In the first article of our “Got Questions?” series, we asked: How can we know God exists? We considered the Bible’s claim that God has not left Himself without witness: in creation, in conscience, and supremely in Jesus Christ.
A natural follow-up often sounds like this: “I trust science. I trust airplanes. I trust the laws of nature. I do not need to add God.”
Before we go further, let me say this plainly: Christians are not anti-science. We are grateful for careful observation, honest experimentation, and true discoveries. Historically, many of the pioneers who helped build modern science were Christians, convinced that the universe is orderly and intelligible because it was made by a wise Creator. [1] The question is not whether science works. It does. The question is whether science, when you think it through, quietly points beyond itself.
Trusting the airplane assumes more than aerodynamics
When you step onto a plane, you trust that it will fly and reach your intended destination safely. You trust the engineers, the pilot, the maintenance, and yes, the laws of aerodynamics. And you trust them because you have seen patterns. Planes have flown many times before. Experience teaches you to expect they will fly again.
That everyday confidence depends on something most of us rarely stop to examine: the reliability of human rationality. It depends on your mind being able to reason from repeated experience. It depends on the world being stable enough that patterns can be discovered and trusted.
In other words, you are not only trusting a machine. You are trusting that your mind can know real things about the world.
Now, a skeptic may say, “Evolution explains why our brains work well enough to survive.” Perhaps. But that still leaves a serious question: why should we assume our reasoning is aimed at truth, rather than merely at survival? If our brains are merely survival machines shaped by blind evolutionary pressures, why trust them when they make claims about evolution, mathematics, or logic itself? Natural selection cares whether you survive and reproduce, not whether your beliefs are true. A useful false belief works just as well as a true one, as long as it helps you survive. So if naturalism is true, we have undermined our own confidence in the reasoning that led us to naturalism in the first place.
Christianity offers an answer that fits the world we actually inhabit: the universe is intelligible because it is created by a rational God, and our minds can grasp reality because we are made in His image (Genesis 1:26–27). That does not discourage investigation. It explains why investigation works.
Looking for God in the machine is the wrong category
Some people say, “I do not see God in the laws of aerodynamics, so God is unnecessary.”
But of course you do not “see” the maker of something as a component inside the thing. You can investigate a car for a lifetime and never find the inventor sitting under the hood. That does not mean there was no inventor. It means you are asking the wrong kind of question.
God is not a part of the universe, as though He were one more object inside the system. He is the Creator of the system. So the question is not, “Where is God inside the machinery?” The more foundational question is, “Why is there an intelligible, law-governed world at all, and why do we have minds capable of discovering it?”
And this matters: God is not a “gap filler” for what science cannot yet explain. He is the reason there is anything for science to explain at all. Christianity does not set God against aerodynamics, chemistry, or physics. He is not a plug-in explanation for what we cannot yet understand. He is the foundation that makes the entire scientific enterprise possible in the first place.
The design discussion goes deeper than complexity, it goes to meaning
Many debates about God and science orbit around “design.” People discuss whether a biological structure is too complex to arise by evolutionary processes. Those conversations can be detailed and technical.
But there is another layer that often gets overlooked, a layer that is more basic than questions about biological machinery.
It is the layer of information and meaning.
Modern genetics shows that DNA is not merely “stuff.” It is an ordered sequence that carries biological information. DNA uses a four-letter “alphabet”: A, C, G, and T. [2]
One complete set of your DNA instructions contains about 3 billion DNA “letters,” arranged across 23 chromosomes. Most of your cells carry two complete sets, one from your mother and one from your father. [3] If you want the exact reference benchmark scientists use, the Genome Reference Consortium’s GRCh38.p14 assembly lists a total human genome length (all scaffolds) of 3,099,734,149 base pairs. [4] A base pair is simply two matching DNA letters paired together, like one rung on a ladder, so that is about 3.1 billion rungs in one genome copy. [5]
Put simply, we are not talking about a seven-letter word on a sign, but a code in the billions. The question is how meaningful, instruction-carrying order like that arises in the first place.
Let me illustrate this concept in simple terms. If you see the seven letters F-R-E-E-W-A-Y on a sign, you do not treat them as random shapes. They communicate because an agreed-upon language already exists, and because you have a mind that can read and understand. In the cell, something parallel is true: DNA’s “letters” only function as information because there is a code and a translation process that reads and applies them. So the question is not only, “Where did the letters come from?” but also, “Where did the language system come from?”
We are not claiming evolutionary processes cannot produce complexity. But information systems with codes and interpreters consistently point to intelligence. Some will object, “Codes can arise from mindless, unguided processes.” All right. Show me one, not merely a pattern, but a true code, with a key and an interpreting process.
Some will point to computer simulations where code “evolves” solutions, or genetic algorithms that optimize designs. But notice: those programs were written by programmers, run on designed computers, with fitness functions defined by minds. The “evolution” happens within an intelligently designed system targeting specific goals. You haven’t eliminated intelligence; you’ve just moved it back one step to the programmer who set up the entire framework.
And the startling thing is that you do not have to imagine such a system. It is already there in every living cell.
In the cell, that translation system is real and specific. The DNA message is first copied into a working message, and then a tiny molecular machine in the cell reads that message in three-letter “words.” Helper molecules act like carriers, bringing the right building blocks at the right time, so the cell can assemble proteins. [6] In other words, the cell has a built-in reading and translating system that takes the DNA message and turns it into working parts.
This is not a claim that chemistry is irrelevant. Chemistry is obviously involved. The point is that when you encounter coded information and an interpreter system, you are dealing with something that looks very different from mere chemistry. Words and languages are not the same kind of thing as ink and paper.
This is not a quiet whisper. It shouts. A message, a code, and an interpreter are not the kind of thing we ever attribute to mindless, unguided processes.
A brief note for clarity
Some Christians believe God used evolutionary processes as His means of creating life over long ages. That’s a discussion for another time, and faithful believers hold different views. But even if evolutionary processes played a role, they don’t eliminate the need for God. They just relocate Him from direct special creation to sovereign design of the entire process, including the laws that govern it. Either way, intelligence and intentionality are foundational, not accidental. The question isn’t whether God could use gradual processes, but whether mindless, purposeless processes can account for specified information systems like DNA without any intelligent input.
Christianity says the universe is word-shaped because it comes from the Word
Here is where Christianity becomes both bold and beautifully coherent.
The Bible does not say, “In the beginning were the particles, and later, somehow, mind appeared.” It says the opposite:
“In the beginning was the Word … and all things were made through him” (John 1:1–3).
And Scripture adds that this same Christ is not only the origin of all things, but the One who sustains them:
“By him all things were created … and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:16–17).
Christians are not surprised to find order, meaning, and intelligibility woven into reality. We expect it, because we believe the universe is created and upheld by the eternal Word.
Now, you might think this is just philosophical speculation, elegant but ultimately unprovable. But Christianity makes a falsifiable historical claim: the Word who made everything actually entered history in a specific time and place, performed public miracles, died, and rose from the dead. This is what makes Christianity unique among worldviews: it stakes everything on a checkable historical claim. If Jesus didn’t rise, Christianity collapses. But if He did, everything changes. That’s not blind faith; that’s an invitation to investigate historical evidence (1 Corinthians 15:14).
And then the Christian claim becomes concrete. The Word entered the universe.
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).
So the question is not merely, “Can I win an argument?” The deeper question is, “What will I do with the God who has made Himself known?”
The heart of the matter
The Bible teaches that our problem is not a lack of evidence, but a resistance of heart. We suppress the truth, not because it is absent, but because it is inconvenient (Romans 1:18–20). If you feel that resistance in yourself, you are not alone. That is simply the human condition. And it is exactly why we need not only arguments, but grace.
The good news is that God doesn’t just confront us with evidence and leave us to figure it out alone. He sent His Son to seek and save the lost. Jesus didn’t come primarily to win debates but to reconcile rebels. The same God whose wisdom we see in DNA became flesh to die for our sins and rise for our justification.
An invitation
If you are wrestling with these questions, here is a simple next step: read the Gospel of John slowly and honestly, with an open Bible and an open mind. Ask God to show you the truth. Christianity is not afraid of investigation. It welcomes it. And it ultimately invites you not merely to conclude that God exists, but to come to know Him through Jesus Christ.
Christianity is not offering God as one option among many, or even as the best option out there. It is announcing that God has made Himself known, and that He now calls us to respond to Him.
Francis Collins, who led the Human Genome Project and is one of the world’s leading geneticists, was an atheist when he began reading DNA. The elegance and information he discovered pointed him toward God. He later wrote that the DNA molecule is “our own instruction book, previously known only to God.” That led him not just to theism, but to Christ. If you’re a scientist or love science, don’t think faith means checking your brain at the door. Christianity invites you to bring all your questions and promises you’ll find the One who is Himself the Answer.
If you would like to talk it through, come speak with us.
Footnotes
[1] “Modern Science’s Christian Sources,” James Hannam, First Things, October 1, 2011, First Things.
[2] “ACGT,” National Human Genome Research Institute, Genetics Glossary, date not listed, Genome.gov.
[3] “Human Genomic Variation,” National Human Genome Research Institute, Fact Sheet, February 1, 2023, Genome.gov. In simple terms, DNA is written using four chemical “letters” (A, C, G, and T), often called bases or nucleotides. A chromosome is a long, packaged DNA molecule, humans have 23 chromosomes in one complete set. Most human body cells have two complete sets (often called “two copies” of the genome), one inherited from the mother and one from the father. This two-set arrangement is why we speak of pairs of chromosomes. (A small note for curious readers: some cells are exceptions, for example, mature red blood cells do not have a nucleus, and therefore do not carry nuclear DNA in the usual way.)
[4] “Human Genome Assembly GRCh38.p14,” Genome Reference Consortium, National Center for Biotechnology Information, date not listed, NCBI.
[5] “Base Pair,” National Human Genome Research Institute, Genetics Glossary, date not listed, Genome.gov.
[6] “From RNA to Protein,” Bruce Alberts et al., Molecular Biology of the Cell (4th ed.), Garland Science, 2002, NCBI Bookshelf. In standard biological terms, the DNA sequence is transcribed into messenger RNA (mRNA). A ribosome (a molecular machine) then reads the mRNA in three-letter units called codons. Transfer RNAs (tRNAs) act as adaptors, matching codons to specific amino acids, which the ribosome links together to form a protein.