Dr. Francis Collins has lived a life that defies easy categorization. He’s a geneticist who led the Human Genome Project, served as director of the National Institutes of Health under three U.S. presidents and publicly navigated the chaos of COVID-19. But perhaps most strikingly, he’s a devout Christian whose faith has only deepened through decades of scientific discovery.
In his new book, The Road to Wisdom, Collins unpacks the messy, beautiful intersection of faith and science. When we sat down with him, he reflected on how exploring the intricacies of the natural world has strengthened his belief in God rather than undermining it. “For me, science isn’t a threat to faith,” he says. “It’s a pathway to worship.”
Collins wasn’t always a believer. He grew up in an agnostic household and only began wrestling with faith in his late 20s while working as a medical student. “I was confronted with life and death every day,” he recalls. “I started asking questions science couldn’t answer. Why is there suffering? Is there a God? Why am I here?”
His search for meaning led him to read C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, which helped him see faith and reason as partners rather than enemies. “It opened my eyes to the idea that belief in God wasn’t just wishful thinking but a rational response to the evidence of morality and creation,” he says.
Far from diminishing his faith, Collins’ work in genetics and medical research has only amplified it. “When you discover something about creation that wasn’t known before, it’s a little glimpse of God’s mind,” he says. “It makes the moment even more thrilling.”
One of those moments came during the Human Genome Project. Mapping the entire human DNA sequence felt to Collins like reading “the language of God.” The elegance and complexity of the genetic code, he explains, points not to randomness but to intentionality. “It’s like uncovering a blueprint that was written long before we existed,” he says. “How can you not be in awe?”
Collins sees no contradiction in being both a scientist and a person of faith. In fact, he believes that studying the natural world is one of the most powerful ways to encounter the divine. “Science is about uncovering the truth,” he says. “And if God is real, then seeking truth will only bring you closer to Him.”
But faith hasn’t made Collins complacent. In fact, it’s driven him to pursue scientific breakthroughs with even greater urgency. His current research focuses on using gene editing to cure rare diseases, like progeria, a disorder that causes rapid aging in children. “I believe we’re called to heal,” he says. “Science is one of the ways we can do that.”
The work is grueling, often filled with setbacks and failures. Yet, Collins remains hopeful.
“Science is a slow, iterative process,” he explains. “But every small step forward feels like an answered prayer.” His team recently made a breakthrough in using CRISPR technology to correct the genetic mutation that causes progeria in mice. Now, they’re racing to translate that success into a human treatment.
Collins acknowledges that not everyone sees faith and science as compatible, especially in today’s polarized landscape. Conversations around topics like evolution, climate change and public health often fracture along ideological lines. But he believes bridging that divide starts with humility. “We all need to do a better job of listening,” he says. “Not to plan our snappy comeback but to truly understand each other.”
He recalls a conversation with a trucker from rural Minnesota who was skeptical of public health measures during COVID-19. “He was furious,” Collins says. “But when I listened to his concerns — about his business, his kids’ schooling, how recommendations felt out of touch with his reality — I realized he had valid points. And I had to admit where we, as scientists, could have communicated better.”
That openness to dialogue, Collins argues, is essential for progress. “Faith teaches us to love our neighbors,” he says. “And love means being willing to engage with people who see the world differently, even when it’s hard.”
Ultimately, Collins hopes his book inspires action. “Let’s not just shake our heads and walk away,” he urges. “Let’s get engaged. Let’s build relationships again instead of retreating into our silos.” He points to organizations like Braver Angels that facilitate conversations between people with opposing views as a model for what’s possible.
He ends our conversation with a plea to young people — the ones with the most at stake. “We have a lot of issues looming ahead of us,” he says. “Climate change, public health, misinformation. You are the future, and the future depends on us getting our act together again.”
For Collins, the pursuit of science is an act of worship. And he’s convinced that the more we learn about the world, the closer we come to understanding the divine. “Faith and science aren’t at odds,” he says. “They’re two ways of seeking truth. And truth, ultimately, leads to God.”
It’s a conviction forged not in spite of his research, but because of it. And if anyone makes you believe it’s possible to hold faith in one hand and a microscope in the other, it’s Francis Collins.
