WORSHIP -- A SCIENTIST'S APPROACH
C.E.CHALLICE
PROLOGUE
The popular image of a scientist is that of an arrogant mastermind. He or she
knows so much about the mechanics of the world that he can penetrate outer
space, generate energy from the sun, compute at fantastic speeds, create life
in a test tube, or destroy the world in a nuclear explosion. But for the vast
majority of scientists the image of arrogance could not be further from the
truth. One is humbled by the vastness of the universe, by the wonder of life
and the beauty of its mechanics, and one is chastened, even frightened, by
the power that the advancing knowledge provided by science is progressively
placing in human hands. And, one way or another, the awe and wonder lead
to some form of worship.
While many scientists distance themselves from the conventional forms of
worship which we have inherited, for this scientist, and for significant numbers
of others, the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist provides a meaningful vehicle
of worship for one of a scientific mind. One is led to ponder at the way this
central act of worship of the vast majority of the Christian Church has
evolved. Only in comparatively recent years have scholars made meaningful
attempts to trace the early development of this rite, but it seems clear that the
form in which we have it today is fuller and more meaningful than the primitive
rites of the early Church, although the evidence available to us on this issue
remains contentious. Its present forms permit people of diverse perspectives
to join together in a communal worship.
In the pages which follow it is proposed to progress through a Celebration of
the Holy Eucharist as viewed by a scientist. One must be careful to avoid the
impression that this is being presented as the only way. But on the other
hand, the claim is put forward that this is a valid and acceptable, and
meaningful, way of worshiping through the Holy Eucharist. This description is
offered with two thoughts in mind; firstly in the belief that it may be of interest
to fellow scientists, where it may possibly enrich their approach to worship,
and secondly for those for whom science appears to be opposed to their
religious ideals, in the hope that they may become more understanding of the
scientist, and of his or her vision of the meaning of life
1
In our time, scientists know more about the way creation works than at any
time in the history of the Universe (or so we believe). This understanding is
the legitimate realm of the scientist. But with all this knowledge of the "How?"
of creation, most scientists are moved to contemplate the next question,
namely "Why?" Some dismiss it as a meaningless question, but many --
perhaps most -- see it as the valid question arising from the logic of the
scientific paradigm. Pursuing this, we know that the character of an artist (be
it painter, sculptor, architect, or musician) is reflected in that artist's works.
And so one looks for something or someone from which creation may
emanate. The scientist's vision of a "Creator" may well prove to be more
abstract than that of the classical theologian, but again we can claim it as a
valid image. And in the shadow of that image we contemplate our smallness,
and the way we have not always enhanced the beauty of creation, in every
way; in our interpersonal relationships and our use or misuse of our
environment. We are humbled by this thought, and humiliated, and, with the
more classical churchman, we can join in the act of humility as we view the
Source of All, afar off, and cry.
In all the great religions of the world we have the expression of this
understanding. In the ancient Jewish faith we have the story of Adam and
Eve, which tells us that the acquisition of the concept of good and evil
represents the highest development of the human mind, and placed us
humans in the community of the Creator himself. There developed the desire
to be able to escape from the burden of one's history of wrongdoing, so that it
did not damn us for eternity; so that it became possible for us to make a clean
start. We seek forgiveness, or better, justification, that is to be able to move
forward as if the sin had not occurred. Our ancient Jewish forbears were very
conscious of this, and evolved complex and expensive rituals to express
remorse and seek reconciliation. This is particularly expressed in the book
Leviticus, culminating in Chapter 16, in which we have the formulary for what
was to become the annual Day of Atonement for all Jewish people. Here the
priest transfers the sins of Jewry to an animal which is chased out into the
wilderness to die, (the "Scapegoat") and with him die the sins of the people.
Jesus gave us a much fuller vision of forgiveness in the fulfillment of that rite
(as we shall refer to later). But in our introductory rite to the Holy Eucharist we
contemplate this failing we have, and seek reconciliation with our Creator to
permit us to participate in the joy and grandeur of the later parts of our
service.
As we approach the "Gloria in Excelsis", we receive a ray of light in the
message of the Angels at the first Christmas. We have a promise of peace if
we are of "goodwill"
It is worth spending a few moments considering this problem. It proves very
difficult for some people, particularly for those from a Protestant tradition. To
attempt to put this into perspective we must review some of our history.
The Church is, and by its nature has to be, made up of a spectrum of people,
all with their differing aspirations, and all with the failings inherent inour
humanity. And there have been instances where downright evil people have
had significant positions and influence. One of the causes of the Reformation
was that the influence of the Church was being misused, both temporally and
spiritually. Christians were being told what to believe and do, and deviation
from these prescriptions brought dire consequences. The Church had
become an instrument of power, both spiritually and temporally, and this
situation was challenged by those involved in the movement of revival and
inquiry that we call the Renaissance. This led to the formation of breakaway
groups that we call the Protestant Churches, where teaching was, at least
initially, much less dogmatic, with much greater emphasis on searching the
evidence, particularly the Bible, and in forming one's own spiritual visions.
Unhappily, it was not long before these Protestant Churches became at least
equally dogmatic and prescriptive in their demands of unquestioning faith as
the pre-Reformation Church. The present writer once heard the distinguished
novelist and Christian, Dorothy Sayers, make a very telling and significant
aside during a lecture. She said that the Reformation tended to replace an
infallible Church with an infallible book, and for many of the Protestant groups
that remains so to-day. We have our literalists, who insist that the Universe
was created in six days, and although that particular vision is, by and large,
accepted as representing only the vision of the time when it was written,
every scientific finding which modifies a picture that can be derived from