Why Study Religion and Science in College?

I fell in love with astronomy at the age of seven, sitting out in my backyard with my cousin. He came to my house many times when I was in elementary school, teaching me much of my information about the night sky. From the moment he taught me how to find Polaris, I knew that I wanted to become an astronomer.

Only, there was one issue: my faith.

I was confirmed in seventh grade, attending confirmation classes at church alongside life science class at my public middle school. I learned about the creation story on Sunday afternoons and learned the theory of evolution during the week. At that time, it seemed easy to reconcile the two. The confirmation teacher taught us how the theory of evolution and the creation narrative could go hand-in-hand, and my life science class highlighted the beauty of God’s creation.

It got harder, though, the farther along I got in my faith and in school. By the time I hit my sophomore year of public high school and took biology, the only way I could reconcile the two was by saying that evolution was just a theory, and the creation story was the truth.

On top of that, I seemed to be leaving astronomy. In the summer before ninth grade, I experienced a call to ministry while on my first mission trip. A week later, I was at the University of Virginia for a STEM summer camp. While there, I felt disconnected with the students around me. They all had plans to go into science, yet I wanted to go into ministry. For the first three years of high school, I felt that science and religion couldn’t mix at all. They were separate and couldn’t inform each other. You had to choose: believe science or believe in God.

Then I heard about Convergence, a high school summer camp held by RMC that explored the intersection of religion and science, and participated in it before my senior year. As in confirmation, I was taught how the two fields could intersect. You could believe in both. It didn’t have to be a choice. And in my second year of college, when I saw Religion and Science on the course offerings, I knew that I had to take the class. I had to learn more about how my love of the night sky and my love of God could coexist.

The class helped me establish my own understanding of that intersection and gave me the ability to articulate my beliefs. It illustrated what I had thought during confirmation, that science enables us to witness the beauty of God, and what I learned from Convergence, that the two can coexist, without having to choose between them. I’m grateful for my experiences in the class and I know it will help me in my future years in ministry and aid me in assisting others who seek to reconcile their own love of science and of God.

Even with my choice, my mom won our fight; I ended up going through confirmation, which became one of the best decisions of my life. It led to many conversations with my youth pastor and peers that slowly chipped away my perceptions of the conflict between science and faith. I eventually was confirmed within the church, and shortly after I went with my Youth Group to Montreat, a conference center in the mountains of Western North Carolina. And it was in these mountains that I first truly heard God’s voice. After engaging with friends about a myriad of different topics, I would go into the mountains or sit by the lake, and in my quiet reflection, I felt a calm like I never experienced before. I was struck by the majesty of creation, and my place within it. It was in these moments that I felt God’s presence.

Ever since that experience, nature has become one of the primary ways I experience God. From spending time in the mountains to just sitting in my own backyard, it is in the tranquility of nature that I find such a quiet peace that allows for that level of reflection. Considering the significance of nature for my faith, and my struggles with faith and science earlier in my life, when I saw a course entitled Religion and Science, I was immediately interested in it. I enrolled with the hope of being able to develop a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between my faith and science. The course provided that and more.

Throughout the semester we examined the historical relationship between religion and science, which included reviewing examples of the supposed conflict between religion and science, such as Galileo. In addition, we also focused on typical ways individuals understand the relationship between religion and science. As a result of this, I was able to better define my perspective, and through that, better understand my faith.

Going into the course, I knew that I wanted to get a better grasp on early thoughts about the mixture of science and religion, to understand how we got to where we are today with such a controversial pairing. The roots of these controversies and the polarization of the topics was something I hoped to learn more about. I wanted to hear stories and cases where scientists had found meaningful ways to reconcile their faith with their work. I longed to hear of people and systems of faith journeying toward harmonizing scientific developments with their belief systems. I hoped to gather information to help my own wrestling between what I know to be true scientifically and what I believe to be true religiously. And, as best one can do in 15 weeks, I gained a plethora of knowledge on the subject.

The college course on science and religion awakened in me a desire to dig into the hard questions that come up when we talk about science and religion. By the time I was taking the course, my career trajectory was clearer. I was preparing to apply to seminary and continue my studies there. I was weighing all the possibilities that a career in ministry had to offer and became increasingly interested in a type of ministry that combines science and religion daily: hospital chaplaincy. The class prepared me with historical, theological, and scientific knowledge that made me a better critical thinker in seminary. Now that I am post-seminary and in a yearlong chaplain residency at a Level 1 Trauma Center in Richmond, Virginia, I can really step back and see the influence that a religion and science course had on my academic career, leading me to where I am today professionally. I speak with patients, family members, and staff every day in a place where science and religion shake hands. It is because of courses such as Religion and Science that I am better prepared to have those conversations and help guide people along their path in both areas.

Can faith and science coexist? This question has dominated the West’s religious and philosophical landscape, especially since Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. In the popular imagination, this question is viewed as indicative of a great battle between two opposing forces. There are no neutral parties; you must pick your side. However, for those who take the opening of Genesis seriously and trust the scientific method, the question is not so black and white.

Growing up, the question of faith and science did not escape my notice. It seemed that not a day would go by without seeing videos “debunking” the Bible or Facebook rants on the threat of teaching evolution to children. In my church, the topic was seldom discussed. Even in a household where science and faith were affirmed, I did not have the conceptual resources to draw upon and was left to figure it out on my own.

In college, I had the opportunity to take a course in religion and science. The desire to intellectually wrestle with these ideas in a context designed for critical thinking initially drew me to the course. I did not think I would answer the question once and for all, but I wanted to acquire the tools to form an intelligent opinion. In the classroom, I could, in a sense, try on different ideas, theories, and outlooks without committing myself to a side.

For me, the seminal work in this learning was John F. Haught’s book Science and Faith: A New Introduction. In each chapter, Haught took on pressing issues, such as evolution, the Big Bang, and morality, through three lenses, what he presented as the three main approaches in our time to the relationship between science and faith. The greatest gift Haught’s book gave me, in conjunction with other readings and class discussions, was the freedom to choose a third way. I did not have to choose faith or science, which Haught described as either conflict or contrast — as if faith and science were inherently hostile toward each other or mutually exclusive — but could explore how they informed one another, an understanding he identified as convergence. I could affirm with Francis Collins that “science is not threatened by God; it is enhanced. God is most certainly not threatened by science; He made it all possible.” With the knowledge I gained, I began to articulate a greater story of the universe, which incorporated the spiritual and scientific.

Now, as a pastor, I can point others to this same freedom and be a resource so they can begin to see a fuller picture of the universe in which they live and the God they worship. In my ministry, I can show how the question of religion and science does not have to be black or white. Instead, it can be a dazzling display of color that stretches and nourishes faith. I am convinced of the necessity of religion and science education because it opened to me a whole new world of faith beyond what society often deems possible.