“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”
Genesis 1:1
God is technology.
Hold on. Before you click away, give me a minute to explain.
I’m not here to convince you that God exists. I’m not trying to push anything on you. I just want to put something in front of you and let you sit with it. Because I think we’ve been taught to see two things as opposites that were never actually in conflict.
The Separation That Shouldn’t Exist
Think about the word technology. It comes from the Greek word “techne” — meaning skill, craft, the art of making. Biology. Anthropology. Neurology. Every branch of knowledge we’ve ever developed is just humanity trying to understand something that was already here before we showed up to study it.
We act like science discovered the universe. Really, it just started describing it.
Gray matter. Dark matter. DNA. Time. Quantum mechanics. The more we learn, the more we find out how much we don’t know. Scientists will tell you that openly. The deeper you go, the stranger and more ordered it gets. Not chaotic. Ordered. Like something designed it.
So here’s the question I keep coming back to: if God is all-knowing, if God understands things we haven’t even discovered language to describe yet — atoms, consciousness, the speed of light, the systems inside a single cell — wouldn’t that make God the greatest scientist who ever existed?
I think the separation between faith and science isn’t a discovery. It’s a choice. And it’s one a lot of people are starting to revisit.
A Story That Made Me Think About This Differently
I created a short video a while back built around a fictional family — a mother named Lisa and her son Marcus. I used them to explore this idea because sometimes a story can carry a truth that a lecture can’t.
Lisa was a single mother doing everything at once. College classes in the morning. School pickup. Night shifts at a diner. No safety net. Just faith and forward motion. Every night she and Marcus would pray together before bed. Not because everything was fine. Because everything wasn’t, and they needed something to hold onto.
Marcus grew up watching his mother refuse to quit. That did something to him. He graduated with honors. Then college. Then he found his way into tech, and eventually into cybersecurity. He started a business. But before any of that, he failed a major certification exam. The kind of failure that makes you question whether you were ever supposed to be here at all.
His mother told him something that I think is worth repeating: “This is just a bump in the road. You’ve overcome so much already. You can do this.”
He studied harder. Found a mentor. Took the exam again. Passed.
I used that story because I think it captures something real. Faith doesn’t remove the obstacles. It changes how you move through them.
What Cybersecurity Has to Do With Any of This
You might be wondering what any of this has to do with technology or cybersecurity specifically. Fair question.
Here’s my answer: the principles that make someone good at security are the same principles that show up in every serious faith tradition. Integrity. Vigilance. Truth. You can’t be a great security engineer and also be comfortable with deception. The job is literally to protect people from systems that want to exploit them. That requires a moral center.
I didn’t name this company TruthShield by accident. The word “truth” is doing real work in that name. It’s not a brand decision. It’s a conviction.
When I think about what cybersecurity is supposed to be at its best, I think about defending the vulnerable. Protecting people who don’t have the tools to protect themselves. Making sure systems that people trust actually deserve that trust. That’s not just a job description. That sounds a lot like a calling.
So Can They Coexist?
I think the real question isn’t whether God and science can coexist. I think the question is why we ever decided they couldn’t.
Some of the greatest scientific minds in history were people of deep faith. They didn’t see a contradiction. They saw discovery as a form of worship. Every answered question was proof that the universe had structure, and structure implies an architect.
I’m not asking you to believe what I believe. What I’m asking is that you don’t accept the assumption that faith makes you less rigorous or that science makes you less spiritual. Those two things have been used against each other for so long that we stopped asking who benefits from keeping them apart.
I know what guides my work. I know what kept me going through the seasons where none of this made sense. And I know that the field I’ve chosen — protecting people in a digital world — feels less like a career path and more like an assignment.
Maybe that’s what calling means. Not that it’s easy. Not that it pays well right away. Not that the door opens the first time you knock. Just that when you ask yourself why you’re still doing this, the answer keeps coming back to something bigger than you.
I’ll leave you with the question I started with, reframed:
If God created everything we are still working to understand, what does that make God?
Think about it. Let me know in the comments what you come up with.
— Nigel
“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”
Psalm 19:1
