Finding God in the Waves: How I Lost My Faith and Found It Again Through Science

by Mike McHargue

The first gulp from the glass of natural sciences will turn you into an atheist, but at the bottom of the glass God is waiting for you.

—Werner Heisenberg, theoretical physicist and one of the pioneers of quantum mechanics

We have experiences with God that are beautiful and moving, but over time, they just become things that make us feel superior to other people.

People are down on Evangelicalism these days, but even my earliest years of life showed me that Evangelical churches are great at doing a whole lot of important things. They provide community, comfort, and stability. When an active member of an Evangelical church dies, the family of the departed receives immense support during their grieving. Dealing with the influx of casseroles and baked hams delivered to the homes of the bereaved can become a logistical issue, and their grass is mowed as if by elves.

What I’m saying is that it’s easy to stand on the outside and dismiss Evangelicals as crazy Fundamentalists, but this misses most of what

the movement really is (or, at least, is supposed to be). I’m not an Evangelical anymore, but it was Evangelicals who showed me how to be a loving husband and father. Evangelicals taught me how to be a good employee and how to live my life with inte...

Our churches will never be healthy as long as those experiencing doubt feel they have to hide. In too many churches, the response to doubt and tough questions is shaming, passive rejection, or probes about a possible “sin problem” in the questioner. All this reaction does is push the doubting away from their faith. It has to stop.

But I’ve learned that the need for certainty is an addiction we can kick—that it’s possible to have faith, and even follow Christ, without needing to defend historical Christianity like a doctoral thesis. We can approach beliefs not as gems to be mined from the earth and protected with clenched fists, but as butterflies that land on an open hand—as gifts to enjoy but not possess.

These days, my intercessory prayers are an act of surrender—a way to voice my hopes and my hopelessness, my power to act and my powerlessness. When I pray for things I hope for, I am searching for ways I can act to make a situation better. When I pray in situations I find hopeless, I’m searching for that redemptive perspective.

But this power can come at a cost. People who suffer at the hands of, and subsequently leave, their religious communities are more prone to depression and anxiety, show an elevated risk for suicide, and can even suffer PTSD.

Is the Bible infallible? Is it true? We’re asking the wrong questions about the Bible. Accepting the Bible for what it is, a library of books written by men about God, seems at first like a profound demotion for the Good Book. But I believe this approach solves the problems doubters face when they approach the pages of Scripture—all without evicting God from those pages.

I keep finding God in the waves—the waves of the Pacific, the waves of gravity, the waves of electromagnetic energy, and the waves that move through our brains. I find God in the sound waves of ancient hymns, of children laughing, and in the quiet sobbing of those who say under impossible assault, “I can’t breathe.”