Small Hops of Faith

Y'all know I love Learning and the Brain, right?  If not, welcome. This is clearly the first blog post of mine you have ever read.  One of the reasons I love following their blog is that they recognize the nuances of scientific research.  They pose a question like, "Does a student learn more when they take notes by hand than when they take them on a laptop?" The answer most often sounds like this.  "In some limited circumstances, sort of."

I love that because they do not draw absolute conclusions, knowing that the researchers tested a specific set of kids under a specific set of tightly controlled conditions.  When people ask questions of the presenters at their conferences, the answer is rarely short, and it always involves both the limitations of their research as well as their conclusions and often with a caveat to "apply it to your context in the way that works for you."  That is a scientist's answer.  If it surprises you, it may be that you have limited exposure to real science.

The TV version of science seen on The Big Bang Theory and Bones (both of which I like) and the like would have you believe that scientists are slaves to logic and, therefore, always certain of their conclusions.  It's why people were so frustrated with Dr. Fauci when they asked questions like, "When will we return to normal?" and "Will we be having traditional Christmases with our families this year?" They wanted answers of absolute certainty, and he was giving them answers that included "If . . . then" and "Assuming that there isn't a new variant at that time, then."  Those answers are perfectly normal to those of us who spend time around scientists.  If I pose a question to ten scientists in a room, I'll get at least eleven different answers.  It doesn't bother me at all because I have spent a lot of time reading and listening to scientists, but I think most people expect the fictional version in which logic is worshipped.

I have news for you.  Logic is a relatively recent invention. dating back to roughly the fifth century BC.  It's hard to imagine that there was a time when no one said, "Well that's just not logical," but there certainly was, and it was only about 3000 years ago.  It's an important tool, and many of the things in our lives certainly fall into its category, but it's important to note that not everything does.  Something can be logical and yet untrue.  I think most of us are okay with that.  What I have found really bothers people is that something can be illogical and yet still true.  

When I was a small child, I loved playing in the sandbox in my backyard.  One day, I skipped around scattering sand as though I were sowing seeds.  The following day, there were dandelions growing in those parts of the yard, and I drew the conclusion that sand was dandelion seeds. My kid logic was flawless.  There were no dandelions.  I did something.  Then, there were dandelions.  Therefore, what I did must have caused them to be there.  I don't remember how long I believed that or how I found out it wasn't true, but it obviously is not.  Conspiracy theorists take advantage of this kind of thinking to be persuasive by putting two unrelated thoughts (sand and dandelions) together and then saying something like, "It's obvious that no other conclusion can be drawn."  I have students who draw logical but incorrect conclusions pretty frequently, and they are shocked when I tell them that something can be logical and untrue at the same time.

There are also a number of things in modern science that are illogical and yet still true.  Do you want to have your mind blown?  Google the term "quantum weirdness."  There is nothing intuitive or logical about quantum mechanics.  When I tell my students that an electron can be at point A and then at point B without having been anywhere in between, I get either blank stares or complete astonishment.  I know. It doesn't make sense, right?  Even weirder, it behaves differently if we are measuring it than it does if we aren't.  There is a possibility (what's called a non-zero probability) that all the atoms in your trashcan could reside on the same part of the quantum wave function all at once and jump right off the ground or that all of the atoms in your body could align perfectly with all of the space between atoms in a wall, and you could just walk right through it.  (Don't spend a lot of time watching your trashcan or walking into walls over and over.  Non-zero probability means so close to zero that we can neglect it, but just not zero, something along the lines of a 1 in 100 billion chance.). My point here is that while none of this seems logical (string theory requires a minimum of 9 dimensions, and light behaves simultaneously as a wave and a series of particles), it is nonetheless true. Well, the jury is still out on string theory, but I want it to be true.  While we don't think of science as requiring faith, the farther we get into it, the more we recognize that there are some things we either don't yet understand or may not ever be able to understand.

Last week, I had lunch with a friend, and she was telling me about a conversation she had with a student.  The student was struggling with the problem of evil and had questions about sovereignty (with you sister, we've all struggled with those questions).  My friend had given her some Kierkegaard to read in which he addresses the point at which things must simply be accepted on the basis of faith (Can I just say at this point that I love that I have colleagues who read, enjoy, and recommend Kierkegaard and students who might actually read it?  I love my job.). My friend was wondering if it was okay to take this approach as there is so much of a push right now to counter objections to Christianity with logic and rationality.  Apologetics is important, and I do think there are people who may be persuaded toward Christianity through works like Mere Christianity and Reasonable Faith because it shows that our faith is not a leap of faith from A to Z.  

But, much like science, there are times when we must recognize that something can be true even if we do not yet understand it.  It is okay that we sometimes go from A to B and B to C and C to D with logic while recognizing that we may need faith to get from D to F.  If the smartest people in science are willing to accept that about the natural world which can mostly be observed and measured, why do we insist that all parts of the supernatural world (which cannot be) must be explainable without any reaching.  Our faith is not a blind one or one that requires huge leaps of faith all the way from beginning to end, but you aren't going to make sense of the Trinity through logic, and that is okay.  Not everything that is true is logical, and not everything that is logical is true; so you may need to make a few small hops of faith in theology just like we do with science.