The Western dominance of the science and faith debate comes as no surprise. In most texts on this subject, a Western cultural context is presupposed, so much so that often no mention of context is made. The use of “Western science” can, therefore, sound pleonastic. The strong monocultural tendency goes against recent scientific developments, especially when science is understood as including all academic disciplines as we do. In the first place, it is not in line with developments in the philosophy of science since the sixties. The emphasis on the role of major theoretical paradigms in science, and their related worldviews, by authors like Thomas Kuhn and Imre Lakatos underlines the importance of the cultural context (including politics, society, religion, and so on) of academic activities (Barbour , 130–61; , 261; Van den Brink , 46–67). The strong influence of postcolonial approaches, especially in the social sciences, not only points to the importance of the cultural context, but particularly to the need to tackle Northern or Western dominance because of its oppressive and obscuring effects. Furthermore, the monocultural tendency does not fit with recent historical inquiry. David Livingstone's geography of science, for example, shows that science is not a “perspective from no‐where” (, 184). On the contrary, the cultural contexts in which scientific studies are conducted and presented influence both research and the reception of theories. Finally, although other academic disciplines could also be mentioned here, a monocultural approach is theologically problematic. Seen from Paul's perspective that only “together with all the Lord's holy people” (Ephesians 3:18 NIV) can the love of Christ be known, a Western‐dominated perspective is extremely limiting and weakens the catholicity of the church worldwide (Schreiter ). Studying perspectives on science and faith from other cultural contexts is therefore not merely an interesting pastime but a vital undertaking in order to keep in step with key scientific developments. Nevertheless, it is not the goal of developing Western scholarship that makes perspectives from other cultures indispensable, but the intrinsic value of the perspectives and the related intercultural conversations.

We do not want to suggest that we are the first to mention this. Apart from the attention paid to the relation between science and religions other than Christianity, which also normally involve a more contextual approach, there has recently been a more specific interest in the developments of the debate around the globe. The June 2015 issue of Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science offers a nice example of this fresh interest in the global “state of the art,” presented as “Religion and Science around the World.” The German, Chinese, Latin American, and South African approaches show, however, that the different authors’ understandings of the importance of the cultural context are diverse. It is probably not accidental that Ernst Conradie and Cornel du Toit's () article about the South African situation places considerably more emphasis on the local culture and how it differs from the Western context than the other contributions, for example, in the appreciation of knowledge. Although the other authors focus on different themes, this does not imply that the cultural differences in comparison with the North Atlantic context are far less important in Latin America or China, or that the proper German (theological) understanding of this context does not have its own specific characteristics. George Zhou () underlines the importance of all the cultural backgrounds of the students in science education, taking his own experiences from a Chinese background as an example. We follow a similar line of thought in this article. In order to come to a better understanding of the importance of the cultural backgrounds of the different perspectives on science and religion, we studied the discourse on science and faith of a group of Christian students from Abidjan, Ivory Coast. In this article, we explain the process of reconstructing and analyzing a discourse, and explore what this discourse can contribute to the Western debate on science and Christian faith. We engage in this debate from a systematic theological perspective and therefore we start our reflections with the importance of such discourses for doing theology. In the second section, we provide some necessary information about and justification of the methods we used for this reconstruction, especially group model building (GMB). Subsequently, the reconstructed discourse of the students in Abidjan is presented and analyzed. In the fourth section, we connect the reconstructed discourse to the North Atlantic debate in order to facilitate an intercultural conversation and conclude with an outlook concerning further research.

FROM ORAL DISCOURSE TO SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY

One of the major problems caused by the Western dominance of the debate is that texts discussing science and faith in which other cultural outlooks are elaborated are scarce. Although Ignacio Silva (, 499–500), for example, provides a nice overview of the developments of the debate in Latin America, he admits that it is too early to speak of solid, thoroughly Latin American written contributions to the global debate. This does not deny the existence of lively and interesting local debates on science and religion in different world regions. Because of our experiences participating in debates about science and faith in Africa and Latin America, we chose to start with these debates among professors and students. Since we wanted to connect to these “oral traditions,” we had to engage in the reconstruction of the discourses on science and faith of specific groups in a certain world region. Conradie and du Toit's specific emphasis on cultural context undergirds our impression that in the different African cultures the differences in comparison with North Atlantic perspectives, especially when it comes to science, are probably more pronounced than in other cultural settings. This potential contrast gives an African case study a certain attractiveness. We chose French‐speaking Africa as the region for this research because the Christian traditions in this region are less well‐known in the English‐speaking world and the peoples here have less access to the international literature on science and faith. Also the diversity of traditional cultures and the colonial and postcolonial impact of French culture increase the probability of discovering alternative stances on science and faith. In particular, the concept of laïcité, which refers to a strict separation of state and religion, has had a long history in the field of education, not only in France but in its colonies as well (Holder and Sow ). In order to conduct this research, we selected three major university cities in the French‐speaking part of Africa, in different countries with different colonial backgrounds: Abidjan (Ivory Coast, a former French colony), Yaoundé (Cameroon, first colonized by Germany and afterwards partly French partly British until independence), and Kinshasa (Democratic Republic of Congo, a former Belgian colony).

Discourse analysis is defined by Stephanie Taylor () as a “close study of language in use.” The concept of “discourse” includes the assumption that language is structured and that its meaning closely relates to the context in which this structure is used (Philips and Jorgensen , 12). One of the classic questions, provoked especially by the impact of Michel Foucault's theory of discourse, is about the hegemonic character of the discourse and the role of agency of the individual (or group) who uses it. Carol Bacchi (), discussing the use of “discourse” in feminist political sciences, defends those theories that “preserve room for subjects to move within the constraints imposed by the hegemonic discourses.” The political dimension and its related questions cannot be ignored in our research, especially because of its postcolonial context. This was underlined by the period of student strikes and unrest at the universities in Abidjan just before the research sessions took place. Despite the state universities’ self‐qualification as laïque (secular), the hegemonic discourse on science and religion in the francophone African context is not to be identified with dominant Western perspectives or even more specifically with the typical French concept of laïcité. During the research sessions it appeared that the traditional understandings of the relation between science and religion, which are mainly anti‐Western, are influential. The different denominations and churches the participants belong to appeared to have a considerable impact as well. Because these discourses represent different powers, it is important to presuppose “room to move” for individuals and groups in order to understand how they negotiate their own position.

“Discourse” is a general term that can be applied to all kinds of language. In our research it refers specifically to oral language used during debate sessions. The debate is not meant to be merely theoretical but to be built on the experiences of the participants. Given this aim, in our preliminary survey we used the concepts of “field of study” (“domaine d’étude”) for the students and “academic work” (“travaux académiques”) for the academics instead of “science.” The discourse, therefore, concerns concrete scientific activities. This discourse is perceived as a theological voice, drawing on theological action research developed by Helen Cameron and others (). They underline that their approach is “theological all the way through” and oppose a typical modernist approach that separates world and church, secular and sacred, theory and practice, as well as practical and systematic theology. Within theology, the science and faith debate is normally related to systematic theology. In our research we want to make a systematic theological contribution but we start with the practices and the convictions of those who are scientifically engaged. Cameron et al. (, 49–60) helpfully distinguish four voices of theology. The first voice is “operant theology.” Clare Watkins (, 35) argues that practices themselves are “embodiments of faith seeking understanding,” Cameron et al. argue, and are therefore not to be perceived as mere data but as a proper form of theology. Espoused theology, the second voice, accompanies the operant theology, often in spoken but also in written form. It is defined as “the theology embedded within a group's articulation of its beliefs” (Cameron et al., , 54). The discourse in our research is an example of this theological voice. These two voices of theology are connected with “the normative voices of Christian theology” and formal theology, that is, academic theology. Theology is thus defined as the ongoing conversation between these different voices (Watkins , 37). In our research, GMB and focus groups’ debates are the main tools used to collect and analyze the espoused theology of Christian academics and master's students from three major university cities from francophone Africa. Cameron, Watkins, and their colleagues underline that the four voices do not exist in their “pure” form. The espoused theology we study, for example, also contains aspects of normative theology. Because the majority of the participants are from a Protestant and Pentecostal background, Scripture is the most referenced normative source. At the end of the article, we bring the espoused theology into conversation with the formal voice of Western theology to encourage further conversation.

GMB AND THE RESEARCH TRACK

We understand the discourse we reconstruct as a theological voice that should be related to a broader theological conversation. However, the reconstruction and analysis of the debates cannot be realized without the participants themselves. We therefore need a participatory research method (Bom in press). Additionally, because we understand the discourse specifically as the result of a debate between participants, this method should focus on the dynamics of the discourse of a group rather than of individuals. The group character of the research is especially helpful in African contexts, where theology is often developed in communal conversation (Munikwa and Hendriks ). Because we want the research to be participatory, instruments like surveys or interviews do not sufficiently guarantee the necessary participation in the analysis and the African ownership of the reconstruction. Finally, as we aim to make a contribution to the science and faith debate in systematic theology, the research method should be helpful for such an approach. GMB best fulfills these needs. GMB stems from the large family of system dynamics–related research tools in the natural and social sciences and is recognized as an instrument for discourse analysis (Luna‐Reyes et al. ). It is a tool used to understand and help decision making in groups and often applied in management sciences (Richardson, Anderson, and Luna‐Reyes ; Rouwette, Bleijenbergh, and Vennix ). Bleijenbergh, Korzilius, and Verschuren () count GMB among what they call “participative research methods.” The GMB version we use provides so‐called expert‐based research. In a series of group sessions, experts or shareholders describe their situation in the form of a qualitative model assisted by a facilitator and a modeler. Below we will present and explain such a model. The model is a visualization of the confrontation of the ideas of the participants. Bleijenbergh et al. underline GMB's holistic approach, which prevents the participants from concentrating on a limited number of themes. The model construction has two fundamental elements: the variables and the connecting arrows between these variables. In our research, we understand the variables as key concepts related to the practices of scientific engagement and the involvement of faith. Every session starts with the collection of these variables. We used a survey to collect these variables, as explained below, but we also did this at the beginning of every session, so that everyone was included and heard at the start of the meeting. During the process, the participants can add new variables as well. These variables are graphically connected to each other with the help of arrows. GMB permits only two types of relation (arrow)—positive (see + sign at the side of the arrow in the model) or negative (see − sign at the side of the arrow). The positive arrow indicates that the variables on both ends diminish or increase in the same direction; the negative arrow indicates that the development of both variables moves in an opposite direction.

With help of the local partners, we organized two GMB sessions in each city (May–June 2015). We decided to separate master's students and academics in order to avoid influence along hierarchical lines. A few months later (October–November 2015), we conducted focus group sessions in the same cities in which the models were confirmed and analyzed. Unfortunately, the participants in the GMB sessions were not identical to those in the focus groups; 67% of the participants in the student focus group sessions in Abidjan had participated in the GMB session a few months before.

With help of two GMB specialists from Radboud University Nijmegen, we designed a research track. This track started with a small online survey of the participants before the GMB sessions (beginning of May 2015), followed by the GMB sessions in a specific city and a selected group. The goal of the preliminary survey was to help the participants focus on the theme, to acquire some relevant information about their backgrounds, and to collect some basic notions concerning the debate on science and faith from the perspectives of the participants. In order to prepare the participants, we mainly asked for their reaction to several theses concerning the relation between science and faith (five options), like “My faith is a hindrance to my study” (in the case of the master's students) and “University is a place where Christian faith can prosper” (both groups). One of the final questions asks for some main keywords that capture what they argued before about the relation between science and faith. We used these concepts gathered in the survey to make an example of a small model, a so‐called “concept model.” The presentation of a “concept model” at the start of a GMB session enables the explanation of how model building functions with help of crucial concepts selected by participants themselves (Richardson ). The “concept model” is very simple and the participants usually change it significantly during the GMB session. As explained above, it mainly has an instrumental significance (i.e., to explain how GMB works), although the changes made during the sessions can be very revealing, as they were in this particular case.

In Abidjan, the three‐hour GMB session took place in a well equipped and nicely situated room, close to the university district Cocody. The GMB session included female and male master's students from both different disciplines and different denominational backgrounds (see the Appendix). The selection of the participants was made with help from the local partner, Groupes Bibliques Universitaires (GBU)–Côte d'Ivoire, deliberately including participants from other Christian student organizations. Within two weeks after the session, the participants received a summary of the debate session and were invited to send their comments to the researcher. The models constructed during the sessions are the starting point of the next phase of the research: the consolidation of the model and a contextual analysis in focus groups. The focus groups sessions fit the conversational approach of Cameron and Watkins, GMB, and the theological research of practices (de Roest ). In the case of Abidjan, the two focus group sessions each took nearly two hours. After revisiting the model, which was persistently confirmed by the participants, we discussed a practical case and spoke about the influence of the churches and the traditional cultures on the group's perceptions of the relation between science and faith. Although the facilitator introduced the case and the two themes, he did not participate in the debate. All GMB and focus group sessions were filmed and audiotaped and afterwards transcribed and analyzed with help of Atlas‐ti.

MODELS AND PERSPECTIVES ON SCIENCE AND FAITH FROM STUDENTS FROM ABIDJAN

After a short explanation of the research and how a GMB session functions, we started the discussion with the concept model. Based on the survey outcomes, we had made the concept model for the session, as shown in Figure .

Concept Model for the Students from Abidjan

The students in Abidjan finally agreed on the model presented. On the right‐hand side is a list of collected variables that in the end were not taken into the model. This model was confirmed and further analyzed in the two focus group sessions (see Figure ).

Model Built by the Students from Abidjan

STARTING A CONVERSATION WITH FORMAL THEOLOGY

One of the advantages of the more recent contextual approach in the science and religion debate is that it allows for intercultural comparison and the possibility of an outside perspective on the distinctive features of the Western contribution. As we argue below, various Western authors identify “scientism” as one of the most influential features of this context. In search of an opening for a conversation between espoused and formal theology, we relate the main characteristics of the student discourse from Abidjan to the conversation about scientism.

In the recent North Atlantic debate, Taede Smedes (, ) uses the term “scientism” to describe the appreciation of science in the European and North American contexts. Mikael Stenmark () distinguishes and evaluates a variety of conceptions of scientism as different understandings of science, but Smedes perceives scientism as more specifically from a cultural angle. He understands scientism “as a cultural mode of thinking,” the “tacit assumption of present‐day Western culture,” and defines it as “a tacit faith or trust in science, an incorporation and internalization of scientific modes of thinking in our everyday‐life mode of thinking” (Smedes , 242). In order to identify scientism in the science and religion debate, he points to what Michael Potter calls “theological naturalism,” which “seeks to describe divine action in the same terms that in other parts of life are used to describe natural phenomena” (Smedes , 245). When Smedes claims that Ian Barbour, one of the founding fathers of the science and religion debate, is influenced by scientism, he uses a more specific definition: “There is an assumption here that rational elements are found in religion and it is with regard to those elements that religion shares in the rationality of science. In other words, science is tacitly assumed to be the standard of rationality” (Smedes , 253). In his response, Barbour explained that his definition of scientism does not refer to a cultural dimension but includes “(1) the epistemological claim that science is the only path to knowledge and (2) the ontological claim that matter is the fundamental reality in the universe (materialism)” (Barbour , 260; see also Stenmark , 3–17). Restricting the definition does not imply that Barbour wants to minimalize the importance of scientism. In Barbour's view, Smedes perceives the complete independence or separation of (the languages of) science and religion as the best defense against scientism. According to Barbour this compartmentalization does not really protect theology against the threat of scientism (Barbour , 262–66). Theology itself is part of culture and, based on Smedes’ cultural understanding of scientism, it would be nearly impossible to avoid its influence on Western theology. Barbour therefore defends the dialogue between science and religion and certainly does not exclude a form of integration between the two, as, for example, in process theology.

There are certain elements of the student discourse from Abidjan that indicate a strong contrast to scientism, both in Barbour's more limited sense and in Smedes’s broader cultural understanding. The model shows not just one path to real knowledge but two, coming forth from “love” and “truth.” Additionally, during the sessions the students prioritized the knowledge of faith as a basic knowledge that is sustained by scientific knowledge. This opposes both Barbour's understanding of scientism and scientism as an (often subconscious) cultural assumption. In particular, the traditional cultural context limits the influence of science, according to the participants. Nevertheless, the separation of science and faith appears to be an attractive option for traditional culture as well as for the churches. It seems that both parties fear the critical influence of science that undermines their authority or even identity because of its colonial or Western origins. Scientific questioning and demand for demonstration or proof contradict and destroy the social context on which traditional knowledge relies. Emmanuel and Nadège reflect this attitude in their tendency to distinguish two separate domains for the two types of knowledge. Although this seems to create an overlap with Smedes’s separation of science and faith, their solution can neither be identified with his position nor with its specific institutionalized version that is represented by the French notion of laïcité. Hence, these students maintain one truth and recognize “the knowledge of faith” as basic and complementary to “the knowledge of the field of study.” They distinguish the two types of knowledge but do not separate them. There was only one clear expression of a more elaborate perspective on two different domains or spheres. When Emmanuel spoke about the knowledge of faith that appeared to be helpful in the domain of philosophy, his position could be compared to that of consonance, a particular form of dialogue that presupposes the idea of independent domains of science and faith (Barbour , 91–92; van den Brink ).

The priority of love and faith in the model so passionately defended by Adama and Princesse is reminiscent of Anselm's famous expression, fides quaerens intellectum (McCord Adams ). The centrality of truth instead of knowledge also indicates a distance from Western modernity and its strong emphasis on the (Cartesian) ego and his/her knowledge (cf. Marion ; Charles Taylor ). This distance from Western modernity, however, makes an interesting connection with late modern approaches that criticize the modern project. In the model built by the students from Abidjan, truth is the unique source of knowledge. This perspective therefore challenges all approaches that are prepared to divide the truth into different departments or languages (Barbour , 261). The students’ interpretation of the model indicates that truth is closely connected to God and therefore to divine revelation. In line with this, both faith and science can be understood as instruments to receive this revelation and, consequently, it is not strange that the students perceive both types of knowledge as complementary. This understanding could easily lead to the integration of both types of knowledge, one of the four models Barbour introduces to distinguish the main positions in the science and religion debate. In particular, what Barbour calls a “natural theology” approach (, 98–99; , 267) seems the most appropriate way of categorizing the students’ rudimentary model.

OUTLOOK

The reconstructed student discourse from Abidjan has some intriguing characteristics. The dominance of the perspective of faith reflects not only a specific stance in the debate but also a specific cultural context, which is different from Europe or the United States. This raises the question about the relation between stance or position in the debate and context. As Barbour argues, cultural relativism is not very helpful here (Barbour , 264–65), but more needs to be said on this, especially to avoid a gap between social and natural scientific understandings. Theology seems well placed to propose some more precise alternatives in view of its multicultural and intercultural dimension and the catholic claims of the Christian faith (Schreiter ). Although just one case study as presented in this article does not provide sufficient base for the formulation of a possible “French‐speaking African approach” to the debate on science and faith, it is worthwhile considering some questions that it provokes, especially in its contrast to Western scientism. It is clear that, in a context of cultural scientism, scientific knowledge dominates religious knowledge. That is why Barbour argues that faith and theology are influenced by what Smedes calls “cultural scientism” as well. Is Smedes’s solution, the strict separation of scientific and religious language, not a product of this cultural scientism itself? The model of the students from Abidjan questions the separation of science and faith in its different forms. They perceive scientific knowledge and the knowledge of faith as products of one truth. This raises another question. Does cultural scientism's focus on science as an absolute, or at least a strongly prioritized, form of knowledge not only diminish but also absorb some characteristics of the knowledge of faith? If this is the case, what does this mean for the understanding of science in Western societies? Conversely, if the Western perspective on science cannot easily avoid cultural scientism, what does this mean for its understanding and evaluations of scientific contributions from other cultural contexts like Abidjan? The intersubjective character of the scientific community, which is now spread across different cultural contexts, cannot avoid an intercultural dialogue in which faith and religion will play an important role.

The study of Christian perspectives from different world regions, therefore, makes an important contribution to this theological task. However, the dominance of “the knowledge of faith” in the students’ model must not hide the need for a more independent domain for scientific endeavor. According to some of the participants, the strong position of faith does not leave enough space for scientific development. This desire for more independence may well be related to the Western character of science. Despite the complex cultural context, however, Western approaches and specifically the influence of scientism are not dominant at all in the students’ discourse. This seems to suggest that there is a kind of African Christian “resilience” that is able to produce an alternative perspective. Other research, including our reconstructions of other discourses from this region, must clarify whether this alternative perspective is common among Christians from this world region who are involved in science, and, if so, what its (or their) main characteristics are.