Sunday, March 8: Shirley E. Deffenbaugh

1 Corinthians 1:25. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Paul’s assertion about the nature of God evokes for me Jesus’ question, “Who do you say I am?” Paul was writing to settle a squabble in the church at Corinth, but his place in history is not my place. Each of us is called upon to answer the question, “Who is God?”

The greatest thinkers throughout the ages have proposed answers to the big questions, such as “Does God exist?” Often these discourses debate science vs. religion. Even a cursory search turns up articles like The Wall Street Journal  review of American philosopher, scientist, and psychologist William James’ Varieties of Religious Experience (see “Human Nature and the Fruits of Faith” by Joseph Epstein, September 26, 2014). As recently as February 2015, a conference held at the Vatican’s Observatory near Tucson, Arizona, explored the relationship between science and theology (www.icatholic.org/science-and-theology-combine-at-tucsons-vatican-observatory-6037486). The Observatory is run by Jesuits who are also astronomers. Many writers offer perspectives on the nature of God—Shakespeare, Milton, Rilke, Richard Rohr, Cynthia Bourgeault, Reynolds Price, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Denise Levertov, Mary Oliver, and other saints and worthies—the list is long.

One commentator, however, brings great focus for the twenty-first century seeker. In his 2014 book, The Accidental Universe: The World You thought You Knew, Alan Lightman examines the relationship between science and religion. A theoretical physicist as well as a novelist, he has authored numerous scientific papers and six novels. He’s on the faculty at Harvard and teaches creative writing at MIT where he is the first person to receive a dual faculty appointment in science and humanities. He’s a brilliant thinker and poetic writer.

In a chapter entitled “The Spiritual Universe,” he notes that he and several colleagues have for more than ten years met once a month to consider how science and art affect each other. Frequently, he says, “religion slips into the room, unbidden but persistent” (p. 38). He carefully lays out the history of the great debate and declares himself to be an atheist. Science, he says, can’t answer religious questions—they are two separate realms, but, he contends, “. . . science is not the only realm for arriving at knowledge . . . vast territories of the arts concern inner experiences that cannot be analyzed by science. The humanities, such as history and philosophy, raise questions that do not have definite or unanimously accepted answers” (pp.44-45). He believes that God doesn’t exist, yet he describes transcendent experiences beyond any explanation available from his scientific knowledge of the universe. He relates an encounter with fledgling ospreys that can only be called “spiritual,” though he doesn't call it that himself.

Yet, the question remains: “Who do I say God is?” When I ponder this question, two words always emerge—love and mystery. I have experienced love and I have experienced mystery. God is both for me.                  

—Shirley E. Deffenbaugh