On Monday night, August 29, 2011, during the eighth inning of Kansas City's baseball game against the Tigers in Detroit, a praying mantis temporarily stopped play before Brayan Peña of the Royals carefully rescued the insect.
Who cares?
This episode (and note that praying mantises have actually stopped play at several recent professional baseball games) paints a picture of an important concept at the very center of what has been called the struggle between science and faith. I want to use this analogy as I reach out to many who are committed to science and many who are committed to faith.
How can we understand the relationship between science and faith?
What does a praying mantis at a baseball game have to do with it?
Some of my dear friends are frustrated that I, a professional scientist, could also choose to embrace the Christian faith. They are frustrated because such a commitment would seem to mean that either I am a poor scientist (always looking for divine intervention in my experiments), or a lousy Christian (skeptical of every piece of revealed literature and every personal testimony of God at work in this world).
So how can commitment to science and commitment to faith coexist in one individual?
It's like a Cuban-born catcher stopping in the midst of a nationally-televised baseball game to gently save the life of a small, bright green insect.
Although many of us are passionate about science and its power to reveal and change the world, we must understand that science is a kind of game.
Science is not so different from baseball or football. These sports are defined by special playing fields and agreements between players and fans and referees to abide by sets of rules and principles. These rules and principles determine how the game is to be played, and how a meaningful outcome can emerge. Participants (whether players or observers) engage in sports with assumptions about the rules and outcomes. These assumptions mean that the "truth" about the game and its outcome will be officially measured in a score, and in statistics describing the measurable facts recorded during the game. These facts are measured in certain ways, by certain skilled observers. The "truth" about the final score can be verified by the observers, and by recordings during the game.
The sporting event is "true" and it results in a "true" outcome.
However, the participants understand that although the event is "true," attendance won't help them make sense of their lover's blue eyes, or their son's death at the hands of a drunk driver, or their friend's cancer diagnosis. The "truth" of the game must be understood in the context of its rules. Though specific and essential for the success of the game, these rules are meaningless off the playing field, and are powerless to provide judgment or clarity in situations at the dinner table, or in the operating room, or at the hospice.
This is not because organized sporting events are worthless or "false." It is because the "truth" of these events is defined by the rules and expectations of the participants.
Science is like that too. Science is the very best game for learning about our world when we agree to use certain kinds of tools and abide by certain kinds of rules. We use tools of accurate measurement, and we agree to rules that involve principles like reproducibility and explanations that do not invoke capricious divine intervention.
The best way to find out which of two professional baseball teams is better on a given night is to have them compete in a fairly-officiated baseball game, not to see which team can eat the most ice cream, or to ask which is most patriotic. This is not because appetite and patriotism are meaningless. It is because measurement of sports prowess is best accomplished within the rules of the game.
When the praying mantis landed on the Detroit baseball field in the fall of 2011, something remarkable happened.
Brayan Peña didn't break a rule of baseball by stopping the game to rescue a praying mantis - baseball rules don't know anything about insects. The universe of baseball doesn't have tools for measuring or describing the praying mantis. There is no statistic for number of praying mantises saved in a season.
Brayan Peña reminded us that there are "truths" beyond the "truth" of the baseball game.
We know this, but we agree to set these other "truths" aside while we enjoy baseball. We know that there are stars in the sky above the baseball field. We know that a player may be grieving the loss of his father, and that an announcer may be battling an addiction. We know that an official may be afraid about the future.
And we know that a bright green praying mantis can invade the playing field from another universe.
You see, there are "truths" that can be known in baseball, but we cannot say that these are the only "truths."
If a die-hard sports fanatic tells us that baseball statistics are the only "truths" worth knowing about the world because all other "truths" are subjective and can't be verified by the game film and records, we would be justifiably concerned about her sanity.
Science is like that. Science is the best game we have for its playing field. Science is the best way for sorting out "truths" about the measurable world, just like baseball is the best game we have for judging the skill of baseball teams.
But just as baseball isn't equipped to say anything about a praying mantis on the field, so science doesn't have the tools to tell me why I think the insect is beautiful, or whether there is another life after this...
...or why a supreme creative being would enter time as a servant and sacrifice himself for me.
I love the game of science. I love learning about the tiniest and most immense universes with tools and rules. I am in awe of what the game of science reveals about how we exist and the stunning world around us and beyond. I believe science is the best game for a playing field where we choose not to ask the "why" questions, and where we decide the only things we will admit as "true" are both measurable and reproducible. Science is a great game to play on that playing field.
But we must remember that science is just a game on a playing field. It is dangerous to believe that the playing field of science is all there is.
I need you to know that there is more. There is a beautiful, mysterious realm beyond the reach and rules of science. Faith is that world of choice where measurement and reproducibility do not define "truth." Faith is a world where, among many stories that compete for my attention, I find the one most beautiful story of all...the story of the rescue of the most worthless by the most worthy.
When a bright green praying mantis interrupted the Tigers - Royals baseball game in 2011, it reminded us that there is a "truth" beyond what baseball can measure and understand. The mantis was a visitor from a different universe so much bigger and more vibrant and interesting than the game.
Science is like that. It is fun and important. It's just that there is a much bigger universe of "truth" far beyond what science can ever understand.
The praying mantis reminds us that games aren't everything.
