To begin, let’s distinguish between religion—conceptual models and guidelines for behavior in a community (theology + morals + rituals)—and spirituality—direct experience of reality independent of context. Experience is primary. The model, theory, or theology is secondary and approximate. Spirituality is concerned with the primary: the encounter with the essential mystery of being and the fundamental interconnectedness of all.
If we view spirituality in that light, we can see how spiritual inquiry is compatible with both science and religion. Direct experience of reality—and the accompanying awe, mystery, and interconnectedness—is shared by both the scientist and the religious practitioner. It is in the language and symbolism used to represent this experience where the two differ.
This relates to the conflict between religion and science. The core issue arises from fundamentalism on both sides: when the religious interpret their symbols and metaphors literally, and when scientists forget their models are also approximate (they are secondary to direct experience, which is primary). When this happens, you get a dichotomy where each side argues over which set of symbolic representations is fundamentally true. But they are both symbolic representations of direct experience; hence, neither is absolutely true, though both may be practically true. Scientists had this shocking realization in the mid to late 1900s during the exploration of the quantum. Einstein said, “As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.” I say practically true in that science can get us to the moon, and religion can help one find a sustainable and joyful way of living. The real integration comes when we see that scientists and contemplatives (or spiritual practitioners) are more similar than different.
They move toward the same ends through slightly different means. Both are concerned with seeking the truth. They essentially make empirical observations—asking questions of reality, observing what is true, and building an organized knowledge base. The scientist focuses on the outer dimension (measurement of objects), while the contemplative focuses on the inner dimension (phenomenal experience). But they arrive at the same place: consciousness is inseparable from material reality. (We won’t go into it here, but famous physicists Oppenheimer, Bohr, and Heisenberg all referenced parallels between Eastern mysticism and modern physics. At the time of this writing, I suggest The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra to explore this point, and I will continue to expand upon it.
So we see that both science and religion are offshoots of some direct experience (which is the domain of spirituality). They are collections of different symbols used to approximate a primary experience. The scientist and the contemplative—when they have the right orientation—undertake the same quest: to make careful observations of reality, draw practical conclusions about what is true, and represent those findings using language and symbols.
The systems view of life can help unify these two modes of inquiry. This is particularly true if we look at ecology and emergence (two “scientific” insights).
In ecology, we see that we are part of an interconnected whole—we are inseparable from the cosmos. My body is made of atoms born in the hearts of stars. Molecules that were once buried deep beneath the surface of the Earth, and that passed through countless forms of living and nonliving entities, come together to form this self. The air I breathe was breathed by you and all who came before me. Gaia Theory states the Earth itself is a single organism. To use the Ubuntu saying: “I am because you are.” To reference Christianity: “Don’t you believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words I speak are not my own, but my Father who lives in me does his work through me. Just believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (John 14). So we can already begin to see how the essence of science (ecology) and religion both point toward interconnectedness.
Taking this a step further with the science of emergence—how complex systems (living and nonliving) spontaneously manifest into higher-order levels of complexity and structure (this is discussed in What is Life? and in RESOURCE The Systems View of Life by Fritjof Capra). It seems there is some inherent creative principle at work in the universe. This need not imply something teleological (i.e., a purpose or intellectual designer). Rather, there is something inherent in the universe through which order, complexity, and consciousness emerge from apparent emptiness and chaos. Maybe this creative principle, which is beyond all intellectual knowing, is what we call God. “At the end of all knowing we shall know God as the unknown.” — Areopagite
To conclude with commentary from Fritjof Capra: “I argue that ecology—and especially the recent philosophical school of deep ecology—is the ideal bridge between science and spirituality. When we look at the world around us, we find that we are not thrown into chaos and randomness but are part of a great order, a grand symphony of life. Every molecule in our body was once a part of previous bodies—living or nonliving—and will be a part of future bodies. In this sense, our body will not die but will live on, again and again, because life lives on. Moreover, we share not only life's molecules, but also its basic principles of organization with the rest of the living world. Indeed, we belong to the universe, and this experience of belonging can make our lives profoundly meaningful.”
For an in-depth review of Capra’s work and his “systems view of life,” see The Systems View of Life by Fritjof Capra.
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