UPDATE: Don’t miss the exchange of letters (published at New Humanist) between co-author Nicholas Beale and Anthony Grayling. Beale invited Grayling to yet another launch of their accommodationist book, but Grayling replied icily, including this paragraph about the “scandal” of launching Polkinghorne and Beale’s execrable religious book at the Royal Society.
The scandal resides in the fact that this was comparable to the premises of the Royal Society being used to promote astrology, healing with crystals, or worship of the Norse gods. For as your pamphlet yet again shows – it being familiar stuff, save for your novel but bizarre attribution of free will to nature as an “explanation” of natural evil – religious apologists are not in the same business as scientists, but wholly in the business of metaphysical casuistry: twisting, interpreting, rationalising, cherry-picking, appealing to ignorance and special pleading. It is very sad stuff you drag into the light again; if it did not rest on a continuum whose nether end lies in murder – heretics at the stake, fundamentalists wearing suicide bomb vests – it would be comic.
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I’ll deserve many encomiums if I make it through the latest theology book I’m reading (John Polkinghorne and Nicholas Beale. 2009. Questions of Truth: Fifty-one Responses to Questions about God, Science, and Belief), but it does contain lots of good stupid bits of theology. Here’s one I found within the first three pages. Of all the science-friendly theologians around, Polkie is the most odious in claiming that theology and science operate in similar ways.
It is easy to ‘prove’ that nothing can be both a wave and a particle, or that Jesus couldn’t have risen from the dead. Yet deep reflection on physics shows that all sufficiently small objects can manifest both wave and particle properties, and even superficial reflection shows that if Jesus is the Son of God in anything like the sense that Christians claim, then the resurrection is not only possible but in a certain sense necessary.
How many things can you find wrong with that quote?
Oh, and for a masterpiece of special pleading, there’s little to match Polkie and Beale’s explanation about why we can’t see obvious evidence for God in the world:
The Creator has not filled creation with items stamped “made by God.” [JAC: They thought he did before 1859.] God’s existence is not self-evident in some totally unambiguous and undeniable way. The presence of God is veiled because, when you think about it, the naked presence of divinity would overwhelm finite creatures, depriving them of truly being themselves and freely accepting God.
What is this—some kind of divine game?: “You can’t accept me freely unless you’ve done so without evidence.” And what about those finite Apostles? Were they overwhelmed and prevented from accepting God?
Polkinghorne, of course, was a theoretical physicist at Cambridge who left the university to become an Anglican priest. He is an official Sophisticated Theologian®. And he won the one-million-pound Templeton Prize in 2002.
Anthony Grayling wrote a scathing review of this book (whose publication was launched at London’s Royal Society) for The New Humanist. It’s vintage strident Grayling, and I can’t resist including the last bit:
What is not complicated, though, is the scandal that the Royal Society is allowing its premises to be used for the launch of this book. The accompanying publicity material has in the small print the statement, “This book is being launched at (not by) the Royal Society…” Indeed again. No doubt the Royal Society required this disclaimer to be entered somewhere, having reluctantly and uncomfortably felt that it had to give one of its Fellows (Polkinghorne was made one before becoming a vicar) use of its facilities because he asked. Of course the point is that Beale-Polkinghorne and their tuppence-halfpenny religious publishers wish to get as much of the respectability of the Royal Society rubbed off on them as they can. This is the strategy adopted by the Templeton Foundation too, of sidling up to proper scientists and scientific establishments and getting their sticky religious fingers on to respectable coat-sleeves in the hope of furthering their agenda – which, to repeat what must endlessly be repeated in these circumstances, is to have the superstitious lucubrations of illiterate goatherds living several thousand years ago given the same credibility as contemporary scientific research. Polkinghorne dishonours the Royal Society by exploiting his Fellowship to publicise this weak, casuistical and tendentious pamphlet on its precincts, and the Royal Society does itself no favours by allowing Polkinghorne to do it.
The good news for me is that the book is short. I know many of you think I’m wasting my time reading stuff like this, but I like to think I’m doing a service by repeatedly showing that Sophisticated Theology—of the brand touted by Terry Eagleton and supposedly ignored by Richard Dawkins and other New Atheists—is just empty and wishful thinking encased in a bunch of fancy words.