But he is known to many through his discussions and debates about theism and Christianity on his YouTube channel. That is how I first came across him, and I have watched many of his videos. Despite our different areas of focus – I focus mostly on the history of discussions about God – we share the same curiosity about the arguments for and against God and Christianity. In the end, both philosophy and history are wonderful ways of making us think about the big questions.

But let’s come to the fascinating development.

Joseph has just announced his conversion – and not just to some vague theism in general, or even to general (“mere”) Christianity, but to Catholicism! I put an exclamation mark behind that sentence because, to me, this really is big news.

Yes, he cannot be said to have the same renown and public profile as the recent convert to Christianity (in late 2023), Ayaan Hirsi Ali. Far from it. But in terms of intellectual influence and online reach, Catholicism has gained a formidable convert.

All conversions are extremely interesting, and perhaps especially so when they concern intellectuals who take arguments seriously – even to the point of doing a PhD in a related field. So what made him convert? The best answer is probably to watch his video below. Feel free to watch it now, or skip it for now and continue reading:

Joseph mentioned that he had been intellectually persuaded by the rich array of theistic arguments. But none of these arguments, he says, moved him beyond agnosticism. This began to change when he started to confront the evidence for the miraculous – one of my main areas of interest!

When I was listening to him retell his story, I thought about how his arguments might come across to others – skeptics, atheists, but also non-Catholics. I thought: I might sound so strange that these were the reasons why he converted. “Really? Miracles? You mean, these miracles?!”

This kind of consternation should be expected, and it has many precedents. One could think about the reactions to the conversions of Anthony Flew, Francis Collins, or Ayaan Hirsi Ali. But, hey, Joseph’s video is just under 30 minutes long, and he barely scratches the surface. He has promised many more videos in which he will elaborate on his thinking. So there is plenty of good stuff to come!

As someone who has gone through perhaps a similar conversion myself, I know that these things take time to make sense of. I am sure that his future videos and interviews will be fascinating – not only for the intellectual world, but also for Joseph himself as he reflects on his experience and finds a good way to convey it.

There will be skeptical voices, and of course there should be. Indeed, putting them in a conversations might be one of the most interesting results. At least I think that truth (or its glimpses) emerges through our intellectual, personal, and conversational struggles. I myself might disagree with some (many?) of the things he wants to say about the arguments for God’s existence, or about miracles specifically. Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t. But I guess this is one of the great and beautiful things about the world: we can have respectful conversations with people we disagree with and still be on this intellectual journey together.

I am sure Joseph will be an interesting guide, regardless of your worldview. For now, let’s simply enjoy the fact that the world has such an interesting academic voice that we can listen to.

You can see probably some weird stuff going on. You’ve also probably identifed a demon (or the devil) in some of the panels, an angel, some strange gatherings, and a man levitating too. But let’s begin with the author himself.

The image forms a frontispiece that comes from Joseph Glanvill’s book Saducismus Triumphatus (1681). But who was Joseph Glanvill? What does the book’s unusual title mean? And what is happening in the six panels above?

The “Paranormal” Joseph Glanvill

Joseph Glanvill (1636–1680) was a fascinating figure and one of the founding members of the Royal Society, the world's oldest scientific academy, founded in 1660. Although he belonged to the Society, he was not himself a notable natural philosopher. He was an Anglican clergyman educated at Oxford, but he also published some works related to science and its history since Aristotle. He was also well acquainted with the experimental interests and work of many of his colleagues, including Robert Boyle, who is often regarded as the "father of chemistry."

Glanvill’s work is of particular interest to historians of science and religion. There are many reasons for this, but today, we focus on introducing Glanvill and his project. Speaking of him, the Encyclopaedia Britannica notes, he

There are certainly other candidates who might be considered pioneers of psychical – or paranormal – research. Nevertheless, Glanvill has indeed a plausible claim to that distinction. He became an important defender of the Royal Society and its skeptical approach to understanding the world, including religious claims. For him, being intellectually thorough meant applying skepticism even to reports that seemed to involve manifestations of the spirit world.

Glanvill was, then, a self-proclaimed skeptic and wrote several works on skepticism, including Scepsis Scientifica (“Scientific Skepticism”). For him, this form of skepticism did not carry a pejorative meaning. Instead, it encouraged inquiry and the suspension of absolute convictions about how the world works (what he called “dogmatizing”). For Glanvill – as for many people in both the past and the present – this kind of scientific skepticism was entirely compatible not only with Christian faith but also with various phenomena often described as supernatural.

Saducismus Triumphatus

Now, let us come back to Saducismus Triumphatus (1681). This work was not published by Glanvill. Rather, it was published by Glanvill’s mentor, the Cambridge philosopher Henry More, one year after Glanvill’s death. For historians, this causes a bit of complication. This is because while the book was based on Glanvill’s previous “paranomal” works written earlier, it is not clear how much are additions by More.

Some of the stories in Saducismus Triumphatus can certainly be traced back to Glanvill, but others may have been included through More’s editorial work. In short, some of the longer accounts appear to be attributable to Glanvill, while the authorship of the remaining stories remains uncertain.

Yet it was this edited collection of “spirit stories” that became widely influential, not only in Britain but also across Europe and the American colonies (for example, during the Salem witch trials of 1692–93). Many authors built upon its arguments, while numerous skeptical thinkers reacted against its claims.

So what did Glanvill think about manifestations of the spirit world? Do such phenomena point to the existence of a world beyond our own?

We have already seen that Glanvill was both a self-described skeptic and a Fellow of the Royal Society, the most prestigious scientific institution in Britain. But this did not mean that he dismissed the many reported cases of paranormal phenomena. Like many of his scientific contemporaries, he accepted those that, upon examination, appeared credible. In short, he did not blindly trust the ghost stories he encountered. Rather, he approached witness testimony with skepticism and sometimes conducted his own investigations.

Glanvill readily admitted that many stories of witchcraft and apparitions rested on weak foundations or were simply products of human imagination. He remarked that many people were “very credulous” and that there were “Ten thousand silly lying Stories of Witchcraft and Apparitions among the vulgar.”

Still, he believed that once these unreliable accounts were filtered out, an empirically interesting core would remain – one that should not, and could not, be dismissed so easily. That, in essence, was the purpose of Saducismus Triumphatus.

His position becomes clearer when one reads the full title of the book: Saducismus Triumphatus; or, Full and Plain Evidence Concerning Witches and Apparitions. In other words, Glanvill’s skepticism led him to collect and present what he regarded as “full and plain evidence” for phenomena that today are often described as paranormal.

But what does the strange title mean?

A literal translation would be Sadducism Triumphed Over. The term sadducism derives from the Sadducees, the Jewish sect mentioned in the Gospels, who rejected the immortality of the soul and, consequently, the existence of an afterlife. In a simplified form, we might therefore translate the title as The Denial of Witchcraft and Ghosts Refuted.

The word sadducism (more commonly appearing as sadduceeism) is first attested in the Oxford English Dictionary in 1577 and is defined as:

Thus, Saducissimus triumphatus set out to recount what it called “the most credible and best attested Stories of this kind” – namely stories concerning “witches and apparitions.”

But why?

Arguing for the Spirit World

Simply put, this was an attempt to counter the rising tide of skepticism about the spirit world. This did not necessarily mean atheists (the label “atheist” already existed, but it was very vague). Rather, just as there were Pharisees in the time of Jesus, there were also people who were skeptical of the existence of the spirit world, or (more frequently) of its influence on the human world.

The spirit world might be very real, but how can we know that and how it interacts with our world? For Glanvill, recounting eerie yet supposedly true stories about the spirit world provided one of the strongest arguments for its existence and its manifestations. As he put it himself:

To modern ears, this sounds like a striking inconsistency. How can someone be a skeptic – and even a Fellow of the Royal Society – while believing not only in the existence of a spirit world but also in the many extraordinary stories associated with it?

Many skeptics, including some in Glanvill’s own day, had similar doubts. A 1932 article on Glanvill expressed the point in the following way:

It would be too simple to say that investigations of the spirit world and early modern science went hand in hand. Instead, the relationship appears to have been controversial. Some supported such investigations, while others had reservations. Because of this controversy, the Royal Society did not conduct any “spirit” investigations in its official capacity. Rather, it was individual members, such as Glanvill, who pursued them.

So, to return to our original frontispiece of Saducismus Triumphatus, what six stories are depicted in its panels? I apologize for teasing you until now, but, to keep this post reasonably short, that question will have to wait until next time. There may be some spooky tales involved! Glanvill also raised many fascinating questions about science and religion that we can explore together in future posts.

Enjoy your sips,

Andrej

Good news: I’ve officially passed my viva! For those who don’t know, the viva (short for viva voce, meaning “by the living voice”) is essentially the oral examination for a doctoral thesis.

I’ve also completed the minor corrections I was asked to make to the thesis, and they’ve now been accepted. With that behind me, I’m very glad to start posting here regularly and make it a habit. I know I’ve said that before – there have already been two false starts – but I’m hoping the third time really is the charm. This time, I already have a few posts lined up, and the plan is to publish at least once a week.

For now, though, I just wanted to share a bit about the experience and my thesis.

As you might know – or perhaps guess – my field is Science and Religion. After transferring to Oxford in 2023, I was very glad to continue my research there. In the photo below, you can see my two examiners: Alister McGrath (left) and Jonathan Topham (right), both of whom work closely on the kind of topics I’ve been researching. And yes, you guessed it – the picture was taken after the viva!

Professor McGrath is one of the leading scholars in theology, especially in the field of science and religion. He’s written so many books that it’s hard to keep up with them – and I’m probably not the only one who feels that way. Professor Topham, meanwhile, is one of the foremost experts on the history of science in the nineteenth century, which is the period I focused on most in my thesis.

How Was It?

So how was my viva experience? In one sense, the viva is a very daunting prospect – but at the same time, it’s also quite an extraordinary experience to have some of the world’s leading experts read, examine and discuss the research you’ve been working on for the past several years. I had all sorts of emotions running through my mind shortly beforehand, but once the viva started, I found myself enjoying it immensely. Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to realise and savour that I was in the middle of an extraordinary life experience.

It started with a question I was hoping for:

As you might expect, after that, the questions became a bit more challenging. But as the viva went on, it gradually became a genuinely enjoyable conversation. I was not afraid of being challenged or pushed back against – as that is part of any genuinely good conversation too.

There was one strange feeling I had before meeting my examiners. Someone told me before the viva that, perhaps strangely, I should be the most knowledgeable person in the room – at least when it came to my topic. In one sense, you could say: well, yes, of course – it’s my research, after all! On the other hand, you are in a room with scholars who have devoted their careers to studying the same or closely related topics.

In short, the feedback I received was very positive – even, I would say, surprisingly positive. As I mentioned earlier – and as is usually the case – I was asked to make some minor corrections to the thesis. If the required corrections are only ‘minor’, that is pretty much the best outcome one can hope for.

How to Prepare?

From the date I submitted my thesis, I had about three months to prepare. But how do you even prepare for something like a viva? I spoke with several former doctoral students and friends who had already been through their own vivas, and I also picked up some advice from members of the teaching staff, including my supervisor. As you might expect, the general advice was to try to anticipate the kinds of sceptical or critical questions that might come up about the thesis. At the same time – as I kept hearing – it is almost impossible to predict these questions with much accuracy, and you never really know which direction the discussion will take on the day.

Still, I did manage to anticipate a couple of the questions I was actually asked, so in that sense the preparation definitely paid off. Overall, preparing for the viva can be really helpful – especially if you focus on it more intensively during the final few weeks (at least, that was my experience). Essentially, I think there are three main things one needs to know very well: (1) your thesis inside out, (2) the literature and research related to your thesis, and (3) how to defend the methodology you have used. I do not mean that these are particularly surprising observations, but it can be useful to anticipate possible questions in all of these areas.

Notice, however, what I did not mention: (4) knowing the works of your examiners. This does not mean you should not read them. But you should not do so merely for its own sake (say, to impress the examiners). As long as it is connected to the first three points, one should definitely spend some time on the fourth as well.

I also tried not only to think about my replies to anticipated questions, but to write them out as well (often in bullet points). In doing so, I discovered just how many additional points I had not included in the thesis itself, but would have liked to mention during the viva – if the opportunity arose. I also put many of my thoughts and ideas into a slide presentation. I generally enjoy working with slides because they help me organise things visually as well.

All of this paid off. There were a couple of moments when I replied with something that had emerged during this written reflection. So, in case you happen to do a viva at some point in your life, feel free to take some inspiration from this!

The One Thing

There were two things that made the day especially memorable. Apart from enjoying and passing the viva, there was also the evening spent with some of my wonderful friends. While I had no idea how the viva would end, I knew that I wanted to spend that evening with close friends regardless of the outcome. Prosecco was poured, and the rest I do not remember (okay, that’s not true). But the evening reminded me that, without friends, any success in life is ultimately meaningless. The one thing that matters is to make such achievements meaningful by sharing them with others.

At the same time, there were two people especially on my mind that day. Here is how I ended the acknowledgements section of my thesis:

And what about my research topic? I’ll leave that for a later post. For now, I’ll simply say that my work was largely a historical exploration of debates about divine action – that is, how God is said to act in the world. I have always found these discussions fascinating, so I wanted to take part in that conversation and, hopefully, contribute something small of my own.

Enjoy your sips,

Andrej

I hope you’ll see new articles coming regularly once again. I have thought about what I’d like to do in a way that would inspire both you and me. So here’s my idea. I’ve already selected dozens of images related to the history of science and religion. I will then simply use each picture to discuss what’s in it and how the historical context helps us better understand it. I’m quite a visual person and so that’s why I’d like to start this series. I hope this will also come with some surprises to you. Maybe even starting today. Let’s look at the first image then.

Image

Today’s main image comes from the frontispiece to Valentine Greatrakes, A Brief Account of Mr Valentine Greatrak's, And Divers of the Strange Cures By Him Lately Performed (1666):

The engraving was made by William Faithorne and the book is currently located at the Bodleian Library, Oxford. Its text says:

Let’s learn more about this strange and fascinating character so that we understand who he was and what is happening in the picture.

Valentine Who?

Our main character today is called Valentine Greatrakes (1628–1682). If you haven't heard of him, you shouldn't be ashamed. Many haven't. He's definitely someone good to know about. At least in the English context, he became the most famous faith-healer (or thaumaturge), challenging many assumptions of those who have heard of him. In fact, in the tumultuous world of 17th-century Europe, where science, religion, and superstition collided, few figures embodied this clash more dramatically than the figure of Valentine. Known as the 'Great Irish Stroker,' he became famous – and infamous – for his apparent ability to heal the sick through touch. His claims attracted both devout believers and harsh skeptics, sparking debates that still resonate today in discussions about faith healing, medical science, and the nature of belief itself.

The Rise of a Healer

Born in 1628 in County Waterford, Ireland, Valentine Greatrakes grew up in a world of political upheaval and deep religious convictions. After receiving a solid education, he served as a soldier in the English Civil War, fighting for Oliver Cromwell’s forces. However, after the war, Greatrakes turned to a more peaceful existence, managing his estate in a small village of Affane, in southern Ireland.

Then, in the 1660s, Greatrakes experienced what he described as a divine calling. He claimed that God had given him the power to heal people simply by laying his hands upon them. This started to happened around the year 1662. This ability, he said, was initially directed toward curing scrofula (a form of tuberculosis also known as the 'King’s Evil'), but it soon expanded to encompass a wide variety of ailments, including epilepsy, blindness, and even plague-related conditions. As he later recounted his gift in a work addressed to Robert Boyle, one of the most prominent natural philosophers of his time:

Thus, Greatrakes’ wife didn’t believe him at first (and for a long time!). She thought this divine calling was perhaps something just in his mind. But very soon, opportunities to test out this alleged gift appeared. Indeed, he started to heal people with tuberculosis successfully for a few years:

While he was initially reluctant to publicize his abilities, his fame would soon spread beyond his local neighbours and villages. His reputation started to reach England where his healings would get much more attention.

The ‘Great Irish Stroker’ in England

Word of Greatrakes’ miraculous touch spread quickly, and soon, people from all over Ireland traveled to seek his aid. Reports emerged of paralytics walking again, the blind recovering their sight, and other seemingly impossible recoveries. Was this what it looked like when Jesus was healing those around him in 1st-century Galilee? In 1665, he was summoned to Dublin for questioning by religious authorities but refused to stop his healing practice. In 1666, he was invited to England by Viscount Conway to attempt a cure on his wife, Lady Anne Conway, who suffered from chronic headaches. Though he failed to cure her, he had great success healing others, particularly in Worcester, where crowds gathered to witness his touch. As a side note, Anne Conway was in fact a very prominent female philosopher (following the so-called Cambridge Platonists) and has her own entry on Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

Soon afterward, Greatrakes was summoned to the court of King Charles II, but the king was not impressed. Greatrakes' abilities did not impress the king, whose own power to cure scrofula (a form of tuberculosis manifested on the neck) was a symbol of divine right. Despite royal skepticism, Greatrakes was celebrated by many influential figures, including scientist Robert Boyle, philosopher Ralph Cudworth, and poet Andrew Marvell.

Boyle, known for his pioneering work in chemistry and physics, carefully observed Greatrakes’ methods and noted that while some cases appeared genuine, others seemed less convincing. Others also stated that Greatrakes’ feats could be explained through natural causes or ‘in a Mechanical Manner’.

True, Tricky, or Trickery?

The rise of Greatrakes’ fame also sparked intense skepticism. Physicians of the Royal Society, the leading scientific institution of the time, were deeply divided over his claims. Some dismissed him as a charlatan, accusing him of exploiting the desperate and gullible. Others, like Boyle, acknowledged that some of his healings appeared real but sought to explain them through natural, rather than supernatural, causes.

Greatrakes’s healing methods were widely discussed in pamphlets, both supporting and criticizing his claims. In 1666, he wrote A Brief Account of Mr. Valentine Greatrak’s, whose frontispiece showed out featured image. Here, he defended his abilities with testimonials from (in his view) reputable witnesses. In the same work, we can see also a self-description of the exorcisms he performed:

Was he performing these healings and exorcisms in a direct imitation of Jesus? Indeed, historian Peter Elmer writes that there are

Numerous other sources confirm Greatrakes’ self-image as a Christ-like figure, capable of healing the sick in mind as well as body, many of whom were suffering, in Greatrakes’ eyes, from preternatural or demonically inspired maladies.

So what about his success? While he and many of his supporters rejected the idea that his healing was miraculous, some observers claimed that he had a divine or supernatural gift. Critics, including clergy members, accused him of either being a fraud or engaging in occult practices. Some compared his work to exorcisms, and a few skeptics even suspected he was involved with witchcraft. Others were suspicious, especially since his healing abilities did not seem to be tied to any particular faith or religious practice. The idea of an ordinary man performing miracles outside the official structures of the Church was troubling to many. Yet, some clergymen supported Greatrakes, seeing him as a vessel of divine power. One of the most vocal critics was Henry Stubbe, a physician and philosopher who published a scathing attack on Greatrakes in 1666 titled The Miraculous Comformist. In essence, Stubbe argued that his so-called ‘miracles’ were nothing more than psychological tricks, driven by suggestion and mass hysteria rather than divine intervention.

Greatrakes’ Legacy

After returning to Ireland in May 1666, Greatrakes continued healing but with less public visibility. He maintained several connections with key figures in London and continued to visit England periodically. His later years were mostly occupied with managing his land and financial affairs, though he still practiced healing occasionally. His financial situation remained unstable, despite his earlier success, and he relied on his confirmed Irish estates. In the end, he died in 1683 in his native Affane and was buried next to his father, despite requesting to be buried in Lismore Cathedral.

His story remains a fascinating case study in the intersection of science, religion, and the supernatural. Today, historians see him as a pivotal figure in the history of faith healing, an early example of the tension between emerging scientific methods and longstanding religious beliefs. His life raises enduring questions: Were his healings real? If so, were they miracles, natural phenomena, or merely the power of belief?

In an age where debates over alternative medicine, faith healing, and the placebo effect continue, Valentine Greatrakes serves as a reminder that the boundaries between science and faith have always been complex and often controversial. Whether saint, fraud, or something in between, the ‘Great Irish Stroker’ left a legacy that still challenges us to rethink the nature of healing and belief.

Along with today’s character, I’m wishing a very happy Valentine’s Day.

Enjoy your sips,

Andrej

(Image: Myself)

You might know Ayaan as one of the most outspoken intellectuals criticizing radical Islam as well as religion in general. In fact, she was a part of the (now defunct) New Atheism movement, although she was not a part of the so-called Four Horsemen (Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris, Dennett). Wikipedia’s entry on ‘New Atheism’ reflects this by saying:

Key figures associated with New Atheism include Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, Daniel Dennett, and Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

Significantly, however, in 2023 Ali converted to Christianity and wrote about this in her ‘Why I am now a Christian.’ This is not the place now to recount the story and I will have to look at her thinking in a future post. Luckily, she confirmed that she is still working on her book where she is reflecting on the story of her conversion. While she had announced such a book shortly after her conversion, it was good to hear that it is indeed in the making. Its title, which she mentioned yesterday during her Q&A conversation, should be called Why I am a Christian Now. You might have noticed that the title of her article as well as her book plays on the title of Bertrand Russell’s 1927 essay ‘Why I am Not a Christian.’

In her initial account of her conversion, Ayaan mentioned two reasons which could be dubbed cultural and personal. Yesterday, as could be expected, her entire talk focused on the first part. She mentioned that she had begun to speak out publicly about the dangers of Islamism after 9/11 and she could not imagine back then that more than 20 years later, we still need to be repeating some of the same points. The massacre of 7 October 2023 woke us up to this fact. A massacre that was proportionally 12 times as massive as the 2001 attack on the Twin Towers. Yet the uneducated West has not learned and it has especially not learned its history, evident in its many Western university campuses. We either do not know or pretend that we do not know how Christianity gave its values to the West and, despite all the bad things, did much good. In her 2023 “converstion article”, she admitted being deeply influenced by Tom Holland, and this could be sensed throughout her talk, along with echoes of other authors on these topics, such as Douglas Murray or Nigel Biggar.

(Image: Myself)

There was not much talk of science as far as I can remember, but there was surely plenty of talk about religion and values. One of the main problems she sees today is the disconnect of the (especially) young generation from its Christian roots. In my paraphrase, the deep concern here is that by being disconnected from them leaves us without a firm soil from which to take nutrition. Of course, there are many Christian-nutrition substitutes on offer but their success in giving people meaning is highly questionable, to say the least. She called these uprooted people ‘idiots’ and explained such use of the term etymologically – from the Greek idios, meaning ‘private’ or ‘one's own’, a person not participating in the life of the Greek poleis (for its etymology, see more ‘The Bizarre Origins of the Word Idiot’). The talk ended with the plea that we must not let the Islamists or the idiots win. Of course, there is much that I am leaving out and I am writing this only as a recollection based on a few quick bullet points. From all Ayaan’s videos I have watched, the content that resembles what she was talking about in Oxford is found in the 2024 conversation with her on Triggernometry:

Those with more analytical minds, who are interested in the reasons (evidence) for Christianity, might find her talk wanting. Ayaan has not and will never act as Alvin Plantinga or William Lane Craig, and use philosophy of religion as her main weapon of choice. Those like Richard Dawkins (also in the audience) will still push for scientific or philosophical proofs for the truth of Christianity, not just its metaphorical usefulness. But I think Ayaan is still participating in doing something like philosophy of religion in that she’s pointing out the inadequacy of what we can call narrative scientism. In other words, not only science cannot give us all the answers, but it specifically cannot give us the best stories to guide and shape our lives, communities, and civilizations. All this, of course, raises so many questions, and so the conversation will continue. And that’s great. As Ayaan mentioned twice during her talk, what we need is many “frank, eye-level” conversations.

(Image: University of Edinburgh, School of Divinity)

Andrej Zeman: Mark, you are the Andreas Idreos Professor of Science and Religion at the University of Oxford. Before I ask about the field of “science and religion”, how do you see yourself? Do you see yourself as a theologian as a scientist? Or how do you see your role?

Mark Harris: That's a great starting question, particularly because my self-identity has evolved over the years. My original career was in professional physics for some 15 years before I was trained as a theologian and was ordained in the Church of England. I started working in a parish before teaching theology and moving to Edinburgh, where I managed the University’s program in “Science and Religion“. Thus, I've gone backwards and forwards between being a scientist, a theologian, a scientist-theologian, and now I feel most comfortable describing myself as a scientist who works in a theological context. That may sound rather long-winded and pretentious, but it captures my feeling that I'm really a scientist who's interested in humanities.

AZ: How did something like the academic field of science and religion come to exist?

MH: As an academic subject, “science and religion“ is relatively recent, and we tend to trace it back to Ian Barbour's famous book of 1966, Issues in Science and Religion. But if you look at the roots of what we discuss in the subject, they go back for centuries, if not millennia through a venerable area which is often referred to as “natural theology”. This area deals with such questions as:  how do we see nature as the work of a Creator, or what kind of evidence might we expect to see in nature of that Creator? As I said, these kinds of questions have been discussed for millennia, going back to the Greek philosophers and the time of the Bible, and of course in religions throughout the world as well, not just in Judaism and Christianity. So, from that point of view, “science and religion” is a very ancient field, which makes it rather intriguing that it's only come to the fore as an academic subject over the last 50 years, where you now have academic roles such as my own, as well as academic degrees in the subject.

AZ: How widespread is the field? Can you study it in multiple places in the world?

MH: That’s another interesting question. Certainly, the scholars who write on it and go to science and religion conferences are spread throughout the world, but there's only a handful of centres of expertise that specialize in it, to the extent that they might offer a dedicated degree programme. Edinburgh is one of them, Oxford is another (in the UK). There are a few others in Europe and in the US, but it’s not very widespread as an academic subject in terms of places where you can go and study it at an advanced level. Science and religion retains, however, a very high level of interest at the popular level, even if it’s not studied so widely at the university level.

AZ: Let’s now talk about the notion of conflict. In many people's minds, science and religion have been always locked in a perpetual conflict and this sometimes called the “conflict thesis.“ But if we read the contemporary historians of science and religion, they paint a different picture of this relationship. They say this is too simplistic to say that there was nothing but this conflict model. Could you give us just a brief explanation of why this is so?

MH: The background to this conflict is very complex, so I have to be simplistic here. But this conflict explains why, even though the questions that we ask within the science and religion field have been around for thousands of years, yet it's only really been in the last, let's say, 50 years, that academic study of them as a “field” in its own right has really started to proliferate. This professionalisation of science and religion as a field has come about through the earlier professionalisation of the sciences in the previous centuries. As we know, the sciences were quickly seen as being so powerful at gaining knowledge about the world that they might even compete with other, more traditional forms of gaining knowledge about the world, such as religious thought and philosophy. Thus, this notion grew up - and began to take hold in the late 19th century – that there is conflict between science and religion. At the same time that this notion of conflict between science and religion was becoming established (in the late 19th and early 20th centuries), the idea of secular society also began to form. Today, secularism is a very prominent cultural philosophy in the Western world. Now when you look at what defines secularism, it tends to operate on the assumption that any particular religious belief must be relative to other kinds of religious and philosophical beliefs. And so, what you find is that where secularism is valued as a basis for society, then you nearly always have some sense of conflict between science and religion. You might almost say that they’re two sides of the same coin. Now, as I’ve said, that situation only really grew up in the last century or so. When you go back before that time to the birth of the scientific revolution, not only was there no such thing as secularism, but neither was there any obvious or widespread conflict between the emerging sciences and religious belief. The upshot of this historical evolution is that it's simply inaccurate to say that science and religion were in conflict in those earlier periods. 

Draper’s History of the Conflict between Religion of Science (1874), one of the famous ‘conflict’ books from the latter half of the 19th century.

AZ: So maybe we should be avoiding these extremes and say that science and religion have been always in this perpetual conflict. But maybe we shouldn't go over to the other extreme and say that science and religion are never in any conflict. Do you see that science and religion are today, at least in some instances in some conflict? Could you give us an example of this?

MH: In order to get to the example, I’ll just say a little bit more about the first part of your question. So yes, if I say that the claim science and religion are in conflict is inaccurate, it’s equally inaccurate to insist upon the opposite, that science and religion are in harmony. Very often those who challenge conflict do so because they want to put over some other agenda, perhaps promoting a religious concern over and against science and a perceived secular ideology which is antagonistic. But there are some very clear instances where scientific theories and religious beliefs clash and make conflicting claims to each other, and where you really are faced with a more cut-and-dried decision over which option to adopt. The clearest example of such “true” conflict is the creation-evolution debate, particularly in the way it's been played out in fundamentalist Christianity. And this debate is not only about propositional knowledge  - say, about the origins of life, for instance - but it also has moral and ethical implications for the ways that religious communities situate themselves against wider society. In an example like this, science and religion might be said truly to be in conflict, but the conflict is not just a simple matter of evolutionary biology versus, say, The Book of Genesis.

AZ: Tell us something about your research that you’re doing right now about quantum theology. Could you start by explaining what “quantum theology“ means?

MH: This is quite a well-established area in the science-and-religion world engaging with fundamental physics. It is trying to understand how fundamental physics tells us about the very depths of nature: What might physics say about the way that the creator God (or gods if you prefer), relate to the created world? Particularly, if physicists are right that quantum mechanics tells us about nature at its most fundamental level, then that would suggest that nature begins and ends with quantum mechanics. So, if you believe that your God has some relationship with the created world - and perhaps can even work in that world, answers prayer, for instance - then quantum mechanics should have some kind of way of informing the way that might happen. Now, one of the things that has challenged traditional religious belief, especially Christianity, since the birth of modern science, is what’s called determinism. This is the idea that if science carries on being as successful as it has been in determining the way the world works, then that gives God very little room to carry out doing things in the world: For example, to answer prayers, perform certain kinds of miracles or actions. So, if the future is effectively determined by science, it seems as though we have to push God out beyond the boundaries. Well, one of the interesting things about a dominant understanding of quantum mechanics is that it suggests that science is not deterministic, that we can't predict the future using quantum mechanics. That's another reason why theologians have been quite enthusiastic to use quantum mechanics and they’ve suggested that maybe God has some kind of room to intervene or work in the world through this kind of interventionistic form of science: quantum mechanics. That’s a very large area in theology, and I'm writing a book which is surveying this critically but also trying to be positiveas well because I think it's a noble aspiration to try to use this very difficult branch of science to do some theological work with it.

AZ:  You mentioned there are multiple ways how theologians use quantum theology. What do you think, however, about these suggested proposals? Do you think that they have legitimately good ideas, or should we be careful – if not worried – about what they’re saying?

MH: There's a number of these proposals. Sometimes these uses of quantum mechanics to describe God's relationship with the world are made very cautiously, almost like a thought experiment. A great example of this is the famous conundrum since the earliest days of Christianity: How to describe Jesus Christ as Son of God? The church councils have maintained that he is both fully divine and fully human, but how can he be both of those and one person at the same time? Does it make sense? One of the things that theologians have latched onto is the early discovery in the development of quantum mechanics that fundamental entities like electrons and light waves and so on can behave as both waves and particles depending on the way you look at them. And I should say that waves and particles can be used as analogies for the divine and the human, since waves and particles are mutually exclusive types of physical matter. The fact that we might need to use mutually-exclusive categories (wave, particle) to describe one entity (e.g. an electron) is known as complementarity. Thus, one of the things that theologians do is to use this model of wave-particle dualities — a way of talking about the humanity and divinity of Christ – as a kind of thought experiment. Now that's all very well as long as you’re cautious about it. But sometimes it's taken too far and almost as though it's “This is exactly what quantum mechanics tells us.” Then you start to run into theological problems about the way you use scientific models to make definite theological truths, for instance. So as long as you're careful and take these as rather loose metaphors, I think that you can do a certain amount of work with quantum mechanics or with science in this way.

(Image: Freepik)

AZ: Let’s connect this then with praying. Do you think it makes sense to come up with some proposals on the quantum level and to claim that this is actually how God works? Do some actually theologians claim that this is how God answers prayers? And if so, what do you think about these proposals?

MH: One of the longest-running debates in the science-and-religion field as an academic area is the question of how God works in the world. If we're assuming traditional theism where God has some kind of relationship with the world, God can answer prayer, God can do things in the world, accomplish miracles, and so on. But how does God do that? God doesn't have fingers like we have and can't move things around in the same way, but perhaps God uses the laws of nature to have some way of manipulating them. Quantum mechanics has this particularly attractive feature known as indeterminism which prevents us from seeing the future. So perhaps God, who can work at that very fundamental level, pushing particles around effectively, we would never be able to see it. Now that's a very popular model of divine action. It's called the “quantum-mechanical model of divine action”. But there are many other people working in the area of science and religion who are very unenthusiastic about it because it would appear to fall into what's often referred to as the god-of-the-gaps model. In other words, here we have a gap in our scientific knowledge, so let's put God in here and we’ll say that God works here and we wouldn't be able to see it. The trouble is that as science changes (and science is changing all the time), very often these kinds of gaps in our knowledge get closed down. So, what happens if the science of quantum mechanics changes and actually we decide that it is deterministic after all? That would then leave God with no potential mechanism or divine action. That’s why this is often seen as a problem. Having said that, the people who proposed the quantum-mechanical divine action model are well aware of the god-of-the-gaps problem, but I think that they are effectively playing around with thought experiments, affirming this theological belief in divine action: “We're not quite sure how it works, but let's try this as a kind of thought experiment”. However, we’ve always known that there are problems and limitations with thought experiments, but they’re ways of exploring our mindset and the kind of parameters we need to determine. From that point of view, I think as long as we’re aware that we’re working at the thought experiment level, these can be quite instructive things to play around with. The difficulty comes when too much is made of them, as is sometimes the case with this area.

AZ: Who would you say is your favourite figure in your field? And why is that?

MH: That's a really hard question to answer because, of course, I know many of the people currently working in the field as personal friends whom I respect very greatly. So, I'm going to suggest someone who is long dead: Sir Arthur Eddington. Eddington was a British astronomer, particularly famous for his work in the early 1900s, when with his team, he confirmed that Einstein's theory of general relativity was correct. But Eddington was also a Quaker, had very sincere Christian beliefs, and wrote and lectured prominently about his attempts to reconcile his religious faith with what he was learning as a scientist during this momentous time in physics (the developments of relativity and quantum mechanics). I especially like The Gifford Lectures that he gave at Edinburgh where he's trying to reconcile what we know about the quantum world with what he believes as a Christian. Now of course there are far more people working in this area, but he was a pioneer in his day. So, I'm particularly fond of Eddington,  his writings, and what he gave us by confirming general relativity as well as thoughts on quantum mechanics.

AZ: What are some of the books you have written and what are they about?

MH: Most of the material in my field comes through published papers, but I've written two books. The first one was a study of what biblical studies has to say to the science-and-religion debate, particularly about the notion of creation in the Bible. Then I’m one of the editors of a collected series of essays, all about philosophy, science, and religion, together with my colleague Duncan Pritchard. It’s called Philosophy, Science, and Religion for Everyone and it’s really trying to bring philosophy into the area as well as science and religion. And I'm working on a book at the moment called Theology and the Quantum World.

AZ: What would be a good resource for someone who would be interested in learning more about the field of science and religion? What would be your top pick? Is there something on the Internet you would recommend?

MH: As with everything on the Internet, there's a great deal of fantastic information out there, but also a great deal of misinformation as well, particularly on a topic like this which excites such a huge amount of public interest. So, I'm not too keen on recommending YouTube videos or things like that. This may come across as being rather dry and academic, but I personally prefer academic texts for these recommendations. I have in mind one in particular written by Professor Keith Ward from Oxford, The Big Questions in Science and Religion. And I always think that's probably the best place to start if you're interested in learning about science and religion as it’s discussed at the academic level.

Originally interviewed in 2021.

With authorization updated in 2024 for Science and Religion Café.

(Image: Midjourney)

Easter is just around the corner. There’s no way around it: Easter is primarily, historically, and culturally not about egg-related customs, or dousing combined with whipping (yes, it’s still a thing where I come from). Instead, it’s about the resurrection of Jesus. But why, in such a lawlike universe as ours, would anyone accept it not just metaphorically, but as a historical reality?

Subscribe now

Reasons for God and Jesus’ Resurrection

I’m not aware of a poll that specifically asked about the reasons people give for their belief in Jesus’ resurrection. Nor am I aware – with one exception – of a survey that would ask people about the reasons for believing (or disbelieving) in God. Of course, there are plenty of polls that regularly survey religious demographics, but these don’t include (as far as I’m aware) questions about the reasons behind their belief. The one exception I know of was carried out in 1998 by Michael Shermer (editor of the Skeptic magazine) and Frank Sulloway and is summarized in Shermer’s How We Believe (2003). The polled sample is not completely random, however, and consisted of c. 1,700 respondents to the Skeptics Society survey. Unless I’m mistaken, I take it that it was conducted among the readers of the Skeptic magazine. This included both believing and non-believing skeptics, as seen below. Here’s my summary of the results:

• Why skeptics believe in God:
  argument from design (29.2%), comfort, solace, purpose (21.3%) experience of God's presence (14.4%), need to believe in something (11.4%), no morality without God (6.4%)

• Why skeptics think other people believe in God:
  comfort, solace, purpose (21.5%), need to believe in an afterlife (17.8%), lack of exposure to science or education (13.5%), raised to believe in God (11.5%), argument from design (8.8%)

• Why skeptics don't believe in God:
  no proof for God (37.9%), no need to believe in God (13.2%), absurd to believe in God (12.1%), God is unknowable (8.3%), science provides all the answers (8.3%)

But while there hasn’t been any similar polling about the resurrection, I’d suspect that, for most, many of the reasons would overlap with at least some of those given by believers above. That is, people accept Christianity because it is a compelling, gripping, and meaning-making narrative, giving hope, joy, and light to our past, present, and future. It’s a story of forgiveness, reconciliation, and redemption. It’s a plotline where we’re not just the readers of that plot, but actors playing crucially important parts. It’s no small thing that it comes with the promise and hope of an afterlife. And such a sense-making explanation makes sense. Who wouldn’t like to be a part of such a story which is about meaning, hope, and love? Christianity captures many hearts and minds because it comes with the resurrection and all its meaning-making benefits. But are there other reasons too? Reasons that would be specifically of a historical nature? We all know the answer to that question – you bet!

Naturally, there have been many apologists as well as bonafide scholars with a relevant background in history arguing for the resurrection of Jesus. Usually, it’s been a contest between those favouring the historical evidence to show that Jesus rose from the dead versus those claiming otherwise. I’ve been following these debates (on and off) for at least the past 15 years or so, and I’ve never found either side compelling. My (completely unoriginal) view is that the reality of Jesus’ resurrection can’t be decided based on historical facts alone. There are other things that matter too. Also, it won’t be the last time that we make this observation here.

But in my following these debates, it’s been typically the case of one side arguing (rather confidently) for or against. There never seemed to be someone who’d be, so to speak, holding the middle ground. And while I think I know personally a few other prominent scholars who would occupy such a position, they’ve never been vocal about it and engaged in these resurrection debates. But there is at least one such exception and scholar par excellence – Dale Allison.

Allison: All Alone in the Middle

Dale Allison is a prominent New Testament scholar, professor at Princeton, and the author of many books on historical Jesus. Two of these books are directly concerned with our topic at hand: Resurrecting Jesus (2005) and The Resurrection of Jesus (2021). Luckily, you’ll find a lot of YouTube content featuring Allison, and so that’s one way of learning about his ideas. Recently, he’s also created this online course on historical Jesus that I’d recommend. By his own admission, he’s a church-going liberal Christian (‘I’m a Christian … but of a liberal sort’) and we’ll have him talk more about this later.

Dale Allison (Image: Princeton Theological Seminary)

Here’s the reason why I think Allison is worth listening to for anyone seriously concerned with the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection. His thoughts are provocative because he stands, in a way, in the middle. As you can imagine, that’s rarely a very peaceful position in a heated debate. If you like chocolate ice cream and your friend likes vanilla, then you might disagree on which flavour is ‘objectivelly’ the best one. But if I come then and say, ‘You know, there are more flavours than just chocolate and vanilla and so it’s a bit more complicated,’ then I’ll have not one but two sides that wouldn’t like my view. If you ask me, that’s kind of where Allison stands on the resurrection. As he himself admitted:

I'm always in the middle, all alone. But I got used to it. My wife loves me.

But I should emphasize that many on both sides have praised him exactly for his critical rigor and impartiality. For example, William Lane Craig, the foremost Christian apologist, praised Allison’s balanced treatment of the resurrection as follows:

I’ve never seen a better presentation of the case for scepticism about Jesus’ resurrection than in Allison’s Resurrecting Jesus: The Earliest Christian Tradition and Its Interpreters (New York: T. & T. Clark, 2005). He’s far more persuasive than Crossan, Lüdemann, Goulder, and the rest who actually deny the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection. That Allison should, despite his sceptical arguments, finally affirm the facts of Jesus’ burial, empty tomb, post-mortem appearances, and the origin of the disciples’ belief in Jesus’ resurrection and hold that the resurrection hypothesis is as viable an explanation as any other rival hypothesis, depending upon the worldview one brings to the investigation, is testimony to the strength of the case for Jesus’ historical resurrection.

That’s, I think, a good summary, but already here, there’s one important distinction that needs to be made: While Allison might see the resurrection hypothesis ‘as viable an explanation as any other rival hypothesis’, he doesn’t see it as a viable historical explanation. We’ll come to this point momentarily when we let Allison speak for himself.

Before we do so, we should acknowledge that we all have our biases and in that sense, we aren’t impartial. No one is and neither is Allison. But at least in his historical treatment of the resurrection narratives, he probably comes pretty close to impartiality (in my not-so-impartial view). So what does he say in his books about the value of historical investigation in bringing us to accepting the resurrection as a historical reality?

Allison in the Books

In both of his books (Resurrecting Jesus and The Resurrection of Jesus) he offers an almost identical section called ‘Coda’ where he sums up his thoughts on historical exploration as related to Christian belief. It’s very short, on three or two pages, respectively. Here are a few takeaways:

• Historical investigation will not hand us theological conclusions and such efforts are ‘frustrating.’

• This ‘frustration’ is evident not just for historians today, but ‘has an analogue of sorts in the Gospel accounts of the resurrection.’ There are several instances where the disciples either doubt in the historical Jesus and can’t recognize him despite seeing him (Matt 28:17, Luke 24:30-31, John 20:11-18, Acts 9:7).

• It’s not all about seeing and being a historian: ‘Sight is not insight; knowledge is a function of being; and religious knowledge must be a function of religious being. As the beatitude has it, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." This last is an epistemological statement, and it implies that we require more than history if we are to find the truth of things.

• Ultimately, it’s not about history at all but about human experience and faith: ‘Maybe then it is not so surprising that most who believe in Jesus' resurrection, however exactly they understand it, have as little need for modern historical criticism as birds have for ornithology. When Christians, on Easter Sunday, greet each other with the acclamation, "Christ is risen," the expected answer, "Christ is risen, indeed!" is not a statement about investigative results. ... Although ignorance should not be the mother of devotion, true religion nevertheless involves realms of human experience and conviction that cannot depend upon or be undone by the sorts of historical doubts, probabilities, and conjectures with which the previous pages have been concerned.’

As we’ll see, these thoughts will be echoed in some of his interviews where he commented on his books as well as criticisms he’s received. But is there something we learn about worldview? Yes, we do. In his The Resurrection of Jesus, he has an interesting section, where he talks about his multiple, four-fold personality:

I am, more significantly, a multiple personality. One self is pious. He says his prayers, goes to church, and tries to think theologically. His conscience is the New Testament. He venerates the great mystics, is at home in the Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom, and writes books such as The Luminous Dusk and Night Comes.

This character, however, lives alongside a critical, hard-hearted historian who knows how tough it is to apprehend the past, and how easy it is for one’s theological patriotism to get in the way. He knows that the fear of self-deception is the beginning of wisdom, and that “Abandon all certainty, ye who enter here” is the sign over the door to history. ...

Another inner voice, near kin to the wary historian, belongs to the I Don’t Know Club. He is relentlessly skeptical about almost everything, including know-it-all skepticism. ... He knows that people are always more often in error than they are in doubt, and that he cannot be the exception. ...

Yet another inner self is a Fortean. … He is incredulous that anybody’s worldview should be the final arbiter of reality. Proselytizing rationalists, who have the explanation for everything in their all-purpose, reductionistic bag of tricks, impress him no more than the magician who pulls a rabbit out of his hat. ... He holds that reality, full of magical surprises, does not obediently stay between the lines drawn by the self-appointed gurus of consensus reality. ... This countercultural fellow does not believe that the world is a reasonable place in which everything has a reasonable explanation.

All this is helpful, but still, it might be difficult to gauge what he thinks about the resurrection. There are a few snippets. For example, in Resurrecting Jesus, he writes:

although I think that the tomb was probably empty, although I am sure that the disciples saw Jesus after his death, and although I would be personally delighted to espy dramatic divine intervention in the world, I remain unconvinced [that the literal resurrection of Jesus provides the best historical explanation of the data].

Allison Beyond the Books: On Resurrection

But just from his books, it might not be immediately clear what he personally believes about the nature of Jesus’ resurrection. Thus, it is helpful that he provided some further comments in some of his YouTube interviews. One of these was on Paulogia where he was asked to provide his clarification on the resurrection. You don’t need to watch the entire interviews and, instead, you can read the relevant transcriptions provided below.

Here, Allison talks about his own view on the resurrection. He believes that Jesus’ tomb was found empty, but he’s not sure how to connect this event with theology (3:45-4:31):

I'm happy to say that I think the tomb was probably empty, but the weird part of me is that ... I'm not sure how to connect [it with the resurrection]. So, for me, life after death and victory over the grave aren't going to have anything to do with an empty tomb for anybody else and so it's really odd for me to know what to do with Jesus's tomb ... . I just don't know quite what to do with it in my own thinking. So when I say I think the tomb was probably empty I think I'm really doing that as an historian because I don't I don't know what to do with it theologically. I'm there not a traditional Christian. It's just a mystifying thing I'd be just as happy without it; maybe happier without it.

He goes on to respond to the charge that while he’s not a post-modernist, he’s influenced by post-modernism (4:53-6:39):

I am an old-fashioned follower of Socrates and Socrates correctly interpreted the Oracle of Delphi: The wisest person in the world is the person who knows he knows nothing. That's not a post-modern take. That's somebody from the ancient world who's looking around and realizes that things are very complex, very complicated. We have finite minds and we don't understand a lot. And for me, it's actually worse because I'm a Christian … and I'm very attracted to apophatic theology. I'm really attracted to the parts of the Christian tradition that are mystical; I'm very attracted to liturgical lines which refer to mystery. So no, this is not post-modernism. This is, I'd like to think, genuine traditional epistemic modesty. It also comes from reflecting upon the fact that I have certain academic heroes and people that I admire and these would include … Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Pascal, Gregory of Nissa, and you could come up into modern times. You could put John Locke, maybe you want to put Einstein in the room. Aldous Huxley is one of my favorites [as well as] William James. You put them in a room and ask: “What do they all agree on?” So, these are my heroes, these are my lights, and they disagree among themselves on absolutely everything. So the notion that I, sitting here at my little studio, have figured everything out is actually preposterous. It makes no sense to me whatsoever. So I'm just grasping … at little pieces. I don't have the whole picture of anything and this is genuine and heartfelt and has nothing to do with post-modernism.

Not By History Alone

As we saw previously, he makes it again clear why history can only get us so far. There’s always an epistemic leap, based on other considerations, that one needs to make either to accept or reject the resurrection (7:30-8:34)

I, as an historian (and as I argue in the book), say that I think that a Christian can look at all the evidence and feel okay. And I think that a skeptic can look at all the evidence and feel okay – by which I mean be unmoved … to change your mind. So the idea that an atheist could objectively just study history and be converted to the belief Jesus rose from the dead doesn't make sense to me, even though occasionally someone will say that. And then the other view doesn't make sense to me – that you believe in Christianity and then you just read historians and you think purely like an historian and you make a decision that could never have happened. I think other things are always at play here – philosophical issues are always at play, social psychology is always at play, your family history is always at play, everything's at play and people aren't making your pure historical moves. And if they were capable of doing so, I personally don't think from where I stand that they're going to get very far.

There are a few other excerpts below from the following interview on Potential Theism where Allison reiterates his basic points, although in different words:

On his view, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to convince a skeptic that Jesus was resurrected just by examining history (2:55-3:58)

How strange is it that people can go back 2,000 years and look at our or five sources [the gospels and the apostle Paul] ... and convince an uninterested audience or an open-minded person exactly what happened. I don't think it's very likely that that's going to be the case. ... I end up concluding that if you want to take a Christian interpretation of these events, nothing prevents you from doing so ... [but], on the other hand, ... I don't see how you can prove to a skeptic that Jesus was raised from the dead.

Indeed, such a conclusion is not for historians to decide (4:13-5:42):

I think that your view of the Resurrection isn't going to be determined simply by historical considerations. I think there are all sorts of other things going on, for example, I know that there are many people who don't believe in miracles, and for them, that's just a surety they don't happen. That's it. And if you start with that I don't see how the evidence in the New Testament is going to overthrow that in and of itself. There are larger questions here besides the historical evidence from the New Testament there are larger questions about the nature of the world, the nature of God, if there is a God, what can and cannot happen in the world, what does and does not happen in the world and so on. There are just so many other questions and they influence how you construct the data, how you interpret the text, how you approach everything. So when you take that into mind, it's not confusing at all that there's a spectrum of opinions and different explanations and so on that's just what you would expect from what is, in essence, an event that took place 2,000 years ago for which we do not have an abundance of evidence. It's nothing like the Kennedy assassination, and as I said, I'm still kind of uncertain about what exactly happened on that occasion.

The historical data don’t force a historian to choose a particular position on the resurrection (11:27-11:58):

The point is that you can take the data and you can interpret it, or configure it, in multiple ways. So for me, the big question, after you get done with history, is worldview, and what you think of God, or what are the possibility of miracles, and so on and so on. But the historical facts, the data you can uncover, do not seem to me to force you to be a skeptic and they don't force you to be a Christian of some sort.

Here, Allison was asked what he thinks about the nature of Jesus’ resurrection and what he’d reply to those who might question his Christian faith (15:36-17:40):

I would hope that people would respect my conviction that I am a Christian: I teach at a seminary, I go to church, I'm very pious in my own ways, I have a rather lengthy and complex prayer and meditation routine I'm involved in every day, I've spent my whole life studying Christian scriptures, my favorite people in the world are all Christian figures. So I don't really understand this sort of slander. But maybe I'm just confusing because maybe there are people out there who don't think that liberal Christians can be Christians or somebody like me who can say: "Well, I think the tomb was empty and if God did it fine; if it turns out not to be empty then that doesn't trouble me." I personally have philosophical questions about the relevance of human bodies in the world to come or in the afterlife and I'm just being honest about those questions and my doubts. So I just end up being confused about some things but I'm confused about lots of things. I'm not certain about very many things. I have lots of hopes, I have lots of dreams, I have convictions, but I'm sure I'm wrong about many things. And if somebody wants to say, well, he can't be a Christian because he's confused about what exactly risen bodies are or he doesn't really want the tomb to be empty or thinks it might be okay theologically if it wasn't... Well, look that's for other people I guess to to worry about. I'm just being honest that's all I'm doing.

In the end, I think it’s fair to say that Allison’s thinking and conclusion can be boiled down to this simple statement (41:26-42:12):

'The are multiple options here. There's also just the option of saying, This is really interesting; I'm not quite sure what happened. And I think somebody who is educated and well-informed can do that. And then probably what they think about the text or this tradition or this story is going to be dictated by things beyond their historical excavation uh Christianity is much larger than just just what you can prove historically how could it not be? Heck, Christians believe in God! How do you prove God historically? How do historians establish that there is a God makes no sense.

Important Lone Voice?

So, what should we make of all this? That’s, of course, a question that’s left up to each of us. In my view, Allison provides a doubly skeptical, yet reasonable, erudite, and cautious voice in the resurrection-debate wilderness. As must be clear, there are many other writers who have pointed out the importance of the worldview assumptions we bring to the debate. If one already believes in God who is, at least in principle, capable of resurrecting Jesus, then that can be a real game-changer. But, in Allison’s estimate, it doesn’t work the other way round: the gospel stories (and Paul) by themselves can’t demonstrate that Jesus was resurrected and that, in turn, there must be a divine Resurrector. These seem to be two different strategies: Do we have to start with God or can we start with the gospels? It’s quite clear which side Allison favours. And while we can’t simply choose by pressing a mental switch which strategy we prefer, we can – and perhaps should – reflect upon them. I think that if we met Socrates, he’d have a few questions about why we accept or reject Jesus’ resurrection. Perhaps in such an encounter, our answers might turn out to be not thoroughly thought out.

Enjoy your sips,

Andrej

The internet knows well that Dwight has been the source of many memorable moments, jokes, and quotes:

But, of course, there’s a real actor behind Dwight and he’s Rainn Wilson. And just as is the case with any character on any show, you could never guess his real life’s journey. It’s an oversimplification missing in all the details, but Rainn was raised in the Baháʼí Faith, left it in his 20s, only to come back to it again. Many puzzle pieces of his spiritual journey have been new to me and I’m glad that I’ve caught up. In many ways, I’m writing this post so that you can catch up too.

Subscribe now

Last year, Rainn wrote about his thinking on spirituality and religion in his book Soul Boom: Why We Need a Spiritual Revolution (2023). However, it’s not a memoir per se. He authored it in 2015 under the title The Bassoon King: Art, Idiocy, and Other Sordid Tales from the Band Room. So if you’re looking for a book on his life and career, this is the place to go. It’s a story from Rainn’s birth to his starring in The Office and beyond. But Soul Boom is different. As the blurb on his website states:

The trauma that our struggling species has experienced in recent years—because of both the pandemic and societal tensions that threaten to overwhelm us—is not going away anytime soon. Existing political and economic systems are not enough to bring the change that the world needs. In this book, Rainn Wilson explores the possibility and hope for a spiritual revolution, a “Soul Boom,” to find a healing transformation on both a personal and global level.

While the book eventually came out in 2023, he started writing it ‘during the early weeks of the COVID-19 quarantine.’ He saw that time as an opportunity worth taking up:

Hours and hours of free time to vomit forth a potpourri of ideas on all my favorite topics: the journey of the soul, life after death, the Big Guy Upstairs, and the personal and universal spiritual transformation of society!

I’ll mention some of its ideas in what follows. For now, if you’d like to learn a short, 4-minute summary of his spiritual journey, you can watch this 2011 video on Big Think:

As he mentioned in this clip, it was already in 2010 when Rainn wrote his first book, Soul Pancake: Chew On Life’s Big Questions. This was based on a project with the same name. So what are the aims of SoulPancake? Its website states:

Founded in 2008 by Rainn Wilson, Devon Gundry, Shabnam Mogharabi and Golriz Lucina, SoulPancake was created to encourage open-hearted dialogue about what it means to be human. Throughout the years, we created content that explores the ways we all seek connection, hope, truth, identity, and purpose.

Or as he puts it in his Soul Boom:

The same “Life’s Big Questions” that haunted me in my twenties was the inspirational cornerstone that led to my eventual founding of SoulPancake, a website, YouTube channel, and production studio that specialized in creating uplifting content and sparking dialogue about the beauty and drama of being a human. Our best-selling book, SoulPancake: Chew on Life’s Big Questions, was a creative workbook based on many of the profound spiritual issues and inquiries I grappled with in my youth and continue to wrestle with in the following pages.

I’ve actually watched a couple of these videos made by SoulPancake, but back then, I didn’t realize that Rainn’s mind was behind them. Here’s my favourite one that I remember well, on gratitude:

I learned about Rainn’s richer background and interest in religion(s) some two years ago when I came across the first episodes of his podcast Metaphysical Milkshake (co-hosted by the sociologist of religion Reza Aslan). His podcast features many guests on many diverse topics so it’s indeed a veritable milkshake. It’s something you might want to explore as well if you’re interested in Rainn and the questions he likes to explore. I’ve listened to only a few of them and it’s been some time ago now, so I wouldn’t like to comment on them too much. Here’s just a short, 2-minute, intro to the podcast which might convey its vibe:

YouTube features quite a lot of videos where Rainn talks about his spiritual journey. He has also, for example, four longer (40-60 minutes) talks for Talks at Google, but if you have just 20 minutes to learn more about his life & journey, you could listen to this one:

As a fan of The Office, I like how Rainn captured here probably the experience of many when he described the effects the series has had on its viewers:

The greater service is that we made people laugh. And I tell you it has been so such a bomb to my heart to hear from people over the years how much The Office has meant to them. It's cheered their hearts – they were going through a hard time; they were dealing with anxiety or depression; their parents were getting a divorce; someone in the family was sick. ... The Office brought them solace and brought them joy.

But let’s get still back to Soul Boom for a while. This is not a review at all, but rather just a few interesting bits and pieces from the book that at least partially reveal how Rainn thinks about God, science, and religion.

As we’ve already mentioned, it offers his reflections on spirituality which he defines (and contrasts with other meanings) in the opening pages:

The word “spirituality,” as the Oxford English Dictionary defines it, means “the quality of being concerned with the human spirit or soul as opposed to material or physical things.” This is exactly what I’m talking about. Way to go, OED!

As the subtitle of Soul Boom implies, he is interested in what he calls a ‘spiritual revolution’, leading to the betterment of humanity. In a later chapter, dealing with such a revolution, he offers ‘seven pillars.’ I won’t comment on them further but here they are:

1. Create a new mythology.
2. Celebrate joy and fight cynicism.
3. Destroy adversarial systems.
4. Build something new; don’t just protest.
5. Systematize grassroots movements.
6. Invest in virtues education.
7. Harness radical compassion.

Many of these as well as his reflections in general offer good general and concrete advice on how to think about things in our lives differently. (However, I’d question a few things, such as, whether we need to create a new mythology of humanity.) Many stories, examples, and metaphors are worth the read and they might truly give you some good insights you might be inspired by.

Now, the topic of our primary interest: What about Rainn’s thoughts on science and religion? In one section (in chapter 4), he writes that the discussions on the existence of God are futile:

In case you were wondering, this section is not going to be like one of those videos where a God-believer and an atheist sit on a stage in front of a partisan audience (who already have their minds made up) and have an argument about whether God exists or not. Those discussions are pointless. Just read the comments sections underneath the videos. No one has ever changed their mind about something as colossal as the Supreme Being because of who scored more points in an argument on YouTube, no matter how articulate the speakers might be.

Well, there might be some truth to this, but are all these interactions pointless? And is success measured by the number of instantly changed worldviews? Or by what people write in YouTube comments? Some changes might be partial, gradual, and require a longer period of reflection on what one just heard. Or it might point one to a relevant book or article which that provide one with further thinking. Maybe it could could lead to a later insightful conversation with a friend thanks to those online discussions. I myself have changed my mind on several non-trivial things over the years as a result of watching online content, and so I’m not so pessimistic at all. Admittedly, I like friendly conversations much more than the debate format, and in that, I can sympathize with Rainn. But I digress so let’s get back to his thoughts. When it comes to the relationship of science and religion, he finds it somewhat strained:

Science. I mean, who doesn’t love the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation and experimentation! Unfortunately, throughout the ages science has frequently been positioned as being in opposition to faith.

Indeed, he finds a lot sympathy with atheists and the arguments made by them:

Atheists have rejected so many of the obvious hypocrisies, corruptions, and especially nonsensically literal interpretations of symbols and metaphors in most of the world’s religions. At tremendous risk of pissing off every single religious faith in the world, I would simply offer you some examples of these superstitions:

• Elephant-shaped gods

• The reincarnation of “bad” human beings into cockroaches

• People being turned willy-nilly into pillars of salt

• Magical enlightenment under trees

• Burning bushes that talk to you

• Jesus’s body floating away after three days to be with his dad

• Mohammed riding a winged horse back and forth to Jerusalem in a night

Besides all the mythological stories, atheists have sooo many very good reasons to not believe in God!

So what are these reasons? As you can imagine, the list includes the traditional culprits:

For instance, from the dawn of time, religion has caused innumerable wars and incalculable deaths. All in an “all-loving” God’s name! From the crusades to the mass exterminations of “nonbelievers” during the first centuries of colonialism to the Spanish Inquisition. From 9/11 to the Iran-Iraq war to Hindu mob violence against Muslims in India to armed Buddhist terrorists setting off bombs in Sri Lanka. No religious faith has escaped this violence. Not to mention the endless list of holy genocides, holy wars, and holy pogroms that have preceded recorded history.

And let’s not forget that God-people seem to be so weirdly antiscience at times! I mean, why this recent bizarre connection in evangelical circles between believing in Jesus and disbelieving in vaccines?!

Shortly after this, we find a section ‘The Case Against God.’ Here, it seems that the ultimate problem is – you guessed it – the problem of evil/suffering:

How do we rectify a Creator that would hand out so much personal tragedy? Grotesque, painful things happening to good and kind people. Heartbreaking.

He goes on to offer three areas of reflection on the problem of evil (1. Where exactly does human responsibility end and God’s hand begin? 2. Could suffering have an intangible upside? 3. Is there a scientific case for suffering?). Eventually, he ends the section on a rather optimistic note:

In summation, perhaps suffering, tests, and difficulties are actually the reason for this material existence, and finding joy while in the midst of them is our life’s greatest and most important challenge.

(Image: The Office Wiki)

Of course, as is it obvious by now, Rainn is not an atheist and follows this with a section ‘Why I Am Not an Atheist.’ So… why not?

If respect atheists so much, then why am I not one, you might be asking yourself. I will dodge that answer with a poem:

To be alive: not just the carcass
But the spark.
That’s crudely put, but...
If we’re not supposed to dance,
Why all this music?

— Gregory Orr

Despite this seeming avoidance, he gets back to it soon. He has at least one good reason after all:

So back to the question I’ve been dodging. Why am I not an atheist? Because, according to materialist doctrine, at the end of the day this would mean that there is only “stuff.” Things. Specks. Atoms. Chunks. Molecules. Matter. Plus a little dark matter thrown in. Energy flitting about in between. Stuff that seemingly created itself. A universe that came into being on its own for some completely unknown and ultimately unknowable reason some 13.8 billion years ago. This leads me down the rabbit hole of, “Well, why is there anything at all? Why is there something? Why is there not just nothing?” ... The Nobel Prize–winnin? physicist Max Planck put it this way: “All matter originates and exists only by virtue of a force. We must assume behind this force the existence of a conscious and intelligent Mind.”

Butt-loads and butt-loads of stuff just popping into existence on its own for no reason simply makes no sense to me. It feels like its own kind of science-based superstition. I “believe” that matter, heat, energy, neutrons, protons, electrons, light, gravity, and time just burst forth from a single point because... well, it just did. That’s just how it is. There is stuff. Period. Case closed. An entire universe of infinite complexity was born in a heartbeat because... science. Really? Sorry, but it feels like a bit of a stretch.

So although Rainn doesn’t seem to like the traditional arguments (or perhaps debates) for and against God’s existence, he is, as we’ve just seen, convinced by the power of the cosmological argument. Yet, there might not be one reason but two. This time, connected to the meaning of life and the universe:

Plus, then it’s all so meaningless! And in a world where we humans are wired for some unknown reason (thanks, consciousness!) to be incessantly searching, questing, longing for meaning, it just doesn’t add up!

But what kind of God does this point to? Here’s what he thinks:

Perhaps we ought to spend less time thinking of this creative force as a what and more like a how—how to live in this world with radiance, humility, a spirit of service, and a sacred harmony. A God that emanates divine qualities in the same way that pesky spiritual metaphor in the sky, the sun, emanates light, heat, and healing.

Perhaps God could not even be considered as something distinct or separate from what He has fashioned but rather as the sum of creation. The fifteenth-century philosopher Nicholas of Cusa had an indelible and unforgettable way of framing the conception of the Creator. He once said, “Divinity is in all things in such a way that all things are in divinity.” He spoke of a God “whose center, so to speak, is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.”

There would be, of course, much to say on each of these points if commentary was needed! But there isn’t, at least not now. All that remains to say is that Soul Boom is a captivating, well-written, and thought-provoking book with plenty of good ‘spiritual’ food for thought. And, well, it’s written by Dwight. I mean, by Rainn.

I hope you now know a bit more about the guy who played Dwight. Perhaps it will make your next (re)watching of The Office more interesting, knowing that there’s much more to Dwight than what the screen was able to show. To me, it doesn’t matter whether and to what extent we agree with Rainn in what he thinks about God or the ‘God arguments.’ At least to me, it’s refreshing to know that actors like him are not just 2D characters who are not interested in the big questions of life. And while I’m not sure if the book will spark a spiritual revolution, it should definitely start at least a couple of revolutions in your brain.

(Image: Wikipedia)

The Big Bang Theory (TBBT, 2007-2019) became a truly enjoyable show, not just for the science nerds out there, but for many who just want a good series and to be entertained. Already in 2017 – while TBBT was still airing – a new spin-off saw the light of the world. This was, of course, Young Sheldon (YS). Currently, YS is airing its seventh and final season. I’ve been a fan of both shows and although all good series eventually come to an end, the best ones will be those we can happily rewatch and that will age well. It speaks well of them that both TBBT and YS have enjoyed very good ratings as shown in the stats below (as of March 2024):

• TBBT: 8.1 (IMDb), 81% and 83% (Rotten Tomatoes)

• YS: 7.6 (IMDb), 83% (Rotten Tomatoes)

For a quick comparison, the top TV series on IMDb is Breaking Bad with a rating of 9.5, and The Office (one of my all-time favourites) is ranked 27th, scoring 9.0. So while TBBT and YS don’t hit those numbers and wouldn’t make it even to the IMDb’s list of Top 250 TV Shows, they’ve been definitely very successful, which is evidenced by the number of viewers. According to Movie Web, YS was at its peak during its first two seasons, when it overlapped with TBBT. To quote from the website:

Young Sheldon has had an impressive run, but unlike Big Bang Theory, which saw a rise and a steady average final season in the double-digit millions, Young Sheldon started strong but did have a notable fall. Season 1 had an average viewership of 16.30 million viewers, but by Season 4, it dropped below, averaging 10 million viewers. It is still an impressive run, with Seasons 4 through 6 averaging above 9 million viewers.

Again, for comparison, Wikipedia says that the series finale of The Office (in 2013), ‘was viewed by an estimated 5.7 million viewers.’ The point of all these numbers is that both TBBT and YS have been viewed by millions. That is, surely also by millions of people who wouldn’t be fact-checking what these series have to say about history, including that of science and religion. We watch a good series to be entertained, not to be engaged in critical thinking. But my hunch is also that the viewers would be, consciously or unconsciously, trusting Sheldon (both his young and adult version) regardless of the nature of the facts because of who he represents in the show – a super smart scientist, albeit a very quirky one.

It is especially YS that touches on many questions related to a belief in God, and the relationship between science and religion. This can be seen already in this 3-minute scene from one of its very early episodes (season 1, episode 3, ‘Poker, Faith, and Eggs’):

You might agree that that’s some good and fun scripting! However, if we took this a bit more seriously, there would be a lot of things to comment on (yes, notably, of course, whether God is a photon). But today, I’ll want to head in a different direction: What about the checking of scientific and other claims in these popular series?

Generally, both series should be well fact-checked. This is because their science consultant and fact-checker has been a UCLA physics professor David Saltzberg. It would seem, then, that the biggest scientific inaccuracies wouldn’t get on TV. For example, in one interview, Saltzberg mentions a few rather minor errors that got caught, or some, like getting a scientist’s name wrong, that were not caught. (Incidentally, Saltzberg was also a fact-checking consultant for the recent multi-Oscar-winning film Oppenheimer).

But even if the shows check for physics-related stuff, do they check (or care about) other things? Others have noted inconsistencies between TBBT and YS, but this is not what I have in mind. Here’s what I mean. What follows, is (to me) the most notable history-of-science-and-religion-related clip in YS that I remember. It will also serve well as an inspiration for a couple of my future posts. Here’s the clip from YS that we’ll look at. It’s from season 6, episode 18: ‘Little Green Men and a Fella's Marriage Proposal’. The scene begins at 2:51 and you can stop it at 3:22:

And here’s the transcript of the relevant part:

Sheldon: Dr. Prakash, I'm on the hunt for a mentor who's not afraid to challenge entrenched scientific paradigms.

Dr. Prakash: Well, mainstream science has always been threatened by new ideas.

Sheldon: True. Like Galileo being imprisoned for his heliocentric model of the universe.

Dr. Prakash: And did you know Semmelweis was put in an asylum for suggesting that doctors wash their hands?

Sheldon: I did. Did you know that Michael Servetus discovered pulmonary circulation and was burned at the stake?

Dr. Prakash: Or Henry Oldenburg was arrested...

Sheldon: ...Arrested as a spy for corresponding with scientists from other countries!

Obviously, the scene is funny. At this point, I’m quite sure the adult Sheldon in TBBT would remind us of his humorous line, ‘It’s funny because it’s true.’ I don’t dispute the first part, but is it true indeed? There are quite a few claims here and they will take several future posts to unpack! I don’t want you to keep waiting, but, then, a few more lines will be needed to evaluate these statements by Sheldon and Dr. Prakash. But here are my preliminary conclusions about the claims of the four historical characters mentioned in the scene:

• Galileo Galilei - Well, yes and no. The story of Galileo is notoriously complex. Was Galileo put under ‘house arrest’ or was he ‘imprisoned’? I’ll point to two different perceptions among scholars regarding this question. And whether his troubles were caused by his acceptance of ‘heliocentrism’, might be a more complicated question than it at first seems. This could become a can of worms once we open this case, but it’s a can that just has to be opened.

• Ignaz Semmelweis - While there’s some truth to this, it’s oversimplified & very misleading to state that he ‘was put in an asylum for suggesting that doctors wash their hands.’ We’ll need to correct this story.

• Michael Servetus - Whereas Sheldon doesn’t claim that Servetus was burned because of his scientific discoveries, he at least implies (to my mind) that there was a connection. However, it was not his science but his theological views that led to his demise. I think Servetus’ fate deserves to be looked at as well.

• Henry Oldenburg - Of all of these claims, this one is unproblematically true. Oldenburg was briefly arrested in 1667 on suspicion of espionage during the Second Anglo-Dutch War (1665–67). But then, if that’s the case, what does this have to do with Sheldon’s willingness to challenge ‘entrenched scientific paradigms’? More could be said on this historical episode, but Sheldon doesn’t need correction here. If anything, it’s more a non-sequitur rather than a bad history.

One possible reply to some of these misconceptions might be that YS was not attempting to be accurate according to our current knowledge, but only according to the state of knowledge around 1990 when YS takes place. After all, Saltzberg said with regard to YS that ‘we still keep it accurate, and try to keep it accurate in that case for what was happening around 1990.’ But such an objection wouldn’t do in these cases. Given his smart brain, Sheldon could have and should have known it already in his youth.

Thus, in my future posts, I’ll explore Sheldon’s claims about Galileo, Semmelweis, and Servetus. I’d be happy to revise my preliminary conclusions above, if needed, as I’ll be thinking and writing about them. But in the meantime, I might get to watch a few episodes of YS.

Enjoy your sips,

Andrej

Welcome to Science & Religion Café! I’m Andrej Zeman, and I’m currently working on my doctorate in Science and Religion at the University of Oxford. In case you find the content here interesting, informative, or meaningful, then give it a like or share it with others. In case you’d like to hear a few more thoughts about this curious café, read on!

So, let’s make this straight: Coffee is great! I don’t know about you but I begin every day with a few good sips of coffee. While I can imagine skipping my morning coffee, it would feel strange. Something would seem unnatural. Something would be missing. And so it is with my thinking about science and religion. ‘Wait, what?!’

It’s been a while now that I’ve become interested in the questions related to God, religion(s), and science. But not always. When I look back, it’s been like a subtitle to the 2012 Hobbit film: ‘An Unexpected Journey.’ At first, I thought that after high school I’d be doing rather something else, mostly connected to foreign languages. But here I am, almost 20 years later, and I’m finishing my doctorate in the field of “Science and Religion” at the University of Oxford.

On such an academic (and a personal) journey, it’s hard not to be surrounded by all those sorts of questions that have been asked by some of the big minds of the past and present: Is there a God? Are there good reasons to believe in him? How did the universe come about? How do evolution and natural selection relate to theism? What about God and the problem of suffering? Can we trust the Bible? What was Jesus like and what did he really do and say? These are just the most famous, but of course, there are many others. I enjoy especially those connected to the history of science and religion, but which especially bear on today’s thinking and the wider world. I’ve been thinking about them in classes, libraries, places of historically famous figures, and amid the rocks (and scorpions) of ancient Palestine.

So what is behind the name of this substack – ‘Science and Religion café’? What kind of café is this, you might ask? To answer that, I’d like to imagine two types of drinks. First, imagine sipping your favourite cup of coffee (if you don’t like coffee, play along). You probably know what this feels like. You know what to expect and you like its taste and smell. You can just sit back and relax with your familiar drink. Now imagine another coffee. This is one that you’ve never drunk before. You go ahead and take a sip. Perhaps you expected something else or didn’t even know what to expect. Yet you become pleasantly surprised by its taste and aroma. It’s something new, unexpected, and perhaps even tasty. Well, these two drinks is what I’d like to serve here.

The first drink happens when you read something more or less familiar to you. You can still enjoy the reading, connect it easily with what you already know, and perhaps learn something new too. And while the second drink is also coffee, it still surprises you as you haven’t really encountered anything like that so far. In this sense, I hope you’ll be able to enjoy (or be provoked by) a new view, a different perspective, or just generally something unexpected. Thus, I hope that at least some of the coffees served here might offer you both familiar and unfamiliar tastes.

One more thing: I’d like the content here to be welcoming to everyone from all backgrounds, skills, and expertise. There is a reason why I’m calling this 'café’ and not ‘conference.’ So if, per chance, something was not clear or was said in a complicated way, it’s most probably me and not you. And if that’s the case, or if you had any questions, let me/us know in the comments. I’ll learn on the way too. I don’t know where the topics I’ll cover will lead me, but I hope to interesting places that are worth knowing, thinking, and talking about. Perhaps with a cup of your favourite coffee.

Enjoy the sips,

Andrej