By JIM NICHOLS

It would be impossible to find any human who has only one set of skills and interests. Although each of us certainly develops certain aspects of our lives as basic, we each have latent secondary or tertiary topics that drive us. These additional areas of our lives are unpredictable to others, but quite real to each of us. We even have a phrase we use such as saying, “I wear two hats in my job (or life).” In reality, most of us have more than two.

At the age of six, Albert Einstein’s mother introduced him to the violin. Taking formal lessons when he turned thirteen, he developed his skills. He was particularly fond of playing Mozart sonatas and everywhere he traveled as an adult he carried his well-worn violin case. He once wrote, “Life without playing music is inconceivable for me. I have my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music. I get most joy in life out of music.”

My life has been filled with biologists who were on top of their game. Well-read, smart, creative, and organized, they have been my mentors and colleagues. However, few of them have been biologists only. My favorites have been those who are also deeply committed to spiritual thoughts, although they might not use those terms. They have been serious people who have wondered about serious problems and circumstances. For instance, I suspect they would agree with me in wondering about this question. Is what is going on in our minds explainable in a scientific manner such as neuronal connections or, rather, is it explainable best by theological words and events?

Andrew Newberg is a neuroscientist who studies and writes about brain function and various mental states. For instance, he wonders about spiritual and religious experiences and how they relate to brain-imaging studies. Are there differences to note, for example, in the brains of atheists and individuals speaking in tongues? 

Much of his work has followed personal testimonies from individuals who report a specific life incident that has markedly altered their view of life, something that has had a profound spiritual impact. These include such situations as witnessing something violently tragic, deep involvement in the death of a loved one, or an expected and indescribable positive experience. Hearing from people of diverse backgrounds and spiritual stances, he has looked for commonalities. He writes that he notes five similarities: (1) the person senses unity or connectedness (2) clarity of experience (3) intensity (4) surrender (5) transformation. From my bias as a follower of God, these all make sense.

Many would criticize any consideration of an overlap of brain science and theology. Scientific training tends to tell practitioners that everything (including thoughts and beliefs) is the result of the correct sequence of neuronal connections. Just as God does not have to instruct our hearts and kidneys to function, our brains do not have an outside higher power influence. In contrast, strongly religious people might show distrust for a scientific explanation of something for which they have a clear “gut reaction.”

For those of us who live on the boundaries of science and religious faith, it is an uncomfortable position. There are many, however, who live right there.

To live with one foot in science and another in the spiritual world (wear two hats), one must break away from “either-or” stances and adopt more “both-and” positions. We moderns have sold out to the narrow view that standing in one place means that being in another place simultaneously is impossible. Jesus did not live that way.

During the interviews for his work, Andrew Newberg reports a responder (following a transformative experience) relating, “It convinced me that we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” That describes Jesus on earth.

Recently I drove a long way to make a visit to a patient who was asleep when I arrived. It has happened before and stumps me a while because it seems awkward to offer ministry from God to someone unconscious. Alone in the room with him, the best I could do was read aloud the 23^rd Psalm and some of Romans 8. I prayed verbally over him and left. I am trusting that during those minutes he and I were in that space between being spiritual and human.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospice chaplain