A Message in the Sky

My interest in religion had taken on an interesting direction lately with a new interest in the relationship between science and religion. I like to think I have a foot in each camp; I am getting my Masters of Science In Internet Information Systems, while also serving as a religious person working at a religious mission in Haiti. Right now there is a raging debate between the scientific and religious communities, a debate that I feel is plagued with many fundamental understandings. I won’t go into too much detail, but I can petty safely say that the god the New Atheists don’t believe is in a god I also don’t believe in.

In an ideal world, I would love to have Richard Dawkins, Samuel Harris, Lawrence Krauss and all the New Atheists sit down with Francis Collins, Ian Hutchinson, Alister McGrath, and all of the scientists who hold strong religious convictions, and have an open discussion. I’ve seen conversations like this in the past, and though both parties are sitting down and talking, I don’t know how open either side really is. Most parties in this debate are well entrenched in their view point, and don’t have much incentive to secede any ground to their opponent on national television. I do think there is one place that this conversation could happen and might yield some positive results, the roof of the mission here in La Croix.

The roof here is flat and can seat thirty or forty people. I try to go up twice a day, once when the sun is setting and once when the stars are out. When the sun is setting the mountains seem to be painted with the red and purple rays of the setting sun, and every night the sky is lit up with more stars than I ever seen. The mission is the largest building within a few miles, so the roof of the looks out for miles on end, giving you a perfect view of the entire sky and surrounding landscape, and there are no electrical lights, so the stars shine brighter than I have ever seen. I’ve been up to the roof to see the sun rise as well, and its pretty breath taking, but sun rise is also when the bugs come out so its only breath taking until you’re surrounded with mosquitos.

The scenery on the roof is overwhelmingly beautiful. I’ve stayed up there for half an hour just looking around, losing all sense of time, intent on just absorbing the landscape. The surrounding land is a mix of fruit trees, open fields, and small plot farms. Every plant and animal rustles in perfect harmony; the herds of goats and cows trotting with a steady beat, the birds humming to different tones, and the wind playing out a distinctive melody through the leaves of the trees. The landscape plays like a natural symphony, with miles of mountains in the background, their color ever changing in the setting sun.

The stars create a deep sense of wonder to anyone looking at them. Groups will commonly go up to the roof to discuss the events that transpired that day. Sometimes the groups will have lively conversation, but sometimes the conversation drifts apart because everyone is to busy gazing above. The moon, whether its waxing or waning, shines enough light to make the rest of the roof visible while keeping enough sky open for the stars to shine through. At first glance, only a few stars are visible, but once one’s eyes adjust, the entire night sky lights up. The Milky Way looks like a brush stroke across a blue and black field littered with tiny stars. Every now and then a shooting star will fall to earth, gloriously ripping through the sky.

Whether an Atheist, scientifically minded Christian, or Evangelical Creationist, the Haitian night sky will give ignite anyone with a sense of wonder. The utter brilliance of the natural scenery cannot be described with words, and no matter how long you look at it, it ceases to convey a feeling of wonder and amazement. The New Atheists would describe the sky as a combination of cosmic events, and the natural scenery would be a result of Darwinian evolution. The Creationist would describe it all as an act of God, the author and creator of the universe. There are many others (including myself) who feel that each viewpoint has a unique truth ascribed to it. Yet no matter what you believe created the heavens and the physical matter around us, in the awe of the scenery around La Croix, the only feeling that comes to us is one of astonishment and admiration. The story of creation, no matter who’s telling it, seems less important than the stars or mountains it created. I would like to think that if an Atheist, a Creationist, and I were sitting on the roof, and we discussed the origins of the earth, we might focus less on who’s right and who’s wrong, and focus more on how great that creation is. Our concern will shift away from ourselves and on to the greatness around us.  

I don’t want to say that we should disregard the arguments between creationism and materialism. In order to progress, we must understand how the cosmos came to be and how humans evolved into the creatures we are today. That conversation though should not end with one side dominating the other. Neither Religion nor science has a monopoly on truth, and assuming either does degrades the value of both. Darwinian evolution doesn’t exclude the need for God, nor does the Book of Genesis discount the Big Bang Theory. Both science and religion are concerned with understanding the world around us, but today much of the conversation has shifted toward arguing one side as right and the other as wrong. Maybe, just maybe, if we were to take a step back and look at the world around us, look at the beauty alive in nature’s creation, we might find common ground where religion and science can complement each other rather than destroy each other.