You start feeling really confident in your theory. Every time the ball is thrown, it fits into your theory of baseball.
But then one time when you’re watching the ball, there are three strikes and the runner takes off towards first base. What?! That doesn’t fit into your theory at all. So you modify your theory. You add the “third strike drop” rule that accounts for when the catcher drops the ball on a third strike, then the hitter gets to run to the bases. Now your theory works again.
But do you really understand what it is to watch baseball? Do you really understand all the rules? I’m sure you don’t. But from your terrible seat and limited perspective, you’ve done a lot to figure out what’s happening.
In the early days of astronomy through Aristotle and Ptolemy, the established theory was that the earth was the center of the universe, and that the sun, moon and stars all revolved around it. This theory explained much of the existing evidence and observation…but not
all of it. When the contrary evidence became too powerful to be ignored, the theory changed.
Continuing on to the days of Copernicus, the new theory of the solar system became: the sun was the center of the universe and the earth and other planets revolved around it in perfectly circular orbits. Again, this matched much of the existing evidence, but not all of it. When the contrary evidence became too powerful to be ignored, the theory changed again.
In the 17th century, primarily through the work of Johannes Kepler, the connection was made that orbits of the Earth and planets were ellipses instead of pure circles. While far from the final change to the scientific theories regarding the solar system, this was a major discovery that made virtually all of the existing data and observations to that point ‘magically’ come into clarity all at once.
A study of the history of astronomy through the centuries shows any number of changes—many major--to the theories regarding the earth, the solar system, and the entire universe. While new theories will frequently invalidate older theories, the fact that older theories were eventually discarded does not invalidate
science itself. In fact, replacing older theories with new theories when more knowledge is gained *IS* science.
Here’s the rub, though: religion is EXACTLY the same way.
Religion, like science, provides its own ‘explanation-schema’ which places the current quantity of knowledge regarding ‘things of the spirit’ in a framework by which (often temporary and incomplete) conclusions can be made. Then—here’s the point—it’s
adjusted as new knowledge is obtained, even to the extent (as with the ‘earth-as-the-center-of-universe’ theory) of being discarded entirely in lieu of new theories.
An example of this is the basic concept of “Heaven” and “Hell”, a religious standard that has held force in virtually all Christian religions throughout history. In the 19th century, through Doctrine & Covenants 88, the LDS perspective on the “Heaven/Hell” paradigm changed to a more fuller (and complex) understanding through the revealed “Three Kingdoms (+ Outer Darkness)” doctrine.
Note that this new doctrine does not actually
reject or
invalidate the original concept of heaven and hell—only expands upon what was originally a simple understanding with additional details. Like mankind’s knowledge of astronomy, we started with the basic, simplistic explanation, and then added more complexities to it as they were revealed.
Is there still room for additional knowledge and understanding? Of course: we know very little about how many levels are within each kingdom, how you define a ‘level’ within that context anyway, whether we have contact with those in other kingdoms (or different levels within each kingdom), and any number of questions we can create concerning the details.
Whether or not these questions can or cannot be answered with existing scriptures (or experimentation in the laboratory), we still have a framework by which knowledge about the afterlife can be organized and added (“line by line, precept by precept…”).
Here’s the irony: each group (speaking generally about the committed adherents to both science and religion) will openly admit
amongst themselves that their scope of knowledge is limited and incomplete.
When they face-off with each other, though—look out! Suddenly ALL admissions of limited and incomplete knowledge fly out the window. Both science and religion (when confronting the other) suddenly become complete and flawless sources of human knowledge about ALL things that the other could not possibly hope to emulate. (As with politics, any honest admission of weakness or limitation on either side becomes ammunition for the other.)
No wonder “science vs. religion” appears to be in conflict, when the most extreme followers on both sides seem to make it their mission to CAUSE conflict with the other side!
Just as one can question whether you must accept ALL governmental policies of the Democrats, or ALL the policies of the Republicans (but certainly never parts of one and parts of the other), we must question whether the conflict between science and religion is genuinely true, or largely just overblown rhetoric. *Must* one choose either one side or the other?
Part of the process of reconciling the two is, first, admitting that neither side knows all things, or even
most things. Second, is understanding that both science and religion are constantly in a state of flux as new knowledge is added, and existing theories are tweaked. Third, is entertaining the possibility that one side just
might have something to offer the other in helping to fill in their gaps of human knowledge.
Next: The problem of 'speculation' and bias