Having just completed Galileo’s Letter to the Grand Duchess Christina of Tuscany (1615), it’s easy to see why @TedDavis speaks so highly of it.
For a 400-year-old document, it’s surprisingly easy to read. I’m sure this is due at least in part to the particular translation Ted recommends. Galileo is logical, engaging, and witty in his prose. At roughly 15,000 words, this “letter” is a short book.
Galileo weaves a narrative around his personal experiences with critics as a way of describing how he thinks theology (called “queen of the sciences” in that age) should co-exist and interact with all the rest of the sciences (astronomy, geometry, medicine, etc.). For his authority regarding theology, he leans heavily on the church fathers: Augustine (most of all), Tertullian, Jerome, and also Thomas Aquinas. He concludes his writing with a lengthy defense of “the day the sun stood still” (Joshua 10:12-14), arguing that a Copernican understanding led to a superior interpretation of the passage than a Ptolemaic understanding ever could.
Throughout this little book, Galileo was defending both Scripture and Science (as we would now call the latter) - saying, in essence, that anyone who saw the two in conflict was misrepresenting at least one of them. Thus we could say Francis Collins setting up BioLogos in the early 21st century was something of a parallel to Galileo writing the duchess in the early 17th.
We should ask, however, if the situation Galileo faced is different from the one Collins faces. I think it is quite different, and that difference bears heavily on the question which launched this thread. In the early 17th century, what we call “Science” was a budding movement; today it is a vast and established enterprise, enjoying prestige and power. In Galileo’s time, science operated in the shadow of the church; in our time, the church operates in the shadow of science. But what I’m describing in this paragraph is not the difference that is important to us. It is only the context for the difference.
The important difference between the 17th century and the 21st is that in the former the issue was science whereas in the latter the issue is the history that science projects. The arguments of our time between YEC’s and OEC’s is not about the Bible and science; it’s about the Bible and history. The Bible has never spoken of science but it has always spoken of history. In Galileo’s time, science had not yet begun speaking about history. The major arguments of our time between the Bible and science are not at root about science, they are about history: specifically and most notably, the age of the earth, evolution, and Noah’s Flood.
Because of this difference, Galileo’s letter can only guide us so far. Its utility is limited. He did not foresee what faces us. His letter could be used to support both YEC and OEC views. Somewhere between the early 17th century and now, the “battle” between the Bible and science ceased and instead the clash moved to one between the ancient history of the Bible and ancient history according to science. As is so often the case, many people are fighting the battles of the last war instead of the ones of the present.
Reading Galileo has reinforced and clarified my view that to think there’s something still to be worked out between the Bible and science is to be anachronistic and miss the point. Instead, this is a debate about ancient history - origins - and it can never be settled until we begin addressing it in those terms.
Therefore, if anyone wishes to continue to engage with me, please focus on history. It’s a waste of time to try to convince me that the Bible does not teach science. I’ve been convinced for decades that the Bible doesn’t teach science. Instead, convince me that the Bible doesn’t teach ancient history - including material origins - and you’ll get me to an old earth. I know Walton tries to make that point, but while he’s been edifying on other points, he’s been unpersuasive on that one. Therefore, you’ll need a better argument than his. Thank you for reading this far.