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Running head: NEUROTHEOLOGY
Your Brain on God: A Neurotheological Examination
Lindsey Goetz
Creighton University
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Abstract
Neurotheology, or the study of the biological underpinnings to faith in a higher power, emerges as
a relatively new player in the theological arena. Although still in its infancy, the discipline bears
some contemporary success while demonstrating marked promise for the future. This paper
attempts to provide a comprehensive review of the two most prominent bodies of research
developed within this topic area, explicating the primary ideologies, methodologies, and findings
of J.B. Ashbrook / C.R. Albright and E. D’Aquili /A. Newberg in turn. In an effort to garner an
objective approach, a significant discussion of the experimental limitations characteristic of each
body of knowledge is likewise provided. Within the current era, neurotheological advancements
must inevitably find integration within greater social and political structures. Thus, the paper
concludes with a discussion of the ethical, genetic, and theological implications of such work.
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Your Brain on God: A Neurotheological Examination
Of all the organs defining the individual, perhaps none emerge as more fascinating than the
human brain. It proves hard to imagine that the intricacy and beauty inherent in poetry and
political systems, for example, find their roots in what amounts to little more than a few pounds of
convoluted gray matter. Yet, despite all of his rational promise, man seems inexplicably driven to
seek solace beyond himself, to turn to the cosmos in search of the seemingly unknowable. For
thousands of years, such a yearning has occupied the minds of numerous philosophers and
theologians, tirelessly laboring to elucidate the relationship between man and the higher power he
seems so intent upon seeking. While much has been done to define the nature of the Godrelationship on theoretical grounds, until recently, there have been few research efforts examining
the physiological mechanisms behind humanity’s need to connect with a higher authority. Thus,
the newly emergent field of neurotheology holds at its center some daunting, yet exciting,
questions. How is it that man’s purely physical brain has evolved the capacity to tap into the
spiritual world? What areas of the brain play a role in mystical experiences? What neurological
underpinnings compel man to religious faith? These inquiries prove inherently important, as
humanity’s understanding of both itself and its place in the world stands contingent upon the
elucidation of such issues. It is undoubtedly with these implications in mind that James Ashbrook
and Carol Albright (1997) and Eugene D’Aquili and Andrew Newberg (1999) embark upon their
neurotheological journey. Paradoxically, every step these research efforts take toward an
understanding of the brain-God relationship ultimately serves to humble a limited science before
the power of faith.
Neurotheological Research
Within the emergent field of neurotheology, two primary methodologies predominate, that
exemplified by James Ashbrook (1997) and that highlighted by the work of Andrew Newberg
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(1999) in conjunction with his late colleague, Eugene D’Aquili. In many respects, these lines of
research prove to be complementary, and thus a sufficient analysis of each serves as a prerequisite
for the contribution of an informed opinion to the neurotheological debate.
Investigational approach and primary findings of James Ashbrook and colleagues
Drawing heavily upon David H. Hubel and Torsten N. Wiesel’s investigation of the nature
of highly specific visual response patterns and Roger W. Sperry’s award-winning split-brain
research, Ashbrook and his associate, Carol R. Albright (1997), articulate two fundamental
presumptions regarding the inter-workings of the human brain, namely, that “we are objectseeking and meaning-making creatures” (p. 8). To understand the implications of such an
assertion, one must first turn to the aforementioned work in a bit more detail. Hubel and Wiesel
based their studies on the idea of the “umwelt,” in which each species’ unique visual limitations
(in conjunction with those of other sensory processes) result in a markedly different perception of
external reality (Ashbrook & Albright, 1997). For example, Hubel and Wiesel determined that a
moving object, a moving object entering the field of vision and then stopping, a decrease in
illumination, and a dark spot “shifting against a dark and light background” (p.16) represent the
sole visual stimuli drawing a response from the neural system of the frog. (Ashbrook & Albright,
1997). The researchers postulated that such an effect may be embedded in “feature detectors,” or
groups of cells designed to seek out and respond to specific visual stimuli (Ashbrook & Albright,
1997, p. 16). Studies conducted during the 1990s identifying certain clusters of neural cells within
the monkey brain reacting specifically to the presentation of a monkey hand or various
orientations of a conspecific face provide corroborating evidence for the existence of such
patterned activity in higher mammals (Ashbrook & Albright, 1997). Because fruit, tree branches,
etc., failed to elicit such selective responses, Ashbrook and Albright (1997) hypothesized that a
given species possesses a particular need to forge bonds with conspecifics. Research conducted
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upon day-old infants elevated this assertion to the level of the human species, revealing that a) “‘a
face-like pattern elicits a greater extent of [newborn] tracking behaviour than does a non-face-like
pattern’” and b) that newborns focus the longest on complex visual stimuli (Ashbrook & Albright,
1997, p. 22).
Sperry’s investigation of split-brain patients adds a third tier to this neural model by
suggesting that, in addition to a preferential orientation toward humanity and complexity, the
human brain feels innately compelled to derive meaning from all that it experiences (Ashbrook &
Albright, 1997). Working with a 16-year-old boy with severed inter-hemisphere connections,
Sperry presented two images, a hen and a winter snow scene, to the teenager in such a manner that
the former reached only the left hemisphere of the brain while the latter reached only the right.
The investigator then asked his subject to select, from a series of eight representations, the one
picture that best matched each of the images before him. Although the boy correctly pointed to a
shovel (corresponding to the snow scene) and a chicken head, when asked why he had made the
selections he did, he responded as follows, “‘Oh, that’s easy. The chicken goes with the chicken
head and you need a shovel to clean out the chicken shed’” (Ashbrook & Albright, 1997, pp. 1011). Because the left hemisphere confers the capacity of speech for most individuals, the boy was
able to correctly articulate the connection between the hen and the chicken head forged by his leftbrain. However, the severance of his inter-hemisphere neural pathway prohibited the subject’s leftbrain from accessing the perceptions developed by its counterpart, rendering a direct verbal
explanation as to why his left hand had pointed to the shovel impossible (Ashbrook & Albright,
1997). Yet, despite this lack of knowledge, the boy’s left-brain nonetheless attempted to infer a
connection between what it had indirectly witnessed (via the hand motion) and what it knew
directly. The ensuing suggestion that the human brain possesses an inherent yearning to create
meaning and forge relationships amongst external stimuli captured the attention of Ashbrook and
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Albright (1997), ultimately joining the preferential search for humanity and complexity as a
cornerstone of their neurological model.
In light of these findings, Ashbrook and Albright embark upon the neurotheological
journey in earnest, hypothesizing that the evolutionary yearnings of the human mind find
manifestation in the idea of the Christian God (Rottschaefer, 1999). Specifically, the “cognitive
imperative,” or need to know, drives us to attribute purpose and meaning to a “higher power”
when such evidence proves lacking within the natural environment. Such an entity emerges as
inherently anthropomorphic, they argue, as humanity possesses the innate urge to seek out its
likeness in the world. Because we are naturally inclined to search for complexity, we further liken
the god-figure to the human form, as the latter bears the highest degree of intricacy that we prove
capable of imagining (Ashbrook & Albright, 1997).
The investigators adopt a comparative methodology in an attempt to derive support for
their hypotheses. Drawing upon neuroscientist Paul MacLean’s conception of a triune brain, in
which three evolutionary distinct “reptilian,” “paleomammalian” (i.e. the limbic system), and
“neomammalian” neural regions progress hierarchically outward from the brain stem to the
neocortex, Ashbrook and Albright (1997) attempt to highlight correlations between the functions
of each of these structures and “God’s way of being God.” (pp. 52), the apparent assumption being
that the existence of such parallels would prove sufficient for the assertion of the God-brain
relationship. Indeed, some points of similarity seem to emerge. Studies conducted with reptiles
lacking the “paleomammalian” and “neomammalian” neural regions attributable to their higherorder counterparts reveal a territoriality and hierarchical emphasis that arguably corresponds to a
“God who belongs to God’s creatures…[and is understood] as the highest of all” (Rottschaefer,
1999, p. 58). Similarly, the concept of God “as interactive and nurturing,” among others, allegedly
reflects the human capacity for empathy and the urge to relate conferred by the inner workings of
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the limbic system (Rottschaefer, 1999, p. 58). Building upon the assumption that the right
hemisphere understands the world holistically while the left hemisphere views it sequentially, the
authors draw correlations between the “neomammalian” brain and the respective visions of “God
as relational” and “God as [a] source of order” (Rottschaefer, 1999, p. 59). Based on these
findings, Ashbrook and Albright conclude that the human brain, to one extent or another,
possesses the requisite “wiring” necessary for belief in an anthropomorphic higher power.
Theoretical and methodological limitations of Ashbrook and Albright’s studies
Although the research of Ashbrook and Albright (1997) provides an intriguing glimpse of
the contour of the biology-theology barrier, the methodology employed throughout their studies
restricts the applicability of their work. Perhaps the most striking oversight, if not erroneous
perception, lies in the authors’ limited investigation of the comparison of physiological
mechanisms and what might be identified as the Christian God. Although this conception of a
higher authority integrates nicely with the supporting neuroscience, the fact remains that numerous
cultures do not possess an anthropomorphic vision of God; as Rottschaefer (1999) points out,
some forms of Buddhism, for example, embody an impersonal vision of a higher being.
Paradoxically, the apparent universality of religion (arguably encompassing a great diversity of the
world’s populations) that would seem to suggest the existence of faith-based genetic
underpinnings actually serves to weaken Ashbrook and Albright’s argument for a biologicallymediated belief in a higher authority. If our brains always motivate us to seek out human
connections in the world, as the authors seem to suggest, then how is it that such historical
religions as Buddhism ever managed to emerge? It would seem, then, that the existence of such
faiths undermines the validity of Ashbrook and Albright’s work. To be fair, environmental
conditions inevitably influence genetic penetrance, and thus it proves theoretically possible that all
religiosity found it roots in an anthropomorphic vision of God, and that the genetic predisposition
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to seek a higher power bearing this quality might subsequently have been culturally modified to
include, for example, the Buddhist concept of the “Tao.” Yet, this possibility proves unlikely, as
there exist no historical records (to the best of my knowledge) testifying to such a transition with
respect to any known religious system. Further, as Rottschaefer (1999) indicates, the contention
for a biological drive toward the anthropomorphic God rests upon the contingency that individuals
having such a conception were more likely to survive than their counterparts bearing impersonal
perceptions of a supreme being. Ashbrook and Albright, however, leave this issue untouched and
never actively attempt to provide an evolutionary explanation for the theories that they propose. In
light of these shortcomings, I am personally inclined to believe that the authors’ work emerges not
as fundamentally faulty, but rather that it fails to “dig deep enough” within the evolutionary
phylogeny of the brain’s inner circuits to generate a complete picture of humanity’s relationship to
God. In other words, Ashbrook and Albright sacrifice, perhaps due to personal religious bias, an
inclusive examination of the topic at hand in order to focus their attention upon more recently
evolved regions of the brain.
The comparison-based methodology utilized by Ashbrook and Albright (1997) imposes
additional limitations upon the scientific value of their research. Though the authors likely practice
sound neuroscience and bear a sufficient understanding of the nature of a theological oversoul,
they depend solely upon correlates between the brain and their vision of God in an effort to
establish a relationship between the two. While such speculation bears some suggestive value, the
lack of a strong scientific bridge between brain function and the belief in a higher authority does
little to resolve the issue of the source of human spirituality. Further, Ashbrook and Albright
(1997) readily admit that the use of MacLean’s three-tiered neural model can be problematic in
that it proves difficult to isolate the behaviors produced by each individual component. The
investigators attempt to combat this ambiguity by adopting a reductionism approach. Rather than
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studying the “reptilian” sector of the human brain directly, for example, they rely upon research
conducted using species with access to this neural region alone (i.e. lizards) and then extrapolate
the findings to include human processes. While this methodology may bear some general value,
no guarantee can speak to the homology of cross-species brain function within a similar neural
region. The evolutionary process includes not only the acquisition and specialization of brain
matter, as the authors suggest, but a re-working of older neural regions within this newly-emergent
framework as well. There is simply no sound reason to imply, for example, that lizards and
humans have the same territorial urgings; Ashbrook and Albright (1997) may do more to advocate
a neural basis for reptilian spirituality than that of their human counterparts.
Fortunately, neurotheology, like most other disciplines, proves to be a highly collaborative
effort, and thus the strengths of some studies often compensate for the apparent weaknesses in
others. Such a case might well be made here, as the work of Newberg and D’Aquili (2001) offers a
fresh perspective on the neurotheological problem. Unlike Ashbrook and Albright (1997), who
devote the majority of their studies to the God-relationship, D’Aquili and Newberg expand their
examination beyond the neural basis for belief to include other religious aspects such as the
specific brain states characteristic of religious experience and ritual.
Investigational approach and primary findings of D’Aquili and Newberg
Adopting a primary causational approach, D’Aquili and Newberg (1999) root their
neurotheological efforts in the fundamental hypothesis that certain evolutionarily beneficial
cognitive structures compel the individual to the formulation of the myth, or more specifically to
an understanding of a higher authority. These “operators” serve not as specific neural structures
within the realm of the physical brain, but rather as functional groupings within the domain of the
mind (D’Aquili & Newberg, 1999). The researchers argue that two such structures, the “Causal
Operator,” or the human ability to interpret and anticipate the series of cause-effect relationships
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characterizing the external environment, and the “Binary Operator,” or the need to reduce the
complex world into a more manageable series of arbitrary opposites such as “up” and “down,”
bear particular implications for mythic evolution (Newberg, D’Aquili, & Rause, 2002, p.81). In
the case of the former, Newberg et al. (2002) speculate that the drive to understand the causal
underpinnings of one’s environment may well have led early peoples to ruminate over the
fundamental issue of human mortality. The authors further suggest that the evolutionary survival
advantage incurred by one’s incessant need to analyze the exterior world in terms of potential
threat relationships may well have solidified the “Causal Operator” within the human psyche, thus
rendering early hominids unable to dismiss such existential questions. In the wake of such a
perplexing problem, the “Binary Operator” likely intervened, attempting to break the mortality
issue down into more modest subsets (Newberg et al., 2002). D’Aquili and Newberg (1999) thus
argue that it emerges as no happenstance that most myths bear two common components, “a
problem of ultimate concern to a society…[framed] in terms of juxtaposed opposites such
as…good-evil, or heaven-hell” and “some resolution…of the seemingly irreconcilable opposites
that constitute the problem” (p. 85). In an effort to elucidate this latter process and thus to
complete their theory of mythic formation, the authors first turn to a specific analysis of human
neurological function as understood through its potential contributions to the more general
phenomenon of the religious experience.
Newberg et al. (2002) implicate two subsets of the autonomic nervous system as crucial
contributors to the “mystical experience,” namely, the sympathetic system, responsible for the
arousal states characteristic to hunting and mating behavior, and the counterbalancing
parasympathetic system, responsible for energy-conversation as manifest in sleep, digestion, and
cell growth. While these “arousal” and “quiescent” systems normally act in an antagonistic
fashion, maximal functioning of either component may lead to a “spill-over” in neural activity
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resulting in the simultaneous activation of both systems (Newberg et al., 2002). The authors
postulate that it is in such cases that purported mystical experiences emerge. For example, the
“hyperquiescent” state achieved through meditation may trigger the activation of the arousal
system, resulting in a “burst of energy” that leads one to feel absorbed by an outside object, an
experience Buddhists refer to as “Appana samahdi” (Newberg et al., 2002). Or conversely, the
researchers assert that a state of “hyperarousal” interrupted by a parasympathetic breakthrough
may contribute to the trancelike condition achieved in many religious experiences (Newberg et al.,
2002). A second neural complex, the Orientation Association Area (seated within the posterior
parietal lobe), also demonstrates ties to such religious moments. According to SPECT imaging
studies, the left Orientation Association Area serves to create one’s “spatial sense of self, while the
right side creates the physical space in which that self exists” (Newberg et al., 2002, p. 28). One
study, in which SPECT images were generated portraying the patterns of neural activity
characteristic of a Buddhist monk immersed in meditation, revealed intriguing mystical
consequences consistent with such a dynamic (Newberg et al., 2002). Because the subject’s
supposedly functioning Orientation Association Area (OAA) demonstrated minimal activity levels
during peak meditation times, the researchers postulated that mystical states may produce a neurochemical environment that deprives the OAA of input. Such a condition bears remarkable
significance, setting the framework for the blurring of the distinction between the self and external
reality characteristic of the unitary nature of many transcendental states (Newberg et al., 2002).
Having laid the preceding foundation, Newberg and D’Aquili (2001) return to the issue of
the union of opposites necessary for mythic formation. Drawing on the unique left brain-right
brain interaction studied by Ashbrook and Albright (1997), the researchers suggest that the
“cognitive imperative” compels each hemisphere to seek, respectively, a sequential and holistic
solution to the existential problem. Inter-hemispheric agreement eventually occurs, enabling a
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shift from the left-dominant view of the logically irreconcilable opposites of say, heaven and hell,
to a right-dominant view in which such opposites are holistically unified (D’Aquili & Newberg,
1999). An electrical impulse follows, triggering a peaceful emotional response from the
hypothalamus which then activates the quiescent system. Because the sympathetic system has not
yet had time to subside, the result is similar to that of the “hyperarousal breakthrough” condition
mentioned above, an effect that the authors suggest may be interpreted as divine revelation
(Newberg et al., 2002).
Theoretical and methodological limitations of D’Aquili and Newberg’s studies
While Newberg and D’Aquili’s analytical approach (2001) offers much insight into
evolutionary theory and a broader understanding of man’s relationship to a higher authority, the
theoretical and methodological underpinnings of their work nonetheless bear limitations. Even if
the adaptive advantages conferred by the various neural structures that the authors implicate in the
brain-God pathway prove to be correct, they do not – and cannot – attempt to explain the
motivating source behind such an evolutionary process. In other words, their findings exert little
impact upon the evolution-creation debate, as the purported gradual emergence of the God-idea
within the neural wiring of ancient human brains in no way counteracts the common belief in the
eternal nature of a higher being (i.e. God may well have existed all along, even if man only
recently evolved the capacity to perceive Him). Further, though D’Aquili and Newberg’s
references to mystical experiences, ritualistic acts, and a non-descript higher power render their
work more religiously conclusive than that of Ashbrook and Albright (1997), they fail to consider
the issue of morality so central to many belief systems. Peters (2001) offers a potential solution for
this shortcoming, suggesting that neurotheology might prove more comprehensive were it to
approach future studies with the “evolved neurophysiology of moral experience” in mind (p. 495).
While neurotheological dependence upon evolutionary ethics may render the brain-God
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relationship more complex, such a compilation inevitably offers the greatest insight regarding the
issues in question. A more subtle ideological limitation emerges in D’Aquili and Newberg’s
apparent assumption that religious moments are inherently positive. They argue that a key element
in mythic formation lies in the pleasurable union of left-brain and right-brain perceptions and
highlight the fulfillment that often corresponds to trancelike and meditative states. Yet, the authors
devote little-to-no attention to the negative implications of the transcendental moments inherent to
many religious systems; long bouts of fasting, for example, hardly prove pleasurable (Woodward,
2001). D’Aquili and Newberg clearly indicate that humans, like all other organisms, possess an
innate desire to seek out what they perceive to be in their best survival interest. Thus, the idea that
some individuals might have developed the ability to actively accept suffering in pursuit of a
spiritual relationship requires further elucidation, an end that future studies might obtain by
focusing more specifically upon the pain centers of the brain. Perhaps the greatest fallacy manifest
by D’Aquili and Newberg’s work, however, lies in the potential for an overly reductionist
approach to religiosity. The argument may well be made that many of the world’s belief systems
share some common threads. Yet, overly generalized theological conceptions unduly simplify the
beautiful complexity inherent to religious theories. Neurotheology may offer a starting point for
the explanation of faith-based yearnings, but the fulfillment of that understanding ultimately
comes in corroboration with the input of a multitude of cultural, philosophical, and theological
factors.
Implications of Neurotheological Research
According to the neurotheological research highlighted above, evidence of a fullydeveloped neocortex bearing the neural capacity for consciousness and theory of mind proves
sufficient for the establishment of a relationship with God, if that connection is indeed mediated
by the brain. There is nothing in this definition to suggest that a potential connection to a higher
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power resides in humanity alone. Newberg and D’Aquili (2001) implicate fear of death as a
crucial component driving mythic evolution in prehistoric man. Yet, Poole’s (1998) reference to
elephant attempts to raise or feed dying conspecifics and to cover dead comrades with vegetation
begs the question as to the existence of non-human God-relationships, especially since the welldeveloped cerebrums and cerebellums of these gentle giants theoretically equips them with the
neural “wiring” to make such connections possible. Convergent evolution is hardly a rare
phenomenon, and selective pressures might easily have driven more than one species to belief in a
higher power. Future studies generating SPECT scans of the brains of “mourning” elephants and
other human relatives involved in potential transcendental activities prove absolutely requisite for
a complete neurotheological understanding. One need not wait for the end of these studies,
however, to see that such possibilities bear extraordinary ethical ramifications within the animal
rights arena in terms of poaching, product testing, and euthanasia, to name a few. If animals and
humans stand equal before God, then perhaps a re-examination of our definition of “murder,” for
example, is in order. Acknowledging the mammalian capacity for a relationship with a higher
authority blurs the human / non-human border, forcing philosophical reflections on what truly
constitutes “humanity” and threatening the current structure of social systems. An extension of the
God-relationship could exert further impact within the theological realm as a universal spirit
proves more compatible with most Eastern rather than Western religious traditions. Such
discrepancies might well be translated into views of “correctness,” an effect that might well prove
detrimental to inter-faith relationships.
Neurotheological research likewise provokes substantial considerations within the world of
genetics. If the evolutionary roots of religiosity advocated by Newberg and D’Aquili (2001) prove
to be correct, than the inference of a universal genetic component for transcendental faith would
be valid. Yet, despite a broad inter-population trend toward belief in a higher power, some
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individuals obviously prove more religious than others. The question then becomes, what
mechanisms dictate the penetrance and expressivity of “religious alleles,” should they exist?
David Wulff’s observation that rational, controlled, and non-fanciful individuals generally
suppress religious inclinations indicates that epistasis and inter-genic interactions likely play a role
(Underwood, 2001), although such conclusions represent partial explanations at best. After all,
genetic theory finds its most basic roots in the concept that specific environmental cues inevitably
mediate the genetic expression of a given allele; one’s demeanor could just as easily be the result
of environmental conditions as genetic predispositions. Thus, cultural influences contribute
significantly to mythic shaping. Current neurotheological research seeking to highlight potential
biological connections to a higher being obligates a corresponding effort to elucidate the cultural
contributions to religiosity. Yet, to the best of my knowledge, no such “sociotheological” research
exists. Comparative studies designed with the specific intent to isolate cultural correlates within
various religious traditions might help to balance out current biological strides. One might also
employ twin studies. An investigation of the “degree of religiosity” evidenced by monozygotic
siblings in cases in which one individual was raised in a theological environment not commonly
associated with his or her ethnic background might help to flesh out the faith-culture relationship.
In any case, a genetic component for belief in a higher power helps to explain the overwhelming
incidence of religious homogony within families, in terms of both preferred ideologies and the
degree of passion with which one pursues religious traditions (if the “religiosity alleles” are coinherited with those predisposing an individual to a certain disposition, then the capacity for faith
could prove just as consistent as the culturally-influenced choice of tradition among families).
Further, although identification of the cultural underpinnings to belief may not necessarily
alleviate inter-faith tensions, it might at least help to clarify the source of such animosity and
indicate why individuals prove so willing to fight for their beliefs.
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Perhaps the greatest implications of neurotheological research, however, lie in the potential
shifting of the scientific relationship with the religious community. Ashbrook, Albright, D’Aquili,
Newberg, and many others highlight the role of the mind as an intermediate between the physical
domain of the brain and spiritual realm of a higher being. Yet, this condition in no way speaks to
the directionality of the man-God relationship. As David Fontana (2003) indicates, “two sets of
competing theories as to this relationship, monism (the brain creates [the] mind) and dualism (the
mind works through [the] brain) have been argued over from the time of Descartes onwards” (p.
185). Newberg and D’Aquili’s (2001) SPECT imaging studies seem inevitably fated to fuel such
controversy. On the one hand, one might assume that a neurological foundation for faith might
support the theological assertions of those having mystic experiences. But, as Begley and
Underwood (2001) assert, one might find himself or herself equally tempted, on the basis of such
evidence, to draw quite the opposite conclusion by inferring that a biological correlate for belief
refutes the tenets of religion. Of course, such reasoning need not ensue, as a SPECT scan of one’s
“brain on apple pie” would depict a neurological basis for the experience without necessarily
refuting the existence of the pie itself (Begley & Underwood, 2001). Despite this contingency,
monistic trends nevertheless currently persist (Fontana, 2003). Within this context, religion might
indeed feel threatened, as the assertion that the brain gives rise to the mind bears the implication
that the latter cannot survive independently of the former (i.e. when the brain dies, the mind must
follow suit, and thus the argument for an afterlife deflates). Yet, no proof exists to unequivocally
substantiate the assertion that the neurologist’s ability to stimulate nerve cells into provoking a
mystical experience ensures that the resultant response mirrors that induced, say, by God. Even
D’Aquili and Newberg’s evolutionary foundations for biological belief do not exclude the ability
of a divine character to communicate with the individual via the mind, as creationist principles
render it possible that man evolved to perceive a God having existed all along. The best that future
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neurotheological research can hope to offer is a clearer understanding of the mind-brain
relationship. As Penfield states, “‘Whether there is such a thing as communication between man
and God,’ and whether the mind can be energized by an outside source after death ‘is for each
individual to decide for himself. Science has no such answers’” (Fontana, 2003, p. 84).
Conclusion
Neurotheology emerges as an incredibly dynamic discipline. As Ashbrook and Albright
(1997) help to elucidate, biological foundations may well help to corroborate one’s understanding
of God and the implicit religiosity that accompanies such faith. Their methodological approach,
though ultimately speculative, helps to create a comprehensive image of the neurological
connections to a specific ideology, namely that manifest by the Christian God. D’Aquili and
Newberg take this analysis one step further, putting forth an evolutionary path to a higher
authority that may well embody a common heritage for the world’s population. Yet, despite all the
promise science bears for future understanding, neurotheology in-and-of-itself will never provide
the “missing link” to God that some individuals may anticipate. Such a discipline was never
designed with isolationist intents and it is in the ability to augment philosophical, social, and
theological transcendent theories that neurotheology gains its greatest strength. A yearning for
knowledge and purpose both fundamentally characterize humanity; as long as the latter exists, one
will crave the former. While the power of faith in a divine spirit may never be overridden,
humanity’s belief in itself proves equally hard to ignore. Thus, with a proper respect for its
limitations, neurotheology may serve humanity well far into the future.
.
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References
Ashbrook, J. B., & Albright, C. R. (1997). The humanizing brain: Where religion and
neuroscience meet. Cleveland: The Pilgrim Press.
Begley, S., & Underwood, A. (2001). Religion and the brain. Newsweek, 137 (19), 50-58.
D’Aquili, E., & Newberg, A. B. (1999). The mystical mind: Probing the biology of religious
experience. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.
Fontana, D. (2003). Psychology, religion, and spirituality. Malden, MA: BPS Blackwell.
Newberg, A., D’Aquili, E., & Rause, V. (2001). Brain science and the biology of belief: Why God
won’t go away. New York: Ballantine Books.
Peters, K. E. (2001). Neurotheology and evolutionary theology: Reflections on The Mystical Mind.
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Rottschaefer, W. A. (1999). The image of God of neurotheology: Reflections of culturally based
religious commitments or evolutionarily based neuroscientific theories? Zygon, 34, 57-65.
Woodward, K. L. (2001). Faith is more than a feeling. Newsweek, 137 (19), 58.
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References
Ashbrook, J. B., & Albright, C. R. (1997). The humanizing brain: Where religion and
neuroscience meet. Cleveland: The Pilgrim Press.
Begley, S., & Underwood, A. (2001). Religion and the brain. Newsweek, 137 (19), 50-58.
D’Aquili, E., & Newberg, A. B. (1999). The mystical mind: Probing the biology of religious
experience. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.
Fontana, D. (2003). Psychology, religion, and spirituality. Malden, MA: BPS Blackwell.
Newberg, A., D’Aquili, E., & Rause, V. (2001). Brain science and the biology of belief: Why God
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