When I was in graduate school for chemistry, I asked another student at my church studying kinesiology — the study of human movement — how faith shaped the way she understood her studies. Since she attended a Christian college, I wondered how she was learning to integrate faith with her studies. Her answers revolved around God as the author of all truth and creation declaring his glory. I agreed, but I pushed further: “What about kinesiology, in particular?” 

She hadn’t thought about it.

Inevitably, she asked me the same question about chemistry. I had no answer either. In fact, I was trying to understand how faith, if at all, shaped my understanding of chemistry.

Exploring this topic, everything I could find relating faith to science revolved around defending faith with science or whether Christians could trust science at all. That was no surprise. The conflict between belief and unbelief has often occurred on the battleground of science. As a response, the church has spent considerable time and resources equipping Christians to defend our faith through apologetics relating to science. A theology of science, though, is seldom developed in our churches beyond this apologetic starting point.

There is a long history of theologians and apologists appealing to scientific discoveries to support Christian belief. Even in “City of God” Augustine devotes a section to natural wonders, which he argues could only be attributed to divine action. In more recent times, there are an abundance of organizations that develop resources to support their interpretation of the first few chapters of Genesis. Because of this, many Christians primarily encounter science through apologetics rather than as a way of understanding creation. 

This has two consequences.

First, when discussions in the church focus on science only in the context of apologetics, we risk suggesting science has value only insofar as it relates to theology. Apologetic work is important and edifying for the church. However, by only ever engaging with or employing science as an apologetic tool, we imply that science is either secondary to theology or just its tool. Instead, we should recognize that science has a distinct role in society alongside theology, with neither discipline subordinate to the other.

To address this, pastors and church leaders should be mindful of the ways they reference science. Some people speak of it only in the negative while others only reference it to make a point about a passage of Scripture. Science can just as easily be demonized or idolized, depending on the context. Like any profession, it contains pitfalls and promise. But there are young people under the care of the church who need a vision of how they can use their God-given gifts positively in the field of science. 

Second, focusing strictly on these contentious science-faith topics distracts us from a broader vision of science. The reality is that only a small fraction of scientific work directly touches the topics that occupy the church’s attention. To do their daily work, a mosquito ecologist does not spend her days examining theories of cosmic origins, and a nuclear physicist’s experiments rarely depend on his interpretation of Genesis. Many books have been written on Christian approaches to healthcare, business, politics, education, and family life, but when it comes to science, have we thought beyond the “big questions”?

The difference of interest between the common discourse and the average scientist does not diminish the work invested in the “big question” topics, but it should serve as a reminder that there are equally important questions that the church less frequently asks. Theology and science can work together to develop apologetic responses, but they can also answer practical questions like:

• What does faithful scientific practice look like day to day? 
• How should a Christian scientist choose what to study? 
• What responsibilities do we have in scientific innovation and development?

These questions represent opportunities for scientists of faith to contribute to the development of a theology of scientific practice.

The Reformed tradition has a rich history of theology that emphasizes the lordship of Christ over all spheres of life. God has called each person to a unique vocation with no job greater than another in the kingdom. Science is a vocation in the same sense as plumbing, programming, or preaching. It represents a unique way of engaging with creation.

In his book “Wisdom and Wonder,” Abraham Kuyper describes the purpose of science as discovering God’s majesty and wisdom in creation and expressing it through human thought and language. Scientific discovery, at its core, is doxological, communicating the greatness of the Creator. This should be the broader vision of science for the church.

Operating from this vision looks different in each context. In chemistry, I make new molecules through a process called synthesis. I have come to see this as taking what God has given us in creation and shaping it into something new. This work reflects the creation mandate given to humankind in Genesis 1:28. Old Testament scholar Albert Wolters describes this mandate in “Creation Regained” as humanity’s ongoing task of developing the potential God placed within creation from the beginning. 

Through my own work, I aim to cultivate that potential and shape it into something that brings glory to God. This is only one attempt to articulate what this broader vision of science might look like, and I am sure other chemists and theologians would have much to contribute to a theology of chemistry.

“Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them” (Psalm 111:2). Psalm 111 has sometimes been called “the research scientist’s psalm,” capturing the idea that the attentive study of God’s works can itself be an act of worship. If scientific study can be an act of worship, then we must also ask what faithful scientific practice looks like. 

Christian engagement with science has often focused on helping the church understand what to believe about science, but it has given less attention to what faithful scientific work looks like in the laboratory. Answering this question would give the whole church—both scientists and non-scientists—a fuller picture of what it means to work under Christ in every kind of vocation he gives.

Christian Sanchez serves as assistant professor of chemistry at Samford University and is a member of Third Presbyterian Church in Birmingham.