God and Time

This is the final chapter of a three part exploration into the relation between science and God. In Part One we looked into the beginnings of the universe. In Part Two we saw God in the process of evolution and complexity of micro-biology. Now let us examine the relation between God and time.

Throughout this inquiry, we have seen how science leads us to a point where it can no longer answer its own questions. Science shows itself this riddle in the uncertainty principal inherent in the study of quantum physics. Most frustrating is the limits of science in the subjects covered in each of the three preceding chapters: regarding the origin of life, the beginning of the universe, and the very fact that there is something rather than nothing—the problem of sum.

When taking the time to fully examine the workings of science in the evolution of life and the Big Bang, science reaches its limit just as we realize that chance could not have been the efficient cause. And the answer to the question of sum, is the love of God.

Now that we have admitted that there is a cause outside our understanding of science, we cannot fall into the trap of attempting to explain God with our laws, the lesson learned at the end of the last chapter. For human knowledge is not large enough to contain the truths of God.

In order to allow our minds to separate the rules we know through our experience, especially the laws of science and logic, we must do away with some of our most basic assumptions. Otherwise we will never begin to grasp science’s place as the language of God, nor see how God and science are really not at odds.

One of our first problems is that of time. We touched on this in Part One, stating that using a word like “before” when speaking of the Big Bang verges on nonsense. What we have learned regarding time in the last Century can be extremely helpful in understanding God and the way he interacts with our universe.

Until Aristotle, the common belief of the philosophers was that the world was on an infinite time-line. The implications of Aristotle’s teachings on cause and effect, which we discussed in some detail in Chapter Two, was that this could not be the case. Effects could not follow causes back ad infinitum, and therefore, time could not go backward to infinity either. Aristotle did not himself explicitly connect his principle of cause and effect to time. This teaching had to wait until St. Augustine, who first named time as a property of God. “What times should there be,” he asked, “which were not made by thee?” (Confessions, XI, 15) St. Augustine almost predicts the science of the Big Bang when he declares that before the creation, time was not. And while God is eternal, no time is co-eternal with God (ibid. 40), in other words, time cannot be infinite. Aristotle’s teaching of first cause is finally reconciled with our observation of passing time, which seems to suggest a prior infinity. It had been a paradox which only the insertion of a force unbound by time could answer.

St. Augustine addresses his argument to those who ask what God did before he made the universe:

“If the roving thought of anyone should wander through the images of bygone time, and wonder why Thou, the God Almighty, and All-creating, and All-sustaining, the Architect of heaven and earth, didst for innumberable ages refrain from so great a work before Thou wouldst make it, let him awake and consider that he wonders at false things. For whence could innumerable ages pass by which Thou didst not make, since Thou art the Author and Creator of all ages?… Thou art the Creator of all times… nor could times pass by before Thou madest times.” (ibid. 15)

He then addresses the very issue we were discussing in the previous chapter, the futility of measuring God with the laws of this earth.

“Those who say these things do not as yet understand Thee, O Thou Wisdom of God, Thou light of souls; not as yet do they understand how these things be made which are made by and in Thee. They even endeavor to comprehend things eternal; but as yet their heart flieth about in the past and future motions of things, and is still wavering… Who will hold the heart of man, that it may stand still and see how the still-standing Eternity, itself neither future nor past, uttereth the times future and past?” (ibid. 13)

God is eternal, and his present contains not only our present, but our future and our past. God’s reach extends to all time that ever was and ever shall be. This is very difficult for our minds to comprehend, but it is God’s nature to be incomprehensible. Thus, Augustine says, “If we could understand him, he would not be God.” (De Trinitate )

In all our dealings with the Divine, we must recall our limits of understanding. As human intelligence grows, we really come no closer to answering the fundamental questions without allowing faith to enter the equation. Yet the temptation exists to become cavalier with our knowledge and, in either science or philosophy, present a partial and imperfect view as the complete reading of all reality. This, Pope John Paul II calls “philosophical pride,” endangering us to forget the primacy of enquiry, which always reminds us what we don’t know, along with what we do. (Fides et Ratio, 4)

Discarding the notion of absolute time opens up a vastness to our perception of God. We can see how he watches us, guards us, and hears our prayers intimately, each as if we were his only child. We no longer ask “how does God have time to hear all our prayers?” Nor “How can God know everything?” God is vast enough to contain all ages and locations within his intimate present. There was no “before” God created, for creation is a constant act of unending love. As we saw in Chapter One, God’s love was so great that what we call existence sprung out of him. With our law of time, we can rightly say that creation happened at a moment, as measured by our location in the cosmos, and that a certain amount of time has passed since that moment. But from God’s perspective, the first creation is always in the now.

God’s love is the first efficient cause, what Aristotle calls “the first principle,” and time is merely one of his effects. Aquinas says, “Everything that is outside God is from God as from its first principle. Therefore, besides God nothing can be infinite.” (Summa Theologica, I Q.7 A.2) This conclusion applies not only to time, but to all the laws of science, and especially to our knowledge, which cannot have the kind of infinity we may attribute to God.
Augustine saw no paradox in our observations of time and its limitations of past, present and future. God cannot be thought of in such terms, for his presence, his love, and his creation are always in the now. St. Augustine’s insight was truly ahead of his time, yet his teaching was considered purely theological. The scientific implications were not fully considered for another fifteen hundred years.

In 1905, an unknown twenty-six year old physicist wrote a paper showing that the speed of light, which until a few decades before had been thought to be instantaneous, was actually a constant velocity, and the fastest speed by which anything can actually or theoretically travel. Further, all motion of matter can only be defined, relative to other matter. These conclusions lead to the famous formula, E=mc2, showing the relation of mass to energy, and space to time. The young physicist, of course, was Albert Einstein, and the paper, “On the Electrodynamics of Moving Bodies,” led to the theory of special relativity. It has been proven that no matter can actually reach the speed of light. Only energy particles (such as photons) can travel at light speed. As matter particles are sped up to very close to light speed, their mass increases. At this speed, time also slows down. The effect on time is not seen until particles come very close to the speed of light, so it is not a phenomenon we can observe in our actual experience, but it has been proven, nonetheless. Therefore, time, even within the limits of our universe and our science, is not a constant. Time travel has become theoretically quite possible. If we were to travel into space at close to light speed, and then return to earth, we would return at a much later date. One year could have passed for us in our space ship while ten years had passed on earth. When we gaze at the stars in the sky we see them as they shone thousands or even millions of years ago. When we see a shooting star we are actually witnessing an event of the distant past.

What Einstein teaches is that time must no longer be a limitation to our understanding, for it only exists in relation to space, and might be described differently by two bodies in varying states of motion. Even the progression of time might have variation. It is not necessarily a constant and straight line. St. Augustine would undoubtedly have been very excited by Einstein’s work, which has opened up a whole new understanding of science in the last century.

The actual working of special relativity was further clarified by the discovery of the Big Bang, for it shows the way bodies, specifically, planets, stars and galaxies, are moving in relation to one another. The universe is expanding at a measurable rate, from a predictable beginning, about fifteen and a half or sixteen billion years ago as measured by time on earth. (This last point: “as measured by time on earth” is very important, as we shall soon see.) The Big Bang initiated space, which has been expanding ever since, and motion, which is the act of expansion. Time only exists in relation to these two. Aristotle believed that “there must always be motion without intermission, and thus there must necessarily be something eternal, a unity or plurality that first imparted motion, and this first movent must be unmoved… the first movent must be one and eternal.” (Physics, 258b10) Aristotle is proven correct by the Big Bang.

The picture now arises of God in the center of the universe. He, the first mover of whom Aristotle spoke, who is one and eternal, hurled out the firmaments in a Big Bang, setting them in a motion which has continued ever since. Time is our method of measuring the space traveled by the matter of which we are a part. We seek to solve the puzzle of the cosmos, measuring it with our telescopes and radio equipment, and have been successful at observing the universe as it was at a very young age. We have been able to reconstruct the history of the universe for almost the entirety of its roughly sixteen billion year history. This is how old we believe the universe to be as measured from here. But Einstein has shown that time may be different for two bodies in varying states of motion. How might the universe be measured from God’s perspective, from the vantage-point of one who had not moved since the Big Bang? Christians frequently try to argue proven scientific theory because they believe it contradicts the Bible. Ultimately, they usually end up looking quite foolish. Examples include Copernicus’ and Galileo’s teachings on the Earth’s place in the universe, Darwin’s theory of evolution, and recent discoveries on the age and growth of the universe. Genesis describes the creation of the earth having taken place in six days. Many Christians do not want to hear any science regarding a longer development. Typically I do not take the time to address such arguments, for it belittles science and takes the beautiful creation poem of Genesis woefully out of context. Genesis was written over three thousand years ago from an oral tradition carried by the Israelites since the time of Moses. It must be read from the historical and scientific perspective of the time. Yet it is fascinating to observe how special relativity unites Genesis to modern science, and eliminates the debate of six days versus sixteen billion years. Let us follow this idea to its conclusion.

The universe is expanding at a much slower rate now than it was just after the Big Bang. In the early moments everything moved at just under light speed. It has been gradually slowing down ever since. Now time slows down for an object approaching light speed. Though earth did not yet exist, let us suppose that we had a clock to measure time ever since the Big Bang, which was now with us on earth. Though our clock has been ticking steadily ever since the beginning, as the motion of the universe has slowed, the clock will be ticking slower in relation to an unmoving object still at the center of the universe, watching earth move away from it. In the early moments, the clock would have been ticking much faster, meaning that for the stationary object at the center, much less time would have passed than on our moving clock. From our perspective on earth, time was always steady. But from the perspective of one standing at the beginning point, things would have seemed to be going very fast. Indeed, if seen by the stationary being, the earth clock would have been ticking many times faster than his own clock.

Throughout all the empty space in our universe there is an observable radio frequency (called the “Cosmic Background Radiation”) which is literally left-over heat from the Big Bang. Through it and through our lab experiments which duplicate some of conditions shortly afterwards, physicists have managed to predict the relation between present earth time, and time as it passed in those early moments. The formulas are complex and I do not want to weigh down this writing with intricate science and mathematics. But These formulae allow us to predict how much time has passed from earth perspective, and how much time would have passed for an observer from the central point.

Gerald Schroeder, the Israeli scientist who I referenced extensively in our discussion of biological evolution, has created a model to compare time as measured on earth, with time as it stood from the perspective of one still standing at the moment of the Big Bang. (“The Science of God” chap. 4) This stationary being, of course, is God, the first mover. With the Big Bang, God created the universe and began the line of time. Proven physics tells us that by the time one day had passed from this perspective, eight billion years would have passed on our moving clock measuring earth time. But as the rate of expansion slows down, so does our moving clock. So by the time the second twenty-four hours had passed for God at the center, four billion years would have passed on our clock. On God’s third day, two billion years would have passed on the earth clock. On God’s fourth day, one billion years would pass. On God’s fifth day, five hundred million years would pass. On God’s sixth day, two hundred and fifty million years would pass. Thus, after six days for God, fifteen and three quarter billion years would have passed on our earth clock. “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night.” (Psalm 90:4)

The old Ussher calendar, which some Christians guard so fiercely, describes the history of the world in approximately six thousand years, plus the six days of creation. The physics of the expanding universe and the Big Bang predicts that the universe is approximately sixteen billion years old. Through Einstein’s law of special relativity, we see that the two time-lines agree almost exactly.

What about the Bible’s description of what happened on those six days of creation and science’s account of what took sixteen billion years? Schroeder goes on to make this comparison (ibid. p. 67) and the correlation is almost spooky. The writer of Genesis actually got the science right! The following is based on Schroedr’s model, comparing the days of Genesis with the corresponding stretch of time as indicated above, along with my own interpretations of the verses of scripture in the context of science.

Genesis 1:3: “Then God said, ‘let there be light.’ And there was light.” Gloriously so! This is the moment of the Big Bang. It further says “the earth was a formless void.” (Gen 1:2) Indeed matter did not yet have form and there was no earth. “And God separated the light from the darkness.” (Gen 1:4) As matter formed out of energy, indeed, dark space appeared, separated from the continued light that permeated all at the very beginning. By the end of the first eight billion years, galaxies had formed. This was the first day.

Genesis 1:6: “And God said, “Let there be a dome in the sky, to separate the waters.” A lot happened on the second day, the next four billion years. The sun and earth are born. And indeed, at the end of this period, liquid water forms.

Genesis 1:12: “And the earth brought forth life.” As soon as the earth cooled enough for water to appear, the first forms of life arose. Bacteria and primitive algaes began to grow in the waters. This was the third day.

Genesis 1:14, 16: “And God said, ‘let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night,’ the greater to rule the day, and the lesser to rule the night.” During the one billion year span of the fourth day, the earth’s atmosphere became transparent so that the sun and moon could produce light on the earth. Through photo-synthesis, oxygen develops in the atmosphere.

Genesis 1:20: “And God said, ‘let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures.’” Based on our comparison of cosmic clocks, and time as it is passing on earth compared to God’s time, God’s creation of “swarms” of living creatures lines up exactly with the Cambrian explosion! The fossil record shows this immediate abundance of life which Genesis tells us happened on the fifth day.

Genesis 1:24,26: “Then God said, ‘let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind,” and finally, “let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness.” According to the Bible, these happen on the same day, day six. And the fossil record agrees. It was about two hundred and fifty million years ago that animals first lived on dry land, and finally, the homo sapien appeared.

The way the two accounts (scripture and science) line up is startling. Not only does Genesis get the order of events exactly right, but describes the times of their occurrence correctly as well. Did the writer get lucky? Is it an accident that the Bible predicts science so well with an account that has been often relegated to myth? Rather, we must appreciate, as Schroeder says, that “the Bible is eerily true and filled with wisdom,” which in the case just outlined, could not have been known at the time it was written. (ibid. p.70)

We have now been able to go beyond St. Augustine, who said that God could not be described by time. Now we can describe God by time—a relative time through which science, long thought to disprove creation, now actually helps to prove the truth of Genesis!
To conclude this topic, we see in the relativity of time, just as we saw in the Big Bang and through evolution, the work of God’s love in every phenomena of the universe. St. Augustine told us that time is a tool of God. Einstein showed us how this tool works and relates to our place in the cosmos. Our understanding of things divine will always fall short, but through science we come ever closer, though however much we discover, God’s knowledge remains ineffably above ours. Aquinas says “God’s act of understanding is measured by eternity, and since eternity is without succession, comprehending all time, the present glance of God extends over all time, and to all things which exist in any time, as to subjects present to him.” (Summa Theologica, I Q.14 A.9)

The Language of God

This is Part Two in a three part exploration into the relation between science and God. In Part One we looked into the beginnings of the universe. Now we must examine what followed, particularly with regard to life on this earth. Could it have all come about by chance, or must it have been directed by God?

It is startling to consider the complexity of our world and life as we know it, remembering the smoothness and total simplicity of the universe at the moments just following the Big Bang. From that total simplicity it is incredible to consider the formation of the elements, not to mention the formation of complex worlds, organisms and bodies. Similarly, once the bang itself was over and the universe began to cool, everything was chaos. Elements formed, broke apart, re-formed, crashed and splintered with one another at an alarming rate, as it all shot away from itself at close to the speed of light. Yet from this chaos arose the order of the universe, the forces of nature, the grand dance of space and time.

When our world was formed it was chaotic, but from that chaos rose the complexity and order of the atmosphere, land and water, and eventually, life in the incredibly complex bodies of the plants and animals. Where in nature do we see any examples of complexity arising out of chaos? On the contrary, we observe that the opposite takes place. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that the disorder in a system always increases. Yet evolution seems to imply that order can arise out of chaos. Could this be true?

When Darwin first posed his theory of mutation through multiple generations, plant and animal bodies were not thought to be as complex as we now know them to be. It may have taken a leap of faith to believe that we developed slowly over millions of years, from single-celled protozoa to humanity, but not as much of a leap as it takes today. I do not argue that evolution occurred in the development of the world, but in this chapter I wish to point out, using strictly scientific data, the impossibility of chance as the only answer. In the end, believing that life came about by chance is no more scientific than belief in a deity.

Without considering the dramatic complexity of our entire bodies, let us merely examine one cell, and then consider the possibility that it would have evolved through chance mutations, without some force driving it toward life.

So how does a cell work? What makes it so fascinating and beautiful? Within a cell are hundreds of proteins, each designed for specific functions. They all combine to make the cell behave in such a way that your organ or limb then behaves in the way you expect it to. Let us look at one example of what happens within a cell, this example within the nerve cell of a finger after touching a hot surface, as described by Professor Gerald Schroeder in his book, “The Hidden Face of God.” (2002, Simon & Schuster)

You’ve touched something too hot for comfort. The heat stimulates the sensitive endings of the nerve, inducing it to rapidly send the message to its target receivers, in this case the spinal cord. The signal, a cascade of ions, travels from the receiving dentrite, past the cell body, and on toward the axonlike extension. At this point the action potential is generated that, as a wave, transmits the signal the length of the axon to the synaptic terminals at its end. Since the axon terminal does not actually attach to the target neuron’s dendrite… the nerve has the electrical action potential within the axon stimulate the release of chemical neurotransmitters into the synaptic gap. The electrical signal has become a chemical signal. These neurotransmitters have been “conveniently” stored in organelles called Golgi apparatus near the axon’s terminals. The Golgi package the neurotransmitters at their point of manufacture in the cell body and then, with the help of motor proteins, transport them and other essential molecules from within the cell body, down the axon, to the location of use near the cell membrane. The Golgi, upon command, release the neurotransmitter into the synapse, where it diffuses across the opening, attaches to the target dendrite, and in doing so triggers a secondary neural signal to start on its way… The trip from the cell body where the Golgi and neurotransmitter are made to axon terminal can be up to a meter distant, [and would take] about two days when traveling via motor protein… [But] when called into action, the Golgi move within a millisecond. The Golgi fuses with the inner surface of the axon synaptic membrane, and then, in a process known as exocytosis, bursts through on the outside, into the synaptic gap. (Chapt. 6)

I know this is a bit complex. But that is the point. When I think of this process I visualize something that looks more like a big factory than my own little nerve cell. It is stunning to think of it all taking place each time my fingers strike the key on which I am writing. It all occurs within a split second. And consider that a million such processes are being carried out by the cells of your body right now. Your cells are actively breaking down nutrients into ATP, using that energy to build various proteins, just like the Golgi and motor proteins described above, so that they will be ready for action as soon as they are needed.

Professor Schroeder urges one to think of all the instances, just in this one process described, when small parts of your cells seem to act with knowledge and intelligence in performing their tasks. The design is so intricate. If it was not created with knowledge, then knowledge must have been written into the system. In other words, the laws of science pre-destined intelligent life. Yet to say that such complexity is written into the laws of he universe would be just as amazing as the complexity we observe. Who gave the Golgi, the axons, the neorotransmitters in your finger their knowledge? If it was the laws of science, then how did the laws of science acquire its knowledge?

I would advise everyone who thinks that their bodies could have come about by chance to really make a full examination into the world of molecular biology. I would highly recommend Schroeder’s book which I quoted above. The ingenuity of it is absolutely stunning!

How carefully God ordered everything in our bodies. For a human being to engineer the complexity of a single cell would be an invention unsurpassed by any other. To think of even one cell coming about by pure chance defies logic. Those who try to use such science to explain away God are like those of whom the book of Wisdom says, “seeking God and desiring to find him, while they live among his works they keep searching, and they trust in what they see, because the things that are seen are beautiful. Yet… if they had the power to know so much that they could investigate the world, how did they fail to find sooner the Lord of these things?” (Wis. 13:6-9)

The more I learn about the inner workings of my body the more I am stunned by its order and complexity. Little of this complexity was known when Darwin suggested that varying species came about by random mutations.

Find the most complicated machine, or appliance in your house. Examine it for awhile, then think about the possibility of someone who knows nothing about it taking its parts, laying them on the floor, stirring and arranging them in a variety of ways, heating and cooling the solder at random, and eventually the machine comes to be in its present, not only functional, but well designed and beautiful form. This exercise, of course, is ridiculous! Fifteen billion years would not suffice for it to work. Yet this is not far off from Richard Dawkins’ model of random evolution! And your body is a million times more complicated than the appliance. St. Dionysius observes that “no object of any utility, and fitted to be serviceable, is made without design or by mere chance, but is wrought by skill of hand, and is contrived so as to meet its proper use.” (De Natura, II)

But maybe it did all come about by chance. Maybe the elements were pre-disposed to combine in such ways to make this complexity happen. Before you confess to such a theory, remember that we are bound by the laws of our world. If there is no power that is outside of and greater than our world, then we must imagine such things coming about in the world as we understand it to operate. And where in the world, in nature, do you find any example of complexity arriving out of chaos? Where has it ever been shown that elements could spontaneously manifest into complex forms? When left alone, nature decays, rather than creates. The only example we see in nature of the opposite is from a parent to a child.
But does the theory of random evolution demand that it happens more than once? Darwin stated that given enough time a species can beget a vastly different species through mutations and generations of intermediate varieties (“The Origin of Species,” chap 9). Darwin’s theory is widely supported by the fossil record for the evolution within a particular genome (dogs evolving into other types of dogs), within families (an ape evolving into a man), but nowhere do we find evidence of one phyla giving rise to another (a sponge evolving into a fish). This latter type of evolution is purely speculative. Darwin theorized that it could happen, given enough time.

But in the years since, notably in the work of Elso Barghoorn during the 1970s, and through the analysis of the Burgess fossils in the 1980s, it was proven that life forms developed over a rather short period of time. The first single-celled organisms came to be between 3.5 and 4 billion years ago, and more complex organisms came into existence about 530 million years ago. This period, when multi-celled life begins to appear in the fossil record, is known as the Cambrian Age. The ideal conditions on earth at this time gave rise to every additional phyla (animal group) that has survived to the present day. Some phyla died off in the ensuing Ordovician Ice Age, and the rest have come to represent all the species we know today. This huge diversification of life has come to be known as the “Cambrian Explosion.” The climates were warm, wet and mild, and ocean currents moved freely, baring the significant build up of ice formations. (M. Alan Kazlev: “Palaeos,” 2000) The Cambrian Age only lasted 53 million years, a “blink of an eye” in geological terms, yet all the complexity of multi-celled organisms came into being at this time.

Classical Darwinian evolution shows how a single ancestral line can change through beneficial mutations and then gradually take over the entire population with the new trait. It takes a very long time. The speculation was that over many millions of years, new species would be formed and grow. But what the Cambrian explosion tells us is that the time was not long enough for all species to have come from a single parent. Complexity arose out of simplicity, not once, but dozens of times. These discoveries prove that the chance manifestation of complexity which we see nowhere else in the natural world did not just need to happen once. It needed to happen numerous times within this “short” period. The type of progeny which Darwin describes relies on a much longer stretch of years.

So, knowing that time was too short for all the new phyla in the Cambrian Age to have come from a common ancestor, could these species have come to be without the benefit of a parent? The kind of chance manifestation of complexity which Richard Dawkins claims could develop naturally? This would require cells to form and combine on their own. Think again of the experiment with the household appliance, and the forces of nature being the maker attempting to put the parts together. Let us just look at the possibility of one single protein evolving on its own (not to mention a whole cell!).

The average protein consists of 288 amino acids, of which 12 are different types of amino acids. The absence, addition, or replacement of a single amino acid in the structure of the protein will ruin it. Every amino acid has to be in the right place and in the right order. Now 288 amino acids could be arranged in a number of ways approximating ten to the three hundredth power. Since we know that only the exact amino acid chain is viable, the chances of creating these viable proteins by chance are approximately one in ten to the three hundredth power. Furthermore, one protein cannot survive in nature on its own, without a cellular structure to protect it from outside forces. The human body contains an estimated 100,000 proteins. Even given an ideal setting, with a rapidly evaporating amino acid concentrated Cambrian pool, the chances of even one viable protein forming by accident is microscopic! (G. Schroeder: “The Science of God, chap. 7 1997)

I wonder how discouraged Dawkins, or other “neo-evolutionists” who argue that chance brought it all about, would be if they tried to put together a mathematical probability equation for their theory. The scientists who pay more attention to mathematics realize how unlikely it is for ten to the three hundredth power to occur a hundred thousand times! Then think that it has to happen in all the new phyla that came about during this period, and that it only has 53 million years to complete the work. There is no way to make a mathematical case for this theory. Dawkins’ model for randomness seems to imply that it is possible, but he starts out knowing the answer he is trying to reach and thus, the evolution is essentially directed toward that goal. In this experiment, Dawkins plays God, knowing the final form and then directing the hypothetical mutations that way. The problem with thinking that nature might have known its goal, would be that for multiple generations, the organ would have remained only partially evolved, in which state it would have been useless. St. Dionysius anticipates Dawkins and proves him wrong with the plain truth that when anything is not in service, not useful, then we observe in every case that it begins to break up indeterminately, and decomposes and dissipates in casual and unregulated ways, for the wisdom which constructed it no longer controls or maintains it. (De Natura, II)

Dawkins himself admits that “it is vanishingly improbably that exactly the same evolutionary pathway should ever be traveled twice.” (“The Blind Watchmaker,” 1985 p. 94) Yet Schroeder points out, using the example of the eye, how this trait of vision had to have developed simultaneously in multiple Cambrian era phyla. (“The Science of God, chap. 7 1997) The eye is vastly more complex than the nerve cell described above, yet it seems to have evolved almost simultaneously and nearly identically in multiple phyla. Could an organ as complex as an eye have sprung into existence just through blind luck?

Rather, the details prove the careful work of the love which created us. The beauty of science is to begin to understand the language with which our Creator works and to see its marvel in ever greater detail.

Imagine if life on earth came to a close. All our cities are destroyed and buried beneath dust. After a thousand years some intelligent species from another planet comes to the lifeless earth. There are curious archeologists in this group and they begin to uncover the remains of our cities, starting with the most recent. They first dig up our huge skyscrapers and sprawling malls. Then they dig up some brick apartment buildings from a century before, noting the difference, and the added complexity of the newer buildings. Eventually they get to the ruins of medieval castles and churches, then of Roman times, and finally to the huts of primitive tribes. Knowing nothing of humanity, they return to their planet and publish their findings, concluding that these structures evolved over thousands of years, pointing to the gradually increasing complexity. At some point, they observe, electricity suddenly and inexplicably manifested itself in these buildings, giving a whole new range of functionality.

Did human architecture evolve? Of course! But to think of it happening by chance is ridiculous. And do we blame early humans for the mistakes they made, or how long it took? No. We marvel at their ingenuity and creativity.

Why do we not allow our Creator the same? Must it either have all been created at once, perfect and complete, or have evolved completely by chance? When we look at the complexity and beauty just of our own bodies, not to mention the rest of the world, is it beyond our concept of God to suggest that maybe it was hard work and took some time? Is God less magnificent if we suggest that the work may have taken several billion years, or that the engineering was in some cases left to the species itself? Is this a concession of sovereignty?

Such chance occurrences as Dawkins supposes cannot truly be considered a scientific theory. Admittedly, neither can my assertion that life was created by God. For a theory to be scientific, according to Stephen Hawking, it must “relate quantities in the model to observations that we make… A theory is a good theory if it satisfies two requirements. It must accurately describe a large class of observations on the basis of a model that contains only a few arbitrary elements, and it must make definite predictions about the results of future observations.” (“A Brief History of Time,” p. 10) Aristotle thought that philosophy itself could discover all the laws of the universe, but beginning with Galileo, scientists began to test their theories with more and more rigorous experiments. (ibid. p. 15) This is now the accepted scientific method. Dawkins’ view on chance, and mine on God, must now be considered philosophy rather than science, since observation and prediction does not apply. What science can show us is what philosophy may be incorrect or highly improbable. It is easier to refute than to prove. In my mind, the examples shown of the complexity of micro-biology, and the speed at which it had to evolve disprove the philosophical theory of chance.

Surrounding all the details of life’s evolution is the over-arching reality that existence is balanced on a preverbal knife-edge. On a micro level (species), one cell, or even protein altered could kill an organism; at its onset, that alteration would have precluded the species from having ever existed. On an intermediate level (earth), a slight atmospheric or temporal alteration would wipe out life on this planet; and with all the evolution that has occurred over the years, it is hard to imagine the atmosphere would not have even briefly been altered in a deadly way. On a macro level (universe), in the last chapter we looked at what disaster would have occurred if the Big Bang had propelled things a fraction faster or a fraction slower. This slim balance of life does not suggest randomness but order. Where in life or our experiences do we see any evidence of order arising out of chaos? Science fits so perfectly to existence. How can something so precise be utterly random?

Even if we claim that science had laws which forced the precision and urged matter toward complexity and life, how did the laws of science arise? That presents us another puzzle just as unsolvable as the first. Some scientists, realizing the implication of the new discoveries described above, now argue that the universe was pre-disposed toward life. The laws of science themselves urged life to spring from the chaos. To this theory I would make two remarks—first that we are already doing away with the laws of science by saying this. The laws of science, if they are laws, must behave consistently, and we do not see this occuring anywhere else in observation or experiment. Any such theory leaves the realm of science, for it is inconsistent with the laws. Remember what we have defined as the accepted guidelines of scientific theory. This leads us to the second observation—that any “urging” which caused life and does not fit in with scientific law, is a definition for God, just as any “cause” of the Big Bang, which is outside science, would be a god. My own definition of God may be different than how the agnostic describes this outside force, but as they relate to science, the difference is obsolete.

Truly, God is not outside the laws of science. God is the laws of science! Science is the language of God. St. Thomas says “the word ‘God’ signifies something of which nothing greater can be thought.” (Summa Theologica, I Q2. A1)

We hate to admit that there is something beyond our ability to explain. If something does not fit into science, we are disposed to think it cannot exist, or perhaps our understanding is incomplete. This leads us into the trap of trying to explain away God with his own language of science. God does not fit into the scientific method. The scientific method makes the claim to truth being the simple facts that we can observe. In Latin, Verum est Factum. There is no room for mystery, or for a set of rules beyond the reach of our measurements.

I have tried to present these theories to some scientists who write the whole thing off before they even consider my arguments because it does not adhere to the scientific method. It is not a theory which can be tested and proved. (They seldom have an answer to my own claim that chance is not a proper scientific theory either.)

Yet does science always even fit the scientific method?

For the answer, let us leave biology and take a closer look into the field of quantum physics. There we will find how the scientific method has led us astray, and perhaps an answer to how we must approach our queries into the divine.

At the onset of the twentieth century the entire study of physics was turned upside down, mostly by the work of Max Planck and Albert Einstein, who discovered the fact that Newton’s laws, which work very well when applied to large particles of matter (let us call them macro particles), break down when applied to a single atom (quantum particle). This brought about the study of quantum physics. Let us look at the surprising results that we achieve from experiments with quantum particles.

You may be familiar with what is known as the “Two Slit Experiment.” Atoms are fired one at a time at a screen with two slits cut vertically from each other. There is another screen set on the other side to pick up the interference pattern. Now if light were shown against the slits we would expect the interference pattern to show up as a series of fuzzy lines because of the wave quality of the light. The astonishing thing is that atoms, shot one at a time at first seem to be hitting the far screen in a random pattern, but after many have been fired, they begin to show the same sort of interference pattern as the light. The end result of this experiment is one of the proofs that quantum particles, though they leave the gun and are recorded on the far screen as localized particles, actually behave as waves and seem to go through both slits at once. What scientists have come to believe about both light and the components of atoms is that both behave as particles and waves simultaneously. The particle aspect is the localized actualization of a potential created by the wave. Thus, we can never be completely sure where we will find the quantum particle at any point in measurement.

Needless to say, scientists have attempted to observe this phenomenon at work. But something very strange happens when they do this. If any sort of detector is placed near the first screen to “watch” the atom going through the slits, the interference pattern disappears, and the atoms appear in two groupings on the other side, as we would expect if we were sending macro particles through instead. The simple act of watching causes the atom to behave as a particle throughout the test, and never as a wave. This has confounded physicists for decades.

The act of detecting the quantum particle actually changes its nature. This is unavoidable, because if we were to shine a single photon of light at an atom, the photon would interact with the atom, changing its behavior, in some cases even its atomic makeup. Remember that the photon, just like the atom, has the properties of both a particle and a wave. The photon becomes entangled with the atom. For this reason, in our observation of quantum particles, we are never able to know everything about both their location and their movement at any time. Einstein theorized with his 1935 Gedanken Versuch that we can observe the atom’s particle nature or its wave nature with near complete accuracy at any time, but not both. Thus, we encounter a failure in our ability to predict the behavior of an atom. We can determine the probability of an atom’s location or velocity, but we cannot pinpoint it for sure.
Yet, even understanding that the measuring system, by means of entanglement, alters the behavior of the quantum particle, nearly a century later we do not know why it causes the interference pattern (seemingly the entire wave aspect) to disappear. We cannot explain what goes on behind the so called quantum curtain. Niels Bohr argued that it was useless to theorize what happened in the absence of a measuring device, since the only way we can learn anything about quantum behavior is if we accept the interaction it has with the measuring device; the observer is central to the behavior of the atom, photon, or electron. This is a simplistic summary of the Copenhagen Interpretation, spearheaded by Bohr. It is pretty much saying that if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, it does not make a sound! I am not so quick to give up, and I expect that time will lead us to further discoveries in our ability to measure the quantum system, but Bohr’s interpretation does lead us to the heart of the problem. We, the observer, our measuring device, even the very surroundings we are giving to the experiment, are soundly entrenched in the macro plane. We are subject to classical Newtonian laws of physics. Meanwhile, the tiny quantum particle we are playing with is obeying different laws altogether. When we attempt to measure it, we are subjecting it to laws it was never meant to obey, and terminology by which it was never meant to be described. We cannot understand how anything can behave simultaneously as a particle and a wave, nor can our measuring systems, and thus have we inadvertently forced the quantum particle into a macro world. The only way we could truly measure the quantum particle would be with quantum measuring systems and a truly quantum observer. Obviously this is impossible, and so for now we must be content to accept that the truth is a mystery. Verum est Mysterium. It is there. We must believe it. But for now, we cannot see it. The scientific method gives us no help when observing quantum particles.

The two important conclusions we are forced to draw from our observations of quantum particles is, A: we cannot be sure that the rules we know for one system will apply to another system and, B: truth is sometimes more than the facts, even in science.

Do you see the similarities we face when discussing the realm of the divine? God is in a metaphysical realm while we try to observe him with physical laws. It is impossible. God made the rules, yet put us in a different system, subject to different rules. Similarly, since we and all matter are made up of millions of quantum particles, we could say that the quantum particles “made” the classical, Newtonian laws with which we then attempt to view the quantum world. We do not understand how an atom can be both wave and particle, yet the truth is that we, who do not understand, would not exist if this were not so! Similarly we do not understand God, the metaphysical realm, or what happens to us after death. We cannot fit God into our understanding just as we cannot fit a quantum particle into the observance of a macro system.

Every new discovery in science has given us a closer glimpse at the image of our Creator, and the great loving care with which we were crafted. Our selfishness attempts to explain away the need for the genius behind it, but all of nature, all of science confess the creative energy and the tremendous love with which we and all the gifts we share were made. That God does not fit into our rules is not an argument that there is no God, but rather an argument that there is!

How did it All Begin

This will begin a three part inquiry into the relation between God and science. In this first piece, we will look at the origins of the universe. In the second part we will look for God in the history of biological evolution, and in the final part we will look at the relation between God and time. This exploration builds on my earlier article, THE PROBLEM OF SUM.

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Humanity has wondered where they came from since they were first able to reason. Early societies invented myths and fantastic legends about our history. The Jewish people presented the theistic account of Genesis. The philosophers of Greece tried to discover the answer through reason, but even they often fell into myth. Finally, modern science has attempted to answer this question. But where do we now stand? Are we really any closer to knowing how it all began?

This exploration will transport us to the beginnings of the universe and carry us with its history as it evolved, asking the question: could this all have come about by chance, or does it point to a Creating Love behind, the very love which is the reason for existence itself? To arrive at my conclusions I will be exploring deeply into the revelations of modern science and ancient philosophy. Because of the fact that science leads me to the conclusion that the world was created, I understand that much of my views will be immediately discarded. The very mention of a potential Creator, or God, is anathema to much of the scientific community. But I would ask my readers to follow with me through the ensuing arguments, and consider the implications of my conclusions.

Scientists currently like to refer to the Big Bang as the accepted beginning of existence. Exploration beyond this moment tends to fall into the realm of fantasy. Certainly, there have been some interesting theories posited to describe the circumstances which may have led up to the Big Bang, but it is impossible to test such theories, and so they remain and will continue to remain speculation. That the Big Bang was the “beginning” is clear in so much as there was no time before this event. One can suppose that all the laws of our universe (including time) were birthed at this moment. So if there was something prior, it could not be measured by our time, nor theoretically by the laws of science as we know them. Even using words such as “before” in reference to the Big Bang verges on nonsense. In the final chapter we will look deeper into the concept of time and its limitations.

Instead of handicapping ourselves by using words indicative of time to speak of a circumstance when time did not exist, let us speak rather of causes. The Big Bang was the cause to which the universe and time itself are the effects. Aristotle teaches convincingly that causes cannot proceed from prior causes ad infinitum. (Metaphysics: 994a1) Thus we are obliged to ask whether the Big Bang was itself an effect, to which there was another efficient cause, or was it the original cause?

When scientists do speak of what may have caused the Big Bang, or what may have come before, they tend to arrive at two generalized conclusions: those who find the Big Bang to be an acceptable beginning—in that time, matter, motion, and the laws of science sprung out of it. They agree that to speak of a before is nonsense, nor do they speak of any prior cause. The Big Bang is itself the first cause of which Aristotle spoke. The second group pose theories of potential antecedent universes, or a universe in an infinite pattern of expansion and contraction.

Let us first treat the latter conclusion. Here again, Aristotle’s law of cause and effect must be considered. For if the Big Bang was an effect, what caused its cause? If the universe has been contracting and expanding repeatedly, what started it off the first time? Or if it has been proceeding ad infinitum, how did the effect which is us, ever come to be? The only way around the necessity of a first cause is through an acceptance of infinity. But there can be no infinity in actuality, only in theory and potential. Once something reached the infinity which had been potential, it would no longer be infinite. If time went back infinitely, we could not have reached a now. By reaching the present, time would have become finite. As another example, scientists speak of the possibility of the universe being spacially infinite, but by that they simply mean that it has the potential to expand infinitely, yet at every point toward that expansion, it will still be finite. Aristotle defines infinity as “that which is incapable of being traversed, or that which admits only of incomplete traverse.” (ibid. 1066a35) This definition confirms that infinity is in potential, for in actuality it is never traversed. Those who speak of an infinite prior history try to defend it through the relativity of time and motion, the knowledge of which indeed refutes one of the Philosopher’s primary examples in his argument of cause and effect. But while time and motion are indeed relative, cause is not. Therefore, to posit an infinite series of causes leading up to the Big Bang, it would require an infinite causal path to have been traversed, which is impossible.

Let us now proceed to examine the possibility that the Big Bang begat everything. This is certainly a neat and tidy theory. Through experiment and observable data it has become increasingly obvious that the Big Bang is a true theory (obvious enough, in fact, that scientists now often refer to it as “the standard model”). But to stop the search at the “how” of the universe’s birth without asking “why” this supremely hot, supremely dense something was there to go Bang! is rather like me saying that it was the work of God. The Big Bang might indeed be the cause of everything which followed, but it cannot have caused itself. St. Thomas Aquinas says, “there is no case known (nor indeed, is it possible) in which a thing is found to be the efficient cause of itself, because in that case it would be prior to itself, which is impossible.” (Summa Theologica, Q. 2 A. 3)

For those who argue that the Big Bang itself is the first cause, they are essentially claiming that it also caused itself, and thus, it is very like a god. This is as much a statement of faith, as the Christian who claims God as the first cause. In both cases there is an admission that science has reached its limit. The Big Bang itself, becomes God, or if you prefer, that something which Banged is the cause, the creator of all.

I am arguing from the assumption that there was something which banged. Some have tried to argue that there was not something, but that the bang itself, out of pure nothingness, caused the first matter. They defend this with lab evidence of particles popping into existence from pure nothingness. But this argument is simply a play with semantics, for these particles which they claim to be popping into existence are borrowing from the energy of their surroundings, in accordance with Einstein’s E=mc2 equation. For this to happen, it requires both the presence of energy and the necessary (extremely hot) environment. This may indeed approximate many of the conditions at the time of the Big Bang, or shortly thereafter. But we cannot say that something came out of nothing, for as Einstein has taught us, energy is itself something. There comes a temperature and a density at which matter and energy are indistinguishable. Thus, cause and effect still apply, just as Aristotle taught so long before this era of quantum physics.

The existence of a first cause is absolutely necessary based on our laws of science and logic. The surprising thing which is hinted at by this truth, is that this first cause does not seem to be bound by these laws of science and logic. Either our knowledge is incomplete (a frustratingly likely possibility), or else the first cause of our universe came from a realm outside our universe and was therefore not bound by our laws (otherwise, how could it have caused itself). Though the Christian speaks of this as God, many mystics and scientists speak of similar possibilities. Whatever you want to call this something which is outside or unbound by our laws—and in that it gave what birthed our laws, it must be considered greater than those laws—it is a god, just as the Big Bang, if it effected all existence, would be a god. Is what I speak of an abstract essence outside our universe, or is it a very personal, creating God? Did the Big Bang happen by mere chance, or was it ordered and directed?
Perhaps we can discover an answer in the Big Bang itself.

This is not the place, nor am I the scribe to give a detailed narration of the Big Bang. If my reader is interested in exploring what actually happened in the moments following the universe’s inception, I would recommend Stephen Weinberg’s short but informative book “The First Three Minutes” (Basic Books, New York, 1977). Yet by discussing several of the general circumstances which have been shown to be present during the bang, it will shed light on our present question.

At the moment of the Big Bang, matter and energy were said to be infinitely dense and infinitely hot. In such terminology, theoretical physicists have blurred theory with reality since, for reasons just discussed, infinity cannot actually exist. But that it was hot and dense beyond our ability to measure or define is certain. As time and space unfurled in the bang, matter and energy (which at that density and temperature are the same thing) spread out over the new expanding universe. At that moment, existence was completely smooth, in that everything was exactly the same. It was incredibly simple. Scientists speculate that rather than the four forces we observe in nature (strong, weak, electromagnetic, and gravitational) a single unified force existed. This has not been proven, but it seems likely.

As it quickly spread and cooled, the first molecules formed. The forces separated. More molecules formed and nuclear fusion began to take place. Eventually stars and galaxies formed, a chunk expelled from a supernova became earth, and now here we are to speculate about it all.

When studying these events in detail, two remarkable facts appear. The first is how unlikely it seems that from such a chaotic expulsion of energy, the universe would have survived in a way to produce the complexity we see, and that life could have survived, even in this one tiny corner of it. If the bang had propelled things even a micro-degree faster, the solar systems would have burned up before they had a chance to form. If it had been a micro-degree slower, the gravitational forces would have crushed everything before it had the remotest chance to develop as it has. If any of the four forces had been even the tiniest bit stronger or weaker, they would not have been able to maintain balance, nuclear fusion would never have occurred, and the universe would either be nothing but free particles, or else one dense, impenetrable mass. From a mathematical perspective, the chance that it would happen as it did, must be considered a statistical impossibility. So why did it happen like it did?

The second remarkable fact may shed some light on the first. This is that the laws of science themselves developed. Why are there four forces? Why the relationship between energy and matter, between space and time? Why the marvels of chemistry and biology? Why does it work? To this question Einstein answered smugly, “I doubt the good Lord could have made it any other way!” Were these very laws what forced the Big Bang to happen in a way that allowed the universe’s survival, and life therein?

Even if we accept that it was these laws of science which forced the precision of the early universe, urging it toward complexity and life, we must ask how these laws of science arose. Could there be a potential world where science behaved differently? Or is the fact that this is the only way it can be cause not to question it, not to ask why science is how it is?
I think not. Rather, in these two remarkable facts about the Big Bang, we are pointed back to the moment of its beginning, the cause for everything which followed, including the laws of science. In any fine work of human hands, be it a building, a work of art, a symphony of music, or scientific formula, we are pointed back to the genius of the maker. So the world points us to the genius of its cause. As the artist, in his creating, is not himself limited by the same laws which govern his canvas, so that which caused the Big Bang, is not limited by the laws of science. There must necessarily be a force that is outside these laws, which causes all the subsequent effects. We spend so much time analyzing the book of science that we forget to ask who wrote it!

We find it difficult to admit to the existence of a divine being (and here divine can be defined as anything existing outside our laws, which may have caused the Big Bang), because it is so outside our realm of thought. Our laws of science cannot get us over the hump into the realm of the metaphysical. And so we keep trying to explain away God with the science he created.

We are left with a final question—Why?

Why were these laws of science written, either by God, or by conditions as they were in the universe or ante-universe, such that we could be given the gift of life? Why did the Big Bang happen at all, and why did it allow for all the wonder of our world. The answer is love.

Because of love, God gave the Big Bang as his breath of life. The first cause was goodness and love. Because of love he made certain that the statistical impossibility became a reality. And because of love, he created all the science which we use to comprehend his work… and to explain him away. Yet we can only speak of scientific law because God allows us some knowledge of his work. We cannot examine God with the same type of knowledge with which we analyze the things of this world. Doing this, we approach the implication that God is, because we can think of him. But rather the opposite is true. As St. Augustine says, God does not know us because we are, but we are because he knows us. (De Trinitate, XV. 13)

The logic of cause and effect show us that there must be a first cause, and the laws of our science and logic necessitates that the first cause be unbound by these laws. Because infinity is impossible to traverse, there must be a beginning. Through our observation of the Big Bang, we are led to conclude that its cause ordered it for success, and if so, this would be an act of love. This love, we know as God.