One of the more provocative and influential TV series produced about “religion” was aired by the BBC back in 1984. "Sea of Faith" was presented by an Anglican priest and academic, Don Cupitt, who died in January at the age of 90. It was part personal travelogue detailing a journey from orthodox belief to technical atheism and part historical romp explaining (and in some ways excusing) that very journey. Cupitt argued that the journey was inevitable, and he had felt personally compelled to undertake it, but it paralleled one that had been undertaken by society generally. One of the implications (actually explications in large measure) was that for Christian belief either in its individual or collective forms (i.e. the church) to survive in the modern world it had to change out of all recognition. Because, as it turned out, God didn’t exist (and had never existed) as an objectively real being, Jesus was (merely) a great and inspirational teacher (but obviously couldn’t be God), and religion, particularly Christianity, was simply a system of human ethics (rather like other systems of human ethics). I watched the series at the time – I had just embarked on my own journey as a PhD student. Candidly, I wasn’t impressed. Or rather perhaps I should say I wasn’t impressed with the argument (such as it was) and conclusions. Cupitt, as may of his obituaries have noted, was “a charismatic lecturer..an engaging speaker”; “a kind and encouraging teacher” who “never spoke an uncharitable word”. And in both his approach and conclusions he was neither alone not unique. His theological thrust was a familiar one from many whose thinking developed in the 60s and 70s. It was similar in many ways to that of Jon Robinson (of “Honest to God” fame) and David Jenkins (he of “more than a conjuring trick with bones”). Both were, interestingly, like Cupitt (until 2008), members of the Church of England. But rather than slip into Monty Python parody mode (“what’s the Church of England ever done for us?”), I got to wonder whether a misunderstanding of science might have been partly responsible for Cupitt's undoing.
I was intrigued to learn that, like others in theology (Alistair McGrath comes to mind), Cupitt initially set out to study science, originally studying “Natural Sciences” at Cambridge from 1952 to 1954. Science seems to loom large in bringing about the secularisation of (mainly) western thought as well as being a (the?) major reason why orthodox belief is no longer intellectually justifiable. But what he seems to have missed is that science and Christian belief were not seen as competitors by most actual practitioners of science until relatively recently. And the idea that there is an outright conflict between them is now accepted to be an invention of the late nineteenth century. It is mainly because the teaching of science in the English speaking world is so devoid of taking time to set it properly in its historical and philosophical context (to the detriment of many a science student and the scientists that they become) that we’ve had to endure the likes of the New Atheists and their ilk. It may be that Cupitt, having had a similar number perpetrated on him, was directed down what appears to be a false trail ending in the cul-de-sac of atheism. And the influence this then has on his approach to theology is to put him firmly in the camp of the capitulators, those who believe that in the light of the “triumph” of science, theology has to completely redefine its terms of trade. Because science, as it is legitimately practised, only deals in naturalistic and material categories, these are the only ones that are available to theology too. The problem is that theology’s object of study is (or should be) the infinite, immaterial God and his doings in the world. Something had to give. Many in theology seemed to decide, without too much argument, that what had to give was God, or at least anything like the orthodox teaching about God, as revealed in Scripture, debated and developed over 1800 years of providentially guided Christian thought.
To my mind this misunderstands and miss-states science, and it is an abuse of theology (and theologians ought to stop doing it). When I embarked on an experiment in my previous incarnation as a professional scientist I did so by seeking evidence to support or refute my current provisional explanation for the current object of study. In a recent series of experiments for example, the evidence in question was specific data (eye movement timings and such) collected in specific circumstances (the experiment). I was not after any kind of ultimate explanation of everything, and as in any experiment completely ignored lots of interesting phenomena that weren’t the focus of the experiment. In this particular experiment I was interested in a specific aspect of eye movement behaviour, but not really the personal motivation of my participants (beyond the £10 they received for participating). In a different experiment their motivation could have been the focus, but not in this particular one. Neither, as a scientist who is a Christian believer, was I pretending to be uncovering the activity of God in sustaining the particular part of His universe I was investigating, even although I believed (and still do) that He has revealed that He was active in precisely such a way. But neither my hypothesis (the provisional explanation I was investigating) nor my tools were appropriate for examining or explaining the mechanism of His sustaining activity. In fact I do not and did not posses such tools, but based my belief on His revealing the fact of His sustaining activity in His Word. To that extent my belief, like my science, was based on evidence albeit a different kind of evidence obtained in a different way. But there was no clash between these two different aspects of what was going on inside my head as a Christian scientist.
In my view the explanations generated by my particular experiment (to do with the measurement of how we stop ourselves doing things) were valid and useful. Whether this is really true will be demonstrated (or not) by the work of others and until then may be taken on trust or not. What they do not and cannot do is somehow trump what God has revealed about doing or not doing things; that’s a completely different box of frogs. To jump from the very limited perspective of the naturalistic explanations of science and claim that now theological explanations derived from revelation are overthrown is ridiculous. They are different approaches, even when applied to the same phenomena in this one material world.
Time has moved on since Cupitt’s TV series, and there is some evidence theology is getting its own mojo back. Some of the weaknesses of science as a human activity have come more into view (and that’s even before it is misapplied). Cupitt, who was clearly highly educated, intelligent and talented (and for all I know a really nice bloke), should have been able to work out that theology had its own domain and task. Dialogue with, not the hegemony of, science was what was required. But he didn’t get it and it left him all at sea.
