A Book Review for Books at a Glance
by Brendan Bollinger
Introduction
Although written in 1904, Herman Bavinck’s Christianity and Science is, in many ways, just as prescient and applicable over one hundred years later. In it, he makes a compelling argument for the unique, necessary, and inherently beneficial nature of “Christian science,” by which he means a method of scholarship and not Mary Baker Eddy’s heresy of the same name. Throughout his argument, he provides his reader with numerous helpful insights into the history and character of scholarship in the West which would greatly benefit contemporary Christian scholars, aspiring scholars, and interested laypeople.
Table of Contents
- Introduction
- How the Concept of a Christian Science Emerged
- Defects that Clung to Christian Science
- Positive Science
- Evaluation of Positivism
- Consequence of the Verdict
- The Concept of Science
- The Natural Sciences
- The Humanities
- Theological Sciences
- Revelation
- The Blessing of Christianity for Science
- A Christian University
Preliminary Thoughts
Before analyzing Christianity and Science, it is necessary to understand two key facts about the book (both of which are presented in the Editors’ Introduction). First, Bavinck wrote Christianity and Science the same year he wrote his book, Christian Worldview, which has been recently republished by Crossway. It was his intention that these two books would be companion volumes, with Christianity and Science building upon and refining the basic arguments of Christian Worldview. Therefore, for the reader to get as much from this book as possible, it should be read in conjunction with Christian Worldview. Second, the Dutch term wetenschap, translated here as “science,” is far broader than the concept of “science” in Anglophone cultures, where it is almost entirely restricted to disciplines which are dominated by the empirical method (i.e., the “hard sciences”). Wetenschap, on the other hand, is used by Bavinck to refer to any form of academic, scholarly research.
Summary
Bavinck’s book is characteristically detailed and nuanced yet clear. His crisp prose makes even his most complicated arguments comprehensible to non-specialists. The incredible scope of the book, notwithstanding its small size, is an obvious testament to the breadth of Bavinck’s knowledge—in his discussion on the practice of science, he shows himself to a scientific master in his own right, drawing from theology, philosophy, history, and cultural studies to bolster his claims.
The structure of the book is simple, and may be divided into four sections, each of which deals with a different element of science. In the introduction, Bavinck presents his reasons for writing the book and in so doing provides an apologia for the practice of Christian science (a microcosm of the rest of the book). Then, in chapters 1 and 2, he describes the genesis and early development of the Christian scientific project. Chapters 3 through 5 focus upon positivism (the predominant theory of the practice of science in the early 20th century) and contain Bavinck’s compelling critique of it. Chapters 6 through 12 are a sort of manifesto for Christian science and education, culminating in a chapter on the structure and governance of a Christian university. Instead of providing a detailed summary of each chapter, this review will instead consider each of these four sections and some of the most pertinent arguments from each.
Introduction
In his introduction, Bavinck documents the change in attitude towards science which he discerned in early the 20th century Netherlands, and outlines his reasons for writing this book. He opens by observing that “in recent years, an earnest and powerful striving to build science on the foundation of the Christian faith has been stirring” (Bavinck 2023, 41). This change in attitude toward science which had, by Bavinck’s day, long been decidedly anti-Christian in outlook, was not limited to the Netherlands (he cites Roman Catholicism’s own scientific revival as evidence). It is to support and, in part, to help direct this movement that Bavinck wrote this book.
He then gives four reasons justifying both his writing of the book and for Christian science in general (explained in detail in the Editors’ Introduction). First, the text is a sort of manifesto for the project of Christian higher education which had found clear expression in Abraham Kuyper’s founding of the Free University of Amsterdam in 1880. This project of Christian higher education went hand in hand with the impulse to practice Christian science. Second, Bavinck recognized that Roman Catholicism had far surpassed its Protestant counterparts in the practice of distinctly Christian science. Third, he sensed a growing disillusionment in his own day with empiricism and logical positivism and increasing interest in idealism and pantheism. He saw in this transition an excellent opportunity for Christianity to showcase its ability to explain and understand all parts of the created universe—both material and immaterial—without unduly mystifying them (as idealism and pantheism sought to do) or stripping them of mystery (as empiricism and logical positivism sought to do). Fourth, Bavinck discerned modernism’s desperate need for metaphysics and theology which in some measure accounted for the growing influence of Islam and Buddhism in early 20th century European culture. While Western culture faces some different challenges today than Bavinck faced in 1904, many of his observations still hold true (such as the apparent scientific supremacy of Roman Catholicism and a growing disillusionment with the hard sciences).
Chapters 1-2: The History of Christian Science
The next section focuses on the history of Christian science. Bavinck here makes many helpful observations about church history as well as some troubling comments which reflect some of the inaccurate presuppositions of Bavinck’s time (although these are far outweighed by the good). One of his most important claims has to do with the relationship between truth and science. The Patristic Church emerged in a world dominated by a powerful state, well-ordered society, and highly developed culture in which, nevertheless, “traces of decline and dissolution were already present” (Bavinck 2023, 49). These signs of decay were endemic skepticism, out of control eclecticism and syncretism, and groundless mysticism. Now, while Bavinck does not seem to do justice to the worthwhile scholarly works of this era (such as Tacitus’ Annals or the philosophical musings of Marcus Aurelius) his observations do bear some measure of truth—first-century Roman intellectual culture was marked by deep confusion and, at times, outright despisal of the truth. In this sense, Pilate’s famous question “What is truth” may be considered the anthem of his era. In this environment of rampant doubt, Christianity emerged, and its deep conviction and commitment to capital-t Truth quickly proved one of its most noteworthy distinctions. In stirring prose, Bavinck declares, “The apostles of Jesus planted the banner of truth in that world of unbelief and superstition” (Bavinck 2023, 51). This deep love and knowledge of the truth attracted many to the faith and revitalized the practice of science (for where there is no truth there can be no science).
The early church was soon faced, however, with a dilemma. What was to be done with the fruit of pagan science? Different schools of thought soon arose, contending for radically different positions. The North African School, represented by Tertullian, argued against any involvement of Christians in pagan science, famously asking “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” The Alexandrian School, represented by Cyprian and Origen, contended that pagan philosophy was useful to Christianity and should be utilized. However, their method of utilization sometimes compromised the purity of Christian teaching and resulted in a sort of unhealthy syncretism. In the end, most of the church agreed that, while pagan science was useful, it should be used critically, neither wholly accepted nor wholly rejected (the position Bavinck himself clearly agrees with).
Bavinck goes on to discuss certain accretions which clung to Christian science and, like a cancer, slowly infected the whole project. The most important of these defects was the gradual division of faith and truth. Over time, Christian scholars divided truths into natural and supernatural, with natural truths being the domain of reason and supernatural truths being the domain of faith; a troublesome division which began to fragment scholarship and drain Christianity of its intellectual credibility. Other accretions include overreliance on certain revered authorities (such as the Patristics and the Classical authors) to the exclusion of empirical research and the overreach of theology into areas outside its domain (such as biology and chemistry). While Bavinck is right to recognize these as problems, he incorrectly ascribes them to the Medieval era—a claim which reflects his era’s caricatured view of the Middle Ages as exclusively a time of simplicity, superstition, and close-mindedness (a view which has been largely debunked by contemporary scholarship, such as Seb Falk’s book The Light Ages). These problems emerged in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance era (they were not endemic to the entire Medieval period, as Bavinck seems to claim).
Chapters 3-5: The Problem of Positivism
In the third section, Bavinck considers positivism, the predominant theory of science in his day. This view understood science to be purely inductive and empirical and believed that it was the duty of the scientist to approach his research in a manner that was presuppositionless and utterly unbiased. This was, in many ways, radically different from earlier conceptions of science since, as Bavinck notes, “formerly, science was defined as an investigation into the essence and cause of things, as a rerum cognoscere causas [knowing the causes of things]. Now it must be understood as a striving to become acquainted with the relationship of things, as a rerum cognoscere nexum [knowing the connection of things]” (Bavinck 2023, 72). This “knowing the connection of things” is of course limited to the physical universe and, consequently, is entirely relative—anything supernatural can have no scientific value in such a system. Such things are relegated to the realm of subjective experience. This supposed “objectivity” convinced the positivists that science had a special authority even greater than that of religion.
However, Bavinck had multiple objections to positivism. First, by shoving the supernatural and religion into the realm of subjective experience positivism left the door open to all kinds of “so-called compensations for [the loss of] religion” including the occult, Satan worship, the cult of reason or humanity, and the altar to the unknown God (Bavinck 2023, 73). Second, Bavinck points out that positivists are still mere men, and as mere men, they are inescapably driven by empirically unverifiable presuppositions. In the case of the positivists, they believed “without proof the reliability of the senses and the objectivity of the perceivable world” (93). Third, despite positivism’s overweening sense of self-importance, it is only one interpretation of science among many others—and according to Bavinck, it isn’t even the best of these options.
Chapters 6-12: The Nature and Practice of Christian Science
In this final section (which takes up nearly half the book), Bavinck explores what science and its various sub-disciplines should look like under Christian blessing and practice. He begins by ruminating on the nature of science and makes a few key observations. Science, according to Bavinck, may be divided into two parts: scientific research and scientific results. To lose sight of either is to lose science itself. He also makes the fascinating claim that “empirical knowing knows the particular independent phenomena, but scientific knowing seeks the universal, the law, that masters them all, the idea that animates them all” (114). There is nothing revolutionary in Bavinck’s claims—even his positivist adversaries would agree with his claims thus far. Where Bavinck differs from the positivists is his belief that Christian science should be governed by Christian faith. To this end (in a passage worth quoting in full), Bavinck explains the difference between assuming, knowing, and believing:
“To assume is to take something to be true on the basis of things that the subjective self is convinced are insufficient; it is [a form of] knowing that is not objectively evident and that subjectively is not certain. To the contrary, knowing is a knowledge that is objectively evident and subjectively certain; knowing rests on grounds that are regarded as valid by everyone (perception, proving), and brings with it a certainty that excludes all doubt. Believing is taking something to be true on grounds that are sufficient for a defined subject in the given circumstances, and that make doubt appear unreasonable. It yields a knowledge that is not objectively evident for all but is still subjectively certain. Believing stands beneath knowing not in subjective assurance but in objective obviousness; if I know something, I do not have to believe it anymore” (109-110).
Bavinck then goes on to evaluate how the natural sciences, the humanities, and theology ought to be studied according to this Christian conception of science and concludes the book with three stunning chapters on (respectively) revelation, the blessing of Christianity for science, and the Christian university. This last trio of chapters is Bavinck’s mighty finale, encapsulating his argument for Christian science. It is here that he makes plain the unquestionable importance of Christ. As Bavinck notes, in general terms, “[when someone] believes in religion, and thus in the existence, the revelation, and the knowability of God, [that belief] must demand that intellect and heart, faith and science should live together in peace” (163). More specifically, when one believes in Christ and accepts his salvation and lordship through faith, that individual is changed and his approach to science must change as well. Christ’s lordship encompasses every part of the believer’s life, and the scientific pursuit is no exception. The certainty and worldview this transformation entails is a true blessing to science, in that it grounds science in the truly objective nature of reality. In fact, apart from such a foundation, science is impossible.
Bavinck fittingly concludes his book with a chapter on the Christian university. In this chapter, he offers many helpful insights into the nature of higher education (which would greatly benefit modern students and educators) and provides a sort of sketch of what a Christian university should look like. Obviously, Bavinck maintains that the Christian university should be a place where science is practiced (through research) and where others may be taught the findings and practice of science (through education). In these functions, a Christian university is certainly not inferior (and is in many ways superior) to other supposedly “neutral” universities which do not explicitly espouse a particular ideological position (for the reasons listed above in Bavinck’s treatment of positivism).
Assessment and Recommendation
Bavinck’s little book, despite its small size, astounds by its scope, sparkles with shrewd insight, and impresses one with the immense significance of Christ and Christianity for science. Perhaps the most impressive feature of the work is Bavinck’s unshakable confidence in the importance and necessity of Christian science—a conviction which would surely benefit Christian scholarship in this age of doubt. Despite suffering from some now outdated assumptions (particularly concerning the Middle Ages) Bavinck’s book remains both helpful and convicting nearly one hundred years after it was first published. The team of editors who worked upon this tome did an excellent job and their crisp translation is a worthy testament to Bavinck’s legacy. This book is an enjoyable and manageable read which would greatly benefit Christian scholars, educators, school administrators, and interested laypersons. Tolle lege!
Brendan Bollinger