“Why was it virtually impossible not to believe in God in, say, 1500 in our Western society, while in 2000 many of us find this not only easy, but even inescapable?”

That question comes from Charles Taylor, a Canadian philosopher, who ranks as one of the most provocative thinkers alive today. Last year, he won the million dollar Templeton Prize, given each year to a person whose work brings together science and religion.

A brief answer to Taylor’s question might focus on the way medieval culture made religion pervasive in the daily lives of almost everybody. Angels and devils seemed thoroughly real then, full of meaning for everyday living.

So did the great figures of Judeo-Christian sacred history. As the art of Europe in this era boldly shows, the chief persons in this tradition were household names. And, of course, in the minds of virtually everyone, God was seen as present and active.

By contrast, much of our contemporary culture relegates religion to a distinct realm, cut off from daily life. For many, “O my God” has become a popular phrase in response to something wonderful or terrible, not a prayer to a real deity.

Taylor is not himself an unbeliever, but he understands why so many intellectuals in the modern world are. And he does not lack in respect for such people: he recognizes that you don’t need to be religious to live a highly moral life.

Some of my friends remain convinced of God’s nonexistence. They may respect religion for various values that it brings to human life, but they do not see a personal God as being the world’s creator and sustainer.

One friend, in particular, often speaks of his conviction that, when his life ends, oblivion will be his fate. This view clashes so fundamentally with mine as to provoke in me a kind of awe. It is hard for me to imagine earthly life without the prospect of further existence.

Despite the changes in world view cited by Taylor that admittedly make unbelief currently a whole lot easier, I have never been able to convince myself of death’s finality nor of the absence of God.

To me, human beings are just too precious and the world too wonderfully complex for me to imagine everything springing to life without God and coming to a complete and utter end.

For many others, however, human beings seem purpose enough in themselves. Without the need of God, we can achieve everything important for the improvement of human life.

Modern science also leads some people away from belief in God. For me, however, the discoveries of modern science stir wonder and raise deep questions about virtually everything.

Astronomy, especially, has made me revise my view of reality. Last week’s report of a supernova exploding 88 million light years away from earth was yet another reason for awe at the scope of the universe.

But events at the other end of the size spectrum merit wonder as well. To discover how many microorganisms inhabit our bodies─and indeed every part of the earth─moves me to admire the complexity of nature.

This world of infinite smallness has been evoked by one of my favorite writers, Bill Bryson, who disconcertingly notes that the mattresses on which we sleep are inhabited by upwards of two million microscopic mites.

His great predecessor, in these matters, more than 350 years ago, was the French scientist and philosopher Blaise Pascal.  He wrote about the two infinites, of greatness and smallness, in words that none have equaled.

Pascal, a believer, also understood doubt, and argued that, even for skeptics, God is a choice worth betting on.

To me, it comes as part of being human to search for God. That function, even duty, has marked the eight decades of my life. It continues to bring me peace of soul and strong bonds of community with other believers.

Religion, to my mind, offers a kind of poetry that enriches life. It broadens and deepens one’s worldview, giving it a scope it would not otherwise have. I also love being entitled to claim spiritual kinship with people all over the world.

And faith qualifies for me as a kind of adventure. In moments of doubt, I understand the force of Pascal’s famous wager. Maybe I should see religion as hedging my bets after all.

Yes, my world offers many inducements to unbelief. Cyclones, earthquakes, famine, war, and other disasters, both natural and produced by human beings, shake religious certainty.

But, again, it’s the scientific and rationalistic culture that remains the most pressing challenge to strong belief. The Big Bang, evolution, and other great doctrines of science can make God seem superfluous.

My response to them, however, is to admire even more the infinity classically attributed to God. By contrast with people who lived five centuries ago, I’m thankful to be living in a time when human knowledge has extended so far and offered challenges for theological belief.

Richard Griffin