Colliding hadrons, Batman!

So, the Large Hadron Collider at CERN has its first beam completing the 27km circuit, soon the opposing beam will be going the other way and collisions will start. This may be the end of the world, or not - probably not, but I'm hardly qualified to pass judgement. With a bit of luck, assorted wise heads have looked at this and decided the risk is infinitesimal.

The popular reaction seems to be wonder at the majesty of science, rather little comment on the two incontrovertible points on the scientific enterprise that this shows:
The state of physics and of its mathematical underpinnings in particular is weak enough that it's necessary to build this quantum rollercoaster

The problem of two incompatible scientific theories, each by definition practically effective in its home territory yet provably incorrect, is a big head-scratcher for scientists

I regard myself very much as a scientist by instinct. My first degree was Maths at Oxford, and I try and keep in touch at least with pop science. I don't claim great expertise in any field of science, but nor do I find myself struggling with basic concepts in any field that has introductory literature.

So it's frustrating, to say the least, to find that when it comes to God, some people seem to want to apply a standard of proof far beyond that applied to science before giving the big ideas of faith credence. I'm not especially thinking about Richard Dawkins' wild venturings in this area - he has so far and so furiously overstated his case that he is not seen as a serious commentator in the area of theology (or atheology) any more than I am in respect of the putative Higgs Boson. But a de-frothed version of his outlook is increasingly the norm in certain areas.

So, just for a moment would you please suspend your disbelief about belief?

Science is at least as uncertain as theology.

Allow me to prove that for you.

First, let's be clear what 'science' is. The definition must include:

1. Description - an area of science addresses a topic that must be clearly and objectively identified
2. Observation - the topic must be capable of observation, even if only indirectly
3. Prediction - the scientific enterprise is to make successful predictions
4. Comparison - it must be possible to compare results of experiment and theory and reach conclusion about the relative success of different ideas
5. Duplicability - experiments must be capable of independent repetition and the scientific method requires consistency

Description is problematic. As any fule no, there's a world of difference between saying 'banana' and defining one with precision. As science has progressed, there is both increasing scope and refinement, but also increasing co-dependence and circularity of definition.

Observation is problematic. Much measurement is indirect - the LHC is not really expecting to see a Higgs Boson but traces of its predicted decay products; refined measurements are rarely direct and generally bounded in accuracy (for instance Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle demonstrates why at the level of the very tiny it's not possible to know both where something is and where it's travelling). Probability comes in at every level.

Prediction is troublesome in some fields, for instance in some areas of biology it's impossible to examine most theories except in retrospect - you can't simulate a thousand or a million years in the life of marsupial mammals.

Comparison has severe logical difficulties. Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem puts serious limits on logic. There are true things that can't be proved, false things that can't be disproved. That's not conjecture or handwaving, it's proveable mathematical fact.

Duplicability is also limiting for all sorts of reasons, practical (we can't have another Big Bang), financial (how many particle accelerators or Hubble Telescopes will there be?) and so on.

Overall, science is great, and we need to carry on investing. But that's in a context where progress relies on an element of trust, and where most of the money invested will prove to have been wasted - outweighed, we hope, by the benefits of the tiny proportion of successes.

But we will never be able to predict the moment that the next drop will fall from a dripping tap.

Never, ever.

So please don't tell me that science gives a complete view of reality. It doesn't. It can't. It won't.

Christian theology doesn't either. My contention is that - ultimately - it will. What we see today through a scanning electron microscope subject to revision, we will come to experience directly for ourselves.

I'm in my prime...

Strictly speaking I'm now in one of my primes, but am no longer the age (according to DNA001 mark one) of the answer.

Should have thought to get a picture of all of us at staircase fellowship group, but here is some evidence of festivities on 'H'.

Looking forward to cake at home later. (And backward to yesterday - when I had my camera but forgot to use it. Bah!)

By the way, I had the pleasure of leading 'alternative morning prayer' on the staircase last week, which I thoroughly enjoyed, except (note to self) with a little time pressure I cut the mention of King 'Cakes' Alfred, forgetting he was there in the collect.

Back at the farm, tooth fairies continue their raids.

Autumn continues to charm.

We continue to enjoy pleasant company.

Now, especially for you, David, some reading lists :)

One of my courses this term is Pastoral Skills for Mission and Ministry (I'll try and give you another later on): like a number of our courses, this is dual purpose, being a module of both the Anglia Ruskin University B.A. and the University of Cambridge BTh and CTM courses (same teaching, different assessment).

Key texts are

• Fiddes, P (2000) Participating in God: A Pastoral Theology of the Trinity, London: DLT
• Long, Anne (1990) Listening, London: DLT
• Lynch, Gordon (2003) Pastoral Care and Counselling, London: Sage
• Whitehead, J D and Whitehead, E (1995) Method in Ministry: Theological Reflection and Christian Ministry (Revised edition), Kansas City: Sheed and Ward
• Woodward, J and Pattison, S (2001) Blackwell Reader in Practical and Pastoral Theology, Oxford: Blackwell
• Willows and Swinton (2001) Spiritual Dimensions of Pastoral Care, London: Jessica Kingsley

Plus I've borrowed

• Graham, E, Walton, H and Ward, F (2005) Theological Reflection: Methods, London: SCM
• Graham, E, Walton, H and Ward, F (2007) Theological Reflection: Sources, London: SCM

It's all Greek to me

Quite a day. Not exactly typical, but thoroughly enjoyable.

First to chapel for morning prayer, after which I forgot to sign up for lunch - again :(

Fortunately I'd brought in some tiffin I made last night, so all was not lost. (And OK, I went home for lunch. But that's later)

Morning prayer mainly follows Common Worship: if you want to see today's service in full including the psalm for the day, readings appointed in the lectionary see this link. Sometimes these services feature music and sometimes not, although there's music in the poetry of the Psalms and the Canticles.

We've been following through a passion narrative: this reminded me of my first attempt in a long time to rediscover my joy in creative writing in 2003, which is gradually becoming part of my life again. It's exciting to me that quite a few people here at Ridley have a real interest in reuniting faith and the arts.

Next off for the first lecture in Church History, which was very enjoyable, making some helpful connections between events in the Roman Empire and in the first days of the Church.

In the afternoon we had a staircase football challenge.

I'll admit to mixed feelings about football. I love to play though, as with singing, I bring rather more gusto than skill.

Unlike singing, said gusto then fades rather rapidly, to be relaced with resigned yet dogged determination to survive.

We at 'H' made achieved a glorious first round exit. (Then a draw.)

Then I had agreed to referee a later match, and somehow found myself playing instead. This old body didn't take so kindly to 20 more minutes of football... Great fun, though.

To quote the original DNA001 (clue! clue!) I felt like a military academy - bits of me kept passing out.

Then home, before we headed off again to see that once every three years Cambridge treat the Greek play - Medea performed in Greek with surtitles.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially as our seats were on stage so we had the action 'up close and personal.'

My New Testament Greek is at a pretty early stage, so I was delighted to find that I was picking up words and phrases and felt my ear was tuned in. Anna came too and enjoyed the experience, though a fun-filled-feelgood-family-feast it isn't.

Continuing the Greek theme, we stopped by at the very nice Greek takeaway for falafel and chips. Then chatted over a glass of wine with our very kind neighbour who babysat. And so to bed.

Mystery Object

Cambridge is a late starting city. I had to be up and about early, so I cycled around a bit to get some fresh air and kick-start the circulation. But even by ten to nine, the city feels like no-one wants to be out of bed. The market's just setting up, the coffee shops are open but near empty, the few pedestrians have dazed or purposeful or resentful looks.

Here is today's mystery object. In Cambridge. But no more clues.

In case you're still thinking about DNA001, it's time for the first clue.

(Drum roll.)

There's a connection with Doctor Who.

More next week unless someone gets it.

Competition

There will be a virtual prize for the first person to tell me the significance of my DNA001 tag... Apart from its being available when my name isn't, of course.

Hints will follow in due course.