Doe, a Dear

If I was James Burke (and I confess to being a Burkian—or is
it Burkkie?) this is where the summary is placed.  So I’ll plop it down right here—why science
and religion can not only co-exist, but why each helps us to understand the
other.  It’s not a boxing match between
the two disciplines, it’s a marriage.  (I
will leave space for you to insert your own  joke.)____________________________________________.

We started with a simple move learned from the Talmud, to
respect, truly respect the opposing point of view, and to respect, truly
respect, opinions that came before the modern world.  This led to an observation about
consciousness, also learned from the Talmud, that our internal dialogue needs a
wise moderator, not a Roman Emperor giving different opinions a ‘thumbs up or
down’, with the ensuing bloody consequences. 

That in turn, led us to see how the ancients took the same
observations of modern scientists and simply used another method to express
those observations—poetry, which translated very nicely into contemporary
astrophysics.  We then followed the trail
of Astrophysics until it ran into its now famous locked door that keeps it
separate from Quantum Physics.  Using the
newly discovered natural (i.e. real) ways of cause and effect, discovered over
the course of the 20th century, we came to the work of Henry Stapp,
who seemed to have the key to the door. 
The key was human consciousness.

And so the picture the physicists paint is you sitting in
your living room bombarded with subatomic particles and being tossed around in
an ocean of quantum waves, although, just like it looks as though the earth is
flat, is seems as though you are sitting on the couch flipping channels,
unaware of the tumult in your thoughts and around the room.  The question still remains, what does all of
this physics have to do with you?  I
mean, if it were biology we were talking about, sure, then it’s relevant. 

But there is another locked door between physics and
biology, between physics and health.  In
fact, there is a locked door between all of the sciences—just walk from
building to building at midnight at your local university.  The metaphor is also literal.

It turns out though, about ten years ago, biochemist Candace
Pert discovered the key to the doors blocking physics, biology, and
psychology.  These keys are called
neuropeptides.  Neuropeptides—it’s what
your brain does.  Your brain spends some of it’s time thinking, but most of
the time it is creating neuropeptides, your own chemical snowflakes, each one
just a little different than the previous. 
Your brain is a kitchen, it is making so many of these things it’s like
a big pot of soup.  It is converting all
of the things you know, all of the things you believe, all of the things you do,
into this soup.  You essentially are
bathing yourself in your own life.  Your
life becomes your biology. 

This is because neuropeptides essentially tell your cells
what to do.  How?  Each cell is covered in receptors (think of
yourself wearing a suit of armor, the armor made of satellite dishes), and that
these neuropeptides lay comfortably in the dishes.  Except that the messaging is—ready?  Really, get ready—instantaneous.  That is, the communication moves faster than
the speed of light.  That’s what I said,
faster than the speed of light. 
Instantaneous.  Now, how can this
be, since Einstein said quite clearly that nothing moves faster than the speed
of light? 

Well, it seems there is this
layer of energy throughout the body—and, well, as a scientist, she said, it’s
pretty hard to talk about this, but there’s this layer of energy that leaves
the body immediately upon death—it weighs 23 grams, since the body immediately
becomes lighter at the moment of death by 23 grams….wait, just a second, the
interviewer asked (it was Bill Moyers), are you talking about a soul? 
She said that as a scientist she really can’t use that word, but…

 See?  They just aren’t
even allowed to translate.  But we can, and this brings us back to doe.