John Lennox points out that this thinking confuses agency with mechanism. When we say that God is the agency behind the mechanisms in nature, we don’t stop our research. We acknowledge an ultimate cause.
J.P. Moreland says, “Final causes (the end or purpose for which a change takes place) and efficient causes (that by which change is wrought) are compatible. The fact that water is boiling can be explained by efficient causes (chemical theory) and by final causes (someone wants tea).”
Scientists make a distinction between telic (purposive) causes and efficient causes. For example, if I decide to kick a stone down a hill, I am the telic cause, and my foot is the efficient cause.
Today’s colleges teach biology students to put aside any thoughts about purpose. They insist that telic causes are irrelevant to science. However, even if scientists tried to limit their studies to efficient causes, they would still have to know which events had telic causes behind them. Otherwise they would explain how my apparent decision to kick the stone was really an efficient cause. It was merely chemicals in my brain rather than a real choice.
How will it affect our conclusions if we assume that the sun serves a purpose? Genesis 1:17 tells us that it exists to provide light for the earth. Will this stop us from studying the mechanisms that keep the sun burning in the vacuum of space?
Now, let’s exclude the idea of a preordained purpose. We will study the mechanisms and explain how the sun came about only by natural causes.
This idea of limiting science to natural causes is known as “methodological naturalism,” which is an example of the pretended neutrality fallacy. Proponents claim that it neither affirms nor denies a transcendent purpose. They don’t realize that excluding purpose as irrelevant to science presupposes that all we observe in nature is explained by efficient causes alone. This would only be true if there were no telic causes involved. Excluding purpose enforces philosophical naturalism under the guise of neutrality.
Some people say that we all use methodological naturalism in our daily lives. For example, if I lose my keys, I retrace my steps to look for them. I don’t need to speculate about supernatural causes. This does seem like methodological naturalism, doesn’t it? However, I am not excluding the supernatural as irrelevant. I acknowledge that nature itself is created and sustained by God. This explains the order of the world by which I’m able to search for my keys. Thus, I do not rely on methodological naturalism. Ever.
In the naturalist view, efficient causes came first, and purposive causes showed up later somehow. Thus, efficient causes act independently of purpose.
Theists see it the other way around. The telic cause came first, and efficient causes serve a higher purpose.
This is not a new debate. In the 300s B. C., Aristotle argued against naturalism, insisting that nature’s “manner of determination is telic.” Aristotle did speak of luck and chance in reference to human uncertainty, but he excluded chance from his types of explanation. Logically, he argued that chance is not a cause.
Aristotle eventually prevailed against naturalism in what was understood to be a philosophical debate. Theists do not prevail today, because the naturalist view is presented as neutral science. The logical argument that chance does not exist is dismissed in preference to the idea that “science” tells us it does.
For example, in the early 1900s quantum physicists concluded that down at the atomic level the logical concept of cause and effect did not apply. Particles seemed to appear, disappear, or change direction randomly.
Einstein objected to this idea, saying, “God does not play dice.”
Quantum physicist Niels Bohr chided Einstein jokingly that he should not presume to tell God what to do. How could he know how the Lord works?
Einstein was not being arrogant though; he was being logical. If something literally happened by chance, nothing caused it.
Many scientists believe that particles can pop into existence without any cause. They label this a “scientific fact.” Instead of seeing the uncertainty principle as a limitation on science, they say that science proves that chance exists. I would rather say that we don’t know why these particles act this way than to say that chance answers the question.
Now, I agree that quantum theory shows an uncertainty in nature. In quantum mechanics, even if we have complete knowledge of a particle’s position and velocity, we cannot predict exactly where it will be any time in the future. The problem is not only a lack of knowledge; there seems to be a fundamental uncertainty built into nature. To those within space/time, this would look like chance.
Christian theists would interpret the data differently though. They would say that these subatomic particles seem to move randomly, because their behavior goes beyond our ability to predict. If God stands outside of space/time, he can understand their behavior perfectly. The fact that we can estimate the probability of their movement indicates some rhyme or reason, yet beyond our comprehension.
In the naturalist view, chance is already assumed. The cosmos has no reason to do anything, so all events are ultimately a matter of chance.
From the theist view, purpose is assumed. A personal God does things for a reason. The word “chance” is only useful in a figurative sense.
Purpose and chance are metaphysical concepts. Neither one is a scientific discovery. We don’t find out empirically that chance is real or that nature has a preordained purpose. Both conclusions stem from metaphysics: our assumptions about prime reality.
Look at the Big Bang. The Big Bang theory attempts to explain how the universe came about without a supernatural cause. In the story, the whole universe was at such a small size (or no size) that it could spring into existence. How? By chance.
Wait a minute. The cosmos is supposed to be self-existent, but now chance caused the universe to come into existence. Which one do we bow down to? An impersonal cosmos cannot be the first cause, so naturalists must look to the “god” of chance. Yet, chance cannot cause anything, because it’s not a cause.
It doesn’t seem right to exclude God and allow the naturalist god of chance to remain. One of these gods makes sense of science, and the other needs to go.
