Showing posts with label cosmology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cosmology. Show all posts

Monday, May 28, 2012

NOTHING DOING


Much of the argument made by the so-called new atheists is actually against the church and religion; they ironically offer little material proof of the non-existence of God. (Christopher Hitchen’s book God is Not Great would more accurately have been titled Religion is Not Great.) I am sympathetic: The history of religion and the church is rife with one screw-up after another, and includes some very despicable characters. But no matter how much the Dawkins-Hitchens crew shares my antipathy for “religion,” this gives them no more evidence that there is no god than I have that there is.[1]  Richard Dawkins is straightforward enough to title one of the chapters in his God Delusion, “Why There Almost Certainly is No God” (emphasis mine). I don’t think Dawkins et al. realize the degree to which people of faith harbor doubts of our own. (“Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief.”) This is why I prefer the word “faith;” as Dietrich Bonhoeffer stated, “Jesus didn’t come to make us religious.” You want a slam on religion? Read the Bible! But don’t let the misbehavior and hypocrisy of the folks you find there distract you from the question of whether there is a god.[2]

I agree with Stephen Jay Gould, the late evolutionary biologist and science writer (and agnostic) who, in his book Rocks of Ages proposes that faith and science are not opponents but partners in the search for truth.  Some on both sides, however, insist on turning the conversation into an argument, and the red herring at the center of the debate is evolution.  For the person of science to say, “Evolution proves there is no god,” or the religious creationist to warn, “We must not subscribe to evolution, because if it were true it would prove there is no god,” are equally ignorant statements. Evolution is simply a theory of organic development (and a fine one) and does not touch on the primal questions of the existence of god, or creation out of nothing.

Gould the scientist taught that, by definition, science is unable to have the final word about ultimate matters of meaning, purpose, and “what was there before…?” According to Gould, “Why is there something and not nothing?” and “What was there before there was something?” are not scientific questions. Science can only work with “something.”

But in a recent book, A Universe From Nothing, cosmologist Lawrence Krauss claims to prove that quantum mechanics can, in fact, cross the bridge between nothing and something, and answer the age-old question purely scientifically. In reading his thesis, however, it turns out that what Krauss means by “nothing” is more like “nothing much.” In a clever and elegant New York Times Book Review article, the philosopher David Albert muses:

Well, let’s see. There are lots of different sorts of conversations one might want to have about a claim like that: …Where, for starters, are the laws of quantum mechanics themselves supposed to have come from? The laws of relativistic quantum field theories (on which Krauss bases his case for an “eternally persisting, elementary physical stuff of the world”)… have nothing whatsoever to say on the subject of where those fields came from, or of why the world should have consisted of the particular kinds of fields it does, or of why it should have consisted of fields at all, or of why there should have been a world in the first place.

I have often wondered why most cosmologists are apparently so incurious about the meaning of “nothing” and the question of “what was there before…?” It is often, to use an over-used phrase, the elephant in the room. I’m impressed that David Albert has tackled the elephant.

Krauss, by the way, protests that his philosophical and religious critics have co-opted the meaning of nothing. He takes issue with the fact that they apparently intend it to mean “nothing.”

In an essay entitled The Origin of the Universe, the theoretical physicist (and self-described atheist) Victor Weisskopf provides an intricate description of the instant of the primal explosion – the “Big Bang” – using mathematics and the quantum mechanics vocabulary of energy fluctuations, false vacuums, and inflation. Then he concludes,

We now come to the more philosophical question: What existed before the primal bang? …The origin of the universe can be talked about not only in scientific terms, but also in poetic and spiritual language, an approach that is complementary to the scientific one…. A remarkable musical description of the primal bang is found at the beginning of Joseph Haydn’s oratorio The Creation. A choir of angels sings darkly and softly, “And God said, ‘Let there be Light’.” The entire choir and the orchestra burst into a fortissimo C-major chord with  “And there was Light.” There cannot be a more beautiful and impressive artistic rendition of the beginning of everything.

I agree with Weisskoppf that this is poetry – poetry that is not an opponent but a partner with science in the search for truth. Why is there something rather than nothing? And what was there before there was something? The questions remain.




[2] The use of “God” in this conversation is not a reference to the Judeo-Christian divinity, but to an uncreated, infinite, non-material force or being that brought everything that is – material, energy, time – into existence. I am, of course, interested in Christianity but this is not an essay on my personal faith, and it has nothing to do with the issue at hand.


Tuesday, November 10, 2009

IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD

Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth, ... when the morning stars sang together...? ~ Job 38:7


I find a mystical connection among and between science, theology and poetry. I mean "mystical" quite literally (if the word "mystical" can, in fact, be used literally): That is, it is a connection that is difficult to get hold of or put into words (not that that's going to stop me from trying). The connection of which I speak is not the usual "dialogue" between science and religion, and it is not a covert or overt attempt to use science to prove theology or vice-versa. It is rather an interplay in which the one can almost stand in for the other, or a composition in which they sing in harmony (the harmony and the individual parts being a unity and separate at the same time). And the voice of the song -- the language that describes the interplay -- is poetry.

For the purposes of this discussion I define "science" as the limitless searchings of physics and cosmology, with infinity as the nexus at which it meets theology. "Let there be light" and the"big bang" of the primal explosion each speak of ultimate beginnings which are really penultimate (what was there before...?), and they are each metaphors -- poetic expression.

Here's one of those mystical connections: The "word" referred to in John's gospel ("In the beginning was the word") is both the utterance "let there be light" and the one who uttered it: the Word. The primal explosion of the big bang is an explosion of light -- the light brought into being by the word. Physics and Metaphysics. The element that strings it all together? Poetry. Perhaps there at the beginning before the beginning is not a micro-micro-nano-particle, but a word.

Another take: Deuteronomy reports, "The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms," and Einstein assures us of the conservation of matter and energy (nothing is lost). I am a Bible-believing Christian (the perspective from which I write), but my belief in eternal life is fed as much by the physics as by the Bible. A poetic view allows us to posit that they are saying the same thing. (As is Norman Maclean, in the absolutely beautiful last lines of A River Runs Through It: "Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.")

I am haunted by the cosmology of faith and the faith of cosmology. The language (the words) of the haunting is poetry. Here's A.R. Ammons:

This is just a place.
We go our round distance yearly in a star’s atmosphere,
turning daily into and out of direct light
and slanting through the quadrant seasons.
Deep space begins at our heels,
nearly rousing us loose.
We look up or out so high
sight’s silk almost draws us away.
This is just a place.

Currents worry themselves, coiled and free,
in airs and oceans;
Water picks up mineral shadow
and plasm into billions of designs:
frames trees, grains, bacteria.

But is love a reality we made here ourselves?
And grief – did we design that?
Or do these, like currents,
wind in and out among us merely
as we arrive and go?
This is just a place.

The reality we agree with that agrees with us,
outbounding this, arrives to touch,
joining with us from far away.
Our home, which defines us, is elsewhere
(but not so far away we have forgotten).
This is just a place.

If the conservation of matter and energy only allows for eternal life to be infinitely recycled stardust, so be it -- infinity is infinity. But if we stir in the possibility that the whole schmere is God's love project, then it is stardust held in the everlasting arms. I can live with that.

We must become more than what is left of our bodies
And will see and become what is always
Rushing toward us and around us. (David Wagoner)


citations:
A River Runs Through It, by Norman Maclean, University of Chicago Press, 2001
In Memoriam For May Noblett (This is just a place), A.R. Ammons
How It Will Be, David Wagoner