God found me very late in life. I had walked out of church at the age of 14, because it didn’t make sense. We arrived back from Kenya in time for me to join the local school for O-levels, and I became committed to studying science from then on. I read Natural Sciences (Physics) at Cambridge, then came to Jodrell Bank (University of Manchester) to do my PhD in Radio Astronomy. I not only found a PhD, but also a husband at Jodrell, and went with him to Caltech when he got a postdoctoral position there.
After some visa negotiations, Caltech also found funding for me, and I started doing optical astronomy with the big telescopes at Palomar. When we returned to the UK 3 years later, I obtained more funding to work on computational astrophysics, building n-body models of galaxies to see how the stars moved to make up the shapes we see. Continue reading →
For as long as I can remember I have enjoyed finding out how things worked and exploring the world of nature. An avid reader of science books even at primary school, I rapidly progressed to experimenting with my chemistry set in the cellar of my parents’ house and even made my own fireworks! As I went on to study science for my A levels and then at University, I never felt a conflict between the world of science and my Christian faith; rather I found my wonder of God as creator increasing the more my scientific studies revealed.
I was fortunate enough to be part of a church fellowship that supported and encouraged me in my developing scientific career and enabled me to flourish both as a Christian and as a scientist. But not all Christian scientists have been so fortunate, and I have known several lose their faith because living as a Christian in the scientific workplace can be tough. Others have found it hard to admit to their colleagues that they are a follower of Jesus. My reason for writing this blog is not to pass judgement but to explore the reasons for this. I will stress the importance of the support and encouragement of the church in helping Christian scientists be open about their faith in the workplace and suggest some practical advice gleaned from my own experience. Continue reading →
Just a few days ago, the eclipse of the Moon came to an end and unusually it will be another ten years before we see a similar phenomenon. This super blood wolf Moon has been linked by some of the online religious prophets of doom to the end times or at least the chaos currently in the US. After all, they say today is the second anniversary of President Donald Trump’s inauguration, someone who also born on the day of a total lunar eclipse. Others, perhaps more convincing, are joking that the Moon is trying to hide from yet more debate on Brexit. Continue reading →
People love order. Whether it involves a garden, a filing system, or an alphabetical bookshelf, we often get a sense of satisfaction from a good tidying-up job. If you’re thinking “That description doesn’t fit me”, I bet there is at least one area of your life where you are geekily, control-freakily, organised. What about your hard drive, the ‘filing system’ that only you understand which extends off your desk onto the floor and any other available surface in the room, or even aspects of the way you store things away in your memory?
Perhaps this love of structure is why Christians tend to see randomness in nature as a bad thing. Continue reading →
When I left the full-time practice of science and turned my collar round to become a clergyman, my life changed in all sorts of ways. One important thing did not change, however, for, in both my careers, I have been concerned with the search for truth.
Religion is not just a technique for keeping our spirits up, a pious anaesthetic to dull some of the pain of real life. The central religious question is the question of truth. Of course, religion can sustain us in life, or at the approach of death, but it can only do so if it is about the way things really are. Some of the people I know who seem to me to be the most clear-eyed and unflinching in their engagement with reality are monks and nuns, people following the religious life of prayerful awareness. Continue reading →
“As a Christian at university, I was faced with a hierarchy of possibilities. The really holy people became missionaries, the rather holy people were ordained, and the fairly holy people became teachers; the ‘also rans’ did all the other jobs in the world,” so wrote R. J. Berry in his book Real Science, Real Faith. Having discovered that he either couldn’t or shouldn’t do any of the “holy” jobs, Berry, known to most as Sam, eventually realized “that we have all been given different talents and callings, and that there is not (and should not be) such a thing as a typical or normal Christian.”
Sam Berry was anything but a normal Christian. He attended his local church regularly, went to the monthly prayer meetings whenever he could, and served on the church council. For the last 30 years of his life he was licensed to preach, and for about 20 years he took part in national synod meetings. This would have been a huge commitment on top of a regular job and raising three children, but Sam was a high-capacity person who was not content to conform to the stereotype of “also-ran”—those who run races but never win. He demonstrated to the best of his ability that every single Christian is in full-time ministry.
Ruth Bancewicz is a Senior Research Associate at The Faraday Institute for Science and Religion, where she works on the positive interaction between science and faith. After studying Genetics at Aberdeen University, she completed a PhD at Edinburgh University. She spent two years as a part-time postdoctoral researcher at the Wellcome Trust Centre for Cell Biology at Edinburgh University, while also working as the Development Officer for Christians in Science. Ruth arrived at The Faraday Institute in 2006, and is currently a trustee of Christians in Science.
When we think of God’s creative activity, Christians are sometimes reluctant to think that randomness and disorder may form part of his toolkit. Motivated by an honourable desire to only associate him with the very best and most perfect means, we limit his creative activity to Victorian clockwork. But I disagree. Continue reading →