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To use science to best advantage, however, we must give it due respect just as any workman respects her tools. We must refrain from taking some stray idea and running with it heedless of the larger body of scientific theory. Those who will be most helpful are individuals trained in both science and theology, such as John Polkinghorne as one example. Those of us who aren't trained in science can poke around at the edges (which is what I've been doing here), but so much of science is so technical that we will not be able to see the deeper implications of science for theology. On the other hand and as I've written before several times, scientists who play at theology without at least some theological training only hurt themselves—the so-called new atheists being the most blatant and abusive examples.
Our ultimate goal is to discover a deeper, more meaningful personal faith for ourselves—one that is grounded in both the traditions of the church and the modern world around us. In general, Christian faiths have been largely incarnational faiths, which means that they see God in the real world around them. Incarnational faiths begin with Christ, who was a real person, and with the Holy Spirit, who we take to be involved in real lives in our real world. Ours is more of a worldly religion than not, more grounded in daily life than not. This is especially true of Protestant faiths, which generally have rejected monasticism and for the most part ignored contemplation and meditation, emphasizing instead engagement with the world through service and evangelism. For my part, I am convinced that our incarnational heritage inspires us to engage science in a positive, hopeful, and inquisitive way—seeking understanding, seeking truths.
Science is not our enemy. It is not our friend. It is just the latest in a long line of opportunities to think about God in Christ in new, culturally relevant ways. Amen.